Here There be Dragons: Testing the Waters

Nereida made it to her room before the sobs overtook her. Her father had died hating her. Thinking she was a monster, a shell. She held Damara, sobbing, until the baby began to cry as well, startled by the fat tears that rolled off her forehead.

“Mommy?” It was Egaz who arrived first, his little, chubby face full of worry and fear that no child should wear. She wanted to say something to him, something deep and comforting. But all she managed was:

“My father is dead.” Egaz slipped into her arms, cuddling into her. He whispered soothing things to her, things she had said to him after nightmares. He tickled his sister’s feet and was simply calm and kind. And when the sobs were spent, Nereida shifted to better hold him and the baby. She kissed his head.

Aella arrived, looking out of breath and pale.

“Love…” she seemed to grapple with words, but could not find any, and instead wrapped her arms around Nereida. They stayed like that for several minutes, until Alejo returned from playing in the hay bales with the stable boy. He looked at his family, cuddled without him, and pouted. But Nereida called for him, asked him to join them, and he did, hesitantly cuddling in beside Aella.

“My father died,” Nereida said again, this time with more certainty and less pain. “We… we will have to dress in white or undyed clothing for a fortnight. No singing or games in public. You must be… you must be somber and sad.”

“But he hated us,” Alejo whispered. “Why do we have to be sad for him?” Nereida flinched at his words. Aella came to the rescue, placing her hand on Alejo’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to be sad for him,” she said. “But your mommy is sad. Can you be sad for her?” He paused and then nodded.

“I’m sorry mommy.”

“Don’t be, little love. Off to your room now, wait there. I will be up to help you find appropriate wear.”

“I’m eight now, mommy. I am grown up enough to get dressed in white.” He stood, and held his hand out to Egaz. “Come on, let’s show mommy that we are big.” And together they headed off.

Nereida turned to Aella.

“You are going to hate this next part,” she said softly. Aella smiled at her sadly.

“I’ll do whatever you need, love. This… I can’t claim to have loved him, but you did. You and your brothers.” Nereida nodded. She felt like a sponge that had been wrung out too many times. She had prepared for her mother’s death in her own mind. But her father, he was strong as the Sacred Mountain and just as volatile. He was supposed to last forever.

“We have grieving rituals. They involve wearing simple clothing, nothing with buttons or eyelets, but belts and ties are fine. No ribbon, no lace, no ruffles.” Aella nodded, as if all of this was simple. She’d need to wear some of the clothing from the palace. Certainly one of her sisters-in-law had spares that would suit Aella. “We are not to work, not to make any life changes that can be done by choice. We cannot… we cannot make love to our spouses.”

“Two weeks is fine, love, I can manage two weeks.”

“We also… we are forbidden from doing anything to increase our beauty. No powdering our faces,” Aella laughed at that, since neither of them bothered. It was mostly done among the younger members of court or the very old. “No painting our nails.” Aella nodded at this too. It was not one of her customs, but Nereida knew of some Sylphs who did. “And…” she winced and turned away from Aella, not wanting to see her reaction. “Our hair must be down. It cannot be contained in any braids, twists or pulled back.”

There was a long stretch of silence between them. Nereida risked a peek at her wife, and saw the redness that had climbed up into her cheeks. She made a strangled noise that might have been funny at any other time.

“No… I… um…” Aella sank into the couch as if she were faint. “None of the ladies will have their hair up?” Her voice squeaked. Nereida felt a short-lived chuckle escape.

“None,” she agreed. And she began to laugh. Full-bodied, shaking laughter that stung her eyes and stole her breath. She laughed until her ribs hurt, and then began to sob. It was too much to feel. She wanted to escape. She wanted to run.

But she couldn’t leave when her mother needed her. Not again.

She was not sure how long she sat on the floor, laugh-crying. Aella sat beside her, rubbing her back and whispering soothing things to her. And when she could finally breathe again, she leaned into Aella, clinging to her.

“He died hating me,” she whimpered. Aella kissed her head.

“I know, love. And I’m sorry for that. I never wanted that for you.” Her voice cracked on her words. Nereida closed her eyes, blocking out everything that wasn’t her wife. “You… you should talk to your brothers, love. Don’t let them… don’t risk them dying with hate in your heart too.”

