#isleen

Woot woot!! Celestefam commission!!

Fanart of my favourite Brew characters, Belladonna and Isleen! ^^

okay okay you're getting all three of them here we go!!

1 – Isleen

Secret seer & magic user (doesn't see everything by any means, but when she does see something she frequently sees all the different ways that the same moment could play out), works at the castle and has to do a lot of shit she doesn't like to stay alive and to keep Arthur and Merlin alive At first, Gwaine doesn't understand how she can see the future and still ignore shit that happens (especially with Uthur) but she basically says that she's seen every possible outcome and needs to do whatever it takes to get Arthur on the throne because he can fix shit He still doesn't get it, but becomes devoted to helping her and to trying to find a better way, and becomes the one person she can turn to when she has to let bad things happen (in order to stop worse things from happening later) and/or when she doesn't see something bad that's going to happen and becomes overwhelmed with guilt and horror

2 – Princess Vidalia

Runaway princess (fleeing an arranged marriage) who Gwaine runs into in a forest and thinks is another wanderer, their paths keep crossing Details a bit tbd but might go full princess bride and he ends up saving her from a kidnapping that was actually arranged by her betrothed, finds out who she is

3 – Princess Zarya

I actually got around to writing something, I’m amazed at myself. Anyway here is Part 1 of my fic about Isleen’s revival and Asra’s response. I’m not sure yet if it’ll be a 2 parter or a 3 but I’ll try and get them out soon.

Enjoy and feel free to comment!

Pairing Asra x Apprentice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was time, after months it was finally time. A sharp pulsing pull was filling Asra’s chest, causing him to flee the shop, chasing the feeling and knowing exactly where it was leading him. It had only been a day since Count Lucio was allegedly murdered by Ilya but none of that mattered now, it was finally time.

Faust was squeezing his shoulders, having been awoken from her nap in his clothes, “Friend?”.

“Yes.”, was his only word.

He had never run so fast in his life and soon he was in the mystical cave, the very walls aglow with ancient magic, practically dripping from the stones and stalagmites. By the time he entered the open cavern, the flower in the center was blinding with a prism of colors, forcing his vision to the dark water below.

His eyes were drawn to a small glowing form, a small transparent fetus reminding him of drawings he once saw in Ilya’s medical books. The tiny thing pulsed, causing a single ripple on the otherwise still lake. His eyes were transfixed as with every pulse the fetus grew, soon an infant and still glowing.

His chest burned like a claw was digging deep inside and he could barely breathe but he couldn’t look away. A child was curled in fetal form, then a teen, and then finally the form he remembered most, that he dreamed about every time he closed his eyes. The pulsing finally stopped and the blinding light from the flower faded into nothing.

He exhaled right as the woman’s body below inhaled and he was diving in without thinking, Faust slithering off him just seconds before. His hands reached for her still sleeping form before pulling her to him, breaking the surface quickly and dragging her ashore.

His hands cupped her face, her flesh burning under his touch and his eyes stung with heavy tears. It only a took a second before her eyes flew open, coughing out the water in her lungs, and he felt as if the ground had evaporated under him and that she was the only real thing left in the universe. He couldn’t breathe he was so happy.

“Isleen! Oh Isleen! You’re here, you’re back.” He was sobbing now, choking on his own breaths as her peach colored eyes confusedly met his before focusing to some unknown point, as if all clarity was lost.

His thumbs rubbed her cheekbones. “Isleen?”

Nothing, no response. She just stared, glassy eyed and as limp as a doll. A sharp chill ran through him, a creeping sense that something was wrong, and he tried to bring her focus to him. Her eyes landed on him but he could tell she wasn’t really seeing him.

He pulled back and let go of her naked form, quickly catching her once she started to tilt as if about to slump over.

“Isleen, do you know where you are? Who I am?” His hands were clutching her arms in desperation, panic in his voice but she didn’t respond. She did nothing. If not for her breathing and the warmth under his hands he would swear she was just a corpse.

A heavy feeling was sinking into his stomach, this was wasn’t right, did he perform the ritual incorrectly? Did the Devil lie? That her body would be revived but not her mind? Did he just condemn her to a fate worse than death?

What had he done?

He needed answers but first he couldn’t leave her, he was never abandoning her again, that he swore to himself.

She was still slumped against him, breathing steadily, and he pulled off his vest to wrap around her before standing, holding her in his arms bridal style. Faust slid up his leg, wrapping around his shoulders to peer curiously down at Isleen’s unresponsive form.

Her head cocked, “Friend well?”

Asra grimaced but determination filled him. “Almost, she will be.” She has to be, he wouldn’t give up on her, this was just a setback. Maybe the shop would help bring her out of her stupor.

