Dedication
Pairing: Soft!dark!Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: cheating, murder, suicide, resurrection, mute!reader, soft!dark!Steve, unrequited love, jealousy, yandere, protective!Steve, obsession, possessive behaviour, references to other fics
Words: 5165
Summary: Steve had been with her, always had been. He only wanted her to be happy. Not even death could take her from him.
Inspired by Snow White but Snow White is not the main character :0
The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was the sight of him with a bright smile on his face, he looked like he was going to burst into tears of joy, emotion seemed to flood him. She didn’t know why, supposed if she knew, she wouldn’t be able to comprehend. Her mind was foggy, she had no idea of time, she didn’t know where she was and why he was here with her, she was unable to know who she was, or what she was. He had blonde hair and a set of blue eyes. He was a dead ringer for someone who she felt like she had known but couldn’t quite recall. Everything was hazy. Her body felt like it was on the verge of crumbling away, she was weary in body and mind.
She found out she wasn’t capable of communicating, but she could understand what he said. He said he was never going to let anyone hurt her again, she didn’t know what he meant by that.
“... When the princess ate the apple, she grew longing for the fairy prince. One day, he came to visit her again and took her to the Otherworld where they lived happily ever after.”
He read stories for her before bedtime, saying they were her favourite when she was little and she would fall asleep halfway through them. The odd was, she didn’t quite recall, she also didn’t feel sleepy at all after he finished a story. Her eyes kept wide open, emotionless, and looking at him while her mind was blank. He asked why she hadn’t slept yet with concern in his bright blue eyes, but gave up right after he remembered something, she supposed. The day after, he changed her bedtime, she didn’t sleep when the chamber went dark anymore, he let her sleep when sunlight entered the chamber through the glass windows. This time, she found herself being able to sleep, if sleep felt like the time before the quietness was disturbed by him and she cracked her eyes open for the first time.
Her bed was filled with red roses, with her lying in the middle of them, their fragrance was pleasant and mouthwatering. They were red, but sometimes she saw some white spots on them. Their colour smeared the white bedsheet, leaving dark red stains on it. Usually, she would pluck the petals off and shoved them into her mouth, sating her appetite right on her bed. She felt convalescing with each mouthful she swallowed. He never complained about that, he was content, even. Watching her devour the flowers with a gentle smile on his face, as if he put the roses there for her to eat.
He served her an apple a day, placing it on a silver plate, coating it with a scrumptious red sauce. She never got sick of eating it - the fruit that was even more splendid than the roses. The apples recuperated her health, she was recovering, even though she didn’t remember getting sick or sort of.
He had been kind to her, showering her with affection. He was persistent with her supposed recovery, patiently helping her get back on her feet. He praised her with the most beautiful and gracious words that he could think of once she eventually took her first wobbly steps. She might be able to walk before, she thought, but what had happened that made her need to learn it again? What happened? He didn’t tell her, she couldn’t ask, she still couldn’t talk.
He tried to spend as much time as he could with her and retaught her everything. His face lit up every time she responded to his words, a shake or nod of her head brought a smile to his lips, he would get her a book or a comb across the room if she pointed her finger at it. He ran a bath and prepared clothes for her by himself. He also took responsibility for washing her body. He blushingly explained that she was to be bathed by a maid but no one else should enter the house, given their circumstance. What circumstance were they in? She had no idea, and she didn’t care much about being bathed by the man either, he was the only one here with her ever since her wake, anyway.
Her steps became gradually steady and she eventually walked well. Occasionally, when she was bored of pacing around the chamber, she would leave it and venture around the house. He never complained about that, he was happy to see her lively, even. Yet it seemed like he didn’t want her to go outside of the house. She didn’t know why. It was for her safety, he explained as he saw her questioning gaze.
She learnt to express her emotions, mostly she just imitated him, copying the way the corners of his lips curved upwards, the way his eyebrows raised, or the way his eyes squinted slightly.
