Dear Amelia
Preface
A woman- No. A Queen, of a large Island town, populated by elves of all kinds, cared for her husband--Very much. But her heart was held by another. She couldn't lie to her heart, and try to fall in love with the King. One late evening, the King informed her that he would be leaving the following day, to go on a four month journey, and that night took her to bed. The next morning, the Queen waved her husband off, and then rushed back to the castle to pack her belongings. She went to one of her loyal servants, telling her that her mother was in dire need of her daughter--And then fled from the castle--to be gone for the four month duration of her Husband's trip. The Queen did not journey to see her mother at all--in fact, her mother had died two months prior--she journeyed to see her love, the one who had held her heart since her 18'th day of birth. She traveled by carriage for 3 days, alone, to see her love. Once she arrived, he scooped her up, and placed a loving kiss on her lips--needless to say, he took her to bed. Not just once, mind you, several times, within the first month or so. The rest of the time was spent catching up, as she hadn't seen him in over 5 years, since her wedding. They swam in the small pond, nestled into the back of his estate, ate picnic lunches, and walked along the beach; it was a romance novelists dream. All too soon the four months ended, and she said her last goodbyes, and began the 3 day carriage ride back to the castle. She would be back a single day prior to the King's arrival back home. Once back in her home, she caught up with her ladies maid, and confided in her, of her love, and how she had spent the 4 months prior. She giggled, and nodded, swearing to keep the Queen's secret. That night, rounding near midnight, her door creaked open, and the large bed began to move, as someone lay behind her. She gasped, picking up the dagger from her nightside table, with a death grip. She demanded who the intruder was, then heard a masculine laugh. She sighed, knowing that laugh. She relaxed, and placed the dagger back upon her table. She caught up with the King, and asked about his foreign affairs, and kissed him softly upon his lips--only to be kissed back with an amount of passion she had never witnessed, and a lusty stare. That night he took her to bed more than once, and claimed his love for her, for yet another time. She just smiled, and said the basic, 'You too, darling...You too.' phrase, and curled up next to her husband, falling asleep.
Two months later, she was getting sick often, and having late night cravings, and it was determined that she was with child. Seven months after that, she birthed a beautiful baby girl--a half elf. It was determined that she would be the new Queen, if anything were to happen to the Queen, and that she would have great powers. The child was named Amelia, after the Queen's dead mother. Amelia grew up normally, save for the intensive constant magical training. Her seventh birthday came 'round, and there were whispers. Nasty, filthy whispers, about her mother; and she was just old enough to comprehend them. She ran to her mother, telling her of what she heard. Her mother was sitting on a blanket, next to a small spring, on the castle's estate, playing with the petals off of a strand of honeydew. She smiled, seeing her young child running towards her. She began making a crown out of the honeydew, as her daughter frantically explained the rumors she had overheard. Her mother--the queen-- sighed, and placed the crown atop her head, a small from placed upon her always smiling lips. It was that day, that the Queen admitted to her that she was not the King's daughter, but the daughter of a human...
That night, the King had confronted the Queen about the rumors, and she denied to them, and swore up and down that Amelia was his daughter. The King doubted her, because Amelia was only half elf, but the Queen still stood strong on her word. He then spoke of another rumor, and raped her, unknowingly in front of his own daughter. Afterwards, the Queen fell to her knees crying, and Amelia immediately ran to her mother's aide. The King, outraged, demanded everyone leave the room, leaving only his wife, his daughter, and himself. He grabbed a fistful of the Queen's hair, and demanded the truth, threw her about, screamed at her... Amelia screamed and fought him, begged him to let her mommy go. He shoved her across the room and demanded that she be silent, before he permanently silenced her.
Early the next morning, Amelia awoke in her own bed, motherless. From that moment on, she vowed to get revenge upon the King. She was determined that she had a better family, and she would find it. But first--She would have to sneak away, and grow older. The King needed an heir, and she was the only one, but she would rather kill herself, than become the Queen of a kingdom that thought of her as a b*****d, and to a kingdom where she would be brought to rule by the man who killed her mother, and raped her, in front of his seven year old daughter.
