'Be Near Me,' chapter 3
Apr. 26th, 2010 02:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivendellroseFandom: Hellboy (movies)
Characters: Abe Sapien, Nuala, Hellboy, Liz Sherman, Nuada, and a small cast of OCs.
Timeline: post-movie-2 AU.
Summary: The trouble with getting what you want is that something unexpected almost inevitably comes out of it. If Abe actually reads fairy tales, he really should know better.
Title: Be Near Me
Warnings: Does the passage of 13 years count as something to be warned for? If so, then... um... temporal warning?
Rating: Teen, or so.
Pairing: Abe/Nuala
Thanks: To![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tavern_wench1 for the world's most awesome red-pen-of-doom beta job on an almost-complete draft after NaNoWriMo, and maymargaret, for giving me the seed of the idea late one night in a pub, working out the general outline with me on a walk around the lake, and generally cheerleading and never letting me forget this damned thing from the other side of the globe.
Link to previous chapter: 1 - 2
Thirteen, Abe knew, was a number of some significance in folklore and mythology. Theories on this seemed mostly to revolve around the number of lunar months in a year, but the important thing to him was not the reason for the significance so much as the fact that it had significance. Specifically, that fact meant that it was just possible that Nuala might choose the children’s thirteenth birthday to send a message to them, or perhaps even to find time for a short visit. It was foolish to think this way, of course - he’d been equally hopeful on their third, fifth, seventh, and ninth birthdays - there was something about odd numbers in mythology, apparently - with not the slightest sign from her. But he couldn’t seem to quite give up hope... however improbable the outcome of that hope now appeared.
Fortunately he had a distraction on the night before the children’s birthday - he, Red, and Liz, along with several of their associates, were called out to deal with a haunting at an old farmhouse in rural New Hampshire, only returning well after nightfall.
“Have a beer with us?” Red offered, his arm slung casually around Liz’s waist as they tramped back into headquarters from the loading bay.
“I... had better not.”
“Birthday excitement tomorrow, right?” Liz smiled. “The twins have been waiting all week to give them all their presents. I took them shopping last weekend - it was hell on wheels getting something they both agreed on for all five, but I think we got it in the end.”
“And... well...” Abe glanced at the clock on the wall. Nearly midnight. If she were to come, it would be around this time, he thought. First because it was a magical time, and second because it would be easiest for her to slip unnoticed through the edges of the Human world at this time of night. “I thought perhaps... that is, it’s possible...”
Liz frowned, and bit her lip. “Abe... at some point, don’t you think it’s more likely that she’s just... not coming?”
Abe shook his head emphatically. “Nuala said that she would come whenever she was able.”
“Yeah, and it’s been thirteen years. Abe, buddy, it’s time to face facts--”
“If it were Liz, would you stop waiting?” Abe interrupted. “Liz, what if it were Red?”
They sighed, glanced at each other, but didn’t answer for a long moment.
“All I’m saying, Abe, is that you can’t keep waiting forever. She’s got... duties, right?” Red frowned. “She’s a queen. Maybe that means she can’t have the kids around. Maybe that’s why she sent them here.”
“She said that she would come when she was able,” Abe repeated staunchly.
“Thirteen years, Abe. Thirteen. And she hasn’t found time even once? She must be pretty damn busy.”
He walked away, and Liz looked after him for a moment before turning back to Abe with an apologetic expression. “He’s right, you know. You should think about moving on. You don’t deserve someone who can’t even manage to be a part of your life - ornyour kids’ lives - for thirteen years. That’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to you.”
“But--”
“I liked her, too, Abe, and I’m sure she meant well, to begin with, but...” Liz shrugged. “One thing I know when it comes to relationships - it’s not what people say that matters. It’s what they do. She said she’d come back, sure, but in all this time... You have to think, if she really wanted to - if it really mattered to her, like it would matter to you if the situation was reversed, she’d be with you. I know nothing would keep Red or me away from the kids, and I know nothing would keep you away from either them or her, if you were in her place. Maybe... maybe Elves are just different, that way. I don’t know. But you have to think of what’s best for you, and for them.” She squeezed his shoulder lightly. “Eve over in forensics has had her eye on you for months, you know. She’s nice, and smart, and she loves the kids.”
“I know.” He thought of the technician - of her dark eyes and her black curls forever trying to burst out of the braid she wore them in at work, and the way she tutored the children in biology and chemistry. He’d walked into the lab one day to retrieve Niamh and Aodh after a particularly long study session had made them late for dinner, and found her laughing and playing cards with them both. She’d taught them to play rummy, and invited them to stay overnight at her house any time they wanted, and meet her own fifteen year-old daughter. He hadn’t yet allowed them to take her up on it, even though Niamh in particular begged at least once a week. ’You never let us go out!’ she’d shouted, the last time he refused. ’Don’t you trust her? You work with her - it’s not like we wouldn’t be safe!’
He didn’t know how to tell her that he wasn’t afraid of Eve letting their secret out, or even that her daughter might inadvertantly get them into trouble - he trusted that the teenaged child of someone in the BPRD was probably well enough aware that there were secrets that couldn’t be shared around with school friends. He was afraid of Eve, if he was honest. Of the way she smiled at him while they worked together, the way her hand sometimes lingered on his too long for it to be mere accident. Of the way he had once glanced at her computer when she’d left it unattended and found it open to a page describing the mating habits of tropical fish. He knew it was prudish of him, but he found the thought frankly a bit horrifying.
“Just think about it, okay?” Liz asked softly. “Not necessarily Eve, just... just someone. Or not even anyone, if you don’t want, but... I just hate to see you like this, Abe. We both do. You’ve got to live your life.” She squeezed his shoulder one last time and then turned off toward the quarters she shared with Red and the twins. A tongue of flame lapped at the backs of her hands, Abe noticed. It was unlike Liz to let her temper get the better of her anymore - it underlined how truly upset she must be about the situation.
