The Girl In Green

Ella's latest work:

The painting is roughly 2 feet by 3 feet, swathed in the characteristic darkness of Ella's work. In about the middle of the painting Julianna Heartstrong sits on a low wooden stool in a cavernous castle hall. A dim fireplace behind her provides the only light of the place, and at the outside edges of the canvas the room fades into blackness. The dark castle hall provides only the upper half of the painting, however, at the center point, Julianna is embroidering a soft blue sash that spills down off of her lap and onto the floor, pooling out into enormity until it occupies the entire lower half of the painting. Julianna appears to be most of the way through embroidering the Dougal crest on the sash, but as it continues down into the painting the embroidery is filled with every imaginable sight of Spring, flowers at bloom, lambs playing through clover, all throughout the embroidery are images of Spring shaking off the bonds of Winter and coming to life. In certain spots, pieces of collage are worked in, real dried flowers and bird feathers give the painting a strange depth and reality. The contrast between the two halves of the painting is breathtakingly strong, it seems almost like two separate pieces brought together, and nothing is done to rescue the viewer from the jarring strangeness of it. Still, it seems in places as though the blue is creeping upwards into the darkness, slowly triumphing. The jarring quality of it is like a call to arms, to action, rather than something dark and woeful.

Ella walked through the woods, smiling softly to herself. The morning was crisp and new, her body was sweetly worn and her mind still fuzzy with sleep. Since arriving at Winter's Heart, this had become her practice, to awaken early, and enter the woods, breathing in the scent of the trees.

Wrapped in a warm brown cloak, rich red curls spilling down her back and cheeks pinked with cold, she paints a lovely, fairy tale picture. Like a nymph, or sprite, she flits from tree to tree, touching the cold, rough trunks and humming some forgotten tune.

And deep within, she rages.

The beast, shackled and beaten, growls and lunges against its restraints.

He had, as she knew he would, toyed with her, drawn her out, waited until she was extended in attack and turned her energy back on herself with the ease of a master swordsman. She knew, on some level, that it had been careful, difficult work, but it had been performed with the ease of a virtuoso. She was defeated, fairly, evenly and without pretense, or at least what would pass for fairly and evenly between two such as them.

"I am my master's student."

Leaning back against the solid trunk of an oak, Ella closes her eyes, breathing in the dawn air and searching her mind for a way out of this labyrinth into which he has led her. She finds none, she wants none, she is his creature and content to be so. It is gratifying, at least, to be treated as something worthy of conquering, as an ally worthy of gaining. She misses her pirate, deeply, desperately, and her heart sinks with the knowledge that she cannot return to Denver, not to live, not to stay. This is her home, her university, her house of worship wrapped in one, and to leave this place is as unthinkable as to stop loving Robyn. The two needs will be at war within her, always, and she sees the bitter fights, the tears, the pain spread before her like the inevitable tide.

After a few quiet moments, leaning into the tree, she takes a breath and begins her walk again. It's a testament to the change in her, that the tears do not come, there is a weariness in her eyes that Drew would recognize if he saw it, but they remain dry, greyish-green like a tossed sea.

Walking back to the house, a smile appears again, the pain, after all, will keep her sharp, will make her ready, will teach her discipline and control. In as much as she understood Drew's plans, she knew he would need her, for comfort, for counsel, for simple trust. She would give it, and he would give her as much in return, and next time, next time, perhaps he would judge her ready for a real role. The fine, golden web of the politics of the Kithain stretch out before her, etched in the morning dew, slowly becoming less obfuscated with each meeting, with each conversation. She would learn it, and she would know it well, and she would make Winter's Heart proud.

"There's my girl."



I've got the brains, you've got the looks
Let's make lots of money
You've got the brawn, I've got the brains
Let's make lots of -

I've had enough of scheming and messing around with jerks
My car is parked outside, I'm afraid it doesn't work
I'm looking for a partner, someone who gets things fixed
Ask yourself this question: Do you want to be rich?

