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Despite her insecurities, Danae of Stravos considered herself to be a ‘proud’ girl. She had to be. No one could bear the weight of such a grand name and legacy without some form of haughtiness bubbling beneath the surface. She was confident in her abilities and unafraid to challenge anyone who thought differently. That’s how sure she was of herself. But there was one thing that Danae could never take pride in, no matter how hard she tried.
Her hair.
It had once been her shining glory. Then it had been a long cascading wave of dark locks reaching down to the small of her back. She didn’t understand during those days how much her hair had meant to her. Not when she was normally so annoyed by it that her signature style of keeping it within a singular braid was done out of sheer practicality. Now that she had lost it… she truly understood what it had meant to her. That long braid had been her sense of security. Her marker of the easy life she lived as the daughter of the richest man in Greece. It was a symbol of comfort and stability. Now it was gone. Roughly cut away by the same calloused hands that had given the testimony that had sealed her family’s fate at the senate meeting. Lukos had not cared about the damage he had done, didn’t understand how in exposing the girl to her first brush with death and solidifying her family’s loss of nobility; he had damaged her beyond repair without leaving a single mark on her.
Hair grew back. The mental strength did not.
Danae knew this much to be true just by looking in the mirror. In the past two months, a full inch of new growth had lengthened the mangled mess that had been left behind. That paired with the careful maintenance overseen by her mother had culminated in the dark mop being almost long enough to reach the top of her shoulders again. It was a long way away from what Danae used to have, but it was well on its way to being normal again. Her mother had reassured her that such a thing would happen, despite Danae’s doubts, but with the proof staring her right in the face; it was hard for the girl not to put hope into the notion of time being able to heal the mental scars she bore. She was too afraid of being let down and once again finding herself in that dark place marked by fear and shame.
So, even though it wasn’t needed anymore, Danae still took the time every morning to wrap her hair up into the elaborate headpieces that Circenia had found for her. They had been necessary for the beginning of her recovery to help the Stravos save face and not have the fact that their youngest had been attacked on full display, but Danae had grown so comfortable in the notion of pretending that her long braid was still tucked under the piles of fabric that she was loathed to part from them. Just like how her mother was not eager to end these weekly sessions that Danae had grown to secretly love.
At first, meeting with her mother so that the older woman could tend to the mane of her wild child had been necessary with Danae lacking the skills to maintain the new style. It had been Circenia who had taught Danae how to carefully wrap the fabric around her head and where to stick the pins so that it wouldn’t slip. It had also been the Stravos’s matriarch’s hands who had personally trimmed the jagged edges and giving the style the illusion of being Danae’s choice. The girl was extremely grateful for her mother’s careful care, even though she struggled to admit as much. She was sure her mother could tell though, especially as Danae never did quite put up much of a fuss when it was time for her mother to check on her hair’s regrowth.
That hadn’t changed as the early dawn light shone over Athenia, rousing the Stravos household from their slumber. Danae was utterly exhausted as she moved about the room, trying to make herself somewhat presentable before going to meet her mother. Her eyelids pulled down somewhat as they begged for more sleep, but Danae pushed past it to dress in a drab brown chiton. She didn’t bother with any sort of accessories or even so much as pulling a comb through her hair. She figured that she didn’t need to bother will all that nonsense just yet. Not when she was only traveling down the hallway this morning.
Not wanting to keep her mother waiting, Danae quietly made her way out of her room and towards the master bedroom that her parents shared. Keikelius was normally gone by this point. (Though whether it was because he wanted to get a head start on the day’s matters or if Circe kicked him out, Danae didn’t know.) So, as she announced her arrival with a light knock on the door, she was not surprised to see that it was just her mother in the chamber.
With this sort of thing being routine for the pair now, Danae didn’t need to wait for her mother to respond before entering the room. The girl managed to croak out a greeting, though as she took a seat at the ornate vanity in the room. “ Good morning.”
As she waited for Circenia to make her way over as well, Danae couldn’t help, but glance at her reflection in the various mirrors in the room. She couldn’t meet her own gaze though, due in part to the deep sense of shame that came from seeing how light her hair was. It was somewhat worse thanks to the slightly unkempt state brought on by sleep. That made it actually look like something she should be ashamed of. Hopefully, her mother wouldn’t gripe too much about its current state...
So, to not let her lack of inner confidence get to her, Danae turned her gaze to the various vials and containers on her mother’s vanity. As she reached out for one filled with some sort of rosy powder, her mind flashed back to one of the first times she had been at this vanity. She was little. Little enough that she could sit on the counter as Chara sat in the plush chair and Circe hovered behind her; teaching her how to properly apply the makeup that would define the elder Stravos daughter’s adult life. Danae distinctively remembered playing with an empty container, pretending to follow along as a thirteen-year-old Chara struggled at with the makeup brush. That was a day that had been marked by laughter and promises from Circe that Danae would get her turn too, one day, before taking the smallest amount of blush and applying it to the child’s cheeks; just to make the girl feel as if she was involved in the lesson.
Little did they know that soon enough Danae’s stubbornness would shine through, making her having her own lessons an impossibility.
Danae smirked at the memory. That had been a happy day, so much so that even just the sheer memory of it was enough to put the girl at ease. All thoughts of shame were chased away as a peaceful feeling settled over her, matched in part by the gratitude that her mother was willing to do this for her daughter. To have her be willing to pamper Danny like she was that little child again who was eager to sit on the vanity counter and watch the women in her life get ready. A small sense of regret crept in though as Danae curiously looked at the powder and realized she didn’t know quite what it was for. That was something she should have learned long ago, but never did.
To satisfy this curiosity, Danae turned back to her mother while holding the powder and asked with the slightest hint of embarrassment poking through, “ What is this? Blush, right?” She looked quizzically at the woman, completely unfazed by the fact that questions like this were so out of character for Danae, but her being this calm was just as strange too. It was weird, but also comforting at the same time. It felt nice and strangely, she didn’t want to let it go. Like this was how things were supposed to be, tension free and peaceful.
There still was a chance for this sort of thing, wasn’t there?
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Dec 11, 2019 22:52:47 GMT
Posted In Just Like You on Dec 11, 2019 22:52:47 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
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Despite her insecurities, Danae of Stravos considered herself to be a ‘proud’ girl. She had to be. No one could bear the weight of such a grand name and legacy without some form of haughtiness bubbling beneath the surface. She was confident in her abilities and unafraid to challenge anyone who thought differently. That’s how sure she was of herself. But there was one thing that Danae could never take pride in, no matter how hard she tried.
Her hair.
It had once been her shining glory. Then it had been a long cascading wave of dark locks reaching down to the small of her back. She didn’t understand during those days how much her hair had meant to her. Not when she was normally so annoyed by it that her signature style of keeping it within a singular braid was done out of sheer practicality. Now that she had lost it… she truly understood what it had meant to her. That long braid had been her sense of security. Her marker of the easy life she lived as the daughter of the richest man in Greece. It was a symbol of comfort and stability. Now it was gone. Roughly cut away by the same calloused hands that had given the testimony that had sealed her family’s fate at the senate meeting. Lukos had not cared about the damage he had done, didn’t understand how in exposing the girl to her first brush with death and solidifying her family’s loss of nobility; he had damaged her beyond repair without leaving a single mark on her.
Hair grew back. The mental strength did not.
Danae knew this much to be true just by looking in the mirror. In the past two months, a full inch of new growth had lengthened the mangled mess that had been left behind. That paired with the careful maintenance overseen by her mother had culminated in the dark mop being almost long enough to reach the top of her shoulders again. It was a long way away from what Danae used to have, but it was well on its way to being normal again. Her mother had reassured her that such a thing would happen, despite Danae’s doubts, but with the proof staring her right in the face; it was hard for the girl not to put hope into the notion of time being able to heal the mental scars she bore. She was too afraid of being let down and once again finding herself in that dark place marked by fear and shame.
So, even though it wasn’t needed anymore, Danae still took the time every morning to wrap her hair up into the elaborate headpieces that Circenia had found for her. They had been necessary for the beginning of her recovery to help the Stravos save face and not have the fact that their youngest had been attacked on full display, but Danae had grown so comfortable in the notion of pretending that her long braid was still tucked under the piles of fabric that she was loathed to part from them. Just like how her mother was not eager to end these weekly sessions that Danae had grown to secretly love.
At first, meeting with her mother so that the older woman could tend to the mane of her wild child had been necessary with Danae lacking the skills to maintain the new style. It had been Circenia who had taught Danae how to carefully wrap the fabric around her head and where to stick the pins so that it wouldn’t slip. It had also been the Stravos’s matriarch’s hands who had personally trimmed the jagged edges and giving the style the illusion of being Danae’s choice. The girl was extremely grateful for her mother’s careful care, even though she struggled to admit as much. She was sure her mother could tell though, especially as Danae never did quite put up much of a fuss when it was time for her mother to check on her hair’s regrowth.
That hadn’t changed as the early dawn light shone over Athenia, rousing the Stravos household from their slumber. Danae was utterly exhausted as she moved about the room, trying to make herself somewhat presentable before going to meet her mother. Her eyelids pulled down somewhat as they begged for more sleep, but Danae pushed past it to dress in a drab brown chiton. She didn’t bother with any sort of accessories or even so much as pulling a comb through her hair. She figured that she didn’t need to bother will all that nonsense just yet. Not when she was only traveling down the hallway this morning.
Not wanting to keep her mother waiting, Danae quietly made her way out of her room and towards the master bedroom that her parents shared. Keikelius was normally gone by this point. (Though whether it was because he wanted to get a head start on the day’s matters or if Circe kicked him out, Danae didn’t know.) So, as she announced her arrival with a light knock on the door, she was not surprised to see that it was just her mother in the chamber.
With this sort of thing being routine for the pair now, Danae didn’t need to wait for her mother to respond before entering the room. The girl managed to croak out a greeting, though as she took a seat at the ornate vanity in the room. “ Good morning.”
As she waited for Circenia to make her way over as well, Danae couldn’t help, but glance at her reflection in the various mirrors in the room. She couldn’t meet her own gaze though, due in part to the deep sense of shame that came from seeing how light her hair was. It was somewhat worse thanks to the slightly unkempt state brought on by sleep. That made it actually look like something she should be ashamed of. Hopefully, her mother wouldn’t gripe too much about its current state...
So, to not let her lack of inner confidence get to her, Danae turned her gaze to the various vials and containers on her mother’s vanity. As she reached out for one filled with some sort of rosy powder, her mind flashed back to one of the first times she had been at this vanity. She was little. Little enough that she could sit on the counter as Chara sat in the plush chair and Circe hovered behind her; teaching her how to properly apply the makeup that would define the elder Stravos daughter’s adult life. Danae distinctively remembered playing with an empty container, pretending to follow along as a thirteen-year-old Chara struggled at with the makeup brush. That was a day that had been marked by laughter and promises from Circe that Danae would get her turn too, one day, before taking the smallest amount of blush and applying it to the child’s cheeks; just to make the girl feel as if she was involved in the lesson.
Little did they know that soon enough Danae’s stubbornness would shine through, making her having her own lessons an impossibility.
Danae smirked at the memory. That had been a happy day, so much so that even just the sheer memory of it was enough to put the girl at ease. All thoughts of shame were chased away as a peaceful feeling settled over her, matched in part by the gratitude that her mother was willing to do this for her daughter. To have her be willing to pamper Danny like she was that little child again who was eager to sit on the vanity counter and watch the women in her life get ready. A small sense of regret crept in though as Danae curiously looked at the powder and realized she didn’t know quite what it was for. That was something she should have learned long ago, but never did.
To satisfy this curiosity, Danae turned back to her mother while holding the powder and asked with the slightest hint of embarrassment poking through, “ What is this? Blush, right?” She looked quizzically at the woman, completely unfazed by the fact that questions like this were so out of character for Danae, but her being this calm was just as strange too. It was weird, but also comforting at the same time. It felt nice and strangely, she didn’t want to let it go. Like this was how things were supposed to be, tension free and peaceful.
There still was a chance for this sort of thing, wasn’t there?
Despite her insecurities, Danae of Stravos considered herself to be a ‘proud’ girl. She had to be. No one could bear the weight of such a grand name and legacy without some form of haughtiness bubbling beneath the surface. She was confident in her abilities and unafraid to challenge anyone who thought differently. That’s how sure she was of herself. But there was one thing that Danae could never take pride in, no matter how hard she tried.
Her hair.
It had once been her shining glory. Then it had been a long cascading wave of dark locks reaching down to the small of her back. She didn’t understand during those days how much her hair had meant to her. Not when she was normally so annoyed by it that her signature style of keeping it within a singular braid was done out of sheer practicality. Now that she had lost it… she truly understood what it had meant to her. That long braid had been her sense of security. Her marker of the easy life she lived as the daughter of the richest man in Greece. It was a symbol of comfort and stability. Now it was gone. Roughly cut away by the same calloused hands that had given the testimony that had sealed her family’s fate at the senate meeting. Lukos had not cared about the damage he had done, didn’t understand how in exposing the girl to her first brush with death and solidifying her family’s loss of nobility; he had damaged her beyond repair without leaving a single mark on her.
Hair grew back. The mental strength did not.
Danae knew this much to be true just by looking in the mirror. In the past two months, a full inch of new growth had lengthened the mangled mess that had been left behind. That paired with the careful maintenance overseen by her mother had culminated in the dark mop being almost long enough to reach the top of her shoulders again. It was a long way away from what Danae used to have, but it was well on its way to being normal again. Her mother had reassured her that such a thing would happen, despite Danae’s doubts, but with the proof staring her right in the face; it was hard for the girl not to put hope into the notion of time being able to heal the mental scars she bore. She was too afraid of being let down and once again finding herself in that dark place marked by fear and shame.
So, even though it wasn’t needed anymore, Danae still took the time every morning to wrap her hair up into the elaborate headpieces that Circenia had found for her. They had been necessary for the beginning of her recovery to help the Stravos save face and not have the fact that their youngest had been attacked on full display, but Danae had grown so comfortable in the notion of pretending that her long braid was still tucked under the piles of fabric that she was loathed to part from them. Just like how her mother was not eager to end these weekly sessions that Danae had grown to secretly love.
At first, meeting with her mother so that the older woman could tend to the mane of her wild child had been necessary with Danae lacking the skills to maintain the new style. It had been Circenia who had taught Danae how to carefully wrap the fabric around her head and where to stick the pins so that it wouldn’t slip. It had also been the Stravos’s matriarch’s hands who had personally trimmed the jagged edges and giving the style the illusion of being Danae’s choice. The girl was extremely grateful for her mother’s careful care, even though she struggled to admit as much. She was sure her mother could tell though, especially as Danae never did quite put up much of a fuss when it was time for her mother to check on her hair’s regrowth.
That hadn’t changed as the early dawn light shone over Athenia, rousing the Stravos household from their slumber. Danae was utterly exhausted as she moved about the room, trying to make herself somewhat presentable before going to meet her mother. Her eyelids pulled down somewhat as they begged for more sleep, but Danae pushed past it to dress in a drab brown chiton. She didn’t bother with any sort of accessories or even so much as pulling a comb through her hair. She figured that she didn’t need to bother will all that nonsense just yet. Not when she was only traveling down the hallway this morning.
Not wanting to keep her mother waiting, Danae quietly made her way out of her room and towards the master bedroom that her parents shared. Keikelius was normally gone by this point. (Though whether it was because he wanted to get a head start on the day’s matters or if Circe kicked him out, Danae didn’t know.) So, as she announced her arrival with a light knock on the door, she was not surprised to see that it was just her mother in the chamber.
With this sort of thing being routine for the pair now, Danae didn’t need to wait for her mother to respond before entering the room. The girl managed to croak out a greeting, though as she took a seat at the ornate vanity in the room. “ Good morning.”
As she waited for Circenia to make her way over as well, Danae couldn’t help, but glance at her reflection in the various mirrors in the room. She couldn’t meet her own gaze though, due in part to the deep sense of shame that came from seeing how light her hair was. It was somewhat worse thanks to the slightly unkempt state brought on by sleep. That made it actually look like something she should be ashamed of. Hopefully, her mother wouldn’t gripe too much about its current state...
So, to not let her lack of inner confidence get to her, Danae turned her gaze to the various vials and containers on her mother’s vanity. As she reached out for one filled with some sort of rosy powder, her mind flashed back to one of the first times she had been at this vanity. She was little. Little enough that she could sit on the counter as Chara sat in the plush chair and Circe hovered behind her; teaching her how to properly apply the makeup that would define the elder Stravos daughter’s adult life. Danae distinctively remembered playing with an empty container, pretending to follow along as a thirteen-year-old Chara struggled at with the makeup brush. That was a day that had been marked by laughter and promises from Circe that Danae would get her turn too, one day, before taking the smallest amount of blush and applying it to the child’s cheeks; just to make the girl feel as if she was involved in the lesson.
Little did they know that soon enough Danae’s stubbornness would shine through, making her having her own lessons an impossibility.
Danae smirked at the memory. That had been a happy day, so much so that even just the sheer memory of it was enough to put the girl at ease. All thoughts of shame were chased away as a peaceful feeling settled over her, matched in part by the gratitude that her mother was willing to do this for her daughter. To have her be willing to pamper Danny like she was that little child again who was eager to sit on the vanity counter and watch the women in her life get ready. A small sense of regret crept in though as Danae curiously looked at the powder and realized she didn’t know quite what it was for. That was something she should have learned long ago, but never did.
To satisfy this curiosity, Danae turned back to her mother while holding the powder and asked with the slightest hint of embarrassment poking through, “ What is this? Blush, right?” She looked quizzically at the woman, completely unfazed by the fact that questions like this were so out of character for Danae, but her being this calm was just as strange too. It was weird, but also comforting at the same time. It felt nice and strangely, she didn’t want to let it go. Like this was how things were supposed to be, tension free and peaceful.
There still was a chance for this sort of thing, wasn’t there?
Though Circenia of Stravos would happily have wrung the neck of the man who attacked her daughter, she also felt an odd measure of gratitude toward the anonymous figure who’d unwittingly brought the princess closer to her youngest child. She and Danae were often at odds, especially as her daughter had entered puberty. It seemed no matter the words Circenia spoke to her, they were the wrong ones, and any attempts to bridge the gap between them were pushed away with both hands. But ever since the girl’s mysterious attack…
Things were different.
It had all started with a seemingly innocuous request on Danae’s part for Circenia to trim her hair. Seeing the wreckage of the girl’s once beautiful dark locks had riled the proud mother’s anger something fierce, but the princess managed to keep herself under control. A show of temper, no matter that it wasn’t directed at Danae, might drive her daughter away nearly as soon as she’d pulled her in. Her youngest reminded her of a cat in that way—proud and aloof, selective with her affection, and apt to run off if it was returned too strongly. It was a delicate line she would have to walk, but Circenia would cheerfully walk it if it meant she got to steal a few hours with her oft estranged child.
Week after week, Danae kept returning so that Circenia could tend to her, teaching the girl how to wrap the elaborate scarves that hid the hastily shorn locks from the gossiping eyes of the world. No doubt they wondered why it was that the youngest Stravos had suddenly taken to a more feminine fashion like this, but let them talk. Better that they speculate about the possibilities than know the truth. Especially when she still didn’t know the full truth.
But perhaps she could gain Danae’s trust enough for her to talk to her. Perhaps there was still the chance to set such a dreadful wrong to rights.
On this particular morning, Circenia awaited her daughter eagerly, looking up with a smile when the girl entered the room. “Good morning, Danae,” she replied warmly, standing and gesturing for her daughter to take her accustomed seat at the vanity. “Did you sleep well?”
