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odderancyart · 6 years

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On a Never Resting Sea

Chapter XXV: The Spring Sacrifice

First Last Next

AO3

Summary: Razz, the heir of the Beobyrian Empire, is on his way home from a diplomatic mission as his ship gets attacked by pirates. Suddenly he finds himself taken as hostage, and it doesn’t seem like the pirates are planning to exchange him for a ransom anytime soon. How annoying.

Warnings: violence, death, blood, hostage holding, kidnapping, prostitution

Chapter-specific warning: animal death. If you want to skip this, just skip the part between that the High Priestess takes the knife until Razz and Slim talk with each other again.

The day of the Spring Sacrifice was here. It was one of the most important days of the year, where they asked the Mother not only for an early spring, but also for good harvests and fertility during the coming year, among animals and among Sentients. It was the feast of rebirth.

While his maids busied themselves with dressing him in the long, white dress which had been sewn inhumanly fast for him, Razz stared at the wall, taking little notice of their fuzzing. He was starting to panic. Due to his new duties and his upcoming coronation, there had been very little time for planning how to get the crew out of this, and they still did not have a plan. He’d have to improvise. Which, sure, he was good at, but this was life or death, and not only that. His reputation and with that, his throne, was also at stake.

Feather-light fingers grazed over his clavicles, correcting the dress collar. Glancing down as Eirik, another of his maids, subtly cleared his throat, Razz nodded as the other gestured toward the jewellery room. The dress was done. Time to choose accessories. His seal-skin boots were silent against the stone floor as he stepped down from the small platform. Behind him, Murdermallow’s paws and claws clicked, however, as she followed. The doors leading from the dressing room to his miniature treasure chamber opened as he walked toward them. Razz could see the ushers, but paid them little attention. They were shadows, background characters, almost furniture themselves. Unimportant.

His eyes travelled over the walls filled of precious stones and metals even as his soul ached in worry. It had done so ever since he went to bed last night. Without bothering to look whether the maids had followed him or not – of course they had, they always did, he marched straight to the shelves of blood-red jewellery. The colour of fertility. Just as was fitting and correct to wear during the Spring Sacrifice. Studying them closely, Razz eventually chose a set made from pure silver, with rubies in the shape of drops. Blood drops. Another symbol of fertility.

And, Razz pressed his fangs together at the thought, what would flow today could he not come up with a reason to show mercy. Yet, even while his mind was focused on other things, like how he was going to get his (former?) lover out of the death penalty, he knew that his choice of jewellery would matter quite a lot today. It would be his first public appearance as the Queen of Beobyra. It would mean everything. Which was why he felt himself shivering lightly as he began to choose between tiaras and circlets.

It was nerve-wracking. And he could feel Sylvie throw him a worried glance as she fastened the necklace around his throat and bracelets around his wrists. Razz looked down at her, and then the jewels. They were lovely. Suddenly, without really knowing why, he asked her, “THIS JEWELLERY. IT WAS MY MOTHER’S, WAS IT NOT?”

“It was, Your Majesty,” Sylvie replied softly. Her voice had gotten a melancholic tone – she had been the old queen’s maid once, before she was transferred to Razz after his mother’s death. Smiling, Sylvie looked up at him. “I hope I am not speaking out of place, Your Majesty, but she would have been proud of you.”

It felt like his soul was being stabbed, and Razz was forced to keep in a grimace. Yeah. His late mother would’ve been so proud to know that he was plotting to get his kidnapper out of execution because he had fallen in love with him. Still, as Sylvie smiled at him, smiling back wasn’t too hard. By the Mother, he missed her. He had only been eight when she died, but he missed her. But he’d only have to wait until his death, and then he would meet her again in the Blessed Lands. Because there was no doubt she’d gone there. A warrior such as her would not have been denied access.

Eventually, he picked out one of his many ruby-covered silver crowns, putting it firmly on his head. It was a lovely one, almost more of a circlet than a crown with its winding patterns. In difference to the other jewellery he was wearing, it had not been his mother’s. Instead it had been gifted to him on his fifteenth Midwinter.

As soon as they’d left his jewellery-room behind and the doors had been properly closed again, one of the maids came with the blood red overcoat. As soon as they’d put it onto him, he nodded and walked toward his chambers’ front doors. With a flick of his finger, he called Murdermallow to his side. She woofed happily. The doors slid open, and with pounding soul he left his chambers.

Almost time for the Sacrifice.

Marmalade slowly walked into the crowd swarming the Hills of Ancient. Stroking her throat lightly, Razz held the reins steady in one hand to keep her calm. As hunting and war horse, she was perfect. Not so much for these occasions. Yet he refused to exchange her for another. Just like Murdermallow, Marmalade was his darling. At his side, Slim rode, and Murdermallow was at the ground. Above them, she skies were clear as the night’s last stars twinkled high above. A good sign. The snow sparkled in the moonlight. A murmur came from the crowd, which was full of anticipation. They parted for the royal entourage, allowing them to reach the altar without much trouble.

