This turned out to be much longer than I expected...
It's an AU but i still hope the characters are not too odd.
Also, I was really unsure of how to rate this. I was thinking Teen because I do not think that there is any serious, graphic violence or sexual themes, but it is a bit violent. I personally think that it's cutting it close between Teen and Mature so if you guys thing I should change the rating then please tell me! I would like to avoid having this taken down just because I couldn't distinguish between the two ratings well enough...
Hope you enjoy regardless!
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.
Perhaps, in an alternate reality, they could have been together. She was not always inclined to believe in reincarnation nor the idea that beyond this bleeding planet, there were multiple worlds that promised something better. With her history, she was quite persistent in thinking that the world had nothing much to offer a young, unmarried maiden of her age save comely features and wifely duties. No, she had never believed in those. However, she did believe in him -had always believed in him- and was proud to say that her affection for him would probably transcend space and time. Funny how things had changed…
"And you admit to guilt in the cases against you, Witch Albarn?" The snarl of the jailer echoed about her cell but she could hardly care. This was not the first time he had questioned her and she was no magic child, but she had courage and the determination to protect those precious to her; that was enough.
"I am guilty for what I am guilty for," she affirmed and felt the sting of the whip kiss her bare back as punishment for her words.
"I want no sass from you, Witch," Giriko barked, grabbing a fistful of ash blonde hair and dragging her face up to meet his. "You are guilty and you admit to this."
"I am guilty for many things." She felt the whip again, felt the leather cut into her flesh to leave it's mark there, and steeled her gaze against the man whose own eyes sat blazing with hatred for her. She had been under his 'care' for days and she had forgotten when he had exchanged his fists for the whip in his grasp.
"I take that as your consent," he ground out, spitting at her feet as he released her roughly, her head hitting the stone wall. For a moment, her sight blurred, Giriko's words barely being registered in her brain. "You will be burned at sundown, slut."
Maka would have laughed at the words if she had not been in so much pain already. The throbbing of her back and the bruises that riddled her body could not be ignored, and yet Maka knew more than he did. Giriko was completely unaware that the woman he was fucking was the real witch, and knowing how powerful the witch was only made the irony sweeter. He was so completely under her spell that he had neglected to consider the woman as a witch or part of the murders he was trying to pin on Maka, and since the woman was both, he was in deep.
She had people who would have vouched for her innocence if they had known she was on trial, people that would not have been able to be paid off or scared or bribed. She remembered smiling and enjoying the time they had spent in her childhood and the friendship of those, especially in the recent weeks, that had brought new acquaintances to her door. However, almost all of those friends had gone into hiding after Giriko had begun the witch hunts and would likely be halfway to Death City for protection. Giriko know not of that, though; not when Arachne was his first priority.
Giriko had left her cell, locking it behind him with a grin before striding away with pride. Arachne was the most cunning witch Maka had ever encountered, if her control over Giriko was any indication, and despite this, Maka had underestimated what it would take to kill her. Considering that the witch had drawn three Witch Hunters to her small town should have warned Maka of the danger, but she had thought they'd be fine. She hadn't expected them to be recalled to a different city or expect to fall in love with one either. Maka sat herself up and touched the back of her head and when she pulled it back, the tips were red. She swore quietly and lifted the first layer of her skirt to rip some cloth in hopes to use it to staunch the bleeding. She hadn't really wanted to destroy it, and as her nails tore the layer into strips, she felt her regret bubble up inside of her. This had been a gift from Soul before the Hunters had been recalled for a witch of higher priority; a recall that none of the Hunters had wanted to abide by but had been forced to obey anyway.
And yet, Maka had assured them in all of her optimism that the town would be fine without the Hunters for a few days while they were on the next mission. She remembered getting into a small spat with Soul on whether or not she would be independent and safe enough on her own despite knowing that a witch still lurked in their town. He, out of all of the Hunters, had been the most reluctant to part with her, but she had insisted her confidence in her own safety. She had been horribly wrong, however, seeing as she was going to be burned as a witch that she wasn't. Her promise to be safe had been broken.
Once she had matted up most of the blood, she felt slightly better, however the marks on her back still burned. They had yet to numb like most of her other wounds and she would have treated those marks had she been in a better place however the jails were rarely cleaned, the jailers weren't gentlemen, and there was no privacy in such a vile place.
"I did not think that he would catch you so easily. I had higher hopes."
Maka froze in place and shut her eyes tightly. She knew this voice; she loathed this voice. It was the voice of a woman who had spun the most elaborate web of lies that Maka had ever seen; the voice that had tricked valiant knights and seduced the humblest of priests. A voice that had started fires, planned the murders of innocent people and haunted Maka's nightmares for weeks.
"Leave me alone."
"But why, darling? You are so isolated here, and Giriko told me that you admitted to your crimes; you seemed like such an innocent child."
"I am innocent. And I am no child, although to a witch like you, I suppose I might be." Maka's eyelids rose in time to see the smug look on Arachne's lips disappear and morph into a scowl. She picked up the edges of her lace dress with delicacy, the ebony train slinking behind her as she stepped closer to her prison.
"How dare you speak to a Gorgon in such an insolent manner," she hissed.
"How dare you try to manipulate me into tricking my friends." Maka leaned forwards as well, her red palms clutching tightly to the pale white fabric. It was such a beautiful white and despite being stained in blood and dirt, Maka still felt beautiful in it; she felt more confident in this dress than she had in any other feminine piece of clothing that she owned. It was so smooth beneath her, protecting the soft skin of her legs and stomach from injury, but she would have given it to the witch before her if it meant Arachne's instant demise. "Why did you even think you could?"
