Warnings: no beta, OOCness, English is not my first language, inconsistent tenses, i am very bad at prepositions, some curse words, mention of alcohol, allusions to sexual situations, CW: suicidal ideation, CW: mentions of necrophilia (just mentions it actually doesn't/didn't happen)
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.
A/N: This fic was inspired by sardine's art (twitter dot com slash kjr0313 slash status slash 1444803002762600448)
i apologise in advance because this is probably not what you wanted or expected from a carla/leon/ada fic, but my skills have limitations 😅 but it doesn't matter to me now. for the past few months writing felt more like a chore than a hobby, but i had fun writing this 😊
also: i usually edit my fics at least three times before posting, but i'm just so. darn. busy. right now. so i've edited this only twice. please let me know of any errors and inconsistencies so i can fix them when i'm less busy.
As soon as Leon got off his horse, he handed his horse's reins to the waiting stable boy and marched towards the council room, his sabatons clanking through the castle's cobblestoned floor. He didn't have time to remove his armour save for his helmet; there was an urgent matter that needed to be attended to, and it was urgent enough that a raven had to be sent to him when he was halfway through his destination—a small village between their kingdom and the Kingdom of Lanshiang.
Return immediately, the coded missive had said. We need your expertise right this instance. Your current mission can wait.
He opened the door to the council room and found several people—knights and advisers—gathered around a table, the king sitting at the centre.
Leon nodded to his king and greeted his friends—his fellow knights Claire and Helena. And then he heard a smarmy voice speak.
"Ah, Sir Leon, finally," the one sitting to the king's right—Derek Simmons—said. He was a knight too, although he was more of an adviser to the king these days rather than an active soldier in the king's army. "I apologise for you calling you back here so suddenly, but you are the only one capable of dealing with this."
He doubted that Simmons was truly apologetic. Ostensibly, Leon's mission was to meet with someone from the Kingdom of Lanshiang to discuss matters about the battle from eight months back. And while he did aim to meet with someone and improve diplomatic relations, his true mission was to obtain what could be evidence of Simmons orchestrating this whole mess in the first place.
Eight months prior, Deborah Harper, Leon's friend Helena Harper's sister, was kidnapped by Simmons. He had aimed to use Deborah as a bargaining chip to make Helena do his bidding—poison the king's food during the feast, and unleash in the castle a new creature capable of emitting toxic gas which could turn everyone into a monster. But Helena couldn't go through it. She confided in Leon, the knight literally closest to her in proximity that night, and told him everything. They came forward to the king and Helena revealed her story, but King Adam didn't believe them, not when Simmons was one of his long-time friends, and not when they had no evidence.
He has never fully trusted Simmons after that. Even now when eight months had passed, Leon still didn't have any substantial evidence that Simmons was behind the outbreak in Tall Oaks, the distant Kingdom of Edonia, and the neighbouring Kingdom of Lanshiang. They still didn't have evidence for all his other crimes, like how he was most likely connected to those more than twelve thousand women missing.
Simmons may have been civil, friendly, and even fatherly towards him despite all the unproven accusations, but it was an open secret that he coveted Leon's wife. There have been rumours of Simmons cursing Leon's name in a drunken rage, or of him going to brothels in search of a woman who resembled Leon's wife.
And who wouldn't want his Ada? She was beautiful, intelligent, and one of the most powerful witches this world had ever seen.
Now she rested in a tomb.
Eight months prior, Leon's wife Ada was mortally wounded in the Battle of Lanshiang, and Simmons, or his associates, set loose those infernal creatures on Lanshiang. They still didn't know why he chose that specific kingdom, but that would remain to be discovered.
Furthermore, Leon and Helena had good reason to believe that Simmons was part of The Family, an ancient and supposedly secret faction that sought to control the kingdom from the shadows. There were also rumours of him funding the Lanshiang-based terrorist group New Umbrella, which Chris Redfield insisted was founded by none other than the deceased Ada Kennedy.
Of course it wasn't Ada. His wife had an impostor, and that was one of the things Leon sought to prove.
Leon was contacted by a spy from the Kingdom of Lanshiang who reportedly had evidence Simmons's crimes. He had a secret laboratory in The Fourth Tower, although, again, there was no evidence that he owned it. Leon's secret mission was to verify this evidence, but Simmons called him back to the kingdom for an "urgent" mission.
It was possible that he was just doing this to divert Leon's attention and delay the discovery of his crimes. Simmons knew that Leon and Helena were on to him, but his friendship with the king and his high position in the kingdom afforded him certain immunities. But Leon was also one of the king's most trusted. He was also one of King Adam's long-time friends. While Simmons was impervious to all Leon's accusations, Leon had the freedom to seek out proof of his crimes.
Leon had already sent word to the Lanshiang spy—I am being called back for urgent matters. Take great care. Simmons and his cronies might know what we're planning. He would come back later, but not until this supposedly pressing matter had been settled.
Leon strode towards the table, and the other people in the council room were quick to shuffle their seats, putting a wide space between him and Chris.
Ah, yes, Sir Chris Redfield. The one who fatally wounded Ada.
Leon maintained a straight face, not sparing Chris any glance. He sat on the empty chair to the king's left, and Chris became nothing but a figure in Leon's peripheral sight.
The chair to Leon's left was occupied by Helena. They first met in that feast where Helena was supposed to poison the king—a feast that ended up becoming the Battle of Tall Oaks. They forged a strong bond when they fought together during that time, and then at the Battle of Lanshiang where she and Leon witnessed Chris slit Ada's throat.
"Well?" said Leon, giving Simmons an unreadable look. "What is this urgent business?"
Simmons handed a parchment to him.
Illustrated on it were creatures Leon and his fellow knights had supposedly vanquished in Tall Oaks, Lanshiang, and Edonia. King Adam's sorcerers, healers, and researchers had already worked on eradicating these creatures out of existence. No one has seen these monsters in eight months, but because Leon knew that Simmons was behind the creation of these creatures, he had good reason to believe that Simmons was still hiding some of them in his laboratories, and possibly selling them in black markets.
"Our scouts have reported sighting these supposed-to-be extinct creatures at the border of our kingdom and Lanshiang," the king said. "We need you to investigate this matter."
"Why me?" he asked, handing the parchment back to Simmons. "I wasn't the only knight who had been there. Lady Helena, Lady Sherry, Sir Piers, and Sir Chris were all there too. Even Jake Muller could be sent, if we could get to him."
"Lady Sherry had already been dispatched to locate that Mr Muller," said King Adam.
"It was I who suggested to the king that you be sent out on this mission," said Simmons in that oily voice before handing him another parchment. "The scouts have also reportedly seen your…old friends."
Leon looked at the parchment.
