Archive of Our Own

The path that led into the depths beneath the L Corp Nest was one that had become extremely familiar to Yan by this point. Both by orders of the Prescripts, and of his own volition, he'd made this descent into this hidden space below the City enough times that he knew the way here as well as he knew the way to his favored cafe that was closest to his home. Even the chill that curled around him like a blanket being offered by a loved one did nothing to perturb him.

At this point, he had a much greater worry than some mild physical discomfort.

Messenger of the Index Yan: Spend a night in bed with Weaver of the Index Moirai.

This was the command of the Prescript which had come into his possession only this morning. And the reason for the curling discomfort resting deep in his gut that seemed to sink along with his descending footsteps. It had been needling at him ever since he'd received it, and it wasn't like he could try and get out of this simply because he didn't want to. He'd long since learned his lesson about trying to avert the Will of the Prescripts to any exceptional degree.

Thus, here he was. Entering the den that was one of the origin points of the Prescripts that were delivered through the City by other industrious Messengers like himself.

Yan expected to be serenaded by the sounds of spinning wheels hard at the toil of spindling more threads upon which the Prescripts were to be dictated, but to his surprise, all was quiet in the great void of a cavern. It was honestly a little eerie, the way his footsteps echoed off of the high ceiling and stone walls all around him. Did the great mechanism that did all of this shut down at a certain time each night? He hadn't ever been here this late in the day, so he didn't know it could ever be this quiet.

“Oh! Is that you, Yan? You're here awfully late!”

Yan turned to look over his shoulder, and saw Moirai walking towards him. She was still wearing her usual dress with the long sleeveless black gloves poking out from underneath that he was used to, but she was carrying her white cloak, the signature of the Index, bundled up in her arms. He could tell her hair was wet by the way it clung to her face. Had she just gotten out of the bath? Well, he could add that extra layer of guilt for disturbing her to the myriad of stress he felt about what his current Prescript entailed.

“Hello, Moirai. Sorry to disturb you if you're busy.”

“It's no problem! I'm always happy to have your company!” Yan felt that guilt twist in him again, she really was happy to see him. He could understand it, she always seemed to be so lonely; she'd accept his visits whether by Prescript or his own volition with open arms. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today, Yan?”

Yan didn't know if his uncertainty was showing on his face at the moment. Was this intended to be some sort of tease? Would Moirai be asking that if she didn't already know why he was there? He knew that she was far from the only Weaver in existence, though he didn't know if any others existed in the former L Corp's Nest, or at least close enough that he would be delivering their Prescripts instead of the ones she made.

“Well, I received a Prescript, you see-”

“Ah! Say no more!” Moirai clapped her hands together cheerfully. “I see the Will of the Prescripts has brought you to my door again. How delightful! Is the Prescript something you need me for?”

“... In a matter of speaking, yes.”

“Well, I'll be happy to help you however I can, then!”

Yan grunted, the anxiety over the task laid out for him by the piece of fabric he was holding slowly starting to rise. He extracted the slip from his pocket, and started to hold it out to her.

“Yes, but... You see, the thing about this one is-”

“Oh! But before that!” Moirai cut him off so briskly that he faltered, and his hand retreated back into the tent of his cloak. “Have you eaten recently?”

“... No, not yet.” On account of he'd been so anxious about the Prescript he'd received that he'd hardly had an appetite all day. “I've been a little busy.”

“Well, if your Prescript isn't time-sensitive, why don't you sit with me and have a bite? I just got my hands on some very quality food! I was wondering why there was so much of it, I guess the Prescripts decided they'd be preparing me for a guest!” Moirai briskly stepped towards Yan, beaming at him from above. “So, what do you say? Care to join me for dinner?... Or, I assume it's dinner, anyway.” She laughed to herself, like she'd just told an amusing joke. “I don't actually know what time it is up there. I just always assume whenever the pendulum comes to a rest that it's around night time.”

As Yan understood it, Moirai's food supplies were delivered to her via a similar method to how the completed Prescripts were shuttled to the surface. Through a series of pipes connected to places aboveground, people would bring food to an intake area somewhere (presumably Index members or ordinary citizens alike following a Prescript was Yan's best guess), and then at the bottom, Moirai would receive parcels of whatever food the Prescript commanded be granted to her. And from that she had her meals and snacks that sustained her, seeing as there was nothing like any proper cooking facilities down in this spinning wheel rich dungeon.

