#i have a prompt that's a sequel

[sulky-valkyrie]

Happy happy Fridaaay! For DADWC, how about “Trusting you was a mistake" for Nanders, maybe? 🥺

Happy Friday, Gin! 💜 have some angst for @dadrunkwriting

Anders had not been pleased when Nate insisted they bring Loghain to Kirkwall, but he couldn’t deny he’d been useful.  The city guards damn near fell over themselves for the fabled Hero of the River Dane far more than they would have for a simple pair of no-name ragged Wardens.  Nevermind that he’d almost torn Ferelden in half.  Nevermind that the refugee crisis in the Marches was partially his own fault.  Nevermind that Wardens weren’t supposed to have any ties or allegiances outside the order.  He was still Loghain mac fucking Tir, father of the bloody queen of Ferelden.  

He wanted to head straight for the Gallows, but Loghain insisted they do it the next morning.  “They won't look on us kindly if we're still covered in sea spray and road dust.”

“Besides,” Nate added, “the boats only travel to and from the city twice a day.  We’d be stuck there all night.”

Anders shuddered at the thought as he stared over the water.  Karl, please, just one more day.  “Fine.”

They found a small inn near the alienage, paid for two rooms, and took their evening meals upstairs.  To Anders’ surprise and Loghain's confusion, Nate chose to bunk with him, leaving him alone to wonder and worry instead of sleeping.  

When they reached the harbor just after dawn, the ferry to the Gallows was still docking.  They got into the blessedly short line to embark and were back on the water in less than half an hour.

The boat ride was simultaneously the one of the most boring and – hah – harrowing experiences of his life.  Anders fidgeted with his jacket, as much from nerves as the need to do something to keep himself from jumping off and swimming the rest of the way.  It would be apropos, after all.  The swim across Lake Calenhad was one of his favorite and more successful escapes; doing it again to get Karl out would have a poetic irony.  

“Stop that,” Nate hissed as he slapped his hand.  “The more nervous you look, the more they’ll worry something is wrong.”

He bit his tongue to keep himself from snarling a retort.  Something was wrong, wrong with the institution, the whole bloody world.  And he was going to fix it as soon as Karl was out of harm’s way.

Karl, I’m coming.  For him, he’d keep his damn hands still.

The strange jangling in his nerves that he’d always associated with lyrium use was thick in the air as they walked down the gangplank, and only increased as they wound their way past the Tranquil shops to the main entrance.  He'd known it would be crawling with Templars, of course, but knowing it and feeling it were two different things entirely.  He felt like he was trudging through molasses and hot coals all at once.  I'm a Warden, they can't touch me.

It was a cold comfort.  No, it was just cold, with icy fingers that squeezed his heart and made it difficult to breathe.  He followed Loghain and Nate almost blindly and prayed they'd be able to get this over with soon enough to take the afternoon ferry back to the city.

A familiar face was at the gate.  Familiar and unwelcome.  Maker, it's Cullen; I thought he died, now he's here and promoted?  Anders knelt down to adjust his boot, wishing Loghain or Nate were taller.  Hopefully he doesn't recognize me.

Loghain pressed a paper into Cullen's hands.  “We're here for the Right of Conscription; these are orders from the Warden Commander of Ferelden.”  

When had Brosca done that?  Was it forged?

“We're not in Ferelden,” Cullen sneered, then crumpled it up.

“The Wardens have authority to Conscript anywhere Thedas.” Nate waved his hand in disgust.  “Even Kirkwall.”

Cullen made a face.  “I'll have to take this to the Knight Commander.  Gallows are off limits to everyone, yes, even Wardens, without her permission.  We can't simply – wait.” He peered over Loghain's shoulder.  “Anders?”

Damn.  He tried to hide his wince as he stood up.  “Knight Captain, what a surprise to see you here.”

Cullen ignored him as he swung his gaze back to Loghain.  “Warden Constable, is there a reason you're bringing an apostate into the Gallows?”

“Call it a gesture of goodwill.”  He pointed at Anders.  “This mage has proved to be more trouble than he’s worth.  We need a different one.  I'm sure you understand.”

What?  Anders looked at Nate, who cleared his throat and fiddled with his belt pouch.  “Nate, you – was this the plan the whole time?”  He lunged for him, reckless with despair as the smite hit, stealing his voice, burning his mana away, and Maker, it hurt, but not as much as this.  Templars were suddenly at his sides, grabbing his hands, then pushing him to the ground and twisting his arms behind his back before hauling him back to his feet.

Loghain watched the whole thing impassively, but Nate, fucking Nate, Nate whom he’d slept with, who’d offered to help him, couldn’t even do him the courtesy of looking him in the eyes as he sent him to his death.

It happened so quickly he was too stunned to even fight back as they marched him past Cullen and toward the gate.  The crushing silence faded as the gate lifted, and he twisted around in their grip, ignoring the agonizing pop as his shoulder came out of his socket.  

“Trusting you was a mistake,” he spat before they dragged him away.

[toxintouch]

hii!! I just read cold spots and it was AMAZING!!! Im not sure if you wanted to continue the fic, but if you don’t mind could you continue with Veres part? I don’t know what you would write about but I just feel like that fic has so much potential to be a little 3 part series or something 🙏

<- Cold Spots TYSM ANON!! I put the Vere End at the beginning for ease of reading. For the sake of folks who would like to read this as a stand-alone... I think u can? With the knowledge that the premise of Cold Spots is that Mhin and MC/Sparrow went ghost hunting. Vere is said to have been responsible for a handful of local ghost stories, so…of course he makes some mischief.🦊 Also MC needs some Winter wear, stat.  A very light Possessive Vere warning in this btw, though perhaps in a roundabout way.  Plausible deniability is so important to him.

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.   It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort.  You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

Heat Signature

“Poor thing.” Vere purrs.  “Your lips are so cold.”  He leans ever closer, his mouth hot over yours–hovering.  His other hand reaches for your face as well, nails trailing against your cheek in a teasing caress.

You feel even the thought of being cold leave your body, replaced instead by the unusual thrill he commands, that strange enthralling sway.

That heat you’ve come to associate with Vere; sweet tendrils of want that nestle in your bloodstream.

You squirm a little, though you can’t move much with him looming over you.

(You should probably do more to protest his intrusion into your room, you think to yourself, though, the majority of you is–curious, daresay even far too eager to–)

“Whatever trouble did you get up to that left you in such a state?”

At this you scoff, tilting your head back into the pillow and effectively knocking Vere’s finger from your lips.  

“As if you don’t know,” you accuse.

Vere looks entirely unperturbed by you shaking him off, his lithe fingers traveling freely along the newly displayed skin of your throat, making your pulse jump.

Vere chuckles at that, dark and silky.

“Being tight lipped about your adventures, hm?”  He angles your face just so, ensuring you meet his sharp eyes, his nose brushing up against yours.  “Not that it matters.  It so happens I do know what you’ve been up to.  Trespassing in places that don’t belong to you.”

“...It was an abandoned building.  I don’t think it really belonged to anyone.”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Vere says, “everything in this city belongs to someone, darling.  You just don’t know what belongs to who yet.”  He peers down at you with laughter in his expression, though there's a distinct edge to it that you can't quite place.

“So, you're here because that building belongs to you...?”

“Hmm, amongst other things.  However shall I make you apologize to me for this most egregious offense?”  He asks airily, shifting until he’s beside you rather than perched over you, resting his cheek in his hand and letting his eyes slip closed. He's the absolute picture of unbothered leisure.  

(You’re not fooled–he’s simply waiting for you to let your guard down before he pounces.)

You open your mouth to deny any debts on your part (though, if your ghost hunting spot was indeed Vere’s hideout, you really do feel guilty) but Vere cuts you off before you can speak.

“Alas, I suppose it’s not mine anymore.  Within a week it will reek of wet dogs and cheap booze. It's a lost cause now that those drooling reprobates know it's inhabitable.  A pity.  By Eridia's standards it really was divine in its heyday.  Good wine, music, dancing.  There was this portrait artist who would paint the performances…”

His tone remains light as he reminisces.  But the look he pins you with is dangerous: his eyes gleaming bright, his canines bared in an irreverent grin.

“I had such hopes and dreams of reviving the place myself.  Some of the dances were very scandalous.  You never did share with me your stance on dancing, did you?”

You stumble out an approximate answer.  It’s…harmless information to give, isn’t it?

Though, judging by how pleased Vere looks, you wonder if you should have refused to say.  He looks positively wicked as he ponders your answer aloud.  “Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of talents to share.  In another life, perhaps I'd have put you on stage.  Though, I admit.  I find myself partial to a private show.”