Chapter One
Amelia giggled as her mother poked her nose and kissed her cheek.
"But why, mommy? Why can't daddy know that he isn't--"
She was shushed by her mother's fingers pressing against her small lips.
"Shh...My baby, no one must ever know..." The Queen whispered as she tucked the blankets in around Amelia. She placed a kiss on the child's forehead, and brushed her fingertips over her eyelids, running them down her cheek lovingly.
"Sleep my baby...Just sleep..." The Queen stood up gracefully, and stepped out of the room, wiping away the tears brimming her bottom eyelids, and closed the door softly, with a distinct click. She turned around, and gasped, surprised to see her husband standing not two inches from her face. His normally warm, grey eyes stared back into hers, cold, harsh, and seemingly judgmental.
She smiled, her lips quivering in fear of why he seemed so upset.
"Hello, dear. How are you this ev-"
"Follow me, now." He cut her off, turned on his heel, and entered the office that was down the hall.
The Queen followed him, bewildered. He had never used such an...evil tone in his voice with her before, in all five years that she had been married to him. Though, deep down, she knew, she knew damn good and well what was wrong with him. He had heard exactly what her dear daughter had, and he was not happy about what he heard.
She entered the room, and observed her surroundings. The room was freezing, despite the blaze flickering form within the marble fireplace, and each candle placed on pedestals in each corner of the room. The walls were cement, the furniture either slate grey, or pitch black. The room itself had an eerie glow to it, as all of the shadows were caused by the room itself--there were no windows, and the only exit was the door they entered from. The only other people in the room were two guards, on the far side of the room, standing with their backs towards the entrance.
"What's wrong, dear? What ails you so terribly?" She asked, hoping that her assumptions weren't correct, and that it was something completely different.
The King sighed, extremely aggravated, with her, and with himself for even believing what he had heard.
"There have been whispers, Lenne...The whispers have been going on for some time now, but it seems their volume escalated until what it was today. I ignored them at first, but they are loud, Lenne. They are loud, persistent whispers, that I simply can no longer ignore, and so I am confronting you. Not even my wonderful, peaceful gardens are safe from their whispers, Lenne. The maids, the townsfolk...Everyone whispers now-a-days. Why, Lenne? Have you heard them, my love? Surely you have? They might as well be whispering in your ear, with how frequent and loud as they are." The King stared into her eyes, trying to read the emotions and thoughts that hid behind her sparkling deep blue eyes.
The queen shook her head. "No, my King; I haven't heard such rumors. Remus...I don't listen to things such as that. They are to be put out with the next week’s garbage, love. You should know that."
The King punched the desk to his right. "Damnit, Lenne. How can you not listen? They are about me, you, and our daughter? How can you stand there, and hear them, without setting them straight. Lenne...They say..The whispers, that is...They say that Amelia...that she is not my child; that I am clean, that I cannot produce an heir, and I panicked, and sent you to some man, in my leave. I did no such thing, I know...But you- The guards informed me that you had left, and arrive the night I returned, mere hour prior to myself. Why, Lenne? Where were you?"
Lenne smiled sadly at her husband, and placed a gentle palm atop his cheek, and almost brought herself to the brink of crying as he jerked away as if she had melted the flesh that resided there.
"No, my dear, I pushed them out, so that I didn't hear them at all. I merely went to visit my bed-ridden mother, who--"
"No, Lenne." He broke off her words.
"She died two months prior. You were with someone...A man, no doubt. Who, Lenne? Tell this King, so that I may know." He massaged his temples, upset, infuriated, and on the brink of tears.
"I-- I-- Why? What would you do with him?" She stood there, denying the King.
"Lenne! You will tell me who you spend four months with, unaccompanied, and why!"
She glared. "He is my love, unlike you. He cares for me. I will never tell you his name--You would have him murdered!" She was in tears now, she hated him seeing her weak, but she couldn't push them back any longer.
