Chapter Text
Pain is such an awful, human feeling. The complete opposite of what I’ve gotten used these last few months. It’s blinding, coming from every angle, it finds my every weak spot to attack.
How I feared pain for so long- it was the first thing I feared before fearing anything, before Gods and fire and not recognizing my own face. The fear of the bandage being ripped off, the prickle of my skin in anticipation. The fear of falling, of scraping my knee, of missing a hit in a fight and taking it in the face, the fear of where the next blow might come from. I’ve always hated how it made me feel weak- like I had failed, somehow.
How I hate you like an enemy, pain. How I missed you dearly.
When one is numb for long enough, they start to doubt their own reality. Did that table I bump into really exist? Did she miss my face, I didn’t feel the punch. Is that bruise just a patch of soot? One starts to lose touch after a while, not knowing what’s real.
Now, pain- sweet, real, tangible pain- is unwinding me, and I don’t have it in me to argue against it anymore. I’m tired- I just want it to take me. Burn a freezerburn hole in my ankle, climb in, and take me apart one miniscule piece at a time. Gear by rusty, breaking gear, I'm coming undone. Make me come apart, love. I won’t resist.
I’m strapped to a bed I think- I may be blindfolded. I could just be blind- with a push of a button . Wouldn’t that be rich? Maybe I am blind, and pain is the sense that’s taken over the strongest in my sight’s wake. I wish someone had taken me out to dinner before laying me out like this, courted me properly or given me some warning before this small death took me over.
Gods, I sound like a romance novel that’s been read to death- embarrassing, sappy. I suppose I shouldn’t be blamed- pain is my sole, doting companion, and isn’t this scene just so romantic?
Gods. I’m going crazy. Maybe I always was. A few months ago, I would have never seen myself here, crying and comparing torture to love on a table in a room in a building I tried to destroy, in a country I hate like I breathe air.
A few months- or was it less? Or more? I’m having trouble remembering, I-
I can’t-
Where is she? Where did they take her? Did she escape? Did Er-
Where is the Frostbringer?
I’m going to kill her when I find her. I’m going to take her stupid, gorgeous face between my false metallic hands and kiss it until one of us gets shot, or the Gods themselves fall out of the sky to stop us. I can have both, I’ve learned these past….however long it was between the bouts of pain. I can have both- I can want to kill her for abandoning me and not be afraid it’ll overload my senses, break me. I can want to kiss her, and not have it be wrong, not have to hate everyone I come in contact with, not have to hate her.
I can want a future, no matter how outlandish. I can want this. I can have it.
I did have it. But then…
Then...
When you feel this much pain for this long, you start to doubt your own reality. It envelops every texture, every sense- your shirt against your neck, scratching against your chest, the hot itch of clamps around your wrists that should be cool. You lose sight of what’s really harming you- is there actually a drill burrowing it’s way into my skull, or does it just feel like it? Is overhead lighting really out to kill me? Is this my new reality? Birth by flame? By scorching, itching, searing pain? Like a Phoenix?
That’s funny. It’s better than a Valkyrie. Far better than an Archangel.
I wish Starbreach was here to scorch me instead- that pain I could welcome. To melt me down to molten gold with her gloves and just let me dissolve. How sweet that would be, instead of this burrowing, constant reminder of how solid I am. That I have not yet crumpled back to dust for all I feel boneless and spineless.
I’m surprised I still remember who she is- it’s quite hard to remember anything at all now.
I remember her, because I remember a woman who looked like her, who hid her laughter between both hands and gave me sweets and let me pet the canaries at the end of a long day when we weren’t supposed to touch them, in case they died because of us and not for the reason they were intended to- to test if the air in the mines was toxic. Better they die than us- better they die than my parents.
It’s almost funny. I could almost laugh. Bathed in red light with delicate, hollowed out bones, I could be a canary. To be admired and awed from behind a gilded cage, My purpose was to die, kept alive and fed and clothed so I could die in the proper way, in the correct way. Crushed underfoot as soon as I get a moment of freedom, a second of flight.
I don’t want to die the correct way- a few centuries ago I didn’t want to die at all. That was a novelty I didn’t get a chance to enjoy. At least, I don’t remember ever enjoying it.
It’s quite hard to remember anything, anymore.
I can’t really remember what i was talking about- how I got here- How I-
Why was I-
Where...
What...
Oh yes. Canaries.
That’s funny. I’m singing now, aren’t I? Singing for all that’s left of Godolia to listen to. What a shame, my song will be wasted on only a handful.
I did that, didn’t I? You’re all that’s left, and I made it that way.
Listen to my song, oh great nation of Godolia. Don’t you recognize divinity when it’s strapped to a table right in front of you? You made me, can’t you recognize your own creation? Can’t you recognize your own Creator? You made me in the image of the heavens, crafted my flesh and bones into something more stellar, more awe inspiring.
Aren’t you proud? You made me what I am!
I reached the very heavens you built me for, scraped the sky, kissed the gods and here you all are; grounded. In the ruins of your bastard nation. Struck down by cleansing flame.
Struck down by Me, and-
And-
And...
Where is the Frostbringer?
Listen to your God when She speaks! Do you dare hide her from me? As if I won’t break out of this miserable cell eventually and hunt you down, hunt her down?
I want her like I want blood. You miserable few , you horrid last dredges of my oppressor. Grant an old lap dog her pound of flesh! I want her!
I don’t remember why anymore, it’s gone away some time ago. What there was between us, why I think of her in my every conscious thought. When I escape from whatever passes for sleep in this hell and when it takes me over again, into filthy, cold darkness.. Her eyes, her hands, her rage. I want it all- I want to witness it, I-
I...
I want to hold her rage, like I want to hold her. I want her like I want revenge. I want her to freeze the fire in my head, to slow it all down, to Ice the pain over so strongly that I die in the process.
Anything, anything but this.
Her face is etched behind my eyelids, it floats in my dreams in between screams and fire and canaries and big, metal boots and the fantastic crunch of an entire town underfoot. And cold wintery peace and fireplaces and dog-eared glued-over novels, and group hugs and kisses, and frost like shattered glass. Everywhere, from every angle, in every lighting, it’s her. The Frostbringer.
I think I used to know her name, Even if I still remembered it, I wouldn’t tell you. I don’t break that easily…
I don't break...
I don't...
Don't...
I don’t know where I’ve heard that before…
I hear her, I see her. I smell jasmine tea and soap, I taste hot cocoa and burnt popcorn, and someone else’s lips under a blanket of blood and soot and sweat. I feel nothing but pain, at every flash, at every sight. The two are so tied up in each other that I’m certain if this subjugation would end right now, I would associate the two for life after.
Maybe that was the plan. Make me associate her with pain so I won’t want to think of her- so I won’t want to think- but none of you understand how welcome a sight she is besides. How welcome the pain is.
When this ends, when it finally, against all odds ends, I’ll remember this pain. Laced with images of families I never had. People I can barely recall now, but leave indented shadows on my memory. There were people. I was a person, before I was a God.
When this ends, either by my sweet release or by my being repurposed, because of her I'll remember the pain fondly.