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possamble · 1 year ago

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What are your headcanons about Marcille's mom if you have any? It's interesting that what drew Donato to her was cause she lived the history he studied, or that was said somewhere at least. She must've had an interesting life.

so this was going to be just a normal answer but then I realized I have a Lot of Things To Say. so here goes, a compilation of what we know for a fact from the canon, what I've extrapolated from the visual cues and details, and my theories based on all of that.

Things we know for a fact about Marcille's mother because they were explicitly stated in the manga and supplemental materials:

She was a court mage for a Tall-man kingdom at the southern part of the Northern Continent

Donato, a court historian, fell in love with her because she had lived through the history he was studying, and he courted her for 17 years (age 15 to 32) before getting married

She was a cheerful person who rarely showed extreme emotion and took things as they came

She always cooked a huge meal for Marcille on her birthdays

She remarried a gnome after Donato's death and a short distance away from Marcille's childhood home

Pipi, Marcille's pet bird, was actually older than Marcille and originally belonged to her mother (bird died at 62)

She was extremely heartbroken when Donato died and ultimately ended up instilling a deep fear of mortality in Marcille with her words

the only time she showed extreme emotion in front of her family was when Donato could no longer eat his favourite dish near the end of his life.

She scolded Marcille for being cruel to ants (implying she can have a stern side when needed)

Things that are explicitly shown but mostly through visual cues

She has a very distinctive style of dress always involving a ribbon choker (mirroring Marcille's habit of always wearing a matching choker with any of her outfits that don't cover her neck)

She was almost stereotypically good at housekeeping and traditionally "wifely" things (very frequently depicted wearing an apron or doing some domestic chore when not at work, seems to have been an avid cook).

She knits? (also, note the affectionate smile as she's looking at Donato and Marcille reading a book together in the full panel)

She was as excited for Marcille's milestones as Donato was.

She didn't tell Marcille much about elven food

(there are a couple things that this panel in particular implies:

She lived a good deal of her life (if not being born and raised) in a mainly elven country in the West, implied by her knowing enough of an elven region's cuisine to prefer Tall-man food over it

seems to have a pretty carefree and casual demeanour overall, if this is how she replied to Marcille asking her about it (sounds like she never gave her culinary preferences that much thought to begin with)

slightly related to number 2, it seems like she and Marcille had a fairly casual parent-child dynamic (especially in comparison to the Toudens' memory of their father)

(local elf tastes Italian food once and never goes back))

However, she seems a lot more... serious in most of the other times we see her? Almost like the very stereotypical archetype of a graceful elf.

Subsequent conclusions about her personality:

Usually pretty carefree and cheerful at home, has been a loving and attentive parent throughout Marcille's childhood (while not being so doting that she didn't discipline Marcille).

Slightly more conjectural theories on her personality:

Had a much more graceful and professional personality at work, which would explain the more serious portraits we see of her.

Given that both she and Donato had positions at the royal court, it seems a little odd that she'd go out of her way to do all the housework herself, so maybe she just enjoyed doing it?

Now taping all the evidence together and toeing the line between analysis and fanfiction:

It's clear that she loved Donato very much and was utterly devastated by losing him. But there's one thing that really stuck out to me in what little we see of her:

Doesn't she seem... angry? The way she's gritting her teeth, clutching the tablecloth, and how this is the first and only time we see her eyes opened that wide. In the following panel, you see her being quiet and dejected after her initial outburst. She's still crying very intensely, but her brows are furrowed, and she's not really responding to Donato's affection in her body language.

We're not told the details of how she felt about losing Donato other than that it upset her. But this, to me, implies that she was angry and resented that he was aging, that the end of his life was approaching. An "it's not fair" type of preemptive grief. And if this was the first and last time she cried like this in front of her family, she was either very good at coping in private... or very bad at letting herself feel unpleasant emotions until they become unavoidable and end up overwhelming her.

It's not too remarkable a detail on the surface. It's even reminiscent of what the audience has seen of Marcille. But... when it comes to the big picture, you'd think an elf who voluntarily chose to marry a tall-man and have a half-elf child would have been better prepared for this.

It kind of recontextualizes her cheerfulness to me.

"I'm sure everything's gonna be okay!" (or some variation thereof, depending on what translation you have).

And this is stated to contrast her extreme grief when finally confronting Donato's failing body and eventual death. But I'm wondering if... maybe this optimism was why she was so upset. What if she went into all of it thinking "everything's gonna be okay"? What if she was a little young by elven standards, and just followed her heart thinking that her own resilience would get her through anything?

Of course, only to get completely overwhelmed when she actually loses Donato. She turns into a completely different person. And that's heartbreaking on its own-- but what the audience sees is the effect it had on Marcille. Can you imagine being her, watching your invincible and upbeat mother suddenly lose all the light in her eyes in one go?

I've already made a huge post about how I think Marcille models her "work persona" off her mother, but another thing that stuck with me as I was looking for more details in the manga was this:

copy pasting from the other post i made about it lmao it's like... the second she resigns herself to lifelong pain and terror, there's another portrait of her mother facing her like this. with their heads bowed, in mirrored body language of resignation and despair and sorrow. Except it's posed like Marcille is still looking at her mother but her mother is looking away.

It took me a second to realize, but I think that it's a visual metaphor for the fact that Marcille's mother was the only long-lived role model she had-- and she failed to model healthy grief for her daughter. I don't say this as an accusation or to disparage her as a character, but just as a matter of fact. In her, Marcille was seeing herself older and losing a short-lived spouse or loved one of her own, and all she saw was hopelessness.

But her mother didn't mean to instill hopelessness and terror in her. She wasn't really thinking of how it would truly affect Marcille at all (at least, that's how I'm interpreting her looking down and away from Marcille in the metaphor), she was just sad. And she, in her own way, was trying to protect her daughter and help her prepare for future losses.

