The sound of her mother’s voice sent her stomach in circles. It was that tone. The tone that said, “We need to talk about something serious.” Had she done something wrong? What could her mother complain about now? Had one of her friends said something to them, something they didn’t approve of? These questions plagued her every time that tone came out, which happened quite frequently now that she was a teenager.
Slowly, Vaharis closed the book she’d been reading, hesitantly responding, “I’m in my room, alma. What’s going on?”
Her mother came in, a fake smile on her lips. A smile that dropped Vaharis’s stomach even further into her gut. A drop that sunk so low as her mother closed the door behind her, Vaharis thought she’d be ill.
“I just want to talk to you for a second, is that okay?” Her mother asked as she sat down on the end of Vaharis’s bed.
“Sure,” Vaharis said as nonchalantly as she could, though she truthfully wanted nothing more than to break through her window and never look back. Her fight-or-flight response hit her harder than an ash storm in the valley. “What’s up?”
“I’ve been hearing from the other mothers about some of your relationships with your friends.” Her mother’s brows furrow in concern. “I’ve been hearing about your relationships with some females and I’m simply concerned that-”
Vaharis scoffed and cut her mother off, “What, that I’d turn into one of my brothers and betray the family? Alma, I’m not like them. I’d never turn my back on you or ata.”
Her mother didn’t seem completely convinced, and Vaharis wasn’t sure she could blame her. Having lost two of her sons already, she was surely afraid of losing her daughter as well. Not to mention, having three children abandon Clan Selos from the same parents... Ravi and Durai had already left a permanent stain on the family name. Vaharis would be damned if she did the same.
“I’m just concerned,” her mother continued, as if she hadn’t heard or understood a word Vaharis had said, “that you’ll pick one of them. Or that they’ll change your mindset and turn you against us. I want you to be careful.”
“Mama,” Vaharis insisted, “I promise. I’m fine. I’ll never hurt you or papa. You’re my parents, I couldn’t hurt you like that.”
But truthfully, she felt trapped. The expectations to remain pure, to be obedient, to listen and learn, to stay quiet and absorb information at all times, to stay loyal to the Clan and House even when she didn’t think they were right. House Redoran was the right House. The Clan’s reputation was what mattered in the long run. Help fix the Clan’s reputation, and she’d go down in history with the rest of them, just as their legendary Haravin had.
Despite all that, she wanted freedom to be herself. Who her parents saw and who she wanted to be were two very different things. However, how her parents saw her was all that mattered at the end of the day. They were her loving parents. They gave her food, water, shelter, and everything she could have ever asked for - toys, games, statues, clothes, weapons. She asked, and they gave. To turn away from them after they had done so much for her... how could she even dare to think of it?
You have it nice. They always told her that. That she was lucky. She’d be a fool to deny it - she wasn’t out on the streets, wandering helplessly like so many others. She wasn’t a savage Ashlander, either. She was blessed. Any time there were clothes on her floor, they’d threaten to take them away. “I don’t buy you nice things to have you keep them on the floor,” her father would say. Her father didn’t care that she was hardly older than a toddler whose only thoughts were on play and not on responsibility. “I don’t work hard for you to have nice things and then treat them like crap.”
It was only fair, she figured. They treated her well. She had to listen to them. That’s what the rule was. They spoke, she listened. They commanded, she obeyed. It was as simple and as complicated as that.
“These friends aren’t good for you, Vaharis,” her mother said, interrupting her own internal monologue. “I think you’d be better off with other people...”
Vaharis clenched her jaw and kept quiet. She liked her friends. They were her freedom. They encouraged her to be strong, to continue to strive to be better for herself and not for anyone else. “You don’t understand, mama. They treat me well. I like them.”
“I think they’re holding you back from greater things, though.”
At this point, Vaharis couldn’t even look at her mother. She didn’t want to see her face. She didn’t believe her friends were holding her back - she loved them all and they supported her just as she supported them. What was so wrong with that?
“I don’t agree with you,” Vaharis said steadily, “But I see where you’re coming from.”
Friends encouraged free thought. Her parents didn’t like that concept. Of course she saw where her parents were coming from.
She didn’t like that they treated her like she had to listen to their every word. Like she couldn’t have thought of her own.
There was a part of her that felt she had to listen to them. That she was a traitor if she didn’t - but there was a part of her that wanted to demand her own freedom.
What did she listen to? Her parents or her heart?
“Just think about it, okay? I only want what’s best for you.” Her mother smiled and patted her knee, then walked out.
Angry, hurt, and torn, Vaharis opened her book back up and tried to return to her reading.
You’ll do us proud one day, Vaharis. You’re already climbing the ranks so fast. I have no doubt one day you’ll lead your own group of men into battle. Fighting the Thalmor will be easy for you...
