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Jeremy von Neuschwanstein x F!reader.
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Prolouge ACT 1 ACT 2 ACT 3 ACT 4 ACT 5
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"Void of dreams, I lie in mortal lethargy..."
It has been a few weeks since [Name] had relocated to this strange county.Ā
Marta kept her busy from dawn until dusk, the only time she got out of the house was to either run an errand for Marta or to feed the farm, and the rest of the time she was a no name in the village, Although she had learned a few familiar faces, like take the bakers wife or Dr.Augustine--an acquaintance of a certain herbologist, he lived close to Ms Marta and would always wave a 'Hi!' to [Name], who would respond with a little wave of her own.
There was always something to do ,Ā never giving her a time to float into her endless dreamworld like she used to do a few weeks ago as a 'Vadenburgh', it was now a privilege , that title meant nothing here, that both excited her and also scared her, because the idea of truly being alone, no title, no place to return to was almost horrifying.Ā Almost.
Ā Because no matter how bad her life was , how bad itĀ hasĀ been , there were good memories atleast, a few , that she counts on here and then for hope, like eating mangoes with her brother as children after a long day of playing in summer, staining each other's clothes with yellow sweet and play fighting with toothless grins , sneaking into the kitchen and convincing smiling maids to give her sweet treats at night. She recalls with a small smile.
So when life shoves her ,she remembersĀ the screams of her people in Lysandra , the horrifying images and was thankful that her life was better in some way. And she needs to be grateful for it.Ā AtleastĀ that's what she tells herself every morning anyway's , whose to say her body is willing to listen . SheĀ believesĀ that it's gonna get better, but the ache in her heart and burn in her eyes every night as she slept tells a different story.Ā
Ā A few minutes to sit down and then chop cop into working like herbs to sort, bandages to boil, tools to clean all which she learns by simultaneously doing it along with Ms. Marta or by watching her, just hovering above her as she worked, it sometimes annoyed the older companion which resulted in [Name] smiling awkwardly, rubbing her neck and moving away a bit further, almost like a sad puppy.
Though [name] knew Ms. Marta never meant ill, and she made sure to work herself off to repay the gratitude she felt the day she was saved by her. The work was simple but endless, time-consuming and very tiring, [Name]'s hands learned the motions before her mind could wander to darker places. Like the dayĀ everything went to damnation. And the darker days that took place before the damnation.
Though they were all so...blurry , they plagued her dreams like an endless song , never ending and always residing in her mind, humming the tune of despair. So, the work helped and she was grateful forĀ Ms Marta for one more thing.
[Name] looked up from the poultice she was attempting to mix. Marta stood over her, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"You're pressing too hard, that bruises the leaves. and that leads to them losing their potency." The older woman reached down and adjusted [Name]'s grip on the mortar and pestle. Coarse hands grabbing softer hands that are slowly showing the ache of an herbologist and a farmer, rough callouses stand proudly atop [Name]'s finger's , "Gentle, Circular. Like you're coaxing the medicine out, not forcing it. got it? Try it again."
TheĀ apprentice tried again. Slower this time. More careful. Explicitly going over the words of her mentor in her mind.
"Better." Marta turned back to her own work without another word.
It was the closest thing to praise [name] had received since arriving in Stilldale, she stopped her work for a moment to stare at the older woman's back with a small smile and eye's big in a circle, a warm sensation flooding her cheeks. Before the same stern voice broke her out of the staring, "Focus. Otherwise the mixture's gonna dry up." A hint of amusement in her voice, [Name] flinched a bit before going back to her work quickly, her ears now warm.
'How did she know... scary..'
The first time Marta let her assist with a real patient, [Name]'s hands shook. Although she had tried convincing Marta that the 3 weeks of trainingĀ wasn'tĀ enough for her to deal with real cases. Well, she never even imagined doing a real case, she only thought her contributions were limited to meagre work. But Marta insisted--countering her withĀ 'If not now, when? toughen up lil girl, you learn more by doing this'.
It was an evening when A young boy---maybe seven or eight----had fallen from a tree and split his forearm open on a sharp branch. His mother carried him in, the child wailing, blood dripping onto Marta's clean floor. [name] just stood there on the sideline , her fingers tangling up in one another , staring at the boy whose cries probably reached the whole county.Ā 'So much ...blood'. She could only focus on the dripping noise of blood when the familiar voice carried into air.
"Fetch the yarrow," Marta said calmly. "And the clean cloths. The boiled ones."