What she meant was "loss is inevitable, and you have to learn how to be in pain but live on anyway." What Marcille heard was "loss is inevitable, and you will be scared and hurt for the rest of your life."

Again. Marcille's mother doesn't feature explicitly in the story the way her father does -- but in so many ways, her shadow, her silhouette, her reflection is always hanging over Marcille.

All that to say... headcanon-wise (everything from here on is 100% without evidence lmao), I'd like to think that she matured and realized that she failed Marcille. I imagine her being regretful about it, wanting a chance to fix it but never finding a way to insert herself back into Marcille's life when Marcille is so so so busy becoming the most accomplished mage possible. I imagine her being herself again, now, so many years after her loss and after remarrying -- but with her cheerfulness tempered with a lot more wisdom and the pain of having gone through loss like that. I think the second Marcille actually tells her what happened in the dungeon, she'd want to go running to her daughter again -- if Marcille tells her the full truth instead of just being embarrassed she let things get that far. (oh, the tragedy of her wanting to be more like her mother and an accomplished adult who doesn't need to be babied... being embarrassed to actually tell her mother how much she fucked up...)

There's also the tension of her having remarried -- I know that there's at least a little bit of resentment that Marcille harbours about that, because she's childish like that at heart even if she makes an effort not to externalize it. I think that her mother would be aware of that, potentially adding to her sense of guilt and apprehension at trying to reappear/intrude on Marcille's life. I honestly don't think Marcille has met her stepfather -- or even considers him a stepfather rather than "mama's new husband" and kind of a total stranger. I think she and her mother actively don't talk about it in their correspondence, like an elephant in the room.

but, ultimately, I think her mother is on her side no matter what. Ancient magic? Dark necromancy? Sure, she'll feel guilty and like she was partially responsible for setting Marcille down such a painful path, but she wouldn't care. that's her daughter!! she would've moved back west and been petitioning for her at the court, buying a house right next to the Canaries barracks and visiting her every day that she wasn't on a mission. And if her husband had opinions on Marcille becoming a "dark arts user," he either gets over it or it's divorce with him. Yes, she might have had her optimism completely humbled by losing Donato like that -- but she's still headstrong and self-assured and she doesn't care what people think of her. It's her way or the highway and she's always going to be in Marcille's corner.

(She also needs a name lol. I went with Juno, just to be cute about "Marcille"s closest real life equivalent being Marcella, which is the female version of Marcellus, which in turn is a diminutive of Marcus, which was derived from Mars. Absolutely in love with Marcille potentially being named after Ares/Mars the fucking god of war btw)

#asks #she could easily be interpreted as distant or neglectful after Donato's death too #with how little involvement she has in Marcille's life/the fact that Marcille doesn't even mention her when talking about her life prospect #and that's fair! I will argue to hell and back that she was a loving parent when Donato was alive #but there's nothing that suggests she remained a loving parent afterwards #I just think that like... parental relationships are so complicated in dungeon meshi #you cannot deny that the toudens' mother loved them dearly but that she failed them both miserably as a parent #and i think it'd be more compelling if Marcille's mother was a little like that too #not a totally and easily dismissable deadbeat #but someone who truly loves her daughter but was only human herself and couldn't be what Marcille needed at a crucial moment #and regrets it deeply #and that the distance between them is mutually self-imposed by complicated feelings of guilt and fear #and a little resentment from Marcille's side that she hasn't really properly processed #I don't know if I'll ever get around to writing it but i had this idea where Marcille does finally spill the beans to her mom and she just #immediately arrives in Melini #and its awkward for a bit but they do finally have a heart to heart and air it all out #and marcille starts freaking out that her marriage is rocky rn bc her new husband wants her to distance herself from marcille #on account of the crimes and all #marcille's like no you can't blow up your marriage for me and her mother just shuts that shit down #'you didn't choose to be born. i was the one who made that choice for you'#'i brought you into this world and i'll be damned if i don't take responsibility for that the entire way'#'you are entitled to *nothing less* than my unconditional love.'#and obviously that's not a sentiment that's exactly healthy as a universal statement about parenthood #but i think its what her mother would believe and what marcille needs to hear #and dungeon meshi does such a fantastic job at just... letting imperfect things just *be* without having to justify it immediately #it expects the audience to do their own critical thinking #and know that its not trying to make sweeping universal statements in every instance #marcilleposting #marcille donato #junoposting

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mimssides · 2 months ago

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On Fractions and Sprites

Word Count: 7'500

On AO3: Link

As the Master of Summer, it was Virility’s duty to create plenty of anything and everything mankind could think of.

And a few millennia ago, that hadn’t been a challenge for Virility. Then again, a few millennia ago, Mechanics hadn’t been a thing yet.

An old feud between the Sprites' and Fractions' Masters escalates, when the Sprite of Springs and the Fraction of Alloys wish to become friends.

But really, what was Roman to do but protect his family? What was he to do when wicked Preservation showed up and endangered the few joys his existence still offered?

In retrospect, probably anything but what he ended up doing.

As the Master of Summer, it was Virility’s duty to create plenty of anything and everything mankind could think of. It was his duty to summon enough for all living beings to nourish and flourish enough to collect a bountiful harvest of grains, greens and fruit, find abounds of firewood and game to cure its meat and wear its pelts for the ever-awaiting winter.

It was his duty to carry on strong and lift their spirits with sunny days and warm rain showers to warm and wet their soil. It was his duty to be boisterous and loud, yet also caring and protective. Caring about the growth of his creations and protective of their well-being.

