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"Lucky." The witch mumbled with a good deal of hurt in her voice. "I was there with her until the very end... I saw the laboratory, the chamber they put her in... Even the lights. I felt her hands break against the glass as she tried to escape. And she just... She just died. Right there, and no one cared."
The suddenness of Melusine's pain caught Belladonna off guard and she had to take a deep breath to clear the memories. Yet her pain worsened at Mort's thought on the whole subject. How could he be so callous? So... Flippant?
Yet he still used her death as fuel to hate the Hunters. So was that better, or worse?
"I don't think I could ever forget Melusine... It was so strange to die as another person and be dead for real."
The very thought sent a chill through the witch and she scooted closer to Mort, her eyes downcast.
All of this had become so convoluted, so ridiculous. Why was it happening? The Hunters were angry over Human deaths and that was justification enough to destroy others?
But what about Halloweentown and the Four Clans? What exactly were they doing to the Hunters? Wasn't it just a snake eating its own tail?

The flickering lights completely drove the thoughts from the witch's head and she waited until Mort was done stitching his hand (she would have offered her help, but she wanted to see what stitches he put in first so she would know for next time) before she fully crawled into his lap.
"Ooohhh~ Storm rides are such fun! You've got to dodge the lightening and debris if its windy!" Belladonna chirped happily, but quickly lost her resolve at his face. "You shouldn't suggest things you don't want. Storm rides are the worst. Hair gets all mussed up and you have to wear a hat that ties under your chin, and its just ugh! You get all wet and gross and leaves all over. Bleck." A tongue was stuck out to show her disgust, but the witch quickly swiveled her emotions to be something close to clingy.

"I'd rather stay here a bit more... I'm not particularly hungry and if I do get hungry, I'll just eat around the meat!" She told him as she hugged him close. Yes, yes she wanted to cuddle and kiss and keep her clothes on.
"Ooohh! Since its storming, we should tell scary stories!" Here Belladonna threw the blanket over their collective heads and summoned the smallest of sparks in the palm of her hand so that their faces were lit up all yellow and gold. "Don't worry, its not a fire. Just a light source."
With a devious smile the witch raised her eyebrows in a suggestive manner and whispered in her scariest voice, "You wanna go first, or me?"

If things had been different, if they had been reversed and it was Belladonna who bore the mark and the task and the threat of repeatedly dying, would she be able to handle it? Just the fact that she had died twice, once for real and the first just momentarily, had completely shaken her. Still she was a fractional creature, not what she once was. So what was she to do, should be chosen for something similar to Mort's? Should she solider on as well, or should she fight the system and find another path entirely?
All thoughts were dissipated with the kiss to her head, as Belladonna snuggled in closer, acting the scareling quite perfectly. At his words, she nodded thoughtfully and took a breath.
"You're right." It would do nobody any good to continually be saddened by a girl no one remembered. Instead, the witch would burn the memory of Melusine into her heart, so that she carried the vampire with her forever. But she would let everything else go, let it flutter with the wind and be put to rest. She wouldn't forget Melusine, but she'd instead let it fan her flames to fight harder. To change what had been wronged so nothing like that happened again.

OK so maybe the little spark was a bit of a fire, but just the smallest, tiniest bit like a fire. But she wasn't going to tell him that, because she already had the spark under control and didn't need him freaking out over. Nope, nope, nope.
"OoOoOoOoOoOooohhh!!" The witch replied with one hand wiggling in her spookiest manner. The other was holding the faux-flame, but she was loathe to leave the blanket's warmth.
"There's plenty to do without tech, you know. Read a book, draw a picture or paint, sew clothing, organize your closet, clean one's room, go outside and dance in the rain." She could have kept going, but she kept it short, just for him.
"OK. OK, my turn. Have you heard about... My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic?" For dramatic effect, the spark grew a little brighter, not anywhere near a flame, but it quickly shrunk to just a small sputter. Because that show was damn scary. All bright colors and morals and blargghhh.

"Because you have done it much, I'm sure." Belladonna countered, in a playfully peevish voice. Occasionally magical families were old fashioned and refused to allow technology entire their homes, as magic served just as well. Thankfully Belladonna's family wasn't like this, but they certainly were a little behind the times. If it weren't for their daughter, Papa and Mother Divine might not have any new technology.
"What? Never danced in the rain?"
What a strange idea!
Well, maybe it wasn't... Not everyone had the connection to nature, especially not zombies. There weren't aligned with water, but some usually didn't mind. Weird...

"No, no, no, friendship isn't a magic type, its a human show--" But Belladonna stopped short and laughed instead. Scary stories were overrated anyways. Here she leaned in a little, sure to keep the spark away from Mort. "Being a boilfriend is the most special kind of magic."
Well, next to being married, of course. Or true love. Shut up brain!
"Boilfriends can swoop in an save the day, or they can give the witch just enough power to defeat the bad guys." She was close enough to kiss and her little spark was sputtering wildly, unsure whether to go out totally or burst into a full on flame.

