The Love You Want (sleep token fic - Polyvessels)

III: Part Ten

The next morning sees II and III out in the forest surrounding the manor. They both have every intention of gaining some sort of control over their respective gifts by noon. Vessel sits nearby, legs criss-crossed on a particularly large tree stump riddled with mushrooms and clusters of periwinkle at its base, content to watch as II idly twirls a drumstick in hand and III stares resolutely down at his own hands as though concentrating on something. The sun shines through the canopies and lights all of their hair with spots of gold, the forest lush and green, thriving.

"Ves, did you use a weapon when you killed those dickwads?" II asks, gnawing on the end of his drumstick in frustration.

"A scythe, yes." Vessel replies, watching in faint amusement as III's eyebrows furrow in frustration.

It is easy to summon the weapon, its weight appearing with a light shower of golden sparks, heavy in Vessel's lap as the blade nearly brushes the ground. II gasps, eyes wide in awe as he moves closer, staring more at Vessel in wonder than the weapon, at first. II had seen Vessel's eyes flash a bright crimson red, as if for just a moment, they had glowed. III gets up, too, to come take a closer look. Their hands are carefully hidden from II's view, spider-like enough that they're sure II would panic. II is well aware, unable to hide the twinge of fear ever present in the bond, and deliberately does not look anywhere below III's neck.

"This is beautiful, Vessel!" II exclaims, as III bounds over excitedly.

"This is the weapon gifted to you by Sleep?" When Vessel nods, III continues, "So you know what it feels like to summon it? Can you explain?"

"Well, Sleep said my weapon would only manifest with the help of something dear to me. It ended up being my body, the Vessel for my God, my instrument of worship. That is why it looks like this, because it's a part of me." Vessel explains, trying to keep his tone light even as the truth of what he says weighs down on him.

Vessel does not love himself. His body is not dear to him and yet it is, because this body connects him to Sleep, connects him to the other vessels. He may mutilate it, may end its functions for a time as some twisted version of sleep, but if Vessel really wanted to kill himself, he knows exactly how to do it, and yet he doesn't.

"Can I touch it?" III asks, quiet, as they take in the bones and overall appearance of the weapon.

Vessel nods, watching III intently as they reach out to brush careful fingers, still transformed, along the knobs of the spine pole. Even knowing the sensation isn't real doesn't stop a shiver from traveling down Vessel's own spine at just how careful III is being.

Vessel can't help but notice how gentle III is with the weapon, while Vessel wields it without much care at all.

Vessel rushes to continue explaining before II or III can say something kind that Vessel does not deserve, noticing the troubled expressions that have fallen over their faces like veils, sensing his melancholy in the bond. "Your weapon manifests in your drumsticks, II. I'd imagine III's will be manifested with their bass. They're your instruments of worship."

II eyes Vessel as III runs back to the house to retrieve their bass. There's a contemplative gleam in his eye as he moves to sit next to Vessel. Vessel moves his scythe, leaning the blade against the tree stump while the pole gets lost in the underbrush. II smiles in thanks, leaning close so their shoulders, or rather shoulder and bicep, touch. He looks beautiful, ethereal even, with the sun kissing his skin and making his piercings shine. Idly, he twirls a drumstick between his fingers with practiced ease.

"I'm not sure how to explain the way I summoned my weapon. I just- did it." Vessel tries to explain further, guilty he cannot seem to be of any help.

"It's connected to our worship. Maybe we need to attune to our connection with Sleep." II offers thoughtfully, then settles into a peaceful silence, his available hand coming to hold Vessel's.