Oh, To Be The Lady's - [A Lady Dimitrescu/Female Reader-Insert Story]

Chapter Four: To Be Depressed

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to the lovely Rse on Archive of Our Own, who's comments never fail to cheer me up and make me smile! 🥰 They requested a ficlet about Alcina helping her Maiden with a Depression episode and since I also struggle with depression (and anxiety, but we'll get to that in a later chapter lmfao), I thought it would be an interesting concept to take a crack at!

I hope you enjoy hon, thank you again for the prompt, it was so much fun to write! 💙💜 I hope everyone else also enjoys and PLEASE don't hesitate to let me know what you think, it truly does make my entire day/night a million times better! 😊

**Trigger Warning for Major Descriptions of a Depression Episode**

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It was one of those days.

You sit up in bed, tired eyes scanning the dimly lit walls of your and your wife's bedroom. The sun has been over the horizon for a while now, you can tell, and you're grateful that Alcina closed the curtains before attending her morning meeting.

Heaving a sigh, you debate whether or not to venture from the warmth of your bed, quickly deciding against it when the chilled castle air snakes around your bare legs.

You aren't hungry anyways, you realize, your stomach slightly sore and you sigh again, shimming back under the covers, hoping that laying down would relieve your nausea. It doesn't, however, but you can't really be bothered by it anyways, your mind swirling down and around like an un-plugged drain.

You don't know how long you lay there, in the darkness, but it must have been a good few hours because a sudden knock against your door has you jerking up.

"Mama?" Bela, her voice barely above a whisper, sounds faintly through the wood. "Are you awake?"

You clear your throat before speaking, sitting up slightly. Part of you wants to tell her to leave, that you don't want to be bothered but you can't do that to her. "Yeah, come in, hon."

Without hesitation, Bela steps into the room, closing the door behind her. She struts up to your bed with a nervousness you aren't used to seeing from your girls and you frown, meeting her eyes through the dim afternoon light.

"You weren't at breakfast." She says, eyeing your tousled hair and obviously bloodshot eyes with poorly hidden worry. "Mother's still at her meeting, so I knew you two couldn't have been, uh, caught up in anything, and I wanted to make sure you were well."

A flutter of love blooms in your chest, rising through the numbness and you bring a shaking hand out to grab at Bela's own. "I'm fine, Bela, thank you. Just-Just kind of tired, I guess."

You don't know how to explain your feelings, how your chest feels hollow and all you want to do is sleep. You've dealt with depression all of your life, and you know the signs of an episode like the back of your hands. You just hope that this particular one will pass quickly.

Bela, despite your words, doesn't look convinced. She studies you for a few more seconds, nostrils flaring as though she could sniff out your lie on just scent alone and you resist the urge to squirm under her sharp gaze.

Finally, she pulls back with a final, surprisingly gentle squeeze to your hand. "I'll let you rest, Mama. Come down for dinner, if you can, Cassandra and Daniela are worried too, but we didn't want to, uh, be too much."

You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Of course, hon. Thanks again for checking on me."

Despite yourself, you don't even wait until your eldest daughter leaves the room before you burrow back under the covers, sighing as the cool darkness covers you again. Your eyes sting, but the tears don't fall, they never do when you're like this and you sniffle silently.