December Contest Submission #13: Shadow Dancing

Words: ca. 4500 Setting: Babylon 5/Legends of Tomorrow AU Lemon: Not full lemon, but citrus C/W: None

Day 0

Elsa stood at the transport gates with Anna, holding one of her carry-ons. The PA overhead crackled to life. “Virgin Galactic Flight 1840 from Mars Colony to New Ahtohallan Colony boards at Gate C7. All passengers must have Identicards with them at all times,” the pleasant monotone droned, causing Elsa to wince from the sheer volume of it.

She turned to regard her sister, who was bouncing with excitement. “Elsa, don’t look so glum! I won’t be gone that long, okay?” she beamed, hugging her tightly, her green plaid shirt wrinkling in the hug.

The overhead PA called Anna’s flight. She grabbed her Interplanetary Expeditions carry-on from Elsa with an eager smile. “Hey, I’ll be back soon enough, and then you can tell me what it was you wanted to talk about this morning, okay? See you in two weeks.”

“Do you have to go?” Elsa asked plaintively, looking out the window at the starships lined up on the runway, ruddy from Mars’ red skies.

“You’ll be fine, Elsa,” she grinned, giving her sister a peck on the cheek.

“Anna… I love you. I-”

“I love you too, sis!” Anna shouted as she flounced down the boarding area, nearly colliding with a dozen other passengers as she tried to both wave to her sister and dig her holographic ID out of her purse.

Elsa sighed as her sister scanned her boarding pass and entered the spaceway. I’m in love with you, she thought, completing the sentence that stuck in her throat. I’ll confess everything when she gets back.

Day 1

Elsa sat in abject shock as the wallscreen in her tiny apartment’s living room played the news on endless repeat. The computer-generated newscaster re-read the story again.

“Virgin Galactic Flight 1840 went missing earlier today, failing to check in at the transfer point on Io. Patrol ships from Ganymede were unable to find any evidence of foul play, and security forces from Mars Colony are en route to assist with the investigation.”

I’m sure everything’s fine. Maybe their transponder just broke and they jumped normally. Anna will call me when she gets to New Ahtohallan tomorrow.

Day 3

Anna never called.

Day 7

“Earthforce patrols still have not located Flight 1840; Governor Montoya told ISN News earlier today that Mars Colony has declared it lost and called off search efforts.”

Elsa sat on the couch, sobbing into her hands. She’d barely slept for a week, eaten nothing, and just watched ISN for any word of her sister.

Declared lost, she repeated over and over again; whether in her mind or aloud, she couldn’t tell.

Day 21

The memorial service was small and quiet; she’d paid enough to get holographic bandwidth on Stellarcom so that her parents could virtually attend. They consoled her as best as they could while processing their own grief.

“There’s so much I didn’t tell her, Papa. So much I left unsaid,” she cried softly.

Her father reached out as though to pat her on the shoulder, the gesture futile. “Were your last words in anger, Elsa?” he asked quietly, his arm around his wife’s waist.

“No, no, of course not. The last thing I told her was that I loved her,” she sniffled.

Iduna gave Elsa a small, sympathetic smile. “That’s all that matters, dear. Whatever happened to her, she knows you love her. We all love her. And we’ll hold out hope that perhaps there’s something mysterious at work, and maybe she’ll return to us one day somehow.”

Day 30

Elsa touched the holographic screen at her workstation with a heavy sigh, closing down her cybernetics work for the day. As one of the top cybernetics experts at Edgars Industries, she helped build the most advanced AI for Earthforce starships. Prior to the incident, she’d loved her work, designing and building the most complex, elegant neural architectures that could steer ships through the chaos of hyperspace or dance like butterflies during the fog of war. She’d had almost a month of personal leave to deal with Anna’s disappearance, but had to get back to work eventually, and now every day felt like drudgery, her mind lost in a fog of fading memories she desperately tried to hold onto.

As she walked the streets of Solis Planum to the surface transit tubes, ad after ad assaulted her, from pharmaceuticals to robotic servants to seedy brothels. She rolled her eyes at most of the ads, but one caught her eye in the transit shuttle from the AVA Corporation.

“Our new Enhanced Labor Service Androids can ease your stress and give you more time back in your day. Stop struggling and working 25 hours a day. With our E.L.S.A.s, help is never far away! Call now or stop by our showroom on Syria Planum,” the ad blared. Elsa chuckled slightly at the name of the machines, but looked more closely at the models shown. One had its artificial hair colored and braided just like Anna’s…

Day 61

“Ah yes, Miss… Agnarsdottir. You called us about our E.L.S.A. models?”, an overly slick salesman with greased-back red hair and absurd sideburns greeted her, electronic clipboard in hand.

Elsa nodded, her shyness making her cringe. “I… I was interested in a model that could support custom code. Do you have any?”

The salesman arched his eyebrow at her. “Well… yes, we do have some more elite models like the N-9 that can support… customization. But pardon me for saying so, those are very… expensive. I’m not sure that they’d be the best fit for someone like you,” he oozed condescendingly, eyeing her casual state of dress.

Elsa rolled her eyes and waved her Identicard over his clipboard. The display immediately flashed her name and public financial history, with a “NO CREDIT LIMIT” indicator pulsing on the customer form. “That should be more than satisfactory, Mr…?”

The salesman coughed. “Err… yes, yes it is. And it’s Hans, Hans Westergaard, Miss Agnarsdottir. Now,” he grinned rapaciously, visions of fat commissions dancing in his mind’s eye. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

“I need a model that has the processing power to support a custom neural model and as much storage as possible.”

Hans whistled and made a show of tapping on his clipboard. “I see. Well, we have some of the N-8 LMDs available with added processing power, but if you want the best of the best, you’ll be wanting an E.L.S.A. N-9. Will you be using it for business or pleasure?”

