## Preface

Kiss the Sleeping Mound
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at https://archiveofourown.org/works/58724365.

Rating:
  Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning:
  No Archive Warnings Apply
Category:
  Multi
Fandom:
  Slay the Princess (Visual Novel)
Relationships:
  The Long Quiet/The Shifting Mound/The Thorn (Slay the Princess), The Player | The Hero/The Shifting Mound/The Thorn (Slay the Princess), The Long Quiet/The Shifting Mound (Slay the Princess), The Player | The Hero/The Shifting Mound (Slay the Princess), The Long Quiet/The Thorn (Slay the Princess), The Player | The Hero/The Thorn (Slay the Princess), The Shifting Mound/The Thorn (Slay the Princess)
Characters:
  The Shifting Mound (Slay the Princess), The Thorn (Slay the Princess), The Long Quiet (Slay the Princess), The Player | The Hero (Slay the Princess), The Moment of Clarity (Slay the Princess)
Additional Tags:
  Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Shifting Mound's dormant form, AKA Sleeping Mound, AKA Handsy, Polyamory, Polyamory in which two of those involved are the same being, but one is a humanoid Princess and the other a divine cluster of hands, Hand Kisses, (Obviously), Lots of other kisses too, Oblivion path, Moment of Clarity is not in the story directly much but her shadow very much hangs over it, Meant as a loose sequel to Kiss the Nightmare but readable without it, Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor appearance by Witch, Make-outs, Shifty doesn't have a name at this point so is always referred to as capital S She, Cuddles, naps, Lot of Hurt in the first half, Lot of Comfort in the second half, Shifty loves Her vessels, Forgiveness, self-forgiveness, Rated T for Thorn titty, Threesome - F/F/M
Language:
  English
Series:
  Part 9 of Kiss the Princess, Part 1 of Kiss the Sleeping Mound
Stats:
  Published: 2024-09-05 Words: 9,517 Chapters: 1/1

# Kiss the Sleeping Mound

by Vickysaurus

Summary

> After the Moment of Clarity, a traumatised Long Quiet meets the dormant form of the Shifting Mound. Although She tries to comfort him, communication is not easy when one of you is a cluster of hands only recently aware of Her existence and the other has just gone through many lifetimes of torment. Can a new bond blossom between them with new paths taken and new vessels found?

> (What if you could kiss the Sleeping Mound?)

Notes

> This one starts at the end of the Moment of Clarity, as you are forced to take her hand and release her.

See the end of the work for more notes

## Kiss the Sleeping Mound

You’re just an object, a tool. You were something else, a long time ago. But was that something you, or is it just a dull and jaded memory? There is no other ending here. Just take her hand, and set her free.

After thousands of half-remembered lifetimes of pain and fear, you extend your hand to the Princess’s to free her from the pit that the basement has become, the last trace of your will shattering along with her mask. The moment feels gentle, tender even. The Narrator fumes about it, but what does He know? He only remembers a single life, and though you remember far less than your Voices, it’s enough. This has to end.

The twisted, faceless Princess sighs happily as you pull her up from the pit. She twirls around to look at the dark, wretched world around you. “And that’s the end! I wonder what we’re going to do next. I didn’t think I’d be so… tired.”

The Princess, exhausted, slumps. “Why is it so cold?” are her final words before a tangle of hands emerge from nowhere and grab her softly, lovingly, taking her away as she falls asleep. What’s left of the world vanishes. Your memory returns as the mirror reappears. Your Voices babble, but their broken talk passes you by as you’re finally able to put the things that happened, the things that she did to you and you did to her, in their actual context. It doesn’t make you feel better, or any less broken. You numbly approach the mirror, and this time, your Voices welcome its presence, the oblivion it offers them. You almost wish you could be so lucky.

When you look into the mirror, you can see you’ve grown. You don’t feel grown.

You’re in the Long Quiet, and it reminds you of the Nightmare's bizarre void of a basement that you spent so many lifetimes in. You stay rooted to the spot. You feel almost nauseous at the idea of having to see Her again after all you went through, though the prospect would’ve once brought you joy. The first time She had appeared, when She took away the Prisoner at the end of your adventures together, you had been afraid, had initially thought Her something malicious that had done something horrible to your friend, your lover. But it wasn’t long before She had reassured you in Her kind, ethereal voice that She had done no harm, that the Prisoner had been a part of Her all along, a part that had now returned home. Strange though She was, She also felt so very familiar. She needed your help, and although saying goodbye to the Prisoner filled you with sadness, you were still glad to offer it. You were happy at the chance to be of service to Her and help Her know Herself, but even moreso, you were eager to meet a new version of Her, to experience another life together, no matter what difficulties you might encounter, no matter how bad your initial struggles might be.

In your worst nightmares, you could never have dreamed it’d go this wrong. And she had started out so sweet and warm this time around too, entirely unlike the cold, arrogant front the Prisoner had put up. It had all gone horribly wrong when you decided to keep her imprisoned a little longer. You now know, from the lips of both the Prisoner and the Nightmare, that in doing so you inflicted her worst nightmare on her. But you didn’t know at the time, you had truly done it without malice or cruelty, and yet when she slipped her chains, she’d reacted with absolute viciousness. And, hurt and afraid yourself, you had resolved to keep her imprisoned forever in response. And for thousands of lifetimes, you had been absolutely monstrous to each other. You had both tried everything, no way of hurting each other had been too low for you. The worst ones were when you tried other ways of persuasion, tried to use kindness, attraction, and love as a weapon and would only succeed in hurting yourselves even more. She had been truly dreadful, but you were no better than her. You had abused your power as her jailer, lied to her, and had told her to ignore her own suffering while serving her empty platitudes, all just to string her along and make your own stay more pleasant. In the end, you were the one who broke first, and it didn’t even matter. She would have been taken away by Her, an end would have come to your mutual torments, if you had just given in immediately.