Standing behind her, she gently ran her fingers through the short waves that framed Danae’s face, checking on the ends to ensure they were growing out evenly. While her daughter sat calmly under her hands, she did her best to hide a smile. It was a far cry from the first week they’d done this, when Danae flinched from nearly every touch. Now, her daughter was actually… calm. At ease. Seemingly comfortable, where once she would have rejected such simple affection.
“We’ll trim it up a little more today, but nothing drastic,” she murmured. “It seems to be growing out well; I don’t want to overdo it.”
Gently dragging a comb through her daughter’s hair, Circenia grabbed her shears and started carefully trimming up her ends to maintain the shape they wanted to grow into. Humming softly as she cut, she asked, “Have you been using the tonic I gave you?” It was a simple mixture of oils and perfumes that she often used on her own ebony locks, a tonic she swore was the reason she wasn’t grayer than she was. “It looks like it.”
Offering a smile in the looking glass, she made quick work of the girl’s hair before setting the shears down, dusting the bits of hair from Danae’s shoulders, and quietly announcing, “All done.”
Much to her surprise and delight, it didn’t seem Danae was done, though. Holding up a jar of blush, her daughter correctly guessed at its contents, and the grin that broke over the princess’s face was hard to cover. Clearing her throat lest she come off too eager, she responded with a brusque nod. “It is blush, you’re right.”
It was hard to hide her shock that her youngest was expressing any sort of interest in cosmetics, but Circenia wasn’t about to complain. Chara had been fascinated by such girlish endeavors nearly from the time she’d burst from the womb, but Danae… Danae had always seemed to shun womanly pursuits with an almost vitriolic vigor. Lifting one of the small horsehair brushes she used just for this purpose, she took the little tub from Danae’s fingers and dipped the end of the brush in the powder.
“You use it to highlight your cheekbones, like this.” Gazing in the looking glass, Circenia made smooth lines under each of her own cheekbones, using the brush to blend it out into her skin. Hesitantly, almost as if she was afraid Danae would immediately bolt, she held the brush and the pot out to her. “Would you like to try?”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Though Circenia of Stravos would happily have wrung the neck of the man who attacked her daughter, she also felt an odd measure of gratitude toward the anonymous figure who’d unwittingly brought the princess closer to her youngest child. She and Danae were often at odds, especially as her daughter had entered puberty. It seemed no matter the words Circenia spoke to her, they were the wrong ones, and any attempts to bridge the gap between them were pushed away with both hands. But ever since the girl’s mysterious attack…
Things were different.
It had all started with a seemingly innocuous request on Danae’s part for Circenia to trim her hair. Seeing the wreckage of the girl’s once beautiful dark locks had riled the proud mother’s anger something fierce, but the princess managed to keep herself under control. A show of temper, no matter that it wasn’t directed at Danae, might drive her daughter away nearly as soon as she’d pulled her in. Her youngest reminded her of a cat in that way—proud and aloof, selective with her affection, and apt to run off if it was returned too strongly. It was a delicate line she would have to walk, but Circenia would cheerfully walk it if it meant she got to steal a few hours with her oft estranged child.
Week after week, Danae kept returning so that Circenia could tend to her, teaching the girl how to wrap the elaborate scarves that hid the hastily shorn locks from the gossiping eyes of the world. No doubt they wondered why it was that the youngest Stravos had suddenly taken to a more feminine fashion like this, but let them talk. Better that they speculate about the possibilities than know the truth. Especially when she still didn’t know the full truth.
But perhaps she could gain Danae’s trust enough for her to talk to her. Perhaps there was still the chance to set such a dreadful wrong to rights.
On this particular morning, Circenia awaited her daughter eagerly, looking up with a smile when the girl entered the room. “Good morning, Danae,” she replied warmly, standing and gesturing for her daughter to take her accustomed seat at the vanity. “Did you sleep well?”
Standing behind her, she gently ran her fingers through the short waves that framed Danae’s face, checking on the ends to ensure they were growing out evenly. While her daughter sat calmly under her hands, she did her best to hide a smile. It was a far cry from the first week they’d done this, when Danae flinched from nearly every touch. Now, her daughter was actually… calm. At ease. Seemingly comfortable, where once she would have rejected such simple affection.
“We’ll trim it up a little more today, but nothing drastic,” she murmured. “It seems to be growing out well; I don’t want to overdo it.”
Gently dragging a comb through her daughter’s hair, Circenia grabbed her shears and started carefully trimming up her ends to maintain the shape they wanted to grow into. Humming softly as she cut, she asked, “Have you been using the tonic I gave you?” It was a simple mixture of oils and perfumes that she often used on her own ebony locks, a tonic she swore was the reason she wasn’t grayer than she was. “It looks like it.”
Offering a smile in the looking glass, she made quick work of the girl’s hair before setting the shears down, dusting the bits of hair from Danae’s shoulders, and quietly announcing, “All done.”
Much to her surprise and delight, it didn’t seem Danae was done, though. Holding up a jar of blush, her daughter correctly guessed at its contents, and the grin that broke over the princess’s face was hard to cover. Clearing her throat lest she come off too eager, she responded with a brusque nod. “It is blush, you’re right.”
It was hard to hide her shock that her youngest was expressing any sort of interest in cosmetics, but Circenia wasn’t about to complain. Chara had been fascinated by such girlish endeavors nearly from the time she’d burst from the womb, but Danae… Danae had always seemed to shun womanly pursuits with an almost vitriolic vigor. Lifting one of the small horsehair brushes she used just for this purpose, she took the little tub from Danae’s fingers and dipped the end of the brush in the powder.
“You use it to highlight your cheekbones, like this.” Gazing in the looking glass, Circenia made smooth lines under each of her own cheekbones, using the brush to blend it out into her skin. Hesitantly, almost as if she was afraid Danae would immediately bolt, she held the brush and the pot out to her. “Would you like to try?”
Though Circenia of Stravos would happily have wrung the neck of the man who attacked her daughter, she also felt an odd measure of gratitude toward the anonymous figure who’d unwittingly brought the princess closer to her youngest child. She and Danae were often at odds, especially as her daughter had entered puberty. It seemed no matter the words Circenia spoke to her, they were the wrong ones, and any attempts to bridge the gap between them were pushed away with both hands. But ever since the girl’s mysterious attack…
Things were different.
It had all started with a seemingly innocuous request on Danae’s part for Circenia to trim her hair. Seeing the wreckage of the girl’s once beautiful dark locks had riled the proud mother’s anger something fierce, but the princess managed to keep herself under control. A show of temper, no matter that it wasn’t directed at Danae, might drive her daughter away nearly as soon as she’d pulled her in. Her youngest reminded her of a cat in that way—proud and aloof, selective with her affection, and apt to run off if it was returned too strongly. It was a delicate line she would have to walk, but Circenia would cheerfully walk it if it meant she got to steal a few hours with her oft estranged child.
Week after week, Danae kept returning so that Circenia could tend to her, teaching the girl how to wrap the elaborate scarves that hid the hastily shorn locks from the gossiping eyes of the world. No doubt they wondered why it was that the youngest Stravos had suddenly taken to a more feminine fashion like this, but let them talk. Better that they speculate about the possibilities than know the truth. Especially when she still didn’t know the full truth.
But perhaps she could gain Danae’s trust enough for her to talk to her. Perhaps there was still the chance to set such a dreadful wrong to rights.
On this particular morning, Circenia awaited her daughter eagerly, looking up with a smile when the girl entered the room. “Good morning, Danae,” she replied warmly, standing and gesturing for her daughter to take her accustomed seat at the vanity. “Did you sleep well?”
Standing behind her, she gently ran her fingers through the short waves that framed Danae’s face, checking on the ends to ensure they were growing out evenly. While her daughter sat calmly under her hands, she did her best to hide a smile. It was a far cry from the first week they’d done this, when Danae flinched from nearly every touch. Now, her daughter was actually… calm. At ease. Seemingly comfortable, where once she would have rejected such simple affection.
“We’ll trim it up a little more today, but nothing drastic,” she murmured. “It seems to be growing out well; I don’t want to overdo it.”
Gently dragging a comb through her daughter’s hair, Circenia grabbed her shears and started carefully trimming up her ends to maintain the shape they wanted to grow into. Humming softly as she cut, she asked, “Have you been using the tonic I gave you?” It was a simple mixture of oils and perfumes that she often used on her own ebony locks, a tonic she swore was the reason she wasn’t grayer than she was. “It looks like it.”
Offering a smile in the looking glass, she made quick work of the girl’s hair before setting the shears down, dusting the bits of hair from Danae’s shoulders, and quietly announcing, “All done.”
Much to her surprise and delight, it didn’t seem Danae was done, though. Holding up a jar of blush, her daughter correctly guessed at its contents, and the grin that broke over the princess’s face was hard to cover. Clearing her throat lest she come off too eager, she responded with a brusque nod. “It is blush, you’re right.”
It was hard to hide her shock that her youngest was expressing any sort of interest in cosmetics, but Circenia wasn’t about to complain. Chara had been fascinated by such girlish endeavors nearly from the time she’d burst from the womb, but Danae… Danae had always seemed to shun womanly pursuits with an almost vitriolic vigor. Lifting one of the small horsehair brushes she used just for this purpose, she took the little tub from Danae’s fingers and dipped the end of the brush in the powder.
“You use it to highlight your cheekbones, like this.” Gazing in the looking glass, Circenia made smooth lines under each of her own cheekbones, using the brush to blend it out into her skin. Hesitantly, almost as if she was afraid Danae would immediately bolt, she held the brush and the pot out to her. “Would you like to try?”
Danae nodded and murmured in agreement when her mother asked if she had slept well the night before. Her answer was always the same answer. It was one Circena always expected to hear, but it was a lie. Never once had Danae told the truth even though the real answer was written so clearly in the bags under eyes and her infrequent short naps throughout the day. It was obvious through Danae’s inability to piece together a coherent answer for her mother and instead offered a few grumblings as she tried to stifle a yawn. It had been two months since Danae has had a good night’s rest, but that was hardly her fault.
No one could truly rest when they’re plagued with nightmares.
For the most part; these cursed dreams always fell into one of two categories. The first was the most frequent and frighteningly straightforward. Whenever that dream occurred, it would start on a rolling ship, facing a stormy sea. Danae would be alone on the deck until he appeared. Even now, in the safety of her mother’s room, a small shiver ran down Danae’s spine as she recalled that evil smirk and the glint of the blade in his hands. She always tried to run, but he still managed to capture her without fail. Every single time, that knife would end up at her neck and no matter how much of a fight she kicked up, that blade would slide across her neck. Then without so much as a second thought, the dream version of his monster would toss her over the side of the ship to be claimed by the crashing water… just like he had threatened. She could still always hear the roar that came from the choppy waves for a while after she’d awaken in a cold sweat.
The second was much simpler and far less predictable in nature. These dreams focused on Danae failing her family. They were so different every time that the young girl had trouble remembering the details surrounding how she disappointed the Stravos, but the one constant; the shunning disapproving glares were practically burned into her mind. That she could remember with perfect clarity. She always shrunk in these dreams and that fighting spirit she showed with Lukos never appeared when that crushing feeling of not being good enough came out to play.
It was that fear that kept her mouth shut regarding both the dreams and Lukos overall. There was no good in revealing any of it. Not when her actions had been so stupid and careless that her family would surely be disappointed in how thoughtless Danae had been. (After all, if she wasn’t a Stravos when she confronted Lukos, the girl would be at the bottom of the Aegean. There was no doubt about that.) She was supposed to be smarter than that. Danae couldn’t let her family know what she had done. It was something that she was determined to take to her grave. No matter the cost.
As for the nightmares, her family was probably aware that they were happening or least anticipated that they might be due to how poorly Danae had handled the aftermath of her attack. However, she never breathed a word of it to anyone. Just like the details surrounding her encounter with Lukos, Danae clamped down on revealing the troubles she had with sleeping. As far as she was concerned, this was the best course of action as she couldn’t see how talking about anything would help her. If only she knew that revealing her secret would help alleviate the pressure that it was slowly and unknowingly crushing her with
But that wasn’t something she wanted to think about right now. Not here at least.
Danae visibly relaxed when her mother ran her fingers through her daughter’s short tresses. She couldn’t help it. There was just something so incredibly soothing about the sensation. The littlest Stravos didn’t know what it was exactly; maybe it was the feather-light touches themselves as they just barely danced across her scalp, sending shivers down her spine, that set her at ease. Or perhaps it was the feeling of her being taken care of… That she was safe here underneath the caring palms of her mother as the Stravos matriarch healed the physical wounds left behind with the help of a few combs and scissors. Whatever it was, it was enough to have Danae feel comfortable in the silence that filled the room.
Much like a housecat finally allowing a hand to venture close enough to touch its fur, Danae didn’t pull away or flinch at her mother’s touch. Instead, she let her eyes slip closed as her mother checked the length of her hair. The girl didn’t need to say a word, This action was enough for the Stravos matriarch to know how content she was. It was a far cry from the past sixteen years where Danae would have never allowed for this sort of thing to happen. She would always push anyone who got too close to her with a comb in hand out of sheer fear that they wouldn’t just stop at her hair. She didn’t trust them to not turn her into some sort of doll, complete with the mountains of jewels, makeup, and the thousand other things that Danae was far too self-conscious to wear.
Yet, she trusted her mother here.
Circenia had earned that from her daughter. Danae was grateful for how her mother understood how vulnerable her daughter was during these moments. Not once had Circenia tried to get her daughter to do anything beyond learning how to maintain a short style that couldn’t be braided. Circe clearly respected that boundary, which never would have happened before that fateful Senate meeting. That was all Danae needed after all these years. That promise that she wouldn’t be pushed into becoming something she didn’t want to become nor could see herself as.
It was just a shame that it had taken sixteen years for the mother and daughter to see as much.
Her eyes fluttered open when her mother spoke again. Danae nodded in response to the plan the older woman had set forth, trusting her to do whatever was best. While her mother reached for a comb, Danae couldn’t help, but sneak a glance in the mirror. She hated looking at her hair, but even she had to agree that her mother was right. At this point, her locks almost looked as if they were no different than any other girl’s beyond the fact that it was much shorter. You couldn’t even tell that only a short while ago it had been sawed away with a knife. Her mother had done a good job of salvaging that mess.
Maybe there was some worth in womanly pursuits, after all.
“ Yes. I think I might be running low actually.” Danae said quietly when her mother quizzed her on whether or not she had been using the tonic she had provided. Danae was a bit skeptical on her mother’s claim that it kept gray hairs away -- which was something she didn’t even want to think about at sixteen -- but she couldn’t deny that it brought some sort of life back into her hair. After all, it was shiny and growing quickly, so clearly it worked… though that might be how overzealous Danae had been in adding the tonic at first. She didn’t know how much was supposed to use and how long she should go in between applying the solution; so the first few attempts had been too much, too quickly. Circenia had pointed out the mistake and Danae was now using the proper amount, but the damage of overusing it was coming back to haunt her as there was now only enough for a handful of uses. Hopefully whatever the mixture was made of it wasn’t horribly expensive or difficult to replace in these hard times...
As her mother finished with her hair though, Danae didn’t miss the slight smile that broke out on the Princess’s face as her daughter asked about the little blush container in her hands. Circe’s reaction made her daughter duck her head slightly as the embarrassment that came with needing to ask such a question flooded her cheeks. (It looked like Danae didn’t need a powder to make them red!) It wasn’t often that the girl got that sort of reaction from her. Not when her desire to live a different life always conflicted so heavily with what Circe saw as a perfect future for her youngest. Normally all Danae got were tense scowls before she would try to scurry off to the safety of her room or her father’s office.
But this? This felt kind of nice. Not as nice as her mother’s fingers moving through her hair, but still enough to keep Danae’s mood from turning sour.
She was grateful at least that she wasn’t completely a fool and had been right in what the powder was used for. There were so many cosmetic products on the table and --the naive girl she was when it came to this subject-- she thought that each one only had one specific purpose. So, the little cannister she held was the only blush her mother owned. In her mind, she could have been so far off as she spied the other little containers of powder that was dyed just as this one was. But she hadn’t been and the happy atmosphere of the room made it easier for her relief and almost-joy to creep onto her face in the form of a small smile. It was just barely there, right in the corner of her mouth as it uptick ever so slightly, but surely it was large enough for her mother to see; especially when it stood in sharp contrast to the scowl that was normally there instead.
The girl quietly watched as her mother took both the canister from her and a brush from the overwhelming pile. It surprised her a little to see that her mother had reached for this one specifically and pushed others aside to get to it. Did the never-ending amount of brushes each have a specific type of makeup they were supposed to be used with? Danae honestly thought that you could use one brush for everything. If she wasn’t already so flustered from needing to ask about the blush she might have asked her mother that very question. Instead, she only shot the woman a puzzled look that could have honestly meant a whole variety of things and all would likely go unanswered if her mother didn’t press her on it…
It was almost like her mother was taking a brush loaded with paint to a canvas with how skillfully the woman moved the blush across her face. Danae swore that if she hadn’t seen Circe do it before her very eyes, it couldn’t have happened with how well it was blended into her mother’s skin. There was only the faintest trace of red on her cheekbone and it looked entirely natural. You couldn’t even tell that she had makeup on in the first place.
Danae was so awestruck with how effortless it had seemed and how intently her brain was focusing on picking up the little flecks on her mother’s face that she didn’t even notice that her mother was holding out for the tools to take. When she did though, the girl froze. She was unsure of what to do. Wearing makeup was not something Danae liked to do and the few times that she did it was applied by some other member of the household -- normally Chara or one of the many ladies-in-waiting that were flittering about the residence. Never by her own hand.
“ But what if I mess it up? What if put too much on the brush and it gets everywhere?” Danae blurted out with wide eyes, completely afraid of looking like a fool. This is why Danae stuck to the few things that she knew that she excelled at. She couldn’t be embarrassed if she knew what she was doing and she most certainly did not know what she was doing here. She was so flustered with the sheer possibility of failure that she realized a bit too late that she hadn’t outright denied her mother’s offer. That meant that she had to do it now that she’d probably gotten Circe’s hopes up. Her mother had done so much for her in the past few weeks that Danae felt like she couldn’t say no and let her mother down.
And besides, it was only just a little blush, right?
So, for the sole reason of making her mother happy, Danae reached out for the brush and cannister with shaky hands. (She was that nervous of this going badly.) Carefully, she set them down and loaded the brush with the pinkish-red powder. Just like she had feared, Danae had done this step a little too well, leaving far too much on the horsehair. Before her mother could correct her and being too much of a novice to recognize her mistake, Danae cautiously brought it up to her cheeks.
At the first contact with her skin, a small cloud of blush came up from the brush. The surprise of this caused Danae to press the brush into a skin a little more than she meant to before she quickly pulled away… leaving a streaky red blotch on her face. Her attempt had none of the grace of her mother’s and as soon as Danae could see that as soon as she looked up at the mirror. Crestfallen, the girl’s hesitant smile disappeared as she stared at the reflection of her mistake. She knew that she wouldn’t get it right. She knew that she should have said no. She didn’t even want to look at her mother, knowing full well that the woman would be so disappointed in the fact that her daughter couldn’t even apply blush right.
These thoughts stemming from her own insecurities were made clear by the words she quietly muttered to herself as tears threatened to well in her eyes, “ I knew I wouldn’t get it right. Just like everything else.”
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Danae nodded and murmured in agreement when her mother asked if she had slept well the night before. Her answer was always the same answer. It was one Circena always expected to hear, but it was a lie. Never once had Danae told the truth even though the real answer was written so clearly in the bags under eyes and her infrequent short naps throughout the day. It was obvious through Danae’s inability to piece together a coherent answer for her mother and instead offered a few grumblings as she tried to stifle a yawn. It had been two months since Danae has had a good night’s rest, but that was hardly her fault.
No one could truly rest when they’re plagued with nightmares.
