Alice Shelby, the youngest girl in the Shelby-clan, finds herself lost in the English countryside with nothing but a drunk ex-mercenary, two equally lost children, and a tiny knife on her side. Once upon a time, she had wished for a grand adventure...
A/N: Hey ! This is the first official chapter, my god ;,) took me way too long. it's going to be a bit scrambled, but I hope to write it out in a way that is a reflection of a little girl, u know? alice is very distraught rn so i hope it reflects in a way that makes sense. anyways, strap in !! hope you enjoy !!
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Lily was quicker than her, scrambling up to her feet while the man struggled to get up. An old vase, made of clay and paint, was used by Lily's trembling hands to slam down upon the man's head. He collapsed, groaning in pain while Alice's feet and hands moved for her. There were no thoughts, not really. She was functioning off of coal and steam. Outside the small room, the sounds of Stag murdering their other assailants echoed through the walls. She didn't flinch at the gun shots.
Her hands grasped her big brother's razor so hard her knuckles turned white, but she's preparing, moving her hand back ever so slightly until she aims for her target. His neck is exposed. He's distracted and down.
Her brother, John, is encouraging her in the back of her head. A memory, so far away she has to strain to hear him and his stupid voice.
"Now that right there is fatal, Ali, If you stick a man right there, he'll be gone in seconds. Get him now, this is the best time to attack."
She's grabbing the back of the man's hair, and gearing up to the side, the blade slides -
... And there Alice Shelby stood, in the middle of a flower field, several hours later. Jaded beyond her eleven years. Her small hands were stained red from the night before, and she had gained a gun as well as her brother's razor on her person. She had no memory after the knife pierced the man's neck, only regaining awareness again in the field.
So far, over the past two weeks, the youngest Shelby girl had gotten lost at the fair, kidnapped and smuggled to Edinburgh, rescued (or re-kidnapped, however you wanted to look at it), had run from cops and gangsters alike, and now she was a murderer and thief. But nothing so far left her feeling quite like this. Right here, right now.
It was just all so beautiful. Like a painting. Alice can't even comprehend it's real, that it's right in front of her. Was she still dreaming? Could her own mind make up something so colorful and bright? If so, it was doing an amazing job.
She wished, desperately, to capture a chunk of the amount of magic the sprawling flower fields in front of her held. She'd show it off like a new necklace, to her Finn and Ada. They'd appreciate it the most, Alice thinks. Home is so different, compared to this. It was all greys. Grey everything. Grey buildings, grey skies.
Countless hues lay in front of her for miles. Flora of all shapes and sizes. Blues, purples, yellows... Most of the flowers she can't name. And she swore, with each gust of wind, it sounded like fairies chattered all around her. It was so easy to breathe, and it didn't even stink. Not even a little bit. It was real magic.
