Work Text:
I looked in the mirror to see what I expected: a deformed, writhing mass of a monstrosity that can only be born from two hundred children murdered in their own bed to form an angel that can reach the very depths of hell. Instead, all I saw was my own face, plain and sharp with angles inherited from no other than my parents, who had committed that genocide. My very human face was in the reflection, as it was the day before and the day before that, and all of it was me, that abomination. In it caused a terror so raw and unimaginable, and after that I quietly put on the face paint that was—still—me.
All of it was always me. And because you continued to live, it was you. It was us, Gideon-and-Harrowhark; Harrowhark-and-Gideon, us two for all of eternal time.