M. Alfonse Frankenstein,
Rossignol and I were very pleased to receive your letter. I am stunned that you found so many pieces for me to play— they've kept me rather busy!
Eva's dresses fit her splendidly and should last her for quite some time. We are very grateful for these gifts and Eva loves them. The blue one is her favourite. To answer one of your many questions, she asks about you and Miss Elizabeth each time I receive a letter. It would be good of you both to write to her— when you are ready, of course.
As to her recovery: she has taken up writing and reading. She is a voracious reader, a little reading competition has sprung up between Rossignol and her. If we do not complete the library soon I am not sure where we shall keep the growing stack of novels. In regards to what she writes, I cannot know for she is very secretive and carries her journal almost everywhere she goes. Rousing he from her work to keep her active has proven to be a challenge. I am afraid Rossignol is the only person able to convince her to put down her pen. We do worry about this mannerism making her public debut difficult. The ostracization that comes with being perceived as being anti-social, or arrogant, is unfair to her. However, we are blessed not to live too close to town.
There is, sadly, not much opportunity for her to make friends or meet people. Only one other estate is nearby and it currently sits vacant. Several villages are nearby but the locals are quiet and rather shy of us. The major town is several miles away and if we have no business to attend there then we do not go.
Once a month the village holds a dance and it is there that she socializes the most. There are four girls several years older than she and three boys of various ages. The last dance boasted one hundred fifteen in attendance, the largest in many years. We are told that our presence is the cause of this and that more shall come with each passing month.
The town is fairly large, it is no Southampton. It has a population of about three thousand and it is from the town that we received most of our labourers. It is a beautiful town, just as the village was once lovely. There is an exquisite Frenchness about it with a mix of the Italian Mediterranean. Tomatoes are the prepared in every conceivable manner here and they are divine, Monsieur Frankenstein!
Since our arrival, both the village and town have come back to life, like our dusty house, the stains of a dormant past are being cleared away. Rossignol has hired several craftsmen to help us with our house. We receive several visitors a day— many looking for work and many others just hoping to see our progress with the estate. Practicing my music and composing letters are about the only opportunity I have to sit and enjoy peace. It is quite different from my upbringing, but I am pleased to see our work yielding results.I have discovered that I have an aptitude for gardening and I have begun growing Snowdrops and lavender. By next year, we hope to grow our own crops and turn our home into an independent estate.
Which reminds me! I have not related the history of the estate like you asked, nor have I conveyed how Rossignol purchased it. I assume that you plan to purchase a house for Victor and Elizabeth?
The estate was once known as Maison de la vallée and it belonged the Dechant family. Their home— our home— sustained considerable damage in a fire in 1743. Only the front part of the ground floor and the attic remained untouched by the flames as the fire was brought under control. So far we have restored the kitchen and several rooms on the ground floor. The upper levels are in a dreadful state, but the floors, which were replaced by the family who briefly occupied the house some thirty years prior, are sturdy and I have begun exploring the rest of our home. I have discovered a trunk full of old letters and books belonging to the previous family. I hope to have time soon to read them.
Most of the property was left to ruin and we have slowly begun reclaiming it. Rossignol remains active in Venice, but our home has taken a toll on him both financially and physically.
I am glad you inquired after him. He has confessed and has given me consent to reveal his mind on these tragedies. At first, Rossignol did not understand the depth of his crime of killing William. Please, read all that I write before passing your judgment on him.
Before the death of William, he had never beheld the lifeless body of a person— he had no understanding of its finality since his life began with the violation of this law. His goal— and I do not shy from the repulsion I feel regarding this confession, was to hurt Victor. He believed that he was justified in this cruel blow. His fury is unrivaled, but with love,it is tamed and utilized beneficially.
Shifting the guilt of murder to Justine was the source of a rather painful argument. Of his crimes, this is his most baseless wickedness— even now it infuriates me and well, it breaks his heart. I love him so much that I find these confessions unsettling, it is as if I am meeting someone else.
