Disclaimer: I don't own Faust and Eliza, but Ursula and peeps are named after my scary German family! You no can have.
This story takes place before the Shaman King series by about eight years, in Germany, when Faust VIII is 25. Eliza, his wife, is still alive, and the two are living with the Mullers. The 'u' in the name should have an umlaut, but I don't know how to do that…It is pronounced 'MYU-ler'.
Summary: Ursula's mother is sick, and one Dr. Faust is hired to save her. Can he? A new take on how Eliza dies and Faust gets…the way he is.
Ursula's POV
"Welcome to our home, Dr. Faust, Mrs. Eliza, will you please come this way?" I heard my father say in the downstairs foyer of our old German mansion. The doctor was here, at last. I tightened my grip on my mother's feverish hand.
"I do hope the patient is well enough to speak," a man, Dr. Faust, said earnestly.
With a little sadness that he usually concealed, for my sake, Father replied, "Yes, yes, dear Friehilde has been able to tell us all about horrendous headaches and sharp waves of nausea…Well, not in so many words. She will not say a thing of her illness, but her expressions are enough to know."
The three adults strode into the room, with my father, Sieger Muller, leading the way. The forty-year-old man was about medium height, and muscular. His face, once so red with joviality, was today pale and defeated. His short-cut blonde hair was hanging loose and limp.
After him came a tall man, with a doctor's coat on over a clean white shirt. He had black pants, with odd blue patches over the knees. His hair was spiked in all directions, and he had blue, brilliant eyes. I physically had to turn my head to the next arrival to stop looking at them.
A woman came in, with knee length blonde hair and a pink nurse's uniform on. She was beautiful, far more beautiful than me. She had grey eyes, like frost on a cold morning. She looked at me briefly, and turned her attention to the stricken figure on the bed.
There was an uncomfortable silence, wherein I slowly rose from my kneeling position next to Mother and sat back in my chair. I tucked the edges of my long, red skirt under my legs and brushed a long brown braid from my shoulder. Father coughed to break the quiet.
"Ursula, Reizend (lovely), this is Dr. Faust VIII, and his wife, Eliza," he made a wide gesture behind him, and turned, "Doctor, this is my daughter, Ursula. On the bed next to the window is my wife, Friehilde."
The towering Faust crossed the room quickly, and felt her pulse. He glanced at his assistant-somehow I would never call her his wife-and she swiftly guided us out into the hallway. I silently glanced about me and set off to my room to sleep away the rest of the day.
I hadn't been getting much sleep while my poor mother was stuck in bed, too weak to move. She needed so much, and would not say, until I had taken to staying by her bedside as long as I could.
I wearily undid my long twin braids, and undressed. By the time I pulled up my blanket, I was asleep.
Faust's POV
"Dear?" A voice called, rousing me from my deep slumber.
"Ich erledigte meine Arbeit, Lehrer! (I did my homework, teacher!)" I cried, jerking awake.
Eliza smiled over at me from across the car, and said, "You know how much I enjoy seeing how cute you look when you're sleeping, but we've hit the driveway."
I sat up and looked around. We were in a sent car, with a sly-looking butler driving us through the countryside. Behind us, I could just see a wrought iron gate disappear behind a bend. The patient and her family had to be very rich to afford this.
As we arrived and stepped out of the automobile, a man a bit shorter than I walked up quickly and shook my hand. He was obviously stressed, and looked unhealthy, but I could see no need for any medication but a good sleep.
"Thank you, thank you for coming, I am Sieger Muller, please call me Sieger. You are Dr. Faust VIII and the beautiful lady is your wife?"
As we walked inside, he said, "Welcome to our home, Dr. Faust, Mrs. Eliza, will you please come this way?" We followed without a word up the stairs.
In the second-story hallway, I said, "I do hope the patient is well enough to speak."
Sieger told us over his shoulder, "Yes, yes, dear Friehilde has been able to tell us all about horrendous headaches and sharp waves of nausea…Well, not in so many words. She will not say a thing of her illness, but her expressions are enough to know."
He turned sharply into a room, and I entered behind him. A girl, probably seventeen to eighteen, turned to look at us from the side of a bed. There was a face over the blanket, flushed red with a fever. This woman was wrinkled, with brown hair tinged with grey. Her skin was spotted, also, with red welts…
I walked over and felt her heartbeat. Yes, it was strained. If my prognosis was correct, this could be bad…I looked over to my lovely Eliza and nodded for her to get the family members out of the room.
When they were gone, and their footsteps had died down, I spoke to my wife quietly so as to leave the poor woman undisturbed.
"Red welts, and her heartbeat's strained. From what the man told me over the phone, she has nausea and headaches. I suspect she has pericarditis, and that would mean…"
She nodded, saying,"Yes, I know. Where could she have gotten it?"
"I don't know," said I, "but at least it isn't contagious…How will we tell the girl?"
"She looks so sad as it is."
"We'll figure it out, I suppose…."
To Be Continued! Stay tuned for the diagnosis! (No, pericarditis isn't all, and it's not made up)
Yay! Isn't that fun? I don't know, there weren't enough Faustfics…and, if you only read this because it was under the subject 'Romance,' don't worry, there will be a pseudo-triangle eventually…
I think I'll do this every chapter…you know, the chapter from Ursula's point of view, and then from Faust's. I enjoyed how…analytical Faust's mind was.
