AN: This is a three-part sequel to my oneshot Hokura no Ousama. The reason I have split the stories apart is so that the romance can be considered optional. You don't have to read one or the other but if you're coming to this first then Hokura no Ousama would offer some nice back-story and explain the unique setting in better detail.

Once again, this takes place on my skewed version of AP's mountain summit. It's inaccurate for this universe, but the changes are necessary.

"And that is how change happens. One gesture. One person. One moment at a time."
― Libba Bray, The Sweet Far Thing

Part One: The Hammer Falls Swiftly

The can snapped open with a crisp pop. The hazy warmth of a summer's day still clung to the evening air as Akari, hair still wet from the shower and a limp towel slung across her shoulders, sat on her porch and took her first sip of the low alcohol content draft beer. Her back ached and her palms had grown fresh calluses under her gloves where the handle of her hoe rubbed, yet she still sighed contentedly.

She stretched languidly feeling the tension ease from her shoulders, and drank another great gulp until the delightful numbness took residence in her cheeks and the hard wood planks of the veranda were a comforting solidness beneath her.

Ahead of her fields the sky was a pink and violet blanket draped across the horizon, the Garmon Mountain a proud spire of black amongst a sea of cloud. She smiled fondly at the picture. The island was beautiful in any season but never did it impress her so much as it did after a hard day's work.

Utilizing the teleportation stone was unnatural. The first time Akari had touched the King's gift and been transported down the mountain she had quickly proceeded to empty her stomach and collapse. Her world had been overturned, her senses dizzied; the very idea of ever feeling upright and ordinary again was temporarily rendered an impossibility. The mountain, tall and undisturbed above her, seemed to mock her delicate human digestive system with its stature. She dare not assume it was within his plans for this to happen but she could not deny that the thought had occurred.

After that she decided to use the path only when in a rush and not directly following meal times.

"Ridiculous woman," The King spat fire. He refused to look at her offering, a basket of handsome apples and oranges, and instead focused on her knees which were once again bruised and bleeding.

"It's nothing," she interjected shortly, "I'm thinking of hiring some help to clear the pathway up here."

Distracted from his original concern the King had the sagacity to look troubled, "Why?"

Akari knelt near the hokura ignorant of her gritty knees. She rested her basket and did her best to place the fruit in a happy little line in front of it, wiping away the natural dust that had settled on the shrine's eaves. It was always the same. He never bothered with upkeep, probably refused to look at it at any time other than when she sat there to pray. She would speak to the sprites to take better care of it; if only she could.

"Because the mountain is safe again. It's a shame that I'm the only one who visits."

"This again," he rumbled. "It is unnecessary even for you to visit."

Akari laughed, not at all disturbed by his corrosiveness. "You're just being greedy, you should share the wealth. It's fairly dangerous up here but as beautiful landscapes go it's second to none. Remove the danger and hey presto."

The King scowled and Akari was happy to let him sweat a little longer. She rearranged the fruit meaninglessly, and avoided his hot gaze. Finally, she returned his concern with quick dismissal; clapping her hands together firmly like that was the end of it.

"It's not like you would have to show yourself to anyone."

The air was cooler on the mountain, and thankfully so; during her prayers Akari appreciated the way the breeze ruffled her hair and drifted across her fevered skin. Her concentration slipped only once wondering if he experienced the same sensations.

Please watch over Maya and her new baby.

Did he even grow cold in the winter?

Please help my watermelons grow even larger than last year.

Perhaps she would take up knitting— maybe a scarf?

"You're laughing to yourself."

"I'm not."

The farmland was relatively self-sufficient during these long days. On the condition that she was diligent in her morning tasks the afternoon hours went spare. She could till, or rotate, or prune, but the option was hers. She had a sprinkler that could easily be set up to mist the plantation if the sun became too much but generally she figured what crop that could survive this heat would survive. Her animals spent the hottest hours indoors, dozy and lethargic. And so she often found herself retreating up the mountain for hours at a time. Happy silences, crude conversation; she could always rely on the King to keep things colourful. It was comforting.

She came to rest against his throne, the hard rock pressing into her back and the dry grass beneath her, and he stood some meters away surveying the island with arms folded; a sight that, to Akari, was as natural and familiar as the sun setting at the end of the day.

The fierce orange blaze of a bowing star, obligated to give way to the night sky...In this respect wasn't he more like the sunrise? –Brilliant and conquering –Burning high above all the little people who yielded to its capriciousness.

"You're laughing again."

"I'm not."

The small island settlement may have had their goddess- the water and the earth- but without the sun there would be no using these gifts. In her mind it was simple.

Eventually she stood and he marked her movement with a sharp glance out of the corner of his eye. She didn't bother to dust away the dirt that clung to her bottom as she retrieved her basket and tightened the knots in her boots. She fit herself next to him where the tight edge of the summit seemed as though it would swallow them both, and looked out over the village where the street lamps had begun to light. Viewed from above the streets resembled the threads of a spider's web; the tiny lights like dew drops. It was pretty and quaint. Did he look this way too or further beyond where her human senses couldn't reach?

"Want to come with me?"

It was too absurd for him to even reward her with an answer. A husky breath escaped through his nose in curt dismissal.

She laughed once more, light and surrendering, "Maybe tomorrow."

Tomorrow came and with it heavy rainfall.

