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This is not a happy tale. It is a tale of death. Of death and a young girl.
But it is also a tale of love, improbable as that may be.
It all started when Antonia Stark, heiress to her wealthy father, had a dream. She was as young and impressionable as she ever would be because her innocence didn’t last long. While she was frightened of it initially, through the years it has burned through the fog that eclipsed most of her childhood memories to be a most defining experience for her. She was ingenious, despite being a young woman of 12.
As was said, one night she had a dream. It wasn’t a nightmare, but the realness of the dream later led her to believe it was. Only nightmares can pass themselves off as reality so well after all.
Her eyes were closed when it first happened.
A hand alighted on her brow, calmly smoothing her hair back from her forehead like her dear Nurse did when she wasn’t feeling well or couldn’t sleep.
She then felt the bed dip to the side of her, like Nurse had sat on the side of the bed.
Antonia opened her eyes and rolled over on her side, facing the person who was now evidently not her Nurse.
She had long dark hair and was pale, paler than her white bedsheets, with striking green eyes. Eyes that seemed to glow in the dark with the same sheen that cats do.
She knew she should yell for someone but her mouth felt stuck fast.
"Shh," the woman murmured. "It's alright, it's just me."
And for some reason that comforted Antonia.
The woman laid down on the bed and wrapped her arms around Antonia, encapsulating her in her warmth. She nuzzled into her hair and neck, breathing in the scent of her. They laid there for a long while, Antonia's heart beating rabbit fast for reasons she couldn't say.
Then, she felt a piercing pain in her neck and really did scream this time, alerting her Nurse to the presence in her bed.
Faster than she could blink, the woman rolled away from Antonia and onto the floor under her bed.
"Antonia, dear, are you alright?" The nurse asked, rushing into the room.
"There's someone under my bed!" Antonia sobbed, clutching her neck with one hand.
Nurse got on her hands and knees and looked under the bed into the vast darkness there. After a long minute that Antonia spent trying to subdue her crying and failing, Nurse sat up on her knees, resting her elbows on the side of the bed.
"There's no one there, love, are you sure it wasn't just a bad dream?"
"No, she— she laid down next to me and— and embraced me and then she did something to my neck!"
"Let me take a look at that, alright, dear?" Nurse said, raising her hand to gently clasp Antonia's wrist and remove it from her neck. "There's no mark, not as far as I can see. Can I call in Mrs. Jarvis?"
Antonia nodded. Mrs. Jarvis was the housekeeper and a kindly woman who snuck her cookies on bad days.
Nurse got up and bustled from the room. After a few minutes, Mrs. Jarvis came through the door and stopped dead after a few steps.
“Which side of the bed were you sleeping on, Miss Antonia?” She asked, voice trembling.
“This side, I haven’t moved, ma’am.”
Mrs. Jarvis quickly turned aside to the nurse and said lowly, “someone else has lain in that bed, you can see it in the hollow of the pillow.”
Antonia knew she likely hadn’t been meant to hear that, but regardless, she had. She knew, too, that she should be terrified— after all, someone had snuck into her room and then her bed. Anything could have happened.
But aside from the bite of pain in her neck, the woman had been— comforting . Warm. Soft.
Antonia remembered the incident throughout her life, and while she wouldn’t say it was a formative experience, it stayed with her.
It stayed with her, and when the time came, it served its purpose.
***
Madame Potts did not travel well. She was quite green in the face when it happened.
Antonia hadn’t been looking forward to this trip, precisely. The friend that her father was visiting— a Captain Rogers— had a ward that she was happy to be friends with but startling news had reached them before they even set out. A mysterious illness had set upon her and within days she was dead. The captain was devastated. As were they. Howard for his friend, and Antonia for the lost opportunity.
But the excitement of the trip was now getting to her, a ride through the forest well received. When it happened—
When it happened, it was a surprise of course. A wild cacophonous stampeding of hooves could be heard on the beaten path along the same route they were going as well. Antonia stuck her head out the window to look down the path and saw a wildly careening carriage heading towards them.
At the last second, it swerved and hit the root of a tree, making it suddenly lurch to the side and topple over.
Their carriage driver immediately pulled up on the reins, bringing them to a sharp stop, and her father nigh catapulted himself to get out and to the scene of the accident.
“Are you alright?” He called, trotting towards the scene.
“Oh!” The woman climbing out of the carriage cried. “Thank goodness someone is here to help.”
“Madame, are you alright?” Howard repeated, stepping closer.
“Please,” she said, finally climbing out of the door. “Help my daughter get out of the carriage, I’m terribly frightened for her.”
Antonia craned her neck out the window, trying to see what was going on. She saw a pale hand flung out the window behind where the driver would be sitting and felt a pang of worry for the owner.
Howard bent over and glanced in through the window, trying to get a look inside.
“I don’t think I can get her from here— is there any way we can push the carriage upright again before we get her out?” He asked.
“With my driver helping, I’m sure you two strong men can get it up again,” the woman demurred.
