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rainbowolfe · 9 months

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Hiya! Been loving your writing! I'm curious on your take of Bishop Kallamar x Vessel or Guardian. Platonic? Romantic? Up to you!

The Vessel's New Clothes

Word Count: 1997 Lamb x Narinder; Lamb x Kallamar *No particular gender/sex assigned to Lamb

[Visual Reference for Your Viewing Enjoyment]

Cast in darkness for only a brief moment, Lamb felt the familiar sensation of falling, then ascending. The red glow faded from their eyes as they arrived at their destination. Their hooves made little noise in this realm of nothingness. If they had been summoned here, they’d have appeared before their vainglorious god. This time they’d appeared a good distance away.

They quickly preened themselves, straightening their new fleece and fluffing the tuft of wool that hung over their forehead. They instinctively went to fluff the wool around their torso, but were quickly reminded that it was no longer there. They had shaven off quite a bit of the wool that used to hide their figure.

It was an impulsive decision, born out of frustration and a small dash mischief. They were relieved to find that the roots of their wool were dark in color, as the cut they’d chosen would not have looked as nice without the contrast—and it would have looked downright silly if the roots were light enough that their pinkish flesh showed through.

They took a breath to steel themselves before briskly walking forward through the fog. No use stalling.

Sound didn’t really travel in the Realm Beyond, so even when The One Who Waits entered their sight, they weren’t quite sure what he or his two clones were doing. He was sitting. That was new. As Lamb came closer, they could tell he’d noticed their presence when his ears raised ever so slightly. And yet, he made no move to greet them. He did not even turn around, too focused on the two gangling cats attempting to meditate.

‘Pretending to be focused on it,’ Lamb thought, tail bristling.

“Is it working? I don’t think it’s working.” The one clad in white spoke, starting at a whisper that transitioned into full volume.

“Ugh! Would you be silent? I almost had it!” The other grumbled.

“Busy day for you three?” Lamb chimed in.

The one in white opened his mouth, paused, then quickly closed it with an awkward smile. As if he were inclined to respond but suddenly thought better of it. The One Who Waits barely spared them a glance, taking his sweet time to respond.

“I did not request your presence.” He finally said.

“Ah? My mistake,” Lamb opted to feign ignorance. “I could have sworn I heard your call… but since I am already here, may I request an audience?”

“Why?”

Lamb’s composure slipped, sputtering briefly at his response. “Haven’t you noticed anything different about me since we last spoke?”

The One Who Waits turned his head slightly to fully regard Lamb for a moment, expression unchanging. He hums and gives a short shrug.

“Really?”

“Have you grown taller?” The cat in white chirped in an innocent, yet simultaneously condescending tone.

“Perhaps you’ve lost weight?” His dark counterpart matched his energy.

The One Who Wait’s head snapped around to face the duo again, presumably with a glare or something, but their giddy reactions made Lamb wonder. They sighed mentally.

“I have been hard at work collecting Holy Talisman fragments! Reuniting them to harness their power!” Lamb proclaimed, hands on their hips.

“And?” He turned his head to see Lamb again, faint signs of amusement still visible on his face.

“And… Well…” They puffed their chest out as they folded their hands behind their back, unable to keep the pout off their face. “I thought it was pretty cool…”

“Was I to be impressed that you have been moonlighting for Lessers in exchange for paltry goods? Have you forgotten your purpose?”

“Huh? No, of course not, I was just…!” Lamb’s mind grasped for the right words, but landed on parroting his words back to him. “Paltry?”

“That is what I said.”

“This isn’t some ordinary cloak!” Lamb huffed, tossing their cape for flare. “It’s made from a… an extremely valuable treasure that no mortal could begin to comprehend!”

“I am aware.”

“With the right curse, I’m a force to be reckoned with! As it is a tool I’m utilizing in my crusades, wouldn’t it be beneficial to explain their use?”

“Those relics serve no use to me while I am bound in this realm. Thus they are not a priority. I will not dissuade you from collecting more, as it means I will not have to seek them out myself when I am freed, but their true purpose is not something you should concern yourself with.”

“Oh.” Lamb didn’t know how else to respond.

“Is that all?”

“…yes.”

“Then, you are dismissed.”

Whatever they were looking for, Lamb clearly wasn’t going to get. They turned and began the walk back to the pentagram to leave, holding in their sigh of annoyance until they were out of earshot.

The One Who Waits was looking at them, sure, but he wasn’t seeing them. At least not in the way Lamb wished to be seen. It frustrated them to no end. Were they just unattractive? Or was it because he was a god? Could a god not see a mortal in that way?

‘Am I even technically a mortal?’

There was only one way to relieve this building aggravation: By taking it out on the followers of the Old Faith. Though the location of Heket’s temple remained unknown, Lamb was not particularly inclined to search for it after being snubbed by their benefactor. So, off to Anchordeep they went.

They weren’t much interested in a serious fight either. Heket was brutal with Lamb from their first meeting—back before they even knew how to use a sword effectively—so they imagined it would only get worse with the death of Leshy. When Leshy was alive, he tended to launch surprise attacks on Lamb—with or without his followers. But Kallamar?

Well, Lamb was beginning to wonder if he was even capable of combat. As he’d never tried to attack them, even with the other Bishops by his side. When encountered alone, he tended to find indirect ways to make them leave. At first he infected their followers with a nasty flu, but when that stopped working, he started dropping “hints” about secret treasure that could be found in the other realms.

