[It's Alucard's mistake. He doesn't think much of what this beast can do to him, even though he knows it's foreign. He's never seen anything like it in all of his years growing up as heir to Dracula, or thumbing through books of the Belmont hold. Underestimating a foe is foolish, especially when he can't remember the last time he's properly fed.
The claws tear through his skin, ripping wounds into him. He snarls, but the thing's poisonous fangs finally bite into his shoulder. Letting out a sharp yelp, Alucard shoves himself off of the blue beast, stumbling onto his paws.
Then he melts away, reforming back to his body as a man.]
Enough. I think you've outlived your welcome.
[Without waiting another precious second, he grabs onto the creature's leg, swinging it around until he throws it off onto the sky. A few seconds later, there's a thud in the distance.
He huffs, his wounds trying to heal, struggling and unable to. There'd been other times where this happened. Terrifying moments. Here, he thinks... he feels a bit braver, knowing he's succeeded in something.]
[The wolf — was him? He'd changed his shape, no wonder she couldn't find him in the woods, but then...he must've heard the commotion, and —
He...saved her?
Her heart is pounding, her lungs devoid of air. She hurts all over; surely she'll have a whole ugly complement of bruises tomorrow morning, from all that she's been grabbed and thrown around tonight. But the wounded cry that had escaped the wolf's muzzle when it'd been bitten is still ringing in her ears, and before she's even really thought of it, she's stumbled to her feet and run to him.
In a perfect world — the sort that princesses are supposed to live in, the ones that go as they're meant to — she'd be free to fall into his arms and cry, shaken from the ordeal but returned to the safety of her rescuer's arms. But this isn't a storybook world, and she has never been a proper princess, and so when she reaches him her hands immediately go to his shoulder, pulling the fabric of his coat away with reckless abandon to try to get a look at the wound.]
I — I think I hit my head.
[But that's not important right now. Shadrack's monsters are all bred to kill, and she's certain that those fangs sunk deep into Alucard's flesh, wolf or not.]
It's enchanted. Its fangs — there's venom, it's magic, that's why. You're not immune to magic, are you?
[Of course he isn't. Would he be so affected right now if he were? But there's no time to worry about that. It's fast-acting poison; a human would likely already be halfway to dead by now. Alucard's body must be working overtime to hold the toxins off, but there's no possible way of knowing how long he'll be able to maintain it.
And in that moment, it's not about finding a way home, or about the castle, or their bargain. It's not about Alucard being perhaps her only chance to see her family again. Her own troubles and perils are the very last thing on her mind — so much so that they're not even present to begin with.
He's hurt.
He's hurt and she can't just stand still and do nothing.]
Lie down. Hurry. Conserve your strength, every bit that you can. I think — I think I can help.
[Magic. A magically made beast, then? Not impossible, of course, but his mind is sluggishly trying to collect itself. He blinks for a moment, then he seems to stiffen a moment when she asks him to lie down.
Is this the moment where she stakes him? Because he's at his most vulnerable? There's fear in his eyes for a moment, and he doesn't think he could fight her off if he had to right now. No, no that's all irrational -- she doesn't have a weapon, she could just leave him to suffer if that was it, but the gnawing agony of the past few years aches at him.
Alucard closes his eyes, slowly sinking down to lie on the forest floor.]
[It's a very good question, and for at least a few seconds, Rosella doesn't even have an answer. What could she possibly do? She's no magician. She's certainly no doctor. What does she know about vampires and toxins and monsters? Nothing. So how can she possibly hope to help him?
But she's watching his face when that terror flits through his eyes, and because she doesn't know his thoughts, she mistakes it for a different fear — or rather, the same fear, just born of a different cause. If she doesn't do something, that bite could very well kill him. So, not knowing can't be the barrier to doing. She's done impossible things before. This won't be the first; she'll just have to make sure it's not also the last.
