Council of the Heir

Chapter Twenty Three - oh no

Heather adjusted her seat in the saddle of her horse, leaning her head back against Herobrine's chest with a sigh. He lowered his chin to look at her face.

"Comfortable?" he asked. She grinned at him.

"Obviously." She pursed her lips, and he lowered his head enough to give her a kiss before turning his attention back to the road. Heather held onto the saddle horn in front of her to keep her balance as she looked around, her sharp eyes tracing over the scenery. Even though she didn't expect Null to jump out at them in the middle of the day, it was always good to be alert.

Her gaze shifted back to the newcomers on their own horses, and she settled back against her husband's chest again. Those three... were, weird.

Heather had thought that she was pretty used to 'weird'. She'd been kidnapped by (and married to) a video game character as a 16 year old, for heaven's sake, with the most recent development being that she was being chased around the world with her husband, his friends, and their disgruntled god by a mob control program given sentience who was completely insane. She'd been hopping back and forth between dimensions for years, had been struck by a Warden and survived. And the arrival of these three had still thrown her for a loop.

Because what do you mean that was the alternate version of Herobrine, who was a ghost, and his still-living teenage son?? What do you mean that lady had an intimate knowledge of their future on account of writing a story about the exact events?? How does that happen?? Why does that happen?? Sure, maybe the 'stories that want to be told' thing was true, it was a cool thought to think that some of her favorite stories were, somewhere in the multiverse, true. But why was Lydia here? She obviously didn't know. As weird as this was for Heather, it must be even weirder to be inside a story that you wrote.

And it seemed like that weirdness was getting to her. Yesterday, Lydia had been... mellower. Calmer. Fairly cheerful about being tossed into actual Minecraft. She'd even fired off a few quick retorts towards Notch, which Heather appreciated. Despite knowing the threat that they were under, she had kept up a brave face.

Now, she seemed twitchy. Anxious. She'd started off their journey by announcing that they were going to change course, because the one that they would've taken would've lead into a trap. Notch had argued, and demanded to know why she hadn't let them know earlier, to which the response he got was that there was no point in telling them before it was time to leave. Now she was sitting up straight on her horse, constantly scanning the plains as they crossed, and wasn't nearly as talkative as she'd been. They must be coming up to something serious for her demeanor to change like that.

Heather placed her good hand over Herobrine's, which was on the reins, and he glanced down at her. She tugged on the reins to draw their horse over to the right, and he complied, letting them pull up beside Lydia on her chestnut horse.

"Hey," Heather greeted her. Lydia's face immediately lit up in a smile.

"Hi," she said, glancing at Herobrine before going back to meet Heather's gaze. "How are you two doing?"

"As well as can be expected," Herobrine rumbled over Heather's shoulder. She tilted her head back against his chest with a sigh.

"What he said."

Lydia nodded, then fell quiet again, staring off into space. Heather checked to make sure she wasn't actually looking at something before she spoke again. "Can I ask you something?"

Lydia blinked, then looked at her. "Sure."

"Yesterday, you'd said that you liked the ending that we already had." Heather's fingers curled over the saddle horn, the leather smooth and warm from the sunshine. "What's... can I ask what that ending is?"