Unknown
Everyone sits around a small table, laughing and smiling. Three slim figures sit in the grass, a distance from the group. One lays in the grass, connected to the universe they were in. The second sits beside her, humoring her foolishness. The third has none of it, standing with his hands stuffed into his pockets, casually watching the group. A little way from the group sits two lovers, sitting in sweet silence. The girl's long black hair blows around her face like a halo, the boy laying in her lap reaching up to brush it behind her ear.
"They are disgusting, the lot of them." Grumbles the man with his hands in his pockets.
"You only say so because your heart is made of ice and coal, if you have a heart." Teases the man on the ground, smiling warmly down at the woman beside him. She rolls her eyes at both men, rolling to her stomach to stare at the two lovers.
"It's sad, they will have to watch their best friend raise their child." She sighs, head falling into her hands.
The boy's hand glitters slightly in the warm sun light, a golden band around his ring finger. His blue eyes lock with the hazel eyes of the dark-skinned woman above him, her slim fingers laced through his brown hair as he cups her cheek. They share a meaningful look, a look sharing the things they feel without the need for words.
"If the two of you are done being teenage love birds, you can join us." Teases the boy's father, Mark. Liam hits his shoulder lightly, smiling warmly at his son. Brett reluctantly stands, helping Keya to her feet. They walk hand in hand to the table, sitting down between the two couples. Conversation is started by Inezze, asking more about the other four. Liam fiddles shyly with his white, knit cardigan. Mark taking his hands and answering the questions for his little spitfire that seemed to have calmed in his age. Brett smiled at his father's, pulling slightly at the somewhat tight collar of his white button-down shirt. Keya dragged her fingers along the beautiful hem of her dress, elegant white stitching making flowers and other designs. She longed to be alive, to stitch such things for her daughter.
"They seem to be getting along fine without your help." The woman laying in the grass spoke aloud, addressing no one in particular. The man standing hummed a response back to her. He had always had a soft spot for this group, those alive and dead. There was a slight rustle in the grass to his right, something whizzing in the wind. His hand lazily lifted from his pocket, catching something the other two couldn't see. The man snapped the head of the arrow off its flimsy stick, turning to glare at the owner of the arrow. He changed his footing, now standing protectively in front of the two people behind him.
"Darn it!" Shouted the red head, tossing her hands into the air in frustration. "I'll get you one of these days." She vowed, pointing a finger at the man. He made no show of emotion towards Artemis.
"I bid her good luck with that." The man on the ground says, wrapping his arms around the woman's waist and pulling her close, protectively. She smiled, looking up at him then the other man.
"I wonder if she's trying to flirt with him again." She says with a small laugh.
"I bid her luck with that too." The man says, kissing her cheek. The man standing does now roll his eyes at the two, glaring at the innocent grass. Artemis comes to join them, surveying the group chatting at the table as she sits down.
"Join us?" She offers to the standing man. He glowers coolly at her, turning his attention away. The woman on the ground smirks, hooking her fingers through the back-belt loops on his pants, pulling hard. He lets out a loud, gurgled noise of surprise, falling back into her open arms, head against her chest as he looks up at her. Some of his perfect hair falling into his eyes.
"That's better." She teases him with a smile, wrapping her arms around his neck, letting her hands rest over top of one another on his stomach. He lets out a huff of air, glaring half heartedly at the women, accepting his fate. The man behind the woman sighs, in blissful peace as he winds his arms around the woman's waist, holding her tightly to his chest as he rests his cheeks against the woman's shoulder. Slowly, he starts to lull off into a sleep. After minutes of silence, soft snores come from his mouth.
"He's asleep, isn't he?" Sighs the man in the woman's arms.
"He didn't sleep well last night." She reminds him of their long night earlier.
"Things seemed to have gotten interesting." Artemis interjects, looking off into the horizon. "Odysseus has joined them with his champion." She informs the others.
"Interesting." The woman says with a sweet, knowing smile.
