Categories > Comics > Fables > The Patchwork Quilt
[003] Ends -- Out With a Bang
0 reviewsA collection of stories I've written for fanfic100 about Snow White. Since it's fanfic100, I'm gathering several of them here to avoid cluttering the section. Some gen, some Snow/Bigby. There's ...
0Unrated
The problem with upgrading to Mundy weaponry to take out the Adversary, they found, is that the Adversary was also left free to upgrade. They hadn't known the wooden soldiers were asking about bombs, even back then. It might not have made a difference.
But the bigger armies came that time, demanding complete surrender and for all prisoners to report immediately to prison camps in the Homelands. Demanding the Mundys, even. Thier governments had varied reactions, some complying out of shock, some joining arms to fight back. Fabletown resisted completely, preparing for anything. They hadn't prepared for this.
After the deadline for surrender passed, the prisoners were shipped back to the homelands along with the soldiers, sealing the portals behind them. All of them.
The Mundys found the bomb, then. One of their bigger nuclear warheads, acquired on the black market from some unknown organization that was perfectly happy to accept a truckload of gold and fine gems as payment. It had been layered with spell upon spell by his finest magic workers, and was counting down. No power, Mundy or Fable, could stop it. Not diffuse it, not relocate it to a safe distance, not dampen its destructive power. It would crack the Earth like a nut.
Fabletown Handled Things, as always. Everyone on the 13th floor working together, a weak portal was formed. Quite an achievement on such short notice. All they knew was that it lead somewhere livable and relatively safe, and that it wasn't in the Homelands or the Mundy world.
They didn't tell the Mundys of this, who were largely panicking and attempting to work out their own escape plans. There wasn't enough power to get more than a fraction of Fabletown's citizens through, let alone any Mundys.
Snow found a quiet spot in the back of the Business Office, away from the crowds desperately hoping to make it through in time. A small chamber off one of the branching passageways, comfortable and isolated, and difficult to find unless you knew precisely what you were looking for.
It was there that Bigby found her. No words were needed, they simply held each other in silence for some time, holding strength against the darkness.
Eventually, he spoke. "So why aren't you up there with the others? Considering everything, they'd push you to the front of the line."
Snow gave a small laugh and held him closer. "I already made sure Rose and our children got through, and Boy Blue assured me he was only staying long enough to keep the chaos controlled on this side. That's enough."
She pulled back the minimum distance needed to look him in the eye and continued. "They'd want me to lead them again, if I went. And I'd feel obligated to do so."
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I can't go through that again, can't just leave everything behind to go and start from scratch over and over again. And the only reason I can put so much into my work is that I abandon everything else to do so. Hide what I feel, even from myself. I'm tired of running, and I'm tired of hiding."
She reaches her hand up and caresses his cheek gently, his short beard soft against her skin. "I can't do that anymore. Can't hide from myself. Can't be trapped in my work. I don't want to be alive by sacrificing any hope of living."
He brushes the hair away from her face, thumb pausing briefly over the still unhealed scar just above her temple. Kissing her gently on the forehead, he gives her a small smile. "I'll stay with you, no matter what. Besides, I overheard some of the former Farm residents discussing a campaign to keep our new 'sanctuary' safe by forbidding any big bad wolves from going."
Snow gives a small laugh and presses herself against his chest. "They're doomed."
A gentle fingertip under her chin brings her head up, and Bigby looks her in the eye. He speaks softly; none need hear it but her.
"I love you, Snow. Always."
"Love you, Bigby," she says quickly, before pressing her lips to his, kissing him with every ounce of passion she's held back for nearly six centuries.
Clothing is shed, limbs entwine, and the relentless countdown means nothing to the spirits entwining, bound by something stronger than life and death, never to part.
But the bigger armies came that time, demanding complete surrender and for all prisoners to report immediately to prison camps in the Homelands. Demanding the Mundys, even. Thier governments had varied reactions, some complying out of shock, some joining arms to fight back. Fabletown resisted completely, preparing for anything. They hadn't prepared for this.
After the deadline for surrender passed, the prisoners were shipped back to the homelands along with the soldiers, sealing the portals behind them. All of them.
The Mundys found the bomb, then. One of their bigger nuclear warheads, acquired on the black market from some unknown organization that was perfectly happy to accept a truckload of gold and fine gems as payment. It had been layered with spell upon spell by his finest magic workers, and was counting down. No power, Mundy or Fable, could stop it. Not diffuse it, not relocate it to a safe distance, not dampen its destructive power. It would crack the Earth like a nut.
Fabletown Handled Things, as always. Everyone on the 13th floor working together, a weak portal was formed. Quite an achievement on such short notice. All they knew was that it lead somewhere livable and relatively safe, and that it wasn't in the Homelands or the Mundy world.
They didn't tell the Mundys of this, who were largely panicking and attempting to work out their own escape plans. There wasn't enough power to get more than a fraction of Fabletown's citizens through, let alone any Mundys.
Snow found a quiet spot in the back of the Business Office, away from the crowds desperately hoping to make it through in time. A small chamber off one of the branching passageways, comfortable and isolated, and difficult to find unless you knew precisely what you were looking for.
It was there that Bigby found her. No words were needed, they simply held each other in silence for some time, holding strength against the darkness.
Eventually, he spoke. "So why aren't you up there with the others? Considering everything, they'd push you to the front of the line."
Snow gave a small laugh and held him closer. "I already made sure Rose and our children got through, and Boy Blue assured me he was only staying long enough to keep the chaos controlled on this side. That's enough."
She pulled back the minimum distance needed to look him in the eye and continued. "They'd want me to lead them again, if I went. And I'd feel obligated to do so."
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I can't go through that again, can't just leave everything behind to go and start from scratch over and over again. And the only reason I can put so much into my work is that I abandon everything else to do so. Hide what I feel, even from myself. I'm tired of running, and I'm tired of hiding."
She reaches her hand up and caresses his cheek gently, his short beard soft against her skin. "I can't do that anymore. Can't hide from myself. Can't be trapped in my work. I don't want to be alive by sacrificing any hope of living."
He brushes the hair away from her face, thumb pausing briefly over the still unhealed scar just above her temple. Kissing her gently on the forehead, he gives her a small smile. "I'll stay with you, no matter what. Besides, I overheard some of the former Farm residents discussing a campaign to keep our new 'sanctuary' safe by forbidding any big bad wolves from going."
Snow gives a small laugh and presses herself against his chest. "They're doomed."
A gentle fingertip under her chin brings her head up, and Bigby looks her in the eye. He speaks softly; none need hear it but her.
"I love you, Snow. Always."
"Love you, Bigby," she says quickly, before pressing her lips to his, kissing him with every ounce of passion she's held back for nearly six centuries.
Clothing is shed, limbs entwine, and the relentless countdown means nothing to the spirits entwining, bound by something stronger than life and death, never to part.
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