Graves [Ryst]

[Vriska]

When you have completed what you thought you had to do

And your blood's depleted to the point of stable glue

There were few graveyards in the City. Well, not like the land-dwellers understood them. Space was scarce - or at least it had been when the Oocca had actually filled the city. And why would any self-respecting Oocca want to spend their life in the air and then spend eternity caged underground? Madness. The dead were burned. All Vriska had to remember her mother's passing was the memorial marker staked into the ground in the shade of a young tree. In fifty years it would be a majestic oak. For now it at least shaded the marker from the sun. That was something, at least.

Getting to the City had been far from easy. It had been weeks since Rwaht had given her the news that her exile was lifted. She had spent that whole time swinging between weeping in relief, shattering every stick of furniture in her house in rage and just walking, staring up at the sky, feeling nothing because she didn't know how. Eventually she had gathered the courage to step into that horrible cannon. She had moved through the City like a ghost, cloaked and hooded, almost thinking she should simply saw off her horns - anything to avoid being recognized. She had walked for hours, eyes half-shut and unseeing, refusing to accept the fact that, for better or worse, she was home.

Vriska hadn't taken her hood off until she'd reached the memorial garden. It was empty, an unusual thing in a place so hung up on its past. Vriska didn't mind. The shame she felt at having to refer to the grid the garden was organized into to find her mother's marker was overwhelming. She sat there in the grass, wishing the entire City were lashed by terrible storms to match her grief and happy the sun would never stop shining here above the clouds. She wept freely, her entire body occasionally racked in heaving, silent sobs. She wanted to scream. To rage. To hurt someone. And she did, on the inside, trying to fill that gaping hole in her soul.

[Ryst Seraphine]

He had figured it would take his sister some time to adapt to the idea of returning. That’s why when the exile was lifted he had his guards put on lookout at the cannons for the very distinct Minish. He had received word almost immediately and then sent men to clear out the memorial garden. Vriska would go to one of only a few places immediately, and no doubt would go to the memorial garden before the day was out. And, lo and behold, that was the first place she went. Fortunately, too, it was easy for them to be alone there with the place cleared out.

He saw her at her mother’s marker. Ryst had never known the woman. Part of wished he had, since she was so dear to both his father and his sister, but he couldn’t feel connected to her. The only relation he had to her was the fact that she tore his family apart, but he did not begrudge her that. His own mother could’ve accepted it, could’ve moved on, instead of acting out of spite. If there was anyone to blame for the state of the royal family it was Lady Eyr, who he could hardly refer to as mother anymore.

The Oocca Lord stepped forward and behind Vriska, then reached out and rested his hand on her shoulder. The two of them had been close when they were kids, during the ordeal. He had looked out for the Minish while his mother plotted to destroy her. Still, they had been apart for years, and just by looking at his sister he could tell she had changed. Face emotionless, his hand rested on her shoulder momentarily before withdrawing. ”I would’ve lifted the exile sooner, but when I heard nothing from you I thought something had happened.” Hardly an excuse, but when he had taken the throne so much had happened that the issue never had a chance to resolve.

[Vriska]

A touch on her shoulder sent an immediate wave of revulsion through Vriska's body, though she didn't show it. She should have expected Ryst would show up. Her memory of the time immediately after her exile was spotty. She could remember such rage that it felt as if her soul was burning, and pain as if she had no soul at all. She had been hurt, terrified, confused and grieving for four years. This was the ninth time Vriska had visited her mother's memory. She'd heard of her father's death and felt the slightest pang of sorrow, like a pebble tossed at a mountain. It hadn't even occurred to her to contact Ryst.

There was iron in his grip, in his presence, in his voice, and it was so different from the Ryst she used to know. Her brother had been a lazy snake, coiled and sleepy and wearing latent energy like a cloak until you tried to catch him and he would slip through your fingers as if he'd never really been there. Now there was iron in him, but it was wrong. Someone had finally caught the sleek serpent and pinned it down with iron nails while it squirmed and woke and he learned what venom was for.

Turning her head, Vriska brought her eight eyes to bear on the once-snake-now-serpent. She looked at him for a long while, her expression hollow. She fancied she could see the man he had become now. The serpent had cast off its cloak of latent energy - wasted potential now, what good would moving do him now? He wasn't running, but that did not mean he was complacent. He had learned to kill with his mouth, and wore the pain of iron better than any mantle. A ruler was larger than an average man. One day the force of Ryst's presence would blanket all of Hyrule.

With an imperceptible shrug, Vriska let the cloak fall from her body, revealing her shining steel arm and wild mane. She let her gaze fall back to her mother's marker. "Something did," she told him simply. It was not an acceptance of his excuse, but it was the slightest of starts. The marker had been taken care of, remaining untouched by the aggressive undergrowth that tended to crowd under the soon-to-be-ancient and the stone was even polished smooth and untouched by any vandals who would have defaced the outsider's memory. Vriska didn't know what she would have done if it had. "Thank you," she mumbled silently.

