12 Days of Fanfic: "The Matrix" (DegSep) -- "Desires of Christmas Past and Present"
It's been a while since I wrote anything set in the DegSep universe, but it's still one that's dear to my heart, so when crowdog66 requested something from this alternate version of the Matrix 'verse, involving Neo and the Merovingian, I was at one in the same time fumbling for an idea and yet delighted for the chance to write about the One and the Red King of the Exiles. Then I was listening to Transsiberian Orchestra's song "Find Our Way Home", and this one came to mind...
On the Third Day of Christmas, the Matrix Refugee fanficced for ye:
One Chateau Christmas party,
One American Gods fic,
and An A.I. fic with David decorating his first Christmas tree.
"Desires of Christmas Past and Present"
by "Matrix Refugee"
Author's Note: Before I started playing the Matrix Online MMORPG, I was deeply involved in a fan-created Matrix RPG based on the "Degrees of Separation" series of Neo/Smith fics written by the incomparable Laure E. Smith. This series set off an intricate and quirky series of storylines bringing a wide range of epic fantastical elements and complex relationship geometries. This fic is set six months after the end of the Descent into Hell arc, in which the Merovingian was captured by demonic programs and hauled into the Matrix's equivalent of the Recycle Bin, from which he was rescued by a team of operatives, led by Neo and Smith, which included Blaise de Merovee, the Merovingian's almost grown half-human son and heir. Text in brackets [Like this] imply a mind to mind conversation.
Disclaimer: I don't own the "Matrix" series, its characters, concepts or other indicia, which belong to the Wachowski Brothers, Paul Chadwick, Warner Brothers, Village Roadshow Pictures, Joel Silver Productions, Burlyman Entertainment, Monolith, Sony Online Entertainment, etc.
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Neo attended the Christmas party at the Chateau as a courtesy to the Merovingian, but as always, he felt out of place among the glittering throng of corporate CEOs and foreign dignitaries and their hangers-on gathered in the great hall. A thousand candles glittered in the chandeliers overhead and in scones and on stands along the walls. Garlands of greenery and clusters of holly hung festooned across the ceiling and around the windows.
Neo accompanied Blaise for a time as the Merovingian's heir mingled with the guests. The elder Merovee was somewhere in the crowd, but Neo made no effort to seek him out, even with his gaze alone. He knew any thoughts and memories of past feelings that crossed his mind would likely transmit to Smith across the mental bond that they shared, and he did not want to incite the former Agent's irritation.
The polite chatter wore on Neo's composure and he felt increasingly awkward replying to the questions of the guests. As the head of a Japanese pharmaceutical company and his daughter moved on into the crowd, Blaise sensed the One's unease and took him aside for a moment. "You don't have to trail me all night. Most of these introductions must be meaningless to you after the second or third one," Blaise said with a smile.
"Thanks," Neo said, replying with his own small smile of relief and appreciation and he moved on.
He helped himself to a bottle of beer at the open bar, waving aside the glass which servant in the red and gold livery of the Chateau offered to him and he made his way to the shadows on the balcony which ringed the great hall, choosing to watch the flow of the crowd below from the vantage point it afforded.
He had just taken a pull from the bottle, when he heard an uneven footstep behind him and then someone's low dull cough.
"These fetes always wore at your spirit, cher Une," a rich baritone voice said behind him. Neo turned and found the Merovingian standing behind him, leaning on the thick mahogany stick which rarely left his side since his recovery. The wounds he had suffered during his sojourn in hell had left him lame and sapped at his energy. His black garments caused his lean form to blend into the shadows, except for where the diffused light from the candles below caught on the gold threads in the maroon brocade vest he wore under his frock coat that evening.
"I would have thought you'd be down there with Blaise, mingling with the crowd," Neo said.
The Merovingian shook his head. "These days I must needs conserve my strength. Besides, my star is setting and my son's has begun a meteoric rise: his light eclipses my waning light."
"I wouldn't be so dramatic about that," Neo said, with a hint of a smile. "Your wounds are bothering you tonight?" A glance at the elder Exile's unparsed code showed mild inflammation at his wrists and ankles, the sites where the demons had strung their captive up on hooks and left him to hang thus during his damnation to the Matrix's answer to the Recycle Bin. Neo had tried without much success to heal these injuries, but no amount of attempting to recode the Exile's simulated flesh seemed to achieve the desired effect.
