Work Text:
When King Andrias had said he had a way to heal Marcy Wu, Olivia had not expected… this.
She had only stayed behind for this. When Yunan had ran with the other human and the rebel toad commander, Olivia had wanted so desperately to join them. Staying had been the hardest choice she had made, but what else could she do? Not when the child she had come to love as a daughter had been left there on the ground, helpless and alone.
Olivia, at first, did not know how she was going to withstand being in the king’s presence after this. He had always been unnerving to her, especially when she was younger and being brought up in the court and watching as he never aged, never grew older with her, had always been timeless and disconnected from society.
She should have realized something was off the moment he took an interest in the human child, but that time has long since passed, and she’s had no time to think of past mistakes or regrets, not when Andrias has finally revealed his plan to her, and she has to face… this.
“The ground is so hard,” the creature in Marcy’s body proclaims, tentatively stepping across the stone floor of the basement, “and cold. Is it always this cold?”
Before Olivia can deign that a response, the creature lunges forward and then slips on air, arms flailing as it crashes hard on the ground. It is something she has witnessed Marcy do countless times, but while the other times might have drawn out fond exasperation, this time she only steps forward in concern. Marcy’s body has only just healed enough for movement, after all, and she does not want anything to happen to the girl.
Well. Anything worse than being the host of some archaic god, if what Andrias has told her is correct.
“You must be careful,” she scolds, “no matter how old you are, Marcy has always been rather… unsteady on her feet. You do not want to back in the chamber, do you?”
The creature - god? - blinks at her, the bright red eyes being the only sign that Marcy is not herself. “Who are you?”
“I am Lady Olivia. As King Andrias is busy and says you must relearn how to… well, function properly, I am your caretaker.” Olivia sighs, and she drags her hand through her hair. “You… truly do not remember a single thing about me?”
“I have never met you before,” the creature informs her as it picks itself back up, wobbling slightly. “But I assume you are referring to Marcy’s memories. I have tried to stay out of those for now; she yells at me when I try, and it’s quite… well.” It hums, and then blinks again, slowly like it’s still the creepy machine that the healing chamber had been attached to. “I see, I see. You are… a friend.”
There’s something dangerous in its tone when it says this, but everything about the past few weeks of Olivia’s life has been dangerous, and she’s not going to shy away from it now.
“That’s right... a friend. Now, come along. The King has prepared the proper attire for someone of your… status, and I believe a bath and a meal are in need as well.” Olivia sighs again, and she turns away, fully prepared to lead the creature that is not Marcy away and then perhaps find a quiet spot where she can write Yunan and scream.
The creature, however, has other plans. It takes another step forwards and then faceplants on the ground once more.
“It has been so many millennia since I have walked,” it declares loudly, sounding almost smug, even as it struggles to get back off the ground. “It is a task I will conquer!”
“If you keep falling, you are going to hurt yourself,” Olivia scolds - again, and honestly, this feels the most familiar of any task she’s had in the past few weeks - and she reluctantly doubles back, retracing her steps until she’s next to the child. “Marcy is a child who was grievously injured; you will have to be more careful if you do not want to ruin her… body.”
“I will keep my host in the best care,” the creature insists, but it allows Olivia to hoist it upwards, wrapping its arm around her shoulders. It’s too tall for this position, but when its arm is around her, she can almost pretend that things are normal, and that she’s escorting her Marcy back to her room after a long night’s study.
“Is she… still there?” It’s a question that not even Andrias had known the answer to, when he was setting up the tubes and wiring, explaining the process. The Night, the god that he had been serving for a thousand years, needed to be free to walk the world once more, and it also needed to defeat the wielders of the calamity box… so giving Marcy over to it for healing would solve two problems, and Andrias did not have enough empathy or affection for the girl to be bothered that he was giving her body to something that might destroy it.
Olivia had been horrified, but she had swallowed it down. As long as Marcy lived.
“My host?” The creature tilts its head, and it steps forward, out of Olivia’s hold. She watches it carefully, but although the wobble is still evident, it does not fall on its face again, just teeters back and forth. “She is fine. We have had many long discussions, her and I. We have come to an… agreement, of a sort. She will let me use her body, and in return, I have not locked her in her own worst memories! It is a winning trade, if I do say so myself.”
“So she is still there?” Olivia pauses, and then shakes her head. “Nevermind. Forget that I asked.”
“You are so curious.” The creature observes, as she leads it up the stairs - a challenge, since the creature’s motor functions aren’t quite fine-tuned yet, and Olivia has watched Marcy tumble down steps far too many times now - and then down the hallways of the palace. “Did you, perhaps, care for my host?”