And a few millennia ago, that hadn’t been a challenge for Virility. Then again, a few millennia ago Mechanics hadn’t been a thing yet. She hadn’t been there to poison the soils with pollution with new inventions, destroyed fields, forests and swamps for so called factories, polluted the skies with gasses and smoke fogging up the air and destroying the layers that protected them from the sun’s harsh light.

But now it was so.

Now Virility was fighting for his existence.

His Mistress, Master of Winter, his beloved Decay watched him fade and strain, she tried to calm his mind and speak sweet with him. It didn’t do much, as she herself felt the burden Mechanics had brought over them; Snow and frost couldn’t last long enough to kill overeager pests or bring the well needed respite all greenery needed.

The other masters of seasons didn’t fare any better: Origin, Master of Spring, and Whimsy, Master of Autumn, battled with their shortening seasons. The blossoms weakened, the sprouts sick with disease or drowning in too wet soil, some animals dying due to too little food or too little space to live in.

All the Masters and their courts were fighting against Mechanics and her daunting offspring.

Virility being at the forefront with his disgust and reminded all of his own to never forget-

***

“Mechanics and her dishonest minions cannot be trusted!” Roman recited forcefully.

His passion wasn’t met with the enthusiasm, he thought it rightfully deserved. Virgil, Child of Whimsy, Sprite of Fog and Darkness, rolled its eyes and dropped its head in Remus’ lap.

Remus, Roman’s twin sister, daughter of Decay, Sprite of Rot and the north Winds, blew a raspberry at him and childishly cackled when Roman began to pout.

“We know what your father says,” Patton joined in meekly, “but I promise you, he is not like that! If you just met him, you’d know that.”

Patton, the oldest of all four Sprites, had always been the kindest and most trusting of them, despite experience and history teaching them to not be. Then again, as child of Origin, Sprite of Springs and the Sound of Cracking Ice, they were bound to be of a more fragile and delicate nature.

Which was why Roman tried to be patient. He tried to make sure Patton understood, how it was impossible for them to be friends with someone like Alloy. It was a Fraction (what a ridiculous name to call the child of a Master, why could Mechanics not simply go with Sprites like everyone else?) from Mechanics, and unlike most of the other children of Masters, had a physical body. In his case it was completely made out bronze, shining in a strange orange-y red in the sunlight.

And yes, Roman had seen it before, and it did look rather pretty, but it didn’t change the fact that he was a child of Mechanics. The very thing that was killing off all of them.

So once more Roman tried to reason with his friend, “Dearest Patton, your belief that there is good in anything and everything in all honour, but it cannot lay within anything touched by Her. She’s poisoning everything and this abomination cannot be different than Her. It must have influen-”

“Logan is not manipulating me.”

Remus’ hands stopped carding through Virgil’s hair. Virgil flinched and hugged its upper arms. Roman gulped at the coolness in Patton’s eyes as they rose their voice to speak again.

“Logan, which is his name, and you will use it from now on, is curious, understanding, and has no interest in nature to decay in the way it does now. Virility is wrong to keep us separated and stop us from working together, just because he cannot manage to speak with someone whose power are grander than his.”

“Uh, Pat-” Virgil murmured but couldn’t say anymore as Patton went on.

“All of this will lead to our demise if we don’t adjust and speak with those who he deemed to be our enemy before we ever actually spoke to them. And I say you will agree with me when you meet him, because unlike your father, you have a sensible head on your shoulders and a compassionate heart in your chest.”

Silence lay over the group. Birds were chirping and the sweet smell of honey lay in the air of the glade the four Sprites had met on this sultry summer day.

Never before had Patton put their foot down in such a manner. They rarely spoke up against anyone for that matter, so hearing them speak with such conviction was pulling at Roman’s chest. Damned be his own flimsy nature, he couldn’t budge this time.

“Speaking of Virility in such a manner could be dooming if he had heard you, Pat,” Roman tried to appeal to them. “Let’s just step back and think about this-”

“I think we should meet the tin can!” Remus happily announced.

Virgil snorted, suddenly relaxed once more, and Patton beamed from one ear to the other.

“Oh Remus! You really think so?” they asked hopefully.

Naturally Remus cackled and wiggled their shoulders, shaking herself and Virgil in her arms loudly proclaiming, “Of course! Any chance to fuck over big Daddy V is a chance worth taking! Let’s go live a little!”

“Your sense of self-preservation is shit, Emu,” Virgil huffed but grinned fondly as Remus pulled it up on its feet.

Staring at his friends, Roman couldn’t believe what he was just hearing. They couldn’t be serious to truly consider going against Virility’s word, could they?

“You can’t be serious!” Roman shouted.

“Sure am,” Remus smiled and flicked her twin’s head. “Now, let’s get going!”

“Absolutely not! This is a death sentence! It is idiotic and irresponsible! I am not going to meet up with any of Mechanics’ Minions!”

Roman went with them to meet up with Mechanics’ Minions.

***

They were at some sort of “cottage” at the border of a “city”, which Logan had built to retreat from its usual duty. The place looked very bland and boring, and Roman was not ogling the intricate clothes with colourful patterns and diverse textures, sitting nicely folded next to a “laundry basket”.

He was not happy to be here. He was so not happy with it, that he refused to say more to Logan than introducing himself civilly and giving him a curt but solid handshake. And he also didn’t pay attention at all to how intently and curiously the Fraction watched Patton when they spoke. Or how he seemed to suddenly fumble with his words whenever Patton made a pun and despite the seeming confusion and light discomfort it caused the metallic fiend, it never outright told Patton to stop.

Roman also tried to ignore how polite Logan was when Virgil looked confounded by a weird new word Logan used and patiently explained it to it several times until it understood. Or also how he wasn’t put off at all by Remus sudden and seemingly unconnected strings of thoughts she sometimes just yelled out.