When he got back to the library he found the children awake, all five of them arranged around a low table, discussing something in hushed tones. They looked up at him and guiltily went silent.
“What’s going on? You should all be in bed.”
The five children looked at each other. Abe noticed that Alastar, Aedan and Neasa looked a bit nervous, but Aodh and Niamh seemed not the least ill at ease.
“It’s a surprise,” Neasa replied. Her siblings all nodded, with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
“It’s your birthdays tomorrow,” Abe pointed out. “Why should you be planning surprises?”
She rolled her eyes. “If we told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”
“It’s for you, and Red and Liz,” Aodh put in, smiling. “We’ve got something planned for you... but you can’t see it until tomorrow night.”
“At our party,” Aedan agreed. “It won’t be ready until then.”
Abe frowned, suspicious, but... well, the children were cooped up in the Bureau all day, weren’t they? How much mischief could they possibly get into?
“Don’t stay up too late,” he warned them. “I still want you to do your lessons before your party tomorrow.”
“Even on our birthday?” Aodh whined.
“Even on your birthday. Exactly like every other year,” Abe reminded, as sternly as he could. It was hard to keep a firm tone when they were all looking at him so earnestly. And they did work so hard, and not give him half the trouble the twins gave Red and Liz... he’d have to find a way to give them a bit more freedom, now that they were going to be into their teenage years. He had no idea how he could manage... perhaps a private school somewhere? An academy where the strength of their achievements would overcome their strange appearances... He would have to do some research. It wasn’t fair to keep them locked away so closely - it would only stunt their social growth as they grew older, and he did want them to have as normal of lives as possible.
“We won’t be too much later,” Niamh promised when he bent over to kiss her forehead.
“Good. Remember to turn out the lights before you go to bed, please.”
“We will,” Alastar assured him.
Each accepted a kiss in turn (he noted with some amusement that all but Neasa now took it with some chagrin, as though by some magic as the clock neared to midnight they were already beginning to behave like teenagers), and chorused a quick ‘goodnight,’ in response to his. He turned back once as he headed up to his tank and was pleased to see that they were all gathering their things and trooping off toward their bedrooms. They were good kids, he thought, somewhat awkwardly. They’d get by somehow.
* * *
“You don’t think he noticed, do you?” Neasa leaned over her brother’s shoulder as he shut the door to the boys’ room behind them all. Compared to other living quarters in the bureau, like Liz and Hellboy’s, the childrens’ rooms were fairly simple. In the boys’ room, two bunk beds stood against the walls opposing the door - one raised up over over a desk, the other twinned - and posters lined the cement walls.
“Nah.” Aodh pulled her back into the room and shut the door, then locked it. “If he’d noticed, he would have made us show him.”
“Maybe we should have, though...”
“The letter said not to tell him. It said it was a surprise. We’ll tell him when we get back - and he’ll be so happy he won’t even be angry with us for keeping it a secret,” Aedan pointed out. The smallest of the children, he curled up neatly on the edge of his brother’s desk.
“Off,” Alastar grumbled, shoving him. His other hand protectively guarded the lava lamp he kept next to his computer monitor.
“Why? I won’t break anything.”
“That’s not the point. Just get off my desk.”
Aedan rolled his eyes, but dropped off and threw himself into a rolling chair instead. He spun once, and came to a stop facing his siblings. “So, we’re all agreed, then?”
“No.”
Everyone looked at Niamh. She stood with her hands planted on her hips, a defiant gleam in her eyes.
“Why not?”
“She hasn’t been here. Thirteen years, and then all of a sudden we’re all supposed to jump up and go to her, just because she sends us a letter and a cheap little charm?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s real gold...” Alastar held the pendant they’d received up in the light. “And that stone looks like genuine amber.”
“That’s not the point, Al! Is that all it takes to buy us back? A little bit of jewelry and a few nice words written on some parchment? She’s never been around!”
“Like Father always said, she’s busy...”
“So’s he! So are Liz and Red, and Eve, and all the others here. Just because she’s the queen of some dying kingdom under the ground--”
“I’m with Niamh on that, it is pretty lame that she can’t even write to us until today,” Aodh pointed out.
“Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe... maybe there was a war on!” Aedan suggested.
“Don’t you think we would have noticed?” Neasa frowned. “Dad, I mean, and the Bureau. Don’t you think they’d know if there was a war going on right under our feet?”
“The Troll Market’s in Brooklyn, and we don’t even know where the rest of Elf-Land is - maybe the war was in Ireland, or somewhere else in Europe, so we wouldn’t have heard a thing over here. But it would have required all her attention.”
“You’re such a dope, Alastar.” Niamh rolled her eyes. “Even if there was a war, why wouldn’t she say anything to us until now? I just don’t think we should make it that easy for her. She should have to prove to us that she really wants to be a part of our lives again.”
“She’s our mother!” Neasa looked horrified. “She is a part of our lives!”
“Why, because Dad’s always telling us stories about her lands, or about the few days that he actually knew her? Please. Don’t be such a baby.”
“I’m only trying to say--”
“Just stop it, all of you, please!” Alastar raised the letter in one hand, and the pendant in the other. “Let’s not fight. We don’t have much time. The letter says to come just after moonrise, if we’re coming at all. We need to make our decision, and make it quick, or we won’t have a chance. I know mine - I’ve known it since we got the letter. I’m going. Who’s with me?”
Neasa, Aodh, and, with some hesitation, Aedan, all raised their hands. Niamh kept hers folded staunchly under her arms.
“Come on, Niamh. We should all go together.”
