Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first time Ahad saw Glee, he was certain he wouldn't like her.

She was curly-haired, dark-skinned and tall, and walked a step behind Itempas. Her clothing was very plain--nondescript blouse, patched skirt, scuffed boots--but she carried herself as if she owned the place. Or no, not quite. Extreme confidence, more like. There was something of a fighter in her stance, but he'd bet she wasn't a professional. And there was something familiar about her that he couldn't put his finger on. She wrinkled her nose genteelly and waved the smoke from his cheroot away from her face. Probably had a stick up her ass that was only rivaled in size by the one up Itempas’s.

Her eyes flicked over him, assessing--his posture, his dress, his expression--and checking for weapons. A bodyguard's stare. He couldn't tell what conclusion she came to, which was annoying.

"Who's this, old man?" he asked.

"My name is Glee Shoth," she said.

Oh.

Oh.

"You didn't," he said. Itempas? Break that rule? It was hard to imagine. It was hard to imagine him breaking any rule, in fact. But the living, breathing proof was standing in his office, politely not coughing.

“That’s not what we’re here to discuss,” Itempas said. There was an undercurrent of sharpness in his voice, but he didn’t sound like he regretted having her.

Then again, if he had regretted it, he’d probably have killed her as soon as he knew she existed.

“Then what did you come for?”

“Glee will be acting as my intermediary with the council from now on,” Itempas said. “I won’t visit personally unless I must.”

“Am I that bad? You wound me, truly.”

“No,” Glee said, “The pair of you just never get anything done, I’ve heard.”

Fair enough. “Welcome to the Council,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy the petty interpersonal rivalries and the inability to agree on anything except in times of extreme crisis.”

Glee laughed.

Alright. He liked that.

The first time Glee met Ahad, her opinion of him was exceedingly low. He was tall and lithe, with dark skin and the angular features of a High Norther, and elaborately braided hair. He lounged behind his desk with the air of someone who had a hundred better things to be doing than dealing with them. There were no weapons on him, but that didn't necessarily matter. Godlings could make them, or summon them, /if they needed them. Most didn't. He was strong and vicious, but young.

If she had to, she could fight him long enough to blink herself and her father away.

The office was most tactically advantageous to whoever was behind the desk--the leather chairs were bolted to the floor, as was the heavy wood desk itself, and nothing on the shelves (though it was all very expensive) was heavy enough to be a really good weapon. They’d serve as distractions, nothing more. The windows were small and slatted, set in long rows to give the illusion of being larger, but too narrow to climb or shoot through.

Very nice.

Her father introduced her, and Ahad was appropriately confused by the physical resemblance and then appropriately surprised by her heritage. He jibed at her father whenever he could, but her father had told her that would happen.

What he hadn’t mentioned was that Ahad was funny.

Then again, he didn’t have her sense of humor.

Maybe dealing with Ahad wouldn't be quite as infuriating as it had first seemed.

Chapter Text

"I'm sorry, you want to hire who ?"

"Sieh," Ahad said, "Trust me, I didn't think it was a good idea either, at first."

"Isn't he by his very nature the absolute last person we should even consider?" Glee knew well enough that her eldest brother had not been truly a child for many ages, but he still threw his entire self into being childlike, which was the next best thing. Or worst thing, as it were.

"He's growing up," Ahad said. "He could be...useful."

"What praise," Glee said dryly. "With such a fine recommendation, I suppose I must agree sight unseen." Ahad rolled his eyes at her.

"Hilarious. Will you just have a look? Humor me, here."

"Very well." Ahad wouldn't be saying that if he didn't really think it, and that intrigued her. He called up a servant on the messaging sphere and asked (in less than diplomatic terms) that Sieh be summoned to the office immediately. "We'll test him,” Glee continued, “No more and no less than my first assignment."

"Oh?" Ahad raised a brow. "What kind of test?"

"We need to send someone to Darre, don't we? He will do." The matter of Usein-ennu and her growing rebellion was a sensitive one--but all of their business was sensitive. If he cocked this up, Nemmer would control the damage and they would know he was wrong for the job. Simple.

"I don’t think what we threw you into was quite that sticky,” Ahad said.

Glee snorted. “Oh, yes, it was. You sent me to Uthr in the middle of their civil war.”

“You and I remember that quite differently.”

She laughed. Then Sieh arrived, and it was time to turn their attention to the meeting.

It didn’t long for her to form an opinion of her eldest brother. He was sharp, much less silly than he pretended to being, obviously discomfited by his body (which, to be quite honest, unsettled her, too, only because he should not be like that and she couldn’t figure out why he was), and if he could focus, he would be invaluable. Ahad was right. But it was always best to have alternate points of view, so she went in search of Marjolaine, the half-Maro woman who was Ahad’s right hand when it came to the running of the Arms. She found her in the hall outside the kitchens.

"What do you think of Sieh?" she asked. The housekeeper tapped one impeccable red nail against her chin.

"Older than he looks. More dangerous than he seems. Probably untrustworthy. Could definitely make a good living here, if he wanted to, but he doesn't."

"Thank you," Glee said. Marjolaine had a good eye for this sort of thing. Then, because it had been too long since she’d stopped in for enough time to see her other friend here, "How is Wei?"

"Wei is fine," said the woman in question from behind her. Glee turned, smiling. Wei stood on the stairs, wrapped in a long black robe, her dark hair caught back in a tail. She was a handsome olive-skinned woman of about thirty with a spidery darkwalker tattoo across her left cheek--a far cry from the scrawny teenager Glee had helped find work in the kitchen of the Arms. "Look at you," Wei said, "Not a second older." They didn't embrace--Wei preferred not to hug. Instead, they clasped hands.

"Maroneh women look thirty until we're seventy, you know that." None of the staff knew she wasn't human. A few suspected she was a godling. And those like Wei, who had been smart enough to ask their divine coworkers, had been told she wasn't, and were further smart enough to let the matter rest beyond a few jokes.

“Is the business treating you well?”

“Never better. Where have you been, all this time?”

“Here and there,” Glee said, and then added, truthfully, “Also on family business.”

“Ah, the plot thickens. You have relatives. Here I thought you’d sprung fully formed from the gods’ realms to rescue little street urchins and make my boss smile.”

“Alas, no.” Both women laughed.

“Don’t tell me you have to go running off again,” Wei said, “I don’t see nearly enough of you.”

“As it happens, I’m not immediately needed anywhere,” Glee said. Which wasn’t quite true, but could be made so very easily. “Are you busy?”

“I’m in between bookings at the moment,” Wei said, “Not a busy time of the day, after all. Thought I’d stop down here for a bite.”

