“The flowers were a double edged sword – the knowledge that his soulmate was alive and Ruza wasn’t alone in the world where shadows were heavy and smothering, but knowing something was terribly wrong because they couldn’t be brushed off as tumbles down a hill or the nick of a branch from climbing a tree anymore.”
Read at https://archiveofourown.org/works/25226749
Fandom: Strange the Dreamer/Muse of Nightmares by Laini Taylor
Title: ~he held his breath until his cheeks turned blue~
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 35,696
Summary:
An alternate ending to Muse of Nightmares based on a theory I developed while reading the book. The theory never came true so I wrote it instead!
~*~
But that was the problem with making wishes. Thyon had spent as much energy on wanting to be his own story as he did his own spirit for azoth that he forgot the one rule when it came to wishes. It was understandable that he’d forget this rule, after all. He had left all of Strange’s books back in Zosma, and, with everything going on, with his mind otherwise diverted, he had simply forgot. Thyon would get his wish, there was no doubt about that. He had made a wish, and the universe had listened. But the rules still held regardless.
Me: Thyon Nero is ABSOLUTELY NOT my favorite character. I hated him from the very first book! My favorite character is Lazlo.
"Sure, the whole fandom loves Lazlo. But how do you explain the fact that you could explain EVERY single one of Thyon Nero’s actions, that you annotate every passage in the books where he appears with Ruza, and that you only read fanfic if he’s in it?"
I got bored and wrote a fanfic for a fandom that consists of like six people and a shoelace lol
... ... ...
Ruza found Thyon in the old building he had used as a laboratory. The building itself was mostly left standing after the events of the past few days, as it was deliberately chosen by the Alchemist for being far enough away from the rest of the delegation that it only suffered minor aftershocks. The glass on the windows was shattered, but it still fared less than a good deal of the city.
The room Thyon inhabited was rather a mess, though Ruza was unable to discern how much of the clutter was caused by anxious alchemist and how much by half the city caving in. Thyon himself was currently gingerly picking bits of shattered glass off the floor muttering faintly to himself. Though Thyon had left the door propped open- which Ruza took as a silent display of newfound trust- he had obviously not noticed Ruza, too distracted by his current task. Ruza felt a grin stretch his face as he leaned against the doorway. He had half a mind to simply wait until Nero noticed him, but there were matters to discuss, and Ruza had never received any malinations for his patients so he rapped his knuckles against the door to get Thyons attention.
Thyon startled and the chunk of glass he was holding nearly slipped from his hands, just barely being caught by the very tips of his fingers as his head jerked up. Ruza ignored the twinge in his chest at the way Thyons face shifted from startled surprise to a genuine smile, eyes lighting up as their gazes met. Despite the heat of the room, the longs sleeves of his shirt remained firmly rolled down, pinned primly in place by pearl buttons, but he had forgon his usual waistcoat, and the collar of his shirt was missing cufflinks, allowing Ruza the briefest glimpse of gold-tanned collarbone. His hair was loose and falling in his face in limp curls, made frizzy by the heat. Ruza noticed his hands were still wrapped in the bandages that he had given him, and made note to find new cloth to fix the wrapping later.
“Hello, Ruza.”
Ruza made a show of not staring at the Golden Godson, and instead, made a performatively disdainful sweep of the room. “Goodness Faraigi, you made an awful mess of the space we so graciously gave to you. Is this how you thank your barbarian hosts?” He exaggerated his accent to perpetuate the joke, which caused Thyon to roll his eyes, but not stop smiling.
“The mess is from the earthquake, and I never called you a barbarian Ruza- stop laughing- that was you.”
“Eh, you say it with your face.”
“That’s just my face.” Thyon replied in a fox stern voice. “Judgment cheekbones and whatnot.”
“Whatnot indeed.” Ruza said agreeably then glanced around. “Was all this really caused by…?”
Thyon schooled his face. “Well, glass does tend to break when it falls.” he said in the tone of someone imparting sage advice to a particularly stupid child. It was a deliberate mockery of his old self-importance, and Ruza found his smile widening of its own accord.
“Oh really? Tell me more of your wondrous secrets, oh glorious frangi.”
Thyon snorted in a very undignified manner and Ruza was delighted to get such a sound from him. Thyon prodded him in the arm with an elbow, and he yelped indignantly. “Oh, cut that out.” He cast his gaze around the room and his smile faltered. “And I was trying not to leave the space I was given to use such a mess. It’s not their fault Drave was an imbecile"
“Yes well, you know the old saying.” Ruza grinned like it was an old joke Thyon was already in on. Thyon's eyebrow arched again.
“No, what?” He looked like he already very much regretted asking.
“Exploisenist and earthquakes: they're shit at interior design."
“Oh, people say that, do they?”
“Eh, it sounds better in our language, which you would know if you bothered to learn, fraingi, our language is much…” He trailed off, seeing the mirth had fled from Thyons face and he was left looking rather…
Thyon turned around before Ruza could properly assess his friend's expression, setting down the shard of glass on the workbench with far too much tension in his shoulders. Ruza felt the humor leave him too.
He knew he had a tendency to do this, push a joke until it stops being funny, and though he knew he had right to be pissed at Thyon when he was still acting arrogant and superior, he also knew Thyon felt quite bad about that behavior now and he hadn't meant to poke a wound.