Elsa’s stomach lurched at the salesman’s intimation. “Why would that make a difference?”

“Oh, well, you know, some people need them to be a little more… fully functional, if you know what I mean. Anatomically correct,” he smirked. “Of course we want to make sure all our customers are fully… satisfied. Most of our customers who just need menial labor don’t bother with details like anatomy, but I’m guessing if you need neural support, you probably want… fine detail,” he winked at Elsa. “I have one of the N-9s and believe me, if you’re after, ahem, pleasure, they certainly satisfy.”

Elsa managed not to throw up in her mouth and grabbed the clipboard out of Hans’ sweaty hands. She tapped in her order exactly and handed it back to him. “Don’t say another word.”

He naturally began to speak, and Elsa immediately shushed him. “Not. Another. Word. Authorize the purchase, collect the commission of a lifetime, and then never speak to me again, are we clear? Nod if you agree.”

Hans mutely nodded, angered by the woman’s boldness, but cowed by the fact that the commission on the order was larger than any sale he had ever made thus far. He entered in a few final details, silently authorized the sale, the board turned green, and he walked away, fuming.

Day 102

The massive shipping crate from AVA Corporation rested on her apartment doorstep. She wheeled it inside, pressed the release buttons to unseal it, and rested her eyes on the android within. She reached out and tentatively touched it, recoiling immediately. The android was incredibly cold to the touch.

She burst into tears. She’d had the android made to Anna’s exact likeness, but seeing it in front of her, icy cold from shipment, made her feel like her sister’s body had been retrieved from the black void of space. Elsa laid her head down on the android’s unmoving chest, hugging the lifeless body, chanting her sister’s name over and over again through her sobs.

Day 103

Elsa managed to get the android’s body out of the crate and roll it over gracelessly to the couch. Despite its identical appearance to Anna, the android was considerably heavier. Her fingers threaded through the brilliant auburn hair to find the access port on the back of its head and gently opened it up, then plugged a fiber cable into its processor.

She activated the holographic interface at her home workstation and her On-Line AI Facilitator sprang to life. “Hello, OLAF,” she greeted it, its interface a cheerful, simplistic snowman based on a drawing Anna had made as a child.

“Hi Elsa! What are we going to do today?” the snowman asked earnestly.

“I need you to gather training data for a new neural model. The target is an AVA N-9,” she said, weaving her fingers in the air as she began to construct what she intended to be a masterpiece, her life’s work.

“Okay, Elsa. Hey, while I was offline, I was doing some reading. Did you know that gorillas burp when they’re happy?”

Elsa closed her eyes and brought her palm to her face. OLAF was one of her very first neural models, an artificial intelligence that was childlike compared to her recent work, but Anna had loved him, so she couldn’t bear to decommission him.

“Did you know we blink 4 million times a day? Did you know wombats poop squares? Did you-”

“OLAF! Stop. Reset language processor.”

The AI’s snowman face froze in place for a moment before grinning again. “Ready.”

Elsa swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. This was it. Once she issued this command, there was no turning back. “Training data set: download and process all media with Anna in it. Directed graph, eigenvector centrality measure, please.”

After a few moments of processing, OLAF looked up at her. “Hey Elsa, just asking, but do you want to unlock Anna’s private data?” The snowman’s face grew somber. “As her formal next of kin, you have the legal authority to access all her private recordings and logs.”

Elsa paused, sorrow overwhelming her. She’d avoided taking this step as a way of refusing to acknowledge that Anna was gone and not coming back; she’d held out hope for over 2 months that Anna’s ship had just fallen off course in hyperspace or some explanation, any explanation other than the inevitable and obvious, but taking this step would mean admitting to herself that Anna was truly gone. She hunched over, her head in her hands as she sobbed quietly.

“I’m sorry for asking, Elsa. I wish I could give you a warm hug and make it better.”

Elsa caught her breath, the hitching sobs receding. “It- it’s okay, OLAF. Thank you. Y-yes, I would like to incorporate all of Anna’s private data.” She held out her hand over the workstation for DNA identification, authorizing access.

The snowman’s head bobbed as his default smile returned. “Loading. Time to process: 11 days, 7 hours, 5 minutes, 31 seconds. Beginning data import now. Hey Elsa, did you know turtles breathe through their butts?”

Day 113

OLAF chimed gently to let Elsa know the neural model training data was ready. The blonde rolled out of her bed and blearily stumbled over to the workstation. “OLAF… it’s 3 AM. You couldn’t have waited until morning to let me know?” she groaned.

“Oh hey Elsa! Glad you’re awake. Say, did you know-“

“Not now, OLAF. Show me the architecture, please?”

A brilliant, luminescent diagram appeared in front of her, like a giant loom made of golden light, covered in glitter. She touched a sparkling point here or there and was rewarded with an image, a sound, a hologram of different moments in Anna’s life. Golden threads linked one memory to the next.

“OLAF, some of these linkages are much stronger than the others. Look here,” she tapped, revealing an image of her and Anna hugging next to a holiday tree, “and here,” she gestured at hologram recording of Elsa coming home from university and Anna tackle-hugging here. “Why?”

OLAF’s avatar laughed, the snowman’s head coming loose momentarily from the body. “Oh, right. You asked for a directed graph showing how memories are linked together. Those are anchor memories, moments that were reflected strongly in others. If you select the anchor memory and run a trace, you will see the memories that reference it.”

Elsa paused, her hands hovering over the golden lattice. What was she about to discover, delving through their shared history? She gestured at an image of the two of them sitting on her couch in front of the fireplace, mugs of cocoa in one hand as their other hands were laced together. Elsa’s eyes teared up looking at the memory. She ran a finger along the golden line from that to the next node in the lattice, and a hologram of Anna appeared.

