Chapter Text
The wing commander had told Gideon that it wasn't necessary for her to be present when the shuttle landed. Its passenger would be arriving alone, unaccompanied, so there was no need for the pomp and circumstance that the Houses might have otherwise demanded. They would carry out the usual procedure that was necessary for any House official; scan the ship, cuff the zombie, and put her in a secure room for briefing.
"I thought that's why you'd want me here," said Gideon, using the sort of tone that her comrades knew preceded an inappropriately timed joke. She proved them right by clarifying, "For the cuffing."
Several of the masked and uniformed people around her visibly reacted, some of them groaning audibly through the crackle of voice changers. Wing commander We Suffer cuffed Gideon on the back of the head, making her grin at their dismayed reactions.
"Hey, mind the hair!" Unlike the others, Gideon wore nothing to conceal her face or bright shock of red hair. "I want to be my most sexiest and alluring self today."
"Gideon, you have my utmost respect, but also my ire," said We Suffer in her best 'tired of your shit' voice. "Please, for the love of the Commander, behave yourself."
Gideon grimaced at the mention of her late mother and fell silent, straightening her spine just in time for the hum of a shuttle engine to reach her ears.
The ship was smaller than the ones the Houses usually sent, and an older model to boot. Gideon was a little surprised that it hadn't just burnt to a crisp in the atmosphere. As the ship slowly touched down on the landing tarmac, the group of Blood of Eden troops all stood around looking like the universe's most boring and heavily armed funeral procession. They waited for confirmation to come over the radio that there were no issues on the scanner, and We Suffer gave the order for the shuttle doors to be opened.
The Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House descended the shuttle ramp with her head held proudly high, despite the circumstances. She was draped from head to toe in heavy black cloth, which seemed overkill even for the chilly weather, and her face was concealed by a veil. She stopped when her feet touched the tarmac and wordlessly presented her wrists to the agent waiting to handcuff her with anti-necromancy bands. The agent did so, roughly, and Gideon stepped forward, neatly dodging We Suffer's outstretched hand when it tried to grab her.
"Welcome to New Rho," Gideon greeted the necromantic princess. She casually dismissed the other agent with a wave of her hand. "I hope your journey wasn't too tiring. Sorry about all of this, the bracelets will come off after we get you settled. I'm Gideon, by the way, if you hadn't already guessed."
The newcomer in black was silent for a moment and Gideon felt her critical gaze even through the veil. Eventually, to Gideon's horror, the princess knelt before her and graciously bowed her head, the black robes pooling around her like an ink spill. When she spoke, her voice was calm and cold.
"I thank you for your concern, honored fiance. I, the Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus, am grateful for the opportunity to be here with you, and to serve as a bridge between our people. I pray that our union will be the seed that blossoms into a peace that flourishes for generations to come."
"Please, stand," said Gideon, profoundly embarrassed. And, when curiosity got the better of her, "May I remove your veil? Or is it, like, a religious thing?"
"The veil functions as a sunscreen. If you wish to remove it, I cannot stop you." For all of her flowery words, the reply was surprisingly curt. Still, the Reverend Daughter rose to her feet and did not flinch when Gideon reached for her.
Gideon carefully lifted the veil of her bride to reveal a skull—no, not a skull, but a dour, pointed face that had been painted with excruciating detail to resemble one. Gideon looked with interest at the confident, practiced brush strokes and tried to peer past the paint to the visage beneath. The princess had eyes as black and fathomless as a void, and a mouth that turned down at the corners in a perpetual frown. Her expression was almost stoic, but Gideon could see hints of the rage she restrained in the way she looked at her betrothed, as though she were idly contemplating the most efficient way to bore a hole into Gideon's head.
Gideon nodded in satisfaction and let the veil fall back into place. "I bet you're a riot at funerals."
The princess hesitated, as though unsure how to respond. "Perhaps."