[Ryst Seraphine]

Vriska knew how to add weight to the situation. Ryst wasn’t sure which was more surprising: the metal arm, or the loaded “thank you”. On one hand, losing a limb was a major change. No doubt it had been painful, traumatizing, but Vriska had gotten it replaced, perhaps even with a more capable limb. She would miss it, yes, but there was nothing to be done about that. No ruling race in Hyrule had the ability to regenerate limbs, so the metal arm was the best Vriska could do from here on.

On the other hand that “thank you” held more meanings than any onlooker could gather. Those simple two words spoke a volume. And even Ryst, master of the court as he was, couldn’t discern exactly what they were addressing. His sister could be thanking him for lifting the exile, which would be the obvious conclusion. Or she could be referring to the marker, the headstone, taken care of after all these years—Ryst had made sure of it, though he didn’t do it personally. Then there was all the support he’d given her and her mother during the rule of Lord Jyshra, when everything had happened. Vriska could say thank you for now knowing why it had taken so long to lift her exile.

And yet there was more, negatives. She could be sarcastic, and for every reason before. Perhaps he had been too long in lifting it. Perhaps he should’ve done more to help her. Maybe she didn’t like the thought of him looking out for her mother’s headstone. There were just as many negatives as there were positives in those two words, and Ryst was at a loss for what they really meant. So he said the only thing he could in response to such words, the only thing anyone could give to such a loaded statement: an equally loaded one. ”You’re welcome.” Tone flat and face emotionless, they responded to every possible meaning if Vriska’s words, and held their own.

[Vriska]

Why wasn't he saying anything? His word-hole flapped open and shut and sounds came out of it but they meant nothing at all everything in the world and she had been sitting here for hours trying to remember what her mother's voice sounded like. This was pointless. She had to pull herself together before she did something stupid.

Stupider than coming here, anyway.

Which was pretty damn stupid in the first place.

Who am I hugging? Am I hugging someone? Oh God. Oh god oh god ohgodohgodohgodgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffGETITOFF

She couldn't seem to dislodge herself from her brother, whom she had flung herself at with all the strength her grief and shame and terror could muster. "How've you been, Ryst?"

[Ryst Seraphine]

Few have seen Ryst in actual combat, let alone know how capable he is by looking at him. It goes without doubt, however, that he carries himself with some abilities. When Vriska threw herself at him so abruptly his immediate reaction was to set his feet and absorb the impact. It was all reflex, so as her arms wrapped around him his feet danced back a step to make up for the loss in balance, and his arms wrapped back around her. He may come from an iron throne, but he was not beyond giving his long lost sister a hug.

As for her question. Well the few words they’d shared were not nearly enough to answer that. Their meeting would not be long enough to answer it. He’d become Oocca Lord soon after she’d departed, and things have been constantly crazy since, as would be expected for the regent of the sky, ruler of an entire race. Ups and downs, lots of twists and turns. Hard decisions, an iron fist, Ryst couldn’t decide where to begin in answering her question. At least not Ryst the Oocca Lord, grown into the role of king.

”I haven’t,” responded Ryst the Vagrant Prince, the old him who Vriska knew. As soon as he had taken the throne that side of him had to be put aside. It was unbecoming of a ruler to get on the way he had. It was fine for the prince, as he didn’t have much responsibility other than going to bed at night. It didn’t even matter which bed half the time. ”Trust me, that throne is mighty uncomfortable and really gets to you after this long,” he said with a quaint smile, shadows of his old self shining through.

[Vriska]

What a pair they were. The picture of a healthy family. And they were, Vriska realized, a family. Ryst was the only family she had left in the world. The realization added yet another stone to weigh on her heart. When he left her she would be all alone. Again.

And she still couldn't bear to let him touch her. Feeling his hands on her back and he was touching her and he had his hands on her wings and he was trapping her and she couldn't breathe and get it off GET IT OFF

With a strangled cry, Vriska broke free and pushed her brother away as she recoiled violently from his touch and fell back to the ground holding herself and shivering. Shame boiled like acid in her guts. She couldn't look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry," she said. She couldn't stop the rest from coming out. It just kind of happened, and the shame and sorrow in her voice surprised even her and god dammit she was gonna cry again. "I'm so so sorry for everything I did and said and for being such a freak and it would be so much better if I was never born and I'm sorry I ruined everything and I hate myself and I hate who I am and what I am and it should be my name on that marker and I wish it was but I just can't do it because I'm such a coward and I'm worthless and I'm so ashamed."

She kept on apologizing, stopping only to breathe in heaving sobs and why can't I stop crying. She didn't know if she was talking to Ryst or to her mother. She wasn't even sure it mattered anymore.

[Ryst Seraphine]

Things seemed to be going okay. At least in Ryst's opinion. Communication between them was trickling along, slowly growing from a stream into a river and oh my god it's an ocean! Ryst wasn't ready for all that flooded out and poured over him. He could make sense of a few words, but the entire thing was such a jumble only worsen by Vriska's tears and the sheer panic that seemed to be overwhelming her. Then again, when you consider it, shit went down.

