#its... in the text. hythlodaeus isnt back quite yet tho

[galpalaven]

wip whenever - azemet edition

not sure if/when this will ever get finished so i wanted to share because i revisit this often ;w;

Emet-Selch returns to the star with a smile on his face.

It’s… strange, to be forced to return to the aetherial sea rather than by choice. Certainly not how he ever planned to return to the star — but that dream had been dead and buried with the Sundering eons ago. A part of him hopes that, someday, Hythlodaeus will return to the star as well — perhaps Hydaelyn’s chosen will finally destroy Zodiark and his soul will be released, welcome to come home. Tired as he is, he debates holding onto his awareness in the hopes of seeing him just one more time.

It’s not like he’ll ever see the other soul he desperately wants to see, at any rate. 

Perhaps the closest he will get will forever be that it was Azem’s soul who sent him to the sea — and somehow, he’s alright with that.

Or maybe he’s just very, very tired.

When he wakes, there is considerably more weight to his form than he truly expects. As Lord of the Underworld once, he’d thought he’d be barely more than a conscience floating in a mass of nothingness. Instead, he can feel himself lying on what feels like sand. A breeze dances across his skin, ruffling his hair and bringing the soft whisper of waves to his attention. His brows furrow, and his eyes flutter open in confusion, trying to figure out where he is and what’s happening. 

Above him glitters an endless sea of blue, sparkling aether. Souls, he thinks, twinkle like stars in the night sky, and he wonders why he isn’t among them as he struggles to push himself up onto his elbows.

What greets him is… beautiful.

A sea of crystal clear water kisses the white sand at his back, barely a few feet from him. Turning his head reveals something much like Elpis — flowers and trees and familiar buildings floating in the middle of nowhere. Something in his chest aches at the sight of it, and he starts to sit up further when he sees it.

Or, more accurately, when he sees her.

Andromeda, looking every bit as he remembers her, wearing her robes and fiddling nervously with her mask, stands some ways away. Her dark, curly hair is tied back in that familiar low, loose braid, strands falling around her cheeks drifting in the breeze. Her eyes widen when she notices he’s seen her, full lips parting slightly in a gasp he can’t hear from where he is. She takes a hesitant step toward him as he watches, having stilled at the sight of her, entire face feeling both hot and numb all at once.

He’s dreamed of her many, many times over the years, but this is different.

This is… this is real.

Emet-Selch staggers to his feet, drifting towards her as if in a trance. She just watches him approach, wringing her hands, looking almost worried that he’s about to start yelling at her. 

Of course, that had been how a lot of their reunions went, wasn’t it?

He’s in no mood for yelling now, though. Not when his heart is in his throat, not when he’s got the woman he loves in arm’s reach for the first time in 12,000 years. He’s almost afraid to blink, breath caught in his chest, a faint tremble building in his limbs as he closes in on her, stopping himself before he can get too close. He’s afraid to try to touch her, despite how desperately he wants to pull her into his arms, terrified she’ll disappear in a cloud of mist, popping like a bubble.

She has to tilt her head to keep eye contact with him, eyes darting between his. There’s a long moment in which they just stare at each other, before her brows furrow a little and she rasps a soft, sweet, hesitant, “…hi.”

His lips twitch, and he snorts softly, drinking her in every bit as much as she is him. “Hi.”

She smiles faintly, still making a face like she’s afraid he’ll be angry with her. 

Hoping to waylay her fears, he crosses his arms, smirking and raising an eyebrow as he glances away at the scenery. “Is this your doing?”

She follows his gaze, though his eyes return to her immediately. Fiddling with her mask, she shakes her head, smiling bitterly as she says, “A gift — from Venat. Though, gift is probably being generous.” 

Her smile falls away as quickly as it had come, and there is nothing of the woman he had met in his dream some time ago now, who had told him that she was waiting for him, even if he hadn’t believed it when he woke. That echo of her had been giggly and smiley, slightly sad but mostly just happy to be near him again. This Andromeda…

“I’m sorry,” she says, avoiding his face deliberately now. “I’m sure you’re tired. I don’t — I don’t know how to fix this.”

Sorry?

“What in the hells are you apologizing for?” he asks, laughing a little. The sound of his chuckle brings her gaze back to his, and his chest feels lighter than it has in ages as he smiles at her, tilting his head and for once letting his affection bleed into his expression. Hope flickers to life in her eyes and he drifts a little closer, drawn like a moth to the flame. “I’ve missed you. More than — more than I could ever put into words.”

Her eyes well with tears, and she takes a shaky breath in as she looks at him. “I… I’ve seen how hard it was for you. I’ve watched. It killed me, not being able to be there for you.”

He looks away. “I’m surprised you’re not angry, if you’ve been watching all this time.”

She laughs a little, the sound broken and watery. “I am angry, but not at you. I’m… I understand why you did what you did. Truly. I can’t rightfully say that I wouldn’t have done something similar if I’d lost… if I’d lost you and Hythlodaeus instead.”

He glances at her face again, watching the tears fall. Smiling a little, he shakes his head. “No. You’re too good. You would have found another way.”

