the most dangerous thing [bran]

[Gemini Enigma]

the most dangerous thing

[attr="class","box1"]Gemini's position was, to say the least, precarious. With his brother barely balanced on the throne and his life spent rolling his mother's reputation up a hill, day after day, Gemini was surrounded by the potential to fall. The only thing left to do was to craft his own wings, to build them with the only hands that he could trust. But the process took time; it took scavenging for materials, it took ingenuity.  Luckily, his peers generally left him alone to scheme, as if disgrace was contagious. It may as well have been, in Faerie.  Gemini had taken to wandering the grounds; there was enough of the High Court in his veins that he could feel the pull of the earth, the heartbeat of the land in the movement of life in and under the soil. The air in his lungs was his; it was the east wind, breath of the sunrise. He could feel the stirring of change. He just had to bide his time.  The grounds of Iris overgrew into a forest at the edges like uncut hair, wild and sprawling. Gemini stood before the first cluster of trees, facing the cloudless sky, silver with winter. It rarely snowed outside of the North Court, but the air had the sharp, sterile scent of at least an oncoming frost. It pricked at his senses, prodding them into vigilance.  Something was coming. Gemini trusted his instincts. He needed to catch the right wind to take off, after all.  Bran Viola [newclass=.box1]margin:0px auto; width:300px; height:425px; background: transparent; overflow:auto; padding:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar]width:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #091c3d;[/newclass]

Music Word count: 249 Notes:

credit to Laura of Adox

[Bran Viola]

The fae's affinity for mingling with the earth made borders a rather vague and ill-defined concept. Boundaries with architecture and geography, boundaries, even between emotions were capricious and mercurial. It was incredibly confusing, but Bran was grateful for it. It was far easier to come and go when a compound had no walls. The tricky part was whether or not you were lost along the way. Bran possessed a wearyingly rigid sense of direction.

"Poisoner boy."

A black shape, a heavy stain on the pastel grace of its surroundings. It was a weight reserved for mortal men whose impermanence rested on their backs like a stone, unlike the feathery wisp of starlight wavering at the forests unkempt edge. Bran had, in fact, forgotten the boy's first name.

"Are you involved with your fathers murder? Pardon, but stupid questions are part of my job. You'll need to answer a few."

Bran hadn't equipped himself with much for this foray into the harvesting grounds, this was a school after all, but his clothes still stank of cigarettes and various herbal hues that upset the creatures in this place. Bran did recall that the boy was only part fae, and skilled with a blade to boot, so there wasn't much point in his tools beyond his own weapons.

"I don't think you'd be married off either, you don't seem very valuable, but I need to ask how you feel about the seal you met at the blue moon revel. One of the queen's."

These creatures liked tenuous alliances, or maybe trysts, Bran didn't really concern himself too much with the difference. Boundaries again. Still, if any unity were to develop from the nobility of the surface fae and their visitors from the undersea, it could complicate things. Best to check.

tags-Gemini Enigma,

[Gemini Enigma]

the most dangerous thing

[attr="class","box1"]Some people met fate like an old friend, an ever-present mentor, or a teacher catching them in the midst of trouble. Gemini met fate like a nemesis. Fate intended him to pay for the crimes of those gone before and came with vengeance in its hands. But they were equals on the battlefield he survived each day, and he faced it with the insubordination whose head was forced too long to bow. Fate, today, came in the shape of a boy not much older than Gemini himself. He left footprints. Mortal, Gemini thought.  A mortal with questions and knowledge of current events in Faerie. Not such a rare thing, but unusual enough that Gemini's easily-stirred curiosity was piqued. "And what occupation is that?" he questioned, turning to face this strange mortal. "Were you made an inquisitor? A member of the royal guard? I know you're not the latter, for you're doing me the kindness of asking a question to which I cannot lie." He tipped his head to the side. "Ambrose has forbidden the populace to ask me directly, pretending some care for my dignity. He would just as soon see that dignity crushed in a stampede, of course." His tone was as bitter as the frosty burn of the air around them.  He rested an easy hand on the hilt of his rapier. This didn't need to rise to the need for blades, but he would be ready if it did. "And since you call me the poisoner, you must have drawn your own conclusions." He shifted so that his shoulders were fully square to the visitor, calculating plans and possibilities. A mortal wouldn't be a student at Iris.  "Since you can speak directly, do so, mortal. What is it you'd really like to know?" Gemini's eyes bored into the mortal's like a diamond drill bit. He had a way of cutting more sharply than anything else.  Bran Viola [newclass=.box1]margin:0px auto; width:300px; height:425px; background: transparent; overflow:auto; padding:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar]width:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #091c3d;[/newclass]