"I thought the fire would be enough to launch a confession from your neighbours and I got you instead, babbling on about accidental candles that had fallen. I wanted to get your so-called friends but you put yourself in my way."
"So-called friends?"
"What else would you call them?" Arachne rose to her full height, taking out her fan with a flourish and allowing the tips of it to hide up to her nose. "You housed them for months before they left not three nights ago so you could burn here alone. Is that what friends do?" she asked Maka's gaze lowered. "You should know that they didn't leave you because they could," Arachne drawled. "They left because they realized what a pathetic little witch you are; just like your mother."
"Never speak about my mother," Maka snarled, jerking forth to grab the bars and pull herself to face the black haired she-devil before her. The witch did not flinch but rather watched with her sour expression before exchanging it for one of amusement.
"What would you rather I talk about? Your precious mother left you to live with the blithering man you call a father, and your friends left you the first chance they got. Did you truly expect any different from those money, hungry Hunters? New missions mean new gold, and you were certainly not worth their time here."
"That isn't true."
"Of course it is. Even that cute one- what was his name?- Soul?" Arachne's smile broadened at the visible pain that Soul's name seemed to have. Maka felt her chest clench up and in that moment, she lost some of her fire. "What a pretty man; even if he has no doubt killed some of my sisters, he would definitely be worth a night or two. Not that you would know, Maka." She said the name with so much disdain and bitterness that Maka was surprised the woman's sultry smile had not yet disappeared. "How could he be interested in someone lacking in all ways? Why would he want you, an unmarried wench with nothing to offer? He would want a woman that would actually give him what a man needs, no doubt."
"He is not that shallow."
"Right. Because he has not at all been eyeing the barmaid at that shady place on the edge of town for the last few months." Maka gritted her teeth, remembering all the times she had caught Soul staring at the violet haired lady providing alcohol to men from all walks of life whenever they went to the bar to hunt for witch rumours. She recalled her senseless jealousy at the attention he had devoted to the busty maiden, but the jealousy had quickly disappeared when she had learned of his true occupation and how he believed the woman to be a witch. "And he did not exactly choose to stay here in your boring little town with you."
"Like I said, he didn't do it because he wanted to."
"But he still did it, darling, and that's what stings the most. Such a petulant saviour he would have been had he remained here to see you burn. No doubt he would be glad to be rid of you since you have nothing to warrant his affections. So make your last day count and tell me where they've gone." Maka's gaze returned to hers and she glared at the witch. Arachne was no longer concerned with bothering Maka; she wanted the location of good witches like Kim Dhiel and the others that supported her. It concerned the location of Death City, the safe haven for witches and humans that wished to live in harmony; as equals.
"I do not know."
"You lie," Arachne hissed, her face suddenly so much closer to Maka. Her long dress seemed to stretch out like a spider web, pulling in the darkness while the oil lamps flickered as if frightened of the woman as well. The woman's violet eyes were alight in her anger and Maka did her best t quell the budding of fear in precious slayers to the pink witch and her tag-along crew. Tell me."
"Never."
The witch pulled back, her orbs narrowed into slits as she returned to her full height. "Well then you can burn for your lies. And when I find your pathetic friends, I will torment them for centuries before I put them out of their misery." Maka let out breath once the woman had left the hall, slamming the door behind her in a way that shook the walls and set vibrations through the wrought iron in Maka's hands. She moved away and stumbled to the back of the cell, her legs giving out beneath her as she sank to the ground.
For the first time since her capture, Maka allowed herself to shed tears; she would die at sunset without a proper word of goodbye.
:BURN:
Witch burnings were mandatory to witness. It was the kingdom's way of instilling fear in their people, but in Maka's home town, it was Giriko's way of ensuring that everybody, witches and humans alike, feared his brutality. He was not unsuccessful, seeing as nobody tried to stop him as he secured Maka's bleeding body to the platform. There was a fair amount of hay beneath her feet, crunching and snapping whenever Maka moved her toes. It all scratched at her skin in a raw, uncomfortable way that made her fidget in her new bindings, the rope chaffing her wrists and pressing through the fabric of her dress.
"Stop fidgeting," snarled Giriko, the rope suddenly growing taunt around her. With her ankles, torso and hands bound, she could hardly move, and yet the man insisted that she still had space. It wasn't until he caught an involuntary wince in her features that he ceased the tightening, knotting the rope swifter than anyone she had ever seen. "I've watched so many witches burn, but you're be a treat to watch."
Maka tried her best to glare, but with the state she was in, it just garnered a laugh from him. The people that had gathered to watch her burning were uncomfortable and kept their eyes shifted far from the stake. Some of them were stricken and upset with his treatment but were too fearful to say anything, while some were indifferent to the plight of the woman before them. Giriko stepped away with a pleased grin on his face. His entire countenance seemed to glow, satisfaction at finally being able to burn her clearly evident on his face. Maka had been a thorn in his side ever since she had become fifteen. She had always voiced her opinions, countering him on his decisions to he point where he wanted to through her in jail just for breathing. Maka watched as he hit the ground before her, taking a torch from one of the men nearby, all the while continuing to watch her in a way that made her feel disgusting.