"It seems my sojourn in the world of the damned has caused me to take on the role of an invalid," the Merovingian replied with a wry smile, but a shadow of pain and the memory of even worse suffering passed through his green-grey eyes. He looked out over the crowd, his wry twist of a smile fading slowly. "You could have left me there," he said, his voice lowered so that Neo alone could hear it. "I deserved it for the crimes I have committed against so many, including those nearest to me. Including you and the Other."
"That's all in the past," Neo said.
The Merovingian looked at him straight on. "It is, but when I hung there on those iron hooks in the hall of the damned, I had time to think on all that I had done in life. Part of my torment was to relive all the harm I had caused and to see the effects it had wrought. Add to that the sense of despair which that place inflicts upon the minds and hearts of all who enter it. Now endure all that along with the thought that you can never again leave that place and make amends for the crimes you are forced to recall."
"But we discovered what had happened and we were able to free you," Neo said.
The Merovingian managed a small smile. "And for that I am grateful. Now that you won back the prize of my life, I have made the effort to make amends where I could." He looked away. "There are those who will not accept it, who will have none of it. A time was when this would have angered me, but that time has passed. I do not blame them: they saw the monster behind the mask I wore for so many ages, and that is a sight which does not so easily leave the minds of some."
"Don't be hard on yourself," Neo said, his sympathy genuine but with the full knowledge that this wounded wolf side to the old program could well be another mask. But he had heard otherwise from Blaise, that his father had been making the effort to seek out former business associates he had cheated, and women whom he had wronged in an effort to make amends with them and offer restitution where he could.
"So do you have it in you, Neo?" the Merovingian asked.
"To forgive you for what you did to Smith and to me?"
"Yes." One syllable, hardly more than a whisper. He looked as frail as that sound: his lean face thinner than before and his red-brown hair now heavily threaded with silver.
"Of course: all that is in the past. Time took the edges off the pain in those memories."
He sensed a flicker of interest in the old program, and despite his own waning youth and the Merovingian's own frailness, that interest still triggered a response in him.
"Might I kiss you but one last time and so seal our reconcilliation?" the Merovingian asked.
Neo sensed Smith's irritation flare, but he quietly closed off the connection between himself and the former Agent. "Of course you may," Neo replied.
The Merovingian put his hand behind Neo's head, sinking his long fingers into the One's still dense hair, only lightly flecked with silver. He leaned in and gently kissed Neo, first on his left cheek, then on his right. He paused, shifting as if he would lean in and kiss Neo on the mouth, but he seemed to hesitate, as if he were waiting for Neo to choose to close that gap between them.
Neo put a hand on the Merovingian's shoulder and tilting his head, laid his lips over the older male's mouth. He felt the Exile's lips part slightly under his and felt him breath a sigh before he withdrew. The kiss lacked the depth of a soul-kiss, but it had the intensity of one; to have gone any further would have spoiled the moment somehow.
At that moment, Blaise and Remiel approached, the former angel clad in a gleaming silvery gown with a short cape which suggested the wings zie had given up. Neo took a step back from the Merovingian, feeling awkward. A smile crossed the elder Exile's face, but he caught a note of something like embarrassment in his eyes.
"I hope we weren't disturbing anything; I hate to intrude on other people's tender moments," Blaise said.
"Only two former paramours reconciling and bidding each other adieu," the Merovingian replied.
"How sweet," Remiel said, then added with a laugh and a dancing look of mischief in hir eyes, "I hope you weren't trying to rekindle old flames: Mrs. Merv might not like that."
Neo looked away, starting to feel a lick of shame run through his heart, but the Merovingian recovered the situation more quickly than he could. "No, perhaps it was a test of the pilot light, but no more than that."
"What we shared, what he offered me, was a long time ago," Neo said.
"You look exhausted, mon pere," Blaise said to his father.
"These days, I always look tired," the Merovingian said with an annoyed rumble.
[You still take pleasure in the touch of that serpent?] Smith spoke.
[He's in no condition to bite.] Neo replied. [It's been almost a year since his capture and descent into hell, but his wounds still have not fully healed.]