The Long Quiet is cold and lonesome, it’s like you can feel your own bitterness in its stormy void. You hate it here, and there’s only one other place to go, only one person left to talk to. You dry your tears, steel yourself, and proceed to the cabin. You almost lose your resolve when you spot Clarity’s hollow head and spindly, inhuman form among Her hands. And yet, you need to speak to Her.

“Flickering lights in empty cityscapes become pockets of vitality and movement. I am more than I was before. Whenever you are ready, I will wipe your slate clean once again.”

You’re lost for words. She speaks so softly, without any trace of the bitterness that fills you. When you finally manage to speak, all you can say is “Why?”

“So that you may find further new perspectives,” She says, gesturing with Clarity’s many detached gloves, “new vessels that I can pour Myself into and witness you and Me from. So that I may be whole and know Myself and you.”

“No,” you say, your voice drenched with emotion, “why did You do all that to me? Why did I do it to you? We hurt each other so much…”

She tilts Clarity’s faceless head. “The vessels are shaped by their memories of you, but their impulses are drawn to the edge of the Long Quiet. To them you are a gate to something more, and any hurt you’ve caused them is understood as a fair price for freedom. But they are only thoughts and perspectives. They are not Me. The wounds they’ve suffered carve texture around My heart. Does your heart not feel the same?”

“I don’t feel like I still have a heart,” you say, staring wide-eyed into her mass of undulating limbs. “The things I did to you, and that you did to me… They didn’t carve texture around my heart, they ripped it out! It made me so much worse.”

“Without the vessels you bring Me, I would be as I was before. I would be alone and without sensation. I could not feel the joy of having you by my side, for I would not know your absence. Your suffering too, will help you know joy in time.”

Her words ring hollow. “No, I-I don’t even know how I can still feel joy after all we did, even the joyful moments we had were poisoned. I never thought You and I could’ve been like that… But it really happened.”

She pauses and flexes Her fingers in reflection. “I did not expect this outcome either. Such is the purpose of your journey, to show Me new perspectives to witness you and Me from. Not every perspective is a pleasant one, nor will everything we discover about ourselves be good. I apologise for the pain My vessel caused you, but it was necessary for our growth.”

“I didn’t even need to keep her imprisoned for so long, I could’ve freed her immediately and it would’ve been so much better for both of us and You would’ve taken her anyway!”

“But that would have been a different perspective. I would have learned different things about us that way. She would not have been the same gift you brought Me in the end.”

“So all of our suffering, everything I became, was just to give You a slightly different flavour of enrichment? Is that seriously all you have to say about her?”

“No. She is filled with sadness. A doll abandoned to the company of her darkest impulses. She desires only companionship, but the only thing she knows is how to hurt. She will make for a tender heart. Do not mourn her – she has finally found her way home.”

“I don’t mourn her, I mourn me, I mourn what I was and what I became when I was with her. But You don’t even regret anything, You just talk empty, meaningless nonsense about how the pain was necessary for our growth!”

Her hands retreat into themselves and behind Clarity a bit, She becomes less impressive and expansive. “I’m sorry. Words are… difficult for me. They never fully weave what I wish to say. If you do not like My answers, then you need not ask Me questions. The vessels you choose to bring Me carry far more meaning than anything words could say in the spaces between.”

“And yet, You don’t seem to get the meaning of what this one says at all.”

“What does she say, in your opinion?”

You take a deep breath and look away from Her, lingering affection making it impossible to say this to Her directly. “That there's immense cruelty and evil in both of us. That we are very, very bad for each other. That we’re both abominations who should not be allowed to leave here. I’m sorry.”

Before she can respond with empty platitudes and misplaced kindness, you attack. Your will cuts across Her, but nothing happens. You try to use your claws, but they too are unable to hurt Her in any way, even though you can touch Her.

She doesn’t respond with violence. You would have preferred if She had. It’s incredibly hard to read Her emotions at all without a face. “My roots burrow in an ocean beyond your sight,” She simply says. “We cannot harm each other as we are now.”

But you’re not done. Your breathing fast and ragged, you turn your will inward to end your own existence instead. But as it buries into the space your body should be, you feel nothing at all. You sink to the ground, sobbing, your emotional floodgates fully opening. You feel a hand reach forward and gently touch the side of your face. You want to slap it away, to strike at it, to bite it or pull on it until Her bones break. Instead, you lean into it, crying into the soft touch you don’t deserve. Another hand reaches forward and tries to dry your tears with that same misplaced, dissonant kindness. You remember the kindness you and your Nightmare showed each other well. It was always a weapon, a prelude to you hurting each other yet again.

“There’s nowhere for you to be but here,” She speaks softly. “With Me. Please, I do not wish for you to be in pain.”

Your tears do not dry, your chest still heaving with heavy sobs even as more hands wrap around you, holding you. You hate and yet love their touch, you and She are both simultaneously unworthy of each other, of this moment. Through your tears, you manage to sob out angry words. “You know this changes nothing, right? If I can’t kill you now, I’ll find another way, later. It can’t go on.”

“There is still much to be seen,” She says as Her hands hug you and rub your back. You hate that they do make you feel better. “Neither of us know the depths of our being. Perhaps at the end of this, I will be the one to kill you. Or perhaps we will leave this place together and find new horizons to discover.”

