Writer: finem
Mirror, Mirror
Part 2
Lost in the pages of information, Zexion could almost forget that he was not in the place that he had learned to think of as home since the time when he lost his heart. Despite the fact that he was reading about a world that existed nowhere in his frame of reference; despite the fact that his living quarters were full of decadence and debauchery rather than the empty neutrality of Castle Oblivion or endless white of their base on the World that Never Was, he could almost escape what was becoming an increasingly disturbing reality. Demyx wasn't cowering quietly on the bed across the room; there was no twisted array of 'toys' set out for Zexion's 'pleasure' to use on the blond. There were only the words on the pages, the knowledge that came with reading, and the comforting feel of logic and analysis that the schemer prided himself on.
The ideas of this world were bizarre, to be sure, but he view them as he viewed information where had come from; insight, a look into the minds of the people, and a means of becoming better able to control the things around him. Lifting his Lexicon from his side, he made note of a concept known as 'Unbirthdays' that seemed to be of some import to the people of Wonderland.
It had been with no little relief that Zexion discovered that his weapon, at least, was still within his reach even if nothing else remotely familiar to him was. It gave him some sense of control over the madness around him; helped him to focus his thoughts as he tried to figure out how he would solve his current predicament.
There was a quiet creaking of springs and Zexion was aware that Demyx was shifting from the bed. He paid the blond no attention. He wasn't sure what Demyx was expecting of him, but Zexion figured that it would be best to give the blond his space for now. It definitely seemed like something that was sorely needed.
"Shall I refill your tea, Superior?"
The submissive tone in the other's musical voice sent Zexion's nerves on end. This was so contrary to the goofy, carefree satirist he was accustomed to.
"No, thank you, Demyx," he replied without taking his eyes from his reading. He couldn't be bothered with trying to figure out what to do with the blond at the moment.
As a Nobody, he couldn't really feel anxiety or panic, but he had the distinct impression that if he had a heart, those emotions would be fairly accurate for the situation. He was in a position of power, and where there was power, there would always be those who sought after it. Eventually, someone would piece things together and figure out that Zexion was not the same man that they all thought he was. When that happened, his life would be forfeit.
However, considering that Zexion ended up in this place because he had been trying to kill himself, the possibility of death did little to bother him. It was simply the idea of ending in a world not his own that caused him to wonder. What if he just ended up in another world? What if there was no end to this? Was it possible that as a Nobody, he was doomed to cycle endlessly from world to world, never truly finding the peace death?
The concept of horror flashed through his mind, an echo of the emotion that he would have felt if only he had a heart. As things stood, however, his chest was empty. The emotion was only a thought and the though brought on only a vague sense of distaste. Death was of little concern. Staying alive long enough to find a way home would be preferable, but not something to struggle unduly for.
It was for this reason that Zexion didn't even flinch when he felt the sudden bite of sharp, cold steel pressed against his jugular, long fingers grasping his hair and jerking his head back painfully.
"I've gotta hand it to you," Demyx said from behind him, "trying to replace the most powerful man in the city. You must have a pair of big hairy ones."
The blond's voice held a hard edge that Zexion would not have expected from the docile creature he'd grown accustomed to seeing.
"Next time, do a little more homework." The blade was pulled tightly enough to draw blood. "But then again, there won't be a next time, will there?"
"And what are you planning to do when they come in tomorrow and find me dead at your hand?" Zexion asked, perfectly calm despite the fact that he'd felt the tensing of muscles as Demyx prepared for the killing stroke. He'd tuck it away for later to think on what it meant that this version of Demyx was so quick to resort to violence.
"I'll tell them that you were a fake, and they'll find the real Zexion and bring him home." Demyx said pulling harshly at the hair clenched in his fist.
"Are you so certain?" Zexion asked, and he felt the blond hesitate. Pressing the advantage, Zexion continued. "How do you know I'm not your Zexion? How do you know that I wasn't changed by my…accident?"
"Accident my ass!" Demyx hissed into his ear. "Who do you think found the Superior? No one 'accidentally' shatters a mirror and gets perfect lines sliced up their wrists. If anyone else had found him, they probably would have left him for dead!"
"In other words, your Superior was so hated that his death is something his own subordinates wouldn't hesitate to allow. This is the man with whom you are so eager to reunite? Why?"
The question seemed to catch Demyx off guard.
"He clearly mistreats you, abuses his power over this city, and yet you want him back?"
"That's right," Demyx said, and his voice was less confident that it had been moments before. "He is the Superior. My Superior. He looks out for me…takes care of me. Without him, I'm nothing."
"And clearly, with him you're not much more. Release me and I will tell you my story," Zexion said, coming to a decision. During his time within this Organization, it had become clear to him that he would need an ally of some kind if he planned to successfully navigate his new role as leader. So far, Demyx seemed the least likely to turn on him. He could tell well enough that his Second was not to be trusted, and the mere fact that Demyx was willing to listen seemed a positive indicator. It was a calculated risk, but one Zexion was willing to take.
