Fantasy 𝐀 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 — ᴀ ꜰᴀɴᴛᴀꜱʏ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ.

[ravensunset]

• aa
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• 
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Is but a dream

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
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  the view.

  
  
  
  

  Odesta; a human kingdom.
  
  Spring is starting, the morning is calm, the breeze carries a scent of change, of a land far away.
  
  The sun shines yellow, the branches wave in the sky.
  
  A field, green grass, a dirt-paved road.
  
  The steps continue, the fog parts.
  
  Into view; the apothecary.
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
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  the leads.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  Juliet.

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  The human. An apothecary worker. Soft, kind, a basket full of flowers.
  Penned by .V1LLAINISM._
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  Cormorant.

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  The fae. A banished prince. Sharp eyes, pointed ears. A ringing laugh.
  Penned by ravensunset .
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
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  within a dream.

  
  
  
  

  Twist me a crown of wind-flowers;
  That I may fly away
  To hear the singers at their song,
  And players at their play.
  
  Put on your crown of wind-flowers:
  But whither would you go?
  Beyond the surging of the sea
  And the storms that blow.
  
  Alas! your crown of wind-flowers
  Can never make you fly:
  I twist them in a crown to-day,
  And to-night they die.
  ⁠— Christina Georgina Rossetti.​

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

nine lives

 

[.V1LLAINISM._]

• .
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  location

  
  
  
  

  Heartmoor forest

  
  
  
  
  
  
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  Mood

  
  
  
  

  oh shit

  
  
  
  
  
  
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  outfit

  
  
  
  

  discord

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

Juliet Hardouin

Every night, when the clock strikes twelve, Juliet rouses from her slumber, the tremors of heavy footsteps and murmured conversation faint in her ears. Every night she wakes to the sound of hope and love and is forced to take it all away, unable to rest until it is done, the regime complete.

She winces as her feet touch the cold and barren floors, the chill sending shivers up her spine. A yawn escapes her, and her gaze falls longingly toward the plush of her bed, aching to return to the fantasy that once soothed the worries of yesterday. Dreams are dreams, she knows this, but there is a profound comfort in fiction, in mindless inventions. It’s all she has left.

“Rose?”

The wandering voice echoes, old and yearning, reverberating through the dark and narrow passageways of a home passed down from generations. Through the walls of her prison, she listens intently for the source.

“Rose?”

The woman sighs as she rises to a stand, responding to a call that isn’t meant for her yet is only answered by her, a name that has long since been buried, gone and vanished to a life that is no longer a part of theirs. She begins to walk. Tired eyes and a tired soul, one alongside the other. She is not her but wishes she could be, she wishes she could be what he needed most. To stop all of this torment, to have her love be enough to pacify all of this pain, that is all she truly wants. Perhaps even, that is all that she’s ever wanted.

“Father…” she breathed, standing before the patriarch that was almost unrecognizable upon this ghostly state of incoherence. Sweat glistened against his worn skin, burning at the worried touch of her own. His fever has returned.

“Rose?”

How cruel minds can be! How insatiable the appetite of the heart is! To keep loving after one is gone, to yearn for someone that has become nothing but a memory, from what Juliet understands, is torture in itself. Which is why she isn’t angry. She isn’t angry even if she must make haste come the early morning, she isn’t angry even if she may not find serenity again. She isn’t angry because she misses her too, misses her mother dearly.

“Father, come now.” she urges, her voice merely above a quiet whisper.

Ruefully, under the grim eyes of a midnight sky, a daughter places two gentle hands on top of her father’s limber shoulders, and carefully guides him back toward the chambers from whence he strayed, beckoned by the apparition of his late love and an old promise.

“How I’ve missed you, my dear Rose.”

“I know, father, I know.”

