Monster Nine - Mom

“You’re grounded.”

I looked up. I had to blink a few times, since I was in the middle of reading something, and my eyes had to readjust. “I’m what?” I asked.

I was in the library with Luciana again. I’d finished my training for the day, and had taken my bath to get rid of the sweat and bruises. Now was the period where I’d sit down and read until lunch, after which I’d sit down and read until supper, then I’d sit down and read until bedtime. It was going to be a very busy day.

I also had to find some time to read other things. And maybe I could practice my magic if I had some time between books.

“You’re grounded,” the Dark Goddess said. She stood tall next to me, back straight, nose tilted ever so slightly towards the ceiling.

“Grounded?” I asked. That didn’t make sense.

“In the sense that you, Valeria, are being punished.”

I sat there, mouth working open and closed until my brows came together. “Why?” I asked.

She crossed her arms under her chest. “You are living here, in my home. I hardly mind that you occupy my home, eat my food, and use my servants to assist you. What I do mind is you abusing those privileges.”

“Huh?” I asked.

I hadn’t tried to sneak any food into the library... ever. I was way too clumsy to trust myself not to spill something, and besides, those were the rules and rules were meant to be followed.

“Your room,” Luciana said. “Your room that I so graciously allow you to occupy and do with as you please.”

“Yes?” I asked. This whole thing was a bit confusing.

“Have you seen the state of it?” she asked.

I felt the confusion leaving, replaced by a warm flood of embarrassment that rose to my cheeks and made them burn. “Is my room messy?” I asked.

“I don’t know, Valeria,” Luciana asked, though it was very much not a question. “Is your room, as you say, messy?”

I winced. “A little?”

“Yes, I suppose it is a little messy. How many weeks worth of clothes are on the ground? What percentage, exactly, of the estate’s cutlery can be found in your room? And, in my name, how many books would I find tucked away in your room, outside of their rightful place in my library?”

“Uh,” I said.

“Therefore, you’re grounded. For... I suppose a week should be enough time for you to muck out the pigsty you sleep within?”

“Okay. I’m sorry,” I said. I really was. Luciana was really nice and cool and it was my fault the room was messy.

She nodded. “Good. No books or magic for a week.”

“Gah!” I said as I jumped to my feet. It wasn’t even a word, just a sound of pure.... something! A week with no books! That wasn’t a grounding, that was torture. “A-a week!” I said.

One of her eyebrows rose up. “Do you need a calendar to assist you?”

“A whole week! That’s too much!”

“You have been here for nearly six months now; that’s how long it took you to transform your perfectly clean room into the state it’s in now. I suspect a week is how long it will take you to restore it.”

“That’s too long,” I repeated. I added a stomp for emphasis.

Luciana sniffed. “Two weeks then. One to clean up after yourself, another to reconsider the merits of talking back.”

“T-talking back?” I asked. I was a little stunned.

The Dark Goddess uncrossed her arms. “Yes, talking back. It’s what a petulant child does when she refuses to acknowledge things.”

I was, for a moment, gobsmacked. I place my hands on my hips, the same pose she had right then. “You can’t ground me,” I said.

“Of course I can. Are you implying I cannot do so physically? Perhaps by magical means?”

Now she was just being condescending.

“It’s just a messy room! No reading for two weeks is too much.”

“I could make it more.”

“No, you can’t!” I gasped.

“Watch me,” she said.

I glared, sputtered, then finally pointed a finger at her. “You’re not my mom,” I said. “I’m not...” My words were lost as my throat closed up, and I realized that I’d been holding back tears. It wasn’t my sadness that choked me though.

Luciana was staring at me, her expression neutral, but there’d been a crack, a moment I’d almost missed where she’d recoiled, hurt.

I’d hurt her?

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Her nostrils flared. “So, you’ll take your punishment?” she asked.

I nodded quickly. “I’m so sorry,” I repeated. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? What are you--”

“I don’t know what I did, I didn’t mean to!” I said. My voice was rising, levels that were already unacceptable in the library.

Luciana shook her head, “What are you speaking of?”

“Is... is it because I said you’re not my mom?” I asked. I was focused on her, every sense I had zeroed in on her face. It was a good thing, or else I would have missed that strange, almost impossible to see twinge of emotion.

I crashed into the Dark Goddess, arms wrapping around her waist.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

I’d never actually hugged her before, which now that I realized it, felt wrong. So I squeezed even harder. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Valeria, what are you doing?”

“You can be my mom if you want.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m sure you’d be an awesome mom. You’re so cool, and nice, and you’re very soft.”

“I am no such thing,” she said.

I buried my face into her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I repeated. “I’m, I’m a terrible daughter. I’m sorry!”

Luciana paused, then her hand patted me on the back of the head. “No?” she tried. She sounded a little confused.

I hugged as hard as I could, but it didn’t do much. I never realized how bony Luciana was. “Can I call you Mom from now on?” I asked.

Luciana’s hand froze. “I’m not your mother,” she said, sure and decisive.

I hiccupped, tears coming to my eyes even harder. Oh. Is that how I made her feel? I shook my head. “You are. I said so, and so there.”

“That’s not how it works,” Luciana said.

“You’re a god, if you say so then that’s all there is to it,” I said.

“Yes, well, not in matters of... motherhood. That’s very much not my domain.”

“I don’t care. You can be my mom, anyway.”

“I won’t let you bully me into motherhood,” she said. I tugged my head back and looked up to her and-- and was she blushing? I didn’t know she could do that! It wasn’t a very strong blush, but there was definitely some red there.

I laughed, at first a giggle, then a full blown laugh. It wasn’t too pretty, especially with my nose being all runny and my cheeks feeling puffy, but it felt good. “It’s not bullying if you’re doing it because you love someone,” I said.

“Yes, well, I... I’m not... please unhand me.”

“No.”

“I’m not used to being refused, child.”

“You can call me daughter, if you want. I’ll call you Mom.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t,” she said, sounding pleased with the idea.

I was getting good at understanding her, I think.

I pushed my head back down, hugging her as best I could again. “I’m sure you’ll be a great mom. We already do all sorts of mom-daughter stuff.”

“We do not,” she said.

“I bet you can’t wait to scare off boys.”

“I think that’s a father’s prerogative. And it’s hardly as if I would have difficulty scaring off any boys... please stop changing the subject so quickly. It’s uncouth.”

“We can do dress-shopping, and we can hang out, talk about our books and our day, and you can teach me about women stuff.”

“I would very, very much rather not,” she said.

I laughed. “Thanks, Mom.”

“I-I... you’re still grounded.”

I pulled back. “Mom!”

“Don’t Mom me,” she said. “You’re grounded. For... three days.”

I dropped the hug. “Okay,” I said.

Luciana paused, her arms rising, then dropping. There was a complicated bunch of expressions that crossed her face for a moment before she shook her head. “Yes, well... yes.”

I grinned. No books for three days was a small price to pay for such a cool mom.

***