We Could Be Heroes 19/30
Title: We Could Be Heroes 19/30 (ish!)
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, John/Nick, Gwen/Rhys
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Rhys, John Hart and a cast of (probably!) thousands.
Spoilers: Set after Exit Wounds. Sequel to 'Will My Arms Be Strong Enough?'
Rating: Adult - it's going to get very dark in some places.
Warnings: Slash, language, angst, dark themes.
Summary: Meeting the Neokin race.
Disclaimer: I'm a student. I don't own Torchwood.
The Master List (as it stands) is here: anduria-trianys.livejournal.com/27610.html#cutid1
Chapter 19
To say that Nick was annoyed or frustrated would have been an understatement of epic proportions. When Orion and R’nessa walked away, he had stood and stared after the older man, unable to move or breathe in shock. He was beyond angry; in fact, he was even beyond incensed. It would have been fair to say he was angrier than he had ever been before, including the day that he had found out that Alison had cheated on him and even had a daughter with William Cuthbert, one of his former colleagues at St. David’s Hospital, as well as one of his best friends and that Ianto, his own cousin - no, his own brother - had known about it and never said a word to him about it, even knowing how much he hated being lied to. Even his feelings about the night when John had brutally tortured and killed a group of men who had attacked and almost raped him paled in comparison with how he felt now.
On both the previous occasions, he had been able to forgive John and Ianto for what had happened; admittedly, in John’s case, forgiveness had come far easier when his lover had gone out on his own and almost died, making Nick realise exactly how much the former Time Agent - and how he loathed putting John in the same category, even though he was retired, as someone as detestable as Orion - had come to mean to him. As for Ianto, after everything that they had shared together since their childhood, Nick knew that there was no way that he could not have forgiven him. Even if it had turned out that Estelle had been Ianto’s own child rather than Will Cuthbert’s, the past would have made him come round and forgive his cousin in the end. It would have taken much longer, but when push came to shove, Ianto was more like his brother and his best friend than he was his cousin and nothing would be able to change that.
But the situation he found himself in with Orion was totally different. From the moment they had clapped eyes on each other, the older man had done absolutely nothing to cultivate a pleasant working relationship between the two of them. He understood that working for the Time Agency was, to say the least, stressful and almost always extremely dangerous. He also knew that different people dealt with such things in different ways, including shutting themselves away from everyone and being unwilling to open up. So, from that viewpoint, Nick would have been able to understand Orion’s coolness, were it not for the fact that he had been around him long enough to know that the mood wasn’t a front, but was instead his natural temperament. But he was also arrogant and cruel towards anyone and everyone who happened to stand in his way, especially if anyone dared to contradict his opinion or to suggest that they do something that might disrupt his precious lifestyle, whatever that was, beyond treating everyone as if they were somehow inferior to him.
At that point, he wondered whether Orion could actually hear his thoughts now that he was out of sight and, considering how big the citadel was, that was entirely possible. But a moment later, he realised that, once again, he didn’t care about his thoughts being heard. He didn’t care that he was probably pissing the guy off royally by thinking what he was thinking. And do you know what? That’s just too darn bad. If he can’t hear my thoughts now, then he’ll certainly hear them later on, even if it is just through my mind. If he can, then that’s all the better. He caught sight of himself in a mirror and nodded resolutely. I’m not going to be lying down like a doormat any more. There are some times when things need to be said and, unless he wants the entire universe to be enemies with the Time Agency, Orion needs to hear them.
Somehow, Nick had no doubt that his partner was the major reason behind the antagonism shown so regularly towards the Agency. From what he had been told, several old allies had become adversaries to the Agency after several slights had been made. He didn’t know the full stories, but from the uncomfortable glances in the corridors, he had come to realise that Orion had had something, or everything, to do with whatever had happened in the past - or what might happen in the future.
If he doesn’t hear a few home truths, his precious Agency will be annihilated, was his next thought. And while I’m pretty sure he doesn’t give a shit about most of his colleagues, it might put a bit of a damper on his ambition to be the new leader of the Time Agency; if he’s not been kissing Cipactli’s robes to try and get her to name him as her successor, then I’m a fire lizard! Nodding to himself, he straightened his jacket resolutely. And if Orion doesn’t like hearing this, then frankly, Orion can just go and fuck himself.
