Title: ``the green-eyed monster
Description: the Lancreteroux Sisters.
Annabelle Lancreteroux - October 3, 2010 04:26 AM (GMT)
The day was new. The sound of the waterfalls of the Icclic Grove could have been deafening to any other race’s ears, but to the Hydriad’s, it was soothing and gentle. Even the least of the Hydriad could hear the water speaking with each and every ripple, the spray that came up from the waves, the crash against the shore, the tiny trickle of the smallest stream. Water was their lifeforce, and even Annabelle Lancreteroux, the rebellious Siren Princess, revered the water beyond anything else. She awoke that morning in quite a giddy mood, for each new day brought new possibilities of a new suitor, perhaps an invitation to a party, or some other social gathering. She was a social creature, and nobody could deny that. To her, the party had not started until she arrived.
A simple stretch did Annabelle well as she slipped her legs from the silken covers of her bed and placed her feet daintily upon the cool floor. It was then that she was reminded of the impending Masquerade Ball and the fact that she needed to do a bit of shopping around for just the right accessories… she would do that later that day. She was also reminded by the coldness of the floor that her presence had been requested by the cold Queen of the Sirens, her elder sister. Her countenance fell and Annabelle now reluctantly stepped away from the bed and toward the mirror, pouting at her reflection as her hand fell upon her ivory-handled brush. “EXCUSE ME?” She shouted suddenly, and anyone who might have been unaware of her morning routine may have thought her to be speaking to the brush, but in the next moment the door flew open and a handmaiden appeared, flushed and apologizing profusely.
“I don’t want to hear your excuses.” Annabelle snapped, waving her hand at the girl. “I need a frock. And get someone in here to take care of my hair. I’m feeling lazy this morning…” Annabelle inspected her nails for a moment, unashamed for the door to be wide open and she merely standing there in her chemise. Who hadn’t seen Annabelle in her chemise? While the princess pondered that one for a time, the handmaidens made haste to take care of their mistress’ needs, pulling fabric over her head and outstretched arms and yanking the stays of her corset as tight as they could manage. Her dress was fastened and another handmaiden began working on her hair. Within moments Annabelle had gone from nearly nothing, to perfectly put together, and that was how she liked it.
Annabelle inspected herself in her full-length, claw-footed mirror. A sage-green dress, bringing out the green in her greenish-blue eyes. She nodded approvingly and waved her hands at the handmaidens. “Please inform Her Majesty that I am on my way…” She commanded, though she ended with a sigh. It was no secret to anybody that Annabelle was jealous of her sister in more ways than one. It was difficult for one such as Annabelle to play second fiddle to anyone, especially her sister who just so happened to be the most powerful Hydriad alive. Everyone had gotten used to the fact that Annabelle was the rebellious princess who had always acted out her entire life because her sister had always been destined to take the throne.
It was excruciating to Annabelle, to watch her sister go to war, to watch her rule her people, to hear everyone of the countrymen (and women) praising her for what a wonderful leader she is…
Annabelle shook her head as if to shake the thoughts from her mind and straightened herself. “I suppose I’ve given her adequate time to be ready for me…” (As if anyone could be ready for Annabelle) She sighed and with the rustle of skirts, slipped from the room and down corridor after corridor until she reached the Queen’s Bedchambers. She knocked lightly but did not wait for an answer to allow herself inside. “Good-morning, Caterina…” Annabelle called out sweetly to her sister, whom she did adore in spite of the pangs of jealousy she endured. Her eyes fell upon her sister, the Queen, and she noticed she looked slightly paler than usual. She tilted her head slightly. “Is everything well with the war?” Truthfully, Annabelle had no idea what was going on with the war lately, for conversation surrounding it bored her to tears and she quickly put an end to it when anyone brought it up. “You look ill.” She said bluntly, crossing over to Caterina and placing a hand upon hers.
Caterina Lancreteroux - October 3, 2010 05:58 AM (GMT)
The soft visuals of a blond girl, dancing vigorously among the white dandelions that bobbed in the wind sent a chill of delight into the Queen. White ribbons and falling puffy seeds floating in the breeze and the shadow of Sethius's figure in the background lifted her mind to somewhere serene and overwhelmingly calming. A hill, overlooking the sea, the sounds of waves and a child's laughter rang in her ears as if she were witnessing the scene first hand. The lingering taste of wanted future nipped at the ideals of her mind, allowing her lips to form a firm smile despite the moistness and fragility of her eyes, peering so gently upon the scene that laid before her. Caterina had expected him to conform to the likes of her reason, and while in the midst of a deep surrealistic dream, the sound of one last echo of his voice woke her from it.
