#but i was too augh to make myself some tea | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

violettelueur · 4 years ago

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GOJO SATORU || BECOME A REAL COUPLE

| featuring : gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors other than that n/a

| form : imagine (with she/her pronouns)

| word count : 2700

| published : 05 december

| request : Hi hiiii!! I saw that your requests were open again :) I would like to order a black coffee please! a fake dating → feelings realisation where (fem) reader is from one of the big 3 clans and is pressured into finding a SO by her clan. So Gojo offers to fake date her; meeting her parents etc. Only for them both to realise that they ended up falling for each other. Would love to see how you determine the way they handle it and confess for real. Thank you!! Love all your work so far x

| barista’s notes : can i be completely honest with you? this little piece isn’t really my best ʕ ﾟ ● ﾟʔ even though it’s only been 2 days but i already feel like my writing skills have disappeared ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but other than that, thank you so much for loving all my work ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ i really hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please come again soon!

“You have to get married soon Y/N! You’re 27 and we have no heir for the Kamo clan!”

“Didn’t I leave the clan 10 years ago? There is no way I’m going to listen to someone like you nor my child is forced to become a jujutsu sorcerer, and what makes this more irritating is that you came all the way to my workplace to tell me this,” you snapped back at the man in front of you, before turning around trying to walk away from the situation. However, it seemed like the old man wasn’t going to give in to the situation or to the rejection of your answer, he was stubborn - just like you were, after all, that was the only thing you inherited from that man.

“Y/N! I am your father and I demand you to listen to me!”

“Shut up!” you shouted before turning to look over your shoulder. The man that stood there pride and arrogance running through his veins - something that you didn’t inherit, fortunately. There was no way you could call this man your father. The same ‘father’ that criticized you for not having the same blood manipulation like the rest of the family - well that’s what he gets for being with a woman from a different clan that had a different curse technique that you inherited - an outcast, that was what you were within the Kamo clan, yet they still demanded you to get married and have a child to keep the lineage going. There was no way in hell you were going to follow their rules.

“What a disgusting father you are, no wonder mother left you,” you commented with a smirk before continuing to walk away to go back to where you were heading. On the other hand, it seemed like someone else wanted to disturb your plans.

“Y/N~”

ꕥ

At this current moment in time, you were standing in front of one of the very few vending machines that were located within Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College wondering what you were going to choose since you were still undecided. Cold Water? Milk tea? Coffee? Maybe a carbonated fruit drink to satisfy your sweet tooth? You weren’t so sure.

“Have you put money in the machine yet honey~?” someone asked you from behind, causing you to quickly turn around to see a tall white-haired figure standing before you with a teasing smile painted upon his face.

“Satoru? Ah...no I haven’t” you muttered as you scratched your cheek with your finger, trying to occupy yourself with something to not look at him. “Let me pay for you then,” Gojo then offered as he reached over to the side, accidentally brushing his arm - causing you to tense up - before he placed some of his coins within the slot to add some currency into the machine before you could even deny his offer.

“I could pay for myself you know, and we’re alone, you don’t have to act,” you stated before sighing in defeat, as you turned back around to decide what you were going to choose once again. “I know,” Gojo commented back to you before gently placing his chin upon your shoulder, leading you to tense up once again from the physical contact before slowing relaxing, “but what type of boyfriend would be I if I didn’t treat you a little?”.

‘Well fake boyfriend Satoru’

ꕥ

“Your family pressuring you again?” Satoru cheerfully asked as he walked beside you, trying to lighten up the tense atmosphere from the conversation that you had with your ‘father’ just a few seconds ago.

“More like the Kamo clan than the L/N clan, get married this, get married that. Is that all I am good for? Marriage? Augh, I just need them to leave me alone, I left for a damn reason,” you ranted as you put your hands in your pockets, restraining yourself from punching something to let out some steam.

“How about I date you then?” Gojo suddenly asked, leading you to look at him with the most wide-eyed expression like he had just said something completely stupid - to which he did - but before you could even augre what he just stated, Gojo quickly began to explain what he meant by his little statement. “What I mean is let’s fake that we’re dating, we deceive everyone that we’re together and the Kamo clan will finally leave you alone once they realise that you are in a relationship with someone from the Gojo clan aka me, they can’t augre with that,”.

Still looking at your colleague with a dumbfounded expression, you turned your head to look in front of you before thinking about what he had just suggested. What Gojo stated to you was somewhat a clever idea. The Kamos family was obsessed with bloodlines and for you to be with Gojo means that they would foolishly believe they can become more powerful. Even though you didn’t physically inherit the blood manipulation curse technique, you still had in somewhere in your veins due to your father meaning they would believe they still have a chance for a powerful heir. However, that would mean you have to announce this to the clan as well as your mother’s clan - which wasn’t much of an issue for her side - it was just too much effort for a fake relationship.

“Satoru that is so much effort, you’re going to have to meet the Kamo clan then,” you commented, after realising the pros and cons of this little ordeal. “I know, but once we end this little fakery of a relationship, they don’t have to know, you don’t have to report your every move to them, remember you left,” Gojo explained back, leading to any worries that you had manifesting to instantly fade away with the wind.

Taking one last sigh, you turned back to him and nodded. “Fine, let’s fake date Satoru,” you finally declared before taking your hand out in front of him for a handshake, leading to the powerful shaman to take hold of your hand before firmly shaking it, “okay fake-girlfriend! Leave it to me,”

ꕥ

Sitting in front of your dad across a table was something you never wished on your worst enemy, you hated that you were back in the four walls that you had escaped from many years ago. However, for some odd reason, when Gojo was by your side, you felt completely safe.

“Since when did this little association between the both of you come to play?” your father asked in a suspicious tone as he eyed both you and Gojo - yet, knowing how greedy your father was for power, you could tell he was delighted at the fact you were ‘together’ with the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer.

“Ah~ We have been together since our last year at Jujutsu Tech,” Gojo explained as he turned to look at you with a cheeky smile on his face to which you smiled back at him, trying to keep up with the facade of being a fake couple. “And you didn’t inform me this Y/N?” your father then asked to which then you explained, “well, I did leave the clan a year after that, so I had the right to no inform you. After all, I’m not your daughter like you stated beforehand,”

Angered by your sudden statement, your father immediately slammed his hand on the desk as if the statement wasn’t true at all. “I demanded you to come back, I demanded you to respect the name of the Kamo Clan and this is how you taint it,” you father roared in fury, causing Gojo to put an arm out in front of you as if he was protecting you from anything that could happen to cause you to look at him in shock.

“Technically, Y/N didn’t even taint your name, she took their mother’s, so you’re in the wrong here, don’t do something that you will regret,” Gojo sinisterly threatened the man that was in front of both on you, before taking your hand in his as a way to comfort you - surprising you once again from his actions, yet for some reason, you gripped on his hand somewhat conveying him that you were thankful for him standing up for you.

ꕥ

“Ah Miss Y/N, did you come to see your mother?” a maid asked in a surprised tone, once she noticed that you came out of your designated room with you adjusting your red obi sash around your waist as your wore your family’s kimono, white was light in colour embroidered with the minimalist design of flowers and butterflies - giving you a somewhat soft feminine look, contrasting the portrayal of your character somewhat.

“You know you don’t have to put the ‘Miss’ in front of my name, and I do apologise for the sudden visit, I forgot to inform you all,” you told the maid with a gentle smile, leading to the maid to smile at you back before you then continued with, “Ah, I did come to meet my mother, but have you seen Satoru? Like a tall man with white hair, who is also wearing sunglasses,”. However, before the maid could answer your question.

“Y/N~”

Turning around, you found Gojo walking towards you with your mother by his side, causing you to freeze in shock as you didn’t expect him to go to your mother without you. “I thought we agreed to greet my mother together Satoru,” you commented as you pointed your index finger at him to emphasise your point, only for him to smile at you cheekily before scanning his eyes up and down at your new outfit. “You do look beautiful in your kimono though, is this what you wear when you come back home?” Gojo then asked, to which you nodded at his question - trying to ignore your pending blush being slowly painted in your cheeks - before you quickly greeted your mother, who was watching from the sideline.

“Good Afternoon mom, I apologise for coming to visit you so suddenly,” you said to her, to which your mother softly smiled at you before cupping your cheeks in her hands. “There is no need to apologise, I’m happy that you came back home since you are so busy back at the school, but also I’m happy that your boyfriend introduced himself to me, he is quite a different character must I say,” she commented with a light laugh, causing you to turn to him wondering what he had said to her, only for him to put up a peace sign as if that would answer your wondering thoughts. Although, before you could even vocalise your confusion, your mother linked her arms with yours before guiding you down the corridor to welcome you home.

“I can tell he really cares about you Y/N,” your mother stated, causing you to look at her with a perplexed expression to which she then smiled back at you before beckoning Gojo to follow the both of you to invite him for some sweets and tea that were being prepared.

‘If only you knew mom, if you only knew how much I care about him as well even though this isn’t real’

ꕥ

“You’ve been staring at the canned latte for some time, do you want that one?”

Suddenly, you instantly snapped out of your thoughts - not realising that you were in a daze - causing you to then immediately click on the button indicating on the mentioned drink. “Ah, sorry I was just wondering if I should go with the strong or light one,” you then answered, trying to hide the fact you were looking back on the moments that you had with Gojo.

“Are you okay?” Gojo then asked as he removed his chin from your shoulder, letting you crouch down to grab the coffee from the dispenser before collecting the coins from the other dispenser to give back to Gojo, only for him to shake his hand and say, “if you need another drink, you can use it,”

‘Is that why he put extra in?’

“Are you sure?” you quietly ask, only for the cheeky shaman to nod his head before he deciding to walk with you to wherever you were heading off too. “Like I said before, what type of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t spoil you a bit?” Gojo then asked once again, causing you to tilt your head in confusion.

“You know we’re not really dating right? We are a fake couple,” you mentioned, as you opened the can of coffee to take a sip after reminding him about the little plan that the both of you came up with to avoid the whole ‘marriage’ drama from the Kamo clan.

However, you didn’t hear an answer from your friend. Only pure silence surrounded the both of you, causing you to be perplexed on why you didn’t instantly hear a sassy comment back from the shaman, leading you to pause and turn your head to the side, only to see the man look at you dead in the eyes with his crystal blue ones.

‘Since when did he?’

“What if I don’t wanna be a fake boyfriend anymore?” Gojo questioned you with an uncharacteristic serious tone, causing you to look at him in bewilderment before quickly coming to the conclusion that he was probably teasing you.

“You mean you want to end this facade? If you want we can, there is kind of no point in continuing this little act,” you replied, as you took a sip of the caffeinated drink causing you to gain a little bit of energy in a short amount of time.

“Y/N, I’m being serious, I don’t want to be your fake-boyfriend anymore, I want this to be real,” Gojo then declared, causing you to suddenly choke on the liquid in shock before letting out a coughing fit as you tried to clear your throat leading to Gojo patting your back to help you out.

“Ha?” you then expressed, not sure on how to react to his declaration as you tried to look for any deception in his eyes. “Oh you are being serious Satoru,” you then commented to which then he nodded as if he didn’t already convince you that he hadn’t already.

Quickly looking away from the man, you were trying to hide the rose hues that slowly was coming upon your face. You thought you were the only one feeling this way. You thought you were alone on this. Ever since that moment when you and Gojo met your father, you always wanted to stay by his side, you felt like you were important, you felt safe, you felt warm.

It was like what your mother explained to you when you were young, ‘don’t make the same mistake as me Y/N, when you find someone you want to be with, make sure they make you feel safe and protect and not just the ‘butterflies in your stomach feeling’, I want you to feel loved and important, I’m so sorry for putting you through this’

“Y/N, come on say something, I’m not a nervous guy but this is something else you know,” Gojo pleaded as he wasn’t really enjoying the long silence that was going on around both you and him, only for you to suddenly grip his dark blue jacket before pulling him closer to press your face upon his chest as if you were still trying to hide but somewhat trying to express some confidence in what you were planning to do.

“Are you absolutely being serious ?” you then asked, once again asking how serious he was being.

“Absolutely serious,” Gojo then replied as he placed his large hand on the top of your head before caressing your hair, trying to comfort you from your embarrassment.

“Then I don’t wanna be your fake girlfriend anymore….please,” you then murmured as you gripped his jacket more tightly as you confessed your long time thoughts, only to suddenly feel a peck being placed on the crown of your head.

“Of course honey~ let’s become a real couple”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru imagines

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undead-merman · 2 years ago

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barging in here to say i was excited for the basilisk reader ask aND YOU DID NOT!!! DISAPPOINT!!! it was SO fun to read through!! hhhHh that delicious yandere fix,,

it is,,, kinda fun to be the monster sometimes. who doesn't want to be!!! a snake!! at some point! they are so pretty and good! anyways loved the various situations naga!reader is found in like augh!!

following luci around?? like an annoying puppy he doesn't bother to shake off and then okay you're kinda cute with how you bring him fish like a cat presenting him with a dead mouse and oh my god someone hurt you he's gonna kill them - AUGH! so good!!

satan being like?? a collector? and you're a lovely specimen he's lured in??? and he has like intrusive thoughts about taking advantage of your helplessness,,, but ofc he reads with you and feeds you like a proper pet owner should

barbatos!!! is the one who plays into the helplessness the best (although they all do it really nicely),,, he's accustomed to serving, but you need him to serve you, and he's so attracted to that,, also him having you taste teas, which you can taste/smell better bc blind? fabulous little detail, love it!

(you don't have to like skjlfkgdh answer/post this ask bc it talks about your patreon posts ofc im just more comfortable yelling at ppl in their ask boxes)

Elsey you are too fucking sweet, you know that? Lucifer and Satan I kind of wanted to switch but I wanted to not have them so predictable I guess? Like, I get it Satan is wrath but he can be more than that. Plus I'm a sucker for Yanderes that are 'collectors' and want you as part of it.

looking back I am kicking myself for not making Lucifer a bit more intense but having a soft man isn't that bad every once in awhile. Also Barbatos isn't really lying he's just not telling you the truth. I feel like he'd find it funny that you think you're some terrifying monster when you're really just a clumsy spinny snake in his eyes.

This is making me really want to do a new project, but I've taken so long setting up the last one. Do I give that one up a bit more for new fun ideas? or should I try to stick with it? Tough call.

Also big man Edgar is making it hard to type since he demands to sleep in my hand at all times and he will wake up if I put him down he will scream at me.

#elsey pal #undead talks

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ziracona · 3 years ago

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[FGO AU -- The Kid (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, ?)

“…Still nothing?” Her hands are perfectly still, muscles tensed and brow furrowed with all the concentration I ever seen on any mage, but, I think she can tell the answer before I give her a sympathetic smile. “AUGH,” she exclaims, flinging herself back unhappily into her seat, “Why! I’m trying my hardest! I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong!”

The mage folds over like a camp chair and deflates with unhappy sounds, sliding back against her own seat.

“Hey, come on now,” I try reassuringly, “It’s not so bad. I don’t know any magic at all, but pretty much all skills take more than an hour to come together.”

She lets out another long sigh and blows some hair out of her face, then straightens up a little. “Yeah, I know,” she admits, “But it’s not like I only tried today. Actually, I’ve…been trying to practice it like all week. So I’d be ready…”

Whoa.

I…guess I shouldn’t be surprised—I keep underestimating her, and her level of plannin’. She strikes me as impulsive, and she is—to the core—but, she’s smart too, and reasonable. Knows how it works, and thinks, just, goes for the long shots anyway. It’s a combination of traits I both like and can relate to.

“Still,” I offer, “You ain’t got a teacher, ‘n mage stuff’s complicated to learn.” She still looks incredibly down, but she nods as she stares vacantly through the bed past me. “…’Sides,” I add, “That medicine you gave me’s helpin’ a lot already—I’m feelin quite a bit better. And you don’t need to worry about havin’ to heal me, sooner or later. I’m getting’ a steady supply of mana from you, even if it’s slow, so my spirit core’s rebuildin’. It’s just gonna take it a little time. It won’t be like a real—human—bullet wound would be to heal.”

“Really?” she asks, perking up immediately.

“…Yeah.” I’m kinda surprised she didn’t know that. Girl seems to have a roulette-wheel of a library about my kind in her head. “At this pace, I should be back on my feet by mornin’.” Crap, it is morning. I forgot. I give the blinds a glance. “Or, --I mean a few hours.”

“That fast?” she asks, eyes widening.

I shrug, which hurts. Ow. Why…do I keep doing that? OW. DAMN it, Bill. When I’m not moving, I forget how much the entire left side of my chest is in agony when I do. “Not back to normal, but, on my feet,” I manage with my teeth clenched, trying not to let on how much that hurt.

She nods, thinking that over. “Can I do anything to help speed it up?”

I still can’t get used to that.

Kid’s so….fervent, and sincere. And nice to me. I’ve been awake for maybe an hour with her now, and I’m still not remotely used to it.

I refocus quick, and give her a smile. “Not more than you already have.”

“I could get you more food,” she suggests eagerly.

That’s probably true, actually, and I could use it. Just. “…Well, if you got some,” I stutter out. I am not used to feeling flustered, but I am realizing quick I am even less used to people bein nice to me. The odd heroic spirit maybe, but humans? Feels totally off now. Like I’ve snuck in somewhere I’m not supposed to be.

Happy, the kid snags her tray, but before she can leave I say, “—Actually though, uh, --before you go—I’m realizin spectacularly late here you still haven’t told me your name.”

She freezes with her hand on the tray and her face turns red. “CRAP, YOU’RE RIGHT!” the mage whips around to face me and gives a distressed bow. “I’m so sorry—I can’t believe—”

“—I-It’s fine, really,” I assure her, “Just you got me at a little bit of a disadvantage right now-”

“—Right! I-I’m sorry. I totally forgot! I’m Ritsuka Fujimaru,” she says, offering me a hand. It takes me a second to get she wants me to shake it, and I awkwardly do.

“Ritsuka Fujimaru,” I echo, “Well, you already know my name, but seein’ as I got several to pick from, Billy’s good. –Oh, uhm—you got a name you prefer me to call you?”

“Uh.” She gives me a glazed stare like someone looking at an oncoming train. “My…friends in high school called me ‘Gudako’ sometimes.”

I stare right back and forget to take back my hand from our handshake. Damn!! “…Your friends weren’t too nice, huh?” I offer sympathetically.

Her face turns crimson and she gives me a look saying she was praying and expecting that I wouldn’t know what that meant and is crying on the inside that I do, and I feel real bad for her that we spirits get such decent language translation built into us on summon. “No,” she offers in a tiny, beaten voice, staring past me.

It’s real hard not to grin, but I beat the impulse down internally with a shovel and give a sympathetic smile instead. “Well, I really just meant ‘do you prefer ‘Ritsuka’ or ‘Fujimaru’,’” She turns a deeper shade and I see her wish for death a little. “But if it’s any consolation, I would definitely not describe you as boring.”

The kid finally looks me in the eye again, a bit like a kicked dog, but she smiles back after a second and seems to bounce back with it. We both remember we’re still holding hands then and let go.

“Well, thank you,” she says like she means that, “I guess I’m not this week anyway.”

“Hardly,” I agree with a smile.

She returns it and takes the tray and goes back into the kitchenette I gotta assume is back there somewhere, and I get another second to think alone.

I’m doin’ better—a lot, I think. So far I think I’ve been up something close to an hour. All this is very strange to me, and it’s not been a great couple of months, but I’m feelin’ less and less dead by the minute, and the answer to ‘does pain medication work on Heroic Spirits’ seems to be a solid ‘yes’—which—considerin alcohol still does and I knew that, in retrospect shouldn’t be such a surprise to me. A glad one though, for sure. Still.

What now? That’s the real question.

Kid says she just wants to help, and at this point I mostly believe that. There’s usually a catch somewhere down the line, but maybe not. I do think at the least she thinks she means it right now. …And…and. I wish that was all I had to worry about. But, the less pain I feel, the clearer I’m starting to think, and either way, she’s right; I can’t just go back to the throne, or I’ll get resummoned. I’m stuck here like this, tied to her right now. But I can’t stay here indefinitely, and neither can she—actually, come to think of it, if they got any kind of security at that workshop, she might be in danger now, for breaking me out. Mages are…known for their ruthlessness. There could be people already on the way to deal with her. Okay. Better find that out, and fast.

Then, third and last on the list of things for me to figure out and deal with is those mages themselves. And that’s the big one. I’m not the only one of us that’s gonna happen to, if it ain’t already happened to more of us, and I can’t leave the place like that. If they have more spirits already, I need to break them out. And either way, I need to destroy that research and probably the people in charge, so they don’t just rebuild, or they absolutely will. And fast. Not sure this new master is just gonna let me go on a wild murder tear either, though, no matter my motives. Which is a problem…

She’s back then, though, so I’m out of time to focus.

“More okayu, plus some chocolate, if you’re feeling good enough,” she offers hopefully, setting her tray back down, “and I brought you some tea too.”

See that’s the problem, I think mournfully at the sight, I can’t do nothin’, but I can’t just betray her after this either, even if I got a good reason! No one’s ever been this good to me—I can’t just go lie to her and then pull a bunch of bloodshed on her dime—even if she don’t sign off on it, she’ll find out, and she’ll feel responsible, and she’s a kid, I’ll have done that to her! I don’t wanna give some kid who saved me a bunch of guilt trauma! After all this? …Hell. I… But I can’t do nothin’ –I can’t. I got friends in the Throne, and even if I didn’t, I ain’t about to allow that to keep on goin’. We don’t deserve that; it ain’t right. But if I tell her what I got in mind, she might use a command spell and bind me, so. …But still. I can’t… I can’t…do either, but. …Maybe I could convince her to absolve the contract, and get it done after that and before I vanish, just, once I got more strength? I got my Independent Action that could keep me goin’ for a little—even Gunner, I got a lot of my Archer traits, so, once I’m healed, it might be enough to get- …No. Ain’t enough. She’d still see what happened, and know the only reason I got it done was her. Same problem as before. Shit. Shit, this sucks… I’ll be doing somethin terrible no matter what, then…

And I know myself. And that the thing I’m eventually gonna do is not leave that place standin’ with people like me trapped dyin’ inside it. As much regret and guilt as that’s gonna buy me too…

“What?”

