Ficlet // D.Gray-man // east, into the wind
Focus: Rhode, the Earl
Genres: Backstory
Rating: K
Wordcount: 300
Summary: A long time ago, a little girl dreamed of blood.
east, into the wind
She wakes from dreams of death to a man in her room.
His face is very kind, but Carolina is not a silly girl. Her dagger is already in her hand. He is dressed very well, with a dark cloak swirling about his shoulders, but there is an air of wild strangeness to him that makes her heart suddenly thunder in her chest.
Some think her cursed. Some think her blessed, as the wounds tearing their way across her skin are shaped like holy crosses and bleed as Christ's wounds did. Carolina thinks the scars are neither, but rather something far more lovely and strange than they can know.
She has been ill all her life, and hardly looks the sixteen years she is, but there is royal steel in her spine, and so she stands tall and does not step back even though she is very afraid. "I have dreamed of you," she tells him, and presses a hand unconscious to her bandaged forehead.
"Hmm," he says, delighted. "I had hoped you would have. It will make things so much easier. Carolina, little princess, will you come with me? I will show you all the places you have seen in your dreams and no one will tell you to be kind. You will live forever at my side."
The physicians had told her mother, the Contessa, in hushed and sympathic tones that she would not live to see spring again. What has she left to fear?
"On one condition," she says before giving him her hand. "Never call me Carolina again."
There is a little yellow in his eyes, she notices. "You may choose whatever name you like, my dear. You are free now."
"Call me Rhode," she says, and together they leap from the balcony into the night..
XxxxX
A/N: This wants to be longer. I might rewrite it later, after the contest.
Genres: Backstory
Rating: K
Wordcount: 300
Summary: A long time ago, a little girl dreamed of blood.
east, into the wind
She wakes from dreams of death to a man in her room.
His face is very kind, but Carolina is not a silly girl. Her dagger is already in her hand. He is dressed very well, with a dark cloak swirling about his shoulders, but there is an air of wild strangeness to him that makes her heart suddenly thunder in her chest.
Some think her cursed. Some think her blessed, as the wounds tearing their way across her skin are shaped like holy crosses and bleed as Christ's wounds did. Carolina thinks the scars are neither, but rather something far more lovely and strange than they can know.
She has been ill all her life, and hardly looks the sixteen years she is, but there is royal steel in her spine, and so she stands tall and does not step back even though she is very afraid. "I have dreamed of you," she tells him, and presses a hand unconscious to her bandaged forehead.
"Hmm," he says, delighted. "I had hoped you would have. It will make things so much easier. Carolina, little princess, will you come with me? I will show you all the places you have seen in your dreams and no one will tell you to be kind. You will live forever at my side."
The physicians had told her mother, the Contessa, in hushed and sympathic tones that she would not live to see spring again. What has she left to fear?
"On one condition," she says before giving him her hand. "Never call me Carolina again."
There is a little yellow in his eyes, she notices. "You may choose whatever name you like, my dear. You are free now."
"Call me Rhode," she says, and together they leap from the balcony into the night..
XxxxX
A/N: This wants to be longer. I might rewrite it later, after the contest.