Chapter 2
Going back to Styria had been Carmilla’s first international assignment. Most international news outlets covering rebellions focused on Syria or Egypt or Ukraine, but few had ever even mentioned the rebels in Styria. It seemed like a gamble for an up-and-coming reporter to take on, but Laura Hollis took it upon herself to make sure that someone was reporting on this: people had to know.
The cold pricked at Carmilla’s skin like tiny needles as soon as she stepped off the plane in her hometown. Note to self, she thought, get more layers. Eventually she managed to get to their staging location as circumstances did not allow for an office or even a proper hotel. Once on site, an assistant pointed her to the barracks she’d be sharing with the reporter. Could be worse, Carmilla told herself.
She made her way across the threshold, plopped her bag down in the middle of the room and opened the mini fridge. There was a microwave on top, so she poured herself a glass of milk and proceeded to make a cup of hot chocolate.
“Who the hell are you?” An incredulous voice asked from across the room. Standing on the other side of the tent was a woman not much shorter than she, but with her body tensed and a face indicating that she was already annoyed. Cute.
“I’m your new photographer, sweetheart,” Carmilla smirked. This was going to be fun.
Carmilla had admittedly spent the first few weeks of that assignment going out of her way to annoy the reporter: eating the other woman’s cookies, leaving her clothes all over the place, and just being less than cordial over all. But as they delved deeper and deeper into the story, Carmilla couldn’t help keeping her fondness for Laura from bubbling up to the surface every now and then. She was never sure how the other woman felt about her though.
“I think I have a new lead,” Laura breathed out excitedly hanging up the phone one day. She put down the cup of chocolate Carmilla had prepared for her and began packing her bag.
Carmilla took the cue began assembling her gear: lenses, tripod, filters- everything. “And who are we following up with this time, cutie?” She smirked as Laura’s cheeks flushed with color.
“Hans and Freida Weber,” Laura said after gathering her composure. “Apparently their daughter joined the regime about ten years ago and they haven’t been in touch with her since. Her name is—”
“—Eloisa Weber,” Carmilla interrupted. She froze. “Ell. I don’t really see how that’s relevant to the story.”
“How could this not be relevant?” Laura retorted.
“Is this some sort of a joke? Who gave you that lead anyway? It’s a dead end.” Carmilla was flustered now.
“What is your issue? I have to get the whole story. Part of that means understanding how The President has managed to stay in power all this time: how does she recruit? How is her whole operation sustainable?”
“You know what? This is getting too dangerous. I think you should drop the whole thing.”
“Oh, sure. I’ve been out here for two months, but now that we have what could be our first major break, you want me to walk away? Why? Because you’re scared?”
“Because it’s not safe! Because—”
“—I don’t need your damn protection! Look, if you’re too afraid to do your job, then fine. I will go talk to the Webers myself.” Laura grabbed her bag with a huff and began to storm off.
“Wait.” Carmilla’s voice was soft now, more vulnerable than Laura had ever heard it. She turned around slowly while the brunette spoke. “You should at least make it a point not to go in there blind.”
Laura paused, unsure of how to respond. A moment ago she was enraged that Carmilla seemed like she was giving up. And now she was giving Laura this look, this look that was begging her to listen, but also something else, perhaps something deeper.
The moment stretched on and Carmilla uncrossed her arms in exasperation. “I was born Mircalla Karnstein. I changed it to Carmilla Stein when I escaped to the US. My mother is the President of Styria.”
Laura sat in disbelief as she allowed Carmilla’s words to wash over her.
***
Carmilla let the story pour out of her. Apparently, she and Eloisa—Ell, as Carmilla called her—had become friends through local chess tournaments. When they couldn’t be friends anymore, the two became lovers, each drawn to the other’s wit and intellect. That was how Ell had come to spend more and more time at the National Palace, which included the occasional small dinner with The President.
Those dinners were tense, with The President poking at Carmilla with all sorts of philosophical debates. But her daughter saw right through her: she was looking for ways to justify the increasingly contentious way she was running the country. More often than not though, Carmilla and Ell found themselves on opposite sides of each argument. It tore at them.
“We should run away,” Carmilla had suggested. “What my mom is doing—I can’t stand by and let it happen anymore. I can’t stop her though. Come with me.”
Ell had paused for a moment before agreeing. Her saying “yes” was what got Carmilla organizing the best laid plans, relying on rebel forces to smuggle the two of them out of the country. The night they were slated to leave, though, they were met by The President, who embraced Ell as if she was her own daughter. “Thank you, darling,” she had said.
Carmilla stood there, dumbfounded. “I don’t understand.”
Ell spoke first. “All those things you hate, Milly? They’re keeping this country going.” Carmilla was in disbelief. “You think people would have places to live and food to eat if The President didn’t run this country the way she does?”
