Work Text:
Clutching a wooden sword to her chest, Laura slid through the remains of the run-down gate and sprinted towards the forest. Her bare feet pounded against the mud, escaping from her so called brother. If she had to spend another afternoon listening to Theo bragging about how one day he’d be the one to pull the sword from the stone and save the kingdom then her brain was going to explode.
She spent enough time taking care of the horses, helping the blacksmith, and running around the castle to waste her free time on him. Not that anyone had much free time.
Times were too tough to waste much of it.
So she sprinted to the forest, unstopping as she entered the dense mess of trees. Her adoptive father was constantly warning them of bandits scouring the land. With no king, he claimed, they had no defence except the crumbling castle walls. The old king and his wife had died years ago and her father had served in his court, often talking of a glory age of prosperity that was nothing like the darkness they now found themselves in.
Only the sword and the one who’d wield it could save them.
But Laura couldn’t resist the forest and what lay inside of it. Even with no clear path, it was one she’d walked a hundred times before. Laura swung the sword as she ran, battling invisible enemies and whirling to knock the low lying branches off the trees.
A small cottage came into view, tucked between two large oaks. Laura grinned and banged on the door.
“Carm!” she called, “I’ve got a whole two hours today. So we can read your books and still practice swords!” She banged on the door again. Almost smacking Carmilla in the face when it opened.
Even with two years on Laura’s eighteen, sleepy Carmilla always looked so young. Her hair was disheveled as she stretched and glared at Laura, “Must you always come so early?”
Beautiful.
“It’s past lunch,” Laura said, swallowing her butterflies, she shoved past Carmilla and into the cottage, “Get dressed. You’re wasting sunlight.”
“There’s this wonderful invention called candles. It means the sun doesn’t matter,” Carmilla said. Still, she disappeared further into the cottage back into what Laura knew was the bedroom. Bouncing on her toes, Laura was happy to wait. The cottage was a magical place. So long as she kept her sword to herself and Carmilla was nearby, she could look at it for hours.
In fact, it was literally magical.
When Carmilla had shown up in the village five years before, Laura had been confused as to how she could possibly live alone in the woods. She’d spent weeks trying to break her way in or even peek through the windows. The first time she’d even gotten close, an entire storm of books had nearly taken her head off.
Totally worth it because even though Carmilla may have spent the whole time practically growling at her as she pulled the books off Laura, it was her first real conversation with the mysterious girl. It had taken another year to get in the door but now looking over and seeing the dishes wash themselves seemed like the most common thing in the world. Milk churned itself into butter. The spindle, which she had once made the mistake of touching and napped for two days before waking up to Carmilla standing over her with glowing fingers, made it’s own yarn.
“Hurry up!” Laura yelled, “It’s a beautiful day. You need to at least breathe the air once.”
“The air in here is just as good,” Carmilla shouted back.
“Fresh air!” Laura insisted.
One of the books dislodged from its stack and dropped on her head.
“Real mature, Carm!” Laura shouted as she heard Carmilla snicker in the bedroom.
The cottage was jammed with books. Towers and towers of pages that were somehow never dusty and never organized. Yet Carmilla still seemed to know where each one belonged. Astronomy. Herbology. History. Magical lore. Philosophy. The topics seemed to never end. She’d convinced Carmilla to let her read some of the combat and strategy books but even on her her best days, she could come nowhere near what Carmilla could read.
Even if Carmilla didn’t cheat and use magic.
Carmilla came out of the bedroom with two books floating around her head.
“Here!” Laura shoved a hunk of cheese and meat into Carmilla’s hands. Food was one of the few things Carmilla couldn’t conjure and Laura had gotten in the habit after she realized that Carmilla wasn’t feeding herself properly. Using her now empty hand, Laura latched on Carmilla’s wrist and dragged her outside.
Wrists were safe. Friends grabbed wrists all the time.
“Slow down there, cupcake,” Carmilla protested. Yet, her feet easily chased after Laura and there was no resistance in the arm as Laura tugged her along.
Laura yanked her out the door, “what do you think I should work on today?”
“Your form is still atrocious,” Carmilla offered.
Once, Carmilla’s words would have bothered Laura. Now she knew better. Now, the twinkle in Carmilla’s eye was obvious to her. “You don’t even know how to sword fight,” Laura said.
“I’ve read books,” Carmilla said, pulling a third book from somewhere in her dress.
“You can’t save the world from inside a book!” Laura said. She let go off Carmilla’s wrist when they reached the biggest oak tree and bounded over the practice gear she kept stashed in the woods, “Do you think you could at least hold the pads? I know you hate it but it’s way better to have another person than whacking at the scarecrow again because you can move and it’s more like a real fight. And i promise that we can just read books after. Even though that’s all you do. I’ll be quiet and everything!”
