Title: Witch and Princess
Rating: T
Genre: Drama/Supernatural
Pairings/Characters: Miku Hatsune, Nana Macne
Warnings: Villain!Miku, character death
Notes: Based on Gumi's "Witch and Princess", and written like how I wrote Alluring Secret. I just found the song recently (I don't think it's all that well known. It looked like it was posted on the author's blog, which may or may not be Korean-based, instead of NND, and I believe the song is in Korean as well, but I could be wrong. Gumi's a little hard for me to understand in the song), but I thought the story had a pretty cool concept and an awesome twist, vague as it was (that might have just been on the subs part though).
The world needs more Villain!Miku. That's pretty much why I made her the villain. And I really, REALLY wanted to write for Nana when I saw she'd been added to the character list (I think having Nana and her family is the only reason I would give up my Dell laptop for a Macbook X3 I swear though, they BETTER make a Mama Macne). I didn't use names in this, so the most character defining you'll get if through physical description. I thought it turned out rather nicely.
I figured it'd be a good time to break from my DellTei a bit. I love writing for it (and I'm glad you guys do too. YOU GUYS MAKE MY LIIIIIFE :'D) and I'll definitely go back and write more for them, but there has to be some variety about. Also, no Len abuse this go round! AREN'T YOU ALL PROUD OF ME? I CAN CONTROL MY URGES TO ABUSE THE SHOTA! -shot-
But while on the note of Len, it seriously took all my willpower not to connect this to the Story of Evil, because I found so many ways that I could and I hated that I did (you'll see what I mean). I have no problem with the Story of Evil or people writing for it, but the problem is that everyone does it, and it just seems the same to me in that it the focus is always on Rin and Len. I understand that, since that's how the official Mothy songs are (save for Daughter of White, of course. Kinda), but there's a lot of back-story to the Story of Evil fans have provided that I personally find very interesting, but for whatever reason that all gets pushed to the side for the one part of the story we all know word for word. The constant repeating really irks me. :/
…basically, I just promised myself I'd never write for the Story of Evil to save us from what I see as a form of Vocaloid conformity, or in layman's terms the Final Fantasy VII of Vocaloid (so I'm not bashing Len this time, sure, but I never said everything else a lot of you love is sacred here. Kolkolkol~ :D). Sorry for the rant.
Summary: If none of this had happened, she would still be innocent and be able to die so.
Rumor has it, in the dark woods, there lives a witch that grants wishes.
It is said that she can grant any wish, make any dream possible, and realize every goal, with her marvelous magic.
And yet, it is said that even though she has the power to do such incredible things, no one has benefited from her.
No one has ever left happy.
Perhaps the witch just liked it that way.
Good and evil - such comforting concepts. But hardly applicable.
Rumor has it, in the dark woods, the princess of a fallen kingdom fled.
She was the third child, the third daughter, the third princess. She was beautiful and barely sixteen when her world crumbled.
She did not know how or why it had happened, but in a flash, all that she had possessed, all that she had loved, was gone.
But she had heard the rumors.
It may have been foolish of her to act on word of mouth alone, but she wanted revenge no matter what the cost.
If you follow the dead, you can't come back.
The witch knew who the princess was. It was only natural she had. Everyone had heard about her undefeatable kingdom's demise.
The girl looked as the witch had heard: she was young and beautiful, with long, soft lime green hair, supple alabaster skin, and enchanting bright green eyes. The beauty of her and her sisters had been said to stun Venus herself.
Though now, the witch supposed, the third princess was the only one left.
"…May I help you, child?"
The princess fell to her knees.
"O, witch of the dark woods, I entreat you. Please… grant my wish."
She was trying not to cry.
"Though I have no gold, or silver, or treasure… I offer you anything of me, if you wish. My hair, my voice, my eyes… even my life, if it must be so."
The witch eyed her from beneath her hooded cloak.
"…And what is it you wish of me, child?"
The princess dug her nails into the dirt.
"Please… please grant me my vengeance."
Pain is like that; you either become sad or you become angry.
Rumor has it that, in the dark woods, the witch and a princess made a contract.
"All magic requires a price, as you know. Even mine. Especially mine, child."
"And I am more than willing to pay that price."
"Are you? Child, give me your hands."
The princess, confused, set her hands before the witch. The witch grasped them with thin, bony hands.
"I am old, child. I can feel that I do not have much time left. I am able to grant the wishes of others, but am unable to sate myself, and old woman who fears Death in whatever form it may take."
An old, dry hand went to the princess' cheek, brushing back a lock of green hair.
"But you, my dear, are young and beautiful, gifts that have long since left me. I would want nothing more than to be as you are now."
"Are you asking…?"
"I am. I will give you your vengeance, in exchange for your beauty and youth. But there may be another price you must pay."
"Another price?"
"I have lived more lives than you will ever see, child. If I were to give you my age in exchange for yours—and I must, if you are to pay this price—I am more than certain that you will die needlessly."
The witch took back her hands. The princess' hands fell into her lap in stunned silence.
"Knowing that you will more than likely die, are you still willing to pay the price?"
"…My family is dead, you know."
The witch nodded.
"I know."
The princess gripped her dress, in grief and anger.
"Mama and Papa, I loved them dearly… my elder sisters, I looked up to them, and my younger sister… she wasn't any older than ten. She had so much to live for."
