Fic: Prometheus
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vorkosiganTitle: Prometheus
Author: Tel
Fandom: Vorkosigan Saga/Honorverse
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of their respective creators. This is an unlicensed parody.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: equal opportunity satanic harlotry
Genre: quasi-epic poetrybookchan as part of the help_haiti auction. Thanks go to philomytha , primary beta, and to Jess and John Lennard, who looked over earlier drafts. Don't take this one too seriously, folks :)
There was a man, once, who dared to court the Salamander.
He was a prince of the silent depths, an exile from his people,
a fierce man, with eyes full of laughter and a heart full of secrets.
He snared her in the mirrorlands, but she snared him in return.
She was war-scarred, implacable, unconquerable,
and he had never seen her like in all his wanderings.
He approached her in fascination, without fear.
He, too, was a man. She, too, a woman.
Some forget this.
'Come with me,' she said, for the way was perilous.
Time curved in on itself and the stars were lies.
He had walked the secret paths between worlds.
She had walked too long alone.
'Lady,' he said, 'all things have their price.'
Yet he came tamely,
entering into her service
as knight or fool. Either. Both.
And he kissed her hand. That, he could reach.
Passionate, infuriating -- he was never otherwise.
Who else would dare to seek her love?
His lady lived where the blaze was hottest,
phoenix blooms of plasma trailing in her wake,
death in her eyes, blood on her sword,
favored of fate, champion of God.
But each is tested, she not least,
and she was thrown down before her foes,
stripped and starved, marked for slaughter,
yet even naked in the dark they feared her name.
The captive in war is like the nation enslaved,
beloved of the Son, who hears all cries for justice.
On the last day, surely, each will be answered.
She passed beyond the knowledge of her people
until that hour hope died.
No quiet prayer escaped her lover's lips.
He snarled at the far stars,
and paced the measure of her days alone.
But each is tested, he not least,
and in the black of night the devil came to him,
dark and gleaming, neither man nor woman.
Naismith smiled, for they knew one another of old.
'You are far from home, mirrorchild,'
it said, 'and the fire you sought is gone.
Would you avenge her? Would you burn
ten thousand worlds and more to ash?
Would you forget her? There is love and life aplenty
amid the stars beyond the veil
Ask what you wish of me. You know my power.'
'You again?' the young lord asked
as an inward smile crossed his face.
The devil often bargains. Sometimes it doesn't win.
His smile grew grim. It marks a man
to call upon hell's strength.
'I have lost something very dear to me," he said
as he cut his thumb on his blade.
'I would have her back.'
'My price is known,' the devil said,
'and you will not escape me twice.
Make your pledge now.'
'Aye,' he whispered. Scarlet droplet hissed to flame
sealing forever that most fatal of bargains.
He coiled on himself,
for that sundering is agony beyond hope,
even for one such as he
who never did fear Tester or hell.
It drew close to him,
drawing his head to its breast,
marking his forehead with its lips.
*'Everything has a price, proud one.
Even you. Yet do not be disheartened,
for I am generous to those
that are my servants.'
The devil spun away
and Naismith's eyes followed
the sway of its hips
looking up, at last, to meet its eyes.
It laughed at him. The air shimmered.
He saw himself reflected,
hunched and ill-formed in body,
spirit at last mirroring flesh.
Its eyes danced in cruel humor.
'You are right to be bitter at that creator
who twisted you before birth,
who made you the semblance of a man.
See, I will make you whole!'
The seeming stirred as it spoke,
forced by fell power to new form:
a tall lord, formidable and stern.
At his left hand a throng of foes
lay bound and prostrate. At his right
there was a woman.
As she rose to her feet the vision faded.
She alone remained, giving him
the smallest of smiles. Her eyes were empty.
'Illusion,' Naismith whispered,
his expression now grown cold.
She turned from him and disappeared.
He growled in his throat.
'She's gone to Hell,' the devil said
'You know this to be true.
Her martyr's crown is waiting,
the Tester's signed her doom.
No angel will protect her now, no ram in thicket's caught
to ransom her from Ransom's hand,
nor can her armsmen stop
that sordid queen of murderers who's given the command
to sacrifice her on the altar of the common man.'
'I'm no angel,' Naismith said. 'I love her more than they.
