The sky was a solid blanket of slate grey clouds, padded and undulating. They covered the heavens, stretching from horizon to horizon, blocking out any trace of blue. But rather than making everything feel enclosed – as if the world were nothing more than a diorama kept within a tupperware box – it instead highlighted how expansive the sky was, how it stretched on forever, beyond what the eye could see and into infinity. The sun tried to futilely punch its way through their cover, but all it did was succeed in making the clouds glow in varying shades of grey.
The world sat, dampened by prior rain. It shone, water catching the light and highlighting it, giving everything, the trees, the plants, the hedgerows, even the distant hills, a reflective glow. Even the very air, the space above heads, felt luminous and buoyant, as if it was fresh and new, the first day of its existence. Though there was a slight chill present, nature proving that she could nip, it didn't make the day unpleasant. If anything, it made the day seem more special, made the world seem even more wondrous.
The world was being reborn, and she knew it.
Overhead a stormbird sailed by, cutting a straight line across the sky before it was obscured by the curve of a hill.
Emily watched it go. If she had been of a more poetically-minded bent, she might have considered it to be a portent of sorts; an invisible ribbon trailing through the air between them, linking them together through the similarities of their situation. But Emily was not that way inclined, and merely watched it disappear, a vague, indistinct thought of Gabilan flitting briefly through her head, before continuing on her way.
It was to be a day of changes.
Ahead, Trellis quietly watched as she caught up; neither of them commented on her sudden halt. Quiet seemed to be the watchword of the day. It sat between them, a solid, silent barrier. Something was lurking within it, waiting to hatch. Together, they silently tromped across a field; the wet grass was doing its best to soak through their shoes, whilst their soles steadily gained an uneven coating of mud. When it came to walking across fields, there really was no such thing as a stable gait; the uneven ground meant that walking was more of a rhythm-less stepping with the occasionally lurch or sway when either the churned-up ground gave way beneath your feet, or a hidden patch of mud sent your balance off-kilter, or your foot discovered a concealed rabbit burrow.
In light of that, it was no surprise that at some point Emily had Trellis started holding hands. Neither of them would have been really able to say who grabbed whose hand, but there they were, unsteadily tramping along, grass rustling beneath their feet, hand in hand. In a way, it did make things a little more difficult as they were now directly tied to one another's unstable balance, now free to be yanked this way and that as one or the other's balance wavered. At the same time however, in a slightly paradoxically way, it had a modest stabilising effect, giving a bit of weight to anchor them.
And besides, it was their constant. For a moment, Emily's mind drifted.
35,000 feet in the air, give or take. Outside, the night bared her icy fangs with winds that cut and chilled. Planks creaked and groaned around them as they walked down a darkened corridor, a silence borne of embarrassment sat between them. It was narrow enough to force personal bubbles to overlap, close enough for hands to accidentally touch. She grabbed his hand, and set what would eventually become a habit in motion…
If Emily had to be frank (which honestly, wasn't hard), she would readily admit that neither she nor Trellis were… "good" at physical affection outside of their respective families.
(Granted, since coming to Alledia Emily's family had made the startling transition from 'small' to 'large', now encompassing a wide assortment of robots, but it was a circle within a circle. In a complete inverse, Trellis' family had started out fragmented, and had shrunk from there, now only containing one other member.)
It was a fact that over the years they'd gotten better with one another when it came to touch, that much was true. Even in light of this however, somehow hand-holding had become their default method of affection with one another. It didn't inspire the fidgety discomfort that extended physical contact outside her family circle did. It felt safe. Which was perhaps a little ridiculous and even daresay, ironic, given that her boyfriend had nails that were a knife-edge away from being outright claws.
In that regard they were the polar opposites of Navin and Aly, who straight out of the gate had been (and still were) practically magnetised to one another, doling out physical affection like it was going out of style; at any given time they were hugging, or high-fiving one another, or holding hands, or sitting snuggled up together as they read, or just... touching each other in little ways with the ease of an old couple.
A startled cry broke the air. Emily's head snapped around just in time to see an alarmed bird frantically rise out of the distant hedge. She only had time to catch a fleeting glance; it appeared to be some sort of heavy-bodied game bird, Windsor's answer to a pheasant perhaps? Whatever it was, it madly flapped away, the terrific beating of its wings and alarm call echoing across the fields.
