Seriously, guys. This fic is highly likely to be soul-crushing. Y'all's enthusiasm is giving me guilt complexes. :P
dragonsatdawn: Oof. You're gonna be mad with me by the end of this fic, I just know it. X'P But thank you for the interest!
And yes, the postman is quite likely an elder being of the universe, I think. :P
ForeverFictional: Thanks!
JustRandom: Hi! Hahaaaaaa, I hadn't been expecting anyone to figure out the song reference for ages! Nice catch. I knew how I wanted Lilly's story to go, and the song provided a perfect complement to it, so that worked out well!
Ninjago trying a knights theme was interesting, I'm just rolling with it! It's gonna be a long-time dream of Lilly's.
The voice is just an amorphous nasty spirit-creature that lives in the woods. It's called the Cursed Forest, nothing gets through it except the postman.
Heh, well, now you don't have to!
Also, thanks for the final reviews on "Dork Squad"! I'm certainly not uncomfortable with mobile, no worries. I actually felt a little meh about that final sentence, I'm glad it went over well, at least. ^_^''
Requests, pretty much the same situation! I sometimes take them if they strike my fancy. My time right now is extremely limited, I'm going to have to shut down all FFN activity sometime in June, but if it's a short and quick idea, I might give it a go. Whatcha have in mind?
As to the "cheesy" question, I don't know if there's any single "right way" to do that. Cheesiness is in the eye of the beholder. If people roll their eyes at fluffy or emotional scenes, I think that says more about their bitterness or fear of vulnerability than it does about the quality of the story. Personally I love reading the most cloyingly sweet stuff I can get my hands on, and I only wish I had the guts to write it. Or . . . publish it, anyway. :P
But! I do have some sense of what the average person tends to cringe at, and I try to account for that when writing. I think the biggest tip I can give is, don't go all-out. Never let a character be completely vulnerable; if they are, don't let them get away with it unwounded. If the characters are having a very emotional situation, make your narration a little bit jokey or sarcastic, to keep it detached. If something is very sensitive or sweet, don't state it directly, hint at it obliquely. Even the characters themselves should hesitate, dance around the point, leave some things unsaid. They can throw in their own sarcastic comments trying to play down their own emotions. Basically, write everything with the idea that every character has their own pride, shame, fear of getting hurt; they're living in a world that is often cruel. They don't ever feel safe being completely open with their emotions, they're always guarding their weak spots. That does a lot towards making an emotional scene more "relatable" to people in the real world, and thus less likely to be called cheesy.
Proportionality is also important! Make sure that the context of a fluffy scene is convincing, don't just skip all the hurt and go straight to the comfort. People are more willing to tolerate strongly emotional moments if they're the payoff to a long stretch of emotional torment.
That's about all I can say to that, I think. That's how I do it, but I'm sure it's not the only way, and it certainly doesn't guarantee results. I'm sure there are people who do find my fluffy scenes cringe-worthy. Trust me, if your soul is scorched enough, you can find any positive human interaction cringe-worthy. :P
Murkily, Lilly realized she wasn't really awake. In a cold, smoky dream she found herself drifting over a smooth white featureless surface. She had never seen a body of water before, much less a frozen one, but somehow she knew she was in danger. The ice popped and chirped beneath her feet.
Holding her breath, she looked around for some path to safety. Instead she found herself staring into a pair of grim turquoise eyes.
"Lilly."
The ice snapped beneath her. Darkness closed over her head, bubbles rushed from her lungs, icy water filled her mouth—hold up. This was the worst-tasting water she'd ever—
At around this time she started to wake up, coughing. Before her vision cleared she could already feel motion next to her, and hot liquid splashing down her chin. She heard a concerned, gentle voice by her ear.
"Oh, come now, little one, it's not that bad."
"I'm fully prepared to believe it is that bad," said a second voice. Less gentle than the first, but still warm with something Lilly didn't have a name for just now.
"Hush, you," sighed the first voice. Coughing again, Lilly finally managed to peel her eyes open. She started, feeling panic setting in. Where was she?! Had the creature taken her somewhere?!
