I love you enough to punish you, as a mother should.
[She sighs, toying with her prayer beads.]
As you won't listen to me, say that you will not accept due punishment from your dominant, I shall have to tell the city. I imagine your second offense at insulting a Dominant will result in prison.
No - no, but she insulted me. She called me stupid. She said my insides were rotten and I should mix with a donkey’s ass or a rat. It was only spit. It isn’t a prison sentence. Mama, no. You’d have me arrested? For spitting? Mama, no. Please no.
That isn't what I would do, but you say you don't want to be my submissive. So it will be the city that decides the punishment. A second offense could well bring a harsher punishment.
[Eponine scowls. She goes to the corner but she very deliberately moves the stool out of the way so she can stand, leaning her back against the walls.]
[She would be there for a few hours, but Kosem's silence and lack of acknowledgment continues as well. Once done with accounts, she makes herself some lunch, accompanied by a bit of wine. There was a book she wanted to read as well.
[Eponine glares and then let’s go of the glass in her hand. If it’s glass, it’ll surely shatter. Luckily for Kosem, Eponine hadn’t quite got round to pouring the wine yet. She stomps back to the corner and sits down grumpily.]
[The glass stays on the floor, showing that act of defiance doesn't get glance, not even a flinch. Anything Eponine did or said, she didn't see or hear. She was a shadow in this flat.
Another hour, leaving her to sit in the corner without acknowledgement.]
[In the end, Eponine sits hunched in the corner. Her knees are drawn up to her chest and her head is bent, pressing into her knees. She doesn’t look up, doesn’t fidget, doesn’t react.
[When Eponine looks up, her expression is glassy. Silently, she bends to pick up the glass, sucking her finger when it cuts her. She doesn’t complain. She just does as she’s told. She doesn’t reach for any food but just stands quietly, hands twisting and her gaze firmly on the floor. ]
[The pose is penitent, what she was looking for. She had dealt so long with Osman, aggression, threats and cold rage had been her natural response. That wasn't needed with Eponine. Now she understood better and the next time would be easier.
She saw to the cut, dabbing her finger with a wet cloth before putting a band-aid on it (apparently these were something to use.)]
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[She sighs, toying with her prayer beads.]
As you won't listen to me, say that you will not accept due punishment from your dominant, I shall have to tell the city. I imagine your second offense at insulting a Dominant will result in prison.
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No - no, but she insulted me. She called me stupid. She said my insides were rotten and I should mix with a donkey’s ass or a rat. It was only spit. It isn’t a prison sentence. Mama, no. You’d have me arrested? For spitting? Mama, no. Please no.
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Unless you would rather come home?
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It’s not fair, you know?
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This isn't how to face them. You can be strong, refined, and quick. They will not insult you then.
Are you coming home?
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It’s not fair
[Hot, angry tears bead at the corners of Eponine’s eyes.]
Fine.
[It takes her an hour but she comes. She lets herself into Kosem’s apartment and leans against the chair, hiking her skirt up to show her bottom.]
Just do it. Get it over with.
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Her voice is soft and dismissive.]
Go sit in the corner.
[There was a stool for her, low to the ground.]
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Slowly she lowers her skirt and stands straight.
With a sigh, she hesitantly goes to the stool and sits down.]
What’s happening?
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Once she has finished her prayer, picks up the writing desk next to her and begins to manage her accounts.
This is far more important.]
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[Eponine watches her for a while. Then she gets up and goes over to her.]
What’s happening, Madame?
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[That was all she'd say. She doesn't look up or answer her question.
Only those three words.]
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This is stupid
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[Again, no comment. Not a look, not a true acknowledgement.]
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All things that did not involve Eponine.]
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Madame?
[She goes to help herself to a glass of wine]
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Sit in the corner.
[The book was clearly fascinating. Why else was she not looking at Eponine or paying attention to her?]
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She stomps back to the corner and sits down grumpily.]
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Another hour, leaving her to sit in the corner without acknowledgement.]
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You may get up now. Have some supper, but first clean up the glass.
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She saw to the cut, dabbing her finger with a wet cloth before putting a band-aid on it (apparently these were something to use.)]
Come on. I'll get you some fruit and cheese.
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[She’s quiet, subdued.]
I want to go home.
[Eponine hates being ignored. She’d take a beating, smacks, insults, punches over being ignored any day.]
I feel like a ghost. I want to go home.
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