With a final nod, Nick turned away from the mirror and walked off to have a look around of his own. He made his way down several long corridors, taking great care to go in the opposite direction to where Orion and R’nessa had gone, before he finally came to a large circular room with a heavily decorated ceiling. His first thought was that the multitude of frescoes made the place look like the Sistine Chapel - or rather the pictures he had seen of it, never having been to Rome. But as he looked closer, he realised that he was seeing images, not of scenes from the Bible or of various prophets through history, but instead there were paintings of scenes of everyday life; working in fields or in offices, shopping on markets, playing games with friends, even such everyday jobs as putting rubbish out in the mornings or making the bed.
The only difference was that very few of the characters were in fact human; in fact, there were several different animals and even some figures who were part-human and part-animal. He was particularly drawn to a beautiful scene depicting six women, each of whom had the thin wings of dragonflies with faint tints of colour shimmering in them brightening as the painted sun seemed to drift over them. They were simply washing clothes in a stream and talking amongst themselves, but the texture of the paintwork and the delicate brush strokes made the scene look so alive that Nick almost had to turn away and then look again to make sure that it really was just a painted scene. But he was also quite taken by another scene showing a group of men, women and children, all of whom seemed to be taking on the form of something extremely familiar.
“Well, that puts a slightly different spin on the myth of the centaurs,” Nick remarked with a slightly rueful laugh, wishing for the first time that he had thought to bring his camera with him (he was so awestruck by the scene that it didn’t occur to him that the leather strap on his wrist might actually have a built-in camera). Then again, when I went with John to look at that Rift activity, which ended with us actually jumping into the Rift, I don’t think photo opportunities were exactly high on my list of priorities.
Tearing his eyes away from the ceiling, he started to walk around the room and explore some of the other artefacts on display, some of which, such as what looked like a skeleton of a human-flamingo hybrid, were considerably more disgusting than others, though he was rather intrigued by a skimpy-looking and very short green corseted dress covered in glitter and sequins and with a long tail of multi-coloured feathers. Although it looked scarily like something that the women might wear on Strictly Come Dancing, Nick also found himself thinking about it in a totally different light.
He stopped in the middle of turning round to look at something else. I did not just think that. I did not just start picturing John in that outfit! Although, he would look really hot...no, stop it! Now is definitely not the time to be picturing my deepest fantasies when there’s someone here who might be able to read my thoughts! Besides, his trousers were already rather close-fitting and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to be showing much more than he intended to. So, tearing his eyes away from the outfit, he turned towards the exhibit he had been about to look at - and almost laughed out loud.
He was staring at a statue of a figure - male or female, he couldn’t easily tell, since they were shrouded by a veil - who held out to the audience a long stone slab with a simple pale blue cloth draped over it, on top of which there lay the broken shards of a long sword with strange symbols carved intricately into the metalwork. Despite knowing that this was probably a very important piece of Neokin history, Nick’s all too literary mind instantly jumped to something very different.
“From the Sistine Chapel to the halls of Rivendell to gaze upon the Shards of Narsil,” he muttered to himself, not even pausing to feel unsettled at his unusually lyrical turn of phrasing. “Sounds like the story of my life at -” but he was distracted suddenly by the feeling of a rather sharp pointed object digging into his back. Touching his hand towards his closest weapon, which turned out to be his ceremonial sword, he turned around, only to find himself facing a tall Neokin man with long messy blonde hair and blue eyes which were currently sparking with fury.
Great, Nick thought. I’ve barely been here for half an hour and I’ve already managed to get myself into trouble. That has to be a record, even for me. He forced a small smile to his face and said in his most polite voice, “Can I help you?”
The Neokin’s eyebrows knitted together fiercely. “You just compared one of the most ancient relics of our race to something from a book.” The last word was almost spat out as if it tasted bad.
“Oh!” said Nick surprised. “Oh, that’s a compliment, sir; the book I was referring to is Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, one of the greatest literary works of my time and one of my personal favourites. I assure you, I meant no offence.” Cautiously, he backed away from the sword that was still pointed at his chest. “I apologise if I did offend you; as I said, it was entirely unintentional.”
But the man was unappeased; in fact, he seemed to grow angrier as Nick spoke. “You have insulted our culture and cast disrespect on our custom,” he growled. “Did you not know that the written word is not to be spoken of in this citadel, Time Agent?”
“Oh,” said Nick, too surprised to register the contemptuous voice in which his title had been spoken. “Actually, no I didn’t know that. I meant no disrespect to you or to your culture; in fact, I find it truly fascinating and...” but he trailed off when he realised that the man’s eyes were beginning to darken and his hair to lengthen so that it was forming a circle around his face...almost like the serpents that flew from the head of the goddess Medusa, or the mane of a wild lion...
