(ID in alt; description also available below the cut.)
[Image ID: Digital fanart of Paul Strickland from 9-1-1: Lone Star, signed in the bottom left with a 'Dot [flower symbol] s' signature. Paul is wearing his firefighter turnouts; in this rendering, the tri-striped glow strips on the turnouts are in the trans flag colours. The heavy jacket of the uniform is unbuttoned, and Paul is holding one of the flaps in his hand, revealing his navy blue t-shirt and uniform suspenders beneath, as well as a golden heart (drawn in the anatomical style) which glows in the centre of his chest. Its glow radiates out, illuminating Paul's face and torso. /end ID.]
This is a sequel to Luck of Choice, which I wrote back in 2022. I haven't been able to write anything for a long time, so I can't promise continuity of plot or character development, but I find writing fun, so hopefully this is also fun to read. This is set in a shared universe that I write in with @pythagoreanwhump called the VMD, which is a military dictatorship. Contains: references to gunshot wounds, restraints, references to torture (although they are really not explicit). This is quite tame because it's mostly just two characters chatting.
When Gunthor came to, he became aware of three things in quick succession: firstly that he couldn’t move his arms, that one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen was watching him, and that he was in excruciating pain. To say that he had been asleep would have been a mistake. He wasn’t sure how long he had spent drifting in and out of a haze of agony and delirium, but he did not feel at all well-rested.
He must have made a sound because the woman lowered the pamphlet she had been reading and glanced over to where he lay. Gunthor tried to move his hands once more, trying to relieve the pressure on his shoulders, before finally realising that they were tied with rope to a metal pipe. At least the pipe wasn’t hot. He tried to shift himself to find a more comfortable position, but immediately regretted the attempt at movement.
“Oh good, you’re not dead,” the woman observed cheerfully. “Boss would have been annoyed about it, which is silly if you ask me, because she’s the one who didn’t shoot you well enough the first time.”
It took Gunthor’s pain-addled mind a few moments to process what the woman was saying to him. He remembered the ambush, the bullet that pierced his side before he could even comprehend what was happening. Then pain and panic and nightmares he couldn't grasp hold of. Reasonably, he should have been dead. He had heard countless stories of the ruthlessness of the terrorists. If he was alive then that could only mean they wanted something from him…
“I swear,” he had to cough before continuing, his throat dry, “I don’t know anything. I’m just a guard. I didn’t hurt your friends. I just get told where I’m taking them on the day, that’s it.” He tried to take a deep breath to regain some semblance of composure but immediately regretted it.
“They’ll give you a reward if you return me, I’m sure,” he added weakly, though he knew he wasn’t even convincing himself. Who was he to warrant a reward? He’d been promoted from the lowest rung but only because he was trusted to write the rota and do the paperwork correctly. Even at school, he always got points for effort, if not much else.
The woman came to crouch by his side and he instinctively flinched away from her touch, but all she did was gently inspect the bandage over his wound, which had developed a red stain. “Try not to move so much,” she sighed. “You’re going to tear your stitches.”
Something in his confused facial expression must have amused her, because she laughed drily and added, “Don’t worry, Boss says I can’t hurt you more than necessary”. There was no malice in her deep, almost soothing voice. From this angle, Gunthor could get a better look at the pamphlet that she had been holding. ‘No Gods, No Kings: Rejecting Monarchist Influences on Revolutionary Activity’. He hated the former ruler as much as anyone, but why did they have to bring God into this?
“Is it really necessary for you to tie my hands like that?” he ventured, emboldened by the woman’s good humour. “I couldn’t hurt you like this, even if you hadn’t taken all my weapons from me.”
She inspected him, presumably evaluating his capacity to pose her risk in his current state, tying her loose dark curls into a messy sort of bun as though she was readying herself for a fight. His eyes were drawn to the home-made earrings she was wearing: paper-clips onto which she had threaded bullet casings. He couldn’t help wondering if they were the souvenirs of shots fired at her or at by her at his comrades, but he had to admit he couldn’t tell the difference (and of course, half the time, they were the same guns).
