#and she was lying in the mud and drinking river water
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pablosexc0bar · 2 years ago
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did not end up going to the arboretum
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pastelghostspider · 2 years ago
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Tw! Self Harm, Suicide, Death! If anything triggers you please skip this chapter and stay safe!
A Horrible Mourning pt.4
The hallway is filled with students, the same musty smell coming from the floors. The weekend had been a nice getaway from everything that was happening. She walks up to me wondering why I had left her at the restaurant. I just walk away, Walking through the crowded hallway down the stairs, I bite off a chunk of the inside of my cheek, coppery blood pooling in my mouth. She tried to cover her crimes as “accidents”. I know the truth.
My house is hot and humid, my room is the hottest, the windows won’t open. I run to my bathroom and pick out a shiny new pair of nail clippers, I need to make it quick before my parents return from their day jobs.  The soft carpet touches my feet, grounding myself. I insert the clippers into my mouth. Wrapping the edge of the clippers around a tooth, I use all my force to rip it out.  Continuously ripping teeth out of my mouth at a rapid rate makes my mouth bleed where the teeth once sat. I stop once the pain becomes unbearable.
The garage is dusty and filled with rusted junk.  I place a fistful of teeth in a small box behind a toolbox, it’s not just teeth from today. Some are baby teeth. I choke down painkillers with gulps of water. I wonder what would happen if I overdosed at this moment. Would anybody care? My parents wouldn’t. She wouldn’t. I’m just a warm meat sack that is slowly losing a heartbeat. I have lost interest in my uneventful life. If I were to go to college I wouldn’t make it a semester. I want to die.
The rain plasters itself onto my umbrella, never letting it dry. I’ve had dreams about ripping out pairs of eyes. Sewing mouths shut. Using a knife to examine how the human mind works. I’ve also had dreams about him. Dreams where he’s alive and happy. Where she never killed him. I like those dreams.
The floor is dirty, dirt and mud caking the crevices. The smelling of blood and humidity. She stands above their lifeless bodies. Yelling how it’s my fault. I want to throw up. I want to scream. But I just stand there. She lightly drags a pair of scissors across my neck, ready to draw blood.
I’m ready.
She cuts through my skin into my ribs, bone showing. A river of blood spilling from my half lifeless body.
Now I only have to die and I’ll be free.
Free from her. Free from this life. Free from myself.
My vision becomes staticky as my body becomes weak. I’ve accepted my death.
The room is white and smells like sanitizer. He is talking to a nurse. I stand up slowly and almost double down from the pain. I can’t believe I’m seeing him again, after months and months of wishing and hurting he’s here.
As I get closer I realize that it’s her.
She took me to the hospital.
I run back to the room I was lying in when I woke up, my feet slapping the cold hard floor.
Longer chapter! I finally got around to writing this one! Drink some water and have a good day/night!
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samayla · 4 months ago
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And Jack is a secret astronomy nerd, but he's been told his whole life that he's not that kind of smart, so he's just treading water at the community college and playing dumb because it's what's expected. One day he gets up the courage to ask Sam to see this big meteor shower with him, but Vala overhears, and the whole study group ends up out in the back of his pickup in the middle of nowhere, staring up at the sky for hours as they wait for the show and talking about surprisingly deep things.
After a while, hopelessly socially inept Jonas confesses he'd thought he was secretly being invited to a cool kid party, and he produces terrible, cheap beers for everyone, so of course MomFriend!Janet informs them they will NOT be driving back into town tonight if they start drinking. They find a better spot to camp for the night and still see the sky, and Daniel whips out a bunch of blankets he'd stashed behind the back seat of Janet's sensible, beat-up minivan. They light a campfire near a lazy stretch of the river and stretch out against their backpacks. They chat some more and laugh and try to drink the terrible beers, but they're not even cold, so they drink Janet's emergency bottled water instead, and eat all of the half-melted M&M's Teal'c had stashed in Jack's glovebox the week before, laughing some more as they try to guess their original colors.
Vala, meanwhile, knew all along that Jack only meant to ask Sam, but she knew Sam wouldn't say yes on her own, so well before there is light enough to make it even a plausible excuse, she flounces off toward a sandbar in the river to look for arrowheads. Daniel gets up to follow of course, insisting that they'd do better in daylight and that she's going to fall in and drown. The sound of their argument drifts back to camp, and Janet rolls her eyes and stifles a yawn and informs them that she's going to go get a couple hours' sleep in the van because she has a test tomorrow. At Janet's meaningful look, Teal'c gets up to make sure Daniel and Vala haven't killed each other, and he asks the still-clueless Jonas to assist him.
Jack and Sam are alone at last, and it's a little awkward at first, because Jack has been wanting this all semester, and Sam has, too. They're the only ones still looking when the promised meteor shower begins at last, and suddenly all the awkwardness is gone. They watch the light show, lying back together in the grass. Jack offers his arm as a pillow, and Sam accepts, adjusting her blanket to share with Jack. The meteor shower passes, but still they lie there, quiet and a tiny bit awkward again. Just as they are managing to overcome it, and it seems like they might say something important, or maybe even kiss, they are interrupted by a loud splash and a squeal from the direction of the river.
Daniel comes storming back into camp moments later, dripping mud and river water. Vala follows after, soaked to the knees herself and swearing up and down that it was an accident, and how was she to know the rocks would be that slippery? Jonas, also wet, but in weird places, like his right arm and the hem of his shirt, scurries along behind them and chatters hopefully about how he's sure there must be a towel or something in one of the vehicles. Teal'c is the only one not wet, merely looking quietly amused at the others' plight.
Twenty minutes later, the battle lines have been drawn. Vala has a handful of river mud in her freshly blown-out hair, and Janet really ought to be sleeping right now, and in his search for towels, Jonas knocks Jack's ancient pickup into drive and it hits a tree - not hard, and the truck is nearly indestructible anyway, but still. The truck won't start, and Janet won't let any of them into her van until they've dried off, and everyone is a little bit cold and a little bit hungry, and Jack and Sam had almost-but-not-quite kissed, and the whole trip is basically a disaster at this point.
Sam steps in to mediate, and they agree to settle matters on the paintball field on Saturday, and they're all pretty much best friends after that because by the next morning, when everyone is dry and full of the worst fish they've ever eaten (caught by Jack and cooked by Daniel and seasoned by Jonas with a splash of terrible beer), and Sam and Teal'c have got the pickup running again, and Janet has brushed the dried mud out of Vala's hair, and Jonas has finally caught on and loudly called the whole rest of the group over to investigate a strange rock so Jack and Sam can have a few minutes before they leave, the meteor shower trip seems like nothing more than a great story.
Paintball on Saturday is equally disastrous, but they agree to make it a regular thing anyway.
Imagine
Stargate but instead of meeting at a secure government facility they all meet at the community college where Daniel is teaching English as a second language. And, get this, Jack starts a study group so he can befriend and hopefully date Sam, but Sam invites her three friends who totally are not aliens, Vala, Jonas and Teal’c (goes by Murray obviously) as well as her best friend Janet and disgraced archaeologist turned ESL teacher, Daniel. Perhaps they would play paintball as well maybe.
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theartofdreaming1 · 4 years ago
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Here is my attempt at portraying Peeta’s camouflage skills convincingly 😅😅
As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 19-21 are below the cut.
heart
While I love all the banter between Katniss and Peeta, I think my favorite of these three chapters is: “Trust me. Killing things is much easier than this,” I say. “Although for all I know, I am killing you.” “Can you speed it up a little?” he asks. “No. Shut up and eat your pears,” I say. A classic 😄
mind
I always imagined that Cato went after Thresh before coming for Katniss and Peeta because a) Thresh took the backpack for District 2 (which contained the body armor that would make dealing with Katniss’s arrow so much easier) and b) Thresh killed Clove and Cato wanted to avenge her... Although I have no idea how Cato ended up killing Thresh... he was doing pretty well for himself in his grass-y area... Maybe the Gamemakers wanted to punish Thresh for not killing Katniss and generated that thunderstorm and rain to force Thresh out of his refuge, which would give Cato a fair chance to kill him, I guess...
soul
Lol, honestly, since Peeta just generally seems to be motivated by kindness and love/caring, I don’t think it took much for him to keep the star-crossed lovers angle alive (I could easily imagine him actually noticing Katniss in the willow tree early in the Games and offering to take care of the District 8 girl, so the Careers would get the hell out of there, away from Katniss)
Chapter 19:
Peeta, who’s been wounded, is now my ally. [...] I’d loathe any tribute who didn’t immediately ally with their district partner. Besides, it just makes sense to protect each other. - Honestly, this just highlights what a kind person Katniss is, despite her aloof front; her innermost instinct is always to stick together and to protect. Because it doesn’t really make sense for her to team up with Peeta - she knows he’s wounded and won’t be of much help to her, her chances of survival are way better if she stayed on her own, but it’s not something she’d ever consider now that they are allowed to form a team (and only then does she even factor in the whole ‘star-crossed lovers of district 12′ -angle)
Peeta, it turns out, has never been a danger to me. The thought makes me smile. - Aww 😊 (but also, how heart-breaking that the Capitol will do everything in their power to change that, to make Peeta become a danger to Katniss 😢)
He’s very hard to predict, which might be interesting under different circumstances - Okay, but this just makes me think of that exchange in Gilmore Girls when Paris and Rory talk about how you know a guy is right for you:  “Someone who’s compatible but not compatible.” “Yeah, kind of. I mean, you respect each other’s opinions and you can laugh at the same jokes, but I don’t know – there’s just something about not quite knowing what the other person’s gonna do at all times that’s just really exciting.” - fits these two to a T 😏
In fact, I’ve just about decided I’m on the wrong track entirely, that a wounded boy would be unable to navigate getting to and from this water source, when I see the bloody streak - Okay, but how flipping tough is Peeta?! He’s severely injured, with multiple tracker jacker stings and he drags himself to this terrain that is almost impossible to navigate for someone in his condition - a sturdy dandelion, indeed!
“You’re here to finish me off, sweetheart?” - What an entrance after having gone AWOL for quite a couple of chapters 👌🏼👏🏼
“Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.” I jerk my head back but end up laughing. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.” [...] “Katniss?” Peeta says. I meet his eyes, knowing my face must be some shade of green. He mouths the words “How about that kiss?” I burst out laughing - He’s lying in a river bed, slowly dying, and he can still make her laugh 😊
“You know, you’re kind of squeamish for such a lethal person” - It’s such a small comment, but I can’t help but think that Peeta is just kind of intrigued to discover all these little idiosyncrasies that make up the ever-elusive Katniss Everdeen ;)
Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his words. -  Aww, she doesn’t even want to consider him dying, so she spontaneously decides to cut him off with a kiss👀👀 Honestly, at this point Peeta has elicited 2 (!) spontaneous kisses  (the kiss after the chariot ride and this one) from Katniss, who generally isn’t that big on touching people
“You’re not going to die. I forbid it. All right?” - Stubborn, protective Katniss... But also reminds me of their rooftop “date” in CF and the “Then you’ll allow it?” “I’ll allow it” - exchange
I kiss him awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he’d be happy to lie there gazing at me forever. He’s great at this stuff. - KaTNisSs, gurl... 🙄🤦🏼‍♀️
Chapter 20:
But I knew he was injured. And still I came after him. I’m just going to have to trust whatever instinct sent me to find him was a good one. - The very best of instincts, Katniss, don’t you worry😉
Peeta’s struggling to get up when I reach the cave. “I woke up and you were gone,” he says, “I was worried about you.” - Gah, why are the both of them so good?! They just care for and worry about each other 24/7
“How do you feel?” “Better than yesterday. This is an enormous improvement over the mud,” he says. “Clean clothes and medicine and a sleeping bag... and you.” Oh right, the whole romance thing. - Oh Katniss...😐 I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips. I remember my father doing this very thing to my mother and I wonder where Peeta picked it up. - Where did Peeta pick this up? From a time his family was less dysfunctional? Observing couples in the town square? Or is he a fricking disney prince and these things come natural to him? Questions, questions...
“You didn’t sleep,” Peeta says. “I’m all right,” I say. But the truth is, I’m exhausted. “Sleep now. I’ll keep watch.” [...] I test his cheek. Hot as a coal stove. He claims he’s been drinking, but the containers still feel full to me. I give him more fever pills and stand over him while he drinks first one, then a second quart of water. - These two are just too stubborn to take proper care of themselves - good thing that each of them is adamant to force the other to sleep/drink/eat when necessary
“Besides I like watching you sleep. You don’t scowl. Improves your looks a lot.” - When presented with the choice of being flirty vs being a cheeky little shit, Peeta will choose being a flirty cheeky little shit every time 😂
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“I’m going to make soup,” I say. “Don’t light a fire,” he says. “It’s not worth it.” - Okay, but what he’s actually saying is “I’m not worth it” 😭😭
Katniss telling that story about buying Prim’s goat😊... A young buck, probably a yearling by his size. His antlers were just growing in, still small and coated in velvet. [...] Beautiful. - We are all very much aware of Peeta’s appreciation for beauty, but the same does apply to Katniss, too (she’s just overall more pragmatic)
“Was it [the goat] still wearing the pink ribbon?″ he asks. “I think so,” I say. “Why?” “I’m just trying to get a picture,” he says thoughtfully. -  Peeta is so detail-oriented! I have this theory that this is actually something that enables him to overcome his hijacking; we catch glimpses in MJ of how he inches himself out of his condition by asking/focusing on small details or things most people would dismiss as trivial (Katniss’s favorite color, the color of her dress visiting District 7, her Dad singing the Hanging Tree when Peeta was 6 or 7 years old...) and I feel like it makes a lot of sense - his tormentors in the Capitol either wouldn’t have access to distort these moments or not even consider them to have any significance (since they are all about big, flashy gestures in the Capitol), so these memories would remain untouched. Luckily, Peeta seems to live by Robert Brault’s words: “Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things. “
“Really? What did you cost me again?” I ask. “A lot of trouble. Don’t worry. You’ll get it all back,” he says. - Well, he’s going to cost her a lot more trouble in the future - but we know he’s going to make up for it and bring her much happiness, too 😊
“You’re not risking your life for me.” “Who said I was?” I say. [...] “Of course I’m not going.” [...] “You’re such a bad liar, Karniss.” [...] Anger flushes my face. “All right, I am going, and you can’t stop me!” “I can follow you. At least partway. I may not make it to the Cornucopia, but if I’m yelling your name I bet someone can find me. And then I’ll be dead for sure,” he says. - Soo.. their love language is offering to sacrifice their life like it’s nothing, huh?! 😳😅 
Peeta eats without complaint, even scraping out the pot to show his enthusiasm. He rambles on about how delicious it is, - lol, sounds like a husband trying to get back on his wife’s good side after they had a row 😂
I clamp my hand over his mouth and nose hard, forcing him to swallow instead of spit. He tries to make himself vomit the stuff up, but it’s too late, he’s already losing consciousness. - Ah, the most important indicator of true love: having person A force-feed person B a sedative so they can run off to get them life-saving medicine ;)
Chapter 21:
I lie next to Peeta in the bag, trying to absorb every bit of his fever heat. It’s strange to be so physically close to someone who’s so distant. Peeta might as well be back in the Capitol, - Reminds me how in MJ she’s going to be so close to Peeta (mentally/emotionally) while he will be physically so distant (in the Capitol!)
a tiny orange one [backpack] [...] that must be marked with a 12 - Interesting how that backpack is orange, huh? Why is that? Are smaller backpacks generally orange (like the one Katniss already has) to be more visible or is this simply to connect the backpack to Peeta (though we don’t know his favorite color at this point)? Do the Gamemakers care whether Katniss gets a matching backpack? It just seems like an unnecessary detail to throw in🤔
The table has just clicked into place when a figure darts out of the Cornucopia, snags the green backpack, and speeds off. Foxface! - Honestly, this was a truly brilliant move; kudos! 👏🏼
[Clove] carefully selects an almost dainty-looking number [knife] with a cruel, curved blade. “I promised Cato if he let me have you, I’d give the audience a good show.” [...] “I think...” she almost purrs. “I think we’ll start with your mouth.” [...] she teasingly traces the outline of my lips with the tip of the blade. - Okay, but the idea of Clove cutting off Katniss’s lips is just all kinds of terrifying and disturbing 😨
“No! No, I-” Clove sees the stone, about the size of a small loaf of bread in Thresh’s hand [...] Thresh brings the rock down hard against Clove’s temple. [...] and I know she’s a goner. - Interesting how Katniss describes that rock that basically saves her life (or at least kills her assailant) as bread-sized, huh? “Your district... they sent me bread. [...] Conflicting emotions cross Thresh’s face. He lowers the rock and points at me, almost accusingly. “Just this one time, I let you go. For the little girl.” - Katniss mentions the bread from District 11 as a proof of her alliance with Rue (and the recognition of D11) and Thresh spares her; bread keeps saving her life (while it keeps representing acts of kindness)
Cato kneels beside Clove, spear in hand, begging her to stay with him. - I appreciate this small, humanizing moment with Cato
The last thing I remember is an exquisitely beautiful green and silver moth landing on the curve of my wrist. - I don’t know much about North American insects (not that I know that much about European insects either - just recently came across a relatively rare moth on my walks that I had never seen or heard of before) - is Katniss describing a special/noteworthy species of moth? Or is this a more literary symbolism kind of moth? (Just looked up some symbolism meaning of moths: change/transformation, seeking light; power of regeneration in some Native American mythology, hmm...)
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sokkascroptop · 4 years ago
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traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 14
part 1 | part 13 | part 15
A/N: Just a warning, if you all hop in my asks saying Y/N x Katara Rights!! i’ll cut you :) so this chapter is kind of a filler and was so hard to write?? but it’s needed because of literally one part and you’ll know what it is when you read it. Also, Katara and Y/N separately have One Brain Cell that serves as impulse control but when they’re together they cancel out and they would rather die than think.
Y/N couldn’t sleep that night. They had all decided to turn in early since Sokka wanted them up at the crack of dawn, but Y/N couldn’t stop tossing and turning, thinking about the little village on the water down below them that was suffering so much. Suffering because of her nation. Their nation. Katara was right, she felt cold and heartless doing nothing, but Y/N wasn’t sure of what she even could do for them.
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Seeing the rundown fishing village was the worst part of their journey so far. Y/N had never imagined in her wildest dreams that there were Fire Nation citizens living in such poverty. At home, in Capital City, a pretty picture was painted of all the towns in their nation, even towns like this one, where steel mills were built to provide their armies with weapons; actually, especially these towns.
“Look at this place. We have to do something!” Katara said as soon as they stepped onto one of the docks. 
Sokka stopped in his tracks. “Uh no, we can’t waste our time here. We have a bigger mission we need to focus on. These people are on their own.” He waved his hands, signifying the end of the discussion. 
However, Katara was just getting started. Aang and Y/N shared an uncomfy look as the two Water Tribe siblings began arguing. “These people are starving, but you’d turn your back on them? How could you be so cold and heartless?”
“I’m not turning my back!” Sokka said defensively. “I’m just being realistic. We can’t go around helping every rinky-dink town we wander into. We’ll be helping them all by taking out the Fire Lord.”
“Hey, Loudmouth!” Toph smacked a hand over Sokka’s lips. “Maybe we should be a little quieter when we talk about ‘taking out the Fire Lord’.” 
“Katara, be reasonable about this,” Sokka said quietly. “Y/N gets it.”
At the sound of her name, Y/N looked up from where she was dragging her sandal between the slats of wood, trying to become invisible. Katara and Sokka both looked at her expectantly. “Katara, I’m sorry but I think Sokka is right.” She frowned at her own words. “The mission needs to come first. It will help everyone in the long run.”
“Let’s just get what we need and go.” Aang tried to sound upbeat but everyone knew he was just trying to defuse any more arguments. 
Sokka laid out his schedule across their campsite right over Y/N’s lap. As Toph, Aang and Katara bent mud out of the river’s water and boiled it to drink, Sokka and Y/N peered over the paper. She couldn’t read any of Sokka’s messy handwriting but she was able to get the gist of things with the copious color coding. Sokka was crouching over her shoulder mumbling to himself. 
She turned to him. “Does it ever stop?” She asked.
Sokka grunted, “Huh?” he continued to look over the schedule, tracing the lines with a finger. 
“That little hamster-weasel running on the wheel that powers that brain of yours. Does he ever stop?”
Sokka narrowed his eyes and stood up, completely ignoring her which made her giggle. “Because we spent the whole day here, we’re going to have to wake up every morning forty-three minutes earlier to make it to the Fire Lord in time for the invasion.”
“Forty-three minutes,” Katara deadpanned. 
“Well I’m not waking up early,” Toph said, lying back on the dirt.  
Y/N reached up and yanked on the hem of Sokka’s tunic until he paid her attention. “Yeah, me either, bud. I don’t get up before that sun rises.”
“Then we’re just going to have to take potty breaks with food breaks.” 
There was a chorus of, “ewww” from the rest of the group but Sokka looked unperturbed. “It’s efficient!! It doesn’t matter, we have to leave first thing in the morning.” Sokka rolled up his schedule and stomped off to his sleeping bag leaving the four of them to wonder how he became the one in charge.
---
Y/N couldn’t sleep that night. They had all decided to turn in early since Sokka wanted them up at the crack of dawn, but Y/N couldn’t stop tossing and turning, thinking about the little village on the water down below them that was suffering so much. Suffering because of her nation. Their nation. Katara was right, she felt cold and heartless doing nothing, but Y/N wasn’t sure of what she even could do for them.
Y/N sighed and turned over for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night. She grimaced as her shoulder rolled right onto her hair, yanking it painfully from her scalp. She sat up pulling her hair around to the front. She’d never thought much about it before, always putting it in a braid to keep it out of her face while sparring. Now that she was walking around the Fire Nation with it down all the time to hide her identity, she was much more aware of it. She couldn’t remember the last time it was cut, it was as long as Katara’s and the humidity had made it wavy. It was heavy and thick and always made her hot when the sun was shining. 
She ran her fingers through it a couple times, pulling at some tangles (that was another downside to it being down all the time) then slid out of her sleeping bag. She padded quietly barefooted past Toph, who was next to her and walked in the direction of the village. She climbed a little hill and sat with her knees pulled up in the grass overlooking the small water town. Thick black smoke billowed from the towers, even though it was well into the night. 
“Couldn’t sleep?” Y/N jumped at the sudden voice but settled as Katara sat next to her, pressing their arms together. “Sorry.”
“I see that you couldn’t either.”
“Every time I close my eyes I see those villagers,” Katara mused. 
“Me too.”
“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows. “I thought you agreed with Sokka on leaving them to deal with everything on their own.”
“I was wrong,” Y/N admitted. “I think I wanted to ignore what was happening because I didn’t want to believe that my nation would let this happen, but it’s right in front of my eyes. They let these people down. I want to help in some way.” 
“Do you have a plan?” Katara was smiling now. 
Y/N smirked. She hadn’t known the girl for long, but it was like their minds had already melded. “Kind of. But I think I need the help of a really powerful waterbender.”
---
“My mom used to tell me stories about the spirits,” Y/N used her thumb to wipe a line of red paint down Katara’s chin. They were sitting on the edge of the bank near the muddy water. The tiny village was across from them, quiet for the night. “There was one that was my favorite and she was called The Painted Lady. Close your eyes–” Y/N wiped the red paint over Katara’s eyelids and made curling lines over cheekbones. “–she was a river spirit. It’s the best persona you could have for where we are. If anyone sees you they’re going to think that’s who you are.” She wiped the leftover paint on her skirt. 
Katara donned the wide brimmed hat they had found and Y/N helped her position the lace netting around her face. Y/N pulled the hood of her black cloak up and she hopped in one of the canoes. She crouched down on the bench as Katara created a mist to hide the boat and began to bend the water around them and push them towards the factory. 
It took most of the night to distribute the food they had stolen. The boat was only so big and two trips had to be made to get enough which made it all more risky but both of the girls knew that it would all be worth it in the end. When they reached the shore Y/N collapsed with fatigue on the sand while Katara washed the paint off with clean water. 
Katara sat down heavily next to her. She sighed but she was clearly pleased with what they had done. 
“Katara… I need your help with something.”
---
“Are you sure you want to cut it all off?”
Katara hovered over Y/N’s shoulder holding the blade Y/N had stolen from Sokka’s bag when she stole his cloak. Slowly, she reached out and touched a few strands of hair at Y/N’s back.
Y/N nodded. “Right here.” She pointed to her shoulder. She stared straight ahead into the water as she spoke, not trusting herself to look back at her friend. “Hair is our honor. I know it’s silly, it feels so stupid to be so attached to something so insignificant like hair, but I just couldn’t do it before. I think I still believed in the back of my mind that I could go back; that I could be accepted back. But, not anymore. And I don’t think I want to. Not until it’s some place I can be proud of again. I cannot have honor in a nation I don’t even find honorable. I need redemption for myself. I need to prove to myself that I am not like them anymore. And step one is cutting all ties,”–Y/N took a deep breath–”so get to cutting.”
---
The next morning, Y/N woke to shouting. Before she was able to even see clearly she had jumped to her feet and grabbed her sword. Only then did she realize it was Sokka yelling. 
“What’s going on you guys?” Y/N rubbed her sleep bleary eyes. Katara and her had walked back with the sun on the horizon. Neither one of them could have gotten more than an hour of sleep. 
“Appa’s sick! It’s awful!” Sokka wailed.
Y/N reached over and patted the sky bison on the snout. He gave a large groan as if to emphasize he wasn’t feeling well. “Aw, poor guy.”
“I didn’t know you cared so much, Sokka,” Toph said as she scratched under Appa’s chin.
“We might as well just throw out the whole schedule!” One look at the others, who were glaring in his direction, sent him stumbling forward to hug Appa’s huge neck. “And I’m concerned because my big furry friend doesn’t feel well.”
“Uh-huh, sure.” Y/N rolled her eyes in Katara’s direction.
Sokka did a double take. “Your hair.”
Y/N reached up to touch the ends self-consciously. “Yeah.”
“Who’s hair?” Toph asked.
“Y/N cut her hair!” Aang exclaimed. 
Toph’s glassy eyes widened. “How short!?” 
“It’s at my shoulders,” Y/N replied. 
“When did you cut it?” Sokka furrowed his brow.
Y/N shrugged. “Last night.”
Before Sokka could ask more questions, Katara broke in. “I think we should head into town for some medicine for Appa.” 
---
Y/N walked in the back of the group next to Katara. “How did you… you know?” She cocked her head back in the direction of their camp.
Katara smiled mischievously. “I found these purple berries and fed Appa a ton of them. He just has a stomach ache.” Both of them began giggling which earned them a suspicious look from Sokka. 
“What are you laughing about?” 
“Nothing!” Y/N waved a hand around her. “We’re talking about how much the village has changed.”
