#sadau

‘Baelor…’ she choked, his name scraping her throat. Nothing happened. He didn't move, didn't blink, didn't breathe. Maekar tensed at the sound of her voice, slouching even more so, the knight to his side turned and even managed a slight bow, the man holding her husband looked up, but not Baelor. She pushed past Maekar and fell to her knees beside him, and brushed a hand over the side of his face, as she'd do in the morning to wake him, yet instead of a warm silk of his cheek her fingers tasted cold. Up close she could see it all too clearly, he wasn't just pale, his skin had lost color, his mismatched eyes weren't starring, they were forever frozen. But the worst of it was the wound on the back of Baelor's head she couldn't see from where she'd stood. Up close it almost made her sick. 

It was meant to be just a tourney. He wasn't even going to joust. She caught herself thinking. In the silence between Ser Duncan's ‘I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…’  she heard her heart shudder and the way Maekar flinched made her wonder if he'd heard it too. 

Everything else smudged into an endless blur: the maesters, the preparations, the words said over Baelor's body. She knew she should've cared, she knew she should've listened and prayed, yet all she was able to think of was if it would've hurt less had she followed Baelor into those flames. It's been days, but the world seemed too quick, too alive for the world her husband had no longer walked, and she only knew it was all wrong: the maesters, the preparations, the words said over Baelor's body, the pyre, even the flames. He should have been burned on Dragonstone, not on Ashford's cliffs, after living a long and happy life, ruling the realm he had sacrificed for so much, not falling on the jousting field at his brother's hand. Baelor deserved that life and a proper funeral with all his family present, yet even Matarys, his youngest, didn't have enough time to get to Ashford  before Baelor had been turned to ash and bone. None of it was right or fair. 

She stayed over the pyre long after the flames had died, taking all the warmth with them. The wind howled a funeral song above her head, ruffling the ashes in front of her, and that too seemed wrong. Baelor's ashes should've danced with a different wind, warmer, dornish. She snuggled tighter into his cloak, draped over her shoulders. It smelled of him: pinewood and smoke,  and ink, and that dornish soap he was so fond of, and for a breath she almost felt as if safe in his arms.

‘Sister…’ a hand on her shoulder was unmistakably Maekar's, for no one else would've been a fool enough to dare touch her. A part of was surprised even he did, for Maekar had kept his distance since the trial. 

His grief turned out to be quieter than she’d expected, the guilt eating at his blunt and jagged demeanor, any hint of his princely composure thinning to a fractured soul of a broken man. ‘I'm sorry.’

The words fell between them like a deadweight, with an almost audible thud, too flat and hollow for the pain she was. They couldn't fill that void, they could not mend the broken bleeding mess that her heart had become, and if she didn't know better, she’d dismiss them as meaningless, a formality from a prince to the widow of his fallen brother, but it was Maekar who had spoken them. Not Aerys or Rhaygel, who despite loving their brother did not share a bond with her quite as deep as Maekar’s ran. He was the closest she ever had to a brother and she still  loved him for it, yet she could not find any comfort in his apology, not when she could almost see Baelor:s blood on his hands, should she stare  hard enough. It was Maekar's hand that dealt the blow, it was his mace that crushed Baelor's skull, it was his son who instigated the trial in the first place. A mere touch of his made her skin crawl and, shuddering, she shed Maekar's hand off her shoulder, tears burning in her eyes. Or was that ash? 

Maekar didn't speak another word. He retracted back silently, just a step behind her shoulder, far enough to be out of the view, yet close enough to catch her should she break. She wished she did, could, but the tears would not come. A part of her refused to admit Baelor gone even though she felt it with every inch of her body. His absence left a gaping wound in her chest, something inside her extinguished forever like his pyre. 

