Strawberry Banana and Cherry Vanilla
Title: Majestic
Prompt: Strawberry Banana 10: Dress Up, Cherry Vanilla 9: My Reflection
Topping: Rainbow Sprinkles (though Alexei shows up very briefly at the end)
Word Count: 1,696
Rating: G
Summary: Cora has made a new dress for herself!
Well, this was different, she thought, standing up from the bed and standing in front of the full length mirror in her room, staring at the figure back at her. She was in a new mood today; she felt like making a new outfit for herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her red dress or her white one-on the contrary, she thought they looked absolutely beautiful-but at the same time she felt that it was time for something new. Which was why for the last month or so, she had been making a new dress, one of purple color, both light and dark. Almost like her red dress, except the red was royal purple, almost like that of Roman clothing, and the gold was now a soft lavender color.
She’d never worn purple before, she thought to herself as she reached up and placed the matching hat upon her head. It was a soft beret; she hadn’t made it, she’s simply bought it from a thrift store. It had been sitting there on the shelf, almost begging her to take it, telling her silently that it would go well if she were to make a new dress. And actually, it had worked out-the fabric she had recently bought was of the same color as the beret.
Now she stared at herself, occasionally pulling at the skirt portion of the dress, though she kept her eyes on the bodice, occasionally looking up at the beret. What was it? What did she love about making her own dresses? About making dresses that seemed so obsolete, so medieval? She didn’t know anyone else who wore them. But then again, she didn’t know anyone else who sat upon a cross every day. Sure, some people sat upon tree branches, but tree branches were completely different from a cross that was seemingly randomly placed in the middle of a park, of a peaceful park. She still couldn’t fully grasp its meaning, its purpose, but it was there for her, and that was all that mattered for her. But her mind was digressing now; she should have been focusing on the matter at hand: seeing how well the dress fit.
Of course it had taken her a while to make dresses-lots of time and lots of practice-but eventually she had gotten the hang of it, and her father had let her be. He was very docile about it, which made sense, since her father wasn’t one to be truly concerned about clothes. All the same, she was happy that he left her alone, that she could be by herself, sewing and putting things together and just thinking about things. It wasn’t the privacy she craved. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her father. She appreciated him and loved him like a daughter should love her father. It was simply that she loved being by herself. She was almost like a recluse at times, sequestering herself from the rest of the world and simply enjoying her own company. But that time didn’t go to waste. That was the time she used to think about things, deep, philosophical things. Things that probably went all the way back to the time of the Greeks, of Socrates and Plato and Aristotle. Things like…
Why was she here?
What was her purpose in life?
What was her destiny?
Was she meant for someone else, or was she meant to be alone?
Why was she gifted with the talent of making clothes?
Why was she gifted with the ability to think about these things?
She sighed softly, giving a little turn and pushing a soft blonde curl out of the way so that it rippled down her back. It looked good on her, she thought, staring at her face now. And it fit her nicely, too. She wondered what the other children who admired her from afar would think. Would they like it? Would they call out their praise to her like they often did whenever she sat there in her red dress and looked out at the river in front of her? She gave a small smile. The dress was done. All she had to do now was put it on, wear it outside. She wouldn’t know how it looked otherwise.
All she had to do was wait to see and hear what little Alexei thought. He always had something to say about her dresses. She could almost hear him now, chirruping a hello and some praise, something along the lines of, “Wow! The purple… I mean, I’m not a big fan of purple, but it looks really nice on you!” She could see him grasp the base of the cross, getting ready to climb up and sit with her, continuing with what he was saying. “It makes your eyes look really nice… nicer than they already look!” she could hear him sing out, and she could see him brush the hem of the dress with his fingertips. His cold fingertips.
She shook her head quickly, slipping into a pair of stockings and a soft pair of shoes, and went out the door. Of course people did stare as she walked down the street, but that was simply rude of them. What could she do about it? People were just naturally rude at times, and she couldn’t help that. She shrugged, making her way to the Esplanade, to the cross. Slowly, she climbed up, making sure no one was watching (she felt awkward climbing up in a dress, and she felt that she would never get over that), and then set herself upon it, just as she always did. Now she could see life in purple, looking just as majestic as the Romans and all the people of the ancient and medieval world. At least, that was how she imagined it. She knew that not everyone was majestic, that most people of the time were working, but she had an almost romantic view of it. Something about it called to her.
“Cora?”
And someone else was calling to her as well. She knew very well who, and she smiled as she looked down. “Hello there. Why don’t you come up and sit with me?” It was probably the most she had ever spoken at one time, and it probably surprised him, but it didn’t matter to her. Today, she was a new person. She could be anyone she wanted today, and today, she was a young woman in purple, ready to spend her afternoon with the one friend she had.
Alexei smiled brightly, climbing up quickly and sitting next to her on the cross, balancing things out. “Is that a new dress?” he chirped excitedly, reaching over and tracing his fingertips along one of the sleeves. She blushed a bit, as was in her nature, and only nodded. “You made it yourself, I bet.” He grinned. “You’ve got such a great talent, Cora. I wish I could make my own clothes. I bet it would be a lot cheaper, wouldn’t it?”
She was silent for a moment. “In terms of explicit costs, you’re probably right.” She turned her face away a bit, so that she was only showing him her cheek and her hair, and kept her eyes on the river in front of her. “It takes a lot of time and effort… and a lot of fabric, too… before you actually get it right.”
“Did you look at yourself in the mirror today?” He let out a breath. “You look so pretty!” It was blatant, yes, and he probably wasn’t this open with other people. She remembered that he’d once told her that he was always so shy around everyone else, even around Syeira and Sergei, the two people with whom he lived. He’d also said that somehow, he was comfortable around her, that he could act like a child around her and it wouldn’t really matter. There was something about the way she conducted herself, he’d said, that made him want to act like a child. He’d stopped for a moment, then quickly added that he didn’t mean to say that she acted like a mother. But there was something about her that made him feel so carefree, that made him want to smile all the time.
She only nodded in response. “Thank you…” She paused. “Alexei?”
“Yeah?” He was lightly bouncing up and down, as if listening to an upbeat song in his head. He turned to look at her-she could see him out of the corner of her eye-and added, “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong, nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking… you told me once that you sometimes feel shy around Syeira, but somehow you feel carefree around me… I’m afraid I… well… I don’t understand that fully. You said you’ve known her for a long time, and that she sees you as a cousin, but you don’t feel carefree around her?”
He looked down. “I feel like a need to be a role model for her. So I think I need to conduct myself in a way that makes her think, That’s how I need to be. I don’t know how to really explain it. That’s the best I can do.” He smiled softly. “Does that make sense? I mean, I know she should be carefree, but Sergei… he’s such a good older brother to her, and that’s how he acts sometimes. There’s something about him that I admire and want to pass down to her. I’m not saying I want to be a go-between, but… but…” He sighed in confusion. “Like I said, I don’t know how to explain it.”
She smiled, scooting over a bit and letting the hem of her dress brush against the hem of his trousers. “Come here,” she said softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and letting his head rest on her own shoulder. “I know what you’re trying to say, and it’s okay. You can be carefree around me.” She patted his arm a bit. “You can be as carefree as you want to be.”
“Thanks.” She could swear that he was grinning.