The Mansion On Drachmian Border

Past Event: After All, It Could Have Been Much Worse

The sight of his own bedroom put Maes at ease. The familiar pattern of sheets surrounded him, making him warm and unwanting to get up. His favorite blanket laid against his back working as a cushion.

It was safe. His bedroom meant that he was safe.

Dante wanted separate bedrooms an account of her needing to sleep on her own and refusing to let him inside until she was there as well. He gladly welcomed his own bedroom as he was able to sleep without worrying about hands traveling on his skin.

He looked towards a crib standing against a wall close to his bed pleased to find his youngest still sleeping soundly. He could lay around a bit longer reding himself for a day. He hoped Dante didn't lock the doors that time. He knew she still didn't trust him after his last escape attempt.

Elicia crying in pain, a smell of burnt flesh filling the room.

No, he wouldn't try anything again. He wouldn't add another line on Elicia's forearm.

It wasn't that bad, really, and he was certain it could have been far worse. Dante didn't hit him as much as during the first month of their relationship. She also didn't threaten Elicia as much as she used to. He just needed to behave, wear the clothes she gave him and provide her with entertainment. It was fine.

As a child he was scared of his father's footsteps, nowdays they belonged to Dante.

Some days were good, those were the days when she allowed more room for a slip-up, the days she treated him almost like an equal, they could sit together and have a pleasant conversation. They were, however, easily ruined if he'd done something especially wrong or if she wanted him in her bedroom.

No matter how long he was there, Dante's bedroom was a place of pain and shame. He got better at taking his mind elsewhere. Nowadays he just thought about whatever needed to be done the next day, what he would make for dinner, things like that.

He was dying inside, slowly and steadily. His whole body ached with every movement and he felt constant nausea. He was tired all the time and was unable to read anything longer than a page.

Most things that defined him as a person were ripped away from him. He used to solve serial murder cases, now he was so utterly stupid he couldn't even talk right. It's not like it mattered, he had to stay quiet for most of the day anyway and his children never noticed the downgrade outside of Elicia and Wrath. His thoughts were fine but putting them into words was harder than it used to, he kept talking in a hushed tone afraid Dante would hear, not using any of the big words now afraid he was using them wrong, he was stupid after all.

The clothes Dante picked for him were much more elegant than ones he would pick on his own. His hair had to stay in the ponytail she chose for him. He didn't even have a say in buying his own underwear. Dante knew better, he wasn't smart enough to dress well.

He wanted to take photos of his kids, make an album and decorate the walls but Dante refused to waste money on a camera and film. She bought him cosmetics though, so he really couldn't blame her, she didn't have to buy them but she still did.

Back in Amestris, he wouldn't pay that much attention to his skin or hair. Now he spend long sessions in the bathroom applying pilings, conditioners, and lotions. He was supposed to look good for her and feel nice under her touch. He actually came to like those moments, because they gave him some time for himself.

Outside of them, time was never his, not really. He spend mornings making breakfast and brushing his childrens' hair as they ate it. Dante usually didn't make an appearance in the dining room until Maes made and served lunch. She would kiss him as a greeting and then sit down to eat. Afterwards Maes washed dishes. Depending on which day it was he would either do laundry or dusting. Then he finally would get to sit down for a while and watch his children as they played. Often he also had to repair tears in clothing. Other times he knitted, something he learned as a child from his neighbor and now was really grateful for it. It kept his hands from shaking and allowed his children to have more warm clothing. When the time came he made dinner.