She was an obedient Oracle as her beloved doctor placed her in the chair set before his grandiose desk, his blonde-haired bright toy.  Her hand was captive in his, her eyes wide and rapt with attention as he explained what would happen.  A stone table.  Yes, that would be the perfect contrast.  Hard and unyielding stone to contrast with the softness of her beauty. It would be perfect.<br/><br/>Just as her eyes began to close to envision the ritual, a hand landed on her shoulder, drawing her from her thoughts.  Her brow furrowed as Kell voiced his concerns with the ritual, his words causing Jarek to release her hand and move to put the desk between them.<br/><br/>Unsure of what to do or say, Charlotte began to shrink into herself, the one thing that had served her well for so many years.<br/><br/>Shrink away, little violet.  Don’t let them notice you.  If they notice you, they will hurt you. Or will you hurt them? Yes,<i>you</i>will hurt<i>them</i>.<br/><br/>Downcast eyes  lifted at the gentle caress of her cheek, his fingers wiping away the last vestiges of John’s lips.  With a soft sigh, she tipped her face into the son’s hand, her eyes meeting his.<br/><br/>We like that his eyes are black. He looks like he's strong.<br/><br/>She did like that his eyes were black.  He was strong; she could feel it in the simplest touches.  Kell was the one who would always keep her safe, he was the one who would treat her best.  He was the one who knew how to make the ritual superior to anything else.  Charlotte was lost in his eyes, lost in him.<br/><br/>The bang of the fist on the desk caused the magic between the young couple to dissipate into thin air.  Blood rushed to color her pale cheeks most becomingly as she pulled away from the son.  Blood suited her; it always had.<br/><br/>It was blood that had painted her skin in pretty designs the night they’d discovered what she’d done to her mother.  It was blood that had driven her to attack the doctors that hurt her.  It was blood that had driven her to hurt herself so she could see the pretty red trickle along her pale skin.  It was the blood that made her<i>beautiful</i>.<br/><br/>It was the blood that made Raker’s whispers so alluring.<br/><br/>It was Raker that told her to trust the father.<br/><br/>It was Raker who was telling her to trust the son.<br/><br/>It was the son who was pushing for the ritual to be<i>more</i>.<br/><br/>She liked the look on his face as he was forced to leave the office.  She did not like the look on the father’s face as he made excuses for the son.  Strengthened by the feel of the gentle stroke of Kell’s hand against her soft skin, she questioned the doctor.  “Why can’t it be something more?  What if he’s right? What if it isn’t enough?”<br/><br/>Emboldened by the argument between father and son, Charlotte rose from the chair and moved away from Jarek towards the bookcase. Once more she ran her fingers along the books. Words gave her strength; Kell’s words gave her strength. Soon enough she would share her words with the people and they would love her so much more.<br/><br/>Fingers trailed along leather spines as she stepped towards the window. Fresh air and sunshine had been forbidden to her until the doctor found her. Those delicate fingers splayed against the glass as she stared out over the group’s land. It was wonderful here just like he had promised her.<br/><br/>Let the light hit your chest.<br/><br/>Jarek was the one who had pulled her into the light. Jarek was the one who loved her best. He was the one who had mended the broken doll and turned her into a bright toy.<br/><br/>A flash of pain danced across the pretty face as she turned away from the beauty outside the window. Green eyes widened and blinked back a tear. She had hurt him; she should not have disagreed with him. Charlotte rushed across the room and placed herself in the chair he had deemed was hers, the chair for the broken-now-bright doll.<br/><br/>“I should not have disagreed with you,” she spoke quietly with eyes aimed at her lap. “Perhaps I just need to rest.” Her eyes lifted slowly, fingers twisting around each other as they rested in her lap. She wanted so badly to ask if John could come see her but something kept her tongue still. It would not do to anger the father again.