Howard tried to disguise his preening, but Antonia could still see it and rolled her eyes.
The two men set up a system of levers with rocks and strong tree limbs and managed to get the carriage high enough to where they could lift it the rest of the way up.
It crashed back to standing on four wheels, rocking slightly from side to side as it did so. Howard climbed into the carriage quick as could be and carried the woman’s daughter out as soon as he could.
“Thank you, kind sir, thank you so much,” the woman gushed, hurrying over to him and cradling her daughter’s hand in her own.
“She’s unconscious still, is there anywhere you can stay for the night and take care of her?”
“Oh,” the woman gasped. “I’m afraid not. I’m on a terribly rushed journey and I can’t afford a delay.”
“Are you sure, madame?” Howard asked, still holding the girl. “I really don’t think she can finish the trip.”
“I— I don’t know what to do,” she cried, turning away. “I cannot leave her behind in a place I do not trust, and I cannot take her with me.”
“Madame, you could— pardon my forwardness, but— you could leave her with us?” Howard hazarded. “We are traveling to a dear friend of mine’s house and will be staying there for an extended stay. She can stay with us until you return?”
“That would work perfectly, my dear, thank you ever so much for offering,” the woman gushed again.
Antonia squinted her eyes at the woman’s enthusiasm but didn’t supply a protest at her father’s offer.
“Then we shall take her with us and she can rest when we arrive, while you continue on to where you are going.”
“Thank you, thank you so much,” the woman said, stepping closer to Howard. “There are just a few things I need to tell you before you go—” she said, leaning forward into Howard’s space, Howard leaning down to accommodate her.
Within seconds he had an odd dreamy smile on his face that once more Antonia squinted at.
The woman stepped back and Howard nodded his head at her before taking mincing steps towards their carriage.
He stepped through the door and laid the girl on the one bench seat, her traveling cloak and hair laid about her face, hiding it from her gaze.
Madame Potts, Antonia, and her father all scrunched together on the opposite bench and listened for the other carriage to drive off. When it did, Howard hit tapped the roof and the carriage once more started down the rocky road.
***
The rest of the journey was uneventful. Antonia eventually had enough of being so close to her father and a nearly sick Madame and made do with what little space was left on the opposite bench. The girl’s head ended up partially on her lap but Antonia ignored it, mostly gazing outside the window at the passing scenery.
They arrived at the house and Howard was quick to take the girl out of the carriage and into an unoccupied room in the manor, leaving a still nauseous Madame Potts and Antonia to help the driver carry their belongings in.
The manor wasn’t being lived in right now since the Captain was abroad at the moment, so there was less staff in residence than usual. With guests incoming, they were all sure to come back, however.
Antonia gazed up at the sunlit house and couldn’t help but be impressed. Her family was wealthy, for sure, but there was old money and then there was military prestige. The military prestige had definitely helped the Captain and his ward.
His former ward.
Antonia wasn’t grieving overtly, but there was still a small bit of her that was sad at the fact that she wouldn’t be able to make friends with that ward.
But maybe this new young woman could be her friend. This new young woman that they knew nothing about. She'd never had many friends, much as she had tried. But circumstances outside of her control had always made that difficult.
When Antonia thought about it, the woman had been… odd. So quick to leave her child with strangers, so quick to leave in the first place. But whatever the woman was after, it must have been of the most vital importance.
Antonia saw Howard coming out of a room and carefully closing the door and walking down the hall to retrieve his own belongings. Antonia trotted over to the door and quietly peeked inside.
Howard had laid her out so she was laying on her side, hair fanned out onto the pillow behind her. Antonia’s breath caught. From what little she could see of her, she could tell that she was beautiful.
She backed away and closed the door, then grabbed her bags and chose the empty room next door as her own.
Call her presumptuous, but she thought they could be friends.
It took two days for the girl to wake up, during which a doctor came and said she was simply in shock, something she would come out of on her own.
When she did, Madame Potts visited her right away, making sure that she knew she was safe, though her mother wasn't with them. She asked where her mother had gone, but Potts didn’t know, and neither did her father. Madame Potts later came out and said that the girl wanted to meet the other girl on the estate, for the hope that they might be friends.
Antonia walked towards the room next door to hers, palms sweating, waiting to look in for a moment to prepare herself.
She stepped through the door and stopped dead.
The woman resting under the covers was the woman from her dream.
“You!” The young woman cried. “You’re the one from my dream!”
“You as well,” Antonia gasped. “You were in my bed and—”
“And touched your hair and embraced you close.”
“And then when someone came in you rolled away,” Antonia said mournfully. “It— it scared me.”
“You have no idea how much I wanted to stay but when you called— I was but a child, I was scared as well.”
“A child? You were as you are now and I was the child.”
“And you were as you are now in my dream— I was but 6 years old and you held me in your arms,” the woman said. “It was the warmest I have felt since then.”
Antonia stepped from her place in the doorway and moved forward until she was able to sit on the side of the bed.