———​

Soft rays of warmth poked through the crevices of her bedroom window, each stream more brilliant than the last, caressing her features and her locks like the soothing hand of a mother. Yet she did not stir. The neighbourly birds chirped a song full of morning cheer, nests perched above the brambles, upon the windowsill close to her ears, yet still, she did not stir. Softly Juliet slept, chest rising and falling to a rhythm of pure tranquillity, enraptured by faraway thoughts, as if she were the kingdom’s very own sleeping beauty.

And yet, the sudden plunge of a furry being near to her side, had made her stir.
Slowly, Juliet’s eyes blinked open, brows furrowed under the irritation caused by the bright and ever-loving sun. A groan flew past her lips and she grumbled, dragging her hands up to rest on top of her face.

“Romeo…”

“Meow?”

How could she love a beast so demanding of attention and affection, yet was so particular with his own? Juliet asked herself this question everyday, every morning when he forced her away from her rest, his fat body a stark reminder of the responsibility she’d placed onto herself, made another living thing under her care.

Fondly she gazed over at him, admired the way in which his pale whiskers got caught in the light, how his coat welcomed the sun’s warmth. He was a beast, yes, demanding and inconvenient in every which way but- he was her beast, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him.

“Oh, I could never be cross with you” she cooed, offering an affectionate pet, to which he purred immediately.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Juliet adorned her face with a dazzling smile.

“Come now Romeo,” she beamed, stretching, “we have much to do today!”

The cat frowned. It seemed that even on her day off, her time was to be filled with hours of effort and movement, how annoying.

Swiftly the woman dressed herself, pulling a light-coloured gown over her body and boots onto her feet, the kind she only wore away from the countertops of her father’s shop and in the freedom of her own company. Her frame shifted from side to side as she admired her reflection in the mirror, each end of her skirt held carefully in either hand. It was a childish thing to do and she was fully aware of it, yet still, she couldn’t help but contain the sense of giddiness splayed across her features. Sundays were always like that, a day of hope, a chance to be whisked away from her awfully small and awfully quiet world. A chance to be someone other than herself.

Juliet smiled as she watched Romeo rub his fluffy figure against her legs, as if marking her as his own. Yes, she thought, today is going to be a good day!


… But there was still one thing, there was always one thing that dimmed the smile on her face, and that was the worry for her father, the condition that he was slowly succumbing to. Last night he’d been… far from himself, an intelligent thing turned listless, half alive and held together by so little, she glanced worriedly to the door. Should she even consider leaving? What if something bad happens? And consequently, Juliet’s mind did what it did best: overthink. Conjuring perhaps the worst possible ideas, she bit her bottom lip in thought, chewed at it until it became a bright and flaming red.

“Meow?” Romeo peered up at her curiously, commanding her to return her attention towards him.

“He’ll be alright… won’t he?”

The floorboards creaked as the woman tiptoed to the bedroom inhabited by her father, not wanting to wake him, to take away from his recuperation.
Carefully she cracked open the door, eyes peering cautiously to where her father laid, snoring softly and with a cool rag lovingly placed onto his forehead. His breathing remained stable, his expression of utmost peace and for a moment, the worry that overwhelmed her seemed minute as her eyes fell onto his frame. How she loved him so.


“I’ll be back father” she whispered,

“You needn’t worry..”

———​

A lovely day she said it’d be and my, a lovely day it was! It seemed that everyone in the kingdom of Odesta bustled in good spirits, harbouring a lively temper as they exchanged their smiles and shared their greetings. Juliet inhaled a long breath, eyes flickering to a close as she took in the smells and the sounds of her home. Today, life was beautiful and it warmed her heart, this feeling of pride and relaxation. And now, she’d decided, she had to do everything she could to cherish it.

“Good morning Juliet!” An older man waved, standing proudly against the entry of his bakery.

“Good morning Mister Hargroves! How’s the arm?”

“Better ever since you gave me that tea. Say, tell your father I said hello will you?”

“Of course!”

