Fic: Vengeful Spirits (S&S)
3 Mar 2013 07:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisbluespiritTitle: Vengeful Spirits
Author:thisbluespirit
Rating: All ages
Word Count: 1443
Characters/Pairings: Silver, Copper
Warnings Some non-graphic stabbing/bleeding. Pre-canon (early 1500s).
Summary: Copper and Silver are trapped in a crypt.
(prompt 51: copper & silver - Stranded/survival scenario & Hurt/Comfort)
***
“Copper,” says Silver. Copper?
His voice sounds small somehow, as if stifled by his surroundings – the solid stone walls and floor, the musty air and the absence of light. There’s no other sound, either. He can’t hear anything from outside – he doesn’t expect to after what he and Copper have done, but there’s nothing in here, either. He can’t hear Copper.
Silver pulls a face and feels around the floor for a buckle that fell in the fight, moments earlier. He picks it up and turns it over in his hands, finding the familiar process of transformation comforting. It glows as he works on it and though it’s not a lamp, it’s enough to see by.
He stands, holding it up. The crypt is small, but the tombs create shadows and black spaces. However, he can see Copper now, slumped against the side of one of those tombs.
“Copper,” he says, and darts forward. “Copper, what did you do?”
Silver kneels down beside the other technician, placing the glowing object on the ground next to him. He manages to refrain from touching Copper, catching himself in time and examines him visually first.
The dagger, the one that had been at the centre of the irregularity – the object that was probably the trigger itself – was now protruding from Copper’s chest. And Silver realises, his eyes widening in horror, he’s bleeding.
“But that’s not – that shouldn’t happen,” Silver says and hastily removes his cloak, winding the edge of it around his hands and then using it to pull out the blade without touching it. Even through the cloth he can feel the power of the object – it is the trigger. Copper should have said, Silver thinks. That’s why they were here – if they had only reached it before the human had found it, it would have been a purely technical matter of disposing of it safely. However, the man had taken it and whatever was inside it – Silver isn’t sure yet – had escaped into him. Now, with the human gone, it has Copper.
Copper must have known, Silver thinks with a frown. He tilts his head slightly and eyes the other warily. “Copper. Can you hear me now?”
Copper turns his head weakly. Silver. Don’t touch that.
“It needs to be destroyed,” Silver says. “If not, then we’re trapped here. It has you – and I can’t get out without you.”
It’s sealed in here now. That’s what matters.
Silver raises an eyebrow. “Really, Copper. There are limits to pragmatism. Anyhow, I’m sure I won’t have any difficulty with it. I’m not the one who thought using himself as some sort of – of sheath was a good idea!”
Silver –
“Come on,” says Silver under his breath as he disentangles the weapon from his cloak and takeshold of it. “Copper’s no good to you, not like that. You want someone you can use, don’t you? You want me.”
It’s not that Silver can’t see Copper’s plan, but he doesn’t like it. Even if Copper wants to sacrifice himself – and Silver objects to that anyway – it leaves Silver trapped in here for as long as it takes for someone else to work out where they are, if they can, if they will – and if they can find a way through the seals Copper and Silver put on the door. So, if he doesn’t want Copper dead and himself alone here for years on end, he needs to find a way to finish this now, restore Copper and then get out of here.
It should be simple enough, he thinks happily and tightens his hold around the dagger. He recognises as he does the craftsmanship that went into it. How strange they are, he thinks, that they make such beautiful things only to hurt each other. He takes in other information: it hasn’t been used for nearly two hundred years. Its last user died with a desperate need for revenge unfulfilled, his final breath a curse and a promise. Something seems to have used that: the emotion, the moment of death, the blood and the weapon. Whoever holds this becomes that hate in human form, someone to carry out his revenge.
Silver can sense it now, that darkness; it’s leaving Copper and entering him. He feels it, an overwhelming desire to take the dagger and to kill his enemy. It’s stronger than he expected; it’s a black and red flood in his mind, sweeping away his own thoughts.
Oh, dear… is his last coherent thought before he’s lost in it.
*
Silver’s in the dark again, but this time it isn’t the crypt he’s inside. It’s his own mind and he’s not alone in here.