“I’m sorry, my dear,” she said. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Allow me to be close to you?” She asked.
Antonia smiled. “I can do that.” She paused. “My name is Antonia Stark. What is yours?”
“Loki,” she said, smiling softly in return.
“No family name?” Antonia asked, curious.
“I am not at liberty to reveal anything to do with my family I’m afraid.”
Antonia wasn't— hurt exactly, but it did sting that Loki didn’t trust her. It made sense of course, but there was a small part of her that ached at the rebuttal.
“I understand,” she said. “Is there anything you need, Loki? I’m sure I can call for it for you.”
“Some tea would be nice,” Loki said, laying back in the pillows. “I could do with something warm to soothe me.”
Antonia placed her hand on Loki’s. “Alright.”
She got up and rang the bell for a servant to come and when she arrived asked for a tea service to be sent to the room.
A scant ten minutes later the service was delivered and Antonia poured them both a cup of tea and gave Loki two of the biscuits that had come with the service.
They had been discussing books that had come out recently and older classics when the servant returned and fell back on the subject after tea was served.
“ Pride and Prejudice is honestly my favorite still to this day— the way they both changed for the better for each other is. It’s magical.”
“Do you wish for a husband like that one day?” Loki asked, blowing across the surface of her tea to cool it down.
“I don’t really know,” she said, sighing and resting her tea on her lap. “I’ve never met a man who I’ve ever had an interest in. I might just move to the seaside and buy a cottage after my father dies. I see no need to have an estate all to myself when I don’t really intend to marry.”
“And would you take a companion with you to the seaside?” Loki asked, coy.
Antonia knew what she was asking but didn’t know how to answer. Had she ever thought of a woman like that? She had once been enamored with one of her high society friends but. She had married. And if she was being honest with herself it had broken her heart.
“Maybe,” was her reply. It was all she could say.
***
Loki was beautiful. It was simply a fact. She had thick, dark hair that bounced when she moved, gentle curls falling through it naturally. She had luminous green eyes that made Antonia catch her breath when they studied her. She was pale, and lithe, and tall, all qualities that would make her a beautiful wife one day. She didn’t talk about herself much but had a variety of subjects, mostly history, at her disposal to speak about. Any man would be lucky to have her.
Antonia tried not to be bitter about that.
They became fast friends, and she found herself falling even faster. But while a man at a party would have been happy with knowing nothing about his dance partner, Antonia found herself wanting more. But Loki never wavered— she wouldn’t share her personal history, or where her mother might be.
Things were not helped by Loki’s nigh constant flirting. Or something that approached flirting. And her mood swings that stemmed from what, Antonia knew not.
Sometimes she seemed to grow so sick of Antonia’s company but yet other times she begged her to never leave her.
Like she expected her to. Like it had happened before.
But one day Loki shut herself away, even from Antonia, so she, in turn, decided to take lunch with her father. And of course, the topic of their guest came up.
“Loki is very kind, I think,” Antonia said, picking up her fork and stabbing at the cold cut of meat in front of her.
“Yes, she seems to be a good friend for you,” her father replied, cutting into his meal much more calmly.
“She just. She won't tell me anything about herself. And it seems to me that we’re not really friends then.” Antonia had to hold back the whine in her voice.
“Well, her mother did tell me that Loki would not disclose anything about her family,” Howard said, resting his wrists on the edge of the table for a moment. “She’s just listening to what her mother said, dear.”
“Can’t I still not like it?” Antonia whined. “She’s my friend and she knows things about our family, but I don’t know things about her.”
“You can not like whatever you desire, but you have to respect her boundaries.”
Antonia set her silverware down and steepled her fingers. “I understand that Father, but it’s like I’m still alone here.”
“I’m sure you two will connect over something, my darling,” Howard assured. “Things will make sense soon.”
“If you say so.”
***
“You are quite beautiful,” Loki murmured one day, elbow planted on Antonia’s desk, chin planted in her hand. Antonia glanced at her and saw the glitter in her eyes and looked back down at her journal, blushing. “No, you really are, Antonia. I’m surprised you don't have suitors following you everywhere.”
“I’m not so desirable as you think I am. I’m— abrasive, at times, and can’t stand when people interrupt my work,” Antonia replied. “I don’t have any of my tools or else I wouldn’t be spending as much time as I am with you, despite your shining company.”
Loki chuckled. “I’m sure I could drag you away somehow.”
“Many have tried, and many have failed, my dear,” Antonia said. “No offense intended, but I doubt you could succeed.”
“I have my ways.” Loki reached out and placed her hand on Antonia’s. “Could I tear you away from your designs now for instance?”
Antonia glanced up at Loki and was about to look down again but there was something in her eyes, something that caught and held her. Something that she thought she might want to keep getting caught in.
“Depends on what you want to do, dear Loki,” Antonia said, finally tearing her gaze from those luminous green eyes.
“Just a walk around the grounds, if that is alright with you?”