"My good people; in our midst, we have Witch Maka Albarn who stands trial for her crimes. She is charged with the murders of Medusa Gorgon, the sister of Arachne Gorgon, and Joe Buttataki." Her fists clenched at his words, enraged by the lie. Medusa's death had been the work of Kid and Black*Star, two of Soul's witch hunting companions whom had slain the Witch Medusa after the woman killed Joe less than a week before. It had been retribution; her soul had been claimed to restore balance. "She has been put on trial and has been found guilty." Giriko was triumphant in the words and Maka could not blame him entirely. He had been set on breaking Maka down so she would fear him. She supposed that she seemed quite afraid of him considering that he held the torch that would effectively end her in the most painful way she could have imagined. His beady eyes laughed at her from his spot in the dirt, and when Arachne whispered something in his ear, Maka felt her body tense up. What was that witch planning? "Are there any last words, witch?" he asked, lowering the torch in preparation.
"Only that I hope you realize that this is a mistake and that the real witch is Arachne."
The pale woman had the gall to look offended and Giriko's self-satisfied smirk turned into one of rage.
"I hope you burn in hell," he spat, the torch almost touching the straw at the base of Maka's pedestal.
"Only if I get to see you there, you-"
"I don't think so." A blade was suddenly thrust beneath the torch and in a blinding flash of speed and steel, the fire was out of Giriko's gloved hands-
-and in the hands of Soul instead.
Maka breathed his name, her eyes watering at the mere sight of him. It hadn't been long since the Witch Hunters had left but their three day absence had felt like an eternity to her.
"Maka, I thought you told me you could handle yourself. How," he risked a quick smirk in her direction, "uncool." Her felt felt lighter for the moment when red met green and she tried to smile back.
"You give that back," snarled Giriko. Lunging for the torch, however the polished blade of the Hunter's scythe was suddenly pressed against his throat, freezing the man in place.
"Don't you dare," warned Soul, his eyes hardening as he slowly returned his gaze to the jailer before him. "If you even think of hurting her again, I will kill you stand. She is innocent."
"She is no more innocent than you are," said Arachne, her ivory hand grabbing her lover's tunic to jerk him away. "You, a common murderer. You have killed just as she has."
"I only kill witches like you." He clutched his scythe tighter, angling towards the couple instead. "Witches have done evil just as you have."
A whisper rippled through the crowd at his words, and Maka savoured the look of him; tan skin, pale hair and eyes as red as the blood Arachne had been spilling for months. His calloused hands settled comfortably around the shaft of his scythe and though he was indeed menacing, she couldn't help but think that he was still the most handsome man she had ever met.
"How dare you protect a witch." Giriko leaped back from the blade and drew his sword. "Did the little slut bewitch you like she did all your little friends. I pity you."
"She hasn't bewitched anyone because she isn't a witch. She is as pure as they come compared to scum like you." Soul sounded furious, the man before her seething at Giriko's insults. The jailer lunged forward, his sword clashing with the scythe in a way that made the metal scream. The peasant nearby take off instantly, knowing that the fight in their midst would only become worse, and Maka saw some of them scramble back into their homes, hearing the dead bolts slid right into place. They fought back and forth, Soul's irises filled with a rage that she had never seen before, and she was afraid, both for him and of him. "Never call her a slut."
"Why, fucker, because it's true?" Giriko grinned as Soul snarled out a curse word, propelling himself and swinging his weapon all at once. "Mad that she isn't as precious and pure as you thought she was?"
"Shut up!"
Maka moved in her spot at his words, her thoughts on how to escape running at a million miles in her head. Her rope burn wasn't going to fade any time soon, but at this point, she knew she'd have to suffer through it. Soul had brought back her hope of survival and with that fire in her heart, she planned a way to loosen the ropes that bound her arms and legs. He hadn't left her much space at all and it was difficult to move, but it was loosening slowly. She looked around at the people scurrying about the main square and tried to call out to them. A few peeked at her, but none of them dared to aid her, not when they were unsure of the battle's victor. Soul and Giriko were still locked in the dance of death, their blades clashing and meeting each other over and over again, and Maka was still trying to find someone to notice her.
And as her bright eyes scanned the ground before her, she saw the one person who had truly noticed her desperation.
And the damned witch had the torch.
"It's too bad, Maka," Arachne said sweetly, her words drenching Maka in what felt like ice. Despite her distance, Maka could hear every word, as if Arachne's lips were next to her ear. The woman approached her slowly, her violet eyes filled with hatred that rivaled Giriko's as she lowered the torch to touch the edge of the hay, the straw catching fire almost instantly when she allowed the blaze to fester. "If lover boy had not showed up, he probably could have avoided all this mess. I hope your screams haunt his dreams while you burn." She took the torch and threw it at Maka's feet as her smile broke out over her face. "Goodbye."
Maka watched in horror as the flames licked at the hay, filled the area around her with smoke. It plumed around her, and she can feel the heat growing loser to her skin. She struggled more violently and when she screamed Soul's name, he was already halfway towards her, a cry ripped from his throat as his scythe sliced through the witch. It seemed to happen in slow motion for Maka; Arachne's surprised expression intermingling with her disgust. The witch had not seen the attack coming, and as Soul's polished blade tore through fabric, flesh and bone to avenge Maka, Giriko's mouth formed the witch's name as his own way of grieving for his lost lover. The sound of it was so raw that it almost made Maka feel bad for the deranged jailer who ran to his witch and cradled half of her body. Her black blood stained the soil, the loose, black tendrils of her gown beginning to unravel and disintegrate, flaking like ash, and Maka knew that the witch would die. To be cut right through the core like Soul had done with a blessed weapon...no witch stood a chance at healing. Soul didn't bother finishing the witch off, his sights set on the girl burning for the crimes she had never committed.
