Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Narrator is no more, shattered beyond recognition. All of what he was is gone, and a dull, numb emptiness floods in to fill the space within you that he once occupied.

He put you and the Princess through hell, that's true, but he's also been with you since the very beginning- that is, the beginning of you being you instead of you and her and her and you, each indistinguishable from the other. You honestly can't help but feel a bitter sort of gratitude for what he did to you, painful as it was. You wouldn't have taken this journey, wouldn't have come to these painful, beautiful realizations along the way, without it.

(In a stray thought that makes your head throb uncomfortably, you think that the Narrator is the closest thing you will ever have to a ‘father’. You quickly stuff that idea away to the back of your mind, where it nevertheless still sits, nagging at you.)

The Shifting Mound confronts you after you leave the broken mirror behind, and your will very nearly buckles under the weight of her power, her beauty, and her sheer, immeasurable love for you. She's trying desperately to convince you of what she believes to be the right choice, the only choice, and to be fair, she's not exactly wrong to believe that. You and her are broken, and she simply wants you both to be fixed.

But some things cannot- should not- be fixed, you think. There are some scars that will never fully fade. There are some cracks that can never be repaired- at least, not completely. Not to the state they once were.

She preaches of the value of change and transformation, but fails to truly acknowledge the ways you and she have been changed.

She’s reminding you of the Narrator more than a little, though she would hate that comparison. And as much as you may care for and respect her and begrudgingly sympathize with the Narrator, by now it is woven into your very being to search out the flaws in each viewpoint; to find a compromise, a third option, something better that has to, has to exist.

You didn't anticipate how very hard it would turn out to be when it mattered most.

Voice of the Hero:
Whatever you're trying to do right now, you don't have to do it alone.

You feel like you might collapse from pure relief. The words had appeared out of nowhere, straight from the too-quiet hollowness of only one set of thoughts echoing through your mind into the familiar sound of Hero’s strong, steadying voice.

You:
You have no idea how good it is to hear you.

Voice of the Hero:
It's good to be here.

His words are confident and determined, a steely backbone to brace your will against. You take a moment to be fiercely grateful for him, and you feel his gratitude in return.

Voice of the Hero:
She’s too many things all at once out here. If you want to get through to her, you need some way to get through all that divine confidence.
There's still a piece of me nestled close to where it all began. I can take you there; I can take you to her heart.

The Shifting Mound’s powerful voice rings out, swallowing up your response.

IT’S TIME TO RESUME OUR DANCE.

You shudder, less from fear and more from another pang of indecision, and you feel Hero’s sympathy for you.

Voice of the Hero:
She's relentless, isn't she? Let's make this quick. Are you ready?

…Yes. Yes, you are, as much as you will ever be.

You:
I'm ready.

Voice of the Hero:
Then let's go.

And everything

stops.

A path in the woods. A cabin. A room. A staircase. Dull and without detail, only simple lines marking the outline of what should be there.

A path in the woods. A cabin. A room. A staircase. The details are lightly sketched in, line by line, stroke by stroke.

A path in the woods. A cabin. A room. A staircase. A faithful recreation of what you know so very well, gradually coming into being.

A path in the woods. A cabin.

A room.

And you are there.

Instead of the typical nondescript wooden walls and table, you see the very first cabin interior you ever laid eyes on: a jumbled mishmash of many different rooms crowded into the same space, bricks and marble and cobblestone and rough wooden planks forming the walls and floor all at once. A physics-defying table stands there in the corner, with a pristine blade resting upon it.

Voice of the Hero:
And here we are. I'd say we were back where it all started, but it's a little after that, isn't it?

His voice is wry, with a bit of fond nostalgia mixed in. You can't blame him; it may have been the gateway to some of your worst nightmares, but it's hard not to feel at least a little fondness for a place you know so well. Especially one that houses her within it.

Voice of the Hero:
Do you- need me to describe things?

You huff a laugh at the unexpected question, but someone else interjects before you can answer it.

Voice of the Contrarian:
That'd be nice! A little comfort in an- almost unfamiliar place.

You feel yet another rush of relief at the new voice, Contrarian’s presence slotting itself into the empty him-shaped space in your mind like he never left. A trickle of amusement is amid the relief, like he's chuckling at you, and you internally roll your eyes back at him.

Voice of the Hero:
Oh, you made it here too.

