#strahdanya von zarovich | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

obsidiancreates · 1 year ago

Text

Until Next Time (When Time Is Cut Short)

Whole thing is under a Read More because MAJOR SPOILERS FOR OUAW EPISODE 41!!! I'M TALKING GENUINELY MAJOR HERE PEOPLE!

TW grief, mourning, Major Character Death

Shoutout Shiloh and Draco from the Discord for helping write Strahdanya and Iris respectively

"Iris-"

"Quiet! I have to focus!"

"Iris, honey-"

"These won't be her final moments!"

"I know, I know, I don't want them to be either but-but she's already-"

"I can fix it! I've bought the dead back before!"

"You were alive then. Iris, you have to let her-"

"I don't have to do anything but save her!"

"... She's not comin' back, honey. She's gone from them. She'll be wakin' up with us soon."

"... She... she only just..."

"... I know. I know."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twig can't move.

She can't open her eyes.

Someone is cradling her. Small, warm hands, and as her face is cradled to someone's chest there's fur. For a second she thinks she must be in Gricko's arms, pressed against his vest.

And then a sweet southern voice says, "Hey there, sweet pea. It's alright now. I've gotcha."

"We've got you." A sharper voice says, not unkind, but furious about something, and yet... wavering.

"Open your eyes, little one," another voice says, powerful and commanding even as it's softened, like it's not used to being soft.

Twig slowly opens her eyes.

She's laying in the lap of a harengon woman, looking down at her with a sad smile as she brushes Twig's hair out of her face. "Hey there, Twiggsy."

Twig can't say anything back yet. Her throat hurts.

So her eyes travel and take in the other figures looming above her. A tabaxi woman, not the same kind as Frost, is kneeling beside her and the harengon. Even kneeling, she towers over the little brownie and rabbitfolk. Her eyes are bloodshot, her hand gripping the edge of her tunic tight enough to tear.

There's another woman, standing, looking down. Her face is the sort of stoic-still that comes with doing one's best to hide deep, overwhelming rage, yet as she looks into Twig's eyes there's sadness. Sympathy.

Pity.

"It's alright now, honey pie." The harengon woman says softly, holding Twig's hand now and rubbing it with her thumb. "You're gonna be just fine with us."

"Where-" Twig's voice cracks, and she coughs. It doesn't feel like a regular cough. No air comes out, and no air goes-

Goes i-

Twig almost bolts upright, but she's weak. She just twitches, and the tabaxi woman helps the harengon prop her up against something unseen.

"Where are my friends?" Twig tries to stand, and just can't. "What'd you do with my friends?!"

"We didn't do anythin' hon-"

"They are not your friends," the tall woman, vampire, snarls.

"Hey!" the harengon snaps. "Gentle right now. Gentle."

The snarl is slowly reigned in. Her eyes still burn.

The harengon turns back to Twig. "Your friends are alright," she assures. "They're... well, they're hurtin', and gonna be hurtin' for a while, emotionally."

There's a scoff from the tabaxi. The harengon takes a deep, composing breath.

"My name is Queenie March," she says, "Miss March, if yer nasty. This is-"

"I am Countess Strahdanya Von Zarovich. I am... sorry we had to meet so soon."

"... I'm Iris of the Sands, Daughter of the Pha- a former Pharoh of Sekhet." Iris, still sitting beside Twig to help prop her up, reaches down and holds one of Twig's hands. "I'm sorry as well."

"Sorry?" Twig looks at these strangers, knowing she's never met them, but feeling... something. A connection. The panic of before fades, and she feels she can... if not trust them, at least know them. Understand them, even without having met them before now. "Why are you sorry?"

Iris's hand grips hers a little tighter. "You... you've passed on. You're not among the living anymore."

"What?" Twig pulls her hand away. It's difficult to do. "No. No, I-I'm not..."

"It's not fair," Queenie says, voice breaking. "But I promise ya, it's gonna be alright."

"But-but my friends." Twig's eyes begin to well up. She tries, tries to get her wings moving, but they just won't. The weakness is fading, but something else is making it hard to move. It's not a heaviness, but it's not weightless, not like-

Like-

"My friends." Her voice cracks. "They're..."

"Alive." Strahdanya's voice is hard, cold. "Including the alligator."

"But I-I need to be there for them." Twig looks around, looks up, looks down, looks, but there's not even a glimpse, of them, of her, of her bo-

"Don't think about them now." Iris's voice is thick. "They tried. You can rest knowing that much."

"Iris even tried to help 'em," Queenie says, giving Iris a look of... it's hard to place. Sorrow, pity, pride, maybe all of them, maybe none. But it's a look that Iris can't meet, her eyes glued to the ground, her free hand gripping her hem, her jaw tight. "She's a cleric an' all, of a death god."

"Anubis." Iris tries to make it seems like she's not wiping tears from her eyes. It's a feat even the slyest of hand can rarely accomplish. "He... he still tried to bless your passing. It should have been painless."

