#also RIP to her ex that ended up w a termite infestation. She really said im playing the long game. gonna fuck up your houses foundation

[drustvar]

Ch. 6: Fracture

Broken things come to pass at the docks.

WC: 3,497 A/N: A lot of how Rosie acts in this chapter was inspired by 'Pearl', and tbh I kind of wish I had pushed that a little further but oh well. She'll get more unhinged as the story progresses, don't worry :) Ao3 Link in reblog|| Full text available under read more.

Julian walked a few steps ahead of Rosie, a tall, black silhouette against the pale sand. Rosie watched him, the tension in his shoulders had been building all day, and seemed ready to crash over both of them. He stopped at the rotting wood of the pier, hands in his pockets as the moon reflected brightly off his boots. The only thing that broke the silence was  the constant sound of waves crashing against the shore. He stared out at the sea for a while, and she followed his gaze. The water was as black as the sky above, infinite and unknowable. Julian took a deep breath before he finally spoke.

“Feel that breeze. A nice night for sailing, don’t you think?” 

“Never sailed before.” 

He shook his head and his gaze dropped, staring down the end of the dock. “Rosie, listen…we, uh. We really need to talk.” “You’ve been saying that all day,” she shifted the bag on her shoulder. Even though it was mostly empty, it felt like a prisoner’s weight. 

“Ah, I have, haven’t I? I suppose I was enjoying myself too much to take the plunge.” 

“What’s wrong? Please, just tell me.” 

“Oh, lots of things,” he grimaced. “Too many to count. Give me a number, and I’ll tell you it’s too low.”

She crossed her arms. “Julian.”

He sighed and looked away. “I’ve done the calculations. Thought of every possibility. Run through the scenario over and over in my head…Rosie,” he reached for her hand, but couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze. “There’s only one way I can see this whole thing playing out. And it’s not a happy ending, trust me.”

“I dunnae understand what you mean,” she said. She did understand, but she didn’t want to.

“Isn’t it better to cut things off at the pass? To spare you the trouble of a tragic ending?” He still wouldn’t look at her, just stared out at the sea, as if debating on jumping in and sinking.

Rosie thought back to that morning, how waking up without Julian beside her had filled her chest with an empty ache, how worried she’d been about him. How she had felt so sure that the very worst had happened to him, and that she hadn't been there to prevent it. “When you left this morning, you weren’t going to come back, were you?” She spoke quietly; as if not asking could stop it from being true. “I, ah, no… Well, I wasn’t thinking clearly," his words were clumsy and rushed. "But I would never, I could never have just left you. Even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. Want to leave, that is.” He finally met her eyes. She’d never seen someone look more sorry. “But, I just don’t see how else this can go.” He dropped down to sit on the edge of the pier, his long legs dangling over the water. His boots skimmed the surface, sending tiny ripples through the dark.  “What do you mean by that?” She sank down next to him. Their shoulders brushed, and her heart ached at how eagerly he leaned against her. He just shook his head before he pointed to an island in the distance, a small shadow on the horizon. “See that island? It’s called the Lazaret. It’s where the city sent their infected, during the height of the plague. A perfect monument to my failures. Always visible from the shore, always reminding the city of how much it suffered.” 

