RVA: Shadow of Doubt, Enough
Apr. 14th, 2016 01:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeriendhalNote: Revised and expanded from the original version.
* * *
Salli stood in front her parents, palms clasped tightly behind her back, feeling her toe claws dig into the soft carpeting on the floor. She tried to moderate her anger. Her earlier outcry had been a mistake in this arena. Soft words, she reminded herself, would be more cutting.
Any more soft words in Ali’s direction, and I do believe she will bleed to death from them.
“May I ask you a question?” Salli said to her parents. Her mother looked back at her with a look of mild exasperation. Her father’s expression was more embarrassed. Good. She would keep her focus on Mother then.
“What more questions could you have, Sallivera?” her mother asked. “The matter is settled.”
“To your satisfaction, perhaps. Not to mine,” Salli answered tightly.
“What do you need to know, Salli dear?” her father asked, shooting a quelling to look to her mother.
“What would be enough?” Salli demanded, flexing her finger claws against her palm pads. They dug in, little sparks of pain. Nothing compared to the pain in her heart, but enough to remind her of her goal here.
“What do you mean ‘enough?’” Mother asked.
“I mean that I know perfectly well you consider Alinadar an unsuitable spouse for me. She’s a Commoner. She’s a criminal. She’s a pirate. She’s a cub murderer. She’s insane. I know this.”
“Then why do you insist to defending her, to the point of risking your own reputation?” Mother demanded.
“Why should I not?” Salli asked in return. “In the Mother Goddess’ eyes no one is beyond redemption. Should I assume Ali is somehow invisible to Her gaze? Should I make myself blind in turn?”
“You said it yourself,” her father said uncomfortably, “she’s a cub murderer.”
“And by Foxen law she should die for this,” Salli said impatiently. “And she has. Her heart stopped for thirty seconds on the operating table when we were rescued by the Red Vixen. Her spirit was killed decades before though.”
“Salli,” her mother said, her voice marked by a slight sing-song tone, as if she was addressing a petulant cubling, “You’re being unreasonable about this.”
“I challenge your definition of ‘unreasonable,’” she counted. “It is unreasonable for someone to have their entire family murdered in front of them when they are six years old. It is unreasonable for their foster family to be that same band of murderous thugs. It is unreasonable for them to force her in turn either commit murder herself or be tortured and killed.
Salli narrowed her good eye, staring her mother down. “Again, all I want to know is the answer to one simple question. What would be enough for you?”
“What do you mean?” her mother asked.
“How much suffering, pain, and humiliation must Alinadar go through before you will say, ‘Yes, you’ve paid enough for you crimes. You can stop now. Stop kneeling before your betters. Stop eating dirt. Stop keeping silent while you’re plastered with every horrible label imaginable, ‘criminal’, ‘pirate’, ‘murderer’, ‘psychopath’, ‘slave.’ I saw her gut shot trying to defend me. I saw hung from a torture frame by Bloody Margo, bloody, wounded, shaved, to die in the cold and the rain. I saw her literally strip naked before me, to confess every horrible crime she committed. She had convinced herself by that point that she was beyond redemption, undeserving of love or forgiveness, only worthy of death. And I know she would have been willing to die, if it would have saved me.
Salli panted, fists clenched, empty eye socket throbbing in old ghost pain, angrier now than she could ever remember. “So I ask again: What is enough? What can Ali possibly say or do that would convince you she is worthy of being my wife, or anyone’s wife? Do you have an answer for me? Because if you don’t, I will walk away from you and from House Darktail and from all the woes that being a member of this family has brought me, and I will not look back.”
“Salli…” her mother began to say, her voice lowering in warning, her own anger obvious from her flattened ears.
“Dearest,” her father interrupted. He rose from his desk, laying a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “I believe Salli has brought up some cogent points that we need to discuss. Together, Matri.”
“This is a head of household matter,” her mother began to say, turning in annoyance to look up at him. “The Mother Goddess’ authority is bound to me in this.”
Salli’s father shook his head once, slowly, deliberately. “In over thirty years of marriage I have deferred to you in most things. I’m your husband; it’s my job to support you. You in turn have trusted my judgement enough to let me participate in most of your decisions, to point out things you may have missed, or flaws in your reasoning. That is until now.” His grip on her shoulder tightened. “You’ve been shutting me out from the start of this mess. It’s past time we discussed it.”
“There is nothing to discuss, Hario,” she began to say.
“Salli,” her father said, without breaking eye contact with his wife, “your mother and I need some private time together. Go check on your Ali for us, would you?”
“Yes, Father.” Salli bowed quickly and ducked out of the room, her fury dissipating suddenly, leaving her stomach in freefall. She tried to remember the last time she’d ever seen her father angry, and came up blank.
“Um, Lady Sallivera?” Her mother’s secretary, Sef, who had been manning his desk when they had all trooped in fifteen minutes earlier, looked at her in confusion and dismay as she closed the door. “I thought I heard shouting. Is everything alright?”
“Not… yet,” Salli answered slowly, regaining her equilibrium. “Excuse me.”