“She’s never been there for us. Why should we be there for her?” Niamh scowled, her large dark eyes making the expression look particularly dire. “If you want to go, go. I won’t stop you, and I won’t tell Dad, but I’m not going to be a part of this.” With that, she stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
Inside, the other four children looked solemnly at each other, shrugged in silent mutual agreement, and put on their coats to leave. They slipped out quickly, taking a back route to bypass the library so they wouldn’t wake their father, and then out the service hallway described in their mother’s letter. They could move more quickly outside the building, and sneaked easily past the guards at the Bureau’s gate while they stopped into the guard house for a cup of coffee. The idea of the bureau’s guard-house, of course, was to keep people out - they’d never had to bother much with keeping anyone in, so they didn’t look that way. Still, the deception sat wrong with Neasa, who hesitated just outside the circle of light from the Bureau’s grounds.
“Maybe we should have told Dad...”
“We can’t.” Aodh took her arm, tugging her gently. “You know he’d never let us go.”
“But he could come with us. Then it would be all right, and we could all go.”
“The letter said to go alone.” Aedan frowned, rubbing the side of his neck. “Maybe she wants to surprise him.”
“Or maybe... Maybe they had an argument? Before she left, I mean? Something he didn’t tell us about, and that’s why...” Neasa looked a little guilty just suggesting the idea.
“That’s not how it happened. We would have at least overheard something about it if that was the problem.” Alastar put his arm around his sister’s shoulders, squeezing her softly. “Come on. It’ll be okay - she just wants to see us on our birthday, like she said in the letter. She’s busy with ruling the court, so she can’t come herself, but she still wants to see us. I’ve been thinking about it, and maybe... maybe thirteen is like a coming-of-age sort of thing, for Elves. Maybe that’s why she wants us to come alone, for now.”
Aodh frowned. “What, like a test or something? Some kind of challenge?”
“Maybe.” In the moonlight, Alastar looked almost like a full-elf, himself - he was the tallest of the siblings, and the most pale, with only the softest hints of blue-green stripes on his back, and on his hands. Dressed in a black wool coat as he was now he could nearly pass as Human, but something strange and unearthly seemed to reflect in his eyes in the darkened forest. Neasa looked at Aodh, and saw it there, too - and in Aedan’s eyes as well. Maybe Alastar was right. Maybe thirteen really was a magical age for them, as half-Elves.
“Come on. We took a long time getting out of the building, and the computer said moonrise was only a half hour away.” Aedan held out his hand to Neasa, and this time she nodded and took it, her fears settled. They hurried into the darkness, up the wooded hill, and out into the forest of the national park that bordered, and hid, the Bureau’s headquarters. They slowed down in the forest, hampered by low-hanging branches and roots that tried to trip them, but managed to follow the directions written in the letter out to a clearing on a little hill. A tall, pale figure waited for them at the top.
As they approached, Alastar felt an unspoken worry kindling in his stomach. He stepped ahead of his brothers and sister, and mounted the hill first. “Hello? Who are you?”
The figure turned, revealing a bone-pale face that could almost have been Alastar’s twin, if not for the difference in age and eyes, and the lack of the bluish mottling that marked his own skin. “I am your mother’s brother, nephew. And I’m most pleased that you came.”
Alastar’s heart seemed to skip a beat. “Our uncle? But Father--”
“There has been bad blood between your father and I in the past, but I assure you that it is all behind us, now.” The man smiled, his teeth bright white in the moonlight. “My people cherish children above all things, nephew. Surely even the Humans’ stories of us have taught you that.”
“Of course,” Alastar agreed, somewhat automatically. “I am Alastar. And these are Aedan, Aodh, and Neasa.”
“Only four? I was told to expect five of you...”
“Niamh is the other, she... could not come with us tonight.” Alastar shifted awkwardly and then added, although it was a lie, “She sends her apologies.”
“Hmm. Well. I would much have preferred to bring all of you together, but if that is how it is, that is how it must be, is it not? I am Nuada. Walk with me.” Without waiting for them, he turned and nearly disappeared into the shadows, a white phantom of shape. The four children looked at each other, and then followed. It was true that their father had mentioned their mother’s brother in his stories about the short time they’d spent together, and he had not seemed overly fond of the man. He had said only that Nuada was proud, and disliked the Human world, that he had tried to bring about war between the Humans and the Elves, and that their mother had worked with their father and the rest of the BPRD to stop him. That was all. In any event, it had to be true that he and their mother were reconciled - why else would she have sent him to meet them that night?
Still, as they walked further, Aedan began to grow nervous. “Where are we going?” he asked.
“Uncle,” the man before them corrected. “’Where are we going, Uncle.’ You must learn proper manners - rudeness is not tolerated in our world.”
Aedan glanced at Aodh and made a sour face. Neasa frowned at them. “You’ll make him angry,” she hissed. “Remember the stories Dad read to us? Elves are quick to take insult.” She hurried a few steps ahead of her brothers, then, and repeated in a sweet voice, “Where are we going, Uncle?”
He laughed, and stopped to face her. “You are your mother’s child, aren’t you? So gentle and unassuming. For you then, my sweet, I shall answer whatever questions you wish. We are going into the Human’s city. The way for you into the court is there.”
“In the city?” Aodh caught up to them, his gills fluttering as he caught his breath. “But I thought Father said that Elves avoided the Human world. He said they hate buildings and iron and all of that.”
“We do hate it. But it is everywhere around us, so we must do what we can in its midst. It is easier to hide under their noses than out here, where they watch for signs of life. Now, less chatter from you all - we must still get there before dawn.”
It felt like they walked for hours, and by the time they reached the city, all four children were tired. Nuada encouraged them on, though, into the sewers and through dark, dank tunnels until they reached a huge cavern, dark and gloomy, in which an underwater lake lay, lined with uneven white-grey stalagmites. The edges of the lake looked nearly aflame with strange color - saffron yellow and a brilliant turquoise that seemed almost to glow in the darkness.