Music Word count: Notes:

credit to Laura of Adox

[Bran Viola]

"A mortal, an inquisitor or member of the royal guard? I assume you're being sarcastic. And I did ask you a proper question, you just dodged it, because you're fae. 'Are you involved with your father's murder.' Well, I guess you would be as his son, or bastard, or whatever, so let me ask something else. Are you responsible for his death?"

This kid sure talked a lot. He couldn't fault him, Bran could be the same way, and Gemini was a prince. Sort of. Even if he wasn't full fae he certainly acted like one. He'd dodged the question, and hadn't even acknowledged the second, which had been Brans direct admission that he'd been keeping tabs. Maybe this meant he cared little for the seal, or maybe he was protecting something. It was no use theorizing, bran had been taught, just ask until they have no choice but to reveal something.

"Nah, those conclusions aren't mine. Im not the one who came up with the nickname 'poisoners prince.' And the seal girl, I can rephrase that too if it helps you,"

Bran coughed lightly before enunciating again, as though for the consideration of a child.

"Are you to marry her? Do you feel attraction to her? Do you have business with her, officially, secretly, or in the name of collusion?"

That was more questions than were really necessary. At this point bran was more inclined to bored curiosity than what he was actually supposed to be doing. He'd never had so many opportunities to talk to people in the high court. Generally he was just supposed to hurt them or watch. Talking with carrion, he'd been told, was often a stupid idea.

"Why are you grabbing your sword? Actually, no, why do you even have one, you're at a school. And don't give me that look, I asked what I wanted to know."

tags-Gemini Enigma,

[Gemini Enigma]

the most dangerous thing

[attr="class","box1"]How strange, that in a way he shared half of his heritage with this blunt and casual boy. Gemini had never felt more alienated from his mortal half. Of course the blood was there; none of Faerie would let him forget it. And he was always aware of the slight roundness to his ears, the solidity of his stride. But that a full half of him could be so plain-natured...he searched the boy's face for something he could recognize. Perhaps the insanity of his mother was fae enough to affect him. "I'm pleased to see that we both understand the absurdity of your position," he commented drily. He had no intention of answering these questions until he knew their purpose, which should be relatively easy to ascertain if he knew where to look. The boy had prepared himself with herbs and warding measures that would protect him against full-blooded fae, which indicated knowledge of Faerie and its magic, but his knowledge of rumors and current events communicated that well enough. He was likely aware that Gemini was a half-breed, then, but perhaps he didn't know that that condition made Gemini immune to warding herbs and iron burns. He stowed away a plan to discover if he had this chance at surprise.  "Ambrose believes I am responsible," Gemini replied, locking eyes with the boy and giving a slight, defiant smirk. "He claims that I brought such shame to the family by virtue of existence that the High King paid the price. Some even say that I was the true target. Who can say?" Asking questions was a mainstay of faerie conversation; after all, a question avoided the risk of a lie.  Seal. Gemini was familiar with the slurs thrown against the fae by the few mortals who knew of their existence; they were called animals, beasts of burden and creatures hunted for the spoils of their flesh. This boy had an enmity with the people of Faerie that he'd been prepared to act upon. He could not be trusted with answers.  And why the interest in Princess Mei? Another target, perhaps? She clearly had intentions to smother Gemini's ambitions, intentions that tempted him to send this strange mortal after her and carry on. Likely, of course, it would be the mortal who met his demise, but the princess did not share Gemini's immunity to fae weaknesses, so perhaps they'd be more evenly matched. "I must confess, I am made curious by your interest in me," he said. "Though I realize I am a figure of intrigue, what bearing does that hold on a mortal boy?" He kept a hand close to his weapon. Enough provoking could lead to blows. "If a bit of harmless feeding will be enough to induce a retreat, I'll throw you a scrap. I have no intentions nor history of colluding with Princess Mei, and I suspect she would regard me as a risk too high to bother with. One antagonistic conversation is not enough for us to abandon our respective countries' affairs." He almost laughed at this last comment. The mortal boy spoke so differently from the fae. Gemini supposed he had asked that this odd visitor be direct—it was just disconcerting to have the request granted. "You do not know as much as you pretend, do you? We are taught here the craft of the blade and the art of war. These are necessities to survive in Faerie."  Bran Viola [newclass=.box1]margin:0px auto; width:300px; height:425px; background: transparent; overflow:auto; padding:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar]width:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #091c3d;[/newclass]