“It’s just fine,” she said, placing her bookmark in her journal and closing the book on the designs she had been sketching.
“Alright then,” Loki said, smiling. “Let’s go on that walk.”
***
Loki rose late from sleeping. Antonia didn’t think she ever saw Loki come out of her room before 1 o’clock in the afternoon during their one month stay so far.
What exactly Loki did all night after she retired to her room that meant she slept in so late, Antonia didn’t know but something inside her desperately wanted to.
She found that she wanted to know everything she could about Loki. Three months of knowing her wasn't going to be enough.
But when Loki did arise, she almost always immediately sought out Antonia. Late luncheons between them began to be the norm, and they would discuss all sorts of inanities that weren't inane at all after a while. Not to Antonia at least.
Loki was a mystery in a puzzle box, and Antonia desperately wanted to solve her.
Antonia did notice that at their joint luncheons Loki rarely finished her plate, often just opting for the hot chocolate served beside it. She had… not pushed for Loki to eat, but certainly wondered aloud at her lack of an appetite when she missed breakfast and didn’t eat that much at dinner either. She had heard of some girls who starved themselves to fit the french fashions better but Loki looked the picture of health. Her long lustrous hair and porcelain skin that was smooth of any marks, how could it be like that if she wasn't eating?
“I’m simply not hungry, Antonia, I don't know what else to tell you,” Loki said, pushing the food on her plate around with her fork. “It’s not like you eat much more than I do at meals anyway.”
“Yes, but I also eat throughout the day. It’s a habit I’ve formed to ensure that I don’t pass out. Which has happened far too many times for anyone’s comfort.”
Loki sighed and set her fork down, leaning back in her chair. “Then is it so difficult to believe I might do the same?”
“Yes!” Antonia cried. “I ask for trays to be sent up to our rooms and you hardly touch them!”
Loki stood up and walked to the door. “When you decide to be reasonable on the issue, you can find me in my room.”
Antonia sat back in her chair in a huff and stared out the door after Loki. This isn’t how she had wanted this to go. Not at all.
Regardless of how she felt on the issue though, she went to apologize to Loki. She didn’t want to, precisely, but she did regret upsetting her friend.
She stopped outside of the door to Loki’s room and listened for movement behind the door. “Loki? May I come in?”
“Yes,” came the murmured reply.
She slowly edged the door open and peeked through the opening. “I wanted to—” she paused. “I wanted to apologize.”
“Apology accepted,” Loki muttered from the bed, turning from her back onto her side, facing away from the door.
“Loki,” Antonia said, walking towards her. “Please, I just want things to go back to normal.”
“Things are normal,” Loki snapped. “Things are fine and I want to be left alone.”
“Are you sure?” Antonia hedged.
“Yes,” Loki hissed, turning to face her. “Now leave before I say something I regret.”
Antonia bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood, the taste of metal flooding her mouth.
Loki’s eyes grew wide before she buried herself back in her pillow. “Leave!”
She closed her eyes and turned towards the door, taking the torturous steps out of the room one stride at a time.
It was a long sleepless night that Antonia had to bear, and an even longer morning without Loki. But the afternoon came soon enough.
“Antonia,” Loki greeted her, sitting down across from her and taking a bite of the food off the plate in front of her.
“Loki,” Antonia replied. She stared at the woman across the table and fiddled with her fork. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes.” Loki took another bite of food and swallowed forcefully like she had to struggle to get the food down.
“I’m sorry for the way I acted yesterday, it was wholly untoward, and— and rude beyond belief.”
“You already apologized, Antonia, and I forgave you,” Loki said, setting down her silverware. “I, in turn, would like to apologize for being short with you. You were just worried about me.”
“I was!” Antonia cried, not caring to keep her voice down. “I still am!”
Loki winced. “I can’t tell you anything about myself but please. Believe me when I say you don’t need to.”
Antonia stared at her, searching her expression for anything that could feed her worry. She only found earnestness.
She gave a quick nod. “Alright, Loki. Alright.”
***
They went for walks around the grounds, they still ate and drank together. They grew closer and closer and Antonia fell harder and harder. She found herself dreaming of a strange feline that would pace at the bottom of her bed that reminded her so much of Loki that she felt like crying upon waking, for reasons she didn’t quite know. She grew more lethargic and attributed it to becoming mired in her own feelings.
But when she fainted during one evening’s walk, she couldn’t write it off any longer. She hadn’t been straining herself on any work, she had been eating more than regularly for her, she had been getting daily exercise. There was no reason for her to faint.
She told her father.
He told a doctor.
“I’m not sure that you’re as fine as you think you are, miss,” the elderly doctor said. “Your heartbeat is far too slow for my liking, and your father says you have been paler than usual as of late.”
“I’m sure I’m fine, good sir. It was just a small fainting spell,” Antonia said, twisting her hands in her lap.
His mouth slanted to the side, disappointment in her falling across his face. “Miss, I’m just looking out for you here.”
