The Way Back Home: A 1917 Fanfic

Chapter 43: Everything Burns

Claire de Lune, the piano clarity of Debussy was the first thing flowing through Amelia's ears along with her steady heartbeat when she finally resurfaced from the depths of faintness. The prickling of her nerve endings sparking back to life moved her body easier as a groan of exhaustion emitted from her throat.

As she came back to consciousness, she remembered suddenly that she had been in Klaus's closet, faced with the horrific mannequin in a wedding dress, intended for her, and the mocking visual of her face taunting her before she had collapsed in a numbing swoon.

And she realized that she wasn't on the carpet as she should have been after passing out with the "mirror bride" being the last thing she saw before darkness clouded her brain in shock. She wasn't in Klaus's bed either, her slowly awakening mind concluded as her sight began to clear. The red ceiling similar in color to her captor's bedroom greeted her as she swallowed a dry gulp of air, trying to resurface from the abyss she had fallen into.

Her body was lying on the cushioned surface of a sofa, covered up to her chin in a dark green blanket with her head supported on a pillow. She turned her head over, squeezing her eyes shut and reopening them as she began to fully wake up.

Most likely, she was in a living room, her mind deduced as her eyes began to frantically search for where Klaus was.

She focused her eyes on a shadowed silhouette in the dark corner of the room, still as a statue. So entrenched in the darkness he was, except for his piercing iceberg eyes, almost glowing, and laser-focused on watching her come to, she gasped in a startled instant of fright, a painful shiver racking up her spine. Amelia attempted to lift her aching head from the pillow as Klaus came out of the dark corner and walked over to her side, his towering form looming over her as he witnessed her awakening.

She exhaled a deep breath, trying to calm herself as she recognized no sign of anger in his eyes she propped herself on her elbows, trying to sit up, her cranium pounding with the aftermath of suddenly blacking out.

Her throat tickled and ached with hoarseness as she pressed a shaking hand to her forehead. And her head felt heavy, like something was on the top of her skull as she tried to keep herself upright. She lifted her hand, and her fingertips felt the cool and hard jeweled décor of a small article of headwear... a crown?

"It's the tiara from your wedding veil, my little Prinzessin..." Klaus's deep voice quietly explained as she clutched the blanket close to her chest and she locked eyes with him, watching his every move as he stood over her, imposing and large compared to her vulnerable position in his parlor. "How do you feel?"

He sounded as though he wanted to change the subject as Amelia looked underneath the blanket he had covered her with... and couldn't recognize the completely different attire she was wearing. They weren't clothes she would've changed into voluntarily...

She took deep breaths as a thousand frantic thoughts violated the forefront of her mind and she held the blanket tighter to her body, the question she wanted to ask lingering on her lips, but not wanting to voice it aloud, too afraid of what his answer might be.

But, Klaus seemed to read her mind and his voice was strangely tender as he spoke to her, like he was speaking to a toddler rather than a grown woman, seeing the fear emerging on her face. "I sedated you again after you fainted, so your body wouldn't be hurt from shock. And, then I changed your clothes into something more comfortable."

He reached over to the nearby table, holding out a glass of yellowish orange colored liquid.

"I brought you some orange juice, Amelia. Pulp-free, just as you like it. You need some nutrients in your system after not eating for so long. I almost have supper ready for you, as well." Klaus continued talking, as though to coax her into not being frightened.