Okay, this is a shameless fluff piece, and I take full responsibility for any and all OOCness.
Skullduck: You should. You wrote it.
Me: *ignores irritating muse* What I'm trying to say is that I own nothing. Well, except the open-ended concept this story has, which I haven't seen in any stories on here before. Oh, and Skullduck.
Skullduck: *glares and clacks beak threateningly* You don't own me. I do as I please.
Me: *cowers* Ok I don't own Skullduck either. Just read the story.
Heart-Shaped Locket
Holly stood in the centre of her small living room, wondering if Trouble owned a dictionary. If he did, then he needed to look up the word 'tidying', which he claimed he'd been doing to her apartment in the three years she'd been in Limbo. The place looked like a bomb had exploded in the middle of the room, scattering dust and dirt over everything and sending random items of furniture flying to the edges of the room. She picked up a plate gingerly by the rim. It had it's own ecosystem. She decided that she needed to either fumigate the whole place or just move, whichever was cheaper.
She relegated the small pile of mouldy plates to the kitchen sink and poured boiling water on them. Then she returned to the living room and set about the arduous task of straightening the furniture. Firstly she righted the sofa. She attempted to remove some of the dirt, and a cloud of dust formed around her. She choked and escaped to her bedroom. It was marginally cleaner in there, just extremely grimy. There was a heap of clothes on the floor, and she vaguely recalled throwing them there before going to bed on the night before the whole Limbo incident. She stuffed them into the washing basket, then ventured back into the living room. The dust cloud had dissipated, but left a murky fog over the room. She gritted her teeth and vowed to pay Trouble back for this. Commander or not, she was going to pay him a visit with buzz baton in hand. She was sure Foaly would lend her one. She wouldn't actually use it, but it would make her point.
She nudged a pile of unidentifiable junk with her toe. A gleam of sliver caught her eye. She bent down and pulled free a long chain with a locket pendant. It was in the shape of a heart, and had a tiny silver key that was used to open it. She remembered her mother giving it to her the day after her father's funeral.
"Take this Holls." Her mother still had tear tracks on her cheeks as she presented Holly with a black velvet gift box. "When the time is right, give the key to one you love."
The locket had once belonged to Holly's grandmother; she remembered seeing photos of the older elf wearing it. She unfastened the clasp and hung the pendant around her neck. The silver key was still in the lock. She twisted it, and the locket clicked open. Inside was a photograph of her grandparents, hand in hand. Holly thought for a second that she was looking at a picture of herself. She and her grandmother had the same slim figure, the same hair colour (though Holly's was shorter), and the same eyes. Eye, she reminded herself, singular. She touched the cheek under her new blue eyes, then snapped the locket shut.
The small silver key was surprisingly heavy in her hand.
'Give the key to one you love.' The words echoed in her mind, whirling around with her own confused thoughts. Easier said than done. How did she know if she loved him? And who exactly was 'him'? Two guys came immediately to mind. One was Trouble. The hero of the LEP, her best friend for decades and widely reported in the newspapers to be the best looking elf in Haven. She couldn't think of anyone more ideally suited, or more desirable. However, this was her head talking. Her heart was pulling her in two directions simultaneously. The other person in her thoughts was Artemis. If she and Trouble were the 'perfect pairing' (Lili Frond's wording, not hers), then she and Artemis were polar opposites. They were fire and ice, two trains headed for a collision of epic proportions. But recently she'd been feeling very attached to him. They'd been on dangerous missions together, and they'd even switched eyes. He'd also saved her life, almost at the expense of his own. She didn't know anyone she felt closer to. Plus, he was just as handsome as Trouble (though she'd die before she'd tell him, no need to inflate his already swollen ego). Maybe opposites really did attract.
She didn't know what to do.
The 'when the time is right' bit was easier to figure out. She'd just come back from the dead; if there was a better time to do this she didn't know when it was. It was the 'who' that was the problem. She sank onto the sofa, leaped up again when dust erupted around her, and relocated to her futon in the bedroom. She dug a piece of paper and two envelopes from the bottom of a disused drawer, and found a real ink pen half-rolled under the wardrobe. It had been at least thirty years since fairies had used such menial items, but they would serve her purpose better. For several seconds, she just stared at the paper before her. She'd more or less made her mind up, but she wasn't sure how to do this. She took a deep breath, then pulled the paper closer. On it, she wrote three words, then she sealed it into one of the envelopes. Into the other went the locket key. She addressed one to Trouble, the other to Artemis, chewed her lip over her decision, then jogged out of the apartment to deliver them before she could start second-guessing herself. She was doing the right thing, even if her head and her heart were in disagreement. She had made the right choice.
He found the envelope on his desk. On the front, in loopy handwriting, was his name. Curious. Fairies hadn't used actual pens and paper in decades. He picked up the envelope and slit the seal. Into his palm fell a slip of paper, bearing the words 'I'm so sorry'. He touched his cheek gently. Maybe that kiss hadn't meant anything after all.
He found the envelope on his desk. On the front, in loopy handwriting, was his name. Curious. Fairies hadn't used actual pens and paper in decades. He picked up the envelope and slit the seal. Into his palm fell a tiny silver key. Engraved on the side was the phrase 'key to my heart'. He smiled and touched his cheek gently. Maybe that kiss had meant something after all.
Well, that's it. You can decide who she chose, that way everyone's happy.
Skullduck: And we'll be happy if you review. Remember, all the bad things are Liris's fault!
Me: Now that's just mean! But he's right. Tell me what you liked, what you didn't. Thanks!
Love Liris and Skullduck
xxx