His "old friends" indeed—the Ganados, humans afflicted by the Las Plagas, ancient parasites discovered in a distant kingdom to the south. He had dealt with these creatures aeons ago, when an enemy of the previous king abducted Princess Ashley, and Leon was tasked to save her.
Since their discovery, the Las Plagas have eventually found their way to the Queendom of Eastern Slav. With the help of King Adam, the number of the Las Plagas had been dramatically reduced, although a few specimens of the creatures most likely still existed in black markets.
"It had been a long time since I was the only one capable of dealing with the Plagas," said Leon. "I do not understand why I got pulled out of my current mission."
"As the Defence Adviser, I saw it fit to send our best knights to other urgent quests," said Simmons. "The other knights have already departed. I can't spare anyone right now. You are the Sun Knight, after all."
Leon snorted at the moniker. He didn't like it, but he tolerated it. He had gotten that nickname when the previous king threw a parade in his honour—much to his chagrin—to thank him for bringing Princess Ashley back. Apparently, people were mesmerised by how his hair gleamed gold under the sunlight.
Later on, when he married his wife who had dark hair and had a penchant for dressing in reds and blacks, people started calling her the "Moon Mage."
The sun and moon. Every kingdom had its own assortment of fairy tales, and Leon and Ada, to some people, were the poster couple for a fairy-tale life.
Ha.
"And what are these urgent missions?" Leon didn't like where this was going, or how Simmons was effectively crippling their cavalry. Sherry was already in search of the mercenary soldier Jake Muller, and the other knights, like Jill, Barry, Sheva….In fact, there were too many who were already gone, and the only other knights in the room besides Leon and Simmons were Helena, Claire, and Chris.
"Small outbreaks have occurred in other parts of the kingdom and some of our allied kingdoms," the king explained. "Lady Claire is headed for Penamstan at first light tomorrow. There are reports of former Defence Adviser Wilson being spotted there."
"Lady Helena will visit Tall Oaks, and Sir Chris is going to Edonia, where Sir Piers is already waiting for him." Simmons said. "And you, Sir Leon, are going to Lanshiang." He shifted in his seat, appearing apologetic and hesitant. He didn't look Leon in the eyes, but Leon saw the barest hint of a smug smile on his lips. "I'm afraid you cannot visit your wife's tomb this week."
Leon fisted his knuckles and felt his nails dig into his palms. He made a trip to his wife's resting place every week, and Leon was not a happy man when he couldn't visit his wife.
Ada rested in an unassuming mausoleum in Raccoon City. The city had been destroyed more than twenty years ago in a massive attack from the undead, and has since then been turned into massive columbarium where urns containing the dead's ashes were placed; they didn't want a graveyard, where the corpses might turn into the undead.
But not Ada. Ada was special. She was one of the most gifted witches in the recent times. They tried to cremate her, but her magic protected her corpse. Even in her death, her remains radiated power. So she was laid to rest in her tomb, her mausoleum isolated from the rest of the columbarium in Raccoon City. Enemies constantly sought her corpse for use or study, so guards were posted all around the perimeter. They used a force field, warding magic, and talismans for added protection. Only two people were allowed to visit her—King Adam, and, of course, her husband Leon.
He had occasionally missed a week or two because of his duties to his king and country, but that didn't mean that Leon didn't become a grumpy bastard afterwards. He would set out on the night of the fifth day of the week, and he would arrive at the mausoleum early morning on the sixth day. He would spend two days and one night there, in that mausoleum that was now his wife's home. She had been in that mausoleum for eight long months, never feeling the sun on her skin.
Leon would do anything to hold her under the midday sun again.
Some called him a romantic. Some called him devoted. Some called him a fool.
Leon called it love.
But if there was anyone in this room who deserved his fury, it was Simmons, not Chris. After all, Simmons was the root cause of it all—Simmons who had never stopped lusting after Ada. If it weren't for him, Leon would still be seeing his wife every day, and not for only two days every week—and even that was not a guarantee.
"If you send me on this mission and I miss this visit," said Leon, crossing his arms, "then I want two uninterrupted weeks of holiday."
Someone snorted. It sounded like Chris.
"Two weeks in that mausoleum? Alone?" said Chris derisively. "Tell me, Sir Leon, how many times have you defiled your wife's rotting corpse?"
Leon gritted his teeth, his hands itching to draw his sword. It was only through masterful self-control that he didn't.
Too far, Redfield, Leon thought.
Claire reprimanded her brother. "That's too far, Chris." Ah, bless Claire. There was a reason why she remained one of Leon's closest friends.
"She wouldn't be a corpse if it weren't for you," Leon snarled. "The only reason why you're still alive is out of my respect for your sister."
"Your wife has been proven to be working against this kingdom," Chris said, unbothered by Leon's anger. "You know that. You knew about all her crimes, yet you still married her. And in case you're forgetting," Chris bared his teeth, his hand twitching as if to reach for his sword, "she killed my entire battalion. She killed Finn, she and her little terrorist group."
"Chris, stop it," Claire said, her voice taking on a edge.
"You and I both know that the woman you saw in Edonia was an impostor—an impostor that Simmons had created." Leon heard Simmons refute his statement, but he ignored it. "This has been discussed a hundred times before. She had been with me the entire time you were in Edonia, and there were multiple witnesses. Yet you refuse to believe me, all because of your irrational hatred for her."
"How can my hatred by irrational when she had been proven to work for the enemy, huh? And these protective charms we always wear," Chris tapped his chest, where a charm hung from his neck, "crafted by the court sorcerer himself—it never gave any warning sign that that woman who killed my men was under a glamour or transformation spell. It was your wife who had been there. Your wife has never been trustworthy, but you choose to remain blind to her crimes."
"And you? Why do you choose remain blind to all the good things she has done, to all the victories she has brought this kingdom? Why do you choose to remain blind even when a sorcerer of your choosing has proven that my wife wasn't enchanting me?"
"She wasn't didn't do all of those for our king and this kingdom; she did those all for you."
Leon was about to reply, but King Adam slapped his hands on the table.
"That's enough!" the king bellowed. "Stop rehashing old arguments!" He looked at Chris and Leon. "You two are among my best knights, and I won't have my own army breaking apart just because you two cannot put personal matters aside."
The king stood up and paced around the council room. Everyone sitting on chairs grew silent, shifting uneasily in their seats.
Finally, the king spoke once again.
"Sir Leon, as Sir Derek has requested, you will be sent to Lanshiang to investigate the sightings of the Plagas and those creatures from eight months ago. He specifically requested you because, as he had said—Sir Derek, why don't you tell Sir Leon what you told me?"
"I have nothing to hide," Simmons told Leon, looking him in the eye. "After this urgent mission, you may continue looking for evidence against me at The Fourth Tower—although of course, you won't find any."