She began to notice the difference between her and his food. Hers was just an apple whereas he had various meals per day. She never saw him eating any apples, and she once tried his food, which he claimed was her favourite when she was younger, it wasn’t to her liking now. She wondered if he was having a laugh.
One night, she found him descending the cellar as she sauntered around the house in the dark. Curious, she followed him down there, where her nose detected the familiar delicious smell of apples. There was another door at the end of the stairs that was left ajar, he was doing something in the cellar, she could hear the sound of something being chopped off and the plink of water droplets dripping down. The aroma was strong here. Unable to resist the temptation, she pushed the door, revealing his silhouette moving around the place. The creak of the door caught his attention, he turned to her direction, despite the dim light lit by a few candles, her eyes could clearly see his expression getting softened the moment he saw her. He halted his work and strode up to her, blocking her view to the cellar with his board body.
“Do you need something? You should be in your room and resting right now,” his voice was soft and gentle as he asked.
She shook her head. She just trailed behind him out of boredom. Her eyes left his face, she stood on tiptoe, trying to look around the cellar with curiosity, she had explored every room in the house except this place which was always securely locked, but his fingers were on her chin and directed her face back to him in a flash, she only managed to catch a glimpse of a bunch of white roses placed next to a barrel filled with red liquid, and some shadows.
“Please go back to your room, down here has many foul rottens, you shouldn’t be here,” he said, “I’m just disposing of some weeds and making the best use of them. I’ll be back and read you some stories, doesn’t that sound appealing?”
She noticed the wetness of his fingers on her skin, they smelled good, like the sauce coating the apples. They captured her interest, she yearned to lick his finger so bad. Her tongue darted out, downwards. Knowing what she wanted, he brushed his thumb across her tongue. His body trembled lightly with excitement and his eyes got keen as she gave him some kitten licks. Eventually, she went back upstairs and waited for him in her chamber.
She had a feeling that he was hiding something from her, something important. There was something not quite right. And she had turned a blind eye to it for so long. The way he kept her in the house, her unusual food and slumbertime compared to his, the faded roses… And tonight, the locked cellar and its contents just added to the list.
He did go back to her chamber after one or two hours with three fresh red roses. He selected a book, settled down on his usual seat next to her bed, and read her some stories as per his promise. Once he finished the last story, the roses were petalless, her lips were now as red as the roses, and the sun was rising, it was her bedtime.
The day after, when he was out in the afternoon, she went to the entrance to the cellar, she was determined to discover his secret. It was locked. She frustratingly gripped the iron lock with all her might, to her surprise, it fell apart and made a heavy thud as it hit the floor. She stared at the broken lock, amazed by the unbeknown strength she possessed, but soon she shoved the thought aside and descended the cellar. Behind the other closed door, instead of the white roses, she saw a bunch of red ones next to the barrel. She approached the barrel and opened the lid, it was filled with crimson liquid, the familiar fragrance of her food emitted from it, no doubt. The cellar was also crammed with bodies. Corpses. Mutilated. Some were on the ground, some were hung upside down above many barrels. Each one had a hole in its right chest.
She didn’t know much about moral standards, she was clueless of life itself. But she knew the scene before her eyes wasn’t a common thing to be in a house. She didn’t find any answer for her question here. And before she knew it, her feet had led her to his room, searching for something that could explain this all. She found an old thick notebook on his desk. At the spine of the notebook carved the name ‘Steven Grant Rogers’. It was his name, he had made her write his and her names down on some pieces of papers when he retaught her to write. She opened the diary and began to read the first page.
.
May 23
Today was the first day I began to work at the house. Master gave me a place in the arctic in his house.
My job is to serve young lady as both her servant and guard.
She is four years younger than me.
I was told by madam to only talk to her if needed, and once I did, I had to use the most beautiful and gracious language that I could.
The miss is lovely, she seems like a care-free lady. She is amicable, saying I don’t need to be so formal. Apparently, she loves to talk, she loves to talk to me.
