Your life and death were never your own
Nov. 21st, 2012 02:47 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
annwfyn.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
writing_shadows"All you will ever need to know, Solace, is perfect submission and perfect obedience. And when you have given that to the chosen Son of Wolf who will make you his - he who will hold your death in his hands - then he will give you everything else you will ever need."
The old woman smiled at the little girl, and reached out and touched her cheek very gently.
"We both know, don't we, that you won't change, sweetheart. There's no real wolf in you. We can all see if. And if you've not been chosen by the Gods - and we can't all be chosen - then this is what you will learn.
"You'll learn to be soft, to be gentle, to give the solace than your name says you were made for. You will learn to give, to let yourself belong to someone else entirely. Your life and death will never be your own. And that's where you will find your Perfection, darling."
**************************
"I don't understand why you're being so difficult, Solace," the middle aged woman snapped at the teenage girl. "You should be grateful. Do you think most of the Blood of Wolf are cared for this way? You think most are protected?
"You should thank your lucky stars that you're not some poor Ninna Farakh, dying of an infected scratch in the back of beyond, or, worse, one of the Izidakh breeding stock, kept locked away in a room somewhere and forced to push out brat after brat for Rabid Wolf until your poor body gives out.
"Or maybe you'd rather be in the hands of the Urdaga who pass their wolf blood around like packages, from man to man, until they aren't young and pretty any more at which point they are abandoned to be devoured by the hateful gods of the Forsaken.
"This is one of the heroes of Alba, one of the Purest of the Pure. He has challenged your mother honourably and fought for the right to take your death into his hands. He will make a good mate, a strong one.
"I don't understand why exactly you are objecting to this now. Who do you think you are?
"Your life and your death were never your own."
**************************
Somehow, no matter how hard she tried, Solace never could stop herself from screaming eventually. Oh, she tried. She really really tried. But there was always a point where she snapped.
Today she had lasted quite well, she thought. She hadn't said a word when her husband had slapped her. She'd stayed quiet through two cigarettes stubbed out on her shoulders. But then he'd taken her little finger and bent it back until it made a horrible noise that sent shudders all the way through her bones and then she had screamed.
Her husband was smiling, with his teeth sharper than they should be.
"Did that hurt, Solace?" he said softly. "Did it? Maybe you should ask me to stop? Will you ask me to stop, sweetheart?
"Or are we going to play that very silly game where you try and defy me? I hope we're not, Solace, because it really upsets me when you do that.
"I don't want to mark you up, darling. You know I don't want to. You're ugly enough as it is without all these nasty scars. But if you defy me, you know that's what I've got to do. I can't just let you get away with it."
The words her husband wanted were coming out now. At least they were just the ritual words of submission. Those words were alright. They were just the words that the Blood of the Wolf had said for a thousand years. They could have come from anyone. They didn't come from Solace herself. She could hide behind those words, use them like armour.
"Good girl," he whispered softly and kissed her on the forehead, then slapped her, hard, around the back of her head when she shuddered.
"Don't move away from me, bitch," he snarled. "You're mine. Remember this. Mine. I hold your fucking death in my hands and I can dispense it any time I chose. Your life and your death were never your own."
**************************
Johnny frowned a little.
"I'm not convinced," he said, and put an arm around Solace's shoulder affectionately. He felt good to be close to. He was warm to touch and he was the only thing since Solace had run from Scotland who had ever entirely made sense to her.
"Tell him" he said and paused for a while to think how to phrase it properly. "No. Tell him what you like, but I do not believe that a member of the Silver Crusade will make my sister happy. When that is done, then he can come and see me, and we shall see."
He kissed Solace affectionately on the forehead, and for a moment she was very still, and then she snuggled a little closer.
Solace didn't murmur the ritual words of submission, which, once upon a time, any family member would have said was a very bad sign. They had all given up on getting anything more than that from Solace a long time ago. That was something she'd determinedly kept locked away for as long as she could remember, with the ritual as a great big wall to keep everyone else away.
This time she didn't even offer ritual submission. She would find a way to deal with this later, when she'd had some time to think it through, but she didn't even try to argue with her brother.
After all, her life and her death had never been her own.
The old woman smiled at the little girl, and reached out and touched her cheek very gently.
"We both know, don't we, that you won't change, sweetheart. There's no real wolf in you. We can all see if. And if you've not been chosen by the Gods - and we can't all be chosen - then this is what you will learn.
