Red sits alone, looking out at the sun, rising over the edge of the world. She'd seen many stars that had been called "the sun", each one having beings who claimed their plasmic ball as the true and central piece to the universe. They'd all been wrong, of course. The actual star that resided at (or rather closest to) the center of the universe was one that had no planets, moons, or any other orbital bodies.

Still, it wasn't as if she wasn't guilty of choosing something important to her and naming it as the center. The color of the sky, so full of herself, meshed with so much of her world's center. She was Crimson, painted Azure; and her center was Sky-sea, laid over burning earth and stone. The noise that came from her side might have called for the phrase "speak of the devil," but in Red's case, it was more thoughts of an angel.

She was not able to hear as she once did, with chips and bits of metal, ceramic, and bone that would amplify even the buzz of a needle's chime to become loud as a bomb's detonation. No longer did she carry in her the weapons and tools of the Agency, nor even the same body she'd inhabited before she'd left them behind. Instead, both Rose and Forget-me-Not had been born again, in simple flesh and sinew.

Sometimes, Red looks at the arms she wears, and her legs and toes, her fingers or her face. She knows them all, so perfectly crafted by her love, specifically so Red could inhabit it comfortably. Red had done the same for the second body, knowing exactly what would be required for the princess who would wear it. Yet, sometimes it feels empty. She no longer has what she often would call upon for convenience. She'd given up so very much to be here.

Yet, where was here? There was no name for the place that had been made, when Red and her center had twisted and braided time as they once had, but this time for a new purpose. They'd wound the fibers up and down, in and out, and about one another and themselves until they'd made a cocoon of clock strokes and hourglass sand. They'd made an end to all time, which no one aside from they could enter or leave. It had cost them everything, but it had meant gaining something worth more than everything.

"Do you plan on sitting and thinking all day, Maroon? The sun's coming up like it has for the last thirty-eight years, and the two thousand before them, and the eight million after those."

The voice was so very simple, yet so elegant. It was a voice made of love and pain, one of joy and sadness, and one that made every moment of emptiness worth it. The voice belonged to the person who filled Red with more than she could bear, and yet only ever craved more of. Hunger, content, radiant joy, and solemn peace. She was Blue. Her Princess, her adversary, her best friend, her worst enemy, and her truest love.

"Of course it is, Periwinkle, you made it that way." Red says, looking up and smiling the natural, gentle smile that always came when Blue was near. Perhaps she's encoded her body to react that way? She doesn't care. She likes smiling around Blue.

"I didn't know we had any other plans today, but if we do then I suppose I can set aside sitting for a little bit."

Blue tilts her head and a hint of a grin tugs at her lips.

"Merely some housekeeping today, love. Come, let's see if you're still sharp."

A pale hand offered, and a gently tanned one to take it. Then Red is on her feet, and following her dearest back to the house they use for the delicate living their new bodies required. Of course, they didn't live there alone.

Blue gives a soft whistle, and a pair of small dogs come dashing after the two, bounding in the short grass by the sand that borders the soft ocean. One is Grey, and the other Black. Both miniature schnauzers, though named "Tiny Féasógs" by this Thread's humans. Both are full of energy and lack any of the decorum that most people require. Then again, they are not most people.

Rather than simply cleaning together, the two had a system of switching each weekend. One of them would play with the dogs, and see to their needs, while the other cleaned each nook and cranny to find and then hide the centerpiece to their longest running joke. They couldn't afford to miss a spot, for fear the letter would be more easily found during the next week's cleaning.

So, while Blue begins to play fetch and measure out the food, Red heads inside and gathers her supplies. Had Blue still had her natural tools, or Red her mechanical implants, they probably would have the house clean in mere moments. As it was, they had found a certain number of surprises when they'd become the much more standardized and less perfected humans at this thread's end.

As it turned out, Blue was still a natural with living things and the sciences, growing their flowerbeds and small garden to perfection. Red however, was not a mechanical mastermind, as she had suspected she might be. It seemed that while she was a genius in many regards, this thread's machines didn't accept her knowledge. Much to her surprise, her talents lent themselves to a different form of creation these days. When limited to her paper, pencil, dogs, and Blue; she found her creative streak truly popped, like a small, yet warm fire on fields of frigid ice.

Even with such skills however, Red knew she'd have a very long, very tiring, day of work ahead. The only comfort was knowing five pinpricks of light awaited her at the end of the tunnel: a letter to, a letter from, Black, Grey, and her wife: Blue.

