AN: Ok, so. I've actually been working on this for a while, and it's mostly done, so I decided to go ahead and post the first chapter. Because why not, you know? Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this! :D
Disclaimer: I do not own Carmilla.
She was ten when she first walked through that forest alone, having slipped the watchful stare of her nursemaids and guards for the darkness of the woods. The peace and quiet of the grass and trees appealed to her, luxuries she was rarely allowed in the manor she called home, where tutors demanded her every attention and servants bustled about all hours of the day. Even when alone, in her father's library or hiding in her mother's sitting room, Mircalla could hear them all.
Before, it had only been at night, after the last of her nursemaids tucked her in and opened the window for a fresh breeze, when she could see the stars through the sheer cloth that covered the opening, that she had found silence. Silence in which she could sit and think and breathe, a time she began to crave.
Even without the stars, Mircalla reveled in her small victory- even just keeping to the paths, where she would be found in minutes should any of the party come look for her, finally being alone was worth the trouble she would be in later.
"You shouldn't be here."
Mircalla paused, partly annoyed, partly curious, as the voice spoke out. She had thought herself alone- indeed, another quick glance around only confirmed her suspicions. There was nothing besides trees and grass and shrubs and the old dirt road, carved into the earth from generations of her family and their people traveling this very way.
No one who could have spoken, and yet someone had.
"Little one," the voice said again, soft yet clear, as if spoken from a distance, "go home. Home to your maids and your mother, before they worry sick. Or before you become sick with something worse than worry."
"Who are you," Mircalla asked after few moments, pushing aside the rising fear and standing tall, like her father had taught, clenching her hands in her dress to stop the trembling. "I am Countess Mircalla of Karnstein, and my father owns this forest. I can do whatever I want, so who are you to tell me otherwise?"
A laugh was all she got, a laugh and the rustling of some leaves up to her left, high enough on the tree to tower even over her father, the tallest man she had ever met. A tree with no limbs to climb, at least none low enough for someone her size to reach.
So instead she stomped forward and kicked the truck, again and again, uncaring of the scuffs on her new shoes as she waited for her tormentor to fall.
"Please stop," the voice said right beside her ear, startling her back from her target, "and please go home."
"Not until I get a name," little Mircalla said angrily, twirling as she tried to catch sight of the speaker. A little voice in her head whispered her to flee, for something able to move quite so quick without being seen was something she shouldn't be messing with, something no one in the realm of mortals should attempt to tame.
But she was determined and she was stubborn, and so the little logical piece of her mind was pushed to the side to sate her otherwise curious thoughts.
"My father owns this forest, owns this land, so I do too! And I demand you give me your name and show yourself at once," Mircalla repeated, stomping her foot and crossing her arms as she did so. A stubborn child, she flopped down onto the grass below her, ignoring the green stains she could feel seeping into her petticoats as she waited. "Only then will I go home."
"You're a little bit of an annoyance, aren't you," the voice said, closer this time, though once again from behind. Biting her lip to keep herself from turning around, lest the creature (for Mircalla was sure it was one; no such man or beast could flee quite so quickly without making a sound, and this one had done it multiple times. So, creature it was) once again make her a fool should she try to look, she sat there, silently, waiting for it to speak.
"Fine," Mircalla was finally rewarded, the word said softly and almost with regret. "My name is Laura."
"And who is Laura, Laura?" Mircalla asked. "And how do you do what you do?"
"I do what I do," Laura said, louder and much clearer, an actual presence coming into being as Mircalla slowly turned to meet her opponent, "because I am who I am, which is Laura."
Jumping as a finger tapped upon her shoulder, Mircalla turned as quickly as her clothes sitting down would allow, turning to stare at the creature who stood before her.
"You're a fairy!" At first only thought to be a creature of the stories, Mircalla couldn't help but smile widely as the creature before her wrinkled her nose and shook her head, her face scrunched almost into disgust at Mircalla's words. "A beautiful fairy too!"
Despite her being everything Mircalla had ever dreamed about from her books, from the simple gown of leaves to the pair of almost translucent wings protruding from her back, from the way her feet only just brushed against the ground to the gentle, almost non-existent light rolling gently from her skin, Laura once again shook her head, though this time with a blush.
"I'm not a fairy," Laura said, indigent. "I'm a pixie. We're very different creatures. Get us straight, please, and go home. The forest don't belong to anyone, much less your father, so go home and don't come back."
"I will, I will," Mircalla said with her hands thrown up before her, shifting on the ground to get ready to stand. "I promise. But how do I tell the difference, so I do not make that mistake again? Answer that, and I shall go."
Within the span of a blink, Laura disappeared, leaving behind a faint scent of bark and pines before reappearing, still in the same place, only much, much smaller.
"Fairies," Laura said, her voice once again clear but quiet, as if she was not hovering right before her, looking for all the world like a picture of the fire bugs she had seen drawn in one of her tutor's sketchbooks. "Fairies, for one thing, can't get big. But pixies can, so we do." Shifting once more so she was large, Laura settled herself onto the ground across Mircalla, her wings fluttering slightly as she spoke. "Fairies are separate, born into the world to live their lives and die, much like you mortals. Pixies are connected, tied to the earth. I have my own tree, growing just off the edge of the path," Laura said with a hint of pride, her chin lifting. "So long as it exists, so shall I."
"May I see it? Oh please, may I?" Pushing herself to her feet, Mircalla brushed off the dirt and bits of grass she could feel prickling her skin through her dress, holding out her hand to the still seated pixie before her. "You can finish telling me about the differences between fairies and pixies as we walk, and then I promise I shall go home. But only if you show me your tree."