"You'll learn to be soft, to be gentle, to give the solace than your name says you were made for. You will learn to give, to let yourself belong to someone else entirely. Your life and death will never be your own. And that's where you will find your Perfection, darling."
"I don't understand why you're being so difficult, Solace," the middle aged woman snapped at the teenage girl. "You should be grateful. Do you think most of the Blood of Wolf are cared for this way? You think most are protected?
"You should thank your lucky stars that you're not some poor Ninna Farakh, dying of an infected scratch in the back of beyond, or, worse, one of the Izidakh breeding stock, kept locked away in a room somewhere and forced to push out brat after brat for Rabid Wolf until your poor body gives out.
"Or maybe you'd rather be in the hands of the Urdaga who pass their wolf blood around like packages, from man to man, until they aren't young and pretty any more at which point they are abandoned to be devoured by the hateful gods of the Forsaken.
"This is one of the heroes of Alba, one of the Purest of the Pure. He has challenged your mother honourably and fought for the right to take your death into his hands. He will make a good mate, a strong one.
"I don't understand why exactly you are objecting to this now. Who do you think you are?
"Your life and your death were never your own."
Somehow, no matter how hard she tried, Solace never could stop herself from screaming eventually. Oh, she tried. She really really tried. But there was always a point where she snapped.
Today she had lasted quite well, she thought. She hadn't said a word when her husband had slapped her. She'd stayed quiet through two cigarettes stubbed out on her shoulders. But then he'd taken her little finger and bent it back until it made a horrible noise that sent shudders all the way through her bones and then she had screamed.
Her husband was smiling, with his teeth sharper than they should be.
"Did that hurt, Solace?" he said softly. "Did it? Maybe you should ask me to stop? Will you ask me to stop, sweetheart?
"Or are we going to play that very silly game where you try and defy me? I hope we're not, Solace, because it really upsets me when you do that.
"I don't want to mark you up, darling. You know I don't want to. You're ugly enough as it is without all these nasty scars. But if you defy me, you know that's what I've got to do. I can't just let you get away with it."
The words her husband wanted were coming out now. At least they were just the ritual words of submission. Those words were alright. They were just the words that the Blood of the Wolf had said for a thousand years. They could have come from anyone. They didn't come from Solace herself. She could hide behind those words, use them like armour.
"Good girl," he whispered softly and kissed her on the forehead, then slapped her, hard, around the back of her head when she shuddered.
"Don't move away from me, bitch," he snarled. "You're mine. Remember this. Mine. I hold your fucking death in my hands and I can dispense it any time I chose. Your life and your death were never your own."
Johnny frowned a little.
"I'm not convinced," he said, and put an arm around Solace's shoulder affectionately. He felt good to be close to. He was warm to touch and he was the only thing since Solace had run from Scotland who had ever entirely made sense to her.
"Tell him" he said and paused for a while to think how to phrase it properly. "No. Tell him what you like, but I do not believe that a member of the Silver Crusade will make my sister happy. When that is done, then he can come and see me, and we shall see."
He kissed Solace affectionately on the forehead, and for a moment she was very still, and then she snuggled a little closer.
Solace didn't murmur the ritual words of submission, which, once upon a time, any family member would have said was a very bad sign. They had all given up on getting anything more than that from Solace a long time ago. That was something she'd determinedly kept locked away for as long as she could remember, with the ritual as a great big wall to keep everyone else away.
This time she didn't even offer ritual submission. She would find a way to deal with this later, when she'd had some time to think it through, but she didn't even try to argue with her brother.
After all, her life and her death had never been her own.
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Date: 2012-11-21 03:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-21 03:59 pm (UTC)I was trying to explain the huge pile of gunk in the back of her brain, from the way that she uses the weird formality, to why she is quite so bad at dealing directly with anything.
no subject
Date: 2012-11-21 06:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 09:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 11:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 11:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 12:18 pm (UTC)The PCs rescued them (I was playing Rio at the time) but it got me thinking - could someone like that rescue themself? If they did, how difficult would it be to function afterwards. Would they be able to heal? And how weird would it be living in this world which is not your own.
And that was where Solace came from.
no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 12:25 pm (UTC)i have specifically stated that Mary doesn't know how she got away - it's possible her Keeper just got tired of her and she never freed herself at all.
but then i was also playing with the idea of self-definition - how does she create a sense of self after having lived for others her whole life?
no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 12:28 pm (UTC)It's one of the things that really interests me.
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Date: 2012-11-22 12:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 04:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-21 06:29 pm (UTC)