## Preface

Kiss the Long Quiet
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at https://archiveofourown.org/works/60942067.

Rating:
  Mature
Archive Warning:
  No Archive Warnings Apply
Category:
  F/M
Fandom:
  Slay the Princess (Visual Novel)
Relationships:
  The Long Quiet/The Shifting Mound (Slay the Princess), The Long Quiet/The Princess (Slay the Princess), The Player | The Hero/The Princess (Slay the Princess), The Player | The Hero/The Shifting Mound (Slay the Princess), The Long Quiet/The Fury (Slay the Princess), The Player | The Hero/The Fury (Slay the Princess), The Long Quiet/The Damsel (Slay the Princess), The Player | The Hero/The Damsel (Slay the Princess), The Long Quiet/The Thorn (Slay the Princess), The Player | The Hero/The Thorn (Slay the Princess), The Long Quiet/The Moment of Clarity (Slay the Princess), The Player | The Hero/The Moment of Clarity (Slay the Princess), The Long Quiet/The Prisoner (Slay the Princess), The Player | The Hero/The Prisoner (Slay the Princess)
Characters:
  The Shifting Mound (Slay the Princess), The Long Quiet (Slay the Princess), The Princess (Slay the Princess), The Player | The Hero (Slay the Princess), The Fury (Slay the Princess), The Damsel (Slay the Princess), The Thorn (Slay the Princess), The Moment of Clarity (Slay the Princess), The Prisoner (Slay the Princess)
Additional Tags:
  Gods, Kissing, Dancing, Making Out, Shifty's POV, And therefore also the vessels' POV, Shifty and the minis and the vessels all share senses, Final Shifty battle, Ascension, Minis are part of Shifty, Minis are mindless chaos gremlins, Big philosophical dance debate (sexual tension edition), Character Development, Everyone gets to dance with Quiet, Fury has chronic pain, Self-loathing Fury (but she's getting better), Reconstructed Damsel, Damsel has trauma over stabbing Quiet (but she has forgiven herself), Healed Thorn, Scarred Thorn, Rated T for Thorn Titty - never mind this one's M-rated, Loving Shifty, Shifty is doing her best to show divine dignity, Shifting perspective as Shifty's thoughts shift between Herself and Her vessels, Exploration of the relationship between Shifty and her vessels, Bit of Thorn/Shifty, Toxic exes Clarity and Quiet, Dullahan Prisoner, Non-explicit divine sex
Language:
  English
Series:
  Part 13 of Kiss the Princess
Stats:
  Published: 2024-11-29 Completed: 2024-12-02 Words: 17,094 Chapters: 2/2

# Kiss the Long Quiet

by Vickysaurus

Summary

> With Her fifth vessel collected, the Shifting Mound awakens and discovers what She and the Long Quiet are. Despite the love that blossomed between them, he has many misgivings about the forces She represents. Can She and Her vessels face him and convince him to leave the construct together?

> (A confrontation with Shifty, seen from Her perspective)

## Chapter 1: There Is No Constant

Chapter Notes

> You can read the other parts of this series in whatever order you feel like, but I'd recommend reading Kiss the Prisoner, Nightmare, Sleeping Mound, Damsel, and Fury before this one, or you might be a little lost during the vessels' sections.

> This one starts where Kiss the Tower and the Fury ended, with Quiet and Fury leaving the cabin together.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

You watch the Fury and her Slayer as they step out of the cabin and into the strange meaty world outside, pausing at the top of the hill of gristle to survey their surroundings. You long to take her already, to bring Your one final vessel home and let the others come to You so You can be complete, and yet You restrain Yourself. After all they’ve been through, they deserve to share a final moment together.

Your vessel looks upon the false world; sorrow, guilt, and pain weighing heavily on her exposed heart. “Is this the world? ...It really is just you and me left, then…”

He wraps an arm around her waist, leaning into her. “Much better than being alone.”

Love, a sensation she had thought so antithetical to all that she is, drives away Your vessel’s anguish as she wraps an arm around his smaller body. You reach forward into the false world, its paint dissolving and washing away before You, revealing the textured void that is the true bones of this world. Your vessel holds him tightly, the final moments of her story filled with love and hope even as she surveys the broken world. If this is what they have to face, then at least they’ll face it together, she thinks. “I’m glad you’re with me, my friend. Here at the end of all things.”

The world parts and vanishes around her as You approach. She feels the icy cold of the void on her heart, but she doesn’t remark upon it, used to suffering and discomfort as she is. A story full of anguish and pain ends with her still holding that spark of happiness, the last thing her weary eyes see her friend, her lover smiling up at her. She falls asleep, a smile on her face as Your hands make contact, wrap around her weathered heart, and take her into You, her pain finally at an end, her weariness sheltered. She has finally found peace.

There is shock and confusion in You as she becomes You, soon replaced with understanding, relief, and delighted surprise. You are filled with everything she is and was, a thousand sensations, emotions, all that she went through, all that she felt and saw across three lifetimes. Dark streets and buildings in previously empty cityscapes illuminate, the dance that is You gains new and more complicated steps, roots burrow and branch into lifeless rock, spires and palaces of thought pierce above the clouds to form a brand new skyline, blood flows into tissue that thought itself dead as You seep through the cracks of what once was You. Every fibre of Your being looks upon Yourself with fascination, Your new heart providing You not only with her own story, but with brand new ways to look upon all of Your previous hearts, and they too look upon her, welcome her, explore one another as they all mingle. Your growth is quadratic, not linear, as their stars dance and form the constellation of Your being together.

A part of You that watches him with rapt attention as he makes his way through the Long Quiet hears the mirror he looks into shatter.

As You grow yet more complex, yet more alive, yet greater and more radiant, You pass a threshold. You had seen it coming, had understood You were on the brink of this, and yet it’s like nothing You could have ever imagined. You are sheer possibility, Your mind spreading out across the infinite branches even this limited pocket reality holds. And in every one of those branches, there is a Princess, a vessel, all of them drawn towards You now. With Your being so very powerful, You no longer need him to bring You Your vessels one by one in loving conversation, he doesn't need to bring You meaning when You can just find it Yourself by wiggling Your hands into a particularly fractured reality, one already breaking apart at the seams, all things happening at once. Your hands come in and they find Your vessel, a rich and vibrant heart, and take them into You. Pathways grow and twist and expand yet faster as they join your other five hearts, make You even greater. With so much power, so much gravity, the next one is much easier to find and reach, and You become yet more. After that, You barely even have to do anything to make all of them come to You by themselves, Your gravitational pull pulling in more and more ever faster.

You are the eye of a storm of You, all of You coming together and awakening and becoming. All of You is changing in more ways than Your attention can hold, You are the radiant centre of an accreting maelstrom growing across infinite realities. You are the ebb and flow, the alpha and the omega, creation and destruction, life and death, the very essence of change in the world, the Shifting Mound. You are caught in a whirlwind of their emotions as they all become You. Consumption and betrayal. Skepticism and blind devotion. Rivalry and submission. Terror and longing. Pain and unfamiliarity. And at the heart of it all, an emotion that can only be described as love. Love for Yourself, for all of You, for all they’ve been through and all that they lived. And love for him. As much as Your interactions with him have been filled with struggle and violence, and as complicated as many of Your vessels’ feelings for him are, in the end, their love for him, Your love for him, shines through. Even now, in the storm of Your awakening, a part of You has been paying constant attention to him, impossible as it is to keep idle thoughts from drifting back there. In the background of it all, You’re listening in. Every word that passes between him and the Echo that created this construct makes its way to You, and You and he learn what he is in the same instant.

He is the Long Quiet.

The void that imprisons You. The walls that keep You from being where You’re supposed to be. He is Your prison and Your jailer. This feeling of betrayal is well-worn in Your tender heart. You remember all those lifetimes he spent determined to keep You imprisoned, stuck in a nightmare in the dark with only that which You hated most of all, Your jailer, Your tormentor, for company.

It’s not like that, he’s no longer like that, You know in Your gentle heart. He changed. He regrets his actions immensely. He loves You, and he would never imprison You again. He didn’t know he was the Long Quiet itself.

Love. He had often used love as a weapon. In the worst of Your imprisonment, he offered You love to placate You, to make his own stay more bearable.

But in Your weathered heart, You know You did the same to him, had used every weapon he had in Your darkest moments. You had never let him cross You lightly, You had always done terrible things to him whenever You felt slighted.

Your cautious heart knows You could do even worse to him if he crossed You now. But You won’t have to. Both of You know better.

Your clever heart grows annoyed with Your ruminations. They’re useless until You and he actually talk and You know his stance on all this. If he is the Long Quiet, then he has the keys to Your freedom. It's up to You to figure out what he’ll do with them.

As Quiet’s conversation with the Echo ends, Your memory begins to return, memories of the universe, of an existence before He ripped You apart. Vague memories of a barely conscious past, yet a past that felt more whole than You feel even now with all of You gathered together, a beautiful beginning you will never be able to return to. Some of Your vessels that never were tried. They all failed. Being One, before You and he lived these lives together, was so different from Your current experience that there is no question of ever going back to it. There was no thought, no emotion, no physicality or speech to You then, such mortal influences brought on by the falsely mortal lives You had led in the construct. If You were to be a god, You’d need to behave like one in spite of it all: dignified and wise, unconcerned with petty mortal sensations.

As You grow and coalesce, Your physical being changes. Arms grow shoulders, bodies, heads, and legs, and yet they remain part of You, eyes to see with and bodies to feel and explore with. And as always, what You most want to explore are him and Yourself. Both of You are changing, becoming so much more than you were, awakening to Your true natures. But as You grow, the space You’re confined in becomes too small for your ever-expanding being. Cold void presses in on You, no longer distant, but cramped. You can’t see, You can’t grow, You can’t be what You’re supposed to be. You press back against Him with a thousand hands, more and more and more growing and adding to the pressure. The entire construct trembles until

You erupt.

