"The Evil Queen", Virginia Lewis, PG
Jul. 23rd, 2008 09:07 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
tanrien.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
femgenficathonTitle: The Evil Queen
Author: tanrien
Fandom: The 10th Kingdom
Rating: PG
Warnings: /
Prompt: 137) There are many things in your heart you can never tell to another person. They are you, your private joys and sorrows, and you can never tell them. You cheapen yourself, the inside of yourself, when you tell them. -- Greta Garbo.
Summary: The Evil Queen never dies.
A "Thank you so much!" to both![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
alighiera, who was an amazing beta, and dooropener too.
They are not memories, how could they be? Snow White, who might be able to say, Yes, they are, or, No, they are nothing - but pure imagination, but the cry for help, but the anger, but the fear, but the hate, but the love - Snow White is no part of this world and neither would Virginia want her to be. It's-- the way it is, it's okay. She'll deal. Like she does.
But it's so easy, so easy it freaks her out, if slightly. She can't imagine her mother being like this (and yet knows: she is-- was):
Virginia walks down the street. It's a bright day. Virginia walks, her hands in her pockets. The bike is at home, safely pushed back into the garage. Behind the equitment for the swimming pool they brought. Virginia walks, her heels clicking on the ground. She raises her head up to the sun. Has it ever been different?
Yes.
The sun's warmth travels through her body and it's like looking in her son's eyes: too bright, too hot, too knowing, even when he is only six months old; his eyes burn.
About his hair, Wolf says: "He has yours."
About his face, Wendell says: "It's so cute", and his laugh is a bark.
About his grandchild, Virginia's father says: "He is like you", but Virginia knows the lies. She might be beautiful, but she gets that from her mother.
And Cub has his grandmother's eyes.
The shops vanish behind Virginia, the alleys grow longer and bigger and -- vaster. Her hands feel all right, not clammy at all, because the sweat is running down her spine and she doesn't know why. Her father is still in the Fourth Kingdom, or: yet again, and she thinks about visiting him. Just a quick walk from here, really, to the park where the mirror might be open (she knows it isn't, it's closed all right, but it would be easy to open, she thinks. She balls her hands into fists. Tight und bleeding. Until it hurts.) She doesn't go to the park. Her father is working and she doesn't particulary want to see him. It is just an idea, a quick thought. The other Kingdoms look equally inviting; a quick step to the side and she will be there.
Her feet ache. Because the shoes are too high, too small, too different for walking. Even if she hacks off her toes, she cannot wear them any longer. The sun burns her face, except there is no sun in the sky any more, but the moon. Virginia shivers, and, that's the strange part: first she shivers and then-- then she sees why. A quick walk down to the shop, she told Wolf, where she never arrived. She was walking away.
When she comes home, deep night, waning moon, Wolf has lines on his face which speak of worry. If she had disappeared for longer he would have hunted her, which is a relief, and called the police, or worse, her dad. He still might. So Virginia smiles - because her dad might recognize this: walking away - so she smiles and says, she was in thoughts, sorry. It's not really a lie.
This might have been the beginning except when it is not: It was the realisation. Or it could have been. Virginia doesn't know, she doesn't think about it, because her mother was smart (it's not really insulting to say her father is "not quite"). And she went away. Virginia is smart too. So she doesn't think. She loves the life she has. Every bit of it.
She does, she tells herself.
It sounds so small.
The next time, or possibly the 529th time, is at Wendell's high table. Wolf cradles their son in his lap, feeds him bits of meat until Cub's face is beet(blood)red and he is growling with delight. Virginia's father is laughing loudly, drowning all other conversations of the nobles into empty slumber. Virginia forces herself not to wince. The woman sitting next to her has no such qualms.
"He is so common!" she says, even if she doesn't have a medal, but being born in the right family at the right time seems to be enough. Perhaps she is an evil stepsister from somewhere.
"You think the king's continuing favour might be based on nothing?" Virginia asks and snorts lightly, while still eating.
The women in her ridiculous yellow dress turns and opens her mouth. She stares, then, and looks down at her plate. "I didn't mean to insult neither you nor the king," she says and Virginia feels the thrill: starting at the back of her skull and racing down her spine to her quivering legs. The woman doesn't look at her any more, but eats quietly.
Virginia smiles at her fish, and it takes her a minute to realise - so this, this might really be the first time, or just one of so many: Virginia realises that the woman fears her, just a bit, just what she might ssay, what she might tell either the king or her father or someone else. Virginia could cause this woman's downfall.
"It was poor judgement, yes," says Virginia.
She feels strong, just so strong, strong enough to let her smile grow wider and watch the woman cower before her. It's... nice. It's not like herself. So this is what she realises: this smile on her lips, the cruel one, which might just make her ask the woman to pass her the butter - the smile, it's her mother's.
Afterwards her father doesn't look shocked, so he probably didn't see. Wolf's shirt is ruined by Cub's fingerprints and that's where his attention was. Virginia looks at the woman. The woman doesn't quite run away when leaving.
