p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3184b4e41222c620654e5a5091d9685a"Chapter 11:/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3184b4e41222c620654e5a5091d9685a"Olaf knew something was wrong. He knew she would be unhappy about the tattoo, but to be completely silent? It was unlike her. She would usually be up in arms screaming at this point. Olaf was very suspicious all of a sudden. Violet of all people. Maybe...maybe she wanted to have the tattoo done. No, not Violet. She had had too many bad experiences with the V.F.D. That was when he took a good look at his little wife. Hives began breaking out all over her face. She began scratching at them before saying in a hoarse voice, "Allergic to peppermints." /p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4c761f170e016836ff84498202b99827"~/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="56e7b4713863ad7244c422f55b39f2b9"When they arrived back home, Olaf was in panic mode. Violet looked like a huge, red dot. He began pacing and racing here and there and everywhere. Finally, Violet settled him down enough to mutter, "Baking Soda bath." Olaf nodded with wide eyes. How could he be so stupid? He ran the water in the master bathroom - his - before getting her towels and adding the baking soda to it. He grabbed her off the couch where she was situated and noticed she had passed out. Well, the only cure was to get her into the bathroom. He had one of two options. Unclothe her and risk scorn later, but have her cured faster, or leave her clothed and face possibly ridicule at being afraid to touch her. He made a split decision to take of her coat and outer dress and that it. She still had a petticoat and chemise on so she was still covered. It was as much as he felt comfortable doing. /p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9b27994f015265a20aa096e813b91093"He rinsed off her arms and face as much as possible. She finally came around and was capable of doing it. So he left her to it and paced outside the door the entire time. She eventually came out smelling even more so like violets than she had before the attack. But as soon as she saw him, a giggle escaped her. "You're so funny about some things Olaf."/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="17e26ea5d6e77c5225822df7ae710ebd""What does that mean?" She walked into the den and plopped onto the couch. Olaf sat right beside her with his arm around her. "You...I'm fairly positive you've seen an indecent woman before and yet you were scared to take of all of my clothes to attend to my hives." She shook her head laughing. "Well, I'm sorry. I didn't want to...make you uncomfortable. I...I've done some things in the past I regret and didn't want to repeat the same mistakes..." Violet's eyes widened. "Have you..." Olaf shook his head. "Of course not. I wasn't raised the best, but I...I haven't acted upon some of the things I've seen others do." His face darkened and his eyes clouded./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e02fb8931a8f31f0ffcc40e1e319ebf3"Violet kissed him on the lips in an attempt to make everything better. "It's okay. And, you know we are married." Olaf kissed her again. "Yes, I know. But you still need to get a tattoo. Now that we've made a scene at the cafe, I'll have to do it here. It's been quite a while, but I can manage..." He began babbling so Violet shut him up with a kiss. This time he leaned into her, wrapping his hands around her waist while she knotted her fingers into his hair. Time stood still. They could still here the clock ticking in the background and the noises from beyond the house. But did they care? No. Because at the moment they didn't want to care. Who cares if Violet had just had an allergic reaction? Olaf had been worried. It was in the past. But now Violet was kissing him. /p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8ea33270cad9a7772d4d258cf8bd0d76""I love you Violet," he murmured when they finally broke away. She froze a little. Was she able to say it back? That was the big question. "Olaf..." He kissed her again. "It's fine, dear. These things take time..." He hugged her and rubbed her back. She buried her face in his chest. This was going to be rough. They held there for who know's how long before Violet finally smiled and said. "Let's get that tattoo done shall we?"