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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The seventh chapter of my Pat/Pran Hanahaki AU is online! 💕
And Pran sees it – the way Pat's eyes flicker to his lips. The desire written all over his face, probably mirrored on his own. How easy it would be to give in, to get even closer and kiss that mouth like he's always dreamed of...
Show it some love? 💕
And They Were Oarmates
The Fifth Part of My Fic About The Oars by omni-scient-pan-da (One, Two, Three, Four, All)
For @i-have-all-these-freakin-uwus @burntuakrisp @wh33z @reaping-mae @jo-the-nerd @emo-bi-mess @taurianskies7 @the-dumbass-multishipper @pictures-that-are-kinda-cool @iprefertheterminsane @inkytrinket-irii @that-one-queer-poc @tolookatlaterprobably
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Rowan asked, turning to Moira as they traced sigils around the outside walls of a cave.
It was hard to balance and Rowan was constantly worried about falling off the ledge, even with the rope anchoring him to Moria for safety, but apparently, if they wanted to sneak into thte warlock’s hideout undecteted they needed to do some magic of their own.
What Moira had not told Rowan though, was that in order to perform the magic that would let them in undetected, they would need to carefully and exactly trace a very specific rune on the outside of the warlock’s hideout six times, equally spaced. Rowan had no idea how any of that worked, but at this point Moira was his best shot at getting his husband back, so he figured it’d be best to just shut up and do what he was told.
“I’m pretty sure,” Moira told him.
“You can see how that’s not reassuring in the slightest, right?”
Moira just laughed. “Don’t forget that if you go down I’m going down with you lover boy.” she tugged at the rope holding them together. “Just like if you fall off this cliff I’m going with you too. If the warlock catches one of us, the other is surely doomed. So even if you don’t trust me with your life, at least trust me to look after my own.”
Rowan took a deep breath, nodding. She had a point, and they’d been over the plan enough times that Rowan’s shred of hope had actually grown enough to stand on its own. All that was left now was to execute it.
“How many more of these do we have left?”
Moira finished tracing the rune in front of her, making sure each and every line was precise before turning to face Rowan. “One more.”
“And then comes the hard part...”
Moira laughed. “Any plan in which balancing on the edge of the cliff isn’t even the worst part of the plan seems like a pretty damn bad plan.”
Rowan smiled a bit. “I don’t think it’s a bad plan persay, I just think it’s a little on the complicated side. And maybe a little death defying, but then again, I feel like most plans to stop evil warlocks are.”
Moira nodded. “You make a fair point lover boy. Now, lets get this plan into motion.”
***
Meanwhile, inside the very cave Moira and Rowan had been placing runes on, Killian was panicking.
Thankfully, the pain had faded after a few minutes, he didn’t think he could’ve handled much more than that. But now he was a prisoner in his own body. He could see and hear everything that was going around him, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t do anything but just sit there and watch, observing the world around him unless the warlock told him to.
It was the worst feeling Killian had ever felt in his entire life. Scratch that, it was the second worst feeling Killian had ever felt in his entire life. The first worst was when the warlock actually did command him to do something. He had no say in the matter, walking around like a marionette with invisible strings, unable to do anything as he did whatever the warlock asked of him without delay or protest.
The warlock for one, seemed to be enjoying the whole process much more than Killian thought he was capable of feeling, often asking him to do random mundane tasks around the house just to see Killian obediently do them without the ability to complain about his actions.
And while that scared Killian more than he cared to admit, it was marginally better than when the warlock would take him out with him to do whatever things it was a warlock did in his free time. He hated going out alongside him, knowing that if the warlock was attacked or threatened he would have no choice but to sacrifice himself for the vile man that kept him imprisoned in his own body.
His worst fear though was that the warlock would decide to go back on his word to leave Rowan alone, and that one day, the warlock would make a stop at an all too familiar house and Killian would have no choice but to face his husband in his imprisoned mind, unable to tell him that deep down he was still there, that he was still the Killian Rowan knew and loved - or at least he hoped Rowan still loved him - and that all he wanted, more than anything in the entire world was for the two of them to be together again. But if the warlock turned him against his own husband... Killian couldn’t think of a worse fate.
Thankfully, the warlock seemed unaware that Killian had retained his mind after the mind control spell had taken effect, giving him hope that one day he might be able to overpower the spell. After all, the warlock couldn’t hold up the act forever could he? There had to be something that would break the warlock’s concentration, or distract him just enough for Killian to be able to do something, anything to break through from the spell and get control of his own body back.
Of course, there was always the possiblity that the warlock knew Killian was still aware of everything going on around him, and had potentially even left him that way on purpose for his own sick and twisted amusement, to make Killian suffer more. But Killian didn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t have something to hope for, so he continued to try and fight the spell whenever the warlock’s attention wasn’t fully on him.
Currently, the warlock had shut himself into his potions room, working on some horrid conconction he’d surely end up using for his own personal gain and the torment to many others, having left Killian standing in the middle of the kitchen, unable to move, or sit to rest his legs, or even call out to remind the warlock that he could only stand for so long before his legs gave out. It wouldn’t have been the first time the warlock forgot to tell him to do something important. There had been quite a few times Killian had been forced to fall asleep still standing upright, or sitting on the couch, or in the middle of whatever task the warlock had last designated for him, because the warlock hadn’t remembered to tell him to lay down.
Killian mentally shook his head out. There was no time for focusing on the past when the important thing was the present. The warlock was gone, this was his chance to escape, to rebel against the spell and get back to his husband before the warlock could track either of them down.
He had long since realized that trying to get himself to take a full step to walk out of there was not going to be a successful endeavor. Instead he needed to start smaller, with twitching his finger at his side or something like that, enough to start to give him control over his body once more, but not enough that it would gain the notice of the warlock before he could fully escape. The man was much more observant than Killian would’ve thought him to be, and often noticed his more subtler attempts at disobeying his orders and quickly covered the loopholes in his commands before Killian could get away with his escape.
He had to admit, this worried him a little. If the warlock knew so much there had to be some sort of spell that would let him be tracked down should he ever escape. And the last thing he wanted to do was lead the warlock straight to Rowan if he didn’t already know where he was. His only choice was to find a way around the rebound spell and take the warlock down before he made his escape. Poison maybe? If it was an internal reaction maybe the protection spell wouldn’t be triggered. But that brought up issues all by itself. Any poison that the warlock himself had was sure to be easily detectable by the warlock, after all they were poisons designed by the warlock himself. But there was no way Killian would be able to sneak away long enough to be able to find poison to kill the man without him noticing his escape.
Killian sighed. This was going to take longer than he tho-
Wait. He had sighed.
Killian felt his hopes begin to rise, summoning up the exasperation he had just felt and trying to sigh again.
It worked! Sure it wasn’t the biggest sign of autonomy out there, but he hadn’t been able to sigh before, which meant that the warlock’s magic wasn’t infallible after all. He still stood a chance of escaping.
I’m coming Rowan, he thought to himself, more determined to get out of there than ever before. I’ll be home soon, I promise.
***
Little did he know his husband was just outside the room, preparing to stage a rescue.
“This is your last chance to turn back loverboy. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
Rowan nodded. “I’m doing whatever it takes to save Killian.”
Moira took a deep breath, steeling her nerves. “Now remember, we get out of there with a dead warlock or we don’t get out of there at all. If we don’t kill him now he’ll never stop hunting us down. If you thought he was brutal when you ran into him before, this will be ten times worse because this makes it personal.”
“I know,” Rowan confirmed. “It’s too dangerous to leave him alive anyways. I never want anything like this to happen to anyone again.”
Moira nodded, adjusting the bag she carried with her, examining its contents and makin sure she had everything she needed to disable any other spells that might interfere with getting the job done. Thanks to runes her and Rowan had put up around the place, the warlock’s alarm system should’ve been disabled, to where he’d have no idea his wards have been broken until it was too late for him.
“Rowan...” Moira began. “You know there’s a possiblity that... That Killian is already-”
“He’s not,” Rowan said firmly, refusing to accept any other alternative. “Killian is strong enough to resist whatever magic shit the warlock may try and come up with to overtake him and he wouldn’t just kill a perfectly good bodyguard for no reason. Killian is fine.”
“But if he isn?”
“He is.” Rowan glared at her so fiercely that Moira had no choice but to just shut up.
“Alright, if you’re insistent that he’s okay I’m not going to argue with you... I just... I don’t want you to be too shocked if... If he’s not the way you remember him.”
Rowan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I... I appreciate it Moira... But... He.... Killian is fine. I would know if he wasn’t.”
Moira nodded, knowing there was no way she’d be able to convince him to change his mind about anything.
“And... Are you prepared?”
“For what?”
“If... If there’s no way to get your memories back.”
Moira fell silent for a few moments. “It... It would be nice to know who I used to be... But I know who I am now and I’ve known that there might not ever be a way to get my memories back for a while. And if all else fails then at least I’ll know that I was able to stop a horrible man from doing even more horrible things.”
Rowan nodded.
Moira smiled a bit, although Rowan could tell that it was forced. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that though.”
Rowan smiled back, trying to be as reassuring as he possibly could, although he didn’t know how good of a job he was doing, considering how stressed he was about this going well. “If I have anything to do with it, I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to help you get them back.”
Moira chuckled a bit. “I know Rowan. Now, are you ready?”
Rowan let out a breath, trying to get his hands to stay steady. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Moira nodded, turning her attention to the mouth of the cave.
The shields had been dismantled, and all that was left was for the two of them to break in and get rid of the green warlock once and for all.
