thuringen | the scent of dusk is strangely nostalgic

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the scent of dusk is strangely nostalgic

It was almost humorous how much could change as the years progressed. No longer was Elisabeth confined to her chambers as she had been during her younger years, having been granted (admittedly reluctant) permission by her older brother, who had become King during that elapsed time, to stroll through the castle and the surrounding area. While it was a refreshing change, and she was undoubtedly grateful for it, she still couldn't help but feel like the caged bird she had always thought of herself to be. So long as she bore this burdened name of 'von Wettin,' she would forever be held captive inside this birdcage.

However, there was no reason for her to dwell on that when she had the chance to enjoy the world around her. Having escaped from the guards assigned to her once again, she visits a special place that she knows the guards will never find her - a well, the very one that claimed her beloved's life. Sometimes she couldn't help but wonder if it was silly that she visited his grave every day, but if she closed her eyes and imagined, it almost felt as though März was actually there by her side.

She offers a bittersweet smile as she approaches the well, kneeling down beside it. "Hello again, Mär," she says, closing her eyes and resting her head against the cold stone. She falls silent, almost as if she expects to hear his voice speak back, but she knows it's nothing more than wishful thinking. She opens her eyes again, brushing gloved fingers against the dirt below her. "Even after all this time, the roses I planted still haven't bloomed, have they...?" She chuckles emptily, fighting back tears that threatened to spill. Crying would do her no good; she's already shed innumerable tears over losing März, and shedding more still wouldn't bring him back no matter how hard she wished it would.

However, while she knew that was true, she could no longer resist the urge, allowing a few droplets to trail down her cheeks before dabbing at her eyes. "Goodness, look at me..." She chides herself and shakes her head, giving another hollow laugh. "You wouldn't want me to cry, März. Yes, if you were here now, I'm sure you would wipe away my tears and tell me to smile, just like when we were children..." She continues on reminiscing, speaking to the well as if it were März himself, but she knows she's doing it to distract herself from her looming sadness.

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Revenge was a near constant. Much like Elise had predicted back when they first started their "business", people would let their emotions take over in place of logic. After a while he had started to get used to it. By the time he finds himself back in the area, Märchen is more of an adrenaline addict. He doesn't get a physical rush from helping people get their revenge but the possibility that his own is at hand if he just gets one more helps keep him going.

That and Elise's near constant praise and adoration. The commentary she gives on each client is also amusing, and helps pass the time. While the doll rests against a tree, Märchen freezes for a moment as the well swings into his view.

He vaugely knows the woman- but it's like listening to a skipping record. He can almost place her, but whoever she is or was isn't settling in. He straightens up and smooths down his jacket as he steps from the shadows. Maybe she needs revenge.

And then he hears "März" and he stumbles for a moment as memories surface. Brief images, just maddeningly short enough to where he can't piece them together. Catching his footing and putting out his hands to grab whatever he can, Märchen's voice comes out a near croak. He feels like he's back in the well. Back with that thing begging him to accept it into him so he could fullfill the things he wants to do.

Back with the fear of not knowing why he was in the well and how his mother was doing. Back when he just wanted to be in the forest with-- "With who?" he thinks. The name, if there is one, won't come to him.

"That name." he coughs and straightens up, his balance found. "How do you know that name?"

Edited (grammar!) 2016-05-11 17:09 (UTC)

Her words come to a halt when she hears footsteps approaching, and she near starts when she sees the figure of a man come into view. For a moment, she finds herself staring at him - terrible manners, she knows, but there's something about him that captivates her that she can't even bring herself to presently care about etiquette. It's odd; she feels as though she's familiar with the man, but...no, no, she must be mistaken. She is certain she has never seen his face before - how could she? The many times she's come to this place, she's never seen him nor anyone else, for that matter, in this area. Yet, she can't quite shake off this unsettlingly nostalgic feeling...

She rises onto her feet, brushing off her dress. It's undoubtedly soiled from sitting on the ground, but she puts in the effort anyway to make herself look more presentable in front of this stranger. Her first instinct is to offer an apology - an "I'm sorry, I had no idea that there were others who occupied this area." In retrospect, it's almost foolish to say - this is a public area, and she sees no reason as to why someone would have business in an empty forest in the first place - but the words die on her tongue before she even has a chance to speak them.