If he were honest, Yan didn't think he'd be capable of choking down anything to eat at the moment, but with how eager and positively radiantly she was smiling at him, clearly overjoyed by the potential for her to have some dining company for a change...

“... I don't think that the Prescript's limitations would disallow me from having some dinner with you,” he said at last. He just couldn't bring himself to do it, not when she was so excited for him to give her some rare companionship.

“Wonderful! I'll go set the table for us, then!” Moirai announced. “Come along! I might not always have much hot water for tea, but the food I get delivered is always fantastic! I think you'll love it!”

And with that, Moirai was traipsing through the cavern, toward the small living area she'd carved out for herself. Yan stared after her, still unmoving, watching her form as it retreated further away.

Moirai wasn't an unattractive woman. Far from it. Were he pressed to be honest, he'd be frank to say she was actually very pretty. And after getting to know her a little better overtime, past the horrendous incident that was their initial meeting, he could honestly say that, odd mannerisms aside, she was very pleasant to be around. And a very eager conversationalist at that. He found her pleasant to talk to.

Even so, what this latest Prescript was ordering from him, just coming here to order this of him. Of the both of them when they had only just started to get a little closer...

Yan clenched the Prescript, still buried in the center of his balled-up fist, before he shoved it into the pocket of his jacket and briskly set out to follow after Moirai.

They'd just have dinner for now. A meal to hopefully cut some of the tension, let Moirai enjoy the fact she had someone to spend time with for a change.

He just had to let himself relax a little. Take a few deep breaths, and then he could try explaining things to her as best as he could.

Surely he could do that.

–

Yan spluttered on the water that he held up to his face in the cupped palms of his hands for the third time, shaking his head as if the vigor with which the water was pressed into his face could help to wash away the feeling of dread that he hadn't managed to swallow down with his food.

The whole meal had tasted like ashes clotting up his tongue. Moirai was clearly enjoying herself, and he ate and kept up with her conversations as best as he could, but he still couldn't shake that elephant in the room that was standing directly on his back while he sat across from the woman whom he was so dreading telling about all of this mess.

Yan finally turned the water off, then leaned his weight fully against the sink with his hands gripping at the porcelain that had clouded and spotted with age. His fingers dug into the sides, giving him something to grip while he glared at himself in the mirror.

Get it together already!

He'd already had one breakdown because of these damned Prescripts. He'd fallen once to that despair, allowed that crooning Voice to whisper the sweet nothings of malaise and acceptance of the lack of free will in the world down his ears and into his soul until it twisted his insides so thoroughly that they warped his exterior. He'd fallen into that pit, apparently even went to that old Library and died there before being resurrected and released in that twisted form. At least according to that black-haired woman and her gigantic assistants whose feet he'd found himself at when his senses had finally returned to him, apparently thanks to her. And still he came back to himself.

He'd broken thanks to these Prescripts once, he wasn't about to let them do that to him again.

Especially not because of a damn Prescript that was like something directly out of the plot of a bad bodice-ripper.

Unable to stand staring at his own sullen reflection for much longer, Yan turned himself around until he could lean his back into the lip of the sink, and looked around the space that Moirai used as a bathroom.

It did possess the most basic amenities a human would need from a bathroom: namely a toilet and sink that looked so ancient it was a wonder that the water that ran through both was so clean. Depressingly spartan, but undeniably fitted to its purpose. On the other side of the space, a large container made of thick plastic sat empty, something he assumed was made for transporting items in its original usage. At a glance, it was just large enough to fit a human if they were to sit down in it. Which he knew Moirai did with decent frequency, since she'd mentioned using it as a 'tub' of sorts. Something visually confirmed to him by the label-less bottles of soap and shampoo that sat on the floor beside it, alongside an empty metal bucket.

As the taps down here only ran cold, and there was no stove on account of none of the food she was regularly delivered requiring any cooking, Moirai had described to him in one of her many enthusiastic conversational rambles how she filled it up for use. A very arduous-sounding procedure involving gathering discarded textile materials leftover from the Prescript-Weaving process, making a small fire out of them, and then heating up buckets of water one by one until there was enough she could take at least a lukewarm bath. The residuals of which were then uneventfully dumped out of the tub and allowed to swirl down the round grated drain in the middle of the room's concrete floor.

If even the Prescripts' oh-so-important Weavers never gained any sort of benefit or even a comfortable life of any sort from the very things that they were put so hard to work making, it just made Yan wonder all the more what the point of praising their 'omniscient' words even was. It just made him feel even worse for Moirai, all things considered.