And–as expected–the moment you let your guard down, he's in your space again, crowding you.  Heat and proximity and the softest brush of his lips against yours, light enough to send a thrill down your spine, curiosity and a want so deep it surprises you.

“Well?”  He purrs.  “Care to audition?”

You can't hide behind the excuse of supernatural sway or charm or the thrall of hypnotic sunglo eyes.  It's not Vere's power that controls you. It's your own gnawing desire; starvation and longing that draws you to him despite all sense.

Kissing Vere is heady.  Dizzying.  

Kissing Vere is like being in conversation with Vere–a constant of giving and taking, being chased after and running to keep up.  It’s enticing and alluring and decadent and never quite enough, over too soon even as you feel yourself losing air, the rush of blood and sensation threatening to overwhelm you.

He gives a parting nip to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

Then another one, playful, to your jaw.

When he presses his face into the side of your neck, you expect him to bite again.

What you don’t expect is for him to nuzzle into you, inhaling deeply before heaving a great sigh, his tail flopping lazily to land across you with a thump.

He’s officious as he rearranges the covers, ensuring your arms are tucked carefully away from him before he’s willing to fully settle into the bedding, pulling the blankets up around the both of you like a den.  He hums something low in his chest as he tucks himself up alongside you, long tail curled around your waist. 

It’s rhythmic–

purring.

And it’s…soothing, actually.

The weight of him, the warmth.  The incessant lamplight of the Amaryllis District, shining ever present through your window, is dim–tolerable, even, courtesy of Vere's magnificent shadow manipulations and the blankets sheltering you. 

The constant noise seems to fade away as well, obscured by the sound of purring. “Falling asleep when you have me in your bed, pet?  You really do try your luck…”

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 82

You may be asking yourself after a night with no prompts, @geraskierfanficprompts, did you die? And the answer is, no, I only half-died (as in slept. For like 16 hours. I do not think I am well.) BUT ANYWHO LETS GOOOO Geralt is captured by Nilfgard, or whatever VOTW you want, it's up to whoever writes it, as always my dears, but without changes to the prompt, it would make most sense post-mountain Nilfgaard <3 Geralt knows Yennefer is expecting him back sooner, and because he didn't make it back in time, he knows damn well that Yennefer is currently tracking him down and will get him out. He just has to endure. He just has to wait it out. No matter what they say or do to Geralt however, he's not budging on any information. They remark that they have a way to get him to talk. Doesn't matter what they do. He just has to endure. He just has to wait it out. But then they shove in another person in chains, and when the person looks up, Geralt feels his heart drop to his stomach. "Jaskier.." "..Geralt." His hair is longer, and he's grown some stubble. He holds himself with much less confidence, and his eyes look weary and tired. They force Jaskier into a chair in front of Geralt, and Geralt can't even think of the implications he's so happy to see his bard, alive and well. ... Well-ish, he supposes. "Feel like sharing anything now, Witcher?" One asks, and Geralt suddenly comes back to reality, realizing their plan. Before he can even say anything, Jaskier laughs. A full-bellied, proper cackle, even throwing his head back for a moment. "As if! You truly made asses of yourselves! Geralt couldn't care less about me!" They grip Jaskier's hair and tug his head back. "Shut up, before we do it for you." "If you kill me, You'll only be doing both Geralt and me a favor." Jaskier says with a smile, and the man growls and sinks a knife into Jaskier's shoulder. "He's bluffing!" the man yells. Jaskier lets out a horrible little pained gasp at the knife, and his head falls forward as he starts to tear up. "I don't care if there's nothing of the bard left when you finish, as long as you get the butcher fucking talking!" Geralt is panicking. Not that anyone could tell. The rules were to endure. To wait. Yennefer can get him out. But sweet, poor, innocent Jaskier is about to be brutalized the more Geralt doesn't say. Even if he could endure, if he could wait, knowing deep down if he does nothing that it's safer for them, that they'll be saved, he knows he won't be able to. Because it's his Jaskier. He finally found him again, and his bard truly, genuinely believes Geralt would feel nothing but joy upon the minstrel's death. Geralt needs to get his bard out NOW, and he needs to make it all okay again. He needs to tell his Bard everything, he needs to apologize, he needs to kiss him, he needs to smell him happy and content again, he needs- The man stabs a knife into Jaskier's arm, making Jaskier shriek in agony. He needs to kill some people.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

STAR WARS FIC ROULETTE

450 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION!!

STAR WARS FIC ROULETTE

HELLO LOVELIES!

First off, let me say a huge thank you to a completely unexpected following. I never imagined I would hit 450. So as a thank you I'm going to do a lovely celebration

Now, you may be wondering what the heck is a Star Wars Fic Roulette. Well, let me explain...

You can choose two prompts from the two lists below, pick a Star Wars character of your choosing, and I'll write a fic for you.

Now here comes the Roulette part, you won't know what kind of fic it is, until I post it. It could be from any genre, romance, thriller, action, angst, hurt, comfort, etc.

There will be no smut. As you know, I do not write smut. It may lead to spicy, but it'll be like a one or two dot on the spice level. Maybe a three depending.

Anyway, enjoy; and thank you for following, even with the hiatus of some of my other stories.

Special thank you to @novelbear @nightprompts @me-writes-prompts @scealaiscoite @promptlywritingideas @dumplingsjinson @apparentlytheproblem @promptsbytaurie @iken @justmemethings for the prompt lists. And @firstofficerwiggles who always has my back.

Love oo

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[bigfemboyenergy]

oh no not again sighh

welcome back to another case of I REMEMBERED HOW MUCH I LOVE BILL CIPHER AND GRAVITY FALLS

im already swamped with things in my brain and i feel like unproductive shit bc i havent spoken to anyone in hours but! thats okay ig i dont n e e d human interaction right.. haha??

bill cipher though. he has a canon human design (which i assume is mostly a joke but HUH) which is crazy and nightmarish and disgusting (creativity be damned, its horrific, love that for him)

and like ive been desperately waiting for the book of bill for several months now

AND AND topic change!!! i really love writing dipper bc hes a nerd and im a nerd and i genuinely adore his character (sorry mabel likers /j) so i want to write more BUT ITS PROBABLY CRINGE IF I ADD ANYTHING “flavorful” TO IT 💀💀 but uh i think i might just self indulge in a dip & dan just randomly meeting thing i came up with in a comic forever ago mmm

anyway, it goes like this;

Dipper, tired of the repetitiveness of his days working in the Mystery Shack, decides to take a short walk. Just for..”some air”, as he told Mabel, but deep down he knows that isn’t true. He has this yearn for adventure that he wants to fulfill, but he wants to do it alone- a bit unusual for him, he thinks. Alas, he leaves the Shack, determined to find something of interest. He takes with him his very own journal, formatted just like Ford’s, tucked safely under one of his arms.

Walking through the familiar forest around the Mystery Shack, Dipper takes his time to look around. The tall, thick oak trees, the weeds growing from all around the worn, dirt path he’s walking down..it’s very beautiful, but as it grows dark, it feels much more mystical. He takes a small, stable breath as he chooses to stray from the path, the sun lowering in the sky, leaving the moonlight to guide him. This is when Dipper realizes..he forgot to bring a flashlight.

With a slightly-frustrated sigh, he turns to head back home to the Shack, but finds himself a bit lost. Giving up quickly, for the sake of his unparalleled desire to explore, he pushes onwards into the woods. It isn’t long before he wishes he had gone back. The darker it gets, the harder it is for Dipper to keep himself calm. He’s always been fairly paranoid, but in a forest as enchanting and mysterious as this, especially due to the dark, he’s finding it hard not to worry.

As his anxiety builds, fear flowing through his veins as the sky continues to darken above him, the trees towering over him growing thicker as he continues to walk deeper into the woods, only making it harder to see..he finds a light. A soft, calming glow, almost calling out to him. It’s a peaceful green, a bit bewildering, but it does wonders for his anxiety in the moment, before he realizes that something is clearly in the forest with him. However, despite his earlier fear, he can’t seem to feel nearly as scared, the soft light almost comforting him. Taking a second to think, though not nearly enough to make a rational decision, he heads towards the light. Slowly and carefully, he walks towards it, watching as he starts to make out a figure, the supposed source of the glow.

As he continues his slow approach, he stops every few seconds to hide, not wanting to alert the being to his presence. At least he is wary enough to know he could be in danger, though Dipper somewhat laments his lack of thought earlier.