"...Pardon?" she asks, but it isn't as though she didn't hear his inquiry; in fact, it's the question itself that confounds her. She shakes her head, as if she had simply imagined his words. "What...Whatever do you mean?"

She can't help but feel a bit reluctant to divulge anything to the other. Her memories with März are almost intimate to her that she doesn't quite feel comfortable sharing them - especially with someone whom she's unfamiliar. She doesn't know if this man even has any relevance to März, but she doubts he does. It had always been März and his mother, and she's no longer here either, so Elisabeth doesn't understand why this stranger would know of her childhood love. Therefore instead of answering, she inhales and returns to him a question of her own. "If I may be so bold, Herr...how is it that you are familiar with that name?"

He keeps moving until he's at the other side of the well. As his hands brush weathered stone, he exhales. "It's.. It's hard to explain. But it simply feels familiar. It sounds like my own nickname." And that, unfortunately, is as far as his memories let him go.

He looks towards the woman and studies her for a long moment. "It took me by surprise as only one person's ever called me that before. I think."

"I didn't mean to scare you. What is your name?"

How curious, she thinks; however, as strange as she finds it, she's not one to challenge his words. After all, it isn't as though the name is entirely unheard of, so she supposes it's a believable story - it just seemed a bit too coincidental, is all. "I...see." Assuming that his name was indeed 'März' or, at the very least, a derivation thereof, it strikes her as uncanny that he can't remember his name being such, and this nickname of his...well, she would be lying if she said she wasn't curious to know it.

Her curiosity notwithstanding, it would be rude of her to ask for his name without giving her own first. She waves a dismissive hand in regards to his first statement, shaking her head. "Oh, don't worry - you didn't scare me. I was merely...surprised. In all of my frequent visits to this well, I've never once encountered another person prior to you." And, frankly, that was yet another reason why this interaction was niggling at her mind - her baffling sense of déjà vu as well as the other's inexplicable connection to the name 'März'...indeed, it all seemed too coincidental.

Nevertheless, she offers him a curtsy before straightening up and flashing him a polite smile. "I am Elisabeth." She doesn't give her last name for two reasons - the first being that she doesn't want to be affiliated with her nobility and the second being that there was a possibility that the other would recognize it. No, it was impossible - she is undoubtedly certain she's never met this man before, and so she states, mostly to prove to herself: "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting, Herr...?" She trails off, allowing him to finish for her with his aforementioned alias.

"Some people hate wells." Märchen thinks back to a few of them and studies her, lookign for any signs of fear.

"Elisabeth? A nice name."Again, something bothers him as a faint memory surfaces.

"I'm Märchen von Friedhof." as he gives his own name, the memory sinks back into his mind. "No.. No I don't think we've met. But you'll forgive me for that, my memory isn't as good as it could be."

"My, thank you for the compliment. Your name is, ah..." She falls silent, suddenly at a loss for words. She didn't wish to offend him, so she had to tread carefully in her words. "Your name is rather quaint, if you'll pardon my words. I've never heard a name quite like it."

After all, it meant 'fairytale from the graveyard' - she supposed that was why it was his nickname and not his actual name, but who was she to judge? "Nevertheless, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Herr von Friedhof. If you don't mind my asking, whatever brings you to this forest...? It isn't necessarily a place I would assume one would want to visit..." Besides herself, of course.

"Unlike some others I've met, I actually don't mind the forest. Or graveyards, honestly." Just wells. His brow furrowed suddenly as he looks to the well and then back to Elisabeth. "Just traveling. I'm a salesman of sorts."

"Quaint is one way to describe it." he chuckles. "Most people aren't named 'fairytale'. What brings you here, Fräulein Elisabeth?" Before he realizes it, the next sentence is out of his mouth as the memory that's been flickering off and on snaps into clarity.

"Not scared, are you?"

"A salesman...? What precisely are your wares?" She wondered if she was being a bit too intrusive - after all, she had just met the man - but she had a high level of curiosity due to being inside the castle for most of her years. It was only recently that she was given the privilege of being able to explore it for herself, and her rendezvous with März during their childhood was only brief glimpses into the world around her. "If you do not mind my asking, of course."