"Yes, because you already destroyed them all," Helena said, rolling her eyes. "My sister didn't die for nothing. We will expose you. You will pay for all your sins."
Simmons shrugged, then shook his head. "Let us put this matter aside and focus on the current situation, shall we?"
Right, focus on the current situation.
Ada had reminded Leon of what he must do before she went into that mausoleum—gather evidence against Simmons, and investigate his Family. She had told him that Simmons would let the dust settle first before making his move, and then Leon could maybe work on a trap to either catch him red-handed, or make him admit his crimes.
Let's wait for the dust to settle first. I'll look into Simmons's research, and you keep an eye on him and his Family, Ada had told him. Gather evidence if you can. If what I've seen in the research notes are correct, the impostor would need several months and more bodies to heal. Simmons will let her come out, I'm sure of it. He wouldn't miss this chance. He will use her against you. And when that time comes, do not give in to her. Do not let her tempt you.
No one would be able tempt me, not even an impostor, Leon had answered, kissing the back of his wife's hands. They had been cold and deathly pale, as were her cheeks. I belong to you and no one else.
Eight months of waiting for the dust settle, and Simmons still hasn't made his move. Leon didn't know how long he could go on like this. Sometimes he wished to just join his wife in her mausoleum and stay there forever, where no one could bother them.
"My lord," said Leon, addressing his king and ignoring Simmons. "Shall I depart at first light?"
The king nodded. "Get some rest for now—and the same goes to you three," he told Helena, Claire, and Chris.
The meeting went on for another half hour when finally, the king declared the meeting adjourned. Leon inwardly sighed in relief; he could finally get out of Simmons's presence. Just being near him made his blood boil.
Everyone was filing out of the room. Leon was idly chatting with Helena and Claire when the king called for his attention.
"Sir Leon?" the king said. "I almost forgot—there is another matter we need to discuss."
Leon bid his friends goodbye, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Simmons looking at him with narrowed eyes, although he made no move to try to learn what the king wanted.
Leon closed the council room and strode towards the king. "Sire?"
"Please, have a seat," the king said, gesturing to the chair to his right—the chair Simmons had been occupying earlier. "I am going to talk to Sir Chris about this later, but I decided to talk to you first."
Leon sat down, his brows narrowing.
"I know you harbour ill will towards Chris—"
Ill will? Chris had stabbed Ada and slit her throat. Of course Leon had ill will towards him.
"—but I cannot let this bad blood between you two persist. I am not asking the both of you to make up, because that, I think, would be impossible….But I am starting to think if I should hold separate council sessions just to prevent you two from pointing your swords at each other."
"He did kill my wife," Leon said.
The king shook his head. "Precisely. Every council meeting we have with the two of you present always results in you two having a heated exchange, and you're both just regurgitating arguments we all have heard before. It has been eight months. This needs to stop. I know you still mourn your wife's loss—we all do—but this feud will cost the kingdom." He clasped Leon's shoulder. "I am not asking this as your king. I am asking this as your friend."
He had known King Adam since after Raccoon. Leon had been a lowly guardsman back then, but after making it out alive of that hellhole, the king—who had been an advisor to the previous king—recruited Leon into being a palace guard, where he eventually rose into knighthood.
Leon sighed. He and Chris still shared the same goal—to prevent more of these monsters from being created, and to slay them should they spread—but Chris, even after everything, had never really let go of his hatred for Ada.
It wasn't Ada who killed Chris's men, and it wasn't she who set loose to the creatures involved in the Battles of Edonia, Tall Oaks, and Lanshiang. It was an impostor who wore Ada's face and spoke using her voice, but Leon couldn't do anything without proof.
He knew what could have happened. When he, Ada, and Helena were in that laboratory at The Fourth Tower, Simmons and his associates hurriedly disposed of the evidence, but they had unknowingly left some behind. Ada had been able to piece together that Simmons and someone else had used an ancient and forbidden spell to create that impostor. It was forbidden because it needed thousands upon thousands of bodies, and even then, there was no guarantee that it would work. It was ancient because it been removed from all magical literature, but apparently, some traces of it still existed.
It was why Chris's and his men's charms didn't warn them about the impostor wearing a glamour or transformation spell, because those spells were temporary, while this forbidden spell was permanent. In a way, the impostor had become Ada Kennedy.
He and Helena were able to connect the missing bodies to Simmons, thanks to Deborah—may the gods rest her soul—but they had no proof. For the past eight months, they have been searching high and low for something that could expose Simmons, but so far, all they were able to find were people possibly connected to The Family. Leon held on to the hope of meeting his wife's impostor, as Ada had predicted, so they could finally have some progress in their case.
"I'm trying, Adam," Leon said. "It's always Chris who starts the fight."
"And you let him get under your skin."
He clenched his fists. "He never had good things to say about my wife when she was still alive. I am not going to let him slander her in her death."
Adam nodded. "I understand. And so I got to thinking…Would you like to be temporarily transferred to Lanshiang? Not only would that prevent your fights, but you could have greater autonomy in your search for evidence against Derek."
Leon narrowed his eyes. "And you're doing this because…"
The king sighed once more before clasping his hands. "Honestly, I don't know what to believe in anymore. Derek is a lifelong friend of mine, but after you and Lady Helena came forward, I saw signs that he might not be who I think he is."
"Tell me about these signs."
"I didn't tell you this because I figured that the fewer who knew, the better, but I tasked Lady Jill and Sir Barry to investigate all the disappearances in the kingdom that goes to more twenty years back." When the king glanced at Leon, he had the look of a man who had just been betrayed. "There are over twelve thousand women who went missing so they've only scratched the surface, but the results are very alarming. In one way or another, Derek was vaguely and distantly related to all those disappearances."
Initially, Leon felt a sense of triumph, but he tamped that down because Adam had possibly just lost who he thought was a good friend.
"And do not say that you're sorry or something," said the king, shaking his head. "Accomplish your mission, and find me proof of whether my friend is secretly the enemy or not."
Leon didn't need to be told twice. He bowed to his king and said, "Yes, my lord."
He went outside and found Chris leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.
"Did I go too far?" he asked.
Leon scoffed, and then eventually shook his head. "It wasn't anything I've never heard before. But you're good, don't worry." Chris may have killed Ada, but he had been—and maybe still was—Leon's friend and comrade. Despite all the animosity, Leon felt a grudging sense of camaraderie with him.
Chris nodded. "Still, I apologise."
"Apologise to my wife. That would make me a lot happier."
Chris looked like he bit into a lemon. "I will. Eventually."
That was as good as it was going to get. "The king wants me to temporarily transfer to Lanshiang."
Chris knitted his brows. "For what? Further investigation?"
"Exactly."
"That would make things a lot easier for us, wouldn't it?"
Leon sighed. "I hope so. Now let's get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us."
