lida irving will love you to death (tangledvines) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2014-08-23 20:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | #flashback, #solo, lida |
motherhood: all love begins and ends there
WHO | Lida + NPCs
WHERE | Irving Household, England
WHEN | 1659
How could she say goodbye when they wouldn’t even let her see him?
Lida’s vision was blurred by the wall of tears building in her eyes, making it so that she could not see just how fully the little rose blossom was blooming thanks to her touch. She held the base of the flower gently between her fingers and felt the petals unfurl and open, releasing the sweet scent easily. A sob wrenched its way past her throat, causing her to inhale sharply. The breath of air shook the tears free, causing them to spill out onto her cheeks. They trailed down her face, racing for her chin and splattering onto the front of her dress. She barely registered the itchy material of the garment. The only thing that mattered was how she could hear an infant crying in the distance and could do nothing to comfort him, to quell his fears.
My son needs me, she thought desperately. He was inside somewhere, probably fighting the urge of sleep. She tried to reason that he was simply fussy due to no rest, but she knew that his cries were for her. Though he didn’t know her face or anything about her, he knew that the bitter woman inside was not his mother. She did not carry him within for the better part of a year. She did not suffer through sickness and pain to bring him into this world. She did not sing to him to help soothe him long before he ever took his first breath. Now, Lida was the one who could not comfort him, who could not touch him. How could she have been so foolish to believe that they would let her keep him?
“I thought you might be here.”
The voice was cold and cut at her sharply. Lida’s stomach turned, but she kept her eyes firmly on the rose. She looked past the vivid red bloom and didn’t see the green of leaves and thorns beyond. She could not see anything save for the color black, the taste of bile hot in her throat. She would not give Sophia the satisfaction of seeing her cry, so she wiped at her eyes, using the heels of her hands to dry away the tracks before turning to face Phillip’s wife. The brunette was only six years Lida’s senior and she could be considered rather pretty if she did not sneer so haughtily. It was clear that she was a woman who came from little to no station, but believed herself worth so much more than those around her. Her marriage to Phillip did more than enough to feed that thought.
Lida slowly rose and faced Sophia, keeping her gaze submissive. The woman was already forcing her to stay away from her son, but perhaps she could see sense and let Lida stay nearby. No woman could be so heartless as to separate a mother from her newborn son, could she?
“Your things have been packed and a carriage has been arranged to take you away.” Even without looking at her, Lida knew Sophia was wearing a smug smile just from the tone in her voice.
“Please,” Lida whispered. She wanted there to be more volume to her voice, but she could not properly do that without her voice cracking and wavering, revealing just how distressed she was. “Please don’t send me away. I can help take care of him. I can earn my keep here. I --”
“No. You will not be near my son nor my husband. You were brought in for one purpose and now that you have fulfilled that, you are dismissed.”
The tears burned in her eyes once more and this time, Lida looked up to Sophia, letting her gaze adjust so that she could see the woman in front of her. Sophia was taller than she was, but she did not have the curves beneath her dress to look half so womanly as Lida did. Her hair was a dark, almost dingy sort of brown. Standing there, Lida knew that though she were younger, she was the beauty between the two. Her own auburn hair held such a luster that it seemed that the sunlight enjoyed to dance with it. So, then why did she feel so small and insignificant? She fell to her knees and stretched her arms out, fingers clutching the hem of Sophia’s dress.
“No! I swear will not tell him! I will hide the truth from him forever -- he will know only you as his mother! I will be a stranger to him, nothing to him, but I cannot survive without seeing him. Sophia, I beg you, please do not send me away. Do not take him away from me!”
Sophia’s expression changed suddenly from smugness to disdain, a scowl sending deep wrinkles striking her features and making her look so much more fierce than pretty. She jerked her dress from Lida’s hands, the fabric ripping slightly. Without so much as a second’s hesitation, Sophia pressed the toe of her boot into Lida’s chest and kicked, pushing her over. Lida tipped over into the mud, her hands clawing into the soil.
“My son will know the truth, the only truth that will ever be uttered in this house. I am his mother. No amount of begging is going to help you, orphan,” the word peeled out of her mouth with a sneer. “ You are and will always be nothing to him for he will never know you nor your face. If I ever catch you near this property, I will have you arrested and locked away for the rest of your days. You will never see him nor hold him after this day.”
Lida could not explain the sound that tore out of her mouth. The strangled cry sounded akin to an injured animal, desperate to survive. Her veins felt as if they were filled with both fire and ice and it was almost as if she felt a physical snap within her mind. She couldn’t explain what caused her to jump from the ground, but before she could realize, she was standing with her hands wrapped around Sophia’s throat. Lida’s fair skin was streaked with mud and dirt and she relished the sight of those filthy fingers pressing against the almost alabaster skin of the brunette.
Sophia squawked, a sound that brought Lida no small amount of pleasure. Without Sophia, she could continue to live here with Phillip and their son. The idea was so clear in her mind that she did not hear the rush of footsteps and angry shouting that came around her all of a sudden. Phillip and several of the servants rushed towards her, grabbing her arms and pulling her away from their mistress. She heard Phillip’s voice, but the words were lost over the screams that she kept hurling at them.
“He is my son! You cannot keep us apart forever! He is my son!” She was carried around the house to the front where the carriage waited. Unceremoniously, she was tossed inside and the door was latched from the outside. She pounded her hands against the wood, her knuckles blistering and bruising from the contact. Though they could no longer see her, the ferocity of her actions were not lost on the Irvings. The carriage shook with the force of each hit and her screams were just as audible as if she were standing next to them.
“He is mine!”