Oh, Darling Mine [Lady Dimitrescu] [REVIII]

Chapter XII

A/N: hello, hell-o! I am back. I know, I know... it's been literally EIGHT months since I last updated, I am so sorry. Writer's block sucks, especially since I kind of forgot about REVIII, with HOTD going on and all. BUT, finally this update is here, it's shorter than usual, but I'm hoping it still is good for you all, especially since it includes a little piece of yours truly's artwork! Read on to find out! *winkwink*

･-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-.

The villagers' usual outside wandering grew less frequent as days went by; as the winds of winter began to slowly but surely make the atmosphere colder, and unpleasant. The whole village quietened; outdoor activities ceased almost completely--it left the area looking as though not a single soul had dared set foot in it in a while...

Until early this morn.

Thunderous stomps, slightly muffled by the recently fallen snow, seemed to echo amidst the deadly silent village. If anybody had dared peep through their tightly locked windows, they would've been able to see the Lady Dimitrescu in the early morning fog, fast as lightning, leave the castle grounds and rush into the Lord Moreau's Reservoir. Only a few unsuspected crows took flight upon the large woman's sudden approach-nothing else living stirred awake despite her heavy thumps.

The old, rusty gate locking the Reservoir screeched painfully as she pushed harshly on it. It took a few tries before the eroding hinges made way, and the gate opened just enough for Alcina to slide through; not minding at all that her white warm shawl covering her simple nightgown got stained with some rust in the process. She practically stumbled her way into the Reservoir, only stopping at a wooden fence to catch her breath for a few moments. Standing upright, she resumed her way, this time at a slower pace.

The old houses she passed by were locked tight, silent. At first, she could only hear the whistling sound of the wind; it made the pine trees whisper amongst themselves, as though they were gossiping about the Lady's unusual presence around there. As she began to get closer and closer to the actual reservoir, Alcina could make out some splashing sounds here and there at random times. Other than that, the area remained peacefully quiet.

Her amber-colored eyes darted quietly around the place, expecting to find Salvatore waiting for her. He had called her, after all, inviting her to come visit his reservoir. Yet Lord Moreau was nowhere to be found.

Her pace slowed considerably as the first wooden planks of the old pier showed amongst the morning mist. It had just now begun to clear a little, just enough to gaze down into the darkened waters below. Alcina couldn't help but wince every time she took a step, for the wood would creak deafeningly beneath her bare feet. She didn't stop moving, however, until she reached the very edge of the pier, and took another long and focused glance around her. It was then that her eyes finally found who she was looking for: Salvatore Moreau stood yet on another pier on the other side of the reservoir, shyly overlooking the waters. He was too far away for her to see it, but he had a constant joyous smile on his face.

Alcina tightened the shawl around her shoulders, and began to take a deep breath-she was just about to call out to Salvatore when a shimmering light in the water caught her attention. Her eyes darted back to the slightly moving waters now; small ripples broke the once calm and serene surface, making her frown in thought. Had a fish made its way up to the surface, she wondered.

An audible gasp escaped her as a long, silver tail appeared to the left of the pier; for a second it showed just below the surface, enough for the countess to see it shine brightly, as if it were a thousand diamonds thrown into the water instead. However, she knew what she saw: she saw a tail. A fish tail, as large as she was in height, she swore. As it appeared, it faded back into the dark depths of the reservoir, quick as lightning. She looked up rapidly, her gaze landed immediately on Salvatore still standing on the other pier. She knew of Moreau's monstrous transformation, a giant ugly piranha of sorts-but he still remained in his usual form.