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justaghostingon · 4 years

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Merfolk are Overrated

Chapter 7: Trouble for Dinner

Kodya’s mother returns, and Kodya and Nephthys find a few unexpected guests join them for dinner.

Warning! Heavy topics below, including implied non consent. A selkie shows up and she has a kid. You do the math.

read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041904/chapters/64961422

or below the cut

Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Kodya. He was completely average as far as little boys go. He loved all animals, but dinosaurs were his favorite. He loved to go to the beach with his parents, even though he couldn’t swim. His father loved to oblige him, taking him out on the fishing boat and reassuring him that not knowing how to swim was actually good luck for a sailor. His mother however, rarely came to the sea, often claiming her long work hours as the reason for her absence. But that was fine. Kodya knew she worked hard to provide for them. His parents loved him and each other. They told him so. And like every little boy, he believed his world was perfect.

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Kodya did what he always did when he panicked. He called Nephthys. “We’ve got a problem!” He snapped into the receiver, not even bothering to say hello. “Mother is coming home! Saturday!”

“She’s what?” Nephthys cried, and Kodya heard the distant clang of something falling to the ground. “She didn’t say!” Nephthys sounded a little hurt. Ouch. Kodya would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a rush of jealousy as he was reminded that Nephthys talked to his mother more than he did.

“Well she told me,” he said through gritted teeth. “And it's worse than that.”

“Worse? How?” Nephthys cried, and Kodya drew in a sharp breath.

“She told me to invite friends,” he hissed, placing all his emphasis on the last word. “Friends Nephthys, don’t you see? She knows!”

“No!” Nephthys cried, her voice going higher. “She can’t! There’s no way! I didn’t tell her anything!” The fear in her voice made Kodya’s own fear grow stronger. He dimly wondered why he always called Nephthys in these situations.

“Well she figured it out somehow.” Kodya began to pace around the house. “She knows about the Kid and Fluffy and Red…” Nephthys gave a slight gasp, and Kodya stopped pacing. “You gasped.” He snapped, as he suddenly remembered why it was he always called Nephthys in these situations. “Nephthys what did you do?”

“I might have mentioned your dolphins,” Nephthys began, guilt lacing her voice. “And how I suspected you’d met someone you were too embarrassed to introduce me to, since you started bringing sea glass with the flimsy lie of a dolphin getting it for you.”

“You told her what?!” Kodya cried, as a rush of heat turned his cheeks red, even in the privacy of his own home. “Nephthys!”

“Now, now!” Nephthys chastened. “This is a good thing! She only knows you had a possible boyfriend, nothing about mermaids at all! We can work with this!”

“How?” Kodya ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “She knows the Kid exists! What do you want him to do? Pretend to be my boyfriend to throw her off the scent?” And if Kodya had been any less terrified, he’d probably be blushing at the mere thought.

“Absolutely not!” Nephthys said sharply. “We can’t have her anywhere near them, or she’d figure it out in a heartbeat. No,” and Kodya could hear the rustle of her hair as she shook her head. “We need to do the opposite. Play it off like it didn’t work out, he moved away, or wasn’t interested, and you don’t want to talk about it.��

“So you want me to play the loser to get pity, is that it?” Kodya grit his teeth once more.

“Exactly!” Nephthys said. “That way she won’t press.” And Kodya really would have liked to protest this plan, but he had to admit it would work. His mother would be unlikely to press him on such a messy subject. She’d never liked talking about love.

“Fine.” He sighed. “I’ll tell the mermaids to postpone, and we’ll play up the dumped boyfriend card.”

“That’s the spirit!” Nephthys cheered. “I’ll start getting the house ready right away!”

----------------

It was on a fishing trip that Kodya first realized his world wasn’t as perfect as he’d thought. It had been a lovely day, clear skies up ahead and a soft breeze ruffling through Kodya’s short hair. There had been a seal on a buoy, the biggest one Kodya had ever seen, staring back at them across the water. He, and Kodya knew it was a he for some unknown reason, had looked so intelligent that when it had opened its mouth Kodya had leaned over the edge of the boat, almost in a trance, to hear what the seal would say.

Cold water splashed against his face, starling Kodya as he pulled back into the boat. His mind trying to catch up with what had just happened. A sharp “chip!” noise came from the spot he had just taken, and Kodya saw the cheeky grin of a dolphin smiling back at him.

Bang! A sharp noise knocked Kodya’s head forward as he gripped his ears in pain. The dolphin gave a slight cry and slipped down into the water, a small smoking hole in its pretty grey skin. “Kodya!” His father rushed to his side, gun held aloft.

“You killed him!” Kodya cried, nausea rising in his stomach.

His father frowned, like he couldn’t understand why Kodya was making such a big deal of it. “The dolphin could have hurt you. It was wild.”

“But you aren’t supposed to kill dolphins!” Kodya pressed, feeling his eyes begin to tear up as he looked at the creature’s still floating corpse. “They’re protected!”

His father snorted. “No one really cares about those laws, Kodya, you’d be surprised how many of those so called activists will pay to eat a dolphin just like the one I shot today.” His brow furrowed as Kodya tried to blink away tears. “Don’t go crying Kodya. We’re fishermen, you’re going to have to get used to this if you want to make any kind of living. You hear me?” He gave Kodya’s shoulder a small shake.

“I hear you,” Kodya gave a slight sniffle, rubbing away his tears with the back of his hand.

“Good,” his father said. “Now help me get that thing in the net. We might as well make some money off of it.” Kodya gave a dismal nod and began to do as his father ordered. As he lifted his head he saw the seal was still watching him from across the water. The seal watched him, a deep, angry coldness in his black eyes. And Kodya had looked away, ashamed.

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Kodya checked the kitchen once again. Mess, cleaned up. Food, he paused to stick his pinky in the mash potatoes. The flavor burst in his mouth. Hmmm, he moved it around his tongue. Did it need more herbs?

“Nephthys?” He called. She came barreling into the kitchen, still fixing her hair into a slightly fancier ponytail than normal.

“Is something wrong Kody?” She asked as she pulled her hair through the final loop. Kodya took a spoon and held up the mashed potatoes.

“How’s it taste?” He asked. Nephthys grabbed the spoon and stuffed it in her mouth, one hand straightening her white blouse.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “This is really good Kody!”

“Good,” Kodya began scooping the mashed potatoes into a dish with a spoon. “How’s the table looking?”

“Already set up,” Nephthys replied as she glanced back out of the kitchen to check just in case. Kodya nodded and carried the mashed potatoes to the dining room, placing it on their best lace tablecloth. He absently straightened the edges, careful not to upset the fine china on top. Technically, he didn’t have to do anything that didn’t have to do with the kitchen, since he didn’t live here anymore. As Nephthys put it, ‘I made the mess, I should clean it up.’ But that age old instinct was still present to make sure everything was perfect for his mother’s return.

“She’s late,” Nephthys bustled into the dining room, casting an anxious look at the clock. “She’s never late.”

“Maybe she got held up,” Kodya replied as he tugged at the collar of his best button up. Nephthys shook her head.

“She’s never held up,” she said. “Something must have happened,” Kodya was about to protest that his mother could handle herself when the doorbell gave a sharp clang.

Both Nephthys and Kodya jumped. Nephthys hurried around the table towards the door, but Kodya was closer. He pulled the door open, to see his mother standing on the other side, arms folded.

It would never stop being weird to Kodya that he was taller than his mother now. At 5’9 and stout from a life of lifting weights and bearing Kodya, she was no petite by any means. But that didn’t make it any less weird that his eye level was with her hair.

“Hello Kodya,” she said, hair shifting slightly as she moved her head to peak over his shoulder, “Hello Nephthys.” Kodya lowered his own eyes to meet hers, wide and black and so very different from his own. Everything was different between them really, except the coarse brown hair they both shared. Kodya had always taken more after his father. Sometimes he wondered if his mother resented him for it.

“Hey,” he said, instinctively hunching his shoulders. His mother frowned, lifting a hand to touch his cheek.

“Your hair has gotten longer,” she murmured as she ran her fingers through it. Kodya leaned into the touch, enjoying the sensation.

“I like it long,” he said softly, eyes half closed as his mother continued to pet his head. For one moment, everything was right in the world. Then, because nothing ever seemed to go his way, a flash of green caught his eye.

Kodya jerked his head upwards, and his mother stepped back in alarm. “Kid?” Kodya cried, as Gyrus appeared behind his mother, hauling a familiar suitcase up the path.

“Kodya?” Gyrus gasped, taking a step back as Tori and Sylvia came up behind him, each with another piece of luggage.

His mother looked between Kodya and Gyrus. “Do you two know each other?” she asked. Behind him Kodya could feel Nephthys stiffen.

“What are you doing here Kid?” Kodya demanded, confusion and anger overriding his own panic. Gyrus gave a sheepish smile.

“Well, you said you were busy today, so I switched days off with Maria so we’d have another free.” Kodya raised an eyebrow and Gyrus continued hastily, “then we met this lady outside and her car had broken down, and she needed our help to move her suitcases while the truck took her car away.” Beside him Fluffy hauled one of the suitcases in the air and flexed her muscles.

“You said you would be busy with your mother,” Red added, crossing her arms as a note of accusation entered her voice. Gyrus jumped, panicked hands moving to try and signal Tori to stop talking. Tori ignored him.

Kodya facepalmed, wondered what horrible thing he had done to anger the universe to cause such an implausible coincidence to happen. “This <i>is</i> my mother. Who I’m having dinner with. Right now.” He gestured to his mother, who crossed her arms.

Tori turned as red as her hair and Sylvia’s mouth fell open. Gyrus pushed between them, no doubt attempting to run damage control before anyone else got insulted. “Hello!” he said as he stuck out his hand, and Kodya was suddenly very grateful working in the service industry had taught Gyrus basic manners. “I’m Gyrus!”

“Senator Karevic,” she replied as she gave Gyrus’s hand a firm shake. “Pleased to finally meet a friend of my son’s.” Kodya winced at that, it was looking like it was going to be harder and harder to get out of this. He shot Nephthys a look, do something! He silently pleaded.

“It’s so kind of you to help!” She said with false cheer. “And of Alistair to let you help for a few minutes!” Please take the hint and go back to work. Her eyes said.

“Oh my shift was already over,” Gyrus gave a half laugh, completely missing how Nephthys’ face fell. “Apparently Maria doesn’t work as late as I usually do.” Behind him Sylvia frowned, seeming to notice something was wrong.

“Why don’t you come in and join us for dinner?” Kodya’s mother smiled her winning smile, the one she used for campaigns and parent-teacher conferences. “We’d love the company.”

“We wouldn’t want to be a burden,” Tori hesitated, and Kodya felt hope rise in his chest.

“Nonsense,” Kodya’s mother shook her head and Kodya felt his hope shatter into a million pieces. “We would love to have you. Right Kodya?” She raised an eyebrow in a way that made it very clear that Kodya was going to agree, or offer up a very good reason as to why not. Kodya bit his lip.

“We’d love to have you,” he said through gritted teeth, then added, “Nephthys, why don’t you help Mother move upstairs, since you know the new layout best.”

“Yes!” Nephthys sang, snatching the suitcase right out of Gyrus’ hands. “Let’s go on up!” She pulled it forward with an unexpected strength, forcing Kodya’s mother to hurry after her. “We’ll just be a minute!” She hollered while she shot Kodya a look that said, get them to behave while I’m gone.

Fluffy placed a hand on Kodya’s arm, furrowing her brow in a silent question. Kodya took a deep breath.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” he started, shaking off Sylvia’s hand. All three mermaids froze.

“Is something the matter?” Gyrus asked, finally beginning to read the writing on the walls.

“Yes,” Kodya growled. “My mother is here. My mother who is in the government. Who. Can. Not. Know. About. Mermaids, or she’d have to report it! This is the absolute worst place for you to be! What were you thinking?”

“That’s hardly fair.” Red scowled. “How were we supposed to know? She looks far too old to be thy mother.” Gyrus’ eyes widened with realization, and Kodya would bet money that he hadn’t explained the differences of human and mermaid aging to Tori. He looked down.

“Look, it doesn’t matter,” Kodya pinched the brow of his nose. “What matters is you’re here. And as long as you’re in the same room, you can only talk about human things, understand? Nothing that could give you away!”

“So numbers and ice cream and stuff like that?” Gyrus asked as he tapped his chin. “Like making small talk with Maria and Knox.”

“Yes! Exactly.” Kodya pointed a finger at him. “From now on, you’ll do most of the talking. The rest of you,” he cast a sharp look at Fluffy and Red, “stick to subjects you know. If you’re not sure, don’t talk at all. Got it?”

Red nodded, but Fluffy frowned. She opened her mouth and hummed a few bars before cocking her head to the side to say, why don’t we just sing her into forgetting us?

“Absolutely-” Kodya began, but was interrupted by Nephthys crying out.

“We’re back!” As she came down the stairs.

“-Time for dinner,” he Kodya straightened, trying to look as nonchalant as he possibly could. As if that was all they’d been talking about. “Please,” he added through gritted teeth. “Take a seat.”

Gyrus, Tori, and Sylvia all awkwardly climbed into the chairs around the table. They didn’t have much grace, but at least they only looked like mannerless idiots and not fish without a clue how anything worked. Kodya sat carefully in his own seat, holding his arms close so he didn’t bump the elbow of Gyrus to his left. It was strange to have the table so full. The only time it had been this crowded had been when they’d had neighbors over when Kodya had been small. But those had come to a stop thanks to his father. Kodya’s brow furrowed at the memory.

--------------

Kodya was ten when his father got sick. It was a long, slow sickness that took over a year to kill him. It started with coughing, then throwing up. Some days would be good, and he’d be almost better. But other days he could barely rise from the bed. Mother started to be around a bit more, to care for Kodya, she said, making sure his meals were cooked and he went to school on time.

Kodya was glad to see his mother more often, but he almost wished she wouldn’t. Because when she was home, it was only a matter of time before she and father got into a fight. The house would rattle as angry words would fly back and forth. Kodya would huddle in front of the TV, volume turned high as it would go, and let the Transformers drown out all other sound.

Sometimes Mother would come down to breakfast with makeup that was thicker than normal. But even then, Kodya hadn’t thought anything of it. His mother was a former navy seal. There was no way a sickly man like his father could hurt her.

-----------

“Kodya?” Nephthys’ voice echoed across the table, and Kodya looked up to meet her worried gaze. Kodya shook his head, clearing away the bad memories to see that his mother was offering him the mashed potatoes.

“Thank you,” he gave her a fixed smile as he took the dish from her hands. “I love mashed potatoes.” He piled his plate high with deliberate slowness, knowing that the mermaids were watching and taking notes. His mother raised her characteristic eyebrow.

“I should hope so,” she said wryly. “Seeing as you made them.” Nephthys gave a nervous giggle of agreement.

“You did?” Gyrus asked as he eagerly took the dish and spooned out the same amount of mashed potatoes as Kodya had taken, casting little glances over to make sure he was doing it correctly. Kodya fought the pride creeping up his stomach.

“Yeah, I made everything here,” he shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. The three mermaids turned their attention to the spread of food across the table. Fluffy’s mouth started watering. He grabbed the salmon and offered it to Gyrus. “Would you like to try the rare salmon?” Then remembering he was talking to someone who ate fish raw he added, “be careful though, rare means it’s not cooked all the way through.” Which was about as close as he could get to warning him that it was cooked at all without drawing his mother’s suspicions. Maybe he should have claimed they were all vegetarian.

“Thank you,” Gyrus passed the mashed potatoes to Tori and took the fish, balancing it awkwardly between his knife and fork. As soon as he finished Tori snatched it away, placing a fish on her plate with her bare hands and giving it to Sylvia, who placed two on hers. Kodya winced as Nephthys blinked down at the single solitary fish left behind. He shot a quick glance at his mother, but she seemed not to have noticed.

“Kodya has always had a gift for cooking fish,” she smiled at Gyrus, who looked a bit like a deer caught in the headlights. “I’m quite sure you’ll find it enjoyable.” Kodya frowned. Why was she taking such an interest in Gyrus? Then Nephthys’ original claim about a secret boyfriend, forgotten in his panic at the mermaids’ arrival, came rushing back. Oh no.

From across the table Nephthys mimed for Gyrus to take a bite. Gyrus blinked. Nephthys bit her lip, then deliberately cut her fish and held a piece up to her mouth. She glared at Gyrus over Kodya’s mother’s head, who was still waiting patiently.

Gyrus’ eyes widened, and he stabbed his knife through the fish. It cut a jagged piece that was too large for polite company, but Gyrus didn’t notice, stuffing the whole thing into his mouth. He paused for a fraction of a second afterwards, face carefully blank, and if Kodya had not been directly next to him he doubted he would have noticed. Then the moment passed and Gyrus shot Kodya’s mother a happy grin.

“It’s really good!” He said before turning to Kodya, “you’ve really got a way with food.” He then took another bite, fixed smile firmly in place.

“He really does!” Nephthys agreed, no doubt eager to keep the conversation on safe subjects like admiring the food. Fluffy took this as a sign to eat, biting her fish in half.

“So how did you two meet?” His mother directed a calculating smile towards Kodya and Gyrus. Yep. She definitely thought they were dating. Kodya’s hands twitched as he resisted the urge to facepalm.

As if matters couldn’t get any worse, on the other side of the table he saw Sylvia spit out the salmon, making a face at him from across it. “Fish…” Kodya started and his mother wrinkled her brow. “Fishing!” Kodya cried, determined to keep her attention on him and not on Fluffy, who was now trying to clean her tongue with her hands.

“I was in the water,” Gyrus added as Tori pushed water towards Sylvia to try and help her get rid of the taste.

“Because he fell off another boat!” Kodya jumped in. Fluffy downed the water in one gulp.

“I hurt my leg,” Gyrus explained. “And had hyposomething.” Red and Fluffy looked around desperately to find a place to hide the fish.

“Hypothermia,” Kodya supplied as Nephthys directed Red and Fluffy to stick the fish in the soil of the potted plant behind her with a practiced ease that left Kodya feeling slightly insulted.

His mother blinked, looking between them with narrowed eyes, with an expression that said, I know you’re lying, but I can’t prove it. But that was fine. She’d used that expression multiple times on him and Neph, and they hadn’t gotten into trouble for it yet. Finally his mother relented, with a polite smile. “That’s quite the story. You’re very lucky Kodya was there to rescue you.”

“Yeah,” Gyrus’ face softened. “I really was very lucky to meet him.” His eyes met Kodya’s, and Kodya felt like his heart had turned to butter.

“And what about you two?” Kodya’s mother turned her attention to Tori and Sylvia. Both girls froze, trying to look like they hadn’t been hiding fish. Nephthys shifted her head slightly to cover the potted plant.

“Oh you know,” Tori gave a slight shrug as she turned her attention too Kodya’s mother. “We tried to rescue Gyrus.”

“Not that I needed it!” Gyrus cut in. “But you know, when someone falls off a boat…” he rubbed the back of his neck as he shot Tori a look that said, play along.

“I promised his mother I’d look after him,” Tori said stiffly.

“His mother?” Kodya’s mother asked. “She’s not yours?” Sylvia, Gyrus, and Nephthys all winced.

“She most certainly is not!” Tori snapped. Kodya’s mother’s mouth twisted into a slight frown. The frown she used when Kodya made a fuss over something he shouldn’t. Tori crossed her arms, clearly refusing to be intimidated.

“Don’t ask,” Kodya muttered into his mother’s ear. On the other side Nephthys nodded rapidly. His mother bit her lip.

“I apologize,” she said, and Kodya was a little surprised at how genuinely sorry she sounded. “I should not have pressed.” Tori took a deep breath and uncrossed her arms, Kodya’s mother’s genuine remorse cooling her initial anger.

“It is forgiven,” she muttered. The table fell into an awkward silence. Kodya glanced at his mother, who looked morosely down at her food. He wondered if something in the conversation had triggered her. He hadn’t thought questioning parentage would be upsetting. Then again he wouldn’t put it past his father to have said something awful. He’d gotten so paranoid he’d been willing to say just about anything, especially towards the end.

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The night before he died, his father called Kodya up to his room. “Bring me some scissors and a knife,” he commanded Kodya. Kodya didn’t move.

His father sighed. “I’m not going to do anything stupid,” he reassured Kodya, a ghost of his old smile on his lips. “I just need it to take care of some old furs.” Kodya had still hesitated, he’d heard the doctors and neighbors whisper about how the mind deteriorated with illness. He didn’t want to give his father anything that could cause him to hurt himself. “Go on,” Kodya’s father said, with a bit more heat, and Kodya jumped, hurrying down the stairs two at a time.

He returned with both items, and his father snatched them out of his hands, attacking a strange brown rug over his lap in a frenzy. “Stop!” Kodya had cried, jumping to his side and trying to restrain him, but his father seemed to have gained an inhuman strength. He didn’t stop until the strange fur rug was cleaved in too.

Then he leaned back into Kodya’s arms, all his strength disappearing into the air. “You know everything I do, I do for you right son?” He smiled up at Kodya.

“Yes father,” Kodya had agreed, discreetly trying to get the scissors and knife away from him. His father snorted.

“You can take them back,” he dropped them dismissively. “I don’t need them anymore.” Kodya grabbed them and pulled them far out of his reach, feeling far from convinced. His father laughed, a warm, freeing sound, and for one second Kodya was little again on the beach.

Then his father looked at him, a sobering smile. “Don’t worry about what will happen after I die,” he said, and Kodya felt tears prick his eyes. “Hey now,” His father met his eyes. “You’re going to be fine. Your Mother is going to take care of you. I’ve ensured it. So don’t go crying, got that?”

Kodya had nodded. But he hadn’t been able to keep that promise. He’d cried the next day, sobbing throughout the funeral. His mother had pulled him close, she’d never cared that he cried. Her eyes had been wet, and at the time, he’d thought she was crying because she missed him too.

He’d been wrong.

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“So Gyrus,” Kodya blinked as his mashed potatoes swam into focus at the sound of his mother’s voice. He looked up to see she had returned her attention to Gyrus, bad mood shaken off in favor of her larger goal. “What are your hobbies?” Cold dread washed over Kodya as he realized her misstep had not been enough to get her off her self-imposed mission to interrogate his supposed boyfriend.

“Hobbies?” Gyrus blinked. And Kodya silently panicked, frantically trying to remember if he’d taught Gyrus about normal human hobbies. “I enjoy spending time in the ocean, collecting sea glass, and learning from Kodya!” He added with a sideways smile at Kodya that said, I’ve got this.

“Learning?” his mother pursed her lips, glancing over at Kodya. Kodya furrowed his brow. The lie of Gyrus being a foreigner was all well and good for Anan and Alistair. They’d never been out of state. But his mother, who lived and breathed politics, wasn’t going to buy it at all.

“Dinosaurs!” He blurted out, and everyone turned to stare at him. Kodya didn’t blame them, it was a pretty stupid choice, but he couldn’t exactly back down now. “I was teaching him about dinosaurs,” he explained. “I mean, since he asked.” Right, because that was totally believable. Why oh why couldn’t he have just said fish?

“Dinosaurs are an interesting topic!” Nephthys chimed in. Kodya’s mother’s attention swung to her, one eyebrow raised. Nephthys ducked her head, cheeks burning red. Thanks Nephthys, Kodya fought the urge to roll his eyes. Would it kill you to grow a backbone? That wasn’t really fair, Kodya wasn’t much of a match against his mother’s eyebrow of judgement either, but at the moment he wasn’t feeling particularly charitable.

“Certainly the most interesting thing Kodya has ever taught,” Red added with a nod. Kodya wasn’t certain if she was insulting him or trying to help.

“Did you know plesiosaurs were around for 135 million years?” Gyrus leaned forward, expression serious. “Their continued survival is fascinating.”

Fluffy shuttered. She held her hands apart and snapped them together like a large jaw. Not fascinating, she shook her head. Dangerous.

“Sylvia was it?” Kodya’s mother narrowed her eyes. “That’s an interesting sign language, what country is it from?” Her voice was polite, but Kodya winced. It was the tone she took when someone decided to say something rude in the grocery store, or she was about to destroy an opponent in a televised debate.