For the most part; these cursed dreams always fell into one of two categories. The first was the most frequent and frighteningly straightforward. Whenever that dream occurred, it would start on a rolling ship, facing a stormy sea. Danae would be alone on the deck until he appeared. Even now, in the safety of her mother’s room, a small shiver ran down Danae’s spine as she recalled that evil smirk and the glint of the blade in his hands. She always tried to run, but he still managed to capture her without fail. Every single time, that knife would end up at her neck and no matter how much of a fight she kicked up, that blade would slide across her neck. Then without so much as a second thought, the dream version of his monster would toss her over the side of the ship to be claimed by the crashing water… just like he had threatened. She could still always hear the roar that came from the choppy waves for a while after she’d awaken in a cold sweat.
The second was much simpler and far less predictable in nature. These dreams focused on Danae failing her family. They were so different every time that the young girl had trouble remembering the details surrounding how she disappointed the Stravos, but the one constant; the shunning disapproving glares were practically burned into her mind. That she could remember with perfect clarity. She always shrunk in these dreams and that fighting spirit she showed with Lukos never appeared when that crushing feeling of not being good enough came out to play.
It was that fear that kept her mouth shut regarding both the dreams and Lukos overall. There was no good in revealing any of it. Not when her actions had been so stupid and careless that her family would surely be disappointed in how thoughtless Danae had been. (After all, if she wasn’t a Stravos when she confronted Lukos, the girl would be at the bottom of the Aegean. There was no doubt about that.) She was supposed to be smarter than that. Danae couldn’t let her family know what she had done. It was something that she was determined to take to her grave. No matter the cost.
As for the nightmares, her family was probably aware that they were happening or least anticipated that they might be due to how poorly Danae had handled the aftermath of her attack. However, she never breathed a word of it to anyone. Just like the details surrounding her encounter with Lukos, Danae clamped down on revealing the troubles she had with sleeping. As far as she was concerned, this was the best course of action as she couldn’t see how talking about anything would help her. If only she knew that revealing her secret would help alleviate the pressure that it was slowly and unknowingly crushing her with
But that wasn’t something she wanted to think about right now. Not here at least.
Danae visibly relaxed when her mother ran her fingers through her daughter’s short tresses. She couldn’t help it. There was just something so incredibly soothing about the sensation. The littlest Stravos didn’t know what it was exactly; maybe it was the feather-light touches themselves as they just barely danced across her scalp, sending shivers down her spine, that set her at ease. Or perhaps it was the feeling of her being taken care of… That she was safe here underneath the caring palms of her mother as the Stravos matriarch healed the physical wounds left behind with the help of a few combs and scissors. Whatever it was, it was enough to have Danae feel comfortable in the silence that filled the room.
Much like a housecat finally allowing a hand to venture close enough to touch its fur, Danae didn’t pull away or flinch at her mother’s touch. Instead, she let her eyes slip closed as her mother checked the length of her hair. The girl didn’t need to say a word, This action was enough for the Stravos matriarch to know how content she was. It was a far cry from the past sixteen years where Danae would have never allowed for this sort of thing to happen. She would always push anyone who got too close to her with a comb in hand out of sheer fear that they wouldn’t just stop at her hair. She didn’t trust them to not turn her into some sort of doll, complete with the mountains of jewels, makeup, and the thousand other things that Danae was far too self-conscious to wear.
Yet, she trusted her mother here.
Circenia had earned that from her daughter. Danae was grateful for how her mother understood how vulnerable her daughter was during these moments. Not once had Circenia tried to get her daughter to do anything beyond learning how to maintain a short style that couldn’t be braided. Circe clearly respected that boundary, which never would have happened before that fateful Senate meeting. That was all Danae needed after all these years. That promise that she wouldn’t be pushed into becoming something she didn’t want to become nor could see herself as.
It was just a shame that it had taken sixteen years for the mother and daughter to see as much.
Her eyes fluttered open when her mother spoke again. Danae nodded in response to the plan the older woman had set forth, trusting her to do whatever was best. While her mother reached for a comb, Danae couldn’t help, but sneak a glance in the mirror. She hated looking at her hair, but even she had to agree that her mother was right. At this point, her locks almost looked as if they were no different than any other girl’s beyond the fact that it was much shorter. You couldn’t even tell that only a short while ago it had been sawed away with a knife. Her mother had done a good job of salvaging that mess.
Maybe there was some worth in womanly pursuits, after all.
“ Yes. I think I might be running low actually.” Danae said quietly when her mother quizzed her on whether or not she had been using the tonic she had provided. Danae was a bit skeptical on her mother’s claim that it kept gray hairs away -- which was something she didn’t even want to think about at sixteen -- but she couldn’t deny that it brought some sort of life back into her hair. After all, it was shiny and growing quickly, so clearly it worked… though that might be how overzealous Danae had been in adding the tonic at first. She didn’t know how much was supposed to use and how long she should go in between applying the solution; so the first few attempts had been too much, too quickly. Circenia had pointed out the mistake and Danae was now using the proper amount, but the damage of overusing it was coming back to haunt her as there was now only enough for a handful of uses. Hopefully whatever the mixture was made of it wasn’t horribly expensive or difficult to replace in these hard times...
As her mother finished with her hair though, Danae didn’t miss the slight smile that broke out on the Princess’s face as her daughter asked about the little blush container in her hands. Circe’s reaction made her daughter duck her head slightly as the embarrassment that came with needing to ask such a question flooded her cheeks. (It looked like Danae didn’t need a powder to make them red!) It wasn’t often that the girl got that sort of reaction from her. Not when her desire to live a different life always conflicted so heavily with what Circe saw as a perfect future for her youngest. Normally all Danae got were tense scowls before she would try to scurry off to the safety of her room or her father’s office.
But this? This felt kind of nice. Not as nice as her mother’s fingers moving through her hair, but still enough to keep Danae’s mood from turning sour.
She was grateful at least that she wasn’t completely a fool and had been right in what the powder was used for. There were so many cosmetic products on the table and --the naive girl she was when it came to this subject-- she thought that each one only had one specific purpose. So, the little cannister she held was the only blush her mother owned. In her mind, she could have been so far off as she spied the other little containers of powder that was dyed just as this one was. But she hadn’t been and the happy atmosphere of the room made it easier for her relief and almost-joy to creep onto her face in the form of a small smile. It was just barely there, right in the corner of her mouth as it uptick ever so slightly, but surely it was large enough for her mother to see; especially when it stood in sharp contrast to the scowl that was normally there instead.
The girl quietly watched as her mother took both the canister from her and a brush from the overwhelming pile. It surprised her a little to see that her mother had reached for this one specifically and pushed others aside to get to it. Did the never-ending amount of brushes each have a specific type of makeup they were supposed to be used with? Danae honestly thought that you could use one brush for everything. If she wasn’t already so flustered from needing to ask about the blush she might have asked her mother that very question. Instead, she only shot the woman a puzzled look that could have honestly meant a whole variety of things and all would likely go unanswered if her mother didn’t press her on it…
It was almost like her mother was taking a brush loaded with paint to a canvas with how skillfully the woman moved the blush across her face. Danae swore that if she hadn’t seen Circe do it before her very eyes, it couldn’t have happened with how well it was blended into her mother’s skin. There was only the faintest trace of red on her cheekbone and it looked entirely natural. You couldn’t even tell that she had makeup on in the first place.
Danae was so awestruck with how effortless it had seemed and how intently her brain was focusing on picking up the little flecks on her mother’s face that she didn’t even notice that her mother was holding out for the tools to take. When she did though, the girl froze. She was unsure of what to do. Wearing makeup was not something Danae liked to do and the few times that she did it was applied by some other member of the household -- normally Chara or one of the many ladies-in-waiting that were flittering about the residence. Never by her own hand.
“ But what if I mess it up? What if put too much on the brush and it gets everywhere?” Danae blurted out with wide eyes, completely afraid of looking like a fool. This is why Danae stuck to the few things that she knew that she excelled at. She couldn’t be embarrassed if she knew what she was doing and she most certainly did not know what she was doing here. She was so flustered with the sheer possibility of failure that she realized a bit too late that she hadn’t outright denied her mother’s offer. That meant that she had to do it now that she’d probably gotten Circe’s hopes up. Her mother had done so much for her in the past few weeks that Danae felt like she couldn’t say no and let her mother down.
And besides, it was only just a little blush, right?
So, for the sole reason of making her mother happy, Danae reached out for the brush and cannister with shaky hands. (She was that nervous of this going badly.) Carefully, she set them down and loaded the brush with the pinkish-red powder. Just like she had feared, Danae had done this step a little too well, leaving far too much on the horsehair. Before her mother could correct her and being too much of a novice to recognize her mistake, Danae cautiously brought it up to her cheeks.
At the first contact with her skin, a small cloud of blush came up from the brush. The surprise of this caused Danae to press the brush into a skin a little more than she meant to before she quickly pulled away… leaving a streaky red blotch on her face. Her attempt had none of the grace of her mother’s and as soon as Danae could see that as soon as she looked up at the mirror. Crestfallen, the girl’s hesitant smile disappeared as she stared at the reflection of her mistake. She knew that she wouldn’t get it right. She knew that she should have said no. She didn’t even want to look at her mother, knowing full well that the woman would be so disappointed in the fact that her daughter couldn’t even apply blush right.
These thoughts stemming from her own insecurities were made clear by the words she quietly muttered to herself as tears threatened to well in her eyes, “ I knew I wouldn’t get it right. Just like everything else.”
Danae nodded and murmured in agreement when her mother asked if she had slept well the night before. Her answer was always the same answer. It was one Circena always expected to hear, but it was a lie. Never once had Danae told the truth even though the real answer was written so clearly in the bags under eyes and her infrequent short naps throughout the day. It was obvious through Danae’s inability to piece together a coherent answer for her mother and instead offered a few grumblings as she tried to stifle a yawn. It had been two months since Danae has had a good night’s rest, but that was hardly her fault.
No one could truly rest when they’re plagued with nightmares.
For the most part; these cursed dreams always fell into one of two categories. The first was the most frequent and frighteningly straightforward. Whenever that dream occurred, it would start on a rolling ship, facing a stormy sea. Danae would be alone on the deck until he appeared. Even now, in the safety of her mother’s room, a small shiver ran down Danae’s spine as she recalled that evil smirk and the glint of the blade in his hands. She always tried to run, but he still managed to capture her without fail. Every single time, that knife would end up at her neck and no matter how much of a fight she kicked up, that blade would slide across her neck. Then without so much as a second thought, the dream version of his monster would toss her over the side of the ship to be claimed by the crashing water… just like he had threatened. She could still always hear the roar that came from the choppy waves for a while after she’d awaken in a cold sweat.
The second was much simpler and far less predictable in nature. These dreams focused on Danae failing her family. They were so different every time that the young girl had trouble remembering the details surrounding how she disappointed the Stravos, but the one constant; the shunning disapproving glares were practically burned into her mind. That she could remember with perfect clarity. She always shrunk in these dreams and that fighting spirit she showed with Lukos never appeared when that crushing feeling of not being good enough came out to play.
It was that fear that kept her mouth shut regarding both the dreams and Lukos overall. There was no good in revealing any of it. Not when her actions had been so stupid and careless that her family would surely be disappointed in how thoughtless Danae had been. (After all, if she wasn’t a Stravos when she confronted Lukos, the girl would be at the bottom of the Aegean. There was no doubt about that.) She was supposed to be smarter than that. Danae couldn’t let her family know what she had done. It was something that she was determined to take to her grave. No matter the cost.
As for the nightmares, her family was probably aware that they were happening or least anticipated that they might be due to how poorly Danae had handled the aftermath of her attack. However, she never breathed a word of it to anyone. Just like the details surrounding her encounter with Lukos, Danae clamped down on revealing the troubles she had with sleeping. As far as she was concerned, this was the best course of action as she couldn’t see how talking about anything would help her. If only she knew that revealing her secret would help alleviate the pressure that it was slowly and unknowingly crushing her with
But that wasn’t something she wanted to think about right now. Not here at least.
Danae visibly relaxed when her mother ran her fingers through her daughter’s short tresses. She couldn’t help it. There was just something so incredibly soothing about the sensation. The littlest Stravos didn’t know what it was exactly; maybe it was the feather-light touches themselves as they just barely danced across her scalp, sending shivers down her spine, that set her at ease. Or perhaps it was the feeling of her being taken care of… That she was safe here underneath the caring palms of her mother as the Stravos matriarch healed the physical wounds left behind with the help of a few combs and scissors. Whatever it was, it was enough to have Danae feel comfortable in the silence that filled the room.
Much like a housecat finally allowing a hand to venture close enough to touch its fur, Danae didn’t pull away or flinch at her mother’s touch. Instead, she let her eyes slip closed as her mother checked the length of her hair. The girl didn’t need to say a word, This action was enough for the Stravos matriarch to know how content she was. It was a far cry from the past sixteen years where Danae would have never allowed for this sort of thing to happen. She would always push anyone who got too close to her with a comb in hand out of sheer fear that they wouldn’t just stop at her hair. She didn’t trust them to not turn her into some sort of doll, complete with the mountains of jewels, makeup, and the thousand other things that Danae was far too self-conscious to wear.
Yet, she trusted her mother here.
Circenia had earned that from her daughter. Danae was grateful for how her mother understood how vulnerable her daughter was during these moments. Not once had Circenia tried to get her daughter to do anything beyond learning how to maintain a short style that couldn’t be braided. Circe clearly respected that boundary, which never would have happened before that fateful Senate meeting. That was all Danae needed after all these years. That promise that she wouldn’t be pushed into becoming something she didn’t want to become nor could see herself as.
It was just a shame that it had taken sixteen years for the mother and daughter to see as much.
Her eyes fluttered open when her mother spoke again. Danae nodded in response to the plan the older woman had set forth, trusting her to do whatever was best. While her mother reached for a comb, Danae couldn’t help, but sneak a glance in the mirror. She hated looking at her hair, but even she had to agree that her mother was right. At this point, her locks almost looked as if they were no different than any other girl’s beyond the fact that it was much shorter. You couldn’t even tell that only a short while ago it had been sawed away with a knife. Her mother had done a good job of salvaging that mess.
Maybe there was some worth in womanly pursuits, after all.
“ Yes. I think I might be running low actually.” Danae said quietly when her mother quizzed her on whether or not she had been using the tonic she had provided. Danae was a bit skeptical on her mother’s claim that it kept gray hairs away -- which was something she didn’t even want to think about at sixteen -- but she couldn’t deny that it brought some sort of life back into her hair. After all, it was shiny and growing quickly, so clearly it worked… though that might be how overzealous Danae had been in adding the tonic at first. She didn’t know how much was supposed to use and how long she should go in between applying the solution; so the first few attempts had been too much, too quickly. Circenia had pointed out the mistake and Danae was now using the proper amount, but the damage of overusing it was coming back to haunt her as there was now only enough for a handful of uses. Hopefully whatever the mixture was made of it wasn’t horribly expensive or difficult to replace in these hard times...
As her mother finished with her hair though, Danae didn’t miss the slight smile that broke out on the Princess’s face as her daughter asked about the little blush container in her hands. Circe’s reaction made her daughter duck her head slightly as the embarrassment that came with needing to ask such a question flooded her cheeks. (It looked like Danae didn’t need a powder to make them red!) It wasn’t often that the girl got that sort of reaction from her. Not when her desire to live a different life always conflicted so heavily with what Circe saw as a perfect future for her youngest. Normally all Danae got were tense scowls before she would try to scurry off to the safety of her room or her father’s office.
But this? This felt kind of nice. Not as nice as her mother’s fingers moving through her hair, but still enough to keep Danae’s mood from turning sour.
She was grateful at least that she wasn’t completely a fool and had been right in what the powder was used for. There were so many cosmetic products on the table and --the naive girl she was when it came to this subject-- she thought that each one only had one specific purpose. So, the little cannister she held was the only blush her mother owned. In her mind, she could have been so far off as she spied the other little containers of powder that was dyed just as this one was. But she hadn’t been and the happy atmosphere of the room made it easier for her relief and almost-joy to creep onto her face in the form of a small smile. It was just barely there, right in the corner of her mouth as it uptick ever so slightly, but surely it was large enough for her mother to see; especially when it stood in sharp contrast to the scowl that was normally there instead.
The girl quietly watched as her mother took both the canister from her and a brush from the overwhelming pile. It surprised her a little to see that her mother had reached for this one specifically and pushed others aside to get to it. Did the never-ending amount of brushes each have a specific type of makeup they were supposed to be used with? Danae honestly thought that you could use one brush for everything. If she wasn’t already so flustered from needing to ask about the blush she might have asked her mother that very question. Instead, she only shot the woman a puzzled look that could have honestly meant a whole variety of things and all would likely go unanswered if her mother didn’t press her on it…
It was almost like her mother was taking a brush loaded with paint to a canvas with how skillfully the woman moved the blush across her face. Danae swore that if she hadn’t seen Circe do it before her very eyes, it couldn’t have happened with how well it was blended into her mother’s skin. There was only the faintest trace of red on her cheekbone and it looked entirely natural. You couldn’t even tell that she had makeup on in the first place.
Danae was so awestruck with how effortless it had seemed and how intently her brain was focusing on picking up the little flecks on her mother’s face that she didn’t even notice that her mother was holding out for the tools to take. When she did though, the girl froze. She was unsure of what to do. Wearing makeup was not something Danae liked to do and the few times that she did it was applied by some other member of the household -- normally Chara or one of the many ladies-in-waiting that were flittering about the residence. Never by her own hand.
“ But what if I mess it up? What if put too much on the brush and it gets everywhere?” Danae blurted out with wide eyes, completely afraid of looking like a fool. This is why Danae stuck to the few things that she knew that she excelled at. She couldn’t be embarrassed if she knew what she was doing and she most certainly did not know what she was doing here. She was so flustered with the sheer possibility of failure that she realized a bit too late that she hadn’t outright denied her mother’s offer. That meant that she had to do it now that she’d probably gotten Circe’s hopes up. Her mother had done so much for her in the past few weeks that Danae felt like she couldn’t say no and let her mother down.
And besides, it was only just a little blush, right?
So, for the sole reason of making her mother happy, Danae reached out for the brush and cannister with shaky hands. (She was that nervous of this going badly.) Carefully, she set them down and loaded the brush with the pinkish-red powder. Just like she had feared, Danae had done this step a little too well, leaving far too much on the horsehair. Before her mother could correct her and being too much of a novice to recognize her mistake, Danae cautiously brought it up to her cheeks.
At the first contact with her skin, a small cloud of blush came up from the brush. The surprise of this caused Danae to press the brush into a skin a little more than she meant to before she quickly pulled away… leaving a streaky red blotch on her face. Her attempt had none of the grace of her mother’s and as soon as Danae could see that as soon as she looked up at the mirror. Crestfallen, the girl’s hesitant smile disappeared as she stared at the reflection of her mistake. She knew that she wouldn’t get it right. She knew that she should have said no. She didn’t even want to look at her mother, knowing full well that the woman would be so disappointed in the fact that her daughter couldn’t even apply blush right.
These thoughts stemming from her own insecurities were made clear by the words she quietly muttered to herself as tears threatened to well in her eyes, “ I knew I wouldn’t get it right. Just like everything else.”
Circenia wondered what it was about girlish endeavors that made Danae so particularly nervous, crystalline eyes watching the shaking of her daughter’s hands as she took the blush from her. Had the princess truly been so overbearing with her that just the thought of makeup nearly made her cry? Or was it something else? Silently, the Stravos matriarch berated herself that she should have been so remiss in nudging her daughter down the right path rather than trying to force and shove her. She swore to herself that she would be better about it in the future. These times with her youngest child were so precious to her; she did not want to risk them ending.
