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The star's were spattered across the sky, twinkling and winking downwards from the expanse of the night, as if they were saying hello- wishing for appreciation and attention. From where she sat in her treehouse, Lucretia felt as if they were doing so just for her, wishing her the best in another year passing, congratulating her. Her eyes sparkled from behind the thick lenses of her glasses, a smile on her small lips. She was 11 years old today, and so far it hadn't been fantastic- person wise. But then again, she could always count on the stars.
"Lucy! Don't you want to try your mom's birthday cake?"
Oh, and her parents.
She leans over the railing, her dress; worn per request of her mother, swayed against her legs as she leaned outward, "Yeah! Coming Dad!" She calls, turning on her heel and scrambling down the ladder of boards nailed against the tree. It wasn't the most comfortable form of travel, and she constantly found splinters in her palms, but nonetheless- it was effective. She readjusted the baseball cap her father had given her, some fantasy sports team that she wasn't aware of by any means. But it was blue her favorite color was blue, and it blocked out the sun.
The air in the house smelled heavily of strawberries, and a pleasant giddiness arose within Lucretia- it was her favorite after all. Her mom stood beside the freshly plated cake and flicked her tongue across a stray bit of frosting that stuck to her thumb- smiling warmly as Lucretia came in, white teeth that were slightly crooked peeking out from behind her plush lips.
Lucretia deeply hoped, as she had written in her journals, that she grew one day to be as beautiful like her mother, a strong woman with dark brown skin with freckles much like the stars in the night sky above. Her eyes were green but not bright, rather more of a springtime grass, soft and kind. Long curly hair, it was very light- an uncommon trait, Lucretia had it as well, long hair that cascaded across her shoulders- curly and soft.
Lucretia thought her mother was the most beautiful woman in the world.
"Well hello there Lucy goosey! How's my little birthday girl doing?" She hums, leaning down and grabbing Lucretia- pulling her up, she giggles as her mom's hair tickles at her bare arms. Her mom was also, incredibly strong, she could lift anything- Lucretia secretly wondered if her mom had super strength, but she didn't have quite enough evidence to confirm it yet. She yipes as her mom spins her around, the baseball cap flying off of her head and knocking to the floor, she giggles along with her mother- lost in the haze of happiness.
"What are my two favorite girls up to?" Her dad's voice emits from the doorway, friendly as always- he always had an intoxicating happiness, the slowly spin to a stop- dizzy from the twirl. Her dad plucks the baseball cap from the ground, placing it atop Lucretia's head. "The cake smells fantastic."
"Mhmm." Lucretia says as her mother puts her down, "It's strawberry!" Her dad leaned down to her height, brown eyes hiding behind square glasses. Her father was nearly the complete opposite of her mother, they both had dark skin- but he was not very strong, a very stick like body. His dark hair was cropped short, but he was in his own way- adorable, and much like Lucretia, awkward and shy in most situations.
"Sounds delicious!" He says with a grin, "Only the best for you, sweet pea." She smiles and he attempts to pick her up, her toes barely lift off the ground before and wheezes before setting her back down with a frown, "Okay, gotta leave the fun spin parties to mom." Her mom giggles as she places the cake on the table.
"There's a reason I'm the one holding you in all of our wedding photos." She hums as they sit, Lucretia taking her spot at the head of the table.The celebration had been small, a brief singing of happy birthday, a trick candle- courtesy of her dad, and small talk about school and their jobs, mother was a high ranked military officer, and her father a history professor.
She wouldn't have it anyother way.
She had few presents, she never asked for much anyhow. A few journals, some new sketching pencils, and one large box in shiny blue wrapping of which her dad insisted she saved for last, sat before her. Her parents looked anxious, smiling and leaning on eachother as she opened it, a small gasp coming from her- eyes alighting as she took in what she was looking at.
"Oh my gosh, I-I," She turned on her ear, brandishing a large grin and teary eyes, "A star gazer 6000? Yo, I can't, I-"
"Well, I think you're responsible enough to take care of a telescope, it's the latest model." Her dad says proudly, her mom nods as Lucretia runs her fingers across the smooth blue metal of the telescope.
They spent the rest of the night playing with the telescope, Lucretia had been a little too enthusiastic when turning it and accidentally hit her dad square in the stomach. He wheezed and gave her a thumbs up while her mom giggled from behind her hand. It was the perfect night, the best birthday ever.
"Now you can look at even more stars." Her mother adds, it was everything Lucretia had ever wanted. "We know you want to be an astronaut and all, studying the stars,until then- this is pretty close!" Lucretia nods wildly, an astronaut, she couldn't wait to find her home amongst the stars. A new start, a kind one, amongst the stars that winked to her in the night sky.
