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tu-sugar-mami · 2 years

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The things that could have been (1/3)

You can read part 2 here

Tags: fluff, tooth rotting fluff and so much love, They're married but they don't know it

Warnings: angst, not happy ending and Donna is going to suffer, don't read I just wrote this out of lack of sleep

3,762 words

As always Tumblr mobile won't let me cut this

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There was a time where you promised yourself you wouldn't fall for anyone again. Teaching yourself to not be weak against the human desire to find the other half of the soul, for many years you lived prived of any temptations and pushing away anyone who got too close to you. However, despite all your efforts at protecting yourself from the sharp shattered pieces of a failed love, the thick walls around your guarded heart crumbled when you met a certain lady.

Donna Benevento, the matriarch of the only manor at the top of the hill and one of the four Lords ruling over the land. Donna, sweet Donna, was the one whose tender care and delicious food managed to snatch away the vines that you had forced on your heart, and deep inside you knew that it had to be her. No one but Donna.

It all started on an afternoon just like any other. Returning from the forest with a load of freshly chopped wood strapped to your back and your mind wondering what you would have for dinner, you noticed a tall figure waiting outside of your shop. It didn't take you long to discover the only Lord that liked to stroll freely on the village leaning on the doorstep. A mischievous grin graced his lips, and his head tilted playfully to the side before he greeted you, with a hand -a little too harshly- landing on your shoulder.

From his jacket, Lord Heisenberg drew a slightly crumpled envelope and handed it to you. The hand on your shoulder refrained you from taking a step back, instead the grip becoming slightly stronger and forcing you to take the paper with trembling hands, not that you could refuse it anyway, doing so would be a death sentence. When the Lord walked away without any word of explanation, the smirk never leaving his features, you felt the air finally returning to your lungs and your hands stopped shaking. The Lords always meant trouble.

As frightening as the encounter was, you thought later that day, it was even more suspicious that Lord Heisenberg himself would do the delivery instead of sending a courier, but yet again, do any of them really need a reason to do the things they do? Not that is your business anyway.

The wax seal on the envelope was one that you recognized only after rummaging through the mess in your mind, finally managing to identify it as the House Beneviento crest. Humming in thought, you recalled that said Lord didn't have that much presence -aside from rumors- in the village as the other three, probably the reason you struggled to remember that the crest belonged to her.

Hands worked quickly to release the seal and examine the light brown envelope contents. To your surprise, it was a letter requesting your woodworking services, saying a new customized desk was needed in the manor, and urged you to visit the estate to start with the project as soon as possible. There was no one more qualified to do the job than you, you knew, not after some rather unfortunate events regarding the displeasure of one Lady Dimitrescu left you and your apprentice as the only carpenters left in the village, so in a way you had this coming.

Resigned to your fate, you found yourself the next day with a journal, pen and measurement tools in your satchel ready to venture up the dangerous path in the forest, the thought of escaping the village altogether becoming more tempting by the second.

Of course you had heard many stories, mostly rumors, about the lonely woman living in the house next to the waterfall, and to be honest, who hadn't? The village was so small that gossip spread like wildfire and not even the subject being a Lord could deter the villagers' loose mouths.

During the trip your stomach kept churning due to your nerves, and your mind spiraled in a current of displeasing thoughts. Would you run the same ending as your late comrades if the Lord didn't like your work? At least, you reassured yourself, your apprentice was a quick learner and the young boy had talent, were anything to happen you knew the village would at least have him.

The journey was long and tiresome, but gave you plenty of time to think. What was Lady Beneviento like? It was dangerous to follow the train of thought when most of the stops ended in bad scenarios for you, but you couldn't stop from wondering. There's one thing you were sure about though, whatever happened, you'd be courteous and respectful, but wouldn't stoop to the level of fanatism as the other villagers. The way they fought each other to compliment and pray to Mother Miranda whenever she happened to pass by always disgusted you.