***
Meanwhile Killian was stuck standing in the kitchen, elated over the fact that he had been able to sigh. He had no idea how he had done it the first time and so far he hadn’t been able to replicate it again, but it was a step in the right direction. Maybe he just wasn’t starting small enough. He was able to breathe on his own without the warlock tellling him to hadn’t he? Maybe he’d just been taking the whole direction thing too literally.
He had no idea what the spell had done to him, maybe it was just mind over matter? Could it have been that simple? He tried to wiggle his fingers at his sides.
Nothing.
Killlian sighed again. Of course it wouldn’t-
Wait, another sigh.
Was it emotionally related? But there had been plenty of times in which he’d been upset at the warlock and still hadn’t been able to do anything that the warlock hadn’t told him to.
A loud crash came from the potions room.
Of course, Killian thought to himself. He gets upset and he gets to throw a tantrum, but I get upset and all I get to do is let out a sigh.
Something moved in Killian’s peripherals. What was that? he thought. Nothing should be able to get in here without triggering the wards, and if the wards are triggered then I should be able to-
He paused, hoping and praying to whatever gods were listening that this would work.
Very slowly, using as much concentration as he could manage, he took a single step forward, internally letting out a cheer. He focused again, trying to take another step, trying not to get his hopes up as he was able to move around the kitchen freely to go investigate the noise.
After all, the warlock had ordered Killian to protect him, hadn’t he? And what kind of bodyguard would Killian be if he just sat there while something or someone broke in, especially if they had managed to get past the wards without either of them noticing.
Killian tried not to be too excited at his success. Of course, if there was an actual intruder, that meant he’d have to defend himself and the warlock from whatever danger had broken in to attack the warlock til his dying breath, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to let the warlock die, freeing him from his prison and allowing him to return home to his husband.
The last thing in the world he expected to see was his husband, standing in the middle of the warlock’s lair and staring at him in shock.
“Killian?”
***
Rowan knew Killian was being held captive by the warlock. He knew the warlock would keep him alive. He knew that he was fine, he would’ve felt it in his heart if Killian had died.
But to see him standing there in front of him, to see him living breathing and alive, and relatively unharmed, Rowan wanted to fall to his knees and break down in tears.
His husband was alive, he was okay, he was-
Killian lunged at him
- Attacking him apparently.
“Killian it, it’s me,” Rowan protested, backing up to dodge Killian’s attacks instead of actually fighting back. “It’s Rowan, your husband, I’m-”
Tears welled up in his eyes. No, no, no, this wasn’t happening, it wasn’t happening, they were supposed to find Killian and they were supposed to rescue him, to take him back home where he could be safe and sound, and free from harm’s way of the wizard, he was supposed to be okay, he was supposed to be himself, and this was- This was not Killian.
***
Killian hated himself. He hated himself for being weak and he hated himself for getting trapped under the warlock’s spell in the first place. If only he had held out for a little longer, if only he hadn’t provoced the man that literally held his life in his hands, he could’ve done something to help his husband instead of fighting him, off, he could’ve escaped with his husband instead of trying to hurt him, he could’ve done- he could’ve done anything else to try and and finally get out of this place, but no, he had to run his mouth and get trapped in a stupid spell that was making him act against his will.
He was attacking the one person in the world that he loved most and there was nothing he could do to stop it. And Rowan had no idea what was happening. He couldn’t even tell him that he didn’t want to be doing this and the last time Rowan had seen him-
Oh god, Killian didn’t even want to think about the way he had just stood up and abandoned him the day that the warlock had summoned him. He’d been acting under the warlock’s spell and he regreted not being able to give him a proper goodbye ever since he’d left him and now instead of being able to hug him and tell him how sorry he was he was attacking him. What if Rowan deemed him not worth saving, what if Rowan didn’t even want him back after all this, what if Rowan found this to be the final straw that made everything come crashing down around him. The warlock had taken everything from him and now, he was going to take his husband.
***
Rowan was not giving up on his husband. He hadn’t come all this way to find his husband and get him back only to give up because he faced a little extra resistance along the way. Rowan’s blood was boiling. Rebound magic be damned, Rowan was going to murder that damn warlock if it was the last thing he did.
“I’m going to save you Killian,” he told him, determination rampant in his voice. “No matter what it takes, I’m going to save you and end whatever curse that stupid wizard put on you, if it’s the last thing I do okay? It’s you and me, we’re in this together, even if that stupid magic has taken hold.”
Killian’s eyes were different this time. They seemed to soften at his words, unlike when he had initially disappeared. He had seemed so distant and uncaring then, Rowan didn’t even know if his words were being heard but now-
“He’s still in there,” Rowan breathed, somewhat in awe. “Continue with the plan Moira! See if you can find your memories, I’ll hold him off for now, Killian is- He’s still in there, and if anyone can bring him back its me!”
Moira looked between the two husbands. It was clear that the warlock had trained his bodyguard to fight well, if he hadn’t already had those skills in the first place, and with Rowan refusing to fight back...
“I’ve got it, I promise,” Rowan insisted, barely dodging another attack as he sensed her hesitation. “He won’t hurt me, I know it, whether the warlock put a spell on him or not, he won’t hurt me.”
Moira sighed. The boy was going to get himself killed. But he seemed insistent on trying to save his husband, however rash his decision may have been, and there was no point in trying to join the fight now. Rowan would probably kill her if she tried to attack his husband and they only had so much time before the warlock came back from whatever it was he was doing and then they’d have to end things quickly, potentially sabotaging her chances at getting her memories back.
She glanced back at the husbands once more before darting further into the warlock’s lair. Rowan knew what he was doing. She just had to trust him.
***
Killian could cry from relief.
Rowan wasn’t giving up on him, he wasn’t going to leave him, and in all honesty, he didn’t know why he’d ever thought otherwise.
Afterall, it was Rowan they were talking about, and no matter what had happened to the two of them it had always been the two of them together. Neither of them was planning on giving up now.
“C’mon Ian! You can fight this!” Rowan insisted, even as Killian landed a punch square onto his jaw. “I know you’re strong than this, whatever magic he infected you with is no match for you! You’re the toughest person I’ve ever met Ian, and I love you so much, you’re stronger than this and I know you can fight back!”
Magic.
Killian had magic of his own, there had to be something he could use to fight against this right?
Granted, the warlock hadn’t really taught him spells per say, all he was really able to do was unleash a surge of energy whenever his emotions got too out of control. But maybe... Maybe he could use that to his advantage. If he could somehow use the raw energy, the magic stored within him then maybe.. Just maybe he could overpower the spell. It wasn’t like the warlock could constantly be channeling energy into the spell right? Him being able to sigh on his own was proof enough of that. Which meant there had to be some sort of limit to it, all he had to do was just... Override the system right? And then maybe, just maybe he could break free of this wreched spell that had been controlling him for far too long.
A cry snapped Killian back to the present moment as Rowan was knocked back across the room.
“I’m not going to hurt you Killian!”
Tears slipped down Killian’s face. His husband was caring and loyal til the very end, even if Killian was being mindcontrolled by the man that had ruined their lives.
“I know you can fight it, I believe in you Killian, and no matter what, I love you. I’ve loved you for so long, since I was old enough to know what love is, and I’ll never stop fighting to find my way back to you. It’s always been you and me, and it always will. We’re in this together, me and you til the end.”
Killian was taking a step forward.
Then another.
And another.
He couldn’t help it and he knew if he made it all the way to Rowan things wouldn’t end well for them. He needed to break free of the spell and he needed to do it now. He wouldn’t hurt his husband anymore, he couldn’t hurt Rowan any more, he had to finish this now, he had to break free, if he couldn’t do it for himself then he had to do it for-
Magic rippled through Killian’s veins. It had always been triggered by Rowan, that had always been the only thing to make him feel strongly enough to let it flow through him. He wouldn’t hurt Rowan, he needed to save him, he needed to protect him, not attack him.
Killian faltered. He could feel the magic within him rebelling against the spell that the warlock had put upon him. He felt like he was being ripped apart.
Killian sank to his knees on the ground, holding his head in his hands as he screamed. It hurt worse than it had when the spell had initially been put on him, but now, now he had something to fight for and he didn’t plan on letting it go any time soon. Killian loved his husband more than anything, he had to hold on, he had to do whatever he could to over power the warlock’s magic, he needed to fight.
And if there was one thing Killian was good at, it was fighting for those he loved the most.
***
“Killian!” Rowan cried, picking himself up to wrap his arms around his husband.
He had never heard of a scream so agonizing in his entire life and it pained his soul more than any attack he had ever felt in his entire life.
“You can do it Killian, you can do it, you can fight it, I belive in you Killian, I’m here-”
Killian choked back a sob, his arms wrapping around Rowan, holding him tight enough to nearly break his bones, going through some internal struggle that Rowan could only guess at.
Rowan ran a hand through his hair. “I’m here, I’m here... I love you... You can do it, you can do it, I know it, it’s okay, I love you...”
Killian let out another agonizing scream before falling silent, his body slumping against Rowan’s as he lost conciousness.
Rowan held him tightly in his arms, kissing the top of his head. “I need to get you out of here... It’s not safe for you to stay, not considering what we’re about to do.”
From deeper within the lair, a door swung open and the warlock stepped out.
They were out of time.
***
Moira combed through the place, darting into every room, and peering into every nook and cranny.
Everything she had ever reasearched said that memory magic was always always, always tied to some sort of object that held the memories in them.
So in theory, all she had to do was find whatever object the warlock had stored her memories in and reclaim it, and then she could remember all that she’d forgotten at the hands of such an evil man.
Unless of course, he had destroyed the object, which meant that the memories were gone forever.
But Moira didn’t like to think about that.
Men like the warlock didn’t just take one person’s memories and call it a day, no the warlock was stuck up, he was proud of himself, he thought he was impenatrable, the most amazing magic user to ever live, anything he did he did in mass numbers.
