The Moon Has Left Me In The Dark

Estella Vadas, younger sister of Maia Vadas. Step-aunt to Freya and Merek. || 26 years old || Soothsayer || Asteria, daughter of Phoebe and Koios, sister to Leto, wife to Perses and mother of Hecate. Goddess of the Oracles and Falling stars.

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Estella was everything but calm. Her posture, her exterior and her face resembled peace and easiness, but deep down beneath all that, she was terrified. The king wasn’t overly fond of her and with every knock on the door, she waited for the guards to come and seize her, for them to take her away. Fear became a large part of her life once again and, as a knock sounded on her door, she flinched and braced herself, a smile spreading on her lips widely.

“Do come in.” Elle called out, hoping it was another nightmare in question, rather than a guard.

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“You have trouble sleeping as well?” She asked as she poured a glass of wine to them both. “My sister has been plagued by ill dreams as of late.”

“I am not exactly troubled, but I can’t sleep. Insomnia more than anything else.” She shrugged. “She does? Well, maybe I can help her. I am good in deciphering dreams.”

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The scribe frowned, realising that the words made sense. “I do have marriage to tend to, but I am not sure whether my fiance really wants it. Something is rather strange about him, I feel like he is avoiding me. We rarely see each other these days, but I assume he is busy with his line of work.” She sighed in reply.

“The worst thing you can now do, is jump into conclusions. Talk to him, seek him out. He is your fiance after all.”

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Dette lingered on the doorway, observing Estella and her – well, whatever that ‘talent’ really was. When the woman declined telling her dreams to her, Bernedette entered the room and closed the door behind herself. “Interesting conversation there. I hoped to hear what idiocy plagues people nowadays.”

Estella turned towards the voice and rolled her eyes. “Their dreams aren’t idiocies, Bernedette. It really troubles people. Well, clearly not you, but it does bother the others.”

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Patricia was quiet for a moment before she stepped closer to the girl. “And what are you reading? If I may ask?”

“I am reading about this constellation called Cygnus. The Swan. I find it really interesting.” She replied.

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Miranda tilted her head, eyeing the woman carefully. It wasn’t complete bollocks what she was saying. It made sense and Miranda found herself nodding. “That sounds more probable than anything else I have heard so far.”

“I am glad I could be of help.” Estella smiled softly.

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Dorothy eyed the girl and after short consideration, nodded. “I can imagine that. You may sit with me for a while, if you wish so. I can offer you a strong Burgundy red.”

Estella nodded, the second the woman offered her a seat, and red wine. “Yes, thank you. That would be great.”

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“Yes, I have. I am a fan of Aristotle but Plato has his points.” She said, “I was hoping for something newer. Something not picked over by scholars.”

“I can’t say I know if the palace has anything newer.” Estella replied with a soft pout on her face. She was too absorbed in other areas to check whether there was something new on the philosophy section.

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She rubbed her eye lids with annoyance for a minute resisting the urge to stamp her feet like a little girl Penelope said once again, “No Please just let me buy the sleeping draughts.” Horatio like always was busy, and since her dreams Pasithea was reluctant to seek the man out, sleeping had been something she had an issue with but recently everything was seem to be changing.

“I can’t help you there, I do not sell them. I am merely a soothsayer, not a doctor. Perhaps Bernedette Fowler could help you. She deals with medicines.”

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“I keep dreaming of dying. Of being crushed to death. It is a horrible feeling, I can’t sleep because of it.” Briar leaned back on the chair and sighed heavily, folding her arms over her chest. “What do you think it means? Does it even mean anything?”

Estella listened to the girl speaking, frowning and nodding along, ushering her to speak. “You fear something. Something which hangs upon you, you feel like it could be the end of you. Whatever it is that troubles you, you need to face it.”

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She was was surprised to see the girl, she had not yet worked up the courage to go and ask Estella about her future and yet here so was. “I was hoping for some philosophy, something to spark some thought.” Patricia said, smiling a little at the girl.

“Philosophy, you say?” She retorted with a smile. “Well, have you read anything of the ancient philosophers? Aristotle, Plato...?”

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Miranda didn’t like asking for help. She never asked for help, not unless it was absolutely necessary. Bad dreams weren’t exactly on the top of the ‘necessary’ things, but as the time passed and the insomnia grew, the future queen became even more restless and snappy than usual. Deciding it be best to get it over with, she’s searched for someone she could talk to, someone of confidentiality. She figured the Vadas woman would suffice.

“I cannot sleep. At all. Sleeping draughts might be my only solution.” She replied with a low hiss and then rubbed her temples. “I don’t really know and that is the problem. I simply see a face doing monstrous things. It is like I know her, but at the same time I do not.”

Estella listened carefully, a small hum leaving her lips. “Well, did it cross your mind that it could be the other side of you? Sometimes, in our dreams, we can be ourselves. Without judgment of other, without gossips and evil eyes. Maybe you’re afraid to let yourself be yourself, by viewing that more relaxed side of you as a monster? It is not that uncommon a feeling. I had something similar myself.”

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Evita drummed her nails against the frayed woods of the table that was between the two, the corner of her crimson lips turning down in displeasure. Green eyes locked on the girl, studying her carefully before she uttered, “I am far too well acquainted with the meaning of my dreams. Not that they are any concern of yours. If you cannot provide me with a draft,” Evita shrugged. “I shall find it elsewhere.”

“I am a soothsayer, I do not sell draughts. The person you’re looking for is down the corridor to the right, her name is Bernedette. She can help you.”

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[ Greek Week ]

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Hecate didn’t know what to say to her mother on that. Shrugging, she’s decided to say nothing. “Whatever the case. It was good seeing you, Asteria, but I should be returning back to my work.”

“You too, daughter. If you ever need me... You know where to find me.”

-- CLOSED --

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“No, dear, do not do that. I know the dreams can be quite disturbing, and confusing, and terrifying, but sleeping draughts will only postpone the inevitable, and that is facing it. How about you tell me about that dream, yes? Maybe I can help in deciphering it.”

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Patricia ran her fingers down the spine of another book, she wasn’t finding what she wanted. She huffed, not sensing the presence behind her and muttering, “One would think that the library of a king would have every book to be desired.” 

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“That depends on what you’d like to read.” Estella said softly, lifting her eyes form the book she was reading. “What are you looking for?”

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Dorothy Oakes was seated by the large table in the kitchens, observing the servants with a watchful eye, making sure no one stole anything or messed with the food. She was as content as it was possible to her, for now.  When a person ventured into her area, the one who didn’t belong in the Kitchens, Dot puckered up her lips in a slightly annoyed manner, but kept her posture, as she observed the fidgeting person.

“Are you going to tell me what you need or will you keep standing there, staring at the fire? If you come too close, it will burn you, if that is what you’re wondering.” She slightly smirked. 

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Estella jumped at the voice. She didn’t expect anyone to be awake at this ungodly hour, and she really needed a drink. Turning around, she noticed it was the cook. “Sorry if I’m barging in uninvited. I just need something strong to drink. It has been a long day.”