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In Romania, it sure did rain.
A storm so powerful it seemed to have some kind of vendetta against Castle Dimitrescu had blown in around the early afternoon, and by the time dinner was almost ready to be served, the brisk rainfall had warped into a mini hurricane. Raindrops fell like silver bullets and thunder cracked repeatedly, lightning tearing through the sky with white fangs, splitting the horizon in two. Water splattered across the windows like sprays of blood, and Alcina went around making sure they were all secure against the howling wind, seeing as the maids were too useless to do so.
While checking the glass and locks in the western wing, a massive boom shook the entire castle, making even Alcina feel small in comparison. Pulling the drapes shut firmly, there was a second crash of thunder, but this time, she heard something inside of it.
A whimper.
Alcina turned. The room closest to her was the library. It had to have come from in there.
Creeping inside, Alcina first checked the windows, making sure there were no leaks, then looked for the culprit of the cry. It wasn’t very hard when the sky roared like a vicious beast and caused its victim to sob from behind a bookshelf. Peeking around the polished wood, she found the sufferer.
It was her eldest daughter, curled into the fetal position, her knees to her chest, hands clamped over her ears, shaking all over. She flinched when a burst of thunder seemed to shake the entire castle, threatening to bring the ceiling down on top of them, and then let out a choked whimper, digging her claws into her scalp in a vain effort to block out the noise.
“Bela?”
Bela’s head snapped up, and Alcina watched as shame crept into her expression.
“M-Mother--” she stammered. “I-- I--”
Alcina walked over and crouched down next to her. She set a hand on Bela’s shoulder, feeling her shudder beneath her touch. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, Mother,” Bela said, despite her obvious panic attack. “Of course.”
Alcina narrowed her eyes. “Bela, what have I told you about lying to be about your health?”
Bela lowered her head. “I shouldn’t do it…”
“Right. Now, I will ask you again: are you alright?”
Bela shifted, sniffling. “I’m-- I’m just a little freaked out, that’s all. But-- but I’m okay. It isn’t that bad.”
And then, like it was trying to be helpful, thunder crashed, and Bela jolted right into Alcina’s arms with a yelp, practically vibrating with fear. She clung to Alcina’s gown with her claws, her eyes wide and bulging.
“Isn’t that bad, huh?” Alcina said.
“It-- it just startled me!” Bela blustered. She was adamant about saving face, it seemed.
“Uh huh,” Alcina set a hand on her back, rubbing up and down her spine slowly. “Bela, I thought you said you weren’t scared of storms anymore? Were you lying just to look strong for your younger sisters?” She squinted. “Or did they shame you again? I’ve told those girls that all fears are valid, no matter how irrational--”
“N-no!” Bela cried, clenching fabric between desperate claws. “No! Don’t get mad at them, please! It-- it wasn’t them!”
Alcina looked at her curiously, one eyebrow raised.
Bela lowered her head. “I-- I’m not afraid of storms. Rainstorms, I mean. But the thunder…” She cast a dismayed look at the nearby window and jumped when lightning torched the sky. She huddled closer. “It’s just so loud. And dangerous! What if-- what if there’s a tornado?!”
Alcina bit back a laugh. Her eldest child had the wildest imagination.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “Romania doesn’t get tornadoes.”
“It has before!” Bela said, steadfast on her opinion. “And FLOODS! Oh, Mother, what if it floods? What if the castle floods?! Where will we live?! What if-- what if--”
Sensing Bela’s growing panic, Alcina cupped her cheeks and made her look at her. “Breathe, darling. Breathe. You’re starting to spiral.”
“But-- but--”
“Breathe. Here, follow me,” she then inhaled deeply. “Come on, my love. Just like me. In…” She demonstrated again.
Bela shakily inhaled.
“And out…” She exemplified.
Bela shakily exhaled.
They repeated this process three more times before Bela was calmer, though she wouldn’t stop glancing out the window. The rain had gotten so bad that the trees outside weren’t even visible through the pelting sheets of rain. The lightning, however, still made itself known, slashing right through the water walls like the talons of a monster.
“It’s so bad out there,” Bela murmured, her eyes becoming distant as she started wrapping herself up in her own fear again.
“Ah, ah,” Alcina redirected her gaze over to her. “Don’t look at that, darling. Look at me.”
Bela swallowed thickly and obeyed. Her claws dug into Alcina’s arms. “Mother,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’m-- I’m scared.”