The altar was beneath the highest hill. The hill where all the Valkyria rulers had been buried ever since Queen Thyra a thousand years ago. Razz saw the High Priestess standing on it, dressed only in a white, furred dress. No overcoat anywhere to be seen. On all the smaller hills merchants and jesters had put up their places, amusing the masses until it was time for the main attraction. He and his brother stopped just in front of the altar, on which a huge stone statue of the Mother stood. She had been moved from the Temple of Thyragård this very morning. A thousand torches lit up the Hills, flames dancing, reaching towards the stars.

Beneath him, Marmalade snorted impatiently as he held her in. Standing still was terrible, apparently. They stayed on top of the horses until the High Priestess smiled. She curtsied before spreading her arms. “I welcome you to the Spring Sacrifice, Your Majesty, Your Highness.”

“WE ARE GRATEFUL FOR YOUR WELCOMING, HIGH PRIESTESS,” Razz replied formally as two lesser priests came to hold their horses. Dismounting Marmalade, he patted her throat. Murmured for her to be good. After him, his brother followed his lead. The snow crunched as his boots sank into it.

“May the Mother with us another year,” Slim levelly continued Razz’s greeting, bowing his head in respect.

The High Priestess smiled brightly. For the highest religious power in the world, Razz found her unusually lively and easy to be around. While she still truly radiated the Mother’s grace, in comparison to the old High Priest she was truly a joy. She said, “I’m sure we will! All the signs point toward Her being unusually happy with us. It might be that Silenth is finally a part of the Empire. Much thanks to you, Your Highness.”

Slim smiled, a certain confidence not often seen suddenly radiating from him. It was the general who shone through, Razz knew. While his brother was not insecure in any way – he couldn’t afford to be, he was never quite as confident as when he was allowed to be a soldier rather than a royal. There was pride in his voice as he said, “It wasn’t easy. The Silenthi trapped up their defence after Peosana left the Empire. Yet, with the Mother’s help and thanks to our courageous soldiers, we didn’t doubt a second that we’d eventually win.”

“Of course we would,” the High Priestess agreed before gazing toward the horizon. Throwing an eye the same way, Razz noted that the sky quickly got lighter and lighter. Only one star remained above. Daylight was approaching. And so were her duties. Without needing prompting, the brothers left to take their places near the altar as the High Priestess went to do the last preparations. Behind them, the Elites on duty – including Alphys – took their places. Ready, as always, to step in should it be needed.

Soon, one of her subordinates blew the horn. The sound was loud and clear, signalling to everyone it was time. At the horizon, the first sunbeams of dawn became visible. The crowd gathered quickly, people pushing forward to be able to see. The High Priestess stood on top of the altar, holding up her hands toward the skies. Ancient words spilled from her mouth in song and prayer. Awe filled Razz as he watched. Everything was silent. Then, snow creaked as Temple guards led a beautiful deer toward the altar from behind. Its brown fur had been brushed until it shone, and small horns rose over its head. They’d just started to grow out again after the long winter.

Not for a moment did the High Priestess’ song let up. Eventually, the lower priests and priestesses joined in as well, and the song floated through the air. Words only they could understand. Words too ancient for anyone else. Melodies too holy to be sung by others. And then, without warning, they all fell quiet. Just in time for the clicking of the deer’s hooves against the stone altar to be heard everywhere. It looked nervous, but didn’t struggle. It had been chosen during autumn, and trained to obedience all winter.

The deer was halted just in front of the statue. It was quickly tied up, legs secured to the iron rings on the floor. A Temple servant walked up on the altar, holding an iron case. Hardly even breathing was heard, and Razz could feel his soul pound in his chest. He had been to this ceremony every year since he was five. Yet it never failed to capture him. Reverence for the Mother Goddess and Her ceremonies filled every inch of his being, blocking out every doubt and insecurity for now. The High Priestess opened the case, taking out a knife. The blade was of their best iron, the handle of carved bone.

“We honour You, our Mother,” she chanted, turning toward the statue and the deer. Every sign of the youthful woman was gone, and instead there stood a wise and powerful servant of their goddess. “We hail You, and we serve You, only You. Give us courage, give us strength. Give us fertile harvests and many strong children, so that we can live to fight Your battles when the end times come. Give us wisdom and heal our wounds, so that we can serve You to our best abilities. And, beloved Mother, give us, Your children, Spring, so that we can once again rise from the snowy winters of the north to instead spread Your legacy across the world!”