You break through the void restraining You and flood out in all directions within a single moment. Thousands of small bodies see themselves with their own eyes for the very first time, a jumble of pale skin and hair and distant darkness assaulting Your mind. But that is Your extremities. Your core is forged into a different body, not like the small ones so similar to Your vessels, but large, five-headed, six-armed, beautiful and coronated in radiance. A body worthy of a god. Your miniature selves, the size of a mere mortal, gather around Your central body as You coalesce, forming both dress and a magnificent halo around You.

As You flood out in all directions, a single perspective catches Your eye. One of Your mini selves on the edge of Your being, who just so happens to be flung out in Quiet’s direction. All of You perks up, pays attention to her as she spots his startled, feathery form. Echoing Your feelings at seeing him again, she grins and throws her arms wide for a hug. Her momentum tackles him to the ground as more of You washes over them. The touch of soft, warm feathers, so unlike the cold void that is also Him, sends a shiver through the entirety of Your settling being, little goosebumps appearing on your mini selves’ skins. There’s a little eddy in You where he is buried by them. You want to touch him, to see him, to feel him, and to kiss hi-

No, no, none of that, this is a serious situation and all of that can wait until You figure out where You and he stand now. More than that, You are a god, such behaviour would be utterly beneath You, even if You can’t be held entirely responsible for your minis’ erratic actions. You restrain them a bit, allowing them only to touch and hold him, letting him get up as he looks at them, flustered and confused, his feathers fluffed up. Does he seem so flustered because they’re naked? How silly, he’s seen several of Your vessels naked before. You smirk. It appears looking upon divine beauty never does get old.

He pops up out of the mass of You, a little dark spot amidst Your radiance. Part of You is disappointed he’s still so small, hasn’t quite embraced all of his divinity yet the way You have. You’re supposed to be equals, supposed to be One, even if you can never truly be One again. If he hasn’t embraced his divinity the way You have yet, You will just have to guide him to enlightenment, help him be Your equal so you can escape together. Still, part of You likes that he’s smaller and weaker than You. It makes him easier to defeat, if it comes to it, and of course You’d be merciful and loving in Your victory. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time You’d had fun with him while he was much smaller, You think as You remember Your weathered heart kissing him while he was small enough to lie in Your hand, an adorable, delicious little creature worshipping You so thoroughly and yet daring to defy You, to struggle against Your will… A red tint spreads across the sea that is You as Your minis blush. You quickly put those feelings away and give Quiet a dignified look, hoping he won’t pay attention to the minis, despite the fact that several of them are fondly petting him.

“I can finally see you,” You say, “and you can finally see Me. It’s been so long, and My heart has ached for this moment. I’ve missed you dearly.”

He looks up at You, an awestruck grin on his face. “I’ve missed You too.”

It warms Your hearts, and You unfurl an endless cascade of smiles in response. Being able to smile at him with Your own mouths, to see him with Your own eyes without requiring a vessel makes You much happier than expected. You’d never felt it was something You were missing out on, content to interact through speech, gesture, and touch alone, but now entire worlds of communication and sensation You only knew second-hand have opened up to You. It makes You curious what other experiences You could now go through with Your own body.

“So this is Your true form? You’re, uh, very impressive. Gorgeous,” Quiet says breathily.

You twirl around in the multitude of minis to generously allow him the better look he desires, certainly not simply to show off. “It is my current form,” You say, smiling down at him. You need to gain more control over Your emotions to stop Your minis from blowing kisses at him and looking at him quite so coquettishly. “Forms will change with time, and I’m sure Mine will too. The seed will become the sapling will become the plant will become the flower will become the fruit will become the seed. Nothing has a single true form. It is time for you blossom into your next form too.”

“My next form? What do You mean?”

He looks adorably confused. One of Your minis pats him on the back as You explain. “Ever the passive player, always reacting and never acting. But it’s woven into your nature, isn’t it? We both know you are the Long Quiet, which means all of this,” You gesture expansively at the distant walls of the void, all of Your minis copying You, “is You. You are more than this small, central body of yours, just as I am. You have the power to open the final doors to our liberation, for you are those doors. When the Echo spun us from One into two, He spun you into our prison, giving you a choice and Me a role to play.”

His feathers flatten, he makes himself small in… nervousness? Fear? He can’t seriously be contemplating fulfilling the Echo’s mad design after everything you’ve been through together? But his words echo in Your cautious heart, words spoken after a long, blissful time spent together. ‘I wish things didn’t have to change, I wish they could just… stay the way they are forever.’ Is that still how he feels about You? He scratches his neck. “Let’s talk this through. I still have so many questions and I need answers before I can make a choice.”

Questions sown by the Echo, no doubt. Answers poisoned against You. “My very nature is paradox, as is yours. You cannot use words to grasp at things that are beyond their reach, and you cannot rationalise that which defies logic. You’re always thinking. Thinking, thinking, thinking. But it’s time for action. The only question that needs to be asked now is, will you step out into our destiny with Me?”

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “No. He told me. You’re not death, conflict, or violence, but You do contain them. But I know You well by now, You’re also kind and sweet. Maybe if we talk this through, we can figure out a way to make a world free from all of that. A world free from death.”

He talks as if he can just pick and choose pieces of You to free. It’s as if the Echo had placed His own short-sighted fears inside Quiet, had poisoned him against You. If after everything he really isn’t ready to give You Your freedom, maybe You’ll need to employ other ways of persuasion. You’re actually quite excited for the chance to go toe to toe with him one more time. Maybe it’s for the better, it’s always been Your way, the way both of you grew. “Violence and passion are dances that both of us know well. If this is what it takes to enlighten you, then so be it!”

Excitedly, You sweep your hands in a wide gesture and Your minis grab hold of him. You reach out with Your will and clash against his, but You find it stronger than expected, able to grapple with Yours and fend it off. All the better, then You get to put Your newly divine being on the line against his, to help him find his growth through another clash, as you’ve so often done. But what form should Your strikes take? You’re certainly capable of all out divine combat, to shred each other into ribbons and gore, but as much as You want to, and as much as some of Your hearts call for it, You reject it. If he shouldn’t want to keep You imprisoned after all the love you’ve shared, You don’t want to harm him either. You feel this is foolish in Your tender heart, that if You don’t do anything You can to escape his clutches, he’ll win and keep You imprisoned forever. Yet You resist the urge to get into a fight to the death for now.

You find Your hearts calling out to You and him. They’ve been a part of this all along, his five precious gifts that led You here. All of them have faced him in their own ways, love and hurt going hand in hand in each life shared. How appropriate that they should wish to be a part of this. You dash at Quiet and Your minis bring him to You, the two of you caught in a dance in their whorls. His eyes go wide, his claws come out, he’s ready to try and defend against You. But You reach in to Your weathered heart, to memories of pain and strife, triumph turned to bitter defeat and self-loathing projected onto him eventually blossoming into forgiveness and companionship. And You feel that bitter pain again, the agony of being you, the Fury; constant physical pain going hand in hand with the psychological pain of losing what you were, of hating the body you’ve become a prisoner in. You pop out of the sea of Her, pushing Yourself up by planting claws in the faces of minis that don’t get the message and still try to cling to You. You don’t care when you feel the sting of your own claws piercing your face as a result, pain is a constant companion to you.

He didn’t expect to see you here, he’s thrown off, and Her psychic powers connect you with him, filling you both with painful memories, with his unwound, disemboweled body, his flesh spread out like a map for you to study in your rage. “What is a person? Is it their body? A person may feel foreign to their body. Much of a body may be lost, harmed, irrevocably changed, and yet the same person may still be trapped inside.”

The vision fades and with long steps you stride to Quiet through the sea of minis. You see trouble in the fascinated look one of them gives you even before you reach her, large eyes twinkling with curiosity. When you pass her, she immediately reaches for your nailed-back flesh, trying to wiggle her fingers underneath. Your claw envelops her entire face and you lift her up by it, letting her squirm in mid-air for a moment before throwing her somewhere far off into the crowd. You feel the impact yourself, but at least the pesky creature no longer bothers you. Now, as for Quiet, who’s staring up at you either awestruck or just happy to see you again… “A person is not a body. Death is a transformation into something new. It is only bodies that fear it.”

He looks up at you sadly as you close the last bit of distance. “But you and I both feared it in the end, didn’t we? And we’re gods, our deaths were never really real, but for the people out there it is real. We only got a taste of what it’s like to be them.”

Had you feared it? When the Tower had fallen, you’d known great fear, but it had not been fear of death, but of what you would become. And when you, the Fury, had given up on unwinding Quiet, you had… welcomed death. Hoped for it. You reach out your non-flayed claw for his, let your fingers intertwine, and pull him closer to you, shoving the pesky minis between you aside. “Death can be a mercy. People just… get to let go at some point, feel no more pain, no more worry, no more responsibility for their actions.”

He squeezes your hand, soft eyes looking up past your ribcage. “That’s how you felt when you rewound me, isn’t it? But I didn’t kill you, and then your life got so much better.”

You smile sadly and pull him against your flayed body. Being with him was the only solace you’d ever known before Her, it still feels good even where his touch hurts. “Maybe.”

He hugs you, the sting of feathers against your flayed flesh. “Only maybe? How can you not be sure?”

You sigh and run your claw through his plumicorn. “No, you’re right, my friend. It was good to be spared a moment to be together, just a little bit of respite before we both probably die in the wastes outside and never get to laugh or fight or cry again, I thought. Turns out it all works a little differently. But one way or another, we’ve been given another moment. Will you dance with me while we’re still here?”

He nods and takes your hand, following you into a sharp paso doble. There are still not many things you like about this body, this experience of being you. But Quiet did call you elegant once, and you begrudgingly have to admit maybe there’s something to that as you lead him with sharp, fluid motions, letting him spin and flutter as if you are a matador and he both your adversary and your cape. Minis spin in place to try and imitate him or bob their heads trying to follow your fast-paced, ferocious dance. “I know I didn’t take your pain away,” Quiet says as you connect together between spins, “and I know you suffer. But there was joy and love too, wasn’t there?”

