To all my reviewers: I love you guys, and I'm so ecstatic that you like my
story! You all are my heroes for taking your time to tell me how you
liked it and what you liked, thank you so much times one million times
infinity! And frappucinos for you all! And if you don't like coffee have
something you do like!
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own it. If I did I'd be rich, famous, own a huge house on 100 acres in the forests near Lake Tahoe, have a Belgian Warmblood breeding and training farm, and be a Grand Prix rider.
A/N: Chapter three! Yay!
Chapter 3 - New Life
Nameless woke up crying in the middle of the night. Tears streaked her young face and plastered stray hairs to her cheeks. She knew fully why she was all undone.
Her parents had been imperfect in almost every way. They treated her like dirt, they didn't feed her much, and never in their lives had they appreciated one thing she did. Most of the time she snorted and thought, 'tough shit, you're stuck with me' but the attitude that she was all a big misunderstanding, a mistake, a technical error, didn't suit her like she hoped it would. And after all, they were her parents, and you only get one of each in your lifetime. Sure, people may often warm to others, but never are they instinctively 'mom' or 'dad' to you, just like you may change your looks but the look will never truly be all-natural you.
It hurt when she'd heard silence in the cold, knowing that her mother, father, and newborn sister, no matter how jealous of her she was, all were dead. It was like a part of her heart she hated to admit existed was torn apart. The part that still hoped that one day they'd all apologize and take her for their daughter. Maybe.maybe they would even give her a name.
Sobbing into her pillow to muffle the sound, she thought about the fact. She'd see everyone with their own identity, and they were a somebody to someone, because they had a name. It was painful every time the phrase 'nameless' rolled off of someone's tongue as if it were her persona. Was she ever going to be more than a nameless animal to anyone, more than an untitled book filled with jumbles of frustrated, angry thoughts and hatred, the only thing that survived her hard life.
Sighing and stowing her sobbing away for another time, she concentrated on controlling her breathing, thinking the rhythm as her chest rose and fell like a bellows. Something caught her eye in the corner of her bedroom, and she recognized Celeste's sleeping figure in the armchair. Sniffing, but throwing her covers back and pulling slippers onto her long, thin feet she tiptoed downstairs to ask the cook Breck for some water.
At the base of the stairs, the manservant Quinn noticed her and with a tip of his hat off of his white bone head he walked up to her and took her hand.
"What can I do for you, lass?" He asked kindly, seeing her slightly red eyes and hearing her sniffs, though she tried to hide them.
"I was coming down to ask Breck for water." She said wearily. "I couldn't sleep." She considered adding, "I had a nightmare" but bit back her words. She didn't want to seem ungrateful of the Black Lord's benevolence or terrified of her temporary home. Though she did almost jump three feet into the air when the front door to the castle opened and the Black God thundered in, seeming very cross at some matter or another.
"Quinn, get me some wine," He snapped, his black cloak and black robes swirling around him, the air crackling with energy from the god's power, "and meet me in my chambers in ten minutes." Quinn looked thoroughly shaken, which was nothing compared to the terrified Nameless. She was sidling behind Quinn's legs, peeking out from behind him every so often to see if closing her eyes and opening them again would prove this was a dream, that the Black Lord wasn't as kind as she had thought earlier.
He snarled and began to pace around the base of the stairs, until he spotted her. Stopping dead in his tracks, they eyed each other. Carefully, he took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh, then turned to her, shoulders slumped instead of tense and angry. He knelt in front of her and held out a hand, or a gauntlet rather. She backed away a little, behind Quinn's coat hem. For a moment, she felt sorry for the god, as he looked utterly defeated. His hand limped and fell to his side, and he stood up, shoulders rounded and looking completely forlorn.
Until he felt a tug on his sword scabbard.
Nameless' gray eyes looked up at him trustingly, and he took her hand and they walked up to his private study, a large room filled with volume upon volume, reaching to the ceiling. He slumped in a large armchair, and she climbed into his lap and made herself comfortable there, ignoring the other chair that was present in the room.