Well, he thinks, if this is his mind, he’ll have some light, thank you. But before he can try, there’s a roar from somewhere and he decides that it might be better in blackness after all.
“This won’t do you any good, you know,” he says to it. “There’s no one here to hurt and no way out – and, anyway, you’re much too late. Nobody found the weapon, not until over a century after you died. There’s nothing left for you.”
Nothing but the desire to make someone, anyone, pay, that is. Silver frowns. Reasoning with it does not seem to be an option.
Silver.
Copper! His mood lightens instantly. Copper, I can hear you. I’m still in here.
I told you not to touch it.
And where would you be if I hadn’t?
I’d have destroyed it by now. Why do you have to interfere?
Silver isn’t sure if he’s been affected by its anger, or if it’s only his usual frustration with Copper. Only if it hadn’t destroyed you first! And I’m not interfering, I’m saving your life – both our lives.
It was a close thing, Copper agrees. But it would have come to the same end. It would have worked.
I disagree.
And now, Copper says with annoyance, I’m going to have to rescue you. Let it do what it wants to do, Silver.
Hurt you again? Copper, no –
Silver. It’s got you. You’re not thinking clearly.
Of course. Silver understands. This way, it will be both of them against it. He abandons his fight and lets it move him as it wants – lets himself strike at Copper.
*
They’re standing together in the dim light of that buckle of his, Silver with his hand on the hilt of the dagger he’s stabbed into Copper. And now, between them, there’s a grey shape emerging from the knife.
“It’s over,” Copper tells it. “It was over a long time ago. Do you want this weapon to carry on – to be used on those who have no connection to your enemy? The victims could as easily be your own descendents. Do you understand?”
Silver knows that’s no use already, but there’s no need to say it – they both hear in their minds its incoherent scream of rage. Whatever it once was, all it is now is anger and hate.
Copper and Silver exchange a glance and Silver maintains his grip on the hilt while Copper touches the blade itself and it slowly rusts away, as it should have done, left uncovered in the forest for so many years.
Silver’s free again now and he smiles and holds out his hands. “There, see. My way is always best.”
Copper ignores him and looks down, almost curiously, at the wound in his chest and the patch of blood left from the first one. Slowly, one heals and the bloodstain from the other vanishes. “Ah,” he says. “Yes, there’s nothing left of it.”
“Good,” says Silver and moves lightly over to the door. “Copper, help me with this – we don’t want to stay here, do we?”
Copper shakes his head and sinks back down against the tomb. Wait a moment longer, Silver.
Silver’s at his side again even before he answers, putting a hand to his arm. “I’m not surprised. You shouldn’t have let him do that. We could have got hold of the weapon some other way.”
Silver. It was the simplest way. Its destruction was the point.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Copper,” says Silver putting a hand to his shoulder. He leans in nearer to the other. “You of all people should know not to be careless. They can’t replace you, you know.”
They can. They would, if they needed to.
No, says Silver, and he takes Copper’s hand, doing his best to help him. Even Copper knows it’s the sensible course of action and doesn’t object – and for the moment Silver avoids the temptation to tease him. “No, Copper. They can’t.”
***
Author:
thisbluespiritRating: All ages
Word Count: 1443
Characters/Pairings: Silver, Copper
Warnings Some non-graphic stabbing/bleeding. Pre-canon (early 1500s).
Summary: Copper and Silver are trapped in a crypt.
(prompt 51: copper & silver - Stranded/survival scenario & Hurt/Comfort)
***
“Copper,” says Silver. Copper?
His voice sounds small somehow, as if stifled by his surroundings – the solid stone walls and floor, the musty air and the absence of light. There’s no other sound, either. He can’t hear anything from outside – he doesn’t expect to after what he and Copper have done, but there’s nothing in here, either. He can’t hear Copper.
Silver pulls a face and feels around the floor for a buckle that fell in the fight, moments earlier. He picks it up and turns it over in his hands, finding the familiar process of transformation comforting. It glows as he works on it and though it’s not a lamp, it’s enough to see by.
He stands, holding it up. The crypt is small, but the tombs create shadows and black spaces. However, he can see Copper now, slumped against the side of one of those tombs.