She even gifted me this big notebook when she learnt that I liked to write and draw. It is my treasure now.
My days start at early dawn.
The first thing I have to do is to go to the kitchen and bring the food that is prepared for young miss to her chamber, where I light the fire to warm the room and then wake her up.
I will have my meal when the maids help change her attire.
.
This was Steve’s diary and she was the central topic of his writing. His diary was also full of drawings of her, from when she was little. Steve was her servant and he had been with her ever since they were both children. She could once… talk? She didn’t remember this. She didn’t remember anything. Why didn’t she? What happened? Would his diary let her know?
She had a hunch that it could give her the answer. So she kept reading. The next pages showed how his days went, Steve only talked about her, what she did a day and how he served her. The words conveyed his merriment every time he pleased her.
.
July 12
The thunderstorm came with heavy rain today. Lightning lit the sky, thunder rumbled, and rain pattered against the windows.
I don’t like tempest at all, because it scares the young miss.
She asked me to read stories for her. I picked up one of the fairy tale books master bought for her. I sat down on a chair next to her bed, with a candle on the nightstand and read the story aloud. The miss loved fairy tales a lot.
The story was about a white witch living in the forest, where she found an astray boy, she adopted him and they lived in her cottage together, the little boy later grew up to be a powerful knight and repaid her kindness.
When I finished the story, she was already asleep. So I closed the book, extinguished the candle, and retreated to my chamber.
.
July 13
It has been raining all day.
Young miss asked me to read her bedtime stories again.
Today’s story was about a little blind girl lost in a forest and was rescued by a sorcerer. She fell in love with him but the villagers assumed he was evil and tried to separate them.
She commented it was so cruel of them, I thought so, too. She dropped off before getting to know the ending.
I guess I will tell her tomorrow.
.
July 14
I began to enjoy reading stories for her. I liked to narrate them in my diary and write down how she felt about them.
She said to me this noon that she would like me to keep reading for her.
I was overjoyed.
I am still happy now.
But the fairy tale for today seemed a little scary. The rumbling storm only made it worse.
I regret reading it.
It was a tell of a demon born from oral stories people told on Halloween. It had a black cat that helped kidnap unlucky humans.
She didn’t sleep halfway through it, she got scared and asked me to hold her hand, pleading with me to stay with her through the night, fearing the Demon of Halloween would come and get her. I tucked her in the blanket and assured I would never let it harm her.
Seeing her finally had a peaceful sleep was everything to me.
.
She kept turning the pages, another page was another affection and dedication of a servant to his lady. She was already halfway through his diary, yet there were no notes about what had happened that turned everything the way it was now. But she needed to keep reading, her instinct told her she would find something at the end of his diary.
.
May 23
Today marks 10 years I’ve been serving as her servant. The miss is now a beautiful lady. She is 19 this year. She loves walking around town and then having a picnic near the Lake of Sighs.
There is a legend about the lake and I once told her that this body of water was the body of a beautiful Nymph whose love perished in war. The nature deity was grief-stricken, she mourned for him until she dissolved into water.
Here, many heartbroken souls, whose loves weren’t fulfilled, chose burying themselves beneath the water over living without the loves of their lives.
The miss said she couldn’t withstand such sadness either. I didn’t carry on the conversation, I didn’t feel like I wanted to, I didn’t know if she implied anything by that. Her words unsettled my heart.
If… she ever falls in love with someone, I just hope she is treated right.
.
July 4
I escorted her to a party. She was more gorgeous than ever in her favourite dress.
It was there that she met a noble man and they immediately fell in love with each other. I stood at the corner of the room and kept an eye on her as it was my job. They were dancing to the music. In her eyes, I could see that she was content.
And I was glad for her.
.
July 6
The miss enjoyed a tryst with that noble man at the Lake of Sighs.
She told me she was delighted on our way back to the mansion.
I should wholeheartedly rejoice for her, because she found a man who made her happy, her happiness was everything to me.
