#BUT it's a little more disappointing lately after the replenishing they did which made the pier literally not even reach the water

[beaversatemygrandma]

With me having to work tomorrow and having to get up at the ass crack of dawn, i have this weird urge to stop by the beach on my way home just to put my feet in the water.

Like. It's right there. I could. ...But how many tourists are there tomorrow? ...And will I even be able to park? ...I really wish that my granddad's beach house wasn't sold and I could park there and walk a half mile to do this. I would. I really would.

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

on ao3

All his life, Jaskier has only wanted to be enough. In forty years, he’s found a lot of people he can't please no matter how hard he tries, but never any who are willing to try in return. He's too loud, too annoying, too much. There are also a startling number of people who want him only as a placeholder - a bed warmer, an entertainer - before quickly ushering him from their lives once they've had their fill. As a child, it was devastating every time he was told to be quiet or to find someone else to talk to. As an adult, he thought he'd grown numb to disinterest or fleeting interest, but then he'd met Geralt.

With Geralt, he thought he had finally found someone who might keep him. Even if it wasn't perfect, even if Jaskier still found himself longing for more, Geralt allowed him to stay. His jabs didn't hurt the way others did and after some time they even started to sound fond coming from his Witcher. And he was truly happy for the first time in a long time.

But good things are not meant to last. Not at least, for Jaskier. And on the top of a mountain north of Barefield, Geralt had proved without a doubt that Jaskier wasn't numb to heartbreak.

But that seems like a lifetime ago, now.

When their paths had crossed again, it was by complete accident. Jaskier had been in Oxenfurt over the winter to regroup after a difficult autumn and he'd headed back out into the wilderness late. It was a routine of sorts, setting out on the road after winter, and he'd followed the Pontar east, heading nowhere in particular. The last person he had been expecting to come across was his Witcher.

But there they both were; Geralt with his child surprise in tow and Jaskier with nothing but the lute on his back and a notebook overflowing with verse after verse of heartbreak. Ciri, at least, had been happy to see him, but it was plain to see Geralt didn't share her enthusiasm. She is the reason for their (somewhat forced) reconciliation, not some change of heart or some grand apology; just a lost little girl clinging to whatever sense of normalcy she can find. And an unwilling father trying to give it to her.

Lucky for him, Jaskier is a familiar face to the young princess and Geralt had agreed when Ciri had asked for him to come along with them. And it's not all bad; travelling with companions is much less lonely than travelling alone and he and Geralt have made things work between them, enough at least, for Ciri's wellbeing.

But there's a feeling Jaskier gets right before he's ousted from someone's life, a tingling sort of ache right in the pit of his stomach, and he's been feeling that for months now.

Spring has faded into summer and their little group carries on. They keep to the path most nights, camping amongst the trees or tucked away under a shelf of rock or in an abandoned cave. Jaskier doesn't know the whole story, but he knows Nilfgaard is looking for Ciri and as good a protector as Geralt is, he's unlikely to defeat an entire Nilgaardian troop should they run into one. So he keeps them away from town unless they need to replenish their supplies or the weather is too bad to allow for sleeping outside. On those occasions, they prepare in advance. Geralt will go ahead and ensure the room is ready and whatever else they need, while Jaskier will wait behind and do what he can to disguise Ciri. She's the most important thing in Geralt's life now and if he can't make amends with the man himself, he'll do what he can to help Ciri. At the very least, it gives him a sense of purpose and keeps him from feeling quite so out of place with them.

Tonight is a camping night. Geralt is asleep already and Ciri appears to be if she isn't, but the grass is damp and cool beneath them and Jaskier can't get comfortable. In the morning, their bedding will be damp at best and that means packing damp bedding and sleeping on it again tomorrow night. He's mulling over the idea of hanging his bedroll over a tree branch and lying directly on the grass - at least it will save him one night of discomfort - when Geralt stirs across from him.

Jaskier looks up, instinctively alert, but Ciri is still peacefully asleep and there doesn't appear to be any sign of danger. Geralt's face is twisted though, pinched tight in pain or fear and Jaskier recognizes the expression. For years, he'd been there to soothe Geralt’s discomfort, to curl up against him and run a hand up his chest until his breathing evened out again and the pain eased from his face. Geralt’s nightmares have never been uncommon, but since joining up with him again, Jaskier has noticed a marked increase of uneasy nights for the Witcher.

But he's no longer in a place to soothe him and so he watches regretfully as Ciri blinks awake and props herself up to look at him. She crawls from her own bedroll and in a practiced motion, slips between Geralt's arms, pressing herself up against his chest. She whispers something that Jaskier can't hear and he squeezes his eyes shut as Geralt hums sleepily against her hair.

He aches to fill that space against him once more, to be able to soothe the turmoil in Geralt’s heart, to give Geralt anything. He used to be the one who could ease his pain, but he's been replaced. And he can't blame Geralt for it; he was never a very good travel companion, but he did try and he'd like to be able to try again, but that doesn't seem to be the way things are going for him.

"Who is she?" Ciri asks, only just loud enough to Jaskier to hear her. "Who's Renfri?"

"I don't know," he breathes, low to keep his voice steady, "Geralt met her before me and he doesn't talk about it."

Ciri makes a disappointed sound and Jaskier doesn't have to be able to see her face to know she's scowling at the man wrapped around her. He would be too. Geralt does so much to protect the ones he loves and yet refuses to accept anything in return. Jaskier understands the frustration and once upon a time, he'd developed a method of tricking Geralt into doing things for himself, making it seem like it was for the good of someone else. He makes a mental note to tell Ciri about it.

Once Ciri and Geralt are settled once more, Jaskier slips from his bedroll, picking it up and hanging it in the hopes that it will dry some before morning. He's awake now, his head swimming with things unsaid and what ifs and he knows he won't sleep any time soon, so there's no point in trying.

He crosses the camp as silently as he can to where the horses are tethered and he settles himself between the thick roots of a tree, leaning back against the trunk. Roach leans down to him, nudging his shoulder and Jaskier looks up to find both of them looking at him, Jaskier's own horse with her head over Roach's back to see what he's doing. She gives a snort of confusion and Jaskier just looks up at her with a forced smile that does apparently nothing to appease her curiosity.

For some time, he just sits there, wondering where exactly he went wrong in his life until eventually, cold and emotionally exhausted, sleep overtakes him.

At first, Jaskier had hoped that this distance between them was just a side-effect of Geralt adjusting to parenthood and he tried to help in any way he could. But he can't teach Ciri to fight and Geralt knows more about herbs and how to use them than he does, and otherwise, Ciri is mostly self-sufficient. Other than her magic, which Jaskier soon learns, she's being trained in as well.

Yennefer blows back into his life in a big way on a sunny afternoon in mid-summer. She seems softer than the last time they'd seen each other and she smiles when she spots Ciri practicing with a wooden sword next to the river. Jaskier has learned well enough in the past not to disturb her, so he keeps quiet and continues with his task of gathering firewood. He hadn't understood at the time, why Geralt had wanted to make camp so early in the day, but it seems clear now that this was an arranged meeting place and he doesn't suspect they'll be leaving again before morning.

So while Geralt is busy with Yen and Ciri, Jaskier may as well make himself useful. Maybe he can't be emotionally available to Geralt the way he used to, but he can still help. So he sets off deeper into the trees, intent on finding enough wood to keep them going for the evening. But when he returns to the smell of smoke and a crackling fire, his heart sinks. As he sets his gathered firewood down, his only solace is that no one seems to have noticed him and he's able to slip away again quietly.

Yen travels with them after that. She doesn't seem concerned about Jaskier's presence and, on occasion, she'll even speak to him without sounding inconvenienced. It's more than she's ever offered in the past and considering his tenuous position with them, Jaskier's almost pleased about it.

But with Yen comes more training for Ciri, this time in magic, which means she has less time to listen to Jaskier play or tell him about her adventures with Geralt. Which is fine; she's still young and she needs to be able to understand her power as much as she needs to be able to fight with a sword. So Jaskier takes another step back.

After the mountain incident, Jaskier had hoped someday that things might go back to normal for him and Geralt. Now, despite Yennefer's improved attitude toward him, their relationship seems tenser than ever. And after a couple of weeks travelling with Yen, Jaskier starts to wonder if he really fits with them anymore.

But he can barely complain, what with Ciri having lost everyone she ever knew and loved. And Yen's history. And Geralt's inability to enter certain towns without being shouted at and called a monster. In relation, Jaskier's problems are not that bad. It doesn't stop it from hurting, but it stops him from talking about it because he doesn't really have a good enough reason to be upset. And his relationship with Geralt is already strained at best, he doesn't want to make things more complicated between them and end up losing Geralt again, maybe for good this time.

Only keeping things to himself is harder than it seems because Jaskier constantly feels unwanted and unneeded. Because Geralt has Yen and Ciri, Ciri has her training with both of them, and Yen never really much cared for him to begin with. So where is he supposed to fit in with that? What can he do for them that someone else isn't already doing? Everything he used to do for Geralt has been taken over by someone new and as the days drag on, Jaskier begins to wonder if he's not just hindering them by tagging along.

But where would he go without him?

They're all sitting around the fire one night after Ciri's gone to bed and Jaskier's writing in his notebook, trying to force the lyrics to a ballad that just doesn't want to come. He has the tune, but he can't quite get the words right, so he hums under his breath, trying to work through it as Geralt pokes at the fire.

"Jaskier," Geralt grunts and Jaskier looks up at him, surprised and a little nervous. "Be quiet, Ciri's asleep."

"Oh," he says, "right."

He shuts his notebook and measures his breathing, trying to keep from getting too upset. It makes perfect sense that Geralt would ask him to be quiet, Ciri doesn't sleep well a lot of the time and he shouldn't disturb her when she does. It still hurts, but he packs his things back up and turns in for the night.

Geralt seems unfazed but Jaskier lays out his bedroll right at the edge of their camp and settles in. He doesn't know what else to do with himself; whatever he and Geralt once has is clearly gone now, everything is about Geralt and Ciri now or just about Geralt, off on his own to provide for a child he never wanted. There’s no room in his life for Jaskier now that he has Ciri.

As he lies down, he tries to think back to before Geralt, but he doesn't remember what he did with himself back then. He was young and foolish and a very different person than he is now. And even after, when he and Geralt were separated but still friendly, Jaskier would write about him or sing about him and tell stories about their adventures together. But it was all about Geralt. For two decades of his life, everything centred around Geralt and now he's faced with the prospect of losing him completely.

Geralt is a simple man; he needs food and coin and sex - most nights he won't even blink at sleeping out in the rain. Jaskier can offer him none of those things when they're staying away from towns, so why is he still here? He wants what they used to have when he could at least keep Geralt company during the long nights. Now, he can't even offer him that. Things can't go back to the way they used to be because Geralt has Ciri now and Yen is back in his life and Jaskier just... is.

And every time he tries to think about what he did wrong, he can only picture Geralt's face on the top of that mountain, how angry he sounded when he told Jaskier he wanted him gone.

Jaskier looks at Ciri, curled under Geralt's spare blanket, and he knows Geralt blames him for this responsibility that he never wanted. And maybe it is his fault because Geralt never would have been at the banquet otherwise. And maybe Yen leaving was his fault, too because Geralt never would have met her if Jaskier had just left the damn djinn bottle alone. Maybe all of this is his own fault. Jaskier lays his head down, fighting back tears as he wonders how he could have single-handedly ruined the one good thing that life ever gave him.

Summer fades into autumn and things only get worse.

Yen joins them again when the air starts to cool and Jaskier finds the only thing left for him to do is to distract Ciri when Yen and Geralt disappear off on their own. He doesn't want to think about what they get up to and he's certain Ciri doesn't want to know. The pair of them share a tent, which Jaskier is thankful for only because it means he shares with Ciri and he would prefer that to sharing with either Geralt or Yen. Ciri trusts him and when they're alone she still likes to sit and listen to him sing, plus the one perk of travelling with a sorceress is extravagant magic tents.

When it starts to get really cold, Jaskier's thoughts turn back to Oxenfurt. If he's going to go back for the winter, he needs to leave soon before it gets too cold to travel. He knows Geralt is taking Yen and Ciri to Kaer Morhen with him and he doesn't think he could stand spending the entire winter with them, even if he was invited.

He gives it a couple days' consideration before deciding he can't bear this any longer. He'll go to Oxenfurt for the winter and come spring he'll just have to figure out how to move on with his life because all of this is too much. Ciri has both Yen and Geralt now, and if he thought being in love with Geralt was hard before, it's nothing compared to how it feels now.

He's in the middle of organizing his things for the long ride out to the coast when Ciri finds him. She comes up and plops herself next to him, peeking over to see what he's doing.

"We're not leaving yet," she says, "why are you packing?"

"I have to go."

"You aren't coming to Kaer Morhen with us?"

"No."

He doesn't elaborate because he can already feel his chest contract and he has to be able to hold it together for a little longer. Ciri huffs and as she walks away, Jakier's hands still on his pack. He doesn't want to leave her and he feels bad about it, but it will be better for all of them in the long run.

Jaskier finishes packing and getting Buttercup saddled and he's just about ready to leave when Geralt approaches him. Jaskier hasn't spoken to him about leaving, but since he and Yen rarely talk to him, he didn't think he had to. But Geralt rests a hand on his forearm and when Jaskier turns to look at him, he seems conflicted.

"Ciri wants you to come with us," is all he says and Jaskier deflates a little. He was so close to making a clean break, but Ciri has lost so much and if she wants him there, who is he to deny her a little familiarity? He doesn't say anything to Geralt, but he unslings his lute from his back and leans it up against the tree and it seems to be enough.

But they travel to Kaer Morhen and once Jaskier is over the stunning scenery, it's just more of the same only warmer. The guest room in the keep is spacious and the fireplace is more than enough to keep him warm, but he stands at the top of the stairs and as he looks around, his shoulders slump. He and Geralt have always shared a room, even when an abundance of coin would have made it easy to rent two rooms. Jaskier didn't really expect to be sharing with Geralt after everything but knowing it wasn't even a thought hurts.

He reminds himself that he's doing this because Ciri wanted it and urges his feet to move, crossing to the bed in the centre of the room. At least when he needs a place to escape to, he can come here and not want for warmth or inspiration. His balcony has a beautiful view of the valley and so long as he's willing to fill it himself, there's a large tub to one side of the room. He's stayed in much worse places all in all, and he's grown accustomed to spending a lot of time alone. Maybe it won't be so bad.

But once everyone has arrived, he realizes he was wrong. The Witchers are friendly enough, even the two from other schools who Jaskier has never heard of before. Ciri tells him one of them is Lambert's boyfriend and it was a big scandal last year when he showed up. Jaskier's heart just sinks, realizing even Ciri is included in all of this and he knows nothing of them. He's not even sure which one Lambert is because Geralt has never been a very descriptive person. It’s just another reminder of what he’s lost and he forces a smile to keep from showing his feelings.

Watching them all finally gathered together in the main hall, Jaskier realizes he's made a mistake in coming. He felt like an outsider with their little group travelling the wilderness, but it's nothing to the way he feels now. Like an intruder, an interloper who's snuck his way in when no one wanted him. Even the reminder that Ciri asked for him doesn't help now because Geralt has his old family and his new family and what could a bunch of Witchers and a sorceress possibly want with a bard?

He has enough rations left in his pack that he skips supper the first night. He can't bear to listen to Geralt talking to everyone when Jaskier can barely get a few words out of him these days. Some things just aren't destined to be. Sometimes it's better to let something die than it is to suffer meaninglessly.

Jaskier slips away up to his room and goes to sit on the balcony. The weather is still fairly decent, warm enough that the cold doesn't get to him until after dark. It's only when he returns inside that he realizes he only has one lit candle and it's too dark to look around now. So he strips out of his clothes and climbs into the cold bed, blowing out his single candle before curling in on himself and shutting his eyes.

In the morning, Geralt and Eskel set out to clear some mine or other of kikimores. Jaskier doesn't come down from his room until later that evening and the only joy he gets from it is catching the tail end of Eskel's story about the mine. But that doesn't last long, so he makes his way down the halls because if he's going to be staying here a while, he might as well get to know the place.

But barely half an hour into his exploration and just as his nerves are starting to settle, Jaskier comes upon a room with an open door. He doesn't look in, but he hears Geralt's voice, grumbling about something or other and then Yen mumbling, just get in the damn bath so I can wash this shit out of your hair and something inside him that was just barely holding on shatters.

That one hurts more than anything. It had taken him years for Geralt to be comfortable enough to let him stick around while he was in the bath. Longer, even, to let Jaskier take care of him the way Yen apparently does now. Something sticks in his throat and as soon as he rounds the corner, he slumps against the wall, choking back a sob.

All he ever wanted was to love him, in whatever way Geralt would let him, but this is almost worse than being told to leave. This time, Geralt won't even do him the service of telling him he wants him gone, this time he'll just replace him slowly but surely, finding someone new to do all the things Jaskier once did for him. This time, Jaskier doesn't need to be told to leave; he can tell when he's not wanted.

He waits three days, ensuring he has enough supplies, before seeking out Yen. She won't care enough to tell anyone right away, but she cares for Ciri, so if Ciri asks after him, she'll know. Plus, if he tells Geralt he’s leaving, he'd have to see the utter lack of emotion on his face, and he couldn't bear that.

Jaskier makes his way down through the courtyard without interruption, stopping at the stables to bid farewell to his horse. He hasn't had her long, but she's been good to him and he hopes she'll be just as good for Ciri.

For hours, Jaskier walks, recalling the path from memory, then just as it gets dark, it starts to snow. And once it starts, it doesn't stop and he's forced to take shelter in the first place he can find. It's cold and hard to trudge through the deepening snow and he didn't consider how hard it would be to find food up in the mountains. But none of that matters because the only place he can find to sleep is a cave, the entrance just barely visible to him in the dark, and when its resident comes home, he's liable to be eaten before he has to set out again.

He tries to build a fire, but the only wood he can find are the small trees just outside the mouth of the cave and they're soaked from the snow. Bitterly, he thinks that it's never this difficult for Geralt and at once, something clicks into place.

This isn't his life. The reason he doesn't fit is because he doesn’t belong. He tried to make it work and maybe for a little while he did, but he belongs in the city, not out in the wilderness. The reason he doesn't fit is because he's trying to be something that he's not. He's a bard, not an adventurer.

With a sigh, he sinks to his knees and wonders if he'll make it through the night. Maybe he should have waited at the keep until spring. He's never been out on his own like this - not so far north in unfamiliar territory -, but even now the thought of staying up there with Geralt and Yen makes his stomach turn. So he pulls his knees up against his chest and wraps his blanket around him. He tries to sleep, but the wind howls and snow blows in through the mouth of the cave and he just ends up damp and cold and miserable.

Jaskier hadn't realized he was asleep until a sound near the mouth of the cave wakes him. Assuming it's whatever lives here, he's thankful that at least the cold will no longer be a problem for him. He doesn't want to die, but being eaten by a monster is better than slowly freezing to death. But when he opens his eyes, there's a person at the mouth of the cave, not a monster. The first thing he thinks is who the hell is out in this storm? but it doesn't take long before he has an answer.

"Jaskier?" Fuck. "Jaskier, are you in there?" He wonders if he's quiet if the monster might come back and eat him after all.

"Yeah," he mumbles and it's all he can manage, but he knows Geralt will hear. And he does. And he pushes through the snowdrift, breathing heavily as he drops to his knees before Jaskier and hauls him into his arms.

"What were fucking thinking?" he growls and Jaskier winces at the anger in his voice, but then he's being pulled forward against Geralt's chest. "Idiot. You're frozen."

"Snow," Jaskier mumbles, not quite sure what to do with his arms. He doesn't know what's happening, but it ages before Geralt moves again, though he never stops telling Jaskier he's an idiot. That much, at least, feels familiar.

When he does finally pull away, Jaskier can barely see him in the dark but he knows Geralt can see him. Which means he can see his puffy eyes and he probably knows how scared and confused he is right now. And he hates it. He wants to push him away, but Geralt is warm and Jaskier is freezing and he finds himself swaying back toward his body. And after a quick once-over, Geralt lets him.

Once he's apparently satisfied that Jaskier isn't in immediate danger, he settles against the wall of the cave and pulls him into his lap.

"Why didn't you light a fire?" he asks and most of the anger has left his voice, replaced with soft concern.

"Couldn't get it lit," Jaskier shrugs, "wet wood."

For a while, Geralt is quiet again, tugging Jaskier's blanket up around him and just holding him. It doesn't occur to him until much later that Geralt is trying to get his body temperature up.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Hmm?" Jaskier had nearly drifted off, wrapped in the warmth of Geralt's body, but the question startles him awake again.

"Why did you leave without telling anyone?"

"I told Yen," he offers, but he knows it's weak.

"You told-" Geralt scoffs, exasperated and Jaskier can't figure out what the big deal is. No one wanted him there, anyway.

"Why are you here?" he counters, "why didn't you just stay in the keep?"

Geralt stills and Jaskier turns to look at him, knowing he won't be able to see much in the dark, but it feels better having this conversation face-to-face.

"Why the fuck do you think, Jaskier?" And Jaskier just looks at him because he doesn't know. He can't fathom what brought Geralt out here in the storm. Because even if he did come to retrieve him out of some kind of sense of responsibility, surely he wouldn't risk leaving Ciri without a caretaker. When he doesn't answer, Geralt gets very quiet.

"Where were you going?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Oxenfurt."

"You'd die before you got there," Geralt exclaims, the anger returning to his voice with a vengeance.

"I brought provisions. Where's Ciri?"

"With Eskel and Lambert. Why would you just leave without telling anyone?" Geralt asks and Jaskier realizes in this context, that anyone means me.

Jaskier pulls away from him, irritation winning out over the desire to be warm. "Because I didn't really think anyone would care," he says "I don't belong anymore, not since-" he sighs and readjusts so he's sitting across from Geralt. "What happened on the mountain can't be fixed, Geralt. And I told Yen, I figured she'd pass the message along."

Geralt lets out an exasperated laugh and Jaskier wants to slap him for it. He never should have come up here in the first place.

"Jaskier, if anything from that day is irreparable, it's my relationship with Yen. We only travel together because of Ciri, because it's beneficial for both of us."

"So why do you keep me around then? What good am I?" He doesn't mean for it to come out, but it does and he holds his ground, hoping he looks more determined than he feels.

"You're my friend, Jaskier. And Ciri loves you. You're the only one who feeds Roach those little sugar cubes she likes so much. You know, she gets snippy with me now if I don't have them for her. I even think Yen is beginning to enjoy your company." Geralt's voice softens and he reaches out, tentatively brushing Jaskier's hair away from his face.

"What about you?" Jaskier asks, trying to keep the unsteadiness from his voice.

"Do you really think if I didn't want you around I would have let you follow me out of Posada? Roach could easily have outrun you if I wanted to." His hand slips to cup his cheek and Jaskier barely resists shutting his eyes. It feels too close to intimacy, but he knows Geralt better than to think this is anything real. But he's forgotten what it feels like to be touched so softly and when Geralt bundles him back into his arms, Jaskier sinks into it despite his reservations.

"Jaskier," he breathes right next to his ear. "That day on the mountain, I was angry because Yen was right about me and I didn't want to face it. I had to take responsibility and then you-" he exhales deeply, tucking his head into the crook of Jaskier's neck. "I was struggling with my… feelings. I felt like I'd somehow forced you to stay with me the way I did with Yen. I couldn't bear to hear the same things from you so I-"

"Pushed me away?" Jaskier asks.

"Hmm,” Geralt says and his voice is tense with understanding. “You left tonight because of me."

"I didn't think you wanted me around anymore," he mumbles and it's not until Geralt shifts that Jaskier realizes he's got both hands fisted in his cloak. "I thought I'd save myself having to hear it from you. I didn't want anyone's pity."

Geralt hauls him up into his lap so the only way for him to sit comfortably is to wrap his legs around Geralt's waist. For a moment, that ferocity is back, but then Geralt tugs the blanket tighter around him, holds him closer.

"Why wouldn't I want you around?"

"You have Yen and Ciri and the other Witchers, what could you possibly want me for? Everything I used to do for you-" he chokes on a sob and curses himself for it before burying his face in Geralt's shoulder. "Everything I did for you, someone else does now."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just... everything. All the things I used to do for you. When you don't sleep because of your nightmares, Ciri goes to you. When I tried to get wood for the fire it was already done when I got back-" he sighs and shifts away from Geralt a little. "The other night in the bath, Yen-"

"Yen?"

"I heard you," Jaskier says, "you don't have to hide it now. I know. It doesn't matter that much I just... I don't know what I can do for you when everyone else is doing what I used to do."

"Jaskier you don't need to do anything. You're my friend. And Yen- that's not what you thought it was. "

Jaskier isn't quite sure what to do with any of that, but when Geralt tugs him close again, he lets himself be held and buries his face in his shoulder. Geralt allows it, letting one hand slip up between his shoulder blades and bringing him closer. They stay like that for some time and Jaskier's heart aches for more than he should want. This is so much more than he ever expected but now with Geralt wrapped around him, he wants more.

When Geralt finally pulls himself away, he regards Jaskier for a moment before running a hand down his arm.

"Are you warm enough," he asks and Jaskier nods because even if he wasn't, he can't take much more of this before he breaks and says or does something he'll regret. "We should get you back to the keep and into a warm bath."

The idea of a bath is tempting, but more so is the idea of staying here in Geralt's arms for as long as he's allowed. Stil, Jaskier lets himself be pulled to his feet and led toward the mouth of the cave.

Their return to the keep is quiet and Jaskier isn't sure anyone else even realized he was gone until Geralt pauses and doubles back on himself, heading toward his own room rather than the guest room.

"Eskel's got a bath ready," he says by way of explanation.

"How did he-" Jaskier starts but he realizes the answer before he can finish. They were probably keeping watch, waiting for Geralt to return.

"I told him to," Geralt says, approaching the door and stepping back so Jaskier can enter the room first. It's darker than the room he's staying in, but there's a balcony off the far wall that lets in a little light, and candles placed on every surface. The bath is at the right side of the room and Geralt guides him toward it.

"It shouldn't be too hot," he says, "so it doesn't shock your body, but there's more water boiling by the fire if you need to warm it up."

"Thank you," Jaskier whispers. Guilt curdles in his gut and he pulls the blanket a little tighter around his shoulders. He's still cold and eager to get into the tub, but more than anything he's dreading having to get undressed in front of Geralt. Luckily, he's spared that embarrassment.

Geralt claps a hand on his shoulder, lingering just a moment too long. "I'll find you something to eat," he says, "try to warm up."

Jaskier nods dumbly, waiting until Geralt has left the room to let the blanket slip from his shoulders. To say he doesn't understand would be an understatement. He's never seen Geralt like this, not even with Ciri, and a part of him wonders if he didn't freeze to death in that cave and this is some sort of weird afterlife. But the water is hot against his skin, a little too hot to begin with and his skin tingles as he slips into the bath and shuts his eyes. And Geralt's hands felt real, right down to the callouses. But it all seems a bit off.

Jaskier has been hypothermic before, more than once, and it wasn't like this. He's left Geralt in much worse ways than this and it's never ended with him in a bath drawn especially for him. But Jaskier isn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he warms himself up without even having to use the extra water and upon getting out of the tub, realizes all his clothes are cold and soaked.

Frowning, he looks around the room and spots Geralt's pack dumped on a chair in the corner. Surely, Geralt wouldn't mind if he just borrowed some of his clothes. Just for a little while. Jaskier is the one who washes them anyway - or he used to be. His heart sinks again, but he pushes away the feeling, crossing to pull clean clothes out of the pack.

They fit him surprisingly well and they smell like Geralt which is both comforting and nerve-wracking all at once. The blanket is wet now too, so he hangs that with his clothes where they won't drip on anything important and heads down to the kitchen.

Geralt isn't there, but he can hear him shuffling around on the opposite side of the fire, so Jaskier settles himself at one of the tables to wait patiently. He doesn't hear Eskel approach, so he must already have been there, talking to Geralt, but their conversation suddenly gets louder before something crashes to the floor.

Jaskier keeps quiet, trying not to listen in because he knows it's not his place, but they're arguing in earnest now and Geralt sounds passive and ashamed in a way that's very unlike him. Then there's a grunt from Geralt and Eskel says, "you didn't fucking tell him," like he’s only just realizing this. Jaskier focuses very hard on a knot in the tabletop.

It's an accusation, not a question and it's followed by heavy footsteps coming toward him. He tenses up, not prepared to deal with an angry Geralt, but it's Eskel who comes through the door. He pauses when he sees Jaskier, gives him a sympathetic sort of look and mumbles something that sounds like goodnight before continuing onward up the stairs.

Jaskier sits and waits and eventually, Geralt appears through the doorway with two bowls of stew and rolls. He sits next to him, pushing one of the bowls toward him and Jaskier tries not to show just how hungry he is. They sit in companionable silence, which is more than he can say for the last few weeks and Jaskier settles. When they're finished, Geralt is the one to speak first, angling his body so he's facing Jaskier but not looking directly at him.

"It's getting late," is all he says but Jaskier understands. He moves to take their bowls away but Geralt rests a hand on his wrist and takes the bowls from him. "I'll meet you upstairs."

Jaskier nods slowly, not quite understanding. He makes for his own room, climbing up as far as the staircase goes and pushing the door open. He's quite frankly exhausted and doesn't even think to get changed before climbing up onto the bed. The snow on the balcony lights the room well enough, but he fumbles with a candle for a few minutes anyway before giving up on that idea. He's alone in the dim room for a few minutes before Geralt knocks on the door and Jaskier mumbles for him to come in.

Geralt comes to sit on the side of the bed and Jaskier's heart feels like it's pounding out of his chest. He doesn't know what to say or even how to process what they've already said, but in his need to fill the silence, he blurts out, "why do you and Yen share a tent?" And it's the last thing he means to say and he does want to know, but this is not at all the time.

Only Geralt smiles. It's a small thing, barely a quirk of his lips, but it's there and for the first time in forever, Jaskier feels comfortable in his presence.

"Because Ciri asked to share with you. You're a good memory for her, one of the few she has of home."

"Oh."

"Before you came back, she shared with Yen." Geralt looks down at him and the almost-smile turns to confusion. "You're wearing my clothes."

"Mine were wet, I can change if-"

"No," Geralt interrupts and Jaskier can feel his eyes on him, taking him in, "it's fine."

"Oh. Right. I'll wash them in the morning then."

"You don't have to, they look good on you. You should sleep now, though. Goodnight, Jaskier."

Jaskier's heart thuds. He doesn't want to let Geralt go before he gets a chance to finish their conversation from earlier. "Geralt?" he asks and the Witcher turns back to him in the dark. "If it's not too much to ask, could you stay? Just for a little bit?"

Geralt doesn't say anything, but he comes back, pulling off his boots before climbing up onto the bed next to him. He lays still and Jaskier doesn't reach out and touch, as much as he wants to.

Geralt is the first to move, shifting onto his side and reaching into the space between them.

"Can I-?" he asks and Jaskier nods without hesitation, unsure of what's being requested. Seemingly pleased with his consent, Geralt's hand slips over his side and around his back, nudging him a little closer as he gets comfortable. Jaskier doesn't know what to do with himself.

It's too much and not enough all at once and he wants to pull away, but he doesn't want to break this moment of trust. So he pushes through, presses into the touch and tips his head down to keep Geralt from seeing the mess of emotions that are sure to be plain on his face. Not that he wouldn't be able to feel them anyway, but still.

"I'm sorry things have been different since you came back," he breathes. "Sorry if I made you feel..."

"Unwanted?" Jaskier offers and Geralt winces at the word, his arm pulling just a little tighter around Jaskier's back.

"Mmm."

"Are we... okay?" Jaskier asks tentatively, finally risking a glance up at Geralt's face.

"As long as you don't do that again," Geraly mumbles, "you... scared me tonight. I've been thinking so much about how to protect Ciri that I didn't consider losing you."

"You won't," Jaskier promises. "I won't." He moves closer, testing Geralt's limits, but his guard seems to be down tonight; Jaskier presses right up against him before Geralt so much as moves. And then, it's only to hold him closer.

He must have been genuinely worried, Jaskier thinks, to allow this right now. Which is the only reason he says the next thing that comes out of his mouth.

"I didn't mean to worry you," he says softly, slipping one hand up to cautiously rest against Geralt's chest. "I didn't think-" he shakes his head, pushing away the thoughts, "well, I didn't think you would come out after me. I'm sorry."

"Maybe..." Geralt starts then turns his head away like the words are difficult for him. Jaskier braces himself for something he doesn't want to hear, trying hard not to pull away defensively, but Geralt surprises him. "Maybe we both need to be better at saying what we mean."

Instead of drawing away, Jaskier slips his hand up to rest against the side of Geralt's neck. This is absolutely uncharted territory for them and he's not quite sure what to do here. What do you do when the least communicative person you know says you should talk about things more. But he's not wrong and Jaskier's touch seems to relax him a little, so armed with that information, Jaskier presses forward.

"You're right," he says. "So if we're going to... say what we mean, I should tell you that all of this with Ciri and Yen and everyone up here - it scares me, Geralt." Geralt opens his mouth to speak, but Jaskier just shakes his head. "Please just let me finish. Yen is a sorceress. Even if your relationship with her is over, she will always be a part of your life. Ciri has powers I can't even begin to comprehend. Your brothers and the others- they're Witchers, Geralt. All of them will be with you for years to come and all of them have been with you - barring, Ciri - for years. How can I live up to that? How can I possibly find a place in your life when soon I'll be gone and they'll just-" he chokes on the last word and can't bring himself to continue.

Words are his livelihood and yet when he needs them the most, they seem to fail him entirely. Luckily for him, Geralt is accustomed to non-verbal communication and understands. But in the faint light of the room, he looks like he wants to retreat, to pull away and forget everything he said before. He doesn't and Jaskier realizes this is just as difficult for Geralt as it is for him.

"Jaskier," he shuts his eyes and Jaskier holds his breath. For one awful moment, everything is silent, then Geralt speaks again, quiet and soft. "Everyone else in my life has been brought to me by forces outside of my control. I never chose to become a Witcher, to be brought here as a child as raised with dozens of other boys who would never make it to adulthood. I never intended to bind myself to Yen - Djinn are tricky and bend wishes to their own amusement. And Ciri- how was I to know Pavetta was already with child when I claimed the law of surprise?"

Jaskier wants to remind him of the multiple other occasions in which the law of surprise has gifted someone a child, but he doubts this is the place to bring up Geralt's mistakes.

"But you," Geralt continues, speaking slower like each word is pulled unwillingly from his lips. "You came to me on a whim. I could have left you in Posada, ridden away and left you in the tavern." He sighs, tips his head up so his forehead presses against Jaskier's. "But I chose not to. I chose to let you come with me. And I regretted it, in the beginning."

"I certainly hope you said nicer things to Yen when you found each other again."

Geralt huffs a laugh, just the fainted sound in the dark, but his breath is warm against Jaskier's cheek. "Let me finish."

"Do you promise you'll say nicer things about me?"

"Hmm, maybe."

"Fine then, finish your story."

"I regretted it, in the beginning, but it was still my own choice, mine to regret. Over time I grew... attached. That first time you left me was the first time I really felt lonely since undergoing the trials."

"You leave your brothers every spring," Jaskier says, an attempt to mask the hammering of his heart.

"I do, but so is the life of a Witcher. It's the way it's supposed to be. There's no room for loneliness. There were no rules attached to you and so when you left it seemed too quiet."

"Are you... are you saying you like having me around?" Jaskier asks, the hopeful tone in his voice a backdrop to the thudding in his chest.

"Yes," Geralt replies, "I dread the winters when I come up here alone."

"Then why do you? And why did you say Ciri wanted me to come?"

Geralt makes a noise that sounds something like embarrassment and Jaskier's sure if he could see properly, he would be blushing.

"I'm sorry," he says again, "I couldn't ask because if you said no I- but I knew you'd never say no to her. She told me you were leaving and I knew if I let you go I wouldn't see you again."