She couldn’t. Not yet. It was too soon for her, even now, months after the… incident. Opening this memory, something that Anna alone had made, would be the final acknowledgement that she was gone from her life forever.

Elsa closed the lattice and powered down her workstation, then crawled back into bed.

Day 114

Elsa opened the lattice and looked at the softly glowing memories, then closed it again.

Day 116

Elsa flipped on the fireplace, bright flame and warm air heating her tiny apartment. Martian nights were always cold, even under the dome. She looked at the android propped up against the couch, remembering a time when she and Anna would camp out on her couch, binge watching movies and eating popcorn.

Nostalgia gripped her heart with an icy fist as the android stared lifelessly at the fire, an inanimate reminder of better times.

She pulled open the lattice, saw the memories floating like sparks from the fire, glanced at the android, and closed her workstation.

She still wasn’t ready to hear her sister from beyond the grave.

Day 117

Curiosity got the better of her. She wiped a tear away from her eye with her thumb and, hand shaking, tapped on the linked memory. Anna’s face filled the display space, taking Elsa’s breath away.

“It’s January 3rd, and I have a confession,” Anna said aloud to the camera, clearly nervous even though she was alone. “I just spent the entire evening with Elsa, watching vids and sipping hot cocoa. She made the nicest fire in the hearth for us.” Anna looked down, fidgeting with something out of view. “She- when we held hands tonight, I felt something.”

Anna looked straight ahead into the camera, and Elsa felt like her sister was talking directly to her. She couldn’t breathe, and it felt like her heart had come to a halt.

All of Anna’s nervousness vanished, and her teal eyes flashed as a wry grin appeared on her lips. “I know what I felt tonight. It was true love. I am in love with Elsa. God, it feels so weird to say that. But I know it, I know it’s true love. I’m in love with my sister.”

Elsa came undone.

Day 124

“Language model is complete, Elsa. The neural model is fully rendered,” squawked OLAF cheerfully. “Ready to upload whenever you are, Elsa!”

Elsa paced around her tiny apartment, dodging discarded clothing and other detritus. She’d let things go in the months since Anna vanished; the clutter was a symptom of just how lost she felt without her sister and lover. Subconsciously knowing what she was about to do, she started picking up the laundry and food containers.

“OLAF,” she said quietly, tossing another work blazer in her laundry hamper, “initialize the neural interface and begin transfer.”

OLAF made a series of chirping and squeaking noises, and the android propped up against her desk suddenly opened its eyes as they turned a vivid green, the data transfer beginning. “Hey Elsa?” OLAF asked cheerfully.

“Y-yeah?” she looks up, a load of food delivery cartons in her arms.

“Approximately 44 hours remaining on the transfer. Want to play trivia?”

Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

Day 126

The android’s eyes cooled from vivid green back to teal and a soft chime sounded from it. Elsa stared pensively at it, spinning around slowly in her desk chair. She’d propped the android up in her armchair, waiting as the last of the data transfer completed. Her stomach ran laps around her insides.

She glanced at her workstation’s calendar, the day circled to remind her of Anna’s birthday. She suppressed a tear as she turned her attention back to the android.

This is it, she thought. Time to find out whether this was all worth it or not. She unplugged the data transfer cable and closed the port in the android’s head, smoothing out the red hair over the interface. Her hand hovered over the little black control box with a comically large green button lit up on it.

Her hand twitched, as though her body had its own desires to see Anna again. Finally, she took a deep breath and pushed the button.

The android - Anna, for all intents and purposes - blinked.

Elsa cautiously leaned forward in her chair. “H-hi.”

Anna blinked again. “Hi. Hi me?” she asked, pointing at herself. “I am…” her eyes flicked side to side, “Anna. You are… Elsa. You are my… sister?” Wave after wave of memory and information washed over Anna’s mind as she consumed the massive data store Elsa had built. She stood up from the chair and walked over to Elsa smoothly and gracefully to embrace her in a hug.

Cold, she’s so cold, Elsa thought as she wrapped her arms around Anna’s doppelgänger. She doesn’t feel alive. “Hi, Anna. It’s… it’s me. I- I’ve missed you so much.”

“What happened, Elsa? The last thing I remember is leaving you at the spaceport,” she asked. Her memories had included everything up to the last time Elsa had seen her.

Elsa sat down hard on the couch, attempting to control herself and failing. “You… your ship… it vanished after the transfer point on Io. No one has seen or heard from anyone on board that ship since.” A tear leaked from her eye.

Anna reached out with her thumb and wiped the tear away. Elsa shivered at her cold touch.

Day 128

“So you want me to reference the holography and intentionally be clumsy, imitating Anna?”

Elsa nodded, turning around in her workstation chair. “Yes… you, uh, you’re too graceful. Anna had a tendency to not pay attention all that much and stumble over things. It’s… it’s one of the reasons I had to keep our apartment so clean,” she sighed.

The android’s eyes flashed bright green as she processed years of video information. “Got it,” she smiled. She stood up and walked over to Elsa, intentionally catching her foot on the sofa leg and almost perfectly imitating one of Anna’s careless stumbles, her arms pinwheeling in the air before catching her balance.

Elsa’s breath caught in her throat. That was Anna. That is Anna.

Day 131

Elsa woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs. She sat up in bed, confused; rations on Mars due to recent shortages meant limited supplies of fresher foods. She tied on her nightrobe and walked into her kitchen to find Anna at the stove.

“Anna? What- where did you get bacon and eggs?”

Anna turned around with a smile. “Oh, I remembered that you love bacon and eggs, and by my count, you haven’t had it in 172 days, so I synthesized some with the protein sequencer you had on your workstation.” She handed Elsa the place, watching her with a small smile.

