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concussed-to-pieces · 4 months ago

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Arbiter's Solstice; Part One

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: There was a soft, liquid sound that you had grown to recognize as him running his tongue over his teeth, but the former lord offered no true reply to your impudent question. Instead, he remarked, almost idly, “do you know what happened to Miranda?”

A/N: I yield, I yield. Had to chop this up into a few parts and start posting them, otherwise I never would have gotten it finished. Welcome to an AU of extreme proportions, featuring multiple of my most favorite tropes in media. Enjoy!

Tag List: @stargazerofgoldenwords @cookiethewriter @crookedmoonsaultpunk @colesterstrudel @spoopyredacted @velvet-paradox @kotall-ohh @katreneebug @missjasmine98 @sunflowers-and-swear-words @savage-rhi @nova-ivy541 @xyaswrlldd @the-videodame @luvley-shadow @akashiiiiii @nerdygirlgamer1972 @problemdawgz

[If you were tagged in error, please let me know and I’ll remove you!]

[DISCLAIMER: The last Resident Evil I played was Resident Evil 1. I have not played Resident Evil Village. I have, as ever, extensively dug into the wiki and other available resources, yet I know I am by no means an expert on the subject matter. I ask only for leniency and your charity in this endeavor, as well as forgiveness for any out of character moments or glaring mistakes. Thank you so much for your interest!]

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains gore, mentions of death, canon-typical violence and extreme depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]

When the elderly Mother Miranda had passed due to an extremely harsh Winter, the Lords had fallen briefly to infighting before partially uniting under the bloody banner of Dimitrescu, much to the dismay of House Heisenberg. There upon the bleak fields of the Heisenberg estate two nightmarish armies had met in a final clash, and the Soldats of Lord Heisenberg succumbed.

For his crimes of attempted usurpery, treachery and deceit, Lord Heisenberg was stripped of his lands and title and confined to the dungeons of Castle Dimitrescu, where he was drained of his previous strength by blood wards and terrible magics. Every year on the solstice since then, a new servant was chosen to attend to him, both a great honor and a devastating burden.

It had always been this or that, and you found that you could endure this.

…

Into a life of servitude you had been pressed at a very young age. Cleaning the floors, setting the table, trimming candle wicks. Once you grew strong enough it turned to bringing buckets of water in from the well for the kitchen or slopping the pigs, oiling the tack and saddles and mucking out the stables.

It had always been either this or that, and while you had survived this long, you knew you hadn't the strength to endure much more of the mistreatment at the hands of Lady Alcina and her…lovely daughters.

Then, you were Chosen. A great honor, so they said, reserved for only a select few. You were, of course, not released from your usual tasks. This was just one more thing for you to manage.

A terrifying lord, a ferocious fighter, The Iron Horse.

You knew the prisoner had been all those things and more, for all that he was incapacitated now. Indeed, the former Lord Karl Heisenberg seemed to linger in a dreamlike half-conscious state, so devoid of the purported verve and brimstone of his past. All that remained of that man he had been (from what you had heard, anyway) was the way he bolted his food from the proffered tray like a hungry vârcolac, hardly pausing to breathe, his unkempt facial hair often matted with the gruel-ridden remains of his meals. Food was the only thing to rouse him from his doldrums, and so it was food that was brought to him.

Every week since you had been picked to become Heisenberg's handmaiden you made the slow, trembling descent to the cell he had been bound to, a flimsy wooden tray in your hands. But it was either this or that, and you could endure bringing gruel-slop to an incapacitated prisoner, the occasional attempts to clean food off his face or blood from his back. At the very least, it kept you out of sight of the other lords for a few extra moments. It was technically safer. Technically.

Until the day when Heisenberg raised his head to look at you.

…

You nearly leaped out of your skin, startled to the point where you dropped the tray. It hit the floor with a loud bang and you crouched for a moment, curling into yourself defensively.

There was a loud snort and you heard the creaking of the ropes that bound him, but you didn't dare to look up. You began fumbling to get the bowl back onto the tray, grateful that it hadn't spilled much. The Lady was more than content to give Heisenberg nothing but the dregs of the kitchen, and sometimes not even that–

You felt hot breath huff out over your head and your hands clenched on the tray. He must have lowered his head again, adjusted himself somehow. A sharp nose nudged the crown of your head and there was a rattling inhale.

“F-Forgive me, my lord.” You stared down at the tray, internally panicking as you watched the bowl begin to quiver due to your nervous shaking. “I did not mean to disturb you.” Truthfully, you had bumped his upper arm with the tray when you stumbled on the uneven, crumbling floor, but he had actually responded to the touch, his head snapping up with alarming speed. Normally the only thing that would get him to move was the bowl placed beneath his nose.

You raised the tray so that he could eat (operating mainly off of muscle memory), and you were horrified when you accidentally caught Lord Heisenberg's gaze through his hair. His eyes felt like they were burning you alive, the intensity of that half-lidded chartreuse stare making you want to flee. Blessedly it was only for the scantest of moments that he studied you, the former lord soon returning to his meal with the dispassionate attitude of a large predator ignoring prey not worth their time. You averted your own gaze, uncertain of the punishment that could be exacted for making eye contact with the Iron Horse.

Heisenberg slurped at the bowl, the meager contents of which began to trickle down his chin and into his wiry, unkempt beard. Once more operating out of habit, you reached forward with a corner of your apron. You often wiped his mouth after he was finished eating, otherwise whatever he ate would mat into the disarray of facial hair he sported. Today however, the former lord’s tongue made quick work of the dribbles before you could even reach them.

His nose grazed your outstretched hand. “Th--ank…you.”

You knew your sudden gasp was rude, but you had also never been thanked once in your life. Servitude was expected, anticipated, demanded of you, why would anyone ever…

It had sounded like it was difficult for him to speak. He had never spoken before, you didn’t even know he could! You needed to respond, you had to say something. You finally managed to whisper, “y-you're welcome, Lord Heisenberg,” your grip tightening on the tray handles.

“Everyone else…” Another long, eternally long pause. It was so long, you wondered whether he had gone back to sleep. “...fears me. Hates me.” Those green eyes met yours once more, and you could have sworn there was the faintest gleam of curiosity. “Not you?”

Your swallow was too loud. You cringed on reflex, frantically trying to think of a response. It was true, most of the other villagers spoke poorly of the former lord. Some would even go so far as to spit when they mentioned him, and the Lady certainly harbored no great love for him. Honesty, you decided, the Lady would want me to be honest.

“You are a prisoner and…and you have not been cruel to me.” Your voice trembled slightly. “I see no reason to be cruel to you.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners and your stomach lurched terribly when you noticed, for he was smiling. “Oh, but I can be. You have no idea the cruelty I'm capable of.” The rasp of his voice lent a horrendous sense of surety to his words; you did not doubt that someone who was a sort of sibling to the other lords could be extremely cruel.

There was another agonizingly long pause. Your breath came quick and sharp. He seemed to be waiting for something from you, much as you didn't want to continue the unnerving conversation. “W-Well, you haven't been,” you managed to repeat weakly, praying that you wouldn't be punished for your blunt observation.

Heisenberg grunted, shifting his weight slightly. After a moment you heard his breathing even out. He had drifted back to slumber, then, or whatever his kind considered as such. You allowed a sigh of relief to escape you, then scurried out of the cell.

…

It was a week later that you made your way back into the dungeons, the tray bearing the usual bowl with various refuse from the week's meals and, safely hidden in your apron pocket, a few precious pieces of venison from dinner's herb-studded pot roast. It had smelled delicious while it was cooking; even now, hours later, your empty stomach twinged with hunger at the memory of the scent.

Being a humble servant you were, of course, not permitted to eat at the Lady’s table, instead subsisting off of much of the same scraps that Lord Heisenberg did. However, you could at least take your items from plates left behind on the table, instead of the kitchen’s slop bucket for the pigs. While they didn't exactly eat, Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters often pantomimed at dining, which led to half-mangled leftovers that you could safely manage to survive off of. The Lady Beneviento and Lord Moreau were the only ones who truly ate at mealtimes, though Lady Beneviento would often painstakingly cut her dinner into tiny bites to feed her strange doll for most of the meal.

When you went to feed Lord Heisenberg, the Lady Dimitrescu would stand over you as you poured the slurry from the bucket into a bowl, watching like a hawk to ensure her ‘dear brother’ wasn't ‘getting more than his due’. It was the most nerve-wracking part of your chores. Too little and she would scold you, “do you want Heisenberg to perish?”, but too much led to you being pitched across the room while the tall woman raged wildly overhead. There was no consistency either; some days you were barely permitted to cover the bottom of the bowl, while others had the bowl overflowing with the foul mixture. You supposed it was all down to the whims of the Lady, nothing more complex than that.

You wiped the sweat from your brow, frowning when you touched a tender spot. For all his simpering, Lord Moreau bore the burden of an explosive temper, the Piscean lord having lashed out at you earlier over a soup that was ostensibly too thick. Perhaps the temper was a family trait? Regardless, you were lucky that you had survived his outburst with nothing but some bruising. You knew many villagers had been torn limb from limb by the troubled lord, so you did your best to avoid garnering his attention for good or ill.

The cell (which was more of an enclosure really, a holding pen made of some sturdy, nearly-black wood) was damp, cold year-round and rarely frequented by the odd stray rat or crow. It wasn't exactly a sealed or watertight environment; the stone walls and stairs were coated with slimy moss and tiny trickles of water from the reservoir. But something about the area seemed to make most ordinary creatures give it a wide berth. Perhaps it was a combination of the smell of blood and the wards carved into that strange wood? You tried not to dwell on the subject, finding that the longer you thought about it, the more your skin crawled.

“My lord?” You called your usual greeting, grateful when he stirred at the sound of your voice. Some days it was harder than others to rouse him to consciousness. “Your meal, Lord Heisenberg.”

Just as he always did, Heisenberg hungrily tucked into the slop. While he was thus preoccupied you cautiously took one of the pieces of venison you had procured from the table and slipped it into the bowl with a soft plop. Despite your attempt at stealth the former lord seemed to immediately take notice if his sudden pause was any indicator. Again that stare was leveled at you, drowsy eyes somehow still managing to pin you in place.

“Where–did you get that?”

You hadn't expected him to speak to you again. You took a moment to recover from your shock, eventually getting out, “th-the dinner table, sir.”

His only response was a wordless grunt, the man quickly digging his teeth into the bloody, herb-laden bit of meat. A soft groan escaped him as he swallowed and you couldn't help the flush that heated your face, fixing your attention pointedly on the tray in front of you.

“I have more for you. I've already eaten.” You lied rapidly before you could think better of it, fishing around in your apron pocket for a moment. Heisenberg's expression, what little of it you could see through the curtain of his hair, had gone wary. Yellow-green eyes drifted sluggishly from your outstretched palm to your face, then back to your hand. “If you don't eat it, it will go to waste.” You insisted, trying for a reassuring smile.

The ropes binding him creaked suddenly. He lowered his head and you felt cracked lips, sharp teeth and a warm tongue barely graze your palm, then he was withdrawing to devour in peace. You exhaled as subtly as you could, trying your hardest not to seem terrified. Why on earth had you offered it to him in your hand?! He wasn't some tame beast, he was Lord Heisenberg! You were incredibly blessed to still possess your fingers.

He had left one piece in your hand. You looked up, confused, but he had already buried his face in the bowl anew to finish off the last of the slop. Nervously you tucked the final bit of meat into your mouth, chewing it slowly to savor it as much as you could.

“Thank you.” The lord's voice sounded slightly stronger, much to your surprise.

“O-Of course, m-m-my lord.” You stammered, trying and failing to keep your tone from squeaking.