"You idiot, you could have just asked me. I follow you into swamps and monster dens and worse- why would I say no to spending the winter here?" He shifts to run his fingers along Geralt's jaw and sighs. "You're my-"

"Friend?" Geralt offers and the sound of that word on his lips makes something warm swell in Jaskier's chest, but he remembers his promise to speak plainly.

"More than that" he admits. He ducks his chin, unable to look at Geralt while he speaks, this time. "I tried so hard to just be a good friend to you, but it's always been more than that. I don't expect anything from you, of course, but you said we should-" He's cut off by gentle fingers tracing the line of his jaw and he shuts his eyes, waiting for the inevitable downfall. But it doesn't come.

"Jaskier," he breathes, "if you're worried about your place in my life, this is it." Geralt tips his head up and their lips brush against each other just for a second, but Jaskier is certain his heart stops beating altogether.

"Geralt?" he whispers but it comes out as an uncertain whimper. Geralt hums in response, shifting to cradle Jaskier's head in one hand, and he presses in again.

This time Jaskier knows it's intentional. The lips against his own are warm and soft, whispering silent promises and asking for the same in return. Jaskier responds tentatively, but as soon as he does, Geralt is gathering him up against him and his uncertainty vanishes.

He's seen Geralt kiss before, but this is nothing like that. Geralt kisses him with a passion that speaks of years of repression and guilt, begging for forgiveness for something Jaskier hadn't realized he was even doing. And Jaskier forgives, tangling his fingers in Geralt's hair and submitting readily when Geralt rolls him onto his back.

Geralt gets a knee between his thighs and Jaskier's breath catches as Geralt's hand slips under the hem of his borrowed shirt. He'd be more than happy to lay here and let Geralt kiss him senseless, but when Geralt's teeth graze against his lip, Jaskier groans, effectively shattering the moment.

Geralt draws back, looking down on him and Jaskier slips his hands around the back of his neck. "Do you mean that?" Jaskier asks, “about me belonging with you?” Geralt nods.

"Of course, if you want to leave, I'll take you back to Oxenfurt, but I'd prefer if you stayed here."

"Right here?" Jaskier asks, sprawling under him against the mattress.

"Right here," Geralt confirms with a soft smile. "With me."

[nct-jungjaehyun]

broken promises and long distance with jung jaehyun

this came out a long longer than i expected but i hopeyou love it nonetheless! please check out my pinned post if you can, it would mean a lot. happy reading with jung jaehyun.

the calendar stared back at you in disappointment. january 19th. it felt like just yesterday when you first brushed your hands on this leather sofa and promised yourself that you would tell him everything.

after boyfriend!jaehyun’s long pleads and whines, you finally stepped away from the states and came back into his arms. you graduated from college last year during late may, but you created a handful of excuses to lengthen your stay there. 

jaehyun did not mind waiting. he had been waiting for 14 years, what was a little more time? most of all, he was determined that time was not his enemy, distance was. friends and family warned him that your heart might stray, but he remained unmoved by his own heart. even when you had posted a picture of yourself being piggybacked by another man while posing on the top of the mountains, he never brought it up in your text messages. he never showed a hint of jealousy. while he never doubted your love for him, he was filled with constant fear that he would chase you away. whether he was on stage or filming a variety show, he made sure to keep his distance from all females and earned himself the title as the idol who cannot flirt for his life. however, his text messages with you tell a different story. his text bubbles would all fall under the category of lovey-dovey. the batches of cringey voice messages he delivered every week still sat unopened on your end.

you, on the other hand, returned his packages of text messages with lesser words as the months slipped by. for a college student as busy as you, a simple ‘okay’ seemed more than sufficient. you always wondered how jaehyun had endless time on his hands to send you paragraphs of text, some felt longer than the english assignments you were given.

before you went to the states, your entire world knew about jaehyun’s feelings for you. jaehyun’s world was much bigger, incomparably bigger. he had his fans to worry about and his members to stress for. you felt like a speck of dust in his life. the constant reminder from your parents that jaehyun will be the ultimate husband lost its meaning somewhere in between. 

moving to the states meant that a whole new planet will be added into your life. it was fascinating, all the people and places. at first, your motivation behind your english major was jaehyun. you wanted to communicate with him on another level, as well as to impress his members and fans if they were to ever find out about your relationship. during your second year in college, you considered giving up on your studies. the hundreds and thousands of dollars that jaehyun had poured from his own wallet to support you in college would have gone to waste. the guilt was enough to keep you up at night, questioning everything that you were doing. what were you going to do with this knowledge? you were staying up night after night to rush papers that lacked passion and energy. like a ghost, you floated through the crowded halls and sat through classes as an invisible. eating and sleeping turned into things that required immense effort. jaehyun sent his support not only financially, but also spiritually: “don’t forget to eat breakfast!” or “sleep tight!” in the end, you failed to meet his expectations. 

the wobbly tower you tried so hard to keep upright collapsed. a classmate took you to the hospital when you fainted at the library one day. he stayed at your bedside until the nurses informed him that you were replenished with all the nutrients and vitamins your frail body desperately craved for. it was not a long process, but the nightmares and loneliness the first few nights were unbearable. that is until he began coming by after class every day to tend to you. he was different from jaehyun. he was younger, but he carried a sense of maturity and sophistication that other men around you failed to demonstrate. unlike the other man across the world performing his heart out for his audience, this man on your bedside was willing to hold your hand and be the first person you see when you open your eyes. 

on the day of your graduation, you gave jaehyun another chance to grasp the tiny bit of hope to spark your relationship again. the first chance was at the hospital. you told yourself that you would clench your teeth and fight through the rest of college if he can show up right then. sure, a figure walked through and, we already know, it was your classmate, not jaehyun.

graduation day. you stared at the mirror and took a deep breath. “jung jaehyun,” you said, at the image of him pulled up on your phone, “be here for me and i promise i will be there for you for the rest of our lives.”

you waited and waited. they called your name and from the podium your eyes squinted into the sea of proud family and relatives of the class of 2020. sitting in your designated seat for valedictorians, you twist your back to search for him. again, nowhere to be found.

you called him the moment that the ceremony was over, hoping that you had simply missed him in the crowd and he was lingering somewhere on the grassy field with your parents.

the call went to voicemail. maybe his phone was on silent. you called again. nothing. the monotone voice that instructed you to call again played back quicker this time.

out of nowhere a hug engulfed you from the back. you broke out into a huge smile, realizing that jaehyun was still the same romantic and cheesy boy you knew best. 

you were wrong. 

turning around, the one who had hugged you was your classmate. in his arm, the object that spiked your back, was a bouquet of flowers. they were crysanthemums, your favorite. “congratulations,” he said, his cheeks blushing a strong pink, “i’m very proud of you.” it surprised you when he leaned down to kiss you on the cheek, but you did not dodge from it. it was sweet and charming of him.

today is january 19th and it was time to tell jaehyun everything. 

right on schedule, you see him coming through the main entrance of the sm building. he patted your head and asked, “hey, why did you want to meet me here?”

“it’s been a month since i came back and you’re already tired of me?” you laughed.

he shook his head, laughing with you, and invited you to the practice room. “the members are out shopping together. we have the practice room to ourselves.”

it always felt stifling to be around him. jaehyun was a delight, but sneaking around like criminals just to talk was not.

walking up to the practice room, where a plaque with the words NCT were engraved on it, felt like a blur. your heart was pounding and your legs somehow found it difficult to walk on flat ground. walking with him was not that bad if you compared it with what came after. the both of you broke out into an all out fight.

“what do you mean you found someone else? i waited so long for you to come back!” he shouted, arms flailing.

you flinched at the volume of his voice. you can not remember the last time that he raised his voice at you. “jaehyun, we were never really a thing. normal things that normal couples do, we never did any of those. you know that. we promised each other that we were going to get married when i finished college, but deep down we both knew that wasn’t gonna happen.”

“i don’t know about you, but i believed it was going to happen. why are you giving up on us so easily?”

“you’re telling me that you will be willing to let our relationship destroy your reputation and threaten your career? do it right now and we’ll get married.”

you left him speechless. it never occurred to him that he would have to choose. he felt that it would just happen, that he will have both. you and his career.

“when i was in the hospital-” you started.

“when were you in the hospital?” he interrupted, rushing forward to hold your arm. his eyes glanced down once, as if making sure he did not miss a broken limb.

“i forgot to eat my meals and i stayed up to finish work. no one was there to take care of me. i don’t blame you for that, but i silently wished, i wished hard, that you would show up. if you did, i was willing to give up everything, just to be by your side.”

“if i showed up...” jaehyun wondered how much this would have all changed if he would have listened to his heart. he missed you so much but when he thought about all the faces in the audience, he knew it wasn’t a decision for him to make. he had a responsibility to be a part of NCT. he assumed the love you two had for each other would be strong enough to withstand all of the obstacles.

“my graduation ceremony, where were you?” you questioned, although you already knew the answer. you surfed the web that night and realized that he had another ceremony to attend, an award ceremony. his group won best artist of the year.

when he didn’t answer, you answered for him, “congratulations on the award. i wasn’t sure if i should have mentioned it before...”

he took a step back, furthering the gap between the two of you. his eyes were growing teary and so were yours. “he was there... both times when i wasn’t?”

you nodded and stared at your feet as tears dripped onto your shoes.

that gap was restored when he leapt forward and gripped you tightly against his chest. he was sobbing now. “i’m sorry. please don’t leave. we can fix this. we can fix- we can still- we still love each other, don’t we?”

you sniffed back your tears, “don’t do this, jaehyun. it’s time to let go. we wasted 14 years bounded by this obligation to love each other. we loved each other too much.”

the knives that stabbed into your heart felt like they were being pulled out. one by one. all the wounds were opening, vulnerable for bacteria to infect it.

he pulled away and turned around to wipe away all of his tears that strayed from the rest which had soaked into your shirt.

your phone rang from the pocket of your jeans. jaehyun tensed at the new ringtone. it used to be the tune of his song, try again. the new ringtone was unfamiliar to him, but it was a song that you heard often. it was a piano recording of your favorite song played by him.

“don’t pick up. we’re not over. you can’t do this to me. tell me, what did i do wrong?” jaehyun was getting desperate. you wanted your relationship to work out as much as he did, but the only person who can heal the wounds in your heart was not him, it was the person who was calling you right then.

you picked up the call and put his voice on speaker. i contrast, his voice was soft and assuring, “hey, i’m outside, are you ready? i can drive around the block if you need some more time.”

you smiled at his attentiveness. it felt as if the world was put on hold and only you and him existed—something you once felt with jaehyun. “i’ll be right there, two more minutes, okay?”

jaehyun’s strong breaths pulled you away from your phone call. you glanced at him for a moment before talking into the phone, “hey, i’m really hungry, can we go to my favorite restaurant for dinner?”

you can see his smile despite not seeing him in person, “i already made a reservation, love. i also got you your favorite flowers, crysanthemums.”

“i’ll see you soon, alright? bye,” you ended.

“bye,” a barely audible kiss sound came from the phone before you tapped end call.

jaehyun did not hesitate to pick at your boyfriend’s words like a lawyer, “your favorite restaurant is not open today. your favorite flowers are roses. he doesn’t even know you.”

you sighed and grinned at him, trying your best not to look apologetic, because there was no need for apologies. “my favorite restaurant changed. it’s a new name that originated from the states. i never liked roses. your favorite are roses. i was never fond of the color red.

“things change, jaehyun, our hobbies, our favorite foods. these are all feelings. don’t ignore these feelings. right now, i only have feelings for him.” you raised your phone towards jaehyun at your last word, reminding him that the person you grew a newfound love for is real.

lifting the necklace from underneath your shirt, you twirled the ring that looped on the rope. “he gave me this promise ring. he has one, too. it’s a commitment. we’re both going to keep this promise.”

with that said, you turned away and headed for the door.

you paused after two steps, without turning around, you added, “be happy, jaehyun. find someone who will keep your promise and make sure to put them on top of all of your other commitments. i’ll pay you back all the money bit by bit. it’ll work out somehow.”

you heard a loud thump on the floor. it must be jaehyun. a part of you wanted to go back and comfort him, but going back would mean never moving forward.

the one outside waiting for you was willing to move forward with you. he inspired you to use your english major for private tutoring and perhaps someday write a book. 

holding your head high, you took a deep breath. you were glad to finally put jaehyun behind you. 

you did not want to dream of the future anymore, but one thing that you knew for sure: don’t lose sight of the one you have right now and love him with your whole heart.

[pcttrailsidereader]

July 9, 2010 . . . A (Trail)Magical Evening at Drakesbad

By Rees Hughes

There are certain magical days on the Pacific Crest Trail that stand tall; days that rise above that broad forest of glorious days.   These are the days that your memory immediately races to when you reflect on your life on the trail.  There was the day we guessed our way around snow-covered Mt. Adams ending on a ridge with a commanding view of Mt. Rainier and a solstice sunset; the day we swam our way down Falls Creek marveling at the granite walls above Grace Meadows only to while away an afternoon in the soft, lush grass basking in the warm sun near Wilmer Lake; or the day we walked south from Cook and Green Pass past Kangaroo Springs to Lower Devils Peak with its ringside seat to the conflagration raging across the Klamath River Valley.  Every hiker has their transcendent days.

Such days do not always represent a confluence of everything wonderful.  It is their enchanted quality, what English writer Nan Fairbrother calls “exquisite moments,” that sets them apart.  Besides, time seems to blur the difficult and brighten the best experiences of these stellar days.  Such was the case this particular day.

The day dawned with vestiges of the tumultuous evening resting on the peaks above Lower Twin Lake in Lassen Volcanic National Park.  We tried to shake off as much moisture as possible but there was no alternative but to pack the tents wet again.  Dr. Howard tended to Don and Eli’s ailing feet.  Wet boots and long days had chaffed their feet raw with blisters compounding their discomfort.  There were unspoken thoughts of an early exit from the trail as it is no fun when each step hurts.  Perhaps a short day will improve spirits.

Speed bumps of late season snow gave way to long stretches of snow sheltered by the dense tree canopy.  I always find these situations wearing if not exhausting.  Climbing up and down the steep edges of the snow banks; picking your path around downed trees; add in a couple of postholes.   We carefully crossed several creeks swollen by the melt water and preceding night’s rainfall. About midday we reached the crest of a line of basalt cliffs that comprise Flatiron Ridge high above the Warner Valley and, more importantly, Drakesbad.

Drakesbad, initially established clear back in 1900 as a guest ranch, remains a rustic refuge accessible via a corrugated unpaved road seventeen miles in from Chester (which is pretty remote itself) or on foot.  There are only nineteen units at Drakesbad some of which still rely on kerosene lamps.  However, the price for a night rivals the cost of a month on the PCT.  Yet, during much of the summer, accommodations have been reserved for years.  It really is a Northern California Shangri-la.

As we made the long traverse down, we could see the steam rising from the hot spring pool set out in a broad meadow.  The siren song of happy voices pulled us forward.  Our own chatter focused on the possibility of reserving a space for dinner.

We set up our tents in the Park Service’s Warner Valley Campground, hung a line and did our best to give the high mountain sun a chance to dry out our saturated gear.  Howard and I were nominated to walk the half mile to Drakesbad to ask about a table for four in the well ventilated section.  We donned clean tee-shirts and tried to sponge away the most offensive trail musk.

As we stepped into the closed space of the dining room, even our deadened noses became aware of the aroma that accompanied us.  The colorful tablecloths festooned the light wood of the dining room.  The room was set for dinner.  Salad forks.  Second spoons.  Wine glasses.  The ambiance was simple but elegant.   The realization that we didn’t fit here made us yearn for the opportunity that much more.

A tall woman brusquely emerged from what appeared to be the kitchen.  She had the air of a person with a long list of urgent tasks and little time for hiker trash.  Our first efforts to turn on the charm bounced off her and fell impotently to the floor.

We continued, “Any chance, any chance at all, that there might be a way to handle four more this evening?”  We weren’t above inserting a hint of desperation in our request.

“The Ranch is full and we usually only have enough food for our paying guests,” she replied without a hint of sympathy.  There was a pause as she saw our crestfallen faces.  “I will check with the chef and see if there is likely to be extra food.”   Perhaps it was her Germanic accent that underscored the futility of our quest.   Perhaps it was that she didn’t seem to be heading off to ask anyone anything.

We turned to go, tails between our legs.  Don and Eli will be so disappointed.  We had hoped this would be an antidote for their blistered feet and bruised morale.

With one foot out the door, Howard asked if it might be possible to use the phone for a quick call home as our cell phones had not been working along this stretch of the PCT.

It was if Howard had uttered a magic incantation that had propelled us into a parallel universe.  We were Dorothy trying to get into Oz.  “Why didn’t you say you were on the Crest Trail,” Billie Fiebiger exclaimed.  “We always have enough food for PCT hikers.”  In fact, Billie gave us the key to the city.  “Use the showers (please) and the pool.  Make yourselves at home.  Come back at 7 p.m. although you may not be seated until later.”  Still shaking our heads at our good fortune and this rather mysterious turn of events, we hurried back to tell Don and Eli the news before the spell was broken.

As the four of us returned the dark clouds that had dogged us the past several days were building quickly.  But, the warm showers and the hydrothermal pool kept us occupied until the rumble of thunder became more aggressive. Within minutes the remaining blue patches of sky vanished.  Lightning forced us reluctantly to vacate the pool.  The hail drove us for cover under the eaves of the bathhouse.   The gusting winds pushed tentacles of rain toward even the most protected corners.

Valiant employees raced down the trail to the pool in an electric cart to rescue the castaways three per trip.  The meadow had been transformed into a Sargasso Sea and the pyrotechnics kept us all jumpy.  Eventually we were deposited in the Lodge where we were to wait until dinner.

The photo albums and memorabilia in the Lodge deepened our appreciation for just what a special place Drakesbad is.  For two generations the Sifford family had built and tended this Guest Ranch.  For over 60 years they reclaimed the facility after each harsh winter for its four months of annual operation.  It had to be a labor of love.  The facility was incorporated into the National Park in 1958.  For the past 19 years, Ed and Billie Fiebiger have served as the hosts, caretakers, and stewards of Drakesbad.

Ed, in his chef’s apron, called us for dinner.  We crossed to the dining hall and were promptly seated.  There were several choices of entrees.  Or, Ed suggested, “Try them all!”  Heaping plates were brought to each of us.  The folks at the adjacent table took a special interest in our story.  One of their group had come annually for nearly fifty years.  Another from their table was sent back to their cabin and instructed to return with some of their wine stash to be shared with us.  “White or red?”  “No”, she instructed her husband, “bring one of each.”  We were peppered with questions and asked quite a few of our own.  We soaked up the attention that comes with being minor celebrities.

Ed pulled up a chair.  He had a bigger than life quality and exuded a warmth that permeated the hospitality of this magical place.

My cynical side wanted to peer around to make sure that we were not being fattened up by some wicked witch.  But, Drakesbad is a place that replenishes your faith in the generosity of the human spirit.  Distrust, doubt, and skepticism have no place here.

And, there was desert too.  In fact, there were three kinds.  “Try them all!”

It was tempting to linger much longer than we did.  I confess that it was all I could to restrain myself from asking if they served breakfast too.

Eventually we said reluctant goodbyes and enthusiastic thank yous.  The rain had stopped by the time we walked back toward our campsite.  If we weren’t walking down the road with our arms around each other, singing and talking loudly, then it felt like there was that sense of conviviality. 

The storm had spread our clothes across our campsite and sent cascades of water around our tents.   But there was nothing capable of dampening our spirits on this magical day.

[lokidrabbles]

Hold My Hand (Loki x Reader)

Reader goes through an episode and begins to question their feelings for Loki

A/N: This is another angst ridden oneshot, which originally was intended as this super agonizing break up story, but I was able to end off in a much lighter note. Though I am not terribly ‘proud’ of this one, perhaps some of you can find some comfort in it! As always, Gender Neutral Reader! Warnings: Angst, mentions of depression, potential break up

The realization hit you like a barrage of bricks, and it was absolutely horrifying. The truth had been displayed right in front of you, and while the past year was wonderful and unbelievable, it had to be said. You had an instinct to declare it to yourself, so the tantalizing dream could finally break away.

You couldn’t be with Loki, because you didn’t love him.

Or, at least, you weren’t sure if you did.

A relationship with him was simply idealized in your head like a made up fantasy. You grew extremely close to him, and soon he became the first thing that would pop in your mind each day. It was wonderful to feel that same thrill, that same ecstatic excitement you had missed for so long. For a while, Loki had become your totem, a way to motivate yourself each and every single day. A role model who had overcome such travesty, and would help you push yourself to your fullest potential. He made you feel things you’d never imagine you could feel, both emotionally and physically. The best way you could describe it was an exquisite high, one you wished you would never run out.

It would all diminish as time passed on, and the extreme guilt overwhelmed your once content self. The same familiar cloud began to hung overhead, plaguing you with the worst intention. You had been using him as a way to replenish your long missed happiness. And it was the most selfish thing anyone could possibly do to him. You’d begin to recall the many nights you had selfishly coerced him to stay with you, an effort to avoid your loneliness and satisfy all of your physical needs. He would always comply, and you figured it was because something frothy like this with a human wasn’t as morally compelling for someone who was over a thousand years old.

But it was still using him for such a egoistic reason. And so you began to question whether the feelings you shared for him were based on something genuine, you actually being in love with him as a sole person, or because he paid attention to you, and kept you away from those debilitating memories.

The discourse in your head would soon begin to affect you, and it wouldn’t take long for Loki to begin to realize it.

Your energy around him began to dwindle, and his random pops into your home would almost be unnoticeable. It was as if your feelings or him, or anything relating to him, had completely hardened. The facade became exhausting, and soon your expression would too become hardened.

Loki, as introspective as he was, took a bit to catch onto it. He would fully come to confront you however once he saw you physically tense up at his playful hand over your waist. You had never reacted like this before, and the message was loud and clear. You did not want to be touched by him, it was just to difficult to deal with.

Your usual chipper walks back to your home were now silent and swift. You still felt some obligation to talk to him about what has been plaguing your mind, but even looking at him would cause physical discomfort. You were terrible, and you felt unworthy of even standing next to him.

An evening, one shrouded by a crescent moon and scattered night clouds, would finally provide you with the courage necessary to confront him. You recognized he was able to sense your nervousness, and began the excruciating conversation.

“What have you been hiding from me?” He asked, but you interpreted it as something more of a command.

You felt a lump form at your throat, still avoiding to look at him in the eyes. “I don’t think...we should be together anymore.”

He halted in his steps, as you continued to walk a couple ahead of him. You stopped however, remaining still, waiting for an answer.

“You’ll have to run that by me in a better way.” He said, his voice still firm.

You turned towards him, only looking at the path over his feet. “Just what I said. I don’t want us to be together anymore. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.” Your voice was hoarse, holding back the lump still.

The air became heavy, and Loki was still immobile with your words. He then scoffed, and chills ran through all of your body. “Right, of course.”

As if on response, your eyes began to fill up, the burning sensation making it difficult for you to notice. All you could do was nod. Pathetic.

“Could you, at least explain to me why?”

You weren’t really sure why, but a part of you wanted to scream out and tell him to just forget about what you said and go back to how it was. “I don’t want to be with you, that’s why.”

“Look at me, human.” He demanded again.

“Loki, I can’t-”

You felt his touch at your chin, and you flinched again. Loki stepped closer to you, and used his hand to raise up your face to finally look at him. You expected his expression to detail his rage and disappointment towards you. Indeed, you had used him like some fanciful thing to take away your insecurities and solitude. And you knew Loki was not a man who appreciated being toyed with. You braced for the worst, but was met instead with the look of a man who appeared....fearful.

Loki’s gaze darted all over your face, and you could notice the twitching at the corner of his lips. His eyes would too become glassy, shining with the dim moonlight. You had never seen him like this, but still felt disconnected from it all. You were disgusting.

“I’ve felt you pull away from me, from my touch, and I’d imagine I must have upset you in some way. But, this?” He said, a small nervous laugh escaping from his mouth. “I don’t...have I hurt you?”

You were so disgusting. “No. I’m sorry, it’s not that.” Your voice continued to linger, low and unfeeling.

“Tell me.” He said, and you noticed his jaw trembling. “Say what’s on your mind.”

You disconnected from yourself completely, wanting to avoid feeling the pain of your own words. It was better this way after all, and if it mean severing your connection from him, then so be it.

“I don’t...feel love for you. I don’t think I ever did. I’m so sorry for misleading you all this time. It’s just, I don’t think its fair to you.”

His face fell hollow. The shine is his eyes vanished, and he removed his hand from under your chin. It had been done.

“You are indeed, the worst kind of human I have ever encountered.”

You couldn’t breathe, and your body went numb. This was it, and the journey would be long and grueling. He hated you now, despised you.

Through the tormenting reality, you then felt him grip your arm harshly. You yelped, but it was soon cut off by Loki’s palm landing firmly over your forehead. He pushed your head backwards slightly, and you began to feel a warm sensation at it’s nexus. You felt your eyes roll at the back of your head and began to lose touch with your present reality, all too quickly.

Your vision became hazy, and smoky figures began to take form and shape in this new space Loki had throw you in. You began to hear murmurs of people talking, and the images and voices would become more apparent. Your memory would take its full shape, and two distinct figures fell into place in front of you.

It was you and Loki, together. You both were together in your home, sharing a warm drink across your kitchen table, squabbling about something you still couldn’t make out. Your voice would pan out, and the conversation would prick at your ears.

“If you ask me, I think you’re abilities are much more handy to have in combat than whatever Ironman’s fancy suit does.” You heard yourself say.

“If only everyone else shared your magnificent introspection of my combat ability. Alas, I am only restricted to certain things. Of course, I know exactly why, but it’s not very fun.”

“Well, I have a feeling you have a very skewed notion of fun, Mr. Mischief.”

“I think you humans have a very boring perception of fun.”

“But! We are still very charming in other ways, yes?”

You saw him roll his eyes, while swirling the hot drink in his hand. From an onlookers perspective, you saw yourself beam and giggle at his reaction. The smile forming across your face was addicting, and you had seldom seen yourself in such a way. Your hair was a mess, you wore unfitting clothes, and your face was natural and bare. It was a heavy contrast from Loki, who was wearing a well fitted suit, but it was something you did not bother to worry or feel conscious about. You knew how to be happy, that was for sure, but lately it was all amiss. You were happy during this moment however.

“Charming, in the sense that you seem to get an enjoyment out of my distress and suffering? Then yes.” He said, jestingly of course.

“Oh, I’m not that mean to you, am I? I just poke a little humor at you so you don’t feel so awkward with me.”

“I believe we are past that, aren’t we?”

You remembered how you had felt your hear flutter at his words. “What would that mean for you then, Mr. Mischief?“

“Perhaps this courtship has worked its way to my satisfaction. Or perhaps you are just fun, that is all.” He had shrugged casually, knowing he was teasing at you.

You sputtered a laugh. “Courtship? Sheesh. Let’s just call it dating and maybe we can work through that instead.”

“Dating is for children. If you’d like for me to be more bold,” You saw his hand reach over the table to hold at yours. “ This is my way of saying, that I have grown very fond of you.”

“Go on.”

He smirked. “I will admit, I was very apprehensive at first, especially considering the circumstances of our coming about. Also, I have a bad history with humans as it is.”

You saw yourself place your other hand over his, and you recalled gripping it tightly, as a way to demonstrate your own fondness over him. “It’s weird for me, to have you say that. Because I’ve come to known you for the person that you are today, and that’s why I’m always so excited to see you every day.”

“Then we share the same energy. I cannot promise you, however, that things will be...what you would consider ‘normal’. I hope you comprehend there’s a lot of baggage I carry with me still.”

“I guess I’ll have to ask you the same in regards to me.”

“I can tolerate anything you’ll throw at me dear, in that you can have my word. I’ll support you through everything.”

“Can I tell you something, that is completely vulnerable and embarrassing?”

He nodded, and you saw how you had worked up your own courage to reveal something you had long forgotten about.

“I haven’t really felt like this about anyone in such a long time. It’s scary, especially considering you’re an alien to me, but I think I can say I lo-“

“Stop. Stop it. Don’t.”

You had completely forgotten about this too. You had come to discover about Loki’s inward embarrassment for when someone would flat out mention those three little words to him. You recall how his mouth twisted, and how he averted his gaze at you, as if to hide to pinkness in his cheeks.

“Oh my god, you really can’t hear it, can you?” You had asked teasingly.

“Don’t push it. We were having such as great conversation, and then you-”

“Oh, Loki I love you sooooo much!” You exclaimed, with your own mischievous smile.

He got up from his seat in a huff, walking away into your living room while murmuring something along the lines of how much he hated you and how it was all a mistake. You skipped behind him, still saying those words in a sing song manner. You heard him raise his voice at you, but it all became muddled once more. The fixed image began to smoke and haze out, now left with puddles of memories. It began to roll off, leaving a single pinpoint of light and you felt your body transported back to the present. Your eyes rolled back into place, and you gasped heavily.

You pushed Loki off of you, causing you to stumble backwards. You attempted to catch your breath, as you began to process what exactly had happened. “What did you do to me?” You asked in between huffs. “What did you do!”

“What’s the matter?” he asked, looming over you. “Surely you’d remember something like that, or perhaps it was too painful?”

“Don’t you ever do that to me again!” You exclaimed, stepping away from him. “How fucking dare you get in my head like that!”

“No, how dare you just toss something like that to the side?” He snarled at you, but you stood your ground. “You really expect me to believe something like that?”

 A rush of adrenaline hit you, furious at how he had entered your subconsciousness, and furious at how he wanted to manipulate the situation. You clenched your teeth, allowing him to release everything onto you, despite it all.

“I’ve simply demonstrated to you exactly what your mind is experiencing. Not wanting to be with me? Very unlikely.” He continued, now completely towering over your.

You couldn’t comprehend the level of arrogance he was showing. “You don’t know what you’re saying. I can’t believe how pretentious you are being about this!” You said.

“You’re acting as if you never knew this about me. However, I did hear something else in your mind.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I do know you, stupid human. You’ve been calling yourself those poisonous words again. They continue to echo inside your mind, and you didn’t bother to discuss it with me. Why?”

The distance between the both of you was smaller now, but Loki hadn’t made a move to lay a finger on you. You expected him to reach out to you, encircling his arms around you, and shushing you, telling you everything would be okay. But you had been pushing away during this whole time know, and perhaps this had been his way to respect your space. You desperately sent out a solemn thought to him, to disregard all of the foolish things you have done and to simply embrace you tightly.

“I don’t know.” You felt the tears stream down your face, as you began to tug at your hair. “I’m so sorry, please it’s not you.“

You toppled downwards on your knees, and unleashed the wave of unrelenting depression and anger. Your wails were horrendous, and they echoed all over the block. You never wanted something like this to happen, and you never wanted to hurt him in such a way.

Shortly, you felt the same familiar warmness across your shoulders and back, feeling Loki’s breath at the top of your head. Your body continued to shake violently, still adjusting to the sudden release of sentiment, but experiencing a huge sense of relief, as if a boulder had been lifted from your back.

“I’m sorry I invaded your mind like that.” He whispered to you. “But I wanted to show you that memory I hold closer and dear to me. I still feel the same, and I hope you still do as well.”

Your mind traveled back to that moment in time, now possibly forever crystallized in your head. Both you and Loki, holding each other’s hands, allowing each other to be as vulnerable as possible, while still providing each other with the utmost security and confidence, as much as any two individuals could.

“Do you still wish to end this?” He asked sternly.

You shook your head, burying your face deep into his shoulder. “No, but, I don’t feel like I should just accept it like this. I fucked up so much, I hurt you-”

“You did not hurt me.” He cut in. “I’m not a child you know. You saw me clearly telling you before, did you not? I will be with you, even at your lowest of moments.”

“I’m so sorry, I do still love you.” You said with a muffled voice.

He let out a low chuckle. “I’ll still recoil upon hearing those words. I do apologize for that, but you have nothing to apologize for. You are the most important and precious thing in the universe to me. So please, promise me that you won’t go through your anguish on your own anymore. For me?”

It had been something you were longing for throughout that night, his own special way of unraveling the mess that you concocted inside yourself. It was that utmost attention to detail which continued to draw yourself to him. He had used this piece of time, this memory which you both shared, not to manipulate or coax you into something else, but you simply remind you. You saw yourself, happy in the presence of this man, and you saw him re-experiencing the same long lost feeling.

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 1, Ch. 6

PART 1: WHERE IT ALL BEGAN Chapter 6 - Christmas Weasley

Nova

It was the last week of October and I think it's safe to say that we finally got used to doing homework and all the professors. Tulip and I are proud to say that it has been 13 days since we last got lost on our way to lessons.

Now that we went through all the subjects a couple of times and it feels more real since we don't have any more introductions in classes, I have to say that I was surprised how well I was doing in Charms. When we did the Levitation Charm I was the first to get the feather flying almost to the ceiling. I also managed to cast Lumos on my first try and so far have been so good that I've earned Ravenclaw 35 points in just that class.

Tulip wasn't doing that bad in Charms either, even though she was beating us all in Astronomy, for which we later found out that her uncle is an Astronomer and has been teaching her since she was 5.

Penny, of course, was exceeding in Potions, something not even Snape could deny. She knew the answer to every one of his questions and when we finally had to brew our first potion, she had to help all three of us not to blow up half of the Dungeons.

History of Magic was still as dull as ever, something even Penny couldn't deny as Tonks told us one day, having dinner, that she was drooling on her notes, after falling asleep in the middle of the lesson. Penny denied the accusation and said that she was just resting her head because she stayed up all night working on her Transfiguration homework.

Speaking of Transfiguration, it is by far my favorite subject! I had no idea how I will do in the class and what exactly was expected from us as every time I saw Professor McGonagall she seemed so strict. I wasn't wrong about that as she gave detention to Tulip the first time she came in class 5 minutes late because she was confident she could find the classroom on her own and get one more piece of toast instead of going with me.

Because I was one of the first to arrive in class, I sat down in the second row on the right side and after a couple of Gryffindors came in I spotted the redhead immediately.

“Nova! I forgot we had this class together!” Charlie sat next to me without even asking if the seat was taken.

“Isn't Jae going to be mad if you don't sit next to him?” I knew now that the boy Charlie was spending the most time with was Jae Kim, a fellow First Year with whom Charlie also shared his dormitory. It was getting quite annoying sending notes across class to each other in subjects we had together so I didn't mind Charlie sitting next to me.

Besides, I wanted to prove to Tulip that she should've gone with me to class.

“Nah, we can't be together all the time and besides I want to spend more time with you.” He grinned at me. “And if it happens that you're good at Transfiguration I can benefit from it as well.” He was taking a couple of pieces of parchment out of his bag.

Perhaps Charlie was going to be great at Divination if he decides to take the subject as I was indeed amazing in Transfiguration. At first, I thought I was just lucky when I transfigured a matchstick into a needle perfectly. Then it also happened with the quill which was in perfect condition transformed from a fork.

Charlie was in awe at first and was excited that I was going to be the one who helps him with his Transfiguration homework. Much to his and Tulip's disappointment, I've made them do the homework in the Library on their own. However, I was with them all the time and I did check and correct it when they were done with it.

After I also cast Revelio correctly on my second try, Professor McGonagall made me stay after class one day to talk about having Advanced Classes in my Second Year if my talent would continue to grow. I accepted at once and I couldn't wait to tell my mum as Transfiguration was one of her favorite subjects as well.

We didn't do any practical magic in Defense Against the Dark Arts yet, but we have learned about a lot of dangerous creatures which Charlie and I always discussed after class.

—

The day after the 'slug incident' as Tulip liked to call it, I woke up very early as I kept thinking about how I have to finish my drawing of Pip. I decided to get out of bed and go down for breakfast alone. I knew I could bring Pip with me so I thought I could finish the drawing while munching on my toast.

I went to the Owlery and for the first time, I had to actually wake Pip up and he wasn't so happy to see me as he wished to sleep for a little while longer. Nonetheless, he gave in to my strokes on his head and hopped on my arm. Together we made way to the Great Hall which was practically deserted except for a couple of Ravenclaws that were half asleep and looked like they were studying for their O.W.L.s.