Sylvia cocked her head as Kodya and Nephthys exchanged looks. Nephthys cleared her throat and his mother’s eyes snapped to her. “Sylvia didn’t learn any.”

“It’s a bit of a sad story,” Kodya added, “Really best not to press.” Fluffy, Red and the Kid all gave fake expressions of sadness.

“I see,” Kodya’s mother frowned, looking unconvinced. Kodya gulped. Apparently the sad story line only worked once.

“Tell me,” Kodya’s mother leaned forward, smile sharp. “Where are you from? Your accents suggest you aren’t from the states.”

“Korea!” Kodya cried, naming a country he knew his mother had no connections too. At the same time Nephthys said:

“England!” No doubt trying to explain Tori’s accent. They looked at each other as Kodya’s mother raised an eyebrow.

“What they mean is we’re all from different countries,” Gyrus offered. “I’m from Korea, and Tori’s from England, originally.”

“I see,” Kodya’s mother said, in a tone that said she knew everyone was lying, but wasn’t going to say anything yet. “And you Sylvia, where are you from?”

Me? Sylvia pointed to herself.

“Lomonosov,” Tori spoke up, and everyone turned to stare at her. “I guarantee you’ve never heard of it.”

“Actually I have,” Kodya’s mother straightened. “Lomonosov Ridge, an underwater ridge located in the arctic off of Russia.” Kodya’s blood ran cold as his mother turned to give mermaids the look she usually gave opponents on the debate floor before she eviscerated them. “Now why would you claim to be from somewhere submerged?” her smile was sharp as a knife. Kodya bowed his head, knowing it was over.

“You didn’t hear that!” Gyrus panicked, voice deepening with an odd inflection. Kodya looked up to see his mother’s features smooth into something completely blank.

“I’m sorry Sylvia,” she said in a dull, monotonous voice. “What was it you just said?”

Horror washed over Kodya as he realized where he’d heard that odd inflection before. Cynthia had moved like a puppet, and Kodya shuttered as he imagined his mother moving in that stiff, parroted walk.

“I’m sorry,” Gyrus said, pale and shaking. “I-I didn’t…”

Kodya’s mother stood up, towering over the table. “It’s time for you to leave.” She smiled at the mermaids, but there was a fury in her eyes that made Kodya shutter. He hadn’t seen that look since the seal.

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The funeral had been on the beach. Fitting, since his mother had him buried in the sea. There hadn’t been that many people there, some concerned neighbors, the other fishermen, and a few shady looking people too. After it ended, people kept trying to talk to Kodya, to offer condolences or tell him to man up, but he shook them off.

The only one he wanted to talk to was his mother, but she was held up by one of the shady looking people, a woman in black business attire and shades like someone out of a spy movie. So instead he wandered off, down along the beach.

In the distance he spotted a seal, a great big one that seemed oddly familiar. Kodya wandered towards it, pulled forward by the strange, almost hypnotic pull of the seal’s dark eyes. The seal hated him, Kodya could see it in his eyes, but somehow he couldn’t quite bring himself to stop. Not until he was nearly on top of it, and the great seal bared its tusks and roared.

Kodya felt the sand hard against his back as he collapsed. Wet spit sprinkled on his face as the great seal reared on its back flippers and screamed. Kodya saw his eleven years flash before his eyes, and as the seal began to lung downward, he briefly wished there was more of it.

“KODYA!” A familiar voice screamed, and suddenly his mother was there, standing between him and the full fury of the seal. He wanted to cry out, wanted to stop her, but his voice was stuck in his throat. “LEAVE.” His mother swung her hand back, and slapped the seal across its fat head. “MY.” It reeled back, the force of the slap knocking it off balance. “SON.” His mother wasted no time, headbutting him in the side and knocking him back into the sand. “ALONE!”

She stood over the seal, victorious, as the funeral attendees began to run to the scene. His mother bent her head, and Kodya could see tears in her eyes. “Leave Отец,” she whispered, and Kodya wondered if he was delusional from the shock. Surely she hadn’t called the seal father. “Leave,” she said again, straightening her shoulders to better block Kodya’s view. “And never come back.”

The seal rolled on its belly, and began to flop away, back to the waves. It stopped just once, just as the strange spy lady reached Kodya’s side, to look back at his mother. It gave a single, mournful cry, almost like a farewell, and disappeared beneath the water.

His mother fell to the sand beside Kodya, pulling him forward into a tight hug. Kodya buried his head in her shoulder, as she began to cry, great ugly sobs, like her whole world was over. And despite his best intentions, Kodya found he soon followed her.

-------------

“Mother?” Kodya rose to his feet, trying to figure out how to defuse this situation. “What’s wrong?”

“Your friends are leaving.” His mother crossed her arms. “Right now.”

“Excuse me?” Tori jumped to her feet, Sylvia hot on her heels. Gyrus grabbed at Red’s side, no doubt trying to stop her from doing anything rash. Tori didn’t make any aggressive movements, but she did not sit back down, instead glaring at Kodya’s mother.

Kodya’s mother glared back, a single, frigid eyebrow raised, daring Tori to start anything. Kodya gulped. He hadn’t seen her so angry since her debate with a politician who’d had the nerve to call her a communist plant.

“Is this really necessary?” Nephthys started, glancing between the two with a worried expression. Kodya’s mother’s sharp frown turned to her.

“You and I will talk later, Nephthys,” she said. “You knew the rules.” Nephthys flinched like she’d been struck, looking small and lost, like she hadn’t since the day he’d pulled her out of the water. Kodya felt a surge of protective anger boil.

“Don’t go taking this out on her,” He snapped, finding himself suddenly on his feet. “They're my friends, who you invited inside.” Then he paused as his brain caught up with the strange wording. “And what do you mean by rules?” Last time he’d checked, there weren't any rules about inviting weirdos into the house, or else they’d never have kept Nephthys.

“Kodya now is not the time,” His mother grit her teeth. Beside her, Nephthys looked up, wide eyes warning Kodya to be careful.

“We should go,” Gyrus tugged Red and Fluffy from their positions. “Now.” He pulled the two of them towards the door, stopping only to whisper “Sorry,” over his shoulder, before Sylvia pulled him through.

No sooner had the door shut behind him then Kodya’s mother turned to him. “You shouldn’t see them again.” She warned, back straight as a rod. “Whatever they told you was a lie.”

“Excuse me?” Kodya scowled, crossing his arms. “I’m a grown adult! I can see whoever I want to!”

“I’m trying to protect you.” His mother shot back, “those people are dangerous. They spent the whole evening lying and -”

“I know they were lying! I asked them to lie!” Kodya shouted. His mother looked like he’d slapped her. In a quieter voice Kodya said, “Did it ever occur to you that I’ve got the common sense to know who’s trouble and who isn’t?”

His mother shook her head. “Kodya I really don’t think you don’t-”

“Ehem,” Nephthys coughed, and both turned to look at her. “I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding.” She turned to Kodya’s mother. “Kodya learned about sirens months ago; he knows what they can do.” Kodya flinched at the wording, casting a worried look at his mother, but she merely furrowed her brow. “And Kodya,” Nephthys gave him a rueful look, “you’ve got to admit a siren using his thrall, even just on accident, doesn’t give the best first impression.”

Kodya took a step back, shaking his head to try and clear it. Nephthys’ calming words taking a background as his mother’s lack of reaction took center stage and the pieces slowly began to fall into place. “You knew?” He exclaimed, staring at his mother in horror. “You knew there were mermaids?”

“Kodya,” his mother started, but Kodya wasn’t finished.

“Did you know about her too?” He pointed at Nephthys. His mother didn’t reply, but Kodya had grown very good at reading her silences, and he knew from the way she pursed her lips that she had. “Why,” he croaked out, looking back at Nephthys, who looked away. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You don’t belong in that world,” his mother said. “I was trying to protect you.”

“That’s bullshit!” Kodya snapped. “I lived with Nephthys for years! I’ve known the mermaids for months and they clearly haven't done anything to me! So tell me again what you’re supposed to be protecting me from?”

“From being killed!” His mother shook her fist in the air. “Do you have any idea what some of the elders would do to a half-blooded child like you?”

“Half-blooded?” Kodya blinked at the oddly archaic phrase. “What are you talking about? You’re not from the sea…”

“Oh Kodya,” his mother whispered, her eyes a mixing of pain, fear, and guilt. Kodya had seen that look only once before.

-------------

His mother starts her campaign when Kodya is a junior in high school. It was strange, having people suddenly know who he was when they hadn’t before. Everyone seemed to have an opinion on his mother’s policies, or just wanted to know what it was like to have a parent who would be famous. It looked like she was going to win by a landslide, and not just in their little town.

So he really shouldn’t have been surprised when the smear campaign started. Suddenly sleezy people were digging around, asking questions and running their mouths about anything they could. At first, it was easy to ignore, they didn’t have any real dirt anyways. That was until he turned on the news, and saw one of his father’s old fishing buddies on the big screen.

“So tell us a bit about the Kaverics,” the news reporter was saying.

“The Kaverics? Let me tell you,” the man leaned forward with a gleam in his eye, “Mr. Kaveric was about the biggest piece of scum I’d ever known. Illegal hunting, selling endangered animals on the black market, the whole shebang.”

“Really?” The reporter raised an eyebrow. “And did Mrs. Kaveric know about these dealings?”

“Know?” the fisherman cackled, “She was one! A genuine mail order Russian bride, or so I’ve been told. He was her only connection to America, and he took full advantage of that, yes he did. Used to come in late, bragging about how he didn’t have to work because he’d just make his wife do it. Sometimes she’d even show up with too much makeup, and we all knew the reason.”

Kodya snorted as he switched off the TV. “I swear this slander gets stupider and stupider.” Idiot couldn't even get his facts straight. Mail Order Russian Bride? His mother had been a distinguished navy seal when she met his father. He glanced over towards his mother wanting to make a joke, “Do you think…” He stopped.

His mother sat stiff as a board, eyes wide and unseeing as she stared at the screen. “Mother?” Kodya asked, reaching a hesitant hand out towards her. His mother flinched, whole body contorting away from him. It was just an instant, before she righted herself again, eyes going wide, and full of guilt as she tried to reach back at him. But it was too late.

Kodya’s world shattered.

------------

Kodya did what he had done then, he ran. Ran and ran until he couldn’t run anymore, as if by running he could somehow escape this reality and go into a different one. But no one can run forever, even if they want to, and when Kodya eventually ran out of steam, he found himself at the empty beach. He collapsed on the sand, panting, as the pain of his lungs temporarily distracted him from his thoughts.

But it didn’t last, and as his breathing evened the events of the disastrous dinner came running back, and all the dread and confusion that came with them. Kodya shook his head, trying to get a grip on himself. So mother had kept another huge, life changing secret from him, so what? It’s not like this was the first time she’d done so. She’d lied about his father until that fisherman had aired that family secret on live TV.

His father, Kodya pulled his knees to his chest. Had he been responsible for this too? Prevented his mother from returning to the sea somehow? Not that Kodya was sure how a bedridden man could do anything to prevent a mermaid or sea witch or whatever else his mother apparently was from going to the sea. Then again, he hadn’t thought a bedridden man could hurt a navy seal, and he’d been wrong.

There was another way he could keep her on land, a dark part of his mind whispered. If she had Kodya, she’d be forced to stay. She could hardly take a half-blood who couldn’t even swim back with her when some faceless elders would supposedly kill him.

And why was it such a big deal anyways? He scowled at the waves. He wished Gyrus were here, so he could ask him. But then again, he pulled his knees closer. If it really was such a bad thing, Gyrus might not want to be around him anymore. Would he go find a new human teacher? He hardly needed Kodya now he had a job working for Alistair. Kodya bit his lip, trying to keep the sudden surge of sadness inside him from spilling into tears.

“Hola mi amigo!” A voice cried, breaking Kodya out of his dark thoughts. He startled, reaching back a hand to catch himself from falling. When he looked up, he saw Don waving at the side of the road, wheelchair brought right up to the pavement. “Are you here to enjoy the beautiful sunset too?”

Kodya blinked, rubbing a quick hand over his eyes, just in case. Don noticed anyways. “Ahh,” he said with a shake of his head. “I know that look. Who broke your heart mi amigo?”

“Nobody,” Kodya scowled, wishing the busybody environmentalist wannabe would just go away. Don however, seemed to have no intention of moving, pulling out a Harmonia from thin air and bringing it to his lips.

The saddest tune Kodya had ever heard washed over him, low and mournful. Kodya wondered distantly how anything so sad could come from a harmonica. As the music continued to play its wordless melody, Kodya got the overwhelming urge to spill all his problems to Don, just to talk to someone about his mother’s secrets and his real feelings for Gyrus. Wait what? Kodya shook his head, embarrassment breaking him out of whatever spell Don’s music had cast.

“Is something wrong?” Don lowered his harmonica, voice concerned. Kodya felt his cheeks heat up, an irrational fear that Don could see inside his mind rising to the surface.

“I’m fine!” He pinched the bridge of his nose, pretending to have a headache, but in reality he was only trying to disguise the red. “I’m just sick of all the lies,” he said to buy himself time, and found to his surprise that it was true.

“Ready to win him back?” Don leaned forward, a gentle smile on his lips. Kodya fought down another blush. Don really, really was harping on this being a lovers dispute.

“I didn’t say I was going to win anyone-” Kodya protested, because he wasn’t, but Don raised his hand to stop him.

“There is no need to be so embarrassed my boy,” Don pulled something from his pocket, “but it just so happens I have something that will solve your problem.”

Kodya eyed the two pieces of paper suspiciously. “I’m not buying a ticket to whatever you're selling.”

Don let out an easy laugh and shook his head. “No mi amigo, this is a gift. To pay back Gyrus for that enlightening conversation we had at Alistair’s shop.”

“Who said this had anything to do with Gyrus,” Kodya grumbled, but took the tickets anyway. At the very least he could pass them on to Gyrus when he apologized for everything that had happened. Join the Movement! was written in bold letters on the ticket. Come to the Rally! He raised an eyebrow at Don. “Self promotion much?”

“I am a politician after all,” Don said, looking completely unabashed. “You take Gyrus on an interesting date that tailors to his interests, I get two more people in my rally. Everyone wins.”

Kodya furrowed his brow, but he couldn’t think of a downside to that deal. Still. While this was all well and good of Gyrus, it would hardly fix his problems with his mother. “I’ll think about it,” he said, tucking the two tickets in his back pocket.

Don smiled. “That’s all I ask.”

“Doooonnn!” Anan’s voice echoed down the street. “Where are you?” Don and Kodya both looked up.

“I’ve got to go,” Don gave Kodya an apologetic smile, before wheeling himself down the path at a brisk pace that seemed rather reckless for a man of his age.

Kodya watched him go hand slipping to his back pocket to finger the tickets tucked safely inside. He still wasn’t sure how Gyrus would respond to the revelation he’d just learned about his mother and himself, but maybe if he invited him out to do something non-threatening, he could bring the word “half-blood” up casually and gage Gyrus’ response. Like a spy gathering information. Maybe he’d be able to learn a bit more about what it meant and why his mother was so upset, so he could understand why she had lied for so long. Maybe he’d even find out that it wasn’t as bad as she’d feared and she’d finally feel comfortable enough to tell him everything. If nothing else, he’d at least be able to take Gyrus out on a fun date.

Yeah. Kodya lifted his head. That didn’t seem like a bad idea at all. Maybe Don really had handed him a solution to his problems. The corner of Kodya’s mouth twitched up. He really wasn’t so bad a guy after all.

#room of swords #mermaid au #merfolk are overrated #gyrus #kodya #ros Nephthys #tori #sylvia #don #kodya's mother #selkies

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justaghostingon · 3 years

Text

A Soldier’s True Enemy

Kodya wasn’t used to this. He new how the army worked. Grit your teeth, do your job. Shoot or others will shoot you first. Nevermind that you never wanted to be there on that lonely battlefield, no one did, no one cares. Your dreams could stray back to the woods of your birth, hunting with your cousins and cooking the spoils with your mother over your own hearth, but your body? It did as it was told.

But here in the Room of Swords? It didn’t work like that, and Kodya couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

He could understand if it was just Gyrus. He knew Gyrus was different the second he’d opened his eyes to meet those bright purple orbs. He’d thought at first that Gyrus was a more experienced soldier, the type who looked out for rookies out of the urge to protect something, anything that actually mattered in the face of pointless war. But it rabidly became obvious that Gyrus was no mere soldier. He was a Colonel, nay, higher. The right hand man and co-founder of the whole opperation. And he’d jumped in a freezing lake to save a mere rookie.

It was stupid really, everything Kodya knew about war and strategy told him so, but he’d known right then and there he’d follow this man to hell and back. Anything to protect a leader that actually cared.

But it wasn’t just Gyrus, it was this whole damn place. On the surface, it seemed much the same, rations for food, bunks for beds, everyone working on a job, and the new recruits got the ones the older members didn’t want. And yet it was all wrong. Most people left the two rookies alone, no hazing, no drills. They had to pull their weight, but chores were just a part of life, even at home, and they were trusted to go wherever they wanted and fiddle with weapons and training or anything else they wanted to do when those chores were done. At night, everyone would gather together, Don would play the guitar while the others listened and talked and laughed.

And all they ever talked about was home. From the cultures, to hobbies, to those strange little stories every family has. It was...warm. Nothing like the cold emptyness of the seemingly endless war Kodya had left behind.

By all rights, Kodya should have been happier with this turn of events, should have revelled in his time with a group that didn’t find his life expendible, that could sing together and laugh together and get along. But there was something uncomfortable that settled under his skin as he watchex the faces of those around the room, seemingly carefree. He wanted to stay, yes, to fight for these people and their warmth, but he couldn’t relax no matter how hard he tried.

He wasn’t alone though, he could tell, as he watched Gyrus’s gaze darken, eyebrows scrunched as he stared into space while Ragan continued to laugh beside him. This wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last, when their brave leader would get lost in his own head, trapped in the darkness every soldier knew.

“Hey, do you hear me?” Ragan asked, but Gyrus didn’t respond, and Kodya knew he couldn’t hear her.

He leaned forward, “Hey.” He deliberately made his voice louder, not shouting, but deeper, and full of authority, like his drill sergeant’s had been. It worked, Gyrus’ head snapped up, wide eyes meeting Kodya’s and Kodya squashed down a moment of pride that it was his voice Gyrus had responded too.

“Ah!” Gyrus startled. “What is it?”

Kodya frowned. “You okay?” He asked, more to spare the man’s pride than anything. “You were completely out of there for a while.” Kodya searched Gyrus’ face, wondering if there was a way to show through his expression how much he got it, that he could help, if only Gyrus would let him.

“Heh,” Gyrus laughed nervously, and Kodya’s heart sank. “Was I?” He looked sheepish, apologetic, like there was something wrong with showing any kind of weakness.

“Haha, well yeah,” Kodya laughed along, unwilling to let it slide without at least trying. “Hey maybe you should go to the doc.” With numbers on his side, he could probably get Gyrus to listen. “You need me to take you?” If he got Gyrus alone, he could express his similar struggles, and maybe get Gyrus to open up even if the doctor couldn’t.

But Gyrus merely flashed him a pained smile that made Kodya’s stomach turn. “Don’t worry about me!” Gyrus spoke with false cheer. “I was just...”

“Tired!” Don jumped in, citing some excuse to get Gyrus out of the room and away from the crowd.

“Night,” Kodya murmured as Gyrus and Don hurried away. He wanted to think Gyrus was in better hands, he’d known Don the longest after all. But then again, Don never seemed to carry the same weight that Gyrus did, never seemed as bothered by the horror of the world they inhabited. Which was fine, one of the reasons the Room of Swords was so warm was because its leader could always see the bright side. But it also meant Don didn’t fully understand what Gyrus was going through, and if Kodya was honest with himself, Gyrus always seemed a little worse after Don’s “help.”

“Jealous?” Nephthys whispered in his ear, causing Kodya to jump.

“Nephthys!” He protested as she giggled. Although, he thought as he ducked his head to hide the blush on his cheeks, she might have a point. Maybe he was being unfair to Don, he was trying his best to help his friend, and the warmth he created probably did help, even if it wasn’t as much help as Gyrus needed.

“You’ll get him next time,” Nephthys gave his arm a playful shove, noticing the more pensive mood that over took him as he reflected on Don and Gyrus. “Just keep trying.”

Kodya shot her a smile. Nephthys was right. He shouldn’t give up. Don could support Gyrus in his way, but he couldn’t do it alone. Kodya could help too, if not with Gyrus’ mental struggles, then by watching his back like Kodya had watched his regiment’s in the war.

Yes, Kodya squared his shoulders. He wouldn’t let Gyrus struggle alone. The next time he saw Gyrus, he’d ask if he’s take him on as an apprentice once again.

#room of swords #gyrus #kodya #room of swords fic #strawbarrow drabbles #pre-shipping #a look into what Kodya thought of Gyrus

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justaghostingon · 4 years

Text

Only Dreams, Only Nightmares

Kodya notices changes in Gyrus after his return. He wonders if anyone else does.

Takes place shortly after Gyrus’ return in episode 104.

read on ao3 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/27049414

or below the cut:

There was something different about Gyrus after his return, Kodya noticed. It wasn’t as obvious as the last time Gyrus had disappeared, which in itself was one of the changes that made it so strange. When Gyrus had last vanished, he’d been shaken up for weeks, wandering the corridors at night, and even begging Kodya for help when he’d never asked anyone for it before, ever!

But now, now he was acting like nothing had happened, waving off all helping hands, and even shaking off Nephthys’ insistence that he stay overnight at the medbay.

“I’m fine,” he’d protested as Kodya and Nephthys hovered around him like two worried birds. “You just said there’s nothing medically wrong with me. Besides,” he shot Kodya what he no doubt thought was a reassuring smile, “I’d like to sleep in my own bed, if that’s okay with you?”

Kodya had agreed, in the hope of cornering him once they were alone. But it didn’t happen. Once in the room, Gyrus had all but dragged Kodya to bed, tucking him like he were a little kid. Kodya had of course, objected, as Gyrus was the one who’d just gotten back, and Kodya still had questions! But Gyrus wouldn’t hear it, settling beside him in the bed, a hand reaching up to stroke Kodya’s hair.

“Sleep,” Gyrus whispered, voice low and hypnotic. “You need it. I’ll be here when you wake.”

Kodya would have loved to protest that the last time Gyrus had said that he’d dissapeared, but five days of no sleep had taken its toll. The second his eyes closed under Gyrus’ ministrations, he was out like a light.

A nightmare jolted him into consciousness, and he grappled with the sheets, hands instinctively seeking the warmth that was supposed to stay beside him. His hand found Gyrus’ and he relaxed as his attention turned to the still slumbering man. He was still asleep, hardly a new occurrence, as Gyrus’ tendency towards the night meant he took a long time to wake up.

Kodya took this opportunity to stare at Gyrus, drinking in the sight of him safe at home after five days of fearing the worst. He looked so peaceful with his hair loose over the pillow, and Kodya felt a smile tug at his lips.

But...

But the more he looked at Gyrus, the more a feeling of wrongness grew, twisting its way around his heart. There was something different about Gyrus, something beyond his strange behavior. Something physical. He bent closer, running a hand through Gyrus’s hair. The texture was familiar and smooth, but as he pulled his hand away it stayed between his fingers for too long. He caught a lock between his thumb and tugged it gently straight down to measure it against Gyrus.

Yes, it was as he thought, the hair that once barely brushed his shoulders was now down past them. Not noticeably, not more than half the length of Kodya’ thumb. Someone who was looking at him casually probably wouldn’t have noticed, but here in their room, in their bed, it seemed obvious. Kodya cursed himself for not noticing sooner, wishing he’d been able to point it out to Nephthys. Maybe she’d be able to make Gyrus talk.

But then again, what was he thinking? They could hardly hold Gyrus in the medbay for extended hair. It wasn’t some great illness, right?

