So now that you have the chance, you're kept up by unfamiliar devices reminding you of troubling events.
Of course. I am on my way.
[And of course, true to his word, Alucard arrives with gentle knocking to her door. His state of dress is no different, only in that he lacks his sword and shield and seems to be better kept now. Slightly less disaster than before.]
[Thank goodness she'd had the foresight to pick up a robe to cover up with, when she'd been perusing the Noctian shops in search of pieces to pad out her current wardrobe a little. It's not long enough to cover her chemise entirely, but it'll do well enough to suffice — and it's better than getting all the way dressed again, just to greet her midnight guest at the door.
But even as tidied up and put-together as she can make herself on the relatively short notice, it's still fairly obvious that Rosella's been having a bad night, when she tugs the door open. She's got her hair braided simply back and tied off with a ribbon, but it's gone lopsided and rumpled from a fair amount of tossing and turning, and the beginnings of circles are threatening under her eyes.]
Good evening. ...Or is it morning, by now? Well, one or the other — do come in, Alucard.
[She says, as she tugs open the door and permits him entrance to her little apartment, where the kitchen light is on and the refrigerator is indeed humming and clunking as such things do, and at least one other lamp is lit all across the front room into the bedroom area, such that there's a definite path from one end of the apartment to the other, without Rosella having to set foot in shadow the whole way across.]
[She does look exhausted, but rightfully so for all that she's been through. A handful of days without much in the way of rest; any human would be exhausted. But she'd done it all for her loved ones. It's admirable how much she could accomplish.
He smiles crookedly at her.]
I suppose technically it's morning, but let's pretend it's still the night.
[Alucard slips inside easily.]
I had a thought. Which... you might find silly, but I wanted to offer. What if I were to tell you a story to help your mind become at ease? I would stay the night and ensure you are safe, of course.
[She shuts the door behind her, fingers still a little clumsy on the deadbolt latches as she accustoms herself to how they work. Alucard looks like he's been doing well, since they parted ways. Maybe that makes one of them.]
A story...?
[It's such a simple thing, to hit her so profoundly. He's just being kind, as she's come to understand him to be once one gets past his outwardly gruff and grumpy demeanor. And yet — and yet it's not just that he's offering kindness, is it, but the manner in which he's extending it. He'll tell her a story to set her mind at ease, which means he's guessed that such a thing even would help to settle her in the first place.
And the only way he could know that, suspect that, is if he'd bothered to care in the first place.
He's asked nothing of her. He's shown no motives or designs on her. He's certainly under no obligation to her. And yet — here he is, leaving the comforts of his own home and business in the dead of night just to come and stay and tell her a story because he thinks it might help her sleep.
It doesn't leave her weeping, right there at the door in the dim entry light, but it's an awfully close thing.]
It's not silly. And you're doing a terrible job at convincing me you're awful, I'll have you know.
[She rubs at her eyes, trying to pretend like she's just brushing sleep from them.]
Please, make yourself at home. Take either of the chairs or the larger sofa, and don't try on the little crown on the table near the window.
Oh, please. I'll have time yet to convince you of that. For now, let's worry about you getting some rest tonight, yes?
[...Little crown. All right. Now he's curious, but he can afford to ask another day. For now, he goes to offer his arm out to Rosella, as a gentleman would.
In the future, there is not much doubt in his mind that she may decide to change her mind. Maybe because of his deeds, which he does regret, leaving bodies hanging out into the sun for birds to peck away at and rot their warnings to possible visitors. Or perhaps because purely of his nature, his heritage.
This time, he could not begrudge someone for it. At least he will be expecting it. That still does not make her terrible, he decides. Just afraid.]
I'll make myself comfortable after I know you're close to sleep. To bed, or I shall nag you more.
gmail why you gotta do me like this i have THINGS to DO
[It's a little wobbly, but she does manage a laugh, and pulls her hands away from her eyes in favor of linking her arm neatly through Alucard's. It's eerily calming, to accept his offer like this; it makes a warmth settle around her that seems to chase away some of the apprehensions the darkness holds, dulling the edges of the unfamiliar sounds and freeing her thoughts up for drowsiness to take their place.]
