TTW : Eleven Reflections (Patreon)

Upstairs, Esmerelda felt a wave of uncertainty wash over her. The familiar steps to their bedroom, once a path laden with intimacy and ease, now seemed like a journey through unfamiliar terrain. She couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place, of being someone entirely different yet desperately wanting to recapture the essence of Lydia and Thomas—the love, the connection, the effortless bond they once shared.

Thomas sensed her hesitation, his eyes searching hers for a clue to her inner turmoil. They stood at the threshold of their bedroom, a space that had witnessed their love and laughter, now hanging heavy with unspoken questions.

"Esmerelda?" Thomas's voice was soft, tinged with concern.

She hesitated, her new, older form feeling like a barrier between them. The memories of Lydia, so vibrant and full of life, contrasted sharply with her current reality. She wanted to bridge that gap, to feel the warmth and love they once shared, but doubt crept in, whispering that perhaps those days were forever lost.

She walked over to the antique mirror that hung in their bedroom. Staring at her older, changed form. Thomas stood behind her, so tall, so handsome, so young. She wasn't sure if it was the magical salon visit, or if it was all the changes that had happened in the last few…had it only been a week since they'd hiked up Mary's Peak?

Thomas reached out, his hand gently touching her arm. "Are you alright?" His voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present.

"I... I do not know, mon amour," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes, now clouded with the experiences of Esmerelda, looked into his, searching for the familiar spark of connection.

Thomas wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She could feel the strength in his embrace, the warmth of his body against hers. Yet, there was a hesitation in her response, a reluctance born from the unfamiliarity of her new form. She wanted to melt into him, to forget the complexities of her transformation, but the physical changes held her back, creating an invisible barrier.

"Let's just sit for a while," Thomas suggested, guiding her to the bed. They sat side by side, their hands tentatively finding each other's. The touch was familiar, yet different. Her hands, aged and transformed by the geas, felt foreign in his.

Thomas broke the silence, his voice steady yet full of emotion. "I miss Lydia, but I'm learning to understand Esmerelda. I know it's still you in there, somewhere. I just... I want to make sure you're still here with me."

Esmerelda's heart ached at his words. She longed to reassure him, to show him that she was still the woman he loved, despite the changes. But how could she communicate that when she felt so disconnected from herself?

"I'm here, Thomas," she said, her voice gaining strength. "I am still me, just... different. I am trying to find my way back to you, to us."

Thomas nodded, a look of resolve crossing his face. "Then let's find that way together. Whatever it takes."

For a moment, they sat in silence, each lost in their thoughts. The room, once a sanctuary of their love, now felt like a stage where a new act of their lives was about to begin. Esmerelda knew she had to let go of the past, to embrace her new reality if she was to find happiness again with Thomas.

Slowly, she leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. Thomas responded, his arm wrapping around her, drawing her closer. In that embrace, they found a glimmer of hope, a hint of the familiar love that had always been their anchor. It was a start, a small step towards rediscovering each other in this new chapter of their lives.  Somehow, Thomas found her secret spot on her neck. He knew it drove her wild when he kissed it, and she inhaled, looking at the old woman in the mirror.

"One moment, my 'usband," she said.

"Don't be long," he replied.

Esmerelda smiled.

She'd found that she couldn't remove the geas, but she could assume an 'outfit' that was basically no outfit. Agatha told her one of the options needed to be naked so she could wear clothes from a closet. She could also physically take down her hair, remove all the hairpins and most of the jewelry, though in order to understand Thomas, she had to wear the earrings. She wished she'd chosen something else to put the translator in, but oh well.

She sat at the vanity, and wiped off all the makeup. Then she took off as much of the jewelry as she could. The rings wouldn't slide past her bony, swollen joints, so they had to stay. She also had bangles and bracelets that were the core of her protection spell, so Agatha had instructed her to never remove those as well.

She sat and braided her long hair. As long as she didn't trigger the geas, she could wear it down.

She stared at her face. No matter how much lipstick you put on a pig, it's still a pig, she thought.

She knew Thomas loved her. He wouldn't be here if he didn't.

She could feel that giant wellspring of power in her mind, just aching to be used.

Looking at her face, she decided…What harm would it cause if she tried a little illusion magic?

She thought back to when she was Lydia. Lydia with her brown hair, unlined face, youth, vigor, smooth skin, no blemishes. She pictured herself in her mind, then exerted just the smallest fraction of will…then opened her eyes.

Lydia sat in front of her, staring back from the mirror. Well, mostly Lydia. She couldn't do anything about the earrings, bangles, or rings, but it was at least the Lydia Thomas had fallen in love with.

She snaked back into bed, then slid up to her husband, stroking his face. Thomas enfolded her in his arms, instantly.

"L.l.lydia?" he said, in a soft voice.

She nodded, giving him Lydia's smile. "A leetle while. Iz all I can do."

He nodded, kissing her deeply, tongue dancing in her mouth like she remembered. As they slid together, she leaned down, taking him in her mouth, and he moaned softly.

After he came, she slid back up, smiling into his sleepy eyes. "You came back to me."

She gave him a sweet nod, wanting to scurry out of the room and brush her teeth. Holding a finger up, she slid out of the bed, then went into the bathroom and cleaned up a bit.

Staring into her visage, she saw Lydia, sweet, happy Lydia. She wished she could hang onto this illusion just a little longer, let her be who she had been…

But like a bad dream, the vision evaporated, leaving her with Esmerelda's face, toothless mouth, and braided gray hair. She sighed and made it back into the bedroom, where Thomas took her in his arms again.

"Aww," he said. "No more?"

She shook her head, trying to keep her lips together.

"Thank you, regardless. It was nice to see… Lydia, again."

As she slipped into dreams, the geas re-affirmed itself, and she was wearing a regal nightgown, with her hair in an immense hairnet.

And a trickle of magic, left over from her illusion weaving, fluttered down and connected with the surface of the mirror. Something bloomed then, illuminating the room in cold bluish light.