a/n: Well, what to say about this one? It's not really meant to be an AU, but there is one glaring difference from canon, and one difference that requires a stretch of imagination. Beyond that, my choice of pronouns for a certain hermaphrodite was very deliberate. I don't especially care for neutrals, and I wanted to see how it would effect my writing if I decided to take the grammatical road less traveled. Love it or hate it, I hope you'll let me know.

The Quality of Mercy

What are you doing here? The words entered his mind like an invitation. It always began this way. He smiled as he always did, and wondered what the answer might be. Around him the jungle was warm and dark, humid and foetid with the smell of life and growth and decay. The leaves here could die as well as they lived. There was no promise of immortality in the stone monkey's realm.

Do you really want to die? This question was a jest, a mockery pointed sharply for his benefit. They both knew no death could drag him down. But the taste of it... The sharp and subtle copper on the tongue was a reminder of all that he had been and would never be again. Every gasping, frantic, desperate moment waited in his memories for the reminder only this place could bring.

"I'm bored." He did not raise his voice. The monkey's ears were sharp and neither of them pretended to be less than what they were. "You wouldn't believe how dull it gets in paradi--" The soft swish of impending doom cut off his complaint. His lips curved into an ominous smile as he dodged the staff. It's owner struck from behind.

The claws were at his throat and the golden eyes gleamed. I am not your toy. Flesh parted beneath his jaw and the bodhisattva rolled away. They both smelled his blood on the air. He shivered his appreciation, and the monkey king sketched what might have been a bow in the clearing that surrounded them. It might also have been disdain.

The next attack was lightening fast; leap, and grasp and spin away. The staff's reach forced the challenger back, even as the claws drew him close. He raised his eyebrows and laughed a little as he twisted like water and flowed away. The monkey king laughed too. It was funny, the game they played. Kanzeon felt sweat prickle along his brow and let it paint his cheek. He felt its sting in the corner of his eye, but did not blink. A blink was an eternity to the being he now faced. Oh, to live so intensely...

"But you amuse me so," he taunted in a voice more purr than prose. A flash of red was his only warning, but it was enough. He ducked the staff, then came up under it, his curled fist slamming into a soft and sensuous neck. Immediately his opponent's reply connected with his own breast bone. Two gasps disturbed the forest. Some startled bird escaped in a flurry of iridescent wings. "I love it when you yell," he panted, smiling as he pulled the silk bands tighter around his breasts. Small wisps of hair escaped the cloth-bound knot at his nape, but those could wait.

They'd never recognize you, those petty gods. The spirit grinned – an animal's challenge of teeth – but his opponent could only agree. A foot struck his shoulder out of nowhere. He tumbled to the ground, catching a knee and wrenching it as he fell. For a moment, his face was pressed into the earth beneath the hissing king, but then he leapt away and the pressure disappeared. So did his hair ties. Silken strands entwined with leaves and dirt as he pulled himself back up.

"They don't like to get their hands dirty, most of them." He scanned the forest for golden eyes, but only the trees stood forward. He felt his heart pounding with the terror of prey, while his body moved silent as a predator. In the distance, a stream murmured over little rocks and fallen wood. Of to the east, he could hear the howlers' calls. The watching stillness wrapped the woods behind him, and he whirled to chase it down. "They'd never understand the joy of living here, down below."

He ran, footsteps nearly silent against the backdrop of animal noises. He expected the king to be close, but his breath was coming hard before a fluttering bird made him look up. In that instant, a hand grasped his shoulder and threw him sideways at a tree. He ran with it and flipped himself, using the bark as leverage and coming to land just behind his attacker. The monkey king spun around, unsurprised, but his prey twisted his arm behind him as he did. For a moment they stood desperately close, heaving chest to sweating back. Do you miss it? The question caught the prey off guard, and the stone monkey's strength prevailed. He pulled away and threw a kick to his playmate's midsection. Said playmate dodged elegantly.

"Perfection is dull," he commented wryly, tossing his head quickly to clear raven hair from his eyes. The wound on his neck was bleeding again, and he watched in amusement and darkly veiled pleasure as his opponent reveled in the sight. The monkey king licked his lips, then smiled knowingly. For an instant, he seemed to disappear, only to rematerialize far too close, shoving the bleeding god against a wall of moss-covered stone. His nose pressed against the angle of his rival's jaw, just above the cut. The one-time-human felt warm breath caress the parted skin.

But blood and pain and failure and fear... those are exciting? The sage's tongue flicked briefly against the wound. His adversary shuddered, then drove a fist into his momentarily exposed abdomen. They parted, breathing deeply and taking their places on the mosaic of long-fallen leaves.

"There's more to it than that," he admonished, still smiling, and picked up a likely tree branch he'd noticed, twirling it experimentally. "Love and sex and tenderness and comfort." The monkey king called his staff back to his hand and flicked it in a brief salute of acceptance. Tap tap CRACK. Weapons beat a rhythm to which their players danced: an odd flamenco of whirling silk and narrowly avoided agony.