“It… oh my god, it tastes so real. This is amazing, Anna! How- how did you know how to do that?” Elsa said between bites, a look of bliss on her face. “Anna - my Anna - umm, your predecessor… was an archaeologist. Biochemistry wasn’t exactly her strong suit.”

The android laughed, a perfect imitation of Anna’s laugh. “I know I’m Anna, but I’m also an AVA N-9. I don’t mean to break character, but we all come equipped with varying levels of knowledge we need to do our jobs as servants, and in your case, you bought the most powerful version available, so I come with expert knowledge of just about every profession and hobby. We’re supposed to be whatever you want us to be.”

“I wish you weren’t so cold to the touch,” Elsa mumbled, taking another bite.

“Oh, I might be able to fix that.” Her irises flashed bright green for a moment before she burst into a broad smile. “Yup, you bought that option. The basic service models don’t have a need for body heat, but according to my records, your sales associate authorized the intimate partner upgrade. I can activate it if you want?”

Elsa almost spit out her food, catching herself at the last moment to avoid wasting the delicious breakfast. “Intimate partner upgrade? That slimy, arrogant little shit. How dare he… uh… anyway… yes, activate the… upgrade,” she grimaced, her face colored with embarrassment.

Anna’s pale white skin flushed and colored, and she did a little pirouette.

“Do all your system upgrades involve little dances?” Elsa smirked, giggling a little. She reached out and touched Anna’s arm as the android bowed, hamming it up.

She’s… so warm. She feels real. She feels… like Anna. Elsa practically leaped out of her chair and hugged Anna, savoring the warmth coming from her body. Tears flowed freely as she sobbed in happiness, her arms around her sister once more.

Day 160

Elsa lay in bed, shivering. Damn, the cold never used to bother me, she sighed, wrapping herself up in her blanket. The clock on her nightstand glowered angrily at her, the red digits practically making a scowl at her. 2:12 AM.

She tossed one more time before she heard a familiar knocking on her door.

“Elsa?”

Anna opened the door slowly, dressed in a green nightgown. “I heard you tossing and turning. Are you okay?”

Elsa’s teeth chattered. “I- I’m f-f-fine.” She cradled herself with her arms. “Okay, I’m n-n-not fine.”

Anna climbed onto the bed and pulled the covers aside. “Elsa, you’re freezing! Come here,” she said, pulling her into a hug. “I’ll keep you warm.”

“I… I… Anna…” she stuttered, “Oh, how I’ve missed this, so much.” Out of habit, she cupped Anna’s cheek and brushed her lips against Anna’s. Anna’s lips were perfect. Smooth, warm, firm… Elsa flicked her tongue against Anna’s lips and moaned into the kiss.

“Elsa… I have to tell you something,” Anna mumbled sheepishly, still holding her close.

“W-what is it, Anna?”

Anna laid down on the bed, her auburn hair spilling over the pillow. “The one thing that I’m missing… that I’m sorry I can’t give you, is what it was like to be intimate with you. Neither you nor Anna ever recorded anything; in fact, both of you made a point to turn off the monitoring in here,” she said, eyes flicking at the holocams recessed in the walls. “So… I don’t know what you do or don’t like when it comes to being intimate together. Would… would you teach me? Teach me so I can fully be who you want me to be?”

Elsa bit her lower lip and nodded softly. “I’d like that, Anna. Let’s start with kissing…”

She turned off the lights.

Day 201

Elsa woke to her sister spooning her, Anna’s arm around her middle, and smiled. Anna - she increasingly forgot that Anna was an android she’d built - had not only learned every mannerism and detail of their prior intimacy, but improved on it. She’d never felt so loved, so satisfied, so enveloped in her sister’s warmth and love as she did now.

She sighed happily, then felt the faintest stirrings of arousal. Anna’s hands had started to wander, slowly and gently, tracing small circles around her navel.

“I know you’re awake, Elsa,” her sister whispered in her ear, her lips brushing the back of her neck. Elsa shivered in delight as Anna’s fingertips walked up her torso, tracing the curves of her body with a feather-light touch. “I can hear your heartbeat. I can see the changes in your breathing. And I can smell your arousal.”

“Yes, I’m awake,” Elsa mumbled, blushing.

“Want me to wake you up fully?” Anna giggled, her hands gliding down past Elsa’s navel.

“Oh god yes,” she breathed, biting her lower lip as she turned to face her sister.

Day 491

Elsa peeked over the covers. “Psst, Anna!”

“Yeah?”

“Happy birthday!”

“To you?” Anna cocked her head, confused.

Elsa laughed. “It’s your birthday!”

“To me? It’s my birthday?”

“Mhm. And it’s going to be perfect, because you’ve never had a real birthday before. You came online exactly a year ago today,” she smiled, drawing Anna into a hug.

Elsa sighed happily. After the first weeks, Anna had mastered all of her predecessor’s habits, quirks, and mannerisms in almost every aspect of life. And what she didn’t have data for, they recreated.

Except for the occasional quirk, Elsa had almost completely forgotten that this wasn’t her biological sister. In every other way, this was Anna, her sister, her lover, her best friend.

“What do you want for your birthday, Anna?”

Anna tamed her wild mane with her fingers, then grinned devilishly at Elsa. She grabbed Elsa by the front of her dress and pulled her down into the bed, pressing her lips against Elsa’s.

“What I want for my birthday is…”, she licked her lips and grabbed Elsa’s ass, “you.”

Day 900

The door to their apartment slid open, and Anna walked in, weary and haggard. She glanced around. So much had changed.

I suppose that was inevitable. I wonder if she moved on from me?

She looked around the quiet apartment before gently opening the bedroom door. Elsa lay on the bed asleep. Next to her, Anna saw… herself. She gasped.

Elsa shot up out of the bed. “Anna?”