Music Word count: 574 Notes:

credit to Laura of Adox

[Bran Viola]

"Great. That's better. I mean, Non-answers, but better."

The mortal boy glanced away from gemini, eyes settling on the cradle shaped by the contour of a large tree root, it would do as a place to sit. Bran did so with the reserve of a man who'd been avoiding his work for the better part of the day. It was nice to be busy with something less pressing for once.

"Oh, no, if you were the target you'd be dead."

For a soldier in enemy territory, the boy certainly didn't seem to conduct himself with much caution. Indeed, if Gemini posed a threat to him, he was just being idiotic. Gemini certainly wasn't worthless in combat for what Bran knew, and even if he was, that threat was increased exponentially with his eyes averted. Even so, Bran pulled himself up onto the root, and let his eyes drop to his pockets, from which he produced a pack of cigarettes and a small matchbox, before his eyes met Gemini's again.

"I'm interested in you because of your relation to your dead father. I thought that was clear."

 Bran considered a match between his thumb and forefinger. He had to use this sort of thing in faerie. The curious effect that the place had on mechanical objects made a lighter useless, and for that matter, made a lot of other tools useless as well. He could only really guess as to why this happened, and though the why of it wasn't very important, Bran always found the downgrade more than a little irritating. The latch on his sword could operate properly, as could most simple forms of technology. A lever was technology. It would stand to reason that there could be some sort of interference with frequencies in the faewild, but something like a lighter or a watch was just a more complicated expression of simple physics. In this case it would just have to be some sort of magic, probably for an aesthetic or dogmatic reason, though the fae's connection to the land caused bran to wonder if this environmental phenomena could be bypassed by the high king. Well, high queen. Bran's momentary pause had given him the space to consider something else as well.

 "It must be difficult. You’re only worth being in your connection to worthwhile people. Are you worth anything on your own? Maybe if the people who walked all over you were dead. Then you’d be worth something. But it’d still be because of other people. Everything is in the relationships between people. How are we supposed to prove individuality in a place like that?
"

 Poor thing. Bran figured that everyone had to reckon with their place in the world, to their environment, to other people. Gemini's position in this regard was a difficult one, but there wasn't much value in suffering that took place in paradise. Bran placed a cigarette between his lips and struck a match.

 "No I don’t think you're responsible. That’d be emotionally motivated and you’re clearly not equipped for that. I imagine a person like you would keep him alive and use him instead. Actually, I imagine you don't really care much for the situation as long as you can twist it to your advantage."

The mocking in his voice, along with Brans implication was clear enough. As smoke began to trail into the air around his head, Bran blew out the match and put it back in the box, before looking back to the faerie with a lazy grin.

