fifteen. video. i'm building an empire & now i'm never gonna look back.

[indispensible]

[Vin was a silent, solitary, curious presence in Amsterdam for the last few days, walking alone through the busiest streets and emptiest neighborhoods. She found she wasn't afraid of crowds anymore during this time, that any residual discomfort she had about masses of people had evaporated when Stark graduated. People are only people, she thinks; they can do ugly things, terrible things, but they are generally comprehensible, no longer something strange that she feels poorly equipped to decipher.]

[The trouble with Amsterdam, though, was that it wasn't home. She found herself thinking (while navigating public transit, then just giving up and walking) of what Spook told her during the glitch, of what he showed her, of Elendel growing, of how she could tend it like the flowers in Zane's garden. Of how it could become a wonder.]

[She wants to become with it. In the end, it's actually a very easy decision.]

[She broadcasts video, one dog at either side of her, the glass butterfly on her shoulder. They'll be coming with her, of course; almost everything else will stay here. She's calm when she speaks, composed, although still clearly unused to too much speaking to too many people.]

I'm leaving.

The reason I came here to the Barge - made a deal with the Admiral - was for my husband. His name is Elend. He died with me, before, and now he'll be alive with me again. Our world that was was a dark place, a decaying place, and now it's growing.

I'm not afraid of what it's capable of becoming anymore. And he's there. That's why I'm going back. I think . . . it might be a good place for wardens to come sometimes, to breathe. I think you'd be welcome there.

I need - if it's possible, for someone to save a message for me. For Nathan Wuornos. Please.

. . . I have weapons that I want to give away. Knives and daggers, metal and glass - I'm keeping the ceramic ones, Zane - and I'll be around for the afternoon, so if anyone wants them, or wants them but needs a lesson. I'll be here. And then I'll go.

That's all. Thank you.

Goodbye.

private; ben

Ben,

I had to leave. I hope you understand. Sometimes it's time for things to happen, and it was time for this to happen.

I want you to know I'll be gone for a while. But sometime, if you want, you should come to Elendel. I'll be alive again, so I can show you our dances, and you can meet people if you want to, or I can just show you the rooftops if you want that instead.

Goodbye. You're very brave. It was good to know you.

- Vin.

Comments

[myironeyes]

It is a good place.

[Because of her, he doesn't say; he confirms it because he has lived there, among its tremulous new beginnings, more than she has.]

I would carry your message.

[indispensible]

It's a good place. It will be even better the longer we work on it. I know.

[She knows. She's excited. She's nervous. She's - she has questions for Marsh, actually, but first, the most important one:]

Do you think he'll come back here? Or if not, that Sazed could--?

[myironeyes]

I think he will.

If Sazed can't, I'd bet Iris can.

[He's not like a lost inmate, after all. It's just a question of time and place.]

[indispensible]

[This makes her feel better. Even if it's the answer she expected, it helps. At some point Marsh transitioned from horrorshow uncle to authority figure, and that's an utterly soothing realization.]

I want to see you before I go.

[myironeyes]

[He wants to see her too. Not that he's going to say it straight out, or anything.]

Come on, then. There's something I've been saving.

[indispensible]

[The part of her that is still a child, that will always be a child, perks up at this. A present. A surprise! She hangs up quickly and comes to Marsh's door, with Mike and Clifford in tow.]

[Knocking loudly, she shifts impatiently from one foot to the other as she waits for him to open up.]

[myironeyes]

It's not locked!

[He's lighting the last of his various lanterns, even though she'd only need one to see by, with tin to clarify any shadows. But it's nicer, he thinks, must be a bit nicer if it's bright.]

[indispensible]

[It is nicer if it's bright. Incongruously, or maybe not, she thinks of Kelsier as she steps inside, how he would like this better, probably. The more light, the less the possibility of being trapped.]

[Her footsteps are light, almost shy, as she closes the door behind her.]

Hello. [A beat, as she considers.] Hello and goodbye.

[myironeyes]

Hello, Vin.

[Aster hops over, bobs hopefully in the vicinity of Vin's hand, asking to have her head petted gently, while Marsh pulls a long bundle out of a cupboard and holds it out. Under the wrappings, it's a parasol, a rather traditional noblewoman's gift in the Final Empire, but all in unprecedented light green lace, meant to scatter dappled garden light anywhere she goes, rather than dark and sturdy to hold back ash. And the pole is central rather than arched to the side, designed to be carried by the same person it shades, rather than a servant: noble and not, past and future, part of each of Vin's worlds.]

I missed your wedding. But - this is better. For your new life.

[indispensible]

[Her hands are occupied petting Aster very gently on the top of the head, but her eyes are all on the parasol. She can see herself with it in the gardens Spook showed her, walking through the streets, spreading green wherever she goes. Every time Marsh makes something she thinks it's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.]