Indeed the village was much livelier due to the food Katara and Y/N had delivered. And like Y/N suspected, they all thought it was because of The Painted Lady. Shoe had commended her for bringing them food in the night. When they found out that there was no medicine in the town, Y/N knew what Katara had planned for the extra night they were going to have to stay. 
---
Sokka had ignored Y/N the whole day. If he had done so a few weeks ago, she wouldn’t have thought for a second about it. But now, they were friends, they sparred every evening but even when they weren’t sparring they still talked. She watched him plan for the invasion or he watched her and Katara make dinner. 
Silence had never been so deafening. 
And finally the silence was broken during dinner. 
“You said that you went and cut your hair in the middle of the night.” 
The spoon that was halfway between her bowl and her lips almost slipped through her fingers. “Yeah, so?” Y/N asked. 
“Well, Shoe said that The Painted Lady was delivering food to the village in the middle of the night but you didn’t say anything about seeing her.”
“I didn’t see her,” Y/N said defensively. “I’m not sure why you’re interrogating me.” 
“I’m not interrogating, just wondering.”
Y/N watched as Sokka went back to eating his dinner like nothing happened. She narrowed her eyes at him. There was only one reason why he would be asking such weird questions...
“I just think it’s a little weird that you cut your hair in the middle of the night.”
A shot of anger coursed through Y/N’s body. She couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward. “Sokka, go ahead and ask it because I know you’re dying to.”
“Are you The Painted Lady?”
“No,” Y/N dropped her bowl next to the fire. “I’m going for a walk.” 
“I’m coming too!” Toph chirped.
Y/N turned back to look at the girl. “No, you’re not.”
“Too late, Not Painted Lady.” She was already pushing Y/N’s back, guiding them away from the campsite. 
---
“You know I’m really not The Painted Lady,” Y/N said. She began to balance herself on a pointy rock but thought better of it when she felt it begin to shift underneath her. She sent a dirty look in Toph’s direction.
“I know, but Katara is. And there’s no way she knew about an obscure Fire Nation spirit.”
“Um...”
“You guys weren’t necessarily quiet when you came back this morning.”
“Riiight.” Y/N bit her lip. “You’re not going to tell Sokka are you?”
“What Sokka doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Y/N sighed, relieved. “Thank you, Toph.”
“You’ll owe me of course.” Toph began to balance herself on the same rock, Y/N had just been on. 
Y/N laughed. “Owe you?”
“Yeah. Like, sometime, someday I’ll come to you and you owe me for keeping your secret.” Toph grinned. 
“I’m going to come to regret this, I think.”
“Probably.”
---
Y/N stayed behind that night. Sokka had been too suspicious of her and besides there wasn’t much she could do while Katara healed all of the sick villagers. The next night, however, Katara shook her awake after only a few hours of sleep. She held a finger to her lips and led her away from the campsite, far enough so they could talk without being heard. 
“I need your help tonight,” she whispered.
Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. “What are you thinking of doing?”
Katara’s eyes were wide. “Sokka was right. These villagers need to be able to help themselves but they can’t while that factory is still polluting their water.”
“Oh, you’re gonna–”
“Yeah, we’re going to blow it up.”
“I’ll get my sword.”
---
Y/N sure wasn’t expecting Aang to be so open to the idea of ecoterrorism considering his usual passive nature, but he was a big help with destroying the factory. They were lucky that he had woken up and caught them when they were leaving. 
The sun was shining when the three of them got back and it was already starting to warm up. Y/N had her black cloak thrown over her shoulder and she was laughing at something Aang had said. 
“–and when you unscrewed those screws with your sword and water came bursting out and flooded the whole floor.” Aang made an explosion noise and started giggling all over again. 
Katara shushed them both. “Quiet, we don’t want to wake Sokka up–oh hey… Sokka.”
Y/N tucked her cloak behind her back but the damage was already done. “We were just out on a morning swi–”
“Walk,” Katara corrected. Y/N bit her tongue. How had she almost said swim? Swim?! The river was literally polluted with probably dangerous levels of chemicals and she had almost said they went swimming in it. 
“I know you’re The Painted Lady, Y/N! I know you’ve been sneaking out at night and helping the villagers but I didn’t think that you would recruit my sister to help you!”
Y/N was taken aback at the anger that was radiating off of him. It was so different than just a few days earlier when they were sitting in Appa’s saddle joking with one another. As a matter of fact, Y/N wasn’t sure he’d ever shown this much outward fury to her when he hated her. 
“Sokka, leave her alone!” Katara stepped in. 
Y/N grabbed her arm and pulled her back. It was better for him to be mad at her than his sister. “No, it’s fine. He’s right. I shouldn’t have done it.”
Sokka was fuming. “You put this whole mission at risk while you were off being reckless. We’re leaving right now.”
Normally she might have said something to defend herself but instead Y/N just bumped their shoulders together as she walked past him. She packed her bags silently and rolled her sleeping bag before tossing it all into Appa’s saddle. 
Her feelings were hurt that Sokka would think that she would intentionally put them in harm’s way or mess up their mission. But something about his anger seemed misplaced; like there was more to it all. She could have expected that reaction if she had gotten caught, but she hadn’t been. As Y/N tried to rack her brain to figure out what made him tick she heard a buzzing out on the river. Even from where she was standing she could see the Fire Nation soldiers from the factory riding jet skis towards the village. 
“Oh no. No, no, no.” Y/N ran to the cliff overlooking the village and fell to her belly. Katara dropped down next to her and Sokka and Aang on her other side. 
Toph came up last. “What’s going on?”
Y/N watched in horror as the Fire Nation soldiers rode up alongside the dock and jumped off their jet skis. They began to approach the large group of villagers who had come outside to see what the noise was about. 
“What did you do?!” Sokka accused Y/N. She shook her head, unable to speak.
“We destroyed their factory,” Katara muttered.
“You what?!” Sokka yelled.
“It was your idea!” Katara yelled back at him.
“It doesn’t matter whose idea!” Y/N shot to her feet. “I’ve got to help them.”
“You can’t!” Sokka grabbed her wrist to keep her from running away. He was holding on a little too tightly and Y/N desperately wanted to yank out of his grip. She looked at his wild eyes and it finally clicked what the other emotion was. He was scared. Afraid that they were going to get hurt. Afraid that she was going to get hurt. “Those soldiers are out for blood. They want revenge.”
“Well, she’s not going alone!” Katara ripped Sokka’s hand off of Y/N. “We can’t turn our back on people who need us.”
---
Katara and Y/N ran side by side down the trail that led to the water. “I’ll go buy some time. You go put on The Painted Lady costume. If the soldiers think that this village is protected by her they’re less likely to come back.” 
“Got it,” Katara ran off in the direction she had stashed her cloak and hat. 
“I’m coming with you,” Sokka panted as he ran down the hill followed by Toph and Aang. 
“I thought you wanted to leave them,” she retorted. Y/N was done being nice if he wasn’t going to be.  
“I’m not going to leave you.” Sokka held her gaze. “Or Katara,” he added quickly. 
Y/N blinked. “Oh. Okay, come on.” She pushed one of the canoes into the water. “Aang, can you push us over to that dock there?” She pointed to a deserted dock on the back side of the village. The soldiers wouldn’t see them there. “And then go help Katara.”
“You got it!” He said brightly.
“What do I do?” Toph asked, clearly feeling a bit left out. 
“Go make scary spirit noises for Katara,” Sokka instructed.
“Ugh, okay.” Toph ran off among the rocks and cliffs. 
---
Aang used water bending to push their canoe. They each grabbed the wooden dock and hauled themselves up it, their boat floating under the dock and off with the current. No going back now. Sokka and Y/N snuck up to the back of the group of villagers and caught the tail end of whatever the soldier had been telling them. 
“–destroyed our factory! We’re going to cure the world of this wretched village.”
Y/N pushed her way to the front of the group. “No you’re not.” She held her hands in loose fists by her side. She was itching for her sword but she had left it at camp in her rush to get here. 
“And who’s going to stop me?” the large soldier taunted. 
Y/N didn’t spare a second thought. She leapt forward and punched him in the chest twice. The armor made her knuckles ache and sent reverberations up her arms. She ducked under a flaming punch from him and kicked his kneecap. He grunted and fell to his knee. He reached forward and before she could jump away, grabbed one of her ankles, pulling her feet out from under her. She shrieked and twisted midair, landing on her shoulder. 
That’s when a boomerang came from behind her, looping around to hit the soldier in the back of head, only to be caught again by it’s master. It only gave Sokka enough time to pull Y/N to her feet, because the soldier barely flinched. Agni, his head must be thick, Y/N thought. 
The soldier pulled back his fist ready to throw fire at them when it was quickly stifled by a stiff breeze that whipped Y/N’s hair around her face. 
He tried again, only for his fire to be blown out again. He growled and went to try a third time. He was interrupted by another soldier. “Uh, boss? What’s that?” He pointed in the direction that the wind came from. A large wall of fog was moving their way. In the distance, there was a rhythmic thumping that could only be a large boulder being lifted and dropped over and over again on the ground; and Y/N was sure she could hear Appa growling as well. 
The fog parted and Y/N could see Katara standing between two rolling, white clouds. Then, she was moving towards the dock at frightening speed, gliding over the water like she was flying. She landed gracefully and stood there staring at two soldiers in front of her. 
“Come on, let’s move the people further back.” Y/N patted Sokka’s shoulder and the two of them guided the villagers further back onto the platform to keep them out of harm’s way. 
Behind her, Y/N heard a yelp and two of the soldiers ran back to their jet skis and drove off without another thought. Only after they left did their swords hit the deck with a clang, evidently bent out of their hands by Aang and thrown to the sky.
“Stand your ground!” Their leader shouted. Katara bent the water around two more of their jet skis and lifted them high in the air. Y/N watched in complete awe as she threw them sideways into the face of the cliff where they exploded on impact. The rest of the soldiers sprinted back to their jet skis leaving their leader alone. 
“I’ll take care of this myself,” he growled. It was like it all happened in slow motion. He created a whip of fire and bent it at Katara. Y/N was sure it was going to hit her, she didn’t even move to block it. Y/N gripped Sokka’s arm and then Katara was gone. 
From below the deck, Aang had bent the air around Katara and lifted her high above them. Another gust of wind knocked the soldier into the muddy water. Katara floated on mist above him. 
“Leave this place and never come back,” The Painted Lady commanded. 
Y/N had never seen someone swim so fast. That was when she realized she was still holding her breath. She sighed in relief as Katara landed back on the platform. Aang crawled out from under the dock and Sokka and Y/N ran to join them. 
Behind her, the villagers were cheering but the sound was muted because Y/N didn’t care about that, all she cared about was that her and her friends had made it in one piece. 
A loud bang sounded from the shore and everyone went silent, their eyes searching for where the noise came from. 
“HELLLOOOO!” Someone shouted angrily from the bank. 
Sokka and Y/N shared a confused look before she burst out laughing. “Oh my spirits, it’s Toph. She can’t get over here.” Y/N grabbed Sokka’s hand and pulled him to one of the canoes to paddle over and pick up their friend.
---
A/N: So i just wanted to say that I’ve had the hair cutting scene planned from the beginning, I just was waiting for the right time to place it. her hair is cut now. and the fire nation is dropped. and now all i have to say is: IT’S IN THE NEXT CHAPTER. IT. IS. IN. THE. NEXT. CHAPTER
taglist: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon @reclusive-chicken-nugget @astroninaaa @aangsupremacy @beifongsss @crownofcryptids @welovediaaxx @littlefluu @lozzybowe @thebluelcdy @ohjustlookalive @sugarmoongey @fanficdepot @teenbiology @13-09-01 @riespage @davnwillcome @naanlianid @creation-magician @lunariasilver @vintagerose1014516 @bcifcng @rockinearthbending-marauders @francesciak @thia-aep @aphrcditeee @milk-n-cheese @solarsuki @sendnuwudes @humbleseame @my--shitty--art @lovingcupcake51002 @loganrwebb @celia-not-cecilia @treestarrrrrrrr @p--e--a--c--h--e--s @velveteencurls @izzieserra @oddment-nitwit-blubber-tweak @salsasadd @nataliahaslosthershit @awkwardnesshabitat @lanie103 @emogril @im-the-galactic-starfish​ @charlotteisabella​ @alienmotel​
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6peaches · 3 years ago
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Richard Siken - You Are Jeff
1 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road, beyond the hairpin turn, or just before it, depending on which twin you are in love with at the time. Do not choose sides yet. It is still to your advan- tage to remain impartial. Both motorbikes are shiny red and both boys have perfect teeth, dark hair, soft hands. The one in front will want to take you apart, and slowly. His deft and stubby fingers searching every shank and lock for weaknesses. You could love this boy with all your heart. The other brother only wants to stitch you back together. The sun shines down. It’s a beautiful day. Consider the hairpin turn. Do not choose sides yet.
2 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road. Let’s call them Jeff. And because the first Jeff is in front we’ll consider him the older, and therefore responsible for lending money and the occa- sional punch in the shoulder. World-wise, world-weary, and not his mother’s favorite, this Jeff will always win when it all comes down to fisticuffs. Unfortunately for him, it doesn’t always all come down to fisticuffs. Jeff is thinking about his brother down the winding road be- hind him. He is thinking that if only he could cut him open and peel him back and crawl inside this second skin, then he could relive that last mile again: reborn, wild-eyed, free.
3 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road, beyond the hairpin turn, or just before it, depending on which Jeff you are. It could have been so beautiful—you scout out the road ahead and I will watch your back, how it was and how it will be, memory and fantasy— but each Jeff wants to be the other one. My name is Jeff and I’m tired of looking at the back of your head. My name is Jeff and I’m tired of seeing my hand me down clothes. Look, Jeff, I’m telling you, for the last time, I mean it, etcetera. They are the same and they are not the same. They are the same and they hate each other for it.
4 Your name is Jeff and somewhere up ahead of you your brother has pulled to the side of the road and he is waiting for you with a lug wrench clutched in his greasy fist. O how he loves you, darling boy. O how, like always, he invents the monsters underneath the bed to get you to sleep next to him, chest to chest or chest to back, the covers drawn around you in an act of faith against the night. When he throws the wrench into the air it will catch the light as it spins toward you. Look—it looks like a star. You had expected something else, anything else, but the wrench never reaches you. It hangs in the air like that, spinning in the air like that. It’s beautiful.
5 Let’s say God in his High Heaven is hungry and has decided to make himself some tuna fish sandwiches. He’s already finished making two of them, on sourdough, before he realizes that the fish is bad. What is he going to do with these sandwiches? They’re already made, but he doesn’t want to eat them.
Let’s say the Devil is played by two men. We’ll call them Jeff. Dark hair, green eyes, white teeth, pink tongues—they’re twins. The one on the left has gone bad in the middle, and the other one on the left is about to. As they wrestle, you can tell that they have forgotten about God, and they are very hungry.
6 You are playing cards with three men named Jeff. Two of the Jeffs seem somewhat familiar, but the Jeff across from you keeps staring at your hands, your mouth, and you’re certain that you’ve never seen this Jeff before. But he’s on your team, and you’re ahead, you’re winning big, and yet the other Jeffs keep smiling at you like there’s no tomorrow. They all have perfect teeth: white, square, clean, even. And, for some reason, the lighting in the room makes their teeth seem closer than they should be, as if each mouth was a place, a living room with pink carpet and the window’s open. Come back from the window, Jefferson. Take off those wet clothes and come over here, by the fire.
7 You are playing cards with three Jeffs. One is your father, one is your brother, and the other is your current boyfriend. All of them have seen you naked and heard you talking in your sleep. Your boyfriend Jeff gets up to answer the phone. To them he is a mirror, but to you he is a room. Phone’s for you, Jeff says. Hey! It’s Uncle Jeff, who isn’t really your uncle, but you can’t talk right now, one of the Jeffs has put his tongue in your mouth. Please let it be the right one.
8 Two brothers are fighting by the side of the road. Two motorbikes have fallen over on the shoulder, leaking oil into the dirt, while the interlocking brothers grapple and swing. You see them through the backseat window as you and your parents drive past. You are twelve years old. You do not have a brother. You have never experienced anything this ferocious or intentional with another person. Your mother is pretending that she hasn’t seen anything. Your father is fiddling with the knobs of the radio. There is an empty space next to you in the backseat of the station wagon. Make it the shape of everything you need. Now say hello.
9 You are in an ordinary suburban bedroom with bunk beds, a bookshelf, two wooden desks and chairs. You are lying on your back, on the top bunk, very close to the textured ceiling, staring straight at it in fact, and the room is still dark except for a wedge of powdery light that spills in from the adjoining bathroom. The bathroom is covered in mint green tile and someone is in there, singing very softly. Is he singing to you? For you? Black cherries in chocolate, the ring around the moon, a bee- tle underneath a glass—you cannot make out all the words, but you’re sure he knows you’re in there, and he’s singing to you, even though you don’t know who he is.
10 You see it as a room, a tabernacle, the dark hotel. You’re in the hallway again, and you open the door, and if you’re ready you’ll see it, but maybe one part of your mind decides that the other parts aren’t ready, and then you don’t remember where you’ve been, and you find yourself down the hall again, the lights gone dim as the left hand sings the right hand back to sleep. It’s a puzzle: each piece, each room, each time you put your hand to the knob, your mouth to the hand, your ear to the wound that whispers.
You’re in the hallway again. The radio is playing your favorite song. You’re in the hallway. Open the door again. Open the door.
11 Suppose for a moment that the heart has two heads, that the heart has been chained and dunked in a glass booth filled with river water. The heart is monologing about hesitation and fulfillment while behind the red brocade the heart is drowning. Can the heart escape? Does love even care? Snow falls as we dump the booth in the bay.
Suppose for a moment we are crowded around a pier, waiting for something to ripple the water. We believe in you. There is no danger. It is not getting dark, we want to say.
12 Consider the hairpin turn. It is waiting for you like a red door or the broken leg of a dog. The sun is shining, O how the sun shines down! Your speedometer and your handgrips and the feel of the road below you, how it knows you, the black ribbon spread out on the greens be- tween these lines that suddenly don’t reach to the horizon. It is waiting, like a broken door, like the red dog that chases its tail and eats your rose- bushes and then must be forgiven. Who do you love, Jeff? Who do you love? You were driving toward something and then, well, then you found yourself driving the other way. The dog is asleep. The road is be- hind you. O how the sun shines down.
13 This time everyone has the best intentions. You have cancer. Let’s say you have cancer. Let’s say you’ve swallowed a bad thing and now it’s got its hands inside you. This is the essence of love and failure. You see what I mean but you’re happy anyway, and that’s okay, it’s a love story after all, a lasting love, a wonderful adventure with lots of action, where the mirror says mirror and the hand says hand and the front door never says Sorry Charlie. So the doctor says you need more stitches and the bruise cream isn’t working. So much for the facts. Let’s say you’re still completely in the dark but we love you anyway. We love you. We really do.
14 After work you go to the grocery store to get some milk and a carton of cigarettes. Where did you get those bruises? You don’t remember. Work was boring. You find a jar of bruise cream and a can of stewed tomatoes. Maybe a salad? Spinach, walnuts, blue cheese, apples, and you can’t decide between the Extra Large or Jumbo black olives. Which is bigger anyway? Extra Large has a blue label, Jumbo has a purple label. Both cans cost $1.29. While you’re deciding, the afternoon light is streaming through the windows behind the bank of checkout coun- ters. Take the light inside you like a blessing, like a knee in the chest, holding onto it and not letting it go. Now let it go.
15 Like sandpaper, the light, or a blessing, or a bruise. Blood everywhere, he said, the red light hemorrhaging from everywhere at once. The train station blue, your lips blue, hands cold and the blue wind. Or a horse, your favorite horse now raised up again out of the mud and galloping galloping always toward you. In your ruined shirt, on the last day, while the bruise won’t heal, and the stain stays put, the red light streaming in from everywhere at once. Your broken ribs, the back of your head, your hand to mouth or hand to now, right now, like you mean it, like it’s split- ting you in two. Now look at the lights, the lights.
16 You and your lover are making out in the corner booth of a seedy bar. The booths are plush and the drinks are cheap and in this dim and smoky light you can barely tell whose hands are whose. Someone raises their glass for a toast. Is that the Hand of Judgment or the Hand of Mercy? The bartender smiles, running a rag across the burnished wood of the bar. The drink in front of you has already been paid for. Drink it, the bartender says. It’s yours, you deserve it. It’s already been paid for. Somebody’s paid for it already. There’s no mistake, he says. It’s your drink, the one you asked for, just the way you like it. How can you refuse Hands of fire, hands of air, hands of water, hands of dirt. Someone’s doing all the talking but no one’s lips move. Consider the hairpin turn.
17 The motorbikes are neck and neck but where’s the checkered flag we all expected, waving in the distance, telling you you’re home again, home? He’s next to you, right next to you in fact, so close, or. . . he isn’t. Imagine a room. Yes, imagine a room: two chairs facing the window but nobody moves. Don’t move. Keep staring straight into my eyes. It feels like you’re not moving, the way when, dancing, the room will suddenly fall away. You’re dancing: you’re neck and neck or cheek to cheek, he’s there or he isn’t, the open road. Imagine a room. Imagine you’re danc- ing. Imagine the room now falling away. Don’t move.
18 Two brothers: one of them wants to take you apart. Two brothers: one of them wants to put you back together. It’s time to choose sides now. The stitches or the devouring mouth? You want an alibi? You don’t get an alibi, you get two brothers. Here are two Jeffs. Pick one. This is how you make the meaning, you take two things and try to define the space between them. Jeff or Jeff? Who do you want to be? You just wanted to play in your own backyard, but you don’t know where your own yard is, exactly. You just wanted to prove there was one safe place, just one safe place where you could love him. You have not found that place yet. You have not made that place yet. You are here. You are here. You’re still right here.
19 Here are your names and here is the list and here are the things you left behind: The mark on the floor from pushing your chair back, your un- derwear, one half brick of cheese, the kind I don’t like, wrapped up, and poorly, and abandoned on the second shelf next to the poppyseed dress- ing, which is also yours. Here’s the champagne on the floor, and here are your house keys, and here are the curtains that your cat peed on. And here is your cat, who keeps eating grass and vomiting in the hall- way. Here is the list with all of your names, Jeff. They’re not the same name, Jeff. They’re not the same at all.
20 There are two twins on motorbikes but they are not on motorbikes, they’re in a garden where the flowers are as big as thumbs. Imagine you are in a field of daisies. What are you doing in a field of daisies? Get up! Let’s say you’re not in the field anymore. Let’s say they’re not brothers anymore. That’s right, they’re not brothers, they’re just one guy, and he knows you, and he’s talking to you, but you’re in pain and you can- not understand him. What are you still doing in this field? Get out of the field! You should be in the hotel room! You should, at least, be try- ing to get back into the hotel room. Ah! Now the field is empty.
21 Hold onto your voice. Hold onto your breath. Don’t make a noise, don’t leave the room until I come back from the dead for you. I will come back from the dead for you. This could be a city. This could be a graveyard. This could be the basket of a big balloon. Leave the lights on. Leave a trail of letters like those little knots of bread we used to dream about. We used to dream about them. We used to do a lot of things. Put your hand to the knob, your mouth to the hand, pick up the bread and devour it. I’m in the hallway again, I’m in the hallway. The radio’s playing my favorite song. Leave the lights on. Keep talking. I’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice.
22 Someone had a party while you were sleeping but you weren’t really sleeping, you were sick, and parts of you were burning, and you couldn’t move. Perhaps the party was in your honor. You can’t remem- ber. It seems the phone was ringing in the dream you were having but there’s no proof. A dish in the sink that might be yours, some clothes on the floor that might belong to someone else. When was the last time you found yourself looking out of this window. Hey! This is a beautiful window! This is a beautiful view! Those trees lined up like that, and the way the stars are spinning over them like that, spinning in the air like that, like wrenches.
23 Let’s say that God is the space between two men and the Devil is the space between two men. Here: I’ll be all of them-Jeff and Jeff and Jeff and Jeff are standing on the shoulder of the highway, four motorbikes knocked over, two wrenches spinning in the ordinary air. Two of these Jeffs are windows, and two of these Jeffs are doors, and all of these Jeffs are trying to tell you something. Come closer. We’ll whisper it in your ear. It’s like seeing your face in a bowl of soup, cream of potato, and the eyes shining back like spoons. If we wanted to tell you everything, we would leave more footprints in the snow or kiss you harder. One thing. Come closer. Listen . . .
24 You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terr- ible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.
- You Are Jeff by Richard Siken
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sunsoothed · 4 years ago
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bingo
another fic for the chayenzo community fanfiction challenge! i asked for this prompt today and wrote it in [checks watch] two hours? i was inspired. anyway! we now have vincenzo attending his mother’s funeral and having feelings about it. oh and my prompt was “i’ll still be here when you’re ready.”
thank you to @the-chayenzo-community for organising this!
word count: 1164
read on ao3
(sorry for any errors!)
enjoy :]
-
The day rains cold and rains relentless. Service takes less time than necessary, and with Geumga Plaza at his back, Vincenzo sees his mother for the last time. Unfilial son that he is, he has no tears to shed as they lower her casket six feet under, no tears to shed as the mud is filled in and she is gone from the world.
When the priest sums up all that has to be said to honour Oh Gyeongja, mother of one, Vincenzo is only left with the strangest loneliness. Only left with more space between him and the world, between him and the world, only a stretch of quiet.
The tenants of Geumga Plaza leave, one by one, unloading their condolences. Vincenzo nods, bows, receives. And then he follows Chayoung wherever she takes him by the hand, one step behind, lifeless in his steps and his grip.
Riverside. Cold, too. But the rain has let up, and the rocks are only slightly damp.
“They buried a man alive once,” He says. “I saw Father do it. It wasn’t even a big enough coffin for him to fit.”
Chayoung tugs him by the hand to sit, to watch the waves. “What happened of him?”
Vincenzo shrugs. “Never found out. I was only fifteen.”
“Thrilling for a fifteen-year-old to see,” She comments lowly. No vigour in her words. “How are we doing?”
Vincenzo’s eyes dart to her. She’s looking right back.
“I need time.”
She nods. “I’ll still be here when you’re ready.”
Vincenzo looks at the waves.
Chayoung sighs and picks up a stick. “Do you want to make a bingo or something?”
“Bingo?”
“Orphans, lawyers, attractive, incredibly smart, like seriously, too awesome for this world…”
It draws a laugh out of him. A pathetic, dead excuse of a laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.
“I’m glad you laughed,” Chayoung says. She aimlessly throws the stick. “Took a real gamble with that one.”
“What, did you think I would throw you into the river?”
“Wouldn’t put it past you, Mr. Consigliere.”
“Cruel.”
She pets his shoulder in consolation. “If it makes you feel better, I know how to swim.”
“You’re horrible.”