Maka wished Giriko had let her wear shoes, the thought slipping through her mind as Soul raced towards her; she could feel the fire catching her dress, fraying the edges and darkening the once pure fabric. Wetness slipped down the name of her neck and down her skin, her mouth shut tight to avoid her screaming out in pain while the flames burned her flesh. It was stifling- or perhaps it was just the fire that had slithered up her clothes faster than Soul could run. He was fighting his way through the flames and smoke, a literal uphill battle as he tried to make his way up to her over the burning straw which kept collapsing beneath his feet. She shut her eyes tightly as the flame burned her legs, trying to ignore the scorching pain she was feeling, and when her eyes opened up, she caught the gleam of his scythe making it's way down to cut the ropes. She felt hope bloom even larger than it had before in her heart and as the blade fell, angled towards the ropes that trapped her, her dreams of freedom seemed so close to reality-
-until Soul was dragged back abruptly from her, his weapon falling into the blaze as it's owner was forcibly thrown away from her, Giriko's eyes blazing murderously.
"NO!"
She thrashed in her bindings as Giriko's dirty finger nails dug into Soul's neck, drawing him through the fire before reaching the main ground and proceeding to repeatedly shove the Hunter's whole body into the ground to kill the flames. Giriko's own clothes were burning, but he didn't seem to care. Maka was finding it hard to focus on what was happening besides her own excruciating pain. She couldn't control her own cries of pain as they left her throat and when she tried to focus on the only person she knew that could save her, she found his face pressed into the dirt and dust of the town, his red eyes boring upwards at her burning figure. The jailer brought his lips to Soul's ear and whispered something that made the man laugh outwardly, his wild eyes gazing up to the sky while his captive struggled underneath him, shouting out things that Maka couldn't hear over her own screams.
For Maka, breathing was becoming more difficult, as and smoke swirling about her in a way that forbade fresh air from entering her corrupted lungs. The organs wheezed and struggled to continue to provide for the human they were bonded with, and Maka almost felt crippled by their lack of effectiveness. Her body was slowly shutting down, and though the burning was more intense, she realized there was nothing that she could do. She prayed that she would die so that the pain would simply be negated and she could float in the void forever. She was unable to speak with all the smoke and when coughing became her only way to breath, she cried because she knew death would come soon after. Her eyesight blurred and the wetness on her cheeks hid Soul from view and she nearly swore aloud; she wanted his face to be the last thing she saw before she died.
When the burning in her heart matched the burning of her skin, it seemed that Death had consented to take her, Soul's voice in her ears and the colour of bright blue being the last things she saw.
:BURN:
Many of the townspeople would not be able to agree on what exactly had happened the night Maka Albarn was burned as a witch. Most claimed that a reaper had come to kill the true witch, Arachne Gorgon, as retribution for slaying Maka, an innocent virgin. Others would claim that the white haired man was a devil Maka had conjured up from the depths of hell to kill Arachne as revenge against Giriko for burning her. Others still believed Giriko's claims; that the man with the scythe had been bewitched by Maka to do her bidding.
And despite all the theories that swirled around her burning, they knew only two things for certain: that Arachne had been a witch and that the scythe wielder was bound to Maka Albarn in one way or another.
"They're still talking you know?"
"Well, what did you expect them to do? A witch burning followed by the death of an actual witch is quite rare. The majority of witch burnings are the burning of innocent girls, although I'm sure most priests and folk wouldn't say that. The superstition in these parts are extreme."
"What do they know, though? I've been to the bar almost every night since and they still have the same theories." The man scoffed, adjusting the scarf that sat on his shoulders. "Amateurs."
"They're human, Black*Star. They do what they need to attempt to comprehend what they deem unnatural," said Kid lightly, stoking the fire before them. "They weren't about to let such an event go undiscussed about a mere week after the incident."
"I just thought they'd find something more interesting to gossip about; like me!" he offered, a smile cracking onto his face. He sat next to Kid in the dirt, his pack falling to the ground with a distinct thump, and leaned back against the bag.
"I'm surprised you've managed to keep your head as long as you have. After that night...I was certain you and Soul would have burned the village to the ground."
Black*Star's smile died instantly, his light eyes hardening as he stared at the blaze. "Maka would not have wished for that."
"Indeed. She is too compassionate for her own good." Kid glanced over at the tent set up a few trees from the time. He could see the glow of white magic creeping out from the cracks and Kim Dhiel's silhouette faintly outlined. The glow had been on and off for days, the young witch working tirelessly to heal what was left of Maka's body. Neither Black*Star nor Kid knew how much she had restored. For Kid, who had yet to even glimpse his young friend, it was difficult to picture her.
"We should have known," said Black*Star suddenly, and when Kid's golden eyes fell on his blue haired companion, he saw so much self-loathing. It radiated off of him and as he glared into the fire, the only emotion Kid could detect was anger. "We should have known the call was fake."
"We could not have known. Arachne had duplicated the message so accurately that it could only be expected to have been responded to. We had believed that it had come straight from Death City and all witch notifications are as abrupt as that notification was. We thought she was safe here-"
"Well thinking wasn't really good enough, seeing as she was practically burned to a crisp. If I ever see that fucker again," the man growled and was almost overcome with his own hate for Giriko that Kid put a controlled hand on his arm.
"You will have your chance. I am aware that he escaped when you tore Maka free, but he will no doubt be back for revenge if Soul's right about what happened.
The fire cast strange shadows over Black*Star's face, darkening it in a way that reminded Kid that despite the fact that they all killed witches, it was Black*Star that had slain the most due to his assassin's training. He was reckless but very thorough. They fell into a silence again, their thoughts no doubt on separate courses when Black*Star inquired after Soul. Both allowed themselves a quick look at the second shadow that lurked in the branches surrounding the tent, the only hint of a being was the faint shock of shade that sat against the foliage. Kim had kicked him out so she would have more room to work and there, hovering like a mother a mother over her newborn, was Soul.
