A Court of Silent Suffering

~ 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓸 ~

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　

By the time Elara walked the distance to the water pump and back, it had started to harshly snow. She stumbled along the path with numb feet as the wind whipped her frail form back and forth. She paused to lift her head up, squinting to find a source of light through the weather. A tendril of smoke reached for her senses, finally alerting her she was close to home. She pushed forward, allowing the smell of ash to guide her to the front door. She wasted no time hesitating as she shakily reached for the metal handle. She gasped slightly as the iron chilled her already frost-bitten bones, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the doorstep and close her eyes. Whether that meant death or sleep, Elara didn't have a clue. 

"How long does it take you to get water" Nesta said, ripping open the door. Elara reigned in her cry of pain when her fingertips were nearly taken off, as they had still been on the handle when Nesta supposedly saw her through the decaying window to her right. She let the question go unanswered, keeping her eyes downcast as she made her way past Nesta.

"You missed dinner." Was the only thing Feyre bothered to toss Elara's way. The girl nodded, setting the water bucket down gently beside the hearth. She lingered before the warmth of the fire, slowly thawing her body. 

"Stop hogging the fire. We're cold too, but we're putting up with it." Nesta snapped. 

"Ok. I'm sorry. I'll just go to bed." Elara retracted from the heat and made her way into the bedroom they shared. She envied her sisters, as they all slept on the only bed they still owned while she slept on the floor with nothing but a blanket. She would never complain though, lest Nesta decide another use for her blanket besides a barrier between the floor and Elara. She sighed and curled her knees into her chest, back against the wall. A small light shone from the windows into the room before her.

The stars. They seemed to be the only ones who didn't want to yell at, scream at or hit Elara. Even if she sometimes wanted to do all three back. The impossibility of reaching the stars always stayed the same, unlike her sister's moods and demands. She let out a puff of air, watching it cloud in front of her. Before it dissipated, sleep claimed her. 

　.✦　˚

"Well she certainly doesn't get anything. I want new boots. I even got up to chop wood at dawn this morning, unlike someone who's supposed to be doing it anyways!" Elara startled awake. Nesta was definitely angry at someone, and Elara prayed to whichever gods were listening that it wasn't her. It was all Elara had time for, as Nesta had burst into their shared bedroom, very obviously seething. 

"Shes been asleep this whole time! Don't you see shes nothing to us! we don't even need her anymore!" Nesta screamed, each word dripping with anger. Feyre followed her, a glare already leveled at Elara. 

"It's my money, and I will spend it how I see best. I wasn't planning on buying her anything anyway." Her voice was cold and unconcerned, as if Nesta were simply throwing a tantrum similar to a toddler's. Feyre turned on her heel, stalking all the way through the front door. Nesta gave Elara one last wrath - filled look over her shoulder before sweeping her cloak over her shoulders to follow Feyre, Elain in tow. Elara blew out a sigh, her skull making a dull thud resonate through the room when she let it fall back against the wall. She sat like this for a few moments, holding back that gut wrenching feeling at the thought that she might be thrown out by her own sisters. A single tear rolled down her cheek. She then roughly pushed herself to her feet, resolving to prove herself useful enough to keep. 

.✦　˚

Elara let the last of the chopped wood tumble into a pile, on top of all the rest she had done that day. She had heaved the heavy ax over her head many more times than she could count, repeating Nesta's words in her head as 'motivation'. Her father didn't speak a word, though she could feel his weary eyes on her back from his cot beside the fire. She shut the door just in time, as she heard her sisters breeze inside not a moment later. She leaned back against the heavy wooden frame, breathing in the deep smell of winter. She opened her eyes, shivering at the cold wind that swept through the small bedroom through the opened window. 

Odd. No one opened any windows during winter, as the chill would probably take one of the sisters during the night. She rushed over, slamming it shut with a rattle.