"Like you promised to go home after I talked to you," Laura asked with a small laugh, taking the hand and letting herself be pulled off the ground, her wings flapping just enough to get her toes off the grass. Shaking her head, she shrugged after a moment, her body becoming still so she could land.
Mircalla couldn't help but smile at the fact they were almost the same height, Laura's head actually falling just about her chin. Now that she could take a good look, actually examine the pixie before her, was no longer in awe over the fact pixies actually existed outside of the fairytales her mother had stopped reading her a few years ago, it became clear to Mircalla that Laura was young. Perhaps even younger than herself, the rounded cheeks of a baby and soft features of a child present.
Though, Mircalla reprimanded herself silently, for all she knew, Laura was hundreds of years old, much older than she would ever be. To compare a pixie to a mortal did no one any good, and if the stories were right, she had to take care.
Laura seemed nice enough, at least at the moment, more than willing to humor her desires, but magical creatures were to be dealt with with caution, lest those dealing with them found themselves meeting a terrible fate in the end.
"I'll take you," Laura finally agreed, nodding her head. "I'll take you to see my tree, bring you back to the path, and then you have to go home. Promise?" Holding out her hand, looking up just enough so she could meet Mircalla's gaze, Laura smiled and waited for the girl to respond.
"If I promise to leave and go home," Mircalla said slowly, looking down at the hand waiting between them, "can I come back?"
Laura laughed, reaching out to take Mircalla's hand, intertwining their fingers as she pulled the countess off the path, into the bramble that lined it.
"Your father owns this land, does he not?" Laura asked, the tips of her wings brushing against Mircalla's cheek as she pushed aside the growth to create a path. "If so, then I can't really make you stay away. Though," she continued, pausing for a moment, caressing the vine she was holding for a moment before going on, "you're lucky it's I who found you. Others aren't as nice as I am, and a child in the woods all by herself? It's a humantale in the making."
Mircalla followed quickly after her, part of her praising herself for having gotten out of making the promise, the other part focused on how warm Laura's hand was in hers when she had been expecting…she wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but not something quite so lovely.
Although she wasn't surprised, Mircalla was slightly disappointed when Laura came to a halt besides a small sapling, only a few feet tall, the smile that had been on her face their entire walk turning fond as she reached down to brush her fingers against the green sprigs. When Laura turned back to face her, she forced a look of awe to spread, her mind racing as it tried to come up with something, anything, to meet the expected response Laura was obviously waiting for.
"You're so small!"
Her free hand flew to her mouth as Laura pouted at her, tugging the hand she had been holding Mircalla's with away so she could cross her arms and glare.
"So?" Laura asked. "I'm just a sapling, only a few years old. I might even be younger then you are- I only remember eight summers, but there could have been more I don't remember because I was a seedling. But just you watch! In fifty, sixty years I'll be huge, and in a couple hundred I'll even be as large as Daddy is."
"That's a long time to watch," Mircalla said teasingly. "I don't know if I'll be around that long."
"Then you'll just have to watch for as long as you can," Laura said with a nod, turning back to pet her tree again. "I'll grow up big and strong, and I'll be here for thousands of years. When your own young come into the forest," Laura said with a half-smile, glancing over her shoulder, "I'll be here to welcome them."
"I apologize now," Mircalla said with a straight face, despite the bubble of sadness that had popped into her chest- the idea of Laura outliving her was sad, for some reason. It seemed lonely, being a pixie. "For the trouble my children shall cause you, if they're anything like me. You'll have to explain to them the differences between pixies and fairies all over again."
"And again, and again, with each new generation," Laura said, sighing dramatically. "But I guess there could be a worse fate."
"That there could be."
The two stayed for a long while besides Laura's tree, until the sun began to dim and the maids could be heard yelling for Mircalla, begging for her return. For a moment Mircalla considered keeping quiet, staying there in the forest- Laura had spent part of their walk through the forest pointing out everything edible, imparting knowledge of the plants that grew around them between answering her questions about the other humanoid, winged creatures. She could stay, right there, and watch the tree grow.
But Laura gave her a small, sad smile, and shook her head, as if she knew what she was thinking.
"Walk back along the route we took here," Laura said, reaching out to take Mircalla's hand once again, "and you'll soon be at the path. And come visit me when you can."
Leaning up on the tips of her toes, Laura placed a quick kiss to Mircalla's cheek before she disappeared, her glow fading into the wood as she became one with the tree.
Her hand cupping the tingling skin, Mircalla couldn't help the smile as she made her way back to the path, a smile that, even when the maids were fussing over her, berating her for entering the forest alone, refused to fade.
It took her months to convince her parents she should be allowed in the woods again, that she had been perfectly safe and alone. That there had been no one there to harm her, and she had just been looking for beautiful flowers. That, if she was old enough for her parents to begin searching for a suitable husband for her to marry in ten years, she was old enough to be in the forest alone, at least when it wasn't night.
Bundled up against the cold and snow, the maids were a lot less enthusiastic about their outing this time, though the mulled wine and the hot pies the cook sent with them kept their muttering to a minimum. When Mircalla stood from their blankets and announced she was going for a walk and would be back before nightfall, they had just asked her to stay away from the lake a while down the road, and, if she could, to stick to the path so they could find her.
She left the path the moment she was out of their sight, calling softly for Laura as she tried to pick her way back to where the tree had been. For hours she searched, trying to find her friend.
Mircalla was in tears by the time she finally gave in, accepting that the pixie girl with the warm hands and lips and small sapling had been nothing more than her imagination. Scrubbing her face raw with her mittens to hide that she had been crying, within moments of her returning to the party the basket had been repacked and reloaded into the carriage, the maids and servants glad to be returning to the castle.
A few fussed over her as she sniffled, scared she had caught a cold, but none pushed it further when she tilted her head and glared.