 "Aw that’s a shame, you’d make a sweet couple. It’d be a fantastic way to rebel against your dad if he weren’t dead. You could still make Ambrose even more upset if that’s worth anything. The affairs of the high court and the undersea are aligned, anyway right? This is peace time. I already have a hard time keeping track of bloodlines between the cardinal families, too much crossbreeding."

 Bran liked this halfblood. He was intelligent enough for self reflection which made it very fun to poke at things and see what elegant inflection he'd use to disregard them. Still, Bran was here for a reason.
 
 "The death of a king at a gesture of peace to an opposing nation. I have to as a part of the whole procedure but it’s so convenient to point the finger at the undersea. The setup is so textbook. I guess if you do it on a hotbed of all the faeries in the faewild it makes it hard to figure out who exactly the third party is, especially if the assassin is the one who claims the throne. I'll be honest, I don't think that girl has the motivation to do this for herself. It also doesn't really benefit you all that much to order your dad's death, if you're being smart about it. If you're being smart, you'd use it. Here comes the question I need you to answer- are you using this situation? How so?"

 Bran took a drag while he ran over what gemini had said.

"Thanks for implying that you're hand feeding me like an animal by the way, prejudices seem to run both ways. Actually, I'm curious- do you hate your fae or mortal side more? Don’t equate your mortal side with me when you answer, unfortunately for you, your mortal side is very much a personal quality you need to reckon with."

At the half-prince's last verbal flourish, a branch snapped behind brans eyes as they flicked up towards gemini with a piercing clarity that they hadn't yet displayed. Throughout his makeshift interrogation, the little soldier had seemed like a bored child trying to play during a wearisome chore. Despite the gravity of the situation, there was a sense of triviality and mundanity to what he called his job. That ambivalence was replaced with what could only be recognized as pure resentment. brans lip furled in an expression bordering anger and disgust, as he stood in front of his seat and flicked the still lit cigarette to the ground like a needle. 

"Ooooooh the artist and his tool. Quit being a pretentious prick. Do you like the ceremonial duels of the court? How many paces before you turn? Do you like how you look in the traditional garb of a political sacrifice? For a society so versed in the ‘art’ you have a funny habit of poisoning people instead of bothering to fight. Please, you don’t even keep actual armies. You talk like someone who thinks an awful lot about killing. Don't pretend you know what the word means."

The momentary burning in brans eyes dimmed as he looked down and put out the cigarette with his foot, the blades of grass next to it preserved by evaporated dew. When he spoke again he was the same as before.

"War is a mortal sin. Perhaps you’ll be a little better at it for that matter, but drop the pretense that there’s any grace in conflict. There's no winner or loser, stronger or weaker, right or wrong, there’s no worth to any of it, there’s just death, and loss, and whoever it happens to take. Depending on the circumstances even an idiot like you could kill me. But that's not the point."

tags- Gemini Enigma 

[Gemini Enigma]