“Yeah, alright,” the woman finally shrugged. “I wasn’t sure what you’d be like when you came to, so I thought I’d better be safe than sorry. You know, sometimes, people wake up and they just go for you, no consideration for their own well-being at all, and that’s my own comrades, not even fascists like you.”
Gunthor wanted to argue that he wasn’t a fascist, and that the terrorist propaganda in those pamphlets she was reading was probably giving her the wrong idea completely of state policies, but he became distracted by a spiral of hair that had come loose from her bun. It must have been the dizzying pain in his side combined with the fact that the woman was currently untying his sore wrists, but he had to tamp down the inexplicable urge to tuck the strand behind her ear.
“Don’t fiddle with the cannula okay,” she told him sternly, as he rubbed his aching hands together. “I had to put it in to give you some antibiotics. You know, they’re harder to get than E in this place. Glad you aren’t allergic to them.”
Gunthor didn’t think he was allergic to anything. He was also fairly sure that both antibiotics and oestrogen were easily available in most of the country, to people who weren’t trying to overthrow the government, but he was becoming quite good at keeping his mouth shut. Still, he didn’t know what the terrorists wanted him for, and the potential answers made him uneasy.
“Thank you,” he said reluctantly, resenting that he had to be grateful to regain the use of his hands or to be treated humanely as a prisoner. “I’m Gunthor by the way,” he added, deciding that building rapport with his captors could be helpful to his future survival. Clearly, they had put effort into keeping him alive in the first place. In their place, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have just left an enemy to die. They’d brought it upon themselves in the first place. Had he?
No, he hadn’t done anything wrong. He was just doing his duty, that was all. He never hurt anyone personally. The prisoners he was in charge of had all been like this woman: terrorists who would kill him on sight if they had the chance. They had all been arrested and would stand trial, to answer for their crimes. Of course, they had to be questioned and punished for what they had done.
“You can call me Cassie if you like,” the woman replied. “I let my friends call me Cass but you’re not my friend so don’t get cute.” She sat back down on the wooden chair she had been perched on before, setting her pamphlet down on the table next to her. “Now try to perk up. Alana wants to talk to you and she’s the Boss.”
The summer rain fell gently on the apple branches, creating a soft symphony as droplets danced with the leaves. Lights from heaven pierced through the canopy, casting ethereal shadows on the forest floor. In this tranquil setting, Yuu sat with their back against a sturdy tree, their fingers gently strumming the strings of a weathered guitar. Lilia lay comfortably in Yuu's lap, their eyes closed, basking in the melody and the warmth of the moment.
"Come take my hand," Yuu sang their voice a tender caress that blended seamlessly with the melody. "Let me be in your forest."
Lilia sighed contentedly, feeling the vibrations of Yuu's voice resonate through their being. The words held a nostalgic weight, reminding them of a time long ago when they were entwined in a love that spanned the ages. As the last note lingered in the air, the scene shifted.
Now, it was Lilia's turn to sing, and the forest seemed to respond to the shift in energy. The rain continued its gentle descent, a natural accompaniment to Lilia's haunting voice. Yuu's eyes were closed, lost in the melody, as Lilia began to sing with a voice that carried the weight of memories.
"Sometimes you think loneliness is better than pain," Lilia sang, their voice resonating with a melancholic beauty. "And you sink deeper in your valley."
The words hung in the air, a delicate confession that stirred something within Yuu. Lilia continued, their voice weaving through the branches like a wistful breeze.
"Is this the place to be, in your memory?"
As Lilia sang, the forest seemed to come alive, responding to the emotions embedded in the lyrics. Shadows danced to the rhythm, and the leaves rustled in harmony with the ancient melodies. Lilia's gaze never left Yuu, their heartache and longing pouring into the lyrics.
"No, I never wanna lose you in the forest of the night," Lilia sang, the words a vow whispered to the sleeping figure in their lap. "In vanity’s lair, yearning for the angel calling, hear the lonely prayer ringing through the land of rain, across the thin air."
The atmosphere thickened with emotion as Lilia's voice swirled through the forest, a lament that echoed in the hearts of those who listened. Yuu stirred slightly as if feeling the echoes of the past reverberate through the present. Lilia's eyes softened, and with a tender touch, they brushed a strand of hair away from Yuu's face.
