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potionpeddlerpatchy · 9 months

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For the @love-and-lore gift exchange event.

@mekiza hello my darling, hope you are fairing well. I suppose by now there is no longer a secret to who has gotten you in this exchange, but nonetheless I do hope you enjoy the trinkets and potion I made for you to consume as the new year turns.

Please, my friend, go ahead and look below. I promise it will be worth it. 🔮

Fireworks in Your Eyes

word count: ~3.8K

paring: Sanemi x Aura (tried to keep it as gn as possible just in case 😊)

warning(s): none, just fluff 😊

He always ended up here.

Sanemi was a fierce combatant to any demon he faced. Though with his brutality came little care for his own safety. That the ends always justified the means. That if he got injured it would not matter as long as whatever demon he saw was dead – even if it meant adding more and more scars to his body.

But that carelessness meant that once the dust had settled, he would need to find a safe place to rest his head, to bandage his wounds, and to heal before he could run off and repeat this ever-destructive cycle he had made for himself. He may be careless, but he was not stupid. He knew he was mortal, and to keep up the charade he would have to take the time to heal in privacy to ensure the image he casted for himself, the brute slayer that knew no limits, would remain in the minds and hearts of all that heard his name.

And that place of privacy he always sought refuge turned out to be your onsen.

Well, it was not your onsen, at least not by name. It belonged to a couple, village elders, that took you in a long time ago when you sought shelter. And, over the years, you took more and more duties on their behalf as aged settled deep within their bones. It was known all over the village that someday you would be the head of the inn, and you took pride in ensuring that everything looked and ran smoothly. That each patron would be treated with the upmost respect and care, if not by your hand but by the fair few you allowed to work alongside you.

That was the only explanation you could possibly find as to why the Wind Hashira would frequent your establishment; that it gave him the best and most discrete care. Though, you were sure that the village of the Swordsmiths would provide what he needed in more abundance, the secrecy in which they kept themselves – as well as the need to have a guide take you there – was what turned him off overtime. For what started as a visit once within the year turned into one once a season, to now, where he would come seek your assistance at least once a month.

And you had to be the one to care for him. None of your other staff could handle being close to him. The menacing aura he gave off was too off-putting, and the barking commands to frightening for most to stomach. But you withstood it, had to for the sake of your reputation and the one built by those before you. You were able to bear it all with a polite smile and nod of your head as you dressed his bandages, provided him medicine and food every few hours, and showcased to him each time his own private bath to soak in its healing waters.

You knew he was grateful for the aide, but his pride would not allow him to showcase it. Perhaps that was why, as the time passed, you grew to respect his patronage as much as the many others who flocked to your onsen. That there was a mutual understanding that grew, on both ends, that allowed you both to do what needed to be done. As the days moved on, the intense aura that surrounded dimmed to one of greater comfortability, and his barking words that allowed him to hide under false bravado slipped away. Soon he greeted you with a simple nod, as silence would envelope the room as he allowed you to what you needed as he gazed up the beautiful scenery that surrounded your establishment.

But recently, that had begun to change.

Normally you would not care if a patron changed their behaviour somewhat after repeated visits - if you were honest you would not even notice. But for him? It was hard not be drawn to the subtle changes in his behaviour. For what seemed miniscule in your eyes with most people, like dust that collected within corners of rooms, was like growing mountains that appeared overnight with Sanemi.

How could it not, when those sharp lavender eyes soon began to focus upon you? Not in a malicious, cold, way as they once did when he first needed you care, but rather they seemed to curious and almost soft as they gazed down at your hands, or upon your profile, as you dutifully worked away. He never spoke what was on his mind, even when you probed him with gentle questions, rather wishing to remain silent. You assumed it was perhaps him showcasing, in his own way, a quiet kind of awe and respect over how well you mastered your craft.

Sanemi would never tell you the truth of the matter. That the reason he became so drawn to you was, at first, the familiarity of presence and how it gently washed calm over his adrenaline riddled heart. But now it was due to an attraction he was not aware had formed. Yet, despite his best efforts, it had. How your hands, ones he was disdainful of as they touched him, now made his stomach flutter as they brushed so delicately over his skin. How your voice, as it gently called out his name, used to make him scoff in annoyance would now cause his body to perk in excitement. And you eyes. How he hated as they examined him, making him feel like a weak animal that just escaped slaughter, and caused his blood to boil soon made his heart skip a beat as he yearned to look upon them once more – to catch the light in your gaze as they met his.

