| auntiewrites ( @ 2007-12-05 16:28:00 |
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Chapter 1C
Title: “An Extraordinary Girl” Chapter 1C
Author:
auntiewrites
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: none
Summary: Temper tantrums cause tempests, and loyalties shift
Warning: mind-games, scary situations
Words: 1, 888
Disclaimer: This is an original work of fiction. Please do not take or use without permission.
A/N: This is the first work I’ve done since the bronchitis slammed me into the wall. It’s too late for NaNo, but, I’ve decided to carry on with it. So… let’s see how it goes, shall we?
Ryan fell back against the wall, tears pouring down her face. He’d been so real! So real!! She saw him so clearly, her dear, dear Uncle Jules reaching toward her, his hands out so nearly touching hers, and she was so close, so close! He’d come for her, she just knew it, he was going to get her out, and then, like a puff of smoke, he was gone! But she’d felt his mind touch hers, a brief whisper of Be strong, my Button, and so she knew he’d really, really been there. Really, his mind touch was unmistakable. She’d know her Uncle Julian’s touch anywhere!
The door of her little room banged open, and Ryan jumped, heart pounding as she pressed herself back into the wall to see who was there. Nathalia moved slowly to stand in the open doorway with a man who peered in at her with more than a little fear in his eyes. Nathalia leaned on her cane as she watched Ryan, dark eyes glittering with an amusement that made the little girl feel as if ants were crawling under her skin. “There, Henri,” she nearly cackled. “Fetch the brat and bring her.”
“But, Madame…”
Nathalia turned to glare up at him. “Are you deaf, Henri? I said bring her! She is only a child, surely you can handle her?”
Henri looked conflicted. “B-but, Madame, your burns…”
She huffed with impatience. “Do not be a fool, Henri! She will not shock you, because you are no threat to her! You may touch her! I may not!”
Ryan scowled. Henri didn’t look all that threatening, considering how he much he was sweating, and the anxious little looks he kept shooting at her. However, the fact that the old woman was evidently going to use him as a substitute was enough to make him a threat in the little girl’s eyes.
“But won’t she shock me, too?”
Nathalia raised her hand and pointed one long finger at his chest, smiling up at him. He stared at her and began to tremble and sweat. “Do you think that sweet little girl could possibly hurt you worse than I could, Henri?”
“N-No, Madame!” He shuddered, and suddenly went to his knees, holding his hands up to her even as he bowed his head. “Please, Madame… I meant no disrespect!”
“Pffft!” She turned her back on him angrily, and fastened her gaze on her prey. “You, girl! Up off that bed and come here!”
Ryan pressed herself into the wall even harder. “I won’t!” she said stubbornly, her chin jutting out.
The dark eyes narrowed, making the lines and creases in Nathalia’s face even deeper, and Ryan trembled. The powerful aura that surrounded the woman intensified, and Ryan shuddered as waves of it seemed to brush against her skin, crackling almost painfully against the energy surrounding her own body. It hurt, racing along her nerves, making her jerk and shake. She threw her arms over her head, curling into a defensive little ball on the bed. “No!” she cried, squinching her eyes shut tight. “Stop it! Stop it!”
A low chuckle, and then the assault stopped, leaving her panting against the wall. She opened her eyes to find Nathalia standing by the bed. “Obey me, and I won’t do it again.”
Ryan Delgardie was four years old. She was mature for her age, and very, very bright, the product of two intelligent parents who never talked down to their children, and actively encouraged their development. In spite of this, the fact remained that she was still only four years old, still a little kid who had been kidnapped by a stranger, taken to an unfamiliar place with a scary woman who threatened and hurt her and who hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in the last six hours. And she had just been pushed past her little limits. It should have been no surprise to anyone that little Ryan Delgardie had a typical four-year-old’s reaction to stress. She had a temper tantrum.
“No!!!” she screamed, launching herself at the woman, fists flying, feet kicking. “No, I won’t, I won’t, I won’t!!! You can’t make me! You can’t!! I won’t do it!!!”
Nathalia fell back, no match for an enraged child, too caught by surprise to do anything more than cry out. Sturdy arms wrapped around the furious little girl, lifting her bodily off the old woman. “Here, here, you can’t treat Madame like that!” said Henri as he turned away from Nathalia, holding Ryan tightly so she couldn’t reach her tormenter with her feet, as she continued to kick and struggle in his arms. “She’s your elder and should be treated with respect!”
Astonishment at such a ridiculous statement made Ryan freeze for a moment, then her frenzied struggles started anew as she kicked, clawed, and flailed, fighting his grip for all she was worth. “I don’t care! I don’t care! I wanna go home! I want my mama!! Let me go! Let me go!!”
Nathalia had pulled herself to her feet, her hair mussed as she glared at the wildly struggling little girl. “You will behave, and you will behave now!” she snarled, shaking her cane at her. “Or I will give you plenty to cry about!”