But this didn't make her feel the way the creature had. Nothing like it. She was in a dim, low room, lying on what felt like a bed of straw. A blanket was tucked over her. Crouching next to her was a man with soft honey-colored eyes and blond hair, still holding a half-empty cup of tea. Some distance behind him was another man, this one a brunette with a wry smile, and even further back was an anxious-looking couple sitting behind a rough wooden table. The scene was unfamiliar, but not instantly frightening. The only part that unsettled her a little was that everyone was looking at her.
"Where am I?" she rasped, rubbing one eye. "Who are you?"
"You're in a village called Jamanukai. My name is Wu, and this is my brother, Garmadon. Over there is Tang, and his wife Mila. They're the village basketmakers, and if they hadn't been out cutting reeds the other day you wouldn't be here right now." Wu smiled encouragingly as Lilly tried to slowly process through all this information. "What's your name, little one? How are you feeling?"
"Lilly." Lilly rubbed at her eyes again. "I'm . . . tired."
"No surprise," said the other man—what had his name been again? "You were very sick for a while. What happened to you, that you ended up in the woods out there? Where are you from?"
Lilly stared around at the room full of grown-ups, feeling another sudden wash of panic. Her mind had finally cleared enough to remember that she was right now in enemy territory. These were the hostile strangers who wanted to kill her father, and maybe her as well. It must be as her father said—after all, he had been right about the creatures in the woods.
Then she remembered the creature again, the whispering voice engulfing her, the claws scratching at her mind, and she began to shake violently. Against her will tears pooled in her eyes, her breath hitching. This was way too much. She had escaped one peril (had she escaped?), and here she was right in the middle of another. She would never see her father again. She should have listened. She should never have left.
"Oh goodness," said Wu, looking stricken. "No need for tears, little one, it's all right. You don't have to tell us anything if you don't feel ready to talk about it." He cast a scathing glance back at his brother.
How was I supposed to know? Garmadon mouthed indignantly, but sighed and stepped over to pat Lilly's shoulder.
"Never mind, Lilly. Wu's right, you don't have to answer. Right now you should focus on resting and getting well. Whatever happened to you out there, you're safe now." He smiled sadly at the mistrustful look Lilly gave him through her tears. "Yes, safe. I promise. We're friends. We won't hurt you. Do you want to just get some more sleep for now?"
Lilly nodded weakly. She wasn't really that sleepy, but she was exhausted and overwhelmed and welcomed the opportunity to shut everything out for a while more.
Wu had her finish the tea first, then tucked the blanket back around her as she sank down, shutting her eyes. She gave a deep sigh and nestled into the straw, feigning sleep. The panic had ebbed away again, either from exhaustion or maybe from feeling like she really might be safe here, at least for now. These people didn't seem to know who her father was. They had promised she was safe, and they seemed so kind. It was kind of like in her book, she reflected, when Sir Creswel had been gored by an evil sword and awoke being tended to by nymphs. Maybe it was legit.
She could hear the grown-ups talking softly, probably thinking she was already asleep.
"Don't look at me like that," grumbled the brunette one whose name escaped her. "For Pete's sake. How was I supposed to know that would set her off?"
"She was found lying in the Cursed Forest burning up with fever," retorted Wu under his breath. "You didn't think she might have been through something frightening? You know what kind of things can attack children in evil forests." There was a pause. " . . . Sorry."
The brunette grunted. A third voice chimed in, a woman's. It must be Mila, the basketmaker.
"Can you tell what's wrong with her? Is there anything we can do?"
"I think we just have to wait," said Wu. "Her fever is going down, she doesn't seem to have any physical injuries, and the tea should cover most other things. She should be fine. Thank you both for taking her in; would you be willing to let her stay with you until she's well?"
"Of course," said Tang.
"Actually," said Mila, "do you think . . . " She twisted her hands awkwardly. "Do you think, if . . . Of course I know we have to try find her parents, but—just supposing we don't. If she's an orphan. Do you think we—could we take her in?"
"That is quite the commitment," said Wu.
"We know," said Mila. "But she reminds me so much of . . . "
"Oh," said Wu gently. There was a bit of silence. "I understand. Of course."
