Fic Post: Merope Hid Her Face For Shame: I Knew I Was Not Bound For Heaven
Title: Merope Hid Her Face For Shame: I Knew I Was Not Bound For Heaven
Author/Artist: Atalanta Pendragonne (atalantapendrag)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s)/character(s): Merope Gaunt, various OCs
Summary: Merope finds the Saint Thaïs Refuge to be anything but a sanctuary.
Warnings: Institutionalized cruelty. Follows And Eve Was Weak
I Knew I Was Not Bound For Heaven
In a Magdalen asylum with my penitent's dress
and my baby bouncing on no-body's knee
My eternal happiness would depend upon
how well I could renounce nature's ways
I could never speak my name
all my work would deepen shame
and I'd never be acceptable again
Maighread Medbh, "The Price That Love Denied"
It was cold, and a woman was crying. The blanket pulled over her was coarse and scratchy. Merope stirred fitfully, trying to remember where she was and why. She'd been... ill? She had vague memories of being made to sit up and swallow mouthfuls of thin, flavourless gruel. People coming and going, hushed conversations; hadn't she heard screaming at one point? Or had it been her own screams? She sat up carefully, trying to figure out why she was so stiff and sore.
The thin crying from across the room broke off in an abrupt gasp, and a whisper. "You're awake. They didn't think you'd wake. Didn't think... oh, I shouldn't be saying that sort of thing!" Looking over at her, Merope noticed with surprise that the young woman's hair had been shorn to the very skin, and none too gently either; dried blood was crusted over several long scratches. "I'm..." She looked down, seeming almost ashamed. "I'm called Hilda." She gave Merope a nervous smile, keeping her voice low. "Everyone's been curious about you. They never tell us anything. All anyone knows is--" She shut her mouth with a near-audible snap, gaze dropping. "Saint Thaïs, lead all sinners to the path of penance and peace," she said hastily.
"Amen. Gossiping already, Hilda?" Merope looked up at the new speaker. Another woman, this one in some sort of heavy robes with a stiff headdress, and there was something in her smile that made Merope uneasy.
"No, Sister Columba." There was a faint tremor in Hilda's voice.
"Good. I would hate to think you'd require further correction so soon, or that you'd try to spread your wickedness to our newest arrival." She walked toward Merope, assessing her coldly as she sat on the edge of the bed. "You've been quite a bit of bother already. The doctor didn't think you'd last the night. Well," stepping to the very edge of the bed, she smiled complacently. "it only goes to show that a doctor isn't the highest authority, does it? Do you know where you are, girl?"
"I was... someone gave me an address..."
"You're at the Saint Thaïs Refuge, child. You seem to be recovering nicely, you should be able to start doing your proper work soon. You came to us on the feast day of St. Melania the Younger... you'll be Melanie among us." At Merope's confused expression, Sister Columba only smiled. "You're here to rid yourself of the sinful life you led before. This is where it begins." She gave Hilda a sharp look as she stood. "And you won't go filling her mind with her seditious nonsense. Food will be sent up to you, and Sister Philomena will be in to look at the pair of you soon enough." She stalked out of the room, heavy skirts trailing behind her.
Hilda turned toward her once Sister Columba was safely out of earshot. "Sister Philomena's not so bad. Sister Columba... she's mean, but mostly just talk. It's Sister Pelagia you really have to watch out for. And be careful what you say around Faith; she tells the sisters everything."
They were in the infirmary for about three more days. Sister Philomena turned out to be a taciturn woman with gentle hands who checked in on them every day for a cursory examination. Merope tried to hide her shock when she caught a glimpse of the mottled bruises on Hilda's legs. At the uncomfortable way Hilda turned away, Merope knew not to ask.
A mousy girl with unevenly braided hair brought them food twice a day; a flavourless, watery gruel and a small glass of milk. She'd been startled the first time she saw Merope awake, although she must have known or she wouldn't have two trays.