Lucretia coughs, her mouth tasting vaguely of metal and the air smelled thickly of smoke. She sits upwards, groaning as her hands brace above her ribs- of which were most definitely broken, or with any stroke of luck, bruised. She wheezes, using a stray metal beam to pull herself up. It was the third raid this week, this time bandits. Between the military and bandits, she never caught a break. She was able to knock them off with a few attack spells as well as fighting, both of which she had polished off during their stay at the First Monastery.
The bandits, in hopes of scrapping the ship as well as collect the bounty on Lucretia, had landed some blows on her as well, one of them grabbing at her long blonde hair- yanking at it and.. her fingers grace her throat- addressing the shallow cut that was there, it had been too close for comfort. It was petty, but she had many of her attackers grasp at her hair in the hopes of being able to restrain her, perhaps it was time for something different.
She follows along the walls of the dimly lit Star Blaster, it was not in any good condition, she pats at the metal- her bandages muffling the noise as she taps it. The lights flicker off and on as she makes her way through the barely surviving ship, her entire body pulsed with pain- perhaps she should head towards the medbay next, her fingers gripped tightly at her wand, her body tight and trembling- ready to move quickly, to fight- she may be injured, but she had no choice.
The bathroom had a singular light working, low and dull, the sheen metal walls were slightly warped from the impact- there was blood in the sink, her arm throbbed at the memory of pulling an arrow from it- stitching without pain killer was certainly an experience she never wanted again, she shudders as she realizes that perhaps- it might not be the last time she will have to stitch herself up.
She grabs shears from the drawer, they had belonged to Taako- their golden handle embroidered with stars, they were beautiful, and he would probably magic missled her if he knew she was using them. But fuck it, she was saving him and the least bit of her problems was some (probably stolen) shears. She looks up at the mirror.
Her hair was messy, it's natural curl remained but their were burnt chunks, blood stains, and something more. Her heart lurched, fingers of her uninjured hand gently touching the part of hair that rested on her shoulder. Her breath hitched, it was soft, like her mother's. She looked back at her reflection, her glasses were cracked- probably when she had been shoved to the ground, still useful though.
She stared at her hair, and faintly thought of her mother, how she would ask Lucretia to braid her hair while her dad read to the both of them. She would give anything to go back to that, the soft candlelight and the sweet smell of vanilla that lingered in her mother's nightgown, or the hint of coffee on her father's pajama shirt. Of nights staring at the stars above, looking high above, just past the horizon of reality- to talk of Lucretia's future home amongst the stars. A pilgrim of the universe, to go where no one else has gone, to become- the lone journal keeper. To grow beautiful like her mother, strong and lovely. Brilliant, like her father, who was shy but never pompous, the smartest person she knew and yet willing to silence himself and learn, there was always things to learn-- he'd always told her that. To be the piece of them she wanted to be, all while being herself…
It was all she ever wanted.
If she squeezed her eyes tight enough, she could imagine the hair that she wound in her fingers was her mother's, that the heavy iron smell was nothing but her father's ink pen. She was back home, real home, not amongst the stars that never loved her as she had thought. Not in the place that was all she never wanted, this nightmare- bandits and guards grabbing at her hair and breaking her ribs, using any possible attempt to thwart her- dead or alive, she was so tired of being tossed and turned from within her broken ship. Her fingers drop and she sniffles.
Her mother was dead, her father was dead.
She looked up at the mirror and thought of her mother one last time, before holding the strand outward and snipping the strand, and then another, and another...
All she knew was dead.
She cut closer and closer, watching as the curly strands fall on the floor- they tickled her feet. It reminded her vaguely of a time when her mother would lift her, and her father would tickle her feet- she would giggle and kick and yell out. One time she had accidentally given her father a black eye, he laughed and told her, "Oh it's alright sweet pea- not like my eyes were great in the first place."
She sniffs, the cutting had become violent and rash- there was no order or patience as she tugged a long strand outward and cut, and cut. The hair made no sound as it fell, for it was light, in the large clumped piles on the bloody floor,
"No!" Lucretia huffed, veering her head away from the scissors in her father's hand, "I want my hair to grow long and pretty! Just like mommy's, please! Please?" He gave her a weary look, gnawing on his thin upper lip and turning to her mother in the doorway- who was failing to conceal her smile, Lucretia tugged his sleeve, "Please daddy, don't cut my hair."
