Archive of Our Own ^beta

Oh dear…

My love is so lonely…

He’s always so lonely, even now!

Oh, he has me, forever in undeath, but what good is that when I’m stuck on this platform all day?!?

I know! I shall visit him!

But…

But…

Who will keep these three fools company while I’m gone? Helwyn, the dear little pup? Sir Amaru, the vengeful sycophant? Karastus, the…oh dear, he needs some lotion for that sunburn, doesn’t he?

They’ll all be so lonely without me! I can’t have that! I can’t condemn them to my love’s fate - not now!

Let’s see…

Oh, you’ll work. You! Wight! Come and stand here for me!

Yesssssss, you’ll do. Be a dear and point people in the direction of the Necropolis if they ask.

Do it, or I’ll feed you to my husband.

Good boy!

Farewell, you three! I’m off! Oh, but don’t worry, I’ll be back soon!

***

Adrius stood as he always did, crouched on the precipice of the Necropolis, unblinking eyes scanning the battlefield from behind the obsidian mask that concealed them. His bow balanced deftly in his left hand, his right resting on the quiver of arrows at his hip, he occasionally felt a pang of deja vu spark through whatever was left of his mind.

The sight of white stone walls flickering amidst the dark, anima-stained rock.

A four-pointed white star emblazoned on a blue background occasionally replacing the banners depicting that strung-up, faceless, and struggling figure.

Knights in their polished armor, as bright as the sun itself, walking among the shambling wights and clattering skeletons that flitted in and out of the shadows.

Different place.

Different master.

Same job.

Can’t escape it…

Couldn’t escape it…

“Commander.”

Same co-workers, too.

“Yes, Akrisae?” he asked, not bothering to turn around.

“The Chosen. She’s left her post.”

“What?”

He finally stole a glance over his shoulder, and Akrisae, wide, staring eyes the only part of his rotting face visible from underneath his hood, pointed wordlessly back over the battlefield. Adrius’ own eyes followed the motion.

Indeed, a figure that he’d not noticed before was skipping gleefully through an ingression force of Zarosians, paying no mind to their presence, even when the ancient soldiers swung their weapons in her direction.

“She’s left her post.”

“I see that.”

“Should we inform the general?”

Adrius huffed, standing up to his full height.

“No need to bother him with it.” He strode back from the precipice, motioning for Akrisae to follow. “We can take care of this ourselves.”

***

My love’s going to be so happy when he sees what I’ve brought for him!

A fresh wight!

Oh, okay - it’s not as tasty as a mercenary or one of the Cywir, but at least it’s something.

He gets so hungry with his work, after all, and our dear old master sometimes forgets to feed him!

Oh look!

It’s my love’s ingression commander and his happy little battle-priest friend!

Hello, you two!

***

“Hello, you two!”

Adrius and Akrisae met the Chosen on one of the lower wooden ramps leading to the Necropolis and planted their feet, blocking her way. She, however, just smiled and waved, the pervasive undertone of laughter to her voice apparent as she greeted them and dropped the mostly-dead wight soldier at her feet.

“Chosen,” Adrius said, nodding curtly, and she cackled, the sound raucous. He saw Akrisae shiver and take a step back, but barely twitched himself at the sound. Whereas Akrisae was still acclimating to the Sliskean faction’s penchant for breaking out into random bouts of laughter, Adrius was quite used to it.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Adrius - I have a name. Go on, say it!”

“Carol.”

“There you go! Good boy!”

“What’s your business off the platform?”

Carol rolled her eyes at Adrius’ question and twirled a tangled strand of gray-brown hair around her finger.

“It’s always business with you, isn’t it? What if I just want a break? A vacation?”

“We all have our duties, here,” Akrisae piped up. “Yours is to stay on the platform and recruit.”

“Oh, don’t you worry your doomed self, Akrisae, my dear.” Though she smiled and her words were passingly benign, her tone carried a certain venom that pricked at Adrius’ ears. “The platform is well taken care of, and I’m off to see my husband for a little visit! Oh, you two are welcome to come along as well - the more the merrier!”