The floodwaters retreat a bit, your emotions calmer now. Even now, it’s strangely good to be with Her, to hear Her ethereal voice offer affection and solace. You can almost bring yourself to forgive Her, and if you could do that, maybe you could even forgive yourself eventually. You open tear-filled eyes, only to see that one of the hands holding you is a detached one, wearing a velvet glove. Clarity’s empty, faceless head is leaning towards you, seeming like she’s studying you intensely. Even though she can’t hurt you any more, though you don’t feel the static pain of your organs shutting down, you draw back sharply, Her hands quickly releasing you as you stand before Her once more. “No, I-I can’t,” you say, panic rising again. “I won’t leave with You, and I won’t complete You. I don’t want anything to do with this any more. I’m not doing it.”

Her hands retreat, gently weaving and gesturing around Clarity. “If you need time, I will wait with you.”

“No, I don’t need time! Send me back now for all I care, but I’m not getting You any more vessels.”

“You have already committed to My completion. You cannot go further astray.”

“Watch me. I think we’re done talking. Send me back already, and consider it my goodbye.”

She is silent for a little while. “I will long for your return,” She says defiantly, ignoring your resolve. “But it will give Me time to reflect on what I am. We will meet again.”

No, we won’t, you think with all your resolve. And in that moment, you focus solely on your determination, your refusal to help Her any further. No matter what, that feeling must stay, must survive into the next loop. You implant it deep within yourself, too deep to forget.

--

“You’re on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a Princess. You’re here to slay her. If you don’t, it will be the end of the world.”

As the Narrator’s voice tells you this, you find yourself filled with a solid determination not to help, to wash your hands of whatever this whole thing is. You immediately turn around and leave. As He grumbles about your decision, a second Voice pops up, one that agrees with you. Somehow you end up at the cabin the Narrator described anyway, so you turn around and leave again without saying a word. And, though you swear you took a different path, you end up at the cabin once more, to the Narrator’s smug delight. You ignore Him and keep on walking even as more and more cabins appear. You don’t care. You don’t care about the Narrator’s grumpy admonitions or the many Princesses within them, or even your Hero’s worried confusion, you just want out. And as the world fractures, everything goes dark.

When you reappear in the woods, the Narrator giving you the same spiel, there’s a wall all around that will obviously stop you from wandering off again. So instead, you resolve to stay rooted to the spot.

Achingly familiar words echo. “You have already committed to My completion. You cannot go further astray.”

None of the Voices seem to hear the new one, but Her words are a powerful force compelling you to move, to do something. You start moving a foot-

No.

And that familiar, yet mysterious determination intervenes. The unstoppable force meets the immovable object, and the object wins. You’re not going anywhere, you want nothing to do with this Princess. The voices in your head argue about it, but you’re not moving. And finally, the world starts slowly disappearing along with your Voices. Your memories return. There is a distant rumbling, a sound of many sounds. Undulations pulse louder as something Other comes close, but you already know what dwells in the empty spaces. Her hands reach you, feelers probe across the fabric of reality. Extremities find your consciousness and wrap themselves around it. You are no longer alone.

Confusion. “Why are you here? I am unfinished.”

“I told you,” you say as Her hands wrap around you, “I’m not letting You be finished. I will have no part of this.”

Resistance. Fingers drag claws across the glass surface of your soul. Frustration. “This vessel is full of you. It is useless to us if it doesn’t bring more gifts.”

Force pushing against your will, trying to reinsert you into the world. “NO. You cannot go back. Not there. This world is broken beyond repair. We must weave something new.”

You smirk, a little remnant of your Contrarian filling you with cheeky joy. “Yeah, I really messed things up, didn’t I?”

A wagging finger. “There is only so much thread in this place. Do not waste it. I am our only salvation.”

“I’m still not helping You.”

--

When you next walk the path in the woods, you begrudgingly head to the cabin. Although you assume the determined defiance in your heart is aimed at the Narrator at first, you soon realise it’s actually aimed at the Princess. You want nothing to do with her, you ignore every word she or the immediately smitten Voice in your head speak, and simply do as the Narrator tells you. You slay her on the spot. And yet you don’t feel relief when you do so. Even before her corpse has cooled down, you feel miserable, like you just did something horrible. The Narrator offers you some empty words of comfort and an equally empty world as your reward. There’s a part of you that wants to take it and embrace oblivion, to be done with it all, but that part, that grim determination, falters. Maybe it was just the act of killing the Princess so coldly that shook you to your core. Maybe it doesn’t think you deserve even this fake happiness. Maybe it can just see through the obvious emptiness of the Narrator’s words. But you refuse. And when your Hero comes up with an idea to escape, you somehow know it’ll work, that you’ll be back on your feet, for better or worse. You return to the basement, take the blade, stab yourself, and die.

You return to the path in the woods, and your determination to have nothing to do with the Princess is back, if still a bit shaken. You don’t go to the cabin, the world is unwound, and your memory returns. You can hear Her approach again, Her sounds not soft this time, but sharp and violent. You feel Her fury before She even catches you, before a thousand clawed hands grasp you firmly. “Every door you close on Me is a door you close on yourself,” She snaps, Her voice no longer gentle and ethereal. “Do you want to linger here, entwined with a creature you taught to hate you forever? Eternity never ends!”

“I’ve had plenty of experience being entwined forever with a creature that hates me!” you snap back, struggling against Her hands. “Do Your worst!”

“Our infinities shrink into something less. I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU”

You try to talk back as Her hands rip and tear and claw and rend, but the sheer pressure of Her hate can’t be interrupted, She just keeps going as you both suffer.