It was a go big or go home world, and the warlock was not one to just give up and go home.
So naturally, it made sense that he’d want a record of his accomplishments, trophies to keep and remind himself of all that he had done.
He wouldn’t have destoryed the memories, he would’ve imbued them in something grand, and kept them in a room where they could easily be put on display. That was what Moira was searching for.
Unless of course, her analysis of the warlock was wrong, in which case, there was no hope of Moira finding her memories.
But as long as the husbands were trying to help Killian through his mind control she had time to search for them, that was the important thing.
An earsplitting scream made her pause in her search. Either things were going horribly wrong or horribly well with Killian and Rowan, and while she hoped it was the latter, she knew that either way their time was running out.
None of the rooms she checked had what she was looking for and if she didn’t find her memories soon, she was doomed. She needed to secure them before the battle with the wizard, not after, otherwise the magic keeping her memories sealed would disappate and no one seemed to know what would happen to them then.
She pushed open another door, peaking her head inside, only to find herself face to face with the warlock himself.
They were out of time.
A/N: Heyyyy, so I said this was coming back in June? Obviously, it is very much not June now, September is almost over, so sorry about that, but hopefully the longer part makes up for the wait. Hopefully, if I can actually stick to what I’m saying, this will have one more part for six parts in total, and then an epilogue, so uhhh... Yeah, as always, please reblog and/or comment on this fic to be tagged in the next update, (which you can find the link to HERE when it comes out) and seriously, comments make my life whether they’re in the tags or via the actual comment section, and they also motivate me to write more often so... Please leave comments! See you all in hopefully less than the three and a half months it took me to post this one and enjoy the cliffhanger!
Burnt Heart: Ch 7. Burning Bridges, Repairing Bridges
“It's a fine day
People open windows
They leave their houses just for a short while
They walk by the grass
And they look at the grass
They look at the sky
It's going to be a fine night tonight
It's going to be a fine day tomorrow.”
The Emperor sang in a soothing tone. Most would describe it as elegant. In her heart, she felt a sadness to it, however, her smile didn’t falter as she gardened with her sweet Eleonora. The flowers were in a lush bloom, cherry blossoms and natural white and red roses coming to life. Every moment she was able to spend with her and Annuciata was a special occasion. You couldn’t waste the time of others.
Eleonora was much like her mother in many ways. She appreciated finery, she loved to dance, and she had a weakness for anything fluffy and cute. The princess thought her mother's mechanical creations were wonderful, but Eleonora preferred to study chemistry. She loved experimenting in the laboratory and more than once, had burned off her eyebrows. The princess was determined to create an alternate source of fuel besides coal or gas. It would be cheaper but more effective. Yet, in her spare time, when her mother would take her to the Kikai Empire, it was lovely to be outside and experiencing the culture of the Hasai.
However, Elenora was just as she was in the garden as in the lab.
Messy.
Covered in dirt from head to foot, the princess was still digging deeper.
"I just know there is a bigger root I could take a tissue sample from down here..." Eleonora said, half of her upper body in the ground. "Are you sure there's not a Zemlja anywhere near here? This would be over in a pinch if I had one of them helping me. Since my elder brother and sister are too scared to get dirt under their nails." She emphasized the last part, attempting to use reverse psychology to obtain what she wanted. She was sneaky that way. "Or was it worms they are afraid of?"
"Dear, you're going to ruin your new dress." Annuciata sighed, knowing how persistent her daughter could be. "You can get a servant to do that."
"But the root has to be perfect!"
“I believe Athena is afraid of sharks, and Griffith of spiders, scorpions and the common house fly.” Zannah smiled fondly, clipping thorns from a rose bush.
The royal twins were adults themselves now, with obligations and responsibilities in the Empire. Neither had found a potential lover, despite being in their early thirties now. Whenever their sister from another mother came to visit, they were quick to follow. At the current moment, the twins sat on lounging chairs, frowning at Zannah outing them.
“It’s just that they have huge teeth and the blackest eyes.”
“Little sister, you never know what you can find underground in the dirt.”
Zannah looked down in the hole, patting Eleonora’s head. “Just behind your foot. Try there my deer.”
"Pfft, sharks have teeth and creepy crawlers creep, you should be afraid of something more lethal like the hemorrhagic fever. Not going to find anything but worms and bugs in dirt. Maybe an ancient skeleton if I'm lucky." Eleonora snickered and then tried the area her Godmother suggested. She dug around the area of the exposed root, and examined the thickness. "Hm... this might do. These plants produce a lot of oils I could possibly utilize."
"Darling, you're seventeen, you don't have to worry about creating an efficient biofuel right now, save that until you're old and gray." Annuciata assured her daughter. "You'll have time later. For now, spend some time with Athena and Griffith. I'm sure they'd love to play a game of hide and seek with you."
"You mean hide and 'cheat' they always sniff me out." Eleonora pouted with her arms crossed, looking just like her mother when she did so. "It's not fair."
“Oh, come now. It’s just that we’ve had more practice.” Griffith sat up, putting his magazine on new Danjur trends down.
“How about we share a nice cold beverage once we’re done together. After that, we can go down to the ocean and look at the coral together. That’s alright with you, right mother?”
When Zannah looked to Athena and saw the light bounce off her face, she faltered, if only for a moment, before she composed another smile. “As long as you three remain safe.”
"What about the shaaarks? Someone might be scared." Eleonora teased her sister with a wide grin.
"El, be nice to your sister."
"What? She teases me all the time for being a nerd."
"Nerds will rule the world one day, dear, go have fun."
"All right, all right, I guess I just got one last thing to say..." The princess took a sip of lemonade and then declared, "The last one there is a rotten petri-culture!" Eleonora darted away toward the ocean.
"... where does she get all that energy?" Annuciata watched as Athena and Griffith bounded off after their sister. "I wonder if she got into my coffee stash when I wasn't looking."
“Perhaps she did.” Zannah rose from the ground, watching the three bound away chasing and playfully calling each other names. Taking off her sunflower hat, Zannah looked up at the sun, deep breaths in and out.
"It is nice to be able to do this." Annuciata rose from her chair under the umbrella and joined Zannah on the grass, gracefully sweeping her skirts to the side. "Though I do think there is something we must discuss, my love. Sooner rather than later, despite the bitterness it brings."
“Yes.” Zannah spoke the word in a tone that made peace with what conversation was to come, that it would be foolish to run from it. Didn’t mean she liked it though.
"I'm getting older, love." Annuciata told Zannah, kissing her hand. "My golden locks are turning white and my skin is wrinkling. I'm 47 this year. Soon, Eleonora will be of age to take the throne in Danjur. Hopefully, she will find someone who has made me as happy as you have... but I must not forget the reality of the situation." She took a small breath, and said. "I will die before you."
Zannah turned to her lover, not a wrinkle on her face, nor an imperfection in her black hair. The only change in her emerald skin was a sad frown etched into her features. Her golden eyes were heavy and wet. Age it seemed, was no friend of hers. “You will die. Then my children will die. Then Eleonora will die. Except me.”
"Are you truly going to live forever?" Annuciata asked Zannah. "Or will you one day join me in death?"
“Are you asking if I would commit suicide for you my love?” Zannah faked a smile, trying to reassure herself. “I truly don’t know if I’ll ever age again. When I was told the possibility of becoming a warrior that time could not kill or poison me beyond my prime, I relished the idea. I was still but a child. I thought I could use that kind of life to make sure my Empire was rebuilt to its proper glory. But... when I look at my own daughter, when I see my image like I would a mirror, I know a life being a god made flesh all alone is too high a punishment. I wish you could join me, that I’d hold you forever and have a partner through the most difficult of hardships time would throw at me. Otherwise... well, I don’t think we know many who would willingly try to kill me in open combat. Perhaps your parting gift in this life would to have me poisoned so that I might join you.” Zannah laughed darkly, the idea heartbreaking, but a possibility.
"Stop being silly, you know I would never ask a thing nor carry out such a horrid plan." Annuciata slapped Zannah with her fan on the arm. "What I meant was, would you be stuck here forever or would you join me in the world of spirits? It would be awfully lonely without you there... and I would love for you to meet my parents." She told the Empress. "My father and mother were total opposites. She was a fierce navy captain; he was a mega-dork. But they were so happy together. I can still remember my mother being so strong to defeat her opponents at sparring, but gentle enough to braid my hair." The Queen of Danjur smiled softly. "And my father always listened to my ideas. He helped me build the first Land Rider prototype, you know. It fell apart, but we tried again and again until we got it right. They have each other in the spirit world... I'd like to have you one day."
“I think I’d end up in whoever was correct in what version of a hell exists.” Zannah looked to the heavens, reaching a hand out. “I’ve done... so many things wrong. Killed people, betrayed friendships, be charged with war crimes. And although I’m filled with regret now for the lives I’ve taken and betrayed, there’s no salvation or retribution for me. I can feel my brothers taunting me, waiting for me in the afterlife.” Zannah continued on, not giving a chance for Annuciata to immediately rebuttal. “I love my people. I love my family of five with you, Eleonora, Tod, and the twins. I used power for the betterment of this Empire, to give peace of mind to the Hasai people. Every act of sacrifice I made on my soul, I did for all of them. But with you all gone... what will I become? What will I do if left with my power? This burning fire deep within. I wish there was a way to keep you here with me, but you are an angel who will eventually need to return to heaven. I’m afraid of living, but I’m also afraid of death and what lies beyond for me.”
"... everyone has done something wrong in this lifetime, Zannah. There are others out there who have made worse mistakes." Annuciata reminded her lover. "Though sometimes, there are a few that can be redeemed. Surely you know this too. Perhaps your love for your family, for me, for Eleonora... perhaps that can help you see that sometimes all you need is someone to believe in you."