She gets up as he eases his way down, hurrying back to where she'd dropped everything she'd been carrying and snatching up the old dress she'd been using as a makeshift sack. Now it'll do just as well as a makeshift pillow, and she brings it back to set beneath his head as she sinks down to her knees beside him and tries to think.]
Something's keeping you from healing it...
[It's something she'd said in a flash of inspiration, wholly on impulse. Now, crouched amongst the shadows, she makes herself think through the ramifications more deliberately. The bite isn't the problem, inherently. That he was wounded isn't what's killing him, not the way receiving a wound like that would kill a human. But it is the wound that will do him in, because he can't heal it like he thinks he ought to. So it won't heal; it'll only stay as it is, bleeding and festering, until he dies of it.
A bite that won't heal. Enchanted venom. Could it be cursed?
If it were cursed, then she'd need to break it. That would take being a wand and a wizard, and she doesn't have the time. If only it weren't Alucard who were cursed, she thinks absently. Likely he has magic enough that he could do something about it, except that he's the one that's been felled by it to begin with, and —
No. No, maybe there is something she can do. Isn't there?]
Are there ever swans in the brook?
[She strokes his hair back off his face as she says it, trying to soothe him even as her mind races. Maybe it sounds like nonsense. Maybe it's the only chance they have.]
Chickens. Doves. Something white. I need to find a white bird — it doesn't matter what it is, so long as it has feathers.
[They are tiny gestures, but so kind. There's almost a look of confusion on Alucard's face, but he accepts it all quietly, the way her fingers brush back his hair. If she truly wanted, she could go into the castle and try to find what she needs and to hell with him.
But really, she genuinely wants to help him, doesn't she? What a rare thing. He could almost cry.]
There is an old owl that lives around here. White as snow. There is a stream by the castle where there's an old tree, and a hole just big enough for him to roost in.
It is night, so he is probably hunting... but that means you should easily find his feathers.
[She is so kind, he thinks tiredly. Kind and beautiful. What did that monster want with her? In the end, he thinks he made the right choice in protecting her. Thank goodness--
Ah. She asked a question. He closes his eyes as he thinks about her soft fingers, then remembers to answer.]
This way. [Alucard points to his right.] I don't think it's far.
[He looks so weak and so small, lying there among the leaves. To think that this is the same man who lunged at her in the dark with red eyes and snapping teeth. The same man who, just minutes ago, had taken on the shape of the largest wolf she had ever laid eyes on, and come howling to her rescue as the meanie tried to take her away.
Well, it's her turn to repay the favor, now. And as loath as she is to leave him, every minute is precious, and there's no time to waste.]
Hold on, Alucard.
[She whispers it like a spell cast in her own right, and then she gets to her feet and hurries off through the woods, navigating by sound more than by sight as she weaves through the trees in search of the stream he'd described.
It feels like her search takes hours, between the rush of need to get back and the apprehension that the meanie might come back for her, but soon enough the earth starts to grow soft beneath her boots, and when her heels start to sink into it, she knows she's grown close to the stream.
At least the owl's tree is unmistakable. There's really only one that could fit the description so neatly, and it does seem that the old friend is out on the hunt; when she clambers up the trunk, unmindful of the bark catching on her beautiful dress, she sees a number of shed feathers inside the hole, and takes two just to be safe.
On the way back, she takes a slight detour and pokes around until she finds another landmark she'd seen earlier that morning — a wild tomato plant, late to bear fruit, and still with a number of its stems ending in yellow flowers.
Once she has her prizes, she begins to hurry back, following the mental landmarks she'd made until she's back to where she'd dropped the rest of the trinkets she'd been carrying with her when the meanie had grabbed her, and collects them before returning to where she'd left Alucard malingering in the grass.]
[This wouldn't be the worst way to die, he thinks as he watches Rosella go. Dying protecting someone else -- that's noble. That's better than most people, quite honestly. Dracula died mourning his truest love so hard that he wanted to bring the world down with him. Lisa died so cruelly to people who didn't understand how badly she wanted to help them. Both terrible deaths. Would they be proud of this, then?
