So that one was meant for Morgana and Michelle’s birthday as well as for Day 8: Final Door - Fairy Tale for @fata10thanni
It got late 💔 But I still got around to finish it! Happy birthday 🦋
[Image description: A traditional fanart with ink and paint of The House in Fata Morgana. It shows the characters of Morgana and The White-Haired Girl or Michelle. Morgana is a teenage girl with pale skin, golden eyes, and long red braids resting on her shoulders and longing her whole body. She is sitting down and wearing a white dress with long sleeves and golden frames, with her left hand set on an open book in front of her. The White-Haired Girl is sitting to Morgana’s right and touching her shoulder. She is a teenage girl with pale skin, long white hair and red eyes wearing the same dress. A white dove is flying to her holding a letter in its talons, and The White-Haired Girl is reaching out to it with her left hand. Morgana and The White-Haired Girl are in the middle of the picture while pages from the book are flying around them. They are surrounded by green ronces and blue strikes in the background. They are framed by a beige border with white lozenges. /End description]
A bit of history: sometimes it's love at first sight, other times it's love at first door. I was amazed since the beginning by the wonderful music and characters!
Fandom: The House in Fata Morgana
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationship: Nellie Rhodes & Isadora Rhodes, Mell Rhodes & Nellie Rhodes
Summary: Nellie’s mother gave her a mirror as a present for her fifth birthday. She’d always loved looking at her reflection with it, until she doesn’t.
Words: 2,082
AO3 | Ff.net
[A collection of unrelated one-shots for the @fata10thanni prompts:
Day 1: Door 1 — Mirror
Day 2: Door 2 — Gardening and Botany
Day 3: Door 3 — In the Shadows]
Notes: Happy 10th Anniversary, FataMoru! And happy Fata Week as well!
Shh, I know, I know, I’m late, but listen. Better late than never.
So, this was written for the Fata Week in celebration of… well, Fata’s 10th anniversary, from those prompts: on Tumblr and Twitter. Ideally I really wanted to wrote a little something for each of the 10 prompts, but I dunno if I’ll actually be able to make it. Even if I do it’ll probably take some time cause for some reason I have zero energy lately and it feels like a struggle for me to write. But well I’ll still try! We’ll see how it goes.
Anyway, here’s the first prompt for Door 1. This takes place, well, before, during and after Door 1, so spoilers for that as well as for the short story related to it, ‘A Slow-Killing Poison.’
And oh, yeah, in case you were wondering: the names used here for Nellie and Mell’s parents, Isadora and Barnard, are their actual official names; they were given in the guidebook as well as in one untranslated short story.
When she turned five years old, Nellie’s mother offered her a huge mirror for her birthday.
It was beautiful — all golden and silver and shining, with gorgeous, delicate flowers carved in it (not roses, sadly, but those lilies were pretty enough that Nellie tolerated them). She was so small at the time that when she stood in front of it she could only see the top of her head and two amber eyes peeking out in the bottom of the glass, but even so she couldn’t help but stare at her reflection excitedly every time she passed in front of it.
“You really like this mirror, don’t you, Nellie?”
Her mother Isadora asked her this once with a soft, content smile, as she looked at the little girl spun around right before the mirror.
“Yup! Like that, I can look at how cute I am every day!”
Isadora laughed — and Nellie didn’t know why because she was very serious — then gently caressed her daughter’s flaxen hair.
“You know, mirrors are very important for women.”
“To help us making us pretty!” The child exclaimed proudly.
“Well, there’s that,” her mother conceded. “But it also helps us to remember who we truly are.”
Nellie didn’t understood that. Isadora looked a little strange saying this, but just when she was about to press her further, she noticed Mell’s silhouette popping up at the door and her face beamed.
“Dearest Mell! Have you seen the mirror Mother gave me? Hey, hey, have you?”
She dragged her brother in front of the mirror — because he was slightly taller than Nellie, unlike her his entire head could be seen in the reflection — and then she excitedly told him all about all the other presents she’d gotten. Mell just smiled gently at her, nodding quietly, like he always did.
