Notes: stylistically, this can be considered a companion piece to Tyrannus, in which Stefan
has a talk with Helena but we see none of her dialogue.  Now it's Stavros's turn.  Set in the
summer of 2001.

Rated R for intimations of squick.  You have been warned.

THE TRAMMELS RECUR   by Jayne Leitch
C. 2002

     So Alexis...is my *sister*?

     Mother, please.  You're joking.

     ...Really.  Well.  I always knew Father had his little diversions, but--oh, now don't look
like that.  You took care of it, didn't you?

     My *sister*!  It's...interesting.  I simply can't believe you didn't kill her when you slit
her mother's throat; taking her into your home, tolerating her as you tolerated
Stefan...such charity isn't like you.

     Ah, yes.  Father would have wanted to protect his child, even if she was a bastard.
Although it's funny, I can't remember him ever being especially kind to her...I imagine he
feared your wrath, didn't he?  You were always so...formidable.

     What?  No, I'm--it's a little shocking, don't you think, to wake up from twenty years of
frozen unconsciousness to discover that there is a sister where there used to be a poor,
extremely distant relation.  Some of us aren't as up to date on current events as you are;
some of us need time to adjust after being caught up on the more recent familial
developments.  You had your chance when it happened; I, unfortunately, am stuck with a
rather more retroactive understanding.

     My sister.  Stefan's sister; how did he take it when he discovered the truth?  I seem to
recall that they were *quite* close when we were young...

     Mmm.  How like him.  Of course, with this boring Katherine person you told me
about there to distract him, I can't imagine the pall lasted too long.  Oh--but then again,
he always used to prize Alexis's devotion; they really only had each other when they were
children.  As I recall, they seemed to enjoy a mutual desperation for friendship...some
form of intimacy...

     Why do you persist in asking tiresome questions, Mother?  I'm *fine*.  As I said, I'm
adjusting to the information.  My mind has a tendency to wander lately.  That was
predicted in your medical data, wasn't it?  Leave me *alone*!

     I'm...sorry.  It's just--a hell of a lot to take in.  Did you know that I used to burn her
hair?  Don't scowl, it was harmless fun.  She would sit outside with all those books she
liked to read, and I would sneak up behind her with Father's magnifying glass and train
the sun on the ends of her hair until they started to smoke.  I only really burned her once,
and then it wasn't serious; she was usually on her guard enough to catch the smell of
smoke before I actually produced any flames.  That one time, though, she must have
fallen asleep at her studies...the left shoulder of her blouse flared up quite suddenly, and I
think it was a combination of the heat and my exclamation of surprise that woke her.
She was remarkably clear-headed about it all, really; we were on the side lawn, so she
simply jumped into the fountain.  I was hoping she would get angry, yell at me...she was
always so timid, so quiet...

     Hmm?  No.  She climbed out of the fountain and walked right past me to the house.
Didn't even look at me.  Always so quiet.

     I don't know, thirteen?  Fourteen?  She had been with us for some time, but I don't
think I was very old.  What does it matter?  I do recall that Stefan was *very* upset with
me.  We had words over it later; he wanted to avenge her honour or some such romantic
nonsense.  He had been reading Mallory, I suppose he was influenced by those idiotic
notions of chivalry.

     He never seemed to understand that I quite enjoyed Alexis, in my way...he was always
so consumed by the idea that she needed protection from me.  From the moment she set
foot on the island he filled her head with prejudices and lies, turning her against me in
some futile attempt to claim her for himself.  I believe she was terrified of me within the
first month, and I had done nothing--nothing!--to make her feel that way.  All I ever
wanted to do was play with her, but she was always so quiet...

     I think they told each other everything.  Well, almost everything...but he did so love to
hide in the shadows, I wouldn't be surprised...

     Well.  Sister or not, Alexis can't be much of a threat, especially if her only ally
continues to be Stefan.  She never could stand up to me.

     Us.  Whatever, Mother.  The point is, she had no power when we were young; she
can't have very much now.  You said she's an attorney--a penniless public defender,
working for the rights of the meek and downtrodden, I suppose?

     Really?  Pity.  There would've been such poetic justice in that.

     Well, no matter.  She's utterly beside the point.  Stefan can have her, for all the good
she'll do him.  Hmm!  Oh, the looks on their faces when they see me--it's almost
physically delicious.

     Oh, Mother!  You've never been able to appreciate the theatricalities of life, and
you've missed out on so much *fun* because of that deficiency.  "Awake, awake my
mother/what wind will lift you too/forever from the tawdriness/make you rich as all those
souls/crave crave crave/to be rich?"

     Oh, just some pretentious modern poem.  About cars, I think.  Or...fishing?  I can't
quite--it's unimportant, anyway.  I don't know why I thought of it.

     I said I didn't know, Mother.

     Be that as it may, I won't let you deny me my fun.  I can quote pretentious modern
poets if I want to.  I can be melodramatic if I want to.  I can do *whatever* I want to do.

     Thanks to you, Mother, of course.

End.

Title and quote from "As the Dead Prey Upon Us", by Charles Olson

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