He was not sure when this shift happened, but it frightened him nonetheless. Cause his body to tense, his skin to sweat, and his heart to pound loudly in his chest; worse than it would have in the flight that brought him here in the first place.

But he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Especially as the days grew colder, and the holidays took hold of the country in its tight grip. How he was so used ignoring it, to enjoy the celebration (if he so chose to) alone in his solitude. Yet now, his poor soul simply wished to spend it with you. To brush away the lingering chill and replace it with your warmth. To eat the traditional foods made by your hand, for he knew nothing else would taste better. And to see how your eyes would come alive, as that pretty smile would grace upon your face, as you took in the dazzling lights that decorated every building and casted across the sky.

Sanemi wanted to enter the new year, one he had not expected to make it to, with you by his side. Yet his pride, and fear of the unknown of how your mind was, made it impossible for him to make that a reality. Yet, the gods above gave him a reprieve. One he could only assume came from the defeat of an upper rank demon by his hand.

“Shame you have to be here as the new year approaches.” You soft voiced called out to him as your deft fingers gingerly wrapped the plain bandage over his upper arm.

“A shame?” He responded in kind, though his rumbling timber made it difficult to make out what he said, he could tell by the furrow in your brow. It caused him to clear his throat and repeat himself.

“Yes a shame,” You smiled softly with a nod of you head, as you tied a firm knot to keep the bandage in place “there are such beautiful traditions, and festivals, held to bring in the new year. And you will be stuck here as they all pass you by.”

“I am not in that rough of shape.” He muttered, a casual shrug of his shoulder a ploy to hide his nerves “Only a few cuts upon my arms, none that deep. If I wanted to go, I still could.”

“I suppose you are right, after all you do know the limits your body can handle.” You remark, moving to wash and bandage another said cut.

“Well, what about you?” Sanemi was surprised he managed to voice that question aloud, eyes darted away as he steeled his never to continue “I’m sure you have something planned.”

He watched, from the corner of his eye, as yours darted up to gaze at his profile before they darted down to look at the bandage within your hand; your brows still furrowed as you repeated the action a few more times – as if you had trouble thinking of a response.

“You don’t have to answer, if you don’t want to.” He mumbled again, giving you an option out should you find yourself stuck.

“No, no, no, I don’t mind!” You voiced rushed out the words, whether it was to reassure him or yourself was hard to tell, as you shook your head before that polite smile graced itself upon your features “When I was younger, the owners of the onsen were kind enough to take me along with them to see the fireworks from the nearby city. It became a tradition of sorts for us.”

Sanemi could tell, from the way your voice trailed at the end, that though this was a treasured tradition, it was one you no longer could celebrate. He allowed the silence to fill the air, to empathize with you for a moment as you relived the death of nostalgia once again, and to allow you the chance to continue on should you desire to do so.

“I take it that you aren’t seeing the fireworks then.” He mumbled again, his eyes scanned your profile carefully to ensure that if he crossed the line he could recant what he said.

You let out a short, almost stilted hum, as you shook your head “No, sadly there is too much for me to do here to allow such a luxury, for taking a trip to the city would take me at least three days. I cannot allow the work to pile up.”

He watched as you took one final nod, a que if ever there was one, that the conversation (at least upon that topic) was over. And who was he to press further? Instead, he continued to watched you out of the corner of his eyes, as you worked. For the last thing he wanted was for his gaze to linger upon you, to make you feel or think that he pitied you. To further upset you in some way.

He gave a nod himself, one in gratitude, when you announced you were done and for him to call upon you should he need it; the breath he held burned his lungs as he listened to your quiet steps leave the room, as he did his best not to have his sorrow for you known. To not make how you felt worse, or to ruin the small relationship he had with you.

But once he slowly allowed the air to leave, as his eyes gazed upon the beautiful scenery before him once again, his determination grew; just as strong and steady as the breath he was regaining. If traditions can start and end, who was to say they couldn’t be reborn again?

With a heavy sigh you wiped the sweat upon your brow as you leaned back to rest upon your knees; a much-needed break from scrubbing the tile floor of the small bathing room available for the guests that preferred them over the open air onsens. You had hoped doing such a task and the others like it, of enduring hard labor, would get your mind off of the earlier conversation you had with Sanemi. Though, the dull ache that remained in your heart, even after hours of distracting yourself, proved otherwise as you let out another sigh; this one more defeated than the last as you tossed your rag haphazardly into the buck of water and suds you had been using.