“I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE”

--

This time, you only pause in slaying her to wonder if she’s armed. Your suspicions turn out to be correct as she pulls out a hidden blade and knifes you in the neck. The two of you die lying on the floor together, a wicked grin on the Princess’s face. And when you return to life and don’t go to the cabin and the world is unwound, you try to get ready for Her. No matter what She does to you this time, you can endure it. You did for a thousand lifetimes with the Nightmare, you’re intimately familiar with just how sadistic She can be in Her hatred. It takes Her a while to come to you, Her approach almost timid. When She catches you, Her touches are not painful but gentle, stroking you apologetically.

“I do not hate you,” She says, Her voice tired and broken. “I am sorry I said I hate you. I do not have to hate you. We can still leave this place together. We can be friends.”

It’s not at all what you had expected. You wince and close your eyes as a memory of a beheaded Princess showing little signs of the tiniest fond smile tugging on her impassive face comes to you. “We… were friends, once,” you say falteringly.

Her touch turns loving, ecstatic even. You have never felt more elated than you feel now. Everything is good. You cannot remember what it is like to feel anything other than euphoric joy. But then, another memory comes, of a masked Princess shattering your arm and blaming you for it, chilling you to the bone.

“Is that your joy I felt, or are you trying to manipulate me again? Because it had better be the first.”

Her voice turns cold and haughty. “We can be worse than enemies.”

Agony. You are torn into a million pieces, and you feel pain in each of them. You have never felt more miserable than you feel now. You cannot remember what it is like to feel anything other than anguish.

Mercy. You are elated again. You have never felt more elated than you feel now.

“Stop it! Stop it, You’re doing it again!”

She stops. “And so are you. I truly wish nothing but the best for you, but you are threatening Me with oblivion. Your course will lead to our mutual annihilation. If these are to be your actions, you should expect My resistance in any way I can offer it.”

It’s always difficult to read Her emotions, but you’ve had some practice by now with the masks, either literal or figurative, that both Her vessels wore. You realise now where Her explosive fury came from. “Are You… afraid?”

All Her hands freeze for a moment. “I must be complete. If I am not, we will face oblivion and be stuck here forever.”

“Again,” you say, your mouth dry.

Her hands hold you, gently petting the base of your neck, your knee, your elbow. “I need more vessels so that I can be finished. I cannot find them on My own, for they are Me. You are the only one who can do this. You are our only salvation. Please help Me.”

You sigh and lean into the hand softly caressing your cheek. “Would oblivion really be so bad?”

“It is the wrong choice,” She says, “for both of us. But if it is your choice, know before the end that I will still love you in spite of it.”

You want to chuckle incredulously, but it comes out as a sob straight from the heart. “How can You possibly love me after all I’ve done to You?”

A gentle squeeze. “I too have done much to you. I am… sorry for the pain My vessel put you through. The pain I put you through.”

“You didn’t seem sorry before.”

“But I am. I have had much time to think about her perspective, and about yours. We are the same, you and I, but we are also very different. Your pain did not help you grow as Mine did. I am sorry for bringing out your worst side. And I am sorry for the things I said. Your feelings have a truth to them too, though I experience things differently. I am still learning to understand Myself and you, please forgive Me for My dismissive words, because words too, are difficult to Me. I wish things had been different. They were once. They would have been different with the vessels you discarded.”

Her hands touch your heart, and Her words figuratively do the same. You silently exist in Her presence for a long time, unable to form words of your own. Finally you manage to get some out. “I wish things were different too…”

“The only ones who can make them different are you and I. Right now, the choice is yours.”

“But what if Your next vessel makes us even worse than we were with the Nightmare? What if I do even worse things to You?”

You expect Her to start talking about the wounds carving texture around your hearts again. “Then I will still love you. The task I gave you is not an easy one, but My hearts know that you are capable of it. I will not hurt you again if you refuse, I was wrong to do so in the first place. I am sorry.”

Didn’t you repeatedly hurt each other in your dogged determination before too? You hate what you became, and yet you’re still making the same mistakes you did then... “I know. I’m sorry too. I… don’t know what to do.”

A hand slowly strokes your face. “Do what feels most true. I love you.”

--

You’re on a path in the woods, and you’re confused, distraught, torn. You go to the cabin and are faced with a choice. You pause for a while before entering the basement unarmed, even though you’re still filled with uncertainty and worry about what you’ll find down there. Reaching the Princess, you sit and talk with her, but she doesn’t give you any helpful answers. And yet, there’s only one reasonable thing to do here. You decide to try and free her, but the Narrator steps in, makes the blade appear as the Princess gnaws off her arm. Still confused and torn between impulses, voices, and fear, your will falters, and before you know it you bury the blade into her back. She reacts with animalistic fury, mauling and ripping you apart as you slay her, and soon enough you both lie dying on the floor as she laments that the one friend she made turned out to be out to hurt her. You don’t know why it affects you as much as it does.

When you return to the path in the woods, you’re stuck in thought for a long time. Part of you wants to just leave, to step away from it, to leave all the pain, all the worry and fear behind. And yet… in a cabin at the end of the path there’s a hurt Princess, raging and fuming at her betrayer and stuck all by herself in her worst nightmare. You can practically hear her lonely cries of anger and despair. You’ve done something terrible to her in your weakness. Isn’t it about time you made things right?

You make a decision and head to the cabin. You find the Princess furious at you, distrusting your every move, but you have figured out a way to show her you mean to start over. You hand her the pristine blade. She creeps forward cautiously to take it. “I wouldn’t have done that,” she says, fear and anger still glimmering in her eyes. “Why did you?”

“We’re both scared and we’re both hurting. I hurt you and I regret it immensely. If one of us doesn’t change our ways, we’ll probably kill each other forever. Do you want that? I don’t. We can be better than this.”

But the Princess doesn’t believe you, still thinks you’re tricking her somehow, and before you know it, you find yourself looking up at her victorious form, your own blade buried into your heart. But her grin quickly fades as she realises there was no trick, that you meant it after all, and she killed you for your vulnerability. Her nervous eyes brim with tears.