He lowered his head, to scrutinize Gyrus’ hair better, see if there was something else he’d missed. There wasn’t, it was only hair. Kodya snorted, realizing how stupid he was being. Below him Gyrus stirred, eyebrows scrunching in his sleep. Kodya’s attention turned to watch the adorable display, and stopped.

There were wrinkles missing from his face. He didn’t have many, but Gyrus was pushing towards 28, and the age and stress of near constant danger had left little marks around his eyes. Gyrus didn’t give them much thought, but Kodya had always made a point to kiss them whenever he could, so that on the off chance Gyrus ever developed that self-conscious obsession that had haunted Kodya’s mother, he’d know Kodya, at least, loved all of him.

Wrinkles missing, that had to mean something right? What else was wrong? Kodya turned his attention to the rest of Gyrus, scanning his neck, arms, chest, looking for more differences. At first, it seemed there were none. But as Kodya looked again, he noticed something odd.

Gyrus’ scars were wrong. They were all in the same positions, sure. The scar on his shoulder from when a monster had bitten him. A long scratch on his chest from when he’d met a less than friendly local. The dozens upon dozens that littered his stomach from all his resets. They stretched across his skin, faded together to leave faint lines crisscrossing his skin.

And there was the problem. Because they were all faint, the same kind of faint, as if they’d all been made at the same time, and aged together. Gyrus’ scars had never been like that, they’d been different, some nearly gone, some stark and clear, as much a variety as the many different types of adventures they’d shared. So how then, were they suddenly all the same?

Kodya wanted to shake Gyrus awake and ask, to drag him to see Nephthys again no matter what he protested. But something held him back. Wrinkles missing, scars all faded and longer hair, did he even have a case to make? No one else was close enough to Gyrus even notice the changes, if Gyrus denied it, it would be Kodya’s word against his.

But Gyrus wouldn’t do that to him right? He wouldn’t lie when Kodya presented him with the evidence, evidence he was surely aware of. Right?

“He told me to lie for him,” Don’s voice whispered in his ear. “...Perhaps, he decided to end his suffering before anything terrible happened...”

Kodya’s stomach twisted as he looked down at the sleeping man before him. Would he tell him the truth? Or would he lie again, like he’d apparently been lying for ages, even to Kodya.

Gyrus stirred again, eyebrows drawn as worry lines began to reform on his face. “Kodya,” he murmured, and Kodya froze, half wondering if he’d been caught, but all Gyrus did was turn to his side, bringing himself close to Kodya’s warmth. Gyrus snuggled even closer, features relaxing as he tucked his head into Kodya’s side, his too long hair falling over his face and spilling on to Kodya’s lap.

Kodya pushed the strands gently away, to see Gyrus’ face had creased into a small smile in his sleep. Kodya’s heart clenched painfully at the sight, but he couldn't tell if it was from love or heartbreak.

#room of swords #room of swords fanfic #Kodya #Gyrus #thanks discord #sad #non-sexual intimacy #based off that one theory on the discord #you made me sad #I make you sad

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justaghostingon · 4 years

Text

Pygmalion

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25962064

Once there was a man, who could not find love among the women he knew, so he decided to make his own.

“Oli, come with me. I’ve got a new project for you.” Gyrus’ smile was stilted as he beckoned Oli down the corridor. Oli followed, a bounce in his step as anticipation welled up inside him. The projects Gyrus had him help with were always interesting, even if they didn’t always work.

They entered the lab, and Oli froze. A woman hung suspended from the wires and machines. Her ethereal blue hair glowed in the dim light of the machine. It fell perfectly around her asymmetrical face, one half covered in soft skin, the other open and gapping to reveal a skull made of metal. She was barely more than a torso and upper arms, metal and wiring sticking out like some half finished machine, waiting for a mechanic to bring it back to life.

“Oli, meet Maria,” Gyrus said as Oli approached the remains of the woman. “She’s a robot from the last realm that I thought we could fix up and try and use on missions.”

He babbled on, talking about the advantages that a nie indestructible robot could have, but Oli wasn’t listening. Carefully he brought his hands up to encompass the woman’s face. Her single eyelid fluttered open, as delicate as the real one her long ago designer had tried to copy, and looked Oli in the eye.

“Hello Maria,” Oli whispered, for only a whisper seemed appropriate in this fragile moment.

“Hello.” She smiled, and Oli felt the whirl of machinery beneath his fingers humming like a pulse. The left side of her face was soft and warm against his skin, the right cool and smooth as steel, but Oli knew as he cradled her in that moment that all of her was undeniably human.

Many days and many nights did he labor over her, sculpting the perfect woman out of stone. And when he finished, he named her Galatea, for the white of her marble skin.

Fixing Maria was the hardest thing Oli had ever done. Her body was more complex than any project he’d ever worked on, and Oli found a new respect for the physicians who tended to the human body, their task was truly daunting if it was anything like the one of metal he and Gyrus labored over.

Every twist of wires, every slight calibration, every metal frame, all required the most delicate touch, lest they damage her beyond repair. She was magnificent though, a true masterpiece. As they inched their way along her body, rebuilding her from the ground up, Oli couldn’t help but wonder if the gods knew him in such intimate detail or if they did not care for the long labor his mother had needed to bring him to life.

Through it all Maria kept up her spirits, laughing and joking about the fine mess she had been reduced to. Oli admired her bravery, because even though she tried to grit her teeth, he knew their every motion caused her pain. She couldn’t hide it from him, even if she wanted to. Oli could see inside her every corner, and he knew when she bit her lip like that the reconnected wire beneath his fingers had burned her.

Gyrus seemed to notice too, and it made him sad, shoulders hanging with the weight of the world. But Maria did not like to see him so morose, and so would laugh or joke to try and lift his spirits.

“How’s your boyfriend?” she asked after a particularly hard operation. Oli blinked, confused. As far as he knew, Gyrus had no interest in anyone, to the great disappointment of many. But to his shock, Gyrus didn’t laugh it off like he usually did. Instead a cherry red blush crept across his face, until even his ears burned a brilliant red.

Oli started, but Maria laughed, throwing her head back in an echoing howl. Gyrus’ ears turned, if it were possible, even redder. “He is not my boyfriend,” he hissed, shooting Oli an alarmed look. Maria laughed again.

“Right, right,” she said, amusement obvious in her voice. “You just hold hands, have sleepovers, spend every waking moment you can together, and talk constantly about him when you can’t. Completely platonic, my bad.”

Up until today Oli hadn’t been certain Gyrus could have those types of feelings, but when Maria put it like that it seemed obvious. There was only one person who Gyrus spent so much time with, one name he slipped into nearly every conversation.

“Are you, talking about Kodya?” he asked, feeling slightly light headed. Gyrus’ eyes widened in alarm.

“There is n-nothing between me and Kodya!” Gyrus shook his head, waving his hands in the air in denial. But Oli noticed the red did not fade.

“Uh, yeah,” Maria rolled her eyes, “because someone’s to cowardly to confess.” Gyrus hid his face in his hands. Oli felt a bit bad for him.

“I’m sure Kodya wouldn’t say no,” he offered, because everyone knew Kodya was in love with Gyrus, and because Oli knew all too well the way insecurity could whisper and ruin someone’s will to ask.

“Really?” Gyrus peaked between his fingers at Oli who tried to smile encouragingly. Maria tried to help, but her clear amusement had the opposite effect. “Gahhh,” Gyrus buried his head back in his hands as he stood up. “I’m going to get more metal!” He squeaked, running from the door before Oli could remind him that he could create anything and they had plenty of ingredients.

“Looks like it's just you and me now,” Maria chuckled, and as Oli turned to her, he realized that they had never been alone before.

The man would talk to his Galatea as if she were a real person.

The silence stretched out far too long as Oli struggled to come up with a topic of conversation. Maria raised an eyebrow, and Oli felt his stomach drop. “Come on, I don’t bite,” she said, and Oli looked down.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered but Maria shook her head, loose hair flopping against skin and metal alike.

“No, no! Don’t apologize! Ask me something! Go ahead, I know you want to!” She smiled at him, and for the first time, Oli wondered if she paid as much attention to them as they did to her. The revelation was disconcerting, but there was something he had been dying to ask.

He cleared his throat nervously and went for it. “What’s it like being a robot?” he said and then flinched at his own daring.

“Yeah I figured that would be the first thing you’d ask.” Maria’s voice caused him to look up. “First thing everyone does,” she added, sounding rueful. Oli clenched the front of his robe, feeling horrible.

“If I had to put it into words, I’d say it's a lot like being human most of the time,” Maria tried to shrug, but the wires holding her steady didn’t let her. She gave a half wince, and Oli stepped forward, hand instinctively raised to stop her.

Maria smiled, a small, sad smile that didn’t fit her usual chipper personality. “There is one difference though. I can survive with a whole lot less than a human can.” Oli’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. Was she talking about food?

Maria saw his confusion and elaborated. “Like blood,” she said. “You need blood to survive. But I don’t. It keeps me warm, but if I were to lose it, I’d still function.”

“That’s horrible,” Oli murmured, trying to imagine living life devoid of warmth, and feeling nothing but cold and hollow.

“Yeah it kind of is,” Maria replied, and Oli snapped his hands over his mouth, realizing how insensitive his words had been. Maria’s gaze softened. “Thanks,” she said. Oli lowered his hands, confused. “Not a lot of people notice that. But hey,-” she shot him a wide smile, more in line with her usual personality, “if I were half as squishy as you, I wouldn’t be here now would I?”

That was true, Oli felt a bit of guilt leave his shoulders. But still. “Maria?” he asked, and the woman turned her blue eyes on him. “What’s your favorite food?”

Maria blinked at him, and Oli felt his lips twitch into a smile.

He would make meals and present a portion to her cold body.

Oli hurried to the lab, a small bag in one hand and a plastic cup in the other. Gyrus wouldn’t be there right now. Oli had asked Kodya to ensure that he stayed that way, citing his worry over Gyrus overworking to ensure Kodya would not let him within ten feet of it. Oli felt a little guilty about using Kodya against Gyrus like that but he shrugged it off. He was going to do this, and he didn’t want Gyrus to stop him.

“Maria!” he called as he pushed his way into the lab. “I brought the food!” He held the little bundle aloft.

“Oh yeah! Bring in the goods!” Maria yelled, face split into a wide grin as her eyes never left the bundle in Oli’s hands. She sucked in a deep breath through her half finished nose as Oli came closer and licked her lips. “Oh man I can smell it, my mouth is watering already.”

“Just a minute,” Oli cautioned as he opened the bundle to reveal the strange wrapped bread and meat sandwich and the slices of deep fried potatoes Maria had painstakingly instructed him how to make. Maria gave a little whimper, and Oli smiled.

Oli took the sandwich first, lifting it with one hand to her face, while the other held the cup up to the bottom of her torso, to the little tube that led directly to her throat. Maria bit into the sandwich eagerly, sharp teeth nearly missing Oli’s fingers. He yelped a bit, but Maria didn’t seem to notice, to wrapped up in chewing to pay attention to Oli.

“Oh man,” she swallowed, and Oli held the cup close to the tube as the mashed up food slipped out. “It has been so long since I ate a burger.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Oli smiled. “I hope it tasted like it's supposed to.”

“Like it's supposed to?” Maria echoed, shooting him an incredulous stare. “It tasted fantastic! Oli you’ve got to be the best chef in the world!” She beamed at him, bits of sauce still stuck to her cheeks, and Oli felt like he was on top of the world.

“Now a fry,” Maria demanded, and Oli obligingly brought one up for her to bite. She took from his fingers, holding it in her mouth by the end, before gulping it down. “Mmmmm,” she groaned as she swallowed, licking the edges of her mouth. “That’s good.”

Oli blushed from the compliment as the remains of the fry slipped into the cup. “If you like it so much, I could always bring you more.”

“It would have to be soon,” Maria frowned. “You and Gyrus are gonna hook up my esophagus soon, and then the only way out will be through my stomach and the intestines.”

“Then I’ll just have to get a bigger cup,” Oli shrugged. He was a mechanic, he could figure something out. But Maria had looked so happy, and he wasn’t going to deny her something that made her feel more human.

“Alright!” Maria cheered, “Now I’ll take another bite of that burger baby! I’m feeling hungry tonight!”

And he would dress her in the finest clothes he could buy.

From then on, Oli would visit Maria whenever he could get away, bringing her food or just keeping her company. He found she was a wonderful companion, whose brash personality and boundless optimism always managed to put life in perspective. Oli couldn’t wait until the project was completed, so he could introduce her to everyone else. He was certain a warm personality like hers would get along with everyone.

He wouldn’t have to wait for much longer though, as he and Gyrus were almost finished. There were just a few final touch ups, and they would be able to take her to meet everyone. Every day Oli was able to remove one of the wires tying her to the machine, and everyday she looked more and more human.

Oli was just unwiring one of the no longer necessary wires, Gyrus left after being radioed by Don for some sort of emergency meeting, when he noticed a shiver run across Maria’s skin.

“You’re cold!” he said, hand hovering over the spot, unsure what to do. Maria gave him a slight smile.

“Yeah well. After you guys added my blood I’ve been able to notice how breezy it can get in here.” She gave a half shrug. “But it's fine. I can handle it.”

“No, no.” Oli shook his head, looking around the room. His eyes landed on a sheet in the corner where it still covered some old inventions in an attempt protect them from dust. He grabbed it and brought it back to Maria. “If you’re cold, we can fix that.”

Maria stared at the sheet with slight apprehension. “I don’t know if that’s going to work, since my arms are all spread out thanks to these wires. the air will just get underneath, not to mention my legs.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Oli smiled, and began to twist the fabric in his hands. Every child in all of Hellas knew how to make a tunic. He carefully wrapped it around her body, mindful of the parts still attached to the wires, and fastened them at her shoulders with rubber bands. For the final touch, he took off his own belt, and slipped it around her waist, tying it so that it would hang down in the fashion his mother had so enjoyed.

“There,” he said, stepping back to admire his handy work, “now you look like a proper Hellenes lady.”

“Wow!” Maria looked down at herself, twisting a leg to brush against the white fabric, causing it to ripple. “I’m not normally a girl that looks good in white, but this is something else Oli!”

“I’m glad you like it,” Oli smiled. “When your final repairs are done, we can get you proper clothes, a whole wardrobe if you want it!”

Maria bit her lip, her exuberant excitement dimming as she was reminded of her immediate future. “When the repairs are done, yeah.”

“Hey,” Oli placed a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes. “Everyone’s going to love you ok? You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Maria smiled at him, warm and kind as the sun. “Yeah,” she said, but Oli got the feeling she didn’t quite agree. No matter. Come tomorrow, she would see it for herself. “Oli?” she added, and for the first time Oli heard a bit of hesitance in her voice.

“Yes?” he smiled.

“Thank you,” she said, blue eyes boring into his. “For everything.”

“Of course,” Oli said. Feeling like something important was being said, but not quite sure what. “What are friends for?”

But no matter what he did, she did not move, speak, or eat. She had no consciousness of what he had done for her. She could not love him, and so he despaired.

Oli knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into the lab. The room was darker because the dim light of the machine had been fully switched off. To the side Gyrus sat, shoulders slumped, when he should have been excited at the project’s near completion. Worst of all, Maria was missing from the center of the room, and in her place was a blackened husk of metal and junk.

Oli felt his heart stop. He took one shaking step towards the pile in the center of the room before collapsing on his knees in front of it. Gyrus started talking in that gentle way of his, about how there had been an accident, an electrical surge that had accidentally fried Maria, and how he was shutting down the project. But Oli wasn’t listening.

He brushed a trembling hand against the dark metal. A part of him expected to feel the electric hum beneath his fingertips. But there was nothing but cold, empty steel. A drop of water landed beside his hand, then another, and Oli gave into his tears as great, ugly sobs racked his body.

Gyrus came to sit beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Oli allowed him to lead him to the bench and rub soothing circles in his back. “There was nothing you could have done Oli,” he said softly.

His words only served to heighten Oli’s despair. “Poor Maria,” he sobbed into his hands as his mind began to torture him with possibilities, “Maybe it was a flaw in my design!”

“Of course not,” Gyrus moved to grip his shoulder. “If you need to blame someone, blame me. But don’t blame yourself. You did everything you could for Maria.”

Oli wished with all his heart he could believe him.

One day the man brought his pleas to the gods, begging them to bring the woman he loved to life. Aphrodite heard him, and moved by his tale, she waved a hand and brought the statue to life.

Oli hurried down the corridor, head spinning. Nephthys was missing, Don was too, and his wheelchair was alone in the infirmary under a pile of rubble. The others were saying Gyrus was to blame, but Oli wasn’t so certain.

He remembered the last thing Nephthys had told him, about how the seven boss swords had been replaced, and how she needed to check on Kodya before getting to the bottom of it all. Now she was gone, and the last place she had been clearly contained signs of a struggle. Awfully convenient that the last person who had known something was amiss happened to die at the hands of madman, even when said madman was monitored so constantly there was no way he could access to the swords to make the switch.

No, something else was going on here, and he was the only one who knew. Which also meant he would be the attacker’s next target. He gulped, and prayed to every god he could think of that his friend would return.

The least he could do he supposed, was fix the infirmary wall. Maybe if he preserved the evidence he could look through for clues. Or at least have somewhere to hide. He stopped in front of it.

The act itself was easy enough, there were plenty of parts lying around in the rubble. In all honesty it took him maybe a minute. There. He turned to walk away, only to hear a vaguely familiar voice coming from behind him.

“... Who could have fixed it already?” the voice cried, sounding frustrated.

“I-I did!” Oli stuttered as he turned, afraid of the danger this strangely familiar voice could offer.

“Huh?” the voice said, and Oli flinched, but raised his eyes to meet the strangers. Her blue hair was swept up in a messy ponytail, her clothes were red and black in a foreign style Oli had never seen before, and she had a white stick of something in her mouth that reminded Oli vaguely of a fry. But there was no mistaking her face, the face Oli had labored painstakingly to fix.

“Maria?!” He exclaimed, hardly believing his own eyes.

“Oli!” she cried, expression brightening with a painfully familiar smile.

A sound came from behind her and her eyes widened, a note of fear in them as her companions glanced backwards. Oli wasted no time. He thrust a hand on the wall and forced the solid rock to give way, allowing her and her companions to flee inside. Then he stepped in himself, closing the wall behind him.

He knew he should turn the intruders over, but he didn’t care. Something was horribly wrong in the Room of Swords, enough so that he would take his chances.

Besides, he thought as he could hear the sounds of confusion coming from the other side. He had lost Maria once. He would not lose her again.

Gatalea threw her arms around the man and embraced him for the first time, and the man, Pgymalion, finally found joy.

#room of swords #room of swords fanfic #ros Oli #ros maria #gyrus #kodya #ros 127 #written in a frenzy

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justaghostingon · 4 years

Text

Merfolk are Overrated

Chapter 4: To The Shore

Kodya’s class takes a fieldtrip, and it goes about as well as can be expected when you let three curious mermaids loose in a general store.

Read on ao3 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041904/chapters/62957779

Or below the cut

As the weeks rolled by, a pattern began to emerge. Kodya would wake up early and go out fishing, just like before. Only now three bright-colored heads would rise from the water to greet him as soon as he cut the engine, the Kid at the forefront with some small gift to appease Kodya. He would still set out the nets, like always. But now a mermaid or two would be there to try and help. Occasionally one, usually Red, would get stuck and need to be cut out. Kodya would still eat his lunches out on the water like always, but now those lunches would be shared by three mermaids chattering and snacking themselves. Even Fluffy would mime out an opinion or two. Then after lunch, Kodya would start teaching.

Gyrus was, by far, the best student Kodya had ever seen. It took him almost no time to learn basic math, and soon he was calculating faster and with greater accuracy than Kodya himself could. Kodya had once tried to explain how budgeting worked to illustrate why his nets were so important, and by that evening Gyrus had completely reorganized his budget to the point where he was saving more money than he’d thought was possible. In all honesty, Kodya was pretty sure Gyrus was some kind of super genius, and found he was rapidly running out of things to teach him.

If he’d only known the Kid, Kodya is pretty sure that he would have chalked up Gyrus’ super-intelligence to just a siren thing. But alas, it appeared that great age did not translate to skill with numbers, as both Fluffy and Red were leagues behind. Not that they were terrible, Kodya begrudgingly noted that if they had been to elementary school together they both have had higher grades than he did. But they needed a slower pace, and often Kodya found he had to slow down the lesson to accommodate them.

If teaching them all math had been their only goal, Kodya would have tried giving Fluffy and Red more class hours while sending the Kid off to do homework or something. But neither Fluffy or Red showed any particular interest in putting extra work into improving their own skills. They’d put up a show to support Gyrus of course, but Fluffy’s constant fidgeting and Red’s frustrated growls made it very clear they did not really want to be there. This in turn made Gyrus get distracted trying to explain and keep them interested, meaning he didn’t advance either. Eventually Kodya just got tired of it and told them to go out and help fish every other afternoon, while he focused on more advanced material with Gyrus.

This they happily accepted, only attending class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and leaving Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays to the Kid and Kodya. Kodya would never admit it, but these days were his favorite. He’d stay out way longer than he usually did, just to keep whatever conversation the Kid inevitably dragged him into going. He hadn’t enjoyed another person’s company this much since he’d met Nephthys.

Nephthys noticed the change in behavior, commenting about how mopey he got while away from the sea, and giggling that he might have gotten a boyfriend he didn’t tell her about. Kodya was quick to deny this, but more than willing to talk about whatever trouble Red, Fluffy, and the Kid got into, under the pretense of being pesky dolphins of course. Such stories would appease her curiosity, and she rarely went beyond light teasing as she watched Kodya inevitably perk up as the weekend drew to a close and Monday neared.

It was on one such Monday that Kodya finally worked up the courage to ask Gyrus a question that had been weighing on him for a while.

“So how old are you anyways?” Kodya said, eyes on the white board as he wrote out a few problems he’d created based off of his and Nephthys’s shopping lists and an old book about store finance.

“Probably around your age,” Gyrus shrugged, to absorbed in his work on the problems to notice the way Kodya had shut the book to look at him sharply.

“And how old do you think I am?” Kodya pressed.

“I don’t know, 200s right?” Gyrus glanced up at him, and finally seemed to realize something was wrong. “Are you older?” He offered, looking embarrassed, and not at all like a being who was most certainly not a kid.

“I’m 24,” Kodya stated, voice flat. Now what am I going to call you? He mentally despaired.

“24?” Gyrus’ mouth fell open. “But you can’t be! You’re clearly an adult!”

“Of course I’m an adult!” Kodya crossed his arms, “I’ve been an adult for six years!”

“18?” Gyrus’ tail twitched in agitation. “Humans reach maturity so young? How long do you live?”

Kodya shifted uncomfortably at his tone, feeling slightly offended. He wasn’t the weird one here. “We live to be around 80? Some a bit less and some a bit longer, you know, a normal amount.”

“That’s so short,” Gyrus shook his head. “I can’t even…how can you stand it?”

“Hey!” Kodya scowled down at Gyrus, “Most creatures live way shorter life spans, so I’d say you living so long is the weird one here. We do just fine with 80 years thanks.”

Gyrus placed his head in his hands. “Every time I think I’m beginning to understand humans, I find out there’s so much more I don’t know.” He looked very small then, and forlorn. Kodya felt his anger dissipate.

“Look, Kid,” he said, drawing the last word on his tongue to see if Gyrus would notice and protest. He didn’t, and so Kodya plowed on. “You’re doing fine. You’ve learned everything I taught you way quicker than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“Not everything,” Gyrus sighed as he picked up his whiteboard. “I can do the calculations, sure, but I don’t really get all the words. Like this one,” he pointed to a problem, “35 cents for bananas. What are bananas? I know they must be food from how you talk about them, but I have no idea what they look like. And this!” He jabbed a finger at one of the words, “Bug spray! How do you get something as small as a bug to spray anything?”

“Slow down Kid,” Kodya interrupted and Gyrus deflated at the sound of his voice. “I can bring you a banana and bug spray if you want.”

