Hey, hey, hey

Since I'm gonna go to Hell anyway

I'll go out with a bang, bang, bang
Crash and burn it all away

Saffron was sure that the hardest part of coming back to Coldham, for any reason, was getting dressed for it. The majority of her clothes were not appropriate for tea with her brother. But she did know how to behave. She knew how to dress like the Lady that she was born to be. Did she like that culture? No. Did she respect it in her brother’s home? Yes. Or at least she tried to. Saffron did not wish to push her brother away simply because she believed what Mother taught her more than she believed what he had to say.

She was an adult. She was entitled to her own opinions, and her own choices. But she didn’t want to lose her brother over them. And so, she had always done her best to at least respect that culture when she was here. Did that mean that she was likely to find herself in a bar later, and bring home someone that she could turn upside down in the basement and drain the blood out of? Probably. She could only be a good girl for so long, and yet she continued to try. She continued to do her best by her brother.

And it had been several weeks since she had found the time to come over here for tea. Or at least a time when he hadn’t been busy. He was far busier than she was, and Saffron rather liked that. She was intrigued by the idea of getting a job. But she did not know what it was that her particular brand of talents would make her exceptionally good at. Coming here, it was not in any way her intention to discuss herself though. She wanted the details of her brother’s life. If there was one thing that she abhorred about Jarred’s relationship with Sorrel, it was that her sister seemed to know everything first.

If it would have been Beatrice that knew everything first, she could have dealt with it. But it wasn’t. It was Sorrel. And Sorrel might just have come in second place in a contest of who Saffron’s favorite sister was, even if Beatrice didn’t exist. That might have been harsh… But she truly did not understand her sister. If there was one thing that she did get, it was the desire to please Jarred. But even in that they were dissimilar. Saffron would not give up any part of who she was to please her brother. He could accept her for who she was, or he could turn her out. And so long as they didn’t bring up their religious preferences, they seemed to do just fine.

Catholicism was not Saffron’s idea of a good time. Did she still know the Lord’s Prayer? Yes. And her Hail Mary. And all of it. She had learned the same things that Sorrel had. But she had also read the bible. Cover to cover. There had been plenty of time in her life for such things, and she thought that it was either Exodus 22:18, or perhaps all of Leviticus 20 or Deuteronomy 22 when they blamed a woman for her own rape, and allowed her to be put to death simply for the fact that her husband didn’t like her.

There was far too much wrong with that for her to want anything to do with it. Sorrel could believe all she wanted, but the last thing that Saffron wanted was to be associated with anything like that. How her sister could claim to be a feminist while supporting all of that, she had no idea. She didn’t understand a good majority of it, and she wasn’t about to sit through a lesson on scripture to learn. Still, she was here, and it would have been abysmal of her to not at least tell her sister hello before she left.

She didn’t plan on staying more than a moment, but when she knocked on the door to the chapel, she was remotely curious if her sister’s God was going to send down some sort of jolt down to expel her and her sinful ways from the space. Her mothers, and the Dark Lord would never have believed that she was going into such a place, but it always seemed the best place to find her sister. Not caring whether or not she was praying, or if she even wanted company, she rolled her eyes just a little bit at the kneeling figure before her. “If I touch the Holy Water, is it going to burn me?”

@sorrel • 762 • saffron's outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

one day you'll hear this song

and understand that all along there's something more that i'm trying to say. oh, harry. oh, harry. why can't you see what you're doing to me.

When she sat down and thought about it, actually thought about the things that her Mother’s did, the things that her sister did it made her physically ill. She didn’t quite care for how fond they were of their ‘dark lord’ nor did she care for the damage that it was so obviously doing to their souls, bodies, and minds. She knew it was, so many people knew what they were but Sorrel refused to say it. The weakness of the flesh made them more likely to sin, it made them weak in all things that concerned the spirit and that was just not something Sorrel was willing to risk. Despite the things that she had seen and been taught most of her life, Sorrel fully knew her place and where she belonged.

She was not going to endanger her soul or her life by blindly following Avalon Blackwood into the darkness. She did not call Avalon anything other than this, but she knew her mother loved the woman. She had done what she was supposed to do and when Sorrel’s father died, she remarried. This was the image that Sorrel had been given, this was what she had been taught, and though she was innocent and pure it did not mean that she was a fool. Small eyes were the ones who saw things first, even if they did not always understand what was going on around them.

Weakness. That was all that it was. Sorrel saw no such weakness in herself. She did not allow the temptation to rule her. She was so much more than just a list of faults and failures, highs and lows. She knew that regardless of what they tried to feed her, The Dark Lord would never bring her the salvation that her faith did. Her heart belonged to God until she found it elsewhere. She was naive enough to believe that any match her brother made would bring her love, but she did not need it. At least, not now. She knew her duty and she loved her brother. He was the head of the family, he held her destiny in the palm of his hand, and until then she would do as she was told.

She had a choice, she could live any life that she wanted. She could be wild and free, she could live like so many other young women of her generation and give her love and her body to anyone, but that did not make it right, it did not make her anything more than the rest of them. She was chaste because she should be. She was sweet and subservient because she should be. But above all, she was strong in her convictions, because she could be. She made the choice to follow her brother. She made the choice to be like him. He was everything as the head of the family and he was good to her, so why should she not?

Nightly prayers and confession were not demanded by her brother, but she still did it. Prayers of attrition, admitting her sin, begging for forgiveness, praying for guidance. Their world was in constant chaos, but this made her feel like she could not just withstand it like she was strong enough for anything that came her way. She was a Rookwood, a Pure woman, a pureblood. She was a child of God, a woman of faith, a warrior of Christ. She was the storm. The devil could whisper all he wanted, he could take her mother, her sister, but one thing he would never have, was her.

This was not an easy choice, this was not something that did not come without its struggles, but she did everything, everything, for the glory of God. She knelt quietly, her mantilla draped over her head as she held her rosary in her hand and prayed quietly, she was on the final Our Father when the knock came at the door and instead of rising she finished and then said a quiet prayer for the guidance of her family before standing and removing the lace from her hair.

” Hello, Saffron. There is only one way to see, sister. Though I doubt it will, as mortals we all have a tendency towards sin, but something tells me you are not here to recant your ways and beg for forgiveness.” She said giving her sister a soft smile and then motioning for her to sit if she liked and, tucking her skirt and crossing her ankles, she did so herself.

tag: @saffron words: 762 template by eliza @ tb & thq