God's vengeance is less sure than mine. Who dares take her away?
They'll find no haven from my wrath wherever they might dwell.'
His stare fixed on the devil then.
'So. Tell me of Hell.'
A tiny smirk played on its lips. 'I thought you'd want to know.
Hell's a hidden prison built in malice long ago
to pen all Haven's fiercest foes -- a million, aye, and more.1
None there wins his freedom without giving up his soul.
A legion waits upon the ground, a minefield spans the air.
Half the ships of Haven lurk between that place and here.'
'I have no fear,' he said to it,
'of mines or ships or men.'
'That's as may be,' the devil smiled. 'Still, wariness is wise.
The many roads to Hell are watched by countless sensor eyes.
It's not a world that any man can on his own assail.
But with my power at your command, how can you ever fail?
The ghostly barques of Tartarus will put your foes to flight.
Their wickedness's no match for it that truly rules the night!'
The young man's eyebrows slowly rose, his smile sharp and thin.
'I see no need for crudeness here. There's many ways to win.
Why should I trust my fortunes to a navy of the damned?
I know you well, I'm sure you have
some other secret plan.
I'm not here to run your errands or to work the devil's will.
I still recall your promise. That pact you must fulfill.'
It chuckled then, and brushed his brow where it had laid its kiss,
awakening wrath and lust together,
and sharp-eyed avarice.
'Child, you were born to write your name upon the stars,
to harry bright imperiums2 and rove the outer dark.
I like your wit, I like your style, and nothing I'll withhold
that's mine to give. How would you like
all Haven for your own?
Her captors bore me, I'm afraid. It's time for something new!
They'll pay for what in arrogance they thought to take from you.
I give them all into your hands and all that's theirs as well,
for like you all that nation is pledged solemnly to hell.
I am the one who formed them out of idle godless dross,
who drives them onward after each and every brutal loss.
Seize what's yours and take what feudal tribute they will bring:
the renown of a conqueror, the mantle of a king,
the sword to deal out justice upon all those who transgress,
the proud and ruined lady who now only hopes for death.
Unfurl your banner. Let them fear the name Vorkosigan.
Then I will give you Honor. You, alone of men.'
Silence. His chin rose, face
without expression.
'And will she love me, lord of hell,
after her enemies lie dead at my feet,
after I have conquered all that mad republic and her as well?'
The devil smiled, bright eyes all innocence.
'How could she not?'
Despite himself --
his thirst for glory kindled at its words,
his secret envy of his love, his wish to own her soul.
He never had been pleased with being seen as less than she,
her whim, her passing fancy, a beggar at her door.
Desires warred within him as he clenched his scar-crossed hands,
wrestling as ever with the baser parts of man.
He closed his eyes, let out a breath.
'I am not so ambitious.'
'I will ask only for her love, the least
of what you have offered.
Nothing less and yet no more.
For her to be returned to me
as lady and as bride.
Is such a thing beyond your art?'
The devil stood silent
knowing the trap at last.
Outside, a heavy rain began to fall.
Naismith threw back his head and laughed aloud,
his eyes blazing in wild and wicked glee,
his voice rising in sorcerer's cadence.
'Did you think me unaware of ancient holy law?'
His grin grew savage as he spoke. 'Your plan, it has a flaw.
Three things the devil is forbid to offer on this soil,
The dead reborn, a series win, and love of mortal woman!
You've made your bargain, old one, one you cannot ever keep
and as you sought to bind me so you bind yourself to me!
I name you, I deny your power, and demand hell's forfeit now!'
He sketched a sigil on the air and spoke its dreaded name.
It spun, his destruction written in its eyes.
The geas settled on it, for God holds all to oath.
the deathless Liar too, proudest of fools.
It shed its shape like water as it sought to shed his curse,
every aspect terrible and pregnant with its hate.
Hound first, then an angel
with bound and broken wings,
dragon, snake, and Reverend -- hermaphrodite again.
'You are dust, little man,'
it said, 'and I will eat your bones before the end.
As you seek to hold evil, so
you will take it into your heart.
No escape from it you will find
and all your good intentions
will be like the dead and heavy soil,
cursed unto the eighth generation,
bearing no clean fruit.
Release me and it will be better for you.'
His answering smile was merciless. He knew that he had won;
that it had bound itself by bonds not easily undone.
