p a n d o r a

“I want what you want, not what youthink I want.” He understood that it would take timeuntil she could come to terms with her own mind and body, but he did not want to influence it just because she felt like she had to please him. After a moment, he finally took her hand once more, in both of his, kind and open. “Look at the pup, not me, okay? Tell me what you want for her.”

She nodded, though the way that she cast her gaze down to her feet was undeniably out of shame, like a child who’d been scolded. “What if I don’t know what I want? Will you want for nothing?” her voice took on a subtly bitter semblance, but bitter nonetheless, her dark eyes now moved over the wolf pup again. Pandora felt as though she should have wanted to return it home, but could not feel as though it were anything but the intuition that came with what cleverness she’d been gifted with, and not from her own personal desires. While some bouts of empathy came easily, this did not. She did not know how to relate to a loss --- Epimetheus had always been at her side, however, she could anticipate the loss she’d have felt if he was gone, and it’d been that which next prompted her to speak. “I want her home, with her family,” she responded finally, catching the glossy black eyes of the creature.

“No, it’s okay — ” He does not want her to fear interacting with animals. They were the one creature that could understand her, and perhaps draw out a certain side of her that not even he could. “You are learning, Pandora, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Mistakes make us who we are,” he calmly speaks, gently, softly grasping her hand to guide her fingers in properly petting the young wolf pup between them. “This one lost her mother,” he paused, trying to hide his anger. While he loved humans, he could never understand their desire to kill, whether needlessly or for the beauty of their fear. “Would you like to help me find her a new pack?”

Her expression softened when he reassured her, and she allowed her hand to be guided back the animal with a jumpstarted resolve. She, at once, felt motivated by his confidence in her, a sort of feeling which swelled her chest, as she noted. Then, with fingers to the wolf pup’s coat again, fur brushed softly against the pads of her fingers, brushed back with a much more fluid motion than the one Pandora had taken to earlier. Epimetheus always seemed to be vastly knowledgeable when it came to animals, and he was, according to her own standards at least. However, it was also easy to confuse him as all-knowing when she understood so little herself. “Is that what you want?” her voice was soft, always gentle, but she knew they weren't the words he likely wanted to hear. She reminded herself of the individual decision making that she should have made a habit out of, face scrunching in thought. “I mean, I do. I want to.”

“If you pet the animal’s fur that way, he may end up biting your hand.”

“Oh.” She pulled her hand away reflexively, cradling it between her other. It, admittedly, could be counted discouraging that among not being able to properly interact with other people, animals might have been another species to bewilder her entirely.

“Oh, no forgive me I didn’t mean I had an appointment with him,” she told the woman. “I have….ummm.” Uriel paused as she searched for the note before holding it out to Evelyn. “From my father, he sent me over to deliver the message for him.”

Dainty fingers enclosed the envelope, turning it over with calculated grace. In some strange way, she always felt overtly protective of her uncle, to a point that even letters from distantly known figures might worry her. “I will be sure that he gets this then,” she assured, passing the parchment along to a waiting servant without moving her gaze from the other. Then, as she turned as if to leave, Evelyn pivoted back to her counterpart --- her face shrouded in a pale curiosity. “Some ladies from about the city are gathered in the drawing room and, to be frank, their predatory smiles and senseless gossip are stifling. Might I be able to bribe you into the bearing the torture with me?”

Dorothy nodded sternly. “Yes, of course.” She provided the girl with hat she’s requested, and added in a kinder tone. “Would you like something else with it? You can pick something sweet, if you’d like. I won’t tell a soul.” She added as she noticed the girl’s obvious discomfort.

Raised under the limiting ideals of those she claimed as parents, Evelyn had always been scolded against asking for what she’d wanted --- to only accept when explicitly offered. To add, she had also been warned against excessive eating, even when one felt on the brink of starvation, at least, as a woman. Nevertheless, she accepted the broth with hungry gratitude, balancing it between her hands when asked if she’d wanted more --- something which drew a crooked smile to her face, “You are far too kind to offer, but I’m sure this will be more than enough. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to sneak around, just say what is it that you need and it will be done.” Dorothy has turned her head to look at the intruder. “Just make haste. This bread won’t make itself.”

Just say it, of course. Her hands pulled from the counters with the shame of child discovered stealing treats, ears coloured in bashful reds and mouth moved with what might have been some quickly thought up explanation as to why a noble lady might be raiding the kitchens. Yet, instead she spoke of what was asked for, thinking it better to not have readdressed the issue, “Just broth --- if you please. I was only feeling a bit peckish.” 

“Pardon me, miss. I must have the wrong room. I was looking for a friend of mine and got lost.” Clara stood in the doorway, a little unsure what to do. The girl looked very tired, though still pretty, perhaps she should close the curtains and advice the girl to go back to sleep. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I only need to get back to the servants’ wing.” 

