Juliette Coulombe (clearyourmind) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-11-01 08:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, !plot: fete of holy saints, audrey leradine, juliette coulombe |
Who: Juliette & Alys
What: Fete of Holy Saints
Where: Their house, then the Cathedral, then the Necrohol
When: Today
Rating: PG-ish
Status: Complete!
On the day of the Fete of Holy Saints, Juliette woke up early. It was unnecessary, perhaps -- as it was every year, there would be no training for her today, no classes, no appointments to keep… save one. It was for the sake of this appointment that she rose with the sun. She dressed slowly, thoughtfully, eschewing her usual training clothing of tunic and loose pants and choosing a dark blue dress with a high collar from the back of her closet. She had not worn a skirt since she had realized that no one was forcing her to do so, but… It seemed right, for today. She brushed her hair, pulling it into a tight braid down her back. The young woman in the mirror looked somber and formal and somehow jarring. What would they have thought of me? She opened her bedroom door, thinking that she would have to go wake Alys. Did she realize the significance of the day? She had asked Juliette for guidance at mass these last several weeks. Could it be she didn’t know? She felt a tightness in her throat. For Alys, who had spent so many years in ignorance, the wound was still fresh. How difficult would it be for her? And lately, things had been tense to begin with... Her thoughts were interrupted by a strange crunch under her foot. She looked down, and stopped, staring. There was something white all over the floor. Sugar? Salt? It was piled in corners and sprinkled across the hall. Bewildered, she began walking down the hall. The kitchen was not so close that it could have been a baking accident, and Ms. Han kept a neat and tidy house. But the housekeeper was nowhere to be found, and the mess continued into the kitchen and dining room. In the living room beyond sat Alys, wrapped in a blanket until naught but her head emerged from the cocoon, her hair disheveled and her face drawn as she rocked herself back and forth. Perhaps she realized, after all. “Alys?” Juliette said carefully, the disaster on the floor temporarily forgotten. She felt woefully incapable of handling grief (was it grief?), but there was no one else here. Despite the crunching sound beneath her little sister’s feet it wasn’t until Juliette had spoken her name that Audrey had lifted her head from her cocoon. Her face was gaunt, white from last night’s fright. The dark circles in her eyes spoke stories of a restlessness. “You’re up,” was all she mustered. Clearing out her throat, she brought her legs down and out of her fetal position so she was sitting normally on the couch now. “And in a dress,” she added. “Where are you going so nicely dressed?” The question had Juliette stopping, bewildered. If Alys had no idea of today’s significance, then what was she doing? Juliette smoothed her hands over her skirt, self-conscious and awkward, before she answered, “It is the Fete of Holy Saints today.” Thinking back to the ways in which she had had to instruct Alys on church etiquette, she thought it prudent to add, after a lengthy pause, “The Necrohol.” It didn’t hit her at first. Audrey stared blankly back at her sister. Then it slowly began to dawn upon the importance of this day. It was a day she had been forced to forget. Audrey had never seen her parents’ grave-- neither had she ever tried to find it. Her blanket fell from her shoulder and it had taken time for the blonde Coulombe to cover herself again. “Oh,” she finally spoke. Standing up, collected salt fell from her blanket. “I must go,” it came out more like a question than a statement, as if the older sister was asking the younger one if she had to do it. The festering pain in her stomach was growing at an exponential rate causing Audrey to breathe out of her mouth. “I… had thought you would,” Juliette responded. Had it been wrong to assume? Today of all days she had hoped for “I always went alone, before but… and I am sorry, truly,” she said, interrupting herself, “but… what is… all of this?” She gestured to indicate the salt piled in the corners of the room and spread in white streaks across the floor. “Did something… happen?” And where was the housekeeper? “I--” she stuttered on her words, unsure how to respond to her. The attention went away from today’s ceremonies to the salt on the floor. A hand came up to brush her hair back, as if just realizing the mess she had made in the house. “I purchased a book from Sako Island. It was stupid. I was just trying to keep them out. Nothing happened last night, so I don’t think they’re coming.” Biting her lower lip, and after fully scrutinizing the damage she had done Audrey sighed and brought her attention back to Juliette. “I’ll clean it. I told Ms. Han she could go back to Sako Island and visit her family. I thought we could keep the house clean for a couple of days. It’s my mess, I’ll clean it.” What did a book have to do with anything? And who were they exactly? Everything her sister said just made Juliette more confused. So all she could say was, “I see. I had not realized she was going but… that is good.” And inconvenient. She didn’t know the first thing about cleaning a house, and this seemed… considerably more chaos than normal. She made her way across the floor, the salt crunching under her feet, and perched on the arm of Alys’ chair. “I can help,” she offered, even though she hadn’t the faintest idea how they could manage it. A pause, then, “Did you eat?” When she had gone to bed, Alys had not yet returned; Juliette had to assume that she had been out late for the holiday, but if she was up already (or was it still?) then she might have had something. “I can…” what? She didn’t even know why Alys was upset, only that she was. What could she possibly do? The answer came to her, though it was perhaps insufficient. “Crêpes with jam,” she suggested. “I can make some, while you get ready… if you are going.” A delay wouldn’t matter. And perhaps something sweet would help Alys settle. “N-no, it’s okay. I can clean it. I know how to clean.” Thoughts of Miles’ punishment had gone forgotten in her mind. She was far too shook up from last night to even remember the man was supposed to substitute Ms. Han’s leave. Audrey shook her head in response to her question. In truth she hadn’t wanted to eat since she got home. Even now she wasn’t hungry. “If it calms you, yes. I’m not dreadfully hungry.” Folding