Somewhere on his way to Lanshiang, Leon had spotted one of his "old friends," so he followed it. He didn't know if it was a trap or not, but considering that he was currently tied to a chair after an indeterminate time of being unconscious, he decided to go out on a limb and conclude that yes, it was indeed a trap.
But it didn't matter anymore, because there stood in front of him a woman who was the spitting image of his wife.
His instinctively knew that this wasn't Ada, but it also helped that the charm he wore around his neck—carefully and lovingly made by his dearest wife—didn't give him any warning sign, so this could mean only one thing.
Ada's impostor. Simmons finally made his move and let her come out. He had been waiting for this.
He knew that that whole "urgent mission to Lanshiang" was just Simmons's ploy to get him abducted.
The heels of the impostor's boots echoed in a small room made of stone. Her arms were crossed, her hands hidden inside her blue cloak. Leon suspected that she might be hiding a weapon or two on her person. No other human or creature was in the room, although it was highly likely that guards were standing outside the door.
The chair was in the middle of the room. He was stripped of his armour and weapons, and both his arms were tied to each of the arm rests, his legs bound to one leg chair each. The air was musty, and water dripping from somewhere echoed in the small chamber. He was in the basement, perhaps. Torches lined the wall liberally, allowing Leon to see his wife's face smiling at him condescendingly.
Ada never smiled at him like that. She always smiled at Leon as if he was the gods' gift to humanity, when he was anything but. He would sometimes stare at her sleeping face, which—he hoped the gods wouldn't be offended—was infinitely more beautiful than any paradise they have created on earth. He would see her eyes slowly flutter open, and as her vision cleared and focused on him, she would give him the warmest smile and say in her soothing and calming voice, "Good morning, my love."
His heart ached at the memory. He would do anything to have his wife by his side again, but not in this way, not with this impostor wearing his beloved wife's face and speaking in his beloved wife's voice.
"The Sun Knight in the flesh," said the impostor. Leon knew that the impostor would look and sound exactly like his wife, but it was still jarring to be confronted by this…Woman? Creature? "Hello, husband dear,"
His knowledge about this impostor's existence didn't prepare him for this bastardisation of Ada.
"I'm not your husband," he replied. His voice was scratchy—his throat was kind of parched—but at least his limbs didn't feel weak, his vision was clear, and his mind wasn't clouded.
She scoffed. "I'm Ada. Of course you're my husband."
"The real Ada, my wife, is dead."
"Your wife may be dead," said the impostor, her voice lacking the warmth of Ada's voice, "but you can have me. I can be your new wife. After all, I am Ada." She slowly paced in front of him, looking at him with predatory eyes.
Leon would feel his blood rush southwards whenever Ada looked at him like that. But with this impostor giving him the same look, all he could feel was bile rising up his throat.
"Why the fuck would I want you?" he snarled.
"Because," said the impostor as she walked towards him, the swaying of her hips visible even through the thick material of her cloak, "you've been terribly lonely these last eight months, Sir Leon." Stop. Stop speaking in that voice. "And I can please you," she slowly ran a finger from his chest, to his neck, and to his chin, "just as well as your wife had pleased you. In fact, I think I'm better than she ever was."
He shook his head, dislodging the impostor's finger on his chin. "Don't fucking touch me."
The impostor laughed lightly. She traced his jaw with a finger, then used her free hand to hold his face still.
"I'm the real Ada, my love," she crooned.
Leon bit his lip and closed his eyes, feeling hot tears fall down his cheeks. More than anything, he yearned to hold his wife's hand again under the sunlight. He yearned to lay down in the meadows with her once more, and see the setting sun make her eyes shine golden. He yearned to see the summer breeze make the grass and flowers dance, while his wife pulled him up from the blanket by the hand and lead him to their home, saying, Come along, my love. It's going to be dark soon. You can continue lying on our bed after you help me make supper.
"What's the difference?" said the impostor as she caressed Leon's cheek. "I have the same face, the same body, and the same voice. You're gonna love me anyway."
His eyes snapped open. He gritted his teeth and stared into his not-wife's eyes, saying, "You will never be Ada."
Unexpectedly, he felt a slap hit his cheek. It hurt even more because the woman was wearing a ring.
"Ada, Ada, Ada. The Moon Mage. The 'real' Ada. As if I'm not Ada too," she spat, her face contorting into a look of pure disgust and anger. "What is it with men and their fascination for this harlot of a hedge witch?"
Leon winced—the slap stung—but proudly said, "My wife is one of most powerful witches this world has ever seen."
"Was," said the impostor, and then gleefully added, "Your wife is dead, Sir Leon. But don't worry; I can take her place. I can be your new wife," she straddled him, "and we could rule this whole world together. You'll be the king, I will be the queen of this new world."
Leon felt dirty just by letting this woman touch him.
"You want me to rule this world with you?" He managed to smirk. "I thought you wanted to rule it with Simmons."
She smiled at him indulgently. "That eel of a man who calls himself Derek won't know what's coming to him."
Leon raised an eyebrow. Great, he should let this impostor keep talking. "Aren't you two, I don't know, working together? Wasn't he the one who ordered you to abduct me?"
She brushed the hair away from his face, and for one tiny second, it felt like everything was normal. Because Ada would sometimes tie him to a chair and do wicked things to his body, but Leon felt no love for this impostor sitting on his lap.
"He thinks he's ordering me around, but I'm actually the one using him. I will deal with Derek myself," said the impostor. "He'll pay for what he did, especially for what he did to me."
"And what did he do to you?"
"Break my heart, for one. But not you. Oh, no, not you." She brushed his lips with a thumb. "You'll never break my heart, won't you, husband dear?"
She leaned in close, their lips almost touching, but Leon turned his head away, eager to be as distant as possible from this wretched creature.
"I'm not your husband."
The impostor bit her lip in satisfaction. "Tell me, Sir Leon. Shall I come back to your house with you? Shall I pretend to be your dead wife?" She held his jaw in place, then leaned close to his ear, close enough to feel her breath on his skin. She lowered her voice and purred, "Shall I bear you a child?"
He knocked his head against hers, forceful enough to dislodge her from his lap and make her stumble backwards. She stood up and held a hand to her bleeding nose, smirking.
She took a handkerchief from the depths of her cloak and wiped her nose with it. She then then said in a saccharine tone, "Is this how you treat your wife?"
"You're not my wife, you vile creature." He struggled against his restraints, eager to put an end to this whole farce.
She pouted. "But I'm Ada."
"Don't you dare speak my wife's name with your wretched tongue." Leon was suddenly glad for his restraints. Who knew what he would have done to this impostor if he hadn't been bound.