Finds and Feathers Drabble: Drautos

*throws this on here* Ow, my hands. This is over 2.5k words when it was meant to be maybe 1k but its done now so enjoy it. I hereby blame @oliverslewty @yudu097 and @faeconstellation for this. XDD Look at what got resurrected and merged with Fangs and Feathers verse.

BEHOLD the thing that y’all did the vote for *waggles eyebrows*.

...

-Titus has several reasons to hate the royal family. King Mors pulled back the Wall, which allowed his parents and uncles to be murdered when Niflheim invaded, leaving only him and his older sister alive (and even then, Titus was only alive because of Regis and his sister was only alive because she had moved to Lestallum three years prior). Regis had promised Titus aid and vengeance, but as the years went by, Titus’s homeland was never reclaimed.

-Then there was the Glauca suit.

-Titus had not wanted the thing now sitting under his skin, he had fought every step of the way through his capture and experimentation and their attempts to TURN him, make him betray Lucis in favor of the people who had burned his home.

-If he hadn’t had a sister to go home to, he thinks he would have listened to them.

-If he hadn’t had a sister who Titus had learned was with child right before his capture, he thinks he might have listened anyway, or at least not been as desperately reckless to escape. He would have taken his time to plot a way out, played obedient puppet to lower their guard rather than fighting his way out using the THING they had burrowed under his skin, even if it almost killed him.

-The Crownsguard hadn’t even noticed he was gone, and of course, what the Crownsguard didn’t report, Regis was too busy to notice.

-Worthless king. Spineless king. Selfish lying king who deserved to WAtCh hIs KInGdOm BUrN-

-It was only his sister’s horrified intervention in the height of his vitriol that clued him in on the fact that his thoughts were no longer completely his own. The suit, the armor, the thing that breathed and hungered and hated under his skin was connected to his mind so that he could command it at will, but that connection was two way, and its hate kept trying to bleed over into his own thoughts.

-Titus made a point to twist his spite and direct it at Niflheim whenever his thoughts strayed. True, he might hate the royal line for their failures, but he hated Niflheim MORE. Regis might not be the warrior king Lucis needed but at least he wasn’t the Emperor (at least he was a good man, even if good men made bad kings). On and on his thoughts spun in endless circles, a tug of war between two different kinds of spite and anger in the background of his everyday life that frankly made every day exhausting. It would have been so much easier to let the two thought processes combine and carry him away into a secret, righteous crusade against Lucis. So much easier to claim the power Niflheim had burrowed under his skin.

-He didn’t. Because of his sister. More than her…

-Because of his nephew. Because his nephew had no father figure to speak of (his sister had looked so worried when she told him of her one night stand with a nameless, pretty-eyed stranger that had made her pregnant despite protection) and had been born with fury under his skin, branded into his being just like the birthmarks that stretched across his face and body like jagged scars. SOMEONE had to teach his nephew to control the fury that seemed to have been molded into the boy’s soul from the womb, and Titus was the only one around to do that.

-Then one day when his nephew was seven years old and throwing a tantrum, the apartment shook and his nephew froze in astonishment at the bright, red-amber fire licking over his hands. In the stunned silence that had followed, his nephew had looked up at him with blood red eyes (his nephew’s eyes were washed out blue like his, not red, not RED-) and Titus had one more reason to hate Lucis Caelums.

-He never told Regis. Never dared. Regis was a man who loved children, and even in his blackest moments Titus would never suspect the man of being capable of harming a child, but Regis was married. Married to a wife he adored, a wife who had just recently had a son of her own. The scandal it would cause if Titus’s nephew was known, the strife that would erupt between Regis, Aulea, and Titus’s sister-. He couldn’t risk it.

-He had never been so glad that Regis had given him magic as a trusted member of his Retinue. A way to teach his nephew how to hide the magic burning under his skin and how to temper the wrath that threatened to shake the walls at any given moment (because his nephew was always angry, even when he was content and smiling and laughing with his mother, there was a tiny spark of anger lurking there, like the world had wronged him and he hated it).

-He still kept the secret even after Aulea died. Because Regis was grieving, and for all the bitterness that was both his and the suit’s, he wouldn’t inflict that kind of drama on the man while he was grieving.

-When his nephew was ten, Titus got a call from his sister, frantic and confused over her nephew, who had been watching a broadcast about the Oracle’s children when he suddenly passed out with a fever. Titus claimed a sick day and rushed to Lestallum to check on his nephew, found him already up and about a day after his mysterious collapse.

-His eyes were red and there was bitterness there.

-They didn’t stop being red even after Titus held him close and calmed the buzzing rage he could feel under his nephew’s skin.

-“I’m King Regis’s spawn, aren’t I?”

-Titus stiffened at the wording, glanced up at his sister as she pet her son’s hair and breathed, “You are my beloved son. Who your father is doesn’t matter to us.”

-His nephew laughed and the sound was broken. Then he pulled away and summoned fire to his hands so he could stare at his magic. When he looked up at his mother, his eyes were still the color of fresh blood, “I don’t like my name. I want to change it.”

-Titus and his sister had exchanged worried looks, but out of fear of a magic-fueled tantrum, Titus asked, “What name do you want?”

-A sharp, bitter sort of smile more at home on the face of a soldier than a child, “Xanxus. My name is Xanxus.”

-And that was that. His nephew stopped responding to his given name, only answered to the one he had given himself. He was different now, from whatever had happened, and Titus wished he could ask Regis about magic without raising suspicions, because was this normal for Lucis Caelums? This sudden change in name and development of a too-old (too bloodthirsty) personality?