the blanket and laying it down on the sofa, Audrey nodded to her little sister heading to her room in order to shower and get ready for today’s mass. They had made it in time for the second mass of the day. The church had been full and the service somber, and Juliette had attempted to keep her thoughts piously on the proceedings instead of allowing them to wander. It was exceedingly strange, not doing this alone. Alys still looked pale and a bit ill, but she was not the only one. It was likely to be written off by anyone who noticed as a consequence of the day. As they knelt, stood, prayed, and were finally dismissed, Juliette kept shooting glances at her sister from under her lashes, concerned. Outside, the flower sellers were out in force, crowding around the steps and the main the main square, displaying a riot of color, a stark contrast to the dark clothing of the parishioners filing out of the cathedral. They went down the stairs and Juliette stopped, uncertain. She had always been sent to buy chrysanthemums -- some sort of family tradition, she had been told, but… “Do you… that is.” Of course she remembered. It was a matter of finding a way to phrase it. “I was never told… Mother’s favorite flowers,” she said at last. “But I think we should find them, if you’re willing. Unless it’s too difficult, or… or… well,” she stopped realizing she was babbling. “What would you like to do?” she ventured. Surrounded by stalls of flowers, Audrey understood through the stuttering what her little sister was trying to say. While she was usually patient with her little sister, the mass had soured her mood. Her eyes drifted in the direction of the Necrohol already feeling the sick, knotted feeling in her stomach. People were looking at them, particularly those who knew of Alys’ story. They wanted a reaction, she knew, but today was a day she prefered to be in somber privacy. “Roses,” she finally added. “Red ones. Father always brought her red roses after being away from trips. She even had a rose garden full of different colors.” Her voice sounded emotionless as she pulled out Gil to pay. “Pick them. Mother will love them no matter what, simply because it was you that picked them while thinking of her.” The mask was cracking along with her voice. “All right.” Roses were not common on this holiday, and it took her some time to spot a cart offering them, but Juliette was determined to buck propriety for this. She had nothing to tie her to her long lost family; before Alys had come, they had only been vague characters in a rarely-told story. But she wanted to connect with them somehow, for all that they were gone, and was today not the day the the dead were honored by the living? Perhaps somewhere, somehow, her parents and brothers would know that she had tried. It was a silly thought, perhaps. A silly, childish thought, she scolded herself internally. But she paid for the roses anyway, her expression stony as the seller gave her a curious look. Holding the bouquet against her chest, she turned to Alys. “Shall we go?” The Necrohol was just beyond the church grounds, and usually quiet, though it would be crowded today. Audrey was quiet while the girl looked around, picking the flowers carefully. She had been in such a daze that when she snapped back to the moment, Juliette had already purchased the flowers. Frowning, she had wanted to pay, but simply tucked the gil back into her purse. Audrey mouthed a quiet apology following her sister until they reached the gates of the Necrohol. Then as if something prevented her from stepping forward, Audrey froze. She stared on ahead, lifting a hand to her lips, feeling ill. “I can’t,” she muttered quietly, knot forming in her throat. “I-I can’t.” Juliette stopped, too. There was really nothing else to do. And as for something -- anything -- appropriate to say in such a moment… She almost said, I can go on my own, but these last months had taught her something. She had not changed perceptibly, perhaps, but she was trying. “I can’t imagine… how you must feel,” she said at last, her voice quiet as people flowed around them like water around two stones in a stream. No one paid them any mind. “For you, it must be so… new. I don’t… is there anything I can do?” Her voice dropped in volume as she spoke, the last words both a plea and a whisper. I don’t want to see you like this. She had been so intent on presenting herself properly that she hadn’t even realized the attachment had formed, but here they were. Then, even more quietly, “Did you wish to go home?” She could come back later on her own. Their family, she thought, would understand. Surely. For a brief moment it was just them and the world had disappeared in unintelligible sound. Audrey stared back at her little sister. Her words only made Audrey shake more in her dress, realizing what she could and could not do and stepping into that graveyard in the light of day like this would ruin her. Swallowing the thick knot in her throat, Audrey slowly shook her head. Her eyes were reddening as she stared back. “Go,” her word was an order despite how it cracked in her throat. The back of her hand raised to cover her lips as she tried to recuperate from the hot sting in her eyes. Looking up to the sky as if it would help her collect herself, Audrey shook her head. “You should go, I am sure mother always expects you.” Not me. Reaching into her purse she pulled out a wrapped melonpan. “Put this on Thomas’ gra--” The word triggered it and the tears she had been suppressing were now flowing freely. “Look, I have to go. I have to be alone,” Audrey covered her mouth, mumbling. “I just-- I am so sorry. I-I can’t.” With her back to her little sister, the ninja melted back into the crowd leaving the girl like she did fifteen years ago. That was all she was good at-- running away. “No -- I --” But before Juliette could formulate her thoughts -- about not wanting to leave Alys alone, about not understanding but wanting to try, and selfishly about how, for once, she just wanted not to carry the burden of this day all by herself -- her sister was already gone. Juliette stood there, blinking rapidly, trying not to shed tears herself. She would, later, she thought. She hadn’t every year -- sometimes, she had felt too disconnected -- but she already knew today was different. Someone bumped her elbow and murmured an apology; she clutched the roses closer to her chest and replied automatically that of course it was fine, she was fine. Expression somber, the girl with the unusual bouquet at last moved to join the people streaming into the Necrohol. |