"That's very generous of you," said Garmadon, his voice also more subdued than usual.
Despite still pretending to be asleep, Lilly listened intently. Did the basketmaker couple want to keep her? She was . . . kind of okay with that, actually. She couldn't tell these people about her father or ask for help getting home; they might turn vicious quickly. It was good to know she'd have a place to stay until she figured out how to make her own way home.
And . . . just in general, the thought of staying out here for a little while seemed . . . nice. She wanted to spend some more time with these people, who were so caring and friendly. She had rushed out to avenge her father, thinking he was the only person who mattered in the world, but now that she saw life outside, she sensed a warmth between these people that she'd been craving all her life. She didn't want to rush away just yet.
As the adults' conversation meandered to other topics, Lilly started to drift off despite herself, and the words grew fuzzy and faraway. She heard Wu say something, then Garmadon said something sarcastic back and Wu sounded indignant. The basketmaker couple started laughing though, and after a moment the brothers joined in. Lilly smiled at the sound and let sleep pull her under, into a warm safe darkness.
. . .
"Lilly."
She didn't tell anyone about her father, and she didn't tell anyone about the creature that seemed to have lodged itself permanently in her mind. It was hard to tell which of those secrets felt darker. She felt like she had to watch every word she said, so she wouldn't thoughtlessly mention her father. She felt like she had to watch every thought, to make sure the voice in her head was her own and not the dark being's.
Still, despite the seriousness of the problems placed on her eight-year-old shoulders, she couldn't feel too discouraged. The basketmaker couple was very kind to her; under their attention she was physically recovered within a few days. Wu and Garmadon came back to check on her later that week.
"Well!" said Garmadon, as she came bounding out of the hut to meet them. "Isn't this a change!"
"Hello!" sang Lilly, giving a quick bow of greeting as her new foster parents had taught her. "I'm feeling much better! How are you?"
"Glad you're all right, mostly," said Wu, smiling.
"Mr. Tang and Ms. Mila say they'll teach me basket-making!" Lilly went on, beaming. "I can't wait."
"Oh, so you're staying," said Wu. His eyes softened. "Don't you have any family, Lilly? Or a home anywhere?"
"Mmm, no. I'm an orphan," said Lilly, as she'd rehearsed to herself. "I don't remember my family, I lived by myself in a tree and ate berries."
She didn't miss the look that passed between Wu and Garmadon. Then they leveled her with a look that made her quail. She grinned nervously, praying they wouldn't start asking questions. They weren't buying it, were they? Oh no—
The brothers exchanged glances again.
"Well," said Wu at last. "I certainly hope your nutrition is better now that you're here."
Lilly tried not to breathe a sigh of relief.
As soon as she was considered well enough to run about on her own, Lilly found a secluded spot in a grove of trees and set to work dueling with the creature in her mind. She quickly realized that it was hard to duel with a creature who wasn't physically there. Although its shapeless voice would slash through her thoughts every couple of hours, when she sat down and tried to hear it, nothing happened.
Come out, she thought sternly. Come out and face me.
Nothing. She dredged up a few memories of previous threats the creature had made, but memories of its voice were distinctly different from its voice in real time.
Come out and fight! she thought again, clenching her fists. Are you scared of me?
Abruptly a gravelly chuckle rattled against her skull.
"I live inside your head, Lilly. I know who's frightened here."
Get out of my head, thought Lilly fiercely. Get out! I'm never going to listen to you anyway, so go pick on somebody else.
The creature laughed again, and Lilly suddenly had a vivid vision of being out reed-cutting with Tang and Mila, suddenly turning on them with the reed knife. Her breath hitched as she saw the gushes of blood, heard the screams—
"No!" she barked aloud, covering her ears as if that would help. "I'm not going to hurt anybody!"
"Kill them, Lilly."
"No!"
Lilly dug her hands into her hair till it hurt, and tried everything she could think of to drive the creature out. She tried to give it a face, make it look like a monster from her book of knights. She tried to visualize herself hurling the creature from her brain, chopping its head off, killing it in the most horrible ways she could imagine. This only seemed to give the creature better fodder to turn the thoughts around, twist them so she was doing those things to Tang, Mila, the brothers, the villagers.