[With one last pat of Aster's fluffiest crown feathers, she steps over to Marsh's side, calm and warm, and takes the parasol from his hands into hers, their fingers brushing. Then, clutching it to her breast, she leans up on tiptoe and gives him a kiss on the cheek.]

Thank you. For looking out for me.

[myironeyes]

[Someone had to, he thinks, because Kel loved her dearly but was still the sort of person who'd accidentally lead her into a fight with Inquisitors, and then left her in charge of looking out for everyone else - even if she was so much more by the time he was capable of doing anything like right by her.

Mistborn, in his experience, always need more looking after than they think.

He loops an arm around her strong, slender shoulders, hugging her gingerly enough that the ends of his spikes are not too uncomfortable, tucks her hair unnecessarily behind one ear.]

It has been my honor to know you, Vin Venture.

[indispensible]

[The spikes don't hurt. Marsh, in general, doesn't hurt her very much anymore. Sometimes looking at him aches a little, like worrying a sore tooth, but all the bad memories have been half-swallowed by the good by now. All the beautiful things he's done, the little gestures of perfectly imperfect kindness that make him Kelsier's brother.]

[She rests her head against his shoulder, just for a moment, before lifting her head again into her customary stance of alertness-cum-paranoia. Still, she leans into his touch. Because it's just - nice. A nice thing.]

[She deserves nice things, the kindnesses of people who love her, a life. This is what she earned with her death, with Elend's, with thousands of others just as important: a life. Starting right now.]

Take care of your little bird, [she says, because there are no other words. None in her arsenal, anyway. Her heart flutters delicately in her chest, and she opens the parasol to cover them both from no ash at all, inside Marsh's little room.]

[Good luck.]

[myironeyes]

[It's the closest they've been, he thinks in an almost detached way, since right after the Lord Ruler's death, their shocky wounded stumble away together, thanks to Sazed and a bloody spear, grim and grieving and stunned in the wake of more hope than either of them really quite knew what to do with without Kelsier, despite how they invoked him. And now there's so much more - so much more - and somehow they can.

He can't see the lace in the shadow, but his hands remember the pattern, and he smiles a little at the small whoosh of air as it opens. Aster, who has either learned the word bird, or else just wants serendipitously to be part of moment, flutters onto the top of Vin's head and drops a little white honeysuckle in her hair, cheeping proudly. Marsh's smile twitches a little wider.]

I think she takes care of me.

[He takes the little flower and tucks it more securely behind her ear, then pats Aster approvingly, then Vin's nose, teases softly.]

You make sure that young man of yours knows Death and God are still looking out for you. Kelsier said he was alright for a noble, but it's really something every young man should know.

[And it's even a little bit true, in the world all of them made. How about that.]

[indispensible]

[She squirms at the attention, still so unused to it. What she's more unused to is feeling so comfortable, as if the world can't get at her. It's being near Marsh that does it, she realizes wonderingly, and squares her shoulders more tightly so as to fit closer into his arms.]

[Lifting her hand so that Aster can inspect it, she smiles - at the bird, at the parasol, at the ceiling she can see through it. Everything is beautiful.]

I'll tell him to watch his back. But he knows, already. He's married to me, after all.

[myironeyes]

Even so.

[Something about the spikes allows Marsh to pull off supreme equanimity much better than they really should.]

Any plans for more little mistborn terrors?

[Warm, teasing, and absolutely sincere. Someone has to hassle her about it, after all. Marsh has never wanted children, or a niece, or grandnieces and grandnephews. But theirs is a world with a future, now.]

[indispensible]

[She actually pauses to give this serious consideration. She doesn't know, although it would be a lie to say she hasn't thought about it.]

Maybe. I don't know how to be a mother, though. I never really knew mine.

I never knew how to be brave until I had an example. Maybe I should make friends who are mothers and they can show me how to do it.

[This is 68% a joke.]

[myironeyes]

Children need safety, and freedom, and to know they're wanted.

[He doesn't think he managed any of those; but he's had time to think on his regrets.]

I think you'd do alright.

[indispensible]

I keep thinking . . . I am going somewhere that's safe. Really safe.

I don't know how to be safe, Marsh. Do you?

[myironeyes]

You know how to protect.

The rest...comes more gradually.

[Sometimes; sometimes not.]

[indispensible]

[She's about to protest again that she doesn't know how. But then she looks at him and realizes: he believes she can do it.]

[That's very reassuring, somehow.]

[Delicately, but with strength, she shuts the parasol.]

Then I should get started.

[myironeyes]

Farewell, then.

[Until they see each other again. They will.]

[indispensible]

Farewell, Marsh. Stay safe and sound.

[The latter more important, and more likely, than the former.]

[She leans her head against him, just for a moment, and then is gone and out the door.]