Oh, shit.
The moment he had compared the man’s growing hair to a lion’s mane, Nick remembered the unique - as far as he had seen - characteristic that the Neokin race had; namely, their ability to transform themselves into animals. Whether that meant that each person had their own animal or whether it meant that they could transform into several different animals, Nick didn’t know, but when he was faced by a half-human and half-lion hybrid, he certainly wasn’t going to stay and find out.
He didn’t even feel himself moving out of the room or even register any of his surroundings; all he knew was that he had somehow suddenly ended up in what he initially thought was a corridor, but when he actually looked closer and breathed in the smell of the air, he realised that he was actually running down a path heavily shadowed by enormous trees, the likes of which he had never seen before. Dimly, he wished that he could stop to get a better look at them, but then remembered that he didn’t want to be caught by a Neokin-lion and quickly started running again.
Eventually, however, he came to what was either a small house or a very large cottage, lying secluded in amongst what looked like a forest of trees and other woodland plants. It was painted in the same dark green as the leaves on the tree and even the roof looked as though it was made of grass. Curious, Nick gently touched the door, only to be shocked when it opened without any further effort. It seemed like the building recognised him as a friend, because as he walked down the corridors, a warm light started glowing in the walls, guiding him through the place, until he ended up inside a very large and, at that point, very dark room. A gentle sound permeated the walls, almost like a tale from long ago being sung by a famous bard, although there was no one to be seen.
But then, as he looked around, he saw streams of light filtering in through the glass dome, which then split into several colours, making Nick feel as if he was standing in the middle of a stained glass window. As he looked around, he could now see that the room was much bigger than he had anticipated and held several comfortable sofas and chairs, some in fabrics and colours that he had never seen before in his life. There were also several beautifully carved tables upon which several beautiful cloths had been set, presumably so that the fragile-looking wood would not be damaged. However, this was not what caught his eye and made his heart sing out of sheer surprise and joy.
It was also then that he understood why the place had been so clearly camouflaged and hidden from plain sight. For, in a citadel where the written word was abhorred, forbidden even, and where any animal may be a watchful guard, alert to any transgression of the rules, where could anyone think to hide such a majestic and beautiful library?
***
Next Time: What was it that caused the Neokin to ban the written word?
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, John/Nick, Gwen/Rhys
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Rhys, John Hart and a cast of (probably!) thousands.
Spoilers: Set after Exit Wounds. Sequel to 'Will My Arms Be Strong Enough?'
Rating: Adult - it's going to get very dark in some places.
Warnings: Slash, language, angst, dark themes.
Summary: Meeting the Neokin race.
Disclaimer: I'm a student. I don't own Torchwood.
The Master List (as it stands) is here: anduria-trianys.livejournal.com/27610.html#cutid1
Chapter 19
To say that Nick was annoyed or frustrated would have been an understatement of epic proportions. When Orion and R’nessa walked away, he had stood and stared after the older man, unable to move or breathe in shock. He was beyond angry; in fact, he was even beyond incensed. It would have been fair to say he was angrier than he had ever been before, including the day that he had found out that Alison had cheated on him and even had a daughter with William Cuthbert, one of his former colleagues at St. David’s Hospital, as well as one of his best friends and that Ianto, his own cousin - no, his own brother - had known about it and never said a word to him about it, even knowing how much he hated being lied to. Even his feelings about the night when John had brutally tortured and killed a group of men who had attacked and almost raped him paled in comparison with how he felt now.
On both the previous occasions, he had been able to forgive John and Ianto for what had happened; admittedly, in John’s case, forgiveness had come far easier when his lover had gone out on his own and almost died, making Nick realise exactly how much the former Time Agent - and how he loathed putting John in the same category, even though he was retired, as someone as detestable as Orion - had come to mean to him. As for Ianto, after everything that they had shared together since their childhood, Nick knew that there was no way that he could not have forgiven him. Even if it had turned out that Estelle had been Ianto’s own child rather than Will Cuthbert’s, the past would have made him come round and forgive his cousin in the end. It would have taken much longer, but when push came to shove, Ianto was more like his brother and his best friend than he was his cousin and nothing would be able to change that.