The King, infuriated, spat in a goblet on his desk. "I should spit on you, whore, as if you were this cup. You are the lowest of low, to go behind my back...My Queen..."
His voice grew to deeper lengths. "You’re about to see just how clean I am..."
The Queen's eyes widened, shocked. "You wouldn't dare..."
"GUARDS!" He ordered their attention.
"Please go patrol the front gates until I call for your presence to be returned to my side."
"Yes sir!" They nodded, and walked in step, out of the door, not daring to look back, or to defy their King.
The King took large deliberate steps, pushing the door closed, with a small opening, and then turned heading towards his wife.
She gasped, and backed up, but he caught her before she could take more than three steps.
"We'll now see who's clean and who's not."
Amelia sat up in her bed, clutching the bed sheets with a death grip.
"Mommy.....? Mommy...?!?" The little girl cried out into the night.
She heard noises down the hall, and so she scampered towards them, her tiny feet making little pattering noises as she ran, looking for her mother. Once she reached the room where the noises were coming from, she peeked through the cracked open door, and gasped. Her daddy was...Her mother.... She closed her eyes and fell down, beginning to cry silently, the tears pouring down her rosy cheeks.
He glared at her naked body lying on the ground, shuddering as she cried.
"I can't birth a child? I don't have an heir? The heir I had, is a b*****d? Lenne, you whore! How could you do this to me? Eh? EH? Answer me, whore!"
He pulled her body halfway off of the ground by her hair.
"I didn't break your jaw, b***h. Speak!"
When she still didn't break, he threw her into the desk.
Amelia, once she heard the screaming begin again, pushed open the door, and ran over to her mother's broken body. She was pale, covered in bruises, and abrasions. small cuts covering her slender form. She threw herself over her mother, crying.
"No, daddy! Don't hurt mommy! I'll fix it, daddy. I'll make it all better! I love you daddy! Please don't hurt mommy!" She tried to plead.
Her mother's weak hand managed to stroke her hair once, before falling down to her side, as she saw black, and her breathing became ragged.
"Mommy!" She shrieked, turning back to her mother.
She then cried out as she was slung into the back of the door to the room, the last thing she saw, being her mother being choked of what little oxygen she could manage to get to her lungs. She then saw black, and she prayed that it stayed that way.
Amelia sat up in bed with a start, her own beads of sweat slipping off of her forehead. Her sheets were drenched in sweat, and she couldn’t help but notice her small seemingly fragile wrists wrenching at the silky fabric. She slowly let go, her muscles tense from gripping them so strongly for the duration of her dream.
‘Why must I keep seeing it? Wasn’t the real thing good enough?’ She bit her quivering bottom lip, in an attempt to stop the tears she knew were close to pour out of her blue eyes.
She blinked; a single tear rolled down her cheek and fell upon her lips. Her tongue lapped at the salty liquid, and she sighed, shrugging the top half of body, still trying to gain control of her breathing and her racing heart.
She threw her legs over the side of her round mattress, which sat almost three and a half feet in the air. Her bare heels touching the cold floor, as she toed on her slippers. She shivered at the feeling, and stood up slowly. She crossed the room towards her large wardrobe, and stood on her tip-toes, grasping her Peignoir, and slipping her arms through the arm holes, and tied it under her chest. She then softly padded over to the thin piece of sheer cloth used as her door. They would be putting in a wooden one later on that day, the King had promised her…
‘He always keeps his promises.’
She shuddered as she left the safety of her room, and then glided down the stairs and into the kitchen. Her throat seemed as if it were flaming, as if she had swallowed fire itself. She gently opened a cabinet above the large sink, which sat in the island in the center of the room. She grabbed a glass generally used for champagne, and filled it to the brim with water, downing it in one sip.
She licked her lips, filled the glass again, and downed it for a second time.
She let out a comfortable sigh, placed her glass softly beside the sink, then headed back to her room to attempt to get some sleep again.
Community Member