Arendelle Residence | Evening
“Oh thank the heavens, you’re both safe!”
She hated being devoid of emotions, and at the same time she hated how overwhelming they would be. It was Gerda’s arms that were looped around her that caught her tired body when the head maid saw her pass through the entrance looking rather disheveled.
And in a monotone manner she returned the embrace; fully in mind that the older woman squeezing her comfortingly was one of the two loyal guardians which insisted to stay after her parents’ accidental death.
Elsa noted that the obvious tension was still there—the four year old passionlessly avoided eye contact with her with a bowed head. Raw envy bloomed viciously in her after seeing the child rush to hug the debonaire man’s leg; but guilt quickly replaced that since she knew she was the one at fault.
It’s always her fault.
Heine flashed the young blonde a small smile and ruffled her hair, earning the tiniest of chuckles from Claire, “Bye-bye, little Kære,” His Norwegian side showed shortly, and he waited to see the meek wave of her pudgy hand.
“I’ll best be on my way,” Heine’s tone turned solemn, as he made his way towards the tall doors leading to the extensive garage. She saw Kai move forward to assist the spent director to call the faithful valet, and his blue orbs flickered to hers and soon to the present staff’s, “Goodnight to you all.”
“Heine.”
His Gucci steps instantly halted there. She couldn’t look at him, but the Executive Director felt the gratitude widely soaring within her words, “Thank you. For everything.”
He closed his eyes, and although she’ll always be welcome, he quietly replied, “Don’t only thank me. If you want,” he gravely continued, “I’ll join you to see how he’s doing back in there,” And with that, Heine left, spinning his car keys as he walked until Elsa heard the indistinct rumble of the director’s Benz and the constant sounds of departure.
Her stomach churned; and her anxiety grew.
“Sweetheart, are you hungry?” Claire shook her head after hearing the maid’s concern. Gerda smiled lightly, “If you are, call me anytime. I’ll tell Leo to cook you something in the kitchens. Before I forget, your bath is being drawn.”
“M-may I please have a minute with her, alone?”
Gerda nearly shuddered, but she subdued it and nodded. She didn’t really want to leave, and she wanted to resist the command of her mistress—whom she had considered as a daughter for so many years—in order to make sure everything would be okay, but she couldn’t. The last thing Elsa heard from her was her faltering footsteps to return to the staff’s quarters.
So she concentrated all her attention on Claire—her sweet, baby Claire who is always clad in an overall and her favorite white shirt, her little love, who has the sweetest smile that could heal any broken hearts out there. Who is always conversing with the pristine stuffed bunny which seemed to be always by her side, the enthusiastic child always swinging her feet as she sings her little heart out whenever she plays, the other chocolate addict in the mansion, the one who would put her best efforts on every wrinkly drawing of her and her mother out discovering the ends of a rainbow.
Claire was crying.
“Claire, darling–I’m sorry, please–” Elsa whispered, desperation and regret straining her voice as she stared into Claire’s eyes; her tantalizing milky blue eyes which nearly matched her own but devastatingly they weren’t hers and that thought and realization alone saddened her.
Her lips quivered and she trembled after realizing the little girl was trying to make sure her actions were invisible to the woman in front of her who’s doing everything she can to prevent from doing anything too bold to a fresh, open wound that could make Claire hate her even more.
Elsa yearned to just sweep her daughter up to her arms and kiss her tears of confusion away even though she was the one who caused them. She wanted to hold her close and just whisper to her ear the soft apologies already bubbling at the back of her throat she should have told her when she could understand... Could she?
So she reaches out with hesitation–her arm making its way to grab Claire slowly and tell her that she’s sorry for not saying it earlier, that she’ll make up for it, that she’ll be a better mother from now on–
But as she watches Claire avoid her touch as if her skin would sting hers completely, she could already feel the tears prickling out from the corner of her eyes and she didn’t even try to suppress them further.
“C–Claire.”
“Are you really my mama?”
Don’t hurt me.
Not this way.
“O-of course I am, baby,” No you aren’t, “I just–I just didn’t give birth to you but that doesn’t matter, right?”
We found each other when we needed each other the most, where we were both left with nothing.
Claire went silent, little fists clenched and bottom lip bitten. Big girls don’t cry. Big girls can’t cry. Especially when they don’t have a mama and a daddy. Nobody will be there for her now and she didn’t like crying.
But somebody made her cry.
Maybe big girls do cry, after all.
I thought it would be less devastating for you. I’m sorry Mama failed you, pumpkin.
“Where’s my real mama?”
“I-i...” she was speechless. Again. Calling herself a coward. Again. She didn’t tell her. Because she was a coward. She couldn’t face her. Because she was a coward. People get hurt because of her and she couldn’t protect them... Because she was a coward.
“I'm right here, Claire,” she swallowed and she shut her eyes tight, and the tears seemed more painful when she allowed them to cascade down and her lungs could barely breathe, “Mama... Mommy’s right here. I’ve always been here.”
“Lying’s bad.”
“I’m n-not lying,” Elsa recoiled softly with a choking sob, “Listen, love, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t want you hurt. I wanted you to be happy, and that’s what mamas want for their babies, right?”
Claire dully recoiled, “I don’t have a daddy. I’m not your baby. I didn’t come from your tummy.”
“You don’t have a daddy, but you have me, and you’ll always be my baby, even though you didn’t come from my tummy,” Elsa tearfully fended, “Sometimes mamas and babies find each other and not the other way around.”
She walked closer, nearer, and her heart burned satisfyingly in relief when she noticed that the child didn’t bother to scoot away. Claire’s cornflower orbs which reminded her of a waveless ocean slightly perked up to show the smallest sign of interest.
“Sometimes the mama finds the baby left all alone in the dark instead. The mama knows the baby will be alone when she grows up, so she decides to become her mama. And as days pass, love between the baby and mama will grow,” Elsa longingly anticipated, “Not too different from coming from my tummy, right?”
Unfortunately, Claire... Was so much smarter.
“Please go away for a while.”
And after Claire decided to walk away to her room, she was gone.
So was Elsa’s happiness.
To be continued
on the next chapter...