And so she completely forgot all about this conversation, until one night a few weeks later when she went to find her mother in her bedchamber. Nellie should be asleep already at this time, but she had a nightmare and couldn’t stand to stay alone in her bed anymore. Usually, she would’ve gone to Mell to comfort her, but both he and their father Barnard weren’t home tonight; they went out of town because of some complicated business matters and Barnard had wanted his son with him for some reason. They wouldn’t be back until a couple of days, so unfortunately only the women of the house were here tonight and she had to settle for her mother instead of her brother.
It wasn’t like Nellie disliked Isadora or anything. She very much loved her, in fact; just as much as she loved her father. Both of them were very kind and always complimented her and gave her everything she wanted.
But… they still weren’t Mell.
Her mother was quite affectionate, but she also strictly scolded Nellie whenever she did anything little girls weren’t supposed to. Her father always bought her the most beautiful dresses and dolls, but he hated letting Nellie play outside or forced her to talk and be polite to men and boys she had no interest in.
Mell never expected anything like that from her. He never tried to restrict her. He always listened to her in such a genuine, attentive way that her parents just never did.
With Mell, she was always free, and she never felt that way with anyone else.
Isadora was sitting down in front of a mirror in her gorgeous embroidered white nightgown, while her long, wavy blond hair — of a very distinct fairer color than the rest of the family — fell on her shoulders elegantly.
Her mother was very beautiful. The most beautiful woman on earth even, in Nellie’s eyes. She really wanted to be just like her when she’d be grownup.
“Mother,” she murmured while trotting over to her, and Isadora got startled when she felt her daughter’s presence and her arms wrap around her waist.
“Oh my. Nellie, honey, what’s wrong?”
“Nightmare,” the girl mumbled in her mother’s clothes. “Can’t sleep.”
“Oh, poor dear.” The woman grabbed her daughter right away and put her on her lap, gently caressing her hair in a soothing manner. Nellie buried her face in her mother’s neck, letting herself get lulled by her warmth and faint citrus perfume.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Don’t remember.”
“I see…”
Isadora then fell quiet. After a moment of complete silence, Nellie lifted her head and stared curiously at her. Her mother… looked strangely sad. She stared fixedly into the mirror, her features stretched in clear sorrow and nostalgia.
She did that, sometimes. She’d go quiet and all melancholic, lost in thoughts.
Nellie never knew what she must be thinking about when it happened, but she never dared to ask; as if doing so would break some kind of taboo.
That’s when she suddenly remembered what her mother had told her, when she’d offered her the golden mirror for her birthday.
“…Does it help you remember?” She asked.
Her mother blinked, then looked at her oddly. “Huh?”
“You said it the other day. You said mirrors help women remember and see us for who we really are.”
Isadora’s expression cleared in understanding, but then something more complicated spread on her face.
“Oh, right…”
She looked up into the glass once again, and stared. Nellie wondered what she must be seeing, because it didn’t seem to be her reflection.
“Yes, I suppose it does. Whenever I look at it, I can’t help but remember him, and her—”
“Him and her?”
Isadora smiled sadly, grief filling her eyes, and then she shook her head.
“Yes. It helps me remember them, and then, it helps me remember my sins.”
Nellie’s eyes widened with surprise. “Mother, you sinned?!”
‘Sin,’ in Nellie’s mind, was when she didn’t listen to her governess or broke a vase accidentally or went running around in the garden without being careful and dirtied her clothes. But those were all things she could never imagine her beautiful, elegant, always perfect mother doing. However, when her mother looked at her and replied, her answer had nothing to do with what she’d expected.
Nellie took the habit to stop and look at herself in her mirror every morning.
With each month, each years that passed, she could see herself grow up little by little in the looking-glass; her hair became longer, her silhouette refined, her chest a bit bigger.
By the time she reached fourteen, Nellie looked almost like a grown woman, almost like her mother — Isadora and Barnard and every adult around her always made sure to compliment her on this, on how pretty she’d became, how she’d have no trouble finding a good suitor with how beautiful of a young lady she now was.
But instead of making her happy like she’d imagined it would as a child, it started to fill her with dread.
The less she looked like a little girl, and the more it was harder to deny the reality that was catching up to her dreamy, ideal life.
