[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.]
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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?
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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.
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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.
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[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?
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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.
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[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.
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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.
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...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.]
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I did indeed.
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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.
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[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.
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[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.