Chayoung takes it, shifting closer to lean on his shoulder. “She’s proud of you, you know.”
Vincenzo looks at the sky. “She would be, wouldn’t she? To have a murderer of a son.”
Chayoung glares at him. “Don’t underestimate a parent’s love. It’s unconditional.”
Vincenzo meets her glare, huffs out a scoff. They’re close enough for his breath to reflect on her nose.
“Trust me,” Chayoung insists. “I have experience in this department.”
He blinks at her, then nods, acquiescing. “Sorry.”
“No need.”
Chayoung exhales in the silence, leans in further, wraps a tentative arm around Vincenzo. The river runs and the wind flows. There are birds singing somewhere.
“Unfilial,” Vincenzo says. “Liars. Living with the most painful thing in life.”
Chayoung moves forward, almost directly in front of him, her hand placed on his back. “What are you harping on about.”
“The bingo,” Vincenzo mutters, looking into her eyes.
She sighs, sliding out of the half-hug and setting her hands on Vincenzo’s shoulders. “I think you should shut up.”
“I don’t think I should shut up,” He replies, defensive.
“Byeonhosa-nim,” Chayoung chastises. “You won’t achieve anything by beating yourself up.”
“But —”
“But then again,” Chayoung cuts in, “I was no different. Alright. You have three minutes to curse yourself out as much as you want.”
“There is a lot I should be getting angry with you about.”
“We’re partners, byeonhosa-nim.” Chayoung says, all matter-of-fact-ly. “And we’re very much the same. Getting angry at me would be getting angry at yourself, no?”
Vincenzo’s face morphs into one of those rare expressions of extreme disgust. Chayoung knows she’s seen right through him. Before he can reply, she stands.
“I’m getting out of your sight, I’m going,” She hurries to say. “Three minutes. I’m timing you.”
Vincenzo watches her walk away from the river with a scowl.
-
Chayoung buys him coffee on the way back. Espresso, in that annoyingly tiny cup, and Vincenzo Cassano. A scene that has become as familiar as her reflection in the mirror. He sips diligently.
“Did it feel good?”
Vincenzo shakes his head with resolution.
“It doesn’t,” Chayoung sighs. “I know.”
Vincenzo downs his espresso in one go.
“Wanna go home?” Chayoung asks. At his nod, she chugs down the rest of her drink.
“Let’s go, then.”
She’s standing, picking her coat off the back of her chair, when Vincenzo speaks in the smallest voice.
“Byeonhosa-nim.”
Chayoung looks at him. He’s looking back, up at her, with the slightest of red in his eyes.
Chayoung plucks his coat off the back of his chair and drapes it over her forearm, then hauls him up by the hand.
“Let’s go,” She repeats. “Let’s take you home, you’ve had a long day.”
-
The only real challenge is parking the car, for the rain had caused a power cut, and the lights in the parking lot were all out. Vincenzo’s hands only shake slightly when he unlocks the door, and he has to lean on the wall a moment before he can regain himself to take off his shoes and discard his coat and fall back-first on the sofa.
Chayoung follows less quietly, banging pots and pans even when she does not mean to. When she has water boiling, she pads to the sofa as well.
Vincenzo stares straight up at the ceiling. His lighter is in one hand, closed and held closed, and his exhales are timed.
“You’re home,” Chayoung says. “You don’t need to hold back at home.”
Vincenzo moves his gaze to hers, blankly. He takes another measured breath.
Then, brokenly: “Will you sit with me?”
Chayoung nods in less than a heartbeat, making herself comfortable the moment Vincenzo sits up. She opens her arms, and at Vincenzo’s mouth open equally as much, she just scoffs and pulls him close.
He lets out a sound of surprise, but settles against her wordlessly.
“It’s okay to need comfort.”
Vincenzo gulps, blinks up at the ceiling. Chayoung can feel the way his throat moves from where his neck is perched on her shoulder. Slowly, he reciprocates the embrace, his arms tight across her back.
Chayoung soothes him with a hand stroking his hair.
“You do trust me, don’t you?” She questions, when the heaviness builds in her throat as well. “I trust you.”
“I trust you,” Vincenzo murmurs, breath hot against her neck.
Chayoung shifts back for a moment, puts a little distance between them without breaking the embrace. The hand she had in his hair traces its way to cup his cheek. She leans forward and kisses his forehead.
“I’ll still be here when you’re ready,” She repeats.
Vincenzo bites his lip, nodding, and blinks hard. When his tears fall, they have a sure shoulder to fall on, and when he crumbles, unquiet, he has a sure embrace to fall into.
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akatsukinojutsu · 4 years ago
Text
𝐼 𝑅𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 - Pain (Yahiko)
That vibrant orange hair... that face. The last time you saw Yahiko, he died as he fell into Nagato and flat onto the ground as the rain cascaded down on his lifeless body. So, why was he here? Now? [originally posted on my ao3 and based off of my oc]
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You cried in the rain as you felt your stomach growl with hunger. The Second Shinobi War left you an orphan.. just a child left to fend for yourself and no adult to care for you. You found yourself digging in dumpsters and stealing food from local restaurants. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you eyed a bowl of rice sitting on the bar of a struggling shop in the heart of Amegakure. You hid behind a bush in the pouring rain as you staked out the establishment, making sure that the owner wouldn't come around and catch you.
When you decided the time was right, you swallowed your fear and took off in a quiet, quick sprint. Quickly you performed a variety of hand signs, "Uma, Tora, U, Tatsu, Saru, Mi." Right eye changing from your typical [E/C] to a shade of deep magenta. Thankfully your seismic ninjutsu techniques aided in your tasks of thieving. You were able to perform jutsus that utilized the vibrations in the Earth and air, giving you the ability to perceive the environment far beyond basic sight. Using a variance of spatial perception, you scanned the area to further ensure no one was around. People appeared like echolocation, their beings displaying like sonar. Threats appeared as red and allies as blue, typically you found yourself sensing those with red, malicious echoes.
A country torn by war and people ravaged by a thirst for blood would do that... threatening even a child if it meant to be a source of release for the anguish. You fought against those who tried to harm you, killing your first human at a young age. Just a kid. You quickly and quietly made your way to the bowl of rice. When your fingers wrapped around the ceramic yet they met another pair. "What the-?!" you yelled out, your gaze meeting that of a set of brown eyes. "Hey, back off. I was here first." a boy with spikey orange hair growled, his eyes narrowed. "Yeah right," you snarled in return and yanked the bowl away, sucking in your lower lip with a gleam.
The orange hair boy leaped toward you but you jumped away and he fell down flat onto his face. You giggled as he pushed himself up and brushed off his knees. But the look in his eyes was the same that you had seen in your own. You could tell he was tired and hungry, just the same as you. However, he barked insults at you, waving his fist in the air wildly.
You sighed in defeat, 'I'm probably gonna regret this...' you thought to yourself. "Look, why don't we share it?" you held the bowl out and it sat in your open palms. His eyes widened as he stopped his yammering and you could sense his guard lowered, his lips turning from hard pressed to a small smile and then into a cheeky grin. His white teeth were the brightest thing in the gloomy atmosphere. Years passed. Jiraiya trained the four orphans that were your group from Amegakure -- Konan, Yahiko, Nagato, and yourself.
The four of your dreamed for a world of peace. Your feelings for Yahiko blossomed since the first troublesome meeting. The two of you shared tender moments, like your first kiss. However, Konan also admired the orange leader of the foursome -- this caused jealous feelings to arise in you.
This caused friction in your relationship with the blue haired kunoichi. She was tender and sweet, her appearance was like that of a doll. You loved her, she was your sister. But you couldn't help but feel envy. Nagato tried to intervene as he wished to keep the peace between the two of you. Konan was aware of the closeness between the orange haired orphan and yourself -- despite feeling envious herself, she wished only the best for her adopted siblings.
The tribulations the four of you endured would last the test of time...
But that kiss, that tender moment... it would outlast any pain.
Yahiko took you out on a scouting mission to get a detailed record of the surrounding landscape of Amegakure for the newly formed Akatsuki. Your orange haired companion practiced sparring with you. He managed to knock you several yards with his Wild Water Wave, coating you in mud and barbs. You yelled loudly in anger and annoyance, shaking your fist. "Yahiko, you asshole!!" you wiped thick mud away from your forehead.
The male ruptured in a fit of laughter, doubling over and holding his side. Your face grew red with embarrassment and you took off in a sprint away from him. His laughter halted immediately when he noticed you had taken off in a fit. You rushed to the bank of the large lake that surrounded the area and stripped yourself from your cloak.
Only dressed in your mesh bodysuit, you quickly dipped into the cool river and began washing yourself of the thick mud. Splashing the water into your face and plucking the burrs from your hair, frustration boiling over -- curse words flowing from your lips like a geyser. Sounds of footsteps caused you to cease your blabbering and turn around quickly.
"Ooooh, Yahiko, you pervert! Quit peeping on me and just leave me alone, damnit!" you shook a fist in the air wildly before dropping it when you noticed a flower being held up to you.
"No pervert, just admiring." he held the flower out further, "Here." You hesitated, your face growing warm with a blush.
You took the flower, it was Baby's Breath, your favorite. Despite the constant raining of Amegakure, the little white flowers grew well beside this specific bank. Yahiko rubbed the back of his head nervously, his face taking on an embarrassed look. "Sorry, [Y/N]." his eyes closed for an awkward grin but you took this opportunity to embrace him. You tightly wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your lower waist.
The two of you stood in the drizzling rain in silence, just embracing the moment for what it was. You pulled away and stared deeply into his brown eyes. He stared back, you pursed your lips and placed a small kiss on his lips. You could feel Yahiko shudder for a moment which caused you to pull away to try and take a step back, however, he reeled you back in. He cupped your face in his calloused fingers, his eyes examined your face as his irises darted around your features. He closed his eyes and pulled your face to his, then he kissed you deeply. It was a moment that lasted a lifetime. However, That dreaded day...dreaded night... it forever haunted your memories and soul.
The other Akatsuki members which included yourself but not Konan, Nagato, and Yahiko were all asleep after a relaxing afternoon of drinks and food. Kyusuke woke you with a yell, yammering loudly about where Yahiko and Nagato had gone off to. The entire group and yourself sprung into action to rush to their aid. However, two adversaries stood in your way and didn't allow any to pass. "[Y/N]! Go!" Kyusuke cried out as he was willing to sacrifice himself to allow you to aid your friends.
You hesitated but he insisted, you performed the hand signs for your environmental vibration melding. With an intense concentration of chakra in your core, you can meld into the vibrations that occurred in the air or water. Evaporating into nothingness and able to traverse the battlefield in invisibility. You were exhausted by the time you reached the trio, Konan was being held by Hanzo up on top of a cliff.
You took off in a sprint and nearly tripped over your feet on the slick ground in a desperate attempt to reach Nagato and Yahiko. But you were too late. You watched as if it happened in slow motion...Yahiko thrust himself into the kunai that Nagato had in his grasp. Your knees buckled and you fell in tandem with Yahiko's lifeless body, screaming out his name. You fled from the two remaining orphans and decided to travel the world; made the decision to run from the pain versus do something about it.
You wanted peace and for a world without war and pain but the pain you felt inside overpowered any pride. You found yourself lodging in Konohagakure for several months, to keep a low profile. Attention was the last thing you wanted. You had committed your fair share of crimes in each village, just to try and feel something again.
It seemed fruitless and it crossed your mind often how long you could continue on like this. Even after meeting a handsome Konoha Tokubetsu Jonin named Genma, it was hard to get close because you just feared the pain. The Jonin was willing to share the pain with you but you refused to allow him to dig deep enough to know the truth of Yahiko and the other two Ame kin. Just when you were ready to call it an end.. An unlikely visitor appeared at your lodge's window late one evening...
Tap, tap, tap... Tap, tap, tap...
A light tapping at your window drew your attention and you pushed yourself up from lying down, then slowly walked toward it, noticing a white paper origami dog. "Hmm.." there was only one thing you could think of when you opened the window to grab the object. "Impossible." you whispered, remembering your blue haired female compatriot. You held the origami dog in your palm, bringing it closer to your face as you studied and examined it; it looked like her work, her jutsu. A faint sound of hissing came from the paper and you realized what it really was. A paper bomb.
You cursed loudly as you attempted to throw it out of the open window and into the city below. But you were too late and flew backward from the force of the explosion. The windows exploded and glass flew like shrapnel into the room. You shielded your face with your right arm, shards of glass embedding their sharp edges into your skin. As you lowered your arm, you noticed two figures now standing in front of you but their identities were concealed by the white smoke. Once it cleared and you recognized the two, your heart skipped several beats. You could feel each thump in your head as the world around you grew still.
Blue haired female. Orange haired male. It couldn't be. No. Impossible!
Your eyes blinked several times quickly as you tried to make sense of what you were seeing. "Konan? Y-Yahiko?"
"Hello, [Y/N]. It has been a long time." Konan spoke, her voice sounded the same but more mature. You remained on the floor, motionless. It was as if you were seeing ghosts. To her right was a face that you could and would never forget but he was different. His face was littered with black piercings, studs and spikes. He too has matured but it was still the face of the one you admired. However, his eyes were no longer those of the warm brown but that of the Rinnegan. Nagato.. he had those eyes.. where was he?
Maybe he was dead and gifted Yahiko them as you've heard of the process before. You wished to see the red haired boy again but you needed to focus on the two that were here now. "[Y/N]." Yahiko's voice was deep and modulated, not the silvery voice of his younger days. "I-I watched you die," you sobbed as your eyes welled with tears but you hurriedly wiped them away to avoid your weakness being shown.
"There is much to discuss, we may assess it later." he lent out his right hand down to you. His fingernails were painted mahogany, his thumb had a white ring. You hesitated to accept his offer but nonetheless you did with a shaky hand; he took it with a firm grip. "Yahiko, I-," he raised his free hand to interrupt you, "Pain." Hmm, odd. Things were odd and not exactly adding up in your head but you chose to put that thought into a different place.
Your mind was scattered with hundreds of thoughts and sensory overload was imminent. You looked over to Konan who gave you a small smile, placing her hand on your shoulder. Paper surrounded the three of you and then you were gone. It felt almost nauseating to feel the rain of Amegakure again. It had been longer than you realized since you been in your homeland. You fled soon after the "death" of Yahiko. Defecting from the Village Hidden in the Rain and becoming known as a missing-nin.
As you traveled between villages, you met shinobi from all walks of life. Little did you know you would see some of them later in your travels and become well acquainted. You came to know each village fairly well as you spent several months in each, under a different guise each time. Konohagakure being your favorite -- Sunagakure was your least. (it made using your ninjutsu difficult as the sand on the ground and in the air made everything "fuzzy")
But home was indeed home, the rainy village felt as nostalgic as it did sickening. Konan used her paper jutsu to whisk the three of you away and dropped off at Pain's Tower. The location was his base of operations and where he and Konan resided on off hours. You stood before a massive tower that dominated over the already tall buildings of the industrialized village. You looked up to try and see its point but the rain dripped into your eyes. You hadn't realized that Pain was not with you and it was just you and Konan.
She touched your shoulder, "Come." her arm dropped from your shoulder and she silently led you into the metal skyscraper. It was dark inside. Long hallways stretched in different directions. "Pain wishes to speak to you," she pointed up, "Atop of the tower." She turned away and walked into the darkness, leaving yo to travel the halls yourself. Gee, thanks. Of course it had to be all the way up there. You hated heights and winced at the thought of traveling to the top of the massive building. It took some time making your way to the top; you stumbled across more locked doors than unlocked. Finally an archway led to a flight of stairs which spiraled upward. 
Your stomach turned as you could feel yourself ascending higher and higher. 'Damn those two...' They always found a way to get you to do things you were afraid of as a way to better yourself. Some things really never change - even if the people themselves seem to. You could hear the rain pouring as you reached the final door. Taking a deep breath, you slowly pushed it open to see Pain sitting at the edge of a tongue that was part of the massive face sculpture which decorated the skyscraper. "Pain..." it felt strange calling him by that "name".
His head turned to the right as he acknowledged your presence. You took a step out the door, closed it but remained pressed against the wood firmly. "Are you afraid?" he asked. You chuckled quietly, your tone taut, "Heights aren't exactly my favorite. Remember?" He hummed as he recalled times you were petrified of traversing a mountainside. He urged you to continue on then and he would now. He pushed himself up and stood, his gaze not leaving the horizon of the urbanized sprawl. Pain teleported from his original spot to directly in front of you. His presence felt intimidating.
You trembled for a moment as you could see his chest rise and fall from beneath the black cloak decorated with red clouds. He raised his hands and rested them on your shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze. Your gaze raised from his chest to meet the Rinnegan eyes that he now possessed. They studied you, irises dilated and constricted as he processed his thoughts in silence. It was as if he could sense the insecurity that you felt. It was like you were in the grasp of a stranger. He pulled you into an embrace and his arms felt powerful as they held you. No longer that headstrong teenager.
But an established man with an ambition -- and a man of great power. It took several moments before you embraced him as well. You wrapped your arms around his sturdy frame and breathed him in, hoping that it wasn't just a dream. You closed your eyes and a smile formed on your lips, a small tear forming in the corner of your right eye. A swift brush of wind stirred you from your brief moment of delight. Your eyes opened as you were now facing downward and over the edge of the building.
You couldn't see the ground as it was hidden underneath a blanket of fog from the downpouring rain. But the only thing that kept you from plummeting to your death was Pain's grip on the back of your shirt. He was dangling you over the edge and one slip of the hand would mean your end. You swallowed your scream but fear still coursed through your veins as your breaths turned shallow and quick. "Do you trust me?" Pain asked.
Nonsense sputtered from your lips as the ground seemed to warp in and out. Just when you thought it was going to be all over, you felt yourself being reeled back up and onto the solid platform landing. "No." you barked as you wiped your face of the rain. He hummed in amusement which you reacted to with a shove. His body did not budge from where he stood. You continued with the shoves as frustration built up and was starting to be released. Several times you spat out insults as to how could he be alive the entire time and not try to find you or give you a sign.
You summoned your chakra in your palms, the seismic blasts pushed Pain back and slammed him into the wall. Konan felt the rumble from inside the building and looked up, curious as to what was going on but refrained from interfering. She knew it needed to stay between the two of you. The man shrugged off the blast as if were like a prod from a child and pushed himself out of the impression created in the wall. He brushed off some debris from his cloak and huffed in annoyance, "I can sense that. But I assure you, [Y/N]. I waited for a reason. I need you to trust me." There was a moment of silence before he continued, "I wish to continue our need for peace but no longer by the means of prior philosophies." he paused as he took several steps in your direction, "Only by means such as direct experiences of anguish would anyone truly want and strive for peace." 
"That is why I dangled you over the edge. Only direct action gives honest results. Often the ones we do not wish to hear." His hands touched your shoulders again and his thumbs rubbed the skin of your chin, "I wished to hear you do trust me, however, that is not realistic at the time." Pain stretched a hand out and swept it along the skyline of Amegakure. "I am a God. No longer a man. My words and thoughts have become absolute." The hand still on your body grasped your chin lightly and his gaze returned to you, "I wish to have you aid me in this conquest. World domination. And there is no other that I wish to have by my side.. than you, [Y/N]." A shocked expression displayed on your face and your pupils dilated at his speech. 
"This world shall know pain. As you and I have both felt." Pain pressed his forehead against yours, the cool metal of his forehead protector brought goosebumps to your skin. His Rinnegan burned through your eyes as you processed his words. "I knew I needed you now and not then. I will make it up in the future, I promise. But only if you wish to be my kin once again, [Y/N]." 
You raised your right hand to his cheek, your thumb brushing against the cool metal of his labret piercing. "Yes."
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siken-archive · 4 years ago
Text
You Are Jeff
1 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road, beyond the hairpin turn, or just before it, depending on which twin you are in love with at the time. Do not choose sides yet. It is still to your advan- tage to remain impartial. Both motorbikes are shiny red and both boys have perfect teeth, dark hair, soft hands. The one in front will want to take you apart, and slowly. His deft and stubby fingers searching every shank and lock for weaknesses. You could love this boy with all your heart. The other brother only wants to stitch you back together. The sun shines down. It's a beautiful day. Consider the hairpin turn. Do not choose sides yet. 2 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road. Let's call them Jeff. And because the first Jeff is in front we'll consider him the older, and therefore responsible for lending money and the occa- sional punch in the shoulder. World-wise, world-weary, and not his mother's favorite, this Jeff will always win when it all comes down to fisticuffs. Unfortunately for him, it doesn't always all come down to fisticuffs. Jeff is thinking about his brother down the winding road be- hind him. He is thinking that if only he could cut him open and peel him back and crawl inside this second skin, then he could relive that last mile again: reborn, wild-eyed, free. 3 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road, beyond the hairpin turn, or just before it, depending on which Jeff you are. It could have been so beautiful—you scout out the road ahead and I will watch your back, how it was and how it will be, memory and fantasy— but each Jeff wants to be the other one. My name is Jeff and I'm tired of looking at the back of your head. My name is Jeff and I'm tired of seeing my hand me down clothes. Look, Jeff, I'm telling you, for the last time, I mean it, etcetera. They are the same and they are not the same. They are the same and they hate each other for it. 4 Your name is Jeff and somewhere up ahead of you your brother has pulled to the side of the road and he is waiting for you with a lug wrench clutched in his greasy fist. 0 how he loves you, darling boy. 0 how, like always, he invents the monsters underneath the bed to get you to sleep next to him, chest to chest or chest to back, the covers drawn around you in an act of faith against the night. When he throws the wrench into the air it will catch the light as it spins toward you. Look—it looks like a star. You had expected something else, anything else, but the wrench never reaches you. It hangs in the air like that, spinning in the air like that. It's beautiful. 5 Let's say God in his High Heaven is hungry and has decided to make himself some tuna fish sandwiches. He's already finished making two of them, on sourdough, before he realizes that the fish is bad. What is he going to do with these sandwiches? They're already made, but he doesn't want to eat them. Let's say the Devil is played by two men. We'll call them Jeff. Dark hair, green eyes, white teeth, pink tongues—they're twins. The one on the left has gone bad in the middle, and the other one on the left is about to. As they wrestle, you can tell that they have forgotten about God, and they are very hungry. 6 You are playing cards with three men named Jeff. Two of the Jeffs seem somewhat familiar, but the Jeff across from you keeps staring at your hands, your mouth, and you're certain that you've never seen this Jeff before. But he's on your team, and you're ahead, you're winning big, and yet the other Jeffs keep smiling at you like there's no tomorrow. They all have perfect teeth: white, square, clean, even. And, for some reason, the lighting in the room makes their teeth seem closer than they should be, as if each mouth was a place, a living room with pink carpet and the window's open. Come back from the window, Jefferson. Take off those wet clothes and come over here, by the fire. 7 You are playing cards with three Jeffs. One is your father, one is your brother, and the other is your current boyfriend. All of them have seen you naked and heard you talking in your sleep. Your boyfriend Jeff gets up to answer the phone. To them he is a mirror, but to you he is a room. Phone's for you, Jeff says. Hey! It's Uncle Jeff, who isn't really your uncle, but you can't talk right now, one of the Jeffs has put his tongue in your mouth. Please let it be the right one. 8 Two brothers are fighting by the side of the road. Two motorbikes have fallen over on the shoulder, leaking oil into the dirt, while the interlocking brothers grapple and swing. You see them through the backseat window as you and your parents drive past. You are twelve years old. You do not have a brother. You have never experienced anything this ferocious or intentional with another person. Your mother is pretending that she hasn't seen anything. Your father is fiddling with the knobs of the radio. There is an empty space next to you in the backseat of the station wagon. Make it the shape of everything you need. Now say hello. 9 You are in an ordinary suburban bedroom with bunk beds, a bookshelf, two wooden desks and chairs. You are lying on your back, on the top bunk, very close to the textured ceiling, staring straight at it in fact, and the room is still dark except for a wedge of powdery light that spills in from the adjoining bathroom. The bathroom is covered in mint green tile and someone is in there, singing very softly. Is he singing to you? For you? Black cherries in chocolate, the ring around the moon, a bee- tle underneath a glass—you cannot make out all the words, but you're sure he knows you're in there, and he's singing to you, even though you don't know who he is. 10 You see it as a room, a tabernacle, the dark hotel. You're in the hallway again, and you open the door, and if you're ready you'll see it, but maybe one part of your mind decides that the other parts aren't ready, and then you don't remember where you've been, and you find yourself down the hall again, the lights gone dim as the left hand sings the right hand back to sleep. It's a puzzle: each piece, each room, each time you put your hand to the knob, your mouth to the hand, your ear to the wound that whispers. You're in the hallway again. The radio is playing your favorite song. You're in the hallway. Open the door again. Open the door. 11 Suppose for a moment that the heart has two heads, that the heart has been chained and dunked in a glass booth filled with river water. The heart is monologing about hesitation and fulfillment while behind the red brocade the heart is drowning. Can the heart escape? Does love even care? Snow falls as we dump the booth in the bay. Suppose for a moment we are crowded around a pier, waiting for something to ripple the water. We believe in you. There is no danger. It is not getting dark, we want to say. 12 Consider the hairpin turn. It is waiting for you like a red door or the broken leg of a dog. The sun is shining, O how the sun shines down! Your speedometer and your handgrips and the feel of the road below you, how it knows you, the black ribbon spread out on the greens be- tween these lines that suddenly don't reach to the horizon. It is waiting, like a broken door, like the red dog that chases its tail and eats your rose- bushes and then must be forgiven. Who do you love, Jeff? Who do you love? You were driving toward something and then, well, then you found yourself driving the other way. The dog is asleep. The road is be- hind you. O how the sun shines down. 13 This time everyone has the best intentions. You have cancer. Let's say you have cancer. Let's say you've swallowed a bad thing and now it's got its hands inside you. This is the essence of love and failure. You see what I mean but you're happy anyway, and that's okay, it's a love story after all, a lasting love, a wonderful adventure with lots of action, where the mirror says mirror and the hand says hand and the front door never says Sorry Charlie. So the doctor says you need more stitches and the bruise cream isn't working. So much for the facts. Let's say you're still completely in the dark but we love you anyway. We love you. We really do. 14 After work you go to the grocery store to get some milk and a carton of cigarettes. Where did you get those bruises? You don't remember. Work was boring. You find a jar of bruise cream and a can of stewed tomatoes. Maybe a salad? Spinach, walnuts, blue cheese, apples, and you can't decide between the Extra Large or Jumbo black olives. Which is bigger anyway? Extra Large has a blue label, Jumbo has a purple label. Both cans cost $1.29. While you're deciding, the afternoon light is streaming through the windows behind the bank of checkout coun- ters. Take the light inside you like a blessing, like a knee in the chest, holding onto it and not letting it go. Now let it go. 15 Like sandpaper, the light, or a blessing, or a bruise. Blood everywhere, he said, the red light hemorrhaging from everywhere at once. The train station blue, your lips blue, hands cold and the blue wind. Or a horse, your favorite horse now raised up again out of the mud and galloping galloping always toward you. In your ruined shirt, on the last day, while the bruise won't heal, and the stain stays put, the red light streaming in from everywhere at once. Your broken ribs, the back of your head, your hand to mouth or hand to now, right now, like you mean it, like it's split- ting you in two. Now look at the lights, the lights. 16 You and your lover are making out in the corner booth of a seedy bar. The booths are plush and the drinks are cheap and in this dim and smoky light you can barely tell whose hands are whose. Someone raises their glass for a toast. Is that the Hand of Judgment or the Hand of Mercy? The bartender smiles, running a rag across the burnished wood of the bar. The drink in front of you has already been paid for. Drink it, the bartender says. It's yours, you deserve it. It's already been paid for. Somebody's paid for it already. There's no mistake, he says. It's your drink, the one you asked for, just the way you like it. How can you refuse Hands of fire, hands of air, hands of water, hands of dirt. Someone's doing all the talking but no one's lips move. Consider the hairpin turn. 17 The motorbikes are neck and neck but where's the checkered flag we all expected, waving in the distance, telling you you're home again, home? He's next to you, right next to you in fact, so close, or. . . he isn't. Imagine a room. Yes, imagine a room: two chairs facing the window but nobody moves. Don't move. Keep staring straight into my eyes. It feels like you're not moving, the way when, dancing, the room will suddenly fall away. You're dancing: you're neck and neck or cheek to cheek, he's there or he isn't, the open road. Imagine a room. Imagine you're danc- ing. Imagine the room now falling away. Don't move. 18 Two brothers: one of them wants to take you apart. Two brothers: one of them wants to put you back together. It's time to choose sides now. The stitches or the devouring mouth? You want an alibi? You don't get an alibi, you get two brothers. Here are two Jeffs. Pick one. This is how you make the meaning, you take two things and try to define the space between them. Jeff or Jeff? Who do you want to be? You just wanted to play in your own backyard, but you don't know where your own yard is, exactly. You just wanted to prove there was one safe place, just one safe place where you could love him. You have not found that place yet. You have not made that place yet. You are here. You are here. You're still right here. 19 Here are your names and here is the list and here are the things you left behind: The mark on the floor from pushing your chair back, your un- derwear, one half brick of cheese, the kind I don't like, wrapped up, and poorly, and abandoned on the second shelf next to the poppyseed dress- ing, which is also yours. Here's the champagne on the floor, and here are your house keys, and here are the curtains that your cat peed on. And here is your cat, who keeps eating grass and vomiting in the hall- way. Here is the list with all of your names, Jeff. They're not the same name, Jeff. They're not the same at all. 20 There are two twins on motorbikes but they are not on motorbikes, they're in a garden where the flowers are as big as thumbs. Imagine you are in a field of daisies. What are you doing in a field of daisies? Get up! Let's say you're not in the field anymore. Let's say they're not brothers anymore. That's right, they're not brothers, they're just one guy, and he knows you, and he's talking to you, but you're in pain and you can- not understand him. What are you still doing in this field? Get out of the field! You should be in the hotel room! You should, at least, be try- ing to get back into the hotel room. Ah! Now the field is empty. 21 Hold onto your voice. Hold onto your breath. Don't make a noise, don't leave the room until I come back from the dead for you. I will come back from the dead for you. This could be a city. This could be a graveyard. This could be the basket of a big balloon. Leave the lights on. Leave a trail of letters like those little knots of bread we used to dream about. We used to dream about them. We used to do a lot of things. Put your hand to the knob, your mouth to the hand, pick up the bread and devour it. I'm in the hallway again, I'm in the hallway. The radio's playing my favorite song. Leave the lights on. Keep talking. I'll keep walking toward the sound of your voice. 22 Someone had a party while you were sleeping but you weren't really sleeping, you were sick, and parts of you were burning, and you couldn't move. Perhaps the party was in your honor. You can't remem- ber. It seems the phone was ringing in the dream you were having but there's no proof. A dish in the sink that might be yours, some clothes on the floor that might belong to someone else. When was the last time you found yourself looking out of this window. Hey! This is a beautiful window! This is a beautiful view! 1 hose trees lined up like that, and the way the stars are spinning over them like that, spinning in the air like that, like wrenches. 23 Let's say that God is the space between two men and the Devil is the space between two men. Here: I'll be all of them-Jeff and Jeff and Jeff and Jeff are standing on the shoulder of the highway, four motorbikes knocked over, two wrenches spinning in the ordinary air. Two of these Jeffs are windows, and two of these Jeffs are doors, and all of these Jeffs are trying to tell you something. Come closer. We'll whisper it in your ear. It's like seeing your face in a bowl of soup, cream of potato, and the eyes shining back like spoons. If we wanted to tell you everything, we would leave more footprints in the snow or kiss you harder. One thing. Come closer. Listen . . . 24 You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won't tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you've done something terr- ible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you're tired. You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and you're trying not to tell him that you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you've discovered something you don't even have a name for.
