A/N: A little forewarning. This is my first AT fic and it is definitely an AU with a fairly dark theme. I would say that the setting is post-apocalyptic but seeing as Adventure Time is already set in such a world I think that would be a bit redundant. Anyway war is ravaging the land every thing's on fire and everyone's dead blah blah blah. J/k. I just took a few ideas about the existence of demons and vampires and liches and ran with it. And before anyone says anything, no, this is not a fic that 'straightens' out everyone. I ship Bubbline forev. However, I also love Marshall Lee. XD And boy do I have plans. Anyway, enjoy my word vomit. =P
Until the End - Part 1 [Adventure Time]
It's been a long time since she's been to this place, she mused as she ducked her head to avoid a cracked beam hanging from the ruined doorway. As she entered the dark, incinerated living room she dimly registered a certain heaviness growing within her chest with every step she took. The reeking stench of scorched wood still permeated the chilled, humid air and she had to steel her will to keep from turning on her heel right then and there. She was on a mission and despite her personal feelings she had to soldier on, for her people, and to a lesser degree, perhaps for herself.
The land of Ooo was not as it was. War ravaged a blighted landscape soaked in the blood of thousands and thousands of living beings slaughtered with all the infernal ferocity of demons. No sooner than one battle had ended than preparations have been made for another. The results of which were devastating; Kingdoms had been rent asunder, villages and townships desolated. Only the realm of the Candy People stood as a bastion of hope in the midst of an unbearable darkness. That is, her Kingdom.
She was no longer a princess, nay, in light of the systematic dissolution of the monarchies of Ooo through assassination and conspiracy she was made a Queen. Queen Bonnibel Bubblegum, reigning monarch of Ooo by default. Her parents would have been proud, that is, if the two scientists had survived the initial slaughter.
It was not a position to be envied. Every day was a fight for mere existence and refugees flooded from every corner of the land. There was not an inch of her kingdom that had not suffered damage from the war; some, like the outskirts of the city had been decimated and left for rot. Along with the physical damage the emotional toll on her people was unspeakable. Most had been displaced from their homes and some had even taken refuge in whatever little space remained in her castle courtyards and common areas.
She did her absolute best for them, listened to their needs and tried to ease their suffering even by just a little. Her council, however, was troublesome. After the dissolution of other nearby Kingdoms she found that the surviving members of their royal families came rushing to her like flies to dung. The only feasible way to retain peace and keep power play at a minimum was to improvise a parliament of sorts to advise her and vote on major goings on in the Candy Kingdom. One of the biggest issues was the allocation of what little resources they had left, something she always had to go through the council for for approval. It was an issue she had little patience for. People needed shelter and food now, not when a handful of imperialistic 'butts' decided to take action.
'Butts… When was the last time I used that word to refer to anyone?'
She thought wearily, her throat tightening somewhat as her mind began to conjure up a face almost forgotten.
There were times that she wished she could simply go over their heads but to do so would alienate previous allies who had ruled over many people that have since taken refuge in her city. Order and peace were of the highest priority and so when needed she simply drew from the nigh bottomless well of her patience and stood her ground, politely hounding the council into doing as she wished. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. It was almost intolerable. However, she was just as stubborn if not more so than even the most snotty and self-important members of her council, it was all simply a matter of who could last longer.
Blowing an impatient puff of air through her nose, she kicked aside some burnt detritus as she rummaged through what was left of the incinerated house. The item she was looking for was one of many that could turn the tide of war in their favor, however, it was one that held very personal connotations for the candy queen.
'Where the heck did she put it…?'
Finally, after fighting through the destroyed ruins of the house and so far coming up frustratingly empty handed she came to the bedroom. She squinted her eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light. Gone was the darkness, replaced with an oppressive gray akin to night, the space suffused with a permeating mist let in by the collapsed roof. Her eyes instinctively turned to an area where she distinctly remembered a bed being and she swallowed heavily.
'This shouldn't be so hard… She's gone… She's never coming back.'
Being a monarch in the midst of a war, she was accustomed to heavy loss. But she just never grieved for her beloved the way she knew she should have. She hadn't gotten drunk and had barely spared a tear. It all seemed so surreal. In the end, Marceline proved a hero. She had hoped that the Vampire had had a good reason to leave her and she had her reason now. Her lover had gone to give up her life for her people. However, instead of engaging in honorable battle for the regency of the Undead she was ambushed and captured.
The following day she was executed by the blazing rays of the morning sun.
