Burn your biographies, rewrite your history

WESSEX

Oh, his indignation is delightful. Wessex fairly glows with pride as Clem growls, unable to see the pain that accompanies it. “Of course they aren’t. They’re probably the biggest assholes here, but they’re assholes with an immense amount of power, so there is little we can do but live our lives the way we want to. Living is the best revenge against the Old Gods, their followers… and even the Fae. I forgot to mention them, but you should really stay out of the Greatwood. They aren’t messing around.” And that’s all he needs to know right now, this young, accidental Ascended who has stumbled into their world and their hearts.

When he says he loves her, Wessex’s non-beating heart melts, her eyes mirroring his affection in a more adult, tempered way, but obvious nonetheless. She grins and leans forward, adjusting her legs so that cross-legged and opens her arms, making a space for him beside her. “That was the best thing you could say,” she says softly, motherly, momentarily taken back to when Amalia was a kid. Gesturing for the kid to come closer, she waits for him to accept the offer or not, and if he doesn’t, then she reaches for his hands instead.

“It’s not a lot, but do you want to help me gather rocks in the Fangs?” because what are timelines “I’ve got a small job to do, but I would love the company. And I want to know more about you.” Who he is, where he came from, who Dante is… the whole shebang. It's her job to keep the marginalized in the family fold, and if giving him little things to do is the way to do it, then lord, she has plenty of tricks up her sleeve.

No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all