Chapter Text
Salve
Meaning: an ointment used to promote healing of the skin or as protection.
Old English sealfe (noun), sealfian (verb), of Germanic origin; related to Dutch zalf and German Salbe
“I hope you die and get burned in a stake.” Victoria stands up from the seat offered to her, words hissing towards the prophetess in front of her. The bitch having the audacity in front of her to throw her head back, curly hair going everywhere without any restraint as golden bells hanging from her veil rings throughout the balcony, and laugh at her without any shame or fear of what Victoria is capable of doing to her. Or to her family.
“What-” Alice, ever the antagonizer, simply smirks, raising an eyebrow to the witch. “Let me remind you that you were the one who asked me for a fortune. Not the other way around.”
Bristling, the blonde raises her hand over her head, almost as if to strick the lounging prophetess sitting so lazily, before putting it down on the table between them. “Give me another.” She demands.
She does not accept the future given to her by this cursed woman. No no. She refuses to join a coven or bind herself down in the mockery of a bond between husbands and wives- as if it would do her anything good. Victoria couldn’t stop herself from snarling, tempted to summon a whip of light just to make the woman let go of the golden goblet in her hands- to see the anger flash in those eyes and see how she would retaliate Victoria’s actions.
But instead, Victoria brings up her hands, brushing her hair backwards with her fingers trembling and crackling with familiar magic brought upon uncontrollable emotions. One… twoo… three… she looks away, towards the family painting the prophetess is so fond of. Her brother’s green eyes meeting hers from the painting and she clicks her tongue, always noticing first his arm wrapped around the prophetess in a protective and rather possessive hold.
“I can’t.” Alice answers her easily. “My visions doesn’t work that way and you know that.”
Of course Victoria knows that. But she still makes a demand of knowing what else can there possibly be at the end of the tunnel, to see something else- to know what else is there in her future rather… than that boring life of domestic life or the knowledge of having people to call her own-
Her coven. Her family.
Not after the fiasco of all those years ago and the fall of her parental Coven- she dreads the idea of having her own family. To let something else chain her down and force her to live by another’s rules.
“It is what it is” was the only excuse given to her.
Victoria grinds her teeth together, her frustration shown from how the jewel hanging off her neck lights up alongside her. “It is not what it is. The future isn’t linear-”
“But you didn’t ask me to look into your future.” Alice raised her free hand. “You asked me to look into your fate. Goodness me, you of all people should have known what’s the difference between this and that.”
“You gave me a trash answer.”
“I gave you an honest one.”
Victoria would do anything if it gives her the opportunity to wring this goddamn prophetess’ neck without any hesitation.
“Well it’s shit.” She turns around, heels clicking against the porcelain ground.
“I don’t honestly understand why you seem to be quite against the concept of-”
“Don’t you dare!” Victoria turns around, glaring with bright blue eyes at the woman. “Speak of it and I will cut your tongue off!” A threat she hardly means- she can’t lay a hand on the woman her brother decided to take as his wife unfortunately. A vow they had made together as siblings from a long long time ago.
“You wouldn’t.” Alice smiles up at her, sitting up properly in favor to put her chin on top of her hands after she had put away her goblet. “Such a shame Victoria, you would have been quite a lovely woman to love-”
If you have chosen me the first time round.
Victoria closed her eyes. Squishing whatever pain or longing she still had for this married woman in front of her. Shame on her! For still yearning for a married woman- her own sister-in-law and letting Alice rile her up by bringing all affairs into light. All wounds into burning alcohol and letting herself still be tied down to the past as if they were back in the old woods, running away from a world that wanted them dead for possessing abilities out of the ordinary.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t tell anyone else about what you saw.” Any warmth in her voice gone, leaving only an emptiness that mirrors what she feels in her chest- in her heart and she gives the other one single look. “This day-”
No. Not just this day.
“This whole visit never happened.” She scowls. This is an absolute waste of her time, expecting Alice to give her a proper answer to her questions about what is to come- ha. As if the prophetess would even try to answer her with the dignity or respect she so deserves. “Farewell.”
