Protest
The wedding was tonight. Melliene’s wedding.
Aelza glanced down at her biceps and gave them an absent flex, wondering if she could knock the shitstain part out of Deo’s brain and make the rest of him okay if she just punched his temple hard enough. It wasn’t much, but it was a plan even if she had no intention of even being AT the wedding to do it. She didn’t have a dress and she didn’t have the heart to sit there in silence and watch.
She told herself it went beyond her own feelings for Melliene, and it did, but with every image that flashed through her mind of the dancer and bard, smiling with her newborn child, Aelza was there besides her. Smiling with her, something she’d been doing far too infrequently these days. The images didn’t always include child either. Sometime she was there feeling the kick of an excited baby on her cheek through Mel’s stomach, or dancing with her in a field - where, she was never certain - after her pregnancy was over.
But, at the end of the day and after tonight probably forever, they were just that. Images. Dreams. She couldn’t go to the wedding of her friend, because it wasn’t a wedding. It was an act and a dangerous one that Aelza knew she wouldn’t be able to keep silent about if she went. She’d stand up and yell, she’d stab someone, throw something... it wouldn’t end well. She’d risk hurting Mel’s feelings to not hurt her permanently.
It still never sat right with her. With every image of her and Melliene laughing, dancing, drinking that floated into her mind, there were two of a dagger through her neck or her heart, poison being slipping into a drink, sheets wrapped tightly around her delicate neck, always with Deo behind them giving that same predatory, charming smile to Aelza as she watched in her nightmares, helpless and screaming.
Killing Deo - he suspected nothing, it would be a relatively easy task to run him through with a broadsword at a bar - would be an easy task. But she couldn’t. And it was killing her, instead.
Mentions: roseofpyrewood deo-black