As the last words were pronounced, the knife was brought down. The animal let out a hiss as its throat was slit, and the High Priestess quickly jumped out of the way as it threw back with its head, legs trashed as much as they could while tied down. Its eyes were wide and panicked as blood flowed quickly from the wound. The crowd watched it fight against death, full of excitement, and Razz grinned in anticipation as it fell, hitting the altar with a thump. The blood kept flowing, gathering in a natural bowl in the altar. It twitched a couple more times before it stilled. Dead.

The High Priestess stepped forward again, over the deer carcass. Kneeling, she dipped her fingers in the blood before facing the statue. With practiced ease, she painted symbols on the Mother’s forehead, cheeks, and chest plate. As she did, Razz unbuttoned his coat, shivering in the cold air. One of the guards took it, helping him sliding it off.

“Your Majesty,” the High Priestess then said solemnly. “The Mother is ready for you.”

Slowly, Razz made his way up on the altar. The hem of his white dress was immediately drenched in blood. Facing her, he kept an expression just as solemn as hers on his face. Once again, she bowed down to dip her fingers into the blood. Her hand moved toward his face.

“In the Mother’s name I greet you, Queen Razz, Fourth of your name, and in the name of your first Spring Sacrifice as Her chosen ruler, I anoint you in the sacrifice’s blood to grant you many strong and healthy children to be your heirs. To grant you a long life. To grant you the strength of your ancestors, whose remains rest beneath us. In the Mother’s name, I do all of this, for you are Her chosen one.”

Closing his eyes, he felt her fingers move over his face, painting ancient symbols on the bone. Then the hand left, and he opened them again. The High Priestess gave him a nod before holding out the knife to him. A priest stepped forward, holding out a rabbit for him. It was thrashing wildly as Razz grabbed it, and stepped toward the statue. Quickly shifting his grip on the knife, he bowed deeply for the statue.

“FOR YOU, MOTHER, AND FOR MY PEOPLE,” he declared as he held the rabbit out in front of him, “I GIVE YOU THIS SACRIFICE. MAY YOU GRANT US AN EARLY AND RICH SPRING, IF IT IS YOUR WILL.”

With a swift move, he cut the head off. As the blood flowed, drenching both his dress and the statue, he bowed once again, dropping the rabbit by the deer. After nodding respectfully at the High Priestess, he walked down the stage slowly. All eyes were on him as he let the guards help him shrug on the coat again. He was no longer cold, since the blood was warm, but as soon as it cooled he’d be freezing without the coat.

The most important part of the Spring Sacrifice was over. Now everyone who wanted would leave gifts and sacrifices for the Mother. And the feast would start. Already the scent of newly brewed mead and meat roasted over open fire began to find its way into the crowd. Resisting the urge to lick his teeth, Razz smiled at his brother and friends in the Elite. Freja, one of the youngest Elites, held out a wet cloth for him, which he gratefully took. After wiping the blood of his face – dried blood was so uncomfortable – he gestured toward the carnival taking place on a smaller hill.

“SO, BROTHER,” he said. The guards were on duty, they’d follow him everywhere. “HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT SOME FRESH HONEY MEAD?”

“Sounds marvellous, bro,” Slim replied, smiling. He was nearly whispering so no one but them and the guards could hear his informality. Nodding, Razz swung himself up at Marmalade as a priest came back with her.

Anything to keep his thoughts of what soon would come.

“If I were to see your heart, would I see a heart forlorn? Or the sorrow when we’re apart? Would I see the others’ scorn?”

The quiet song danced slowly through the cavern, melancholic and sorrowful. Fell’s low, rough voice was steady, mild, even as his body shivered from the constant cold. Everyone, even the woman, was quiet as he sang. Everyone listened closely to the old words. Taking an odd comfort in them. Placing a hand on his brother’s arm, Red studied his face, smiling slightly. It was a song Fell had often sung when they were young and at the streets.

“Near bereft of hope we every evening lay, each other to bed with teared eyes. For hope and luck I always pray, but it’s hard to find in the dark skies.”

A waterdrop hit his brow. Without paying notice, Red wiped it off. He huddled closer to his brother, closing their coats more over them. Undyne sat on Fell’s other side, sharing the coats as well. They were freezing. Red was surprised no one had gotten pneumonia yet. Fell’s voice wavered. He was staring toward the cave wall, yet Red was willing to bet he wasn’t seeing anything.

“And when the morning rises, while our eyes are dry again, perhaps fortune’s merciless dices, will only give us reason to cry.”

A quiet hum began to follow Fell’s voice, and Red startled when he realized it came from him. He hadn’t noticed. But he wasn’t surprised. It was strangely comforting to sit here, huddled together all three while Fell sang. It was almost like they were back in Drahenport again. Except the cold. Not even in the winter did Peosana and Drahenport get this cold. Gods, he hated the cold. Why had they ever left the hot sun and humid air of home.

“So each day has ever turned, and nothing seems to matter, with every twig of hope burned, the future before us shatter.”