Once he’s close enough to really get a good look, Dipper feels his heartbeat speed up with both excitement and terror. The being looks so human, and yet it all feels so fascinating, as he knows it truly can’t be just that. They appear to be a boy not much older than him, with white hair and..glowing green eyes! Now knowing the source of the light, Dipper feels rather accomplished. He decides that, once he gets home, he’ll postpone everything just to write a bit about this in his journal.

In his excitement, however, Dipper hears a twig crack beneath his feet as he takes a step forward. Without a moment’s hesitation, the boy’s head turns to face his direction; though, luckily, Dipper had already hidden himself behind some close-growing trees, and therefore hasn’t yet been spotted. The boy slowly moves towards Dipper, his feet making no sound, the crunching of the grass and crackling of twigs that would normally come with walking through such a forest..surprisingly not present.

Dipper bursts into a run, panic setting in. He wasn’t thinking for just a second, and now he’s alerted the person to his presence.. he can’t think, he can’t stop, his brain is just telling him to move, his fight or flight kicking in, leading him to run and run with no end in sight. After a long while, with a bit of tripping and getting caught on branches, he finds himself at the edge of the treeline, back at the Mystery Shack. It doesn’t look like the boy followed him. With a long, shaky sigh, Dipper cracks a smile. He did ask for an adventure, and that was just what he got. Entering the Mystery Shack, he immediately heads up the stairs and to his room, eagerly flipping open to a fresh page of his journal, not hesitating to write things down.

Not sparing a detail, he describes the mystery person; a boy of white hair, green eyes, pale skin, and with an eerie, ghastly glow, who makes not a sound when he walks through such an undergrowth-heavy forest.. It intrigues Dipper to no end. He can’t help but want to learn more..

Next time, he thinks, he won’t forget to bring a flashlight.

[silverislander]

day 13: redemption

for as long you live, you are never going to forgive yourself for leaving your sister behind. there is no part of you that can fully accept that it wasn't on purpose, because that's not the point.

the point is that it happened. your mother's last instruction was to keep powder safe, vander's last words were to take care of her, and that day, when powder needed you, you weren't there. you ran away, and then you disappeared for the better part of a decade and let everyone think you were dead, and now you've let her run off gods know where and taken a job hunting her down like an animal. there's no fixing that.

today, though, you are there. you- well, caitlyn, really- finally found her, and she's so close. you are so, so close. you put on your show, call out the wrong name, take a couple poorly-aimed swings at her, make it look convincing. she's mad- mad enough to shoot, which surprises you, but fine, she doesn't hit anyone, so things are going well.

what you don't expect is for caitlyn to be just as angry. you see her adjust the gun out of the corner of your eye. you've gotten really good at reading her mind and you know what she's shooting for.

that's alright, though. you're there this time.

it barely hurts at first, really. compared to anything else you've felt, a gunshot wound is more like a bee sting than the sharp pain you would have expected. it's the shock, though, that gets you: you should know better than to look down at an injury, but you do, and there it is, a big dark stain around a hole in your side.

past that, things get a little hazy.

you find yourself on the ground, so you guess you dropped at some point. jinx's drawings on the stone columns fade in and out of your peripherals, sometimes to black, sometimes blocked out by blue blurs. your most clear sense is smell: you know you smell iron.

"vi, come on, darling, don't- just stay awake. i need you to-"

"violet, please-"

someone is pressing hard on your side and your side is starting to burn and someone else is stroking your face and their hand is cold, and you're not sure exactly who is doing what. everyone is crying except you. you can't find a reason to cry.

you were there this time. it's not redemption- you cannot take back the past- but as your eyelids start to close, as your hearing fades out, you find it feels close enough for comfort.

[abysskeeper]

Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid. For whoever catches your fancy!

(¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ...sorry)

---------

“And…there,” Nox mumbled to herself as she plunged the bottom of her staff into the damp ground.

She took a step back from the last of her work and glanced around to appraise the scene she had spent crafting in the last fifteen or so minutes. Mourning Frost stood straight up like a beacon in the darkness of the lands, illuminated by the magic of her Light cantrip while cold mist bellowed off of it from its enchantments. Behind her, part of the river remained frozen from a well-placed Cone of Cold spell and glowed mystically with the floating orbs from the Dancing Lights she casted in the area. It was as good as she was going to get given her surroundings. All in all, she was satisfied, and now all she had to do was move the modified Sleet Storm over here and everything would be set to go.

Everything but her nerves, at least.

Nox sighed and dusted her hands on her robes, taking a quiet moment to gather herself before embarking back up from the riverbank and into the central courtyard of the Last Light Inn. The courtyard itself looked exactly like the winter wonderland she was attempting to create down by the river, which was no surprise. The first, magical storm she conjured was still going, thick snowflakes still gently falling from the clouds above. The light from Isobel’s shield around the inn glinted off the snow and ice on the ground, making the whole area glitter, and there was a stillness in the air that she had only ever felt in the throes of winter’s weather.

The scene was far more befitting the lands closer to the Dale than the wilting town struggling under Shar’s shadows, but then, that was the entire point. She had wanted to create one night to celebrate their small victories and set everything else aside for a few hours.

There were significantly more celebrants indulging in the magical snow when she slipped away, though. In the time it took for her to go down and back, it seemed like most everyone had dispersed to tend to the rest of their nightly duties before going to bed. Only a few remained meandering about in the courtyard, and it took her a moment before she zeroed in on her sister standing off to the side, leaning against one of the makeshift barricades as she surveyed the area.

“Hey,” Nox greeted as she beelined for the paladin. “Are we alright up here?”

Lux hummed in thought for a moment, blue eyes trailing over the courtyard before she finally nodded. “I think so. Alfira and Lakrissa shepherded the kids to bed with no complaints, so that alone is a win,” she reported.

Nox smiled, managing to tire the kids out enough that there was no backtalk was a win.

“Bex and Danis, as well as some of the Harpers, helped clean up some of the smaller things and have gone off to bed. And Rolan actually wanted to speak with you,” Lux added. She shrugged and glanced at her, answering before Nox could ask, “Don’t know about what, Cal and Lia managed to convince him to go to bed too before you got back.”

“Probably for the best,” Nox muttered. Rolan wasn’t the most contentious relationship she’d ever had with a fellow wizard; in comparison to some he was downright friendly, but after their last encounter with him drunk on both the ale and his sorrows, she wasn’t particularly looking to have another conversation with him quite so soon.

“Probably,” Lux agreed. “Otherwise, everything else is back to normal. Jaheira’s barking orders at the Harpers again to get them back to work. Those not on the nightshift are settling in for the night like everyone else.”

“Not surprising,” Nox chuckled. They hadn’t known the High Harper for long, but it didn’t take any time at all to realize the woman was a hardass. She cared, that much was obvious too, but it was hidden behind three layers of steel. “But…good.”

Content with what her sister told her, Nox nodded to herself and raised her hand. With a wave, she felt the threads of the Weave relax between her fingers. In turn, the snow stopped falling from the sky and, a moment later, what was left coating the ground started to melt away.

Her gaze slipped from the dissipating storm and her eyes fell shut. Her attention turned towards the magic resonating from Mourning Frost, still standing some hundred or so meters away where she left it stuck in the ground. Her hand flicked, the Weave answering her movement by coalescing into a misty-white orb of concentrated magic resting in her palm. “Impero tibi,” Nox whispered, and the orb flickered and burst as she casted another, gentle storm over her staff.

She inhaled through her nose and opened her eyes, turning her focus back to Lux. Her sister was staring back at her curiously and biting the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. Nox resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “If there’s nothing else, then…?” she asked instead.

“There’s nothing else,” Lux confirmed as her smile broke containment. “Go on, go be gross with your wizard,” she said with a shooing motion.

Nox did roll her eyes at that. “I’m not going to be gross with him,” she scowled. That definitely wasn’t the point of what she was trying to do, but Lux had been misconstruing her intentions ever since she brought the idea up with her. “And he’s definitely not ‘my wizard,’” she huffed.

“Sure, sure,” Lux agreed, definitely more in an effort of appeasement than genuine agreement. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who believes that, though.” Without waiting for a reply, she pushed off the barricade and started back for the main building of the inn.

“I…”

Nox cut herself off and followed after her sister, uncertain of how to refute that. It was an argument she was growing tired of having, and she’d resigned to the fact she couldn’t sway what other people believed about her and Gale’s relationship. She also couldn’t deny the small tingle the thought sent through her chest, the kind that made her happier than she cared to admit to, and the kind she would never give Lux the satisfaction of knowing she had.

“That’s not the point,” she said finally.

“I know,” Lux shrugged, “But it’s fun to rile you up.”