the most dangerous thing

[attr="class","box1"] Again Gemini's curiosity was getting the better of him. He should have cast this entire situation aside, perhaps run the mortal through if it really came to it, but there were too many questions at play and after spending seventeen years fatally bored, he had a weakness for answers. He did, however, remain standing as his strange visitor made himself comfortable; he was not so foolish as to be quick to let down his guard. He was positioned to draw his rapier at a moment's notice and strike before this boy could stand, should the need arise. To be a prince made him enough of a target; a despised half-prince, even more so.  Gemini raised an eyebrow. "You have a great deal of faith in our assassin." He rested one wrist against the hilt of his rapier and tilted his head to one side, observing the heavy-featured boy in front of him. Here the difference in their heritages was made most obvious; they had many similarities, dark hair and high brows, but there was a greater solidity to this visitor that Gemini's fae blood had drawn out of him. "You speak to me so bluntly and neglect tact like an unwanted child," he said with a slight smile. "For all you know, I may still be grieving." Gemini had never been the sort to mourn, and any grief he may have had had passed years before, over the loss of the father he might have had instead of the man forced to claim and keep him. He made little effort to hide this fact, and had even less need given how much Ambrose intended to keep him from the public eye. That was how the Enigma family tended to do things, and the gentry by extension; they could not deny their embarrassments, so instead they concealed them and left them unspoken.  He couldn't keep a shadow of a sneer from his face at the boy's careless monologue. These were clearly the words of someone who knew nothing of the circumstances they described. "I am potential, a book unread but not unwritten. I could be a toolsmith's son. I could be a lower noble. If there is any worthlessness in me, it is in the ties made without my choice. My greatest worth is my own, detracted only by the whims and downfalls of others." He turned his face away, looking towards the line of the woods, where trees reached upright for the sky. Didn't they know they would never reach it? Didn't they know there was no limit to be reached? "But since you would say such a thing, I assume you have never been taught the worth of independence." He stepped closer, shifting his gaze downward as perspective placed the boy further below him. "From whom have you received your secondhand ideas? Who has led you by the hand through every significant thought? What are you worth, then, connections removed?" He gave a slight click of his tongue, his eyes narrowing just barely as if honing in. "That, if any, is a position I pity." Gemini was tempted to pace, but he didn't want to take his eyes off this visitor now, not if hostility was going to rise. Instead, he shifted his weight and the tilt of his steely silver gaze. The boy was not incorrect; Gemini had learned long ago that seeking every advantage was the only way to get by when one was given none. But to hear a skill turned as an insult on some basis of morals that was useless at best and hypocrisy at worst—it grated. "There are many methods of finding an advantage," he replied. "It is a tool one must learn to wield, or a weapon if you prefer." Gemini had more than enough experience to be aware when he was being mocked. His stare turned a shade colder. "I'm charmed that you are concerned with my romantic affairs. But spare me the pretense since you hardly seem fond of it to begin with." As a matter of fact, Gemini was done with the pretense himself. "Since you have so many questions, let me return a few. Who are you, and why should I tell you the things you ask?" He did not need to give any more answers until he'd had his chance to recieve, but he stored away the boy's rants nonetheless. Of course he only thought of violence. What other recourse remained for him? Of course he'd killed. He put his own ambition to his blade daily. He threw himself to every chance of glory and each time knew he might drown or go up in ash. But he had no need to justify that to this mortal boy. He knew the blood on his hands was his own.   Bran Viola [newclass=.box1]margin:0px auto; width:300px; height:425px; background: transparent; overflow:auto; padding:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar]width:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #091c3d;[/newclass]

Music Word count: 813 Notes:

credit to Laura of Adox

[Bran Viola]


“Is saying what I like to say such a bad thing? For someone so individualistic you cater your words to other people an awful lot.”



Bran was standing now, though he left his posture relaxed as gemini drew closer, the line of the half princes eyes drawing a frigid pane of glass above his head. This anger, if it even was anger, was cold. It felt sort of like the chill that accompanied you when you climbed too high, the chill that you’d feel on the precipice of a mountain, even on a warm summer day. Bran was sustained by a bitter little fire that adamantly refused to notice these feelings.


Bran tried desperately for a moment to hold his laughter from Geminis statement of self worth. He almost managed to hold it in.



“You do know books are for reading, right? Hey, I’m glad you think you’re such a masterpiece, but potential is just an idea, as is the writing on your pages, detracted only by the whims and downfalls of others.”



He couldn’t help but mime gemini slightly at this last bit



“What if no one reads your book? Does it stay only a potentiality? I don’t know how you don’t get this but your circumstances are part of you. Can you read yourself? Have you checked if all the handwriting is yours?”



Bran sighed. As much as he enjoyed it, taunting gemini had become unproductive. Gemini had questions that he wanted Bran to answer, he could start there and walk towards a resolution.