The ropes hummed slightly under the strain of Heisenberg's motions, the man adjusting his legs beneath him until he was nearly able to stand properly. He loomed over you, still hunched somewhat, grunting in what seemed to be effort. You pressed your back to the wood behind you, bracing yourself for whatever might come next.

His nose brushed the bruise on your forehead and you flinched. “Moreau.” The animosity in his tone made you want to crumple, for all that it didn't seem to be aimed at you. The man inhaled, the subsequent growl coming from his chest. “-and the colossal bitch.”

“My lord–” you attempted to protest, assuming he must mean the Lady Alcina.

“Dinner was exquisite.” Heisenberg said abruptly, his eyes looking more alert than they ever had to your memory. “I'd be honored if you'd join me again next week.” His voice still sounded ragged, but he no longer had to pause between words.

Your knees shook beneath you but you managed a nod. After all, you didn't have much choice. You had to bring him his meals, otherwise it was back to Alcina and her spawn. It was always either this or that, and you could handle this.

Probably.

…

Sneaking Lord Heisenberg bits of unspoiled food from the dinner table became normal over the following weeks as the spring-gray valley shifted into the forest green of summer. Discarded chunks of meat and gristle, bits of bread, fruits that were a touch too ripe to catch the fickle attentions of the ladies of the village…Lord Heisenberg accepted every meager offering you managed to provide with a rough sort of gratitude, always inclining his head even if he didn't manage to speak. Talking seemed to tax him greatly, though certain days found him nearly alert, and he was not so prone to drowsiness as he once was.

“Where are you when you aren't bringing me my dinner?” He queried unprompted one evening, glancing up at you.

“I…” you hesitated. The man obviously bore no fondness for Lady Dimitrescu, perhaps you ought to lie about your usual occupations? Nothing good ever came from being untruthful, though. “I tend to Lady Alcina and her daughters.”

He grumbled, “That explains the smell.” While you were trying to decide whether you ought to be offended, the former lord shook himself bodily. His arms, bound to the wall behind him by those strange ropes, made a few distressing cracking noises and he grunted, this time sounding pained. “Can you–my back is…” he trailed off, trying to straighten up.

“Oh, of course.” You placed the tray down, pausing uncertainly by his shoulder. He had evidently been whipped recently, his back covered in half-healed lash marks. The tattered remains of his shirt were stuck to a few of the wounds and so you gently peeled it free, assuming that was what he needed in order to make himself more comfortable.

“Thank you.” His mouth was right next to your ear when he spoke, causing you to flinch at his husky whisper.

“W-Whatever you need.” You mumbled, keeping your eyes on the floor while you retreated. You weren't certain what then possessed you to ask, “does it…does it hurt when she does that to you?”

Overhead, a crow that had been pecking at the bars cawed loudly, the sudden noise making you start. There was a soft, liquid sound that you had grown to recognize as him running his tongue over his teeth, but the former lord offered no true reply to your impudent question. Instead, he remarked, almost idly, “do you know what happened to Miranda?”

Miranda. Mother Miranda? “She…we lost her to the winter. It was a-” your brow furrowed as you tried to recall what Lady Alcina had called the illness. “-pneumonia?”

Heisenberg roared; it took you several terrified moments to realize that he was laughing hard enough to make him wheeze. The crow took flight in a frightened rush. “Pneumonia, that's a fucking riot.” He finally snorted, shaking his head. “As if that old hag could be taken out so easily.”

“Don't–!” You began to protest before your brain caught up with just who it was that you were speaking to. Those strange yellow-green eyes leveled at you, as if he was daring you to continue. “Don't speak about her like that.” You finished, your voice barely a whisper.

“Were you even born when all that happened?” Karl sounded incredulous, but not irritated. Heartened, you shook your head, only to be battered by his harsh tone a moment later, “so you know exactly fuck all.”

“I know what I've been taught,” you replied tartly, “just like everyone else. Lady Dimitrescu is very thorough with our histories.”

Heisenberg rolled his eyes, looking for all the world like a sulky teenager. “As I said. Fuck all.”

You jerked upright, seizing the tray and marching out of the cell with the sound of the former lord's half-crazed laughter ringing in your ears.

You wanted to be infuriated, you wanted to be upset at his insinuation. But…

What could he know about Mother Miranda's death? It was true, you hadn't even been born when Miranda had passed. All you knew was what you'd been told by the Lady, what you had read in the histories of the castle.

What did Karl know that you didn't know? Was there more to the story than what you had been led to believe?

…

As the summer solstice drew near, preparations began to get underway for the annual festival. With the extra work you were hard-pressed to bring Heisenberg his meals in a timely manner, often stumbling down the stairs exhausted well after the sun had set.

The former lord seemed to regress somewhat as the solstice approached, no longer raising his head when you visited and simply waiting for his food with a vacant expression. Not that you were looking at his face! Absolutely not, you knew better than that. You simply assumed, that was all.

One evening you tripped on your hem, taking a nasty fall at the bottom of the stairs that knocked the wind out of you. Tears welled up in your eyes while you laid there on the hard-packed dirt, your scraped elbow resting awkwardly against the wall. A quiet little hiccup made its way out and you heard Heisenberg stir in his cell, the ropes creaking much louder than you expected.

“You–alright?” He called, voice grating harshly. “Anything broken?”

“Fine, I'm fine.” You grumbled, mainly to yourself, wiping the tears that had managed to escape. “Just winded.” You rolled over, moving to try and collect the tray and its spilled contents. Luckily the bowl had sloshed over onto the tray itself instead of the floor, and the prize in your pocket was unharmed. You breathed a sigh of relief, getting to your feet.

A low, raspy chuckle issued from the imprisoned man. “That's the first time you've talked to me like I was a real person.” Terrified by your momentary lapse in propriety, you tried to stammer out an apology. “Nothing wrong with it, sweetheart. If anything…it's a comfort to know I'm human to you.”

Sweetheart. A casual endearment, a kind way of addressing you. You were flushed immediately, continuing to stutter as you tottered your way across the floor. “U-Um, with dinner, I…” you finally paused, pulling free the precious loaf of herb-infused bread. “I found this. F-For you.” You knew the lie was weak, you knew he knew exactly where you'd gotten the bread. You had taken it directly from the ovens, wrapped it in a napkin and snuck it out before setting the table for the evening meal. It was your first and only act of true thievery, and you just prayed that no one would notice its absence. You didn't think you would survive that beating.

The former lord's eyes met your own and your heart started to hammer in your chest the longer he stared. He had never made such prolonged eye contact with you. It was terrifying, but…you didn't want it to end, either. Confused, you attempted to ignore that desire and instead tore a small piece off the loaf, extending it to him in the palm of your hand. He had never expressed any annoyance with your odd behavior and so you had persisted, but today…

Heisenberg's eyes narrowed. For a moment he reminded you of the animal you had once seen him as, the man refusing to break eye contact as he leaned down to eat from your palm. You chose to avert your eyes, more than a little bewildered by how you felt. His teeth delicately latched down onto the bread and you immediately retreated to pull off a fresh piece, the herbs staining your fingertips green as you did so. You were startled when he licked your fingers next, instead of simply taking the bread as he had before. Without intending to, you let out a surprised little squeak.

The lord’s eyes shot back up to your own and, while you couldn't precisely tell through the thick, matted facial hair he sported, you were almost certain that he was smirking at you. “What's wrong? Afraid I'll snap them off?” He chuckled. Truthfully you had actually considered that and he must have noticed the shudder which ran through you, because he quickly continued, “I'd be an idiot to bite the hand that feeds me, sweetheart. Especially after you've been so…accommodating.”

“I don't-” you paused, debating on just how brave you wanted to be. “Why does she keep you down here?”

“Fear.” Heisenberg's teeth flashed while he chewed his next bite. “I'm strong, even like this. I'll tear her throat out and she knows it.”

You balked. “You would fight the Lady?”

Lord Heisenberg shrugged as best as he could manage. “Why not? Something to do, right? Maybe I'll have better luck this time.”

This time.

“How many–”

“Can I get some more of that bread?” Heisenberg interrupted before you could finish your question, his attention fixed pointedly on the remainder of the small loaf in your hand.

“Oh! Of course, I'm sorry.” You pulled off another piece and gave it to him, marveling slightly at the docile way he ate it out of your palm. It was thrilling in a way, like gaining the trust of a skittish creature. You doubted he would be fond of the comparison, though. He didn't strike you as the docile type despite his current state.

“Alcina and I were close once, you know.” Heisenberg continued to chew the bread almost meditatively after he spoke, leaving you to await his next sentence with baited breath. “I was loyal to her, if you can believe that.” The former lord's expression darkened. “A faithful little mongrel.”

Your heart sank. “What happened?”

He didn't deign to answer you for several minutes. You had all but given up hope for a response when he spoke next. “Ambition.” The word was sneered, derision dripping from every letter. “Alcina didn't want to kill sweet, helpless Mother Miranda herself, but she sure as hell could get someone else to do it.” Karl’s sigh echoed in the cell. “And get someone else to take the fall for it when the old witch turned up dead. Pneumonia,” he scoffed, “she's sanitizing. That bitch and I both know what happened that day, and we both know why she went after me so hard.”

��To keep you under her control?” you ventured timidly.

Heisenberg's grin was full of more teeth than you'd like, most of them stained a dull green from the herbs in the bread. “To keep me from ripping her apart for her betrayal.” He clarified, his tone an odd singsong. “You should have heard what she promised me, that Amazonian fuck. My own village out of the valley, my own dominion, freedom. And like a blind fool, I…” He trailed off, his burning gaze going vacant.

“You believed her.” Now this, you could sympathize with. The Lady Dimitrescu had always been cruel to you, but it was the occasional softening of her tone, the honeyed promises she would make and break to you and the rest of the servants… ”I'm sorry.”

The former lord bared his teeth again. “I won't make that mistake again,” he hissed. “Someday, someday–she'd better watch that enormous back of hers.”

“Why does she whip you, then? I feel like that's…er, not intelligent.” You tried to be delicate, the guilt from speaking poorly about the Lady pricking your conscience.

Heisenberg lolled his head in your direction. “Blood, sweetheart. She's in the wine business and I guess my affinity for my…gift makes me a pretty decent vintage. Almost as good as her sweet little virgins.” The former lord stared at you thoughtfully for a moment, then closed his eyes. He abruptly seemed exhausted, his body going slack in his binds.

You took that as your cue to leave, carefully retrieving the tray and rising to your feet. As you turned to depart, however, Karl spoke up once more.

“Keep coming back to me, will you?” He requested, his voice soft. “We don't have much longer.”

Your brow furrowed in concern, but you nodded obediently.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, you were surprised to find Lady Beneviento's favorite doll, Angie, propped up in the corner of the landing. “Now how did you get there?” You mused aloud, wiping your hands clean on your apron before you carefully picked the doll up. Angie's eyes, as ever, seemed to follow your every move, and you couldn't help but marvel at the skilled craftsmanship that permitted such an illusion. “I'd better get you back to Lady Beneviento, little miss. No doubt she's missing you.”

Later that evening once you'd bedded down for the night, you found yourself tossing and turning despite your exhaustion.

‘We don't have much longer’. What could he mean by that?

…

Apparently what he meant was that you would be an integral part of the binding ritual on the solstice. You had always assumed (perhaps naively) that Lord Heisenberg's handmaidens were reassigned to serve in one of the lesser houses after their year of service, but now the whole horrible truth was being laid out neatly in front of you.

Sacrifice, human sacrifice. A handmaiden every solstice to keep Heisenberg bound, virgin blood spilled by the House Dimitrescu as was their want.

You had been dragged from your bedding in the lightless hours of predawn, barely aware of what was occurring before a burlap sack was thrown over your head and you were struck hard enough to lose consciousness.