Nox responded the only way she knew how and stuck her tongue out at her sister; Lux just grinned back at her and shoved her shoulder. “Besides,” Lux added after a moment, “I do hope you succeed. I’d really like for Gale to take a step back from his whole ‘blowing himself up’ plan too. We all would.”

Right.

That wasn’t quite the goal she was trying to achieve tonight either, but it was a step in the process. Ever since they had encountered Elminster and he charged Gale with Mystra’s orders to end the Absolute, Nox had been driving herself to near insanity while trying to dissuade him from that path. She outright refused to believe the only way they could succeed was by sacrificing one of their own; it was utterly cruel and such a waste of a brilliant mind and even more brilliant man and she…well, she wasn’t focusing on how upsetting it was to her. Her feelings on it didn’t matter, Gale’s did.

Unfortunately, Gale was more than willing to go along with his marching orders. Not without remorse, the way his voice wavered whenever he spoke about the possibility and the way he grew increasingly frustrated with her every time she broached the subject were more than enough proof to her that he didn’t want to die, but he was still moving forward as if it was the best plan they had. She was beginning to run out of time, and as they stepped closer and closer to the answers they sought, she was growing increasingly frantic with her measures. Regrettably, she was also running out of options, the only two left she could think of were either outright forbidding him from blowing himself up or begging him not to—both things she was fully willing to do, but she was doubtful of their efficacy.

After all, how could her words rival those of a Goddess?

But that wasn’t the point. Before she could let herself spiral any further, Nox cut that line of thought off. Tonight was not about another attempt to dissuade Gale from sacrificing himself, at least not directly. She didn’t want to even think about the Orb or Mystra or Ketheric Thorm or the worms in their brains. Tonight was a break they all desperately needed from the tragedies surrounding them, and she refused to let her mood sour. Just for tonight, she wanted to be content.

“Yeah, I hope so too,” Nox mumbled finally, following after Lux as they entered the inn proper.

She took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the change in lighting before looking around. Most of their companions had moved back into the first floor of the inn after the festivities outside had concluded. Lae’zel had her sword in her lap and looked prepared to go out to Dammon’s setup to resharpen her blade. Wyll and Astarion sat adjacent to the bar, sharing a bottle of wine and discussing something or other, while Karlach and Shadwoheart started up a passing conversation with two Harpers in between their shifts. Halsin and Jaheira were nowhere to be seen, but that was hardly a surprise—the former had barely left Thaniel’s side since they had rescued the fey child, and the latter was too busy managing her Harpers to make too many appearances.

Which just left the man she was actually looking for.

Her gaze settled on Gale sitting in a char in the back corner of the main room. Predictably, he had a book in hand and a full goblet of wine sitting on the small table next to him. Whatever he had found to read interested him greatly, and Nox stopped to simply admire the way he studied the book, his brows knit in concentration, dark brown eyes flitting across the pages as they ravenously consumed every word, and his free hand drumming an insouciant rhythm on the arm of the chair. The warm light of the candles hanging around the main room glinted off his soft brown hair—illuminating the lighter strands and a few streaks of gray—and cast shadows across his form near perfectly.

Not for the first time, she was forced to acknowledge he was a strikingly handsome man. However, for the first time, she couldn’t help but consider how gods damned unfair it was that Gale was, by all accounts, the picturesque vision almost every one of her female peers dreamed would be their future husband.

Honestly, she never really understood the appeal in her youth. Why dream of a husband when they all still had so much potential in their fingertips? It likely helped that she never had cause to fantasize either; she did not have any suitors when she was younger and never lamented over that fact, it gave her far more time to endeavor in her studies. Now though, having it all laid out in front of her, and after enduring everything she and Gale had already been through and everything they still could go through together…she was found herself much more amicable to the prospect.

“Some-body’s smit-ten!”

Immediately pulled from her thoughts, Nox jumped when her sister leaned over and sang in her ear. “I am not,” she hissed as she stepped back from Lux’s smirking face. Nox hadn’t even realized she was smiling until she felt her lips pull into a frown. “I am just…considering,” she insisted and subconsciously smoothed down her robes. “He looks…content. I don’t want to bother him if he’s settled in for the evening.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, at least.

“You, of all people, are hardly a bother to him,” Lux rolled her eyes. “Besides, we all just came in from your little snow party anyways, I doubt he’s ‘settled in’. And it’s better to interrupt him now before he’s really into whatever it is he’s reading.”

There was truth to her words, though Nox knew her twin well enough to catch what she was really saying. Lux wasn’t going to let her back out of her plan, which she had no intention of doing, never mind the way she tugged at her sleeves or felt a sharp churning in her gut at the mere thought of walking over to him and asking him to accompany her. What she intended for the evening was hardly that big of a deal, she just desperately wanted it to go well.

“Yeah…yeah, I know. You’re right,” Nox said and heaved a breath. She looked over to Lux with a shaky smile. “Wish me luck?”

“You don’t need luck, Noxy. You got this,” Lux smiled and bumped her hip. “You’ll be fine, so go,” she stressed and nudged her towards the back of the room. “I won’t wait up!” she added over her shoulder before sauntering towards Astarion and Wyll.

“Ugh,” Nox muttered under her breath, fully aware Lux didn’t hear her. Granted, she also knew Lux didn’t need to hear her to know that was her exact response; in the same way she didn’t need to hear Lux chuckling all the way to the bar for her to know that’s exactly what her sister did.

Everything else she said was correct though, Nox didn’t need luck. She was an incredibly skilled wizard with an incredibly detailed plan she had been mapping out during her downtime for the past several days. That aside, even if it weren’t the case, she was still making this attempt with the utmost sincerity, and that was all anyone could really ask for. There was nothing else she could do to ensure it went properly, aside from actually starting it and asking him to join her, which was—naturally—the most difficult part.

Blowing out one more, long breath to still her rattling nerves, she resolved herself and turned to make her way over to Gale.

As she approached, his brown eyes flickered up at her from the book, as one does when they notice movement in their periphery, before returning back to the pages in front of him. She stopped before him and watched as the realization registered in his brain of who was standing in front of him. His eyes lit up and he snapped the book shut.

“Oh, Nox! Hello,” Gale greeted cheerily. He set the book in his lap and smiled up at her. “After your celebration outside, I figured you would retire for the evening.”

“It’s tempting, believe me,” Nox answered with a nervous chuckle.

She could feel the tendrils of exhaustion starting to creep into the edges of her mind—serving more as a reminder she was still not as powerful as she once was rather than as a sign she should stop—but she was choosing to ignore them. She knew she was overexerting herself slightly, but she had already decided it was worth it. The smiles from the refugees and the Harpers were enough alone, and hopefully this would be well worth it as well.

“But…the night isn’t over for me quite yet,” she continued. Realizing that sounded a little more ominous than she intended, she wrung her hands and hastily added, “Well…for us…I guess. I was hoping to talk with you, actually. Do…do you have a moment?”

“Of course. Anything for you,” Gale agreed, and she chose not to ruminate on how easily he said it—as if the thought was second nature. He quickly leafed through the book to mark the page he was on before closing it once more and setting it on the side table next to his wine. “What can I do for you?” he asked, warm brown eyes now solely focused on her.

Gods, how had she not noticed this before? Maybe Lux was right. The only things Nox had ever witnessed him focus on as intently as her right now were his spells on the battlefield, whatever book was lucky enough to capture his complete interest, and his own research and studies. Not that he wasn’t invested in whatever he was doing at any given time, but this was…different. It was more intense, more singularly driven than he usually was, as if the rest of the world simply melted away for him. The inn could spontaneously combust right now, and she wasn’t fully convinced Gale would notice.

You wouldn’t either. Focus, Nox.

“Indulge me?” she asked in return. She pointed behind her towards the inn’s front door and added with a sheepish smile, “I…would appreciate some privacy.”

Gale’s brow rose as his gaze shifted from her towards the door behind her, and then back again. The longer he stared, the hotter she could feel the flames of embarrassment licking at the tips of her ears as she was forced to consider what she just said. She couldn’t really blame him for his silent questioning, that wasn’t the best way to ask and she knew it, but he had been through this with her enough by now to know that any potential innuendo or suggestion she just made wasn’t her intent.

“Very well,” he agreed and rose to his feet before she could clarify. “I must admit, I am intrigued about what you have in mind.”

“Probably not what I just implied,” Nox grumbled. She turned and started for the entrance of the inn, in part to lead the way down to the riverbank, and in part so he couldn’t watch her attempt to contain her blush. She sighed, mumbling, “But by now I am used to making an arse of myself in front of you.”

