batb part two: electric boogaloo

[fearlessly]

[ alisaie is not afraid of the woods.

truthfully, alisaie is not afraid of much at all - not the things that most are afraid of, at least. she does not fear the dark, or wolves, or bandits. she does not fear loud storms or knives in the dark of faerie tale monsters stalking haunted forests. what she fears is being along. grieving. losing those she loves.

and that is why she is here. alisaie has ridden tirelessly through the night, driving baptiste hard over the hard, wintry earth, her breath frozen in her lungs, the frigid wind stinging her cheeks and ears and eyes. alphinaud is her entire world. he is all that she has, all of her family that remains, and the thought of living her life without him, moving forward alone..

she would rather not move forward at all.

and so she will find him, regardless of he consequence, heedless of the potential danger, for without him, she has no life at all.

baptiste remembers the way, and though she can feel the tension and fear in the body of the horse beneath her, still they press on, hooves slamming hard into the earth, empty branches pulling at her hair, whipping over their heads. the forest seems to go on and on, deeper and deeper into darkness and mist, until at long, long last the space opens up, and a dark castle looms ahead, its twisted spires climbing into the gray sky, its gloomy edifice frowning down as she approaches the wrought iron gates choked with decayed vines.

alisaie is not afraid of much, yet still the sight of it sends a chill down her spine.

what is this place? she's heard of no such estate as this - a castle, so close to the village? how have there been no stories? no history? she has ridden less than a day to find her brother, not far from home at all, and yet.. there is nothing in their books about this great castle, no tall tales, nothing at all. it is a phantom. still, somehow it feels familiar to her.. like a memory of a dream's dream.

exhaling a shudder, alisaie slides from baptiste's back, leading him to an icy, overgrown brook for a drink, looping the reins over a strong, bare branch before at last she approaches the castle. it's silent, sinister, but she.. she has no choice. if this is where alphinaud is, then she must press forward. the rusted gates groan, splitting the silence, and alisaie approaches the great doors, the old rotten oak swinging beneath her weight as she slips carefully into the great, dark foyer. ]

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[punshots]

[ ...Whatever fortune brought her to his castle, he does not deserve her. He doesn't deserve her compassion or her empathy, after everything he's done, and yet she gives it freely, and while his artificial features have trouble capturing it, his expression crumples, his free hand lifting to catch his face, a dry, gasping sob caught in his throat.

He cannot begin to express with words just how deeply those words touch him, how much they mean, how welcome they are, after years and years and years beyond memory of loneliness, of keeping himself closed off. Perhaps at last...he can try to...let someone in.

What a terrifying and wonderful idea. He cannot help but think that this new bond forged between them is tenuous and ill-fated, that it cannot possibly last in the face of all he has to fix within himself, that he is damaged beyond repair. But despite his best efforts, she has glimpsed his true heart beneath the beast, and for her kindness, he owes her nothing less than to at least try.

And it can start right here, with her. With the strength of another buoying him up, lending him the strength to stand when his own legs won't carry him. ]

I...I don't know what to say...you should hate me. But you...

[ He looks down again at their joined hands, at her slim fingers within his thick, cold grasp. ]

You...make me want to hope again.

[fearlessly]

[ it makes her heart ache a little to see him crumple, but she knows that it is important, that it is a first step toward something greater, something better, an outlook for him that could be healthier and happier. she is not foolish enough to think that she alone can fix his problems, no one can truly "fix" another person, but she can help him, support him, and believe in him. he risked himself to save her life, he left his beloved castle walls to pluck her from the snow when he could have left her to die. she know how much that means, what a big step forward it is. with a little help, mayhaps he can step forward a little further every day.

gently, she weaves her fingers more tightly through his own. his hands are large and powerful and dangerous, but she has never felt more safe in her life. she knows now that no matter what, he will not hurt her.

but she's still so tired. warmed by the tea, she is able to settle against her pillows again, her eyelids dropping low. ]

You worry too much.

[ she murmurs through the curve of a smile, a quiet laugh in her throat to stand against the sob in his. ]

[punshots]

[ Maybe he does worry too much. It's hard not to, with what he's been through, with what time has made him, but...even if he was always a worrier, it didn't manifest quite like this. Maybe this is something he's supposed to learn from all this. Maybe this is how he can begin to grow again, step by step, until his heart can be free from fear and doubt.

His gaze settles on her as she leans back against the pillows, and a peace unlike anything he has known in ages settles over him like a warm blanket, eclipsing entirely the fear he had felt before. And...he smiles. It's weak and fleeting, but irrefutably there, the mark of the person he once was, and perhaps...the mark of the person he can become once again. ]

Mayhap I do. [ Gently, he squeezes her hand, mindful of the pressure he applies to her still-recovering fingers. ] Get some rest, Alisaie.

[ He will...continue to watch over her, as she does so, and marvel that maybe, just maybe, there is a way out of this pit of despair he has wallowed in for so very long. ]