Fic: "Voices Beneath", Rated T. Madelyne Pryor (Maddie/Scott, Jean/Scott), Sinister.
Title: voices beneath
Author: Sionnain
'Verse: X-Men 616
Character/Pairing: Madelyne Pryor (references Madelyne/Scott, Scott/Jean), Sinister
Rating: Teen
Summary: The sad life of Madelyne Pryor; wife, mother, and Goblin Queen.
AN:: The song Mordred's Lullaby by Heather Dale makes me think about Madelyne Pryor and Sinister every time I hear it. Thanks to Resolute, kethlenda, and willowaus for beta and canon-fact checking! All the section breaks are lyrics from the song, which is beautiful.
voices beneath
Hush, child, the darkness will rise from the deep
When she wakes up, all she can see is darkness. It froths like ocean waves, curling towards her from everywhere all at once, and it's loud in its silence and she's afraid.
Madelyne has never seen the ocean. That spill of gentle light that brushes against her pupils is the first thing she has ever seen. (There will be bright light and burning and that will be the last, but that is unknown, and far away, like the ocean she's never seen) Madelyne knows what the ocean is, she can see it churn and tumble over the shore, silky gray-blue water topped with white foam. Clouds drift in lazy procession over the horizon, and the sun sets, sulky and low, in the embrace of the sea. She cannot smell the salt, or feel the warmth of the breeze on her face. There is no soft-wet press of sand beneath bare feet. The picture in her mind is as sterile as the air in the room where she lays, naked and trembling and longing.
Something is watching her, from the corner. Something with eyes the color of blood.
"Hello, Madelyne."
The thing can speak. It is a man. Madelyne has never seen a man before, but she still knows they are not supposed to look like this. He tells her he is her father. Madelyne does not argue. It feels right, but it doesn't, because she thinks something is wrong about a daughter full-grown who has never tasted life. There is a story she knows (how does she know?) about a God and a daughter sprung grown from his forehead. She does not know how she knows the story, but the image of it is clear. Zeus. This man is her Zeus, and she is his daughter, yes, with some purpose like battle laid before her.
In a few days, he tells her, she will leave this place. This dark laboratory with cold steel and curving slick metal, test tubes and notations scribbled in her father's tight, archaic script. He tells her she is his pride and joy, and puts his hands on her shoulders. He leans down, because he is very tall, and she is still too weak to stand. His breath is warm on her face, on the side of her neck. "You will not know me, when you leave. But you will remember what I have taught you while you slept." He presses his mouth to her neck. His lips are dry.
His fingers are very long. His skin is colder than the metal, colder than the dampened stones that encircle the lab.
Madelyne closes her eyes and thinks about the ocean.
But you'll always follow the voices beneath.
Alaska is very pretty. It's quiet.
Madelyne likes the air, here. It is sharp and cold, and it reminds her of something (sterile laboratory and cold air like needles on her skin), but she doesn't remember what. She meets Scott Summers one day beneath a cloudless sky. Something about him looks familiar, but she knows she's never seen him before. He calls her by another name, when he sees her, and when she shakes her head ("No, that's not my name, I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else",) he looks sad. Madelyne puts her hand on his shoulder.
There is something so right about him, despite the sadness. When he kisses her, the first time--a real kiss, arms tight around her back and body warm and eager--it feels like the sun. She is so happy, so content. How unexpectedly wonderful, to find love out of such a good man's despair.
Sometimes at night, when she's sleeping next to Scott, who is warm and solid and real, Madelyne hears things in the dark. Voices like a whisper. A man's voice. Not Scott's, the timbre is too low, and the syllables slide together like a hiss.
You will remember what I have taught you while you slept.
Madelyne thinks she sees red eyes in the darkness. She blinks and they are gone, and she goes to sleep again and thinks it was just a dream. In the morning, she makes Scott his favorite breakfast. She knows just how he likes his pancakes. The first time she did it, he'd seemed surprised. She'd told him it must be fate. "How else would I know you so well, already?"
