Chapter Text
Omelas laid against the cool stone floor of his cell, the night was quiet and delivered its abrasive cold. He was thin as his captors could keep him, his ribs protruding up against his skin. Light trickled in through the boards above his head letting in enough light to let him see. The monsters were often tall, some had hair and others didn’t. Some were vile, others only mean. Occasionally a handful descended the steps conveying through cries and snarls how they were meant to keep him within an inch of his life. Those ones never stayed long and for that he was always thankful. He wondered where those that came went afterwards. His imagination swam in the sea of what horrors rested above him, the sounds of panic that kept him awake well into the night. He could see clearly the bare stone tunnels in which such creatures crept in the dark. Slinking from place to place and devouring one another, the latter of which he was absolutely certain of. Time rolled along at its debilitating pace until the sound of the monsters clopping against the steps echoed in his cell. Omelas scrambled back into the corner, quieting himself.
The Monster hobbled towards the door, working it open with a key, setting a bowl down inside, “You wanted to see it, so here it is. Is it everything you imagined ?” He had long since forgotten what the utterances meant, but that word he recognized as his name. Omelas did not dare move, they had not come to gawk at his sore ridden, filth covered form. It was because they wanted to see someone who deserved to suffer because they were impure, hideous. Their expressions were twisted with fascination and disgust.
Of course they were not merely gawkers, this was a lesson and if Omelas did not want to participate? His captor would find a way to encourage him and often that motivation would come unbidden. Wordlessly the man strode stiffly towards him coming to a stop two paces away kicking downwards as if dislodging a rock to break the boy’s foot. The monsters winced at the visceral crack of bone, what followed was a swift blow to his stomach before he had the chance to cry out. The creature rolled its shoulders and fell back onto its left foot watching, it expected him to stand and so he did. Supported by his shivering hands and one good foot.
“This is all the muse required of us to lead a good life, a bountiful one.” It stepped aside, “Do not speak to it, do as I have done.” The first approached grabbing him by his matted hair and threw his head against the wall with another crack, the captor growled. Unsatisfied it demonstrated with greater force. His ears rang, but he was relieved to hear footfall echoing against the walls. Omelas fell limp to the ground, left to grope around in the dark for the bowl. The bowl was half filled with a mixture of grease, water and cornstarch that stuck to the insides of his mouth and left him hungrier with every meal.
Omelas did not count days, perhaps a single day passed, perhaps years? In truth it had been closer to a century. Time could be measured in meals and beatings. Through spilt blood he had forgotten his words, by broken bones he had learnt not to fight and with every kick he was reminded to stand. In spite of all the time he had never grown accustomed to it. Each step was a staccato that built up to his cries, each day his tormentor would take to its task with renewed vigor. You would be forgiven for thinking he’d wish for absolution or freedom, but this is a man that has long since forgotten how to wish.
He was slumbering in the corner when something gracefully flowed down the stairs, its eyes shedding soft blue light as it crept towards his cell, the light had stirred him from his slumber. It moved like nothing Omelas had ever gazed upon, remarkable in its beauty, “Ah, there you are little Muse. I’ve been searching for you for a very long time.” The creatures cascaded over the side of the stairs and flowed towards the door. It had come to wipe clean his wretched existence, he cried out for any that might hear him. It was too late, vines sprung forwards consuming the whole of his vision. It was over.
Omelas stirred, he clutched the soft thing draped over him and pulled it over his head. The light made his eyes throb and the soft thing was good for keeping it at bay. He knew this word, but not anymore. Far away was the pretty voice of the blue eyed one and soon it would come to remind him of his place.
- CW SKIP TO HERE -
Lathyrus wrapped an arm around the shoulders of her wilting friend, “Your sweet little muse will recover admirably. He’s a strong little spirit in spite of what those humans did, you have nothing to worry yourself over.” Sorbus nodded to her, it wasn’t as if she needed reminding though. She did not doubt for a moment that this was the most gently she had held anything, each step home was taken carefully with deliberate care and thought towards the path. When she had finally been able to put him in bed her vines unwound, “You don’t need to remind me, just tell me how many days.”
“A few more days should see him well enough to begin walking about, if he can manage that.”
“And his legs?” Lathyrus tilted her head, “What about them?”
“It looks like he’s growing hooves.” The taller Affini withdrew her arm from the smaller one's shoulders with a light chuckle, “I’d worry more about what trouble he knocks into with those little antlers of his.” She grimaced. “Farewell Sorbus, don’t be a stranger.”
Omelas was dismayed to be parted from his beloved blanket, the harsh light bearing down on him once more. He cried out and clumsily reached for it only for a vine to push his hands aside. The creature emitted a soft coo and with the most gentle touch the boy had ever known a vine parted his lips wiggling between his teeth. That space was quickly occupied by a larger vine, it secreted a thick sickly sweet sap. He barely noticed the creature scrawling small symbols on his forehead, “Little muse, can you lift your head up and down for me?”
“Good boy.” Her hand caressed his irritated scalp, scattering his thoughts, “I think it’s time for a bath, after you’ve had your fill I suppose.” Omelas did not realize quite how much glee the plant took from him suckling on her vines, but he’d know soon enough.To his dismay his pouting did little to get him more of the delicious nectar, placing him into the bath, ignoring his grabby hands, “You’ll have plenty more later, why don’t you tell me your name?”
“Omelas, I think?” He was certain that was his name, but he did have some doubts from being in the- That place. He felt a melody wash over him from the plant creature, “Your name?”
“I am Sorbus, Guardian of the Threshold. My pronouns are She/her.” He nodded, “I have pronouns too.”
She cooed, “Are those pronouns he/him or something else?”
