Daria
The thing that a lot of people who just meet Daria assume was that she was stubborn.
That was true in a lot of ways. Daria doesn’t go out of her way to pick fights but she would stand her ground if it was to defend herself or her siblings. Daria did get overwhelmed and intimidated but she held true to her beliefs.
But that was not why people thought she was stubborn. No, people thought Daria was stubborn because she didn’t speak. It wasn’t that she couldn’t, she still had the use of her voice, Daria just had a complicated relationship with speaking.
Daria couldn’t remember a life before the Red Room like some of her sisters. All she knew was the Red Room, it was home for a very long time. In the Red Room, there were a lot of rules, both spoken and unspoken, about talking.
It took Daria a long time to grasp the fact that it was safer to be quiet. Whenever the guards or Madames would ask her a question, she sometimes wasn’t sure if it was rhetorical or if they wanted an answer. Other times, she didn’t know what the right answer was. Punishment after punishment and many long nights trying not to squirm uncomfortably in her bed due to the welts on her back and bottom taught Daria what other girls understood far quicker than her.
To be silent was to be safe.
It was easier to bear the punishment for staying quiet than for speaking out of turn or answering wrong. Frustration from those often resulted in harsher punishments.
At some point, Daria just stopped speaking entirely. She couldn’t be sure when she stopped, it wasn’t a conscious decision that she made. She just knew that speaking sometimes felt like her mouth was stuffed with cotton or that the words got clogged in her throat.
At times, she would try to reply to her Madames, especially when she knew the answer, but she found that she simply couldn’t. The words were stuck inside of her and trying to get them out hurt. So Daria stayed quiet and late at night quietly mouthed every word she could think of in hopes of reminding herself that she didn’t forget how to speak.
When Daria was freed from the Red Room and taken home by a fellow Widow, she followed the rules that she always had. Yelena, rather than getting upset with her, was more confused than anything. The moment that Yelena set a notebook and pen down in front of Daria, she was filled with relief.
Daria had a lot to say, she just couldn’t always get it out through her mouth. Yelena always waited patiently for Daria to write what she had to say down.
Meeting Varvara had been overwhelming. It was the first Widow she had come across while she was free and she wasn’t sure how to react.
Varvara was the first of many to assume that Daria didn’t speak out of simple stubbornness. The only difference was that she tried to reassure Daria that it was safe to do so.
The thing about Varvara was that she was loud. Her presence filled the room and there was never any doubt that she was nearby because she made a lot of noise. Curse words left her lips as often as she breathed and when she got excited over something then she would just get louder and louder.
Daria liked her.
No, Daria didn’t like loud noise or unexpected movements, but there was something different about Varvara that she didn’t mind. Varvara’s brand of noise was something Daria found comfort in. When Varvara came to understand that Daria didn’t speak, she’d fill the silence herself, sometimes pausing to let Daria reply without having to interrupt her.
Daria’s fondness for Varvara turned into something deeper. Varvara never seemed to mind the way that Daria liked physical affection, never snapping at Daria to get off of her or stop touching her. She seemed to enjoy the physical contact as much as Daria did, even going out of her way to initiate it herself.
Varvara never shied away from trying new things and would often drag Daria into them too, encouraging her to let loose.
“We’re still kids, Daria,” Varvara would tell her with a wide grin on her face. “And I’m pretty sure that if we don’t give Ma a few gray hairs then we’re not doing it properly.”
It was fun to be a kid with Varvara, especially when she roped their other sisters into it. Varvara was a wild child, her mama’s little gremlin, and there had been a myriad of injuries that Varvara got from testing stupid hypotheses.
When Daria met her sisters, they often thought the same thing that Varvara had. They didn’t, and Daria was pretty sure that they still don’t, understand why she doesn’t talk. That doesn’t mean that they don’t respect her want to use other means of communication, they just never got her.
Daria thinks that right after Varvara, Irina was the closest sister she had because they share something in common. They don’t use their voice.
Both of them could. They just choose not to. When Irina and Yelena taught the rest of them sign language, Daria was delighted to have another way to communicate. While her siblings tried their best, some of them just didn’t grasp sign language well. They could understand basic signs but holding conversations was pretty much impossible. Varvara had tried her hardest to learn, spending nights reading through the sign language books Yelena bought for them to share whenever she thought Daria was asleep. Varvara just couldn’t seem to understand much beyond the basics but Daria knew that she tried hard and that was more than enough.