She pocketed her handkerchief. "Do you know that a lot of people think that you fuck your wife's corpse?" She produced a dagger from her cloak and used it to rip one of the buttons on Leon's shirt. "If you let me come with you, you could stop sticking your cock in that maggot-infested flesh." She ripped another button, enough to expose a bit of Leon's chest and the pendants that hung from his necklace—a key and the charm Ada made for him. "This the key to your wife's mausoleum?"
She reached for the key and immediately retracted her hand, making Leon chuckle.
"Sorry, but only I can touch that key," said Leon. "My wife enchanted it before she died."
The key was cool against his skin but fire-hot to anyone who wasn't Leon. No one would be able to touch it except he.
The imposter ran the tip of her dagger across his chest, not dee enough to draw blood, but enough to make it hurt. She said, "Some even say that your wife's body hasn't decomposed at all, given her purportedly immense magical powers." She snorted and ripped another button. "And some theorise that she's not actually dead because, again, of her 'immense magical powers.'" She ripped the remaining buttons off his shirt, then used her dagger to tip Leon's chin upwards and force him to look into her eyes. "Your wife was a hack. If she was so powerful, then how come she's dead?"
Leon laughed. "My wife is dead, yet her powers still threaten you. Are you that jealous and insecure?"
She slapped him once more, feeling the sting of the ring on her finger. He briefly caught a glimpse of it, and when she saw Leon staring at it, she smirked.
"Looks familiar, doesn't it?" She showed him the ring, and Leon scowled.
On the impostor's hand was an identical ring to Ada's wedding ring. It wasn't an exact replica, but it was recognisable enough to Leon.
He scowled. "What gave you the right to wear that?"
She tilted her head as if in confusion. "Why wouldn't I? I'm your wife. Now we have matching rings." She traced Leon's wedding ring with a finger and a sickening smile, but Leon shook her hand away—as least as much as his restraints allowed him.
"You're not Ada," Leon said with as much vehemence as he could.
That earned him another slap from the impostor, this one harder than the others.
She grabbed him by his shirt and screamed at his face. "I'm the real Ada, and you will love me!"
He just chuckled. "The real Ada would never lose her cool like that."
Another slap, this one strong enough that Leon felt blood trickle down his cheek. It was nothing a but a shallow flesh wound so he didn't worry too much about it.
"I'm the real Ada. I'm the real Ada." She looked at him with wide and unfocused eyes. "I'm the real Ada!"
She winced, pressing a palm to her forehead, before sinking onto the floor. She continued muttering and making pained expressions, and at one point, she was vomiting some sort of thick white substance.
Leon was morbidly curious, but he let her be. He needed to get out of his restraints while his captor was distracted.
He tried to tug his arms out of the ropes binding him, but to no avail. He tried his legs next, but he couldn't break them free. He leaned down and tried to bite the ropes off his arm, but he couldn't reach them.
And there on the ground he saw the dagger that the impostor had dropped, but it was out of reach. So he moved towards the dagger, inch by agonising inch, practically hopping towards it while still tied to the heavy chair. Finally, he was near enough to reach it so he leaned to the side, using his weight to tip him sideways until he toppled to the floor, bound limbs and chair and all. He reached for the dagger but found that he was a few centimetres short, so he inched forwards.
He was finally able to grasp it in his hand. Thankfully, the impostor was still having a…crisis, or whatever was happening to her, to notice him.
He slid the dagger's thin blade under the ropes, slicing through them, until he freed right his arm. He held the dagger in his right hand and freed his left arm with much ease, before moving on to his legs.
He had just untied his left leg when the impostor got up from the ground.
"I'm the real Ada, right?" she said, looking at him with a tear-stained face and unsure expression.
For one brief moment, Leon pitied her, but when he remembered the crimes she had committed, Leon lost whatever modicum of pity he had for her.
"No, you're not. You're just an impostor," he said. His joints creaked as he stood up, and he surreptitiously tried to hide the dagger in his sleeve.
She rolled her eyes and wiped her mouth with her cloak. "Please, Sir Leon. I know you have my dagger. I let you have it." She smiled. "It was quite fun watching you struggle from the corner of my eye."
He wielded the dagger and took on a stance. "So you were just acting?"
She gave him a cryptic smile. She circled him, so Leon did the same.
Leon wanted to lunge forward and stick this dagger into the impostor's chest, but Ada had told him not to kill this woman. They must know what she knew, and she could be instrumental in forcing Simmons to show his true colours.
"Why did you let me break free, then?"
"Because I'm Ada, and I would never let my husband suffer." She stopped circling him. She undid the clasp in her cloak, letting it fall to the ground and revealing her silken red dress underneath. She strode towards him, saying, "Take me home?"
Really, the nerve of this woman. First, she wore a ring identical to his wife's wedding ring, and now she wore a red dress. It was almost like this impostor believed that she really was Ada.
Leon brandished the dagger. "What's your name? And don't you dare say that it's 'Ada.'"
She stopped a few inches away from him, close enough to Leon and the dagger he still wielded. "You already know my name, husband dear."
She reached for his face, but Leon swung the dagger, careful not let her skin touch any part of him.
"How did Simmons create you?" he asked.
She snorted. "Derek isn't smart enough to create me. I created myself. All he gave me were time and resources, but that brain power?" She placed a hand to her chest. "That was all me."
"So you're a witch? A healer? A researcher?"
She remained silent. Asking her direct questions didn't work, but if he said something related to Simmons, she would probably answer him. Whatever happened to those two was, Leon theorised, almost as bad as what happened to him and Chris.
"Do you know how many times Simmons has tried to visit my wife's tomb?" He stepped forward and the impostor took a step back, not wanting to be hurt by the dagger. He scowled. "He never really did stop wanting my wife. Even when she's dead, he still wanted her. But Ada warned me." Another step forward for him, and another step backward for her. "She told me to never let him see her, because she was afraid of what he might do to her—to her corpse." Another step. "And not even death would stop me from protecting my wife from that bastard." Another step, and he decided to take a risk. "Does Simmons love you as much as I love my wife?"
Because if Simmons was involved in the creation of this impostor, for what purpose would it be but to have his own twisted version of Ada? This was something that they have theorised during the past few months—that Simmons was desperate enough to sacrifice more than twelve thousand women to have Ada in any way he could—and as crazy as that might sound, it really wasn't too far removed from Simmons's personality.
And this was something that Leon has only thought of now that he had interacted with Ada's impostor, but it was also possible that this woman wasn't created from scratch using those women, but rather, maybe they added them into her—who might she have been.
The impostor bared her teeth and pushed him backwards. He stumbled, but not enough to lose his footing.
Leon took another risk. "What was your name before you became my wife's impostor?"
"Stop calling me an impostor," she said through gritted. "I'm not an impostor. My name is Carla. I'm Carla!"
Bingo. "So, Carla—"
"Don't call me that. My name is Ada. Have you forgotten your own wife's name?" Carla craned her head backwards and yelled, "Boys!"