Oh, you'll nag me, will you.
[Probably she ought to put up a little more resistance to the thought of letting a man put her to bed, but she's tired and Mother's objections are far, far away right now.
So she leads him into the apartment's single bedroom, which is surprisingly tidy if only because she really hasn't had much time to clutter it up yet, though there's pretty obviously a smattering of odds and ends shoved rather unceremoniously under her bed, presumably for safekeeping.
And yet even as plain as it is, it's equally evident that Rosella has at least tried to make it seem more homey and comfortable. There are cerulean blue ribbons tying back the curtains, and a plastic cup filled with sweet-smelling wildflowers perched on the desk near a book with a bookmark sticking out of it. It's still the sort of barebones typical of someone who's just recently taken up residence in it, but there are touches of a girl living there, too.
Even the bed smells faintly of lavender. The Yankee Candles may not have worked out, but evidently the potpourri sachets had been a different story.]
What sort of story did you have in mind? The tale of one of your adventures?
[It's still more character than his own apartment has, where he's left his sword and shield; the only other additions were scribbled notes of his studies of various machines throughout the city he's been observing, as well as a few doodles of no consequence. Suffice it to say, he finds more character in her apartment than his own.
He smiles almost fondly at the signs, especially the various items just shoved under her bed. Somehow, that does not surprise him with what he knows of her.]
Perhaps. A tale of a woman from a small village seeking out a powerful beast to gain his knowledge, or the story of the Sleeping Soldier who was fated to fight his own father. Something like that.
[She gives him a gentle but unceremonious push, making him look in the opposite direction as she drops his arm and climbs back into bed, settling the covers neatly around herself with as much dignity as she can muster.]
Tell me the one about the lady and the beast, she sounds brave and lovely. What sort of knowledge was she after?
[So proper, but he certainly cannot blame her for it. So, he turns his head away, giving her time to sort herself out in bed for a moment before he's pulling up a chair to sit near the bed.]
Well, she was looking for knowledge on how to become a physician for her village. Not a magician with healing powers mind you, but she wanted to learn more about medicine. There was but one being who had the ability to teach her: a frightening beast that all had come to fear, the King of the Night.
But you're right, she was very brave. Through the wasteland, she walked, passing by skeletons on pikes leading up to a giant castle. The fine lady was undeterred as she struck the pommel of her knife to the beast's door. Though she was no warrior, she would not be swayed from her quest.
[There are themes, she's growing to notice, in the sorts of topics that Alucard tends to talk about, when he's nudged to share things of himself. Doctors. The night, and the creatures that live in it. Soldiers. Hunters. Scholars. They're roles that fit together in ways that she's sure some of her own tales would as well — dragons, trolls, kings and queens. Princes. Peril.
But her imagination has always been a robust one, and she's always had a habit of casting herself as the heroine in the stories she's read and played out. In her mind's eye, the castle he describes takes the shape of the one in the Impossible Mountains in Tamir, and the village woman's dress becomes as red as the one she'd been given herself, in the interim.]
Well, to her, things were not as simple as "good" or "evil". The villager would see someone full of hate, and think to herself: "Ah, this is a person who is afraid of something. When you're afraid, maybe you can't completely mend or fix it, but you can still improve and become better." This is much in the way she looked at her own people, who were superstitious and full of fear of the harm in the world.
To her, this supposedly terrible beast must not be so completely monstrous to have knowledge to help people heal. Surely, there should be something she could do in return for him.
When the door opened, she went inside and found herself in a dark and mysterious hallway, the King of the Night shifting away in the shadows and mocking her at first, taking her for another person come to slay him. Instead, she called him rude and lacking in manners, stunning him.
[She sinks down a little further into her pillows, pulling her covers up to her chin.]
He was surprised that someone told him the truth, I take it. Or perhaps just that she talked to him at all. I don't know that I would've had the courage to, if I'd been in her place.
[Ah, the irony of it, honestly. Rosella called Alucard out earlier, after all. Not that she knows his nature, but still.]