She hesitates at his question, however. It would be rude not to answer when she had asked what he was doing here, so after another moment of contemplation, she finally relents. "As for myself...I'm merely paying my respects, I suppose you could say." It's a vague answer, but she supposes it'll suffice - he didn't ask for an elaborate response.

She pauses again at his final question, this time taken aback. "What reason would I have to be scared, Herr von Friedhof...?"

"Company as well as being able to do things that someone can't. Locating missing persons, providing contact information about old lovers, that sort of thing." It's easier than saying 'revenge' and fielding questions. "No, I don't mind at all."

"Your respects?" he nods. "It's as good of a place as any to do that, I suppose. Almost as dark as a graveyard, and I've heard several stories about wells that paint them as nothing I wish to be around for long periods of time."

His eyes light up a little at her reaction to his question. "Do excuse that last question. It was just something I suddenly remembered. If you need a reason as to why it was asked, assume it was for the atmosphere of the area. A lady such as yourself may not be so used to it. I meant no disrespect."

Her eyes widen slightly when he elaborates on his profession; it was a rather odd and seemingly vague description, and she's never heard of a job such as his before. "That is rather...interesting. I suppose you are like an investigator, then?"

She can't help but feel grateful that he didn't inquire further. "It is. It is truly such a shame how many lives can be lost to something as simple as a well." As she says that, her thoughts flicker back to her lost friend. Perhaps if he hadn't gone to tell her that he was leaving, he would still be alive. She couldn't even begin to imagine what his final moments were like when he was thrown into that well. "I understand. I do not necessarily like being around wells myself. It resurfaces bad memories." Still, she felt obligated to do this for März.

Remembered...? Now, this was getting more and more peculiar. That was the very question März had asked her when he had first taken her into the forest - now how would he had known that? She swallows, shaking her head. "It...It, erm, is nothing you need to apologize for, Herr von Friedhof. I do appreciate your concern, but I am fine. This is not the first time that I have come here."

"Something very similar, yes."

His eyes narrow slightly in thought. Again, memories break the surface. Stronger, this time, and in such a rapid succession that it almost sends him to the ground. Märchen staggers back, his own eyes wide.

"No. No it isn't.. I asked if you were afraid and then you said you weren't because the--" his sentence is swallowed by a sudden half laugh. For the first time in a while, he reaches towards his eyes as they begin to sting. The shock finally drives him to his knees.

His hands clasp onto the ground as if it can swallow him, and he visibly shakes. "Because the world was so big. You weren't afraid of it."

Elisabeth grows rigid, also being overtaken by shock as she hears the words that leave his mouth. There was only one person who would have ever known that, and that was-- "M-März...?" She speaks the name without even thinking about it, and for some reason, it sounds more right than referring to him by his alias. "Y-You... You are März, aren't you...?" Her tone is incredulous, as if she's asking him the question to give him a final chance to deny her claims and perhaps laugh in her face or call her foolish for her wishful thinking just like her brother would; yet, she doubts that'll happen.

She takes a shaky step towards him, kneeling down at his side. "You have to be...t-there's no other explanation. No one else...could possibly know that." Try as she might to keep herself composed in the situation, she feels her willpower dissolving. Her breath hitches, and she covers her face with a hand to hide her welling tears. "I...I don't know how, but...after all this time, you've managed to keep your promise, Mär..."

He nods as she says his name. As she covers her face, he gives a soft smile and hesitantly reaches for her hand. "I am."

He pauses. "I have. Please look at me, Elisabeth. It's been so long."

It feels like ages the more he thinks about it. He remembers almost everything-- their conversation before the incident, even the men who'd asked him for directions to his mother's house, though vaugely. Märchen searches his pockets and finds a handkerchief, which he offers to Elisabeth.

She takes the proffered handkerchief, dabbing at the tears flowing from her eyes so that she can fulfill his request. Once she's sure that she's no longer crying, she raises her head to look at him, offering him a smile full of mixed emotions. She was undoubtedly happy that she was connected with her beloved once more, but...still, this all felt so surreal, and she was almost scared that this was a dream that she would soon wake up from to torment her for continuing to harbor feelings for the one she lost. "It...It has been. Oh, Mär...it's been so difficult going on without you. My brother has been pressuring me to marry, yet...I couldn't betray you. You were and always will be my one and only love."