Never again will Victoria return to this place- to this haven they had once made together with three pairs of young small child hands for a future for their people. For their kind of magic. Though she had created it alongside her brother and his wife, it no longer welcomes her the same way her brother no longer meets her or the way their people fear her, always pulling their children to the side just to avoid meeting her in the path towards the heart of the city.
This place- maybe a long long time ago- was her home but it no longer is now.
Without even waiting for a reply, the witch left. The air between them sour and pained, tension heavy and all the prophetess could do was sigh. “Goodness, your sister still has a temper even if it's been years.” She murmurs, flicking a strand of her hair into the wind, letting cold hands wrap around her own.
“You should stop aggravating her temper firstly.” A masculine voice answers in return, a hand pulling on her hair to kiss the tips. “My sister’s temper is very much like our mother.”
“Is it?” Alice looks up, meeting her husband’s green eyes.
I think you and her have quite the same temper amore.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Victoria lives in the old woods, far away from the city of magic but close enough to be able to appear in case of emergencies. Sitting and living in a small hut enchanted with magic to be always bigger inside- manipulating space and dimensions easily with just a snap of her fingers and adding rooms if needed for any guests who would come. Not that she prepared rooms for guests considering that her forest and her own place is known to be housed by the Witch of Ashes.
The same Witch who had burned down kingdoms after kingdoms out of boredom.
If only they knew the truth but it’s none of her business to correct what humans’ misconceptions are concerning her. She had long striked down and carved a line between her and the other side. Making her boundaries clear with the illusion spells she had carved onto tree barks and small mushroom circles, asking nature to protect her from those who seek her for unpleasant purposes.
But every now and then, Victoria would find visitors- or rather people that the forest had deliberately sent her way as if to ask her for a favor.
Her first visitor, after holing up in her home, accompanied only by the sprites of the forest and the small critters who decided to call her living room their nest, was a princess from a kingdom she knows is close contact with the city. One she didn’t know would bring upon such noise in her humble abode- and without her realizing, she felt a warmth she thought she was no longer capable of feeling. The first among others who would follow her footsteps in occupying her home alongside the witch herself.
Victoria remembers it all too well.
It was a rather surprising morning to wake up to, her faithful companions pulling her out of bed to meet the morning and the passed-out stranger in front of her in only her white bed attire.
It took Victoria a moment to fully wake up, yawning when greeted by the familiar warmth of the sun and unfamiliar lady with hair that makes it seem like it was spun from the very essence of water and snow mixed together. Blankly, she looks down- her sleep-addled mind still incapable of registering with what’s wrong in her garden and her front yard. Her eyes moves away from the woman’s figure to look at her roses, blooming just as she had expected them to be and from the roses, she moves to look at the herbs- ah they seem to be lacking water. She’ll do that when she finished breakfast and making sure her studies are all in order.
She stands there, by her doorway, wearing only her white robes and a simple clear through shawl. A white deer nips at the edge of her fingers, trying to get her attention away from the treeline and she hums- before looking down at the deer.
“What is it my love?” She murmurs, voice still hoarse and she squats down, patting the small creature before she ends up accidentally stepping on a trinket by the ground. The crack alerting her of something underneath her foot and by looking down, she sees hair-
Her eyes traces from one end of to another, looking at how some places were stained red- the owner’s injured- and from the hair, Victoria finds herself looking at a dirty ripped dress, covered with mud and what she can easily identify as dark magic and a couple of leaves that might have gotten onto the body from the forest itself. With one hand, and as gently as she can possibly can without alerting the unwanted visitor, she moves the hair away from the lady’s face. From a single touch, she frowns-
How cold.
Too cold for her liking.
Is… is she dead? Victoria muses, still by the floor while her animal companions stare at her waiting for something- anything probably. Wondering what would the witch do with a visitor by her front door. She checks carefully, putting a finger underneath the woman’s nostrils and patiently waiting to see if she would feel anything. All throughout, Victoria felt like…
This was a dream. Who is foolish enough to brave the forest which had gained infamy through her actions? To run towards her cottage and lay in front of the door, and expecting someone to save them?