In an instant, Leon heard the shuffling of feet.
"I'm the real Ada Kennedy," Carla said. "And you, my husband, have been very bad lately. Allow me to punish you."
Soon, a dozen J'avo surrounded him and Carla. They all wielded different bladed weapons, carefully advancing towards Leon. They were supposed to be extinct already, but clearly Carla and Simmons were creating more of them and distributing them in black markets.
"Sorry, but only my wife is allowed to punish me," he said, smirking, before grabbing Carla in a chokehold. "Hate to break it to you, Carla," he pressed the dagger deep into her throat, deep enough to draw blood. Very much like Chris Redfield slashing Ada's throat. "But you're nothing but a cheap knockoff. At best. Now tell your boys to have a nice cup of tea somewhere."
She scoffed. "I know you wouldn't kill me. You need me."
"You got that right. But it doesn't mean that I can't do this."
He quickly spun Carla around, making her face him, before using his palm to strike a pressure point in her neck. She immediately fell to the ground, unconscious, and the dozen J'avo all descended on him at once.
This Leon could deal with. He was used to facing multiple enemies all on his own. But dealing with his wife's impostor? Were Leon a lesser man, he might have given in to her—after all, it was all too easy to pretend that Carla was Ada—but at the end of the day, there was only one Ada Kennedy, and she rested in that tomb.
The thought of his wife gave Leon the extra energy he needed to defeat these creatures. Once he was done with them, he would gag and bind Carla, and then he would visit his wife.
After defeating those J'avos, Leon had located his armour, weapons, and supplies in a nearby room. He had also found the bare bones of another laboratory, so he went back to the room where he had been held captive and took some of that thick white liquid Carla had vomited, scooping it up in a vial. He then placed a blindfold around Carla's eyes for good measure, and then wrapped her in her blue cloak before slinging her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.
He had no way of sending word to his king, Helena, and Chris—he had no raven with him, and this was too delicate a matter to be sent even through a coded missive—so for the meantime, Leon would risk their fury and worry; he had much more important matters to settle.
He had emerged out of the basement into an abandoned barn in an unknown location. The sun had just begun to rise, so after spotting his horse happily munching on wild grass, Leon unceremoniously slumped Carla over his horse before mounting.
He had no love for the impostor and he didn't care whether she was comfortable or not. He had just made sure that she wouldn't fall.
He had trotted around the place, which looked to be a ghost town, but he hadn't known exactly where he was. Thankfully, a signage at the town's entrance revealed his location, so he wasted no time in riding for Raccoon City, eager to visit his wife.
He couldn't bring Carla to his kingdom. That would be too risky. Simmons might try to silence her.
He had ridden for two days in less-travelled roads, resting for half an hour at a time to keep his horse fed. He also ate, of course, before giving Carla water that was laced with sleeping draught.
The first time he gave her water, she greedily drank it, but on the second time, she grew suspicious.
"You don't want to sleep? Fine," Leon had told her. He was about to spill the water into the ground when Carla demanded that he give it to her.
So he did, and she fell asleep. She had been too weak to argue; Leon didn't feed her to keep her weak, and only gave her water just so she would be asleep the whole time.
At night, she remained gagged, bound, blindfolded, and asleep, although Leon tied her to a tree for good measure.
On the second day, he rode again, and by the time the sun was setting, Leon finally reached Raccoon City.
The city might have been destroyed more than twenty years ago, but since being converted into a massive columbarium, business establishments popped up like mushrooms, one of them a flower shop that Leon visited each time he went to see his wife. He, as always, bought a huge bouquet of his chosen flowers. This time, he chose white roses and lilies of the valley.
He pulled up his helmet's visor and greeted the guards.
Leon was well known to the guards assigned to Ada's mausoleum. They never let anyone in and around the perimeter besides Leon and the king, so when Leon brought a vaguely human-shaped…thing, the guards thought it prudent to ask him.
And Leon was glad they did. It meant they were doing their jobs correctly.
"Oh, don't mind this," said Leon. "You'll find out very soon, if things go well."
The guards, still puzzled, let him in, and he crossed the ten metres from the gate to the entrance to his wife's mausoleum. He let his horse graze the field after slinging Carla onto his shoulder, bouquet in hand, then opened the doors with a key he kept around his neck at all times, hanging next to the charm his wife had made for him.
Ada's mausoleum didn't reflect her luxurious tastes. The architecture was simple—there were no reliefs and ornate carvings—and the inside was as drab as possible. If it weren't for the name carved on the space above the door, no one would know that a powerful witch rested here.
Enchanted lamps that never ran out of light illuminated the walls, and there stood at the centre his beloved wife's aboveground tomb. He approached it, setting Carla and the bouquet down on the ground before kneeling in front of Ada's tomb.
If anyone other than Leon set foot inside the mausoleum, the lamps would never be lit and the traps would instantly be activated. His wife really was too good of a witch.
The epitaph on the tombstone read In loving memory of Ada Kennedy, spy, sorcerer, and spouse. At the bottom was an engraving of a butterfly flying into a crescent moon. It was the same tattoo he had on his chest, just under the spear wound he had sustained from protecting Ada when they first met, while on his wife's chest was a tattoo of a lion, its mane styled as the rays of the sun.
The Sun Knight and Moon Mage indeed.
Ashley had designed those tattoos. These tattoos weren't public knowledge. Besides Leon and Ada, only Ashley, Claire, and Sherry knew of them.
"Hello, my love," he said, staring at his wife's name. He made sure that he was alone and that Carla was truly unconscious before removing his helmet and tracing his fingers over the butterfly, and then whispered these words from a poem that Ada had taught him eight months ago:
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
Red light emanated from the tomb and its top and front parts dematerialised, revealing a set of stairs shrouded in darkness. He grabbed Carla and placed her over his shoulder, before picking up the bouquet and taking the charm Ada made for him from under his shirt, giving him light. It was a weak light, but better weak than none.
He went down the stairs and walked for about five metres when finally he reached a metal door painted in black.
He laid Carla on the floor—yes, she was still unconscious—and knocked five times, then twice, then once. He then said:
I don't love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire
And a voice from behind the door said answered:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
More lines from another poem, this time to make sure that they really were talking to each other.
The lamps on either side of the door suddenly lit up. The door opened, and a figure emerged from the shadows.
Leon breathed a sigh of relief.
Still the most beautiful woman to have graced this land, his wife was.
"Good evening, my love," Ada—the real Ada—said, her voice full of warmth and her smile full of fondness. "You're late."
Her skin was pale from not having seen the sun in eight months, but it was drastically different from the deathly white pallor she had in the morgue, where she had pretended to be dead.
"Sorry, I ran into trouble," he said, kissing his dear wife's knuckles.