A slur of stutters came from his mouth then, very unsure of what to actually do- he looks back to Fauna, whose shoulders bob up and down as she giggles, he turns back to Lucretia, "Sweet pea, I- I have to. I promise I won't cut it short, just the dead ends- they aren't healthy."
"James, it's okay." Her mom kneels besides Lucretia, patting her cheek. "Lucy, he won't cut anything more than the ends- then your hair will grow pretty and strong! Sometimes you gotta look back and remove some of the bad parts, before you can move forward in a healthy way... Does that make sense?" Lucretia nods slowly, her arms slowly dropping to her sides, "I'll make wedding soup if you be good." Lucretia nodded her head furiously, sitting back into the chair that had been set out.
Lucretia turns her chin as she examines her new hair cut in the mirror, her face looked a little awkward without it's normal framing. She musses a hand through the short strands- no buzz cuts, yet she muses as she jutted her chin outward, making a few faces in the mirror- she certainly looked more intimidating without her hair falling all over her face. She grabs a rag, running it under the sink and wiping the smudges of dirt and blood from her face, as she cleaned the hair and blood from the floor, she couldn't help but wince in pain at her ribs. Broken, most certainly.
She stands up and looks back at her reflection in the mirror, her hair is short now- no one could grab it. For a brief moment, her stomach sank, she did not look much like her mother in that sense, no, not at all.
But she looked strong, much like her mother did.
Her eyes were a spark with knowledge, just like her fathers were.
She smiles faintly, watching as the tears fell down her cheeks. They were lost but never gone, as long as she was here- lost but never gone. Her mother was beautiful with her long hair, but Lucretia quickly found fondness in her short hair- it was her own found beauty. Somewhere, she knows her mother would be proud of that.
At Least they couldn't grab her anymore, she thinks as she flicks off the low light, limping towards the medical bay, lost- but found within her they were proud. She was everything they wanted, everything she wanted, and slowly discovering something new. New in the thread of a stitch that held the flesh of her arm in place, new in the ability to adapt to surroundings quickly, new in being able to fight back , new in the short light hair that would help her escape the reach of enemies.
A soft melody rang throughout the house, a gentle piano solo- played with light fingers, as if anything rough were to corrupt it. Fauna was relaxed in her favorite red chair, a book in her hands- one of Lucretia's favorites, an interstellar adventure that constantly left her on her toes. It was her mother's favorite to.
Lucretia sat beside her father on the piano bench, watching as his fingers naturally connected with the ivory. His eyes were closed, body swaying to the music- lips twitching ever so slightly when the tune grew just the slightest bit in place, before falling back into it's entrancing melody.The song was Black Hawk Waltz, by an artist known as Chris Garneau- it was soft and slow, full of wonder. Sometimes Lucretia would accompany her father in music with her cello, but tonight- she sat there, mesmerized in his presence, swaying along with him to the music.
The piece came to a slow stop, and her father smiled- opening his eyes ever so slightly. "Sweet pea?" He says softly, Lucretia looks up at him, there was a cut across her cheek- she had a book thrown at her, a paper cut, she was never great with others... But she would never understand the insatiable need of an individual to hurt another individual, "Are you feeling better now?"
"Not much," She pauses, "I'm sorry. I'm relaxed but still, I'm confused. May I ask a question?"
"You can always ask me a question Lucy, you never need permission." He smiles, running a hand reassuringly along one of her shoulders, she nods.
"Why do people hurt other people? You teach history, so I guess you've probably found a pattern, right?" She sniffs, rubbing her hands together nervously. She had read some of his history books, ones she could make sense of, at least. Some of the stuff she had read was horrifying, scarier than any monster in the closet or creature beneath the bed. It was real, she didn't understand how her father could adore it. His fingers began a new tune, slow and lovely- she found her head leaning against his shoulder, swaying with his motions.
"Because it satisfies them, when it all comes down to it, they just want that primal satisfaction of feeling powerful- we bend to the will of adrenaline. And yes, many use it for bad, but some use it for good." The notes flutter beneath his fingertips, it reminds her of church bells, "Your mother keeps the world safe, as do others. To have power is satisfying, but how you use it- that is defining. You have the power of knowledge, and you hold it with grace, you don't look down on others because they have less intelligence than you- and when you learn to fight, if you do. I do not believe you would hurt anyone without good intention, you're... you're going to be amazing Lucy, because you hold power with grace and elegance. That's something irreplaceable."
She smiles, leaning her head farther into her father's shoulder, allowing the melody to drift along- enjoying the feeling of her hair tickling her back as she swayed. The stars, she thought, the stars will love me more than this place ever had.
Oh, if only she had the faintest idea.