A quiet sob heaved Red’s chest. Fell’s arm sneaked around his shoulders, holding him close. Undyne’s hand squeezed his leg. The guards had been ‘kind’ enough to, when coming with the breakfast porridge, letting them know that their days had run out. The execution was today. And he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want his friends to die, he didn’t want his siblings to die. Razz had said he’d save them, but it wasn’t realistic to believe. Razz was the empress. Even if he loved Red, he wouldn’t prioritize him over his reputation. It just didn’t work like that. An empress didn’t do that for a whoreson pirate. The trembling got worse, and he could see a tear fall from Fell’s socket.

“Yet we’re never alone, for we always have each other. So no matter how the winds of fate have blown, nothing could be truther, than that we will fight forever, as long as we stay together.”

Footsteps suddenly echoed through the halls. The song stopped, and it was like everyone collectively exhaled. Like everyone had been holding their breaths without realizing it. Anxiously, they all glanced toward the dark hallway. To no one’s surprise, it was the guards who had appeared. As they marched toward the cells, armed with handcuffs, Red, Fell, and Undyne quickly parted, slipping on their own coats properly again. There was no guarantee the guards would wait for it otherwise.

There was no getting out of this now. None of them resisted as their hands were forced behind their backs and locked up there. Not even as Red was forced away from his siblings did he resist, not more than to throw them a helpless gaze. ‘M sorry. If he hadn’t taken Razz out on town, nothing of this would’ve happen. They’d be back at Sarynthia, and they wouldn’t be walking toward their deaths any more than usual. Fell only shook his head, glaring at him. Probably for daring to acknowledge that this was his fault.

Red hadn’t told the others about what Razz had promised. When they’d asked, he’d just said that Razz had said goodbye, nothing more, nothing less. There was no reason to; the chance they would get out of this was minimal. Hunching, he followed the guards obediently as they yanked in the rope they’d tied to the cuffs. Fell and Undyne both walked first, as captain and quartermaster. The audience would want to see them the most. And public executions were a show, Red knew that. He’d seen his fair shares at home, and they were more of a carnival than something sombre.

After all, who didn’t love seeing a criminal meet justice?

In front of him, Fell jerked slightly in the handcuffs, and Undyne hissed at the guards when they got too rough. Otherwise neither of them fought, either. It was useless. Chance was, that if they did, everything would just get worse. Everyone was quiet as they walked through the dark tunnel. A few oil lamps at the walls, as well as one torch which a guard held, was the only sources of light. Red wasn’t sure how long they’d been down here. How long had been since they last saw Zanã.

The sobbing had stopped as soon as the guards appeared. They wouldn’t get that satisfaction. After what felt like an eternity, white light appeared at the end of the tunnel. Red narrowed his eyes against it. A cold breeze caressed his cheek. Finally, he was forced to close his eyes and walk blindly as the light got too overwhelming, hurt his eyes too much. Suddenly, snow creaked beneath his boot. Outside. They were outside.

In the end, his eyes got used to the light and Red could open them again. They walked through the city, but it was almost completely empty. It was creepy. Except for the yipping of a loose dog and the creaking of a suspiciously open door, everything was quiet. What was happening? Swallowing, Red observed his siblings from behind. Fell’s back was tense, Undyne’s hands were clenching. They, too, found it wrong. It was like one of the old tales, the one about how the world would end. How everything would just be gone, one day. The world of the Living as well as the spirit world. Devoured by dark spirits without anyone noticing until it was too late.

He chuckled. The first time they’d heard the Story of the End they’d been only five, sitting by a campfire in a back alley of Cherlian. Their uncle had told them the legend, and they hadn’t been able to sleep properly that night. Just waited for the spirits to come and eat them, hugging each other until they fell asleep just before sunrise. It was one of his earliest memories. Wasn’t it fitting it’d be one of his last as well? A guard gave him a suspicious glance, grip tightening around their sword, and Red shut up.

Once they passed through the city gates and over the moat, they’d seen very few Sentients. An old lady on a balcony, a beggar with only one eye, two city guards and some very young children playing on the streets. He couldn’t help but wonder why no thieves seemed to make use of the vacant city to rob it. Undyne had tried to ask the guards what the hell was going on in this city, but instead of an answer she’d received the flat side of a sword onto her arm. Hard. She’d kept her mouth shut ever since.

Finally, life seemed to return to the area. Laughter and music echoed from the distance. Despite himself, Red relaxed. At least the end times weren’t here just yet. He was tired, the walk had been long and extra exhausting with his arms behind his back. But at least the snow had been so trampled up they didn’t have to fight it, as well.

The ground began to lean upwards, and they reached a crowd. It parted for them, and Red hunched even more as scathing words began to fly. Some spit hit the ground just in front of him. Oh, he’d been at the other side of it. He’d jeered at criminals as well. Not because the younger him had looked down on them, but because it had been fun. Given him and his brother a power trip; they weren’t the most hopeless in the city after all. Yet, as “Pirate, criminal, disgrace, traitor,” began to fly, he focused his gaze at the ground.