I glance up, and she’s got her head cocked. I gotta stop bein’ an open book here. Let me think…

“About Ur-shanabi,” I start hesitantly, “Master, did—”

Her expression changes drastically to distress and she immediately cuts me off. “—Oh, please don’t call me that.”

I forgot I even said it, so it takes me a second to get what she means. “’Master’?”

“Please?” she says again, “I know you’re supposed to, and I’m supposed to call you my servant, but I really hate that.”

Everything else I’ve been thinkin’ about just kinda shuts off and I stare at her, blink. … Y…yeah, me too. Always…

“You’re all heroes, or famous artists, or explorers, or fighters, and we’re just mages. –I mean, even if it was different, I’m pretty sure I’d still hate it,” she continues with a sigh, somewhere deep in thought in her own head, but she comes back and meets my gaze, “But please don’t. I don’t want you to have to think of me that way either. I guess I don’t know how this all usually works in a lot of detail, and I know you’re stuck bound to me right now, but I don’t want you to worry I’m gonna try to make you obey me. I won’t! That’s not why I helped you!” She looks so intense. Leaned forward, one palm on the bed, look on her face that makes me believe she means it. “I want you to know I’m never gonna do that; I mean it. I won’t ever use a command spell on you to make you do something you don’t want to do, I promise.”

Her eyes are amber and bright like coals and full of intent. I find it impossible to look away.

“Not ever. I don’t want to try to use you or control you; I. …I’m…really just trying to help…” She finishes, pulling back once she’s made her statement and looking just a little embarrassed only now it’s done.

“…Well, good,” I finally find my voice, “Because I’ve never been much for the Master-Servant thing anyway. Can’t ever seem to stick to it, and it tends to cause problems down the road.”

She smiles back, happy with my answer and that I’ve accepted her proposal.

Some kind of a mage... This is…almost too much to really even understand right now, but I think she…meant it. She thinks she did. I’m beginin to think calling her a mage at all was plain off. She’s somethin’ else. I always think the kid’s thrown me for about as many loops as she can, and then I get knocked down again, and it’s been less than a day. Don’t bode well and really does for me at the same time.

“’Boss’ then?” I suggest, but I can instantly sense her dislike.

“’Partner?’” she counters hopefully.

That does have a much better ring to it, I gotta say. “Partner,” I concede with a wink, “If you’re sure that’s what you want.”

Never had a master that wanted me to un-know my place before.

“Well, you could also call me ‘Ritsuka’,” she says hopefully and then immediately becomes embarrassed. “Uhm,” she hurries, glancing away when I grin at her, “A-And you’re sure you prefer ‘Billy’? Not Henry?”

Lord it’s been a while since anyone called me that. Sends me a long, long way back. And not really in a good way. I appreciate the thought though.

“No,” I reply.

She seems surprised a little, but I can tell she’s not gonna press me, so, there’s really no reason to say this, but for some reason I want to tell her.

“That’s my middle name, actually,” I say.

“Huh?” says the girl.

“Henry,” I clarify, “Middle name. It’s William Henry McCarty, actually.”

Her brow furrows. “…But I thought…?”

“Step-dad had the same name, and it was too many for one household, so mine got shortened,” I gloss over, “Took it back when I picked my own name on the lamb.”

“So. …You outlaw-named yourself … ‘Your Name The Hot One’?”

It’s my turn to suffer nickname shame, though I’m not too ashamed of that, because it’s pretty funny. Does suckerpunch me a little to get called on it more than 100 years later.

“…I-I don’t know…” I answer automatically before thinking of what to say, “Maybe. …yeah.”

She almost chokes on a laugh. I grin.

“I mean, if you got the opportunity—wouldn’t you? I’m just sayin,” I say casually, past the slight amount of embarrassment I felt and pretty proud of myself again. It was a slick name.

“It’s got flair,” she says approvingly.

“Thank you,” I reply.

“So, what were you gonna ask—before I interrupted you?” she asks, picking up the cup of tea and offering it to me. I take it, feeling immense guilt as our hands touch for a second and I’m stuck thinkin about all the things she’s done for me for no reason other than bein’ kind, and the fact I’m definitely going to turn on that and her, and how awful that is.

I…wonder if it would make things some kind of right if I came back and let her kill me after? No. No, that’d make it worse. Mage or not, I don’t think this kid’s ever hurt anyone. I don’t know what I can do to soften taking this kind of kindness and drawing blood with it, but…

“Ur-shanabi,” I say quietly, working hard to pass off my internal distress as distraction as I hold the little clay cup and feel the warmth. It smells good. I know I have to drink it, and I’ll feel physically better, but everything nice I accept is piling on guilt.

…I wish. I wish I had a choice here, but I can’t let them keep this goin’. I wish I knew a way to make that right, or at least explain to you I’m sorry. And everything she says and does just makes this worse! I don’t want to hurt her. I really don’t. In any other situation, I wouldn’t, but I have to, and I hate it. I don’t want to betray her. I don’t want to make her regret showing me kindness. I don’t want her to feel the way it feels to not do something cold but safe, and then get shot for it.

Hot water slips over the top of my hand and I jerk back and just spill more of the tea, sucking in a sharp breath at the unexpected pain.

“Whoa! –Are you okay?” she asks worriedly, passing me a napkin and leaning over to catch onto my hand and help steady the cup and what’s left inside it, “What happened? Are you feeling worse again?”

Hell! My hands are shaking and I can’t quite get them to stop. Calm down. You don’t gotta do anything right now. You can feel bad later. Just think a second.

“Nah—s-sorry,” I manage, trying to smile at her and not quite sure how well I do, “I uh—I guess I’m just still a little weaker than I thought. I’m fine now.”

“Here,” she says, brow all scrunched up in concern, taking back the tea and passing me the ice pack to set on my hand.

I hate this. I’m terrible. It ain’t fair—it ain’t wrong for me to go back, I gotta, but. I hate this. I hate it.

I take the pack and try to look grateful. “Thanks.”

“Sorry about your hand,” she says.

I wave it off. “It’s already done hurting.”

“…” She waits a second, leaned a little forward expectantly, and I forget what for until she prompts me again. “What? About Ur-shanabi?”

“Oh,” I say. Right. “I was gonna ask how much you know about their operation. –How you even ended up in the right place at all.”

“Oh,” she says, and she loses some color.

Huh?

“Uhm,” she glances away, then back, and seems more herself, but I’m not sure I buy it this time. I don’t think she’s lyin’, per-se, but there’s something else she’s not saying. “Well. I’m from a mage family, but, not a ‘mage’ family—we know about magic, I did—growing up. But, I didn’t ever get any formal training, or anything. So I guess it was more like mage-adjacent in a lot of ways. There was this test I heard about from a friend—a research project on magical circuits, and I was curious.” She glances down at her legs again, but this time she looks far away and almost happy, like she’s revisiting a better moment in her head. “I’d always been curious about myself and magic, and I was excited, because if you participated in the research project, you got to know stuff they found out about your magical circuits—stuff you might be good at.” She glances up at me and gives me an embarrassed smile. “It sounded really cool. I had wanted to know for so long, and I thought—I still think—it would be really great to learn how to do more magic. So, I went.”

The girl—nope—Ritsuka, thinks for a second, then holds out her hand and looks at it. “Apparently I’ve got really unusual circuits.”

“Unusual?” I echo, kind of intrigued. I know jack-all about magic, but I am curious.

She glances over and nods. “Yeah. I thought I did really badly in the study, because I didn’t know any real spells at all, and everyone else did. They pulled me aside after and I thought they were just going to kick me out before we even got results, but, apparently my circuits were so unusual they wanted to do a case study. I’ve got ‘Almost no practical control or ability to utilize them, but possess a nearly inhuman amount of mana.’”

“Really?” I ask. I can’t feel that at all. I’m getting enough to keep me sustained, sure, but that’s it.

“I know, right?” she agrees, nodding and leaning forward, “That’s what I said! But apparently I do. They asked me if I’d come in to do more studies, and I said yes, because I was also curious. And that was Ur-shanabi. I’ve been going there for a while now,” she adds, then stops, gives me a guilty look, then looks away and keeps going in an almost dejected tone. “Uh. But I worked, or, was allowed in, I guess, a totally different part of the building. You were up on the 12th floor. I was on the 4th, R&D testing labs.”

“Oh,” I say, very confused by this reaction from her, and a little concerned by it too if I’m honest, “What brought you up to the 12th?”

“The mage I met with the most was named Nakata. He worked in a lot of projects more important than mine too. I think that was maybe the only time I was ever on the 12th floor,” she answers, “That day, I showed up and waited for a couple hours, and he never showed up in R&D. There were other people who wanted to use the room we usually used for another test, so I asked if I should go home, and the secretary said yes, but I bumped into Dr. Nakata in the elevator on my way out. He said he’d been swamped by a last-minute schedule change, and still wanted to do our test, but he’d be maybe another hour, and that I should just wait for him by his office. Which, is on the 12th floor. I was just standing there, and this big group of mages went into a large room at the end of the hall, so I was curious and watched them, and.” She shrugs.

Yeah, I can fill in the rest.

“I guess you don’t know a lot about what they were doing with me, then,” I say, a little disappointed. Any new information would have been useful. I don’t know that I expected another answer, though.

“…Actually, yes,” says Ritsuka, looking uncomfortable. I glance at her in surprise and she looks flustered and guilty and glances away again. “Uhm. After I saw you, I asked Dr. Nakata what was going on up here, and who you were.”

You coulda been killed, I think in a frozen kind of horror. What were you thinking?

“He told me,” she says simply, “You were a heroic spirit, and they were doing tests on things you could do using them. He even told me what the test was.”

I don’t know what to think or how to feel about that, so I just listen. I wonder why on earth he’d tell her?

She glances up and holds my gaze this time, an undercurrent of almost…incensed feeling somewhere deep in her eyes. “He said they had found a way to keep a summoned spirit away from the throne for a long time at low mana cost, and instead use the connection to their Saint Graph and essence as a fixed unit outside of time now, to generate a potentially limitless source of energy. To…make a heroic spirit into a battery.” I can tell while the rest of it was her echoing, the last statement is her own, and she’s bitter. “I asked how, and he told me,” she continues, “He said you had to trap one right between life and death, so they would give as little presence as possible to anything looking, and wouldn’t find a way to escape or retaliate on their own, but couldn’t actually vanish either. ‘An art and a science, to find the perfect thread to stop at, and keep them in place on the edge of death.’ Stuck. In pain, and too weak to fight back, but here.”

She lets out a long sigh and glances at me and says, “I said that sounded awful, and what about the spirits, and he told me a lot of stuff about heroic spirits being familiars that are meant to serve mankind in whatever way they’re summoned for, no matter how painful, and aren’t people anymore and that’s their intended use.”

Ow. I mean, it’s not new; I hear this from mages all the time, but it’s never fun to hear one say it right to your face. Fuckin mages…

“But, I think he could tell I didn’t like it, even though I was a little scared by then and trying not to seem as much like it,” she continues, glancing down at her hands, “And he told me ‘Don’t trouble yourself. You’re new to this, but it’s a normal part of being a mage. If it helps you rest easier, the one we summoned was Billy the Kid, an outlaw and a murderer from the old American west,’ a-and. That…” her voice gets quieter, like suddenly she thinks maybe she shouldn’t have said any of this, “…I could think of it as divine punishment, in a way. And not have to feel bad.”

…

That. It really shouldn’t bother me to hear. People always act like that to me. Even when I was alive. I think about being sent to hang for a murder I didn’t commit for a moment. I had so many murders on my record by the end of it, but I’ve never pulled a trigger that wasn’t in self-defense or a last resort. But it’s never mattered. You are what people make of you, in the public eye, and in history I guess, no matter what the truth is. And eventually that tends to push you to an ending written about the person you’re described as. I never thought of any of the fights I was in as murder. I guess it’s been a long time since I could even pretend that mattered to anyone but me, though.

…I still hate it.

It hurts. Not so much people sayin’ that—don’t care too much what people think; I know who I am. But, the fact that it just straight up don’t matter what’s true, at all. Even a little… I could have lived a completely different life and not been remembered as any worse at all.

“He thought I’d agree with that.” Her voice is angry. I glance back up, train of thought broken, and Ritsuka looks as mad as she sounded, somewhere else in her head too. It’s a quiet, deep anger. “I didn’t.”

There’s something about how she looks, like she’s an embodiment of what she’s saying, and again it becomes hard to look away if I’d wanted.

“He was wrong. I guess there are some people who deserve to die,” she continues, “I’ve thought about that. About if I think if…if someone killed my family or something, I’d want them to have to die too for it. If I think that’s fair, and right. But. …Even if some people probably deserve to die, nobody deserves to be just kept in pain forever. Even the worst people. I don’t know how anyone could think after more than a day anybody at all could possibly know it’s right to go on hurting someone. Not even the worst person.” She looks distressed by that for a moment, then glances back at me and smiles a little. “I decided that, and that I was going to try to do something, and then I went home and looked you up, and you didn’t even sound that bad.” Her eyes go big immediately and she looks mortified. “—Wait—That sounded bad! I’m sorry! I-I said that wrong. I—I meant—I didn’t—I just mean—he’d said—uh—a-and you didn’t sound like—it seemed like you weren’t so—like stuff went wrong for you more than you were a bad person actually, a-and you didn’t seem like you were really a murderer—"

The poor kid is sweating buckets now. I think she thinks she’ll have offended me sayin’ that, but it’s very much the opposite.

“—I should stop talking. I’m sorry. I-I just—uhm. You were different sounding than I thought before I looked you up is the only thing I was trying to say—I’m so sorry I don’t know why I said any of it at all!” She gives up and hunches over apologetically in shame.

“…I ain’t mad,” I try to assure her after a second.

Ritsuka glances up between her bangs and gives me a sorrowful, worried look.

“…I…think I actually appreciate that,” I continue after a second, figuring it out as I go and then giving her a smile, “I ain’t sure what you read about me, or how true it was, but I’ll take what goodwill I can get.” She raises her head a little more, but still looks worried, so I keep going. “Ain’t offended me—I get it. You were already thinkin of doin’ something dangerous. Gotta know what you’re in for best you can, with a heroic spirit. Only smart to try’n be prepared.”

Looking a little better, she cautiously un-hunches. “Yeah. …I really didn’t mean to say it how I did, though. I don’t think you’re bad! I mean, I know I don’t know you, but I-”

I hold up a hand. I feel like after all this, I really oughta let her off the hook.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say with a sure smile, “You don’t gotta explain yourself, or tell me what you thought, or what you think now. I don’t have to know. I’m aware you’re takin’ a risk on me, especially with my kind of record, and I appreciate it. Probably ain’t easy for you.”

Shit, haven’t thought about that before, but it’s true. Kid might have command seals, but I’m quick, and she’s not experienced. Pretty much any heroic spirit she summoned that wanted to could kill her easy. She didn’t think to use one immediately to order me to not. I’ve been so strung out and nervous of her, I haven’t thought for a second about the fact she’s probably scared of me.

“…Uhm. In light of that, Ma- Partner,” I correct, “I’d like to set a few things straight for you, if you don’t mind?”

She seems to recover a little, straightens up and gives me a very serious nod.

“If you’re worried about me, don’t be. Whatever you heard, truth is I never killed anybody except when it was them or me, or I was defendin’ someone else. I never was a fan of it, either. Only crimes I ever set out to commit were thefts, mostly outa need,” I say, “Where I grew up, once you had a reputation, that was all you had left. I stole food when I was on my own at sixteen, and there weren’t no turning back after that. ‘Bout that simple.”

The gal’s listening attentively, head cocked. Takin this serious. And I’m still thinkin over how this has probably been for her. Angering a group of powerful mages is scary enough. Now she’s contracted to an outlaw spirit, and she’s apparently a mage who’s got no real practice usin spells. She’s basically just a civilian. She’s all alone here too, and somethin like sixteen or seventeen, and she’s got no real idea what I’m gonna be like, or want, or do. I’m not in great shape, but I’m still a heroic spirit, and a lot more powerful than her, and I’ve killed people. That’s a pretty good reason to be scared. I don’t want her to be, though. At all.

“I know all you got’s my word on this,” I say, working hard to convey my sincerity, “But it is the truth. More importantly, you saved my life, and I owe you. I really am grateful. I got no plans to try and hurt you; I promise—you got nothing to worry about.”

FUCK. What I’ve just said hits me like a ton of bricks. Fuck, I should’ve phrased that differently!—no no no—damn it damn it; I should have thought about it first! Hell! I am gonna hurt her! Probably. Not physically, which is what I was thinkin’ about when I said that, and meant, but it’s not technically what I said, shit shit shit, I just promised her something I’m gonna break—oh great, and I must have some amount of that showin’ on my face because she actually does look nervous now. I lied and I actually made her more afraid of me. Great job! Damn it damn it damn it.

“I’m really not the kind of person to do that,” I add quickly, trying hard to save it. This is bad this is bad. “I wouldn’t have a reason to anyway, but you definitely don’t gotta worry about me—” Everything I am thinking to say is wrong. All of it. ‘turning on you’ – a lie. ‘repaying that by making you sorry’ – a bigger lie. Shit. And I feel like it now too, more than before. I’m the worst—I’m terrible. I know I don’t have an alternative, and I have to go back, but this is awful, and I feel very appropriate amounts of guilt about it. I deserve this. “attacking you or something,” I go with, even though it sounds weird in my ears, because I don’t want to outright lie again, and even this much is making me feel miserable. “after you’ve been good to me.”

I hate this. I hate myself. Maybe. …Maybe there’s another way, maybe I can… Can…

She smiles for a moment, happy I said that I think, then slowly looks worried. “You look worried.”

Oh. I guess I’m the one who looks worried.

I…

I can’t. There’s nothing I can do to work this out better than it’s gonna be. I just. …I just…

…Fuck it.

“I am,” I say honestly, turning my head to look at her. She’s so sincere, and so worried. She’s been so good to me. I just. … I just… “I’m worried about Ur-shanabi,” I say, so sure I’m going to regret this in seconds, but doing it anyway because of some deep inherent flaw in who I am, “I’m okay right now, but I figure with me gone, they’ll just take another one of us and do the same thing. If they haven’t already.”

I watch slow horror creep over her face as that clicks. “…I. Would…? Oh. They will. And it’ll be my fault.” she says, glazed-over expression on her face.

What? “No!” I say immediately, “That it’s someone else and not me? It ain’t your fault. It’s theirs—they’re the only ones doin’ it, aren’t they?”

She comes back to herself a little and looks at me, but her face is still drained of color.

“It won’t be your fault,” I say again, “That’s ridiculous, and you know it. …They will keep doin’ it, though. Probably to more and more of us, if they can. Probably they’ll sell the idea to other mages too.” I hesitate, give myself one last solid chance to reconsider this, and don’t. Just pray for luck. I’ve gotten a lot of it the last 24 hours—maybe I have a pinch left. “…Unless I find a way to go back and stop them pretty fast. It’s that, or this is gonna keep happening to us. And it’s only gonna get worse. …I got friends, in the throne. …I don’t want that to happen to any of them. Even for the ones I don’t know, even the ones I don’t like, it’s like you said: nobody deserves that. So. I think. …I gotta go back.”

Her eyes are huge and I can see her running what this means, trying to process it all. I’m praying she’ll agree with me, but it’s such a long shot to get from an idealistic teen.

“Please!” I try, going for the best pitch I can before she decides to force me not to, “I-I know you’ve met those people, and I’m askin’ a lot, but at least think about it. You helped me because you knew what they were doing was wrong—I know it too, and I’m the only one in a position to shut it down. I can’t do nothing, and this is the only way to end it. You don’t know what it’s like. We-“ I’m getting to desperate, and I know it, but I hold up a hand and plow on because so long as I keep talking, she isn’t, and I don’t know what else to try. “—Our bodies are pretty close to what they were before; we feel pain the same, we can just survive more of it. I-I’m lucky, I got shot—I’ve known spirits who were bled to death, or hung, or burned, or decapitated—you can’t imagine what it would be like to be stuck chained down forever with your head just not quite severed all the way enough to kill you. I know it’s not your fight, and it’s not fair for me to ask this, but I have to try and stop them. And I—can’t. Without an anchor. Please...”

Maybe this won’t be a terrible idea. Maybe it won’t backfire on me immediately. Maybe she’ll let me go. Maybe she’ll understand. Maybe I won’t have to—

For a moment, she stares at me, motionless. Then her eyes well up.

Damn it. Damn it; I knew! I knew she’d feel like she had to stop me, and I showed her my hand because I felt bad, and now promise or no, she—

“I’m so sorry…” she whispers, and I’m fully expecting the threat of a command spell to follow that, but instead she tucks her knees up to her chest and folds over into a little ball and starts crying again.

I don’t…rightly know what to do about that, so for a second I just stare at her like an idiot.

“I know it was bad,” I hear muffled and choked up from the little bundle she’s made herself into, “I. I don’t—don’t know how awful it was, I know, but I know it was—I know it was so bad. And it’s my fault it was you.”

What?

“You have to go back?” she asks pleadingly, looking up at me for a second from over her knees, like she’s asking me if I gotta go die in a war, “What if they catch you and put you back where you were? O-or kill you and just summon you into a trap again? I’ll never get back in if—”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘your fault’?” I ask, still stuck on that and very lost again. So much so she’s halfway through her next paragraph before I even clock that me potentially getting trapped again is the only thing she has immediately objected to.

Ritsuka looks at me with her big, tearful eyes, then looks defeatedly at her knees. “…I. One day, several months ago, I showed up for a research day and Doctor Nakata had these boxes on the table, and a bunch of papers.” The kid looks and sounds completely miserable, and exhausted. “I didn’t know what any of it was, so I asked him. He said it was for another project, and to just wait a few minutes while he packed it up. …And then he changed his mind, and said actually, would I come over? He told me they were deciding between a few candidates for a project, and at this point it didn’t really matter which one they started with, and would I like to pick one. I asked what the project was, and he said it was a secret. But, it looked so important, and cool, and I wanted to be involved, so I said yes please, and I went up and picked. I didn’t know what they were.”