“Why don’t I animate Kirsch today?” Carmilla said. Voice calm as if she’d said nothing of interest.
Laura dropped the pads immediately, “What? Really!” She couldn’t stop the grin from cracking across her face and it only grew when she got a small smile from Carmilla.
“Sure cupcake,” Carmilla said, “Why not.”
Then she flicked her wrist and muttered something under her breath. Across the yard, a collection of seemingly scrap junk burst into the air. It quickly formed a humanoid shape made of metal and wood and shiny pieces of glass. In its hands was a stick sword and a wooden shield.
“Thank you!” Laura flung herself at Carmilla and hugged her neck, “I know it takes a lot of magic and it’s really a waste and you probably just want to read without me interrupting you but just thank you!” Carmilla’s hands came up to briefly clasp at her waist. Touch tentative.
“Have fun, cupcake,” Carmilla said and settled on the ground under the tree, opening a book seemingly at random.
Settling her face into a determined expression, Laura twirled the sword in her fingers. She faced off against the animated man. ‘Kirsch’, as Laura had named him, had come to life a few years ago when Carmilla wanted to practice an animation spell. Laura had immediately been intrigued as Carmilla struggled to make the improvised man do a series of mundane tasks. When Carmilla’s magic had grown, Laura had suggested seeing how long she could hold him.
It only made sense to use the opportunity for a real sparring partner.
Kirsch moved quickly and Laura focused on maintaining her form as she matched his strikes.
From the corner of her eye, she could see Carmilla. Normally Carmilla kept her nose in the books while Laura practiced, only looking up when Laura wrestled Carmilla’s eyes away to get a comment on her form or help with her swing. Today, it felt like Carmilla was watching Laura. Her best friend’s eyes practically glued to her every move.
Laura set her feet a little stronger, determined to show off.
She ducked and parried, going through her routine before instructing Kirsch to improvise a real fight simulation. Smiling, she threw in an extra spin and hit Kirsch in the back. The wood of her sword setting a clang against his metal rod spine. Carmilla’s eyes stayed on her. A book was propped up on her lap but not once to Laura see her turn a page.
It was with Carmilla in her peripheral that Laura got smacked in the face. She wasn’t even surprised. Laura knew she wasn’t paying attention.
Impossible to focus on anything when you have a crush on your best friend and said best friend is staring at you with something unfathomable on her face.
Pain radiated across her face as she dropped, starting in her nose and extending across her cheekbones.
“Laura!” There was a soft hand on her face and a thumb sweeping over her face, “Laura.” Carmilla repeated, “Look at me.”
Laura groaned and opened her eyes. Carmilla hovered over her, dark hair cascading over her shoulders to skim across Laura’s shoulders. Raising a hand to her nose, Laura groaned when it made contact. Blood staining the tops of her fingertips.
Carmilla covered Laura’s fingers with her own hand, “Don’t touch that.”
“It’ll be fine,” Laura said, ignoring her headache, “It happens.”
“Not today.” Carmilla huffed. Her hand left Laura’s to trace a soft line down the bridge of Laura’s nose. Words in a language Laura couldn’t understand poured from her lips. Hand now free, Laura twined her fingers in the bottom of Carmilla’s hair.
She accidently yanked down when something in her nose snapped and the pain exploded for a second time.
Laura and Carmilla yelped at the same time.
“Careful, cupcake,” Carmilla said, captured Laura’s hand again and removing it from her hair. “Can’t speak for my scalp but your nose should be fine.”
Laura wiggled the appendage in question, testing it and relieved to find no pain at the action. In fact, the faintest smile appeared on Carmilla’s face when she scrunched it. Then Carmilla rolled her eyes, “I may not be a master yet but I’m insulted that you don’t think I know what I’m doing.”
“I’ve never had someone magic my nose before,” Laura said and sat up, “You know you don’t have to waste it on me, Carm. I’d be fine. Wasn’t the first time I’ve busted my nose.”
Carmilla’s smile tightened even though her voice stayed light. Too light. “With your clumsiness? I’m not surprised.”
Laura decided not to mention Theo and his propensity to play a little rough.
“That’s me!” She chirped, “Clumsy but still the world’s best knight.” She leapt to her feet but teetered slightly, “Whoa. Maybe I should sit down.”
“Laura Hollis sitting? Miracles do happen,” Carmilla said but kept her hand on the small of Laura’s back, guiding her to the tree. Laura flopped to the ground as Carmilla sat gracefully beside her. She closed her eyes against the spinning world.