Gale laughed behind her. “You’re hardly an arse, Nox. I know that is not what you meant,” he reassured. “And my curiosity is genuine. You always come to me with the most fascinating problems or topics of conversation, time spent with you is always quite stimulating, and thus is always time well-spent…in my opinion.”

Instead of containing her blush, she could feel her ears growing hotter with every word he spoke. “Well, if nothing else I can assure you I’m not coming to you with a problem,” Nox answered after a moment. She brushed some hair from her face towards her ears, hoping maybe it would conceal some of the evidence of her embarrassment. “I simply have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” he echoed as he followed after her out the door. “Well, that is…” As he strode up beside her, he grimaced and sighed before inevitably accepting his words were failing him. “…Unexpected.”

Despite herself, Nox couldn’t help but to laugh, and the bundle of nerves sitting in her stomach started unraveling. He had that effect on her, even his blunders were unwittingly charming. “I should certainly hope so, given the nature of surprises,” she teased and threw a grin up at him.

“You know, I am regularly accused of grand verbosity, as most wizards are. I’ve probably had the complaint lobbed at me more than some of the greatest scholars of the realms, and I still somehow so often flounder it with you, Moon Mage,” Gale huffed lightly. “I swear I was cursed not long after making your acquaintance.”

“It’s oft said simplicity is the key to success,” she pointed out, unable to wipe the playful smile off her face. “It is hardly my fault that you do not heed such advice.”

“I suppose there is some merit to advice like that when it is so commonly proffered, and now offered again from someone as intelligent as you,” he sighed with an overexaggerated roll of his eyes. “Fine, then I’ll ask plainly: where are you taking me? What is this surprise?”

Nox tutted and shook her head. “That’s hardly the nature of surprises either,” she answered, but motioned for him to follow her through the courtyard. “You’ll find out soon enough. Come, we’re not going far.”

If Gale had any further, burning curiosities, he did not voice them. He followed after her through the courtyard of the inn and down the slope to the riverbank without another word. She only had to urge him on once, gently tugging on his forearm when he paused to assess the fact the temperature was noticeably dropping as they moved closer to the river. She finally allowed him to stop completely when the results of her magic came into view.

“Nox…?” he asked softly. His footsteps came to a halt with a crunch on the edges of the snow and ice on the ground.

She glanced towards the new, snowy winter wonderland she had created and took in the scene again. Perhaps it wasn’t as subtle as she would have liked, but it was far too late to change anything else now. It was obviously different to the snowy evening she gave the tieflings and Harpers, being a smaller area and more dimly lit. Looking at it again, it was clearly much more intimate, and with that realization she could feel panic seize her throat. It wasn’t that she minded if it was read like that—she should mind, but she didn’t—but if Gale considered it that way and it was not what he wanted, then she would suddenly have a lot of backtracking and explaining to do before she could even attempt to get him to enjoy it, which she certainly hadn’t planned for and had no idea where to even begin—

As quickly as it came, the panic subsided the moment she turned back to address him. Gale was staring up at the gentle snowfall with thinly veiled awe, the light of his smile reaching his eyes as he held out his hand to catch a few flakes on his palm. Nox felt every muscle ease at the sight, and her heart melted more as she watched him hold out his other hand to catch even more of the snow. He had a similar reaction in the courtyard earlier when he first saw the conjured snowfall with the others, but it was interrupted by everyone else also marveling and having fun. Now they were alone—uninterrupted—and the sight of his unabashed joy made all of this preparation worth it on its own.

When he turned his gaze back on her, he somehow only brightened more. “What is all this?”

“Oh, you know…” She shrugged one shoulder sheepishly and swept her eyes over the snow again. “I wanted a party for two is all, just for a little while,” she answered after a moment. “I know it’s nothing compared to Waterdhavian winters,” she added quietly, “But as I said earlier, I figured any small bit of wonder in this land of bleakness was a worthy endeavor.”

“This is no small bit of wonder, Nox,” Gale said with a small shake of his head. He brushed his hands together before resting one gently on her shoulder. “This is magnificent. Truly magical in every sense of the word.”

Something fluttered in her chest at the praise. “I’m glad you think so,” Nox said, relief and sincerity washing through her. She held his gaze with a smile, indulging the warmth blooming in her chest for a few moments, before the realization rang out in her mind that she could simply stay like this forever, but the moment was stretching for too long.

“However…” She cleared her throat and took a reluctant step away from him. “In addition to being pretty, it is also serving a purpose. Follow me.”

She walked over to the bag she left sitting by one of the rocks and knelt down to dust off the coating of snow resting on top. “You’re going to need these,” she declared, pulling a pair of boots out of the bag. She gave them a once over before holding them out for him to take.

Gale also gave them a look over, very obviously feeling the Weave emanating from them. “And these are…?” he asked, taking them from her and turning them over in his hands.

“I’m calling them the Ice Stompers.” That alone should tell him what they were, but she decided to add some context. “Do you remember how I was using the excuse of needing to train my transmuting skills in order to give you more items to consume for the Orb?” she asked and closed the bag.

“Oh, so you are admitting the Orb was the primary reason now?” he asked lightly.

Nox shrugged again and stood back up, brushing snow off of the lower parts of her robes. “I figured you were never fooled, and it is in the distant past…you can’t scold me or try to dissuade me from making the effort now,” she answered. “Also, beside the point. That endeavor did also better my transmutation skills. We…’lost’ the last pair of boots we had that worked well against difficult terrain—” ‘Lost’ was the kinder way of putting it to him, but his lips still pulled into a frown. “—So, I made a new pair. Specifically for ice, in this case.”

“Alright…” Gale said slowly, clearly trying to piece together why that was the case. Despite his confusion, he still did as she asked, dropping one of the boots to the ground and toeing out of his own before stepping into it.

“Do they fit?” Nox asked, head tilting as she examined the boot he now wore. She had gone through a lot of trouble to ensure the size of his boots without letting him onto anything, and she had a hunch the ‘unspecified favor’ she now owed Astarion was going to cost her. If the intel was correct though, then she would happily pay any price.

“They do,” he nodded before repeating the process with the other boot. “Though, I am still unclear as to why I need them.”

“Well…”

It was easier to show him. Without answering, she stepped around him and walked to the part of the river she froze. Tentatively, she placed a foot on the ice and tested its sturdiness before putting her full weight into the step. Certain it was frozen enough by now to not give away, she confidently strode fully onto the ice and slid a bit before turning around and grinning at him, hand outstretched.

Gale stared at her incredulously for several seconds, before eyeing the ice skeptically and then looking back up at her with the same, unconvinced gaze. “You are aware my knees are liable to give way at any moment, correct? Especially in a cold snap such as this?”

It was about the reaction she expected from him. “You do not get to play the old age card to an elf, Gale,” Nox teased.

“I rather think I do, given the biological differences in our aging processes.”

Despite his obvious reticence, Gale still walked over to her, though kept his feet firmly rooted to the snowy grass. “Nox, I know of your confidence on the ice, given your predilection towards the element, so surely by now you must know of my lack thereof? I am hardly as graceful as you,” he said and shot her a small, wry smile. “Might I inquire as to why you thought of this for your ‘party of two’?”

That was also about what she expected in terms of a reaction. She figured he would be reluctant—and she couldn’t entirely blame him—but she had hoped maybe he would humor her, just this once. Nox sighed, attempting not to let too much disappointment shine on her face, but before she could drop her hand, his palm slid against hers. She looked down at their hands and then up to his face, brow raised in question. Gale hadn’t moved from the grass, but one side of his mouth tipped upwards, and he shrugged.

Alright, if he wasn’t fully against the idea, then she could at least work with that. “Do you want the real answer?” she asked. “Or do you want the logical answer I knew I needed to come up with for when you looked at me like I had finally lost my mind at the mere suggestion?”

“Oh, I didn’t expect to have a choice,” Gale chuckled. After thinking it over for a second, he decided, “Let’s start with the logical answer.”

“That’s simple,” she said and held up her finger. “One, we are going to be squaring off against an allegedly immortal man who is more than likely the reason—or part of the reason—we have illithid tadpoles in our heads. Two—” She held up another finger. “—I am, among other things, a wizard predisposed towards ice magic. I am, however, not as well-trained of an evoker as you, and my spells are not always meticulously sculpted.”

She held up a third finger, and with her other hand, tugged on his to pull herself closer to him. “And three, as you’ve already implied, you, dear Wizard of Waterdeep,” she addressed him with a poke to his chest, “Are not the most graceful when it comes to keeping your balance…to put it delicately. You could use some practice before we face our foe, lest you instead wind up falling on your face from a spell I needed to cast.”