After the bumpy ride on the moving metal box (what a magical thing, convenient but frightening nonetheless, you thanked the dark god that it wasn't hard to figure out how to use it) you stopped for a moment, both to regain your composure and gather enough courage to hype yourself up, though when you finally looked up and your eyes stumbled upon the towering estate –a beautiful, if slightly unattended, old manor that looked embedded into the mountain itself– your first steps on the porch became hesitant; no one could assure you that you wouldn't fall victim to the horrors that awaited in house Beneviento. Maybe it was because of the accumulated anxiety, but you swore the knocking on the door sounded thunderous, even with the roaring waterfall just next to the cliff to muffle it.

The Lady, it turned out, was unlike any of the things you heard about her.

There wasn't any overwhelming fear taking over your body just by being in her presence, no feeling of your sanity slipping away from your mind, and you weren't sensing that imminent danger feeling while she led you through her home. Were you a bit wary? Yes, a little afraid even, but who wouldn't be knowing that the woman in front of you was one of the village rulers. Whether she looked the part or not, the Lady had power, and the thought of her using said power on you made you jumpy, hence the hesitation in your stride.

She was… strange, but as far as you could tell she wasn't blinded by bloodlust like Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters were, and she didn't inspire that fear that ushered you to bow to her either. In fact, Lady Beneviento was kind of… awkward?, but not in a bad way, no. Her movements were stiff, and you weren't sure if she was scared of scaring you, or she just wasn't used to dealing with another person's presence.

You noted her nervousness for sure, if her constantly fidgeting fingers, fists clenching the fabric of her skirt, and uncomfortably straight posture were any indication.

You had yet to hear her voice, but Angie, her doll who almost gave you a heart attack when she received you at the door, was doing an excellent job at keeping the conversation flowing. The doll even noticed your amazement towards the lamps and was kind enough to show you the wonders of modern day technology , introducing you to the concept of something called 'electricity'.

Listening to Angie talking nonstop made you wonder if the Lady felt lonely, with no one but herself and her dolls to keep her company all the way up there. Then again, there wasn't really anyone with enough courage to try and talk to a Lord, much less having a death wish to try and dare being friendly with one of them, more so with the wild rumors going from mouth to mouth in the village. It must have been hard for her, not to be able to form a friendship with those she was obligated to rule over, the same people who talked about her behind her back. Perhaps that was why her movements were that way, because -and you briefly wondered if she would have your head for wrongly assuming- she was afraid of frightening away someone that has spoken to her and Angie somewhat normally after such a long time. The mere thought brought a heavy weight on your heart, but alas, who were you to voice your unwelcome concerns to her?

You made it an hour into the house without being driven insane and, blissfully unaware of the chain of events that would follow, you found yourself in the living room sharing your takes on the new desk design with Angie and making adjustments with subtle nods of approval from Lady Beneviento, all while munching on the cookies that said Lady was kind enough to offer you along with some tea; a tea that had been delightful with the perfect amount of sugar for your tastes, before a misstep of Angie got the cup to spill on your chest. The liquid wasn't all that hot by the time the incident happened but you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a disappointed whine, both for staining the only somewhat presentable shirt you owned and for wasting a perfectly good drink. The Lady spur into action, ready to dab the excess liquid with a handkerchief but stopping a few inches from actually touching you when she realized exactly where the tea had splashed onto.

Of course your button up had to be white, and she, a poor sapphic woman, was only barely human. Her eye stopped against her will on your now very visible cleavage, and her face quickly painted a dark crimson before she tried to stare straight (straight, she tells herself) at your beautiful eyes instead.

Unable to find her own, your gaze roamed over the black fabric of her veil for what felt like an eternity, none of you moving, none of you daring to say anything and the atmosphere becoming awkward by the second. Just as you tried to cough to ease the tension, Angie yelled something and the Lady, startled and with a yelp of her own, shoved her fist still with the handkerchief hard against your chest (with a strength you wouldn't address to someone like her, but again looks can be deceiving) effectively punching the air out of you and at the same time pushing you backwards along with the chair.

Of course you did your best to wheeze laugh it off from the ground. It was just a silly incident, right? The quickly forming bruise on your chest didn't bother you that much anyway.

Lady Beneviento was grateful you couldn't see her embarrassed grimace. Angie was delighted and amused.

You ended that day with a new pale purple satin shirt that hugged your frame suspiciously well. In Angie's words; an apology present for ruining your clothes and possibly injuring your ribs.