She shakes her head. “We should have gotten the chance to find another way before it came to that. When — When she first plucked me from the Thirteenth, when I first got my memories back, I was so — so angry.” Andromeda huffs, crossing her arms and looking out across the sea. “I know she told me when we were still alive, but I didn’t believe her. And why would I? Why would I have believed her? Her plan was as upsetting as Zodiark was to me. I don’t know why she didn’t try to bring our memories back instead. I don’t know why…”

She stops abruptly, sniffling and looking up at the aetherial sea, the twinkling lights like stars above them. Her breath hitches, and when she continues, her voice is barely above a whisper.

“I have been able to do nothing but watch,” she rasps, and her face crumples, a sob falling from her throat. “For thousands of years, all I’ve been able to do is watch, as people have suffered and died, as you have suffered and died, over and over and over again. I…”

“Andromeda…”

His voice is low and soft, and he finally braves the gap between them, reaching out and brushing some of her hair behind her ear. She shivers, gasping, and he makes a soft oof when she throws herself at him, burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms tight around his middle, fingers clutching at his back with another, harder sob.

“Hades, I — it’s been so long!” she cries — and how is he supposed to do anything other than wrap his arms around her and hold her when she does that? 

She sobs in his arms for a long while, and all he can do is hold her and sway, pressing kisses to the top of her head and rubbing her back like it’s going to do anything at all for the yawning, gaping wound he knows must be bleeding in her chest. While the past millennia have weighed on him for certain, he has at least been able to touch people and speak to people and, yes, he had never been someone who liked that kind of thing, but for her, who lived and breathed for being with others, an eon of isolation must have been…

“I’ve got you, love, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, curling into her, and she only cries harder, pressing up on her toes to get closer. “I’m here. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry!” comes her response, hiccuping and trying to pull away. “I’m sorry, this isn’t how I wanted this to be—!”

He shakes his head, reaching up to cup her cheeks, wiping her tears as he says, “Again with the apologizing.” He kisses her forehead, lingering when his lips finally touch her skin. Her fingers brush his wrists, holding his hands against her face. When he breaks the kiss, he rests his forehead against hers, eyes falling shut. She still hiccups softly as they stand, the breeze dancing around them, making their robes twist around their legs, but he has never felt more at peace than he does in this moment. His thumbs make soothing little motions over her cheeks, and her thumbs make similar passes over his knuckles. 

“I love you,” she breathes.

He grins — wide and happy, in a way that no one but his closest friends had ever seen — and pulls back to look down at her, smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks again. She smiles back at him, for the first time since he arrived not looking scared of him.

“And I love you,” he tells her, and to finally be able to tell her is a release that sends a shiver down his spine.

Sniffling, her hands tighten on his wrists and she bounces a little on the balls of her feet. “Is it too soon to ask you to kiss me?”

A shocked bark of a laugh bursts from his lips before he can think to stop it, tossing his head back with the force of his amusement. “Too soon?” he repeats, chortling to himself as he cups her cheeks a little firmer, tugging her closer. “Too soon? It’s been 12,000 years, Andromeda — you could have kissed me as soon as you saw me and it still wouldn’t have been a second too soon for me. Fuck, I wanted to kiss you well before everything fell apart.”

Her eyes soften impossibly and heat rises up his neck. “I wanted that, too. So did Hythlodaeus. If — If we’d had more time…”

He shakes his head, leaning in to banish the train of thought before she can start down it again. If only, if only — it doesn’t matter now. The journey has ended, and they’ve finally come back together. There is no point dwelling on the past when he has her here with him once more. 

“Hush,” is the last thing he says, a mumble into her lips before he finally — finally, finally, finally — kisses her.

She presses up on her tiptoes, stumbling a little to kiss him back and gods — gods, it feels so good. They both inhale sharply at the first touch of their lips, and it sends a tingling sensation prickling over his skin in its wake. He has kissed her in his dreams many times, but this is so much more, so much better, chasing away the final lingering doubts that he could have had about the authenticity of her spirit. The kiss — their first kiss, he thinks giddily — lingers and deepens, and he feels thousands of years of being slightly disgusted with others’ obsession with being touched fade away with the first brush of her tongue against his. It had left him feeling as though perhaps he’d been mistaken about how much he’d craved Andromeda and Hythlodaeus in life, but feeling her in his arms now he knows that it was just the missing love that had made him disgusted with other people’s hands on his body.

Andromeda’s hands slip from his wrists to his chest, sliding up until she can wrap her arms around his shoulders, and he wraps his arms around her in turn, reveling in the way she fits as she presses right up against him, every curve of her body hidden by her robes suddenly made plain. He lets his hands wander a little as they fall into a rhythm, learning the curve of her waist as it leads to her hips, the bend of her spine as she arches against him, trying to get closer as her tongue twists with his. As his hands make another meandering path up her body, he notices that she’s trembling, and when his thumbs accidentally brush the undersides of her breasts, she whimpers into his mouth.

“Hades…”

His name has never tasted so good.