I think you underestimate yourself. In any case, maybe it was a bit of both; to have a person talk to him as if he were a man instead of monster, or to be so blunt with him. Who would be so brave to do so after all?
But conversation is what they had, and she discovered that the castle was not just his home, but it was also a way to travel if he so desired -- but he simply had not for years he could not name.
Unable to help herself, she immediately told him to travel. Not with the castle, but as men do with their own feet, to see the world had changed since he had last seen it. Again, the King of the Night was surprised by her, but also found himself charmed. After all, in two minutes she had demanded to be taught knowledge, told him how rude he was, and then suggested he walk as a commoner.
Then I think he must have been rather a nice beast, at heart. Some wouldn't have found it so charming, to be bossed around in their own castle that way. Even if the lady did have a point.
[There's that feeling again — the familiarity. Like this is a story she ought to know already. Like there are pieces of it she's heard before, somehow.]
Was he enchanted, somehow? Is that why he'd locked himself away?
Not enchanted, though he was not human. He was tired and disappointed of the world, and only saw wickedness.
But then, this woman who barged into his home wanted to learn medicine to help people. There was no ulterior motive, just good intent. He did not know what to do with that, but was convinced that he would give her time to learn. In return, he promised to one day walk the world as a man, to experience it as a human would with their own two feet.
And how much easier it is to promise something to another when you fall in love, and surely he did on the day he let her into his castle.
[It's odd; even amid her delight at the introduction of love at first sight into the story, the way he's describing the beast makes the image she's been holding in her mind's eye grow vaguer in the details, some of the clarity blurring as indecision starts to take hold. She can't seem to decide what the beast should look like, she realizes eventually; the woman and the castle are clear as day in her envisioning, but she can't settle on a depiction of a charming yet inhuman king to lurk in the shadows around them.
Well, perhaps it's not so important. It's all but impossible to be afraid of trolls and apartment noises when she's so focused on the image of a beast, after all.]
Did she love him back? I hope she did. And not just for the knowledge he had, either, but really for himself.
She did. You see, she saw the best in him as well. His knowledge, his intellect, and though he was reluctant to empathize with many people she saw it only as fear -- not because of his beastliness. He was tired of the world, but she wanted him to see the potential of others the way she did.
In a way, they balanced each other. His caution and her impulsive nature to see the best in everything. How much learning both delighted them. Two pieces made whole. A beautiful thing was made.
[Surely the two of them were married, then. That's how stories like this go. And all of a sudden it occurs to her, the thing that's been nagging at her all this time.]
...You said your mother was a doctor. And your father a scholar.
[There's a question she's not asking, hanging off the end of that, but it's not exactly hard to guess.]
[Ah, he knows that Rosella is too bright for her own good. So he does not begrudge her conclusion, knowing full well that she could have reached it on her own.]
[It may not seem so, she thinks to herself, but maybe it's for the best that she asked. If she hadn't, her next question would've been and did they live happily ever after.]
That does sound beautiful. Finding one's other half.
[She turns onto her side, facing him with the covers still pulled up close beneath her chin.]
[His story certainly leaves her a lot to think about, but that's the last thing she wants to do right now, now that she's finally sleepy and relaxed enough in her environment that she might actually stand a chance of drifting off.
So she closes her eyes, burrowed down into her pillow, and almost doesn't reply except that in the end, drowsy manners win out.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Not in the least. I'll be by soon. If you wish to make it up to me, then I will not stop you.
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I do wish to. Knock, then, when you get here; I'll be up and waiting.
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Of course. I am on my way.
[And of course, true to his word, Alucard arrives with gentle knocking to her door. His state of dress is no different, only in that he lacks his sword and shield and seems to be better kept now. Slightly less disaster than before.]
no subject
But even as tidied up and put-together as she can make herself on the relatively short notice, it's still fairly obvious that Rosella's been having a bad night, when she tugs the door open. She's got her hair braided simply back and tied off with a ribbon, but it's gone lopsided and rumpled from a fair amount of tossing and turning, and the beginnings of circles are threatening under her eyes.]
Good evening. ...Or is it morning, by now? Well, one or the other — do come in, Alucard.