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unatempesta-dipensieri · 4 years ago
Text
Red Moon
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banner done by the wonderful @dee-ehn​ (thank you bb)
pairing: OT7 x reader
genres: poly!au, fallen angels!au, demons!au
word count: 2095
warnings: feathers falling from the structure of their wings, leaving a very ugly structure (not described in detail), minor character death
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                                           ACT 1, CHAPTER 01
Small impetuous drops rumbled in the pine forest, in the silence only that continuous jingle was audible. The wood is very large and extends over an enormous arch of territory, surrounded by very high white mountains for recent snowfalls. The smell of resin, fir and musk was added to the sweet and relaxing sound of the drops falling on the pines. The landscape was wrapped in a solemn silence, the animals seeking shelter, the pine trees motionless since there was no wind. The whole expanse was colorful with various greens, from light to some dark shades. In the undergrowth, small bushes and moss reigned. On the ground only pine needles, fallen over the years. Suddenly a dazzling light, a noise rang out in the valley, the most intense rain and the amplified noises. A stream of water rushed beyond the valley and swelled visibly as the small drops increased. Namjoon was still lying on the ground, his body was too heavy and numb to allow him to stand up and seek shelter. He tried to move his head slightly to look around and to see if the others were beside him, but his neck hurt. He had taken a hit, so he stopped and closed his eyes, thinking about why he was in that place.
It all started when Yoongi saw that girl. He saw her run through the crowded streets of New York, with headphones in her ears that let out classical music. He had fallen in love with watching her play the piano, her diaphanous white fingers moved gracefully on the piano keys, while a sweet symphony echoed in the room where she was.
The second to see it was Seokjin; he saw her with several plastic bags in her hands, as she tried to go up to the fifth floor of the building. She almost fell from the cloud she was on when she saw that the girl was about to fall down the stairs when she was wrong to put her foot down but was saved by another human who was a few steps away from her. After a few minutes, he saw her enter her apartment and start putting away all the ingredients or products she needed for the home. He loved the fact that she was neat and that she loved to cook.
The third was Hoseok. He saw her while she was teaching girls ballet. Hoseok, besides the angels, had never seen such a beautiful and graceful creature. She managed to be so elegant even when the little creatures made a wrong move, she always smiled and if necessary she explained again every single move to those girls who couldn't understand or perform the exercise; but she also loved the fact that when she wanted to, she knew how to be serious and was able to put back those who did not follow her rules.
The fourth was Namjoon. He saw her walking with a bag over her shoulder in Central Park. Already the fact that the girl liked the vegetation had made the archangel's heart beat a lot. He saw her sit on a bench, and after taking a book out of her bag, start reading. He saw how she began to isolate herself, perhaps, recreating the scenes from the book in his mind. Namjoon could not help but stare at her with a smile on his face.
The fifth was Jimin, although a little hesitant in looking at a human who was not what the superiors had chosen at all. He perched on a cloud and looked at her with bored eyes. He spent several days looking at her until he understood why the others were so taken with her. Looking at her, he understood that she had a pure heart and soul, perhaps even too pure not to be an angel. He fell in love with her innocence and her smile; perhaps, he had never seen such a bright smile in all his years of service.
The sixth was Taehyung, who used the excuse of looking at the human as a moment of relax from the addict of his chosen one. He needed to breathe and to stop watching his chosen drug and slowly bring himself to death, that's why as soon as Namjoon asked who wanted to watch her, Taehyung did not think twice. He loved how the hair strands were arranged, which protruded from the tail, behind the ear, of how, when she had the chance, she went to see some art shows, or when she painted and stained, who knows how, her face.
The last but not least, at least for them, was Jungkook. The youngest of them and the newest. He had fallen in love with a nice and sunny girl like her. He loved the fact that, like him when he was still alive, she found time to play video games, train in the gym, but still managed to find space for friends. He knew that humans were running constantly. He understood that by seeing his chosen one. Single mother of two children, the ex-husband cheated on her with a colleague and gave her up in no uncertain terms, to then go to Norway with the other woman. It was something he hated. Betrayal.
The betrayal was just what he expected of all seven.
An angel heard a conversation that all seven were having and ran to one of the superiors telling him everything he had heard. They didn't even have time to rebel that in no time they were in the room where the Superiors met and discussed very important matters.
"Cherubino Namjoon, I never expected such behavior from you," said one of the elders. If Jimin remembered well he had to be called Jaehyung but he was not very sure.
"And what would I do?" Namjoon asked raising his head and looking at him defiantly.
"I heard that you seven have fallen in love with a human," said the superior, smiling at him, showing him his white teeth.
The boys widened their eyes, their hearts started to beat wildly. They could not speak, perhaps because they were caught in the act. Yoongi clenched his jaw thinking about who might have heard their private discussion.
"Seraphin Seokjin -continued the superior- you know that these emotions are not part of the angels, but of the demons!" he screamed the last word in panic, had wide eyes and a crazy smile, while looking at Seokjin, who remained impassive.
The Superior was about to insult Jungkook when the main door opened. "What do you want now?" he screamed as soon as he saw an Angel enter.
"Sir, we did what you ordered," said the newcomer, bowing.
"Well," said the Seraphin, then turned to the seven angels. "Surely you are wondering what I asked him to do. I ordered him to kill her while she slept. A quick and painless death. "
The Seraphin never expected such a violent reaction, especially from Seraphin Seokjin. He jumped up and threw himself against his body, squeezing his neck with his hands.
"How dare you! And you are the ones who say you love independently and that you are better than demons, but you are worse than them! As soon as a human creates the slightest problem, you get it out of the way! Jaehyung, remember my words, I will make you go through the pains of hell, I will make you die of a slow and painful death! " Seokjin shouted in anger.
Even the others had never seen him in those conditions. His neck and face were completely red, his hands that were still around Jaehyung's neck trembled and his eyes were filled with tears, as were theirs. In an instant the guards seized Seokjin and stopped him with golden chains, preventing him from moving.
Jaehyung got up and after adjusting his white tunic, looked at the boys, then smiled.
"I, Archangel Jaehyung, in the name of God, cause the Cherubino Namjoon, the Seraphim Seokjin, the Throne Yoongi, the Domination Hoseok, the Archangel Jimin, the archangel Taehyung and the angel Jungkook, to be exiled from Paradise for eternity. May Hell welcome you," said the Archangel and with a snap of fingers it began.
Pain began. They could feel their wings cracking, their heads hurting and their stomach turning over. Hoseok looked towards Jimin, and saw the younger bent forward while holding his head in his hands, the wings were completely bare and writhing taking a really bad position, all the white feathers were still bleeding on the ground while in their place, black feathers were growing. He looked at Namjoon and saw that the color of his eyes had changed to a color he could not define, but he looked like a mixture of light orange and yellow, his white hair had become a light lilac. Maybe his partners's hair had changed too but he had no reflective surface to see himself in.
When the wings changed completely, they felt the floor crumble under their feet and fell on deaf ears. Jungkook opened his eyes just when his body crossed a cloud, he tried to stop and trying to flap his wings but a twinge of pain ran all over his body. He looked to the sides and saw that the boys were beside him, Seokjin held the hands of Jimin and Taehyung, while Hoseok held his and Yoongi's. But who was holding Namjoon's hand? He looked slightly further and saw that Namjoon was still passed out, he tried to tell Yoongi to hold Namjoon's hand, but when they crossed a large cloud, he didn't saw him again.
Then the crash came in no time. The good thing was that it was raining like never before so humans would have thought that the sound of their fall was a thunder nearby.
****
Hours passed, the first ray of light illuminated the valley which took on a magical aspect. Everything was now visible: the high white mountains with various clouds full of humidity, the pine forest and the river.
Namjoon opened his eyes still dull and heard rapid steps towards him, perhaps someone was running to help him.
"Namjoon!" Seokjin entered his vision followed by Taehyung, who began to dig to free his body of the earth and the mud that had covered it. He tried to speak but only guttural lines came out of his mouth.
"Hyung, don't try! Keep drinking the water we found at a nearby stream! " Jungkook said approaching his cup-shaped hands.
Hyung? What word was it? What did it mean?
"I know you're asking yourself many things but first we have to get you out of here," Seokjin said giving him a reassuring smile. The oldest, along with the youngest, had always had this reassuring soul, which managed to calm the other five.
"Black looks good on you," Namjoon whispered when he started focusing. “Thanks hyung! Lilac is fine for you instead, ”Jungkook replied with a smile. "What is this hyung, you keep calling?" Namjoon asked looking him in the eye.
"Since I have been dead for about two, three years I think things have not changed much, hyung is used by males to call another boy who is older than him, therefore of logic, I should call you all hyung, to show respect, ”said Jungkook, continuing to remove the mud that had trapped one of the older's legs.
After the two freed him, they gave him a hand to get up and clean himself of the residues that had remained on his clothes and face. "So what do we do now?" Jimin asked, attracting the attention of others. "Let's start walking in search of civilization," Yoongi replied.
They didn't know how long they walked when they started hearing car noises. Taehyung passed a bush and had to close his eyes when a light blinded him. It was the headlights of a car passing by.
"Anyone know what place this is?" he asked when the others had joined him. "This ... this is Seoul, we are in South Korea," replied Jungkook and then continued: "This is the city that brought me to end my life, it shouldn't have changed much and I still remember some things," 
"So what are you waiting for? Show us the way angel, ”Hoseok said putting a hand on his shoulder. Jungkook nodded and the others followed him breathlessly. It would have been an adventure in teaching kids how to behave among humans and how to use the simplest things, like taking a bus.
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trillian-anders · 5 years ago
Text
beguiled
pairing: geralt of rivia x reader
warnings: violence, angst, smut, jealousy
word count: 3.1k
description: part 2 of 3. it’s been decades since you’ve last employed the witcher to help you dispatch of a spectre. you seek him out for him to help you with one more task and jealousy rears its ugly head. 
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The room smelled of mead. Sweet and sticky. Viciously spread through the bodies until they were dripping with it. Words cooed into ears in dark corners, a hand drifting up a skirt, picking at the laces of a dress. A brawl in the middle of the room over something trivial. A misplaced footstep. A bump of a shoulder, who knows. It was not a party unless someone had a broken bone by the end. It was not a party unless at the end someone was in critical condition.
The Queen sat proudly, poised and sure, nary a hair out of place. Sipping merrily but keeping her wits. Her eyes tracing the shapes of the walls, banisters, chiseled marble. Drifting out among her subjects, her warriors, to keep herself aware of what was going on below her pedestal. Looking down at the merry drunken fighters and the pretty little maids they set their eyes on.
As much as every kingdom felt like they were different, superior, they were all the same. Cheating Kings, spoiled wedding beds, hushed trysts in the night. Drinking yourself blind after an economic win, drinking yourself half to death after barely surviving battle. If the blade were not your end, surely it would be your poisoned liver.
Geralt had seen hundreds of these parties and surely, Geralt would see a hundred more. His cup never empty, a pleasant strum in his belly and his pocket full of coin. He was satisfied with his hunt, the unpleasant beasty falling to his sword, and the Queen paid him handsomely. The gift of a free meal and a warm bed to pass the night. Now he just needed a warm body to fill it.
A scent, familiar, stirred his loins. Lilac and gooseberries. The drift of it curling around him and tugging him away from viewing the brawl from his table. He could almost taste her, Yennefer, his nose picking up her scent. It tore him from the throne room, bathing himself in it as the crisp night air met his nostrils. Cup discarded he followed the trail, far into the hedge maze before him. The twisting and turning leading him towards her. Bringing him closer and closer to the center of the maze. To the small pond and bench, a large tree cloaked in the darkness of the night. The source of the scent directly below, but it was not Yennefer.
It was you.
A cheeky grin on your face as he tried to not show his surprise. Jaw set tight. Fists clenched in a subdued anger.
“Witcher.” You grin.
“What are you doing here?” You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, gazing around at the night lilies, the pond still and silent.
“The question dear butcher,” You muse, “Is what do I want?”
“You tricked me.” A statement.
“Your affection for Yenn tricked you,” You scoff, standing, “It just helped me bring you out here,” The castle behind him still standing, lights from the throne room casting shadows on the grass. “If I knew you had such an affection for her previously,” The last time you’d met, when he ripped the Hym’s claws from your back, “I might not have gone so easily on you.” His mind flipping back decades to the feeling of his back digging into the stone floor. He would be lying if it did not cause his dick to twitch in his trousers.
“What is it that you want Mage?” He was annoyed, you could tell that very well, but he could have just left so it is something.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you last…” Stepping towards him, hands on your hips, you peer up into his face almost flush with his chest, “How would you like to make a bit of coin? I have a proposition for you.” A heated glare, it stirs in your loins and sets your belly on fire. The scent of lilacs and gooseberries evaporating from the air.
“What do you want?” It was a bite and you place your hand on his chest, letting it drift up to hold the side his neck, pressing your breasts against him. Close.
“I need you to kill a little beasty for me,” A doe eyed look, your thumb coming to brush his bottom lip, “How skilled are you at alchemy?”
Very skilled it seems. Those little black vials of swallow sat in a satchel on his hip. Something tied to Roach’s saddle quite tightly as he rode. You lead on your own horse, taking him far away from the city and deep into the dark wood surrounding it. The mare’s steady hoof beats sync, and that is the sound between you. You could feel those amber eyes boring into the back of your head, you had not half a mind to wonder what went on in his. Good fortune brought him back to you, good fortune or that shiny gold coin you had kept for decades now.
His grace and mercy.
You turn to look at him, meeting his eye, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” You ask, “Daydreaming about someone else?” You did not expect an answer, and he did not give one. “You know, she told me about the wish.” The steady beat of hooves. “The wish you’d always find your way back to one another.” It felt bitter on your tongue. “And you made that decision after one meeting?” Bitter and sour, a bubbling in your belly. “I should be bereft that you hadn’t the same fondness of me, but then again she’s a bit more attainable. Powerful. It is attractive really. I could understand… if I wanted to.”
“All mages are powerful.” His low timbre, it sends a shiver down your spine.
“I’m sure her Elven blood helps her none.” You muse. A day’s journey it had been. A small village looms in the distance. “We should make camp.” As the sun begins to set. “I’m getting hungry.” By the river you set a fire, Geralt hunting game.
“So why do you need me to kill a drowner?” He asked, dropping a bundle of rabbits by the fire. “What do you need it for?” You furrow your brow, standing from your crouched position digging through your bag,
“I’m not paying you to ask questions Witcher.” He rolls his eyes, sitting heavily on an overturned tree, pulling the game into his lap to skin and prepare to cook. You shrug your coat back on, sitting across from him. The sound of wood crackling, he set the rabbit up on a makeshift spit.
“What happened with the King?” Of course, he would ask. The King whose son was now on the throne, the curse from the Hym gone from the town, but not forgotten. You were sure he heard tales of his own bravery there. Geralt of Rivia, whether it was fame or infamy was anyone’s guess, but if he did their dirty work for them, he could stay.
 “He died thankfully,” You sigh, “His stupid little heart gave out… his son is on the throne now.” Geralt looks across at you, a strange look on his face. “You know, for a Witcher who is supposed to be above emotion you certainly show a lot of it on your face… What?”
He shakes his head, looking back onto the roasting rabbits before saying, “For a moment I wondered how you felt about it, if you felt anything for it anymore.” The guilt. To tell the truth it comes and goes, but you say to him,
“It’s long forgotten.” Which you are sure he does not buy it, but he drops it none the less. “When was the last time you’ve seen her? Yenn?” He shifts in his seat,
“Eight years now.” You hum.
“She’s ever the flighty bird.” An unimpressed stare.
“As if you’re any different.” He jests. You shake your head, sighing contently,
“I never said I wasn’t.” He looks at you for a moment more, debating something in his head before deciding against it. The dinner eaten in silence, you lay under the stars swathed in your coat, the fire burning into embers beside you.
“You were going to leave anyway.” A whisper. “What difference did it make that I told you to leave instead?” Silence. You could hear the crickets in the distance, singing for their night.
“Go to sleep.”
You dipped your toes into the river, the day was warm, you had been sweating in your dress. The outer heavy layers discarded as Geralt walked the length of the river you watched him from the corner of your eye as his amber orbs searched its depths. The Drowner was nearby, that you knew. A ghoulish figure that preyed on pretty milkmaids that were bathing in the river or pulled merchants from a low hanging bridge.
They are necrophages. They drown you and then devour your corpse. And you had brought your lovely Witcher to a nest. The pesky things were severely damaging your trading routes. A little business you had cultivated for yourself, your home being not too far from here, you sold the thing that people wanted the most, a mage’s services.
Your toes in the cold water would hopefully bring them to the surface, pull one out of hiding. You dared to venture deeper, shifting your skirt higher on your hips.
“Stay. There.” He says, eyes moving over the deep depths of the lake. “You always seem to have a death wish.” He murmurs.
“None more so than you,” You muse, kicking your foot in the water. “I’m sure if I were to be swept under, you’d valiantly save me… another song for your little bard to come up with. A tale of a poor maiden and the grizzled Witcher who saved her from a watery grave.” You watched your toes wiggle against the dirt of the lake floor. “Saving her from being eaten by a drowner, so thankful that she rode your cock until morning.” You laugh. But he paused. Settled on one part of the lake’s edge.
“Get out of the water.” Spoken in a panic. You had been in the water to your knees, amusement lost as his eyes met yours, fear. For you. You quickly tread to the edge, feet meeting the harsh rock bed of the lake as you tripped out into the mud, his arm pulling you away fully.
A head bobbed to the surface. It was an ugly thing, scaly and green. A sharp fin sprouted from its back with three spikes and devilishly long talons stretching from its long fingers. You had never seen one alive before, it took your breath away. As one head bobbed, two more sprouted behind him. Three.
“It seems as though the whole nest is hungry.” You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, walking backwards to grab your own sword. Geralt was brave and mighty but a nest of drowners at once was not going to be an easy feat.
“Stay behind me.” The foul creatures trekking through the muck towards the two of you, spreading area attempting to circle. You grip the handle of your sword, the creatures coming close. A swipe of their claws at Geralt’s belly. One moving to the side to encapsulate you. You press your back to his, hand thrusting forward and sending the two beasts on your side back before swinging with your sword and severing its arm from its shoulder. A gooey black blood pouring out. Thick and viscous.
You could hear the smooth movement from behind you, Geralt’s silver sword cutting through the air with speed and precision. Two bodies lay at his feet, one at yours. There is four more. Your hand moves out again, pushing the four back as Geralt lifts his sword and buries it into another, he pushes you out of the way of one’s claws and buries his sword in its belly, grunting and swinging again.  
You huff as the last body falls, gazing over at Geralt. “You’ve got a cut.” You pant, wiping sweat from your brow.
“Very astute of you.” He glares, rinsing his sword off in the lake.
“It’s about to get cold.” You walk over to your horse, grabbing your boots off the ground, “Take their heads and let’s go.” You mount. He looks at you incredulously.
“Go where?”  
“To my home.”
It was simple, mostly brick, one story home. It was not what Geralt was expecting. A garden overflowing with herbs, and a cat out front, lapping water from a dish. He dropped the heads in the front garden, he’d scrape their brain matter out later to make his swallow, something he’s sure you’d be able to help him with seeing as you had all the other ingredients already growing beside your house.
“Take your boots off when you come in.” You peer at him over your shoulder. “I’ll make a bath.”
The tub was steaming as he submerged himself into it. Scalding on his skin and burning on his healing cut as he watched you from across the room, stripped down to your shift. Comfortable enough in front of him for that, or maybe you just did not care.
“Have you always wanted to live alone?” He asked, “Is that why you’re all the way out here?” Truthfully, you did live in the middle of nowhere, but living alone, that was just,
“A side effect from not being able to trust anyone.” You shrug, pulling at the laces of your shift, he gazed at the side of your breast revealed, “A mage’s life is funny, being needed by everyone yet being important to no one.” He watched as you dropped the shift entirely, stepping towards the large basin to sink yourself in across from him. “But it seems like Yenn will escape that life too,” A green monster behind your eyes, “She’s important to you.”
“The djin.” He begins, “I don’t know why that was my last wish… I just…”
“You felt like she was your destiny.” A sad smile on your lips as you leaned over and grabbed the bar of soap beside the basin. “In an instant.” It was almost cruel. But he had to wonder,
“Why are you so jealous of her?” He watched you soap up one leg. “You’re just as beautiful, just as intelligent…”
“But alone.” He watches you dip your leg back under the water, switching to the other, “It wasn’t my choice to become a mage, but it was hers. She wanted this power. She wanted to ascend.”
“And you didn’t?” He watches your head loll to the side, resting your cheek on the side of the basin.
“I thought I did once,” His leg brushes against yours, your feet going into his lap, his hands caressing your calves. “But I thought once I ascended people would have to listen to me, that men would have to listen to me, but I just became… a toy. A pretty toy for men to play with.” You rub your foot on his thigh. “I don’t hate Yenn.” You admit, “She’s a good friend.”
“But you want what she has?” You give him a soft glare.
“Don’t get cocksure. I want someone to think I’m important to them,” You admit, “Doesn’t have to be you.” But you want it to be. A strange affection you had borne for him. It was too much, too open. Too raw. He tugged on your legs, pulling you through the water and to his lap, pressing his lips against yours. The meeting electric, hardening your nipples against his chest, his wet fingers burying themselves in your hair while his mouth consumed you. A soft moan like a prayer on his lips.
Your hand drifts down between you, stroking his growing length, hardening him under your gentle assault. His hand groping your ass, grinding your clit against his pubic bone. The rhythm simple, yet effective, his tongue parting your lips as you cum against him, his hand holding your mouth to his while you squirm. His cock found your entrance and bracing his feet against the bottom of the tub he presses himself into you. That burning stretch you remember making your eyes roll.
