Snow had fallen, snow on snow

[Christine Daye]

Christine shrugs.

"...at least Aoife got to fly..."

She smiles happily at Helen.

"I would love to hear your story of Hera."

[annabelle]

With a casual contemplating tone Helen starts her story.

“So Hera, daughter of Cronus, Virgin of spring, Mother of Summer, Goddess of Marriage, Queen of Heaven and all Greek Gods was actually a sad sad woman.

You see her brother Zeus was madly in love with her. A truly ambitious and terrifying God who dared to defy the Titans and rise above them. He was courting Hera stubbornly and Hera was denying his affections every single time.

However, Zeus was famous for his…trickery. He got transformed into a cuckoo and seduced her. He knew, you see, that Hera was especially fond of animals so he became one to be cradled in her bosom. Once in her loving arms, he revealed his true glory and exploited her.

Such a devastation for Hera, though he took her virtue and with shame she agreed to marry him.

Strange thing…you will then say this was an unwanted partnership but apparently it wasn’t. Either because of her duty or because she really loved him, Hera ended up being knows as the jealous Goddess.

Hera was battling with her husband’s constant infidelity. Ironically, the goddess of monogamy and fidelity was famous as the betrayed vengeful wife. Cliché.

She started getting revenge by punishing Zeus illegitimate children. Such a pitiful life, isn’t?

Two different stories with many differences and similarities. Both women were jealous, both lead pathetic lives because of that.

Aoife was more on the wrong side there, harming the legitimate children of Lir. What a foolish and unnecessary act. Hera on the other side was betrayed, she was before them, she was exploited and then thrown into a union of infidelity. In that regard, Hera had more reasons to be vengeful. However, she should have punished Zeus himself instead of his children so in that regard she was pretty unreasonable.

In terms of the consequences and the nature of things…both women were unable to accept the fact that their object of passion and obsession had love or desire for other beings. Both acted on their jealousy. Both got punished for that. One was punished by the object of their love the other was punished by their own anger, living a pitiful life, being remembered as the wife that was cheated on instead of the Queen of Gods. The latter fate seems worst to me. Waaaaayyyy worst.

But as you said, at least Aoife flew! Hera never flew, she stayed there drowning in her own anger.

Both good examples with really simple solutions.

Aoife could have loved his children like her own and live a peaceful life without all this unnecessary drama.

Hera could have accepted who Zeus was and go live her life with other lovers too. It was obvious Zeus wasn’t going to change so what was the point of getting revenge.

Anger and bitterness are the worst mentors, won’t get you anywhere. If you succumb you will end up being a pitiful lowlife creature stripped from your light and glory.

Don’t get me wrong…I do sympathise and I understand the source of their lunacy but their actions were equal to just banging their head to a wall. Quite frankly, this is a far more effective way and provide an excellent distraction, from my experience, so I consider this a better reaction. “

She then tilts her head and looks at Christine with curiosity.

“How about you Christine, do you sympathise with them? Do you find their struggles relatable in any way?”

[Christine Daye]

Christine suddenly bursts into tears, her gloved hands going up to her head, pulling at her hair, clawing at her face. She sobs noisily, her breathing coming in helpless choking gasps.

"...I....I.... I.... I can't be jealous... I can't... I can't be anything but perfect... I can't.. I can't have them angry with me... I... have to be grateful... they are so kind... I have no right... to demand anything... whatever they give... I should be grateful... I...I..."

She fights for control, biting her lip so hard it bleeds.

"...I love them... but I'm so afraid... there are so many others... better than me.... prettier than me... cleverer than me... what use am I...? ... what good...? ... they'll find someone better... and they'll leave me... alone... stupid... useless... ugly... stupid... useless... useless... useless... "

She hammers her fists with all her strength into the meat of her thighs in time with her words.

[annabelle]

The pained expression in Helen's eyes a reflection of Christine's despair. She extends her arms to hug her, to offer comfort but she stops abruptly. She is aware Christine doesn't like to be touched so she chooses to keep her distance and offer another kind of comfort.

"Christine..." she says softly like talking to a little child but Christine is lost in a world of despair. Helen looks confused, she said her triad is fine, where is this coming from.

Where?
Where bloody where?

When she starts hurting herself Helen had enough. She grabs Christine's fist with her own and stops her. He strength unnatural for her small frame.

"Don't let your triggers blind your judgement. You are one of the most brilliant and exquisite beings I've ever met." she says and clutches her fists with an intense raw gaze. There is anger there, deep rooted anger and worry.

Suddenly, she stands up. Her hair and dress wet from the stone. The silent wind tangling her long hair, creating a wild portrait of despair, both hers and Christine's.

She extends her arms and looks at the sky with a ceremonial flair.

"Aeolus, Keeper of the Winds, help us!" her voice loud and commanding.

Deep and authoritative, adressing the gods like a priestess who has every right to talk to them.

"We cannot control the winds and they can take our loved ones far away from here, to old or new foreign lands."