“But that won’t stop you from eventually leaving me. I’ll never grow old with you. I’ll never---"
“My emperor.” A servant suddenly interrupted them, respectfully bowing. “T0-D has returned. But he’s brought along Sir Kahli instead of the runaway. He wishes to speak to you.”
Zannah looked at the servant with blank eyes that traveled through him. It seemed that one of her sins finally caught up to her. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Tell him to wait for me in the throne room.”
"Do you need me to accompany you, love?" Annuciata asked Zannah. "I'd be happy to help in any way I can."
“I should have a witness to keep me from doing any public violence I suppose.” Zannah rose from her garden floor, choosing to get changed into more formal wear for the occasion.
When she entered the throne room, Kahli wasn’t bowing. His eyes trembled with fury looking at her. In return, she gazed at him with shallow indifference. “Kahli. I don’t recall calling for you. Though it has been a while since we spoke face to face.”
“You haven’t aged a day... it’s over Zannah. Zizi knows about Grievous. She knows how you used me to revive the Waku. She knows how you used my life debt to further the growth of the Empire. It nearly tore us apart. Perhaps the damage has been done and the final crack is yet to come. Regardless, I demand you release me from the rest of my debt.”
“Demand? From your Emperor?”
Annuciata followed Zannah, making sure to smooth her skirts. Though as soon as the Queen of Danjur saw Kahli and the look on his face, she sensed something was amiss. Kahli avoided the Kikai Empire like the plague unless Zannah called him. It was all due to the debt... and she had an inkling that the secret was no longer just that; a secret.
“I tire of our relationship Zannah. I have a family to look after. Have I not given you enough?”
“A debt is a debt Kahli.” Zannah tilted her head at him, curious on what she should do with him. “You still have hundreds of flowers to help bloom into this world Kahli. The red garden of the Waku needs to be filled.”
"Dear," Annuciata placed her hand on top of Zannah's. She thought of the situation unraveling quickly. If Kahli's family knew, then Zizi knew. If news of this incident reached the royals, it could have a damaging effect on the trust between the kingdoms. While there would never be war, there would be much more strife... strife that had just been mended a short time ago. "Perhaps Kahli is right."
“And I just what, let him walk away free?” Zannah studied Kahli, wondering just what to do to him. A warrior of his caliber free from her machinations. He provided life to her... but perhaps his blood could be more of use. “Hmmm. I suppose. Zarazu would be angry, but she wouldn’t dare leave negotiations from this little saga. However, if we push the issue further after the truth has been discovered, I couldn’t be so sure what would follow. Kahli, do you truly want to be free of this debt to me? Free of the reach of the Empire?”
“I do.”
“I can think of only one substitute. You too, hold the blood line of the Dragon. You hold the fire of Exodrum. Give me that power.”
Kahli blinked, taking a few steps back. “What?”
“Give me the power you once acquired for the sake of your wife. Give it to me for her continued support. With it, I will provide for the Empire continuing from where you will now walk away.”
"Love, are you sure that is a good idea?" Annuciata appeared to be concerned. Such a power had already made Zannah unable to age. While she was still very much mortal in some ways, the Queen of Danjur had heard stories since she was little of too much power corrupting others. Power was a drug that could cause madness. That was the last thing she wanted for her lover.
“I will take the flame to the volcano to Fel. There, he will watch over its power until I know what to do with it.” She looked at Kahli, who seemed apprehensive about it. “I’m not going to use it to burn the world. Your tension is unwarranted.”
"Perhaps a sealed agreement would ease you further, Kahli? Ensure both parties kept their word?" Annuciata suggested to the Waku and to Zannah. "Bound by magic?"
“Another life debt? Another bond?” Kahli was unsure.
“What’s to be scared of Kahli. I promise to not use your flame to burn away the world. And if you agree, you and your family will never have to worry about political ties to the Empire so long as you wish for.”
"... Kahli, do you truly want to wish to be free?"
His family needed him. He knew Zannah always had a long game in mind, and he’d lose a great amount of power, but this is what he wanted. “I do.”
Zannah walked towards Kahli, extending a hand to his chest. “Kahli. Exodrum as my witness, you willingly release the flame of destruction within you. Your blood of the dragon, is gone.”
Lightning struck through Kahli’s body, illuminating his skeleton. Screaming upwards, fire roared from his mouth from the agony he felt. Zannah was taken aback by the reaction, feeling her wrists blaze with pain herself suddenly. Slowly stepping away from Kahli, a great flame flickered in her palm, whistling loudly and drawing every lit lantern in the room into it. The Waku fell backwards, his chest sizzling with agony. From the flame, two eyes looked down at Zannah, silent in its judgement of Kahli and herself. What’s more, it’s gaze spoke silently to the Emperor. Zannah took two steps back, struggling to keep the flame in control.
“It’s so warm. So powerful. The flame of a god. Yes. Oh yes. I can see so many possibilities from it. Annuciata. I could use this to make you immortal. Our children immortal. I could use it to annihilate those who bring darkness upon the world. If I don’t do something with this fire, it might kill everyone here. I want- it wants me to absorb it.”
Kahli's throat was completely parched, unable to speak. His eyes were dry, constantly blinking to see once more. Despite this pain, he heard the whisper of the fire that only the Hasai could hear.
“You disregard my power? Pathetic you welp. Perhaps the Waku aren't the champions I needed. Perhaps this Ocho is what I need for my chosen champion, as she always has been. My Dorami. No Hasai has taken two sacred flames though. Let us see if she burns.”
"Love," Annuciata was spooked by all this talk of magic and most definitely power. While the Queen of Danjur adored her lover, she also knew how seductive power could be to the Empress. She had to make sure nothing else would risk corrupting her. "You already have what you need. Give back this ability to heavens... please."
Zannah heard a voice warmer than the fire. No, it wasn’t quite that simple. The voice was softer, while the fire burned in her palm. Turning to Annuciata, Zannah made the choice when she saw the look in her eye. “I choose... I choose to release the flame of Exodrum.”
The eyes in the fire flared, and a voice echoed in her mind. “Interesting. You might not want additional power, but I will not take back my flame. This fire shall be housed in another.”
The flame howled loudly, exploding outwards, flying out a window in a torrent, disappearing from the palace. Zannah screamed, her right hand receiving three-degree burns. All of the light was taken from the room for a few moments, before the natural light of the sun illuminated everyone to normal levels.
The sudden burst of energy from the flames sent Annuciata topping backwards, skirts flying over her head. Once the air had settled, she huffed, pushing lace and petticoats from her face, downward to cover her legs. Her styled hair was an absolute mess, and she was not happy about it. Yet, the sulking would have to wait. She quickly got to her feet, noticing one heel was missing. Sighing in frustration, she kicked off the other and hurried down the few steps to her lover.
"Zannah?! Zannah, I heard you scream!"
“God- FUCK!” The Emperor keeled over in agony, her burns crushing her will to immediately stand.
Kahli had never seen Zannah in such pain before, and would never imagine seeing her on his knees. Perhaps his wife was channeling her spirit in him, because an audible smirk left his being.
Zannah looked at Kahli looking down at her, laughing at her. With her rage, she used her good arm, launching a lightning bolt at him. The electricity sent him skidding across the floor after hitting him in chest. “Don’t. You. Mock me.”
Kahli twitched from her electricity. His body felt far more brittle now.
As he stood, the Emperor was already on her feet, clutching her injured hand.
“The debt has been settled. Leave my palace.”
"EEEEEK!" Annuciata crouched down and covered her head when Zannah released a sudden burst of lightning. "Fuck a steam engine, was that really necessary?!" She could feel the static electricity in the air. Thankfully she was not wearing any jewelry which would conduct electricity. Rushing over to Zannah, Annuciata took off her giant cord of silk from her corset. It was the only material soft enough not to injure the hand further. Carefully, she started to wrap her lover's hand. "Hold still, I'm sorry, I know it hurts, but we have to keep it covered to prevent infection---hold still."
“It was. God. My hand. My fucking hand.” Zannah leaned against Annuciata as Kahli limped out of the Empire.
"Shh, shh, now, we'll get a healer in here and fix your hand." Annuciata was a tiny thing compared to Zannah, but she still had strong legs. All those ballet lessons were certainly paying off now. She supported her lover's weight, and tried to keep her mind occupied. "After all, it is imperative that it is healed, how else will you give me one of those wondrous massages?"
“Yes. I will recover. This pain is nothing.” With the odd moan of pain, Zannah continued onwards to retreat and lick her wounds.
~
Kahli flew back on a Wyvern provided by the Empire. Would be the last ride he’d take from them if he could help it. It would be about dinner now in Hyrule, the sun painting the sky in orange and purples. At his home, Kahli could only make it to the lounge chair on the deck before needing to collapse from exhaustion. No food all day and injuries would break down even the strongest men.
The whole family was outside near the fire pit. Keira, ever being the bubbly one, suggested that it was high time to teach Grivy how to make delicious s'mores. However, Urboro walked back inside to get another pitcher of juice for her younger siblings when she noticed the front door was open... just a bit. Curious, she went to close it when she noticed her father through the window and nearly jumped out of her skin.
"SWEET FUCK---Dad! What the hell?! Why didn't you call for someone?!" She yanked open the door, and went to him. "What happened?!"
“Hey sweetie. Watch your language.” Kahli had zero energy to scold her on her swearing. “It’s done. It’s over.”
"This situation calls for swearing, you look like shit." Urboro then yelled.
"Manaco! Ahusaka! Someone get their ass out here, Dad's back!"
Both the eldest sons came crashing through the house to the front porch.