Stop it, Lilly mentally screamed. I won't! I won't! Get out!
She realized after some time that she was crying, hot tears of helpless anger. The creature slithered itself a little tighter around her mind and chuckled.
"Get up, Lilly. Kill."
"No." Lilly drew up her knees and sank her forehead against them, gritting her teeth. You can't make me.
"Get up, Lilly. Get up."
No.
She could feel her muscles twitching and tensing erratically. Her body was trying to obey the creature's commands. Curling tighter into herself, she willed herself to resist. Maybe she couldn't throw the creature out, but the creature wasn't about to throw her out either.
To her grim satisfaction, she could sense its frustration. It growled and thrashed, demanding more and more hysterically that she get up and commit violence.
No. Lilly blew out a hissing, triumphant breath through her teeth. Maybe I can't make you shut up. But you can't make me do anything.
The creature gave a long hiss of its own, this one furious. She sensed the breeze of its passing as it suddenly whisked away, coiling itself into some dark recess of her mind. Her brain went silent. She went limp with relief, choking down a sob.
Exhausted, she slumped over and drifted in and out of consciousness for a while. A few minutes later Mila found her, and was very worried about her sleeping hidden in some trees with tears still drying on her face. Lilly quietly declined to explain why. She was tired, but to her relief she could look at Mila without feeling a sudden urge to harm her.
At least you know who's boss, she thought, as she followed Mila back to the house. She thought she heard the creature growl.
Over the next few weeks she became something of a village favorite. Mila and Tang did teach her basket-making, and she got pretty good at it. She worked hard, helping to cut reeds, dry them, weave them into pretty shapes.
She got to know the other village children, although she avoided them a little because they asked too many questions about where she came from. She also poked a curious head into every other shop and workroom in the village, trying a little of every trade. She took a stab at farming, spinning, weaving, smithing, leatherwork. She also found a second home (third home?) at the potter's hut. She was so good at molding the clay to her will, the potter said she would be straight-up devastated if Lilly didn't take an apprenticeship with her eventually.
Her very favorite thing, though, was when Wu and Garmadon came to visit. It wasn't that often—they had an entire continent to protect—but they did sometimes charge through Jamanukai to fend off some thieves, train the villagers in a bit of martial arts, or even just check up on Lilly, which always made her feel special. Sometimes only one of them would visit, but she always liked it best when they came together, because they argued and teased each other so much and it was funny.
They also gave her extra training in martial arts. They held lessons at the monastery for local children who showed extra promise or were extra-eager, and Lilly definitely qualified for both. She remembered her ambitions to be a knight, and she loved every minute of warrior training. If Wu and Garmadon were suspicious at how many skills she already had from her father's training, they didn't say anything. They didn't ask too many questions in general, and Lilly was grateful.
On the other hand, they were always happy to answer hers. Lilly was grateful for that too, because there were things she couldn't ask anyone else.
The tiny shoes, for example. One time, Mila had sent Lilly to fetch some beads to work into a basket, and Lilly had accidentally looked in the wrong box. She had found a pair of tiny shoes hidden there, and for some reason her insides had gone cold. She'd hurriedly closed the box again and hadn't said anything about it to Mila.
Somehow she knew not to ask anyone in the village. She felt safe asking Wu, though.
"Mr. Tang and Ms. Mila," she said carefully, after training one day. "They said . . . they said I reminded them of someone. And once, by accident, I saw some little tiny shoes. Like shoes for a baby. Did they . . . ?"
Wu gave her a sad smile.
"Yes, Lilly. They did have a baby son, whom they lost just a few years ago."
"Oh . . . " said Lilly quietly, hanging her head.
"Are you all right?" asked Wu.
"Yes," whispered Lilly, swiping at her eye hastily. "It's just—they're very kind."
"They are," said Wu, his smile a little warmer now. "And I'm sure you bring them much joy as well."
