Authors: Astrid Yrigollen
“A man!?” He said angrily. I said nothing this time but continued to look ahead of me, keeping still not wanting to move an inch less my tears spill out. Why is it that when we think in our minds that we have put something far away from us, that it does not hurt or bother us, it comes back to pain us at the most inconvenient of times?
“Why did he want to hurt you? Who is he? Where is this man now?” I shook my head “no”, indicating that I could not answer at present.
“You won’t answer me Claren?” He prompted visibly upset. He seemed surprised that I would not answer his questions. I am sure in his mind he could see no reason why I would withhold information. From what I was learning of Etrigan he was very open and forth right. He would say things that were blunt and untactful but honest. I remained still. I felt his wing embrace my shoulder and part of my back as he used it to turn me to face him. The talon at the edge of his wing was sharp, but I felt no pain. He looked into my eyes and seemed surprised to see my watery eyes. His face registered further shock and confusion.
“You are in pain now. I see it, so I won’t ask you any more questions except this last one. Did he,” he hesitated, looked down at the ground and finished his question, “hurt you?”
“No.” I whispered knowing what he was implying. He sighed and used his wing again to pull me forward to him where he embraced me with his arms. I felt stiff in his arms but he crushed me to his chest giving me no choice to pull away. He was clearly stronger than I was and would have me in his arms whether I wanted to be there or not.
“Claren, let go of your pain. I will be your friend if you wish, I will share your pain with you.” I relaxed as he spoke to my heart, letting my head rest upon his chest, taking in his smells and warmth. I could feel his hardened muscles underneath the thin fabric of his shirt moving as he shifted his arms to hold me closer. He smelled of dried flowers and exotic spices that triggered memories that took me back to my childhood. A feeling of safety and security and being enveloped by love washed over me.
I don’t know how long we stood like that, frozen in silence as the world around us was covered in mist and cold. I do know that when my tears subsided, Naza was laying at our feet fast asleep. I brought my hand up to wipe my tears away but he stopped me, gently taking my hand. He brought his own hand up to my face, and while looking into my eyes, wiped away my tears.
“I seem to always cry around you.” I said quietly.
“You carry around a lot of pain Claren. If you had wings like mine you would never be able to get off the ground with that amount of pain.”
“If I had wings like yours?” I repeated. He smiled gently and continued to wipe away the tears that had remained on my cheek.
“That is what I thought that first night we talked by the pond. You remember when you ran away from me? You were crying then, your hot cheek pressed to the cool stone. I watched you cry and could not imagine what had happened to you that made you cry so. I could not believe that your little body could hold so much liquid.” I listened quietly as he went on.
“When you ran away from me, I understood you were running, not because you were afraid of me, but because you wanted to hide your tears. I realized that I had been treating you cruelly since you arrived, making you feel unwelcome. We were not friends and you would not share your inner most feelings with me. I have always longed for a friend of my own, and here I was driving away someone who might accept me as one. When I feel sad I take to the sky, flying always makes me feel better. I thought that with your burden of sorrow you could never fly away on your own, so I carried you.”
“Thank you.” I said feeling shy as he let his wings go back to their natural resting place.
“I am apologizing to you Claren.” He stated flatly looking in to my eyes with all seriousness.
“I accept your apology.” I said feeling drained but as though a burden was beginning to lift from me.
“Do you accept my friendship then?”
“Most gladly I do Etrigan, most gladly.” His face lit up in a beautiful smile as he pinched my cheek softly. I would be grateful for his friendship and would treasure it always.
The next week Mrs. Whitby and I went on the hunt yet again for a dress for the Celestial Ball. She informed me of things about this occasion that I had no idea. Since “the boys” (as I began to think of Dekker and Horace) had only told me it was a masquerade ball, I did not have much to go off of.
“Oh no my Dear! It’s not just any costume party! Heavens no! You see the theme is Celestial, meaning everyone dresses with white wings. I am surprised those gentlemen did not tell you this!”
“As am I. That would have been embarrassing if I showed up dressed like something off theme.”
“Well it couldn’t be that bad, what would you dress up as if I hadn’t told you?”
“A donkey.” I said and laughed as the carriage bumped along the road.
“A donkey?” Mrs. Whitby’s eyes grew wide with disbelief.
“Why on earth a donkey?” She sputtered laughing.
“Because I usually feel like one and I know no one else would have the same costume as mine.” I laughed feeling lighthearted.
“You can be very silly Miss, but I have to say, I have grown quite attached to you.” She placed her hand on my arm and smiled warmly.
“And I to you, Mrs. Whitby.”
“Have things gotten better with the young Master? It seems like there aren’t any more soggy carpets to replace in your room or muddy dresses.” I smiled thinking of Etrigan and wondered what he was doing right at this moment. He was confined to Westwind, but I could go out in public. I wondered if he felt lonely when I left.
“Yes, he has stopped the tricks which I am happy about.” The carriage stopped in front of a small house. I popped my head out of the carriage as the driver came around to let us out. Mrs. Whitby looked at me as if expecting me to say more about Etrigan, which I did not. Is it possible that she had seen us on our walks together?
“Where are we, Mrs. Whitby?” I asked as she led me to the front gate. The house had a small front yard with a sleeping grey cat sitting on the porch.
“Driver please wait for us, we won’t be but a few minutes.” Mrs. Whitby directed her comment to the driver then hurried to the front door.