As the song progressed, the forest embraced the duet of voices, becoming an active participant in the emotional exchange. The rain intensified, creating a curtain of silver droplets that shimmered in the moonlight. Lilia's voice reached its crescendo, a desperate plea that seemed to reach beyond the boundaries of time.
"Autumn goes by, combing twilight into my hair," Lilia sang, their voice filled with a sense of longing. "I look back on the passing tenderness."
Yuu's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, they were lost in the depth of Lilia's gaze. The air was charged with emotion as the two souls, bound by a love that transcended lifetimes, connected through the music. Lilia's hand reached out, and Yuu instinctively intertwined their fingers.
"Let me stay by your side, in your memory."
The scene shifted once more, and now it was Lilia lying in Yuu's lap. The roles had reversed, but the intensity of the emotions remained. The forest listened, a silent witness to the continuation of a love story that spanned eternity.
"No, you never gonna find me in the forest of the night," Lilia sang, their voice carrying a quiet determination. "In vanity’s lair, no more holy angel calling, hear my lonely prayer ringing through the land of rain, across the thin air."
Yuu, now awake, looked down at Lilia with a mixture of love and understanding. Lilia's gaze remained fixed on the night sky as if searching for answers among the stars.
"We sing voice to voice, the ancient melodies. I'm calling you," Lilia concluded, their voice fading into a soft hum that lingered in the air. The forest, now shrouded in tranquil silence, seemed to hold its breath as if allowing the emotions to settle.
Yuu, deeply moved by the song, leaned down to press a gentle kiss on Lilia's forehead. The bond between them, woven through the threads of time, was palpable in the quiet exchange. The rain continued its gentle descent, a cleansing shower that seemed to wash away the sorrows of the past.
"No, I never wanna lose you in the forest of the night," Yuu whispered, their voice a tender promise. "In vanity’s lair, yearning for the angel calling, hear the lonely prayer ringing through the land of rain, across the thin air."
"You are so silly," Yuu said, their voice a gentle melody that broke the quiet stillness of the forest.
"Only for you, my dear," Lilia replied with a soft chuckle, leaning in to place a tender kiss on Yuu's nose. The playful exchange between them was a testament to the comfort and familiarity that defined their love, transcending the weight of the song and the memories it carried.
As the two lovers shared a moment of affection, the stars began to emerge in the night sky, twinkling like diamonds against the velvet backdrop. The forest, having played witness to the emotional duet, now stood silent and majestic, embracing the couple in its timeless embrace.
With intertwined fingers, Yuu and Lilia rose from the forest floor, their footsteps light and filled with shared warmth. The canopy above them rustled in approval, and the night creatures, awakened by the song, whispered their blessings to the departing couple.
Hand in hand, they made their way through the moonlit forest, guided by the ethereal glow of fireflies. The song, having fulfilled its purpose, now echoed in their hearts as a cherished memory. The path back was illuminated by the soft glow of the stars, creating a celestial carpet that led them home.
The clearing where they had shared their musical exchange gradually disappeared behind the foliage, and the forest seemed to bid them farewell with a gentle rustle of leaves. The night sky, now fully unveiled, spread out above them like a vast canvas painted with constellations.
Yuu looked up, their eyes reflecting the starlight, and Lilia couldn't help but smile at the wonder reflected in their lover's gaze. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Lilia remarked, his arm draped around Yuu's shoulder.
"Absolutely," Yuu replied, their voice filled with a quiet joy. The love that bound them together felt as infinite as the starry expanse above.
As they emerged from the edge of the forest, the clearing opened up to a breathtaking view of the night sky. The sounds of the forest gradually faded, replaced by the distant murmur of the night. Lilia and Yuu stood together, wrapped in each other's presence, their silhouettes outlined against the starlit horizon.
And so, with the universe as their witness, Yuu and Lilia continued their journey, their love story written in the constellations above. The forest, having shared in the intimate exchange of song and emotion, watched over them as they disappeared into the night, leaving behind the echoes of a melody that would forever linger in the heart of the enchanted woods.