"She's quiet like you, Catherine," Hilda had said with a cheerful grin. "Don't worry, Melanie. Catherine's all right. Doesn't say much, but then neither do you, so you should get on like a house on fire."
"Is it true?" Catherine asked nervously. "Sister Columba said that when she was fevered, instead of raving and yelling, she only hissed." She looked down when she handed Merope her tray.
"Hissed like a balloon with a slow leak." Shaking her head, Hilda laughed. "That woman could make the phases of the moon sound sinister. Given the state Melanie was in when they brought her in, the poor girl's throat was probably too sore for much else."
Merope blinked. "How... how long have I been here?"
Surprisingly, it was Catherine who answered, although she still looked timid, almost flinching. "About a week." Her voice was soft, almost a monotone. "I saw them. The doctor came, when they brought you. Doctor said..." She glanced at Hilda, as if for permission. "Doctor said you wouldn't last the night. You were white as paper. Sister Philomena had Adelaide and I feeding you broth with a sponge... well, Adelaide and I, until..."
"Until I made my brave but futile escape attempt and she couldn't be spared, right?" Hilda's smile was forced, half a wince.
"Escape? Are we... we're not prisoners, are we?" Merope looked from Catherine to Hilda and back, bewildered.
"Not technically. Not legally." Hilda's eyes narrowed. "If you've family to come fetch you, well..." She shrugged. "If not, if you've nowhere to go... well, even if you do get out, they'll have you picked up for vagrancy, because you won't have anywhere to you, will you?" Her face grew angrier, wilder, but her voice was flat and empty. With her stubbled head and white nightgown, she certainly looked like a prisoner.
A few days later, Sister Philomena pronounced them 'well enough', and they were lead into the dormitories. Hilda, still limping slightly, kept her head down and expression blank. Merope bowed her head in imitation, but took cautious peeks around. The same words were carved over every doorway--
Saint Thaïs, lead all sinners to the path of penance and peace. Amen.
Or read it on My Skyehawke Page
TBC in Merope Hid Her Face For Shame: This Heartless Place
Author/Artist: Atalanta Pendragonne (atalantapendrag)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s)/character(s): Merope Gaunt, various OCs
Summary: Merope finds the Saint Thaïs Refuge to be anything but a sanctuary.
Warnings: Institutionalized cruelty. Follows And Eve Was Weak
I Knew I Was Not Bound For Heaven
In a Magdalen asylum with my penitent's dress
and my baby bouncing on no-body's knee
My eternal happiness would depend upon
how well I could renounce nature's ways
I could never speak my name
all my work would deepen shame
and I'd never be acceptable again
Maighread Medbh, "The Price That Love Denied"
It was cold, and a woman was crying. The blanket pulled over her was coarse and scratchy. Merope stirred fitfully, trying to remember where she was and why. She'd been... ill? She had vague memories of being made to sit up and swallow mouthfuls of thin, flavourless gruel. People coming and going, hushed conversations; hadn't she heard screaming at one point? Or had it been her own screams? She sat up carefully, trying to figure out why she was so stiff and sore.
The thin crying from across the room broke off in an abrupt gasp, and a whisper. "You're awake. They didn't think you'd wake. Didn't think... oh, I shouldn't be saying that sort of thing!" Looking over at her, Merope noticed with surprise that the young woman's hair had been shorn to the very skin, and none too gently either; dried blood was crusted over several long scratches. "I'm..." She looked down, seeming almost ashamed. "I'm called Hilda." She gave Merope a nervous smile, keeping her voice low. "Everyone's been curious about you. They never tell us anything. All anyone knows is--" She shut her mouth with a near-audible snap, gaze dropping. "Saint Thaïs, lead all sinners to the path of penance and peace," she said hastily.
"Amen. Gossiping already, Hilda?" Merope looked up at the new speaker. Another woman, this one in some sort of heavy robes with a stiff headdress, and there was something in her smile that made Merope uneasy.