“Copper,” he says, and darts forward. “Copper, what did you do?”
Silver kneels down beside the other technician, placing the glowing object on the ground next to him. He manages to refrain from touching Copper, catching himself in time and examines him visually first.
The dagger, the one that had been at the centre of the irregularity – the object that was probably the trigger itself – was now protruding from Copper’s chest. And Silver realises, his eyes widening in horror, he’s bleeding.
“But that’s not – that shouldn’t happen,” Silver says and hastily removes his cloak, winding the edge of it around his hands and then using it to pull out the blade without touching it. Even through the cloth he can feel the power of the object – it is the trigger. Copper should have said, Silver thinks. That’s why they were here – if they had only reached it before the human had found it, it would have been a purely technical matter of disposing of it safely. However, the man had taken it and whatever was inside it – Silver isn’t sure yet – had escaped into him. Now, with the human gone, it has Copper.
Copper must have known, Silver thinks with a frown. He tilts his head slightly and eyes the other warily. “Copper. Can you hear me now?”
Copper turns his head weakly. Silver. Don’t touch that.
“It needs to be destroyed,” Silver says. “If not, then we’re trapped here. It has you – and I can’t get out without you.”
It’s sealed in here now. That’s what matters.
Silver raises an eyebrow. “Really, Copper. There are limits to pragmatism. Anyhow, I’m sure I won’t have any difficulty with it. I’m not the one who thought using himself as some sort of – of sheath was a good idea!”
Silver –
“Come on,” says Silver under his breath as he disentangles the weapon from his cloak and takeshold of it. “Copper’s no good to you, not like that. You want someone you can use, don’t you? You want me.”
It’s not that Silver can’t see Copper’s plan, but he doesn’t like it. Even if Copper wants to sacrifice himself – and Silver objects to that anyway – it leaves Silver trapped in here for as long as it takes for someone else to work out where they are, if they can, if they will – and if they can find a way through the seals Copper and Silver put on the door. So, if he doesn’t want Copper dead and himself alone here for years on end, he needs to find a way to finish this now, restore Copper and then get out of here.
It should be simple enough, he thinks happily and tightens his hold around the dagger. He recognises as he does the craftsmanship that went into it. How strange they are, he thinks, that they make such beautiful things only to hurt each other. He takes in other information: it hasn’t been used for nearly two hundred years. Its last user died with a desperate need for revenge unfulfilled, his final breath a curse and a promise. Something seems to have used that: the emotion, the moment of death, the blood and the weapon. Whoever holds this becomes that hate in human form, someone to carry out his revenge.
Silver can sense it now, that darkness; it’s leaving Copper and entering him. He feels it, an overwhelming desire to take the dagger and to kill his enemy. It’s stronger than he expected; it’s a black and red flood in his mind, sweeping away his own thoughts.
Oh, dear… is his last coherent thought before he’s lost in it.
*
Silver’s in the dark again, but this time it isn’t the crypt he’s inside. It’s his own mind and he’s not alone in here.
Well, he thinks, if this is his mind, he’ll have some light, thank you. But before he can try, there’s a roar from somewhere and he decides that it might be better in blackness after all.
“This won’t do you any good, you know,” he says to it. “There’s no one here to hurt and no way out – and, anyway, you’re much too late. Nobody found the weapon, not until over a century after you died. There’s nothing left for you.”
Nothing but the desire to make someone, anyone, pay, that is. Silver frowns. Reasoning with it does not seem to be an option.
Silver.
Copper! His mood lightens instantly. Copper, I can hear you. I’m still in here.
I told you not to touch it.
And where would you be if I hadn’t?
I’d have destroyed it by now. Why do you have to interfere?
Silver isn’t sure if he’s been affected by its anger, or if it’s only his usual frustration with Copper. Only if it hadn’t destroyed you first! And I’m not interfering, I’m saving your life – both our lives.
It was a close thing, Copper agrees. But it would have come to the same end. It would have worked.
I disagree.
And now, Copper says with annoyance, I’m going to have to rescue you. Let it do what it wants to do, Silver.
