I do not own Blazblue.
In the interest of full discretion, the chapter only took so long because I screwed up and Murder Media had to help me a lot. So if you enjoy the chapter they deserve just as much thanks as I do. Also, again, if you want quality Ragna x Rachel fics (and don't mind perversion), go check them out.
Rachel tossed and turned under the satin blankets of her plush mattress as she attempted to get some rest, her hair sticking out from all sides of her head because of her constant movement and her sheets tossed at all sides of her bed as a result of her kicking legs. The vampire groaned and flopped inelegantly on her back in frustration, a weary, exasperated sigh passing her full lips as she furrowed her brow and placed the back of her hand on her head. Another dream—the fuzzy, jumbled pieces of so-called "memory" that has been plaguing her thoughts for nearly an entire year now—had successfully jostled her out of her sleep once more. These dreams almost always featured "him"in some way, this tall, imposing figure with no definite face, appearance, or shape. He was merely a distant relic, a blurry silhouette many times larger than her who conversed with her, argued with her, and even fought beside her.
It irked her to know end, the fact that she felt so close and so intimate with this strange man and yet felt so estranged and distant from him. She longed to hear his voice and to see his face in her sleep, to see if they were merely close companions or devoted lovers. She desperately craved for the answers that would be able to help her solve the mystery of the strange man, to tell whether he truly existed or was just a figment of her own overactive imagination.
Truly it wasn't a foolish bluster on her part... Correct?
The lids of Rachel's eyes fell over her garnet orbs when the mere thought of him being a trick of her senses crossed her mind. Lord help her if all this worrying of her's was all for not, and that all of her anxiety was caused by some ambiguous, phantasmagorical figure that existed only in her dreams, but she knew better—she had proof that this man was real. That he was indeed a warrior that once walked this Earth.
That sword.
The same sword that had been mounted into the dirt of that hill for the past eight months or so.
The same sword that she found planted into that dry patch of infertile soil.
The same sword that acted as her only link to him.
She has taken up the habit of visiting that chipped up thing almost every night now, her will and determination restored if only a little whenever she gazed upon its queer design and arbitrary features. Despite her eight months of searching for the man and having nothing to show for it, she would always come back to it just to regain the hope that she will find its owner one day. As long as no one is to tamper with it, whether it'd be someone as insignificant as a thief or someone as annoying as the Yayoi girl, that blade will give her reason to search for him.
"Ugh..." Rachel rubbed her eyes with a balled fist as she tossed her blanket aside. Might as well get up if her body was not going to give her the rest she needed. She stretched out her stiff limbs and looked up at the clock that hung against one of the walls of her rooms and began to read the time.
It was only a quarter past five.
She grimaced as she rose from her position on her mattress to climb out of her bed, her feet setting on the floor while her hand ran through her unkempt locks. This was not the first time she's ever woken up this ridiculously early before, and it always followed the same pattern—she would wake up at some ungodly hour, stay up for about half of the day before falling asleep in some random area of the castle or some absurd location on Earth like a coffee shop or an abandoned forest and eventually wake up by late afternoon. It irked her to no end and drastically messed with her sleep schedule, but she guessed there was no helping it until she either gets over finding this "man" or take some sort of medication to control it.
Rachel sighed a tired sigh as she sauntered towards her armoire, the young woman opening both doors lazily once she was close and proceeding to look for a decent enough outfit to wear for today. She gave the contents of the closet no more than a few quick glances, however—she lacking the energy to sort through each individual dress and blouse that she had in store, and decided to just grab a few clothes at random that were fitting for the season. She then slammed the doors of the armoire shut with a little more force than usual when she got what she wanted, and held whatever she picked out over her body. It was nothing special—just a grey turtleneck, a black skirt and matching leggings that would give her proper protection from the elements outside.
"It's better than nothing, I suppose..." Rachel mumbled to herself as she made her way to the bathroom with clothes in hand. A shower should be able to clear her mind and perhaps ease her stress if nothing else—all this running around combined with her new, less than spectacular sleeping habits was putting a strain on her mental state anyway, so it'd be for the best. She made her way inside the lavatory and closed the door before hanging her clothes on the knob and walking to the large porcelain tub that sat in the middle of the room to turn on the shower. She let the water warm up a tad and tried stripping out of her nightgown, but stopped doing so to peer down at the evening wear.