In the light of the morning, warm and cheerful and bright, it is easy to forget about her nightmares, and the things that call in the dark.
And you won't understand the cause of your grief
"I'm leaving, Maddie. I have to."
She sits on the front porch, Nathan in her lap. "Why?" The baby makes a sound, looks up at her. Maddie soothes him with a gentle hand, before turning back to her husband. "Scott--"
He is not looking at her. He has his back turned to her. He is a million miles away, her husband, and in his mind she is already behind him. "She's back. Jean. I have to go."
That name. Jean. It makes Madelyne angry. She narrows her eyes. "No. You married me. Me. I'm--I'm your wife! We--we have a child, Scott!" Her voice slips so easily into pleading. If Scott leaves her, Madelyne does not know what she will do. This is all I have. There is nothing for her, if Scott leaves. No purpose.
Well. There is one. The child, cooing on her lap, squirming and opening and closing his little fist. He looks like his father, when he concentrates.
"You don't get to have him," she whispers, voice choked with tears. "Not if you go."
He leaves anyway. Madelyne knew he would. She knows he won't come back.
And carry you down into sleep
The attack comes a few days later, at dinner time. She's feeding Nathan. She has no chance to fight them off, but she tries. Madelyne is fierce and protective and she claws and bites and scratches at these men, these strange men, who have come for her.
No. Not for her. For her son.
Madelyne thinks she recognizes the tall man, the one with the red eyes and the dead-white skin. The one who touches her face and says he is dreadfully sorry for the imposition of their visit, for their poor timing. "We should have let you have dinner, first," he says, before stepping aside and nodding to the others. "If anything happens to the baby, you will face my wrath. He is worth more than every one of your miserable lives combined. Try not to kill the mother. She may have some value yet."
The other men laugh at Madelyne's attempts to fight. "Silly git," one says, and backhands her. Madelyne's last thought before the darkness rises is of Scott.
If you had been there, you could have saved us.
In the darkness is where the demon comes. Madelyne makes a promise, driven by grief. A promise to hurt. A promise to destroy.
When she wakes up, there are creatures in her room. Their skin feels like scales. They crawl over her and purr and bury their faces in her neck. Madelyne loves them. They love her.
Madelyne sleeps.
Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty only to me.
There are so many children, here. Madelyne looks at them all, curious, searching for her son. Her blood pulses with power and it burns behind her eyes.
I will find him.
There is a goblin dancing next to her. Madelyne tosses it a careless smile, and it sighs and shudders in ecstasy when she pats it absently on the head. They love her, the goblins. They would be her children. Madelyne flexes her fingers and feels magic, oil-slick dark, curling in her blood like poison. Sometimes she can taste it when she breathes. It tastes sour, like something gone rotten, but she doesn't care. She is going to have her son. Nothing else matters.
Dr. Milbury finds her in the hallway. Madelyne laughs when he introduces himself. "I know who you are, devil," she says. The goblins laugh because she does. Some of the children in the hallway start to cry. The tall man with the dark-soaked blue eyes laughs, too.
Everyone is laughing, but no one is happy.
He takes her to his office, and then he is as she remembers. The man with the red eyes and the diamond. "Daughter," he says, leaning back against his desk. His smile reminds her of snakes slithering across a wilted, dry desert.
"I am no child of yours," Madelyne hisses. Little goblins are climbing on his desk, tossing pens. She gives them a sharp look. They cower, afraid, in the dark corners of the room. There are dark places to play here. Go bedevil someone else.
They are gone in an instant.
Dr. Milbury is fast, and he moves quicker than Madelyne can stop him. He finds his way inside her mind, beneath the tangled web of dark magic, and shoves it all at her. The truth. Madelyne sees herself, waking up. A cold laboratory encircled by moss-covered stone.
You will remember what I taught have you while you slept.
Sinister grabs her by the neck and lifts her from the floor. "Let me tell you a story, little girl..."
