Part Three: Bravely Surrender

Akari stood at the mountain's base in the circle of frosty wildflower and pressed her palms together. Her head bowed and her shoulders rigid, she prayed.

"Go easy on me, okay."

She hefted her axe, checked that the straps of her utility belt was tight around her hip and all its contents secure and set out; new boots crunched along the icy terrain with resounding assurance in every step. The air felt great, the slow climb upward tugging forgotten muscles into action again. Her broken feet had made a complete recovery. Whether it was thanks to Jin's insistent regime of rest and rehabilitation in equal measures or merely the powers that be didn't matter, she was thankful to both.

Shovelling frozen debris away from the path, she realized quickly that she was working from her memories rather than evidence itself. The landslide had completely obliterated what little was left of the already forgotten pass. Branches of once proud trees were left tangled with the smaller saplings nearer the bottom; they were sewn together by a mixture of time and frosts. She wiped her brow, smiled softly, and thought that was just fine. She'd build a thousand new paths before reaching the top if it was necessary.

He would really hate me for that.

Wintertime on the island was fairly mild. Snow fell, saturated with salt air, and melted at the touch. Near the shore it was little more than a cool shower. But the ground still froze deeper inland and the frosts were cruel the higher you went. She'd worn an extra layer of thermal undergarment in preparation for the cold. There was a pair of woolly socks and thick warm gloves tucked under the band of her belt like four scruffy little stowaways and she guessed it wouldn't be long before she'd seek their additional comfort.

The risks were apparent, and after losing her capabilities as an able-bodied person for too long she knew to respect them. It wouldn't do to admit that she felt a twinkle of confidence that even should danger befall her she would be safe. It was unjust to expect such things. He wasn't some holy safety net, he might even be angry enough to leave her for dead this time. But he knew she came, that was a certainty.

The axe cracked a fallen branch in half within three swings. The log was big enough around to produce a small table; each ring of years it had lived easily discernable. Akari would have liked to see that tree in its full glory. It would've been formidable of course, but also very beautiful. Her heart felt heavy as she waded through the devastation. Did all things in nature meet their end this way or was this a kind of rebirth for the mountain? Out with the old and in with the new. Like the fires that razed the forest when it was ready for new life to spring from the ashes of the dead.

Was the King the same? She'd always felt in some way that he and the mountain were connected. It ran deeper than just the shrine where she deposited her offerings to him- the fact that he was the guardian god of their blessed elements- they were a reflection of each other. What sort of rebirth was he preparing for?

Akari gripped the axe tighter and crawled carefully along an uneven cropping of stone. She reminded every muscle not to be impatient and give in to the urgency she felt in reaching him.

She climbed higher and found herself praying again.

"Wait for me...Wait."

On top of the mountain the summit was unchanged except for the empty throne. The hokura was dusty, bare of offerings, and a pacing circle was clear of snow round the sharp cliff edge. The only thing she did not recognize was the teleportation stone hidden in the far thicket. She dropped her axe against the throne and made her way towards it.

Beside the stone, the smaller twin retrieved from the base was rested at an angle. It was obvious they were tossed here unceremoniously, out of his sight, and yet like this the smaller one appeared to be seeking comfort; leaning against the larger of the two for support. Instinctively her hand reached for it.

"Don't," a voice spoke, deep and fatigued; she spun to meet it and met eyes like fire. "It's still active."

The King was a splash of paint on the otherwise white canvas of the mountain. Snow drifted behind him but never seemed to fall upon him. His hair was a tangle of scarlet down his back, though locks of it continued to escape and sweep into his eyes. His robes remained unchanged but pristine, baring his arms and a good portion of his well-muscled chest. His feet were still bare but the skin showed no signs of the biting cold that permeated from the frozen earth.

Akari drank in the sight of him as though her months away had actually lasted years. She had become far too accustomed to his beauty when she had been able to visit each day.

"Oh," she supplied lamely, feeling as though her mouth had filled with sand, "Sorry."

He dropped into his throne as though he hadn't heard her. A curled fist found the underside of his chin shortly after and he looked out upon his kingdom with heavily-lidded eyes full of disinterest. Akari couldn't see past the fog. She took a step towards him, knees weak, but he spoke first.