You can tell that Hero's also glad to see him, despite his less-than-enthusiastic statement, and Contrarian can too. There's a brief pause as the three of you internally rib each other, but Contrarian, surprisingly, is the one to redirect your attention to more serious matters.

Voice of the Contrarian:
We never really got to talk to her, did we? This one, at least.

No, you didn’t, but you think that had probably been for the best. She- they- had seemed so disorganized and in pain after merging. You doubt they’d have been up to talking much, unlike your own little collection of facets all crowded into one headspace.

As infuriating as those facets could be, you’d honestly felt more wrong than anything else without them all in here with you. The silence is less stifling now that Hero and Contrarian have made themselves heard, but still not quite right.

You:
Is it just the three of us? Did anyone else make it to the cabin?

Voice of the Hero:
It’s just us. I think the rest of them are still out there, jumbled up in the rest of her.

Voice of the Contrarian:
And I’ve been here since you left me here! No hard feelings. I’m just glad you’re back to see this through.

He means that, though you still feel bad. You feel worse for the rest of the voices, though, even the callous Cold and smarmy Opportunist, still stuck out there alone in their respective cabins. You wonder if there’s anything to be done for them.

A mental nudging breaks you out of that depressing train of thought. It’s Contrarian again, raising a metaphorical eyebrow at you, and you sigh.

You:
If the offer still stands, could you describe the cabin to us? For old times’ sake.

A little something familiar in the midst of all this uncertainty, you think.

Voice of the Hero:
Yeah. Of course.
The interior of the cabin is… well, it’s not really a cabin, is it? It’s that terrifying blend of everything. Only it doesn’t feel so terrifying anymore.
It’s still shaped like a cabin, it’s just- different in places. There’s still walls, a door to the basement, a table, that knife. Windows.

His voice takes on a thoughtful edge.

Voice of the Hero:
You know, come to think of it, I don’t think he ever really included the windows in his cabin descriptions, did he?

Voice of the Contrarian:
I always thought they were implied.

Voice of the Hero:
He never mentioned the mirror, either, but that didn’t mean he implied it was there.
It’s gone, though. I think it did- whatever it needed to do.

It was probably meant to be him, you think, or maybe it was meant to be me. Maybe it was meant to be us both; shattering as I broke out, and he just broke.
The thought feels melancholy.

Hero's voice hardens as you ruminate, snapping your attention back to him.

Voice of the Hero:
And I know you're still trying to find some middle ground, but if things go south, we're going to need that blade.

You're ashamed of yourself for considering it, but for a brief moment, you do. For a brief moment, you cross over to the table, picking up the blade and turning it over in your hands.

It would be muscle memory, at this point. Forgoing trying to talk things out, penetrating through oh-so-fragile bone and sinew with one quick thrust, the blade acting as an extension of your arm. Scarlet blood staining you, staining her, spilling onto the ground. A foe vanquished.

Voice of the Contrarian:
That’s probably for the best. It’s always seemed to give us- more things we can do, right?

He sounds as unsure as you feel.

Voice of the Hero:
So you’re not gonna suggest we throw it out the window?

Voice of the Contrarian:
No, we’ve been through too much for that. And he’s gone, so there’s no one left to mess with but ourself.

The words sound somber, tired, too unlike him for comfort. You can tell Hero has the same idea, his worry echoing and amplifying your own.

Voice of the Hero:
You’ve gotten serious.

Contrarian shoves the worry away with a touch of reluctantly-fond annoyance.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Besides, what’s the third beat? It isn’t funny if I suggest that twice. Especially since you never took me up on it last time.

You feel Hero grin as a small smile lights your own face in response.

Voice of the Hero:
There’s the guy I know.

And then, you get an idea.

Before anything or anyone can try to talk you out of it, you flip the blade in your hand and hurl it out the window with a ring of shattering glass. Contrarian gives a surprised laugh.

Voice of the Contrarian:
You actually did it! I know I just told you not to, but- I’m proud that you did it anyways. It’s like you’ve finally left the nest.

Hero chuckles too, sounding rather exasperated, but in a good way.

Voice of the Hero:
Yeah. Just like that it’s gone, isn’t it? Blade tossed, glass shattered. I guess we’ll have to make do without it. There’s your third beat.