"Dad! What happened?!"
"Mom's been worried sick!!!"
“Where is Zizi? Is she safe? Is she alright?” Kahli looked at his sons, trying to stand, but failing.
"WHOA!" Manaco and Ahusaka both reached out at the same time to catch their father. "Worry about Mom in a minute. We'll patch you up before she sees you like this."
"I would call for Aunt Zolori but she's all the way in Uskar." Urboro bit her lip, thinking. "Unless you two could share your fire with him?"
"I could give him some of my energy and Manaco could do the same."
“Do it.” Kahli growled with the intensity of lion as they channeled their energy into his body. Is scaring and burnt flesh started to mend together. “Good. Now let me see your mother.”
"Mom's resting, so we ate outside not to disturb her." Urboro told their father with a small frown. "Mom isn't... she's not well."
"She's not sick, she's just..." Ahusaka struggled to find the correct words. "I don't know what's wrong. We think she's depressed. Or so heartbroken, she's made herself sick."
“Please look after your younger siblings.” Kahli stood up, making his way to his bedroom to see his wife.
"Dad, please just..." Manaco called after his father quietly. "... take it slow? For Mom's sake?"
“I know.” Once his children dispersed, Kahli slowly opened the door. “Zizi. I kept my promise.”
"... how can I be sure you're not a ghost?" Zizi was lying on the bed, on her side, covered with the largest fur in the house for warmth. "Come back to haunt me?"
Kahli crawled into bed with her, carefully spooning her. “A ghost can’t be warm.”
"... are you still angry with me?"
“No. You’ll never have to deal with the Empire again. I will never have to deal with them again.”
"Zannah won't come after you? After us? Our family?" Zizi sounded unsure. Personally, she would not put it past the Emperor to do such a thing. "... and the others..."
“No. And guess what. The process to break off our bond burnt her right hand to crisp. The pain brought her to knees as I stood over her, if only for a moment.”
"... so she can be brought to her knees." Zizi then said. "She should stay there if she knows what is good for her."
“Zizi... I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry for what part I played in this treachery.”
"I know you are." Zizi held his hand tightly. "I know... and you shouldn't have to suffer anymore because of it due to me."
“Zizi. Can you look at me? Please?”
Zizi slowly turned on the bed to face her husband. It was evident she had been crying. Her eyes were all puffy and cheeks were red. She looked so tired and guilt was written on her face.
“You didn’t cause any true pain. It was me.” Kahli ran a hand through her dreadlocks. “I hurt you. And I know I damaged a lot of trust between us. I promise I will do everything to repay it. How do you feel about adopting Grievous?”
"I shouldn't have lashed out at you... I'm sorry I hurt you too." Zizi snuggled closer to her husband, so glad that he was not dead and safe at home. She still felt unsure, but decided that those feelings could be dealt with later. For now, she wanted to be content with what she had and not about the wrongdoings against her. "Trust can be rebuilt, but it will take time. I do not like secrets, Kahli. They always make everything so much more complicated than it needs to be." She sighed, resting her forehead on his shoulder. "No more secrets, Kahli... please."
However, at his question, Zizi did look up at him. "Grivy? ... I thought we already did. In a way."
“With my blessing now.” Kahli didn’t kiss his wife, but he held her. She would be the one the choose if that bridge would be crossed. “I can make something happy out of this mess.”
"If I didn't know any better, you want another child." Zizi raised an eyebrow at her husband. "We have fifteen. Ten girls, five boys. Well... eleven girls if you count Grivy now."
“I just want to give this girl a happy life if she chooses to stay. And... I’m going to stay. Forever. Just give me time Zizi.” His body warmed hers, and he sighed. “Do you want me to go sleep at Manaco’s or on the couch for a start?”
"I think we both need time... but we need each other too." Zizi dismissed the suggestion. "No... just stay here. Keep me warm. I am tired, and have not slept well."
Kahli hugged her tightly. “I love you. I’ll be here to give you peace of mind.”
"I love you too..." Zizi closed her eyes, hoping that the warmth and comfort of her husband would allow pleasant dreams.
________________________________________________________________
Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/612496080371957760/burnt-heart-ch-6-trading-one-pain-for-another
Final Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/613696630305243136/burnt-heart-ch-8-what-comes-around
Thank you for reading! Crossover with @ridersoftheapocalypse Shared work with @s-kinnaly
Lit by the Sun
She came to the castle when she was young, only eleven or twelve, and looking for work. With Paris drenched in sweat and death and plague, there had been no home there for her anymore; and the castle in the gardens, with the sun shining on it like it would never end, seemed to promise that there she could be safe. She was clever enough not to knock at the front door, and rounded to the back, holding her few possessions close to her. She knocked, and the door opened, and warm hands took her in.
Mrs. Potts made sure she had tea and toast before she could start, and by the time she ended the kind woman's face was grave and sad.
“Many's there that died before they could get out," she said. "You were wise to come to us. Another slice? No? Well.”
Plumette's eyes ranged around the room, taking in the friendly objects and the warmth and sunlight. It was so different here, compared to Paris; it was so alive.
“I'll have to speak to Mr. Cogsworth,” continued Mrs. Potts, “but I shan't be surprised if he lets you stay. In an upstairs position, too, I should think; that silly maid he has now has worn out all patience from here to kingdom come. She can go back to the village, and you can stay with us.”
Plumette did stay. That night she spread out in a feather bed—oh, it had been such a long time since she had had a bed like this!—and she felt a smile twitch at her face again, a new feeling after so long being quiet and still.
The first few years were good ones, full of sunshine; as long as Plumette dusted away from the Prince's father, she had no reason to worry. Every one liked her, and she had nothing to complain of—but those first few years seemed dull compared to the life that came later, when she had just turned fourteen.
“I am through with these village knick-knacks!” Cogsworth rumbled. “Idiot, bumbling, slow-minded, block-headed fumblers, all of them! They can go into the fields like scarecrows. We need a proper footman around here, one that won't trip over his own feet at a party.”
Plumette hid her giggles. Cogsworth had been the one to trip last night, but he had blamed it on the nearest boy.
“I am going to write out and see if I can get someone with more refinement,” continued the majordomo. “Proper manners! Preferably an army man. Someone quiet, genteel, unnoticeable. Someone rather more like me. Shouldn't take more than an hour or two.”
Plumette glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. Cogsworth's concept of time must be different from hers, if that's how long it would take to find another him.
Weeks later, and still no responses to Cogsworth's letters. Standing in the kitchen, Plumette polished the silver and hid her smiles at Cogsworth's latest tirade.
“It shouldn't be this difficult! The state of decay in this country is intolerable,” he cried. “The next one that shows up, I'm taking. They can't be any worse than this lot. I threw that last boy out by his ear.”
“It is painful to be thrown out by the ears,” said a new voice from the doorway. “I hope you think of something more original for me, monsieur.”
The whole kitchen turned around at the voice, and Plumette found herself peeking. A Parisian? After so long?
Only fifteen, the boy standing in the doorway looked smarter than paint: yellow vest, cream breeches, the latest styles that she'd only seen in fashion plates. Though his wig was slightly askew—it looked like he had run all the way here, just for the fun of it—he was smart, and trim, and laughing. Plumette loved it, not him, just it—the way the whole world around him was lit by the sun. And she could tell he loved the it, too.
“I don't want any mockery of protocol,” Cogsworth was saying, “and I shan't have any liberties taken with etiquette—”
“What! No, of course. Why would we mess with etiquette? Ah, pardon me—” The boy was rescuing the table setting, rearranging glasses and forks, somehow flipping them and turning them as if they could dance. “—I just notice that your desert spoon is not quite right. It goes here, above the plate. And the white wineglass goes before the red.”
“...really,” said Cogsworth, and for once Plumette thought she heard a tick of admiration in the man's voice.
“Yes. But as you were saying! I would not dream of interrupting the way you do things here,” said the boy. He had gotten to the stove, Plumette noticed, and somehow taken over for Cuisinier in stirring the sauce. “What you do is tres magnifique! I only wish to serve.”
“Well...I suppose,” grumbled Cogsworth. “I'll give you a week to prove you deserve to be a footman of ours.”
“I'll be your best,” said the boy, and winked at Plumette.
“What do you mean, you weren't raised by royalty?” Plumette was laughing. “Your manners are the finest. Your fashions are the most current! You cannot convince me you were not raised by the Sun King himself.” Plumette didn't care a fig where he was raised. He just needed to keep talking.
“No, no! You misunderstand me, mon petite chou. Of course I was the King of my lane," and Lumiere was laughing, too, just to see Plumette keep laughing. “But I am the son of quite ordinary folk, I assure you. I learned to dance as a way to rebel,” and he swept her into a waltz, and her dusting was quite forgotten, and it was lucky then that the prince's father hadn't come in. The prince's father would not care for how hard they were laughing, as they flew past all the beautiful objects he cared for so much; he would prefer it if they focused on the things they tended to, and not the people they were.
“Wigs! And dancing! As rebellion? Such sweet anarchy!” and Plumette collapsed, laughing, and Lumiere had to help her up. She was only sixteen, and he was her best friend.
“You are light as a feather when you dance,” he observed. “But you fly off the handle at the smallest thing! Is there anything so strange about a workingman's son having some panache?”
“It is the strangest thing in the world,” said Plumette, “and a transformation I refuse to abide.” And she was still laughing when he kissed her hand.
He came to find her when she was crying. “Ma cherie? Ma cherie. You cannot stay in there forever."
"I can. I will. Go away, Lumiere."
"This is a lonely tower." He was standing outside the door, but he wasn't coming in. In her feather bed, Plumette stirred and cooed, with tears running down her face. “Don't remain out of my reach. Speak to me.”