"Why have you come?"

Akari's lips fluttered around her long-practice words, but he interrupted once more.

"You have dissolved our contract in doing so."

"Fine!" she sputtered hurriedly, "Just hear me out before you send me away again."

His eyes focused on her sharply, daggers of red under a knit brow. His eyes spoke for him: I'm listening.

Akari paced, feeling her confidence rise again but needing a moment to collect herself. "Okay," she turned to face him. Even sat in his throne he was nearly tall enough for their gazes to level.

"I went against your orders," she began sagely, "and I'm sorry.

I tried to follow your wishes and I kept coming out empty-handed. I have my place in this life, my place with the villagers, but it isn't enough. You were wrong."

The King's eyebrows rose. Akari understood that he was unused to being called out like this, and with the playful nature of their back and forth removed she had no way of telling how he would react. All the same, she had no intention of stopping. She swallowed hard.

"I don't need a husband at home, and I don't need someone to worry after me. Until I came here I've always been alone, and now that I've done my job I'm all alone again,"

The King looked away tiredly and she could tell she was losing him, so her hastened ahead.

"But I need this, I need to come here, and I need you."

Akari was rooted to the spot. He gave pause, gazing distantly and finally turned back to her. His expression was strangely open; a placid lake of water just waiting for something to throw a stone.

"I'm sorry that I made you worry. I won't give up on coming here, and I can only promise to be more careful, but I understand-"

The King had risen, and he looked down on her like a beam of hot sunshine. She discovered the courage to look back. He ran a hand through the hair that lay alongside her cheek bone and cupped her chin.

"That's enough now," he rumbled, although the command was softer than usual. The hand that held her dropped away and her cheek turned cold again.

"Then...?"

He cast a careless hand away, the palm open and the fingers splayed. In an instant the teleportation stone was back where it belonged and the twin was gone.

"You will get used to the sensation of travelling."

"You mean I can't finish the pass?" The King frowned and she followed it up with a light little laugh, "Right, no trespassers, I've got it.

Then how come I'm allowed?" she asked against her better judgement. She felt anxious like a school girl.

"You are different," he said without hesitation, "You belong."

The King had not lied, after a few journeys with the teleportation stone her stomach no longer turned. The dizziness would take a moment or two to dissipate, but the terrible sensation of wrongness never took root again. Akari had to kick herself for causing so much trouble over what boiled down to as a little bit of a sore tummy one day.

However the entire ordeal had cast one long lasting change she wouldn't have traded for the world.

"Akari,"

She jolted from her crouched position near the stone. She'd discovered that the travelling was a lot easier when she was in a full brace position. Her heart hammered hard and she was sure it wasn't an after-effect.

"Akari," he called again, stronger this time. He neared her side.

She smiled, as much as it felt ridiculous on her face, "I'm okay."

Sat in front of the shrine, arranging her offering of the traditional steamed cake she grew more and more anxious. Her shoulders were bunched uncomfortably and her breath came in hesitant little gasps as she tried to disguise her breathlessness.

Get a hold of yourself, Akari.

He waited behind her, his arms crossed in his usual manner and the heat of his gaze locked on the cakes until she feared they might melt- another one to cross off the list of favourites.

King, she tried. No, my King—my lord,

"Hey," she blurted ineffectually, "if you gave me some clues you wouldn't have to put up with my guessing."

"It's more entertaining to watch."

She laughed, relaxing, "That's not fair."

Once the morning fog had cleared they stood on the edge of the summit and she pointed to her farm. She showed him every plot of land explaining what would grow once the spring returned and she named each of the grazing animals though they were little more than dots. The King stood by, patient with her rambling, and teased her for her efforts with the haggard expression of someone deeply harassed.

"I know," he said plainly.

"How? We're up so high you can hardly see."

"I know," he repeated, and she failed to find a second retort.

"King," she groped cautiously, studying her feet. Her nose wrinkled up at the sound of the title finally spoken.

"Akari," he returned as though speaking to a child. But it was thanks to his unabashed pompousness that nodded firmly, finding the will to continue.