Alcina frowned, though she was proud of Bela for openly admitting such a thing. She pulled her in close.
“It’s alright, my darling,” Alcina murmured. “It’s alright. Nothing is going to get you. It’s just a noise.”
“I-I know, but--”
Thunder cracked, and Bela buried her face against Alcina’s chest. Her shaking worsened.
“I hate it, I hate it,” Bela wept.
Alcina moved her hands over Bela’s ears, holding them firmly, hoping to block out the sound for her precious daughter. How could she forget that Bela didn’t like loud noises? Of course this would be like hell for her.
“Shh, shh,” Alcina rocked Bela back and forth in her lap. A faint rumble rippled through the house and she glared at the window, cursing the storm for causing her baby so much distress. “It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay…”
She spent five more minutes on the floor before Bela finally pulled her head back. She didn’t look any less terrified, nor had the storm lessened its brutality, but there was a new light in her eyes. Alcina already knew what she was doing.
“Bela, don’t--”
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Bela said anyway, dipping her head for a moment. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Don’t even pretend, child,” Alcina scolded. “You’re still as white as a ghost. And these shivers… You’re shaking like a newborn goat!”
Bela shook her head. “I’ll be fine. You said it yourself, didn’t you?”
Alcina wrinkled her nose, then sighed. “Alright then. Shall we both go down to the parlor, then? I should check on your sisters.”
Guilt flitted through Bela’s eyes. “Yes. Of course. We must make sure that they aren’t scared.”
That got a small chuckle out of Alcina. “Sure.”
They both stood up, with Alcina helping Bela on her unsteady legs. While walking down the hallway to get to the main parlor, both mother and daughter couldn’t help but gaze out the windows.
The sky was the color of the ocean- dark, wild, and swallowing everything in its wake. The only thing that could possibly rival its impenetrable wall of thick black-blue were the constant cracks of blazing lightning that split the roiling clouds like a hot knife. The storm would be cut in half at the flash of its searing glory, then sewed itself back together like a monstrous, watery wound. The wind was so fierce that it seemed to be sent by an enraged being to punish the castle for some unruly sin. Water rushed down the pathways that Alcina could just barely make out in the garden like baby rivers, threatening to drag anything and anyone in its way down the dirt with it. Raindrops battered the glass and walls and doors, knocking so viciously like an unwanted guest.
An unwanted guest. That was what this damn storm was. And Alcina was at her wit’s end with this elemental stranger.
Especially when one particular crash of thunder knocked the power right out.
Now, a good portion of Castle Dimitrescu used natural lighting to ward away the darkness, sunlight and torches and whatnot, but there were also light fixtures and lamps, which were cut into complete blackness by the outage.
Shadows swept around the corridor like curtains, chased off only by a few flickering torches. At Alcina’s side, there was a sharp cry of terror that pulled at her heart with talons, and she turned to see Bela pressed against the wall, trembling and breathing heavily, her eyes practically bulging right out of her skull.
“Oh, honey,” Alcina said sadly. She reached out, tenderly cupping her daughter’s cheeks. Bela was aware enough to press into her touch like she usually did, which was good. She was too far gone in her panic just yet. “Shh, shh… It’s okay.”
“Th-the lights--” Bela gasped. Her hands were pressed flat against the wall behind her, claws dug against the plaster. She wouldn’t look at Alcina, instead peering around her figure to the storm outside. “It’s-- it’s--”
“Breathe, Bela,” Alcina instructed, seeing her spiral again. It was worrying just how quickly it could happen, coming out of nowhere and consuming her like a colony of angry fire ants. “Breathe. In and out. Just like I taught you.”
“M-Mother--”
“Shh, shh,” Alcina stroked Bela’s cheeks with her thumbs. She moved closer, trying to block out the view of the windows with her form. “Don’t look at that. Look at me. I’m right here and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Bela whimpered and looked up at her. Hot tears slid against Alcina’s fingers and she brushed them away. She smiled when she heard the shallow sound of her daughter’s rhythmic breathing.
“Good girl,” Alcina cooed. “Good, good girl. Just like that.”
Bela closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Alcina’s smile grew a little wider.
“You’re doing so well,” Alcina praised her, knowing it would help her work harder to calm down. Bela was always the easiest to manage out of all of her children, as all it took was a few words of approval for her to do just about anything she wanted. “Such a good job, even when you’re--”
“I’m not--”
“I know, baby,” Alcina said, humoring her. She moved one hand to stroke Bela’s hair. “You’re not scared. Of course you aren’t. I was going to say when you’re in the middle of a blackout.”