The water sloshes over the side of the basin as your hips meet, Geralt grunts as you roll your hips to meet his, your moans swallowed by his tongue. You’re brought over once more, his hand steadying your hips to grind your clit on his pubic bone, he lets you throw your head back, letting a loud moan rip from your throat as your legs begin to shake. He picks up a brutal pace, tugging on your hair and bringing your mouth back to his as you feel him release inside of you.
“Don’t tell me to leave,” He says, “Just don’t tell me to leave.” It is spoken into the column of your throat as he works his way through the aftershocks. It was too intimate. You back away. He is lost you. You step from the tub, leaving him in the grey water.
He watches you dry yourself and refuse to meet his eye. He sighs heavily, leaning his head back against the basin.
“You wouldn’t be so alone if you didn’t push everyone away.” It spills from his mouth before he could stop it. You glare at him; he could see your eyes grow wet. Fuck.
“It wouldn’t matter either way.” You wrap the dressing gown around your body, turning your back to him. He sees you look at a coin on your vanity and watches as you run your fingers across the surface. You sigh, “You know when I was a girl,” A harsh swallow, “You saved my village from a beast I hadn’t known existed.” You picked up the coin and turned to him, walking over to the basin where he stood from the water, your eyes locked with his. “Before you left, I placed myself beside your horse, trying to get a glimpse of an actual real-life Witcher.” He watched you move the coin between your fingers. “You gave me this, I was filthy and starving, and you gave me this coin.” You held it between your thumb and pointer finger, “And I’ve used it to call upon you twice now, but you can take it with the rest of your coin and those drowner heads as payment for relieving me of another problem and you can leave right now.”
“Y/N…” You drop the coin into the tub, it sinks down to his feet and he watches you crawl into your bed, facing away from him.
“Leave.”
 .
.
.
tagged //  @bookish-shristi​ @saturnki​ @jennmurawski13​ @geeksareunique​ @the-soulofdevil​ @tinmunky​ @gifsbysimplysonia​ @alwaysbenhardysgirl @beck-alicious @msgeorgiarae​
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goldeneyedgirl · 4 years ago
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TwiFicMas20 Day 4: Daemons
Greetings! I hope everyone is having a less profoundly irritating day than I am. Also, migraine :( 
Today I bring you a Daemon-verse fic, ala His Dark Materials. Whilst I love the idea of animal souls, and I love Daemon fic, I have never read or see His Dark Materials, so if I’ve messed up on the laws of daemons, I apologise. 
It was intended to follow Alice from awakening through to around her discovery of her past, but I’m honestly on the fence about how the final version will shape up.
The list of daemons is below the cut, which might be spoilery but I think it’s easier to envisage what’s happening when you know what each daemon looks like. 
Onwards! (And thank you for reading!)
--
Cast
Alice – Milo - ??
Jasper – Lula – grey wolf
Rosalie – Beauregarde – white mink
Emmett – Allegra - Sun bear
Esme – Pax – Tree pangolin
Carlisle – Winnie – Giant Anteater
Edward - Khalida - Owl
Bella – Egil - Crane
--
One.
She wakes up in the mud, curled into a ball. Beetles are crawling through her hair, and there is mud – and blood? – dried all down one side of her.
He was curled against the small of her back, and clung to the ragged gown she was wearing as she sat up, blinking confused ruby-coloured eyes.
She does not recognise him at all, does not even know her own name, and he is terrified of her blood-coloured eyes, and what she has become. She has been born anew, and what she doesn’t remember cannot hurt her. She is bright and cheerful and giddy in a way that she has never been before.
“What are you?” she asks eagerly, kneeling before him, smiling.
“I’m you. You’re me. I’m… your soul,” he explains, and her lips into a surprised ‘o’.
“What is your name?” is her next question, one that breaks his heart.
“Milo,” he says. “Me-lo.”
“And I’m …Alice?” she says, suddenly uncertain.
“Yes. You’re my Alice.”
She scoops him up and kisses his nose, and for the first time, he thinks they might be okay.
Two.
They are wrong, and she doesn’t even know it.  
He tries to talk about it, weeks after she awakens as a red-eyed monster.
“I used to be a mouse,” he says suddenly, as they make their way through the forest.
“Really?” she looks intrigued.
“Yes.”
He hasn’t settled. He can feel his skin alight with energy and possibility, and he worries. She was sent away before he ever settled, and then everything happened to them.
Are they broken?
When she asks, he denies remembering ‘much’ from before she woke, remembering their names and the fact that he was a small white mouse with grey ears, which she accepts without question.
He is lying.
He remembers most of everything that happened to them. And whilst he hates her red eyes, and watching her feast on the stray humans that cross their path, he adores this cheerful, joyous self.
She steals a dress in the next town they cross through, a yellow gingham with ties at the back and a pocket big enough for him to ride in, that seems to swallow her up. She keeps the filthy, ratty hospital gown she was found in, wearing it like a cape, until she steals a bag. She carries it in there, along with a little notebook and a pencil, a second dress (dark blue wool, just as stolen.)
She finds a piece of blue ribbon one night, and ties it loosely around his neck, stroking his soft fur, and cradles him, her face so happy.
If this is broken, they’ll be okay.
Maybe.
Three.
They have a peaceful existence for twenty-eight years. They stay in the forests, only sneaking into small towns to steal after she learns that she can hunt wild animals instead of humans. That makes him feel better about what she’s become.
Everything is wonderful to her - the flowers, the weather, whatever her latest outfit is. She would sit for hours, watching a spider spin a web, or sit in the branches of a tree, watching birds build nests, utterly transfixed.
The dreams that made her family turn away from her have become fulling fledged visions of the future, ones that seize her without rhythm or warning. Those visions are for her mind only, though she shares every detail with him - including that of the vampire she calls Jasper.
He’s worried about how she speaks about Jasper, about the look on her face when she’s thinking of him. But Alice promises him that Jasper will only mean good things - like the Cullens.
“We’ll have a family, Milo!” she beams, lying in the soft grass next to a river, stroking him. “A mother and a father and brothers and a sister!”
She had a mother and a father and a sister, and they turned her into this, he wants to say, but he doesn’t. He tucks their lost history in the back of his heart and tries not to worry.
He’s sorrier than he can say when their solitude ends, and they slide into Philadelphia. They break into a hotel room to wash, and Alice seems giddy with excitement; then to a shop where Alice tries on a dozen dresses, and stuffs the toes of a pair of shoes so that they fit properly. She twirls in the mirror, and she’s beautiful. She even steals a bag, little brush and some new ribbon for him, so that he can be fancy too.
“We have to make a good impression,” she informs him, as she pockets a gold tube of lipstick and then some gold hairpins. “It’s our fate."
Their date with destiny goes to plan, though Milo wishes that he had been able to see the visions, to be prepared. This ‘Jasper’ is not just anyone; he’s over six feet tall, with dozens of overlapping scars, black eyes and lank blonde hair. He’s not particularly bulky, but every movement reveals his strength and skill; he practically emits violence - as does the mangy grey wolf at his side.
But Alice doesn’t flinch, doesn’t falter. She gets up and goes to him, her eyes full of him before he ever knows her name. Milo just huddles in her stolen handbag, his ribbon drooping, and waits.
Somehow the impossible happens and Jasper takes Alice’s hand. The wolf - Lula, Jasper calls her - huffs, and Alice scoops up her bag and they walk out into the drizzly night together.
Four.
She doesn’t tell Jasper about them, about how wrong they are. He’s told her before, gently, but she really doesn’t understand, and so it isn’t important. It’s up to him to worry and plan and watch.
Lula keeps her distance, and her eyes see everything. Every odd statement, every little mistake that reveals how broken they truly are. But Lula is not cruel or unkind - she is simply wary, and as more pieces of Jasper’s story comes out, Milo understands why.
The worst day is the one Alice spies a fawn drinking at a stream and stuffs him into Jasper’s hands before taking off.
Jasper audibly gasps, and he flinches but Alice doesn’t even look back.
Milo flickers in and out, and the sugar-glider form vanishes, leaving behind the grey and white mouse form.
“She doesn’t understand,” he manages to tell Lula, trying not to shake at the feeling of Jasper’s hands cradling him, at the faint pulling as Alice strains their link.
Lula whines, and Jasper looks at him carefully, and follows Alice. Her hunt is successful, blood on her mouth, and she beams up at them all without seeing the pity, the new understanding in their eyes. Instead, she splashes some water on her face, and reaches out for him, letting him run up her arm and tuck himself under the collar of her dress. Then she tucks her arm through Jasper’s and smiles up at him.
He wonders, later, if she truly doesn’t understand how broken then are.
Or she just doesn’t care.
Five.
The Cullens seem nice, and Esme is enchanted by Milo, currently a meerkat, who likes high places.
But he worries. So does Jasper. And the Cullens are surprised by the way Lula trails after Alice – the separation is a strain on both Jasper and Lula, but one they bear without flinching to make sure Alice is safe. But Alice and Jasper are connected in a special way, and Alice always jerks slightly when she realises that Lula has stretched as far from Jasper as they can tolerate, always apologetic at her ignorance. She knows that the pull other people experience when separated from their daemons is much more painful than when she and Milo seperate.
She doesn’t ask why, she just accepts it. Sometimes he wonders if she knows, in her heart of hearts, how much they suffered. How there’s no pain now because they ran through all of it - and then some - in the Before.
And then two things go terribly wrong. They are there only a week or so before there is a family hunting trip. He rides in the pocket of Alice’s new coat, and he wants to pretend everything is fine but he can feel the energy under his skin, twitchy and static.
He climbs out and scrambles up her shoulder, around her neck and back again – trying to burn off the manic energy.
He hears her voice – for his ears only. “It’s okay, Milo. Don’t force it.”
He knows. They aren’t settled, it’s going to happen eventually, and they’re going to know.
She still doesn’t understand that they will be ostracised for such a thing. Not Jasper’s warlike history, not his slip-ups, not her gift, but because they are deformed freaks.
It happens with a crack as he hits the ground – from meerkat to pika. He hears Rosalie’s hiss of horror, of gasps and growls at the unexpected shift and he scrambles back to Alice’s ankles, where she scoops him up tenderly.
“Better?” she asks out-loud, gently scratching his neck. He just nuzzles in.
The Cullens are horrified. A splayed-out corpse would be less obscene, less of a tragedy than a vampire with an unsettled daemon.
Jasper is glowering at them, Lula’s glare dark as well. The message is clear - do not draw attention to this. Do not upset them.
Esme’s Pax and Carlisle’s Winnie are both upset, curling together, fear in their eyes. Beau tucks himself deeper into Rosalie’s hair.
Alice looks back up, still happy, still ignorant and no one breathes a word.
The second time, it is an accident, it is instinct and it is terrifying. Jasper and Emmett are wrestling, and Alice is perched on a rock, jeering at Emmett’s attempts to pin Jasper. The rest of the family is nearby – enjoying the peace of the forest.
Emmett and Allegra are nice, and he trusts them. He does.
But Emmett looks at them with a glint and lunges, grabbing Alice around the arms and flinging her over his shoulder with a victorious roar.
A prankster, a gentle giant, a consummate big brother – all things Milo knows about Emmett. But there is a flash of unease in Alice’s mind that he’s not sure she is even aware of, and the way he grabs her is so reminiscent of how they would drag her away back at the asylum… the way she would cry…
Jasper and Lula are pissed, too, but they are a blur as he lunges – a two-pound meerkat that shifts into an almost-seven hundred pound Siberian Tiger that roars at Emmett, whose eyes are as wide as saucers.
Rosalie is shrieking, Esme is clutching Carlisle and Alice is bewildered, but holding her hands out in an attempt to placate him, still upside down on Emmett’s shoulder.
Lula is suddenly at his side, looking tiny and delicate against his new form (and it is entirely new. He’s never been a predator before, never been too big to carry). He growls at her but it is not a threat, but an expression of fear at the way Emmett grabbed at Alice, at that tiny flash in the back of her mind that remembered their suffering.
“Put Alice down, Emmett.” Edward is there, calm and collected. “You startled them. Jasper, can you calm them?”
As soon as Alice’s feet hit the ground, Jasper is by his side, stroking his head and pushing peace and security onto him. Alice is there, too, her arms around his neck and her face buried in his fur. Rosalie and Allegra are clinging to Emmett, who looks shell-shocked.
Esme and Carlisle are having a quick conversation, too low for anyone else to hear.
“I’m sorry, Alice, Milo. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Emmett’s apology is unexpected in the tense silence, and is genuine. His voice is steady and he is sympathetic; Rosalie is giving them murderous looks.
He looks at Emmett for awhile before resting his giant head against Alice’s, his eyes closing and a loud huff leaving his body.  
“Don’t be afraid,” she whispers to him. “We’re safe here. I promise.”
He wishes he could believe her.
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writtentodeath · 4 years ago
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Short myth I wrote as an in-class essay - not my usual stuff, but  I figured I’d share it :)
In the near beginning, after Gaia bore the titans, the giants, the cyclops, after the sea settled and was populated, even after Kronos hacked his father to pieces with his own blade, a baby was born on the new earth. She had no father, except for the mist over the waters of the ocean, and she had no mother, other than that primordial being who bears all. She came into the world of her own doing, without intention past her birth. Where the ocean spray hit the mountainous hills, she crawled out of the mud, and lay on the hillside, silent. 
 Where she lay, a tree sprang up from the ground, cradling her in its arms. She said nothing, but gazed in wonder at the tree. It was there that the goddess Hestia found her. It was  Hestia, daughter of Rhea, sister of Zeus, the hearth-goddess, protector of family, who took the child home and laid her at her own hearth. It was Hestia that gave the child her name: Lethe.
Lethe grew up strong and fair, flaxen-haired and light of foot. She ran in the woodland forest with her dearest friend Artemis, together hunting the boar and the deer. In the mornings, she took dew from rosy-fingered Eos, spreading it on the grass. When she returned home, Hestia would greet her, saying, “My daughter, what have you found today?”
In return, Lethe always smiled, saying, “I have found a joy, my mother,” and told Hestia all that she had done.
Hestia worried for her daughter, because she did not cry. Even as a baby, alone on the hills, no tears left her eyes. Even as a small child, lying on the ground, she did not cry. But Lethe smiled, bright as Apollo’s chariot, and Hestia stilled her heart.
And so it was that Lethe grew. She gave no thought to her past, and rarely did she turn her eye upon her future. All who saw her loved her, for she was kind, and her eyes shone like diamonds.
One morning as she sprinkled dew onto the grass, she found a girl lying in the flowers. The girl was no older than she, but she was thin, and did not have clothes. Lethe took the girl back to her mother, who healed her and gave her clothes. 
Finally, the stranger opened her eyes, seeing Lethe for the first time. When she saw Lethe, she cried out in joy, because she had seen Lethe before in dreams. But she did not remember her name, nor whence she came, nor how she got there. And so Lethe called her Amatis.
One day, Lethe said to her mother, “Behold, Amatis is strong enough to walk with me, and be my constant companion when you and Artemis cannot. Therefore let us be companions, and spread the dew and the dawn as one.”
Hestia frowned, for she saw the future. “Have you yet shed a tear?” she asked.
Lethe laughed, clear and bubbly as a stream. “What use are tears to me? I have nothing to mourn. The dew is enough.”
So Hestia bid her farewell, and Lethe left.
Together, they walked the earth, heralding light and dawn. They drank from the streams and ate the flowers of the earth. They climbed the tallest mountains and trekked across the farthest sea, going on many adventures together, which are recorded in the Chronicles of the Beginning. 
Now, at this time there were no humans on the face of the earth. There was no death, but for the animals, and no one had yet entered the gates of Thanatos. Still, the children of Nyx had their eyes upon the world.
As they walked, Amatis grew tired. Her body ached, her eyes grew old and she told Lethe to lay her down to rest. Thanatos came for her spirit, and she departed the world.
Distraught, Lethe sought the wisdom of her mother. 
“How do I bring my beloved back to me?” she asked, and tears grew in her eyes.
Hestia saw this and feared for her daughter, but answered her nonetheless: “You must go down to my brother Hades, king of the underworld, and beg him for her soul.”
Lethe nodded, and left.
On her way to the underworld, she encountered many trials, but vanquished all of them. She crossed the sky, a thousand leagues across the water, and at her hand many monsters perished and were sent to Tartarus. Still, she did not shed a tear, though the pain of Amatis’ death tore at her heart like a wild animal.
Finally, at the bank of the river Styx, she saw the gates to the underworld. Disguising herself as one of the dead, she sailed across the river on Charon’s ferry. Finally, she had made it.
Walking up to the throne, she pleaded with her uncle for Amatis’ soul. 
“No one may return from the dead,” he said. “I wish to help you, for I love my sister dearly, but I cannot return your beloved to you. However, if you wish, you can stay here. But be warned, my niece: she is dead. She will not know you.”
“Yes,” Lethe said, “she will. I would stay here for her for a thousand lifetimes, and as I love her, so she loves me. She will know my face.”
She left the palace, wandering the fields of Asphodel in search of Amatis. Then, she saw a shade standing alone in the distance. Lethe ran over, and saw that it was Amatis. 
“My love! My love!” she cried, and embraced the other, thanking all the stars and the gods.
Amatis only stared into the distance, unknowing, unfeeling.
“She cannot hear you,” Hades said, cold pity in his voice. “She is not who you once knew. Her spirit is dead. It no longer knows you. It no longer can.”
As Lethe watched, the shade moved away, silent, disappearing into the endless fields.
For the first time in her life, a tear slipped down Lethe’s cheek. Then she did not stop. Once one came, the torrent did not cease. All of her pain flowed out, and it flooded the ground.
A thousand days passed, and she did not stop crying. With each tear, she lost a memory, until every memory of her days with Amatis was gone, and so was the pain. Still, she did not stop.
Hades took pity on her and turned her into a saltwater spring, and the river from her tears turned into the river Lethe, the river of memory. 
Now, whenever a soul enters the underworld, they can drink from the river Lethe, and forget their lives on earth.
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justlookatthosesausages · 5 years ago
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“Lift the Spirit” :: a post-Frozen 2 Elsamaren fanfic
Chapter 3: Clap together, snap together
Elsa watched Honeymaren sleep with a grin filled with love. She was lying down next to her, her cheek against her hand, her elbow propped on the fresh grass. The blonde had gone down to the river to fetch some water for them. But even when she tried to wake her wife up and insist that she should drink, the Northuldra leader refused to sit up from the comfy spot that Elsa had found for them two.
Trips to Ahtohallan however made one thirsty, contrary to popular belief, for humid glaciers didn’t change anything to the effort that was needed to hike them. So the Snow Queen was stubborn.
As Honeymaren went back to sleep, Elsa smirked discreetly and pointed with her palm to the bowl filled with water, then focused to make the drops blob out of it and form a sphere of liquid in the air. She bit her lip to refrain herself from laughing, and moved the sphere to above Honeymaren’s face.
Then she stopped focusing to make all the water fall. The brunette gasped, and accidentally swallowed water in the process. She coughed and grumbled as she wiped her face. Elsa was dead laughing, and even rolled on the grass, her hands on her belly.
“You… DORK! Okay, now I’m fully awake.”
“At least you’ve drunk water.” Mocked Elsa.
Honeymaren grabbed Elsa’s bowl, which was still full, and splashed its content on her wife’s face. Elsa gasped loudly when she received her revenge.
“You’ll regret this.” She glanced, threatening. “Water has memory, and I will not forget that.”
She waved her fingers around her wet face, and all the water on her skin floated to rearrange in another blob, which she threatened the brunette with. Surprisingly, Honeymaren then jolted forward to swallow it, and grinned after she did.
“What the hell?” Blinked Elsa.
“Well, the hares you hunted and cooked for us at noon were a feast, but I’ve got to admit, a bit dry. I’m actually thirsty.”
Elsa lifted an eyebrow. That was just tease, and she knew it.
“But that’s not the only thing I’m thirsty about…” Continued Honeymaren, smirking.
Oh. Here we go.
She turned to be in Elsa’s lap, and they were now sitting face to face, then she kissed her lips, cheeks and neck. The blonde giggled.
“You’re aware that even in the isolated patch of grass we’re in, any Northuldra can see us, right?”
“I don’t care.” Murmured Honeymaren, and Elsa could feel her smile against her skin.
Elsa bent her head and let herself go into the emotions that her wife’s touch conveyed, then she suddenly startled.
“Wait, do you hear that?”
Honeymaren giggled in her neck, her eyes still closed. “Your heart beating louder than drums? Yes dear.”
“No, I heard something up there.”
The brunette smirked from where she was, still kissing her lover’s neck, and quite enjoying how Elsa’s muscles had tensed right at the spot she was aiming.
“Honey, wait.”
The Northuldra was about to tell her she was imagining stuff, when she heard something too. Her head snapped up as she twirled, joining Elsa’s eye level, and starring in the same direction than her. Both women stood alert, keeping their gaze on the trees, but they didn’t know that it actually was a diversion trick. Another enemy was arriving from behind them.
“It’s probably a bear…” Relativized Honeymaren. It wasn’t that far-fetched, because they were often sniffing around their camp for food, especially after Elsa was the one to cook.
Elsa squinted. “No… It’s magical… I can feel it in the air.”
She then focused harder. “In fact…” She realized that the presence also was behind them, and she twirled around, throwing her arm in front of her wife, and grabbing her hand so she would get behind her.
“WATCH OUT!”
Right at the same time, a gooey monster, that had the silhouette of a two and a half meters tall muscular man, lowered its hand on them. Elsa’s fast reflexes saved them as she crafted an ice shield out of nowhere, so fast and so big fueled with her terror that it rose even higher than the size of the creature. It had the shape of a half circle barrier and was unmindfully decorated with a giant Spirits union snowflake symbol. The Snow Queen extended the shield with a flick of her hand, the other still firmly holding Honeymaren’s and forbidding her to make any move. She encompassed them almost entirely in a dome, and fled by the remaining space at the end of it. It protected them from the horrible yet clever double attack, and gave them enough time to flee. Elsa tugged on Honeymaren’s hand to take her in the move, but the Northuldra leader had already understood her plan, and they entered the village at high speed.
“ALERT!! WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!! EVERYONE, GET IN FORMATION!!” Yelled the brunette with all the force in her lungs, and everyone heard, quickly placing themselves in positions.
While the Northuldra were getting prepared, Elsa kept her eyes on the monsters, trying all she could to not get physically repulsed by their hideous appearance.
So that was what dark magic could create… While her magic allowed her to bring snow and ice to life, this one seemed to make mutant humanoid forms crawl and stumble to her, like they were half alive and half dead. With a shiver, Elsa created another layer protection with a three meters tall shield to protect this entrance of the village, especially when she saw that the two monsters had followed them. The creatures didn’t run fast, in fact it was more like they walked in brisk steps, and they seemed a bit dumb because they bumped head first on her shield, due to the blur transparency of the ice. The magic matter they were made of splashed on the surface, but they didn’t die nevertheless; the two big spatters of dark black slime still seemed alive, and Elsa winced in disgust and worry when she saw it shape again. It was like ink had been mixed with mud, and was now getting the silhouette of two men again. Even if one could tell where their head was, they had no eyes, no nose, no mouth, so it made them even more scary in a way. They had long crooked fingers that now grinded, squeaked and creaked along the ice shield as they tried to climb it to get on Elsa’s side. The blonde gasped, and she waved her hands so that the surface would project them away with horizontal spikes. It was effective, for one of them got impaled right away, and the other stumbled to the grass.
The beautiful and comfy grass that Honeymaren and her had been relaxing on barely minutes ago. And that now Elsa would never want to touch again after she saw the way the monster was getting up, leaning on a hand that splattered black goo everywhere.
The creature that should have been killed with her spikes simply turned a bit more liquid to escape the ice stalagmites, shifted a bit on the side, then continued its ascension. It even helped itself with her upgrade to go to the top faster.
“Oh no, filthy slimes, not on my watch.” Muttered Elsa with a frown.
She moved her elbows back, then quickly projected her arms and hands forward, sending the ice shield slide on several tens of meters, projecting the two creatures away with the force of a freight train at full speed. She waved her hands so that the shield would splash them against the ones she had created earlier, and they all smashed in an explosion of ice and goo.
Nobody human could have survived that, for Elsa’s magical ice was as dense and unbreakable as diamond if she decided so, but she figured that they would still stand up harmless afterwards. She crafted a dome above them and flipped her hands down to trap them, but as soon as they reshaped, they started to dig to go underneath. Elsa extended the dome to go deeper in the ground, but she couldn’t do that eternally; also, she wasn’t willing to damage Nature in order to stop two stupid creatures.
She thought about if they deserved to be called stupid. They had an idiotic behavior, by they erratic moves, but they seemed really well made, or designed; she could tell quickly that the absence of eyes or nostrils actually meant that they were attracted to Elsa’s magic, and tracking her like hounds on a trail.
The blonde gulped at how the theory had been correct: she was, since the beginning, the target of those magic attacks. Victor Eiglatson was sadly as clever as she had expected. First, he had created those monsters to attack the camp in her absence to see if the Spirits of Nature could intervene against dark magic, but they couldn’t, because that was how the balance between good and evil was maintained; now, he attacked Elsa when she least expected it. He had waited for Honeymaren, her protector, to fall asleep, before launching the attack.
At the thought, Elsa crafted another ice layer for safety, and turned to search for her wife, inspecting the moves in the camp. To her deepest fear, but she had to admit, not biggest surprise, she realized that the Northuldra camp wasn’t attacked at this only entrance; the monsters had made their way to two other spots. One was taking care of by the tallest people of the camp, and the other by fearless hunters armed to the teeth led by Honeymaren. Meanwhile, the children were being taken care of at the center of the village by everyone remaining. Elsa’s eyes darted from one spot to another to count the assailants; there were six of them. Two for each entrance. She took a guess that Victor couldn’t create more creatures than that. She also noticed that, while it took at least ten people to stop the progress of two monsters, she had been able to take care of her two on her own. But this was no time to brag. It also was no time to admire how beautiful Honeymaren was when she fought, so she shook her head when her eyes checked on the Northuldra leader’s group a bit longer than needed.
Elsa twirled around to trap the two creatures in a giant ice cube, because she knew that an ice cage would be useless; they would go through the bars with their black ink constitution. She then ran to the group that wasn’t helped by Honeymaren, giving enough trust into her wife to hold the attack there longer. She pushed away the monsters with a blast of magic, and the Northuldra of the group smiled at her help and talent. However, the blonde winced and frowned; all of this was only making them gain time. They had to actually kill them, and she didn’t like this idea at all. Now she understood why Nature’s magic didn’t have to interfere with dark one. They didn’t have the same ethics. Elsa was a pacifist, and she pouted a bit at the task that was coming. She rose other walls of ice between the people and the monsters, postponing the moment when she would have to actually harm them.