“Even Caleb?” she asked, feeling small, helpless and tired. Her voice did not sound like her own, but like a child’s. Aella hesitated, and then kissed her cheek.

“If he is… if he is like a brother to you, Ner, you should make up with him. He lost someone today too.” Nereida nodded and wiped at her tears.

Together they went to their shared bedroom. They brought Damara to the nursemaid, asked that she be fed, and then dressed in mourners’ clothes. The woman nodded, offering her deepest condolences, though it was clear she did not yet know who was dead. That would come, when heralds and terrible clanging bells announced the passing of the king… her father was dead. The bedroom, decorated primarily in pale purples and blue flowers, had been their sanctuary, where they could be themselves. Nereida wanted to flee from the room now. It was too much to be here in the castle. Aella pressed the door closed and lowered the latch.

Without words, Aella began to help Nereida undress. She went button by button, running her hands over the soft fabric. The clothing she removed she was folded and put away before moving on to the next piece. Aella would stop and smile at Nereida after each piece was removed. She ran her fingers through Nereida’s shoulder-length hair, removing the braids for her. Nereida wanted so badly to lose herself in Aella’s touch. It was wrong to do so; Aella had once said she would not be used for comfort. Besides that, it was against all she had been taught. But… she still wanted it, wanted her wife, wanted to forget and be soothed.

Aella knelt before her to remove her stockings, since they had bits of embroidery on them, making them forbidden. She leaned in and kissed Nereida’s knee. The siren nearly buckled at the sudden touch.

“Take out my hair, love,” Aella whispered. “It should always be you who takes out my hair.” Nereida shivered, and felt need for her wife awaken in her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

“Aella,” she managed, her voice choked by lust. She carefully, slowly, undid the ribbon in Aella’s hair, and teased the braids out. The beautiful, silky black hair tumbled free. She took a moment to stroke it, and Aella leaned into the touch.

“I love you, Ner,” Aella whispered.

“I love you too.”

Aella stood, and helped her get dressed in a soft linen shift and simple overdress. Neither had any embroidery, colour or fasteners. She felt awful, dressed in what were little better than bags with holes in them, in clothing that made her look like a bag of flour. Her eyes hurt from crying, and she was a mess of a person. But despite that, Aella held her tight, whispering her love.

“I don’t know how I’d manage without you,” Nereida admitted. Aella tightened her grip but did not say anything more.

Once Nereida was calm again, she helped her wife get appropriately attired. The servants were able to find her a dress that would fit, since she was small and thin. Still, it was too large, and sat on Aella with all the shapeliness of a potato. Aella still looked beautiful and fierce. Nereida found an old bonnet without lace, and placed it on her wife’s head.

“It’s not a braid,” she said softly. “But, will this help, Aella.” The Admiral nodded, touching the bonnet carefully.

“Needs a feather,” she joked. Nereida snickered.

“Pretty sure feathers are forbidden too.” The little half smile made her face hurt like her cheeks were made of glass, and so she looked down at the soft, sheepskin rug, letting her momentary amusement bleed away.

The children were ready for them when they returned to the main sitting room. Both boys had caps over their hair, hiding their bright, colourful locks. They shuffled back and forth, clearly ill at ease. The baby slept in her nursemaid’s arms.

“We have to go see your grandmother,” Nereida said to her children. “Later, you three will. But her children need to be with her when she… when she sees him.” She faltered, hating every second of this. Aella squeezed her hand.

“Can we read?” Alejo asked softly.

“Reading is allowed,” she replied with a sad smile. “Mind the nurse, listen with your best ears.”

“Yes mama.”

“And boys,” Aella added. They turned to her. “We love you. See you soon.” Egaz grinned but Alejo looked embarrassed. They both took off in a run toward the library, eager to find a story or two to take their minds off their mother’s sadness. Nereida wished she could distract herself as easily. Together, hand in hand, they headed toward her mother’s suite. Two female guards followed them at ten paces behind, keeping their eyes on the couple to make sure no rules were broken. The taller of the two coughed when she noticed that Nereida had not let go. Reluctantly, Nereida let go of her lifeline, and headed to see her mother. She would have to be strong now. Her mother needed her.