Then it was gone.
A hush descended once more. The sounds of nature resumed. The distant soughing of wind echoed high above. Songbirds called to one another from the hedgerows and the trees.
Emily tugged softly on Trellis' hand, still unwilling to break their own personal lull. Together they continued on.
oOo
"We're going for a walk, Mom," Emily called, as she shrugged on a coat.
"All right," came the muffled reply. A second later Karen appeared in the doorway. "Make sure you wear a- oh!"
"Already wearing one." Emily fastened her coat. She shot a smile (borne of a small triumph) at her Mom as she did so.
Karen's gaze flicked to Trellis, standing quietly to one side, already dressed for the outdoors. For a split second her own smile faltered, and Emily could see a realisation pass through her Mom's eyes; the next second her smile was back, as bright as ever. A certain uncomfortable pang went through Emily's chest at what was to come.
"Take care, and stay safe."
"We will," said Emily. At the same time, Trellis gave a single nod.
With a brief blast of cold air, they were gone, the door shutting behind them with a heavy click.
For a moment Karen watched them from the window, a small pair who steadily drew further away. The smile dropped from her face once more, and a small frown creased her brow. Then she shook it off, and returned to the living room. They were a strong pair of kids. From his perch on the sofa, Leon looked up. A book was clutched between his paws. His pince-nez were perched delicately on his muzzle, and Karen secretly thought that they gave him a bit of a refined look. She almost giggled at the thought, before stopping herself. Really!
"Have they gone?" he asked.
"Yes." Karen nodded.
She re-joined Leon on the sofa, picking up her own book. It was a bit of a close fit; whoever had made that particular sofa had either gotten the measurements slightly wrong or were trying to promote romance. Probably the former.
As the pair resumed their reading, Karen grasped Leon's free paw with her own hand, and their fingers interlocked. They sat like that, content.
oOo
Gradually the fields sloped upwards into hills, and the going became a little more even. Not by much, as there was now a definite incline, but at least there were fewer warrens to potentially trip on. Underneath her thick coat, Emily found herself beginning to sweat a little. The weather might have been chill, but hill-climbing was certainly a warming activity. They weren't the first to climb this particular hill, as a track had been worn away, exposing the chalk foundation beneath. It snaked up and around the hill's ridges, a clear indicator of where multiple people had been and gone, the majority deciding that this was the easiest route up.
Emily cast a glance at the peak. Where the light hit it, it almost appeared to glow. She nodded to herself, mentally making a decision. That was where she was going to do it, with the sky stretching into forever above them, and the ground rolling away beneath their feet. As if descending down the hill itself, her gaze then dropped to Trellis. He was looking resolutely ahead, and continued to do so for all of a heartbeat. Feeling the weight of her gaze, his eyes flicked to her. There was a silent question in them. Emily simply shook her head, and squeezed his hand.
On they went.
oOo
When the news came, no one was taken by surprise. It had been like a wound that'd gotten infected: they had all watched as it gradually worsened, the flesh turning an angry red and gaining an unhealthy shine. There had been suspicions, strange happening, followed by a slew of investigations, reports, and endless batches and bundles of information and data. So when the conclusion had been reached, when the wound burst open, leaking a mixture of thick, yellow pus and watery blood, it was completely expected.
And the wound was this:
The worlds were splitting.
Oh, there were countless ways to analogise it, concentrating all those endless reams of data into easy-to-visualise images: oil and water, a split end eventually dividing the entire hair, a tree breaking in half under the weight of its boughs. But no matter how it was dressed up or softened, at the end of the day it was still a stark truth:
The worlds were splitting.
oOo
It wasn't long now, Emily reckoned, until she and Trellis would reach the hill's peak. A strange sort of fizzing excitement sat within her, although perhaps excitement wasn't quite the right word for it. Definitely not. It was more a buzzing mixture of anticipation and anxiety that deluded itself into thinking it was excitement.
As a distraction, Emily gazed down at the landscape below. She scanned it, looking out for one thing in particular and….
Ah!
