Random 113

I'm going to agree with that. It was an orchid this time. With the same butterfly.

Sebastian glanced up at the sky and sighed. Then he took a deep breath, cursed under his breath and pointed at the orchid and butterly. Standing on top of a hill overlooking the settlement, he scarcely even cared. "All right, yo--"

Shut up, said Fortuna, Luck and Misfortune.

He did shut up.

Well? the butterfly demanded from Sylvie.

"A month ago, I might have tossed a coin." Sylvie smiled lopsidedly. "What are the terms if we agree to work for you two?"

The butterfly made a spiral in the air, much to Sebastian's chagrin. The sound he heard -- and what Sylvie heard -- it make was one of laughter. He clenched his fist and looked worried when the butterfly spoke on. So you will do it? Really, you will? Gorgeous! said the butterly/toga-wearing woman, who was dancing like crazy.

The orchid sighed and immediately grabbed Luck by the hand and planted the goddess of Luck's face into the ground. I think the terms are clear. You will get home, the Old Lady said, ignoring the mumbling of Luck -- and even the caterpillar that was trying to eat her tubers --, and you will work for us.

Then she let Fortuna out of her grasp, who immediately spat some mud. The butterfly itself settled on the ground. The visage of a bare-breasted woman glared at the Old Lady for a moment before stating, You will have your decades. You will have your... time. Children. But you will work for it.

A pause.

Old Lady said, Once in a while. Do you wish to negotiate the terms?

"One thing must be absolutely clear. No games. No added complications to make a more amusing show."

The goddesses were still for a while. Sebastian had goosebumps and was strangely worried. He supposed it was Sylvie's lack of experience with religion, but she was driving a hard bargain. For the love of -- well, the Ladies! Sylvie was bargaining with creatures out of time, space and of mostly concepts.

He wouldn't have had the guts.

And the reaction said creatures had made him want to wet his pants. Sebastian was sweating as it were.

Then the goddesses sighed. The orchid said: Fine. We will keep our fingers off you... to an extent, and only call you to work when something is amiss. But as a token of...

...of appreciation, long lives, strokes of luck, said the butterfly/toga woman, staring at a very stiff and worried Sebastian. It smiled, crookedly. Oh, there will be repercussions, dear child, but I will look over you.

Then the butterfly fluttered to Sylvie -- the woman behind the image squinted. Agreeable?

Sylvie had faced down the heads of her school over the matter of being allowed to leave, and those people had earned her respect. With the goddesses, her anger was strong enough to cover most of her fear.

But that, now, worried her. "What repercussions?"

The butterfly turned in the air -- and so did Fortuna's face turn at Sylvie, smiling mischievously. You will be living with him and the other way around. That is one of the repercussions. And as for your child, children, however it shall be... well. She looked at Land. Their lives, I agreed with my sister here, are for you to decide; whether they will work for us too once you are too old. But I warn you, I shan't tell you how long it will be.

Sebastian covered his face, sighed and waited -- he only waited for Sylvie to react, and thus, he sat down on the ground and tried to make sense of these alien personalities that he was afraid of, yet served. "Could you just give a fucking straight answer for once?"

The first answer drew an almost-amused snort from Sylvie; she knew that would be a challenge and accepted it. The other... She sighed and shook her head. "And why are you so obsessed with making people decide other people's lives for them?"

This got twin stares. Twice. First at Sebastian (reproachfully) and then at Sylvie (quite blankly).

We don't necessarily decide. We know. Or, Land pointed at Luck, she knows the way things may end.

The butterfly grinned.

"Fine," Sebastian said at length, solemn and sorrowful. "For my part, I'm ready for anything as long as it means I'll get to have some stability. I'm sick of being no-one, and without anybody. Just let me... I don't know about her, but I'll damned well agree to this. If only you'll let us go at some point? That's all I ask for. I just want Sylvie."

This seemed to suit the goddesses.

You? asked Fortuna, Luck, Chance. You can always say no. There was a hint of mischief to her voice.

The orchid was silent.

Why do you want me to decide other people's fate? was what Sylvie had meant, but Sebastian's words freed her from having to ask. She took the half step towards Sebastian, her shoulders dropping, and stroked his hair. She closed her eyes, and leaned back her head briefly, sighing.

"I want us to go home. I agree."

He was on the verge of tears of abandonment when Sylvie came to him. Then they turned into tears of wonder, because for once someone cared enough to --

...say that?

Sebastian sucked in the tears. It ran from his nose soon, but he was still utterly wordless.

The goddesses, on the other hand, when he looked at them both tilted their heads, then shrugged.

Well. That is it, then. Take care of him, said Fortuna, pointing first at Sylvie -- and then at Sebastian. And you. Mind your luck. You finally have it.

Pompous bastard, the Old Lady muttered, then cleared her throat. The orchid began to move away, as if swaying in the wind. Keep walking. You'll find your way. And as if the two entities had never been there, the flower and butterfly disappeared with only a few words echoing in the distance.

Be there, be two-in-one.

And after a moment of silence, a very shocked half-elf turned a teary stare at Sylvie. He had no words, but he kept trying to ask questions, make statements, but found everything lacking. Sebastian settled for staring.

Sylvie sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulders, pulled him close. Her other hand reached for his face.

There were tears in her eyes, but she gave Sebastian a warm smile. "We'll see how this turns out. Eventually."

Her hand turned out wet. Strange, that, he wondered. Being highly emotional like that. Eventually, he took a long warbling breath. "Eventually. But, mm." He paused, finally putting his arms around her and smelling her scent.

The word came out weakly but hopefully.

"...home?"

Hopefully. Eventually. We'll have to work for it, and not just because of them. But still, strange as they were, the goddesses' promise lifted Sylvie's spirits.

"Yes."