“Read me something?” Laura asked.
Normally, she’d have to weasel and beg for Carmilla to read aloud. Today, Carmilla picked up the book without a comment. Laura folded her hands across her stomach. She had no idea what Carmilla was talking about but the cadence of her voice was always comforting. A rough sound rolling underneath the pristine pronunciation that somehow wrapped Laura up like a cozy blanket and made her feel safe. She shimmied slightly, pressing her hip against Carmilla’s.
Carmilla didn’t move away.
Laura only had the warmth of the sun on her face to tell her that the time was passing. Somewhere around an hour, Carmilla’s voice slowed and the book closed with a soft thump. Then her hand came down to run briefly through Laura’s hair, brushing it off her forehead.
“Laura?” Carmilla said.
Laura just hummed in response, eyes still shut.
“I have to leave tomorrow and I don’t know if I’m coming back.”
Laura’s eyes opened.
#
Carmilla had told her not to see her off but the horse’s hooves pounded the ground as Laura left her small town, racing towards the nearest city. She sat high on his back, basically standing and wishing that she could somehow make the horse go faster.
Her father was going to be so mad. She might as well maximize her time to say goodbye.
Just getting away from Theo had been harder than she’d expected after her begging Carmilla to stay had taken most of the night. All she’d gotten from Carmilla was that it was time for her to go and finish her studies. That her time here was done. That she had more work to do.
Carmilla had sat and listened as Laura had tried to give her a hundred reasons not to leave. She’d just sat and taken it. Her eyes locked on Laura as she paced up and down in front of Carmilla, trying to convince her to stay. She should have known that she’d never change Carmilla’s mind.
She gotten through 53 reasons why Carmilla couldn’t leave when the 54th had fallen from her mouth, “I’ll miss you because, well, you know.”
I’ll miss you. Laura had said.
You know. Laura had said.
For a second, she’d thought that Carmilla’s eyes had widened. That she’d finally gotten a reaction. That maybe, just maybe, Carmilla’s eyes had watered.
But maybe Carmilla hadn’t known.
Because all she’d gotten was a hasty, “I have to go, cupcake. You’ll be great.” Then Carmilla had disappeared in a cloud of smoke, leaving Laura alone.
She wasn’t standing for that. Thus, the borrowed horse and the frantic journey to where Laura knew Carmilla had to stop.
The sword. The sword in the stone.
Carmilla had once told her that her magic was somehow related to the famed nameless sword. She wouldn’t say how. She wouldn’t say why. But Laura had done her own digging and the stone had been moved to the nearest city around the same time that Carmilla had shown up. If Carmilla was going anywhere before leaving, it was to the sword.
They said that the one who pulled the sword from the stone was the next king. The one destined to pull them from the darkness and defeat the great evil that had taken over the land. Laura believed it. Carmilla did not.
But either way, Carmilla had magic and so did the sword.
Laura gripped the reins tighter, trying not to feel like she was grasping at straws. The countryside poured past, more brown than green and echoing with a tired silence that was all she’d ever known. Still, the lack of sound coiled empty in her stomach.
Better to focus on Carmilla.
She’d been to the city a few time but had only ever glimpse the stone from a distance. Regardless, it was easy to find as she leapt off the horse and threw the reins to the nearest stablehand. The white rock of the stone practically gleamed as it sat in the central marketplace, a circle of equally white stone forming a platform around it. From its center, a large sword rose with its pommel pointed to the sky. Even in the rock, the sword was nearly as tall as Laura. Clearly designed for a massive man to yield.
It was mostly left alone, those who were interested had already tried their hand. Only the occasional far-off traveller bothered to try pulling on the sword. None had met with success. Most of the townspeople didn’t bother looking over.
When the sword had first arrived, five years back, it had suddenly appeared in the night. The town previous sending a message days later that the sword and its stone were gone.
Laura ran towards the sword then deviated when she got close. She tugged on the arm of a nearby shopkeeper, “Have you seen a girl?” she asked, “Pale skin, black hair. Probably a black dress with a hooded robe. Absolutely beautiful. Lots of books.”
The shopkeeper laughed, “Kid, if I saw a girl like that you can be assured that I wouldn’t be sharing her.”
Laura didn’t like the look in his eye, “she’s magic.” Laura added.
That cut the lust from his stare. “Haven’t seen any of those,” he drawled the last word, “now leave me be.”
Laura nodded, skipping back. Her foot passed onto the white stone platform of the sword and something in her stomach practically rolled. She leapt in the opposite direction, one hand on her stomach and the other on her empty sword belt. Something in the stone had felt positively slimey.