When they had all reached the edge of the lake, Nuada turned and smiled at them from the edge, his white boots nearly touching the eerily brilliant blue waters at the edge. “Here it is, nephews and nieces. Your way into your mother's court.”
“This?” Neasa bent down, peering into the darkness beyond. It didn’t look like a pathway of any kind to her - she could hear water dripping faintly in the distance, but other than that she could see nothing in the inky depths at the center - from the edges it grew very dark very quickly, presumably because of its depth. It didn’t look very welcoming, with its nearly acid-blue edges, and the strange stillness of the water here deep underground. But then she recalled that in fairy tales it was always the darkest path, the humblest gift, and the most un-promising visitor who ended up bringing the greatest blessings.
Aodh leaned over as well. He could see nothing in the murky water but the reflection of the pale crescent moon above, shining through a grate. “What will it be like?”
“The court?” Nuada knelt down, sitting back on his heels, hands relaxed, and his worn-ivory face softened somewhat with reverie. “In days gone by, ours was the most beautiful kingdom in all the world. There were trees then with trunks so wide that all five of us could have grasped hands around it and not made a full circle, and in their high branches every kind of bird sang. My father... your grandfather’s court then was a hall with living trees for its pillars. In the spring their branches were covered with white blossoms, and I would help your mother to climb them, to make garlands out of the flowers. In autumn the leaves blanketed the floors of the hall in red and gold. Artisans from all the peoples of the world came to us, and plied their trade for our king, and in return he gave them the richest gifts. Gold and jewels were plentiful, but more treasured still were the beauty of song and dance, of laughter and the light of living things.”
“It sounds beautiful,” Neasa said softly.
“Oh, it was, little one. In those days, it was a wonder.” Nuada and laid a hand on her shoulder, and then reached out with his other hand and cupped her chin, tilting her head this way and that as he examined her. “It’s a pity you have such strange eyes - you really do look almost exactly like your mother. I would almost take you with me, if I could.”
Neasa blinked, her smile faltering. “What--What do you mean, Uncle?”
“But, I’m afraid that is not possible right now. You must go to meet your mother first.” He smiled, and then pulled from his belt a glass vial that sparkled in the darkness. “Here - drink this, each of you. Quickly, now, before the sun rises in the city above us.”
“What will it do?” Aodh asked.
“Such suspicious children you are! I can see why your poor mother worried to leave you with the Humans. It will help you to go to her, little nephew. You do want to see your mother, don’t you? Now drink!”
Alastar frowned, and took the vial from Neasa’s fingers. “I’ll drink it first, if you don’t mind, Uncle.”
Nuada smiled, and inclined his head, his hands stretched out at his sides. “Just so. A good brother should always protect his sister. Drink up, nephew. No harm shall come to you of it.”
Alastar took a good mouthful of the stuff, held it in his mouth for a moment, and, as he felt no burning and tasted nothing that he could say was dangerous, swallowed. It left a strange tingling in his mouth, almost like peppermint and cloves but somehow stranger and more warm, but not unpleasant, and a sweet taste lingered after it. “Go ahead,” he told the others, handing the vial back to Neasa. “It seems safe.”
“Of course it does. I wouldn’t poison my own niece and nephews - I am no Human, to betray a bond like that.” Nuada spat, his eyes scathing.
“Some Humans are nice, you know, Uncle,” Neasa said calmly, and then took a long sip from the vial. “Perhaps we can show you that, after you’ve shown us your world. The people who teach us...”
“I do not believe that would be wise,” Nuada interrupted her. “Quickly, now - give the vial to your brothers. You must all drink before the sun rises outside, or you will not be able to enter the court with me, and your poor mother will have to wait another thirteen years to see you. You don’t want that, do you?”
Aedan drank, and then Aodh, who handed the vial back to Nuada. “What must we do now, Uncle?”
“You must do nothing. I shall fix it all...” Nuada smiled and removed from his sash another vial, this time filled with a glittering silver powder. This he uncorked and, with a sudden flip of his wrist, threw over all four children at once. In an instant, they writhed and twisted in the cloud of dust, and when a gust of sudden wind blew the powder away, all that remained on the ground were four wiggling, silver-bronze carp, their mouths gaping desperately and their gills gasping in the air.
“There you are, little niece and nephews.” Nuada quickly picked up all four and dropped them without ceremony into the underground pool. “If my sister will whore herself to a fish, then it is only fitting that she shall have fish for her children.” He waited, and watched them for a moment as the morning sunlight slipped in through a grating above, illuminating their sleek, scaled sides flashing in the dim pond. “You’ll be safe here. No harm will come to you. And our world will be safe from you. It’s for the best, little niece and nephews. I promise you that.”
Characters: Abe Sapien, Nuala, Hellboy, Liz Sherman, Nuada, and a small cast of OCs.
Timeline: post-movie-2 AU.
Summary: The trouble with getting what you want is that something unexpected almost inevitably comes out of it. If Abe actually reads fairy tales, he really should know better.
Title: Be Near Me
Warnings: Does the passage of 13 years count as something to be warned for? If so, then... um... temporal warning?
Rating: Teen, or so.
Pairing: Abe/Nuala
Thanks: To
tavern_wench1 for the world's most awesome red-pen-of-doom beta job on an almost-complete draft after NaNoWriMo, and maymargaret, for giving me the seed of the idea late one night in a pub, working out the general outline with me on a walk around the lake, and generally cheerleading and never letting me forget this damned thing from the other side of the globe.Link to previous chapter: 1 - 2
Thirteen, Abe knew, was a number of some significance in folklore and mythology. Theories on this seemed mostly to revolve around the number of lunar months in a year, but the important thing to him was not the reason for the significance so much as the fact that it had significance. Specifically, that fact meant that it was just possible that Nuala might choose the children’s thirteenth birthday to send a message to them, or perhaps even to find time for a short visit. It was foolish to think this way, of course - he’d been equally hopeful on their third, fifth, seventh, and ninth birthdays - there was something about odd numbers in mythology, apparently - with not the slightest sign from her. But he couldn’t seem to quite give up hope... however improbable the outcome of that hope now appeared.