[Concern for that creature? All too human.] Smith said and withdrew.
[Would you want me any other way?] Neo jabbed back, with a smile, but Smith said nothing to this, clearly not dignifying it with a reply.
On the Third Day of Christmas, the Matrix Refugee fanficced for ye:
One Chateau Christmas party,
One American Gods fic,
and An A.I. fic with David decorating his first Christmas tree.
"Desires of Christmas Past and Present"
by "Matrix Refugee"
Author's Note: Before I started playing the Matrix Online MMORPG, I was deeply involved in a fan-created Matrix RPG based on the "Degrees of Separation" series of Neo/Smith fics written by the incomparable Laure E. Smith. This series set off an intricate and quirky series of storylines bringing a wide range of epic fantastical elements and complex relationship geometries. This fic is set six months after the end of the Descent into Hell arc, in which the Merovingian was captured by demonic programs and hauled into the Matrix's equivalent of the Recycle Bin, from which he was rescued by a team of operatives, led by Neo and Smith, which included Blaise de Merovee, the Merovingian's almost grown half-human son and heir. Text in brackets [Like this] imply a mind to mind conversation.
Disclaimer: I don't own the "Matrix" series, its characters, concepts or other indicia, which belong to the Wachowski Brothers, Paul Chadwick, Warner Brothers, Village Roadshow Pictures, Joel Silver Productions, Burlyman Entertainment, Monolith, Sony Online Entertainment, etc.
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Neo attended the Christmas party at the Chateau as a courtesy to the Merovingian, but as always, he felt out of place among the glittering throng of corporate CEOs and foreign dignitaries and their hangers-on gathered in the great hall. A thousand candles glittered in the chandeliers overhead and in scones and on stands along the walls. Garlands of greenery and clusters of holly hung festooned across the ceiling and around the windows.
Neo accompanied Blaise for a time as the Merovingian's heir mingled with the guests. The elder Merovee was somewhere in the crowd, but Neo made no effort to seek him out, even with his gaze alone. He knew any thoughts and memories of past feelings that crossed his mind would likely transmit to Smith across the mental bond that they shared, and he did not want to incite the former Agent's irritation.
The polite chatter wore on Neo's composure and he felt increasingly awkward replying to the questions of the guests. As the head of a Japanese pharmaceutical company and his daughter moved on into the crowd, Blaise sensed the One's unease and took him aside for a moment. "You don't have to trail me all night. Most of these introductions must be meaningless to you after the second or third one," Blaise said with a smile.
"Thanks," Neo said, replying with his own small smile of relief and appreciation and he moved on.
He helped himself to a bottle of beer at the open bar, waving aside the glass which servant in the red and gold livery of the Chateau offered to him and he made his way to the shadows on the balcony which ringed the great hall, choosing to watch the flow of the crowd below from the vantage point it afforded.
He had just taken a pull from the bottle, when he heard an uneven footstep behind him and then someone's low dull cough.
"These fetes always wore at your spirit, cher Une," a rich baritone voice said behind him. Neo turned and found the Merovingian standing behind him, leaning on the thick mahogany stick which rarely left his side since his recovery. The wounds he had suffered during his sojourn in hell had left him lame and sapped at his energy. His black garments caused his lean form to blend into the shadows, except for where the diffused light from the candles below caught on the gold threads in the maroon brocade vest he wore under his frock coat that evening.
"I would have thought you'd be down there with Blaise, mingling with the crowd," Neo said.
The Merovingian shook his head. "These days I must needs conserve my strength. Besides, my star is setting and my son's has begun a meteoric rise: his light eclipses my waning light."
"I wouldn't be so dramatic about that," Neo said, with a hint of a smile. "Your wounds are bothering you tonight?" A glance at the elder Exile's unparsed code showed mild inflammation at his wrists and ankles, the sites where the demons had strung their captive up on hooks and left him to hang thus during his damnation to the Matrix's answer to the Recycle Bin. Neo had tried without much success to heal these injuries, but no amount of attempting to recode the Exile's simulated flesh seemed to achieve the desired effect.
