#Anastaschia- High Priestess of Luna Chapter 1

[thecandywrites]

Anastaschia- High Priestess of Luna

So. My darling beloved cat, Luna, died a few months ago. She was only three. She was a rescue, she was a turtle and she was a sweetheart and I loved her dearly and I miss her quite a bit. She had pancriatitus hit her out of nowhere and she would not respond to any and every treatment we gave her. We literally did everything we could to save her including exploritory surgery to make sure she didn't have a blockage somewhere. And it still wasn't enough. So. At least I can say, with a clear conscience I did everything I could to save her. And to fill the whole in my heart and to help me through the grieving process, I've been writing this

So, just in case you look at that mouthful of a name and go 'wtf?' It is pronounced Anna-stas- she-ah. Because I am *extra*.

So, here's chapter 1. Enjoy.

High Priestess of Luna- Anastaschia 

Chapter 1

You looked out at your garden and whispered your apologies to everything as you harvested everything you could put into your pack and only enough to carry. Your mother had told you that you would be leaving your father’s village tonight because there was an army that was coming up against it, and that if you didn’t leave tonight, that you both were in grave danger. 

She told you that your god and hers- Luna- the goddess of the moon, the tides, foresight, and protection- that you both needed to prepare to flee. Luna however had only told your mother this two weeks in advance. 

Ever since, your mother and yourself got ready in secret, so as not to tip off anyone, especially your father. It was a lot of hard work and after so much work and preparations- tonight was the night that both of you would flee for your lives. 

In the last week of preparation- your mother had taken an old garment of hers, one that she wore before she came to this town and married your father- she called it a sari- it was one long piece of special cloth that she cut and stitched into an outfit for you to wear while you would flee. She said it was moon muga silk. It had a beautiful pattern brocaded into it. She said that the silk was very special. Because it would keep you cool when it was hot, and protect you from getting sunburned. Yet the cloth would also keep you warm when it was cold, keep you dry when it was wet, and when it was dry- wouldn’t let you sweat so much that you would get dehydrated but would actually soak up your sweat to keep you from being uncomfortable. She sewed it and stitched it in such a way that it had many drawstrings so you could use the drawstrings to pull it in to fit you but it would grow with you as you grew up. And with the scraps, she made you a simple rag doll that you got to embroider a face into and it was some of your best work yet. 

When the garment was finished- it was the softest and most exquisite thing you had ever seen. Not even the Lord and Lady wore such exquisite clothes from such wonderful fabric. When you had put it on while she was measuring it and cutting it to fit you- it felt like rose petals against your skin and it made you want to never wear anything but moon muga silk for the rest of your life. 

But tonight, you wore your Sunday best styled in the same way everyone else’s clothes were styled in this area, out of itchy wool with a linen shift under it. Honestly, this dress should have been replaced two summers ago because you had grown out of it and no matter how much your mother tried to let it out, your father refused to buy you more dresses, claiming that what you had fit you fine and that when your mother would bear him a son, he would get the whole family proper temple clothes then. But until then, she could just dye new fabric and sew it into the dress as it was. 

All while his own mistresses and their children, his bastards- and technically your half siblings, always wore the best of everything. And if anything was even slightly snug, your father had no problem giving all his wages to them to get new clothes. Your half siblings had five sets of clothes for every set you had. He even paid for your half siblings to be tutored by the Lord and Lady’s tutors for their children, all while you went to the village school and got put in the back, where you could hardly hear the teacher or see what she was putting up on the chalkboard and when you weren’t being bullied by the other kids, you were being ignored by the teacher.  

And while you could barely read and write, your father forbade your mother from ever teaching you how to read or write in her mother tongue, only speak it to serve as her translator. But nothing else. 

And every time you spoke in your mother’s native tongue’s accent in your father’s language, he would severely discipline you, all while he praised his bastards for learning other foreign languages and having “the good accents of the good languages” but yours was always “the bad”. You hated it that your father loved his bastards more than he ever loved you and treated them better than he treated you. But if you ever complained, it was just more severe punishments, leaving your little body covered in bruises and cuts. So while to his face, you had to be good, pleasant and respectful, behind his back, you hated him to the core and resented him. 

Which was why you were so happy to leave this wretched place with its awful people- your father especially- behind. 

But the sadness that you’d have to leave your garden behind had you feeling sorry that you would have to leave it. You hoped that the coming army would burn the village and the great house to the ground and that the man who sired you would be the first man to die in the battle. But you hoped that only your garden would be spared such treatment. 