Zanã floated high, in front of a clear blue sky. Instead of staring at the trampled, now grey snow, Red stared toward them. The Sun was there to watch them meeting death. Because why wouldn’t they? What did it really matter to the deities whether they lived or died? He smiled bitterly. They’d spent their entire lives praying and celebrating them. But what good had that done? Here they were, nonetheless.

Music played in the background, loud and cheerful. There were people dancing, he noticed in the corner of his eye. He looked forward instead. The first thing he saw was the gallows. The dark wooden structures were an enormous contrast against the light of everything else, and they were easy to make out. Eye-catching, even. There were so many. More than half the crew could hang at once. Then his eyes travelled, and he froze in his steps. On the beautiful chestnut horse Red had seen him beside before getting thrown into the dungeons, Razz sat. He was dressed in a coat as red as blood and a crown, sitting completely straight and still, and he was beautiful.

His expression was solemn, revealing very little emotion. Yet Red thought he could see sorrow in there, or he might just be imagining things. Even as the guard yanked the rope to make him walk, he didn’t tear his eyes away. Zanã’s light washed over Razz, making the jewels in his crown shine. His eyes seemed bigger than usual, Red noticed. Makeup, perhaps. The bitter smile melted into something more bittersweet. At least Razz was here for the Big Day, huh? Perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing to be the last thing you ever saw. Razz, in all his beauty and glory.

Nearby, Red noticed Blueberry and Stretch, to his surprise. What the hell did they do here? Why weren’t they in Pirate’s Port- his eyes flickered to Razz. He’d taken them with him. The thought warmed his soul for a moment. He was glad Blueberry wasn’t stuck there forever. They were staring at him, holding hands tightly. Blueberry was crying.

They were lined up just under the huge structures for a short moment before the guards forced them to climb the stairs up on the platforms. Fell and Undyne got the two first, while he was taken farther away. When he passed by Fell, he finally looked away from Razz, who had yet not met his eyes. He walked as slowly as he could, gazing up at his twin who stood proud but obviously afraid as the snare was prepared. “i love ya, bro.”

Fell shakily smiled down at him. “I love ya too.”

As he passed Undyne, he made a quick decision. Staring up at her, he clenched his hands and said, “i haven’ told ya before, ‘dyne, but i love ya as well, like a sister.”

She grinned down at him, even as he could see her eyes getting wet. “I know, lil’ bro.”

Neither of them had time to say more as Red was taken a few ropes away before he was stopped. The guard stopped him there, but didn’t put a snare around his neck just yet. The executioner wasn’t done with Fell’s yet. It felt like he stood there for an eternity, with the rope creaking and the crowd cheering and laughing beneath them. With Razz staring at him sombrely, but not once meeting his eyes. Instead Razz was staring at the gallows itself.

Then, the executioner finally reached him. Red swallowed as the snare was secured around his throat. Death was almost here. Just please, please, please, he thought, throwing out a last prayer to the deities and the Pravannala, let them return to Peosana after the execution. Let them go home.

Glancing to the side, he saw that everyone on the gallows had a snare around their throat. Only a few crewmembers were not up on the platforms. Red didn’t envy them. If there was one thing he was grateful for, it was that he didn’t need to watch his friends and family die before meeting Death himself.

As the executioner and the guards stepped down from the platform, his eyes finally caught Razz. His purple pupils – such a lovely colour – were wide. Razz opened his mouth, but didn’t seem to be able to make a noise, and Red smiled at him. He didn’t blame him. Not at all. A pirate’s life wasn’t worth a throne, he understood that. He had never expected to be worth anything to anyone but his uncle, his mother’s cousin, Fell, and Undyne, so that Razz even felt sadness was enough for him, even if he didn’t wish the other to mourn.

“For the kidnapping of His Royal Majesty Queen Razz the Fourth, by the time Crown Princess Razz-” someone declared. Red didn’t bother to look who, instead just continuing to watch Razz. The only person he’d ever loved romantically, and the only one outside of his family and the crew he’d loved at all. “-the captain and crew of the ship Sarynthia are hereby sentenced to death, and the punishment will be carried out immediately. Your Majesty, do you have anything to add?”

For a moment, Razz face went completely blank. Red’s bittersweet smile widened. Go on. Condemn them. Show his people what he was worth. Then the other’s expression turned determined, and he opened his mouth to speak-

A scream rang out from the crowd, stopping him. Razz jerked, and Red finally stopped staring at him as another scream followed. The crowd was pointing at the sky above, and more exactly, at Zanã. They were- they were disappearing. Red stared upwards in horror before he quickly ducked his head, bowing as much as he could without choking himself. The few crewmembers who did not have snares around their throats fell to their knees. His soul pounded in fear. He did not know what was going on. Were the dark spirits in fact coming? Was Zanã unhappy? Gritting his fangs together, he cursed the handcuffs and snare which prevented him from bowing properly.