When he is finished, there are pieces of her mind that are broken. They shatter and flutter and cut like glass. Madelyne raises her eyes to her father (Zeus, mad Zeus, that's what you are no father of mine no no not real never real just a thing a thing not Maddie) and screams.
Somewhere the goblins scream, too.
For you are the proof of how he betrayed her.
Everything is burning white.
The air is electric, alive. In front of her there is a woman, a woman Madelyne has never met but knows as well as she knows herself, and this woman glimmers and shines. Her eyes bleed and her voice is relentless, over and over, in Madelyne's head.
Don't do this, you can live, don't do this, no, no, no---
Madelyne does not want to listen. The magic inside her has eaten her up, like a cancer, gnawing on limbs and bones and glutting on blood and pain and suffering. There is too much inside of her, too much pain, and the magic wants out and Madelyne wants out, and she is going to end it all. She will take Jean Grey with her into the abyss that gapes and maws, this woman who has the love Maddie so desperately wanted, and they will die together and then Maddie can finally sleep.
"You don't want to die," Jean Grey tells her, and the Phoenix is resonant in her clarion voice, a thousand bells trapped beneath flame. This magnificent creature is the woman Scott wanted to be his wife and the mother of his child. Not Madelyne. Madelyne, a poor second, a substitute.
She had Scott's love, for a little while. And his son. But it isn't enough. Madelyne looks at Jean Grey, at the face so like her own, and nods.
"Yes," she says, and she can hear her voice in her head, like a roar, and even her breath is sickened and weak and tainted. "I want to die. I have never really lived."
Madelyne opens herself up, all of it, all of her power and all of her rage, the darkness and the despair and the shining, pure thing that was her love for her son--(Sinister may have engineered her to love Scott, but Nathan was hers, Nathan she loved all on her own, precious sweet Nathan)--and it all blooms like a flower beneath the sun--
Child, the darkness will rise from the deep--
Madelyne closes her eyes, and thinks about the ocean, and drowns.
And carry you down into sleep.
~Fin
Author: Sionnain
'Verse: X-Men 616
Character/Pairing: Madelyne Pryor (references Madelyne/Scott, Scott/Jean), Sinister
Rating: Teen
Summary: The sad life of Madelyne Pryor; wife, mother, and Goblin Queen.
AN:: The song Mordred's Lullaby by Heather Dale makes me think about Madelyne Pryor and Sinister every time I hear it. Thanks to Resolute, kethlenda, and willowaus for beta and canon-fact checking! All the section breaks are lyrics from the song, which is beautiful.
voices beneath
Hush, child, the darkness will rise from the deep
When she wakes up, all she can see is darkness. It froths like ocean waves, curling towards her from everywhere all at once, and it's loud in its silence and she's afraid.
Madelyne has never seen the ocean. That spill of gentle light that brushes against her pupils is the first thing she has ever seen. (There will be bright light and burning and that will be the last, but that is unknown, and far away, like the ocean she's never seen) Madelyne knows what the ocean is, she can see it churn and tumble over the shore, silky gray-blue water topped with white foam. Clouds drift in lazy procession over the horizon, and the sun sets, sulky and low, in the embrace of the sea. She cannot smell the salt, or feel the warmth of the breeze on her face. There is no soft-wet press of sand beneath bare feet. The picture in her mind is as sterile as the air in the room where she lays, naked and trembling and longing.
Something is watching her, from the corner. Something with eyes the color of blood.
"Hello, Madelyne."
The thing can speak. It is a man. Madelyne has never seen a man before, but she still knows they are not supposed to look like this. He tells her he is her father. Madelyne does not argue. It feels right, but it doesn't, because she thinks something is wrong about a daughter full-grown who has never tasted life. There is a story she knows (how does she know?) about a God and a daughter sprung grown from his forehead. She does not know how she knows the story, but the image of it is clear. Zeus. This man is her Zeus, and she is his daughter, yes, with some purpose like battle laid before her.