As he listens to her, Märchen nods in agreement. "It has been. But I'm here now." He offers one of his hands. "Touch my hand, if you need or want to. I assure you this is real, Elisabeth."

At her last statement, he feels a tightning in his chest. "And.." he sniffles and then nods. "And you mine. Though I honestly don't remember as much as I'd like. But I remembered that much. And I still do."

Tentatively, she reaches for his hand, half-expecting it to be intangible; however, once her fingers actually touch his skin, confirming that this was indeed real, she slips her hand into his, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "Yes, you are right...you do not know how incredibly happy this makes me, Mär."

She hasn't the slightest possibility as to how this occurrence is even happening, but she doesn't dare question it - somehow, she had been blessed enough to be reunited with her childhood flame, and that was more than enough for her to be appreciative of. "It is fine - the fact that you remember just that is enough."

He squeezes her hand back and laughs a little before his eyes mist over. "If you say so. I honestly don't remember much after.. well, after what lead me here. Just bits and pieces." He exhales and slowly begins to stand.

"It was because of that." Märchen looks towards the well and then to the flowers. "Those are.."

Edited 2016-06-02 22:08 (UTC)

She stands when he does, following his gaze towards the well with an unreadable expression. "It...is probably better that you do not remember, then. It is much too horrible to recall." She hadn't witnessed it, but even hearing about it was more than enough to send a chill down her spine. She did not understand how some people in the world could be so cruel as to do that to a young child and his mother with no remorse.

When he refers to the flowers, she gives a solemn nod. "Those are the roses that we had gathered together as children." She gives a faint laugh as a thought suddenly comes to mind. "Do you remember, Mär, when you placed one in my hair...?"

"Vaugely. The same as almost everything else." he walks towards the well, shoulders tense. When he's close enough, he crouches and picks one of the flowers. He's mindful of the thorns but just barely.

"It's surprising that they've grown so well. You must have shown them a lot of care."

A part of her can't help but feel disappointed at the answer, but she doesn't blame him. She can't, even if she wanted to. It isn't his fault that his memories are so muddled, but she can't help but feel as though if she gradually reminds him of the dear moments they shared together as children, everything will come flooding back to him. Still, she has to be grateful that she has März back at all, regardless of his lapse of memories. She watches him as he approaches the flowers, the trace of a smile on her face. "Ever since your..." She hesitates to even say the word. "...ah, passing, I've visited this place daily. Tending to the flowers was only the least I could do."

"They're lovely." He turns towards her with a faint smile. "I'm sure they appreciated it." More memories were below the surface but it was like muddied water. Sometimes he had intense moments of clarity about parts of his past, but more about the people he'd 'helped' as the Corpse Conductor, and rarely about Elisabeth.

"The window." he says suddenly. "I remember seeing you through that."

"That's correct," she says, almost approvingly. "I remember the first time we met. There you were, smiling just like the gentle moonlight." Her expression suddenly turns a bit sheepish as she laughs faintly. "...I was a bit surprised, to say the least. It was not often that I received visitors, especially at my windowsill, but I suppose it was your smile that told me I could trust you, so I had no qualms with going with you to explore the forest at night."

"I think most would be if someone was suddenly at their window." he laughs and then thinks before speaking again. "Elisabeth, may I ask why you were living there? You'd mentioned the world was so huge and I didn't give it much thought back then. I was so happy to have someone to play with, but now I'm curious. Before I met you, had you never left your house?"

His cheeks color slightly. "Not that I've much to compare it to, of course. My mother was usually very adament that I only play in the forest."

She flushes slightly in embarrassment at his question. "Ah...no, I had never left my house prior to meeting you." She sounds almost ashamed to admit it, but there was no benefit in lying about it. It wasn't as though it was her fault that she was confined to her room. "However, it was not my personal decision - it was one made by my family. I do not believe they intended to shield me from the world for the sake of just doing so, but...I suppose they wanted to protect from the dangers of the world, out of fear that they would lose me once again."