He'd once tried to guilt her, calling her out for being 'safe' in her bunker away from the cruelty the Prescripts enacted upon the City. But she'd been right, back then. More than she may have even thought at the time. She was nothing but a bird in a cold cage of cloth, metal, and concrete. Plucking away at the threads to form the very Prescripts that made up the bars that she would never dare try to open herself for fear of her feathers being yanked from her wings til they were nothing but bone decorated with bloody shreds of flesh.

And here he was, with yet another Prescript in his possession that would force the both of them into something else they'd have no choice in obeying.

He wouldn't have minded this happening under any other circumstance, as despicable as he felt to even think such a thing with the current situation. If something had happened more naturally, without the invisible hand of a Prescript shoving them together like their lives and very bodily autonomy were nothing but dolls to play around with as it wished, he might have even thought the idea... appealing.

Yan knew that Moirai wouldn't reject him if he explained the contents Prescript to her, they would both know how little choice either of them had in the matter. If he'd ended up on the receiving end of a Prescript like this for someone else he'd be doing just the same if it would help them live another day without the fear of a Proxy coming down on their head when their time inevitably ran out. Maybe they could even try to get some form of enjoyment out of the whole thing. But an understanding of consent or even mutual gratification didn't make him feel any better when he'd know that they'd both be doing this with the razor edges of the Prescript's guiding hand digging into their backs.

Yan let out a grunt, and grabbed for the small hand towel hanging off the edge of the sink. He vigorously rubbed the coarse cloth against his face so he could dry the water dripping off of him, then set it down and straightened up to look himself in the mirror again. He took a deep breath through his clenched teeth, then forced it out his nose.

No point trying to delay the inevitable. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could start trying to piece the shreds of his dignity, and whatever tenuous relationship he'd managed to form with Moirai up to this point, back together after all of this mess.

–

“Welcome back! I was almost worried you'd left without saying goodbye with how long you were taking.” Moirai greeted him cheerfully again, and Yan felt his stomach clench again.

“Sorry, just had to... wash my face,” Yan excused himself. Moirai had already cleared away the table since he went in to the bathroom). So now there wasn't even the excuse of helping her with that to stall and steady his nerves about all of this mess.

“Oh, it's no problem!” Moirai rounded the table to approach him, Yan craned his neck so he could look her in the face as she came closer. “Now, about this Prescript of yours! What sort of help do you need from me for it?”

“Right, the Prescript...” Yan fumbled his hand into his pocket, willing it not to shake when he extracted the crumpled and wrinkled piece of fabric and held it out toward her. “I didn't know if you were the Weaver who made this one, or if I received this from another Weaver nearby, so if you don't know the contents already...”

Moirai plucked the scrap of cloth from his grasp without any hesitation when it came close enough to her. She was smiling enigmatically the whole time she took to smooth it out with her fingers, then pulled it taut so she could give it a proper read. Yan shifted awkwardly on his feet, feeling the pressure building the longer she was silently moving her eyes along the lines of woven script.

“Oh! Well this certainly isn't a kind of Prescript I've ever been asked to fill before! How unusual!” Yan felt his stomach drop, hearing that lighthearted tone of voice she was using. She really was just going to accept this from him so easily. As he expected, that fact didn't make him feel any better. He saw Moirai put her finger thoughtfully to her mouth, and tilt her head to one side. “Do you know what time it is, Yan? I don't have any clocks down here.”

Yan raised an eyebrow curiously, but he dutifully lifted his left hand and pulled up the sleeve to check his watch. He'd found it useful to keep a timepiece on his person in order to judge the time limitations on Prescripts. It had already been getting dark out when he made his descent into the Cavern of the Weaver, so he assumed it was already well past the time to be considered 'night'.

“Just turned 10pm,” he said aloud when he'd gotten a glance at his watch.

“Oh, perfect. Well, if it's that time already, why don't we just go to bed now?”

“... Now ?”

“Why not! If you're supposed to spend the night in my bed with me, it'd probably be better if it's as much of the night as possible, right? Just to be on the safe side. I don't want you to end up with a Proxy member coming for your neck on account of a technicality!” Moirai turned on her heel, the edges of her dress whisking around her while she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Come on! Let's get to it, shall we?”

Yan watched her walk ahead a few steps, stunned by how lighthearted she was treating this whole mess. Was she really so alright with this? That she'd just agree to this without hesitation? Even Moirai couldn't be this accepting of such a ridiculous Prescript, could she? That she'd just say yes and rush him along to both their fates...

