“I'm fine,” she whispered, not entirely certain who she was speaking to. “I'm fine.”
“But you're crying...”
She blinked. The visions of the twins' story faded as the rosebush's bloodflow stemmed to a trickle. She was kneeling before the boys, their cold hands clasped in hers. Toris was kneeling beside her, looking as worried as he usually did.
Natalia could feel the drying tears all down her cheeks and jaw. She scowled, pulling her hands free and wiping her face clean.
“Are you alright?” Toris asked, as Natalia turned away.
“I'm fine,” she whispered, unable to draw enough energy for her usual snap.
“It... I'm sure this is all for the best,” Toris said, hovering anxiously behind her. “We freed them. They have a peaceful death, and I'm sure they will -”
“They will what?” cried Natalia, turning to face him. “They will have a beautiful place in the afterlife? That they will be held in Death's loving embrace? They will be reunited with their wretched parents who abandoned them to this life? They were children, Toris! And they died so young because the people who should have cared for them didn't and oh God!”
She turned away again, determined not to cry any more. She had done so well at holding back her tears before this wretched journey began, but things like this were making her remember what had happened, and it was so hard to keep holding them back.
And then she felt Toris wrap his arms around her, and she gave a start. She would have thought something like this would be beyond what such an anxious man would be capable of, but he seemed strangely serene as he held her.
“We did what we could,” he whispered. “You mustn't tear yourself over things beyond your control.”
But that does not take away the pain, Natalia thought. The twins are still dead and they still left me and I still failed the others. But she said none of this aloud. Instead, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and gently pushed Toris away from her. “These boys need to be buried,” she said. “Then they will truly be put to rest.”
Toris nodded. “Beneath the rose bush, were you thinking?”
“Of course,” said Natalia. They would rest most peacefully under the last reminder of the happiest time in their short lives.
The two knelt and began to dig.
“Natalia,” Toris asked, “what of the wild man? Are we going to bury him after this?”
“No,” said Natalia. “There is something else we must do for him.”
----
The town had not known such excitement in years, since the marriage of Lady Elizabeta Hedervary to Lord Roderich Eddelstein. It was a peaceful place. Uproars simply had no business happening there.
And yet one was going on right now. One could not blame the townsfolk, however. It would have been unrealistic to expect them to remain calm when the body of the Wild Man of the Forest was found lying at the town gates.
The police had to hurry to disperse the crowd around the body before the bolder people began throwing rocks and kicking it. Everyone was rejoicing. The Wild Man was dead! The forest was free!
And then a cry cut through the cheers: “Gilbert! It's Gilbert! Oh God, what happened to him?!?”
The townsfolk were speechless as the now-Lady Eddelstein pushed to the center of the crowd and knelt by the body. “Who killed him?” she demanded. “What happened? What have you done to him?”
There was a deafening silence. The crowd looked at one another, uncertain of what she was talking about.
“Gilbert Beilschmidt!” she shouted, clearly running out of patience. “The second-youngest son of Herr Beilschmidt, the one you asses called a devil-child and drove from town, my dear friend! Who killed him?”
Mutters and murmurs rose from the crowd as her words stirred their memories. Ah, so that was – well, he did seem – how long ago had it – didn't he disappear during the night?
The police reached Elizabeta just as Roderich did. They knelt beside her and explained that no one knew the cause of the Wild Man – of Gilbert's death. They were bringing his grandfather to verify if it was, in fact Gilbert. They had to be certain, after all. It had been years since anyone had seen him, and the body was so scarred and bruised that it would have been very difficult to verify anyone.
Grandfather Beilschmidt was fetched, though, as the townsfolk whispered, they knew his heart would be broken. He had only just received word that his youngest grandson, granddaughters-in-law, and great-grandchildren would be coming back to live with him. To lose a grandson so soon after regaining another... it was fortunate that the man was very strong.
He arrived soon enough. He only had to look at the body once to confidently say it was so. Gilbert – the Wild Man of the Forest – was dead. Without saying another word, he picked up his grandson's body and carried it away. No one protested this. It was only fitting, after all. And the look on the man's face suggested that he may well kill anyone who said otherwise.
Elizabeta was in her husband's arms, sobbing over and over, “The fool! How could he? How did he get himself killed?” The townsfolk were uncomfortable with such a spectacle, but what could they do? Elizabeta had never cared to show decorum at any point before in her life and her husband, besotted fool he was, certain wasn't going to reprimand her.