Roman-

Roman really tried to ignore it. But in his core, he knew Patton was right. He knew that Logan wasn’t what his father had made the Fractions and Mechanics out to be. And maybe there was a way to explain it to Virility at a later point in time. Maybe when they had gathered more information, collected enough points to show him that there might be a future for all of them united then-

“Such a secure and secret hiding spot? I expected more of you, little sib.”

Roman’s head flew around. In the door of the cottage stood a lean figure, long silver hair, underneath a dark brown pinched hat, snow white skin and glowing yellow eyes, the left one with a green sheen and a red slit pupil. They wore a mustard yellow turtleneck sweater, black pegged trousers, dark brown Chelsea boots, mustard yellow gloves and a long dark brown coat with a yellow and light brown plait pattern of it.

The air around them all grew a few degrees hotter and Roman slapped his hand over his chest at the sight of this breathtaking newcomer.

“Oh, Janus,” Logan said casually as if not the most beautiful being had just entered the room, “I had not expected you.”

“Naturally you did not,” Janus(?) sighed conveniently ignoring everybody except Logan, “you did forget to invite me. Simply a minor faux-pas which I will graciously forgive you. Now-” they turned and finally looked at the little collection of Sprites all over the room - “with what nonsense have those vermin filled your little head with?”

Virgil growled. Roman made a step towards Janus(?) as Patton stammered, “He- We are trying to talk and mend our parents’ differences. It is clear that there are some misconceptions going around and we can-”

“Misconceptions?” Janus(?) hissed and began to stalk towards Patton. “Your lot is cursing and disrespecting us at every step. As if it was our responsibility to keep humanity in check, humble and halt them! If anything, you got yourself into this mess by letting them advance this much and create us to be stronger than you ever were.”

Finally, the other shoe had dropped. Finally, Roman realized who it was that was standing next to damned Alloy.

Dreaded and feared. First of all Fractions. Overseeing the destruction of end of nature with nonchalant indifference.

“What an utter displeasure it is to finally meet you, Preservation,” Roman spat and stood in front of his family.

The beautiful cunning eyes of Janus, child of Mechanics, Fraction of Preservation darted on him. For a second they remained still before they scowled their dainty lips.

“And who would you be?”

Lightning struck. Rain began to pour and everyone except for Roman flinched. Remus grabbed both Patton and Virgil’s hands, pulling them away from her brother’s decent into blind wrath.

“DO NOT DARE MOCK ME, Fraction! DARE NOT IMPLY, I, SON OF VIRILITY, SPRITE OF PASSION AND THE SOUTH WINDS, AM BENEATH SUCH SOULESS BOLT AS YOURSELF!”

Thunder halled from the sky and Virgil quickly looked outside, while Remus started cursing franticly under her breath.

“No, no, no! This is bad, this is bad,” Patton murmured and watched Roman step closer to Janus.

The Fraction’s eyes were wide as Roman approached but soon they schooled their look and squared their chest.

“No reason for yelling, darling,” they said mockingly calm. “We can all hear from far and wide how fragile your and your father’s egos are.”

“How daRE-”

“With the audacity of the fitter and smarter, little Sprite.”

Roman didn’t like violence. Roman didn’t like the short fuse and hot temper he had inherited form his father. He didn’t like to act on anger and bad impulse. He knew that his mother was right and following those feelings would never serve him well.

Yet that knowledge didn’t stop him in that moment to make the worst possible choice there was.

Lighting struck the house, aimed at Preservation. Yet the nature of lightning bolts was fickle, and not entirely under Roman’s control.

It did strike Preservation. But it even more so struck Alloy.

Never in his life, Roman would forget the way Patton screamed behind him. Never in his life he would forget the mortified look on Janus as he stared at their sibling falling bluntly to the floor without a fuss.

Then there was a tug on his core. He knew the heat, the humidity, the power. He whirled around and saw the other Sprites being pulled as well.

There was a yank. With clapping force Roman was pulled out of mortal realm into their home.

Shouts and yells were all that rang in his ears. Pain and weakness coursed through his bones. A slap to his face and a punch to his gut.

In front of his eye though, he saw the worst image of all.

Two eyes filled with hatred and disgust, one yellow, the other a milky white with a slit pupil.

***

Mother Mechanics needn’t dote and fret over them. Janus had told her a million times, that she needn’t treat them differently than any other. If anything, she should be more worried about Logan; after all, the poor thing had been hit way worse with that darn lighting five moons ago, than they had.

But he has healed and recovered fully already, offspring of mine. You still are in need of adjustment after that filthy fit of temper Virility’s spawn showed towards you that unfortune day.

Janus grumbled and pettily kicked a stone down the path through the City Park. They hated that in the end Mother was right. They hated that they still bumped into things because they couldn’t get used to their new restricted vision.

But even more they hated who had done it to them. Sprite of Passion and South Winds. What a laughingstock. They couldn’t believe that it was such a feeble thing that had managed to do such damage to their form.

Grunting Janus was about to decide to cut their walk short and go back home when they heard a soft song not too far away from them.

There was no denying that Fractions were curious (or noisy, if one preferred) to a fault. Janus was no exception to the rule and quietly followed the faint voice. Possibly it wasn’t the smartest approach to just walk up to an unknown sound without anyone else knowing that Janus was here, but Janus was convinced that they were able to deal with whatever they’d find. After all, they were the Fraction of Preservation, they were meant to outlast danger at any capacity.

The closer Janus got, the more captivating the sound became. There was something gentle and lulling to the tone. Something eternal and transcending. A full voice, a tenor, no, an alto, or just between both? They noticed a few birds flocking in the bushes and in few trees besides the path as the voice grew stronger.

Carefully they stepped off the path and quietly followed the song, as birds and insects and maybe even flowers pointed towards the place where the voice was coming from within the underbrush. And with the raised volume, the clarity of the words increased and finally Janus could hear what was actually sung.