—
Gideon remained by the Reverend Daughter's side during her briefing with the wing commander. We Suffer went through the pleasantries of thanking the necromancer for being a bastion of change, outlined her expected conduct within of Blood of Eden's operations, and finalized the legal document that would make the marriage official. The princess sat silent and immobile, responding only when prompted and usually saying only yes or no. Afterwards, when they had finished searching her luggage and she was officially released into Gideon's custody, the Reverend Daughter finally showed some interest in her surroundings when Gideon dismissed the guards that were meant to escort them.
"What would you like for me to call you?" Gideon easily carried the princess's trunk and led them into an elevator. She selected a floor near the top of the building. "Is 'Harrowhark' alright?"
"I would appreciate being referred to as 'Nonagesimus.'"
"My name is kind of a mouthful, so I'd prefer if you just called me 'Gideon.'" Gideon glanced sideways at Nonagesimus. Her head inclined slightly under the veil and Gideon knew she was looking back at her. "I'm sorry about the collar. I didn't know they were going to do that."
The handcuffs had been removed, but Nonagesimus now wore a thick metal band around her neck; the newest model in BoE's instant decapitation technology. Unlike the previous versions, it did not constantly beep when active and was much less likely to explode on accident.
Nonagesimus's reply was as cold and sharp as a guillotine sliding home: "I will think of it as my wedding band."
There was nothing appropriate to say in response to that, so they suffered through a very long and quiet elevator ride together. When they reached the twenty first floor, Gideon stepped out first and Nonagesimus followed behind her. The hair on the back of Gideon's neck stood up and she fought the urge to turn around.
"It's not much, but it's home." Gideon opened the door to her apartment and gestured for Nonagesimus to enter. She locked it behind them and went around flipping on lights, revealing a decently sized kitchen and sitting room, both kept neat and tidy. The princess waited in the entryway, looking out of place in such a domestic setting, like a cross between a death omen and a very fancy floor lamp. "I don't know what you're used to on the Ninth, but I hope you'll like it well enough. You're not allergic to cats, are you? Sausage is around here somewhere, but she usually just stays in my room. Here, this one is yours."
Nonagesimus followed Gideon down a short hall that led to a bathroom and two bedrooms. The room that was to be hers had its own bed and desk, as well as a functioning lock on the door. She stared for a little too long, watching as Gideon set her trunk down in front of the closet. Slowly, she said, "I did not expect a cage as gilded as this."
"I don't know about gilded, but there is hot water, so I guess that's something. Unfortunately, you are right about it being a cage. We're still working out the details, but you'll be accompanied by a guard whenever you're not here, at least for a little while. Speaking of which, I recommend that you paint those gauges black."
Nonagesimus startled and turned towards Gideon, who smiled and tapped a finger to one of her own ears. The other agents who had examined her for contraband were so unnerved by the face paint that they had failed to notice the rings of bone set into her stretched lobes.
"We'll both be in hot shit if you're caught with those, Nonagesimus."
The necromancer removed her veil and glared suspiciously at Gideon. Without it, the unfiltered anger and contempt on her face were intensified by the skull paint. "You are acting as my advocate. Why?"
Gideon shrugged and looked away, speaking instead to her luggage on the floor. "It sucks, right? Being forced away from your home. I can't pretend that I know exactly what you're going through, but I've been relocated to a few different planets, so I'm at least familiar with the concept."
Nonagesimus said nothing, just continued to watch Gideon as though she were a lab rat displaying usual behavior. Gideon started to ease backwards out of the bedroom.
"I'll let you unpack and get settled. Tell me if you want something to eat, or if you need anything at all, really. I'm not on duty today, so I'll be here."
Gideon gently closed the door to give Nonagesimus some privacy, and because her personality was more than a little intense. She wasn't sure what to expect, but Gideon didn't hear a peep out of that room for the rest of the day, not even when she made dinner in the evening. When the sun had set and there had still been no sign of the princess, Gideon went and quietly tapped on her door.
"Sorry to bother you, but I do need to confirm that you're not a suicide risk."
The reply came more quickly and from much closer than Gideon had expected, as though Nonagesimus were pressed right against the other side of the door. Her voice sounded tired now, and less controlled than it had been earlier. "I'm too expensive to die."
