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Everything was spinning. Her heart thundered in her chest, like the wind on a stormy day. Racing quick and violent— her throat burned from the pressure building up. She pushed hard and fast, weaving through the many trees and bushes blocking her path. Tears fell from her eyes as she chased after the familiar image of brown and red, those beautiful amber hues staring at her with a kindness they had hardly ever seen from her. Reserved for Stella, and Stella alone.
Laughter echoed throughout her ears followed by shouting in the distance. She was there— she had to be.
Stella wiped at the tears staining her cheeks, breath heaving as she pushed herself as fast as her legs would take her. Tears fell from her eyes as she chased after the image of a woman with red hair who ducked behind each and every tree, her distant screams echoing throughout her eardrums.
"Beatrix!" Stella cried out, begging whatever gods above to hear her pleas— to tell her where the screams were coming from. That's when she saw it, the familiar clearing through the woods. Pushing through the bushes the woman collapsed into her knees. Numerous scratches and cuts layered her legs from the tips of her toes to just beneath her dress. The image of Beatrix faded from her view, leaving her alone in the small clearing.
"No," the blonde's bottom lip trembled as she bit back the sob that threatened to leave her chest. She had lost the very sight of the one thing she clung to, the only person who has ever truly understood her. Beatrix was gone— she was gone and Stella feared that she would never see her again. Tears rolled down her cheek freely without care.
Oh, if only her mother could see her now. Her banquet dress covered in soil and leaves, the edges of it torn from where she had gotten caught in briars. She would give her that same angry look as she always had and tell her just how pathetic she was right now, how awful she looked. Because appearance meant everything to her mother, the queen, whomst she had run from just thirty minutes prior when Beatrix's faint voice filled her ears.
She heard the shouting and the voices as she fleed the school, running into the cover of the woods only to become lost and then not.
For she knew exactly where she was right now as the familiar image of the granite stone came into view. She moved forward on her hands and knees until she collapsed into her stomach, resting her cheek against the soil below. Into the arms of a girl who no longer walked upon this damned world.
Beatrix Daniels.
Her best friend, and the woman who stole the heart of the Princess of Solaria.
Stella's nails dug into the soil below as the tears fell, sobs wrecking through her body, causing her to tremble against the ground. Dirt collected upon her clothes like the sky collected stars at night, smearing brown and grey against the color of the beige fabric. "Why," she broke, eyes locking up on the name engraved on granite. Written in stone— Beatrix Daniels, a loving daughter, friend, and— a muffled cry.
It was faint but it was _there_ and it made Stella freeze, a chill running through her spine. Her heart raced, beating quick within her chest, as she tried to block out the sound in her ringing ears. Another cry, barely audible, and it sounded like it was coming from... Below her.
How could it be?
It was almost as if—
"Stella!"
The sound made her blood run cold, for she could have sworn that it was Beatrix. Just for a second, calling out for her, begging for help. But it couldn't be true, could it?
The familiar memory of the crimson liquid coating stone, as she held Beatrix's still body in her arms. Her cold, immobile body. Everything pointed towards the truth, that her friend, Beatrix Daniels, was gone— there was no way she could have survived such a blow to the back of her head. It didn't make sense... Unless..
Blue eyes widened in shock as the faint sound of someone banging on wood caught her attention. A plead for help.. she was alive, she had to be.
The princess pushed herself to her knees, brusied and bloodied from her run through the forest. Having tripped numerous times and running through briars that tried to stop her, holding her back and ripping her dress. Blood mixed with dirt, a burning reminder that this was real.
She was screaming, begging for help.
A hoarse laugh fell from her lips as Stella leaned over the mound of dirt, fingers digging into the freshly dug earth, relishing in the feeling of it underneath her finger tips. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her mascara remained smeared across her face from the light fairy wiping away her tears.
If only her mother could see her now; bent over the grave of someone who had indirectly taken the lives of so many people. Innocent, young people, with an entire future ahead of them. Gone and never to be seen again. All because Beatrix had allowed Sebastian into the school where he drained all the students of their magic, and the scrapers killed them. Yet here the princess was, begging the world to bring the person who allowed it all to happen back.
A princess doesn't beg.
A princess doesn't cry, it ruins their appearance.
The alcohol was strong, too strong, for she could feel her heartbeat in her hands. She could hear the laughter echo throughout her ears— she could hear her.
Screaming, begging, pleading for someone – anyone – to let her out.
Beatrix was trapped below. She was alive, Stella was sure of it. She had to be. She was Beatrix... Brilliant and cunning Beatrix. A simple hit to the back of the head couldn't have possibly taken her away. She was smarter than to allow herself even a small moment of distraction. Beautiful, calculative Beatrix... She never allowed herself to be open to a potential threat. It didn't make sense. It didn't— she wouldn't have let herself get distracted. Not against Sebastian, not Rosalind... nobody.
She couldn't be dead.
Beatrix isn't dead.