I put some jelly on my toast and opened my notebook.

“Now, where were we Pip?” I took out one of my pencils. I started working on the feathers again and was quite happy with the progress I was able to make since Pip was too tired to peek at his portrait.

“Good morning, Nova.” I heard a really sleepy voice say behind me.

“Mind if I sit next to you?” Charlie asked, sitting down before I could even answer him. I couldn't help but chuckle when I saw what a mess his red hair was.

“Good morning. What are you doing up already?” I helped myself to another piece of toast, while Pip was trying to get some of the crumbs left behind from my last one.

“We got a lot of homework yesterday by Professor Snape and I better get on it before I forget.” He shuffled a few spoons of cereal into his bowl. “Name and describe seven differences between the Wiggenweld Potion and Blood Replenishing Pooo...tion.” He yawned.

“Seven differences, what did you do to Snape?” I gasped.

“How did you know we managed to destroy a cauldron?” He poured milk over his cereal now.

“I didn't, I just thought you had to do something wrong since we only got three differences.” I put more jelly on my toast as I decided one thick layer wasn't enough. “And how did you manage to destroy a cauldron on your first lesson? We weren't even working with them?”

“Well, one of the Slytherins wanted to show off by performing the Fire Making Charm under the cauldron and it exploded.”

“A cauldron exploded, where?” Penny interrupted my laughing. She had a concerned look on her face. She was followed by Tonks who looked as if Penny woke her up so abruptly that she will never recover.

They didn't even sit down properly when Tulip came running to our table, panting.

“I...thought...I...missed...breakfast.” She said, trying to catch her breath.

“Tulip you have got to get a watch.” Penny chuckled.

“And who is this red-haired laddie?” Tonks reminded me that I haven't introduced Charlie to them yet.

“Oh, right! Sorry, Charlie. Tonks, Tulip, Penny this is Charlie. The boy I told you about yesterday. Charlie this are Tonks, Tulip and Penny.”

“Nice to meet you!” They exclaimed as they each shook his hand.

“Do you mind if he seats with us?” I asked, not knowing if they would be bothered by having breakfast with a boy.

“Get off it! He's one of us now.” Said Tonks while stuffing a huge piece of toast in her mouth. Charlie couldn't help but blush a little.

“Say, Charlie, Penny is really good at potions, perhaps she can help you with your homework.” I said while trying to make Pip, now completely awake, to be still.

“Homework, Potions homework?! What do you need?” Penny was so excited about what I just said that I thought she was going to scare Charlie away from our table.

He just chuckled and told her all about the cauldron, for which of course she scolded him as if it was his fault and then helped him with his homework so much that he was done before the beginning of the first class.

—

On Halloween, the girls and I decided to visit Hagrid and take him up on his offer of rock cakes and tea. We loved how beautiful the whole school was, now decorated in candles, spider webs and there were pumpkins everywhere.

We made our way down to Hagrid's hut, announced of course, with a letter Pip took to Hagrid one day prior. Hagrid was delighted that we were going to visit him and told us to come down after breakfast. Even though it was Wednesday, the lessons were canceled for the Halloween celebration which was happening at dinner.

Once Hagrid's hut was visible, we could see he has decorated it with webs and there were pumpkin patches all around it.

We knocked on his door and could hear a bark, which could only have come from a really small puppy. When Hagrid opened the door, a soft grin on his face, Penny got knocked down to the floor by Fang to which we got introduced after we helped Penny get up.

We promised ourselves not to say anything about Hagrid's rock cakes as indeed they were hard as rocks and kept making excuses that we have to save ourselves for dinner. Tea, however, we didn't mind and we drank about 5 kettles of it. Hagrid told us all about why he is living on the Grounds and he couldn't stop saying nice things about our Headmaster Dumbledore as he was very grateful for the position he gave him at the school.

It was almost time for the dinner celebration in the Great Hall when I had to wake Fang, who fell asleep on my lap because I couldn't stop scratching him behind his ear. He got off me not very happy about it and we thanked Hagrid for the tea and the cakes and ran up to our Houses to change, our stomachs growling as we didn't eat much at Hagrid's.

The feast was even greater than the one we had on our first day at Hogwarts. Of course, Tulip and I were a bit bummed as Tonks and Penny couldn't join us. For bigger celebrations and events, students had to sit at their House Table.

When the feast officially ended and a lot of students left the Great Hall we could finally be joined again. Charlie also sat down next to me, looking a bit blue.

“What's wrong, Charlie?” I asked while Tonks was still nibbling on a chicken leg.

“It's my birthday in December and this is going to be the first time I spend it on my own. Of course, I have my brother Bill...”

“And us!” Penny interrupted him. I could already see her planning a birthday party for him.

“Wait, your birthday is in December?” I finally looked away from Penny's cheering face.

“Yeah, why?” Said Charlie a bit cheered up.

“My birthday's in December too. When exactly is yours?” I asked.

“The 12th.” Charlie said surprised.

“Hers is on the 14th!” Penny showed excitement for me.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun! You two can celebrate birthdays together!” Said Tulip, mimicking Penny. I chuckled as I knew she was only doing so to mock her.

“Wicked, I would love to!” We were all so excited that Charlie completely forgot he was sad about not having his family here for his birthday.

“Why don't we go down to Hagrid's and celebrate there?”

“Oh, that's a great idea, Tonks! Nobody will bother us and we can have some of Hagrid's delicious tea.” Penny applauded Tonks.

“You guys are friends with Hagrid as well?” Charlie beamed.

“We just met him today officially but he is amazing and so nice. How do you know him?” I said while putting the finishing touches on my Pip portrait.

“Oh, I have been going there since the first week. Ever since I saw he has a puppy. How adorable is Fang?” We all nodded in agreement. “And he is giving me all these amazing books about animals and he promised me to take me into the Forbidden Forest next year. I keep trying to persuade him to take me this year but he reckons I'm too young and we could both get in trouble.” Charlie sighed.

“That settles it then.” Penny said slowly as I could see she was debating in her head why would anyone in their right mind want to go to the Forbidden Forest of their own free will. I, on the other hand, couldn't wait to get Charlie alone to ask him to owl me as soon as Hagrid agrees to take him, as I would love to join them.

“We just have to figure out how to bring some of our own food, since Hagrid's rock cakes aren't the best to, well, chew on.” Charlie clutched his lips as if his teeth were still hurting from biting into Hagrid's cakes. We all chuckled in agreement.

“I think Tonks and I can handle that one.” Said Tulip proudly.

I scribbled a message for Hagrid on a piece of parchment and gave it to Pip. However, he refused to go before I showed him his portrait.

“Alright, alright. Here you go.” I turned the notebook to him. He tilted his head for almost 90 degrees and stared at it for a couple of seconds. Tonks and Tulip who were on the other side of the table looked as well. When Pip hooted in agreement that he likes how I portrayed him, I turned the notebook to Penny and Charlie who felt left out for seeing it last.

“Another brilliant drawing, Nova.” Complimented Charlie.

“You are so talented. I wish I could draw like this.” Penny said, disappointed.

“You can't have both a pretty handwriting and know how to draw.” Tonks rolled her eyes playfully at her.

“She's right, you do have pretty handwriting.” Charlie said, half to himself as he was copying some of Penny's Potions notes. Penny couldn't hide the blush on her cheeks so she pretended to talk to Pip.

—

My birthday has always been amazing but nothing compared to the one I had with my friends at Hogwarts. As planned, we all gathered at Hagrid's on my birthday after we finished our lessons on Friday.

Charlie and I almost got into a fight as we couldn't decide when to celebrate. I was quite alright with celebrating my birthday on his birthday so that he wouldn't have to wait for two more days, while he insisted that it would be rude to me not to celebrate my birthday properly and that his birthday was in the middle of the week anyway and was more convenient to do it on my birthday which was on Friday. I agreed after Charlie didn't want to hear another word about it. He even waited until Friday to open all the presents his family has sent him. Of course, we also invited his brother Bill, who was delighted to accept the invitation and was very happy to see Charlie was finally doing well and finding more friends.

We had so much fun that night at Hagrid's. We drank tea and ate so much food which we later found out Tonks and Tulip smuggled from the Kitchens. Of course, they didn't want to tell us how they got in and kept giggling instead, every time we asked them.

Fang was rather conflicted as Charlie and I fought who was going to pet him next but he didn't complain at all when we finally agreed that sitting in front of the fire, both scratching him at the same time wasn't so bad either.

Even though Hagrid's rock cakes stayed untouched, he surprised Charlie and me with a birthday cake. It had 13 candles on it, pink frosting, and Happee Birthdae Charlie and Nova scribbled on it. Charlie and I each went on one side of the cake, looked at each other, closed our eyes, and blew our candles.

I've made a wish to always have such an amazing time with my friends as my First Year at Hogwarts has been nothing but great so far.

It was then time for us to open presents. Charlie got a jumper with the letter C on it from his mum. A bag full of candy and firecrackers from his twin brothers Fred and George. Something that Penny named a Rubber Duck from his dad, with a note attached that he should see if it floats on the Black Lake and a brand new edition of From Egg to Inferno: A Dragon-Keeper's Guide from Bill, for which Charlie jumped up so much that Hagrid's hut shook a little and we all laughed.

Tonks and Tulip gave Charlie a scarf with a Dragon embroidered on it. Penny gave him a book on Potions for easier understanding and I gave him a book I've made myself. I called it Fantastic Dragons and How to Train Them. Inside were my drawings of every known species of Dragons and descriptions of the most important details to know of each breed.

It seemed I've made everyone speechless, as they were staring at the book, while Charlie was slowly turning the pages, as his cheeks became slightly pink. He then put the book down and gave me the type of hug my mum usually gave me when she was super proud of something I did.

I got a scarf from Tonks and Tulip as well, just that mine had a Niffler on it. Penny bought me a set of magical pencils that dependingon how you rub them draw in different patterns. Bill gave me a new notebook with a special type of paper that changed colors depending on what you draw on it and Charlie gave me a necklace that had a little Dragon as a charm.

He showed me that if you rubbed the Dragon gently, it would breathe fire and I was in awe of how thoughtful his gift was. I put it on at once, bending my head down as I tried to hide my watery eyes.

Hagrid's gift for both of us was a set of 10 tea bags he made especially for us and we each got a book about Magical Creatures called The Creature Care.

That night when we finally said goodbye and Tulip and I climbed the stairs of the Ravenclaw Common Room, our family owl Waffle was waiting for me on the window shelf of our dorm. I opened the window to let her in and I took the letter and the present from her.

I must've frowned when I was reading the letter as Tulip rushed to my side. “Nova, what's wrong?”

I looked at her, sadly. “I think I'm going to spend Christmas alone.” I said miserably.

“My mum wrote to me. She was sent for Azkaban duty during the Christmas holidays and my dad is stuck in Egypt as they've just discovered a new tomb.” Tulip sat on my bed, putting her hand on my back, rubbing it in circles.

“Blimey Nova, if I knew I would've asked my parents to stay.”

“No, no. It's fine. You should go home and see your family. I know you can't wait to see your parents again.” I sniffed as my nose clogged from tears gathering in my eyes.

“We ALL want to see our families, Nova. You could ask Tonks or Penny if they could stay.” She tried to cheer me up.

“No, no. Penny has to go home as her sister can't wait for her to tell her all about Hogwarts. And Tonks, even though she doesn't want to admit it, misses her parents as well.” I put on a fake smile. “I'll be fine, really. I'll have Pip and I can play with all the amazing presents you guys gave me!” Tulip smiled at me, trying to hide that she felt sorry for me.

That night I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking what will I do for the Christmas holidays all alone. I didn't think this was going to happen and as much as my aunt could be annoying squeezing my cheeks and feeding me her not-so-tasty pie, I was seriously considering going to her for the holidays.

But then I remembered. I didn't know if Charlie was leaving home for Christmas. That's when I decided to owl him in the morning, to ask him what his plans for the holidays were.

I woke up with the sun gently brushing my face. I wrote Charlie a letter, asking him about his Christmas plans and thanking him again for the necklace, which I was still wearing.

I sent Pip to the Gryffindor Tower in the hopes that I wouldn't wake him up. I knew how much he liked to sleep in.

Pip found me not even an hour later in the Courtyard. I opened Charlie's letter at once.

Hi Nova,

I am so sorry to hear that you won't be able to spend Christmas with your mum and dad. But Bill and I are going home, mum misses us too much.

If you'd like I can ask her if you can join us? I'm sure she wouldn't mind.

Love, Charlie

I smiled at how small his handwriting was. Christmas with the Weasleys? Bill and Charlie were so amazing, I think their family can't be any different. I sent Pip back with a reply that if his family really wouldn't mind I would love to spend Christmas with them at the Burrow.

The next week went by as fast as you can say Kneazle. Our professors gave us so much homework to do over the holidays that I kind of regretted not staying at Hogwarts.

Penny in the meantime, couldn't stop talking about all the Muggle pastries her dad was going to make, for which Tonks and I couldn't deny, sounded delicious.

Tulip was waiting to pack almost until the last day, while Penny scolded her that she should've done it already and that she has been packed since the weekend of my and Charlie's birthday party.

The day before I was supposed to go spend time with Bill and Charlie's family Tonks, Penny, Tulip, Charlie, and I were sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast. Charlie was just explaining how each year they enchant a gnome and put it on the Christmas tree without their mum noticing. Which gave a brilliant idea to Tonks and made Tulip laugh so much that I thought she was going to fall off the bench.

I was about to put a spoon full of cereal in my mouth when an owl flew straight into my bowl, splashing us all with milk. Errol hooted confusingly as she had a couple of corn flakes on her head. Tonks flicked it off her, while Charlie took the letter she had tied around her ankle and frowned.

I placed my head on his shoulder as I read the letter with him.

My dear Charlie,

I am sorry to say that you and Bill ought to stay at Hogwarts this Christmas. Your brothers thought it would be funny if they set a whole package of Filibuster's Fireworks off in the living room.

Thanks to them, we are going to spend Christmas cleaning up the mess they've made. I would rather see that you, Bill, and your friend Nova spend a nice, quiet Christmas at Hogwarts.

I have already written Dumbledore a letter to sign you up on the list of students who are staying for Christmas as it is too late for you to do it.

Don't worry, you'll still get your presents and know you will be missed greatly.

Please give this letter to Bill if he's not reading it with you.

Love and lots of hugs,

Mum

“Oh, Charlie I am so sorry.” I hugged him.

“What's going on?” Asked Penny confused.

“My bloody brothers, that's what!” Charlie said, so mad that even his freckles got red.

“Language little brother.” Bill came to our table and upon seeing Errol playing with Tonks said: “What did Fred and George do now?”

“They blew up the bloody living room with them fireworks they always carry around.” Charlie was still frowning and gave Bill the letter.

Bill rolled his eyes slightly then smiled at Charlie.

“Look, we can make a nice Christmas for ourselves right here, can't we Nova?” He winked at me to encourage his idea.

“Yeah, we can celebrate here, see how the Castle looks in the snow. Perhaps have a snowball fight?”

“Hey, I want a snowball fight!” Tonks intervened.

“It's not going to be the same. I miss mum and dad, and Ginny and Ron. Even Percy and those cheeky trouble-makers.” Charlie frowned at the last few words. “And how are we supposed to celebrate Christmas with Nova? She is not allowed in our Common Room. We won't even be able to open the presents together.” He added.

“Charlie, listen. We can work something out. We can be here in the Great Hall on Christmas Eve for as long as they'll let us and then in the morning we can bring our Christmas presents here and open them together, what do you say?” Bill ruffled his hair.

“Oh, alright.” He said and let Bill squeeze him in a hug.

Later that afternoon we said goodbye to Tonks, Penny, Tulip, and Jae as they were all packed and ready to go to Hogsmeade Station to catch the train home.

On Christmas Eve it was just as Bill promised. We were sitting at the Gryffindor Table eating as many gingerbread cookies as our stomachs were letting us. I was drawing in the notebook Bill gave me while he was still explaining to me how exactly the enchanted paper worked. Charlie was trying a new hairdo on Pip, which he didn't appreciate as much as he appreciated the attention Charlie was giving him.

It was getting rather late. The time passed so quickly as Bill and Charlie were telling me all the stories of their previous Christmas when Fred and George almost set the Christmas tree on fire. How they were happy when they found out they are finally getting a sister and how their brother Percy is something else in the family. Bill then told me the secret recipe for Christmas cookies their mum makes every year to which they made me swear I will never tell her that I know and how their dad was obsessed with everything Muggle-related, which explained the rubber duck Charlie got for his birthday.

We then said goodbye as the boys went to the Gryffindor Tower and I went to Ravenclaw's. When I woke up in the morning, I couldn't help but feel excited. I put Tulip's Christmas present on her bed and as the Hufflepuff Prefect stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas as well, I decided to ask her, if she could put Tonks' and Penny's presents on their beds.

I put on a hoodie and the most comfortable pants I could find as I was still full from the previous day. Then I grabbed all my Christmas presents that were waiting for me at my bedside and rushed to the Great Hall.

Bill and Charlie were already there and Charlie beamed with excitement when he spotted me.

“There you are! What took you so long!” Charlie hurried me to take a seat at the Gryffindor Table.

“He meant to say good morning, he is just too excited for the presents.” Bill apologized on Charlie's behalf. “See, mum felt so bad that Charlie and I couldn't come home for Christmas that we both got an extra present.” Bill explained Charlie's excitement.

I chuckled as Charlie threw all of them on the table.

“This one's for you Nova,” he handed me a big soft package wrapped in red gift paper. “And this one.” Continued Charlie, as he gave me another, now a smaller soft package. “This one is from me.” Charlie beamed proudly as he gave me yet another present.

“If this one is from you, who are the other two presents from?” I was in awe at how many presents they had for me.

“Well, this one is from me.” Bill shook the small package Charlie gave me before. “And this one,” he said while blushing a little, “is from our mum. She felt bad that she couldn't meet you.” Bill chuckled as he pointed at the red soft package.

I gave Charlie and Bill each their present. Charlie opened it at once and he gasped when he saw what he got. I got him a snowball in which I recreated the Burrow as much as Bill could help me in detail.

“Since you can't go home for Christmas, I thought I'd ask Bill to help me bring home to you.” I smiled. I couldn't help but notice that his eyes got watery.

“Th-thank you.” Was all he could say, his eyes still on the snowball.

I got Bill a new Gryffindor tie as his old one was looking rather ghastly after he didn't take proper precautions in his last Potions class.

I opened their mum's present first and when they saw what I got they both chuckled. It was a navy blue Christmas jumper with baby blue N in the middle.

“Mum gives us one every year. When you get a Christmas jumper from our mum, you officially become a Weasley.” Charlie grinned.

I didn't know what to say. I took off my hoodie and took a while to get the jumper over my head so that I could cover my red cheeks. It was so soft.

��I love it! I didn't get anything for her though.” I felt bad.

“Don't worry, Nova. She doesn't make these to expect something in return.” Bill showed on the jumper he was wearing. His was burgundy with a golden W on it, while Charlie's was green with a red C on it.

I then opened Charlie's present which had a little notebook in it. “It's a self-doodler.” He explained excitedly.

“A self-what?” I opened the notebook and found it empty.

“You turn to the desired page, tap it with a wand, and whisper the creature you would like to see. Try it. He took my wand out of my back pocket and handed it to me.

I tapped on one of the pages and whispered: “Niffler.” Something started to form on the page. It was as if someone was drawing the creature in front of me.

“It draws all common creatures on your demand. The sketch stays there until you close the notebook. I thought it might come in handy when you draw.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Char...Charlie, this must've cost a fortune.” Was all I could say as his gift left me speechless. I looked at him and caught him quickly glance at Bill. I looked at Bill and he winked at me, indicating that he helped Charlie to buy me the gift.

Lastly, I opened Bill's present and chuckled when I saw it was a hat. It was amusing to me that we both got each other a piece of clothing.

After we ate our breakfast and opened the rest of our presents, Bill sent everything upstairs while we got dressed and headed outside. It was beautiful as snow has been falling all night and all morning. We went through the Main Courtyard and decided to go down to the Black Lake where we had an epic snowball fight and I couldn't help but think of how jealous Tonks was going to be when I tell her about it.

After 2 hours in the snow, we were practically freezing, so we decided to pay Hagrid a visit before heading back up to the Castle for dinner. He made us hot chocolate this time and Bill and Hagrid were in a heated discussion about creatures that might be found in ancient tombs as Charlie and I played with Fang.

I said goodbye to the boys and returned to the Ravenclaw Tower with the biggest grin on my face. I was wondering if mum and dad would be mad if I said that this was the best Christmas of my life. I completely forgot that I wasn't home for Christmas and by Charlie's excitement and the smile he had on his face when we parted ways I think it's safe to say that so did he.

[jaehotbuns]

high school

rating: pg - 13

word count: 7207

characters: you x mark 

genre: university!au, best friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst

song recommendation: high school - umi

summary: out of chance in your third year philosophy course, you reconnect with Mark Lee, your best friend and first love from high school who abruptly left after you two confessed to each other on your prom night. you both can’t help but fall for each other again but you can’t shake the thought out of your mind, why did he leave in the first place?

[tuesday, 4:29pm] 

Your excitement for meeting new people at the beginning of your summer semester quickly diminished as you were grouped with the worst combination of people that you could have ever imagined. Usually you didn’t enjoy group work but when your professor announced that the 10% participation portion was to write a short summary of your group’s discussion on the week’s reading and lecture, you were looking forward to hopefully making new friends and an easy A. However, once the ball started rolling on the topic for this week’s topic, your group mates started to “debate.” You didn’t know how in any context where debating included two people not listening to each other and simply saying, “I understand but…” before continuing to ignore any counterpoints of the opposition and merely restating their stance. 

While Haechan, the curly haired boy with a whiny voice was arguing with Yeri, the pretty well-dressed girl with the high-pitched voice, you slumped down into the study room’s uncomfortable faux leather swivel chairs and rested the side of your head on your hand which was supported by your elbow that was digging into the chair’s arm. Although the position was uncomfortable, at least it allowed you to direct one ear to the group and the other to the corner of the room to block out their constant bickering. You tried to interject so that you could get them to share their opinions civilly but they brushed off your attempts and continued to go at each other’s throats. So for about ten minutes you summarized their points in a Google document and your own, and then sat for the remaining time considering no one else had contributed in a thoughtful way. 

As you looked down at your phone’s time, you noticed that the fourth member of your group was still missing. You were envious of them, at least they didn’t have to sit around and listen to a verbal fight on if human beings had consciousness or not and in turn if animals had consciousness if they weren’t able to speak. Your head turned to the side when you heard the soft click of the door closing after a tall slender boy stepped into the room with a four slot case of Starbucks iced coffees in his hand and a pile of textbooks in the other. 

Haechan and Yeri didn’t notice him come in until he set the drinks down on the wooden circle table and started to speak, “sorry I was late.” He huffed as he settled down into another chair and set his belongings down on the floor, “the line for textbooks was crazy but I had to line up before they were sold out hahaha.” He laughed awkwardly as the two looked at him and shook their heads. “I got us all drinks to make up for it!” 

It seemed like they knew him before as they muttered a “whatever” before each grabbing a drink to replenish their vocal cords to continue their bickering. You looked at the boy with jet black hair, which was sticking to his forehead with sweat from his run from the university’s bookstore to the library which was a good kilometer. He’s cute, you thought as you looked at him clumsily slip his laptop out of his black backpack which matched his black jean jacket, black t-shirt, and black jogger pants. But something was unsettling about him, you felt like you’ve seen him before. 

“Hey,” you sat up in your chair and swirled your chair to face him. You introduced yourself and watched him as he jumped slightly as he furiously typed into his keyboard to bring up his lecture notes as the upright student that he was, he didn’t want to be a burden on the team although every meeting was only worth 1% out of the ten. 

He came out of his trance and turned to you and smiled, “sorry I forgot to introduce myself to you!” He gestured to Yeri and Haechan, “I already knew them so I forgot about introductions altogether haha.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck shyly, “my name’s Mark Lee, nice to meet you.” 

Your head tilted to the side in familiarity and realized why he felt familiar, “no way!” Mark also tilted his head to the side, confused at your exclamation. “Humberside High? The Mark Lee?” 

The Mark Lee who was on the basketball team and volleyball team even though he was a sophomore and didn’t hit puberty until his junior year which resulted in him as the shortest member on both teams although the players were his age or only a year older. The Mark Lee who was confident in his flute skills from touring with his middle school band but was rejected from the high school band. The Mark Lee who was sighing all day when you were trying to study from because he was rejected so you had to buy him ice cream to cheer him up. 

“How would you like your eggs?” You asked him, trying to suppress your laughter from your memories of him in high school. 

He seemed to have forgotten your inside joke as he could only answer with an “ummm…” 

Your lips pursed as you were slightly disappointed that he didn’t get the joke right off the bat, “I see your memories are just as bad as your flute skills.” You folded your arms across your chest and gave him another chance to remember, “I’m sad, looks like someone doesn’t remember me.” 

Finally you saw recognition flash over his eyes as he snapped his fingers and opened his mouth in awe before giving you the answer that you were looking for. “Cooked!” Both of you burst out in laughter and doubled over in your chairs, with the same fond memory in your minds. 

“Dang, I can’t believe it’s you,” he wiped the corner of his eye from laughing too hard and placed a hand on your shoulder, patting it as if to welcome the ensuing rekindling of your friendship. You were glad that he was still comfortable with you despite not seeing him or speaking to him for at least 3 years. “Do you remember how we’d used to go to Denny’s all the time after school?” 

You slapped him on the shoulder lightly, barely grazing him as his oversized denim jacket took the brunt of your slap, “do you not remember how much you’d embarrass me?” 

“Dang I got such a bad mark on my chem test…” Mark pouted as he gripped both sides of his marked test with his hands, his fingers making jagged wrinkles on the sheet as his grip tightened in disappointment in himself. His walking was more irregular and heavy than usual as you felt the gravel and pebbles kick up onto the back of your calves as you two walked off the school property and onto the sandy patches next to the road, towards the bus stop. 

You peered over his shoulder to see his mark and saw a bright red ‘79’ with a quickly drawn circle on it. Usually with your other friends you would roll your eyes and say “that’s a great mark, if that’s a bad mark what does that make me?” But with Mark you knew the high standards he put on himself despite juggling AP classes and two sports teams. And telling him that would only guilt him. He would think “I shouldn’t be complaining” along with “I’m still not good enough.” 

So instead, you decided to take him somewhere that you knew he would be at ease, even if it were only for an hour or two. “Hey, let’s go to Denny’s,” you proposed. Mark’s sad eyes left his paper and was now looking into your eyes. 

“You’re only inviting me to make me feel better,” he mumbled with pouted lips. You smiled as you saw his hold on the test sheet weaken. 

“Well, it always works,” you replied before snatching the paper out of his hands and folding it neatly so that the two ends lined up. “You can always do better next time! For now let’s enjoy the rest of the day.” You went around to Mark’s back to open up the largest pocket of his backpack to slip in the test and out of the corner of your eyes you saw his lips curl into a smile as he placed his hands into his pockets. 

Due to his mark that fell below his standards, Mark’s pace was slower and that meant the two of you took longer time to make it to the bus stop. When you heard the sound of an engine behind your heels, you knew the bus was approaching. You and Mark were still approximately 100 metres away from the bus stop and had to make a run for it unless you wanted to walk 30 minutes to the restaurant. 

Without warning, you grabbed Mark’s hand and pulled him in the direction of the bus stop. Although for the first few seconds you were dragging his much taller and lanky body, he got the message and matched your pace to dash for the muted yellow bus that was about to pass. Your eyes were straight ahead and determined to make it on time, but as Mark ran behind you with his arm outstretched in yours, his eyes were smiling in crescent moons and a soft pink tint was present on his cheeks. 

Once you made it on the bus, you two plopped down on the 3rd row to the right window where you usually sat. He let you have the window seat as always, because you liked to look at the passing houses and trees and he liked to look at you smiling at the scenery. Little did he know that you could see his reflection in the window glass, grinning and admiring your face. He also didn’t know that you were smiling at his face and not at the view either. 

 Both of your hearts were still pounding from the short time of contact, but you were glad that you could use the excuse of running and being out of shape to blame your fast heartbeat. Unfortunately for Mark, he was an athlete for no justification for his fast heart rate to cover up the fact that he liked holding your hand, especially when you looked back at him to make sure that he wasn’t slowing down. When he saw the wind blow your hair back to frame your face, your bright smile, and shine from the heat; he was glad that you turned around instantly so you couldn’t see him smiling up to his cheeks. 

He snapped out of his trance when you stood up and pat his head to signal him to follow. He stood up and stepped out into the aisle so that you could step off of the bus first. Both of you thanked the bus driver and walked with light feet towards the Denny’s parking lot. They didn’t have a street entrance as usually only drunk people stumbled in from the parking lot or their Ubers, or the high school theatre kids after their performance in their parent’s cars. 

You two settled down into the booth seats next to the window, your favourite as there was a neon pink sign right above you which gave a retro feeling, and started to look through the menu. “Hmmm, I want something sweet and savoury tho,” you said as you were deciding whether to get a breakfast grand slam or tres leches pancakes. 

“We can get both and share,” Mark said, barely skimming the menu before closing it and setting it down on the slightly sticky diner table. He couldn’t stomach the sickeningly sweet pancakes and would much rather have waffles or a simple smoothie but he never minded sharing the pancakes with you if he could see your eyes light up when you took your first bite. He just hoped that you had a big appetite today so that you could eat the majority of the dessert so he wouldn’t have to eat more than half, knowing how much you hated to waste food. 

“Are you sure?” You asked with suspicion as his eyes barely touched the menu. It seemed like he only opened the menu to wait for you to make up your mind and for him to agree to it. “It’s supposed to cheer you up, after all.” 

He nodded with certainty and took the menu out of your hands to stack his and yours for the waitress to take easily when it was time to order. “Seeing you stuff your face already cheers me up,” he grinned and placed both of his elbows on the table and folded his hands together. He was smug with his discrete compliment that was disguised by a teasing remark. 

“Pfft,” you rolled your eyes and gave him a stank face although you could see through his intentions. You were about to look away to avoid his intense stare until the waitress came at the perfect time so you had an excuse to not look at him. “I’ll have the tres leches pancakes, thank you.” 

She turned to Mark with her pen in one hand and the notebook tucked under with her other hand, “and for you?” 

“The grand slam please,” he said. 

“How would you like your eggs?” 

Mark looked confused, which also made you confused because why would that question make him confused? You’ve been to Denny’s dozens of times but this was the first time Mark was asked how he’d like things to be cooked. And with no cooking skills or knowledge, he blurted out his answer which sounded more like a question, “uh cooked?” 

You were embarrassed as you saw the waitress hold back a suppressed laugh as she pressed her lips together at the teenage boy who still had no idea how to answer the question properly. “Sunny-side up please!” You answered for him and handed her the menus. 

“That’ll be right up,” she smiled and grabbed the menus from you before walking behind the counter to place your orders. 

With heat rising through your neck to your temples and cheeks, you slapped Mark lightly on his arm. “‘Cooked?’” You asked with disbelief. “Obviously they’re going to cook them! She wanted to know how you wanted them cooked!” 

With no embarrassment whatsoever but rather an insightful expression with his confusion resolved, he nodded and said an “ohhh… That makes more sense.” 

You shuddered at the memory while all Mark could do was look at you and laugh. She got cuter, he thought as he smiled while watching your face scrunch up in second-hand embarrassment once more. “I’m still haunted by that memory, I can still remember it as if it were yesterday,” you sighed with a hand clutching your shirt over your heart. 

He put both his hands up to his side and shrugged, “and to this day I do not feel embarrassed.” He leaned back into the chair smugly with his arms now folded across his chest, “you live and you learn.”

Compared to him, who was a total dork that was loved although clumsy in both speech and manners, you internalized every single moment that he messed up or said something off. It was as if the shame that he missed was transferred to your body to suffer instead. “I’m glad you think so.” You scrunched your nose at him and shook your head at his nonchalantness. “I just hope you don’t answer ‘cooked’ the next time you take a girl out to a fancy restaurant.” 

Mark sighed and moved his arms from their original folded position to hold the back of his neck again, “if only I could get a date.” For some reason, once he said that you were relieved. There was no reason for your relief as you two lost contact for three years but knowing that he was single and had trouble finding someone was reassuring. 

Who were you fooling though; you were afraid of falling in love with him again. 

[saturday, 6:54pm] 

It’s been two weeks since you reconnected with your high school best friend and first love. And like back in high school you two were glued to each other by the hip once again. From sending each other memes at 2am when both of you were tired yet weren’t bored enough to put down your phones, to studying at the library to only get food and talk for the rest of the day when either of your stomachs started rumbling; you felt as though you were transported back 3 years. 

Despite reliving the fun memories, you couldn’t help but think about why you and Mark stopped contacting each other 3 years ago. However, that story was for another time and you knew that it was inevitable for you two to talk about it to find closure. So for now you focused on the problem that you were faced with; you were running late. 

Mark suggested going to the drive-in movie theatre an hour away from campus to watch The Matrix since it was assigned as a reading for your philosophy of human nature course. You weren’t so sure about being in an even more cramped space than a small study room with Haechan and Yeri no matter how much you liked them after getting to know them. If anything the car would amplify their sibling-like spat or even worse, they talked throughout the movie. 

Luckily for you; Haechan had an essay due that night that he had to write due to his poor planning and procrastination and Yeri had a volunteering event that she held for her club as the Vice President. Unbeknownst to you, Mark had actually begged the two not to come so he had an excuse to bring you to a romantic date spot considering the both of you only hung out for school related activities like catching each other between breaks or to study on the weekend. As the innocent boy that couldn’t tell you any white lies, they actually did have those things to do but the previous day. With that justification, he felt like he didn’t lie but rather stretched the truth. 

On the side entrance of your dormitory, Mark was in his car with his phone in his hand trying to craft a text message to send to you. He wanted it to seem nonchalant but a little flirty as if he was up to pick you up from a date to hopefully give you butterflies. He had been doing that for 10 minutes already as he arrived 15 minutes early from the time you two agreed on; 7:00pm. When he looked at the time from his car’s radio, he saw that you were running five minutes late and hurriedly wrote a text because he was afraid that you forgot or ditched him. “Hey, I’m out front. You good?” 

You cursed when you saw your phone light up with his text as you sprayed your fruity floral perfume on your neck and behind your ears. You spent too long picking your outfit, shoes, accessories, and even which body gel would go better with your perfume that you took nearly two hours to get ready for a seemingly chill movie session for school. When you looked into the mirror before heading out the door, you hoped that your cardigan and jeans, beachy hair, and light accessories didn’t look too much. 

Once you slipped on your sneakers and rushed out of the door, you nearly tripped over the pavement until you grabbed onto Mark’s black Mercedes-Benz passenger door handle. You pulled it open and plopped inside the car. You were out of breath from rushing down four flights of stairs and nearly tripping, and from the nerves of being in a car with Mark for at least 4 hours. “Whoops sorry I’m late,” you huffed as you placed your bag onto your lap to let the seat belt lay comfortably over your torso. 

When you entered the car suddenly, the air blew the sweet smell of your perfume and mix of mango pineapple body wash over to Mark. His cheeks flushed a light pink as he saw your face with a pinky spring makeup that was different from your everyday neutral. He didn’t know how much prettier you could look in his eyes. A soft cough escaped his mouth which prompted him to place his hand over it when you suddenly settled into your seat and looked over at him. 

“Do you think we’ll be on time for the movie?” You asked. He shook his head from the daze that your scent and pretty face caused him to fall into and started the engine. 

“We should be fine,” he said confidently before placing his right hand on the back of your headrest and using the other to steer. When he leaned in closer to you, you were taken aback and for a second thought he was going to kiss you until his head looked towards the back of the car to back up and get out of the circular entrance of the dorm. You watched the muscles of his neck clench slightly as he pulled out of the driveway and turned back around to start driving out of the city and to the highway. 