His mind wanders, and he glances toward Rosella when he hears her footsteps approach. The moon's light barely cracks through the foliage, but what glimmers out makes her lovely. He doesn't think to control himself as he smiles at her.]
You're really helping me.
[So many times she could had fled and helped herself. But she's true to her word. More noble than most people he's had the displeasure of dealing with.]
[...Did he really think she wouldn't come back? He must really have thought — well. There'll be time to think on all that later. Right now, she's got to rack her brain to remember a rhyme she hasn't tried to recite since she was nine or ten years old, and somehow turn a forest floor in the dead of night into some semblance of a functional worktable. And cast a spell, when she's never been a magician in her life, with no training, no warning, and no reference.
...Why not? It's not even the most impossible thing she's ever managed.]
I suppose it doesn't quite fall under the terms of our agreement, does it. Well, of course not. I only agreed to do chores, and this isn't one.
[First things first. She digs through her scattered belongings, unearthing a burned-out lightbulb she'd taken from the front hall, along with a few bits of flint, the yellow flowers, and the owl's feathers. Then, at last, she slips off one of her boots and unbuckles something from around her ankle, unwinding it before offering it to Alucard.]
The settings — it's silver, I'm sorry, but do you think you can work the stones out without coming to any harm?
["The stones", when a moonbeam catches them, glimmer brilliantly off their multifaceted surface; she's offering out a pendant necklace whose focal point is made of two stones, one a rather lovely round diamond, and the other a brilliant sapphire.]
I need them both. I can try to break it myself, but it might take me longer.
[Without a word toward why a peasant girl would be carrying something so valuable, or more importantly why she'd been hiding it in her boot, she turns her attention back to the forest floor, and starts clearing a space to set up some flat stones.]
[There's a soft laugh, then he winces. The pain is still there, the weakness, but he's able to pay attention to her and her request.
He does wonder... how did a peasant girl end up with such a trinket? It's beautiful, and he almost feels terrible for ruining it. Idly, he wonders if he could fix it for her later.
His claws extend out, and he grasps the silver in them to keep his flesh away from the metal.]
I can do it safely. It would be easier with my sword, but... I did not bring it out here.
[Yet, he still manages to use his claws just fine to pry out the stones as requested. He holds them out.]
...It's only jewelry, I suppose. What are a few stones, next to your life?
[As he works, she's busy herself, snapping the screw end of the lightbulb off with a thankful minimum of jagged edge and broken glass, and once she pulls out the guts of the apparatus, she's left with a reasonably serviceable glass basin — not very big, but luckily she doesn't need it to be.
By the time she has it set up on the stone array she's made, Alucard is offering the gems back to her, and she's quick to take them, along with the silver pendant setting and chain, now emptied of their splendor. Almost immediately, the sapphire goes into the bulb; shortly thereafter, the yellow tomato flowers follow it. Next comes the flint, which she hurriedly strikes until sparks fly off onto the kindling she's prepared inside the little array of stones, and as she carefully builds it into a little fire, she watches the combination of gem and flower carefully, holding her breath.
For a little while, nothing happens, and her shoulders begin to droop.
But then, implausibly, the contents of the bulb start to melt and coagulate, turning a brilliant green color within the glass.]
Oh! Oh, that's a good sign...
[What a proper little witch she is, casting spells. Next comes the owl feather, which she pokes a little awkwardly into the bulb and uses to swish the mixture around, and then finally the diamond goes last — not quite a crystal, but hopefully the magic won't care too awfully much — and again she holds her breath as, gradually, the liquid begins to disappear, and the stone submerged in the solution begins to turn green.
Now, if only she can get the rhyme right. On the one hand, it must be a decade or more since she first heard this tale. On the other...
She almost smiles, as she closes her eyes and calls the verse to mind. When has she ever not been able to recite a tale of her father's exploits from beginning to end, with every word perfect along the way?