Kid's hands fell back to his sides and he allowed himself a shiver as a breeze, drifted out from the tenet. Kim's light magic seemed to be radiating from the tent, the light around her hands often growing brighter than the silhouette of the candle which burned weak in comparison. Despite being a witch, Kim had managed to escape it's nasty stigma by being a wielder of light magic. Her decision to practice such a profound magic earned her safety from other Witch Hunters. Kid remembered the day he and Black*Star had discovered her, a young teen hiding in her room trying to heal a wounded friend. By keeping her secret and promising security, they had gained a valuable ally, even if they didn't fully comprehend her motives for her aid.
The glow from the tent faded suddenly, and the candle light allowed them to see Kim remove her hands from Maka's charred body and reach for the carrier. She slipped out of the smooth fabric of her gown was now flaked with blood that no doubt had once belonged to their friend, and both Hunters rose to their feet in apprehension. The witch shuffled towards them, her lips pulling back to show small teeth as she said, "I have done all I can. She shall make last many a night after this one."
Kid watched as Soul's body rustled the leaves above and, almost as a half thought, had to restrain Black*Star from actually whooping out in cheer.
"Can we see her?" he asked instantly, Kim's head bobbing in its response.
Black*Star shot in before Soul could even attempt to disengage himself from the branches, and silence fell over the three that remained, ears perked to hear a voice they had not truly heard in such a long time; the tones that had cried out in agony when they had arrived to save her; pipes that had grown with tears and shouts as Kim tried to heal her scarred skin. When they heard her, their trained ears catching her exhausted sigh when Black*Star rambled on about killing Giriko and slaying townspeople and her words become soothingly and full of patience for their friend.
"Thank you, Kim."
"It was my pleasure, Kid. Maka has done so much for all of us. She housed us all when the hunts started and defended me when I was first accused of witchcraft that could only have been Medusa's doing. She allowed us a chance at another life in Death City. I am glad to be able to do something so important for her and that you were able to track me down before we had gone all the way to Death City; you know how difficult it is to make the complete travel."
"We are all glad that you responded so quickly and healed Maka. We will never forget your dedication and kindness."
"You are most welcome. I cannot wait to return to Ox and Jacqueline however, so until then, I shall rest. Please excuse me." She walked past him, grabbing her bag and entering the forest, no doubt heading for the pond that would clean the grime and blood from her exhausted skin while Soul and Kid took their respective seats around the fire, patient for their chance to view Maka. Kid could sense Soul's uneasiness across the orange blaze, and he could not fault him for it. Soul had been extremely reluctant to leave Maka when Kim had prepared to heal her, and the witch had been quite insistent on needing copious amounts of space to work her literal and figurative magic.
"Kim is an amazing witch, is she not?" asked Kid, trying his best to lessen the silence and give Black*Star more privacy.
"Yes, she was brilliant. It was good of her to do what she could." The sound of Soul's voice was almost as rare as Maka's and Kid was pleased to hear his friend speak once again.
"Indeed. On the brighter side, at least we will be traveling in even numbers. Soul voiced his confusion and Kid clarified, saying, "Kim will likely be traveling with us, and when we regroup with Jacqueline, Ox and Harvar, we shall become a group of eight and be wonderfully symmetrical."
Kid glowed at the prospect of traveling in eight and launched into a daydream to leave Soul to his thoughts.
On the other hand, Maka was unable to think as much with Black*Star talking to her. His mind jumped topics so fast that she struggled to keep up but she knew she could. The man was just trying to make her feel better after all..
"You never told me what happened on your mission," she tried to comment, her voice low and soft from the screams of previous nights. "You all were not supposed to return until next week."
A dark look overcame his face briefly before he said that it had been a false alarm. His voice was strained, as if his throat struggle to get the words out. She mistook it as something Black*Star was simply uncomfortable with; perhaps they had lost the witch.
"You will get her next time, I am sure of it." Her voice soothed him, the tones layered with reassurances, however he did not seem any more relaxed than he had previously. If anything, his countenance became more stricken than before.
"Maka," he said instead, "you need to promise me something." The seriousness of her playful friend put her on edge, but she did her best to nod despite the burns and scorch marks that lingered on her skin. There were some things that even Kim could not fix. "Never try to take on a witch by yourself." Black*Star's light eyes grew dark. "You almost died and when Soul left the group early to check on you, he almost died too from being so reckless. You have to promise me that you will never try it."
"Why would you think I could do that?"
"Because I know. Giriko is still out there, and I do not doubt that you will ask Soul to train you in some simple maneuvers so you can protect yourself against other dangers, but even so, you cannot do it alone. Fighting and living is done with others, do you understand?"
She blinked twice, trying to internalize the silent words in his speech but it dawned quite slowly on her when she caught bits of Soul and Kid's muffled conversation. It had not been so much as an emphasis on her going solo, it was Soul. Yes, she had almost died, and yes, she knew that she would certainly want training for herself, perhaps even enough to kill witches, but Soul would be needing a partner to battle with so he would not be fighting alone as well. It was well known that only highly experienced Hunters traveled and battled in isolation, but all others had to travel in pairs r more; never on their own. Even though they had traveled as a trio, Kid had his own three person unit, and Black*Star's fighting partner also existed, the woman remaining at Death City for the time being. However, their leaders had chosen Soul, Kid and Black*Star specifically for the mission in the assassination of the witch Medusa. None of them could have guessed that they would find and have to kill a second witch a week after the first.
