Lace

Sep. 27th, 2006 08:45 am
cuimhinliom: (I'm not that girl)
[personal profile] cuimhinliom
It looked beautiful, falling down over her shoulders in a rippling cascade of lightly embroidered lace, pooling at the floor at her feet. The gold of her hair shone through it and with the tiara settled on top of her curls, Keelia thought Alisha was the one who looked like a fairy princess today.

"It's perfect."

"You don't think it's too long?" Alisha twisted this way and that, biting her lip and frowning at the mirror.

"I think it will settle nicely on the train, sort of an overlay effect."

"I don't know..." Alisha pulled the tiara out of her hair, handing the veil back to the saleslady with a slightly frazzled smile. "Why is it so hard to pick out anything?"

"Because you want it to be perfect." Keelia looked her over. "What do you think about the dress?"

"Meh."

"Right. Not the dress." She moved to unbutton each of the tiny pearl buttons running up Alisha's back. "Next one?"

"Yeah." That seemed to revitalized Alisha's exuberance and she dropped a kiss on Keelia's cheek before darting, as much as one could dart in a dress with a five foot train, back to the dressing room.

Keelia wandered a bit in the shop, waiting until she was called to help do up the next in a series of dresses. Her fingers brushed over the veils, letting the lace drift over her fingers. On impulse, she picked one up, settling it and attaching it to a simple circlet. It was soft, flowing over her shoulders and the image in the mirror brought up another that brought tears to her eyes. Her fingers touched the glass, to reassert this reality, this time.

"It looks lovely." The saleswoman's voice made her spin, quickly, blinking back the tears. She knew her empty ring finger had been noted and she felt a little silly as she pulled it off. The saleswoman took it from her with a warm smile. "Dreaming of a young man to wear it for?"

Keelia shook her head, just a little, and managed a smile in return. "Maybe someday."

Alisha called her name, and she hurried back to help her. She was happy. She had Midir. She had Michael. They had a son they were raising. And Midir, god bless him, she knew still considered them married from the first time. But Etain had been the bride then, not her, and there was an ache inside as she felt her life subsumed again into hers. It was supposed to get easier with acceptance, not harder, but every day she felt herself, her separateness, sliding away and wondered if a time would come when Etain was all that was left.

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Keelia Gallagher / Étáin

January 2010

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