"Are they your only reason?"
"Of course not. Everything I had is gone. My home, my friends… I am alone now. I am all that's left. There is no place left for me to go but heaven."
"Do you accept my demands then, child?"
The princess looked into the shadow of the witch's face, eyes brimming with determination.
"I accept."
The witch smiled.
She had become angry. It was easy to take his insolence and make him the villain in this story.
Finally the day had come.
For every night leading to this moment, the princess had prayed for just one thing—her vengeance. For grief, anger, fear, and misfortune to fall upon the kingdom that had destroyed everything for her.
Finally that wish would come true.
While the princess felt her body age at a rapid rate, bones growing weaker and sight fading, she could feel the people of that accursed kingdom suffering and dying.
She felt at peace.
I know what I have become. I am not blind.
Finally the day had come.
The witch was no different than a human was; indeed, a human was what she started out as, so it was natural that she would fear Death. The afterlife was something she dared not take a gamble with, and no matter how tiring life was, she did not want to die.
Finally that wish would come true.
The witch's arms grew stronger, her skin regaining its luster, her hair returning to bright teal from dull gray.
She felt at peace.
My delusion, my dream, is so innocently selfish.
"Do you feel well, child?"
The princess, now an old woman on her death bed, ever aging still, smiled.
"Please do not call me child, witch."
"No matter how youthful I may be now, I am still older than you. You are still a child to me, princess."
The princess looked to the witch. She was reborn sixteen, with long teal hair tied into pigtails, magic dancing within her eyes, and a voice as sweet as morning dew.
"You are very beautiful, witch."
The witch smiled.
"All thanks to you, child."
The princess sighed.
"Tell me, witch… is the one that did this to me in pain? Are they living through my hell? Will they die with me?"
"Word travels fast. That kingdom is falling into chaos. Your wish for vengeance was strong."
"I am glad."
"I ask again. Do you feel well, child?"
"Yes. Very relived, witch. But also…"
The princess' eyes began to dull.
"…very tired."
With a careful hand, the witch closed the princess' eyes.
"Then sleep, child. You needn't stay awake any longer."
The princess sighed, then drifted into eternal slumber, smile still on her face.
The decision was yours. Now you have blood on your hands that will never wash off. Yours.
The witch left her cloak to cover the princess' body. She may have feared Death, but she did respect it.
Even so, she couldn't help but smile as she left that cottage, and made her way out of the dark woods, for what she planned to be for the next decade or so of her life. The princess had been a fool, she thought. Her life and her death meant nothing in the grand scheme of political revenge. Royalty was so very easy to manipulate.
That was what she thought when the king of the land the princess had taken vengeance on came to her, asking for power and glory in the defeat of an unbeatable kingdom.
That king clearly did not think of the repercussions of his wish. Never once did it occur to him that his "rival" kingdom would want revenge. But by his own fault, he had said nothing about what to do with the people. The witch had only helped lead the land into ruin. The princess' revenge was the king's own fault.
Ah, but what did this world, and the people and problems in it, matter to the witch? Everything was destined to fail, sooner or later. Yes, even her newfound youth would fade with time, but it would be a long, long time till then.
How many sins are your wings tainted with?
The witch returned to her cottage in the dark woods not but a fortnight later, as swiftly as her feet would take her.
She flung the door open without consequence and dashed to her bedroom. Her cloak lay where she had left it, covering the princess' body.
The witch tore the cloak away. She was greeted by the sight of dust.
The princess had aged away into nothing.
A moment of silence passed.
The witch had known that the body wouldn't have remained, not after how many of her years she had given to the princess.
She knew.
And yet the witch burst into tears and fell to her knees, seized by despair.
"You… you knew, didn't you…"
She fisted the dust in her hands.
"You knew it was I that gave that kingdom power to destroy yours, didn't you? That's why you came to me, isn't that right, princess? So that I may feel your pain? The pain only a fallen princess could feel?"
The witch began to laugh, a maddening laugh, choking on dust and tears.
"You asked me if the one that did this to you suffered. If they entered your hell. If they would die with you. Well, here I am, child! The tragic clown! And I assure you, I am most certainly in your hell."
Hands covered in dust, the witch moved to her long teal locks, clawing and tearing away to her skull.
"Every night I see them. Your family, the people in your kingdom. I can hear their voices, see their memories, feel their pain. I know them all by name and face and the sound of their dying breath. But the one that haunts me the most is yours, princess. You died in peace, knowing this would happen, didn't you? You sly, sly little demoness!"
The witch laughed for a few minutes more, pulling frantically at her hair and her clothes, but slowly her cries of insane mirth dwindled into sobbing. She fell over the bed, pounding her fist into the dust.
"All that goes through my mind, all that I want… is vengeance. Vengeance, vengeance, vengeance! For grief, anger, fear and misfortune to fall upon that despicable kingdom and the child that deceived me! But there is nothing I can do. That kingdom is ruined and you are dead! When? When will it be my turn for revenge? Have I not shown restraint? My patience spans centuries. "
She shuddered, sucking in a gasp.
"…I want to die. But that was part of your plan as well, was it not princess?"
Death was not a spirit of vengeance.
It is the universe catching up with itself.
There is never any escape. Things like this live with you always.