“But even if you did, there would inevitably be something else I can’t picture or misunderstand. I just wish,” he sighed again, pulling his emerald tail close around his body. “I just wish I could see it all for myself.”

His lower lip started to tremble, and Kodya felt his heart clench at the sight. “Maybe you could,” he said, and then instantly wanted to hit himself for promising something so impossible. But Gyrus was looking at him with wide, watery eyes like Kodya just promised him the moon, and Kodya couldn’t bring himself to deny him anything.

----------------

The old shed opened with the loud grating noise of rusted hinges. Kodya winced slightly at the sound, before pushing forward into the crowded space before him. Nephthys had said the inflatable kiddie pool was just in here the last time she’d seen it. But that had been nearly seven years ago, back when she’d tried to teach him how to swim in exchange for teaching her written English. Those lessons had not lasted very long, in part because Kodya was much less gracious as a student than as a teacher, and in part because the drowning incident had still been fresh in his mind.

He shoved aside The fishing rod he’d gotten for his Mom at fifteen, still as clean and unused as the day he’d bought it, and some of her old Navy Seal camping gear. Where was it? It should be with the practical stuff…

Something bright and pink caught his eye, the faded plastic tucked quietly in a corner behind some old storage bins. Kodya waded over towards it and gave it a gentle tug, pulling out of another box labeled POOL in his mother’s loopy handwriting. He pulled the cumbersome plastic out, and stopped.

There was something else in the bin, soft against his hands. Weird. He couldn’t think of anything pool related that was soft, and his mother was usually so organized. He looked down to see a strange fur wrap below. It was plain brown, with faded spots making a star pattern along it. One edge was jagged and sharp, with bits of leather skin poking out below it. Kodya ran a finger down the edge, and wondered if someone had taken a blunt knife to it.

The plastic of the pool rustled against the boxes as Kodya shifted, drawing his attention back towards it. He shut the pool box with a snap. Whatever it was, it didn’t concern him. His mother could sort it out on her own time. He had a mermaid’s day to make.

---------

“I’m back!” Kodya called as two brightly colored heads appeared in the water. “And you’ll never believe what I brought for you today!”

Gyrus beamed at him, and Kodya took a minute to examine that lovely smile and enjoy how it was all for him. “We’ve got something to show you too!” the Kid exclaimed, “Do you want to see it?”

“Sure Kid,” Kodya allowed himself a slight twitch of his lips, wondering what seaglass or shells Gyrus had brought for him today. “But I’ll bet mine’s better.”

Red and the Kid exchanged glances, before Red sighed. “Just so we are clear,” she said, “I do not fully approve of this idea.” So saying, she dove into the water, and in her place rose a single white corner, then another and another, until there was a great white box with a handle sticking out the side.

Kodya blinked. “What is that supposed to be?” He asked, squinting at the sides. Something about the faded pink stickers looked familiar. Was that ice cream?

“It’s a box with wheels!” Gyrus proclaimed, gesturing to the suspiciously familiar object. Kodya raised an eyebrow, and the Kid blushed. “Lift it higher!” Gyrus hissed, and the white box raised above the water, allowing for both the wheels and Fluffy’s head to come into view.

“See?” Gyrus’ purple orbs practically glowed. Beside him Fluffy beamed and even Red looked a bit smug.

“I see,” said Kodya, feeling somewhat baffled. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“That’s the best part!” the Kid’s green tail surfaced to slash the top of the water excitedly. It went straight into Tori’s face and she sputtered, causing one end to dip back into the water. “This box holds water! Without it coming out! If you put me in this I could come with you to shore!”

Well that diminished Kodya’s surprise a bit. He felt a bit hurt. He’d put a lot of thought into his kiddie pool. But he shook it off in favor of squinting at the white cart. It was looking more and more familiar the more he stared.

“Is that,-” he frowned, “- Oli’s ice cream cart?!” Oli’s ice cream was a staple on the beach in the summer months, and he’d recently upgraded to owning a portable cart that he employed Anan to push around and increase business. But Anan had lost it under what he claimed was a sudden storm. Kodya narrowed his eyes. “Did you hypnotize Anan into giving that up?”

“We didn’t hypnotize anyone,” Red sniffed. “This was a gift.”

“We just asked, and he handed it right over!” Gyrus added. “He didn’t even stop to question why we were all in the water!”

Fluffy batted her eyelashes and then threw Kodya a wink, and Kodya had the sneaking suspicion that they had used a different method of coercion instead. But hey, he shrugged. Oli hadn’t held that much of a grudge, and it was high time Anan learned a lesson about not giving in to the whims of every pretty girl that smiled at him.

“So what was it you brought for us?” Gyrus asked innocently, and all three mermaids' attention snapped to him.

“Oh,” Kodya rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I kinda brought something similar, only bigger, and with no wheels.”

“Really?” Gyrus beamed. “That’s great! Now we can all go on land!” All? Kodya opened his mouth to protest. He could hide maybe one mermaid, but three?

“That would set some of my fears to rest,” Red said, sounding appeased. “I did not want to leave Gyrus to wander this strange world without protection.”

Fluffy began bobbing up and down in the water, splashing wildly with the ice cream cart to show her enthusiasm.

I’m not getting out of this, Kodya realized with a sinking dread as all three mermaids celebrated around him. I need a plan.

--------------

The plan was simple. Really. Early in the morning, Kodya would meet the three mermaids at the docks. There was a rainstorm scheduled for Thursday, perfect for both providing cover and keeping the mermaids wet. Kodya would load the three of them into the back of his truck, where they would climb into the kiddy pool. Then Kodya would drive really slowly into town, pull out the white cart, now covered in a blanket to pass as a wheelchair, and wheel each mermaid through the store. Simple.

The first part went off without a hitch. It was indeed raining on Thursday morning, the icky, thick, constant rain that made it very uncomfortable to be outside for long periods of time. When Kodya arrived on the dock, he found it deserted. Perfect.

“Guys?” he hissed as he scanned the dark waves. “It’s time.” Three multicolored heads rose from below the dock to greet him.

“That took too long,” Red grumbled. “I had half thought ye’d grown cold feet.”

“It took longer to fill the pool than I expected,” Kodya sighed. “Now come on.” He extended his arms towards Fluffy, who was closest.

Red batted his hand away. “I’ll go first,” she snapped. “It is my duty as champion of the queen to ensure the safety of the rest of the pod.” Kodya rolled his eyes, but complied, hauling her surprisingly light body up into the air. Sylvia went next, eagerly wrapping strong arms around his neck as he lifted her up into the truck too.

And then at last, it was Gyrus’ turn. Kodya reached down for him, determined not to react. It was just a simple assist after all. Kodya could feel both warm skin and slick scales as he carefully lifted him into the air. Gyrus’ arms wrapped around Kodya’s neck, pulling close to Kodya’s chest and soaking his already wet shirt further.

Gyrus ran a curious hand through his hair, playing with the hair tie in the back. “You’re hair feels so strange dry,” He murmured, lavender orbs hypnotic. Their faces were inches apart, and Kodya froze. They hadn’t been this close since the day they met, when Gyrus had called him perfect, and the mere memory sent Kodya’s whole face alight. Gyrus gave the slightest of frowns as he ran gentle fingers through Kodya’s hair. “What’s wrong?”

“If ye are quite finished,” Tori’s loud voice broke through Kodya’s haze, “the sooner we start this, the sooner we can get back to the sea.”

Kodya yelped, placing Gyrus hastily in the back of the truck and ducking his head as he hurried to the front. Still bright red, he gripped the back of the wheel and took several deep breaths. He needed to focus damn it. Or this whole trip would end in disaster.

Disaster…the various, horrible ends of this hair brained scheme were enough to bring him back to reality. If he messed up here, the mermaids could end up in an aquarium, or worse, dissected. He took a deep breath and put the truck in drive. By the time he’d reached the store, the image of Gyrus’ face so close to his own was properly suppressed in the back of his mind.

---------

Step two turned out to have its own set of problems. Namely that as soon as he put the truck in park, he found the mermaids arguing in the back about who would go in first.

“It will be I,” Red’s arms were crossed. “It’s my job to keep you safe, there’s no point in arguing.”

“You don’t even want to see the store!” Gyrus scowled. “Nor do you know as much about humans as I do! And besides,” he crossed his arms, “I’ll be with Kodya so there’s no need to protect me!” He glanced to the side. “Right Sylvia?”

Fluffy threw up her hands in a clear signal of, keep me out of this!

“What’s the problem now?” Kodya massaged the space between his brow. Both Red and the Kid turned on him.

“I am going first, and that is final,” Red snapped at the same time Gyrus said,

“It isn’t fair!”

Kodya sighed, considering. On the one hand, letting Red go first would strengthen the fragile trust they had formed. On the other hand, the Kid was far, far too old to be babied like Red wanted, and going first with Red meant introducing her to Alistair. Kodya squared his shoulders. He’d rather avoid whatever fight she’d pick for as long as possible.

“It’s the Kid’s trip, he gets to go first,” he said, and Red scowled while Gyrus lit up.

“Alright!” Gyrus pulled himself to the edge of the truck to avoid the angry Red. “Help me down and let’s get going!”

“Not so fast kid!” Kodya scolded. “I’ve got to get the wheelchair ready first.” He pulled out the ice cream cart and opened the lid, revealing the cold water he’d taken from his hose the night before.

Carefully, he picked Gyrus up again, this time avoiding eye contact, and plopped him inside. Access water flooded over the edge and distracted the Kid while Kodya tried to hide his blush. To distract himself, he fiddled with the lid, wondering how it would close without bothering the top sticking out.

“This is so exciting!” Gyrus turned to Kodya, eyes shining. Kodya’s hands tightened on the lid at the sight, and a crack came from underneath them. Both Gyrus and Kodya looked down at the now unattached lid. Well, Kodya thought. There goes that problem.

The blanket was thrown over the top to hide the water and the faded ice cream stickers, and the makeshift wheelchair was ready to go. There was just one thing missing. “Here.” Kodya pulled out an old shirt and handed it to Gyrus. “Humans can’t go in stores without full clothing,” he explained, trying to make it seem normal and not like he’d spent hours agonizing over which one of his old shirts to give to Gyrus.

“Thank you,” Gyrus murmured, pulling the bright yellow shirt, specifically chosen to match the yellow tips of his tail, over his head. “Yellow is my favorite color.” Kodya shrugged as casually as he could, but tucked that little piece of information away in his brain.

“Time to go,” he said, stepping behind the cart pushing it towards the door.

---------

As Kodya predicted, Gyrus loved the store. He found everything about it fascinating. From the food to the overpriced towels and swimwear for tourists. Kodya thought he would explode when he found the nets Kodya usually bought and recognized them. He wanted to know how everything worked, what it all did, and why Kodya would or wouldn’t buy it. The towels in particular fascinated him, as he had known humans hated to be too wet, but he’d never realized what a big deal it was until he saw all the different patterns and colors. He was quite disappointed when Kodya broke it to him that the colors and patterns were purely decorative, and didn’t hold any significance at all.

Eventually they got down to business. Kodya walked Gyrus through his grocery list, explaining what each item looked like and what it did. Gyrus seemed to have memorized the prices, and was more than eager to read off the numbers and comment on cheaper options available. Kodya would then have to justify his choice, usually because of quality, and explain it to an attentive Gyrus. It was a long process, but Kodya didn’t think he’d ever had this much fun shopping for groceries before.

But as Kodya finished explaining about bananas and how they worked, he noticed Gyrus’ mood had taken a turn for the morose.

“What’s wrong?” Kodya asked, as Gyrus stared glumly down at the bunch of bananas in his hands. “Am I going too fast?”

“No, no,” Gyrus sighed. “It’s stupid.” Kodya crossed his arms, waiting, and Gyrus shifted the bananas into one hand to run the free one through his hair. “It’s not that I’m not grateful you brought me here so I could see everything, it’s just,” he peaked up at Kodya through his starshaped bangs, “there’s so much of it. I’ll never learn it all today, even if we didn’t have to hurry up and give Tori and Sylvia their turn.”

“Who said you had to learn it all today?” Kodya pointed out. “We’ve got the pool and the wheelchair now. We can definitely come back here again.”

“But it won’t always be raining,” Gyrus pointed out. “You might get seen helping us out of the water.”

Kodya waved a hand as he began to push Gyrus forward. “We’ll just have to figure out another way then. You’re smart. You know what the hurdles are, you come up with something.”

Gyrus shot Kodya a small smile. “Thank you Kodya,” he said. “You really are the best person to teach me.” Kodya ducked his head and pushed harder, trying to hide his blush.

“Kodya? Is that you? I thought I recognized you wandering about my store!” Kodya’s head snapped up to see Alistair waving from the counter. Oh no. “But who is this handsome stranger you’ve brought with you?” Alistair practically jumped over the counter to see better. It took all of Kodya’s strength not to grab the cart's controls and wheel them both out the door.

“Careful Alistair!” Kodya shouted as the man stepped closer and began shamelessly feeling up Gyrus’ muscles. “He’s in a wheelchair!” He pushed Alistair away as Gyrus starred with a look of absolute puzzlement on his face.

“Of course, of course!” Alistair said as he stepped back to lean on his counter. “What’s your name, handsome?”

“I’m Gyrus,” Gyrus said, sounding faintly amused. “Nice to meet you.”

“A pleasure! An absolute pleasure! I am Alistair, and this is my humble store!” Alistair gave a sweeping gesture to encompass the whole building. Kodya rolled his eyes at his theatrics.

“Are you really?” Gyrus asked, sounding intrigued. “Where do you get all the items for sale?”

“Trying to find my sources? How shameless,” Alistair raised an eyebrow and Gyrus blushed, sensing he’d done something wrong. Kodya scowled. “But don’t worry!” Alistair laughed. “My sources are all local, like our charming mutual friend, Kodya here!” He pointed to Kodya who crossed his arms.

“I don’t supply you that often,” Kodya grumbled.

“Oh come now Kodya, don’t be modest.” Alistair winked, he leaned over to Gyrus and whispered, “He caught me a great white shark, I still have the teeth if you want to buy them!”

“I know,” Gyrus smiled. “But I don’t need another shark’s tooth.”

“Another?” Alistair drew back in shock, mouth hanging open. He glanced wildly between Gyrus and Kodya. “You don’t mean to tell me our grumpy Kodya snagged a stud like you?”

“We aren’t dating Alistair,” Kodya stepped in before Gyrus had a chance to misunderstand. “I’m just showing him around while he’s in the states.”

“So he’s single?” Alistair said, and Kodya felt his heart stop.

“Kodya’s been really kind to me!” Gyrus piped up, clearly hoping to back up the illusion of being new to the area. “He’s taught me so much about these states!”

“Oh really? And what has he taught you?” Alistair leaned forward into Gyrus’ personal space.

“Lots! I’ve learned about money, and the presidents on the bills, and dinosaurs…” Gyrus began to rattle off all the things he’d recently learned while Alistair took the opportunity to stare shamelessly at his lips.

Kodya rolled his eyes, disgusted, then froze. Out of the corner of his eye he could have sworn he’d seen a blue tail.

-----------

Kodya stalked through the store, following the telltale trail of water down the aisles. He hated to leave the Kid alone with Alistair, but he trusted him to be able to handle himself and keep Alistair distracted while Kodya hunted down their real problem.

Speaking of which, he turned a corner to find one half of the dynamic duo munching happily away on the fish in the deli. “Fluffy!” Kodya hissed, as the pink-haired mermaid turned her wide eyes on him. “What are you doing here? And where’s Red?” He’d seen a blue tail, and unless Fluffy had changed her forest green scales blue and back in the last minute, there was no way she was alone.

Fluffy shrugged, gesturing to the fish in front of her to say, I don’t know, I got distracted by the food.

Kodya cursed, striding forward to grab Fluffy bodily and drag her away with a cry of, “you aren’t supposed to be here!” His motion startled Fluffy, whose tail whipped around and knocked the whole deli over, sending the whole display of fish directly on top of her.

Kodya and Fluffy froze. Panicked blue meeting panicked brown. For a second all was still, until in the silence the clunking sound of heavy boots began to fill the air. Fluffy sprang into action, covering herself with the fish in an attempt to blend in. Kodya helped, figuring that if whoever was coming mistook her tail for another fish they might just by themselves some time.

They had just finished when Knox, an employee of Alistair’s store, rounded the corner. “I heard a loud noise, and have been instructed to look for damages,” he said in that monotone voice of his.

Kodya could have cried with relief. If there was one word that summed Knox up, it was gullible. “Don’t just stand there!” He snapped, putting on his most thunderous expression. “Get the first aid kit!” Knox paused, eyes traveling from Kodya’s face to Sylvia’s fish covered tail, to her big puppy dog eyes about to overflow with tears.

“I will retrieve it,” he said, voice still montone, but there was a quickness in his step that betrayed his concern. As soon he turned the corner Kodya let out a relieved sigh.

Fluffy beamed up at Kodya, clearly ecstatic that it had worked. Kodya frowned back at her. “We still need to get out of here before he gets back,” he pointed out.

Fluffy rolled her eyes with the clear message of, you worry too much. And no Kodya wasn’t having that. He grabbed her arm and tugged it upwards.

“Come on,” he said as Fluffy obligingly circled her arms around his neck so he could lift her up. “We’ve got to find Red and get out of here before he comes back.”

“Before who comes back?” Kodya and Fluffy’s heads snapped to the right to see Tori emerging from the towel section. “And what was that noise?”

“What were you thinking!” Kodya felt his fury return in full force. “You knew you had to wait in the truck!” Fluffy looked down guiltily, but Red crossed her arms.

“I am the Champion of the Queen.” She scowled. “It is my duty to keep Gyrus safe. You were taking too long.”

“Gyrus is perfectly fine!” Kodya hissed, taking a step forward. “But now thanks to you two, I had to leave him alone, and now I have to get you out of here before anyone sees your tails and calls the press!”

Red drew herself up to her full height, which given half of her was a floppy fishtail, wasn’t that impressive. “I am perfectly capable of…” But Fluffy held up a hand to stop her, cocking her ear as if listening. Kodya and Tori followed her example, and Kodya’s heart stopped once again.

Footsteps.

Red dove towards the racks of towels as Kodya looked around wildly for a place to stash Fluffy. Could he throw her back into the fish?

Too soon the footsteps came to a halt. Kodya froze as a very familiar voice said, “Kody?”

Slowly Kodya turned around to see Nephthys standing in the aisle, eyes wide as she took in Red half hidden behind the towels and Fluffy still in Kodya’s arms. “Neph, I can explain,” he started, but she shook her head.

“Alistair is coming!” She said as she pulled out her purse. “Distract him while I fix this!” Kodya wanted to argue he’d be better able to carry both mermaids, wanted to ask why she wasn’t reacting, but the look in her eyes told him not to argue. He wordlessly handed off Fluffy and hurried back to where Alistair and Gyrus were waiting.

“Kodya!” Alistair called out. “What was that all about?”

“You just left,” Gyrus added, a bit reproachfully. “Then we heard a huge crash.”

Kodya waved a hand. “An accident. But don’t worry, Nephthys is taking care of it.” He shot Gyrus a look that he hoped communicated, help me distract him.

Alistair was still frowning, concern clear on his face. “I should still check it out, someone could have been hurt.”

“You really don’t have to,” Kodya said, and Gyrus added,

“Didn’t you say you can’t leave the counter to avoid losing a sale?”

Alistair stroked his beard, looking torn. “This is true, but I really can’t ignore people hurt in my store…” his face split into a sly grin that made Kodya’s stomach drop. “So Gyrus, you’re hired!”

“I’m what?” Gyrus stared in confusion.

“Wait a minute!” Kodya protested. “You can’t just hire Gyrus!” He was a mermaid for one, with a tail and no social security!

“Why not?” Alistair beamed. “He’s got all the qualifications: He has an understanding of basic math, thinks Andrew Jackson isn’t worthy of his position on the twenty dollar bill, and best of all, he’s really cute!” Alistair winked at Kodya and turned to Gyrus, “So what do you say? I’ll pay you an entry level salary, but with your brain and looks you’re likely to get promoted no problem!”

“You’ll pay me?” Gyrus blinked. “In money?”

Alistair opened his mouth to reply, an amused smile on his lips, just as Nephthys rounded the corner with Fluffy on her shoulder and another woman with red hair helping Nephthys support her. “Time to go Kody!”

Kodya wasted no time, grabbing Gyrus’s wheelchair’s handles as Gyrus scrambled for the grocery bags and began wheeling him out after the three women.

“Wait a minute,” Alistair started, “What happened?” But Nephthys waved her free hand behind her.

“Got it handled, take care of the mess and bill me!” She cried as she pushed through the door, a towel wrapped over Fluffy’s tail as she and the familiar looking stranger carried her out. Kodya and Gyrus followed, leaving a confused Alistair behind as they stepped into the open air.

“Where’s Red?” Kodya asked as soon as they got to the safety of the truck. He and the blue-tailed mermaid never saw eye to eye, but he didn’t want to leave her stuck in there.

“I’m right here,” snapped the woman with the red hair, “or have you gone blind?” Kodya blinked, and blinked again, his brain not catching up with his eyes. His gaze traveled down, from her distinctive red hair, to her odd plated shirt, to the towel tied around her waist, and her….

“You have legs!” Gyrus screamed, finger pointing in shock. Kodya blinked again, and yes. That was what his brain was struggling to comprehend. Before them both stood Red, on two legs and looking utterly human.

Tori placed a hand on her hip. “Yes, thanks to the potion the witch gave me.” She gestured to Nephthys with her other hand.

Kodya’s eyes flicked to Nephthys, and she gave him jazz hands with an awkward smile. “Surprise?”

#room of swords #room of swords fanfic #kodya #gyrus #sylvia #tori #strawbarrow #mermaid au #menfolk are overrated

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justaghostingon · 4 years

Text

The Proposal: The Second Attempt

Note: Don is the worst third wheel in the world

Kodya tugged at the edge of the tee-shirt Don had lent him until his own clothes dried out. It was too small, but it was better than nothing. At least he still had the ring, now hidden in the picnic basket he carried over his arm.

Gyrus grinned at him. “So where to now?” He gestured to the redbrick street before them, his back to the treacherous lake.

“I was planning on taking a walk through the beach town.” Kodya shifted the picnic basket so he could walk easier. “You remember how I used to come back here to visit you after you saved me?”

“Every day of summer!” Gyrus laughed, eyes twinkling at the memory. “You were so young back then! Like a puppy following me around.”

“I grew up!” Kodya scowled.

“Yeah but it took you a few years.” Gyrus jabbed a playful finger at Kodya’s chest.

Kodya rolled his eyes as he caught Gyrus’s hand in his own. “Anyways,” he said as he linked their fingers. “We really got to know each other on this street. I think I fell in love with you here. So I thought we should walk down it again together.”

“Oh Kodya,” Gyrus’s expression melted. He leaned forward. Kodya leaned down and...

“Kodya! Gyrus!” Don cried out, causing them both to jump a part.

“What is it Don?” Gyrus asked through gritted teeth.

“It seems my car won’t start.” Don rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “Could you give me a lift?”

Gyrus looked ready to bite his head off, so Kodya quickly cut in. “There’s a car shop up the street a bit where I used to work in college. If you ask for Bronzo, he’ll give you a jump for sure.” He gave Don his most reassuring smile.

“Is there?” Don laughed. “It's been so long since I last wandered around this area. Would you mind showing me the way? I’ll be discreet.”

Now the last thing Kodya wanted to do was let Don follow him around while he was trying to romance Gyrus, but Don had done so much for them already...

“Sure,” he said, a fake smile on his lips.

“We’ll get you there in record speed,” Gyrus added through his teeth.

-------------------

Walking down the street hand in hand with Gyrus brought back a flood of memories. There was the ice cream parlor where he had insisted on paying for Gyrus’s ice cream as “thanks” for something or another but was really just an excuse to treat him. The odds and ends clothing shop Gyrus had dragged him to make fun of the ridiculous hats and dare each other to try them on. That loose brick he’d fallen over and landed face first into the baking competition’s prize pies.