For a moment they sat in silence, just watching the fire, until the Black Lord broke the silence.
"Why are you up so late?" He inquired.
"I couldn't sleep." She said half-truthfully. He nodded understandingly, and she knew that he could tell the hidden meaning under her simple reply. After a moment, she spoke again.
"What happened to make you so angry?"
He sighed, seeming tired and old for the first time since she'd seen him.
"Typical things, Tortall's wars with other countries demand a lot of passports to death." He explained, "Tusaine, a poor country for example, has been ruined by Tortall many times over. They lose a lot of men every time they decide that Tortall's wealth and power isn't fair." He laughed dryly, "Mithros, the god of war and justice, is having a heyday."
"That's not it though. What else?" She asked.
"The other gods think it isn't right for you to be here." He said almost angrily, "They get to pick their favorites of course, the Great Mother gets her fair share of women to pamper, Mithros gets his natural warriors, and all the others get their people but they think it wrong for me to have even one person I spared." He curled his hand into a fist so that when he let go, relaxing, the leather gauntlet was creased.
"What are they going to do?" Nameless asked carefully, uncertainty growing in her mind. This place, strange, new, something she'd never experienced, was the only thing remotely close to a home she'd had ever in her life. She knew she'd be stupid to give it up. For a strange reason, she felt like she belonged here. The zombies, the wraiths, the skeletons, the strange ghostly presences, they would be forever stamped in her mind, and when she saw something, she'd immediately remember this. Even if they took her physically, always her mind would be here, holding hands with her rotting nursemaid, smiling at lipless servants, thanking ghosts for helping her into her chair.
"If they get their way, they'll find a family for you in Tortall."
"But I don't want to leave, I like it here! Already I feel more at home with the menservants and the maids and Celeste.and even the old bat Rayearth than any other place I could go!" She stiffened in his lap and slid to the floor in a huff, arms crossed over her chest. The Black God didn't deny that he was glad she liked staying with him in his castle, and he didn't want her to be taken from him. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"I'll tell them other gods and goddesses myself if I have to! I'm not leaving!" Her face softened and she sat by his chair. "Since I'm going to stay, can I have a name, please?"
"Your parents didn't give you a name?"
"No, why would they?" She asked plainly, her eyes darkening in anger as she remembered the painful neglect.
"We'll give you a name then, because no daughter, adopted or not, of a god should be without a persona." He stated firmly, then settled into thought as they both contemplated names, each one seeming less suited than the last.
"I have a name." Said a voice. Nameless and the Black God turned around to see the Great Mother Goddess herself standing beside the hearth, her black hair loose about her shoulders, falling over the front of her green dress.
"It was my belief that you wanted me to send the girl away, Great Mother." The Black Lord said in irritation.
"After witnessing your bond I know neither of you would benefit from parting. The girl will stay with you." Though both god and girl were ecstatic, they didn't show it and respectfully inclined their heads.
"Now, your name suggestion?" The Black Lord said, laying a hand protectively on his charge's shoulder. The Great Mother Goddess smiled, her red lips curved.
"I believe she should be called Devon of Nocturne," She said strongly, "Devon meaning god's favor and Nocturne for her place of dwelling, the world of night." There was silence as both entities looked at the girl, who now seemed to be testing the name on her tongue.
"Devon.Devon of Nocturne." She looked up at the gods encouraging forms. "I like it." The great Mother Goddess smiled and knelt in front of her, tilting her chin up so her vivid green eyes locked with Devon's gray ones.
"You are a brave girl, Devon. Only a day ago you were at the point of death locked in an attic in the bitter cold. But you are still very young. Starting in a week's time you will begin taking lessons on being a proper lady with me, and at age ten you will begin training with the god of war as a page, then after you have learnt it all a squire, and finally a knight. You will apply yourself to your studies in all areas, understood?" Devon nodded solemnly. The Goddess smiled lightly, "Are you ready to be taught?"
