In the Nursery; PG; Azkadellia; Cain
Title: In the Nursery
Author: srichard
Characters/Pairing: Azkadellia, Cain
Rating: PG
Summary: Azkadellia's first night of freedom
Warning: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: 890
Cain couldn't have said why he went looking for her, only that he needed to see her, needed to know that what DG, exhausted and blissful, had said, was the truth. He was a man who believed the evidence of his own eyes, though, and if she was faking...well, he would know. He wasn't a loving sister or parent who hoped against hope. He had seen what the Sorceress was capable of.
The guards in disarray, there was no one to ask, and so he went, room by room, through the private quarters of the palace, managing to disturb, in turn, Glitch, Raw, DG, the Queen and Ahamo. But finally, he found it. A little set of rooms in the royal quarters: the nursery.
She didn't answer to his knock, but he opened the door anyway, to be sure, and there she was, huddled in the window seat, silhouetted against the darkness. In the light from the doorway, he could see the tears glistening on her cheeks as she looked up.
"Who are you?" she said, in a soft voice.
"Wyatt Cain."
Azkadellia swallowed, wiped at her cheeks. "One of DG's companions. Forgive my discomposure." Her words sounded like playacting, but not the kind he'd feared to find. Like a little girl playing at her mother. "Is there a problem with your room?"
He shook his head, came closer. "What are you doing in here?"
"M-mother and Father are in m-where I used to sleep. This was where...before..." She waved her hand, slightly.
He glanced around, taking in the little dolls, the storybooks on the bookshelves, the dollhouse in the corner, the two narrow beds. Two little princesses...
But none of that was anything to his purpose. "The Longcoats," he said evenly, "locked me in a tin suit for seven annuals watching my family be tortured on a holo-repeat. I was one of the Mystic Man's Tin Men."
He saw her reel slightly, as though information was pouring back into her head. She pressed her palms to her temples. "Yes," she whispered. Then she looked up at him, but not, as he had expected, with fear. Instead, she had that same steady childlike gaze that DG had perfected.
And at that, he found himself stymied. This was no Sorceress, and yet he couldn't walk away from her, either. He should, but he couldn't. Slowly, he moved forward and sat down in an armchair.
"That was where Daddy sat," she whispered. "When he read us stories." She turned her face away from him. "I'm sorry. I am not myself tonight."
"Well I should hope not," he said wryly. Though, perhaps that was wrong. Perhaps she was herself tonight, was just learning to be that self once again, and he had the sense again that he was faced with a very young girl instead of a handsome young woman.
"Yes, I suppose so," she said, with a little, sobbing laugh. "Can you...tell me something?"
"If I can."
"What I did to Ambrose...that's real, isn't it? Not a nightmare." She was trembling very slightly.
"Real as the zipper in his skull."
She drew in a deep, shaking breath and turned away to look out the window.
He could read the thought on her transparent face. "Don't you dare think of it. This is their happy ending-you don't get to ruin it."
"Is that why you don't kill me?" she asked, still not looking at him.
"Partly. But the way I hear tell, you weren't responsible. Is that right?" She couldn't lie to him, not now.
"I don't know," she said, in a soft voice, and then she curled herself up more tightly, hiding her face in her knees. "I don't know..."
"What did she do to you?" he said, in a low voice, for no man could remain unmoved by such anguish.
"Little girl in a cage," she whispered, as if quoting someone. "She let me see things, sometimes...only the things that hurt. She showed how Mother didn't love me anymore...and then I knew no one would help, no one would save me..."
He was about to argue with her, then realized that he didn't know what to say. Maybe after fifteen annuals of looking at the Sorceress, the Queen had learned not to love her daughter. Hell, what did he know? But as a father, he knew that if something had taken Jeb, he would have moved heaven and earth to save his boy, and he could only wonder why one sister had been so precious, the other left to darkness. "You're safe now," was all he said, for sometimes platitudes were best.
"Yes. DG saved me."
He didn't know the full rights of it, but he shook his head. "You saved yourself. She couldn't have saved you if you hadn't wanted to be saved, Princess. Remember that. Hold on to that."
She smiled at him, just faintly. "Thank you..."
And he hoped she would remember it, hoped it would be enough, in the days to come, as the memories came back, as she faced all the Sorceress's doings. But for now, if it got her through the night, then that was something.