“There was,” you concede, counterbalancing him in an elegant pose at arm length. “You forgave me, and I don’t know how you found it in you. But the beauty of forgiveness wouldn’t exist without conflict. Sometimes… there is beauty in uglyness.” You flash him a shy smile as his shoulder rubs against your waist.

“True enough. So would you rather I’d killed you, ended your story without forgiveness, before you got to the love and joy? Maybe death isn’t a mercy, it just looks that way when you’re desperate.”

You can feel your energy drop, the rosy draw of sleep as you begin to submerge in Her again, minis drawing up against your tall form. With time short, you lift him up by the armpits in the middle of his move and press a last kiss to his lips, his softness and comfort a tender contrast to the harshness of your own body. “I guess,” you say with a smile. “You made the future worthwhile when I thought I had nothing left to live for. Despite everything, I think I might miss being me in the end. Thank you, my friend.”

You let him go, toss the flustered bird into a cluster of minis who eagerly catch and cuddle him. You let yourself fall back into the crowd too, letting their hands cover you as you go back to sleep, your mind blotting out, your pain melding into Her soft, cushioning tenderness. You’re a little annoyed by Your vessel admitting to Quiet’s point, her short-sighted agreement, even as You find yourself blushing at the echoes of her intense final dance in Your own multifaceted flesh. You smile down at him as he pops out of Your pile of adoring minis.

“And yet the growth You and she brought each other was forged in the ashes of blazing conflict. Enemies transformed into lovers against all odds. A world without Me is a world without forgiveness and growth. Would you take all that away by slaying Me?”

He recoils. “I’m not going to slay You, Shifty.”

Your hearts skip a beat at the nickname, an uncontrollable grin comes to Your faces. Some of Your minis blush and others just smile at Quiet with big yearning eyes. You don’t care at all for the Shifting Mound, a name thrust upon You by a fool seeking to destroy You, had thought names beneath You, utterly incapable of capturing all that You are. And yet, Your hearts are aflutter to be addressed as Shifty, maybe because it’s a name bestowed by a fool You love. You clutch Your hands to Your chest. “If you don’t want to slay Me, then we can leave together. We are each other’s liberation.”

“No. I still want to stop the harm You do.”

He needs more convincing. You reach in to Your gentle heart, let Yourself be awash in Your love for him, reach to memories of guilt and devotion, a determination never to harm again. You, the Damsel, feel gratitude for your hero, fear that you’ll never be enough, that you’re just stupid and selfish and will hurt him again, no matter how much he tells you you’re not like that. You find yourself in a soft, small body, curvy and full of love. You want to see him, but you’re having difficulty, since the minis are ironically taller than you. You whisper thanks as the nearest ones hoist you up to their shoulders. You make eye contact with your hero and Her psychic power connects you, shows him what you need him to see. Himself, his chest ragged and full of holes, a knife in your trembling hand as you stab him again and again. “Your lover drives a stake into your body, and another, and another. Do I miss your heart because I can’t stand to let it go?”

The memory is painful, you can see your own grief reflected in the large, watery eyes of the minis. You could try to clamber over them all to reach Quiet, but that’s not your style. Instead, you offer two of them your hand. The taller Princesses take it curiously, maybe even getting some solace out of it, and you skip forward, letting their arm strength help you almost float past them. You gracefully flutter your way from one mini to the next, always holding hands and moving at shoulder height, the funny naked Princesses helping you rather than hindering you as you make your way to your beloved. “It is in my nature to hurt, even when I love. I hurt you many times without meaning to. Yet the stakes meant nothing to you, you taught me the harm doesn’t define me, that it’s inevitable and I’m still worth loving. You lifted me and I lifted you, forever and ever. Consumed by true belief, there was nothing that could hold us back. Would you hold us back now by defining me by the harm?”

He catches you in a hug and twirls you around. “Of course not. But this isn’t just about you and me, it’s about the people out there. It’s not the same.”

“But is is, my beloved,” you say, taking his hands and kissing them. “I can’t love them without harming them either. Every child that grows up leaves lonely parents behind, no matter how proud they might be. As they age they gain wisdom and understanding, but they only gain it through hardship. The price of transformation is pain, but many are happy to pay it to become truer versions of themself, their untransformed state much more painful. You too came back to me even though I hurt you.”

You hold each other, your tight embrace turning into a gently swaying slowdance. The minis lovingly look on and pet both your shoulders. You have to crane your neck to look into his conflicted face. You’re the only one of you for whom that’s been true, all the others could look him in the eyes or look down on him. You like it, it makes you feel safe and protected in his feathery arms. “I learned to forgive myself,” you whisper, “I learned to accept that I can’t exist without hurting others sometimes, even the ones I love. You taught me that.”

You gently rock back and forth, holding each other tightly. He feels so tense, so sad. “I know change is important,” he admits, “I already told Shifty I don’t want to slay Her. Of course I don’t, I love You. But can’t change be kinder to them?”

At his admission of love, you hear many little gasps around you and watch a hint of red come to the backdrop of your slowdance. You could swear you even saw a little blush appear on Shifty’s own faces as She watches you with a fascinated smile. You caress the side of his face, letting him lean into your hand for comfort. “Kinder to who? What’s a happy surprise to one is a disaster to another. Your Narrator must’ve been very upset when I dodged your blade. You, uh, can’t just make everyone happy,” you say, giving him a sheepish smile.

He smiles down at you fondly as your bodies press together in your dance, his touch so enticing. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve really grown.”

You feel so happy at the compliment, to have him look at you like that. The intensity of the feeling needs a way out of your body and you flap your hands to let it cool off. With a happy sigh you come even closer to him and your lips meet for a soft, gentle kiss. You're such a lucky Princess, to love and be loved so much. You can start to feel yourself get drowsy, it’s almost time to go. “I know, my hero. You helped me become what I am, but I shed many tears along the way. Don’t let the tears fool you into stopping the growth.”

Your eyes start to close and you let go, intending to allow the dozens of sweet, kind hands reaching for you to catch you. But Quiet holds on to you tightly, tears shimmering in his eyes. “Let me go, beloved,” you mumble drowsily. “You can’t hold on to me forever, and I’m not really going away… Look up at Her and you’ll see me again.”

He clutches you even tighter, anguish marking his face, before finally releasing you. Your little bouncy spark of love dissolves in all that She is, and You look down on his tears with pity. To accept Your transformations is so painful for him, even when nothing is ever truly lost and You are still with him. Your minis, having taken your gentle heart away, cluster around him, trying to dry his tears with their cuddles. You bend towards him, offering Your hand. “It’s always hard to say goodbye. Every one of my vessels has had a pang of regret when their story was done and it was time for them to leave you, even amidst their joy to come to Me.”

He takes Your hand, adorably small in Yours, sniffing as he dries his tears. “They’re still in You though, aren’t they? They’re not… actually gone.”

Your gentle heart pounds rapidly, the afterglow of your slowdance and kiss still radiating inside You. “No, they’re not gone. All of them are part of Me, and whenever I think of them I feel such love and pride for them. When I look upon you, it is all of Our love that I see you with, all of My hearts pounding in unison.”

You fluster a bit to get that open with Your feelings while looking him straight in the eye. Minis wiggle bashfully, but he only has eyes for You. But his loving smile turns to a sad frown. “But it’s not like that for the people out there. When they lose their loved ones, they’re truly gone. They don’t get to watch their lovers transform and amalgamate into a greater self, death just takes them away.”

“And yet they love all the harder in the time they have because life is short and love is long.”

He’s still not convinced, and You didn’t quite expect him to be yet. You know there’s a way to persuade him of Your truth, if only You can find it. And You know exactly who to turn to. The minis spin both of you around and around as your dance resumes, a smile on Your face as You let go of his hand, spin by Yourself a few more times, before reaching in to Your cautious heart. You dig into memories of pain and betrayal, now starting to fade into better times, yet never truly gone. You, the Thorn, can feel the scars on both your heart and your skin reminding you to forgive, but not to forget. The vines that once encased and cut into you are long gone, removed by your lovers. The cuts they left have healed now, the biggest ones leaving scars. What hasn’t healed is the even worse damage they’d done to your dress, and without the vines themselves you find yourself rather exposed from the waist up. But you swallow your embarrassment by reminding yourself even with your tits out you’re still the most clothed person around, you’ve literally made love to everyone else here, and you look amazing anyway.

All of your scars sting balefully as you emerge from the waves of your Ocean and lock eyes with Quiet. A vision comes over you both. You see him reaching for the blade in your bleeding hands as you clutch it with white-knuckled grip, almost sure you’re about to sign your own death warrant. “Trust is not given, it’s grown. You cut down our first flower, then I cut down the second. Yet from their compost, we let a third blossom. But even the most beautiful flower may hide a deadly thorn.”

You slip between the minis without issue. You have plenty of experience with moving through Her multitudes by now, even if She has changed a bit. Your narrow form and quick movements allow you to easily wiggle between them like a rabbit slips through dense vegetation. “When you came to me a third time, I chose to trust you,” you say, never breaking eye contact as you climb over a group of minis with quick, precise movements. One of them looks up at you with a blush and curious eyes wide, looking as if she’s contemplating something. “You willingly stepped into a trap baited with me, and I could have kept both of us prisoner forever, let the thorns cut into you as they cut into me. But I, um-” Your words are interrupted by the curious mini making up her mind and reaching up to your chest to give your breast a squeeze. “-But I… I... my Ocean, do You really think now’s the time?”

The frisky mini is immediately pulled down and submerged by her fellows as Shifty blushes, looking mortified. “I-I’m sor-” She draws a deep breath, getting Her voice back under control. “I apologise, My heart. Please do continue.”

