"She wore her mind as a weapon, wielded her thoughts as a sword." 

Much of the tension amongst her family as they sat around the rickety table eating a hasty meal could be attributed to what Robyn believed to be her own musing and self-deprecating as she despaired over her own faults and secrets as that stemmed from the consequences of her father's actions.

It wasn't that they were defaults of her own, but rather a burden she couldn't quite shake as she sat surrounded by his guilt.

Still, she couldn't help but wish to speak up to get what she wanted, whether it be a public affair or private, Robyn wasn't quite sure how they were going to take to her having blatantly gone against their wishes, though she knew her father wouldn't have a place to disagree again, not in the presence of others, where she would not fear to manipulate him.

"Good Father, I was wondering if it is not time to welcome Alec and Jane back into your sermon," she ventured, speaking as though it was something as simple as flowers or the like.

Rodick chokes on his meal, coughing loudly and her mother jumps up to flutter nervously around him, patting his back. She doesn't turn to him as she set's her gaze on her Father. He lowers his spoon slowly, placing it neatly at the side of his bowl, templing his fingers and resting his chin upon them.

"Evil may possess many shapes, dear daughter, and the faces of the devil present themselves in even the most innocent of disguises," he speaks with this knowing righteousness that she nearly rolls her eyes at.

"Is evil something you are? Or is it something you do?" She levels him with a look. "No one has ever seen the twins do anything of the sort. They are feared for something they have never done."

"This is not a subject to discuss during mealtime."

"You say that for all things! If it is not spoken of now, then it will not be spoken of at all," Robyn presses, a snarl pulls at her lips. "If you dismiss this now then I will not be permitted to bring it up again!"

"Silence! I have had enough of this talk of devil children and I warn you to keep a hold on your tongue lest you loose another word. I have had enough of your insolence, daughter."

The righteousness of his position a lots him the skill and command to speak easy as he wishes. Her Father was a fierce man with the power of the devil and his silver tongue to aid in his speech, but Robyn was not scared of a man of sin hiding beneath the pretense of Godliness. A preacher, a man of the Lord who has lost their way is not one that she can hold much faith in. He is one tainted, but he is one that their neighbours will follow blindly. If he could only see what she wanted, see how she need things to be, then it would be infinitely better for the twins, for Alec.

If he was treated better, then perhaps he would be more willing to be with her in the end.

For her affections were more than just a passing fancy, they were feeling she had harboured in her heart since she was little, holding them dear to her heart, but had never found the courage to speak on them. Now she had, now she knew what she wanted and would not be willing to abandon her resolve unless he turned her away.

"What you call insolence is only the truth you are to blind to see father! I fear not your punishment when blindness can be corrected with a little guidance to the light," she shouts, pushing to stand to her feet and rounds on him with a challenging stare. Her feelings were there in her eyes, the recklessness that she would be so willing to snatch and ruin all of their lives.

Father would lose his place as head of the church, he would be shamed in the eyes of their village -- outcasts and ostracized. Part of her yearned to do it, to destroy everything around her so that she might see the colours of flames, that she might see the life that sparked up around them bright and real instead of the dreary, dull experience that they were cursed to be. 

Movement holds her tongue, Rodick shifting in his seat, ready to defend their father against her harsh words and accusations -- his unmoving face against her blatant disobedience --  causes her to draw a deep breath, holding herself against further lapses of propriety. 

"I am finished with my meal," she announces. "I will be heading to the church to pray. Please excuse me." 

Robyn leaves no place for argument as she departs, roughly grabbing a nearby shall that was hung from the back of the door on her way out. 

The cool air nipped at her skin and she wrapped herself uptight, holding herself still and together with arms around her middle

When she was younger, much younger, the adults around her then would barely spare themselves to whisper about the brightness of her hair, of the shocking colour that it was for it was brighter than Rodick's had been at that age. They enjoyed their little gossip in wondering where the colour so bright had come form, demanding to know if it was the colour of the devil. 

Now, Robyn knew that it would never be her mother that fell to the sin of adultery but it was a true threat over her head then -- a worry that she couldn't explain. 

It had been a worry to her only a few times in her life when she watched people turn to her at odd points, a weight on their shoulder and guilty tears welling in dull eyes about sins that she had not known, that she had not asked for, and Robyn wondered if it was her that was compelling them to spill all of their secrets with the will of the war. 