You stood, taking care to not rush to avoid feeling dizzy, as you took the time to stretch your whole body gently to help avoid the ache you knew would creep upon them when the next morning appeared. Though you groaned and grimaced, a reaction to how stiff your body was and how it wished for you to not proceed, you knew it would be worth it in the end.

“Hey..”

The sudden intrusion on your intimate moment with yourself, caused you to jump out of your own skin as a startled yelp burst forth from your lungs. Quickly you slapped your hand over your mouth as you tried to relax your shoulders, taking a moment to regain the breath lost before speaking once more.

“I apologies, you frightened me…” You gave a breathless laugh to try and ease the tension in your body and the heavy air around you.

“I should be saying sorry, didn’t mean to scare you….” The voice made your brows furrow and eyes widen as you turned to face Sanemi, a guest you rarely ever saw unless within the he was provided. You could tell, by his shifting feet, that he too felt out of place chatting with you in such an unfamiliar location.

“No, no, please there is no need.” You reassured, as you took a gingerly step towards him “Is there something wrong? Do you need my help with anything?” You watched him shake his head, finding some relief that he was alright, though the way his own brows furrowed in concentration made your curiosity grow as you waited for him to find the words he wished to express; to explain why he called to you out of the blue.

“I just….” He began, as you could see the colour of his cheeks begin to change, fist balling themselves before stretched to release the pent-up tension “Would you come with me?

“Y-yes!” You nodded your head, as you adjusted the skirts that had bunched up your legs, before you took a few strides towards him, dutifully – obediently – following him once he began to lead you to where he needed you to be.

After a few moments, of allowing him to lead you through corridors that were more than familiar to you, did you pipe up once more as dread started to creep into your bones as you wondered why he would need you – and at such an hour “Are you sure you’re alright? That everything is okay?”

“Yes.”

His curt reply did little to ease your worried mind, as your eyes scanned his back and your surrounding “If it isn’t, you can tell me. After all I would hate for you to further - !”

“I said, I’m fine!” His fierce tone interrupted, causing whatever words you were rushed to speak to halter and get stuck within your throat; as you watched how his shoulders bunched upwards in annoyance. But after a shaky breath shared between you both, they slumped downward again “I’m… I’m okay. Just wanted to show you something, alright?”

You nodded your head in response, though after a moment you realized he could not see you and thus you voice squeaked out your agreement to his want; your mind put a little more at ease with his gentle admission of what he was doing, even if it was vague.

Silence filled the space between you once more, as you allowed him to take you to wherever it was he wished to show you. Though, as the minutes passed, as you approached the house on the far side of the compound, one reserved for the most regal of guests, did voice your confusion – especially after you saw him begin to climb upon the wood and thatch.

“Just where are you taking me?” You looked upon the outstretched hand that was waiting to pull you up alongside him, before you gazed further to look at the face of the man who continue to befuddle you.

“To the roof.” The absolution in his voice, the total ignorance at how strange someone may find the desired destination to be, made you feel almost dizzy.

“And why are we going up there?”

“Just trust me, okay? You’ve been doing that well enough at it already.”

You sighed; an argumentative response bubbled in your throat, but you swallowed it downward as you looked away from him. You wished he would tell you what he was up to, but you knew better than anyone what a steel, almost dangerous, trap this man’s mind was. You were never going to know what he was up to, what he wished to show you, unless you followed him. With a tap, and then another of your foot, your resolve diminished “Fine. But I refuse to climb up there. If we are to go to the roof, we are to take the stairs.”

With a huff, one you were sure was out of annoyance of you stubbornness after getting so far, he agreed. His footfall, ones you thought would be heavy, softly landed once more on the ground where you stood and after a beat he motioned you forward “Well go on then, it’s your house.”

“R-right…” You nodded your head before you took the first few strides into your home.

It was simple, old and traditional, but lavish nonetheless. And if you had the proper time, and knew of his interest, you might have taken a few minutes to give him a proper tour of the dwelling; to let him know of the history and heirlooms that were held within it. But you knew Sanemi was not one for patience, at least not when he wanted something. And instead, you briskly walked him up the few flights of stairs that led to the attic.