This particular gown happened to be one of her favorites since it was so comfortable, but it wasn't the least bit modest compared to what she usually wore. It was black, small and complimented her figure quite well—the skin of her breasts exposed from all angles while the frock barely, if at all, covered her large thighs and shapely bottom. Still, aside from it looking particularly good on her, she felt somewhat embarrassed when she wore it sometimes. It wasn't like she hated how her body looked in it or anything, but she felt as though someone outside of the castle has seen her in it before despite how no one, not even Valkenhayn, Nago or Gii, has ever bore witness of it her in it before.
Rachel mulled over the possibility of what soul could have seen her in such attire. It was a silly thought, but she didn't actually leave the castle wearing this thing alone one day...right?
"Preposterous." She suddenly blurted. "This lack of sleep is likely messing with my common sense..." She shook her head of the image of her standing in the middle of nowhere in something so libidinous before shrugging off the straps of the nightgown to take it off.
She stepped into the shower and let the hot water wash over her and sooth her weary body. It was astounding what the toll all of this was beginning to take on her mental state. She had originally planned to venture back out into the world once more to check the sword as well as continue her search, but it was starting to occur to Rachel that might not be the wisest choice she could make given her current condition.
Running ragged like this will never yield any results, Rachel told herself. It would be for the best if she actually stayed in for the morning, if nothing else, to sit down for a change and enjoy a meal for once.
Doing her best to remain positive, Rachel took one last second to savor the heat of the shower before turning off the water to step outside and dry herself off with a hanging towel. Such a process was always made a tad tedious because of her hair, but soon enough she was done and reached out for her clothes to put on. As soon as she is done dressing, she'd look for Valkenhayn to prepare her breakfast for the day so she could hopefully get some proper food in her stomach, and have a more pleasant day than the ones she had weeks prior.
After combing through her hair and freshening up her clothes, Rachel ventured out of her room and headed towards the dining hall, her ears picking up the sound of pans clinking together under a steady stream of running water from the main kitchen along the way. Valkenhayn was exactly where she thought he would be—in the kitchen preparing all the food and supplies he would need to use for the day. He was always so meticulous that way, Rachel thought gratefully, a trait of his that she truly grew to appreciate over the years.
She wandered by the kitchen door with the intent of silently notifying Valkenhayn of her presence, and could feel his eyes on her soon after when she did so.
"Hm?" Valkenhayn peered over his shoulder and raised his brow. "Madame Rachel? Heavens, what are you doing up so early?"
"It's of no big deal, Valkenhayn." Rachel explained. "I was unable to fall asleep so I decided to begin my day earlier than usual. Simple as that." She frowned. "Would you be so kind as to prepare breakfast for me?"
"But of course, Madame. Is there anything in particular that you fancy?"
Rachel thought it over a moment, but shook her head. "No... I will trust your judgement and let you decide." She turned her back to him and proceeded to walk away. "Please have my meal brought up to my study. I have work that needs to be done..."
Valkenhayn stared at his mistress pensively for a moment, but decided against commenting on her behavior out of respect. He's been well aware of her constant obsession with the sword that she had place on that hill in memory of that strange man, so it was best to leave her be than to stir up any stress she was feeling. "As you wish, Madame." He said. "I shall have it upstairs posthaste."
"Thank you..." Rachel finally left the the kitchen to let Valkenhayn work it peace, and set a brisk pace towards her office. Busying herself with a simple, menial task might be just the thing she needed to take her mind off of her latest obsession. Typically matters pertaining to the Alucard clan were never anywhere near the top of her list of priorities—dealing with Terumi and his ilk were always far more pressing after all—but she did believe in part that it would give her something to do once the battle was over. But even if it was because of that sword or not, Rachel still found the work exceedingly dull.