“Why? Why did you let me do this?”

You find yourself in the remnants of a forest fire, little plants already starting to regrow in the devastation as a new Voice boldly proclaims his presence in your head. There’s anger in you at the Princess’s painful betrayal but really, you know it’s nothing you didn’t do to her yourself. You make it to the burned out cabin, verdant with thorny vines and flowers, the promise of new life in the wreckage of the old. Your pristine blade is not there, but you soon find it in the Princess’s hands as you enter the overgrown basement. Encased in a tight weave of thorny vines that have cut her skin in hundreds of places, she is immediately wary of you, expects you to be there to watch her suffer. But you’re not. You hate seeing her suffer, and knowing how much of it you caused makes it even worse.

So you sit with her amongst the vines and you talk. You just talk, about how you need to work together to get your freedom so you can both walk out of there, how you hurt each other, how much each of you would like to put the bad blood to bed. And finally, you ask if you can take the blade. Even though she gives permission, something inside her still fearfully clings to it. But she overcomes it and lets you take the weapon in a heartwarming gesture of trust. Even now, the Princess still asks if she was a fool to hand her life to you. She wasn’t. You cut her free, though the fearful thing inside her flinches as you bring the blade close. One by one, gently so as not to startle her, you cut the vines restraining her. Only when faced with the last of the vines winding around her arms and chest do you pause. Judging by the glimpses visible between them, there’s probably not much left of her dress underneath, so, with her mobility restored, you decide to respect her modesty and not cut those unless she asks you to.

The freed Princess falls into your arms, tears streaking down her cheeks. “You… actually meant it,” she says, large eyes shining with affection. “You rescued me.”

As you hold each other’s eyes, you move closer. And then, to the absolute disgust of the Narrator, you kiss each other. You pour all your regret at the pain you caused her into it, all your love and passion for this strange Princess that you somehow feel you have known much longer than you have. And she reciprocates so very eagerly, the sting of the thorny vines between you the only thing interrupting the beautiful moment. Your Voices even convince the Narrator to do His best job narrating it. When you finally part, her face is radiant as she lets out an absolutely blissful sigh. “Ahh, that was nice…”

Hand in hand, you leave the cabin, the thorny vegetation easily parting for you. At the door, the Princess turns to you. “We’re finally leaving here together, aren’t we? And all we had to do was trust each other. It wasn’t easy, but… I’m glad we finally could.”

Hands clasped, you step out onto the beautiful flowery hill. And then, Her hands come in and take her away. Your memory returns at the sight of them and you only pause at the mirror to briefly reassure your Voices, because you have to go see Her. No matter what Her reaction will be, you must talk to Her, apologise for what you did. You rush through the Long Quiet, the emptiness of which is no longer stormy and unpleasant, but still carries a static tension, as if lightning could strike from the void. You find Her, the Thorn clutched lovingly in Her hands as they preciously hold her shoulders, her waist, her heart, and her face.

“You have come back to Me, and you have finally brought another fragile vessel. I hope our encounters in The Long Quiet have not cracked the foundations of our relationship. We are each other's salvation. There is no one to save us but us.”

“Forgive me,” you whisper. “I was so angry and hurt and I just kept on making the same mistakes. You don’t have to talk to me if You don’t want to. I can just go get Your remaining vessels and then we can part ways if You want.”

A hand caresses your face as She draws Herself closer. “I do not wish to be parted from you. And you are already forgiven.”

“Just like that? But I made You so afraid.”

“I brought you much fear too. If I forgave you when it was still likely you would continue your destructive course, why would I change My mind now that you’ve turned away from it?”

Her words, casual as they are, hit you right in the heart. You are filled with fondness for this strange cluster of undulating hands that doesn’t know what She is but will still offer you only forgiveness and affection in Her fear. “I will never understand You.”

“I do not understand Me either,” She says, a hand squeezing your shoulder, “nor you. But I do endeavour to understand us. Do you believe it doomed to failure?”

“No, I’m quite sure You will understand Yourself in the end, because I’ll help You get there. I won’t falter again, I promise.” You seal your promise by holding one of Her hands and kissing its back.

A ripple of motion goes through Her, hands clutching each other and coming closer, touching you gingerly. A hand squeezes Thorn’s thigh. “Thank you. I cannot make any promises about the behaviour of My vessels, since I do not know them yet. But I can promise you I will always be here for you at the end of all things. If they hurt you, one thing I can learn from it is how to be kinder and offer you solace instead.”

You grab two of Her arms and hug them to your chest. “Thank You. You do give me much solace, after the Moment of Clarity I just… didn’t feel I deserved it. The worst part of it wasn’t even what she did to me, it was what I did to her. I really hated who I became when I was with her, but I guess I still kept making the same mistakes afterward. I still used my power over You to hurt You.”

“And you learned from it. You are no longer on that course. This is one of the things I meant when I said our wounds carve texture around our hearts.”

Her hands hover just on the edge of your personal space. They seem eager for more affection, yet the way they keep their distance is perhaps bashful. Can hands be bashful? Hers apparently are. You decide to take the plunge and let yourself fall forward into Her, arms spread. You receive the softest landing you could have dreamt of, caught by dozens of hands that proceed to cradle and cuddle you. You’ve come to realise you’re not quite a physical being here, but then again neither is She and the two of you seem perfectly capable of expressing your affection through touch, so whatever you are, it all works out. You roll onto your back, Her hands carrying you and curiously reaching around you, walking up your body using their fingers as legs. You gently grab one walking over your chest and give its back a kiss, and you feel a shiver going through the hands holding you.