“Are you almost done Stasi?” Your mother asked in her mother tongue- Alqua- as she came into the doorway to see you getting the last of what you could and checked the weight of the pack to make sure you hadn’t packed too much or too little as you wiped your tears from your eyes. 

“Yes Mama.” You answered her back in your mother’s mother tongue which had become your mother tongue as well. 

“Will you miss this village?” She asked you as you shook your head no. 

“Your friends?” She asked as you shook your head no again because you had no friends. Only bullies that made fun of you for being so different. For speaking in a foriegn accent, for not looking like anyone else with your pitch black hair and your eyes that were like the moon that they teased you by saying you had “ghost eyes”. You were almost an exact replica of your own mother. 

She had come to this village from fleeing her last one because of war. When she first came to this village of Kortar, she was famed as an exotic beauty who was the village’s best dyer because while paying her to dye anyone’s cloth was expensive, the colors stayed true and vibrant no matter how many times you had to wash them and the Lord and Lady of the great house refused to have anyone but her dye their linens and wool. 

At first your father was her most ardent courter, lavishing her with gifts while also getting himself a great house to be built so she could easily move in as his wife and comfortably keep up her trade. He showered her with great affections- only because she was the famed beauty who was one of the wealthiest women because of her trade. But once she married him, and bore him you- and then could not bear another child soon after, he took up mistresses. And all the love- slowly then all at once turned to hate between them. She was quickly ridiculed when she could not pick up the language easily. And she was ridiculed when she had not given your father a son after she gave him a daughter. You were 10 and still you were an only child. But yet, you knew, in your heart, that even if your mother had given him a son, he never would have changed his treatment of either of you or her. 

“Will you miss your father?” She asked before you shook your head no even more emphatically. Your father- the man who sired you was young, handsome and charming to everyone else in your village of Kortar and was a permanent fixture in the Lord and Lady’s house Laneh- because he was a court musician and singer and poet, one of the best for a few villages around.  

But at home and in private- he was vicious and brutal to your mother. Especially when- after he married her and sired you- his own popularity in the village shrunk because he had a difficult wife who couldn’t speak right, a daughter who was just like her mother in too many ways for his liking or anyone else in the village either. He hated it that he had a home that always stunk because your mother was a dyer and the process of dying cloth was a very stinky process. Even though in the beginning, he claimed that the money made up for the smell. But the last several years, he spent less and less time at home, insisting that the smell made him sick. 

And no matter how many soaps your mother made or how much she cleaned and scrubbed the house- he could always smell it and he disciplined you both for it. All while taking the money your mother earned in dying the fabrics and spent it at the tavern that he also worked at when he was not in the Lord and Lady’s court- he spent it all on ale and his many mistresses and his bastards. 

But whenever he would come home, and use your mother sexually, he would pass on the diseases he got from being the town’s greatest manwhore practically. Your mother had to cleanse herself after every time he laid with her and that was the only way such sexually transmitted diseases didn’t ravage her the way it did him and his mistresses. And when his mistresses came and demanded why she wasn’t sick, but they were- your mother simply claimed that she was naturally immune, keeping the cleansing rituals secret and private just for herself.

 “So why are you crying?” Your mother asked as she knelt in front of you to be eye level with you and helped wipe your tears away. 

“I’m sorry for the plants. They have no sin other than to grow in the soil that is coveted by others. I do not know if the coming army will water them or take care of them. I wish we could take them with us.” You answered as fresh tears came to your eyes. Which brought a sympathetic look to your mother’s face. 

“Oh Anastaschia, it’s ok. The good thing is- we have seeds from all the plants we have and those that don’t give seed- we have seedlings and saplings and cuttings of them that I have already put into my pack. We can plant them all in the new garden that Luna will bring us to. But now that you are done, I must hide our packs and prepare wine for your father, so he will drink it and fall into a deeper sleep than usual. And when he gets home, I will claim it’s our anniversary. You must speak your father’s language to him as best you can and tell him that you wish to be baptized at the temple this Sunday. That way he will be very happy and in a very good mood and treat us kindly so he will drink the wine, go to sleep and then we can escape.” She encouraged you as she gave you a hug. Then she took the pack with her own, and put them under your bed. Then she had you help her make a feast fit for the Lord of Laneh. 

“But I won’t actually be baptized right?” You asked her as you chopped up some squash for her to cook up. 

“No. We are leaving tonight after he falls asleep and everyone else has gone to bed and fallen asleep too. Luna will shine the moon extra brightly for us tonight and show us the way. The stronger your faith in her, the brighter her path will be. And by the time your father wakes up we will be too far away and the army will be here to kill him.” She encouraged you.