Ritsuka grimaces and looks sadder, rests her chin on her knees and exhales slowly. “No, I think I did. I just didn’t know what they were for. I could sense they were all magical, and they were all odd, and specific. An old little clay vase. A shuriken. An earring. A coin. A letter. And a photograph.”

I stare. She makes herself look up at me, and I can see how sorry she feels. “I picked the photograph.”

Ah.

“He even told me later,” she adds quietly, all the spunk gone, “That I picked you. When I asked, after seeing—”

“Good.”

She looks up quickly, surprised.

“I appreciate you feelin’ bad for me,” I continue sympathetically, “But it ain’t your fault, what happened to me. You didn’t know what was goin’ on, and if it hadn’t been me, it’d have just been someone else. Luck of the draw; just how life happens. On top of that, they’d have gone after every one of us on that list eventually, and if I hadn’t been here and now with you, I might not have ever gotten out.” It’s true, and I give her a smile. “Also, this whole thing is a pretty big relief.”

“A relief?” she echoes, confused.

I nod. “You get summoned with a catalyst, ain’t much you can do but show up, like it or not, but I wanted to answer the call when I got it. Up till now I thought my sixth sense had plain stopped workin’ or something. I guess it was actually just because I thought I was answerin’ your call.”

She looks confused for a moment, then smiles slowly. “…Really?”

I give a little head tilt. “Best I can guess.” I honestly don’t know if a summon can work that way at all, but I’d like to think so, and why not? Makes us both feel better.

I meet her gaze and try and get her to smile back, and this time it works.

“I really am sorry,” she says, “even if you’re not mad.”

“Well thank you,” I say, accepting the apology, “But consider it behind us.”

Something she said earlier that I had running in the back of my head comes through hard, and I feel the bottom of my stomach drop out.

“…You said a coin?” I ask, really, really, really hoping my gut feeling is wrong for once.

She nods, catching my expression and getting sympathetically worried along with me.

“…Was it kinda silver, with a face on one side, and a short cross and some words on the back?” I ask.

“Uh. I only saw one side, but it did have a face,” she says nervously.

“Was there a scratch across it? Deep? Diagonal on the face?”

“Yeah,” she says, surprised, “How did you know? What is it?”

Oh no. Oh shit that’s bad. Okay. Okay, this is gonna be okay. I can figure this out. He might not even be here yet, and I can snag the coin and he’ll be fine. All this means for sure is that I have to figure this out, more than before now.

“A friend,” I answer when I remember I need to, “—a catalyst to summon one, I mean.”

“Oh,” she says in a voice like I feel.

For a moment, we look at each other in silence. I got no idea what she’s thinking, but my mind’s far away and frantic, trying to piece together some kind of plan.

“…What do we do?” she asks.

“Huh?”

“You said you gotta go back in,” says Ritsuka as I refocus on her, and I can see she’s come to some kind of decision, “And need me to help, and now you know they’re gonna hurt your friend unless we can stop them. I’ll help you, but I don’t know how. How do we go back and stop them?”

I gape.

“…You…want to help me?”

She gives a nod, looking confused that I’d ask her.

“You-? I mean—it might. …I might have to…shoot someone,” I say. Wow. Great job Billy you sure did sugar coat that and make it sound real fine. Nicely done.

Her eyes widen, and she glances away, hesitates. Then says slowly, “…But if we don’t, they’ll keep torturing heroic spirits for energy.” Working through it herself.

“That’s about it,” I agree sympathetically. It…can’t be easy for her. She’s a civilian, a kid. And she seems like a bleedin’ heart who doesn’t want to hurt anyone. She’s already been a lot more understanding towards my perspective than I expected.

“…So it’ll be bad either way,” she says finally, looking back and meeting my gaze.

I’m kind of taken aback that she’s put it into almost the same words I did to myself, but I nod.

“…That sucks,” she says to herself sadly.

“Yeah,” I agree quietly, looking at my own knees and thinking it over.

“…Is there a way to do it without killing anyone?” she asks after a second, hopeful.

Probably not. Even if I destroyed the whole building, there’s the people in charge who know how to do it, and can and will rebuild. I think she can see that on my face, because her expression falls.

“I…don’t know for sure,” I answer, “But. I think…probably not. … They’d rebuild. –Not all of them—not all of them would know how, but, at least a few will.”

She stares off at nothing, thinking.

I feel worse, somehow. Thought I was doing the nicer thing, basically giving her a chance to stop me, and risking my success. But. Now I think maybe I’ve accidentally been more heartless.

She shouldn’t have to carry a choice like this. Life ain’t fair, and I know that, but I’m finding I like being on the giving end of that even less than the receiving.

“…How old are you?”

The mage turns and looks at me, surprised, and flushes a little. “…I. S-seventeen?”

“Yeah?” I ask.

She nods.

Seventeen. She’s about the age I was when my life started really fallin apart. I hate being a part of that for someone else. I don’t want to.

“You don’t have to have anything to do with it,” I offer quietly, “You could dissolve our contract. Fifty-fifty chance I get the job done before I vanish, fifty—”

“—No!” she cuts in adamantly before I’m even halfway through my pitch, “No way! You’d get trapped there again! That’d be even worse! I made a deal with you to protect you if you trusted me! I’m not just gonna abandon you now.”

I blink. Tilt my head, taken aback by her fervor.

Did you? Is that what the contract was to her? I try to recall her words. ‘My soul becomes your will; your spirit becomes my destiny.’ Right, she said that wrong. But what I want to remember is before that. I try hard. “Please—If you die, they’ll summon you back! I-I can ground you! I can keep you here!” I can’t see much in the image in my head, but I can hear it, I can feel it—the pain and her hand on mine.

…I guess she did.

I don’t know how to respond to that. Look down at my own hand, playing it again in my head.

The kid is thinking still, her brow furrowed with worry. Taps the edge of the little bedside table agitatedly with a finger. “…So. Either we find a way to destroy their research, and get any other spirits they have out, and…maybe fight some of the people in charge,” she says finally, “…or they keep on doing this to you all, forever. There’s no other way things can go? You’re sure?”

I’ve already thought about it, but she’s so sincere and sad I think again, and then nod.

She sees that and glances at her hands and then back at me. “Then. …I guess we have to go back and stop them. You’re right.”

I stare at her. A-are you serious? Even as such a bleeding heart, you really—?

“But nobody gets hurt that doesn’t have to, okay?” she adds fervently, “And. I-I want to try to talk to the people in charge first! I know they won’t change their minds and it’s probably a waste, but.”

“—We can try,” I agree readily, overcome with relief, “Are you sure, though? You don’t have to stay contracted to me, and you sure as hell don’t have to come. You—you’ve already taken a lot of risks for me, big ones, and I know I’m basically returnin that favor by involving you in bloodshed. I don’t want to do that.”

It’s her turn to look surprised, and she blinks and tilts her head right back at me, and for some reason it makes me feel a whole lot better and a whole lot worse at the same time. But also more like I understand her.

“You’re not doing anything to me,” she says simply, “They’re the ones doing something that has to be stopped. It’s not your fault you’re the one who knows about it.”

I…guess that’s true. Feel like I’m getting my own words thrown back at me; maybe I am.

“It sucks,” she adds, “And I’m scared. I don’t want to hurt anybody, or get anyone else hurt. But. Mom and Dad always said it’s just as bad to stand by and let somebody be hurt as it is to hurt them yourself, if you could have done something about it. So. I want to help you, and I will.”

“You’re sure?” I ask again, “It’s…it’s a whole lot, and it ain’t gonna be easy, or safe, and you’re—” If I say ‘a kid’ I think she’s gonna get offended because I would have when I was seventeen. “Young. It shouldn’t be on you to fix.”

“Well, you’re young too,” she says.

Ow. I’m twenty-one. I know I’m short, but at least I’m an adult.

“And you’re mostly dead, so let’s just agree it’s unfair for both of us, but we’re partners, and someone has to do it, and we’re here, so that’s us,” she says very diplomatically.

I give up and sigh, then offer her a hand. “If you’re sure, Partner.”

She takes my hand and shakes it.

“So, what can I do?” she asks as she lets go.

“Well, anything you know about the building’s layout’ll help, and what defenses they might have. Mostly, I just need to get back to fighting shape,” I answer.

She nods. “Food, then?”

I give in again and smile. “Thanks.”

#fate grand order AU #fate series #fate fic #writing #billy the kid #ritsuka fujimaru #fate go #The Kid #The Kid (fic)#I wish I had as much time as my heart wants for writing :'-]#'Gudako' basically means 'boring girl'. and Billy called himself William Bonney which is Irish for 'William Attractive' more or less so they #deserve to both be roasted but in the most loving way possible also Ritsuka my dear I'm so sorry your friends suck

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toothpastecanyon · 4 years ago

Text

Noie’s Friends, Chapter 1

A collection of oneshots about Noie's years at college.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

Finding out your brother’s a demon was both more and less surprising than Noie expected. She didn’t anticipate how quickly everything would settle back into a routine; before she knew it, she was finding herself going to the tea shop with her friends, and hanging out with Dipper in her dorm whenever Val wasn’t home - or outside if she was. It felt just like before, only with Dipper right there with her instead of chatting through a screen.

Just like before. Just like before.

She never saw his eyes flicker. She never saw his wings. Sometimes he’d excuse himself to the bathroom for an hour, or disappear when Val burst through the door, but any hint that he was something more than Dipper Argenta was always tucked away behind a door, behind a nervous laugh and a change of the subject, out of sight, out of mind. It was surprising, how much he still hid from her.

Noie… didn’t know how to tell him it was okay. Part of her was a little relieved he was still keeping it under wraps; with remembering came old memories, old nightmares of a shadowy figure bursting from her brother and lunging for her, reaching in and ripping out… she’d never tell Dipper how many times she woke up sweating from those.

And then, to have that same shadow in her room, putting his wing around her, being her brother?

Look. Noie so badly wanted to say she’d be okay with it. She wanted more than anything in the world to tell Dipper he didn’t have to pretend to go to the bathroom to answer a summons. And maybe if Dipper hadn’t started pretending again, she’d have gotten used to it by now and it wouldn’t be a problem.

But she didn’t want to be wrong. She didn’t want to say it was okay and then see Alcor and not be okay and… hurt him. She didn’t want to hurt him, okay?

So maybe it was better, like this.

No surprises.

______________________________________________________________

“Boo. Hey, Silver.”

Things were winding down. Gus and Mina had already left the tea shop a while back, Jess had gone to the bathroom, and Mako was on his phone in the corner. The fading sun outside lent a warm, sleepy air to the whole scene; until Bea bumped her shoulder, Noie was feeling about ready to nod off.

“Silver.”

“Yeah?” She rubbed her eyes. “What’s, uh, up?”

“Just got a text from my roommate. AC’s busted.”

“What? Oh…” She looked outside. “Well, at least the sun’s gone down.”

“Nah, he just got home, he says it’s a million degrees in there.” With an enterprising grin, Bea slung an arm around her shoulder. “Lucky I got a friend to take me in for the night, eh?”

“Huh? Me?”

“That would be correct!”

“Wait, I just have one bed-”

“I’ll sleep on the floor. Trust me, I spent my childhood sleeping on elven barkrests, I’ll be fine.”

“Barkrests?”

“Have I never told you about those things?” She chuckled. “That’s a story for tonight. When I’m sleeping at your place. It’s happening, right?”

“Uh… I’ve never had someone stay overnight before.” Noie made a face. “I guess it’d be fine? Yeah… yeah, it’d be fun!”

“That’s the spirit! Now c’mon, let’s get it on!”

They walked out of the tea shop together. Noie nervously pointed the way, and flashed a smile at Bea as she followed along. Bea raised an eyebrow.

“What’s up with you, Silver?”

“Wh-what?”

“You look like I’ve put a gun to your head.” She slowed. “You know I can find somewhere else to stay, ri-”

“No! No, it’s okay! It’s good!”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah, no, I’m excited!” Noie barked a laugh. “I just - I don’t know how this works.”

“What’s ‘this’? Walking? Breathing? Existing?” Bea gave a crooked smile. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

She laughed again at that… and then trailed off. They walked in silence for a little bit, and at some point the streetlamps turned on. Noie wondered if she wanted to say something more, wanted to mention that this was the first time she’d ever had a sleepover - ever had a friend who’d want to sleep over, actually, and wow, that was kind of sad. That’d bring down the mood.

She thought of that, and then cleared her throat. Opened her mouth.

“Jeez, there’s so many crickets out,” Noie said. “I’ve never actually seen a cricket. I’ve only heard them. They’re like ghosts, heh.”

“Man, you’re not missing out. They’re ugly fuckers - one jumped on my face once.”

“Haha, what?”

“Yeah. Let me tell you, everyone thinks it’s so awesome to be an elf and to be all ‘living with nature’ and shit, but this is what they don’t think about: all animals wanna be around you. All animals.”

“Oh. That sucks.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Silver.”

They walked on for a while, chatting as the sun strayed down. Only a dull glow remained as they made their way to the front door; Noie swiped her keycard, and motioned her inside.

“Thank-ye kindly.” Bea glanced around at the stairs branching off from the entrance hall. “Where do we go now? Up, down?”

“Down this one.”

“Ah, they shoved you in the basement.”

Noie snorted. “It’s not too bad. There’s still a little window. My roommate says- Oh shit, Val!”

“Strange thing she says.”

“I should- I hope she’s okay with this, I should’ve asked her, or…”

“Ah, don’t worry too much about it.” Bea slung an arm around her, kept her walking down the halls. “Best lesson you’ll ever learn, Silver: don’t ask permission, ask forgiveness.”

“That’s not- I don’t like that. I don’t think that’s a great lesson, actually.”

“Well sure, you gotta know to use it in the right context. Isn’t your roomie the one who doesn’t clean up her shit and makes you do it?”

Noie was fumbling for her keys. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“Then she’s been asking for a looot of forgivenesses. Let’s say she owes you this one.”

They were approaching Noie’s room. She fished her key out of her bag, and shot Bea a look as she unlocked it.

“Okay… I’m still gonna text her, though.”

“Good, I wasn’t sayin’ you shouldn’t.” Bea strode through the open door as Noie got out her phone. “Aww, look at this place! I didn’t know they made apartments smaller than mine - oh, hey Val. It’s Val, right?”

Val? Noie glanced up from her phone. She was never home this early - was she here? She hurried into the room after Bea, and came across…

Oh.

Dipper was sitting at her computer, an expression of pure shock on his face at the sight of someone other than her. He was going to be a little harder to explain.

“Or, uh, some other name?” Bea asked, and chuckled awkwardly at the ensuing silence. “Any other name?”

“This is Dipper,” Noie cut in. “He’s my brother.”

“Oh, he’s visiting again? Sweet, it’s great to meet you, man. She’s told me a lot about you.”

Bea gave Dipper an easy smile, but Noie noticed how he didn’t return it at all. It wasn’t shock anymore; a different expression had shadowed his features, one that sent a shiver down her spine.

After just a split second too long, he smiled widely, too widely, and rose from his chair. Stuck out his hand.

“Hello,” he said, and narrowed his eyes when she took his hand. “Went right in for the handshake, huh?”

“Yeah? You offered it to me-”

“Beatrice, right?” He kept shaking. “Beatrice Delion. Nice name you’ve got this time round.”

“Do you know me from somewhere?”

“You could say that.”

“I could say that, I could say anything.” Bea bared her smile. “I asked you a question, though.”

“A question you already knew the answer to.”

“A question you could’ve really just answered like a normal fucking pers- augh!”

“Dipper!” Noie yanked Bea’s hand out of his grip. “What was that for?”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t look at her; he stared past her, to Bea cradling her fingers, with a strange gleam in his eyes Noie could only describe as… predatory. Her heart caught in her throat, and she tried to shove him towards the bathroom.

“Hey, why don’t you, uh, take a breather, bro?” She nudged, then elbowed, then pushed, but he wouldn’t move. “Seems like you two got off on the wrong foot.”

“He got off on the wrong foot, you mean.” Bea chuckled; there was an edge to it. “And here I was thinking you’d be a cool guy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Means that you’re acting like an asshole, man! Take notes, that’s how you answer a question!”

“How-”

“Dipper.” Noie grabbed his arm, and finally he looked at her. “Go to the bathroom.”

“Fine. Come with me, I have to-”

“No. You go to the bathroom, okay?”

“Naomi-”

“Go.”

Dipper glared at her, and for one terrifying moment, Noie thought he wasn’t going to leave. Finally, he turned around, and with a low but rumbling growl, he stalked out of the room.

A growl. The sound turned her blood to ice, and she stood there frozen until Bea put a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, not to push an issue or anything, but he’s not staying here tonight, right?”

“What? Oh…” Noie hesitated. “No, he, uh… he has a hotel room.”

“Sweet, ‘cause I wasn’t gonna stay a night with him. Prick.”

She cringed. “Bea, I, I’m so sorry. That wasn’t okay of him at all, I-I don’t even know what-”

“Don’t even stress it, Silver. Trust me, I don’t care. I know how to handle his type.”

Noie felt something at that. It came down on her like a dark cloud, a watchful eye… a presence. Bea gave her a squeeze, and grinned.

“Now, let’s do something fun together, eh? What does the great Silver like to do on her time off?”

“O-on my time off?”

“I assume you don’t stand there waiting for the sun to rise, but that’s not for me to judge.”

“Oh, heh, no…” Noie glanced behind her, and then cleared her throat. “I mean, I don’t do too much, I’m usually on my computer… I dunno, I read, I guess. What about you?”

“Whaddya read?” Bea sifted through the titles on her shelf. “Heh, ‘Rainbow Adventures of Mr McStabberson’? Where’ve I heard that one before?”

“You’ve probably seen the TV show. Did you know it actually started from a book?”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I actually only read the source material pretty recently.” She sat down in her chair. “It’s interesting, actually. I think they’re both kinda good in different ways? Like there’s definitely more about some of the side characters in the book, like Alexy and-” She blinked. “Oh, sorry, I’m rambling. Have you seen the show?”

“Nope.” Bea leaned against the wall, grinning. “I wanna hear about it, though.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah. Keep going, Silver.”

Noie smiled at that, and launched back into her explanation. For a little while as she talked, the thought of Dipper’s odd behaviour and the presence had entirely slipped her mind.

“-so it was really cool how they expanded on her character in the book. Obviously books aren’t really strapped for time like TV shows are so I get why they dropped some of the smaller character moments, but I think it’s cool to watch the show again with those in mind.” Noie laughed a little. “If you ever wanted to watch it.”

“Hey, seems like some cool new human shit. Wanna watch it right now?”

“Wh- really? I don’t think I can stream it anymore-”

“It’ll be pirated somewhere.” Bea sat down at her computer. “Seriously, I can’t believe you guys’d pay to watch it when there’s a free version floating out there.”

“I dunno, viruses?” She raised an eyebrow at Bea. “You know where to go, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Cool. Well, I guess, if I really wanted something, I’d ask…”

Dipper. Noie made a face at that; it must have been pretty obvious, because Bea looked over at her and gave a wry smile.

“Your brother’s the tech savvy one, eh?”

“Tech savvy? Uh, sure… you could say that.”

“I see you’re a fan of that phrase too.”

“Wha- oh! Oh, sorry-”

“Ah, don’t you worry about it. I’m teasing you! I’m teasing.” Bea sat back in her chair, chuckling a little as her smile faded. Her eyes, fixed on the computer screen, suddenly flitted up to meet hers. “You said he’s got classes up at SASU, right.”

“Dipper?”

“No, a squirrel. Of course I meant Dipper.”

“Oh, heh, sorry.” Noie fiddled with the front of her shirt; this was getting into some dicey territory. “Yeah, he, uh, takes online courses, mostly?”

“I see, I see.”

“Yeah… so he can come up and visit a lot. That’s why. That’s why he can do that, I mean.”

Bea was nodding. “I see. So he’s here a lot of the time with you, huh.”

There was a strange tension to the air, building the more she spoke. Noie found herself shivering a little, though she wasn’t cold.

“Yeah! Yeah, he is.” She leaned forwards with her widest smile. “So, how are we-”

“Does he act like that a lot?”

A sudden spike. The walls felt closer, and the lights felt starker. Bea’s carefully blank expression suddenly had an air of menace, of danger to it, and Noie leaned back.

“L-like what?”

“You know what.” Bea said, and sighed. “Look, I’m not trying to corner you in anything. I’m just wondering how happy you are with a brother who comes around and acts like that around your friends, y’know?”

Noie felt a pit in her stomach. “Wh- oh, oh no, Bea… you have the wrong idea, okay?”

“Okay.”

“He’s not usually like that, I swear. Like, genuinely, he’s not, I’m gonna talk to him about that later, I…”

“Okay. Seriously, it’s okay. You know your brother better than me.” Bea stretched, slowly, deliberately. “Just wanted to say, you better talk to him about this weird eavesdropping enchantment he’s got going on, too.”

Eavesdropping enchantment. It was like the air froze in place, and Bea gave a wry smile at her wince.

“That’s the one. Bet you barkskin he’ll come through that door any moment-”

The door burst open like an explosion; it made her flinch. She hardly recognised the figure who stormed into the room, pointing fingers, yelling, “I am ņot̶ eavesdropping!”

(and was that the hint of an echo to his voice?)

“I mean, I’d love to agree, but you’re really just proving yourself wrong by barging in-”

“I did not!” He planted himself between Bea and Noie, and stabbed a finger in her face. “I’m here to protect my sister. What are you doing here? What are your intentions?”

Bea raised her eyebrows. “My intentions? Getting somewhere to sleep. Sorry if you were expecting me to say murder, I guess I’m not in the mood.”

“You watch what you’re saying. You have no idea what you’re up against.”

“Oh-hoh, is that a threat?” She chuckled. “Look, human, I get you were top of your magic class in highschool or whatever, but you and your - eh, half -decent - eavesdropping charm aren’t gonna do squat against me.”

Noie could practically see the fury emanating off of her brother. She tried to tug at his sleeve, but it was like he’d stopped paying attention. He was wound up tight, and stone cold to the touch.

“Just walk away, man. Your sister doesn’t want your stupid fucking ‘protection’ bullshit.”

Noie shook her head at her. “Bea-”

“Why don’t you try listening to what she wants?” Bea leaned back in her chair. “You know, if you care about her or whatever.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Noie felt it like a physical pain; she recoiled as Dipper stepped forwards.