But what is this hollow feeling in my chest?
Why am I sad?
.
July 15
They took a little walk across the street with me and his servant followed close behind.
I think his servant waffled something to me, maybe he said the miss and his master were a good match,
I’m uncertain, I just mindlessly trailed after her the whole walk.
But it was negligent of me. I shouldn’t have slacked off. What if my carelessness put her in danger?
I have to do my job, and, I have to be glad for her.
.
July 20
They enjoy afternoon tea at his place.
.
July 22
The miss asked me to deliver her love letter to the man.
.
July 23
I received a letter from his servant. I gave it to her.
.
July 28
That servant handed a brooch over to me. He said a love token for my miss from his master.
.
August 1
I was helping clean the house and decorate it with garlands for Lammas Day when the miss asked me to escort her to the church. Master must have told her to bring a loaf there.
As we walked out of the house, her lover was already waiting for her.
Her eyes lit up as she saw him.
.
August 5
They went for a picnic.
.
August 9
He hired an artist to paint a picture of him and my lady.
.
August 11
I delivered that man’s letter to her.
I went to his mansion this afternoon and gave another letter from her to him.
.
August 20
I have to prevent this feeling from consuming me.
What am I thinking?
How could a servant like myself dream of her? Let alone having these envious feelings.
My lady is happy. That is all that matters.
Even if I’m no longer the one who brings her joy.
Isn’t this what I wanted? For someone to love her dearly and treat her right?
I’m a mere servant, I just need to focus on my work.
.
The pages were filled with his brief descriptions of what she had done with said noble man, whose face she didn’t recall, left alone the memory she had with him. She felt Steve’s distress in the short sentences. The enthusiasm was gone, he had ceased the passionate words. She couldn’t imagine how he had endured the pain of unrequited love. He had been disheartened. Yet in the end, he’d tried to appease himself that at least it was enough for him if she was happy. She turned another page, having no expectation for what might happen next, yet his angry handwriting was enough to surprise her a little. Some parts of the paper were even torn, he must have put a lot of pressure on the pen and written at a furious and fast pace.
.
HE WAS UNFAITHFUL TO HER
HE HURT HER FEELINGS
BY GOD’S NAIL
HOW DARED HIM
HE BETRAYED HER
THAT BASTARD LEFT HER FOR ANOTHER WOMAN AND BROKE HER HEART
HE HURT HER FEELINGS
SHE CRIED
FOR GOD’S SAKE
SHE CRIED
HE MADE HER CRY
WHY DID HE DO THIS TO HER
.
Uneasiness dominated her heart. She remembered none of these, it was so unsettling. Had she lost her memory? Or did Steve fabricate all of this? She didn’t feel like he did. For what reason though? He had shown her nothing but kindness and dedication. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t dig up her memory. It was like everything had been stuffed in a locked drawer that had been stored deep in a forgotten part of her mind.
The next pages were more depressing than ever. Steve didn’t bother to write the dates.
.
She locked herself in her chamber for days.
I tried to console her, but my poor attempt helped little. Even master and madam couldn’t ease her grief.
She is crushed, she has languished in the darkness of her room and hardly touched the food I bought her. What should I do…?
I loathe that man. God, I despite him so much.
.
I can’t sleep, I can’t sleep anymore.
Why did this happen to her?
I have stood at her door for a fortnight when the sun set.
She weeps every single night.
My heart keeps dying every single second.
I don’t know how to help her.
God… what should I do?
.
She gets emaciated.
I can’t stand it anymore.
I just got back from her chamber, I pleaded with her to at least eat a little and succeeded.
She couldn’t even register my words. Without him, she was like a body without a soul. Her vacant eyes kept staring at the letters and the gifts he sent.
I want to destroy them so bad. I want to destroy him.
.
- Am I so unlovable and prosaic, Steve?
She asked me that when I cleaned her face with a handkerchief soaked in warm water. I was taken aback.
