AU - Fallen!Amitiel & Experienced!Alicia

@healingtraveler

It was midninght, take a minute or two, and yet the city was as alive as it had been at high noon. Alicia and her Fallen hadn’t been in Chicago for the biggest part of a decade now and while it was not a matter of missing home, as home was now an everchanging term, they’d wanted to see how everything had changed. 

They may even say hello to Alicia’s kin, bad news as it could be. But for now their attention was focused on the nearest marketplace, seeking whatever being that had prompted Izitayel to choose their destination. 

It’s here. This is the place she was last seen.

Alicia rested a hand on the sword at her hip, barely concealed by the ash grey coat she was now wearing. It wasn’t raining anymore.

“Let’s meet fate, shall we?” 

200yo!Alicia: has done very dark things and is in no way a good person, but still cares deeply and sincerely for a few people and there’s a spark of light in her that refuses to die. 

Main verse ~ Leave. Alicia would consider helping, but Izitayel would persuade her not to. 

MiddleAges!AU ~ Help. What would Alicia do without a handmaid that knows how to pick colors? 

BCA!AU ~ Leave. No demonic persuasion needed, Alicia would be pretty happy to get rid of a Knight of Hope

Main Verse ~ Help. No doubt about it, as long as Alicia doesn’t know Molly is the Winter Lady. 

Middle Ages AU ~ Help. 

@winterladymolly

In another day and age, maybe in another place, the wind would have toyed with Alicia’s hair. As things went, the air was very cold and very still as Alicia pondered the question, tilting her head to the side.

It was a fair question. Alicia breathed out, unfazed by the chill, and considered it for another second. Molly deserved the truth by virtue of being her sister, but that assumed that the Lady wearing her face was still Molly. 

Moreover, the truth had changed over the years. From each skirmish to each battle, through duels and wars, slowly shifting as she herself became the person she now was. 

“Power.” Alicia said, after another breath. “I guess it was the power, maybe the chance to live forever.” 

The Denarian had made peace with outliving her family, only finding about Molly long after. Time had gone by and she hadn’t sought her, telling herself that it would only open old wounds. She wasn’t so sure of it now, when facing a High Sidhe Lady in her eternal combination of jeans, sweatshirt and boots. 

Alicia toyed distractedly with the handle of the sword hanging on her belt, distantly aware of Izitayel’s attention. It was not pain or sorrow she was feeling, it was simply a bone-deep coldness. 

Alicia’s eyes wandered through the cloisters, her attention only vaguely focused on the stained glass windows she’d been sketching. The air was still save for her breathing and the occasional creak of the old wooden bench she was sitting on, the shade of nearly forgotten songs dancing among her memories. 

She’d been to that church once before the town died, and thrice after that. She found something oddly calming in the regal solitude of the forgotten building, a place she could retreat to think and ponder. She’d expected Izitayel to disagree with that particular choice, but the Fallen hadn’t really minded. 

We will not be expected here.