“If you open that window, you’ll see a ledge. You can use that as a sturdy platform to help you get up on the roof” You mentioned, as you motioned to him which window you meant.

He merely nodded before he did as instructed. His swift and agile movements, proof of his years of training, made you feel almost inadequate, as you tried and followed suit behind him. Embarrassment filled your being when you felt his arms wrapped you as he helped you the rest of the way up when you struggled to pull your own weight, to gain good traction and comfortable footing, up the slanted roof.

You were grateful for the cool air upon your flushed cheeks once you were settled down upon the flat wooden beam of your roof as you tucked your knees to your chest. You took a moment to regain your composure, your lost pride, before you could even think to look at him; the corner of your eye catching his profile as you watched him look upon the sky.

“Suppose I should try and ask again…” You mumbled, resting your chin upon your knees as you looked up at well “Why have you brought me here?”

“Fireworks.” Sanami stated plainly once more, keeping his eyes upward so as to avoid you watching his face contort slightly in embarrassment.

“Fireworks?”

“Yeah,” He shrugged, “You said you used to see them, but now you can’t. So, wanted you to see them.”

“But we can’t see them, we’re not in the city, we’re too far away. And my village will not risk using fireworks so large due to all the forestry.”

“The city you are referring to is Asakusa, right?” He glanced briefly down at you to watch as you slowly nodded your head in agreement, before he looked back up again “I know this area well and given you are merely days away from Asakusa simply means that if you want to enjoy some fireworks, you just need to find the tallest building to see them, which I have.”

You swallowed, eyes blinked rapidly, as you tried to full comprehend the nature of his words; but after they were allowed to sink within your mind for a moment, did a smile of excitement form upon your lips as you let out a breathless laugh “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Sanami could not help but mirror the growing smile as the air became lighter and more jovial.

“Show me where.” You eagerly sat more upright, tucking your legs beneath you to gain an extra few inches of height, as you eagerly awaited his answer – which came in the form of his outstretched arm and pointed finger.

And, as if one que, that part of the sky began to glow alight with bright and beautiful colours; and though it was far in the distance, only filling a small portion of the sky, the giant round patterns were both familiar to you and gave you a sense of childish wonder as you took in their displays and allowed your heart to fill with nostalgia. You wished you could voice how you felt. To excitement your excitement, to squeal with joy, or to laugh with jubilation, but all you could do was watch with quiet awe as you clung tightly to the sleeve of Sanemi’s yukata.

“Do you like it?” He whispered, after the brightest displays light up the sky, only to be replaced with those of lesser quality but similar beauty nonetheless.

“I do….” You breathed out, almost as if you had no control over your voice “Do you?

You eyes turned to face him, to showcase the smallest bit of gratitude you could in that moment – to take your eyes away from the spectacle you so longed to see after all these years – only to find he was already looking at you; transfixed as if you were the brightest and most beautiful illumination in the sky.

“You’re missing the show…” you whispered out, ignoring your own hypocrisy as you kept his gaze as you watched him leaned closer towards you; like a moth to a flame.

“I know.” Gingerly he rested his forehead against your own with a stuttering sigh, you could feel the flushed heat that sat upon his cheeks, as he willed himself to keep his eyes locked with your own.

You knew he wanted to say more, to voice how he truly felt, to take this beautiful moment to his advantage and pour his heart out to you. But he couldn’t. Much like you were moments ago, so swept up in your emotions that all your body could do was to sit back and allow it to rush through, so he was now. Yet, it didn’t matter. For his eyes more eloquently showcased to you everything he could ever wish to say. That, in this moment with you, all that he was and ever will be was sitting right before him; held within your perfect eyes. And despite the beauty that surrounded him, they were all he wished to see

Of course, there are moodboards for you to enjoy as well 💛

#I was very much inspired by Chaising Cars for this one #and just HAD to put it in one of your moodboards!#anyway I hope you like this love - and have a great New Year!#love & lore: gift exchange 2023 #love & lore: mekiza #love & lore: patchy #sanemi shinaguzawa #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #kny #kny x reader #🔮.the peddler brews #🔮.potion for sanemi

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cogaytes · 9 months

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hello @camelspit! i had you for the tgl gift exchange :D

thank you to @gay-otlc for hosting and @arsonistblue for beta-ing!!