“I understand that sir, but really, I’m fine, just fine,” Antonia said. “There’s no reason for me to be feeling this way.”
“Just because you can’t yourself see a reason doesn’t mean there isn't one,” the doctor sighed. “I’m going to talk to your father and he can decide what to do from here.”
Antonia pinched her lips together. She wasn’t going to yell at the doctor for not respecting her autonomy, she wasn’t. “Fine,” she bit out, moving her hands to grip the blanket beneath her until her knuckles turned white.
The doctor left the room and she let herself fall back on her bed and take a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.
There came a knock at the door and Antonia could only heave a sigh. Likely it was her father coming to check on her after the appointment.
“Come in,” she called, flinging her arm up to cover her eyes.
“Hello, dear,” Loki said, a warm grin clear in her voice.
“Loki!” Antonia cried, sitting up in a hurry. She blinked white spots from her eyes and held her hand against her temple.
“Are you alright?” Loki asked, jogging to her bedside, skirts swishing around her legs.
“Just a little dizzy is all— I sat up too fast, nothing to worry about,” Antonia said, waving her off.
Loki sat down next to her on the bed and brushed her hair back. “Why don’t you take a nap, darling?”
“I can’t, I need to talk to my father about what the doctor had to say.”
“You could at least rest until he gets here? I can tell you when he’s outside the door.” Loki smoothed her hand down her cheek and cupped her jaw. “I’m just worried about you.”
Antonia smiled softly and brought her hand up to hold Loki’s in place. “I know, and I can’t thank you enough for it.”
There was a flash of something in Loki’s luminous eyes before she shut it down. She disentangled their hands and placed hers on Antonia’s shoulder. “Just lay back and rest, you need it. I’ll talk to your father for you.”
Antonia laid back once more and drew her legs up on the bed. She stared at Loki for a moment. “Stay with me? Until I fall asleep?”
“Of course,” Loki whispered, resting her hand on Antonia’s thigh. “Of course I will.”
***
Antonia woke up.
She didn't know why or how but she did. Her eyes snapped open and blinked in the silvery light of the full moon outside her window.
A noise sounded outside her room like someone was creeping outside the door, before it slowly creaked open, a soft whine escaping from the hinges as it did.
"Who's there?" Antonia whispered, feeling a shiver of fear trickle down her spine.
The figure behind the door stopped in its tracks, pausing just outside of the beam of moonlight that usually fell on the door. Then they stepped forward and she saw that it was Loki behind the door.
“Are you alright, Loki?” She asked, worried for her friend.
“Yes… I just.” Loki paused for a moment. “Couldn’t sleep. May I come lay down with you?”
“Of course,” Antonia said, drawing back the blankets on the other side of the bed. “Have you been having trouble sleeping this entire time? Is that why you sleep so late?”
“I’m afraid it is,” Loki sighed, walking across the room. She laid down in the bed and drew the blankets up under her chin. “It has been a lifelong affliction, something no doctor has been able to solve for me.”
“I would have been happy to share my chambers if it helped you sleep better sooner, my dear, you must know that.” Antonia reached across the bed under the blankets and grasped Loki’s hand.
Loki squeezed her hand in hers. “I know, I simply didn’t want to bother you.”
“It would never be a bother,” Antonia murmured, looking across the bed at her. “Never.”
Loki returned her gaze. “I’m starting to believe that.”
Antonia felt the corner of her mouth twitch up in a half-smile before she could stop herself. Then she shifted across the bed, closer to Loki, and drew her into an embrace. She moved until Loki’s head was nestled beneath her chin and her hands were tucked close to her breast.
“Are you comfortable?” Antonia asked, glancing down at what little of Loki’s face she could see— a sliver of the side of her face. A corner of her eye and the sweep of her cheekbone.
Red swept across Loki’s cheek and she nodded quickly, tucking her face further into Antonia’s neck. Her lips rested against her pulse point and Antonia felt her heart start beating faster at the touch.
Loki let out a soft whine, something she had probably hoped Antonia wouldn’t hear, but she did.
“Loki?”
“You’re so warm,” Loki whispered, lips brushing against her skin, and this time something new raced down Antonia’s spine. Something she had never felt before.
Antonia couldn’t repress the minute shiver that made its way through her body.
“What keeps you up at night?” She asked, trailing her fingers up and down Loki’s back, unable to stop herself from touching her.
Loki gave a shiver of her own in her arms. “Just— thoughts race around my mind, and I get cold at night.”
“Would more blankets help?” Antonia asked, wanting to draw the blankets more fully around them as she spoke.
“I already have five quilts. And have the maid heat the blankets with the warming-pan, and then leave it there for a while before I sleep,” Loki said, a certain wryness in her voice. “I don’t think there is much else to do except setting myself on fire, and that’s not something I think I would survive.”
“No,” Antonia laughed. “I don't think anyone would.”
“But you,” Loki sighed, her breath fanning across Antonia’s skin. “You warm me to the core, how do you do it?”
“I—” Antonia said, darting her tongue out to wet her lips. “I don’t know.”