"It seems my sojourn in the world of the damned has caused me to take on the role of an invalid," the Merovingian replied with a wry smile, but a shadow of pain and the memory of even worse suffering passed through his green-grey eyes. He looked out over the crowd, his wry twist of a smile fading slowly. "You could have left me there," he said, his voice lowered so that Neo alone could hear it. "I deserved it for the crimes I have committed against so many, including those nearest to me. Including you and the Other."
"That's all in the past," Neo said.
The Merovingian looked at him straight on. "It is, but when I hung there on those iron hooks in the hall of the damned, I had time to think on all that I had done in life. Part of my torment was to relive all the harm I had caused and to see the effects it had wrought. Add to that the sense of despair which that place inflicts upon the minds and hearts of all who enter it. Now endure all that along with the thought that you can never again leave that place and make amends for the crimes you are forced to recall."
"But we discovered what had happened and we were able to free you," Neo said.
The Merovingian managed a small smile. "And for that I am grateful. Now that you won back the prize of my life, I have made the effort to make amends where I could." He looked away. "There are those who will not accept it, who will have none of it. A time was when this would have angered me, but that time has passed. I do not blame them: they saw the monster behind the mask I wore for so many ages, and that is a sight which does not so easily leave the minds of some."
"Don't be hard on yourself," Neo said, his sympathy genuine but with the full knowledge that this wounded wolf side to the old program could well be another mask. But he had heard otherwise from Blaise, that his father had been making the effort to seek out former business associates he had cheated, and women whom he had wronged in an effort to make amends with them and offer restitution where he could.
"So do you have it in you, Neo?" the Merovingian asked.
"To forgive you for what you did to Smith and to me?"
"Yes." One syllable, hardly more than a whisper. He looked as frail as that sound: his lean face thinner than before and his red-brown hair now heavily threaded with silver.
"Of course: all that is in the past. Time took the edges off the pain in those memories."
He sensed a flicker of interest in the old program, and despite his own waning youth and the Merovingian's own frailness, that interest still triggered a response in him.
"Might I kiss you but one last time and so seal our reconcilliation?" the Merovingian asked.
Neo sensed Smith's irritation flare, but he quietly closed off the connection between himself and the former Agent. "Of course you may," Neo replied.
The Merovingian put his hand behind Neo's head, sinking his long fingers into the One's still dense hair, only lightly flecked with silver. He leaned in and gently kissed Neo, first on his left cheek, then on his right. He paused, shifting as if he would lean in and kiss Neo on the mouth, but he seemed to hesitate, as if he were waiting for Neo to choose to close that gap between them.
Neo put a hand on the Merovingian's shoulder and tilting his head, laid his lips over the older male's mouth. He felt the Exile's lips part slightly under his and felt him breath a sigh before he withdrew. The kiss lacked the depth of a soul-kiss, but it had the intensity of one; to have gone any further would have spoiled the moment somehow.
At that moment, Blaise and Remiel approached, the former angel clad in a gleaming silvery gown with a short cape which suggested the wings zie had given up. Neo took a step back from the Merovingian, feeling awkward. A smile crossed the elder Exile's face, but he caught a note of something like embarrassment in his eyes.
"I hope we weren't disturbing anything; I hate to intrude on other people's tender moments," Blaise said.
"Only two former paramours reconciling and bidding each other adieu," the Merovingian replied.
"How sweet," Remiel said, then added with a laugh and a dancing look of mischief in hir eyes, "I hope you weren't trying to rekindle old flames: Mrs. Merv might not like that."
Neo looked away, starting to feel a lick of shame run through his heart, but the Merovingian recovered the situation more quickly than he could. "No, perhaps it was a test of the pilot light, but no more than that."
"What we shared, what he offered me, was a long time ago," Neo said.
"You look exhausted, mon pere," Blaise said to his father.
"These days, I always look tired," the Merovingian said with an annoyed rumble.
[You still take pleasure in the touch of that serpent?] Smith spoke.
[He's in no condition to bite.] Neo replied. [It's been almost a year since his capture and descent into hell, but his wounds still have not fully healed.]
[Concern for that creature? All too human.] Smith said and withdrew.
[Would you want me any other way?] Neo jabbed back, with a smile, but Smith said nothing to this, clearly not dignifying it with a reply.