Or maybe Victoria isn’t expecting anything. She was a little too… calm. Too detached from this possibly-dead woman in front of her. If she is dead then she has been lacking quite a few fertilizers for her roses lately-
Ah.
Victoria’s eyes narrowed, standing up the moment she felt a slow exhale of breath. “Lily- Daisy- get her inside. Marrow, Spring, in my studies, fetch me my staff.” She commands her companions, entering the house to prepare for a check-up. The woman’s alive, but barely and usually Victoria wouldn’t care about anyone who enters her domain. Most easily scared off by her illusions or some of the other occupants of the forest.
Lady Nature keeps up with her deals as she does with her duties as maintaining the peace in the forest but sometimes, Lady Nature likes to allow people inside the forest- those she thinks needs Victoria’s help the most.
“Don’t die on me.” Victoria huffs, reluctant to waste her magic and energy on a dying woman. Though she is quite proud of her skills, she is not quite skilled in trying to keep the dying alive. Never been one to polish her skills of healing and renewing.
Honestly? She never thought she would need to. Alice was the healer among them but Alice isn’t here anymore and Victoria has to learn. It’s a good thing she has some left-over cream she made from last month where she had to make it to sell it to a bazaar happening in a neighboring town of the forest.
Hearing a thump behind her, Victoria turns around in her study. She shakes her head exasperatedly at the sight of the lady just tossed onto the table top. Her companions uncaring of what bruises she might have from the impact alone. Well then- time to work, she muses, tying up her hair into a messy bun and smoothing down her bangs to make sure stray hair strands wouldn’t end up falling right in front of her.
Uncaring of the other lady’s dignity or her reaction when she is to wake up, Victoria unhesitantly took off the ugly dirty robe off her and paused at what she saw. She has seen the naked bodies of women before. Days of trying to survive in the forest alone as a child alongside Alice might been the reason, having to stick close and bathe at the same time in the streams they could find in the middle of the day. Then later on when she had grown older, more accepting of herself and more in-tune with the magic that flowers inside her, she had finally let herself indulge in the desires she kept a secret during her teenage years. However Victoria is quite sure that the marks on her isn’t just marks. They looked like-
Doll joints infused into actual skin.
‘It couldn’t be,’ Victoria thinks, a familiar dread settling into her chest at the sight. No- it can’t possibly be. Those things were destroyed by her a long long time ago, banned by the Council of the City from ever being made for it plays with a godly matter of life and death. Turning a human into an immortal, reducing them into nothing but a doll, soul bounded to an object that can easily deteriorate and crack. The ritual itself was supposed to be locked in the deepest and tightest courtroom of the Palace, only accessible to her brother and…
Alice.
It couldn’t be- Victoria wants to convince herself that the prophetess wouldn’t but she would. If pushed and if bargained with, she would. And she didn’t know what angered her more; the knowledge that Alice can be easily swayed by whatever she was first offered or someone out there is cruel enough to curse this woman in the name of whatever reason they say they did it so. However, that's not the point right now.
She balls her fists by her side, feeling the press of her sharp nails against her palms. Stupid, she scolds herself. Concentrate on the more pressing matters in front of her and not what needs to be handled at a later date. Victoria looks at the woman on the table and then looks away to meet the beady eyes of one of her companions, a large brown stag with antlers reaching the ceiling. In the middle of his head, between his antlers, is the ceramic jar that holds the cream she hopes might be able to ease the pain the lady is feeling and get rid of the scratches on her porcelain skin.
“Pardon me.” Victoria lets the cream warm in her hands, rubbing it between her palms then presses it against a large dark bruise on the woman’s stomach. Whoever did this to her- the injuries, not the curse- knew where to strike. Someone close to the woman perhaps? She doesn’t know and frankly, Victoria doesn’t want to know. It’s none of her business.
However the forest brought this woman to her doorsteps, meaning there is a reason why.
The scream following Victoria’s touch is deafening, echoing through the whole cottage. Her animal companions runs away from the room, trying to squeeze their way out of the small door-
“Hey!” She scowls, watching as one of her favored vases falls to the ground with water spilling everywhere and the white lilies petals adrift in the wind. But she understands why they begin to run, even the strong stag by her side can’t help but shake and even her couldn’t stop herself from trembling at the scream.
