#I should come up with a general Ketzedon tag

[neednothavehappenedtobetrue]

I had a lot of fun with this one! I might do more, especially if people like it! it’s meant to be Ketzedon mythology.

Nadia’s favorite American fairytale is Hansel and Gretel. her favorite American movie is Frozen, but in most versions of that fairytale they are not siblings, they are a girl and the boy she loves, which is less interesting. 

her children prefer the fairytales she grew up on, the ones she learned from Helena.

there are two sisters. Opal and Ruby. Willow and White Oak. Oriana and Isolde. Nova and Serenity. they have a lot of names, because goddesses pick up new names every century and they live a lot of centuries. in the stories, it’s Opal who brings them new names every century. it’s Ruby who writes them down.

there are two sisters and they love the same man. His name, always, is Death, but people almost exclusively call him “Death-who-belongs-to-her,”

(it’s one word in Ketzeskell, quechenn. it is hard to translate fairytales)

sometimes the people mean “Death who belongs to Opal” and sometimes they mean “Death who belongs to Ruby” and a lot of the time they just mean “Death who belongs to whichever at the moment is listening to me” but rarely does anyone suggest Death might belong to himself. he doesn’t mind. 

Death can be kind, or not, but he is always fastidious. he can be mercurial or predictable but he is always meticulous. he is very detail-oriented. he is very busy, because there is a lot of work for Death to do, but he makes time for the three things he loves, which are his two wives and his vast collection of miniatures. he sculpts them out of stone and wood and gems and cloth. In his private quarters, he has built a tiny model of the world, with tiny sapphire oceans and land lushly green with real moss, the moss standing in for trees and grass and the things that make the real world green. the tiny world has tiny cities, made of matchstick and brick fragments, and tiny castles made of clay. it has clockwork miniature whales and bears and lions. there are differences of opinion about whether it contains people. 

it must be said, his wives do not take much interest in his miniatures unless they are trying to flatter him. 

“oh look,” they say, when they need something from him. “is that a tiny whale? how precious! how ever did you make it?”

“you don’t care about my miniatures,” he says.

“I like the tiny whale,” Opal says defensively. “look how it moves among the sapphires. show me the newest thing you’ve built.”  she is able to muster a little bit more enthusiasm for the miniatures than her sister. 

“you care about the miniatures,” Ruby says. “and I care about you. so I care about the miniatures... a little bit. show me the stars again.” the tiny world has tiny stars set above it, miniature embers. 

he always shows them what they ask for. 

the sisters love each other. they occasionally quarrel, but they love each other with a sister-love that eclipses even their love for Death. that’s why they decided they would both marry him, to minimize the amount of quarreling over him they did.  they informed him of this and he took it in stride. Death went to ask permission from the sisters’ parents, the earth and sky.

“I want to marry your daughters,” Death said.

“which one?”

“daughters. Opal and Ruby. Willow and White Oak. Oriana and Isolde. Nova and Serenity.”

“yes, but... both of them? at once?”

“I suspect it will have to be at once, yes. otherwise there will be at least a few moments where I am married to one and not the other, and they will have to pick who goes first. that sounds like a bad recipe.”

“what gives you the right to demand both of our beautiful daughters? you think just one of them is not enough for you?”

“your daughters are incalculably vast and I am really only one thing. it is a modestly important thing, death, as concepts go, but no, it does not measure up to either of them, let alone both. still, I am here, asking to marry your daughters.” 

“and you think we will give both of our daughters away to a little man like you?”

“I was rather hoping you might.” 

“and why would we do that?”

“well, because they have decided they would like to marry me. both of them. they have come to an accord on this point. they sent me to get your permission, as you do, but really, they are the ones driving this particular oxcart. you must know what they are like when they come to an accord on something.”  

the earth and the sky looked at each other. “so really you do not wish to marry them?”

“I wish to marry them very much. I came here through the woods and the mountains and the lands of the living and the dead, and I cleared a lot of time in my schedule to do it, to ask your permission to marry them. I love them both very much and will be delighted and honored to be their husband, if you will allow it.”

“do you love them?”

“of course I do. I would not travel through the woods and the mountains and the lands of the living and the dead to ask permission to marry two women who I did not love. that would be a waste of time.”

“you are merely frightened to disappoint them.”

“it would have made for a difficult century, disappointing them, but it would have been more efficient than disappointing them by degrees for eternity.” 

“ah, but which one do you love more?”

“I love them both.”

“of course you do. but if you had to choose. if we were to force you to choose under threat of obliteration.” 

“I may not be popular with many people,” says Death “and I am widely regarded to be not very much fun at parties. but I am very difficult to destroy. entropy is sort of my thing, you see.”

“we could put you in a small room for many centuries.”

“you would begin to have logistical problems after a few days. things like to die. they’ve sort of structured the world around it happening..” 

“we will only give you one. you have to choose.”

“I will not.”

“you are Death. you are constant, unavoidable, unyielding. surely you prefer our Ruby, our White Oak, our Isolde, our Serenity.”

“I do not.” 

“or perhaps opposites attract? or you are not as we characterized you? you are unpredictable to the living. you reshape their world. surely you prefer our Opal, our Willow, our Oriana, our Nova.”

“I am Death. I am at once constant and unpredictable. I am all those things you say and I love both of your daughters very much.” 

“they are so different! how can you love both of them the same?”

“I just do. don’t you?” 

“our Opal is vibrant and flirtatious, lively and quick-thinking. our Ruby is stubborn and stolid. at her best she is cozy, familiar, like worn-in shoes. surely you prefer one over the other?”

“I do not.” 

“our Ruby is brilliant and persistent, steady and talented. our Opal is capricious and dramatic. at her best, she sparkles in the light like a bauble. surely you prefer one over the other?”

“I do not. please stop saying unkind things about your children to force me to voice an opinion.”

“how will you manage it, being married to two people?”

“I am quite good at logistics. I will make a calendar. it will be perfectly manageable. most things are.”

“our daughters are not.”

“I promise I know this.” 

they set for him a series of challenges for the girls’ separate hands and wait to see which ones he solves first. he shows resourcefulness and intelligence and an affinity for fine detail, but not favoritism. eventually, they capture him in their cottage beyond the woods and the mountains and the lands of the living and the dead and they wait for the girls to show up themselves, thinking one will be faster than the other, spurred on by passion.

they arrive together and they are cross. 

“mummy! daddy!” they complain, though it is not clear which of their parents is which. “you can’t just make hostages of people! especially not Death. we tried to do his job but were both rubbish at it in different ways. also, we love him, please give him back.”

“we have set a test for you. the winner loves him the more and shall have his hand.” 

“no, daddy, mummy, we have already done this. we spent a century devising tests for each other and we couldn’t sort it out. we both love him the same. now please give him back so he can fix the dead people and we can get married.”

“we have not yet granted permission,” the earth and sky said, and the twins turned identical pouts on their parents, who have never been able to withstand them on the occasions that they come to an accord. 

“must we?” the girls ask, and their parents relent. 

they are married in the cottage and they honeymoon in the woods and the mountains and then they must go back to the lands of the living and the dead, to sort out the inevitable logistical issues that arose when Death was kidnapped.