There was a long moment of hesitation as the other male considered his words. At length, the fingers in his hair slowly released and the biting blade was pulled away. Demyx circled in front of him, blade still leveled at Zexion as he eyed the quiet man suspiciously.
"Alright, I'll bite," he said leaning against the table where the tea and toys were situated. He selected a second blade from the collection, a dangerous promise glinting in his eyes. "This is Wonderland. We always love to hear a good story. But it better be good because we get a little bitchy if the story sucks."
Zexion eyed the blond blandly, opening his Lexicon and flipping the pages with practiced ease. Immediately, the room began to change, features fading to darkness as the schemer immersed himself in his element.
"Two weeks ago," he began as the tall white chairs and cool blankness of his Organization's meeting hall took shape around them, "I was a member of an Organization not unlike your own."
He spent to next several minutes showing Demyx his previous existence, explaining the hierarchy of power, the differences in rank. He touched lightly on Heartless and Nobodies, explaining the existence of the Keyblade and its chosen Master.
All of it was taken in with wide, disbelieving eyes. Demyx had gone quite pale as soon as the illusions began spinning around him, taking particular distress when he was confronted with the doppelganger of himself. He didn't speak a work for the entire telling.
When he was done, Zexion calmly closed his book and looked up from his seat to meet Demyx's eyes.
"You now know who I am," he said simply. "Do with the information what you will, but understand that your Superior is no more likely here than mine is, and I imagine that killing me would only bring more trouble upon you."
Demyx simply continued staring at Zexion as if he had just proclaimed himself a jabberwocky, and Zexion stood, banishing his weapon in a final example of power, which was definitely not of that world.
"I will retire now," he said. "The choice is in your hands."
Zexion undressed and climbed into the luxurious bed wondering idly at what decision the other would come to. It wasn't long before the lights in the room were turned off one by one, and he felt the mattress dip as another body huddled onto it as far from him as possible.
Apparently, Demyx would not be murdering him in his sleep. I was a step in the right direction.
-:- -:- -:-
Zexion woke some hours later to the feel of a warm hand questing across his chest. He repressed a shiver at the gentle touch and the knowledge of who was so carefully probing him. The hand stopped to settle over his heart and he understood immediately, shifting slightly to give the other male better access.
"You really weren't shitting me were you?" the blond asked in wonder. "I wasn't dreaming, or high or anything. You really don't have a heart in there, do you?"
"No, I wasn't; no you weren't; and no, I don't" Zexion replied simply, waiting to see how Demyx would respond. The blond watched him a moment longer before a hesitant smile began twitching to life on his lips.
"Th-this could be good," he said as if unsure he could really believe what was happening. "This could be really good."
They spent the rest of the morning discussing exactly how they would go about passing Zexion off as the Zexion of that world.
"First off, you're way too nice," Demyx said, playfully flipping and catching knives to keep his hands busy. If the wrong people figure you out, it's over, for both of us, y'know? Numbers II and III, you gotta watch out for them. Even before this happened Xemnas was gunning for you and Saix does whatever Xemnas tells him to.
"We might be able to trust a couple of the others, but I don't know…I gotta make sure. Gotta think about this…"
There came a knock at the door and Xemnas stepped in without waiting for a response.
"Yes?" Zexion asked, turning from Demyx, who had visibly jumped and fumbled a blade at the intrusion.
"Superior," Xemnas began in his rich tenor. "The Queen is in transit. I've come to escort you to your meeting with her."
"Where will this meeting be held?" Zexion asked coolly. Xemnas paused a moment before answering, eyeing the other man strangely.
"It will be held in the 12th floor conference room as always, Superior."
"Fine," Zexion told him. "Meet me there. I have some things to attend to before I come."
"But, Superior, as your second in command my place is—"
"Your place, Number II, is doing as I say," Zexion said, turning from the taller man dismissively. "I will be down shortly."
Xemnas' fury was a living, breathing thing in the room. "Very well, Superior," he said in very carefully respectful tones. "I will be waiting with the rest of your entourage at your private stair well."
With that, Xemnas made his exit, leaving Zexion with a Demyx who seemed to have reverted to his previously beaten self.
"Demyx," Zexion said, rising from the edge of the bed to check on the other male. He knelt beside the crouching blond, noticing the sliced flesh on the back of one hand where the fumbled blade had cut him. "Are you alright?"
Demyx looked up at him with eyes that were lost. "This is nuts," he said, avoiding Zexion's eyes. "I don't know what I was thinking. Doing this means going up against Xemnas and half the rest of the Organization. There's no way we can pull it off. No way…"
"Demyx," Zexion tried again, hoping to rein the other in from his sudden pessimism. "Demyx, I need your help." He grabbed a napkin from the tray of untouched tea beside them and began dabbing carefully at the blood welling from the cuts, which seemed to have gone unnoticed by the blond. "Who is this Queen I will be meeting with?"