I've got the brains, you've got the looks
Let's make lots of money
You've got the brawn, I've got the brains
Let's make lots of money

You can tell I'm educated, I studied at the Sorbonne
Doctored in mathematics, I could have been a don
I can program a computer, choose the perfect time
If you've got the inclination, I have got the crime

Oh, there's a lot of opportunities
If you know when to take them, you know?
There's a lot of opportunities
If there aren't, you can make them
Make or break them

I've got the brains, you've got the looks
Let's make lots of money
Let's make lots of -
(Aahhhhh) Money
(Aahhhhh)
(Aahhhhh - Di du da di da bu di ba)

You can see I'm single-minded, I know what I could be
How'd you feel about it, come and take a walk with me?
I'm looking for a partner, regardless of expense
Think about it seriously, you know, it makes sense

Let's (Got the brains)
Make (Got the looks)
Let's make lots of money (Oohh money)
(Let's) You've got the brawn
(Make) I've got the brains
Let's make lots of money (Oohh money)

I've got the brains (Got the brains)
You've got the looks (Got the looks)
Let's make lots of money (Oohh money)
Money

--Pet Shop Boys

Before she leaves Denver, Ella stops by the house, collects up Chandra, and leaves a letter for Robyn. The letter is written longhand on fine paper, and smells faintly of Ella's perfume.

My Pirate,

I don't know where or when you will get this letter, but I only hope that you are happy and missing me as desperately as I already miss you. I wish I could have come with you to Hawaii, and I wish I could make you understand why I did not. I don't think I can, but I will do my best.

First, my love, understand that this is not a question of choosing between you and Drew. If that were the only question, I would be, I imagine, on my way to Hawaii at this moment, smiling adoringly and joyfully at you. I wish I had no other need but love, if that were the case I could live quite simply as nothing more than a satellite of you. Even as it is, though my needs are many, I love you so much that I can almost live on nothing but the love of you and the joy of your smile.

I wish I could be so simply pleased, but you cannot understand my love, how adrift I feel in Denver. I have passed my days with nothing to do but paint and pine for you when you are not near. Aside from you I feel alone, a few pleasant acquaintences but no true friends, and no true purpose. I cannot live my life idly, and returning to Winter's Heart offers me challenges that I need to feel fulfilled. Everything in my world has become centered around you, and I tried, I tried to make you understand, to make you see the way I truly did feel like your concubine, like a well kept pet in a tall cage of glass and steel. You have selected clothing for me, selected teachers, selected a life, and though I know you had no wish to control me, to own me, nonetheless this is what has come to pass. You don't know how difficult it was not to run to your side, just at the hint of you calling for me. If you had told me that you needed me, I would have been there without question.

I hope you can understand how much I need to return to Winter's Heart, to have a purpose, to have study, to be in the woods that fill my heart with peace. I hope you can understand how much I need to grow, if I am to be something more than a decorative object in your condominium. I want to be a partner to you, my love, but more and more I have been realizing that I am ill equipped for it.

I hope that you will come to Winter's Heart soon, I yearn so to be held in your arms again. My heart aches from knowing that I have caused you pain, but please know that I do what I believe is best, for both of us.

Always your princess,

Ella

Somedays I think
I'm going to give it all away
Find a job that pays
Some letters behind my name.

Somedays I'll be
Standing at a mirror looking in
Your face starts fading in
The feeling comes again.

I guess I'll always be
The losing side of you.
Your mismatched other shoe
Your after midnight blues.

Love is a mystery to me
A loser's dream.

These days
Are spent in hot desire to be the way I was
To ride the magic bus
To try and stay in touch.
Afraid
My face is just a memory to those I knew.
An influential clue
To what they have to lose.

I guess I'll always be
The losing side of you.
Your mismatched other shoe
Your after midnight blues.
Love is a mystery.
To me a distant scream.

Ella has completed more cards:

Strength:

On a garden bench, Maetremo sits, lost in thought. He wears a pair of black pants and a blue button down shirt of a heavy cloth. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, and the lines of his muscles are visible beneath the cloth. He rests his chin on one curled fist, looking off into the distance, the set of his jaw is determined, but his expression is tinged with sadness.