"Cat, I’ll see you at home.”
The days grew dreadfully long, painstakingly making the time more apparent with each agonizing sunrise. The light, however, was a nice change of pace; Caterina had been left to problems of the nightly hours for too long. This day was no different -- faltering to the inevitable rise of the morn, staring out at the whiteness of it's aura with tired eyes and wishful expressions of concern. Every night, Caterina replayed the memory of their conversation, holding every last detail to it's orient, depicting it in such an anguishing way that forgiveness seemed like an air of impossibility. She could still feel the warmth of his hand touch the tips of her fingers as he abruptly had opened that door she was about to leave through, turning his back on her until he was completely out of view. The events that later took place consisted of shamelessly throwing and shoving objects off of her desk, dresser and surrounding surfaces in brutal and contingent frustration.
Recent nights, Caterina would get to her knees at the bow of her bed, propping herself up with clasped hands, identically to the child-like figure her father had taught, praying with such dignified perseverance for the deliverance of her fate and to be rid of the consciousness that brought the greatest bout of her pain. Though with sudden realizations of the morning hours, she came to regret such impervious requests, despite her intensified hormonal mood swings, quickly knowing that the strength she knew to endure such relived moments was only a temporary by default. No matter how much she wished for things to be placed back as they once were months prior to the sorry state she'd hurried herself in, she refused to surface the wish to have never lived in joy at all; her hate was much to shallow to be embedded in thoughts so deep.
Sitting at the edge of her bed, Caterina stared down at the deep mahogany flooring, lost in the transition of thoughts. She'd already been well dressed as normal, fitting into a beige corset that matched the identical fabric as the rest of her gown. The collar rose to her neck, pleated with lace and connected with covered tee buttons. Her barren arms held no gloves, and her feet were rid of stockings. Caterina asked her maidens to curl her hair for her for hours on end, just so she could look at herself long and deep in the mirror with purpose.
What she saw in her reflection was not that of a Queen so important to the lives of thousands, but a woman who was brutally beaten into passive submission, abruptly woken from an enchanting dream - a dream of prosperity over propriety and where love was the quotient to ever equation. She hid the truth from herself, fearing the atrocity of it's initial release, letting it ring through her ears louder than it once had before : all dreams must inevitably come to an end. i]blemishing[/i] the frailty and igniting a new standpoint of adherence had been unfitting and unladylike; for once, she thought about the possibility of reason that Sethius had spoken of.
Now he was gone; unheard from. Misplaced in society. The sacrifice to withstand her own pride -- and she was left partner-less.
“Good-morning, Caterina…” The knock to the door shook her from the edge of the bed, looking up toward the source of it's sound. She'd been expecting Annabelle -- for Caterina had asked her younger sister to stay with her for the week for company, hoping that having her around would pose some sort of comfort to her own ailments. Having her own palace in Icclic falls, Caterina enjoyed venturing out to her second home, hoping that she would one day call it a first when she ultimately decided to retire. Retire. The main palace in Edelshia Prime was too much stress for the battered Queen to emotionally handle. "Come in." She said softly.
"Is everything well with the war? You look ill."
The Queen looked at her sister with a foreign look, alienating her own flesh to the likes of such a question. Truth be told -- no. Nothing was well. The war was slipping between her fingers and without her or either of her right hand men at her side, and the Quartrant frontlines must have been wandering about, lost in nothing but paperwork and detailed instructions she had left for the next commanding officer to follow. Caterina needed time away from it all -- even the little bundle of frustrating joy that embedded itself inside of her. The elder sister ultimately disregarded her comment and gripped the hand of the younger in return.
"I had one of my maidens prepare us some tea and breakfast." Caterina looked back at her beautiful youthful sister, motioning with a small movement of her jaw to join. She slid on a pair of house shoes before continuing out of her bedchambre. "No. I'm not fine, Annabelle. The war is not fine. Nothing is fine! Be grateful that I have managed to keep us out of harms way for as long as I have -- for every day that passes us by. War isn't something that should be taken lightly -- and I pray for you and Ethanov's safety everyday. Please.
Let's not discuss this."