I’m sorry.
She dips her other hand into the pot before slathering it on the same spot. The cream made her hands cold, colder than the lady and she rips her eyes away from the bruises and scratches to see wide opened eyes, staring at her both in fear and in tears. Eyes, the color of violets and winter stars, meets Victoria’s green and she finds her reaching out to brush the dirt and leaves away from the lady’s face and hair.
I’m sorry.
Victoria whispers apologies after apologies, knowing it must hurt. The cream itself doesn’t just heal wounds, it purifies what is wrong and remakes it to something better. It’s expensive to make, needing quite a lot of rare ingredients but it’s worth it. Slowly, the skin absorbs the cream and leaves not a trace.
Still, it pains her seeing tears drip down to her floor, the screams never going away the whole time she tries to heal her injuries. Though she is known to be a witch- a powerful witch who brought down kingdoms by the hundreds- her heart still has it in her to bleed for someone as pretty as the lady on table. No one deserves to cry from pain.
I’m sorry.
“Hey, you.” Victoria leans against the door leading to the garden, arms crossed with her staff hangs off one free hand. A crow on her shoulder while the usual white deer beside her walks towards the lady- Natalya, she finds out a week after the woman woke up from her magic-induced coma- offering it's small head for some pats. “When are you leaving?”
It’s been months since Natalya ended up in her care. The first few days were just plain horrible, having to tie the injured runaway princess to her bed to avoid her from running off and risk more injuries and infection. It took her a while to explain and calm her down to make her thick head understand that Victoria isn’t there to hurt her and frankly-
She was the one disturbing her rest and not the other way around.
However, she never really understood how this and that happened and evolved to having Natalya stay with her for almost… a month now? Or is it two months? Time is nothing in the forest and whatever letters, that usually informs her of what date it is, enters her domain automatically gets burned- especially if it’s from Alice and her brother. At first, she let Natalya stay only for her grave injuries and when those heal- Victoria would kick her out. She didn’t want to involve herself in any kingdoms’ politics and get put into any tight positions. Both as a Witch and as one of the founders of the City of Magic.
Victoria doesn’t want any trouble at the end of the day.
But a stay which was supposed to only last three-five days turned into a week, Natalya looking pitiful without any clothes or items to her name. Arthur did always say she has a soft spot for people like her- lost and afraid and confused in this huge wide world of theirs. From a week, it turned into two weeks and now Victoria needs to put her foot down and ask the other to leave-
Natalya has already overstayed her welcome.
Going back to the absolutely nerve-wrecking conversation they are about to have, Victoria steels her guts and her gaze. Slowly, she watches Natalya stands up from the ground where she was squatting nearby, a watering can in one hand while the other scratches the deer by her side.
If Victoria thought Natalya was beautiful inside the house, covered with dirt and leaves and injuries stinking of dark magic and underlying curses, then the image it makes in her head is nothing compared to seeing Natalya out in the open. Surrounded by the red roses she painstakingly, dressed in a simple robe Victoria vaguely remembers receiving as a gift from a diplomat from a country beyond the sea, and her hair shining, tied together with a purple ribbon. She is beautiful beyond words but regardless of how beautiful Natalya is-
Enough is enough and she misses her alone time.
“Leaving?” Natalya stares at her blankly, looking a tad bit confused with her eyebrows furrowed and her lips turned downwards. “What?”
As it pains Victoria to say this, she does have to say it. “When are you leaving?” She asks again, pointing out to the forest. “Like out there. Back to civilizations and not-” she waves her arms around her, gesturing to the animals and to the cottage and to the large land filled with dark flora “-here.”
There is nothing… wrong about here exactly. Victoria loves this place, it has been her home since the moment she decided to get away from the city and her family. The creatures of the land become her companions, the flowers greet her with a hello and a bloom and the sky is bluer without the taint of humankind. Except, Natalya isn’t her and Victoria never really dealt with someone in her space.
‘Like a dragon intent in keeping it's hoard close,’ her brother once describe her as and she does have to agree with the sentiment.
She never liked it with someone near her- especially the likes of royalty or strangers.