“Well,” Glee said, “What do you say to lunch?”

“I say give me five minutes, because I’m not leaving the premises dressed like this.” Wei flashed her a rare grin and turned on her heel.

Chapter Text

It's not, really, that he wants to sleep with her. That used to be it, years ago. He handled it then, he's handling it now--physical lust is simple, especially when the offending parts aren't integral to one's anatomy. It's that he finds himself looking forward to her visits and being unhappy when she has to leave and arranging one-on-one meetings that, strictly speaking, could probably include Nemmer. He makes jokes to hear her laugh and to hear her joke back.

It is maddening.

But he can’t bring himself to stop it. Oh, he’ll make token efforts to try--but if he really meant to follow through, he would stop seeing her privately, stop letting his fingers brush hers when he hands her something, stop trusting her with things he usually only trusts himself with.

All of those are things he likes too much, and he’s still a bit of a hedonist, at heart. (Or a lot of a hedonist. The point still stands.)

He’s not quite sure what it is that he wants. All he’s sure of is that he wants it very much, and whatever it is includes the way Glee smiles at him sometimes, and that it is almost certain to crash and burn.

--

Glee thinks it’s only that he has a pretty face, at first.

She’s wrong.

Pretty faces have never turned her head, anyway. Especially not on godlings, who can be as pleasant or not as they choose. It’s everything else that she cares about.

(Not that she doesn’t find him physically attractive, because she most definitely does.)

He interests her. She likes his sense of humor, and it’s always so much easier to plan things with him than without--two heads are always better than one, and they think much the same way.

And he’s a good kisser, though she won’t be admitting that any time soon.

She wants him, she knows that. On his own terms, when he makes a move. Which may well be never--she’s misread people before. And godlings are tricky, especially when they have also been Arameri. (She doesn’t think she’s misread him, though. Not with the way his fingers ghost across her wrist sometimes, not with the way he looks at her when he thinks she can’t see, or the way he looks at her when he knows she’s looking back.)

Glee is a patient woman, and she knows how to handle rejection.

Chapter Text

It was the end of a routine meeting--she had come to speak with him in person, even though they both knew it would have been just as convenient for her to use a messaging sphere, and as she left, he’d gotten closer to her than was strictly necessary, and then--

Then the equilibrium broke and he tangled a hand in her hair and she gripped his shoulders and they were kissing. His mouth was soft and he was careful, so careful, as he always was. For an instant, his nature broke through--it tasted heavy and dark and warm in her mind and on her tongue, and the want crashed over her--and then he pulled back. Both of them were breathing hard.

“We can’t keep doing this,” she said at last, stepping back. His jaw tightened. He was letting her see it on purpose, she knew. If she’d been anyone else, he wouldn’t have done that--but then, if she’d been anyone else, they wouldn’t be having this argument, if argument was the right word for it.

“I think it was my turn to say that.” It was a joke, but it sounded forced.

“I’m serious.” Glee toyed with the little jade cat on the desk. She’d brought it to him from Uthr, fifty years back. The back of its head was shiny from rubbing. “It’s not fair to either of us. Either we need to stop playing entirely, or--”

Ahad caught her gaze and held it. For an uncomfortably long moment, they were both silent. “Or what?”

“Or it needs to stop being a game, Ahad. Both of us are worth more than that.” It was a relief to have said it, finally, that she didn’t want just this. That neither of them deserved just this. That there was...more to whatever it was they had. Or could be, if they wanted.

He looked away from her. “Right. Because we’re so suited for it.”

"What exactly makes us unsuited for it?" She forced the sharp edge out of her voice. There was no reason to be angry with him.

“Well, why don’t we start with the fact I was halfway to being head of the Arameri not so long ago, and continue from there? Don’t tell me you don’t care about that.”

She knew about that. She also knew that she would never find out about half the things he’d done to get in that position. “I won’t. But I see all of you, and I want all of you, regardless.”

“Everything?” He laughed. There was no humor in it. “You don’t mean that.”

“I know exactly what I mean.” She wanted, so badly, to hold him, but knew that right now, touching him wouldn’t help in the slightest.

He sighed. “You really do.”

“I don’t lie to you,” Glee said gently. “You know that.”

He reached out, took her hand again. She let him. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. After a moment, he said, “Glee. I have two thousand-odd years of experience telling me I can’t trust anyone. But I trust you. It’s a problem.”

The only replies she could think of were trite and useless--worse than useless, they’d make things worse. So she stayed silent, let him hold her hand and go on at his own pace. Eventually, he said, “And I--I am--hells. I’m afraid. ” His voice was tight, and he steadfastly kept his eyes off her face.

Quietly, she asked, “Of what?”

“Good question.” Ahad huffed a sigh. “I’m not sure I know.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “Caring is a messy business. I don’t know how you manage it.”

“Practice,” Glee said. “Though I suppose I had a head start.”

“That you did.” They were silent for a long, tense moment. Then he added, “I...want to try. There are some things I can’t do--”

“If I wanted easy,” Glee said gently, “I would be downstairs booking an appointment.”

Ahad snorted. “Fair enough.”

After a moment, he leaned up and kissed her again. This time, it was much slower--there was less desperate need to get in as much of it as they could before they both grew the good sense to stop--and warmer. She let her nature spill into it, and felt him grin into her mouth. His hand slid up under the back of her shirt, and then the both of them paused and drew back.

“If this is going where it appears to be,” Glee said, “We should discuss what it is you can’t do.”

He told her. Then they began again, and somewhere around the point where the edge of the desk was digging into her hips she pointed out that a bed was much better suited to this sort of thing, and he emphatically agreed. And soon after that, they weren’t talking much at alll

After, they lay tangled together under the blankets, Glee half-dozing, Ahad with his head tucked into the crook of her neck. He listened to the steady sound of her breathing, the thump of her heart. He was...

Safe. Happy. How about that. He turned the feelings over in his mind, considering the weight of them. They weren’t strange, exactly, but he also wasn’t used to it, and he felt odd--not bad, but as if something had changed. Exactly what was not something he could pinpoint, which irritated him, though not as much as it might have if Glee hadn’t been beside him with her leg hooked between his and her arm around his shoulders.

Her messaging sphere went off.

Whichever demonshitting moron was calling had better have a good reason.

“Damn,” Glee said. She sat up and answered it. Ahad couldn’t hear whoever was on the other end--the spheres were inconvenient that way--but he could hear her responses. From the way she was talking, it was work.

She hung up. “It was my father,” she said.