'Enough,' he said, and silenced it. 'This is my command:
that you will listen and obey and aid me in my plan.
I have the means to save her, the weapons and the will,
but till I know the way I cannot keep them from the kill.
I'll take a threefold forfeit now and then I'll set you free.
My lady dies in seven days. Bring me there in three.
Bewilder all those in my way -- I'm sure they all are yours!
Let no man know my passage till my blade is at his throat.
Their arrogance has damned them, their empty boasts as well.
They're fools to say that none can ever break the gates of Hell!'
'Follow if you dare,' it said and led him into darkness
down the shadowy roads of the devil's own country.
Hell awaited, thousand-eyed and ravenous,
devourer of hope, fanged with grasers.
He descended in vengeance, in fire and hard gamma.
shattering a city from the skies and turning
the whole world upside-down.
On his lips was the spell that could compel
truth from any tongue, the Liar's gift from long ago.
The devil smiled at him, eyes like mirrors,
taking the dead as its well-earned tithe.
He shuddered and walked apart from his people
to an empty place where his mind could be still.
'The wages of sin are death,' it said.
'Was not justice done?
It was you who brought me here
and my power that did this.
Do you still think you can pluck her from the sky?
Do you still think your own strength will suffice?
You have come to the end of yourself.
Submit. I will aid you in conquering death.
You will, die, else, and her with you.'
He turned away, looking up
at the starlit night.
'Oh, she'll escape Hell.'
A sly glance back.
'We both will.'
Its eyes sparked. It stretched its arms,
fetters falling loose at its feet.
'I tell you this, son of man.
There are many roads to damnation.
The one you are on now is longer,
but no less sure.'
He whirled, hot denial on his lips.
It vanished in a swirl of ash
and the echo of a smirk.
Beyond the horizon, a ship appeared
with sails of woven space,
unsuspecting.
It swam through the dark and shed
its shifting armor as it slid
down the throat of the minefield,
never noticing his tiny craft as it slipped above its bow,
for lidar never betrayed him
if he did not wish it.
Plasma fire seethed across its battlecruiser rings.
It saw nothing after that,
and its queen suspected only treason.
They met, three in the hallway:
the knight in armor,
the prisoner and her keeper;
she a gaunt, haunted shadow.
He did not recognize her as he raised his weapon,
only his foe.
Guards dived between them, shots were fired:
a maiming hail of shattered steel.
She had a long way to fall.
The victory was swift and unexpected,
as the hulk they left behind was devoured by Hell.3
He paid it no heed as he sat beside her,
willing her to wake,
knowing his hand had done this to her,
knowing some scars never heal.
When her eye opened, she wondered that he was there
He whispered, 'Did you miss me?'
as she took his offered hand,
'It was bravely done,' she said.
'Yes,' he said smugly. 'I thought so.'
A flinty gaze. 'We'll work on your marksmanship.'
He winced.
She stood with difficulty and went out,
a cloud of armsmen surrounding her,
surveying the bombed base, balancing on the brink of riot.
'Who's in command here?' she asked suddenly.
His brows rose. 'Me. You should rest.
We're leaving in the morning.'
'No,' she said. 'I don't think so.
These are my people in the camps,
my kin and my allies,
and the enemies of my enemies.
They had no hope, but you gave them hope.
I know why I am here, now,
for no ordeal is without reason,
and the greatest of Tests are the greatest of gifts.
I will give them more than hope.'
'I came for you, not them,' he said
faltering at her fierce look
'Lady, I have one ship. I'd need a thousand.'
She stared up at the sky, cradling the dead ruin of her arm
'That can be arranged. Leave me. Go.'
'You're insane.' he growled. 'I will not leave you behind.
You can't think your purpose is to die here!
I've spent more than blood to get here and I won't leave here alone,
and I swear I will stun you if you cross me.
Come with me. Please. We'll call your men to war,
and bring back a fleet these skies have never seen.
They'll listen to your word the way they won't listen to me,
and none is such a fool as to deny you.'
'Are you?' she asked, and left him there.
He seethed but followed after,
two steps behind, beneath notice.
She blinked in the sunlight and faced
the weight of her responsibilities,
not yet willing to flee into the night.
The faces of the lost looked up at her,
hers, now, a charge she could not fail.
