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Chapter Text

Prologue

1

In the deep forests south of Yharnam, a crisp snow had fallen for days. Each raven landing made an audible crunch as their feet fell to the ground. Gently, the black birds swarmed until there were twenty or more of them surrounding a pool of crimson. The hot blood wafted steam high into the air. At the center of the newly formed basin knelt a woman.

She wore an intricate and richly tapestried corset, with an emerald brooch emerging from the center of her cape. Her hair, a long braided blonde ponytail, appeared to have been partly submerged as the lower quarter of the length was now stained a deep brownish-red. Her cap of leather appeared as worn and dirt-smudged as her face, which would have otherwise been doll-like. Surrounding her pale blue-green eyes was a dark purplish tint. Maria had not slept in days.

Now, she wept, her rapier tossed aside in the snow. In her arms lie a baby, appearing to have been cut out of herself, a long gash adorned the underside of her now flat midriff; Which was still pushing forth buckets of blood with incrementally less force. The ravens continued to gather in numbers. Maria held her newborn and looked at it with divine adoration and sadness. She kissed the child’s viscera-smeared forehead gently as she picked up her rapier. The birds followed her as ducklings to a mother as she headed toward a sturdy tree. Maria rested beneath the twisting, knotted branches and sobbed gently.

“Oh young one, how am I to bring a being such as you into a world such as this. You have done no act to deserve a taste so bitter.” As she said this her tears dropped like rain from a leaf onto the child’s skin and left streaks of visible, clean flesh in their wake. It looked up at her expectantly, waiting for the next adventure now that one was done.

“Oh my love, you must understand. It is my duty as a mother to ensure you have the best life possible. I have failed for I cannot even give you a life with the most modest of joys. – But how can I be expected to-…”

Maria grew faint, but tightened her grip gently on her child and her rapier. She took in a long, shuddering breath, and held the child close to her breast.

…

In the deep forests south of Yharnam, a shaky, wailing outcry of unadulterated sorrow echoed off each branch. Forty-two crows soared out of the forest, startled as crows trend toward being. More snow tumbled down from branches disturbed in the commotion.

A figure wearing feathers as black as night turned to look in the direction of the lamentation. It began to walk deeper into the trees, elegant and graceful. The figure did not step on any of the many bear traps. Had the figure been here, or perhaps it placed them?

The ravenlike manifestation drew nearer the source of the sound, red-stained moonlight glanced off the figure’s beaklike mask. For the only moonlight in this area now was forced to reflect off the pools of viscera, steaming like a hot spring in the cold air.

Chapter Text

Eileen the crow, adorned with her beaked mask, walked into the clearing where Maria lie slumped against a tree. Eileen felt a stab of empathy as she observed the desolate scene before her. The sight of Maria, bloodied and incised with a look of such despair, stirred something deep within her usually stoic demeanor. As she approached, Eileen's heart ached with a mix of sorrow and determination to offer solace in any way she could. She heard a rattling, like fluid in a lung being artificially inflated. Maria offered naught but a sputtering cough, thick with blood. It was enough. Eileen strode silently nearer the porcelain lady. she knelt beside Maria, her gloved hand gently brushing the woman's pallid cheek. Maria's already shallow breaths grew weaker, her eyes flickered as if searching for something unseen. As if seeing something unseen. Eileen whispered words of comfort, her voice barely audible over the sound of the wind.

"Shush now, and be in still beauty. I'll take care of you. Huntress."

Maria's hand twitched, reaching out as though to grasp something, but finding only air. Eileen lifted her off the ground, draping Maria's legs over her left arm.

"My- My... My B-" Maria gasped, wheezing in agony.

"Be silent now, dear. Your insides will not warm the belly of any beast. Not tonight." Said Eileen, and then quieter: "Not any night."

The Crow Woman carried Maria off, away from the steaming pool of blood, away from the crows which again gathered about it, and away from the baby; newly missing.

...

Maria's recovery in Eileen's home was slow but steady. Blood transfusions restored her strength gradually, but the memory of that horrific night lingered. She often woke up in a cold sweat, haunted by visions of the crows and the missing baby whose face had already become formless and so unlike her own. Despite her physical improvement, the emotional scars ran bone deep.

In the waking world she was greeted by Eileen. Sometimes she was given a transfusion. These always made the nightmares worse, and the process was like having a flame pushed through one's veins like a hole in a dam. Eileen's comforts could only do so much, and eventually she resigned to simply sit a great distance away and give encouragement from afar, on account of Maria's flailing about. Once Maria had been gripped by such suffering she knocked down a beautiful landscape painting by Eileen herself. It suffered a small tear as it landed on Maria's bedside dagger.

"Oh Eileen," Maria blushed, "I am so foolish, I cannot even lift that dagger and yet... your art."

"Come now." Eileen brought her chair beside Maria and began gently combing Maria's white blonde hair. "It is a paltry thing, a painting from years ago. And-" She looked over to the floor where the painting lie. "Of yet, almost undamaged."

Other times Eileen fed her a broth or a stew, and Maria felt that comfort quite tangibly. Initially, Eileen would spoon the broth gently between Maria's lips. Until she regained the strength to lift the spoon, albeit shakily. Despite the intimacy of the situation, Maria and Eileen did not speak very much. They merely spoke of Maria's improving condition, and Eileen's voice began to wane of the birdsong timbre it once had. Maria, determined to bridge the vast chasm between herself and the woman who saved her, mustered the courage to speak candidly one evening as they sat opposite oneanother for yet another stew in the kitchen of Eileen's estate.