Her gaze lost in the sky.
"Please, tame the winds and help us keep them around. Though without them we are lost and in pain."

With a smile she says to Christine.

"Christine come join me. Two voices are better than one. We cannot be ungrateful and demanding but we can ask for the gods to intervene and assist us."

[Christine Daye]

Christine struggles in Helen's hold, but it's not long before she breaks, goes limp. Gives up.

She looks at Helen for a moment, eyes bloody and full of pain, madness like sharks in the depths, waiting, wanting to rend and tear and shred.

Then she does what she always does, and dives headlong into her music.

"Sometimes we're quiet
Because we want to listen
Or 'cause there's so much
We want to say
The heavens and hells in us
Drive us, drive us insane...

I'll hug you like a mountain
I'll hug you like a mountain
I'll hug you close to me
I'll hug the cage in you
The cage is in you-ou
You-ou are close to me

We are lonely sometimes
She said hugging her knees
I love you, yes I love you
Do you love me? Please...

I keep looking for you
Amongst unfamiliar faces
When I walk the streets
Ride the bus
And squeeze myself
out of crowded places

We wash away our lies
With our tears and we're naked
When we're crying
We look for the truth in
Everything we do
And we love ourselves
Laughing, laughing, laughing
And we love ourselves
Laughing, laughing, laughing

I'll be the one you can stay with
When all your loves aren't true
Down hills in my heart
I'll come running to you..."

The last note fades, and Christine blinks in confusion at the other woman.

"...I'm sorry... what we're we talking about?"

((https://youtu.be/PnpAXTu3liE))

[annabelle]

The young Ventrue stops her summoning of the winds. While listening to Christine she turns her back to her.

Her voice another kind of wind. The one that stirs your souls and everything you hidden within. She forcefully tries to keep her mind unaffected by the Malkavian's lyrics but she eventually gives in.

Quietly she starts weeping. Small quiet sobs and trembling. Her face hidden in her hands and blood running from her fingers to her dress. But her dress is wine red and the blood creates stains like the ones from the snow. You wouldn't know if it's water or blood. You wouldn't know how deep she is wounded, she didn't knew either up until recently. But she started gaining clarity, and this was an improvement.

The clarity became a fact, and the fact became a goal and the goal became a plan and for once in her life after the fall she had a purpose.

And now she had Christmas shopping to do.

She wipes her face and regains her composure.

"Christine...I might visit the Theaters with some friends the following week. I am considering of inviting Elisabet, the new Ventrue. I've not been nice to her and she was actually not that bad towards me. Might bring some other friends, I don't really know right now. I am relatively happy I am back and socialising instead of brooding in my room, helps a lot.

When do you perform?"

[Christine Daye]

Hazy and confused, Christine rubs at her face, looking puzzled at the bits of dried blood rubbed off her skin and onto her gloves.

...what just happened? ... oh gods.... don't let me have done anything stupid...

Absently she rubs at her legs where they ache, fishes out a delicate lace handkerchief from her pocket.

She stares at it for a long moment, as if expecting to read the secrets of the universe in its folds. Then, prompted some tone or timbre in Helen's voice, she wordlessly hands the handkerchief to the young Ventrue.

It takes Christine a moment, a clearing of the throat, before she trusts her voice enough to speak. Taking her lead from Helen's matter of fact tone, she replies softly:

"...of course... I shall reserve Box Three for you and your guests... I am next performing... um... Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday ... and the same days next week... just send a note to the box office the night before you want the box... I'll make sure it's all arranged and I will come say hello afterwards... if you would like that... "

She sounds uncertain, fragile, but trying to hold everything together.

[annabelle]

Helen observes Christine and she doesn’t like what she sees.

“You know you can talk to me and if you need anything I’ll be there, do you?” she whispers to her with worry. There is a feeling at the pit of her stomach, Christine’s songs where not joyful anymore but bathed in darkness. She wanted to hug her tightly and try to soothe this shadow out but she knew that would have went horribly wrong and the last thing she wanted was to anger the newly crowned Prince.

“I will arrange it yes, will have to send a few letters around so it might take few days to decide a date and guests. It will be great if you come and say hello afterwards. Oh, I can’t wait to see you perform! I’ve been dreaming this during the time I was away.”

In a desperate attempt to light up the mood and find a way to help Christine she asks.

“We have two hours before the dawn and I have to go buy a certain Christmas gift. The owner is waiting for me…he didn’t had a choice in that…Do you want to come with me? You will love the piece I am buying…” and she winks at her playfully.

[Christine Daye]

Christine is tired, like she always is after a fugue. But she doesn't like seeing Helen worried.

She attempts a small smile of reassurance.

"... I know... thank you... and yes... I shall sing for you... and it will all be lovely! "

She tilts her head.

"...yes... I would love to come shopping with you... if it's not too far?"

Another smile, easier this time and she flourishes one hand.

"Please... lead on!"