“Good.” You nodded, assured that the man who had hurt you all your life would be hurt in turn and die. 

After you had finished with the squash and other vegetables- your mother had you pull the special cloaks out of the pot she had them soaking in to fix their colors. Then she told you to wash them with a special soap and hang them up to dry, which you did, just before your father came home. 

“Happy anniversary Daddy!” You wished him as you forced yourself to greet him happily as you poured the wine into a cup that already had the medicine your mother had prepared in the cup. It mixed and spiced the wine into a heavenly taste. 

“It’s our anniversary?” Your father asked your mother as she nodded before he happily took the cup of wine and drank some before he picked you up. 

“And you’re all dressed up too! You look so pretty. I’m so happy you look just as pretty as your Mommy but are nothing like her otherwise.” He cooed to you. Which made you want him gouge his eyes out but you resisted. He kissed your cheeks as you swallowed down the hateful bile that rose in your throat to keep the pleasant smile on your lips for him and simply fantasized about all the horrible ways your father was going to die when he would wake up after going to bed tonight.  

“And I have a present for you but I can’t give it to you till Sunday.” You added. 

“Oh? And what’s that?” He asked. 

“I want to be baptized in the temple on Sunday!” You announced as your father’s handsome face- which only hid his hideous personality- lit up happily. 

“Oh good! I’m so proud of you Annie! That means that you’ll definitely need a new dress for that. We can go get you fitted for a new dress tomorrow, replace this thing that is starting to look a bit tattered anyway.” He cheered as he hugged you tight and spun with you around the room. 

“I made sure to pick special flowers that smell really good so the house wouldn’t stink for your anniversary! Did I get the good ones?” You asked him as he looked around to see bunches of flowers everywhere to hide the fact that most of the preserved food was already packed away, along with the home’s supplies of soap and dying supplies were already all packed away into your mother’s pack too. You had spent all morning picking all the wild flowers you could find to make bouquets for the house and your mother had dumped all the other vats of dyes that morning too and washed them away so that no other could steal them once she would leave.  

“You did great! For once the house doesn’t smell like an outhouse! You did really good Sweetie!” He cooed to you before he put you down and had you sit on his knee as your mother served him the feast she had practically slaved over all day. Both you and your father shared one last meal together, just the way he liked it, and just the way you hated it- simple local herbs only on his meat roasted over a fire. While your palette usually much preferred the food of your mother’s native culture, with its rich spices and cooked over low heat but cooked all day long so that by dinner time, was tender and extra delicious, with flavors that were deep and wonderfully complex. 

But you wanted him to be happy if only to treat you and your mother nicely- one last night. He even let you have your own little cup of wine to celebrate with him- the good news of his anniversary and your future baptism. He had three cups of the specially spiked wine and was soon- very happily drunk and already talking about how the Lord’s son who was five years older than you wanted to marry you in a few years when you would grow “enough” for him because to him- you were the prettiest girl in the village and that after your baptism, you would start to learn in the Lord’s house with the tutors because no daughter in law to a Lord should be ill-educated. For your father’s sake, you agreed to everything he said, just to make him happy enough to keep drinking his spiked wine so he would fall asleep soon. 

After dinner, he tucked you into bed and drunkenly laid with your mother as she let him do as he pleased with her one last time. Then he passed out and was soon snoring away into a deep coma like sleep. And once he did, both you and your mother seemed to breathe a sigh of relief that dealing with him one last time was over. Your father was passed out in bed and would be there until the army would come, by which point, your mother and yourself would be long gone and never be found by him or anyone else here either. And anyone who had memory of her or you would either be enslaved or killed off by the coming army. Your mother quickly dumped the vat of color fixer so that that especially would not be used by any other either. 

She bathed you both, washing you first and cleansing and purifying you just in case you had picked up any filth by being so close to your father. For the first time, you felt truly clean, you had an inner peace and contentment. And every bit of hurt your father had ever given you- was washed away with it, all your body’s hurt was gone and it was like it never happened in the first place. You felt renewed and energized and you felt like a brand new person. 

She rubbed special lotion on your skin. She said it would keep your skin soft, and have its own bit of soap in it for when you would cross rivers and creeks, it would wash you and your clothes and keep your body clean as you traveled so you didn’t have to stop to bathe or wash your clothes. All so that you could just continuously flee and only stop to eat, drink, relieve yourself and sleep. The lotion would also protect your skin from any bug that wished to bite you and hide your body’s scent in the woods so that neither of you could be tracked. It would keep your feet safe from blisters and keep your thighs and arms safe from being rubbed raw as you would run.

