Oh man what even am I doing. Just a really off-handed idea I had because I drew this picture: aeleusienzo(.)deviantart(.)com/#/d4o6qnr and listened to this song: youtuberepeat(.)com/watch/?v=dcNEOQ6Cj7U&feature=related
Take out the parantheses. Like I always say with my fics that I'm really unsure about, I may or may not continue this. If people like it I won't not continue it, but I'm not really...super duper intent on finishing this. XD
It's super AU guys. Prepare yourself because I don't even-
It was no secret that when they found the woman, beaten and dead with a bundle wrapped tightly in her arms, it had been the work of bandits. Her body was wrapped in such a way that it seemed she had relented her belongings to the bandits, the only thing she cared to protect the small bundle wrapped in cool brown, cotton blankets.
They had not expected it, not a single one of them. When the Signless went to move that cold contorted corpse, something stopped him short. A small squeak that he couldn't quite place at first. He was nervous, expecting to see large rats eating at the woman's innards, but nay. After saying a small prayer with his rosary, he gathered the courage to adjust the body onto its back, revealing the little pile of blankets underneath.
He wondered for a moment if it was a loaf of bread wrapped into a loose bundle. Perhaps the woman was trying to protect it in the hopes of getting it to her children. He sighed and grabbed the bridge of his nose, but suddenly the bundle squirmed, causing the Signless a moment of confusion before he realized what it could have been.
Carefully, his clawed fingers grabbed one of the blanket's edges, and he peeled the blanket away, revealing a tiny child underneath. It was almost too tiny. The size of its head alone was no bigger than the Signless' hand.
He stood, regarding the small audience before him with a slight clearing of his throat. His eyes laid on his friend, the Summoner, and for a moment he had to do a double take from descendant to ancestor- or that's certainly what it seemed. His breath caught in his throat and he looked back to the child, scooping it up in his hand.
"What is it?" Summoner finally spoke up, the slightest bit of hesitation apparent under his tone.
The Signless didn't answer, merely stared at the child a bit harder, before he turned to Summoner, bowed and took a light step back, mimicking the sacred act of bequeathing a treasure unto some lucky soul. The child pushed the blanket from its face, wiggling its nose in slight irritation.
The already quiet gathering grew deathly silent. Summoner himself could only stare for a long time, tight-lipped and hesitant.
The minute he had laid eyes on the child he knew he belonged to him.
Summoner took a few hesitant steps forward, looking down at the Signless who peered up at him from under his hood, silently encouraging him until the Summoner took the child as if handling something of the greatest fragility, the little one's body easily fitting into his hand, the head fitting perfectly into his other palm.
His head tilted ever so slightly as the child's large eyes locked onto his, the familiarity apparent even to an underdeveloped infant. Summoner's eyes searched, searched for some kind of confirmation of from the child but of course he received nothing but a warm, adoring look in return.
He looked to the Signless who's back was rigid and had an uncertain smile on his face. Why? The Summoner had no idea. All he knew was the newly born infant cupped lightly in his hands was something like a miracle.
Even the most aloof of Summoner's followers could see that the infant meant more to Summoner than anyone ever had. Even the Signless whom the Summoner had known since childhood didn't compare to the wayward child the Summoner had come to name Tavros.
The infant was never let out of Summoner's sight. Not once was he left in the arms of a stranger for more than a minute except for the Dolorosa who had firsthand experience raising the Signless himself, as well as the Summoner who had never know his parents.
She was a godsend to the unsuspecting father whom had no idea what to even feed a child. She taught the Summoner who to bathe the child, cloth the child, feed the child, she had even taught him a lullaby that Tavros had thoroughly come to enjoy, having been lulled to sleep every time its melodic notes reached his small pointy ears.
The two were absolutely inseparable, and Tavros, whom was only of a couple months now, held a love for his father that was so palpably obvious, no one could ignore it.
It wasn't until Tavros was four months old that things seemed to go horribly, awfully, unimaginably wrong.
They, the Summoner, Signless, and their followers, had gone to preach equality and ratification of blood-caste to try and gain a larger following. It would be the first time the Summoner would be leaving the camp without Tavros nearby. He could feel the awful boiling bile in the pit of his stomach and it made him feel absolutely sickly, but they wouldn't be gone for long, or too far away. Tavros would be in the care of the Dolorosa.