You can have all those in heaven, the sage argued. His staff landed a stinging blow to the side of a delicate-looking knee. Or is it the highlighting contrast of alternatives that you miss? The bodhisattva lunged at his open side, but was slower than he should have been, appreciating the monkey king's perception. The latter spun and threw a kick at his unprepared opponent. It landed squarely on his silk-clad hip, and the god went down for the second time that afternoon.

"Yes, contrast," he gasped, rolling to sweep his assailant's feet with the branch. The monkey leapt away, but it gave Kanzeon time to bounce back to his feet. "Without it, you can die of boredom." He launched a flurry of blows at the smiling sage, but was summarily blocked. "Ennui crushes in until you're nothing but a shell of animus – undying, but not living either." He narrowed his eyes, thinking of a certain nephew on the verge of that precipice. "And the worst part is, those gods don't even realize," he noticed the monkey-king was running again, "because they've never lived."

So that's why you come to me. There was mockery in the thought. Like some supplicant come to beg for the contrast your current existence lacks. Kanzeon smiled. At last, his rival was getting overconfident. Then again, it was entirely possible the sage was goading him in turn. Equal of Heaven, for all that it had been a joke at the time, was not far from the truth. He was going to miss these battles.

Ahead, the sage had disappeared again, but the warm, prickling stillness of this glade was testimony enough of his presence. The bodhisattva leaned against a tree and let his breath hiss out a little louder, feigning fatigue before resuming his chase. This time, the hand grabbing his ankle from under a flowering bush did not catch him by surprise. He stepped on the wrist with his other foot in a feat of godlike balance, pinning it even as he brought the branch down hard on the concealing plant. The smallest grunt answered his offense. "Scream for me," he purred.

But instead, the stone monkey grabbed his branch and pulled him headlong into the foliage. The god used the momentum to leap all the way through, turning immediately to protect his back. Claws raked his side. Tough silk parted, tattered, but enough remained intact to hold him still. He shoved the hands away while laughter like summer cherries echoed in his mind. You ask too much. Love and hate, uncertainty and wisdom, pain and comfort: chaos.

"All of that and more, but not for nothing. And not for me." His lips twisted in a wicked smile as he watched the golden eyes cloud with wariness. "They're yours to give, you know. And you're right: I do want them all."

Even death? The monkey king smirked incredulously. His eyes were piercing, allowing no escape through quaint ideals.

"If it comes to that..." He thought of his nephew with those blank, bored eyes. "There are worse fates out there." And he grinned to show the sage he was not dissuaded. He boldly stepped closer, through the blossoming leaves. He was changing the rules, but a hint of something wistful in his rival's knowing stare told him that perhaps the time had come. "Surely there is something I could offer in return. Something you hunger for? Something you miss?" He raised an eyebrow in challenge and invitation.

For an eternity they stood there, in the heavy stillness of the forest floor. The sage's eyes grew distant watching birds and insects and dappled hints of sunlight. His nostrils flared, taking in the scents of rock and water and leaves. At last it was an orangutan's hoot that garnered his attention. She was calling out the day's end, but in her arms a tiny figure nestled and paid no mind. All unaware, it slept, as the monkey king looked on.

Innocence...

The word whispered through the forest like the sigh of a bamboo flute. The sage's eyes blinked once with their burden of wisdom, then the gleam returned. He smiled and watched the blood on his adversary's waist reflected in his claws. But some things cannot be, even for you. Then he leapt at the bodhisattva with a grin and deadly intent. Claws flashed along the pale flesh of Kanzeon's upper arm, but they missed as he stepped closer at the last possible instant.

His hands reached up, pressing into thick, brown hair while with his legs he ensnared the monkey-king, sending them both crashing into the slick perfume of leaves and jungle flowers. "Well, maybe not, but I'll give you the next best thing," he said, then light glowed between his fingertips and the golden eyes went wide in shock and pain. He felt the muscles writhe beneath him – infinitely stronger, but lacking the leverage to force him away. He tightened the grip of his legs around the sage's chest until he could feel the other's heart beating between his thighs; until the very breath was forced from his prize. The victor felt one defensive punch land, crushingly ineffective and then...

no... NOOO!

Bright gold solidified, constricting, restraining, severing the ties of thought and emotion until memories drifted freely and violence lay confined in the amber prison of the circlet. Eyes glazed with betrayal met the god's, still fighting in desperate entreaty even as the sage's consciousness, his very self, slipped away. Lips parted, forming for the first, the last time a spoken word.

"Mercy!" So faint, and then his eyes closed. The small child sank back, sleeping, in his conqueror's arms. The bodhisattva smiled at his foe, his playmate. He would miss their games and word play, but this new diversion would more than make up for it. He stroked the soft strands surrounding the shining diadem. He kissed the rounded cheek.

Then he walked away and left him for the hunters.

-ende-