How could she be unlovable and prosaic?
She sobbed before I could give her an answer, drowning herself with self-hatred, thinking that she wasn’t good and pretty enough for that man, that it must be her fault he left.
I spent today assuaging her, neglecting my chores in the process.
I let her cry on my shoulder. At least she could cry to heal.
That man is a womaniser, butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. He doesn’t deserve her. She doesn’t have to degrade her value for such a man.
I wish she knows that I am always here for her and will never leave her alone.
.
Three months have passed.
She is getting back on her feet and healing, slowly but surely.
She is still very broody and sad. She still misses him. Though she doesn’t cry as much as before, hearing his name in a conversation still hurts her a lot.
.
I managed to persuade her to go downtown to purchase some stuff for Twelfth Night.
She needed some fresh air. I thought this was a good idea.
.
It was a mistake for me to let her wait alone at the corner of the street while I ran to buy her some fruits at the crowded stall.
In my peripheral vision, I saw THAT heartbreaker next to a woman. They stood in front of her. I couldn't hear what they said, but by judging her face. They must have added insult to her injury.
I darted to her with irritation, but they had gone at the time I reached her.
She cried. SHE CRIED.
She kept her face to the ground, hot tears vied for falling down.
I did everything I could to distract her from what they said. I didn’t know what those vile creatures told her, but it couldn’t be good.
I took her home, and the idea of shopping was forgotten.
.
She… has turned back to her grief-stricken self.
She sobbed a lot today. I was so helpless, I could only be there and hold her hand while she cried.
Why am I so useless?
.
SHE FINALLY TOLD ME WHAT THEY SAID TO HER THAT DAY
THAT PROSTITUTE OF A WOMAN RIDICULED HER, TELLING HER TO KILL HERSELF WHILE HE STOOD THERE AND LAUGHED
FOR GOD’S NAIL!
WHAT WERE WRONG WITH THEM?!
WHY DON’T THEY LEAVE MY LADY ALONE?!
MY HANDS ARE SHAKING
WHITE RAGE COURSES THROUGH MY VEINS
PLEASE! BE THERE A CONSEQUENCE TO THEIR ACTIONS
.
OH MY LORD
.
It was just an exclamation, Steve didn’t narrate anything further. She wondered what had happened to him and her. The following pages were missing, he must have torn them apart. She guessed he had been angry. His handwriting was scribbled when he was mad. Now he sounded extremely wrathful. She hastily reached for the next intact page. And the lines blurred with his tears, she supposed, made her hold her breath.
No… no, it was impossible. She was standing right here, she could read, could move, could think. How was it possible-
.
February 14
They laid her casket down six feet under.
My heart was crushed. I didn’t even register the songs, hymns, and prayers they gave her.
I’m clueless. I don’t know what has just happened.
.
March 14
I have felt so lost. She is not here anymore. But I can’t accept the fact that the lady who I have been dedicating my whole life for is gone.
On that day, in the morning, I came to her chamber with the tray of food, but she wasn’t there.
I searched the whole mansion, she was nowhere in sight.
It was downpouring outside, where could she go? I thought.
Suddenly, my blood ran cold as I remembered where she’d usually go when she was sad.
I didn’t know what came to my mind on that day, it was just a hunch.
I dashed to the lake in the torrential rain. I didn’t have time to inform anyone else. The heavy raindrops hit my face hard, but my mind cared little. I prayed for my hunch and my thoughts to be wrong. But they weren’t.
I found her shoes on the lake bank, but I didn't see her. My stomach dropped.
I… she… oh my God…
She was just 20…
In the end, I managed to pull her body out of the water. We were cold. She was frigid.
I lay her down on the grass and tried my best to shield her from the rain with my body.
I cried out her name and shook her body, but she didn't respond. I hadn't realised her serene face and shut-eyes could be so dreadful.
Why has everything had to be this way…?
.