The letter wasn't hidden in rows of teeth, or in secretive dust patterns, as had once been the norm. Instead, Blue had hidden a paper envelope, rolled around the downrod of their living room fan. A little less than the old tricks they'd played on one another, but still fairly hard to find. Red had, in turn, snuck her letter underneath the mattress in the guest room. Blue had a habit of forgetting unused things, while Red knew her own limitations in forgetting to dust.

Taking a seat on the side of her bed, Red watched a tennis ball soar towards the rolling waves, followed by a pair of energetic blurs. The two dogs dashed at the bouncing sphere, rushing past and then finally fighting over the ball proper. The black hair of her love moved into sight, her head turned towards Grey and Black, shouting something indistinct and patting her thighs for them to return.

Red smiled, and popped the seal, deciding to read while she watched her family play.

Dearest Autumn Leaf,

I hope you enjoyed your weekly scavenger hunt. As always, I'm sorry it wasn't as intricate as the old games we used to play. Yet, I think we're happy here, like this. We're, for lack of a better term, normal. We don't have the powers of the Garden, or the strength of the Agency. Instead, we have each other, and the very minimum of our old greatness.

Yet… I must ask you: are you happy here, my love? I've asked you so many times, yet I always feel the hint of lies, in both you and myself. We've never truly lied to each other, half-truths and omission notwithstanding, so please tell me truly: Are you really, truly happy here, with me?

I know you love me, never doubt, and I know you are happy when you're with me. But what I do not know is how happy you are when compared to how happy you could be. Do you wish to be among the mechanical cities and superstructures of the Agency's threads? Eased into the comforts of life by every machine ever conceived, and filled with the excitement of a million threads and wars to fight and win, trick and outsmart? Am I, to you, a love that will hurt you as much as it heals you?

I have to tell you the truth you are owed: the truth of my soul. I am happy here. I miss the Garden, perhaps more than I can say, but as much as you know. But while I do miss my birthplace, and my friends, I have found here in you, something more: my home, and my family. In you, and in the simplicity of life here.

Our garden, our dogs, our house? I could never understand before why these things are important. Now I do. Your books, your silly grin when you have a good dream, and your warm arms keeping me safe from the nightmares that could disrupt my sleep; these things I could not cherish as much with the body the Garden grew. It is in the hunger for the old, that I have the room to fill with the new we have made here

I won't ask you to leave, if you choose to one day go back, but I must know. I will always be here, for you. Please, never forget the truth that unites all threads: I love you.

Yours, always before, always now, and always forevermore,

Poppyseed

Red knows exactly why the paper was damp. Her tears have scarcely fallen so freely in this last lifetime of hers. She swallowed once, and set the letter on her bed. She saw her dearest ones outside, still playing. She ran to them.

Blue scarcely had time to turn before Red was holding her tightly in a hug that used all of her strength. It was returned almost immediately, just as powerfully. Then, Red said Blue's name. Not the color she used to identify herself by, but her actual name. Both of their names were secrets, only a tiny handful of people knew in all of the infinite times and places, but they knew each others'.

"...I'm happy here. I don't think I can ever say how much. But, I do think I can show you."

Blue tried to pull away, to look curiously into her eyes and read what she means to say next, but the grip of Red will not yield.

"I'm not going to weave in time anymore, Blue. This time… This is the last lifetime I'm going to have. This last century, of you and me, living and growing old together, I want it to be complete. I'm going to die this time, so that I die with you."

Then Red pulls back.

"Am I… too selfish for you to love now?"

Blue cannot answer with anything but a kiss, a smile, and another hug. For now, she'd enjoy her last adventure with Red, and look forward to the greatest adventure of all, when they finished up. She'd be sure to keep her close this time, and if fate transpired to keep them distant... well, they always had ways of saying I Love You.

The thread will snap, as it exits the cocoon, and there will be no Red and Blue on the other side. The Agency and the Garden will find only dust, and a purple-stained infinity, guarded by no one, save for the two people who have finally won, finally escaped, the time war.

Huge thanks to the Writers of the Novel: This is how you lose the Time War: Max Gladstone & Amal El-Mohar. This is based on their work, and does not belong to me in any way. This was my ending for Red and Blue, because I'm a sucker for happy endings.

Love you all!