/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0bfc9199ccaf0b912fd850dd3cb28c0d"~/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e60c45e51247c8e49375934e5d80f01e""This may hurt..." Olaf gripped her foot with his right hand and tattooed with his left. Her skin was so soft, and yet scarred. She had taken off her stocking for it and was braced and numbed. Finally, he took the ink to her leg. He expected her to squirm or scream. She just sat there with her eyes closed looking perfectly relaxed. Even he'd screamed when he'd gotten his. He finally finished it and she remained in that position. "How did you do that?" Violet was silent at first. Olaf covered her ankle with bandages before carrying her to their bedroom. /p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="699af267662c300b60e57bb7a9c05dea""That's how I imagined death would feel like. But in my heart. Just a pain that was numbed by panic but braced for. And in the hands of someone I care for. That's...that's how I'd always imagined it. The fact that...the fact that I've been hiding for so long being inflicted by pains such as exhaustion, starvation, and an assortment of other bad health aspects means that I wouldn't want any of that, but it would be familiar. The thing about surviving so much for so long is that you become immune. Most people wouldn't suspect that I would be weak, delicate if they didn't know me. Even some who do." Olaf looked away guiltily./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4e17d5c20f0f95fac4554fdf3d8ba131""But I'm honestly not. I'm not as bright as Klaus or as strong as Sunny or as graceful as Beatrice. But I am good at leading. And I've lead all four of us through a lot. A lot. And pain has become a cycle for all of us. It was easier for me to hide. I promised my parents to keep them safe. And if that meant knowing you would die at the hands of a fire, then so be it. I know I'll die in a fiery death. I'm sure you and even Lemony have suspected it. I'll follow in my footsteps. My siblings did after all. I bet Lemony will too. Follow his niece. But now...now I'm not so sure. I used to think that I had to lead my siblings away to the fire as I walked towards it. But...now I don't know exactly. Because now I have someone else that I love that will try and get me out of the fire by sacrificing himself. But I'm too stubborn for that. I'm debating whether or not we'll burn as legacies or escape like legends."/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="117fe634cdf11444129b4e00c7d82a02"Olaf was silent. That was...that was her entire perspective on life just handed to him on a platter. But he was selfish and he asked in a small voice, "Is that...person me?" She nodded and smiled. "Yes, Olaf. I love you." It sounded much different coming out of her mouth than it had from his. He immediately responded, "I love you too." She kissed him but he pulled away. "Well, now that you've given me all of that, I suppose you deserve some knowledge..."/p
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p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ff26ea87f24114579f2c88009b3be24e"Olaf sat the package on the bed. Violet squinted her eyes. "This is from Lemony. He stole it from...Esme. Who had stolen it from your mother at a tea party. It's supposed to contain a few things of importance." Violet nodded and he opened it. "The sugar bowl! That's it..." It was white with a blue pattern on the side. It was quite small and normal-looking. "What could possibly fit in there?" she asked aloud. Olaf shakily opened it and poured its contents out. "Looks like-" he stopped halfway through his sentence. Violet gasped with tears in her eyes. "This...this is from my mother..." Olaf patted her on the back. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have." Violet shook her head. "I...I need to get over it." /p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="88d32469ab3b3d58b9095e1529d9749c"Olaf picked each ingredient up individually. "Can you explain what all of it is for me?" Violet nodded. He picked up the nearest item - a sunflower ribbon. Violet let a few tears roll down her cheeks. "They...my parents...when Sunny was born...they gave her a hair ribbon. I still used mine so they thought she'd like it. It had sunflowers on it for her name...but she hated it. Finally, I gave her my old pink one - which I hated anyway - that she kept in her hair until...until she died I suppose..." She looked down touching the fabric delicately. The next thing was a old leather bookmark. Violet turned away from looking at it. "K-k-klaus's f-first book. He used this bookmark forever. Up until he lost it...the week before the fire."/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="78f6c0e7884b5825ef892a106ebd9c4f"She pushed it away from him. Then he pulled out an envelope the size of a stamp. em style="box-sizing: border-box;"For Lemony/em. "It's got to be folded one hundred times." Olaf gasped at the next item. A dart. The same kind that had killed them previous to the fire. "The dart...the dart that..." Violet sobbed silently. This was quite emotional. Then the grabbed something quite tiny. A little tiny sapphire. "The...the triplets..." She turned away and bit her lip. Then Olaf took another thing to look at. "Is that...horseradish? In a tiny bag?" Violet wiped her eyes. "Is it...is it because it a cure to the Medusoid Mycelium?" Olaf scrunched up his eyebrows. "Yes, but several other things are. Bitter tea, but this is a sugar bowl...And wasabi as you know. The apples your parents created...But why horseradish which is so hard to transport..." They finally saw the last item. "A green match," they said in