Lilly thought about that a lot, after that. How generous these people were, to open their home to a random lost child after suffering so much pain from their own. This didn't seem like the cruel world her father had warned her about. In fact, the world seemed beautiful. Everything seemed new and exciting. There was so much to see and do, compared to training, reading, and sleeping within four sandstone walls. There were so many ways to feel and connect, compared to her father's emotionless presence and the scant human interactions she'd scavenged from books.
People were so vibrant, she realized. Her father had been something of a barrens. He hadn't been cruel, but he had been . . . distant. He rarely smiled. He never joked. He was never happy, but then he was never sad either. He never showed her any affection, or even really interacted with her except to train or give reprimands. Even his anger was a grim, steady pressure rather than a hot flare.
But out here? People felt so much. They cared so openly. The basketmakers gave her hugs and called her "sweetheart." People smiled readily at each other, joked while working, showed sadness and comforted each other. Even Wu and Garmadon—in a way they reminded her most of her father, because they were also skilled warriors, and could be very serious and imposing, and sometimes she saw the same tired, worried look on their faces. But the difference with them was, it didn't last. They smiled too, and called her "little one," and grew irritated with each others' ragging. They were humans. Everyone out here in the world seemed so much more human than her father.
So the days passed pleasantly. Lilly kept busy and found a lot of joy in everything. The nights, though . . . the nights were still hard. That was when she missed home, sometimes. That was when the creature spoke the loudest.
Then the cracks in the picture started to appear. The first came on a sunny afternoon, after one of the training sessions at the monastery. The training was technically over, most of the students had been dismissed and scurried off to enjoy the spring day, but a few still lingered behind to squeeze in a little more practice or get help where they were struggling. Lilly always stayed as long as she was allowed, so she was still there too.
Today had been something of a bad day training-wise, maybe because the kids were all distracted by the nice weather. The indoor dojo was also getting stuffy, and one of the other students was cranky over something he wasn't picking up fast enough. Wu and Garmadon were still patient, but Lilly could read a little bit of tiredness in their voices by now.
"All right, Brock, Mei, let's not do permanent damage here," sighed Wu, separating two youngsters sparring a little too vigorously. "Come on you two, you're done. Off you go. Lilly, no, watch your stance—" He broke off, frustrated, as Brock took another swipe at his sparring partner. "You two! Ugh. Garmadon, do you have a moment to help Lilly out with her . . . Garmadon?"
Hearing the sudden tension in Wu's voice, Lilly also looked to the other son of the First Spinjitzu Master. He was standing oddly askew, his shoulders hunched, his head down. One hand drifted up to his face, as if he suddenly had a splitting headache.
"Garmadon." Wu's voice was like a whipcrack now. Garmadon shifted as if to answer, but no sound came out. The staff he had been training with dropped from his trembling hand.
"Master Garmadon?" whispered Lilly, frightened.
"Children." Wu's voice was sharper than she'd ever heard it. "Go home at once."
The other pupils scattered immediately, their faces grim. Lilly made to follow, but a few steps out into the hall she hesitated. What was wrong with Garmadon? Was he sick? Why was Wu so frightened? Maybe she could help, or . . . or at least see what was happening.
She turned around and crept a few hesitant steps back towards the dojo. Just as her hand reached to push aside the door, there was a commotion on the other side; an enraged roar, thumping, glass smashing. She froze.
Wu suddenly threw open the door and nearly fell over her.
"Lilly!" For a second he stared at her in shock; then he snatched her up and bodily dragged her away down the hall. "Get away from here!"
Lilly didn't struggle. She heard more crashing and thumping going on behind them. She looked over her shoulder, and she caught a glimpse of Garmadon, disheveled, his hair wild, his eyes—red. Searing, glowing red. Her heart leaped into her throat.
She wasn't sure she breathed until Wu had dumped her onto the steps outside the monastery gates.
"Are you all right?" panted Wu. She nodded, on the verge of tears.
"What was that? What's happening to Master Garmadon?"
"He'll be all right, Lilly." Wu was already glancing over his shoulder, his expression tight, but then he turned back and crouched down to her eye level. "I promise it will be all right. I have to go back and help him now. Please go home and be safe, okay? I promise I'll explain later."