She pauses momentarily. "...I suppose I should clarify. I do not know if your mother told you this, but if it weren't for her generosity and her wisdom, I would not be standing here today." She gives a bittersweet smile; while she's undoubtedly grateful that Therese saved her life, she feels as though if she had died back then, she wouldn't be burdened with the expectations of her nobility. But if she died back then, she never would have met März, the light of her life. Despite those thoughts, she continues on.

"I suspect you do not know this, but I was born with a poor constitution. Sometime after my birth, I suddenly stopped breathing and was then buried beneath the ground. However, my mother refused to accept that I was dead, demanded that I was dug back up, and hurriedly sought your mother's aid. I do not know what she did, but...if it weren't for her, I would not be alive. I am truly indebted to her. I simply wish that I could have...could have..." Saved her, she thinks.

"Lose you?"

Märchen quiets himself and nods as she explains. "I didn't know, no. I'd never met you before then.." he sighs and idly fidgets with some of the buttons on his coat sleeve.

"You're not to blame, Elisabeth. When those two men asked that I take them to her, I had no idea.."

A few more lost memories surface and Märchen frowns. "If I'd known, then perhaps I could've done something." But he'd been young, and they'd been fast about grabbing him and heading for the well. "Though I doubt it."

"I know it is not my fault, but still I wish I had been able to do something." Even though she knows that there was nothing that she could have done either. She had been around the same age as März, and it was impossible for a young fragile girl of her stature to overpower two older men who were undoubtedly stronger than she was. If she had tried to intervene, she perhaps might have faced the same fate as her beloved, tossed into the depths of the well. "...I do not understand how some people can be so cruel. Neither your mother nor yourself, Mär, deserved the fate you were given. Frau von Ludowing was truly talented, being able to heal others the way that she could, but those two men...no, the entire town could not comprehend her gift and instead mistook it for a curse. And for being her son, they decided to punish you as well." She sighs and shakes her head. "It astounds me how cruel others can be."

"I wish I could still say it astounds me, honestly. To not have a better idea of how deep cruelity can run in someone." He looks between the flowers and the well and then towards the sky. "It's truly a botomless reserve, it seems."

"Does this have something to do with your profession you mentioned earlier...?" What was it that he said again? Something about...locating missing persons and contacting former lovers? Elisabeth couldn't quite understand the correlation between intel and cruelty. "Mär...please, I'd like for you to be honest with me." She turns to face him, a more serious expression assuming her features. "What is it that you truly do...ah, did? Under this alias of Märchen von Friedhof."

"It does." He looks aside for a second before facing Elisabteh properly. "I helped locate missing people and contact former lovers for the purpose of assisting in revenge. I can recall six clients easily, but there have been several more. Too many to count."

Edited 2016-07-17 22:21 (UTC)

"Assisting in revenge...?" Well, that explains the cruelty part. "I...I see. However were you able to do so...?"

"Magic.. Or at least slight of hand. Manipulation and truth bending. The same thing that humans have been using Just.. more of it, when compared to them."

"I had never thought that magic truly existed in this world..." It was something that citizens would mention, often associated with witchcraft and heresy, but Elisabeth never truly believed it, only thinking it to be senseless rumors spout around the community. However, she trusts März; she has no reason to doubt him, so if he says that magic exists and that he's used it, then she can do nothing more than take him at his word, even if she feels a sense of incredulity. "...Pardon, this is just...well, it is a lot to take in, is all."

"Of course. I should've thought before suddenly mentioning it. Take as much time as you need." Märchen fell quiet for a few moments. "Did you ever study medicine?" he asked suddenly. "Even just a little. I'm curious."

"Mm...there were several things I was required to study, medicine being just one of them," she answers, reflecting back on the times she had to be educated in order to ensure she would be a proper bride. "Admittedly, I did not study it as extensively as your mother did, but the subject was, at the very least, brought up a few times during my sessions with my tutor...why do you ask?"

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the scent of dusk is strangely nostalgic

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sorry for the lateness! graduated yesterday and got caught up with that

np np! congrats on graduating!

thanks! c:

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Sorry it took so long!

no worries! also heads up, i'll be gone all of next week so i won't be able to reply until after!

roger!

well by the time you replied i already came back |D

welp :V

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sorry this took so long!

no worries!

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