Roderich, for his part, rubbed Elizabeta's back and held her tight. “I will speak with Gilbert's grandfather about the funeral arrangements,” he said. “I will finance everything and see to it that he is given a proper send-off, with all respect and dignity.”
All respect and dignity he was never shown in life, the townsfolk filled in. They weren't such fools that they didn't know the end of that sentence. It was left hanging in the air by Elizabeta, by Roderich, and by Grandfather Beilschmidt.
The funeral was arranged for the very next day. The entire town was there, dressed in their finest mourning clothes. Closest to the casket stood Elizabeta and all of Gilbert's family. He was laid to rest not a half-mad monster in the forest but a man peacefully surrounded by those he loved. And in the end, is there no better way to pass from this world to the next?
----
“Are you ready to go?” asked Toris.
Natalia looked up from the sunflower pendant. She had just finished watching Gilbert's funeral. In a way, it was nice to see him come to a quiet, peaceful end. Lying in repose, he looked almost happy.
“I'm ready,” she said, tucking the pendant back under the neckline of her dress.
“Where are we going next?”
“We still need to find the man who sold this pendant to begin with,” Natalia said. “If he knows who made it, I can find the ones I seek. But what about you?” she added. “We've been hunting down my leads and, well... it's not as if I care, but there's been nothing that sounds like a lead for your own quest.”
Toris smiled. “Please don't worry about that. Seeing you succeed in your own quest is all I want, right now. I'm not sure where to begin looking for what I'm after and who knows? If I travel this wide world with you, perhaps I'll find it anyway.”
“That's your own business then,” said Natalia. “Follow or leave me, it's up to you.”
“I will always follow you,” said Toris.
And so they continued onward.
Immortalia: Story the Fourth - Rose White, Rose Red - Notes
I translated Gilbert's dialogue from English to German as best I can. If I made any mistakes, please let me know and I'll correct it during the de-anon later. He wasn't saying anything particularly complicated, just asking Natalia to hear his story and mentioning that she has the same fiery spirit as Elizabeta.
Other than that, I'd say that's about it for this particular story. I'm sorry for the delay in finishing this. We're nearing the end though, so onward and outward, eh?
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Immortalia: Story the Fourth - Rose White, Rose Red (H)
(Anonymous) 2015-01-21 03:31 am (UTC)(link)“I'm fine,” she whispered, not entirely certain who she was speaking to. “I'm fine.”
“But you're crying...”
She blinked. The visions of the twins' story faded as the rosebush's bloodflow stemmed to a trickle. She was kneeling before the boys, their cold hands clasped in hers. Toris was kneeling beside her, looking as worried as he usually did.
Natalia could feel the drying tears all down her cheeks and jaw. She scowled, pulling her hands free and wiping her face clean.
“Are you alright?” Toris asked, as Natalia turned away.
“I'm fine,” she whispered, unable to draw enough energy for her usual snap.
“It... I'm sure this is all for the best,” Toris said, hovering anxiously behind her. “We freed them. They have a peaceful death, and I'm sure they will -”
“They will what?” cried Natalia, turning to face him. “They will have a beautiful place in the afterlife? That they will be held in Death's loving embrace? They will be reunited with their wretched parents who abandoned them to this life? They were children, Toris! And they died so young because the people who should have cared for them didn't and oh God!”
She turned away again, determined not to cry any more. She had done so well at holding back her tears before this wretched journey began, but things like this were making her remember what had happened, and it was so hard to keep holding them back.
And then she felt Toris wrap his arms around her, and she gave a start. She would have thought something like this would be beyond what such an anxious man would be capable of, but he seemed strangely serene as he held her.
“We did what we could,” he whispered. “You mustn't tear yourself over things beyond your control.”
But that does not take away the pain, Natalia thought. The twins are still dead and they still left me and I still failed the others. But she said none of this aloud. Instead, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and gently pushed Toris away from her. “These boys need to be buried,” she said. “Then they will truly be put to rest.”
Toris nodded. “Beneath the rose bush, were you thinking?”
“Of course,” said Natalia. They would rest most peacefully under the last reminder of the happiest time in their short lives.
The two knelt and began to dig.
“Natalia,” Toris asked, “what of the wild man? Are we going to bury him after this?”
“No,” said Natalia. “There is something else we must do for him.”