She was aware now that it was often her inviting eyes and passive expressions that she wore in town that lead them to spill their hearts to her because she was the daughter of the priest -- someone that was perceived to be close to the Lord due to her relations, or perhaps, it was her ability to see through a person so easily, to appear as if she already knew that brought them to defend themselves. 

Robyn was, of course, foolish then because those beliefs were unfounded. Her Father was the sinner, the adulter, not mother. 

But then there magnificent home within the village had burnt down at the end of last summer, ruining the prime opportunity to rebuild as winters were harsh and cold and people were to busy trying to survive then to rebuild. 

It had burst aflame in the fit of her temper, blowing smoke high as she whispered angrily to her Father about the accumulation of his misdeeds. It had been the first and only time that she had caught him with someone that wasn't the dark-haired woman (who will continue and remain the dark-haired woman forever in her eyes despite knowing her name).

There were few times that she believed her father was truly the devil. 

Robyn still thoughts those fears were founded at times when she thought of her Father. 

He was a terror and a fiend and she wished that his church would burn with him and his sins within. 

Drawing in another breath, she releases it after a moment, forcing herself to calm down some. 

It was not as though she was not without faults, without mistakes and sins, but at least she was willing to own up to them, willing to make up for the wrongs that she had committed. 

The day that she had abandoned him, abandoned them, was the day that she became nothing more than the puppet that her Father wished to turn her into, the perfect daughter that held nothing within that he could parade around the village with pride. 

There was still pride in her every step, still pride when they walked side by side, but that was because she was a strong woman, a clever woman, and she was not easy bent by the will of others, not easily corrupted -- no, Robyn was the only one that was cable of spreading misdeeds and darkness within her own soul. 

It had started then with odd stares and cautious whispers. They claimed that the twins weren't quite right, weren't quite normal. 

They said that they were witches. 

Robyn could remember the first time that it was spoken to their faces, the utter destruction that has spasmed across their features -- there one moment and gone in the next. Jane's lips had parted, eyes blowing wide before she had burned brighter than Robyn's hair with rage at the insulting slur. Alec had flinched, growing incredibly quiet, before the usual brightness in his eyes had shuddered into nothing, fading away until her heart pinched with pain for him. 

She had stood then, hurling insults and accusations and scriptures at the transgressors (boys that followed her around with hope and love held in the palm of their hands with their hearts that they presented to her) until they were reduced to tears.

Jane had decided they deserved worse than that and came at them with a rock as Alec stood still.

Robyn, a young girl driven with the need to protect the boy that had stolen already stolen her heart, had thrown herself forward with a fist as they approached the frozen boy. 

She was discovered by Rodick and her Father as they were being scolded and welted by the eldery teacher and the mayor. 

That night she was told not to speak to them ever again, that the witch twins would place her under a spell, and though she curled with rage and anger at the insult to them, on their behalf, she had agreed with the firm scolding of her Father and the punishment of prayers that she was to recited over and over until her knees were numb, forehead bruised, and tongue turned to lead. 

Her steps slow as she stops before the church. Had this been holier ground of a different religion, her Father would not have children and woudl dwell within, but now, in such a small town, they left the doors unlocked and valuables locked away within a hidden safe of her Father's office. 

Reluctantly, she climbs the few stairs and enters through the creaking door, seating herself in the nearest chair as she gazed emptily at the cross that loomed across from her, illuminated by thin strips of fading light and unattended melting candles. 

She ought to recite a prayer, she figure, cleanse her soul or the nearest thing to it. 

The thought brought a humoured smile to her lips and a barely held chuckle. What was the point of asking forgiveness when she felt no guilt over her actions? How stupid was it that no one was allowed to stand to her Father, that no woman was allowed to stand to a man without fear of repercussion, without fear of being struck. 

It made her insides twist. 

Really, all Robyn wanted, all she truly wanted, was to prove to Alec that he was worthy of love, that he was worthy of her love. He thought himself a monster over things that he had not done, over things that others accused him of being. 

If only he could see, if everyone could see, perhaps the light would filter through once more, perhaps he would be willing to accept her affections, her adorations, that she was more than willing to bestow onto him. 

She ought to have done something that day, ought to have learnt to stand her ground sooner. 