“No,” Olivia lies.
The creature almost looks disappointed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As it would turn out, getting the creature dressed is… a challenge.
Olivia has helped Marcy get dressed many times. She had cared very little for her own appearance, so often times it was up to Olivia to make sure her charge was properly dressed for court appearances, missions, and time with the king alike. She should be used to the routine by now, but the creature proves… difficult in ways she had not anticipated.
Like the way it stares at the outfit that King Andrias himself had picked out, all elegant and simplistic at the same time. It is nothing like anything Marcy would wear herself, but Andrias had said that his lord was older than time itself, and deserved the best he could offer.
“I am not wearing that,” it says, with disdain.
“This is the outfit that King Andrias has deemed worthy for your reintroduction to society,” Olivia says, exasperated. At least this part is familiar. “You do not have much of a choice; you are wearing it.”
“I am the Night! Lord of all the Realms! Conqueror of Worlds!” It sits on the bed with a loud huff, crossing its arms petulantly. “I should be allowed to choose my own attire!”
“King Andrias has suggested that perhaps, you are too removed from society to know proper etiquette.” Olivia sighs, her temples aching. She has not had a stress headache since…
...well, probably since that night that Marcy hosted her friend Anne and Anne’s frog family for a sleepover. After that night, she had spent far too much time with the king and hardly any time around Olivia. Has it really been so long?
“This appearance will be of upmost importance, you must look… properly intimidating, if you will. King Andrias is hoping that news of this appearance will reach the wielder of the strength gem and lure her to us, so that way he can capture her. Surely that of all things interests you?”
The creature hums, and it stares at the clothes, and then back up at Olivia. “Strength… she lives? She is still here?”
Olivia thinks back on the last time she had seen the other human, the rebel one. She had been screaming, eyes flashing pink, clawing at her toad guardian’s arms as he dragged her away. She had been crying for her friend, begging for a chance to see her again, to hold her in her arms…
Yunan had followed them, pressing a kiss to Olivia’s head and asking softly if she was sure about this. You don’t have to stay, Liv, she had whispered, he’s crazy, we have to protect the citizens of Newtopia. You told me that’s what you cared about, wasn’t it?
I’m sorry, Yunan, Olivia thinks, but I cannot abandon Marcy.
“The other human lives,” she answers, reluctantly, “but I am unsure in what state. The supposed death of Mar… of your host, it angered her. We do not know where she is now.”
Something dark flashes on the creature’s face, red eyes piercing through the room before it settles back. “I will not wear these. Get something better.”
In a way, Olivia thinks, as she wrestles the creature that was once Marcy to the bed to get the bodysuit it is wearing off, this is familiar, too. The creature may be thousands of years old, but it has the mind of a child, and she has become very equipped to deal with children over the months.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Her letters to Yunan are the only things keeping her sane, at this point.
They are always brief, though never written in code - King Andrias had once possessed the gem of wit for a reason, there is no code he could not crack, and Yunan has never been the brightest, so Olivia had refrained - and hardly ever spoke of things that are important. Olivia had been telling the truth when she claimed to have no idea where the third human was; Yunan never once gave away her location, or any information about her travels.
Just fraternizing with a traitor could get Olivia executed, but she couldn’t resist. Yunan’s letters were always surprisingly sappy; she’d send trinkets she had found that she thought Olivia would like, she’d ramble about how much she missed Newtopia but how much fun she was having with the human; Sasha, her name was.
In return, Olivia only spared the barest information. She could not risk her position, not when she’s starting to believe she could have some sway over the creature in Marcy’s body.
Marcy Wu is alive, she writes, sprinkled in the middle of an otherwise mundane status report. Do not let the king fool you otherwise.
She had gotten no thanks, no heartfelt response. Yunan did not know Marcy very well, she still doesn’t understand why Olivia had risked her life and status to stay back with the child. Perhaps one day… but that was a fantasy she had kept buried for too long now.
She only hoped that it had eased Sasha’s nerves, and inspired her to rebel once more. This time, maybe, it would be a rebellion Olivia would aid.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“This is humiliating!”
Olivia sighs, watching the creature flop back on the bed that had once belonged to Marcy. “The King has your best interests at heart,” she says, because that’s what he would say, if he were even around.
Andrias had been… increasingly busy attempting to repair the music box, after the combination of Marcy’s fiddling and his own sword had left it incapable of keeping a portal stable for longer than a few seconds. The crown remained firmly on his head; something of which was, apparently, not supposed to happen now that The Night or whatever the creature called itself was walking and in a host body.
