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The Workbench in the Dollhouse	By : KnaveOfDiamonds Category: +S through Z > Shadow Hearts Views: 1877 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Shadow Hearts, or any of the characters from it, a fact that I am sure makes a great many people feel at ease. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Workbench in the Dollhouse
- 2-An Epilogue, of Sorts
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That was the last of it. The house had been painstakingly repaired by the best workers she could afford. During the reconstruction it had been investigated by a firm that specializes in such things and thoroughly exorcised by someone she’d initially passed off as some kind of quack oracle. Much of her funds had been soaked up by this, but she had enough to get by. At worst, she could still make money from the puppet shows.

The puppeteer Cornelia looked up at the reconstructed doll house, with no small amount of fear. It was here that it all started, here where she had gotten her body, and where Karin had lost hers. It seemed as likely a place as any to maybe find a solution. She hefted a pair of heavy cases, and walked inside, heading up stairs to the master bedroom.

It had been many years since that night, even accounting for how things had ended with Kato. Over time, Cornelia had adapted. The first few days, she could barely talk. But Anastasia and Gepetto had taken it upon themselves to help her adapt. She knew Gepetto would, even though she saw the conflict in the old man’s eyes. Cornelia might as well have been his daughter. She certainly looked like the real Cornelia would have, if she’d made it to this age. But even Cornelia could tell it was difficult for him.

Anastasia, however, had taken to Cornelia quite strongly, attempting to act like a mentor to her. Well, as much as Anastasia could. But still, she was a help during the transition, such as it was. She would often offer Cornelia advice, whether she needed it or not. But she was a fast friend, something Cornelia had desperately needed.

Kurando was slower to warm to the former doll, not that she could blame him. She could have just as likely been another monster, one that stole the body of a travelling companion. But over time, he had warmed to her. He was one of the few that helped her look for ways to undo whatever had happened to Karin, even if they had had no luck.

The rest of them were less interested. Lucia hardly noticed that a change had taken place, even if she had encouraged Cornelia to let her use Karin as a dancing partner, and endeavour that had made more than a little money when they were struggling. Blanca had barely cared apart from a brief attempt to mark his territory on Karin’s prone form once, something the wolf was strongly discouraged from in the future. Joachim had been briefly melodramatic about the whole affair, pledging revenge and justice, shaking a giant doll’s leg at the sky, but even the rage of the Grand Papillon didn’t last.

As for Yuri, well, he was different. He was angry at what happened, when the initial shock wore off. But the Mistletoe curse had been wreaking havoc on his memories. After a few weeks, he didn’t even recognize her as anything but the doll that belonged to Cornelia. Even when his memories were in place, however, there wasn’t enough room for Karin in his heart. Even Cornelia could tell that.

It was around then that Anastasia had suggested they stop calling her Karin, if just to make it a bit easier on Yuri’s failing memory. She chose the name Anne, which they all went along with. But from that point on, they all seemed to slowly forget who Karin was, all the while accepting Cornelia in her place. That had hurt, in a weird way. It was good to have companions, but rather than try to help return Karin to human, they just seemed content to replace Karin with her.

Cornelia shook herself from her memories. That was years ago. She had to worry about now. She was uneasy here, but it might just be the way to make up for what had happened. She gingerly opened the smaller of the two cases she carried with her. In it was Anne- no, Karin. That part, she mustn’t forget.

The doll was curled up in a fetal position, wearing a patchwork blue dress, her long red hair in a pair of long curls, much like Cornelia’s own hair. She pulled her carefully out of the case, holding Karin like a mother might her daughter. Maybe this was how Gepetto had treated her way back when. Cornelia’s own memories of being a doll had grown more and more vague over the years.

She laid her out on the bed, looking down at her closed eyes. Those were the only sign of Karin’s remaining humanity, the only part that Cornelia hadn’t taken when she was under the spell of the house. She shivered, remembering that night. She laid Karin down on the bed, and closed the case. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be needed again.

Cornelia ran her hand over Karin’s arm, feeling the wood. She could still feel the hints of old dents and nicks from when she had Karin fight her battles. She opened her other bag, reaching in to grab a bottle of polish and a cloth. “I really shouldn’t have kept you in that box so long, should I? But I could hardly let you out on the boat. And people keep giving us strange looks when we walk about.”

That had been the reason they’d got the carrying case in the first place. That and the fact that the Magimel brothers had refused to make any alterations to the dresses without more Stud Cards, a resource that had seemingly vanished off the earth after some wandering acupuncturist started collecting them. The dresses had been far too small for either of them by that point, but they still bestowed the magic they did. The only one she could safely work on herself was the old blue dress she used to wear.