Then he was gone, the gates shutting behind him. Lilly stared up at them for a moment. Then she hung her head and turned to walk down the long, long flight of mountain stairs.
The next morning she was there knocking at the gates. Wu answered, and looked startled to see her.
"Is Master Garmadon all right?" said Lilly. She noted with a pang of fear the fresh slash across Wu's cheek.
"Yes." Wu sighed, looking exhausted. "He's recovering, Lilly. Thank you for coming all the way up here to ask."
"What happened to him?" asked Lilly. Wu looked down at her for a moment.
"I did promise to explain, didn't I?" he said tiredly, and stepped out through the gates. Sighing again, he sat down on the top step and patted a spot next to him, inviting Lilly to sit as well. After she did, though, Wu seemed hesitant about how to start.
"My brother has a . . . condition, Lilly," he said. "Long ago, when he was . . . just about your age, actually, he was bitten by an evil serpent, the Great Devourer. Ever since then, its venom has flowed through him. He is still a good man, Lilly. You have no need to fear him, most of the time."
Lilly's eyes drifted to the wound on Wu's face. He noticed and looked away, pained.
"But sometimes, the venom takes over him," he continued. "It poisons his mind and makes him angry and violent. He loses control of himself. At times like that, you must promise me that you will get away to safety and let me handle him. It is dangerous to stay. Can you promise?"
"Yes Master Wu," whispered Lilly.
They sat in heavy silence for a moment. Lilly's heart ached, thinking about her kind, steady teacher with his smart tongue and mischievous sense of humor, transforming into a raging monster who smashed things and slashed ragged scars into his own brother's face. And it hurt to think about Wu as well; he so clearly loved his brother, and he had to face him like that.
"You said he's better now," she said, abruptly. "Can I see him?"
Wu grimaced, clearly unsure how to word this.
"He's . . . recovering," he said carefully. "He usually doesn't like to see people for a while. He doesn't feel well, you understand?"
"I wouldn't bother him." Lilly was already on her feet. "If he wants me to leave I'll go right away."
"Lilly, I don't think—" Wu looked around and started when he realized Lilly was already gone. "Wait! Come back!"
Lilly was already scurrying across the courtyard. She had never seen most of the monastery, certainly not Wu and Garmadon's sleeping quarters, but she had a rough idea of which way they were. Before Wu could catch up to her she had already bolted down the hallway and found Garmadon. She skidded into the room and then came up short, her heart panging again. Garmadon was slouched at a small table with his head in his arms. She had never imagined a grown-up could look so defeated, so sad.
"Master Garmadon?" Lilly finally managed, her voice small. His head shot up.
"Lilly?"
He cast a betrayed look to his brother, who had appeared in the doorway behind Lilly. Wu shrugged helplessly.
"Lilly, little one." Garmadon groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "You shouldn't be here."
"I just wanted to see if you were feeling better," said Lilly, still quiet but determined.
"That's kind of you," said Garmadon flatly. He looked like he was struggling to find his next words. "I'm . . . sorry you had to see that. Whatever you saw."
"It's all right," said Lilly.
Garmadon sighed, propping his full weight on his elbows. Lilly crept closer, trying to see his face. His eyes were dull with shame. Lilly swallowed. All she wanted right now was to make him feel better.
"It's really all right, Master Garmadon," she said quietly, reaching up to place a hand on his arm. "I'm not afraid of you. I know what it's like."
Garmadon gave her a kind but somewhat skeptical look, the typical grown-up "poor little kid, they think they understand things" expression. Lilly swallowed, but forged ahead.
"I do. I have a scary voice in my head sometimes too. I know what it's like when they talk."
"Wait." Garmadon sat up straighter, staring. "You have what?"
A/N: Welcome to the part where Lilly's childhood drags on way longer than I'd intended, because I keep getting sidetracked with Spinjitzu Brothers drama!
Just, these dorks. These poor tormented dorks. I started writing this story just after finishing "Father Always Liked You Best," and it turned out I hadn't had my fix of Wu and Garmadon yet. I'm not sure a fix exists. Where is the system update that patches the Spinjitzu Brothers, dangit. :P