She had heard stories of the Lazaret. How when the city had run out of space to quarantine the sick, the doctors were ordered to send them to the island’s crematoriums. The sick and the dying disposed of by their city like trash. “Every death, every body burnt in those pits is another mark against me. More than I could ever count…” he trailed off, his eyes never leaving the island. “I don’t want to drag this out, Rosie. This, whatever it was. Whatever it could have been. It has to end.”  “But I don’t understand. I thought you liked me.” The lump in her throat made her voice come out harsher than she'd meant.  “I do like you. That’s why it has to be this way. That’s why this has to end now before it's too late and I wind up hurting you.” “That’s stupid. You aren’t like that, you wouldn’t hurt me-” He laughed, sharp and pained. “Oh, Rosie. Dear Rosie, you’re too kind. I will absolutely hurt you. It’s only a matter of time. It’s what I do, you know. It’s what I’ve always done. I’ll be the first to admit my faults, and of that there are many. I end up losing myself,” he sighed again, trying to maintain some form of composure. “Or maybe this is the real me. Someone who hurts. A failure. I don’t know if I killed the Count, but I know I could have. I know I have that kind of darkness inside me. Even if you say that it would have done the world a favor, it was still a life. Someone must have loved him, it must have destroyed somebody. And isn’t that enough to damn me?” “No.” She wanted to scream, he was talking too fast for her to keep up. ‘I don’t care what you’ve done!’ She thought. ‘All I care about is us. What makes him think he’ll hurt me? If all of this is connected to his past, then where do I come in? All I want…all I need is to know is how he feels about me.’ She leaned back and sighed heavily. “So that’s it?  We just go our separate ways? You don’t want me enough to try to keep from self-destructing?” “Dear, please don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” his voice was much quieter. “I’m breaking us up. Plain and simple.” “Breaking up?” Rosie laughed sharply, trying to sound unbothered. “Since when were we together?” ‘Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe it’s me who hurts you,’ she thought as she tried to ignore the faint stinging at the corner of her eyes. ‘I could say that you’re nothing to me, even if that would be the biggest lie I’d ever told.’ “Ah, yes you have a point. Not really a breakup, is it? We never—we never really had anything to start with. Just a night or two stolen from time.” He swallowed hard, visibly tense.  “But, do I want you…do I want you? God, that’s a hard question to answer. I want you to be safe. I want you to stay out of this whole mess, I want…” he shook his head and stared down at the water below them. “ Well, it doesn’t matter what I want.”  “That isn’t an answer,” she said as her nails dug into her palms.

“Tenacious, aren’t you? It’s one of the things I like about you. No matter what happens, you keep forging on. You’re like this great, bright light, drawing me towards you. I just can’t help myself. If I was a stronger man…if I wasn’t so weak. But I just can’t stay away from you.” ‘Then let me be strong for you. I can be strong for both of us ,’ she thought. 

Julian bit his bottom lip, looking defeated. He barely looked at her as he spoke again. “ I'm torn in two between what I wish could be and what I know will be; of course I want you. I know it’s only been a short time, but I feel like I’ve known you for years. Is it because you put me at ease? That’s hard to do, you know. I want to be around you. I-I can’t stop thinking about you, even when you’re right beside me. That’s the problem.” He slowly met her eyes as she put a hand over his. “I wish I was strong enough to break the cycle, like you said...but I'm just not. It doesn't matter what my heart wants, I've learned that by now.” He tried to give her a smile before he craned his neck to stare up at the moon. “If I think about it, I can see the path our story would take. So why,” he slumped over, trying to hide himself in the hunch of his shoulders. “If I walk away from you now, will I stay away? If I drop my guard, will I find myself walking right back to you? That’s what makes me selfish. Because whatever we could have, whatever possibilities…They’ll only lead to ruin. That’s the kind of man I am.” “We have but one life,” she said. “Why not be a little selfish?” “I can’t,” he shook his head. “There’s just no future for us that doesn’t end in pain for you.” “How can you be so sure? What future do you want, then?” She wished she had told him how much she hated riddles.  “I’ve told you. It doesn’t matter what I want.” “Have you given thought to what I might want?” She hissed. “Can’t you see anything else? Can’t you think of anything else? Is everything a miserable tragedy to you?” 

“Tragedy’s what I’m best at, Rosie. I’m the star of my own one-man play.” She wanted to slap him. “It’s what will happen. In this world, we don’t get what we want. Why waste time imagining something you can’t ever have? I don’t dare hope. It just makes it hurt more when you don’t get it.” 

“Couldn’t you try? For me?” Julian laughed, but there was no mirth to it. He just stared at the dark horizon. “What do you want to hear from me, Rosie? That I want a future? That I—that I want to live? That I want something with you?” “It sounds nice, doesn’t it?” He got to his feet and started to pace, the old pier creaking underneath his boots. She brushed her thumb over the face of her amulet as she watched him. “Oh, I can see it when I close my eyes,” he said. “Warm laughter, light hearts. Never a dull night. Days spent with friends. Pasha never having a reason to cry again…Things we’ll never have. So it goes.” He stared out at the sea, his back to her. “But you’ll survive, Rosie. You were fine before I got here. You’ll be fine after I’ve left. You’re strong like that. Stronger than I am, that’s for sure.” Rosie sighed, feeling as though she had swallowed gravel as she got to her feet.  “Right. Well, I can see you’ve made your decision.” She brushed her skirt off,  and tried to avoid looking at him. “Be a gentleman and walk me home.”  ||

