Living with Death

Chapter 10

Elen lifted from her book, she saw the sun begin to rise and her fill her room with light. Finding a stopping place, she marked the page and closed the book. She swung her legs over the edge of her bed, with her never sleeping her bed has been rarely used, only useful for when she wants to relax. Her pale feet touching the wood softly and lifted herself, the gangle arms limp by her side and black silk dress brushing on the floor. She padded her way to the mirror, gazing into the reflections and gazing at herself: the black marbles cold, dead. Her lips pale and thin which matched her angular face, most bones visibly outlined along her body. Her stomach caved in, ribs showed from the black dress. Her limbs outlined her bones, veins flat and not visible from the lack of blood she has. Carefully, she slipped off her nightgown and let it fall to the floor. She then reached for her black dress, the corset specially made for her and fabric the tightest possible. She tied it securely on, tugging on the strings to fit her body. Next she strapped on her black boots, and finally her gloves which were coming loose. She stared at the sagging fake leather, her mind going back to her father, and the glove he tried to pick for her. She wanted to cry but couldn't, she had to water in her system yet her skin was perfectly smooth.

She left the room without a sound, and down the stairs as quiet as a mouse. When she reached the bottom floor, she was surprised to see her mother in the kitchen, stirring the pot. Satariel was humming something, a song Elen's never heard, which just made her more worried.

Elen softly approached Satariel, keeping her arms by her side and spoke. "Naneth?" Satariel spun around, releasing a small scream which sent Elen back a few feet.

Satariel realized her intruder and relaxed, laughing. "Darling, you shouldn't sneak up on people like that. How did you manage to walk so quietly?"

Elen stuttered, mother knows I've been able to do that for years... "I have been able to do that for a while now, naneth. Did you get sleep last night?"

"Oh I couldn't sleep at all," Satariel sighed and turned back to her pot. "I just kept thinking about what delicious foods I could make my little sweetpea! Eventually sleep took me and I woke up with full knowing of what to make!" She spun around, a bowl in hand. "A nice, steaming bowl of carrot beef stew!" Elen glanced into the bowl, the meat was barely cooked, the carrots not cut, the water cold. She's getting worse every day, Elen noted, ever since Randur's death; Satariel slowly became sucome to grief, her mind becoming more crazed every day.

"Naneth... you know I can't eat..." Elen broke the news to her mother softly, but it didn't help. Satariels eyes went deadly and she smashed the bowl on the ground, liquid flying everywhere and bowl shattering. Satariel cursed, yelling and screaming in elvish as she smashed her fists on the counter. "Mother!" Elen rushed forward, gloved hands cupping her shoulders and softly shaking. "Naneth! Naneth it's alright, it's alright!" Slowly she managed to quiet her mother, her smoky voice getting past the crazed head. Satariel stopped fighting, fists shaking and eyes blurry.

"Elen... Elen..." She mumbled beneath her breath, tears streaming down her face.

Elen carefully took control of her mother, soothing. "Shh, come, you need to sleep." She guided her mother towards her room; laying her down gently and pulling up the covers.

As Elen went to leave, however, Satariel warned. "Don't leave the house, don't go into the kingdom and let the king take control of your mind!" Elen turned to her mother her unbeating heart still, unable to break, but she nodded all the same and left.

She got her basket and money and left, exiting her cell and into the main prison. She avoided all who approached her, and they would do the same, going so far as to move to another walkway. She made her way to the market, where elves of all sorts were buzzing around and admiring things. She approached the leather maker, the elves circling around her and warning elflings away. Upon turning to the leather maker's stall, he squared up, jaw tight and eyes terrified.