There it was. Looking for all the world like it was crouched in the grass (which was surprisingly close to the truth), sat Charnon House. From this high up it looked so small, more akin to a doll's house than an actual home that housed a small army of robots.
'I wonder which room Mom is in?' Emily thought.
Because it was strange in a way, to see your life compacted into such a small space. Well, wherever her Mom was, Emily was certain that Leon would most likely be there too. They'd tried to be discreet, but Emily had caught the way they looked at one another when they thought that no-one was around. It reminded her of the expression on Trellis' face when she caught him gazing at her, when he thought she wasn't watching.
Or the expression she apparently had when he caught her looking at him.
Navin wasn't with them for once, instead off staying with Aly's family; the pair had always been close, but these days they were practically velcroed to one another: any attempt at separation resulted in a harsh ripping sound, most likely coming from their hearts.
Hmm, velcro. Now that she thought about it, Emily hadn't seen hide nor hair of the stuff since coming to Alledia. She supposed they simply hadn't invented it yet; Alledia seemed to be an entirely confusing blend when it came to their technology. On the one hand, she was looking at a walking house. On the other hand: no velcro.
Emily shook her head, aware that she'd drifted off-topic.
As she walked, Emily tried to guess where the various house robots were too, mentally placing them in the different rooms. At this time of day Miskit would probably be in the kitchen… Would Cogsley be in the engine room? Maybe, maybe not, depending on whether he had Dagno with him, and whether the latter was in a "chewing" mood…. Morrie would probably be with Cogsley, fretting as was per the norm… Ruby would most likely be upstairs… Bottle and Theodore were more difficult to place, but they'd definitely be together….
The hill's peak grew ever closer.
oOo
There is always a choice.
The Hayes family could return to Earth, at the cost of being cut off from Alledia completely. It would mean severing any and all relationships made since they first arrived, losing the family and friends they had made over the years.
Never the twain shall meet, ever again.
Or, they could stay and-
"Die?" said Emily.
"Not immediately," said Cogsley. He shifted his weight, trying to balance both a rather precarious stack of papers and Dagno, who was happily sleeping draped around Cogsley's shoulders. "But within a couple of years, yes. You'll die."
A stunned silence had radiated out, tinged with frost. It was so quiet in fact, that Emily could pick out the mechanical hum of each robot. Later on, that was what Emily would remember the most; that dreadful, leaden silence, the faces of her friends and family, extended and otherwise, all pale, all wearing variations of the same horrified expression. Even the robots looked blanched and sallow, despite having no blood or circulatory system. There was a sudden pressure around her hand; Trellis was gripping it tightly.
She listened with half an ear as Cogsley went on to explain in long, complex terms the how and why, scientific and magical terminology mixing together in a half-melded mess that was all disaster. In the end, Emily privately surmised it as this:
Each world was a body, originally connected, like a pair of conjoined twins. Whilst the bodies were fused together, both of them shared the same bloodstream, and neither minded material from the other body travelling through it. Blood from one body could happily sit in the other, and happily be accepted there. But once the bodies split into two, any material foreign to that body would be treated like a virus and expunged from the system.
Cogsley had been especially thorough in emphasising that particular final point.
Leave and live.
Stay and die.
Which was going to be?
oOo
The world stretched out around them, an endless vista. Admittedly the view wasn't as impressive as if they'd been up on a mountain, but Emily felt she was hardly going drag them up one and go through all that effort just for what she had planned. Now that'd be overkill.
"So," said Trellis, the first thing he'd said since leaving the house. It was a question disguised as the start of a statement.
The effervescent mixture of emotions in Emily buzzed away, now joined by sadness. Emily gritted her teeth, there was no other way around it: this was going to hurt. She and Trellis stood facing one another, still holding hands, and for a fleeting second Emily wondered if they were visible from Charnon House. She carefully took his free hand, an action to steady herself, as much as anything. That, and to delay the event for just a microsecond longer.
No use in dragging it out, just get it done, like ripping off a plaster.
Emily firmly locked eyes with Trellis.
"We're going back to Earth."