Though to a villager struggling to survive the day without the convenience of electrical home heating -just like any other- a fabric as fine as the satin you were gifted was outrageous to even dream to own, and you felt the necessity to give something in return. Of course you didn't have riches or anything remotely similar to the value of the shirt, but you had skills and plenty of time. So, for a carpenter, what better to give than something crafted by your own hand?

Back at the Beneviento estate you had noticed the vast amount of books that packed the shelves. The lady did strike you as someone intelligent, someone that enjoyed an afternoon tea with a good book. You had noticed the worn couch next to the window on the corner, that gave you an idea…

The next day, just after discussing the materials and sizes for the new furniture, you hesitantly asked for the Lady's palm. You were sure it was an imposition, but surprisingly she agreed and held her hand out for you, expectantly. You placed a small wooden box adorned with a simple dark green bow on her hand and waited.

The gasp that followed was so soft that you could have missed it if your anxiety didn't keep your senses on edge.

Inside the box there was a flat bouquet of flowers with the Beneviento name engraved in golden paint on the bottom, sturdy but no bigger than the half of her hand. The design was beautifully intricate, and the Lady could recognize it as the flower that grew wildly in her garden. The same flower whose pollen she could use to induce her hallucinations. When did you have time to do that? She was positive that the day before was the first time you saw them. That could only mean that you spent the rest of your evening and probably a good part of the early morning finishing it.

The realization hit her as her fingers traced over the carved patterns.

It was a bookmark.

No one, besides perhaps Alcina and on rare occasion Mother Miranda, had been so considerate as to gift her such a valuable present. This particular one though, valuable not for the materials it was made of, but because of the meaning, the intent it posed. Gratefulness.

The bookmark was very thoughtful of you, and a delicate dew blurred her sight for a second. If only Donna had been brave enough, she would have thanked you herself that very second, though it was Angie who voiced her gratitude…

If after that day you found yourself slacking on the assignment and instead spending more time with the Lady, well, could anyone really blame you when Lady Beneviento was so nice to spend time with? It didn't matter to you that taking more than two weeks on a single piece spoke badly of your work professionalism, not when the company was delightful and the ridiculously yummy food made up for the strange look on the villagers faces.

As for Donna, she had what she had been prived of for years. A true friend.

Donna found someone who finally understood her. Wouldn't the garden look better with some more color? Yes! Donna was thinking the same for ages. Could that main character in the book have avoided all that trouble if they had done this or that? Absolutely! Donna was sure all the drama could have been spared but she recognized it was for the sake of the plot. Didn't the food need something else, a bit more flavor perhaps? Of course! Donna was delighted to learn you enjoyed well seasoned food, not to brag but that was her specialty due to her Italian heritage. Things she mostly disagreed with her siblings or even Angie, you understood and took her side, not because you had to, but because you had said so before she even said anything. Not that she had to say anything, in such little time you had been so observant that you could read the lady like an open book despite her lack of speech.

Though, if you were honest, you adored when she spoke out loud her thoughts.

The Lady's voice was always delightful to listen to. The softness of it when she first talked to you and offered you to spend the night made a tinge of electricity trail from your neck to your lower back. You learned to love that strong tint it had when she got excited and accidentally switched to her first tongue. And you absolutely adored how husky her voice sounded after hours of reading out loud and commenting on a specially good book.

As the weeks went by, even Angie had grown fond of the perky and sometimes strange carpenter. The doll loved how hard you could make Donna laugh, and not just the quiet and almost disheartened laughter she was used to, no, the kind that made Donna's belly hurt and face go red. The first time it happened had been when, kneading some dough on the kitchen counter, you made and absentminded comment on how slap-able the village baker's bald spot on his head was and it took both the Lady and Angie by surprise to have the former howling in laughter in that house for the first time since before Miranda even came to the village.

Angie wouldn't admit it out loud but she was happy you stumbled upon them. She hadn't felt her Don-Don smile that much in ages, let alone have someone Donna felt comfortable enough to use her own voice with. It was… nice, to have the house alive with afternoon chats over tea or lessons on Italian cooking. It felt like an actual home once again.

It took you another two weeks to finish the first intended piece. A desk that by all means was beautiful: Sturdy, wide, embellished with carved details and some silver accents made with the help of the local blacksmith.