Awful? Pish! Tosh! It was so easy to dance! Just shake one's hips in time with the music and flail your hands, easy. But Belladonna wouldn't push it. Maybe in a few she'd pull him into a dance, restart the mixtape and have a bit of fun, but for now she'd let it go with only a tilted smile that said she didn't believe him one bit.
As for the little spark, Belladonna was starting to feel it heat up on her palm, but unwilling to let go of it just yet, she instead gently closed her fingers around it so that its bright rays leaked out and still lit their little hidden world. She took a deep breath and steadied the spark, glad for magic but more glad for this tiny moment of happiness.

"Good!" She replied in the same half-whisper, her pink eyes dancing with the fragmented light. "I'd hate to do all that work by myself. Besides, I'll need all the help I can get. Those bad guys can sure be pesky." Here she interjected a laugh, but it was so true. Things just kept getting worse and she wasn't sure who to trust anymore. "Plus, usually the Heroine has friends she can rely on and I don't really have a lot of those." Not anymore at least. Not really. But it was such a sad thought that she shrugged quickly and carried on with her little speech. Where was this going anyways? "And you'd look awfully... Attractive in hero gear, I'm quite certain." Her hesitation on the word wasn't for any dramatic effect other than the reddening of her cheeks. Was it ok to call him that? It wasn't a push to call him that?
"And I would think something was wrong with you if you didn't try to jump in and save the day, at least a little. You are quite the Knight in Shining Armor."
And then something far away in the witch's brain clicked.
Of course! He was always acting the Death Knight, always wanting to help save the day and keep those weaker than him, those susceptible to pain and strife safe. But what did that make Belladonna? As much as she wanted to be the Queen, she knew that wasn't her. Not because she couldn't fill that role, but because a certain high ranking Clanswoman had already put herself in that spot, had already given Mort the tools he could use to achieve his heroics. So what was Belladonna? Only one of those maidens who waves her handkerchief at the Knight, but who is ultimately lost in the glory the Queen bestows?

Both hands came together in an attempted clap, but failed because one hand still cupped the little spark. Belladonna looked down at her traitorous hands, but looked back up at Mort and nodded.
"I would like to meet your friends! Mei? Hhmmm, that sounds familiar... She's not a broken doll, is she?" Or maybe that was another Mei she was thinking of? Back in first year, at a Poker Party that had dissolved into a fuzzy haze of giggles and cards? She couldn't be sure, so she pushed it away and hoped she didn't sound crazy.
Oh yeah! Dance! Dance! Belladonna had to remember not to forget that Mort still owed her a dance or two. So maybe they had danced a little outside at Prom, but it was fun enough that she wanted to try again.

Softly her mouth opened to say something, but ended up stuck in a soft "Oh" as she was reminded of her cravat comment. Now that she had a visual, the witch's face flushed more and her "oh" turned into its own devilish smile, though a little far away and wistful.
"I think I remember that particular comment..." She murmured as she dropped her eyes to their laps, unprepared to face that grin of his head on. It was too much for her own good, and certainly not going to do him any good with that whole 'Let's keep our clothes on!' thing.
A rumble of thunder reminded the witch of the storm outside, and trying to distract herself, she let the little spark grow brighter, increasing the light as well as the shadows under the blanket. The light played tricks and made everything look like a sunset, what with the bright red of her hair playing off the blue of his skin. What with the blackness of the blanket, it could have very well been dawn with the bright pumpkin sun rising all red and bloody against a slowly bluing sky.

As for her fairytale metaphor the witch had been pondering, maybe there was a role for her after all. Often times there was a sorceress, or a fairy, or some magical woman who granted favors and helpful hints to the hero. Perhaps this woman didn't necessarily woo the Knight, or was even wooed by him, but she was always there. She always swooped in and gave him the edge he needed to win. Belladonna could do that.
The witch could provide what she could to her Knight, she could lift him up or give him hints or even gift him the pleasure of a peaceful night's sleep. Anything that would make his journey better. She would choose her own path, separate from his, but so close they nearly overlapped.
So what if the Knight didn't date the Sorceress? They could write their own story with their own rules and their own ending, where they got to ride off into the sunset together and live scarily ever after.

A dopey grin now graced the witch's face at her own imagined fairytale and she chanced a bashful smile up at Mort.
"I can't be the Queen, but can I at least be the pretty Sorceress who helps the Death Knight on his quest?" She chanced in a soft voice, more tender and vulnerable than she had expected. The spark in her hand flickered uncertainly, ready to be swayed by whatever he replied with.