He used his magic to obscure their presence when arriving back in Vesuvia, he didn’t want anyone bothering them, especially with her naked and vulnerable in his arms. Not that it mattered, the city was still buzzing about Lucio’s murder.

The magic lock on the shop’s door opened and even with the worrying circumstance, he couldn’t help but feel like he was truly home for the first time in months now that she was here in his arms. As if all was right in the world once again.

He looked down at her face, searching for any signs of recognition now that she was in her old shop. His face dropped into disappointment when she didn’t react, her eyes still unfocused and glassy. He brought her upstairs and gently placed her on the bed.

She didn’t move, just laid there like a puppet whose strings were just cut. Hot tears filled his eyes but he quickly wiped them away before crawling in next to her, wrapping her body close to his as all the adrenaline and emotional turmoil deflated from his body.

He closed his eyes and when he opened them again he was in his oasis. The normally bright realm dull and quiet from his feelings of fear and doubt. He immediately looked for the entrance to the Magician’s realm and wasn’t at all surprised to find the mercurial fox waiting for him.

“Not quite what you wanted is it? Do you still think the price was worth it?” The Magician’s words sounded biting but they were spoken without malice or judgement.

Asra swallowed the lump in his throat. “What did I do wrong?”

The fox smiled slightly. “Did you think playing with the forces of life and death would be easy? That pulling a passed spirit from the void wouldn’t have scars? I know I’ve taught you better than that Asra.”

Asra perked up at his words, “So it is her spirit? It really is her?”

The smile grew at his questions. “You performed the ritual correctly, but death is not something that can be glossed over. A new form means a new life, some things will never be as they were before. You’ve made the choice to toy with the natural order of the mortal realm and now you must stumble as a newborn child, blind and helpless to what’s to come. I’m curious to how you two will develop in this new path you’ve made.”

He had no response to that and the fox chuckled at his silence.

When Asra blinked, he was no longer staring at the fox but at the bedroom ceiling. The sun’s setting rays of light basking everything in a warm glow. For a moment he thought that everything before had been a dream until he turned his head to find Isleen still beside him.

His mouth was set in a stern line, the Magician’s words ringing in his ears. A newborn child and new life, he had an idea what the old fox meant. The Magician was correct, death couldn’t be something just ignored and Isleen’s deceased spirit had been in the void for months.

Her spirit and mind needed time to adjust and recover, at least he hoped that’s what the fox meant but it was giving him some semblance of hope that he hadn’t doomed her to a life as a vegetable. He sighed and cupped her face, bringing his forehead to hers. She just needed time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Asra had to keep himself from weeping, the first week of her revival filling him with conflicting emotions and already he felt another headache coming on. She hadn’t responded to anything he did, no words or sounds, she just laid in bed staring at nothing. He spent all hours of the day talking to her, reading to her, begging her, just any sign that she would be ok.

He knew he had to be patient but he couldn’t shake the fear that he had condemned her to a fate worse than death. He was willing to accept any price to himself for his deeds but he would have chosen his own death if he knew he was torturing her.

He sighed as he picked up her limp form to take her to the chamber pot. She really was as a newborn and he learned that she would relieve herself in their bed after eating or drinking anything, having felt it happen beside him when he slept. Luckily it had only been urine the first time but it had disturbed him when not even that caused a reaction in her.

He got pretty good at predicting when she would need to go and could clean her up quickly. He only had her wear one of his shirts for the moment, to make it easier for when he holds her over the pot and for cleaning. He was grateful that at least she opened her mouth on her own for eating and drinking after that first day, even if he had to physically feed her.

He had tried feeding her her favorite food, a hearty potato stew from her homeland, hoping it would trigger some form of reaction but to no avail. Now he kept to simple meals but they were running out of ingredients.

He gently placed her back into bed, tucking a short curl behind her ear. He wasn’t used to her having short hair, but her hair had evidently been cut right before her death and so she revived with how it had been last.

He was frowning as he absentmindedly stroked her cheek with his thumb, he had never left her alone before but she couldn’t walk with him to go shopping. Faust plopped down onto the bed from the shelf and cheerfully chirped in his mind, “Watch friend!”

Asra smiled at his familiar and stroked her head with his free hand. “Thank you Faust, I know you’ll do great at watching her.”

Faust cheerfully curled up at Isleen’s blanket covered feet and Asra grabbed his pack to go shopping. The city was somber, both from recovering from the plague still and from the conflicting feelings of Lucio’s death.

At least there was a silver lining in knowing that Isleen was alive and Lucio was just a pile of ashes in the palace.