[Name] stood frozen for a heartbeat too long. Her heartbeat was racing with her mind as she could only just cosplay as an iceberg, unable to think of anything else but bloodbloodblood and then gunpowder, bombs, her hands itching to cover her ears, cold sweat that felt like a dump of cold water on her back-
"Now, girl." She jumped a bit and looked at Ms. Marta who now stared at her with so much force and strictness that broke her out of the spiral she was thrusted into earlier.
She moved. Just like she had moved that day, with hurry in her steps and worry.
Her hands remembered what her mind couldn't , her brain wasn't cooperating as it only played her running for her life, losing gwen, the uncertainity of losing her brother, as if it was mocking her.
The yarrow was in its usual place. The cloth's were where Marta always kept them. She laid everything out on the table, her hands still shaking with tremors, Marta glanced at them before turning back to her work, [Name] quickly hid her hands behind her , holding tightly--enough to leave marks to make it stop. while Marta now examined the wound, her rough fingers gentle against the boy's skin.
"Good," The one in charge said , whether to her or the boy, she wasn't sure. "Hold his hand. Talk to him. Keep him still."
[Name] nodded, and sat down next to the kid, and took the boy's small, grubby hand in hers. He looked up at her with tear-filled blue eyes, lower lip trembling. He was shaking so badly, her hands trembled a little less now, her heart itching to reassure the baby in front of her. His head turned to look at his mom frantically talking with Marta before trying to look down at his bleeding injury and [name]'s hand shot out, gently taking his chin in her hands as she titled it upwards to face her.
"It's going to be okay," she heard herself say with the gentlest and kindest smile she could muster, whether it was to herself or him, she didn't know. "Marta's the best healer in the valley, the little injury will be gone in no time,Ā You'll have a scar to show your friends!"
The boy sniffled. "Really?" His eyes still crinkled at the pain but focused on her now, tears still flowing. She nodded, smiling more , her thumb unknowingly caressing his cheek that was damp with his sorrow.
"Really. Very brave people get scars you know ,Ā not many have marks of bravery to show..." She squeezed his hand gently. "What's your name?"
"Tomas." She smiled, "Tomato?" , the boy widened his eyes a bit before shaking his head with his eyebrows furrowed, "No! Its tomas!", She heard Ms. Marta huff a small smile as she applied the mix on the boy's arm.
The girl blinked and then hummed, keeping one hand on her chin as she pretended to mull over, trying to stall him from Marta's work on his arm, "Oh really? can you spell it out for me? I'm not as smart as you, you see...and by the time your done , Your hand will be fixed!" Her hands stopped shaking now.
He nodded , biting his lip when marta applied a bit pressure, "It's, t-o-m-a-s , not tomato!".Ā
"Thank you tomas! I got it now!" [Name] smiled brightly , rubbing his cheek more when she felt Tomas squeeze her hand so hard his knuckles went white. But he didn't scream. Marta was already wrapping the last bandage.
"Good job, boy," Marta said. "You'll live."
Tomas looked at his bandaged arm with something like wonder and sniffled. Then he looked at the girl who was now reaching beside him to grab what seemed like a small candied sugar treat, then turning back to him with a small smile as she handed it to him. The kid's eyes sparkled as he took it, a few moments of silence when the boy broke it.
"What's your name... miss?"
"It's [Name], Tomas." She smiled and titled her head a bit, confusion as to why the boy was asking her name.
"You said I'd have a scar."
"You will." She nods, and by the look of her face , it warped into worry--worry that she might have made the little youngling a bit sad at the fact that he's gonna have a scar. A scar that might aid his mind into thinking he's different from others as he grows up. A scar that could trouble him and let others trouble him for it so, as she opened her mouth, maybe to gently ease Tomas's worry, the said boy spoke up again.
"That's Cool, does ...that mean you have one?"...Silence encases the room once again but this time it was deafening, the [h/c]'s shoulders tense a bit as she looks at the boy , smiling a bit apologetically, though her eyes hold a subtle sorrow the seven year old boy wouldn't understand.Ā
"Oh my goodness!! im so sorry !! I-I , he shouldn't have asked that!" His mother-whose name you learned was Hillary , bowed her head a bit , shaking her head at Tomas, and looking at you with worry.Ā
Marta seemed quiet during this whole thing, eyes intensely watching [Name] like a hawk, she notices the tensed shoulders, her fingers wringling--something she always noticed with the girl in distress. Sensing this , the younger one just avoided Ms. Martas eye's , now smiling awkwardly towards the mother , assuring her with "It's okay! don't worry about it Miss.." .
After the Mother had endlessly thanked Both Marta and [Name] , the mother son duo left not before Tomas had demanded to hug the young girl goodbye, [Name] couldn't stop smiling after that . It was quiet now save for the chirping of common starlings perched on branches outside. [Name] had realized she'd grown fond of their company during her afternoon pastimes.