'Is there a place for us, between you and your duty?'
he asked late that evening.
'Do I matter at all?'
'This is who I am,' she said. 'You knew that
when you agreed to serve me. I know you love me
and there is a place for you in my heart.
But I am Steadholder and I am Admiral and you are
my lover, not my lord.'
He nodded. 'If I asked you to marry me...
what would you say?'
'When you ask,' she said, 'I will tell you.'
The worlds turned and the weeks passed,
as a captured people sought their freedom.
She left with him, but did not forget them
fulfilling every promise made.
At last he asked and she made her answer
taking his hand in a Sphinxian hall.
He swore there, under the eyes of God
to love Honor, and obey.
He raised up her daughters, then, and fathered a son,
yet she was a fire no hearth could hold
and no heart keep for his own.
The years passed, and the stars called
and more often than not she was gone, without word or letter,
out in the silence of space, weeks from nowhere.
He was never patient, though his word yet bound him.
It knew this, having never left.
'You are a prince among your kind,' it said to him.
'Have you forgotten? A lord of ships and men.
How much of yourself have you spent here,
for what reward?'
'I have won the freedom of a great lady,' he answered.
'Is there a higher cause?'
Its laughter rang out, clear as a bell.
'You never wanted her to be free.
You wanted her to be yours.
An empty victory, manling.'
He snarled. It spun, dodging
a sign of banishment.
'You have power over men and demons, and more cunning than I.
Yet in her shadow you are nothing, for she is glorious beyond worlds.
Did you think any man could be her equal?'
It met his gaze and he was silent, for this taunt struck true.
'You have promised yourself to your lord, and to your lady, and to me,
Now all comes due. A great destiny shadows her
that you call wife. You may aid her if you will.
She is not yours, yet with your help
no one will ever stand against her.
You will have love and life together,
and in a thousand years they will not forget her.
But who will remember you,
who betrayed family, father, world?'
His eyes narrowed. 'I have not betrayed who I am.'
'Her wars will eat your people, and your honor,
for strife respects no borders in the end.
Your world calls. Defend it or it will fall,
with all its brothers. Earth's-vassal, they will call it
as the dogs of Sol gnaw on its remnants.
Your people were slaves once. Will you sit by
and hand them to your foes? You swore an oath.
Is your word worth as little as
your promise once to me?'
'You have no claim on me,' Lord Naismith said
in cold dismissal.
'Nor will I risk myself again.'
Its head tilted, and it smiled.
'I have much to offer.'
Gently, he shook his head,
and no devil's art hid its flash of rage. 'So be it.
If you will not serve me, make your choice -
yet know I keep all traitors for my own.'
He stared into space,
his mind's eye perhaps seeing
a future in chaos, a daughter without a home.
A minute passed, no more.
He looked up.
Then Naismith smiled a strange smile,
and he chose lightly, for he had no fear of God or man...
and most foolishly of all, he had no fear of his wife.
He saw the storm coming down on her, alone at the breach,
and he picked up her son,
and he walked away.
But all things spin full circle.
And the sword of the Protector is the sword of God.
--Liz
==========================================
"Please tell me she didn't publish that."
-- Admiral Harrington
"Hah. Naismith didn't sell his soul to the devil. He sold his firstborn."
-- Admiral Trenis
1Over the lifetime of the camp, anyway. The devil scorns precise figures.
2The excessively pedantic may instead read 'imperia'.
3More precisely, Tepes missed its orbital insertion due to a combination of sensor failure and stuff blowing up and ended up in the minefield. The Hades operation was not nearly as straightforward as described either here or in Short Victorious Vor, and certainly had its hairy moments. Unfortunately, Horace Harkness's part in it all has been lost to history.
Faust ------------------------------------------------------------ Miles Vorkosigan
'So... hm. How 'bout I serve you on Earth and you serve me in hell?'
Helen of Troy ------------------------------------------------ Honor Harrington
'What this epic needs is a six-hundred-line treatise on Mycenaean naval tactics.'
Mephistopheles ---------------------------------------------- Bel Thorne
'I'm still vainly hoping for a threesome here...'
Author: Tel
Fandom: Vorkosigan Saga/Honorverse
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of their respective creators. This is an unlicensed parody.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: equal opportunity satanic harlotry
Genre: quasi-epic poetry
Summary: Short Victorious Vor
...the Grayson version.