Ahad snorted. Of course it was. The old man had a knack for sticking his nose in when it was least wanted. “Figures.”

“I can think of several worse times he could have called.” True. She grinned and leaned over to kiss him. This time it was a mortal kiss, but no less good for that. "I'm needed," she murmured, pulling back.

"Of course you are.”

She got up, stretched. He watched, drinking in the sight of her, the long lines of her body, the jagged scar on her back, the spiral tattoo on her hip (he remembered how it had felt to kiss it, how well his hands had fitted her waist). Then she turned and cocked her head at the bathroom. “Do you mind if I--”

He waved a hand. “My home is your home.” The words were meant to be flippant, but he found himself considering what it would be like if Glee did live with him. Of course, the old man would visit--but hell, it wouldn’t be so hard to avoid him.

And that was enough of that particular train of thought. Too soon. He rolled out of bed and found his pants. Glee wasn’t the only one who had things to do--he was sure Nemmer or Marjolaine or even Sieh had something he ought to look over or deal with. Or something. The bathroom door clicked, and after a moment he heard the sound of the tub filling. While she bathed, he re-braided his hair, tugged on a shirt, and made himself presentable. Then he picked Glee’s things up off the floor and slung them over the back of a chair, because he might as well.

She came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and dressed quickly. As she took her sphere and tucked it into her skirt pocket, he said, "Glee?"

"Hm?"

"I--" He thought of several phrases, each more stilted-sounding and ridiculous than the last, and ended with, “It’s not a problem.” She smiled--it was the one she wore when she was equally surprised and pleased, wide and unguarded.

“Not for me, either,” she said. “I’ll call your sphere later.”

She vanished.

Her flower was still on the dresser.

Chapter Text

It was hard to believe that the jumbled pile of daystone rubble had once been Sky.

But then, it was hard to believe that the splintered mass of wood had once been the Tree.

They had come here because, at the moment, there was nothing they could do but wait. It was maddening, but true. Everyone who had remained--Kitr had left, something that had honestly surprised him ("I've never known the knife to run from battle," Glee had said, and Kitr had laughed bitterly and told her, "This won't be battle. It will be a slaughter.") as had Nemmer, something which had not--had done what they could already. Lil had moved most of her children out of the city, reasoning that it was best they not be at the epicenter when the Maelstrom struck. Visiting what was left of the Arameri's ancient center of power was better than simply waiting. He wanted the satisfaction of seeing it fallen. They blinked into the clearest area of it, an adjective that simply meant that the chunks of rubble were bigger and more widely spaced, and that there wasn’t much Tree wood.

It was large enough to have been either the grand ballroom or the audience chamber. Neither was something he had seen much of. Nahadoth had been the one Arameri trotted out like a prized warhound; he they had preferred to keep behind closed doors. Away from the public. They did, after all, have an image to maintain, even if very few people believed it. The memories threatened to well up; he took a deep, steady breath and held it. Remember that they have no power over you anymore. Remember that this place fell because they’re losing control. Remember how many of them died here. Remember how much it must have hurt. Beside him, Glee offered her hand. (He was grateful that she didn’t simply touch him. At times like this, he needed the choice more than anything.) He took it.

“I suppose it was more impressive when it stood,” Glee said.

“The old man never brought you here?” Her father was--perhaps ashamed wasn’t the right word, but he did not consider Sky a symbol of his finest moments. Ahad had thought he would show his daughter anyway, simply to make sure her education was thorough.

“Considering what happened with my mother? He didn't think it was wise, and I agreed." True. Someone like her would have been an unimaginable prize for the Arameri. The New Lights had had to bleed her mother for hours; a few drops from Glee could kick off another Gods’ War. “I don’t think I’m incredibly deprived for having missed it.”

Ahad laughed. “You’re not.” He considered briefly a list of things he could do to desecrate the grave of Sky, discarded all of them as too much like Sieh or just too stupid, and decided a smoke would do. A nearby pile of rubble made a comfortable enough chair. Glee clambered up behind him and stretched out, and he leaned back against her chest. She smelled of hiras flowers. Despite their location and the looming presence of the Maelstrom, he felt safe.

Sentimental stupidity. None of them were safe. Both of them were probably going to die, in fact, because neither of them was going somewhere safe. She couldn’t--for all her power, her body was a real body and wouldn’t survive in the gods’ realms, and he--

Well, he wasn’t going to leave her here. More sentimental stupidity, but the kind he wasn’t going to avoid. There were a lot of things he could live with having done. Running out on her with that pointed at the planet was not one of them.

Ahad sighed and lit his cheroot.

“We have company,” Glee said, stroking his hair. He could hear them--Sieh and that Arameri boy of his, on horses. A few days back, he’d have moved. A few days back, he’d never have done this at all.

“I know,” Ahad replied. “Don’t feel like getting up.”

He couldn’t see it, but he knew that she was smiling.

Chapter Text

Everything in Glee cried out against Kahl.

He burned her senses, churned her stomach--his very presence rent the fabric of the world. That mask twisted everything. And he dared, he dared to come against her kin, to try to replace her father? To bring the Maelstrom here, to this fragile little planet full of people who couldn't run?

"What do you want?" Kahl Avenger asked.  

"/ To kill you. " She brought every drop of her power to bear, everything she had, and felt the flames blaze up around her as the world responded. Ahad cried out--she spared a thought of apology for him, and then no more, for the Sword of Order demanded her full attention. It was not heavy in her hands, but perfectly balanced, and it hummed.

“Control,” her father said, “Remember, Glee, or the power will destroy you.”

“I will remember,” she said, and then turned her attention from him as well. She had only one goal.

Glee lunged forward. The world warped. Up , she thought, and the other Two heard her and they were gone, hurtling upwards to the edge of the planet’s air. This was not what it should be, not the seamless synergy of the Three, but it would have to serve.

Yeine and Nahadoth formed a shell around them. The air was full of the smell of rotting flowers, and there was a pervasive hum, but Glee ignored it. She had one focus and one alone.

For a millisecond, perhaps two, they circled each other. Then Glee saw her opening and struck. Kahl blocked her, she disengaged and struck again, slicing open his arm. He flung his burning blood at her face and lashed out at the shell surrounding them. It shook, but did not break. Glee swung at him again. He knocked the Sword aside. On and on it went, for what seemed like forever but could only be minutes. Strike and block and strike again, until--

She slipped. Kahl slammed a blade of power through her shoulder and the shock of it ripped control of the Sword from her. It rippled and vanished. She reached for it. The hilt shimmered between in her hand but didn't form. Once. Twice. Three times. Nothing solid.