Title: brothers

Wordcount: 1753

Summary:

"Who was that?" Jess asks before he can continue the argument. He can't help but be a little curious. The expression on Glain's face when reading the message had been softer than usual—almost…fond.

"Mind your own damn business, Brightwell," she snaps, holding his gaze with a dangerous expression that makes Jess shrink back…before she bursts out laughing. "Kidding. It's one of my older brothers. Rhys. Won't stop messaging me. He's a pain in my arse."

"Brothers are like that." He knows the feeling all too well. Knew the feeling.

---

or, jess and glain talk about their brothers. featuring he/she glain as a treat!

Warnings: none

read on ao3 or under the cut!

It's a beautiful day in the High Garda training complex. A gentle breeze brings cool relief from the hot Alexandrian sun, carrying the noise of the bustling city outside into the courtyard. Light glances off the metal of spears in the distance, where Troll is drilling new recruits. The rhythmic chanting of their call and response sounds almost musical from afar.

It's a beautiful day, it seems, to get his arse kicked.

Shouting some sort of battle cry in Welsh, Glain Wathen tears across the field in a blur of brown curls and bowls him to the ground on impact. Jess blinks once, twice, and before he has the chance to wriggle out of her grasp, he's pinned down with the cold steel of a blade held to his throat. "Yield!" his opponent crows, and Jess coughs, tapping twice on the ground with his free hand.

All of a sudden, Glain's weight is gone; he rolls to his feet with a catlike sort of grace, then offers him her hand. Jess accepts it gratefully, still huffing and puffing as he rises to his feet. Glain looks him up and down, seeming unimpressed. "We need to work on your technique."

"What technique?" Jess protests incredulously, "I didn't even get a chance to lift my sword before you were literally on top of me!"

The other tosses a smug smile over his shoulder. "Like I said. Technique." Jess rolls his eyes and follows her to the far side of the courtyard, where he can sink gratefully onto the shady grass and grab a canteen of water. Glain sprawls out as well and wipes at his brow, despite not seeming to have broken a sweat during that whole exchange.

"I don't see why all this 'training' is necessary, anyway," Jess complains between sips. He's not even a formal part of the Library anymore, and he's good enough at surviving that he's not concerned about ending up in a fight. Let alone one where he would only have a sword.

"Archivist's orders," Glain drawls. She's lying on her back now, not even looking at him, but Jess can hear the smirk on his face.

Jess throws his hands into the air. "I don't even work for her!" He's starting to get the distinct impression that Glain just wanted to knock him around for a few hours under the premise of "training." Glain opens her mouth to retort, but he's cut off by the chime of a Codex. Jess frowns; he didn't think he'd brought his Codex with him to the complex. It must be Glain's message, then.

He watches as he rummages through her bag and pulls out the Codex. Its case is plain: smooth black leather, practical and no-nonsense. Very Glain. She reads the message, face shifting slightly, then writes out a quick reply before closing it and turning back to Jess.

"Brothers are like that." He knows the feeling all too well. Knew the feeling.

Glain rolls his eyes in agreement. "Especially older ones." She pauses, as if weighing whether or not to continue. "Was Brendan older?"

Jess' stomach rolls a little, the way it always seems to when thinking about his deceased twin. He takes a second, but still answers the question. "No, he was younger by a few minutes." It makes Jess chuckle, to remember the way Brendan would glare whenever Jess reminded him of that particular fact. His expression sobers, though, thinking about something else. "He was so small when he was born that they didn't think he would survive the night. I think that's why…he always had something to prove."

Glain's presence is steady at his side. "I hated your brother's guts," he says, and Jess barks a surprised laugh. Even after all these years they've spent together, he's never managed to not be caught off guard by Glain's bluntness. "But I'm sorry that he's dead. I don't know if I've ever said it."

"Thank you," Jess replies softly. He wonders if Brendan and Glain would have gotten along in another world. Glain would have little patience for the way Brendan hid his true intentions with extra flourishes of speech, he thinks; he'd probably grumble for him to "say what you mean, cocky twp." But it would have exasperated affection in it, the same way he snaps at Dario now. No, Glain probably wouldn't have liked Brendan, but she would have respected him, and he her.

Jess' heart aches, knowing that neither of them will have the chance to know the other now.

"Did you sign him over to your-" Glain hesitates, glancing over at him, "To Callum, in the end?"