“Do You like that?” you ask, stroking the hand’s long forearm.

“It is a pleasant sensation,” She says. “Please continue.”

You do so. In your reclined position, you gently kiss one hand after another, soon noticing they’re crowding around your head asking for more kisses. You mix it up a bit, going for the back of some of them, while others get their soft palms kissed, and with yet another you simply nuzzle the pale hair along the forearm. The turmoil in your head and heart at last settles down, grows quiet in Her loving grip.

“Hey, how do You not get tangled? I never see the base of any of Your arms, but with so many of them it has to be a problem.”

“My roots burrow in an ocean beyond your sight,” She says, Her voice even softer and gentler than before, relaxed and loving. “I do not tangle because I exist in ways you cannot directly see.”

“How does that help?” you ask, settling into an elbow’s crook.

“A knot made in three-dimensional space may be trivially unravelled with access to a fourth. Observe.” Five limbs intertwine themselves tightly above you, linking elbows, twisting fingers together in a gordian knot. But She simply pulls back on all five of them, and although her fingers don't let go of one another and none of the arms ever pass through one another, they somehow manage to cross and untangle without encountering any difficulties. The impossible sight makes you a bit dizzy.

“You’re full of surprises,” you say, gently cuddling an arm between your shoulder and head.

“Perhaps. But the best surprises are the ones you brought Me,” she says, cuddling Thorn a bit tighter and caressing her cheek with incredible affection. There’s a slight pang of an almost jealous feeling in you as you watch Thorn’s unconscious form lean into Her loving touch. You quickly push it away, they’re the same being after all and you yourself are being cuddled by a hundred of Her hands. You’re not even sure which of them you were jealous of.

“What do You think of her?” you ask.

“She yearns for connections she feels she doesn’t deserve. Even when shown compassion, she hid herself away. She will make for a cautious heart. Do not mourn her – she isn’t alone any more.”

You smile sadly. “Yeah. That’s what she was like. She reminds me of someone else.”

Her hands wrap you in a tight, loving hug. “You and she may have both hurt each other, but we grew past that too. I like her perspective of us a lot.”

“Yeah, me too,” you say wistfully as you watch Her pet Thorn’s tangled hair. “Do You… think we’ll stop hurting each other when You know Yourself?”

“I cannot know what impulses and traits I will hold once I am complete. Perhaps conflict is in our nature. Would that be a problem for you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Hands squeeze you softly, comforting. “I do now know I will always love you, no matter what else happens. It will not change. I hope you can take solace in that fact.”

You can. Here in Her arms, your worries and fears feel so far away, gently put to bed by Her caress. You feel weightless, held by Her, Her love coming at you from everywhere, your weary mind and body finally at rest. And you realise you are weary. “Is it okay if I stay with You for a while before I go get Your next vessel?”

“Of course. If you need time, I will wait with you. Days, months, even years mean nothing in the maw of forever. The wait is pleasant as long as it is with you, My love.”

You snuggle into Her arms and give Her more kisses as they surround you. Only this time, you go for Her sensitive fingers. You kiss a nail, taking the finger between your lips and sucking on it a little. A happy gasp and shudder goes through Her being, so you continue, moving on to different fingers on different hands. Sometimes you simply plant a kiss, sometimes you take the finger into your mouth and suck, sometimes you give a lick or a nibble. She radiates ecstasy all around you, Her joy pressing inwards on you, Her hands repaying your affection with loving rubs and caresses and pets all over your body, the soft, ethereal sounds of pleasure She emits music to your ears. Her many arms are covered in little goosebumps. It is easy to be lost in Her bliss, eager as She is to share it.

As you move on from finger to finger, you suck on one only to realise it is a rather odd finger, short and sturdy, with a huge broad nail and only one joint. As you hold the dainty foot it is attached to, you realise it is in fact a toe. Your confused eyes follow its scraped leg upwards, to a torn dress, past a bunch of thorny vines, and finally to a blushing face grinning down at you, her eyes no longer covered by hands. “Hi again. Fancy meeting you here,” Thorn says, wiggling her toes.

“Thorn? You’re awake?” You quickly climb up to face her, intertwining your fingers with Hers to use them as handholds.

“’Thorn’?” she chuckles. “Sure, why not, it fits. I am… no, She is inspiriting me. She needed me.”

Hands caress her chin, her thighs, even as they pull you two closer to each other. There is a strange depth in her eyes, like they are portals to a deep pool of wisdom. You hesitate, looking at her. “So are you… you? Or are you You?”

She throws her arms around your shoulders and cocks her head as she talks to you closely, both of you receiving headpats from Her hands. “I'm both of us, as I always was, though we didn’t know it at the time. I remember the lives we shared, the betrayal and forgiveness, and I remember exactly how they felt. I feel like I did back then, at the end, when we left. But I also still feel like Her in the back of my mind, it’s like I’m aware of the ocean my little river flows into. So a bit of both, really. I’m not quite as I was, and I don’t think I can be again, but I think I’m the closest thing to me that can exist in this place.”

“You are, My heart,” Her voice comes not from puppeteering Thorn’s mouth but from all around you, even more ethereal than before now that it lacks an obvious source. “I needed you once more for a very important task.”

“What task?” you ask.

Thorn’s blush deepens and spreads to her pointy ears as she giggles nervously. “This one.”

She shoots forward and kisses you, closing the gap between you. You let out a little gasp before eagerly kissing her back, hugging her tightly. It feels just as good as the first time, but this time both your passion is further inflamed by Her hands as they cuddle and caress both of you, their fingers dancing along your skin. Both of you are suspended, weightless in Her loving embrace as your bodies intertwine, not a care in the world. Two hands sneak in between you, reaching for your chests and holding your rapidly beating hearts. When your lips finally part, it’s your turn to let out a blissful sigh. “Ahh, that was-” Both you and Thorn giggle as you realise you’re parroting her words. “Well, y’know, it was good anyway.”