The apprentice quietly worked, cleaning up the place, and when she reached the blood on the floor , she stilled, her eyes dilating a bit--she blinked and for a split second she was back in Lysandra.
She crouched down with a rag, heaving a sigh , her hands starting to tremble a bit, when the very familiar coarse hands--the sensation which she has come to know for the past weeks, grabbed hers and made her forcefully drop the rag, that ultimately got a reaction out of the girl as she looked at the older woman in question--Who now just stared at her with a narrow gaze, "Just...leave this part to me. You go and handle yourself first, looks like you could use a bath."
[name]'s cheeks warmed asĀ she blinked, staring dottily at the person in front of her,--'did she smell?',Ā she tried sniffing herself subtly, but before she could feel any more embarrassment, Marta tapped her forehead with two fingers, her head tilted back. And then, she felt nothing but warmth. The endless anxiety. The worry. everything was gone. Her heart ever so vibrant was now placcid.
A breeze through the gaps of the now open window's flushed through, blowing the older woman's hair a bit out place, the evening sun's tame light rays , hitting the crevices on the older woman's face . [Name] could only feel her eye's widen, as she drank in the scene, her heart....it felt like it could burst.Ā
'Why was this woman so kind to me? a kindness I haven't received even from my own mother.'
The Warmth [Name] only felt during the days when she was still the size of three apples and had smeared chocolate on her cheek's, that was wiped by worrisome maids . "I don't know if you take me for a fool 'girl. But I need you to know, I notice everything that goes around here. And that includes what u do, and how you behave."
[Name] gulped a bit at the sudden stern gaze of the woman, before nodding,Ā 'Did I do something wrong?'Ā , her eyebrows furrowed slightly as her eye's trailed downwards.
Another tap on her forehead.
She looked up. Surprised to see Ms. Marta looking at her with sweetness in her eyes, like honey could drip out any moment from the earnest pair, it froze her. Her eyes which she always thought were so kind--somehow felt even more kinder.
That made her go still, so still, she didn't notice the burning behind her own eyes until a lump formed in her throat. "You were sweating alot lassie, although it's spring. Not so much heat around here." And it was silence for a good while, the young girl could only do so much as to stare, and not say anything, her fingers had started picking the dry skin , already knowing what the next question might be, she swallowed a bit , now looking down, preparing to lie again like she had the first time, but stopped when she saw the pair of wrinkled hands gripping hers,
"Now, I ain't as cruel as a villain to ask what is the deal with you fidgeting so much, I assumed when you knew much of the herbs I taught you that you probably had experience at coming in contact with blood. But....now I see that's not the case".
[Name]'s eyes had now become marbles---marbles that held a well of tears. She had waited. Waited for any prick of disappointment she could sense in Marta's voice. The disappointment she was used to from her father.Ā But there was none.Ā
Only words that seemed like hands wrapping around her to protect her. Protect. She felt ...safe.
And then soft pats over her hands, "So I won't question anything...for now. I ...Don't know what you have been through , but your gonna be okay with me around [Name]."
At the mention of her name, which had come out so delicately out of Marta's mouth , her hands which had been encased under a soft grip, limp, shuffled and held the wrinkled fingers with desperation, [name]'s lower lip trembled as she tried her best to hold the waterfall that seemed to drip down her face , afraid of the rejection for this weakness to come. But she took one more look at Ms. Marta , still giving her an expression that seemed like an embrace , and that seemed to be the landslide to push the waterfall out of her eyes.
Two strong hands, hands that she was sure she would remember the feeling of , till the day her lips turned blue , pushed her head to lean on the sturdy shoulder of Marta. And so she cried, like an infant wailing in starvation, the tears that used to seem like a sin to do back home now rushed out freely, grabbing onto the fabric of the lady's apron, shuffling her head into the crook of Ms. Marta's neck, breathing in the herby scent--a scent she can remember for comfort now, as she felt the same wrinkled hands, smooth her hair down.
'Her embrace truly feels like the heaven beneath a mothers feet.'
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NOTE: I hope this wasn't fast paced, like i wanted to make sure there was a build up to the point where there is trust between Marta and Reader. Can u tell my fav character is Marta ;p . We all love marta in this club. I hope u guys were able to peep that i used poetry in this chapter more rather than the others, in a way , because reader used to journal, so for memoriesĀ and people she cherishes she loves to observe and do poetry. [Name] is a confirmed yearner.
Me if young cunty marta popped up in front of me. (Marta was infact a baddie when she was younger).
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