Jess nods. "I think he would have liked it. To know my father built something suitably ornate and expensive to commemorate him. And-" he takes a deep breath, "I thought…my parents should get to bury at least one son."

"That's right. You had another brother, you said."

"Yeah. Liam. They hanged him for smuggling when he was seventeen." He takes a deep breath. "We couldn't- if our family had come forward to claim his body, they would have killed all of us." Next to him, Glain hums in understanding. "I expect he ended up in a mass grave somewhere. But my father…it changed him. I think…maybe he couldn't see us as his sons after that, because there was always the risk that we would be caught too."

"Fuck that," Glain cuts in suddenly. "Soldiers die sometimes. Doesn't mean you stop seeing them as people." She stares him fiercely in the eye, and somehow Jess can't look away. "You deserved better than how he treated you."

He swallows. The best thing about Glain, he thinks, is how he knows without an ounce of doubt that those are her true feelings, and how he shares them with a conviction that makes it so easy to believe. "Thank you. I— I needed to hear that."

I wish Brendan had gotten to. His brother had always pretended otherwise, but he was the one who cared most about what their father thought of him. Jess was the disappointment; he knew that. He wasn't interested in inheriting the business, always more absorbed in reading the books that fell into his hands than smuggling them. Brendan had been the one his father put on a pedestal, and that meant he was the one with the farthest to fall.

He looks up to realize Glain is watching him, expression betraying the closest thing to concern she'd ever let show on his face, so he changes the subject. "Tell me about your brothers?"

Her face turns fond again. "I've got six of them. Four older, two younger. They're idiots."

Jess laughs softly, hearing the visible affection in his voice. "But they're your idiots." The same way he and Dario and Thomas are her idiots. The same way he's Jess' idiot.

"Yeah. They are." Her fingers trace the grip of his sword absentmindedly. "My older brothers were the first people who didn't treat me like I was fragile or helpless. Told me just 'cause I was a girl didn't mean I got to skip out on helping them with the horses, or shoveling out the stalls, or any of that other shit. Rhys even worked extra hours at the blacksmith to save enough coin to send me to postulant training. Knew it was the only way I could join the Garda the way I wanted. And when I came out, Elis gave me my first haircut."

"They sound wonderful," Jess says, and means it. Nothing at all like either of his brothers—Brendan would never display such obvious affection, and Liam had been too old for Jess' foolishness before he died—but wonderful nonetheless.

"You could meet them, if you'd like. I'm going home for Christmas. You could come." She grins wickedly. "Unless, of course, you'd rather spend it with Wolfe and the Santis."

Jess shudders. Captain Santi's family seems to make every gathering a competition to see how many people they can cram into the smallest rooms possible. They'd welcomed him with open arms—and bone-crushing hugs—last year, but he couldn't help but feel…out of place. Everyone was so boisterous and loud, while Jess has always preferred to fade into the background. He'd ended up hiding in the corner with Wolfe after the second time someone clocked him in the head with an elbow during an impassioned speech. Apparently the Scholar spends every Santi celebration as far away from the others as humanly possible, nursing a glass of wine, and with his hands clasped tightly over his ears. "Depends. Will your brothers try to marry me off to every vaguely available cousin?"

Glain throws his head back and laughs. "Absolutely not. They tried bringing up that mushy stuff with me exactly once, when I was eight. You can probably guess how that worked out for them." Jess laughs, too; he pictures a young Glain pinning two brothers twice his size against a cottage wall with knives as long as her forearms. "No, the youngest will probably talk your ear off about dragons, and the older ones'll only be interested in hearing about your adventures." He smirks. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to add on all the parts where you tripped over your own shoelaces or got your hair singed off by Greek fire. We can't have you getting a big head."

Jess smiles, imagines sitting by a fireplace in a cozy sitting room, laughing with Glain's brothers and being cursed out affectionately in Welsh. "That sounds wonderful."

Glain grins. "It's settled, then. I'll let them know you're coming." He opens her Codex again and scratches out a new message. Watching him, Jess is hit with a sudden wave of affection. Glain has been such a steady presence, the past few years; he realizes that he doesn't know what he'd do without her.

"Glain?" Glain looks up from his Codex. "Thanks. For inviting me. And talking."

She grins at him. "Anytime. That's what brothers are for."

#the great library #tgl #tgl gift exchange 2023 #mine

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