Time passed in fog , solitude and agony. During the days she'd wander around the castle, expecting to see her husband around every corner. She'd walk into the inner yard to see him spar with his brother, the way they did every morning, half clothed, grins wide, heat radiating off of their bodies, only to find the place empty and cold. At night she'd seek him in her dreams, yearning for one more touch, one more look of his mismatched eyes, one more soft spoken word, only to wake up alone shivering, her pillow wet with tears.  No matter how much wood she fed to the flames in their chamber, the chill would not die inside her. It almost felt like Baelor had taken all the warmth of the world with him. She'd wear his cloaks, his tunics, sit in his chair, at his desk with his books yet nothing brought her any sort of comfort, Baelor's absence aching like the wound that would not heal. 

No one dared disturb her. The servants, the hosts, the guards all carefully navigated around her broken heart, tending to her needs in most invisible ways. She could not bear the sight of the Kingsguard and they somehow miraculously, without a word spoken of hers, managed to keep watch without being seen. She'd wake dreading facing a soul and somehow the corridors would be deserted once she'd step out of her rooms. She suspected Maekar's hand in those little gestures, though had no way of knowing for sure. The grief that extinguished her fire feasted upon his soul, drawing a deeper wedge between them. 

The first to break her silence was Aegon. He snuck into Baelor's study a little over midnight, fortnight past the funeral, and didn't spot her until the floors squicked under her shifted leg. His eyes went wide for a moment, then he lowered his head. 

‘Your Grace, forgive me,’ he mumbled under his nose. ‘I didn't mean to disturb. The book…  Uncle's book I borrowed…’

Aegon's voice trailed off as he held up a tome he brought. She felt a stab in her heart at the memory of her and Baelor's countless  debates over his habit of taking quite a few heavy tomes on the trips. He'd always won, just like this time. She imagined him at her side, smiling at her in that very moment in his most impolite way of telling ‘I told you so’. Something inside broke with a thud. 

‘Keep it, Aegon,’ she almost whispered, not trusting her voice not to tremble. ‘You know he'd want you to.’

The boy's eyes shot up, tears silently falling down his chin, that stubborn Targaryen look on his face. Then in a blink he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face somewhere against her middle. She stroked his bold head until he gathered himself and bid her good night. 

A day later, somewhat steady on his feet, came Ser Duncan, begging for forgiveness on his knees and swearing his fealty. She was glad to see him recovering, yet could not bring herself to speak the oath. Ser Duncan's loyalty belonged to Baelor as was his oath to be accepted, and sitting in Baelor's chair, wearing Baelor's tunic, dreaming about one more touch of Baelor's hands, she would not be the one to take her husband's right.She could not find the words to assure the poor hedge knight she did not hold her husband's death against him either, so they just sat there in silence for some time. 

Valarr didn't come at all. The boy wasn't her blood, yet she only ever thought him a son and her heart broke for him. He'd always been the one to seek comfort from his father and now, with Baelor gone, he closed himself off from everyone, except for Kiera perhaps.

It was Maekar, who first made an effort to gather what was left of their family together the moment Aerion was well enough to hold a fork on his own. He suggested dinner and despite dreading seeing her nephew, she granted her presence, doing what she thought Baelor would want.

Do not bear any ill-will against my brother he'd say. 

And she didn't. Just as she didn't expect herself to lose her composure that easily, yet when Aerion argued with being sent in Lys, claiming i did nothing wrong she slapped him hard across the face, faster than anyone could react. His eyes flared up for a moment, his usual temper ignited in seconds. He hissed:

‘Last time someone struck a royal blood they…’

‘Do finish this sentence, nephew,’ she spat, cutting him short. ‘I dare you.’

Daeron frowned, Valarr's hand flaxed around his knife, Aegon stared in horror as her cold blue gaze clashed against Aerion's violet. The fire inside her raged, demanding he'd pay in blood for his deeds, a part of her anticipating a fight. Someone needed to wipe the floor with that arrogant child of a prince and she was more than willing to. 

‘I am a dragon…’ Aerion started again and she flat out scoffed. 

‘You are but a child,’ she argued. ‘A child and a fool, who has no honor or regard for someone else's life. A trial that killed your Prince and uncle also proved you're a coward, not that there was any doubt.’ The words tasted like poison on her lips, yet saying them was almost pleasing. ‘Your ancestors would be ashamed of you.’

