My brain spat this pairing and this story at me today with no warning. I was pretty surprised at how well-formed it ended up being, and so I pounded out the first chapter pretty quickly.
The rating will be M, due to certain themes that I have planned for this fic, and because of the heavy child abuse that Minerva suffered in canon.
This will probably have at least 10 chapters.
I hope you enjoy it.
The cold, wet rot of leaves was slick beneath her palms, and squelched as she moved her hands over the detritus. With dirt encrusted fingertips, she found the root that had tripped her in the dark and pulled herself along its length to the base of the tree it belonged to. She curled up there, drawing her skinned knees to her chest and tried to make herself as small as possible against the rough bark at her back. Hiccupping sobs wracked her slight, undernourished body, the stickiness of tears and snot coating her skin. She tried desperately to quell the shuddering breaths erupting from her, but the harder she struggled to reign them in, the more force they escaped with – in great, wet gasps.
She had to be quiet. She had to. Or the things that lurked in the forest would find her again. They'd found her at the waterfall, dark shapes against the bright moonlight and water spray, and her magic had only just given her enough of a head start against them, but not enough to escape them entirely. Eventually they'd find her again, and then they'd kill and eat her.
Her eyes and ears strained, hoping to catch a glimpse of the beasts that hunted her, or hear the rustle of a bush that would warn her of their attack. The only hope she had was that her magic would last, and she could keep running from them until the daylight returned. Until then, she couldn't afford to let her guard down.
But the forest was a pitch black canvas, and the only thing she could hear was the sound of her own crying.
'Why?' she silently asked the night, shivering beneath the cool canopy. 'Why did Father leave me here? Is it my fault? Because I'm too weak?' She clenched her teeth in a futile attempt to hold back her sobs, which only made them chatter even louder. 'Because I couldn't kill Fingers?'
A breeze rustled the leaves above her, and she whimpered in alarm. 'He said I'm meant to get stronger here. So I won't be weak anymore.'
But all she could see in the darkness was her own demise.
She'd been thrown away. Like Fingers had, when he'd lost to her.
If she were strong she wouldn't have been abandoned in the forest. If she were strong, maybe her Father would have loved her, would have a kind word for her.
To get that, she'd have to face the beasts of the forest, blind and shivering. And come out stronger than them.
The weight of the forest pressed in around her, the darkness clawing at her insides, crawling down her gasping throat. She choked on it, her hands reaching up and grasping the thin fabric of her top, a strangled wail passing her lips, displaced by the wriggling darkness.
Her Father wouldn't come to save her. And she wasn't strong enough to save herself.
Minerva would die there, in that forest.
Alone, and in the dark.
The sudden snap of a branch to her left pulled a scream out of the young girl, her eyes squeezing shut and her arms automatically raising in defense in front of her.
A moment passed, the forest holding its breath as Minerva trembled. When death in the form of claws and fangs didn't immediately descend upon her, she hesitantly opened her eyes, expecting to see nothing but the darkness, or perhaps the glowing eyes of a beast.
Instead, she looked up into the confused, green-eyed stare of a girl her age. A lantern hung from one of the girl's hands, the other hand hanging in the air between them. The light from the slightly swinging lantern sent shadows dancing along the ground, and on the girl's face.
"Hello?" the girl inquired. "Who's there?"
Minerva whimpered when the other girl took a step towards her, kicking her legs out against the dirt and tree roots and leaves to find whatever purchase she could, and scooting backwards, her back pressing harder against the rough tree bark. "Stay away!" she cried, the cold realization that she could retreat no further slithering up her spine.
This wasn't a person. It couldn't be a person. Her Father had told her that only beasts lived in this forest, and he was never wrong. Therefore, this was just another beast, another monster coming to devour her weak self.
The mysterious girl froze, her large eyes blinking owlishly. Her mouth opened, and to Minerva's surprise, it contained no fangs.
"I'm sorry," the girl said. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
This only further confused Minerva. What sort of beast apologized for frightening its prey? What sort of foul trick was this? Was it her fate to be toyed with before her death? To be a monster's amusement in her final moments?
The green-eyed apparition shuffled in place, the movement sending spikes of fear through Minerva's chest. But it came no closer. "Are you alright? Do you need help? I won't hurt you. I promise."
Slowly, Minerva lowered her arms to stare properly at the girl. Now that she looked, she could see that the girl had short, bright pink locks, and wore a cape the color of blood.
No monster Minerva had ever heard of had bright pink hair.
"Can I come closer?" the girl asked, her viridian eyes shining in the lantern's light. "Please… it looks like you're bleeding."
Minerva glanced at her knees, which wept slow streams of crimson where she'd fallen on the forest floor, cut from stones and roots hidden beneath the rotting leaves. Her eyes then flicked back up to meet the other girl's, and she nodded slightly.
Creeping forward a couple of steps, the girl then set the lantern down and kneeled in front of Minerva. She inspected the damage to Minerva's knees, but did not touch her. After a moment, the girl heaved a sigh of relief. "Luckily, it doesn't look very serious. Do you think you can stand?"
Considering the question, Minerva did not break eye contact with the girl. Truth be told, she didn't know how to answer. Her knees didn't hurt so much anymore, but every part of her still shook horribly and even if she could get her limbs to cooperate into getting her standing, she wasn't certain that she could remain so.
Deciding that Minerva wouldn't answer her anytime soon, the girl offered, "I can help you up." Then she held her hand out to the terrified girl.
Minerva stared at the outstretched palm with deep wariness. This was a trick. If she took the hand offered to her, then she would be thrown to the ground again. Her father had taught her this on many an occasion. She had to either stand up on her own, or die on the ground.
That's it, she realized. It was a test. Just another test. This girl had been sent by her Father to test her. He hadn't abandoned her after all!
So she shook her head in violent refusal of the hand. She wouldn't fall for this. She might not be able to stand, but she wouldn't fail this test.
"It's alright," the girl stated, her voice calm. "I promise. My name is Meredy. What's yours?"
"Mi-Min-Minerva," Minerva stuttered out, her voice harsh and her throat sore from her crying, and from running away from the beasts of the forest.
"Minerva. You have a lovely name." Meredy's voice was gentle and quiet. "Tell me, Minerva. Do you have a favorite color?"
The oddity of the question threw Minerva, and it took her a moment to gather herself enough to nod.
"Can you tell me what it is?"
"B-Blue." There seemed no harm in telling her.
Meredy's eyes softened, and a small smile spread across her lips. It was a far cry from the horrible stretch that graced Minerva's father's face, as his enemies were vaporized before him. This wasn't cold, or the least bit frightening. It was… almost warm, somehow.
"Blue is my favorite color, too," Meredy whispered.
Suddenly, a pink glow arose from Meredy's wrist. To Minerva's shock, an answering one appeared on her own wrist. She let out a strangled cry of fright, lifting her other hand to try to claw off the strange light.
"It's alright." Meredy's voice flowed not just to her ears, but through her very body. "You're safe now. No need to feel afraid. I won't hurt you."
Peace flowed through Minerva's veins, washing away the fear that had permeated her. A symbol in pink light formed on her wrist, but instead of frightening her further, Minerva could only feel calm as the light pulsated gently.
With the draining of her adrenaline, Minerva's hands fell to her sides, like a marionette's cut strings. Unwillingly, her eyes closed, and her small body pitched forward.
The last thing Minerva knew was of soft arms surrounding her, and the soothing caress of hands on her back, before the darkness finally consumed her completely.