Ada chuckled. "When does the Sun Knight not run into trouble?"
He hander her the bouquet. "I got you flowers."
Ada smiled, taking the bouquet from him. "You always do."
He kissed his wife's wedding ring. "I'm exhausted, but now that I've laid eyes on you, I feel invigorated."
"Stop sweet-talking me and give your wife an embrace."
He didn't say anything. He just did as he was told, holding her and taking in her unique scent, relishing in the feel of her body so close to his. He hugged her as tight as he could, which he probably shouldn't because he was still wearing his armour, but he didn't want to let her go, not ever again. Besides, his wife was no twig who would snap at the slightest application of pressure. She wasn't just a witch but also a spy; she could beat him in a physical fight. He was taller and heavier, but she was lighter and more agile.
His ran his gauntlet-covered hands over her back. This is the real Ada, my wife, the love of my life.
This was why Carla could never be the real Ada, why she could never replace her—Ada's embraces were warm and always felt like home. There was a twinkle in her eyes whenever she looked at Leon, while Carla's eyes looked lifeless and hollow. Ada's voice was soothing and carried his troubles away, while Carla's was grating and brought him more trouble. Ada's touches can either calm him or excite him, but all Carla's ever did was anger him.
And Ada's kiss. When she kissed him like this—despite all sweat and filth that covered Leon—he felt deep in his bones the love she had for him, and the magic that bound them.
Of course they were bonded. Ada made sure of it during their wedding night. Her magic linked their souls, and Leon didn't need a charm to tell her who was the real Ada or not. He would feel it instinctively, this magic woven into his bones and sinew and the very fabric of his being.
And the real Ada, his wife, was in his arms, giving him a kiss that quenched all his thirsts.
"Darling, that hurts a bit," she muttered, but made no move to get out of his embrace.
"Sorry. I've missed you terribly," he said, loosening his hold as he nosed her hair. Carla had brought him turmoil he had never imagined before, but Ada had this peculiar way of making him feel better with a single touch. Maybe it was her magic, or maybe it was because it was her touching him.
"And I you." Ada said, wiping her husband's face with a handkerchief. "You need to bathe."
He laughed lightly. He could laugh now, now that he was face to face with his wife. "That your way of saying I stink?"
She kissed his cheek. "Be grateful that I let you touch me even when you're dirty." Her eyes zoomed in on the hooded figure lying on the ground behind him. "What have you brought for me?"
And just like that, the fragile peace he felt vanished.
Leon's face darkened. "It's your impostor. Simmons finally let her out."
Ada's mausoleum wasn't really a mausoleum, but rather, one of her safe-houses disguised as one. It wasn't as richly decorated as she would like, but for a temporary underground home, it would do. There were enough lamps to make the place sufficiently illuminated even with the absence of windows and the sun outside. It was cold and lonely and she missed her husband every day, but her research kept her busy.
Besides, she had her long-time familiar—a black cat with orange eyes called Eve, named after All Hallows' Eve. Leon brought her to Ada a week after she "moved in" to this mausoleum, and Ada was overjoyed to be reunited with her companion. Leon had told their friends and acquaintances that Eve didn't want to be parted with her owner, so she now served as a guard to Ada's temporary home. It wasn't a lie, however; Eve alerted her whenever something was out of the ordinary, and so far, the only things out of the ordinary were Leon's arrivals. Eve seemed to just know when Leon stood outside that door.
Ada decided to live there for the meantime while the world thought that she was dead when in reality, she was alive and healthy, working to decipher the coded research notes she had found in Lanshiang.
She didn't have a lot of notes to work on so the deciphering part was almost over. Majority of her eight months living in this mausoleum was spent waiting for her impostor—Carla, according to Leon—to come out, because their plans hinged on the impostor's presence. Without her, they couldn't validate their claims that it was indeed an impostor who killed Finn Macauley and the rest of Chris Redfield's men in Edonia, as well as the one who led New Umbrella.
They would use her to testify against Simmons, and she would need to perform experiments on Carla on top of questioning her as to how she came into existence. Someone needed to be held accountable for the loss of those thousands of lives, and Simmons was just one of them. Carla was responsible too, Ada was sure of it.
Her impostor lay on a couch, and Ada stared at her sleeping face. Eve hissed at the impostor, refusing to be anywhere near her. She probably could sense that something wasn't quite right with her, and Ada was determined to find out what it was. Eve instead demanded Ada's attention, so she picked her up petted her chin, her eyes closing in satisfaction.
Carla wore a red dress and had a ring identical to Ada's wedding band. The nerve of this impostor. Ada took the ring off Carla's hand with smug satisfaction and kept it in her pocket, deciding to examine it later.
Leon mentioned that Carla sounded and acted the same as Ada. Barring the charm she had made for him and the magic bonding them, there were things that only Leon knew about Ada, and that made it easy for him to spot the differences.
It would be disastrous had Leon been unable to subdue her or resist her temptation. Carla could easily fool anyone, but fortunately Leon was true to Ada.
It was eerie seeing herself like that. Leon was yet to tell her of the whole encounter between him and Carla, but Ada already suspected that it wasn't pleasant. Leon looked shaken, and it took her a few more lingering touches, embraces, and kisses to soothe him and assure him that everything would be fine now. The ball was in their court, and it would only be a matter of time before Ada discovered just exactly how Carla had used that forbidden transformation spell.
She looked at the vial in her hand. It contained a thick white substance that, according to Leon, Carla had vomited, and she would start with that.
Leon finally emerged out of the bathroom—What kept him so long?—fully clean and clothed in the spare clothes he kept in Ada's underground home. Eve rubbed herself against Leon's legs and he picked her up, petting her head. She purred before deciding she has had enough, and then disappeared into somewhere. Under one of the chairs, most likely.
He smelled fresh, so Ada set the vial aside and came up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing his jaw.e He placed a hand at the small of her back and turned his head so she could kiss his lips instead.
He looked at Carla. "She's gonna wake up soon. We need to tie her up."
"I'll see what we can do here," said Ada, "but eventually I'm gonna need a bigger workspace."
Leon grinned, pulling her closer. "Does that mean I can take you back home?"
"I hope so." She brushed the hair away from his face, making Leon's eyes soften. "But not until we have something substantial to show."
"What is more substantial than having your impostor right here? What's more, she appears to resent Simmons. We could use that. And she's…" His brows furrowed as he searched for the right words. "She's mentally troubled, as if she's suffering from an identity crisis. Maybe we could still reach the Carla underneath."
Ada strode towards Carla. "Maybe. If my hunches are correct, they have succeeded in creating the body, but not the soul."
The creation of a human body might have been successful, but even if the creation of a soul was most likely a failure, there was still a huge probability that someone would use this spell to create a clone of themselves, and maybe transfer their soul into that new body. It was a roundabout way to achieve immortality at the expense of thousands of lives.