Also, this use of magic against magic was starting to tire her a bit; she knew that sensation, for she had felt the same when she fought Bruni or Nokk ages ago. It wasn’t like she was raising an ice palace out of nowhere; dark magic was draining all of her forces at each and every defense she crafted. One creature had managed to pass on the left side of the shield, and Elsa’s head twitched to it, sending it back in one swift move of the coldest ice.
“AGH!” Suddenly screamed a Northuldra on Elsa’s left. She was holding her arm, trembling.
“What is it??” Worried the blonde.
“It splashed on me as you fended it off. The goo hurts…”
“It’s burning your skin?” Analyzed Elsa, looking away from the creatures for a moment to inspect the arm of the woman.
Indeed, until now, she hadn’t been touched by the enemy - she would never get a scratch in battle, had once said Anna - so she couldn’t know.
“It’s not exactly like fire…” Winced the Northuldra. “It’s more like it’s toxic. Like nettles mixed with rosary peas…”
Elsa blinked as she processed that. It helped that the victim was the botanist of the tribe, and yet made her confused for a moment. When she understood the sensation that the Northuldra botanist was describing, she hovered her hand above the touched part of her arm, and infused ice to calm the sensible skin.
“There. It will soothe it a bit, and I’ll have a look at it once this is all over.”
The woman blinked at the sensation. “I’m actually feeling way better already. Thank you, Fifth Spirit.”
Elsa nodded, then turned to the monsters. A frown wrinkled her usually calm features.
So they could harm the Northuldra, uh? Oh. That was it. She had a hard time motivating herself to actually harm them, but now she was enraged. When the ice wall crumbled down after the monsters insisted passing through with their long crooked fingers, she screamed and ran head first to the nearest creature, her hands glowing bright blue, her azure eyes vibrant with anger.
Honeymaren turned at her lover’s war shout. She had a peek at her between the trees. Elsa was fighting fiercely, but something made her frown. The Snow Queen rarely sweated, for her magical body always cooled off her skin. So when she saw the pearls of sweat on her forehead as she dodged from the monster’s blow, she knew that the situation was critical.
“ELSA!” She called, panic raising her voice.
“I’m okay!” Yelled the blonde back, not even looking at Honeymaren, which would have distracted her anyway.
She hit the creatures with a snow blast, and it stumbled back, then she waved in a discarding way at the Northuldra leader.
“Keep helping the people! And watch out for the dark matter they’re made off, it’s toxic!”
She could however still feel the insistent gaze of her wife on her shoulder, despite the silence coming from her that meant she had taken in account her advice.
Elsa turned around. “I’m fine, Honeymaren!” She said, but it was a blatant lie. She was out of breath, and perfectly aware that this fight was the most difficult she had ever been in.
“Elsa! Look out!” Screamed a Northuldra, pointing behind her.
The Fifth Spirit turned around, but it was too late. By the time she would raise her hands to make a shield, the creature would have finished extending their long hands to touch her.
When suddenly, something whistled next to Elsa’s ear, and planted loudly in the wood of the nearest tree, piercing the monster. It stumbled backwards with the force of the blow, and hit the three, splashing on the bark.
Elsa let out a gasp of surprise, but also relief to see that she had escaped death by a second. She recognized her wife’s arrows, identifiable by the deep green fletching feathers. The blonde twirled around and saw Honeymaren, face focused, her long bow taut for another shot, a new arrow already placed and ready to go. Elsa could see fire in her brown eyes, even with the distance. Despite the urgency and certainly her panic, Honeymaren had a perfectly composed posture, her whole body optimized to shoot the monster a second time if needed. Elsa had to say, both of those physical traits made her incredibly attractive. She gulped and focused on the way more urgent problem, and dove aside as the creature recovered and moved, refilling the hole the arrow had made in its magical body. Honeymaren immediately shot another arrow, and this time it planted right into where its heart would have been if it were human. The monster got planted to the tree from there, and stopped moving.
Elsa blinked in amazement at the precision of her wife. She had acknowledge it long ago, but now made the mental promise to never mess with her when she had a hunting bow in hand. If she could aim from that far, who knew what she could do when--
An idea suddenly struck Elsa’s mind, with the same force than an arrow.
“They don’t freeze once touched with my magic…” She muttered, thinking out loud. “Because they need to be killed with magic, though like humans.”
To prove that her suspicions were correct, the creatures started to move, like it came back to life, and started to break free from the arrow. It stood tall in front of Elsa, and the latter ran away. It wasn’t to save herself; she was running right to Honeymaren.
“Don’t shoot at it!” Ordered the Fifth Spirit.
“What?!” Frowned the brunette, and she unfocused from her aim to look at her lover. She saw on her face the familiar ‘I have a plan’ expression, and she relaxed her posture. She lowered the bow, the arrow still at the ready, and looked at Elsa.
She then looked down when she saw blue light shimmer from her hands. Elsa was staring at Honeymaren’s arrow and doing her best fo make a replica in ice, as close as she could get, while keeping the same weight and density than a regular wood one. She twirled and waved her hands until her work was done, and a satisfied grin stretched her lips.
“Try with that.”
Honeymaren delicately took the creation in her hands. It was just unbelievable. She spinned the ice arrow in her fingers. It was cold but not too cold, and radiating with strong magic to such a level that even herself could tell. It was like holding a glass replica of her own arrows, but she knew, by its density, that it would be unbreakable.
“Clever, snømus. With that, they will finally die.”
She spent a few more seconds to lift the object and observe the arrow point. Even the hafting was reproduced to perfection.
“Waow, the details are so precise…”
“No time for admiration!” Scolded Elsa.
Honeymaren hurried in her moves. She put her arrow back in her quiver, and placed Elsa’s. She looked in the distance to track the monster, which was getting hit by several Northuldra and their staffs. She aimed perfectly and, with the same astonishing precision than a regular arrow, she planted it right into the monster’s head.
Something incredibly happened then; until now, when the dark creatures were hit, they reshaped, to everyone’s disgust and disappointment. But now that they had been hit at a vital point by Elsa’s magic in a one-shot kill, they dissipated in the air, like when magic was vanishing after use.
A moment of silence appeared as most of the Sami stared at where the creature had been, pointing at the spot with their weapons. They expected it to form again, but when nothing happened, they shouted in joy. Honeymaren smirked at her successful revenge, and shook her head at her lover.
“More, more, more, create more!”
There was no need to say; Elsa was already at task. Several arrows were floating in the air around her as she modeled them in sequence, and Honeymaren grabbed them. She ran back and forth in the woods and between the huts to aim at the five remaining creatures, and in less time than it would take to say it, she killed them one by one. She hopped, she slid, she sprinted, and Elsa observed as she took care of all the enemies by herself. In satisfying ‘thwacks’, the creatures got hit at the head or at the heart, and all tumbled and died instantly like the first one.
When they all disappeared, the Northuldra couldn’t believe their eyes, but soon bursted in cheers. Everyone raised their arms in victory, some hugged, some danced, some jumped.
Elsa jogged to the middle of the camp to join Honeymaren, who was smiling widely.
“Well, I call that excellent teamwork.” Sighed the leader, in relief and pride, seeing how they all had successfully faced the dark magic attack. “Elsa, those arrows are simply amaz--”
She stopped talking when the blonde grabbed her collar and crashed her lips on hers, kissing her deeply. Honeymaren widened her eyes in surprise, and the few Northuldra around grinned and diverted their gaze politely. Elsa sighed in emotion once she stepped out of the kiss. She was slightly taller than Honeymaren, so when the brunette looked up at her confusedly and dizzily, the Snow Queen giggled.
“I had to. You have no idea how seductive you are when you’re archering.” She whispered.
Honeymaren smirked, delighted to see that for once, Elsa had taken the lead.
“Also, you saved my life. Thank you.” Said the blonde on a higher voice.
Her collar grasp turned into a hug, and Honeymaren held her tight with closed eyes.
“I will never let anyone or anything take you away from me, snømus.” She smiled.
=======
The Northuldra leader observed the state of the village, and smiled at how the Spirits now were making their best to prevent any other surprise attack. Gale, who already was a true snitch, made sure to shake every bush to check that no monster was hiding behind it.
The tribe also searched for the dark slime that had splashed on the trees or ground because it could be toxic for the environment. When they saw that no trace of it had remained once they got killed, they understood that just like Bruni’s flames disappear once Elsa stops him, the goo was linked to the creatures it belonged to and had vanished with them. Another thing that had vanished was the possible presence of Victor. The Northuldra had looked everywhere, but there was no sign of him. Only footsteps betrayed his presence, but they led to the river.
Honeymaren prefered it that way, glad that this was over, at least for now. She looked for her wife through the trees. After some time walking, she heard Elsa’s voice in the distance like she was chatting with someone.
“...doesn’t have a second wave. I love you. Bye.” She said when the brunette joined her, sounding like the end of a conversation, and the latter was confused. There was no one in front of her.
“Talking to yourself?”
Elsa turned at her voice, feeling better by her sole presence. “No. I needed to create a memory of me saying that out loud to…”
She waved her hand to be more explicit, and it was like humidity in the air formed around her palm, layers of snowflakes glowing with magic and looking like floating blue sparkles.
Honeymaren smiled widely when she understood, amazed. “To send a message to Anna. You’re going to craft an ice memory of you saying that.”
Elsa smiled, and nodded.
“Holy Ahtohallan, I married a genius.” Exhaled Honeymaren.
The blonde snorted with modesty. “Actually, I’m hesitant… Do you think this is cheating? Sending fake memories as a medium of communication?”  
“Don’t panic, cute Spirit. These are not fake, the one you’re making for example had just happened. You’re not a fraud against Nature’s laws.” Chuckled the Northuldra.
She placed her hands on her hips. “This actually is brilliant. As my favorite redhead once told me: ‘You cracked it!’”
“You’re favorite redhead… Anna?”
“Yes, obviously. I’m not referring to Oaken.”
“I mean, I’m surprised that she told you that. What was the context?”
“We were playing chess. I apparently made her discover a new tactic. Though I still can’t fully grasp how this game works. Sidenote: she desperately wants to beat you.”
“I can pretend that she won the next time we play.” Shrugged Elsa.
Honeymaren puffed as the blonde then waved her hand to send the message.
They both watched the pack of glowing blue snowflakes fly away and leaving the Forest towards Arendelle.
“We should change our minds.” Suggested Honeymaren, already filling her head with a dozen tasks to do to stop thinking about the attack.
“Yeah. I need to fidget with something. I’m gonna go build a cairn or two. Or twenty.”
=======
Anna was standing up and pointing at a giant map on the table of the room, indicating to her daughter the strategic points of the kingdom, but also of other kingdoms, so she could get the big picture on a country scale. Eydis was standing up next to her, very attentive and taking notes, which warmed Anna’s heart and filled her with maternal pride. Her suspicions were correct: the young blonde loved to solve problems. Whether they were a broken chair to fix with tools, an ice shortage in Summer to palliate with thanks to ice harvesting expeditions, or an economical issue that Arendelle was facing. While she smiled as she gave a small pause in her explanations to let Eydis the time to write the advices down, something shimmered on the balcony.
It caught Anna’s eye, but she thought for a moment that it was just a seagull landing on the railing in a white blur. She didn’t pay much attention, and turned to her again.
The thing kept shining, though, so she interrupted her sentence a few seconds later to keep watching by the window.
“And uh… I was saying…” She said in a troubled voice, trailing off.
“Is there something distracting you?” Smirked Eydis. “Or maybe you’re thinking of escaping?”
Anna puffed. “Don’t be silly. I love teaching you. I actually missed these sessions. It’s just…”
She walked to the window to stare through it closely, and suddenly she gasped when she recognized what it was. The redhead violently opened the handle of the door and went on the balcony, staring at what had just appeared. Eydis turned to watch, and with the open window door, she could see it clearly.
Aunt Elsa?
Somehow, Elsa was standing on the balcony, and yet it wasn’t Elsa at all. Eydis squinted and then realized that it was a representation of Elsa, in the same style than the ice statues she made sometimes, and that always amazed by how detailed they are. This one looked like Elsa herself, but entirely artic blue, with almost imperceptible irises.  Another difference was that this one seemed to move, and both the girl and the woman startled when it suddenly came to life and began to talk. The voice was undeniably Elsa’s, but sounded cristaline and echoed weirdly, like if she were talking in a glass bottle.
“Anna. I have to inform you about something. The Northuldra camp has been targeted by a man with dark magic. He can create monsters made of nearly indestructible and unstoppable matter, and he attacked twice to this day.”
Anna’s knees nearly buckled at her sister’s words. Wait what? What what what? Also, she hated already how fast this pre-recorded message was. She couldn’t intervene, because it kept going without interruption.
“My fears had turned to be right. Those creatures are after me, and they are made to kill me.”
The redhead missed a heartbeat at that sentence, and her breathing hitched. The magical message continued, undaunted.
“But what the most important is, I’m safe. Honeymaren is safe too. And the whole tribe has no body to mourn. We only have lost two men yesterday, but that was another attack.”
The message obviously was something that Elsa had made in advance, so she could not hear Anna’s current reaction or replies. However, the elder knew her little sister by heart, and it was like she had predicted what would happen. Right when Anna gasped loudly, Elsa immediately continued with: “Wait, no, don’t panic. I know you well enough to know that you’re already leaving the balcony to grab a coat to come to me, and please listen, because I’m not done.”
Anna grumbled and let go of the coat she had picked up from the wardrobe, and reluctantly went back to the balcony. Eydis laughed at her mother’s reaction, because it was even more funny than if she had been scolded directly; Elsa’s ice statue was now giving a few seconds of time for Anna to come back in front of her. That was just comedy gold.
“You’re back? Okay. Good. So, I actually really don’t advise you to come because those creatures could harm you. I believe in your skills, that’s not the problem, but it would be best if you stay in Arendelle. I need to tell you about who the enemy is too, but that can wait.” “THAT CAN WAIT?!” Jolted Anna, her jaw dropping.
“Shhh”, warned Eydis. “You’re missing the rest of the message.”
“...I’ll get to Arendelle once I’m sure that this current attack doesn’t have a second wave. I love you. Bye.”
Both Anna and Eydis blinked at how the message ended. The ice statue dissolved into tiny snowflakes, and they softly swirled to get carried away by the breeze. Anna’s shoulders slumped.
“What… THE HELL?!”
Eydis snorted. “Calm down.”
“How can I be calm?” Yelled Anna, and her daughter jumped, especially at the way her mother had come back in the room, closed the balcony doors, and grabbed her coat to… Immediately go?
“Hey, she told you to stay here.”
“Yeah, and I’ve stopped listening to her advice long ago.”
“But she’s right! If those things are after her, then you’re safer here.”
Anna pretended she didn’t hear that. She put on her coat, changed her shoes, tied her hair in a more practical way, and shoved random food that was on the table into a satchel that she put across her chest.
“Mother, it’s okay…” Soothed Eydis.
“But she NEVER send messages via ice statues! We usually use Gale, or she comes by herself! Something must be wrong. Or bad. Or both.”
“She doesn’t seem that panicked… Unlike you.” Noted the princess.
Anna wasn’t paying attention anymore. She was out of breath, her eyes darting left and right to check if she needed something else from the room, and she looked like a real mess. Eydis stared at her with a dropped jaw due to disbelief. She startled when Anna suddenly came close to her, kissed her on the forehead, and left the room in a gust.
“I’ll be back when… When I’ll be back!”
“What?” Said Eydis, staring at the corridor.
A moment passed, the room now completely silent, and she blinked in utter confusion. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. She knew that her mother often had improvised behaviors like those, but she was flabbergasted. Eydis kept blinking, and one of her blonde dutch braids fell off her shoulder as a perfect representation of her disarray.
=======
Kristoff smiled at Eydis’ sudden entrance in the building.
“You escaped your lesson again, uh?”
Since she was a teenager, his daughter despised theory classes, and prefered to learn manual things, so it wasn’t the first time she was entering the ice harvesters guild in a hurry. However, this time, she was not running away from an angry teacher, and in fact, Anna’s geopolitics lesson had been interesting.
The ice harvesters greeted their princess with nods and waves, and Kristoff smiled from the seat where he was, at the end of the table, which was reserved for him as both the King and the Official Arendelle Ice Master and Deliverer. He put his grinning face on his fist.
“You know, you remind me of your mother when she was younger. There was a time when she would cross the village running and find me here, in panic after she broke something in the castle or set the kitchens on fire.”
“Father!! You have to come to the castle right now.”
The blond’s smile fell and his face twisted to concern. Eydis indeed looked like her mother, but when the latter was utterly panicked. And something told him that Anna also was in a similar state as they were speaking.
“Why?!” He asked, standing and joining her on the threshold.
“Mother just received an ice message with a magical statue. I mean, a magical message with-- whatever. It’s from Elsa, and she’s imagining the worst. But I saw the message and it’s actually not that bad! And Elsa told her to not go to the Forest! But she didn’t listen! And she’s leaving anyway--”
“She’s leaving?” Repeated Kristoff, his eyes wide.
Eydis didn’t even have to answer. He already was running to the castle, and she followed him close. But it was too late. When they arrived to the courtyard, the stables doors were opened wide, with the evidence that she had just left.
Kristoff sighed. “Did she at least take food with her?”
“Well, mostly chocolate and strawberries.”
=======
Elsa was satisfied to see on the following morning that everything that had been broken during the battle had been fixed, and that they had managed to place everything back to where it was. Her hands on her hips, she smiled with a huff as she watched the village returning to its casual activities.
“Fifth Spirit, may I ask for your help?” Came a timid voice behind her, and she turned.
It was Hilka, a girl from the family living a hut away from the reindeer paddock. She was really shy and also very pious, so Elsa wasn’t surprised to see that she had took off her hat and was placing it above her heart, not daring to look at Elsa directly, and instead staring at the dirt on the ground.
“Please, Hilka, you can call me Elsa, I told you already.” Assured the blonde in a soft and smiling voice.
The girl blushed. “But I’d never dare to be this familiar with a magical divinity...”
“If that makes you uncomfortable, you can keep calling me Fifth Spirit, it’s okay. But I swear that I don’t mind it if you call me Elsa. In fact, none of us, the Spirits, mind.” She searched for an example. “See, you don’t have a name for the Wind Spirit, and yet since Olaf nicknamed them Gale, I call them Gale, and they don’t mind at all. You know, except from Nokk, who’s the most susceptible being I’ve ever seen, no one actually cares.” She giggled.
It made the Northuldra smile, and she seemed relaxed. She finally dared to look at her in the eyes, and Elsa realized for the first time that she had emerald-like irises.
“Could you please help me lift a barrel… Elsa?”
“Sure!” Chimed the blonde, delighted by the way she dared now.
They walked to the barrel in question, and the Fifth Spirit noted that indeed, they usually asked Gale or an Earth Giant to help with it, but they were busy keeping an eye on the village’s surrounding to prevent any attack.
Elsa casually waved her hand, and a gust of snowflakes surrounded the barrel in a magic blue glow, lifting it in a cold wind, and moving it to the spot Hilka was pointing at, a few meters away.
“There. Anything else?” Smiled Elsa once she conjured her snowflakes down to delicately place the barrel on the floor of the stock.
Hilka seemed to be in complete awe to the miracle that her deity had just made. Elsa had casually lifted a very heavy barrel that would have taken two strong men and a lot of effort to move away. Now, Elsa was just looking at her like she had simply picked a twig from the ground, and was asking for the next instruction.
“That… That is all.” Muttered the girl.
“Okay. Tell me if you need anything else.”
The Northuldra blushed and nodded vividly, then Elsa walked to her hut. On her way, she heard Gale going down from the treetops to float above her head, and the Wind Spirit shared a feeling, that resonated to Elsa’s heart. It brought a flash of the Elemental Stones to the blonde’s mind, and she smiled.
“Yeah, the four of you are forgiven and really helpful.” She said, interpreting the meaning of her emotion. “Together, we--”
Gale suddenly tugged on her double train, making her lose her balance. “Hey! Rude. I was talking. What did I tell you about not interrupting people?”
The magic wind however was insistent.
“What is it?”
They floated above her, making different sounds.
“Approaching from the South?” Frowned Elsa, interpreting Gale’s chimes.
She now understood why the Wind Spirit had exhaled that familiar feeling earlier. They had been mentioning the actual Elemental Stones place, not what they represented.
“Who is approaching from the South, Gale?” Inquired the Fifth Spirit, her worry rising, because she knew that Honeymaren was there picking up weeds with other Northuldra.
Gale then made a very specific chime, and it was absolutely unique; it meant one and only word.
“Anna?!”
Elsa twirled around, nearly tripping on the ground covered with pine needles as she suddenly dashed to the South. No time to summon Nokk. She was running so fast that wind was whistling in her ears, and even Gale had to rush to follow the athletic and dramatic human.
=======
Honeymaren startled when she heard hooves coming at full speed, someone heavily jumping to the ground and running to her. If that wasn’t enough to announce Anna’s arrival, the redhead appeared panting and haggard right in front of her, and yelled her name the instant she recognized her.
“HONEYMAREN! WHERE IS ELSA?!”
If the Northuldra leader wasn’t used to the Arendellian sisters’ drama, she would have stumbled to the grass instantly. There, she only dropped her jaw and tried to talk, but it was hard to ignore Anna’s dress that clearly wasn’t meant for riding.
Apparently, her processing took half a second too long to Anna’s taste, for she grabbed her shoulders and dove her teal blue eyes in hers. It felt like she inspected her very soul, and Honeymaren’s words vanished in her mouth even more.
“WHAT HAPPENED?!”
The brunette’s ears rang at how hard she was yelling. The other Northuldra stopped picking up the weeds to stare at the scene with worry.
“What is going on?!”
“Woah, Anna, okay, hello, and sweet Ahtohallan, calm down.”
“I don’t want to be calm! Is Elsa safe?”
“I… Yes, she is! What the heck, Anna?! Are you okay?”
Anna squinted suspiciously. “If I am okay? You’re not calling me ‘fire head’. Something must be wrong.”
Honeymaren blinked, torn between the need to burst of laughter or be seriously concerned for her sister-in-law. “Now you’re overinterpreting.”
“I just hate it when she uses ice statues memories as a message!”
The brunette finally understood what this was all about, from the context of Anna’s dress to why she was in such distress. The Queen was breathing loudly, close to hyperventilation.
“Yeah, I know. But she had no choice. The Wind Spirit is bu--”
“ELSA!!” Screamed Anna suddenly, looking over Honeymaren’s shoulder, and the latter jumped at the sudden shriek. Once again, her ears rang, and she winced.
While the redhead ran at full speed to her elder, she shook her ear lobe. “Ouch.”
“ELSA!”
She hugged her fiercely, but it was short; she then stepped back and checked her arms, legs, waist, face… Elsa couldn’t say anything for how rushed and abrupt her gestures were. Then, once Anna made sure that she was alright, she slapped her arm.
“AOH! What was that for??” Winced the blonde.
“Being an idiot!”
“I’m sorry…?!” Recoiled Elsa. She had no idea what was going on.
“Why did you send me an ice statue message?” Growled Anna, and the Northuldra watched as it looked like she was her mother in this moment.
“Gale’s busy, and the Spirits in general aren’t really in the mood to leave the Forest. We’re all a bit… Disarrayed…”
Anna’s scolding frown transformed into a worried expression. “Do you mean the Spirits, or the Northuldra?”
Elsa’s hands, which had remained in Anna’s after the hug, started to retract. The redhead gripped them.
“Elsa.”
“I’m fine. I’m fine now.”
Anna didn’t even bother to get the nuance. She didn’t believe her. She stared right into her eyes, and Elsa blinked at the intense irises. They were filled with wisdom and foresight, sharpened with her years of monarchy and motherhood. In addition, there also was the experience of years of knowing her elder sister by heart, and Anna recognized the mimics Elsa had when she minimized her actual mood to not panic her sister.
“No you’re not.”
Elsa came closer to insist. “I swear I am.”
The Queen still didn’t seem convinced. When Honeymaren approached, she turned to her vividly. “Maren, is she saying the truth? Is she really fine?”
“Hey!” Gasped Elsa.
The brunette chuckled at how she preferred to ask her to be sure. “She is. No trick there. She’s only very concerned, but you know, that’s just Elsa in the daily.”
Anna sighed. “Good.”
Elsa let go of her younger’s hands to cross her arms with a pout. Anna winced at her reaction. “Excuse me. It’s just that at least, with Maren, I know if you’re hiding something.”
The blonde kept pouting.
“Why did you come to the Forest!?”
“Well, happy to see you too.” Replied the Queen with sarcasm.
“I specifically told you not to come!!”
Anna put her hands on her hips.
“As far as I know, I’m a grown adult, and can do whatever the hell I want. Also, I HAD to. Did you even proofread your message, you dramatic oaf?!”
Elsa blinked as she moved back at the scold. “Uh… No…”
Anna sighed longly and rubbed the top of her nose with her thumb and index. “Sometimes I wonder if you didn’t leave your brain cells up the North Mountain.”
Honeymaren bit her lip as she sadly looked at Anna, then at her wife. “Elsa, she hates it when you use ice statues for messages.”
The blonde was so preoccupied by other topics that her mind didn’t grasp the problem, and she frowned as she was about to ask ‘Why?’.
And then it hit her.
She distinctly remembered the day Ahtohallan had showed memories of Anna curled in that pit, sobbing after she thought that she had lost everything. And one sinister thing had started this long night of sorrow. The last message that Elsa could send before freezing eternally for going too far in the glacier: an ice statue.
With an audible gasp, the Fifth Spirit then realized that it meant that Anna had thought, when she received her message in Arendelle, that it was her last way of communication before tragedy.
Without any further addition, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Anna, clenching tight as she buried her face in her shoulders.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean… I didn’t realize…”
She passed a hand in her younger’s back in case she needed to cry.
Yet Anna didn’t cry. She simply sighed. Of course Elsa hadn’t meant it. But what kind of crazy situation were they in that she forgot it when she sent the message?
She gave a pat to Elsa’s shoulder to tell her that she was fine with it, and that she had long figured that it was done by mistake.
The blonde looked deeply sorry as she detached from the hug. “Now it makes sense on why you wanted to come... Wait... How did you come? I thought that Kristoff didn’t want to have another reindeer after Sven.”
“I rode a horse. I had to think fast. In every meaning of the term: I rushed to the royal stables and asked for Rask.”
Elsa lifted surprised eyebrows, and looked over her sister’s shoulder to see the now fully grown horse calmly walking to them, as Anna had hurried to go down to finish her route running.
“Rask!” Exclaimed Elsa, her face lighting up.
The horse neighed, and she petted his head with affection, scratching him in the right spots.
“Hey there. It’s been a while, uh?”
“That’s a very athletic horse.” Commented Honeymaren, impressed.
“He is.” Smiled Elsa. “He proved his talent many years ago. And his name definitely suits him.”
“So you’ve rode him already. I was wondering how you knew him.” Smiled her wife.
“Yeah, she did.” Confirmed Anna. “Fun fact: it also was out worry and need to go fast to a neighbor land.”