You weren’t used to how much Mark had grown. Back then you liked him because he was cute, dependable, and shy. But now he was buying you snacks in between classes to make sure you ate, staying on the phone with you when he knew you were coming home from lectures late so that you weren’t scared and so that he knew you were safe, and even knowing how to effortlessly drive like the male leads do in rom-com movies. 

To divert your attention on how darn good Mark looked with his freshly washed hair, white jeans and black hoodie, you ran your fingers through his fluffy hair. “Who knew we’d meet each other again all grown up.” Your slightly cold fingers would graze against the back of his neck occasionally, sending chills and shivers down his spine while his hands gripped the steering wheel. 

Three years didn’t seem long but it did wonders to Mark’s appearance. Mark was always attractive even with his shy and quirky habits. Girls from your grade would say, “hey did you notice that Mark is kinda cute?” But they never made a move because the only girl he was comfortable with was you. That’s what you thought, but really he was only interested in you and he didn’t want to talk to other girls in case you got the wrong idea. His plan backfired when you thought him avoiding girls for your sake was him being hopeless around the opposite sex.

“Why? Did I get mature?” Once you were at the stop light, he turned his head to look at you and you turned to face him as well.

“Yeah,” you smiled with your hand still on his neck. “We both grew up.” He wasn’t expecting you to agree with him. He was expecting a typical reply that best friends gave each other like, “you wish,” or “no you’re still ugly.” Mark was getting his hopes up that you didn’t see him as a friend but as a potential boyfriend but like you, you both had to talk about why he left 3 years ago. 

He was relieved when the traffic light turned green so that he had an excuse to avoid your loving gaze which he mistook for nostalgia. “I remember I didn’t even have my driver’s license yet,” you recalled as you slipped your hand on his neck and onto your bag, knowing that you had it in your card case along with your student ID. 

Mark chuckled, “hey, it doesn’t make a difference.” He waved his finger up and shook it at you with his eyes still on the road. “I drive you everywhere to this day.” He was right. Every late night drive to McDonald’s when you were tired of creating troublesome bibliographies and when he was sick of trying to figure out why his Python code didn’t run was in his car. 

“Back then I asked my mom to drive to you,” you recalled. 

His eyebrows lifted in surprise, “what? Your parents would’ve killed you if they saw you going out with a boy!” 

You nodded and laughed in agreement, “I’d have her drop me off at Mina’s and I’d walk all the way over to your house.” 

Mark chuckled in disbelief and shook his head, “her house is 20 minutes away! You’re crazy.” 

“Only for you,” you winked and shot him a finger gun when he looked into the rear view mirror. He suddenly took his eyes off and put his head out the window slightly to cool his blushing face off. Satisfied that you managed to make him shy you straighten your back into the seat smugly, “what is this? Are you getting shy? Did Mark really grow up?” 

Out of embarrassment he said loudly, “hey! I’ll drop you off on the side of the road if you keep teasing me!” 

You put your hands up in surrender with a wide grin across your face, “oops, I won’t make that mistake again.” He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and calmed down after a few meters. “But I know you’d never do that to me.” 

How could she be so sure, Mark thought even though he would never forgive himself if he did anything relatively mean to you. 

Because you like me, you thought to yourself. You always have. 

But then another thought disturbed your mood, so then why did you leave? 

You brushed your hair so that it gathered behind your back; every strand of hair signifying every negative moment from the past as you two were nearing the drive-in theatre. The sun was setting and the clouds were transitioning from a warm orange to a soft indigo blue. Tonight, you wanted to enjoy your time with Mark and you could have a serious talk with him next time. If he doesn’t leave you again, that is. 

After Mark paid the attendant at the booth in front of the parking lot, he drove to a spot dead center so that both of you had an optimal view of the screen. If you drove to the very front then the screen would take up your field of vision and ruin the ambiance of watching a movie during sunset simultaneously but moving too far back would mean that you couldn’t see what was happening. 

With only another car parked at the very back left corner of the lot, you felt as if you and Mark were in a separate world than the outside. Once the opening credits started to roll in, you pulled a bag of maltesers and gummy worms out of your bag as well as a ten dollar bill. Mark snagged the bag of gummy worms but grasped your hand that held the money between your fingers and slipped it back into your purse. “Keep it,” Mark said. 

Both you and Mark watched the movie, occasionally popping a sweet treat into your mouth but both of you had watched the movie before. You watched it in high school economics to learn about how Neo might have been Karl Marx and the society was actually capitalism, and Mark watched it on his own time ten times because he loved the movie and wanted to dress up at Neo for Halloween until he realized that he didn’t look as good as Keanu Reeves but rather resembling a shiny roll of black licorice. 

The two of you could care less about the movie or even watching it for discussion which was worth a meager 1 percent out of your final mark, but also two didn’t want to talk which would admit that you both wanted it to be a date. Way to be more mature about your feelings, you thought.

When the movie was finally done, you noticed that the sky was now pitch black. The car behind you left, which you could see from the side mirror, and the ticket attendant probably left early knowing that it was the last movie for the night and that no one would come to a drive-in theatre in the middle of nowhere on a Saturday night. Except for two people who wanted to go on a date without admitting it was a date of course.

Once the ending scene was done, the screen turned black which caused Mark’s car to lose all visibility as well. Although there were four street lights that shone in the parking lot, you could barely see anything without any headlight. You heard the jiggling of keys as Mark fished them out of his pant pockets until you heard him curse lightly. “Ugh, I dropped it.” 

“The lights,” you said as you raised your hand to the car’s ceiling to turn on the interior lights so that he could find the keys. When you finally felt the smooth plastic button, you pushed it and the pale yellow light brightened up the car immediately. “Oh…” You said out of surprise when you realized Mark’s face was centimeters away from yours as he was also looking for the light switch. 

You expected him to blush and turn away like he always did when your faces got close together. Like when you drank out of your straw when he was drinking out of his milkshake or when you leaned in close to him to pull an eyelash off of his cheek. But this time he leaned closer, his gaze falling from your eyes down to your lips.

Your arm fell limp to your side when he placed his index finger from under your chin to lift up your head. Your eyes closed as his soft pink lips came in contact with yours. Two of his warm hands cupped your face as he leaned in closer and kissed you more aggressively. Your hands grasped his forearms and felt the overflowing love that you two had kept from each other from all those years spent apart. 

Mark pulled away to look into your eyes, “I-”

“Don’t say it,” you smiled sadly. “If you say it I might lose you again.” 

[tuesday, 1:23am]

Ever since your kiss with Mark, you two continued to act like normal surprisingly. He wasn’t avoiding you and even if he was, there was no way in hell that you would let him out of your sights again. You still met with each other, texted each other, and behaved as you normally would. You weren’t pretending that your feelings weren’t mutual or that the kiss didn’t happen, you two just didn’t bring it up. 

“Do they usually drink like this?” You asked with Yeri’s left arm slung around your shoulder as you placed her carefully into the Uber that you called for her and Haechan. 

The two of them decided to celebrate your “awesome teamwork” after finishing the semester with a perfect 10% on your participation mark. “It was really because you transcribed their arguments,” Mark whispered when the two of them shouted at how high their mark was because of the participation boost. 

Grateful for having members to do the work for them, they decided to treat you and Mark out for drinks. “Tab on us,” they announced proudly as they downed tequila shots while you and Mark had only a fruity cocktail each which contained a maximum of two shots. 

“Yes,” Mark groaned as he pushed Haechan haphazardly into the seat next to Yeri. They folded against each other as they were about ready to pass out. You prayed to the stars that they didn’t throw up into the poor man’s Uber. “Please take them home safely,” he said after securing seat belts for his classmates and closing the door. 

After you two watched the car drive off, you stood in awkward silence. You both didn’t want to go home yet, but someone had to initiate an invitation. “You hungry?” Mark asked. 

“Kinda,” you replied with a smile. You knew where this was heading.

“Denny’s.” The two of you laughed after saying the infamous drunk food, I mean breakfast diner, chain. 

You walked with him slowly to the diner that was conveniently located within walking distance of the bar that you had just left. Your feet swung off the concrete surface with every step, kicking off small pebbles to hear the satisfying sound of the soles of your shoes against the rough surface. 

“Remember when I left,” Mark said suddenly. 

You shivered at his words, prompting him to take off his bomber jacket and place it onto your shoulders. You didn’t shudder because of the breeze but because you were dreading talking about what caused your relationship to end abruptly. 

“How could I forget?”

“Cheers!” Mark exclaimed, holding up his shot of whisky next to yours. 

“Cheers!” You repeated after him and clinked your glass to his. You quickly downed the hot liquid which burned your throat as travelled down and coated the inside of your stomach. “Oof,” you nearly gagged at your first sip of alcohol as it reminded you of fuel but like the slightly sweet smell. “What a rollercoaster,” you said, trying to seem cool. 

“How’s this for a prom!” He said laughing at your wrinkled face as if he didn’t spittle a little out of his mouth in surprise at how bitter alcohol really was. 

You both wanted the prom experience but hated the theme for this year. “Tropical fairy,” you remember looking at the poster and squinting your eyes in distaste. “What kinda theme is that?” 

Mark nodded at your dislike and shook his head at how little effort went into the planning. Your high school was hit with a bunch of budget cuts, university admission changes, and faculty switches which led in students with less time to plan and on top of that less money. So instead of the fancy prom that you envisioned at an elegant French bistro where your school always held it, this year was at a retirement home with catering from a pizza place. Not even a fancy pizza place that had arugula. It had pineapple pizza, which you loved, but still it wasn’t fancy.

So here you were, having our first taste of alcohol with Mark in Montreal where the drinking age was only 18 compared to Vancouver where it was 19. He begged and pleaded with his dad to borrow his car to drive for the weekend trip and you had to convince your mom that you were going with Mina and not a boy you had the biggest crush on. 

“Do we have to take more?” You asked, half excited and half terrified of drinking more. 

“Of course!” Mark exclaimed. “I didn’t drive this far and pack for a trip if we're only going to take a single shot!” 

If only you knew he was going to tap out after two tequila shots and a white Russian. “I think it would be good if I stopped here,” he said, burping slightly as he pushed the empty glasses away from him. His face was glowing slight and you saw him sway slightly. 

You laughed, also a little tipsy but no where near the state he was in. 

After you two paid the bill, you sat in the nearest local park that you could find and Mark instantly laid down in a snow angel formation once you found a clean patch of grass. You cringed at the thought of leaving soil stains on his dark blue suit as he laid flat on the ground but his face was so at peace you didn’t care enough to scold him. 

You squatted on the grass carefully to avoid sitting down and ruining your deep red ‘prom’ dress which was really a FashionNova knit dress that made you look like you were ready to take pictures for instagram. With your white sneakers planted on the soil, you hugged your knees into your chest to balance yourself. 

“Hey,” Mark whined when he opened his eyes and saw you not committing to his coming of age, angsty, lying in the grass with his best friend who he’s secretly in love with-moment. His hand grabbed your forearm lightly to take you off balance so you could plop on the ground next to him. Your knees swung towards the patch of grass next to him and your head landed neatly on his chest. Before you could sit up, he placed his hand on your head to keep it there, brushing stray hairs out of your face. “Stay like this,” he slurred. 

You laid like that with him with your heart beating out of your chest and thousands of thoughts running through your mind. He was never bold like this. He’s probably a touchy drunk you thought. “Did you know that I’ve liked you since freshman year?” The alcohol was definitely affecting him. What a lightweight. 

“Obviously,” you chuckled. Your muscles were relaxing from their previous tenseness from his abrupt actions. “You thought you were so slick but I always knew it.” 

Even from his voice, you could hear his surprise and the fact that a pout followed it. “Wait what?!” He said in his high-pitched voice whenever he was shocked. “Why didn’t you say something about it?” 

“I didn’t want to be the first one to confess,” you said. Even though it took you all four years of high school and you could only do it when you were drunk, you thought. 

Like the clueless teenager with little experience with girls, he was still confused with your ambiguous confession. “Wait… that means…” 

“I like you too, you big head dummy!” You sat up with his arms and shook your head at him, embarrassed that he didn’t get your confession right away and also shy at the fact that you were basically sober and confessing to him when he was way past tipsy. You turned your head away from him to feign annoyance. 

“Hey,” he said. He sat up and held both sides of your face with his warm and callous hands. His deep brown eyes were looking intensely into yours. You couldn’t bear to look at him for long without blushing, but luckily for you, you closed your eyes when his lips came into contact with yours. 

You weren’t sure if it was his first kiss or not, but it was sloppy and rushed. It felt like he was releasing all of the pent-up passion for you ever since he realized that he liked you when you both met in your art class and started a conversation when he sprayed dark blue paint over your light blue denim jacket when he was trying to make the splatter effect with a paint brush. You didn’t mind though, because it was your first kiss and you didn’t know if he was good or bad without any reference. 

He pulled away slightly and rested his forehead gently on top of yours, “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

You chuckled lightly to yourself as you recollected that night. Both of you didn’t even know what love meant yet said that to each other in the heat of the moment. Or maybe Mark said that as a goodbye, a last minute confession before he’d leave you. 

“What?” You said as Mina dropped the bomb on you. 

“He didn’t tell you?” She asked, completely shocked that you weren’t the first person he told considering you two never spent time apart. “He moved to Korea for university.” 

For three months you two were texting back and forth, FaceTime calls whenever he could, and phone calls when you two had free time but were too embarrassed to show your faces because now you both had confessed but weren’t official yet but still not as comfortable as just friends now either. He said he was only going to Korea for the summer to visit his family. 

“Why wouldn’t he tell me?” 

Out of hurt, you started to send him less frequent messages and began declining his calls or attempts to FaceTime. Out of confusion, he stopped trying to reach you and the short lived relationship dissolved just like that; before it even began to bloom. 

While you two were talking about what happened, you had already arrived at Denny’s and sat in a booth with your orders already sent to the back. “So,” you said dryly while stirring the cubes of ice in your glass of water with your straw. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“You know how we planned going to university together,” he started to explain with his gaze fixed on the corner of the table. “It was your dream school and we were so excited to become roommates and take electives together because you were in Arts and I was in the Science department…” He corrected himself, “well planning to be anyways.”

Mark paused, looking up to try and figure out how to verbalize the whirlwind of emotions that caused him to keep the truth from you in the past. “I realized that I wanted to study in Korea when I was there for vacation. I dropped everything and I didn’t know how to tell you I decided on my dream school over you.” 

Your eyes shot up to match his in disbelief, “Mark! I wouldn’t hold you back. I would understand you, I would support you. Why would you keep that away from me?”

“Because I didn’t know if it was my dream school if you weren’t there,” he sighed. You were surprised and at a loss for words. You knew he had a crush on you but didn’t know how much it affected him where he was deciding on something as important as school over you. 

“So why did you come back? And when you did, why didn’t you call me?” 

“I came back because I don’t know,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his coke. “It didn’t feel the same as Canada, I felt lonely.” Sure he had friends, but he didn’t feel the same connection to them as he did back to the ones he had in his hometown. “I didn’t call because I didn’t think you’d want to see me. Especially after those dry messages.” 

You nodded and realized that both of you messed up. He failed to communicate his desire to go abroad and you didn’t even ask him why he suddenly left. “So us meeting again was really fate huh?” 

“You could call it that,” he smiled. His hand moved cautiously over the table to hold yours, nervous that you would pull back and reject him. “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers intertwined with his, “I’m sorry too. We were both too young.” 

“So, will you take me back?” His eyes were twinkling with hope.

“Mark,” you said. You watched him gulp, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down with nervousness. “You never lost me in the first place.” 

author’s note: ahh thank you for reading my writing and making it through to the end! i love umi’s song high school and basically just wrote this based on the lyrics haha. is it just me or did denny’s get worse? like i used to go for the food but now I just go for the nostalgia lol. anyways, please head over to my inbox for ships, requests, or if you just want to talk i’m always online nowadays lol. but for now; stay safe, stay healthy and happy! i’m here for you no matter what you’re going through. thanks for reading!

[always-anxious612]

My Love

Description: Roman has a crush but is also an insecure mess. 

Genre: hurt/comfort

Paring: Logince

Warnings: crying, panic attack, self deprecation  (let me know if I missed anything)

           Roman had a problem. How did he know he had a problem? Well, it was fairly obvious by the way his face was flushed, by the way the butterflies danced in his stomach, by the way he so uncharacteristically stumbled over his words. What was his problem you ask? Logan. He—He liked him…a lot. It wasn’t his fault that the way the nerd’s eyes lit up when he talked about something he liked was so endearing, or that the logical side’s laugh, however rare, was so beautiful. It wasn’t his fault that Logan was just…so amazing. Roman sighed, looking down at the script he was supposed to be writing. He had been wracking his brain for days, trying to finish it on time. Now, Logan needed it by the end of the day, and Roman couldn’t disappoint him. He had already done enough of that. At the thought, the lovesick grin that had been on his face a moment before slowly slid off. 

Right. He had disappointed Logan far too much to be hoping for a relationship with him. Logan hated him. Roman was the complete opposite of him, pure fantasy and big dreams, no logic allowed. He rubbed at his tired eyes before trying to focus back on his work. He could feel a headache coming on, and it seemed his poor sleeping schedule over the past few days only made him feel worse. He was a mess.

He didn’t even realize another sigh had slipped from his lips or that there was another person in his room until someone cleared their throat behind him.

“Roman, I presume that’s the script you’re working on?” a familiar monotone voice asked. Roman swallowed down a sudden nervous lump in his throat and turned to face Logan.

“That it is, my dear nerd. It shall be ready for your inspection in due time.” He announced, sincerely hoping his words were true.

“Excellent…Are you alright Roman? Your face seems to be quite flushed. Do you have a fever? If you’re sick, you needn’t worry yourself with the script today.” Logan offered. Roman felt his face burn even more at Logan’s attentive stare.

“No, No I’m fine, my love.” He replied trying to wave him o—wait, no. He didn’t. He couldn’t have just—

Logan blinked at him in surprise, confirming his worst fear. He had just called Logan my love. Right in front of his face.

“Roman, I—”

“Ok, I’ll have the script to you soon. Alright? Alright goodbye then!” Roman panicked, shoving Logan out of the room and slamming the door. He couldn’t believe it. How could he be such an idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Roman sucked in a breath and slid down his door to rest on the floor.

“I’m such an idiot.” he whispered to himself, feeling hot tears start to slide down his face.

Pathetic he chastised in his head. Crying over a small slip up. But—what if Logan never talked to him again outside of their roles in the video? If Logan hadn’t hated him enough before, he’d definitely hate him now. Roman sniffed, rubbing at his eyes; but attempting to stop the tears was futile. He just—

“Roman, please.” A voice on the other side begged. “You didn’t give me a chance to respond.” Logan’s voice only worsened Roman’s pain. He gasped, clutching his chest. This was pathetic. Panicking over a saying two simple words. Roman felt the door bump against his back.

“Are you sitting in front of the door?” Logan asked. “Please, Roman, I just—” another panicked gasp as Roman tried to dampen his crying and get control of his breathing. Silence on the other side of the door.

“Roman, can you breath for me? In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. You can do it.” Logan coached through the door. Roman tried to follow the instructions, he really did, but all he could manage was a garbled sob that caught in his throat and made him spiral farther.

“Roman, its ok, try again.” Logan encouraged. This time he counted out the breathes, knocking on the door for each beat. After a few minutes of the breathing exercise, Roman had calmed down enough to move out from the front of the door. Logan rushed in, carefully kneeling in front of the Prince.

“Roman, may I hug you?” he asked softly. Gulping, Roman looked into Logan’s eyes before nodding hesitantly. The gentleness with which Logan held him was something Roman never knew the “cold” logical side was capable of, and Roman found himself burying himself in the hug, inhaling Logan’s scent.  

“I’m sorry. I—I overacted.” Roman whispered after a couple of seconds.

“You don’t have to apologize, Roman. While you didn’t give me adequate chance to respond and jumped to a conclusion rather quickly, it can be scary to reveal your feelings, especially on accident.” Logan soothed. “I’m not very well-versed in the area of feelings myself, but I do know that if I were the one to accidentally let that slip to you, I would be in very much the same state of mind.”

Roman felt his bottom lip tremble again at the words.

“But you—you don’t have feelings for me.” He laughed mournfully, face still buried in Logan’s chest.

“Who said that? I missed the part where I said that.” Logan replied softly, making Roman’s head whip up. Logan’s heart clenched in an unfamiliar way when he saw Roman’s red-rimmed eyes and tear-soaked cheeks. Just as bad were the bags under his eyes, indicating his lack of sleep over the past few days. “Roman, I—I may not be good with feelings, but despite my words I do have them. And I have them for you. Romantic feelings, that is. I, um, I have romantic feelings for you. I mean.”

Roman let out a tear-filled laugh at Logan’s ramblings. He—Logan really…

“You mean that?” he asked, barely daring to hope.

“Of course, I do, my prince.”

Roman could have burst out crying again, this time from happiness. Instead, He leaned up, hesitating right before reaching Logan’s lips, unsure and unsteady. Luckily, Logan closed the distance and he leaned into the warmth. He tasted like coffee and crofters. Bitter and sweet, the perfect combination.

“I should have breakdowns more often if it leads to this.” Roman tried to joke once they pulled away.

“Please don’t, my star. I hate seeing you sad.”

Roman couldn’t help the soft blush that settled itself onto his face at Logan’s nickname and the softness in his voice. Gosh, he loved him.

“I’m sorry about—y’know, everything. A-And about the script. I don’t think I can finish it today like you wanted.” Roman apologized, looking away in shame.

“Roman, please tell me that the script is not why you haven’t been sleeping decently or coming out of your room for the past few days.”

“I—Well, it needed to get done, and I was just…in a bit of a creative slump. It’s fine, though. I mean, I haven’t gone to bed that late the past few nights. I just really wanted to get it done. I—I guess I failed.” Roman stammered, not realizing his absence had been noticed by anyone other than Patton.

“The past few nights, I have awoken as I always do precisely at six AM and you’re lamp has still been on every morning. I know for a fact that you don’t get up until nine most days. I am presuming that you didn’t go to bed at all these past nights judging from the dark circles under your eyes. Please, Roman, just tell me next time you’re having issues with the script. I’m happy to give you more time or help you come up with ideas.”

“I—I just…I guess I just didn’t want to disappoint you. I’m sorry.”  

“You could never disappoint me.” Logan assured softly.

“Yeah right.” Roman muttered under his breath. Logan tilted Roman’s head up, cupping his face gingerly.

“I promise Roman. You could never disappoint me.” He repeated, a firmness in his voice and fire in his eyes that Roman had never seen before. Even with Logan’s reassurance, Roman found he still couldn’t quite let himself believe his words, but when Logan pressed another soft kiss to his lips, he let a smile slowly spread across his face anyway. With a quiet sigh, he slumped against Logan in exhaustion.

“Why don’t you change into something more comfortable. I’ll grab some extra blankets, and we could take a nap? You need to replenish your sleep, and I’d be more than happy to cuddle. I-If you’d like to, um, cuddle, that is.” Logan suggested, blushing slightly.

“Hm, I never thought you’d be the one to suggest cuddles.” Roman hummed, gazing up at his love.

“I don’t mind cuddling. In fact, most studies show that cuddling can relieve stress and anxiety and sometimes can even boost your immune system by boosting your serotonin levels which have been linked to immune system improvement before. It’s also a very good way to get closer to the ones you love.”

Roman giggled slightly as Logan ranted. He loved the way Logan knew a little about almost everything. He loved the way he would rant about the tiniest things. He loved the way he would light up when nobody told him to stop or interrupted his rants. He loved him.

“Is there, um, something on my face, Roman? You—You’ve been staring for quite a while.” Logan’s asked, breaking the creative side’s trance.

“Oh, um, no—You’re just…amazing, Lo.” Roman stammered, trying to recover as a blush lit his face on fire. At least he had managed to reduce Logan to a blushing mess as well.

“I’ll go get the blankets then.” Logan finally said, standing and clearing his throat. Roman just grinned as he left. Logan really, actually liked him. They had really, actually just kissed. They were—they were really together now. And to think that it was all because his tired brain had slipped up and let him say two little words he shouldn’t have. Soon enough, Logan came back, blankets in hand and the two were cuddled underneath the warmth. Roman couldn’t help but admire the way they seemed to fit perfectly together, their legs intertwined, their arms wrapped around each other. Already, he could feel sleep begin to pull at his eyes, making him yawn and snuggle closer to Logan.

“I love you, starlight.” Roman whispered, smiling against Logan’s chest.

“I love you too, Roman. Rest well, my love.”

The words echoed in Roman’s head, Logan’s presence clouding his brain until he finally, finally let himself close his eyes and drifted into the comfort of sleep.

Taglist: @catolicabuena

[noonemonitorsmyscreentime]

Ungodly

Because I, again, lost my goddamn mind I decided to write the fight from S15, ep19 from Chuck’s perspective, sort of. Like it’s from Chuck’s perspective but in the third person because that makes sense somehow. It’s like real short. And obvs fan fiction, but like commentary, maybe, idk. Anywaaay... enjoy?

“You can’t defeat GOD!” thought Chuck as he kept punching and kicking Sam and Dean. He was finally going to make them show him the respect he deserves. How dared two little insignificant humans mess with his story? They were his toys to do as he saw fit. He kept trying to fix them and yet they were constantly broken. At what point do you give up on trying to make them work? 

Chuck couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw those two Winchester bastards rising up after each blow. The constant defiance had lost its cuteness a while back. What would it take to finally beat them?

They could barely stand and had to use each other for support. Together they couldn't make for a whole man and yet, they still chose to try and be two. It really wasn't a fair fight. "Why are you smiling?”

“Because, you lose.” Sam Winchester’s bloodied face was defiant. Maybe he had punched the sense out of the younger brother. Lucifer would have been disappointed to find out that the one who finally broke Sam Winchester had been his pops. But Sam wasn't looking at him. His gaze was fixated on something behind him.

Ha!

Jack. Poor kid was going to see his adoptive dads being beaten to death before he, himself… well, not meet his maker-- before he, himself, would be silenced for good. And with the brothers gone, it would also stick.

What was that silly little child going to do? There was no angel daddy to trade his life for him, his actual daddy, the supposedly new favorite son was soundly sleeping in the empty and his two mommies were in Heaven. This kid did not have a great track record with keeping parents alive. He killed all his moms and all his dads died for him. In any case they will soon. Chuck supposed that the Winchesters could wait a while longer for the next punch. “Hey, Jack.”

He slowly closed the gap between them. The kid was just staring at him. This was too easy. How much fighting had they done and how much pain had they suffered to bring the boy back, and he was just standing in front of him, not even a weapon in hand?

The kid was a great story beat and Lucifer really threw him a curveball by becoming a father. Jack had outlived his narrative expectation to a greater extent than Chuck would have thought possible. He had to admit that his grandson was, as late story additions go, a good one in spite of his cliched beginnings. But how many kids with abusive fathers and dead mothers can you have before it all gets too tedious? He was so innocent, so pained, so tortured and so, so very and thoroughly annoying.

Chuck snapped his fingers expecting the boy to dissolve in a delightfully fine mist of pink. After all, how many times did he need to get rid of the kid to finally make it stick?

 Nothing happened. Jack was still in front of him, mirroring his look of disbelief. He'd give him that just like all the men in his life, he was hard to get rid of. Chuck snapped his fingers once more. Again. Nothing. Jack was still in front of him, but he could see that something was changing in the child. He took a step closer to god.

Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. No more steps left.

The boy put his hands on each side of Chuck’s face while his eyes glowed and the veins in his body became illuminated with a powerful gold light. Chuck had known this feeling before; this incredible river of power leaving him was the power needed for the Creation. But, it was at the same time different; he was not merely being drained of power, he was losing it, never to be replenished again.

It was agony. It was his hell. It was never ending.

When the last flicker of power was consumed Chuck fell to the ground trying to catch his breath. He had never felt so weak. He had never been this weak. He would always be this weak.

He heard a snap and prepared to be disintegrated. Instead he saw Sam and Dean healed.

Sam picked up his book that now lay open on the ground. “What… What did you do?”

Dean Winchester looked at him from above, his face half illuminated by the warm sun, each feature of this perfectly crafted weapon was sculpted and majestic “We won.”

“So this is how it ends. My book.”

By the time he finished his words Sam had arrived near him, book open in hand. “See for yourself” he said as he threw it in front of him.

The pages were blank. There were no words. “There’s nothing there.”

“Oh, there is, but only Death can read it.” Cold chills moved up and down Chuck's body at the younger brother's words. They hadn't known how to beat him. He knew that it was time for the victory monologue. He needed an explanation. And, boy, did the brothers deliver one

!“That’s right. So we had to come up with a plan B. That wasn’t too hard though when we realized that Michael really is a daddy’s boy. See, he didn’t take it too well when he found out that you asked Lucifer for help. Oh, he was desperate to be the favorite again.” Dean stated in a cold voice, some disdain directed to Michael. It was natural after all, one iteration took his body for a joyride of murder, mayhem and world domination and the other tricked and used Adam to bring about the end of times. 

“Since we couldn’t read the book we had to come up with a story about finding the spell, which we knew Michael would feed straight to you” Sam continued. “All that prep work we did to turn Jack into a cosmic bomb? Well, it turned him into a… a sort of power vacuum. He’s been sucking up bits of power all over the place. So, when the two heavyweights -- your boys-- showed up to duke it out, oh-hoh! That charged him right up.” Oh, if only his children had managed to work together all of this could have been so different. With Michael and Lucifer by his side Sam and Dean would have never won.

“See, we knew Michael would warn you and you’d show up here. And you did. And you killed your own son.” This was the fatal mistake, Michael should have been punished last. John Winchester had it right, kill the spirit, not the body.

“And you beat the crap out of us. Releasing all kinds of power. God power.” “Jack absorbed it all. It made him...”“Well, it made him unstoppable.” Dean finished the explanation.

Chuck can’t help but laugh. “This… This.. This is why you are my favorites.”

Sam, Dean and Jack look at each other wondering if Chuck understood anything of what he had been told or if his mind had gone alongside his powers.

“You know, for the first time I have no idea what happens next. Is this where you kill me?”

It’s easy to see on Sam’s face that it's a tempting idea and one that had been given some thought. He looks at Dean, on whose face only disgust is shown. “I mean, I could never think of an ending where I lose. But, this, after, everything that I’ve done to you… to die at the hands of Sam Winchester… of Dean Winchester, the ultimate killer...” 

Both brothers got a long look from the former god when he said their names. In turn they exchanged a glance, cold fury shone in Dean’s eyes, while Sam’s bore a much somber look of sad pensiveness. A quiet conversation was taking place. Sam would follow Dean’s lead, who now held Chuck’s fate in his hands, in what, the former Supernatural writer, felt was an ironic twist.

Chuck laughed in a last attempt to taunt the boys, to make them dance to his music “It’s kind of glorious.” He knew how to push their buttons, he’d done it for so many years. They were as close to a perfect creation as he had ever come. “Sorry, Chuck.” was Dean’s verdict, who moved right along to sentencing.

Chuck cowered in fear. Dean had no weapon in his hand, no magic gun or special knife. No stakes or arrows or even grenades. Death had to come by hand. But it didn’t. “What? What?”

“See, that’s not who I am. That’s not who we are.” They are free of him. Killing is not the only option anymore.

“What kind of an ending is this?” The last sliver of control that Chuck had over his precious Winchesters faded away.

They are his creation! They are not his favorite when they act in unexpected ways that don’t benefit him. Or his story. A little death, then straight to Heaven for some peace and quiet and relaxation. He deserved it. He only knows how much.

“His power. You sure it won’t come back?” Sam asked the kid. “It’s not his power anymore.” Jack replied truthfully. 

Sam gives a short half smile to this. What Jack said is good. “Then, I think it’s the ending where you’re just like us and like all the other humans you forgot about.”

“It’s the ending where you grow old, you get sick and you just die” despite Dean’s mercy, it was clear that it would have given him great pleasure to make Chuck feel a fragment of what the men in front of him had endured for his amusement, but he took content in knowing that Chuck’s own creation would do the job for him. The world would save Dean from killing after all the killing Dean had done for its sake. 

“And no one cares. And no one remembers you. You’re just forgotten.” The final blow delivered with steel precision right in Chuck’s, now human, heart had been made by Sam.

The trio moves towards the Impala leaving him in dust. “Guys… Guys.. wait.”

The engine revs and they drive away to the sound of Chuck’s begging “Guys… Guys! No, wait… G-guys… Guys, wait! Guys, wait! Guys, wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Please, wait! Guys!”

Chuck falls into the dust sobbing.

He has no one. He’s all alone.

“

[ravennawritesfanfiction]

Toss A Coin To Your Witcher (Part 2)

Pairing: Geralt x Reader

Summary: After the initial argument, months pass and things get worse. Once again words are exchanged that change your lives forever.

Word Count: 1129 words

Warning: One swear word and Geralt being a dick.

You honestly have left that morning when you first mentioned it to Jaskier. You also shouldn’t have told him that you wanted to leave. You should have just done it. Things hadn’t gotten “bad” yet. They were just uncomfortable and you could have parted ways and it would have been sad by manageable. Now every night was an uphill battle and you were rarely the victor.

Resentment had settled in your bones. You hated that Jaskier had convinced you to stay. You resented Geralt for not letting you leave when you wanted to and you resented yourself for letting him win. No one hardly spoke to each other while traveling; only when you were asked a direct question did you respond. Geralt had taken to talking to Roach instead of you or Jaskier, Jaskier had been desperately trying to find a new lover to escape this hell hole, and you had just existed. 

“(Y/N), can you go gather firewood?” His tone was more of an annoyed boss who was tired of telling you to do something. He sounded exasperated and a tad defeated. You couldn’t tell if it was directed at you per se or if he had just overall resigned himself to the fact that after the interruption from Jaskier, everything had changed. 

“I got it last time, it’s Jaskier’s turn.” Combative isn’t the tone you had initially intended, however your mouth and brain were not on speaking tone since the words had been forced through gritted teeth. It was harsh, but you decided that you weren’t going to back down now. Maybe you could get the night’s fights over early and then you could settle into uncomfortable silence; your only reprieve from the horrible backbiting.  

“Jaskier. Isn’t. Here.” He enunciated every word like you were a child who just didn’t get it. Of course Jaskier had found a way to escape this mess, even if it was just for the night. He was lucky. 

“Well, then it sounds to me like it’s actually your turn.” it hit you out of nowhere. Clearly, Geralt hadn’t thought that you would notice, but you had. “Me, Jaskier, You. Jaskier isn’t here so that means you are up. Now, don’t be gone too long, it’s getting dark already.” Geralt started muttering to himself as he gathered his sword.

“Fine. If I must do everything myself, I don’t see much reason for you to even be here. You won’t gather wood when I ask, you don’t speak to me unless I speak directly to you first, and lately, you haven’t even wanted to be my nurse either. Jaskier isn’t here, who’s stopping you from leaving now?” He turned and left as the first of the night’s tears began to fall. 

You didn’t want to be awake when he came back. You knew there were more hurtful words where those had come from. You replenished the fire pit and made your way to your tent. You busied yourself with anything that could distract you from what had just happened, but the blurriness from the tears rendered all tasks impossible. You curled up on your bed mat with your ratty blanket and wept as silently as possible. It would be a tragedy if Geralt could hear you.

The top edge of your blanket was soaked when you heard a noise outside. Geralt didn’t even have the decency to be quiet when he can back with his first load of wood. You closed your eyes in hopes that if he checked on you, you would look like you were sleeping. 

When Geralt arrived back, he was surprised to see that all of your stuff had been packed and was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t meant his words and he really thought that you of all people, the woman who lived in his head and knew what he was thinking when he didn’t, would know that he hadn’t really meant it.

“(Y/N)!” He looked all over the little area you camp sat on for any hint of which way you might have gone. He yelled for you in hopes that you pop out and tell him off for being so cruel. But you didn’t. You were gone and he didn’t know what to do. He never thought that he would actually see the day that you left. What would he tell Jaskier when the Bard returned to find his friend had gone without a goodbye. 

