It was night when they arrived back at Tera's cottage. As soon as they bustled inside, Mélanie shut the door and hurriedly went about shutting all the curtains whilst the other two started tending to the wounds on Maria's arm. Her face looked a little pale and clammy due to the blood loss, but otherwise fairly normal. Annette had poured some water into a copper bowl and set about cleaning the wounds. Maria winced several times as Annette kept pressing too hard. By the time Mélanie arrived back in the kitchen area, there were three bloodied rags scattered across the table; Annette was rubbing the wound with the fourth. Tera was standing at the worktop, her back turned, making a special brew of tea she always reserved for whenever one of them was injured.
"I hate that smell," said Maria, as the bitter, woody smell settled uncomfortably in their nostrils.
"What is it?" Annette asked, looking up at Tera as the older woman approached the table, carrying a tray with a teapot and two cups of the bitter, woody smelling tea.
"It's willow bark. To help with the pain," replied Tera.
Maria let out a humorous laugh. "I smell it so often now, all I associate it with is p—"Annette pressed too hard again "ouch!"
"Well hold still," said Annette.
"Are you this rough all the time?" snapped Maria, snatching the rag from her.
"I'm not a nurse," said Annette.
Tera placed the tray down on the table before bending closer to inspect the wounds on her daughter's arm. It had been hard to do so earlier, given the blood that had drenched all of Maria's upper arm.
Tera's expression fell. "It's deeper than I thought."
Mélanie watched as Annette suddenly reached down and tore off a piece of Maria's sleeve where blood was wettest and darkest.
"I've only tried this a couple of times before," said Annette, running her finger along the rim of the copper water bowl, filing off a thin metal strip which she fashioned into a curved needle and thread.
"Papa Legba, Ouvri pòtay la."
The needle glowed a golden yellow in Annette's fingers. Then, she plunged into the blood soaked fabric.
"Ow!" yelped Maria, as if she herself had been pricked. When Mélanie looked more closely, it turned out she had been. A thin string of golden yellow light had just appeared at the edge of one of her wounds.
"And it's only worked once," said Annette as she continued stitching up tear in the bloodied fabric. As she did so, the glowing golden thread weaved through the broken skin, sewing the flesh back together. Mélanie, Maria and Tera started awestruck at Maria's arm.
"I can only do it on flesh wounds," Annette added. "I've been trying to teach myself bones, but..."
"It's... you're brilliant," said a grateful Maria. Annette lightly flushed at the small compliment, avoiding their eyes.
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Mélanie woke up early the next morning, wrapped in a blanket on her small bed. Something had woken her up; a faint sound that was very familiar to her. Because the place she slept was old storage room underneath the stairs, she was always the first person to be alerted when someone was going downstairs.
Who could possibly be up this early?
Slowly — so as not to alert anyone with its squeaky hinges — Mélanie pushed the door open a crack and squinted in the darkness. The chink of sky that was visible between the thick wood was the cool, dark blue of ink, somewhere around the end of night and the beginning of dawn, and everything was quiet apart from the light footsteps that were now shuffling around the kitchen area, trying not to be heard. Mélanie pushed the door open a little further so she could poke a head out a smidge. A tall, dark figure was making its way towards the door.
Mélanie sighed. Annette was the only person currently in the house whose sleeping quarters was upstairs. She knew what she was doing. Mélanie pushed the door all the way open, no longer caring if anyone heard her, and walked into the room. Annette, who was in the midst of putting her boots on, jumped and spun around on her knees when she heard Mélanie's advancing footsteps.
"Mel?" whispered Annette, once she realised who it was.
"My room is right under the stairs, you know," said Mélanie flatly. "I'm can always tell when someone's sneaking downstairs."
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Cloak and Dagger (Castlevania Nocturne x fem oc)
Fanfiction"What do you want from me? Want a teary confession about how hard my childhood was? Well, it wasn't. I was a rich only child who got anything I wanted. As long as I behaved... and sat still... and didn't speak unless spoken to. My mother said I...