Everything was dark and quiet when they stopped on the porch. The quiet rustling of the garden in the night breeze was the only thing breaking up the awkward, tense silence between them. “Well, here we are,” Julian said, a note of finality in his voice. “At your shop. Uh, end of the line.” Rosie just stared at him. She didn’t want to speak, she knew if she did her voice would break after the first word. “When I came to Vesuvia, I was seeking answers. Finding you, that was a rare treat,” he reached out, his hand hovered over her shoulder, as if he was unsure if he was still allowed to touch her. She grabbed his hand and squeezed, trying to commit the feeling of his grip to memory.

“Regardless of what we are to each other, regardless of…whatever this was,” she said. “I’ve still got your back. If you need something, anything , find me.”

He leaned forward to press a kiss on each side of her face, lips lingering just a second longer against her skin.

“Thank you, my dear. The time we spent together, however brief, mattered to me. I won’t forget it.”

“Stay safe. If not for me, for Pasha.” She turned away, pressing her hand to the door. “As you wish,” he murmured. With a whirl of his cape he was gone, footsteps fading away into a faint echo. Rosie slammed her fist into the door. The tears that had remained hidden started to roll down her cheeks as she stomped inside, the door slamming shut behind her. She swore as she threw her bag onto the counter. It was then that she noticed the shop smelled of cinnamon, and all the lanterns were lit, giving off a warm glow. She wiped hurriedly at her eyes as soft footsteps approached.

“Rosie?” Asra smiled warmly as he slid over the railing of the stairs. “When did you get home?” She tried to steady her breathing, and hoped that her mascara hadn’t run too much. “This morning. I was going to go up to the Palace to check on you, but Faust said you weren’t there.” “Oh she did, did she?” Rosie tried to smile, but her grin more closely resembled a snarl. Faust ducked back under the folds of her master’s sash. 

“What’s wrong?” She winced. Of course Asra immediately knew. But she had never been a subtle person.

“It’s nothing. Everything’s fine,” picked up her bag and hung it up, trying to avoid his eyes. “Did you have fun on your little trip? Doing whatever it is you do?” She hadn’t meant for the last of her words to sound so bitter. 

“Rosie?” Asra rested his hand over hers. She finally met his eyes. The color purple had never felt so comforting.

“It’s nothing, really. Oh, where would I even begin?” She started straightening the disturbed items on the counter, desperate to keep her hands busy. “It’s nothing. I find a river full of poison, I fall in the canal, and Julian breaks up with me. Which is silly, foolish even, to think we had somethin’ goin’-”

“Woah, slow down!” Asra grabbed her arm. His hand on her arm was warm, and she found she could breathe again. “What…what was that last part?”

“Which ‘last’ part?” She laughed. “The part where I’m a fool of a woman or the part where Julian left me?” 

“I…he did? You two were…?”

“Yes, no, oh…I dunnae even know.” She shook her head as Asra offered her his mug of tea. “I mean, we slept together -oh!” Asra had started to choke on his drink. “I didn’t mean like that! I meant how you and I share a bed, that’s all!” 

Asra coughed and wiped his mouth. “Let’s go upstairs and talk. I made that tea you like, you look like you could use it.” He took her hand and led the way, thumb brushing absentmindedly over her knuckles. Rosie leaned against him, grateful for his support. “I dunnae know what’s going on with him,” she murmured against his shoulder. “I dunnae want him to face this mess alone.” She sighed and flopped down on the oversized floor cushions. Faust curled around the hot mug Asra set down in front of her, the snake’s tongue flicking out curiously.

“No, I’m not mad at you, little lady.” Rosie said as she patted the snake’s coils. “Even if you did snitch on me.” 

“So, what happened? From the beginning.” Asra settled next to her, putting his arm around her as she leaned against him again. She hadn’t expected the story to spill out as easily as it did. Granted there were moments she omitted, but Asra had no reason to know about those. He sighed quietly after she had finished, his thumb running absentmindedly over the rim of his mug.

“That sure sounds like Ilya. And he took all day to end it? And you say you don’t even know if you were really together?” 