It didn’t feel like Carmilla’s magic at all.
Each step away made her feel a little better so Laura kept going, her eyes on the crowd for any glance of Carmilla. She let her feet guide her, staying away from white stones and the sword.
Eventually she found herself in a small alcove just outside the square. The stone roads here were a darker grey and ivy grew atop rotting wooden fences. From what Laura could tell, it was an old garden next to a rundown small stone church. Grass poked between the vaguely cobbled path, winding between trees and grapevines that hadn’t offered grapes in years.
It hardly mattered.
Because even covered in a flowing black robe, she knew the figure standing to the side anywhere.
“Carm!” Laura shouted and bolted towards her.
Carmilla turned when Laura was still a few paces away, her eyes wide and mouth open before she quickly composed them. Something scarlet burned in her irises and Laura picked up speed, “Oh no you don’t!” she shouted and threw herself at Carmilla before should could poof away again.
They both crashed to the ground. Laura’s hands grasped at the fabric of Carmilla’s travel robe, uncaring that the fall dislodged Carmilla’s hood.
“You don’t just get to poof from conversations!” Laura said. She’d meant it to be forceful but something quavered in her voice. “You don’t just get to do that! Not to me. Not to me, Carmilla.” Her fingers tightened their grip, even as she looked away from the girl now locked under her, “I thought we- I’m worth more than that. To you. I thought. Please. A real goodbye.”
Carmilla’s voice was empty, “I can’t breathe, cupcake.”
Laura scrambled backwards, sliding off Carmilla but refusing to let go. Using her shoulder to brush aside angry tears, she yanked Carmilla to her feet. “Fine. There you go. Breathing.” Laura said. She didn’t know whether she wanted to pull Carmilla closer or shove her away. “But we’ve been… us for five years and you can’t just disappear on me in the middle of night.”
“I didn’t just disappear. I told you.” Carmilla’s hands were at her sides, fingers fidgeting with the air but never stepping away.
“Oh. yes. Thank you.” Laura stole Carmilla’s usual sarcasm before the other girl could get there, “Saying ‘I have to leave’, giving me some vague reason, and then poofing away in the middle of our conversation was an excellent goodbye.”
“It’s the best goodbye I have,” Carmilla said.
“Well it’s not enough!” Laura shouted, “You didn’t even say the word goodbye. Is that so hard? No. It’s not. Because you just said it. Did you think I’d make you stay? Because I wouldn’t. I’d want you to but I’d understand. As long as you said goodbye and told me why. Whatever that was, that non conversation wasn’t enough. Not for me. Not for us.”
“It’s not enough?” The burn was back in Carmilla’s eyes but Laura’s fingers were still holding her tight, “I spent days trying to figure out exactly what to say to you. I always leave. You know that. I told you that. Two or three years and then I’m gone. Five years? Practically unheard of.”
“Well, maybe you should have left sooner,” Laura fought the block in her throat, “would have hurt less.”
Laura had never heard Carmilla’s voice shake before but there it was, “Maybe I should have. Instead, I was a fool and fought to stay longer. Fought for every extra day.” She shoved Laura’s hands off of her and took a step back. Frozen, Laura let her go. “Do you know how many goodbye’s I’ve given when I leave? How many warnings? None. None. Laura,” Carmilla pressed a hand on her mouth, leaving Laura’s name hanging in the air. A word Carmilla rarely said. The hand fell away, “Just you, Laura. Just you.”
Laura said Carmilla’s goodbye wasn’t enough.
And yet.
To Carmilla it had somehow been everything.
Laura moved forward, quickly filling the space that Carmilla had made and grabbing her robes again. She pushed Carmilla blindly, propelling Carmilla towards the center of the garden until she was pressed up against a large, rough-cut stone. She stared at Carmilla, eyes on her face and catching the glimmer of tears on top of the magical fire that always burned red in brown eyes. Laura wasn’t sure if she was breathing but she could feel every small hitch in Carmilla’s breathing touch her lips.
Carmilla’s hand surprised her, coming up so a single thumb could brush the tears that Laura had tried to wipe away.
“I’m sorry I made you cry,” Carmilla offered. “I didn’t realize it would matter to you.”
Laura shook her head, a smile on her lips that she couldn’t tell the reason for.
So she kissed Carmilla. Kissed her hard and fast, swallowing Carmilla’s gasp into her own mouth. Her lips were chapped and soft and everything all at the same time. A moment’s pause that quickly gave way to Carmilla’s lips moving against her own. Pushing back just as hard while letting Laura keep her pressed against the rock.
They broke apart for just a moment, eyes on each other, before Carmilla kissed her in return.