Adrius was silent for a moment, trying to process what he had just heard.

Husband?

Hm… She must have a lover among the wights or necromancers stationed in the Necropolis.

The thought needled his mind, and he tried to tamp it down before it actually started mocking him and digging up what little feeling he had left buried deep in whatever soul he had left. Not that he needed to, for, in the next moment, Carol had stepped close to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You understand, don’t you?” she asked, voice far less quavering and frantic than it usually was, and he looked away. “I’m not the only one with a spouse in that necropolis, Adrius. If she came by, wouldn’t you want to see her?”

He would.

Though everything within him - memory, thought, and feeling - was now dull and distant, one thing was still brutally clear to him, stabbing at him in the chest not unlike the ice spears that had done him in.

He would like to see her again.

He would like to see her again and not be forced by a set of unseeable strings to level his bow in her direction and loose an arrow at her face.

Looking back at Carol, his vision flickered again, a memory stirring and forcing its way out of the back of his broken, repurposed mind.

Kindly hazel eyes.

A mane of braided, golden brown hair.

Scarred skin that still somehow glowed with life.

A smile that seemed to drive back the shadows themselves.

In an instant, however, they were gone, replaced by the very much undead features of his general’s Chosen.

“Very well,” he said, finally. “Lead the way.” He ignored Akrisae’s hard stare as he waited for Carol to sling the fallen wight back over her shoulder and skip her way up the wooden ramp.

***

Oh, this is going to be so fun! A party, almost!

Hm…

I wonder why Adrius and Akrisae didn’t immediately let me pass when I said who I was going to visit?

Oh, silly me - they must not know yet!

Should I tell them?

Bah, it’s not important - they’ll find out soon enough!

***

Adrius had expected a wight or a necromancer - perhaps even a skeleton - to come running at the sight of the three finally arriving at the Necropolis, if Carol was to be believed that she indeed had a spouse among them.

He had not expected her to pass them all by without a second glance and make a beeline for the rickety bridge that connected the Necropolis to the chambers of…

…General Gregorovic.

“Chosen…Carol?” he asked, catching up to her. “You do know that’s the general quarters, yes?”

“Of course I know that, silly boy!” she chuckled in response, stepping onto the bridge. “Why would you ever doubt me?”

“I doubt he’ll appreciate you abandoning your post to visit your husband,” Akrisae said as he all but materialized at Adrius’ elbow.

“Oh, hush, Akrisae.” She continued across the bridge, and the two wights followed suit, half out of a dulled sense of morbid curiosity, half out of a pressing, externally-generated need to apologize to their general for abandoning their own posts.

Finally, the three of them reached the opposite end of the bridge, coming to a stop in the corner of the cavernous, wall-less, and completely bare - aside from a few masks not unlike the one Adrius wore - room.

“OH, GREGGIE!!!!” Carol called out, voice echoing stridently as she dropped the wight once again. “I’M HOME!!!”

A wild laugh answered her, and a disconcerting bundle of gangly limbs arranged itself into a humanoid shape that stood, swaying wildly, on the other side of the platform. Joints creaked and groaned loud enough for Adrius to hear from where he stood, and the sound was enough to snap him and Akrisae to attention, ready to receive orders from their general.

“AHEHEHEeeee! Carol, my love!!!” Gregorovic, all eight feet of him, loped across the room, steps far more faltering and off-balance than usual. Adrius recognized the symptoms - their master had been starving him, most likely. “You’re here! And, you’ve brought guests!”

Wait…

‘My husband…’

‘Greggie…’

‘Carol, my love..’

Oh…

OH.

“Adrius?”

“Yes, Akrisae?”

“Am I missing something?”

“No, you’re seeing exactly what I am.”

“So…the Chosen. Carol. She’s…”

“…the general’s wife.”

“What an odd couple.”

“Indeed.”

They watched Gregorovic and Carol approach each other, that morbid curiosity still pricking at the back of Adrius’ mind. For a moment, he expected Gregorovic to tear apart and devour his Chosen, just like the mercenaries, prisoners, and adventurers he was fed with on a regular basis.

