Little Things || House Dimitrescu & Child!Reader

8 Years Old (2)

A few days after the incident and getting your necklace back, Bela had confessed to your mother that you managed to grow claws just like Mother. The eldest sister had seen your slight distress lately, finding yourself staring at your hands at times. Bela would lovingly take your hands then, whispering to you that it would be okay, but that could only do so much. Eventually, she decided it was best to tell Mother.

Although slightly frustrated Bela hadn't informed her earlier, Alcina completely understood what you went through. She herself had gone through this as well, after all, but she hadn't been an 8 year old child. She can't imagine how scared you must have been when this happened, not to mention the pain of your fingers morphing into long, sharp blades...

Having comforted you for the biggest part of the afternoon after she confronted you, Lady Dimitrescu thought it best if you were examined by Mother Miranda. The priestess did say she wanted to stay updated on your condition, after all.

That's what brought you to grandma Miranda today. You sat on the big, cold steel slab as she thoroughly studied your right hand. You held it out, palm flat facing down. Your mother stood a short distance away behind Miranda, not wanting to interrupt her.

"When did this occur again?" Miranda asks slowly as she turns your hand to face upwards.

"Day after my birthday." You mutter, still not liking it whenever the subject is brought up again.

"And you said it caused you pain, correct?" You nod in reply, fingers twitching when she puts pressure on a muscle. Miranda slightly turns her head to your mother. "Didn't you have a similar experience the first time, Alcina?"

"Yes, Mother Miranda."

"What caused you to unsheathe them? Did you get angry?" The priestess asks you, eyebrow slightly raised. You shake your head a bit reluctantly.

"No, grandma. I was playing with Bela when she spooked me. But that has happened before, so I don't know what happened..." The lie falls easily off your tongue, seeing as you've been practicing it with Bela. The last thing your eldest sister wants is Mother becoming mad at her.

Miranda still has to get used to the word 'grandma', even after eight years. But she smiles softly at you nonetheless. "Hm. Could you perhaps show me your talons again?"

Your eyebrows press together. "Talons?"

"The claws, dear." Your mother gently informs, giving you a comforting smile, though it gives you little comfort.

You don't want to grow them again. You don't want to feel that searing pain again, the horror of seeing your fingers turn into something else. So you shake your head, whispering an almost inaudible 'no'.

"No?" Miranda frowns. "I can't help you without seeing what I need to treat, darling."

"But it hurts." You pout, trying to retract your hand from hers. Thankfully, she lets you.

"I know it hurts, draga, but this is necessary." Your mother interjects, before letting out a small sigh. She opts to move behind you, a gently-- although large-- hand placed on your shoulder.

"Just focus real hard, Y/N. Think about what your hand looked like when it changed." Miranda encourages you, patiently standing in front of you as she waits.

You look at your hand again, holding it up in front of you. You try to focus really hard, but nothing happens. Looking up at your mother for advice, she just gently squeezes your shoulder before you return your gaze on your hand. Instead this time, you close your eyes, seeing the image of your morphed hand as clear as day.

You think back about the girl, throwing your necklace in the well. You think about the woman, who harshly grabbed you and spat those hurtful words at you. The anger is coming back to you as if you're reliving that moment again.