She was correct in predicting that it would hurt. As soon as she spoke, her heart felt like it immediately cracked in two, and was swimming in a sea of acid. It'd hurt back when they'd first decided, backed up by all the implications and hard truths that that action carried. Over time she'd acclimatised to the pain, and it'd scabbed over. Now it was back again in full force with re-enforcements, made all the worse because it was a truth sitting out in the open; any other potential paths and choices were now closed off. Sealed. No entry.
That was the answer to the question, the choice that she and her family had decided on.
If Emily and Trellis had been of a romantic bent, that their tale was one of grand romance and sweeping gestures, then the answer would have been obvious: stay, stay and die! It'd be a tragedy for the ages, one that people would surely weep over at how beautiful it was! They were staying together, even though it meant certain death for one of them! Leaving the other to live on alone, eternally pining for their lost love!
But they both were far too sensible-minded for such a thing. They had already seen death in far too many forms, and they knew from Cogsley's explanation what sort of exit would arise in this situation. It would not be a case of living on a countdown with a solid date sitting at the end, that when hit, would result in an instantaneous death. No, it would be a miserable, drawn-out affair, filled with nothing but suffering on both sides. What was beautiful about seeing someone die, seeing someone you love slowly lose their strength as their body gradually shut down? It would be horrendous to experience, more akin to a slow torture than anything else. There would only be stress, and sorrow, and suffering, and finally a relief when their body finally gave out and they died.
It was then that Trellis did something unexpected. He kissed her, his face shooting forward with such force that it made their teeth click. Emily was surprised, both by the kiss and by the fact that he was the one to initiate it; usually she was the one to start such things. It lasted for all of a second, ending just as suddenly as it'd begun, and leaving Emily with both a curious warmth in her chest and a slightly flushed face.
They were still holding hands, but Trellis' grip had tightened, his bones and knuckles jutting starkly out. Emily carefully tucked the memory of the sensation away in her mind.
"Thank the first Erlking," he muttered quietly, his head bowed and voice thick. Then again: "Thank the first Erlking."
Something in those words and the raw emotion they carried sparked something in Emily, and everything about the situation crashed down upon her with the force of a collapsing building. She wrenched her hands out of Trellis' grip and cannoned into him, trapping him in a fierce hug.
"Was it really that much of a surprise?" she mumbled into his shoulder.
Slowly his arms came up, enfolding her in a hug too. "Not really. I suspected what your answer would be, but…"
But emotions are stupid and I worried anyway.
Emily didn't know how long they stayed that on the hill's peak; it could have been a few minutes, it could have been half an hour. What was certain though was that the wind was especially brisk up there, and both of them were getting cold. The task was done, what'd needed to be said had been said. There was no use in hanging about up there anymore.
Hand in hand, they started back down the hill, heading for home.
oOo
Like a child reluctant to leave a birthday party, the Hayes stayed in Alledia for as long as they could, to the point where their metaphorical parents were having to drag them out of the door. The day of their departure arrived all too soon. On that day, Emily found herself standing in front of a door she'd seen only once before, in a memory that now felt like a dream. The air felt as thick as treacle, making everything feel like it had a hazy, unreal quality. Indeed, everything about the event felt unreal, like they all were taking part in a terrible joke, acting out their roles; any moment now one of them would break the façade, proclaiming it to be merely some dreadful prank. The spell would be broken, and they'd leave, all smiles, returning to Charnon House, safe and filled with relief that it hadn't been serious.
If only.
Instead there was a great deal of hugging, and crying, and attempts to look strong that ended in miserable failure. As for Charnon House, they'd left it to the robots with Vigo as their master. It was a title he took in name only, just so that they would continue to live, thanks to the little quirk of 'Must Have A Master' that Silas had programmed into them. As she went around saying farewell, Emily tried to fix everyone in her mind. Not as they were now, mourning the upcoming loss, but as they had been during her adventures. She moved from person to person like a wraith; Miskit looking on the verge of tears despite having no tear ducts, as he handed her a soft knitted scarf; Vigo patting her on the shoulder, trying and failing not to look like a father who was losing his child for the second time; Dagno chirping and scrambling across her shoulders, rubbing himself against her as Cogsley gruffly stumbled his way through a goodbye speech; Luger smiling his familiar, dreamlike smile, apologising for past actions and assuring her that they would all meet again someday, maybe not wearing the same faces or forms, but they would meet again nonetheless; Aly proclaiming that she would have liked Emily to be her sister in-law one day; and on and on it went…
Finally, there was just one person for her to say goodbye to. It would have been a lie to say that he was going to be the most difficult to leave – every bond she'd made was equally important to Emily, and she felt it was an insult to the others to automatically give a 'romantic' bond a higher place than the rest.
