#exactly who I wanted because I want Barcarola as well

[cheriafreya]

Special garments part 5

[svartalfhild]

Fanfic by xChampionOfNiflheimx

Rating: T Genre: Supernatural, Humor, Romance Words: 1,190 Summary: The young witch Rowan Axel writes anime fanfiction while her familiar judges her.  - - - «Vendrás conmigo»? dije? sin que nadie supiera dónde y cómo latía mi estado doloroso, y para mí no había clavel ni barcarola, nada sino una herida por el amor abierta. 

(Come with me, I said, and no one knew where, or how my pain throbbed, no carnations or barcaroles for me, only a wound that love had opened.)

~X~

There was no funeral for Cillian Bran, for despite the cries for justice from the dramatist’s adoring fans, he had been named an enemy of the state, not fit for any recognition.  And so here Theo Velasquez stood in the scrap yard, feline ears drooping as he watched Cillian’s mech, Hemlock’s Shade, be broken down, piece by piece.

As they carried away each component, Theo felt as if they were carrying away a piece of his heart, leaving him hollow and wondering what was left for him on this world.

“Wow, you’re laying it on thick.  Did you have a bad day?” Rowan’s snake familiar, Dave, asked upon poking his head out from under an open book at the witch’s side, which had the words “The Collected Works of Pablo Neruda” stamped across the spine.  Rowan stopped typing and turned to Dave only to give him a “Did I ask?” look.  “Hey, I’m not the one writing tragic romance fic and quoting love poetry,” Dave responded with a wiggle his owner had come to understand as a shrug.

“Listen, in the Firebrands fandom, it’s practically law that you have to put poetry in your fic.  To quote tumblr user rita-callwhomst ‘if it’s not extra af, what is even the point’,” Rowan countered, punctuating her statement by taking a Pringle from the can sitting on her other side and pointedly breaking off half of it between her teeth.

“Okay, but that still doesn’t answer my question,” Dave insisted and Rowan gave an exasperated sigh.

“I’m fine.”

“Rowan.”

“Fuck off, Dave.  I need to finish this update.”  With this, Rowan returned to her typing and blatantly ignored further prodding from her snake.

He didn’t know what would become of him now.  He didn’t know if he could continue to take paychecks from the people who had murdered Cillian.  His first thought was to fully take up his lover’s cause, but he found his heart soured to the idea.  The rebels had done nothing to protect Cillian; how could he stand with them?

Perhaps it would be best if he took his mech and left this planet altogether to make his own way.

“Smells like projecting,” Dave commented.  Rowan threw up her hands in frustration and glared at the snake coiling himself across her lap.

“Boy, why you gotta be all up in my business?”

“I can sense what you’re feeling.  It’s part of the whole familiar package, remember?  It’s my job to be concerned for you.”

“Listen.  I did what you asked.  I’m being more social.  I’ve let Rufus ‘Ghost of a Fucking Dead Man’ Grunberg into my life.  Can we just leave it there?”

“No, because you’re clearly beating yourself up about something.”  With this, Dave nudged his little head into Rowan’s side.  She irritatedly scooped him off her lap and set him behind her, saying nothing further as she attempted to get back to her writing.  She skipped ahead to a different section, hoping it would throw Dave off.

Saying farewell to Rita was not going to be easy.  Theo knew that.  His chest ached at the thought of it.  He hated the idea of wiping the smile off his dear friend’s face and it was written plain as any of his emotions across his feline features, ears drooping with melancholy as he approached the Calloughn estate.

He wandered for several minutes across the vast and carefully landscaped grounds, heading towards the great mansion that stood, old and strong, in white stone at the heart of the lush green property.  About halfway there, however, as he came around a row of trees, he heard voices and saw movement at the corner of his eye.

There, standing in the shade of a willow tree, were Rita and Dante, who appeared to be having an argument.

“Don’t you understand?  This isn’t how my life was supposed to be!  Before our mothers forced us into this for their own convenience, I was going to live my life how I wanted to, be what I wanted to be, be with whom I choose!” Rita ranted, hands gesturing wildly to express what seemed to be a great deal of pent up frustration.  Dante, in return, did not seem so much angry as...perhaps sad?  He was calm as he gave his reply.

“That can still be your life.”

“I don’t want to love you, Dante!  However much you might speak of honor and respect and duty or impress me with your sword,” Rita shot back.  Theo had never seen her so emotional.  The words seemed to come out of her with a great violence, as if she were trying to rip these feelings from her very being.  He desperately wanted to go to her, to take her away from the bastard who had so upset her, but he dared not move from where he stood.

“But do you, Rita?  Do you...do you love me?”  Dante’s voice was almost too soft to be heard as he said this and Rita went still.  For what felt like an eternity, there was no movement or sound between them, only Rita staring in shock at her fiancé, but then Dante spoke again.  “If you don’t, then I will release you from our engagement and never darken your doorstep again.  I could never bear to rob you of your freedom”.

There was a brief moment in which silence and stillness fell again before Rita appeared to make her choice, taking Dante’s face in her hands and pulling him down for a fiery kiss.  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer-

“There it is,” Dave interrupted once again, an irritating smugness in his tone.

“There’s what?” Rowan groaned.

“This absolutely wreaks of projection.  Things going well with Rufus, are they?”

“The fuck you talking about, Dave?”  There was a serious and defensive edge to Rowan’s tone now as she scowled at her snake, who looked back at her innocently, only frustrating her further.  “There are no ‘things’ with Rufus, got it? He’s just a dude I know who I see sometimes outside of class, which was your idea, by the way, so don’t be acting like there’s shit there that ain’t.”

“Wow, do you not even realize how much you sound exactly like your fanfiction?”

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll lock you in your tank.”  It was very clear now that Rowan was not even remotely playing around anymore and Dave seemed to get the message, because he finally slithered away.

“Someone needs to review Loki’s Rule,” he called as he went.

Rowan huffed and returned to her writing, finishing out her fic update in peace.  Who cared what Dave had to say about her personal life when there were people out there waiting for more angst fic from xChampionOfNiflheimx?

- - -

A/N: Firebrands isn’t a real anime.  It’s actually another RPG that my group plays and it’s an anime in the universe of our Monsterhearts game.

Also, Loki’s Rule is a tenet of the Rökkatru sect of Norse paganism which states that no matter what lies you might tell others, you must always be honest with yourself, and the greatest honor is speaking the truths others are afraid to hear.