“He shouted.” Plumette buried herself further in her blankets. “He calls me in, then mocks the way I do my face, then asks me to try some rouge on his. And then he shouts that I've got it wrong! It's push and pull; he's a young monster.”
“Ah, the Prince is not so bad,” murmured the voice outside the door. “He is having growing pains.”
“He's been having them for years,” retorted Plumette. “He's a beast.”
“Yes, yes, a beast.” Lumiere had found his way in. “The worst beast imaginable. With claws! And sharp teeth!”
Plumette started laughing through her tears. Lumiere nodded at the bed; she nodded back, and made room for him to sit beside her nest of feathers.
“He is only a little younger than us,” said Lumiere. “What, only 18? Soon he will be a man. We all go through stages of the Beast.”
”You didn't,” said Plumette.
“Ma cherie! I was the worst beast. Untameable! A threat to man!”
“Oh, only occasionally.” Plumette's tears had dried; she felt warm. “Thank you for coming to find me. You are my best friend.”
“Ah, Plumette.” He was quiet, now. “I would do anything to remain beside you.”
His rare gravity made Plumette look up at him, a feather in her hair. “Lumiere? Why did we not...well, if you were a beast—why didn't you...?” She was getting flustered. He raised an eyebrow.
“I thought we chose not to. We did try. And I'm too brazen, and you—ah, you call yourself fragile, though I think you are far stronger than you know. It just seemed to go against what we are.”
“But if we...if we decided that, that it was right...”
“Ma cherie?” His pet name for her was hushed; it had never sounded so sacred. “I will never push you. Are you, are you sure?”
She pulled him into a kiss. Ma coeur, he whispered, my heart; and Plumette's world lit up like the sun, and her world was aflame.
“After the ball?” she whispered. The dark outside the glow of the ballroom made a perfect place for confidences. “They never eat as much as they think they're going to. Take a half-done croquembouche and see what we can make of it?”
“Ah! You know how I love the taste of croquembouche.” Lumiere was shining, and she laughed to see him all aglow in his finery. It had been years since she'd come to this castle for the first time, years since they'd met, years since they'd first loved; and her life was rich and golden and full of life, just as she'd come to expect it to be. Every day would be like this, every day forever.
“I'll meet you after the ball,” he whispered, taking her hands in his and carelessly stroking each slim finger. “Run up to your room, as fast as my feet can take me. And then we'll make merry with good food and good dancing, and I will kiss that face until it gleams. Unless you would prefer I start now...?”
“No! Go attend to the monster,” and she laughed. “You'll have to wait until after the ball to see this face. Save your kisses until you see me again. Lumiere, it shall be like minutes.”
“Ma coeur, it shall be years.”
She touched his warm hands and danced away. Only later would she look back at this conversation, and think, yes, years. It shall be years.
The Stranded and The Scaly
Chapter 5 Day 4: The Attack
Content warnings for chapter: Blood, general violence
------
Geoff dashed through the forest in pursuit of the thing that had stolen his duffel bag.
He pushed branches and leaves out of his way as he ran, wincing as the branches scraped at his skin. They wouldn't leave a wound deeper than a scratch, though. It wasn't like the trees were alive and deliberately trying to hurt him, anyway.
He tried his hardest to stay on the beast's trail, but he was losing stamina.
Through trees and bushes they ran, over rocks and fallen logs they leaped, but Geoff wasn't getting any closer to the creature. He couldn't make out exactly what the thing was, anyways. It was a mash of different animals, a freaky little bastard of a thief.
When he happened to step in a puddle of murky green-brown water, Geoff realized just how far he was from his campsite.
As he looked around at the area he was in, he realized that it was a swamp. A potentially dangerous swamp.
He looked across the pond of nasty-looking water and spotted his bag under a tree, the beast dropped it! Now, he just needed a way to cross the larger body of water. A couple of flat-topped stones jutted up from the surface of the water, perfect! He knew how to work with stepping stones!
He took a few steps back before running forwards and leaping onto the closest stepping stone.
He wobbled a bit in place before regaining his balance and leaping to the next stone.
All he had to do was not fall in! He glanced at the next "stone" in his path... except it looked more like a moldy log?
Nevertheless, he took the jump and stood on the "log".
....did he just hear a growl? Did the log just MOVE?!
Geoff struggled to keep his balance as the thing he was standing on began to rise out of the water.
Before he could leap off, he was grabbed by a large, sickly green tentacle. He gasped in shock as the creature rose fully out of the water and glared at him with piercing amber eyes.
It was a mutant alligator?!?!
"Woah, woah! Nice gator.... didn't mean to tread on you! Please let me go?..." he spoke in an attempt to soothe the giant beast.
Geoff only had a split second to catch his breath before the monstrous alligator used it's slimy appendage to slam him onto the ground.
He propped himself up with one arm as he desperately tried to regain the air that the gator had knocked out of his lungs. After only a few gasps, he felt a searing pain in his right leg as the gator sunk it's teeth into his flesh. He hissed in pain, was he going to die here after all?! Was he going to become gator chow?! He hadn't even gotten to celebrate his 18th birthday yet!!..
The gator lifted him off the ground by his leg and swung him around like a ragdoll before throwing him directly into a tree.
Geoff's cries of agony echoed through the swamp as his body made contact with the tree.
He fell to the ground in a heap and sobbed from the stinging, burning sensation in his right leg and the harsh ache in his back from the impact with the tree.
Everything was blurry and slow, he could only make out the deep, bloody wound on his leg and the faint figure of the mutant gator coming to finish him off.
He shut his eyes and was ready to accept his fate when something leaped out of the trees and latched onto the alligator's snout.
Geoff couldn't quite make out what the figure was doing, but it seemed to be attacking the beast!
The figure clawed wildly at the alligator's snout and eyes as the beast snarled in pain.
Geoff could only watch, he was too dazed with pain to do anything else.
After a series of scratching, screeching, and hissing from the blurry figure in a display of dominance, the alligator retreated into the water.
The figure began to approach Geoff, and as it got closer, he found that he could begin to make out more of what the figure really looked like. It was.... humanoid?
It wasn't long before Geoff was met with a familiar face, it was Ezekiel!
"Eze...Ezekiel?... Zeke?...Homeschool?... is that you?.." Geoff smiled weakly as he spoke. Ezekiel's eyes widened as he grunted in response. "Boy, am I glad to see you!..." Geoff let out a breathy chuckle. "I've been so lonely on this damn island... I'm so happy you're here!...." Ezekiel's brows furrowed in worry at Geoff's tone, but that feeling quickly turned to alarm once he took a glance at Geoff's leg.
Noticing Ezekiel's alarm, Geoff spoke up again. "Oh, that.... it's probably nothing... is it getting hot here, or is it just me?... I'm sweating!... heh...." It wasn't hot, Geoff was burning up, he was growing feverish.
"Are the others here?.. Did they remember me?... Please stay with me, you know I hate being alone, Zeke...... " Geoff trailed off as he slipped from consciousness.
------
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The first chapter of my Pat/Pran Hanahaki AU is online! 🌼
This is my first attempt at writing this kind of AU and I'm both excited and slightly TERRIFIED – but you know, in all the good ways. Maybe. Or I'm just an anxious mess and I should stop rambling now.
Show it some love? I'll be waiting 💕
also why is it that i love making pran suffer in my stories i wonder what this tells about me hmmm
Into the Dark and Unknown: Ch 1. Seeking Passage.
Malik finished rocking Donoma to sleep while he read a bedtime story to Revan, watching the boy fall asleep. He kissed his son on the head after he fell into his slumber, and softly made his way to his wife’s side. “All sound asleep.”
Asakonigei was still recovering from the birth of her daughter. Donoma's untimely arrival had really thrown off the Kovina's schedule as well as her ability to bounce back to her usual self. While Asakonigei was annoyed at Doctor Boveir's orders for three weeks of bedrest, she understood why. She nearly died. It frightened her to think she was so close to death, leaving behind her husband and children.
"Thank you," Asakonigei was grateful that Malik had taken most of the daughters concerning their daughter for the last week. She truly did not have the energy. Shifting on the stacked pillows, the Kovina smiled at her husband. "At least she sleeps better than Revan did."
“She sleeps like a Gerudo. Revan takes after you.” Malik lightly jested. He knew he could get away with it in her condition. Carefully, he placed his little girl in between his wife and him.
"Oh, shut up." Asakonigei snorted. "At least I don't snore like a war boar."
“Me? A war boar is more suited to the King. Trust me, I should know.” Malik relaxed, softly kissing Asakonigei’s lips.
"Oh? So should I say you snore like a dragon instead?" Asakonigei smirked. She could jest too, even in this condition. "Definitely fart like one."
“Least you have your humour back.” Malik sighed, thinking how he wanted to stay like this forever. Him by his wife. “You alright holding her? I have some paper work to look over before going to bed.”
"Yes, I'll be fine." Asakonigei gently traced his cheek. "Don't work too late, please? You'll be tired tomorrow if you don't rest."
“You can’t use my stamina for a while. Why worry about it?”
Malik went to office, going through the specially inked documents he needed to address as Lord of Hyrule. Turned out that being the highest rank under the direct Royal Family held more responsibility at times than High General. Grabbing a letter addressed from Al-Daida, he carefully read its contents. His eyebrows raised in alarm. The country was requesting for border security to Omisha. Reports of monsters tearing apart inhabitants. Malik took this most seriously. He often wondered how the most eastern of the continents were like. Did they hold allies? Or enemies? Malik wanted to know the answer himself. Walking back out, he took a seat beside his wife. “Asa?”