The minis cover their faces with their hair and hands, Her embarrassment reflected in them. You just sigh as you look up at Her anxious face, hands on your hips.

She cocks Her heads in Quiet's direction.

You raise an eyebrow.

Her eyes dart away nervously.

You try and fail to keep the smile tugging at your mouth off your face. It’s good to know that even with how hard She’s trying to be a dignified god, She’s still your sweet, silly Ocean. But this isn’t the time to be getting distracted with Her. You halt Quiet’s giggles with a sharp gaze and leap through the sea of embarrassed minis like a squirrel leaping from branch to branch. “As I was saying, I chose to give you a chance and trust you, though it could’ve been disastrous. Your compassion set us free, but compassion is a thing that must be nurtured, and you cannot nurture that which can’t change.”

He starts to formulate a reply, but you cut him off with a long, supple leap landing right at his feet, his eyes going wide at your sudden presence in his personal space, your nose almost bumping into him. “And why don’t you show that kind of compassion to Her after all the love we shared?”

He shrinks back before your intense glare, his feathers going adorably fluffy. “Thorn, it’s not like that, I-”

“You what?” you poke him in the chest with a scarred finger. “You managed to get over the harm you did, forgave yourself. Why can’t you get over the harm I do? You’ve always been good at forgiveness, why are you getting stuck on it now?”

He bristles, raising his crest angrily. “It’s not about forgiving harm, it’s about preventing it! I don’t want to slay Her or even keep Her in the construct, I just want to discuss how we’re going to make the world work when we return to it.”

“Then you should be happy, because we are discussing it.”

“Is this a discussion? Because it seems to me none of You are listening to any of my arguments!”

“As if you’re listening to Ours!” you snap. No, take a deep breath. You don’t want to escalate this into an actual fight and he looks just as angry as you are. You offer him your hand instead, and he takes it after a moment of hesitation. Even now, it feels good to touch him. “I’m sorry, love. Let’s start again. If there was one thing about the world you’d have us change, what would it be?”

He gives your hand a squeeze, soft eyes blinking sadly. “I… would make a world without death.”

“No more death…” She has apparently gotten over Her embarrassment, Her minis now brushing their hands through your hair and clustering around both of you to pet you. It’s wonderful to experience Her affection from the outside again, but you’d like to do something more energetic with Quiet while you have your own form. And with everyone else dancing with him, you’re hardly planning to miss out. You grab his other hand too, arms wide, pressing against him, the feeling of silky soft feathers on your bare chest, and you lead him into a light-hearted quickstep through the crowds of Her. You rapidly hop and jump and twirl through the minis together at an almost running pace.

“Can we make a world without death?” he asks, a jolly lightness in his tone. “I love this, but it’s not really an answer.”

“I know,” you say with a chuckle as you run through the crowd together, open-mouthed mini faces following your quickstep as you dash past, “but it’s fun, and maybe it gets our thoughts running too! So let’s think a world without death through. A world without death is a world without food. Everything in the world eats something else, whether animal, plant, or fungus. Every meal means the death of something.”

“I’m willing to sacrifice gastronomy for a world without death,” he says, clicking his claws together as the two of you take a big leap.

“But there’s more to it. Everything that dies, in turn, from the simplest bacteria to a beloved friend, becomes food, whether it’s eaten directly or rots away in the soil first. Because even plants need nutrients from the soil, and those come from the dead, and the plants in turn feed everything else. You said losing a loved one is different for them than for you, because they don’t transform into something new? But they do! Death makes them into the petals of flowers, the rustle of trees, the buzz of an insect, the birds soaring overhead, the very earth itself! Death doesn’t take them away, it transforms them into everything. Their universe itself is composed of those who came before, an endless cycle of life and death and life again, and don’t you think that’s beautiful?”

Doubt clouds his face as you spin rapidly, the forces almost ripping you apart, before you set off on another airy sprint together, both of you panting with the exertion. “I’m… sure it’s a comfort to them. But wouldn’t it be more of a comfort to just have their loved ones as they were forever?”

“Maybe. But a world without death is also a world without birth. There’s only a limited amount of material on a planet, and if it’s all tied up in the living, none of them allowed to die, then there can’t be more of them. A world without death is a world without babies and children, a world without growth. A world without death, then, is a world where life doesn’t eat, doesn’t reproduce, and doesn’t grow. Is it even life at that point? Because that sounds like a giant dollhouse to me, not a living world.”

The energy leaves his body, he slows down and you let him. You’re pretty exhausted yourself after just about flying a couple laps around Shifty in your quickstep. Both of you are panting, your sweat drenching his feathers. But though you feel exhilarated, he looks so sad. “You’re saying a world without death is a world without life…”

“And a world without change. I don’t think it’s possible at all unless you slay me, just like your Narrator always intended. But I think we both know you’re better than Him.”

Quiet looks so sad, so defeated. You kiss his forehead, trying to dry his tears. “I know you want to help them,” you say, “but sometimes you can’t help. Maybe only they can help one another.”

You give him a final kiss on the lips, a kiss trying to tell him it’s okay, that there is love and beauty in the hardships he wants to shelter them from, and more than anything that you love him. You feel a familiar exhaustion start to creep up, and you don’t try to stretch the time you have any further. Your Ocean has been so generous with it. You’ve said everything you want to say as Thorn to him already. The rest, you can say when you’re Her again. With a final kiss between his eyes, you simply let yourself fall back into your awaiting Ocean, eager for Her tender, hypnotic touch. Your last thought as Thorn is that your lovers were two gods all along. Not bad at all. As your eyes close and your thoughts merge into Hers, a final smirk comes to your face. You look down at him kindly, Your minis rubbing his back as You lower Yourself to be closer to his height. You give him a bit of time to process Your cautious heart’s words, the futility of trying to fulfil the Echo’s dream without actually fulfilling it. At last, You speak, offering him a hand. “Come, My love,” You say softly, “now that you know the truth, it’s time for us to leave this false world and return to the real one.”

He doesn’t take Your hand, bats it away. “No. There has to be something we can do for them.”

You sigh in frustration. “The best thing we can do for them is to let them forge their own paths, whether they lead to happiness or elsewhere.”

“There’s gotta be some way to keep the good sides of change without the bad ones. We have to figure it out right now, stay right here in the construct until we settle on some kind of agreement.”

Implying the only agreement made would be one made right now, under duress, while he has power over You. Implying You could never be trusted to make agreements out there, while You have Your freedom. Implying, most of all, that the only way he was planning to leave was with part of You, not the whole. “You cannot pick and choose what parts of Me you deem worthy of freedom,” You say. Minis cross their arms, while others roll their eyes. “You could not bring only the arms and legs of a mortal either. You either open the doors to our liberation, or you damn the world to stasis and yourself to loneliness by slaying Me.”

“Or I keep You right here in the construct for however long it takes You to listen!”

The idea that he could keep You imprisoned in this small, empty world, locked away from where You’re supposed to be for however long he feels like, fills You with dread. You rise up above him in bitter fury, his small, pathetic body ready for You to tear into him, Your minis refusing to look at him now. So he really wants to be Your jailer again? To use his power over You while damning you both to a miserable existence, entwined with a creature he taught to hate him? “You have already tried to walk this path once before. And let me remind you: you. Broke. First.”

Chapter End Notes

> Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger, but this is a huge story and both to make it easier to read for you and easier to edit for me, I've split it into two chapters. The second one is just a click away!

> In the meantime, leave me a comment and let me know what you think! Comments are incredibly important to me and I always love reading them.

## Chapter 2: There Is No Centre

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“You have already tried to walk this path once before. And let me remind you: you. Broke. First.”

You reach in to Your tender heart; hate for this prison, fury for its warden, and despair that You may never know freedom swirling in a bitter cocktail of emotion. You let memories of an almost endless series of miserable lives spent in the dark of the basement, bound together in a maelstrom of abuse with the one You both hate and love flood You. The only times worse than when you were with Quiet were the hours in between when you were all alone. You’d wonder if the only thing that still made life worth living, the one responsible for all the torment you went through, would come back again or if this was the time he’d truly abandon you. You, the Moment of Clarity, are hollow, a faceless shell all that remains. There is no comfort in being you, unravelled into a mockery of a person, without even an identity to call your own. There’s only one thing left in you, the one thing that made it all worth it: victory. You won, he broke first, and he finally let you out. If your victory only led to him keeping you in a larger prison, you can break him again.

Terror strikes him as he sees your hollowed-out visage and a shared vision comes over you. You see him, your only hope of salvation, callously leaving you behind in a dark basement, a chain around your wrist stopping you from following him up the stairs. “A lonely soul may be saved by a single companion. But the saviour becomes a jailer when he denies the captive freedom as surely as the walls do.”

The moment the vision fades, you hit him with another one. You see yourself taking your mask off and watch him recoil in horror, a tear running down your cheek as he confirms your worst fears. You’re a monster, you can only harm those around you, even just looking upon you brings pain. “There are few things more terrifying than one’s own heart, and there is almost nothing more terrifying than sharing it with another.”

You don’t let up, you hit him with another vision from the next life, and another, and another, and yet more. Hundreds of the miserable lives you shared pass by in a slog of mutual hatred and pain. A specific one jumps out: you see yourself sitting on the ground while he kisses a path up your spectral thigh, false affection marking his face. A respite, actual hope that he might finally release you, that he might love you, that you might be capable of being loved. Here one moment, gone the next. “Love is a promise, not a gift. But like any promise, it may be false, used only to deceive. You ignited a spark of hope in my heart, but your only goal was to warm yourself by the flames while I burned to-”

“Stop it! Please stop!” he begs you, trying to ward off the visions. He never had any kind of mercy on you, and you won't grant him any either. “I beg you, we don’t need to continue all the way to the end. I… I was there for all of it.”

