Soliloquy

I awoke quite disoriented the next morning. There was sunlight on my face, something that was unusual for my bedchamber. My room was on the western side of the house, so I had little sun in the morning. When I opened my eyes I had to cover them with my arm and looked around me. The first thing I saw was Alphonse's face and everything came back to me. I smiled. "Good morning," I said quietly. Alphonse was leaning over me, grinning, his dark hair falling around his face. His pushed away hair from my forehead gently and kissed me softly.

"This is what it will be like every morning when we are married," he told me.

I nodded and said nothing. I was not ignorant to what day it was. I had done all I could, I had done what the Morgensterns had asked. Alphonse now wished to live. I had done that, or at least I'd helped. There was nothing further I - we could do. All there was to do was wait. And know that tomorrow Alphonse might not even be alive. I watched him silently and saw something flicker through his eyes. He knew he was lying to himself and to me. The chances of our marriage were slim to none.

Closing my eyes, I tried to refuse to think about that. What I wanted was happiness, no curses. "Someday, when this is all over..." I started saying but didn't even have anything to say to finish. I turned over in his bed so that I was lying away from him, my eyes still closed. I felt him shift on his bed and felt his body come together with mine. My back was right against his chest and I felt his breathing. It was even. In, out, in, out, in, out. "Are you happy that this happened this way?" I suddenly asked.

I felt a shift in his breathing. He was quiet for a few moments. "This way?" he finally asked.

Swallowing, I turned around to face him. "If you'd never met me you could have come and gone peacefully, never known anything more than this room...you could have been innocent forever...you could have died without knowing there was something more out there. Do you wish that you could have lived like that, or are you happy things happened the way they did?" I questioned.

With a smile, Alphonse exhaled a breathy chuckle. "Oh so what you're really asking is am I happy I met you, right?" I could feel a blush on my face and I looked down. Alphonse's finger was at my chin and he pushed my face up so he could meet my eyes with his own. "If I could, I would make this choice a thousand times over. Before I might have died ignorant, but now I can die happy. Knowing love, knowing you..." We lived under no false pretenses anymore. Alphonse would not live. The curse would take him as it had taken others before him.

My throat went hard and it felt like I had swallowed a rock. I knew tears were going to come and I wanted to stop them so badly, but I couldn't. Instantly, a picture of my father came to my eyes. "Ladies do not shed tears. Crying is for children. Are you a child?" Yes, father. A child. I was a child. I still was a child, I was only sixteen years old, how could I be anything but a child? I wanted to return to my childhood days when my mother was just my mother and there were no such things as curses, alchemy, black magic and Blood Moons. When there was no such thing as painful love. "I'm sorry," I found myself saying.

Alphonse looked confused. "Whatever for?" he inquired.

I shook my head and buried myself within his chest. "I am not sure."

Lifting my face to meet his, I saw a brilliant smile shine on Alphonse's face. "Be happy. Whatever comes tonight, tomorrow...it doesn't matter. We must live in the present." I could only nod and let my head fall again. We lay like that, still and silent until I felt myself drift in and out of consciousness. There were dreams, dreams that I forgot as soon as I came back to the land of the waking, dreams about dark haired boys and kisses and touches...I could not remember them but remembered their feeling. Happiness, lightness...I wanted to keep those feelings with me for always. I would not forget these feelings. I refused to.

When I finally opened my eyes and forced myself to stay awake, I saw that Alphonse was awake and looking at me. "I kept falling asleep," I said sheepishly.

With a nod and a laugh, Alphonse said, "yes I know. I've been watching." He kissed my cheek and then my lips. "I'm not entirely sure what we're worrying about though. I'm not letting the curse take me. I don't even feel half as sick as I used to. In fact, I feel better than usual. So I'm not sure how I'd die. Because I certainly am not going to waste away to death."

"What a pleasant conversation topic," I said with a cheeky smile.

Alphonse was about to say something when all of a sudden the door to his room was pushed open. Sitting up quickly, we both watched as Charles Wainwright entered the room looking angrier than the devil. My heart felt as if it was going to stop beating. He was silent, just looking at us, for a very long time. "I gave you shelter...a home...a family...and this is how you repay me?" he finally asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

I opened my mouth but Alphonse was already out of the bed. "Father please, it was my fault. I asked her to sta-"

Charles silenced him with one look and then turned that face onto me. "My son," he started walking towards me, "is all that I have left in this world. How dare you come to disrupt his life? How dare you come and bring emotions, feelings...I brought him up the way I did so that he would not leave this world wishing he could have stayed." Charles was at the bed now, and he grabbed my wrist and dragged me from the bed. "He knows the consequences of his life and yet you wished to shove it in his face that he would never live like you, did you?" asked Charles.

"No, that wasn't it at all...Wren Morgenstern..." I didn't know what to say. Charles was stalking out of Alphonse's room. I felt Alphonse grab my other hand.

