This story was inspired by a Hannibal fanfiction of archiveofourown by the name of "revelation", by fightlikeagirl. I do not own this idea and I do not own the characters in this story.

The temple is glowing with the flickering light of candles. The air is thick with incense, but there is nobody around for it to choke. There is no sound.

Against the back wall of the temple, there is a statue of the goddess, as tall as the ceiling, with her hair painted raven-black and with rubies adorning her lips and opals in place of her pupils. The goddess, Darquesse (though she does not like the name), is beautiful and wrathful even in this form, making those who look upon her tremble in fear.

A lone figure kneels in front of the statue, his deep black robes covering his hands and his face. He kneels and prays tonight, as he has done every night for a hundred, and as he will every night as long as his goddess wishes.

Many years ago, Skulduggery Pleasant was a sorcerer, who was fighting in a war. He felt invincible, like he could not be killed because so often, he would face certain death and come out laughing.

Then, he died. Then, he came back to life, a bag of bones. To this day, he does not know why.

Soon after he reassembled himself and got some clothes, the goddess had spoken.

Skeleton, the voice had whispered. At the time, it had been impossibly quiet and weak

"Yes?" he had said out loud, tilting his head to the side. He had wondered if he was going insane.

I have work for you, the voice said. I'm not in your head. I am a goddess.

"A goddess?" Skulduggery had asked skeptically. "Are you sure I'm not just insane?"

You know me as Darquesse. Would you help me?

A month later, Skulduggery built the first temple of Darquesse the world had seen in centuries, and devoted his life to worshipping the goddess who had chosen him.

Skulduggery Pleasant brought the cult of Darquesse back into the world, and his goddess grew strong.

She wasn't as he imagined a death goddess – she was happy, at times, and sulked at others. She was almost child-like, in the way she asked questions about his magic, even though she could glean the information directly from his mind, and she had an innocence about her sometimes, when she spoke of things he didn't think the divine could understand. Like love, and loss.

When she first spoke with Skulduggery, he had pictured her as a lonely girl who needed a mortal to help her grow.

Now, he pictures her as a confident woman, and feels almost proud.

Skulduggery lights the candles in the temple with a wave of his hand. He pauses in front of the statue, and bows deeply.

You don't need to do that, the goddess tells him, and the sound is so clear she could almost be behind him, whispering in his ear.

"I want to," he says to the statue. "It's a sign of respect."

Then I should bow to you, the goddess reasons, and Skulduggery chuckles.

"If you wish, my lady."

Don't do that, either. I told you, it's Valkyrie. Is that so hard? Not my lady, not Darquesse.

"I have devoted my life to your worship. You are a goddess, I am a man. It is hard not to address you as my superior."

But you're not just some follower. You're the follower. You are my voice on Earth. I need you. Unfortunately. There is a teasing tone in her voice.

Skulduggery bows to the statue again, and if he had lips, he would smile. His goddess does not speak again, but her presence lingers, a warmth in his soul that comforts him through the day.

On days when his goddess speaks to him, it much easier to forget his past. Knowing that Valkyrie has seen into his mind and soul, has seen his past and his future, comforts him, because she stays with him still, and her forgiveness and acceptance means everything to him.

A man comes into the temple and Skulduggery assists him in slaughtering a goat at Valkyrie's alter. The man shivers as he feels the goddess accept his gift, and after a quick prayer, he hurries out of the temple.

As Skulduggery burns the carcass, Valkyrie speaks. They do it out of fear. They don't love me. Why are they afraid of me?

"You are death," Skulduggery says gently, moments like these are when his goddess seems most human. He thinks to the oldest stories in which she appeared. "You are death and it is foretold that one day, your touch will cover all the lands, and nobody will be spared. They believe that by praying to you, worshiping you and sacrificing to you, they will be spared from... the end of the world that you are to bring."

That's ridiculous. Why would I do that? Why would I kill everyone?

"I don't know. I don't think you will. It does seem ridiculous."

There is silence, and Skulduggery starts to think that his goddess has left him again. When the goat is burned and he has returned inside the temple to change into fresh robes (his current ones reek with blood and smoke), she speaks again.

Skulduggery?

"Yes?"

Do you love me?

Before he died, Skulduggery had a family. He had a wife and children he loved completely, and when they died, he thought he would never truly be able to love again. Then his goddess came to him, and spoke to him as a confidant and a friend, and the pain started easing. The memories started fading, until he thought of his life in two parts: then, and now. Now had started when he woke up, fleshless with the goddess whispering in his ear.

"I love you with my entire soul," Skulduggery murmurs to his goddess. "Of course I do."