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Chains and Strings

Summary:

Another wet sounding cough broke the relative silence of the night. At least he had chosen a nice time to die, El supposed.

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Or, El on Blake's death and what comes after

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

El watched in silence as Blake spit out more of his precious blood. His mask had deteriorated into nothingness, so El couldn’t assist him anymore. She was forced to watch her favorite person in the world slowly succumb to his wounds.

Another wet sounding cough broke the relative silence of the night. At least he had chosen a nice time to die, El supposed.

She sort of wished he would have died of old age, but alas. Blake never was great at keeping himself out of conflicts. It was actually one of the things she liked about him.

Another cough. It seemed like his heart was trying to force its way through his throat by the sound of it. What was left of his heart, anyway. The fight had left the man with multiple open gaping wounds, actively transporting his insides to the outside.

She watched Blake’s heart struggle to beat again, drawing from every and all energy the body still had.

It wasn’t much.

Blake’s legs buckled underneath him and it forced him to kneel on the ground to prevent toppling over right then and there.

The sight made El nauseous. Blake shouldn’t kneel for this; he was only supposed to kneel for her. It all seemed wrong. It all seemed unfair.

Another painful sounding cough—weaker sounding than the previous ones.

Blake keeled over—only barely managing to avoid faceplanting, he twisted his body and landed on his side instead.

El watched as it took almost all of Blake’s strength to turn himself onto his back. He lay there, staring at the sky, while blood was slowly forming a puddle around him.

El knew he couldn’t see her now—not in this state—but she moved so she was hovering in front of him anyway. It was almost like he was actually looking at her, instead of through her.

He grunted, using the last of his energy to raise his arm in the air. He was reaching out to nothing, he wasn’t—couldn’t—be aware El was physically there with him.

El closed her hands around his’s anyway.

She could almost feel the warmth of his last breath as Blake’s arm fell unceremoniously back down onto the ground. The life in his body finally fading into nothingness.

El found herself locked in position for a moment—she couldn’t get herself to move away from Blake’s body. At least he could rest now, she consoled herself.

The strings slowly appeared into view. Originating from the pads of El’s fingers and ending all over Blake’s body; his arms, his legs, his throat, his fingers, his mask—El had made sure Blake was properly claimed. His body was her’s now, so was his soul.

Suddenly, a yellow chain caught her gaze. It was shackled to Blake’s wrist, next to where one of El’s strings had wrapped around.

A black and yellow shadow appeared next to Blake. The shackle on Blake’s wrist leading back to said entity by a golden chain.

“Hello, El.” The being croaked.

El recognized that voice, unfortunately.

Mouthpiece.

“What are you doing here?” El spat out. She didn’t like Mouthpiece, she didn’t like that Mouthpiece was near Blake—she had seen what happened to their previous vassal—she didn’t want Blake involved with any of that.

“Collecting my share of the contract, of course.”

El could hear the mirth in Mouthpiece’s voice, and it annoyed her to no end. It was only then that the meaning of their words fully sunk in.

“He told me he didn’t sign anything with you.” She didn’t have a mouth, yet it still felt dry.

“Memories are a fickle thing, aren’t they.” Mouthpiece didn’t even try to hide their amusement with the situation. Clearly finding joy in the knowledge that El and Blake were both unaware of the contract.

El wanted to hit them. The only thing holding her back was the knowledge that Blake’s body could be destroyed in the crossfire if she did.

She just couldn’t believe it.

Blake had actually signed the contract.

El didn’t fully grasp what his thought process would have been.

Blake should’ve known that she would assist him—she always had after all.
He didn’t need the help of this false god. Certainly not one who couldn’t even treat their previous vassals correctly.

So now she was staring down at his limp body. Mouthpiece at the other side, Blake’s body acting as a barrier between them.

She fiddled a bit with the strings; Blake’s body moved with the movement. She immediately stopped.

The two beings stared at each other, even if one of them didn’t have eyes and the other one never blinked. They both knew they were staring.

“He was mine first.” El eventually spoke up. Her wings were puffed up, she really didn’t want to fight, but she wanted Mouthpiece to know she was angry.

“You and I both know that a signed contract has more weight than a verbal one. Especially one you tricked him into making.” Mouthpiece taunted in response. They pulled at the chains binding Blake’s wrists.

El saw red. “Mine,” she growled. She wound her hands tightly around the strings and she pulled them back, returning Blake’s body to its previous position.

“What do you even want with his body?” The fettered one scoffed.

“I want more and better things with it than what you did with your last victim.” She sneered back, the events of the battle of Bonesburrow flashing through her mind.

“It is not my fault he was already dying!” Mouthpiece screeched indignantly, starting to lose their temper as well.

“You should have been paying attention then, I would have noticed if he-” she wildly gestured at Blake’s corpse, “was dying under my care!”

“You wouldn’t know, because Blake actually cared about himself!” Mouthpiece yelled back.

“You just don’t know how to take care of your vassals.” She sneered, accusation clear in her tone.

Mouthpiece’s golden accents glowed. But they didn’t respond. If El didn’t know better, she would’ve sworn she saw something akin to shame flash over their expression.

Nobody said anything for a few moments, both not looking at where Blake’s body finally stopped bleeding. El softly tugged at the strings wrapped around Blake’s arms. Mouthpiece tugged back.

“I can’t believe he actually signed that contract.” She eventually muttered. She never was great with silence.

“I offered concrete assistance, you did not.” The other pointed out.

“He should’ve known I was helping him. What was he thinking?”

Mouthpiece didn’t respond.

The two beings fell back into silence.

Their staring contest unbroken, the winner yet to be determined.

The earth was still square, the sun still came up in the morning and Blake’s body was still lying on the ground.

Notes:

El and Mouthpiece should kill each other