Charles stopped walking and turned on his son. "I am doing this for your own good, Alphonse." He then wripped his son's hand from mine and pulled me from the room, slamming the door behind him. Swiftly then he turned and shoved the key in the lock and turned it. Alphonse was locked in. As Charles pulled me away, I could hear Alphonse's fists on the door. "He will die tonight and you have the audacity to hurt him even further? Do you even know the boy? He locks up every emotion he has. He may be smiling but inside he is dying. You do not understand this curse, do you?"

The tears that wanted to come before returned quickly, a few splashing over, down my cheeks. "No but I understand that there is a way to break the curse, and if you just let me...please, Charles..."

Suddenly Charles stopped walking and turned on me. His face was pale and grief-stricken. I was instantly quiet. "I love you...I love you. How could you betray me like this? You are mine, you are mine," he said. Leaning down, he crushed his lips against mine but I tore myself away.

"No!" I cried, struggling away from him. "I am no ones. I belong to myself and no one else. I am not yours," I told him.

"My son...my son..." whispered Charles. We were at the stairs leading up to the entrance of the North Wing. "He is going to die tonight. I will have nothing left."

I swallowed. "What about Lily?" I asked.

Charles seemed to be struggling against tears. "She does not love me." His words were thick. "She hates me for what I have done to Alphonse, but she does not understand that it is what's right for him. She does not understand the nature of the Wainwright Curse the way I do. Every breath he is taking is torture. His body is failing him, even when he smiles at you, he is wishing to lie down and give up." We started walking again and even though he still held on to my wrist, his grip was looser. I kept turning and trying to tug out of his hold, but every time I did he would squeeze me tightly. He was stronger than I gave him credit for. There was no one in the foyer and no one bothered us as he dragged me to my room.

I finally took a deep breath, quelling the silent tears that would not stop falling. "Wren Morgenstern told me that if I wished Alphonse to live, he would not die, he would be able to break the curse. She told me that on the night of the Blood Moon, tonight, Alphonse might be able to live. If only he wishes to live."

We were at my room and Charles opened my door, dragging me inside. He shut it behind him and stood against it, so I had no chance of escape. "Wren Morgenstern," Charles spat, "is a selfish liar. She will do anything to manipulate the wishes of someone else to match her own wishes. She does not care for you or for Alphonse. She only wants him to live for herself. And her intentions are anything but good." He was quiet. "Do you even know who - what - she is?" he asked. I shook my head no. "She is a witch, Faerie. She signed her name in the Devil's book. She only wishes Alphonse to live so that she can practice her own dark arts on him."

"That cannot be the truth," I said simply.

Charles leaned in to me. "Her brother has a secret he would not even tell her. Why do you think he would not tell her his deepest, innermost secret?" Charles asked.

"How do you know of that?" My voice was panicky.

Frowning, Charles crossed his arms. "The entire Morgenstern family is terrified of Wren. Any misstep against her and they know she will hurt them. She will let her spectre haunt them in the night." Charles looked as if he was speaking the concrete truth and it made me feel doubtful. All those times Wren had terrified me...I remembered the first time we talked, when she'd turned around and had looked as if she was something else entirely...oh god, what if Charles was right? "How do you think Alphonse will die tonight? Wren is bound by the oath of her ancestor, the witch that cursed us, to bring Alphonse - my darling boy, my only light - into the frozen land on the dead. She wishes to keep him alive to practice her arts on him, but she will follow the oath as long as she is bound."

"Then do something!" I shouted. "How can you passably stand back and watch your son die a terrible death?"

Charles covered his hands with his eyes. "When I tried to stop her...when I tried to kill her...she almost killed me." He looked up then. "Besides, I would rather have Alphonse pass into Niflheim than have him become some dark experiment."

I hated that I agreed. "There must be something..." I started.

"There is nothing, Faerie." He went to the door and turned around. "I'm sorry, but I have to lock the door. I cannot let you try to save Alphonse. I have tried and failed countless times. I will not let you fall victim to Wren's wicked ways." With that, he left my room and just as I started to follow him and tried to push against the door being locked, I felt a click. Then footsteps as Charles walked away. The tears that I'd stopped before we got to my room came back. I wanted to bang on the door but knew it would be useless. Instead I just sat against it.

Wren had been my enemy all along and I'd stupidly played right into her hand. I'd done all that she'd wanted and now she was to reap the benefits. I knew what Charles did not but almost wished he was right. Somehow I could feel it in my bones that Alphonse would live, but not in the way I'd want. He'd be taken by Wren, he'd become her praticing dummy. My throat felt dry and scratchy and I felt like I'd walked right into a trap that I should have seen coming.

As my breathing returned to even, I noticed the crate by my bed. Taking a deep breath, I crawled over to it, took the letter out of the crate and returned to where I was sitting against the door. It felt exceptionally heavy in my hands. Turning it over, I looked at the wax seal again and finally broke it. Swallowing, I opened the letter. My father's handwriting was so shaky it was almost unreadable. But I had to read it. I was not ready to learn this so-called truth, but I could not run from it. Not anymore. I'd ruined any chance of happiness for Alphonse, I'd led him to the wolves so they could eat them. I could no longer be a coward to whatever truth my father had for me. Whatever it was, I would face it head on.