Fortunately he had a distraction on the night before the children’s birthday - he, Red, and Liz, along with several of their associates, were called out to deal with a haunting at an old farmhouse in rural New Hampshire, only returning well after nightfall.
“Have a beer with us?” Red offered, his arm slung casually around Liz’s waist as they tramped back into headquarters from the loading bay.
“I... had better not.”
“Birthday excitement tomorrow, right?” Liz smiled. “The twins have been waiting all week to give them all their presents. I took them shopping last weekend - it was hell on wheels getting something they both agreed on for all five, but I think we got it in the end.”
“And... well...” Abe glanced at the clock on the wall. Nearly midnight. If she were to come, it would be around this time, he thought. First because it was a magical time, and second because it would be easiest for her to slip unnoticed through the edges of the Human world at this time of night. “I thought perhaps... that is, it’s possible...”
Liz frowned, and bit her lip. “Abe... at some point, don’t you think it’s more likely that she’s just... not coming?”
Abe shook his head emphatically. “Nuala said that she would come whenever she was able.”
“Yeah, and it’s been thirteen years. Abe, buddy, it’s time to face facts--”
“If it were Liz, would you stop waiting?” Abe interrupted. “Liz, what if it were Red?”
They sighed, glanced at each other, but didn’t answer for a long moment.
“All I’m saying, Abe, is that you can’t keep waiting forever. She’s got... duties, right?” Red frowned. “She’s a queen. Maybe that means she can’t have the kids around. Maybe that’s why she sent them here.”
“She said that she would come when she was able,” Abe repeated staunchly.
“Thirteen years, Abe. Thirteen. And she hasn’t found time even once? She must be pretty damn busy.”
He walked away, and Liz looked after him for a moment before turning back to Abe with an apologetic expression. “He’s right, you know. You should think about moving on. You don’t deserve someone who can’t even manage to be a part of your life - ornyour kids’ lives - for thirteen years. That’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to you.”
“But--”
“I liked her, too, Abe, and I’m sure she meant well, to begin with, but...” Liz shrugged. “One thing I know when it comes to relationships - it’s not what people say that matters. It’s what they do. She said she’d come back, sure, but in all this time... You have to think, if she really wanted to - if it really mattered to her, like it would matter to you if the situation was reversed, she’d be with you. I know nothing would keep Red or me away from the kids, and I know nothing would keep you away from either them or her, if you were in her place. Maybe... maybe Elves are just different, that way. I don’t know. But you have to think of what’s best for you, and for them.” She squeezed his shoulder lightly. “Eve over in forensics has had her eye on you for months, you know. She’s nice, and smart, and she loves the kids.”
“I know.” He thought of the technician - of her dark eyes and her black curls forever trying to burst out of the braid she wore them in at work, and the way she tutored the children in biology and chemistry. He’d walked into the lab one day to retrieve Niamh and Aodh after a particularly long study session had made them late for dinner, and found her laughing and playing cards with them both. She’d taught them to play rummy, and invited them to stay overnight at her house any time they wanted, and meet her own fifteen year-old daughter. He hadn’t yet allowed them to take her up on it, even though Niamh in particular begged at least once a week. ’You never let us go out!’ she’d shouted, the last time he refused. ’Don’t you trust her? You work with her - it’s not like we wouldn’t be safe!’
He didn’t know how to tell her that he wasn’t afraid of Eve letting their secret out, or even that her daughter might inadvertantly get them into trouble - he trusted that the teenaged child of someone in the BPRD was probably well enough aware that there were secrets that couldn’t be shared around with school friends. He was afraid of Eve, if he was honest. Of the way she smiled at him while they worked together, the way her hand sometimes lingered on his too long for it to be mere accident. Of the way he had once glanced at her computer when she’d left it unattended and found it open to a page describing the mating habits of tropical fish. He knew it was prudish of him, but he found the thought frankly a bit horrifying.
“Just think about it, okay?” Liz asked softly. “Not necessarily Eve, just... just someone. Or not even anyone, if you don’t want, but... I just hate to see you like this, Abe. We both do. You’ve got to live your life.” She squeezed his shoulder one last time and then turned off toward the quarters she shared with Red and the twins. A tongue of flame lapped at the backs of her hands, Abe noticed. It was unlike Liz to let her temper get the better of her anymore - it underlined how truly upset she must be about the situation.
When he got back to the library he found the children awake, all five of them arranged around a low table, discussing something in hushed tones. They looked up at him and guiltily went silent.
“What’s going on? You should all be in bed.”
The five children looked at each other. Abe noticed that Alastar, Aedan and Neasa looked a bit nervous, but Aodh and Niamh seemed not the least ill at ease.
“It’s a surprise,” Neasa replied. Her siblings all nodded, with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
“It’s your birthdays tomorrow,” Abe pointed out. “Why should you be planning surprises?”
She rolled her eyes. “If we told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”
“It’s for you, and Red and Liz,” Aodh put in, smiling. “We’ve got something planned for you... but you can’t see it until tomorrow night.”
“At our party,” Aedan agreed. “It won’t be ready until then.”
Abe frowned, suspicious, but... well, the children were cooped up in the Bureau all day, weren’t they? How much mischief could they possibly get into?
“Don’t stay up too late,” he warned them. “I still want you to do your lessons before your party tomorrow.”
“Even on our birthday?” Aodh whined.