The older woman was not truly surprised to see the girl struggle to apply an even line; after all, it wasn’t like Danae had much practice with cosmetics, or really, any at all. In fact, she’d always been so vehemently opposed, that it had surprised Circenia to no end that she’d even been willing to try. “There, now, it’s all right,” she murmured in what she hoped came across as a comforting tone, taking the brush and pot from her hands and setting them back down on the vanity. Rather than react with the anger her daughter seemed to expect, the princess was calm, her tone even and face unperturbed. “No one gets it right on the first try. Blush is one of those things that’s very easy to overdo, especially when you’ve had no time to practice.”
I knew I wouldn’t get it right. Just like everything else.
Those words echoed over and over in her head, delicate brows drawing together in the barest hint of a frown. Did Danae truly have such an abysmal sense of self-worth? Was this her fault, as well? Circenia had always thought of herself as a good mother, but with this and the recent breakdown with Elias… perhaps she was not as skilled as she’d thought. A selfish woman by nature, she liked to think her children brought out the best in her. Maybe she was wrong.
“Now, now, that’s not true, child.” One hand rested lightly against Danae’s cheek, picking up a hairbrush and carefully arranging the locks out of her daughter’s face. “You’re a smart, strong, capable, young woman, and just because you smudged the blush on the first try doesn’t mean you’re useless. It just speaks of inexperience.”
For another few moments, she let silence soften the play of emotion in the room, pulling the brush through Danae’s hair over and over again. She brushed until her hair shone, grabbing a twisted gold and crimson ribbon from among her various beauty accoutrement. Carefully, she wove the ribbon through Danae’s short tresses, braiding little pieces around it to hold it in place. It wasn’t flashy or overly noticeable and was in the Stravos colors, besides; she figured the girl wouldn’t object too much.
“There,” she said with a smile when she was done, gently stroking the top of her head.
“Now, as for the little mess on your face…” She smiled, grabbing up a rag and wetting it with one of the various vials of oil she kept scattered amongst her things. She dabbed the moistened rag against Danae’s cheek, removing the splotchy red mark before patting it dry with the other end of the rag.
“Let me show you.”
Holding up the little jar, she demonstrated with the brush again, dipping it in the colored powder and tapping it off to the side. “The trick with blush is that less is more. If you have too much on the brush to start with, you’ll just end up with a blob of red on your face.” Gently tilting Danae’s face so that it would catch the light better, she drew a careful line under her left cheek bone. “Once it’s on your cheek, then you blend it out, otherwise it won’t look natural.” Using swift circular motions with the end of the brush, she blended the powder onto her daughter’s face, tilting her chin back and forth so Danae could see the difference. “You see? Just enough to give you some color, but not enough to make it look like you’re embarrassed.”
Winking, she offered the tools back to her daughter. “Would you like to try again on the other side? It’s okay if takes more than one attempt. Like I said before, it just takes practice. Not even I was perfect the first few times I tried.” Circenia laughed at the memory, shaking her head. “You should have seen what I looked like, parading about Court looking as if I’d planted apples under my cheeks. I don’t think my mother ever stopped laughing about it.” She snorted. “But I can tell you, I sure got better at it after that!”
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Circenia wondered what it was about girlish endeavors that made Danae so particularly nervous, crystalline eyes watching the shaking of her daughter’s hands as she took the blush from her. Had the princess truly been so overbearing with her that just the thought of makeup nearly made her cry? Or was it something else? Silently, the Stravos matriarch berated herself that she should have been so remiss in nudging her daughter down the right path rather than trying to force and shove her. She swore to herself that she would be better about it in the future. These times with her youngest child were so precious to her; she did not want to risk them ending.
The older woman was not truly surprised to see the girl struggle to apply an even line; after all, it wasn’t like Danae had much practice with cosmetics, or really, any at all. In fact, she’d always been so vehemently opposed, that it had surprised Circenia to no end that she’d even been willing to try. “There, now, it’s all right,” she murmured in what she hoped came across as a comforting tone, taking the brush and pot from her hands and setting them back down on the vanity. Rather than react with the anger her daughter seemed to expect, the princess was calm, her tone even and face unperturbed. “No one gets it right on the first try. Blush is one of those things that’s very easy to overdo, especially when you’ve had no time to practice.”
I knew I wouldn’t get it right. Just like everything else.
Those words echoed over and over in her head, delicate brows drawing together in the barest hint of a frown. Did Danae truly have such an abysmal sense of self-worth? Was this her fault, as well? Circenia had always thought of herself as a good mother, but with this and the recent breakdown with Elias… perhaps she was not as skilled as she’d thought. A selfish woman by nature, she liked to think her children brought out the best in her. Maybe she was wrong.
“Now, now, that’s not true, child.” One hand rested lightly against Danae’s cheek, picking up a hairbrush and carefully arranging the locks out of her daughter’s face. “You’re a smart, strong, capable, young woman, and just because you smudged the blush on the first try doesn’t mean you’re useless. It just speaks of inexperience.”
For another few moments, she let silence soften the play of emotion in the room, pulling the brush through Danae’s hair over and over again. She brushed until her hair shone, grabbing a twisted gold and crimson ribbon from among her various beauty accoutrement. Carefully, she wove the ribbon through Danae’s short tresses, braiding little pieces around it to hold it in place. It wasn’t flashy or overly noticeable and was in the Stravos colors, besides; she figured the girl wouldn’t object too much.
“There,” she said with a smile when she was done, gently stroking the top of her head.
“Now, as for the little mess on your face…” She smiled, grabbing up a rag and wetting it with one of the various vials of oil she kept scattered amongst her things. She dabbed the moistened rag against Danae’s cheek, removing the splotchy red mark before patting it dry with the other end of the rag.
“Let me show you.”
Holding up the little jar, she demonstrated with the brush again, dipping it in the colored powder and tapping it off to the side. “The trick with blush is that less is more. If you have too much on the brush to start with, you’ll just end up with a blob of red on your face.” Gently tilting Danae’s face so that it would catch the light better, she drew a careful line under her left cheek bone. “Once it’s on your cheek, then you blend it out, otherwise it won’t look natural.” Using swift circular motions with the end of the brush, she blended the powder onto her daughter’s face, tilting her chin back and forth so Danae could see the difference. “You see? Just enough to give you some color, but not enough to make it look like you’re embarrassed.”
Winking, she offered the tools back to her daughter. “Would you like to try again on the other side? It’s okay if takes more than one attempt. Like I said before, it just takes practice. Not even I was perfect the first few times I tried.” Circenia laughed at the memory, shaking her head. “You should have seen what I looked like, parading about Court looking as if I’d planted apples under my cheeks. I don’t think my mother ever stopped laughing about it.” She snorted. “But I can tell you, I sure got better at it after that!”
Circenia wondered what it was about girlish endeavors that made Danae so particularly nervous, crystalline eyes watching the shaking of her daughter’s hands as she took the blush from her. Had the princess truly been so overbearing with her that just the thought of makeup nearly made her cry? Or was it something else? Silently, the Stravos matriarch berated herself that she should have been so remiss in nudging her daughter down the right path rather than trying to force and shove her. She swore to herself that she would be better about it in the future. These times with her youngest child were so precious to her; she did not want to risk them ending.
The older woman was not truly surprised to see the girl struggle to apply an even line; after all, it wasn’t like Danae had much practice with cosmetics, or really, any at all. In fact, she’d always been so vehemently opposed, that it had surprised Circenia to no end that she’d even been willing to try. “There, now, it’s all right,” she murmured in what she hoped came across as a comforting tone, taking the brush and pot from her hands and setting them back down on the vanity. Rather than react with the anger her daughter seemed to expect, the princess was calm, her tone even and face unperturbed. “No one gets it right on the first try. Blush is one of those things that’s very easy to overdo, especially when you’ve had no time to practice.”
I knew I wouldn’t get it right. Just like everything else.
Those words echoed over and over in her head, delicate brows drawing together in the barest hint of a frown. Did Danae truly have such an abysmal sense of self-worth? Was this her fault, as well? Circenia had always thought of herself as a good mother, but with this and the recent breakdown with Elias… perhaps she was not as skilled as she’d thought. A selfish woman by nature, she liked to think her children brought out the best in her. Maybe she was wrong.
“Now, now, that’s not true, child.” One hand rested lightly against Danae’s cheek, picking up a hairbrush and carefully arranging the locks out of her daughter’s face. “You’re a smart, strong, capable, young woman, and just because you smudged the blush on the first try doesn’t mean you’re useless. It just speaks of inexperience.”
For another few moments, she let silence soften the play of emotion in the room, pulling the brush through Danae’s hair over and over again. She brushed until her hair shone, grabbing a twisted gold and crimson ribbon from among her various beauty accoutrement. Carefully, she wove the ribbon through Danae’s short tresses, braiding little pieces around it to hold it in place. It wasn’t flashy or overly noticeable and was in the Stravos colors, besides; she figured the girl wouldn’t object too much.
“There,” she said with a smile when she was done, gently stroking the top of her head.
“Now, as for the little mess on your face…” She smiled, grabbing up a rag and wetting it with one of the various vials of oil she kept scattered amongst her things. She dabbed the moistened rag against Danae’s cheek, removing the splotchy red mark before patting it dry with the other end of the rag.
“Let me show you.”
Holding up the little jar, she demonstrated with the brush again, dipping it in the colored powder and tapping it off to the side. “The trick with blush is that less is more. If you have too much on the brush to start with, you’ll just end up with a blob of red on your face.” Gently tilting Danae’s face so that it would catch the light better, she drew a careful line under her left cheek bone. “Once it’s on your cheek, then you blend it out, otherwise it won’t look natural.” Using swift circular motions with the end of the brush, she blended the powder onto her daughter’s face, tilting her chin back and forth so Danae could see the difference. “You see? Just enough to give you some color, but not enough to make it look like you’re embarrassed.”
Winking, she offered the tools back to her daughter. “Would you like to try again on the other side? It’s okay if takes more than one attempt. Like I said before, it just takes practice. Not even I was perfect the first few times I tried.” Circenia laughed at the memory, shaking her head. “You should have seen what I looked like, parading about Court looking as if I’d planted apples under my cheeks. I don’t think my mother ever stopped laughing about it.” She snorted. “But I can tell you, I sure got better at it after that!”
Danae didn’t know how to react to her mother’s calm demeanor. It was just so out of character for what the girl had come to expect that it temporarily brought her pause -- stopping the tears in her eyes before they could truly take hold. Circenia was right, that the fiasco on her cheek wasn’t that much of a disaster in the grand scheme of things, but Danae had grown so used to the Stravos matriarch reacting in a certain way that her mind already built itself up into a tizzy over the red splotch. It was a coping mechanism of sorts. As strange as it seemed, already being worked up before the usual litany of frustrated, biting comments that would come from Circenia wouldn’t sting quite as much. That was what Danae was used to. Comments said so offhandedly that her mother barely remembers that she had said them at all, but the harsh words would remain with her for days, making it impossible for Danae to reattempt whatever she had floundered with in the first place.
But those comments never came.
Instead, Circenia murmured reassurances to the girl as she took away the offending blush from Danae and set aside for the moment. For a moment, Danae was almost afraid to glance up at the other woman through the mirror before them. A small part of her was sure that even though the woman’s words had been kind, there would be some sort of pointed glare waiting for her. It was just so out of place for Circenia to not scold the child for making a mess or not getting it right, that it just seemed like there had to be some catch to the gentle reminders that no one got this sort of thing right the first time they tried. However, the lack of even the slightest hint of displeasure from her mother made it clear that it wasn’t going to happen. “ You and Chara make it look so easy though.” Danae finally muttered in response with a small grin forced onto her face, if only as a way to keep the mistake from getting to her.
It would be so easy for this sort of thing to get to her. Danae’s self-confidence had been shot to bits since the early days of puberty. That was when it became clear that Danae was not going to turn overnight into the stunning beauty that her sister was. That had also been around the period where those who she knew started caring less about the brilliance of Danae’s mind and grew more concerned about the traits she wanted in a future husband. Gifts no longer consisted of books, but instead of perfumes, jewels, and bolts of bright cloth -- none of which Danae would ever wear. Seemingly overnight, the world’s expectation of her changed while the girl stayed very much the same. She was not the demure woman they wanted her to be. She was still the girl who wanted to dabble in the fields that would remain off-limits to her because she had the misfortune of not being a boy.
Her unwillingness to submit to a life she had no desire to lead made her a failure in the eyes of others. Even if it wasn’t true, Danae had no way of knowing the difference. Certain men like her cousin Rafail of Marikas made a point of mentioning her shortcomings at every meeting -- even going as far as openly pitying the man who would be unfortunate enough to call Danae their bride. The disappointment was also clear in every interaction between the mother-daughter pair before this moment. The reaction that Danae had feared did not come from any sort of irrationality, but instead the strife that came from Danae trying to hide in her father’s office whenever Circenia tried to force the girl into a gaudy outfit. She knew that she was not the catch that Chara was or the perfect daughter her mother wished that she would be. Danae would never be that girl. Not when her nose was always in a book and her finger counting coins. But the pressure to be that young woman was always there.
It was crushing Danae.
She could barely hold the weight of such unattainable expectations on her shoulders. Danae could brush off comments in the moment and quickly run to hide among the things that she was good at. She could pretend that it didn’t bother her that no one seemed to be proud of who she was outside of her father -- but even he had his moments. But it did. It did so heavily that it made Danae bitter and spiteful as a defense mechanism. It was easier to push people away so that she would never have to confront how much of a failure she was. It was simpler to assume the worst and never be let down when she was inevitably told that she wasn’t as pretty as her sister, she’d make a terrible wife, or she had to give up the few things in life that made her happy beyond anything else.
Never before had she considered that it was okay to fail. That it was alright to mess up and learn from the mistakes that she made.
She had to confront this though when her mother gathered about the loose locks that had fallen out of place. As Circenia’s hands rearranged the short mop, Danae felt completely overwhelmed by the praise that was lauded onto her. It didn’t seem to be true, especially from her mother. How could the woman who had been so laser-focused for years to make Danae embrace her non-existant feminine side now be commending her intelligence and determination? It seemed to be some sort of cruel joke being played on her by the gods by allowing her to get her hopes up. It would be fitting, wouldn’t it, for them to pull the rug out from her if she allowed herself to believe the words that her mother spoke.
That nagging voice of self-doubt didn’t want to let Danae have the chance to be hurt like that. Instantly, out of sheer self-preserving instinct, Danae dismissed her mother’s words with a hasty statement, “ But I should know how to do this. There are so many things I should be able to do perfectly like you or Chara, but I can’t.” There was a clear tone of frustration present in her voice as her insecurities came bubbling to the surface once again. “ And what’s the point of being smart or strong when everyone wants me to be a pretty little doll?” Although her words may inflammatory in some instances, at this moment they were dripping with despair, making her mental state plain for her mother to see.
For the first time in sixteen years, Danae was being open with her mother about how worried she was for her future and how much stress she was under to conform to what everyone else wanted of her. It was a great moment of vulnerability for the Stravos girl and it was one that would have never had happened if this trust hadn’t been reestablished between the pair in recent weeks. Instead of clamming shut like she normally did, this safe spot her mother had created by being gentle with her skittish daughter encouraged the girl to keep speaking, “ Rafail always says as much whenever we cross paths. He can’t go five minutes without making some comment about how awful I am. Plus no one ever says nice things about me like they do with Chara. It’s like I’m not even there sometimes.”
The tears from earlier were beginning to well in her eyes again as Danae realized that she had probably said too much. As an extremely private girl who had learned from a young age to hide what she loved away from the world, openly admitting that she saw herself as highly flawed and unworthy of even the most simple of praises took a lot from her. It was such a huge leap for the girl, done entirely on impulse because her mind couldn’t comprehend that what her mother said was a good thing -- even in the glaring light of not being the perfect little housewife everyone wanted her to be.
In her mind, she was useless and she had accepted it for so long that anything else couldn’t be true. Not when it came to the Athenian tomboy.
“ Sorry.” She quietly said after a moment, fully aware that she probably ruined what was supposed to be a touching moment from the mother who was trying so desperately to connect with the girl who was intent on pushing her away. At least now, Circenia would have some sort of insight into why Danae was never keen on trying to be the girl society expected her to be. If her mother could read between the lines, she would finally see that any attempt to get her into makeup and falling like with what happened with the blush, drudged up unpleasant memories and connotations with the whole affair. That it only worked to solidify the fears Danae let rule her life without fully realizing how damaging they were.
Hopefully, there was still a chance to heal the scars that had formed.
A peaceful silence fell over the pair as the words exchanged lingered over the pair. Danae tried to dismiss them, falling back onto her preferred method of ignoring these things as Circenia pulled out a bow. The youngest Stravos didn’t protest as it was woven into her hair, pulling it back like her old braid had been styled. It was comforting in a way to feel that familiar tug at the back of her skull, even though it wasn’t as strong or as heavy as the old-style had been. That alone had made the accessory acceptable in Danae’s eyes… Though she could have done without the flashy twists or shimmers of gold.
Danae reached up to touch the style when her mother declared it complete. Her fingertips lightly brushed against the curls in the ribbon as she made sure that the style was secure. It had to be as Danae didn’t have the skills to recreate it should the mini braids that held it in place fell loose during the course of the day. Satisfied and truly grateful for how beautifully her mother had managed to salvage the rat’s nest that her hair had once been; Danae turned about in her seat so she could actually look at her mother rather than just her reflection in the mirror. In truth, the girl was still vulnerable from admitting her insecurities so the small comfort of having her hair done by someone who knew what they were doing… it meant a lot to Danae. Truly.
That much was shown when Danae quietly murmured with tears of gratefulness welling in her eyes, spurred on by the earlier conversation, “ Thank you.” The girl was also overcome with the strange urge to hug her mother, something she hadn’t done in years. However, even that might be too much for the girl who was more cat than human when it came to displaying her emotions. So, she awkwardly turned back around, trying to ignore the urge in fear of overdoing the fragile trust that had been built between the pair.
Luckily her mother offered a distraction by moving to fix the blotch of makeup that had been forgotten up until this moment. Danae watched carefully as her mother showed her how to properly load blush onto the horsehair brush. Her mouth formed into a small o shape as a small bloom of embarrassed red blossomed on her cheeks when she saw Circe tap the brush on the side to knock the excess powder off. She had stupidly forgotten to do that step. Maybe if she had remembered her mistake wouldn’t have been so bad. But she knew better now at least.
She didn’t protest when her mother attempted to fix the mess and Danae allowed her to tilt her head about as her mother tried to find the light. It was so strange how willing Danae was to let her mother do this sort of thing as just a few weeks prior, the girl would have recoiled if her mother had tried to touch her. Now she was completely relaxed under her fingertips and had to fight the urge to chuckle as the skilled circular motions tickled Danae’s skin. The girl watched her mother work out of the corner of her eyes, making careful note of how Circenia did it so she wouldn’t mess up again.
When her mother finished, she nodded as she noticed the difference. (She may have made some comment if it wasn’t difficult to talk with her chin being manipulated by the older woman.) It was subtle, but there. She was still marveling at how much it changed how her whole face looked when her mother released her grip and handed Danae the tools once again. The girl accepted them with shaky hands, more nervous about being able to match what her mother had done given the woman had forty years of experience on Danae.
Still, she had come this far so she wasn’t going to back out now. Carefully, she loaded up the brush with the makeup and made a point to tap it on the side of the cannister before she brought it anywhere near her face. As she was doing this crucial step to avoid a disaster like what had occurred earlier, she listened intently to the story of Circenia’s own first time trying blush. Danae couldn’t help laughing aloud when her mother described how bad her own makeup skills had been. Even though it was in somewhat poor taste, it was a refreshing noise as it had been so long since Danae had laughed like this. It was the kind of one that started deep in her belly and caused a hand to fly up to her mouth in order to stifle it before her mother took offense.