“That’s fine, of course. I’m not sure I know the way much better than you but I could certainly try to help if you’d like,” she paused, running her palms over her skirts as if to smooth them out as an amused smile befell her, “It might help me wake up a bit more, at least.”

“Okay then. Would you like me to get you something to drink?”

She didn’t regularly drink, Evelyn --- but she certainly felt motivated to. Nodding her head, albeit a bit hesitantly, she answered, “Yes, that’d be lovely.”

The girl nodded, in understanding. “Rough day, my lady? Are you well?”

“A bit of one, but I’m sure that I’m fine. I think just sitting for a moment will settle me, thank you,” she replied earnestly with a breathy laugh.

“I try to see the good in people, and if I feel the need to point it out, then I will.” He tried to was the key word; sometimes all he wanted to do was blame the ones who hurt him, to put his problems on the shoulders of others, but he constantly had to force himself to overlook it.

At the sound of his gibe little scoff, that temper of his rose up once more, and he couldn’t help but let out a groan of utter frustration as he turned upon the other. “And I’m not talking about carnie acts either, Edward. Maybe if you listened to what I say instead of brushing it off, you’d know that. You think that plays were as serious as this one? Before William worked for the Queen, only playful acts of comedy were given permission to be allowed on stage. You were lucky getting this role, considering how much you seem to admire its grandeur.”

It sounded so strange to hear this from someone who was in the same position as he, a servant of some noble, a stable boy. How many times had Elias put himself in humiliating positions just to please some noble man or woman? How many plays had he been in where he kissed a dog upon the muzzle, or threw flowers at the feet of jesters just to please simple minded people? He hated when he wasn’t taken seriously, so to know that Romeo and Juliet would be different, that he would be given this chance only to have it taken  from him by some boorish boy only served to anger him further.

“You won’t always find the splendor you’re looking for in these plays.” He was trying to be polite with this boy, but all he ever seemed to get was some negativity. “You speak of me making assumptions, but here you are, putting words in my mouth. I never said you were wasting my time. You don’t seem to value yourself very highly if you think that is how I feel.”

With a shake of his head, he stands and grabs at the vest to his costume, fingers dug deep so that his knuckles were white.

“If you want to spend the night alone and act like a sullen child, I won’t stop you. But if you change your mind and want company, you’ll know where to find me and Alexander.”

“Tell me, when does one warrant the need for their hubris to be pointed out? I mean, excuse me if I don’t share your positive ideals.” Her arms pulled together tightly across her chest with his words, wound nearly as tightly as she was. She wanted to scream at him that he was wrong, if only for sake of her pride, but she knew that reality wouldn’t allow. Each statement he made was fair --- of course they were, but she’d have been damned to admit that. Nobility befit her with that thought, she supposed, as she possessed the overbearing self regard of one.

It seemed too, that her ignorance ignited fury like any other’s. The bite seeping through his tone might have been enough to make her flinch, but it wasn’t, and she didn’t. “Should I clarify everythin’ that I say for you? Elias, I wasn’t referencing plays before this one --- not any sort of comedy, not when I spoke of true works. As I said, I base my views in William’s work. Perhaps if you weren’t so hell bent on disagreeing with me at every turn, you might have realized that,” the disdain was thrown right back at him for his own, her voice threatening to reach a pitch that would have surely betrayed her identity, but he seemed to have that affect. Whether it was fury or confusion, it seemed as though he knew all the right buttons to push to get her heart racing impossibly fast, or to halt it altogether. His next words had the affect of the latter, urging a bitter laugh from her, “You have no idea.”

Her voice had shook with her rising temper, digits curled into small fists at her sides with knuckles gone white. It felt as though she’d never been so outraged in her life, but especially outwardly. Regularly, Evelyn had more control over her emotions but the freedom to express them refused to allow her to hold back. The only problem being that it was positively maddening to be so incredibly open, and with all of her senses in overload with skin on fire and pounding in her ears with the rush of blood and red which seeped into her gaze as if she were an animal. She wished he would have simply accepted her ideals or lied altogether, but he wouldn’t have, not unless she were Evelyn again. But at the same time, she was grateful for the show of raw emotion that he coaxed forth.  

“Is everything always so literal with you? That was dry humour, Elias,” his name felt strange leaving her mouth in such a spiteful way, when before this, there was almost a sense of fondness for his kindness. The problem now was that he no longer cared to deal with her brattiness, or so she would have guessed. 

To his words, she supposed that in the grand scheme of things that she didn't want to be alone --- not really, but her anger made her want to answer 'yes' to his ultimatum. The only thing was that she didn't.