She murmurs the spell, leaning over the bulb as if to imbue every word into the newly-forged emerald, and by the time she's through, there's only a lovely green stone left behind.
Hurriedly snuffing out the fire, she tips the emerald out into her palm, and turns back to Alucard, looking worn but somehow triumphant.]
We need to get you into the moonlight. One moonbeam should do, but it needs to pass through this gem and strike where that thing bit you.
[There's a confused look on Alucard's face as he watches what's happening. All of the items she's collected look initially like nothing, save for the sapphire. Yet, all of it put together seems to be doing something--
Magic. It's a magic spell. There are so many mysteries about this girl. He wants to ask, but he hasn't the strength and now isn't the time. Whatever she's done, he has to trust that it's indeed for his sake.
What are a few stones, next to your life? Isn't it pathetic, how much those words mean to him. Yet, he relishes it in his heart, and lets out some air.]
[Claws have retracted back to normal fingernails, and he reaches out to touch her shoulder. Slowly, he finds the strength to get onto his feet, groaning softly before he lets himself lean on Rosella.]
[It actually proves to be a blessing, that she's so comparatively much shorter than Alucard is; it means that once she's managed to get him back upright and balanced, she fits rather neatly beneath his good arm, which also makes it mostly natural to just wrap both her arms around his torso to try to keep him steadied.
Under the forest canopy, there isn't much by way of moonlight. But the leaves and branches don't cover over everything, and one moonbeam is all they really need.
Fortunately, moonbeams are fairly easy to find when it's as dark out as it is.]
There's one.
[She says, without removing her hands from around him. It means she has to motion by nodding at it, but it ought to be fine. Probably. Hopefully.]
You said that — that it hurt because it wasn't healing. But if it were just a normal bite, you could, couldn't you? So I think that wretched creature's bite might be cursed. It's not going away because the curse is...well, holding the wound in place, as it is.
[It...seems sensible enough. To someone taking wild guesses at what's wrong, at least.]
So, if the curse breaks, perhaps it won't be holding you at bay anymore. That's what the emerald is for. ...I hope.
[It makes sense. A beast created by wicked magic should have a magical bite to it as well. And yet, Rosella seemed to know enough of what to do, to make an emerald to help him.]
And you need the light of the moon to make it work. To pass through your gem. I see.
[It's slow going, but they make it to the moonbeam.]
I know it sounds rather mad, but my father taught it to me. ...Without realizing it.
[So much the better that he did, though. Once they reach the moonbeam, she helps Alucard position himself as he needs, then tugs his coat properly out of the way and starts to aim the emerald.
The moonbeam strikes its facets with milky light, and the ray bounces around inside the gem and seems to light it from within, before beaming back out and landing squarely on the ugly bite.
Often times our parents are teachers when they do not intend to be.
[But Alucard truly does not question it. It's the least confounding thing to him as it is indeed magic, but rather he's still puzzled how Rosella's father must have known. Was he a magician? Surely he was.
The questions will be asked another time. For now, he watches how the light passes through the emerald, striking over the bite.
At first, there is nothing. Then, Alucard gasps softly, feeling the wound begin to finally close properly, or at least as well as it can under the circumstances. It'll leave another scar, he thinks dully, but he is alive.]
Well done. I think I shall live another day. [More genuinely, he says to her:] Thank you, Rosella.
[He's not the only one to gasp, through Rosella's is born of genuine astonishment and startled pleasure rather than the healing of an injury. A little dumbfounded, she holds the emerald steady until it seems to have done its work, and then finds herself just staring at it where she has it held between her finger and thumb in open surprise. That...it really worked.
It really worked.
It's certainly not the most absurd thing she's ever heard, but it's fast approaching the level of defeating a yeti with a custard pie, that much is for certain.
Still, when Alucard thanks her, the reality of it seems to break the thoughts that had held her spellbound, and before she can think twice about it, she drops to her knees herself and throws her arms around him, burying her face in his uninjured shoulder.]