“ I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Danae hastily apologized as she calmed herself down from the hysterics. Once she could breathe again, she further questioned her mother about the story, “ I’m sorry, I just couldn’t imagine it. It just doesn’t seem right to think of you not being skilled at this sort of thing. But did grandmother really let you do that?” Danae didn’t know much about Lady Nefeli and close she may or may not have been with her own daughters. Who knows maybe there were parallels between the two mother-daughter pairs?
However, with the stories and other distractions out of the way, Danae turned back to the mirror in order to get attempt number two over and done with. Carefully imitating how her mother did it, Danae managed to avoid another makeup explosion as she applied the blush and when she pulled the brush away it wasn’t half bad. Granted, it still looked kind of like the apples that Circenia spoke of, but despite its brightness, it was blended unevenly across the cheekbone. She just had too much on the brush.
Glancing back at her mother, Danae winced slightly as she asked the woman for her verdict, “ Well, how did I do?”
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Danae didn’t know how to react to her mother’s calm demeanor. It was just so out of character for what the girl had come to expect that it temporarily brought her pause -- stopping the tears in her eyes before they could truly take hold. Circenia was right, that the fiasco on her cheek wasn’t that much of a disaster in the grand scheme of things, but Danae had grown so used to the Stravos matriarch reacting in a certain way that her mind already built itself up into a tizzy over the red splotch. It was a coping mechanism of sorts. As strange as it seemed, already being worked up before the usual litany of frustrated, biting comments that would come from Circenia wouldn’t sting quite as much. That was what Danae was used to. Comments said so offhandedly that her mother barely remembers that she had said them at all, but the harsh words would remain with her for days, making it impossible for Danae to reattempt whatever she had floundered with in the first place.
But those comments never came.
Instead, Circenia murmured reassurances to the girl as she took away the offending blush from Danae and set aside for the moment. For a moment, Danae was almost afraid to glance up at the other woman through the mirror before them. A small part of her was sure that even though the woman’s words had been kind, there would be some sort of pointed glare waiting for her. It was just so out of place for Circenia to not scold the child for making a mess or not getting it right, that it just seemed like there had to be some catch to the gentle reminders that no one got this sort of thing right the first time they tried. However, the lack of even the slightest hint of displeasure from her mother made it clear that it wasn’t going to happen. “ You and Chara make it look so easy though.” Danae finally muttered in response with a small grin forced onto her face, if only as a way to keep the mistake from getting to her.
It would be so easy for this sort of thing to get to her. Danae’s self-confidence had been shot to bits since the early days of puberty. That was when it became clear that Danae was not going to turn overnight into the stunning beauty that her sister was. That had also been around the period where those who she knew started caring less about the brilliance of Danae’s mind and grew more concerned about the traits she wanted in a future husband. Gifts no longer consisted of books, but instead of perfumes, jewels, and bolts of bright cloth -- none of which Danae would ever wear. Seemingly overnight, the world’s expectation of her changed while the girl stayed very much the same. She was not the demure woman they wanted her to be. She was still the girl who wanted to dabble in the fields that would remain off-limits to her because she had the misfortune of not being a boy.
Her unwillingness to submit to a life she had no desire to lead made her a failure in the eyes of others. Even if it wasn’t true, Danae had no way of knowing the difference. Certain men like her cousin Rafail of Marikas made a point of mentioning her shortcomings at every meeting -- even going as far as openly pitying the man who would be unfortunate enough to call Danae their bride. The disappointment was also clear in every interaction between the mother-daughter pair before this moment. The reaction that Danae had feared did not come from any sort of irrationality, but instead the strife that came from Danae trying to hide in her father’s office whenever Circenia tried to force the girl into a gaudy outfit. She knew that she was not the catch that Chara was or the perfect daughter her mother wished that she would be. Danae would never be that girl. Not when her nose was always in a book and her finger counting coins. But the pressure to be that young woman was always there.
It was crushing Danae.
She could barely hold the weight of such unattainable expectations on her shoulders. Danae could brush off comments in the moment and quickly run to hide among the things that she was good at. She could pretend that it didn’t bother her that no one seemed to be proud of who she was outside of her father -- but even he had his moments. But it did. It did so heavily that it made Danae bitter and spiteful as a defense mechanism. It was easier to push people away so that she would never have to confront how much of a failure she was. It was simpler to assume the worst and never be let down when she was inevitably told that she wasn’t as pretty as her sister, she’d make a terrible wife, or she had to give up the few things in life that made her happy beyond anything else.
Never before had she considered that it was okay to fail. That it was alright to mess up and learn from the mistakes that she made.
She had to confront this though when her mother gathered about the loose locks that had fallen out of place. As Circenia’s hands rearranged the short mop, Danae felt completely overwhelmed by the praise that was lauded onto her. It didn’t seem to be true, especially from her mother. How could the woman who had been so laser-focused for years to make Danae embrace her non-existant feminine side now be commending her intelligence and determination? It seemed to be some sort of cruel joke being played on her by the gods by allowing her to get her hopes up. It would be fitting, wouldn’t it, for them to pull the rug out from her if she allowed herself to believe the words that her mother spoke.
That nagging voice of self-doubt didn’t want to let Danae have the chance to be hurt like that. Instantly, out of sheer self-preserving instinct, Danae dismissed her mother’s words with a hasty statement, “ But I should know how to do this. There are so many things I should be able to do perfectly like you or Chara, but I can’t.” There was a clear tone of frustration present in her voice as her insecurities came bubbling to the surface once again. “ And what’s the point of being smart or strong when everyone wants me to be a pretty little doll?” Although her words may inflammatory in some instances, at this moment they were dripping with despair, making her mental state plain for her mother to see.
For the first time in sixteen years, Danae was being open with her mother about how worried she was for her future and how much stress she was under to conform to what everyone else wanted of her. It was a great moment of vulnerability for the Stravos girl and it was one that would have never had happened if this trust hadn’t been reestablished between the pair in recent weeks. Instead of clamming shut like she normally did, this safe spot her mother had created by being gentle with her skittish daughter encouraged the girl to keep speaking, “ Rafail always says as much whenever we cross paths. He can’t go five minutes without making some comment about how awful I am. Plus no one ever says nice things about me like they do with Chara. It’s like I’m not even there sometimes.”
The tears from earlier were beginning to well in her eyes again as Danae realized that she had probably said too much. As an extremely private girl who had learned from a young age to hide what she loved away from the world, openly admitting that she saw herself as highly flawed and unworthy of even the most simple of praises took a lot from her. It was such a huge leap for the girl, done entirely on impulse because her mind couldn’t comprehend that what her mother said was a good thing -- even in the glaring light of not being the perfect little housewife everyone wanted her to be.
In her mind, she was useless and she had accepted it for so long that anything else couldn’t be true. Not when it came to the Athenian tomboy.
“ Sorry.” She quietly said after a moment, fully aware that she probably ruined what was supposed to be a touching moment from the mother who was trying so desperately to connect with the girl who was intent on pushing her away. At least now, Circenia would have some sort of insight into why Danae was never keen on trying to be the girl society expected her to be. If her mother could read between the lines, she would finally see that any attempt to get her into makeup and falling like with what happened with the blush, drudged up unpleasant memories and connotations with the whole affair. That it only worked to solidify the fears Danae let rule her life without fully realizing how damaging they were.
Hopefully, there was still a chance to heal the scars that had formed.
A peaceful silence fell over the pair as the words exchanged lingered over the pair. Danae tried to dismiss them, falling back onto her preferred method of ignoring these things as Circenia pulled out a bow. The youngest Stravos didn’t protest as it was woven into her hair, pulling it back like her old braid had been styled. It was comforting in a way to feel that familiar tug at the back of her skull, even though it wasn’t as strong or as heavy as the old-style had been. That alone had made the accessory acceptable in Danae’s eyes… Though she could have done without the flashy twists or shimmers of gold.
Danae reached up to touch the style when her mother declared it complete. Her fingertips lightly brushed against the curls in the ribbon as she made sure that the style was secure. It had to be as Danae didn’t have the skills to recreate it should the mini braids that held it in place fell loose during the course of the day. Satisfied and truly grateful for how beautifully her mother had managed to salvage the rat’s nest that her hair had once been; Danae turned about in her seat so she could actually look at her mother rather than just her reflection in the mirror. In truth, the girl was still vulnerable from admitting her insecurities so the small comfort of having her hair done by someone who knew what they were doing… it meant a lot to Danae. Truly.
That much was shown when Danae quietly murmured with tears of gratefulness welling in her eyes, spurred on by the earlier conversation, “ Thank you.” The girl was also overcome with the strange urge to hug her mother, something she hadn’t done in years. However, even that might be too much for the girl who was more cat than human when it came to displaying her emotions. So, she awkwardly turned back around, trying to ignore the urge in fear of overdoing the fragile trust that had been built between the pair.
Luckily her mother offered a distraction by moving to fix the blotch of makeup that had been forgotten up until this moment. Danae watched carefully as her mother showed her how to properly load blush onto the horsehair brush. Her mouth formed into a small o shape as a small bloom of embarrassed red blossomed on her cheeks when she saw Circe tap the brush on the side to knock the excess powder off. She had stupidly forgotten to do that step. Maybe if she had remembered her mistake wouldn’t have been so bad. But she knew better now at least.
She didn’t protest when her mother attempted to fix the mess and Danae allowed her to tilt her head about as her mother tried to find the light. It was so strange how willing Danae was to let her mother do this sort of thing as just a few weeks prior, the girl would have recoiled if her mother had tried to touch her. Now she was completely relaxed under her fingertips and had to fight the urge to chuckle as the skilled circular motions tickled Danae’s skin. The girl watched her mother work out of the corner of her eyes, making careful note of how Circenia did it so she wouldn’t mess up again.
When her mother finished, she nodded as she noticed the difference. (She may have made some comment if it wasn’t difficult to talk with her chin being manipulated by the older woman.) It was subtle, but there. She was still marveling at how much it changed how her whole face looked when her mother released her grip and handed Danae the tools once again. The girl accepted them with shaky hands, more nervous about being able to match what her mother had done given the woman had forty years of experience on Danae.
Still, she had come this far so she wasn’t going to back out now. Carefully, she loaded up the brush with the makeup and made a point to tap it on the side of the cannister before she brought it anywhere near her face. As she was doing this crucial step to avoid a disaster like what had occurred earlier, she listened intently to the story of Circenia’s own first time trying blush. Danae couldn’t help laughing aloud when her mother described how bad her own makeup skills had been. Even though it was in somewhat poor taste, it was a refreshing noise as it had been so long since Danae had laughed like this. It was the kind of one that started deep in her belly and caused a hand to fly up to her mouth in order to stifle it before her mother took offense.
“ I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Danae hastily apologized as she calmed herself down from the hysterics. Once she could breathe again, she further questioned her mother about the story, “ I’m sorry, I just couldn’t imagine it. It just doesn’t seem right to think of you not being skilled at this sort of thing. But did grandmother really let you do that?” Danae didn’t know much about Lady Nefeli and close she may or may not have been with her own daughters. Who knows maybe there were parallels between the two mother-daughter pairs?
However, with the stories and other distractions out of the way, Danae turned back to the mirror in order to get attempt number two over and done with. Carefully imitating how her mother did it, Danae managed to avoid another makeup explosion as she applied the blush and when she pulled the brush away it wasn’t half bad. Granted, it still looked kind of like the apples that Circenia spoke of, but despite its brightness, it was blended unevenly across the cheekbone. She just had too much on the brush.
Glancing back at her mother, Danae winced slightly as she asked the woman for her verdict, “ Well, how did I do?”
Danae didn’t know how to react to her mother’s calm demeanor. It was just so out of character for what the girl had come to expect that it temporarily brought her pause -- stopping the tears in her eyes before they could truly take hold. Circenia was right, that the fiasco on her cheek wasn’t that much of a disaster in the grand scheme of things, but Danae had grown so used to the Stravos matriarch reacting in a certain way that her mind already built itself up into a tizzy over the red splotch. It was a coping mechanism of sorts. As strange as it seemed, already being worked up before the usual litany of frustrated, biting comments that would come from Circenia wouldn’t sting quite as much. That was what Danae was used to. Comments said so offhandedly that her mother barely remembers that she had said them at all, but the harsh words would remain with her for days, making it impossible for Danae to reattempt whatever she had floundered with in the first place.
But those comments never came.
Instead, Circenia murmured reassurances to the girl as she took away the offending blush from Danae and set aside for the moment. For a moment, Danae was almost afraid to glance up at the other woman through the mirror before them. A small part of her was sure that even though the woman’s words had been kind, there would be some sort of pointed glare waiting for her. It was just so out of place for Circenia to not scold the child for making a mess or not getting it right, that it just seemed like there had to be some catch to the gentle reminders that no one got this sort of thing right the first time they tried. However, the lack of even the slightest hint of displeasure from her mother made it clear that it wasn’t going to happen. “ You and Chara make it look so easy though.” Danae finally muttered in response with a small grin forced onto her face, if only as a way to keep the mistake from getting to her.
It would be so easy for this sort of thing to get to her. Danae’s self-confidence had been shot to bits since the early days of puberty. That was when it became clear that Danae was not going to turn overnight into the stunning beauty that her sister was. That had also been around the period where those who she knew started caring less about the brilliance of Danae’s mind and grew more concerned about the traits she wanted in a future husband. Gifts no longer consisted of books, but instead of perfumes, jewels, and bolts of bright cloth -- none of which Danae would ever wear. Seemingly overnight, the world’s expectation of her changed while the girl stayed very much the same. She was not the demure woman they wanted her to be. She was still the girl who wanted to dabble in the fields that would remain off-limits to her because she had the misfortune of not being a boy.
Her unwillingness to submit to a life she had no desire to lead made her a failure in the eyes of others. Even if it wasn’t true, Danae had no way of knowing the difference. Certain men like her cousin Rafail of Marikas made a point of mentioning her shortcomings at every meeting -- even going as far as openly pitying the man who would be unfortunate enough to call Danae their bride. The disappointment was also clear in every interaction between the mother-daughter pair before this moment. The reaction that Danae had feared did not come from any sort of irrationality, but instead the strife that came from Danae trying to hide in her father’s office whenever Circenia tried to force the girl into a gaudy outfit. She knew that she was not the catch that Chara was or the perfect daughter her mother wished that she would be. Danae would never be that girl. Not when her nose was always in a book and her finger counting coins. But the pressure to be that young woman was always there.
It was crushing Danae.
She could barely hold the weight of such unattainable expectations on her shoulders. Danae could brush off comments in the moment and quickly run to hide among the things that she was good at. She could pretend that it didn’t bother her that no one seemed to be proud of who she was outside of her father -- but even he had his moments. But it did. It did so heavily that it made Danae bitter and spiteful as a defense mechanism. It was easier to push people away so that she would never have to confront how much of a failure she was. It was simpler to assume the worst and never be let down when she was inevitably told that she wasn’t as pretty as her sister, she’d make a terrible wife, or she had to give up the few things in life that made her happy beyond anything else.
Never before had she considered that it was okay to fail. That it was alright to mess up and learn from the mistakes that she made.
She had to confront this though when her mother gathered about the loose locks that had fallen out of place. As Circenia’s hands rearranged the short mop, Danae felt completely overwhelmed by the praise that was lauded onto her. It didn’t seem to be true, especially from her mother. How could the woman who had been so laser-focused for years to make Danae embrace her non-existant feminine side now be commending her intelligence and determination? It seemed to be some sort of cruel joke being played on her by the gods by allowing her to get her hopes up. It would be fitting, wouldn’t it, for them to pull the rug out from her if she allowed herself to believe the words that her mother spoke.
That nagging voice of self-doubt didn’t want to let Danae have the chance to be hurt like that. Instantly, out of sheer self-preserving instinct, Danae dismissed her mother’s words with a hasty statement, “ But I should know how to do this. There are so many things I should be able to do perfectly like you or Chara, but I can’t.” There was a clear tone of frustration present in her voice as her insecurities came bubbling to the surface once again. “ And what’s the point of being smart or strong when everyone wants me to be a pretty little doll?” Although her words may inflammatory in some instances, at this moment they were dripping with despair, making her mental state plain for her mother to see.
For the first time in sixteen years, Danae was being open with her mother about how worried she was for her future and how much stress she was under to conform to what everyone else wanted of her. It was a great moment of vulnerability for the Stravos girl and it was one that would have never had happened if this trust hadn’t been reestablished between the pair in recent weeks. Instead of clamming shut like she normally did, this safe spot her mother had created by being gentle with her skittish daughter encouraged the girl to keep speaking, “ Rafail always says as much whenever we cross paths. He can’t go five minutes without making some comment about how awful I am. Plus no one ever says nice things about me like they do with Chara. It’s like I’m not even there sometimes.”
The tears from earlier were beginning to well in her eyes again as Danae realized that she had probably said too much. As an extremely private girl who had learned from a young age to hide what she loved away from the world, openly admitting that she saw herself as highly flawed and unworthy of even the most simple of praises took a lot from her. It was such a huge leap for the girl, done entirely on impulse because her mind couldn’t comprehend that what her mother said was a good thing -- even in the glaring light of not being the perfect little housewife everyone wanted her to be.
In her mind, she was useless and she had accepted it for so long that anything else couldn’t be true. Not when it came to the Athenian tomboy.
“ Sorry.” She quietly said after a moment, fully aware that she probably ruined what was supposed to be a touching moment from the mother who was trying so desperately to connect with the girl who was intent on pushing her away. At least now, Circenia would have some sort of insight into why Danae was never keen on trying to be the girl society expected her to be. If her mother could read between the lines, she would finally see that any attempt to get her into makeup and falling like with what happened with the blush, drudged up unpleasant memories and connotations with the whole affair. That it only worked to solidify the fears Danae let rule her life without fully realizing how damaging they were.
Hopefully, there was still a chance to heal the scars that had formed.
A peaceful silence fell over the pair as the words exchanged lingered over the pair. Danae tried to dismiss them, falling back onto her preferred method of ignoring these things as Circenia pulled out a bow. The youngest Stravos didn’t protest as it was woven into her hair, pulling it back like her old braid had been styled. It was comforting in a way to feel that familiar tug at the back of her skull, even though it wasn’t as strong or as heavy as the old-style had been. That alone had made the accessory acceptable in Danae’s eyes… Though she could have done without the flashy twists or shimmers of gold.
Danae reached up to touch the style when her mother declared it complete. Her fingertips lightly brushed against the curls in the ribbon as she made sure that the style was secure. It had to be as Danae didn’t have the skills to recreate it should the mini braids that held it in place fell loose during the course of the day. Satisfied and truly grateful for how beautifully her mother had managed to salvage the rat’s nest that her hair had once been; Danae turned about in her seat so she could actually look at her mother rather than just her reflection in the mirror. In truth, the girl was still vulnerable from admitting her insecurities so the small comfort of having her hair done by someone who knew what they were doing… it meant a lot to Danae. Truly.
That much was shown when Danae quietly murmured with tears of gratefulness welling in her eyes, spurred on by the earlier conversation, “ Thank you.” The girl was also overcome with the strange urge to hug her mother, something she hadn’t done in years. However, even that might be too much for the girl who was more cat than human when it came to displaying her emotions. So, she awkwardly turned back around, trying to ignore the urge in fear of overdoing the fragile trust that had been built between the pair.
Luckily her mother offered a distraction by moving to fix the blotch of makeup that had been forgotten up until this moment. Danae watched carefully as her mother showed her how to properly load blush onto the horsehair brush. Her mouth formed into a small o shape as a small bloom of embarrassed red blossomed on her cheeks when she saw Circe tap the brush on the side to knock the excess powder off. She had stupidly forgotten to do that step. Maybe if she had remembered her mistake wouldn’t have been so bad. But she knew better now at least.
