Ariel sobbed as her parents closed the door. She felt horrible, and her arm hurt. So did her cheek and her lip. She looked at the shattered lamp on the ground that she'd accidentally knocked over where her father had grabbed her. His strength was incredible and painful.
She rubbed her upper arm. She could hear talking in the hall but didn't know what was being said. She hurt inside where no one could see. They thought she was a whore. Why didn't they believe her? She tried so hard to please them, to get their love but never.
"I'm sorry." She said to no one and wiped at her face but the tears kept coming down. Maybe she just wasn't worthy of love. That had to be it. She was just a broken useless human being, worthless to those around her.
She grabbed the garbage can in her room and started to toss pieces of the broken lamp into it. The whole time tears threatened to choke her. She jumped when she heard a knock on her door. She got up quickly running to it to open it.
"Father I…" She was mistaken about who was standing there. A young man was standing there. He didn't look much older than her or her sister. "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else." She said lowering her head. "I think you have the wrong room."
"No, I have the right one." His voice was strong and sure. He sounded a lot older than he looked. She became rather nervous and took a couple steps back not looking at him. She wasn't sure who he was nor what he wanted.
"Do you know who I am?" He asked her and she shook her head.
"I'm Malachi Vento. I heard what just happened." She looked up then in surprise.
"Oh, I'm sorry for the noise. I promise to be more quiet." She promised before she could stop herself. He wasn't what she thought he'd look like. He just looked at her, studying her.
"You don't seem much like your sister. At least not as headstrong nor driven. I see that your parents seem to think you a failure." He noted the look of her. He actually felt bad for her, she looked pathetic. Malachi kind of cringed on the inside, he could be an insensitive prick sometimes he realized.
"Oh." She said wringing her hands and looked at the broken lamp. "I can't really be compared to Natasha. Um I'm sorry about your lamp, I was just cleaning it up." She really keeping her gaze averted from him now. Oh what would her parents say if they knew she was talking with him?
"Just leave it. I'll have Darcy come and clean it up." He informed as she moved to reach down and continue cleaning.
"But I broke it. It's not right to make another clean up after me. I'm clumsy and that's what I'm here for anyways." She felt heat in her face. She was talking too much.
"Did you really break it, or because you were tossed into it?" Shouldn't she be angry and pissed that her parents would treat her this way? Not acting like it was all her fault and some meak creature? Malachi was not one to sugar coat things. He tended to just say what was on his mind. She didn't flinch from it though. She did seem to want to explain or placate.
"It's my fault I shouldn't have displeased them so." She clarified. She felt new tears coming up, he must really think her pathetic.
"Does your sister receive the same treatment as you?"
"Natasha? No, no! She's a good daughter, she's perfect." She didn't say it snidely, but there was a bit of envy there. "She's very proud to be picked. She won't make you unhappy." He raised an eyebrow at her. They did a number on her hadn't they?
"What is so wrong with you that you were not brought as a choice?" He asked her. Malachi really wasn't prepared for the sight of the girl before him. He'd thought that the girl in this room had to be exactly like her sister, just acting out more. Some pampered brat throwing a tantrum. That was not what stood before him.
She was so… normal. Not normal in a sense of looks, because she was every bit as beautiful as her sister. But he'd been expecting something worse. He didn't expect her to look as she did, nor how the air around her felt. The scent of her wasn't devious, nor conniving. Honestly there was this scent to her that reminded him of his kind. Not exactly though, he didn't sense a animal side like he had. Still there was more to her, and he found it intriguing.
Her air though was humble, and rather depressing. She was the very opposite of the rest of her family. She really did think herself less and useless like her parents said. The girl was brainwashed by them. Beaten down, and it stopped her from being what she could be.
Her eyes were a vivid green. Bright but they held shadows. Looking at her he found that his anger spiked a bit more. If handed her and her sister, he would have picked her. Even with the pathetic air around her and the weak look about her. She was clearly underfed and underweight but she wasn't unhealthy. Still she wasn't hiding anything nor false. He could have worked with her. He could have handled it way better if she had been a choice. However it was Natasha's name on the contract signed hours ago.
