Serenity

The Pills

Earlier that day.

On this Sunday morning, it felt like everything had truly changed without warning. Hovering over the breakfast table's precipice, Trudy cleared away clattering pots.

Rose pulled at the lace which adorned the sleeves of her dress before resting her hand against the pacing of her heart. Trudy had pinned her hair lightly, leaving most strands free to frame her face. It wasn't particularly well-liked for a lady to wear her hair down at all, but Rose disliked the feeling of weight on her head.

The waves below them, over the rail, lapped against the ship in a whooshing sound; it should have lightened her mood, but instead, she felt as though a cloud of grey followed her about consistently. Rose felt alienated, withdrawn and out of sorts; her mind firmly with Jack. On a beautiful morning like this one, she longed to be out on the deck and walk the length and breadth of the ship just talking nonsense, and yet, she sat opposite the man she was to marry in a matter of weeks and felt utterly dreadful.

''The colour has drained from your cheeks,'' Cal muttered between sips of coffee. ''Perhaps those pills are losing their charm. We shall see about seeing to that.''

Rose slid her hand down to the cup silently. Trudy came back to clear the breakfast trays away, and it was not unnoticed that she had barely touched anything that had been served initially.

''Perhaps they never worked at all.''

''Rose, the good doctor would not have prescribed them if that was not the case,'' Cal told her most condescendingly. ''Besides, you improved considerably over the last few days.''

Exhaling slowly, Rose agreed. ''Yes, perhaps that is true."

''Trudy, Rose should be required to take her medication,'' Cal glanced back down at the morning paper for just a moment before he caught onto the maid's hesitation at handling the tablets. ''Trudy?''

''Yes, sir.'' Trudy slowed, put the collected dirty plates back onto the table linen and fumbled about in the front pouch of her apron. After a moment, she pulled out a pill bottle containing not more than three pills, rattling inside as she went, as though screaming for their freedom. The glances exchanged between Trudy and Rose spoke volumes, although it seemed slightly unnoticed by Cal, for he did not know that for weeks, Trudy simply disposed of the pill. She opened the bottle, tapping the neck into her palm, and one tiny red circle landed. Passing the pill to Rose, she simply curtsied before collecting the plates and went inside, leaving Rose facing Cal in complete silence.

''Well, what are you waiting for?''

The pill seemed to burn through her palms, drain the entirety of whatever life was left within her. She had tried too hard to remove the effects of the damned medication, and now, it was as though she was about to take a test. One that she would fail. She could lie, or she could take the pill.

''Perhaps it shall tame your behaviours at present.''

''Pardon me?''

"I had hoped that you could come to me last night." His voice was quiet and would almost be comforting if she had fallen for his charms at all. ''I had hoped that my embrace should have been warm for the evening after the coldness I have endured from you since we came aboard.''

"I was tired," Rose told him, stirring her coffee, still holding the pill.

''Yes, your exertions dancing with Mr. Dawson would have that effect on you.'' Cal lowered his gaze to her, and she knew then that this conversation wouldn't be about the fact that she hadn't joined him in the bedroom but because of her involvement with an artist of the lower classes. ''Are you intentionally trying to provoke me?''