Aerion seemed taken aback for a moment. ‘You can't talk to me like that! You know nothing about…’

‘Enough!’ Maekar smashed his hand on the table, just as Valarr rose from his seat, intent on defending her. ‘Another word out of your fucking mouth, boy, and so help you gods…’

Whether it was the fury in his father’s eyes or the murder in his aunt's, Aerion didn't speak another word and returned to his food, glaring daggers at his cousin from time to time. Valarr ignored him, as did she until deciding to excuse herself. 

Maekar came to her later that night, his sharp knock on the door cutting through the silence. She let him in, yet he remained by the door, rigid, sharp, as if his instinct of a seasoned fighter demanded he had an escape route. The heavy silence between them was defening. 

‘I'm sorry.’ She spoke first, her mouth curved in disgust with her own actions. ‘I shouldn't have hit him.’

Baelor would be disappointed. 

‘Well, someone had to.’ Maekar's voice was raw. ‘Ser Duncan's beating clearly didn't tame that boy's pride.’

He spoke firmly, steadily even, yet she could feel the extent of his trauma laced through the words. He almost lost Aerion in that fight, and even though the realm would've been better for it, Maekar could not bear the death of his child, no matter the horrors that child committed. The way his jaw trembled, told her Maekar was wrangling with his torn heart at that very moment. 

‘I should have done it,’ he sighed. ‘Should've dragged him by the ear out of that room and made him take the accusations back. I should've…’

His own words seemed to cut him deep, for Maekar's whole frame shrinked. ‘If I did…  if i fucking tried he'd..  Baelor'd be… ‘

A broken sound escaped his mouth, painfully close to a whimper. For a moment the mask of a perfect prince fractured, Maekar's agony almost overwhelming. Then he managed a half choked ‘I'm sorry.’ before turning to the door, covering in the shadows as if regretting exposing himself. 

“Maekar…” she spoke, surprised by the fondness her voice carried. He froze, not daring to look her in the eyes, hand on the door handle. She walked to him, placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying, comforting.

“My husband's choice was his own to make.’ She said firmly. ‘Its weight is not yours to carry.’

He took a sharp breath in and shook his head:

‘And yet, the blow that killed him is.’

***

Baelor came to her that night, as warm and beautiful as the day they first met, sun dancing in his blue eye and sparking in his brown. She crushed into him like a storm and he laughed in her ear, his soft voice wrapping around her like a cloak. 

‘I miss you,’ she whispered somewhere in the crook of his neck. 

"Never did think it would be this I'd be doing... I'm exhausted already!"

Zero frowned. "I'm not gonna carry you. You probably weigh a shit ton, anyway.

Five gasped, her hand over her heart. "Hey, now that's just rude, sister!"

The Original Intoner shrugged. "Perfectly good mountain we're on to jump off at aaanytime, Five."

"Hmph, you just don't appreciate the finer things in life."

"Again; you're free to jump off at anytime."

Mikhail looked at you. "Erm... are they getting along? They don't look like they're getting along."

You smiled, patting the dragon's head. "Nah, they are; just in their own way, is all."

Mikhail did not reply, so you kept on fightning.

You know, living with Zero was... actually really nice.

Mikhail was an absolute pleasure and a pain in your asses, but you had helped Zero in every way you can.

...Of which had also included some more... 'intimate' activities. Still, what with your 'condition', you were still alive at the end of the day. Although, recently, you and Zero had a... change.

Originally, you and her engaged in the bedroom to keep her powers--and her--alive. However, in the last three months, it had slowly become... fulfilling? You don't know. Although, given that Zero had a difficult upbringing, you had decided to not question it (which, you thought, looking at her, made her forgive your intrusion a tiny bit more.)

And then, that day happened. The infamous line.

"How many times do I have to tell you..." Zero slowly asked, walking towards the stiff baby Dragon, who was on his back legs after being caught rolling around in the mud by her house. "Don't... roll around... IN THE FUCKING MUD!"