“No, I suppose you're right.” Thyon said, and his voice was carefully neutral. “In anycase, this will most likely take a while.” He turned around, his expression as deliberate as his tone. “How can I help you, Ruza?”
Ruza was not anticipating the sudden shift in conversation, from their playful banter to Thyon's sudden careful and deliberate no-nonsince attitude. Still a little startled by the sudden tension in the room blurted a “What?” before he could think of a witty retort to lighten the mood again.
“What do you need? Why are you here? Or was this a simple social call?” Thyon delivered the last two words with contempt, as if the idea was outrageous.
“Er- yes?”
Thyon seemed unreasonably started at the response. “What?”
“I haven’t seen you in two days, Nero. Someone had to come by and make sure you haven't melted your stupid eyebrow off.”
“I- oh, well.” Thyon tries- and fails- very hard to smother a smile. “My eyebrows remain intact, but thank you for your concern. To be honest, I had thought you too busy to come by- aren't you preparing to leave soon?”
“Yes, and that's exactly why I came! You haven’t been around at all! You’ve come to none of the meetings!”
Thyon frowned “I couldn't imagine what you need me there for.”
“Becase-” Ruza faltered. "Aren't you coming with us?”
Thyon blicked. “I- am I?”
“I thought so! I mean-”
“-I- I… didn’t realize I was invited.”
“I understand if you wouldn't want to.” Ruza said, feeling foolish, “I mean obviously not- you have, everything back home-”
“Oh! No! God no- I would like to! But- I’m not sure I would be… welcomed. Still, thank you Ruza.” He gave Ruza another smile, though this one seemed forced and a little sad.
“What do you mean, ‘not welcome?’”
Thyon grimaced. “I have not done much to… cultivate popularity. I would understand if the others would not be overexcited to be stuck with me for an indefinite period of time.”
Ruza snorted. “Oh, that. Don’t be an idiot. Of course you're welcome.”
Thyon did not look convinced. In fact he looked to Ruza almost offensively dubious. Ruza sighed. “Look, even Calixte was asking after you. No one would be upset if you did come, in fact, some of us would miss you if you didn’t, including me, though only the gods know why.”
“it's up to you, in the end. If you have unavoidable princely duties…”
The pinch in Thyon's brow smoothed slightly, but he still looked… doubtful. Ruza wished he were better at the important words, wished he knew just what to say to reassure Thyon that his company would not be minded and in fact welcomed, but the truth was that he could not speak for everyone.
He knew he would be very disappointed if he never saw the Alcaemist again, and so would Calixte, though she would never admit it. Tazra was always one to defend him, even before their new friendship, and he very much doubted Lazlo would have any objections. But there was always the chance that one of the others, who Ruza did not know and could not speak for, would raise objection to his friends' presents.
Thyon sighed “Not a prince. But I see your point. My father, of course, would be undoubtedly pissed if I never returned.”
“Good. I love pissing off Royalty.”
Thyons smiled partially returned. “I’m going to assume that that was directed at me, and I assure you you're successful in your endeavor. But… If you're sure- I would be honored to come along. I would have to ask, as it really up to Laz- Strange, but-” Thyon’s brow pinched again, and the self-doubt looked so wrong on his face that Ruza decided that something must be done about it immediately.
Ruza grabbed Thyson's wrist "Actually, I’ve decided. You're coming.” Thyon opened his mouth and Ruza tugged him to the door before he could object. “At least on a walk with me. We’re meeting Calixte and Tazra for lunch. You cannot hide in this dusty attic forever.”
Ruza was mildly surprised that Thyon didn’t argue the point and allowed himself to be pulled out the door.
In that moment, Ruza thought that maybe things didn’t have to be so complicated after all.
Korako was there, kneeling in the entrance to the nursery. On her shoulder the white, spectral bird that haunted the streets of...His mouth swallowed around the taste of ash at even the thought of his city's false name. His hands were covered in blood, it streaked across his chest and his face in terrible splashes. Where his sword hung in his hands it dripped to the floor painfully loud amidst the silence. The Citadel had never been this quiet before. Always in some corner there was sound and life and existence.
Now the blue of it was stained red in too many places to count. Viscera and blood from not just the gods but those too who's minds had been too broken to allow to live. They who cried at the discovery of the bodies instead of cheered, they who turned on them with threats and fear and grief. In his chest Eril-Fane felt that same grief try to stir time and time again but his fury kept cutting it back each time. He couldn't afford to let a single thought stray him from his task. He raised his sword, stolen from the collection of the god king, prepared to strike the Goddess of Secrets down when she spoke, her eyes meeting his.
"The children-" She appeared to cut herself off, voice thick with her own unshed tears. "Their talents-" A man makes painful choices.
Eril-Fane's blade swung true and her head rolled into her own pleading and outstretched hands before her body slumped over. When he stepped over her body into the nursery he saw two women, nursemaids, already dead and couldn't decide if Korako had done this or not. She'd not had any blood on her hands or her clothes but that didn't mean she wasn't capable. Already several of the chil- godspawn he corrected himself lay dead in their cots. Now was the time to finish them off.
For Azareen, his beauty, what choice but simple duty? These thoughts consumed his mind but they were not enough to drown out the screams of the terrified and dying children around him. He was not the only one dirtying his hands though. They all had a past to bury in this room.