Juliet practically skipped past the man as she ventured toward her destination, dress flowing in the light breeze and hat shielding her from the bright sun. She smiled as a group of children rushed past, all offering her their hellos despite being invested within their own comradery, chasing adventure through the busy streets of Odesta. She remembered being their age, but much more modest, bashful. A quiet child grown into a quiet woman, it’s funny how things turn out isn’t it?
Mindlessly she swung her basket, Romeo glumly trudging alongside, as if having begrudgingly agreed to join her on her journey to the Heartmoor woods. It was a fabled mystery around the kingdom, rumoured to hold magic and magical species behind its green walls.Though most people knew that that was false, that whatever magic remained had long since been succeeded by his majesty the king, diminished by the power of man.


Juliet hummed lightly as the roads began to divert and become desolate, the terrain softer and- if she wasn’t careful -enough to make her slip and lose balance entirely. The sun was settling comfortably in the sky as they approached the mystical forest, having calmed from its bright and exuberant introduction. The pharmacist loved these lengthy excursions, loved her solitude, but more importantly, she vied for the diverse selection of crop that was often found at Heartmoor, the exotic flowers and herbs, the rich greenery, all enough to make her and her father’s mixtures all the more potent.
To take care of their patients through and through, was something they’d promised from the very beginning. It was hard work, yes, and the lengths they often found themselves taking were quite dramatic, but to every Hardouin and every Hardouin before them, it has always been worth it.

The utmost glee filled Juliet as the woods fell into vision, tall evergreens towering right before her, making her feel small and insignificant. Instantly she got to work, opting for some sassafras as Romeo disengaged from her side, partly because he was angry at her for making him walk for so long and partly because it was their routine. He’d had the grand opportunity once a week to go explore and chase after little critters while she gathered as much as she possibly could, reuniting as soon as she called his name. And a fine arrangement that was, fair and freeing.

Tiny paws padded against the earthy grounds, their distance growing farther and farther as they both sauntered in opposite directions, excited for their own reasons. Time seemed to be of little essence as they retreated into their imaginations, their own personal adventures, becoming one with the environment. Entranced by the soft songs of the forest, by the breath and the heart, a tale as old and as ancient as time itself.
In fact, it wasn’t until Juliet had nearly filled the entirety of her basket, had she realised just how low the sun had gotten, too low for her liking. Oh no.

“Romeo!” She called frantically, panic settling into her chest like a stubborn ache.

And when he did not come, she decided to search for him. The little beast! She fumed Always causing me trouble!
Through the dark forest the woman trekked, uncaring as the branches and the brambles tugged at her dress, nicked the tenderness of her flesh. A determination brought by worry, and fear- fear that her father had needed her and she was nowhere to be found.

“There you are! How many times have I told you- Oh my!” she gasped, a sudden hand whipping over her mouth.

The woman froze in her tracks. And there her beloved pet, perched lackadaisically upon the chest of an unconscious being, one that she could only wonder if…no!

Abandoning her basket, Juliet dove to kneel before the stranger’s side, ushering Romeo off of his limp body. He was not pleased and time, well time suddenly meant everything. With two slender fingers she searched desperately for a pulse- any sign of life she could find, and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the vibrations, low and faint, against her fingertips. He was alive, he was alive! … What was she to do now?

Grey eyes surveyed dark features, her face twisted in deep contemplation. He looked like something straight out of a picture book- a fairytale of sorts, the kind of character that young girls would swoon over, expensive, important. With warm hair and sculpted features and the most peculiar ear shape, he seemed reminiscent of a prince charming, far from home and nestled in between the flowerbeds, like a tragic painting. Juliet could only do so much as wonder how he’d gotten himself into this situation. But in any case, she had to help him, as it was only right.

Sighing, the woman’s gaze flickered up to the greying skies, as if steeling herself for the decision she was about to make.

“Come now Romeo,” she commanded,

“We have a long journey ahead of us.”

“Meow.”

nine lives