"You three should rest, I will watch over them." Artemis tells them, nodding her head to the group at the table. The woman smiles warmly, accepting this offer as the weight of their duties to the universe began to also drag her consciousness into sleep.
"Thank you, Artemis." The woman says with the same warm smile. The man in her arms standing and shaking the man behind her awake. He grumbles out a string of unintelligent words at the other man, sighing into her shoulder. The man now standing offers the woman his hands, pulling her up from the ground and into his chest. She smiles at him, resting her tired head on his shoulder as he brushes the last remaining bits of grass from her flowing ocean dress.
"For now, we will rest, properly." The man glares at the other who is standing up from the ground slowly. "Tomorrow we can worry more about fixing the mistakes of the previous Elder God's." He speaks more to himself then the others, his eyes moving from the face of the woman to the deeply coloured hair of one of the men at the table.
Florence.
He sits with his arm wrapped around Inezze's shoulders, smiling and placing kisses along her face. He's been here a long while, waiting for his lover to join him. He was a puzzle piece that just wouldn't fit into this puzzle no matter how he was manoeuvred. His daughter is no different. Why wouldn't she be? They existed to give him a headache is what he believed. Time passed differently here. A moment here was hours in regular time amongst the land of the living.
The trio left, away to a place they called home. The land of the gods. A small home was off to the side, away from the lively town the others lived in. The first man, the one who sat in the grass went off straight to the bed, undressing from his strange suit and falling into the bed. The woman placed a hand over the other man's chest, just over where his heart should be beating.
"Don't stay up too long." She told more than asked him, getting onto her toes to place a light kiss to his cheek. She follows the other man, changing and crawling in beside him. The man sighs, taking off his suit jacket, undoing the top buttons of his shirt. He goes into a small office, the place covered in scattered pages and different coloured strings, a way for the trio to plan and mark out everything that had happened and would potentially happen. He worked for a while, doing the same thing as always. Then he heard a clatter.
The woman had stood up from bed after a couple hours of rest. She went to the kitchen, going to grab a midnight drink. However, someone waited for her there. Something hit against her head, her mind going foggy as she fell to the ground.
"Good evening, Fatum." The man smirked down at her as she fell into unconsciousness. The man came rushing out of his office, watching in horror as a familiar face tossed the woman over his shoulder, intending to leave with her.
"Florence." He breathed, fear gripping his stomach as he noticed the deep crimson blood on the floor, staining the woman's long blonde hair.
"Yes, a version of him at least." The man holding Fatum smirked. "I think I'll be keeping this lovely beauty." He refers to Fatum. "I can't help but wonder what the body of an Elder god looks like, feels like." He was purposely taunting the god before him. "What pleasure her body will give." This was when the man snapped, his anger taking hold as he lunged for Florence. Florence managed to be faster, waving his hand so blue flames engulfed his body, teleporting him away from the realm of the gods, back to his hiding place with the woman.
"I'll kill him." The man growls, smashing his clenched fists into the dirt under him. A hand touches his shoulder, some of his burning anger subsiding.
"What happened?" Asked the man who was asleep soundly only moments ago. The crash and chill of the loss of his sleeping partner had woken him. When the man on the ground didn't answer he helped him to his feet, pressing further. "What happened, Moarte?" His voice grew harder, pressing for answers.
"The evil version of Florence from the parallel reality took Fatum." Moarte growled, fists clenching tightly as his anger boiled. Fear swiftly set into the man as he rushed back into the house, looking to the small bit of blood on the floor. He collapsed to his knees in the doorway of the kitchen, tears wetting his eyes, staining hot trails down his round cheeks. Moarte comes behind him, crouching down to place his hand on the man's shoulder. Instantly, he turns, wrapping his arms tightly around Moarte's chest, crying into his chest. Moarte weaves his arms around the man, one around his shoulders the other angling his hand to grip his hair. The same way he'd seen Fatum comforting the man when he was upset. "We will get her back; this I swear to you Endring."