Talespinning Tuesday - Shard

           I hate to do this to you but I'm changing the script! I'm going to start showing pieces of Shard, another of my works in progress... It is the story of Elsa and how she tried to find her way back. I'll let you tell me which ones you want me to tell. I'll be setting up a poll on my Facebook page.

She slowly emerged from sleep, the sunlight slipping past her eyelids, clearing her mind of all traces of dream. Feeling the warmth on her face,a smile spread. This was exactly how she loved to wake up. She luxuriated in the feeling as she stretched and finally opened her eyes. Delightedly sniffing the air, the cozy scent of butterscotch sticky buns greeted her nostrils. She gave a sideways glance at the side table where a platter of four of little treasures waited patiently for her attention.
She grinned mischievously at the thought of being so sinfully indulgent. Such excesses of sugary gratification had been the sole province of her grandmother. When she would visit, her nana would always secret a plate of candied pastries for her little Elsa’s delight. Elsa delicately took a pastry from the plate with a dainty hand, her nails painted an evocative ruby shade. She wiggled her similarly painted toes in anticipation, still securely sheathed in the friendly warmth of her comforter. She brought the confection slowly up to her crimson lips that stood in sharp contrast to her alabaster skin. She abandoned herself within the moment of the first bite, time stretching to accommodate her in her decadence.
Time snapped back, reinserting itself upon her reality. She always found herself a little forlorn with the ending of the first bite, it was always the best. She brightened, though, when her vivid green eyes caught sight of the platter and the three remaining first bites she had yet to embark upon. She licked almost sensually at the corners of her mouth, clearing away the refugee crumbs that had retreated there. She giggled to herself as one errant crumb made a tumbling descent to nestle in the valley of her breasts. She scooped it up with one finger, clicking her tongue at it in admonishment then greedily sucking her finger clean. She moved on to her second bite and before she knew it the sweetmeat had met its end. She looked at her empty hand in surprise but smiled at the pleasant heat that filled her stomach.
She decided for a moment to put off the consumption of her little joys aside. She swung her legs from beneath the covers, the folds of her baby-blue nightgown making a silken whisper. Her little feet scrambled at the floor, searching for her fuzzy slippers. She sighed contentedly as her feet slipped home into the snuggling, tender warmth. She stood from her bed, letting her gaze take in her room. Beyond her nightstand, next to floor to ceiling window that sunlight raced through, was her modest vanity table full of the many little mysteries with which many woman plied themselves. Her eyes fell upon the fireplace, mere cinders now, the fire no longer needed with the coming of the dawn. Above it a great painting of a large oak tree with a swing and a boy and girl laughing and playing under its boughs. Her eyes quickly darted past the darkened corner next to…
“Hey, don’t want to look over here, do ya?” a clipped voice said.
Elsa quickly took her seat in front of the vanity and grabbed up her brush, holding it before her like a sword to repel the unwanted words. She shut her eyes, as if depriving herself of sight she would also shut herself away from the intruding noise.

“Come on, Elsa, do we really need to do this?” the bored voice said, its tone giving off the merest hing of annoyance. “You try to ignore me while I sputter and moan like some half remembered phantasm of your past. We can do that, but you’re just wasting time.”
Elsa began running the brush through her satiny golden strands. Her face scrunched in discomfiture and pain in her second stroke of the brush as she hit a snarl of hair. Her eyes flew open involuntarily and she saw the unwelcome woman reflected in the mirror. She was statuesque, even bent over as she was at Elsa’s shoulder. She wore an open black leather vest over a simple bra and her skin was the same milky complexion as Elsa’s. She wore a pair of micro skirt from which fishnet stockings descended until they meet glossy leather knee high boots. Her face was framed by her midnight hair done in a pageboy haircut. She had kabuki make up on, accentuating her eyes and brows. Two dark midnight teardrops were painted on her cheeks underneath her eyes. A single ruby tantalized the eyes and drew them to her cleavage.
“Why do you trouble me so, you wanton woman!?!” Elsa cried.
“Well, that makes two of us or one of us depending on your perspective,” the woman said, smiling mysteriously, “but it’s because you need to come back. You’re needed,” the lascivious woman replied simply.
“You’re not wanted! You’re not needed. Begone! Leave me to myself,” Elsa alternated between yelling and pleading with the other woman. The knuckles on her fine hand showed red as she slammed it one the table. She looked down in contrition at the unexpected display of her ire.
“Come now, Elsa dear, that is no way to be,” the seductive woman said coyly, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She sashayed across the room until she was directly behind Elsa, her hips beating time like a living metronome. Elsa started when the lascivious woman lightly laid her hands on her shoulders. Elsa felt the woman’s breath caress her ear as the woman began sensually kneading her shoulders. Elsa felt her cares and worries melt under the provocative ministrations of the other’s touch. “We used to have such times, you and I,” the seductress purred into her ear, startling Elsa when she gave it a little nibble, “Even if you can’t remember.” Elsa felt momentarily lost to the sensation.
     Another’s touch.
     A man’s hand brushes her cheek lightly.
    Another’s touch.
The sweet taste of caramel, as their lips meet, both giggling, both in the moment, both with each other.
Tears flowed from Elsa, running a river path down her face until finally making the jump from her chin. Each tear hit the vanity with a tinkling sound, crashing upon the table as diamonds that refracted the light in a thousand rainbow hues. Elsa looked up from her tears, her face a mask of rage, “I reject you and your need! They have nothing to do with me. I name you Trouble and cast you from my life.”
“You can call me what you wish, Elsa,” Trouble said, “I’ll be back. So will the others.” The woman seemed to be losing focus, her form fading. Elsa looked at the fading form in satisfaction. The woman returned the triumphant smile with a sad one of her own. “Look, little Elsa,” the woman said, tapping almost inaudibly on the mirror with a single black nail, “Your mirror is starting to crack. You better shore it up before reality creeps in through that hole.”
Elsa gasped in horror, looking at the tiniest crack upon her vanity mirror. Like the first bite, the time of its perfection had passed.
Before she faded completely from view, the other woman whispered, “You know, we loved him too, Elsa.” Then she was gone.

Elsa sat before the now marred mirror and for a moment dove beyond the surface, past the mask and beheld once more the tragedy underneath. She felt the bottom open up as she was swallowed once more by the anguish of the past.

Elsa started as she found herself staring at her reflection in the mirror. She smiled to her mirror twin and the day became almost noticeably brighter. She wondered for a moment what she had been doing then shrugged it off and picked up her brush. The sun warmed her face as she brushed her luxurious golden hair.