"Because I wasn't born to be perfect and beautiful. Natasha always had it much easier." She said and bent to pick up the lamp needing something to do. She couldn't take just standing here having him judge her.
"Don't you think that you should be given a chance? Or are you just that weak about it?"
"Does it matter?" She said bending down to pick up the pieces of lamp.
"I said leave it." His voice wasn't raised, but it was a bit sharper. She stood back up straight.
"You are talented, you healed Jeremiah." She gave a very slow nod. He was getting annoyed at how she kept her face tipped down, hiding her face and expression. She shouldn't, she was a Standish. One day she would have to lead her family name. Even with their age, she had to know this. He felt this need to push at her a bit.
"Do you possess any other talents besides healing?" He asked really curious. Did Natasha have any? She smelled rather normal and mundane when he scented her earlier. His animal snubbing Natasha quite a bit.
"Father says I shouldn't speak of such things. It just points out how freakish I am." He studied her, what did she know about freakish? He could do a few things that would send her running. He bet he'd scare her out of her mind if she saw just what he could turn into. Did she know things like him existed? Probably not, and he wasn't going to ask. He'd had a conversation with his father, they knew the Standish were not changelings. Still this daughter seemed to have abilities. So their line wasn't a total waste he guessed.
"Look at me." He said to her. She stiffened a bit but did as he asked. He examined her, she had bruising starting on her face. Her lower lip was split, a bit of dried blood there. On her left arm was a hand print, the bruise starting on her pale flesh. Why? It was so senseless to him and wrong.
"How often do they punish you?" He asked. He didn't normally get worked up over such things. He normally didn't care, but this girl was different. Her treatment really bothered him on an element level.
"When I deserve it." She said softly, her voice was soft and musical. Yet had a very sad tone to it.
"That is not an answer, how often do they hit you?"
"I normally do something displeasing everyday." She reached up and touched her cheek. "But I have been getting better, only a few times a week." A few times a week? They punished this girl for simply being alive. He didn't get it. He glanced toward where he knew Natasha was. Would she be the same way?
"Do you think that everyone should be punished as you are?" She shook her head lowering it again. "Would you strike another if they displeased you?" She shook her head again. "Would you strike a child if they needed punishment as you do?"
"No!" She said tears in her eyes. "You must think me a very horrible person to ask such things. Please don't think ill of my family because of me." You know for a fourteen year old she sure had a very proper air about her. Spoke like she was older. Malachi liked it, she seemed liked an old soul in a young body. Something Malachi could relate to.
"What I think of you has nothing to do with your family. Why do you keep staring at the floor?" Her refusal to look up really annoyed him. He'd spoken to her longer than he intended. The longer he stood here asking questions the more he wanted to know about her.
"It's where a servant should look."
"I thought you were their daughter."
"I am, but I'm better suited as Natasha's servant than an actual daughter." He stared at her for a moment. The girl had definitely had a number done to her.
"You should heal your wounds." He said to her as she touched her lip and winced. She dropped her hand holding her left wrist.
"I can only heal others, not myself." She explained quietly. He moved forward to stand in front of her. He touched her face and then her arm. She gasped a little at the sensation going through her. This odd tingle and awareness. She'd never felt that before when another touched her.
"My father will more than likely talk to you in the morning. Can't say what we witnessed made either of us happy." He told her and she just stared at the floor. She had become more nervous. He could scent it.
"Darcy will be down in a moment to clean up that lamp, so don't touch it." He said knowing that she would probably start picking it up again when he left the room.
"Okay." She replied standing there.
"I don't like being disobeyed. Just because I'm the younger doesn't mean I don't hold power as well." He reminded her. He wasn't sure why it seemed important that she not pick up the lamp but it was.
"As you wish." She said and for a second it sounded like she was annoyed. However looking at her, he didn't think that he'd heard her tone right. He pressed a button near the door and left the room.
Ariel looked up at the door as he disappeared and let out a slow breath. He was intimidating, and clearly brutally honest. She had no idea what to think about Malachi Vento, she just hoped next time she might be able to look up a bit more rather than stare at the floor. After all their families were going to be seeing a lot of each other over the coming years. Especially once he and Natasha got married.