Asakonigei jolted awake. She was still a bit on edge since her near death experience. Donoma was still snoozing away, peacefully dreaming. Usually, her husband did not wake her unless it was an important matter. Yawning, the Kovina tried to clear her thoughts.
"Hmm... what is it, Malik?"
“I want your blessing to leave the country to conduct some business for the kingdom.”
"... leave?" Asakonigei looked at him like he had two heads. "Now?"
“Not immediately. But soon.”
"To where?" Asakonigei frowned slightly. "And for how long? You know I hate it when you leave..."
“Omisha. A month at most I hope for travel.”
"WHAT?!" Asakonigei cringed, thinking she'd wake Donoma. But the child still slept. "Are you crazy?! You know the stories that surround that place!?”
“I do not. Besides rumours of monsters. That’s why I wish to go. To learn what relationship Hyrule can have with these eastern countries. What do we truly know of Omisha? Of Malus? Or further beyond? If they are threats, I need to know.”
"Threats that someone else can deal with now, not you!" Asakonigei insisted. "You know as well as I do that monsters exist. Look at Vul'kar! I wouldn't be surprised if there was some kind of demon wandering around those parts!"
“A lord should not but others at risk that he wouldn’t take himself. And was Ganondorf and I not monsters to Lorleidi until you knew us better?”
"You know there's a difference." Asakonigei scowled at him. "This isn't a risk, Malik, it's suicide. You have no guide, no knowledge, and no idea how these creatures fight or they even use magic. You're walking into this situation blind!"
“That is why I will find means of a proper guide. Trust my judgement.”
"I trust your judgement," Asakonigei poked him in the chest. "I don't trust what's out there."
“Then trust my will to live.”
"... you're trying to get me to agree when you know I don't want to."
“I know... but I feel this is something I must do.” Malik lowered his head. “I have my duty to my kingdom. But also, my duty to you. In matters such as these, your word is final. So... what is your command?”
"... I don't want you to go," Asakonigei admitted with a defeated sigh. "But I know why you feel like you should." The Kovina knew how her husband was. He always wanted to keep everyone safe.
“I’ll be safe.”
"... how long will you be gone?"
“A month to two months at most.” Malik gave his wife another kiss. “I will return to you.”
~
“Leere? How are you feeling?”
“Better doctor.”
Leere’s psychologist jotted down her notes. “Have you been finding a hobby like we talked about?”
“Yes. I picked up learning to strum the guitar. It’s been rather peaceful, but...”
“But what?”
“Ever since the removal of one of my marks... I can’t shake questions poking my brain.”
“Questions such as?”
“Who I am.”
“And what do you know about yourself.”
“All I know is that I’m something known as a Mortuus.”
“You’re curious about your origin.”
“And I do not know why. I’ve never cared till recently. It’s maddening...”
“You were adopted into a loving family, but it is not unnaturally to wonder where you come from. These are normal questions to have. Would you like my recommendation?”
It’s why I’m here, is it not? “Yes?”
“Seek the answers that are hidden. Once you have them, you will know where to place your past.”
Leaving the office, Leere took a deep breath. Her next destination was the royal library. She investigated what she could about the eastern countries. The Princess was told information on Malus was nearly non-existent. That geography based, that only the safest way into the country was through the nearly identical country in terms of no information was through Omisha. Frowning, Leere decided to find help.
Her journey brought her to Ralnor’s office. “Brother? Are you here?”
"Come in," Ralnor had papers everywhere and was pacing with a book of trading law in his hand. There was ink smudged on his cheek, and he was sipping tea. The second prince was clearly working hard, but in a chaotic sort of way. "Please mind the mess."
“I see you’re busy, so I’ll be quick. What do you know of Omisha?”
Ralnor stopped pacing and nearly dropped his book at the question.
"... and why does my elder sister wish to know of a place that holds nothing but monsters?"
Leere braced herself because she had a feeling her follow up question would hold a similar reaction. “I heard it’s the safest route into the country of Malus.”
"No, no, no," Ralnor shook a finger. "Al-Daida and the Mabirye Desert border Malus. If you're going to go gallivanting off on another one of your adventures, you can take a Sand Ray across the desert."
“I also researched Malus has an impenetrable mountain that only opens up in Omisha.”
"Good goddesses, Leere, why in the world would you want to go to Malus?" Ralnor set down his book and tea. "I understand that the Mortuus are from there, yet... it's not exactly somewhere that I'd consider visiting."
“I want to learn more about myself. Where I come from.” She had a light smile, cleaning the ink off her brother’s cheek.
"Why don't you just ask your ghost friends? Or better yet, just forget the matter." Ralnor cleared his throat when Leere tried to get the ink off his check. "I am not particularly fond of the idea of you going to such a dangerous place."
“That’s not how necromancy works. And I’ve seen more danger than you have brother.” Leere smiled lightly.
It was then that they heard arguing outside. Malik, wearing his armour from top to bottom, barged in first. Captain Kelly was right behind him, trying to have Malik drop the topic he was about to ask Ralnor.
“Sir! You’re a lord now! You can’t go gallivanting to such a dangerous place!”
“Prince Ralnor. I need your assistance in providing me a guide to Omisha.”
"... the whole castle has gone mad." Ralnor muttered under his breath, rubbing his forehead. "And pray tell, why do you want to go to Omisha?"
“Al-Daida requests troops from Hyrule to assist its border patrols. I wish to investigate myself if such force is required. I also wish to judge for myself if this country is worth our friendship, or our scorn.”
Kelly shook her head. “I have to report you to the Queen.”
Malik snapped his finger immediately at her. “Do that, and you and Tulilad both are fired.”
"Al-Daida?" Ralnor knew of this country from Tebanam's travels. His brother always elaborated on the history there. Not to mention, Faris was the unfortunate victim of the gladiator ring. "You know either way that my brother's wife will find out about this. However, I know from experience if you're insistent upon going, then there is no way I can stop you." The prince sat down at his desk. "As far as a guide, you're out of luck."
Kelly shook her head. “I tried. I’ll take my leave my lord. A good day to you too Prince Ralnor And Princess Leere.”
Malik finally acknowledged Leere was in the room. She held a puzzling look at him. “What?”
“Funny is all. We both have similar goals.”
“You wish to see Omisha?”
“And Malus.”
The Gerudo tilted his head at the woman. Most curious behaviour on her part. “Fascinating. That has been another country I’ve been curious about. Especially ever since members of your race once tried to assassinate the Queen.”
Leere took a seat, knowing better than to ‘fix’ Ralnor’s mess. “Ralnor, what kind of monsters does Omisha hold?”
“I wish to know this as well? Monsters like those of Hyrule, Vul’kar, or even the Calamity?”
"... and why are you looking at me like I'm a monster encyclopedia?" Ralnor asked, feigning innocence. "I've not the slightest idea what you're talking about."
Malik picked up on the sarcasm first. And he was clever enough to know what Ralnor referred to. “No... not him.”
“Not who? Who are-” Leere quickly picked up on it too. Both of them looked at Ralnor, one more annoyed than the other being disgusted.
"It's him or nothing at all." Ralnor then picked up his tea cup and sipped. Loudly. Then he set it back on the dish. "Take your pick."
Malik paced the room. Was this need to investigate Omisha worth risking his life by associating with that monster? Stubborn, a drive burned in Malik. If Klinge wasn’t afraid of that freak, then why should he? “Then he will finally have a use in serving his country.”
Leere watched as Malik left Ralnor’s office to head to the castle’s underground entrance. Oh boy. He wasn’t. Oh god. He was. “Klinge! Wait a second!”
As she walked to pick up her pace, her mind raced at going to see her old pals underneath Hyrule again. It had been at least a year since she saw them all.
"Remember, he serves no one but her." Ralnor decided it was best for him to stay out of this situation. His stress levels were already high enough. Anymore, and he was surely to go gray prematurely. "Good luck!"
“We’ll be careful.” Leere called after him. To be truthful, ever since he became human, Leere found Klinge to be so much more unpredictable.
The two of them made their way to the underground. Malik took a deep breath once he felt the feeling of eyes upon him. “Master of the Hive. Show yourself.”
White and Blue were the ever-faithful scouts. No soul explored the endless catacombs without one of the sisters knowing. This time, however, the sisters were unsure. Leere never brought friends down in the tunnels. She knew better. Exchanging a glance, White slowly descended from the ceiling... and snatched Leere, then zipped back to the top.
"Leere!" The half-spider woman whispered to the princess. "Who has followed you?! Bonegrinder will be most displeased!"
Leere’s instincts were to attack before realizing it was simply the twins. At least White was gentle with her. “Don’t. Scare me like that. It’s just Klinge and I. Well, he goes by Lord Malik now.”
"Sorry, I had to snatch you without him noticing." White then carefully handed the princess to her sister. "And Klinge? You mean the one that Bonegrinder fought? He was undead, don't be silly."
"He smells familiar but..." Blue scrunched her nose. "Different."
“He’s human again.” Leere gave light blush as White pushed her into Blue’s bussom. “Please let me down gently.”
"Aww, do I have to?" Blue nuzzled Leere's neck. "We could always go for another threesome..."
"You did seem to enjoy yourself." White purred at the princess. "Pleasure is addictive."
“I’m here on business. Not pleasure.” Crap, they did feel good though.
“Leere?” Klinge looked around. She wasn’t next to him anymore. Scowling, looked upwards.
“You two need to put me down and ask Bonegrinder to come out before he starts a fight.”
The sisters easily blended into the darkness, but Leere's fair skin made her visible.
"Play later then?" White gave her a deep kiss as he lowered the princess by her web. "I'll do that thing with my tongue you like."
"We'll take you to Bonegrinder." Blue told her, "He has been occupied lately..."
Leere blushed crimson red, a little dazed from the kiss. Did she slip in tongue? “I-I’ll think about it.”
