What Is Done

Chapter 13 - I Hate Everything About You

Laverne, as a child, loved boring days. As king, he always waited for something to happen. Nothing ever did. Arün in peaceful times left him uninterested in the dull, tedious tasks of actually ruling. When Valka was busy meeting with the High Council, Moria would scoop him up and use her little elf for her own amusement. Prince Laverne knew exactly what was coming when Moria did this. It didn't take him long before he began to loathe it.

When he would squirm to get free from her, she'd try comforting him by saying, "It's just me, Nugget Elf. Your Mamá." She always got into his mind with that line, giving him the benefit of doubt. She was much stronger than him as he was only eight. She would sometimes let him go, sometimes not. If she didn't, at a certain point, the elf princeling would simply give up attempting to wriggle out of her hug.

His mother would take him into a room that was seldom used. There wasn't much to it. A large, fancy mirror in the far corner. An armchair, a small table and a low stool in the center of the room on a massive rug that made the floor warm. And a rack of frilly dresses in Laverne's size that Moria kept commissioning Laniss for.

She would give her elfling a book to read or a sweet to eat when he sat on the cushioned stool. She would then take her grooming tools to Laverne's hair. Moria always took pride in doing her elfling's hair. Laverne kept it down and out of style when Moria wasn't playing with it. Sometimes he wished to cut it simply so she could no longer do this to him. Queen Moria refused so he let it go. She loved how he'd inherited her white, devoid of hue hair. 

At the same time, it was a curse. As to why it was a curse, neither the king or queen would explain it to him until he was older. 

The elfling grumbled when she pulled on his hair too hard trying to brush it. She spent much more time than needed on it. "Ow! That hurts!" he'd say as he swatted her hand away.

"I'm sorry, Laverne," she'd reply in a soft, lulling voice. 

How does Elf Nugget's hair get so hopelessly tangled? she'd think meanwhile.

When the queen was done with the prince's hair, she'd walk him over to the mirror and show him. That particular day's combination was multiple braids on the top of his head morphing into one thick one on his back, layered over the part that had been left to fall straight.

Moria clasped her hands together in a praying position, hoping for a feel-good answer. "What do you think?" 

"I look like a parade float threw up on me," Laverne muttered to himself. Moria couldn't discern if he was talking about the hairstyle or the dress or the entire ensemble. She chose to take no heed of his words like always.

Moria spent a half hour picking out a dress while Laverne squinted at himself in the mirror. She selected a bright pink one with tiered ruffles on the skirt and sleeves. She showed her elfling and Laverne stuck his tongue out in disgust. "Don't worry, it'll be cute. It'll bring out your eyes."

Laverne changed behind a screen, knowing how to easily dress himself. The dress was smaller than his body. It cut off his circulation through his waist. Laverne and Valka suspected Moria would have preferred a girl to dress up like a doll. King Valka hated that his wife did that to their elfling but no matter how many times he told her to stop, she'd continue doing it.

"It's...too small." Laverne stepped out from behind the partition. His arms were stiff in their outward position.

"Nonsense," She came over to him and began tying the back like a corset. "Here." Laverne winced in pain, his internal organs being squished into a tight packaging. He wondered how girls could stand this. Moria brought Laverne to the mirror again. "See, look how adorable you are. Ooh, your father should be done with his meeting now, let's go show him!"