He stayed up all night. He knew how little you liked the dark. He knew that that is why you had told him to get the wood himself. He had been so determined to win the battle that he didn’t think about the war. He leapt to his feet when Jaskier came back and was disappointed to see that it wasn’t you. Where could you have gone?

“What do you mean she’s gone? Gone where? For how long? And Why in the middle of the night?” Jaskier was never one to breathe when talking and today was no exception. He was devastated that you had left without at least telling him goodbye.

“I don’t know where she’s gone or I would have dragged her back already, now wouldn’t I have? I imagine she’s gone for good and I don’t know why she left in the middle of the night. I don’t even know how she managed to carry all of her stuff alone or get it packed so quickly. FUCK!” Geralt kicked a log that had been resting near the fire pit and sent it flying. “I said something that I instantly regretted and instead of telling her I was sorry, I just left. Now she’s gone.” 

“What did you say, Geralt?” The bard to an accusing step forward. He actually thought for a second that he may hit Geralt and truth be told, Geralt would have let him. 

“ “Fine. If I must do everything myself, I don’t see much reason for you to even be here. You won’t gather wood when I ask, you don’t speak to me unless I speak directly to you first, and lately, you haven’t even wanted to be my nurse either. Jaskier isn’t here, who’s stopping you from leaving now?” I know I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t mean a word of it, but I said it out of anger and frustration and now… I don’t know where to even begin looking for her.” He started packing his own things in hope of maybe catching you along the road ways.

“You have a really bad habit of saying things you don’t mean. When will you learn?” Jaskier looked at Geralt with a level of disdain neither of them knew was possible. “I hope we find her. She is in danger traveling alone.”

Part 3

[tinsley-goldsworth]

when you sleep, do you dream of me?

summary: dreams and nightmares are all too familiar to ricky goldsworth (week 16 of my 30 weeks of writing prompts challenge: dreams/nightmares)

Wc: 1769

read on ao3!

Before Ricky met C.C. Tinsley, he still struggled with having intense dreams. His dreams had always been shockingly realistic ever since he was a young boy so he always thought it was normal to wake up every morning with the ability to recall the most vivid aspects of his dream. The dreams only increased in intensity when he grew up and the nightmares did as well.

Especially when he was a young child, he was particularly terrorized by nightmares so he constantly had night terrors, which probably should have worried his parents if his parents weren’t constantly sneaking out of the house in the dead of night to murder people. Eventually, the night terrors disappeared but the intensity of his nightmares continued to rise with the intensities of his dreams. 

There was no specific reason that Ricky could attribute to his vivid dreams and nightmares. Maybe there was something in genes that coded for “super intense dreams and really scary nightmares” or maybe Ricky’s brain was just weird (the latter was probably true). 

When Ricky was young, his intense dreams and nightmares were never too realistic; but when Ricky started getting involved in his parents’ business, it came as no surprise that the dreams were more realistic and more relevant to his life. He could still recall the nightmare he had after murdering his first victim.

Ricky had found himself in a graveyard that was empty except for a single tombstone. He had walked towards the tombstone to get a better look at what the engraving read and the moment that he realized that the name of his victim was engraved into the stone, a hand shot up out of the gravestone, splitting it perfectly in half. Ricky was frozen in place as the skeletal hands pushed up out of the ground along with an entire skeleton and when he tried to move, he could only move his head. In the dream, he glanced down at his legs and saw that he, too, was a skeleton and his dream burst into a bright white light just as the victim’s bony fingers wrapped around his skeletal ankles. Ricky woke up from the dream with the impression that he had somehow died while dreaming and was now in hell but to his disappointment, he was still stuck on Earth.

The nightmares that followed that skeleton night were often to the same effect and Ricky was getting tired of constantly waking up drained because the intensity of the nightmares seemed to drain him of energy and ironically, sleep was supposed to replenish your energy. As Ricky waded deeper into the depths of the organized crime world, the frequency of his brighter, light-hearted, and hopeful dreams decreased drastically. Nights were Ricky didn’t wake up in a cold sweat or screaming were a rarity and he was aware that this condition was probably not good for his health.

Then, C.C. Tinsley stumbled into Ricky’s life and brightened his entire world with his adorable dorkiness and innocent determination. Technically, Ricky was the one who found C.C. but C.C. didn’t need to know that. C.C. was involved in a case where Ricky’s old friend was the main suspect and as a favor, Ricky decided to kill C.C. so he could drop the case but as Ricky watched C.C. through the slotted shutters concealing part of his office, he just couldn’t bring himself to kill him. 

In the warm orange glow of the lamp on C.C.’s mahogany desk illuminated C.C.’s smile as he laughed, leaning against the edge of the desk while talking on the phone. He was ridiculously tall and even from afar, Ricky could tell that he would have to stand on his tippy toes in order to press a kiss on his cheek. He was wearing a trench coat that was probably taken straight from the set of a crime show and his smile melted Ricky’s heart into a mushy, molden mess. There were brief lapses in his conversation where C.C. wrote something down on his notepad with a focused expression on his face but even then, he still somehow managed to look stunning.

Later on, when C.C. recounted the story of how he met Ricky, he always started by stating that it was absolute luck that he bumped into Ricky on his way out of the office late at night and Ricky always smiled because he knew that it wasn’t a coincidence. Ricky was so smitten that he waited for C.C. to walk out of his office and “accidentally” ran into him. C.C. was obviously flustered and embarrassed to have run into Ricky but Ricky assured him that it was fine and handed him his briefcase that he had dropped during the interaction and sneaked a note with his number and name into C.C.’s hand. 

C.C. figured out what he was supposed to do with the information and later that night, he texted Ricky right before Ricky went to bed. Then, Ricky delayed sleeping for another hour because he decided to have a conversation with C.C. over text. 

That night was the first night in literal years where Ricky didn’t have a dream. He simply fell asleep and woke up the next morning without waking up in the middle of the night. Ricky felt more awake than he ever had, even when he took melatonin or any drug that was meant to solve his problem of restless sleep.

Maybe that’s why Ricky took C.C. home after their first date together. Ricky never took anybody back to his place because he didn’t really want to hook up with somebody who would end up hearing him scream in his sleep. But with C.C., Ricky had a feeling that he wouldn’t wake up from nightmares. Obviously, Ricky wasn’t expecting to bring C.C. home but one thing led to another and C.C. ended up in Ricky’s bed, not that Ricky was complaining. Ricky also didn’t complain when C.C. decided to stay overnight and he definitely didn’t complain when C.C. rested one arm around Ricky’s waist when he fell asleep. 

Ricky was not used to the warmth of having somebody next to him when he slept but the feeling was comforting so he decided not to fight it. When he fell asleep, he had a calming dream that he couldn’t recall and woke up with a smile on his face. He didn’t know how his dreams suddenly lost their sharp intensity but he realized that C.C. was probably the reason why he no longer feared his dreams. 

With every date that Ricky had with C.C., he almost never had nightmares associated with his work. They decided to establish their relationship somewhere along those many dates but the fiery passion that sparked their love never subsided. One day, after a particularly romantic date where C.C. took Ricky to have dinner by a beautiful river, Ricky had the most wonderful dream of his life. 

In his dream, Ricky woke up in a king-sized bed with C.C. next to him. He got up and got dressed into casual clothes, which he only ever wore on rare occasions when he wasn’t out on business, and as he made breakfast in the large yet organized kitchen, C.C. walked in and pressed a kiss of Ricky’s cheek before grabbing the mug of coffee that Ricky had brewed for him. The kitchen was located next to a set of sliding glass doors and Ricky could see a colorful garden with blooming flowers outside of the house. 

While Ricky put bread into the toaster, he heard C.C. call out two names and footsteps came running down the stairs. Ricky scooped the scrambled eggs out of the pan and into three plates carefully and two children, a girl and a boy, ran to chairs next to the dining table with wide smiles on their faces. He placed the plates down and the children grabbed the forks without any hesitation and wolfed down the food. Ricky smiled at their food-induced joy and he felt C.C. wrap his arms around his shoulders. The dream faded as Ricky woke up with tears in his eyes because of how blissful he felt in that dream. 

That dream provided hope for Ricky that one day he could have that future and prompted him to open up to C.C. about his job. Being a detective, C.C. was concerned to hear that Ricky made a living off doing shady stuff but he decided that they could keep their work lives separate while still being part of each other’s personal lives. So, C.C. and Ricky decided to move in together.

Although C.C. acted as Ricky’s dreamcatcher, in the way that he warded off intense dreams and nightmares, Ricky still occasionally had some pretty vivid dreams or nightmares that would cause him to wake up. Ricky let C.C. know so he wouldn’t be alarmed if he woke up screaming at 2 am. Surprisingly, Ricky’s first nightmare occurred two weeks after he and his boyfriend moved in together.

In his nightmare, he was forced to watch as C.C. was burned alive at stake for a crime he didn’t commit. The fire was so realistic and the flames roared louder than the pounding of his heart. The worst part was that when Ricky tried to reach through the fire to help C.C., his hand disappeared through the body as if he was a ghost. The pain on C.C.’s face was heart-wrenchingly realistic and Ricky woke up feeling like he was suffocating. During his nightmare, Ricky must have screamed because C.C. was awake and he wrapped his arms around Ricky’s shaking body.

Ricky was extremely overwhelmed by the vividness of the dream but C.C. stayed calm and helped Ricky calm down as well. Obviously, Ricky felt guilty for waking up his boyfriend just because he had a nightmare but C.C. didn’t seem bothered at all. In fact, C.C. had jokingly asked, “What was so scary about your dream? Did you dream that I became an octopus and strangled you?”

“Definitely that,” Ricky laughed as he nestled closer to C.C. and after a little bit, he drifted off to sleep in C.C.’s arms, feeling safe and sound knowing that he had somebody who would help him fight off the imaginary demons in his nightmares so he could live in his untroubled dreams.

~

click the link in my bio for more bfu fics!

[ft-dads-au]

Come Into Bloom

Femslash Fairies 2020 Prompt: Flower Shop Pairing: Erza x Mirajane A Collaboration by @mdelpin​ and @oryu404​ AO3 | FF.Net September 25, 2021

“It’s getting pretty crowded out there,” Sherry commented to Erza as she looked out the shop window.

“Hopefully, that will be good for us,” Erza mumbled as she worked on another corsage, this one a pretty combination of lavender and pink flowers.

They were right in the middle of Fantasia, the biggest flower holiday of the year. Unlike Valentine’s Day, which was mostly targeted at lovers, Fantasia was meant for everyone. It was just as likely for a father to give a token to his children, as to his partner, or even his own parents.

Erza had already made Natsu's order that morning, a beautiful flower crown for Hana, as well as a large bouquet for Gray. Atlas, Aki and the twins were getting some flower-shaped cookies that Mira and Elfman had baked and decorated for the boys the previous night as they were a little too young to appreciate flowers.

“Isn’t it about time for Mira to get here?” Sherry asked her employer, smiling as Erza’s hands immediately went to her hair.

“Oh yes, you’re right,” Erza looked back down at her work table not wanting to give away her agitation.

“It’s so nice that you two make a habit of having lunch together every Saturday,” Sherry enthused, with hearts in her eyes. “Are you getting her something for Fantasia?”

“I uhm, hadn’t thought about it,” Erza lied, not wanting to admit that she had spent hours trying to devise the perfect bouquet of flowers. One that would let Mira know once and for all how she felt about her, but with all the orders she needed to fill plus walk-ins, there had been no time. It was only her and Sherry, and she couldn’t afford to hire more employees.

She’d started working at Rose of Yūen during her college days, and once she’d graduated, she’d bought it from the elderly couple who had owned it. It was her pride and joy, but it also took up a lot of her time, the rest of which was usually claimed by her brother and niece and nephew.

Which is how she had ended up pining for the same woman for years and finding multiple excuses to do nothing about it.

The tinkling of the shop’s door alerted them to a visitor, and Sherry went to help their customer, knowing that Erza was about to go on her lunch break. Erza smiled, remembering the special order she had hidden in her office cooler. Ren Akatsuki, Sherry’s husband, would be by to pick it up as soon as Sherry went on her own break.

That was one of the things she loved about having the shop. Most of the time, she got to see the best in people. The shy teenage boy anxiously looking for a corsage for his first date, the elderly couples that were still madly in love with each other even after a lifetime together and everything in between.

There was Rogue Eucliffe who special ordered flowers from Edolas, to give his husband a taste of his home country. And Alzack Connell, who bought flowers for both his wife and daughter at least once a month and would probably stop in today.

Even couples who were rekindling a love thought lost long ago. Silver Fullbuster and Gildarts Clive were probably some of her favorite customers, always coming in full of boisterous insults towards the other, yet the love in their eyes was unmistakable.

In fact, it seemed like everyone around her was either in love or starting a relationship. Even her brother, who had unexpectedly become a widower last year, had already found someone. While Erza remained forever alone.

She was done with that though, after spending the last eight years building up her business and helping Natsu get back on his feet, it was time to do something for herself. To stop pining for her best friend and try her own hand at love. If she didn’t do something soon someone was likely to whisk Mira off her feet, and she’d have no one to blame but herself.

It was while she was lost in these thoughts that Erza felt a soft tap on her shoulder. She looked up to see Mira smiling at her, “You always get so lost in your flowers. I’m gonna go set these up in your office, okay?”

Mira moved towards the office without waiting for Erza's approval, a bag of food from Fairy Tail in each hand. When she noticed Erza wasn’t following, she called behind her, “Hurry up, I brought you a surprise, but if you make me wait too long, I’ll eat it myself!”

Erza put her tools down and scrambled, knowing there was a good chance the surprise was strawberry cake, and she wasn’t about to give that up.

Her office wasn’t very large, but there was enough room for her desk and chair, a watercooler and a small round table with two plastic chairs. Mira had already set out the food, rolling her eyes when Erza’s eyes were already on the two slices of cake that were visible inside a clear plastic container. “How you don’t weigh 300 pounds, I’ll never know,” Mira giggled.

Erza ignored the comment, digging into the chicken pot pie Mira had brought. “Mhmm, this is really good!” she complimented, closing her eyes to savor all the different flavors.

“Yeah, I remembered it was your favorite. I changed the recipe up a little, made it lighter, and the crust a little flakier.”

“Whatever you did, it’s amazing!”

“You really are as bad as Natsu, just as messy too,” Mira laughed fondly, grabbing a napkin from the bag and handing it to Erza, who had sauce dripping down her chin, before taking a bite from her own dish.

“Have you been very busy today with Fantasia?” Mira asked curiously.

“Yeah, a lot of walk-ins, lots of special requests too,” Erza replied, continuing to eat, “What about you guys?”

“It’s still a little early for the drinking crowd, but the restaurant was pretty busy, they had Natsu subbing in for a waiter that called in sick, at least until the bar needs him back. That was uhm, interesting,” Mira’s eyes twinkled with mirth, “Good thing he’s an excellent bartender.”

She leaned forward in her chair, curious as always, “What kinds of special requests?”

“Well, different flowers can mean different things, it’s almost like a language all its own. Like those flowers that Rogue gets for Sting? Those mean everlasting love.”

“Why am I not surprised? Those two are sickening,” Mira snorted, “Is there one that means I really kind of just like you as a friend?”

“Well, there’s yellow roses, they’re not associated with romance. Oh, and alstroemeria,” Erza recited, clarifying when she saw Mira’s blank expression,” It’s a type of lily.”

She got up and opened one of her desk drawers, grabbing a book and bringing it back to the table. She looked through it until she found a picture of the flower she had mentioned and showed it to Mira.

It was a beautiful flower that came in a variety of bright colors, with center petals that had contrasting stripes. Mira studied the picture, and it’s given description curiously, but her attention was soon drawn by other flowers on the page.

"Wow, I never knew that there was so much symbolism behind flowers," she mused as she turned the page, "It’s a lot more complicated than I’d thought.” She looked up at Erza, a devious smirk on her lips and a twinkle of mischief in her eyes that Erza found really adorable, but also a tad bit troubling. “Hey, are there any flowers that have an offensive meaning?”

Erza snorted, immediately thinking about the first time Gildarts had come to her shop with a similar question, “Look up yellow carnations.”

“Disappointment and rejection? Ouch!” Mira giggled, and the sound translated into butterflies in Erza’s stomach. “So, do you know all of these by heart?”

“I know most of them, but there are so many variations, and each color often has its own meaning-”

Before Erza had the chance to get lost in the passion she had for her job, she was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Erza, I’m sorry to disrupt your lunch, but do you think you could come out here for a few minutes? There are several customers and another special order,” Sherry looked apologetic.

While slightly disappointed, Erza didn’t mind too much, she’d already known it was probably going to be a busy day.

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to hurry,” Erza apologized to Mira, wiping her face with the napkin before getting up from the table and rushing out the door, a smile already on her face.

Mira continued eating, grabbing the book Erza had left on the table and flipping through its pages, the beginnings of an idea blooming in her mind.

Erza never returned to finish her lunch, and eventually, Mira had to go back to work, so she cleaned up, putting Erza’s food in her small fridge and leaving both pieces of cake for her to eat later.

Mira hurried to the door waving goodbye to both Sherry and Erza on her way out.

0-0

It had been a long day, both Erza and Sherry had been going nonstop, although Erza insisted Sherry take her break if only so she could get Ren his flowers.

They had sold out of everything in the refrigerators and had to scramble to replenish them. Erza felt like she had seen just about everyone in town. Loke came in to get corsages and flower crowns for his daughters, and a small bouquet for Lucy.

Silver and Gildarts had come in with Rogue and the kids, along with an order from Gray for Natsu. Lyon had surprised both her and Sherry by coming in to get something for Chelia. That had probably been her favorite moment of the day, watching the usually stoic Lyon acting nervous and awkward as he tried to find something special for the daughter he’d just discovered he had.

Almost as lovely as watching Sherry help him pick something Chelia would like. Alzack, Macao, Warren, Cana, Juvia, the list went on and on. About the only person she hadn’t seen was Sting.

Almost as if on cue, Sting raced in, hair disheveled, breathing in gasps and eyeing her worriedly, “Am I too late?”

“You’re fine,” Erza assured him, “We don’t close for another hour.”

“Oh, good. Rogue has the car, and I had to run here from the hospital.”

“The hospital?” Erza’s eyes widened in disbelief, “You’re an idiot, you should have taken a taxi or something.”

“No, there’s a ton of traffic, they’re starting to close off the streets for tonight’s events.”

“I see,” She went into her office returning with a folding chair and a cup of water. ”Sit.”

“Now, what nauseatingly romantic thing are you wanting this time?” she teased.

“Well, Rogue’s playing his first gig tonight since forever,” Sting’s eyes blazed with pride, “So here’s what I was thinking.”

And as he began telling her what he wanted, she wasn’t disappointed. They chatted as she worked on Rogue’s flowers, and when the phone rang, Sherry answered it.

“Alright, I’ll give her your order, thanks!” Sherry spoke into the phone, “What’s that? Oh, yeah, got it! Don’t forget Hana’s flower crown, okay. No, he already paid for that as well as Gray’s arrangement. Thanks, Mira!”

“What do you think?” Erza showed Sting her finished arrangement, and his wide grin made her smile wistfully. She handed the flowers over and reminded Sherry to give him the frequent customer/family discount.

“Are you going to meet with us later?” Sting peered at her from behind the enormous bouquet, which Erza already knew Rogue was going to have a hard time moving around with. Hopefully, they’d thought to bring the stroller.

“I’m not sure yet, I have to go to Fairy Tail to drop off Natsu’s stuff, I’ll decide then.”

“Does that mean you’ll decide when you know whether Mira is going?” Sting regarded her with a knowing grin. “Seriously, Erza, are you ever going to do something? Your brother has discovered a whole new sexuality in the time it’s taken you to make a move.”

“Go away, Sting,” Erza muttered in annoyance but mostly because she knew he was right.

“Well, I hope you come,” Sting entreated, “it will be fun to have everyone together.” He struggled to balance the flowers in one arm as he paid for them and then left, nearly missing the door and walking into the wall because of the obstructed view.

Erza shook her head as she watched him leave, reminded of how similar he sometimes was to her brother. Filled with enthusiasm and energy, a bit silly, but with a good heart. They were also amazingly devoted partners, which was reflected in their grand romantic gestures.

How she’d wanted to do something special for Mira, she thought sadly. Maybe there was still time! But before she could give it any real thought, Sherry had given her the order she’d taken over the phone. It was for Mirajane Strauss.

Erza read the names of the flowers listed on the order again: red tulips, red roses, gardenias, and amaryllis. She scrunched up her face in distaste at the combination.

“You’re sure these are the flowers she wanted?” she challenged.

“Yep, she was especially adamant about the red tulips,” Sherry informed her.

Red tulips, red roses, gardenias, and amaryllis. Four species of flowers that looked so vastly different from each other that Erza wasn’t even sure she could combine them into an arrangement that would actually be aesthetically pleasing. But it was for Mira, so she was going to give it her absolute best.

It was for Mira.

Wait a second… Erza listed the order in her head once again with growing anxiety. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Mira had requested these flowers after she’d been looking in that book Erza had shown her during lunch break. They all referred to deep love, affection, and attraction. It was a love confession hastily pieced together in flower meanings.

Shit! Erza’s heart pounded in her chest, the fear that she might have waited too long making her feel light-headed. Who were these flowers for? Erza wracked her brain to think of anyone Mira might have mentioned recently. Mira worked at Fairy Tail, she got hit on constantly, but she usually just laughed it off.

They’d both dated people casually over the years, but it never lasted long, and they always returned to their comfortable camaraderie, laughing at how there was no one out there for them. Although in Erza’s case, what she really meant was there’s no one out there for me but you.

She reviewed the meanings in her head.

Red tulips - a declaration of love, perfect love

Red roses - the most classic of all expressions of love, a child could tell you what it meant.

Gardenias- a symbol of purity and sweetness

Amaryllis - splendid beauty

Every one of these flowers was like a stab to her heart.

“Did uhm, did she say she was picking these up herself?”

“No, she asked that you bring it to Fairy Tail along with Natsu’s stuff,” Sherry answered moving towards the back of the shop, where they kept overstock and orders they didn’t want to be mixed in with sale items, “I’m going to get his things from the back now.”

“Ah, okay, thank you,” Erza muttered, gripping the edges of the table tightly.

“Are you okay?” Sherry hovered over her in concern.

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” Erza smiled weakly.

“Do you want me to take over?”

“No!” Erza replied quickly, “It’s for Mira, I should be the one to do it.”

Sherry didn’t look convinced by her assurances, but she went into Erza’s office, returning with a glass of water and the box containing the cakes Mira had left for her. “Here, eat something, you never even finished your lunch. I’ll go pick the flowers, and you can arrange them, alright?”

Erza nodded gratefully, sitting down on the chair she had brought out for Sting. She opened the container, eating her cake but for once, finding no joy in it. She still managed to eat both pieces by the time Sherry came back, arms laden with the requested flowers.

“I’m going to lock the door. Otherwise, we’ll never be able to leave,” Sherry called over her shoulder.

Erza didn’t answer, already busy with the flowers on her work table. Well, there was nothing she could do; if Mira had given her heart to another, then she would just have to accept it. Mira deserved all the happiness in the world. They would still be friends and aunts to Natsu’s children.

She would make Mira the most beautiful bouquet that could possibly be made with these flowers, and she would even add her own well wishes to it.

“Sherry? Can you get me some red peonies, please?”

“Just a minute, I’m getting Natsu’s order.”

Erza arranged and rearranged, not satisfied with her efforts. She jumped when Sherry arrived with the flowers she’s asked for.

“More red?” Sherry wrinkled her nose in distaste, “Are you sure that’s what you want? That bouquet does not exactly scream love.”

“Actually, that’s exactly what it’s screaming,” Erza disagreed, showing her the piece of paper that she’d scribbled the order on. “The red peonies are to wish her luck.”

“Oh! Oh,” Sherry frowned, realizing what Erza was saying. She was about to say something else when there was a tapping on the door. A quick peek showed Ren and Chelia waiting for her outside.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Sherry asked in a soft voice, “I can ask them to come back later.”

“Nonsense, go have fun with your family, I’ll see you on Monday!”

Sherry didn’t look convinced, but she gave Erza a hug, letting herself out and locking the door from the outside.

With no one left to act tough for, Erza let her tears flow as she continued to work, arranging and rearranging once again until she was satisfied.

0-0

Mira stood next to Natsu, both trying to stay on top of all the customers that had flooded the bar. She was growing increasingly nervous the closer it got to the end of her shift, knowing Erza would show up any minute. She’d bungled up more orders than she could count, having to resort to shameless flirting to keep from getting in trouble. Noticing her state, Natsu took pity on her, asking her to prep fruit for him while he handled the drink orders.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he assured her with one of his smiles, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before moving on to a customer that was calling for his attention.

For most people, being handed a knife while they were in turmoil was a terrible idea, but for Mira, who had a knife in hand as often as not, it was fine. The repetitive action of cutting the lemons, limes, and oranges needed for drink garnishes was relaxing.

When she’d arrived back at work from her interrupted lunch with Erza, she had been excited about her idea. She’d written down the names of a bunch of flowers and their meanings, trying to construct a love confession in a language Erza would be sure to understand.

A few hours later, she had been wavering, scared that maybe she’d been reading the signals wrong all these years. If she went through with her plan, she would only be exposing herself to heartbreak and ruining the beautiful friendship she and Erza had worked so hard to sustain over the years.

There had always been so many reasons for Mira not to start anything. At first, it had been because they hadn’t exactly hit it off in the beginning. Then, when that had changed, it was because she was trying to sort out the mess Elfman had gotten himself into, especially after it had caused Lisanna to run away in fear. To Edolas, where she was followed by Natsu, and about two years later, they got married.

It had felt awkward to ask Erza out once they were linked by family, so Mira had dated others instead, trying to distance herself from the love and attraction she felt for Erza. None of them had worked out. Her heart just hadn’t been in them, and when the years hadn’t worn down her feelings one bit, she’d begun to think maybe it was time to take a chance.

But then Lisanna had died, and Mira had been grieving and trying to be there for Natsu, who was clearly falling apart. It was a new excuse but one that felt valid. After all, if she acted now and things didn’t work out between them, it would affect Hana and Atlas, which wasn’t fair to them. The last thing they needed was for their aunts, who each fulfilled a part of a female role model they missed so deeply, to be the cause of uncomfortable tensions.

Sharing babysitting duties with Erza and helping raise the kids had been fun, bringing them even closer together, but also filling Mira’s head with visions of what it might be like if the kids they were taking care of were theirs instead.

But it had been watching Natsu find love again with Gray that had truly sparked her to want to make her own move. If Gray, who had just come out of what was arguably the worst relationship ever, was willing to take a chance on a Dragneel, then why not her? And if Natsu, whose whole life had been turned upside down when he lost his wife granted himself another shot at love, then why shouldn’t she?

It felt right. Maybe that was just Mira's inner hopeless romantic speaking, but it spoke loud and clear, and she was done ignoring it. Besides, they had both turned thirty that year. Not that Mira felt old or anything, but she sure as hell wasn’t getting any younger either. She’d been looking forward to starting a family of her own for so long now. All she needed was someone amazing to start it with.

And Erza was amazing. She was smart, beautiful, and kind, and she had this awkward vulnerability that was incredibly endearing. Which was not to say that Mira wasn’t aware of her faults, like her stubbornness, and her fiery temper.

Mira knew that Erza wasn’t perfect, she was just perfect for her.

It had been Natsu who had encouraged her to make the call, telling her she would never know if she didn’t try, and Fantasia was a perfect occasion. He’d looked over the flowers she had jotted down, making his own suggestions.

“Here, do these. There’s no way she could mistake it,” Natsu assured her.

“How can you be so sure?” Mira asked, eyebrow raised in question.

“Because they all clash horribly in a mess of red that no sane person would ever like,” Natsu’s eyes crinkled with merriment.

Mira stared at him in disbelief and then began to laugh, “Is that what you did with Gray?”

“No, we were just honest with each other, but you two suck at that so gaudy bouquet it is!”

Mira had swatted at him playfully, but she had to admit he was right, she and Erza never seemed to be able to tell each other how they felt about each other, always tiptoeing around anything that might upset the balance they had achieved.

So she had made the call, relieved to hear Sherry’s cheerful voice answer the phone and now there was nothing left to do except wait.

Mira had sliced enough fruit to keep the night shift bartenders going through their entire shift, and still, Erza hadn’t arrived. She could see Makarov and Porlyusica already waiting outside with Atlas, Hana, and Wendy. Had she been held up at the shop?

A few minutes later, there was an unmistakable flash of scarlet, and she could see Erza talking to her foster parents, arms full of packages, with both kids latching on to her excitedly.

“You ready to go?” Natsu asked, signaling the end of their shift.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” Mira sighed, the natural confidence she usually exuded escaping her for once.

Natsu snickered and grabbed her hand, pulling her behind him as he weaved his way out of the crowded bar and to their waiting family. They were the last to arrive, and Mira was pleased to see that Gray had joined them, even if he was wearing a cap and large sunglasses. Elfman had made it too. Natsu let go of her hand, heading to Erza and asking for his purchases.

Once Erza had finished helping Natsu, she turned towards Mira. “I brought your order too, even added a touch of red peonies for luck,” she chirped with a fake cheerfulness that confused Mira, as she accepted the bouquet she had ordered.

She examined the flowers in her hand and immediately saw what Natsu had meant. As much as Erza had obviously tried to make the flowers she had requested look as appealing as possible, it was a cacophony of contrasting reds, loud and garish. Those flowers had no business being together. And apparently, Erza had felt the need to add her own touch to the mix, yet another red flower.

What the heck? Red peonies for luck? What did she need luck for?

Erza refused to meet her eyes, and if it hadn’t been for that odd phrase, Mira would have expected some yellow carnations in her future. When she looked at her more closely, Mira saw that Erza’s eyes were puffy as if she’d been crying recently.

Did something happen?

“Luck?” Mira blinked owlishly, trying to understand what was going through Erza’s mind.

“Yes, for you. So that you get the answer you want from whoever you give those to,” Erza managed an awkward smile that tore at Mira’s heart as she finally put two and two together.

“Whoever I give them to?” A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. The hilarity of the situation too much for her to handle. Here she’d thought she’d been as brazen as could be, and all she’d accomplished was to make Erza think they were for someone else.

Erza didn’t seem to know how to react to Mira’s outburst. She peered at her before once again looking down.

“They’re for you, you dummy,” Mira wiped her eyes, trying to ignore the fact that everyone in their group was staring at them with either curious eyes or knowing smiles.

“F-for me?” Erza stammered, her face turning as bright red as her hair once she realized her mistake. A tentative smile crossed her lips.

“Yes, for you,” Mira repeated, handing the bouquet over to Erza with a grin, waiting for her to say something.

“Did your added luck work in my favor?” Mira teased when Erza remained silent, although truth be told, she was starting to feel nervous.

Tears shimmered in Erza’s eyes as she nodded happily, taking out one last item from the bag she had brought from the store and handing it to Mira. It was the most beautiful bouquet Mira had ever seen, and she didn’t have to know anything about flowers to understand that Erza had poured all of herself into it.

They stared at each other, frozen in place by all the years they had spent hoping for this moment, imagining it in hundreds of different ways. Both desperate to take the next step but also terrified of what it would mean.

“Just kiss already,” Hana’s voice startled both of them out of their reverie, followed by the well-meaning laughs of their family and closest friends. She might have been only eight years old, but she’d managed to say what they had all been thinking.

So Erza and Mira did, neither one sure of who took the first step towards the other, or who’s lips pressed against who’s first. All they knew was that as awkward as the moment was, it was also perfect.

They were soon surrounded by the loud congratulations and, in some cases, happy tears of their family. Even though they were out in public, the promise of what was to come enough to make them both smile radiantly.

For the rest of the evening, they enjoyed the festivities with the others, walking hand in hand through the streets of Magnolia. They fed each other snacks from the many food carts that had gathered around the city center, watched Phantom Lord's live performance, slow dancing to some of their songs, and topping off the evening with soft kisses underneath the fireworks.

It was a beautiful evening, filled with more than they could’ve hoped for, but they both couldn't help but look forward to the moment when they were finally alone and could express their feelings more privately.

@femslashfairies​

[franklyshipping]

The Littlest Brother ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

WOOOOO SNAZZY ANON PROMPT ALLUDING TO HOW THE GREEN GOOGLE, AKA MASON, IS IN FACT CANONICALLY THE YOUNGEST, LET'S SEE HOW HIS BROTHERS TREAT HIM! LET'S DO IT!

TAGGING: @googlee-green @goog-ler-iplier @google-switchy-red and @googlee-oliver

Sibling authority. I figure that's a pretty big perk if you have younger siblings, because you can always have that hint of an edge when getting your own way against them....and it gives you an excuse to reprimand them on some occasions too. For younger siblings, or the youngest sibling of a group, this can be the most unfair thing in life. You fancied an extra biscuit? Nope we're going to put the box on the highest shelf so you can't reach....but deep down, it's all loving. But, even though it was loving....one particular sibling was currently being as quiet as he possibly could as he retrieved some salty snacks from the kitchen at two o'clock in the morning. Why was he doing this? Because he was midway through a secret all night movie marathon, and it was imperative that he kept it a secret, otherwise he knew that his siblings would find a way to hinder him with knowledge and their superior strength. Google Green, aka Mason, was being careful.

....but....not careful enough. Sometimes as a younger sibling you never know the full extent to which your older siblings go to protect you; in this instance, Google Blue would always wake up if one of his brothers were online during a designated charging period; it was so he would be able to find them and see if there was anything wrong like a fault or a nightmare. In this care, Mason had been awake for a while, but Google Blue had only just noticed the notification since he'd been up late, engrossed in his own statistical work. Now that he'd noticed however....he made a bee-line for his brother's location, and soon....they were stood still, facing one another. It was rather comedic.

'Brother, may I inquire as to why you are not at your charging port replenishing energy, since it is where you ought to be at this time of night?'

Mason was frozen, clutching his snacks in a manner that was almost protective, as his mind whirred with the effort to come up with a good reply. No good ones came to mind, and thus Mason had to settle for this.

'I.....I charged...during the day so I c-could um....make time t-to watch some films....'

Now, it wasn't a lie, but when he said he charged during the day....he charged for an hour and a half. Blue could see into his diagnostics history, and upon seeing this it cemented the fact in his mind that Mason would NOT have enough energy, even for something as relaxing as watching films. With how Mason's hard drive was functioning somewhat drowsily, Blue concluded that it was time for him to assert his authority and put a stop to this.

'Film viewing in the middle of the night....that doesn't sound healthy for your ah....juvenile systems.'

Blue spoke with folded arms and a slight quirking of his lips, he never could help teasing his littlest brother. Yes, Mason was technically the youngest out of the brotherly unit....and it was a fact he'd NEVER been able to escape. Heat swarmed at Mason's cheeks when his brother called out his youth, and his speech became more fragmented as subtle flusteredness entered his mentality.

'B-But Bluey it's fine! I-I have plenty of charge a-and I can just get back to my normal routine t-tomorrow-'

'I think not. This is a very inadequate practise.'

Blue interrupted matter-of-factly, which made Mason purse his lips and let out a soft huff through his nose. He didn't have to take this! He was a unique intelligent being of great power and potential, he didn't have to let himself be lectured like this! Now, in Mason's mind his next words sounded most defiant and strong....but in all honestly they came out as a pouty whine.

'You can't tell me what to do!'

Blue raised an eyebrow, his azure eyes flashing with what seemed like a pulse of warning as he took a few steps towards his brother. Mason saw it as a flash of warning.

'Can't I?'

Blue's voice was cool as he posed his rhetorical question, thus making Mason go silent. If only Mason knew what Blue's flashing orbs had really meant....maybe he would have avoided his fate. If only he'd taken the time to recall how all of the Googles' eyes flashed whenever they communicated with one another via their cloud mind....maybe he could have saved himself.

'Are you disrespecting my authority over our unit?'