The lotion itself was thick like butter and for your nose- it smelled better than any flower you had known, and your mother said she had perfumed it with the last of her jasmine oil from her homeland. But the scent would be in your nose and your mother’s nose but nothing beyond, like perfume just for you. Your skin practically glowed with it on and it made it look like you had pearls and opals rubbed into your skin. You felt that your skin was just as soft as when you were a baby, if not softer. 

Then your mother washed herself, purifying herself of any filth your father may have tried to pass on to her - again. And what your mother hoped and prayed would be the last time. As her own body did the same, all the bruises your father had given her previously vanished, all her pain and aches in her body were gone and she was made like new. Because she would be damned if she was ever going to remarry and deal with another man who was anything like your father. Then you helped her put the special lotion all over herself too and smiled when her skin glowed too, like it had pearls and opals rubbed into it too.  

You both got dressed in the special clothes your mother had made just for your escape, your mother put on the same clothes she had been wearing when she had fled the last time, grateful that they still fit after 12 years of being put away into a special locked chest with all her other clothes she had brought with her the last time she fled. 

She packed all of her old clothes and only the work clothes she wore here in this village so she could, in theory, wear them and fit in with the working class of any village around here and far beyond, but nothing else. 

No jewel, no coin or other riches. Nothing else that would identify you or her as being from this place, just in case you went to a village that was an enemy of this one. 

She had finished all her orders early in the week, while your father was at his mistresses’ and couldn’t be there to steal her wages again.

She spent some of the coin buying every fine flower from every garden to make herself- flower absolute- which was the concentrated oil that came from soaking flowers in a special solution so that their scent would transfer to the solution, then she pressed the flowers to squeeze out any other scented oil from them, then cooked it down to a thick, waxy substance which she called ‘flower concrete’ and then rendered that down into flower wax for soaps, and flower concentrate oil, or absolute- for either lotions, perfumes, or special scented soaps. 

She had spent half of the remaining coin getting special preserved food stuffs that would travel well. And spent the last half on getting glass bottles to put her concentrated dyes, oils, and flower absolutes in. She wrapped each precious bottle in her old clothes so that they would not break as she traveled. 

In the last week- when your father had come back home a couple of days later after she had finished the orders and coincidentally, after she spent it all and had already started her flower absolute process- she had excused that she was making perfumes for the Lord and Lady in exchange for free rent for the next several months. He thankfully accepted that instead- but only in exchange that she would make some perfume for his mistresses too- instead of being angry and beating her for not giving him all her money instead. Which she had agreed to but knew that those whores were never going to ever get another thing from her. She had also used all her other supplies for soap to make all the soap she could and packed it with her because she didn’t know when she would be able to make more, much less be able to buy more. 

So after you both got dressed, she braided your hair to keep it out of your face and keep it from being tangled as you would travel. She put special oil in your hair too to keep it soft and conditioned for when you would dunk to wash yourselves in the streams and creeks on your journey, your hair would be washed and conditioned too by just getting wet and then dry again.  

“Did he hurt you Mama?” You asked her since you had searched her body when you had put the last of the lotion on her to see if your dad had given your mother any new hurts while pleasuring himself this last time but knowing that if your bruises had healed, her’s would have too, even before the bruises would bloom on her skin. 

“No, not this time.” She reassured you with a soft whisper before you both got everything you needed and finished packing. She quickly used up the food in the house and garden to make small meat pies and fruit pies that you could eat on the run without having to stop to make a fire to cook anything and that would keep without spoiling. She made sure each of you had half of both kinds before she packed her remaining spices away too. 

She insisted that all you needed- was seeds to plant another garden, clothes to work in- in all the seasons, food and soap to keep yourself and your things clean, water skins, and of all the supplies for dyes so you could dye other cloth in other villages as a trade to keep you better than any husband and father ever could. Especially from ones who would be nice one minute and mean the next like the man who sired you. Along with examples of her best work and a book of swatches showing all the colors you could turn clothes into. 

As a last treat, she cut open the first melon that was ripe in your garden, having you save the seeds to plant as it was a last- sweet treat for both of you before your journey. 

“Ok? Is there anything else in here that you feel you can’t live without?” Your mother asked you once you were done as you gave your toys a glance but only chose the simple rag doll your mother had made for you and no other toys that your father had ever bought you because you didn’t want to bring anything that would ever remind you of him with you. 