“I car͜e ab̛o̵u͝t my̢ si̡şt̷er.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why don’t you prove i-”

And in the blink of an eye, Alcor the Dreambender had her by the throat. Noie watched in horror as his shadowy form snarled and slammed her against the wall so hard it cracked; in a millisecond Bea’s face went from shock to anger to eyes-bugged-out terror.

“M̞͈I̛͕̤̟̹̞Z͎̠A̳̭̪͙͖Ŗ̸̩̮̤͈̭͈ ҉҉̼̺͙̰I̞͔͍͚͕͕͢S̸̞̤͙̜̖͝ ̺̗̘M̥̥͈̬͓͟I͏̤̮N̪͈̺̥̗̘͘͟ͅͅE. M̶̸̦̹͖̜̣̳̤͘ͅI̧̛̼̟͉̞N̴̜͢E. ” He pressed harder, and she struggled for air. “Ḭ̸̺̺̫̟̦̲͇͉ ̥͇̯̣͕S͝͏͓̼E̻̺̲̼E̢̻ ҉̨͚̞̖W̖̘͝Ḩ̢̭̙̰̼̺̮̜A̩͚͓͉͔̤ͅͅT͖͖̩ ̞̗̭̰͓̫̰͍͠Y̳̙͝O̧̨͕͙͕͇͝ͅU̮̺̰͟ͅ'̥̪̣͙R̘̙͇̼ͅE̛͇ ̲͖D͇̖Ǫ͇̮̳̭̫̖͔̼̕I̦͙̫̭̭̯N̶̥̳̖̤̬̱͈͝G̳̳̩̝͠, ̴͇͉͇͖̼͍̰̠̕B̸I̢L̺̰͟Ļ͇͔̺͔̘̝ͅ Ç̬̗̤͕̜I̶̛͖̗̝͙P̸̛̭͔̖͓͎͍͎̦̤͡H̛͚̦̻͉̦͇͝E̲̤̹͓͠R̤̺̬̳̭. I҉̶̲̼ͅ ̝̖͠Ṣ̴̩̩̲͜͞ͅE͏͏̸͓̥͙̲̟̮̤̙͓E̝͠ ҉͈̱Y̧̫̳͖͙͔O̵̩̤̲U͉̬̣̺'̜̼̹͘͟R̘̠̻͡͠E̵̖͇̣̠̦̩̹̹̻̠̫̥͝ͅͅ T͕R͖̩͓̘̪̙͞͞ͅY̡͉̳͖̙͔̺̬̫͟I̴̘̞̮͜͠N̶͓G͙͉̼͎̰͕͘͟ ͞͝͏̖T̷̛͕̞̰̟̥̥͖͍O͚̙̰̞̟̙͡ ̙̫͍̜͓ T̛̻̲̭U̧͇̣̻̭̠ͅR̟̖͠ͅN̞͚̠̝͙͚̠̼ ̵̛̫̗̗͕͜H̴̷̛̱̖̥̤̼̲̤E̩̰͉̪̠͟ͅŖ̻̗̻͔͡ͅ ̱̖A̵̫̻̘̭͕̘̩͢G̤A҉̳͈I̧̤͍̹̰̖̩̩͙͠N̼S̨̘̩̪̜͎̖̭T͙͚ ̷͠͏̩̱̖̳M̸̡̞̻̥͎͓͙E̶̫͕̘!̘̹̘͢”

Noie could barely comprehend what she was seeing. Bea shot her a terrified look and she tried to speak up… but nothing came out. She tried again.

“Di… Dipper…”

Bea was going red in the face. Noie picked up something from the desk - her phone.

“Dipper, stop. Dipper.” She clenched it with a shaking fist, “Dipper, STOP!”

And threw it as hard as she could at the back of his head. It shattered off of his shoulder, and he looked to her with the glowing eyes she saw in her nightmares - oh, stars, oh stars, oh stars…

“Y-you’re killing her, Dipper. You’re killing her!” Noie struggled to look him in the eye. “She didn’t do anything wrong, I-I don’t know why you’re acting this way! Just let her go!”

“Mi̶̛͜za̴r-”

“Please! Please, j-just let her go.”

Alcor the Dreambender stood there for one moment longer, one awful moment longer with the sound of Bea kicking against the wall as she struggled for air. Then he blinked, and stepped back. He let her crumple to the ground, and Noie could feel his eyes on her as she dove to her friend’s side.

“Bea, I-I’m so sorry, are you okay!?”

She tried to rasp out some answer, but it was lost in a coughing fit.

“Oh, my stars. Oh my stars.” Noie felt for her phone. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna call for someone-”

“No…” Bea put her hand out. “I…” she managed, and coughed as she sat up. “I’ll be…”

“No, lie down-”

“Like hell I’m ly-y-ing here.” She pushed Noie aside and staggered to her feet. “Not with…”

She pointed at Alcor as she made for the door. Noie could hardly look at him; he stood still as she followed Bea out of the room.

“Hey, wait! Bea!”

Bea glanced over at her. “You tryin’ to wake up the whole wing, or what?”

“Wh- I…”

“Look, Si- Silv-” She coughed and rubbed her neck. “I don’t know what kinda shit you’re mixed up in, but… we’ll talk later, okay? I gotta find somewhere else to stay tonight.”

“I-”

“I’m not gonna tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not dumb enough to piss off Alcor the Dreambender… more than I already have, apparently. Fuuck.”

“That’s not what I was…” She stepped forwards. “I’m sorry, Bea, I-I didn’t… I… I can explain-”

“We’ll talk later. Just-” Bea held her hands out. “We’ll talk later, okay? Bye.”

And then she turned a corner and was gone, her footsteps thudding in Noie’s mind like the beat of her heart. She stood there for a moment, eyes staring, mind buzzing, every fiber of her being wishing for this to have all been a dream, for this to have turned out any other way.

Her first night over, with her first real friend, and this happened.

She clenched her fists.

Dipper.

His presence was still there, still watching. She wanted to scream right then and there; it took all her effort to take a deep breath, walk back down the hall, and enter her dorm room.

It was empty. And dark - darker than plain darkness. She jabbed the light switch.

“Dipper.” Noie walked forwards. “We have to talk. Now.”

Nothing, for a moment. She opened her mouth to say something else, but-

“I-I’m here,” Dipper came in through the front door. He looked entirely human again - human, and nervous. “So, uh-”

“What the fuck was that.”

“Yeah… That wasn’t, um, great of me-.”

“‘Wasn’t great of you’, that’s all you’re gonna say for that? Jeez, I don’t wanna hear what a bad day is for you if that is just ‘not great.’” She laughed angrily. “I mean, what the fuck, Dipper! You strangled her!”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to hear about how you know, I wanna know what on earth possessed you to do that! Is that just a thing you do? Are you gonna kill all my friends, or is Bea just lucky?”

“It’s- I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” Dipper avoided his eyes. “I just… got surprised.”

“Got sup-?!”

“No! No, that’s- that’s a bad way of explaining it! Sorry. Sorry, it’s just…” His voice lowered. “a demon thing, I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to, want to hear about, uh, that kinda stuff…”

Noie felt a cold pit in her stomach as he trailed off. A demon thing… her mind flashed back to all the other times that part of her brother had come into play, had hurt people… had killed . Maybe it wasn’t like she was thinking.

“Just tell me why, Dipper.”

“It… it is your friend. You’re right, she’s special, kinda.” He gave a tense chuckle. “Look, um, it’s hard to explain, but her soul, she came in the door and I recognised it.” His fists clenched. “It… belonged to a bad person, a long time ago.”

She frowned. “Dipper, Bea’s been nothing but nice to me since we met. She’s not a bad person-”

“You’re right, she’s probably not! I overreacted, I just- I wasn’t expecting to come across that soul! Usually I can… prepare, to meet that one.” He stared into the middle distance. “An elf, this time around. Strong control of magic, clearly trained in shielding… no wonder I didn’t notice her.” A grimace. “I really hope she’s a good person this time around, that’s… formidable. Have to keep my eye on her.”

Noie made a face. “Dipper…”

“Sorry. I’m sorry, I’m doing it again.” He sighed. “Look, I really am sorry for what I… what I did to your friend. I swear, though, that was a very, very unexpected event. You’re not gonna see me like that again.”

That was a little reassuring… but a sentence jumped out at Noie. She raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean, see you like that?”

“Well… you know.” He mimed something coming out of his back. ‘Like that, you know. My, uh, business attire.”

“Your demon form?” She watched him cringe at that. “You think that’s what bothered me about what happened?”

“Well, not the main thing, but I know… I know it does.”

Noie blinked. “It doesn’t.”

“It’s okay if it does-”

“It doesn’t!” She snapped. “We’ve been over this, I get you’re a demon! What kind of sister would I be if I decided that made me uncomfortable?”

He just looked at her.

“Dipper, it doesn’t! It…” Noie swallowed. “I don’t want you to be scared of sharing stuff like this with me! I don’t want you to hide it, I… I think it makes it scarier. When I don’t know things about you.”

He just looked at her, with that ancient expression. A million alarm bells went off at the being who stood before her; she tried to talk past them, tried to talk to Dipper.

“Because there’s so much I don’t know about you. There’s so much you don’t tell me about you, and I get that it’s probably hard, that you think I don’t want to hear it, but then…” She gestured. “Stuff like this happens, and I don’t know how to react! I don’t know why you’re doing it, I don’t know how to help you… I-I don’t know you, all of a sudden! You’re just a demon, doing demon stuff, a-and that’s scary!”

Noie’s shoulders hurt; she forced them down, forced herself to close her eyes, and take a deep breath. She looked at the floor.

“I don’t… I don’t want to be scared of you, Dipper. I’m sorry that I still… kinda am.” She hugged herself. “I just… I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Dipper didn’t say anything, for a long moment. She stood there, staring down, down at the carpet.

“Noie.”

She didn’t meet his eyes, could hardly bring herself to look higher than his shoes.

Dress shoes, she noticed. Black ones, and black pants. She drew in a breath.

“Noie,” Alcor said. “Do you want a hug?”

She hesitated, and then nodded. The shoes moved, and a second later, a pair of arms wrapped around her. They were longer than Dipper’s usually were, attached to a body taller than Dipper usually was… but they were just as gentle, squeezed just as hard.

She pressed her face into his suit, and mumbled, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I mean it.” She gave him a squeeze. “I wanna be better about this demon stuff. I don’t want you to feel like you gotta hide stuff from me, I wanna know my bro. Even if it gets weird at times.”

“I’m not so sure you want to know everything, Noie.”

“Well… I wanna know important stuff. I wanna know if you have any more souls you randomly hate, for one.” She tried for a chuckle. “I guess… I wanna know what you’d tell any other Mizar. I don’t wanna get the kid gloves, you know?”

Dipper didn’t answer that. For a moment, Noie thought he wasn’t going to, but then she felt a pair of something that wasn’t hands wrap around her midsection. It felt like two weirdly warm blankets, it was… wings?

Oh, yeah. His wings. The feeling of them still made her a little jittery, but she gave a little laugh.

“Yeah,” she said. “Stuff like that.”

“Heh, alright.”

“Are you laughing at me?”

Dipper chuckled. “No.”

“You big jerk!” She snorted and smacked his arm. “You did that to make me jump, didn’t you!”

“Maybe a little.”

“Ohhh, my stars.” Noie grinned up at his toothy smile, his twinkling gold-on-black eyes. It was different, but it was Dipper. “I’ll get you back for this. I’m gonna dump glitter on your wings.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll catch you when we’re studying, or - no, I’m not gonna tell you when I do it. You just wait.”

“Hah, I will. I’d like to see you try.” Dipper said, and then: “Hmm, not sure if I can even start having my wings out while we study. I mean, you still have your roommate coming in at random, and-”

“Yo No-ster, I’m home!” Val burst through the door with a pizza box. “Do you know math? I have this stupid thing due at 11:59 and-”

She noticed the demon standing in the centre of the room, and stopped dead. Noie tried for a wave.

“Oh, hi, Val! You’re back, uh, early… have you met Dipper? He’s a, uh, cosplayer. Twin Souls.”

“No, I am not. Noie-”

“Sorry, I couldn’t think of anything else- Uh, haha, anyway, he’s…” She kept grinning at Val’s horrified expression. “It’s, uh… so, what pizza did you get? Pepperoni? Mmm, smells great!”

______________________________________________________________

“So they just let you move in, huh?”

Dipper was hanging suits in what used to be Val’s side of the closet. “Yeah, basically. It was even easier than usual, since Dipper Argenta already exists - only had to forge a few things.”

“Only a few things, huh.” Noie snorted at him from atop her bed. “As you do.”

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” She grinned at him. “Good to share a room with you again, bro. I missed it… or maybe I just missed not living with Val, hah!”

Dipper chuckled at that, and turned back to folding his clothes. His wings swayed a little as he worked, and she found herself staring at them. They were strange things; every time she saw them, they were a little different, and today they were wide and sloping things that framed his head when they were folded up against his back. There was always a tinge of unreality to them - a voidlike, blacker-than-black colour to them that made it impossible to pick out any detail, made looking at them… a little mesmerising.

“Need something?”

Noie blinked. “Uh, no,” she said, and tore her gaze away. “No, you’re good.”

“Alright, then.” Dipper snuck her a grin. “This is kinda, kinda fun, hanging up clothes! I should do this more often!”

Her phone buzzed. She looked down.

“Well, you can do my closet, uh, any time, bro…” She unlocked it. “Oh.”

“What?”

“Bea got back to me!”

“Oh, cool! She’s outside, then?”

“Yeah!” Noie looked at the text. “It says… ‘I’m here, can’t wait to hear how the fuck you got a demon for a brother. PS…”

“P.S. what?”

“She’s saying not to tell you this joke.”

Dipper frowned. “What does it say?”

“Uh… ‘P.S. - make sure your brother clips his nails before he gets down here, would feel much nicer on the neck. P.P.S - That was a joke, please don’t actually tell him that, I don’t want to die.’”

She looked up after that, and sniggered when her brother rolled his eyes.

“I’m not gonna kill her over a bad joke.”

“It’s not a bad joke, she just got you.”

“She did not! She-” He huffed and fluttered his wings. “Whatever, let’s go.”

“Yeah, she got you, bro! Look, you’re blushing!”

“I’m not!”

“iiiiii’m nooooot!”

“I’m not!” He shook his head at her. “Are you ready? She’s waiting outside.”

“I just gotta get my shoes on.” Noie hopped off the bed and… tried to poke his wing; she ended up just gesturing at it. “I dunno why you’re, uh, getting on my case, you’re way less ready.”

“It takes five seconds to put on a human suit. Look,” There was a snap as Noie put on her shoes. “Noie, look. Noie.”

“I’m looking, I’m looking.” She shoved her feet into sneakers and looked over. “You missed a spot.”

“Where?”

“Riiiight abouuuut…” She jabbed his side. “Here!”

“Aaah! St-stop tickling me, hah! Noie!”

“Alright, alright…” She stopped, and took a moment to straighten his suit. He was looking at her with those familiar brown eyes she was seeing less of these days; after a moment, she remembered to smile back. “Alright. You ready to do a lot of explaining?”

“Readier than I usually am with stuff like this.” He snorted to himself. “You, uh, want me to tesser you down there? I can do that, it’ll be faster than taking the stairs.”

Noie hesitated at that. He noticed; quickly, he added:

“We don’t have to. Just, uh, offering.”

“No, that’s good, that’s… my phone’s buzzing.” Noie pulled it out. “Bea says, um, ‘I’m summoning your brother myself if you make me wait. Maybe I’ll die, but I wanna hear the storyyyyy-’, and a lot of y’s.” She looked back at Dipper, and gave a smile. “Maybe we should go the fast way.”

“Alright.” He offered a hand, and she took it, watched as his eyes flickered to that gold-on-black. “Hold on tight.”

And she did. She closed her eyes, squeezed her brother’s hand, and let him work his magic.

#transcendence au #Noie's Brother #naomi argenta #alcor the dreambender #dipper #oneshot #toothwrites

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dragonheadskilax · 3 years ago

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Gonna annotate about Leon’s entire character to y’all because he’s so so good, and every time I see someone say he’s a bad character for crushing on a man who doesn’t like him back i’m >:(

An archer born in a Zofian town. His manner of speech and conduct are unmistakably similar to a young lady's. He grew up care-free thanks to his parents and their laid-back environment. He was often teased for his effeminately good looks, and he always responded with a test of skill--which he would win, improving his reflexes. He joined the army to search for someone he could devote his heart to. When Valbar decided to accompany Celica, he naturally tagged along, and provided much assistance during the journey. He has a frank personality, saying what's on his mind; he's also the type of person who wears his heart on his sleeve. After the war, he became a merchant and it's said he lived a free and happy life.

The area of Zofia do follow Mila who is known as the goddess of love so considering how Leon is sappy and having the title “True of Heart”, Leon would totally be into lovecore aesthetic.

He may act feminine, use female gendered words in other languages, and would call himself a maiden, but as far as everything else he’s crude and mean and doesn’t hold back on filtering himself even if he’s talking to a kid.

Leon left home when he was young, so considering how this game series does have a thing of making 15 year old kiddies soldiers I’m guessing he left home at around that age.

To ‘wear your heart on your sleeve’ means to be honest and openly show your feelings or emotions. He’s painfully honest and drop hints he’s not straight.

"...Blerg. I don't like sea travel, and it sure doesn't like me. I'm nauseous, I'm sunburned, and I'm wind-beaten. I look like death's damp leftovers. But YOU look fresh as a daisy, Priestess! What's your secret? ...What? Nothing? NOTHING?! But you look like a dew-dappled angel! Augh, that's so annoying... Well, youth is great and all, but don't expect it to last."

There’s that painful honesty.

He sure does focus on his looks. He’s 24, smh Leon don’t think that you’re not gonna last past 30.

"Great. We finally get off that infernal boat, and now it’s the desert. Are you doing this on purpose, Priestess? Is it personal? *sigh* I want to get out of here before I dry up like a mummy. If I turn hideous and Valbar abandons me, it’s your fault. …What did you say? …Valbar isn’t the sort to judge people by their appearance? You think I don’t realize that? I know him FAR better than you! Gods, it really throws me when you’re so rational and correct…"

Still trying hard to get noticed by Valbar.

I like how he’s saying this particular line to a 17 year old, like chill, dude. Be nice.

"When I was a kid, there was this guy that I was head over heels for. He’s the reason I enlisted, actually. Just so I could stay close to him. He died in the first battle we fought. I cried so hard, I thought my eyes were going to float clean out of my skull. Valbar saved me from that. Every time he saw me, he’d take the time to say something. Cheer me up. What can you do with a man like that but fall in love? You’re thinking I’m a tramp, aren’t you? Well, I’m not. It’s hardly my fault that the world is full of wonderful, lovable people. Such a thing really motivates one to get out there and save it."

He made a big decision to leave home and enlist to follow a guy.. Now that he fell in love with Valbar he’s doing anything to follow him, too. I guess what’s different is it had been an unrequited love, even when it was suggested that Valbar knew about it it remained as a crush. Leon loves him at a distance so then he wouldn’t get badly hurt as he once had.

Him saying he’s not a “tramp” is a bit of info I like because people tend to wanna characterize effeminate gay characters as being touchy and wanting to peek at lotsa guys (which isn’t bad but there’s more than one type of guy), but not Leon, he’s more of a yearning for a soul mate kinda guy. He’s not big on lots of physical touch unless he really likes ya. "Hey, hey, now. No more of that." “I'm a friendly fellow, but not the touchy-feely type. All right?"

talking to Valbar “Heh heh. But it's fine. Emotions come in many forms, and as you say, there's no point in hanging on. I'm still glad I have these feelings, and nothing will change that.”

A crush is totally different than being in a relationship so like... I don’t like it when people say he’s a bad character for it. It totally happens to like someone but they don’t swing that way. In Leon’s case he keeps the crush because it feels safer and sappy to have it. Even if he tries his darnest to let Valbar get the hint he Loves loves him, when nothing happens he just accepts that.

talking to Valbar “Just realizing I've been a fool for feeling sorry for myself. Compared to what you've gone through, my worries are nothing.”

Despite the ol’ “keeping his heart on his sleeve” thing Leon has a knack of keeping negative feelings to himself. Probably the type who wouldn’t admit it because it doesn’t feel as big of a deal compared to other’s. This guy needs a hug so bad.

Kamui: “Oh, you're a laugh riot. But anyway, what do you think makes a good man?”

Leon: “Hmm. That's not easily summed up in a few words, but... for starters, he should be kind, strong and mature... while maintaining a boyish innocence. He also needs to listen, but be ready to tell the hard truths when necessary.”

Kamui: “Oh, come on. No one's that perfect.”

Some people take their conversations as being odd or random information or just to express again on how Leon’s gay but I wanna turn more attention on Kamui’s motive for asking in the first place. For someone who tries to not make people take him as gay, and explicitly so in the manga, he sure do wanna know what Leon’s type is if he’s got his eyes on Valbar.

Kamui is kinda right that no one could be perfect but Leon had been describing Valbar, when like,, they’re not even in a relationship… Leon honey… don’t hurt yourself like this. This leads to their next conversation;

Kamui: It's about… what you said before. So what would you do if Valbar ended up being.. the opposite of your ideal?

Leon: Well, that's an absurd question. But in the interest of humoring you and passing the time... Well, I suppose I'd set off looking for a man who met my perfect ideal. A journey like that might actually be kind of... fun.

Kamui: I think that's the first time you and I have agreed on anything.

Kamui could probably tell that Valbar isn’t ever going to return the kind of love Leon wants, and tries to learn what Leon’s thoughts are about that. Because even if he says he doesn’t care much about anything he seems to care about Leon. On the battlefield given his specific quotes for Leon and in these conversations. Kamui tells how his luck went south ever since joining in this journey and he’s only sticking around for the money, but that job he was paid for was done a long time ago at his recruitment quest. So he seems to hang around anyway for his sense of completion on things it seems.

The word ‘journey’ is like music to Kamui’s ears considering his history. It would be a fun writing idea actually of them traveling across Valm picking guys to speed date, well, like in the manga lmaooo but wider ranged.