He grabbed her and pulled her close, sunk his fingers deep into her neck. “It was a good effort, cousin,” he whispered, “But you die here.”

Just once more, she called the Sword. It flared into being between in her hand, and before he could react, she executed a stop-thrust, straight through his belly. Kahl howled and flung her away from him. She crashed through the shield.

Glee fell.

From the rubble of Sky, Ahad saw her fall. Saw her flicker out.

No. No.

Not Glee.

Someone screamed (dimly, he realized it was him.) Power flooded him. Momentarily, he lost control of his form, and then he flung himself through reality towards her trajectory, hoping only that he was fast enough.

( So you’ve found your nature, Sieh had said, and he’d had no idea what the idiot was talking about then. Now he did. How in the hells he’d ended up with love, he had no idea. Someone somewhere was probably laughing. But he had what he needed and he was feeding his nature with everything he had and he would not let her die.)

He caught her.

She wasn’t breathing, and he felt her limbs shift in places that no mortal’s should. He could keep her from dying, but not for long. There had to be a healer in the city, somewhere. Godlings of that nature were always too good-hearted to leave when something this terrible happened. Was still happening. Not that he much cared or could do anything to affect at the moment.

It was easy as blinking to reach out and find one, and easier than that to fold reality around them and appear. “Keep her alive,” he snapped.

    The godling took one look at him--bleeding power everywhere, barely in control of his face--and said, “Yes.”

    He had better sense than to hover, but he did not leave. Not even when he felt the Maelstrom go and realized Sieh was gone.

Chapter Text

At first, there was nothing.

Then the nothing resolved itself, becoming a long, lazy river lined by water lilies the size of houses. Glee found herself in a narrow gondola manned by Kitr, and did not question it.  She was dreaming, after all. Beside her was Ahad, hair hanging loose around his face.

"Never took you two for lovebirds," Kitr said. Her voice was tinny and faint. It was something she'd already said, though not about them. She'd been speaking of Marjolaine and Wei.

Ahad said nothing, which Glee did find strange--but this was a dream. It wasn't him.

Or something like it. She did not normally know she was dreaming. Oddly, she didn't remember going to sleep. She felt her mind shy away from the topic.

Suspicious. Had she been drugged? Knocked unconscious? Spelled asleep? "Nsa," she said softly, "Hear my prayer. I have need of you, cousin."

"I'm here," Ahad said in Nsa's voice. "What is it, Glee?"

"Take your own face," she said. He obliged. "Why am I asleep?"

"You drained yourself, child," Nsa said. "Used up everything you had and then some. It's a miracle you didn't chop your lifespan in half."

"Doing what?"

But even as she asked, it came back to her in flashes.

Brightness, heat, pieces of moon flashing by, smell of rotting flowers

black hole hum

tear in the world

Too much to consider directly without hurting herself. No wonder her mind hadn't let her think about it at first. That kind of power was too much for any mortal, even one as strong as her.

"Since I'm here to be dreaming, I assume we won?"

"Not without cost." Nsa's face grew shadowed.

"It's never without cost. Is--"

"Very few godlings were lost. More mortals, but I believe the ones you know best are still alive." He sighed. "I would prefer someone else give you the news. When you're awake. You'll forget whatever I tell you, anyways."

"Thank you." She put a hand on his harm. "I'm sorry, cousin."

He smiled thinly. "You're a good woman, for death on two legs. Dream well."

In the topmost room of the new Arms of Night, Glee Shoth slept. Shahar Arameri had offered space at Echo--Ahad had turned her down. Yeine might have created it, but that didn't make it safe. And, though the Arms was still struggling to find its feet, he could take better care of Glee here.

She looked much smaller than she really was, wrapped in blankets, her eyes closed, her face purpled with bruises. Her breathing was even and steady, and nothing that happened around could draw a response.

Ahad hadn't left her side since the bonebenders had cleared off.

It had taken the two of them, both godlings, a day to stabilize her, and two days after that to get her back to something resembling human. They said it was too dangerous to pull her out of the coma, and that she'd need near-constant care until she woke.

He could give her that. Marjolaine had the new Arms under control--at the moment, it was half refugee camp and half clinic, and full to bursting. She didn't need his help on a practical level, and he trusted no one else to look after Glee.

The door creaked open, and Wei entered and set a tray down on the bedside table. "I brought you tea," she said.

"I don't need--"

"Yes, you do."

"Don't interrupt me."

Wei folded her arms. "Just because you can run on damn-all doesn't mean it's smart ," she said. "Also, Marjolaine will worry."

"You have absolutely no sense of subtlety," he said, taking a cup.

Wei shrugged. "Don't need one, don't want one. How's she doing?"

"No change. She's..." Ahad shrugged. "Gone deep."

"Be weird if she wasn't." Gently, Wei tucked a stray curl back into Glee's headscarf and leaned down. "Hurry back," she said quietly. Out of politeness, Ahad pretended he couldn’t hear her.

Wei straightened, smoothed her skirts. “I need to go back downstairs,” she said.

“If you need me, you know where to find me.”

She nodded. “Be seeing you.”

It was a long year. The world was in chaos--there were some who said the Bright was coming to an end. Half a dozen little wars began and ended. The Aeternat organized itself--or attempted to, anyway. The city of Echo grew and grew, built by godlings and mortals combined. Life slowly returned to normal.

At the end of it, Glee Shoth awoke.

Chapter Text

She woke slowly, drifting upwards from sleep. First she was conscious of being warm, then of sound around her. A woman, moving--Marjolaine, Wei's step was less graceful and Kitr's was heavier, and Lil or Nemmer she would not hear at all. The woman put something down on a table.

Carefully, Glee cracked open her eyes. The light was so bright that everything was whited out. She winced and turned her face into the pillow.

"Lady Glee?" Definitely Marjolaine. "Can you hear me?"

Glee nodded, wincing as the muscles in her neck protested. "How long--" Her voice was a croak, barely intelligible. Her tongue felt heavy and thick. She cleared her throat and tried again. "How long was I--"

"A year," Marjolaine said, "And a bit. Don't try to talk again. Here's some water." A year. A /year/. How much had she missed? Something cool and metal touched her lips. Glee opened her mouth and drank. It was lukewarm, but still heavenly. She hadn’t realized she was so thirsty.

Wait.

Something was wrong.

She should have been able to feel that there was someone by her bedside, and she couldn’t. At all. She knew Marjolaine was there, but it was only with her mortal senses. Inside of her, where her power should have been, was--nothing.

Dear gods, she’d used everything but her life up.