...A second later, Mikhail, the reincarnation of the mighty Dragon known as Michael, had urinated onto the ground. As you and Zero looked on in silence, the silver-haired man, who had been quiet for the past month, spoke.

"...I still can't honestly believe that this is Michael's reincarnation." Loux spoke honestly, although his grin seemed to say he didn't miss it. Mikhail's personality, you mean.

"Well, not much we can do at the moment." you turned to Zero, "I suppose we'll be off, then?"

"If only to get that idiot under control."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah, your hunch was correct; almost nothing had changed from the main game, other than you trying to avoid senseless slaughter along the way.

And, when the first... Rest scene(?) came along, Mikhail had decided to go off and, at Zero's command, 'clean that shitty smell off of him.'

Which left you and Zero alone, and in silence. After a moment of it, Zero looked up, an odd expression on her face.

Normally, the pink-eyed woman had a neutral, almost bored expression; however, she know looked at you with an expression you didn't fully understand. It looked like... curiousity?

She sighed deeply. "So. A year, huh?"

You knew she didn't like to be interrupted, so you stayed quiet, only nodding in response.

"I won't lie; I didn't like our living arrangements at first, but after our first... 'stunt' together, I thought I could at least tolerate you. Don't get me wrong; I don't hate men, I just don't have the greatest history with them."

That hit you in the feels. Zero's childhood wasn't at all easy. From that, you really couldn't blame her way of thinking.

"Then, in the last month... God almighty this is a pain in the ass..." she whispered the last part quietly to herself, then said normally, "I... well, you're a God, and probably the only other person I can relay on, minus the dummy.

"I'm not sure what happened; all I know is..." she breathed in, and then out. "Thanks. And that's the only time I'm gonna say this shit."

You nodded, a small smile on your face. Despite how out of her normal personality that was, you could tell how much your company was to her; in a way, you (and, possibly even Mikhail) were the only thing that kept Zero sane in the last year.

"And of course you--oh, fuck it, I'm going to get the Dragon!" she stood up and ran after the white-scaled Dragon.

You stopped smiling, but couldn't help yourself laughing slightly. Zero really was an enigma. But hey, who doesn't like a good mystery?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, good news and bad news.

The good news is that you and Zero successfully managed to reach the main part of the Land of Seas, where the Intoner known as Five lives, without much hassle. Hell, even Zero looked like she was having fun, for once!

The bad is debatable. Not because of it being between 'bad' and 'the worst experience you've ever had', but because it's any other man's dream that you'd most certainly like to not have.

You had thought to yourself, 'Hey, since I'm basically God, could I ask the guards to just... take me to where Five is?'

Turns out, you could, and did.

And now, well...

"Oh, how this one?" Five asked you, presenting a long kimono robe to you. "This was made in the Far East of Midgard; I daresay this is one of the finest clothes I've ever seen!"

You had met with Five, and she immediately got to work. You weren't used to compliments, so hearing so many at a time surprised you.

"I appreciate the thought, Lady Five," smiling kindly, you gently moved the kimono back. "But I like my own clothes, at the moment."

Five nodded, returning the smile. "I understand, yes; although, should you ever need custom-made clothing, well, I'm always free to ask~"

"Noted." Loux nodded.

"Thank you." you replied. After a moment of silence, Five's golden eyes brightened, struck by a sudden thought.

"Oh, and I nearly forgot!" clasping her hands, she smirked at you. "How was Zero, might I ask~?"

"My, a bit fast on the buzzer, are we?"

"Oh, don't give me that, Llizel!" laughing into her hand, her smirk them turned into a sultry smile. "After all, you of all people know of the sex drive of an Intoner, so to be standing here, one year on... well, can you really blame my curiosity~?"

"She's... well," you shrugged. "Interesting, to say the least. Still," you shook your head, "I'm sure you know why me and Zero's come to visit you, yes?"