[She says, as she tugs open the door and permits him entrance to her little apartment, where the kitchen light is on and the refrigerator is indeed humming and clunking as such things do, and at least one other lamp is lit all across the front room into the bedroom area, such that there's a definite path from one end of the apartment to the other, without Rosella having to set foot in shadow the whole way across.]
no subject
He smiles crookedly at her.]
I suppose technically it's morning, but let's pretend it's still the night.
[Alucard slips inside easily.]
I had a thought. Which... you might find silly, but I wanted to offer. What if I were to tell you a story to help your mind become at ease? I would stay the night and ensure you are safe, of course.
no subject
A story...?
[It's such a simple thing, to hit her so profoundly. He's just being kind, as she's come to understand him to be once one gets past his outwardly gruff and grumpy demeanor. And yet — and yet it's not just that he's offering kindness, is it, but the manner in which he's extending it. He'll tell her a story to set her mind at ease, which means he's guessed that such a thing even would help to settle her in the first place.
And the only way he could know that, suspect that, is if he'd bothered to care in the first place.
He's asked nothing of her. He's shown no motives or designs on her. He's certainly under no obligation to her. And yet — here he is, leaving the comforts of his own home and business in the dead of night just to come and stay and tell her a story because he thinks it might help her sleep.
It doesn't leave her weeping, right there at the door in the dim entry light, but it's an awfully close thing.]
It's not silly. And you're doing a terrible job at convincing me you're awful, I'll have you know.
[She rubs at her eyes, trying to pretend like she's just brushing sleep from them.]
Please, make yourself at home. Take either of the chairs or the larger sofa, and don't try on the little crown on the table near the window.
screams in "gmail did not give me this notif"
[...Little crown. All right. Now he's curious, but he can afford to ask another day. For now, he goes to offer his arm out to Rosella, as a gentleman would.
In the future, there is not much doubt in his mind that she may decide to change her mind. Maybe because of his deeds, which he does regret, leaving bodies hanging out into the sun for birds to peck away at and rot their warnings to possible visitors. Or perhaps because purely of his nature, his heritage.
This time, he could not begrudge someone for it. At least he will be expecting it. That still does not make her terrible, he decides. Just afraid.]
I'll make myself comfortable after I know you're close to sleep. To bed, or I shall nag you more.
gmail why you gotta do me like this i have THINGS to DO
Oh, you'll nag me, will you.
[Probably she ought to put up a little more resistance to the thought of letting a man put her to bed, but she's tired and Mother's objections are far, far away right now.
So she leads him into the apartment's single bedroom, which is surprisingly tidy if only because she really hasn't had much time to clutter it up yet, though there's pretty obviously a smattering of odds and ends shoved rather unceremoniously under her bed, presumably for safekeeping.
And yet even as plain as it is, it's equally evident that Rosella has at least tried to make it seem more homey and comfortable. There are cerulean blue ribbons tying back the curtains, and a plastic cup filled with sweet-smelling wildflowers perched on the desk near a book with a bookmark sticking out of it. It's still the sort of barebones typical of someone who's just recently taken up residence in it, but there are touches of a girl living there, too.
Even the bed smells faintly of lavender. The Yankee Candles may not have worked out, but evidently the potpourri sachets had been a different story.]
What sort of story did you have in mind? The tale of one of your adventures?
no subject
He smiles almost fondly at the signs, especially the various items just shoved under her bed. Somehow, that does not surprise him with what he knows of her.]
Perhaps. A tale of a woman from a small village seeking out a powerful beast to gain his knowledge, or the story of the Sleeping Soldier who was fated to fight his own father. Something like that.
no subject
[She gives him a gentle but unceremonious push, making him look in the opposite direction as she drops his arm and climbs back into bed, settling the covers neatly around herself with as much dignity as she can muster.]
Tell me the one about the lady and the beast, she sounds brave and lovely. What sort of knowledge was she after?
no subject
Well, she was looking for knowledge on how to become a physician for her village. Not a magician with healing powers mind you, but she wanted to learn more about medicine. There was but one being who had the ability to teach her: a frightening beast that all had come to fear, the King of the Night.