"You know my name but even after all this time I don't know what to call you."

"You may call me as you see fit."

She balked, laughing humourlessly as his expression remained fixed, "So you don't have a name?"

"It hasn't bothered you until now," he said pointedly.

"Well..." she watched the tiny meandering dots of her cattle, "You've never used my name until now."

The King was still. After a moment she realized that while he may have made the conscious decision to call her he hadn't anticipated that she would figure it out quite so soon. She wanted to gloat; they were more alike than he knew.

"You have earned that honour."

Akari was taken aback, her heart thumping hard suddenly, "Then I'd like to give you that same honour."

"No," he said, purpose in every syllable. He swung away from the summit edge gracefully with a soft swish. "No human has ever known my name. It is not your honour to bestow."

"That's not fair!" she rebuked immediately, an echo of her earlier criticism. His eyebrow twitched amusedly and his lips curled at the corners until there was a mean little smile.

"Fairness was never on the table."

Akari raged feebly, too many miles away from civilization to disturb much more than a leaf. She cast him a backwards glance petulantly thinking to stick out her tongue- the ultimate show of disrespect, and the most childish, but the King was laughing

And his deep generous laugh burned all of her frustration away.

"You're going up the mountain again?" Van eyed her suspiciously.

Akari faltered, "How did you know?"

"It's obvious isn't it?" he huffed, "You're rushing all your jobs and you keep looking up at it."

"You're very astute for a seven year old, you know that?"

"And you keep checking your hair," he frowned.

"I do not!" She defended, at once combing her fingers through her short locks, "you're following me aren't you Van..."

The boy in question blushed until even his ears showed red, "Dad told me." He fidgeted and his eyes grew wet; his glasses magnified the tears until they looked primed for bursting. "Don't go, Akari, you'll hurt yourself again."

When Akari lowered herself to his eye level he really did cry. He brushed big gobs of tears away with chubby knuckled fists. She pulled him into a tight hug. "I'm not going to get hurt, I promise. I'm more careful now."

"You can't promise that," he sniffled, "you can't control what might happen."

She smiled, squeezing him once. "Sure, that's true, but I also have a guardian spirit." Van looked at her with hesitant interest, his tears dammed for the moment, and she took that as her sign to continue.

"Maybe you have one too, there about this big with big black eyes and little feet. They were colourful hats and they fly on wings like a dragonfly." The hands that had moved to press Vans into a fairy-sized shape dropped away, but his interest didn't waver.

"A guardian spirit..." Van contemplated.

"They're called sprites. Mine is named Finn."

"I've never seen one before."

"You have to keep looking," she coaxed, "They'll appear if your mind is open and your heart is good and I know you have both of those things, Van.

Don't worry about me, I'll always find my way home."

Once she had seen Van home to his mother, Akari deviated from her original plans. She went to the Goddess Tree and saw that it was once again laden with fruit. Even on her tiptoes they hung too high to reach, and the goddess did not answer to her call.

The new spring was still cool but the sun was bright so Akari sat under its shade. With her arms wrapped around her knees she watched the boughs that seemed to hug the sky around her and didn't see even the tiniest flicker of movement.

She was unable to tell how much time had passed when he appeared.

"She sleeps," The King said sombrely.

Akari tried not to stare at the way he set all of the soft blues and greens of the Goddess Pond alight with his fierce scarlet, "What are you doing here?" she asked, forgetting herself.

"She told me you were here, and I sensed your wavering heart."

Akari buried her face between her knees. She sometimes forgot that she was not dealing with just another man but a divine being; what other sort of things did he sense without her knowing, she wondered?

-"You keep checking your hair."

She chewed her lip where he couldn't see.

"You were late," The King finished shortly and Akari glanced up, startled. The daylight poked through the trees and dappled over his sun kissed skin. His eyes were steady on hers as his hand was offered to pull her up.

"Come," he said gently.

She reached for him and the fingers that closed around her smaller hand were surprisingly cool.