“Even on your birthday. Exactly like every other year,” Abe reminded, as sternly as he could. It was hard to keep a firm tone when they were all looking at him so earnestly. And they did work so hard, and not give him half the trouble the twins gave Red and Liz... he’d have to find a way to give them a bit more freedom, now that they were going to be into their teenage years. He had no idea how he could manage... perhaps a private school somewhere? An academy where the strength of their achievements would overcome their strange appearances... He would have to do some research. It wasn’t fair to keep them locked away so closely - it would only stunt their social growth as they grew older, and he did want them to have as normal of lives as possible.
“We won’t be too much later,” Niamh promised when he bent over to kiss her forehead.
“Good. Remember to turn out the lights before you go to bed, please.”
“We will,” Alastar assured him.
Each accepted a kiss in turn (he noted with some amusement that all but Neasa now took it with some chagrin, as though by some magic as the clock neared to midnight they were already beginning to behave like teenagers), and chorused a quick ‘goodnight,’ in response to his. He turned back once as he headed up to his tank and was pleased to see that they were all gathering their things and trooping off toward their bedrooms. They were good kids, he thought, somewhat awkwardly. They’d get by somehow.
* * *
“You don’t think he noticed, do you?” Neasa leaned over her brother’s shoulder as he shut the door to the boys’ room behind them all. Compared to other living quarters in the bureau, like Liz and Hellboy’s, the childrens’ rooms were fairly simple. In the boys’ room, two bunk beds stood against the walls opposing the door - one raised up over over a desk, the other twinned - and posters lined the cement walls.
“Nah.” Aodh pulled her back into the room and shut the door, then locked it. “If he’d noticed, he would have made us show him.”
“Maybe we should have, though...”
“The letter said not to tell him. It said it was a surprise. We’ll tell him when we get back - and he’ll be so happy he won’t even be angry with us for keeping it a secret,” Aedan pointed out. The smallest of the children, he curled up neatly on the edge of his brother’s desk.
“Off,” Alastar grumbled, shoving him. His other hand protectively guarded the lava lamp he kept next to his computer monitor.
“Why? I won’t break anything.”
“That’s not the point. Just get off my desk.”
Aedan rolled his eyes, but dropped off and threw himself into a rolling chair instead. He spun once, and came to a stop facing his siblings. “So, we’re all agreed, then?”
“No.”
Everyone looked at Niamh. She stood with her hands planted on her hips, a defiant gleam in her eyes.
“Why not?”
“She hasn’t been here. Thirteen years, and then all of a sudden we’re all supposed to jump up and go to her, just because she sends us a letter and a cheap little charm?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s real gold...” Alastar held the pendant they’d received up in the light. “And that stone looks like genuine amber.”
“That’s not the point, Al! Is that all it takes to buy us back? A little bit of jewelry and a few nice words written on some parchment? She’s never been around!”
“Like Father always said, she’s busy...”
“So’s he! So are Liz and Red, and Eve, and all the others here. Just because she’s the queen of some dying kingdom under the ground--”
“I’m with Niamh on that, it is pretty lame that she can’t even write to us until today,” Aodh pointed out.
“Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe... maybe there was a war on!” Aedan suggested.
“Don’t you think we would have noticed?” Neasa frowned. “Dad, I mean, and the Bureau. Don’t you think they’d know if there was a war going on right under our feet?”
“The Troll Market’s in Brooklyn, and we don’t even know where the rest of Elf-Land is - maybe the war was in Ireland, or somewhere else in Europe, so we wouldn’t have heard a thing over here. But it would have required all her attention.”
“You’re such a dope, Alastar.” Niamh rolled her eyes. “Even if there was a war, why wouldn’t she say anything to us until now? I just don’t think we should make it that easy for her. She should have to prove to us that she really wants to be a part of our lives again.”
“She’s our mother!” Neasa looked horrified. “She is a part of our lives!”
“Why, because Dad’s always telling us stories about her lands, or about the few days that he actually knew her? Please. Don’t be such a baby.”
“I’m only trying to say--”
“Just stop it, all of you, please!” Alastar raised the letter in one hand, and the pendant in the other. “Let’s not fight. We don’t have much time. The letter says to come just after moonrise, if we’re coming at all. We need to make our decision, and make it quick, or we won’t have a chance. I know mine - I’ve known it since we got the letter. I’m going. Who’s with me?”
Neasa, Aodh, and, with some hesitation, Aedan, all raised their hands. Niamh kept hers folded staunchly under her arms.
“Come on, Niamh. We should all go together.”
“She’s never been there for us. Why should we be there for her?” Niamh scowled, her large dark eyes making the expression look particularly dire. “If you want to go, go. I won’t stop you, and I won’t tell Dad, but I’m not going to be a part of this.” With that, she stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
Inside, the other four children looked solemnly at each other, shrugged in silent mutual agreement, and put on their coats to leave. They slipped out quickly, taking a back route to bypass the library so they wouldn’t wake their father, and then out the service hallway described in their mother’s letter. They could move more quickly outside the building, and sneaked easily past the guards at the Bureau’s gate while they stopped into the guard house for a cup of coffee. The idea of the bureau’s guard-house, of course, was to keep people out - they’d never had to bother much with keeping anyone in, so they didn’t look that way. Still, the deception sat wrong with Neasa, who hesitated just outside the circle of light from the Bureau’s grounds.
“Maybe we should have told Dad...”
“We can’t.” Aodh took her arm, tugging her gently. “You know he’d never let us go.”
“But he could come with us. Then it would be all right, and we could all go.”
“The letter said to go alone.” Aedan frowned, rubbing the side of his neck. “Maybe she wants to surprise him.”
“Or maybe... Maybe they had an argument? Before she left, I mean? Something he didn’t tell us about, and that’s why...” Neasa looked a little guilty just suggesting the idea.
“That’s not how it happened. We would have at least overheard something about it if that was the problem.” Alastar put his arm around his sister’s shoulders, squeezing her softly. “Come on. It’ll be okay - she just wants to see us on our birthday, like she said in the letter. She’s busy with ruling the court, so she can’t come herself, but she still wants to see us. I’ve been thinking about it, and maybe... maybe thirteen is like a coming-of-age sort of thing, for Elves. Maybe that’s why she wants us to come alone, for now.”