Annabelle Lancreteroux - October 3, 2010 12:19 PM (GMT)
Annabelle watched her sister as she moved, as she spoke, as she breathed. There was something different about her that the younger Siren couldn’t quite place. It bothered her, but after a moment of pondering this, she shrugged it off. It could have very well been that she was stressed and worried about the war. Perhaps it was just that Annabelle had not spent enough time with her lately. And yet, whose fault was that? Caterina had always been the one who distanced herself from her other siblings – or at least her position as Queen had. There were times when Annabelle felt like a stranger in the presence of her own sister, the one who had basically raised her from a small age after their mother passed away. Their father certainly did not raising himself. Annabelle’s pretty face fell into a frown as memories of her father flooded her soul, and for a moment she felt as though she were standing in his cold and calculating presence, and yet it was Caterina standing there… close enough.
The thing about Caterina is that she always had a way of getting Annabelle in her most vulnerable spots. Annabelle wasn’t entirely sure she knew exactly how her words did affect the younger sibling, but Caterina had always had a knack for saying just the right thing to send Annabelle’s insecurities into a frenzy. The proud princess would never admit it, but it was her own doing. If she hadn’t allowed this deep-seated envy take up home in the depths of her soul, her sister’s words, said with good intentions, wouldn’t leave such a sting on Annabelle’s heart.
As it were, the envy was there, making quite a comfortable home within Annabelle, and spreading like wildfire.
Caterina’s words about the war, and how Annabelle ought to be grateful, and then dismissal stung Annabelle. She felt like she was a child who had just been scolded for asking too many questions about things that would never concern her. Caterina always made Annabelle feel like a child, whether she meant to or not, and Annabelle swallowed and nodded at the request to leave talk of war behind them as they moved toward their prepared breakfast. A defiant voice inside her head told her that she wasn’t interested in the war, anyway, and it wouldn’t bother her one bit if she never heard news or talk of it ever again.
Annabelle completely agreed and obediently followed her sister to where the breakfast had been prepared. Out of habit, she allowed her sister to take her seat before moving to sit as well. Tea and breakfast had been prepared, just as Caterina had said, and Annabelle only then realized that she was actually very hungry.
It was also then that Annabelle realized that she had little to nothing to talk to Caterina about. Small talk was not something that came easy to Annabelle when it came to her sister, and she busied herself unfolding her dainty napkin and laying it in her lap. That being done, she allowed tea to be poured for herself and began to stir in two cubes of sugar. Her spoon tinkled daintily against the teacup, filling the air between the two sisters, but finally when she could no longer stand the sound, she set the spoon down and looked over at her sister. “I plan on shopping for the Masquerade later… will you join me?”
Annabelle was almost surprised at herself for offering such an invitation to her sister. It wasn’t as if they had ever done much of anything together, much less shopping. Shrugging off her own surprise, she offered her sister a sweet smile. “We really haven’t spent much time together lately…” She trailed off, for they both knew whose fault that was.
Caterina Lancreteroux - October 3, 2010 11:16 PM (GMT)
It was a silent walk down the corridor staircase, hearing the hard echoes of paired footsteps rebound off the fancy victorian atmosphere. When things grew soft, the Queen began to think intrusively; she had grown to the point of insanity, fearing the quiet as an evil omen. She'd always wondered, however, if she had ever treated Annabelle poorly. The concern manifested upon the amount of roughness and stern notions she handed out, and the mere idea of having purposely distanced herself revealed a small frown on her face. Partly, the fact seemed inevitable -- for Annabelle wasn't exactly the most humble or charitable of people she'd known. Her arrogance was almost one that Caterina admired -- to be so carefree and blissfully unaware of the horrors outside the palace -- it was a life the Queen so selfishly wanted for herself.
A princess so naive and consumed with herself didn't belong on the battlefields.
The fates were damnable, being the girl chosen between the two to rise to the Queenly status at the Que of their own father. Sharing in nearly nothing but blood and history, she felt so unattached to her young and childish sister. It was the soul purpose for the moments of bonding she wanted to produce; inviting her along to spend the weekend with her away from the desolation of the main palace. The two of them hadn't shared a private meal since they were pretending, envious in intention as little girls. Tea was the choice of drink, and always Caterina insisted she be the mother. In essence, playing house wasn't exactly a fantasy.