Oh, Alucard...!
[She won't cry, not like this, but all the air seems to leave her chest in a rush, as now that the immediate crisis is over, the rest of the worry and terror and fright she'd been holding back can finally come rushing to the forefront.]
[She, too, is relieved at his survival. Possibly overwhelmed from having almost been caught by whatever monster that had been trying to catch her, too. For a moment, he pauses, her arms around him, and eventually he returns the embrace.]
We're both all right.
[Alucard's voice is a bit softer, trying to be reassuring.
[It'll occur to her, in a minute or two, that she's clinging to him awfully tightly for someone who has both seen him in a rage and knows full well what a private person he is. For the moment, though, the only thought in her head is of how frail he'd looked as he'd lain down among the leaves, and how surprised he'd seemed when she'd come back for him, after all.]
I'm so sorry, it's my fault...
[She buries her face in his shoulder, snuffling.]
Let me take you home, it's awful out. And that horrible thing might still be out here somewhere.
It is a bit your fault. [Alucard says it wryly, not meaning to actually hurt her feelings.] But you also saved my life. So perhaps we can call it even.
[Lightly, he places his hand to her back.]
Then we should go.
[Alucard stands, encouraging Rosella to follow as he rises. Though his arms slip away from Rosella, he pauses before offering his elbow to her, as a gentleman would.]
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The claws tear through his skin, ripping wounds into him. He snarls, but the thing's poisonous fangs finally bite into his shoulder. Letting out a sharp yelp, Alucard shoves himself off of the blue beast, stumbling onto his paws.
Then he melts away, reforming back to his body as a man.]
Enough. I think you've outlived your welcome.
[Without waiting another precious second, he grabs onto the creature's leg, swinging it around until he throws it off onto the sky. A few seconds later, there's a thud in the distance.
He huffs, his wounds trying to heal, struggling and unable to. There'd been other times where this happened. Terrifying moments. Here, he thinks... he feels a bit braver, knowing he's succeeded in something.]
Are you hurt?
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[The wolf — was him? He'd changed his shape, no wonder she couldn't find him in the woods, but then...he must've heard the commotion, and —
He...saved her?
Her heart is pounding, her lungs devoid of air. She hurts all over; surely she'll have a whole ugly complement of bruises tomorrow morning, from all that she's been grabbed and thrown around tonight. But the wounded cry that had escaped the wolf's muzzle when it'd been bitten is still ringing in her ears, and before she's even really thought of it, she's stumbled to her feet and run to him.
In a perfect world — the sort that princesses are supposed to live in, the ones that go as they're meant to — she'd be free to fall into his arms and cry, shaken from the ordeal but returned to the safety of her rescuer's arms. But this isn't a storybook world, and she has never been a proper princess, and so when she reaches him her hands immediately go to his shoulder, pulling the fabric of his coat away with reckless abandon to try to get a look at the wound.]
I — I think I hit my head.
[But that's not important right now. Shadrack's monsters are all bred to kill, and she's certain that those fangs sunk deep into Alucard's flesh, wolf or not.]
Did it bite you? Let me see. Hurry...
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It's not healing. I don't understand. No silver or... anything holy.
[He feels dizzy and strange. Numb and colder than usual.
Alucard should be angry she'd left the castle, but if she wanted to flee she could right now. He couldn't stop her.]
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[Of course he isn't. Would he be so affected right now if he were? But there's no time to worry about that. It's fast-acting poison; a human would likely already be halfway to dead by now. Alucard's body must be working overtime to hold the toxins off, but there's no possible way of knowing how long he'll be able to maintain it.
And in that moment, it's not about finding a way home, or about the castle, or their bargain. It's not about Alucard being perhaps her only chance to see her family again. Her own troubles and perils are the very last thing on her mind — so much so that they're not even present to begin with.
He's hurt.
He's hurt and she can't just stand still and do nothing.]
Lie down. Hurry. Conserve your strength, every bit that you can. I think — I think I can help.