The Emperor:

Beneath a tree in a dappled glade, Naesin sits cross legged. He wears a pair of black pants and a soft grey hooded sweatshirt, and, incongruously, a graceful silver circlet on his head, set with an opal. Despite the casual pose and clothing, his expression and bearing radiate a gentle, even, command and strength. His lips are curved in a small smile and his eyes focus outward, almost seeming to look at anyone who holds the card.

The World

Ella sits on a swing, before a starry landscape. She wears a soft silk dress of blues and greens, and holds her hands out in front of her, palms up. Floating above her hands is a globe. Her hair seems to float around her face, almost as if electrified and her face glows with a light of love.

Judgment

The goddess Kali, in full glory, stands huge and awe-inspiring in a temple that barely fits her immense form. Below her, on the temple floor, comparitvely tiny Sidhe kneel and lie before her, some in apparent ecstasy, others in fear, still others in worshipful obesiance.

Ella awakes from the glade, charcoal black eyes flying open, expression set in a mask of calm. Her movements are slow, careful, precise. She stands from the chair she was in, lifting the kitten Chandra from her lap, ignoring the soft mew of protest. She walks quietly through the apartment, blackish red hair swinging against her body as she moves. She passes through the room without touching anything, without looking at anything, moving like a white ghost, lips and hair like blood. She walks into the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. It is a study in contrasts, small, delicate features frozen into a cold, blank calm, black eyes staring out from her bone white face, full lips like a bloody wound, dark red and lush. She stares at her reflection calmly for a good fifteen minutes, this is how long she lasts before her control breaks, hearing the quiet judgement of Drew's voice in her head even as her neutral facade disappears.

Her small fist slams into the mirror, cracking it and driving shards of glass into her hand. Her face shifts into the portrait of impotent rage and fury. She pulls her wounded hand back, panting angrily, looking down at the blood and mirrored glass on her hand. Her eyes flash, filling with an eerie black light.

"Eshu Concubines... HOW DARE HE? I swear to all the gods that I will be sained, and I if I am not of higher rank than that bigotted fool I will achieve it and spit in his smug, vicious face."

She shakes her head angrilly, leaning forward, pressing her head to an unshattered square of glass in the mirror.

"He speaks of nobility, and is not fit to shine her boots. He knows NOTHING of me, how dare he presume to judge with his sneering jokes and his tittering jackass of a companion."

Ella comes back to herself, realizing she's bleeding and talking to herself. Shaking with anger, she runs her hand beneath the tap, wincing at the rush of cold water over the wound. She wraps her hand in a bandage and goes to the bed, lying ontop of the sheets and pulling Robyn's pillow to her, trying to catch her scent on the sheets.

In the last few days, Ella has completed the first four cards.

The Fool:

On a high cliff, Robyn stands, back straight and proud, toes at the edge of the cliff. She wears a long white silk dress, which billows out behind her in the wind. Her hands are behind her head, in the act of tying a blindfold over her eyes. The sky is filled with the brilliant light of dawn, and from the edge of the cliff near Robyn's feet. a smoky path extends up towards the rising sun.

The Magician:

On a sandswept plane, Radu stands, feet slightly spread, an enigmatic expression on his face. He wears robes of midnight blue that seem to be moving slightly around his feet as if lifted by the electicity of power. He holds one hand out, palm up, and above it, a tiny version of the solar system hovers. The other hand holds a brush which paints strange symbols on the air.

The Star:

In a dark and beautiful forest, Rowena is kneeling, wearing a sheer dress as green as the trees. She holds her arms in front of her, left hand palm down, right hand palm up hovering above the left, between her hands, a brilliant star glows. Her expression seems to be one of beautific joy, her chin tilted, eyes looking up at the trees above her.

The Hanged Man:

In a hot and smoky forge, Drew stands before an enormous anvil, he is shirtless. His left arm is raised high, holding a hammer, poised to strike the envil before him. His left arm lays across the anvil, from the elbow down, turned to metal, clearly in the process of being forged. His expression seems curiously amused.

