Shades of Jealousy

Shades of Jealousy

With eyes the purple of storm clouds, she watches from her hiding place while her lovemate holds another maiden in his arms. He is seated at a bench under blooming trees, and she is seated in his lap, almost like a child might be. She is not young, of course, but she is youthful, with her big, sky-blue eyes, her cloud of golden curls, not to mention her incessant giggling. She is wearing a blue dress that barely covers her pale limbs with its gossamer sheen.

The watcher in the shadows can watch no more, as a storm of jealousy rages through her. Her eyes stay dry, but in her soul, the dark clouds turn to incessant rain. He is mine, her tortured spirit keens, mine and mine alone! I know he never said so - I thought he didn't need to! I thought it was sure as set in stone!

With eyes green as strangleweed, she watches from the edge of the gathering. There is a celebration going on, but she does not feel like taking part. The golden-haired maiden – Deereen by name – is dancing, and all eyes are on her – all eyes but a pair of green ones. Their owner looks at her lovemate, trying to remember a time he looked at her this fondly.

She turns away and walks into the shadows, the rhythm of the music in her ears, while the strangleweed of jealousy grips her heart tight. How can he look at another so, when I am his? Am I not enough?

With eyes yellow like a flickering flame, she watches from the shadows while he walks Deereen through the long, dusty corridors of their mountain home. She speaks and he leans over and listens, though her talk is mindless chatter, childish stories of the world outside, told by one who can barely remember it. Surely he cannot find such talk entertaining?

She closes her eyes, and leans against the cold stone wall. Her soul is burning with the wrath of jealousy. I alone am worthy of him! I alone am his equal!

With eyes the gray of the ice in wintertime, she stands in the Chamber of the Egg, and looks at the changing patterns, immersing herself in their twists and turns to discover the truth. There is Voll, and there is herself, and there is another slim tendril of stone twisting around him, plain as day. A weak weed that cannot stand on its own but drinks the life of another. An empty vessel, asking to be filled with another's love and caring.

She looks longer still, and jealousy chills the very core of her being. She must end this, before it ends her. Voll, my love, my own true love, how can you turn away from my embrace? Why are your dreams full of golden-haired maidens dancing through the air? Would you love me better if I turned my hair golden, too? Would you dance with me, if I too could glide?

With eyes black like the darkest night, she walks into his chamber in the hours before sunrise. As she has expected, they are both there, asleep in each other's arms. Lovemates. It has come to this, it has gone too far.

Winnowill looks at her reflection in the tall silver mirror on the wall. The darkness of jealousy wipes away the last shreds of hesitation and the soft, suppressed whispers of her conscience. Only one of us can rule his heart, only one of us is suited to stand in his shadow and make him strong. And it will not be you, gentle Deereen.

With eyes red like blood, she works her dark magic. When Voll and everyone else wakes up, they will find Deereen enthroned, stone-like, reigning over the new magical entrance to and from Blue Mountain. For a while Voll will feel that something is missing, but his memory has been carefully tampered with, and he cannot put a name to his longing. Night by night, Winnowill walks in his dreams, and wipes away any memory that offends her. Her shadow power sneaks into the dreams of others, too, until no one remembers there was a maiden called Deereen. She is Door, now.

The red blood of jealousy still flows in Winnowill's veins. Never again will another steal my rightful place! I must have all control. It is the only way.

She puts on a sheer blue dress. She makes herself shorter and golden-haired. She changes her face, she turns her eyes blue as the sky.

Let him have his secret pleasures, if he is so fond of them! For one who can change the color of her eyes in a blink, and the dreams of another in the space between heartbeats, it is barely a challenge at all.

She waits for him under the blooming trees, which are shaped of shining metal, and decorated with jewelled blossoms that never fade.

She allows herself a small smile. This charade could even be amusing!

– END -

Note: the name of this story is NOT a reference to 'Fifty Shades of Grey'. It is a reference to the 'Wolfrider's Reflections' song called 'Shades of Shadow', which is about Winnowill, and inspired me to write this story – especially the line ”She who sought my rule before – I was stronger, she is Door”.

As to Winnowill's color-changing eyes, I don't think it's written anywhere that she does that, but the variations shown in differed colored images of her seem to suggest this is the case. Plus of course she has the magic for that and more.

Wonderful story, Leanan!

Fascinating tale, Leanan! *bows* I can so see Winnowill react like this ... can see it happen.

And if I could find a metaphor for "rain" in this story ... it would be a perfect contribution for the May grab bag. Please tell me these clouds count for rain and throw it in the grab-bag!

I vote for it counts too!

I wrote a grab-bag fanfic by accident? I wasn't aware of the elements listed at all!

Thanks for the feedback. After I posted this yesterday I wasn't even sure if I myself like it, let alone anyone else.

I also like writing about Winnowill as if she has the power to change her eye color! I dig this story, your method of changing her eyes as each new scene shifts and your inspiration about Door being a rival displaced.
--NS

Well done, Leanan! Very evocative. I really like the treatment of eye color in this; it fits well. Her eyes to seem to change color in the series.

Thanks!

I've edited the second paragraph to have an actual mention of rain. Suitable for the grab bag now?

Very much so!

What a subtly revision. Rain could not fit in more naturally. Self evidently ... as if it was planned this way from the beginning. There is blooming and storm, metamorphosis and a new beginning.

Really thought you were inspired by the grab-bag elements, Leanan. A grab-bag entry written by accident ... now that's NEW!

I'm as surprised as you are. I have been avoiding the grab-bag topics because that kind of challenges never seem to inspire me.

Very well done, Leanan! I alway love reading about Winnie's hidden depths and changeability.

Oh, the eye color thing is officially mentioned in The Wolfrider's Guide...

Winnowill almost always wore black robes, flowing down almost as long as her thick black hair. Her only adornments were white feathers and a bit of white fur. Her skin was alabaster, her eyes narrow and changeable in color.

Not sure how I missed this until it landed in the grab bag - but I commented there:
https://fathertreeholt.forumotion.com/t194p60-may-grab-bag-stories-poetry-art-etc#7018

Thanks!

Multimedea wrote:

Winnowill almost always wore black robes, flowing down almost as long as her thick black hair. Her only adornments were white feathers and a bit of white fur. Her skin was alabaster, her eyes narrow and changeable in color.

I must have read that sometime, because I've read the whole book. But it's been a while, so I'd forgotten. Thanks for the info!