“I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Ah. Victoria looks away, shame burning through her veins and an understanding of what it feels like. “Return to the kingdom where you first came from.” She offers. “I’ll even give you a ride there-”
“I can’t.”
What does she meant by she can’t? Victoria pushes herself off the doorway and into the garden. “What do you mean you can’t? You’re their princess- you’re even the splitting image of his majesty the king.” She wasn’t all too familiar with the king of Zima’s winter-lands but she received the opportunity to meet him once, as a diplomat of the city of Aarkein, for relations and trade.
“... I died.” Ho? She gestures for the other woman to continue. “You’re a mage aren’t you-”
“Witch.” Victoria quickly corrects. “I’m not a mage. I’m a witch. There’s a difference even if we’re both magic-users.”
Natalya gives her a stare. ‘Really now?’ when she’s about to tell her the reason of why she can’t return back to the palace. Victoria coughs into her hand, a bit ashamed at having to correct the other.
“Please continue.” She says, her words followed by a sigh from the princess.
“You’re a witch-” looks like Natalya wasn’t fond of being corrected. Neither would Victoria but she stands corrected. “And you saw me without my…” Her cheeks flushed, the color stark against her pale skin. “My clothes and you saw what I am.”
She says it like it’s a bad thing which it is. Whoever casted the ritual at her is stupid, cruel and even foul in her books for damning a human being to such a fate. Whoever it is, Victoria already put them on a small notebook in her head and scratches it again and again with red ink. Again and again and again until it bleeds through the page.
Magic is not meant to break the laws of the world.
“A doll.” She crosses her arms in front of her, her staff hitting the brim of her hat. “A human doll with a human soul but an inhuman body. I reckon whoever did that to you hates you as much to curse you into a life where you’ll never be able to grow.” or die or live or experience all the things that makes a human, human.
“She did it because she loves me.” Natalya bristles, snarling at her from the accusation Victoria gives her. “She did it because she didn’t want me to die and now she’s being persecuted for—"
"Using magic against the laws." She ends it, looking down at the ground. Zima is part of the alliance she and her family painstakingly created to let witches and magic-practioners do what they wish to do and not let them suffer the same fates as they had. “A dark dark magic that goes against the very rules of what has been agreed upon by the Kingdoms and by Mother Magic.” The agreement was created to keep peace and to stop bloodshed, especially the bloodshed of those of the more magical kind.
“But that’s not what I’m asking. When are you going back-”
“I can’t.” Natalya looks at her, hands tight against her dress. “I can’t go back. I have no where to go. If I go back then… Katya would die-”
Katya? Yekatrina of Zima? The Duchess? She did that to her own sister? Victoria didn’t know what to do with the information. It was far too much- there must be something more underneath it and she doesn’t really want anything to do with it. Zima has one of the most bloodiest history concerning magic-practioners, those who tries to even show magic will end up getting hanged.
Or worse, slaved to the actricosy and used as nothing more than entertainment.
It came from such a long long way with the alliance of the City however to think one of their own royalty was a practitioner-
“The people would wreck havoc.” She murmurs underneath her breathe. “To go and behead her highness if the masses were to find out that one of their own is a magic practitioner.” Her eyes flickers to Natalya who nods. “And not just any magic practitioner but an active one.”
And someone who went against the agreements.
“I can’t go back.” Natalya insists, her voice cracking.
“You can’t go back.” Victoria echoes. If she goes back then- not just her, even Yekatrina would end up in trial, losing not only the support of the city but it might bring upon the first war of the new era.
A war none of them can afford to have.
“...”
A silence befalls them, Victoria contemplating what to do with Natalya. She can’t possibly let a defenseless woman out there and she can’t possibly bring her to the city or else she might get caught. She knows what her brother thinks of those who disobeys the rules and he is not kind as rumors tries to paint him to be. Rule-breakers would have wished they did not step inside his holy city.
…
Turning around her heel, she gestures Natalya to come in. “You can stay.” Just until she can call in some favors to have someone take the princess in, or solve the situation. “But I expect you to work around the house.”
Or not. Some things are easily solved with magic after all.