“I have you and I have Luna. That’s all I need, Mama.” You told her as you pulled the talisman that had Luna’s symbols of the stages of the moon engraved on them out from under your clothes and grabbed it tightly with your other hand. 

“That’s my girl. Ok, the cloak should be almost dry by now.” Your mother insisted before she got the hooded, poncho like cloak from where it was hanging up and blew out a breath of relief when it was miraculously dry and put yours on first before she put on her own before she had you sit and wait by the door while the rest of the town went to sleep before you heard a soft humming in your ears. 

“Mama! Someone is humming!” You whispered to your mother when you heard it. 

“That’s Luna- Anastaschia, she’s humming to keep us both calm as we wait until it’s safe to flee.” Your mother revealed as you gasped softly. 

“Luna?” You asked. 

“I’m here, my daughter. I’m here. When it is time, I will tell you. I will light the way for you and your mother. I will lead you to a new house that will be your home. That will have a garden even greater than the one you are leaving behind. Don’t worry. I will keep the garden here safe, since I know you care about the innocent plants in it. Another family will move in and another little girl will love the garden just as much as you do. And her father will be a much nicer man. Don’t worry. You will never see the man who sired you again. He will never hurt you or your mother again. You did so good helping your mother get ready all this time. I will be with you. I will sing to you and give you music to help you run at night, music to help you stalk through the forest during the day and lullabies for when you will sleep. Do not fear- I am with you.” Luna reassured you as your eyes watered with happy, relieved tears to hear Luna’s wonderful soothing voice for the first time. 

She continued to softly sing to you in your own head as your mother too blew out a breath of relief to hear that Luna was talking to you and comforting you too. She watched in relief as your eyes began to glow like the moon against the sky because of Luna’s power coursing through you. Remembering how it used to course through herself like that. But she made different choices in the past that separated her from her goddess, and she had to suffer the consequences of those choices. But now- she was just grateful to finally be getting a new start and taking you- her most precious possession with her.

Once all the hearths, candles and lanterns were out and your mother was sure everyone else was asleep, Luna of course helped everyone to fall into a deep sleep, so that even the village’s guards were sleeping and would not see you or your mother flee. You both got up out of the chair and stretched to prepare your body to run. 

And when Luna gave you the signal, you both slipped out of the house and with your hand tightly holding onto your mother’s- you both ran as fast as you could towards the woods as the moonlight created a particular path on the ground for you to travel on that was brighter than the other ground. You started looking around to make sure no one was watching you while Luna’s light from the full moon illuminated your path before you.  

“Don’t look back Stasi, if you do, you won’t be able to leave it behind.” Your mother told you. 

“But I want to see the army that is coming to kill that man who said he was my Daddy.” You told her before she pulled you to run on the other side of her. 

“There Stasi, there they are.” She said as she pointed them out to you as you smiled at the sight of the army encamped at a fair distance away, farther than most humans could ever see. But Luna helped you to see them. Their many campfires looked like orange fireflies in the distance. 

“Will they kill that mean man first?” You asked your mother and Luna. 

“Yes. The man who sired you will be one of the first to fall to their blades.” Luna reassured you. 

“We’re free Mama! We’re free!” You quietly cheered as you ran alongside her before you could both see and feel Luna beside you, taking hold of your other hand to help you run alongside your mother as she blessed you both so that you were bounding in agile grace and almost lightning fast speed like the deer and gazelle in the forrest. The light from Luna cutting through the forrest to light a path for you and the moon giving you ample light to see the woods that seemed to seperate for you so that your path through them was straighter and easier to travel as even other animals soon found you and were running alongside you- all around you, their tracks covering up your own and taking advantage of Luna’s protection and light to escape the hunters from the army as they stalked the forrest around thier encampment for game to eat as you laughed and giggled to run right alongside the fawns who were also running with thier own mothers. 

“We are Stasi, we’re free. But we’re not safe yet, we still need to be careful and travel safely through the woods.” Your mother reminded you as Luna’s music drummed in your head and heart and energized you to the point you felt like you could run for hours and hours and never be tired. 

“Can you teach me the language of my heart now? To read and write in it?” You pleaded with your mother. 

“Yes. I will teach you everything I know. But first we must get to safety. But once we come to our new home, I will teach you how to read and write in Alqua and teach you things that that bastard never let me teach you. Nothing will ever hold us back again.” She reassured you which made you ecstatically happy.

#Anastaschia- High Priestess of Luna #Anastaschia- High Priestess of Luna Chapter 1 #Reader insert #tw childhood trauma #tw-child abuse #but this will be a monster romance eventually