“Hm…”

He was mulling over her answer with serious consideration, but as his brown eyes narrowed in thought, she could see a familiar, playful spark igniting under the veneer of genuine deliberation. “I take some offense to that, but as they are my own words and your logic is sound, I suppose I cannot refute it,” he relented.

Given how their debates had gone in the past, that was almost too easy. Still, Nox smirked, rather pleased it hadn’t taken that much to convince him. Yet, her victory was cut short when she stepped back to pull him onto the ice, and instead he pulled her right back to stand in front of him.

“Except,” he countered, his own smile slipping through, “It does beg the question that if you are so concerned over this, why are you not training your spell sculpting in order to be more accommodating?”

Her smirk fell into a pout, and she huffed. “Of these two complications, one is much easier to remedy in the short term,” she pointed out. “I chose the quicker option for our current timeline. Unless you would rather explain to everyone else why we are stalling through the several nights it would take for me to be able to utilize spell sculpting as naturally as I do arcane warding?”

“I would gladly assist you with that, you know,” Gale offered. “You are a quick study on what few skills you do not already possess. It would hardly take any time at all.”

“And you are insufferable,” Nox muttered under her breath, though it carried no bite whatsoever. Something he acknowledged if the way his lips twitched upward was any indication. He enjoyed teasing her far too much. “Alright, how about this, then?” she asked and smiled sweetly up at him. “Step on the ice now, and I swear we will start tomorrow evening.”

Gale laughed, but finally conceded to her request. Hesitantly, he placed one foot on the ice, followed closely by the other. His grip tightened around her hand as she stepped back and he slid in front of her. Nox offered her other hand, which he took readily, before she took another step and pulled him along with her. His legs shook some with the effort to stay steady, but the magic she embedded in the boots held to its purpose of keeping him upright.

“See?” Nox giggled, delighted as they started moving—albeit slowly—around the frozen portion of the river. Her eyes trailed from watching his feet up to meet Gale’s gaze, which rested pleasantly on her. “It’s not so bad, right?”

“No, it isn’t,” he agreed quietly. “Few things are with you.”

He held her stare and she felt as though she were just caught under a Charm spell of his, incapable of glancing away from his purposeful gaze while the sweet words he offered repeated in her mind. Had her presence truly eased him that much? Before she could offer a response, or even process what to make of what he said, one of his legs wobbled again and he leaned forward, his hands pressing harder against hers to steady himself once more.

“Right…well…” Gale coughed to clear his throat. “Now that I have conceded to your wishes, may I ask what the real answer is?”

“Of course,” she agreed, though her voice was distant.

She said nothing for a few moments, instead letting them gain a bit more momentum as she took the steps to mentally shake herself from her temporary stupor. Once her shock from the moment had passed—and she quickly quelled her disappointment over the fact he was no longer gazing at her—she settled on taking her own advice regarding simplicity from earlier. She let go of one of his hands and swung around, gliding beside him.

“Gale…when was the last time you simply had fun with magic?”

“What?” Gale sputtered, nearly tripping over himself with how quickly he turned to look back at her. She put an arm around his waist to steady him, then met his gaze once he settled from his flailing. “I enjoy magic and indulging the Weave every day,” he said quickly. “I thought you would understand that better than anyone.”

“I do, obviously,” she reassured him. “I enjoy orchestrating the Weave as much as the next mage whenever it is necessary, but that isn’t what I meant.”

She let go of his waist after she was assured he was steady again, then took a few steps ahead to actually skate across the ice rather than simply sliding. When she turned around to face him, she pointed at his feet to encourage him to follow suit.

“What I meant is exactly what I asked: when was the last time you used magic for fun?” she clarified. “Not for battling purposes, not for healing or taking care of others, and not for maintaining or proving your place in society. When did you last use magic exclusively for entertainment?”

“Ah…well…”

In place of giving an answer, he mimicked her motions and took a step on the ice. When he didn’t immediately slip, he looked down at his own feet in amazement, and then took another step. He smiled up at her, pride written across his face from managing to skate without falling, only for it to slowly falter and sober as he reconsidered her question.

“I…should suppose it has been a while, under those conditions,” he admitted. “Not since I was with Mystra, I think…though I did not believe you wished to hear more about that, and honestly I would much prefer not speaking on it further now, all things considered.”

Nox sighed. He was correct in his assumptions that she did not want to hear more about his relationship with Mystra—just mention of the Goddess made her almost recoil—but he still wasn’t understanding what she was asking. “That is fair, and also not what I meant. I meant fun, Gale,” she stressed the word to impart its meaning. “Something just for you, something exclusively for your enjoyment, without trying to impress or entertain anyone else.”

Neither of them had explicitly said it, but it was obvious to her at least that during his entire relationship with the Goddess of Magic, Gale was not doing anything without the express intent of impressing her. It was understandable, with him being a mortal and her being a goddess, but the concept was…well it was why it enraged her so. It was upsetting, and the damage was clearly done. That was definitely not what she meant, that ultimately wasn’t fun.

He fell quiet again as he reconsidered her extra clarification, half-skating and half-sliding after her. She watched as his face continued to fall deeper into a frown, and she wondered if he could hear her heart cracking in response in the silence between them.

“It…has been quite a while, then.”

“As I suspected,” Nox muttered. She skated back to his side and reached out, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before looking up at him with a small, weary smile. “If it is any consolation, it’s the same for me as well.”

“I wouldn’t call that consolatory,” he said after a moment. He grasped her hand and looked down at her with a similar, exhausted smile. “But I suppose I am glad—and relatively unsurprised—to hear I am not alone.”

They both fell silent for several minutes, skating side by side and letting the shared sentiment rest between them as they lapped the frozen part of the river a few times. Nox watched him carefully as they went, thoughts straying further from the somewhat depressing, shared reality between them. Instead, her mind turned towards the man beside her now. Gale still stumbled here and there but was beginning to get his legs under him even compared to when he first stepped onto the ice. She probably wouldn’t need to watch over him like this for much longer, and that was a shame.

Winter…suited him, she decided. Snowflakes dotted his hair and there was a light, white dusting covering his shoulders, contrasting beautifully against his lightly tanned skin and the dark violet fabric of his robes. The lights of her cantrips shone and reflected in his eyes and in the cold air around him, giving him an even greater mystical—ethereal, even—appearance. The concentration etched into his face as he focused on his balance was equal parts admirable and adorable, though it did nothing to hide the quiet joy radiating from the small, perhaps subconscious, upwards curve of his lips or the wonder as he glanced up at the gentle snowfall.

This was triumph. She was positively giddy this had worked out exactly as she wished, and it took much of her self-control to not spontaneously burst out into giggles from what felt like a thousand butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She kept it contained, mostly because she found her attention drawn in by having the chance to study him in a moment of solitude. For the second time in one night, Nox was struck yet again by the fact that he was, by all accounts, an incredibly handsome man. A fact that was accompanied by the words her sister had spoken to her earlier in the evening.

Smitten. Was that…was that truly what this was?

“Is something wrong?”

Gale’s voice pulled her from her ruminations, and she blinked up at him to find him looking back down at her, bemused.

Right, she was staring.

“No, no. No, nothing’s wrong,” she said quickly. “It’s just…uh…you’re—” Incredibly attractive and it is surprisingly distracting. “—You’re getting better,” she shrugged weakly.

“Oh! I am glad you believe so! I did not want to say anything and risk making a fool of myself if you disagreed, but I was thinking the same,” he chuckled. “The Ice Stompers are a significant help, naturally. If you told me to do this without them, I’m sure I’d still be as stumbling as a baby fawn learning to walk, but I believe I am starting to get a feel for the movements,” he smiled and squeezed her hand again. “And I will admit it is rather enjoyable to be able to accompany you.”

She grinned upon hearing that, beyond thrilled to hear him confirm her initial purpose was a success. “Excellent!” she beamed. Immediately, she registered her enthusiasm as being a little too much and she glanced away. “That’s…that is all I was looking for,” she added, schooling her voice into a calmer tone. “I am incredibly glad to hear it.”

Gale chuckled again and pulled her closer to his side, the action urging her to look back at him. He smiled down at her with warm, contemplative eyes languidly taking her in, and she was yet again mesmerized by how he appeared under the dim lights and gently falling snow. Now, she was also pulled in by how he looked at her: patient, understanding, and with a warmth she could never identify beyond how it made her stomach flip.

“It has been a while for you as well, hasn’t it?” Gale mused after a few moments of thoughtful silence.