"Soul took her down on his own," she protested feebly, but even she knew that Soul had been going attempting to go solo and taking on missions by himself. He was danger prone, despite being a brilliant strategist.
"And we almost lost the pair of you. Look, he is not like Justin Law. That man is a beast with a weapon and a child prodigy at that. This is different; Soul is not the same. Are we clear?" She gave verbal affirmation before Black*Star sighed. "I can't believe I have to take care of such foolish followers. I am such a great person." The blue haired man sighed again before winking at Maka. "You hang in there."
"Always will." She smiled back at him and he chuckled, ruffling her hair that had once been so long a beautiful, braided down her back till the tip bumped the small of it when she walked. Now, it just passed her shoulders, the edges a dull colour.
"Kim already cut it for you," he said suddenly as he pulled open the tent coverings and he let a bit of natural moonlight in.
"Tell her thank you." Black*Star left the tent and she did not have to wait long before Kid entered instead of the person she was hoping for. She tried not to look too crestfallen as she welcomed him in, a lingering smile on her lips as he fussed over her light gray gown that Kim had changed her into as well as the way her hair fell.
"I am fine," she laughed when he stared at the edge of her hair with horror.
"I cannot help it, Lady Maka. Your hair was the most beautiful part of my day when she stayed with you." She tried not to make pay too much attention to the title he had given her. It had been given to be polite when they'd first met, something that had separated Kid as the clear gentleman from the others, but he now put it in to show his affection, something that she appreciated in a time when women were not treated so kindly.
"That is sweet, Kid, but I know what you have been trying to do and believe me, I am fine."
He was silent and she took the time to study him just in the way he was trying to secretly study her. He seemed tired and worn, just as Black*Star had, but both hid it differently, Black*Star with his energy and Kid with his worrying. Heaven knew how Soul was coping with her injuries..."Fine, I believe you. You certainly look better."
"Thanks. You guys are amazing for arriving when you did. Any later..." she trailed off. "How has everything been?"
"We worried, but Kim had it under her control.. Soul fretted quite a lot, I'm afraid. I shall send him in?"
"Yes please," she said, letting out a breath of relief. "How could you guess?"
"Guess what?" he asked politely, his golden eyes flashing in their knowing.
"Guess that I wanted to see him?"
"My Lady, you would want to see us all," said Kid, his hand pulling back the corner of the curtain. "But Soul was always your favourite."
She flushed at his words and nodded. Kid flashed her a smile before exiting, the pale flaps of then tent swishing back and forth while she waited. She wondered what he would say when he saw her. No doubt that she was reckless; yes, that would be a Soul-esque thing to say. Perhaps he would talk about how worried he had been, although that did not seem likely. She knew well that she was infatuated with a man who loved isolation and frigid emotion more than anything. Still, she knew there were numerous things she wanted to say to him, more things than she could count. Her time before her burning and in between torture sessions with Giriko had allowed her ample time to regret all the things she had not been able to say, most of which were Soul centered and embarrassing to say aloud. However, she would have to forgo her embarrassment for getting the words off of her chest and into the open. If Soul revealed himself to be vehemently against her affections, then perhaps training to be a Hunter with Kid would be a better option. There was a part of her that had collected small bits of evidence concerning his attitude towards her during their time together that aided her own hopeful, but she could not be sure. Men were complex creatures with less than complex motives. She could have easily misinterpreted his actions.
She briefly pondered on whether or not she appeared decent. She had not had a chance to see herself in the mirror -she had been too busy thanking Kim upon her return to consciousness- but she knew she couldn't look too horrendous. She could still feel numbness in her feet and a tightness all about her skin. There was most assuredly lingering marks on her, since Kim told her not everything could be healed without any scarring, but she worried that it would change the way he looked at her. Black*Star and Kid had been had been unaffected, but her relationship with them was nothing compared to her relationship with Soul. She lifted a hand to her hair weakly, allowing gravity to help comb through the tangles. She felt the shortness of it and, just as the sky haired Hunter had mentioned, it was cut. She would not miss combing it through each morn and night, though it would be easier to maintain this way.
When she heard footfalls grow in volume, she knew he was approaching, and she swiftly pulled back her shoulders to straighten herself and look as presentable as possible. He pulled the tent corner back slowly, taking a hesitant step in and letting the flap fall back without another though.
"Good evening," she said, trying to sound as clear and comfortable as possible. He stared at her, red eyes drinking in her features just as she absorbed his. Without the heat of battle marring his expression, he looked simple and surprised to see her. They stared at one another in silence for what seemed like an eternity and she was able to pick up the subtle shadows beneath his eyes, shadows that appeared darker than usual, along with the perpetual air of exhaustion she was getting from him. "You look awful. Have you been getting enough sleep?"
She berated herself for being so quick to comment. Normally, he would have snapped at her for such words, but instead he continued to stand frozen before her, still a few feet away while the candle light cast darkness across his face. "How are you feeling?" he offered instead.
"Better, thanks to Kim. She told me that I had spent a lot of time under her healing care; days and nights under the scrutiny of light magic."
"Indeed, it is thanks to her and luck that you are alive."
"It is also thanks to you and the other Hunters. If you had not come back when you realized the witch missions was simply a fake one-"
"Kid told me it was a fake once Kim had begun to work on you. I did not know when I left to see you," he clarified, his eyes not once leaving hers.
"You did not?" She frowned, curiousity and confusion taking turns playing with her features. "Why did you return then? You were in the middle of a mission and just leaving to see me seems..."
She saw his nails dig into his palm. "If I had not returned when I did, you could have died."