Naturally, this encouraged Lamb to promptly abandon their exploration of his rather unpleasant oceanic realm to look for the one thing they couldn’t resist: treasure. They had even taken a direct bribe from him once.

Not Lamb’s proudest moment but, in their defense, it wasn’t Kallamar’s either.

Lamb didn’t think they would see Kallamar at all. So, imagine their surprise when he ‘greeted’ them the second they stepped out their saferoom.

“You! Why are you here?” He snatched them into the air before they could even spot him, the momentum orienting them upside down. “I told you—Why—WHERE is your wool?”

Lamb actually had a really suave, dismissive response prepared in their head that they never got to use (as Narinder never asked). But they were so caught off-guard, that it flew right from their mind.

“Whaa-What do you mean?” They stuttered out, only slightly disoriented as Kallamar hastily flipped them right-side-up.

“I really do not feel I need to clarify further!” He squawked. “Are you… Are you shedding? Do sheep shed? I don’t believe you have before…!” He said the last part mostly to himself.

Lamb let out a soft snort as their confusion faded into amusement. The Bishop’s ability to almost completely nullify their crown was typically a cause for concern, but not today.

“It’s just my seasonal trim. It gets rather stuffy in the warmer months.” They finally gave a response.

“I… see… Why have you come to disturb my realm?”

“I’m just doing my duties as the vessel of the Red Crown. I have no more business in Darkwood.”

Kallamar took pause at that, his expression unreadable to Lamb. They could probably guess if they cared to. Whatever it was, Kallamar didn’t dwell on it long, returning to his gaudy, flamboyant character.

“Though dear Leshy is no longer… present. Darkwood still holds many precious things. Things previously unattainable due to his resonance with those woods.” Kallamar bridged his fingers, as he often did, periodically tapping them together one at a time. “Ahh, but there is a beast that remains that must be slain first. A Witness! Yes, yes. You must be wondering what a Witness is—”

“I’ve already killed Leshy’s Witness.”

“They are vicious—wh-what?”

“I killed it,” Lamb repeated, as casual as the first time. “Traded it’s eye for my new fleece!”

“I see…!” Kallamar’s stare lingered for a moment before he found something else to look at. “You may want to renegotiate with your contact. For such a valuable object, you should at least get a cloak with as much, er, material as the last one.”

They scoffed back at him, “Do you take me as vain? I didn’t change cloaks for looks. I did it for power! It’s made from an extremely valuable treasure that no mortal could begin to comprehend!”

“That is… fascinating. Is that a Holy Talisman, then?”

“Huh? Oh…! Yes, actually. You know what they are?”

“Of course I do. We all have at least one.” He tapped his chin. “In fact, there are likely plenty more out there that you could wear in place of that.”

Lamb was inclined to inquire further about what Kallamar knew about Holy Talisman pieces, but their mind got caught on the barely-veiled insult towards their new fleece. Their fleece that was not easy to get.

“What’s wrong with the one I have now? You don’t even know what it does!”

“It increases the strength of your cursed abilities.” Kallamar seemed a little too smug about knowing that. “And do you really have to ask? Look at it. Why, you aren’t even wearing anything under it.”

“I’ve never worn anything under my cloak. I am covered in wool.” Lamb scoffed right back.

“Well you—I do not think I’m being unreasonable!” Kallamar gave a short, awkward laugh. “If you are going to have less wool, you should wear more clothing."

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Lamb casually flipped their cloak over their shoulder, wearing it as more of a cape than anything now.”

Kallamar’s eyes went wide. He had to physically turn his head to tear his eyes away from the sight of Lamb.

“It is like… It’s like wearing boots and nothing more! You might as well be wearing nothing at all.”

“Huh… I suppose that makes sense… I’ll just take it off, then.”

“Yes, yes, maybe you have some sense after a—” Kallamar’s mouth hung open for just a moment. Although he had managed to collect himself, he was flustered all over again.

“Oh my. I was just joking but… if you insist—”

“No, NO, that is not what I meant! You misunderstand!” He yelled, hands held out defensively. “What foolish—why would I—No, I didn’t even—gh!”

“How else am I supposed to interpret ‘you have some sense’ in that context?”

“I was—I thought you were done speaking! I hear things on a delay, so I thought…! And who would guess you would say something so—so ridiculous!”

“Uh-huh. It’s alright, we all have our Freudian slips.” Lamb waved dismissively, then said with a wink. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it.”

For a moment, Kallamar was at a loss for words. He started and stopped a few different thoughts without completing them, physically grasping at the air as if he’d find a suitable response there.

“Could it be that you’ve begun to see me as more than merely a vessel?” Lamb tittered.

“Ignoble lamb!” He finally spit out. “Go home! I have had enough of you for one day! Go on, shoo!” With every sentence emphasized with a telekinetic shove towards the door Lamb came through.

With their spirits now lifted, Lamb didn’t quite feel the need to go on a violent crusade anymore. They got the attention they wanted—the reaction they wanted—and although it wasn’t with the person they had in mind…

Perhaps he would do.

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A/N: Gee, it only took me three months, but this request is finally done XD I think Kallamar would be Lamb's rebound after being shut down by Narinder one too many times.

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl kallamar #cotl narinder #cotl lamb #narilamb #kallamb #the one who waits #aym and baal #kallamar x lamb #cotl fanfic

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