She didn’t protest when her mother attempted to fix the mess and Danae allowed her to tilt her head about as her mother tried to find the light. It was so strange how willing Danae was to let her mother do this sort of thing as just a few weeks prior, the girl would have recoiled if her mother had tried to touch her. Now she was completely relaxed under her fingertips and had to fight the urge to chuckle as the skilled circular motions tickled Danae’s skin. The girl watched her mother work out of the corner of her eyes, making careful note of how Circenia did it so she wouldn’t mess up again.
When her mother finished, she nodded as she noticed the difference. (She may have made some comment if it wasn’t difficult to talk with her chin being manipulated by the older woman.) It was subtle, but there. She was still marveling at how much it changed how her whole face looked when her mother released her grip and handed Danae the tools once again. The girl accepted them with shaky hands, more nervous about being able to match what her mother had done given the woman had forty years of experience on Danae.
Still, she had come this far so she wasn’t going to back out now. Carefully, she loaded up the brush with the makeup and made a point to tap it on the side of the cannister before she brought it anywhere near her face. As she was doing this crucial step to avoid a disaster like what had occurred earlier, she listened intently to the story of Circenia’s own first time trying blush. Danae couldn’t help laughing aloud when her mother described how bad her own makeup skills had been. Even though it was in somewhat poor taste, it was a refreshing noise as it had been so long since Danae had laughed like this. It was the kind of one that started deep in her belly and caused a hand to fly up to her mouth in order to stifle it before her mother took offense.
“ I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Danae hastily apologized as she calmed herself down from the hysterics. Once she could breathe again, she further questioned her mother about the story, “ I’m sorry, I just couldn’t imagine it. It just doesn’t seem right to think of you not being skilled at this sort of thing. But did grandmother really let you do that?” Danae didn’t know much about Lady Nefeli and close she may or may not have been with her own daughters. Who knows maybe there were parallels between the two mother-daughter pairs?
However, with the stories and other distractions out of the way, Danae turned back to the mirror in order to get attempt number two over and done with. Carefully imitating how her mother did it, Danae managed to avoid another makeup explosion as she applied the blush and when she pulled the brush away it wasn’t half bad. Granted, it still looked kind of like the apples that Circenia spoke of, but despite its brightness, it was blended unevenly across the cheekbone. She just had too much on the brush.
Glancing back at her mother, Danae winced slightly as she asked the woman for her verdict, “ Well, how did I do?”
But I should know how to do this. There are so many things I should be able to do perfectly like you or Chara, but I can’t.
Circenia’s busy hands paused at her daughter’s outburst, biting her lip for the space of a moment while her fingers came to rest on the girl’s shoulders. “You should know how to do this, you’re right.” Her response was mild and held none of the malice that might’ve been expected. Instead, it was simple and blunt, a statement of fact and not one of remonstration. “And maybe it’s my fault that you don’t. Perhaps I pushed you too hard and used force where I should have asked instead. Chara always took to these things so naturally, I suppose I just expected that you would too, even with all the evidence to the contrary.” One of the hands on Danae’s shoulders reached up to briefly stroke over her hair before it settled back down again. “It’s not fair to compare yourself to your sister, and it was never fair of me to do it, either. You’re very different women, and I never should have tried to force you into a mold you didn’t fit.”
It was the closest thing to an apology her daughter was going to get from her, but the fact that she’d admitted maybe she was wrong at all was shocking, to say the least. “But, unfortunately, this is the world we live in, and we must comport ourselves with the honor that befits women of our station. No matter that it might not be what we want, we must perform our duty. At least where we can be seen.”
Lightly squeezing Danae’s shoulder, she added, “That doesn’t mean you can’t be smart or strong. Do you think anyone would dare to claim I was stupid or weak, hm?” Chuckling, she winked. “And yet, I’m still what one might call a ‘proper’ woman.” Letting her mirth dissolve, Circenia’s face sobered. “I know it’s a hard path to walk, Danae, and that the world’s expectations seem too great. While I took to many womanly pursuits quite well, I’ve had many traits that most would consider… unladylike. I’ve always been very outspoken, which might come as a shock to you…” Here, she brightened a little more, the tease clear in her words. “And believe it not, that trait has been tempered over the years. I was exceedingly fortunate to marry a man who encouraged such outspokenness rather than shunning it. Unfortunately, we can’t all be so lucky.”
Squeezing her daughter’s shoulders one last time, the princess let her hands drop. “The point I’m trying to make is use your strength and your smarts to trick the world into what they want to see. Wear the mask when you have to, but don’t let it dull the brilliance beneath. They will forever underestimate you, and that, my darling, will be your biggest advantage.”
It was the soundest advice she could give her daughter in a world that actively rejected the traits that made Danae so unique. Would that her youngest had been born a man instead, and they wouldn’t be having this conversation. She (or he) would have been lauded instead, praised for a shrewd intelligence that outshone both of her siblings and, at times, even her parents. But the fates are cruel, and such was not to be. The gods imposed limitations on them all, and they would do what was necessary to work around them.
When Danae muttered a quick ‘sorry’ for speaking out, the Stravos matriarch shook her head—perhaps a bit more vehemently than necessary. “Never apologize for who or what you are, Danae. The only thing you should ever apologize for is not working to make yourself even better.”
The pair lapsed back into silence as Circenia braided her youngest’s hair, smiling and stepping back when she was finished. She watched Danae admire herself in the mirror, momentarily overcome by emotion that was all but palpable to the princess. When she turned to thank her, Circenia wanted nothing more than to pull the girl into her arms and hold her, longing to keep and protect her from the world that would seek to hurt her. But such times were past, and Danae was practically a woman grown. No matter what she might wish, the princess’s protection had its limits, and her children had to live their own lives.
But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t meddle.
Instead of hugging her, Circenia simply cupped Danae’s chin, a simple gesture of affection that spoke volumes. She didn’t speak another word aloud, just gently squeezed her jaw and let go—that alone said everything she needed to say and more. She was still too afraid Danae would bolt to risk anything more effusive than what she already had.
The mood soon lightened at the sound of Danae’s laughter at the story that followed, the corner of Circenia’s mouth raising in a smirk. “Believe it not, Danae, I was not born perfect,” she informed her with a chuckle. “Though if you ever ask me to repeat that outside of this room, I will refuse, and I will firmly assert I never said it in the first place.” Flashing a grin, she continued, “But yes, my mother did let me do things like that. She thought if I made my own mistakes, I’d be less likely to make them again, and she was right. With the laughter and snide remarks that followed my apple cheeks, I quickly learned a better technique and asked for help instead of trying to muddle through it on my own.”
Watching as Danae went to correct her own error with the blush, Circenia nodded when the girl turned to show her the final result. “It’s… better,” she encouraged with a soft laugh. “Not perfect, but a marked improvement from the first try. Next time, try tapping out the brush a little more and then blend it in circles.” Looking at her cheeks thoughtfully, she added, “Maybe even a lighter color to start with. Like I said before, less is more.”
Searching through the various jars on her table, she held several of them near Danae’s face before settling on a much lighter tone that was closer to peach than pink. “This one would suit your skin tone very well, I think. And wouldn’t be as garish if you overdo it a little.”
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But I should know how to do this. There are so many things I should be able to do perfectly like you or Chara, but I can’t.
Circenia’s busy hands paused at her daughter’s outburst, biting her lip for the space of a moment while her fingers came to rest on the girl’s shoulders. “You should know how to do this, you’re right.” Her response was mild and held none of the malice that might’ve been expected. Instead, it was simple and blunt, a statement of fact and not one of remonstration. “And maybe it’s my fault that you don’t. Perhaps I pushed you too hard and used force where I should have asked instead. Chara always took to these things so naturally, I suppose I just expected that you would too, even with all the evidence to the contrary.” One of the hands on Danae’s shoulders reached up to briefly stroke over her hair before it settled back down again. “It’s not fair to compare yourself to your sister, and it was never fair of me to do it, either. You’re very different women, and I never should have tried to force you into a mold you didn’t fit.”
It was the closest thing to an apology her daughter was going to get from her, but the fact that she’d admitted maybe she was wrong at all was shocking, to say the least. “But, unfortunately, this is the world we live in, and we must comport ourselves with the honor that befits women of our station. No matter that it might not be what we want, we must perform our duty. At least where we can be seen.”
Lightly squeezing Danae’s shoulder, she added, “That doesn’t mean you can’t be smart or strong. Do you think anyone would dare to claim I was stupid or weak, hm?” Chuckling, she winked. “And yet, I’m still what one might call a ‘proper’ woman.” Letting her mirth dissolve, Circenia’s face sobered. “I know it’s a hard path to walk, Danae, and that the world’s expectations seem too great. While I took to many womanly pursuits quite well, I’ve had many traits that most would consider… unladylike. I’ve always been very outspoken, which might come as a shock to you…” Here, she brightened a little more, the tease clear in her words. “And believe it not, that trait has been tempered over the years. I was exceedingly fortunate to marry a man who encouraged such outspokenness rather than shunning it. Unfortunately, we can’t all be so lucky.”
Squeezing her daughter’s shoulders one last time, the princess let her hands drop. “The point I’m trying to make is use your strength and your smarts to trick the world into what they want to see. Wear the mask when you have to, but don’t let it dull the brilliance beneath. They will forever underestimate you, and that, my darling, will be your biggest advantage.”
It was the soundest advice she could give her daughter in a world that actively rejected the traits that made Danae so unique. Would that her youngest had been born a man instead, and they wouldn’t be having this conversation. She (or he) would have been lauded instead, praised for a shrewd intelligence that outshone both of her siblings and, at times, even her parents. But the fates are cruel, and such was not to be. The gods imposed limitations on them all, and they would do what was necessary to work around them.
When Danae muttered a quick ‘sorry’ for speaking out, the Stravos matriarch shook her head—perhaps a bit more vehemently than necessary. “Never apologize for who or what you are, Danae. The only thing you should ever apologize for is not working to make yourself even better.”
The pair lapsed back into silence as Circenia braided her youngest’s hair, smiling and stepping back when she was finished. She watched Danae admire herself in the mirror, momentarily overcome by emotion that was all but palpable to the princess. When she turned to thank her, Circenia wanted nothing more than to pull the girl into her arms and hold her, longing to keep and protect her from the world that would seek to hurt her. But such times were past, and Danae was practically a woman grown. No matter what she might wish, the princess’s protection had its limits, and her children had to live their own lives.
But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t meddle.
Instead of hugging her, Circenia simply cupped Danae’s chin, a simple gesture of affection that spoke volumes. She didn’t speak another word aloud, just gently squeezed her jaw and let go—that alone said everything she needed to say and more. She was still too afraid Danae would bolt to risk anything more effusive than what she already had.
The mood soon lightened at the sound of Danae’s laughter at the story that followed, the corner of Circenia’s mouth raising in a smirk. “Believe it not, Danae, I was not born perfect,” she informed her with a chuckle. “Though if you ever ask me to repeat that outside of this room, I will refuse, and I will firmly assert I never said it in the first place.” Flashing a grin, she continued, “But yes, my mother did let me do things like that. She thought if I made my own mistakes, I’d be less likely to make them again, and she was right. With the laughter and snide remarks that followed my apple cheeks, I quickly learned a better technique and asked for help instead of trying to muddle through it on my own.”
Watching as Danae went to correct her own error with the blush, Circenia nodded when the girl turned to show her the final result. “It’s… better,” she encouraged with a soft laugh. “Not perfect, but a marked improvement from the first try. Next time, try tapping out the brush a little more and then blend it in circles.” Looking at her cheeks thoughtfully, she added, “Maybe even a lighter color to start with. Like I said before, less is more.”
Searching through the various jars on her table, she held several of them near Danae’s face before settling on a much lighter tone that was closer to peach than pink. “This one would suit your skin tone very well, I think. And wouldn’t be as garish if you overdo it a little.”
But I should know how to do this. There are so many things I should be able to do perfectly like you or Chara, but I can’t.
Circenia’s busy hands paused at her daughter’s outburst, biting her lip for the space of a moment while her fingers came to rest on the girl’s shoulders. “You should know how to do this, you’re right.” Her response was mild and held none of the malice that might’ve been expected. Instead, it was simple and blunt, a statement of fact and not one of remonstration. “And maybe it’s my fault that you don’t. Perhaps I pushed you too hard and used force where I should have asked instead. Chara always took to these things so naturally, I suppose I just expected that you would too, even with all the evidence to the contrary.” One of the hands on Danae’s shoulders reached up to briefly stroke over her hair before it settled back down again. “It’s not fair to compare yourself to your sister, and it was never fair of me to do it, either. You’re very different women, and I never should have tried to force you into a mold you didn’t fit.”
It was the closest thing to an apology her daughter was going to get from her, but the fact that she’d admitted maybe she was wrong at all was shocking, to say the least. “But, unfortunately, this is the world we live in, and we must comport ourselves with the honor that befits women of our station. No matter that it might not be what we want, we must perform our duty. At least where we can be seen.”
Lightly squeezing Danae’s shoulder, she added, “That doesn’t mean you can’t be smart or strong. Do you think anyone would dare to claim I was stupid or weak, hm?” Chuckling, she winked. “And yet, I’m still what one might call a ‘proper’ woman.” Letting her mirth dissolve, Circenia’s face sobered. “I know it’s a hard path to walk, Danae, and that the world’s expectations seem too great. While I took to many womanly pursuits quite well, I’ve had many traits that most would consider… unladylike. I’ve always been very outspoken, which might come as a shock to you…” Here, she brightened a little more, the tease clear in her words. “And believe it not, that trait has been tempered over the years. I was exceedingly fortunate to marry a man who encouraged such outspokenness rather than shunning it. Unfortunately, we can’t all be so lucky.”
Squeezing her daughter’s shoulders one last time, the princess let her hands drop. “The point I’m trying to make is use your strength and your smarts to trick the world into what they want to see. Wear the mask when you have to, but don’t let it dull the brilliance beneath. They will forever underestimate you, and that, my darling, will be your biggest advantage.”
It was the soundest advice she could give her daughter in a world that actively rejected the traits that made Danae so unique. Would that her youngest had been born a man instead, and they wouldn’t be having this conversation. She (or he) would have been lauded instead, praised for a shrewd intelligence that outshone both of her siblings and, at times, even her parents. But the fates are cruel, and such was not to be. The gods imposed limitations on them all, and they would do what was necessary to work around them.
When Danae muttered a quick ‘sorry’ for speaking out, the Stravos matriarch shook her head—perhaps a bit more vehemently than necessary. “Never apologize for who or what you are, Danae. The only thing you should ever apologize for is not working to make yourself even better.”
The pair lapsed back into silence as Circenia braided her youngest’s hair, smiling and stepping back when she was finished. She watched Danae admire herself in the mirror, momentarily overcome by emotion that was all but palpable to the princess. When she turned to thank her, Circenia wanted nothing more than to pull the girl into her arms and hold her, longing to keep and protect her from the world that would seek to hurt her. But such times were past, and Danae was practically a woman grown. No matter what she might wish, the princess’s protection had its limits, and her children had to live their own lives.
But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t meddle.
Instead of hugging her, Circenia simply cupped Danae’s chin, a simple gesture of affection that spoke volumes. She didn’t speak another word aloud, just gently squeezed her jaw and let go—that alone said everything she needed to say and more. She was still too afraid Danae would bolt to risk anything more effusive than what she already had.
The mood soon lightened at the sound of Danae’s laughter at the story that followed, the corner of Circenia’s mouth raising in a smirk. “Believe it not, Danae, I was not born perfect,” she informed her with a chuckle. “Though if you ever ask me to repeat that outside of this room, I will refuse, and I will firmly assert I never said it in the first place.” Flashing a grin, she continued, “But yes, my mother did let me do things like that. She thought if I made my own mistakes, I’d be less likely to make them again, and she was right. With the laughter and snide remarks that followed my apple cheeks, I quickly learned a better technique and asked for help instead of trying to muddle through it on my own.”
Watching as Danae went to correct her own error with the blush, Circenia nodded when the girl turned to show her the final result. “It’s… better,” she encouraged with a soft laugh. “Not perfect, but a marked improvement from the first try. Next time, try tapping out the brush a little more and then blend it in circles.” Looking at her cheeks thoughtfully, she added, “Maybe even a lighter color to start with. Like I said before, less is more.”
Searching through the various jars on her table, she held several of them near Danae’s face before settling on a much lighter tone that was closer to peach than pink. “This one would suit your skin tone very well, I think. And wouldn’t be as garish if you overdo it a little.”
Danae knew that if she was looking for reassurance that her reluctance to take part in courtly things was okay, she was never going to get that from her mother. She should know better. Circenia was the queen of Athenia’s social circles. Danae couldn’t be naive to expect anything else.
That’s why her expression changed so quickly from one of disappointment to one of confusion when Circenia reacted to Danae’s reaction with… kindness? Was her mother feeling alright? This wasn’t like her. Danae didn’t protest though as her mother lavished words of strength and encouragement onto her daughter as she spun the girl a tale of how it was okay to not be perfect. She only drunk the words in, tears welling in her eyes because Danae never expected her mother to say such things. Never in a million years. It touched Danae in ways that the girl couldn’t articulate.
Not until Circenia added an accidental dose of reality that brought the girl right back down to earth after being lifted high by her mother’s words.
“ But what if I am married to that man?” Danae quickly interjected as the nervousness she felt every time her inevitable fate was even approached was written clearly on her face. “ What if he doesn’t like the fact that I’m outspoken, stubborn, and brave like you are? What if he wants me to be that weak girl who dreams of nothing more than being his broodmare?” The girl was speaking at such a fast pace that the words practically tumbled out of her mouth, one right after the other. Her skin was flushed with a bright crimson color and if her mother looked closely, Circe might have been able to notice the ever so slight tremble in her fingers. It was quite plain to see that Danae was just not merely scared like most girls were right when they were on the cusp of whatever life the fates had in store for them.
She was absolutely terrified.
The prospect of being made into a wife was not a happy one for the Stravos girl. No, it was one filled with danger and unwelcome change. Danae was not a naive child anymore. She knew full well that there were only a handful of men out there who were like her father; who would allow the women in his life to bend society’s expectations to their own liking. Keikelius was a rarity in Greece for encouraging Circe to be outspoken and allowing for Danae to follow her own pursuits, as unladylike as they were. She was not foolish enough to believe that the man her parents would eventually choose to be her husband would permit his bride to continue to meddle in the fields of business and finance. Circenia said it herself, they couldn’t all be that lucky.
Even though the girl didn’t know that her mother would be able to sense all this apprehension that flooded Danae, she was sure to fill the woman in with one last muttered statement, “ I’m scared that I’m going to have to be something I’m not. I don’t know if I can do that Mother.” It was obvious that the littlest Stravos would never make a happy housewife. She would not find joy in raising children and maintaining a manor as other women of her stature might. Everyone knew that if that was what the fates had in store for Danae, her misery would be rivaled only by that of Niobe.
However, her fears were abated a bit when her mother continued to speak. Danae’s rapid pulse began to slow as Circenia reminded the girl that it was okay to be the things that society didn’t want her to be -- of course, it would come with strings and she knew full well that she would never be able to be open with what she loved… but maybe she could put more effort into trying to hide her strengths behind a mask. The gods knew she wasn’t very good at as of late, especially whenever she came into contact with those who knew how to push her buttons. Maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with scuffles with the likes of Rafail and Emilia if she could pretend to be that demure girl everyone wanted to be.