She felt Loki shift beside her until they were face to face. Loki’s eyes darted side to side between hers, before dipping down to glance at her mouth.
“Can I kiss you, my darling?” Loki whispered, blush rising higher in her cheeks.
Antonia bit the inside of her lip. She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. But— did she dare?
“Please.”
Loki slowly moved forward until their lips pressed gently together, both of them with their eyes still open, staring at each other across the short distance.
Antonia’s eyes fluttered shut and she pressed more insistently towards Loki, sliding their mouths together. She gasped and Antonia drank it down like a heavenly elixir, like she needed it to live.
“Antonia,” Loki gasped, breaking the kiss.
“Yes?" She whispered.
“We should stop,” she replied. “We— we should stop.”
Antonia whined. “But— I don’t want to, Loki, I—”
Loki shook her head and closed her eyes. “I can lay here with you, but I can do nothing more.”
Antonia felt a lump rise in her throat. “Alright,” she choked out. “Just— one more kiss? Please?”
“Of course,” Loki said, leaning in. Their lips brushed, and Antonia scrunched her eyes shut as tight as she could.
A tear still slipped down her cheek.
***
Loki acted as if nothing untoward had happened the night before. Antonia woke up the next morning after another dream of the black cat to an empty bed and strewn about sheets, and had to hold back more tears when the maid came in immediately after knocking. She had to talk to her father today about what the doctor had said was wrong with her.
She dressed, went downstairs, and poked at her breakfast.
“Are you alright, darling?” Her father asked.
Antonia flinched at the pet name. “I just didn’t sleep well is all, Father, thank you for asking.” She paused. “May I ask what the doctor said was wrong with me?”
Her father snorted. “He was a snake oil toting fiend, I swear.”
Antonia squinted at her father. “Why do you say?”
“He said it was a vampire attacking you in the night, can you believe?”
Antonia shook her head. “No, I can’t. What was his proof?”
“He said it was your lethargy, slow heartbeat, and a mark on your chest that decided it.”
“Mark on my chest?” She asked, quizzical.
“He said he saw it when you were buttoning your day coat back up after he listened to your heart.”
Antonia shook her head again. “I haven’t noticed any such mark. Probably a fancy of his to charge you more for his services, Father.”
“Probably,” he sighed. “It’s likely as not that you have some kind of cold.” He twitched the corner of his mouth up in a half-smile. “Keep your spirits up and you’ll be better in no time.”
Antonia smiled back at him. “Likely as not, Father, likely as not.”
***
Antonia knocked on Loki’s door after she was to have awakened and she impatiently awaited an answer.
“Loki, are you there?” She called.
A beat, and then a reply. “Yes, Antonia, please come in. I have something to show you.”
Antonia pushed the door open to see Loki sitting at her vanity, brushing her hair in slow, even strokes.
Loki made eye contact in the mirror above the table. “Would you like to brush it for me?” She asked, holding the brush above her shoulder.
Antonia couldn’t help herself. She nodded, moving to stand behind Loki and began brushing her thick hair.
Loki reached forward on the vanity and picked up a necklace from in front of the mirror. On the delicate chain was an oval locket, one big enough to have a decent-sized painting inside. Small enough to fit, but still large enough to recognize the features of the person.
Loki pressed the release on the locket and it snapped open in her hand, revealing two portraits inside. She pointed to the one on the left. “This is a portrait of the first girl I ever loved,” she said. “She was a maid in the house and she was my dearest friend. I could tell her anything.” She paused. “We fell in love and began meeting each other in an outbuilding on the edge of my mother’s property.”
“Loki, I— I don't want to hear this,” Antonia said, stopping her brushing.
“Well, I want— no, need you to hear it. I need you to understand.” She took a steadying breath. “My mother found out and had her sacked. Her entire family was banned from the land and they had to find a new manor to work for. But the girl, the one I loved, she—” Loki’s breath hitched. “She died soon after her family was sacked.”
Antonia was taken aback. “Loki, I’m—”
“I’m not finished,” Loki said, closing her eyes for a long moment before opening them again. She pointed to the portrait on the right. “This is the woman who I wanted to live with for the rest of my life. In a cottage by the seaside, like you do, Antonia. I wanted that with her, and my mother found out and she made it so I could never see her again. She separated us, and my love died, and I’m sure my mother did it, Antonia, I am sure of it,” she said, voice beginning to shake near the end of her statement. She made eye contact through the mirror once more. “I can’t have the same happen to you, Antonia. I can’t. That girl, the woman in the second portrait, I thought I wanted a cottage and a garden and everything to be safe and sane between and around us until I met you.”
Antonia stopped brushing when Loki turned around in her seat.
“If my mother finds out we did anything, I don’t know what will happen. But I won’t be the cause for your death.”
Antonia gripped the brush in her hand in a white-knuckled grasp. “I think I understand, Loki.”
Loki closed her eyes. “Good.” She turned back around and opened them. “Will you go on a walk with me this afternoon?”