And now that she thought about it, the perpetrators behind the Raccoon City Destruction Incident had been doing kind of the same thing….
She held her hand out. "Hand me the ropes, darling."
"Gods, I wish this were another situation where I'd be handing you silk ropes instead."
Ada glared at him and he held his hands up in surrender.
"All right, all right," he said, chuckling, before retrieving a roll of hemp rope about half an inch thick that lay on a nearby table. On the same table was a vase containing the newest flowers Leon had gotten him, and all around her makeshift home were vases holding the old flowers her husband had given her.
Leon carried Carla to a chair and Ada tied her up securely, enchanting the ropes so they wouldn't unravel or be destroyed unless Ada undid the enchantment.
They sat on the couch, waiting for Carla to wake up. They could just shake her awake, but Ada figured that Leon needed a few moments with Ada alone—as alone as they could in this underground place.
Her husband's head rested on her chest and she held him in her arms, stroking his hair. He muttered, "You always make me feel safe."
She kissed his forehead. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"
Leon sighed before telling her everything, and when he was done, he kept his face buried in her neck, his arms around her waist tightening.
"I felt so dirty whenever she touched me," Leon mumbled. "That was why I took so long bathing. I had to scrub every inch of me, but I still feel like I'm covered in filth."
"Hush now, my love." She kissed his forehead. "I'm here now." She cupped his face. "You did so well, and I'm very proud of you." She kissed his cheek. "Thank you for staying to true to me."
He kissed her palm then smiled lightly. "How can I want anyone else when I already have you?"
She pinched his cheek before her face took on a more serious expression. "Do you want me to make you forget?"
The smile vanished from his face. "As much as I want to…I shouldn't. I shouldn't forget so I could testify against her. Besides, I still need to tell the king, Helena, Chris, and the spy from Lanshiang."
"Maybe we should put off telling Chris. There's no knowing what he would do to the actual person who killed his friends."
Leon laughed lightly and ran his hand across her back. "Will anyone believe that I'm secretly working with my wife's 'murderer'?"
She ran her fingers through his hair. "That's the whole point, darling. He's reliable and trustworthy, and no one would suspect the two of you working together." Helena knew that Ada was alive because she had been with them from the start in this whole Simmons/Carla mess, and Redfield did because Ada wanted to fool Simmons into thinking that King Adam's army could be crippled by exploiting the feud between Chris and Leon. From what her husband had told her, it was working.
It was odd, working with Redfield, even if she didn't directly interact with him. He did stab her with his sword, and he did slit her throat back in Lanshiang. Ada almost died. She wasn't a healer, but she knew just enough how to use her magic to prevent her wounds from worsening. It saved her from death, and in the madness her almost dying brought her, Ada came up with the risky plan to fake her death so she could do her own research in peace. It was madness, and surely there could be better plans, but in her defence, she was on death's door. She wasn't thinking straight, delirious, even. The enemy was moving fast, and they needed to move faster.
But at least she was right to play the waiting game and let her impostor come out. She, however, underestimated the waiting time; she thought Simmons would make his move after three months, but it actually took eight months. Why? Carla suffered fatal injuries in Lanshiang, Redfield had said, but were her injuries so bad that it took her eight months to recuperate? How many more women went missing because of that?
"Once I get back, I'll tell the king and ask him to apprehend Simmons. Helena already has a list of possible Family members, so they would apprehend those people too." Leon's hand stopped. "Have I told you that the king secretly tasked Jill and Barry to investigate the disappearances of those women?"
"And what did they find out?"
"That Simmons is connected to everything. Nothing we already don't know, but at least we have proof for that now. Which is why…" He bit his lip. "The king wants me to be temporarily transferred to Lanshiang. He wants to expedite my investigation; he's beginning to distrust Simmons. But now that we have Carla, I'm guessing that transfer would be cancelled." He stood up straight, taking Ada's hands in his. "My love, I will have to leave soon to report to the king. I don't want to leave you here alone with Carla."
"I'm not alone. I have Eve. Besides…" She kissed Leon's wedding ring. "I can handle myself, dear husband."
"I know you can. Doesn't mean I don't worry about you every single day." He kissed her knuckles. "Would you be able to get something out of her before I come back? I want to bring you home as soon as possible."
"I don't know, but we'll try."
Suddenly, Eve hissed from under a chair.
They saw Carla stirring, and Ada let go of Leon.
They strode towards Carla. Leon grabbed his sword, Eve kept a watchful eye from somewhere, and Ada let her magic flow. There was a crackle in the air, and her eyes glowed red.
She would feel the sun on her skin again. She would hold Leon's hand again under the daylight, and she would return to their warm and cosy home. She would once again wake up next to him on their bed, the morning sunlight streaming through their windows. She would once again wear her armour and fight in battles alongside her husband, proving what an invincible team they made. She would once again forage in the woods for ingredients for her potions, and Leon would come find her and gently lay her down on a blanket, touching her in inappropriate places. And then she would giggle and reprimand him, and he would take her home where she would things to him that no other people had a right to see or hear.
But not now. Before she could go home, they needed to make Carla talk.
Their real work began now.
A/N: Will the real Ada Wong please stand up...
Those lines from the poems mentioned aren't mine. Those were lines from To A Stranger by Walt Whitman and Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda (translated by Mark Eisner). Don't ask me why Whitman and Neruda are in this vaguely medieval-ish fantasy AU
Also. Yes, that was a Kuroshitsuji reference 😂
I knew I said I was gonna write a witch!Ada fic for October, and while this fic has witch!Ada, this wasn't what I was talking about 😂 That's a different fic, and idk if I'll ever get around to finishing it...
I've wanted to write a fantasy aeon fic for so long, but I suck at worldbuilding and it's a massive pain in the ass. So I initially thought of writing this as a Stormlight AU. The Stormlight Archive is my favourite book series of all time, and it's an epic fantasy with intricate worldbuilding and complex magic system, but I really don't have the time and enough brain cells to write a Stormlight AU, so I just made this "fantasy" fic as vague as possible (gosh darn but I love sword and sorcery stories, and I've been dying to see Leon and Ada in medieval armour 😩)
I'm mostly a pantser, although I do some plotting/outlining sometimes. For this fic, I, as usual, began by pantsing it, but the story got a bit too complicated for my bird brain to process so I wrote a 3.7k backstory just to make things a bit more coherent. (I'm never going to post that one, that backstory is just me making it clear to myself some pre-story stuff so I could be consistent.)
And finally. The premise of a knight having a dead-but-secretly-alive spouse was an idea I originally had for Natsunao back in 2019, and while I still love Natsunao very, very much, let's face it, my brain wouldn't let me write anything but Aeon