And then, then she realises: The water in the bathtub smells like the rose she left at her mother's corpse. Only not really. It's not an organic smell, it's all plastic, it's all aroma, fake - nothing compared to the gentleness of Snow White, to green hills rising over a magical land of dreams and fairy tales. It's the rose-smell of an apartment in Manhatten, of a bathtub filled with water and soap which doesn't sting in children's eyes.
Virginia's hands feel cold as they wash Cub. Even when the water is boiling hot. She washes him, pours shampoo on his head, and knows that Wolf is watching her from the doorway. A dark, lean shape. Raised eyebrows. Not quite looming, but a comfort, but a reminder. She doesn't need his sense of smell, his awareness. Maybe because she has her mother's magic, maybe because she knows Wolf just this good - or maybe because she can see his reflection in the tiles. She washes Cub's hair carefully, with even strokes
when
her fingers itch to press his head under the surface. And she wants
to run
and to understand, why her mother gave up all this, all of this.
Virginia washes the shampoo out of her - their - son's hair. Wolf is beside her, holding the blue towel which is fluffy beyond belief. Viginia stands up. The water is dirty and the roses stink. She goes to the sink and turns on the faucet with clingy hands. In the mirror she can see Wolf toweling off Cub, who squeaks with delight. And if Virginia were able to travel through this bathroom mirror, she would never come back. But she doesn't try, doesn't lift her hand to touch the surface to see if (because) it might bend. Wolf is watching her. Now is not the time. (And she is grateful for his presence, because he suspects. Not all of it. But some.)
Wolf smiles. Virginia is proud of herself for her restraint. She smiles back and Wolf picks up their son to carry him to his room. Virginia looks down at her hands and sees them in purple satin gloves. She continues to wash them, then raises her head. The woman in the mirror looks back, just like her mother, just like her mother, just like her mother - like the Evil Queen and Virginia has to close her eyes. She has to.
She then hears Wolf's light footsteps in the hall, passing by, and quickly opens her eyes again. He cannot know.
Her father cannot know.
Nobody.
Because they would try to take this away from her. And Virginia is smart, she knows that all this is dangerous, and Virginia is strong, she could cope. She already copes. She would live. But--
She looks at the mirror. The last remains of her mother are in her, are a part of her, and how can she betray all of this? How can she let herself lose this? This is who she is.
She can keep quiet.
Because it's her mother.
(Virgnia is not her mother. Hers is such a small part in Virginia, and it's such a small lie.)
It's all she has left for Virginia.
Author: tanrien
Fandom: The 10th Kingdom
Rating: PG
Warnings: /
Prompt: 137) There are many things in your heart you can never tell to another person. They are you, your private joys and sorrows, and you can never tell them. You cheapen yourself, the inside of yourself, when you tell them. -- Greta Garbo.
Summary: The Evil Queen never dies.
A "Thank you so much!" to both
alighiera, who was an amazing beta, and dooropener too.They are not memories, how could they be? Snow White, who might be able to say, Yes, they are, or, No, they are nothing - but pure imagination, but the cry for help, but the anger, but the fear, but the hate, but the love - Snow White is no part of this world and neither would Virginia want her to be. It's-- the way it is, it's okay. She'll deal. Like she does.
But it's so easy, so easy it freaks her out, if slightly. She can't imagine her mother being like this (and yet knows: she is-- was):
Virginia walks down the street. It's a bright day. Virginia walks, her hands in her pockets. The bike is at home, safely pushed back into the garage. Behind the equitment for the swimming pool they brought. Virginia walks, her heels clicking on the ground. She raises her head up to the sun. Has it ever been different?
Yes.
The sun's warmth travels through her body and it's like looking in her son's eyes: too bright, too hot, too knowing, even when he is only six months old; his eyes burn.
About his hair, Wolf says: "He has yours."
About his face, Wendell says: "It's so cute", and his laugh is a bark.
About his grandchild, Virginia's father says: "He is like you", but Virginia knows the lies. She might be beautiful, but she gets that from her mother.
And Cub has his grandmother's eyes.
The shops vanish behind Virginia, the alleys grow longer and bigger and -- vaster. Her hands feel all right, not clammy at all, because the sweat is running down her spine and she doesn't know why. Her father is still in the Fourth Kingdom, or: yet again, and she thinks about visiting him. Just a quick walk from here, really, to the park where the mirror might be open (she knows it isn't, it's closed all right, but it would be easy to open, she thinks. She balls her hands into fists. Tight und bleeding. Until it hurts.) She doesn't go to the park. Her father is working and she doesn't particulary want to see him. It is just an idea, a quick thought. The other Kingdoms look equally inviting; a quick step to the side and she will be there.
Her feet ache. Because the shoes are too high, too small, too different for walking. Even if she hacks off her toes, she cannot wear them any longer. The sun burns her face, except there is no sun in the sky any more, but the moon. Virginia shivers, and, that's the strange part: first she shivers and then-- then she sees why. A quick walk down to the shop, she told Wolf, where she never arrived. She was walking away.