You drifted in and out, the burlap difficult to breathe through. Someone was moving, shifting, carrying you for what seemed like hours until suddenly, freezing cold stone met the backs of your legs. You jolted to full awareness at the shocking chill, realizing as you did that your legs were bare to the knee and whatever you were wearing was not what you had worn to sleep.

The sack was torn from your head and you immediately darted your eyes around, fear and panic welling up as you realized you had never seen this room before. Some secret chamber in the bowels of Castle Dimitrescu, if you had to guess.

A marble altar beneath you piled high with dead branches, shallow channels etched into the marble flooring, and…

And the former Lord Heisenberg kneeling beside the altar, his head bowed and his hands bound in front of him.

You barely had the time to ponder that curiosity (why on earth would someone tie Heisenberg's hands in front of him?) before your attention was redirected to your own predicament. Your arms had been secured at the wrist and elbow, hands folded at the small of your back. From the ache of your muscles at the unnatural position, you could assume you'd been bound for a while. You were quickly realizing, to your dismay, that you were hardly clothed. Your normal garb had been replaced by a thin stained shift, only just long enough to brush your knees.

“Awake, awake, awake,” came the reedy voice of Lord Moreau, and his large, damp hand clumsily brushed your cheek. “Finally awake! Little morsel, l-l-little treat.”

You were unable to hide your revulsion, flinching back from his touch. The Piscean lord looked momentarily teary, but he quickly mastered himself and rewarded your lack of manners with a sharp blow to your face. The strike sent you tumbling off the altar, your shoulder meeting the marble with a hard thud. You bit your lip, willing yourself to stay quiet. It was always worse if you gave a reaction.

There was an infuriated-sounding gurgle and then Moreau was seizing your arm hard enough to make you cry out, the lord dragging you to your feet and tossing you back onto the altar as if you weighed nothing at all. “Be silent, be silent, Alcina trusted me with this.” He spoke half to himself, his webbed hands roiling over one another while he paced. “She's so busy, so busy, she trusted her favorite-”

“That super-sized bitch wouldn't trust you to wake up in the morning.” Heisenberg groaned. “This is sloppy work, Moreau. We've never done a pyre and the branches aren't even dry, you stupid fuck.”

“Don't call me that!” Moreau shrieked, his voice breaking. “Mother said-”

“Miranda's dead,” Karl interrupted him flatly. “She's dead and nothing that any of you do will bring her back. That old hag is rotting where she belongs.”

Moreau burbled wordlessly, clutching at his head before wailing, “stop saying those things about Mother!”

“Dead. Old. Bitch.” Heisenberg sneered, the former lord finally managing to kneel upright properly so he could glare at his ‘sibling’. Moreau quailed momentarily, watery eyes flicking in your direction.

“You…you have helped him!” He accused you, the piercing whine of his voice making you wince. “What have you done? Tell me what you've done!” Those webbed hands wrapped around your throat in an iron grip, the lord dissolving into gibbering hysterics while he began to choke the life out of you.

You knew full well that Lord Salvatore Moreau could easily have snapped your neck, but he seemed to have slipped into some kind of irrational madness. The knowledge did you little good, however. The reality was that you would die all the same whether he strangled you or broke your neck. As he shook you, you wondered whether anyone in the kitchens would even notice you were gone. Your hands clenched in their binds, more of a reflex than a true attempt to free yourself, but you managed to swing one feeble kick out at Moreau's side. Naturally, the aquatic lord entirely ignored it.

“Moreau!” Heisenberg's tone sounded strangely urgent when he barked the other lord's name. “If you kill them now, you'll fuck up Alcina's plan!”

Salvatore started, his grip easing minutely. “And you'll get free.” The naked fear in his voice cut through your rattled senses. Heisenberg's response was a low, guttural snarl. “I cannot fail.” Purpose and surety seemed to be breathed anew into Moreau's hideous form, the lord hurriedly lurching away to acquire a torch from a nearby sconce.

As soon as his back was turned, Heisenberg caught your eye. The man jerked his chin to the side, indicating the direction of the door to the chamber. Run, he seemed to mouth, but between your current disorientation and his tangled facial hair you were unsure. You shook your head all the same, confused and scared by the ferocity his face took on afterwards.

Karl leaned forward, bared his teeth and snapped them at you. Run, now!

You tried to stand and the uneven pile of damp branches beneath you gave way, toppling over and half-burying you in the process. Moreau made a noise of distress, shambling back towards you with a torch in hand. “What h-have you done, oh what has happened?” He asked in dismay. “All my hard work–and the solstice-! You keep ruining everything!” The lord raged, his temper seeming to flare once more. “I cannot allow-”

Clang!

The noise echoed sharply off the walls, making Moreau jump. All you could see from your awkward vantage point was that it looked like one of the sconces on the wall had given way, dumping a torch onto the chamber’s floor. The misshapen lord huffed out angrily, throwing down the torch he'd carried onto the pile of sticks by your leg.

You frantically tried to get away from the guttering flames, the dampness of the surrounding wood your only saving grace at the moment. Moreau giggled softly to himself, obviously enjoying your panicky struggle before he sauntered off towards the newly-downed torch.

Another metallic noise rang out further down the hall, but you were so intent on escaping the smoking nest around you you didn't bother looking up to see what had made the sound.

Moreau, on the other hand, released a frustrated bellow and shambled off faster.

You finally managed to roll away from the majority of the embers, the torch dying a slow death smothered by soggy, green wood. Sticks stabbed and poked into your stomach and back but you continued, doggedly kicking free of the limbs after several fitful moments.

Karl was abruptly over you, his hunched form blocking whatever meager light the torches provided. “Still.” He breathed, his voice barely a whisper. “Be still.”

You obeyed, halting on your side. The former lord bent even further, supporting his weight by planting his fists on the floor. Something whipped past your ear and then there was a bright, vibrant pain in your right upper arm. Heisenberg cursed under his breath when you gasped out, the man’s eyes darting to your own.

Your hands were suddenly loosed of their bonds, and you did your best to refrain from groaning as pins and needles surged down from your shoulders to your fingertips. Curling into yourself, you took note of the fact that a small cut now graced your upper arm.

Karl grimaced. “I missed.” After flexing your fingers experimentally, you reached forward and dug your nails into the thick, rust-stained rope that was wrapped around his wrists. Heisenberg jerked back, obviously spooked by your speed. “Won't matter.” He muttered, but he also didn't try to pull away again.

You struggled with the knots, wiping rusty-maroon flakes off your sweaty palms over and over again in an effort to secure a better grip. Finally, you managed to weasel your index into a tight loop, coaxing it into loosening.

You felt Karl exhale hard, his breath ghosting over the top of your head. However, with your bare knees pressed to the cold marble floor, you sensed her approach before you truly heard it. “The Lady.” You whispered, horror seizing your body in that familiar vise grip.

Heisenberg fell over himself in his effort to retreat, the man again indulging in a prolonged exhale of expletives. Lady Dimitrescu's voice echoed down the hall, “--you know I don't have much time Salvatore, and you promised me you could manage this…”

“I can! I can, o-of course I can.” Moreau sounded nauseatingly frantic, wet footsteps following in the wake of Lady Dimitrescu's stately heels. “I just needed a bit more…a little b-bit more time, that's all. They are not cooperating.”

“Dear, sweet Moreau, why would they? Humans are terrified of getting their heads cut off.” Alcina's words were said kindly, but you felt like you'd been punched in the stomach.

Karl hung his head from his spot on his knees, continuing to pepper the tepid air with his whispered bouts of inventive profanity.

You turned your gaze to the hallway, a shudder running down your spine as the Lady Dimitrescu and Lord Moreau entered the chamber. Dimitrescu began clicking her tongue, seeming disappointed. “Salvatore, what is all this debris?”

“A pyre!” You couldn't believe it when the lord pulled himself up and puffed his chest out proudly. “To burn the sacrifice.”

Alcina rubbed her temples.

There was a flash of movement and Moreau sailed through the air, crashing headfirst into the floor with a dull crunch. “Well, now that that's managed.” The giant woman remarked cheerily, stalking towards you. “Afraid I don't have the luxury of time on my side, so you'll be going to your grave with questions unanswered.”

You were wrenched upright, feet momentarily leaving the floor with the force of the motion. While you were grateful to be wholly free of the prickly limbs, you knew you were now even further from safety than you had been with Lord Moreau.

“Greet my dear brother, won't you?” Lady Dimitrescu cooed in your ear, her nails digging into your shoulders like talons.

You winced, trying to muster up the ability to speak. Your mouth was so dry. “Lord Heisenberg-” You managed to say, but you were cuffed across the head by Alcina without warning, the blow crumpling you to your knees once more.

While you attempted to stand again Lady Dimitrescu chided you, her tone that of a fondly exasperated parent. “Little one, you know my dear brother was stripped of his title. He is just Heisenberg, just my silly brother.”

“I apologize, my Lady.” You breathed, bracing your aching forehead momentarily on the freezing marble flooring. “Please forgive my mistake, I had no intention of offending. I simply did not know how to address the L–how to address him.”

“You should not be addressing him at all!” Alcina snapped, her wrathful eruption making you cringe. “You were to bring him his sustenance and leave. You were not supposed to make idle conversation and dawdle with this pathetic–miserable–!”

“Shut your fucking hole!” Heisenberg shouted abruptly. You dared to sneak a glance in his direction and he was glaring at Lady Dimitrescu, his expression so decidedly full of hatred that for a moment, you were unsure which of them scared you more. “Every damn year we go through this. Just get on with it already, you colossal-”

Alcina's pointed shoe buried itself in your ribs, the towering woman kicking you aside as if you weighed nothing at all. Your stomach ended up crashing into the top of the altar and you fought for breath, vision graying at the edges while your fingers clawed for a grip on the smooth stone. Through the remaining tangle of branches you felt an ornate handle, and you clutched down on instinct as you slid back off the altar to the floor. A blade met your eyes when you furtively glanced down, the sharp edge blackened with some sort of strange patina, but you didn't exactly have time to ponder the object for the Lady was speaking once more.

“I've heard tell, Heisenberg. The kitchen maids have mentioned spotting your little lamb sneaking food.” The Lady hissed. “Sneaking it to you, to poor, poor Heisenberg.”

“No.” The former lord retorted flatly. “Whatever they did with it, it wasn't for me. Maybe they were feeding a wild animal or-”

Lady Dimitrescu's fingers wound into your hair and she pulled you up onto your knees, the agony leaving you trembling. “Not a sound from your little pet, not a sound! So brave for you.” The woman crooned, tightening her grip until your scalp began to pound. “So brave and so, so foolish. Donna told me everything, little pet.”

“You titanic cunt, I already told you they didn't do anything for me!” Karl barked.

“You're so lively, Heisenberg! Normally you can barely even open your eyes. I wonder why that is.” The Lady hummed, almost to herself.

Heisenberg replied curtly, “because your moron wound me a little tight. Honestly I can't believe you trusted that idiot with something so important. You're clearly slipping.” He leaned back, shooting Alcina a look that somehow managed to be condescending. “Gettin’ fat and lazy, are we?”

Your only warning was feeling the Lady's fingers twitch. Driven by pure survival and an overwhelming desire to live, you stabbed the blade of whatever weapon you had grabbed backwards under your arm into Alcina's leg. She screamed, her hold on you slacking for a single moment, and you seized that moment to lunge for Karl.

A terrifying lord, a ferocious fighter, The Iron Horse.

“Please-!” You begged Heisenberg, frantically ripping at the knots still securing his hands. “Please, please please–” your mouth couldn't seem to utter any other words while the former lord stared dumbly down at you, then up at the Lady. You dissolved into panicked tears, hiccuping and dropping your forehead to rest on his chest in defeat.

