Work Text:
Their Spark has Been Extinguished by a River of Sins
The night grew dark after that, and Asriel could only curse himself for leaving Marisa alone in the first place.
The house was ransacked, chairs thrown all around the chamber, some broken, others still intact. The carpet stained burgundy, wooden panels underneath now creaking as you stepped on them, the impact of the man’s body being too great against the flooring.
The place was deserted, the staff instructed to leave the building as Edward Coulter arrived, whilst the midwife was told to take the child to her home by the river and hide her.
His hair was a mess and his hand was shaking, for the realization of what had happened had just struck him.
He glanced at the shards of a gold-painted vase now scattered across the floor, along with many other equally valuable objects, revealing what was years worth of family heirlooms gone in an instant.
In the corner of the room, he could see her shivering, the naphtha lighting flickering across her features. Even blood stained and a mess, she was still mesmerizing.
He evened his breathing before stepping closer, to what looked like a fragile piece of porcelain, sitting knees to chest, her daemon coiled in her embrace.
Asriel collapsed beside her, back running down against the wall marked by a bullet hole from the duel. It had reminded him once more how supposedly lucky he was for escaping that fight with merely a bloody fist.
They sat in silence for a moment, taking in the wooden scent given off the ongoing fireplace adjacent to them, threatening to flare out. He glanced at the floor again, analyzing the gaping scratches on it made by his daemon as she fought off the man’s chameleon.
“What now?” he asked, placing the palm of his hand onto her silk soft skin.
“I don’t- I don’t know,” she whispered back, the sound so soft she wasn’t even sure he’d heard her.
“Should we call the police?” he inquired, yet was taken aback by her sudden flushed figure.
“Are you insane , Asriel? What are you going to tell them? ‘Coulter’s wife was just accidentally in my home at the time Edward came’? They might not be as bright as you or me, but they do know how to tie one and one together,” she almost yelled, tears bubbling up in her throat, choking on what she could only interpret as the sin they had produced.
They rested in silence.
Marisa stood up, sound from her heels clicking against the floor echoing throughout the manor, the remaining silence leaving a heavy pit in her stomach. She brushed the brown locks from her face, her previous perfectly coiffed hair now falling chaotically on her shoulders.
She walked graciously -as she always did- towards the main entrance, for the stench of a freshly shot corpse filled the air around. Marisa took hold of the handle and pushed the door gently open.
Upon stepping outside, all that could be past the grand front lawn was a single, omniscient car parked on the sidewalk, illuminated by the streetlights. Edward’s car , the monkey thought to her. “Hm,” she hummed to herself, unable to speak to her other half -as if she ever did speak to him.
She felt more alone and abandoned now, with her lover and her child, than she ever did before they were even together. The grief and shame inside her was inconceivable; whenever she thought about her daughter, she could only question the Authority how something so pure, can be the product of such a sinful action.
She sobbed monotonously.
Before Edward’s death, Asriel’s company was simply ethereal, now barely being able to look back at the previously elegant manor, let alone him, without wanting to damage it even further.
She forcefully turned her gaze towards the house, glancing at the door frame which was scraped by a sharp object from Edward’s forced entry, the crowbar lying ominescently by a small flower pot, albeit broken as well. Everything he touched, every plant, every object, seemed as if it had the inevitable future of being torn to pieces by the man.
The wind was picking up, swinging the door wide open, a sharp sound of it hitting the wall it rested upon echoing through the building, revealing an empty chamber once more. The sun stopped shining, hiding behind the dimness of the clouds, no ray daring to show its face through the large crystal-like windows. The air twirled around the room, flying past her and into the home with a loud whoosh, knocking over the last candelabra that was still standing after the conflict.
The once thriving household, where all of the luxurious and grand gatherings were being held, was now desolate beyond belief, much like herself.
Her reputation, her work, all that she fought for to be recognized as a woman in this male dominated society, ruined by childish lust.
Look where that has gotten us , the monkey thought to her once more. He often did this; pushed too far that even she couldn’t resist.
“Shut up! Please! Just. Shut. Up!” Marisa yelled at the primate, a drop of sweat trickling down her luminescent visage.
His residual silence shook her to her core.
“Worst case,” he began talking again, “is that they’re going to hang us for it.” His words felt like a punch in the gut, breathing incoherently.
By now, the clouds had begun shifting, forming fragments of images, broken pictures of what we call everyday objects.
One drop, two drops. Rain began to trickle from the sky, her surroundings now accustomed a bleak facade, her own fragile physique trembling down the marble staircase, legs feeling too weak to support her heavy regrets. She felt one with the desolation of the house behind, blending in with the hopelessness that accompanied it.
Out of the blue, she felt an arm around her waist, lifting her back up.
“As-riel,” she choked on her tears. He didn’t speak, nor did his daemon, instead he brought her into a tight embrace, her own arms coiling around his neck, holding on for dear life as if he was the only real thing in this damned world; because truly, that’s how he made her feel.