The screaming had increased, loud and shrill, before a woman’s voice somehow drowned them out. “Calm down! It is the Mother who wishes to tell us something! There is no need to panic! It is not the End Times, we have not seen the Wolf.”

Slowly, the screaming ceased. Resisting the urge to look down, Red fought down the panic inside his own mind. Why would Zanã disappear? Why was everything going dark? It was the middle of the day.

“High Priestess, may I speak with you?” Razz’s voice suddenly came, somehow sounding relieved. It was very strange, Red couldn’t help but think. Why would he be so calm when the world might be ending? Their Mother wouldn’t be able to help them if Zanã had been devoured or if they had decided to punish Natéa.

Then it was just as dark as the darkest night, without stars or Zalû to give it light. Red stood frozen, not even daring to move. His soul was still beating so hard it felt like it was trying to escape his ribcage. Then, Razz’s voice came again. “AS IT APPEARS TO BE THE MOTHER’S WILL, AND IN HONOUR OF MY UPCOMING CORONATION, I HAVE COME TO A DECISION.”

“THE CREW OF SARYNTHIA, AS WELL AS ITS CAPTAIN, WILL BE SHOWN MERCY. IN THE NAME OF THE MOTHER, I PARDON THEM. FREE THEM FROM THEIR CHAINS AND SNARES.”

For a few moments, Red couldn’t process what he had just heard. Razz- pardon- Then the noise of scrambling chains appeared just as light began to return to the world, and he felt tears well up in his eyes. They were- Razz had- Finally he dared to look up at Zanã again, only for a short moment, and they were beginning to return. The dark nothing which had covered them was disappearing.

“thank ya,” he mumbled reverently. The deities hadn’t abandoned them. They would- they would live. His throat felt thick as he continued to mumble out his gratitude. Similar words came from the crewmembers closest to him as well. “thank ya, thank ya, thank ya.”

Then the rope was cut away from his throat, and the chains around his wrists unlocked. By now Zanã had fully returned, the world was as bright as always. Nevertheless, he bowed deeply for them. They’d need to find something great to sacrifice to show their gratitude. To thank the deities for saving their lives. Then he finally looked up, and his eyes met Razz’s for a moment. Razz smiled quickly before his expression turned neutral again.

“TAKE THEM BACK TO THE CASTLE,” he commanded the guards. “GET THEM SOMETHING PROPER TO EAT.”

A confused murmur broke out among the crowd, and Red could see a few of the people who must be nobles stare at Razz in surprise and dislike, but no one spoke. Then the guards moved to obey, and Red finally straightened his back. Unable to help himself, he grinned widely, his entire body sagging in relief, and he turned to look at Fell and Undyne, who both looked just as disbelieving as he felt. They grinned back at him.

Then his mind and body registered Razz’s words, and his stomach growled. Deities, he was starving.

#on a never resting sea #swapfell #underswap #underfell #sf sans #uf sans #us sans #uf papyrus #sf papyrus #us papyrus #blackcherry #sf alphys #uf undyne #nrs pt. 15 #it got so long i had to cut it into two #but i'll try to get the next chapter up on monday or so

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keelywolfe · 5 years

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FIC: Biting Off More Than You Can Chew; part 9

Summary: Rus knew a confrontation was coming. He just didn't expect it like this.

Note: Wow, I am really sorry it took me so long to update this one.

Tags: heatfic, dubious consent, NSFW, frenemies to lovers, mates, first time, more if I think of them

PLEASE READ THE TAGS: This is a Heat story, so there are going to be issues of consent. I don’t do partner rape, nope, but hey, I want to be straight with y’all. I like heatfics personally, but I understand how they can be troubling for some people. So there it is.

Read Chapter 1

Read Chapter 2

Read Chapter 3

Read Chapter 4

Read Chapter 5

Read Chapter 6

Read Chapter 7

Read Chapter 8

Read Chapter 9 on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

So it turned out Edge did deserve some credit. Despite being dumped on his own in Underswap where to him all the paths would seem backwards and wrongways, he didn’t do too bad getting back to Snowdin.

Not that Rus let him get too far out of sight. Better to not leave any of the Underfell crowd alone in his ‘verse, right? Edge probably wasn’t going to start any weekend massacres or anything, but it was always good to make sure nothing happened to make Monday morning coffee a little awkward at Muffet’s.

So instead of taking a direct shortcut home, instead he took shorter ones, keeping just ahead of Edge. Besides, even if Edge didn’t know the path, the hints of cigarette smoke that Rus left behind were probably as good as a map, anyway. Not the most conventional puzzle clue, but hey. Rus was a unique guy, gotta love it.

