WitchBite

The Talk

Limbani, and Aramis.

She was poised, and composed. An ever, exemplary, beacon of gracefulness. Her back was straight and her chin up. She somehow looked more angular than the first time we'd met. The softness, and roundness from her features was gone. Replaced with the cold countenance of a leader with business on the brain. She didn't look at me when I entered, merely kept her focus on simultaneously nothing, and my father at the same time.

Aramis was very much the same, although somehow less so. Like he was trying to imitate his mother in every way. But his eyes betrayed him, they looked sad. Worried, and disappointed. They glittered for a brief second as I entered, but he briefly shuffled himself to regain his composure.

"Y-Yes, father?" I croaked as if I didn't know. I hated being so formal, but knew better when the company was so tense.

He held out an open hand, gesturing for me to sit down on the chair opposite him. Which I did without a word, and absent mindedly began fiddling with my hands as a distraction.

"Him? He is the one?" Limbani said accusingly, "The one I invited into my own home?" Aramis nodded. My father tensed, ever so slightly, especially when her questioning gaze fell upon my father again.

He cleared his throat before speaking

"We will hear his version, as is the air of fairness." He said, his voice was commanding and deep as he shifted the position in his chair. My eyes darted to the small crowd again. Finding Victoria at the front of them all, she looked at me reassuringly, and I was somewhat relieved. "Avery, we want to hear exactly what happened last night. Every last detail, please."

I took a deep breath, my eyes began searching once again. Scanning the faces of the room, with a feeble wish to be bolstered with some form of strength. They fell on Aramis, just as eager as his mother to hear what I had to say. But while hers remained cold; his was earnest. Hopeful.  

***

 I recounted the events as best I could. Uncomfortably wriggling in the calculating silence that followed.

"My daughter was mortally wounded, yet you bare no marks of this attack. I do not doubt the healing capabilities of your people, but I find it... Convenient." Limbani spoke, looking to me then to my father expectantly.

"Wait, she's--?" I began to ask, a wave of both shock and relief fell over my shoulders, causing me to relax somewhat into the chair beneath me.

"Alive. Yes." She interjected, a comment that sounded both defiant and accusatory. It was only natural she thought me the attacker, and I could tell she was conflicted with her duties as a leader of the supernatural and a mother.

I looked to my father who had remained silent.

"Why is that, Avery?" He asked, I responded with a questioning look. "If the events went down as you say, you would still have marks, yes? With all due respect, you are not that accomplished of a healer..." I could tell he hadn't meant it as bluntly as he put it. But he too was like Limbani. Conflicted with his duties as a leader and a father. It somewhat lessened the blow of him questioning his faith in me.

I reached up and pulled the glamour off my face to the sound of hushed gasps. I could hear the slight trebled complaint of my Aunt Janet, and I could feel the absolute wrath of Victoria as my eyes met hers for a brief moment. Fists and jaw clenched, she knew better to over step her boundaries in such delicate matters, but damn if she wasn't close to ignoring that all together.

"I was going to wait until the full moon to.. You know... Or--- I don't know" I whimpered ever so slightly. Internally cursing myself for beginning to break up in front of company or my father. I looked down to hide my face, using the sleeve of my shirt to dab at the corners of my eyes.