Nellie wasn’t stupid, contrary to what most people around her seemed to think; she was well-aware her sheltered life where she could just spend her days playing around with her dearest Mell would inevitably come to an end.
She’d have to get married, leave Mell, have children.
The simple thought of it got her stomach tied up in knots. It made her want to run away and never look back; but she was too scared to do so. Not all alone, anyway.
Nellie hated being alone more than anything in the world.
That was why she couldn’t bear the perspective of getting separated from Mell, because he was the only one who truly loved her for who she was — but no matter how much she wished it, she couldn’t bend reality just because she wanted to.
At some point, she knew she’ll have to wake up from the dream — and she knew it’ll hurt more than anything.
And that point seemed to grow nearer and nearer as her appearance kept changing.
She didn’t want to grow up. She wanted to stay a little girl forever, so that she didn’t have to part away from Mell, so that she didn’t have to get married, so that she didn’t have to get locked up in that cage everyone around wanted to fit her into.
Unlike Mell, who had the privilege to keep meandering in life however he pleased, Nellie would be forced to wake up brutally.
(And maybe, just maybe, despite how much she loved him, there was a little part of Nellie who resented him for it. Just a little.)
She used to love looking into that mirror, but now it only made her feel ugly.
Maybe her mother’s words from all those years ago were true, after all.
Mirrors were there to help them remember who they truly were.
But Nellie didn’t want to.
“Oh my? Why did you cover it up?”
Isadora stared strangely at the big mirror, which was entirely hidden by a large piece of white sheet Nellie had gotten somewhere.
“Mother,” she said, softly, without looking at the other woman. “What do I look like?”
Isadora probably didn’t understand her real question, because she just smiled gently at her.
“You look beautiful of course, my darling. Soon you’ll be as pretty as all the noble ladies of the court.”
Nellie’s chest twisted. It hurt, even though it was stupid of her to feel that way.
She’d already knew her mother would say that, after all, because that was what everyone always said.
Her mother, her father, all of the servants and nobles and anyone glancing at her.
In the end, even her dearest Mell thought that way.
The curtain kept flying up under the breeze in the room.
There was never any sound.
Or at least, there wouldn’t be from an outsider’s perspective, but to Nellie, the bedchamber was always filled with laughters and cheerful high-pitched voices.
Her brother, not much taller than the bed, was always next to her, reading and smiling — and Nellie was happy just staying by his side, occasionally trying to childishly bother him away from the story.
Mell would sigh at her exasperatedly, of course, but he’d never get angry at her.
Mell had never been able to truly stay angry at her for long.
Because he knew it’d hurt Nellie, and Mell could never hurt Nellie.
The door suddenly opened.
It took some time for Nellie to truly realize it; but even then she didn’t stray her attention away from her beloved brother. She wanted to give all of her attention to him and only him.
The person sat next to her bed. She had long, pretty blond hair, and a long time ago she probably would’ve been beautiful, but now she only looked ashed and exhausted.
It took a long time for Nellie to realize that this was her mother.
When was the last time Nellie had spoken to her mother?
“My darling, can you hear me?”
Her voice felt barely audible, like a dream’s whisper. A complete shadow from what her mother’s gentle voice used to sound like.
There was a sigh, some awkward gesture. A larger hand grabbing hers, holding her, caressing her skin.
“I know I haven’t come to see you in a long time… I apologize. I have been a very terrible mother. I…”
Fingers tightened their grip on hers, but Nellie couldn’t bother to care about it.
Nothing and no one could reach her, not anymore.
Only her dearest brother stuck in the dream mattered.
“Nellie, honey, I’m sorry. None of this would’ve happened if your father and I had not… made so many mistakes and actually paid attention to you. But I…” A pause; a shaky breath. “Please, my darling, it is not too late. We can still fix this. You can still… you can still come back to us. Please? Nellie?”
It sounded like someone was begging desperately, but it barely registered to Nellie.
The voice slowly faded away in a corner of her consciousness, words stopping making sense.
She looked away from her brother, and instead stared straight in front of her.
The mirror she’d gotten as a gift at five years old stood there, uncovered.
Her reflection smiled back at her, and she giggled.