He has described, in near perfect detail, what has already been related to me by your family. The way he speaks of Justine, I might almost believe him to be in love with her. If he could take back his deeds, he would, in an instant. It is his sincerest wish that you find some comfort in this.
I also wish to inform you, Monsieur Frankenstein, that he built a memorial for them in my garden. I think he plans to do more to honor their memory, but for now, let this bring you solace.
Truthfully, I hadn't planned to ever speak with Victor or about him, but Rossignol desires a reconciliation— a peace between them. He carries the weight of his deeds heavily, but he does not carry these alone. I will not press upon Victor's misdeeds as they have caused so much anguish for you and Elizabeth, but they both share the guilt for terrible crimes and they are both wretched because of this.
At present, I cannot face Victor and neither can Eva, no matter how much she adores you and Elizabeth. My husband, however, would desire a peaceful meeting with Victor and with you, should you desire it. This is not what you wanted to hear since I know you blame yourself, but don't. None of this is your fault.
Please know that I wish us to remain amicable and familiar. I eagerly await your next letter.
Georgia P. Rossignol
"Do you want to read it?" Georgia asked after gently blowing the ink dry on the paper. She turned in her chair and held out the pages for Rossignol to take.
He lay stretched on their bed with his hand supporting his head. Light from the candles spaced throughout their room danced across his blotchy skin. His loose white shirt hung open, exposing the noose-like scar around his neck and the scar that ran the length of his abdomen. He declined, but extended his hand out to Georgia, beckoning her to their bed. "You wrote about me. About our argument."
"Yes," she replied. "How did you know?"
A smile appeared on his lips, exposing his straight, pearly white teeth. "You have a specific look when you think about it. Your nose scrunches up, your lips purse, your left eyebrow moves inwards, but not your right one. Tension fills your arms and your back hunches just slightly."
She gaped at him. "Curious."
"I always know what you're thinking."
Georgia felt guilty for still feeling so angry. The man he was now was not the man he was then, reconciling the two was the hardest aspect of forgiveness. Mentioning the crime filled her with anguish, but the look he expressed in his watery eyes forced her feelings to soften.
Once the ink dried on all of the pages, Georgia folded up the notes and sealed them shut. She blew out the candles upon her desk. As she stood, the fabric of her night dress rested loosely around her form. Rossignol observed her with hazy eyes, he was perfectly languid laying across the bed. Georgia lifted one leg onto the bed and leaned close to her husband. He was enchanting.
Long fingers reached out to Frankenstein's creation and traced his scars. As she worked her way down his chest she exposed more of it by opening his shirt further. He, in turn, reached out to caress the supple flesh upon her chest.
"You know I love you, Gabriel?" she asked.
His smile grew as he continued caressing her. Georgia, however, ceased her gentle strokes and reached up for the scar running along his hairline. It looked less angry than it had the first time she saw it. The skin was less bumpy as her fingers passed over it. They were one soul, they always would be, just as they were always meant to be.
Georgia kissed the scar, his forehead, both cheeks, and then she pulled the lips that persisted in smiling to her lips. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, mumbling as she tasted him.
"I know. Je t'aime, mon per neige." He kissed her in return. "My snowdrop."
A/N: Well, thank you so much for reading all the way to the end! I want to thank everyone who gave me a review! Those mean the world to me. I know I have a bad habit of not publically thanking you and publically replying to those reviews, I will for the next story. This was the final post for "Snowdrop", and I really hoped you all enjoyed. Please don't hesitate to correct me on mistakes or tell me what you liked or didn't like.
Also, check out some other Frankenstein stories. There are quite a few other very talented writers on here just waiting for you to read their work. Write a Frankenstein story! I cannot get enough. If you decide to write one, I want to read it!
Check back in August to see the final story about our beloved Rossignol and Georgia. I am not sure how often I will post, but there will be a chapter in August.
Thank you so much! 3
Check out my Loki story "The Slave", intended for a mature audience.