“This country is run on the backs of unpaid laborers and corruption.” She was still flustered. “And what does this have to do with us? We were supposed to disappear in France and build a life together! Why are you doing this?”
“It needed to be done,” Ell responded coldly.
Carmilla turned to her mother. “You’re a monster,” she said, defeated.
“And you’re weak.” The President hissed. She snapped her fingers and suddenly everything went dark.
She had no idea how much time had passed by the time she woke up, but when she did she was strapped to a table. She was dizzy, exhausted, parched.
“Good morning, Ms. Karnstein,” said a voice she didn’t recognize. “A few of your rebel friends have escaped, so you’re going to help us find them.” Carmilla tried to spit, but her mouth was too dry. “Right! Water.”
Rough hands squeezed her jaw open from her cheeks and poured water. “There,” the voice said. “Now, tell me where I can find Hans Zimmer.”
“I don’t know,” Carmilla said, her voice hoarse. A sudden surge of power ripped its way through her body, the agony consuming every fiber of her being.
“Did you know,” the voice stated, “that there are those who consider giving people water before electrocuting them to be cruel and unusual? I say, if we’re already electrocuting people, why should the fun stop there?”
And so it went on for days and weeks. When the electrocution didn’t work, they starved her. Then they tried sleep deprivation, anything to get the answers out of her.
***
“How did you escape?” Laura asked softly.
“Rebel forces got me out. Hans actually took a bullet for me. I watched him die.” Carmilla clenched her jaw in a futile attempt to keep the tears from falling. “They nursed me back to health and got me to the U.S. I got to the country just in time to celebrate my eighteenth birthday. I always wonder whether or not their goal is even attainable, whether all of that was worth it. That was ten years ago.”
“Carm,” Laura took Carmilla’s hands in her own. “Their goal is attainable. The idea that Styria could be a just and peaceful place is worth working towards. And everyone’s worth saving.” She lifted gently lifted Carmilla’s chin. “Especially you.”
Carmilla scoffed and stood up, using the ends of her shirt to wipe her tears. “What do you know anyway, creampuff?”
Normally, that would aggravate Laura, but after Carmilla had made herself so open, she understood the brunette’s need for a moment of levity. Laura grabbed a box of tissues and smiled.
“Thank you,” Carmilla responded.
Laura tucked Carmilla’s hair behind her ear, stroking her as she spoke. “I know that most people being tortured would have said anything to make it stop. I know that coming back here must be intensely difficult for you, even if you do have a different name. I know that you’re more heroic than you give yourself credit for, and I know that you think peace in Styria is still possible, or you wouldn’t have taken this assignment.”
Carmilla released a breath she didn’t know she was holding, allowing Laura to take over all her senses. She let herself be fully consumed by the softness of the blonde’s touch, the smell of her skin, the way she looked at her with a tenderness Carmilla couldn’t quite identify.
She sighed as the reality of her situation. “I’m sure that the Webers blame me for Ell joining the regime.”
“You should come with me anyway.” She still had her hands on Carmilla’s shoulders.
How did Laura manage to make her voice so gently authoritative? Carmilla thought to herself. Could Laura feel her getting distracted?
“Look,” Laura continued. “Maybe you could let me spend some time with them for twenty minutes or so, and then I can send you a text to tell you to come in. Give you the chance to reconcile with each other.”
“Okay,” Carmilla agreed.
She look at Laura intensely, gaze falling to her lips as Carmilla placed one hand on the side of the other woman’s face. Laura tilted her head, allowing her lips to graze the brunette’s neck before planting a soft kiss just under her ear. And another on her jaw as Carmilla breathed her in. Another kiss on the corner of Carmilla’s mouth. A smile formed on the smaller woman’s mouth as Carmilla leaned in and –
“—Hey, the Jeep is ready to g- Oh, I am so sorry!” LaFontaine stood at the entrance of the barracks, suddenly flustered.
Carmilla and Laura startled apart.
“What’s going on?” Perry asked, appearing in the doorway. “Why are we all standing here? We’re going to be late!” She stood at the doorway with her hands on her hips. “Let’s go!”
“Right,” Carmilla said, rolling her eyes and getting her gear. Laura followed suit with her own bag and climbed into the Jeep with the others.
“I understand that we have to follow the rules make bring at least one person from the barracks with us, but when did the ginger twins become a two-for-one deal?” Carmilla didn’t bother whispering: she was visibly annoyed.
“Carm!” Laura slapped her thigh.
“No harm ever came from having a medic around, you know,” LaF said, turning around with her mouth full.
“Are there cookies?!” Laura exclaimed.
“Perry made your favorite,” LaF replied, extending the tupperware container full of cookies. Laura immediately wolfed one down and took two more to keep on her lap. LaF offered the cookies to Carmilla.
“No thanks,” she responded. “My personality is sweet enough.”
They had a good laugh at that while Laura rolled her eyes.