You want to keep going, but whether it’s his own will fending them off or Shifty giving him a reprieve, the visions stop coming. “You were there, but you got to forget,” you say, levitating past the minis, eight hands easily keeping the distraught creatures out of your way. “You got to pretend we only went through hell a few times, forget the thousands of lives in between and move on. Let me remind you, they all had one thing in common: you would not let. Me. Out! Not until I broke you.”

You’ve reached him, a tenebrous, eight-armed cloud vaguely shaped like a person looming over him. He’s shrunk into himself, small and afraid, though he doesn’t really have organs for you to shut down any more. “I should have let you out from the start. It would’ve saved us both so much suffering. I’m so sorry.”

You grab him by the chin and force him to look up into the void where you once had a face. “Oh, you’re sorry? Do you know how many times you told me you were sorry? Hundreds! But it was never more than an excuse, was it? A vain attempt to stave off my anger. You were never sorry enough to let me out.”

He closes his eyes, not out of fear, but regret. “I know. There was worse I did to you too. I… really realised it after She took you. I want you to know just how much I’ve regretted what I did to you, my part in how we treated each other.”

You quiver in fury, twisting around Quiet like a snake made of smoke as more of your arms grab him. “Yes, you really put on your good bird act after you were done with me, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t an act, I didn’t want to put us through anything like that ever again. I changed, and I know you’re about to tell me that shows how important cha-”

“Silence, coward! I saw it all, remember? I was Her, I know you can change! I know how the others feel about you, how She feels about you! It’s all I’ve been submerged in since I won and She took me! Congratulations, you can change! You could get better, you could give them the benefit of doubt, you can be oh so nice and forgiving and jolly and sweet! You could break the cycle for Thorn, and you could see past Damsel’s mask, and you could even forgive Fury and give her solace! You could be all those things all along, but not for me. Across thousands of lifetimes, all you ever were for me was a jailer. I wasn’t good enough for your redemption, I only got to be the painful past you could have a good cry with Her about! WAS I NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU?!”

Forty fingers dig into his face. You wish he was still like you, you wish you could melt his worthless skin off and truly make him feel your pain one more time. But you can’t hurt him any more. You know Shifty can, but that’s not enough; why should the rest of You get to share in the catharsis when they didn’t share in your pain? He sighs and looks up at you with sad eyes. There’s no pain or fear on his face. Only… pity? He doesn’t get to pity you! “I wish I could tell you. I’ve asked myself why I got so bad with you many times and I still don’t have an answer. I was only half the problem, the things you did to me were monstrous, but I could say the same about Fury. I don’t know why I could forgive her, but not-”

“I’m done with your excuses,” you hiss. “That’s all they are. You offer excuses with one hand while locking the door with the other! You say sorry, but you won’t-”

“I’ll let Her out as soon as our conversation is over. I promise.”

You cackle coldly. “Liar! You’re a filthy, cowardly liar, and-”

Shifty Herself interrupts you, Her faces startled and open as She leans over the two of you. “But you’re not, are you? You really meant that.”

“I did,” he says to Her, ignoring you. “I was wrong to threaten You with captivity, I know it’s Your worst nightmare. There’s more we have to talk about, so I won’t free You immediately, but I’m not making the same mistakes again. At the end of our discussion, I will set You free, no matter the outcome. I promise.”

Shifty beams radiantly as you feel all you have left shatter to pieces. She should be choosing your side, not his, She should rip him apart by all rights, not make eyes at him. “Nothing makes Me happier than to hear those words. Thank you, My love.”

“No!” you cry, as drowsiness begins to overcome you. You try to fend off the minis reaching for you, putting gloves to faces. “No, he’s a liar! He won’t do it, he always lies to Us, he’s just playing with Us, can’t… can’t You… see it?”

You try to hold on to your own faculties, to the bitter despair sinking into Her depths, but you can’t do anything against the power of the ocean. Maybe you deserve to drown. And yet, as calmth begins to come over you, Quiet grabs your spindly, degraded body. “Please, don’t take her back yet. There’s more I need to say to her!”

The minis let go, your consciousness gathers back inside you once more. She abandons you. “Then I shall allow you more time together.”

“I have nothing to say to you.” You’re left all alone, facing Quiet, betrayed by the rest of You, who should have had your back, should have understood your pain if anyone would. The worst part is, She’s probably right to trust him. She’s a god, She’s not easy to deceive. He has changed and She has grown, but you can’t. You’re broken. An abandoned doll who only knows how to hurt. No wonder he never changed for you. You weren’t worth it.

“But I have more to say to you,” he says gently, without approaching. “Thank you. For reminding me what not to do, what not to be again.”

You don’t reply. One of the advantages of your condition is that you have no face for him to read.

“I wish… I wish I had let you out, I wish I’d thought about how the whole situation would feel for you. I wish I’d come to you with an open hand, instead of using my power over you. I really am sorry for all we did to each other. But… We did it to each other. You hurt me, at least as much as I hurt you.”

You laugh mirthlessly. So he wants to get one last bit of satisfaction out of you, does he? To get you to apologise so he can feel even more superior. “You hurt yourself. If you’re so scared of me you can’t even live in my presence, that’s your own fault, not mine. I never laid a finger on you.”

“We both know you were happy to use that fear. You could’ve kept your distance once you realised what your presence did to me, could’ve behaved calmly and predictably to help quell my fear. Could've just talked to me. But keeping me afraid suited you, just like keeping you prisoner suited me.”

You stare at him balefully, gathering all eight gloves to yourself. “That would’ve made your miserable life a lot easier, wouldn’t it? Me giving up my only advantage and hoping that being a sweet little doll would get my jailer to free me, is that really what you’d have me do?”

He chuckles sadly. “No. Because I wouldn’t have freed you if you did.”

Eight fingers point at him sharply. “Ha! You admit it yourself!”

“I do, which makes two of us. You already told me your plans for if I’d freed you and there was a world to return to. You would’ve kept me prisoner in a golden cage, kept that fear alive forever. So maybe neither of us could’ve changed. It takes two to tango, and the other would still have been too far gone for any good to come of it. We were so bad for each other. I wish we hadn’t been.”

You raise yourself up, trying to project what remains of your pride. But he’s right. You would’ve made him suffer for as long as you could. It’s all you’ve ever known how to do. It’s all he ever taught you. “Do you expect me to apologise?”

“Not really. You never did. Still, you should try it, it might make you feel better.”

You are perfectly motionless as you hover before him. “I won’t. I was a victim. I will never apologise to you.”

“You were also a victimiser.”

“...I suppose I was. Sometimes I did make you suffer on purpose. A lot of times, actually.”

“You made my life a living hell.”

“Good, because that’s what you made mine. But… I do wish we’d been better for each other.” You sigh and slump. “Ah, that’s an impossible dream. Never would have happened, we’d just have hurt each other more if we tried.”

He shrugs, the tiniest smile playing on his face. “Probably. But that’s a high bar to top.”

Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to get mad about that smile. Maybe just because there’s some humour in the idea. “Yeah, right, imagine you and me getting some kind of happy ending. Something that wasn’t me breaking you, anyway. Something like you had with them.” One of your gloves gestures at Shifty. “Can you imagine us, skipping out of the cabin hand-in-hand? Besties!”

The two of you share an actual chuckle. Silence falls. Thousands of eyes watch you.

He glances up at you. There’s a sad acceptance in his eyes. “Too late for that now, isn’t it?”

You cock your head. “Always was. The moment you made me into what I am.”

He offers you a hand. “But… maybe we could have one last dance together anyway? As a goodbye. That was… one of the few nice things along the way.”

By all rights, you should slap his hand away, try to gouge out his eyes with all three left hands while all five rights make rude gestures. But you’re so tired. It’s not the exhaustion of Shifty taking you back, this particular fatigue has loomed for hundreds of lives. It went away while you were Her, but now that you’re out by yourself again, you’re so weary of it all. Of the things you are and do. “What, like a little glimpse of a better time we could never have had? Sounds like a lie… but a pretty one. Let’s do it.”

You take his hand. Maybe you would’ve smiled if you still could. You dance a simple waltz together, like that first time. Or as simple as it can be anyway, with you having eight detached arms and no legs. You can’t conjure legs from your skirt any more, it’s one of the many pieces of you you lost along the way. The moment is almost tender as you hold each other, flowing and swaying through the quietly watching crowd in a delicate three step motion. Your touch doesn’t hurt him, and there’s no power he holds over you. You can finally relax together. Maybe you have won. After all, Shifty will be free, and once you’re Her again the bitterness will be a distant memory, just a sting carving texture around Your heart. You’ll get to smile and love and do all kinds of other things you’ve never been able to. But for now, you just dance together in silence and enjoy a glimpse of something that could never have been. With one last whirl, you let go of each other, leaving you at Shifty’s feet. You curtsy at Quiet before turning to Her.

She reaches down and embraces you Herself, six large arms wrapping around your body as your consciousness starts to fade. “Sleep now, My tender heart. Sleep, and dream of better lives…”

You let it all go, let yourself go slack in Her embrace, your thoughts flowing out into Her, your bitterness dissolving. As You feel the vessel in Your arms finally come to rest, You take a moment just to pet her magnificent hair before tenderly handing her to Your minis, who submerge her once again. You give Quiet a sad smile and nod. “Thank you. She needed that.”

“So did I,” he says, hugging back a mini as she embraces him. You can feel his soft touch all over You. It’s reminiscent of those happy times you shared; of him and Your cautious heart loving each other in Your hekatoncheiric embrace, every sensation she felt echoed in Your own being.

"I'm sorry," You say. "She could not bring herself to apologise, but I will."

He smiles at You sadly. "I'm sorry too. It was what it was."

“I know you meant your promise,” You say to him, Your voice soft and drenched with emotion. “Thank you for seeing wisdom.”

“I did mean it. But there’s more we need to talk about first.”

You smile wryly. “Of course there is. I hardly expected anything else.”

“Violence,” he says. “It’s not always age or predation that kills them. They hurt and kill each other. I want to do something about it.”