"Are you ready to teach me?" She countered, and nearly slapped her hand to her mouth in shame. Her first day in the realm of the gods and she'd already back talked to the leader of them all! Suddenly a tinkle of laughter reverberated around the room. The goddess smiled warmly.
"It is quite alright, Devon," she assured her kindly, "but watch your tongue around other, less forgiving people of high standing." Devon nodded, smiling a little. With that, the Goddess was gone.
Devon looked around the library as if seeing for the first time. Books upon layers of books were piled as high as the ceiling. Two crotchety old gnomes with long gray beards that dragged on the ground beside them wandered about, absentmindedly dusting the volumes with care and getting into some argument as to where one of the precious tomes went.
"Pick one to read if you want." The Black Lord said, standing behind her now as she looked at the library. Hanging her head in shame, she shook her head.
"But.but I can't." She said sadly, glancing longingly at the books like they were something she could never have.
"Can't read?" He finished softly, kneeling next to her, though even on his knees he was a good foot and a half taller than her.
"Yessir." She nodded gloomily.
"Well then, there's no better time to learn!" He said determinedly, taking her hand. "You know the alphabet already I trust?" She nodded vigorously.
"My grandfather taught it to me when I was very young." She said proudly.
"Good, because letters are the foundation of all things literary, just like rain is the foundation of all things agricultural." Devon sat down in front of the fire intently as the god picked a book off the shelves and sat beside her.
"Now, try." He said, holding the book out to her, which was turned to the first page. Her gray eyes raked the sentences, her lips moving silently to herself, until, in a shaky voice, she began,
"In a.a hole in the gr-ground there l-lived a.a hobbit." She smiled broadly and accepted a cup of water the gnome brought her as he and his companion, who she later learned were Bobbin and Nobbin, sat beside her, following along with their eyes locked to the words.
"Not a nas.a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit hole, and that means comfort."
They continued into early morning, reading together beside the fireplace.
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own it. If I did I'd be rich, famous, own a huge house on 100 acres in the forests near Lake Tahoe, have a Belgian Warmblood breeding and training farm, and be a Grand Prix rider.
A/N: Chapter three! Yay!
Chapter 3 - New Life
Nameless woke up crying in the middle of the night. Tears streaked her young face and plastered stray hairs to her cheeks. She knew fully why she was all undone.
Her parents had been imperfect in almost every way. They treated her like dirt, they didn't feed her much, and never in their lives had they appreciated one thing she did. Most of the time she snorted and thought, 'tough shit, you're stuck with me' but the attitude that she was all a big misunderstanding, a mistake, a technical error, didn't suit her like she hoped it would. And after all, they were her parents, and you only get one of each in your lifetime. Sure, people may often warm to others, but never are they instinctively 'mom' or 'dad' to you, just like you may change your looks but the look will never truly be all-natural you.
It hurt when she'd heard silence in the cold, knowing that her mother, father, and newborn sister, no matter how jealous of her she was, all were dead. It was like a part of her heart she hated to admit existed was torn apart. The part that still hoped that one day they'd all apologize and take her for their daughter. Maybe.maybe they would even give her a name.
Sobbing into her pillow to muffle the sound, she thought about the fact. She'd see everyone with their own identity, and they were a somebody to someone, because they had a name. It was painful every time the phrase 'nameless' rolled off of someone's tongue as if it were her persona. Was she ever going to be more than a nameless animal to anyone, more than an untitled book filled with jumbles of frustrated, angry thoughts and hatred, the only thing that survived her hard life.
Sighing and stowing her sobbing away for another time, she concentrated on controlling her breathing, thinking the rhythm as her chest rose and fell like a bellows. Something caught her eye in the corner of her bedroom, and she recognized Celeste's sleeping figure in the armchair. Sniffing, but throwing her covers back and pulling slippers onto her long, thin feet she tiptoed downstairs to ask the cook Breck for some water.