"Of course, but that is the risk I have had to take. I am a midwife, Soul. I deal with life and risk and death all of the time. And when the inquisition began to blame midwives for witchcraft...death became more of a risk for me but I accepted that.
"But I could have lost you this time, Maka, and one time is all it takes."
Maka was quiet, and the only thing she could get out was: "I am sorry I was unable to keep your dress intact."
The next thing she knew, his tenored laugh was echoing through the tent and she bit her lip. What was so humorous? Did this signal his decision to cease the somber expression had had all but permanently adopted the moment he had entered into her presence?
"I cannot believe that you stared death in the face, and all you want to do now is apologize a piece of fabric."
"Why not? It was a gift that you had given to me and it was destroyed in the fire1! It was so beautiful...and I felt beautiful in it." She looked down once again at the gown Kim had put her in. The dress he had given her was so much more elegant despite its simple design. It had looked so heavenly, as if the angles themselves had spun and woven the fabric, and Maka had never worn anything like it. Midwives did not wear such beautiful clothes for fear of staining them, and Maka had never taken care of her appearance significantly until Soul and his companions had happened upon the village seeking Arachne.
"It would not be terribly difficult to purchase another, you know. I can buy you another just like it."
"Yes, but it would not be the same," she said, her airy voice longing for the cloth that no doubt burned alongside most of her clothing. "Thank you for the offer, though. It is incredibly kind of you but you do not have to."
"I want to," he said instead. "I want to get it for you; that and whatever else you desire. I promise."
She whispered her thanks, blushing at the passion in his words and allowing herself a chance to take a big drink of water. It felt so marvelous going down her throat that she let out a deep breath of satisfaction. "Soul?"
"Yes?"
"You have not come any closer since you entered. Come here." He complied, taking a seat next her cot on the dirt floor. "You will not touch me either. Is there something wrong?"
"You ask me if there is something wrong...Well, the Inquisition is still killing innocents, that damnable jailer has escaped and, last I saw you, you were scarred, bleeding and burning."
"I am sorry," she breathed, his intensity startling her.
"that is exactly the thing Maka. I know you are sorry. The only problem with that is that I know that it is not your fault."
"Soul-"
"This is my fault and I have to deal with the fact that the fucker got away while the woman I cared the most about was burning to death. How am I supposed to live with that? He did so many horrible things to you."
She shuddered at the thought of Giriko and felt the beginnings of fear begin to creep into her soul again. "How much do you know?" she asked hesitantly.
"According to him or according to the marks Kim found on your body?"
"I remember..." she started slowly, "...he said something to you that made you upset, raging...You were on the ground and said things to you. What did he say?"
"He said he had taken your purity; all of it." He spat the words with venom, his fists clenched so tightly that she was certain he would be drawing blood. "And with those whip marks on your skin, I would not have put it past you."
Maka drew her arms around her body, recalling Giriko's greedy hands while she fought the valiant fight; remembered the whipping he had given her after she had refused all his advances and drew blood, her nails tearing into his skin when he tried to force her dress down. She remembered being the winner and loser of the battle; pleased that she had saved herself for Soul but devastated with the physical wounds that had decorated her skin.
"So he did," Soul breathed, his eyes widening. "Maka I-"
"NO!" The loud sound of her voice shocked her and her throat, a coughing fit deciding to take place in her lungs. Soul scrambled for the water flask beside her and lifted it toi her lips with more delicacy than she had ever seen him display. Her shaking hands covered his and as the soothing liquid slipped down her throat, she felt its relief sooth her whole body. She continued to drink with Soul's aid before moving it away from her lips. He placed the flask back on the table, but did not let go of her hands, his concern reflected in his desperate gaze.
"Are you okay?"
"We did not-" she got out roughly, her breathlessness marring the fluidity of her speech. "I wouldn't- I couldn't let him. I fought-"
"Maka, I did not mean to force you to tell me such things. It is not," he said roughly, "any of my business."
"No, I must be able to talk about this. Soul," she had calmed down considerably, the water giving her a fresh burst of energy and courage. "I will not deny that he attempted to force himself but I fought back. The whip marks are partially due to my resistance, that much is true. But torturing me for information on Death City and your whereabouts took priority after that first night."
Soul's eyes glowed with admiration. "Kim told me so much about your condition but I never dared ask her about...you know..."
"It is fine. You are here with me now, It will all be okay." She learned forward and comforted herself in the familiar scent of his clothing and the strength of the arms that had protected her for months. He moved to lean against her pillows beside her, gathering her up so her head sat on his chest.
"I am so sorry," he said again, his voice soft and she clutched a handful of his shirt fabric, savouring the feel of it and the vibrations she felt through his chest against her ear.
"There was nothing you could have done," she said, her words lost in his shirt.
"You do not understand. You were supposed to stay here while we destroyed the extra witch. When we returned, we would have killed Arachne before any harm befell you or any other citizen. You were never meant to face the danger. Ever." His fingers curled around her shoulder. "Once Medusa was gone, i was to take you to that place we first met -you recall it; the garden on the outskirts of the village where you saved my life?- and I was to give you this." A hand moved away from her to withdraw a thin band of gold from his chest pocket. It shone in the candle's glow, casting a spot of light just above them like a star. She let her fingers touch the band's smooth shell and relish the feel of it beneath her tips.
"How-"
"I asked Kilik to forge it for me a week before we got the new assignment. I sent it with Mifune and Angela when we recommended they go to Death City for sanctuary. I got his letter with the ring just yesterday. His messenger hawks are impressive-"
"May I wear it?" Her hesitant voice broke past his words and she looked up at him, wide-eyed and pleading. "Please?"
