Who: Lotte and Christine {Narrative} What: Operation Field Where: A field When: Day Four of Tempus Plot Warnings: Excessive happiness and fluff.
It wasn’t the end of the headaches or the grass under her feet that made Lotte realize her surroundings had changed – it was the smell. Her eyes pressed shut as she inhaled. Grass, clean fresh air, and the slightly sour smell of animals. There was no death or blood – not even stale, sealed up air. It was clear and she took a deep breath of it, filling her lungs. Mountains perhaps – it was cold enough and bitter enough, in that delicious way that made you feel dizzy.
Lotte let her eyes open, straightening from her crouched position to look around. A field stretched for as far as she could see, bordered only by tall, indistinct shapes upon the horizon. It was empty, aside from a scattering of daffodils, and a handful of sheep grazing here and there. She squinted, a hand rising to shade her eyes. It didn’t make sense that she’d be alone, even if she had been the only one complaining of the travelling-headaches. Christine suggested that they might be off, where those mountains were. Her voice snapped Lotte back to reality and she spun, skirt flaring out around her.
“James?” She couldn’t be alone – she hadn’t been alone before. “Sherri? Marie?” She rattled off names, covering some she hadn’t seen in France, some who had never been a part of Bellum’s madness, some Christine supplied and Lotte didn’t know. At last she fell silent, waiting for a reply that never came. Her spinning stopped, as she took another sharp breath inward. With as much projection as she could managed, she gave a final shout, voice ringing out across the field. “BRAN?”
Nothing. The only sign that it had been heard was the scattering of a few of the sheep that were closer to her.
She fell to her knees, thoughts racing. Why was she alone? It had never been this bad before and she’d never been this isolated – never truly alone before. Christine protested that she was there still and Lotte gave her the closest thing, she could to a hug – a feeling of warmth and gratefulness that did more than words could. They came to the same realization immediately – there weren’t any people to grab and kill them here – it was a safe aloneness she could deal with.
And as Christine pointed out with glee a moment later – no one else was here to take them either.
“Or lie,” Lotte said out loud. “Or think I’m crazy – just for talking to you like this. Or hurt us or guilt us.”
Christine didn’t understand that, something Lotte was already used to. It was alright if she was unaware of it – it was hard not to see people manipulating you everywhere, once you realized you were susceptible to it. Lotte dug her hands into the soil, coming up with a clump of grass and dirt. Real and reliable. She could deal with that.
“We’re fine,” Lotte said, with a surprised laugh. The dirt fell away from her hands as she got to her feet. “We’re fine!” Never mind that they didn’t know when they’d be back – or what to do about shelter or food or water, or her head. Lotte would think about the ‘important’ things later. Her relief mixed with Christine’s glee as she gathered her skirts and ran forward.
A childish whoop escaped her as she raced through. She felt young and alright and most importantly – free. Christine couldn’t keep her thoughts off of it and she pushed at Lotte, until she made it clear she understood. There wasn’t anything here – nothing to guilt them, tie them down, chain them, or lock them away. They could just be and Lotte did just that.
She paused to spin – nothing fancy, as her dance schools had required, just a laughing spin that let her arms swing wide. Her head tilted back as she offered Christine a memory, explaining that she knew what this was like and hadn’t felt it in years. A fair with spinning lights, a magical violin, and the feeling of pure safety. Christine clicked her mental tongue at that – for how similar they were it seemed their definition of freedom was different – (safety didn’t exist in Christine’s, though she understood why Lotte looked for it.) She changed the subject though, before Lotte could press it, speaking in a louder, teasing voice. Sing. I dare you.
Lotte’s spinning slowed, until she was at a standstill as she chewed at her lip. “Should I?” There was the instant fear of getting hurt as she did so. Depression, voices, not sounding right…Christine pushed again. You’re FREE. You should at least know that you’ll feel better once you do sing.
Lotte waited one moment more, mulling over the possibilities before slowly nodding. “You’re right,” she admitted, a hint of a smile crossing your voice. “We are free though. Both of us."
She wiped her hands on her skirts, even though they were dirtier then her hands were. Feet moved forward, stepping to a beat only she and Christine could hear. She took a deep breath, before launching forward, voice rising.
Forty-five minutes later, Lotte was no closer to the horizon but her spirits were high. She and Christine, in between songs, had an animated sicussion over whether “modern” music was any good. Her definition however, was anything past her time – Lotte countered this with that it depended. After Blue Suede Shoes, Bohemian Rhapsody, and a melody of Sondheim, Lotte won the argument with a laugh that sent her rolling to the ground. Christine gave up, good-naturedly, though emitted a slight sigh as Lotte moved to her stomach, picking a set of flowers to add to the chain she’d been creating as they walked.
It took a Lotte a moment to catch her breath, still laughing as she plucked flowers from the ground. She debated Christine’s sigh for a moment, grabbing a dandelion and making a wish. They all scattered in one breath and she considered it a good sign. “If Bran can let Erik out,” she said, slowly. “Can’t I let you have a turn? It seems silly we have to share…but I don’t mind.” Both knew in the hushed silence that Christine needed this more than even Lotte did.
There was that small, mental nod from Christine. Lotte exhaled, hands falling from the daisy chain in her left hand. By the time she had inhaled again, Christine had taken her place. Though she knew the change was coming, it still took her by surprise. She pushed herself to a kneeling position, staring at her hands in muddled surprise. Seeing through her own eyes, rather than Lotte’s was a nice change – and seeing her own hand rather than the other girl’s was a relief as well. Lotte had a small scar on her left thumb, that she didn’t and didn’t wear the ring, which even here, Christine was relieved to have on. It dampened her feeling of freedom for a moment, but she pushed it aside, checking over her clothes. Lotte’s stolen ones weren’t there either – a simple dress from her own wardrobe was worn and her hair was pinned up.
Christine laughed in relief, pulling the pins from her hair. It cascaded down her shoulders and with a final shake, she placed the daisy-chain on her head as a crown. She kicked off her buckled shoes, before being held in her left hand – she didn’t care if she destroyed her stockings. If and when she got back, she’d get new ones though she sincerely hoped, she never would. The only worry was of Raoul, but hopefully he was smart enough to go onto the North Pole.
With a final shout of joy, she skipped forward. Though she knew Lotte couldn’t hear her, she knew could and would remember this later. “Oh thank you, thank you – thank you.”
Ten minutes later, Christine pressed a hand to her forehead as the headaches increased. It wasn’t fair – not when she’d just gotten a chance. (She didn’t blame Lotte, not really – how were they supposed to know how long it was?) She took a deep breath, trying to not feel like she’d faint.
The show must go on, was a phrase she was quite familiar with – as a former alternate she had to be. She took another shaking step forward, continuing to sing, despite the headache killing her. A moment later she vanished, the ridiculous song still at her lips.