"No, Sister Columba." There was a faint tremor in Hilda's voice.
"Good. I would hate to think you'd require further correction so soon, or that you'd try to spread your wickedness to our newest arrival." She walked toward Merope, assessing her coldly as she sat on the edge of the bed. "You've been quite a bit of bother already. The doctor didn't think you'd last the night. Well," stepping to the very edge of the bed, she smiled complacently. "it only goes to show that a doctor isn't the highest authority, does it? Do you know where you are, girl?"
"I was... someone gave me an address..."
"You're at the Saint Thaïs Refuge, child. You seem to be recovering nicely, you should be able to start doing your proper work soon. You came to us on the feast day of St. Melania the Younger... you'll be Melanie among us." At Merope's confused expression, Sister Columba only smiled. "You're here to rid yourself of the sinful life you led before. This is where it begins." She gave Hilda a sharp look as she stood. "And you won't go filling her mind with her seditious nonsense. Food will be sent up to you, and Sister Philomena will be in to look at the pair of you soon enough." She stalked out of the room, heavy skirts trailing behind her.
Hilda turned toward her once Sister Columba was safely out of earshot. "Sister Philomena's not so bad. Sister Columba... she's mean, but mostly just talk. It's Sister Pelagia you really have to watch out for. And be careful what you say around Faith; she tells the sisters everything."
They were in the infirmary for about three more days. Sister Philomena turned out to be a taciturn woman with gentle hands who checked in on them every day for a cursory examination. Merope tried to hide her shock when she caught a glimpse of the mottled bruises on Hilda's legs. At the uncomfortable way Hilda turned away, Merope knew not to ask.
A mousy girl with unevenly braided hair brought them food twice a day; a flavourless, watery gruel and a small glass of milk. She'd been startled the first time she saw Merope awake, although she must have known or she wouldn't have two trays.
"She's quiet like you, Catherine," Hilda had said with a cheerful grin. "Don't worry, Melanie. Catherine's all right. Doesn't say much, but then neither do you, so you should get on like a house on fire."
"Is it true?" Catherine asked nervously. "Sister Columba said that when she was fevered, instead of raving and yelling, she only hissed." She looked down when she handed Merope her tray.
"Hissed like a balloon with a slow leak." Shaking her head, Hilda laughed. "That woman could make the phases of the moon sound sinister. Given the state Melanie was in when they brought her in, the poor girl's throat was probably too sore for much else."
Merope blinked. "How... how long have I been here?"
Surprisingly, it was Catherine who answered, although she still looked timid, almost flinching. "About a week." Her voice was soft, almost a monotone. "I saw them. The doctor came, when they brought you. Doctor said..." She glanced at Hilda, as if for permission. "Doctor said you wouldn't last the night. You were white as paper. Sister Philomena had Adelaide and I feeding you broth with a sponge... well, Adelaide and I, until..."
"Until I made my brave but futile escape attempt and she couldn't be spared, right?" Hilda's smile was forced, half a wince.
"Escape? Are we... we're not prisoners, are we?" Merope looked from Catherine to Hilda and back, bewildered.
"Not technically. Not legally." Hilda's eyes narrowed. "If you've family to come fetch you, well..." She shrugged. "If not, if you've nowhere to go... well, even if you do get out, they'll have you picked up for vagrancy, because you won't have anywhere to you, will you?" Her face grew angrier, wilder, but her voice was flat and empty. With her stubbled head and white nightgown, she certainly looked like a prisoner.
A few days later, Sister Philomena pronounced them 'well enough', and they were lead into the dormitories. Hilda, still limping slightly, kept her head down and expression blank. Merope bowed her head in imitation, but took cautious peeks around. The same words were carved over every doorway--
Saint Thaïs, lead all sinners to the path of penance and peace. Amen.
Or read it on My Skyehawke Page
TBC in Merope Hid Her Face For Shame: This Heartless Place