In a few days, he tells her, she will leave this place. This dark laboratory with cold steel and curving slick metal, test tubes and notations scribbled in her father's tight, archaic script. He tells her she is his pride and joy, and puts his hands on her shoulders. He leans down, because he is very tall, and she is still too weak to stand. His breath is warm on her face, on the side of her neck. "You will not know me, when you leave. But you will remember what I have taught you while you slept." He presses his mouth to her neck. His lips are dry.
His fingers are very long. His skin is colder than the metal, colder than the dampened stones that encircle the lab.
Madelyne closes her eyes and thinks about the ocean.
But you'll always follow the voices beneath.
Alaska is very pretty. It's quiet.
Madelyne likes the air, here. It is sharp and cold, and it reminds her of something (sterile laboratory and cold air like needles on her skin), but she doesn't remember what. She meets Scott Summers one day beneath a cloudless sky. Something about him looks familiar, but she knows she's never seen him before. He calls her by another name, when he sees her, and when she shakes her head ("No, that's not my name, I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else",) he looks sad. Madelyne puts her hand on his shoulder.
There is something so right about him, despite the sadness. When he kisses her, the first time--a real kiss, arms tight around her back and body warm and eager--it feels like the sun. She is so happy, so content. How unexpectedly wonderful, to find love out of such a good man's despair.
Sometimes at night, when she's sleeping next to Scott, who is warm and solid and real, Madelyne hears things in the dark. Voices like a whisper. A man's voice. Not Scott's, the timbre is too low, and the syllables slide together like a hiss.
You will remember what I have taught you while you slept.
Madelyne thinks she sees red eyes in the darkness. She blinks and they are gone, and she goes to sleep again and thinks it was just a dream. In the morning, she makes Scott his favorite breakfast. She knows just how he likes his pancakes. The first time she did it, he'd seemed surprised. She'd told him it must be fate. "How else would I know you so well, already?"
In the light of the morning, warm and cheerful and bright, it is easy to forget about her nightmares, and the things that call in the dark.
And you won't understand the cause of your grief
"I'm leaving, Maddie. I have to."
She sits on the front porch, Nathan in her lap. "Why?" The baby makes a sound, looks up at her. Maddie soothes him with a gentle hand, before turning back to her husband. "Scott--"
He is not looking at her. He has his back turned to her. He is a million miles away, her husband, and in his mind she is already behind him. "She's back. Jean. I have to go."
That name. Jean. It makes Madelyne angry. She narrows her eyes. "No. You married me. Me. I'm--I'm your wife! We--we have a child, Scott!" Her voice slips so easily into pleading. If Scott leaves her, Madelyne does not know what she will do. This is all I have. There is nothing for her, if Scott leaves. No purpose.
Well. There is one. The child, cooing on her lap, squirming and opening and closing his little fist. He looks like his father, when he concentrates.
"You don't get to have him," she whispers, voice choked with tears. "Not if you go."
He leaves anyway. Madelyne knew he would. She knows he won't come back.
And carry you down into sleep
The attack comes a few days later, at dinner time. She's feeding Nathan. She has no chance to fight them off, but she tries. Madelyne is fierce and protective and she claws and bites and scratches at these men, these strange men, who have come for her.
No. Not for her. For her son.
Madelyne thinks she recognizes the tall man, the one with the red eyes and the dead-white skin. The one who touches her face and says he is dreadfully sorry for the imposition of their visit, for their poor timing. "We should have let you have dinner, first," he says, before stepping aside and nodding to the others. "If anything happens to the baby, you will face my wrath. He is worth more than every one of your miserable lives combined. Try not to kill the mother. She may have some value yet."
The other men laugh at Madelyne's attempts to fight. "Silly git," one says, and backhands her. Madelyne's last thought before the darkness rises is of Scott.
If you had been there, you could have saved us.