It wasn't a few hours later that a thin and ravaged yellow-blood came running and screaming into the crowd, flailing his arms and gasping for breaths.
It took one small look, a loose, cross-armed gesture, and that was all before the Summoner jumped from the makeshift podium set up in the town square and took off running, followed closely by the Signless and a group of curious citizens.
The Summoner's eyes darted from tent to tent, from food storage to injured follower. His breath caught when he saw his tent, standing erect against the wreckage and a feeling of dread filled him. His eyes caught the familiar indigo of a waving flag, dressed in the blood of his friends who were groaning and crawling around, trying to tend to one another's wounds.
"Mother!" The Signless' voice finally brought him back to reality, sent a jolt of energy down his spine and into his legs and he sprinted to the entrance of his tent, spotting the Dolorosa lying unconscious on the floor. The manger the Dolorosa had rigged from the cattle feed laid neatly where it had been. He approached it, something small underneath it.
Perhaps-
He was too nervous to think. He couldn't even comprehend what he was feeling. For now it was a numbness, unbeknownst of what would happen. Would there be a washing relief of seeing his sleeping son- his pride and joy- still resting peacefully in his manger? Or would it be a crushing reality of a more plausible situation.
His eyes were wide and he didn't even know it. His breathing was ragged. He could sense the Signless there, behind him, holding his unconscious mother and simultaneously watching him and her, wondering who he'd have to keep from dying first.
The Summoner pulled back the blankets, shock and grief striking him in one fell swoop. Left there in the middle of the manger was Tavros' favorite rattle- he'd be inconsolable without it. Something told him the Grand Highblood knew that. He took the rattle in his large hands, clutching it tightly as he fell to his knees and let out an enraged roar.
The Grand Highblood smirked at the child in his hand. He fit easily in one of his abnormally large, yet oddly proportional, palms. He gazed at the child with something like a mocking father's love.
"I've been hearing rumors of you for these five months now," he cooed with pseudo-sweetness. "I've been searching for that bitch for a good long while. They said they disposed of you, the loads of rats, but nay. It's just as well. You led me straight to his camp and now he'll come to me willingly rather than by force."
Tavros' brow wrinkled when he finally got a good look at he large troll. He was monstrous, even compared to his own father who was by no means small. He made a low whimpering in his throat before he weakly began to cry, causing the Grand Highblood's face to contort in disgust. "Child!" he roared, summoning his own young son. The roar caused the entire castle to shake, frightening the weak-blooded staff that were bustling around on shaky malnourished limbs.
Gamzee greeted his father in the throne room, performing a courteous bow with an affable smile on his face. "Yes sir?" he chirped, giving a sloppy salute with his slender childish hands.
The Grand Highblood sneered cantankerously at his son's barely-there expression. He shoved the small crying child into the older one's arms, glaring hard. "Congratulations, we've got a new slave. Give him to then Threshecutioner. He'll know what to do."
"Yes sir!" Gamzee said again, grinning like an idiot as he laxly made his way out of the throne room, crooning and tickling the baby's tummy to keep him from crying.
"Hey Threshy!" Gamzee called, sidling into the weaponry room. He sniffed and wiped his nose, jumping up onto the counter with Tavros tucked into his arm. "Got a new slave motherfucker."
The Threshecutioner gasped when he spotted the Indigo-blood upon his re-entering the room from the furnace area. He got on one knee, bowing deeply as he crawled over. "Young Master, what has you gracing me with your presence today?" he asked, charcoal smeared on his face that was breaking into a nervous sweat.
"Man. My father got a new slave or some shit. This little motherfucker's fucking tiny and adorable. Don't know what use he is or whatever, but he said you'd be down with helping him out or whatever," Gamzee held the baby out to the Threshecutioner who took him as gingerly as possible.
"Oh dear...He's expecting me to teach such a young thing the intricacies and regulations of slavehood?" He took one mighty fist and wiped his brow, trembling at the thought of failing his Master the Grand Highblood. "I suppose I will try my best."
"Don't hurt he little motherfucker okay?" Gamzee asked, his face taking on something that was almost protective. "Little fucker's all small and fragile."
"Young Master, it's extremely inappropriate for someone of such a young age and high-blood to be using such disgusting language," the Threshecutioner scolded the young boy who ignored him and jumped off the counter. "Whatever motherfucker-" he reached up and took Tavros from the Threshecutioner. "I'll take care-a him cus you look busy and shit."