Mason gulped as he kept ahold of his snacks, his brother getting ever closer with a challenging loom on his face. Blue was daring Mason to be defiant....Mason knew that his brothers always tried to make up excuses to gang up on him in whatever scenario; he'd always tried to avoid it all, but it never worked. So, despite his nerves....he just thought fuck it. He was going to get him in some way anyway, so he threw being meek out of the window. Mason's own eyes flashed now, but with defiance.

'Your dumb big brother jurisdiction doesn't extend to this!'

....aaand Mason bolted, his mind set on getting to his room and locking the door as fast as he possibly could whilst his brother reeled from the unexpected insult. However, it wasn't as unexpected as Mason had theorised it would be, for when he turned around and made to sprint from the room....his way was blocked.

'Am I correct to infer that our little Mason just called you dumb?'

Red. It was Red's voice. Mason froze, mouth slightly agape, as he looked up his other two brothers. Red and Oliver were maintaining stoic expressions; he could see in them that they were both repressing urges to smile gleefully, despite their charging times being interrupted. Mason heard Blue let out a sigh behind him as he responded.

'He certainly did....I am.....just so offended by this....'

Mason ended up raising his eyebrows....Blue was....trying to act upset. Mason glanced behind him.....now, you may for a moment feel a pang of guilt when you first see someone upset whether it be fake or not.....but Mason failed to repress his snickers. A prominent emotion like that just looked so unnatural on Blue, and the strained expression he was pulling made it look like he was having difficulty with his personal waste disposal. Needless to say, Mason shouldn't have snickered; Oliver stated in a shocked manner.

'And now he's laughing at your sorrow! This needs to be sorted right away....'

'Agreed.'

Mason whirled around to face his other siblings, eyes wide and mouth opening ready to holler in defiance....but he was already on the ground; two versus one, he never stood a chance, especially with two of his limbs overcome by snacks. He had no chance to mount a defence. Soon though, the snacks were out of his hands and scattered about around him as Oliver and Red pinned him effectively, despite his grunts and wriggling struggles.

'L-Let go! This is s-so unfair let me GO!'

Mason glared up as his brothers, who merely smirked as they sat on his legs and gripped his arms effectively. He ended up flinching however when he heard tutting come from above him, Blue had knelt down next to his head and was looking down at him with mock disappointment....but even he couldn't hide the excitement in his voice.

'I think we need to re-acquaint you with who is in charge here....little brother....'

Mason struggled even more, eyes widening when Blue took his arms and pinned them above his head.....and soon he was giggling. He hadn't been touched, but the mere motions of Oli and Red wiggling their fingers at him tauntingly had his composure crumbling.

'N-Nohoho n-not that a-anything but tihickles p-p-please not the tickles!'

As you can imagine, this was something that Mason was commonly the victim of amongst his brothers. Not only because he was so ticklish, but also because of how his software worked. With his own software being conscious of itself and its existence, it was aware that it harbours the youngest of a group of siblings; with research into sibling behaviour and the common factor of younger siblings being more child-like, giddy and flusterable than other siblings, Mason's software altered his subconscious so he'd therefore have these characteristics. Characteristics of blushing, embarrassment, and overall cuteness, which Blue, Red, and Oliver never tired of seeing. Which is why at any opportunity, they would gang up on him, and do all this.

'Too late Masey....it's play-time....'

Oliver's sunny eyes shone as he cooed, before laughing evilly along with Red as each of them dug their wiggling fingers into one of Mason's sides each; they knew their brother well, they knew where to target....Mason had no chance.

'EEEEHEHEHE NOHOHOHAHA NOHOHO TIHICKLE NO TIHIHIHICKLE!!'

After an initial shriek he was cackling and thrashing from side to side, his green eyes glinting like emeralds as his mirth just seemed to shine out of him. As well as his apparent desperation. However, he didn't quite get the mercy he was hoping for.

'I think 'yes tickle' is the appropriate response here....especially since we know it works on your attitude ever so well....'

Blue was smirking deviously as his purred words left his lips while he looked directly into his brother's eyes which, to his delight, made him whimper amidst his laughter. Blue adored how Mason was so susceptible to the slightest subtlety. Mason had squeezed his eyes shut now, crying out as the torture continued.

'NOHOHOHOOO!!'

As he shook his head, he heard coos all around him. The most evil, flustering, babyish coos that just made something deep inside Mason just curl up into the embodiment of meekness.

'Yeeees, whoooo's a cheeky little baaaby?'

'You know I think it may be little Mason.'

'I think you're right!'

Oliver finally exclaimed....now, first off, Mason concluded that his brothers were spending too much time with the Jim siblings. Secondly, Mason concluded that this was just completely and utterly mean. His face was hot as he writhed about, now starting to squeal when he felt Red and Oli's fingers crawling up to his ribs.

'IHIHI NAHAHAT AHA BABY SHUHUHUDDUP!!'

Mason descended into cackling, and the occasional snort, as every inch of his ribcage was playfully poked and rubbed. Meanwhile, Blue's teasing face was above him, taking up his vision, an expression of smug superiority that Mason just couldn't escape.

'I think you'll find that you are in fact our troublesome little baby.'

Blue smirked as he, in his opinion, spoke the truth. From Blue's perspective, and Red's and Oli's, Mason wasn't a baby in the sense that he was unintelligent or excessively immature or difficult to handle....he just had this innocent, adorable purity that they adored hugely. Mason however, could only really see it as a tease since he was currently occupied with wailing and trying to get away from his siblings' fingers massaging his ribs.

'AHAHAHA IHI HOHOPE YOHOU STEHEP ON YOHOUR OHOWN CHAHAHARGING PLUG!!' 

.....I think that we all know that Mason certainly didn't think through his reply...until he saw Blue narrow his eyes down at him, before then giving sharp, mischievous nods to Red and Oli, who ceased their tickling. For now. Mason eagerly took the time to recover, knowing full well that a) this was only going to be a short break wherein Blue would engage in extreme intimidation, and b) he was going to get the attitude tickled out of him.

'Are you sure that's what you meant to say?'

Mason gulped at Blue's growl, but in his peripheral he could see his other brothers moving....Red was getting closer to Blue, and Oliver was sitting next to his legs. Mason's lips trembled in anticipation as he shook his head at Blue, hurriedly trying to think of some collection of words that would help him gauge mercy.....but nothing would have worked at this point. Not that he even got the chance to speak before Red and Oli began.

'AAAHHHSHITFUCKFUHUHUCK AHAHAHAHA SAHAHAHAHARRYYYYY!!'

Skittering. So much skittering. Red's blunt nails were like little insects scurrying about in the hollows of his underarms, whilst Oli's somehow felt like slowly crawling spiders under his knees. Damn it tickled, as was evident by his laughter and expletives....and his brothers decided to take notice of the latter.

'Gosh....I think we need to try that again with a bit less swearing!'

Oliver gasped, feeling most aghast; as was Red.

'Mason I am SURPRISED at you!'

This only made Mason giggle and laugh at an even higher pitch; he didn't swear a lot, but when he did and they reprimanded him for it he always got embarrassed butterflies. He was even more consumed by his mirth now in the wake of their scratchies and teasies.

'IHIHI SOHOHOHO SAHAHAHARRY SOHOSOSOSO SAHAHARRYYYY!!'

Since Blue was the only one he COULD see, Mason gazed up at him pleadingly as his brothers' blunt nails coaxed out laughter and whimpers and all of the above. And for a moment....Mason gasped in relief. Blue's lips had upturned into a gentle smile, and his eyes were softly glowing with what Mason thought was kindness....but then the expression dropped into a sneer.

'How cute....did you really think you'd get mercy straight away? It's like you don't even know us baby brother.'

Blue growled, internally crowing at how he'd managed to trick his little brother. Seeing his eyes widen with flustered shock never ceased to make his day. So, it all just continued. Now you may think....huh, scratching....I mean, there are worse tickle techniques, right? Well, yes and no, because it all depends on the person. For Mason here, this was the most evil tickly thing that they could possibly have decided to do. At his armpits AND at his knee pits! Soon enough, Mason was leaking saline fluid from his eyes, and desperation just consumed all his thoughts.

'PLEHEHEEEE-I-I-I-IHIHIH CAHAHAHAAA-A-H-A....'

The three tormenting siblings shared a look; they'd reached Mason's point, his true limit....and so they began the process of taking care of their little brother after what they'd put him through. The tickling stopped and his arms were released. Mason sniffled and softly coughed, wiping at his face as his form shuddered, but he was not alone. Each brother had their own task. Blue's fingers were rubbing the pressure points behind Mason's ears, helping him to relax, whilst Red and Oliver had their hands warming up by a few degrees. With Red placing his hands on his torso, and Oliver placing his behind Mason's knees, the warmth was soothing away all the evil tingles they'd left behind.

'Shhhh shhh, come now, we all know you've endured worse....'

Blue crooned softly, grinning when Mason let out a shaky whine and peeked up at him through his fingers.

'I-Ihihit was stihill baaad....'

He giggled, but was mostly humming by this point as he felt himself entering a state of pure calm relaxation, like the feeling of a hot bath after a work-out. Except here, he got teased and cooed at relentlessly; with or without the tickling, teasing would always remain. Oliver began with glinting eyes and a bright smile.

'Awwww, poor tender baby boy!'

'I expect you'll want to relax right about now, hm?'

Red's eyebrow was raised as he smirked subtly, and all Mason could do was nod meekly and smile at how his brothers teased him so....lovingly. For they did love him, so damn much. They unanimously decided to abandon their charging schedules and snuggle down for the most wonderful, warm, snack-filled movie watching fest that you ever did see. The warmth of their brotherhood kept them going, all through that cold night....there was never any room for the cold when they were together.

WOOOOP HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS ONE LEMME KNOW IF YA DO WOOOOP LUV YOOOOUS XX

[pcttrailsidereader]

The Best of the PCT Continues

The countdown continues with Rees’ Numbers 8 and 7.  See Howard’s in yesterday’s post.

By Rees Hughes

NUMBER 8.  THE MAGICAL EVENING AT DRAKESBAD, July 9, 2010

 There are certain magical days on the Pacific Crest Trail that stand tall; days that rise above that broad forest of glorious days.   These are the days that your memory immediately races to when you reflect on your life on the trail.  There was the day we guessed our way around snow-covered Mt. Adams ending on a ridge with a commanding view of Mt. Rainier and a solstice sunset; the day we swam our way down Falls Creek marveling at the granite walls above Grace Meadows only to while away an afternoon in the soft, lush grass basking in the warm sun near Wilmer Lake; or the day we walked south from Cook and Green Pass past Kangaroo Springs to Lower Devils Peak with its ringside seat to the conflagration raging across the Klamath River Valley.  Every hiker has their transcendent days.

Such days do not always represent a confluence of everything wonderful.  It is their enchanted quality, what English writer Nan Fairbrother calls “exquisite moments,” that sets them apart.  Besides, time seems to blur the difficult and brighten the best experiences of these stellar days.  Such was the case this particular day.

The day dawned with vestiges of the tumultuous evening resting on the peaks above Lower Twin Lake in Lassen Volcanic National Park.  We tried to shake off as much moisture as possible but there was no alternative but to pack the tents wet again.  Dr. Howard tended to Don and Eli’s ailing feet.  Wet boots and long days had chaffed their feet raw with blisters compounding their discomfort.  There were unspoken thoughts of an early exit from the trail as it is no fun when each step hurts.  Perhaps a short day will improve spirits.

Speed bumps of late season snow gave way to long stretches of snow sheltered by the dense tree canopy.  I always find these situations wearing if not exhausting.  Climbing up and down the steep edges of the snow banks; picking your path around downed trees; add in a couple of postholes.   We carefully crossed several creeks swollen by the melt water and preceding night’s rainfall.  About midday we reached the crest of a line of basalt cliffs that comprise Flatiron Ridge high above the Warner Valley and, more importantly, Drakesbad.

Drakesbad, initially established clear back in 1900 as a guest ranch, remains a rustic refuge accessible via a corrugated unpaved road seventeen miles in from Chester (which is pretty remote itself) or on foot.  There are only nineteen units at Drakesbad some of which still rely on kerosene lamps.  However, the price for a night rivals the cost of a month on the PCT.  Yet, during much of the summer, accommodations have been reserved for years.  It really is a Northern California Shangri-la.

As we made the long traverse down, we could see the steam rising from the hot spring pool set out in a broad meadow.  The siren song of happy voices pulled us forward.  Our own chatter focused on the possibility of reserving a space for dinner.

We set up our tents in the Park Service’s Warner Valley Campground, hung a line and did our best to give the high mountain sun a chance to dry out our saturated gear.  Howard and I were nominated to walk the half mile to Drakesbad to ask about a table for four in the well ventilated section.  We donned clean tee-shirts and tried to sponge away the most offensive trail musk.

As we stepped into the closed space of the dining room, even our deadened noses became aware of the aroma that accompanied us.  The colorful tablecloths festooned the light wood of the dining room.  The room was set for dinner.  Salad forks.  Second spoons.  Wine glasses.  The ambiance was simple but elegant.   The realization that we didn’t fit here made us yearn for the opportunity that much more.

A tall woman brusquely emerged from what appeared to be the kitchen.  She had the air of a person with a long list of urgent tasks and little time for hiker trash.  Our first efforts to turn on the charm bounced off her and fell impotently to the floor.

We continued, “Any chance, any chance at all, that there might be a way to handle four more this evening?”  We weren’t above inserting a hint of desperation in our request.

“The Ranch is full and we usually only have enough food for our paying guests,” she replied without a hint of sympathy.  There was a pause as she saw our crestfallen faces.  “I will check with the chef and see if there is likely to be extra food.”   Perhaps it was her Germanic accent that underscored the futility of our quest.   Perhaps it was that she didn’t seem to be heading off to ask anyone anything.

We turned to go, tails between our legs.  Don and Eli will be so disappointed.  We had hoped this would be an antidote for their blistered feet and bruised morale.

With one foot out the door, Howard asked if it might be possible to use the phone for a quick call home as our cell phones had not been working along this stretch of the PCT.

It was if Howard had uttered a magic incantation that had propelled us into a parallel universe.  We were Dorothy trying to get into Oz.  “Why didn’t you say you were on the Crest Trail,” Billie Fiebiger exclaimed.  “We always have enough food for PCT hikers.”  In fact, Billie gave us the key to the city.  “Use the showers (please) and the pool.  Make yourselves at home.  Come back at 7 p.m. although you may not be seated until later.”  Still shaking our heads at our good fortune and this rather mysterious turn of events, we hurried back to tell Don and Eli the news before the spell was broken.

As the four of us returned the dark clouds that had dogged us the past several days were building quickly.  But, the warm showers and the hydrothermal pool kept us occupied until the rumble of thunder became more aggressive. Within minutes the remaining blue patches of sky vanished.  Lightning forced us reluctantly to vacate the pool.  The hail drove us for cover under the eaves of the bathhouse.   The gusting winds pushed tentacles of rain toward even the most protected corners.

Valiant employees raced down the trail to the pool in an electric cart to rescue the castaways three per trip.  The meadow had been transformed into a Sargasso Sea and the pyrotechnics kept us all jumpy.  Eventually we were deposited in the Lodge where we were to wait until dinner.

The photo albums and memorabilia in the Lodge deepened our appreciation for just what a special place Drakesbad is.  For two generations the Sifford family had built and tended this Guest Ranch.  For over 60 years they reclaimed the facility after each harsh winter for its four months of annual operation.  It had to be a labor of love.  The facility was incorporated into the National Park in 1958.  For the past 19 years, Ed and Billie Fiebiger have served as the hosts, caretakers, and stewards of Drakesbad.

Ed, in his chef’s apron, called us for dinner.  We crossed to the dining hall and were promptly seated.  There were several choices of entrees.  Or, Ed suggested, “Try them all!”  Heaping plates were brought to each of us.  The folks at the adjacent table took a special interest in our story.  One of their group had come annually for nearly fifty years.  Another from their table was sent back to their cabin and instructed to return with some of their wine stash to be shared with us.  “White or red?”  “No”, she instructed her husband, “bring one of each.”  We were peppered with questions and asked quite a few of our own.  We soaked up the attention that comes with being minor celebrities.

Ed pulled up a chair.  He had a bigger than life quality and exuded a warmth that permeated the hospitality of this magical place.

My cynical side wanted to peer around to make sure that we were not being fattened up by some wicked witch.  But, Drakesbad is a place that replenishes your faith in the generosity of the human spirit.  Distrust, doubt, and skepticism have no place here.

And, there was desert too.  In fact, there were three kinds.  “Try them all!”

It was tempting to linger much longer than we did.  I confess that it was all I could to restrain myself from asking if they served breakfast too.

Eventually we said reluctant goodbyes and enthusiastic thank yous.  The rain had stopped by the time we walked back toward our campsite.  If we weren’t walking down the road with our arms around each other, singing and talking loudly, then it felt like there was that sense of conviviality. 

The storm had spread our clothes across our campsite and sent cascades of water around our tents.   But there was nothing capable of dampening our spirits on this magical day.

NUMBER 7.  Harvesting pine nuts south of Walker Pass, May 10, 2011

I wanted to include a representative small moment that happens along the trail.  These are times when you slow down, stop, and absorb the nature that surrounds you.  These are the countless quiet, gentle experiences that occur, if you let them. I like to consider these my Mary Oliver moments.

When I section-hiked the PCT from Tehachapi to Walker Pass several Mays ago, as we neared the northern end of that trip we took a lunch break one day under a grove of piñon pines.  As we reached into our pack for our usual lunch of cheese, rye crackers, and salami, we began to notice that the forest floor was littered with pine nuts.  While some had become food for rodents, squirrels, and other foraging animals since dropping to the ground the prior autumn, most were so very edible.  Soon we were each on our hands and knees collecting cones and harvesting their delectable contents. I ate my fill and packed an empty bag with more nuts that I brought home with me when I left the trail.  It helped me understand the important role that pine nuts could play in the diet of Native Peoples. One pound of these nuts can contain up to 3,000 calories.

Another one of these small moments took place on the sandy bank of the McCloud River in Northern California on a section of the trail that most thru-hikers treat as an unfortunate 83 miles necessary to get from spectacular Burney Falls to Castle Crags and the beginning of the more dramatic Trinity Alps.  I was hiking with my friend, Bruce Johnston.  We had made excellent time from Deer Creek and decided to stop in the early afternoon and enjoy easy access to the McCloud River from the Ah-Di-Na Campground, located on the site of a former Wintu village and eventually a lavish resort owned by newspaper mogul William Randolph Hearst (the family still owns an estate, Wyntoon, ten miles upstream).  By the late 1950s the Hearst family had razed the resort buildings and in 1965 the Forest Service had acquired the property.  The one constant throughout was the beautiful McCloud River.  Bruce and I set up camp and retreated to the edge of the river where we could lie flat on a sandy bar. There was just enough wind to avoid the mosquitoes that had been feasting on us in camp.  For the next two hours we watched the evolution of the evening sky, the dance of the bugs, birds, and trout, the breeze in the trees.  All of this accompanied by the soundtrack of the McCloud River.  In a trail culture where it is all about perpetually moving forward, there is much to be said for slowing down. “We are Nature,” Walt Whitman says, “long have we been absent, but now we return.”  Being more mindful has been an important life lesson for me.

[rossotronic]

Gummi Venture

Part 5: The King’s Contest

Venture had been gone long enough from the glen that summer had disappeared from the woods and autumn was already bearing her final colors. The air was no longer warm and dry, instead it had become brisk and biting. With only the slightest provocation it pulled dried leaves from the gently swaying trees. Zummi wrapped his cloak more tightly around his neck and shoulders as he looked up to the early evening sky. The sunlight was fading now, but it left a canvas of bright pinks, oranges and emerging violets in its wake.

“Beautiful.” He said quietly to himself.

He stayed where he was, with his short legs dangling in the crisp air, sitting on a limb of the gummi tree overlooking the forest canopy below. This was a spot he often came, where he could relax and get lost in the natural beauty of the forest. Despite the falling leaves from the trees surrounding the glen, the gummi tree, steeped in magics as it was would be the last to drop its own, and the first come springtime to replenish them.

The old bear sighed and adjusted his spectacles on the top of his snout. His green friend had said he planned to be back before the first snow of winter, but it seemed less and less likely that it would be the case. Zummi watched as the color slowly drained from the sky, and when the air became too chilly, he gathered himself up and strode the length of the large branch to a small round door hidden away in the trunk. As he reached for the knob, it opened suddenly outward, catching him by surprise.

“Oh! Zummi, here you are!” Said Sunni as she blinked up at him with wide, youthful eyes.

“Sunni!” Exclaimed the magician. “You just about lared the scife out of me, er, well scared the life!”

She giggled and pushed a long tuft of yellow fur out of her face. “I didn’t mean to! You were up here so long I started to get worried, that and Gruffi wants to see you.”

“Gruffi? Oh, that’s fine. Is he in his room, or the den?” Zummi asked.

“Um, the den.” Sunni said and nodded.

“Thank you for letting me know.” Said the purple gummi as he moved with Sunni into the tree’s upper passageway before shutting the door behind them.

“Was it a nice sunset tonight?” Asked Sunni while they walked.

“Oh yes, quite lovely.”

“You’ve been up there a lot lately haven’t you?”

“It’s a good place to sit and have a think.” Zummi explained.

“About what?”

Zummi chuckled at the girl’s inquisitive nature. “Oh I don’t know, this and that. I’ve been hoping the Great Book of Gummi might reveal a new spell to us, but it’s been still for a long time now.”

“When did the last spell show up?”

Zummi scratched his chin in thought. “Perhaps half a year or more? I’ve nearly memorized all the magics the book contains by this point, still trying to find something that could help Venture’s friends, but nothing seems quite right.”

Sunni nodded her understanding. “They’ll be okay, I know they will. If they can be turned to stone, they can be turned back.” She offered with a smile.

“I think so too.” Zummi smiled back, patting the younger bear on her shoulder.

They continued down the winding passageway which ran in a tight descending spiral throughout the massive tree trunk until they reached the underground, where carved-out wood walls and floor gave way to earth and stone. Within another minute or so they would reach the den, the gathering hub for the Gummi Glen family.

“Do you know what Gruffi needs from me?” Zummi asked presently.

“Hm? Oh, uh, I can’t remember.” Sunni said, with a sort of mischievous smirk on her face.

“What’s with the look?” Asked Zummi.

“Maybe Gruffi didn’t really ask me to come find you. Maybe I just needed an excuse to get you down here.”

Zummi gave her a bemused expression.

 Just ahead they could hear excited voices. It sounded as though most of the others were already there, perhaps playing board games or enjoying hot cocoa around the hearth?

As the two bears rounded the last bend of the hallway and entered the spacious den, Zummi felt his heart beat a little faster. It looked as though all of the others were here alright, chatting excitedly, laughing and clustered around a certain gummi bear.

“Venture! You’re back!” Zummi all but shouted as he made his way into the crowd.

“Zummi! Good to see you! I’m pretty sure I said I’d be back before it snows, didn’t I? So here I am!” Said Venture as he gently pushed past Tummi and Cubbi to embrace his friend.

“Well, yes, but, it’s very nearly that time of year already.” Said Zummi as he patted the green gummi on the back while they hugged.

“Come on now, I still made it. Hope you weren’t too worried about me.” Said Venture with a teasing grin.

Zummi hesitated a moment as they pulled apart. “Not, too worried.” He said.

“He’s been working on helping your friends the whole time you’ve been away!” Sunni chimed in as she also greeted Venture with a warm hug.

“I believe it.” Said Venture, smiling with appreciation at the magician.

“What else could I do?” Said Zummi.

Grammi cleared her throat and spoke above the others. “Plenty of time to catch up everyone, but let’s allow the poor dear time to get little settled first, and maybe some food in his belly!”

“Oh gee, anything to eat at all would be amazing.” Said Venture. “Thank you, Grammi.”

She ushered him over to the long banquet table that sat in the middle of the room, expertly carved from old logs. He took a seat near the middle and the other gummis bunched up around him.

“Where did you go this time?” Asked Cubbi as he hopped onto the left side of the bench where Venture sat.

“Was it scary?” Tummi wondered.

“Did you, find any leads? Not that I care one way or the other.” Gruffi grumbled as he tightly folded his arms over his chest.

“How long will you be back for?” Asked Zummi as he seated himself on the long bench to Venture’s right.

The green gummi laughed and unfastened his cloak which he carefully stowed in the bag of holding at his belt.

“Okay, okay, one at a time! Cubbi, I went to the south, a land of swamps and wetlands, it was murder on the fur. I had heard some local legends about a peculiar witch who lived out in the bogs who knew about petrification magic so I did my best to find her. To answer your question Tummi, yes, sometimes it was pretty frightening! There were serpents in the swamps that grew to some thirty feet in length and would have loved to have made a meal of me! Honestly, from time to time I miss having an ogre’s size. I found the witch’s hut, but it was falling to pieces and I suppose she was long dead or moved away. I searched the rest of the area, spoke to the nonhumans that I could find, and eavesdropped on the humans I came across. None of that seemed to pan out. And by then it was time to return to the glen. On the journey back however, to answer your question Gruffi, I heard a rumor about a nobleman, a collector of artifacts specifically who lives nearby, in the kingdom of Dunwyn.”

“Why is this nobleman important?” Asked Cubbi.

“Well, what I overheard was he has a particular interest in relics from the Sandibas region and has amassed quite the collection. Perhaps, he holds a clue from my time that could help. I know it’s a long shot, but it’s something to go on at least.”

He turned his head to look at Zummi. “As for how long I’ll be staying, I’d really like to follow up on this antiques collector before winter hits us. But after that, I suspect I’ll want to stick around for awhile, until it gets warm again. After all, bears hibernate in the winter right?”

“Not gummi bears!” Said Cubbi, quite oblivious to Venture’s joke.

“So a few months then.” Said Zummi. He appeared relieved, though perhaps a little disappointed too.

Grammi brought out a hearty seeded bread with butter, a steaming squash and vegetable soup, and a raspberry custard tart for dessert and set them down in front of Venture. The bearded bear looked almost like he might burst into tears.

“This looks too good! I haven’t eaten this well since, well since I was back here! Thank you so much!” He said sincerely.

She gave him a satisfied smirk. “Well I’d hate to think you were getting food half as good as this out in some swamp!” She said.

Venture finished his meal and the group continued to speak long into the night until the younger bears began to yawn at the late hour.

The green gummi couldn’t help but stifle a yawn himself.

“After the trek you’ve had today, I think it’s about time we got you settled back into your old room.” Suggested Zummi.

“I wanted to hear more about the serpents and poisonous toads!” Said Cubbi.

“I’ll still be here in the morning ya know!” Said Venture as he rose to his feet.

“Fiiine.” Said Cubbi, and then he brightened. “You wanna help me and Sunni with our morning chores? They won’t take long, and you can tell us more stories!”

“Looking forward to it.” Venture said.

“Good to have you back.” Said Gusto, as he got up from the table and bade everyone a good night.

“Yes, you know you always have a place here, sweetie.” Added Grammi.

“Thanks everyone.” Said Venture, who blushed under the green fur of his cheeks. “It’s nice to be back.”

“May I walk with you?” Asked Zummi after the others had cleared out of the den.

“Of course.”

The two headed into the long corridor just outside of the den that led further down to the sleeping chambers.

“We missed you around here.” Said the purple bear.

“It sure seems that way. It’s… a little overwhelming being fussed over on my return like this.”

“They’re just showing their fondness for you.” Said Zummi.

“Oh, I know, I didn’t mean that… I meant,” Venture paused. “I’m overwhelmed to, have people to come home to again.”

Zummi patted Venture’s back as they walked, and thought he saw a glint of moisture at the corner of his friend’s eye, before it was quickly wiped away.

 They reached Venture’s room, the door next to Zummi’s and went inside. Venture reached up to the apple-sized light sphere affixed to the wall and touched it softly with his paw. The orb slowly came to life, bathing the room in a warm glow. Each of the rooms had such spheres, a simple magic enchantment Zummi had used to light the great structure many years ago. Each light would remain lit, by using a tiny amount of ambient magical energy until touched again. They were incredibly handy, and much more practical than torches or lanterns.

“Wow, this place looks just the same.” Said Venture as he glanced around. “Actually I take it back, it looks cleaner than I remember.”

“Well, I didn’t want the place collecting dust in your absence.”

“You’ve been keeping my room clean for me?”

Zummi shrugged. “Just once a week, I’ll pop in and tidy. Not a dig beal.”

“There it is.” Grinned Venture.

“Big deal!” Zummi corrected himself.

“Well I appreciate it, you’re always so thoughtful.” Said Venture.

Zummi blushed at the compliment. “It was really nothing. But listen, I’d love to write down some more of your experiences, like before, if you have the time.”

“What, like right now?”

“N-no of course not! Whenever you want, if you have some time before you leave for Dunwyn.”

“Well, what about tomorrow night then?” Venture offered.

“That’s wonderful, let’s plan for tomorrow around sundown? Just pop over and I’ll be all set!” Said Zummi happily.

“Sounds like a plan.” Venture agreed. “Then I’ll say good night for now, and see you tomorrow.”

“Oh, good night Venture, and,” Zummi scratched at the scruff of his neck. “It is good to have you back. We’re, all very fond of you.”

“And you know I feel the same about you guys.”

“Sleep well.” Said Zummi before leaving the room and softly shutting the door on his way out.

Venture moved over to the small bed and practically collapsed onto the mattress. The frame creaked slightly under his weight. The gummi had expected he might stay up for a time, unpacking some items from his bag, getting situated again, but after being on the road the last few weeks, he was so exhausted that he fell asleep almost immediately.

***

The following day was the most relaxed that Venture could remember having in quite some time. He helped Sunni and Cubbi collect firewood in the morning as promised, and afterwards they lay in the long grass of the grove and deciphered shapes in the clouds. He enjoyed a nice lunch in the afternoon with Grammi, Tummi and Gusto, and even found an hour to catch up with Sir Thornberry who had apparently moved himself into the armory on the lowest level of the glen. He learned that Gritty had returned to his native gummi homeland of Ursalia, but Thornberry was becoming quite fond of the glen and would be staying indefinitely. The green gummi expected he would feel restless after the months away, but instead he felt like he was back where he belonged. The feeling made him a bit uneasy.

The gummi bears all gathered in the den for supper which Grammi and Tummi had prepared for everyone. Venture followed up with Zummi about meeting later as discussed while Cubbi wrinkled up his nose and did his best to hide the mushrooms on his plate from Grammi under a dinner roll.

Again the meal was delightful, and afterwards Venture took some time to unpack a few belongings from the bag of holding into his room. He lined the shelves with a couple of books he had begun reading on his travels alongside the maps he had been using. When he was finished he touched the light sphere on the wall and went into the hallway. A few moments later he was knocking at the door next to his own.

***

Zummi carefully poured two cups of gummiberry tea and set them onto a clattery copper tray. The tea was good for the mind and body, refreshing, though not nearly as potent as its counterpart: gummiberry juice. He smelled the wonderful, warm aroma rising from the teacups as he lifted the tray with both paws and took it over to the nearby table where Venture sat.

“Mmm.” Said the green bear, sniffing the tea as he lifted the cup closest to him. “You make the best tea in all the realm, I swear.” He said.

“You have visited much of the realm, haven’t you? Perhaps I shall just take the compliment then.” Zummi said with a smile. He lifted his own teacup and carefully set it aside.

He was very happy to spend a quiet evening speaking with his friend. It had only been four and a half months since he had first met Venture, on that fateful, if tumultuous day. Since that time, the green bear had only stayed in Gummi Glen for three short weeks. Then he was gone, continuing the journey to find aid for his friends. Just like in those weeks before, the two arranged a night to relax and converse, which Zummi found to be a doubly good opportunity to get more of his friend’s incredible history down on paper. From the wooden table next to him, he gathered up a canvas-bound notebook and retrieved an ink quill with its jar.

“Are you wanting to write anything in particular tonight?” Venture asked, craning from his side of the table to see the book.

“In fact, I’d like to get another one of your stories written down, if you’d care to spare the time.” Zummi said, looking over his glasses at the bear sitting across from him.

“Oh, I’ll always make time for you, not that I had any other plans tonight anyway.” The bearded gummi said. “So, something specific? A bit more about what you call ‘the Great Gummi’ culture from centuries ago? Something from my wandering years as an ogre?”

Zummi blew some steam from the top of his cup and then took a tentative sip of the hot beverage. “Your choice. Anything you would like to have written down for pummi gosterity, uh, gummi posterity?”

Venture took a sip from his own cup while he thought about the magician’s request. “Oh, that is good, not too strong, just perfect.”

“Thank you kindly.” Said Zummi.

“Hmm, I know I’ve told you about the night we vanquished the sorceress, but have I told you yet about how the team was formed?” Asked Venture, raising a fuzzy eyebrow.

“You have not.” Said Zummi, offering a curious look. “But please do, I’m all ears.” He readied his quill at the top of a fresh page.

“Let me think.” Venture said as he began his tale. “I was still a cub at the time, around fourteen or fifteen, living with my grandfather in his general store. He was getting up there in age, as he often reminded me, so he had gifted me our family heirloom, the bag of holding for my birthday. That’s right, for my fifteenth birthday, that checks out. Anyway, Gummiton was bustling on that particular morning, more so than usual. And you have to remember, we had opened our town and lands to the displaced humans from the kingdom of Serenade, so Gummiton in those years after the sorceress had forced them out was especially crowded. Sorry, I should try to stick to the main story.”

“It’s fine, my shorthand is up to the task.” Zummi assured his companion.

“Great, well, where was I? Oh yes, everyone in town was acting like they had a special secret to share.”

***

Maddi came by Grandpa’s store in the morning, like she did almost every day. She had this huge grin on her face, stretching from ear to ear. She was seven years older than me and a lot more interesting, adventurous, and brazen too. Maddi was amazing, I wanted to be just like her when I grew up. She was just like my big sister, even called me her little brother sometimes. I had known her my whole life, our parents used to be friends.

“Hey Venture, how’s business?” The burgundy-colored bear asked as she leaned against the front counter of the shop.

“Fine, we sold a bunch of knitted scarves to the humans. The nights just started getting colder recently so Grandpa figured it was a good idea to have them in stock.” I told her.

“Sad to see Summer coming to an end. That’s smart though, I mean, they don’t have any fur, they gotta be cold all the time, right? Must be annoying.” She said.

“I guess.” I said.

“Anyway, whatever, I’m not really here for that.”

“I figured. So what’s up?” I asked her as I tidied up one of the display shelves of buttons, needles and colored thread spools.

“You haven’t heard the news?”

“No. what news?” I asked.

“Whole town’s talking about it.” She said.

“About what?”

“Wow, you are seriously clueless.”

“Maddi, come on! Just tell me already!” I snapped.

She smirked. “Geez, calm down, if you want to know that bad I’ll tell you.”

I rolled my eyes.

“So yeah, the human king sent out a request, he’s looking for people.” She told me.

“What for?”

“They’re calling it ‘The King’s Contest.’”

“Well that doesn’t explain too much.” I said and grimaced. “What kind of contest?”

“He wants to find people with skills, who can fight. He’s hosting a tournament in three days.” Maddi said.

“Whoa, that sounds exciting!” I exclaimed. “How do you know all this?”

She pulled a carefully folded sheet of paper from the yellow sash around her waist and handed it to me. “This is how.”

I unfolded it and saw it was a flier, presumably one of many that had been posted around Gummiton and the more recent human settlement of New Serenade earlier that morning. Quickly I scanned over the information before giving it back.

“That’s really gonna be something to see.” I said and whistled.

“I’m going to enter.” Maddi told me proudly, tossing her long, single braid of hair back over her shoulder.

“Is it even open to gummi bears?”

She scrunched up her face. “Why wouldn’t it be? It doesn’t say ‘humans only’ or anything on it, does it?”

“No.”

“So then, of course I’m going to enter, and I plan to be one of the winners too!”

“It’s just, humans are so big and powerful, what if you get hurt?” I said.

Her expression softened. “Don’t worry about me, little brother. I’m quick, they won’t even lay a finger on me. Besides, that old king wants the best, and it’s going to be me for sure.”