This would be the first time Leon speaks nicely to Kamui instead of being standoffish and harsh. Kamui sounded really relieved for that. Then when Leon says he doesn’t like him that way Kamui instantly tries to back track lol

"Hello, Kiran! I've prepared some tea. Would you care to join me? I must admit, I was anxious when you first summoned me here. Ugh, don't laugh—it's rude! I may not look worried, but I have my fair share of concern, same as anyone else. Anyway, you've proven yourself more than capable, so I suppose I don't mind sticking around. To be honest, I am eager to return home... But that can wait, I think... Care for another cup?"

He says this when level 40 in FEH. So by this point he’s well acquainted with the player. Him admitted that negative feeling is once again that thing he has of keeping feels in to not seem it’s a big issue. And him wanting to go back home…. boohoo..

(If Valbar lives) Welcomed into the One Kingdom's Brotherhood of Knights, Leon remained at Valbar's side until an injury ended his fighting career. He then took up work as a merchant in the city market, where he lived free, happy, and dauntlessly true to himself to the last.

He better keep that good happy ending 👊

(If Valbar dies) Dealt a grievous blow by Valbar's death, Leon disappeared for a time before returning to join the One Kingdom's Brotherhood of Knights. There, he fought with the strength of a hundred men, and later served as an instructor to new recruits, contributing greatly to the order.

It’s messed up to think of Leon losing someone he loves again….. He should not go through all that again… Where did he disappear to.. Did he turn himself from twink to a bear to take the place of what would’ve been Valbar’s job if he lived (since Valbar ending would’ve been him becoming the instructor)

#dragon talk

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testingtwns · 5 years ago

Text

I finished the really really long original stuck sneeze story at last

HEY LOOK I DID IT !

Sorry this took so long. I made two posts before this to say it was coming soon, which was in order to garner interest and hopefully drum up my own interest in the process. Well, it totally backfired, and I intimidated myself into not writing at all. So, thank you for your patience with me!

Considering that this is a 13k-word stuck sneeze story, it’s like 98% build-up, so instead of being posted in parts, it’s all here. Not gonna leave anyone hangin’ without the part where sneezing actually happens. Since that’s why we’re all here I mean duh

Well... enjoy I guess !

It started at noon on a calm summer day. The royal family ate in the solarium, as they always did at mealtime, with the head of the table taken by Queen Cveta, heir apparent Arkady to her left, and the rest of the princes and princesses continuing in birth order down the line, all except for Vjera. Each window of the glass room was so perfectly clear as to be nearly invisible, giving a great view of the flourishing garden and all the curious creatures that it attracted. Hummingbirds and dragonflies and honeybees and swallowtails dipped and dove among the fauna, making for a very theatrical view, as it so often did. In the fall, there were deer; in the winter, ptarmigans and cardinals; and in the spring the deer came back, bringing with them their knobby fawns. Zlata and Pedja were hoping to see a set of those soft brown ears peering above the heather today, but the eldest siblings ate rather quietly, somewhat subdued. They knew they were supposed to be happy, but it was hard to say goodbye to one of their own.

Svetlana scooted boiled cabbage around her plate with her fork, and Dmitar leaned one elbow on the table and slouched a bit, totally forgetting his manners. As the eldest sibling, Arkady could not allow his sadness to be so easily observed, especially in front of the kitchen attendants bringing sweetbreads to and from the table. It would not do well for the next-in-line to seem disappointed about his sister's betrothal to the prince of a neighboring kingdom. But soon that was no longer the thought at the forefront of Arkady’s mind.

He had just filled his mouth with a sip of cold honey tea when a desire to sneeze hit him with startling urgency. Arkady's eyes widened before clamping shut, and he hastened to swallow before the squirming tickle at the roof of his mouth could win out. He had been groomed to have the best of manners, to keep from sneezing during meals, but this tickle was unusually urgent, and it wasn’t going to let him have a say. Arkady acted fast. One hand sloppily placed the glass back down, the other ushered his napkin to his face as he turned away from the table. He inhaled loudly once, twice, three times, and held the cloth tightly to his nose, sure whatever was coming would be impressive…

“Hhhtt-!”

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

For a moment, his whole body seemed to stall. Then, just as quickly as it came on, the sneeze disappeared, leaving nothing but the burning embers of an itch that hadn’t been soothed. Arkady sniffed, hoping to either fan the little flame or blow it out, but it wouldn’t be tempted in either direction. He could only blink in puzzlement, and at the tears that had started in the corners of his eyes, formed by unrealized desire.

When he lowered his hands, his whole family was staring at him from their individual places at the table, spoons or forks halfway to their mouths.

“Uh,” Arkady began, mildly sheepish as he returned the unused napkin to his lap, “I thought I was going to sneeze.”

“We all did,” said Zlata. “Why didn’t you?”

“It would have been good luck,” Pedja piped up.

“I was trying to,” Arkady insisted, almost defensively. “I would have liked to.” He kneaded the side of his nose hard with one knuckle. “It still feels as if I might.” Indeed, as those words left him, his mouth began to quiver open when the faint sensation twitched back to life. Both hands secured the napkin around his nose, and his eyelids squeezed together, and his insides felt like they were buzzing with anticipation, and—no. It still wasn’t to be. Arkady came down from the sneeze with a long sigh and blew his nose, which didn’t help much. His eyelashes were already damp from the tickle alone.

His brothers and sisters were staring at him again, strangely but clearly also fascinated for the conclusion to this little breakfast drama. It was Svetlana who glanced fervidly around the table in search of a solution. “Maybe there’s something spicy around here you can eat. Or something strong you can smell.”

“Hold on, now. Don’t provoke it.” It was their mother, Queen Cveta, who spoke now. “This could be Ilari’s doing.”

Arkady’s eyebrows slouched. “Or maybe I just have to sneeze, and I can’t d… do ihht…” The tickle struck a third time in as many minutes, and Arkady couldn’t pay attention to anything else. Cloth napkin around his face again, his family became colorful blurs before his eyes. They were all watching unabashedly… Embarrassed, he ducked into the cloth to hide. Gasp… gasp… Huff. No.

He raised his head blearily and narrowed his gaze. “Could you all at least have the courtesy not to stare at me?”

“Why?” said Pedja innocently. Staring was among his favorite hobbies.

“Because it’s impolite,” Arkady said. When Pedja only continued to gaze at him, he added flatly, “And if you stare for too long, your eyes will dry up and fall out of your head, and birds will come and eat them.”

“Wow,” said Pedja.

“That’s enough of that. This may be serious,” Queen Cveta continued calmly. “Sneezing is a sign of good health and good fortune, and protection from the gods. It is usual to be able to sneeze—the opposite is not. This could be a message.” There was only slight worry in her steady look, but she was adamant when she told him, “Go to Jaga, and ask her what it might mean. She will be able to tell you.”

Arkady looked at his plate of rolls and boiled potato salad and pork aspic, which was only halfway finished. “I’d sort of rather try my luck with some spicy food,” he said.

“Go to Jaga,” Queen Cveta repeated.

It was a lost cause. Even if he was next in line for the throne, she was the Queen, and the Queen’s word was second only to the gods’. Sighing, Arkady stood to leave, but his sigh turned into a sharp snaggle of breath, and another, and another, and another, and as Arkady gripped the top of his chair desperately for support, the whole morning seemed to go silent waiting for his sneeze... but still it eluded him. Arkady’s brothers and sisters made a collective sound of discouragement on his behalf.

“If you think it’s annoying for you,” he said, touchy and a little flushed, “just think of how annoying it is for me!”

He exited directly into the garden, following the stepping stones towards the footbridges that connected each of the Peaks, like their own mountainous islands. Each individual peak hosted its own type of building: guesthouses, greenhouses, the royal family’s grounds, and the outbuildings, such as the one where Jaga lived. Each member of the royal entourage lived within the sanctuary walls; they were like family to Arkady, and they loved him as much as he loved them. He loved that they too could be protected by the same archers and guardsmen that kept his family from harm. But Arkady had heard it was different outside of his kingdom of Gornoye. In Dolina and Vodopad, the palace attendants were considered servants and could not look the king and queen in the eyes without punishment. They had to bow their heads and say “I beg your pardon” every time they entered a room. Would it be so in Derevo too?

Like a sense of dread, Arkady's sneeze came creeping back to tug his thoughts away from the matter of his sister's betrothal and towards this impossible itch. Oh, how it itched. Arkady stumbled to the wood railing of the bridge with clouding eyes, hoping that if the gods really had anything to do with this, they'd let him sn– “Huh-hhhh...” sneeze already– “Ehhthehheh... Hah! Utchtt-!” His breath stuttered: it was right there, right in the place that should have his voice bursting out of him like an announcement, and yet...

It didn't.

But it did keep his eyes shut tight, holding him in a place of such utter discomfort that he had to shake his head hard against it. If it wasn't going to happen, would it at least leave him alone? When he had enough control back to rub his nose, he did so, hoping to squash the inner tickle from the outside. It was barely a solution. Eventually he was able to open his eyes, but even then his vision was skewed by more stinging tears than he knew what to do with. One even went down his cheek.

"Brother! What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Arkady turned muzzily to his left. He had immediately recognized the voice as Vjera's, which was good, because the tears obscured her face to the point where she looked scarcely recognizable. He pulled the heels of his hands over his sleeves to dry the water in his eyes.

"I must look as if I'm crying," he said, sniffling hard, sure his nose was some shade of red. He laughed a bit to show he wasn't sad, though the situation hardly felt funny at all. "I almost wish I was. It would be better than what's really happening."

Vjera was wearing a simple black pinafore dress, and her soft, dark hair hung down without any sort of style. She was likely holding off as long as she could from preparing for Prince Ivar's arrival. She and her siblings often dressed formally for company, so any break from the layers of high-collared shirts and embroidered coats was a welcome one. She reached out and touched the sleeve of his loose, soft tunic now. "What's really happening? Are you going to throw up?"

"Uh, no," Arkady said, with a slight chuckle at her bluntness. "No... Augh." He scrubbed hard at the fire in his snout. He turned away slightly as he did so; it was embarrassing to make those silly, hesitant faces in front of anyone. “It's my nose. I've got to sneeze, but I can't. I just keep gasping and then nothing happens. Mother thinks Ilari has something to do with it. She thinks it might be a sign of some sort. I don't know what it is, but I hope Jaga has a solution, because I can hardly stand it another second."

Vjera flashed a keen little grin. "What a pain. I would scare it out of you if I could."

"You always were a bit too good at curing my hiccups," Arkady said, remembering in their youth how, after complaining of the ailment, she would wait until he had been hiccuping for a good five minutes, then reach out from underneath his bed or under his study table and grab his ankles as tightly as she could. It had never failed to make him yelp.

Even such a simple memory inspired nostalgia. His eyes saddened. "You're really leaving tomorrow."

"I really am," Vjera sighed. She became gentle, lightly touching the railing and gazing into the Sheerwater River below. "I told you I was ready, and I thought I meant it. But today I feel less sure. I am going to miss watching the girls and little Pedja grow into adults, and I'll miss Dmitar's singing, his jokes. But it’s you I’m going to miss most of all. What am I going to do without my best friend?”

Arkady gazed into the gorge too. "I wish I knew the answer. I've been asking myself the same question." And I’ve been asking the gods, too, he thought, but decided not to admit it. Such trivialities were not exactly meant for gods’ ears.

The siblings smiled at each other, bittersweet, and embraced for what was sure not to be the last time that day. They understood each other like no one else could. They had endured many of the same lessons in etiquette and politics while they grew up, as Vjera would be second in line for the throne until Arkady himself had children. Because of those lessons, they both had understood all their lives that they would not marry for love so much as for political reasoning. It was part of why they had turned to each other so desperately for friendship, each acting as an anchor in a life full of acquaintances and kowtowers and even those who meant well but could never fathom the burdens of the crown.

The running water below filled the silence—at least until Arkady began, again, gathering unsteady breaths. He pulled away from his sister's shoulder, held a hand in front of his face, praying it would soon be catching the results of a truly satisfying sneeze. Twenty-five years of etiquette lessons had been engrained in him, and usually the idea of sneezing without a cloth ready seemed preposterous. But this tickle was even more preposterous, so etiquette was long forgotten. All that mattered was the sneeze.

He tried his damnedest to make it happen. His tongue cupped itself and pressed to the bottom of his mouth. "Hhhuuhhhth... Shehh..." he begged. Then he found himself doing something he had seen others do when they were about to sneeze, which was use a hand to fan in front of his face. Arkady had no idea how such an action would serve him, but they said necessity was the mother of invention. And it seemed... to be... helping... a l-little...!

"Ehh...! Ehsh-!... … hyew..."

A weird, finite little noise escaped him then. Arkady blinked largely in surprise. He had not sneezed, but he had spoken a sneeze-like sound nonetheless, and he hadn't even meant to. It was as if he had wanted it so badly, even feigning the act was better than nothing.

But oh, how much nothing it had done.

Vjera seemed just as confused by this. "Was that... a sneeze?"

"No!" Arkady growled. He coughed and rubbed at his face. "No... Sorry for snapping. I'm not angry at you. I'm angry with my nose. I'd rip it off and throw it into the gorge if I could. Anything to escape this torture."

When there was no response to that, Arkady glanced up from tending to his nose to look at his sister. Her mouth was a hard line, and her eyes sparkled at him.

Arkady frowned. “It’s not funny!”

Vjera held her pointer finger and thumb apart. “It’s a little funny.”

“If this were happening to you, you wouldn’t be so amused,” Arkady said.

“But it isn’t happening to me,” Vjera said.

“So that means it’s funny?”

“It does,” Vjera nodded.

At her brother’s frustrated expression and further badgering of his nose, Vjera finally took pity on him and patted his shoulder. “I’m sure Jaga will take good care of you. I was just there myself, anyway, and I’m feeling a bit better.”

Arkady was alert at once. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing to fret about. I just feel nauseous,” Vjera admitted. “I wanted to eat with you all this morning, and just now, but even the idea of food is too much. I think my stomach is more upset about this betrothal than I am.” She paused. “I-I mean… no, not upset. I just meant…”

He knew what she meant: If anyone sees me looking miserable on the day I’m going to meet my future husband, it’s won’t send the right message to our people.

A herd of low mountain clouds had been passing through them for a while. “No one can see us right now, Ra. Will you be honest with me at least?”

Vjera chewed her lip. Her nickname seemed to undo something in her heart for a moment, but she hid it fast, as future queens did. “I’m not being dishonest. I’ve made my peace with it. And even though I’m nervous, I’m also excited, really. It’s just a lot of newness at once. It’s overwhelming.”

Arkady wanted to coax more of the truth out of her, but something was overwhelming him too. “Gods, not again… Suh-Sorry…” he breathed, his hands going up to his face guiltily, but he couldn’t think or speak when he was like this. The tickle was like a teething puppy, nipping and nuzzling in the back of his nose. He pinched it hard, asking it to stop. Two, three, four gasps later, the urge delivered a final, aching burn, and he was back to feeling unrelieved and unable to sneeze.

Arkady blinked hard and smudged at his eyes. “Ugh… I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Vjera shook her head, “and go to Jaga now. Keeping you here any longer would be cruel.”

“You aren’t keeping me,” Arkady said. He couldn’t stop touching at his nose though.

“I am, and I won’t anymore,” she insisted. She gently nudged him in the direction she’d come from. “Please go have something done about your poor nose.”

"I sure hope something is done," Arkady sighed. "I'd love to have this over with at last. I promise I'll make for better conversation after I finally sneeze."

"Good luck," Vjera wished him before he continued his short journey to the herbalist’s abode.

The steeply-sloped, pentagonal building Jaga conducted her work in was just over the bridge that connected the main plateau to one of the many surrounding peaks. Jaga spent most of her time preparing medicines and tending to her plants, plants that she named and talked to as if they were children. Though half of the building was designed like a greenhouse, her workspace had but one window, so she lived like a cave-dweller when she wasn’t out culling flora, and wore a wild mane to match her wild lifestyle. Due to her many eccentricities, it was easy to forget that she was a genius of an herbalist.

Jaga had just two years ago taken over the late Rosa's position. Where Rosa had been a gentle presence with a sagely bedside manner, Jaga was overzealous when it came to healing. A person with an ailment was certainly more interesting to her than a person without one. Because of that, Arkady felt a little reluctant to let her know what was going on with him. But if she could cure this itch, it was well worth any fuss.

And the moment Arkady walked into her keep, that accursed itch returned with a vengeance. “Um, good day, J-Jagahh...” he trailed off almost immediately, bringing a hand to his mouth, eyes closing just before he noticed the tousled witch looking up from her mortar and pestle. “I'm... um... hh...” I’m unable to talk just yet because I’m trying to sneeze. He sensed her at his side, even as he struggled and pleaded for the sensation to free itself. He turned a bit, not exactly enthusiastic for her to see his face in this state, yet unable to care too terribly much at this point. “Hhhh... HhHH-!”

He waited. Jaga waited. They both waited.

Aaand nothing. Again.

Arkady gulped at the air and fervidly blinked away the stars in his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time. "Hhh... Sorry… I’m-”

"You can't sneeze," Jaga said simply. Though at least a decade older than the prince, she was eight inches shorter, and yet somehow she seemed to be right in his face, staring up the length of her own nose at his unmanageable one. She appeared very interested in him.

"Um," Arkady felt himself flushing again, "yes." He sniffled, rubbed at his upper lip. "I just want to do away with whatever’s causing this," he admitted, "but Queen Cveta is worried it might mean something.”

"And she should be," Jaga said. "Ilari is trying to send you a message."

Arkady slumped his shoulders. "You think so too?"

"How do you feel right now?" Jaga ignored his question to field her own. "Does your nose still tickle? Do you feel that you could sneeze any moment? Or is it more of an itch you can't scratch?"

"I-I don't know," Arkady panted, "but the more you tuh... talk about it, the more I want... tuhhhh... Hh, h, heh, nh-!" His mounting breaths hit an octave that seemed to promise results, but all too soon he was sighing out the air he'd swallowed, unfulfilled. Arkady cupped a hand over his poor abused nose. "Ugh... the more I want to sneeze."

Jaga's eyes were glittering like camel jasper. "How interesting," she said. "You really need it, don't you? But you still can't manage to do it?"

Throwing the truth back in his face kind of stung. "Well, yes, as a matter of fact," he huffed.

Jaga put her hands on her hips, staring off into space thoughtfully. She did this for long enough that Arkady felt the tickle in him stirring again, a demanding little niggle, yet it would not be satisfied. He went to touch his nose, to relieve it even just a tiny bit, and was surprised to feel a hand upon his wrist stopping him.

"H-Hey. Don't." It was a lame argument, but the current pulse of the distant sneeze had left him in a trance-like state where all he could think about was relief.

“I know it's bothering you," Jaga said with a smirk, "and I don't blame you for wanting to scratch. But listen. If I learned anything from Rosa, it's that the ailments of the royal family are never to be ignored. And even you know well enough that sneezing is considered a direct message from the gods.”

"But I'm not sneezing." Arkady hoped the slight whine in his voice would inspire sympathy. "Isn't that the opposite of a sign?"

Jaga shook her head. "Without a doubt, it’s a sign," she said. She went back to her table and returned with a nearly-empty clay mug. "The leaves told me all I needed to know. Something important is going to happen today. And your sneezing—or not-sneezing, rather—might just be connected to it."

"We already know what the important thing is," Arkady grumbled. "Prince Ivar and his entourage are coming."

"Perhaps that is the important thing," Jaga said as she circled the rim of the mug with her finger, "perhaps it isn't. But in order for the gods' sign to arrive when it needs to arrive, you must leave your nose alone. If you try to make the sneeze come too soon or late, you may never receive the message they are sending you. The fact that you can't sneeze, that you try and fail? This is all part of their plan. Be patient, and trust their judgment."

Arkady's fingers grasped uselessly at the air before his face. "At this point, I'd... rather s... s-sneez- ha-haH…!"

Jaga waited with him in the pregnant silence that followed. She tsked any time his fingers went too close to his nostrils, desperate to rub or aid in any way possible. The self-consciousness over the faces he was pulling was disappearing fast: every time his breathing snagged, all he could hope was that the sneeze was coming at last and that he'd be free of this strange torment. And it held him just above his breaking point for so long, when the sneeze did finally disappear, Arkady snarled at the ceiling, "There’d better be a good reason for this, damn it!"

Old Rosa might have gasped at that, but Jaga was made of different stuff. "Don't brush the gods off so quickly," she said with a light laugh. "You've done nothing to anger them—well, aside from the aforementioned damning. Right?”

Arkady paused. “I can’t think of anything.”

Jaga nodded. “You have the blood of Ilari, whose sneeze saved us from the floods. It's possible that your sneeze could even save you. So let it come in its own good time."

“There is nothing good about the time it’s taking.” Arkady sniffed hard. All these tears were turning his sinuses to liquid. “Do you have anything I can use for a handkerchief?”

For a moment, Arkady was afraid she wouldn’t let him blow his nose, but she found him a cloth, and he accepted it gratefully. Using it helped him feel a bit more clear-headed, but now the tickle was merely a dry one instead of wet, which was just as bad. He snuffled around in the kerchief until Jaga commanded, “That’s enough. Leave it be. Leave it!” She swatted at his wrist. “Am I going to have to follow you all day to make sure you don’t scratch?”

The prince reluctantly removed his hands, scowling. “No.”

“Good,” Jaga said. “And you promise me, as soon as you sneeze, you tell me about where you were, what was happening, what you were thinking—everything. Come back if it hasn’t happened in a few more hours.”

“A few more hours?” Arkady stared at her, jaw dropping. “You think it might last that long?!”

“It could,” was the unfortunate response. “If it does last that long than the message is likely to be an important one.”

Arkady was silent, staring down at the kerchief as he folded it into a neat triangle.

Jaga had returned to her pestle and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “I know a look of doubt when I see one,” she said with a slyness. “I’ll follow you all day if I have to, Prince. Don’t you meddle with that sneeze. If Ilari hadn’t sneezed at the time and place he did, Gornoye wouldn’t exist, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, would we? So you let it alone.”

“All right, all right, I won’t bother it,” Arkady lied. He put the kerchief in his pocket and folded his arms. “Well, then… If the best herbalist in Gornoye has no cure for me, than I suppose I had better go get ready for the Derevo entourage.”