In the darkness is where the demon comes. Madelyne makes a promise, driven by grief. A promise to hurt. A promise to destroy.
When she wakes up, there are creatures in her room. Their skin feels like scales. They crawl over her and purr and bury their faces in her neck. Madelyne loves them. They love her.
Madelyne sleeps.
Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty only to me.
There are so many children, here. Madelyne looks at them all, curious, searching for her son. Her blood pulses with power and it burns behind her eyes.
I will find him.
There is a goblin dancing next to her. Madelyne tosses it a careless smile, and it sighs and shudders in ecstasy when she pats it absently on the head. They love her, the goblins. They would be her children. Madelyne flexes her fingers and feels magic, oil-slick dark, curling in her blood like poison. Sometimes she can taste it when she breathes. It tastes sour, like something gone rotten, but she doesn't care. She is going to have her son. Nothing else matters.
Dr. Milbury finds her in the hallway. Madelyne laughs when he introduces himself. "I know who you are, devil," she says. The goblins laugh because she does. Some of the children in the hallway start to cry. The tall man with the dark-soaked blue eyes laughs, too.
Everyone is laughing, but no one is happy.
He takes her to his office, and then he is as she remembers. The man with the red eyes and the diamond. "Daughter," he says, leaning back against his desk. His smile reminds her of snakes slithering across a wilted, dry desert.
"I am no child of yours," Madelyne hisses. Little goblins are climbing on his desk, tossing pens. She gives them a sharp look. They cower, afraid, in the dark corners of the room. There are dark places to play here. Go bedevil someone else.
They are gone in an instant.
Dr. Milbury is fast, and he moves quicker than Madelyne can stop him. He finds his way inside her mind, beneath the tangled web of dark magic, and shoves it all at her. The truth. Madelyne sees herself, waking up. A cold laboratory encircled by moss-covered stone.
You will remember what I taught have you while you slept.
Sinister grabs her by the neck and lifts her from the floor. "Let me tell you a story, little girl..."
When he is finished, there are pieces of her mind that are broken. They shatter and flutter and cut like glass. Madelyne raises her eyes to her father (Zeus, mad Zeus, that's what you are no father of mine no no not real never real just a thing a thing not Maddie) and screams.
Somewhere the goblins scream, too.
For you are the proof of how he betrayed her.
Everything is burning white.
The air is electric, alive. In front of her there is a woman, a woman Madelyne has never met but knows as well as she knows herself, and this woman glimmers and shines. Her eyes bleed and her voice is relentless, over and over, in Madelyne's head.
Don't do this, you can live, don't do this, no, no, no---
Madelyne does not want to listen. The magic inside her has eaten her up, like a cancer, gnawing on limbs and bones and glutting on blood and pain and suffering. There is too much inside of her, too much pain, and the magic wants out and Madelyne wants out, and she is going to end it all. She will take Jean Grey with her into the abyss that gapes and maws, this woman who has the love Maddie so desperately wanted, and they will die together and then Maddie can finally sleep.
"You don't want to die," Jean Grey tells her, and the Phoenix is resonant in her clarion voice, a thousand bells trapped beneath flame. This magnificent creature is the woman Scott wanted to be his wife and the mother of his child. Not Madelyne. Madelyne, a poor second, a substitute.
She had Scott's love, for a little while. And his son. But it isn't enough. Madelyne looks at Jean Grey, at the face so like her own, and nods.
"Yes," she says, and she can hear her voice in her head, like a roar, and even her breath is sickened and weak and tainted. "I want to die. I have never really lived."
Madelyne opens herself up, all of it, all of her power and all of her rage, the darkness and the despair and the shining, pure thing that was her love for her son--(Sinister may have engineered her to love Scott, but Nathan was hers, Nathan she loved all on her own, precious sweet Nathan)--and it all blooms like a flower beneath the sun--
Child, the darkness will rise from the deep--
Madelyne closes her eyes, and thinks about the ocean, and drowns.
And carry you down into sleep.
~Fin