Title: We 3 Nemian

Author: Li Mei Xing (Sedge)

Rating: PG-13

Fandom: The Claidi Journals

Warnings: I don't like having to warn for slash (why should I?), but since this is incestuous slash, I guess I will. Don't worry, it's one-sided. But, of course, there'll be plenty of hints at normal slash. Oh, and there's Dagger. She warrants her own warning.

Author's note: Well, this is certainly going to be interesting. I've never written Fanfiction (or much of anything) before so don't kill me. Don't let the title mislead you; there'll be nothing but torment for our little Nemian. Don't even try to take this seriously, either. It was written while listening to the soundtrack of We Love Katamari. That thing's like every drug ever, plus Red Bull and Pop Rocks.

Believe it or not, I consider myself to be Nemian's #1 fan. I just show my love by pointing and laughing at his pain. However, I'll beat you up if you say anything bad about him that isn't out of love.

Well, this has run long enough. So, without further whats-its, I present:

We 3 Nemian!

Warning: I make no claims that this work of fan fiction will make any sort of sense, nor that it will resemble its source material in any way.

Thank you and goodnight.

It had been 20 years since Moon Silk had married Nemian… Nemian… what is his last name, anyway? Does he even have one? She'd never heard anyone mention it. How odd. Well, it had, in actuality, only been 2 years but thanks to the fact that she was married to Nemian and not a man of honor, integrity, and other such things, it had felt like more. Much more. And frankly, Moon Silk was starting to get tired of it.

Truthfully, she could deal with his drinking. Even though he did it practically every night. And he didn't come back until the early morning hours. And sometimes he would pass out at the door to their bedroom. And then he'd sleep until well past noon. Okay, so maybe she couldn't deal with the drinking. Though, none of this was as bad as the… people he… socialized with.

He liked to think she was oblivious to his… cavorting, but she would have to be mad to not realize it. Every night, when he went out bar hopping, he would be in the company of one (or more) of his… friends. And every morning, when he came back, he'd have one of those… oh, who was she kidding? One of those cheap, easy, skanks hanging all over him; sometimes the other way around. Didn't matter who, or what, for that matter, it was. Male or female; as long as it was humanoid, it was his type. And lately she'd seen him being very friendly with their mechanical servants…

It wasn't that she didn't love him… well, she did, once. Some small part of her still wanted to say she still did. And that part had died the day he bought her soap, a week after her birthday. What kind of not-birthday present is soap, anyway?

A few months ago, she would have ignored his behavior; tell herself that he didn't mean any of it, that it was just the way he was. But then she saw how well Claidi and her husband got along, and started to wonder if there was something wrong with her own relationship. That was why she decided to send Claidi a flying letter to ask for her advice. It wouldn't be hard to contact her; after all, they had had her tagged years ago, not to mention all the tracking devices that had been slipped into her personal belongings. The Towers were creepy like that. It didn't take long for her to write back. And her advice was as expected: dump the bastard.

She didn't dare try to divorce him; such a thing was frowned upon by the Towers, especially since their marriage was sanctioned by the Law. Even though it had been destroyed, there were many people within the City who still believed it should be upheld. Mostly it was the royalty, who only had to worry about having to marry someone they didn't like, as opposed to, say, having to make a nest for a family of rats in your hair. However, there might be a way to get this little gold rat out of her hair…

Moon Silk stood in front of the doors to Ironel's apartments; as imposing as its occupant, and just about as attractive. Made of oak, painted black at some point in time, with scenes of horrible creatures carved deep into it. Ironel sure seems to like tentacle monsters…

She wasn't entirely sure of her plan to rid herself of Nemian, and coming to his grandmother, who never really liked her, for help didn't exactly seem like it would help. But she had gotten the feeling that Ironel was humoring him most of the time, especially when he had that run-in with Claidi's husband/dog. She seemed to almost be enjoying it. And who wouldn't? Seeing Nemian get what's coming to him, right in the middle of one of his hissy fits, is the sport of kings. So, with any luck, Ironel was getting as sick of Nemian's behavior as she was. She wasn't going to tell Ironel all this, of course. Instead, she had come up with a little white lie in hopes of getting Nemian into… something of a predicament. 'Oh, I just hope I can remember what I…'

"Do you need something?"

She yelped and jumped back in surprise. Apparently, Ironel had heard her outside the door, (deep in what she supposed was thought,) and now she was standing close enough for Moon Silk to see every nonexistent pore.

"Oh, um…" she curtsied nervously, trying her best to remember the story she had concocted. "I'm, um. I mean, Nemian and I… we're having some… issues?"

"Well, speak up. I don't have all day to listen to your problems."

"There's uh, something… ah. Something… wrong with him."

"And… ?" 'What a twit,' she thought.

"Well, you see… it's because he's… uh. A swamp monster."

"A swamp monster?" If Ironel had the ability to move her facial muscles, she would have raised her eyebrows at this.

"Um. Yes?"

"Well, then. I suppose you do have a point there. We must do something about this immediately." Unbeknownst to Moon Silk, Ironel saw through her poorly-constructed argument right away, as would any sensible person.

However, as everyone knew well, Ironel was a horrible, conniving woman, and not soon to be candidate for grandmother of the year, and as such, found enjoyment in the suffering of others, especially her prissy grandson. He had been acting like such a tramp lately, so this could be the perfect opportunity to knock some sense into him. The fact that it'd be a way to separate him from his dorky wife only sweetened the deal.

"Oh… okay, I guess- wait, really?"

"But of course, my dear; we simply must speak of this further. I'll be available tomorrow morning. But… bring Nemian with you this time, won't you?"

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Aaand that's the end of chapter one. Told you it would be silly. Doll sex, tentacle monsters, swamp monsters… I'm sorry. I'll never do it again.

Okay, I will. Often.