Yan clenched his fists, willed himself to snap out of his thoughts before they could turn into a full spiral, and forced his feet to move after her.

–

Unsurprisingly, the small alcove of the cavern that Moirai had designated as her bedroom was just as utilitarian as the rest of it. There was a door in place where they entered, and a couple of lamps placed here and there to provide some light. A small shelf held a handful of books whose titles he was too inwardly focused to try to parse at the moment. A thin, time-worn rug was spread out in the middle of the space. And up against one wall was a wide mattress piled high with an assortment of blankets (understandable, he thought, with how cold he guessed it could get down here in the darkness of this cavern).

The only other piece of furniture of note was the one he was ignoring very intentionally, for what was on the other side. That being a large folding screen that was close to one of the walls, on the other side of which he could hear the soft cloth-on-skin sounds of Moirai changing out of her daytime wear signature to the Index and into something else.

She'd told Yan to make himself comfortable before retreating behind the divider. Though, as there was no possible way he'd be at all comfortable in this situation, he'd settled for dressing down a little in preparation for... what was to come. Though in practice there wasn't much to do on that front. He'd removed his cloak and jacket and neatly folded them to place on top of the bare top of the small shelf, then topped them with his gloves and the golden earpiece that he was also required to wear. After a moment of contemplation, he also decided to pull out the golden band that held his hair up into its usual ponytail, letting his hair fall loose around his shoulders. With the final pieces removed being his shoes and socks that he settled down on the floor.

He couldn't bring himself to take off anything else at the moment, so once he was divested to that extent, he just sat himself on the edge of the bed, gripped at his knees, and waited for Moirai to finish changing and emerge into view again.

“Alright, I'm done!”

A task that did not take much time at all after he sat down. When he looked up, he saw Moirai emerging. She looked... not much different than she normally did. She'd changed into a long nightgown, but it was a shade of dark black the exact same as the dress she wore as part of her Index garb. The only differences were it didn't have the high neck, and the looser sleeves only came down to just above her elbows.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Moirai apologized as she sat herself down on the side of the bed besides Yan.

“No, it's fine. I'm... I'm sorry for imposing on you like this.”

Moirai tipped her head curiously, seeing how rigid her companion for the night was where he sat beside her.

“Something the matter, Yan? You've been awfully tense this whole time.”

Yan bowed his head, unable to look her in the eye, even as he started speaking to her properly.

“Listen, Moirai. I... I know that this is... Something we're only doing because the Prescripts are ordering has to happen. I probably not be your choice of partner in this if there really was one, since we barely know each other and all. But even so, I'll... I'll try my best to make this a good experience for you, even with the circumstances around it.”

Moirai was silent for a long moment, leaving Yan to stew in his own feelings in silence.

“ Pff. ” Curious about the sound Moirai let out, Yan looked up from his lap, only to be greeted by the sight of Moirai bursting out into loud, enthusiastic laughter. So strong that she was literally doubled over, clutching at her stomach while she gasped for air that was lost just as quickly to her explosively loud mirth.

“What... What's so funny?” Yan now felt hesitant watching Moirai, seeing her reaction to his attempts to apologize for the situation his own Prescript had dragged her into.

“ Y-you thought... pffhahaaha~ You thought that Prescript was... pffuhuhu... For us to... Aahahaha~ ” After a couple of awkward minutes, Moirai finally managed to get herself back under control, and she was shakily breathing while wiping tears off of the edges of her eyes. “ Haha~ Ahhh~ I haven't had that good of a laugh in a long while.” Moirai smiled at Yan, the final shadows of her sudden burst of mirth still pulling at the edges of her lips. “Yan, were you really thinking that the Prescript was ordering us to have sex?”

“I mean,” Yan started, now shaken by Moirai's outburst. “The Prescript said... that I'd have to spend the night in bed with you. Isn't that...”

“Hmm, well, that's one way to interpret it, I guess,” Moirai giggled. “But the specific wording was that you just have to be 'in bed' with me. We wouldn't have to do anything more than lay in the same bed all night in order to fulfill the Prescript!”

…

Oh .

Oh he was such an idiot.

“ Oh Wings... ” Yan slumped forward, burying his now beet-red face into his palms. He let out a loud groan of humiliation and despair. “ Wings of course that was what it actually meant.” It was so obvious !! Why had he never even considered that option after a whole day of agonizing and fretting about what he thought was an inevitability they'd be put through. He wanted to slap himself for not realizing that blatant alternative interpretation of the Prescript's words.