Instead, to Adrius’ surprise, or the modicum wisps of what could be called surprise that were left in his mind, Gregorovic knelt on the stone and wrapped Carol in a careful yet…loving?…hug, claws normally meant for shearing flesh and wielding those wicked, spinning glaives closing gently around her shoulders and drawing her close. Carol, in response, threw her arms around his neck, returning his hold with a happy squeal.

Wicked laughter and wild giggles rose from the embracing couple before they drew apart, Carol resting a hand on the cheek of Gregorovic’s mask.

“Oh dear, love,” she cooed, running a thumb along the ridge beneath the curved slot that denoted where his eye should’ve been. “You look famished - when was the last time Master fed you?”

“Eheheehehe…too long, too long. The World Guardian. After she…aheeehehehehe…trounced me, Master was so mad. So very, very disappointed. No food since…”

Adrius remembered most of it.

It was three weeks ago, when she - Finley - stormed the Heart, a one woman army bent on…

…why had she come, anyway?

He didn’t know. All he could remember was her screaming his name, loosing an arrow at her, missing, and then…

…she had cornered him. Unmasked him. Yet, she had refused to attack him. He had watched her blaze through the Necropolis after that, disappearing into Gregorovic’s chambers.

The next thing he had remembered was helping Akrisae reattach one of Gregorovic’s legs and patch up a crack in his chestplate that was still visible, even now. If he looked close enough, he could still see the burn marks on the general’s arms and hands as well.

“Well, hunger no longer, my dear,” Carol said, gesturing toward the fallen wight. “I know it’s not a banquet, but…”

“AYAYAYAYAYAYyyyyou brought me FOOD!!!” Gregorovic lightly bumped the mouth of his mask against Carol’s forehead, the Chosen blushing and giggling frantically.

“Not here, love! Your commander’s watching!”

“Oh?” Gregorovic turned his masked ‘face’ toward Adrius and Akrisae, the former seeing a slight sliver of needled teeth peeking out from the corner of the mouth. “Eheheehehe…let him watch. He let his…his WIFE…into my Necropolis, after all.”

“Less talk, Greggie. You need to eat.” Carol tugged on his sleeve, jabbing a finger at the fallen wight again.

“Yessssss…I DO!” With that, the mask’s mouth cracked open in full, the teeth glinting in the hazy air, and a writhing tongue snaked its way out from between them. Adrius felt Akrisae flinch and shudder beside him again as Gregorovic descended upon the fallen wight, tearing it to pieces and gulping them down whole.

Amidst the crunching and slurping, Carol skipped over to Adrius and Akrisae, an unsettling smile splitting her face. Winding her arms around their shoulders, she held them in place, forcing them to watch the meal progress.

“He is a dear, isn’t he?”

Neither of them answered.

***

My love is so lonely.

Always so lonely…

Always so hungry…

I try to help.

But, no matter how many times I visit, I always have to go back to the platform.

And so, after he finished his snack, I did.

He gave us our orders before we left.

Akrisae, he ordered to double his efforts preparing the ingression forces. They need to be stronger, faster, and better bolstered by his stolen prayers.

Adrius, he ordered to return to his post. And, if the World Guardian is to return, he is not to miss his shot.

Me, he ordered to visit more often! Heehee!

Oh, I love my Greggie so much…

I can’t wait to see him again, to hug him again, to hold him again, just like I used to before…

Before the sickness set in.

Oh, hello, Helwyn! Sir Amaru! Karastus! I’m baaaaack!

Did you miss me?

I missed you all!

Perhaps next time I visit my husband, I’ll bring you all along! Oh, he’d be so happy to meet you! Especially you, Helwyn - he so loves the taste of elf.

Oh! Do you hear that?

Do you hear his laughter from the Necropolis?

Isn’t it beautiful?

Isn’t it lovely?

Heeheehee…

No matter how lonely he gets, he always keeps on laughing.

He has me, after all.

He has me, and I have him.

Forever in undeath.