That’s what was said.
What she heard was very different.
You’re still not good enough. You still have work to do. You’re not there yet. Your hard work isn’t enough. Keep trying, maybe you’ll get there. Don’t disappoint me and your family. We’ve waited for a strong warrior like you, don’t fail us...
Vaharis lowered her head, pressing her palms into her temples. The urge to pick up her tankard of mead and throw it against the wall was so strong, she wasn’t sure how she resisted doing so.
Do not cry over this, Vaharis...
Her nails were gripping her hair, digging into her scalp. Anything to keep her from absolutely launching herself into a pacing fit. Her parents would no doubt question the sudden sound of pounding footsteps coming from her bedroom. Then they would ask her what was wrong, and if she dared express her concerns, the pressure, her thoughts...
The already-present restrictions would increase. Anything for them to keep their precious daughter at home, anything to keep her from running off like her older brothers.
You bastards... you’re the reason they’re like this. So hard on me... you’re at fault. You both are. Had you not left...
Had you not left, I never would’ve been born.
Vaharis sucked in a breath through her teeth and held it as the force of the truth hit her once again. Is that really what she was? A pawn? Just someone for her parents - her father - to live vicariously through? Was that really all she was.
You should be grateful. You have a life. You can live it. You have a home, a roof over your head. You get food. A bed to sleep in. And any weapon you could ever ask for. Two parents who love you. There’s nothing to complain about.
She exhaled finally as her throat began to hurt from the breath she’d been holding. What was she complaining about? She had it good. Spoiled, even, as her parents did everything they could to keep her happy.
While still keeping her on track for the life they wanted her to live. While still encouraging her to be the next Selos legend.
I am nothing. I will be a name in a history book, if I’m lucky.
I won’t be known as me. I will be known as a member of the Selos clan, nothing more.
Olyvne frowned at Vaharis, who was lounging drunkenly in a comfortable chair on the other side of the room, a half-finished drink tilting in her hands. Vaharis’s cheeks were painted red as her eyes and she had already taken her shirt off long ago to walk around topless from the warmth of the alcohol in her system.
“What do you mean?”
Vaharis laughed bitterly and set the drink down on her dresser before it could spill out onto the floor as Olyvne had expected it to do. “You heard me! I asked why I bother!”
Olyvne waited patiently for Vaharis to actually explain rather than continue to snap at her.
Finally, Vaharis explained, “No one cares, Oly. No matter what I do. I could rewrite history at this point and no one would even congratulate me on my work. My name would go in one ear and out the other.” Vaharis put her hands on her chest and leaned forward. “I think I’m pretty great sometimes, you know! I’m not bad! I work really hard to be good at what I do!” She threw herself back into the chair and leaned her head up, arms stretched out to her sides. “But no one cares to say, ‘Hey, Vaharis, great job today, you did really good.’ Is that so complicated? I put my ass into this shit, Oly! Every damn day! I try so hard...”
A cringe of sympathy went through Olyvne. Vaharis was constantly left feeling unrecognized for her hard work - and to be fair, she often times was. Her parents only saw the accomplishments and not the person doing them. They wanted more and more from her. Vaharis seemed more like a trophy to them at times than a person.
Vaharis laughed bitterly. “And even you! You sit there and you listen, but you never say anything to me. You or anyone else, the people I call friends.”
“Vaharis-”
“Don’t, Oly!” Vaharis made a sweeping motion with her arm to cut Olyvne off. “You, Nireli, Geron, Strav, Tethis... none of you ever tell me I’ve done good. No pat on the back. No congratulatory hug. No recognition.”
Olyvne ground her teeth. Not because Vaharis was wrong, but because Vaharis was right. None of them wasted the effort on saying such things anymore because it seemed pointless. Vaharis always did good, and there were times she knew it as well as the rest of them - but then there were times like this when Vaharis’s self-worth took a turn and spiraled towards the center of Mundas.
Lowering herself in her chair, Vaharis sighed. “There are some days I just want to quit.”
“Vaharis, no,” Olyvne said gently, or so she tried. “You can’t. We all need you. We need your help with training, we need you to fight with us.”
“Why do I bother?” Vaharis reiterated. “No one cares. I’d bet I could leave tomorrow like my two useless brothers and no one would blink an eye.”
“That’s not true-”
“Just shut up, Oly.” Vaharis pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just shut up and do your studies and leave me be.”
Silence stretched between them for quite some time while Olyvne tried to figure out what to say.
“Vaharis, for the record... I think you’re great.”
Vaharis scoffed. “It’s too late, Oly. You made your point whether you wanted to or not.”