It had been the first time he heard Gyrus laugh, and that musical sound had been worth all the angry Moms and a lifetime banishment from all statewide baking competitions. He caught Gyrus’s eye and pointed towards it, “Do you remember...?

“Oops!” Don tripped over the brick, giving a little jump before finding his footing. “They really need to get that fixed don’t they?” He grinned at Kodya and Gyrus.

“Don...” Gyrus sighed. “What happened to being discreet?”

“Oh right, right,” Don waved his hand. “Don’t worry! You’ll never know I’m here!” He gave them a thumbs up and wandered over to the ice cream parlor’s window.

Kodya frowned as he watched Don strike up a conversation with a young woman and her son right in front of the door. “Do you want some ice cream?” he offered Gyrus half-heartedly. Don shifted slightly to the right, so that it was now impossible to get in without being drawn into conversation.

“I think I’ll pass,” Gyrus shot a dark look at Don’s one man barricade. When he realized Kodya was watching him, he quirked an eyebrow and patted the picnic basket teasingly. “No point in eating sweets before the big meal.”

“Of course,” Kodya smiled. Gyrus pulled him forward, towards the hat shop. “Why don’t we go in there again?” He smiled. “Remember that ridiculous peacock one you bet me to wear?”

“Only after you made me wear that bright green circus hat!” Kodya laughed and allowed Gyrus to pull him along. It would be fun to go inside again, and who knows, maybe he could even...

“Gyrus!” Don called from his place beside the lady and her son. “You’ll never believe it! This woman is from Washington D.C! Isn’t that where you did your internship?”

“Oh for the love of...” Gyrus grit his teeth into a forced smile as he turned to Don. “It’s a big city, I’m sure she’s never been to the part I was in.”

“Now, now!” Don laughed as he beckoned Gyrus over with one finger. “No need to be shy! I’m sure everyone’s heard of NASA!” He practically shouted the last word. Kodya winced. Here it comes.

The little boy stopped eating his ice cream to stare at Gyrus with wide eyes. “You’ve been to space?” he asked, eyes wide as saucers.

A space fan. Of course he is, thought Kodya. Gyrus’s shoulders sagged as he replied. “Yes.”

“Really?” The boy exclaimed, uncaring of how his ice cream dripped all over the red bricks of the street. “Tell me everything!” His mother put a hand on his shoulder.

“Neil stop bothering the man,” she started to say.

“Oh its no bother at all!” Don replied, “Right Gyrus?” The boy peaked up at Gyrus, eyes shining.

Gyrus glanced up at Kodya, eyes filled with guilt. “Go on,” Kodya gave him a slight nudge. “I know how much you like showing off to kids.”

Gyrus pulled away reluctantly and began to launch into his, “I was in space” story. The boy and his mother were hanging on to every word, but Kodya, who had heard it a hundred times, found he couldn’t concentrate. His attention was caught by a street performer setting up shop on the corner.

An idea began to form in the back of Kodya’s mind. On his first date, he and Gyrus had danced together to a street performer on that exact corner. He placed the picnic basket on the ground and quietly broke off from the conversation. Everyone else was too absorbed in Gyrus’s story to notice as he drifted over to the street performer and whispered a song in his ear.

The player nodded, and Kodya grinned.

The melody started off faint as Gyrus’s story drew to a close, but Kodya saw his ears prick up. “I know this song!” Gyrus exclaimed to the confused mother and son, lifting his head and looking around for its source.

Kodya grinned as he stepped forward to offer Gyrus his hand. “Can I have this dance?” Gyrus took his hand and beamed. “Excuse us,” Kodya smiled at the woman and her son, and left them standing bewildered beside Don.

They spun together, laughing as the music washed over them. Their feet moving in a familiar rhythm. They must have looked ridiculous, neither of them were very good dancers, but Kodya couldn’t bring himself to care.

All last notes of the song began to fade away, leaving only the two of them, swaying in each other's arms. Gyrus pulled him close, cheeks a flame, and everything was perfect.

“Gyrus,” he murmured, Gyrus looked up at him through his bangs, expectant.

“Are you saying I don’t know how to play?” the street musician shouted. Gyrus and Kodya jumped.

“Of course not!” Don held up his hands in defense. “Only that perhaps you should tune your instrument a bit more, for its own sake.”

“Who do you think you are?” the street musician snarled. Oh no. Kodya thought. Don don’t you dare.

Don shrugged. “Just a fellow enthusiast of the fine craft of music,” he said like he wasn’t going to follow it with an incredibly long lecture on his experience in a moderately popular band in his youth.

Gyrus nudged Kodya with his shoulder and put a finger to his lips. Quietly he began to back away. Bending down to grab the picnic basket, Kodya cast one look back at Don, still fighting with the street performer. Then he pulled himself upright and took off running after Gyrus, picnic basket bouncing on his arm.

----------------------

Gyrus finally stopped at the entrance to the Dunes park. He leaned over, hands on his knees, panting. “Good idea Kodya,” he said with a grin. “A street musician was the perfect way to distract Don.”

“S-sure,” Kodya replied, not sure how to point out that wasn’t his plan at all. He almost felt bad for Don, who now had to look for the car shop himself, but then he remembered all the trouble he caused, and all sympathy evaporated.

“So where to next?” Gyrus asked as he pulled himself upright. “I’m assuming you’ve got a place you want to eat that,” he added, eyeing the picnic basket with a look of hunger.

Kodya felt his own stomach growl. “Actually you lead us to the right area, I was going to have a picnic at...”

“The ugly tree,” Gyrus finished for him, a wistful smile on his lips. “Where we had our first dinner date.”

“You got it!” Kodya hoisted the picnic basket higher. “What do you say when we get there and get eating?”

The tree wasn’t too far into the park, just up a dune with a clear view of the lake below. It was empty, except for a few Canadian geese milling about nearby. Kodya and Gyrus quickly set up the blanket. Then Gyrus reclined while Kodya fiddled with the basket.

“I could help you know,” Gyrus laughed, but Kodya pulled it close to his chest and shook his head.

“I’ve got it,” he insisted. And I don’t want you to find the ring by mistake, he added mentally.

“If you say so,” Gyrus chuckled, leaning back.

Kodya reached in the basket, fishing around for the first course. He found it near the bottom. It felt slightly wet, and for a second he panicked, until he realized it was just the leftover water from the ring’s box. Was water bad for rings? He wished he’d paid more attention when the shop teacher in high school had talked about gold. It hadn’t mattered to cars, so he hadn’t bothered to remember.

He shook his head and pulled out the box of Mandu. No time to worry about that now. He passed it over to Gyrus with a grin. “First course, good sir,” he said in his most over the top British accent.

“Mandu!” Gyrus grabbed the box with eager hands. Then he stopped, and gave a slight bow. “Why thank you, kind sir.”

“You’ve got the accent wrong,” Kodya laughed as Gyrus stuffed a Mandu in his mouth, crumbs falling everywhere.

“Better than yours,” Gyrus shot back, crumbs spraying around him. Kodya grinned as he bit into his own Mandu. It tasted like Gyrus, just like always.

They finished off the Mandu in silence, enjoying the food and each other’s company. When they’d each had their three, Kodya moved to pick up the box and put it back in the basket. He noticed something odd. An extra Mandu was laying in the bottom, untouched.

“I thought I only bought six,” he murmured as he pulled it out.

“Maybe the shopkeeper thought you were cute and slipped you an extra,” Gyrus offered, leaning forward on his arms.

Kodya rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. She had to be ancient.”

“There you go then.” Gyrus clutched his chest. “You naughty boy! Breaking elderly hearts left and right! Should I be jealous?” He fluttered his lashes.

“Shut up!” Kodya gave him a light shove. Gyrus bounced back, wide grin entirely unrepentant. Kodya held out the Mandu to him. “Here, take it.”

“Oh I couldn’t take a declaration of love from you Kodya! Have you no pity for the poor old woman who made it just for you?” Gyrus sighed in mock disappointment.

Kodya felt his cheeks burn as he shoved the Mandu in Gyrus’s face. “Just take it. It's your favorite.” Gyrus blinked, hand coming up to take the Mandu from Kodya.

“There’s another solution to this problem,” he grinned. Opening his mouth wide, he bit the Mandu in half, and then held the rest up to Kodya a smirk on his lips. “Share?”

Kodya narrowed his eyes. If that was how they were gonna play it...He reached up to grab Gyrus’s wrist, pulling him forward. Not breaking eye contact, he pulled Gyrus’s Mandu covered fingers up, opening his mouth...

Smack! A large weight slammed into his head, knocking him sideways. He gasped for breath as pain blossomed behind his skull. He shook his head, vision swimming, to see a great brown blob standing between him and Gyrus.

What?

The blob gave a great “Honk!” as it threw back it’s head and swallowed the leftover Mandu whole. Kodya blinked again, vision returning in time to see the Canadian goose and two of its friends dive at a helpless Gyrus.

Gyrus gave a shriek and tried to bat them off, kicking one in the chest and hitting another, but it did no good. There were too many converging, beaks pecking at all exposed skin. Kodya gave a scream of rage and threw himself over Gyrus, punching a goose solidly in the beak. It fell back, but quickly shook off the hit.

What are these things even made of? Kodya thought as two more dove at his head. Gyrus landed a kick on one and sent it reeling backwards. He pulled himself up and looked over Kodya’s shoulder, eyes blown wide.

“The picnic basket!” he cried. Kodya whirled around to see two fat geese attempting to fly off with it. The ring! Kodya thought, diving after it. His fingers clasped on the edge, and he tightened his grip, splinters digging into his hands.

The birds shrieked at the added weight, tugging harder at the handle. Kodya refused to let go, to lose the ring to two Canadian geese of all things. The basket strained between them, woven handle straining and breaking, one strand at a time, until it snapped completely. The momentum sent the birds catapulting into the air, and Kodya backwards onto the grass.

Sensing weakness, the birds converged on his helpless form. He swung the picnic basket blindly, left and right. Then Gyrus was beside him. “Jump!” he yelled.

Kodya jumped, and Gyrus pulled up the blanket, tossing it on a whole flock of fat geese. They struggled and fought beneath it, trying to figure out a way out. Gyrus wasted no time. He grabbed Kodya’s hand and ran through the open spot the blanket attack had left in the ranks of the enemy.

The geese gave chase, and Kodya ran down, hand in hand with Gyrus, swinging the picnic basket at any geese that got too close. As the long road back to the safety of their car loomed before him, Kodya realized dully he had missed yet another chance to propose.

#room of swords #room of swords fanfic #kodya #kodya karevic #gyrus #gyrus axelei #ros don #don santiago #modern au #the proposal #strawbarrow #gyrus x kodya

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justaghostingon · 4 years

Text

The Fallen of the Goddess

“Are you sure about this sister?” Isis asked, her voice gentle and filled with concern. “You know if you take a mortal host, you will not be able to leave her body until she dies.”

“I know.” Nephthys looked down at the small human child between them, eyes wide and black. Even though the baby was newly born, she stared upward with the solemnity of the wisest of priests. Nephthys knew she could not see the two goddesses standing above her, deciding her fate, and yet those black eyes seemed to catch Nephthys’s own and stare into her soul. “But it is what I want.”

Isis sighed. “I do not understand your choice sister,” she said as she raised her hands, glowing green from the excess power. “But I will support you to the best of my ability.”

Nephthys smiled. “Thank you sister,” she said as her godly form warped and changed, forced into the tiny container beside them. The baby struggled, crying out as she was touched by something not meant for moral flesh. Nephthys cried out in similar pain as her godly form contracted into a space too small to hold it, until she found the two screams were joined in one. She opened her eyes, black and oh so human, to a seemingly empty room.

------------

The priests come for her when she is still a toddler, clinging to her mother's legs. They come following rumors of a child born with divine powers, who can foresee death and offer pain relief to the dying. They are cautious, providing her with many tests to prove her identity.

She passes them all with ease, and laughed with childish glee at how simple they all were. “You will need greater tests than these my dear baldy,” she giggled to their leader, a man with a bare head who had followed her sect since he was just a boy. “These are mere amusements. Why don’t you ask for something incredible, like the return of your hair?”

The other priests all gasped and drew back, horrified at the perceived insult. But the head priest threw back his head and let out a great bellow of laughter. “My lady,” he bowed low, tears of joy in his eyes. “It has been too long since I prayed such a foolish prayer, will you ever forgive me?”

She placed a small hand on his head, reveling in the feeling of the smooth skin she had never before been able to touch. “Forgive? But of course. Let you forget…” she playfully patted out a small tune on his cranium. “Never.”

The head priest raised his head slightly, then turned and called to the other priests. “Bow, bow before your goddess in human form! Bow and praise her glorious gift to mankind!” The priests all fell to their knees, as did all those in the square behind them. Even her mortal mother, who birthed the body she now wore, bowed in worship. Looking down at the lowered heads, Nephthys did not feel the pleasure and gratitude she had so often before. Instead she felt only loneliness.

-----------

“What are they?” she asked, watching in awe as the strange creatures scurried around the skin of their father Geb. “They are so small!”

They were not in fact, small. No. In fact some were taller than her, even in her godly form. But she had not meant physical height. There was something wrong with them, something she didn’t yet have the words for. They were...less somehow. Less present, less aware. One walked right through her as if she wasn’t even there. She startled and stumbled back.

Strong arms caught her, wrapping around her torso. A voice spoke from above. “Are you alright Nephthys?” She looked up to meet the concerned eyes of Set.

“I’m fine!” She smiled, jumping out of his arms and trying to hide her blush. Set allowed her to escape, but his eyes stayed on her face, worried and watchful.

“Hey you!” Isis’s voice cut through their moment. “Get back here and apologize to my sister!” She tried to chase the person down, but every time she reached to grab him her hand passed through. Finally she stopped, face a mask of concentration, and a strange green glow surrounded her palms. She raised her hands now glowing hands towards her target. The light reached out and snaked around the person, causing him to trip and fall.

“Hahaha!” she shrieked, and ran back to grab Nephthys’s hands. “Did you see that? I made the nasty man pay for hurting you. Now you don’t have to worry!” She smiled, wide and genuine as life itself.

Nephthys felt her face soften. “Thank you Isis. You are my hero.”

“And don’t you forget it!” Isis tapped her nose playfully, then skipped away, sticking her tongue out at Set as she did so. He scowled back, and Osiris stepped between them, ready to prevent yet another fight.

“Children!” A commanding voice brought all their chaos to a halt. Pharaoh Ra himself appeared in all his glory, glowing like his sun, surrounded by an escort of minor gods and serpents. “What are you doing playing by the human village? You do not yet have the strength or the presence to be recognized by them. Come back to the palace at once.”

“Humans? Is that what they are called?” Isis perked up. Osiris elbowed her in the ribs.

“We are sorry Your Radiance,” he said as he bowed low. “My friends and I were only curious.” He shot a glare at Isis. “We will return at once.”

Ra sighed. “I suppose there is nothing wrong with a little curiosity. But let someone know where you are going next time. Powerful young gods like yourselves could attract all types of unwanted attention.” He turned back towards the sun, almost to the point where Ra could board it and ride the sunboat into the Duat. “Come along.”

Nephthys exchanged a glance with the others. Set shrugged. Isis sighed. But it was Osiris who took the first step after the Pharaoh of the Gods, towards the setting sun.

----------

The world was cold, colder than anything she had ever known before, even worse than the strange frozen gifts Set had brought her when she was so young. What had he called them? She didn’t remember. They had been white, and melted in her hand. Funny how something that seemed so harmless and fun could be so devastating in bulk, she thought as she pulled her arms tighter around her body.

The worst part was the sun. She didn’t dare look back up, to see that black thing in the place of the sunboat in the sky. Ra was gone, dead and swallowed by the great snake Apophis, how else could the sun be so dark and broken? She cursed her mortal form. The mortal's war had been terrible, yes, but how had she missed that it was headed by Apophis himself? Was she truly so out of touch with the matters of the gods? Was she truly so inconsquental that no one had rallied her to fight?

But it didn’t matter now. Ra’s death at the hands of the snake could only mean that Ma'at had broken and everyone she knew was truly gone. Not even in the afterlife for her to visit. No. The snake would have torn them from reality itself. Isis, Osiris, her little son Anubis, her nephew Horus, Set...

She let out a half choked sob. Set would have gone out first.

She never even got to say goodbye.

“Hello?” A voice called out, and Nephthys’s head jerked up. “Is someone there?”

“I’m here!” Nephthys cried out, heart pounding as she ran towards the sound. Someone else was alive, but who? Who had survived Apophis’s attack?

She broke through the tree line to see a figure in blue. Her heart dropped as she saw his face. His skin was pale, paler than anything she had ever seen. No one she loved looked so strange.

“Who are you?” she asked, voice uncertain. He did not look like the invading barbarians, but he could be one of their gods. How else could he have survived after the world had ended?

“I’m Kodya,” he met her gaze and she held back a gasp. His eyes were bizarre, like chips of blue sky, but that wasn’t what drew her attention. It was the youth in them, open and wide. He was...small...No conception of gods or the spiritual world of the Duat lingered in any part of his soul. She knew instinctively that if she were not in a mortal’s body, he would not be able to perceive her at all.

The thought of a mortal surviving in a world were even the gods had fallen baffled her. But she supposed it did not matter. She was a goddess, perhaps not his, but a goddess nonetheless. It was her duty to guide and protect humans, even strange ones. “I’m Nephthys,” Her smile was as warm and reassuring as she could make it. “We seem to be the only ones here. Let’s stick together until we find other signs of life okay?”

“Neph-thys,” he spoke her name slowly, testing it out on his tongue. “That’s a strange name.” She giggled and he blushed bright red. “Sorry! I’ve just never heard one like it." He hesitated, then asked with brow furrowed in suspicion, "Is it french?”

“Its from Kemet,” she laughed. “I believe it must be very far away from this French.”

“Oh,” he looked down, then straightened his shoulders to meet her gaze. “I would love to travel with you. Neph-thys...” he glanced around them, “...do you have any idea where here is?”

“No.” She shook her head, unwilling to voice the truth of the death of Ra, not to a mortal. It would make it too real. “But I have a good feeling about that direction.” Her intuition, the only power that seemed to still work, kicked in and she pointed to the left. “Perhaps if we go there, we will find others.”

The young mortal, Kodya, nodded. His face was full of trust. As they headed back out into the forest, she promised herself that this time she would keep those under her care safe.

------------

It was strange, to be among so many mortals again in the Room of Swords. Stranger still that her powers seemed to have changed. Her godly abilities had all but vanished, except for the foresight that had always plagued her. Ironic too, that here she was a healer. Her temple had been a place of healing, it was true, but her gift was not to return people their lives, but to ease the pain of those dying and ensure their souls gained safe passage through the Duat. She could give the dying peace; she could even heal a damaged soul on its way to be judged by Anubis; but she could not stop a mortal wound from bleeding.

It worried her, that she could heal as well as if this were the afterlife, and not Kemet. But she kept that knowledge to herself, for she doubted the mortals would understand, and she did not want to sow more fear.

When she had lived in the temple, she had been treated as a goddess still. Her gift was unique, the way only a true host of a god’s could be. Her powers of foresight were beyond anything any mortal magician could master.

Here in the Room of Swords she was one of many. Healing was a rare gift, it was true. But she was not alone. The med bay had others to share her burden and give her advice. Among them she was an acolyte, not a master.

In the temple, she had been held at an arm’s length by all those around her. Even her head priest, who had held her as a child and who let her call him Baldy, had always treated her with a diffidence that would have gone to her head had she actually been a mortal child. She blamed the lonely feeling such treatment brought with it on her mortal form.

In the Room of Swords, Kodya would seek her out to train, to sulk about something someone said, or to gush over Gyrus. She would laugh at the ridiculous face he made as he whined like the child he was about how Gyrus threw him into another monster pit. Or sigh in sympathy when he complained about how difficult it was to get Gyrus to notice him. Other times, the healers would invite her to eat with them. Together they would gossip about the strong fighters and how injured they all got. She would listen, and laugh, and feel...almost human.

----------

Sometimes, the people of the Room of Swords reminded her of a different time. One where gods ruled and fought and lived on her father’s skin just as much as they lived in the depths of the Duat. It was...strange, to make such connections between the divine and these simple mortals. But these mortals wielded strange powers with ease when a goddess still struggled. So perhaps in this twisted reality where even Ra could not enter, perhaps here it made sense.

Don reminded her most of Ra. Not Ra as he was when she last saw him, old, broken, and confined to the sunboat. No. The Ra of her youth, when the world was so new, and she was still so very young. Don held that same kindness towards those who were new and unsure of themselves, and the same quiet wisdom that made people flock to him to confess their deepest secrets and ask his advice. He even had the same tactic of using obscure metaphors, although where Don related life to the plants he grew in his garden, Ra had used the flow of the river.

She watched from her place beside Kodya as Don stepped into the room with Gyrus at his side, ready to announce who would go on the next mission. Kodya stood beside her, tense with anticipation and nerves. As each name was called, the person would square their shoulders and beam, prouder than ever at their name had come from his lips.

“Kodya,” Don’s voice echoed over to them, and Kodya beamed at her, honest delight open on his face. It reminded her of another smile...

-------------

“Nephthys!” Set burst into the room, face shining with excitement. “Nephthys, Nephthys, you’ll never believe it!” He waved his hands wildly. “I got the position! You’re looking at the new guard of Ra’s sunboat!”

“Set that’s fantastic!” She had giggled, light with her own euphoria. He smiled, then crossed the room to pick her up and swing her around in his arms. She laughed as she flew through the air.

He finally set her down on the ground, and she stumbled a bit, leaning against his hard chest. “I’m going to guard Ra,” he spoke quietly into her hair, his voice full of awe. “He picked me.”

“Of course he did,” Nephthys tilted her head so she could look him in the eyes. “You’re the strongest god he has.” Set’s cheeks reddened. Then he smirked and pulled their bodies closer.

“You know what the best part is?” he whispered into her ear.

“What?” Nephthys breathed, hyperaware of his chest against her own.

“I get to work with you, oh Guiding Goddess of Death and Protection, As you guide the sunboat through the afterlife.” He pulled her tight and spun her again through the air.

Nephthys laughed, full of joy. They would be together, serving the god they loved. And in that moment, it truly felt like their happiness would last forever.

-----------

She shook her head to clear the memory. None of that mattered. Not now. Instead she tried to smile warmly as Kodya stepped up to join the line. He stood straight-backed and tall beside Gyrus, but Nephthys knew inside he was freaking out about how close he was to his hero and crush. Her gaze flickered to Gyrus, standing equally tall, but more relaxed. He beamed at the crowd as if this were not some dangerous mission, but an exciting chance to explore the world. There were lines beneath his eyes she knew, but they would not stop him. Nothing would.

He reminded her so much of her beloved sister Isis, with his warmth and kindness. He always had a kind word of encouragement for everyone around. Isis too had been kind, understanding, and, Nephthys thought as she watched Gyrus’s eyes glow, so very, very powerful. But the one trait that most linked Isis and Gyrus in her mind was their almost single-minded quest for knowledge. Gyrus would spend hours holed up in his room without food or water, only to return with an invention, or a theory, or a new battle strategy. He wanted to know so much, it almost frightened her.

Isis had been like that too. It had not always been a blessing.

-----------

“Why did you do it sister?” Nephthys looked down at the weakened form of Ra. Her god, her Pharaoh, the Sun God himself, lay on a golden bed and struggled feebly to breathe. “Why poison Ra? He is your pharaoh too.”

Isis gave her shoulder a comforting pat, looking all together unbothered by this turn of events. “Do not fear dear sister. This isn’t his end. I can heal him. But...” A smile spread across her features, as wide and manic as the gleam in her eyes. “I need something of his first. His true name.”

Nephthys felt her body go cold. “You...you can’t! That...that power is not for us, it would be too much, even for us gods! You know this! So why?”

“Don’t believe everything you’re told sister dear.” Isis rolled her eyes. “Infinite knowledge won’t destroy me. I’m more than able to handle it. Besides...” her eyes softened slightly as she looked at the broken god between them, “...I really can’t heal him without his true name. The venom of the snake I used was fashioned out of his own magic. Without his name I cannot cast the spell to undo it.”