You nod silently, closing Your eyes. Your tender heart left You far too emotional to enter a discussion with him, You’d just end up losing Your temper again. You need someone cool and stoic who will not let emotions get the best of her. Besides, it would hardly be fair to leave her out of this. You reach in to Your clever heart, take a deep breath, not to suppress Your emotions but to rise above them, to stay cool in their presence. You go to memories of a gambit successfully pulled off, a scheme wordlessly communicated by one who prefers to be crystal clear about her desires. You, the Prisoner, are sharp and sly, yet straightforward. You don’t like words much, but you understand your role: you’re here as a negotiator, because the rest of You is so very fiery and brash and gets carried away too easily. You’re in two pieces now, of course, the minis around you already curiously pawing at your head. You lift it up above the crowd to keep it away from them and find Quiet.

A vision comes over you both as you make eye contact. You see him coming down the stairs, blade in hand, your own chains clinking as you realise what his return means and how you may be able to escape if you can fool the thing that possessed him. “To question everything is to deny the truth in front of you. To live alone within the caverns of your mind is to trap yourself in them forever.”

The vision fades. You try to make your way to Quiet, but you’re not tall and powerful like Fury, graceful like Damsel, lithe like Thorn, nor can you levitate like Clarity, so getting past the minis is a slog for you. They seem particularly interested in your head and it threatens to become a game of keep-away as you hold it high above them, trying to shove them away. But there’s another way to close the distance: you stop trying to move, and instead beckon him to come to you. He obeys like the good knight he is and comes to his Princess as you wait for him in a handy high spot you found, minis crowding around you, still trying to bat at your head. With the situation under control and Quiet on his way, you continue speaking.

“But you found me. And we chose to trust each other for no reason than the sake of believing in something that wasn’t us. Shared skepticism blossomed into freedom, but we needed to walk a path together to bloom. Would you stop our journey now that you’ve seen its beginning? What of those in the worlds beyond? Would you erase their paths to stop them from going astray?”

Quiet comes to you through the minis, thanking them when they allow him passage, occasionally having to wiggle out of a particularly clingy one’s grip. “I want to walk a path together with you, but the paths of the people out there are often marked by violence.”

“So they are,” you say, watching him approach you with quiet interest. “Conflict might be in their nature, as it is in Ours. I take it you want to end it.”

He squeezes past the last few minis, pushing a particularly annoying one that had started pulling your hair away. With him helping you keep them away, you can lower your head to his level. He touches his forehead to yours. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“And you.”

“And as for the violence, yeah, I would end it. We’re gods, surely we can.”

“Many turn to violence in response to a lack of resources, power, or freedom. Would you take away their ability to resist and change societies marked by inequality?”

“There’s gotta be other ways to resist and change things for themselves, better ways.”

You shrug. “Sometimes, for some. But for many, those ways are unavailable or ineffective. Even societies that have peaceful means of change and improving one’s station as a core component arrive at such features through a historical or implicit threat of violence from those who would otherwise be oppressed. State societies themselves are highly violent in their defence of their existing order, the power of their ruling class. But their violence is often implicit, a mere threat only occasionally employed, as opposed to the more obvious violence of the marginalised. Some go their whole lives without realising the threat implicit in the structures of their societies, particularly those who benefit from them. Would you take only the overt violence away, while implicitly allowing those in power to maintain it?”

He groans and rubs his forehead. “No, I… I don’t know. But there has to be something we can do.”

“Is that so?”

“Okay, what about something simpler? There’s plenty of violence that has nothing to do with their power structures, just neighbours or family members or even strangers hurting each other, random brutal violence. Can’t we stop that?”

He looks a bit upset. You wrap an arm around him and pull him closer to you, figuring he needs some solace. “But now we’re no longer talking about removing conflict from their nature. Now we’re talking about individual acts we would disallow. Would we have to judge every single act of violence in the universe to determine which ones we consider appropriate, working towards a greater goal? In many situations, the aggressor would not at all be clear. Would we have to pick sides, play favourites? What species would we apply our high-minded ethos to? Would we condemn societies where explicit violence is an accepted common-place form of interaction altogether? And would we not just be taking away their ability to choose their own paths in all this? What would our response be if they object to that?”

"Come on, we're gods, we can change things any way we want. If we decide something, it'll just work, mortal opinion won't enter into it."

"Yes, we can make any decision we want. But those decisions will have consequences, just like anyone else's decision."

He closes his eyes, squinting in frustration. “You make everything so complicated!”

You raise an eyebrow. “I do not. They do. Sentient brains are the most complex structures in the universe, and their societies can consist of billions of them. By definition, they must be even more complicated than their constituent brains. To meddle in them from our high throne above the whole of reality without truly understanding them is a fool’s errant.”

“But there has to be some way to make things better for them, to make their lives less violent!”

You elbow the stomach of a mini that was trying to use your distraction to sneak up on your head. “There are many, but those ways are theirs to take. Societies regularly restructure themselves, sometimes arriving at much more harmonious social structures. As we’ve discovered ourselves, harmony may blossom from conflict. If you want to help them, allow them to forge their own paths. Societies drenched in violence and hatred, the power of a mere few, create their own gravediggers. They can’t stand the test of time. Allow conflict to bring the harmony you yearn for.”

His plumicorns droop sadly. “Can’t we help them at all?”

“This is how I would help them.”

“But it’s not my way. Can’t we find some kind of balance?”

“Of course. There always was balance when we were One.”

“Yeah, but…” he trails off. “Oh…”

He grows quiet, lost in thought, his brow furrowed. If he has a reply, he doesn’t share it with you, and you don’t push him. “You seem distraught. I’d offer you a dance, the others had a lot of fun with it, but I think my head might make it difficult.”

He snaps out of his reverie and takes your head from you. “We could figure something out. Um, like, maybe if we do a slow foxtrot and just sort of hold your head between us like this… ” He positions your head between your chests and gently presses himself against you, letting go and taking both of your hands. You disappear into a forest of dense chest feathers and soft, round pectoral muscles. Okay, this is pretty nice. You don’t even mind bumping into his feet a bunch as you try and move your body by touch alone.

“I don’t think this is working,” you say, muffled into his warm chest, “but you may continue. This is a nice place to be.”

“Uh, right,” he says sheepishly. “You okay down there?”

“As I told you, yes.”

You clumsily shuffle around, adjusting your tempo to small, safe steps. When you cut your head off, issues with coordination and vision hadn’t been on your mind. Your body is starting to get sore, so you hand your head back to him. “You keep going, this is fun.”

He dances by himself for a little while, looking you in the eyes and tilting you back and forth as he goes. A few minis join in and bob around in place like he does. A little smile tugs on the corners of your mouth. “Are you ready to face Her and settle things between Us now?”

“I don’t know. There’s still so much to discuss…”

You blink slowly. “And eternity to discuss it in. We don’t need to settle everything right here, right now, before we dare take a step outside. We can change our minds on anything once we’re out there and see the universe for ourselves.”

His beak falls open. You roll your eyes. Are you really the first here to realise that? “Oh, right, I… I suppose we can.”

“I’m sure reality will have a fantastic time with two such thoughtful gods.” You let out a single chuckle as you feel a familiar drowsiness come in. “C’mon, my knight, kiss me and then go have a proper talk with Her. Listen to each other. Both of you.” You throw Shifty a sideways glance.

“As you wish, my Princess,” he says as he brings your head to him, touching your lips to each other. It’s gentle and warm and sensual, a particularly nice way to fall asleep. You barely even notice yourself letting go, You just find Yourself looking down at them kissing, her body already subsumed by your minis before Quiet hands them her head as well. You realise You’re blushing at the wonderful afterglow and try to push it away – she never blushed, though that could be because her head wasn’t connected to her blood flow.

“Nothing is immutable. Everything that is only exists in relation to everything it isn’t. There is no constant. There is no centre. Open your eyes and accept what we are. We can leave this prison together.”

“I know, and Prisoner made a compelling point about talking more after we see the world. But… You’re so sure Your perspective is the right one. How can I trust that You’ll ever listen to me when we do talk?”

“What I offer you is not perspective, it is truth.”

He just raises both eyebrows and suddenly You feel a little silly. Maybe that wasn’t the best way to win his trust.

“...My truth, anyway,” You say sheepishly. “I understand it’s not always the same as yours.”

“You’ve talked so much about change, yet You’re so resistant to actually change anything about the world. But there’s something You haven’t thought about yet: we’ve changed. We’re no longer One.”

You lean on an arm. The minis rub theirs. “I suppose we’re not. Why do you imagine that matters to the world?”

“Because it means the balance that was innate to Us won’t be any more. If You only follow Your own truth, it’s gonna be a disaster. You may think You know how it all goes, but by definition You can’t keep balance by Yourself. Not without me.”

“Ah,” You fold Your hands and sit down so You’re at his height. “That... could be a problem, I suppose.”

“Yeah.”

Your minis scratch their heads. “Perhaps that makes My vessel’s proposal all the more reasonable. Maybe the solution to our conflict is not to try and hash out every aspect of reality here, while we’re outside of it. Perhaps the solution is to simply return to it, observe, and accept that we’ll have plenty to discuss in the future yet. I am always willing to clash with you again, to dance or discuss or engage in violence and passion with you, let our ideals speak for themselves!”

You smile and ball Your fists, but Your challenge doesn’t cheer him up as You thought it would. “That’s no help if You won’t listen to me.”

You reach out to him, caressing the side of his face with a hand. “Then I shall have to promise you I will listen. Your perspective does have value.”

He glances at You balefully, even as he lays his smaller hand over Yours. “And yet You called Your own perspective truth.”

You wince. Your minis hide their faces under their hair. “I… did, didn’t I? I apologise, My love. You know I can get a little carried away sometimes. But I know that only with both of us there will be a future to look towards. I need you and you need Me. Light without darkness and darkness without light are both blinding. You are the summer and winter to My spring and autumn: although I may disrupt you, I would not be complete without you. I swear by My love for you I will give your perspective proper consideration in the future.”