Living with someone… is something Victoria had to get used to again after years of living alone, no longer accompanied by the constant shadow of his brother and the warmth Alice would bring to their little abode when they were still together.
Natalya is nothing like Arthur who had the habit of sneaking out and coming back in the morning covered in feathers and potentially blood. She was also nothing like Alice who would dance and sing far too early in the morning to be considered as a sane person. But, maybe it was those differences which made it easier to live with her. That and the constant cleaning she seems to be able to do.
Always cleaning and cleaning— only pausing to cook. How is a princess able to do all those things?
Victoria only figures that Yekaterina trained her for it. Did the duchess think so far into the future? Wasn't so sure and it's not like Victoria's complaining. She gets to eat meals which aren't grilled fish or just stew. Homemade food is always welcomed, even if the tastes are… still a bit unfamiliar on her tongue.
It was better than herbs and branches.
Victoria stares at Natalya rather intently while her staff taps on the floor in a hypnotic rhythm. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. With each flick of Natalya's book, it would be followed by three spaced out concessions of tapping. She steadily meets the other's gaze, stopping only with her tapping when she hears a book being closed.
"..."
"..."
An awkward silence befalls them.
"We're heading out." Victoria turns around, fanning her face with the rim of her hat before putting it on. She didn't wait to see if Natalya heard her or if the woman had noticed the flush on her face. It’s not her fault she’s quite weak against anyone pretty. Both her brother and a couple of their acquaintances used to joke that if she were to meet a fae, she might just drop anything to do what they wish.
Something she loudly protests. She's not stupid.
"Where to?" As expected of a tall person, Natalya managed to quickly fall in her steps with a couple of strides. From the corner of her eye, she spots the other wearing another one of Alice's old dresses— one the prophetess used to buy but never wore, and never once gotten rid of it— and grudgingly, she does have to admit it was the perfect fit for the princess.
From a waist-belt that hugged tightly and snug, probably to keep the skirt from flying out to the top which provided enough coverage to keep the pale-skinned woman from burning underneath the sun. Something Victoria does relate to. She does have to hand it to Alice, she knows what to buy when it comes to fashion.
"Around." Victoria mysteriously shares, pulling down on her hat over her eyes as she steps over the door. The bells on her staff twinkles with the wind.
"Where around?" Natalya casts a shadow over her easily.
She says nothing in return but points to the forest, her staff's gem lights up alongside the sun. Without any hesitation, she walks towards where her staff is pointing, holding it like a blade made of rare metals rather than the bone staff it really is. Victoria can easily hear their footsteps echo, the cracks of the branches and the chirps of the birds. Noise and life are amplified by her staff, always guiding her by the hand to a place she needs to go in this forest she learned to call her own. Her own heartbeats dances alongside with those of the wind and the ground, twirling with the small laughter of the residents and she, unfamiliar, almost stopped when she heard another thump and skips of that belong to another being—
Natalya's heartbeat loud in her ears as they walk together. The princess sticking close to her side, hesitant and somewhat afraid of the forest, and yet her heart was loud and clear. A melodic sound which Victoria would never expect coming from someone overwhelmingly covered with dark magic but it is. Like fresh spring water after a long season of winter- it was clear.
“Are you going to feed me to a beast?” The question breaks the beauty and Victoria paused, turning around- and almost hitting the princess with the tip of her staff if not for her quick reflexes-- to raise an eyebrow and put one hand on her waist.
“What?”
“Feed me to a beast?”
“Pardon? Where could you even possibly get that idea?” She needed someone to carry her potion ingredients and she can’t possibly leave Natalya alone in a house with artifacts that might end up killing her with one wrong move. Still, the question might be the most absurd thing she has ever heard!
And believe me- she questioned her brother more than ten times when he said he’s going to marry Alice then questioned Alice when she found out she said yes to the proposal.
“Don’t witches…” sacrifices people?
Without needing to hear the full sentence, Victoria sighed loudly. So loud she can feel it echo through the trail. “It’s been outlawed for a long time.” And banned for a reason, she adds to herself. Those who sacrifices humans- lives to anything… often live dangerous lives and they have to pay quite a heavy price for the power they wish to achieve. Something Victoria rather not pay. She’s powerful enough without the help of another person.