At the base of the stairs, the manservant Quinn noticed her and with a tip of his hat off of his white bone head he walked up to her and took her hand.
"What can I do for you, lass?" He asked kindly, seeing her slightly red eyes and hearing her sniffs, though she tried to hide them.
"I was coming down to ask Breck for water." She said wearily. "I couldn't sleep." She considered adding, "I had a nightmare" but bit back her words. She didn't want to seem ungrateful of the Black Lord's benevolence or terrified of her temporary home. Though she did almost jump three feet into the air when the front door to the castle opened and the Black God thundered in, seeming very cross at some matter or another.
"Quinn, get me some wine," He snapped, his black cloak and black robes swirling around him, the air crackling with energy from the god's power, "and meet me in my chambers in ten minutes." Quinn looked thoroughly shaken, which was nothing compared to the terrified Nameless. She was sidling behind Quinn's legs, peeking out from behind him every so often to see if closing her eyes and opening them again would prove this was a dream, that the Black Lord wasn't as kind as she had thought earlier.
He snarled and began to pace around the base of the stairs, until he spotted her. Stopping dead in his tracks, they eyed each other. Carefully, he took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh, then turned to her, shoulders slumped instead of tense and angry. He knelt in front of her and held out a hand, or a gauntlet rather. She backed away a little, behind Quinn's coat hem. For a moment, she felt sorry for the god, as he looked utterly defeated. His hand limped and fell to his side, and he stood up, shoulders rounded and looking completely forlorn.
Until he felt a tug on his sword scabbard.
Nameless' gray eyes looked up at him trustingly, and he took her hand and they walked up to his private study, a large room filled with volume upon volume, reaching to the ceiling. He slumped in a large armchair, and she climbed into his lap and made herself comfortable there, ignoring the other chair that was present in the room.
For a moment they sat in silence, just watching the fire, until the Black Lord broke the silence.
"Why are you up so late?" He inquired.
"I couldn't sleep." She said half-truthfully. He nodded understandingly, and she knew that he could tell the hidden meaning under her simple reply. After a moment, she spoke again.
"What happened to make you so angry?"
He sighed, seeming tired and old for the first time since she'd seen him.
"Typical things, Tortall's wars with other countries demand a lot of passports to death." He explained, "Tusaine, a poor country for example, has been ruined by Tortall many times over. They lose a lot of men every time they decide that Tortall's wealth and power isn't fair." He laughed dryly, "Mithros, the god of war and justice, is having a heyday."
"That's not it though. What else?" She asked.
"The other gods think it isn't right for you to be here." He said almost angrily, "They get to pick their favorites of course, the Great Mother gets her fair share of women to pamper, Mithros gets his natural warriors, and all the others get their people but they think it wrong for me to have even one person I spared." He curled his hand into a fist so that when he let go, relaxing, the leather gauntlet was creased.
"What are they going to do?" Nameless asked carefully, uncertainty growing in her mind. This place, strange, new, something she'd never experienced, was the only thing remotely close to a home she'd had ever in her life. She knew she'd be stupid to give it up. For a strange reason, she felt like she belonged here. The zombies, the wraiths, the skeletons, the strange ghostly presences, they would be forever stamped in her mind, and when she saw something, she'd immediately remember this. Even if they took her physically, always her mind would be here, holding hands with her rotting nursemaid, smiling at lipless servants, thanking ghosts for helping her into her chair.
"If they get their way, they'll find a family for you in Tortall."
"But I don't want to leave, I like it here! Already I feel more at home with the menservants and the maids and Celeste.and even the old bat Rayearth than any other place I could go!" She stiffened in his lap and slid to the floor in a huff, arms crossed over her chest. The Black God didn't deny that he was glad she liked staying with him in his castle, and he didn't want her to be taken from him. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"I'll tell them other gods and goddesses myself if I have to! I'm not leaving!" Her face softened and she sat by his chair. "Since I'm going to stay, can I have a name, please?"