Gideon started to say something, but reconsidered. Instead, she said, "I'm leaving some food here for you."
"I don't want it."
"You haven't tried it."
"The smell alone is offensive."
Gideon raised her eyebrows and examined the dish in her hands. She knew she wasn't a bad cook. "Do you not eat meat?"
A pause. "No."
"That's my bad, I should have asked. I'll get you just some noodles and vegetables, then." Gideon switched out the food and left a covered bowl outside of Nonagesimus's room, along with a few bottles of water. "I'll see you in the morning."
There wasn't a response. Gideon touched the doorknob, letting her fingertips rest on the cool metal, but then took her hand away.
"Goodnight, Nonagesimus."
—
The rest of the week passed by more slowly than Gideon would have thought possible. Nonagesimus left her room rarely, usually only to use the bathroom and only during times when Gideon was preoccupied, so that she just caught fleeting glimpses of her back robes. Even when Gideon left the apartment, she would return and find everything just as she'd left it, with no sign of Nonagesimus having ever ventured outside of her room.
It was a struggle to get her to eat anything at all, and Gideon had finally given up on cooking and resorted to leaving handfuls of ration bars outside of her bedroom, which were the only food that Nonagesimus would eat in its entirety.
When Gideon had just about all she could take of this stagnancy, she went and knocked on Nonagesimus's door one afternoon. "Do you want to go out with me?" Gideon quickly backtracked, "Outside, I mean. Out of the apartment. With me." And, "For sightseeing purposes."
Gideon heard the rustle of fabric, and a minute later Nonagesimus's voice came through the door. "What are the conditions of such a venture?"
"You'll be going incognito. I have something for you."
Gideon waited the eternity it took for Nonagesimus to weigh the pros and cons of opening the door. She did, eventually, crack it open just enough for her to examine whatever Gideon wanted to give her. It was dark in her bedroom, her face paint was little more than a smeared gray mess, and she was unexpectedly bundled in a duvet. With her exhausted, bloodshot eyes and hunched posture, Nonagesimus bore almost no resemblance to the imposing figure who had emerged from the House shuttle.
Gideon's heart strings twisted at the sight, but she said nothing as she passed a paper shopping bag to Nonagesimus. It contained civilian clothing in her size; a simple shirt and trousers in black, along with a dark blue jacket. Proving that beggars could indeed be choosers, she scoffed at the selection.
"Absolutely not."
"Everyone knows that a princess from the Houses is here, but no one knows what you look like. Not dressing like a wizard straight out of the comics will help with that."
Nonagesimus considered this. "And the collar?"
"Stays on, but no cuffs," said Gideon. "And you have to remain within a certain radius of me, or the collar explodes."
"That would not be the worst thing to happen to me this year," sighed Nonagesimus. Gideon had the sinking feeling that she was not making a joke. "Why not? Leave me, while I change."
—
Gideon waited patiently while Nonagesimus bathed for the first time since she'd arrived, spending more than an hour in the bathroom. When she finally emerged in a waft of steam and dressed in her new clothes, Gideon was surprised by how small she seemed and stared for a moment too long at her plain, unadorned face. On the elevator ride down to the garage, Nonagesimus kept herself hidden behind a cloth mask that looped around her ears and a large pair of sunglasses.
The garage was cool and dark, but sunlight and sound spilled into it from the wide entrance. Cars honked and sped by on the street outside, and people walked and chatted on the sidewalks. Winter was coming to an end, and the weather was bright and clear. Gideon started moving towards the light, but was arrested by a tug on her jacket. She turned and found Nonagesimus rooted to the spot in the safety of the shadows, staring past her with wide, alarmed eyes.
"Are you alright?"
"I have never been around so many people," Nonagesimus said quietly. "It is… loud."
Gideon glanced down at where Nonagesimus clutched to her jacket, and she instantly released her, balling her delicate hands into fists. "I was going to have us take public transit, but would you want to go on my motorbike instead? It'll be faster, too."
Nonagesimus wavered, but when another car horn made her jump, she said, "Show it to me."