But you're right, she was very brave. Through the wasteland, she walked, passing by skeletons on pikes leading up to a giant castle. The fine lady was undeterred as she struck the pommel of her knife to the beast's door. Though she was no warrior, she would not be swayed from her quest.
no subject
But her imagination has always been a robust one, and she's always had a habit of casting herself as the heroine in the stories she's read and played out. In her mind's eye, the castle he describes takes the shape of the one in the Impossible Mountains in Tamir, and the village woman's dress becomes as red as the one she'd been given herself, in the interim.]
Why did she think the beast would help her?
no subject
To her, this supposedly terrible beast must not be so completely monstrous to have knowledge to help people heal. Surely, there should be something she could do in return for him.
When the door opened, she went inside and found herself in a dark and mysterious hallway, the King of the Night shifting away in the shadows and mocking her at first, taking her for another person come to slay him. Instead, she called him rude and lacking in manners, stunning him.
no subject
[She sinks down a little further into her pillows, pulling her covers up to her chin.]
He was surprised that someone told him the truth, I take it. Or perhaps just that she talked to him at all. I don't know that I would've had the courage to, if I'd been in her place.
no subject
I think you underestimate yourself. In any case, maybe it was a bit of both; to have a person talk to him as if he were a man instead of monster, or to be so blunt with him. Who would be so brave to do so after all?
But conversation is what they had, and she discovered that the castle was not just his home, but it was also a way to travel if he so desired -- but he simply had not for years he could not name.
Unable to help herself, she immediately told him to travel. Not with the castle, but as men do with their own feet, to see the world had changed since he had last seen it. Again, the King of the Night was surprised by her, but also found himself charmed. After all, in two minutes she had demanded to be taught knowledge, told him how rude he was, and then suggested he walk as a commoner.
no subject
[There's that feeling again — the familiarity. Like this is a story she ought to know already. Like there are pieces of it she's heard before, somehow.]
Was he enchanted, somehow? Is that why he'd locked himself away?
no subject
But then, this woman who barged into his home wanted to learn medicine to help people. There was no ulterior motive, just good intent. He did not know what to do with that, but was convinced that he would give her time to learn. In return, he promised to one day walk the world as a man, to experience it as a human would with their own two feet.
And how much easier it is to promise something to another when you fall in love, and surely he did on the day he let her into his castle.
no subject
[It's odd; even amid her delight at the introduction of love at first sight into the story, the way he's describing the beast makes the image she's been holding in her mind's eye grow vaguer in the details, some of the clarity blurring as indecision starts to take hold. She can't seem to decide what the beast should look like, she realizes eventually; the woman and the castle are clear as day in her envisioning, but she can't settle on a depiction of a charming yet inhuman king to lurk in the shadows around them.
Well, perhaps it's not so important. It's all but impossible to be afraid of trolls and apartment noises when she's so focused on the image of a beast, after all.]
Did she love him back? I hope she did. And not just for the knowledge he had, either, but really for himself.
no subject
In a way, they balanced each other. His caution and her impulsive nature to see the best in everything. How much learning both delighted them. Two pieces made whole. A beautiful thing was made.
no subject
...You said your mother was a doctor. And your father a scholar.
[There's a question she's not asking, hanging off the end of that, but it's not exactly hard to guess.]
no subject
I did indeed.
no subject
That does sound beautiful. Finding one's other half.
[She turns onto her side, facing him with the covers still pulled up close beneath her chin.]
I'm glad they did. That they both did.
no subject
[A rare thing, once in a lifetime. How rare it is that one finds their truest love.
Alucard stands up and gives a bow of his head.]
Get some sleep, Rosella. I will be here.
no subject
[His story certainly leaves her a lot to think about, but that's the last thing she wants to do right now, now that she's finally sleepy and relaxed enough in her environment that she might actually stand a chance of drifting off.
So she closes her eyes, burrowed down into her pillow, and almost doesn't reply except that in the end, drowsy manners win out.]
Goodnight, your highness. And...thank you.