That didn't mean it wasn't going to hurt like merry hell.
Emily and Trellis quietly retreated to one side, out of the immediate clamour of farewells that was going on. Neither of them were really sure how to begin, and for a good minute they simply stood staring at one another as they tried to work out what to say. Emily's gaze flicked to Navin and Aly: they were talking to Leon and were practically superglued to each other. Rrrg, this sort of situation would be easy for them- Well no, not easy, if anything they'd taken it the hardest, but this sort of… (and here Emily's mind made a vague gesture) situation. Saying goodbye to one another. Knowing what to say. Affection. In public. Curse her mind for getting hung up on such a detail.
Oh, what the heck.
"Well, I, er-" began Trellis, and that was as far as he got before Emily drew him into a hug and kissed him.
It was soft, sweet, and a little sad.
It was goodbye.
"I love you," she murmured into his ear. "But don't forsake future love for a memory."
"Only if you promise me the same." Trellis' voice was low burr against her cheek. "I love you too."
"I promise."
"As do I."
When the time came for them to leave, Leon grasped Karen's hands, and looked solemnly between her, Emily, and Navin.
"Be swift," he said. "The pathway will not be open for long."
The door didn't so open as it did gape, a wide yawning passage into darkness. Emily cast a quick look back at everyone, her eyes coming to rest on Trellis. Then they steeped through; the door shut with a thunderous noise, and she and her family hurried away into darkness. They dashed along the passageway like they were possessed, and within less than a minute they found themselves spat out into the basement of Silas' Earth home.
oOo
Like a curtain being drawn between the two, Earth and Alleida separated. Life went on irregardless, almost as if nothing had changed. And for a lot of people, it hadn't.
But for the Hayes family, the hurt stayed with them for a long time. Each bore it in their own way; when no-one was around there was a heavy slope to Karen's shoulders, the smile dropping from her face as she started off into space, looking not across distance, but time. Navin kept up an unusually chipper façade, one that was obviously fragile and trying to disguise the emotions laying beneath. Emily retreated into herself once more, haunted memories and the habits of her own mind. Often she would think of something to tell Trellis, some way to tease him, only to remember that he was on the other side of a divide that she could not cross, no matter how hard she might try. It was a hard-learned lesson, one beaten into her by her time in Windsor. In those painful moments, Emily would comfort herself with the fact that even though they were parted, they were both still alive.
The little family went forward with their heads held high, and slowly things changed. Over time their emotions underwent a metamorphosis; eventually there came the day where they were able to think fondly about Alledia and the loved ones they'd left there. There would always be a tingle of sadness lurking within those memories, ready to come to the forefront if given the attention, but that was okay.
Even if they were all separated, they were alive.
And their memories were a fondly-read scrapbook.
oOo
The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and all in all it was a gloriously hot day. However it'd been one of many Gloriously Hot Days in a row, and so the heat had changed from being a pleasant novelty to a cumbersome annoyance. As a result, everyone was taking refuge inside the house. They sprawled around like cats on a wall, resting, biding their time till the hottest part of the day had passed. Even the house robots seemed affected, moving in a more lackadaisical manner than usual.
Up in Emily's room it was dim, still, and most importantly, cool. The odd chink of sunlight poked here and there through gaps in the drawn curtains, casting warm beams onto the floor. From her perch on the bed, Emily watched the dust motes dance lazily in the light. Her thumb traced a leisurely path across the back of Trellis' hand, his arm hooked around her waist. She could feel the soft pulse of his heartbeat against her back, smell his musky scent, and feel the warmth his body gave out. A smile drifted across Emily's lips.
Somehow, despite sitting upright and with her leaning on him, Trellis had fallen asleep. It was almost funny in a way, as he was firmly sandwiched between her and the wall. Emily snuggled against him; he was such a dour-looking fellow, but he made her so unmistakably happy. And when she compared how he had once been with how he was now, well, Emily could tell that the reserve was true: she made him happy.