Marjolaine said, “She’s awake,” into what Glee assumed was a messaging sphere. She should have felt that, too. The door opened and shut again--Marjolaine leaving. There was a creak, and Ahad said, “Glee?” There was a curiously soft quality to his voice.

He sat on the edge of the bed, and, after a moment, he took her hand. She squeezed it, though not much. Weak as a kitten. “I feel terrible,” she said hoarsely.

“You look it,” he said. “It’s...good to have you back.”

“What did I miss?”

“Oh, not much. The old man’s been reinstated, the Arameri handed control of the world over to the Aeternat--”

She raised her eyebrows. The Arameri, take leave of their power?

“Mostly. They still have a representative on the council. It’s one of those twins Sieh liked so much.” On the word /Sieh, his voice wavered. Just slightly, but she knew that it was something he wouldn’t have let anyone else hear.

“And what happened to my oldest brother?”

“Chewed up by the Maelstrom,” Ahad said. “Along with that /other brat he liked. That’s why we aren’t all little floating shreds of flesh.” For a moment, he went silent. Then he added, “It’s one thing he got right.”

“I’m sorry,” Glee said quietly. Ahad had cared for him. They hadn’t been on good terms, but she knew he wasn’t glad to see Sieh dead. As for herself--well, she hadn’t known him very well. She wished she had. He’d been irresponsible and selfish and childish, but such was his nature, and she knew she could have loved him, if they’d had the time.

He’d done well.

“Better him than us,” Ahad said, but it lacked venom. He cleared his throat. “Most of my employees are fine. Shadow’s casualties were low. Nemmer got hit by a reality warp, but she’ll be fine. Eventually.” There was vicious satisfaction in his voice. “Can’t say the same about anyone else, unfortunately.”

“So the council has reformed?”

“After a fashion.” He smoothed her hair. “You know you don’t have to worry about this. You should just rest.”

“I spent an entire year resting,” Glee pointed out.

“And now you can’t even open your eyes.”

Well, he had a point there. It was touching that he’d made it all. “I concede,” she said. “Is there anything to eat?” She didn’t feel particularly hungry, but it was best that she get something in her stomach.

“There’s soup,” Ahad said. “Chicken.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

He fed her. It was a bit awkward, at first--she kept spilling on herself, which would have been humiliating had it happened in front of anyone but Ahad. As it was, it was only annoying. Afterwards, he helped her to the bathing room, which would also have been embarrassing if it wasn’t him doing it.

Comas were messy, and she hated them.

After she got back into the bed (despite her wishes, she definitely wasn’t strong enough to sit up yet), they talked. Or rather, he talked to her; she tired herself out too much to respond before long. When she began to nod off, she asked him to hold her--she'd had enough of being alone.

That was awkward, too. But then she settled her head against his chest, and he got an arm under her, and it was the easiest thing in the world to fall asleep.

It was days before she could get her eyes open and keep them that way, and weeks before she could walk properly. Ahad, Marjolaine, and Wei were constants--mostly Ahad, for the other two had livings to earn. Lil dropped by, Nemmer did not. Eyem-Sutah sent her a beautifully carved piece of Tree wood as an apology and a get-well gift. Kitr came once, to say, "I'm impressed".

None of the Three came at all. It was expected, of course. Ahad had told her they'd decided to withdraw, to keep anything else drastic from happening.

But she wanted her father to come. She missed him. And, if she was going to be honest with herself, she also wanted him to tell her she'd done well. Glee briefly contemplated and then discarded the idea of praying to him. Just because she wanted to see him was no reason to start doing /that. She was his daughter, not some postulant, and besides, he hated being bothered. He'd visit her when he was ready. If he ever was.

Once she'd regained enough strength to get up and down the hall, she called her mother.

"Glee?" There was a controlled undercurrent of worry to Desola's voice. "Lil told me you were in a coma."

"I was," she said, "I...drained myself. How is everything?"

"Oh, well enough," said Desola. “A few things broke in the storm. That’s not important. You--you could have died.”

“Mother, no one knows that more than I,” she said. “We didn’t have many options.”

“You know I understand that.” Glee did. Her memories of her mother’s tale were fuzzy at best, but she’d had the gaps filled in by both of her parents later, and she knew well enough how much power her mother had spent. She’d just been much more dramatic about it than her mother ever had, because her stakes had been higher. “But you are my daughter, and I worry about you.”

“I know that, too,” Glee said softly. Quite suddenly, she wished she could actually see Desola. It had been so long, and the child in her wanted to run home and rest safe in her mother’s arms. She hadn’t fit there for more than eighty years, but still, she wanted it. So sharply that it hurt.

“Are you staying in Echo to recover?” Oree asked after a moment. Glee considered. She could, certainly. Stay here, watch the Arameri and the new Aeternat carefully, keep the Council on an even keel. Her father no longer led it--that would surely lead to some upheaval.

But the thought made her feel so /tired. Corralling them, in the wake of the Maelstrom, with everyone upset and at odds with each other, and the divine power struggles that were sure to overrun things--she wanted nothing to do with it. Any of it. It was selfish, she knew it was selfish, and she had spent decades wanting the exact opposite of out.

Now she only wanted more time to rest.

Had she not done enough? Had she not given all she had and then more? Didn’t she deserve to let someone else do it by now? So many demons had lived their days in peace.

All of them had not had Itempas for a father. Her power obligated her to do things with it.

But she had already done so much.

“I haven’t decided yet,” she said. It was true enough.

The conversation turned to other things, and eventually she hung up because she was falling asleep.

Later, curled in Ahad’s arms, she said, “I think I’d like to go home.”

“To your mother’s house?” His voice was neutral, though not in the way that meant he didn’t like the idea but didn't feel like admitting it, nor in the carefully studied way that meant he was trying to act as though he didn’t have an opinion at all. Just in the way that meant he hadn't decided what he thought yet.

“Mmhm. I’ve been thinking--she’s old, now, and she needs help around the house, and I--” Glee sighed. “Is it selfish, to want to leave this? Or--not leave entirely, just gain some distance?”

“Are we working on the assumption that selfishness is a bad thing?”

“I am serious, Ahad.”

He shifted to look her in the eyes. “Then yes, it is selfish. But you deserve it. I think nearly dying for the sake of the entire world entitles you to a quiet retirement, don’t you?”

“It certainly doesn't feel that way,” Glee said.

"Well, you're not always right, you know."

"/Ahad."

"I'm completely serious. You deserve a rest. Have one. Besides, it doesn't have to be forever."

He was right. On both counts. "When do you want to go?" he asked.