He was being grouchy, he knew, and it only seemed to delight Jaga even more. “Farewell, Prince Arkady. And remember to have patience.”

“Have patience,” he muttered under his breath once he was outside. He knuckled his nose. Who in the world could exercise patience when they felt like he did? Sneezes stopped and started three times in just the short walk from Jaga’s workspace back to the main palace and solarium. It was insanity.

Arkady snorted after the third bout of hitching breaths. Yes, of course he knew about the significance of Ilari’s sneeze; he’d been rocked to sleep with the story many a night, just like every child of the Ossian faith. It went that the great god Ossia, disgusted that the world of his making had been burnt and torn and destroyed by centuries of war, decided to flood the land with a rainstorm. And all the people of the world would have drowned, if the great dragon Ilari had not spontaneously sneezed a hole in the storm clouds, sparing one single mountainside of humanity. Those people had Ilari's blessing. Those people also, allegedly, were Arkady's ancestors.

In earnest, Arkady figured the chances of that were slim. His was not the only mountain town that believed they were the one saved by Ilari’s sneeze. The ancient texts told the story but never specified the location of the spared mountain. For him to be the true prince whose veins flowed with Ilari’s divinity was what he’d been told all his life, and something he’d doubted for just as long.

Though he debated the legitimacy of his birthright, Arkady did believe that the gods played some role in his fate. He also, however, hoped that the gods would have more efficient means of sending him a message than... this. "Hh! Hh-shhuh... hh..." The sneeze only stirred faintly this time before backing down. Arkady scrubbed and scrubbed his nose. Sometimes the tickle was an icicle point, a sharp stimulus, while at most times a puddle, a tingly sensation spread out over his entire nose but overall not near enough of a disturbance to make his breath catch. He wasn't sure which was worse. When the urge crested, the end seemed so tantalizingly close, and to have it taken away was crushing. When it was no more than a faint humming, it made him feel prickly and unsettled. It was ridiculous to go on doing nothing at all. Thus, Arkady had no intention of following Jaga’s advice. He was going to rid himself of this sneeze.

The method to do so was in itself a problem that needed solving. Arkady knew that some sneezed from the fur of animals or certain flowers or a musty room, but those things had never much bothered him. He tried to think of a time he had sneezed from something other than a spontaneous tickle or seasonal cold, and couldn't conjure a memory. And despite Svetlana's suggestion that he try spicy food, Arkady had never been so adversely affected by it. What options did that leave him?

Arkady thought back to the legend of Ilari. In some tellings of the story, it was said that the dragon god had sneezed when a bird had flown too close to their nose or even into their nose. Maybe, Arkady reasoned, he needed some external stimulus in order to get things moving too. He certainly wasn’t interested in waiting for the tickle to sort itself out.

A bird was small for a dragon, but for him a feather would work all the same. As he made his way to his family’s living quarters, Arkady tried to remember if there was a quill in his room. When had he last written a letter? “Hh…” It might have been the congratulations to Prince Feofan on the birth of his firstborn… “Hhehf…” Or the prayers to burn for the Vernal Equinox… “Huuffh!” He had to stop walking when the building sneeze temporarily blinded him, making his eyes clamp tight and squeeze out water. Gods, how he wanted it… If a feather couldn’t bring on this—“Huhh…”—stubborn thing, what could?

Arkady massaged the end of his nose to soothe the sharper stings the marauding itch left in its warpath. When he looked up, he realized the two guards that manned the entrance to the plateau’s inner wall were watching him. He stiffened, self-conscious. Did everyone feel the need to stare at a sneezing person?

As Arkady continued through the entrance, one managed, shakily, “A-Are you all right, Prince?”

“No,” Arkady grumbled, slouching past them. He had given up on looking put-together.

“Uh… is Ilari with you?” the second guard asked. She had at least recognized it was a sneeze that had stalled him. What she wasn’t sure of was if it had come out or not, for if she were certain it had, her words wouldn’t have been a question.

“Would that he could be,” was the monotone reply thrown over his shoulder. He heard a confused, “What do you mean, Prince?” follow behind him that he chose not to heed.

Arkady proceeded up the stairs of the verandah to the sleeping chambers. Beneath the porch’s long overhang was a series of doors leading to the individual bedrooms. Each royal child had their own bedroom, complete with bath and antechamber, and as he passed by, he could hear muffled conversation between his siblings and an attendant beyond the walls as they spruced up for their most important guests. Arkady knew he should be calling on Wolfert to help him with his wardrobe as soon as possible, but… all in good time. Getting rid of this sneeze was his top priority right now.

When Arkady opened the door to his own quarters, he was surprised to see his mother in the antechamber, seated on one of four hand-painted benches overflowing with decorative pillows. His heart sunk immediately; he’d have to talk with her before he could try his hand at tempting this sneeze, and he could barely put up with it for another second.

“Oh, hello,” he said, in a tone that he hoped did not sound any bit annoyed.

The Queen sat up taller at his arrival, even though she had been sitting with near-perfect posture. “Ah, there you are. That took a while. Did Jaga say you’re all right?”

Arkady blinked and recognized an opportunity. “I met Vjera along the way. We talked for a bit. That’s why I took so long,” he began. He coughed. “Uh, in any case, Jaga says she doesn’t think anything is wrong.”

Queen Cveta looked uncertain. “She doesn’t?”

“She doesn’t.” Arkady sniffed. “In fact, I sneezed while I was there.” That was the hardest lie to tell, for how much he wished it were the truth. “She doesn’t think the gods have anything to do with it. Sh-She thinks I must just be having a reaction to something in the garden.” He sniffed again.

Queen Cveta shook her head at once. “That can’t be right. We have tea with honey from our bees every day. You’d have surely built up a tolerance to anything growing there. Jaga of all people should know that.”

Uh-oh. “She thinks something different might be growing there,” he corrected quickly. “Some new, foreign thing… It was the only explanation she could thiiiink ah… of.” It’s the only explanation I can think of, anyway. “I-It’s still k-k-ki-hind of bothering me,” he was forced to say next, because the sneeze was starting up again and there was no way he could pretend it wasn’t. He pulled out the handkerchief Jaga gave him and rubbed his nose with it.

Queen Cveta observed him a moment longer. “All right,” she said at last, standing to her slippered feet. “If that’s what Jaga says… I suppose we had better find out what that plant could be, when we have the time. Will you be fine getting ready for our guests?”

“Hhhhhh… Hh!... heh… fyew. I, uh, sh-should be,” Arkady stuttered, lowering the handkerchief pathetically when the sneeze backed off. It was getting harder and harder to recover from the dizziness of the tickle. “They—snf!—should be arriving in around two hours, correct?”

The Queen nodded. “Yes, I think so. I’ve got to make sure all the preparations are in order, so I should leave now. Goodbye.”

“Oh. Goodbye,” he repeated, surprised but not disappointed by her suddenly taking leave. No sooner had she shut the door behind her that Arkady was moving out of the antechamber into his own bedroom, more than ready to find that quill.

His room was finely decorated in jeweled chests and embossed dressers and a beautifully-carved set of drawers with a shrine on top for water offerings, all wonderful gifts from visitors and royal families from far and wide. He didn’t treat them with the respect they deserved as he pawed through their contents, with his mind on one thing only. “Where is it… Where is it…” he started mumbling under his breath after his desk had been thoroughly searched, his bedside table emptied of all its candles and books. “It has to be here…” There were sure to be quills in the study, but that was in the main palace, and he didn’t want to risk his mother or Jaga sighting him. Plus, he wanted relief now.

The room had been turned upside-down. There was no quill in sight. The search had taken twenty minutes, a good portion of that time dedicated to waiting for his non-sneeze to dissipate enough that he could get back to said fruitless searching. Arkady's frustration mixed with the tickle had brought him near to tears. He flopped onto the bed, clawing his hair with both hands and chewing his lip. If he didn't do something about this now, he was going to lose it.

And that was when he remembered it. His pillows were feather pillows. There were thousands of them there the whole time, and now they were right under his head! But the only way to get to them was to rip through the hemstitched tussah silk.

Was he that desperate? He was.

But not so desperate that he was going to tear the innocent pillow apart like a barbarian. Arkady used his hip dagger to cut a delicate slit in the material, something that could hopefully be mended quite easily, but he shed any remaining trepidation when the pillow’s bounty was spilled. Innocent down, ashen gray and white, immediately bled from the wound, sticking up in tufts. The littlest bits of feathers floated into the air around his face, which had his eyes rolling back into his skull immediately.

“Heh-hh! Hh! H! H! H!” His gasps were so quick and light, they were almost silent. The tendrils he was sure he’d inhaled were having a horrible effect on him. This tickle was different, not a puppy’s nip but the playful grapple of a dog’s maw, so much more powerful but still not something to be taken seriously. Hitching and huffing against the minuscule plumes, he was eventually driven so mad that he had to pinch his nose with his entire hand; he couldn’t for the life of him wait another second for that sensation to mature into a sneeze, even if, by some miracle, that was the solution. When the worst of the sting faded, he loosened his grip and snorted hard to launch any feathery debris out. He wanted to sneeze, after all, not torture himself.

The feathers inside the pillow were much smaller than he had anticipated them being. The longest ones were scarcely more than an inch, and he had to dig around for quite a while to find one that he could actually hold the stem of without also holding the entire feather. His decided tool was still rather disheartening. A writing quill would have been far more dangerous, with its tapered point and great length. He hoped that the fluffiness of the down would make up for that.

The introduction of the feather’s rounded tip to the inside of his nostril initially seemed promising. The gentle barbs coaxed at the sneeze when they twitched against fragile pink skin, and Arkady’s heart soared at the thought that the end was nigh. But after half a minute of tickling, the sneeze only seemed further away. Eyebrows lowering, Arkady dug the feather deeper. Again, the sneeze receded, and he chased it like a hound after a burrowing rabbit. But soon he encountered the same problem that many dogs did: the prey was farther back in its hole than fangs could reach. The barbs of the feather were not long enough to graze the back of his nose.

Arkady pushed so that the beds of his fingernails were right against the opening of his nostril, the feather stretched to its limits. It still wasn’t enough; the sneeze danced merrily out of reach, arching its back and teasing him horribly but not allowing him the relief he longed for like anything. How ridiculous could this get? He had never known of anyone trying this hard to sneeze with such little success. Sure, he’d had a sneeze disappear on him before, but normally that only meant a moment of disappointment, a little throb that fast went away. His sneezes were usually utterly unremarkable. They came and went, in ones, twos, and rarely threes, if he were sick or if the urge had been especially strong, and after a brief shake of his head and a sniffle, Arkady would go on with his day. This sneeze was a bully. This sneeze felt alive. And as the hound could think of nothing but the death of its prey when it was so close, so too was Arkady determined.

He pushed that feather as far as it would reach. And somehow, some way, he felt its single longest follicle graze the back of his nose.

Arkady’s chest stuttered. Success. He swelled with pride. He couldn’t stop now. He scratched and swiped the feather against the sensitive skin, against the sneeze which had nowhere left to run. He starting inhaling fittishly and didn’t stop.

“Hhh, hh, hh, hh, hh! Hh! Hh-!”

His lungs felt enormous. His nose burned. The sneeze seemed real, close, about to break out of him. “Huh! Huhhhh! Hhhhhhhh…!” Arkady could take in air no more. All he needed was one more swipe of the feather… One more touch and then, surely… Surely…

It was at this crucial moment that Arkady found his hand unable to move. Possessed by the sheer power of this urge, he could devote himself to no other function. But that would be his undoing.

“H? Hh?? H-hhh???”

The possibility was fading fast, and Arkady briefly panicked, swirling the small feather wherever it could easily reach. But he was losing the breaths he’d gathered, and he knew it was over even before he felt an arm pulling his hand away from his face and an ever-jocular voice admonishing, “Now, Prince, I told you not to meddle with it, didn’t I?”

It took a while for his eyes to open, and even longer for his breathing to even out, so then for some time he could only stare at Jaga and Queen Cveta looking down at him, the witch smiling in amusement and his mother looking none-too-pleased.

“I hoped it wasn’t true, but I had a feeling I was being lied to,” Queen Cveta began. “Jaga has confirmed it. Why did you not tell me the truth?”

Arkady took a few more deep breaths. His diaphragm had been through a lot today. “I’m sorry,” he said to the Queen, when he was at last able to speak, “but I can’t tell you how badly I want to sneeze.” Then to Jaga, he said, “‘Meddling’ doesn’t do me any good, it still won’t happen. This isn’t a normal sneeze. The gods are punishing me, and I don’t know what for, but I have to find out and make it up to them as soon as possible.”

To his surprise and Queen Cveta’s, Jaga began to laugh. “Prince, Prince, Prince,” she shook her head, “what reason would the gods have to punish you?”

Arkady shook his head back. “As I said, I don’t know why. Of all days too; today should be about Vjera.”

Vjera… At her name, something dawned on him. “I know why,” he sighed, looking at his lap. “I’ve asked the gods every day for the past month if they could find Prince Ivar a different queen. But it was a selfish wish, and this is how they’re letting me know.”

“Arkady! Why would you pray for such a thing?” Queen Cveta stood tall. “This marriage will allow your sister to rule in a way she could not if she were to stay here. It isn’t right for you to use your influence over the gods in such a manner. This is a shameful thing for my successor to do.”

“I know,” Arkady answered evenly. “I see that now.” He looked up. “I could apologize for my actions, but then I will have lied to you twice in one day.”

The Queen temporarily maintained her ferocity, but her face soon softened into one of a mother. “I understand your sadness,” she said. She closed her eyes and became a queen again. “But that is the way of our world. Whatever kindnesses we offer ourselves often means we are taking something away from our people. And instead of praying for Gornoye’s continued protection and peace, you chose to ask for this. I almost find the gods’ punishment too light… but they know better than I do what is deserved.”

Arkady wanted to tell the Queen that this ‘punishment’ was, in fact, not something he would wish even on an enemy, but he was too busy dealing with said punishment to say so. The tickle was bubbling to the surface with as many empty promises as ever. “Feh,” he gasped anyway, weakly pleading with the sneeze for mercy, despite everything it had put him through today. It bothered and wheedled away, digging deeper than a feather or a breath could pry it out of, no matter how much he called to it. “Hh, heh! Heh, sheh! Ht-tz-! … … …shyew…”

It wasn’t a sneeze. Just like earlier with Vjera on the bridge, he’d made some kind of approximate noise in place of the sneeze, as if that would do him any good. Arkady tearily knuckled at his nose while Jaga and Queen Cveta exchanged glances.

“Was that… a sneeze?” the Queen finally asked.

Arkady gave a big snuffle. “No.”

“Hmmmmm,” hummed Jaga, rubbing her chin and looking as suspiciously amused as ever. After a thoughtful moment, she grinned. “Well, Prince Arkady, I suppose you’ll just have to wait it out. If the gods don’t want you to sneeze yet, it certainly isn’t going to happen.”

“Ugh.” Arkady massaged where his nose, eyes, and forehead met. “I’m not going to make for much of a host when I’m like this,” he grumbled, “but there’s not a lot of time left before Prince Ivar’s arrival. I just have to put up with it then?”

“Afraid so,” Jaga shrugged with her arms out to the sides. She then raised one hand up, swiveling her wrist to gesture somewhat lazily at the ceiling. “The gods will do as they will. But, sneezing or not, you have a job to do. It’s time we got back to readying for the entourage.”

“Right, right… Only two and a half hours to go.” Arkady stood up, going to ring the bell that would signal the attendant who helped him prepare and dress. Before he did, he called again to the Queen’s retreating back, “I’m sorry to have disappointed you.”

She stopped and did not look at him, but said back with soft reservation, “Arkady… I thought by now you understood the way of things.”

“I thought I did too,” Arkady said. “I guess I still have a lot to learn.”

The Queen did not respond to that or look at him, but she did not seem angry either. Only Jaga responded, with a sparkly-eyed look that the prince wasn’t quite sure how to decipher, before she too left the room.

__________________________________________________

Arkady did not advise trying to sneeze while someone was washing your hair. It was, unfortunately, now advice he could give based on personal experience. Wolfert was still apologizing as he brushed the deep brown strands, as sorry about his mistake as Arkady should have been for abusing his influence over the gods.

“I’m so, so sorry. I should have noticed,” Wolfert fretted for the sixth or seventh time.

“Ih-hih-hhhit’s fine-hUH! … This is g-going tooooh… k-k-keep happening, so, huh…” Arkady pinched his nose tight, massaging it in his fist. “Ugh… I may as well get used to… w-warning people about it.”

Arkady was trying to be reassuring, but now his nose itched and his sinuses felt singed. He’d had to sneeze in the middle of the bath, a possession which had hit him a hundredfold, almost as badly as when he’d had the feather in his nose. He’d had no time to warn Wolfert of the gathering urge before it had him yawning wide, nose scrunched back. And then, splash. A bucketful of water had cascaded over his soapy head, entering his lungs and making him choke and snort like a bull.

Since then, the tickle had escalated, no longer just a phantom urge. It felt like something was actually physically inside his nose, like a piece of dust or a hair, but no amount of snorting or nose blowing would resolve it. Arkady never imagined that water could cause such a response. All he knew was that it had made everything worse. Now there were no breaks from the huffing and fluttery talk. It was a feeling that constantly waxed and waned and brought him to the edge of the shore, only to drag him back out like a wicked undertow.

Everyone seemed to know about his predicament now too. No doubt his siblings had been gossiping with their attendants. Zlata, Pedja, and Svetlana each came into his bedchamber at one point, fully outfitted, to find out if he’d sneezed yet. They all lingered a bit after learning he hadn’t, too, as if wanting to be present when the dam finally burst. To them, his frantic breathing must sound as if he was very close to success, but by now Arkady knew better.

Wolfert was pinning up his hair (not the easiest task with a constantly fidgeting subject) when Vjera took her own turn in his room. “Dmitar told me you still haven’t sneezed! You poor thing!” she fretted, wringing her hands in front of her. “Are you going to be all right at dinner?”

Arkady struggled to smile, to reassure her. He could feel how very lopsided it was. “Prah… Probably not,” he managed. He rubbed his nose, which did almost nothing to help him speak. “I stih-stih-still-! Intend to b-be there-! No matter, hhhh…! Whuh-What.” He gave a hard sniffle, which caused his head to jerk, the comb to tug too hard, and the tickle to respond with absolute panic. Instantly, he was a mess of fits and starts, barely able to hear Wolfert’s “Sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry!” in the background. How was he going to make it through dinner without causing a scene? The answer was, he wasn’t. Usually Arkady would have taken absence from a formal meal under circumstances such as these, but Vjera was leaving tomorrow, and he wasn’t going to sacrifice any of the short time he had left with her.

It took a lot of pawing and nudging against a very upset nose, but Arkady finally managed to compose himself enough that he could somewhat speak again. “I-I’m going to try… not to be too obvious.” It was hard enough to say that with only a hint of a struggle. “I may not make f-f-fah, for a… a g-great host, but snf! I’ll at l-heast be… present.” At his sister’s pitying look, he hung his head and sighed, “Th-This is honestly the b… best I can do.”

“I know it is. That’s why I feel so sorry for you,” Vjera said. “It doesn’t bother me, I just feel awful is all. I don’t know why the gods would do this to you now of all times.”

Arkady wanted to explain, but it wouldn’t be right to say so in front of Wolfert. “I’m sure th… they have their-!” With a sudden, sharp inhale, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. It took a whole ten seconds for him to regain control. When he was able to see again, both Wolfert and Vjera were gazing down at him sadly. The suspense seemed to be killing everybody. Arkady could only finish lamely, “… Their reasons.”

When the Queen and all six of her progeny had been made to look their best, they began their procession to the outer courtyard with a small pack of guards in tow. It wasn’t long before Queen Cveta decided that Arkady wasn’t in the best of minds to navigate the stone steps leading down the mountain, and instructed him to meet them in the solarium for dinner instead. It was evening now, and their guests would surely want to sup as soon as they made it to the Plateau. Arkady had wanted to talk with Vjera on the way down, but he had to admit it just couldn’t be. Jaga looped her arm through his to help guide him back up the short distance he’d descended.

“How are you feeling, Prince?” she began by asking, a smile very present in her voice.

“Hehhh!” was all Arkady could manage at that particular moment.

Jaga cackled but tightened her grip on her swaying charge. “I’m glad I got a chance to chat with you privately. This may be very unorthodox of me to say, but I thought you ought to know: I don’t think Queen Cveta is correct. I stand by my original point. I think the gods are trying to protect you from something.”

Arkady brought his handkerchief up to his face. He couldn’t open his eyes or keep pace so well. “Ahhah… O-Oh-kah-kay…!”

“Are you going to sneeze?” Jaga sounded as curious as a she-cat.

Arkady shook his head rapidly, sure he looked to all the world like a person about to absolutely collapse sneezing. He had stopped hoping that the sneeze was about to come, because that only lead to discouragement. “D-Do me a favor,” he gasped after coming down from the tickle’s latest crest. “Don’t ask me if I’m about to sneeze. I’m not.”

“Very well,” Jaga said, almost soothingly, or at least it was coming from her. “It does seem to be worse than earlier, though, doesn’t it? Perhaps the moment is soon to arrive.”

“Don’t try to lift my hopes,” Arkady sighed as they approached the doors of the main palace and went inside. “And I have no idea what a sneeze could protect me from. It really f-feels… It f-fuh… It… It feels lihihi…” Arkady shut one eye tight, the other half-open, trying to talk past the tickle since it kept insisting on interrupting him. “Feels mah-more… like a… p… HA!” His enormous gasp filled the vaulted ceiling and echoed down around them. It was so spontaneously loud and poignant that for one bright moment, Arkady thought, Oh gods it really is here this time, and swung his head back to accept it. But he should have known better. It was just another fluke, set up seemingly to break his spirit.