There came a rhythmic clanking from the corridor outside, the unmistakable footsteps of a robot. Judging by the weight of the tread, Emily guessed it was Bottle. She tensed slightly as they passed by her door, half-expecting a knock followed by a friendly face poking in.
But nothing happened. The footsteps instead clanked away down the corridor, some other destination in mind. Emily felt herself relax. In the lull that followed, listening carefully, Emily could make out small, indistinct sounds from within the house. They weren't anything particularly concrete that she could immediately recognise, just… sounds, really, that gave the impression of distant movement and actions.
From behind her there came a soft hitch in breathing, and the arm's grip around her waist tightened slightly; Trellis had awoken. Still heavily dosed in sleep, he murmured something which Emily didn't catch, then buried his face in her shoulder.
In that second it was as if Emily's mind took a mental, three-dimensional snapshot. She knew without a doubt that she would always remember this moment; it would stay filed away in her memory forever, free to be taken out and relieved in the years to come. But it was no mere flat photograph, for everything would be stored within it: the gloomy bedroom with its scattering of personal items and dusty beams of light, the sunny day outside, the house sitting around them and enclosing them all, the distant, small noises of the others, the sensation of the bed and rumpled blanket beneath her, Trellis sitting solid against her back, the thump of his heart, the warmth of his breath as it tickled her shoulder.
The mixture of warmth and love within her chest.
Turning slightly, Emily pressed a kiss to his head. For a brief second an eye peeked out at her; the next moment there was a rather lumpy, shifting sensation behind her as Trellis stretched. He snaked both arms back around her waist, and there was the sensation of a kiss on the top of her head.
"How long was I asleep for?" he asked.
"About fifteen minutes. You're a bit too bony to make a good pillow," Emily teased.
"Maybe next time I'll fall asleep on you, then we'll see who makes a better pillow."
"Hah, no!" Emily tried to wriggle out of his grip, but Trellis simply held on tighter. Then- "Arhg!"
Emily shot forward, the arms holding her back suddenly gone. She overbalanced, and toppled onto the floor with a thump.
Slowly she rose like a thunderous goddess rising up from the depths of the sea, towering over the bed.
"Oh, you're in for it now, pillow!"
She sprang.
There was a cynical part that lived within Emily, born in response to her Dad's death. It never failed to cast a harsh light on things, to assume the worst.
Maybe she and Trellis wouldn't always be in love. Maybe, in the future, they'd drift apart. Maybe there would come a day where they wouldn't even speak to one another, and things would be that sour between them. Maybe, maybe, maybe…
But for now, as Emily tried to pin a protesting Trellis beneath her (in a move that looked entirely inappropriate without context), she ignored that cynical fragment.
They had here and now, and that was enough.
The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and she was in love.
oOoOo
AN: This fic was born out of an amalgamation of several things:
1. I've been having a… less than stellar time recently, which, er probably explains a lot about why this fic Is The Way It Is
2. When I was about 17 or 18 I had a period where I went for lot of walks in the countryside surrounding my home, so this is sorta born from that. It's also born from the view I have when I ride the bus to work, and additionally, the chalk hill is another landmark near me. Alternate title for this fic: Emily and Trellis take a walk in the English Countryside ahahahahahaha
3. Inspiration for the final segment was born from a picture over on Deviantart by the talented saphir93, titled End Of A War. Additionaly, I also took inspiration from His Dark Materials, the ending of Hotarubi no Mori e, and the ending of a random doujin I read. Not so much the endings themselves, more the shape and emotions of them, if that makes any sense…
4. The title is taken from Birdy's cover of "Young Blood". I recommend you go take a listen if you want to get a musical feel for this fic, because I feel like it's the fic's… theme, or something. The original version by The Naked And Famous is excellent, too!
5. YES THAT IS A VAGUE BOTTLEDORE REFERENCE JUST 4 U THEYASHA
6. And yes, that is a reference to Hands, Scars, Hands in the first segment.]
OKAY THANKS FOR READING THIS LONG-ARSE AUTHOR'S NOTE, OKAY BYE