Rus was leaning against the garage, finishing up a last cigarette when Edge finally stalked back into town. He looked irritated, but if the last few hours taught Rus anything, it was that his expression didn’t always jive with what Edge was feeling.

"not bad, edgelord,” Rus called, “you made it back without—" killing anyone, Rus bit off. If they were stuck being bonded together, toning it down on being a complete dick was probably a good starting move, "—getting lost," Rus finished, lamely.

Somehow, he didn't think Edge was completely fooled by the bait and switch. "Thank you, I live for your middling approval. Knowing that I have your respect makes all the effort worthwhile.”

“i’m good for all kinds of middle-ing,” Rus gave him a wink and an upraised middle finger, softening it with a grin. The glare he got in return was no birthday surprise but—

Okay, Edge’s brick wall metaphor worked pretty well for keeping their emotions from butting together, but it was obvious they weren't entirely pros at this whole blocking off the bond thing. A ghostly brush of amusement that wasn’t his own slithered over Rus before vanishing.

Oh.

Edge thought he was funny. In spite of that face of his that always seemed stuck in constipated disapproval, beneath it, Edge actually thought he was funny. It was an uncomfortable realization, made Rus play back a dozen other interactions where he took Edge's remarks as sarcasm and yeah, they were, but not the sarcasm he thought, tainted with dislike and irritation. It was playful sarcasm, the funtimes sarcasm that Sans and Rus both wielded like weapons experts and Red—

Nope, Red was banned from the physical and mental today.

That faint pulse of amusement was turning Rus’s world on its head and Edge was staring at him with narrowed sockets. What was he feeling, Rus wondered, wildly, what emotions was Rus sending his way, because Edge told him the morning after over pancakes that he’d never hated Rus. Somehow, that hadn't gotten around to translating into Rus’s head that maybe Edge liked him, a little, and fuck, fuck, did he know that Rus was trying not to think about kissing him? That he was remembering the heat of Edge’s mouth when he’d fitted his teeth into the healing bite mark on Rus’s collarbone, which suddenly decided now was its chance to start throbbing. The temptation was growing despite Rus trying desperately to plant a mental brick on top of it.

Did he take a step closer or did Edge? Rus wasn't even sure. His cigarette dropped from his hand into the snow and Rus barely heard the hiss as it extinguished.

He was looking at Edge’s mouth and was certainly not thinking at all of the way he’d used it in their shared shower, the unexpected skill of his tongue, he wasn’t, he fucking wasn’t, and Rus didn’t even comprehend the soft ‘ting’ of Edge’s soul turning blue until he was yanked backwards and thrown to the ground. He whipped his head around to see Blue standing with his hand outstretched, his starry eyes blazing with blue-yellow flames. “What the hell did you do to my brother!”

Rus didn’t think. Everything was on automatic as he called on his own magic, flooding with more power than he normally accessed for simple shortcuts as he extended his control hand and pushed. His brother flew back, bouncing off the porch steps with enough force to knock a couple points off his HP.

Snow fell off him in clumps as Blue sat up, his expression twisting between hurt and shock. "Papy?"

Oh, fuck. What had he done, he’d never, never hurt his brother, oh, god, oh, fuck, he--

"okay, that's enough!"

He felt the hard rush of magic enveloping his own soul, the ridiculously cheery chime of it changing blue. It was the only warning he got before Rus was sent sprawling in the snow, cold wetness seeping into his sweatshirt and pants. With an effort, Rus lifted his head from the ground to see Blue and Edge both equally pinned.

To his shock, it was Sans holding them down, one eye socket blazing yellow-blue. His brother stood anxiously next to him, wringing his hands as Sans made his slow way down the stairs, uncaring at the slush dampening his slippers as he walked over to Rus.

"you all right?" Sans asked Rus bluntly.

"me?” Rus sputtered, “of course i’m all right, why the hell--“

Sans interrupted him, his normal laconic speech crisped into sharp syllables. It reminded Rus of…of someone, he wasn’t sure who— “because the three of us just got a hellava treat listening through a locked door while you begged him not to touch you, and when we broke in, you were both gone. no offense, edgelord, but that didn't seem like the world’s friendliest chat going on."

"None taken," Edge said calmly, for all the world like they were having a debate over the dining room table and he wasn't pinned down in the wet snow. "We can explain."

Rus flinched, because they could, but he didn't want to, he didn't, fuck, it was no one else's business. To his relief, he and Sans were in agreement.

"don't need an explanation,” Sans said. The sharpness in his words faded with the strobing light in his socket. “whatever is between you two is on you. just wanted to make sure no one was hurt." He let his hand drop and the pressure on Rus’s soul eased. “now, i wanna watch a movie. you all can come along when you’re ready. c’mon, pap.”

He shuffled his way into the house, Papyrus at his heels and whatever furious, too-loud whispers he was directing at his brother were drowned out by the dull roar in Rus’s head as he looked over to where Blue was laying.