In verse. Length: 409 lines
Author's note: This was written for...the Grayson version.
In verse.
bookchan as part of the help_haiti auction. Thanks go to philomytha , primary beta, and to Jess and John Lennard, who looked over earlier drafts. Don't take this one too seriously, folks :)There was a man, once, who dared to court the Salamander.
He was a prince of the silent depths, an exile from his people,
a fierce man, with eyes full of laughter and a heart full of secrets.
He snared her in the mirrorlands, but she snared him in return.
She was war-scarred, implacable, unconquerable,
and he had never seen her like in all his wanderings.
He approached her in fascination, without fear.
He, too, was a man. She, too, a woman.
Some forget this.
'Come with me,' she said, for the way was perilous.
Time curved in on itself and the stars were lies.
He had walked the secret paths between worlds.
She had walked too long alone.
'Lady,' he said, 'all things have their price.'
Yet he came tamely,
entering into her service
as knight or fool. Either. Both.
And he kissed her hand. That, he could reach.
Passionate, infuriating -- he was never otherwise.
Who else would dare to seek her love?
His lady lived where the blaze was hottest,
phoenix blooms of plasma trailing in her wake,
death in her eyes, blood on her sword,
favored of fate, champion of God.
But each is tested, she not least,
and she was thrown down before her foes,
stripped and starved, marked for slaughter,
yet even naked in the dark they feared her name.
The captive in war is like the nation enslaved,
beloved of the Son, who hears all cries for justice.
On the last day, surely, each will be answered.
She passed beyond the knowledge of her people
until that hour hope died.
No quiet prayer escaped her lover's lips.
He snarled at the far stars,
and paced the measure of her days alone.
But each is tested, he not least,
and in the black of night the devil came to him,
dark and gleaming, neither man nor woman.
Naismith smiled, for they knew one another of old.
'You are far from home, mirrorchild,'
it said, 'and the fire you sought is gone.
Would you avenge her? Would you burn
ten thousand worlds and more to ash?
Would you forget her? There is love and life aplenty
amid the stars beyond the veil
Ask what you wish of me. You know my power.'
'You again?' the young lord asked
as an inward smile crossed his face.
The devil often bargains. Sometimes it doesn't win.
His smile grew grim. It marks a man
to call upon hell's strength.
'I have lost something very dear to me," he said
as he cut his thumb on his blade.
'I would have her back.'
'My price is known,' the devil said,
'and you will not escape me twice.
Make your pledge now.'
'Aye,' he whispered. Scarlet droplet hissed to flame
sealing forever that most fatal of bargains.
He coiled on himself,
for that sundering is agony beyond hope,
even for one such as he
who never did fear Tester or hell.
It drew close to him,
drawing his head to its breast,
marking his forehead with its lips.
*'Everything has a price, proud one.
Even you. Yet do not be disheartened,
for I am generous to those
that are my servants.'
The devil spun away
and Naismith's eyes followed
the sway of its hips
looking up, at last, to meet its eyes.
It laughed at him. The air shimmered.
He saw himself reflected,
hunched and ill-formed in body,
spirit at last mirroring flesh.
Its eyes danced in cruel humor.
'You are right to be bitter at that creator
who twisted you before birth,
who made you the semblance of a man.
See, I will make you whole!'
The seeming stirred as it spoke,
forced by fell power to new form:
a tall lord, formidable and stern.
At his left hand a throng of foes
lay bound and prostrate. At his right
there was a woman.
As she rose to her feet the vision faded.
She alone remained, giving him
the smallest of smiles. Her eyes were empty.
'Illusion,' Naismith whispered,
his expression now grown cold.
She turned from him and disappeared.
He growled in his throat.
'She's gone to Hell,' the devil said
'You know this to be true.
Her martyr's crown is waiting,
the Tester's signed her doom.
No angel will protect her now, no ram in thicket's caught
to ransom her from Ransom's hand,
nor can her armsmen stop
that sordid queen of murderers who's given the command
to sacrifice her on the altar of the common man.'
'I'm no angel,' Naismith said. 'I love her more than they.
God's vengeance is less sure than mine. Who dares take her away?