Yet, she was still nervous about whether or not she could actually do that. It would be so easy for her to nod her head in agreement and swear to herself that she would try harder to keep what made Danae… well, Danae... behind that mask. It was entirely another thing to succeed in that endeavor. Her temper was quite a thing to be reckoned with. (Her mother would be more than aware of that, given that she had been on the receiving end of her rage more than once.) Even with these doubts lurking in the back of her mind, Danae knew that her mother’s words were true and it was technically possible. It would just be extremely difficult for the girl.
That didn’t stop her from nodding sagely and saying quietly, “ I know, I know. It’s just so difficult to do... ” It would be easier if the little things didn’t get to her or if she was more talented at keeping her anger in check. If she had the cool and collected manner of her older sister, this wouldn’t be an issue. But she wasn’t Chara. She was Danae. The girl would just have to try hard to keep everything behind a mask, like her and only apologize when for when she didn’t do enough at the finish line, not when she first stepped up to the plate.
The least she could do was try.
An odd sereneness settled over the pair as Danae watched her mother work in the mirror. She didn’t know if her mother felt it, but there was an odd sort of tenseness to the air. Danae didn’t know quite how to describe it as she saw Circenia’s fingers carefully weaving what little length Danae had into a small braid, but if she had to, the girl would say that it was almost as if there was something unfinished. It was kind of like if they both witnessed a servant come in and do only half of a routine task, but neither of them wanted to mention that the job was not done. That it was somehow almost worse to acknowledge that things weren’t right. Danae didn’t know what was causing that feeling in her though. Everything was normal. Everything was as it should be for this morning routine that the Stravos women had fallen into.
Something was missing, but Danae didn’t know what it was.
That was until Circenia reached out to grasp her chin. Danae nearly gasped out of shock, but not for the reasons one might expect. The action from her mother wasn’t done out of malice, but instead out of love. It seemed so wrong. Growing up, Danae had never seen this action as something done out of kindness. Her mother had only ever done that whenever Danae had the gall to backchat Circe or when she was really young, she needed to spit something out. It was no different thirteen years later as four simple words seemed to be caught on the tip of her tongue as she looked up at the woman.
Suddenly Danae knew what it was missing from the room and the one thing she desperately needed more than anything in the room. It was something that she didn’t know she had missed in the last few years where teenage angst and fears of the future pushed Danae away from the woman who used to give what she needed freely. Without the fear of Danae fleeing like a skittish rabbit. Something that Danae used to seek out herself when she would run to her mother, leaping up into her arms without even needing to ask for it first. Back before Danae started to really pay attention to the meetings she attended with her father. Before she understood why her sister caked her face in makeup. Before the etiquette lessons and the endless fights over whether Danae would attend court. Back when Danae was not afraid to show her family that she loved them. That they were her entire world and that they filled her heart more than she could ever say.
Back when things were simpler and Danae had the courage to actually say the four words trapped on her tongue as her mother moved away, seemingly oblivious to how her daughter’s eyes were begging her to listen.
Mother.
Hug me.
Please.
These four simple words bounced around Danae’s mind, growing into a steady crescendo with every passing moment that her mother didn’t do the one thing Danae needed. The girl was starving to feel her mother’s touch; to be reminded without words that she was loved and who she was was more than good enough. It would mean more than Circenia would ever know, given how Danae never thought that she would live up to this woman’s expectations. That she would always be a disappointment in her mother’s eyes because of she a boy’s aptitude which would never match what was expected of her exterior. Now she could see that she wasn’t. She never was. The two of them just never knew how to say it. Danae was desperate for the safety and comfort that her mother once provided. More than anything in the world she wanted to feel it again.
That was why when her mother let go, making it clear to Danae that the woman didn’t understand what the girl was trying to say without words; the girl didn’t utter them.
Instead, she acted on them.
Without thinking, Danae turned around slightly in her chair and caught her mother mid-step as she was moving away. Wrapping her arms tightly around Circenia’s waist, Danae buried her face in her mother’s chiton. She was probably getting loose flakes of blush on it, but Danae didn’t care. She didn’t care. Instead, she just squeezed her mother, trying to pour all those years of love that she had denied the woman into her. Without words, she tried to show her mother how she missed little moments like this and that she was sorry that things had gotten to this point, where Circe didn’t feel like she could even hug her own daughter.
How did things get this bad?
“ I know you just told… me not to say I’m sorry... But I am! For everything!” She exclaimed through that light sobs racked her chest. She could only hope that her mother understood what Danae meant by her words because the girl was unable to string any other words together as she drunk in the physical affection that she didn’t know she missed so terribly. Things just had to be right again. Danae couldn’t take another day of being so distant. Not after she finally knew again what she had been missing out on. She couldn’t let this happen again. Not over her dead body.
They stayed like that for a moment before Danae reluctantly pulled away. As much as she needed that hug, she was afraid of overdoing it. Her mother had never been the most touchy-feely woman, after all.
Once the moment passed, Danae and Circe both understood that it was probably best if they didn’t speak about what just happened too heavily, but instead allow the loving atmosphere filled the room as the women tried to keep that feeling from disappearing. Too bad for Circe that sustaining it came at the cost of embarrassing herself in front of her daughter. Danae’s laughs grew louder than they would have been before upon imagining what her mother must have looked like, strutting around the court with the equivalent of two apples on her cheeks. It was so unfathomable that it was comical to the girl.
Luckily, her mother didn’t seem to take offense at the girl’s cheeriness and further elaborated on how she too hadn’t always been the perfect near-goddess of a woman that Danae had always thought her mother to be. Her words pulled another laugh out of the girl as she retorted with a light and airy, “ Well, it’s a good thing you’ve only admitted it to me, mother. If you had told Chara the whole court would have caught wind of it in an hour. How would you ever live it down?” Although her words contained a slight jab at her sister’s expense, they were playful. It was such a stark contrast to the normal scowl and minced words that Danae would have had if her mother had mentioned not being perfect any other time. The girl listened intently to the rest of her mother’s story before she added a statement of her own, “ Well, I’m glad at least my own stubbornness has thus far saved me from that embarrassment.”
The words were just as light and joking as everything else, but that changed when the girl asked her mother with a tone that had just a touch of concern as well as gratitude as she already suspected that she knew what the answer would be, “ You won’t… let me make mistakes like that, will you?” Danae was positive that after all the trouble it took to even get Danae to this point and how tentative her own descent into the world of cosmetics was, that Circe wouldn’t be so cruel as to leave her daughter to fend for herself. Not when both of them knew that one drawback could set Danae hurtling down the wrong path once again.
However, as Danae tried the makeup on, she was surprised by the fact that she didn’t seem to be really all that discouraged by the fact that her mother seemed to think that there was still room for improvement. (Blush truthfully seemed so trivial to everything else that had occurred.) Instead, she merely nodded as her mother gave her critiques and Danae reached for the cloth to wipe her face off and try again.
Taking the blush that her mother offered, Danae took her mother’s advice as she loaded the brush up with the peachy color and tapped it against the cannister several times before it went anywhere near her face. Once it did though, Danae was careful to only do small circles. During the process, she dared to glance up at herself in the mirror and for once the girl smiled at her reflections. She didn’t feel as insecure as she did when she first walked in. Not after her mother had made this into a place of safety once again… plus she would even dare to say that she liked how the blush looked on her cheeks. Circe was right, this color suited her well and instead of looking like she had painted on her, she had the appearance as if she just had a good laugh. (You could hardly see any imperfections!) It was so different than what she was used to… but different was good.
“ Well, how did I do?” Danae said as she turned to Circe with a slight smile dancing on her lips, seeking the approval from her mother that just a few hours ago, the girl never thought that she would get.
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Danae knew that if she was looking for reassurance that her reluctance to take part in courtly things was okay, she was never going to get that from her mother. She should know better. Circenia was the queen of Athenia’s social circles. Danae couldn’t be naive to expect anything else.
That’s why her expression changed so quickly from one of disappointment to one of confusion when Circenia reacted to Danae’s reaction with… kindness? Was her mother feeling alright? This wasn’t like her. Danae didn’t protest though as her mother lavished words of strength and encouragement onto her daughter as she spun the girl a tale of how it was okay to not be perfect. She only drunk the words in, tears welling in her eyes because Danae never expected her mother to say such things. Never in a million years. It touched Danae in ways that the girl couldn’t articulate.
Not until Circenia added an accidental dose of reality that brought the girl right back down to earth after being lifted high by her mother’s words.
“ But what if I am married to that man?” Danae quickly interjected as the nervousness she felt every time her inevitable fate was even approached was written clearly on her face. “ What if he doesn’t like the fact that I’m outspoken, stubborn, and brave like you are? What if he wants me to be that weak girl who dreams of nothing more than being his broodmare?” The girl was speaking at such a fast pace that the words practically tumbled out of her mouth, one right after the other. Her skin was flushed with a bright crimson color and if her mother looked closely, Circe might have been able to notice the ever so slight tremble in her fingers. It was quite plain to see that Danae was just not merely scared like most girls were right when they were on the cusp of whatever life the fates had in store for them.
She was absolutely terrified.
The prospect of being made into a wife was not a happy one for the Stravos girl. No, it was one filled with danger and unwelcome change. Danae was not a naive child anymore. She knew full well that there were only a handful of men out there who were like her father; who would allow the women in his life to bend society’s expectations to their own liking. Keikelius was a rarity in Greece for encouraging Circe to be outspoken and allowing for Danae to follow her own pursuits, as unladylike as they were. She was not foolish enough to believe that the man her parents would eventually choose to be her husband would permit his bride to continue to meddle in the fields of business and finance. Circenia said it herself, they couldn’t all be that lucky.
Even though the girl didn’t know that her mother would be able to sense all this apprehension that flooded Danae, she was sure to fill the woman in with one last muttered statement, “ I’m scared that I’m going to have to be something I’m not. I don’t know if I can do that Mother.” It was obvious that the littlest Stravos would never make a happy housewife. She would not find joy in raising children and maintaining a manor as other women of her stature might. Everyone knew that if that was what the fates had in store for Danae, her misery would be rivaled only by that of Niobe.
However, her fears were abated a bit when her mother continued to speak. Danae’s rapid pulse began to slow as Circenia reminded the girl that it was okay to be the things that society didn’t want her to be -- of course, it would come with strings and she knew full well that she would never be able to be open with what she loved… but maybe she could put more effort into trying to hide her strengths behind a mask. The gods knew she wasn’t very good at as of late, especially whenever she came into contact with those who knew how to push her buttons. Maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with scuffles with the likes of Rafail and Emilia if she could pretend to be that demure girl everyone wanted to be.
Yet, she was still nervous about whether or not she could actually do that. It would be so easy for her to nod her head in agreement and swear to herself that she would try harder to keep what made Danae… well, Danae... behind that mask. It was entirely another thing to succeed in that endeavor. Her temper was quite a thing to be reckoned with. (Her mother would be more than aware of that, given that she had been on the receiving end of her rage more than once.) Even with these doubts lurking in the back of her mind, Danae knew that her mother’s words were true and it was technically possible. It would just be extremely difficult for the girl.
That didn’t stop her from nodding sagely and saying quietly, “ I know, I know. It’s just so difficult to do... ” It would be easier if the little things didn’t get to her or if she was more talented at keeping her anger in check. If she had the cool and collected manner of her older sister, this wouldn’t be an issue. But she wasn’t Chara. She was Danae. The girl would just have to try hard to keep everything behind a mask, like her and only apologize when for when she didn’t do enough at the finish line, not when she first stepped up to the plate.
The least she could do was try.
An odd sereneness settled over the pair as Danae watched her mother work in the mirror. She didn’t know if her mother felt it, but there was an odd sort of tenseness to the air. Danae didn’t know quite how to describe it as she saw Circenia’s fingers carefully weaving what little length Danae had into a small braid, but if she had to, the girl would say that it was almost as if there was something unfinished. It was kind of like if they both witnessed a servant come in and do only half of a routine task, but neither of them wanted to mention that the job was not done. That it was somehow almost worse to acknowledge that things weren’t right. Danae didn’t know what was causing that feeling in her though. Everything was normal. Everything was as it should be for this morning routine that the Stravos women had fallen into.
Something was missing, but Danae didn’t know what it was.
That was until Circenia reached out to grasp her chin. Danae nearly gasped out of shock, but not for the reasons one might expect. The action from her mother wasn’t done out of malice, but instead out of love. It seemed so wrong. Growing up, Danae had never seen this action as something done out of kindness. Her mother had only ever done that whenever Danae had the gall to backchat Circe or when she was really young, she needed to spit something out. It was no different thirteen years later as four simple words seemed to be caught on the tip of her tongue as she looked up at the woman.
Suddenly Danae knew what it was missing from the room and the one thing she desperately needed more than anything in the room. It was something that she didn’t know she had missed in the last few years where teenage angst and fears of the future pushed Danae away from the woman who used to give what she needed freely. Without the fear of Danae fleeing like a skittish rabbit. Something that Danae used to seek out herself when she would run to her mother, leaping up into her arms without even needing to ask for it first. Back before Danae started to really pay attention to the meetings she attended with her father. Before she understood why her sister caked her face in makeup. Before the etiquette lessons and the endless fights over whether Danae would attend court. Back when Danae was not afraid to show her family that she loved them. That they were her entire world and that they filled her heart more than she could ever say.
Back when things were simpler and Danae had the courage to actually say the four words trapped on her tongue as her mother moved away, seemingly oblivious to how her daughter’s eyes were begging her to listen.
Mother.
Hug me.
Please.
These four simple words bounced around Danae’s mind, growing into a steady crescendo with every passing moment that her mother didn’t do the one thing Danae needed. The girl was starving to feel her mother’s touch; to be reminded without words that she was loved and who she was was more than good enough. It would mean more than Circenia would ever know, given how Danae never thought that she would live up to this woman’s expectations. That she would always be a disappointment in her mother’s eyes because of she a boy’s aptitude which would never match what was expected of her exterior. Now she could see that she wasn’t. She never was. The two of them just never knew how to say it. Danae was desperate for the safety and comfort that her mother once provided. More than anything in the world she wanted to feel it again.
That was why when her mother let go, making it clear to Danae that the woman didn’t understand what the girl was trying to say without words; the girl didn’t utter them.
Instead, she acted on them.
Without thinking, Danae turned around slightly in her chair and caught her mother mid-step as she was moving away. Wrapping her arms tightly around Circenia’s waist, Danae buried her face in her mother’s chiton. She was probably getting loose flakes of blush on it, but Danae didn’t care. She didn’t care. Instead, she just squeezed her mother, trying to pour all those years of love that she had denied the woman into her. Without words, she tried to show her mother how she missed little moments like this and that she was sorry that things had gotten to this point, where Circe didn’t feel like she could even hug her own daughter.
How did things get this bad?
“ I know you just told… me not to say I’m sorry... But I am! For everything!” She exclaimed through that light sobs racked her chest. She could only hope that her mother understood what Danae meant by her words because the girl was unable to string any other words together as she drunk in the physical affection that she didn’t know she missed so terribly. Things just had to be right again. Danae couldn’t take another day of being so distant. Not after she finally knew again what she had been missing out on. She couldn’t let this happen again. Not over her dead body.
They stayed like that for a moment before Danae reluctantly pulled away. As much as she needed that hug, she was afraid of overdoing it. Her mother had never been the most touchy-feely woman, after all.
Once the moment passed, Danae and Circe both understood that it was probably best if they didn’t speak about what just happened too heavily, but instead allow the loving atmosphere filled the room as the women tried to keep that feeling from disappearing. Too bad for Circe that sustaining it came at the cost of embarrassing herself in front of her daughter. Danae’s laughs grew louder than they would have been before upon imagining what her mother must have looked like, strutting around the court with the equivalent of two apples on her cheeks. It was so unfathomable that it was comical to the girl.
Luckily, her mother didn’t seem to take offense at the girl’s cheeriness and further elaborated on how she too hadn’t always been the perfect near-goddess of a woman that Danae had always thought her mother to be. Her words pulled another laugh out of the girl as she retorted with a light and airy, “ Well, it’s a good thing you’ve only admitted it to me, mother. If you had told Chara the whole court would have caught wind of it in an hour. How would you ever live it down?” Although her words contained a slight jab at her sister’s expense, they were playful. It was such a stark contrast to the normal scowl and minced words that Danae would have had if her mother had mentioned not being perfect any other time. The girl listened intently to the rest of her mother’s story before she added a statement of her own, “ Well, I’m glad at least my own stubbornness has thus far saved me from that embarrassment.”
The words were just as light and joking as everything else, but that changed when the girl asked her mother with a tone that had just a touch of concern as well as gratitude as she already suspected that she knew what the answer would be, “ You won’t… let me make mistakes like that, will you?” Danae was positive that after all the trouble it took to even get Danae to this point and how tentative her own descent into the world of cosmetics was, that Circe wouldn’t be so cruel as to leave her daughter to fend for herself. Not when both of them knew that one drawback could set Danae hurtling down the wrong path once again.
However, as Danae tried the makeup on, she was surprised by the fact that she didn’t seem to be really all that discouraged by the fact that her mother seemed to think that there was still room for improvement. (Blush truthfully seemed so trivial to everything else that had occurred.) Instead, she merely nodded as her mother gave her critiques and Danae reached for the cloth to wipe her face off and try again.
Taking the blush that her mother offered, Danae took her mother’s advice as she loaded the brush up with the peachy color and tapped it against the cannister several times before it went anywhere near her face. Once it did though, Danae was careful to only do small circles. During the process, she dared to glance up at herself in the mirror and for once the girl smiled at her reflections. She didn’t feel as insecure as she did when she first walked in. Not after her mother had made this into a place of safety once again… plus she would even dare to say that she liked how the blush looked on her cheeks. Circe was right, this color suited her well and instead of looking like she had painted on her, she had the appearance as if she just had a good laugh. (You could hardly see any imperfections!) It was so different than what she was used to… but different was good.
“ Well, how did I do?” Danae said as she turned to Circe with a slight smile dancing on her lips, seeking the approval from her mother that just a few hours ago, the girl never thought that she would get.
Danae knew that if she was looking for reassurance that her reluctance to take part in courtly things was okay, she was never going to get that from her mother. She should know better. Circenia was the queen of Athenia’s social circles. Danae couldn’t be naive to expect anything else.
That’s why her expression changed so quickly from one of disappointment to one of confusion when Circenia reacted to Danae’s reaction with… kindness? Was her mother feeling alright? This wasn’t like her. Danae didn’t protest though as her mother lavished words of strength and encouragement onto her daughter as she spun the girl a tale of how it was okay to not be perfect. She only drunk the words in, tears welling in her eyes because Danae never expected her mother to say such things. Never in a million years. It touched Danae in ways that the girl couldn’t articulate.
Not until Circenia added an accidental dose of reality that brought the girl right back down to earth after being lifted high by her mother’s words.
“ But what if I am married to that man?” Danae quickly interjected as the nervousness she felt every time her inevitable fate was even approached was written clearly on her face. “ What if he doesn’t like the fact that I’m outspoken, stubborn, and brave like you are? What if he wants me to be that weak girl who dreams of nothing more than being his broodmare?” The girl was speaking at such a fast pace that the words practically tumbled out of her mouth, one right after the other. Her skin was flushed with a bright crimson color and if her mother looked closely, Circe might have been able to notice the ever so slight tremble in her fingers. It was quite plain to see that Danae was just not merely scared like most girls were right when they were on the cusp of whatever life the fates had in store for them.
She was absolutely terrified.
The prospect of being made into a wife was not a happy one for the Stravos girl. No, it was one filled with danger and unwelcome change. Danae was not a naive child anymore. She knew full well that there were only a handful of men out there who were like her father; who would allow the women in his life to bend society’s expectations to their own liking. Keikelius was a rarity in Greece for encouraging Circe to be outspoken and allowing for Danae to follow her own pursuits, as unladylike as they were. She was not foolish enough to believe that the man her parents would eventually choose to be her husband would permit his bride to continue to meddle in the fields of business and finance. Circenia said it herself, they couldn’t all be that lucky.