unison./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0a30e4acce001b3ace2d130d03f077de"~/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fcc99f8d005bd56130e661e0103cf672"The last one needed no explanation. They both slept rough that night with the newfound secrets rushing about in their heads. The best theory the genius Olaf could come up with was that there was horseradish originally. And that everyone who had their hands on it would add to it. But why didn't they remove anything else? And how was any of this powerful? Or dangerous. It made almost no sense. And Violet knew even less. She knew for a fact that her parents had died because of it. But also that they had had it and somehow put something relating to all of their kids in one spot. It was very em style="box-sizing: border-box;"very/em complicated and suspicious. No sense about anything could be made. But eventually the two fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c380c2e75ba06c0ec15ddc0cbad2f710"~/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="76ab9218959ad122a694bf3c8ffb731e"The two of them hopped along on their merry way the next few days. That was when Olaf finally said, "Violet, we've got to go shopping. There's certain things the both of us need from the V.F.D. meeting." So Olaf - with his cane - and Violet - with her bandaged ankle - went off to the market to prepare for the meeting. "So what exactly is the dress code?" Olaf grimaced. "Mine is a pin-striped suit. Yours, however, you're not going to like." Violet scrunched up her eyebrows. "Well, you're not allowed to wear green. No one is. Or red. Red is R's color. Or purple. That's O's color." He hesitated a bit on saying O. "I'm thinking blue because that's the color of the suits the youngsters wear. So a blue dress. Or pink..." he added with a mischievous smile. Violet rolled her eyes before he swept her into a kiss. "You're so immature." He hugged her from behind as she attempted to run from him. He kiss her neck and took in her intoxicating scent./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="59cef73909b287cfab4a9a764724f44c""I love you." "I love you too." It felt almost foreign on Violet's tongue. But she was fairly certain she actually felt that way. But people changed. She hoped that he wouldn't. She would be positively miserable. "Okay, I'm okay with a blue dress. I like blue." Olaf grinned a little to the side of his mouth. "But it has to be a bit more formal that what you're wearing now." Violet looked down to her comfortable, work-worthy black dress. "I think this is fine for a formal occasion. And since when did you start governing my closet?!" She playfully hit him on the shoulder. "Since you started wearing those em style="box-sizing: border-box;"horrendous/em boots." Violet smirked. Her boots were horrendous. They had started as her inventing boots, but they'd been through her entire run from Olaf and stayed on her feet. They were lucky./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="00213f0e23f870712a3cadbedc06b814""Okay, fine. But after this, I'm wearing these boots every day until I day." Olaf shrugged. "It's not my fault if you look like a mess then." Violet rolled her eyes. "Okay Mr. Fashionista." He pretended like he had a scarf on his neck and acted like he was flipping it. "That's my name." Violet found that strange for some reason. She didn't dwell on it though. They eventually made it around the store. Violet found Olaf a pin-striped suit that em style="box-sizing: border-box;"suited/em him quite well. He found he a formal dress. It was much lower cut than anything she'd ever worn before. But it covered her legs and her back, so she couldn't complain. She supposed she still was wearing what a fourteen-year-old would wear. She didn't really care, but the dress was absolutely beautiful./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1e46456140a8732e678d584b7fb7dcdb"~/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="876dd19026a307a2721449c59a22508a"They were walking home side-by-side on the sidewalk. Olaf was happily whistling a tune. Violet found it familiar, but didn't mention it. She liked holding onto his good arm as they walked, swaying their arms filled with bags of purchases. Then that statement came back to find. em style="box-sizing: border-box;"That's my name/em. What name? Harris Harrison? Count Olaf? Captain Sham? Stefano? He had gone by so many names before. What was his actual name. "Olaf, what's your name?" He smiled a little but had a suspicious look in his eye. "It's Olaf, dear." Violet shook her head. "No, you're actual name. I know your first name isn't Count..." Olaf looked down. They were in their lawn. He took a seat on the porch swing. "Violet...it's been so long since I...since I told anyone. I disowned most of my family when I was quite young. Except for my brother." Violet took his hand and waited patiently. "My full name...well it requires a story. Are you willing to listen to my little sob story?" Violet nodded eagerly. Olaf said sadly, "Olaf Octavius...S-s-snicket..."