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Is this the moment where she stakes him? Because he's at his most vulnerable? There's fear in his eyes for a moment, and he doesn't think he could fight her off if he had to right now. No, no that's all irrational -- she doesn't have a weapon, she could just leave him to suffer if that was it, but the gnawing agony of the past few years aches at him.
Alucard closes his eyes, slowly sinking down to lie on the forest floor.]
What will you do?
no subject
But she's watching his face when that terror flits through his eyes, and because she doesn't know his thoughts, she mistakes it for a different fear — or rather, the same fear, just born of a different cause. If she doesn't do something, that bite could very well kill him. So, not knowing can't be the barrier to doing. She's done impossible things before. This won't be the first; she'll just have to make sure it's not also the last.
She gets up as he eases his way down, hurrying back to where she'd dropped everything she'd been carrying and snatching up the old dress she'd been using as a makeshift sack. Now it'll do just as well as a makeshift pillow, and she brings it back to set beneath his head as she sinks down to her knees beside him and tries to think.]
Something's keeping you from healing it...
[It's something she'd said in a flash of inspiration, wholly on impulse. Now, crouched amongst the shadows, she makes herself think through the ramifications more deliberately. The bite isn't the problem, inherently. That he was wounded isn't what's killing him, not the way receiving a wound like that would kill a human. But it is the wound that will do him in, because he can't heal it like he thinks he ought to. So it won't heal; it'll only stay as it is, bleeding and festering, until he dies of it.
A bite that won't heal. Enchanted venom. Could it be cursed?
If it were cursed, then she'd need to break it. That would take being a wand and a wizard, and she doesn't have the time. If only it weren't Alucard who were cursed, she thinks absently. Likely he has magic enough that he could do something about it, except that he's the one that's been felled by it to begin with, and —
No. No, maybe there is something she can do. Isn't there?]
Are there ever swans in the brook?
[She strokes his hair back off his face as she says it, trying to soothe him even as her mind races. Maybe it sounds like nonsense. Maybe it's the only chance they have.]
Chickens. Doves. Something white. I need to find a white bird — it doesn't matter what it is, so long as it has feathers.
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But really, she genuinely wants to help him, doesn't she? What a rare thing. He could almost cry.]
There is an old owl that lives around here. White as snow. There is a stream by the castle where there's an old tree, and a hole just big enough for him to roost in.
It is night, so he is probably hunting... but that means you should easily find his feathers.
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[She casts a worried look toward his shoulder. It's bad, but — but he's not dead yet, and there might still be time.
(Just like Daddy. Slowly slipping away, while she runs off on a hope and a prayer.)
She strokes her fingers down the curve of his cheek, soothing in what little measure she can.]
I'll come back for you soon. I promise.
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Ah. She asked a question. He closes his eyes as he thinks about her soft fingers, then remembers to answer.]
This way. [Alucard points to his right.] I don't think it's far.
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Well, it's her turn to repay the favor, now. And as loath as she is to leave him, every minute is precious, and there's no time to waste.]
Hold on, Alucard.
[She whispers it like a spell cast in her own right, and then she gets to her feet and hurries off through the woods, navigating by sound more than by sight as she weaves through the trees in search of the stream he'd described.
It feels like her search takes hours, between the rush of need to get back and the apprehension that the meanie might come back for her, but soon enough the earth starts to grow soft beneath her boots, and when her heels start to sink into it, she knows she's grown close to the stream.
At least the owl's tree is unmistakable. There's really only one that could fit the description so neatly, and it does seem that the old friend is out on the hunt; when she clambers up the trunk, unmindful of the bark catching on her beautiful dress, she sees a number of shed feathers inside the hole, and takes two just to be safe.
On the way back, she takes a slight detour and pokes around until she finds another landmark she'd seen earlier that morning — a wild tomato plant, late to bear fruit, and still with a number of its stems ending in yellow flowers.