Ra cracked open a single eye, golden as the sun itself. “Isis,” he hissed, voice hoarse with sickness. “Come closer.”

Isis sent Nephthys a happy smile, full of excitement and joy as she leaned closer.

Nephthys bowed and exited the room, unwilling to watch one she loved be betray another she loved.

-----------

Nephthys raised her head as Ragan threw open the door to the med bay with a flash of lightning. “Where’s Cib?” she said by way of greeting. A few of the the other patients flinched at her angry tone, but Ragan didn’t seem to care as she stalked inside.

Only Ciboulette seemed to brighten as Ragan entered. “Over here,” she called from beside Nephthys, voice hoarse. Ragan made a beeline towards them, planting herself in the chair beside Ciboulette’s bed. She hesitated briefly, before reaching out a hand to gently grasp Ciboulette’s smaller one. Ciboulette gave her a soft smile in return.

The two were in their own little world, Nephthys thought. She hated to interrupt this moment, but she did have other patients. “She’s almost healed,” she said, and held back a giggle as both women startled. “Just one more kiss and a bit of rest, and she should be done.”

Nephthys leaned down and kissed Ciboulette gently on the cheek as Ragan kept ahold of her hand. “There,” Nephthys said. “Now she needs rest.” She gave Ragan a pointed smile.

“I’ll be quiet,” Ragan reassured as rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. Beside her Ciboulette’s smile widened.

Nephthys didn’t argue, she knew better than to get between a lioness and her lover. She had known Sekhmet and Hathor, and Ragan and Ciboulette’s love reminded her so much of theirs. It warmed her soul to see it again.

----------

“She’s out of control! What do we do?” Thoth wailed. Nephthys winced. It was never a good sign when the God of Knowledge himself was out of ideas. What had Ra been thinking when he created a goddess as uncontrollable as Sekhmet? Surely he knew that creating a god whose sole purpose was destruction could only backfire. Although, she thought as she watched through the palace window as Sekhmet wreaked havoc on the mortal guards below, Ra hadn’t really been himself lately. Not since...She shook her head slightly and turned her attention back to the three other gods huddled in the room. Now was not the time for what ifs.

“You know what we need to do! We need to attack” Set was saying to Thoth. “Get reinforcements from the gods, strike now and look for a weakness!” He crossed his arms as he watched Sekhmet rip another mortal to shreds, a scowl on his lips.

Thoth threw up his hands in frustration. “We tried that, and all the other half-decent plans you’re about to say!” Set opened his mouth, fangs bared and Thoth raised a single finger to silence him. “Good plans are useless! Right now I want your stupidest plans!”

“What?” Isis stomped her foot. “Why? A stupid plan is dismissed because its stupid!” Nephthys privately agreed with her sister, but Thoth just sighed dramatically.

“We’ve tried all the good ones! If the good ones do not work, then supposedly there must be a bad plan that will work instead! So I’m asking you, God of the Desert, Goddess of Magic, and the Guiding Goddess of Death and Protection.” He turned to face each of them in turn. “You three deal with Apophis’ chaos nightly when defending Ra’s sunboat! So provide me a solution!”

Set scowled. “We have a solution. Ra should be able to command a goddess born from his own right eye! Or he would be if someone...” he glared at Isis, “...hadn’t stolen his name and made him need to create Sekhmet to defend himself in the first place!”

“Are you saying this is my fault?!” Isis drew back in outrage. Nephthys winced at her volume. This argument could last for millennia. They would never be able to hash out a solution at this rate. Which meant it was up to her. She furrowed her brow, and concentrated so hard her stomach began to ache and claw inside her, but she could think of no way to stop the rampaging goddess from destroying Kemet.

“Excuse me?” Nephthys looked up to see Hathor, a minor Goddess of Music and Dancing, standing before them. The usually graceful dancer stood hesitantly in the doorway, shifting balance from foot to foot. “I have a very stupid idea, that I think could work?” She ducked her head as the attention of four very powerful gods swung towards her.

“Speak,” Thoth shot Isis and Set a disapproving frown. “It’s not as if we have any other ideas.”

Hathor dipped into a curtsey, but her eye held a twinkle of mischief as she said, “How much wine do Your Radiances possess?”

This is not going to work, Nepththys thought as sweat began to form on her brow. The fifty jars of the Duat’s finest wine sat innocently in the open square. This plan is stupid. It will get us all killed.

They sat together behind the jars, lounging in the royal courtyard as if on a picnic, holding empty cups and pretending to laugh and talk. It was a mockery of a true festival. The gods were pale and shaking, their voices high pitched as they pretended to laugh. Only Hathor seemed completely at ease, dancing before the open jars as if there was no mad goddess born from Ra’s eye out to kill every god and human in her path.

Nephthys wrapped her arms around herself, wishing they would stop shaking. All she could think of was how vulnerable they all looked, lying open and exposed on the courtyard ground. Set placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She glanced up at him, and he gave her his best attempt at a reassuring smile, but his mighty chin trembled. She cuddled closer to his side. At least if they died they died together.

“Sekhmet!” Hathor cried, raising one hand to wave excitedly in the air, as if greeting a dear friend and not a monster on a rampage. “Welcome! We’ve been waiting for you!”

The sheer joy in her voice brought even Sekhmet to a halt. She stood before Hathor, eyebrows knitting in confusion. “Are you going to let me kill you?”

“Now, now!” Hathor gave Sekhmet a wink, body moving in a hypnotic rhythm. “Don’t be so hasty!” Sekhmet gave a half frown and started to reach out, but Hathor danced gracefully just out of her reach. “You will eat your fill, but this is a festival in your honor! First you must drink the blood of your enemies as we toast to your greatness!”

Sekhmet’s eyes followed Hathor’s body in its mesmerizing movements. “The blood of my enemies?”

“Yes,” Hathor smiled, then flipped backwards, to alight on the rim of a jar, foot light as a feather. “Drink, and we will toast to the mighty Sekhmet, the true daughter of Ra!” She produced a goblet from thin air, and raised it in salute. Quickly Nephthys and the other gods followed suit, lifting trembling cups towards Sekhmet.

Sekhmet let out a mighty roar, and Nephthys flinched at the sound. But it was not a roar of anger, but rather a great billowing laugh. “Very well. I will drink!” Sekhmet lunged to one of the jars, and downed the whole thing in one gulp. Hathor smiled as she passed her another, and another, and another.

As they got halfway through the jars, Nephthys began to tremble harder. Sekhmet showed no sign of the ware that should come from consuming so much alcohol. Set’s grip tightened on her shoulder until his nails were like knives cutting into her skin. But about a forth of the way through, Sekhmet’s cheeks became stained with red. From then on her eyes became glassy, and her hands could barely hold on to the jars Hathor gently pressed into her hands. A third of the way through the last jar she slumped forward, and did not get up.

Nephthys let out a sigh of relief, body relaxing against Set’s chest. But Set did not let go. “It’s not over yet,” he said, voice grim. “We must get rid of her first.” So saying he rose to his knees, knuckles white on the sword he intended to slay the sleeping goddess. But Hathor got there first, jumping almost protectively over the body.

“Wait,” she said. “There is still one part left.” Then she spread her arms, opened her mouth, and began to sing. Nephthys had never heard a song like it before, as melodious and soft as a birds, as deep and threatening as thunder. Growing up with Isis, she thought she knew of all the magic in existence simply by proxy. But this? This was something else. This called to Sekhmet’s very essence, knew her very being, found it beautiful, and offered it to join her in her song. Light flooded around her and Sekhmet as Sekhmet’s essence began flowing around Hathor and into her mouth, fusing their spirits into one.

The song ended in a single, heart-wrenching note. All around the gods were silent. Nephthys felt something wet on her face. She reached up to touch it and found she was crying.

“What was that?” Isis’s voice cut through the silence. “I’ve never seen magic like that before!”

Hathor smiled enigmatically as she dropped into another curtsy. “All gods have there gifts, great and small,” she replied. Isis looked like she wanted to protest, but then Sekhmet stirred. “Oh!” Hathor gave a little jump, and quickly knelt by her side. “She’s waking up!”

Sekhmet gave a low groan as she propped herself up on her elbows. Hathor placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

Sekhmet blinked bleary eyes at her. “I feel...” She pulled herself up to a sitting position with Hathor’s help. “Different.”

“That’s okay,” Hathor gave her a small smile. “I feel different too.”

“Why?” A ghost of a frown crossed Sekhmet’s face. Hathor bit her lip.

“Because I joined our essences. You and I, we are connected now.” Sekhmet’s eyes widened and she struggled out of Hathor’s grip.

“You...you stole my name?” Sekhmet cried out, clutching her hand to her chest.

“No!” Hathor cut sharply through the air with her hands. “I’d never do something so cruel! No.” Her voice softened, and she peaked at Sekmet from beneath her bangs. “I joined our essences. You and I, we share a title now. We are both Goddesses of War, and Goddesses of Dance.”

“But I don’t know anything about dance.” Sekhmet rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.

“What a coincidence,” laughed Hathor, high and nervous. “I know nothing about war. I guess...” she held out a hesitant hand to Sekhmet, “...we teach each other?”

Nephthys held her breath as Sekhmet hesitated, but then Sekhmet reached out and grabbed Hathor’s small hand in her own. “Together,” she said.

Hathor smiled.

--------------

Some days were more difficult than others. Days when a mission went so badly she had to choose who to help, and leave the rest crying in pain as her powers depleted. Days when Kodya’s missions had gone on for too long and she was not strong enough to go out and look for him herself. Days when the homesickness for her own people and gods was so strong it felt like an baby chick had been born inside her stomach and was trying to break out.

On these days her smile was a bit more forced, her laughter a bit slower to arrive. Isis would know what that meant. Kodya was starting to. But among most of the Room of Swords, she seemed much the same as she always did. To everyone but one. Ainju.

It had been fairly soon after her arrival when he first noticed something was wrong. Kodya had gone on a mission, his first, and he and his party hand not returned at the predicted time. She had tried her best to keep her spirits up, but the separation was beginning to wear on her. She began to wonder if Kodya would join the ranks of the countless soldiers she had seen leave her temple and never return.

“Are you all right?” Ainju had asked. His voice was quiet but he held her gaze firmly.

Nephthys had been surprised, because she had not thought her behavior had shown her anxiety. “I’m fine!” She hurriedly tried to reassure him, tightening the corners of her mouth to force a smile on her lips.

Ainju did not contradict her. Instead he simply waited as her shoulders slumped under the pressure maintaining her smile. Finally he said, “I am going to meditate, would you like to come with me? I could use the company.”

She had hesitated, a part of her reluctant to admit weakness in front of a mere mortal. But the rest of her was so very tired. Besides... “What is a healer for, if not to keep patients company!” Her voice was light, chipper even, but her steps beside Ainju fell heavy with the weight of the world.

Ainju did not say a word as together they walked to the temple, or when they meditated, side by side. But his presence was calming, serene almost. He seemed to understand that what she had needed in that moment, more than anything, was his silence.

It reminded her of another, a god who had always had silence to offer to her when she needed it most. Steady Osiris, whose wisdom gifted him with the ability to know how to comfort his people when they needed him. Who could guide his kingdom justly in war and peace alike. Who knew how to speak with the most knowledgeable of his scholars and the most frightened of small children.

Ainju’s clones were lovely of course, but individually they did not seem to possess the wisdom he gained from knowing each one’s wishes and deciding what was best for them all. It was the gift reserved for people like Osiris and Ainju, for the ones made to lead and judge.

But not everyone had seen it that way.

---------------

“Of all the arrogant, condescending, unholy sons of Apophis...” Set punched the wall with all his strength, leaving a smoking crater in the side of their wall. “How dare he!” he snarled, fangs bared at the open air as if at someone only he could see. “Prancing around like a wise Pharaoh, in Ra’s crown and Ra’s crook and flail, when it was his wife who...” Set broke off, winded by his own rant. “How dare he!” He roared one final time, fist hitting the wall once again and deepening the hole.

“Ra chose him to rule after he retired,” Nephthys kept her voice level, and tried very hard not to look at the smoke rising from the crater between them. “He must have had a reason.”

Set gave a bark of laughter, dry and humorless as he leaned back against the wall to support himself. “You are too blind My Love. Ra never recovered from losing his name. He was old when he left, barely senile. You expect me to believe he would have chosen that two-faced traitor over...” He broke off, eyes drifting down to look at his own chest, broken and scared from years of service protecting Ra. His fist tightened. “Over someone who actually cares?”

“Maybe he wanted to keep you close and with him on the sunboat.” Nephthys reached out her hand to touch him, but he shrugged it off.

“To do what?” Set crossed his arms. “Guard his corpse through the night until he reawakens again? While Osiris feeds off the fruit of his labor?” He scowled down at the floor. “He was doing fine, before that thrice-cursed snake Isis...” His teeth bared in a snarl.

“Set!” Nephthys snapped, voice sharp. “That is still my sister you are talking about. And your sister-in-law.” She stomped her foot, frowning her hardest. He blinked big startled eyes at her tone, unused to her anger.

“Of course Nephthys.” He stood straighter, and reached towards her. His arms slipping through the smoke between them. “I’m sorry,” he said, hand coming to rest on her cheek. “I’m just angry and blowing off steam.”

She let him touch her, but did not lean into his hand like she usually did. He stepped closer and placed a kiss on top of her head. As soon as she felt his lips touch, a horrible, sick feeling began to fill her whole being. Suddenly the arms around her were not that of her loving husband, but an unrecognizable monster. But as fast as it had washed over her it was gone, and it was only her husband kissing her head.

He drew back to look at her again, and she tried to mask her confusion and fear. “I really am sorry Nephthys,” he said, trying to catch her eye.

“I know.” She gave him a half smile. His shoulders sagged in relief at her words. She waited a few moments, until his eyes began to glaze over and his frown returned, aimed at what she could not see. “Excuse me,” she demurred as she slipped out of the room. He did not even look up as she left, to lost in his own mind to notice.

She ran straight to Isis and Osiris’s chambers, and banged on their door with all her might. It caved, bending and warping before the desperation of a goddess. The door opened, and she found she was hitting bare chest instead of solid wood. Her eyes turned upwards to see Osiris in all his glory, Ra’s crown upon his head.

“Sister?” Isis appeared by his side. Her face was creased with concern, and Nephthys knew she must look a mess with her wild eyes and clothes wrinkled from running. “What’s wrong?”

Nephthys threw herself into her sister’s arms and broke down sobbing. “It’s Set.” She managed to get out between sobs. “I just had...the most horrible feeling...”

Isis’s arms closed around her. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?” she asked as she stroked Nephthys’s hair.

Osiris placed a hand on Isis’s shoulder. “Patience,” he said. He regarded Nephthys with an even stare as she balled up snot and tears in Isis’s arms. Isis bit her lip, but stayed silent as her husband suggested, waiting for Nephthys to speak.

Finally Nephthys managed to get out. “Set..I had an terrible intuition. He...” she gasped for air, “...he’s been so angry lately. About Ra leaving, and you being Pharaoh, but...” she let out another sob, “...it’s Set. He was so close to Ra, I thought he was just grieving. But today...” she gulped, “...today I got the most horrible feeling. Something awful is going to happen and I don’t...I can’t...” she broke off, and found she couldn't continue.

“Did he say he would hurt us?” Isis asked, searching Nephthys’s face, “...hurt you?” Nephthys shook her head and buried it back in Isis’s shoulder.

“Isis,” Osiris warned. He gave Nephthys an understanding smile. “I have some honey wine I need help finishing. Why don’t you come in?”

Nephthys had accepted, and spent the day in their company, comforted by her sister and her sister’s husband. She had left feeling both grateful and useless. In the end, all she could offer was a vague warning and another mouth to drink their honey wine.

Osiris never blamed her. Even when her fears were realized, and her useless warning was unable to prevent his death. Even when he was trapped in the afterlife for eternity, he never held her accountable for the failed warning and the loss of his wine.

------------

Sometimes, it bothered Nephthys how many clones Ainju had. Perhaps it was only her imagination, old trauma creeping in the back of her mind and influencing her thoughts. But every time she saw Ainju had decided to use his clones on a mission, a dark feeling would curdle in her gut. She couldn’t help but think that separating oneself into pieces made it so much harder to put oneself back together.

A great hairy beast screamed with unbridled wrath as Feather fled between its legs with its prized treasure chest. It struck out a mighty paw to strike them down, but Xinju darted in-between, sword held aloft. He struck at it with all his might, and the monster gave a mighty roar and stumbled back.

“Look out!” Someone shoved her bodily away as the monster's movements dislodged a part of the cliff. A great boulder missed her and her rescuer by a hair's breath. Privately cursing her own uselessness in battle, she turned her attention to the companion who was resting above her.

“Did it hit you? I can help...” She stopped as she was met with a bald head with a heart tattooed in the center. “Oh hello Hinju.” He lay on top of her, dazed eyes and a completely red face. She looked over him critically but he did not appear to have any injuries.

“Sorry!” He jumped off. She giggled at his embarrassment.

“Sorry you saved me?” She asked. His face grew even redder, hands moving in the air, ready to deny it. She opened her mouth to let out another giggle...and stopped.

Her whole body ran cold as the icy land she had first come to. White lined her vision, and the color in Hinju’s clothes began to bleed. Inside her godly essence boiled and screamed, clawing at the edges of this small mortal flesh in an attempt to gain freedom. She knew what this meant.

Using all her strength, she tilted her chin upward to see a shadow on the ledge above. It stood still for one agonizing second, then dove downward straight for them. Hinju threw himself back over her. She opened her mouth to scream, but the cry for help would come to late.

Glowing green energy materialized over Hinju, stopping the shadow in its tracks. She turned her head, now so light on her shoulders, to see Gyrus standing above her, one hand extended. “I’ve got it,” he said. “Move quickly.”

She nodded, grabbed Hinju, and pulled the man towards the others. Xinju and the other clones were finishing off the beast, and could provide them both adequate protection while Gyrus dealt with the shadow.

Xinju hugged Hinju tightly as the other clones gathered around, all fusing together to make Ainju. Nephthys sighed with relief at the sight of her friend whole once again. She glanced back at Gyrus, still fighting the shadow, and smiled to herself. Maybe she didn’t have to worry so much about Ainju’s clones. After all, he had Gyrus to watch his back. And Gyrus, much like Isis, didn’t give up on those close to him.

-----------

Nephthys stood up to her knees in the water of the afterlife, sifting through the reeds for any piece of Osiris’s corpse. It had been horrifying, the first time she had pulled a hand from the Nile and known it was the hand the man who had been alive and joyous at the party just hours earlier. There was nothing she had wanted more than to hold that hand and cry her heart out. But...she glanced at her sister Isis, who had bent low into the water, brow set and hands expertly moving through the reeds. Isis had refused to cry, and so she could not either. She had to be strong for her sister’s loss.

Something long and thick was stuck in the bottom of the river. She gave it a sharp tug and a leg came out, still adorned with Osiris’s favorite anklet. She glanced over at Isis and bit her lip. “I think this is the last of him,” she said, voice perfectly neutral. “It’s time to bury him.”

Isis stood luminescent in the dim light of the afterlife. Her normally immaculate hair fell in tangled knots on her head. Her once beautiful dress was stained with river water and mud. But her back was straight and her chin high with the same haughty determination that Nephthys knew so well. “Not like this,” she said. “I don’t want to bury him in pieces like the food of the dogs.”

Nephthys bowed her head. “Then we will reconstruct him,” she offered, and gently carried the leg to the western riverbank.

There on the sand she and Isis got to work, silently organizing the fourteen pieces of his body into position. The pieces refused to stay put, falling crooked the moment Nephthys removed her hands. In frustration she tore a part of her once fine linen dress and wrapped the pieces together until they held in position. Isis nodded her head in agreement, and proceeded to tear up her own dress to do the same.

When they finished, Nephthys stepped back to look at their reconstruction. Osiris looked...strange, all wrapped up in linen and lying still in a coffin. But at least he looked like himself, and not the dismembered mess he had been earlier. She glanced at Isis, to see her frowning. Oh no. “What is it?” she asked hesitantly.

“He’s missing a piece,” Isis said as she eyed the corpse of her dead husband.

Nephthys turned her gaze back to the body. It looked the same to her. “I don’t think so...but it must have been small. We’ll never find it.”

Isis gave her a supremely unimpressed look, then bit her lip, hands glowing green as she approached the body. “Just let me... I can fix it,” she said.

Nephthys reached out a hand to stop her, mouth open to tell her to let go and bury him. There was no point in making things worse. But as Isis’s hands touched her husband’s skin, he suddenly jerked, then sat up, coughing and gasping but animated. Isis shrieked, and then dove into the very confused Osiris’s arms. Only then did she allow herself to cry.

Nephthys watched the reunion with both joy and sadness. For she could see what neither god had quite realized yet. Osiris was moving, it was true. But he was not truly alive. He would never be able to return to the world of the living.

But, she thought as she watched Isis sob into Osiris’s shoulder. It was still something. He could rule here on the west side and live happily. At least now Isis could see him again.

------------

“Hey Nephthys!” She turned to see Anan approaching, waving his right hand as he ran. She stopped to let him catch up, a fond smile on her lips.

“What is it Anan?” She asked. He grinned sheepishly at her, and presented his left hand, torn ligaments visible to all. “Turns out shark monkey people bite. Who knew?” He laughed, high pitched and clear.

“You poor thing,” Nephthys said, cradling his hand between two of her own. She bend her head to place a gentle kiss to his ragged knuckles, and watched as his muscle and skin knit itself back together before her eyes. She raised herself upward to find Anan staring at her, eyes wide. “Be gentle with it now.” She winked at him. “It’s still going to be weak for the next few days.”

“Gentle. Right!” Anan pulled his hand back, cradling it to his chest. His cheeks filled with a red glow. “I will be very, very gentle.” He opened his mouth and closed it again several times. Finally he got out, “Would you like to hear how I fought the shark monkey boss?”

“Of course,” Nephthys smiled her most encouraging smile. “That sounds lovely.”

Anan’s whole being seemed to brighten. He looked so like a child with a new toy. “It all started...”

“Anan,” Feather appeared at his side, almost out of nowhere. “You have to report to Don remember?”

“Ooh,” Anan’s shoulders sagged. “Right.” He scratched his cheek and peaked out of the corner of his eye at Nephthys. “Another time?”

“Of course.” She smiled indulgently. “Why don’t you tell it at dinner, so everyone can hear? I’m sure they’d all love to.” She had meant it as encouragement, but Anan’s shoulders seemed to sag even lower at her words.

“Right,” he said, voice low. Then he flashed her a tight smile. “See you later Nephthys!” he waved as he ran off.

Feather gave a low chuckle. “That was cold Nephthys.”

Nephthys frowned at them. “I don’t understand.”

Feather raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t know? That makes it even worse. Still.” They crossed their arms. “You shouldn’t lead him on. I can only take so much of his pining.”

“Oh.” Nephthys felt her stomach sink. “Oh dear. I-I didn’t realize.” She glanced at Anan’s retreating back. Mortal affection was so obvious, how had she missed it? She had thought herself above it all, watching in faint amusement as emotions played their games in the Room of Swords. But this...she had not seen this coming.

Feather shrugged. “It’s not your fault. Just a heads up so you know how to respond.” So saying they began to wander off, leaving Nephthys frozen in her place.

It was her own fault for not noticing, she berated herself. It really was obvious. But how could she help herself? Anan was so like Horus, her bright and cheerful little nephew. Always friendly to everyone he met, and almost unrivaled in determination on the battlefield. In her loneliness she had treated Anan as if he was Horus, and in doing so ignored the fact that Anan’s own feelings were not Horus’s.

She clenched her fists. She would have to apologize the next time she saw him.

--------

“Auntie, Auntie! Look what I can do!” She looked up from her scales as Horus ran towards her, eager and smiling. His godly aura shone bright against the dim light of the souls around him, who stood in line for her judgment. He did not seem like a creature of the afterlife like she herself did, even if it was where he and his mother had taken shelter.

