Rosalind - Beauty and the Beast meets Dracula retelling

81- Eternal

The tears Rosalind cried could have created oceans. And within those oceans, there would be dramatic depths of love and pain, duty and regret. Laying upon Caspian's bloodied chest, Rosalind wept until she felt the warmth from his body grow cold -- cold as the ice and snow which had plagued Transylvania for a century. She ran her hands down his arms and thought not of the way he used them to kill or hurt yet of how he had used them to hold her. Long aching moments where her only thought was of how the cruel beast had made her feel, swept through Rosalind like a tidal wave. She wanted to whisper words of love, utter his name, beg for his forgiveness, yet she also felt like she no longer ever wanted to speak again if he could not hear her. Rosalind knew she was right in that she had died along with the lord. The woman left behind was now a shell – hollow and horrible. As her fingers trailed over his reptile-like skin, she thought of his beauty. No one could see it. Perhaps no one ever did. There had been more to him than monstrosity. There had been a man, loving and caring and hers.

Caspian's wings hung over the sides of the bed. Once black as tar, they now shimmered oddly opalescent. His red blood appeared brighter than any sort of red Rosalind had ever seen. She wondered, were she to cut herself would her blood run that red, too? He lived inside her for they had fed off each other. But it had not been solely his blood she had tasted, it had been his very soul. Rosalind wondered if she would find what she felt for Caspian with Troy.

Yes, my feelings ran deep for your son, deeper than you could ever know. In the end, I killed for him. I murdered the one man who brought me to my knees time and time again for Troy yet the largest part of my heart will always belong to you, my beautiful beast.

Rising off Caspian, she slid the vorpal blade out of his chest and dropped it on the hard, stone floor. Rosalind knelt over his corpse and kissed his lips one last time. "Perhaps in another time and in another place you and I could have been together. What a divine force we could have been but we were destined to destroy each other beyond repair." Gently, she touched Caspian's lips, his cheek, the crown of ice upon his head. I will never touch you again, she thought sadly. What a horrible world I will have to live in now, one that no longer has you.

Blood covered her dress yet it would not show up on the black material. Among the stained black, the butterfly broach shone silver. When a ray of light touched it –in a trick of the light –the wings appeared to flutter. When she looked at her hands, Rosalind saw them stained vermillion. She would not wash off his blood, not tonight for she longed to carry whatever was left of him just a bit longer.

"You were wrong Caspian, I did not fly," pausing to nuzzle into his neck she whispered, "I fell. I fell for you hard. Yet falling feels like flying...at least for a little while." Though she knew her prophecy was now fulfilled and both Transylvania and Troy were saved, she did not feel heroic. All she felt was as if she had been shattered into a million pieces.

Stepping out of the lord's chamber, she cast one last look over her shoulder before closing the door and heading downstairs.

In the parlor, Troy felt his body tingle just as it had the night he was cursed to roam the forest as part boy and part wolf. But this sensation was not the painful stretching of skin and bone. It was as though a balm was spread across him making everything that hurt right again. Troy furrowed his brows. For the first time in one hundred years, he felt human again. The long-lost memory of being mortal came to him like a forgotten friend. When he tried to shift, Troy realized he no longer could. Touching his shoulders, he felt no pain. It was as though the whip marks had never occurred. Troy let out a slow sigh then smiled.

From the shadows, Agnes watched Rosalind walk down the stairs and toward the young lord. Moving to stand at the top of the steps, the old maid felt herself shift back into her mortal skin as well. She felt happy tears run down her face. She felt God had returned. Plucking her wooden cross out from under the collar of her dress, Agnes uttered a prayer of thanks, kissed the cross, then touched it lightly over her dress. She would never have to hide it again.

It was the bright sunlight separating the eternal darkness of the forest that tore through the windows and illuminated the manor. Brightness reached every corner of Transylvania and covered the land in a sweet warmth like no one had ever felt. The tops of the snow became crystal.

Rosalind was pulled to the brightness like a moth to a flame. She headed to the window, passing Troy who turned to look at her pale face.

"Is he...?" He asked as Rosalind reached for the pane and placed her palm flat on it.

Nodding, Rosalind watched the unnatural way the snow quickly began to melt. The pristine white shimmered and evaporated under the heat. She felt the sun as it kissed the glass and warmed everything.

Troy walked over to Rosalind and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "I remember summer," he said against her hair, "the way it felt, so beautiful and so unlike winter. You will love the summer, Rosalind. I promise you this." Touching his lips to her head, Troy whispered, "You saved me."

She felt Troy's warmth. It was as sweet as the heat coming from the outside. Perhaps she would, in time, learn to love the summer as Troy did. But inside her, an eternal winter would remain.

Under the melting snow, clusters of little purple flowers with velvety faces arched up toward the sun. Rosalind watched as a flutter of silvery wings approached one of the flowers and perched upon it.

Touching her hand to her stomach, Rosalind regarded the way the butterfly's wings glistened like diamonds. She let Troy hold her and it felt like the summer he so loved.

Above, in Caspian's room, his body had morphed into hundreds of silver butterflies that flew out of an open window and vanished into the horizon. In a solitary corner, a single blue spider came and began spinning her web.

Rosalind closed her eyes and let the sun kiss her face once again. Sparks of light exploded behind her lids yet in the dark spaces of her mind, the spaces where she would carry Caspian forever, she heard his voice echo, "Beloved, death has no hold on us for you and I are eternal".

THE
END

To everyone who read, voted, and commented on Rosalind, this story would never have been finished without you! I cherish every one of you and am humbled by the love you have shown this story. The fan art and fan fiction written because of this tale simply blew me away. Rosalind sits at just over 100,000 words, it is the only story I have ever written at this length (everything else being no more than 50 or 60k). But these characters had a life of their own and wove a tale of darkness, destiny, and the dramatic pull of love. Rosalind, Caspian, Troy, and Agnes grew from a spark to a whole inferno and I have you, my readers, to thank. I hope you have enjoyed. x