“Of course I will,” Antonia said. “Would you like me to keep brushing your hair?”
Loki grinned into the mirror. “That would be nice.”
“Would you like me to braid it?”
Loki’s grin softened into a smile. “That would be even better.”
Antonia set the brush down on the vanity, placing her hand on Loki’s shoulder to balance herself as she leaned forward. She stood straight up behind Loki once more and began french braiding her hair, carefully sectioning out each lock of hair so as not to tug.
“I’m sorry for your losses, Loki.”
“Thank you.”
Antonia relished in the opportunity to touch Loki like this, but she knew it had to end. She finished the braid and tied it off with a spare piece of string.
Antonia held out her hand for Loki when she made to stand up. “Just this once?”
Loki bit her lip. “Just this once.”
They walked hand in hand through the manor and then through-out the grounds, stopping at one point when they found themselves near the gate to the grounds.
“What’s that?” Antonia asked, hearing singing from just beyond the bend in the road.
Loki winced and twitched her head to the side as the singing group came closer. "I think it's a funeral procession."
"That's terrible," Antonia murmured, squeezing Loki's hand.
Loki squeezed her eyes shut tight. “I just wish they would stop singing that blasted hymn,” she said, face starting to contort with pain.
“Loki are you alright?” Antonia asked, turning towards her.
“The pitch, it just— it hurts my ears and I don’t know how much longer I can listen to it.”
“Why don’t you start back on your way to the manor, I want to watch it go by,” she said, squeezing Loki’s hand again.
“That’s rather morbid, don’t you think?” Loki asked, a pained smile on her face.
“Not really,” Antonia said. “I recognize some of the townspeople and want to pay my respects.”
Loki’s mouth thinned. “Then I will stay with you.”
“Even though it hurts?”
“It always hurts when I’m around you.”
Antonia pressed her lips together and turned back towards the road.
The procession passed, and with it, the hymn. There were a few stragglers behind the procession, and one of them, a man of medium height, stopped at the gate when Antonia waved him over.
“May I ask who died?” She asked.
He nodded. “Miss Mary Tibald, she died just yesterday.”
“I’m so sorry,” Antonia said, placing her free hand on her chest. “Was it sudden? Or was she sick?”
“Rumor had it she had some kind of illness, but no one knew what. She was tired and pale, and then her family shut her away. Had to be one with delusions though, because she was shouting about some black cat that was stalking her at night in her room the day before last.”
Antonia stiffened, and she noticed Loki did as well.
“A black cat?” She asked.
“The ravings of a deranged young girl,” the man sighed.
Antonia chewed on her lip. “Most likely, sir.”
He tipped his hat to them and began walking down the path again. “You girls have a nice rest of your day,” he called.
“You as well!” Antonia yelled back.
She knew it couldn’t be a coincidence, the both of them seeing a black cat in their dreams, or waking nightmares, or whatever they were.
Antonia started walking back towards the manor, tugging Loki behind her.
“Loki, something is very wrong in this town,” she said under her breath, steps quick and sure.
“Why do you say?” Loki asked, breaking into a trot to keep up with her.
“That girl— she hallucinated or dreamt of a black cat in her room.” Antonia tugged Loki to a stop in the path. “ I’ve been dreaming of a black cat for several nights now, that can’t be a coincidence. Especially with being tired and pale.”
Loki laughed uncomfortably. “Antonia, of course it is a coincidence, there is nothing you need to be worried about.”
Antonia’s tongue darted out to wet her lips. “The doctor my father sent for—” she said, before stopping.
“Yes?” Loki prompted.
“He said it was a vampire, that it was a vampire attacking me in the night.”
Loki scoffed. “Vampires are the stuff of legends and fairy tales,” she said, bringing her free hand up to cup the side of Antonia’s face. “You have nothing to worry about besides a touch of a cold.”
Antonia batted her hand away. “I know what I heard, and it can’t be a coincidence.”
Loki tugged her hand away from Antonia’s. “I know what you heard, and I heard the same thing. I’m positive things will clear up for you in a few days, and you’ll write this off as nothing.” She started walking off without Antonia then, and she watched her go.
She knew she was right. She just had to stay up to prove it.
***
The black cat didn’t visit her.
She stayed up the night the funeral procession went by and the next night and the next. She rose as late as Loki did, and looked the worse for it. Dark circles formed under her eyes like she had been in her workshop for too long again, and she grew more tired with each day.
But at the same time, she regained her color. Her appetite went back to normal levels, and despite staying up so late she found herself more refreshed upon waking.
This had to mean something.
It either meant she was on the mend from her supposed cold, or the black cat was visiting someone else.
She knew which option she preferred, but she didn’t know if it was true.
And Loki—
The Loki Problem as she was now calling it grew more complicated. Despite them now rising at the same hour and presumably falling asleep at the same time, they saw less of each other than they ever had in the past two and a half months.
Antonia missed her. She missed Loki and she was in the next room. She wanted to see her like an opium addict wanted his next dose.