Hurt you again? Copper, no –
Silver. It’s got you. You’re not thinking clearly.
Of course. Silver understands. This way, it will be both of them against it. He abandons his fight and lets it move him as it wants – lets himself strike at Copper.
*
They’re standing together in the dim light of that buckle of his, Silver with his hand on the hilt of the dagger he’s stabbed into Copper. And now, between them, there’s a grey shape emerging from the knife.
“It’s over,” Copper tells it. “It was over a long time ago. Do you want this weapon to carry on – to be used on those who have no connection to your enemy? The victims could as easily be your own descendents. Do you understand?”
Silver knows that’s no use already, but there’s no need to say it – they both hear in their minds its incoherent scream of rage. Whatever it once was, all it is now is anger and hate.
Copper and Silver exchange a glance and Silver maintains his grip on the hilt while Copper touches the blade itself and it slowly rusts away, as it should have done, left uncovered in the forest for so many years.
Silver’s free again now and he smiles and holds out his hands. “There, see. My way is always best.”
Copper ignores him and looks down, almost curiously, at the wound in his chest and the patch of blood left from the first one. Slowly, one heals and the bloodstain from the other vanishes. “Ah,” he says. “Yes, there’s nothing left of it.”
“Good,” says Silver and moves lightly over to the door. “Copper, help me with this – we don’t want to stay here, do we?”
Copper shakes his head and sinks back down against the tomb. Wait a moment longer, Silver.
Silver’s at his side again even before he answers, putting a hand to his arm. “I’m not surprised. You shouldn’t have let him do that. We could have got hold of the weapon some other way.”
Silver. It was the simplest way. Its destruction was the point.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Copper,” says Silver putting a hand to his shoulder. He leans in nearer to the other. “You of all people should know not to be careless. They can’t replace you, you know.”
They can. They would, if they needed to.
No, says Silver, and he takes Copper’s hand, doing his best to help him. Even Copper knows it’s the sensible course of action and doesn’t object – and for the moment Silver avoids the temptation to tease him. “No, Copper. They can’t.”
***
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 4 Mar 2013 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 4 Mar 2013 04:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 7 Mar 2013 08:02 am (UTC)By now you've fleshed out the working relationship between Silver and Copper quite a bit. I'm very much looking forward to read more about these two! :D
One nit-pick - a tense change:
no subject
Date: 7 Mar 2013 05:09 pm (UTC)isn't it funny how just the mentioning of blood ramps up the tension immediately?
*makes mental note to add in MOAR BLOOD everywhere from now on" ;-p
And thank you - it's quite a relief to know people haven't got thoroughly fed up with them by now. :-) And thanks for spotting the error as well - it's the whole little paragraph, and after I went through it so many time...! Actually, it's a funny thing, but while I was much worse with my illness, writing present tense seemed easier and natural - the better I get, the more I switch back to past. I don't quite know what that's about... :lol:
no subject
Date: 7 Mar 2013 06:12 pm (UTC)As to the tenses...my own preferences meander quite a lot actually. I like writing in present tense, because it feels much more immediate. I feel less present as the narrator and I think it is better if you want to create tension.
I use past tense in longer fics and when I'm aiming for something more introspective for example.
no subject
Date: 8 Mar 2013 05:53 pm (UTC)Aw, I am sorry it's not going well. It sounded to me like the sort of thing that anyone would find hard going, though! I do hope things get a bit better soon, then. :-/
I tend to write all past tense, but S&S seems to fit the present tense - it feels a useful way to express the way that Elements seem to exist mainly in the moment. I also use it for drabbles/ficlets where I'm trying to capture a particular moment too. But it's been interesting to play around with it more and think about where to use both now.
no subject
Date: 20 Mar 2013 05:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 21 Mar 2013 01:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 3 Mar 2013 08:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 3 Mar 2013 09:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 6 Mar 2013 04:59 pm (UTC)I do love Silver in your stories. He's so light-hearted, even while helping to defeat things from other dimensions. I really like this story too. It's very plausible, and I love the friendship between the characters.
no subject
Date: 7 Mar 2013 05:15 pm (UTC)Anyway, thanks for reading - I'm glad you're still enjoying them.