But the situation he found himself in with Orion was totally different. From the moment they had clapped eyes on each other, the older man had done absolutely nothing to cultivate a pleasant working relationship between the two of them. He understood that working for the Time Agency was, to say the least, stressful and almost always extremely dangerous. He also knew that different people dealt with such things in different ways, including shutting themselves away from everyone and being unwilling to open up. So, from that viewpoint, Nick would have been able to understand Orion’s coolness, were it not for the fact that he had been around him long enough to know that the mood wasn’t a front, but was instead his natural temperament. But he was also arrogant and cruel towards anyone and everyone who happened to stand in his way, especially if anyone dared to contradict his opinion or to suggest that they do something that might disrupt his precious lifestyle, whatever that was, beyond treating everyone as if they were somehow inferior to him.
At that point, he wondered whether Orion could actually hear his thoughts now that he was out of sight and, considering how big the citadel was, that was entirely possible. But a moment later, he realised that, once again, he didn’t care about his thoughts being heard. He didn’t care that he was probably pissing the guy off royally by thinking what he was thinking. And do you know what? That’s just too darn bad. If he can’t hear my thoughts now, then he’ll certainly hear them later on, even if it is just through my mind. If he can, then that’s all the better. He caught sight of himself in a mirror and nodded resolutely. I’m not going to be lying down like a doormat any more. There are some times when things need to be said and, unless he wants the entire universe to be enemies with the Time Agency, Orion needs to hear them.
Somehow, Nick had no doubt that his partner was the major reason behind the antagonism shown so regularly towards the Agency. From what he had been told, several old allies had become adversaries to the Agency after several slights had been made. He didn’t know the full stories, but from the uncomfortable glances in the corridors, he had come to realise that Orion had had something, or everything, to do with whatever had happened in the past - or what might happen in the future.
If he doesn’t hear a few home truths, his precious Agency will be annihilated, was his next thought. And while I’m pretty sure he doesn’t give a shit about most of his colleagues, it might put a bit of a damper on his ambition to be the new leader of the Time Agency; if he’s not been kissing Cipactli’s robes to try and get her to name him as her successor, then I’m a fire lizard! Nodding to himself, he straightened his jacket resolutely. And if Orion doesn’t like hearing this, then frankly, Orion can just go and fuck himself.
With a final nod, Nick turned away from the mirror and walked off to have a look around of his own. He made his way down several long corridors, taking great care to go in the opposite direction to where Orion and R’nessa had gone, before he finally came to a large circular room with a heavily decorated ceiling. His first thought was that the multitude of frescoes made the place look like the Sistine Chapel - or rather the pictures he had seen of it, never having been to Rome. But as he looked closer, he realised that he was seeing images, not of scenes from the Bible or of various prophets through history, but instead there were paintings of scenes of everyday life; working in fields or in offices, shopping on markets, playing games with friends, even such everyday jobs as putting rubbish out in the mornings or making the bed.
The only difference was that very few of the characters were in fact human; in fact, there were several different animals and even some figures who were part-human and part-animal. He was particularly drawn to a beautiful scene depicting six women, each of whom had the thin wings of dragonflies with faint tints of colour shimmering in them brightening as the painted sun seemed to drift over them. They were simply washing clothes in a stream and talking amongst themselves, but the texture of the paintwork and the delicate brush strokes made the scene look so alive that Nick almost had to turn away and then look again to make sure that it really was just a painted scene. But he was also quite taken by another scene showing a group of men, women and children, all of whom seemed to be taking on the form of something extremely familiar.
“Well, that puts a slightly different spin on the myth of the centaurs,” Nick remarked with a slightly rueful laugh, wishing for the first time that he had thought to bring his camera with him (he was so awestruck by the scene that it didn’t occur to him that the leather strap on his wrist might actually have a built-in camera). Then again, when I went with John to look at that Rift activity, which ended with us actually jumping into the Rift, I don’t think photo opportunities were exactly high on my list of priorities.
Tearing his eyes away from the ceiling, he started to walk around the room and explore some of the other artefacts on display, some of which, such as what looked like a skeleton of a human-flamingo hybrid, were considerably more disgusting than others, though he was rather intrigued by a skimpy-looking and very short green corseted dress covered in glitter and sequins and with a long tail of multi-coloured feathers. Although it looked scarily like something that the women might wear on Strictly Come Dancing, Nick also found himself thinking about it in a totally different light.
He stopped in the middle of turning round to look at something else. I did not just think that. I did not just start picturing John in that outfit! Although, he would look really hot...no, stop it! Now is definitely not the time to be picturing my deepest fantasies when there’s someone here who might be able to read my thoughts! Besides, his trousers were already rather close-fitting and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to be showing much more than he intended to. So, tearing his eyes away from the outfit, he turned towards the exhibit he had been about to look at - and almost laughed out loud.
