Rachel Caustello (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thecutdiamond) wrote2012-10-23 01:26 pm
thecutdiamond) wrote2012-10-23 01:26 pm
100 Fairy Tales
| 001. | The fox as shepherd. | 002. | Curing a sick lion. | 003. | The saving blood. | 004. | The first to see the sunrise. | 005. | Learning to fear men. -past!Rachel |
| 006. | What was whispered in his ear. -Young!Edchel | 007. | Blood-brothers. | 008. | Sin and grace. -Mensverse!Rachel | 009. | The danced-out shoes. | 010. | The princess in the shroud. |
| 011. | The girl as helper in the hero’s fight. -returned!Rachel | 012. | The youth transformed. -AU!Edchel | 013. | The magician and his pupil. | 014. | The youth who wanted to learn what fear is. | 015. | Little brother and little sister. |
| 016. | Sleeping beauty. | 017. | Friends in life and death. -Eddrew brotp | 018. | The bridge to the other world. | 019. | The confession. | 020. | All stick together. -Pierchel |
| 021. | Beloved of women. | 022. | The dance among thorns. | 023. | The devil’s contract. | 024. | Open sesame. | 025. | Invisible voices. |
| 026. | Her only trick. | 027. | The hunter. | 028. | The lazy boy. | 029. | The snare. | 030. | The rhyme. |
| 031. | Thank you three times. | 032. | Why it turned winter. | 033. | The spider brings luck. | 034. | A pound of flesh. -Lysa | 035. | Wise through experience. |
| 036. | Like wind in the hot sun. | 037. | The blood that testified to the truth. | 038. | The partition of an inheritance. | 039. | Bargain not to become angry. | 040. | Casting eyes. |
| 041. | Cleaning the child. -H/V!Sydney & Cadogan | 042. | Contest in words. | 043. | The ogre injured. | 044. | As much as you can carry. | 045. | With his whole heart. |
| 046. | The man who competes with the devil. | 047. | The girl who ate so little. | 048. | Sunlight carried into the windowless house. -Rachel and Eileen | 049. | The man takes seriously the prediction of death. | 050. | Mistaken identity. |
| 051. | Fools frightened. | 052. | Sailing in a contrary wind. | 053. | Hospitality. | 054. | How wide the world is. | 055. | The girl who patched her apron. |
| 056. | The silence wager. | 057. | The old woman as troublemaker. | 058. | The girl who does not know herself. | 059. | The thunderstorm. | 060. | Staying with a friend in rainy weather. |
| 061. | The practical girl. -Mensverse!Adair | 062. | Keeping up appearances. | 063. | Clean and tidy. | 064. | Nothing to cook. | 065. | The dead shall remain dead. -Edchel (two in one!) |
| 066. | A clever boy. | 067. | The girl who ran so fast. | 068. | Carrying part of the load. | 069. | The girl who wanted to be always young. | 070. | The first harbinger of spring. |
| 071. | Cleverness and gullibility. -Rachel and Eileen | 072. | For the long winter. | 073. | Know-it-all. | 074. | Building castles in the air. | 075. | What should I have said? |
| 076. | The forgotten word. | 077. | Jealousy. | 078. | Two match-makers. | 079. | Echo answers. | 080. | Can’t take a joke. |
| 081. | Cards fall from the sleeve of the preacher. | 082. | The man who will never say thanks. | 083. | The girl who is spinning the thread of fate. | 084. | Good-bye, you dirty world. | 085. | 'Who gives his own goods shall receive it back tenfold.' |
| 086. | Three words at the grave. -Edchel | 087. | Imagined penance for imagined sin. -canon!Rachel | 088. | A realistic demonstration. -Hollywood!Rachel and kiddos | 089. | You shall see me a little while longer. | 090. | Another matter. -Ace!Rachel |
| 091. | Too much talk. | 092. | Wishing contests. | 093. | A miraculous escape. | 094. | Good luck. | 095. | I knew you were coming. -Hollywood!Sydilim |
| 096. | Unusual hearing. -Edchel | 097. | The wishing ring. -Hollywood!Syd/ Feilim | 098. | No time for sickness. | 099. | The lucky shot. | 100. | The poisoned apple. |
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006. What was whispered in his ear. Young!Edchel
012. The youth transformed. AU!marriedwithbb!Edchel
048. Sunlight carried into the windowless house. Rachel and Eileen
061. The practical girl. Mensverse!grownup!Adair
088. A realistic demonstration. Hollywood!Rachel & childrens
097. The wishing ring. Hollywood!Sydney/Feilim
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The infection of the (final) wounds Shea inflicted on her leave her feverish, delusional. She drifts in and out of consciousness, too far gone to even begin to be concerned at the thought that this is probably going to be the last straw-- the others will not tolerate her sneaking off to the Spades Castle again, not after this.
Edgar sits at her bedside, dabs at her burning forehead with a cool towel, murmurs soft words of encouragement to her as she sleeps. Sometimes she's able to take in what he's saying. Most of the time she doesn't.
When the fever breaks, she's able to regain coherency enough to recognize that it's him there next to her. She attempts to reach out to him, fails with a wince as the motion tugs at healing wounds. “...Ed.”
He leans in close to her, presses a kiss on her forehead, “I'm here, Rach.”
“Mm.” she manages weakly, already slipping back into unconsciousness, “...Love you, y'know? Like... more'n a friend or brother.”
