Odin Sphere. A Midsummer's Night.

Aug 23, 2007 03:06

Odin Sphere. Spoilers up through Mercedes' story. A young queen has her doubts about what's to come....

(and the frog is awesome)



A hard sob jolted Mercedes awake. She’d pushed herself up onto her knees before her eyes opened, and when they did, the view of the famed Ringford fairy lights was a total blur. Mercedes coughed and stuffed a hand into her mouth, biting down on her knuckles. Someone might hear her. That would not be good. No one could hear the fairy queen cry.

Someone already had. “Come now,” rasped a voice, drowsy in the dark, “What’s all this about?” Mercedes leapt high enough that her wings gave a beat or two before she sank back down onto her sleeping loft.

“Frog!” she cried, alarmed and little outraged. She could make him out now, that stupid green frog. He was on her pillow. He would get slime everywhere. “What are you doing here?”

The frog, unaware of any offense, gave an impressive (and no doubt rather affected) yawn, “I was sleeping.”

“I noticed that,” huffed Mercedes, feeling imperious in the manner that this particular annoyance always seemed to instill in her. She folded her legs, laying her hands down on her lap. “I recall giving you run of pond in the palace gardens.”

“Finest lily pads in Ringford, yes, yes.” The frog scoffed. “Fine enough for any self-respecting pollywog, I’m sure. But what you fail to recall, little queen, is that I’m normally not one. It’s hardly to my tastes.”

“So what were you doing in the pond in Elrit?”

“Never mind that,” said the frog, with a hint of agitation. He hopped from her pillow, and came to sit across from her, peering up. He tapped a webbed finger against what counted as his chin. “The real question is what are you doing up?”

Mercedes turned her face away. “That,” she swiped hastily at her eyes, “That is none of your concern.”

“If you say so…” the frog trailed off, expectantly.

“I’ve been thinking of Mother,” blurted Mercedes, in a quick whisper. It seemed like something the whole kingdom would hear if she said it too loudly. “And about how, don’t laugh, on nights like these, she used to let me stay up and help her conduct the fireflies in the meadows. About how once, when I stepped on the tail of a wildcat, she stepped in and frightened it off with just a look. And how everyone talks about what a great queen she was. About how she once defeated a jabberwock. Did you know that? Jabberwocks are big, too. And vicious. And mother fought one. And won. It. It makes me think of how big the Demon Lord must be, and how it hasn’t been so long since…” She went quiet.

“Ah,” said the frog.

Mercedes flushed. “Oh, be quiet.”

He shook a finger at her and ‘tsk’ed, “I haven’t said anything.” He would now, though. “The Demon Lord Odin is quite formidable, though probably not the size of this ‘jabberwock’. You’ve fought the dragon Belial, and I can tell you quite accurately that he is much smaller than that. The Aesir may speak of him as though he is a god, as though he is a great hero of their nation, immune to all adversity, but he is a man. As weak minded and petty as that lot comes.”

“He killed my mother,” whispered Mercedes, hugging her legs close to her chest.

The frog paused. Then, softly: “Yes, well. The Balor…that is something to be feared.” In the dark, Mercedes could see his vocal sacs extend in what sounded like a sigh, his multiple eyelids flicking. Then, as though tired of the way the conversation had turned, he said, in a strangely lighter toner, “She was good to you, then?”

“What?”

“The late queen,” the frog clarified, shifting so that his head was turned towards the wall. There were no corners in the queen’s chambers. It was built in a dome, high enough that the windows opened on much of the forest. “Your mother. I assume being allowed to conduct fireflies is quite the privilege.” His eyes darted back and away again.

“One of the highest,” said Mercedes. Red-eyed, flushed, she couldn’t help but swell with pride. “It’s been a midsummer tradition since before--before everything. Mother was amazing. She was very strong, and very kind, and warm, and amazing. She was always protecting me.”

“Quite the idyllic existence,” muttered the frog.

Mercedes didn’t hear him. “I wish I’d listened to her more. There is so much. So, so much that she tried to teach me. So much to be done that she didn’t get to do. And now I don’t have her to tell me these things anymore. Frog, what do I do?”

In the dark, her companion looked tired. His voice had a gravelly quality to it. “Do what you feel you must, Mercedes.”

“That’s hardly any help.”

“I’m hardly here to coddle you,” the frog shot back. “Nor are your subjects. Your nightmares are yours, and you can’t go expecting other people to face them for you. Your mother will not return.” The finality of his words made Mercedes flinch, and frog, seeming to realize some of his harshness, amended, “But you may be strong enough to survive that.”

“Do you really think so?”

He coughed, and rubbed his head. “If you could learn to think for yourself a little, yes.”

“I can think for myself just fine,” snapped Mercedes, pushing her legs off of the loft. She dangled them, looking down and across to her desk, carved into the oak walls. “I will write to Titania.”

“Oh, heavens. That. Well. Suit yourself.”

Mercedes stuck her nose up, tossing her unbound hair over her shoulder. “I will.” She hopped down, dropping only an inch before her wings caught the air, and allowing her to float next to her bed. “I will go there. I will find the entrance to the Land of the Dead. I will find Brom. I will make this first step, so that all this can be done.”

“And maybe I will get some sleep,” said the frog.

Mercedes waved him off. “Oh, fine. Be that way.” She leaned over and, grimacing as she realized what it would do to all that nice fabric, dragged the sheets over his small body. He grunted in surprise. Mercedes shook her head. “You should stay warm. You nearly froze on that mountain.” And she could always get new sheets. Ick.

“That is hardly…”

“It is my decision, as queen,” said Mercedes. That would be that. “And…um. Thank you,” she added, and then darted down to her desk before he could see the queen blush.

odin sphere, fic, fairy x frog otp???

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