He was staring at a statue of a figure - male or female, he couldn’t easily tell, since they were shrouded by a veil - who held out to the audience a long stone slab with a simple pale blue cloth draped over it, on top of which there lay the broken shards of a long sword with strange symbols carved intricately into the metalwork. Despite knowing that this was probably a very important piece of Neokin history, Nick’s all too literary mind instantly jumped to something very different.
“From the Sistine Chapel to the halls of Rivendell to gaze upon the Shards of Narsil,” he muttered to himself, not even pausing to feel unsettled at his unusually lyrical turn of phrasing. “Sounds like the story of my life at -” but he was distracted suddenly by the feeling of a rather sharp pointed object digging into his back. Touching his hand towards his closest weapon, which turned out to be his ceremonial sword, he turned around, only to find himself facing a tall Neokin man with long messy blonde hair and blue eyes which were currently sparking with fury.
Great, Nick thought. I’ve barely been here for half an hour and I’ve already managed to get myself into trouble. That has to be a record, even for me. He forced a small smile to his face and said in his most polite voice, “Can I help you?”
The Neokin’s eyebrows knitted together fiercely. “You just compared one of the most ancient relics of our race to something from a book.” The last word was almost spat out as if it tasted bad.
“Oh!” said Nick surprised. “Oh, that’s a compliment, sir; the book I was referring to is Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, one of the greatest literary works of my time and one of my personal favourites. I assure you, I meant no offence.” Cautiously, he backed away from the sword that was still pointed at his chest. “I apologise if I did offend you; as I said, it was entirely unintentional.”
But the man was unappeased; in fact, he seemed to grow angrier as Nick spoke. “You have insulted our culture and cast disrespect on our custom,” he growled. “Did you not know that the written word is not to be spoken of in this citadel, Time Agent?”
“Oh,” said Nick, too surprised to register the contemptuous voice in which his title had been spoken. “Actually, no I didn’t know that. I meant no disrespect to you or to your culture; in fact, I find it truly fascinating and...” but he trailed off when he realised that the man’s eyes were beginning to darken and his hair to lengthen so that it was forming a circle around his face...almost like the serpents that flew from the head of the goddess Medusa, or the mane of a wild lion...
Oh, shit.
The moment he had compared the man’s growing hair to a lion’s mane, Nick remembered the unique - as far as he had seen - characteristic that the Neokin race had; namely, their ability to transform themselves into animals. Whether that meant that each person had their own animal or whether it meant that they could transform into several different animals, Nick didn’t know, but when he was faced by a half-human and half-lion hybrid, he certainly wasn’t going to stay and find out.
He didn’t even feel himself moving out of the room or even register any of his surroundings; all he knew was that he had somehow suddenly ended up in what he initially thought was a corridor, but when he actually looked closer and breathed in the smell of the air, he realised that he was actually running down a path heavily shadowed by enormous trees, the likes of which he had never seen before. Dimly, he wished that he could stop to get a better look at them, but then remembered that he didn’t want to be caught by a Neokin-lion and quickly started running again.
Eventually, however, he came to what was either a small house or a very large cottage, lying secluded in amongst what looked like a forest of trees and other woodland plants. It was painted in the same dark green as the leaves on the tree and even the roof looked as though it was made of grass. Curious, Nick gently touched the door, only to be shocked when it opened without any further effort. It seemed like the building recognised him as a friend, because as he walked down the corridors, a warm light started glowing in the walls, guiding him through the place, until he ended up inside a very large and, at that point, very dark room. A gentle sound permeated the walls, almost like a tale from long ago being sung by a famous bard, although there was no one to be seen.
But then, as he looked around, he saw streams of light filtering in through the glass dome, which then split into several colours, making Nick feel as if he was standing in the middle of a stained glass window. As he looked around, he could now see that the room was much bigger than he had anticipated and held several comfortable sofas and chairs, some in fabrics and colours that he had never seen before in his life. There were also several beautifully carved tables upon which several beautiful cloths had been set, presumably so that the fragile-looking wood would not be damaged. However, this was not what caught his eye and made his heart sing out of sheer surprise and joy.
It was also then that he understood why the place had been so clearly camouflaged and hidden from plain sight. For, in a citadel where the written word was abhorred, forbidden even, and where any animal may be a watchful guard, alert to any transgression of the rules, where could anyone think to hide such a majestic and beautiful library?
***
Next Time: What was it that caused the Neokin to ban the written word?