“What is it Horus?” She said as she delicately placed the scale it in her lap as he neared her side. The dead, ever patient, made no move to complain as the boy cut between them in line.

The boy beamed and he held out his hand. He stared at it, face twisted in a mask of concentration. A beam of golden light began to twist from it, wavering in his grip. He bit his lip, and the form solidified into a fine sword. His eyes lit up as he held it proudly up for her to see.

“Isn’t it great!” he asked. “I figured out how to do it all on my own!”

“How marvelous Horus,” Nephthys smiled. “You are growing into a fine young god, just like your mother.”

“Now I can summon my own weapon, Mom says I can start training to fight! Soon no one will be able to stand against me.” He laughed, full childish glee, and didn’t notice how her face suddenly became tight. Her smile now cut against her skin as she struggled to keep it in place.

“Horus!” Her son Anubis called from the entrance of the hall, looking anxiously around. “Where did you go?”

“I’m up here!” Horus waved eagerly at his cousin. “I was just showing Auntie my knew move!”

Anubis hurried up to the stone dallas where Nephthys sat. He frowned down at Horus, hands on his hips. “You know we aren’t supposed to bother my mom when she’s judging!” He gestured to the souls all around the great hall.

“I didn’t mind seeing the new move, Anubis my love,” She gently reprimanded her son, who crossed his arms and sulked like the teenager he was. “But,” she said as she fixed Horus with a severe look. “I do have important work to do, so try to wait until dinner to show me your next move. Okay?”

Horus pouted. “Okay,” he muttered, shoulders slumped. He allowed Anubis to grab him by his shoulder and usher him back down the great hall, weaving in and out through the ranks of the dead.

She allowed her smile to drop as she watched them disappear around the corner. Anubis and Horus grew more every day, training their strength and powers. Anubis she knew, would inherit her position as judge of the afterlife when he reached adulthood. It was the least she could do to ensure he did not have to fight in the upcoming war against his own father. But Horus... She thought of the sword glowing so proud in his hands. Horus would fight Set for revenge for his father’s death.

Her heart clenched as the knuckles holding her scale turned white. Only in the deepest depths of her heart could she admit that no matter how the battle ended, her heart would still break.

----------

Not all the connections between the gods and the mortals she found were good. There were some she wished she did not see, some gods she wished to forget. Such comparisons sprang unwanted and unwelcome at the most unexpected of times.

It was a simple game, involving cards and smashed round cylinders called ‘chips’ that Feather had painstakingly recreated from their own time. They called it poker. Kodya apparently knew the game too, and had been thrilled at the recreation. He waved Nephthys over to the group sitting on the floor with cards in hand. Anan nearly fell over himself to provide her space between him and Kodya. He smiled at her, extra friendly and warm as if to reassure her that he bore her no ill will over her rejection. But Nephthys noticed the gap between them was wider than necessary, as he leaned slightly away into Feather’s personal space.

“We’re almost done with this round,” Kodya explained. “You can join in after it’s over.” He hunched over his cards, intense concentration on his face.

Nephthys smiled at him, then turned her attention to the game. Ragan and Cib both seemed to be out, leaving only Kodya, Anan, and Feather. Kodya eyed everyone with suspicion, while Anan bore a confident smirk. Feather’s face was impassive. Finally Anan pushed all his chips into the center. “All in,” he crowed.

Feather placed their cards down, “I fold,” they said.

Kodya furrowed his brow as he gave both of them a long look, then pushed his chips into the center. “I’m all in,” he said.

“Ooooo,” Ragan and Cib crowed. Both leaned forward while they simultaneously kept leaning against each other in a feat of balance that spoke to their skill as a couple.

Anan placed down his cards face up. Four cards with ones...what was it Kodya called them? Aces!...and one with a three. Kodya scowled as he slapped down three crowns...was the crown called King or Queen? Pharaoh was so much easier to remember honestly...and two twos. There was some term for it, but she could barely remember it...complete temple perhaps?...It was a good hand if her memory served her well, but judging from Kodya’s bitter expression, not a great one.

“Yes!” Anan punched the air. “No cleaning duty for a week!” Ragan enthusiastically patted his back, reaching around Feather to deliver her mighty blow. Her sharp movement sent Cib falling sideways and Anan falling forward. Ragan caught Cib, but let Anan fall. Anan didn’t seem to mind though, still flushed with victory. Kodya’s scowl darkened, and Nephthys held back a giggle.

Something fell from the wasteline of Anan’s pants. Feather reached out a hand and picked it up before he noticed. They turned it in their hands, face completely blank. But Nephthys could see what it was clearly: another Ace. Feather snapped their fingers and Anan began to cough, hacking and gagging on a nonexistent taste.

“What are you doing?” Ragan roared, and Cib frowned. But Feather merely held up the card for all to see.

“Cheaters deserve to be punished,” they said.

Nephthys felt the color drain from her face. The sound of her heart beat loudly in her ears as everything else began to fade away.

Distantly she heard Anan say, “I’m sorry! Make it stop!” and Feather snapped their fingers to release them. Ragan gave some comment about how cheaters never prospered...but Nephthys couldn’t make out the words.

“Are you ok?” Kodya placed a hand on her arm, grounding her to reality.

“Oh I’m fine,” she shot him a fake smile. “I just forgot something I needed to do in the med bay.” She met his eyes, and knew he understood her silent plea of: “I need to get out of here.”

“If its just organizing, I can help,” Kodya offered, but what he was really saying was: “do you need me to go with you?”

“No, no. But it shouldn’t take too long,” she said, but what she really meant was: “I just need to be alone, but thank you.

Kodya nodded, but his expression was concerned as he watched her get up and leave the group. The others all shrugged it away, hardly noticing. She barely made it into a deserted corridor before the flashbacks started.

-----------

“Traitors deserve to be punished,” Atum’s voice was flat, but fell like a hammer upon the courtroom in the way only the Great Judge of the God’s voice could. The gods watching howled and jeered at his words. Set stood in the middle, arms bound in green, glowing chains and mouth muzzled. His shoulders however, were thrown back and he glared out at the gathered gods.

“He’s already been punished!” Nephthys cried, “Horus killed him as he killed Osiris. He can never return to the human realm, isn’t that enough?” Her words were met with hisses and boos, but she ignored them, eyes on Atum’s impassive face.

“He cannot stay in the afterlife, his presence threatens Osiris, and he has too many personal connections to the gods that work there.” Atum stated in their flat voice.

Nephthys bared her teeth, “My son and I would never...”

“It does not matter what you would or would not do,” Atum stopped her. “It matters only what you are.”

“Then send him to Ra’s sunboat.” Nephthys pressed on, ignoring her anger in favor of pressing desperation. “If he spends all his time fighting Apophis, he will not have time to plot vengeance.”

“No,” Atum’s voice was final. “He has broken Ma'at. He does not deserve that honor anymore.” Nephthys flinched as the crowd hooted with glee. “I sentence him to the desert. He may never again set foot in the black soil of the Nile, for as long as the sun is in the sky.”

“No!” Nephthys screamed, heart in her throat. “You can’t! There’s nothing out there but Apophis! You send him to his second death!”

“Then he will fight the snake, as he did on Ra’s sunboat. Is that not what you wanted for him?” Atum asked, face set and cold as stone. Nephthys couldn’t respond, couldn’t even think of a reply. She looked wildly around the courtroom, but in the eyes of those she once knew she saw only glee at Set’s obvious demise. Even her own family, even Isis, looked so pleased at this verdict. And just like that they bled away, turning to monsters in her eyes, hungry and angry for her husband’s flesh.

She turned to look at Set, to plead for him to understand, but he would not meet her gaze as the monsters escorted him to the empty desert and the Great Snake’s waiting jaws.

----------

“Are you all right?” A hand touched her shoulder. She jumped and pushed violently away. She cracked open one eye, expecting to see one of the monsters here to make her watch her husband’s demise. But it was only Oli, face full of concern.

She took a deep breath, and tried to steady her beating heart. Her skin was slick with sweat as if she had run the entire length of the Nile. And she was sitting, when had she started sitting? She didn’t know. She hugged her knees.

Oli watched her, open concern in his eyes. She tried to give him a tired smile, but couldn’t quite work up the energy. Besides, it didn’t quite count with Oli. Not that their was anything wrong with him, quite the opposite. She could sense the godly essence within him. However unworshiped and forgotten the one inside him was, however unknowing his host, she could never bring herself to project another god onto him. It seemed disrespectful. But it meant she didn’t have to pretend.

“Have you ever...” she started, then stopped, unsure if Oli was aware of the power within him. “Have you ever...had someone say something, and it made you remember something really bad?”

Oli hesitated. “Was it intentional?” he asked, eyes wide and searching.

“No,” Nephthys tucked her knees under her chin. It wasn’t Feather’s fault they reminded her of Atum. “Just an unlucky line with far more connotation than they could ever dream.”

“Oh,” Oli looked down. “Is...is there anything I can do to help?” he fiddled with the edge of his robe, not looking at her.

She wiped her eyes with her hand. “No. Just...give me a minute okay? I’ll get myself together, just you wait.” She tried to make her voice reassuring.

“Okay,” Oli slid down beside her, leaning against the wall. He copied her pose, pulling his arms around his knees. She sniffled, and buried her head back in her own knees. For a while, they just sat together in silence.

“Do you have a favorite food?” Nephthys startled, and turned to stare at Oli. He gave her a sheepish smile. “My powers are kinda new, but I’m pretty good at using them for cooking!”

Nephthys blinked at him, and Oli’s smile fell off his face. He looked away to tug at the frayed edges of his clothing.

“Honey wine,” she said. Oli stilled. “My brother-in-law would give me honey wine when I was upset.”

“I can make that!” Oli scrambled to his feet. “Alcohol is one of the first things I learned. I just need a few pointers and it's as good as done!” He held out his hand to her invitingly.

As she took it, she felt her mouth twitch into a soft, genuine smile.

-----------

There was one person who was hardest for her to place. One mortal who confounded her at every turn. And that was Kodya. It could be, she thought as she watched him train...biting his lip in concentration as he let lose another arrow...that she simply knew him to well. He had been the mortal who gave her the courage to keep going when she thought Ra had been eaten by Apophis...deep in her mind she wasn’t certain he hadn’t been, surely there was nowhere the gods could not reach?...Kodya’s arrow hit the target.

“Good job Kody!” she cheered. He rolled his eyes at her as he went to pull it free.

“It’s only one arrow,” he said with a grunt, and notched it back to his bow.

“Still impressive,” she giggled. He didn’t respond, instead pulling it back to aim once more. She fell silent to let him concentrate, mind returning to her question from before.

Perhaps he was like Bastet, they were both skilled warriors devoted to their people. But, she thought as Kodya let lose the arrow, that was where the similarities ended. Bastet had been quick and clever, almost dancing when she fought. Kodya was steady and stubborn, holding his ground and refusing to yield until his task was complete.

The arrow hit the target again. “You did it!” she laughed, swinging an arm around him and pulling him close. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Nephthys!” he protested, a scowl on his lips. “Let me go! It’s still only two!”

She laughed again and pinched his cheek. “I’m being supportive silly!”

“Stop that!” He grimaced, and turned his face as far away from her hands as he could get it. But he did not throw her off, even though he had the strength to do so. Which in Kodya speak meant he didn’t completely hate it. She gave his cheek another pinch before letting go, darting out of his reach as he raised a hand to swat at hers.

--------------

“Anubis that was fantastic!” She threw her arms around her son, pinning his arms to his waste. “You looked just like a real judge!”

“Mother!” He complained, as she squeezed him tight. “I am a real judge!”

She giggled as his ears flattening on his head in outrage. “You most certainly are! And you’re doing fantastic at it! You make your mommy proud!”

“It was just two nights.” he grumbled to her hair. “The real test will be seeing if I can maintain it.”

She pinched his cheek. “Don’t talk like that! The second day is the most important one of all!”

“That’s what you said about the first one!” Anubis protested, and she giggled once again.

-------------

The pleasant memory faded from her eyes as Kodya released another arrow. She smiled fondly at him as it flew. His response to her fussing was very like her own son’s. She wondered if it was the connection she had been looking for, or if all young men responded in kind to affection from women whom they saw in a familial light.

Either way, she decided, it was a good fit. There were a lot of ways he was similar to her Anubis. Both were a bit rough around the edges, and lacked the natural charisma that Horus exuded in spades. But beneath that tough exterior, both were steady and kind. What they lacked in people skills, they made up for in gentle concern and loyalty. Anubis, she thought, would like Kodya quite a bit if ever got to meet.

Then again, if they did meet Anubis would try to stop her from meddling in Kodya’s love life. Speaking of which...

“How is wooing Gyrus going?” she asked, causing Kodya to jump and the arrow he had just loaded to go awry. “Made any progress?”

“Not so loud!” he hissed. “And it not...” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “...I’m not wooing him. I’m trying to help him.” Kodya glanced around the room to see no one was listening. “And yeah.” His shoulders loosened slightly. “I think I’m making progress.”

“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow and he blushed.

“Yeah.” His face softened into the thinking-of-Gyrus face she knew so well. “You know what he’s like, he’s got walls everywhere,” Nephthys nodded. He certainly did. “But I’ve just got to keep at it you know? Being useful, and offering to be his apprentice in wide enough intervals so he knows I’m serious but my asking doesn't overwhelm him or make him feel indebted.” Kodya waved his hands in the air, becoming more animated as he continued. “Yesterday, when I offered for the fifth time, he didn’t dismiss it right away! He actually looked like he was considering it as I carried him back to base camp. I think I’m wearing him down.”

---------------

“I think I’m wearing him down!” Set excitedly confided in her. “Ra’s really considering getting a guard for his sunboat. He didn’t dismiss me right away when I suggested it this time!”

Nephthys laughed. “Where was this persistence when you were courting me?” she asked as she playfully batted her eyes.

“Oh it was there,” Osiris casually swung an arm around Set’s shoulders. “You just didn’t notice it.”

“Osiris!” Set exclaimed, outrage written on his face. But, Nephthys noted as she hid a giggle behind her hand, he didn’t actually push Osiris off.

--------------

There was one trait that Anubis had never possessed, that made Kodya so different, she thought as she half listened to him ramble on about the latest mission, Gyrus, and how hard he was working to get his attention. One trait that she had been so glad to see gone from her son: Ambition. Anubis had never wanted to leave the underworld, hand never begrudged his little cousin his right to rule or the respect he received from the mortals. He had been content to simply stay in the shadows, minding the dead.

If Kodya had been in Anubis’s shoes, she thought, he would never have been able to make that choice. He would have fought to find a way out, not for credit or attention, but to stay by Horus’s side for as long as he could.

Like Set had for Ra.

She gave her head a small shake. Kodya was nothing like Set. There were no similarities. Kodya was kind and loyal and good.

Except...the back of her mind whispered to her. Except Set was loyal, loyaler to Ra than anyone else could possibly be. Even in his betrayal, none could deny that.

He had been kind too. Not to everyone, he did put on a show of being curt and gruff. But he had always been kind to her, tolerated her fussing and giggling. Enjoyed her company. Confessed his worries and fears. He had brought her gifts because they reminded him of her, doted on little Anubis, understood when she was in a bad mood and needed an excuse to leave. And he had...

-------------------

The party was going smoothly. Nephthys thought as she leaned against the wall in a back corner, exhausted. Oh thank Ra. Planning a party for all the gods and taking care of a four year old at the same time? That was an accomplishment even goddesses struggled with.

“Nephthys, there you are My Love!” Set exclaimed as he found her hiding place. “I was beginning to worry.”

She let out a soft groan, and leaned forward into his chest. “Remind me why we are throwing this party again?”

He chuckled as he looped his arms around her. “Everyone needs a chance to relax. It helps clear the air.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Besides, wasn’t it you who said we needed to arrange time to spend with Osiris and Isis outside of court life?”

“That is true,” she smiled against his warm skin. “But next time, let's convince them to throw it.”

“Considering your sister has a newborn, I highly doubt that would be plausible.” There was amusement in Set’s voice. Nephthys sighed deeply, letting her breath tickle his scared tissue. “I’ll tell you what,” Set tilted her chin up to him. “I’ve organized the entertainment for tonight. So you just sit back and enjoy the party, I’ll handle it from here, okay?”

She studied his face, noting the softened brow, gentle eyes, and the bags beneath them. “Fine,” she gave him a slight smile as she leaned her weight back onto her own to feet. “You win. I’ll relax and let you handle the rest.”

“That’s all I ask,” he said as he guided her back to the party, one arm still around her waist.

“Gods of Egypt!” Set announced from the side of the room, drawing all eyes to him. He raised his glass in salute. “Now you have drunken and eaten your fill, is it not the time for a few games to lift our spirits and strengthen our unity?”

There was splattered applause at this, and Sekhmet gave a resounding “Yeah!” of agreement. Nephthys leaned back against a pillar, interested to see what her husband would provide. By her side, Anubis tugged on her robe, and she absently handed him a sweet fig from the table beside her.

“I have a game for you,” Set said. “A game, and a prize.” He gave a tug on a sheet behind him, which came away to reveal an oddly shaped solid gold box standing upright. Jewels glistened from the sides in ornate pattern against the golden background. The gods assembled gasped in amazement. It was beautiful.

Nephthys joined them. In part, because she had not seen the box before and had not realized her husband had ordered such an expensive prize. In part because she knew it must have taken effort to smuggle it into the house without her notice, meaning he had planned this all along. She stroked her son’s hair absently. That clever man!

“Now the rules of this game is simple,” Set smiled at the audience, “Whoever fits inside the box perfectly, wins the box and the game!” He bowed as the audience cheered, decidedly more animated now they could be the ones to take home the prize.

Set held out his hand to help the first guest in, who happened to be Hathor. It was far to short for her, but she didn’t seem to mind, skipping out with a giggle into Sekhmet’s arms. From there on, every god tried and failed to fit, although a few come close. Sekhmet in particular almost fit, but she was a bit too wide and the lid wouldn’t shut.

Finally it was her turn. Set helped her up gracefully to the box. It wouldn’t fit. She could tell before she even stepped inside. Her head barely came up to the shoulders. This was made for someone much taller. Ah well, she thought as she accepted the hand helping her out. It made sense. Set couldn’t exactly let a gift like this stay in his house. That would hardly be sporting.

But who could it be for? Her gaze alighted on Osiris, patiently waiting his turn as Set laughingly helped Anubis into the box, the little dear barely coming up to the knees. She shot Set a wide smile. Oh this was perfect! Presenting a gift like this to Osiris would be the perfect way to begin mending the broken bridge between them, just like she had asked him too.

She watched in glee as Osiris stepped up to the box. He was definitely the right height, and the right width. He stepped inside, fitting as if it had been made for him. Which was no doubt true. Set closed the lid, and it swung shut. Nephthys giggled as Anubis gave another impatient tug on her robes.

A scream came out from the sarcophagus, loud and full of pain. Set smiled as he drew a sword slick with blood from the catch between the lid and its side. The box began to move as Osiris struggled, but Set snapped chains around it to keep it in place.

Nephthys stood frozen, unsure of what had just happened. Had Set just..?

“What are you doing?” Isis shouted, but Sobek moved to intercept her, weapon drawn. He gave a fiendish grin, crocodile teeth snapping. “The king is dead. Long live the new king.” A hundred of his cronies emerged from the doors, surrounding the gods. Isis tries to use her magic, but her drunkeness makes her miss and hit Sekhmet instead, who went down with a scream of rage.

Meanwhile Set continued to add swords to the sarcophagus, leaving the one at the neck for last. Osiris was screaming until the end. When he finished, Set picked up the box and threw it out the open window and into the Nile river behind them. “I am the king now.” He smirked. “And any who stand in my way shall receive the same fate.”

Nephthys felt sweat trickle down her face as her body began to tremble. It was not her husband standing up there anymore, but the monster from her vision. He snarled with pride as he pointed his men towards Isis and her helpless infant. Anubis seemed to see it too, pressing himself to her legs with a whimper. That whimper sprang Nephthys into action. She grabbed her little son’s hand in one of hers, Isis’s in the other, and fled.

The furious cry that echos in her ears was not her husbands, but a beasts.

---------------

“Nephthys? Nephthys!” A voice was calling out to her. She flinched back, putting as much space between herself and the speaker as possible. “Set!” she pleaded.

“I am not Set,” the voice responded. She opened her eyes to see Kodya, hand outstretched, eyebrows knit with worry and concern. Her earlier thoughts hit her like a train as she catches a glimpse of the blue glow in his hand, and she flinches again, raising one arm to protect her face. Kodya lowered his arm, eyes beginning to water. “It’s only me,” his voice wavered. “Only Kodya.”

“Kodya,” she said, and slowly lowered her arm. Because of course it was. He was not Set, or Anubis, or Bastet. This mortal that sat before her, trembling and confused and so very small, held no godly essence at all. It was foolishness to compare him to the great gods she had known, when his very existence was only a blip in infinity. She slowly felt her shoulders relax.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn't mean to frighten you.”

“Frighten me?” Kodya cursed in a language she didn’t know. “Nephthys what was that? You were completely unresponsive for ages!”

“Oh was I?” she brushed a hand over her face, to find it covered in tears. “I’m sorry. I just had...” she took a deep breath, “...a bad flashback.”

“Oh,” Kodya said. He glanced around, seeming uncertain. “Do you want to talk about it?” he offered. She shook her head. He frowned, and then said with the greatest of reluctance, “Do you...need a hug?”

She grabbed him, burying her head in his shoulder as she burst into tears. Kodya seemed startled, but placed an arm loosely around her body, and awkwardly patted her on the back as she sobbed.

They stayed like that for a very long time.

------------------

She thought she was done matching gods to Kodya after that. But there was one god she left out, one she completely forgot to consider as his match. She remembered it offhand, as she held the sobbing man in her arms many, many years later.

She sat stroking Kodya’s back and tried to hold back her own tears, still in shock at the loss of so many of their friends. The healers were decimated. Ciboulette was gone now, and Ragan raged like Sehmet before Hathor had come into her life. But the worst hit was Kodya. Kodya who everyone now looked at with suspicion, simply because of proximity. Kodya who had killed the man he loved, and had to hide his pain from everyone or face the hatred in his place.

She held him here in the darkness, and in her arms he was finally allowed to cry as much as his broken heart demanded. Here he could morn for the loved one he had lost. For Gyrus, the monster who had betrayed them all for a taste of knowledge outside their reach.

It crossed her mind then, to wonder if this proved he was not anything like Isis. But that wasn’t right, the voice in the back of her mind whispered. This is exactly what Isis would do if she had the opportunity to gain more knowledge.

Kodya took a shaky breath, and she pulled him closer to herself. Brave Kodya, who had chosen to stay and fight. Who had saved Don, even if it meant going against the man he loved. Kodya who had given up everything to protect one he loved from another he loved. And that was when she realized what god he was most like. The only one she had never considered.

He was Nephthys, the Guiding Goddess of Death and Protection, who loved so fiercely it set a fire in her chest. Who tried so hard to protect all her loved ones, old and new. And who ultimately failed them all.

This mortal, so small in her arms, somehow shared the very characteristics that made her who she was. And it was only as she understood this, stroking the back of the broken man crying in her shoulder, that she knew true despair.

#room of swords #room of swords nephthys #ros Nephthys #nephthys #room of swords kodya #room of swords gyrus #ros don #ros Anan #ros feather #ros ainju #ros ciboulette #ros ragan #set #Anubis #Isis (goddess)#Horus #Ra #egyptian gods #room of swords fanfic

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justaghostingon · 4 years

Text

Merfolk are Overrated

Chapter 3: The Age of Money

In which Kodya learns how very little he knows of mermaids, fails at lying, and begins to teach the first lesson.

read on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041904/chapters/62338603 or below the cut

Kodya scowled at the wheel, eyes firmly ahead and not on the bright-colored heads that would occasionally pop out and then duck back under. Call it petty, but he had lost a whole catch of fish to their stomachs, and a whole day to the Kid’s song. He did not want to talk to them right now.

A green head popped up to the left, closer now. Kodya turns his head deliberately to the right until it popped back down again.