Aodh frowned. “What, like a test or something? Some kind of challenge?”
“Maybe.” In the moonlight, Alastar looked almost like a full-elf, himself - he was the tallest of the siblings, and the most pale, with only the softest hints of blue-green stripes on his back, and on his hands. Dressed in a black wool coat as he was now he could nearly pass as Human, but something strange and unearthly seemed to reflect in his eyes in the darkened forest. Neasa looked at Aodh, and saw it there, too - and in Aedan’s eyes as well. Maybe Alastar was right. Maybe thirteen really was a magical age for them, as half-Elves.
“Come on. We took a long time getting out of the building, and the computer said moonrise was only a half hour away.” Aedan held out his hand to Neasa, and this time she nodded and took it, her fears settled. They hurried into the darkness, up the wooded hill, and out into the forest of the national park that bordered, and hid, the Bureau’s headquarters. They slowed down in the forest, hampered by low-hanging branches and roots that tried to trip them, but managed to follow the directions written in the letter out to a clearing on a little hill. A tall, pale figure waited for them at the top.
As they approached, Alastar felt an unspoken worry kindling in his stomach. He stepped ahead of his brothers and sister, and mounted the hill first. “Hello? Who are you?”
The figure turned, revealing a bone-pale face that could almost have been Alastar’s twin, if not for the difference in age and eyes, and the lack of the bluish mottling that marked his own skin. “I am your mother’s brother, nephew. And I’m most pleased that you came.”
Alastar’s heart seemed to skip a beat. “Our uncle? But Father--”
“There has been bad blood between your father and I in the past, but I assure you that it is all behind us, now.” The man smiled, his teeth bright white in the moonlight. “My people cherish children above all things, nephew. Surely even the Humans’ stories of us have taught you that.”
“Of course,” Alastar agreed, somewhat automatically. “I am Alastar. And these are Aedan, Aodh, and Neasa.”
“Only four? I was told to expect five of you...”
“Niamh is the other, she... could not come with us tonight.” Alastar shifted awkwardly and then added, although it was a lie, “She sends her apologies.”
“Hmm. Well. I would much have preferred to bring all of you together, but if that is how it is, that is how it must be, is it not? I am Nuada. Walk with me.” Without waiting for them, he turned and nearly disappeared into the shadows, a white phantom of shape. The four children looked at each other, and then followed. It was true that their father had mentioned their mother’s brother in his stories about the short time they’d spent together, and he had not seemed overly fond of the man. He had said only that Nuada was proud, and disliked the Human world, that he had tried to bring about war between the Humans and the Elves, and that their mother had worked with their father and the rest of the BPRD to stop him. That was all. In any event, it had to be true that he and their mother were reconciled - why else would she have sent him to meet them that night?
Still, as they walked further, Aedan began to grow nervous. “Where are we going?” he asked.
“Uncle,” the man before them corrected. “’Where are we going, Uncle.’ You must learn proper manners - rudeness is not tolerated in our world.”
Aedan glanced at Aodh and made a sour face. Neasa frowned at them. “You’ll make him angry,” she hissed. “Remember the stories Dad read to us? Elves are quick to take insult.” She hurried a few steps ahead of her brothers, then, and repeated in a sweet voice, “Where are we going, Uncle?”
He laughed, and stopped to face her. “You are your mother’s child, aren’t you? So gentle and unassuming. For you then, my sweet, I shall answer whatever questions you wish. We are going into the Human’s city. The way for you into the court is there.”
“In the city?” Aodh caught up to them, his gills fluttering as he caught his breath. “But I thought Father said that Elves avoided the Human world. He said they hate buildings and iron and all of that.”
“We do hate it. But it is everywhere around us, so we must do what we can in its midst. It is easier to hide under their noses than out here, where they watch for signs of life. Now, less chatter from you all - we must still get there before dawn.”
It felt like they walked for hours, and by the time they reached the city, all four children were tired. Nuada encouraged them on, though, into the sewers and through dark, dank tunnels until they reached a huge cavern, dark and gloomy, in which an underwater lake lay, lined with uneven white-grey stalagmites. The edges of the lake looked nearly aflame with strange color - saffron yellow and a brilliant turquoise that seemed almost to glow in the darkness.
When they had all reached the edge of the lake, Nuada turned and smiled at them from the edge, his white boots nearly touching the eerily brilliant blue waters at the edge. “Here it is, nephews and nieces. Your way into your mother's court.”
“This?” Neasa bent down, peering into the darkness beyond. It didn’t look like a pathway of any kind to her - she could hear water dripping faintly in the distance, but other than that she could see nothing in the inky depths at the center - from the edges it grew very dark very quickly, presumably because of its depth. It didn’t look very welcoming, with its nearly acid-blue edges, and the strange stillness of the water here deep underground. But then she recalled that in fairy tales it was always the darkest path, the humblest gift, and the most un-promising visitor who ended up bringing the greatest blessings.
Aodh leaned over as well. He could see nothing in the murky water but the reflection of the pale crescent moon above, shining through a grate. “What will it be like?”
“The court?” Nuada knelt down, sitting back on his heels, hands relaxed, and his worn-ivory face softened somewhat with reverie. “In days gone by, ours was the most beautiful kingdom in all the world. There were trees then with trunks so wide that all five of us could have grasped hands around it and not made a full circle, and in their high branches every kind of bird sang. My father... your grandfather’s court then was a hall with living trees for its pillars. In the spring their branches were covered with white blossoms, and I would help your mother to climb them, to make garlands out of the flowers. In autumn the leaves blanketed the floors of the hall in red and gold. Artisans from all the peoples of the world came to us, and plied their trade for our king, and in return he gave them the richest gifts. Gold and jewels were plentiful, but more treasured still were the beauty of song and dance, of laughter and the light of living things.”