The day of the final touches was odd. Maybe it was your imagination but it seemed the Lady was talking about anything and everything but the desk, just like yourself. You knew what it meant to have it finally finished: No more excuses to visit, no more afternoon teas, no more discussing the latest chapter of the book you picked for the day, no more movies in the Lady's projection room, no more reasons to see each other…

It was with a pouch full of lei and a heavy cloud over you, that you found yourself at the doorstep, preparing to leave for good and stop seeing who had been your salvation from the cold and gloomy days in the village.

Donna could tell that it was as hard for you as it was for her to part ways, and a shimmer of hope glistened in her eye as you slightly leaned forward with a sad smile on your lips and your arms starting to make space for her. She was full on intending to take your offer for the incoming hug -something she would never allow if it were to be anyone other than you-, but as quickly as the motion came something flickered in your face. Something that she, regrettably, knew very well.

Fear .

After all, Donna was Lord…

The reminder that this gentle woman could destroy you with a snap of her fingers (that first time you visited and she effortlessly sent you and the chair tumbling to the floor was proof) if she so wished shot through your mind like a lightning bolt, and forced your arms to slack down at your sides.

Lady Beneviento was one of the four Lords ruling over the land. Of course it wouldn't be okay for you to hug her, or treat her as an equal, at that. She was way above you and you needed to show respect… or that was what your mother's words had taught you since you were a kid. To be honest, it was easy to lose track of that authority she held when all you had seen from the Lady was her kind side. You were taught very well too, to not mistake kindness for weakness or mercy and you knew better. Everyone in the village knew better. Wanting to hug her before your departure only showed you had gotten way too comfortable in the wolf's den.

It was well known that the Lords and Mother Miranda herself weren't exactly human. They had been overseeing the village since probably before you were born, but every passing year they all looked the same. Whether it was immortality by divinity or a demonic pact you didn't know and sure as hell wouldn't go about asking. Alas, the four were a force to be reckoned with in their own unique ways, but Lady Beneviento had always been a mystery even for the most experimented, older villagers. As always, people tended to fear the unknown.

And yeah, Lady Beneviento didn't shred you or drive you mad in the time you spent in her estate, but that didn't mean you should test your luck and overstep her boundaries.

With a formal curtsy, like you were taught to do since very young, you thanked her for the opportunity she gave you and closed the door, unknowingly leaving behind a Lady with a heavy heart.

Your sadness didn't last long though, for a few days after, when you returned from an especially harsh battle with the weather inclemencies in the forest, you found yet another letter with a familiar sigil waiting for you at the hands of the same metal Lord.

You didn't know, but it was thanks to a little birdie named Angie nagging the living cadou out of Donna that the Lady gave in to her doll's demands to make Karl call you once again. Those last days had felt so dull without you, and even when she denied it, your constant visits had become an important part of her day to the point where she would eagerly wait for your arrival with a fresh tray of baked goods and a new idea to spend the afternoon. She hoped you agreed to return.

Back at your cabin, the envelope was held in your fingers, your eyes scanned over a text similar to the last one, and you sighed. Those days by yourself had opened your eyes to something that, with the right company, was very easy to forget. It was only a month and half spent at the Beneviento manor, but it was clear that it had been enough to spark something in you. An unwelcome feeling had started to blossom within you and you felt… scared. If you went back you'd grow even more accustomed to the Lady's presence, you'd get more and more comfortable with her, and that was dangerous. The time you spent with the Lady had been, for the lack of a better word, marvelous. You knew you were enjoying yourself too much, and that comfortableness was something you needed to stay away from, but at the same time, that warmth was addictive and it lured you like a moth to a flame.

You already received distasteful stares and occasional comments from the villagers, if you were summoned again by the lady… Well, you didn't want people to think you were being all buddy-buddy with one of the Lords. It wouldn't end well, you believed, or maybe that inner voice was just you trying to find excuses.

After finishing your long gone cold coffee, you let out a long, tired sigh and went to find the tools to put in your satchel.

#donna beneviento x female reader #donna beneviento #my fic #re8 #donna beneviento x reader #mentioned alcina dimitrescu #re8 donna

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