I closed my eyes for one long moment, opened them again and looked down at the paper.

My darling daughter,

It has been a long time since I have felt so ashamed of myself. For doing what I have done, for lying where I should not have...I am sorry I abandoned you when I did. You are a young lady only, you cannot be burdened with all the responsibility that I thrust upon you. For this I apologize. I simply gave you away to another family when I knew there was darkness surrounding them. What darkness, I do not know, but Charles told me that his family is quite unconventional. But he offered to let you stay with him. I could not refuse. I want to tell you why...it is difficult to make my pen move, it is difficult to tell you this, but I do not want my secrets to die with me.

Your mother's family was not blessed with good health. When her mother had a daughter, the young girl was extremley sickly. In Ireland there are stories of the faerie-folk...the sidhe are said to steal sickly babies and replace them with faerie babies, with what they call changelings. Your mother was a changeling. A faerie. When she was young she never thought there was anything different with her and of course, her parents had never noticed the switch. However, as she grew older, she noticed that she could do things. It was subtle, but true. Whenever she felt a particularly intense emotion, it would rain. She could change the feelings of others, even when their feelings were strong. And sometimes, she said, she could move things without touching them.

When your mother was old enough, she sought out the faeries who had given birth to her. You see, Faerie, in the world of the sidhe, there are two courts. The Seelie and the Unseelie. The Holy and the Unholy. Your mother's birthparents were part of the Seelie court and she was taught the ways of the Seelie sidhe when she was able to.

Fiona brought these talents, these gifts into our marriage. At first I did not believe her when she told me what, exactly, she was, but she proved herself many times over. The idea of her faerie powers never sat well with me. She was different. She was beautiful and young, yes, that was why I'd married her, but when I discovered her personality, I wasn't sure I liked what I'd found. When she had you, she said she wanted to name you Faerie, to always remind herself of what she was. I loved your mother so I said yes, but the name never sat well with me.

She was going to tell you the day she died. I did not want you to know. Truthfully I have no idea if you have any of the same faerie gifts as your mother and by God, I hope you don't. I wanted you to live a normal life, a simple life. The day she was going to tell you, we got into an argument. You were visiting a friend of yours, I'm sure you remember that.

Oh, if I could take back the last few moments of her life! We were at the top of the stairs. Fiona was going to go and get the looking glass that her faerie parents gave her. She was going to give it to you. She was going to tell you. At the last moment, as she was going to go down, I grabbed her. I did not want her saying anything. I only meant to pull her back up the stairs but something slipped, she slipped. I'd grabbed her the wrong way and suddenly she was no longer standing. Suddenly she was falling down, down, down...down the stairs. Time seemed to slow down as I watched. By the time I reached her, she was not breathing. I called for a doctor, it was no use.

I told you she fell because I could not bear to tell you that it was my fault. And I must live with that guilt for all my days. I should have let her tell you. I should have told you myself. I should have given you that blasted looking glass. I wanted to, but I never found it.

Here, Faerie, is the truth. I could not look after you after it happened. I wanted you out of my house. I rejected Rupert Townshend's proposal because in fact, I wanted you out of London entirely. Your eyes - the eyes of your mother - could only remind me of my guilt. I am so sorry, so terribly sorry. I loved you. I love you. I am a coward and a murderer. But I will not take these secrets to the grave. They are yours now. Do what you will with them but remember this. Your mother loved you more than anything. And I can only hope that when I meet her in heaven, she will forgive me.

Your devoted father.

I reread the letter once, twice, thrice. The words swam together. And finally I folded it. I had been right. I was not ready to learn the truth, but I was also right in thinking I'd never be ready. There had never been a better time than now. I folded the letter back up and returned it to the crate. Then tentatively, I pulled out the looking glass. Had this been the gift my grandmother had given my mother? My faerie grandmother? I recalled what my father had said. He'd wanted to give this to me but had never found it. Then who had put it on my vanity?

It was a simple looking glass, nothing too interesting. And yet there was something mysterious about it, something otherworldly. I looked at myself in it. I looked no different, especially for just learning that I was half sidhe. I turned the looking glass over in my hands. It was fairly plain with only a few interesting designs on it.

Setting it down, I closed my eyes, which I now realized were painful from leftover tears and strain. I took a deep breath and leaned against the door. I felt a breeze against my face. Opening my eyes, I saw that my window was open. It had been this entire time. The grandfather clock in my room chimed twice. Two in the afternoon? I'd slept very late this morning. I only had ten hourse until Alphonse would be taken by Wren Morgenstern. Charles had told me that I could not do anything to save him, but I would not listen.

Standing up, I went to the open window. I would have to find a way to open it more. Then, looking down, I realized I was on the second floor. It was a long way down. I sighed. This was useless. I could not save him. However, a strange sound suddenly reached my ears. It was a violin. Alphonse.

I would escape. I would save him. I had no idea how, but I was not like Charles. I would not stand back and watch my only light die.