Chapter 1: savior
Chapter Text
For the longest time she thought he was her savior.
He'd never snort or call her a baby whenever she ran to his room during a thunderstorm, a mess of tears and snot coating her face. He'd always cover her ears whenever their parents starting arguing at each other, reassuring her that they loved each other and were just going through bad times.
(She hadn't considered the possibility that "bad times" would last forever though.)
He'd read "The Snow Queen" to her when she was sleepy - the one story by Hans Christen Andersen she liked, the one story that didn't end with her trying to stop herself from crying because the mermaid died at the end. This was about a boy and a girl who grew up when one tried to find the other.
She thought he'd find her even after he ran away from home. There were e-mails (no phone calls, though) and text messages, even though he was so far away. She'd wait in the custody of the Snow Queen's her family's residence where things were cold and empty and she just had her schoolwork to distract herself. Eventually her brother would come home. That's what she always told herself. And she knew it was true when he'd told her he'd return. Her savior would come back. She wouldn't be alone anymore.
She hadn't predicted the train getting off at the wrong stop. She hadn't predicted the castle.
But the one thing she wasn't counting on was the fact that when she did see her brother for the first and last time, he wasn't her savior.
Chapter 2: lifeline
Summary:
warning: none that apply. (pg)
spoilers for the "together, forever" ending.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Ib was her lifeline.
She was real. She wasn't supposed to be confined to the halls of this place, instead belonging to the world outside. Ib's rose was real - red.
Hers was yellow (a liar's color).
But what she was doing wasn't lying. It was just omitting a truth. It didn't count.
She tried to take in what was there of the world around her: Bright and cheery, especially compared to the dreary gallery she used to call home. She nodded her head at the kind lady and gentleman who spoke to her (also real), babbling as she always did about how hungry she was and colors and sweets. But all the time she wondered where Ib was. She wanted to find the girl so she knew what to do in this place.
Ib came. She rejoiced.
The two clutched hands, her yellow rose from earlier forgotten. It wasn't as if it mattered, anyways. Her rose was fake.
But things here were real. As long as she had her lifeline it would be okay.
Notes:
soooo, this turned out fluffier than i thought it would!
ib and mary is quite a rarepair, although i don't know whether this would be considered romantic or platonic. ah well. i had fun writing it.