[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.]
[She nods a little, wincing as the motion jars her aching head, but gets to her feet and loops her arm beneath and back over his with practiced grace. Too-practiced grace, to the discerning eye — she hits the proper balance of resting her arm against his without winding up too over-close as a result of it, and naturally falls into precisely the right width apart from him to be able to walk in a straight line at his side without their paths converging on accident.]
— Oh. Here, take this. To keep you safe.
[With her free hand, she presses the little enchanted emerald against his palm, and waits properly for him to lead her through the dark woods back to the castle.]
[It's hard not to tense up, walking through the dark woods and remembering the grasping fingers of the haunted trees in Tamir. Surely Alucard is more fearsome than anything in these woods, though — even, perhaps, Shadrack's awful henchman — but still. Old habits, and all that.
It's much easier to distract herself with storytelling. Far better to remember a glowing fire in the hearth and sweets still warm from the oven piled around while they all told stories, one after another.]
They had a ring struck for my brother, as a gift. Gold, set with a yellow topaz — oh, it was lovely. But it wouldn't have been right to favor one and not the other, so there was something for me, too. Silver, and fashioned after some jewelry my mother has, with a diamond and a sapphire.
I used to like to play with hers, when I was young — though it was all much too big for me, of course, and I could never work out how to pin the brooch without it drooping. But she remembered, so that was for me. There's a date engraved in the silver. On my brother's ring, too. A memory of a happy occasion, is all.
[Do the woods frighten her? That would be understandable, especially considering tonight. The way she tenses makes it clear, but he would indeed protect her.
But he listens, arching a brow, turning the words over and over in his head. Gold with topaz for her brother, a necklace for her. Play with her jewelry.]
Rather well off for peasants, aren't you?
[Perhaps earlier in the day, he'd have been livid about being lied to. That he'd have ushered her out immediately, sent her away and never looked back.
But he would not be quick to throw away also what she'd done for him. The relief in her eyes, her kindness, her comfort, even her embrace.]
[He's promised her before that he wouldn't be angry with her, and he wasn't after she eventually told the whole of the truth. Really, that's all she's done again. Never lied outright, but only omitted things. Kept silent. Changed the subject.]
You did, a number of times, and I never corrected you. I suppose I certainly looked like one, showing up in rags as I did. And I deferred to you as any guest seeking favors ought to, of a host. And I called you sir when I made myself your servant, as a servant ought to.
[She glances at him from beneath half-lowered eyelashes, offering a wobbly smile.]
But if we were headed back to my castle instead of yours, I suppose I might outrank you, truthfully. So — yes, we're rather well off for peasants. But we're just about right, for a royal family.
I suppose that's true. You'd never really told me otherwise, and I made my own assumptions. And perhaps your old clothes were suitable for someone attempting to hide from another person. A clever one, aren't you?
[Alucard pauses, pushing some branches aside to let them through as they get closer to the castle.]
Oh, don't. You won't let me call you milord, you can't possibly think I'll put up with being "my lady"ed.
[Now she does sidestep a little, just enough to make it a seeming accident when she nudges her elbow against him. Certainly a completely unintentional bump. Not deliberate in the slightest.]
It's called Daventry. On the banks of the Southern Sea? With the Great Mountains to the north. If — if that helps.
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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.]
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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.]
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[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...
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[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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— Oh. Here, take this. To keep you safe.
[With her free hand, she presses the little enchanted emerald against his palm, and waits properly for him to lead her through the dark woods back to the castle.]
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[It's what he assumes, anyway. Why else would she have it, then? Then again, she seems a bit too educated in some ways -- but is he overthinking it?
What's important is that she did come back for him. Comforted him when she did not have to. He has to trust that much.
And so, Alucard begins to guide the way back to the castle.]
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[It's hard not to tense up, walking through the dark woods and remembering the grasping fingers of the haunted trees in Tamir. Surely Alucard is more fearsome than anything in these woods, though — even, perhaps, Shadrack's awful henchman — but still. Old habits, and all that.
It's much easier to distract herself with storytelling. Far better to remember a glowing fire in the hearth and sweets still warm from the oven piled around while they all told stories, one after another.]
They had a ring struck for my brother, as a gift. Gold, set with a yellow topaz — oh, it was lovely. But it wouldn't have been right to favor one and not the other, so there was something for me, too. Silver, and fashioned after some jewelry my mother has, with a diamond and a sapphire.
I used to like to play with hers, when I was young — though it was all much too big for me, of course, and I could never work out how to pin the brooch without it drooping. But she remembered, so that was for me. There's a date engraved in the silver. On my brother's ring, too. A memory of a happy occasion, is all.
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But he listens, arching a brow, turning the words over and over in his head. Gold with topaz for her brother, a necklace for her. Play with her jewelry.]
Rather well off for peasants, aren't you?
[Perhaps earlier in the day, he'd have been livid about being lied to. That he'd have ushered her out immediately, sent her away and never looked back.
But he would not be quick to throw away also what she'd done for him. The relief in her eyes, her kindness, her comfort, even her embrace.]
I'm not angry. Just curious, truthfully.
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[He's promised her before that he wouldn't be angry with her, and he wasn't after she eventually told the whole of the truth. Really, that's all she's done again. Never lied outright, but only omitted things. Kept silent. Changed the subject.]
You did, a number of times, and I never corrected you. I suppose I certainly looked like one, showing up in rags as I did. And I deferred to you as any guest seeking favors ought to, of a host. And I called you sir when I made myself your servant, as a servant ought to.
[She glances at him from beneath half-lowered eyelashes, offering a wobbly smile.]
But if we were headed back to my castle instead of yours, I suppose I might outrank you, truthfully. So — yes, we're rather well off for peasants. But we're just about right, for a royal family.
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[Alucard pauses, pushing some branches aside to let them through as they get closer to the castle.]
To what country need you to return to, my lady?
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[Now she does sidestep a little, just enough to make it a seeming accident when she nudges her elbow against him. Certainly a completely unintentional bump. Not deliberate in the slightest.]
It's called Daventry. On the banks of the Southern Sea? With the Great Mountains to the north. If — if that helps.
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