In Chains and In Freedom

"Who is that girl I see
Staring straight
Back at me?
Why is my reflection someone
I don't know?
Somehow I cannot hide
Who I am
Though I've tried
When will my reflection show
Who I am inside?"

"Reflection" - Lea Salonga/Christina Aguilera (Mulan Soundtrack)

Adira had dressed for her first performance since she had once more become a free woman. Looking into the full length mirror she frowned. Some days she didn’t know who the woman in the mirror was. Was she an imposture or a real woman; she could hardly tell any longer. It could have been the dress, her hair or something else entirely. “You were a slave; you will never be anything more then a slave.” Lord Tyree’s words rang in her ears as she stared at the reflection. The face in the mirror crumpled into a hurt frown. “Who was that woman?”

“Adira!” The voice startled her. “You will be late if you don’t…” her mother’s voice trailed off as she stopped in the doorway. Adira looked away hoping her thoughts could be hidden away, perhaps she was an imposture.

“What is it Adira?” Her mother questioned as she crossed the room to join her daughter.

“I…I... just wonder who I am sometimes.” Adira stuttered. Lady Deljah smiled reassuringly as she tucked Adira’s long pony tail behind her shoulder. For a long moment both women stared into the mirror.

Lady Deljah sighed. “I see my beautiful daughter, who is proud and talented with compassion and strength that most can only dream of.”

Adira looked down at her feet. “I still see a slave.” She finally murmured unable to look up at her mother.

Lady Deljah frowned. “It takes time for perceptions to change, my dear. Even the perceptions we have of ourselves do not change overnight.” Lady Deljah wrapped her arms around her daughter. “Adira, you are only a slave when you believe that is what you are.” She smiled as she gently raised Adira’s chin. Lady Deljah glanced in the mirror and Adira’s eyes followed. “From what I have heard there has never been a slave in that mirror. There has always been a strong woman there, a free woman who was never afraid to make her own way, to stand for her beliefs.”

Adira sighed laying her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I just wish others would see that too.” Silence pasted between them as Adira once more remembered how she had yearned for her mother’s comfort through her years of slavery.

“Who do you wish to impress?” Her mother’s voice snapped Adira from her thoughts. “.. Your family, your friends, the man you love? Who else matters enough to diminish your self worth with their blindness?”

Adira slowly smiled feeling foolish for her self doubt but her trepidation crept back. “What about court?”

Lady Deljah smirked. “Adira, the court is fickle. You have only to prove you are something more, more then a slave and they will believe it.”

Adira’s eyes ventured back to the mirror. “Make them believe.” She repeated in her mind. She squeezed her mother basking in a new found confidence.

“Then I shall be the most beautiful opera singer the Republic has ever known.” Adira declared as she straightened her skirt.

Lady Deljah laughed wagging her finger at her daughter. “Not if you are always late. Hurry along.” She encouraged.

Adira glanced at the time with a gasp. She kissed her mother on the cheek and rushed from the room in a flurry of skirts and ruffles.


Crossposted to theatrical_muse

Oh - thinkin' about all our younger years
There was only you and me
We were young and wild and free

Now nothin' can take you away from me
We been down that road before
But that's over now
You keep me comin' back for more

Baby you're all that I want
When you're lyin' here in my arms
I'm findin' it hard to believe
We're in heaven
And love is all that I need
And I found it there in your heart
It isn't too hard to see
We're in heaven

-"Heaven"- Bryan Adams


It has been fifteen years since he has passed from this world and I still can not forget him. I look back wishing that I had more time with him but I have learned over the years to simply cherish the memories I have.

Many would claim I abandoned him, walked away in 2235, which is not true. Being a woman who knowingly has rejected her husband and has found herself with child requires some sacrifices to save face but not many. My friendship with Vala, Kedron’s first wife, now matriarch of the house, and her understanding of the situation allowed me to have some of my most cherished memories.

