"My name?" The ancient creature tilted his head to the side, assessing the sincerity of the traveller. It had been lifetimes since anyone had asked him that question. No one cared who he was, not in that sense. Why would they, after the things he had done?
"Yeah. I mean, you do have one, right?"
"Of course I do!" The response was automatic, and perhaps a little too sharp, but the traveller didn't flinch. Just rolled her eyes, and looked at him impatiently.
He closed his eyes, digging through the dark, cramped, warped corners of his mind, searching for the word that had once identified him, but found nothing. Not even a letter remained, and something in him shattered, just a little more.
He hadn't realized there was anything left of him to shatter.
"I don't remember," he admitted quietly. Opened one eye, to see her reaction.
She blinked once, slowly. Frowned, as if she couldn't have possibly heard him right. "You don't remember your own name? How?"
He sank to the ground, into the fog that perpetually surrounded him. "I haven't needed it in some time. As I said... I'm everything wrong with this world." He closed his eyes, willing her to walk away, to leave him in peace. Somehow was not surprised when she came to kneel beside him instead.
The touch of a hand to his arm, however, was definitely a surprise. She was cautious, tentative, and he stared at the point of contact in shock. "I-"
No other words came, and he lapsed into silence, waiting. Her hold on his arm tightened, not uncomfortably so, and she shifted closer to him. "You still need a name." She was firm and gentle all at once, and for the first time, he wandered if this was a trick. A trap, set by one of his enemies, to finally destroy him.
She smiled at him briefly. Ran her thumb over his wrist.
If it was a trap, he didn't care.
She hummed. Considered. "What's something you like?"
The way her hand felt against him, soothing the jagged cracks in his soul, not flinching away from his darkness.
"Flowers," he answered belatedly, and she giggled in surprise. He quite liked that sound, he decided. Wanted to hear more of it. "And... Music."
"I could call you Melody," she teased, eyes sparkling. "Or... Iris?"
He couldn't breathe, suddenly. Couldn't think. A scream echoed in his mind, distant and fading. There was something-a memory?-a lock of hair, a child's laughter, and an overwhelming sense of terror. "No," he choked out, whether to her or to the thoughts, he was not sure.
She did not laugh. Watched him, with gentle eyes far too knowing, and nodded. "Okay," she murmured. "Something else."
She did not speak again immediately. Instead, she traced up and down his arm in a soothing motion, coaxing him out of the cloud enveloping him.
Gradually, his breathing steadied. "Why?" He could not help but ask. Why did he need a name? Why did she care?
"Everyone needs a name." She left no room for argument.
The lingering buzzing under his skin, flitting at the edges of his mind, left him more sure than ever that he had once had a name. Perhaps even some who cared to use it. What happened to them?
An image flickered through his mind: A faded sign, with chipped paint, and blocky letters. "Flynn."
There was something before it, a word he could not quite make out, but that was enough.
"Flynn." He tilted his head up to meet her eyes. "Call me Flynn."
Her smile returned, and she seemed impossibly fond, holding out a hand for him to take. "Flynn."
Hearing it aloud made him all the more certain. Once, that had been part of his name. He tentatively took her hand in his own, waiting for her to flinch at his claws and jagged skin.
"I'm Lucy." She did not bat an eye. "Do you want to come with me?"
He had not left his cave in a lifetime. He was not altogether sure he still could.
"Yes." His voice nearly broke. "Please."