Contrarian laughs even harder, apparently caught off-guard again. His laughter is contagious, warming your heart and bolstering your courage.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Hey, you’re right! Good work. That was really funny.

The door to the basement suddenly doesn’t seem so ominous anymore. You open it, and are faced with a collection of winding, twisting staircases- though this time, only one offers a way down.

Hero’s voice goes soft, reminiscing.

Voice of the Hero:
Those winding stairs again… but now there’s only one way forward. Do you remember the first time we were here? The first time we heard her voice?

Voice of the Contrarian:
Yeah, it was a real mess. Stopped being fun pretty quick.

It’s okay. You can come down. The stairs won’t bite; not this time.

Your heart constricts. It’s the Princess: the very first version of her that you met, her infinitely many voices meshed together into one. But these voices are smooth, not harsh and disjointed; melodic, not full of pain.

They sound like her. Like the way she’s supposed to be.

We don’t know what you want from us, but let’s talk. All of us. Maybe we can help you find your way.

Voice of the Contrarian:
She doesn’t sound messy anymore, though. At least somebody here feels put together.

Unlike us, you think wryly, with twin sounds of agreement from the others.

Voice of the Hero:
And forward we go. We shouldn’t keep her waiting.

The Princess was right. The stairs aren’t hostile anymore, not too harsh nor too soft nor branching off into too many diverging paths to keep track of. It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for you to find yourself in the basement proper, standing in front of the Princess themselves. Herself.

Voice of the Contrarian:
That was easy compared to last time. Just stairs! No weird fuzzy stuff or nonsense trying to pull us apart.

Voice of the Hero:
Yeah. That wasn’t so bad.

The Princess gazes at you quietly for a few moments, eyes roving over your form.

So you didn’t bring the knife. After all the lives we’ve lived together and all the lives we haven’t, you somehow found a way to move outside of the script.
Are we missing a page?

She sounds so lost, so confused, yet so hopeful still. Like she can’t imagine a world where you make the wrong choice for the two of you, though you’ve definitely both seen many worlds where you have.

She would probably reprimand you for thinking that. You did your best with what you had, she would say. There are no wrong choices. No premature endings.

Only fresh starts, and new beginnings.

You come closer, each step slow and measured, ready to back away immediately if she shows any sign of discomfort. But she doesn't. Her many faces are all different, but each welcomes you in their own way.

You lower yourself to your knees in front of her, clasping your hands together in your lap. They do not hold a blade.

You:
I never got the chance to talk to you before you were taken away. Not you you, at least. I'm sorry for what I did.

The Princess’s many faces soften.

It's okay. No hard feelings. In a way, you helped us become a version of her, but we weren't very good at it. I don't think a conversation with us then would have been very insightful.
That's probably why we were taken away. That's all we had to offer you. It was time to change again.

Voice of the Contrarian:
After all we did, she's just- forgiving us? Just like that? …You know, that means a lot.

It does. It does mean a lot.

You sit in silence for a few moments, unsure of what to say next, before curiosity compels you to ask something.

You:
Are you… the same as you are out there?

She certainly hasn't been acting like it. The Shifting Mound was confident and domineering, her divine spirit shining from within her like the sun. This Princess has her likeness, but is gentle and soft-spoken, her spirit flickering and glowing warmly from within her like a campfire.

You may care deeply for the Shifting Mound, but you do not trust her. This Princess… This Princess is different.

Yes… we think. We're kind of like a shadow. Out there, every part of us is blended together into one huge idea, a big wave of unyielding change crashing against the world.
But in here, we're fractured. Small. Still a little more separate than we'd like to be, our instincts still trying to pull us in different directions.

Voice of the Contrarian:
That's kind of like us, isn't it?

Voice of the Hero:
Yeah… we really are the same.

Your chest tightens with a wave of emotion- though exactly what emotion that is, you're not sure. It hurts, but you don't want to let it go.

You:
I don't want to be a god.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Hard agree. Seems overrated. Too much pressure.

The Princess gazes at you with sad eyes, fond eyes, knowing eyes.

But that's what you've always been. Even now. You can't put aside such an important part of who you are, and neither can we.
So you might as well embrace it.

You know perfectly well how irrational you're being, but it's too late for you to do that. If you were willing to embrace your godhood, you would have accepted the Shifting Mound's offer in the first place.