"As soon as I can. Next year, if I can manage it."

"How does now sound?"

Now?" She raised an eyebrow. "I can't even care for myself right now."

"I'll come with you," he said.

He'd what? He hated her mother. Not nearly as much as he hated her father, but still. "You, live in the same house as my mother?" Glee asked.

"Oh, have a little faith," he said, mock-offended. "She and I are both adults with manners. Some of us more so, obviously, but I think we can handle living in the same house.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” Glee said. "Why--"

"I've had an entire year to think about the things I want out of life," Ahad said. "Staying with you is one of them." It was good, to hear him say that.

"I'll call her tomorrow, then."

To her surprise, her mother was more shocked by the idea than opposed to it. Of course, her mother also disapproved mightily--nothing could have changed /that--but she was pleased that Glee would be able to come home so soon.

She packed her things. Ahad packed his, and prepared the Arms of Night for his departure. Marjolaine was displeased at being given the reins, but everyone knew she could handle it, especially with Nemmer backing her.

Just before they left, Wei surprised her in her room. “This is for you,” she said, sticking out her hand. She held a bracelet--blonde wooden beads, carved into small roses. “I made it, and I thought you might like it.”

Glee took it and rubbed a finger over a bead. “It’s wonderfully made,” she said. “Thank you.” The corners of Wei’s mouth curved up. Coming from her, that was beaming.

“It’ll be weird,” Wei went on, “Not having the pair of you around.” Which she knew she ought to take to mean, /we’re all going to miss you. “Who’s going to yell at Lady Kitr if she blows out the windows again?”

“I’m sure you can handle that,” Glee said, clasping the bracelet around her wrist.

“Who’s going to yell at her and make it /stick?”

“Fair point. Lil, perhaps, if she feels like it. Or Nemmer.” Wei made a face. She was a private person, and had never liked the idea of Nemmer at all.

“I suppose I’ll see you at the next equinox?”

“Yes.” Glee clasped her hand, briefly, and went downstairs.

Marjolaine was folding a small package into Ahad’s hand. He actually smiled at her as he tucked it into his bag.

“Goodbye, Lady Shoth,” Marjolaine said. “My best hopes for your recovery.”

“Goodbye,” Glee said, “And good luck.” Marjolaine laughed.

Ahad slid an arm around her waist. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

They vanished.

Chapter Text

It was autumn, and the sleepy town of Kamn was getting itself ready for a long winter. At the house of Desola Warra, a young man named Kavi was stocking wood, because she was an old woman and a friend of his mother's, and also because she'd promised him money for it, and he wanted to buy something nice for the handsome young schoolteacher he'd been stepping out with.

He was utterly unprepared for two people to suddenly appear out of nowhere.

They popped back into existence on her mother’s front porch, and Glee started in the sudden cold. She wasn't used to feeling it. Ahad's arm tightened on her waist. "I'm not made of glass," she murmured.

"I know. Who's that?"

She turned her head, frowning. She /hated that she could no longer tell when someone was there without seeing them. "Oh. It's only Kavi. He lives down the street." The boy in question was gawping at her as if she'd grown an extra head--but then, she'd taken pains to keep this side of her life out of Kamn. Not to mention that he’d last seen her when he was eight, and he was now twenty, and she looked no different.

Word would have got about, anyway. She’d planned for it; she intended to live here for years and hiding her nature and Ahad’s would have been more trouble than it was worth.

"Go home, boy," Ahad said. Kavi looked terrified, just by the fact that a godling was speaking to him.

“It’s alright, Kavi,” Glee said, “Go on.”

“But Eru Warra--I promised I”d--”

“Whatever it is, you can do it tomorrow,” she said firmly, “Right now this house needs space.” He nodded, bowed jerkily to Ahad, and then bolted. Glee watched him go, then raised her hand to knock.

The door swung open before she could. Her mother stood there. Out of long habit, Glee tried to put out enough power to make herself visible, and hissed in pain as she came up dry. "Are you alright?" Desola asked.

"I'm fine," Glee said. "It's good to see you."

Desola held out her arms, and Glee fell into them. She buried her face in her mother's shoulder, breathing in the smell of hair oil and clean linen--the smell of home. It had been far too long since she'd been back. There had just been so much to do, with her father and the dimmers and the thousand brewing wars, and she hadn't found the time. She should have.

"It's good to have you home," Desola said. Her arms tightened about her daughter, and then she pulled back.

“Oru Warra,” Ahad said with strained politeness. “You’re looking well.”

Desola snorted. "Glad to see you've learned some manners. Come in, you two. You're early, but I can get something on the table."

Over the next few weeks, they fell into a routine. Glee slept most of the day, waking only in the mornings and afternoons. Ahad and Desola worked around each other, trying their best not to argue. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't; they liked each other no better than Hado and Oree had. They did little favors for each other--Desola cooked the dishes he liked best, and he took to looking after her terraces since he'd frightened off Kavi (Desola recalled some choice remarks about vegetable gardens and houses in the country; he told her to just show him which ones were the weeds). It kept the peace between them.

Slowly, Glee healed. She couldn't walk long distances, and sometimes, at night, she woke screaming. When that happened, Ahad held her until she stopped shaking, reminded her that Kahl was dead and gone and she was safe in her mother's house, safe with him. Safe. He had no nightmares--Yeine's gift to him held true--but he had flashbacks, and she sat with him until he was finished and could speak again, the little sun of her presence a comfort even though it was dim.

Time passed.  

Her father did not come. She hadn’t expected him to--except, in fact, she had, despite what she'd been telling herself. They had worked together for so long that it felt...wrong not to always be considering their next move. She missed him.

But he was a true god again, and the time they’d been apart surely felt like an eyeblink to him. That was leaving aside how much work readjusting to his position as one of three would be--the emotional negotiations, the careful drawing of boundaries (because neither of the other Two would leave him completely alone again, but he had broken things too badly for things to be normal, if there even was such a thing for them as normal). None of those left much room to think of his mortal family, no matter how much he loved her.

If he stayed away too long, though, she would go to him herself. He was, after all, /her father, and he wouldn’t be lost to her just because he’d returned to his rightful position.

One night in early spring, he found Glee out on the balcony, face tilted up to the stars.

"Thinking?"

"Mmhm."

He put his arms around her, and she leaned back into him. "You aren't bored here?" she asked. Now, there was a question. Strange timing--then again, probably not to her. Glee’s thought process was occasionally twisty in exactly the kind of way he couldn’t follow.

"Why would I be bored?" Ahad said.