"Your parents didn't give you a name?"
"No, why would they?" She asked plainly, her eyes darkening in anger as she remembered the painful neglect.
"We'll give you a name then, because no daughter, adopted or not, of a god should be without a persona." He stated firmly, then settled into thought as they both contemplated names, each one seeming less suited than the last.
"I have a name." Said a voice. Nameless and the Black God turned around to see the Great Mother Goddess herself standing beside the hearth, her black hair loose about her shoulders, falling over the front of her green dress.
"It was my belief that you wanted me to send the girl away, Great Mother." The Black Lord said in irritation.
"After witnessing your bond I know neither of you would benefit from parting. The girl will stay with you." Though both god and girl were ecstatic, they didn't show it and respectfully inclined their heads.
"Now, your name suggestion?" The Black Lord said, laying a hand protectively on his charge's shoulder. The Great Mother Goddess smiled, her red lips curved.
"I believe she should be called Devon of Nocturne," She said strongly, "Devon meaning god's favor and Nocturne for her place of dwelling, the world of night." There was silence as both entities looked at the girl, who now seemed to be testing the name on her tongue.
"Devon.Devon of Nocturne." She looked up at the gods encouraging forms. "I like it." The great Mother Goddess smiled and knelt in front of her, tilting her chin up so her vivid green eyes locked with Devon's gray ones.
"You are a brave girl, Devon. Only a day ago you were at the point of death locked in an attic in the bitter cold. But you are still very young. Starting in a week's time you will begin taking lessons on being a proper lady with me, and at age ten you will begin training with the god of war as a page, then after you have learnt it all a squire, and finally a knight. You will apply yourself to your studies in all areas, understood?" Devon nodded solemnly. The Goddess smiled lightly, "Are you ready to be taught?"
"Are you ready to teach me?" She countered, and nearly slapped her hand to her mouth in shame. Her first day in the realm of the gods and she'd already back talked to the leader of them all! Suddenly a tinkle of laughter reverberated around the room. The goddess smiled warmly.
"It is quite alright, Devon," she assured her kindly, "but watch your tongue around other, less forgiving people of high standing." Devon nodded, smiling a little. With that, the Goddess was gone.
Devon looked around the library as if seeing for the first time. Books upon layers of books were piled as high as the ceiling. Two crotchety old gnomes with long gray beards that dragged on the ground beside them wandered about, absentmindedly dusting the volumes with care and getting into some argument as to where one of the precious tomes went.
"Pick one to read if you want." The Black Lord said, standing behind her now as she looked at the library. Hanging her head in shame, she shook her head.
"But.but I can't." She said sadly, glancing longingly at the books like they were something she could never have.
"Can't read?" He finished softly, kneeling next to her, though even on his knees he was a good foot and a half taller than her.
"Yessir." She nodded gloomily.
"Well then, there's no better time to learn!" He said determinedly, taking her hand. "You know the alphabet already I trust?" She nodded vigorously.
"My grandfather taught it to me when I was very young." She said proudly.
"Good, because letters are the foundation of all things literary, just like rain is the foundation of all things agricultural." Devon sat down in front of the fire intently as the god picked a book off the shelves and sat beside her.
"Now, try." He said, holding the book out to her, which was turned to the first page. Her gray eyes raked the sentences, her lips moving silently to herself, until, in a shaky voice, she began,
"In a.a hole in the gr-ground there l-lived a.a hobbit." She smiled broadly and accepted a cup of water the gnome brought her as he and his companion, who she later learned were Bobbin and Nobbin, sat beside her, following along with their eyes locked to the words.
"Not a nas.a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit hole, and that means comfort."
They continued into early morning, reading together beside the fireplace.