They halted. They recognized the language. It was old and choppy, but it was the language of the long bygone people, hunters and gatherers who had lived in these lands about twelve thousand years ago. The words were simple, thanking for a successful game and bountiful forests and fields to find berries and herbs in. It was repeated over and over again, meant to be sung by many, possibly even sang over each other, in canon.

But now carried by a single voice Janus found the song rather saddening.

Then between the branches, huddled against a moos overgrown tree trunk between bare brushes, sat the tragic singer.

Brown skin, black hair with white strands at the sides, eyes half closed, as their chipped lips opened and closed relentlessly repeating the song over and over again. They seemed thin, only wrapped in what looked like an white sheet which was simply thrown around them.

Janus stared. The figure didn’t even react. Looking around them, Janus couldn’t find any trace of the figure to have moved away from their spot recently. It was getting close to freezing temperatures over nights and this person just sat here in a sheet singing to the nothingness of the empty City Park brushes.

How much Janus despite the concept of currency and homelessness. How much they hated the fact that humans had found it necessary for people to build a community so strong that they could be supporting all and every one of themselves but chose to make a transaction out of it.

How much they despised themselves for loving and wanting to help them still.

“Don’t fret,” Janus spoke softly.

The figure fret and jerked back. Their eyes flew open.

They were red.

The red of rubies, poppies and wild strawberries. The red of Virility. The red of the Sprite who had tried to kill him.

Janus was Preservation. They ought to know which fights to pick. This shouldn’t be one of them.

Their hand flew out in front of them and the fabric around Passion’s body tightened. He yapped for air, thrashed for half a second but then slumped barely making another noise. He didn’t even attempt to speak.

Janus realized then that Passion hadn’t appeared mortal as a trick; he was mortal. And right now Janus would be able to do anything to him that they could dream of. Pay him back for what he had dared to do to them and their sibling.

Janus stepped closer, ignoring all the animals growing quiet and crouched down to the slumped Sprite. With a cold smirk they reached for Passion’s chin and lifted it to force him to look at them. Satisfied he found anger, remorse, and deliciously even shame in the lowly creature’s eyes and their eyes narrowed in pleasure.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Janus mocked. “Even the strong can’t seem to escape the claws of fate, can they?”

Passion tried to spit. He failed. His mouth was too dry and the hand underneath his chin kept his mouth closed. But closed it didn’t remain.

“Str-range,” he stammered spite glimmering in his eyes, “how fate only is called by name when it comes to your enemies’ demise and not when you fail yourself, isn’t it?”

Janus didn’t feel bad for slapping him. He didn’t feel bad for turning around after that and leaving Passion sitting in the dirt like the pebble he was. He didn’t feel bad for the pained whimper he could hear as Passion toppled face down in the dirt.

***

Fractions were curious to a fault. Again, Janus was, sadly, no exception to this.

It had been a week since they had found the Sprite in the park. Well, former Sprite. And this confrontation wouldn’t leave them anymore. No, the longer they thought about it, the more bizarre the situation got.

A Sprite could only turn mortal if a more powerful Sprite or their Master would strip them of their powers. And as much as they hated to say it, Roman was one of the mightiest in Virility’s Court. It was possible that only Virility himself would be able to do so, and there was no explanation for why he would do such a thing. Roman had acted in his wishes, he had fought them and defended their fellow Sprites.

Why would someone do this to him? So naturally, only to satisfy their curiosity, not to calm racing heart thinking about the insect bites and bruises which had seemed infected, they went back.

This time though they went with a back-up plan; Logan was informed that they were in the mortal realm, in this City Park even and they would meet up with him later in the evening. Yes, this time Janus would be prepared to face the disgusting Sprite.

Automatically their feet carried them down the familiar path. With ease they retract their steps soon spotting where they needed to get off and into the underbrush. Again some wild life flocked around the area but it was quieter this time. No singing was to be heard either.

Janus listened closer. They couldn’t hear any sign of the Sprite. Had he left? Had his family collected him? Or had someone else found him and-

Janus shook their head. They weren’t allowed to have thoughts that dared to worry about such a foolish being. If Roman was gone, he was gone. And that was that.

In their thoughts they hadn’t noticed that they just had stepped into the tiny clearing of brushes. Only when a leaf was blown on their shoes that hadn’t been moved by the wind they saw what was in front of them.

Roman hadn’t gone. Roman hadn’t moved an inch. Roman was still laying face down on the ground, his arms motionlessly at his side and his shallow breath blowing the leaves on the ground back and forth.

It was a tragic pathetic sight. So pathetic it stopped Janus thoughts and kept him from making any mean remarks.

A muscle in Roman’s back twitched and Janus unfroze. They couldn’t deny their nature any longer, they needed to do something. Swiftly they crouched down and gently waved their hand close to Roman’s face.

“Yellow.”

Janus blinked.

“...hello?” they responded in confusion.

For some reason the Sprite chuckled and tried to turn his head towards Janus, but failed. But while his body failed, his voice returned and Janus could hear him clear his throat and speak again.

“Yellow like daffodils, marsh marigolds and dandelions,” the Sprite said softly. “Yellow like joy and happiness and bells.”

The Sprite’s voice was trailing away and Janus got on their knees. Carefully they touched his shoulder and began to slowly roll him on his back.

“Bells?” they asked to distract him just when they managed to get him on his side.

The distraction was not needed as his eyes drooped close. A dreamy smile lay on his lips. Conciousness broke onto his face for a few seconds and a drowsy answer spilled out.

“Mhm... bells... bells... bells ring.”

“Yes darling,” it rolled over Janus’ lips without their say, “bells ring.”

At the sound of their words, Roman shook and shivered.

“Ring so ... prettily.”