She shrugged, twisting the hem of her skirt. “It’s all foolishness, I suppose. Just a stupid little fling I got too into.” “Ilya,” Asra’s tone was one she’d seldom heard before. “The only thing he loves more than drama is his own suffering, and he’s determined to chase both.” 

“What am I to do?”

He squeezed her hand gently. “What do you want to do?" 

“I want to protect him,” she said quietly. “I want to show him that he’s not as terrible as he thinks.” “I can’t stop you,” he said as he scooped up their empty mugs. “I just want you to be careful. Who knows, maybe you can shake him from his ouroboros of self flagellation.” Rosie said nothing, just listened to the sound of water and ceramic clinking as Asra washed up. “Who knows? Stranger things have happened. Just please, don’t hurt yourself in the process.” 

Again she said nothing, just slowly pulled a folded piece of cloth out of her pocket. She opened it and stared down at its contents: a small lock of auburn hair, cut when Julian had slept. “Have you eaten? I’ll make dinner,” Asra fell silent as he saw what she held in her hands. “You’re not planning on cursing him, are you? Remember the last one…” 

She laughed and shook her head. ‘ You already took care of that, didn’t you ?’ She thought, remembering what Julian had said about the glowing mark on his throat. She wasn’t convinced it was Asra’s handiwork, but she couldn’t help but wonder. “I did not curse the last one,” she said as she started to rummage through a nearby chest. “There’s no magic involved in dumping a bag of termites outside of someone’s house. Can you get me our jar of black salt?” 

“Of course. I’ll get candles, too.”

‘ Let’s see, myrrh for protection. Clover for luck, borage for spell power… ’ Rosie ran through a list of reagents as she dug through the chest and cabinets. ‘ Rose quartz for… ’ she shook her head and slammed the box that held the small pink crystals shut. ‘ Citrine for hope. Bloodstone for courage. ’

“So,” Asra sat across from her, the candles lit and the reagents laid out on the coffee table. “What do you have in mind?” “Taglock,” she said as she poured a layer of black salt into a bottle. “If he doesn’t want me around to physically protect him, the least I can do is offer my magic.” “Taglocks are…they can be difficult. They take a lot of energy and a lot of focus. Are you sure?” 

She nodded as she added the crushed herbs. He watched her while she worked, never saying a word, though his eyes were full of concern. The soft glow of the candles gave her pale hair an ethereal halo as she sealed the vessel shut with wax. “Here goes,” she murmured as she tightly gripped the bottle. Magic started to crackle over her fingers, and the ring of gold in her eyes started to glow. As worried as he was, Asra couldn’t help but feel proud of how far her magic had come. But his pride turned to horror as glowing, teal colored cracks began to appear in her hands, the spell bottle rattling violently. She wasn’t just extending her energy, she was pouring out all of it. “Rosie?” She didn’t hear him. The glowing  cracks in her hands started to widen. “Rosie, stop!” Asra knocked the bottle out of her hands. It smashed on the floor, sending broken glass and smoke everywhere. She stared open mouthed at the smoldering remains, the taglock destroyed. 

“I’m sorry, I-” “What the hell, Asra?!” She rounded on him. “I’m sorry! But you were using so much power, you were going to hurt yourself,” he tried to take her hand and show her the still-glowing welts, but she shook him off. She swore and kicked the coffee table out of the way. Asra followed close behind her as she stomped back downstairs. “Rosie,” he said in a quiet voice. She ignored him as she pulled a hefty moonshine jug out of a cabinet and drank deeply. “I really didn’t mean to. I was scared you were going to be hurt.” She glared at him as she took another swig and leaned against the sink. 

“We could try again, some other form of protective-” “Wouldn’t much matter now. The link to him is destroyed. Doubt I’ll be able to get another.” “But-” “Doesn’t even like magic. Makes him all antsy. Cannae just give him a sachet and say ‘please hang onto these magic plants so you dunnae get drawn an’ quartered’, can I?” “You could,” he said gently. She snorted and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I should have known… I’m sleeping on the couch. Goodnight.” 

Asra sighed, hurt and guilt in his eyes as he turned away and retreated upstairs. Rosie finished the last of her drink before curling up into a tight ball on the couch. She grabbed a pillow and screamed into it until her voice was hoarse, staring at the wall until she fell into a fitful sleep. She had a sinking feeling that things were going to get worse before they got better.