“It sounds beautiful,” Neasa said softly.
“Oh, it was, little one. In those days, it was a wonder.” Nuada and laid a hand on her shoulder, and then reached out with his other hand and cupped her chin, tilting her head this way and that as he examined her. “It’s a pity you have such strange eyes - you really do look almost exactly like your mother. I would almost take you with me, if I could.”
Neasa blinked, her smile faltering. “What--What do you mean, Uncle?”
“But, I’m afraid that is not possible right now. You must go to meet your mother first.” He smiled, and then pulled from his belt a glass vial that sparkled in the darkness. “Here - drink this, each of you. Quickly, now, before the sun rises in the city above us.”
“What will it do?” Aodh asked.
“Such suspicious children you are! I can see why your poor mother worried to leave you with the Humans. It will help you to go to her, little nephew. You do want to see your mother, don’t you? Now drink!”
Alastar frowned, and took the vial from Neasa’s fingers. “I’ll drink it first, if you don’t mind, Uncle.”
Nuada smiled, and inclined his head, his hands stretched out at his sides. “Just so. A good brother should always protect his sister. Drink up, nephew. No harm shall come to you of it.”
Alastar took a good mouthful of the stuff, held it in his mouth for a moment, and, as he felt no burning and tasted nothing that he could say was dangerous, swallowed. It left a strange tingling in his mouth, almost like peppermint and cloves but somehow stranger and more warm, but not unpleasant, and a sweet taste lingered after it. “Go ahead,” he told the others, handing the vial back to Neasa. “It seems safe.”
“Of course it does. I wouldn’t poison my own niece and nephews - I am no Human, to betray a bond like that.” Nuada spat, his eyes scathing.
“Some Humans are nice, you know, Uncle,” Neasa said calmly, and then took a long sip from the vial. “Perhaps we can show you that, after you’ve shown us your world. The people who teach us...”
“I do not believe that would be wise,” Nuada interrupted her. “Quickly, now - give the vial to your brothers. You must all drink before the sun rises outside, or you will not be able to enter the court with me, and your poor mother will have to wait another thirteen years to see you. You don’t want that, do you?”
Aedan drank, and then Aodh, who handed the vial back to Nuada. “What must we do now, Uncle?”
“You must do nothing. I shall fix it all...” Nuada smiled and removed from his sash another vial, this time filled with a glittering silver powder. This he uncorked and, with a sudden flip of his wrist, threw over all four children at once. In an instant, they writhed and twisted in the cloud of dust, and when a gust of sudden wind blew the powder away, all that remained on the ground were four wiggling, silver-bronze carp, their mouths gaping desperately and their gills gasping in the air.
“There you are, little niece and nephews.” Nuada quickly picked up all four and dropped them without ceremony into the underground pool. “If my sister will whore herself to a fish, then it is only fitting that she shall have fish for her children.” He waited, and watched them for a moment as the morning sunlight slipped in through a grating above, illuminating their sleek, scaled sides flashing in the dim pond. “You’ll be safe here. No harm will come to you. And our world will be safe from you. It’s for the best, little niece and nephews. I promise you that.”
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no subject
Date: 2010-10-25 02:50 am (UTC)As soon as I read the line, "How much mischief could they get into?", I said to myself, FAMOUS LAST WORDS. It was pretty obvious the moment the letter was mentioned that Nuada had kidnapping plans, but I was NOT expecting that transformation -- and yet, it makes perfect sense. Like the way the children make sense of half their heritage through fairytale rules, which is delightful to read. Like this great line, "But then she recalled that in fairy tales it was always the darkest path, the humblest gift, and the most un-promising visitor who ended up bringing the greatest blessings."
Gotta say, you write a creepy Nuada. Like, white-van-with-painted-windows, John-Waters-moustache-wearing creepy.
I've seen stories where a writer takes too much time describing characters' appearances, so I appreciate that you steered clear of that, but at the same time I was starting to crave some indication of how you visualized the children -- so I was glad to get the descriptions you included in this chapter.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-25 04:20 am (UTC)The way I saw Nuada's actions - he can't... he absolutely can't bring himself to physically hurt the kids, as much as he really sort of wants to, because despite the fact that he's insane and screwed up and very very wrong about it, he really does love Nuala and sees them as extensions of her (much as he sees her as an extension of himself), and also because the elves really are in a bad way when it comes to children, and it's sort of ingrained in them that children of their kind are an amazingly precious gift. But at the same time, he's a screwed up bastard and he thinks they're an abomination, practically a blasphemy, because of Abe and their relation to him, and he can't stand the thought of them being what they are. It taints and ruins everything, to him. It's just so much easier if they're fish, because, as he figures it, he hasn't really hurt them - he's just made them the rest of the way what they really are.
Or at least that was the logic he went through at one point. He's obviously more than a bit unhinged, and sometimes I can't quite make sense of what he's thinking. I'm pretty sure he can't, either. It's like at the end of the movie (...watch as I push my confusion back on the source material!): he can't just stop fighting, he has to force Hellboy to kill him because... he just doesn't know how to stop. There really is something seriously screwed up about this guy, and it's not just his relationship with his sister. Although, that, too, is pretty darn screwed up...
Like, white-van-with-painted-windows, John-Waters-moustache-wearing creepy.
Heeeee. Yeah, I have to say, he's an interesting guy to write. 'Interesting' in the 'oh god, why did I just think that?' kind of way.
I was glad to get the descriptions you included in this chapter.
I'm glad that worked for you - I was absolutely agonizing during this over whether I should include more description, less description, or what. This story obviously kind of ate my brain, and it's the longest complete, finished piece I've ever actually written and put out there, so... yes, big stress over everything. Very glad it's working for you. XD