They'll find no haven from my wrath wherever they might dwell.'
His stare fixed on the devil then.
'So. Tell me of Hell.'
A tiny smirk played on its lips. 'I thought you'd want to know.
Hell's a hidden prison built in malice long ago
to pen all Haven's fiercest foes -- a million, aye, and more.1
None there wins his freedom without giving up his soul.
A legion waits upon the ground, a minefield spans the air.
Half the ships of Haven lurk between that place and here.'
'I have no fear,' he said to it,
'of mines or ships or men.'
'That's as may be,' the devil smiled. 'Still, wariness is wise.
The many roads to Hell are watched by countless sensor eyes.
It's not a world that any man can on his own assail.
But with my power at your command, how can you ever fail?
The ghostly barques of Tartarus will put your foes to flight.
Their wickedness's no match for it that truly rules the night!'
The young man's eyebrows slowly rose, his smile sharp and thin.
'I see no need for crudeness here. There's many ways to win.
Why should I trust my fortunes to a navy of the damned?
I know you well, I'm sure you have
some other secret plan.
I'm not here to run your errands or to work the devil's will.
I still recall your promise. That pact you must fulfill.'
It chuckled then, and brushed his brow where it had laid its kiss,
awakening wrath and lust together,
and sharp-eyed avarice.
'Child, you were born to write your name upon the stars,
to harry bright imperiums2 and rove the outer dark.
I like your wit, I like your style, and nothing I'll withhold
that's mine to give. How would you like
all Haven for your own?
Her captors bore me, I'm afraid. It's time for something new!
They'll pay for what in arrogance they thought to take from you.
I give them all into your hands and all that's theirs as well,
for like you all that nation is pledged solemnly to hell.
I am the one who formed them out of idle godless dross,
who drives them onward after each and every brutal loss.
Seize what's yours and take what feudal tribute they will bring:
the renown of a conqueror, the mantle of a king,
the sword to deal out justice upon all those who transgress,
the proud and ruined lady who now only hopes for death.
Unfurl your banner. Let them fear the name Vorkosigan.
Then I will give you Honor. You, alone of men.'
Silence. His chin rose, face
without expression.
'And will she love me, lord of hell,
after her enemies lie dead at my feet,
after I have conquered all that mad republic and her as well?'
The devil smiled, bright eyes all innocence.
'How could she not?'
Despite himself --
his thirst for glory kindled at its words,
his secret envy of his love, his wish to own her soul.
He never had been pleased with being seen as less than she,
her whim, her passing fancy, a beggar at her door.
Desires warred within him as he clenched his scar-crossed hands,
wrestling as ever with the baser parts of man.
He closed his eyes, let out a breath.
'I am not so ambitious.'
'I will ask only for her love, the least
of what you have offered.
Nothing less and yet no more.
For her to be returned to me
as lady and as bride.
Is such a thing beyond your art?'
The devil stood silent
knowing the trap at last.
Outside, a heavy rain began to fall.
Naismith threw back his head and laughed aloud,
his eyes blazing in wild and wicked glee,
his voice rising in sorcerer's cadence.
'Did you think me unaware of ancient holy law?'
His grin grew savage as he spoke. 'Your plan, it has a flaw.
Three things the devil is forbid to offer on this soil,
The dead reborn, a series win, and love of mortal woman!
You've made your bargain, old one, one you cannot ever keep
and as you sought to bind me so you bind yourself to me!
I name you, I deny your power, and demand hell's forfeit now!'
He sketched a sigil on the air and spoke its dreaded name.
It spun, his destruction written in its eyes.
The geas settled on it, for God holds all to oath.
the deathless Liar too, proudest of fools.
It shed its shape like water as it sought to shed his curse,
every aspect terrible and pregnant with its hate.
Hound first, then an angel
with bound and broken wings,
dragon, snake, and Reverend -- hermaphrodite again.
'You are dust, little man,'
it said, 'and I will eat your bones before the end.
As you seek to hold evil, so
you will take it into your heart.
No escape from it you will find
and all your good intentions
will be like the dead and heavy soil,
cursed unto the eighth generation,
bearing no clean fruit.
Release me and it will be better for you.'
His answering smile was merciless. He knew that he had won;
that it had bound itself by bonds not easily undone.