"Alas, I do." sighing dramatically, she placed a hand on her head. "She wishes to kill me, doesn't she? Oh, the humani--!"

"No, she doesn't."

"...Eh?" blinking at your sudden remark, Five looked genuinely surprised. "She... wait, did you...?"

"Yes, I did;" hearing the man with lightning in his body whispering into your ear, you repeated the information he spoke to you. "Sadly, I told her that, to bring peace to this world, we'd need to you to summon your Angel. Phanuel, I believe it is?"

At her nod, you continued. "Well, we'd engage in battle, and from there, the rest should follow suit. Understood?"

"So... I need to act none the wiser?" The blonde nodded. "Yes, I can do that. And then, after that, may I please treat you to acquire a new wardrobe?"

You chuckled. "Of course, Five."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, Phanuel got one hell of a buff.

Zero looked at you, her expression level. "So, what was it this time?"

"A cannon shot from Phanuel." getting up and stretching your arms, you rubbed your eyes. "Still, four time's the charm, I suppose."

"Well, at least someone's optimistic," came the dry reply.

As she got on Mikhail (who in turn greeted both of you), Loux appeared over your shoulder. You noticed that, since your conversation with Five, he seemed to have something on his mind.

"So, normally, I don't ask these sorts of questions, but..." facing you, he continued. "How did you survive this past year, given your... duties?"

You raised your index finger, and pointed downwards. "Hyperspermia." came your only reply, and Loux replied with a small 'Ah', nodding in understanding.

The flight was alright from there, when Mikhail suddenly thought it a good time t talk.

"You look pretty down in the dumps, Zero. What's the matter?"

"None of your business." curtly, Zero absentmindedly adjusted her grip on Mikhail's white scales.

"It's not good to keep your feelings to yourself: you should try talking to someone about them!"

"Again, none of your business."

"But, won't you--?"

"Mikhail, no offense, but given Zero's current mood, I'd suggest keeping quiet for now." you kindly offered, and Mikhail nodded.

"Oh, okay, Llizel!"

"I've told you a hundred times now; you don't need to call me that."

"Yeah, but, aren't you like a super important person, though?"

"I've... never given much thought to it. But, I guess so. Still, you're a Dragon."

"And? It's still important to respect your elders!"

"...I'm sorry, the hell did you just--?"

Thankfully, you were cut off by Mikhail landing, and up on the platform, just like the last three times, was Five and her Disciple, Dito.

"It's been far too long, Sister~!" Five greeted, her lips a golden colour, and shining in the light.

"Well, if it isn't the pretty princess," came her eldest sister's dry reply. "So what's it like being surrounded by a bunch of brainwashed idiots?"

"Oh Zero, still after a year, and your tongue is still as sharp as ever; maybe even more-so!" laughing quietly, the youngest of the Intoners gazed down at Zero.

"Really? And here I was, going to give you a housewarming gift."

"A gift? For me? My, whatever could it be?"

"It's revenge. For what you and our 'dear sisters' did to me."

"Oh, yes, that. Still, I would say being with Llizel is a blessing!"

The oldest Intoner raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh really? If anything, they've just kept my powers working."

"Oh, the sweet aroma of denial... you know, Four was really unhappy when she learnt you two were living together. But when I heard it? Why, I still remember how my thighs ached from just the thought of what sheer debauchery you two got up too!"

Five's smile then grew, and her laugh became sharp. "Still, the outcome of this battle has already been decided; Michael, the greatest of all Dragons, is now dead, with a mere child in his place. And, when all is said and done, you'll both belong to me!"

"H-Huh?" Mikhail might've been young, but even he knows that Five being his master is a bad idea. Besides, he's already got one, thank you very much!

"Heh... if you don't shut up, I'm gonna stab my eardrums with a fork." where she'll get one, she doesn't give one; anything is better than Five's ramblings.

"Well, I suppose I've talked for long enough now. Farewell, Sister. I hope your tongue is enjoyable~"

Her mouth then opened, and she started to sing. Arcs of golden lightning sprouted outwards and, from nothingness, twin chains rapped around Five, encasing her into a cocoon-like structure.