Even though the girl didn’t know that her mother would be able to sense all this apprehension that flooded Danae, she was sure to fill the woman in with one last muttered statement, “ I’m scared that I’m going to have to be something I’m not. I don’t know if I can do that Mother.” It was obvious that the littlest Stravos would never make a happy housewife. She would not find joy in raising children and maintaining a manor as other women of her stature might. Everyone knew that if that was what the fates had in store for Danae, her misery would be rivaled only by that of Niobe.
However, her fears were abated a bit when her mother continued to speak. Danae’s rapid pulse began to slow as Circenia reminded the girl that it was okay to be the things that society didn’t want her to be -- of course, it would come with strings and she knew full well that she would never be able to be open with what she loved… but maybe she could put more effort into trying to hide her strengths behind a mask. The gods knew she wasn’t very good at as of late, especially whenever she came into contact with those who knew how to push her buttons. Maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with scuffles with the likes of Rafail and Emilia if she could pretend to be that demure girl everyone wanted to be.
Yet, she was still nervous about whether or not she could actually do that. It would be so easy for her to nod her head in agreement and swear to herself that she would try harder to keep what made Danae… well, Danae... behind that mask. It was entirely another thing to succeed in that endeavor. Her temper was quite a thing to be reckoned with. (Her mother would be more than aware of that, given that she had been on the receiving end of her rage more than once.) Even with these doubts lurking in the back of her mind, Danae knew that her mother’s words were true and it was technically possible. It would just be extremely difficult for the girl.
That didn’t stop her from nodding sagely and saying quietly, “ I know, I know. It’s just so difficult to do... ” It would be easier if the little things didn’t get to her or if she was more talented at keeping her anger in check. If she had the cool and collected manner of her older sister, this wouldn’t be an issue. But she wasn’t Chara. She was Danae. The girl would just have to try hard to keep everything behind a mask, like her and only apologize when for when she didn’t do enough at the finish line, not when she first stepped up to the plate.
The least she could do was try.
An odd sereneness settled over the pair as Danae watched her mother work in the mirror. She didn’t know if her mother felt it, but there was an odd sort of tenseness to the air. Danae didn’t know quite how to describe it as she saw Circenia’s fingers carefully weaving what little length Danae had into a small braid, but if she had to, the girl would say that it was almost as if there was something unfinished. It was kind of like if they both witnessed a servant come in and do only half of a routine task, but neither of them wanted to mention that the job was not done. That it was somehow almost worse to acknowledge that things weren’t right. Danae didn’t know what was causing that feeling in her though. Everything was normal. Everything was as it should be for this morning routine that the Stravos women had fallen into.
Something was missing, but Danae didn’t know what it was.
That was until Circenia reached out to grasp her chin. Danae nearly gasped out of shock, but not for the reasons one might expect. The action from her mother wasn’t done out of malice, but instead out of love. It seemed so wrong. Growing up, Danae had never seen this action as something done out of kindness. Her mother had only ever done that whenever Danae had the gall to backchat Circe or when she was really young, she needed to spit something out. It was no different thirteen years later as four simple words seemed to be caught on the tip of her tongue as she looked up at the woman.
Suddenly Danae knew what it was missing from the room and the one thing she desperately needed more than anything in the room. It was something that she didn’t know she had missed in the last few years where teenage angst and fears of the future pushed Danae away from the woman who used to give what she needed freely. Without the fear of Danae fleeing like a skittish rabbit. Something that Danae used to seek out herself when she would run to her mother, leaping up into her arms without even needing to ask for it first. Back before Danae started to really pay attention to the meetings she attended with her father. Before she understood why her sister caked her face in makeup. Before the etiquette lessons and the endless fights over whether Danae would attend court. Back when Danae was not afraid to show her family that she loved them. That they were her entire world and that they filled her heart more than she could ever say.
Back when things were simpler and Danae had the courage to actually say the four words trapped on her tongue as her mother moved away, seemingly oblivious to how her daughter’s eyes were begging her to listen.
Mother.
Hug me.
Please.
These four simple words bounced around Danae’s mind, growing into a steady crescendo with every passing moment that her mother didn’t do the one thing Danae needed. The girl was starving to feel her mother’s touch; to be reminded without words that she was loved and who she was was more than good enough. It would mean more than Circenia would ever know, given how Danae never thought that she would live up to this woman’s expectations. That she would always be a disappointment in her mother’s eyes because of she a boy’s aptitude which would never match what was expected of her exterior. Now she could see that she wasn’t. She never was. The two of them just never knew how to say it. Danae was desperate for the safety and comfort that her mother once provided. More than anything in the world she wanted to feel it again.
That was why when her mother let go, making it clear to Danae that the woman didn’t understand what the girl was trying to say without words; the girl didn’t utter them.
Instead, she acted on them.
Without thinking, Danae turned around slightly in her chair and caught her mother mid-step as she was moving away. Wrapping her arms tightly around Circenia’s waist, Danae buried her face in her mother’s chiton. She was probably getting loose flakes of blush on it, but Danae didn’t care. She didn’t care. Instead, she just squeezed her mother, trying to pour all those years of love that she had denied the woman into her. Without words, she tried to show her mother how she missed little moments like this and that she was sorry that things had gotten to this point, where Circe didn’t feel like she could even hug her own daughter.
How did things get this bad?
“ I know you just told… me not to say I’m sorry... But I am! For everything!” She exclaimed through that light sobs racked her chest. She could only hope that her mother understood what Danae meant by her words because the girl was unable to string any other words together as she drunk in the physical affection that she didn’t know she missed so terribly. Things just had to be right again. Danae couldn’t take another day of being so distant. Not after she finally knew again what she had been missing out on. She couldn’t let this happen again. Not over her dead body.
They stayed like that for a moment before Danae reluctantly pulled away. As much as she needed that hug, she was afraid of overdoing it. Her mother had never been the most touchy-feely woman, after all.
Once the moment passed, Danae and Circe both understood that it was probably best if they didn’t speak about what just happened too heavily, but instead allow the loving atmosphere filled the room as the women tried to keep that feeling from disappearing. Too bad for Circe that sustaining it came at the cost of embarrassing herself in front of her daughter. Danae’s laughs grew louder than they would have been before upon imagining what her mother must have looked like, strutting around the court with the equivalent of two apples on her cheeks. It was so unfathomable that it was comical to the girl.
Luckily, her mother didn’t seem to take offense at the girl’s cheeriness and further elaborated on how she too hadn’t always been the perfect near-goddess of a woman that Danae had always thought her mother to be. Her words pulled another laugh out of the girl as she retorted with a light and airy, “ Well, it’s a good thing you’ve only admitted it to me, mother. If you had told Chara the whole court would have caught wind of it in an hour. How would you ever live it down?” Although her words contained a slight jab at her sister’s expense, they were playful. It was such a stark contrast to the normal scowl and minced words that Danae would have had if her mother had mentioned not being perfect any other time. The girl listened intently to the rest of her mother’s story before she added a statement of her own, “ Well, I’m glad at least my own stubbornness has thus far saved me from that embarrassment.”
The words were just as light and joking as everything else, but that changed when the girl asked her mother with a tone that had just a touch of concern as well as gratitude as she already suspected that she knew what the answer would be, “ You won’t… let me make mistakes like that, will you?” Danae was positive that after all the trouble it took to even get Danae to this point and how tentative her own descent into the world of cosmetics was, that Circe wouldn’t be so cruel as to leave her daughter to fend for herself. Not when both of them knew that one drawback could set Danae hurtling down the wrong path once again.
However, as Danae tried the makeup on, she was surprised by the fact that she didn’t seem to be really all that discouraged by the fact that her mother seemed to think that there was still room for improvement. (Blush truthfully seemed so trivial to everything else that had occurred.) Instead, she merely nodded as her mother gave her critiques and Danae reached for the cloth to wipe her face off and try again.
Taking the blush that her mother offered, Danae took her mother’s advice as she loaded the brush up with the peachy color and tapped it against the cannister several times before it went anywhere near her face. Once it did though, Danae was careful to only do small circles. During the process, she dared to glance up at herself in the mirror and for once the girl smiled at her reflections. She didn’t feel as insecure as she did when she first walked in. Not after her mother had made this into a place of safety once again… plus she would even dare to say that she liked how the blush looked on her cheeks. Circe was right, this color suited her well and instead of looking like she had painted on her, she had the appearance as if she just had a good laugh. (You could hardly see any imperfections!) It was so different than what she was used to… but different was good.
“ Well, how did I do?” Danae said as she turned to Circe with a slight smile dancing on her lips, seeking the approval from her mother that just a few hours ago, the girl never thought that she would get.
When Danae’s arms wrapped around her, Circenia froze for but a moment, overcome with shock. The last thing she ever expected was such an open gesture of affection, especially from her daughter who was so often estranged. Elias and Chara both showed no qualms about their adoration of their mother, but Danae had always been cut from a different cloth. It was such a simple gesture, and yet, it spoke words more complicated than any that could have left her mouth.
Her pause was only that of a couple seconds before she dropped what she was doing and returned the embrace, pulling her baby in tighter against her. When had things become so strained between them that just a hug should feel so meaningful? How much of it could she blame on herself? The princess was hardly a distant mother—her children were the center of her existence and her reason for living. But Danae had been pushing her away for years, and instead of finding a way to bridge the gap, Circenia had simply despaired and let it happen, helpless to do aught but watch and hope for it to change.
She’d never wish for tragedy to strike, but at least it had brought her this.
Reluctant to release her daughter, Circenia squeezed just a little tighter, leaning down to gently kiss and nuzzle the top of her head. The girl’s apology tore through her heart, as did her sobs, a few answering tears prickling her own eyes. Softly shushing her, she gently stroked Danae’s short hair and let it lie, holding her until the other let go. Gods, but was this what they’d needed all along?
Rather than say anything else about what just happened, she simply stroked her thumb across her child’s cheekbone and offered a smile before they delved into lighter topics. A poignant moment passed and gone, but certainly not forgotten. It was one Circenia would never let go.
Spirits lifted that perhaps her daughter was not entirely lost to her, her smiles came much more freely, a jovial laugh echoing through the room as Danae commented it was better her embarrassing tale was relayed to her rather than her sister.
“Indeed, and we shall have to keep it our own little secret, eh?” she replied with a sparkle in her crystalline eye, lashes lowering in a wink. “I prefer Chara think I’ve always been perfect. Better not to bruise her to her core.”
You won’t… let me make mistakes like that, will you?
Sobering at that, Circenia regarded Danae for a long moment before she answered. The princess would do whatever she could, whenever she could, to protect her children, but neither could she keep them from living their lives. Mistakes would always be part of the human experience and served as valuable lessons to be carried into the future. No parent could keep their child from the occasional stumble, but how often was too often to intervene?
“I can’t promise that I will always be there to catch you when you fall, Danae,” she murmured, the girl’s fear striking a painful chord in her chest. “Some things you have to learn without me.” Lightly stroking her knuckles down the side of Danae’s face, the princess released her breath on a gentle sigh. “But I will always be there to help you when I can. All you ever have to do is ask.”
That much was true. While Circenia cared for very few, she would tear down Athenia brick by brick with her bare hands if it meant her children could have a better life. Gods, but she would set the entirety of Greece on fire if any one of them asked it of her. Danae was certainly no exception to that.
Watching her youngest child apply the blush with a surer hand, the princess made no attempt to hide the smile that spread across her face. This was certainly an unexpected turn of events, considering how Danae had always fought womanly pursuits tooth and nail, and Circenia felt her heart swell with pride. Of course, the final result wasn’t immaculate, but it was better than the first two, and that’s what mattered. Like she’d told her daughter before, it was the striving to be better that mattered, not innate perfection. All one could ever hope for was improvement, and all that took was practice. No matter the pursuit.
Well, how did I do?
“Much better,” Circenia replied with a smile and a nod. Another wink and she added, “Soon enough, you’ll be even better than I am.”
The following hour passed in much the same vein as the rest of the morning, the two women settling into a comfortable rhythm that served to strengthen the weakened bonds of the last several years. While she knew her daughter would never be the courtier she was, the princess was overjoyed that she was even willing to try. It was a tender moment of acceptance desperately needed by them both while the pair sought to strive for a brighter future, one not so fraught with the arguments that so often plagued the past.
In the end, where there was love, there was always hope.
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When Danae’s arms wrapped around her, Circenia froze for but a moment, overcome with shock. The last thing she ever expected was such an open gesture of affection, especially from her daughter who was so often estranged. Elias and Chara both showed no qualms about their adoration of their mother, but Danae had always been cut from a different cloth. It was such a simple gesture, and yet, it spoke words more complicated than any that could have left her mouth.
Her pause was only that of a couple seconds before she dropped what she was doing and returned the embrace, pulling her baby in tighter against her. When had things become so strained between them that just a hug should feel so meaningful? How much of it could she blame on herself? The princess was hardly a distant mother—her children were the center of her existence and her reason for living. But Danae had been pushing her away for years, and instead of finding a way to bridge the gap, Circenia had simply despaired and let it happen, helpless to do aught but watch and hope for it to change.
She’d never wish for tragedy to strike, but at least it had brought her this.
Reluctant to release her daughter, Circenia squeezed just a little tighter, leaning down to gently kiss and nuzzle the top of her head. The girl’s apology tore through her heart, as did her sobs, a few answering tears prickling her own eyes. Softly shushing her, she gently stroked Danae’s short hair and let it lie, holding her until the other let go. Gods, but was this what they’d needed all along?
Rather than say anything else about what just happened, she simply stroked her thumb across her child’s cheekbone and offered a smile before they delved into lighter topics. A poignant moment passed and gone, but certainly not forgotten. It was one Circenia would never let go.
Spirits lifted that perhaps her daughter was not entirely lost to her, her smiles came much more freely, a jovial laugh echoing through the room as Danae commented it was better her embarrassing tale was relayed to her rather than her sister.
“Indeed, and we shall have to keep it our own little secret, eh?” she replied with a sparkle in her crystalline eye, lashes lowering in a wink. “I prefer Chara think I’ve always been perfect. Better not to bruise her to her core.”
You won’t… let me make mistakes like that, will you?
Sobering at that, Circenia regarded Danae for a long moment before she answered. The princess would do whatever she could, whenever she could, to protect her children, but neither could she keep them from living their lives. Mistakes would always be part of the human experience and served as valuable lessons to be carried into the future. No parent could keep their child from the occasional stumble, but how often was too often to intervene?
“I can’t promise that I will always be there to catch you when you fall, Danae,” she murmured, the girl’s fear striking a painful chord in her chest. “Some things you have to learn without me.” Lightly stroking her knuckles down the side of Danae’s face, the princess released her breath on a gentle sigh. “But I will always be there to help you when I can. All you ever have to do is ask.”
That much was true. While Circenia cared for very few, she would tear down Athenia brick by brick with her bare hands if it meant her children could have a better life. Gods, but she would set the entirety of Greece on fire if any one of them asked it of her. Danae was certainly no exception to that.
Watching her youngest child apply the blush with a surer hand, the princess made no attempt to hide the smile that spread across her face. This was certainly an unexpected turn of events, considering how Danae had always fought womanly pursuits tooth and nail, and Circenia felt her heart swell with pride. Of course, the final result wasn’t immaculate, but it was better than the first two, and that’s what mattered. Like she’d told her daughter before, it was the striving to be better that mattered, not innate perfection. All one could ever hope for was improvement, and all that took was practice. No matter the pursuit.
Well, how did I do?
“Much better,” Circenia replied with a smile and a nod. Another wink and she added, “Soon enough, you’ll be even better than I am.”
The following hour passed in much the same vein as the rest of the morning, the two women settling into a comfortable rhythm that served to strengthen the weakened bonds of the last several years. While she knew her daughter would never be the courtier she was, the princess was overjoyed that she was even willing to try. It was a tender moment of acceptance desperately needed by them both while the pair sought to strive for a brighter future, one not so fraught with the arguments that so often plagued the past.
In the end, where there was love, there was always hope.
When Danae’s arms wrapped around her, Circenia froze for but a moment, overcome with shock. The last thing she ever expected was such an open gesture of affection, especially from her daughter who was so often estranged. Elias and Chara both showed no qualms about their adoration of their mother, but Danae had always been cut from a different cloth. It was such a simple gesture, and yet, it spoke words more complicated than any that could have left her mouth.
Her pause was only that of a couple seconds before she dropped what she was doing and returned the embrace, pulling her baby in tighter against her. When had things become so strained between them that just a hug should feel so meaningful? How much of it could she blame on herself? The princess was hardly a distant mother—her children were the center of her existence and her reason for living. But Danae had been pushing her away for years, and instead of finding a way to bridge the gap, Circenia had simply despaired and let it happen, helpless to do aught but watch and hope for it to change.
She’d never wish for tragedy to strike, but at least it had brought her this.
Reluctant to release her daughter, Circenia squeezed just a little tighter, leaning down to gently kiss and nuzzle the top of her head. The girl’s apology tore through her heart, as did her sobs, a few answering tears prickling her own eyes. Softly shushing her, she gently stroked Danae’s short hair and let it lie, holding her until the other let go. Gods, but was this what they’d needed all along?
Rather than say anything else about what just happened, she simply stroked her thumb across her child’s cheekbone and offered a smile before they delved into lighter topics. A poignant moment passed and gone, but certainly not forgotten. It was one Circenia would never let go.
Spirits lifted that perhaps her daughter was not entirely lost to her, her smiles came much more freely, a jovial laugh echoing through the room as Danae commented it was better her embarrassing tale was relayed to her rather than her sister.
“Indeed, and we shall have to keep it our own little secret, eh?” she replied with a sparkle in her crystalline eye, lashes lowering in a wink. “I prefer Chara think I’ve always been perfect. Better not to bruise her to her core.”
You won’t… let me make mistakes like that, will you?
Sobering at that, Circenia regarded Danae for a long moment before she answered. The princess would do whatever she could, whenever she could, to protect her children, but neither could she keep them from living their lives. Mistakes would always be part of the human experience and served as valuable lessons to be carried into the future. No parent could keep their child from the occasional stumble, but how often was too often to intervene?
“I can’t promise that I will always be there to catch you when you fall, Danae,” she murmured, the girl’s fear striking a painful chord in her chest. “Some things you have to learn without me.” Lightly stroking her knuckles down the side of Danae’s face, the princess released her breath on a gentle sigh. “But I will always be there to help you when I can. All you ever have to do is ask.”
That much was true. While Circenia cared for very few, she would tear down Athenia brick by brick with her bare hands if it meant her children could have a better life. Gods, but she would set the entirety of Greece on fire if any one of them asked it of her. Danae was certainly no exception to that.
Watching her youngest child apply the blush with a surer hand, the princess made no attempt to hide the smile that spread across her face. This was certainly an unexpected turn of events, considering how Danae had always fought womanly pursuits tooth and nail, and Circenia felt her heart swell with pride. Of course, the final result wasn’t immaculate, but it was better than the first two, and that’s what mattered. Like she’d told her daughter before, it was the striving to be better that mattered, not innate perfection. All one could ever hope for was improvement, and all that took was practice. No matter the pursuit.
Well, how did I do?
“Much better,” Circenia replied with a smile and a nod. Another wink and she added, “Soon enough, you’ll be even better than I am.”
The following hour passed in much the same vein as the rest of the morning, the two women settling into a comfortable rhythm that served to strengthen the weakened bonds of the last several years. While she knew her daughter would never be the courtier she was, the princess was overjoyed that she was even willing to try. It was a tender moment of acceptance desperately needed by them both while the pair sought to strive for a brighter future, one not so fraught with the arguments that so often plagued the past.
In the end, where there was love, there was always hope.