Striding through the door of her office, Rachel made for her desk and sat down before lighting the oil lamp that was left in the corner. She regarded the relatively sizable stack of paperwork that she had neglected for some time now briefly before huffing through her nose and placing her glasses on her nose to begin her work. For nearly half an hour the vampire sat there, writing and signing off documents and reading a few more as she attempted to keep her mind preoccupied, but soon found herself distracted once more by her obsession.
No matter how much she told herself to concentrate, Rachel kept fidgeting with her pen, tapping her foot on the floor and chewing on her lip. She could barely pay attention to what she was reading and could feel her annoyance already form a migraine in her head as well as a hint of sadness settle in her chest. Not visiting the memorial was killing her on the inside, and she felt driven to check on it just to reassure herself that he's somewhere out there in the world, that he existed and that she wasn't actually going insane from dementia.
Her visits were more of an addiction than habitual.
"M-Madame Rachel…?"
Rachel took a shaking breath as she removed her spectacles and placed them on her desk, her brows knitted together and palms moist from the anxiety that churned about in her stomach. She looked at Valkenhayn from the corner of her eye and then at the tray of tea and various slices of bread and seasoned meat that were on the plate. Rachel was so absorbed in thought she didn't even realize that Valkenhayn had entered the study and placed a tray of food next to her. She suddenly rose from her seat at the desk and gave her butler an unnerved look, her mouth ajar and legs quickly leading her out of the room of the study.
"I need to go…" She said sharply. "I apologize, Valkenhayn, but please keep my plate warm until I return. I will not take long…"
Valkenhayn did not even have a chance to question the vampire's request, Rachel's small form quickly rushing past him in a gust of sweet smelling wind before disappearing into black mist, she vanishing completely from the werewolf's sight once the fog settled. Valkenhayn shook his head dishearteningly so as he picked the up the tray that held her food and ushered himself out of the humble little office.
"Please take care of yourself, Mistress..." He said wearily.
Rachel reappeared on the hill that held that confounded sword, her fists clenched and heart beating rapidly. It was the one place where her mind at the very least would focus—the only place where she could feel close to him. Even when she was busying herself with her search, Rachel made a point to return to the memorial she created for him because perhaps just once being in its presence would shake some memories loose. Even though she has yet to have any such luck, she continued to try all the same.
Rachel approached the top of the hill, expecting the familiar sight of the sword to calm her mind, but the view she was met with made her heart drop.
"W-What is the meaning of this?!"
She ran to the top of the hill and fell down to her knees, never minding the dirt that was getting on her clothing. Before her was not the familiar weapon she had visited so many times prior, but a mere hole in the ground where it was meant to be.
"No... It can't be gone..."
Leaping from her spot on the ground, Rachel ran to the edge of the hill and frantically scanned the horizon for any sign of the sword or whoever might have stolen it, but she saw nothing. Thoughts began running through her mind as she desperately tried to make sense of the situation. She was in the middle of nowhere and during all of her visits she never saw any sign of humans in the area. Had some petty thief come through and pilfered the sword, and if so, when? It had only been a mere few days since she last paid a visit.
Not about to be deterred, Rachel took to the sky praying that a bird's eye view would yield better results, yet even from a greater vantage point, as well as giving the surrounding area a thorough once over, Rachel still saw nothing. The panic that set in her heart now developed into full blown fear. Very few things in this world had the power to so much as disrupt Rachel's composure, but the prospect of losing her last connection to the man she held so dear shook her to her very core. And yet…
Was there a chance that it could possibly be him?
Regardless of who took it, they had no right to do so as far as Rachel was concerned. Whoever the culprit was, they stole from her and defaced her cherished companion's grave, and she would not let them get away with such an act. Should it be the mystery man himself, or someone who could possibly offer her a clue, they would be forgiven. However, if it was some petty bandit who thought they got lucky, they would experience her full wrath.
With another quick teleportation, Rachel found herself in one of the many foyers of her manor where she spied Valkenhayn tidying up.
"Valkenhayn..."
