✏ ᴏᴏ3 (ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ) | ᴛʜᴇsᴇ sᴛᴏʀɪᴇs ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ғᴜʟʟʏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ

[revolter]

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

[ she reads the words with a clear voice that can only be described as enthusiastic, she found them clever, exciting, as only a true lover of literature may think of words. ]

Is there a limit to the number of books we're allowed to burrow from the library at a given time? I wasn't sure and I couldn't find someone to ask.

If anyone knows where there are books that are written in other languages, I'd like to talk to them, please. I found study books but not novels. I want to practice my Russian.

Comments

[heloise]

[ Oh honey, she wishes she can rush there and draw her into a hug now. ]

Sometimes we lie to keep others from worrying... You need not apologize.

I told you once that only fools would see your intelligence as anything but good. Special. Never be ashamed of it or let others tell you differently.

[revolter]

It's just that the other kids are very happy. Their parents come to school pick them up at the end of the day and they kiss their cheeks and they ask them how was their day. Sometimes, I walk home and I pretend that I'm the same. Or I read my books and I pretend that I'm in them, have you ever done that? Pretended that you're on a ship to Africa or...or that you're in a jungle! And it's vast and green and you can ride on an elephant.

Sometimes it helps. I don't know, sometimes I like to do that. I pretend the people in the book tell me I'm wonderful and not a liar or a useless worm. I'm nothing like my family.

[ she sighs. A long suffering sound that might sound odd on a child. ]

My dad calls me Malinda. Sometimes. When he forgets it's Matilda.

[heloise]

I have... sometimes, as a princess of a faraway land but not because I love my family any less.

[ It just breaks her heart when she could hardly imagine anyone not loving one's own child, apathy is worse. What a waste. ]

What horrible fools your parents are.

If you were mine-- [ she hesitates, can she say such things? ] I would call you Matilda, like a prayer, and kiss your hands and feet before you go to this school, so you would remember always that you are loved.

[revolter]

Because it was your dream, your imagination.

[ she falls silent for a moment. Matilda is a clever child but she was always a longing child as well. If she could, she'd hug Lucrezia around the waist for being so good to her. ]

You would be a very good mother. The kind they write about in books. The kind that are just like wishes. Like a good wish.

[heloise]

[ Her chest aches and she can hardly speak for a moment. All the girl might hear is her attempt to breath more calmly so she would not frighten her. Her parents should hang, she should flay them alive for their cruelty.

She would be a good mother if she can only keep her children and call them hers. Her voice is heavy when she speaks, hushed. ]

If this good wish is yours, I would grant it.

[revolter]

[ Matilda is not seven and she learns three languages, she's not seven and she read Pride and Prejudice and Heart of Darkness and Crime and Punishment. She's not seven and she can move things with her eyes as she pleases.

She's not like any other but in this, she's exactly like every child. Wants what every child wants before anything else, only she wants it much more direly for she never had it.

Something that she only read of, only saw from afar, loving families, something warm and wonderful and hers. ]

It'll be the first wish I ever had to come true.

[heloise]

[ It is hard to smile when she is still imagining how else her parents had hurt her, with words and otherwise. She understands abuse and how it feels shameful, as if one is somehow deserving of the pain because of something innate.

But she tries to, if only so Matilda can hear it in her voice. ]

Then I would call you mine to any who asks and I would love you as a mother should. And I will always call you Matilda.

Malinda has such a terrible ring to it.

[revolter]

It's a stupid name, it doesn't even have meaning. Matilda has. Do you know? I don't think my parents even realized it. It means strength and might. I'm rather certain they didn't, because it meant it in Old German and my parents don't even speak modern German. And I'm not sure it fits me yet, I am only six and a half.

[ but then she understands that this is not a game of pretend and not her imagination. ]

I would as well. I will love you more than I ever loved any book I read. More than the characters loved their parents in them. Because they're not real.

[heloise]

I know. I called you Forzina once, do you remember? Age says nothing of might.