When she comes home, deep night, waning moon, Wolf has lines on his face which speak of worry. If she had disappeared for longer he would have hunted her, which is a relief, and called the police, or worse, her dad. He still might. So Virginia smiles - because her dad might recognize this: walking away - so she smiles and says, she was in thoughts, sorry. It's not really a lie.
This might have been the beginning except when it is not: It was the realisation. Or it could have been. Virginia doesn't know, she doesn't think about it, because her mother was smart (it's not really insulting to say her father is "not quite"). And she went away. Virginia is smart too. So she doesn't think. She loves the life she has. Every bit of it.
She does, she tells herself.
It sounds so small.
The next time, or possibly the 529th time, is at Wendell's high table. Wolf cradles their son in his lap, feeds him bits of meat until Cub's face is beet(blood)red and he is growling with delight. Virginia's father is laughing loudly, drowning all other conversations of the nobles into empty slumber. Virginia forces herself not to wince. The woman sitting next to her has no such qualms.
"He is so common!" she says, even if she doesn't have a medal, but being born in the right family at the right time seems to be enough. Perhaps she is an evil stepsister from somewhere.
"You think the king's continuing favour might be based on nothing?" Virginia asks and snorts lightly, while still eating.
The women in her ridiculous yellow dress turns and opens her mouth. She stares, then, and looks down at her plate. "I didn't mean to insult neither you nor the king," she says and Virginia feels the thrill: starting at the back of her skull and racing down her spine to her quivering legs. The woman doesn't look at her any more, but eats quietly.
Virginia smiles at her fish, and it takes her a minute to realise - so this, this might really be the first time, or just one of so many: Virginia realises that the woman fears her, just a bit, just what she might ssay, what she might tell either the king or her father or someone else. Virginia could cause this woman's downfall.
"It was poor judgement, yes," says Virginia.
She feels strong, just so strong, strong enough to let her smile grow wider and watch the woman cower before her. It's... nice. It's not like herself. So this is what she realises: this smile on her lips, the cruel one, which might just make her ask the woman to pass her the butter - the smile, it's her mother's.
Afterwards her father doesn't look shocked, so he probably didn't see. Wolf's shirt is ruined by Cub's fingerprints and that's where his attention was. Virginia looks at the woman. The woman doesn't quite run away when leaving.
And then, then she realises: The water in the bathtub smells like the rose she left at her mother's corpse. Only not really. It's not an organic smell, it's all plastic, it's all aroma, fake - nothing compared to the gentleness of Snow White, to green hills rising over a magical land of dreams and fairy tales. It's the rose-smell of an apartment in Manhatten, of a bathtub filled with water and soap which doesn't sting in children's eyes.
Virginia's hands feel cold as they wash Cub. Even when the water is boiling hot. She washes him, pours shampoo on his head, and knows that Wolf is watching her from the doorway. A dark, lean shape. Raised eyebrows. Not quite looming, but a comfort, but a reminder. She doesn't need his sense of smell, his awareness. Maybe because she has her mother's magic, maybe because she knows Wolf just this good - or maybe because she can see his reflection in the tiles. She washes Cub's hair carefully, with even strokes
when
her fingers itch to press his head under the surface. And she wants
to run
and to understand, why her mother gave up all this, all of this.
Virginia washes the shampoo out of her - their - son's hair. Wolf is beside her, holding the blue towel which is fluffy beyond belief. Viginia stands up. The water is dirty and the roses stink. She goes to the sink and turns on the faucet with clingy hands. In the mirror she can see Wolf toweling off Cub, who squeaks with delight. And if Virginia were able to travel through this bathroom mirror, she would never come back. But she doesn't try, doesn't lift her hand to touch the surface to see if (because) it might bend. Wolf is watching her. Now is not the time. (And she is grateful for his presence, because he suspects. Not all of it. But some.)
Wolf smiles. Virginia is proud of herself for her restraint. She smiles back and Wolf picks up their son to carry him to his room. Virginia looks down at her hands and sees them in purple satin gloves. She continues to wash them, then raises her head. The woman in the mirror looks back, just like her mother, just like her mother, just like her mother - like the Evil Queen and Virginia has to close her eyes. She has to.
She then hears Wolf's light footsteps in the hall, passing by, and quickly opens her eyes again. He cannot know.
Her father cannot know.
Nobody.
Because they would try to take this away from her. And Virginia is smart, she knows that all this is dangerous, and Virginia is strong, she could cope. She already copes. She would live. But--
She looks at the mirror. The last remains of her mother are in her, are a part of her, and how can she betray all of this? How can she let herself lose this? This is who she is.
She can keep quiet.
Because it's her mother.
(Virgnia is not her mother. Hers is such a small part in Virginia, and it's such a small lie.)
It's all she has left for Virginia.
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