/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3184b4e41222c620654e5a5091d9685a"Olaf knew something was wrong. He knew she would be unhappy about the tattoo, but to be completely silent? It was unlike her. She would usually be up in arms screaming at this point. Olaf was very suspicious all of a sudden. Violet of all people. Maybe...maybe she wanted to have the tattoo done. No, not Violet. She had had too many bad experiences with the V.F.D. That was when he took a good look at his little wife. Hives began breaking out all over her face. She began scratching at them before saying in a hoarse voice, "Allergic to peppermints." /p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4c761f170e016836ff84498202b99827"~/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="56e7b4713863ad7244c422f55b39f2b9"When they arrived back home, Olaf was in panic mode. Violet looked like a huge, red dot. He began pacing and racing here and there and everywhere. Finally, Violet settled him down enough to mutter, "Baking Soda bath." Olaf nodded with wide eyes. How could he be so stupid? He ran the water in the master bathroom - his - before getting her towels and adding the baking soda to it. He grabbed her off the couch where she was situated and noticed she had passed out. Well, the only cure was to get her into the bathroom. He had one of two options. Unclothe her and risk scorn later, but have her cured faster, or leave her clothed and face possibly ridicule at being afraid to touch her. He made a split decision to take of her coat and outer dress and that it. She still had a petticoat and chemise on so she was still covered. It was as much as he felt comfortable doing. /p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9b27994f015265a20aa096e813b91093"He rinsed off her arms and face as much as possible. She finally came around and was capable of doing it. So he left her to it and paced outside the door the entire time. She eventually came out smelling even more so like violets than she had before the attack. But as soon as she saw him, a giggle escaped her. "You're so funny about some things Olaf."/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="17e26ea5d6e77c5225822df7ae710ebd""What does that mean?" She walked into the den and plopped onto the couch. Olaf sat right beside her with his arm around her. "You...I'm fairly positive you've seen an indecent woman before and yet you were scared to take of all of my clothes to attend to my hives." She shook her head laughing. "Well, I'm sorry. I didn't want to...make you uncomfortable. I...I've done some things in the past I regret and didn't want to repeat the same mistakes..." Violet's eyes widened. "Have you..." Olaf shook his head. "Of course not. I wasn't raised the best, but I...I haven't acted upon some of the things I've seen others do." His face darkened and his eyes clouded./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e02fb8931a8f31f0ffcc40e1e319ebf3"Violet kissed him on the lips in an attempt to make everything better. "It's okay. And, you know we are married." Olaf kissed her again. "Yes, I know. But you still need to get a tattoo. Now that we've made a scene at the cafe, I'll have to do it here. It's been quite a while, but I can manage..." He began babbling so Violet shut him up with a kiss. This time he leaned into her, wrapping his hands around her waist while she knotted her fingers into his hair. Time stood still. They could still here the clock ticking in the background and the noises from beyond the house. But did they care? No. Because at the moment they didn't want to care. Who cares if Violet had just had an allergic reaction? Olaf had been worried. It was in the past. But now Violet was kissing him. /p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8ea33270cad9a7772d4d258cf8bd0d76""I love you Violet," he murmured when they finally broke away. She froze a little. Was she able to say it back? That was the big question. "Olaf..." He kissed her again. "It's fine, dear. These things take time..." He hugged her and rubbed her back. She buried her face in his chest. This was going to be rough. They held there for who know's how long before Violet finally smiled and said. "Let's get that tattoo done shall we?"