Robyn thinks of that fateful day quite often, thinks of the weight of her sins and how they weigh upon her with the force of the skies. 

If only people could see what she saw, if they could see the goodness and purity that dwelt within him. 

Her Father was the key to it all, she knew. They followed his steps, his words, more than they ever could the mayor, for he represented the Lord, represented the almight power. 

The door creaks, light pouring in behind her. Robyn doesn't move to investigate, stilling in her seat as though in preperation to defend herself. 

Boys were, unfortunately, awful creatures willing to capture her alone at any moment. Their pride would not lead them to lay a hand on her again, not after they had seen what she had done to one who had touched her shoulder uninvited after spunrning his advances. 

"Ah Robyn, you do not usually come so late in the evening." 

Her tension left to be replaced with a different type of preparedness. Oh, the battle of wits between clever women -- vicious ones at that -- was a dangerous thing to behold. 

The dark-haired woman was a lady full of sin and wit to challenge the Wicked One himself. 

"I am surprised to see you here as well," she says softly. "Father does not come in the evening. Those are the hours in which he pretends to be a devoted husband." 

The door closes, the light fading. The seat at the other side of the narrow aisle creaks. Her gaze does not turn from the cross. 

"I come often to speak with our Lord. I have expressed to my husband that I need a moment alone before God so that my prayers may ring clear and true." 

"And do you pray?"

"I do."

Robyn hums. "They say wicked things about those who pray in the dark." 

"There are things that we all which to hide from the light," she says. "I speak my prayers, my absolutions, where others are too afraid to admit their downfalls." 

She doesn't answer right away as the words swirl in her mind. "We are all sinners at heart. It is those that hide their secret shame that are judged at the end," Robyn says thoughtfully. "Those that have no pride are frightened of themselves. It is the way of the weak, I suppose." 

The woman laughs softly. "You have always been cleared sighted to the sins of others. You way them with such precision and ease, with blind justice, before you judge." 

"I am often faced with the desire to compare sins," she admits. 

"To rank their evil?" 

She shakes her head. "To see with my own eyes the pain they will face in their demise." 

It's silent a moment, a lone cricket plays it's song outside before more join, a cacophony of calming music plays with the setting, nearly alseep, sun. 

"Do you sentence me to damnation as well?" the dark-haired woman asks. "Is that what you see in your heart." 

She licks her lips. "I would like to say... I am not sure what it is that I would say. No for your strength and freedom, yes for the pain and suffering you cause. In the end, I suppose, it is your own guilt and regret that will shackle you. I am not to judge you, only you are to judge yourself, Temptress." 

"Is that not the place of the Lord our God? To Judge me?"

Robyn stand, brushing out her judge briefly before she tugs uncomfortably at the collar of her shirt. "God cannot spare you from the judgement that you pass upon yourself. You will forever shoulder that pain." 

She finally looks at her, eyeing her clasped hands and firmly closed eyes. Her dark hair was held back in a thick braid and flour mussed her dress, coating her sleeves. 

"You speak so insightfully for someone so young. Perhaps you are the witch," she teases. 

Her heart thuds, rage pounding in her ears. "Perhaps. Perhaps you are a demon succubus and your children hellish offspring." 

Laughter dies on her lips in a moment. "I apologize. That was not a gest well in light of the situation." 

"No, it was not," Robyn snaps. "A situation that you... a situation that you are actually in the perfect position to change for me, if you were so inclined." 

"Oh?" 

"You need only whisper, make light suggestions. I know that you have done so before," Robyn presses. "You would do well at this. You have done so before, I know." 

She opens her eyes, relaxing her hands. "You wish for Alec and Jane to be welcome in the church once more." 

"My Father has told you of my so-called whims then." 

"He has." 

"Then you shall help me?" 

The dark-haired woman smiles her way, alluring and inviting -- Temptress. "It is the least that I could do to try. I owe you for your silence, after all." 

Robyn finds herself smiling just as much in return, her lips rising in a pretty curl. "You owe me much more than that, though, this could be the start of a lovely... partnership." 

"There was a darkness in her, I can see that now, but it was the way she held it, used it, that made her shine brighter than any light I had ever before seen." 

°°°

Vote,
Comment,
& follow me on wattpad.

unedited 

written: 2020-07-31

posted: 2020-08-05