Hero and Contrarian are quiet. You can tell that they both have things they want to say, but they're letting you think this one through for yourself.
You don't need to do much thinking, though. Really, you've always known what you want. All that's left to do is ask.

You:
What if we just… leave?

The Princess stiffens in surprise, and you feel Contrarian’s satisfied grin.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Oh, he'd hate that. So you should do it! Even if he isn't here anymore, it's the spirit of the thing.

Wheels are turning visibly behind the Princess's many eyes as she closes them in contemplation. Her words are slow, reflective, as she struggles to comprehend what you're implying.

Leave? But… what would happen if we left with you? Would we exist inside ourselves? Are you sure you want to find out if that's possible, or what that would mean for you?
Is that what you want?

You've never been more sure of anything.

Carefully, you reach out and take one of her hands in yours. It feels right, almost like the handle of your pristine blade that fits perfectly in your palm- but no. This isn't death, or pain, or suffering. This is life. Joy.

This is love. All of you agrees.

After a moment of hesitation, she turns her hand a little and laces her fingers with yours.

After so many iterations, so many different versions of us clashing and coming together and clashing again… leaving with you feels like all we ever really wanted.

Your heart feels ready to burst, but for once, it's in a good way. The best way. You've never held this much joy inside you before. You think that no one ever has.

Voice of the Hero:
Honestly, I… think I'm going to stay right here. Whatever you're doing right now, wherever you're going, it- feels like it's for just the two of you.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Yeah. I think we've done our job.

...What?

You:
[I get the feeling you're only saying that because you don't want to feel like third wheels.]
[You're serious? You… you don't want to come with me?]
[Bullshit. You're coming, and so is everyone else.]
[I don't want to just leave you here. It wouldn't feel right.]

Chapter Text

You:
[I get the feeling you're only saying that because you don't want to feel like third wheels.]
[You're serious? You… you don't want to come with me?]
[Bullshit. You're coming, and so is everyone else.]
[I don't want to just leave you here. It wouldn't feel right.]

You:
I get the feeling you're only saying that because you don't want to feel like third wheels.

Honestly, who do they think they're fooling? You three are quite literally sharing a headspace. If they're really wanting to stay behind, then they shouldn't be feeling so damn sad about it.

Voice of the Contrarian:
What? No!

Voice of the Hero:
I mean… kind of.

You can't help but laugh out loud, and several of the Princess’s faces give you amused looks.

What's so funny?

You:
My voices think that we wouldn't want them to join us.

The Princess laughs too, gently tapping the side of your head.

You are as much a part of my hero as he himself is, little ones. None of my facets would feel it right if we left you behind, and I know that he would not either.

The voices are clearly taken aback, but you don't care. If they think you're willing to leave them behind without a second thought, then they've got another thing coming.

Voice of the Hero:
…You really mean it.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Of course he does! Didn't I say that he could never bear parting with us?

Voice of the Hero:
No. You didn't.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Yeah, I knew I'd be proven right. He needs us! We're quite literally part of him, of course he needs us.

Voice of the Hero:
I get the feeling you're convincing yourself more than you are me.

Voice of the Contrarian:
It's okay, mate. We'll work on those self-worth issues together. We'll have all the time in the world, after all!

Your face twitches as you force yourself to hold back another laugh. The Princess gently squeezes your fingers.

Are you ready to leave?

You:
Almost. I'm just not sure how to find the rest of them.

She smiles at you, and you get the distinct feeling that she sees you. All of you; every single broken, flawed, fragmented part of you. She sees them, and she loves them all.

If you believe that they will find their way back to you, then they will.

Of course you believe. They're parts of you; annoying, infuriating, incredibly difficult parts of you, to be sure, but they've been with you through so much. Maybe it won't be immediate, but they'll always find their way back to you, and to her.

No matter what.

Chapter Text

You:
[I get the feeling you're only saying that because you don't want to feel like third wheels.]
[You're serious? You… you don't want to come with me?]
[Bullshit. You're coming, and so is everyone else.]
[I don't want to just leave you here. It wouldn't feel right.]

You:
You're serious? You… you don't want to come with me?

You're not entirely sure how they've managed to shock you like that when you're all quite literally sharing a headspace. You can tell it had pained them to say it, but what you can't tell is why they had decided to say it at all.