Bonnibel was not informed of her fate until weeks later. That is, weeks after the initial attack of demons that spewed from the now open portal of the Nightosphere. When she heard the news she was at the time embroiled in a siege on her city. An emissary from Marceline's kingdom came with a request from the reigning Vampire King for her unconditional surrender. Bewildered, she of course had politely told him to shove the piece of parchment he waved in front of her into his lower bowels before correcting him of the gender of his monarch. With a rather ugly sneer he told her what had befallen the Vampire Queen before immediately launching into a tirade about how her cowardice had proven her downfall and then exalted the 'glorious' victory awarded to the current monarch.
Not even bothering to learn the king's name she ordered her guards to drag the emissary from her sight. She didn't shed a tear. Casting her eyes out to the reddish haze of the fires engulfing her city she realized that she could not afford to mourn, not when so many were still suffering themselves.
It felt like eons since the vampire had died, ages since they had shared a bed or had a conversation. She had done her best to understand the crooked, scheming woman since first they met. It was the classic story of a princess stuck in her ivory tower and the undead queen who epitomized freedom itself with her cavalier ways and devil-may-care attitude. Marceline was like an abused animal; wanting for companionship but wary of being hurt. To meet someone like her, who stayed near but was ever reluctant to truly connect was the experience of a lifetime. She was aloof and at times cruel, but so constant. Marceline could be cold, but she never left. Whenever the princess felt lonely the vampire would come to her, as if she knew. She would sing for her and the truth in her lyrics was almost heartbreaking. Her rakish smile comforted her; her voice compelled her. It was wonderful.
She felt her eyes sting somewhat and her throat tightened as she remembered a particularly harrowing incident with a door lord that had stolen something very precious from her. Marceline, whom she had had a falling out with at the time sang her a song then too. And once again the truth spun out in the fine chords of her voice almost made the princess cry. Only that time, she was the one that needed comfort… But did the princess give it? No. Her damnable pride got in the way. In fact, Marceline was the first to apologize. After wards, Bonnibel finally realized what she had known all along but was too proud to admit.
"You were never the problem Marcy… I was."
She jumped at the sound of her own voice, surprised by the almost involuntary admission. Pausing in her exploration of what used to be a bathroom she allowed herself to say aloud what she had been dreading about this trip.
"I'm in your house… But you're never coming home are you?"
Marceline was dead. Her Marceline. She wanted to feel something for it. Anger, sadness, anything else a woman should be feeling after such a terrible loss. Alas, she felt nothing but the same burning emptiness. She had been trying so hard, for so long to be okay that she had never allowed herself to feel.
"What is wrong with me?"
She said into the air, feeling tears prick at the edge of her eyes but knowing that they would not and could not fall. Shaking her head she made her way towards the closet and kicked down the remains of its doors. This was the last possible place to look for the elusive item but when her eyes befell the floor she felt disappointment twist her guts as she discovered it empty. Just like everywhere else in the house. There truly was not a single trace of Marceline left in this horrible place. She sank to her knees, hanging her head as fatigue finally overtook her. Bonnibel was covered in soot from head to toe, bruised from falling wood, aching from digging through piles of debris and in the end had nothing to show for it.
'This was a waste of time… I should have known that she would have taken her axe with her.'
She knew not how long she sat there before she finally found the strength to stand. Sighing, she was about to turn around before a wry voice calls out from behind her.
"Lookin' for this Princess? Or wait- is it Queen now?"
The voice is teasing and almost familiar, and for one overwhelming moment Bonnibel thinks it might be- She whirls around, but once again finds herself met with disappointment and no small measure of shock as she beholds the intruder.
It's a vampire, definitely of the male persuasion and he's looking at her with a crooked smile and raised eyebrow as he strums a blood red axe bass sitting on his lap. He floats in the air like he's lounging on a couch.
That was indeed Marceline's Axe…
Bonnibel narrows her eyes at him, her eyes surveying his appearance as her body tenses. She has to stifle a gasp.
… You could almost call him beautiful. Almost.
A red flannel shirt, matching converse and dark skinny jeans enclose long sinewy arms and legs. His wild mane of short, windswept black hair falls into crimson red eyes that adorn a face that is angular and youthful, lit up by a mischievous smile.
'His face, those eyes… It's… They're…'
"Marceline…" She murmurs, her fingers touching her lips.
The Vampire's ashen face immediately darkens and his mouth twists into an expression of displeasure, a fang curving over his lower lip.
"Marshall Lee." He says bluntly.
She blinks in confusion and he clears his throat impatiently as his feet touch the ruined floor.
"Are you deaf or something? My name is Marshall Lee." He corrects as he steps before her, looking down at the queen with eyes blazing red as embers. "Marshall Lee the Vampire King."
End Part 1
A/N: Yay. =)
