“Barbaric Red” (wlw)
summary: a village girl decides to break the rules of her village and wander the forest, but does not expect to stumble upon the character of their ruthless myth.
pairings: afab!village girl x afab!ageless ‘myth’
warnings: knife grazing, suggestive flirting
Boundaries, once broken, were forever forgotten. Never again heard, its voice a meek whisper in the wind—nature’s song of wonder and awe too loud for it to ever be heard. Even in the purest silence of night, the boundaries cries would go unheard. As her feet lay bare against the overgrown grass and her hands trail the rough bark of untethered trees, the beauty of the forbidden plugs her ears. Her own tethers, shredded in amazement.
She did not know fear, even in the darkest moments of the night. Even when the wolves howled in the midst of the witching hour, she felt curiosity. So as she walked through the tall grass, her feet bare against the soft soil and tickling grass, there was no fear to turn her back. There was no voice loud enough to tell her no. There was only her own mind, begging to know more, see more, feel more. For her, it was as if fear did not exist.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice, as airy and soft as a breeze, lulled her out of her wonder, “Look above, love.”
She was hidden in the trees, yet the moonlight seemed to cast down on her. A shadow against the moon, meant to be seen in a blanket of dark. Long, messy braids trailed down her body and to her ankles while its bright red color stood out against her otherwise shadowed body. Although, even in the darkness, she could see that the other girl had hardly any clothes: seemingly leaf and scrap fabric strewn undergarments, leaving most of her body exposed. Even her feet were bare.
“Are you not cold?” The village girl asked, curiosity and concern in tow.
She simply smiled, “The wind becomes your blanket after so long. You adapt. What is your name?”
“Ollie. What is yours?”
“Well, Ollie,” she paused, drawling out each syllable as she hopped down from the tree and landed mere inches in front of her, “I do not have a name. I was never given one. I have never been addressed by any. What your village calls me is beyond my knowledge, but I imagine it is nothing kind. Yes?”
Ollie only stared in confusion, not understanding the implications behind her words. She seemed to find this amusing, letting out a low chuckle, “What? Have you forgotten of the myth they repeat nearly every night?”
It was then that Ollie realized who she was speaking to, who stood mere inches from her with a small dagger she had not noticed before in her hand. Alone in the wilderness, as always, Barbaric Red. She had heard her stories as a child, a myth in the mist of the unknown. A simple story spoken to spook the children into their beds at night and away from the barriers at day. Had Ollie known who the boogeyman was, she would consider them comparable. The subject of every child’s nightmare, yet never once hers. Rather a spectacle of curiosity and possible misunderstanding. Night after night, day after day, Ollie had formed her own stories of Red.
She realized she had been staring for a minute, finally letting the words stumble out in a whisper, “We call you Barbaric Red.”
Red only scoffed, “Barbaric? Do you believe me to be barbaric?” Ollie noticed the soft smoothness of her tone had been quickly dropped.
“I believe you to be unknown to us, to me.”
“How old are you, Ollie?” She inched closer, Ollie instinctively stepping back.
“Eighteen.”
“Would you like to know how old I am, love?”
She stared in silence, raking her own mind for possible answers. She looked no more than eighteen herself, but her stories were ages old. Her stories were older than her greatest of grandmothers, yet her face was smooth and wrinkleless. Her body held strong, and did not sag or spoil. Ollie, for once, could not offer an answer she had faith in. Ollie found, rather, that her eyes trailed over Red in something unlike curiosity, something unfamiliar. But she did not linger.
“I do not know. You are a myth to even me.” This answer made her smile, again stepping closer. Ollie, again, instinctively stepped back and felt the bark of a tree graze against her clothed back.
Red spoke softly, “I am ageless. I am gifted by the Gods. An abandoned child, left to fend for herself in the wilderness. At eighteen, they deemed me worthy of becoming an ageless myth to the village.” She came closer to Ollie and leaned over her, an arm resting on the bark beside her head. “They ‘blessed’ me with an eternity to provoke and frighten those who left me to wither alone.”
Her back was now pressed flushed against the bark. “That seems more of a curse than a blessing.”
“Does it?” Her face was now to the side of hers, her mouth grazing against her ear as she whispered, “Tell me, Ollie. Is your own life not a curse?”
Ollie could not hold back the shiver that ran down her spine as she felt Red’s breath against her neck, her voice softly echoing in her mind. “I, uh, it is not. I am very—” her breath caught as she grazed her dagger against her thigh, “I am very content with my life.”
Her mouth remained at her ear, speaking at a harsh whisper as she continued to graze her dagger up her body, “Content with ignorance?”
“I am not ignorant of anything.” Even through her clothes, she could feel the tip of the dagger brush against her, and she found herself wanting it against her bare skin.
“Oh?” She chuckled against her ear, a rippling sensation rushing against her skin as another shiver ran down her spine. Ollie’s breaths were now shaky, although she assumed they had been for a while now, but she could not understand of what, if not fear. Yet, even despite that, she knew it could not be fear. It was almost a sense of burning anticipation, one that she had not felt before. However, before she could begin to understand, to merely wonder, Red pulled away and broke contact.
“I suppose you should see back to your village, if you are so knowledgeable,” she shrugged, a plain statement in disregard to Ollie’s distress.
Her eyes dropped to the forest floor as her brows furrowed in confusion, unsure how to respond. When she looked back up, Red was staring at her with a weirdly empty, yet soft, expression. “Well?”
“Right…right, I suppose I should.” She began to turn, but turned back rather quick as she heard Red leap into a nearby tree, “Um, will I see you again?”
She grinned from atop the branches, “Only in the wilderness.”