"No, no!" Twig lets out a shuddering breath, gritting her teeth together. "This is my adventure, our adventure! This isn't- I need to go back to them! I need to help protect them and-and-"

"They do not need your protection, little one." Strahdanya finally kneels down, looking Twig in the eyes. "You are strong," she says quietly, "And loyal. You took your life by the reins, and made it your own. You are a warrior anyone would be lucky to have at their side." She wipes a tear from Twig's eyes, her long and sharp nail just barely brushing against Twig's eyelashes. "But they have failed you. Not the other way around."

"Strahdanya," Queenie whispers.

"They came for me, didn't they?" Twig gasps again, angry, hurt, disbelieving. "You said they came for me! They tried!"

"And it was not enough. Do not weep for them, little one. Especially for the excuse of a leader they have."

"I cannot believe he comes from Toa," Iris says, half a sniff, half a spit.

"He is much like the predecessor I knew." Strahdanya scowls, looking away from Twig now, up and off into memories. "Them and their fucking hats."

"Hey! This is about Twig right now." Queenie moves back into Twig's eyeline. "Listen, darlin'. We won't all be able to stick around a whole lot longer, okay? We usually fade away for a bit until the next one comes along. But we wanna make sure you're okay first, while we can."

"But... my adventure. My friends. My inn."

"You were cheated." Strahdanya sounds so sure, so certain, and it doesn't make things better, it doesn't erase the pain. "You had much more to do. More to see. More to live."

"It... it happens sometimes." Queenie nods a little. "But I have some good news anyway. Our soul keeps comin' back, new life, new things to do and places to see, and so do theirs. All your friends yer so worried about right now, they'll be comin' back too. Maybe not all at once, but we'll find 'em again. We do every time."

"... Every time?"

"Can't get rid of 'em if we tried."

Twig looks down, one hand still of to the side clutched by Iris, the other gently laid in her lap with Queenie's own hand covering it. "... Did..." Twig sniffs and looks up, eyes wide behind her glasses. "Did Kremy at least get his hat back?"

Queenie's ears go flat as she tenses.

Iris's hand grips Twig's tight enough to hurt.

Strahdanya. Stands. Up.

"You are better than a hat," she hisses. "He threw you away for a piece of fabric!"

"He didn't-!"

"You jumped in for it because he would not shut up about it!" Iris twists to sit in front of Twig without letting go of, or twisting, Twig's hand. "He's an idiot who couldn't see past his own snout if your favorite one punched it flat into his face!"

"Hey!"

"You were a gift to them," Strahdanya hisses again. "You killed for them, for him, even after he almost killed you!"

"He didn't mean it!"

"But then he did it again!" Iris's tail lashes, a low growl coming from her throat, her pupils slits. "He strung you along with little praises here and there like you were some toy!"

"He's my friend!" Twig stands, she stands! She stands on her feet and flaps her wings and meets Iris nose-to-nose! "We won Electrum Chef together! He talked the bullywugs out of hurting me-"

"You were in that situation because of them!"

"Well I wanted and adventure!"

"YOU DESERVED A BETTER ONE!" Iris stands, ears flat, fur spiked. "A BETTER ADVENTURE, A BETTER GROUP, A BETTER CHANCE!"

Silence.

...

Long, tearful silence.

"... You deserved a better chance." Queenie's voice is quiet. "You should know that, sweet pea. You deserved... a better chance."

Twig's wings droop.

"I love my friends," she whispers. She wipes her eyes, but the tears keep coming, keep coming, keep coming, and the sobs come with them. "Ev-even if they're not-not the best, I-I love th-them."

"I know." Queenie hugs her, tight yet careful. "I know. And you're not wrong for that."

"They are wrong, for not living up to it." Strahdanya looks at Iris. "They, are wrong."

"... You should never have been in that situation." Iris kneels back down. "Even if they'd had a cleric who could bring you back, you should never be in a situation that needs that kind of magic. It means things have gone... too far."

Twig hugs Queenie back. "I-I'm going to-to miss them. They-they'll be so-so hurt."

"They will be fine." Strahdanya's tone is cold, even if her words are reassuring. "I have faced three of their souls before. They will be... formidable. Enough to... live."

She says the word like it's a curse.

"And we'll fin 'em again," Queenie promises. "We always do."

"Gideon- he'll miss Pig-Pigtunia-"

"He'll be okay. He'll be okay." Queenie looks down. "I think our time's comin' to a close now, sweetheart."

Twig looks down as well. Her form is beginning to fade, to sleep, to lay dormant until the next time.

And then... a light.

They all turn to it.

It's four figures, traveling. Three are gray.

One is not.

Twig walks closer, pressing her hands against some unseen wall. The figure that glows, the figure that shines, the figure that calls to her, turns and presses her hands against it as well.

Twig tears up again. She knows, she feels, who this is.

"This hasn't happened before," she hears Queenie say behidn her. But it's not time for that.

Twig presses closer to Sylvie, and they look each other in the eyes.

"You gotta have enough adventures for both of us. Okay?" Twig says. "And you gotta make sure you make it to the end of them."

Sylvie nods.

Twig feels, in her soul, that it's a promise.

And she smiles.

...

And...

She fades.

#legends of avantris #once upon a witchlight #and other campaigns #Shared Souls AU #my attempts at fanfic #fanfic #angst #major character death

16 notes · View notes