Surprised Janus tilted their head to the side. And then Roman managed to open his eyes long enough to throw a gaze at them. Deep red eyes pulled at them, drank them in with heat and yearning.

“Prettily like you.”

Conveniently for Janus and Roman, this was the moment where the latter decided to faint and give Janus enough time to calm their fast beating heart and their burning face.

***

Janus had brought the Sprite into an apartment they had conveniently just acquired that day. It did have his ups to have a few siblings around who are well-connected in human society and had come to some money.

Once they arrived at the building, they first planned to just let Roman rest in the guest room’s bed. Then they noted how Roman’s feet left a dirty trail on the carpet and how filthy overall the Sprite was. And thus they changed plans, dragged him to the bathroom, undressed him and let in bath.

Gently they picked him up under his arm pits and slowly submerged his feet, then legs, then... his lower regions, until Roman was in the water up to his chest. He must have been truly exhausted as he didn’t wake up at any step of the process.

With all the care in the world, Janus scrubbed Roman clean from months old dust, musk, sweat and possibly even moss that had somehow grown inbetween the Sprite’s fingers. Janus decided to not think about how that was even possible. They had grown wise enough over the years to never question what lay in the realm of possibility for a mortal.

Trying to put those thoughts away, Janus summoned his extra metaphysical arms and held Roman’s body upright over the water as he went on to gently bend his legs to get some feeling back in the Sprites legs.

All in all, Janus spent more than an hour with the unconscious man in the bathroom, washing, disinfecting, shampooing and rinsing him off again and again until finally the smell of decay and moss stopped hanging in the air. Only then, Janus finally could move onwards and lay Roman into the bed in the guest bedroom.

An hour after they had put him there, they went to check on him. He hadn’t moved an inch but was breathing (no, Janus didn’t haste to the other side of the room to check if his chest was rising at all). Of course, he needed more time to heal and rest. The state Janus had found him in had been abysmal, and a little bath and shower wouldn’t magically change that.

Janus began to feed him a sip of tea five hours after they had lain him to bed. In fact, every three hours after they got to him and made him drink a little sip. Maybe they imagined it but whenever they came back to check on him, he looked a little less pale, the greyness of his skin ebbing away each time. They also fed him medication against the infectious insect bites and moved Roman’s arms and legs gently to animated the blood circulation.

Never before had Janus lived through such long four days. And yet when it ended they weren’t remotely prepared for it.

***

Roman was in pain. His legs, his arms, his chest, his torso, his fingers and toes, his mouth, his core hurt.

But it hurt less than the last moment he remembered. He wasn’t sure what the last moment he remembered was but he was certain that it had been much worse then than it was now. In fact, while everything still felt so immensely heavy, something in him did feel somewhat more agile. He tried to flex his hands.

Shocked his eyes flew open as his body obeyed him for the first time in however long he had been stuck like this. Frantically he tried to sit up with all his sudden returning might. Sadly the might which had returned wasn't all that much yet and he only managed to sadly flop back on his bed.

Heaving breaths fought over his lips and he forced himself to calm down to not alarm whatever, whoever had brought him here. It took a few moments before his body acted as he expected and then he once more decided to attempt to sit up.

What a fascinating ordeal it was to tense and relax his muscles in his back, arms and core just so he managed to sit up. Such a complicated ordeal for such a simple movement. Then again how simple was it really? As Roman adjusted himself and felt the stiffness and pain in his spine, he remembered how many parts that were working within him to keep this body functioning. A single movement needed the collaboration of thousands of different impulses sent back and forth between his brain and whatever parts that needed to moved, relaxed or tensed. Or held in place. Even that needed so many thoughts, that it could barely be comprehensible for the human mind.

But for Roman it was comprehensible. For Roman it was very comprehensible and for a few long moments it rendered him motionless. It rendered him motionless to know that so many beings with such complex systems could be wiped away in the next few centuries to come. It rendered him motionless that some of them would still be fighting for a little good in the world even when all hope would be lost.

And then his mortal body reminded him that he now had bodily needs that needed to be addressed. And rather soon at that. Face heating up he tried to figure out what customs humans had nowadays concerning those functions. His mind cooperated and he remembered the concept of “restrooms”. Hopefully he would find one soon and not anger whoever had brought him here with breaking the social cues of human decency.

Slowly he pushed himself upright and made his way off the bed. It took a few tries until he managed to hieve his legs off the bed, align them correctly and stand still on them. With wobbly steps he agonizingly slowly made his way to the door of the room he was in.

Later on Roman would admit that he should have thought more thoroughly about his course of actions. He should have tried to recall that the last sapient being he had seen, had been the Fraction that had caused his downfall. He also should have realized that human decency also valued not being naked in a strangers house.

But when he opened that door out of his room and stepped into the living room where Janus was standing with a bowl of water in his hands and now blatantly staring at him, none of that had remotely crossed his mind.

His grasped for air for a second. The Fraction moved and he tumbled backwards, his hand just managing to grab the door frame before he would have fallen down. Dizziness filled his mind and dark spots clouded his vision.

The Fraction came closer and closer and Roman didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do. So he cowered down to his knees and hid his head underneath his arms. Because his legs were to weak to run, his mind to jumble to hold himself in a conversation much less an argument.

Yes, making himself small like this truly was the only thing he could to to protect himself.

“One might think you expect me to be as wrathful as yourself, little Sprite,” Janus said from above Roman and he flinched.

“There, there stop that. To my own surprise I have very little interest in punishing you. Or torturing you, for that matter. So now hush and stand up. We will get you dressed and fed next. After that we can decide what there is left to do. Nod if you understand and agree. If not, speak up.”

“I agree, Fraction.”

Roman’s heart did a flip and he dared to lift his eyes up to meet Janus’. They seemed curious. Somewhat taken aback by the sincerity and respect Roman’s voice had been coated with. Roman too had been surprised by it. More so when he found out what his next words would be.