Voice of the Hero:
No, it- it's not that, I just… you don't need us anymore, do you? You're leaving with the Princess. There's no more hard choices for us to help you make.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Yeah, as much as I'd like to leave this place, we'd just slow you down. Get in the way of your happily-ever-after, y’know?

You shake your head, briefly unable to speak. The Princess touches the side of your face, turning it to look at her.

What's wrong?

You:
My voices think that we wouldn't want them to come with us.

The Princess sighs as her many eyes sadden, gently running a thumb under the corner of your eye. It comes away damp.

You are as much a part of my hero as he himself is, little ones. Though you are certainly free to stay behind if you want, none of my facets would feel it right if we left you, and I know that he would not either.

There are a few moments of quiet as you lean into her hand, your heartbeat slowing as your eyes close of their own accord. You're so very tired. You don't want to hurt anymore; you just want to be safe, with the people you care about. All of them.

Voice of the Hero:
You're… You really still want us around?

Voice of the Contrarian:
-To be honest, I thought he'd be glad to lose all the extra noise.

Voice of the Hero:
Well, apparently not! He's crying!

Hero's voice cracks, sounding uncharacteristically panicked. You can't help but give a weak chuckle.

You:
Yes, of course I still want you around. I thought that'd be obvious.

Voice of the Hero:
But not like… all of us, right? I- look, I'm really sorry, but I just wouldn't feel right leaving the others behind.

He sounds incredibly guilty, but you can tell he won't budge on that stance. Nor would you want him to. It's part of what makes Hero Hero.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Dunno if I'd want to leave this guy here stuck with just those other clods, either. You've- you've got the Princess, don't you? You won't be alone.

His voice is tentative and apologetic in a way you've never known him to be. Apparently they've both missed the part where you want all of the people you care about to be safe and together.

You blink away the blurriness in your eyes and shift your focus back to the Princess.

You:
I only have two of my voices with me. Is there a way to get the rest of them back?

She smiles at you softly, and takes your other hand.

Of course there is. There is always a way if you believe.
You taught me that.

Voice of the Hero:
…He really does mean it.

The words are breathy and disbelieving, but fond. You can tell that Hero's starting to feel awful for thinking so little of you, but you don't blame him for it.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Really? You sure you want us all mucking around in here at once?

There's a smile growing in his voice, like he already knows the answer. And he does.

You:
There's probably something wrong with me, but yes. I do.

Contrarian and Hero both laugh at that, and the Princess gives you a fond look like she can hear them. Maybe she can.

Chapter Text

You:
[I get the feeling you're only saying that because you don't want to feel like third wheels.]
[You're serious? You… you don't want to come with me?]
[Bullshit. You're coming, and so is everyone else.]
[I don't want to just leave you here. It wouldn't feel right.]

You:
Bullshit. You're coming, and so is everyone else.

Your words are rather harsh, but you feel it's justified. Do Hero and Contrarian really think that you'd just leave everyone here without a second thought? Do you seem that hard-hearted to them? That uncaring?

Voice of the Contrarian:
…Huh. Well, guess that settles that! Come on, boys. Can't keep the Princess waiting too long.

Voice of the Hero:
Wait, hang on- we're all coming? What’s that supposed to mean?

You scoff, covering up the edge of hurt that bites into you. You’re starting to wonder if Hero is being dense on purpose.

You:
I said what I said. Everyone’s coming with us.

Your voice softens against your will at Hero’s stunned silence. The Princess is looking worried, rubbing your hand with her thumb comfortingly.

You:
I want all of us to be free, together. Do you really think I wouldn't?

There’s another long moment of silence as you wait for an answer. The Princess gives your hand two quick squeezes, and you quickly loosen your own tightening grip. It was hurting her. You’re so tired of hurting the people you care about.

What’s wrong?

You:
My voices think that we wouldn't want them to come with us.

The Princess sighs, one of her other hands coming up to trail across your forehead. The tension in your shoulders begins to bleed out as you lean into the gentle touch. An instance of peace, one that you can feel Hero and Contrarian also cherish.

…Does Hero really think that you’d keep this gift of newfound peace from the others?

May I speak to them?

You nod slowly, unsure of what the Princess has planned. She gives you a reassuring smile, and you smile back, just a little. You do trust her, after all.

Listen to me, little ones. While you are certainly free to stay behind if you want, none of my facets would feel it right if we left you, and I know that my hero would not either. You are as much a part of him as he himself is. We all treasure you.