Gideon took them to the back of the garage, where there was a line of caged storage areas. She unlocked her own, which held her motorcycle and associated supplies. "How did you get around on the Ninth?"
"The traditional method. Walking."
Gideon started to laugh, but stopped herself, glancing at Nonagesimus to make sure it had been a joke. Between the face mask and the sunglasses, it was difficult to tell. Gideon smiled anyway and put a helmet in her hands. "This will help with the noise."
Nonagesimus reluctantly pocketed the mask and glasses, and she allowed Gideon to help her put the helmet on. Once it was snugly in place, the sounds around her all became muffled and distant. She watched through the reflective visor as Gideon rolled her vehicle out of the cage and slung one leg over the seat in a practiced motion, straddling it.
Gideon turned the engine on and motioned for Nonagesimus to sit behind her. "Have you ridden a motorcycle before? You need to hold onto me so you don't fall off."
Nonagesimus hesitated for so long that Gideon nearly thought it was a refusal, but then she copied what Gideon did and threw a leg over the seat. She struggled only slightly with her height, and a pair of hesitant hands hovered near Gideon's hips before awkwardly holding onto her belt.
Gideon put her own helmet on and took them slowly out of the garage and onto the street. Nonagesimus seemed to realize immediately that holding onto a belt would likely not be enough to keep her from dying in a traffic accident, and she grabbed more firmly onto Gideon's hips. Encouraged by this, Gideon sped up a little and plotted a route in her head with the streets that were likely to be the least busy. As they were turning off the main road, a car swerved around them, its driver honking incessantly.
"Fucking shit," hissed Nonagesimus, her voice crackling through the helmet's intercom. Gideon laughed, which startled her again.
"Sorry, forgot about the comms. I haven't had anyone ride with me in a while. Let me know if you need a break, but we'll get there pretty quick."
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet."
—
As the sun began to set, Gideon drove them out of the city and into the desert. She continued on past the dilapidated buildings until the road was more sand than concrete, and parked her bike in the middle of the would-be street. After the engine was off and they removed their helmets, the abrupt silence was nearly overwhelming. Nights in the desert were remarkably cold and they were the only two people out on the barren stretch of land.
"If you have plans for homicide, could you hurry it along? I would be loath to discover that you have interrupted my slow decay for nothing," said Nonagesimus morosely. She had put the mask and sunglasses back on even though they were alone.
"You have such a way with words," said Gideon. "Come on, the sacrificial blood altar won't wait all day!"
Gideon climbed the decaying staircase of a building that had partially sunk into the sand and was missing most of its walls. Nonagesimus surprised her by following without further complaint, and even accepted the offer of Gideon's hand to help steady her at certain points. They went up to what might have been the fifth floor, where the staircase capped out. The roof was completely gone and from here they had a view of the desert for miles and miles, all the way to where the sun had begun to sink beyond the horizon.
Gideon sat down at the edge of the crumbling platform, letting her legs dangle in open air, and chivalrously brushed off the concrete next to her before offering the spot to Nonagesimus, who sat primly on her knees with her hands in her lap. They sat in silence except for the occasional sound of the sand shifting in the breeze, and together they watched the sunset. When the sky was stained purple with the memory of the sun and the stars began to shine, Gideon finally spoke.
"You're not like I thought you'd be."
Nonagesimus kept her eyes on the horizon. "Do I disappoint you, honored wife?"
Gideon was starting to think that 'honored wife' was a placeholder for 'fucking asshole' or something similar. "Not at all. I think more girls should aspire to be gremlins when they grow up."
"You also differ from my expectations," admitted Nonagesimus. Gideon waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't. "Do you frequent this place often?"
"Not really. Usually just when I'm having a fantastically shitty day, you know? It's nice to be away from everything for a bit."
"What diversions are available in such a place?"
"You're doin' it. Watch the sunset, pick out constellations, scream into the void."
Nonagesimus thought about this. She slowly raised herself onto her feet and stood there, surveying the stars and the sand and the vast emptiness between them. She carefully removed her mask and sunglasses, pocketing them in her jacket, and Gideon was struck all over again by how exhausted she looked. Then, she opened her mouth and screamed.