I told master everything. That heartlessness of a man and his leman were what pushed her to death. I wanted justice for her. Isn’t it a criminal offence to encourage someone to kill herself? Which they just did, they even attended her funeral without showing any remorse. Their presence offended her.
I only received a sigh from the master. He shook his head and dismissed my proposal. He told me to get back to my chores. What chores?
I don’t understand. He fathered her.
Why doesn’t he demand justice for her?
Because that bastard of a human is a noble?
Is everyone going to move on and forget about her?
And they want me to do the same? No! I’m not good with that!
I’m going to quit my job. There is no point staying here.
.
September 16
I made a deal with the wicked queen.
My hope landed on her after months of seeking help.
She is the most infamous necromancer in the whole kingdom, only she can help me.
She told me she would give me a place and help bring my lady back, in return, I had to lead her stepdaughter into the forest and kill her.
The queen is vain, she envies the princess’s beauty.
But I don’t care. Even if this is wrong. If committing sins is the only way, I won’t hesitate, I want her back.
.
October 2
GOD! I KILLED THE PRINCESS! I KILLED A PERSON! I LED AN INNOCENT SOUL TO THE FOREST AND KILLED HER
I RIPPED HER HEART OUT OFF HER CHEST AND GAVE IT TO THE QUEEN
MY HANDS WERE SOAKED WITH BLOOD
THE GUILT WOULDN’T GO AWAY NO MATTER HOW MUCH I WASHED MY HANDS
OH GOD…
.
October 6
I need to suppress the guilt. I did what I had to do. I’m doing this for her.
I alone will pay the praise, I want her back, please just let me see her again… I don’t care if I have become a devil’s spawn.
I have important tasks to do. I don’t have time to repent.
If her fate is to die a tragic death, I’ll be against it, against everything, even my morality.
This world wronged us first.
I’ll build her a little world built with affection. All roses and apples will be hers, the weeds around are to nourish her and rot away.
.
October 18
I have dirtied my hands even more, as the queen wishes.
Everything I have done is for her.
No…
It is just for my egocentric self. I want to be with my lady again, I want us to go back to the life we once had, even though we aren’t those innocent children anymore.
.
October 29
I’ve stalked that goddamn monster who broke her heart.
He is still with the prostitute who insulted my lady.
Today is the day.
.
October 30
I. KILLED. THEM.
YESTERDAY.
IN. A. DARK. ALLEY.
I worked them over until they were nothing but a huge pile of carcass meat and blood and bones. That was for her. They deserved it. I didn’t even feel guilty anymore. I took great pleasure in this work.
I will nurture my lady with their hearts and blood.
.
October 31
The queen just told me the time had come.
Today is Samhain. The day when the veil between death and life is at its thinnest.
I’m going to bring her back.
Tonight, I’m going to dig her grave.
.
She was utterly dumbfounded. It was too much for her to register. She used to have a life, one that was different from this life she was having now. The information answered her queries. But it pestered her so much since it still didn’t jog her memory.
He wrote that he’d killed more people for her, to feed her. Most of them were thorns in the queen’s side. He wrote that because of her condition, she was incapable of digesting anything but the apples. Unable to comprehend much about ethics as she was, she still got that it was wrong to murder people. Steve knew this too, he’d anguished over his conflict between his desire and righteousness so many times before he… shrugged the last one off.
Why had he sinned a great sin just to bring a deceased back to earth…? Was it worth the pain?
Perhaps she was lost in his diary and her own thoughts, so lost so she didn’t hear him coming. She got startled as his arms embraced her despite how gentle his touch was.
“You aren’t supposed to find out… you are supposed to live the fullest of your life, no distress or peril,” Steve breathed out a whisper into her ears. He didn’t sound angry at her. Yet all of the sudden, she felt so scared of him, she swallowed hard and tried not to move.
“God… did you know I was on the tiptoe of expectation when I stood aside and watched the queen do her work? I was uncertain if you could really come back to me. But you are here right now. I can’t be more grateful.”