Vala is many things but we share one thing in common, our devotion to Lord Thero. When it had neared my time to give birth to Adira, Vala publicly expressed her cloistering with me, allowing Kedron to be there. He had 5 sons already, all strong and politically or military minded but he wanted desperately a daughter to teach to sing. The Matriarch has always bore great love for him and would have given it of herself but a medical problem had lead to her inability to bear anymore children. She had approached me and said, “Deljah, my husband’s happiness is my first priority and I see in you both his happiness and his wishes.” She placed her hand on me. “She will be your daughter and his daughter and she will be my daughter.” She walked away without another word.

I have never seen such joy in a man as the moment his eyes first fell on Adira. I remember the tears as he held her for the first time. I cried too, from sorrow. I watched him cradling his daughter and knew he would have to miss most of her childhood, which he would have gladly given the world for.

My fondest memory though, the one that I hold closest to my hearts happened two years later. Kedron had come to stay at our house with Adon his youngest son on the pretense of training Kailin in Tronno. He did actually teach but it was the moment of his arrival that I never forget. He walked in the door and I came rushing out with Adira and his face lit up like a child. He gave me a hug and took Adira in his arms. She looked at me in surprise.

“Father.” she said and hugged him and we both broke into tears. She had never said that word and she hadn’t seen him since a few weeks after she was born. I had many duties to attend to and with Lord Tyree in the house it tends to deter any affection. When evening came around I went to find Kedron but no one had seen him or Adira for hours.

I found them both in the guest suite. He was lying on the bed asleep with Adira on his chest. It was a sight that could melt anyone’s hearts. I spent my night sleeping there with my daughter and her father, the only one we spent together as a family and I was beyond joy. I remember everything about that moment the time, the smells, the sound of both of their breaths. It was the only moment in my life that I could say was perfect.

I had spent years hearing that I was too young, I should walk away from such an old man. I assume that Adira is facing many of the same challenges only more acutely based on the social gulf between her and the Ambassador. I see them together and I see my own joy as well as theirs. The society is cruel and unrelenting especially to the woman, labeled a mistress, a whore, a women who seeks the silly notion of love and worse at times. Adira is already facing such challenges and her attitude is, well as stubborn as a stone wall. She has told me that she would die before she walked away from Londo; I saw it in her eyes that she was speaking not from her mind but from her hearts.

You can see that they are truly in love every moment they are together, they are always close, always touching each other somehow and they kiss with a passion that most rarely find. I worry for them both. I am all too aware of the trials they will face and I hope that their love will endure. I dream sometimes that I may yet attend a noble wedding in the court and I hope for their happiness each day.

OCC: this entry is inaccessible by all Centauri - excluding of course Londo.

For my fifth year of artistic training (in my 9th year of life) my mother arranged to have one of the best voice instructors on Davo come to train me. He had been a vocal instructor for mother long ago and was renowned for his knowledge of opera. The gift was little different then any other I had received or at least it seemed so at the time. He died a year after I had started training with him.

My mother was devastated by his death. She stopped smiling, stopped singing, she just sat on the balcony and cried. For months she was inconsolable. She still has not gotten over his death even 14 years later.

I have my suspicions now as an adult why she took his death so badly. I have a portrait of him that he gave to me as a gift. He had the deepest brown eyes, sandy red hair and skin of coppery golden hue. I often look in the mirror at my features so strikingly different then the head of our house, the man I call father. My chestnut eyes and sandy red hair, my skin the same coppery hue as the long dead man in the portrait and I wonder why I look as I do. I wonder if my mother knew he was dying. I wonder if the rumors I hear are true. I think my mother asked him to train me so that I could meet the man who was my true father once before he died.

I doubt I will ever know if my suspicion is true. Deljah can not even say his name without breaking down into tears that last for hours. If he was my father this then would be the most unique gift I have ever received.


Cross posted to theatrical_muse

I thought perhaps Trakis had the most influence on my life. Over the long term perhaps, I became an adult in his ownership. I spent years where everything I did was because he had demanded it from me. I also thought of Ambassador Mollari, he had given me freedom, compassion, forgivness and perhaps even love. If it is the most influential person at any given moment, he would be that person. While both of these men have influenced my life and greatly changed who I am, there is a woman who has defined who I am. To me that is influence, when you look at yourself and you see pieces of another staring back.

( Deljah Tyree )

Crossposted to: theatrical_muse