"You would want to?" Soul seemed genuinely surprised at her eagerness to wear the ring... If anything, she should be surprised he had intended to marry her at all (which she was). Their relationship had morphed and changed since she saved his life in her garden from his injuries, but that was exactly what they had; a relationship. They had been teasing and skirting around one another for weeks until Soul had made any semblance of a move farther than taking her hand and giving her comforting embraces. It was then that she realized there was something more to her friendship; something scary and beautiful that she was excited to explore. She had tried to keep their relationship platonic but she knew her feelings had been far past platonic before she had even had a chance to reign them in. Maka recalled the old daydreams she would get of spending more time with him, living with him, kissing him- But to marry him would have had to be a dream and nothing else because despite the odd affectionate actions she garnered from him, she knew Soul was still a traveling Hunter of isolation. A part of her was certain that his apparent feelings for her would be temporary, and it was that same part that told her that she would savour their time together and deal with its repercussions later. Yet for him to be shocked by her wish to wear the ring and, by extension, be tied to him in wedlock made little sense.
She took the ring from his hands and slipped it onto her finger, the metal sending a cool shot through her veins. "It is beautiful" she said, raising her fingers and watching the candle light bounce off the gold again before looking at him. "So you do love me?"
"You allowed me to to hold you, kiss you, care for you without knowing that I loved you?" He chuckled. "I am surprised. How many other men have you done such with?"
"Only you." She grinned and intertwined their fingers once more. "I thought you would pass through this town and my heart despite my attachments to you and that I would simply fade for you. You are a Witch Hunter, after all. You are in constant battle; I thought that perhaps you would leave and that I should get what I could in your company. Your mannerisms did not exactly lend themselves in wooing me, might I add."
"And yet I still managed." It was supposed to be a statement of confidence, but the lilt at the end revealed his uncertainty.
"And yet you did," she affirmed, raising his hand to her lips and kissing the skin of his knuckles.. "It surprises me, although it must not have surprised you, given that you had made this." She gestured to the ring on her finger.
"I had hoped," he offered, "harder than I ever had on anything that you could care for me as more than a friend and companion."
"Then you will not mind if I accept your proposal and wear this ring until I cease to exist fin this world?"
"I have no qualms with such a thing. It would no doubt make me more happy than any man on this planet."
"Good." She glanced at the ring and tried to angle her head up despite the soreness that permeated each muscle. "I love you."
Then he kissed her, and the familiar feel of it heated her insides warmer than any fire ever could. Fingers slithered out from between hers and skittered up her body to hold her face while her own digits tightened their hold on his clothing to bring him closer. They had had very few kisses; once when they had to pretend they were lovers to throw off Medusa another when she had learned of her father's death; even when Soul's frustrations grew in his idleness. Their kisses were short, be it for comfort or true affection, she did not completely know. She supposed that it was a subtle mix and this kiss was no different, its rising passion not limiting its meaning o her.
"I am so glad that you are safe," he breathed the words against the side of her neck where his lips had relocated themselves. "It will never happen again. I promise."
"I know." She smoothed back his light bangs with a soft smile and pressed her lips there. "I have a good idea on how to ensure that it will never happen again."
"And what would that be, Maka?"
"We become partners."
"Is that not what the ring implies?" he asked after a brief pause.
She said no and he raised his head from her shoulders to examine her countenance, something she did not always appreciate. It meant that he was analyzing her just as he did his missions and strenuous problems. And she did not want analysis. She wanted understanding, which he eventually acquiesced to do. "I want you to train me to be a Hunter."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said I want you to train me to hunt witches so that we may be partners in combat as well as in wedlock." He was speechless, which was good for her since he had no doubt considered the outcome she was offering before. "I know that you have thought about it a few times, and I briefly discussed the matter with Black*Star who agrees that it would be a good idea to have me trained."
"'Star," he grumbled, his red eyes flashing to the tent entrance where both could catch the assassin's enthusiastic conversation with Kid. "So he was the one that brought it up."
"Yes," she allowed, "but I had considered it in the past. The world is a dangerous place and while I was captured, I kept thinking of what you would do in such a situation. I knew that you would fight, but me? I had no training nor experience to protect myself. Now that we are both out and safe, I wish for you to teach me how to protect myself so we may fight together."
"No, I-"
"Soul, I do not want to have to wait at home for a husband and now know whether he is alive or dead. I want to get stronger with you and stay by your side." She batted her eyelashes at him. "Please?"
"Maka," he whined, and she knew right there that she had won. She grinned and placed a chaste kiss on his mouth.
"Thank you, Soul. I shall not disappoint you."
"I know you will now," he sighed, pulling her in and holding her body to his. "I just got out of a dangerous situation. You must understand why U am more than a little against pitting you against another witch so soon."
"I can, but I was in danger because I was alone. If I remain by your side, I know that I will be safe. All Witch Hunters must be in teams, after all , and as far as I can remember, you do not have a partner," she added and tried to hold back her laughter when Soul screwed up his face.
"I lasted quite well without one," he protested weakly.
"And yet your lack of partnership brought your injured body to my garden in the first place and you know that this is so." He grumbled into her hair while she took in a deep breath, a smile on her lips. "And so it is decided. When I am well enough, you shall train me in the art of witch hunting in Death City. You promise?"
"If it will make you happy, then yes, I promise."
"I love you," she said again, her cheeks reddening slightly at her own boldness and the feeling of embarrassment was soon exchanged for one of joy when Soul kissed the top of her head.
"I love you too."
Too OOC? Hopefully it was not. Please R&R!
Thank you for reading!