----
The town had not known such excitement in years, since the marriage of Lady Elizabeta Hedervary to Lord Roderich Eddelstein. It was a peaceful place. Uproars simply had no business happening there.
And yet one was going on right now. One could not blame the townsfolk, however. It would have been unrealistic to expect them to remain calm when the body of the Wild Man of the Forest was found lying at the town gates.
The police had to hurry to disperse the crowd around the body before the bolder people began throwing rocks and kicking it. Everyone was rejoicing. The Wild Man was dead! The forest was free!
And then a cry cut through the cheers: “Gilbert! It's Gilbert! Oh God, what happened to him?!?”
The townsfolk were speechless as the now-Lady Eddelstein pushed to the center of the crowd and knelt by the body. “Who killed him?” she demanded. “What happened? What have you done to him?”
There was a deafening silence. The crowd looked at one another, uncertain of what she was talking about.
“Gilbert Beilschmidt!” she shouted, clearly running out of patience. “The second-youngest son of Herr Beilschmidt, the one you asses called a devil-child and drove from town, my dear friend! Who killed him?”
Mutters and murmurs rose from the crowd as her words stirred their memories. Ah, so that was – well, he did seem – how long ago had it – didn't he disappear during the night?
The police reached Elizabeta just as Roderich did. They knelt beside her and explained that no one knew the cause of the Wild Man – of Gilbert's death. They were bringing his grandfather to verify if it was, in fact Gilbert. They had to be certain, after all. It had been years since anyone had seen him, and the body was so scarred and bruised that it would have been very difficult to verify anyone.
Grandfather Beilschmidt was fetched, though, as the townsfolk whispered, they knew his heart would be broken. He had only just received word that his youngest grandson, granddaughters-in-law, and great-grandchildren would be coming back to live with him. To lose a grandson so soon after regaining another... it was fortunate that the man was very strong.
He arrived soon enough. He only had to look at the body once to confidently say it was so. Gilbert – the Wild Man of the Forest – was dead. Without saying another word, he picked up his grandson's body and carried it away. No one protested this. It was only fitting, after all. And the look on the man's face suggested that he may well kill anyone who said otherwise.
Elizabeta was in her husband's arms, sobbing over and over, “The fool! How could he? How did he get himself killed?” The townsfolk were uncomfortable with such a spectacle, but what could they do? Elizabeta had never cared to show decorum at any point before in her life and her husband, besotted fool he was, certain wasn't going to reprimand her.
Roderich, for his part, rubbed Elizabeta's back and held her tight. “I will speak with Gilbert's grandfather about the funeral arrangements,” he said. “I will finance everything and see to it that he is given a proper send-off, with all respect and dignity.”
All respect and dignity he was never shown in life, the townsfolk filled in. They weren't such fools that they didn't know the end of that sentence. It was left hanging in the air by Elizabeta, by Roderich, and by Grandfather Beilschmidt.
The funeral was arranged for the very next day. The entire town was there, dressed in their finest mourning clothes. Closest to the casket stood Elizabeta and all of Gilbert's family. He was laid to rest not a half-mad monster in the forest but a man peacefully surrounded by those he loved. And in the end, is there no better way to pass from this world to the next?
----
“Are you ready to go?” asked Toris.
Natalia looked up from the sunflower pendant. She had just finished watching Gilbert's funeral. In a way, it was nice to see him come to a quiet, peaceful end. Lying in repose, he looked almost happy.
“I'm ready,” she said, tucking the pendant back under the neckline of her dress.
“Where are we going next?”
“We still need to find the man who sold this pendant to begin with,” Natalia said. “If he knows who made it, I can find the ones I seek. But what about you?” she added. “We've been hunting down my leads and, well... it's not as if I care, but there's been nothing that sounds like a lead for your own quest.”
Toris smiled. “Please don't worry about that. Seeing you succeed in your own quest is all I want, right now. I'm not sure where to begin looking for what I'm after and who knows? If I travel this wide world with you, perhaps I'll find it anyway.”
“That's your own business then,” said Natalia. “Follow or leave me, it's up to you.”
“I will always follow you,” said Toris.
And so they continued onward.
Immortalia: Story the Fourth - Rose White, Rose Red - Notes
(Anonymous) 2015-02-13 03:07 am (UTC)(link)Other than that, I'd say that's about it for this particular story. I'm sorry for the delay in finishing this. We're nearing the end though, so onward and outward, eh?