The witch shook her head, definitely not the same girl.
"Don't know her, I'm afraid. But paper on her forehead to animate things? That sounds rather convenient!" Not that Belladonna couldn't just snap her fingers and make a book waddle its way over to her, but still. Not everyone was that lucky, so she had to be considerate and compliment others where she could. That and she didn't really have anything else to say about Mei, as she didn't know her and couldn't judge for herself.
The witch wished could remind Mort that talking was all well and good, so long as it was eventually backed up by actions. But, that whole minding reading thing hadn't materialized just yet.

The lack of immediate agreement made Belladonna's heart drop for a few moments as she was sure Mort would reject this idea. Maybe he had already formed the opinion that she could only be the damsel in distress? (That wasn't very Mort-like, but there wasn't much the witch could do in the split second of fear she experienced.) But then... Oh...
"Well, yes but--" She let him finish, her lips pursed in mid-sentence. Well, yes she could very well be whatever she wanted, but well... Hmph. He was rather right it being their story, wasn't he?
Loathe as she was to admit that he was almost always right, Belladonna nodded softly.
"As I am not quite ready to be married, I think I shall stick with being a Magical Sorceress Princess. Though it isn't necessary to combine the words, thank you though, my darling Death Knight." She giggled idly at the idea, her mind already racing to think of an outfit she could wear for such a thing, all long trains of black silk and pink jeweled corsets. And mmmm, Mort in knightly wear, maybe not the clanking kind, but certainly a long flowing black cape he could use to wrap her up in and aaahhhh~
Belladonna's face returned to its lovely red shade, her eyes a little hazy as she leaned forward for a relatively innocent kiss. She could control this little flame, she could control her passions.

The little spark in the witch's hand warmed a great deal at his kiss, to the point that Belladonna had to actually concentrate on not letting it burn her, instead of on the kiss. Which was a shame because it was rather excellent and the witch's poor heart had done quite a few somersaults during the whole thing. But alas! It was not meant to be (yet), for Mort pulled away just as Belladonna considered actually letting herself (and her little flame) go, and thus saved her some burns. Both physically and most likely metaphorically.
"Oh, please~ The castle needs some scandal. Its been altogether too quiet lately. You know the servants love a good gossip." She winked at him before she looked up at the blanket and giggled in a conspiratorial manner.
This was really too much fun. All Belladonna had ever wanted was to be a princess, a gothic daughter of royalty where she could flounce around in fluffy skirts, run through gardens of dead roses and not have to do much except be pretty and perhaps do a bit of magical studying here and there.
The fact that Mort was indulging this fantasy, in any way shape or form, was incredibly endearing to the witch to the point of her having fuzzies all over her heart.

"Well if you court me then it won't ruin my name! Just because we meet for a secret kiss or two won't destroy my reputation."
It was just everything else that would.
"I think the storm is over, I haven't heard any thunder lately..." The witch mused, unsure of how much longer Mort wanted to play at being a Knight.
Her free hand reached up to look out into the room, as though that would give any indication of how the storm outside was going.
Just as the blanket fell from their heads to rest on their collective shoulders, with a small snap, the lights went out and a grand rumble that nearly shook the room sounded.
Whoopsie...

For a moment, Belladonna only sat staring into the darkness, her eyes blinking slowly as she waited for her sight to adjust to the sudden darkness. Already the temperature was dropping, much to the witch's dismay, but she only heaved a sigh and leaned a bit further back from Mort. Slowly, so as not to worry him with sudden movements, Belladonna brought her hands together over her lap, releasing her fingers over the spark so that she could cup her hands together. With the spark now happily dancing over her palms, she took another deep breath in, wherein the spark shrank considerably. Yet she opened her eyes and slowly released the breath and the spark grew until it became a small, floating flame in her hands.
"Sorry about that... And this." She told him, with a small upward motion of her hands to mean the little flame. It didn't get much higher than the tips of her cupped fingers, but Belladonna still kept it close. It was warm and fluttering and it wasn't like she could cuddle with Mort while he was getting his electricity on anyways.

While Belladonna listened to Mort, she leaned back against the wall and brought her knees up, to further leech warmth from her little fire. The storm outside sounded pretty icky, so there wasn't really anything that would further incline her to leave the safety of this room. Plus Mort was here! And not out in the storm.
"Would you mind if I stayed a bit longer? At least until it slows down enough that I can borrow a broom from the supplies closet upstairs and fly back to my dorm?" Though her face was cast in an orange-yellow glow, Belladonna gave him her best 'please don't kick me out' smile and even batted her lashes.
"I promise to keep my fire to myself... Or even put it out. Whichever!"
As for the cold, her hands were nice and toasty, so there wasn't much worry about that. Plus, it wasn't like she was going to ask to stay the night or anything. As much as Belladonna wanted to be there for Mort, it was certain he still needed his space. At least a little bit of it.