She's screaming, crying, begging for someone to help her because she's trapped. Trapped in the same darkness she feared when they had found her after the scraper attack. She had to be... Stella could hear her.
Dirt stuck to cloth as Stella dug into the dirt below, digging, scratching, and pulling.
"Hang on!" She cried out, voice hoarse from many hours of crying, and then there was silence.
The voice of her friend, the only person who ever truly understood, was gone just as quick as it had shown up. Oxygen. Beatrix was running out of oxygen. She had to hurry, she had to get to her.
She could hear the scratching of the coffin beneath the surface and the muffled voice of Beatrix Daniels. Her head twisted and burned, her stomach aching from the amount of alcohol she had an hour before. The world spun and she shook her head, willing it to stop so she could focus as the tears fell freely down her face. She had to get to her.
She was waiting for her, she needed her.
Beatrix wasn't dead.
"Stella—" the voice called out from below, a scream, a plea, "Stella!"
She could only imagine the fear in her deep brown eyes as she wept, her voice hoarse and body sore. Stella was afraid that she would run out of oxygen by the time she reached the bottom, "I'm almost there!"
She was getting closer– she was sure of it. The voice was getting closer, muffled beneath the dirt below, no doubt even more so due to the wooden coffin.
It was then that she saw it.
The wooden material of the coffin. Inhaling sharply at the sight, Stella rushed to clear half of it off before slamming her fists against the wood. It was then that she used her magic to create a small blast, busting a part of the coffin enough to fit her hand in it. She pulled and tugged, the wooden material digging into her hand. Blood coated the palm as she ripped the coffin open.
A hand reached for her own, and within seconds Stella reached in and helped lift the smaller woman out. A gasp followed by fearful sobs. Beatrix's body rested against her own, head against her neck as the princess clutched her body close to her chest.
"You're okay, it's okay," Stella breathes out a relieved sigh followed by a broken sob, "I've got you." Her fingers ran through red curls as she pressed a kiss to Beatrix's forehead, "You're not alone. You still have me, okay? You will always have me."
The words came out slurred, alcohol heavy on her breath as she brushed a few strands behind the air fairy's ear. She cradled her body, her touch soft and gentle, a tender hold as she leaned her forehead against her head.
Silence—
Why is it so quiet?
A broken laugh left Stella's lips, "I think I love you."
The words were so simple yet so foreign at the same time. When was the last time she had said them and meant it? She said them to Sky but it wasn't true, and her mother wasn't a fan of any sort of attention, so she learned really young that even if she said it— then she wouldn't hear it back. Their relationship was far different from that of a normal mother and daughter. There were no moments of comfort nor time spent with one another.
Instead, most of the memories Stella had of the Queen were awful, and dark. Being locked in a room for hours chained with shackles that prevented her magic from coming through, or having her own greatest fears used against her in the form of an illusion. That one in particular was the punishment her mother often enjoyed using.
It wasn't normal, that much Stella was aware of. If she were to ever say the words "I love you" to her mother, it was not out of genuine love, but a hollow phrase she was trained to use in public.
But with Beatrix she meant it. Somewhere along the line she has grown attached to her, and she began to form deeper feelings for the redhead.
Pale fingers clutched tightly to the fabric of her shirt as Stella rocked the two of them back and forth. "I could love you, Beatrix," she cried out as she held tightly to her body, "I want to."
A voice spoke, but she couldn't hear. She couldn't hear anything— it was silent. The world had gone completely quiet around her. Nothing more than a muffled sound reaching her ears as she buried her head against the air fairy's shoulder.
The world spun, becoming much darker than before, and she felt sick. She tried to bite back the bile that tried to force itself up. And for a moment it felt as if she was struggling to breathe. For a moment, everything had been engulfed in darkness. But she was still conscious. She could feel everything— she just couldn't hear it. Her ears were ringing and her head ached from the pain.
And then, she could feel arms on her shoulders. The person's voice remained muffled in her ears, frantically calling out to her. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but she could feel their hands pulling roughly at her shoulders. Beatrix's weight was suddenly gone, and her heart ached, eyes opening but she stared up at what she believed to be a light grey sky. Water trickling down her face but she wasn't sure if it was from rain or the tears.
A blurry figure stood over her. Somehow she had ended up on her back, and then she was being pushed over onto her side. There were more voices frantically calling out to her.
But she was tired, so tired.
Her eyes fluttered shut and then open again. She was struggling to keep them open, but she had managed to catch a glimpse of Beatrix face across from her. Her eyes were closed and her face remained in a straight line. She had turned blue, her face drained of any and all color.
Stella's hand barely lifted from the ground as she faught against the weight of gravity, trying to reach out for Beatrix, who remained immobile.
Beatrix, whom she wanted to believe was alive, but wasn't.
A weak smile had formed on her face as she stared at the face of her best friend. "I could love you," Stella slurred out, a sickly and sour smell tainted her breath.
Her eyes fell closed once more, and this time, they stayed closed.
The alcohol was strong.
But the she took pills were stronger.