Ryst, however, didn't know how to react. He licked his lips and considered what he could make out from the mess. Okay. Vriska felt sorry. For what? Then there was something about hating herself and being a coward and okay, there was a picture there. Vriska was feeling guilty and thought herself a coward for . . . something. Ryst decided to handle it from there, reaching out and ruffling her hair in what was hopefully a still-familiar gesture. It felt foreign enough to him, because he had changed quite some bit in the time they were apart.

"Calm down, calm down. It wasn't your fault. It was a combination of a lot of good and bad things that neither of us could've helped. But it's over now, you don't have to feel bad for anything," Ryst commented simply, not sure how to truly respond. "There's no point in over-analyzing what's already happened. There's no helping it now; we made it through and here we are."

[Vriska]

This is complete bullshit.

Vriska felt like a complete idiot. She shouldn't be breaking down like this. She should get up, crack a smile, make a joke, take Ryst by the arm and leave. She tried to do exactly that, but her legs didn't seem to want to respond. Ryst ruffled her hair and the memory was so sweet it hurt and Vriska immediately reached up and restored her hair back to the way it was.

How different they both were now. Ryst had soared as high as anyone had ever gone - so high it was hard to breathe and the air was ice in your lungs and your veins and on your skin and it was so very easy to fall. Vriska was still climbing out of the crater she'd left when they'd thrown her out.

"I still can't entirely accept that I'm here. I swore I'd never come back, did you know? I hated you a great deal for a very long time. You, me, father, Eyr, this place, these f8cking people..." She took a deep breath, wiping tears from her face. "I still do. It hurts, Ryst. It's hurt for a very long time and it's not getting better. It's never getting better."

[Ryst Seraphine]

No doubt the events of their past had left Vriska scarred. Ryst was surprised he walked away like he did. Then again considering how cool and efficient he was, how bottled up and emotionless he was maybe he didn't escape unscathed. Still, there was no point on dwelling. The two of them could sit there in that memorial garden moping and weeping and holding each other for hours if they wanted to. And no one would interrupt them. But Ryst just didn't see that accomplishing anything.

He had changed.

"You know what the old Vriska would do here? The Vriska I knew, that I helped raise, would take that hurt and show it true pain. She's wrestle it into submission and show it who's boss. Tears don't suit you, sis, so wipe them away and stand up," he barked lightheartedly, if such a thing was possible.

[Vriska]

And all of a sudden her legs were working again. Standing up, Vriska took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped away her tears. Her face felt hot and raw, but she felt a little better.

It was unbelievably good to hear Ryst's voice again. Picking up her cloak and throwing around her, Vriska took his arm and led him away from that place, looking back only once. Part of her didn't want Ryst anywhere near her mother.

When Vriska felt up to talking, she took another breath and by all that's holy the air up here is so CLEAN got down to business. "I want you to legitimize me. I want you to make me a Seraphine."

[Ryst Seraphine]

Well that was an interesting thought. A crack formed in the mask that Ryst put on to hide everything as his pupils dilated and he couldn't help but smirk, if only for a second, before he fixed the crack and replied with a blink. Legitimize her. It was a strange request, to say the least. How would that go over with the court? As much as he enjoyed toying with them, that was a major step in the future of the City and the nobility. That would place Vriska immediate second to the throne, should anything happen to him.

It would certainly shatter any games everyone was playing. All those little steps the nobility liked to take toward the ultimate goal of being close or on the throne themselves would be thrown into the wind as Vriska walked through. He could begin to see why the thought appealed to her. The Vriska he had known was quite the troublemaker in her days, when they weren't worried about the impending family implosion.

"There'd be a lot of paperwork, red tape and lots of time in the archives for my steward. So far it's appealing . . . why do you want that, Vriska?" he asked calmly. She had been away for a long time and this was the first time either of them had seen each other since she'd left. While she was still her sister, he had to wonder if the absence might've given her some ulterior motives.

[Vriska]

There was a long pause as Vriska tried to put what she was feeling into words. It was an unbelievable relief not to have to constantly wrestle her words into Hylian all the time. "I want my name," she told him, surprised at the fierceness with which she said it. "All my life I've just been Vriska Sky. I'm not your equal, I have no rights, I'm just a bastard. Just some lord's mistake he couldn't get rid of."

Long-buried rage bubbled slowly to the surface. "I don't want to be the scared little girl you can just kick out with no consequences. I couldn't be my father's daughter, I didn't even have my mother's name. I want to be your sister, Ryst."

[Ryst Seraphine]

Ryst watched all the emotions wash over his sister. He wasn't expecting any less, honestly. It was only through years of lording that he had perfected an emotional barrier to prevent outbursts and moments like this. He watched her calmly as she battled with herself, with her words, with her tongue and with the idea itself. He watched as she got out her reasoning, and nodded.

"You realize the sheer amount of fuss this will raise will be titanic in proportion, right?" he asked her calmly, keeping his voice measured and even. "Many people will object and you'll become the hottest topic among the nobility. I wouldn't be surprised if there were a couple conspiracies uncovered shortly afterward. It's a lot of responsibility." He let that sink in. "With that said, if you really wish to have a name, I'll see to it."