Once she has her prizes, she begins to hurry back, following the mental landmarks she'd made until she's back to where she'd dropped the rest of the trinkets she'd been carrying with her when the meanie had grabbed her, and collects them before returning to where she'd left Alucard malingering in the grass.]
no subject
His mind wanders, and he glances toward Rosella when he hears her footsteps approach. The moon's light barely cracks through the foliage, but what glimmers out makes her lovely. He doesn't think to control himself as he smiles at her.]
You're really helping me.
[So many times she could had fled and helped herself. But she's true to her word. More noble than most people he's had the displeasure of dealing with.]
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...Why not? It's not even the most impossible thing she's ever managed.]
I suppose it doesn't quite fall under the terms of our agreement, does it. Well, of course not. I only agreed to do chores, and this isn't one.
[First things first. She digs through her scattered belongings, unearthing a burned-out lightbulb she'd taken from the front hall, along with a few bits of flint, the yellow flowers, and the owl's feathers. Then, at last, she slips off one of her boots and unbuckles something from around her ankle, unwinding it before offering it to Alucard.]
The settings — it's silver, I'm sorry, but do you think you can work the stones out without coming to any harm?
["The stones", when a moonbeam catches them, glimmer brilliantly off their multifaceted surface; she's offering out a pendant necklace whose focal point is made of two stones, one a rather lovely round diamond, and the other a brilliant sapphire.]
I need them both. I can try to break it myself, but it might take me longer.
[Without a word toward why a peasant girl would be carrying something so valuable, or more importantly why she'd been hiding it in her boot, she turns her attention back to the forest floor, and starts clearing a space to set up some flat stones.]
no subject
[There's a soft laugh, then he winces. The pain is still there, the weakness, but he's able to pay attention to her and her request.
He does wonder... how did a peasant girl end up with such a trinket? It's beautiful, and he almost feels terrible for ruining it. Idly, he wonders if he could fix it for her later.
His claws extend out, and he grasps the silver in them to keep his flesh away from the metal.]
I can do it safely. It would be easier with my sword, but... I did not bring it out here.
[Yet, he still manages to use his claws just fine to pry out the stones as requested. He holds them out.]
It is a shame to ruin this...
no subject
[As he works, she's busy herself, snapping the screw end of the lightbulb off with a thankful minimum of jagged edge and broken glass, and once she pulls out the guts of the apparatus, she's left with a reasonably serviceable glass basin — not very big, but luckily she doesn't need it to be.
By the time she has it set up on the stone array she's made, Alucard is offering the gems back to her, and she's quick to take them, along with the silver pendant setting and chain, now emptied of their splendor. Almost immediately, the sapphire goes into the bulb; shortly thereafter, the yellow tomato flowers follow it. Next comes the flint, which she hurriedly strikes until sparks fly off onto the kindling she's prepared inside the little array of stones, and as she carefully builds it into a little fire, she watches the combination of gem and flower carefully, holding her breath.
For a little while, nothing happens, and her shoulders begin to droop.
But then, implausibly, the contents of the bulb start to melt and coagulate, turning a brilliant green color within the glass.]
Oh! Oh, that's a good sign...
[What a proper little witch she is, casting spells. Next comes the owl feather, which she pokes a little awkwardly into the bulb and uses to swish the mixture around, and then finally the diamond goes last — not quite a crystal, but hopefully the magic won't care too awfully much — and again she holds her breath as, gradually, the liquid begins to disappear, and the stone submerged in the solution begins to turn green.
Now, if only she can get the rhyme right. On the one hand, it must be a decade or more since she first heard this tale. On the other...
She almost smiles, as she closes her eyes and calls the verse to mind. When has she ever not been able to recite a tale of her father's exploits from beginning to end, with every word perfect along the way?
She murmurs the spell, leaning over the bulb as if to imbue every word into the newly-forged emerald, and by the time she's through, there's only a lovely green stone left behind.
Hurriedly snuffing out the fire, she tips the emerald out into her palm, and turns back to Alucard, looking worn but somehow triumphant.]