"Ah, Madame Rachel, welcome home." The old werewolf greeted. "I will need but a moment to have your breakfast—"
"Never mind that! There are far more dire matters at hand!" Rachel shouted, leaving Valkenhayn rather taken aback. It was a very rare thing for his mistress to raise her voice in such a way. Despite his obvious concern, Rachel carried on unabated. "It's that blasted sword—that same sword that has continued to vex me for months on end. I know not who, nor how, nor why, but someone has stolen it right out from under my nose and I will not stand for it! I want you and those pests I call servants to begin searching for it immediately! I do not care how long it may take, but I need that sword, Valkenhayn! I cannot lose—"
"Madame, please!" Valkenhayn barked out abruptly. The interruption left Rachel completely silent, and allowed her to realize she was completely out of breath. Valkenhayn bowed to the vampire once he saw she had relaxed slightly. "I deeply apologize for raising my voice at you in such a manner, but if I might be so bold as to suggest you might be able to benefit from taking a seat and catching your breath."
"Y-Yes... I think I will." Rachel did her best to retain her composure as she dropped down on the nearest sofa to her.
"Now, if I may make a request of you, milady, could you please repeat what you said in a slow and calm manner? Only once you feel adequately prepared, of course."
Rachel glanced at Valkenhayn and nodded as she took a series of deep breaths.
"Thank you, Valkenhayn," Rachel began. "This is in regards to that sword I've told you about. When I departed not long ago it was to see it once more, but when I arrived it was gone. I combed the area as well as I could, but I was unable to find any sign of the perpetrator. I cannot lose that sword, Valkenhayn. It is the only connection I have left in this world to that man. I…I simply do not know what I would do if it were lost to me."
Valkenhayn listened intently to his mistress' woes as he did his best to process the situation as well. He had never seen Rachel in such distress before and it was alarming to say the least. The thought that monsters like Terumi could never faze her but this sword could was baffling. Though his feelings weren't the issue at hand—Lady Rachel required him in her time of need.
"I swear to you, Madame Rachel, I will not rest until this sword has been returned to your care. Would it be possible for you to describe it to me? Is there perhaps any existing picture of it for me to go by?"
There was no such picture as far as she knew, but her memory was good enough that she'd be able to provide her butler with an alternative.
"Fetch me a pen and paper."
"I beg your pardon, Madame?"
"Fetch me a pen and paper…" Rachel repeated hoarsely.
"R-Right…" Valkenhayn hurried off into some random part of the room to retrieve some writing utensils before coming back to his place by Rachel's side to hand the items over to her. "Will this suffice?"
"Yes…" Rachel took the stationary from his grasp, placed the paper on a nearby coffee table, and brought the pen to its surface. She made light and feathery lines along the paper's surface, her wrist and fingers moving together in delicate synchronicity as she tried piecing together the complex design of the sword in question from her memory onto the scrap of paper in front of her. Valkenhayn looked on curiously at his mistress' sketch, his brow arched inquisitively when the vampire finished her drawing and presented it to him.
"This…" She began. "This is what it looks like."
"And this is a sword you say?".
Rachel nodded curtly. "The design may look rather odd, I know, but I assure you that it is one." She stated. "It is as large as I am tall, with its features red in color. It has also suffered a great deal of battle damage from what I could tell."
Valkenhayn looked the image over several times to assure it was ingrained in his memory before handing it back to Rachel.
"As I stated before, I vow to do everything in my power to see that the sword is returned to you, Madame. The bumbling pair may not be good for much, but I shall recruit Nago and Gii as well for at least they each have a working set of eyes."
"Thank you, Valkenhayn." She stated. "Please do not hesitate to contact me should you find it, and be sure to restrain any persons you find with it in their possession." Rachel commanded. "There is no need to harm them...excessively, at any rate. But I will be needing to speak with them. You may leave..."
"Yes, Madame Rachel." With a final bow, Valkenhayn took off down a corridor and left Rachel alone with her thoughts.
Now alone, Rachel hugged the picture to her chest and glanced out the window of her manor. A strange sort of nostalgia washed over her as she stared up at the full moon that hung over the eternal darkness of the sky, and knew that she could never forgive herself if she ever lost all recollection of this man.
"Please come back to me..." She whispered sullenly.
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