“Okay that’s it!” The red-head popped up directly in front of the boat and spread her arms. “Stop ignoring Gyrus after ye promised to help him! Or is the word of humans worth so little?”

Kodya let the motor stop, unwilling to actually run her over. He leaned over the edge and scowled at Red. “I’m doing my job: fishing. So I can make up for the money you guys lost me by eating all my fish!”

Red crossed her arms with a huff. “We saved yer boat! That was no easy feat! Ye should be grateful!” And Kodya’s bit his lip, because yes, it probably had been hard to do. But still.

The water had been everywhere, stealing his air as he plummeted into its depths, not knowing which way was up or down. He gripped the steering wheel tighter as the memory washed over him. He’d been completely helpless, and the thought terrified him more than he was willing to admit.

He half wanted to throw that back in Red’s face, pointing out how the Kid had nearly drowned him after explicitly saying he wouldn’t. But that wasn’t fair, his fingers relaxed slightly on the wheel. Gyrus had saved him, and he’d been so apologetic about it. He didn’t want to make him feel guiltier.

“Why do you care if I talk to the Kid or not?” He shot back instead, because even if he wasn’t cruel, he was still pretty angry. “What are you, his mother?”

Red drew back, open shock on her face, and Fluffy winced. Kodya had just enough time to think her reaction seemed way too extreme for such a childish insult before she narrowed her eyes, fire blazing inside them.

“I am the champion of the Queen,” she hissed, steam rising from all around her, “I have protected him since he was an infant!” She brought her tail down on the water with a sharp splash, and the water that hit Kodya burned like fire.

“What?” Kodya exclaimed, bafflement temporarily exceeding pain. “But you’re both the same age!” Kodya knew he wasn’t the best judge of a woman’s age, but even he knew the difference between a woman in her twenties and a woman old enough to be his mother. His eyes roved her youthful face, free of wrinkles and stress. She didn’t look any older than Kodya, in fact if Kodya had been pressed, he’d have thought she was younger.

The mermaids it seemed, disagreed. Fluffy’s mouth hung open at this pronouncement, and even Red seemed to forget her anger to stare at him like he’d grown a second head. “How old do ye think I am, human?” she asked, placing a hand on her chest.

“I don’t know,” Kodya hedged as his entire mind screamed ‘it's a trap!’ Hadn’t his mother and Nephthys always warned him never to guess a ladies age? “...31?” he says hesitantly, quietly adding a decade.

Red’s tail twitched. “I may not remember the exact number, but when I was young you humans did not travel the distances you do now with such ease.” Kodya blinked at her and she sighed. “I suppose if I had to give a number I’d say around 1000.”

Kodya felt his head spin. “That can’t be true,” he muttered as he shook it to try and clear it. “Nothing lives that long.”

“I am actually quite young as far as Siren’s go,” Red sniffs. “The last King was 3000 when he died.”

“3000,” Kodya repeated, still trying to make sense of it all. He gripped the edge of the boat, trying to steady himself. “Is the Kid…?”

“I found sea glass!” the Kid exclaimed, bursting from the water with his prize glittering in his upright hands, and sending Kodya stumbling backwards in shock. “To pay for the fish! You said it worked for you as an exchange?” he adds hopefully as he turns his wide eyes on Kodya’s prone form. “Kodya?” he asked, then turned his attention to Red and Fluffy, “Did I miss something?”

Red crossed her arms, and Kodya quickly turned his attention to the sea glass the Kid held up, desperate to change the subject. “I said I didn’t mind it,” he admitted. “But I doubt my buyers are going to see it the same way.”

“Oh,” Gyrus looked down at the glass in his hands. “You said Alistair wouldn’t want it either.” Kodya shook his head. The Kid frowned. “But you said that there were other humans who would want it though.”

Kodya paused, because he did say that, although he racked his brain to think who exactly would be willing to take it that would actually give him something in exchange. It was pretty, but they’d have to be pretty stupid to want something so superficial, or sell to stupid people.

“Nephthys!” Kodya snapped his fingers. “Nephthys can sell it to the tourists who come by her shop.”

Gyrus’ face lit up. “So it will make up for the fish we ate?” Fluffy looked on hopefully beside him.

“Not even close,” Kodya shook his head and Gyrus and Fluffy’s shoulders slumped. “I’ve still got to keep working all day today to make up for it.”

Fluffy hesitated, then pulled up a fish she had been nibbling on and held it out towards Kodya. Kodya pinched his brow. “That’s not going to help. You guys really aren’t getting exchange rates.”

“Well it's not like you’ve explained!” Red huffed. Kodya scowled.

“You know what? Fine!” Kodya scooped up the sea glass from Gyrus’ hands and carefully placed it in his lunch box. “I’ll teach you.”

“Really?” the Kid exclaimed, eyes shining.

“Absolutely,” Kodya smirked. “Tomorrow.”

------------------

“Kody!” Nephthys cried as Kodya pushed his way past the beads hanging in the doorway of her shop.

“Hey Neph,” he replied, wrinkling his nose as multiple heavy perfumes hit it all at once. Nephthys always insisted that the scents chosen were designed to relax the people who came by and make them more willing to shop. Kodya supposed it half worked, as he eyed the brightly labeled jars marked with words like “potions” and “good luck.” At least when all the oxygen diverted to their lungs they had less in their brains to see through the obvious hoaxes.

Nephthys bustled around the edge of the counter, purple “witch’s” hat bouncing on her head. “What’s the big occasion?” she winked. “You never come to my shop!”

Kodya shrugged, careful not to knock over any of the little jars in the narrow space. “I’m not big on all that magic stuff, thanks, and besides, way too many tourists visit for my taste.” Mermaids might be real, but Kodya was willing to bet that those magical potions of hers were nothing more than fancy tea and the placebo effect.

“Oh Kody,” Nephthys giggled. “When will you learn that there is more to the world than what you see?” She drew closer and frowned. “Wait a minute, something's different in your aura.” As she leaned into his personal space, hand on her chin, Kodya panicked, wondering if she’d inexplicably guessed about the mermaids.

Then Nephthys’s face broke into a wide grin. Kodya had just enough time to think: she knows, before she let out a high pitched squeal. “You’ve met someone!”

“I have not!” Kodya sputtered, the image of Gyrus’ smiling face flooding his vision. Oh no, he could feel his cheeks heating up. Think of something else, anything else. Red’s angry glare replaced Gyrus’ smile, and all previous warmth snuffed out like a candle doused in ice water.

But it was too late. “Oh Kody,” Nephthys laughs. “You know you can’t lie to me. Besides,” she gave him a wink. “Your aura isn’t nearly as drab as it usually is. You’re not lonely anymore!”

And wow, if that didn’t hit hard. Kodya knew that he wasn’t the most sociable guy, and he knew that even if she never said it, Nephthys worried about him alot. Kodya saw the hope glittering in her eyes and found he couldn’t lie to her. But he couldn’t exactly tell her the truth either. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“They aren’t people,” he started. Nephthys’s smile stiffened, and something in her eyes sharpened.

“What do you mean?” she asked, voice even, perhaps curious, but not at all like the earlier excitement. If Kodya weren’t so worried about how best to explain he’d be concerned.

“They’re dolphins,” Kodya said, as a flash of inspiration hit him.

“Dolphins,” Nephthys repeated, voice flat.

“Yes!” Kodya nodded rapidly. “They started following my boat, helping me fish and just hanging out. You know, like those dolphins they’d talk about on those nature documentaries we used to watch in high school?” He rubbed the back of his neck and hoped she bought it.

Nephthys’s eyes narrow as they search Kodya’s face. For a second Kodya feared she’d seen through his lie, but her face broke into a warm smile. “That’s so CUTE!!!!” She shouts, and Kodya winces from the volume. “Sorry, sorry,” she apologies as she stepped back. “I’m just so happy for you Kody!”

“Yeah well,” Kodya looks down at his feet. “We’ll see how it goes.” They were only sticking around to learn about human values, and if the Kid could already sing Kodya into the water, it probably wouldn’t take too long for him to figure out the rest. Speaking of which…

“Hey Nephthys? Do you still have those old dollars you laminated? For that weird project you did in high school?”

“The Advantages of Waterproof Money! I never understood why it didn’t take off!” Kodya facepalmed as Nephthys smiled. “Why do you ask?”

“I need to buy it from you,” he said as he pulled out his lunch box, unclipping the cover to reveal the sea glass carefully stowed inside. “And I have something to trade.”

“Sea glass!” Nephthys eagerly grabbed a piece and held it to the light. “Look at how smooth it becomes in the ocean water! You know,” she gave Kodya a sly grin. “There’s powerful magic in objects that belong to two worlds.”

“And plenty of tourists that will buy it for far too much when you tell them so,” Kodya grinned back. “How much can I get for it?”

“I’ll give you thirty dollars,” Nephthys offered, and Kodya fought the urge to scold her for paying such an inflated price for something so common. “Plus the laminated money.”

“Done!” Kodya pushed the lunch box towards Nephthys as she rummaged in her register, pulling out thirty dollars, and strangely, the laminated money. Kodya raised an eyebrow, and Nephthys gave a high pitched laugh.

“I just happened to bring it to the shop on accident one day and kept forgetting to put it back,” she explained with a wave of her hand, and Kodya sighed, very familiar with his friend’s forgetfulness.

“This is quite a bit of sea glass,” Nephthys said as she began to put the sea glass into little jars. “When did you find the time to collect it all?”

Kodya shrugged as he absently fingered through the laminated bills, wondering what else he would need to teach Gyrus. “My friend,” he said absently.

“The dolphin?” Now it was Nephthys’ turn to raise an eyebrow.

Oh no. Kodya jumped, nearly dropping the bills in his hands. He fumbled with them as Nephthys starred, in equal parts amused and judgemental. “Yes! Yes, the dolphins. They definitely brought me the sea glass. Yes.” He nodded furiously, and Nephthys’s lips purse like they do when she’d trying to hold back a smile. He scowled at her. “Dolphins are incredibly clever creatures.” He said, remembering the nature documentaries.

“Of course,” Nephthys agreed, amusement coloring her voice. Kodya straightened and turned to walk out the door again, before she put together what's really going on. He almost made it too, but just before the door could close she called out, “Kodya?”

“Yes?” he grunted as he turned back.

“Give your dolphin my love!” She waved, sending him a knowing wink. Love? Kodya couldn’t imagine saying that to anyone, he wasn’t Nephthys, who even after seven years still maintained an ambiguous accent and forigen customs. Although...Gyrus’ face swam in Kodya’s vision once again. If he…? Kodya didn’t let himself finish the thought, shaking his head violently.

“Hehe,” Nephthys giggled and Kodya felt his ears go red.

“Nephthys!”

------------------

“Alright,” Kodya says as the three mermaids sit awkwardly in his boat. “To start off this lesson, I figured I’d show you the final goal.” He spread the laminated dollars on the deck in front of the three mermaids.

“This is your exchange?” Gyrus asked as he reached out a hand, stopping just shy of contact.

“You can touch it,” Kodya bit back a smile. “It’s covered in plastic so the water on your hands doesn’t damage it.” the Kid eagerly grabbed the four dollars, holding them up to the light as Red and Fluffy crowded closer for a better look.

“It’s all very green and drab,” Red frowned as she pulled the ten out of the Kid’s hands, casually moving it to the left as Fluffy tried to bite it. “That seems impractical. How would you keep track of it?”

“It’s not about the color, it's about the numbers on the paper,” Kodya crossed his arms, feeling vaguely insulted. Fluffy leaned back towards the Kid, this time succeeding to get the corner of a laminated dollar in her mouth.

“It’s not actually seaweed Sylvia,” Gyrus scolded as he pulled it gently out of her lips. “It’s their exchange. They call it ‘dollars’!”

Fluffy raised an eyebrow as if to say, you sure?

Kodya pinched his brow. This was going to be harder than he thought.

“Wait a minute,” Gyrus wondered out loud as he flipped through the three remaining bills. “These dollars, they’re all different!”

Kodya’s head snapped up. Or maybe not. “Can you tell me what you notice that’s different?” he asked, trying not to sound as excited as he felt.

The Kid examined the one, five, and twenty dollar bills, a slight frown on his face. “The faces are all unique,” he finally said, and Kodya sighed. Well at least it was a start.

“Yes, the faces are different.” He leaned forward, pointing to the corner of the one dollar bill, “But what's most important is the number here. It tells you what the bill is worth.”

Red and Fluffy leaned back over the Kid’s shoulders to examine the numbers. “These squiggles are supposed to show worth?” Red wrinkled her nose.

Fluffy nodded, hands cupping around the picture as if to say: It's all designed around the picture! It should be the most important thing!

“Look I didn’t design this!” Kodya snapped. “This is just the way it is!”

“But why have the pictures changed between dollars if it's not important?” Gyrus insisted. “Surely they must have some cultural significance.” Kodya opened his mouth to tell him to forget it but Gyrus added, “the significance might help me understand an aspect of the value human’s place in it.”

Kodya closed his mouth. There might be some truth in that. His shoulders sagged as he looked at the three bills in the Kid’s hands and the one in Red’s. Now if only he could remember who these guys were.

The first at least, was easy. “This is George Washington,” he pointed to the face on the one dollar bill and the Kid’s eyes lit up. “He was our first president.”

“President?” Gyrus prompts, leaning forward and staring up at Kodya. Kodya gulped.

“He leads our country,” Kodya explained. “Every four years everyone gets together and votes. Votes means to say everyone shares their opinion on who’s going to lead.” He added as he saw the Kid’s mouth open. “The person with the most votes wins.”

Fluffy cocked her head, eyes sharpening on Kodya, a strange interest gleaming inside them.

“So your leaders must get these votes every four years for the rest of their lives?” Red scoffs. “That seems like a waste of time. If the leader is good, then simply let them stay.” The Kid looked down and Fluffy placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. She frowned at Red.

Kodya shook his head. “They can’t stay in office for more than two terms, which means they can only be voted in twice. After that it's someone else's term. It's done to ensure we never have a bad ruler we have to put up with for more than four to eight years.”

Red crossed her arms and sniffed. “That sounds absolutely…”

“Wonderful,” Gyrus sighed from Fluffy’s side. Fluffy nodded. Red’s head whipped around to stare at the both of them. “Oh don’t look at us like that,” Gyrus’ tail twitched. “Mom’s a great ruler, but with this method she could take a break! Maybe make a decision for herself? Wouldn’t that be nice?” He looked at Red, who bit her lip.

Kodya got the feeling there was a lot more going on here that he wasn’t aware of, and that if they kept going on this tangent, then they wouldn’t get off it. “Ahem,” he coughed into his fist. “George Washington’s face is on the one dollar bill,” he said, hoping to bring them back on track.

It seemed to work, as the Kid’s attention switched back to the bill in his hands. “the first president for the first bill!” he exclaimed. “I get it!” Gyrus studied the other two bills in his hands. “Are these the second and third presidents?”

“Nope,” Kodya plucked the five dollar bill from his hands and held it up. “This is the next smallest bill. The five dollar bill. It’s worth five of the ones with George Washington on it.”

“We’ve skipped all the way to five?” Red threw up her hands. “Your exchange is ridiculous!”

“Tori!” The Kid complained, “don’t be rude!”

Fluffy pointed at the picture and looked up at Kodya, head tilting to one side. Kodya took this as a prompt to continue talking. “The person on this bill is Abraham Lincoln.” He said, a bit louder than normal to make Red and the Kid stop arguing and look at him. It worked, with Gyrus eagerly scooting forward and Red huffing as she followed. “He is the second most important president in our history. And no,” he added as he saw the Kid open his mouth, “he was not the second president we had. He came much later.”

“How much later?” The Kid managed to get out, and Kodya paused. He really had absolutely no idea. High school history had been so long ago. He wracked his brain before continuing. “I’m not sure, four score and seven years or whatever that means, I think it's around a hundred. Look,” he said, waving the hand that didn’t hold the bill, “That’s not the point. The point is that this guy,-” he shook the bill for emphasis, “-stopped a civil war...that's a war where half the country tried to leave, and freed all the slaves while he was at it.”

“I know what slavery is!” The Kid’s tail swung back and forth eagerly, nearly hitting Tori and smacking Sylvia in the face. “That’s how we got Mingo and Obi!” Kodya blinked, unsure of what a mango had to do with slavery. At his confusion, the Kid straightened his back and began to speak in the rhythmic tone of a storyteller telling a well known tale, “Mingo and Obi were once human slaves held captive in a great boat by slavers. But where most simply despaired, they would not give up on hope. They tried to escape again and again with the hope of stealing a small boat and heading home. Eventually the slavers deemed them too much trouble to keep and had them thrown into the sea. But before they could perish, my mom heard their pleas, and ordered the sorcerer to turn them into Sirens.”

“You can do that?!” Kodya exclaimed, fixating on the transformation, and not the fact that Gyrus was speaking like he knew people who had obviously lived for several hundred years. Once again Kodya was faced with the possibility that the Kid was not so much of a kid after all, and the thought left him with an uncomfortable tingling in his stomach.

“Not without a sea sorcerer,” Red hissed, “and not without serious cost. I would not recommend trying it yourself human, a sorcerer always asks for more than you can give.” Fluffy gave a sad nod, still rubbing her head from where the Kid had whacked her.

“Okay,” Kodya said, deciding to move on from this too before he lost his nerve, and continue with the lesson. “Tori is holding the ten dollar bill. It’s worth ten George Washingtons or two Abraham Lincolns” He waved a hand towards her still feeling dazed. “I don’t really remember who he was, I think he was in a musical maybe?”

“Musical?” The Kid repeated, head tilting to one side and looking so very young and not at all like someone who might have lived centuries.

“It's like a play, but with singing,” Kodya explained, and when the Kid still looked confused he added, “people act out and sing a story for an audience.” The three mermaids’ eyes all began to sparkle.

“He’s a knowledge-spinner!” Gyrus beamed, Red looked down at her dollar with new respect, and even Fluffy looked a bit guilty for trying to bite it.

“Truly a man whose face is worthy of preservation on this exchange,” Red nodded. “I knew I had good taste.”

Kodya had a niggling feeling that they were all severely misrepresenting the man on that bill, but he didn’t remember enough to prove them wrong. “The last bill in the Kid’s hands is the 20 dollar bill. It’s worth twenty George Washingtons, four Lincolns, or two of the knowledge-spin-whatever. And before you ask,” he pointed at Gyrus, “I have no idea who he was.” The Kid’s face fell, and he stared down sadly at the last bill.

“You should ask my knowledge-spinner,” Red held up her bill. “I’m sure he could tell you.”

“Yeah, any guy on these bills has been dead for centuries,” Kodya shrugged. The three mermaids gave separate cries of outrage.

“Your knowledge-spinner is dead?” The Kid said.

“No wonder you humans are so backwards,” Red crossed her arms.

Kodya opened his mouth to protest, but Fluffy gave a sharp tug on his shirt sleeve. She pointed to the picture on the twenty, and then tapped her head, making a confused face.

“How do we keep track of its worth if we don’t bother to learn who he is?” Kodya translated, feeling a bit proud at doing it effectively. “That’s easy. We don’t need to. We-,” he rummaged in his bag, “-just read the number in the corners. Now,” he pulled out the four small white boards he’d bought with the money from the sea glass, “-who wants a marker?”

-----------------

It took a few minutes to teach the mermaids how exactly the whiteboards worked, water’s ability to erase markings did not help matters, but once things were settled Kodya got right down to the lesson. “We’ll start with the first nine numbers,” he said as he drew a one on the board. “Now copy me.”

Red, Fluffy and the Kid all obediently placed their markers on their whiteboards and started drawing. When they finished, each one held it up for Kodya to inspect.

One wasn’t exactly a hard number to draw, more of a dash really, but Kodya was still relieved to see Gyrus had grasped the concept perfectly. Red’s was a little messier, but still clear. Then he saw Fluffy’s.

“What is that supposed to be?” Kodya exclaimed as he looked at the line with the little triangle on top. Sylvia held up one finger. And Kodya pinched his brow. “It's only supposed to be a line Fluffy, no triangle on top.”

Fluffy frowned, but slowly corrected her drawing, until it looked like a very slim wedge or a poorly drawn one. Kodya sighed, and decided to just take it.

“Now this is a two,” Kodya drew a two beside the one. “It’s a bit trickier. Remember, curve and line.”

“Curve and line,” the Kid repeated and he and the others copied it down. Kodya looked at his work and found it once again perfect. Red’s was shaky, but legible, and Fluffy’s…

“Fluffy!” Kodya tugged at his hair in frustration. “I said no triangles! There are no triangles in two!”

Fluffy hugged her whiteboard close to her chest, the drawing now of two lines, each with a mini triangle on the top, connected by the line forming the triangle’s third side. She held up two fingers and pointed to her drawing.

“You can’t just make up whatever you want!” Kodya growled. “You’ll never learn to read numbers if you do that!” Red shifted angrily, but Gyrus opened his mouth before she could.

“Maybe she’s just using another written form?” Gyrus offered. “You humans have different languages, why can’t you have different symbols for numbers?”

“Everyone uses these numbers!” Kodya replied, throwing up his hands. “All over the world! No one’s used symbols, especially ones like that, in forever!”

Fluffy crossed her arms in a way that clearly said, I do.

“Uggg,” Kodya massaged his forehead as he tried to get a grip. There was something odd about Fluffy’s drawings, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. They just seemed so old, far too simple for hieroglyphics and the chinese system, but somehow similar. “Just how old are you?” He grumbled.

Fluffy pulled her whiteboard even closer and turned her back on all three. Red and the Kid all exchanged glances.“We don’t know,” Red began.

“She just showed up around 50 years ago,” Gyrus explained. “While we were swimming up in the icy seas in summer. She couldn’t talk, and nothing besides basic gestures seemed to mean anything to her. We took her with us because we couldn’t find any other pods in the area.”

Well, that sucked. Kodya looked at Sylvia, still drawing on her whiteboard, and felt bad for being so rude. For all he knew, this strange number system was all she had left of her family. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Fluffy didn’t give him the time.

Slyvia turned around, holding her whiteboard high above her head, and beamed. Gyrus, Red, and Kodya’s eyes all turned towards the image she had drawn.

“It’s a shark,” Red said, eyebrows drawn in confusion. “Why are you showing us a shark?” Fluffy facepalmed.

“Is that supposed to be a mermaid?” the Kid pointed at the very little figure beside the big shark. “Is she supposed to be that small?” Fluffy nodded eagerly, but the Kid still looked confused.

The mermaid was really tiny, Kodya privately agreed, like a tenth, or even a twentieth of the size of the shark. A shark that size wouldn’t have existed for millenia. A memory of a faded poster flickered through his mind, one left over from his embarrassing dinosaur faze as a child. “Is that supposed to be a Megalodon?” He asked.

Fluffy cocked her head. Not in denial, but not in agreement either. It occurred to Kodya that they probably didn’t call them Megalodons back in the day, and he hurried to explain. “A Megalodon was this huge shark that lived way back in the past. It was about half the size of a great blue whale.”

Fluffy jumped in the air, waving her whiteboard excitedly as she flopped around, tail smacking the side of the railing with a wet thunk. Red and the Kid stared at her in shock as Kodya felt lightheaded. “But they went extinct in the ice age!” He said as he tried to steady himself. “That was three million years ago! It’s practically a dinosaur!”

“Are ye really so old?” Red asked Sylvia, who tried to mime some kind of explanation, but kept moving too fast to make sense. Gyrus watched them for a few seconds, before turning to Kodya, seemingly concluding that he would provide a clearer answer.

“What’s a dinosaur?” He asked, big amethyst eyes staring up at Kodya like he had all the answers in the world. Kodya had just enough time to think, we are never getting back on topic, before his inner seven-year-old self took over, and he launched into a lecture on all the different types of dinosaurs. But somehow, Kodya found as Tori and Sylvia joined Gyrus in listening attentively, he didn’t mind at all.

#room of swords #room of swords fanfic #gyrus axelei #kodya karevic #tori grieve #ros sylvia #merfolk are overrated #gyrus #kodya #back by popular demand #mermaid au

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