Cornelia slowly removed that dress from Karin, the doll woman unresisting, her limbs unresisting, even if her eyes opened from the jolt. But those eyes, while human, looked at nothing. Cornelia often worried if she was still in there. She still talked to Karin, but she never really felt a response. Placing the dress to one side, she poured some of the polish onto the cloth, slowly running it over Karin’s wooden body, taking a painstaking, almost motherly approach to cleaning the doll.

As Cornelia had grown, Karin, if anything, had seemed to look younger. Repairs after damage inflicted, repainting, and other changes made her seem to be in her late teens, as opposed to the twenty five years she had been when the incident happened. A part of Cornelia would miss that. Taking care of Karin, polishing her, dressing her, doing her hair, they were all relaxing. But it was for the best. And so, tonight, she would be thorough.

With the polishing done, she dressed Karin again in the patchwork blue dress, and picked her up again. She pulled back the covers, and set her back down on the double bed. Cornelia looked down at Karin’s painted smile, and smiled herself. She leant down, and kissed her gently on the forehead.

Cornelia stood up, and then turned to dress herself for bed. She wore a simple nightgown, something that would not be too difficult to deal with. And then she took the red string from her bag. It was the same string that had been on her wrists and ankles, that fateful night. It had taken time to find more of it, but it should do. The puppeteer tied the string to her ankles, then her wrists, before climbing in to bed. She took the other ends of the strings, and tied them to the matching limbs on the doll. “…I hope you’ll be okay. I’m sorry this all happened. It’s been nice, but I’m the one who should be the puppet, not you.” She whispered, tears forming in her eyes. “Goodnight, Karin.”

And with that, she held the doll close to her, and lay down to sleep.

It was the movement on the bed that caught her attention first. Shivering caused vibrations through the bed. Her eyes opened, and she saw the red haired girl, in her late teens. It worked, Cornelia thought to herself. She had finally undone the effects of years ago. She could rest easy. But looking at Karin, shivering in the cold of the night, she wished she could reach out to warm her.

And that’s when she noticed her arm moving out, and pulling the other girl in close. An arm not of wood, but flesh and blood instead. She sat up, looking at herself. The string that bound the two of them was gone. On her wrists were no marks, nor were there on the other girls. Whatever it was that had happened, it had left them both human. But she looked down at Karin, and she had bigger priorities. Seeing the young woman that had been her doll shivering, something triggered in Cornelia. She got out of bed, and walked over to the wardrobe. Inside, was a battered old German military coat, circa 1915. She took it, and wrapped it around the redhead, before getting back into bed herself, and pulling Karin in close. And then she heard a quiet voice.

“Miss Cornelia…” The words seemed to echo, as quiet as they were. “Where are we?”

“Do you remember anything?” Cornelia asked, barely above a whisper. The response she got was a head shaking from side to side, as it pressed against her body. “What about your name?” There was a pause.

“I…” The girl took her time, practically cocooning herself in the heavy trench coat, and pressing close to Cornelia. She opened her eyes slowly, looking up. They were human still, but an unnatural sort of tint to them. “I’m Anne.”

Cornelia blinked. That was not the answer she was expecting. It’s probably better this way, she thought, it might be too much for her to have to remember everything. This way, she won’t have to know what happened to the rest of them.

“That’s right… isn’t it, Miss Cornelia?”

Cornelia felt like she should have waited longer to respond. But the words came out before she could stop herself. “That’s right, Anne. That’s right.” She stroked Karin’s- no, Anne’s- red hair, holding her tightly. “Go back to sleep. It’ll be alright. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Anne closed her eyes, and rested her head against her guardian’s chest, a smile forming on her lips. It would be alright. Miss Cornelia said so. “Goodnight, Miss Cornelia.”

“Goodnight, Anne.”

A few days later, Li Zhuzhen, the Absolute Sage, looked up at a poster on the wall. ‘Anne and Cornelia, Puppeteers Extraordinaire’ it said, a picture of the two performers showing prominently.

“A show with a pair of beauties like that seems like something worth seeing.” He commented to himself, with a little chortle. “It’s a pity I’ll be out of town.” He turned away, placing his arms behind his back and walking toward the docks.

“I do wonder how that ward is holding up. I dare say any of that sort of magic should work properly again.” The true ruler of the nine heavens shook his head. “It’s a mystery to me why people keep coming back to those miserable old places.”

(Author’s Notes: Okay, fine, I’m a sucker for happy endings, if a bit weird. Hoping it works with some of the notes reviewers made, but this one’s even tamer than the last chapter. I’m not much of one for writing the explicit naughty bits, so much as the situations surrounding them. Anyway, critique remains welcome, and I’m hoping people enjoyed it.)
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The Workbench in the Dollhouse