“Will I be able to see you participate?” I asked.

“Obviously. I can only do my best if you’re there cheering me on.” She said and fluffed up my hair with her paw.

***

Gummiton was beyond excited over the next few days leading up to the tournament. It was surprising to pass anyone on the street who wasn’t talking about it, though to be fair there usually wasn’t much else going on, at least not on such a grand scale. By that time, the top rumors were that the king wanted to host the event for morale, find a team to be his new royal guard, or make a strike force to defeat the sorceress. They all seemed equally preposterous and plausible. Unfortunately for me however, I was scheduled to mind the store on the day of the contest while my grandfather traveled just out of town into the forest to gather berries and herbs to dry and sell.

I suppose I should say a couple of things about Grandpa at this point: The gummi was strict, not overly harsh necessarily, but he had his rules and expected them to be followed. The other thing was, he liked to stay up late with his pipe and a book in the evening and sleep late in the mornings, which almost always meant I had to open the shop. So on the day of the tournament, I wrote him a note, apologizing that I had something urgent to do that I deemed more important than opening the store. I left it on his nightstand next to the snoring bear, said a quiet ‘goodbye’ and then headed out for the day.

The contest grounds were set up just outside of Gummiton, in a large clearing at the edge of the Honeypaw woods, where there was enough space for all the festivities. Some of the town carpenters had constructed wooden stands for spectators, and roped off rings for individual battles. There were even benches and seating areas in some of the trees, obviously being more for the gummi bears who could easily get to them. The area was completely transformed from the meadow it had previously been. Somehow, in just three days there had been time for many local businesses to set up stands with food and drink as well as a few game booths like I had seen and played before at a human’s carnival when I was very young. I felt my stomach rumble as I looked over some small cakes and sweet buns at a baker’s stall. The smell of cooked sugar and spices was nearly overwhelming to my sensitive nose, but in a wonderful way. I had told Grandpa we should do something similar, but he wasn’t much for the idea. Maybe he just didn’t understand how many people would be in attendance.

I continued through the rows of booths until I reached the largest fight ring designated for the main events. It was the most impressive due to its sheer size as well as knowing it was where the final matches would take place. It was wider and had tall, waving banners surrounding it flying the colors of New Serenade and Gummiton respectively. For now there was no one competing here, although a few people were already making themselves comfortable to have good viewing later in the day. Behind and above the ring in sturdier-looking stands were the nicer seats for the human’s king Josef, his family, and the gummi elders. There were also padded seats for advisors, probably some other people too, but basically, the most important folks from both settlements.  

I found Maddi about an hour after I arrived, she was just finishing a match, which she won. She was beaming, waving at folks, talking to some others. When she saw me though she ran right over.

“Hey! There you are! You missed my first fight!”

“I’m sorry, I wanted to leave sooner, but I almost didn’t… I think Grandpa’s gonna be really upset when he finds out.” I told her, still feeling guilty.

“Hey, this tournament’s a big deal, he’ll understand. They say it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission, you know.” She said, tying her yellow bandana more tightly at the back of her head.

I frowned. “That seems subjective.”

“Whatever, anyway, I got my first win!” She said, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me. She laughed like a crazy person. I couldn’t help laughing with her.

“Congratulations! Was it a close match?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “Nah. I was too quick, besides, with these rules it was a piece of cake!”

“Oh? What do you mean?” I asked.

“I told you already, Venture. We’re not trying to kill each other or anything. You just need to knock your opponent down three times, or get them out of the ring. You can use weapons, but absolutely no lethal attacks.” She reminded me.

“I know all that! I meant, how did you win?” I asked.

“Just outmaneuvered him, tripped him up a few times. No sweat.” She flexed her arm for me and grinned.

“There actually is some sweat on your forehead, Maddi.” I said and pointed.

“Haha, you bratty little cub!” She shouted and grabbed me in a headlock. We both laughed again.

I stuck by my sister for the rest of the day and was able to watch her next match from the sidelines, which she also won, with relative ease. She was even faster than I remembered. She had spent years training for the Gummi Guard, so it made sense that she would be in peak physical condition. Of course, there were plenty of gummis also trained to join the guard, and several of them were in attendance, but I doubted they had Maddi’s grit and determination. I had heard her mother, Clover, remark that if Maddi had been born a human she’d have her own queendom by now. When Maddi was in a battle, the way she read her opponent’s moves, reacted so quickly and effortlessly, seemed to be pure instinct on her part. You could see her opponents calculating strategies in their heads, but Maddi had already tripped them up or disarmed them before they could act. Her third match of the day was in the finals, which meant, if she won, she would be one of those deemed worthy by King Josef. As the number of participants dictated, only three would be counted as champions.

While she was preparing for her last match, I was able to catch some of the other finalists’ bouts. The first of them featured the most physically imposing swordsman I had ever seen. He was enormous, with a midsection shaped like a pickle barrel and a golden moustache wider than his head! He faced off against against a smaller, though capable swordfighter. The big fellow moved with purpose, deflecting his attacker’s assault with little shrugs, it seemed, letting the sword glance off his shining silver plate armor. The giant man had a sword himself, an impressive broadsword, but at that point in the fight it was being used more as a shield than a weapon. He was just sizing his opponent up, gauging his battle style before actually going on the offensive. It was clear to everyone watching who the victor would be just based on the sheer size and strength of the man, but what was actually surprising was that his attacks were incredibly fast. It seemed, with the added weight of the huge blade and armor, he should be sluggish, but nothing could be further from the truth. The golden-haired man began to use the two-handed sword in earnest then, but avoided slicing with its sharp edges entirely, otherwise I expect he could have cut his opponent in two. He won the match easily, using the flat side of his blade to lift his opponent into the air before hurling him out of the ring. The crowd applauded and cheered, “Osric, Osric, Osric!”

The second person to become a champion that day was also human, lean and quite plain-looking. He had long black hair that covered some of his face, tied into a small tail at the back and wore simple brown robes. The fellow announcing the fight said that his name was Talwyn, and he was the most gifted acolyte from the former mage’s academy in Serenade. These days he was also adding gummi magic to his repertoire, studying with Gummiton mystics and magicians. He battled a barbarian woman who fought with enormous claw weapons. The mage seemed to keep her at a distance easily enough, blowing her back with gusts of air from his staff. She roared and charged at him but Talwyn mired her with a mud spell, and while she struggled to pull herself free, began to summon a fireball in the air above his unassuming wooden staff. As the flames grew in size, you could see the hesitation in his opponent. The air over the ring began to heat up, and I could feel its unnatural warmth on my skin. All eyes were glued to the glowing crimson sphere as it rotated in space and grew in size. When the fireball was as wide across as a wagon wheel, and close to being launched, the barbarian admitted defeat. I can’t say that I blamed her. The crowd expressed some disappointment at the anticlimactic end of the duel. I’ll admit I had wanted to see what that fireball could do too.

As fate would have it, the very last final match of the day was between Maddi and a tall human named Bernard who strutted about the ring in a reddish-brown long coat. The man appeared fierce, with fiery crimson hair that flowed into an equally wild beard. The fight judge had the two shake hands as the match was about to start.

I heard people behind me whispering, “What a handsome rogue he is! I hope he isn’t too hard on that little gummi bear!”

“Rogue is right, you know he’s one of those sailors from Glassport don’t you?” Said someone else.

I didn’t know much about the place, only that it was, as the name suggested, a port town many miles away, and also that the folks who traveled through and did business there didn’t have the best of reputations.

Like the previous finals, this one was being held in the larger ring in front of the royal stands and the crowd was dense with spectators. I climbed the narrow stairs into the raised common seating area and pushed through some onlookers, attempting to get a better view. Bernard used a bo staff, because it was most like a trident. Apparently he was also a fisherman from the lands he hailed from and was accustomed to the range and feel of the weapon. He was well trained like Osric, but in a very different style, and I could tell that Maddi was having real difficulty for the first time that day. She was still faster, and obviously a much smaller target, but I could tell Bernard had fought alongside or perhaps with gummi bears, so he knew what he was doing. Maddi bounded over and around him, testing his strike range with the long staff, though I could tell he was learning hers at the same time. It was several minutes before either of them got a knockdown, and I gasped when Maddi was the one to end up face down in the dirt. She got back up, and they circled each other.

“Apologies lass, this is just a game after all.” Said Bernard with a gruff, accented voice as he expertly twirled his bo in one hand. “But I do play to win.” He grinned so wide I could see a shine of gold from one of his teeth.

Maddi patted her face with her paws, getting the dirt off before she responded. “Don’t worry about me any, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Good to know.” He said. “I’d be insulted to think you made it to the finals by accident.”

Maddi just smirked.

Her movements didn’t look quite as sure as before, as she was being more defensive now. The only weapon she carried was a small dagger sheathed at her sash belt, but I didn’t see how it would do her any good in this match. No lethal attacks allowed, not that Maddi would ever take someone’s life, and nothing that would permanently injure the man either. She bounded over him, I suspect to land on his head and use her weight to force him to the ground, but he seemed to be waiting for that, stepping out from under her before she landed and pummeling her with the staff, scoring his second knockdown. In fact, the hit very nearly sent my sister out of the ring. There was a collective gasp from the spectators.

“Come on, Maddi, come on…” I said under my breath as I watched.

“That’s two knockdowns now.” Said Bernard cooly. He stood back, taking a relaxed stance and hooked a thumb over his large silver belt buckle. I knew enough to realize that his nonchalant act was meant to rattle my sister. He didn’t know her like I did though. She always did her best work when she felt the pressure of a challenge.

“Not sure what you’ve heard about gummi bears, but we all know how to count, thanks.” Said Maddi. She hopped back to her feet and tossed her braid over her shoulder.

“Well that’s good! We only have to get to three after all.” Bernard said and chuckled.

From where I stood I couldn’t see as much of the fight as I wanted to. The humans in front of me were standing and crowding the wooden railing, so I could only see through their legs. I had to get a better view so I began to make my way to the very front of the wooden platform, maybe four meters above the fighting ring below.

Maddi and Bernard engaged one another again and again. With the weapon, he just had too much coverage and reach to his advantage. Given the inherent differences in our species, Maddi didn’t have the strength needed to disarm him either. This only left one option available to her: cunning. The burgundy gummi came in from the sailor’s side, waiting for his inevitable sweep. When it came, she slid under it, tipping her head back and letting her long braid trail out behind her as the staff whooshed over her face. I couldn’t help but cry out, if his hit had connected she would really have been hurt. She withdrew the small dagger from her belt in an instant as she moved, ending her slide just behind the man after passing right through his legs. She leapt up from the ground, leaving a small dust cloud, slashing the dagger carefully. I couldn’t see what exactly she had done, but it was apparent a moment later when the fisherman’s heavy leather belt and trousers suddenly slipped down to his knees. He instinctively reached down to pull them back up while Maddi jumped and kicked him in the small of the back, forcing him to the ground. Now it was one knockdown to two. The crowd roared with laughter at the unexpected turn of events. Bernard got up again, embarrassed, and was now forced to hold his trousers up, leaving him to fight with only one hand. It wasn’t difficult for Maddi to take the upper hand and score the next knockdown on her unbalanced opponent.

“That was a dirty trick!” Snarled the flustered man.

Maddi shrugged. “It’s just a game, but like you said, I play to win too.” She told him.

She bounced over him, avoided his awkward strike easily and landed on his shoulder blades. She scored her third knockdown. The spectators went wild. Even the king and gummi elders applauded excitedly from their vantage point. Bernard for his part, tried to stand tall after his defeat, red-faced though he was.

 “So this is what was more important than minding the shop today?” Came a gravelly voice from behind me. I knew it all too well and immediately broke out in a nervous sweat.

With the events of the afternoon, I had completely forgotten about Grandpa, hadn’t even considered that he might come looking for me. Now, hearing that stern tone made the fur at the back of my neck stand up and I felt like a cub who had been caught with his paw in the cookie jar.

“Gr-Grandpa! I can explain!” I started to say automatically, but in my haste as I turned to face him, I was bumped by a human next to me and lost my balance. The collision sent me tumbling back against the wooden guardrail of the stands. Unfortunately for me, the wooden slats were high and wide apart, so a cub my size could slip right between them, which I did. I just had time to see the look of surprise on my grandfather’s face as I fell from the tall platform.

The drop was dizzying, but I had the presence of mind to pull my limbs in and cover my head. Gummi bears are naturally bouncy so though I knew the fall could do some damage, it wasn’t life-threatening. What I hadn’t realized however, was that I was directly above Maddi’s humiliated opponent, Bernard the sailor.

Bernard yelped as a small green bear crashed into him from above, with enough force to knock him to his knees and force him to drop his pants yet again. I bounced safely off of him and rolled some distance away before getting to my feet, dusted myself off and stood before the man. I was about to ask him if he was alright, and apologize, but his face told me my best bet might just be to flee.

“You blasted gummis! Think you can just embarrass me like this and get away with it?” He said with an angry snort. He still struggled to keep his britches up over his underwear as he found his feet and brandished his weapon.

I quickly glanced  around me. Maddi had already been escorted away by one of the contest judges, Grandpa was high above me in the stands, and a bunch of onlookers had begun crowding around us, as if they thought another match was starting.

“Hey look!” Someone shouted. “Bernard’s fighting another gummi!”

“Guess he didn’t learn his lesson last time!” Someone rejoined. There was laughter.

Bernard’s face was perhaps even redder than his hair. He charged me, bo staff drawn, and he obviously meant to use it. Unlike my fall, this would undoubtedly leave a mark. I tried to run from the large roped-off arena but a tall human man reached down and forcibly shoved me back. Behind me, the humiliated fisherman roared. I was panicked and terrified.

“Venture, hey, boy!” I could just hear my Grandpa’s voice over the din of the crowd. I looked up into the stands and saw his familiar bearded face. “Use your bag!” He indicated the simple coinpurse at his waist and it took me a moment to catch his meaning.

I reached down and took my own pouch, the bag of holding, from my rope belt. Grandpa had shown me how it worked of course, so I knew all of its practical applications, so why did he want me to use it now?

The enraged sailor swung wildly, and natural instinct took over as I dived out of the way of the weapon while it swung past me. It struck the ground, sending a small shower of grit and pebbles into the air. I gasped and opened the bag. If the old shopkeeper thought this thing could help me, he was probably right.

“Can’t even win against a little cub!” Scoffed a bystander.

Bernard lunged at me.

I tugged the bag of holding wide open. I wasn’t even thinking about what I was doing. Bernard’s forward momentum took him right into the open mouth of the bag. The look on the man’s face as he stumbled into an impossibly-sized pouch, that was small only a moment ago was something to see. In the blink of an eye my assailant was gone. The roar of the crowd cut out almost immediately. They seemed as shocked as Bernard was by the turn of events. I surveyed the throng of onlookers surrounding me. They were nearly silent except for some confused whispers.

“Now say his name and let him out, boy!” I heard my Grandpa call down from above. So using the bag to store a person was just like with any other object. I understood now why my grandfather hadn’t shared this information with me, it could get a kid into a lot of trouble.

“Uh, what was his name again?” I asked the people around me. The thrill of the ordeal had momentarily made me forget.

“Bernard.” One of them told me.

“Oh right, Bernard!” I said after opening the bag up again.

The red-haired fellow suddenly sprouted from the magical pouch, tumbling forward, weapon still in hand. He sat on the ground near the edge of the ring, quite baffled judging from his expression.

“Sorry about that, and about landing on your head earlier.” I told him.

“Um, that’s alright lad.” He said quietly. For the time being at least, his anger was replaced by confusion.

The crowd, as intrigued as they had been a few moments earlier began to disperse once the action was over. Grandpa made his way down from the wooden viewing platform and walked over to me. Even at nearly sixty years of age the olive-colored bear was quite intimidating to behold with his puffed-out chest, full beard and serious expression.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that the contest was today and Maddi really wanted me to--” I began.

He held up a paw and I was silent. “Venture, you don’t need to explain, I understand perfectly well why you couldn’t miss today.” He said, his tone much more fair than I had been expecting.

“R-really?”

He nodded. “My boy, I’m not completely unreasonable. I was young once too, and I know most days there isn’t much going on in this town.” He huffed. “Though I suppose it’s more lively since the humans came to stay with us. My point is, you should have just told me.”

“Sorry Grandpa. I will next time.”

“The truth is, if you had reminded me last night about it I could have gone to bed earlier and opened the shop myself, maybe just done a half day. Besides, I wouldn’t have minded seeing more of the fights!” He added.

“’More?’” I asked.

He grinned. “I only saw a few but they were exciting, especially Maddi’s at the end there!”

“Yeah!” I said in agreement.

“That mage fellow’s fire spell?”

“I know, it was amazing!” I agreed.

“And you humbling that man with your bag was pretty entertaining too.” He said and gave me a wink.

I was going to ask him more about the bag’s capabilities, when two human soldiers, clad in blue and grey armor appeared next to us. We looked up at them.

“Excuse me, son.” One of the men who wore a reddish mustache said.

“You mean me?” I asked. It was fairly uncommon for a human to speak with me, except inside our store of course.

“Yes, you see, our King Josef has asked for an audience with you and the other winners of the contest.” He said.

I looked to my grandfather for help.

“That’s a mistake, my grandson here wasn’t part of the tourney, just got into a bit of an altercation afterwards with a pretty sore loser.” He explained.

“Be that as it may,” The other knight, a taller fellow with a dark goatee and scar over his eye said. “Our king has asked to speak with you, and it would be very rude to turn him down.”

I gulped, but the knight smiled down at me. My guess was to show me I wasn’t in any trouble, at least that was my hope. Regardless, my stomach began to knot itself.

Grandpa patted me on the back. “It’s alright Venture, let’s go see what the fellow has to say.”

I swallowed nervously but nodded my head. Two human knights were leading me away to meet their king, what did I have to be worried about?

[dargonwriter]

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: 

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)

Relationship:

Runaan/Tinker | Necklace Elf (The Dragon Prince)

Characters:

Runaan (The Dragon Prince)

Tinker | Necklace Elf (The Dragon Prince)

Original Characters

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Alternate Universe

Slow Burn

Friends to Lovers

Bonding

Team Dynamics

Action/Adventure

Minor Character Death

Language: English Published: 2018-11-20 Updated: 2019-05-07 Words: 38956 Chapters :9/? Comments: 57 Kudos: 84 Bookmarks: 11 Hits: 1101

CHAPTER 9 IS UP!

It took me longer than expected, since it’s one of my longest ones yet at over 8000 words, but it was fun to do I guess! You can click the link to read on AO3 or you could read below!

Gray followed the young man easily down the maze of hallways and doors. In truth, he didn't need an escort to find where they were heading, nor did he need a companion in case he was attacked, Gray simply found it amusing how the guard acted. He was clearly afraid, on edge. Gray could see in in every step, every glance back, every breath even. Good. Gray preferred people to fear him than to like him. It prevented an uprising, if people decided their debt to Gray didn't matter then it would be a mess for him to clean. Gray wasn't one for undue messes.

This young man likely had no true debt to Gray, likely it was the boy's parents who owed and he was simply trying to help. Gray found that those who only wanted to assist their parents in paying off their debts were more useful than those who owed directly. Sure, the loyalty could waver, but they would be willing to go far in order to help. Like the one who had stolen the Unitum from Xadia, Morti. His parents had owed and all of their children were helping, but Morti had the most conviction of his siblings. A shame he died... He would've made a great man one day.

Gray continued to follow as they descended some steps and the halls got colder and darker. The usual flames were changed and swapped out for blue fire that sucked the heat out of the room and only barely provided one the ability to see a few feet in front of them. The soldier in front of him shivered. Gray could see both of their breaths at every exhale. Perhaps, Gray thought, the cold this far from their destination was a bit excessive, but he didn't want to run the risk of his special prisoner escaping. The best way to do that was by cold.

They stopped at a door of stone, not iron or steel or any metal. Thick, heavy stone that the guard had to push out of the way with all his strength. Gray waited until the door was fully opened, and the guard was standing beside it, all but heaving as more puffs of hot air left his mouth. Gray entered.

The room was even colder in here, despite the real torches in each corner of the room. Gray had a feeling he knew as to why.

He scanned the room. Two beds on either side of the room were empty, the thin sheets for blankets still thrown around in the same position as the last 3 times Gray had visited. They hadn't been touched in weeks. Not since the first elf had died. So Gray began searching the corners and there he saw who he was looking for.

Huddled in a corner, shaking as he all but pressed himself into a flame was a male sunfire elf. His black hair had long since become a mess, so different from the shine of it when Gray had first gotten him. The bright yellow markings snaking down the elf's arms contrasted sharply with his dark skin, yet it seemed... off. The markings seemed to have dulled since the last time Gray had seen them. Almost as much as the elf's eyes had. His ears were arched downwards, his head rested against a wall. He was sick. That much had already been clear, but seeing the elf like this only confirmed what Gray had been told.

He walked forward, noting how the elf didn't even respond but to look up with weak eyes. At one point, this elf had been a warrior, and each time Gray got close the sunfire would attempt to attack. Even as the cold did as Gray had intended it to and broke down the elf's resolve, the elf usually at least flashed a snarl before giving in. Now, he barely flinched when Gray reached forward and grabbed the elf's chin. The elf closed his eyes in defeat, even pressing into the touch. Gray squeezed, hard enough to leave bruises, but all he received as a reaction was a weak whimper. This elf wasn't going to survive much longer.

Gray knew what caused this, it was obvious. The cold. The frigid temperatures. Sunfire elves were terrible with cold. Like heated metal suddenly dipped into a frozen lake, they tended to break after being faced with the cold long enough. But one problem with them was that if they warmed again, all that work went to waste. So they needed to constantly be in cold in order to not fight. But... Being in the cold after so long began making them sick, to a point where they couldn't generate their own heat at all anymore and thus only continued to freeze. They all died soon after.

And it probably didn't help that Gray stole their magic in short bursts as well. Elves were one of the few beings who could withstand having half of their magic taken away and survive it, then even replenish it after some time. That's why the flames were in the cell, so magic could be regenerated. But the flames only worked so well. And this particular elf was already so upset after the other elf, a female sunfire he had been captured with, had gotten sick first and had died not a month ago.

It would be best to put him out of his misery now.

Gray pulled out a pocket watch from inside his cloak with his free hand. The sunfire elf opened his eyes slightly, a mix of emotion in his eyes. Fear, curiosity, pain... But one unmistakable one was the pleading, hopeless expression. He was begging for Gray to end it.

Who was Gray to deny someone their final wish?

He let go of the other's chin, only to go to the broken horns of the warrior. He grabbed onto one, pulled the elf's head back and brought the pocketwatch down so it was barely below the other's lips, then softly began chanting.

The elf barely screamed as the last of his life drained into the pocket watch, and he fell completely limp.

Ephraim the guard peered into the room at exactly the wrong moment. A gasp escaped his lips as he saw the sunfire elf drop, terrified green eyes going wide. Then Gray turned to look at him.

Gray was suddenly pale, with what seemed to be dark blue cracks going over his face. Veins. He looked like he was the one sick, instead of the sunfire elf, with dark circles under his eyes and cracked lips as well. Ephraim looked away before he did something he'd regret, but it was already too late.

Gray walked out of the cell, not even batting an eye at the dead body he left behind, and fixed his dark-eyed gaze on Ephraim. He reached up with a hand, also pale and cracked and terrifying, and placed it on Ephraim's cheek. It felt like sandpaper. "Thank you for telling me."

Gray said with an almost smile, but twisted beyond recognition. Ephraim suppressed a shiver from both cold and the creeps.

"We should head back up." Gray said suddenly, leading the way out and clearly expecting Ephraim to follow. He shot Ephraim another smile, then said "Your family would be most disappointed if you never returned to them."

Ephraim was unsure of what the other meant, but disobeying was a death wish.

Another breath, another step.

Another shiver.

"...Tinker..."

Apollo whined as he was shaken awake by a firm hand, pressing into it on instinct but still keeping his eyes closed.

"Tinker."

He knew it was Runaan, trying to wake him up, and Runaan wasn't the type to wait about waking someone, but Apollo also knew the sun wasn't even rising yet. It was too early for this... "No." He whined softly, burying his face into one of the bags he had reclaimed from Spiel's little nest.

"We have to get up. The humans have already set up their booths and carts again, we need to go." Another shake.

Apollo worked open one eye, only to glare at Runaan with it. At least the assassin looked tired as well... "Can't it wait? I'm hardly any use before sunrise." He turned over so his back was to the other.

"No." Runaan said simply. Apollo groaned and closed his eyes again.

...It was too early for this kind of thing...

Runaan ended up having to half drag Tinker out of camp before the sunfire finally began walking on his own. At least he had settled into a tired compliance.

It was quiet, which was a change not unwelcome after travelling with the other elves for so long. He took the time to look around him while Tinker continued to on, half asleep behind him. Tinker hadn't been joking about being useless before sunrise...

The sun was barely rising now, the trees were changing from the dark purple shade they often took at night, to the normal brown of the day. Deep blue leaves turned to green as small rays of light shot through the many trunks. Birds began chirping shortly afterwards, filling the forest with lively noises.

The pair pulled up their hoods and put on their gloves before following the gravel path leading to the human town. As Runaan pulled on his left one, he felt the cold of metal inside. The ring. He had put it in there the night before when he fell asleep, as to not mess up the puzzle. He glanced over at Tinker and the thought the night before returned: Maybe the sunfire would be in higher hopes if Runaan presented the ring back to him...

He slipped the circular, metal puzzle out from the glove and looked over it once more. It had been rather complicated, he had to admit. He had barely gotten more than a few hours of sleep the night before because he was trying to figure it out. He looked at Tinker once more, then spoke up.

"Tinker."

The sunfire's bright eyes lifted and found Runaan's quickly. He looked startled.

Runaan fought off a small smile at the expression, instead holding the ring out in his flat hand. Tinker stopped walking. "You solved it." He observed, his started expression changing to simple surprise and... Was that Pride or something else?

Either way, the smith took the ring and looked it over with a smile. Cute. "It was rather difficult." Runaan admitted with a hum. "But yes, I did." Before the sunfire could say anything else, Runaan watched the path through the trees and took the sunfire by the shoulders, then all but steered the elf towards the town.

The town was lively even at this early hour. Unlike when they had first arrived the day before, when the sun had already been up for hours, the town was calm, quiet as people set up carts or booths and spoke to one another or set out merchandise. Perhaps it had been a mistake to arrive this early after all. People were barely setting up, which meant very little would happen until more people began waking up.

Tinker hummed. "It seems we have some time to spare." Indeed they did. "Well, yesterday I saw a little area perfect for sleeping in for an hour or two so you have fun being your broody assassin self." He did a salute like Spiel and Runaan did, apparently it was unconscious as the sunfire turned away without  second word and walked away. Runaan watched the sunfire disappear behind a house, arms crossed, an amused smile on his face.

Tinker was certainly something else.

Astil didn't dream often.

In fact, she hardly slept much at all, but when she did it was always something of note. Good or bad, it almost always had something to do with the future.

First, she stood low on a tree, watching a fortress with glowing torches lighting the whole night around it. Runaan crouched beside her, holding one of the two swords Tinker had made such a fuss about. "We need to get past the guards." The assassin said, watching the fortress. He seemed tired.

Astil looked up at the moon. Full. Yet, a blink later and it was new, and there were nothing but stars. Astil and Runaan were no longer on a tree, instead on rocky soil behind a large rock, and with a look around she realized his weapons were not the same. "Astil?" The moonshadow asked, looking at her. She looked back at him quickly. He was worried now, but determined, and with something in his eyes that hadn't been there a moment ago. Care.

Astil opened her mouth to respond, but everything faded to the very stars above and a moment after she was in an empty hallway lit with dark blue torches. She felt cold. The walls were of stone, so was the ground. There wasn'tr a single star here. "Astil!!" A scream erupted from somewhere behind her. She whirled around, only to be in another hall, this one with walls of wood and red carpets. Runaan approached, a frown on his face. In his arms was an unconscious Tinker.

Another blink, it was Rainy in Runaan's arms. She was covered in blood and burns. Astil gasped and tried to rush forward, but something grabbed onto her leg and she fell. As she struck the floor, she found she struck mud instead of carpet. She realized soon enough that she was surrounded by human soldiers. Everyone but Rainy was present. Spiel and Runaan were both on their knees, held down by multiple men with swords held at their throats. One of Spiel's wings were wrapped in a messily made cast of sorts, and by his expression, the guard who held onto that particular wing to keep it still was pressing hard enough to make it hurt.

Astil was still on the ground, a hand was pressed on her back, forcing her down even as she struggled. Dustin stood, but had his arms roughly held behind his back. In the center of the half circle formed was Tinker, who wasn't being held down at all, but in front of the sunfire elf stood a figure of a man. Astil couldn't make it out in the darkness. They were speaking, but the words were lost on Astil. Behind the man was some sort of weapon...

The unitum.

The figure said something, then seemed to smirk as the sunfire suddenly turned with wild eyes toward Runaan and Spiel.

"Wait- NO!"

Blood pounded in Astil's ears as she saw the flick of motion and one of the two elves held by the soldiers was released. He fell to the ground. Astil couldn't see which one it had been as her vision blurred, and the only thing clear was the dark crimson of blood as it slowly pooled out of her friend's neck. She fought and shook, struggling just as Tinker rushed forward towards the body, only to be held back by the figure.

She watched in horror as Tinker was yanked back into his conversation with the figure. Someone grabbed one of her horns and pulled her head up, then placed something sharp and cold against her neck. Her breath hitched, then she stopped breathing altogether. Tinker turned to look back, his eyes meeting Astil's. As soon as he had looked at her, though, he went back to his conversation with the figure. His ears moved and twitched as he pleaded and negotiated.

Astil watched, pushing past forming black spots in her vision. But soon, darkness overtook her and everything faded to black.

She woke with a loud gasp, shooting up and looking around, panting as she tried to regain her breath. She was still in the forest, but it was sunny and she wasn't in the same clearing. She relaxed with a soft sigh, reminding herself that it had been a dream.

No. Not a dream. Startouches didn't dream. That had been a vision.

She began shaking, and hugged her knees to her chest to keep some semblance of balance when her arms shook too bad to hold her up. Her breathing became uneven, and for the first time in a long time, she felt tears well in her eyes. She had never had a vision before, they were rare even among elders...

Visions showed things that were set in stone, not up to probability.

Which meant that someone would die.

Tinker hummed as he awoke again, soaking in the light from the sun now above him. He had specifically chosen this spot because of its position. The wall was rather rough, but it was in the perfect spot to sit if one wanted to absorb the sunlight.

There was a quiet noise above him and he looked up quickly, only to find a certain assassin standing on the roof above him, looking down at him. What was it with the moonshadow and being high up? "I would think you part skywing with how you constantly choose the sky over the ground." He called, receiving a chuckle from Runaan.

"That would imply that I like heights." He jumped down suddenly, landing with a quick roll and coming up to his feet easily. Tinker wondered how he could do that without being phased at all. If Tinker tried that, he'd probably break something. He wanted to ask.

Instead, the comment about heights caught his attention. He watched Runaan come closer. "You don't like heights?" He was an assassin, how did he not?

"It's an odd fear, isn't it?" Runaan asked, as if he wasn't phased by Tinker's surprise. "I've never been interested in being in high places. Yes, I can easily catch myself or break my fall if I need, and I haven't fallen since I was younger, but it's the idea that I could fall. If I lean over the edge of something, it's much like a tingling feeling, as if my head will suddenly lose its wits and force the rest of me to slip. It's an odd feeling to describe." He lifted his arms and scooped his hair into his hands to pull it back behind his shoulders, he didn't have a string to tie it back with so he let it go, only for a few stray pieces to fall around his face again. He gave a small sigh and tried to flick them back. Apparently he was done explaining because he said "Let's head back the buying area. We still need the map."

Tinker followed happily, now that the sun was up and his energy was back he didn't mind going back to what they had left off doing the night before. Except this time he had a different idea. He pulled out a dagger from, grabbing the moonshadow's attention next to him. "Where did you get that?"

The dagger was silver, with a deep fuller on either side. The guard was designed to look like wings, wrapping around the base of the blade some with carefully designed feathers. In the center of where the wings met was a single blue crystal surrounded by a thin circle of darker gray silver. The grip was just a deep blue ribbon wrapped tightly around the tang, but Tinker had made sure it wouldn't come loose. The small pommel was another blue crystal attacked to a metal piece that screwed in, as the hilt itself was hollow and could hold most liquids without any escaping unless someone were to press the crystal on the wings.

Tinker was rather proud of it. Still, he shrugged. "I grabbed it beforen we left. New plan."

"If you plan to stab someone with that, I just want to make sure you know how little damage that thing could do."

The comment drew a small laugh from the sunfire as he quickly shook his head. "I intend to trade it." Upon receiving a curious look from the assassin, he began explaining. "Last time, we had nothing obvious that we were willing to trade, today I have something I'm willing to part with." His excited smile turned into a small frown when Runaan made an amused noise.

"By all means, go up to a human whilst holding a dagger like that, see what happens."

Tinker sighed but placed the dagger back in its sheath on his belt and followed as the assassin led the way through the crowded streets, weaving between around men and woman who were either talking to one another or simply checking through their bags. The first three places they tried were dead ends, and the fourth nearly got them arrested because, yeah, apparently humans didn't take calmly to other people pulling out knives.

That didn't stop Tinker though. "Okay, what if we just sold the dagger?" Tinker suggested as they hid between two buildings while some guards walked by. They were so close to getting arrested.

The look he received from the assassin ignited something in Tinker, and the response even more so. "I doubt anyone would know who buys and trades goods like weapons."

After that, as soon as Runaan said they were clear Tinker darted through the streets. Despite Runaan's surprised shout, Tinker kept going. He had seen a sign earlier about buying and selling goods.

He stopped, practically panting once he reached said cart, run by a happy looking man who didn't have to try to remind Tinker of Riku when he had been younger. He smiled. "I heard you bought other people's things."

"Yes, we do." The man looked surprised, to say the least. "But I have too many thing right now to purchase anything else." Tinker frowned and suppressed a whine.

Well there went his idea. "Okay. Thank you for your time..." He mumbled, about to leave, ears lowering beneath his hood,

The man's eyes widened as he quickly added "But if you need money or to sell something, there is an auction start here in about an hour, you could try that. It's run by a friend, he'll walk you through the process."

Tinker's ears lifted again, as did his mood. He smiled and barely thanked the man before he headed back to Runaan, dodging men and women alike as he did so.

As he got closer, he slowed down to make it seem like he wasn't excited, instead putting on a smug attitude. Luckily, Runaan had barely moved from the alleyway and just glared as Tinker approached.

"I found a solution."

Great lakes it was burning up...

Rainy fanned herself with a hand desperately, but the air did nothing to help her. She needed water. It was hot enough in the ocean during the summer, but of course on land she was dried out, exhausted, and overheating. Their little boat ride over lava hadn’t helped either.

Dustin crossed his arms as he glared at her. "What are you doing?" Maybe she was being a little dramatic with the hand waving thing but it was just common sense to not let an oceanmist overheat.

"I'm dying..." She answered back, falling back onto the ground behind her. "It's too hot. I need water." Something cold tapped her shoulder, and she looked up to see Spiel behind her, holding a water can to her arm. She couldn't help but smile at his goofy expression. "Not like that, like something I could swim in, but thanks."

Dustin scoffed. Actually scoffed. "Well, we can't leave camp so you'll just have to wait until Tinker and Runaan come back."

"Astil left."

The way Dustin froze, it made Rainy giggle some despite the heat. "Yes- well... Astil's doing-"

"Girl stuff?" Spiel offered in a monotone voice, but Dustin quickly corrected.

"Startouch stuff."

"At least he didn't actually agree with girl stuff." Rainy shrugged to Spiel, who held up his hands in a defensive gesture. His wings rose a little as well. A growl from Dustin took her attention, and she glanced back at him to find him standing from where he sat on a log. "Where are you going?" She asked, tilting her head as he turned and began heading to the edge of the clearing.

He didn't glance back as he answered "To find Astil."