“This is agony,” he groaned. “This whole day. It shouldn’t have been about this—” His hand gestured a circle in the air before his nose “—it should have been about saying goodbye to Vjera. I have no idea when I’ll see her again. And she needed my support, but I was too busy to offer it properly.” Arkady paused. “She doesn’t want to go, Jaga. You know that. When she came to you with the stomachache this morning, you knew that, too.” Jaga’s eyes were somewhat downcast. “And she wouldn’t open up to you either, would she? It’s all because of the way things are. The way they have to be for kings and queens and princes and princesses. You learn to keep everything inside, so that your people never have to see it, but then when do you let it go? When does Vjera let it go? It can’t keep building up forever, it can’t stay inside forever. But has it ever for her? If she won’t even tell me how she feels, who will she tell? Eventually, the truth has to come out. Doesn’t it? And maybe I could have convinced Vjera to tell me it, if I only I didn’t have this stupid…” Arkady trailed off.

The whole hall went quiet. Jaga reached out to him. “Prince–”

Arkady placed his hand on her shoulder unsteadily, breath chuffing. “Jaga, I’m going to sneeze…”

“Oh? Are you?” The witch rooted herself in place to better support him. “Isn’t that curious...”

Like a tidal wave, his sneeze seemed at last to be gathering itself for something momentous. Arkady felt blind and helpless beneath it; he was blind and helpless beneath it. His eyes were closed so tightly that a thousand tiny suns seemed to be exploding against his lids, but he couldn’t pay them any mind due to the reason his eyes were closed in the first place. Oh gods, the tickle. It was surely divine. It felt larger than him, larger than anything his body could have concocted or handled on its own, and he was at its mercy. It occurred to him, with sudden dread, that it was too much for him to handle, that, though it seemed to lick every sensitive part of his sinuses at once with fiery tongues, a sneeze could not possibly be born from such overpowering stimulation. His lungs pushed his chest out to its farthest as they took in every bit of air they could hold. He couldn’t move. He was absolutely frozen with the desire to sneeze.

Seconds ticked by, ten aching, unreal seconds of miserable itching. And at the end of it, still Arkady didn’t sneeze.

He wasn’t going to sneeze. Not yet. It was as if the gods were saying, Trust us. We know what we’re doing.

Arkady gasped as his lungs seemed to remember how to work. His eyes popped open wide, his senses returning to him. He turned slowly to look down at Jaga; her eyes were wide too. He realized then how much he must have been relying on her to keep on his feet. He swallowed, wrinkled his nose, and then wrinkled it even more when he realized just how badly his nostrils wanted a good rub for all their trouble.

Jaga didn’t chuckle at this display. “This is serious,” she said quietly. He had never heard her so sobered.

Arkady smudged the heel of his hand under his nose vigorously. “I think you’re right, but I also can’t imagine how or why it could be serious.”

“Allow me to join you at dinner tonight,” Jaga went on as if she didn’t hear him. “The moment you sneeze is going to be meaningful, I can tell. I should be with you when it happens, so I can assess what caused it.”

“Gods, I hope it happens at dinner,” Arkady had just finished saying when the doors to the main hall opened, and in poured the Derevo entourage.

The man that Vjera was arm-in-arm with must have been Prince Ivar. He was tall and handsome and brown-haired and his eyes were large, inviting. He was laughing and smiling down at Arkady’s sister warmly. He wore a green coat covered in black and gold embroidery, and there was a sash around his waist that held a sheathed knife to his middle. Vjera smiled at her betrothed too. They were still twenty feet away, so Arkady couldn’t be sure, but he hoped the grin on her face was a genuine one.

Jaga released Arkady so that he could bow and kneel before their guest. “Prince Ivar, w-welcome. I hope your travels went well. I am sorry that I was unable to, hh… meet you at the entrance.”

“Stand, please! I’m not used to these formalities from other royals, and I understand you are feeling under the weather.” Prince Ivar’s voice was like a newly-minted coin. “Where I come from, it is the servants and guardsmen who bow when royalty passes them by.”

Upon hearing that, Jaga, a bit confused but wanting to show a good impression, sunk down on one knee.

Arkady stood then, deciding too it was best not to say anything, but secretly wondering If he is my family’s guest, why would Jaga bow to him?

He shook the other prince’s hand, but immediately after felt his face begin to quirk in the same way it had all day. Vjera swiftly took the attention off her brother. “You and your entourage must be hungry after your travels. Why don’t we have your belongings delivered to your lodgings while we have dinner?”

Prince Ivar responded with approval, but Arkady could scarcely pay attention to his words, because his nose was going absolutely wild, and Jaga was once again tasked to keep him from toppling over.

“Hh-! Hh-ha! Jahh, Jagahh… HEH! Do yah, you h-h-have… Hhhh… A k-kerchief I could… Hhhh…” His nose was running in some far-back place, and it was hindering far more than it was helping.

“Easy, easy,” she said, as his breathing returned to some approximation of control, and handed him the cloth. Arkady blew into it. It helped a bit, but not at all to the degree he would have liked. “Prince, do I have your permission to join you in the solarium? I won’t take a place at the table. I merely want to observe.”

Arkady nodded with his eyes closed. His voice would not be reliable until he got the sneeze out—whenever that would be. As he continued to touch at his nose, Jaga guided him forward.

The dining table was long enough to host thirty people at once, which was useful considering the size of Prince Ivar’s party. Ivar sat directly opposite Queen Cveta, at the other end of the table, with Vjera to his left to keep him company. Arkady was torn, wanting to sit to Prince Ivar’s right in order to get to know him better, but also not wanting to spend formalities dithering with this sneeze. Seeing as he was already dithering with a sneeze, though, Jaga was in charge of directing him and decided he should sit with his mother and two youngest siblings at their end. He supposed it was for the best that Prince Ivar didn’t have to hear him wheezing. It worked out well for Zlata and Pedja, anyway, who were significantly more interested in witnessing their brother’s sneeze than making heads or tails of adult small talk.

“You still didn’t sneeze, right? I didn’t miss it?” Zlata asked in an excited whisper as her eldest brother sat next to her.

“Your deepest and most sincere condolences are more appreciated than you will ever know,” Arkady said.

Zlata looked away quickly and looked back. “Wellll… you didn’t, right?”

As another exhale stuttered out of him, Arkady gave her watery look that hopefully said, Gee, do you think?

Jaga was standing against the wall behind him, arms folded politely behind her back. He could feel her eyes on him too. How badly everyone wanted to be there for the eventual arrival of this sneeze. How badly they must think that, with each poignant, biting gasp, he was about to succumb to this almighty irritation. Arkady no longer let himself believe the torment was about to end. If he did, he would break his own spirit a hundred times over. He did, however, begin to accept its presence. Whether there to help or hinder, it was the doing of the gods that he feel this way. He would just have to trust their judgment.

It wasn’t until the fish dumpling soup was brought out that Arkady recognized just how hungry he was. He realized, too, how tricky the task of eating becomes when needing to sneeze as badly as he did. Even if he didn’t believe the sneeze was really coming yet, it felt dangerous to have a hot mouthful of broth when his body so vehemently wanted him to be working out this tickle. He shook his head against it and grimaced long enough that some of the guests were starting to notice one of their hosts was pulling the strangest faces imaginable, duck his chin though he might.

“Are you all right, Prince Arkady?” called the voice of a stranger.

Arkady could only wave in the direction of the speaker. He put his napkin around his face to hide his latest grimace. This was embarrassing…

“He’s all right, he just can’t sneeze,” Arkady heard Zlata explain in his stead. He looked at her weakly out of his peripherals. He didn’t feel all right: he felt like he wanted to fall asleep and wake up completely sneezeless.

“Hmm. That sounds like Ilari’s doing,” came another response from the Derevo entourage.

“Huh-!” Arkady couldn’t help gasping audibly, earning some chuckles from around the room.

“I’m sorry for you, friend,” Prince Ivar called next. “I want to say ‘Ilari is with you’ but it seems more likely that he’s somewhere else entirely.”

More laughter. Arkady tried to laugh too, which wasn’t the most difficult when his breathing already sounded a bit like that. A smile was hard to hold though, and he found himself tucking back into his napkin for whatever privacy he could salvage.

The voice that came next was sterner. “Prince Ivar is right. Ilari is not with this young man anymore. He must have done something to deserve punishment.”

That comment seemed to make the air a bit cold. Prince Ivar was the one to restore the happy atmosphere. “Says the old bat who skipped prayer this morning to catch a few extra winks! Cheer up, Sacha, have more wine. Which reminds me—I brought plenty of wine from our vineyards, too. They say there’s no other like it in all Vyshtopa, after all. Sacha, why don’t you go fetch it? I’m sure one of the guards would be happy to direct you to where they’re keeping our carts.”

Sacha was quiet for a moment. Then he stood carefully to his feet. “… Certainly. Apologies for my outburst, Queen Cveta.”

Arkady wasn’t sure how his mother handled the situation, because he was then overcome by a tickle of such proportions that none in the solarium could ignore his desperate, “Hh-huhhuh, htz, hdT-! HEHT-! … … … shiew…”

At that noise, all dialogue paused, until Prince Ivar had to ask, “Was that… a sneeze?”

“No,” Arkady choked out, and the air was full of collective groans of sympathy or mild laughter. Arkady mopped at his eyes with his napkin. He didn’t really like being the center of attention over anything, let alone this, and tried to focus on why he was even forcing himself to be at dinner in the first place. He glanced over at Vjera to see her conversing with her future husband. She caught his eye a moment later, looked at him with mild worry. Arkady wanted to smile, to assuage her, but a newly budding sneeze was already turning his mouth into a deep, harsh frown. He blew his nose and tried not to think about how much he wanted to leave. Building up to a sneeze this much was starting to tire him out…

“There we are! Thank you, Sacha.” Next thing he knew, the wine had been delivered, Prince Ivar himself pouring the dark liquid. “The first glass should go to Prince Arkady, I do believe. It’s strong stuff. It might just knock that wicked sneeze out of you!”

That was a nice idea. Arkady had his doubts it would be the case. Still, he gratefully accepted the beverage when it was delivered to him, wanting very much to show his guests that he was made for more than entertainment.

The wine was like liquid velvet. Its color was akin to the darkest blood. Asking his nose to quiet down and behave for just a moment, Arkady brought his lips to the rim of the glass…

Immediately, like a live thing, the tickle fought him.

It was like a hornet’s nest crashing to the earth and the entire swarm billowing up at once. That was the only way to describe the way in which the sneeze was now treating him. His head jerked away from the glass instinctively, snatching a huge breath through his nose. There was nothing coy about this feeling. It wasn’t the dipping, darting butterfly of a sneeze that had been flitting about his sinuses all day, but a dagger, poised to strike. A dagger hovering right over his heart. But a dagger was harmless until it pierced flesh…

Arkady opened his eyes, his vision swirling with tears. The wine could have been blood. Could it be a dagger?

Again he brought his lips to the glass. His nose touched the opposite rim.

And that’s when he knew he was going to sneeze.

The lessons of a prince were deeply ingrained. On any normal day, Arkady would have stopped this sneeze by rubbing his tongue against his front teeth until its tang lessened. Even if it were strong, he would have fought it off with all his might, because that was what you did when you were royalty. But that didn’t matter anymore. There was no way Arkady was going to let it get away from him now. All day, he had been putting up with this. All day, he had begged and pleaded for something to happen. If his body was really allowing this long-awaited event to happen, no force in the world could hold him back. This sneeze might as well be the strongest force in the world.

And suddenly, in Arkady’s mind, there was no world. There was only the sneeze.

“Hhh!”

It was right there.

“Hah-!”

It was right there.

“HhhHA-AH!”

It was right there, right on the edge, bristling like a mad thing-

“KUH-HUHHT! HAAAHH-AA! … … … AAAATTSSCCCHHHIIIUUU!!”

And then, it was out. At last, it was out.

Oh, sweet relief.

One would not be enough. As soon as the first was free, its entourage came right after, bringing with them just as much relief as their prince. “AHHHht’SHAO! K’SHOO! Huh-SHKSH! K’SH-! SHOO! H’ehshESH! K’kehsh! H’ehsh…! … SHOO!”

Ten would not be enough. Each sneeze was like a balm to the raw insides his nose had become. Never had he known such a persistent itch, and finally it was being scratched, scratched, scratched, from the back to the front with sneezes like raking fingers. “AhppSHOO! Hh-huSHOO! -shIEW! Ekk-shoo!ksh’ksh’ksh-SHOO! EPSH! H’hek’SHH! Ah’KSH! Hh! Hut-TCHOO! Hyet-! … tsCHOO! A’chshoo! Snf! Huh! H’kt��tschoo! K’TSCHOO! K-K’SCH! K-k-Keh!HETCH! Ah..! AHPSH! H’psh! Kuh-huh! H’ktshoo-h-hh’tsh!TSH!TSH!”

Thirty would not be enough. Arkady was more than happy to let his senses take over and, sneeze after sneeze, loosen the shackles of his misery. At some point, he had remembered his napkin (or maybe someone had pressed it into his hands—he was completely oblivious to the rest of the world now) and sneezing into that felt even better. He buried his nose into the folds, and it ached wonderfully. “Hehh… Hehhh… Phew…” This time the sneezes weren’t sticking so much as they were giving him a chance to breathe. His nose wouldn’t keep him from reprieve for longer than it needed to. “Heh’et-SHAhh! Het’sha! Het-t-t-SHOO! Kuh’hehSHOO! HehSHOO! H’shoo! H’sh, h’sh, h’sh, h’sh, huh-! hhhH! HUT-SHHHKKSH! SH’KSH! Hef’SHAH! Nnnn’SHEH! Neh’sheh! NnnnSHEH! Hehchh! HehhCHhuh! H-hHeh! Shhhehtch-tch-tch-tch-tch!TCHOO!”

Fifty would not be enough. His nose would not be satisfied until it had thoroughly banished this itch forever. They kept coming, one after another after another after another, feeling so necessary yet indulgent all at once. He gave into them completely, even as he started losing steam. “Shoo! K’shoo! Heh… hehh… hehtnnNn-!…SHOO! Huh-shoo! Huhsh-shoo…! Huhhsh…. Shhoo… Shoo, sh-sh-shoo… Snf! K’shh’nghshh… Huh… Snf… Heh! Snf, snf! Shhuhhuh… Shhuhhehuh…! Hehhhuhhhuhhhh…!”

There was one more floaty bit of something ever-so-carefully teasing him at the very back of his nose. Arkady snuffled against it, trying to spark a reaction. It was only a little one… Surely he could muster one more little one… Then he could be done with this itch for good. Sleepily pleading with his nose to grant him a final sneeze, just one small snortish huff to bluster out that last bit of tickling, that floaty feeling seemed to fluff up and fill the whole of his head with an absolutely merciless itch.

Without meaning to, without feeling any sort of control over himself, Arkady rocked on his chair’s hind legs, threw back his head, and crowed out a very finalizing, “AhhHHHH! Ha-AH!…HET’HAHT-KSHAHHH!”

And then dizzily, drowsily, Arkady’s shoulders drooped, and he sighed a long sigh. His nose was finally, finally at peace. Tired, running a bit, and even a little sore, but at peace.

He must have sneezed for about ten minutes. During the entire hypnotic event, Arkady had heard nothing but his own voice, and now that it was absent, it donned on him just how… oddly the voices around him were pitched. It sounded like arguing. How peculiar… now that his brain was coming back to him, Arkady realized that laughter or silence was a more explicable response. Just what was going on?

He opened his eyes. Desperate tears immediately spilled out, and he had to wipe them on the unused part of his napkin for quite a bit. Once that was finished, Arkady got his first good look of the dining room…

… A majority of which was obscured by a bevy of royal guards, swords drawn and poised in a semicircle around his chair.

Arkady turned side to side rapidly. Queen Cveta was gone from her place at the the table, and so was Pedja, who had been sitting across from him. To his left began the guards, and directly behind him was Jaga, a hand on his chair, smiling wanly down at him.

“Well, well. Seems Ilari is with you after all. Feeling better, Prince Arkady?” she asked, in a taut voice barely hinted with her patented humor.

Arkady still had the napkin around his nose. “Um,” he said from behind it, “what’s going on?”

Jaga gave a single bitter laugh. “The tea never lies,” she said. “Something important did happen today, Prince, and it wasn’t your sister’s betrothal. There was an attempt on your life.”

That was the last thing he had expected. Arkady’s eyes widened. “Wait… Then Mother… Pedja—”

“Are fine,” Jaga filled in quickly. “And so are you, thanks to the gods.” She held up a wine glass, which Arkady realized had been his own. “This,” she said, “is poisoned. I took it from you as soon as you started sneezing. You’re only alive because you couldn’t drink it.” She studied the red liquid. “You’re only alive,” she said distantly, “because the gods willed it so.”

__________________________________________________

An entire week passed before Vjera saw her brother again. Queen Cveta had ordered that he spend that entire time praying: three days fasting, the following four without, but no visitors to interrupt. Vjera and the rest of her family were required to pray too, but not as intensely. Arkady was, according to their mother, currently in the gods’ highest favor, and therefore it was especially necessary that he thank them profusely for his life and ask that Gornoye find a way to reach peace with Derevo.

Queen Cveta left the prayers to her children; she had always been more engaged in the political side of her job, though technically the guard was meant to be in charge of such decisions. Vjera spent her days trying to find out what she could about Prince Ivar: if he had orchestrated the attack on her brother, or if only that angry fellow Sacha had been behind it. Either way, the betrothal was off. Vjera couldn’t say that part exactly disappointed her.

The poison in the wine Arkady had almost drank was slow-acting and difficult to detect. Jaga would not have suspected poison at all, if the sneezing hadn’t alerted her to trouble. It was only after Jaga voiced her suspicions that Queen Cveta asked Sacha to drink; and when he refused, everything had seemed to erupt. Jaga had been working most of the week to even determine what Sacha had used as a toxin. Vjera wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the ways in which the poison would have hurt Arkady. The thought of how close her brother had been to death made her heart pound enough as it was.

At the end of his week of prayers, Vjera was there to greet Arkady outside his bedroom. It was early, and the sky was pink. When he saw her, he looked relieved; for both of them, it seemed seeing was believing, and it was nice to finally have proof the other was all right. They embraced, and then immediately began talking as they walked down the verandah steps.

“You weren’t hurt, were you? You were so close to Ivar. He didn’t try anything, did he?”

“Me? Nothing happened to me; it’s you who was threatened.”

“I don’t really feel like I was,” Arkady admitted. His face looked thinner from the three-day fast. “I suppose that still hasn’t really sunk in. I thanked the gods over and over, but I’m not sure how sincere I sounded. I don’t even know what would have happened if they hadn’t intervened.”

“You would have died,” Vjera said. “And maybe we would have never known why.”

“Then you would have been the heir apparent, and Prince Ivar would have had a good reason to merge the kingdoms,” Arkady said, as if he were reciting it. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot these days.”

“I’ve been thinking about that too much these days,” Vjera sighed. “We may go to war with Derevo over this. For a moment, I want to stop worrying and just be grateful you’re alive…” Her voice broke off at the end.

Arkady paused, put a hand on her shoulder. “I haven’t gone anywhere, Vjera. And neither have you. We have our family. We’re going to be all right.”

She leaned into his hug again, but it was cut short when she felt him try to pull away only seconds later. There was something curiously familiar about the action… and sure enough, when Arkady was far enough away to see his face clearly, his expression was a snarled mask not unlike the one he’d modeled only seven days ago.

“Hhuhhh… hhehhthh…”

He wavered there, his head bobbing once, twice, before snapping down with a modest, “Hef’SHOO!”

Once it was out, his shoulders drooped considerably, and he rubbed a hand across his face. “Oh, thank goodness… For a second, I was worried all that was about to start up again…”

Vjera couldn’t help laughing a bit. “Even after it saved your life?”

“Hey,” Arkady defended with a smirk, “if you knew what it felt like, you wouldn’t want it to happen again either.”

Vjera shook her head. They kept walking. “How did it feel to finally sneeze after all that time, anyway?” she asked, needing a little levity.

Arkady winced, frowning. It was as if he were reliving the ordeal. “It felt like I had been tied in a knot all day and I’d finally been loosened. Or like there had been something unbalanced inside of me and it was balancing again. It wasn’t exactly a good feeling… but it also felt absolutely amazing… Am I making any sense?”

Vjera raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying it was worth the wait?”

Arkady snorted a laugh. “It had to be worth the wait,” he said, “because if it hadn’t been, I would have just gone and downed that whole glass of wine.”

#snz kink #sneeze kink #snz fiction #I don't know what tags people use haha #it's male btw

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

Text

[After learning that Fred and George had spotted Jacob near Hogwarts, Carewyn did some digging. Eventually she heard from Filch that Jacob had been spotted in the library (after the caretaker lugged her into his office demanding that she confess to setting off a Dungbomb in the Gryffindor Common Room -- Carewyn acquiesced just to get him off the subject), and Carewyn followed up with Madame Pince.

Jacob had been looking for something in particular -- since he didn’t find it at the Hogwarts library, there was logically only one place he’d go. But when Carewyn made it to Flourish and Blotts, Madame Villanelle told her that she’d just missed him. Desperate not to let the trail go cold, Carewyn knew there was only one thing to do -- she had to make a quick sweep around both Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley...even if she didn’t have time to change clothes so she wouldn’t stand out.

And so, very, very warily, Carewyn walked through the arch leading to Knockturn Alley, her hand holding her wand inside of her pocket. In her powder blue Beauxbatons suit, she knew she stuck out like a sore thumb. Worse, people would be able to remember seeing her -- Carewyn -- having gone into Knockturn Alley. She didn’t like the thought of random bystanders knowing that she frequented such a place: at least when she changed her hair and make-up, most people wouldn’t know who she was right away, so there was a level of anonymity involved. Going into Knockturn Alley without a disguise made Carewyn feel exposed and oddly vulnerable.

As soon as she arrived, she stiffened at the sight of a familiar face peeking into the window of Borgin and Burkes.]

“Merula? What are you doing here?”

[Merula turned around. She looked a little startled to see Carewyn, but recovered quickly.]

Merula: “Shopping -- not that it’s any of your business.”

[She indicated the ornate opal necklace displayed in the window with her head.]

Merula: “See that? It’s supposedly claimed the lives of nineteen Muggle owners...reckon it’d be perfect for a certain ex-professor, don’t you think?”

[Carewyn frowned in unmasked disapproval.]

“Still plotting to kill Rakepick, I see.”

Why can’t you just look after yourself and stay out of the way?

[Merula scowled.]