The mountain pass was an even more precarious expedition during adverse weather. Rivulets of muddy water ran in vein-like networks, carrying broken bits of twig and branches from the older trees and building deep quagmires.

Hiking in this was reckless even by her standards and yet the teleportation stone was already a good mile or two behind her. No matter how much her queasy stomach now relished in the idea of skipping this part now the way back down had already become unclear. She would have to press on and use it on the way back to make haste towards a hot bath complete with lavender bubbles and a glass of the good stuff. Afterward she would visit the carpenter Dale and the blacksmith Ramsey and get some quotes on repairing the path. The idea hardened her resolve.

Lightning flashed and she counted, a distant rumble of thunder still far enough that she could swallow the nervous lump that threatened to rise in her throat so desperately. The rain was one thing but the storm had not been forecasted. It wouldn't matter to the King; he would scold her all the same. Habit, routine, or any excuse otherwise, she found herself hoping he did.

Lightning struck again, as though tearing through the opposite side of the mountain. She shrieked but didn't hear her own sound. On the pass above her a tree had broken. It wasn't the lightning, it had been too far away, but looking at the tangle of wood she could deduce it had simply cracked under the weight of another. The terrible snapping crash had been enough to rival the ensuing thunder. It slid through the mud undeterred.

Her feet tripped over each other, too slippery to find purchase again. Lightning exploded in blinding forks all around her.

The tree crashed down.

Akari was heavy. All around her was air and feather, like clouds, cradling her deep in its bosom as though she were a stone. The silence filled her ears like cotton wool until at last there was blessed sound.

"Stupid woman,"

Yes, she was.

"You are dead. There is no one to save you in a place no one ventures, no one to check the clocks when you are late to arrive home. No babes to cry in longing when they miss their mother's breast."

A tear slipped free, turning to steam. The heaviness pooled around her heart until she wanted to bawl for her utter helplessness. Instead the voice called her back, demanding.

"You will live because I will it so, but in turn you are indebted to me."

Akari wanted to speak- knew exactly the words- but she couldn't find her tongue. Instead she drifted, accepting, leaning deeper into the cradle where it was infinitely warm and the pain seemed to ease.

Then nothing has changed.

Akari woke up in her bed. The evidence of last night's narrow escape from the wreckage of the mountain was apparent in every ache and bruise, and there were many. She popped and groaned as she slowly pushed herself up and out of the sheets. When she set her feet on the cool unfurnished floorboards she winced at the bloated purple skin that was peeking through crudely wrapped bandaging.

She managed to reach her hoe which lay deserted on the floor nearby; a habit she'd always known was in need of fixing now a gratifying stroke of luck. The tool worked as a crutch to help her reach her boots. She'd been stripped down to her camisole and underwear; last night's muddy clothes were discarded in the sink.

She smiled around a split lip.

He had been here in this very house.

The god had travelled down off the mountain for the first time in countless decades.

It took her longer than she would have liked to lash her feet into the boots but afterward her ankles were stronger; the support of the stiff leather doing most of the work to hold her weight. However with boots on first, her denim shorts were out of the question. The only option in her closet was a plain but charming one-piece, yellow in colour with little in the way of frills- a simple summer dress. She pulled it over her head in one swift motion that made her aches sing and little spots dance behind her eyelids and then she was done with it.

She retrieved the makeshift crutch and left.

The teleportation stone glowed dimly as though it were expecting her. She braced herself, sucked in a shaky breath, and clapped her hand over it. The mountain whipped past.

On the summit the King stood waiting, arms folded, lips tight in a scowl, backed by the setting sun. He did not move to catch her as her stomach turned and she folded over with it, retching dryly.

"You have come for my orders," he said evenly. The tone denoted an instruction rather than a question. Akari wanted to defy him, to have the same usual conversation and eventually thank him for saving her life but her position left her with little authority. She was bowed before him; her body tormented and mind swimming. She nodded with a diffidence she despised, hating her powerlessness.

"You will tend to your farm," he began mysteriously; the force of the light behind him left her squinting, trying to focus, until his features became indiscriminate.

"You will water your crops and feed your village.

You will build your houses and grow old. Before that time you will find a mate and bear many children."

Akari trembled; a sudden overwhelming sense of foreboding gripped her. She wanted him to stop but the heavy golden light of the sun continued to silence her.

"You will not mend the pass. You will not bring trespassers to this place.

You will never come here again."

The sun disappeared behind the horizon and darkness reigned. Released from her spell Akari sobbed.

"I don't understand," she said at length, her voice barely above a whisper. He had told her to stay away before but it had never been like this. It was never a command- it had never been contractual. Had he saved her only to send her away?

He didn't hesitate in answering, "Because I have tired of your foolishness."

That ignited a spark. "You're lying," she realized quietly. The reason was there if she could only reach out to it. His eyes were hard. He didn't even flinch.

"I have nothing to gain in lying."

Suddenly she was flying, hurtling down at a speed humans were never meant to know. Her stomach was a tight knot and her eyes watered. She landed in a burst of flower petals, wailing. When she dared to open her eyes she was at the base of the mountain where the second teleportation stone should have been. Instead there was nothing more than a circle of bare soil where something had once sat. Summer wildflower had cradled her landing though her ankles throbbed maddeningly. Wildflower, she thought, that she couldn't remember being there before.

She clutched at the hoe that had descended with her and stiffly got to her feet, but not before casting one last helpless glare at the mountain above her.