She doesn't note the surprise in his expression, with her vision darkening again. Can only mutter, “'n love with you, I think,” before she sleeps once more. It doesn't matter.
When she comes to properly, he's still there, and she has her answer.
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They aren't children anymore. Stopped being that when they turned fifteen-- and before that, really, when one took attitude into account. But things really started to change the night her decision to leave turned into a need to stay, although neither of them realized how much of a necessity it was until a couple months later, when she approached him on the verge of hysteria.
But that's in the past, now, and Ariel is a joy, a wonder, a little lioness. Rachel is a Clubs, a mother, a woman finally at peace. Edgar is almost a King, a father, a man whose life is so beautifully full. It's a happy step up from the scars their youths left on their hearts and bodies.
Sometimes, Rachel stops when passing by a mirror, caught by her reflection. She doesn't entirely recognize the woman before her-- is surprised by the lines around her eyes, the faint aura of weariness. (Doesn't realize that it is a blessing, that there is another world where the lines are caused by sorrows and not joys, where the weariness if borne of carrying the weight of the world and not a little girl upon her shoulders.)
Sometimes, Edgar catches her looking at the glass, wraps his arms around her and kisses her with the passionate sort of love that has remained unchanged since their youth. Of course she kisses back with the same ferocity.
But if she had been able to take a look in the mirror, she would have noted how youthful they still looked.
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Rachel lives in the valley of shadows.
It has been her home for many years now, since the day her mother was taken from her in the worst way possible. Back then, it was just a one-room thing, no furnishings or anything remarkable to speak of. It grew, over the years. Gained more rooms (leaving the Clubs), some places to sit (being tormented by the Givenchies), an empty fireplace (Edgar and Ophelia's deaths), proper flooring (Andrew's), and other knick-knacks (Lindsey's). There's never any glass that isn't broken (the Magician's attack) and there are no windows to let in the light of the sun.
And so, Rachel lives in an empty house engulfed in darkness, alone in the valley of shadows.
Except.
Except there is her little one, who somehow always manages to slip her way past the door, find her way to the cracks in the walls and roof and widen them a little more. And when that fails to brighten the house to a point that pleases her, she leaves and returns with a jar of sunbeams that she opens in the middle of the darkness.
And it burns, so bright with love and hope that the house crumbles around them and the valley is suddenly a meadow and the shadows are suddenly beautiful, blessed light.
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Adair walks on starlight. She chases after the trails of clouds and the tails of white rabbits in the half-hearted hope of finding the place of her birth. She's no Alice, though, so she never makes it to that not-so-Wonderland, resorts to digging holes in the ground for the sake of planting instead of falling through it.
It's not easy to put the dream away. Not when she sees others her age becoming mothers, being able to turn to their own for guidance. She's nowhere near ready to begin experiencing the former, but the latter is something she's certainly lacked the entirety of her life.
Or, well. That's not true.
She's got her father, a good solid man who offers plenty of hugs and good-night kisses, who has worked hard to keep their lives afloat as well as the memory of her mother. Who has taught his daughter all she knows about love, diligence, and knife-fighting. Everyone who sees the two of them-- whether they know of the darker parts of their history or not-- say that Adair may be her mother's spitting image, but she's undoubtedly her father's daughter.
Because Adair walks on starlight, but Addie Thomas is absolutely a well-grounded girl.
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They ask her how she does it. What part of her soul she pulls from to play the variety of characters she does. How the fierce Lady Justice in Arcana was formed, how the seductive lover in Aces was so entrancing, how the broken woman of Blood Diamond came to be, how the loving mother of The Tale of Llanfyllin could be so realistic.
She isn't able to explain to them how it is like offering the world a piece of herself. How Justice was borne of a woman wronged in youth by men who thought her choice of profession meant her easy and manipulable. How the lover came from loving and being loved deeply and passionately since youth by one man, and how the broken woman came from the crushing loss of said man.
How the mother is essentially herself, all of herself-- fierce protector, charming sweet-talker, impassioned woman-- into one. How imagining the girl she cared for in The Tale of LLanfyllin to have Eileen's smile or Darren's hair made it easier for that spirit to come through and show. There are no words to describe such things.
So instead, Diamond smiles, answers with a half-shrug, "I suppose it just comes from within."
The world doesn't need to know how she does it. The only important thing is that when she comes home at night and pulls her children close, they know that she will fight for justice in their lives to her last breath, that she will love them with the same depth of emotion as she did their father, that she would be shattered if ever they left her.
All the world needs to know is that Diamond is a Singer and an Actress.
But all her children need to know is that Rachel Eicheln is a Mother.
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They're too young. Everybody says so. Too young to know what love is, to love as deeply as they imagine they do. Far, far too young for a ring to grace her left hand and his. Sydney disagrees with everything but the last thought.
They are young. Terribly so. They've got their whole world ahead of them, a host of things to do and explore and be. Sydney's content, for now, for the both of them to do what they love to do and do best. For them to explore the world and the depths of their own mind. For them to be all they want to be for each other and for themselves.
So when Feilim offers her the ring as a gift, stutters out that it's "not meant t'mean anything serious yet, but maybe Someday" she puts it on her right ring finger and kisses him sweetly.
Right now all she wants to do is stay in his arms as long as she can. All she wants to explore is the workings of the human heart and how it can let he love somebody so. All she wants to be is his maybe Someday. And she knows that it's the same for him.
Just like she knows that when Someday comes along, they'll approach it hand in hand.