She went upstairs, to Ali.
* * *
Salli stood in front her parents, palms clasped tightly behind her back, feeling her toe claws dig into the soft carpeting on the floor. She tried to moderate her anger. Her earlier outcry had been a mistake in this arena. Soft words, she reminded herself, would be more cutting.
Any more soft words in Ali’s direction, and I do believe she will bleed to death from them.
“May I ask you a question?” Salli said to her parents. Her mother looked back at her with a look of mild exasperation. Her father’s expression was more embarrassed. Good. She would keep her focus on Mother then.
“What more questions could you have, Sallivera?” her mother asked. “The matter is settled.”
“To your satisfaction, perhaps. Not to mine,” Salli answered tightly.
“What do you need to know, Salli dear?” her father asked, shooting a quelling to look to her mother.
“What would be enough?” Salli demanded, flexing her finger claws against her palm pads. They dug in, little sparks of pain. Nothing compared to the pain in her heart, but enough to remind her of her goal here.
“What do you mean ‘enough?’” Mother asked.
“I mean that I know perfectly well you consider Alinadar an unsuitable spouse for me. She’s a Commoner. She’s a criminal. She’s a pirate. She’s a cub murderer. She’s insane. I know this.”
“Then why do you insist to defending her, to the point of risking your own reputation?” Mother demanded.
“Why should I not?” Salli asked in return. “In the Mother Goddess’ eyes no one is beyond redemption. Should I assume Ali is somehow invisible to Her gaze? Should I make myself blind in turn?”
“You said it yourself,” her father said uncomfortably, “she’s a cub murderer.”
“And by Foxen law she should die for this,” Salli said impatiently. “And she has. Her heart stopped for thirty seconds on the operating table when we were rescued by the Red Vixen. Her spirit was killed decades before though.”
“Salli,” her mother said, her voice marked by a slight sing-song tone, as if she was addressing a petulant cubling, “You’re being unreasonable about this.”
“I challenge your definition of ‘unreasonable,’” she counted. “It is unreasonable for someone to have their entire family murdered in front of them when they are six years old. It is unreasonable for their foster family to be that same band of murderous thugs. It is unreasonable for them to force her in turn either commit murder herself or be tortured and killed.
Salli narrowed her good eye, staring her mother down. “Again, all I want to know is the answer to one simple question. What would be enough for you?”
“What do you mean?” her mother asked.
“How much suffering, pain, and humiliation must Alinadar go through before you will say, ‘Yes, you’ve paid enough for you crimes. You can stop now. Stop kneeling before your betters. Stop eating dirt. Stop keeping silent while you’re plastered with every horrible label imaginable, ‘criminal’, ‘pirate’, ‘murderer’, ‘psychopath’, ‘slave.’ I saw her gut shot trying to defend me. I saw hung from a torture frame by Bloody Margo, bloody, wounded, shaved, to die in the cold and the rain. I saw her literally strip naked before me, to confess every horrible crime she committed. She had convinced herself by that point that she was beyond redemption, undeserving of love or forgiveness, only worthy of death. And I know she would have been willing to die, if it would have saved me.
Salli panted, fists clenched, empty eye socket throbbing in old ghost pain, angrier now than she could ever remember. “So I ask again: What is enough? What can Ali possibly say or do that would convince you she is worthy of being my wife, or anyone’s wife? Do you have an answer for me? Because if you don’t, I will walk away from you and from House Darktail and from all the woes that being a member of this family has brought me, and I will not look back.”
“Salli…” her mother began to say, her voice lowering in warning, her own anger obvious from her flattened ears.
“Dearest,” her father interrupted. He rose from his desk, laying a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “I believe Salli has brought up some cogent points that we need to discuss. Together, Matri.”
“This is a head of household matter,” her mother began to say, turning in annoyance to look up at him. “The Mother Goddess’ authority is bound to me in this.”
Salli’s father shook his head once, slowly, deliberately. “In over thirty years of marriage I have deferred to you in most things. I’m your husband; it’s my job to support you. You in turn have trusted my judgement enough to let me participate in most of your decisions, to point out things you may have missed, or flaws in your reasoning. That is until now.” His grip on her shoulder tightened. “You’ve been shutting me out from the start of this mess. It’s past time we discussed it.”
“There is nothing to discuss, Hario,” she began to say.
“Salli,” her father said, without breaking eye contact with his wife, “your mother and I need some private time together. Go check on your Ali for us, would you?”
“Yes, Father.” Salli bowed quickly and ducked out of the room, her fury dissipating suddenly, leaving her stomach in freefall. She tried to remember the last time she’d ever seen her father angry, and came up blank.
“Um, Lady Sallivera?” Her mother’s secretary, Sef, who had been manning his desk when they had all trooped in fifteen minutes earlier, looked at her in confusion and dismay as she closed the door. “I thought I heard shouting. Is everything alright?”
“Not… yet,” Salli answered slowly, regaining her equilibrium. “Excuse me.”
She went upstairs, to Ali.