/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0bfc9199ccaf0b912fd850dd3cb28c0d"~/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e60c45e51247c8e49375934e5d80f01e""This may hurt..." Olaf gripped her foot with his right hand and tattooed with his left. Her skin was so soft, and yet scarred. She had taken off her stocking for it and was braced and numbed. Finally, he took the ink to her leg. He expected her to squirm or scream. She just sat there with her eyes closed looking perfectly relaxed. Even he'd screamed when he'd gotten his. He finally finished it and she remained in that position. "How did you do that?" Violet was silent at first. Olaf covered her ankle with bandages before carrying her to their bedroom. /p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="699af267662c300b60e57bb7a9c05dea""That's how I imagined death would feel like. But in my heart. Just a pain that was numbed by panic but braced for. And in the hands of someone I care for. That's...that's how I'd always imagined it. The fact that...the fact that I've been hiding for so long being inflicted by pains such as exhaustion, starvation, and an assortment of other bad health aspects means that I wouldn't want any of that, but it would be familiar. The thing about surviving so much for so long is that you become immune. Most people wouldn't suspect that I would be weak, delicate if they didn't know me. Even some who do." Olaf looked away guiltily./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4e17d5c20f0f95fac4554fdf3d8ba131""But I'm honestly not. I'm not as bright as Klaus or as strong as Sunny or as graceful as Beatrice. But I am good at leading. And I've lead all four of us through a lot. A lot. And pain has become a cycle for all of us. It was easier for me to hide. I promised my parents to keep them safe. And if that meant knowing you would die at the hands of a fire, then so be it. I know I'll die in a fiery death. I'm sure you and even Lemony have suspected it. I'll follow in my footsteps. My siblings did after all. I bet Lemony will too. Follow his niece. But now...now I'm not so sure. I used to think that I had to lead my siblings away to the fire as I walked towards it. But...now I don't know exactly. Because now I have someone else that I love that will try and get me out of the fire by sacrificing himself. But I'm too stubborn for that. I'm debating whether or not we'll burn as legacies or escape like legends."/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="117fe634cdf11444129b4e00c7d82a02"Olaf was silent. That was...that was her entire perspective on life just handed to him on a platter. But he was selfish and he asked in a small voice, "Is that...person me?" She nodded and smiled. "Yes, Olaf. I love you." It sounded much different coming out of her mouth than it had from his. He immediately responded, "I love you too." She kissed him but he pulled away. "Well, now that you've given me all of that, I suppose you deserve some knowledge..."/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a0131a4cbec37cb68dc23a6cdbbddc6b"~/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ff26ea87f24114579f2c88009b3be24e"Olaf sat the package on the bed. Violet squinted her eyes. "This is from Lemony. He stole it from...Esme. Who had stolen it from your mother at a tea party. It's supposed to contain a few things of importance." Violet nodded and he opened it. "The sugar bowl! That's it..." It was white with a blue pattern on the side. It was quite small and normal-looking. "What could possibly fit in there?" she asked aloud. Olaf shakily opened it and poured its contents out. "Looks like-" he stopped halfway through his sentence. Violet gasped with tears in her eyes. "This...this is from my mother..." Olaf patted her on the back. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have." Violet shook her head. "I...I need to get over it." /p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="88d32469ab3b3d58b9095e1529d9749c"Olaf picked each ingredient up individually. "Can you explain what all of it is for me?" Violet nodded. He picked up the nearest item - a sunflower ribbon. Violet let a few tears roll down her cheeks. "They...my parents...when Sunny was born...they gave her a hair ribbon. I still used mine so they thought she'd like it. It had sunflowers on it for her name...but she hated it. Finally, I gave her my old pink one - which I hated anyway - that she kept in her hair until...until she died I suppose..." She looked down touching the fabric delicately. The next thing was a old leather bookmark. Violet turned away from looking at it. "K-k-klaus's f-first book. He used this bookmark forever. Up until he lost it...the week before the fire."/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="78f6c0e7884b5825ef892a106ebd9c4f"She pushed it away from him. Then he pulled out an envelope the size of a stamp. em style="box-sizing: border-box;"For Lemony/em. "It's got to be folded one hundred times." Olaf gasped at the next item. A dart. The same kind that had killed them previous to the fire. "The dart...the dart that..." Violet sobbed silently. This was quite emotional. Then the grabbed something quite tiny. A little tiny sapphire. "The...the triplets..." She turned away and bit her lip. Then Olaf took another thing to look at. "Is that...horseradish? In a tiny bag?" Violet wiped her eyes. "Is it...is it because it a cure to the Medusoid Mycelium?" Olaf scrunched up his eyebrows. "Yes, but several other things are. Bitter tea, but this is a sugar bowl...And wasabi as you know. The apples your parents created...But why horseradish which is so hard to transport..." They finally saw the last item. "A green match," they said in