Nestled in a curl of sheets, Ella lies on her side, head propped on one hand, hair flowing like silk down the coverlet. A cold, unthinking beam of moonlight falls across Robyn's face as she sleeps, turning her skin to silver and filling the black night of her hair with stars. The sight leaves Ella transfixed, a lump of emotion caught in her throat. She awoke to this, in the quiet hours of the night, to see Robyn laid out like some enchanted princess, and could not fall asleep again. Beneath her breast, she feels joy battle with some darker emotion. The nightmare that woke her crawls slowly back into her mind like flood water seeping blackly up through the earth. Visions of knives and blood and beautiful blue eyes filled with tears cloud her site, blocking the peaceful scene before her.

In silence she crawls from the bed, slipping into the other room and kneeling before the large window, one hand on the cool pane of glass. Her body shakes with dry, silent tears for a moment, leaning forward, pressing her head to the glass, eyes squeezed shut as if her thoughts could be blocked out by not seeing them. To the unhearing, uncaring glass she whispers.

"Please Drew, let it not be as you said, let me not be what you think I am. Save me from hurting her, save me from ruining her. Let me be the one thing in her life that does not cause her pain."

Leaning back from the window, Ella sees her own reflection, skin pale and drawn, eyelids shadowed with a need of sleep, her delicate features somber. She lifts her hand, taking her fingernail and pressing it into the wound in her hand, wincing at the pain as blood flows anew. As she speaks, she dabs her finger in the blood, placing traces of it at the center of her forehead, her eyelids, her lips, her heart, her stomach.

"With blood I bind to you,
With voice I pledge to you,
with hands I work for you,
and breath I draw for you.

If my bonds I break, let my blood spill,
If my words should harm you, let me be silent,
If my hands should pain you, let them be still,
and if this vow I should not keep, let my breath stop."

She pours glamour into the words, body glowing like a will o' the wisp in the dark room. The words carry soft power, filling the space though she speaks quietly. After a long moment she stands, going to the bathroom and gently wiping the blood from her skin with a cloth. She slides back into the bedroom and slips into bed with Robyn, wrapping her arms around the Eshu and smiling softly as Robyn murmurs quietly in her sleep.

You.

Do not think that I do not see how acutely you feel each thing that touches you. I wish I could bring the joy your life so desperately needs, but I have not the strength, the wisdom, to find my way through the labyrinth of you. I never set out to bring you pain, I never wielded a weapon against your gentle heart. Yet I have cut you deeper than I knew I had the violence for, and I can see the damage done. In time, when I have learned the strength, the goodness that she can teach me, I will sooth those wounds, and heal those scars. Should it take me until the end of time, my winter heart, you will not be forgotten.

You.

I did not think I had the capability for love so boundless. Each breath I take seems to bring more light and love into my soul until I am sure I will burst with the holding of it. The vision of myself that I see reflected in your eyes is greater than I believe I could ever be, but I will trust in you, and have faith that you can mold me into something finer. You shall have as much of my devotion and loyalty as you are willing to take, for truly there is nothing I will refuse you. Should I live until the end of time, my summer heart, you will ever be loved.

Who would have thought, in a mirror so dark, to find a light so bright?

I am, more joyful than I could have imagined, my body sated and sweetly bruised, my skin alive with sensation. There may be shadows over my existence, there may be monsters lurking down the path, but for today I see only sunlight. For today, I see only her.

My life seems bound to take me to strange and beautiful places, from the boundless woods of Kentucky to a luxurious penthouse filled with riches that pale in comparison to their owner, to a pirate ship where she keeps dark secrets that make my body shake with the want of them.

My Dread Pirate, my dream, my beauty, let me, if I can do nothing else in thise life, let me honor you in all that I do, and love you as you must be loved.

I HAVE no life but this,
To lead it here;
Nor any death, but lest
Dispelled from there;

Nor tie to earths to come,
Nor action new,
Except through this extent,
The realm of you.

Here I am, reflected in you.

Which of you shall drive me darker, which suffuse me with light? How will I remember what I look like, if I do not see it reflected in your eyes.



I am, in change. A leaf, falling, spiralling from a tree.

Where will I land?