We need to get you into the moonlight. One moonbeam should do, but it needs to pass through this gem and strike where that thing bit you.
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Magic. It's a magic spell. There are so many mysteries about this girl. He wants to ask, but he hasn't the strength and now isn't the time. Whatever she's done, he has to trust that it's indeed for his sake.
What are a few stones, next to your life? Isn't it pathetic, how much those words mean to him. Yet, he relishes it in his heart, and lets out some air.]
Can you help me move?
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[She shuffles over, guarding the precious emerald carefully as she moves closer next to him.]
If you think you can stand, brace yourself on my shoulder, and get your feet under you. You can lean on me the rest of the way.
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[Claws have retracted back to normal fingernails, and he reaches out to touch her shoulder. Slowly, he finds the strength to get onto his feet, groaning softly before he lets himself lean on Rosella.]
All right. I think I'm ready.
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Under the forest canopy, there isn't much by way of moonlight. But the leaves and branches don't cover over everything, and one moonbeam is all they really need.
Fortunately, moonbeams are fairly easy to find when it's as dark out as it is.]
There's one.
[She says, without removing her hands from around him. It means she has to motion by nodding at it, but it ought to be fine. Probably. Hopefully.]
You said that — that it hurt because it wasn't healing. But if it were just a normal bite, you could, couldn't you? So I think that wretched creature's bite might be cursed. It's not going away because the curse is...well, holding the wound in place, as it is.
[It...seems sensible enough. To someone taking wild guesses at what's wrong, at least.]
So, if the curse breaks, perhaps it won't be holding you at bay anymore. That's what the emerald is for. ...I hope.
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[It makes sense. A beast created by wicked magic should have a magical bite to it as well. And yet, Rosella seemed to know enough of what to do, to make an emerald to help him.]
And you need the light of the moon to make it work. To pass through your gem. I see.
[It's slow going, but they make it to the moonbeam.]
I will kneel. That should be enough, I hope.
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[So much the better that he did, though. Once they reach the moonbeam, she helps Alucard position himself as he needs, then tugs his coat properly out of the way and starts to aim the emerald.
The moonbeam strikes its facets with milky light, and the ray bounces around inside the gem and seems to light it from within, before beaming back out and landing squarely on the ugly bite.
Oh, she hopes this works.]
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[But Alucard truly does not question it. It's the least confounding thing to him as it is indeed magic, but rather he's still puzzled how Rosella's father must have known. Was he a magician? Surely he was.
The questions will be asked another time. For now, he watches how the light passes through the emerald, striking over the bite.
At first, there is nothing. Then, Alucard gasps softly, feeling the wound begin to finally close properly, or at least as well as it can under the circumstances. It'll leave another scar, he thinks dully, but he is alive.]
Well done. I think I shall live another day. [More genuinely, he says to her:] Thank you, Rosella.
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It really worked.
It's certainly not the most absurd thing she's ever heard, but it's fast approaching the level of defeating a yeti with a custard pie, that much is for certain.
Still, when Alucard thanks her, the reality of it seems to break the thoughts that had held her spellbound, and before she can think twice about it, she drops to her knees herself and throws her arms around him, burying her face in his uninjured shoulder.]
Oh, Alucard...!
[She won't cry, not like this, but all the air seems to leave her chest in a rush, as now that the immediate crisis is over, the rest of the worry and terror and fright she'd been holding back can finally come rushing to the forefront.]
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We're both all right.
[Alucard's voice is a bit softer, trying to be reassuring.
They're both okay, for both of their efforts.]
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I'm so sorry, it's my fault...
[She buries her face in his shoulder, snuffling.]
Let me take you home, it's awful out. And that horrible thing might still be out here somewhere.
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[Lightly, he places his hand to her back.]
Then we should go.
[Alucard stands, encouraging Rosella to follow as he rises. Though his arms slip away from Rosella, he pauses before offering his elbow to her, as a gentleman would.]
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