unison./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0a30e4acce001b3ace2d130d03f077de"~/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fcc99f8d005bd56130e661e0103cf672"The last one needed no explanation. They both slept rough that night with the newfound secrets rushing about in their heads. The best theory the genius Olaf could come up with was that there was horseradish originally. And that everyone who had their hands on it would add to it. But why didn't they remove anything else? And how was any of this powerful? Or dangerous. It made almost no sense. And Violet knew even less. She knew for a fact that her parents had died because of it. But also that they had had it and somehow put something relating to all of their kids in one spot. It was very em style="box-sizing: border-box;"very/em complicated and suspicious. No sense about anything could be made. But eventually the two fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c380c2e75ba06c0ec15ddc0cbad2f710"~/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="76ab9218959ad122a694bf3c8ffb731e"The two of them hopped along on their merry way the next few days. That was when Olaf finally said, "Violet, we've got to go shopping. There's certain things the both of us need from the V.F.D. meeting." So Olaf - with his cane - and Violet - with her bandaged ankle - went off to the market to prepare for the meeting. "So what exactly is the dress code?" Olaf grimaced. "Mine is a pin-striped suit. Yours, however, you're not going to like." Violet scrunched up her eyebrows. "Well, you're not allowed to wear green. No one is. Or red. Red is R's color. Or purple. That's O's color." He hesitated a bit on saying O. "I'm thinking blue because that's the color of the suits the youngsters wear. So a blue dress. Or pink..." he added with a mischievous smile. Violet rolled her eyes before he swept her into a kiss. "You're so immature." He hugged her from behind as she attempted to run from him. He kiss her neck and took in her intoxicating scent./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="59cef73909b287cfab4a9a764724f44c""I love you." "I love you too." It felt almost foreign on Violet's tongue. But she was fairly certain she actually felt that way. But people changed. She hoped that he wouldn't. She would be positively miserable. "Okay, I'm okay with a blue dress. I like blue." Olaf grinned a little to the side of his mouth. "But it has to be a bit more formal that what you're wearing now." Violet looked down to her comfortable, work-worthy black dress. "I think this is fine for a formal occasion. And since when did you start governing my closet?!" She playfully hit him on the shoulder. "Since you started wearing those em style="box-sizing: border-box;"horrendous/em boots." Violet smirked. Her boots were horrendous. They had started as her inventing boots, but they'd been through her entire run from Olaf and stayed on her feet. They were lucky./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="00213f0e23f870712a3cadbedc06b814""Okay, fine. But after this, I'm wearing these boots every day until I day." Olaf shrugged. "It's not my fault if you look like a mess then." Violet rolled her eyes. "Okay Mr. Fashionista." He pretended like he had a scarf on his neck and acted like he was flipping it. "That's my name." Violet found that strange for some reason. She didn't dwell on it though. They eventually made it around the store. Violet found Olaf a pin-striped suit that em style="box-sizing: border-box;"suited/em him quite well. He found he a formal dress. It was much lower cut than anything she'd ever worn before. But it covered her legs and her back, so she couldn't complain. She supposed she still was wearing what a fourteen-year-old would wear. She didn't really care, but the dress was absolutely beautiful./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1e46456140a8732e678d584b7fb7dcdb"~/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="876dd19026a307a2721449c59a22508a"They were walking home side-by-side on the sidewalk. Olaf was happily whistling a tune. Violet found it familiar, but didn't mention it. She liked holding onto his good arm as they walked, swaying their arms filled with bags of purchases. Then that statement came back to find. em style="box-sizing: border-box;"That's my name/em. What name? Harris Harrison? Count Olaf? Captain Sham? Stefano? He had gone by so many names before. What was his actual name. "Olaf, what's your name?" He smiled a little but had a suspicious look in his eye. "It's Olaf, dear." Violet shook her head. "No, you're actual name. I know your first name isn't Count..." Olaf looked down. They were in their lawn. He took a seat on the porch swing. "Violet...it's been so long since I...since I told anyone. I disowned most of my family when I was quite young. Except for my brother." Violet took his hand and waited patiently. "My full name...well it requires a story. Are you willing to listen to my little sob story?" Violet nodded eagerly. Olaf said sadly, "Olaf Octavius...S-s-snicket..."/p