The cry that emerged from her throat pierced the silence with a long, eerie shriek that sent chills over Gideon's skin and made her stomach twist. It was the desperate, strangled howl of a dying animal. It was the unearthly wail of a banshee that had never known rest. When Nonagesimus finally expended all of the air from her lungs, she staggered and took in a shuddering breath before starting all over again, this time through choking sobs as tears rolled down her cheeks. She clutched at her arms, nails clawing at the fabric of the jacket, struggling to hold herself upright as she trembled under the weight of her own immeasurable grief.
When Nonagesimus stumbled too close to the ledge, Gideon quickly stood and reached out to steady her. As soon as she touched her arm, Nonagesimus rounded on her with eyes like a feral creature and charged at her. She pounded her fists on Gideon's arms and chest with all the violence she could muster, still screaming, still sobbing. Not knowing what else to do, Gideon grabbed onto one of those slender wrists and pulled her close, wrapping her arms around Nonagesimus and squeezing her to her chest. She thrashed and writhed, her arms trapped in Gideon's unyielding embrace, until her knees buckled and her screams dissolved into heaving, shaking sobs. Gideon lowered them both onto the concrete, and she held Nonagesimus until the last of her rage was spent and her body became as limp and quiet as a ragdoll.
Gideon slackened her hold on Nonagesimus but kept her bundled in her arms. She ran a hand absently over her short black hair, seeking to comfort, and was surprised to find that she was trembling as well. Nonagesimus did not reach for her in turn, but she allowed herself to be held as her breathing evened out. The last of the sun's colors faded and the two of them were soon bathed in starlight.
Nonagesimus shifted slightly in Gideon's arms so that she could see the sky. Weakly, and with a very scratchy voice, she asked, "Can you see the Nine Houses from here?"
"Yeah." Gideon ran her hand once more over Nonagesimus's hair before she lifted her arm and pointed at a bright cluster in the sky.
"There, see that cloudy purple mess? That's Dominicus shining in the middle."
Nonagesimus looked at it and made a soft sound. "Thank you. For bringing me here."
There was a lump in Gideon's throat, so she nodded. After a while, she said, "I'll get you a map of the city, and you can pick where we go next time."
"Will I ever be allowed out by myself?"
"Eventually. Everyone is still getting used to you, but the shock and awe will wear off."
"Will it?"
"They got used to me."
"That's different. You were raised among the Blood of Eden. And you're not a necromancer."
"True, but I am still the offspring of the worst necromancer who ever necro'ed. When I was a kid, I survived an astonishing amount of assassination attempts. Also, my mom was really good at killing people." Gideon bit her tongue and steered the conversation away from her mother. "Plus, you know, we've worked with necromancers before, so there's precedent for it. Things will change for the better, Nonagesimus. I promise."
Gideon held her hand in front of Nonagesimus with the last finger extended away from the rest. They both waited in anticipation, but nothing happened.
"What are you doing?" Nonagesimus asked at last.
"A pinky swear. It's an oath of the highest order, even better than a blood pact."
"This is stupid," muttered Nonagesimus. But Gideon's hand continued to hover in front of her, so she timidly raised her own and mirrored her. Gideon's finger curled around hers, linking them together briefly.
"Now I'm oath-bound to cheer you up," said Gideon decidedly.
Nonagesimus's mouth twitched and made what could have been the shadow of a smile, had it not been so sad. "I've never been cheery in my life."
"Really? I couldn't tell."
"Ah, sarcasm. The coward's lie."
"So you do have a sense of humor! I was beginning to doubt."
"The fact that I do not find you very humorous says more about you than it does about me."
"What I'm hearing is, you think I'm kind of funny." Gideon rubbed her hands over Nonagesimus's arms and she shivered. "It's getting cold. We should head back soon."
Nonagesimus took a deep breath and Gideon felt the movement of her ribs against her own. "Could we stay for just a little longer?"
"...Yeah. As long as you want."