The ancient, blood-drenched flax abruptly parted beneath your fingers like water. Karl's chest expanded as the former lord took a deep breath.

Alcina's talons drove through your shoulder and you were flung back into the side of the altar. The last thing you could recall was your temple splitting on the sharp marble corner. You could have sworn you heard Karl yell something hoarsely, and then…nothing.

…

Eternity.

Eternity spent under someone else's thumb, eternity serving another's ambitions, eternity waiting for his promised reward.

Brave, strong, loyal Heisenberg. Even the memory of their faux mother's words made him feel ill. It had always been some sort of test, a trial to overcome, just a bit further, until the resentment and Alcina's clever little jabs had burrowed deep enough for him to do something…regrettable.

Though, only regrettable in the sense that it allowed Dimitrescu to have her way. Karl would never regret what he did to Miranda. The old witch had used him long enough, and he made her end swift. The fight with Alcina was…much less simple. Frankly, he had underestimated her and as such, Heisenberg lost spectacularly.

Thus began the second eternity in his life, one where he faded dreamily in and out of consciousness for year after year. Eat the scraps, take his licks, go back to sleep. An interminable slog of time while he did his best to maintain the barest hold on his extremely-limited sanity, the yearly sacrifice-that-did-not-know pitching his food at him in disdain and laughing as the thin gruel dripped down his chin…

Worse were the lash days, where Dimitrescu took fiendish delight in wringing him dry for her decadent (in every sense of the word) vino. There, his consciousness had no recourse but to flare awake every time the whip snapped into his flesh, an ever-constant reminder of his pride, his failure. Not so much the physical pain, that he was no stranger to, but Alcina laughing uproariously at him made him want to rip himself apart from the inside out.

Silly little brother, did you really believe me?

It was always one thing or another in this damned place. Heisenberg existed in what felt like a tight, seamless loop of time. Over and over, over and over, insanity defined.

But then the most recent failure from Alcina's cadre of housekeepers began to bring him his meals. Another year had come and gone, another sacrifice-that-did-not-know, and Karl was exhausted to his very marrow. Maybe that was why he had spoken to you.

Or maybe he was just bored, and he had to admit your timid behavior was a little funny, especially after enduring the disrespect of countless others before you. You spoke to him like he was still a title-holding lord, like he still had his ill-fated army at his disposal and was still a tangible threat. It was entertaining, if nothing else.

You have not been cruel to me. I see no reason to be cruel to you.

He hadn't exactly meant to smile, but it had happened regardless. To think, after all the terrible things he had done, after all the blood he had spilled…that there would be anyone left who could claim he hadn't been cruel to them-! It was so unbelievable that he couldn't help his sardonic grin.

If only it had ended there. If he'd had any damn brains in his head, Karl knew he would have ended it there. That he hadn't spoke volumes to his mental state. Lowering himself to this level…there had been a time in his life where he would have taken as much notice of a human in his presence as he would have the wallpaper. Now, he found himself craving the albeit limited socialization and, while his pride wanted to mourn the loss of his beloved ‘superiority’, his flickering sanity simply appreciated the reliable interaction.

And you snuck him food. Real food, real food, iron-rich venison and herbed breads, real. The green herbs of the valley in particular had always been touted as a cure-all and Heisenberg had to concede that there may have been something to that claim. He could feel the old strength returning to his body with every meal, despite the blood wards knotted yearly into the ropes of his prison.

With that strength came the boundless possibility, the ludicrous hope for freedom that he had nearly given up on. He did his best not to alert his jailers, the former lord's bent pride still stinging every time he was put through his proverbial paces by Dimitrescu. Karl soothed himself with the reminder that if this worked, if this worked, it would all be worth it. The indignity…he was no stranger to it and it would not serve him to continue to be offended by it until he was able to decisively strike back at the bitch. Then, then, she would pay–

“Please!”

Begging, pleading, screaming–why were you looking at him like that?

Karl's head was spinning, he couldn't think straight, you were tearing at the eternal ropes around his wrists and then, Dimitrescu lashed out.

Victory for my master.

It had always been someone else in charge, someone else urging him on to bloodshed and war and trial. What could be the harm, then, in serving a master who had shown him kindness, true kindness? For their terrible sin they laid bleeding beside the altar before him, Alcina's cackling laughter echoing off the high ceiling of the chamber as the weak solstice sunbeam drew closer and closer. The enormous woman tore free the knife that they had shoved gracelessly into her leg, her eyes burning with rage. It was the knife she always used for the solstice, the knife that she would…

With a start that tore through the mental haze like lightning, Karl realized he knew that blade, knew that curved edge. It was a dagger that an ill-fated assassin had attempted to end Alcina with, once upon a time. What ego, for the towering Lady to continue to use such a weapon for the binding ritual!

Through his entire imprisonment Karl had felt as though he was pulling air through wet fabric. Suddenly his chest could expand fully once more, and the lord drank greedily of the essence he had been denied for so long.

His shoulders creaked like rusty gears, joints singing in reply, blessed pain bathing him with the joyous agony of life. It lives! Victor Frankenstein cried, it breathes! And as one monster to another, Karl lurched upright and took an unsteady step towards Alcina.

“Bitch.” One word, a full sentence, cutting his faux-sibling’s chortling short. “Let's see whether you can weasel your way outta’ this one, you albino sequoia.” Heisenberg slurred, relishing the way Dimitrescu sputtered in rage while he cracked his knuckles. The ropes continued to slough off his wrists, layer after layer peeling back. He was alive again, awake again.

He was still alive.

Part Two

#karl heisenberg #lord karl heisenberg #eventual romance #fix it fic #au #resident evil #re 8 #re 8 village #resident evil village #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #re 8 karl heisenberg #loyal mad dog trope #forgive me for not posting since january it's been a long year #enjoy!

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 months ago

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Arbiter's Solstice; Part Three

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: Karl was either going to spontaneously combust out of boredom, or spontaneously combust out of having to watch you working in the fields. Oh sure, he didn't have to watch you work. But he did. Sometimes. Most of the time.

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying what I do! Hopefully I'll see you soon, but if not, stay safe. 💚 Enjoy!

Tag List: @stargazerofgoldenwords @cookiethewriter @crookedmoonsaultpunk @colesterstrudel @spoopyredacted @velvet-paradox @kotall-ohh @calwitch @katreneebug @missjasmine98 @sunflowers-and-swear-words @savage-rhi @nova-ivy541 @xyaswrlldd @the-videodame @luvley-shadow @akashiiiiii @spook0 @leediavhs @wysterias-not-so-secret-diary @alldevilsmaycry @writtennotsaid @mulcivert @cedarsmokesrandoms @smallestsnarkestgirl @buttons-beads-lace @vodkafolie @theplagueworm @holydreamerpastadragon @story-chaotic-brain @ohlookapan @topgirl17 @fyufox @immajojoreference @that-thangiling @n-o-r-4 @hauntedadagium @redjahxfox

[If you were tagged in error, please let me know and I’ll remove you!]

Part One: Chosen

Part Two: Struggles

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains gore, mentions of death, canon-typical violence, depictions of mental and physical duress and unprotected sexual activities between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

Karl stared aimlessly up at the smoke wafting overhead from the stubbed-out cigar in his ashtray, his fingers tapping the surface of his work bench. The bench was littered with scrap, bits and pieces he'd been attempting to make sense of all morning.

When Donna had sent a request for all able-bodied villagers to assist with the salvaging of the fields and the planting of the autumn harvest, he had assumed you would wish to be exempted from such a tedious task. Instead, you leaped at the opportunity eagerly. Had he kept you cooped up for too long and you just needed to stretch your legs? Or was there something more sinister at work? Had Donna gotten to you with her damn spores?

Heisenberg groaned, rubbing his hand across his face.

The phone above the workbench began ringing, a dull clicking noise that Karl barely registered at first. He drew a circle with his finger, mentally trying to fit several pieces on the table in front of him together. If that goes to here, maybe I can–

Wait, the phone?

The man bolted upright, seizing the receiver and nearly yanking the whole unit off the wall in the process. Through the buzzing hum of poorly-insulated lines came the sound of howling, snarling, and-

“Karl?”

“What the hell is happening, Donna?!” Heisenberg barked, already halfway into his coat. He could almost feel her mustering up the strength to say something through her obviously-crippling anxiety, but he stifled his pity for the woman. Something was clearly wrong. “Donna, what the fuck do you need?” He asked finally, trying to prod her to respond.

There was a choked gasp for air and then she exhaled, “the lycans won't listen.”

The lycans. Fuck. He hadn't spared a thought for them since well before he’d torn Alcina's throat out. They'd been on the same level as humans, annoying, useless.

Heisenberg slammed the phone down into the cradle, certain he'd broken the rotary dial with the motion. It didn't matter.

He grabbed his hat, shoving it onto his head as he headed for the first of many doors to reach the outside. He'd have to muster up some kind of weapon as he went, unwilling to trust the durability of his old hammer. Worst came to worst, he could make something out of the salvaged tractor. He would be fine, it was the birds that unnerved him when he went outside but he would be fine–

Why the hell was his heart beating so fast?!

…

You swung the heavy bucket, clobbering the creature in front of you grimly. The momentum carried you in a circle, almost toppling you, but you managed to catch yourself before you fell.

The lycans had fallen upon the fields without warning, much fewer in number than they had been before the Lady's demise but no less ferocious for their lack of numbers. The villagers, armed with nothing but spades and rakes for turning the earth, quickly rallied and fought back. You had been returning from the well with a fresh bucket of water for the workers to drink, so you didn't even have the benefit of a long-handled tool to defend yourself!

Lycans didn't terrify you like the Soldat had. If anything, you were used to seeing creatures like lycans or Dimitrescu's Moroaică. You weren't thrilled about seeing them, but they didn't necessarily unnerve you, especially since you weren't dealing with them alone. Outside, under the cheery sunlight of midday, they weren't quite so imposing.

You brought the bottom of the water bucket down on the head of another lycan, water flying everywhere as the beast snapped and yelped in response. One of the other villagers swung his rake into the beast's ribs, scoring several deep wounds in the lycan's side.

Where is Donna? you wondered frantically, glancing around for the unwilling leader of the village. The black-veiled woman seemed to have vanished into thin air, however. You and the rest of the laborers were evidently on your own. You set your jaw, working with the other villager to batter the downed lycan with your implements until it stopped moving.

The brutality of the action was shocking, yet you felt nearly nothing about it. Pragmatism, maybe a new gift from your service under Karl? The Lady had always weaponized fear and anticipation in equal measure, where Lord Heisenberg was quick to make a choice and carry it out. If something was threatening you, be it Soldat or despot, end it.

Simple.

You straightened up, wiping the sweat from your brow and squinting through the gritty dust. The fields would be ruined (well, more ruined) if this fight went on for much longer. Someone would need to be decisive to put a stop to the lycans marauding behavior.

That someone turned out to be one Lord Karl Heisenberg, the Iron Horse seeming to materialize out of the dust of the field like an apparition. The large man snapped his fingers, ancient shrapnel rising from the disturbed dirt to do his bidding. Without a word, without so much as a sound, he merely gestured with his hand and every lycan dropped.

You were certain you weren't the only one standing there stunned by the speed of the whole endeavor, but you may have been the only one to notice how hard Karl's chest was heaving. That, combined with the way his eyes darted across the fields until they met yours and his shoulders visibly relaxed–

Gods, his eyes. You were suddenly breathless for an entirely different reason, feeling your body flush with heat as his gaze burned straight through you. To think, you had jumped at the chance to perform some labor away from Heisenberg's factory, just to give yourself the opportunity to have a little space, only to be rendered useless once more the moment his glance landed on you. So much for your noble attempt!