Voice of the Contrarian:
I was already on board with the whole ‘leaving together’ plan, but I’m definitely on board now.

Voice of the Hero:
I thought- your whole thing was that you did whatever people don’t want you to do.

Contrarian snorts, audibly rolling his eyes at Hero’s half-hearted tone.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Look, mate, I may enjoy getting under people’s skin every now and then, but even I’m not gonna turn down an offer like that. She said she treasures us! She actually wants us around!
Now stop acting like you can’t understand what’s going on and apologize to the big guy.

Hero’s quiet for a few beats, and you feel his shame.

Voice of the Hero:
…I thought that you wouldn’t want us around. I thought that we’d just get in between you and the Princess, and you’d hate us for it.
We’re only here to help you make the hard decisions, right? There aren’t any more of those to make. You don’t need us.

You’re left speechless for a second or two before your shock abruptly shifts into anger. You let go of the Princess’s hands before your talons can gouge into them instead of your own palms, slamming your eyes shut and directing every bit of that fire inward.

You:
Don’t need you, my ass. You've been my only f**king ounce of sanity from the beginning of all this shit! Why is it so hard to understand that I care about you?!

Hero recoils, and you almost feel guilty. Almost.

Contrarian, on the other hand, gives a mildly impressed whistle without sounding bothered in the slightest.

Voice of the Contrarian:
He's started swearing, mate. I'd watch what I say next if I were you.
Or don't, it could be funny watching him try to strangle a voice in his head.

Voice of the Hero:
Not helping.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Eh, not trying to.
Then again, we should probably get this wrapped up. We don't want to worry the Princess too much over your self-worth issues.
Oh, and by the way, big guy-

His tone shifts into something much more genuine.

Voice of the Contrarian:
This idiot’s being dense, but I hear you. I care about you too.

It's rather hypocritical of you to be so taken aback at those words from Contrarian when you just got angry at the same thing from Hero, and you know it. You feel Contrarian smirking as Hero gives a weak chuckle.

Voice of the Hero:
Heh. It is a bit dizzying, isn’t it.
But- that's not an excuse. I'm sorry. Really, I am. I shouldn't have made those assumptions about you without talking it through first.

You exhale slowly and dip your head, silently accepting his apology. There's definitely more to discuss on that front, but it can be left for another time.

Finally, you open your eyes and meet gazes with the Princess once again. Most of her seems tense with worry, aside from one or two of her faces that are raising their eyebrows at you impatiently.

Are you alright?

You nod, and she relaxes, taking your hands in hers again.

That’s good. Now, have you all decided what you want to do?

Voice of the Hero:
I think so.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Damn right. Now we just need to dig up everyone else from wherever they’re hiding. Easy!

You huff at him in mild annoyance for directing your attention to that very relevant topic, before addressing the Princess.

You:
Yeah, but- right now I only have two of my voices with me. Do you have any idea how to get the others back?

The Princess smiles at you, reassuringly, warmly, mischievously. Now really isn’t the time, but you feel your heartbeat thud against your ribs. She is so very beautiful.

Don’t you remember? Whatever you believe that I can do, I can do.
I can guide the others back to you, if only you believe me to be capable.

It’s almost laughably easy. You know in your heart that she can do anything she sets her mind to; not as the Shifting Mound, not as a vast and nascent goddess, but simply as her.

Chapter Text

You:
[I get the feeling you're only saying that because you don't want to feel like third wheels.]
[You're serious? You… you don't want to come with me?]
[Bullshit. You're coming, and so is everyone else.]
[I don't want to just leave you here. It wouldn't feel right.]

You:
I don't want to just leave you here. It wouldn't feel right.

Hero and Contrarian hadn’t enjoyed saying what they had, you can tell, but there's resolve there along with the sadness. They really do think they should stay behind.

However, as much as you may respect them and their agency, you also don’t think you can let them go without resistance.

Voice of the Hero:
Yeah… We have been through a lot together, haven’t we?

Voice of the Contrarian:
Too much, really. I’ll be happy to finally get a break from all that.

You:
But what are you going to do if you don’t come with me? Just- hang around here forever?

Whenever you’ve envisioned the end of all of this, it’s always taken place someplace safe, peaceful, and happy. You don’t want to picture your voices living out the end in an empty, unchanging cabin without the Princess, or- you’ll admit it- without you.