Elsa giggled, admitting that the parallel was funny. She looked at Rask’s eyes. “You live through the sisters’ drama, don’t you?”
The horse snorted, like he actually laughed from that.
She took off his bridle, saddle, stirrups and bags, and gently led him to the water point where the reindeers were.
Anna and Honeymaren followed, mute at the expert way she did that.  
“I hope we have enough hay for him to eat. We obviously weren’t expecting you.” Said Elsa.
Anna frowned.
“Wait, if you didn’t expect me, then how did you know I was there?”
“Gale is standing guard. I mean… Floating guard...? So they told me when they saw you arrive at the horizon. They make a specific sound when they’re carrying a letter from you. I quickly learned that this sound meant ‘Anna’. Honestly, this is one of my favorite sounds to hear in the world now.”
“Aww. And what’s your top favorite?”
“Hmm… That’s a good question. Probably Honeymaren’s laugh.”
The Northuldra eye-rolled as she was petting Rask. “And I’m the romantic flirt, uh?” She mumbled.
The redhead had lifted her head to the sky and observed the Wind Spirit guarding the camp, shaking the pine trees branches on their way. “They’re doing a great job.” She smiled. “Now I understand why you didn’t want to send me a letter, to not disturb their work. Or maybe their duty?”
Honeymaren shrugged at the nuance. The Spirits were so dedicated to protection that it could also be called ‘vocation’.
“If you understand, does that mean that you’ve forgiven me?” Asked Elsa, only half joking.
“Certainly not.”
Elsa pouted at Anna’s frown. It made Honeymaren laugh, and she lifted her hands to put one on each sister.
“Come on, you two. Let’s sit down.”
“No, wait, no time to sit down.” Rejected Anna. “Maren, you will stay here. Elsa and I, we go back to Arendelle and suit up, with outfits and weapons, warn everyone about the situation, and come back ASAP.”
Elsa blinked. “Waow, waow, calm down. No ASAP. You will get some rest. Even if we go and come back on Nokk, you can’t make all of that in one go. Have some sleep.”
“Look who’s talking!”
“Listen to her.” Advised Honeymaren.
Anna stared at her judgingly. “Of course you defend her. Tsk, I miss the time you two weren’t married and you were on my side, Maren.”
After some insistence, they sat down on a lying trunk.
“I’ll need to talk to Mattias when we’re in Arendelle.” Announced Elsa. “We had planned to ask him something through a letter too, and, well…”
“What was it?” Asked Anna.
“He knows who Victor Eiglatson is.”
Anna rose an eyebrow. “What does Victor Eiglatson have to do with any of that?”
Elsa and Honeymaren widened their eyes. “You know him too?” They said, in one voice.
The redhead stared at them. “Why, yeah. We put him in jail years ago with Mattias, for insulting the Crown. He recently escaped.”
She thought it would be impossible, but the two women dilated their eyes even more.
“Escaped? Someone escaped Arendelle’s prison?” Asked Elsa.
“Why didn’t you tell us anything about him?!” Asked Honeymaren.
Anna blinked. “Do you guys ever read newspapers?” She reproached.
Then it hit her that no, obviously. And that was why her sister-in-law made that remark. “Sorry, but you didn’t ask about him. Also, the investigation is still ongoing to know how he managed to escape. He’s the first one in the History of Arendelle to do that.”
“Anna.”
“What?”
“He’s the man who attacked us with his monsters. He has dark magic.”
“Ohhh, that would explain how-- WAIT, WHAT?!”
The Queen’s eyes darted from Elsa’s face to Honeymaren’s, and they both nodded. She blinked confusedly. “Are you certain? Did you ask Ahtohallan?”
They nodded again.
“Holy cheese and crackers. Now I’m terrified. But it all makes so much sense.”
“Let me guess…” Started Honeymaren. “The hate he has towards the Crown… He insulted Elsa’s name, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, how do you know?”
The brunette sighed. “He has some common past with the previous Fifth Spirit. And it’s obvious that they were enemies.”
Anna nodded slowly. “Yes… It would just explain everything. He used to be in the Arendelle army, Mattias can tell you more about him. He kept proclaiming that Elsa should die.”
Elsa gulped and looked down. “Well, he’s consistent. And tenacious. He tried to kill me, after all.”
Anna looked at her, feeling heartbroken for her.
“Hey, Elsa… Are you okay?”
She didn’t have the time to put her hand on Elsa’s back that the blonde stood up. “I’m fine. Do you want tea?”
“Uh… Yeah, actually, it’s a good idea.”
She watched her walk away, but had enough experience to know that Elsa needed some time alone with her thoughts. The blonde had obviously used this suggestion as an excuse to make the most of the round trip to the hut where they dried the herbs. Anna sighed and looked at Honeymaren.
“She’s feeling guilty for the two deaths, right?”
The brunette nodded sadly. “You know her. And she still think that she doesn’t deserve anyone’s love. As her sister, you surely know what I mean…”
“And as her wife, you do as well.” Snorted Anna.
They giggled a bit. It was best to laugh about it.
“You should see her face when she opens your letters next to me.”
“Maybe I send her too many…” Winced the redhead. “Sometimes I feel like I’m too talkative, or too worried, or too curious.”
“Don’t. She loves them. She even keeps them and stores them neatly in a wooden box. It’s in a chest in our hut.”
“Oh my goodness, really? It’s so nice!” Grinned Anna.
Elsa had come back with three mugs, holding them in a way that would have burned the hands of anyone not fitted with ice and snow powers.
“You keep all of my letters?” Asked Anna, her smile not leaving her while her sister sat down.
“No, I actually always give them to Bruni and ask him to burn them down.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha. I’m dead laughing.”
Elsa smirked and sipped, watching her with a side glance. Anna smiled, because she saw in her azure blue eyes that all guilt had gone, now replaced by tease. She loved that Elsa could switch from one mood to the other.
They drank their tea peacefully, though their topic of discussion remained about this mysterious Eiglatson.
=======
Elsa hugged Honeymaren tight, her face buried in her neck, taking in her natural scent.
“I love you.” She muttered, like she was still shy to say it, even after 4 years of marriage.
Honeymaren slightly pulled back to look at her lover. “I love you too, snømus. You’re glowing.”
Elsa’s eyes widened, panic suddenly stretching her features.
“I am?”
Her hands detached from her wife’s waist, like she was afraid of hurting her, and even took a safe step back.
Honeymaren laughed. “No, not really! I mean, you do, baby. You always do. But not literally.”
Elsa blinked, then sighed. The brunette continued to laugh, taking her hands back. “Why are you so tensed about it?”
“Sorry, it’s just…” Muttered the blonde, looking elsewhere. “Since the magic attack, I’m afraid that my powers got affected in a way…”
“Shh… They aren’t. They never will. Ever. You’re safe for the rest of your life now.”
She caressed her cheek, and a small smile tugged Elsa’s lips, but it went away too soon. “I just don’t want to go through this again.”
“Losing control?” Guessed Honeymaren.
Elsa missed a heartbeat at her wife’s wise analysis.
“You’re not losing control.” Assured the brunette.
“I know, but those creatures will come back, you can’t deny it. What if that time, I’m not--”
Honeymaren silenced her with a kiss. She had found out long ago that it was an infallible way to make Elsa’s worries vanish right away. The blonde closed her eyes, and melted in the kiss. Yep, love indeed was the key against anxiety. Honeymaren looked at her when they parted.
“We’ve been ready for this one. We’ll be even more for the next. Even if it means more angry.”
Elsa smiled, her eyes still closed, then chuckled. When she opened them, two calm walnut irises were embracing her mentally in a warm cocoon.
She bit her lip, her hands roaming the brunette’s hips.
“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, okay?” She teased.
“How is taking care of a tribe ‘stupid’?” Smiled Honeymaren. “Also, now that the dork one of the couple is gone, I’m safe.”
“I’m not a dork.” Huffed the blonde with a pout.
“Sure you are. May I remind you that I surprised you and Bruni having a tongue blep competition the other day?”
Elsa blushed lightly. They often had fun with the Fire Spirit, and she refused that Honeymaren made this an awkward moment. They had laughed a lot.
Ryder snorted. “Did you win?”
The Northuldra leader turned to her brother, frowning at how he once again eavesdropped one of their conversations. “You do not get to tease her. Only I do. And of course she did.”
They all laughed. Anna smiled as Elsa kissed her wife deeply, then the blonde joined her on Nokk’s back.
The Fifth Spirit placed her hands on the water horse’s neck, and Anna placed hers around her waist.
With a final nod, and wave to the Northuldra, they dashed to the South, Anna once again impressed by the swift moves of Nokk, even if it was for the hundredth time. Via the water stream, they would arrive to Arendelle in a record speed.
A long silence passed after they disappeared on the horizon, the Sami slowly getting back to their tasks.
Ryder looked at her sister’s behavior, and smiled tenderly.
“Nervous much?”
Honeymaren stared at him. “How do you know I’m nervous?”
Ryder chuckled. “First, because I am your brother and I can tell when you’re worried about something. And second, because you have that big mannerism when you’re concerned about Elsa. When she’s away in Arendelle or in Ahtohallan or simply not around for too long... You always fiddle with your ice wedding ring.”
Honeymaren sighed. She couldn’t help this mannerism, so actually, she was fairly certain that Ryder wasn’t the only person who noticed it; the whole folk probably did. Except of course for Elsa, because Honeymaren didn’t do that in her presence, by definition.
“It relaxes me to touch her magic. And this ring is the product of her magic mixed with her love for me. So it brings a lot of happiness to my mind and heart. It erases sad thoughts. Also, it’s the easiest way to know that she’s safe.” She confessed.
Ryder didn’t have to comment out loud to say that he understood her drift. If Elsa were to die, then the ring would instantly melt.
Honeymaren gulped, looking at her brother, who now felt sorry for bringing that up.
“Damn, I didn’t mean to make you think about that. Look, Elsa will be fine. She’s with Nokk and Anna. And they’ll arrive to Arendelle soon. We’re worried about her too, you know? She’s still our Fifth Spirit.”
“I know, of course. I’m not hogging on her.”
Ryder smiled. “Those last days filled with dangers and threats have been heavy for all of us.”
Honeymaren nodded. “And it’s out of question that I get some rest.”
Her brother grinned. “Let’s go practice.”
========
Wind blowed in Anna’s ears as they traveled at high speed to Arendelle. In fact, they could see the castle appearing in the horizon, and the Queen smiled as she held her sister in a hug.
“Are you alright back there?” Worried Elsa, wondering why she was now holding her that way.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Assured Anna, and the blonde was happy to hear the smile in her voice. “I’m just happy that you’re safe.”
“It’s been a crazy week, but Honeymaren helped me go through this. She’s purely amazing.” Admitted Elsa.
Her younger could feel the upcoming praise, and grinned in advance.
“I owe her so much. You know, I used to be scared of thunderstorms because they reminded me of that night we lost mother and father, and that time I almost drowned in the Dark Sea because of... You, buddy.” She smirked as she patted Nokk, and they neighed.
“...But she healed me from them. She has a way to take care of me that is… So unique. And sweet, and nice.”
Anna smiled. “Like honey?”
Elsa frowned, and turned to slightly stare at her. “Honey is nice?”
“Well, it is unique and sweet. But also nice because it’s used as a medicine.” Smirked the redhead.
“I meant that Honeymaren had a warm way to reassure me.”
“Honey can be heated.” Grinned Anna.
“Will you please stop comparing my wife to actual food?”
“Well, by the way you constantly devour her with your gaze… Ouch!”
Elsa had pinched her leg, and she laughed.
They finally arrived in the kingdom, and Nokk made a show when they let them them go down on the harbor pontoon. Elsa thanked the magical horse with a loving scratch and they left in a bounce, merging with the water. The Fifth Spirit got all the usual acclamations from the townspeople, and she, as usual, blushed a bit and thanked them bashfully as they made their way to the castle.
“Walk faster, Anna. Why are you so slow? I thought you were in a hurry.”
“I am. But I want you to fully get those claps that you deserve.”
Elsa grumbled with modesty until they arrived to the castle’s gates. Inside, they quickly were greeted by the servants, and the youngest of them hurried to go upstairs to warn their family of their arrival.
“His Majesty got a bit worried by your sudden leave, but Princess Eydis was able to reason with him.” Smiled Ronny, the new butler.
Anna giggled. “I expected no less.”
“AUNTIE!!” Yelled two children at the top of the hall’s stairs, and they smiled at their joyful and loud entrance.
“Next praise; after the people, your nephew and niece.” Announced Anna with a tap on her elder’s shoulder.
Elsa got emotional when she understood that Anna insisted she should get more into the spotlight.
Isak tackled her waist for a hug with his tiny arms. Eydis search for room and decided to hug Elsa’s neck. The blonde’s lips trembled in joy, and she closed her eyes as she hugged them as tight as possible with her arms.
“I missed you too, little rascals.”
Then she realized how tall her niece was.
“Eydis!” She exclaimed. “You’re growing up so fast!! I’m astounded.”
“The physician says that I’ll be taller than mother when I’m an adult.” Grinned the girl.
“I don’t like idea at all!” Frowned Anna, who had been hearing her from where she was talking with Ronny to check on the news.
“Though, you haven’t seen me in a while. That’s maybe why you’re impressed.” Said Eydis.
Ouch. Touché.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to come more often.” Muttered Elsa, feeling bad, and her guilt was perceptible.
“Eydis, do I need to remind you that last time she came to the castle, you were up the eastern mountains in an ice harvesting expedition?” Reprimanded the Queen.
Isak looked at them, his eyes darting from one to the other. Did she say that to defend her sister or to scold hers for going out of the castle for too long?
“Yeah, sorry…” Groaned Eydis.
“It’s okay. How was it?” Asked Elsa.
“Elsa!” Frowned the redhead.
“What? I’m genuinely interested.”
“Sure you are. You should see your face when ice is mentioned.”
Isak giggled at her mother’s remark.
“The lake on the north-east valley had a thick surface and we harvested a lot of ice this year. It was awesome.” Whispered Eydis to her aunt’s ear.
“Tell me more at dinner.” Grinned Elsa.
Kristoff soon came down the stairs with diplomats he visibly had a meeting with, and they greeted.
Elsa later asked to talk to the King and Queen alone, and suggested them to go to Mattias and Halima’s house to ask him about Victor Eiglatson. It was better to keep it secret from the children and staff for now.
“Maybe that later, we can warn the guards.” Suggested Elsa on a low voice.
The two other nodded, and they exited the castle, pretending to go on a walk.
What they didn’t know was that Eydis had been listening in the shadows, and now was following them discreetly from a distance.
=======
“Please come in, I’ll make some coffee.” Invited Mattias.
Elsa worried instantly. Since Mattias was retired, he had little habits that Anna and her had become really good at finding out. When he prepared coffee at such a time in the afternoon, it meant that he was embarrassed about something. Given his face when they explained their venue and said the name ‘Victor Eiglatson’, she would bet that he was not willing to talk about him.  
“This Victor is a terrible man.” He murmured once they were all seated in his living room.
Halima and Anna exchanged a gaze. Victor’s arrest had marked the old man thoroughly. Mattias was deeply kind and sensible - which made him a compassionate general - and to face Victor’s mean and violent personality had shocked him.
“I suppose that Anna told you about when and why we put him in prison.” Gulped the black man, talking to Elsa.
The latter nodded.
“What else to do know about him? Maybe information about his past? Anything would be helpful.”
Mattias took the time to drink a bit of his cup before answering with a sigh.
“All I know is that he used to be a merchant, with a business based on trades between kingdoms, and he often went back and forth between the Forest and Arendelle; even before King Runeard started looking into the potential of the Northuldra land.”
“Waoh, long ago then.” Kristoff noted.
No wonder why Elsa described his face in the memories of Ahtohallan as an old cranky and stiff man.
“I was told that he was very rigid when he was in the army”, added Mattias. “Something must have happened in his life, because I always found it odd that a merchant could become this harsh. Who knows, maybe he enrolled in the Arendelle military forces to plan revenge over something.”
He then pretended to stir his coffee to look down.
“Anyhow, high-ranking soldiers started reporting his hateful behavior to me, so I had to act.” Said the man in a low tone. “He was extremely violent in his words and swore many times he would kill Elsa one day.”
He lifted his face, and Elsa’s eyebrows knotted in a sad expression.
“Don’t ask me to repeat what he shouted when we took him away and locked him in the prison. I’d never dare to put such words in my mouth.” Muttered Mattias.
She gave him a sad smile. “It’s okay. You don’t need to. I know how much he hates me.”
Anna turned an intrigued face to her, so she continued: “When we saw memories of him in Ahtohallan, I saw that he had a common past with, say, my previous life. The former Fifth Spirit.”
“The man who was the Northuldra leader before Yelena, right?” Remembered Halima.
Elsa nodded. “Yes. For now, I can’t access his memories about the moment or moments he met Victor, but when the day comes, I’ll certainly have to face a truth I might not appreciate.”
They all gave her sad stares over their coffee cups, and Anna put a hand on her thigh. They had learned that their grandfather was murderer and a colonizer, and now they might learn that the previous Fifth Spirit did something that was worth a deadly revenge? The sisters exchanged a gaze to bring the other courage, but in their souls, they both were trembling.  
Anna gulped. “Thank you for your help, Mattias.”
“Please, stay.” Smiled Halima. “There’s plenty more of coffee, and it’s been a while since we’ve last seen you. We have a lot to catch up on.”
“It’s true.” Grinned Elsa.
Her smile then turned malicious.
“By the way, do you have one more cup? We have another person joining us.”
Anna frowned. “What?”
Mattias did as well. “Who?”
Elsa simply stood up in silence, and opened the nearest window briskly.
A girl suddenly screamed on the other side, jumping in fright.
Anna’s eyes jolted wide. “Eydis?!”
The princess titled her head back within sight, and smiled nervously with gritted teeth. “Hiii.”
Anna dropped her jaw in astonishment. “What the hell are you doing here?!”
“She’s been following us since we left the castle.” Informed Elsa with a sly smile. “I was wondering if she would dare to come in or sneak back through the village.”
Eydis blinked at her aunt. “Wait, you could tell I was following you all along?”
“What, you think you can escape my sight?” Smirked the Snow Queen. “Eydis, I hunt several times a week. And now that I mention this, I actually realize that I have a lot to teach you about how to walk silently to go undetected.”
“You will NOT teach her that.” Scolded Anna.
The princess grinned with a giggle. Elsa closed the window when Halima opened the door for her, and the teenager entered. Then she cleared her throat, and huffed as she placed her hands on her hips, proud chest up.
“Well, now I know your little secret. So you have to take me with you.”
Everyone exclaimed.
“No, Eydis, you can’t possibly--”
“That’s too dangerous.”
“You shouldn’t--”
“There’s no way we’re allowing you--”
She snorted at all their refusals flying at the same time.
“Say what you want, I heard all about this Eiglatson, and I want to come.”
Her mother frowned. “Oh, you won’t, young lady. This is adult business.”
“I’m thirteen!!” Exclaimed the princess.
“And that is way too young.” Persisted Anna.
“You were eighteen when you had your first big adventure!” Replied Eydis with a rebellious frown. “What does it change?”
Anna scoffed. “Well, five years, for starters!”
The young blonde sighed and pouted. “Mama, please let me come with you.”
“Oh, now you ‘Mama’ me?”
“Please! I can fight, I can think strategically, I can help you!”
Elsa recognized in her niece’s begging the traits than Anna.
“I swear I’ll stay with you, Mama.”
The Queen sighed longly, looking at Kristoff to get his advice. But the blond was staring at Halima as she poured a cup of coffee to the new guest.
“Wait, do you have something else to drink? She’s too young for cafeine.” Frowned Kristoff, worried for her health.
Her wife stared at him with sarcasm. “That’s the only part that concerns you?”
“What?” He said with lifted eyebrows.
Anna blinked. “I’m sorry, did you miss the whole part where our daughter asked to come with us and face mortal danger?”
Kristoff didn’t seem to be bothered by it. He shrugged. “She’s excellent at fighting. You said it yourself the other day. And if she swears to stay with us, she doesn’t risk anything.”
Anna jaw dropped. Eydis smirked. “You said I was an excellent fighter?”
Now the redhead blushed. “I… I did not understate that you could come along with us in a battle.” She insisted, weighing on that word as she stared at the King.
Kristoff was ignoring her now, helping Halima pour a glass of fresh fruit juice to Eydis.
Mattias and Elsa were enjoying the scene with discreet smiles.
“Also, it would be rude to doubt about my worth.” Teased the princess, referring to her encounter with no less than Thor when she was a child.
Anna grunted at that clever point. After a while, she sighed longly, and her shoulders slumped. “Fiiiine. Eydis, you can come.”
The princess bit her lip and tried all she could to not make any noise as she internally screamed in joy, her fists tight.
“But you NEVER leave our side, okay?”
Eydis nodded with sparkling eyes. “I promise. Pinky promise.”
Anna melted in a smile, and Elsa observed as mother and daughter tied their pinky fingers together.
The blonde noticed once more how close they were. She was intrigued by the pinky promise, and wondered when they had decided of the cute gesture. Eydis wasn’t the type of child who lied. She even sometimes was awfully direct, and rarely put filters to her remarks if she wasn’t in a royal context or surrounded by dignitaries. She was never afraid to speak the truth. Then why the pinky promise?
Elsa gulped. Was it because when she was the one to promise something, she only did it it orally, and often broke the promise because she used it as a device? She looked at Anna sadly. Was it because her younger sister had been disappointed multiple times and hated it? And therefore created this with her daughter so that she would never break her promise, unlike her?
“Elsa?”
Did Anna hate her for how many times she had broken her promises?
“Elsa!”
The blonde startled, suddenly aware of her surroundings. Time had passed, and Mattias had just told a really good joke, to which everyone laughed, except for Elsa. Anna looked at her while the others were distracted.
“What’s wrong?”
The Fifth Spirit gulped. “Nothing.”
“Elsa.”
Now she had called her with a scolding tone.
“You can tell, uh?” Sighed the elder.
“Obviously.”
The blonde inhaled calmly, and muttered what she had on her heart. “Are you… Are you mad at me for the numerous times I broke my promises?”
Anna blinked at that odd doubt. She then linked it to what had possibly made her come to this conclusion, and smiled sadly.
“Elsa… Of course I’m not. You know, even if I’m upset sometimes, I also have an open mind. I know that there are times when you can’t keep them. And yes, I have entirely forgiven you for that one time you sent me away to save my life. You do realize that, if you didn’t break a promise here and there, I’d be dead by now?”
Elsa giggled slightly. “I suppose.”
Anna booped her nose. “Take those sad thoughts out of your mind, okay? Tonight, I’m gonna ask the cooks to make us a chocolate cake.”
The blonde grinned.
Eydis turned to her mother. “Hey, I was thinking… Why can’t Ahtohallan help?”
The Queen smiled at her clever question. “She already is helping, sweetheart. By giving Elsa her blessing to use her powers against Victor. And based on what happened on the last attack, I can tell you they’re very effective.”
“Awesome.” Beamed Eydis, admiration in her eyes. “In fact, you’re like Joan of Arc.”
Mattias blinked. “Uh?”
“Yeah, because she heard voices, then those voices asked her to go at some place, then she became a fierce warrior, and now she’s a tough legend.”
Anna laughed, then suddenly gasped with wide eyes. “Oh my gods, you are like Joan of Arc.”
Elsa puffed. “And you only realize it now?”
They started helping Halima to clear the table, and the redhead approached her elder. She started to open her mouth, and Elsa rose a finger to stop her right in her tracks.
“No, I will not pose for an epic painting riding Nokk and  waving the Arendelle flag.”
Anna closed her mouth and pouted.
=======
They prepared their battle gears and equipments and placed them in a wagon, that would be drawn by two horses given the four people on it and the heavy weapons and armors that were transported. Anna had asked the soldiers to stay in Arendelle, for there was no need for them to come alone and this was the perfect opening to attack the kingdom while they were gone.
“Why don’t you go there flying?” Asked Isak when they packed their stuff, still unaware on how physics work.
Eydis burst out of laughter. “Oh my, if only. I’d love to go there in a flying house.”
Anna overheard them as she closed a chest aboard the wagon. “You know, there’s a guy named Zeppelin in Germany who’s thinking about that.”
The two children exhaled in amazement.
“I love technology.” Smiled Eydis broadly. “You know, Isak, science actually is really close to magic, in a way.”
“Oh?”
“That makes me think… Father, did you pack my Thermos flask?”
“Yeah, I did.” Answered Kristoff, his voice muffled as he was checking the wheels with the cartwright.
They spent the afternoon with family and talked about so many different topics at dinner that Elsa’s head spinned with joy at how many things had changed in Arendelle. She also got to know Ronny better, now that he was the new butler and replacing Kai, and the servant promised to keep an eye on Isak while they were all gone. Mattias also had promised to check on the little prince from time to time, feeling sorry for not helping in the battle, given his old age.
The Fifth Spirit was now lost in her thoughts, staring at the night sky from Isak’s bedroom.
“Auntie! Thank you for the magic colors!” Jolted the boy, grabbing her out of her reverie.
Elsa turned and squinted in confusion. “Uhh… The what?”
He lifted his head with a big smile, and pointed at the windows. “The beautiful magic lights in the sky!”
She tried to understand. Oh. He was referring to the northern lights.
“Sweetie, this is not my doing. They’re due to solar wind and magnetic disturbances.” She simply said, on a casual nerdy tone.
Therefore, the boy stared at her with a blink. “What?”
Elsa realized what she had said, and remembered that she was talking to a child, and shook her head as she immediately corrected herself. “I’m kidding. Yes. Magic. Of course it’s magic. Obviously.”
She then smiled when the boy grinned and looked up at the aurora borealis with sparkling eyes. She sighed tenderly at how he was the perfect mix of Kristoff and Anna, having exactly what she found touching in the two people, in addition to his usual cuteness. While Eydis was the spitting image of her mother, minus the freckles and with messy blonde hair, Isak had as much facial features from his father than his mother, and sported very curly red hair.
Elsa passed a hand in that tiny bush. “You know what those magic lights also mean? That it’s time to go to bed.”
Isak giggled at her touch. “Mama says that it means that the sky is awake.”
“Yeah, well, your mother isn’t really the best example for sleeping schedules. Come on, chop chop, in the sheets.”
He groaned a bit, but once his aunt tucked him in and sang half of a lullaby, he dozed off. Elsa smiled tenderly again, looking at him. She would never stop being emotional at how her family had grown. Isak always had loved magic, literally from the earliest age. The Spirits had been keeping an eye on Anna’s children every time they would visit the Forest, and Isak had been born there. Elsa remembered with a smile how Gale actually was the first one to have played with him as a baby, twirling softly above the wooden cradle and waving his rattle.
“Elsa, can we talk for a minute?”