Author: srichard
Characters/Pairing: Azkadellia, Cain
Rating: PG
Summary: Azkadellia's first night of freedom
Warning: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: 890
Cain couldn't have said why he went looking for her, only that he needed to see her, needed to know that what DG, exhausted and blissful, had said, was the truth. He was a man who believed the evidence of his own eyes, though, and if she was faking...well, he would know. He wasn't a loving sister or parent who hoped against hope. He had seen what the Sorceress was capable of.
The guards in disarray, there was no one to ask, and so he went, room by room, through the private quarters of the palace, managing to disturb, in turn, Glitch, Raw, DG, the Queen and Ahamo. But finally, he found it. A little set of rooms in the royal quarters: the nursery.
She didn't answer to his knock, but he opened the door anyway, to be sure, and there she was, huddled in the window seat, silhouetted against the darkness. In the light from the doorway, he could see the tears glistening on her cheeks as she looked up.
"Who are you?" she said, in a soft voice.
"Wyatt Cain."
Azkadellia swallowed, wiped at her cheeks. "One of DG's companions. Forgive my discomposure." Her words sounded like playacting, but not the kind he'd feared to find. Like a little girl playing at her mother. "Is there a problem with your room?"
He shook his head, came closer. "What are you doing in here?"
"M-mother and Father are in m-where I used to sleep. This was where...before..." She waved her hand, slightly.
He glanced around, taking in the little dolls, the storybooks on the bookshelves, the dollhouse in the corner, the two narrow beds. Two little princesses...
But none of that was anything to his purpose. "The Longcoats," he said evenly, "locked me in a tin suit for seven annuals watching my family be tortured on a holo-repeat. I was one of the Mystic Man's Tin Men."
He saw her reel slightly, as though information was pouring back into her head. She pressed her palms to her temples. "Yes," she whispered. Then she looked up at him, but not, as he had expected, with fear. Instead, she had that same steady childlike gaze that DG had perfected.
And at that, he found himself stymied. This was no Sorceress, and yet he couldn't walk away from her, either. He should, but he couldn't. Slowly, he moved forward and sat down in an armchair.
"That was where Daddy sat," she whispered. "When he read us stories." She turned her face away from him. "I'm sorry. I am not myself tonight."
"Well I should hope not," he said wryly. Though, perhaps that was wrong. Perhaps she was herself tonight, was just learning to be that self once again, and he had the sense again that he was faced with a very young girl instead of a handsome young woman.
"Yes, I suppose so," she said, with a little, sobbing laugh. "Can you...tell me something?"
"If I can."
"What I did to Ambrose...that's real, isn't it? Not a nightmare." She was trembling very slightly.
"Real as the zipper in his skull."
She drew in a deep, shaking breath and turned away to look out the window.
He could read the thought on her transparent face. "Don't you dare think of it. This is their happy ending-you don't get to ruin it."
"Is that why you don't kill me?" she asked, still not looking at him.
"Partly. But the way I hear tell, you weren't responsible. Is that right?" She couldn't lie to him, not now.
"I don't know," she said, in a soft voice, and then she curled herself up more tightly, hiding her face in her knees. "I don't know..."
"What did she do to you?" he said, in a low voice, for no man could remain unmoved by such anguish.
"Little girl in a cage," she whispered, as if quoting someone. "She let me see things, sometimes...only the things that hurt. She showed how Mother didn't love me anymore...and then I knew no one would help, no one would save me..."
He was about to argue with her, then realized that he didn't know what to say. Maybe after fifteen annuals of looking at the Sorceress, the Queen had learned not to love her daughter. Hell, what did he know? But as a father, he knew that if something had taken Jeb, he would have moved heaven and earth to save his boy, and he could only wonder why one sister had been so precious, the other left to darkness. "You're safe now," was all he said, for sometimes platitudes were best.
"Yes. DG saved me."
He didn't know the full rights of it, but he shook his head. "You saved yourself. She couldn't have saved you if you hadn't wanted to be saved, Princess. Remember that. Hold on to that."
She smiled at him, just faintly. "Thank you..."
And he hoped she would remember it, hoped it would be enough, in the days to come, as the memories came back, as she faced all the Sorceress's doings. But for now, if it got her through the night, then that was something.