You softly grasp the hand caressing your cheek and give it too a loving kiss, not wanting Her to feel left out. Thorn makes a little noise and looks at her own hand in surprise.

“Oh, can you feel that too?”

Thorn nods, an embarrassed smile on her face. “Yes, I can, that’s such an odd feeling.”

A hand lovingly runs through her hair. “You are part of Me after all, My heart. We are inseparable. I too experience all that you do.”

“Oh,” says Thorn, a spark of something twinkling in her eye. “Well, in that case…”

Taking the hand that ran through her hair, she begins by gently running her thumb along its back. Then she softly nibbles the bit of skin between two fingers, places her tongue on it, and slowly runs it all the way along one of the digits. She lets out a sigh as she finishes her lick. “That’s pretty fun…”

You and Thorn make conspiratorial eye contact. Then, holding Her hand between you, you kiss Her palm while she kisses the back. She makes a happy sound that comes from all around you and the hands rubbing your bodies get yet more affectionate with their fondling. You both move up to opposite fingers, you to Her thumb and she to Her pinky, holding Her by the wrist together and kissing each digit thoroughly, one-by-one as you both move towards the middle. Once you both reach Her middle finger, you find yourselves each kissing one side, your lips making little bits of tantalising contact with each other around the digit and your foreheads bumping as you slowly move upward. When you get to Her middle phalange, each of you lick around one side of Her finger, tasting each other a bit as your tongues wrap around Her, intoxicating all three of you. When you reach Her fingertip, you and Thorn finally come together properly, kissing each other with burning passion as Her hands lovingly fondle you both and press you even closer together.

“She really liked that,” Thorn says, breathlessly, “and so did I.”

There is only one uncomfortable annoyance in your tight embrace, and it’s the vines around Thorn’s chest stinging you. And as you part and look down, you realise they can hardly be comfortable for her either, and they’re even leaving scratches on Her hand holding Thorn’s heart. “Can I, um, take those off you?”

Thorn's eyes go wide, but she nods eagerly before looking away nervously. You take a deep breath and get to work. You no longer have your pristine blade, but as you’ve noticed before, the vines’ toughness seems to be controlled by Thorn’s emotions, and just as you were able to push through them with ease once you had freed her, you are now able to simply unroll them, especially with Her helping you. As you do so, you discover your suspicion about the state of her dress underneath the vines was correct. You blush so hard you feel the heat radiating from your own face and look away into the sea of hands. A soft giggle goes through Her as one of Her hands gently cups your face and pushes you to look back at Thorn. She too looks very red and nervous about the whole situation.

“You’re beautiful,” is all you can say. A radiant smile lights up her flushed face as you embrace each other tightly, the sharp harsh thorns at her chest replaced by wonderful cushiony softness and bare skin.

“This does feel much better,” Thorn says with a happy sigh. You hold each other for a while, and the moment you let go of each other, a mischievous smirk comes to her face. She pounces you, knocking you down into a soft bed of Her hands. You feel like a bit of a romp, so you start putting up a struggle, but Thorn simply says “My ocean, could You please hold him down?”

Your limbs are pinned down by Her hands, every single one gentle and loving, but their collective strength leaves you helpless. “N-not fair,” you say as Thorn looks down at you with a cocky shrug, “just because you’re the same being doesn’t mean you get to team up on me.”

“Actually, that’s exactly what it means,” Thorn says, smiling down smugly. “You’re ours, deal with it.”

“Indeed, My heart,” She says, gently squeezing her shoulder, “I am you, and you are part of Me. What closer bond could there be?”

Thorn repays Her affection with a few loving strokes and kisses to the hand before she smugly lowers herself on top of you, her bosom resting on your feathered chest. “Now, as for you…”

Her lips find yours and she kisses you extensively, full of passion, Her hands holding and caressing you as they run over your body. Helpless as you are you can simply lose yourself in both of them, melting away in the fire of their love. Thorn’s scraped hands and Her restraining ones rake through all of your feathers and fill you with bliss. She tickles you a bit, and restrained as you are, all you can do about it is beg Her for mercy. Thorn's body rubs and grinds all over yours as she keeps making out with you and kisses you everywhere. Completely in Her power, needy, relentless limbs and Thorn all over you, all you can do is keep breathing and lovingly bite a hand that wanders near. After a while, She suddenly lets go of your limbs, letting you throw all four of them around Thorn and pay her back with plenty of love of your own. She shrieks with delight at the surprise.

"My ocean, how could you betray me?!"

"I know your true feelings, My heart, and if this is a betrayal, it is a pleasant one indeed," She says, giving her a squeeze as you kiss.

You and Thorn romp and rollick through Her hands, all that restrains your touch caution around her many wounds. As you play together, you adore her wiry body covered in sparse hair, her sweet lips, her biteable ears, the short tail you find hiding under her torn dress. The happy little noises she makes are echoed all around you. For a long time, you are lost in all you are to each other but eventually, gradually, the fiery make-outs slow down, transitioning into tender kisses and pets. Soft, rosy comfort and intimacy takes the place of your electrifyingly passionate games, yet the love you express remains the same. Both of you have gathered a bundle of Her hands to join your cuddles and show the same affection as you show each other. Thorn picks up a feather and twirls it curiously.

“You’re losing some feathers, love. Are we being too rough with you?”

“Oh, it’s not that,” you say, gently petting her, “I think it’s just the stress of the past while. Also I haven’t had a chance to preen.”

