Maeve's existence had not been an accident. She had taken careful planning on her mother's part, and a certain amount of human ignorance on the part of her father's. Her mother who had admired her father from afar, had sought love potion to make him hers. It was under these conditions that, eventually, no doubt with some assistance from the human half of her conception, Maeve came into being. It was only then, after the child was born, her mother felt she could case the sue of the love potion, so that he could truly love his daughter. But he feared the magic the woman and child contained, and threatened his revenge for taking away his freedom. But, in the violet eyes of Maeve's mother, Maeve was a gift, as all children were to mothers, but even more so. Another fae had been brought into the world, one that was not created by ritual, but born fae. To her mother, Maeve was a sign that their species could not easily be brought to extinction. And so that is why she had named her Maeve. "Cause of great joy."
This is far too much responsibility placed on the shoulders of a nine year old little girl. Children should be concerning themselves with the present, asking questions like 'what type of flower smells better, tulips or roses?' 'Should i pick the purple lollipop or the red?' They should not be questioning what has happened in the past, before they have been born, and nor should a child be fretting for the future, of what is to come. No child should bare this responsibility, but Maeve must do it all the same.
Maeve was a child after all, and she would certainly never turn down an opportunity for a cupcake. Happiness is truly a child holding sweets. She pictures then, standing in the kitchen in the ark, with a plate full of cupcakes. Inviting everyone to come and enjoy them, Mira, Raven, Tetra, Tobi, Alexis, Henry (though hopefully he would not be naked this time!), everyone! And Maeve would decorate each cupcake individually for each of her friends, maybe saving one decorated with flowers for herself.
His eyes of silver meet her own of lilac. They grow wide with his words, her shock and excitement clearly evident. "You know Tobi? He is like one of my best friends," she says chipperly. That Tobi was an adult male, and an adult male that has committed cruel acts before, is hardly relevant to the girl, he is her friend all the same and would forever remain so. "I like your accent, it is french," she says, proud of herself. Having studied ballet since before she can remember, she knows the way some of the words form in the language, there is familiarity within Matteo's accented words. "Tobi is fun, and he is so nice, he and Tetra saved me one time," she says, swinging legs underneath the table as if this were something that happened every day. She then smiles shyly at Matteo then, watching him carefully. "You don't seem boring," she say, still skeptical, but the impish smile on her face made her believe her assumption was correct.
She nods, tucking away the comment about learning to make cupcakes for later, saving it perhaps for a rainy day. That was the thing about children, they seemed to remember even the smallest of details, and never forget. "Like what?" She questions, tilting that pretty head, pieces of blonde hair tumbling sideways as she looks at the fae man. Maeve so entirely unaware of the shared vision, just realizing she had seen something before it had actually happened. She thinks maybe it is destiny, but Maeve is not entirely sure she truly understand what destiny is, let alone what her own is. She continues eating the cupcake, savoring the sweetness of each bite as Matteo continued speaking with her. Pip, at the mention of him, comes out and to her shoulder, where her hair manages to hide most of him from view when looking at her from the side. "He is my friend," she says with a smile as she turns her face slightly to attempt to kiss the tiny, white creature before he comes to rest in her lap quietly. Maeve has lots of friends it would seem.
Maeve feels that sense of fear fall over her in the form of a warm prickle against her skin. But she feel Matteo's hand fall upon her own and is comforted by the small action. Her own, small hand reaches grabs his for a moment, giving him just a tiny squeeze of her hand before she releases, a silent action to let him know she was here and she was listening. "Okay," she says, peering up at him with those lilac eyes peeking from beneath those dark lashes. "I don't want to hurt anyone," she says, admits. That would never be Maeve's intention. She would crumble should she actually cause anyone any sort of pain, emotional, mental, physical. Maeve could not bare such a thing.
She watches him, violet eyes following every movement, curious of what he was going to teach her today. He then suddenly holds a doll and...yarn? Maeve watches as he preps whatever it was he was going to show her. She has questions racing through her mind that she wants to ask, but Maeve knew there was a time for questions, but there was also a time for patience and watching to wait and see. She knew this time to be an example of the later. Maeve follows his finger then as he points to different areas of the thread. They are all connected and Maeve's nods in response. Matteo's use of visual aids and simple words, Maeve is able to comprehend and she nods along to show her understanding. "Yeah," she says in agreement, pointing to the 'past' area of the doll. "I have seen my friends as little kids like me," she says excitedly. She has seen glimpses so brief she is not sure she imagined it, of dark pasts of faces she believes she has never seen, but, most of the time, the vision did not last long enough to cause the child true harm.
Maeve sits back then in her chair, understanding the words Matteo speaks quite serious and hold importance. She nods then, the sincerity within her delicate features then incredibly striking for such a young girl. "I will," she says. "I will be the best secret keeper there is," she says with something like determination. He then offers her a lesson of sorts, which Maeve nods her head, eagerly agreeing to. "Yes, please," she says, smiling but that simper falters only slightly as a question is raised. "Can I tell people if I see them, in a vision?" She asks curious before she realizes she may need to clarify. "Can I tell them that I saw them when they were little?" She asks first, thinking this may be the easier of the questions. "And...can I tell someone...if I know something is going to happen to them...even if they don't know?" She asks. And now, it would seem, Maeve asks questions she may not be quite ready for the answers to.
Maeve Liliwenimage by Wang Xi