He nodded, Sorbus was so smart! Not to mention how pretty she was, it made him think about how this was the first thing he’d consider pretty. He winced as he thought back to the cell, he remembered the monsters and the lone mop, nothing he considered pretty. Was he kept there because he was not pretty? Omelas began to tear up while Sorbus scrubbed him down tending to his sores, “Little muse, it is okay to cry.”
So he wept, a vine gently caressing his back, “Sor- Sorry. I- I.”
“Breathe in, breathe out.” She hoisted him from the tub and began to dry him off with a warm towel, “Could you tell me what the matter is?”
“It’s- It’s cuz I’m not pretty that they-” Sorbus rose to her full height, her beautiful blue eyes one above the other bore down on him, “How dare you comment upon that which you’ve not seen. Do not speak of yourself until I am done”
Omelas was carried into the largest room he’d ever seen and was placed atop a cushion on a Faeffini sized vanity, “Stay there, don’t move.” She turned to fetch a bolt of green cloth and stepped back over to take measurements, “Do you know what my favorite part of you is?” He knelt there listening while a handful of vines wrapped around his body to provide additional support, “I-” “Do not guess, but you may speak.”
“I don’t know.” He admitted sheepishly, while a pair of vines folded a piece of soft green cloth around him. A vine pressed part of it into his hand, “How does that feel?”
“Soft.” He remarked simply, there was little else to say! It felt like a gentle caress, a divine gift from the gods perhaps? The only God he’d met is Sorbus though, she was kind and tender like no other being he’d met. She moved with precision and grace, “This is a Chiton, I think its simplicity serves to show how beautiful you really are. Some use pins to hold the shoulders, but I think buttons suit you better.”
Omelas took Sordonus’s hand and turned to gaze upon himself in the mirror. That was him in the mirror! The dress sat neatly over his shoulders, a vine held the dress securely around his waist and oh stars. He lifted a hand to trace around the unfamiliar bumps on his forehead, they were firm or more accurately hard, “What’s this?”
“Do you want to guess first?” She grinned while Omelas mulled over her offer, “That’s one of my favorite parts, I think it’s time to put you back to bed though. My little muse needs his rest.”
Omelas rested more soundly, more cozily than ever before.
Larthyus sat well out of reach of her roommate, the silly thing was liable to eat her leaves at the first opportunity. The worst part of it was that he was pacing below her making doe eyes. He wore a himation, a piece of cloth draped over his right shoulder that trailed down to his knees leaving his chest and one of a pair of horizontal scars exposed. Small flowers hung from Ceryneia’s antlers, “Lathyrus please! Please please!”
He knew from that look it was better not to prod any further, “. . . I’ll go outside.”
He bounded out into the vast meadow and past the gateway to the mundane realm which was framed by two interwoven trees. Houses dotted the surrounding hills, but he had little interest in those. He trotted down to a little creek, where he and his roommate liked to sit and drink to find something wholly unexpected. A boy in a short green dress with fledgling horns was sitting against an apple tree! He waved his arms back and forth to catch the stranger's attention! Eventually the newcomer looked up and Ceryneia trotted over, “Hi, I’m Ceryneia He/him. Are you lost?”
The chiton clad deerboy smiled weakly and nodded, “Uh no! I’m Omelas He/Him.”
“Oh my gosh, it’s so good to meet you. Your dress is so pretty.” He took a seat next to Omelas scooping up one of the fallen apples, “You have to try these.”
Gods, nothing should taste this good. Omelas began to feel a little dizzy, but not in a way he found unpleasant. Cery leaned into him rubbing- No, nuzzling against his arm. With a giggle he began to scratch around his antlers, Stars the noises he made. Cery moved to straddle his legs, “This okay?”
“Yea.” He sputtered, neither was very sober at this point and woah. Omelas watched as Cery greedily snatched up his hands interlocking his fingers with his, “Stars, you’re pretty.”
“Aaahh I ahw, yeaa?” This handsome pretty deerboy thought he was cute? His face was flushed from the embarrassment of stumbling over his words. When Omelas tried to sit up Ceryneia gently pushed him back, “I’m the one taking care of you silly.” Nuzzling and being nuzzled by a cute deer boy? This had to be a dream, what was Cery doing with his face? Ah! Without much thought the two leaned their heads in to kiss. It was difficult to pull apart which was largely due to the two getting the antlers tangled up amidst their intimacy.
Neither was too bothered though, it was enough of an excuse to keep kissing. Neither of them was super cognizant after eating fermented apples.
The two Affini were in the background discussing the matter in an animated fashion.
"You can't separate them, that would hurt them both unnecessarily! And they're adorable together, why would you even want to?" Lathyrus gestured to the two.
"I'll give it to you, that is quite cute, but I do think it'll only cause problems down the line keeping them together like that. Might hurt them worse in the long run if we don't separate them now.” Sorbus picked up one of the discarded apple cores, “I think you misunderstand Sorbus, I’m saying they may be pinnates.”
“Oh! Well, with the two kissing like that? Yeah, that figures. I suppose we’ll have some preparations to get underway.”
Separating the two was more than one challenge, it was two! Each time they tried to untangle them they both pouted and complained quite loudly. While Cery did not cry. . . Omelas wept, only consoled after about a dozen promises of cuddles from Ceryneia. The two deer boys parted ways, with assurances that they’d be reunited in a few hours for dinner, “Say goodbye you two!”
“So, Omelas.” Sorbus grinned, “It seems that my little muse has a boyfriend and a terrible propensity for eating rotten fruit.” The boy buried his reddened face in Sorbus’s vines, “No more eating that stuff, okay?”
“Are you upset?” Sorbus petted the boy’s head, “Only at myself, it’s nothing to worry your little head over. ” Omelas looked up to the Faeffini with a pleading expression, “Promise?”
“Promise.”