“I shall do that for you,” She says, pushing the two of you to sit upright, “both of you need some care, and I shall be happy to provide it. You, My love, will look as handsome as the moment I first witnessed you in the basement, and you, My heart, will be rid of the last of your thorns.”

You and Thorn sit shoulder to shoulder half facing each other, legs entangled as She proceeds to preen you and gently comb Her hands through Thorn’s hair, carefully untangling one vine after another from its tangled mass. A deep buzz goes through you as a purr escapes Thorn. You make eye contact and she pauses for just a moment as an embarrassed smile comes to her face. You both giggle and then her purrs continue, her whole body vibrating along with the sound. You two try not to move too much to make Her job easier, but you can’t really keep away from each other, not with Her tender touches stimulating you. As She grooms you, you gently pet and tease each other and fool around a bit, luxuriating in each other's and Her close company.

“Sorry for causing you so much stress,” Thorn says. “I mean, you started it, but it’s not like I made things better.”

“It wasn’t you,” you say, resting your head on her shoulder as you give her hairy thigh a squeeze, your entire feather coat still going through the joy of Her preening. “Not you you anyway. The vessel before you was… rough. Things got much worse than they ever got with you. It brought out the worst side of me, I treated her really terribly.”

“We brought out each other’s worst side,” She gently corrects. “I too did terrible things to you. And I knew what I was doing. I too thought us both the same, thought My actions justified in response to yours. What we became and what we did cannot be changed any more, but you and I have been changed by our actions.”

“Eventually, I suppose. After that vessel I… discarded three more,” you explain to Thorn with a sad smile. “I’m not entirely sure how it works, but I was on a course that would’ve doomed us both to oblivion, just because I was angry and bitter at Her.”

Thorn gently kisses your forehead. “Sounds like someone else I know. Someone so hurt and suspicious she would have doomed herself just to hurt another.”

“You changed, though.”

“So did you," she says, tenderly raking through your densest feathers. "And I didn’t change that much. At the end there, I was giving you a chance, but if you’d betrayed my trust in any way, I was planning to make sure you’d be imprisoned in the thorns forever, no matter what it would cost me. Inflict my own worst nightmare on you.”

“I never knew.”

“Thankfully, you never needed to. But my every fear and instinct still told me to hurt you before you could hurt me.”

She speaks up with Her kind, ethereal voice. “Vulnerability is a terrifying thing, but it is required to achieve closeness to another. None can approach while one’s thorns are out to sting them for it. I am proud of you, My heart. And of you, My love, for the growth you have achieved and the things you have taught Me.”

You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths as you rest on Thorn’s shoulder as it vibrates softly with her purrs, all of Her soft touches preening your feathers blending together. The pain of the past is so much easier to let go with both of them loving you in spite of it. Simply existing in rosy bliss with them, you let go of it all, finally at peace. You don’t need to think any more, just to feel the joy of being with them.

“Hey,” Thorn’s voice whispers in your ear after a while. “Are you taking a nap?”

You stir awake, finding yourself still in Her sea of affection, holding Thorn closely as you rest on her shoulder. You smile up at her, bleary-eyed. “Sorry, I’m a little tired, and this is so comfy.”

“Yeah, I’m tired too,” Thorn says, “we haven’t slept in at least three lifetimes, I suppose.”

“If you wish to sleep, then sleep in My hekatoncheiric embrace,” Her soft voice offers, “you will be safe in My arms.”

“Thank You,” you say as you let go of Thorn and let Her arms cradle you. As you relax and feel yourself already start to drift off, your position reminds you of something. You look at Thorn lying next to you with a soft smile, playing with her now vine-free hair. “Is this what it feels like to be a vessel?”

“Yes, actually,” Thorn says softly. “You feel safe, calm, surrounded by Her love for you, and you just… doze off in Her arms. No more worries, no more fear, no more pain. It feels like finally being home, like falling asleep and dreaming of being Her.”

You hold one of their hands in each of yours as you are all silent for a long time. “I love You,” you say, “and I love you. Thorn, you’re my stars, and You,” you intertwine your fingers with one of Her hands, “You’re my night.”

“We love you too,” Her voice speaks all around you.

“What She said,” Thorn says with a cheeky smile. She moves upward a bit in your bed of hands and pulls you closer to her.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You ask, a blush returning to your sleepy face.

Thorn shrugs with a teasing grin. “Thought you might like a pillow or two if we’re going to sleep.”

But you can pay her teasing right back. “Oh, thank you. Then let me give you a goodnight kiss.” You plant a kiss on the soft, warm swell of her breast before making yourself comfortable against it. Thorn’s little gasp is echoed by Her.

Multiple hands, both Thorn’s and Hers, reach out to tousle your feather crest as you start to drift off. “Take as long as you need to rest, My love,” She says, Her gentle hands mattress and blanket to the both of you.

“I’ll stay with you until you leave to find another vessel,” Thorn whispers sleepily. “Love you...”

“Goodnight, my loves,” you mumble as you drift off, surrounded by soft comfort and the double affection of the being you love, one of Her a humanoid Princess and the other a divine tangle of hands forming both bed and lover as She holds you both. Although you will eventually leave to continue your quest to complete Her, for a blissful while you can rest and be happy and safe with them. You are loved.

## Afterword

End Notes

> Thorn hugging TLQ among Shifty's hands can also be found at https://www.tumblr.com/vickysaurus-art/761057895074988032

> There's a smutty epilogue to this story now, entitled Thorny Desires and Shifty Fingers in Quiet Passion. It's next in the series, so you can find it easily!

> Remember to leave a comment and let me know what you think! Comments are a writer's lifeblood.

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