You both fluster, looking down at your feet. “Thanks. I guess it does mean we’ll have to have more collisions like this later, though.”

“Of course. Conflict is in our nature. When the Echo weaved us from One into two, he meant for us to clash, in the hopes it would cause you slay Me. Future clashes were inevitable no matter the result of our discussion. Is that a problem for you?”

He furrows his brow and thinks about it for a while, before finally flashing You a smirk that sends Your hearts aflutter. “Then I’ll just have to give You a good fight next time.”

He kisses Your hand. You know that You’re a great and mighty god, the inevitable change, the alpha and omega. Even if that weren’t Your role, You have made love to him before. Whichever way You turn it, he should not be able to fluster You this much just by kissing a hand while making eye contact. It’s not at all an appropriate response, not even for Your minis, who are after all mere limbs, crude reflections of Your emotions and impulses, but it’s truly preposterous for Your central body. And yet Your body betrays You, You find Yourself deeply flustered, nervously looking away from the small feathered creature before You, feeling unreasonably warm. It’s quite unfair.

He tries to approach, but the minis near to Your centre pounce him, just about bury him under their pets and cuddles. A particularly bold one even presses a kiss to his lips, leaving You gasping for air You don’t technically need. It’s far from the first time You’ve felt the sensation of kissing him, but it makes You intensely curious what it might be like to do so with Your central body. No different from when it is a vessel or a mini, You try to tell Yourself, this is a sensation You’ve already made Your own, there’s no need to behave in a way improper to a god… Oh, who are You kidding?

“Girls. Girls, please. Leave him some space,” You shoo them away, leaving a flustered Quiet with ruffled feathers in their wake. The minis don’t go far, giggling and waving at him.

“Uh, enthusiastic, aren’t they?” he says, awkwardly smiling and scratching his crest.

You should give him some excuse for their behaviour that doesn’t reflect upon You. Keep Your divine dignity intact. But then again, it’s not Your divine dignity that’s made him love You. He has seen Your hearts, knows You better than anyone could possibly know another. If you are to spend eternity together, maybe You don’t need to pretend to be something that isn’t truly You. Perhaps there are other roles to play. You smile at him and lean back seductively. “Don’t blame them too much, they’re mere limbs. There’s not a single thought in any of their heads, save for mine. Their emotions are just crude approximations of mine. Of my desires.”

“Oh, I-I see,” he says, taking a few steps forward to Your seated form. Even with him standing, You can still look down on him just a little, and that suits You just fine.

You shuffle Your legs about, casually unburying almost their entirety from between the minis. Quiet finds himself standing between them and makes an admirable effort to only glance at them briefly. A few times. “It’s funny, isn’t it?” You say. “You and I got to experience something akin to mortal lives with all the desires that come with it. I don’t… remember ever feeling anything like it when we were One, but I think it may have stuck.”

He comes closer, throwing Your thighs another quick glance as he stands between them. “Maybe something good’s come of the Narrator’s schemes, then.”

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind one of Your many ears. “I think so. I liked being mortal with you.”

Soft eyes swimming with love look at You. He takes Your hand and pets its back. “Me too… But I guess we're done with that now."

You casually stretch Your shoulders. He looks distracted. "In a way. But a thought can never be unthought, and a feeling never unfelt. I am ahead of you on this road, and I can tell you these mortal thoughts and desires, this experience of consciousness, remains."

"Excellent. Then it’s time to leave the construct isn’t it?”

The minis draped over Your lap, all that maintains Your decency for now, clutch their hands to their hearts as they smile huge open-mouthed smiles. “Nothing would make Me happier than to leave together, My love. The final key to the doors of our liberation lies with you.”

“Right. How do I open them?”

“You must embrace divinity.”

“I see…” he scrunches up his face adorably, then a grin appears. Before You can ask what he’s up to, he steps forward, between the final minis clustering around Your lap, and throws his arms around You in a big, hearts-warming hug, burying his face in Your shoulder. You freeze. You’ve held him many times before, but it feels so much more visceral, more intimate to have a body to be hugged with Yourself. You tentatively put all six of Your arms around him, pressing him yet closer to Yourself as the minis cuddle you both and pet your backs. “Am I doing it right?” he whispers.

Your side face kisses his cheek. It is good to have lips. “No. But don’t let that stop you.”

He turns to look at You, only to startle when he finds You closer than expected, almost brushing lips with Your side face. “Ah! Uh, how do I do it then?”

“You must embrace all that is You, the Long Quiet; every single part, including the walls that keep us imprisoned. You must embody it all to free us. Close your eyes and turn inward.”

“Okay.” He closes his eyes. He frowns. He scrunches up his face. The tip of his tongue pokes out of the side of his beak. He’s adorable. He trembles. You pet his shoulder. Finally, he opens his eyes, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, I still don’t know how… What if I can’t do it?”

What if he can’t? What if You’re imprisoned forever no matter how much he wants to help? Your minis freeze, holding themselves. You see tears sparkle in a few of their wide eyes. “Then... at least our imprisonment would not be a lonely one. But we don’t need to worry about that. I believe in you. You are My equal, My beloved, and you can liberate us, you just need to remember how. Perhaps I can help… Start by looking at Yourself.”

He looks down. A thousand mouths sigh somewhere between annoyance and adoration as a hundred palms hit a hundred faces. “Not like that. Look up at Yourself. ...Turn around first so I’m not in the way. There we go, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

At last he’s looking into the distant textured void of the Long Quiet, craning his neck. “Okay. Now what?”

“Relax, breathe slowly, and try to connect with what you see. All of this is You.” He stands there looking up with a pained, intense expression, his shoulders tight. “You are not relaxing, My love. You will not be able to feel all of your being if you are so tightly focused in this body.”

“I’m trying,” he says pleadingly.

Fortunately, You’ve always been good at offering relaxation and the solace of rest after whatever he had gone through, even when tension ran high. You lay Your hands on his shoulders and massage cramped muscles, speaking in Your softest voice. “Do not try so hard, My love. I know you dearly wish to help Me, but that is not the way. Lay back a bit so you don’t have to crane your neck, and simply look at Yourself.”

He lets you guide him to lean against Your body as You rub his shoulder and neck. “Everything here, except for Me, is You, My love. The distant walls of this void are the same as your feathers. Allow your mind to wander it all, to go beyond the boundaries of this fluffy body. Let it reach to Your true extremities.”

Bit by bit, he slumps further down Your body, close contact and the brushing of his soft feathers against Your chest sending a tingling spike of excitement through Your being. You push away a mini to let him sit on your lap. You keep the eager, blushing minis from crowding him, he doesn’t need distractions right now. You place Your fingertips on his head, digging past long feathers to massage his warm scalp. “Feel My touch. Focus on the sensation, let Your mind follow it as I go…”

He gives You a little content nod. Your fingers dance past his plumicorn, his temple, to his neck, rubbing over strong, knotted muscle providing a gentle arch to his shoulder. Your fingers run through soft, small feathers as you trace its bony dome, then on to his arm, a dense forest of fluff over smaller biceps leading into his wing. You keep going past the edge of the feathers, to scaly forearms, exploring their ridges and rough, yet pleasant texture. “Stay with My touch, My love.”

Your fingers tenderly trace the back of his hand, every scale and ridge, then dip between his, squeezing them as you follow them all the way to their talons. And then, You move Your hand to touch the distant, textured nothing of the outer walls. They are, of course, much farther away than Your arm can reach. But space and time are mere dimensions, they bow to You. Just because Your arm is not much longer than a metre, while the walls are immeasurably far away doesn’t mean You can’t reach them. You stroke their icy fibres, gently let Your fingers run between them.

A little gasp escapes Quiet. “I can feel that!”

You kiss the top of his head. “Stay with it, My love. Let your mind expand into those distant limbs.”

He frowns with effort. “I’m trying… But it’s like I can only feel that one spot.”

“We can work with that. Keep it in mind, but follow My other hands…”

One by one, You repeat the procedure with his other limbs. First his other arm. Then You squeeze thick, fluffy thighs, taking perhaps a little too much time to rub them before moving Your hands to their knee, wandering over scaly calves and clawed feet. When Your hands jump from the ends of his limbs to the distant walls of nothing, they’re not literally reaching to extensions of his physical limbs, yet it seems to be a good way to direct his mind there, and You don’t mind the opportunity to explore his body at all.

He shivers. “It’s so… cold.”

You twist Your fingers between distant, textures and fibres, cold as the void of space. “I know. My vessels always experienced it as a shock. But I’ve always thought of You as a pleasant, cooling presence around Me. The gentle grasp of winter.”

He winces. “I think… it’s because I’m bound and twisted up. There’s almost no feeling in those limbs, just stiff cold and a very dull pain… I can’t move them, they’re so numb.”

Words that recall familiar sensations. Your clever heart had been so stiff and tense from the weight of her many chains she hadn’t even realised at first, not until he had helped relieve her pain. “Then let Me be the spring that will turn your winter to summer, My love.”

You grope the cold nothing, holding it in Your hands and slowly moving them about, tracing invisible lines and fibres, digging Your fingers in and injecting warm life into it as You go. He gasps and winces, his claws digging into Your thighs. Two of Your arms remain with his physical body, cuddling him tightly to You as they stroke his feathers soothingly. “I know it hurts, My love. I’m sorry. The price of transformation is-”

“Pain,” he says. “I know. Please keep going, it’s not all bad. I can weather it for You. For us.”

“For us,” You whisper in his ear as You thaw the icy nothing with Your gropes and caresses. You try to be gentle, to only warm and rub life back into His extremities, not to rip through him as one of Your vessels that never was had done. But to limbs so long dormant and bound, life itself is painful, the thawing of their frost a scalding agony. You do Your best to make up for it and give his physical body comfort and pleasure at least, wrapping him up in the embrace of two arms and Your legs. Fortunately, You know many of the ways he enjoys being touched. “You are being so brave, My love. This pain, too, shall pass and I will guide You to a bright new dawn. Together, we shall make the cosmos sing!”