“It…” She blinked. “…Pardon?” she fumbled, bewildered as her mind caught up with what he said.

“Apologies, I meant no insult,” he clarified quickly. “I just do not believe I have ever seen you look this…light before.” He immediately frowned and shook his head. “By which I mean, you are usually much more focused and intense with…well, just about everything you do. It is admirable and amazing to witness, mind you! But…”

His eyes softened when he dared to meet her befuddled gaze again. “I have never seen you truly smile like this before, and it is an honor to catch more than a mere glimpse of it. Your smile is a breathtaking sight—you are a breathtaking sight!—but it does put much into perspective.”

“…Oh,” Nox muttered, unable to piece together much else. Her head swam with his words, both the compliment—he liked her smile—and at the underlying implication of what he said. That he knew her enough by now to visibly see she was speaking the truth earlier.

His free hand swung out, motioning towards their surroundings and recentering her on the present moment instead of her runaway thoughts. “You said yourself that it has been a while since you have simply had fun with magic, as well,” Gale repeated softly.

“It is rather obvious when you know, isn’t it?” she asked with an awkward laugh. After a moment, a long sigh escaped her—as much of an acknowledgment of his question as it was to calm her own nerves—and she nodded. “It has been a while; I assure you I was not lying just to sympathize.”

“Then, may I pose your question back to you?” he asked tentatively.

“I…suppose that is only fair,” Nox agreed. It was probably in her best interest to have a change in subject and a topic to focus her thoughts on anyways. “Even though you technically have not yet answered. ‘A while’ is not a satisfactory answer,” she pointed out lightly.

Despite her momentary distraction throwing her completely off-kilter, she had prepared an answer for this question. She had expected he would inquire about her as well simply because, at worst, Gale was never afraid to pose her prying questions back to her, which she respected him all the more for. And at best…he cared for her the same way she cared for him. Either way, she had already figured she would need to answer this question for herself tonight as well.

“Honestly? The night we shared the Weave together was the most fun I have had with magic in a long, long while,” Nox said.

Gale snorted in response and quirked a brow. “I do not believe that night fits the criteria you placed on me. As I recall it, you were trying to upstage me for most of the evening,” he pointed out.

“Indeed I was! And that was the most fun I’ve had in ages!” When he frowned at her, she shook her head and nudged him lightly, enough to tease but not enough to send him sprawling on the ice. “I’m kidding…because you are correct,” she said, sobering. “I did spend most of that night trying to one up and impress you, mostly because I believed I still had something to prove to you. You were the first of our peers in over fifty years who, once you knew who I was, decided I didn’t have something to prove, after all.”

“And I still believe most of our peers are fools for that alone,” Gale interjected.

She flashed him an appreciative smile before continuing, “And yet…despite that, that night was also the first spark in reminding me how much I enjoyed magic on its own.” She glanced down at their still joined hands, her smile slipping with her thoughts. “It was a wake-up call for me to realize how long it had truly been since I last genuinely enjoyed magic for magic. It was also a blatant reminder for how much I used to enjoy sharing it with others, and a blatant contrast for how…”

Nox sighed, her eyes drifting towards the small expanse of snow and ice before them. “Well…for how isolating it has been since my mother passed, if I’m to be honest,” she admitted, her voice nearly cracking. It was a truth she had known for years, one she let lie dormant in the back of her mind, but not one she had ever voiced aloud before. It was high time to acknowledge it, she could acknowledge it now, because of him.

Gale’s hand squeezed around hers, but she didn’t dare look up. She had no desire to cry tonight, and she knew she could get through this small explanation without doing so, so long as she did not look up. If she saw the sympathy shining in his eyes—something she knew would be there no matter what—she wasn’t positive she would be able to hold back.

“I still have people, I know. Lux has quite literally been by my side since we were born, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for the Elturian refugees, I’ve made pleasant acquaintances all along the Sword Coast during my travels, and even now we have our little party of misfits whom I’ve grown to love. I’m not alone…but it’s not the same,” she sighed again. “Magic is the biggest part of my life, and it’s not the same when you can’t share something so instrumental to yourself with others. Or you can share it, but you know they can’t understand it in the way you need them to. I at least had Kalden for a time, but then I lost him in Avernus and…”

She gave one, sharp shake of her head and pulled back the tears pricking her eyes before they started flowing. In the back of her mind, she acknowledged this was probably the most she had spoken about herself since they had met, and the most she had spoken about all she had been through ever. It was not a topic she intended to discuss in full tonight, and not one she wanted to dwell on any longer than necessary, but one she knew she needed to explain—at least in part—in order to impart the sincerity of what she was about to admit. Vulnerability was, unfortunately, the only way she could think of to do as she needed.

Instead of continuing, she took a large breath and squared her shoulders before turning to look back up at Gale. He was watching her silently—a rarity for him—with the sympathy she knew would be there blazing in his eyes and a firm grip on her hand in reassurance.

“My point,” Nox said, forcing the shakiness from her voice. “My point is that you threw me a lifeline that night, Gale. One I didn’t even know I needed until I found myself clinging to it days later.”

“Nox.”

Gale’s hand tightened around hers as he slowed to a stop. He pulled her to stand in front of him once more and let go of her hand to gently reach out and grip both of her arms. “I had no idea that night meant that much to you,” he whispered. His eyes widened a bit with his words, and he was quick to add, “Make no mistake, I enjoyed it immensely and it has quickly become one of my fondest memories, but I never realized you regarded it as highly as you did.”

She gave him a small smile to assuage his concerns. She knew he was being genuine and not simply stating that to appease her, just as she knew that night likely did mean a great deal to him as well.

“No words could properly convey just how immeasurably flattered I am to hear that you do regard that night as you say,” he continued. His thumbs brushed over her shoulders, tracing circles into the bit of snow clinging to her robes. “And I am beyond grateful to know I was able to offer you such safety, however accidentally it was at the time.”

“How accidental it was is the beauty of it, I think,” Nox softly said. It was true they both had ulterior motives that night, but the connection they forged despite that was undeniably ironclad and had genuinely become that lifeline for her. There was something deeply poetic to it that she acknowledged but couldn’t articulate. “And it is also what ultimately led us here. It was what ultimately made me reflect, on myself of course, but also on you.”

“On me?”

She nodded and brought a hand up to lightly rest over one of his, delicately tracing down the backs of his fingers with her own. “The more you spoke of your own experiences—how few, if any, friends you had, how you were isolated away from the world you should have been a part of, the entirety of Mystra and the Orb—the more it felt…familiar. Not exactly the same, but enough. And the more it felt familiar, the more I wished to offer the same to you as you did for me.”

“Oh…” Gale breathed out. “I…” He stumbled over his words, a breathy laugh pushing past his lips instead. “I find myself rather lacking in the proper words at the moment. A year’s worth of isolation and no one, aside from Tara, ever so much as thought to do the same for me as you are now…”

“I know,” she whispered while gently threading her fingers through his. “You don’t have to say anything. Gods above, I rarely have the proper words for a moment and am often rendered silent, it is nice to have the tables turned for once,” she joked.

The corners of his eyes crinkled when he grinned at her, and she saw the twinkle of a few tears glimmering in the soft light of her magic. He said nothing further though, simply squeezed her fingers with his in silent appreciation.

“But truly, we all need a break,” Nox continued. She tilted her head to lay her cheek on their joined hands resting on her shoulder. “It has just been rather obvious that you had a higher need than the rest of us, all things considered. So, I wished to offer what I could, recognizing that I was uniquely capable amongst our friends in that regard. A wizard would know best what a wizard needs, after all.”

“It would certainly appear so,” he agreed quietly with a subtle nod.

His eyes trailed from hers down to where their hands rested under her cheek, and she moved her head back when she felt his hand shift against her shoulder. She watched, curious, as he clutched her hand and drew it towards his face. She only had a moment of recognition before his thumb traced down her palm and he leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between her hand and his lips.

“Oh.” The startled gasp escaped her without warning when he placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. Her wide eyes looked up from their hands to find a set of warm, brown eyes staring back at her, positively entranced. “Okay…”

“Your sentiment is well-received, Nox,” Gale mumbled, lips ghosting over her skin as his warm breath flitted down the back of her hand and wrist. “And I cherish it well beyond what I am able to properly voice.”

“I am more than satisfied with knowing you are enjoying yourself, though I assure you it’s—” Her lips parted with another sharp intake of breath when he moved up, pressing a kiss to the base of her middle finger. Nox bit down on her bottom lip, barely catching an overwhelmingly exuberant giggle before it bubbled out. A smile still tugged at the corners of her mouth. “—It was truly no trouble at all, hardly worthy of such gratitude.”