It didn’t take long for Asra to reach the marketplace and the tantalizing scent of freshly baked pumpkin bread reached his nose. He immediately took a left into the baker’s stall and the plump cheerful man grinned at his entry.

“Asra! Please have a seat, I have a fresh batch that just came out.”

Asra’s lips tilted up into a gentle smile, “I’m afraid that I can’t stay, but I will buy two loafs please.”

The baker winked, “Coming right up.” He quickly wrapped up the loafs and handed them to Asra who paid by healing the older man’s fresh burn scars.

On the way out Asra rubbed the protective charm dangling from the entrance, Isleen’s work. When Asra returned to Vesuvia he found her protective charms all over their neighborhood and adjoining places, hundreds of them. Each charm filled with her magic, to last a year, and he had known that this is likely why she caught the plague in the first place. She used up all her magic to protect others and could no longer protect herself.

The baker stood next to him. “You know, I don’t remember where I got that from but I don’t have the heart to take it down either.”

Asra cocked his head and let the charm fall from his fingertips. “You don’t remember? Do you remember a woman by the name of Isleen?”

The baker thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No, a friend of yours?”

Asra’s smile was strained and he walked away. “I’ll be back soon for more bread, take care.”

As he shopped, he asked around about Isleen and not one person with a charm remembered her. A new life is what the Magician had said and it was clear what that consequence was. There was something tragic in knowing that all these people Isleen had saved no longer remembered her. Suddenly the shop was not hers but his, that it had been him who ran the shop for years. It wasn’t right but he found life never was.

He was troubled and saddened when he made it back to the shop, going upstairs to see Isleen still in the position he left her. Faust slithered up onto his shoulders and squeezed him when he sat on the bed, pulling Isleen’s form to him, her heartbeat his only comfort.

A confession whispered into her hair, “I’m so sorry.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wrong, she felt wrong. Pressure and gravity heavy in her bones, her skin itched and burned with every shift of fabric against her, and even her very breathing felt too intense. Like burning, she was burning.

She took a deep breath and jolted awake, her messy dreams once again scattering away from her and suddenly she felt like she was truly awake.

A strange spicy scent filled her nose causing her throat to burn and she shifted, the heavy feeling in her limbs creaking and she hated it. Her vision was fuzzy and watery as bright colors and lights focused into clarity and there was both a thumping and ringing sound in her ears that caused her to wince.

She took in her surroundings, the scratchy feeling burning her skin as she shifted again. Her eyes physically ached and pulsed at the bright colors and lights invading her vision. A reedy whimper scraped against her throat before turning into even louder sounds of distress, the sound vibrating from her chest. Even that felt wrong and soon her eyes were filled with burning tears as she tried to escape the sharp fabrics around her body.

A loud cry escaped her when she fell onto the ground, her arms radiating pain from the hard impact and now she was sobbing, suddenly unable to take in enough air. Loud thumping noises filled the room before a figure was in her vision, cupping her face and making noises at her. She didn’t understand the sounds even if she wasn’t wailing herself but the hands on her face didn’t hurt like everything else and she clumsily grasped them with her own.

She was scared of all these sensations and not knowing where she was but these hands felt safe, they felt right.

Asra for his part was trying not to panic but also he was overjoyed, something he hadn’t felt since her initial revival. It had been over three weeks since her rebirth and he had been downstairs, having just gotten back from shopping, when her heard her cry and fall out the bed.

He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw her moving, reacting! Of course, concern took the forefront of his emotions when he saw how scared she looked. She was currently clutching his hands to her face and trembling like a leaf.

“Shh, it’s ok Isleen. I’m here, you’re safe.” Her hands weakly squeezed his and he bent to pick her up and placed her back on the bed. She made another distressed sound and kicked the sheets around her while also clumsily tearing at the shirt engulfing her body.

Soon she was naked and curling into a fetal position, her body jolting with hiccups. He immediately crawled in beside her and very firmly but gently put pressure on her body with his hands, remembering how she preferred firm touches to soft, her skin always having been remarkably sensitive.

She started to calm at that and he smiled, taking deep breaths and feeling her soon mimic his pattern subconsciously. After a few more moments of quiet he tried talking to her again.

“Isleen, do you understand me?”

No response but she was at least watching him now, no longer a glassy eyed gaze at nothing. He smiled again, “It’s alright, we can just rest here, you’re safe I promise.”

Even if she couldn’t understand him, he wanted her to know his voice, to know through his cadence that she was safe. She continued to match his breathing pattern which he purposely kept even and soon her eyes grew heavy and he watched as she fell back asleep.