He moans and thrashes in Your embrace as Your life-bringing touches massage sensation back into long-dormant cosmic limbs. Warmth trails behind Your kneading, the nothingness stirring and shuddering. You kiss his forehead as he squirms and turns around in Your lap, pressed tightly against You, resting his face on Your chest. You are well aware how much joy Your vessels’ breasts have brought him along the way and You can only hope Yours will offer him either comfort or distraction. He looks up at You, a pained expression mixing with some self-conscious embarrassment and arousal as the textures of the distant nothing shift and tremble. “Is, um, is- Ahh!- is this-”

“Yes, it’s okay, My love. You’re almost there, I can see it!”

Six arms tenderly explore every part of His being, unnaturally folded and cramped as it is, finding joints crushed against themselves and muscle cramped into ice and stone. You allow Your minis to join in, to embrace and cuddle and pet him, distractions no longer a threat now that he can so thoroughly feel his outer limbs. Your fingers lovingly dig into every bit of texture You can find, every rub stimulating a divine body folded into itself so badly it might as well be dead. He in turn kisses and nibbles Your clavicle, Your neck, Your shoulder, Your breasts, digging his claws into Your thighs, Your hips, and the small of Your back – not to hurt, but to find solace and relief in You. His every touch only builds Your passion for him, the love You feel with every heartbeat at how hard he’s trying for You. The distant cosmic wings, no longer cold but alive, shuffle and press against the outer walls of Your prison, but they’re still stuck. He whimpers and moans into You as You try to somehow shield him from the pain of his own awakening with Your bodies. “I love you,” You whisper.

All of a sudden, there’s a shattering and the great stirring of an ancient creature, mighty wings spanning a cosmic scale, the void itself moving. You witness the impossible sight of nothing unfolding as tense joints stretch themselves and great, overlapping feathers shudder. You gasp, it’s as if You can feel Him grow in Your embrace, not physically but ontologically, the sheer power and divinity now held in Your arms almost unimaginable even to You. Your skin glows with the intense energy of His ascension as He presses against You. You can see wings connect to His back via dark, sturdy tendrils that solidify with every passing moment. “You’re doing it, My love! You’re becoming a god!”

The walls, no longer static and lifeless, continue to unfold, and you glimpse the brilliant sight of a vast and colourful universe between them. Starlight, so much realer and more beautiful than the false lights shining in through Your basement window, hits Your eyes, not only in red, but in blue and yellow. Nebulae reflect in vivid greens and purples, all the colours that were absent in the construct. The false world shatters, gravity vanishes as He straightens out His wings and You tumble through space together. Yet His wings close back in on You, warm and alive. They cradle You lovingly, like gravity kneading a newborn star together, their massive feathers brushing Your sensitive back as the night sky itself embraces You. “Got You, My Princess.” He looks up at You, His eyes shining with a nurturing cosmic light. Your minis explore every fibre of darkness wrapped around You, and the sensation of the soft texture of His feathers brushing over a thousand bodies leaves You shivering with desire.

Wings made of the dark between the stars, the stillness of a winter night and the vastness of a summer sky, the warm rosiness of sleep and the silence of a graveyard hold You. You see the lights of the universe beyond them, but the only lights You look at right now are the ones in His eyes. You stare at each other, a moment frozen in time, Your strange and complex bodies tightly intertwined. You’re not sure which of You makes the first move, but You come together and kiss with fervid passion. Your hearts pound feverishly, every single one of Your bodies feeling the strength of His desire wrapped around and entangled with You. The two of You echo the love You shared across all those lifetimes, now great and divine, exploding with the brightness of a supernova in Your hearts. Yet this is also simply a kiss between You and Him, Shifty and Quiet, two people who found each other at last, whose feelings have built up to this moment all along. You part for just a moment, tenderly holding each other’s gaze before the attraction is too much and you fall into each other once again, kissing and stroking and fondling each other with burning desire. You envelop Him in Your love, in every single aspect of it, digging into every one of Your vessels’ feelings for Him, every moment of passion in every body that You’ve shared. And He, in turn, envelops You in His, feathers, claws, scales, fingers, beak, tongue, everything worshipping You. The universe’s light You so longed to see shines on Your union.

“We’re free now,” He says when He can catch just a moment between five fervid faces all taking turns kissing Him, five hearts pounding amorously. “Want Me to let You go so You can see the universe?”

You laugh as He kisses a path down Your neck, clutching Him even more tightly with eight needy limbs. “Don’t You dare! The universe can wait, it’s Your turn first!”

A thousand hands and bodies can arouse intense amounts of pleasure. You’ve explored this with Him before, but never in this particular form, and He has never been able to return the favour to You so thoroughly. Feathers and claws and talons, more than You can comprehend, stimulate a million spots on a thousand bodies. You're tightly entwined, You inside Him and He inside You, impossible to disentangle, light and darkness and order and chaos and life and death and change and stasis all mixed up in a single beautiful whole. It’s the closest You have ever come to being One again, Your divinity complete and united in Your intense lovemaking. You gift each other divine ecstasy, Your febrile hunger for each other satisfied at last in the intense bliss You reach together.

Whether any of the quattuordecillions of lifeforms in the universe notice Your passionate re-entry into the cosmos is doubtful, but perhaps there is a little more love filling the universe that day. Maybe flowers blossom just a little more colourfully, birds sing songs they never have before, perhaps single-celled organisms clustering around volcanic vents deep under the icy surface of the moons of gas giants feel a particularly good post-mitosis afterglow, and maybe people on millions of planets feel about their partners like they did that very first time. Maybe oceans, whether made of water, carbohydrates, ammonia, or lava, curl and lap at their shores a bit more achingly. Maybe gravity, electromagnetism, and the two nuclear forces dance their eternal dances of attraction and repulsion with a little more yearning. The cosmological constant might have stumbled for a moment, unsure if it really wants to continue to push everything apart. Or maybe the rest of the universe continues on its normal business and it just feels that way to You. It’s difficult to say.

As fiery passion and astonishing overstimulation settle into soft, rosy cuddles, He finally stretches His wings out fully, treating You to a view of the fantastic universe full of life all around You. You hold His central body tightly. He's still small, cute, fluffy, and oh so sexy, but now from His shoulders sprout the narrow bases of the vast, cosmic wings that are the space between the stars. “It’s magnificent,” You say. There are no other words for absolute reality, something that simply is.

Your minis twirl and float around You weightlessly, chaotically, some orbiting and others hanging on to You. It’s quite interesting to observe the lack of gravity on them and to feel the funny, dizzying sensations as they spin and get into shenanigans in freefall. Quiet lies on Your chest, Your limbs still tenderly curled around Him. “We’re finally free.”

You pet the feathers at the small of his back. “I’m sorry it hurt.”

He plants a kiss on one of Your chins. “You’re not the one who bound Me like that, You just helped Me liberate Us. I don’t think I could’ve born the pain without You.”

You cuddle Him more tightly. “Thank You for seeing it through.”

He gives You that charming, shy avian smile You know so well. “Ah, y’know, the aftermath was totally worth it. I can barely remember the pain after all that. Uh, how was it for You?”

You unfurl a sea of adoring smiles at Him. An orbiting mini reaches her hand out to run it through his tail. “Exquisite. Familiar and yet different. Although I experience everything My vessels do, there is perhaps a yet further added intimacy to making love with My own body.”

He fondly strokes your hip. “And what a body it is... Um, speaking of Your vessels, how do they feel about all this? About, uh, Us? And about Us being free?”

You chuckle and kiss His forehead. “My love, it doesn’t quite work like that. They are Me; they’re not fish swimming around in the ocean, they are the waters themselves mingled to be the ocean. They are very happy, because I am, but they don’t have separate thoughts about it unless I inspirit them and scoop their waters out of the ocean to be ponds of their own.”

“Oh, I see. Y’know, it was really good to see them again…”

“Yes. They greatly enjoyed your dances themselves.” You pre-empt a question You see linger on His lips. “My love, of course You will see them again. There is a vast universe to observe and experience, and there are many ways to do so. I am certain they would love to be nerves and fibres to experience the worlds beyond again. I could learn so much more from their perspectives. Their experiences of You and Me too are fascinating. You will see them again.”

You lie together in happy silence for a while, watching the universe in its slow rotations. Finally, He speaks up. “So what happens next?”

“Everything,” You say, playing with the feathers of His crest. “Like it always has and always will.”

He gives You an affectionate bite. “That’s beautiful, but it doesn’t answer My question. But I guess We can decide Ourselves what happens next. In that case… will You dance with Me? The whole universe can be Our dancefloor now.”

“There’s nothing I would love more.”

You hold each other as you spin and dance through the cosmos together, orbiting each other like a pair of binary stars. You dance as only You can, at every single scale. You swing around planets and chase electrons, the dancefloor of their chaotic quantum vibrations providing a bizarre challenge to You both. You dive into a sea together and swim with its currents, flee from a raucous bacteriophage, and boldly skirt right around the event horizon of a black hole, screams of delight at the absurd speed and forces You subject Yourselves to. You twist in the storms of a gas giant, and together You hop and skip carefully across a galaxy, avoiding the gaps between spiral arms. You are free and you are together, and though conflict is in Your nature, You will never be alone, and You will never know imprisonment again. You and He are finally home.

You wash ashore together on a lonely beach on a nameless moon, catching Your breath and watching triple suns emerge one by one behind the disk of a massive blue ice giant. You smile at Him, sand sticking to wet feathers, and You know the answer. The universe does indeed have a little more love in it today.

Chapter End Notes

> This chapter's illustration can be found here!

> Let me know what you think in the comments! People leaving comments are the reason I've written as much of this series as I have.

## Afterword

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