Rus scrambled up and stumbled over to his brother who was slowly sitting up. His baby brother whom he’d never hurt, never, spent years putting band aids on his scraped knees, worked three jobs until he’d been able to get them a house. Those starry eyes always looked at him trustingly, always, and Rus fell to his knees next to him, reaching out and afraid to touch. “blue," Rus started brokenly, "i’m so--"

He broke off when Blue flung himself into his arms, holding him tightly enough to make his breath whoosh out. "Papy! I was so worried!"

"i'm sorry, bro," Rus wheezed, hugged him just as tightly even as his ribs groaned a protest.

He heard the crunch of snow next to them and ducked his head lower, burying his face into Blue’s scarf. Not even a week bonded, and it was already fucking with his head enough that he’d hurt his brother. He needed to get a handle on this, now, and it was pretty obvious that Edge being in his general vicinity wasn’t helping.

A raw little sound escaped from Rus as Blue let go, trying to squirm free and reluctantly, Rus let him. Standing, his brother was barely taller than Rus was kneeling down, but he looked up over Rus’s head with uncommon solemnness.

"I'm sorry, Edge," Blue said quietly.

"No apologies are necessary.” That rough voice, directly behind him, and Rus viciously suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold snow he was kneeling in. "You were worried for your brother, of course you'd want to protect him.”

Despite his sincere attempts not to think of Red, a pang went through Rus, mostly his, but maybe not all. Protecting his brother, yeah, and Red was a fucker and a half, but—

More snow crunching, moving away and Rus heard the click of the front door, leaving him alone with his brother.

Lifting his head to look at Blue was the hardest thing Rus had ever done. But his eye lights were as starry as ever, filled with that same trust. Not that Rus deserved it, never had, but even less so now. “bro, i’m so sorry.”

Blue only waved it off, unconcerned that his older brother just fucking attacked him like some New Home street thug. “Don’t be silly, Alphys does worse than that when she tells me good morning.”

Too forgiving, by far, always, but damn if Rus wasn’t selfish enough to take it. He nodded, letting out a shaky sigh, “i'm sorry if we worried you.”

Now that he wasn’t all torn up by his feeble attempt at fratricide, what Sans said was starting to come in a little clearer. No wonder Edge let them all off so easy; if Rus had been on the other side of the door listening to Blue begging someone not to touch him, they’d be picking splinters out of the kitchen cupboards for a month.

A gloved hand cupped the side of Rus’s face he leaned into it, shamelessly basking in his brother’s affection. “Papy, what’s going on?”

“i—" Rus hesitated, swallowing hard. How could he explain any part of this to his brother? He’d never hidden his sexual proclivities, neither proud nor ashamed of them, and Blue never judged. The worst he’d ever gotten was exasperated when Rus was late because he’d accidentally slept over. But how could he look into his brother’s trusting, starry eyes and explain this clusterfuck? But he couldn’t say nothing, either.

Okay, then, evasive maneuvers. “can we talk about it later?”

Gentle as his brother was, there was some steel in his spine and right now it was working as a poker in his ass. That expression was pure determination, even as Blue nodded. He was getting a pass, for now, but it wouldn’t last forever, and Rus was going to have to either come clean or work out a new bedtime story that Blue might buy.

Welp, that was a problem for Tomorrow Rus. Today Rus pulled his brother in for another hug, one that Blue happily returned…for a moment.

"Phew!" Blue pushed him away, and his expression was one of almost comical dismay. "You stink, brother, when was the last time you took shower?"

Wow, rude. “i took a shower this morning! i’m clean as a freshly washed bar of soap.” Rus tugged up the front of his sweatshirt and gave it a good sniff. Didn’t smell weird to him, but then, he spent all day stewing in his odors, so he probably wouldn’t notice. "probably my hoodie, must've picked it from the wrong laundry pile."

“Go change,” Blue scolded, giving him a gentle shove even as he waved a hand in front of his face. “Do you want to finish the movie? You can go take a nap if you’d rather, I can tell the others you’re tired.”

“bro, you are a bonafide living angel,” Rus said, and that was nothing but frank honesty.

Blue huffed out a laugh and gave him another playful shove. “Go on, then, I’ll bring you up a plate later.”

“thanks, bro,” Rus scrambled to his feet, dripping snow as he dropped a kiss on top of Blue’s skull and stepped back, shortcutting up to his room. He stripped off his wet clothes and left them in a pile, not bothering to replace them as he collapsed bare bones onto the mattress, already halfway to an exhausted dreamland.

The blanket stayed in a crumpled ball at his feet, unused. Maybe he needed to check on their thermostat, Rus decided, already more asleep than not. Cheap fucking thing might be broken again, because it felt like it was set too high. The house seemed kinda hot.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #biting off more than you can chew

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