“I- I might need assistance to get back up. And would humbly request to be shown where the “restroom” is?”

***

Confused, but warm and more comfortable than in a long time, Roman was engulfed in black fleece “sweatpants”, very fluffy red socks and a yellow “sweatshirt” while being sat on Janus’ “couch”. All of the clothing items seemed a little loose on him, which was somewhat confusing, since Janus was approximatly the same height and build as him, if not a bit slimmer.

Then again, Roman didn’t dare to complain about smelling the chamomile and sea breeze scent and the softness of the fabrics he had been wrapped in. He suspected that he would start crying if any of it was taken away. Instead he watched Janus hurry around in the open kitchen, preparing one thing or another.

They looked so human in every step they made, Roman realized. The way they opened and closed drawers, the way how they held things as if they had some significant weight, it fascinated him to see. It fascinated him that they had taken him here. That they had cared for him. That they looked so breathtaking doing anything.

Quickly Roman shook his head. These thoughts must have been summoned by the fact that Janus had been so careful and helpful in every way they had been able to since he had woken up. Surely it was Janus consideration and inexplicable kindness that had caused such thoughts. And maybe the fact that he seemed much more quiet than the time they had met each other before.

Janus had yet to speak with him about what happened or where they had even found him. Really, they hadn’t spoken at all except for those first few sentences minutes prior. It left Roman feeling uneasy and he couldn’t help himself but tense when Janus walked over to him with a bowl of steaming soup in their hands.

They set it down in front of him, also putting down a fork and took the seat across from him on the other side of the table on a low stool. Roman pursed his lips and looked at soup, his stomach suddenly rumbling as he smelled what had been put in front of him. He leaned forward to reach for the food, when his Master’s words rang through his head and he looked up.

Janus was watching him. The trace of smile had been on their face when Roman first had looked up and was ringing all the wrong alarm bells in Roman’s head.

“Why are you-”

And still. Roman had seen it. He had seen it for the past hundred years. For the past millennia.

Weakly he lowered his shoulders and met Janus’ eyes properly.

“Thank you.”

Roman’s hands shook and he clasped them together to get himself back under control.

Letting out a long breath he gathered his nerves and said, “I shouldn’t question you. You have been kind to me. The reason for it does not matter as your mercy is showing more understanding and greatness than I have shown in all our previous meeting. So I thank you for showing me and teaching me this lesson.”

As Roman had spoken, Janus leaned back and crossed their arms. Their expression neutral and their walls still on sharp alert, they didn’t seem to be impressed by Roman’s word.

“It was not I, who did this to you,” they said eventually, gaze flickering over a bruise on Roman’s face, “and we both know as much. Yet I will say, my own behaviour when we first met, wasn’t the best. Now, that I showed you some decency and respect, you proved to have those yourself. Unlike your brutish father, I must remark.”

Roman couldn’t help but gasp. And then he snorted in disbelief.

“What confidence you have to speak like this of the Master of Summer, of Virility himself. I cannot imagine ever saying such a thing to him,” Roman replied morosefully.

***

“Why not? Do you Sprites never converse with your Masters about their flaws and ideas?” Janus asks and watches Roman’s face shift.

Really the Sprite’s face paled and fell at an almost comedic speed. Ashamed Roman looked away, his arms defensively slung crossed over his chest.

And then Janus understood.

“Virility did this to you?”

Slowly Roman raised his gaze to look at them. Janus hadn’t said it as a question but the Sprite still nodded as a confirmation.

Janus knew that they lost control of their expressions, that their anger and disgust clearly telegraphed on their face. But in face of such an atrocity they couldn’t stop it. They couldn’t believe someone would do this to their own offspring.

“I can’t believe someone would do this to their own offspring! Why did he- What was he thinking? Why would he do such a thing to you?” Janus demanded to know.

“It is my punishment,” Roman said as if it was the most logical thing to say.

“For what? For hurting someone he told you to hurt?”

“No, he never told me to hurt you or your sibling. It- I assume it was because I lost my temper. It is not dignified to act in such a way.”

The room was silent for a long time. It got interrupted by Roman’s grumbling stomach. Janus told him to eat; They would return to this conversation at another time. Roman didn’t quite seem to trust it but took the bowl of soup when Janus encouraged him to do so a second time.

For sure it was a sight to behold to watch a being who was possibly thousand times older than Janus was themselves (and they carried a few millennia on their back as well) try their soup. Over the unnatural way of how he grabbed a spoon, how he uncertainly eyed it as he filled it with soup to how he led it to his mouth and took his first spoon. A light appeared in his eyes, his whole body tensed with excitement and then relaxed with such a might, Janus could almost see him loose all his worries from before.

That relief and clear excitement didn’t stop after the first spoonful of soup. Really, Janus could see that Roman’s enthusiasm only seemed to be heightening with every new spoon. So much so that the poor thing had tears in his eyes when he finished his soup.

“You can have more if you like. Just eat slowly to not make yourself sick, darling,” Janus softly told him and got another bowl of soup when Roman nodded enthusiastically.

When Roman eventually finished his food, Janus took his bowl to the dishwasher to clean it. Roman followed to the kitchen, looking at the different devices in quiet curiosity. Really the longer Janus watched the more endearing it became.

It didn’t take long until he first asked who had designed those apparatuses and after laughing at the word choice, Janus went on a lengthy explanation about all the different components that went into all of the kitchen devices and that none of them would have been possible to exist in the way and shape they did if not thousands of people had worked together to engineer, test and redesign tiny parts of them.

Roman kept asking questions after that. More and more he wished to know and it grew late at night when Janus finally reminded him that his mortal body needed rest.