Settling herself into the chair, Caterina looked up at her sister before she raised the silver rim of the hand-painted ceramic teacup to her lips. The handmaiden had set two plates before them, filled with breakfast crumpets and fruit for the two to enjoy. They sat there for a good long while in silence as Caterina peered over the teacup at Annabelle, hurriedly trying to make herself seem busy. She smiled softly at the humorous nature of their situation, despite the true foundation wasn't funny at all.
“I plan on shopping for the Masquerade later… will you join me? We really haven't spent much time together lately..."
Drawing in a deep breath, she looked off past her sister's shoulder, almost looking through the invisibility of the walls. "Do you remember when mom passed away? We were so young, then -- you were almost two." Caterina gave a genuine and soft smile as she set the cup back onto it's saucer. "When they finished burying her, you looked up at me with those gorgeous eyes of yours and asked me if she was ever coming back. I lied, and told you 'yes'." The Queen didn't look an ounce of ashamed, but rather happy to be relieving some of the tension. "Thereafter, I wanted to be the next best thing to both you and Ethanov. Being so young and naive, I didn't know any better and should have never risen to that position. I was always more of a mother than a sister, and for that I apologize."
"I would take it back time and time again if it meant that you and I would be closer. Only recently have I realized the importance of family; it is the essential part of life I have been missing for all these years." She paused for a good long while, picking up the cup and dish once more. Her eyes lingered on her sister's beautiful face - unscared and immaculate unlike her own and smiled. "I'm sorry, Annabelle. Of course I'll join you."
Ooc:: I apologize for that being WAAY fucking cheesy. But, unfortunately, Caterina is in a 'fuck, I need to fix my life' / Baby mode right now. >>
Annabelle Lancreteroux - October 4, 2010 05:14 PM (GMT)
Annabelle’s expression remained neutral as Caterina began recalling the events surrounding their mother’s death. There was very little she remembered that far back, being merely two years old at the time. She perhaps recalled glimpses of the funeral and a pained expression from her father, and after that his cold silence… but as for memories of her mother, or memories of when she died or how she felt… Annabelle had nothing. She grasped nothing and remembered nothing. Perhaps she had pushed it all from her mind. Her childlike innocence had not been scarred too deeply by the loss of a mother she barely remembered at all. Perhaps what did scar her was the isolation she felt from her father, whom she adored completely – although, from a forced distance. Perhaps her earliest full memory was of the time her father sent her away when she was merely five, to the summer cottage with her nurse because she had caused too much of a ruckus at the palace.
The arrangement lasted for a week or so, wherein Annabelle acted out as horribly as she could so she would be taken back... and when she was taken back, her father didn’t so much as greet her for he was bogged down with the stress of being King and a Single Father.
She pushed the memory away and tried to concentrate more on Caterina’s words. When the apology came from her sister’s lips, Annabelle looked away, down at the crumpets on her plate. She eyed it darkly for a moment before parting her pretty lips and letting a small exhale go before stating in a soft, almost faintly accusing voice: “What’s done is done.” Annabelle looked up and matched her sister’s eyes for the briefest of moments before continuing, this time her voice stronger, “There is no reason to apologize for doing what you felt best, at the time. How were you to know any better, being the eldest?” She smiled softly at her sister, trying to portray the forgiveness she was allowing herself to feel there. Perhaps their relationship would blossom from there… perhaps this could be a turning point. “There is nothing I wish for more in my life than to have my sister as that – my sister. Not my Queen, not my pseudo-mother…”
That wasn’t entirely true. Annabelle wished more than anything else to have the right to bear children as most other women had. And yet, she would pander to the moment, if it meant a closer relationship with her sister. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so secluded from her. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel quite as if she were playing second fiddle anymore.
Annabelle’s beautiful face lit up in a dimpled, childlike smile when her sister accepted the invitation to do their shopping together. Truly the princess could not recall ever shopping with Caterina, at least not as they were both adults. She wondered how calculating she was when making her decisions, for if she were anything like she was on the battlefield, it could be a long afternoon. Annabelle took a bite of her crumpet and brushed the crumbs from her fingers as she placed the remainder onto her plate. “We should have called Ethanov this weekend… we could have had a sibling reunion.” Annabelle said pleasantly, feeling much more optimistic about spending time with her sister.
“Champaign and cake!” Her eyes sparkled at the idea, for she could hardly resist either of the two if offered to her – what a celebration it would be, to have all three siblings together, there to patch up the relationship that had been marred by the absence of a proper mother figure in their lives, and the absence of an attentive father as well, at least for Annabelle.
ooc: Sorry if that's short!
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