"Behold, The Fifth Song: Grand Light of Antiquity!" the Disciple of Gluttony declared, and from the sides of the Colosseum, water bursted forth.

"The Great Power made manifest... The Ceremony of Glorious Arrival... Burn into thine eyes the Punishing Lance of Divine Retribution! I, Dito, summon thee in my name: Phanuel, Arise!"

From the chains, a figure started to take shape: slowly but surely, a large being took form, ending with large, golden eyes.

"God, and here I thought it would get easier with every reset..." muttered the Original Intoner, readjusting her grip on Mikhail.

Phanuel looked at Zero, and jumped.

Phanuel not only gained more speed, but seemed to be able to jump around like a rabbit on steroids. Plus that with his water cannons, and you're glad the PS3 couldn't handle this.

"DODGE!" Zero roared, the Dragon reacting just in time for Phanuel to fly past him, and launch into the wall surrounding them.

"The weather is horrible today, wouldn't you say?" that was the most normal thing Five had said so far, and she had a point; now, a rainstorm thundered down, which helped Phanuel has he went underwater to recover.

"I'd say; although, I take you enjoy such weather?" you replied and, as Five chuckled, Mikhail yelped as a torrent of water shot past him.

"Oh, you haven't any idea, Llizel! For example, do you know how wonderfully romantic it is to do it under the rain~?"

"No, because I'm not insane." Zero piped in, urging Mikhail to ram Phanuel's side.

"Once again with that talk of your's, Sister... I suppose this is where it ends, though."

With your staff, and the power of... yourself(?), you erected a shield around Mikhail just as a beam of light appeared in front of him.

"Oh, wonderful; she can still use that." unenthusiastic for the first time in a while, Loux's expression told the tale of a man wanting to be literally anywhere else.

The next five minutes were traded attacks, Mikhail ramming into Phanuel when, finally, the crab started to vanish, and dispelled into a golden light.

On the ground, Mikhail stepped back as you and Zero stepped forward, and then over an unconscious Dito. With the golden chains now no longer surrounding her, Five moved to quickly grab her spear, only to be stopped by your hands going up.

"Five, please: stop this. We don't want to fight you."

She paused, and then scoffed. "Taking pity on me, are you?"

"No, numbskull; we came to prevent the world from going to shit." Zero walked forwards, pointing towards the Flower. "Do you know why I have this?"

"...Sex appeal? I must say that it really does wonders for your eyes--"

"Because this... this thing will destroy humanity unless you actually help us get rid of it." Zero then shrugged. "But hey, end of the world sex sounds fun to you, doesn't it?"

"...I admit I have put some thought into it. Still, I suppose you've heard enough jokes, so before I'm stabbed, how could I help you?"

"This would be hard to explain, but do you feel a sort of... sensation in the back of your throat? Sort of like a prickling?" with Loux telling you his knowledge, you felt like you were cheating, but after the sheer hell you just went through, you believe you deserved this.

"...Huh, never felt that before." Five mumbled.

"Right, so that feeling? Try and get it out of you through your mouth."

Five nodded, and started to try. At first, it was small, until it turned to coughing, then gagging, and then finally, vomitting.

During the vomitting, you quickly got behind Five and smacked her back hard, and a small, yellow seed came out, alongside the black smoke of the Flower.

"A Hibiscus," Loux noted. "They represent 'rare and delicate beauty'."

After a moment of deep breaths, Five looked back up, and blinked,. coughing into her hand. "Well, that was the unpleasant I've felt in a while."

"Wow, you can feel uncomfortable? Spare me of such horrors."

"Zero, dear, you should really learn to put that mouth of yours to better use--"

The smoke moved.

"...Eh?" for the first time, Loux showed full confusion.

The smoke traveled through the air... until it launched into Dito, a shockwave knocked you all back.

Looking forward, Dito stood up... and half of his face was consumed with the Flower's influence, his face a vacant smile and eye an incredible cruelty.