Merula: “You’re awfully quick to judge, considering you’re slumming around down here too.”

[Her pink gaze then became a bit more curious.]

[Carewyn was reluctant to tell Merula anything, but she decided after a moment that lying wouldn’t help too much in this situation. After all, if Merula knew anything, then Carewyn wanted to know what she knew. So instead she kept her answer concise, so as to lie by omission.]

“...I heard from Madame Villanelle that Jacob was in Flourish and Blotts earlier. I thought there was a chance he could still be in the area. Have you see him?”

[All of a sudden there was a loud CRACK just behind the two girls. Both of them gave a start, whirling around -- Carewyn seized her wand, ready to whip it out of her pocket and attack --

But her hand stilled inside her pocket when she saw who had appeared.

Standing mere feet from them was a young man dressed in stylish scarlet dress robes with long, curly dark hair and distinctive almond-shaped blue eyes just like Carewyn’s.]

[Carewyn, however, completely ignored Merula.]

“Jacob!”

[She immediately barreled forward, grabbing onto both of her older brother’s arms.]

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

[Jacob gave her a blazing white smile.]

Jacob: “Looking all over while dressed in sweet threads, I see -- where’d you get a Beauxbatons uniform, Pip?”

“A friend gave it to me. She goes to Beauxbatons.”

Jacob: “(interested) Really? I hope I can meet her at some point. Got a few questions I’d love to ask about her school’s architecture -- not to mention its alchemy curriculum. Oh, and I’ve heard very interesting things about its headmistress -- reckon an afternoon tea with her would be rather illuminating...”

[His eyes drifted away toward the sky as he spoke, as was often the case when he was thinking.

It was almost comforting to hear Jacob going off on one of his usual tangents. Being an ex-Ravenclaw, Jacob lived in his own little world and very frequently could get sidetracked with his never-ending amount of interests and lofty ambitions. Still, Carewyn knew that in this moment, it wouldn’t do for Jacob to lose his head like a flyaway balloon -- and so she tried to bring him back down to earth.]

“(reproachfully) Jacob, where have you been? I haven’t seen you since the Cursed Vault. You never sent any letters, or left any notes...Hell, even passed along any messages for me!”

I was worried sick about you. I thought that you could’ve gotten yourself killed, after I only just finished saving you --

[She didn’t dare verbalize this, though, especially in front of Merula.

Jacob’s smile faltered, and his face immediately looked much more ashamed. Despite the guilt in his face, his voice was very low and firm.]

Jacob: “...I know, Pip. I’m sorry I ran off, but I had to try to stop Rakepick from getting away.”

[Carewyn looked down, her eyes resting absently on one of the golden buttons of Jacob’s scarlet coat.]

Jacob: “(grimly) Carewyn...I know you want things to go back to normal...but they can’t. Not as long as R exists. (murmurs) I swear to you, I wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t important.”

[Carewyn closed her eyes solemnly.

She’d already accepted that things couldn’t be the way they were. Jacob’s second disappearance had smacked her in the face with that. But she also was painfully aware of the company they were in (namely, Merula) and knew she couldn’t say anything about her intention to find the last Vault -- to help Mad-Eye Moody while he dealt with R -- so that Jacob could come home.]

“(very softly) ...I know.”

[When she opened her eyes and looked up, she could see Jacob’s eyes had softened visibly, almost nostalgically. It was looking at his eyes that made Carewyn all the more painfully aware of how hollowed-out they looked -- how deep and dark the bags around his eyes were. It made his face look so haunted, even as his mouth unfurled into its familiar cocky smile.]

Jacob: “Don’t worry, Pip...I’ll get it all sorted. I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

[Carewyn wanted to say something snarky in return, like she would’ve in the past, but once again, she knew there was much more important things to say -- things she couldn’t say in front of Merula.]

“I know you can. Come on, let’s get out of here -- we have a lot to talk about -- ”

[Jacob’s face grew much more grim again.]

Jacob: “I’m sorry, but there’s no time for that. Right now, you and I need to duel.��

[Carewyn was taken aback.]

“What?”

[Merula’s face spread into a very wide, intrigued smirk as she crossed her arms.]

Merula: “Finally, this family reunion’s gotten interesting.”

[Carewyn wasn’t even in the mood to snap at Merula -- her focus was solely on Jacob, and her gaze was very critical.]

[Jacob had already turned his back on Carewyn and started taking his ten paces from her, so as to get in dueling position.]

Jacob: “There’s a dangerous person who’s set his eyes on you. Merula too, actually.”

[Now it was Merula’s turn to look startled.]

Merula: “Me?”

Jacob: “Afraid so.”

[He turned on his heel again, sliding his white Aspen wand out of his robes and holding it in front of him as he faced Carewyn.]

Jacob: “I won’t always be there to protect you, Pip, so I need to make sure you’ll be ready, if he ever tries to corner you.”

[Carewyn’s eyes narrowed. She did not take out her wand.]

“Who is this person? What does he want with Merula and me?”

[The memory of Mundungus Fletcher telling her about a wizard in white robes -- of Madame Villanelle recalling that Mahoutokoro students’ robes went white when they turned to the Dark Arts -- rippled over her mind.]

Jacob: “(firmly) There’s no time to explain. Right now I just need you to trust me...okay?”

Trust...you have no idea how impossible that is, do you? All because you...

[Shoving down the memory of her mother and herself huddled up on the floor together sobbing inconsolably from her mind, Carewyn very reluctantly took out her wand and got into her proper dueling stance.

Jacob’s face spread into another wide, cocky smile.]

Jacob: “(earnestly) That’s my Pip.”

[Jacob wasn’t standing in the kind of “proper” stance that she was -- he held his wand over his chest with amazing swagger and confidence.]

Jacob: “Give me all you’ve got, now. Forget you’re dueling me -- pretend you’re fighting Rakepick.”

[Merula leaned up against the window of Borgin and Burke’s, her arms still crossed over her chest.]

Merula: “You hear that, Cromwell? It’s kill or be killed.”

[Carewyn shot her a cool look.]

“I’m not interested in killing anyone, Merula.”

I don’t care how awful they are.

Jacob: “(seriously) She’s right, though. The people targeting you will kill you, if they get the chance. You can’t give them that chance -- so you have to do whatever you need to, to survive.”

[Merula smiled, looking rather vindicated.]

Merula: “Well! At least someone in your family has sense.”

[Carewyn tried to ignore her. Jacob’s face eased back into his usual, cocky smile.]

Jacob: “I’m not going to go easy on you, Pip -- so come at me! Kick my arse, got it?”

[Carewyn gave a short nod, trying not to look as hesitant as she felt.]

Jacob: “On the count of three, now. One...two...three!”

“Stupefy!”

Jacob: “Substituo!”

[All of a sudden, a lamp post that had been several yards away had been moved to directly in front of Jacob, and Carewyn’s spell bounced right off it.]

Jacob: “Locomotor Lamppost!”

[Within seconds, Jacob had chucked the lamppost right at his sister. It collided with her chest, knocking her off her feet and throwing her to the ground.]

“AUGH!”

[Jacob dashed to the right, his wand over his chest. His face was consumed with his usual cocky smile.]

Jacob: “Switching Spell combination! Neat, right? Engorgio! Duro!”

[The lamppost swelled up like some infected limb, morphing and contorting into some round, boulder-like mass of iron and glass.]

Jacob: “Collyrida!”

[The iron and glass boulder began rolling down the street, straight for Carewyn. Climbing back up onto her feet, she lashed her wand at the air.]

“Bombarda!”

[The boulder was blasted into a hundred pieces, throwing smoke and ash into the air. Carewyn plowed through the smoke, thinking to use it as a screen to get closer to Jacob.]

“Cantus!”

Jacob: “Accio Glass!”

[Jacob retrieved one of the larger fragments of glass and used it to bounce Carewyn’s spell right back at her, forcing her to summon a Shield to protect herself.]

“Protego!”

[Merula watched the two siblings go at it from the sidelines, her pink eyes very wide upon Jacob.]

Merula: “(stunned) Whoa.”

[Jacob was grinning from ear to ear at Carewyn.]

Jacob: “The Singing Jinx -- too perfect for you, Pip!”

[Carewyn, however, was way too focused on their duel now to talk.]

“Incarcerous!”

Jacob: “Cordavitta!”

[The black ropes that Carewyn threw out of her wand were transfigured into beautiful, flowing rainbow-colored ribbons that floated innocently to the ground.]

Jacob: “Use all your tools, Pip! Dueling spells are lovely and all, but everyone knows those! Vitta Vipera!”

[The rainbow ribbons abruptly twisted together and transformed into a single, massive cobra, which bared its fangs at Carewyn. Her heart racing with fear, Carewyn backed up, racking her brain -- ]

“V-Vipera Evanesca!”

[A blast of light hit the snake, making it dissolve away into a writhing line of gray smoke.]

Jacob: “(excitedly) Yes! Sicafumos!”

[The smoke that had once been snakes abruptly transformed into a hail of daggers hurtling through the air. Carewyn struggled to dodge them, but one sliced through her hair, just barely missing her ear.]

Jacob: “Good move, Pip! Don’t give up now, come on!”

[Carewyn dashed around Jacob, trying to stay out of his reach as she struggled to think up a strategy.

Jacob hadn’t used a single classic “Dueling Spell” since they’d started. Everything he’d used was something he must’ve learned in class or in a textbook -- most notably Transfiguration, which had always been Carewyn’s most difficult subject...]

Use all my tools, huh...?

[Carewyn knew she couldn’t compete with Jacob’s spell knowledge -- he easily knew more spells than she did. But maybe...

Remembering a trick she’d used in a duel with Bill, she aimed her wand at the ground at Jacob’s feet.]

“Bombarda!”

Jacob: “Crescomurus!”

[Jacob expanded the wall of a nearby building to create a shield to protect himself. However, since Carewyn had been aiming for his feet rather than properly at him, the ground broke apart, slamming Jacob off his feet and roughly in to the ground.]

Jacob: “Ugh!”

[Carewyn slashed her wand at the lengthened wall Jacob had created.]

“Reducto!”

[The wall blasted into pieces, leaving nothing but a smoky mist behind. She used the mist as cover to get closer -- Jacob, however, had already rolled onto his knees and raised his wand again.]

Jacob: “Sicofumos!”

[Once again, the smoky mist transfigured into daggers, but this time, Carewyn was ready.]

“Reparifarge!”

[In an instant, she’d undone Jacob’s Transfiguration, and the dozen knives faded away into dust again, grazing her skin and clothes with a light puff.

Carewyn noted a limp in Jacob’s step as he straightened up -- he’d landed on his ankle funny, when she’d thrown him to the ground -- ]

“Levicorpus!”

[Jacob was suddenly snatched up by his ankle and hoisted up into the air.]

Jacob: “Ack!”

“Immobulus!”

Jacob: “Carpe Retractum!”

[Jacob yanked a jagged fragment of brick out of the ground under his head, hoisting it up in front of him like a shield to block Carewyn’s spell.]

Jacob: “(fiercely) Yes, yes, YES! That’s it! Finite!”

[He fell back to the ground in a messy heap and stumbled back onto his feet.]

Jacob: “Avis!”

[A flock of angry-looking birds flew out of Jacob’s wand, straight at Carewyn.]

“Evanesco!”

[As quickly as her brother had conjured them, they’d disappeared.

Jacob suddenly looked overwhelmed by his excitement, his eyes brightening with positively boyish glee.]

Jacob: “You mastered Vanishing!”

[Carewyn knew why he was excited. Jacob had mentioned in one of his letters during his OWLs that Vanishing was one of the hardest branches of Transfiguration -- and sure enough, it was something she’d had to work very, very hard at to get right.

She couldn’t fight back a tiny, proud grin.]

“Got all O’s, just like you...”

[Jacob looked like he wanted to throw down his wand and hug her -- but Carewyn sure as Hell wasn’t going to let that momentary distraction pass her by.]

“Gliseo!”

[The ground under Jacob’s feet abruptly froze solid. With a yelp, Jacob slid right off his feet.]

“Depulso!”

Jacob: “Substituo!”

[In a second, Jacob had vanished, leaving a rubbish bin in his place. Carewyn looked around, trying to figure out where he’d Switched himself to -- ]

Jacob: “Fulgari!”

[Hearing Jacob’s voice behind her, Carewyn whirled around -- she quickly stowed her wand inside her jacket --

Just before Jacob’s glowing yellowish-white ropes could bind her, Carewyn had transformed into a robin. Taking flight, she soared over Jacob’s head.]

[Jacob gawked up at his little sister, his mouth open in shock, as Carewyn transformed back into a human in mid-air. As she quickly started to fall, she whipped out her wand again and pointed it at the ground.]

“Spongify!”

[She bounced back down to the ground as easily as if she’d landed on a trampoline. Still visibly stunned, Jacob began lashing out at Carewyn in turns, his mouth spreading into a positively manic grin.]

Jacob: “Venio Saggita! You’re an Animagus, Pip!?”

“Evanesco! Ugh...yes, I am!”

Jacob: “(positively bouncing) DUDE! Fulgari!”

[Carewyn evaded Jacob’s blast of light by ducking behind a wall. Jacob’s ankle was clearly still hurting him a bit -- he’d stayed rather stationary since she landed that hit on him --

She pointed her wand to her own chest.]

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

[As planned, when Jacob’s next spell collided with the wall, Carewyn had perfectly dodged it. Hovering over the spell, she aimed her wand down at her brother.]

“Stupefy!”

[Jacob looked up, startled.]

Jacob: “Stupefy!”

[The two Stunners collided in mid-air, canceling each other out in a small scarlet boom.]

Jacob: “(with a huge, cocky grin) Now, Pip, you’re supposed to look up to me, not the other way around! Conripio!”

[A rope burst out of his wand, winding around Carewyn’s leg. Jacob gave a yank and Carewyn yelped as she felt herself being pulled sharply back down to Earth.]

“Diffindo!”

[Just before she reached the ground, she successfully cut the rope Jacob had conjured. She landed roughly in a heap, but she forced down the aches in her shoulders and sides as she leapt back onto her feet.]

Jacob: “Ectomatic! Aqua Eructo!”

[Although she was able to block his first spell with a Scouring Charm, Carewyn wasn’t quite fast enough to avoid getting splashed with a gush of water from Jacob’s wand. Fortunately, as much as she didn’t like that her clothes and hair had gotten all wet, she was feeling much too competitive and focused to dwell on it.

Unfortunately Jacob used the water on her to get the upper-hand.]

Jacob: “Glacius Duo!”

[Carewyn felt her wet clothes suddenly constricting and her body suddenly chilling -- she raised her wand, trying to counterattack --

But it was no use. Jacob had used the water on her to encase her limbs in a thick layer of ice, making her unable to move.

Jacob lowered his wand at last, walking slowly over to his sister’s side with a broad smile.]

Jacob: “Incendio.”

[He thawed Carewyn out with a controlled flame from his wand. Her shoulders numb and shuddering from the cold, Carewyn peeled her wet bangs out of her eyes and glared up at her brother.]

“Freezing me in ice? Seriously, Jacob?”

[Jacob chuckled awkwardly.]

Jacob: “My bad, Pip...reckon that doesn’t bring back good memories, does it?”

Merula: “(laughs) Well, now you know it feels, Cromwell!”

[Carewyn shot Merula a glare over her shoulder.]

Don’t make me wish I’d left you frozen in that ice.

[Grinning from ear to ear, Jacob pointed his wand down at his foot without even looking down at it.]

Jacob: “Episkey.”

[Once he’d fixed the minor damage to his ankle, he grabbed one of Carewyn’s shoulders, squeezing it tight.]

Jacob: “That was out of sight, Pip -- you were brilliant!”

[Carewyn couldn’t meet his eye.]

“(lowly) I lost.”

Jacob: “(laughing) Not for lack of trying! You really gave me a run for my money there.”

[Seeing how surly his sister still looked, he offered her a slightly more reassuring look.]

Jacob: “Oh, come on -- perk up. I don’t duel like most people do -- it’s only natural I had the advantage. And even with that, you still held your own! You were able to change up your style, to match mine. You even started predicting my moves before I made them -- and without using Legilimency!”

“What would’ve been the point? I knew you could block me.”

Jacob: “Yes, but most others couldn’t.”

[He brought his fist gently under Carewyn’s chin, encouraging her to look up at him.]

Jacob: “You’re a force to be reckoned with, Pip. I’m so proud of you.”

[Carewyn felt a proud, encouraged warmth spreading all over her. Even as she looked Jacob in the eye, though, she couldn’t make herself smile.]

“...Thanks.”

[With a smile, Jacob lowered his hand and turned on his heel.]

Jacob: “Take care now, you hear?”

[But Carewyn, having predicted he might try to walk off at that exact point, had already seized hold of the back of his sleeve.]

“Jacob, stop. We need to talk -- alone.”

[Jacob glanced over his shoulder, startled by Carewyn’s urgency.]

Jacob: “I don’t have time, Pip.”

“(sharply) Make time.”

[Still holding his sleeve, she yanked him aside, putting some distance between them and Merula. She then whirled on him, her face much more desperate and her voice much more hushed.]

“Jacob, don’t disappear again. Let me help you -- ”

Jacob: “(very firmly) No.”

“You can’t fight R alone!”

Jacob: “I already told you, this is my fight.”

“You just told me you thought I was good -- was that a lie?”

Jacob: “(startled) What? No!”

“Then why won’t you let me help you? I’ve always helped you before!”

Jacob: “(bursting out) That’s exactly why I can’t let you help!”

[Jacob’s voice was shaking with anger, but it was a kind of anger that Carewyn could tell was wrought more from frustration and anxiety than any sort of wrath toward her.]

Jacob: “You got dragged into this mess because of me -- it’s my fault, entirely my fault, that you’ve been put in this much danger! I refuse to let you get involved more than you already have! I refuse to let you get hurt!”

[Carewyn’s heart ached.

She understood that thought process. It was exactly how she felt about her friends...why she’d stopped telling them anything about the Vaults...but...

His expression very solemn, Jacob brought his hand down onto Carewyn’s on his sleeve and gently pried her off.]

Jacob: “I’ll explain everything when I can, Pip, I promise. I just don’t -- ”

“ -- have time.”

[Carewyn wished that her voice hadn’t dripped with so much ice.

Jacob seemed to recoil slightly, his hand absently clutching at the sleeve she’d just been holding. His blue eyes were full of shame -- mirroring the expression he’d had back in the Vault -- ]

Jacob: “(very softly) ...Please be safe.”

[And in an instant, he was gone.

Carewyn’s eyes bore into the place he’d been standing on but barely registered it. Her gaze was endless and unfocused.]

You don’t want me involved...but I’m already involved, Jacob! R has already targeted me! I’m involved, but I’m fighting with blinders on, all because you won’t let me help you!

[She felt like she wanted to cry, but she stubbornly refused to.]

It’s one thing, for me to not want my friends involved -- R only targeted them to threaten me. But R isn’t just targeting me to threaten you, Jacob -- they’re after both of us. And what if it’s too much for you to handle alone? What if you get in over your head again -- just like you always do -- !?

[Carewyn hadn’t even realized Merula had come up beside her until she spoke.]

“Shut it, Merula.”

[Hating how harsh her voice sounded, Carewyn struggled to regain control of her temper.]

Detach -- forget -- detach --

“...Jacob will be back once this is all over.”

[Merula raised her eyebrows, smiling slightly.]

Merula: “He’s surprisingly cool, for someone related to you.”

[Carewyn gave Merula a rather piercing look.]

“‘Surprisingly cool?’ You taunted me about him being dead, in the past. Rather frequently, in fact.“

[Merula flushed darkly and she looked away awkwardly.]

Merula: “Well, yeah, but -- well, I didn’t know him then, did I? And we have...similar priorities, that’s all. He’s not bad at Dueling, either...wish I could’ve had a crack at him...”

[Carewyn’s eyes narrowed very sharply. She thought she knew exactly why Merula was blushing, and she really didn’t like it.]

“(very dully) Sorry, Merula, but you’re not Jacob’s type.”

Jacob may be an idiot when it comes to people, but even he’s not that dumb.

[Merula flushed an even darker shade of red.]

Merula: “What?! Who ever said I -- ?! Ugh!”

[She crossed her arms irritably.]

Merula: “At least your brother understands that when you’re up against Rakepick, or the person that’s after us, nothing’s off the table.”

[Carewyn looked straight ahead and away from Merula as she started to walk off, her nose slightly up in the air.]

“My brother is also clever enough to figure out a way to stop someone without killing them.”

[Carewyn had fully expected the conversation to be over, but Merula actually followed her out of Knockturn Alley.]

Merula: “Honestly -- I’d say your social life’s going to be a lot more interesting than mine, soon enough.”

[Carewyn raised her eyebrows.]

“Oh?”

[Merula only smirked.]

Merula: “Haven’t heard about the new ‘star’ at Hogwarts yet, then? Heh...well, you will, soon enough. Better hope he doesn’t steal your spotlight, Cromwell.”

((OOC: Whew! That duel took forever to write! But yes, Jacob Cromwell is a dueling prodigy, so Carewyn had to lose this one. It’s his single greatest talent, largely because of his exceptional Transfiguration skills and his creativity. If Carewyn’s good at dueling because she can read her opponent and use common sense, then Jacob’s good at dueling because of the astounding amount of spells he’s mastered and how he applies them in unique ways. I do see Carewyn being one of the very few opponents that’s ever made Jacob sweat, even though he was trying to train her in his own weird way -- usually he takes down his opponents pretty quickly, taunting them the entire way. Arrogant little bugger.

Ah, Jacob Cromwell, I love you, my boy -- I just wish the game gave me the option to customize you so you don’t look like a shaved version of Ronald McDonald with black lipstick in your official screenshots... *snorts*

A lot of Jacob’s spells’ incantations were made up by me, often as a direct Latin translation for what they do. For example, “Venio Saggita,” means “air arrows,” which would be an incantation for a spell (originally cast non-verbally in canon) that conjures arrows out of thin air. A few others I found through HP Wiki and belonged to other HP properties like the PC games made back in the 90′s.))

#carewyn cromwell #jacob cromwell #jacob's sibling #jacob #hphm #hogwarts mystery #roleplaying #gameplay #my art #merula snyde #patricia rakepick

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