What was less surprising than his reaction was, unfortunately, the way he stormed across the dusty ground, the large man clearly making a beeline for you. You braced for his approach, mentally trying to remind yourself that he still had yet to be cruel to you. Sure, he could be more than a little terrifying, but that came with his demeanor! That came with just being who he was, it wasn't as though he was making a deliberate effort to be so…scary.

The man kicked a dead lycan aside, the limp body leaving a fresh furrow in the ground from the force of Karl's blow. A jagged piece of metal jutted proudly upwards from the base of the creature's neck, black ichor staining the dark hair darker still.

You swallowed hard.

“You,” Karl hissed, but…but he wasn't even looking in your direction? You cautiously glanced around, quickly spying Donna standing next to the field with Angie. “Don't you know anythin’?! You need to turn the soil first, get all the big rocks and metal out of the way before you try to plant! Imagine if one of-” There was a sickening squelching noise as a deadly sharp bit of metal pulled itself free of another lycan's head, the object rising to hover beside Karl's shoulder. “-your villagers ended up losing a hand from something like this?!” The metal shard darted through the air at Donna's head and you flinched, exhaling hard when it dropped harmlessly to the ground at her feet. “You need to think like a goddamn leader!” Heisenberg roared. “You're not some helpless stupid child, Beneviento, so act like it!”

“This reaction seems a bit overblown, Heisenberg.” That may have been the longest sentence you'd ever heard out of Lady Beneviento. Karl halted, obviously surprised as well. Donna's hands were clasped in front of her around Angie, her already-pale knuckles further whitened by the force of her grip, but her voice was steady when next she spoke. “Everyone, please take a short rest. We will return to work in half an hour.”

“Not you,” Karl growled when you attempted to slink off with the rest of the villagers. “You're staying where I can see you.” He then raised his voice to address Lady Beneviento once the villagers departed, “Why the hell did you call me? It's your damn village to manage.” The man griped, shoving his hands into his pockets as you sheepishly moved to stand beside him.

Donna wavered, clutching at a nearby trellis for support. You stepped forward, instinctively looking around for something for her to sit down on, but Karl moved past you and took her arm.

“Have you had anything to eat today? Drink?” He enquired gruffly, clicking his tongue when she shook her head. “Infuriating. It's hot and you're out here wrapped in black fabric. Did your gift eat your brain?”

“I am not so blessed as you.” Donna retorted dryly, gripping his arm. “It is difficult.”

“I'll go draw more water! Uh, can you…?” You held out the metal pail to Heisenberg, who flicked a hand at it and removed the fresh dents. “Thank you!”

…

“Your pet is so dutiful.” Donna remarked after Karl had settled her onto the tailgate of a nearby wagon. “They must be a great help.”

The lord gritted his teeth. “Don't call them that.” He couldn't read her expression beneath the veil, but he could certainly guess. “I'm not fucking Miranda, I don't keep these things around as pets.”

“‘These things’,” Lady Beneviento chuckled, the noise as dry as parchment. “You still want to sound like her. Very well. Not a pet. What, then?”

He gave the frail woman an incredulous look. “None of your goddamn business, that's what. Since when do you care about my affairs? I feel like you've got much more important shit to consider.”

“Indulge me.”

“I'd sooner chop off my own dick,” was the man's uncouth retort. “You've got enough fires to put out, don't go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.”

“So vulgar.” The veiled woman leaned back, Angie kicking her heels rhythmically against the tailgate as she did. “I was only curious.”

“Don't act like we're friends just because I agreed to rebuild your crap, woman. I'm not here to facilitate your entertainment. And neither are they, for that matter.”

“Understood.” Lady Beneviento sighed, actually sounding disappointed.

Karl bit his tongue, both literally and figuratively as he kept himself from chiding her anew on her childish behavior. “Where did the lycans come from? Which direction?” He eventually asked.

Donna indicated towards what was left of Moreau's reservoir. “It has been so dry recently. Have they run out of food?”

The large man offered no response, instead kneeling to examine one of the quickly-dissolving bodies. The creature's ribs were plainly visible, pressing against the thin, ashen skin in unhealthy juts.

“What will I have to offer you for your continued assistance as we plow and plant?” Donna called, interrupting his amateur investigation. Karl grumbled to himself, dusting his knees off when he rose.

“Scarecrows.” He watched her head tilt upwards beneath her thick veil, the woman obviously confused. “You heard me. Build scarecrows. You do that and I'll make sure the rest of the lycans don't get your precious villagers.” Heisenberg paused, a wolfish grin creasing his face. “At least, not while they work in the fields. Deal?”

“More than fair, especially from you!” Angie chirped before Donna could answer. “Maybe you're not so bad.”

“Keep your inane observations to yourself, you little creepshow.”

…

The heavy pail banged against your leg with every step. You weren't certain how much water the Lady Beneviento could drink, but if her appetite was anything like her deceased sister's, you may need another bucket!

Flagging down one of the other women on your way by the resting band of villagers, you requested that she bring some bread and fruit to Lady Beneviento. No doubt the sugar would help to raise her spirits somewhat. To your surprise, however, the woman quickly shook her head.

“I'm not going anywhere near that…man.” She said, her voice just loud enough for the rest of the laborers to hear. “That's Lord Heisenberg.”

You squinted at her, a little baffled. But then, you recalled you had been much the same before everything that had transpired. Her apprehension was incredibly understandable. “Oh, of course! Just bring it to me then, I can bring it to them.”

“Are you certain? What if he…does something to you?” The woman asked fearfully.

“Don't you recognize them?” another woman scoffed from her place at the fenceline, giving you a disdainful look. “They were his handmaiden, of course they're not scared of him. They're the reason we're in this mess, if they had just-!”

“The bread and some fruit, please.” To your credit, your voice didn't shake as badly as you feared. The first woman skittered off towards one of the houses and you set the bucket on the ground to wait for her return, intent on ignoring the daggers you could feel being glared at you. The snide remarks were a bit more difficult to tune out, though.

“No wonder the lord showed up so quickly-”

“What have they been doing in that factory? Can't be anything good.”

“We're only in such a bad state because they refused to follow the orders of their betters!”

“Imagine willingly working for something like that! And with Lady Dimitrescu hardly cold in the ground-”

A covered basket was pressed into your arms, the woman giving you a sorrowful look. “Take care, little one.” She murmured softly.

“Naturally!” You replied with an air of extreme cheer, determined not to let the rest of the gossips know how their words had affected you. Hefting the bucket once more, you listed slightly to the side before adjusting to the combined weight. “Thank you for your hospitality!”

Perfectly willing to accept my help when I'm smacking a lycan with a bucket, but bringing some provisions to their leader is a bridge too far, you groused uncharitably to yourself as you made your way back to the other edge of the field. Ridiculous. If Karl had wanted to do something bad, I doubt Lady Beneviento would be able to stop him.

You hoped the rest of the villagers would be able to observe the lord and lady interacting. Maybe they would be able to comprehend that Heisenberg wasn't…

Well, wasn't as much of a threat as they wanted to believe. You sighed heavily, then straightened back up and pasted on a smile. “Some refreshments, Lady Beneviento!” You announced upon your arrival, waiting respectfully until the woman shifted Angie aside so you could place the basket on the tailgate of the wagon. Karl took the bucket himself without a word, filling the ladle and then passing it to Donna so she could drink. In the meantime you unwrapped the basket, surprised to see a jar of pickled vegetables as well as your requested rolls and a small bowl of raspberries.

“What will you sample first, my lady?” The way you slid back into your more formal manners felt like putting on an itchy sweater. It fit, certainly, it was your place, but that didn't make it comfortable or desirable. You hadn't realized how much more casual you were with Lord Heisenberg until this moment.

“You're eating.” Heisenberg growled, interrupting the woman midway through shaking her head. “You'll do none of those idiots any good if you're dead. You need to be alive if you expect me to keep showing up to deter the lycans. Now eat.”

“Perhaps just a few pieces of carrot?” You bargained, using the provided fork to spear a sliced carrot from the jar of vegetables. “And this bread looks fresh! Hours old, if that. You and Miss Angie are bound to enjoy it, especially with these raspberries.”

“Ah…I suppose. Perhaps you are right.” Lady Beneviento murmured, gamely accepting the fork from you. “The carrots are very bright this year.”

“They are!” you agreed, stunned but delighted. Was this an actual conversation?

Karl refilled the ladle, his expression unreadable as he waited for Beneviento to finish chewing the carrot. “Drink. Small bites.” He instructed her, and you heard a snort from beneath the veil.

“Such a doting brother.”

“Do it, you ungrateful little shit.” Heisenberg snarled. “You want me to protect your sheep? Take care of yourself because after the planting is done, I'm not coming back to your flock.” His eyes wandered to you momentarily before he seemed to snap back to attention, continuing, “you've put enough people in danger today. You need to be able to handle it yourself the next time it comes to your doorstep.”

“There is no need to scold me like an unruly child, Lord Heisenberg.”

Karl tensed up and you quickly replaced the ladle in his hand with an herbed piece of bread, knowing all too well his weakness for the soft rolls. “Please eat, my lord.” You insisted, your cheeks tingling with the effort of maintaining your pleasant smile. “I can assist Lady Beneviento, I imagine you have more important things to tend to. To er, ensure the safety of the villagers?”

The man tore a bite out of the roll, sharp teeth easily ripping the bread apart. “Oh absolutely. You know me, I'm a real…humanitarian.” He doffed his hat lazily at the two of you, then turned on his heel and headed for the small rise of land bordering the fields.

“It is curious how familiar you are with dear Karl.” Lady Beneviento commented once she seemed to believe the man was out of earshot. You froze, panic gripping your throat. “You were his…handmaiden, correct?”

“Y-Yes, my lady.”

“How very strange.” After that, Lady Beneviento didn't say another word, the frail woman seeming, frankly, exhausted from the morning's excitement. The villagers returned to their toil soon after Karl took his position on the rise, the lord pacing back and forth aimlessly as the ground was broken and dirt was sifted. You returned to your labor as well, continuing to haul water or break apart the larger chunks of loam to be sifted, and you did your best to ignore the broadening gulf of distance between yourself, the rest of the village denizens and Lord Heisenberg.

Karl would occasionally pause in his pacing to lift whatever shrapnel was picked from the earth, the man clearly collecting it with the intent to form some new weapon. He had a relatively sizable stack by supper time, when all labor stopped in order for folk to prepare their evening meal. Wearily the group of you trudged off the field, and force of habit led your footsteps towards what was left of Castle Dimitrescu. You were only brought out of your reverie by Heisenberg's voice, nearly jumping out of your skin when he spoke up behind you, “going somewhere, sweetheart?”

“N-No, not at all!” You denied, once more out of habit, turning to face him. “I was just…I was lost in thought.” Karl nodded as though he accepted your explanation, his own brow furrowed. “What are you doing following me, anyway?!” You sputtered.

The man shrugged. “The lycans. You never know where they might come from next.” He then straightened up, lighting a cigar. He hadn't smoked the entire time he was on guard duty, you realized belatedly. Just paced, back and forth, back and forth-

“Thank you.” You blurted out before you could think it through, dissolving into a stammer when he gave you a look of confusion. Something about his eyes tied your tongue in knots, but eventually you managed to explain yourself. “Thank you f-for coming today. I know you don't really like Lady Beneviento, so I really appreciate you–”

“It's not that I don't like her,” Karl interjected, his expression darkening. “It's…it's more than that. Look, don't worry about it. We made a deal, and I'm going to honor my side of it. That's all there is to it.”

It's more than that.