“And I don’t think the Lady of the Forest would love being sacrificed to. She’s… a peace-loving lady.” She lies. The Lady of the Forest, Mother of all those who dwells in her domain, is simply lazy. Too lazy to bother standing up from her special spot in the innermost heart of the grounds and leaving all of her responsibilities to Victoria. “We’re going gathering.” She finally answers.
“Gathering?” Natalya tilts her head, hands behind her back. Her eyes flickers from one side to the other before settling down on a spot above Victoria’s head.
“Gathering.” She repeats. “For potions and for salves- I wasted my salve on you and to try and cleanse the darkness lingering on you.”
She was running empty and that doesn’t sit well in her stomach. What if there’s an emergency? One of the elves deep within the secret caves needing more than what they can use? A fae looking for a favor in exchange for the salve? Or someone else, her eyes looks at Natalya’s face, who needs help.
“And you can’t stay inside my house alone.” She explains, going back to walking to the meadow she first needs to be in to gather the petals of flowers she needs. It would be more ideal if she were to just plant her own near her area but- she finds her potions tends to be more better and last longer if they were nurtured by the wind and the sun and the rain itself without any human interaction.
“You might burn my house down.” Another lie.
“I won’t.”
“You can.” But she won’t, Victoria knows. “And I rather not take the risk. I grew up in that house.”
Natalya didn’t answer. Or maybe she did and it was lost in the wind, brought upon the spring morning. Or Victoria lost herself in the memories brought upon on having another walk by her side.
For once, a long long time ago, she had someone by her side. Traveling around the world to search for a home, looking for a way in the darkness of witch hunts and death. Chased away by the humans who sees them as demons and-
Once, a long long time ago- the house didn’t used to be as quiet as it is now. Always filled with laughter and life, people coming in and out, all of different statuses and different stories to tell. Once, but once has been enough for her.
Arriving at the meadow, she expected to see flowers and it is flowers she sees but her eyes were first attracted to the random red and black blob floating towards them- no. Floating might not be the right word for it. She stands in front of Natalya, staff armed and ready to smack whatever is rushing towards them in such a speed back to where it comes from.
“Stay.” She murmurs behind her, eyes narrowing and waiting.
“I’m not a dog-” no. She is not. If she was, maybe Victoria might be kinder to her.
“Do you want to get killed?” Natalya can’t die but still, the feeling of dying is not pleasant and there are many fates much worse than death.
As the blob approaches, she can hear something echo. Blinking a bit confused, she leans forward, bending her knees to meet it half-way in case. If this might end up as a chase, she would rather not bring it to her home. Or deeper in the forest.
“Talyssa.” She hears Natalya whispers, voice mixed with something unfamiliar and soft. Without her knowing, the other already crossed her outstretched arm acting as a barrier. To her surprise- she sees tears in her eyes, genuine tears and an emotion she can only see as a mix of relief and heartbreak.
“Talyssa?” Victoria echoes. A name? Unfamiliar to her but at the same time, she gets the nagging feeling she’s supposed to know the name.
“Talyssa.” Natalya repeats, taking another step forward and then another and then another and another and it wasn’t soon before she was running. “Talyssa! Talyssa!” A name shouted so joyously Victoria almost felt jealous.
Almost.
And she did not have her heart break at the sight of Natalya crashing onto the blob right in the middle of the forest. She absolutely did not. She does not have the emotions of the thing you called love towards Natalya. They simply known each other for a few months and-
Beautiful. Her thoughts stopped, pausing to halt at the sight of Natalya being carried to the sky by a dark-haired woman covered in head to toe in black and red fabrics. Their own staff strapped behind her hazardously and from where Victoria stands, the sun shines down upon them fondly. Flowers framing together as wind makes the petals of white and purple dance in the air.
She feels like she's intruding in something… private. Something she wasn't supposed to see and she takes a step back. Then another and she ran (like a coward) at the sight of the two pressing their lips together.
Ran and ran— ingredients be damned.
As always, Victoria had no place in the sweet reunion. (Just like how she never has a place in anywhere)