Bela opened one eye to stare at her incredulously. Alcina grinned at her. Bela huffed, closed her eye, and then nuzzled into her hand with a faint purr.
They stayed like that for a little longer before Bela finally extracted herself from the wall. The color had yet to return to her face, nor had she stopped shaking, but at least her breathing was back under control.
“Ready?” Alcina asked.
Bela nodded quietly.
With one hand on her daughter’s back, Alcina continued down the hallway with Bela.
Upon entering her favorite parlor, Alcina found her other two daughters already inside. Cassandra was stretched out in front of the fireplace like a lounging cat, her head pillowed by her arms and a look of bliss on her face, while Daniela was bouncing by the window, watching the storm eagerly. The youngest had always been fascinated by the sheer destruction of weather.
“Thirty-four!” Daniela shouted when lightning flashed across the sky.
“That’s great, Dani,” Cassandra said dreamily without lifting her head or even opening her eyes.
“What are you two doing?” Alcina asked in amusement while ducking inside.
“Counting lightning bolts,” Daniela answered.
“Relaxing,” Cassandra said a moment later. “Isn’t this weather amazing?”
Bela winced.
“It certainly is something,” Alcina said, glancing out the window. She gave Bela’s back a gentle rub before walking over to her chair and sitting down. Daniela instantly skittered over to her and pressed her head right into the space between her neck and shoulder with a bright smile. Alcina chuckled, stroking her cheek, earning her blissful purrs.
“Where were you, Bel?” Cassandra asked, rolling over to look at Bela, but not quite getting up. She seemed much too relaxed.
“I-I, umm--”
“She was helping me close the windows,” Alcina answered for her eldest. “After I had to berate her for reading in the dark again.” She gave Bela a playful glare, making Bela smile faintly.
“Ooooh,” Daniela giggled. “You got in troubleeeee!”
Bela rolled her eyes. She finally moved from her rigid position by the door to sit on the floor next to Alcina’s chair. Alcina reached down to set a comforting hand on her head.
It was then that thunder ripped through the castle, causing all of the walls to shudder, and each of Alcina’s girls jolted. Daniela and Cassandra’s heads popped up, while Bela sank her claws in the cracks between the floorboards, trying to keep her breathing under control.
“Goddamn,” Cassandra muttered, sitting up straight. She stretched out the sore spots in her back. “We’re going to drown at this rate.”
Bela’s shoulders lurched. Alcina gave Cassandra a stern glare.
“Oooh, you know what we should do?” Daniela said. She didn’t wait for an answer. “Beli should sing to us!”
“What?” Bela snapped her head to her younger sister faster than the lightning could strike outside.
“Ohh, yeah,” Cassandra nodded.
“What are you talking about?”
Daniela gave her a look. “Don’t be dumb! We all know you like to sing!”
“No, I don’t,” Bela stammered, the tips of her ears turning red.
“Yes, you do,” Cassandra said. “We hear you sing when you fill up the bathtub.”
“You can hear me?!” Bela shrieked.
“Yeah!” Daniela said. “When you hit that vibrato last night… Incredible! Amazing! Showstopping!”
“You did sound very nice,” Alcina nodded.
“MOTHER!!”
Bela buried her face in her hands, which had gone completely red with embarrassment. Alcina chuckled and scratched her scalp.
“You have a wonderful voice, darling,” Alcina said.
“Yeah!” Daniela agreed. “Much better than Cassie. She sounds like a crow with a chicken bone stuck in its throat!”
“At least I don’t belt at the same octave as the torture victims,” Cassandra struck back, and she and Daniela both burst into laughter.
“Now, now, girls,” Alcina said.
“Oh, come on, Mother,” Cassandra said. “Daniela knows I’m just kidding. The victims sound better than she does, and they’re not even trying to sing!”
Daniela shrieked with more laughter. She didn’t seem offended at all. “Oh, I sound bad? You know the noises a donkey makes?”
Cassandra slapped the ground while snorting into her hand.
Alcina rolled her eyes in a good-natured way, then smiled down at Bela. “You would be a step above whatever they can do. But only if you want to.”
Bela looked up at her, her amber-gold eyes glinting in the firelight, then nodded. After a moment of silently encouraging herself, she took a deep breath and began to sing.
It was a beautiful melody in the howling of the storm.