He felt Moirai's hand on his back, gently patting him between the shoulder blades.

“There there. I mean, I get how you might've misunderstood. I have woven Prescripts like that before. But trust me, they're usually much more explicit in that kind of instruction than the one you got. So if you don't want to do anything like that at all, you're perfectly safe if all we do is sleep in the same bed.” She let him wordlessly bemoan his utter humiliation over this whole mess without interruption, which was as much a comfort as it was salt in the needling little rips and tears in his psyche that he'd been worrying into open wounds since he'd received that damned Prescript.

When he finally sat up straight again, he looked thoroughly cowed. But at the very least, he did look more relaxed now.

“ Ugh... I'm sorry for being so presumptuous about this,” he sighed. “I should've known I was worrying myself over this for nothing. If I'd just put some thought into other interpretations of that Prescript, I should've seen it right away.”
“Oh, don't even worry about it. I know how this sort of thing goes. I've woven together Prescripts for this sort of thing that would make your hair curl.” Moirai leaned back on her bed, hands sinking into the collection of blankets she'd accumulated. “Well, I'm sorry, too. You were getting yourself so wound up because you thought you'd be forced to have sex with me of all people. I know that's probably not anything you would've been looking forward to, all things considered.”

“Wha- No! That's not what I was worried about at all!” Yan sat up straighter, looking at Moirai so sharply that she was taken aback. “I mean, I was worried about that... But the other way around. I thought you'd feel awful if we you forced into that with me just because of a Prescript. Since, I'd be the one coming to you with that, because of one that was addressed to me-”

The sensation of a warm touch on his face gave Yan pause, and he found himself directed to look Moirai in the face by the guidance of her hand's touch adjusting his field of view. She was smiling at him, an expression that felt softer than the usual lighthearted way she went about everything else.

“You're sweet~” She patted a stunned Yan on the cheek, then turned around and started rifling with the blankets. “Well, now that that matter is settled, why don't we try to get some sleep? I bet you're exhausted after a long day of delivering all those Prescripts, and making them sure takes it out of you, too! Best get some rest while we can!”

“Yeah... Yeah you're probably right.” Only that he felt relaxed for the first time all day did he realize how bone tired he was feeling. All the stress from the misunderstanding this mess all day felt like it finally hit him at once, and he really wanted to shut his brain down for a while after so much extended overthinking.

It took a bit of adjustment, but after a time the two of them situated themselves in a fairly comfortable way. Laid out out on their sides, backs pressed together while they nestled under Moirai's many blankets. The mattress wasn't the most comfortable Yan had ever slept on, but it also by far wasn't the worst. Company included, he could say he was actually much more at ease now with the atmosphere.

Even if he couldn't drift off to sleep right away, he could at least close his eyes, letting his tension go while he willed himself to pass the night.

“Hey, Yan?”

“Mm?” Yan stirred slightly when he heard Moirai's voice, not expecting her to speak after they'd settled down.

“Would you mind if I got a little closer? I'm a little chilly.”

Some of his consciousness returned to him, and Yan felt himself hesitating. He was feeling a little warm, actually, especially now with that question. But, well, he was in her bed, and if it would make her a little more comfortable after all the mess he'd just unloaded at her feet...

“Sure, that's fine.”

“Thanks~”

He didn't turn to look when he felt Moirai moving behind him, shifting the bedding around. But then he found he couldn't move, as an arm draped over his side, and he felt a warm body press up against his back.

“Ah...” Yan felt Moirai settling in behind him. She wasn't holding him particularly tight, he probably could move if he really needed to. But he didn't want to, if it would disturb how he felt her draped arm relaxing around him. So, he willed himself to relax, so he could fall asleep as quickly as she was.

“ Yan... ” Moirai's voice came to him again, but lighter. Like it was only barely drifting out on the last, lingering breaths of a dreamy whisper. “ Even if it was by the Prescript's will... You wouldn't have been forcing me... If something like that did ever happen... ”

Yan sucked in a breath, her words abruptly hitting him with their implications. Did she...

“... Moirai?” Yan spoke softly, trying to not break the spell in this quiet place.

But the only answer his quiet prompt received was the sounds of steady, sleepy breathing.

Yan let out a sigh, in this quiet place deep below the City, and decided to leave it be for now.

Anything more to do with this... maybe they could speak of it another time.

“Goodnight, Moirai... Sleep well.”