The blonde jumped high in surprise at the sudden voice at the door frame.
“Damn it, Anna, do you want me to freeze your son??” Gasped Elsa, one hand on her heart while the other clenched on Isak’s sheets, trying her best not to let out the ice that had rushed to her fingertips at the spook. She furiously glanced at her sister, who apparently found her reaction funny.
“I couldn’t help observing you. You’re very cute.”
“You mean, Isak and I? Or just me?” Asked Elsa, standing up to join her, and matching her whispering tone to not wake the child.
“Mmmh, both.” Answered the Queen, thinking it would be the best answer.
Elsa eye-rolled, and she followed her to her study so they could be in a private spot.
“Okay, what did you want to talk about?”
“I need to know as much information as possible before we leave. What were the creatures like, from your point of view?”
Elsa tried her best to not omit any detail when describing the monsters.
Anna frowned. “How can something be loathsome, disgusting and fascinating at the same time?”
“That’s truly how I feel about them. As they’re also magical beings, I can’t help but admire how they’re made.”
She had a shiver at that admission, and Anna passed a hand in her back. Her elder was having conflicted emotions lately. She wanted to know more about Victor Eiglatson, and stop his doings, but he also captivated her. The redhead smiled as she thought of a joke to make her feel better.
“You know what else is loathsome, disgusting and fascinating at the same time?”
“What?” Snorted Elsa, hearing the jesting tone.
“Your wife.”
“Excuse me?”
“Have you ever seen Honeymaren running away with her face covered with purple after she ate all the berries you spent an hour picking up?”
Elsa burst out of laughter.
“Yeah, very funny.” Groaned Anna. “I’m never helping Northuldra gatherings again. She’s a dork.”  
“I’m well aware.” Giggled Elsa, who couldn’t stop imagining Honeymaren laughing out loud as she was chased by a furious Anna.
“She hides that childish personality really well under her serious leader and calm lover masks.” Admitted the blonde.
They smiled and looked at the beautiful night through the study’s window.
“Why did you ask me about the creatures?” Frowned Elsa, suspicious.
“Well, we don’t all have magic to protect us. And I just ordered a new custom-made armor that I couldn’t wait to use. This is the perfect occasion.”
She rubbed her hands excitedly with a spark in the eye, and Elsa laughed.
=======
The Elemental Stones was a symbolic place for a meetup, but the spot where once stood the dam had turned out to be just as well. Indeed, now that it was completely destroyed since years, moss had appeared on the rubble and stones, and where once stood a horrible construction, had grown a tree. On the bank of the river, it was now the size of a house, and the Northuldra had decided not to cut it because of how beautiful this sign of Nature was. How meaningful was it, that a fruit tree had grown at this exact place, among the ruins? And now was feeding the whole tribe?
Anna often asked to see the tree when she visited Elsa, so naturally, when Honeymaren picked a place to go to celebrate their venue, she had chosen to sit in the resplendent grass under the tree.
“I’m getting good at this.” Smiled Eydis happily, turning the wooden spoon in the kettle.
Kristoff smiled down at her. “Yeah, you’re getting a hand to it. I think that all the Northuldra can’t wait to taste your soup.”
Anna looked at them lovingly and sat down next to Elsa and Honeymaren, who were cuddling on the ground. The brunette noticed how nervous Anna was when she kept staring at the corn she was in charge of cooking.
“You don’t need to put your family through pressure to cook a perfect meal, fire head. Your presence among us already is fulfilling.”
The Queen drummed with her hands on her knees. “Nonsense. I want to make sure that the whole tribe eats well.”
Elsa smiled. “You don’t need to watch over the corn like that. You know, we were on a hike once with Honey and we forgot it on the fire because we got distracted, and all the kernels had exploded. Yet the result turned delicious.”
Anna scoffed.
“Exploded corn? You can’t make much of that. A lot of Northuldra specialities will certainly go through time, but this? Naaah.”
Elsa shrugged as she drank some water.
“Wait…” Suddenly realized Anna. “Distracted? What had possibly distracted you during meal?”
Honeymaren smirked. “It depends what you mean by ‘meal’...”
Elsa spat and coughed at her wife’s words. The brunette grinned happily, but Anna was confused and didn’t catch the naughty innuendo.
Kristoff turned to them.
“The meal will be ready soon. Hey, Anna, could you get Ryder? He’s surely busy in the vicinity of reindeers.”
“Sure.”
The redhead stood up and walked through the camp. When she found him, he was painting the enclosure with a layer of odorous lacker.
The Queen winced like she had just received a physical blow. “Waoh! What’s that smell?”
With the wind blowing in her direction, she felt attacked, and almost blamed Gale for doing it on purpose. Ryder interrupted his brush strokes to look at her apologetically, though with a smirk.
“Yeah, you don’t want to know what I put in that brown mixture for it to resist heavy rains.”
Anna’s eyes widened. She wanted to ask ‘reindeer poop?’ but refrained herself.
“Boiled linseed oil is what smells the worst.” Explained Ryder, resuming to polishing the barrier. “But with it, we can go through Autumn’s weather without any problem.”
The redhead smiled with admiration. “It’s nice to see that even as a nomad tribe, you put so much effort and care into those little things.”
“Just because we change our living place every now and then, doesn’t mean that we can’t let the wood get damaged. I prefer our reindeers’ enclose to be pretty.” Smiled Ryder.
Anna grinned back. His love for reindeers would always be cute to her.
“Where are you moving after Winter?”
“Hmm, a bit more West, at the same hills we’ve been to last year.”
“Oh! Yeah! They’re beautiful.”
“They are. It’s not all; the soil fertility is why we go there again. We had good seed stock.”
He finished painting the fence, then looked at the spot where the Arendellians had set up.
“Do you need help to unload your wagon?” Proposed the man.
Anna smiled. “No, it okay. We took care of it already. There is no shortage of kind people in your tribe.”
Ryder tilted his head at the enormous chest that had been added to the armory hut.
“Waoh, that looks heavy.”
The Queen smirked. “Yeah, not gonna lie, we all brought our own battle equipment.”
“I wonder what type of weapon each of you picked.”
Anna grinned. “Want to have a look?”
She led Ryder to the chest, and invited him to open it. He smiled as he did.
When he saw what was inside, his eyes widened in astonishment.
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korkisobsessions · 4 years ago
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The Oath
XV. Hyung (Part 2)
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Desperate screams were filling Deok Sung’s ears. He was sick when he laid a foot on the ground in Sumang village. He wanted to run away, but he was soldier. And soldiers follow the orders! But today he felt, this is the day he will loose his soul. He always followed Ahn Hyun, no exception, no question, loyalty. This was the first day he hesitated. He felt tight knot in his stomach that makes him want to vomit.
Dark was merciful, hide most of the brutal assassination of innocent sick people. Old or young. Women or men. It doesn’t matter. They were just instruments. Lord Ahn and Cho Hak Ju need only their bodies to fulfil their plan to save them. To save everyone, except this sick people. Their lives were sacrifice.
‘Their death will be our salvation’ he heard Cho Hak Ju’s poisonous voice. And his commander listened and makes the order.
Poor villagers were running for their lives without hope. Only people, who could save them, came to kill them.
Suddenly he heard cry. It was young boy hidden behind the fence. His face was covered with bloodied bandages. He could be just eight years old.
Deok Sung swallowed lump in his throat and kneel before crying boy. He knew who he was.
“It’s all right, don’t be scared.” He tried to calm him down. Boy was still sniffling, and in his palm he held tight grip on small carved soldier.
“What are you doing?” He sobbed and his eyes were watching slaughtering of his neighbours.
“Hey...look at me. I’m Deok Sung. You have a brother, am I right?” he tried to bring boys attention back to him. “Is he chakho?”
“Yes” boy whispered. “You know Yeong shin? Where is he?” boy stopped crying and came closer.
“Your brother is very brave man. He is fighting against the enemy, right now.” He was speaking with boy with gentle voice to calm him. Mention of his brother helps.
“Will he be all right? I’m scared!” there were tears again. Flames were sparkling in tears of young boy who was worried about his brother, who was probably dead now.
“He will be. You can help him, if you want?”
Boy has suddenly excitement in eyes. He didn’t even notice that one of soldiers killed his neighbour and watch them.
“I want to!”
“You just need to close your eyes boy...” Deok Sung swallowed tears and held tight grip on rope in his hands. “Don’t be scared and close your eyes. You will help him....”
 -In the same time, but different place.-
He always thought that when it comes to hardest part of the war, the weather will be same. That nature will be in same mood. That it will be raining or something.
But it was here and sun was shining, sky was clear. If soldiers didn’t crush them into the ground, flowers will be probably blooming in here.
But soil was wet with so much blood, it became slipping mud. Sun was blinding and air was hot.
Yeong shin was in the middle of nightmare. His breath fast and shallow, like he was drowning. Shouting of man deafening and mass of human flesh was like water and he was drowning. He shoot samurai right in the face and man’s head fell backwards, body following. He patted pouch hanging from his belt and found it empty. No gunpowder, no ammo.
So he grabbed his rifle with both hands and hit another Japanese soldier with handle. Byung Chul then stabs him in the neck with his short sword.
“Nice hit, kid.” His face was covered in blood of enemies. His silver hair almost red. “Watch out!” he shout. Yeong shin turn but it was too late.
Sharp pain exploded in his shoulder. He just saw quick flash of blade sticking out of his skin. He was too shock that he didn’t even start bleeding in that moment. Japanese soldier was screaming like he won, but Byung Chul’s knife hit him in the eye and that was his end.
When the soldier fell, he pulled out his sword from Yeong shins shoulder. Blood suddenly drenched his shirt and stick fabric to his skin.
“It’s all right, kid. Just don’t move.” His master was by his side to catch him. He didn’t even realised he was falling. Byung-Chul pressed piece of cloth to the wound and tied it with his belt. Yeong shin clenched his teeth and let out sharp breath. “You have been through worse.”
“I know, it’s just scratch.” All around them were madness. Soldiers were running around them, fighting and dying, stumbling over corpses of their fellow soldiers.
But for a moment Yeong shin looked into Byung Chul’s eyes...and knew. They were father and son, not by blood, but by fate.
Byung Chul squeezes his hand and helps him to his feet. “Let’s get you to healer and...” he didn’t finish the sentence. In one moment lot of things happened.
Sun fell down and chill bit their bones. He heard shouting and cry of pure terror. He heard a lot of kinds of cry. Painful, sorrowful, angry...but he never heard men scream like this. It was fear in its clearest form. Chill run down his spine
Byung Chul jerked himself wen his torso pierced a blade. His face full of pain. Crimson stain bloom on his shirt. Few drops of blood escape his lips when he coughs and his face grimaced with pain.
“MASTER!” Yeong shin cried and tried to catch him, but mass of men swallow them and rip their hands apart. Huge samurai came to his way, prepared to kill him, but young chakho felt rage boiling in his veins. He had no gun, just his bare hands. He jumped on the man, knocking him to the ground with such strength that the soldier lost his helmet. Yeong shin forgot his wound, he just saw his enemy and hit him in the face with his fist. Again and again he was bringing his fist down. Men’s teeth and bones scratching his knuckles. He didn’t even know he was screaming like a wild animal beating man’s face to mash. It was another soldier who stumbled over him who woke him up and he realised he beat his enemy to death. Tears were running down his cheeks when he desperately searching Byung Chul’s silver hair.
“Can you help me my friend?” someone grabs his hand. It was man lying on the ground, with pale face. “I tripped and I can’t stand.” man was violently shaking still gripping his hand. “Help me get up, friend?”
Yeong shin wanted to scream when he noticed soldier’s legs chopped of above the knees. Man was still trying to stand up but failing. Blood and limps were everywhere. Night was getting darker but fight didn’t stops. He was desperately looking for his master, calling his name until his throat was sore and he lost his voice. He was tripping and falling over bodies and hallucinating... He must be. He saw man biting another man in the neck, drinking his blood and feasting on his meat.
And then another mass of bodies flew over him. Men fearfully running away hit him like big hammer. He almost fell, and caught closest man. It was Japanese soldier with eyes full of terror. Yeong shin didn’t have a chance to say something, or run. His enemy stab him to his abdomen. He pressed his palms to new wound and found himself falling. There was no Byung Chul to catch him.
Hard ground took his breath away, another bodies falling over him, burying him alive and suffocating last remains of life.
It was over.
War was over.
For him.
 “Yeong shin, please don’t...I’m sorry!” Nilah was desperately crying in front of him. She was kneeling in pouring rain holding his hand. He didn’t know how he gets there. Outside of the house on the river band. “Please, I’m sorry. I will not ask again, just come back to me!” her wet trembling lips woke him up and he held her shoulders to look at her. He was too lost in painful memories he completely lost his head.
“My name....” he whispered with raspy voice.
“I don’t care! It doesn’t matter. I love you. I don’t care what your name is.” She pulls him into her arms and tried to stop sobbing, but failed. His empty eyes and bleeding palm scared her. She stupidly asks what his real name is. His face paled, and cup in his hand cracked, cutting his skin and leaving bloody stains on the table. Without a word he left and disappeared in the dark rainy night. She found him few hours later siting on the bank like frozen statue.
“My real name is...” he tried to swallow hard lump in his throat, but his voice still sounded broken
“My real name is Seo Yeong shin.”
He let out deep breath. Like he got rid of heavy burden.
“But... I don’t understand...” Nilah was confused. Last time she heard that his name Yeong shin was stolen from death man.
And then suddenly she understood...
“You are that dead man.”
 “Hey! Can you help me? There is big pile of bodies.” silenced voices came to him like it was just a dream. He tried to open his eyes, but something was pressed to his face almost suffocating him. And it stinks like...
...like dead man.
Rough fabric of corpse’s uniform was scratching his face, but it was his slightest problem.
Someone pulled dead weight from him and fresh air filled his lungs. He was catching the air, trying to open his eyes but sun was too blinding.
“Oh! Someone is here, alive!” scream someone, poking to his shoulder, he tried to lift his hand and shove him aside but he was too weak to move.
“That’s bullshit. No one survived that massacre! “ shout another voice from distance.
“But he moved and gasped!”
“It’s probably just gas. Take his tag and let’s go.”
Man patted his pockets and takes his identification tag. Yeong shin tried to fight, but his limbs were not listening. He was badly injured and loses a lot of blood. And now they took his name like he was dead. He was desperately trying to move, or make a sound. If they will take his tag, he will be declared as a dead. They will come to Sumang and tell his brother that his older brother died in war. He will though, that he is alone in this world. Sick and lonely boy without family, without someone who will change his bandages. Without money and without home. He can’t let his brother feel like this even for a second. He cannot betray him. He gives him a promise that he will come back.
He already lost Byung Chul. Painful memory of his master’s face clenched ice cold fist around his heart. Crimson blood dripping from his mouth, his hand desperately holding his...
Yeong shin wanted to scream, to cry, to fight, to have control over his body...
He tried to call for help but his throat was too sore from screaming Byung Chul’s name and too dry from thirst.
He remembered the day he became chakho. How he thought he will die in that muddy pit, but he fight and survived. Than that day when tiger ripped his chest and almost killed him. He clenched his fists, rose up and survived.
He growl like animal and made a move. He stands up, holding a hand against his still bleeding abdomen and made a step forward.
When he looked around, all he could see was piles of bodies laid one over another. Japan, or Sangju, it doesn’t matter; they were dead in the same way.
He was making slow steps and sun was blinding. He felt blood dripping between his fingers and for a while he thought, what is he doing? He will come home and die in arms of his little brother.
“I will not die Byung Chul!” he whispered, with taste of blood on his tongue. “I’m chakho and we live against all odds.”
It was like his mantra. He keeps mumbling it making slow steps towards home.
He felt sick when he reaches the border of Sumang.
His village was gone. Hot tears were streaming down his face when he saw that disaster. Houses were destroyed and burned to the ground. Dead bodies everywhere. The place he used to called ‘home’; place where he was born, where he grew up was gone.
“No, no, no...Where is my brother??” he murmured like insane. And he really thought he is loosing his mind. He wanted to shout his name but he was scared he will not answer.
Just for a last moment he wanted to keep hope. He didn’t want to face the silence.
And than he saw him.
Lord Ahn Hyun was standing in the middle of Sumang like from the most terrible nightmare. His clothes were dirty and bloody, he was still bleeding from several wounds. His face was full of deep pain and regrets.
Yeong shin lost his balance and fell to his knees when he recognized that round ‘thing’ in Ahn Hyun’s arms. He recognized that long hair tangled in braid and bloody bandages.
It was head of his little brother. His only family.
“No!” he screams and found last pieces of life. He made quick move to commander. He wanted just one thing. To kill him. It was all Ahn Hyun’s fault. All this madness and destruction was his and Cho Hak Joo’s fault.
All he wanted was pierced his heart with dagger. Scream left his lips but he couldn’t reach him and find his revenge.
Hard blown to back of his head send him to unconsciousness.
Deok Sung was standing above desperate chakho, taking his sword back. Face of young captain was pale and his hands were shaking.
“My lord!” he bow his head in front of Ahn Hyun.
“Take him to healer and leave.”
“Yes my lord.”
“We won captain. That’s all that matters.” But commander’s voice shook when he spoke.
~°~
Yeongshin woke up...
For the truth...he didn’t woke up. He just opens his eyes. That state couldn’t be taken as consciousness.
He never felt like this.
Like nothing.
Like no one.
He had no home. His village was burned to the ground.
He had no friends. His only friend Byung Chul was dead. He didn’t even have a chance to pay him respect and buried him.
And he had no family. His parents were dead and his little brother. Brutally murdered, his body violated. His innocent body used as a lethal hideous weapon.
Yeongshin couldn’t...he just couldn’t keep on living.
“Finally you are awake.” Young man came to him and gives him bowl with soup. “Eat slowly, you barely made it. Your stomach was tear to shreds, but captain bring good physician.”
“Fuck him.” Yeongshin growl and stood up from makeshift bed. He was in some infirmary, wounded and dead soldiers were everywhere.
He was in terrible pain, but he didn’t want to stay in that place anymore.
His steps lead to big board with list of names of dead.
His eyes were searching until he found it.
~Seo Mingu; Sumang – killed in battle~
Tears sting in his eyes when he saw his brother´s name. And then he froze. Right there, just under...
~Seo Yeong shin; Sumang – killed in battle~
“What...no....!” Cold fist of fear griped his spine and shook with him. He quickly limped closer and read it again and again. His name was still there, telling him, he is dead.
He made it quickly to nearest magistrate. Holding tight grip on his stomach that was pulsing with pain. He even tastes blood in his mouth.
Old magistrate was sitting behind table and barely lift his eyes.
“What do you want?” his voice was tired and annoyed.
“My name is on the list of dead. But I’m not.” he touched his chest to felt his beating heart, because he was loosing the fate.
“Do you have identity tag?” old man looked at him with distrust.
“No...Someone took it from me, when I was injured.”
“And what is your name?”
“Seo Yeong shin. From Sumang”
Magistrate’s face twitch. But he opened his book and looked for his name. And there he was. His name with red stamp over it. Dead.
“Yeong shin is dead. Now leave.”
“I’m not dead!” Yeongshin screamed and hit the table with his fists.
“Yeah, I know your tricks. Identity thieves.” Magistrate hissed to his face. “Guards! Get him away!”
“No! Don’t touch me!” he missed the pair of guard, who was trying to catch him. But another took him from behind. “I’m alive! Yeong shin! Seo Yeong shin from Sumang is alive!” He tried to fight, but the pain was unbearable. His insides were ripping apart and he starts coughing blood. “Please...I’m not dead!” guard who caught him, had mercy. He carefully let Yeong shin lean on him and guide him out of the town.
“Listen friend. If you don’t have tag, I know a man who can make you new one.”
But Yeong shin wasn’t listening. He looses the last drop. Except home, friend and family, he lost his name.”
“...I visited that man and he made me new identity tag. But I’m still officially dead.”
Yeongshin finished his story and take a sip of hot tea. He was still shaking, even though Nilah brought him back home, give him dry clothes and blanket over his shoulders.
She was listening, treating his cut palm with strip of bandage and trying not to look to his face. If she would raise her eyes he will see tears and sadness.
“Nilah, it’s...” he gently touches her face and wiped away tear with his thumb.
She burs in tears, hiding her face. It was like waterfall of emotions.
“I can’t stand it. I’m sorry. How could they...?” she was sobbing so hard that Yeongshin must hold her tightly, tears soaking his clean shirt. “I remember nights, when I was looking to the sky, watching stars and making a wish that with some miracle Lord Ahn Hyun will become my father...but he was same monster as my real father is.”
Yeong shin press his lips to Nilah’s hair, her scent was pulling him out of bad memories. It was different life. That man who he was, was long gone. He wasn’t chakho, soldier or brother anymore. Now he was just a man, who belongs to this beautiful woman. And that was all that matter.
“Nilah, please don’t be sad. I wasn’t telling you this story to make you feel sorry for me.”
She wiped away tears and look to his eyes. There was that deep sadness that was usual for Yeong shin that he will probably never get rid of. But those eyes had gentle and caring smile.
“I just want you to know that I never lied to you about anything. You know me whole from the beginning.”
“I love you Seo Yeong shin.” She whispered sealing it with gentle kiss.
He held her closer with hand on the back of her neck savouring her lips. He never gets enough of her taste even if she tastes like tears. It was his Nilah, brave woman, tough fighter, but someone who had the most beautiful heart full of compassion.
Yeong shin’s heart was beating fast when he carefully laid her down on the floor.
She dug her bare hands to his shirt, untying it and revealed his torso. She lifted her head and touch his chest with warm lips, loosing her mind, when he silently moaned when her tongue touch his scar.
His body was above her, pressing her gently to the ground, his knees between her crouched legs.
“Can I-?” he whispered with shaky breath, touching the hem of her shirt. She can’t speak too full of emotions and love, she just nodded.
Yeong shin undress her slowly with steady hands, his lips parted and eyes bright.
Nilah helped him peel of his shirt, pulling it from his arms. She was nervous and calm in the same time when he kicks down his pants. She suddenly saw new scars that she can’t saw before. One nasty devious scar on his hip and that scar that almost cost his life, from samurai’s sword right next to his navel.
“Are you cold? You are shaking.” He whispered when he noticed unrest of her limbs.
“No.”
“Should I stop?” he tried to read her face, looking for any sight of fear.
“No, please, don’t stop.” Nilah held his hand pulling him closer. His lips widened in pleased smile.
Nilah felt like her lungs can’t took more of air, when his warm skin lied flush against hers. And he cradles her head in his hands engulfing her lips with his.
Her fingertips raked up his backs, tracing patterns of his scars while her tights trembled at the sounds he made his voice deep in hollow of his throat strangled and rough, so unlike his touch.
“Nilah, do you want me?” he whispered in her ear his breath hot against her skin.
She again said nothing, deepened the kiss, his tongue warm and tempting. Nilah get her courage and touch him where she thought she will never touch a man.
Yeong shin made a sound that she never heard from him. It was like vulnerable whimper.
“I’m sorry...did...did I hurt you?” She wanted to put her hand away, but Yeong shin’s hand stopped her.
“No, it’s perfect. You are perfect...too perfect for me.” He lean his forehead against hers taking deep breath. “No matter what you say, you are beautiful, gentle noble lady. Like delicate flower.” He kissed her temple his hands caressing her belly and gentle curve of her breasts. “My hands are too rough to your silky skin, Even though I saw you fight, I’m still scared that I broke you if I’m not careful enough.”
“You don’t have to be scared, you will never hurt me. “
She brought her hips up and guides him to her warm centre.
She would lie if she tells she wasn’t scared. That even part of her wasn’t thinking about that day when Sang-Ho violently took her. How it hurts when he pushed himself inside her in one swift move. How she cried and scream. How she bleed after that...
But Yeong shin was something completely different. He was slow and careful when he dipped inside her, controlling her face like he knew all her fears.
He watched her with awe when she gets used to him and her eyes spark like thousands of stars when his hips were tightly pressed against hers.
He starts moving holding her in tight embrace to feel her as close as was possible, sharing every inhale with her, memorizing every inch of her beautiful face, every flicker of eyelashes, every touch of her lips.
If he ever gets lost, surrounded by the horde of undead, this was the things worth of fighting. To see, touch and feel her again.
How long he longed to be with her like this, to feel her trembling underneath him, to love her with his whole body and soul. That road was long and full of obstacles, but the price was worth it. They were together, in their own home, with hopeful future.
She moaned when he touched her down there, like before and her breath shortens. He keeps circling that bundle of joy with his fingertip, pushing into her and his lips touched scar on her collarbone. Her breath hitched when her back arched and she let out cry of pleasure.
It took him just a few more thrust to follow her to beautiful bliss.
“I love you Nilah.” He breathes out against skin of her neck. “You are everything.”
Nilah felt just pure joy. Smiling and holding her lover who lay on her chest catching his wild breath.
“Did you do this before?” she asked. She was curious if he ever cared about some woman before.
Yeong shin cover their naked bodies with blanket and lay back next to her on his back. He held her hand and kissed her knuckles.
“I did. But not like this. Never with someone I love. This was much better.”
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loneberry · 4 years ago
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“Severed Head Floating Downriver“ by Alice Oswald
                         It is said that after losing his wife, Orpheus was torn to               pieces by Maenads, who threw his head into the River               Hebron. The head went on singing and forgetting,               filling up with water and floating way. Eurydice                                            already forgetting who she is with her shoes missing and the grass coming up through her feet searching the earth                          for the bracelet of tiny weave on her charcoal wrist the name of a fly or flower             already forgetting who they are they grow they grow                       till their bodies break their necks down there in the stone world where the grey spirits of stones he around uncertain of their limits matter is eating my mind                                I am in a river                                           I in my fox-cap floating between the speechless reeds I always wake like this being watched already forgetting who I am the water wears my mask                              I call  I call lying under its lashes like a glance if only a child on a bridge would hoik me out there comes a tremor and there comes a pause down there in the underworld where the tired stones have fallen and the sand in a trance lifts a little                         it is always midnight in those pools iron insects engraved in sleep                                             I always wake like this being watched I always speak to myself                         no more myself but a colander draining the sound from this never-to-be mentioned wound can you hear it you with your long shadows and your short shadows can you hear the severed head of Orpheus no I feel nothing from the neck down already forgetting who I am the crime goes on without volition singing in its bone                       not I not I                                                the water drinks my mind as if in a black suit                        as if bent to my books                        only my face exists sliding over a waterfall and there where the ferns hang over the dark and the midges move between mirrors some woman has left her shoes                                                 two crumpled mouths                          which my voice searches in and out my voice being water which holds me together and also carries me away until the facts forget themselves gradually like a contrail and all this week                        a lime-green height troubles the riverbed                        as if the mud was haunted by the wood this is how the wind works hard at thinking this is what speaks when no one speaks
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