Glee shrugged. "You're a city boy," she said, "And things are quiet."

He snorted. "After everything that happened, I can handle a little quiet.”

Chapter Text

    She gives him the name as she gave him all her other gifts: freely, and with no expectation that he'll take it.

    At first, he’s not quite sure what to do with it--he’s had so many names, and none of them fit. Every variation of Nahadoth’s name is, obviously, borrowed from Nahadath, a placeholder only. Beloved grates on him to no end. (Of course, Kitr uses it whenever she has a chance to, as does Lil. If the Hunger gets her collection of street children to start praying to him once they’re old enough, the two of them will have words. )

When he's had time to think, he asks her why. She's silent for so long he thinks she won't answer. Then she says, "I thought you should have a name that was given to you and you only. Do you not want it?"

"I want it," he says. And then, though he knows she's not waiting for gratitude, "Thank you." She smiles at him and goes on with fiddling with the radio, which is new and temperamental, run on the language the scriveners use.

The name is his. He keeps it close. Glee calls him by it, he thinks of himself by it, but to everyone else, he goes by Ahad. That name has served him for a hundred years, it can work a little more. His own is something private. Something precious.

Chapter Text

    Glee felt Itempas at dawn.

He wasn’t exactly subtle about it, though he didn’t bleed power at sunrise as he had when they traveled together. She supposed it was part of being a full god again. From the feel of it, he had been there for a few minutes, at least.

    He must have come back to see Mother.

    Well, it had certainly taken him long enough. She’d mentioned her continuing lack of a stepfather almost fifty years ago.

    Beside her, Ahad awoke and said, “Is he honestly--”

    “Mmhm.” She swung her legs out of bed and began to dress herself. “He won’t stay long, I think. You could go to Echo until he leaves again.”

    “Like hell I’m letting the old man drive me out of my own house,” Ahad said. “I’ll deal with him. I’ll even be polite.”

    She paused in buttoning her blouse and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”

    “You’re welcome.”

    Breakfast was awkward.

    Glee hadn’t expected it not to be, obviously. Her parents hadn’t seen each other in ages, Ahad didn’t like either of them and the feeling was mutual, and she was still slightly annoyed that her father hadn’t come until now. (She knew that he’d been busy doing other things. It didn’t stop her being annoyed.)

    The table was small enough that there was really no good place for anyone to sit. In the end, it was Glee and Desola on either side of Itempas, and Ahad across from him. No one looked at each other much. Halfway through, Ahad decided there was really someplace else he had to be and took his leave.

    (He’d said he wouldn’t be made to leave the house. He hadn’t said he was going to spend time with Itempas. This was probably for the best.)

    The three of them cleared the table, and then Glee took her father aside, onto the porch.

    “It’s taken you long enough,” she said.

    He shrugged. “I was unsure if I should come.”

    “You didn’t think that I would want you to?”

    “With that one in the house?”

    “Father,” she said, reining in her annoyance, “He has a name.”

    “He has several.” Itempas sighed. “Glee, I won’t pretend to understand, but I will follow our agreement as I always have. I have manners. I think we are capable of staying out of each others’ way. And I must...apologize. I lost track of time. I meant to visit sooner.” This was as close as he ever got to saying that he’d made a mistake. “Let me see.”

    She brought her power to the surface. Her father considered her. “I see. I think some of this is permanent.”

    So her fears had been correct. Glee sighed. “I thought so, too. How much of it?”

    “I don’t think you will ever call the Sword again, and you will never have quite the strength you once had. Everything else will return in time.” He spoke the words with the certainty of one who would make it so. She didn’t doubt he would personally alter the universe if she didn’t heal the way she should.

    “I can live with that,” Glee said, “It’s not as though I would use the Sword for much. Or, in fact, at all.”

    “That is true,” Itempas allowed. “Still. You gave much.”

    And she knew that when he said that, he meant, I am proud of you.

Chapter Text

Glee awoke before dawn, as she always did, and knew. She would not live past sunset. And that was being generous.

Well, she was three hundred and fifty years old. She'd looked seventy for forty years, and felt that way, too. Her joints ached in the mornings, and her left knee popped when she sat and ached before rain. Her body was running down. It was about time.

Ahad...she was worried about him. More than a bit, really. There was nothing she could do but trust in him to handle it well.

She herself was long past ready, and not at all worried about where her soul would go. It wouldn't hurt much. What it would feel like, she had no idea, but she imagined it would be a bit like falling asleep. No trouble at all. It should be interesting. After its own fashion. Glee was...not nervous, precisely. But something like it. Not afraid , either. Just...she didn't know.

Best to use all the daylight she had.

Carefully, she rose, wincing as her limbs protested. She unwound her headscarf and shook out her curls, then dressed in her favorite skirt and blouse. There was no reason not to wear them, after all.

Glee opened the window and leaned out of it. The spring air was cool on her skin, and on the horizon gleamed the light of the false dawn, though the true thing would not come for a while. There was time yet. She breathed in, closed her eyes. Behind her, the bedsprings creaked. "Good morning," she said.

"If you call this morning," Ahad muttered. After a moment, he slid his arms around her and rested his head against the back of her shoulder. "Aren't you too old to be out of bed this early?"

"I want to make the most of the day," Glee said. "This is the last one." There was never any point in sugar-coating, with him. She felt his face twist.

"Are you sure?" he asked evenly.

"Yes."

"Why?" His voice cracked, and for one painful moment, Glee wanted to live. Just so that he would not hurt.

No. My time is my time, that's the order of things. And I am ready. It would be stupid to stay for anyone else. Stupid, and harmful, and wrong.

"Because I'm mortal," she said, "It's what we do." She turned in his arms and rested her chin atop his head. For a while, they simply stood that way. Then Glee said, “I want to see the sun rise."

Ahad's arms tightened about her. "In a moment," he said.

Glee sat on the porch swing, wrapped in blankets. They weren't necessary, but they had been her mother's. It was comforting. The door creaked, and Ahad came outside. She opened her nest of blankets. He tucked himself in and passed her a sausage roll.

A lump rose in her throat, cracking the serenity she'd felt since she woke. It was just so ordinary, and she would never do it again. It wasn’t--she was surprised to find herself thinking this way--fair.

She wrapped an arm around Ahad and buried her face in his shoulder. No tears came, surprisingly, but still--she would miss this. Her friends. All of it. This house, and the chimney that /still/ didn’t work, and the garden, and the static-ridden radio. He stroked her hair.

With a sigh, she raised her head. "I'll see you again," she said quietly, "I'm not entirely certain how, or when--but it will happen, or there will be words." She was a demon, after all, the strongest in centuries. That came with certain privileges.