She didn’t know who to talk to anymore. She didn’t want to confess to her father what was going on for fear of being sent to be confined in a madhouse and she didn’t know the staff well enough to tell them anything besides what she wanted to wear in the mornings.
She missed Loki.
And then the letter came.
***
This is where I take this story into a more personal vein, my dear readers. Not too long after the nightly visits of the cat-like creature stopped, notice from Captain Rogers came that he would be returning shortly. Three months had not yet elapsed, so my dearest Loki was still with us, but as soon as the letter was read at dinner, she disappeared.
My heart broke, but I knew it was the only way.
The captain returned the next day, and immediately he urged us to join him in the carriage, as we had a journey ahead of us. “If you want to sleep in your beds another night, you will join me,” was closer to what he really said.
We were concerned, my father and I, as the captain looked like he hadn’t shaved in several days and his clothes were wrinkled from overuse and lack of ironing. Regardless of our concerns, however, we joined him and set off for a place we did not yet know.
On the way, he told us a tale of something quite similar to the one above. Of a woman who coyly passed a young girl onto a wealthy benefactor while not disclosing any details of her identity or where the two of them were from.
A tale of blood and heartbeats and nightmares.
Sharon, the captain’s ward, fell in quickly with the young woman, Ikol, but also soon fell ill.
She was pale, feverish, drawn, and lethargic. All the same symptoms from which I suffered. The doctors that Captain Rogers called on all said the same thing— that they didn’t know what was going on.
Except one.
He said it was a vampire.
The captain, of course, didn’t believe him until the doctor showed him the mark on her chest from where the monster had been drawing its meal each night since she had fallen sick. But by then it was too late. Sharon died the next night.
Meanwhile, Ikol fled the scene immediately.
This cemented in Rogers’ mind that she was the vampire that had killed his ward. An immortal being sentenced to consuming the life-blood of others to survive.
He then told us that Loki had to be Ikol posing under a different name— that she was the Duchess of Jotunheim, Kloi, who had supposedly died years ago but lived on regardless of what heaven wanted.
The same plague that had afflicted Sharon, and then myself, had afflicted the village outside the duchy until they were all forced to flee. The village had lain empty since that time, all those hundreds of years ago.
The cemetery where the duchess had been buried had stayed in place, however, and that was where we were heading.
It was a long journey, longer than one could stand with all the tension in the air. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t have anything to entertain myself with besides the scenery passing the window, not even conversation. My father and Captain Rogers were both wrapped in a whispered discourse that I could hear snippets of, but not much.
I missed Loki.
I missed her with my entire soul, and we hadn’t even been separated for hours yet.
I wanted to go back to Loki and kiss her one last time before I said goodbye and left with the grief-stricken captain. I wanted to have not left with the captain at all.
We drove for hours and hours it felt like. Eons passed in a single day. But we arrived on the legendary Jotunheim estate where Duchess Kloi was said to be buried.
We saw a man on the side of the road and asked if he knew where the mausoleum was. He replied that originally it had been in the village’s cemetery, but when an epidemic swept through they had moved the body onto the grounds of the manor.
The captain was grim-faced at the news like he even knew what it meant. To me, it meant more driving.
We rode uphill towards the dilapidated manor house and managed to happen upon a mausoleum on the grounds. It was small and looked to house just the one body that the captain was looking for.
We disembarked from the carriage and the captain took out his revolver and his sword both. Father took out his matches.
I just stood and watched.
They crept towards the door of the crypt and with enough force, managed to open it.
Immediately, a shrill scream came from within, and it looked as if shadows were writhing on the ground in front of the door.
The captain threw himself in, and Father went after him. There was a bang of the gun, a slice of the sword going through flesh, and seconds later a woosh of flame.
I don’t know what was in there, but it was not pretty. It was horrible. Terrifying. I’m glad I don't know what was in there, but I could never believe it was my Loki. The captain may say it was but I will never believe him.
I just wish I had been able to see her again after that day.
[Found enclosed in a signed copy of the manuscript with this message: “L., what do you think? Yours, A.”]
My dear Antonia,
The garden is doing fine in your absence, despite my inability to tend it early in the morning like you prefer. You’ll be happy to know that the horse safely gave birth to a healthy foal and the ducks are doing well enough to have ousted the wild geese that took up residence near the shed behind our cottage.
But on to the true point of this missive, my love.
Truly, your talent for prose grows ever better with every novella you write. I cannot believe it has been so long since we first met, but I do believe that it is safe now indeed to write about the incident. Gladly, I cannot wait for your next visit. I must see you now, my love, and ever does my heart grow fonder in your absence. My thirst grows daily for you but I think a local cow shall stave off my need for a while more. Sips from you and for you only, as we agreed. So to keep you with me forever, as we agreed.
Your manuscript is well received here in town and I cannot wait to see it on the shelves of shops near me. When you return I will have quite the surprise waiting for you.
Forever yours,
Loki