'Enough,' he said, and silenced it. 'This is my command:
that you will listen and obey and aid me in my plan.
I have the means to save her, the weapons and the will,
but till I know the way I cannot keep them from the kill.
I'll take a threefold forfeit now and then I'll set you free.
My lady dies in seven days. Bring me there in three.
Bewilder all those in my way -- I'm sure they all are yours!
Let no man know my passage till my blade is at his throat.
Their arrogance has damned them, their empty boasts as well.
They're fools to say that none can ever break the gates of Hell!'
'Follow if you dare,' it said and led him into darkness
down the shadowy roads of the devil's own country.
Hell awaited, thousand-eyed and ravenous,
devourer of hope, fanged with grasers.
He descended in vengeance, in fire and hard gamma.
shattering a city from the skies and turning
the whole world upside-down.
On his lips was the spell that could compel
truth from any tongue, the Liar's gift from long ago.
The devil smiled at him, eyes like mirrors,
taking the dead as its well-earned tithe.
He shuddered and walked apart from his people
to an empty place where his mind could be still.
'The wages of sin are death,' it said.
'Was not justice done?
It was you who brought me here
and my power that did this.
Do you still think you can pluck her from the sky?
Do you still think your own strength will suffice?
You have come to the end of yourself.
Submit. I will aid you in conquering death.
You will, die, else, and her with you.'
He turned away, looking up
at the starlit night.
'Oh, she'll escape Hell.'
A sly glance back.
'We both will.'
Its eyes sparked. It stretched its arms,
fetters falling loose at its feet.
'I tell you this, son of man.
There are many roads to damnation.
The one you are on now is longer,
but no less sure.'
He whirled, hot denial on his lips.
It vanished in a swirl of ash
and the echo of a smirk.
Beyond the horizon, a ship appeared
with sails of woven space,
unsuspecting.
It swam through the dark and shed
its shifting armor as it slid
down the throat of the minefield,
never noticing his tiny craft as it slipped above its bow,
for lidar never betrayed him
if he did not wish it.
Plasma fire seethed across its battlecruiser rings.
It saw nothing after that,
and its queen suspected only treason.
They met, three in the hallway:
the knight in armor,
the prisoner and her keeper;
she a gaunt, haunted shadow.
He did not recognize her as he raised his weapon,
only his foe.
Guards dived between them, shots were fired:
a maiming hail of shattered steel.
She had a long way to fall.
The victory was swift and unexpected,
as the hulk they left behind was devoured by Hell.3
He paid it no heed as he sat beside her,
willing her to wake,
knowing his hand had done this to her,
knowing some scars never heal.
When her eye opened, she wondered that he was there
He whispered, 'Did you miss me?'
as she took his offered hand,
'It was bravely done,' she said.
'Yes,' he said smugly. 'I thought so.'
A flinty gaze. 'We'll work on your marksmanship.'
He winced.
She stood with difficulty and went out,
a cloud of armsmen surrounding her,
surveying the bombed base, balancing on the brink of riot.
'Who's in command here?' she asked suddenly.
His brows rose. 'Me. You should rest.
We're leaving in the morning.'
'No,' she said. 'I don't think so.
These are my people in the camps,
my kin and my allies,
and the enemies of my enemies.
They had no hope, but you gave them hope.
I know why I am here, now,
for no ordeal is without reason,
and the greatest of Tests are the greatest of gifts.
I will give them more than hope.'
'I came for you, not them,' he said
faltering at her fierce look
'Lady, I have one ship. I'd need a thousand.'
She stared up at the sky, cradling the dead ruin of her arm
'That can be arranged. Leave me. Go.'
'You're insane.' he growled. 'I will not leave you behind.
You can't think your purpose is to die here!
I've spent more than blood to get here and I won't leave here alone,
and I swear I will stun you if you cross me.
Come with me. Please. We'll call your men to war,
and bring back a fleet these skies have never seen.
They'll listen to your word the way they won't listen to me,
and none is such a fool as to deny you.'
'Are you?' she asked, and left him there.
He seethed but followed after,
two steps behind, beneath notice.
She blinked in the sunlight and faced
the weight of her responsibilities,
not yet willing to flee into the night.
The faces of the lost looked up at her,
hers, now, a charge she could not fail.