While it was easiest to sign in the silence with Irina, Varvara could understand Daria even better. She always knew what Daria couldn’t say and ensured that their sisters knew Daria wanted to say something, sometimes just yelling at them to shut up or other times kicking the sister closest to her in the shin to get the other's attention because Varvara was just physical like that.
It wasn’t that Daria didn’t use her voice, she just saved it for moments when she thought it was necessary. Just as she did in the Red Room, Daria would sometimes whisper words to herself late at night when she couldn’t sleep. She would recite her family’s names because they were important enough for her.
Yelena. Mama. Aunt Nat. Alice. Viktoria. Irina. Saoirse. Mischa. Varvara. Ksenia. Daria.
Her and her family. They were important and worth it.
Varvara got to hear her more than anyone due to them sharing a bed. Daria could sometimes feel that Varvara had woken up during her routine but stayed quiet and feigned sleep to try and give her the privacy she thought she wanted.
“Sister” and “Safe” became words that Varvara were familiar with and after the first few times she heard Daria’s voice she stopped making a big deal out of it. While Daria’s siblings or even her mama would get wide-eyed and startled whenever she spoke, Varvara doesn’t even blink.
Daria appreciated that.
Daria liked to borrow her sister’s things, mainly their clothes because it made her feel close to them. She knew what was important enough to not touch, things like Viktoria’s art supplies or Ksenia’s blankie, and she knew to ask if she was ever unsure.
Irina loved to learn and had quite the book collection, soaking up as much knowledge as she could. Daria’s older siblings would often bring back books for her if they saw something they thought she would like. Irina never minded sharing her books.
While a lot of Irina’s books focused on her big interests such as geodes or programming, Irina also liked fantasy and mythology. One day Mischa brought Irina back a thick hard covered book on Greek myths that was filled with pictures.
Daria liked reading and borrowing her sister’s books. Varvara hated reading, complaining that it would get boring, but Daria knew that if one of their siblings or their mama would read aloud then Varvara would be perched nearby to listen.
Daria also knew that Varvara was the perfect buddy to cuddle with while reading. Varvara would put up with only her in her lap with a book, content to settle down for as long as she could to let Daria read.
“That book is nearly as thick as your head,” Varvara commented when she saw the Greek mythology book Daria towed with her yet she made no move to stop her as Daria flopped into her lap with it. “I’m not sitting here while you read the whole thing.”
But just as Daria liked the stories, Varvara became interested in the pictures and the two poured over the book for hours.
They then came across a page that described soulmates.
Mythology stated that the Greek Gods created two jointed humans in a single body and that they were considered a singular identity. The humans, created in the form of soulmates, were brilliant, highly productive, and physically strong. When the humans, filled with extreme hubris and ego, wanted to take over the Gods, the Gods rained down their wrath. The Greek Gods separated the humans from each other so that they spent the rest of their life looking for their other half.
Daria wondered if Varvara was her soulmate, her other half. Something with them just felt right and Varvara filled up a hole within Daria that she hadn’t even been aware of.
“It’s kinda messed up for Zeus to chop people in half,” Varvara commented, resting her chin on Daria’s shoulder to peer down at the book where the two jointed humans were depicted. “I wonder if they crawled around like spiders, that would be pretty cool.”
Daria ran her finger along the words “looking for their other half” before reaching her finger up to poke Varvara’s cheek. Varvara licked her finger to make her stop, turning her head to blow a raspberry against her cheek.
“Well, according to Viktoria, we’re twins,” Varvara told her, wrapping her arms around her. “And I think there is some mumbo-jumbo about twins being each other's other half. So maybe…”
“Twins…” Daria mumbled. When she would return the book to Irina, she held it out to her first, the book open to the page she left off on. Irina took it from her, looking down at the page she was on, and smiled.
<Want more?> Irina signed, tapping the page.
<Yes please> Daria signed back, watching as Irina closed the book and moved to her bookshelf to sift through it. When Irina turned back around, another book in hand, Daria asked her <Are soulmates romantic love?>
Irina wrinkled her nose, holding the book out for her to take before signing. <All kinds of love. Made for company and affection> Irina grinned at her, giving her a knowing look. <Varvara?>
Daria nodded, holding the book tight against her chest. <Soulmate>
Irina inclined her head in agreement. Daria smiled.
Varvara was Daria’s other half. Daria was Varvara’s. As long as Daria had her twin, everything would work out fine.
It didn’t matter if people thought she was stubborn, Varvara understood, and that was all Daria needed.