The next morning he stood up and asked what technique the humans had invented to weave these clothes. Janus decided to take him shopping. In the afternoon, he brought him to the local library. For the next week, every morning Roman requested to go back and Janus never found the heart to tell him no and so they brought him there again and again.

Eventually, Janus needed to attend to their duties and they asked Roman if it was allright for him to be alone for a bit. While the Sprite seemed somewhat unhappy with their question, he answered that it naturally was allright for them to leave. He still asked if they knew when they would return, and Janus reassured him that they would be back in two days.

Somewhat dejected Roman agreed that that was quite allright and Janus left him on his own devices.

***

Never in their life had Janus known how long two days could be. Yes, they had been preoccupied with work, yes, every single one of their siblings and their best friends apparently just needed to speak with them about any possible nonsense, so time should be moving quickly. But it didn’t. For some strange reason time didn’t seem to want to move forward and it was truly starting to get to his nerves.

What a joy it was, when they finally had been able to set their work aside for the time being and return to their apartment in the human world. They almost felt giddy stepping into the elevator leading up to the 11th floor. Now they could see the front door and maybe, just maybe their steps were a little more enthusiastic than they needed to be as they went up to door and fished the key out of their pocket.

Opening the door and simultaneously stepping inside Janus called, “I’m back! You better behaved yourself when I was gone!”

No response. A chill ran down Janus’ spine and they quickly hurried further into the flat.

“Oh hello! I didn’t hear you coming-” Roman greeted stepping into the hallway.

The moment he saw Janus’ expression his words stopped and he knitted his eye brows together in question.

Carefully Roman approached and asked, “Is something wrong? Do you need to leave for longer. You don’t need to worry I can get by. It’s-”

“You never told me why Virility did this to you.”

Roman stepped back. He seemed taken aback. But not as surprised as he could have. In the end he must have known that Janus hadn’t forgotten. That Janus still was questioning why a Master like him had thrown one of his strongest and most capable Sprites away.

A sigh hung filled the air and Roman nodded dejectedly. He waved for Janus to follow him into the living room. The table had been set for the two of them and Janus could smell the something from the kitchen. It didn’t even seem to be burnt.

“Go sit, I’ll just turn off the stove and put everything away for later. If you want to eat after everything, that is,” Roman added quickly before he left for the kitchen and fumbled around with a few things.

After that the returned and settled down on the couch seat next to Janus. Now Janus noted, how Roman had dressed himself; He was wearing a white shirt, all properly buttoned and tucked into rather nice wide legged pants in a deep maroon. Added to the shirt was a red west with a subtle brown and gold chequered pattern. He had really tried to dress himself up for Janus.

“Just ripping the bandaid off, as the humans say,” Roman mildly joked, his eyes creasing around the edges in that adorable way, and looked down into his lap. “Master Virility saw it fit for me to be stripped of my abilities and rights after I have acted wrathfully without his approval. Nothing I do should ever happen without his approval I have learnt over the long span of my life.”

For a long moment just sat and thought about what they had just heard.

“So you want me to believe,” Janus summarized coldly, “that your Master took everything you are from you because of a single action of disobedience? That is how petty this Master has been to you?”

“Yes, I suspect so.”

“What do you mean, you ‘suspect’ so? He must have told you why he did this, did he not?”

Roman gritted his teeth and shook his head, “He did not, no. He turned me into this right after he had pulled me and the others away from the human realm. There was no explanation or hesitation shown by him.”

Baffled stared at Roman.

“You- He- That is-”

“That is what I should have expected and what I deserved.”

There is finality in Roman’s words.

“Not because my Master is right to demand perfect obedience from me, but because my behaviour towards your brother and you was unacceptable. He, Logan, he means well. He was trying very hard to be friendly with all of us. He and Patton saw a path to unify our divided people. And I could have tried to aid in that attempt by talking civilly with you when you came in.”

The sudden knowledge and experiences from all those ten of thousands of millennia this Sprite must have, resurfaced now wit full force. For much longer than a human would have stilled Roman remained silent before he met Janus eyes again.

“I deserve this. And I shouldn’t burden you wi-”

“You have no right do decide if I think of you as a burden or not!”

Janus couldn’t retain himself any longer. Vigorously they hopped of the couch and grabbed Roman by the arm. Intensely they looked in his eyes, their left hand darting up to his cheek and holding onto him for their dear life.

“You will respect, that I, Janus, Child of Mechanics, Fraction of Preservation, have chosen to keep you. That I have seen you and declared you to be worthy to remain within me and my realm.”

Their heart pounded so fast. Why was it pounding so fast? Why did Roman’s cheek feel so hot all of a sudden.

“In fact,” Janus added in their wild speech, “I will make sure that once your powers are restored, we will make sure that what our fellow Fractions and Sprites have started will come to fruition. We will unite the Masters and we will see victory come to us.”

Roman’s hands lay on Janus’ sides. His pupils had dilated. His eye lashes fluttered beautifully when he closed them as Janus leaned into the kiss.

“I took your eye,” Roman whimpred into Janus neck as their touches grew more intimate.

“I still have one to see out off, my darling,” Janus huffed into Roman’s ear. “And there is a bit of charm in a disfigured face, isn’t there?”

The suppressed whine was answer enough to Janus. It was their promise that things would be okay in the end.

Entranced in each others arms, the tension around them ebbed away. The uncertainty, the confusion and second guessing finally came to their much needed end. Even though so much was still uncertain, at least now they knew they would have each other.

#tss #sanders sides #roceit #gods au #they aren't really gods but hey it works #ts roman #ts janus #ts patton #ts logan #ts remus #ts virgil #kind of enemies to lovers #mutual pining #was written for the sleepy bean cafe and published back in december 2024 #wecome to interact #no one probably will #but hey it was a fun story to write

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