The blond paused in his rambling to look up, cobalt connecting with ocean in a moment of sudden understanding. They would be doing this together. They needed each other. Alone, perhaps, it would be impossible for either of them, but together…
"The Queen of Hearts," he murmured, taking the napkin from Zexion's hand to tend to his own wounds. "She's your primary competition in the city. You guys battle it out for turf all the time."
"What do I need to know about her?" Zexion settled back. He flipped open his Lexicon, committing information to the volume and, in doing so, his memory.
"In some ways, she's even more ruthless than you," Demyx chuckled a little. "Her group is actually called the Heartless, but they're definitely not the little buggy things you showed me last night. She sees herself as owning all of the hearts of the ones she controls. I hear when she gets really pissed-off, she'll have the heart cut right out of you. Her main muscle doesn't even flinch about it apparently."
Zexion moved to his closet, mentally recording the information in his book while he pulled out a familiar black uniform coat and another one for Demyx. He handed the clothes over as the blond continued speaking.
"The King of Hearts is actually one of ours," he said, rising to slip into the coat. "You planted him in her organization years ago and he's managed to climb the ranks to become her Second. Roxas, Number IV, is in charge of him as well as all your other assassins. I have no clue how they've managed to keep the kid in that deep for so long without getting caught."
Zexion was now steering them towards the door planning to be prompt despite his lack of preparation.
"What else should I know before this meeting?"
"Uh…" Demyx stumbled slightly as he got his footing. "You'll probably be meeting with the Queen, King and her White Rabbit. He's the Queen's personal bodyguard. No one's ever been able to beat the guy, he's inhuman or something. She'll have a bunch of other escorts with her, too.
"It'll be you and Xemnas with Lexaeus acting as your muscle. Last time you met with her things got a little ugly. Xemnas will probably handle most of the talking, so just…look like a cold-hearted bastard and you should be fine."
Zexion nodded at this, leading Demyx to the elevator within his private stair well. He pressed the button for 12 and silently prepared himself for the unknown.
The elevator doors opened smoothly, and Xemnas, Saix, Lexeaus, Roxas, Axel, and a few other faceless nobodies greeted him.
"This way, Superior," Xemnas gestured, and Zexion, reluctantly stepped away from Demyx's side. The conference room was in on of the corners of the large building that served as a base of operations for the Organization. It was just beneath Oblivion which was appropriately located on the 13th floor. Half the room was made up of large, pane-glass windows, overlooking an expanse of Wonderland. The city was murky and dark even in the morning light. The sun shining through the mist of smog gave the place a strange, rusty hue, making it seem almost like a painted backdrop.
Aside from the windows, the room was entirely black. The floors were tiled with black marble, the walls painted a light absorbing matte, and in the center of the room stood a long table made entirely of dense, black leaded glass. The table was cleaned to perfection, reflecting Zexion's impassive face back up to him. He was seated at a lone chair placed at the center of the length of one side of the table, and the rest of his entourage filed in to stand behind him, hoods raised and backs to the window. Xemnas stood, de-cowled, behind Zexion to his right, and Lexaeus to his left, the two men flanking him ominously. The sight of the silent figures was intimidating even to Zexion's eyes.
Moments later, the door opposite the side of the table where Zexion was sitting swung inward, and several figures dressed in black denim filed into the room, eyeing the hooded figures standing in front of the windows suspiciously. The black clad figures lined up in the same way that the Organization had, and Zexion noted with small interest that they each had a small Heartless emblem patched on the left breast of their sleeveless, collared coats; the same emblem from his own world.
"The Superior of Organization XIII welcomes the Queen of Hearts."
Up until that point, the proceedings had taken place in a tense silence. The tension in the air seemed only to thicken at the barely concealed sneer in Xemnas' voice as he called the Queen in.
The first to enter was a lone figure who gave the room a careful survey. He, unlike the other Heartless, was dressed entirely in white, a startling contrast against the black that filled the room. A large stylized rabbit head was etched in silver, covering the lower half of the right flank of his long coat; the Queen's personal bodyguard. Zexion was taken completely by surprise at the youth's appearance. Aquamarine eyes flashed over him quickly, silver hair fell messily over broad shoulders, and the schemer noticed that there was a small, ruby heart pinned to the thick collar of the teen's white coat.
Riku returned to the door and bowed slightly as his Queen and King swept into the room, both also wearing similar coats to Riku's. The King's was lacking in the rabbit head, and instead had a simple silver crown etched on his left breast, two hearts pinned to his collar. The Queen's was far more elaborately decorated, and covered with angry, scattered red and pink hearts, flaring gown-like at the bottom. The color's seemed to have been chosen to match the woman, no, the girl's hair color. She couldn't possibly be out of her teens yet either, and as Zexion stared in silent confusion at the blue-eyed Keyblade Master who apparently was the second in command to a ruthless killer, the girl stepped forward, slamming her hands angrily against the surface of the black glass, indigo eyes flashing.
"I'm not happy, Zexion," she stated in falsely sweet tones. "I'll let you guess why."