'Is there a place for us, between you and your duty?'
he asked late that evening.
'Do I matter at all?'
'This is who I am,' she said. 'You knew that
when you agreed to serve me. I know you love me
and there is a place for you in my heart.
But I am Steadholder and I am Admiral and you are
my lover, not my lord.'
He nodded. 'If I asked you to marry me...
what would you say?'
'When you ask,' she said, 'I will tell you.'
The worlds turned and the weeks passed,
as a captured people sought their freedom.
She left with him, but did not forget them
fulfilling every promise made.
At last he asked and she made her answer
taking his hand in a Sphinxian hall.
He swore there, under the eyes of God
to love Honor, and obey.
He raised up her daughters, then, and fathered a son,
yet she was a fire no hearth could hold
and no heart keep for his own.
The years passed, and the stars called
and more often than not she was gone, without word or letter,
out in the silence of space, weeks from nowhere.
He was never patient, though his word yet bound him.
It knew this, having never left.
'You are a prince among your kind,' it said to him.
'Have you forgotten? A lord of ships and men.
How much of yourself have you spent here,
for what reward?'
'I have won the freedom of a great lady,' he answered.
'Is there a higher cause?'
Its laughter rang out, clear as a bell.
'You never wanted her to be free.
You wanted her to be yours.
An empty victory, manling.'
He snarled. It spun, dodging
a sign of banishment.
'You have power over men and demons, and more cunning than I.
Yet in her shadow you are nothing, for she is glorious beyond worlds.
Did you think any man could be her equal?'
It met his gaze and he was silent, for this taunt struck true.
'You have promised yourself to your lord, and to your lady, and to me,
Now all comes due. A great destiny shadows her
that you call wife. You may aid her if you will.
She is not yours, yet with your help
no one will ever stand against her.
You will have love and life together,
and in a thousand years they will not forget her.
But who will remember you,
who betrayed family, father, world?'
His eyes narrowed. 'I have not betrayed who I am.'
'Her wars will eat your people, and your honor,
for strife respects no borders in the end.
Your world calls. Defend it or it will fall,
with all its brothers. Earth's-vassal, they will call it
as the dogs of Sol gnaw on its remnants.
Your people were slaves once. Will you sit by
and hand them to your foes? You swore an oath.
Is your word worth as little as
your promise once to me?'
'You have no claim on me,' Lord Naismith said
in cold dismissal.
'Nor will I risk myself again.'
Its head tilted, and it smiled.
'I have much to offer.'
Gently, he shook his head,
and no devil's art hid its flash of rage. 'So be it.
If you will not serve me, make your choice -
yet know I keep all traitors for my own.'
He stared into space,
his mind's eye perhaps seeing
a future in chaos, a daughter without a home.
A minute passed, no more.
He looked up.
Then Naismith smiled a strange smile,
and he chose lightly, for he had no fear of God or man...
and most foolishly of all, he had no fear of his wife.
He saw the storm coming down on her, alone at the breach,
and he picked up her son,
and he walked away.
But all things spin full circle.
And the sword of the Protector is the sword of God.
--Liz
==========================================
"Please tell me she didn't publish that."
-- Admiral Harrington
"Hah. Naismith didn't sell his soul to the devil. He sold his firstborn."
-- Admiral Trenis
1Over the lifetime of the camp, anyway. The devil scorns precise figures.
2The excessively pedantic may instead read 'imperia'.
3More precisely, Tepes missed its orbital insertion due to a combination of sensor failure and stuff blowing up and ended up in the minefield. The Hades operation was not nearly as straightforward as described either here or in Short Victorious Vor, and certainly had its hairy moments. Unfortunately, Horace Harkness's part in it all has been lost to history.
Faust ------------------------------------------------------------ Miles Vorkosigan
'So... hm. How 'bout I serve you on Earth and you serve me in hell?'
Helen of Troy ------------------------------------------------ Honor Harrington
'What this epic needs is a six-hundred-line treatise on Mycenaean naval tactics.'
Mephistopheles ---------------------------------------------- Bel Thorne
'I'm still vainly hoping for a threesome here...'
no subject
Date: 2010-08-23 03:53 am (UTC)Equal Opportunity Satanic Harlotry! "I'm still vainly hoping for a threesome here..."
Love the shout-outs to canon.