A thought came to you as Karl fell into step alongside you, of Lord Heisenberg and Lady Beneviento…you flinched, shaking your head to ward off that mental image even as your brain pragmatically reminded you well they're not actually siblings, there's no harm in it. Perhaps they had simply found solace in one another due to their unique upbringing, it didn't have to be more complex than that. It would explain a bit of the animosity Karl seemed to harbor for her, especially after his binding–

You had to keep yourself from slapping your forehead in annoyance at your own stupidity, of course that's why Karl was on less than good terms with her! From the looks of things she had been in no position to challenge the Lady Dimitrescu when it came to Heisenberg's imprisonment. Alcina had been…well, a bit of a brute, really. You couldn't imagine Donna defying her in any sense, least of all regarding someone who, in theory, was the only one who threatened Lady Dimitrescu's total dominion over the region.

To think that your misplaced jealousy (and it was extremely misplaced, why on earth would you believe Lord Heisenberg even thought of you like that?!) had led to you immediately assuming to know the hearts and minds of two individuals who were absolutely your betters in every sense of the word. You were ashamed of yourself, feeling small and foolish in your insecurity.

You were a handmaiden, nothing more, and that was how things had to be.

…

Karl was either going to spontaneously combust out of boredom, or spontaneously combust out of having to watch you working in the fields.

Oh sure, he didn't have to watch you work. But he did. Sometimes.

Most of the time.

He'd rest his arm on the handle of his new hammer, rest his chin on that and just let his eyes drift where they wanted. At least you seemed oblivious to his stare, too intent on your chores to bother to remain aware of your surroundings. Good thing Karl was there to ward off anything dangerous that may have approached.

And he had absolutely had his hands full for the first few days. The lycans had tried every which way to get past him in order to attack the vulnerable villagers, but it always ended the same: dissolving bodies pushed off to the side, a few grudging thank-yous, maybe an extra bit of bread and cheese thrown his way during the communal lunch. You'd think he would get a bit more recognition; not a single villager had died yet on his watch.

A distant yell roused him from his staring match with the area you had occupied, the man finding to his silent dismay that you had vanished while he wasn't paying attention.

The shout had come from the direction of the well. Heisenberg straightened up and the other laborers in the field seemed to take notice, their work pausing while they watched him shift his posture. Heisenberg ignored them, one hand reaching out towards the well. He closed his eyes to aid his concentration, the range of his power dependant on his focus–

Lycans. Multiple, his attention leaping from one to the next. A filling here, a screw in the knee there, bodies lighting up with hotspots of metal that he could turn to his advantage even at this distance.

Wait. He had needed to fix you after Alcina, a screw in the knee, what if he'd left something behind–

Another scream, this time from the other end of the field. The lycans had split what few numbers they had left, attempting to pick off outliers before Karl could reach them. The man growled, irritated, then stripped two pieces of metal off his hammer and sent them spiraling across the field. He barely waited to see if they had hit their mark before he bolted towards the well.

Karl reached out again, mentally straining to find something-

There! Bullet, lodged in a ribcage. He doubted you'd ever been shot in your life, so he took the gamble and latched onto the piece of metal, slamming it upwards until it tore free of whatever body it had resided in.

Heisenberg finally crested the hill before the square, taking in the sight beneath him momentarily before he sprinted forward.

It wasn't you. It wasn't you. Where the hell were you?! It was some man from the village, some useless man who was doing his best to defend himself by dashing back and forth around the well.

Heisenberg gritted his teeth and brought the hammer down on the head of one of the frail lycans, spotting another one already dead. That must have been the bullet bearer. The last lycan whirled, snarling and howling at his intrusion. Karl bared his teeth at the creature, seeing Moreau pandering and groveling to Miranda every time he looked at the piscean lord's creations. “What's the matter? Were you expecting someone else?” Heisenberg sneered, watching the beast quail in real time as it seemed to recognize him. “Donna isn't here, little mutt. But you're going to wish she was.”

…

You turned out the loaf from its pan, exhaling in relief when it held strong and didn't collapse. The crust was a little darker than you'd like, but it would be edible enough! People were always hungry at the noon meal, so you had taken it upon yourself to bake extra loaves of the herbed bread. You had the time for it, after all, since Heisenberg took care of most of the chores in his factory! All you had really needed to do was prepare the dough in advance and transport it in the morning, then briefly break away to put it in a borrowed oven so it would be fresh for the communal meal. A simple enough task.

You wiped your hands off on your apron, wrapping the loaves in a clean towel and then tucking them into a basket so you could tote them to the mishmash of tables that had been set up outdoors in the shade of the gnarled orchard. The weather had continued to hold, a blessing and a curse for the backbreaking work that needed to be accomplished, but after such a long time cooped up in Castle Dimitrescu, the sunlight was wonderful and you cherished every moment you could get.

A commotion outside caught your attention and you headed for the door, your basket safely slung over your arm. Perhaps everyone had decided to take the break a little early? It was warmer than usual today, it would certainly make sense-

Karl was in the middle of the field, surrounded by the rest of the villagers. “-want them found now, nothing gets done until they're located!” He was shouting, gesturing down at two more lycan corpses. Your heart leaped into your throat, you hadn't even known there was an attack! Had someone gone missing in the confusion?

“Sir?” One of the men spoke up, visibly shrinking when Karl glared his way and then raising a hand to hesitantly point in your direction. Heisenberg glanced up, paused, and then began shoving his way through the crowd.

You had a ludicrous thought for a moment of fleeing, but you dismissed it immediately. Lord Heisenberg would be on you in an instant. It would be better to just take your punishment on the chin, so to speak.

That might have been easier to accept if Karl didn't look so exceedingly angry. He had even gone a bit red in the face, the color unfamiliar compared to his usual pallor. He towered over you, the large hammer landing haft up in the dirt as he mutely reached for your shoulders. You couldn't help the shudder that ran through your body when he grabbed you, bracing yourself for some terrible beating.

A moment passed. Then two. Your eyes welled up and you blinked rapidly at the ground.

“Look at me.” His voice was deceptively even. You wavered uncertainly, then managed to shake your head. “Why not?”

“I am afraid.” You admitted. “I know I should be able to look at you, but you seem furious. I…I am afraid.”

“You're afraid?” Heisenberg barked that strange, coarse laugh and then embraced you. “I was terrified.” He confessed, low enough that only you would hear. “I…I couldn't find you. I thought-”

Your heart was hammering so loudly in your ears you could barely make out his words. Terrified. He had been afraid…for you? “I don't understand.” You whispered.

“I know.” Heisenberg muttered. Then, “neither do I.”

…

The fields were finally all in order three days later. Donna was hoping (perhaps futilely) to have a bumper crop of corn to carry the village through the winter. The mended tractor had sped up the process considerably, but it was still an immense undertaking to cut back the dead crops and overturn them in the fields that Beneviento did want to use. Obviously she didn't exactly have the manpower that the village had enjoyed during Lady Dimitrescu's tyrannical reign, so she had to make several hard decisions to ensure the survival of the people she did have.

Heisenberg didn't envy her. Of course, that was nothing new, but now he really didn't envy her. It was no small feat managing a village. Hell, he'd had his hands full with his Soldats, and they couldn't even talk back! He knew himself too well, knew he didn't have the patience or the restraint for it.

His eyes wandered to you at your comically oversized stove and he had to snort at himself. Maybe he did have patience and restraint, but only in very…specific scenarios. Speaking of which. “Is it done yet?” He called for the fifth time, your little laugh warming him down to his core.

“Almost!” You answered, turning to give him a quick smile. “I'm sorry, I know you're hungry.”

“You have no idea.” Karl muttered half to himself, watching the sway of your hips as you resumed your task. Starving.

“Are you helping to restore the barn tomorrow? Those that can't are stuffing the scarecrows, so I'll probably be doing that. I'm not much one for lumber.”

Truthfully Karl had forgotten about that next chore. Now technically Donna hadn't asked for his help regarding that anyway, so technically he didn't have to. But the thought of you sitting alone amongst the rest of the villagers was…irritating.

He had heard what they said, he always heard what they said and they were hardly kinder now that his imprisonment had ended. If anything, much of their vitriol seemed to have found a new target in you. Where they wouldn't say anything to his face, they were more than willing to say terrible things to you. He had watched you grin and bear it, but it didn't exactly brighten his day to know that you were enduring bullshit because of him. Add to that the fact that you hadn't ever brought it up to him so that the two of you could do something about it…

It was noble, in an exasperating and unfamiliar way, that you wanted to take on his woes or even shield him from them. As if you cared about him.

You were just some silly human.

Several fresh flatbread on a cutting board landed in front of him, and you carefully placed down a trivet on the table before managing to haul over a heavy skillet full of several eggs cooked in a molten hot tomato sauce. “Please be careful, it's extremely hot,” you warned, but Karl was already midway through digging a large spoon (more of a shovel, really) into the delicious-smelling mixture.

“Do you have time to eat?” He asked gruffly as you moved to return to the stove. “With me, I mean.”

You paused, giving him a surprised look before answering, “of course, if that is your wish.” Karl made a small motion with the spoon and you practically glowed, your smile was so brilliant. You rushed to pick up a small bowl and then you attempted to serve Karl, which the lord immediately brushed off. He instead placed a substantial amount of the tomato mixture into your bowl, topping it with one of the eggs like a garnish.

How much did you even eat? He wasn't usually in the habit of watching you consume your meals, too busy with his work to bother. The man tore one of the flatbreads in half to share, unable to fight his smile when you shyly accepted your piece. “Enjoy.”

…

You were hopelessly in love, despite your best intentions. Absolutely smitten, entirely entranced, mired in juvenile infatuation. You stuffed more leaves into the patchworked shirt that would eventually become the body of a scarecrow and you did your best not to let your eyes wander to where Lord Heisenberg was working on the barn. It was a futile effort, of course, but you really did try!

It wasn't exactly fair that he had abandoned his shirt hours ago, the other villagers laboring alongside him in a similar state of undress. He was just so incredibly strong, and so casual about his strength. Carrying beams of lumber with ease to shore up the collapsing roof, using his strange power to tighten otherwise unreachable bolts or to wrestle with problematic nails…you knew you ought to have been paying more attention to your own task, but you also knew you weren't the only one looking at Lord Heisenberg.

Indeed, several individuals around you who were also busying themselves cramming dried cornstalks into old pillowcases would occasionally pause, hands going still while they watched Karl do something particularly impressive. Something in your chest tightened when you noticed the amount of attention fixed on Lord Heisenberg, but Karl tilted his head at that moment and caught your gaze. The man smirked, throwing you a wink, and you frantically ducked your head to avoid further humiliation amidst the tittering laughter of your peers.

Honestly, you had shared breakfast with Lord Heisenberg, not any of these other individuals. You had been Chosen for him at first, but after everything was said and done, he had chosen you. Perhaps…perhaps it wasn't so bad to have a little pride in such things.

You dared to sneak another look and when Karl met your eyes again, you gave him a soft, fond smile before returning to your task. There was still work to be done, regardless of your own internal discourse, and certain things couldn't wait.

…

Heisenberg sought you out at the noon meal, the man having taken note of the furtive glances you'd been shooting his way all damn morning. He had to admit, it was…flattering, but also oddly sweet.

He posted up alongside you on the bench, a trencher of excessively-cooked fish balanced on his leg. You passed him a slice of bread with some pork drippings while apologizing for the lack of salt, but the man waved you off, gesturing down at the fish. “Help y'self,” he mumbled through his first bite, “watch f’ the li'l bones.”

“I suppose-” you began, tugging at the still-attached tail and then making a quiet noise of surprise when the spine snapped, dropping the rest of the backbone onto the plate. “Oh dear. Well, that makes it easier.” You delicately placed the tail off to the side. “The Lady only ever had us prepare red meat or poultry.” You said, half to yourself while you frowned doubtfully down at the remains of the fish. “I'm not quite…sure how to do this.”