"With who?"

"Lady Yeine, maybe. I'll know when I get there." Ahad choked on a laugh.

Then the sun rose, and the power flooded her.

It lit her from the inside, filling her veins and her bones and her heart. It hurt --it had begun to do that a decade ago, and Glee expected the pain to pass, as it always did.

But it didn't, only centered itself in her heart. Her chest tightened, and she suddenly found it harder to breathe.

This was how her mother had died.

She'd thought she had more time.

Oh, gods.

Father!

Glee Shoth's heart stopped.

The glow faded from her. Ahad drew away and pressed a finger to her wrist. No pulse. She was gone.

Gone.

Ahad put his head in his hands, and did not cry. He'd expected...something different. Something sharper. But all he could feel was emptiness. It was dull and aching and...there. That was all.

Weren't people supposed to sob inconsolably when this happened? He hadn't paid attention, even when people prayed to him about their losses (he did his best to discourage worshipers, but the prayers came anyway.) Shouldn't he be bent double with weeping? Or something?

There were things that had to be done. Glee--the body. The body had to be burned, the ashes buried. People needed to be told. And a funeral. Ahad supposed there should be a funeral. She deserved one.

He realized he didn't know the Maroneh way of preparing a body for cremation. Glee had insisted on doing it alone when her mother died.

Well, he'd find out. Somehow.

Just not now.

Ahad stood slowly, wrapped up the body in the blankets, set the uneaten rolls aside. He scooped the body into his arms and teleported inside. He laid the body out on the couch, carefully, and fell into the armchair beside it.

He was struck, suddenly, by the memory of a winter morning, Glee curled up beside him, head resting against his shoulder, fiddling with the radio dial. “Just pick a station,” he’d said, and she’d said “I will when I find a decent one”, and he’d been annoyed, and--

--now he wept.

Hours later, the shadows said, “You know, she’s going to rot if you just leave her like that.”

“I don’t remember inviting you, Nemmer,” he said flatly.

“Someone had to come once we heard and no one else is really suited for it. Can you imagine Lil doing this?”

Ahad shrugged one shoulder. Nemmer was silent for a moment. Then she materialized fully and stood in front of him, hands clasped behind her back. “I know the Maroneh burial rituals,” she said.

“I know.” They were supposed to be private. Of course she knew.

“I can tell you them so you can take care of her.”

“It’s a body, ” he snapped, and immediately felt a sick pang of regret. And anger, for letting the least trustworthy of his sisters see him like this. “Don’t speak of it like she’s still in there,” Ahad added through clenched teeth.

“You aren’t the only person who’s going to miss her,” Nemmer said. “I would remember that, were I you. Might help. You not drive the lot of us off, I mean.”

That was more like her. Oddly, it helped more than her attempting to be gentle. “Just tell me what to do.”

Nemmer reached out and brushed his mind. The information slid through, so softly he barely noticed the intrusion. "Will you be wanting company tomorrow?" she asked.

"Can't have a wake without company."

"Noon?" He nodded. She vanished.

Noon the next day didn’t come nearly fast enough. He paced the empty house like a caged lion, wanting out but not wanting to leave the body on its own. The service passed in a blur, the wake likewise. It was a proper wake, and he was--was thankful the right word? Didn’t matter. It was a good thing. He still found himself alone on the porch, watching the sun go down.

The old man hadn’t come.

It wasn’t a surprise, not exactly, but he found himself more annoyed by it than he might otherwise have been. The annoyance kept back the grief. He’d already lost control in front of Nemmer, and he refused to do it again where the rest of them could see.

There was someone on the road. She was short, with a halo of curling hair, and she wore silver.

Yeine.

What in all the hells was she doing here?

“Am I interrupting?” Yeine asked.

“No,” he said. It was good to see her. Even with everything that happened.

“In case you’re wondering, Tempa did come back. We all do, when family dies. He’s just not here because he didn’t feel like fighting.”

The reasoning was sound, which annoyed him all the more. If he saw the old man they would argue, and it would be ugly, and if Glee were there to see it she would be toweringly angry at them both, which would only make the fight worse.

“What about the other one?” he asked, because if he didn’t ask, he had no idea what he would do, but it certainly wouldn’t be something he wanted her to see.

Yeine shrugged. “He didn’t form a body. Naha didn’t really like her much.”

Fair enough. Glee had never liked him either. “Neither did you,” Ahad pointed out.

“I didn’t know her. Not the same thing.” She looked up at the stars. The silence stretched out and out, and eventually stopped being awkward and became comfortable. Too soon, she said, “We’ve stayed too long.”

“See you in a couple thousand years,” he said. And, “Thank you. For coming.”

“No self-respecting Darren woman would miss her niece’s funeral,” Yeine said. “Goodbye.”

The entire world blinked on and off, leaving him disoriented. The Three really had been gone for a long time, if it just leaving pulled at the world that badly. He stared at the spot where she’d been for a moment more, then got up and went back inside. The wake was almost over.

A week later, one of the young women from Kamn found the key to the house under her pillow. When she went to look, she found it utterly empty of anything personal.

The Beloved had gone.

He never did live there again.

Chapter Text

You've heard this story before.

It started a long time ago, but the start of this particular installment is the Maelstrom ripping through the sky, dragging holes across the violet. There are three important players, of course. There are always three. It's a good number.

(Of course, the third one is quite a ways away, and won't come in for some while. But don't think that means you can forget her.)

Look now to the mountains. Look now to the godling standing there. He has many names, but for now Ahad will do. It suits him. Look now to his demon companion--a throwback descendant of Enefa, not strong but not too weak to be the second. Zie is small and dark and stares into the heart of the Maelstrom with fear beating in their chest.

This is going to hurt. But only for a little bit.

“Are you ready?” zie asks.

“Does it matter?”

“Probably not to the Maelstrom, no. But are you?”

“No.”

“Oh, thank gods it’s not just me.” Zie takes his hand. “Let’s, then.”

They vanish.

If you had the eyes for it, you might see the Maelstrom embracing them, shredding their forms to pieces. From the ground, you see it pull away. The sky clears, and the mortals breathe easy again. There will be feasting and dancing in celebration of their survival, and a wake, for the godling and the demon who are gone.

In a faraway realm of the dead, the third finally wakes up and smells the hydrogen burning.

And in the dark of the newest universe, Three join together. I told you so , the last of them says. There is love in her not-voice, and joy, and welcome.

A new star burns into life between the Three.

You’ve heard this story before, but it has a different ending every time.