-Xanxus’s eyes never did turn back to blue. Titus suspected there was too much anger there, lurking just beneath the surface as his nephew went out and picked fights with the street rats of Lestallum, as he ran off to join the Hunters at fifteen, adding yet another concern to Titus’s life in between his duties as Captain of the Kingsglaive, the suit constantly prodding his thoughts, and Prince Noctis (who had taken to trailing him around with big blue eyes that made it impossible to hate the brat) and his crazy pet Galahdian who had apparently taken a shine to him because he wasn’t “a useless herbivore” (whatever that meant).

-Titus should have known something would break someday. The tenuous secrecy and balance couldn’t last forever. Not with Xanxus’s temper and Titus’s terrible luck in regards to Lucis Caelums.

-Four months after Xanxus turned sixteen, Titus got a report from the front lines. A base of Kingsglaive had nearly been overrun by a Niflheim assault until an unknown teenager with magic had intervened and shot down the gunships with a combination of over-powered, red-tinted fire spells and guns that seemed to fire bullets of pure magic.

-Titus could do nothing to stop the report from reaching Regis, because several Crownsguard had been at the base at the time to refuel their truck on the way back to Insomnia and they had already reported the incident to the Marshal.

-Titus stood at a twitching Regis’s side, face frozen in neutrality that he didn’t feel as the throne room doors got flung open and his nephew was escorted inside by several glaives. Xanxus eyed Regis with contempt, his magic swirling openly around him like biting embers of anger and King Regis flinched at the feel of it before stepped forward, “You are-”

-“Your illegitimate spawn,” sneered Titus’s nephew and Titus inwardly groaned, “so what? Gonna try to lock me in your pretty Citadel so I don’t go around shaming your line?”

-Regis recoiled like he’d been physically punched and Titus openly winced and resisted the urge to tell Xanxus to do his breathing exercises, “No!” Sputtered the king Titus had a constant loyalty-hate relationship with, “I would never hold you here against your will!”

-“So you’ll just offer a lot of incentives for me to stay  and more incentives for me to not dare leave.” Retorted Titus’s living headache, “Don’t try the playing the nice sham you old b-.”

-That was enough of that, “Xanxus Certus Drautos, watch your tongue. I can still hold you down and wash that mouth of yours out with soap.”

-All eyes snapped to Titus while Xanxus made a face and a rude gesture and Titus sighed at the unspoken, panicky question in Regis’s eyes, “He’s my nephew. Yes, I’ve known about his magic for a long time.”

-Regis’s expression was so genuinely wounded Titus felt bad, “Then why did you never…?”

-Titus looked away, unable to withstand the hurt in the eyes of the man Titus thought was a bad king but knew was a good man (which was what made him a bad king), “We didn’t find out until the year Prince Noctis was born. I didn’t want my sister or nephew … or you … to suffer the scandal it would cause if he became known. And after the Queen died … there was never a good time.”

-Xanxus snorted, “Whatever, just scrub the reports and he can keep his precious reputation untarnished and I can go back to Hunting. Say one of your pet glaives used a new magic spell or something.” The glaives bristled at the “pet” comment, but Titus was just glad he wasn’t slinging his favorite word around yet (he doubted Cor or anyone in the room would react well to Xanxus calling the king “trash”)

-Regis turned back to Xanxus, reached out a hesitant hand, “You don’t have to leave. I will not stop you if … if you truly wish to go but I would … I would be honored to get to know my son-.”

-Magic rippled out like blood and fury and Titus instinctively put himself between Regis and Xanxus as his nephew snarled “I don’t belong to you, Trash King. I’m not your son, I’m your mistake and I will not be caged just so you can pat yourself on the back and feel better about ‘repenting’ for your ‘mistakes’.” Xanxus shook off the glaives that reached for him, fire burning dangerously up his arms and shoulders as he leaned around Titus so he could bare his teeth at a shaking Regis, his armiger flickering in and out of existence in red-amber as he spat, “You leave me and my mother the pyre alone or so help me I’m gonna-.”

-From the doors of the throne room, another magic signature spiked and Titus swallowed his spit in dread.

-What was Prince Noctis doing down here?

-Xanxus’s eyes went wild and he spun on his heel and Titus had a horrifying mental image of either his nephew or his crown prince dead on the throne room floor and half-dived for his nephew. He slammed against the red-tinted magic shield that formed and pushed outward, knocking aside everyone that might have stopped him as Prince Noctis, with no self-preservation whatsoever, ran up to Xanxus and smiled, “Xanxus, you’re here!”

-Wait. How did Prince Noctis know Xanxus’s name?

-Xanxus stared down at the nine year old prince with a cocked head, confusion in the set of his shoulders for a moment before he … relaxed, “Small Trash?” There was genuine confusion, disbelief, as if he wasn’t expecting to see Prince Noctis here, but that made no sense because Xanxus had only ever been to Insomnia in his life ONCE before now and there was no way he’d met Prince Noctis then. … Right?

-Prince Noctis stared around them at the shield hemming them in, then fearlessly smiled and hugged Titus’s nephew, “I missed you!”

-Titus prepared to batter down the shield in hopes of preventing regicide.

-Xanxus just patted Prince Noctis’s hair, armiger fading out of existence and magic settling to something slightly below screaming wrath, “Figures you’d be here, Small Trash.”

-“My name is Noctis.”

-“Xanxus. Xanxus Drautos.”

-Prince Noctis leaned briefly around Xanxus to blink at Titus, then resumed smiling up at the half-brother he shouldn’t know existed, “Titus’s…?”

-“Nephew, Small Trash. I don’t have a father.”

-Regis made a strangled noise, tentatively resting a hand on the shield keeping him away from his two sons, “Noctis…”

-Prince Noctis looked at his father, blinked with that unique, far-off stare he got when his seer magic kicked in and Titus felt his teeth grind as the boy looked up at Xanxus, “…You’re my half-brother.”