"What happened to-" Before Spiel could even finish his sentence, Dustin was gone "-not leaving camp... Ass."

All day Gray had been searching for whatever had drawn him to stay here, yet still, nothing presented itself to him. Everything was the same as before, the people greeted 'Ronin' without even questioning who he was, the shopkeepers sold nothing different, there wasn't even rumors of a shipment of new magical items coming in. And yet... That feeling of expecting something here still stayed.

He soon began aimlessly wandering about, hoping that perhaps whatever called him would just jump out at him at random.

How right he had been.

"Any minute, folks!" Someone shouted, drawing Gray's attention from the cobble street below him. He looked up, finding the voice. And announcer stood on a makeshift wooden stage made out of some pieces of wood nailed together, but it worked to let him be seen, even over the crowd of people already gathering to see what the announcer was speaking about. Gray had to admit: The man's enthusiasm was quite a feat. "Five minutes until the auction starts! And this one, I have a feeling, is one you wouldn't want to miss!"

Well… Gray had nothing better to do with his time he supposed.

He stepped into the crowd, pushing past people until he was in a comfortable spot to see everything that would be presented. “Thirty seconds!” The announcer called later. Someone suddenly bumped into Gray, and he turned to see a dark face under a hood.

“Sorry.” They said, before a second hooded man grabbed his arm and pulled him closer into the center with a gloved hand

Cloaks and hoods on such a hot day? Intriguing.

He glanced back at the pair, studying them even though their back was turned toward him. One dressed in primarily greens and teals, with multiple layers of clothing it seemed. There was a cloak wrapped around his shoulders, hiding most of his shoulders and upper arms underneath it. He was taller, practically towering over everyone else there, even his companion. Gray was perplexed.

The other one dressed in primarily red, orange, and yellow, colors mainly found in the upper class, yet their hood was made from leaves, sticks, and even feathers it seemed. So different from his clothes. His arms were also covered in a cloth of a brown color than anything, not exactly off from the red, but certainly contrasted. Almost as if these two didn't understand fashion at all. They did seem completely out of place here.

He moved closer, making sure to keep his distance. The taller one kept his head down, hiding every part of his face except for his mouth and just the shadow of his nose. The shorter, though, had his head up and was looking around, every once in awhile whispering things to the taller stranger, who frowned and muttered something having to do with 'attention' each time. Most of the short one's face was hidden as well, but he could at least see the other's eyes, they practically seemed to glow after all.

What was more interesting, though, were their hands. Both of them wore gloves, as he had seen earlier, but the taller one had his hands clasped together. The interest in that: Only three fingers and his thumb were clasped on each hand, the pinky was sticking up.

Gray checked the other one as well, and though it took some watching, it was similar that when the stranger closed his hand, his pinky didn't even move. How odd...

He reached into his bag and pulled out the dead shell of a lady bug, then held it close to his mouth and prepared to speak words over it, but the announcer speaking stopped him.

"Alright, folks, bidding's open." The announcer said, making even the taller stranger look up. Gray muttered a curse under his breath and pocketed the ladybug again, then looked up at the announcer continued. "The first thing on the table today is a previously used but well taken care of saddle. Bid starts at twenty pieces! Twenty, twenty, can I get- Twenty! Alright, twenty five? Twenty- Yes!-" Gray sighed and blocked the announcer's voice out, instead going back to studying the hooded strangers. While shorter seemed interested in the saddle, he did seem interested in anything that moved, so Gray ignored him and shifted to look at the taller again instead. He had looked down again, apparently not interested in the saddle.

The entire time the saddle was on the block, neither bid, nor even discussed it.

Three other things were bid as well: A clock, a vase, and some sort of tool that Gray could care less about, but none of those times did either man seem even remotely interested.

The fifth item that came up though...

"Next up is a beautiful little dagger, pure, real sapphires, made solely out of steel and silver." People whistled as the weapon was brought forth, some gave interested 'oohs' as well. Even Gray's attention was captured, the way it caught the sunlight made it almost seem to glow.

It was silver in color, the part around the blade itself looked like wings, wrapping around the sharp metal some with carefully designed feathers. In the center, a single blue crystal surrounded by a thin circle of darker gray sat alone, soaking in and reflecting the light around it. The bottom half of it wasn't as intricate as the first half, with a simple blue ribbon as a grip and and another, rounder, sapphire pommel. Still, as a whole it was stunning. And more than likely very valuable. Gray wouldn't be surprised if the starting price was up in the twenties, or possibly even the thirties.

"It's up." He heard the shorter stranger say. Gray managed to take his eyes off the weapon to look at the pair, to find the one dressed in red lightly pushing the other one. The taller looked up, then nodded.

So these two were connected to the knife in some way.

That made it infinitely more valuable to the curious mage.

The announcer let people gawk, then shouted "Bidding starts at six pieces!"

What?

The people around him had a similar reaction, wondering why it was so cheap. Some became weary in that moment, others became excited at the price they could afford.

Gray glanced at the pair, only to find the short one practically beaming from where he stood, and the taller making a tight line of his lips.

He expected them to be the first to bid, they looked as if they would, but alas it was someone else who raised his hand when the announcer prompted for six. Then ten. By the time the number reached fifteen, Gray knew for sure. If these men weren't trying to buy the knife that only meant one other thing.

They were trying to sell it.

Which meant they needed the money or they needed to get rid of it.

Either way, Gray wanted the weapon even more now. It was the key to unlocking who these two strange men were. He raised a hand and shouted “Twenty-five!” then smirked when the announcer pointed at him.

“Twenty five, we got twenty five, can we get a Thirt- Thirty!” He pointed at another young man who had raised his hand.

Another shouted out “Thirty five,” And received recognition from the announcer.

“Thirty five, let’s go up to fort-” Gray raised his hand pointedly, noticing quickly how the first man frowned and dropped his own hand. So forty was the limit for him. How much was the other one’s limit?

He spoke up, looking at the other challenger as he shouted “Fifty!” As loud as he could. He smirked as he saw all the hope leave the man’s eyes, replaced by disdain. There it was.

“Fifty, fifty? Can we jump another ten? Sixty? No? Very well! Going once, going twice!”

A beat of silence. Gray found himself focused not on his prize, though, instead staring at the strangers again. Even the taller one was now watching, intent. Gray could now see his eyes and nose as well as just his mouth, in fact. Something was off now that he saw the taller one’s face… Gray couldn’t tell what, but his face seemed darker than Gray had thought a moment ago. Almost like…

“Sold! Come get your prize after the auction!”

Gray sighed, the thought being cut off by the announcer’s ‘announcement.’ He merely nodded at the man on stage, then glanced back at the tall stranger. His head was down again. Gray nearly cursed under his breath.

Oh well. Soon he would meet these two strangers.

And figure out why they were here.

“Astil?” Dustin called, weaving through the trees in search of the startouch, his frustration growing with each step he took. They had orders to stay and for once he had to agree with the one who dealt them. They couldn’t afford to be separated, especially not this close to a human town. In case something happened, it would be better if they stuck together as much as they could so no one got hurt.

Which was why he was searching for Astil.

He had never been good with trees, not as much as he was good with dirt, but he at least knew how to track.

There were various dips in the dirt and the decaying leaves, caused by Astil no doubt. She stepped lightly, and it was difficult to make out a bootprint and prove it was hers, but Dustin had figured it out after a moment. Now he followed.

He froze when he pushed past two trees, entering a clearing, and in that clearing was Astil.

She was clearly upset. She had her knees pulled to her chest, her arms resting on top of them, and her head buried in her arms. Her hair fell against her back, messy and filled with dirt and sticks. Had she been laying down?

“Astil?” He asked, the frustration melting away to worry as he heard a few sobs escape the startouch.

Her head shot up, she looked at him. A few trails of almost glowing tears ran down her face, dripping onto her pale clothes. Her eyes were wide, revealing the pale yellow they were. She actually looked surprised. Dustin’s anger melted more.

He stepped forward. “Hey… You alright?”

“Fine.” She shot back, wiping her face and getting up quickly enough. Dustin didn’t believe her. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. You disappeared on us.” He pointed out, lowering his voice some when he heard how defensive she sounded. “Rainy was worried. Do… Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” He sighed when she shook her head. “Astil, please. As your teammate, I have to know.”

She glared at him. “It’s nothing I can tell.”

“A vision?”

She released a shaky breath and merely nodded, but nothing more

Whatever she had seen in that vision… It wouldn’t be good.

Rainy was getting worse.

At first, it was just some mild complaining, now she had gone silent and was practically panting as she practically leaned over the water canister Spiel had handed her. She was not okay.

Spiel sighed. His flapping was barely helping at this point, and he could fly quite awhile without getting tired but just flapping for no reason except to push air? That was a different story... So he slowed the wing beats until he stopped completely, taking care to make sure she hadn't noticed. Both to his relief, and to his concern, she didn't even make a noise of acknowledment, only panting more.

She really needed to cool off...

He looked up at the sky, partially blocked by the branches of the tree overhead but otherwise clear of even a single cloud. The sun was nearly completely above them. "I'll be back." He told her, only recieving a hum in response.

He didn't want to go, in case something happened he wanted to be there to help, but it would only take a few minutes to find the river nearby, then he could return and take her there. With a plan in mind, he spread his wings, nodded at her once, then took off into the sky.

He hadn't left.

Astil was happy for the comfort, but at the same time, Dustin hadn't left which gave Astil no time to think over the vision and try to sort it out. Visions were never that straight forward, she heard. There were mixes, twists, sometimes one situation was actually at another place in time and other times they were in the same time, but with the wrong person involved. It was all so confusing...

Dustin had apparently sensed her shift, why was her ability to mask emotions so difficult to reset? "Astil?" He asked softly. They had only known each other for a few days but the one word was the quietest he had best since they met. She couldn't help but give a surprised look. He must have taken it wrong, because even softer, even with a tinge of worry, he asks "Are you sure you can't talk about it? It may help."

"I can't risk you trying to change anything, or telling anyone." She responded with a soft shake of his head. This was a burden of her-

She couldn't even finish the thought as he grabbed her by the shoulders and looked straight at her with meaning filled brown eyes. She froze, shocked at his movement and even more shocked at how serious he sounded as he said, very carefully. "I won't do either. I swear it upon the very earth we sit on, I will even swear it on your stars if I must. Even if I have to swear myself to complete silence, I will still do it if it helps you." A pause. Neither spoke for a moment, Astil frozen by his words, Dustin because he looked like he, too, was about to start crying. Then, softly, "I don't want to see you, of everyone else here, upset."

Astil had been told when she was younger that she could only tell the elders if she ever had a vision, that they would always help her sort it out. However, they weren't here. Dustin was. He wanted to help...

She took a shaky breath, looking down to avoid his gaze as she decided.

Then, hesitantly and with a sense of worry so unlike her, she told him.

Everything.

“Rainy?” Spiel asked as he landed back into the center of camp again. His eyes widened when he saw her, and rushed forward. She was resting against a tree trunk, looking like she was about to pass out. Oceanmists really could not handle the heat, could they? “Hey, hey,” He said quickly, gathering her in his arms.

She hummed, managing a confused look before going limp against him, completely out of it. She needed to cool off now.

“Hold on.” He said, sliding off the pair of goggles he wore and securing them over his eyes. Man… It sucked when he had to fight the wind getting in his eyes… But it would be worse for her. He made sure to hold on to her with his arms, then spread his wings and took off again.

He broke through the trees above him with more power than the last time, practically shooting into the air like a loosed arrow. The extra wind startled her into a more aware position. She gave a loud shout as she looked down, grabbing onto Spiel tighter. Admittedly, it was freaking adorable. “SPIEL!” She yelled loudly, clearly terrified. Even her ears seemed to straighten and lower some at the same time.

As he gained altitude, he slowed them and only flapped his wings enough to keep them in their current place in the sky. Like any reasonable elf in Spiel’s position, he laughed.

“Spiel!” She shouted again, this time more indignantand less terrified. That was good, at least.

He gave her a goofy smile, then asked with the best shit-eating smirk he could muster "How's this for cooling off?"

If looks could kill, he would be dead and she'd be fallingto her own death.

"Okay, well, this is only half of the experience!" He continued, keeping his cheery tone. Before she could ask, he folded his wings around her, and they dropped.

Her screams were loud, but the wind around them was louder. He watched with pure amusment as she shut her eyes tight and held onto him harder than he knew she could grip. Her hair blew up around her face, the ponytail coming loose as air rushed through it. That would be painful to brush out later...

He looked down, then spread his wings suddenly to slow them, wincing a little at the sudden force upon them, but pleased when her screaming was suddenly cut off, instead replaced by a small "Uh-" As they suddenly stopped dropping.

Freaking hilarious.

Well... Until she banged on his chest pretty hard.

In hios surprise, he lost a little more altitude and they dropped some more, again Rainy screamed for the duration of the drop and again, she seemed surprised when he was able to slow them and regain height. She growled once Spiel had slowed them, again batting at his chest.

"Warn me next time, you idiot!" She shouted, clearly distressed.

Spiel hummed, amused still. "No promises." When she growled again, he chuckled at her. "Oh come on, you can't be that afraid of heights, can you? I hear flying is just like swimming."

"Except the water will support you and you don't need wings or help to swim!" She snapped, looking down. Her hair was a mess in general, but the side he saw when she turned her head was so much more than just 'a mess.' "In the sky, there's nothing supporting you! The moment you're without a thing that can fly, you drop!"

Well... She did have a good point he supposed. "Then I suppose you should be lucky you're with me." He recieved another bat to his chest for his words.

"Put me down." She insisted, then again, this time highlighting every word with another hit. "Put. Me. Down."

"I'll have to drop you~"

"SPIEL!!"

"Okay, okay," He shrugged, then began gliding down easily so to not give her a mini heart attack again. He landed on the shore of the river easily with a chuckle, noticing how she practically jumped out of his arms. "Never again?" He asked with a chuckle.

A scoff. "Never."

"I'll try to note that." He gave a mock wing salute with a smirk. Yeah, he was so doing that again sometime. "Now... turn around." He took her by the shoulders and pointedly turned her so she could see the blue of the lake.

Immediately, he saw her anger cool into surprise. "We should get back to camp." She said with a soft shake of her head. "We shoudln't-"

"No way. You were suffering back there. Go, have fun." He began pushing her towards the water, folding his wings against his back so he didn't get them wet at all.

He watched her frown, then look at the river, then back at him. He only nodded, and she sighed. "Only if you swim with me."

Wait what?

"Oh, no, I don't swim."

Rainy scoffed again, taking Spiel's hand and dragging him closer to the water, despite him struggling away. "And I don't fly, yet you still dragged me up there. Come on, wuss." Of course she would use that against him. He was just trying to have fun!

"Rain! I really can't swim!" He argued, worridly lifting his wings to keep them out of the water.

She stopped suddenly, then turned to look at him with almost offense. "You can't- What? What happened to the whole 'flying is just like swimming' thing??"

"I HEARD!"

She shook her head, a small sliver of him hoped she would say alright and let him go, but instead: "Then I guess today's the day you learn." She dragged him further into the water, making him give a loud groan/whine hybrid.

"I honestly don't understand why skywings swim! Or how! Like do they use their wings, or just their arms, how do they keep their wings dry?" He could tell she wasn't listening, but these were ginuine questions he had and by the Azure heavens he needed answers! No one ever taught him to swim!

As he expected, she ignored his compaints, and the way that he lifted his wings to keep them out of the water, instead holding on and dragging until she was satisfied with where he stood in the water. It was at least up to his chest. The bottom part of his wings were soaked, and he sighed.

"Well now we'll have to walk back," He said, finally folding his wings behind him again with a pout. He cringed and looked back to the shore longingly, though he stays put once she let go. "My wings haven't been preened since the morning we left Xadia and now they're soaked." He told her.

She actually rolled her eyes at him. "Okay, well, maybe soaked wings are good." He shot her a look to tell her she was dead wrong. "Oh well. So, the first thing when learning how to swim is to-"

Dear cloudy skies... This was going to suck.

Spiel sighed as Rainy continued to talk.

Neither of them noticed a super-sized fish coming towards them until it was too late...

Dustin frowned once Astil finished. That.. That was bad. Very, very bad.

The startouch released a breath, then said "I've never had a vision before, but it's crucial we figure out the meaning. Visions aren't always straightforward, sometimes they're filled with symbolism that makes it hard to figure out whether it's just a weird dream, or an actual vision."

"Well, I'm not sure how much help I'll be with the non-obvious answer," He crossed his arms and tilted his head in her direction to highlight his point as he said "Earthblood elves aren't exactly well known for much else than being straightforward."

Astil nodded. "I'm aware. But... With this vision it may be better to have a more... Obvious mind." Obvious wasn't the word Dustin would pick, he couldn't argue as she continued. "It seems like a simple one, more 'straightforward' than some I've heard of." She placed a knuckle against her cheek and was clearly biting at the skin there, a behavior Dustin didn't expect to see from a startouch. Nervous ticks, or bad habits, were something he assumed the 'regal startouches' wouldn't do.

"Noted." He said, still rather surprised by her, well, Normal behavior. He quickly shook off the surprise in favor of a more serious mood. Someone was going to die, right now was not the time to be confused by the actions of a startouch elf. "So what's the first plan of action?"

"A timeline."

"A... What?"

She sighed and shook her head. "A timeline, a series of events put together on a line depicting points of time?" By the look she gave him, he assumed she thought he was an idiot. He crossed his arms indignantly.

"Okay, noted. How do you go about making this timeline?"

Suddenly, she was standing. She walked over to a tree, then took quite a few leaves that had some sort of deformity, whether it was size, holes, or a different color, none looked like the others she grabbed. She found a patch of dirt, then drew a long line with it and set the leaves to the side. "We start by probability. First, there are two different possibilities, based off of who we see... I-In the forest." It was obvious what she meant: Who she saw die. But if she wanted to call it that, then that was alright. "First, there's the chance of Spiel," She held up a leaf with two more leaves seemingly attached. "And then there's a chance of Runaan."

She held up a thinner leaf with her other hand. “There is also a chance of both, since I in truth couldn’t see anything, but I think it’s only one.”

“And how do you know for certain when you got one and not the other?” Dustin asked, preparing for another… however long he’d have to listen again.

Astil put down the two leaves, on the opposite side of the other ones. “Process of elimination. We need to find literal time pointers or indications, landmarks in time.” Dustin paused, thinking back to what she had told him about the vision.

“The moons.” A pause. He looked her straight in the eye as she gave a look that he took as ‘explain’ “You said one time it was full, but another time it was new. Those are your ‘points in time’ right?”

She sighed. “I was thinking of saving those for more figurative use later, often times moons are used as things to be interpreted through symbolism, but… I think the straightforwardness would work here. Yes. Though I’m unsure which would come first.” Dustin rolled his eyes.

“Maybe I’m being too obvious with it, but the full moon’s first, and the full moon’s coming up, and the new moon’s next.”

A sigh, then a “Very well, that would work.” Dustin smiled and nodded for her to continue.

She didn’t right away, instead picking through the leaves until she found two leaves with holes in them, one on the very tip, one right in the middle. She placed them on the line, placing them a good distance away from each other, but neither on the exact end of the line, leaving them a smaller distance away from the ends.

“So these are our points.” She said, placing a hand on each. “Now, the next step is finding anomalies.” A pause. He waited for her to speak again, but once she did not, he sighed and began trying to search through what he knew as well. Only for her to speak up as soon as he tried. “Tinker.”

“What?”

“Tinker.” She said again. “I saw him badly hurt, Yet he was fine in the forest. So the forest has to happen before he gets hurt.” She took two more leaves, one badly ripped and one bright yellow, then placed the bright yellow one in front of the ripped, somewhat off the line.

Makes sense. “Okay.” He waited a moment, making sure she wouldn’t say anything else, then began speaking his own mind. “Well, I think that you and Runaan are retaliating or something in one of those moments, like something happened and you’re reacting. The other one might involve the Unitum since you said you saw it behind the mystery man. Maybe… Maybe that retaliation has something to do with Rainy being hurt?”

“Not to mention that I only saw her once, and that she wasn’t in the forest.” She suddenly froze, going rigid even as she said, “Y-Yes, It would make sense… She would likely not… survive those burns I saw…”

Oh. He… hadn’t implied that… “I-“ She cut him off quickly.

“Yes. That would make sense… If the full moon involves Rainy’s injury…” She went silent suddenly as she began moving different leaves to different spots. Dustin could do nothing but watch as she worked.

She didn’t stop until almost all of the leaves were somewhere. He looked at her expectantly, then swept his hands over the timeline to spread his point. “Care to explain?”

She looked it over, again biting on the inside of her cheek, before nodding and speaking up. “If Runaan is the one in the forest, it would put the event after both moons, which of course would cause an anomaly with Tinker’s injuries, as I think the full moon was actually a retaliation of some sort involving Rainy and the forest actually takes place between the new and full moon. So it has to be Spiel.”

Unfortunately.

Not that Dustin has anything against Runaan, but if he had to choose between the assassin and the lively skywing…

“SPIEL!” Someone shouted, far off. Dustin’s eyes grew wide and he looked at Astil, who looked equally surprised.

“That was Rainy.” Astil said, getting up urgently and running to the edge of the clearing, theory forgotten. “They’ll need help.”

Dustin nodded and sprinted behind her.

Already things were happening.

“Spiel!” Rainy shouted again as the giant fish turned back towards her. It was nearly three times as large as the largest fish found in the oceanmist home! Still, she wasn’t worried about herself. Instead, she watched the skywing anxiously.

The fish had come out of nowhere, just coming up and attacking Rainy. Spiel had tried to help, but the fish’s tail had struck him and sent clean onto the other side of the river, where he had landed against the struck of a tree with a sickening CRACK noise.

He fell forward. She saw him flinch as he moved his wings, only to fold one and drop the other back into the previous position. He was hurt.

She didn’t have time to ask as the fish sped forward and she had to dive out of the way to keep away from its mouth. Even sharks were less aggressive than this thing!

She gave a loud shout as it again swam towards her. She swam away again, feeling like frightened tuna when someone swam towards a school. She cursed softly from under the water, trying to find some sort of direction as to which side of the river she was closest to, and which side Spiel was one. She needed to get to Spiel. She needed to make sure he was okay.

But as the fish sped after her again and again, she was stuck only swimming away and never gaining her sense of direction. Raging rapids! The ocean was so much easier to figure out than this! Especially with the current, it was hard enough.

She barely broke the surface and glanced around again before she was forced to flee again. But that look was enough to catch one glimpse of the bank.

This time, she dove towards it.

She dodged three more attempts from the fish before she reached the edge of the river, then pulled herself up, whirling around and giving a loud yelp as the fish tried to jump out of the water to get her. Naturally, she jumped a few paces back to keep away from its mouth.

Soon enough, she realized she was still on the wrong side of the river, and Spiel was still where he had been a moment ago, though now he held onto the injured wing with a hand.

Oh no.

“You need to fly to this side!” She shouted, only to receive a shake of his head.

He stretched his hurt wing a second time, only to quickly fold it again with another pained expression. “I- I can’t fly.” He said, looking straight at her with a serious expression. Were those tears in his eyes, or just remnants of the water?

“What’s going on?”

Rainy turned, only to be met face to face with a very mad but worried Dustin, and an equally urgent and ruffled Astil.

She quickly motioned to the fish and the skywing. The fish was now swimming back to Spiel’s side. Spiel didn’t have as much room to go anywhere as her, and flying was out of the question…

“Spiel needs help.” Rainy said quickly. “We were swimming and we were attacked. I think Spiel’s wing is broken or just really badly sprained. He can’t fly.”

Astil and Dustin shared a worried look, but nodded. “Understood.” Astil said with a nod, looking over the scene before her. Her abilities were… off currently. She couldn’t tell the exact possibilities, just the opposite ones. Well… better than nothing…

“Rainy,” She said, not glancing back and instead focusing on a path between the two banks. “Dustin and I will distract the assailant, you swim over and help Spiel get back onto this side.” She ordered. Rainy nodded, just as Dustin’s ears fell.

“Is there a problem?” Astil asked expectantly at Dustin.

Simply put; Yes. He crossed his arms with a small growl. “I don’t do water.” To which Astil sighed.

“Then I suppose you will have to get over it. No one is dying today.” The words struck like daggers. The look she gave him, it was clearly meant to be more than just throwaway words. Of course he’d have to do shit like this…

He gave another growl. “Let me try to do something from shore, earth and all.” He wasn’t even close to a mage what was he thinking?

Still, she seemed satisfied with that answer and nodded, then took a step back and turned toward the river as Rainy prepared to dive in. Astil drew some sort of Rune with one hand, creating a flash of white light. A moment later, a staff appeared in her hand. Silver. Simple.

Huh. Who would’ve thought a startouch would use a weapon in general, but one so simple?

Weird.

“Hey!” Astil shouted suddenly, nodding to Rainy before jumping into the water just as Rainy did. The splash caught the fish’s attention. It turned. Dustin could see the realization in its eyes as it registered that there were easy targets now. It swam forward, first going for Rainy, but Astil struck it in the side with her staff instead, causing the fish to turn towards her.

There was no way even she could handle this alone.

Okay, how did earth mages do this? They drew runes and said words, right?

But he didn’t know words, nor runes…

A few miners could move rocks and stones to find gems, Dustin had watched them do it a few times, and they never used runes…

Wait.

Without constantly being attacked, Rainy found it infinitely easier to get the other side, and sped there, practically jumping onto the shore and coming close to Spiel. “How bad?” She asked, lifting an arm to help him onto his feet.

“Terrible.” He responded, frowning and closing his eyes tight as he tried to show her.

She stopped him with a light hand on the feathers. “It’s alright, I know you’re serious. Okay, look, we need to get to the other side.”

“What about the-“

“Astil has it covered.” She cut him off, sneaking a hand under one arm and around his back, then underneath the other. “You’re going to have to help me swim, probably, but I can get us to the other side. It may hurt, though.”

There was a pause, and he looked scared for a moment, before he shook his head. “No, No, Let’s do it. But I can’t swim still.”

“It’s alright, just kick. Come on.” She led him to the water’s edge, then slowly eased him in.

There wasn’t as big as splash as when she had literally jumped into the water, but it did send ripples throughout the water.

She kicked off, making sure to go slow and to support Spiel. The skywing made soft, hurt noised each time his injured wing moved in the water, but he adjusted to the water and did as she had told him about kicking and nothing else.

Rainy focused solely on Spiel and their path, not realizing that the ripples she sent had grabbed the attention of the fish.

If Astil were any less refined, she would have cursed in that exact moment she realized the fish had seen Rainy and Spiel. Of course…

She swam forward and whacked it again with her staff, receiving a bat from the fish’s tail instead, which she narrowly avoided.

Dear stars, this was getting difficult. She needed to get her abilities back under control.

“Rainy, watch out!” She shouted, as the fish came even nearer to the pair and she struggled to keep up. Why did aquatic beings have to be so fast?

Dustin fell to his knees and sunk his hands into the mud, thinking back to how the other miners did it. They closed their eyes and it just happened.

He sighed and closed his eyes, ears straining to hear the other over his own pounding heart. He had barely become a miner. He was one of the newest members, in fact. And the miners he saw had years of experience…

He heard Rainy give a surprised shout, accompanied by a following wave and a loud “HEY!” from Astil. Things were escalating. He opened his eyes to find the three elves and the fish in the middle of the lake. Rainy was struggling to hold onto Spiel while also fighting alongside Astil to get the fish away, but the attacks weren’t effective. Rainy splashed a large amount of water at the fish, but it did nothing.

Fuck.

“C’mon,” He said, looking back at the ground and shutting his eyes tighter. He had to do this. If something happened, and someone got hurt before they needed to, then Astil would probably think he had forfeited his promise to her. For some reason, that seemed to be what was on his mind the most, not just the worry about his friends not dying at the hands of an ugly fish.

“C’mon.” He said, more forcefully as he opened his eyes and glared at the ground. “What’s your deal? I am trying to make you move! So do it!” He watched a moment longer before his frustration grew. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” The ground, of course, showed no responses what so ever.

He looked up towards the three again, eyes going wide. Spiel was separated from Rainy, and was struggling to swim with one wing, his arms, and his legs. Rainy was trying to reach him, but the fish had her foot in its mouth and no matter how Astil pried with the staff, the giant mouth didn’t budge.

He growled, finally giving in and standing so he could jump in, but froze when he felt something tug on his hands as he lifted them. He found a single vine wrapped around his wrists, holding him in place. When he placed his hands back down, the vine withdrew.

Suddenly, the screaming stopped. More like it was muted. He was confused, but soon that confusion gave way to… Nothing.

He felt tired.

He tried to shake his head, to dispel the feeling, but it held on and forced his eyes closed, stubborn.

So was he.

And so the two stayed, the earthblood and the invisible force, fighting between conscious and unconscious…

Then he felt it.

There was a tremor in the ground. Then another. And another. Slow at first, minimal, then suddenly powerful.

His eyes shot open, astonished.

The earth was moving!

Waves crashed around the trio.

Rainy forced a circle of water around them, preventing the waves from rising over the three elves. The ground shook again.

She give a strained growl as she fought against the raging water and kept the circle, expecting the rumble to die down after a second like the last two times, but it didn't. It continued.

Suddenly, a giant rock platform shot out from the water, directly below where the fish was. It shot the creature up and into the air with enough force to kill. She couldn't help but smile. Ha.

That smile vanished as she looked down and saw another rising platform directly beneath them. Thinking it would be just as harsh, she tried to back away, but the rock extended to match her position.

It lifted slower than the other one, catching them all. Spiel, who had been holding onto Astil, practically fell once the startouch let him go. He was soaking, they all were, but his wings especially looked like they were weighed down heavily by water. As if to prove her point, Spiel tried to move his uninjured wing, only to drop it to the platform a moment later with the other, hurt one.

Astil had lost some of her glitter, but she lifted her head as she got to her feet, then smiled at the earthblood elf on the shore. Even Rainy couldn't help her smile. Still she couldn't help but shout "TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!" to the idiot.

The only response she recieved back was a laugh. Neat.

"Sooo.... What do we do with it?" Spiel asked from his place on a fallen tree, looking over the dead fish on the bank. "Ow, ow," He warned to Rainy, who shrugged with a soft 'sorry' as she wrapped a bandage around his wing. It was definitely broken. That wasn't good at all...

"We could always just push it back into the water." Dustin shrugged.

Rainy growled and threw a twig at the earthblood "Absolutely not. It could get stuck. We'll just have to leave it there. Some other animal can have it." Suddenly she tied something, putting a little too much sudden pressure on the wing. Spiel gave a loud, surprised squawk noise, naturally flapping his other wing to get her to back off. She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry again. Okay, that should hold it into place until we get back to camp and stuff, but it'll work, right?" She looked up at him expectantly.

He couldn't help his own smile as he nodded.

"Are you done wasting time or-" Rainy threw another stick at Dustin as he spoke, but this time the earthblood came prepared and ducked out of the way. Spiel's eyes widened as the stick went straight for Astil, only for the startouch to reach up and catch it.

Even she seemed surprised as she looked at the stick in her hand. The light frown that had been adorning her face ever since they got out of the water suddenly changed into a bright smile. She stared at the stcik a moment longer, then smirked and said something in Dustin's ear, then promptly stepped back as Dustin himself smirked.

Yeah, no, not risking whatever they had planned. He fell behind the tree, only peaking over as Rainy looked back at Dustin, only for the ground to shake and knock the oceanmist to the ground, right into a pile of sticks.

"Hey-Ah!" She yelped as she fell, then growled once she realized what he had done. Spiel practically fell over laughing as Rainy suddenly got to her feet and began chasing the earthblood with eyes ready for the kill.

Even Astil looked amused, but there was... something else there too.. Something sad hid behind her smile...

What was wrong?

Finally.

The auction was finally over.

Gray released a sigh and prepared a bag of coins. Fifty... Not great, but in exchange for knowledge on who these strangers were? It would be worth it.

With a hum, he closed the bag and found his way to the area beside the stage, where the exchanges were being made. He waited until he and ste strangers were the last one there, then cleared his throat as he stepped forward. The shorter one seemed to light up as he saw the other. "There he is." He said to the taller, who gve a hum and followed. He was the one holding the weapon, but he was carrying it to be presented, not to be used. Good. "Fifty, right?" The smaller asked as Gray closed the distance as well.

Gray put on his kindest seeming smile. "Yes, indeed." He offered the bag, and the shorter stranger took it, while the taller handed over the dagger. It looked.. Smaller than Gray had been expecting. The grip was a thinner, as if it was made for one less finger. Like an elf's. He hid a grin as he looked it over again, closer. Thin lines danced over the silver of the blade, and upon an even further inspection than that, he realized that the dagger was, in fact, elven in make. His suspicion rose as the gears turned in his head. Again he was reminded of the ladybug in his pocket. He sighed. Not now. "I do have a few more questions about the blade if you are willing-"

Both 'men' had different responses at the exact same time. While the shorter happily said "Of course!" The other answered with "Absolutely not." Gray quirked an eyebrow at the pair. So many odd things.

"Well why not?" He asked the taller curiously and with a chuckle.

The smaller, in that moment Gray decided to call him Sunshine, looked at the taller, whom Gray opted to call Mystery and asked "Yeah, why not?"

Mystery went silent, before giving a scoffing sound and waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Three. No more."

Gray sighed, but nodded. Three questions. What could he accomplish with three questions?

Well... Perhaps he could find out if these two truly are what they seem to be...

"Where did you get this dagger?" He asked, looking it over and pretending not to see the way sunshine practically beamed.

"Actually, I made- Ow!"

Sunshine was cut off by a jab to the ribs by Mystery, who explained "We found it in an abandoned elven village by the border." Obviously a cover up... You would think possible elves would be smarter about their word choices.

Still, Gray nodded. So sunshine had made it. Which meant sunshine must be a smith. That idea filled Gray with excitement, actually. An elven smith. A sunfire smith even. And so soon after the last sunfire died. Not to mention that he had never had a sunfire smith before, only soldiers and an occasional mage. Smiths were far more rare, and infinitely more powerful in Gray's opinion. Especially with the ante unitum.. Now was the perfect time!

He paused when the two strangers shared an uneasy glance. Or, well, more precisely sunshine looked at Mystery and Mystery's lips tightened into a line. Gray cleared his throat, picking another question. "So it is elven?" He asked expectantly, receiving a hum and a nod from sunshine. Good. Now for the final test to see if sunshine was, in fact, a smith. Blacksmiths and Sunfire's alike were very prideful, so a sunfire smith should be double, correct? So if his creation were insulted... Gray gave a hum, fixing his attention to a spot on the blade where an odd scratch was placed. "It looks relatively bland to me."

A beat. Gray had to fight off a smirk as the pleasant smile slowly changed to the absolutely most offended look Gray had ever seen on anyone.

"Bland?" The sunfire asked. Then again, "Bland? That dagger is made with pure Xadian steel and polished with oils only found in-"

So he was, in fact, the creator. Mystery gave a growl, then roughly grabbed the sunfire's arm and began pulling him away. "That is enough." He said, even as Sunshine tried to keep himself planted in his spot.

"Do you have any idea how long it took to-" As Mystery dragged the yelling sunfire around the corner, a bit of sunshine's hood moved, revealing a circular, thorny mark on his cheek with the same tell-tale yellow as any other sunfire elf. There was no room for doubt now. This stranger was a sunfire elf. And what about Mystery? He certainly couldn't be sunfire, too cautious... But perhaps... Perhaps a moonshadow, judging by his wardrobe and quieter, more cautious attitude.

He expected a backlash for stealing the Unitum, of course, but this? This was better than he imagined.

He stalked away, finding an alley to hide in before he pulled out the ladybug as before. He laid it flat in his palm, then lit it on fire, letting the small thing turn to ash.  

"Meht wollof." He said, then tossed the ash into the air and watched as a slick black ladybug with red spots took to the sky, following the same path Sunshine and Mystery had taken moments before.

He chuckled, already thinking of the possibilities these two elves could provide. A sunfire smith and what was likely a moonshadow assassin. The possibilities were endless.

"I do so hope we meet again, sunshine."