Voice of the Hero:
I’m sure I’ll be able to find the others. You don’t have to worry about me being stuck with just this one for the rest of eternity.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Uh, I’m sorry, I am a delight. The big guy’ll back me up on that, won’t you, big guy?

You try to chuckle, but it comes out strangled. The Princess looks worried, reaching out to tilt your chin up so that your gaze meets hers.

What’s wrong, hero?

You tense slightly, averting your eyes. That’s Hero’s name, not yours.

You:
My voices don't want to come with us.

You feel guilt eating at you for bringing it up, but- can she convince them to stay?

(Should either of you bother trying? Isn’t it wrong to try to force your will on another, even if that other is technically yourself? What if you can’t find the rest of your voices, would it be right to ask Hero and Contrarian to leave everyone else? Would you be able to live with yourself if anyone was left behind?)

The Princess's expressions fall, and she sighs. Her hand holding yours squeezes it comfortingly.

And you wish they would?

You nod, and you can feel your voices’ surprise.

Voice of the Hero:
R-really? I thought that…

He trails off, and Contrarian continues for him.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Honestly, we thought you’d appreciate some proper quiet around here for once.

You huff a wry laugh.

You:
I’ve had enough quiet for lifetimes. Is it really so surprising that I care enough about you to want you to stay?

Voice of the Hero:
Uh…

Voice of the Contrarian:
Huh. I guess that makes sense.
Y’know what, what the hell! If the Princess doesn’t object, I’ll tag along.

Voice of the Hero:
Wait!

He sounds and feels desperate, and some of that must bleed through in your expression. The Princess, patiently waiting for you to continue your conversation with her, squeezes your hands again.

Voice of the Hero:
You’re not- going to leave everyone else here, are you? Because I-
I… wouldn’t feel right, leaving without them.

Your heart aches with sympathy, and your mind sharpens with determination. You refocus your gaze back onto the Princess.

You:
I only have two of my voices with me. Can you help me get the others back?

Her form relaxes, and she smiles at you.

Of course I can. All you need to do is believe me able.

Voice of the Hero:
She… she really wants us around?

As if the Princess heard him, she lightly taps your forehead.

You are as much a part of my hero as he himself is, little ones. The end would not feel complete without you here to witness it.

You smile a little at Hero's sudden bashfulness. Contrarian snickers good-naturedly.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Watch out, mate. We don't want the big guy getting jealous.

You:
Like you can talk, you hypocrite. You haven't been subtle either.

Voice of the Contrarian:
Oh, would you look at the time! We really need to get going. As soon as possible. Now, preferably.

You and Hero both snort with laughter, and the Princess joins in.

Chapter Text

Hands clasped together, you and the Princess leave the basement behind for the last time.
It's quiet as you ascend, a comfortable silence filling a space that used to be flooded with violence and words and noisy thoughts.

Voice of the Hero:
We're really doing this. We're- wow. We're really leaving.

Voice of the Contrarian:
‘Course we are. I never doubted us for a second.

Well… maybe some noisy thoughts stuck around.

At the top of the stairs, the Princess stalls, eyes fixed on the cabin door.
You feel her hand tremble in yours. She's unsure of herself for the first time in her long and short existence.

She has no part to play anymore, and she knows this. All of her knows this. And yet all of her still is.

And then she crosses the room to the door leading outside, pulling you excitedly with her.

She hesitates just before reaching out to open it, and shifts to look up at you.

We can feel the threads of all the stories we've told together, all pulling us back down the stairs and into those chains where we know the outcome of everything that could ever come to pass.

One of her faces’ eyes crinkle in a smile, another’s eyes fill with tears, one frowns thoughtfully, another bares her teeth in a wild grin, and you feel a rush of love for her. All of her. Every single broken, flawed, fragmented part of her.

It's comfortable there, but it's… confining. We want more. We want whatever might be on the other side of this door. Something new that we'll encounter together, with someone who exists outside of us.
With someone who can see us in a way we can never see ourselves.

You can feel your mind begin to crowd with voices, facets, all the different puzzle pieces that complete you, but for now, they each echo the same thing.

You:
I love you.

And we love you, too.

She places her hand on the door handle, and you place your hand on hers.

The door begins to swing open.