“We are at the best kept secret here in the city. This is a personal friend of mine. She is a seamstress of unequaled talent but she specializes in wings for the Celestial ball. I refer people to her but she always has work, year around. One thing you perhaps noticed about this city, is that there are no shortages of social events and parties.” I nodded even though I myself had only gone to one other ball since arriving, but the invitations that Dekker and Horace had sent me was proof enough.
Mrs. Whitby continued.
“As soon as you let me know that you were going to accompany the gentlemen to the ball, I brought your white dress here, to Hanna. She’s made you a new matching dress, similar to your white one and a pair of wings lovely enough to be envied.” I was surprised that Mrs. Whitby went and did such a thing on her own. I did not mind that she did it, just surprised.
“Mrs. Whitby that was so thoughtful of you. I know that I can be a little,” I paused knowing that she was going to say something about my lack of interest in my wardrobe, “…absent minded when it comes to clothing or outfits for occasions such as these but…” She cut me off.
“A little? You seem to pay no mind to them at all! Why, you don’t even have your spring wardrobe ready and here we are January! All young ladies in Society have to plan their wardrobes for the season!” I was hardly a lady “in Society” as she put it. I was saved from further lecture by the door opening and a short lady wearing electronic spectacles appeared.
“I thought I heard your voice Esther! This must be the lovely Miss Lowood?”
I don’t know about the lovely or Lowood part.
I thought to myself as I extended my hand to greet this smiling woman.
“Hello, so very nice to meet you.” I said as she ushered us in to her home.
“I was a little worried about the dress for you, since I had no fittings, but seeing you now, I know it will be a perfect fit!” Mrs. Whitby smiled at me excitedly as Hanna went into another room. Hanna returned with a beautiful all black dress in her arms. She twittered happily about how quickly she was able to make it. The dress itself was cut identical to my white one with a satin bodice but it was black and without the gem adornments on the bodice or hem. The skirt itself was made out of long layers of black soft tulle that made me think of a ballerina. Hanna then went back in to her work room and brought out a pair of large, feathered wings. They were black. I was surprised at the choice of color but said nothing. I had naturally assumed that at this ball, whose theme was the heavens, I would wear white wings.
Mrs. Whitby gathered both my dresses and chatted with Hanna as I traced my finger over the black wings. They were made of a soft fabric with small gems stitched in to it at various places. I could tell right away that the effect these wings would have under the light would be subtle but beautiful.
“They are beautiful.” I said in compliment. Hanna smiled as she walked us to the door.
“I am so glad you like it Miss Lowood. I have another appointment to go to so I cannot offer you a fitting right now, but if you go home and find it doesn’t fit, then ring me and I will come over to alter it on site!” She patted my shoulder and turned to Mrs. Whitby.
“Esther, don’t be a stranger now.” She hugged Mrs. Whitby and waved goodbye as we entered the carriage.
“They are spectacular aren’t they Miss?” Esther said as we headed home to Westwind.
“Very beautiful. I can’t thank you enough for going through the trouble of securing your friend for the work. It’s amazing, people having such talent.” Mrs. Whitby nodded.
“Hanna is a dear friend and I am just glad to give her the work, not that she needs it, mind you.”
“Mrs. Whitby, I do have a question though.”
“Yes?” She said as she looked through her handbag.
“I thought that the Celestial ball was supposed to be a heaven themed occasion, why did you choose black for my gown and wings?”
“Why, to match the young Master’s of course.”
There are not many times in my life that I could think of that I was actually shocked speechless. I hear people use that phrase or read it in books, but it had never happened to me before. I now understood what happens when one becomes speechless with shock. So many questions rushed to the forefront of my mind and I could not choose one to let out and ask. After a few minutes of silence with Mrs. Whitby looking through her purse I finally chose my question, a rather simple one.
“You know?” I asked stupidly. She closed her handbag and rubbed her chin.
“Yes I know. I finally got it out of that Thomas. I was so vexed that the young Master would treat you the way he was. Thomas and I have always shared everything. I know there are some things he has kept from me to shield me, protect me. He has handled and bore the pressure of many burdens without telling me throughout our marriage.” The carriage rattled on as the steam horses billowed their cold steam out of their nostrils making the misty day even mistier.
“But I finally sat him down and questioned him about the young Master. He swore me to secrecy which of course was not necessary. He told me of his deformity and I do have to say I feel for him. Always being shut away, a young man like that. It’s a shame and I wonder why he was cursed so. Thomas says that he is a kind young man, maybe a little rough, but truly meant you no harm. I was glad to hear when he stopped his silly tricks on you. I did not want him to drive you away, you’ve been a great company to me Miss.”
“He has shown me great kindness Mrs. Whitby. I hope to become great friends with him and perhaps he will start coming out more during the day. If perhaps he knew you and your grandson would not be frightened away …” I trailed off.
“If my Thomas can talk to him as he does, if you can talk to him, I see no reason why I should run away like some school girl. My grandson however is a different matter. Because he is young he might want to get to gossiping with his friends. I would not want that sort of talk to come back in to Master Lowood’s ears. I would feel awful if he heard stories about his son, that my Timothy had started!” I saw her point and knew that if Timothy was already the sort to sell information about Mr. Lowood’s whereabouts to Dekker and Horace, well there was a strong chance he would also tell others of Etrigan’s appearance.