-Xanxus’s shoulders tensed, “Small Trash…”

-Prince Noctis turned and hugged Xanxus again, “It’s okay. He’s a good dad, I promise. He’ll love you. Please stay.”

-A shaking breath that felt … vulnerable. More vulnerable than his nephew had been since he was ten and claimed a new name, “I’m illegitimate, Small Trash. We both know what that means to royalty.”

-Slender arms hugged tighter and Titus watched in awe as his volatile nephew did nothing to throw the boy away, “Dad is different. I love him, and he loves me. He loves you too already. I promise. And I never break my promises.”

-Xanxus sagged in place, muttered a few scathing curses Titus had never been able to train out of him, then reached down and effortlessly picked Prince Noctis up and propped him on his hip like the boy was three and not nine, “Fine, Small Trash. I’ll give him three months. If I don’t like him by then I’m gone.”

-The shield dissolved as Xanxus turned around, “You got that, Trash King? You want to prove you’re interested in me as family and not a tool, you got three months to do it. After that I’m gone and none of your men better try to stop me unless they want to be dead.”

-Regis agreed even as the Marshal growled at Xanxus’s wording, but Titus didn’t care to listen. Couldn’t really think past his surprise because … because…

-As his nephew looked down at the half-brother he apparently already knew in his arms, angry but in a more tired and indulgent way, for the first time in years…

-Xanxus’s eyes were their natural washed out blue again.

-Oh, thought Titus quietly as Prince Noctis beamed up at Xanxus with amber eyes, magic curling effortlessly around Xanxus’s in a way that filled in and smoothed over all the screaming, jagged edges.

-Oh.

SOWK ch.4/35

Summary:

Dominic and his family meet the absolute delight that is Lysander...