Before he could think better of it, Karl picked up a piece of the fish and easily stripped several sections off the ribs, offering them to you wordlessly. You accepted with a grateful smile, placing your portion onto your own slice of bread and then taking a large bite. The man continued to prepare his own smaller portion, pretending not to notice the way you gulped water with every bite.

“It's a bit, er, dry.” You mumbled when Karl finally asked how you liked the fish. “I'm afraid I don't understand the appeal. Maybe some seasonings would improve the flavor?”

Karl cleared his throat, stifling a laugh. The fish was as dry as a bone; he was more impressed that it had stuck together this long instead of just evaporating outright. “You're drinking more water than the fish did.” He remarked, making you sputter. “Don't worry, it's edible. Whatever you don't want, I'll finish.”

“I'm sorry, I don't mean to be ungrateful.” You apologized guiltily, ducking your head.

“We'll eat good tonight.” Karl crunched a needle-like bone, feeling it pierce the side of his cheek. “Let the rabble burn their fish and gawk at their betters.”

“Oh, you noticed.” Your voice had gone thin.

“‘Course I noticed. I'm not goddamn blind.” Heisenberg growled, “they're terrified of me but they'll stare like slack-jawed idiots as soon as I show some skin.” He turned to the side, leaning in just a little and lowering his voice. “You're the only one I want gawkin’ at me, sweetheart.”

You stared up at him, gawking in every sense of the word. Karl could feel his smirk making a triumphant return and he dared to slip a finger beneath your chin, feeling the way your pulse beat wildly at his touch.

“Don't get all shy on me now, sweetheart,” he teased, tapping his thumb against your lips and then pulling away once more. “We can discuss further, when we have some…privacy.”

You blinked hazily before jolting, your back going poker straight as you focused your attention pointedly on the remains of the fish.

…

“It's not hard to notice the way you treat me.”

Karl turned from his workbench to look at you, the lord obviously surprised by your words. Your whole body was trembling but you did your best to maintain some level of eye contact. You already knew he could sense your fear, but hopefully he wouldn't misinterpret your apprehension.

What you truly feared was rejection, or even disposal after brief fascination. The Lady had been so changeable in her moods and while Karl hadn't displayed quite that same level of vacillation, he did have a temper which seemed to burn hot. You weren't sure if you would be able to endure being disposed of, being ignored for the rest of your days once the shine wore off.

“You treat me differently than the rest of the villagers.” You did your best to gentle your tone. This wasn't an accusation, after all, but an observation.

Karl stood. “You make it sound like I shouldn't!” He half-laughed, but there was no humor in his tone. “Why wouldn't I treat you differently? You're the only one worth a damn in this entire village. You're the only one who treated me like a person, it's only natural that I'd treat you right.”

“You're a lord, though.” You pointed out. “You shouldn't display favoritism.”

“Have I ever given you the impression that I care about what I should or shouldn't do?” Heisenberg asked incredulously. “I killed Alcina. You of all people can understand that's something that I technically shouldn't have done and yet here we are, sans one noble House Dimitrescu.”

You shook your head, wishing you could just get him to understand. “It's not like that, it's just that…I mean, the rest of the villagers, they…” You trailed off, frustrated. What would you even say? ‘They're being rude to me’? Oh surely, what a change in behavior. “They just treat me differently.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You were both startled by the speed and volume of your denial, Karl snorting in apparent disbelief at the outburst. You glared at the floor, making a futile attempt at hiding from the man.

“Then what's the problem?” He asked brusquely, one ankle tucked behind the other as he leaned against his workbench. “I'm offering even more than what I've already done, and I don't want anything more in return. I'm offering what you know you want, sweetheart.”

“You know what I want, now?” You shot back, a little irritated at how easy everything seemed to be for him.

“Of course.” Karl replied with a cocky little tilt of his head. “You want me over you, or maybe under you. Behind you? Choices, choices.”

Your dream from the other night raged to the forefront of your mind once more and you buried your face in your hands with a frustrated little scream. “I didn't want to be like this.” You mumbled through your fingers, oblivious to how stiff Karl's posture went at your confession. “It's not my place to be like this, surely someone else-”

“No one.” The lord said curtly. “Not a soul. They can look at me all they want, but it'll be you I'm coming back to every night.” His expression softened ever so slightly. “If you'll have me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

“If…if I agree to this,” you swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “If I agree to this, you have to promise me that you won't…I mean, that if you get bored of me or you grow tired of my company, you'll state it plainly. Don't lie to me to spare my feelings, just tell me outright. I couldn't bear continuing to…engage with you if you no longer found my company pleasant.”

“It won't come to that.” Karl stated firmly. “Promise me you'll do the same, though. If you decide you'd rather move on, let me know so I can send you off.”

“I doubt it will happen!” You rushed to assure him, “but I will acquiesce, of course. Neither of us are obliged to stay if we are unhappy!”

“Good.” Heisenberg fidgeted for a moment. “Can we…” He made an odd gesture at your pallet, “discuss further?”

“What else is there to discuss?” You queried, genuinely confused. Karl rolled his eyes with a groan, scooping you up into his arms and carrying you to your pallet. “Lord Heisenberg, I-”

“Karl.” He breathed in your ear, his voice sending an entirely different shiver down your spine. “Call me Karl when we're alone.”

“O-Of course.” Lord Heisenberg looked down at you expectantly and you bit your lip, hesitant even now. “Karl.”

“Sweetheart,” he practically purred the endearment, the gentle tone of his voice and the adoration in his eyes leaving you breathless.

“I will meet you however I can.” You offered, propping yourself up on your elbows beneath him. “I am, however, not overly experienced in these matters.”

“Do you want me inside you at some point tonight?” Karl asked bluntly, smirking when you sputtered. “Don't worry about your experience. Whatever you've had, I'll make you forget about it.”

“Oh.” You wheezed, more than a little frazzled. “Surely it would be better for you if I knew what I was doing?”

Karl ran his tongue over his teeth in that odd, nervous gesture. “Not really. I don't want you to be self-conscious.” He murmured, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. The man began unbuttoning your shirt, shoving the fabric off to the side so he could kiss your collarbone.

The feeling of his facial hair on your bare skin had you trembling beneath him, your hands feebly gripping his shoulders in an effort to ground yourself. Oh certainly, there had been juvenile fumblings under the stairs in the kitchen, but you had never engaged in anything so…all-encompassing. Karl seemed ready to undo you entirely, the man taking his time with every button and hook that he encountered.

He finally untied your breast band, slipping the cloth out from beneath you with a soft rustle. “I'm going to put my mouth here,” Karl warned you, his expression serious.

Unsure of where here was, you still nodded your head, crying out when Karl roughly laved his tongue over your right nipple. The man coaxed the bud into his mouth, humming while you bucked and squirmed under his ministrations. No one had ever-!

His free hand sought out your other breast, fingers teasing and fondling you to stiffness as you whimpered and bit down on your knuckles in an effort to keep quiet. The man growled something against your skin and then his knee dug beneath your thigh, hooking your leg up over his own and pressing his pelvis to yours through the layers of clothing. His skin was so hot, and the way his intense eyes watched your every move as you reacted helplessly to him…it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

“Karl,” you half-sobbed, fingers fumbling at the open throat of his shirt. “Please, please Karl-”

“You don't even know what you want,” the man gently teased you, undoing the laces on your skirt and splaying the homespun weave open on either side of your hips, leaving you wholly exposed aside from your underthings. Karl shoved your legs up over his thighs, leaning his body forward to return to your breasts. As he did however, he rutted against your pelvis firmly, making you whine without intending to. You flushed hot, avoiding his eyes as he cautiously shifted his weight. “Mm, what's wrong sweetheart? You're so quiet all of a sudden,” the lord breathed, grinding his body down in an abrupt motion that startled another whine out of you. “Is this what you want, hmm?”

He didn't wait for whatever reply might have been forthcoming, the man busying himself at your breasts again. You arched your back, feeling his canines scrape your sensitive skin in a delicious tingle of sensation. “Karl-”

“I know, sweetheart.” He whispered, slipping a hand into the band of your underwear and tugging them off, then unbuttoning the placket of his pants. “Look, look at me.”

You managed to raise your head to stare down the length of your body at whatever he was trying to show you, your half-lidded eyes widening and the flush rising on your cheeks once more. Karl huffed out a breath, stroking his cock and pressing the heated skin against your wet cunt. You were so slippery that he ended up sliding over your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your clit with a harsh little bump that had you whimpering.

“Too much?” Karl asked through gritted teeth, forcing out a laugh when you vigorously shook your head. “Good, right? Feels good?”

You could barely get a word out, your voice dissolving into a moan when he reached up to toy with one of your nipples again. “Yes, yes, please…”

“Alright, I'll keep goin’.” Karl assured, using his hand to spread the lips of your cunt a little wider so he could slot himself against you more firmly. His low rumble when he rutted his cock between his hand and your cunt fanned the ache deep in your stomach, making your hips jolt up of their own accord. “Oh, easy, easy,” the man gasped, obviously startled. “I know you want more, sweetheart, but I don't want to hurt you.” He held up his hand and you realized dimly that it was trembling. “Inside, yeah?”

You nodded wildly, propping yourself up on your elbows again in an effort to watch what he was about to do. Karl shot you a wink, making you let out a nervous giggle. The sound quickly turned into a gasp as he tapped his thumb to your clit and pressed his middle finger against your entrance, the rough pads of his digits rasping along your skin briefly. Then he breached your cunt, his finger experimentally stroking at your insides while his thumb rolled over your clit.

“Say my name, sweetheart.” Karl instructed you softly.

“Karl, I-” your voice cracked and broke when the man pressed his index finger into you, spreading you wider and making lewd, wet noises with your cunt.

“I know,” he crooned, “I know sweetheart, you're already so wet for me but we need to make sure. Show me what you like.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassed. “I don't–I don't know.” You admitted softly, arching your back when he flicked over one of your nipples again.

“Mmm, I think you do.” Karl growled, tormenting your nipple with firm strokes that he echoed on your clit, making you squirm and cry out. “How do you make yourself feel good?”

“I haven't!” you denied desperately. “I wasn't allowed, I-I–”

“No?” Karl interrupted you, raising an eyebrow. “You never found something that made you feel nice? Never took advantage of…oh, I dunno’, a certain angle, maybe a pillow?”

“Wasn't allowed.” You reiterated, practically babbling while his fingers curled and thrust into you. “Wasn't allowed wasn't allowed-”

“But did you?”

“No!” You sobbed, caught off-guard when he twisted his wrist and did–something with his fingers that made an explosion happen behind your eyes. Your whole body went tense and then a warm sensation flooded your groin, pulling a bone-deep groan out of you as you sank into the pallet once more.

“Coming so soon? Guess you were serious.” Karl sounded surprised, but also like he was talking to you from down a hallway. You whimpered instead of replying, making him laugh.

His cock slid along your pussy again, sending a lance of heat into your belly. Your cunt was still riddled with aftershocks from whatever Karl had done to you, the man panting softly as he rolled his cock over your twitching entrance. Back and forth, back and forth, every motion inspiring that same heat to build in your stomach and causing you to moan in response.

“Spread your legs, sweetheart.” He requested, clapping a hand to your shaking calf. “Let's get these nice and wide for me, loosen everything up so you're comfortable.” Broad palms kneaded at the insides of your thighs, the man helping to warm up the spasming muscles with careful strokes. His fingers were still wet from being inside you, leaving cool trails along your inner thigh when he moved his hand. “I…I can't promise this is going to be good at first.” Karl warned, his expression slightly pained. “We can stop now.”

“No, I want it. I–” you hesitated, still not certain of what exactly you were hoping for. “I want everything.” You finished instead, hoping you sounded firmer than you felt. “I can endure it.”

Karl chewed on his lower lip. “If it's too much, you'd better tell me.” His voice dropped into a lower, more grave register. “Understand, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes, Karl.”