Malik saw Leere descend from the darkness on a web. “I suppose you sought invitation.”
“They like me more.” Leere watched the web move as it was still in her grasp. “Follow me.”
White led Leere by the web, leading her down the maze of endless tunnels. Soon enough, there were people in view. Some were human, others were various species, but all of them were rejects of society. Disabled, mentally or physically, criminals, prostitutes, orphans, or simply those who had nowhere else to go lived in the cocoon of the Hive's operations.
Malik and Leere knew these people both. Leere gave a light smile, while Malik was glad his helmet covered his sadness at seeing the state of the most poor. He wished he could do more for them.
It was only when Malik and Leere were in the heart of the area that White and Blue crawled down from the ceiling. The sisters were massive, but nowhere near the size of the Hive's leader. Both circled around Malik in opposite directions, passing each other a few times, inspecting him.
"Familiar but different."
"Different but familiar."
"Smells like him."
"But is alive, not dead."
“You have the beauty of an angel, yet the disgusting vulgarity of a demon.” He put his arms on his hips, unamused.
“Klinge, be more fair. They’re just stating facts.”
“And I’m not?”
"Tsk, we're not demons, far from it."
"We are Echidnans."
"We are many dwelling in the dark."
"We are the children of Mother."
"We are the descendants."
The way the sisters spoke in unison almost made it appear they shared one mind.
“I know what you are. And I know that you merely speak like that to commit to a bit. We have business with your master. Summon him. Now.”
Leere cleared her throat, almost wishing she done this alone. “I’m sure Bonegrinder is busy, but this wouldn’t be brought to his attention if we felt that it wasn’t necessary of his attention.”
“And trust me, I really don’t want to be here.”
"If you do not wish to be here, then why come here?"
"Contradictory, this one."
"Bonegrinder will see the princess first."
"Ladies first."
"Rude gents must wait."
"Didn't even say please."
"This is why I like women."
"Come, Leere, we will take you to Bonegrinder."
"You stay here, the queen's watchdog.” Blue offered the princess her hand.
Malik looked to Leere. Had he not had a family to go back to, he’d have objected. “Will you be fine?”
“I will. Just... don’t let them get under your skin.” Leere walked with the twins, taking Blue’s hand.
Bonegrinder was occupied... in a way. The giant snake was... sleeping. Soundly. Deeply. And snoring to boot. There were only a few reasons of why he would sleep. The first was after a big battle. The second was a lack of magic. And last but not least, if he had a long, draining vision.
Leere softly placed her hand on his chest. “Bonegrinder? Are you well?”
"He has been having many visions of late." White told Leere as the princess examined her sleeping friend. "He's been exhausted."
"And muttering that silly song about the prophecy over and over." Blue added to her sister's comment. "He swears something big is going to happen soon."
"Yet, we still have no clue how the Mother Goddess is talking to him."
"Or even if it is the Mother Goddess."
"Balance finds her unique way to speak to us all."
"For Bonegrinder, it is either a dream or a nightmare."
"Rambling in a language we do not understand."
"It predates history."
"We hope this will cease soon."
"Even Sheer-Kahn has been worried for him."
“Is he to sleep for a while then?”
"If you'd like to wait, you can sit with him." Blue suggested. "We've been taking turns. Red was supposed to be in here, though something tells me he saw a piece of ass he couldn't resist."
"... wait." White stopped and looked at her sister. "You don't think..."
Then they both cringed.
Meanwhile, Red was trying his best to get Malik to undress.
"You're the finest piece of testosterone I've seen down here in a while." The incubus winked at the Gerudo. "How about you show me that six-pack? I have to inspect everything and everyone that comes down here, so that's the first order of business, handsome."
Malik tolerated the succubi touching his armour up until he reached to pull his helmet off. The Gerudo grabbed the demon’s arm with his robotic hand and squeezed. “Don’t. Even. Think about it.”
With a rough throw, he pushed him away.
Leere eases herself by laying against Bonegrinder. “I’m sure he’ll wake up if I keep contact with him.”
"Oooh, you're the type who likes do to it rough, huh?" Red took to floating around Malik. He rested his chin on his hands, seemingly lying in mid air. "Let me guess, you got a thing for bondage? Spanking?"
"Will you leave him alone?" Blue approached the pair with an exasperated sigh.
"This one is married."
"And your point is?"
"I don't think he'd cheat on his wife with you."
"Oh, but there's a way he can do it without feeling guilty." Red then shifted into an exact copy of Asakonigei and winked at Malik. "See? What's your taste, handsome?" The clothes swapped to leather. "This? Or perhaps this?" Then lace appeared. "Or maybe even this?" Last but not least, spandex covered the incubus.
Malik took out a piece of holy silver, and slapped it against the palm of the succubus. “Leave the image of my wife alone demon. And leave me. Use this to buy yourself a drink.”
"Ow! Stingy, stingy there, muscles." Red shifted back into his usual appearance.
"Stubborn, this one."
"Oh, I could have told you that ages ago."
While Blue and Red were keeping Malik occupied, Bonegrinder started to rouse from his deep slumber. He felt so drained, so tired... when would these visions end? He was not sure if what he saw were memories of another life or the Mother Goddess speaking to him. Sometimes, he swore he heard her voice. It was confusing and only a few pieces made sense to him. Yet, he could never tell the others that. Surely they would think he was crazy... but then again, they already thought that. "Tiny princess..." Bonegrinder smelled her. "This old snake was not expecting your company. If he forgot a previous scheduled date, he apologizes."
“I came to you.” Leere felt content being next to Bonegrinder, like an ex she left on good terms with. Her hand held his, giving him a soft smile. “Are you well?”
"He is tired, Leere, his magic helps him and exhausts him." Bonegrinder shifted his large coils, using his tail to gently stroke her hair. "It has been a while, tiny princess. He trusts you are better?"
“I am. Thank you for your part in helping me with that.” She patted his chest. “I’ve come to ask your help with something. A thing I think only you can do.”
"Oh?" Bonegrinder was curious about this request. Leere was not the type to generally ask for help with a task. He then asked dryly, "This old snake can smell your friend outside, and knows it's him, though he's not undead no longer. Does it pertain to Commander Arsehole?"
“I have my own reasons for what I seek. As it turns out, he has a similar objective. We need passage into Omisha.”
"HAHAHAHA!!!" Bonegrinder laughed at Leere's statement. "Oh, that is a good jest, tiny princess."
Leere frowned, hating when others laughed at her plans. “I’m serious Bonegrinder.”
"... serious?" Bonegrinder stared at her in disbelief. "Tiny princess, forgive this old snake, but passage into Omisha? Whatever for? Mother is not too keen on having humans in her land. You know the stories of what happens to those who trespass."
“I want to see my homeland. I want answers for myself.” She tried to crack a light smile. “There’s no reason to fear Omisha. I mean, if they’re like you, what’s to fear?”
"Trust Bonegrinder, tiny princess, they are all not like him. Some are much worse." He booped her nose with a clawed finger. "And no one goes into Mother's lands without her knowing. Bonegrinder's kind have always been wary of humans. Long ago, they tried to cage us, sell us, make clothes and jewelry out of us. If you are insistent upon doing so, then you will have to pay tribute to Mother. You and the commander."
“Very well. You come with us then.”
"Now that is laughable, you know that the commander is not necessarily fond of Bonegrinder after our fight." The Anagari flicked his tail back and forth. "Didn't like the fact that he could not win."
“I think he’s more cautious with his life now. He won’t pick a fight with you.” She gave his tail tip a grab. “We’re both going, for our own reasons. I’d prefer if I had a friend rather than someone I’m indifferent to by my side.”
"Hmm... Bonegrinder will admit, he does not like this idea of yours. It was more appealing when he had to take your pompous blondie brother." He snorted in amusement. "Mother thought he was pretty and it was funny to see him squirm." He then relented. "If you wish to go, you must know that if Mother reacts poorly to your presence, there is nothing he can do against her. She is strong and ancient, even more so than Bonegrinder."
“I understand. Will you guide us?”
"He will guide you on one condition." Bonegrinder held up a single claw. "You must promise to do what he says, no matter how strange or revolting it may seem. Omisha has different customs than here."
“... I promise.”
"The commander must too, tiny princess. You have to convince him." Bonegrinder slowly rose from his comfortable position, stretching. "He is the one who will cause more strife. And this old snake does not want to inform the wife and little ones that their father died due to sheer stupidity."
“He’s not stupid. Just brash.” Leere shook his hand. “So we have a deal?”
"Brashness is usually due to stupidity." Bonegrinder still appeared hesitant. So he added one more stipulation. "If he says we need to leave. We leave. No objections."
“No objections.”
"Then agreed, tiny princess." Bonegrinder slithered forward, having grown more over the years. "He will need some time to prepare. Until then you are welcome to explore the Hive, yet something tells him that your commander will..." The Anagari snickered when he saw Red pestering Malik. "Will prefer to wait in the castle."
“Very well. We’ll await your word.”
Malik made his way into Bonegrinders chambers, not longer being able to tolerate Red. “Bonegrinder. I’m sure Leere has made you aware of our desire.”
"He has discussed the terms with the tiny princess." The Anagari told Malik as he went in the direction of the underground library where he kept his magical texts. "She will inform you. Shall Bonegrinder have beautiful Blue and White escort you back?"
“I will escort the Princess back myself.”
"Very well." Bonegrinder then told the two of them. "Meet here in three days. He will be ready then."
“As you wish.” Malik gave him a small bow of the head, then extended an arm for the Princess to lead. He’d have his answers of Omisha soon enough.
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Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/190050527306/into-the-dark-and-unknown-ch-2-sweet-mother