Chapter 4 : gueux

It was almost two weeks since the infamous incident, and those two weeks had not passed smoothly. Dom and his parents had seen the interior of almost every solicitor’s office in their sector, and no matter how many different desks they sat at, no matter how many times they mentioned the name Bellamy, the answer had always been a resounding no. Though the solicitors often sugar-coated their predicament, it was clear that they all thought the same. You won’t get out of that hole alive. So, what greeted Fleck and his son when they walked in the door of their shack almost two weeks after the infamous incident was quite a treat, at least for the younger man. The scent of carrots, potatoes, onions and, if he wasn’t mistaken, chicken assaulted Dom’s senses, the glouglou’s eyes wide in surprise and confusion. Dom turned to his father, brows furrowed as he attempted to puzzle through the situation, but Fleck was avoiding his gaze. “Dad...” Dom said slowly, but Fleck pushed a persistent hand against his back and gently steered him towards the kitchen table. “Hurry up, before it gets cold,” his father said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Nevertheless, Dom pulled out the chair and sat down, staring at the steaming bowl of chicken and vegetable soup with suspicion clear on his face. His mother was busying herself with glasses of orange juice; Nancy had flopped down beside him a few seconds ago and was already ladling soup into her bowl. Dom glanced again at the table, at the corporeal vegetables and chunks of juicy chicken and the unbelievably real loaf of crusty bread on the chopping board. “What’s going on...?” he asked, his voice trailing off though he had nothing more to ask. His question was simple enough. They were scraping by; there was a leak in the bathroom ceiling that hadn’t been fixed for months, they were behind on the rent and they were in a huge amount of debt thanks to a certain self-obsessed Voix. How they were able to afford vegetables that weren’t onions - never mind chicken - was a mystery to him. Fleck sat down at the head of the table, as usual, and gave Dom a pointed look. “Just eat,” he said firmly, his tone a clear indication that the conversation was at an end before it had begun. “Guess what?” Nancy suddenly burst out, her spoon dropping to the table with a clatter. Everyone turned to look at her, and, swallowing down what was apparently excitement, Nancy continued in a wavering voice, “You know the party this Saturday?” Dom’s eyes dropped back to his soup. He shifted in his seat, a familiar wave of painful hatred shooting through his body. It was Matthew Bellamy’s ‘birthday party’ on Saturday, and as a result, virtually the entire population of the planet had been press ganged into celebrating it. Street parties were being organised all over town and Dom had been forced to attend the one on his local main street; the last thing he wanted to do was spend a day where everyone was singing Bellamy’s praises, but he couldn’t sulk at home. Reluctantly, he glanced up again, to where Nancy was excitedly murmuring that Ben 4876034 from two doors down had asked to go with her. Dom assumed it was of some kind of importance to her, but he couldn’t exactly work out what. Then again, he wasn’t well-versed in the literature of women, much less his sister’s particular novels. “Who’s he again, the one with the reddish hair?” his mother was asking, almost as excitedly as Nancy herself. His sister nodded, giggling and placing a hand to her mouth. Dom swivelled his eyes to his father and pulled a face; Fleck shrugged in reply, a light smile at his lips. “He’s gorgeous though,” Nancy was gushing, eyelashes fluttering as she spoke. As Dom ripped off a chunk of bread and dipped it into his soup, an oddly satisfied mood stole over him. His mother was laughing, the corners of her eyes crinkled once more; it didn’t matter that on Saturday he would have to endure a full day of Matthew, because his family was happy. He could forget about debts and leaks and rents for that evening and simply imagine what it would be like to live a normal life. And then someone knocked on the door. They all turned to it simultaneously, frozen where they sat. Nancy’s voice trailed off mid-sentence; Dom found himself staring at the door with the bread stuffing his mouth. He swallowed hard, turning to his father, who stood up and inched his way to the door. They never had visitors. The last time someone had knocked on the door, it had been to take the census, and that was almost ten years ago now. Before Fleck had the chance to reach the door, however, an overly chirpy voice sounded through the cheap wood. “‘Ello? Anybody ’ome?” the voice sung quite happily, lilting and fluent in its tones. “Mum, who--?” “Keep your mouth shut, Dominic,” Annie said, iron in her voice. Dom’s mouth obediently closed; he glanced at Nancy, who seemed just as clueless as he was. He turned back to the door, watching as his father hesitantly pulled it open. A man with a head of slick white-blond hair, a proud, jutting chin and glinting blue eyes stood grinning in the doorway. “Evenin’, Fleck, me old chum!” the man said, raising a hand to his forehead in a loose salute. Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped over the threshold, gently sliding past Fleck and walking with confident, long strides over to the kitchen table. “Nice place. Very ’omely.” He said, walking in a slow circle around the table and stopping directly behind Nancy. He crouched low, pressed his lips close to her ear and whispered, “‘Ello, darlin’.” Dom’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Get your hands off my sister,” he snarled. The Voix looked over at him, an amused smile on his face. “Calm your passions, pretty boy,” he said smoothly. He stood up again, though his hand lingered against Nancy’s neck. Dom gritted his teeth but said nothing more; after glancing at Nancy, who shook her head with a barely perceptible movement at his questing looks, he decided that it was best to keep his voice down. “Lysander,” Fleck said coldly, braving a look into the Voix’s stunning blue eyes. Although he didn’t act or sound like one, Lysander was still a Voix and, technically, should be respected like one. His work, however, wasn’t really that respectable in the first place. “You said just yesterday that we wouldn’t meet for two weeks.” “Ah, that I did say, but what’s stoppin’ me from poppin’ ‘round for a cuppa every now and then, ey? Plus, I’ve got payment to collect,” Lysander suavely said, giving an easy smile to the confused, stunned and frightened faces around the table. “But I don’t owe you any money at the moment!” Fleck protested, the muscles bunching in his arm. Dom knew it was a telltale sign that he was restraining from banging his fist against the wood of the table. “I never said I wanted money, did I?” Lysander shot back, his voice deep and deadly serious. “Maybe I’ll be taking my payment in other forms...” As his sentence trailed off, the Voix brushed his knuckles against the nape of Nancy’s neck, the glouglou pressing her lips hard against each other and blinking rapidly. “Don’t you dare touch my daughter!” “Fine! But I’m needin’ twice last week’s payment by tomorrow.” “You know I can’t do that,” Fleck pleaded, begging with his eyes. “Then I take the girl,” Lysander said quietly, hand slipping around to stroke the front of Nancy’s neck. To Dom, it looked more like a chokehold than a caress. Suddenly, he found his voice. “Just what is going on here?!” Lysander removed his hand from Nancy’s skin completely, a sigh of relief audible in the tense room. Quirking his head, the Voix stepped away from Dom’s twin before approaching him. “Ah, Dom. The ringleader in this debauchery.” “What are you even--” “Dominic, do not make this difficult,” Annie warned. “Ah, he’s not makin’ anythin’ difficult, love,” Lysander said, Annie barely suppressing a shiver under his gaze. Turning his attention back to Dom, Lysander tipped the younger man’s chin up with two fingers. “Poor little Dom. Too young to know anythin’, ain’t ya?” He gave Dom’s cheek a light slap before straightening up, beginning to walk around the kitchen table once more. “I recall that you got into a spot of trouble coupla weeks ago, am I right? I’m right,” Lysander said, not allowing anyone to even breathe a response. “I, Lysander Fletcher, financial aide to the gods - and to the Bellamys,” he added in a stage whisper to no one in particular, “jumped to your rescue, where no sane or legal solicitor woulda jumped.” “I still--” “See all this nice food here, lad? Yup, that’s my work. Bloke coming to fix that leak in that bathroom of yours next Tuesday? Yup, that’s my work. The fact that you’re all still alive is my bloody work. All I ask for in return is my money... and my interest, set at my rates.” “Is that even legal?!” a different, shrill voice cried. “Annie...” Fleck warned, Dom noticing that his father’s head was now held in his hands, fingers pulling at strands of hair. “Darlin’, let’s remember who I am. I’m a Voix, you’re a glouglou. Doesn’t matter what you think, sweetheart, ‘cause I am the judge, jury and executioner.” With that, Lysander’s hand returned to Nancy’s neck. A chill silence fell across the room. Annie was biting her nails, gaze fixed on her daughter, who was sitting bolt upright and completely still as Lysander traced her collarbone with two long fingers, her eyes glazed over and evidently trying to detach herself from the situation. If there was any sort of telepathic link between twins, Dom certainly didn’t need it now. He could feel Nancy’s fear in the air, hear her hammering heartbeat, he could see her predicting her father’s next words correctly. Fleck inhaled deeply, raising his head only to rub at his temples with his fingers. “What sort of interest is this, Lysander?” he breathed, voice cracking. “I’ve got a few mates,” Lysander began, a sob breaking free from Annie’s chest as he paused. She knew what was coming; they all knew what was coming, yet they accepted it just as you’d accept the end of the world - wide eyed and watching. “And boy, do they love a good girl. A pretty girl, nice pair of eyes, nice pair of...” Lysander had the decency to cough before continuing. “Well, you see, they get bored of the Voix girls. They’re all too prissy, them. All too needy and clingy. We like a girl who can think for herself... a girl who has a bit of fight in her.” One fat tear rolled down Nancy’s cheek, and as she jerkily wiped it away, Lysander’s hand fell from her body and back to his side. “Do I even get a say in this?” Nancy whispered, more to herself than anybody else. Everybody heard her, yet no one had the heart to respond. Well, no one with a heart had the heart to respond. “If you had a say, princess, you wouldn’t be a cassé,” Lysander sneered, giving the rest of the room a carefree lopsided smile before promptly turning and leaving the room, slamming the door shut behind him.