“He is supposed to be serving me, not the other way around!” The creature throws its hands in the air, and groans loudly. “My host has such warm feelings for him, and I too used to think so fondly of him… but he is wasting my time! Why wake me so early if I am supposed to just sit here as a child?”
“What does Marcy think of it all?” Olivia pulls up a chair, glancing around Marcy’s room. Her plants were wilting, she notes; they have not been watered since the last time Marcy was in this room, as herself.
The creature is quiet for a moment. “She is… afraid,” it answers, finally, hands fiddling with each other, “of Andrias. He does not keep promises. He is unfit for ruler.”
Those are all points that Olivia could agree with. She sighs, and leans forward, staring at her charge. “Do you know why I stayed here?”
The creature blinks slowly. “What do you mean?”
“I could have run.” She doesn’t know why she’s talking about this. She should not be talking about this, not with the creature that she personally witnessed destroy an entire wing of the palace in a fit of rage after the king had blown it off again. “But I couldn’t. Not after seeing Marcy like that. She… the king used her, but to the rest of the palace, she is special. Cared for. I don’t know if she ever knew that, but she grew on all of us.”
The creature is still staring at her. It sits up on the bed, leaning forward.
“I didn’t do anything to ease her nerves that day,” Olivia confesses, “and I should have. She had been so afraid, terrified of being alone, and I should have told her that she was never alone. But I didn’t. I didn’t, and she was injured so gravely thinking she was alone. I would do anything to change that.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“For a god, you are… kinder, than I thought you would be. I treat you the same as I treated her, and it’s… familiar. Too familiar. And you care for Marcy just as I do, I can tell. You care about her opinion, even though she is just your host. And the king is mistreating you, just like he mistreated her.” Olivia laughs something dry. “You might kill me after this, but I have always known that attempting to befriend you would be… risky, and here we are anyways.”
The creature blinks again. It tilts its head, and the glow of its eyes seems to soften minisculely. When it speaks again, it uses a softer voice, one more reminiscent of Marcy’s own. “You… care for me?”
Olivia leans forwards, scooting the chair forward until she can take the familiar hands in her own. This, at least, hasn’t changed, asides from how pale and cold those hands have gotten over the weeks. “I have always cared,” she says, quietly. It’s the truth this time.
The Night inhales, and then exhales sharply. “Nobody here has given me the respect I deserve,” it says, in its own voice, “nobody except for you… what was your name again?”
“Olivia.”
“Olivia,” it echoes, and then snorts. The snort turns into a giggle, and then turns into a cackle. It’s laughing and laughing, and Olivia holds its hands through it all, awkwardly closing her fists around the strangely shaped fingers.
“I did not expect for my host to be so beloved here,” The Night says, once it has stopped laughing maniacally, “she certainly did not expect it either. Are there… others? That might care for her?”
And Olivia is not an idiot. She knows that the being that is The Night could be playing her like a fiddle; she’s always been smart, but her intelligence had never held a candle to Marcy’s, and there’s no telling how wise a being of thousands of years old could be. Still, she watches the way it unfurls towards her, eyes wide and shiny and sincere and if they weren’t red, she could pretend it was Marcy once again.
“I did not realize someone of your magnitude would care for little ones,” she tests, squeezing its hands.
The Night huffs petulantly. “You have clearly never needed a host body before,” it says, rolling its eyes. “It requires delicacy, precision. If the host starts fighting against you, it could be disastrous for both you and them, so the best way to convince them into allowing you into their body is to befriend them. It has nothing to do with Marcy herself!”
It does not look very convinced.
“I understand,” Olivia says sympathetically, “when the king brought Marcy off the streets of Newtopia and into the palace, I was reluctant to speak with her as well. I did not expect her to worm her way into my heart so quickly. She’s kind to you, is she not?”
“She is not in my heart!” The Night protests, and it releases Olivia’s hands, cheeks flushing a bright red. “I do not have a heart, and if I did, she would certainly not be in it! She is just my host! I am kind to her because I do not want her fighting for control, that is all!”
Olivia nods sagely. “If you insist.” She stands, folding her arms in front of her chest. “Now. I believe it is mealtime. Is there something you would prefer for food?”
“Burgers!” The Night leaps up like an excited tadpole, bouncing in place. “I want burgers!”
“Burgers it is.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“My Lord,” King Andrias says, stepping into the throne room with a thoughtful expression on his face, “you are… not dressed in the attire I prepared for you. Is it not to your liking?”