"Eileen," Maria began softly as pungent candles flickered soft yellow light upon the pair, her voice carrying fragile hope. "You've been my anchor of this storm. You have carried me aloft so well I have nearly recovered. In a physical sense, at least. Please, if you would only let me see the face of this one who selflessly saved me."

Eileen hesitated, the silence thick with unspoken fears, but Maria pressed on, "I need to know the person behind the mask, the one who's so swiftly become my only solace." Eileen's gaze flickered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maria, I... I can't." The words hung heavy in the air, weighed down with a sorrow Maria couldn't yet comprehend. "Seeing me might not bring the solace you seek." Maria's heart clenched, but she nodded, understanding the unspoken truth Eileen couldn't bear to reveal.

Maria stood, her hair now pinned back. Thin strips of moonlight played across the left of the gown she wore, and candlelight across the right of it. Both pierced the thin material, and gave way to her entire form. Eileen could not help but watch Maria slowly move toward her. Her gaze wandered from Maria's soft willowy abdomen adorned with stretch marks, to her breasts. Maria's elegant, shapely breasts. As Maria drew closer and closer Eileen watched the subtle movements Maria’s body made. The ripple of her thighs, the sway and occasional gentle bounce of her blush-pink nipples, her stomach whose flutter at the end of each step made Eileen think incredible and awful and lovely and perfect things.

Eileen's knee connected with the table sharply as Maria stood next to her own chair. She wrapped her arms around Eileen's neckline and drew her into a gentle embrace. "Eileen, thank you for saving me." She trailed up and down slowly along the length of Eileen's neck with a pleasantly cold nose. Eileen thought for a moment about removing the mask just to know how this sort of feminine touch felt further up,

and further down.

Maria pulled back just enough to look through the eyes of Eileen's mask and straight into her eyes, dripping with what may have been an entirely new emotion. "Nothing beneath that mask would make me appreciate you less."

With that she walked down the connecting hallway to her bedroom, not noticing Eileen's struggle to extend her hand in Maria’s direction, and not noticing her vain attempt to call out in a whisper for one more moment of warmth from her patient. Her companion.

Maria removed the thin, soft gown she had been given by Eileen once her wound finally ceased weeping. She draped it over the chair in front of the rosewood vanity table. It matched the intricate bedframe. Maria climbed under the black silk sheets, and the very moment her head hit the pillow she was asleep.

She dreamed she walked quietly into the kitchen area for water. Eileen still sat at the dining table. As Maria stared, Eileen removed her cloak. Putting it atop the feather garb which already graced the back of her chair. Eileen was only covered by the mask and a black lace bustier corset. Maria spotted movement and watched as Eileen slid her hand up her own body, feeling it as though unfamiliar, and reached the lower portion of the beak mask. She pulled upward and it loosened, sliding up and then gently to the floor. It seemed to coast along Eileen’s curled black hair. Maria’s breath hitched, the dream would not allow her to see the face of her friend. She tried to focus, tried to go nearer. No matter the means, Eileen’s entire visage was blurred. Maria was so focused the barely noticed the bustier fall to the floor. Eileen’s generous and sumptuous chest was now fully open to her. As Eileen caressed downward, now that the mask had been addressed, to address her breasts. Maria thought well, they are lovely, it’s only appropriate and watched in absolute awe. Beholden now not only to the dream but too her own desire. As Eileen spread her legs Maria flashed awake, panting and sweating.

Maria rolled onto her back, flushed. She could feel a familiar heavy feeling between her own thighs, accompanied by a dampness of a volume quite unlike any she had felt before. She reached down to feel, the sheets clinging to her legs in protest.

Pushing back her dining chair, Eileen put two fingers to the wet middle of her underwear. She felt the warmth and dampness spread a little further outward to her voluminous, quivering thighs as she spasmed with pleasure at her own touch.

As her hand finally reached its destination Maria gasped. She shook with a rapturous excitement as she placed her pointer and middle fingers on her clit. She moved her fingers tenderly up and down, luxuriating in the dewy comfort of her own passion.

Eileen’s panties fell to the floor

The sensation began as almost overwhelming, she could not recall the last time she had touched herself. As that feeling faded she desperately picked up speed like it was an addiction in need of maintenance. She was fighting to keep her breathy moans flowing out.

Eileen, fingers pressed against the upper wall of her vagina, had to cover her own mouth to deafen her moans.

Her hands and arms and legs shook vigorously as the tension above and around her entrance became nearly unbearable.

Eileen’s fingers moved slowly in and out of herself, wetter with each cyclical motion, until finally she gasped and gripped the table with white knuckles. She shuddered once with a small groan. Then she shuddered again, one long string of fluid fell almost silently to the floor, leaving a tiny puddle under her chair.

Maria let out an audible gasp and subsequent squeal as her wetness flowed out now, soaking the sheets and her hand. Her clit throbbed and ached as she felt her vagina stretch and contract in lockstep with her quivering aftershocks. For some time she simply lay there, heaving. Then Maria slept once again, cosmically satisfied.