Bought in Blood
Disclaimer: Don't own, please.
Author's Notes: Gen fic, with April as the main character! I love writing these just to shock people, hee. Some David/April hints, maybe, but nothing big.
Thank you for reading, so much, thank you!
This isn't a fairytale. People don't die in fairytales.
April has seen things most little girls would give anything to see- the beauty of a princess (ripped from her true love), the glory of a perfect knight who shares his saddle with nothing more than a smile (she buried him and the song felt like a broken bottle), and the soft sheen of white that covers the hide of a unicorn (and how she misses the Vikings, most of which who dine in the clouds, and when the thunder booms she almost hears Thorolf's laughter). All this, each wonder of the world, is placed at her feet in Everworld.
She pays for it in blood. Not her own, usually. Senna's has yet to dry up her debt, it seems.
All the splendors of the fairytales she'd read as a child, and all April wants it to be home. She'll trade the braided-manes of the horses for a bent fender. The velvet dresses for shredded tennis shoes. The stone-wrought weight of David's gaze for that moment they sat on her bed, so long ago, so close together that April could feel the air escaping with his hesitant whispers in the dark.
Just the same, when Jalil comes to find her, perched in the Daggermouth windows and overlooking the ugly landscape, she smiles at him. "Where have you been?" he wants to know. Next, he'll bring up war plans. April will have more blood on her hands to pay for her pleasures, it seems. So much blood that it seems to outweigh her joys, even, and sometimes she understands that better than she does.
"Where else would I be?" she asks, and closes the shutters on the gray of the sky.