The Night, which had evaded Olivia’s attempts at dressing it properly once again and is now wearing nothing but Marcy’s pajamas, crosses its arms. “Your clothes are too regal,” it says, with a huff, “and itchy. This skin is very sensitive, and I refuse to wear anything that’s uncomfortable.”
“I understand, my Lord, but surely you understand the importance of making a statement?” Andrias sighs deeply, and Olivia has to cover her mouth with a fan to avoid laughing at the conflicted look on his face. He has not spent much time around his newly reborn lord, clearly. “This will be your first appearance to the citizens of Amphibia, you must inspire fear!”
“I believe that is your job,” The Night says, with a snicker. “I will not inspire anything in this form. You promised me a powerful host but gave me the body of a clumsy child. No, I don’t want to make any appearance, not until Strength and Heart arrive to fight you.”
“Need I remind you that the ‘clumsy child’ you speak of is one of the wielders of the Calamity Box?” Andrias looms over them threateningly, but The Night looks thoroughly undeterred, blinking up at him with those big red eyes. “She has a powerful gift, surely you know this?”
“Why do you speak to me as if I am a child?” The Night steps backwards, “do you forget who you serve? You serve me, not the other way around. If your own pitiful misdeeds led you to giving me this form instead of another that is more prepared, more fear-inspiring, then that is for you to own up to. Do not treat me like I am still her! Strength and Heart will be back to retrieve their friend, and then and only then will I reveal myself. Do I make myself clear?”
The air around it crackles and recoils, the room still. Olivia wonders if there’s something silent and deadly at play, some reason why Andrias would listen to his master instead of simply squashing it down like he did Marcy.
“Crystal,” King Andrias says finally, a dark look on his face. He’s clearly unpleased with how events have turned out. Olivia would say it’s karma, considering he got them into this mess by stabbing a child. He turns to storm out, leaving The Night in the center of the room, alone.
Well, not entirely alone.
“Olivia! Look at how threatening I was!” The Night bounds over to her, eyes wide and sparkling. There is no hint of the cold being it had been with King Andrias, just an overexcited child, one that Olivia has interacted with countless times. “Finally, someone is intimidated by me again! Oh, this feels wonderful!”
“You were terrifying,” Olivia says, fondly, and she reaches to ruffle its hair. In a way, she muses, The Night is similar to Marcy in a way that seems to surprise even the king. She wonders if that’s a side effect of possessing someone; gaining their traits, until it’s less that they have taken over and more that the two are coexisting. The Night seems to imply that Marcy is happy, even though she’s not in control, so Olivia can only hope it’s right.
“King Andrias has been my servant for so many years, I fear that he has lost sight of what’s important,” The Night says, linking arms with her as they carefully navigate back through the palace. Even after all this time being awake, it’s still not the most confident on its feet, and Olivia truly doesn’t want to see it hurt. “The three do not need to die for me to live, I have never cared for such simplicities. If I did, Andrias would have died long ago. Strength and Heart do not need to die, not as long as I can coexist with Marcy like this. I like this!”
“Has Marcy shown you anything about them?” Olivia wonders aloud. “She spoke so highly of her friends to me, and yet… neither one of them seemed to hold her to the same regard as she did them.”
The Night falters, eyes flashing in a way Olivia has come to associate with it communicating silently with Marcy.
“She feels she does not deserve them,” it finally says, coldly, as if it does not agree, “that she has hurt them too many times in the worst of ways, bringing them here. Silly girl. Doesn’t she know that it was destiny for them to find their way to Amphibia? Well. She is glad that she was able to save the ones she could; namely Heart, whom she regards in… oh. Oh. I see.”
Well that’s not ominous. Olivia steps away from The Night as they reach its bedroom, folding her arms in front of her chest again.
“Strength… Sasha might be coming here soon, to exact revenge on the king for the supposed murder of her friend,” she says, quietly. It’s the most she’s spoken of a topic in one of her letters to Yunan. She doesn’t know what she’ll do if The Night wishes to kill her lover and her lover’s allies. “What will you do?”
“I don’t know,” The Night admits. It plops down on the bed with a groan. “Everything made more sense when I was in my robotic form. Now I have a child in my head, and it is making things just so complicated. I don’t know what to do!”
“Well, whatever it is you decide,” Olivia starts, and then hesitates. There’s so much for her to think about, for her to question; she doesn’t know why she’s staying by the side of an ancient being, no matter how much it resembles the child that her Marcy had been when she first arrived. This isn’t her Marcy, and she shouldn’t care so much, and yet… “I told you I was your caretaker here, and I mean it. I will be here.”
It’s not much, in the long run, but it’s a start.