Ryan screamed, in a flaming temper now, and kicked harder. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no!!!” She clawed at Henri’s arm and he struggled to shift her into a more secure hold. “You put me down! You put me down now!! I don’t know you! You leave me alone, you… you… you… MEANIES!!”
Nathalia pointed a finger at the girl and chanted, “Somnus Profundus, Maxima Profundus…”
“No!! I won’t go to sleep!” Ryan roared, and in a move that would have made her retired Mossad instructor very proud, she slammed her head back into the face of the man who had just pulled her up in his efforts to hang onto her. “No, no, no!!”
Three things happened. Henri, blood bursting from his nose, dropped Ryan to the floor as he grabbed at his face. Nathalia, interrupted in the midst of her spell, staggered back, forced to grab at the door for support, which swung open and dumped her on the floor. And Ryan stood up.
Henri, torn between recapturing the child or helping Nathalia back to her feet, stiffened, his gasp Nathalia’s only warning. She turned… and froze.
A very different Ryan stood there, feet planted firmly on the ground, her small hands clenched into fists in front of her. Fury whirled around her as a tangible force, whipping her hair about her face and shoulders, the electric tang of ozone filling the air. Her eyes glowed wit a pale green light and Nathalia thought, “My gods, is she an elemental?”
“You can’t make me,” Ryan said in an oddly amplified voice. “I won’t do it!” She took a step toward Nathalia, raising one hand. “I won’t let you!”
“I do not see how you can stop me, chere,” said Nathalia, licking her lips. She was not frightened of Ryan, or the powers the child was displaying. Rather, she was exhilarated by what it promised for the future, and she itched with longing to take it now, to not wait for maturity to refine it and strengthen it. But wait she would, for the greater reward. “No matter how strong you are, bebe, I will always be stronger.”
“No!” shouted Ryan and stomped her foot. “No, you won’t!”
Nathalia smirked. “Yes, my little warrior, I will be. No matter how strong you grow, how old you are, I will always be older, with far more experience than you. I will always be more powerful.”
The wind around Ryan grew stronger, and Nathalia fought back a gasp as it whipped her own hair up and swirled the skirt of her dress around her legs. The child’s body was trembling as she glared at Nathalia, sweat running down her cheeks so that her hair clung to her face and neck. “No! You… you won’t… you… you won’t…” The trembling increased, the winds increased wildly, then died, and Nathalia watched with a triumphant smile as the child sighed and slowly folded to the ground.
Henri approached cautiously, and bent to turn the girl over. “What happened?”
“She wore herself out,” Nathalia said. She grasped her cane and allowed Henri to help her to her feet. “Like any other child, when she throws a temper tantrum, it takes a great deal out of her. Of course, this tantrum, it took a great deal more out of her. It is all to the good. Pick her up.”
Henri knelt next to the child, staring down into her little face before touching her almost reverently. “Such a strong little girl,” he said softly. “Such a strong little Heir.”
“Pah!” spat Nathalia.
“You do not think so, Madame?” said Henri as he picked the limp little body up. “She is Viviane’s daughter, she is of the direct line…”
“She will not be heir,” said Nathalia angrily. “Do not concern yourself with these things, Henri! It is beyond your understanding!”
“She’s worthy to be the Heir,” insisted Henri stubbornly as he stood. “She’s strong enough, you said it yourself. The strongest witch born in this family in over a century!” He shivered when Nathalia’s dark eyes fastened on him, but the light weight against his chest made him braver than usual. Henri Depardieu wasn’t the most intelligent of men, but he was intensely loyal. To the Lady of Delgardie. He served Nathalia because Viviane, like so many of her line, had abdicated her role as Lady of Delgardie to Nathalia. Nathalia was not of the direct line, but she was powerful, and she had ruled the family with an iron hand for generations, and so Henri, like so many others, served her because there was no other choice. But he longed for more. And right now, curled against his chest, he held that more. Henri, slow, dependable, without much imagination, could see in the small pale face the possibilities, could feel in the energy that vibrated the tiny body, even unconscious, the winds of change coming. This, more than any other, was the true Lady of Delgardie, and in that moment, Henri’s loyalty, always longing to serve one worthy of it, had changed.
He was no fool, though. He kept his heart closed, as he always had, sticking his stubborn jaw out, but not contesting this woman who truly held life and death… his life and death… in her hands.
Nathalia smiled, and it made his stomach drop. “Of course, Henri,” she said silkily. “You are right. She is worthy to be my heir. But, like any heir, she must first be thoroughly tested. After all, we would not want a weak link inheriting the family, would we?”
“No, Madame,” he said, making sure his eyes were down and his shoulders bowed the way she liked.
“Bring her, Henri. Bring her, that we may test her.”
Henri walked slowly behind the old woman as she made her way out of the room, her cane tapping a cadence on the stone floor. He could do nothing now. He would watch. He would wait. And he would save this Little Lady, if it took his last breath.