Laura let go of Carmilla’s robes, trusting her lips to keep Carmilla from disappearing. She snaked one arm behind Carmilla and the rock bit into her skin. The other hand disappeared into Carmilla’s hair and buried itself into soft waves that Laura had only ever let herself touch the tails of. Now her fingers curled into the soft hairs at the nape of Carmilla’s neck while her lips brushed back and forth.
Until she smiled.
She ruined the kiss by smiling too hard but somehow that didn’t seem to ruin it at all. Even better was the small laugh that burst from Carmilla’s mouth.
“That,” Laura whispered into her mouth, “Is how you say goodbye.”
“I’d rather it be how you said hello,” Carmilla said and pecked at her lips.
Laura still couldn’t control her smile, “Why don’t we make it, ‘i’ll see you again’.”
“Who cares,” Carmilla said. She grabbed Laura around the waist and yanked her in. Laura made an undignified yelp, both of her hands slamming onto the rock behind Carmilla to avoid toppling as Carmilla kissed her again. When she pulled back to catch her breath, Laura’s eyes widened. The rock behind Carmilla was glowing a pale blue, creating a halo around Carmilla’s dark, messy hair.
If Laura could have fit any more butterflies in her stomach, they would have shown up.
She smiled and shook her head, “I’d heard that kisses are magical but that’s a little much, Carm.”
“What?” Carmilla asked. Eyes still locked on Laura.
Laura nodded towards the rock behind Carmilla’s head. Carmilla turned but her gaze stayed on Laura until they darted to the side, then came back. Then Carmilla froze in Laura’s arms. She could feel Carmilla stiffen and her breath catch. Carmilla’s head whipped back around, one hand gripping onto Laura’s waist while the other hovered just over the rock. She held it there.
Frowning, Laura craned her neck to see around Carmilla. The rock was glowing blue but within the stone a circular pattern had lit up. Three circles intersecting each other at various points. Something seemed to glint slightly from the top of the rock but she couldn’t see much else from behind Carmilla. Instead, she looked around the garden. As she watched, a yellow flower blossomed next to her head. Turning from a bud to a bloom before her eyes.
“Wow,” she said, “Your magic is so cool.”
She felt Carmilla’s hand land rather than seeing it. The cool hand pressed down on top of Laura’s, her hand still pressed tight against the rock from where she’d been kissing Carmilla. Carmilla’s palm to the back of Laura’s hand, the fingers slotting together.
A faint, “No,” that was more breath than word broke from Carmilla’s mouth.
Then Laura found her hand snatched off the rock and pressed to Carmilla’s chest as she was pushed away from the rock and straight out of the garden.
“Laura, I need you to go home. Now.” Carmilla said.
She thought about objecting but Carmilla was still standing close, her hand on Carmilla’s chest. “What’s wrong?” Laura asked instead.
“I have to go,” Carmilla said. She still made no move to let go of Laura hand. Just staring at her. Staring like she’d seen a ghost.
“What’s wrong, Carm?” Laura asked again.
“I can’t tell you,” Carmilla said. There was a finger covering Laura’s mouth before she could even open her mouth, “I know. You hate that.” Carmilla said, “But please. Trust me. Can you trust me?”
Laura nodded.
“I need you to get out of this city.” Carmilla said, “It’s not safe. Please. You need to leave. For me.”
“Okay.”
Carmilla could not have looked more surprised. Laura smiled even as the tears started to come back, “But promise me you’ll come back. Three years?” Laura offered, “You said that’s how long you usually stay at a place. So go. And then come back in three years.”
“Three years.” Carmilla repeated.
Then she pulled Laura in with her still joined hands, while the other crept up the side of her face, and kissed her. Kissed her like she was trying to say something. Kissed her with an urgency that Laura hadn’t expected.
She pulled back and pressed their foreheads together, “Of course it’s you.” Carmilla said.
Laura frowned, a question on her tongue.
Then Carmilla kissed her again, a fleeting peck that tasted like the words that came after it, “Goodbye Laura.”
Carmilla’s eyes burned red and the world shifted until Laura was standing in the middle of the little cottage in the woods. Alone. Carmilla’s books were gone and the dishes left in the sink were still.
Laura took a deep breath, steadying herself against the tears, “Three years, Carmilla,” she said to the wind, “or I’m going back to that garden by myself.”
Two days later word came that the stone and its sword were gone. White stone vanished as though it had never been there.
What no-one would mention was that in a nearby garden, a rugged stone and the rusted sword wedged inside it, still remained.
But who cared about what had always been there?
The only change a single yellow flower that never seemed to wilt.