“Good.”

…

It still took Heisenberg a few minutes to work up the courage to start. He justified the delay by continuing to work you over with his fingers, mentally warring with himself while you sighed and panted under him.

He could stop. He wasn't an animal. He could be careful, and you had given your word that you would tell him if it was too much.

It would be enough. It had to be. Damn it all, if he couldn't trust himself to manage this now, he never would. Karl grimaced, tucking his fingers beneath your chin to hold your gaze. “I'm going to start.” He said quietly, “it may be uncomfortable.”

“I understand.” So brave, always so brave, staring up at him with a hazy sort of determination that sent a hot rush down his spine.

The lord barely refrained from nervously laughing, choosing instead to spread you wide and rest the head of his cock against your entrance. He didn't move for a moment, giving you the opportunity to say no, but in a surprising twist you wrapped your fingers around your own thighs, clumsily helping him to hold you open.

Karl slowly, slowly pressed his dick into you, the man finding himself having to adjust multiple times in order to keep the motion relatively smooth. Gods, you were so soft and warm, it was incredible. If it wasn't for the guilt he felt welling up inside him, it would be perfect. But despite your natural lubrication and warmup this was still obviously a massive undertaking, your voice cracking when you exhaled a moan of what seemed to be discomfort as he bottomed out. “Oh, Karl, oh God–” you whimpered, fingernails digging into your own thighs. “Can I–can you hold still? I need-I need a minute t-to…”

“Of course.” Karl muttered before you could finish, settling you carefully into the cradle of his hips. “Let me know when you're ready.” He rested his thumb on your clit, the digit sweeping softly back and forth while you breathed deep and adjusted to his size. “Take as long as you need, sweetheart.” He continued, hanging his head when you inadvertently clenched down on his cock. “As long as you need, I can wait.” Truthfully, being inside you at all was undoing him, but he wasn't particularly concerned about his own stamina. He doubted you'd care either.

Speaking of which, you tilted your hips upwards slightly and Karl watched your eyes fly open, the man biting back a smirk as you all but fucked yourself onto his cock for a breath. Heisenberg pressed a hand to your chest, easing you flat once more.

“I can take it from here, sweetheart.” He murmured, “do you mind if I finish inside you? Promise it won't do anythin’ but make a mess.” The cadou, the gift from Miranda, had given many things to him, but it had also taken much away. Humanity, normalcy, the promise of a simple life with someone else…

In response your heels dug into the small of his back, sheathing him impossibly deeper into you. “Please,” you begged, your eyes teary and cheeks wet. “Need you, need all of you.”

Heisenberg snarled, fucking down into you. He tugged your legs up off his hips, bending them at the knees and forcing you wide open, vulnerable for what he knew would be an insatiable event. “Take it then, sweetheart, take what's yours.” He crooned, certain deep down that he was being at least a little mean. After all, you were giving him this precious gift, the least he could do was behave himself. Easier said than done with your nails scraping tiny crescents between his shoulder blades though, easier said than done when your mouth was right next to his ear and you were sobbing his name while he fucked the sense out of you. Maybe you didn't mind him being a little less gentle?

Karl pulled out and rutted against you for another moment, enjoying the way your clit pulsed when he tapped it with his cock and the way your body went tense with the pressure. Evidently you were wound even tighter than he was, despite your lack of experience. You cried out when he reached up and teased one of your nipples, your back bowing in response.

“You close again? Want to come on my cock?” Karl asked, laughing outright when you nodded desperately. “Anything for you sweetheart. Hurt a little less?”

“It's not–it doesn't hurt, you just…” your fingers tangled in the sheets as you fidgeted, obviously trying to explain what it was that you felt. “You're so deep. It's not a…not a hurt, it's more of an ache.”

“Too deep?” The man queried, already considering what he needed to adjust posture-wise to keep you comfortable.

“No, I–” Karl felt the heated flush that spread across your skin, the man patiently waiting until you admitted, “I enjoy it, Karl. It's…I like it.”

“You like me deep inside you?” Heisenberg rolled his hips, sheathing his dick once more and thrusting hard enough to knock the breath out of you for a moment. “As deep as I can get?”

“Please-” you begged, “you fill me up so well–”

“Well I'm sure as hell going to,” Karl grunted. “I want to keep doing this forever, if you're amenable.”

“I'd like that.” You smiled tearily up at him and Karl's breath hitched, hips stuttering as he lost his battle against the urge to spill into you.

“Sweetheart-” he gasped in your ear, the thunder of his own pulse nearly drowning out your whimpering. “Fuck, sweetheart, you're everything, you're all I want, you…I love you.”

The man froze, realizing what he'd just blurted out (and the way your body had reacted to it). You tilted your head back, panting and moaning while your soaked little cunt throbbed around him and fucking hell–

Maybe it was alright. Maybe you hadn't heard him.

“‘Love you too-” you managed to say, your voice weak and tremulous.

Something inside Karl snapped (snapped more?) and the man buried his face in your neck, growling swears and entreaties in equal measure as he fucked you through your climax. Your answer was to wrap your arms around his neck and beg for more, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging until his scalp ached hotly. Karl wanted to scream, he wanted to fight something, but more than even those most primal urges, he just wanted to fuck you until you forgot your own name.

A combination of your come and his own began to sluggishly drip from your cunt onto the sheets, clearly not helped by Karl’s relentless rhythm. The man absently slid a hand beneath the small of your back to adjust you and his fingers passed over the raised area of the multiple cursive Ds branded into your flesh. Again speaking before he thought, driven entirely by base instinct and possessive rage, the lord bared his teeth and seethed, “You are mine. Nobody else gets to touch you ever again.” Not Alcina, not fucking Moreau, never again.

“I'm y-yours, I'm yours Karl…” was your stilted, hiccuping reply, not that he'd even needed (or deserved) an answer. Heisenberg felt his expression soften, felt the fight-ready tension in his shoulders unwind, and the man placed apologetic kisses along your breasts and collarbone. You were so impossibly good to him, it was evident he would be repaying you for the rest of your time together.

“I dreamed about doing this.” The confession was soft, rasping in his dry throat. “Stuck in my cell, I-I'd think about it. You were so damn nice to me, I just…” Karl hesitated, well aware of your half-lidded stare boring a hole through him. “I wasn't used to humans being kind. Hell, anyone being kind. Guess I'm a little fucked up.” ‘A little’, fuck's sake.

“I would have let you.”

Fuck's sake.

Karl closed his eyes, resting his forehead on your collarbone and exhaling raggedly. “I wouldn't have been good to you.” He admitted. “I was still too angry, too mean. I don't…it wouldn't have gone well. Trust me, it's better this way.”

You pressed your face into his neck, inhaling deeply and pressing kisses to the sweaty skin there. “I'm sorry.”

“Not your fault, sweetheart. I was fucked up before you were born.” The man shook his head, rolling his shoulders absently. “Fucked up, stuck in the cycle of being bitter and hateful, helpless to do anything but wallow and further other people's ambitions…it really got to me.” He nudged his nose into your cheek teasingly. “And then you came along.”

“The Lady chose me for you, she said it was a great honor.” You rolled your eyes, huffing out a breath. “She didn't mention the part where I would be sacrificed at the solstice, of course.”

“Well yeah, you wouldn't have agreed to it otherwise,” Karl allowed, his smirk fading slightly. “But then you chose me. A hard road to walk, sweetheart, and I don't take it for granted. I…thank you. For–well, for everything.”

You sniffled, burying your face in his neck once more.

Karl hummed in contentment, continuing to fuck you at a leisurely pace. “What do you say–” he panted when you clenched down on him again, “we do something special for the winter solstice?”

You squinted up at him, your brow furrowed in confusion. Karl just pressed a kiss to your forehead and smiled his usual, self-satisfied grin.

…

“I'm not certain that I-” you paused, excusing yourself as you yawned broadly. Karl continued wrapping a patched scarf around your neck, patiently waiting for the rest of your question. “-understand what the whole point of this is, Karl.”

“Have some cider.” He insisted instead of answering you, pressing a warm, chipped mug into your hands. “It's almost time.”

You grumbled a little to yourself but obediently sipped on the mulled beverage while Karl banked the fire in the stove and put on his own coat. Several days before the winter solstice, the man had gone out and constructed a small shelter on the rise of land the Duke normally inhabited, and it was from this shelter that the two of you emerged into the frigid blue of dawn. The Duke, parked nearby in his cart as ever, offered a wave but no further commentary, for which you were immensely grateful. It was still a bit early to be cordial, nevermind carry on a full conversation.

The air was breathtakingly cold; you could feel the rush of wind whipping past your nose and biting at any exposed skin it could find. The hot cider was now a lifeline and you kept your mittened hands tightly wrapped around it, taking a more hearty sip.

“Not long now.” Karl murmured, embracing you from behind and resting his chin on the crown of your head.

“Are you going to explain to me what the point of all of this is?” You grumbled, slouching back against him.

It was several minutes before Karl spoke again, the man seemingly content to sit in silence. “It's…I don't know, it's like the opposite of the binding ritual.” He fidgeted with your coat for a moment (well, it was one of his coats, but you'd sewed an extra thick lining into it to keep yourself warm), eventually tucking his hands into the pockets.

You hummed, not overly certain you understood what he was getting at, but also no longer cold.

The sun slowly rose over the horizon, burning through the tall pines and setting the morning mist alight with prismatic eddies in its wake. You squinted against the brilliant beams, every inch of your body suddenly tingling. It felt a bit like waking up after a long, long sleep in an awkward position, disoriented and rumpled. Sometimes in Heisenberg's factory you could go days without seeing the outside world, so perhaps your reaction was to be expected. It was a beautiful sunrise, all things considered.

Karl sounded a little faint when he said, “I think…I think there might have been something to that old witch after all.” He shook himself bodily, as if he was a dog that had just been given an unwanted bath. “Granted, nothing she can do about me now. But it does feel sort of–mystical.” He muttered something you couldn't make out under his breath, then raised his voice again. “Shortest day, longest night, rebirth, blah blah blah. We'll have to have a huge bonfire tonight, I guess.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head back to look at him. “Why?”

“Burning away the old, in with the new.” Karl sucked in a deep breath. “I'm…I'm happy you're still here with me.” He said gruffly.

“I'm happy to be here.” You assured him, your voice soft.

“...I haven't told Donna I'll be building a massive fire next to her shitty little village.” Heisenberg mentioned casually moments later, as though it had only just occurred to him. Judging from the incredibly smug grin on his face, however, that had been his plan from the start.

With Karl animatedly explaining about the Wild Hunt and the connections between someone named Freyja and the winter ‘rebirth’ of the sun, the two of you set off into the woods to search for dead trees and other dry kindling, his hand in your own. His grin eventually softened into a genuine smile as he answered your questions, and you found yourself falling silent just to hear him expand upon what was clearly a favored subject to him. He had a strange light in his eyes, but not necessarily an unwelcome one. It seemed more like he was returning to life.

The arbiter that was the solstice appeared to have once more come to bear, the cycle beginning anew. You had broken the previous cycle of course, so you hadn't the faintest idea of what this new one could have in store for you, but you knew for a fact that whatever the future held, you and Lord Heisenberg would face it together.

Karl, you thought privately, a content little smile on your face.

“Why are you starin’ at me like that?”

You started, realizing belatedly that yes, you had been staring at the large man currently giving you a sideways look. “I–you seem happy, that's all. And I'm glad that you are.”

Karl blew out a raspberry, the steam from his breath swirling into the air. “‘Course I am. You're here.” You started beaming and he groaned, rumpling your hair while teasing, “don't get any ideas, sweetheart. Just because I want to keep you around forever…”

A terrifying lord, a ferocious fighter, The Iron Horse…and lastly, your love.

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