“With connections removed my worth is whatever I like it to be. That worth though, whatever I decide it is, is also subjective, so from your perspective the proper answer would be ‘none.’ I don’t have any worth. Sometimes I want to be worth something, and when I do, I act accordingly, whether I’m pursuing my own worth or someone else’s. But ‘worth’ isn’t real. Im just doing my job.”



Question one, now to move to implication one.



“You’re right, I’ve never been taught the value of independence, because that would be impractical. True independence isn’t possible. Im standing right now, but the only reason I’m standing is because there’s something to stand ON. See what I mean?”



Now that Bran had started, he realized that most of what Gemini had said wasn’t questions anyway, just verbal counterattacks. Bran supposed it was his fault for making it a contest. Gemini only had one sentence that was particularly important. Two if he counted Geminis statement of curiosity in brans name and origin, which would serve as a good bargaining chip in a bet he won either way.



“Our? So you have your own independent connection to Guinivere Marcel?”



He phrased this carefully. A connection, but independent, and his own, of his choosing as opposed to circumstantially. He’d tagged her name, well, the one she’d been using as queen, to make this as pointed as he could. It didn’t matter if it was just a turn of phrase on Geminis part, dodging this, even ignoring it outright was something noteworthy. Though if he said something, that might be even better. Now for the final step.



“You should tell me, if you, Gemini Marvel Enigma, have a personal connection you benefit from, with the high queen by the name of Guinevere Marcel, because if you do, I will tell you my first name, given to me at birth, and allow you a single ‘yes or no’ question of your choosing, which I will be obligated to answer truthfully.”



He motioned with his hand as though a conductor silencing an orchestra. It was, from this gesture, evident that this was the full contract, and whatever else was said would not affect the deal. He’d laced a trap into his makeshift accord. He wondered if Gemini would see it.



“I left you some room. A yes or a no both work as answers. Accept or don’t. Either way my work should be done here.”

Tags-Gemini Enigma,

[Gemini Enigma]

the most dangerous thing

[attr="class","box1"] Gemini found himself despising this boy with a specific repulsion that required more familiarity than he rightly had. Not even a single conversation with Princess Mei had sparked this livid of a loathing in him. A competitiveness, a fascination, perhaps even a focus on surpassing her. But not this irrational flare, this desire to look away, to leave and stop wasting his time. This boy was every reason Gemini hated the mortal parts of himself. “I do not cater. I strategize,” he sneered. “Perhaps that has never occurred to you as an alternative option to a semantic battering ram, but personally I prefer to deduce whether or not someone is an enemy worth having before I make them so. Often I will even introduce myself,” he added drily. My name is Gemini Marvel Enigma. Remember it. Aside from the occasional visiting scholar from Iris, Gemini had been the only keeper of the palace library since he was six years old. Ambrose certainly had no interest in research beyond that which his tutors forced upon him, and Gemini, lacking such luxury, had never—with all his intellect—been able to make sense of it. The library was his labyrinth. He was the only one who knew its pathways and corridors, the only one who knew an unerring route to its heart. It became a shelter for him as much as it was a cage, for though he was safe within its bounds, that safety kept him trapped. He’d taken it upon himself to isolate before his hand could be forced into loneliness, to neglect his father and Ambrose before they could neglect him. It was the piece he could take. It was all the power that he had. So he raised himself reading. He read under tables and in neat slices of sun on windowsills. He paged through history, magic theory, philosophy, and legends at a dizzying rate. He found records of mortal traditions and read them despite himself. But even after nearly eleven years now, there was so much untapped knowledge. Perhaps if he took the rest of his extended life to comb through that library, he could read it all. But even then there would be so much left. And what of those books, the pages never drained, the knowledge never claimed? The thought haunted him. He would become just another volume gathering dust in that labyrinth of a library. His gaze emptied as he leveled it with his confrontor’s, bottomless as a winter lake. “Unfortunately, there is some truth to what you say,”he replied, his voice quiet as the world after snow. “I must make myself worth reading. But that has been the mission of my life. It is a terrible position to be in, but at the least I have the knowledge that the writing is all by my own pen. And so it shall stay. Envy me not, but pity me neither. My wings are not broken. I am building them myself, and I intend to ascend under my own power.” Gemini waved a hand. “But enough of my ambition, determined as you seem to mock me. I do feel some jealousy towards the simplicity of your view. To accept one’s own worthlessness and dependence with content will prevent any great accomplishment, but it certainly must put your mind at more ease than mine.” He presumed this boy was only playacting at being clever. If he actually had any intellect to speak of, he would never be so apathetic. But, then again, there was the safeguard built into his questions. Advisable when dealing with the fae, half- or otherwise. Advisable when dealing with Gemini, not that he expected his visitor to know that. Few ever did. “I suspect the knowledge will be common and historical soon enough,” he mused with a calculating cut to his expression, “so very well. You will fulfill your obligation or the land on which you have agreed you are dependent will claim you rather prematurely, by proxy command of the blackthorn throne and Guinevere Marcel. To whom, yes, I have a beneficial tie. But you may have gleaned as much already. I did say I meant to orchestrate my own power after all.”And what better way to do it than to ally oneself with the High Queen? Bran Viola [newclass=.box1]margin:0px auto; width:300px; height:425px; background: transparent; overflow:auto; padding:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar]width:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #091c3d;[/newclass]