The pond disappeared, the tree disappeared, and with them all her false sensations of loneliness. The King was a balm to every pain and uncertainty that had ever plagued her, erasing them all with his comfortable heat. The swell of their movement set her dizzy but his presence enveloped her like a barrier. He was supportive and strong yet infinitely soft- so different from travelling by the stones on her own.

When she opened her eyes again they were on the mountain, her cheek flush against his chest. She stepped away slowly, allowing the fresh open air to clear the fuzziness from her head.

"Come," he repeated, motioning toward the hokura. "What have you brought today? The sprites are hungry for more of your terrible cakes."

Akari laughed weakly at the mention of sprites, "Just bread again," she replied.

The King sniffed disdainfully, "They hate the bread."

In the summer of that year Akari was once again accustomed to spending her lazy afternoons bathing in the sunshine. Her fieldwork had dwindled with her latest purchase of a second-hand irrigation system which she had bought with some of the money she'd earned from selling a number of her pedigreed animals. It was a reluctant goodbye but she always knew it would come to this.

On the summit the King sat in his throne, never complaining of the heat or the sun in his eyes; warm yet peaceable. Akari rested her head against his knees, drawing her finger through the sandy dust near his toes and drifting in and out of thought. Sometimes she dozed, waking up with the dazed sensation that her hair had been stroked tenderly while she slept.

As the evenings closed in and the sun dipped behind the clouds Akari's energy would return. The summit was not the most entertaining of places but it was amongst the most mysterious.

"How long have you lived here?" She had done a third turn around the hokura, looking for any secret seams of trap doors. With some luck she might find a manuscript of a sacred item; something that bound the King here like any other deity to a shrine.

"Longer than a number that you might successfully recite for me," he mocked good-naturedly.

"Hey, I'm great with numbers- and success!"

She ran her fingers along the underside of the eaves, over every stone, and came away dusty but not deterred.

"What you are doing is very disrespectful," The king warned, but continued to watch her with amusement. "And it is getting late. Your quest for whatever it is you are seeking will have to wait."

"I don't live far. It's not like I haven't walked home in the dark before," she answered coolly, pushing her hair from her face as she studied the roof next.

"The dark is no place for a woman," he grabbed her hand, removing it from the hokura and entwining their fingers. She hadn't noticed when he had closed in behind her. The King led her and deftly placed the hand which he had claimed onto the glowing teleportation stone, trapping it under his own. "Go," he ordered.

At the sight of their hands, with his warmth at her back, something stirred in Akari's breast and fluttered like a trapped bird. The feeling sang down through every vein; a sweet discomfort.

"Come with me," she murmured.

He hesitated, "I cannot."

"Then let me stay."

The King sighed, releasing her. "How carefree..."

"No," she turned into him, "it isn't. I've thought about it a lot."

"Then your thought process is inefficient," he interrupted sternly and his gaze grew sharp.

He swept an arm out and gestured across the plateau, "What do you see here, Akari? A palace around my throne? A kitchen to make your bread in? A bed for you to rest?"

Akari refused to look and so he continued.

"There is nothing. No room for you, no creature comforts. There is merely a man, who neither sleeps nor feeds as you do."

Akari shook, "Then what do I need to do to stand by that man?"

The summit was quiet; free of bird call, and the whistle of the wind through the thinning trees. The plateau stood empty as he had said; the tiny hokura and a throne made of stone stood as the only documentation of his life here. Suddenly it seemed too sad, his godliness more like a curse- what did he live to gain from this world that did not worship him? Did all of his desires simply disappear as he looked down on his thriving natural land? And how many years had he spent in anguish over these very same thoughts.

Were gods and humans- their mortal reflections- really so different?

"You do not know what you are saying."

"But I do." She insisted, "You know as well as I do that I'm here more often than I am not, that I've slowly been relinquishing my work... That I nearly go myself killed trying to get to you..."

"You will die," The King sanctioned. His stature was proud and every bit a god who had seen the world begin and end and who would repeat the cycle again. He was all angles and shadows of power and loneliness in equal measures, but solidified by the intense determination never to fold under the weight of either.

"And I will not."

Akari squared her shoulders and straightened her back, trying to match his show of strength as best as she could; a human, a girl, a love.

"Then we shouldn't waste the time that we've been given."