[ The declaration is met with a bashful chuckle though, because she knows what it is to love stories and wish they were more real. But she probably never wished as hard as Matilda did. ]

And to fulfill my end of the promise, I must first meet you to hold you and kiss your hand, do I not?

[revolter]

I think that's how it is usually done.

[ there's a smile in her voice. ]

[heloise]

[ She returns that with a giggle, and a rustle as she hops to her feet. ]

Where must I go to find you?

[revolter]

I'll go down, you shouldn't - it's on the seventh floor but I can walk. I don't mind.

[ carefully, so very carefully, to not trouble her lest she change her mind. ]

[heloise]

It will take more than just stairs to find me, but did you not want to be picked up? I can do that now.

[revolter]

Yes.

[ well ok perhaps she's excited. ]

Yes I did. I do. It's the seventh floor, and it is room seven one three. Which, I suppose, is really room seven hundred and thirteen.

[heloise]

Seven hundred thirteen. I will be there soon.

[ Hopefully that excitement holds up for the thirty minutes it takes her to finally reach her door from the mansion just on the outskirts of town. To be fair, Lucrezia didn't even make her wait on purpose, only the journey wasn't so short.

She still has her dark blue cloak on over her red dress, the hood pushed down once she knocks on the door with a little bag in her hand. ]

[revolter]

[ It does, though nervousness makes its way in there. Matilda tidies the one dress she has, a simple cotton one of baby blue, she combs her hair and she ties the red ribbon on the crown of her hair. Then she tidies her room, waves her fingers to make papers return to their places, books to settle into the neat piles they were before she started reading.

Finally she opens the door, and stares.

She's beautiful. Like a painting in one of her books, all golden hair and delicate face and Matilda looks at her, tries to convince herself this all isn't a dream or her imagination running out of control.

She looks at her for a moment and then another before she rushes to hug her around the waist. ]

[heloise]

[ The greeting is met with laughter, a glad one. For a moment she was concerned that Matilda might be intimidated or change her mind. She strokes her head gently before dropping to her knees to give her a proper hug, wrapping her arms gently around the little girl and nuzzling her nose against her hair. ]

You will never feel alone again. I promise.

[revolter]

[ It's beyond Matilda to adjust herself to this sort of happiness. She knows happiness from when she's reading her books or talks with Miss Honey, but this is something else. Something about the promise and Lucrezia's arms around her and the warmth of her embrace and she tightens her hold just a bit. ]

Because I'll have you. And you'll have me.

[heloise]

[ She chuckles, the sound reverberating through her body, and squeezes the girl tight before she pulls back enough to look at her face. What a sweetest one it is. She leans in to place a lingering kiss on her brow, to make sure she remembers it. ]

Precisely.

[revolter]

And I promise, I'll be very good. I'll be as good as I can be. As good as people I read about.

[ a hum. ]

Like you.

[heloise]

[ Oh sweet child, if you only knew. The comment makes her hesitate, wondering if her hands on the girl would taint her too, or worse, bring harm and death into her life. But Lucrezia is selfish enough to still want her, so she just closes her eyes and rest her forehead against Matilda's, hands placed against her tiny cheeks. ]

You are better than me already. [ She opens her eyes to smile. ] Far better. I speak no Russian!

[revolter]

You speak Italian!

[ she laughs, so they're even. There is quite a lot to this woman, even Matilda can see, some sadness beneath all the beauty and the sweetness. Much like Miss Honey and Matilda loves them both dearly, wants them both happy. ]

You're beautiful. You fit this castle.

[heloise]

You will too, very shortly.

[ She leans in to place another quick kiss on her cheek at the compliment, moving to show her the pouch made of red velvet. ]

I fit another castle better. A mansion. I will show you one day, but first, this is for you.

[revolter]

What is it?

[ she looks down at it, lifts a hand to touch the fabric. It's like nothing she had ever seen. ]

For me?

[heloise]

[ Inside is a small porcelain doll with movable arms and legs, with a tin armor instead of a dress. ]

Jeanne D'Arc. Another mighty woman.