Music Word count: 813 Notes:

credit to Laura of Adox

[Bran Viola]

Bran crossed his arms, and listened. The half-boy’s words had the same dull sting of acupuncture needles being inserted along Bran’s spine. A sensation that was almost pain, or maybe had been before he’d noticed it, and uncharacteristic silence of the flesh. He couldn’t guess how deep the needles were unless he looked at them. Gemini continued, a gentle, consistent snow that powdered the ground where he stood. The fire that occasionally lit in Bran’s eyes was out, his stare hollow and matte.



Bran had found a broken seagull once, on the beach by the villa when he was young. Its left wing was shattered, small splinters of shredded wood clustered around the wound like an infestation. Maybe it had hit a telephone pole. Maybe a disease was what made it crash in the first place. Bran had sat there for a while, watching it, scared. He’d found it, and he was alone, and he didn’t know what he should do to help it. Could he move it? Would it get sick? Would bran get sick? How should he pick it up then? What if it was suffering? Should he kill it? Would that be wrong? What if he tried to kill it when he could have saved it? Bran sat by the bird on that shore for five minutes, trying to decide if he should even do anything at all. In that time, the bird died. Bran sat by its corpse for five more minutes, and cried. He hadn’t healed the bird, and he hadn’t killed it. He hadn’t done anything, but he didn’t choose to do nothing either, he simply didn’t get around to deciding. Bran realized he was crying because he hadn’t done the right thing, and that he was crying over who he was, and that he had made it about himself, and not the bird, and this made him feel even sadder. After a while, he stopped crying and looked at the sky. Where was this bird flying to? Where could it have gone? Where had it come from? Bran couldn’t see anything but clouds on the horizon.

This was the same.



“my wings are not broken. I am building them myself, and I intend to ascend under my own power.”



Where do you intend to go with your wings? Do you intend to fly to the sun and burn? Do you intend to plummet to the sea and drown? There isn’t anywhere for you to go. There’s only an empty horizon.



“Bran.”



He said the name immediately as gemini fulfilled their bargain. The contract was at an end. Anything else would be dangerous. Gemini marvel Enigma is tied to the mortal high queen. That was all bran had really needed, and the prince had lectured him about independence. Ironic. 



Someone else is building your wings for you. You don’t understand what wings are, or how they work, otherwise you’d already be free.



Bran didn’t say this. Chasing birds didn’t matter anymore.



Bran turned around and walked into the forest, as though he intended to do so the moment the bargain was over.

tags-Gemini Enigma,