“That you genuinely believe it to be no trouble means it is only all the more worthy,” he refuted softly, before kissing her finger one more time and meeting her gaze again. She saw the hints of his smirk hiding behind their hands before he added, “Even if I cannot quite fathom why you believed it was a good idea to bring an old wizard with bad knees into such a cold snap.”

She was lightheaded, her heart ready to burst with the happiness from knowing she was successful and all the praises he was offering her. She couldn’t prevent herself from laughing this time at the absurdity of his teasing in comparison to everything else. “Oh, come off it! You’re hardly old, and you’ve been perfectly fine since we started,” Nox scoffed. With her hand still in his, she pulled him back into moving again as she resumed skating. “You’re truly not going to let this go, are you?”

“It is simply an interesting choice, is all I am implying,” Gale chuckled. He allowed her to guide him back on the ice, though. “And a far cry different than sharing the Weave.”

“Naturally. I had to figure out something different to sharing the Weave, you already laid claim to that,” she responded as if it were obvious. “So, I got to brainstorming and…admittedly, probably lost myself to the nostalgia of everything else.”

His fingers threaded through hers as they fell into a comfortable speed gliding around the ice once more. He appeared confident enough by now that he likely didn’t her as a safety net anymore, but she was in no spot to complain that he was still holding her hand.

“The truth is…I did this often as a child,” Nox admitted. She glanced up at him for a brief moment, and then turned her attention to the falling snow. “I was…not the most social of individuals in my youth—” That was the kinder way to put it. “—I was…different. There are not many elves in Elturel, and not many children were quite as taken with their studies as I was. So when Lux wasn’t around, I often found myself alone with nothing to do, and taken with my studies as I was, practicing what I could of my magic helped ease the boredom and loneliness.”

She smiled as her face turned upward, a few flakes landing on her nose and cheeks. After a moment, she tugged him forward, pulling him towards the center of her magical winter. “It also helped for me to create my isolation in the form of something beautiful. You have enjoyed many a Waterdhavian winters, have you not?” she asked, slowing to stand in the middle of the icy patch on the river.

“Several during my time, yes,” Gale answered.

“Then you understand what it is like to stand in a snowstorm in the middle of the night?” she asked softly, violet eyes searching his face in earnest. When he opened his mouth to answer, she held up a finger and lightly shook her head. “You know the stillness of it? To be surrounded by nothing but the darkness of the night and the white of the snow? To hear nothing but the quiet snowfall mixed with the sounds of your own breath?”

He didn’t try to speak again, and her hand slowly returned to her side. Instead, his gaze focused on hers as their breaths fell in sync. In place of their words, the slight patter of snowflakes against the ice could be heard interspersed between every quiet inhale and exhale they took. There was nothing else, no sound coming from the Last Light Inn or the ravaged, cursed lands around Moonrise Towers. No screams, no laughs, no fighting or struggling for survival.

For one, blissful moment, it was just her and Gale and the quiet snowfall.

It was the stillness she spoke of, the one she knew resided in her heart and the one she had conjured for herself a hundred times. The one she never realized until now—until her chest tightened the longer she gazed up at him in this moment—she had been aching to share with another who would understand.

And Gale did understand, given how his hand tightened around hers and given just how easily his face smoothed into a wonderful tenderness the longer he smiled down at her. Hesitantly, his other hand reached out and gently grabbed at her waist, drawing her just the slightest bit closer. When she didn’t resist—when she couldn’t resist with how erratically her heart beat at the gesture—he settled his hand on her hip and gave the slightest bit of a nod.

“Can you feel it now? How it is to be a single, solitary creature witnessing something marvelous?” she breathed out, her words catching a few times. “To witness something mystical and so tremendously beautiful you only have the opportunity to experience it in the utmost privacy away from the world around you?”

His eyes dipped, slowly trailing down her form and back up again in admiration and—if she dared believe it—longing. “I have always found winter beautiful, but never quite to this degree,” Gale said, barely above a whisper. “Though with you—” He looked over her again as he cleared his throat, presumably to remove the roughness from his voice. “—With how you speak of it, I certainly understand the appeal.”

She spared a sidelong glance towards the snow, her smile light as her face warmed. “It is likely the predisposition towards ice magic that makes me speak of winter as if I’m insane,” Nox joked, feeling an indescribable need to lessen her words for a reason she couldn’t quite place. Embarrassment hung off of her shoulders, but it was not the type she was used to feeling in the face of her own earnestness. It was softer now, and she didn’t quite mind its presence as much.

“I enjoyed it immensely when I was younger, if that isn’t obvious,” she chuckled. “I still immensely enjoy being able to conjure my own personal winter to dance and play in as I see fit. But it’s been well over fifty years since I have last indulged myself, and even then…the last time I did, it wasn’t for myself.”

The last time she had done this had been for Kalden, for his first date with his future wife. It was a fact she briefly acknowledged when the idea first struck her and then one she did not consider again. She was rather keen on avoiding it altogether, having no desire to unpack the implications of that fact, or even let on that any implications existed at all.

“So, with some reflection accidentally brought on by you, I decided it was time to try again,” Nox said instead. “And I thought that this time, perhaps I could share a little piece of my own, personal serenity. I figured, perhaps, you needed it more than I did.”

Gale didn’t respond immediately, choosing instead to study her silently with a warm, near-hypnotic gaze. She was enraptured again, unable to glance away from his penetrating, brown eyes as he stared into her own, and unable to speak on anything more. He searched her eyes as if he was looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t voiced, and she was uncertain as to what that could possibly be. When he evidently found whatever it was he sought from her gaze, he finally ducked his head and chuckled in embarrassment.

“I…suppose I should rescind my prior complaints,” he muttered. His head was still bowed, but he glanced over at her from his position and gave her an apologetic smile. “That is monumentally thoughtful, and as only you are wont to do, you have endeared me entirely to the concept.”

She blinked, caught off guard that he was even concerned about that. “You were only joking, I know,” she reassured and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I took no offense, I swear.”

His eyes slid to look at her hand, then back to her face. “Still, this is sincerely one of the most heartfelt things anyone has ever given me,” he said and straightened. “If I had understood how much it meant to you…”

“It’s fine, Gale,” Nox cut him off with a small laugh. “You didn’t have the context because I never gave it to you, and I understand how it could have been easily misconstrued.” She sighed quietly and squeezed his shoulder. “You know, I only ever intended this to be for you.”

It was Gale’s turn to be caught off guard, if how he stared down at her was any indicator. “How do you mean, exactly?”

“The stuff earlier with the refugees and the Harpers?” she asked rhetorically and then shook her head. “That wasn’t in my plan. This was only ever meant for you, but after rescuing the prisoners and reuniting everyone, the atmosphere still felt quite dour.” Understandably so, they had rescued everyone from Moonrise Towers, but that didn’t eliminate the ordeal and all the prisoners had already been through. “I felt obligated to do…well, something, and I already had most of the logistics of it worked out. It wasn’t…this…”

Nox sighed, motioning around them at the snow and lights. “It wasn’t the quiet and the solitude, it wasn’t me trying to impart the peace the snow grants me, but it was a few hours of playful mischief with some winter weather,” she shrugged, “I understand how you could have believed I was asking for the same with you.”

“You care for the refugees a great deal,” Gale said, something like realization lighting up behind his eyes.

“I…do,” she agreed with just a touch of hesitation. “I’ve never made that a secret.”

“Then…I would not be presumptuous to say you also care for me a great deal,” he added quietly. It wasn’t quite a question—if anything it was the second half to a logic puzzle—but his desire for an answer was evident.

“I…suppose,” she agreed tentatively.

She immediately regretted the words the moment they left her lips. That answer was far too hesitant, far too uncertain for a truth she had readily accepted for well over a month now. He deserved to know that truth if he was questioning it. She deserved to say it wholly.

“Yes, I do,” Nox corrected after a moment, sounding much more determined in her answer. “And if you have to question that, I suppose I’ve made that more of a secret than I’ve intended.”

“Or perhaps I was simply refusing to believe what was in front of me,” Gale mumbled, his mind obviously distantly in his thoughts. As if shaking himself, his eyes refocused on her with a sudden clarity, a renewed brightness, and a subtle hint of absolute terror. Her heart flopped over in her chest.

“I understand now, Nox,” he said softly.

After flopping over, her heart leapt into her throat as her wavering gaze snapped up to meet his, startled by his words. “Understand…what, exactly?” she forced out. What was there to understand?

“I understand…” His eyes searched hers again while he trailed off. She probably would have accosted anyone other than Gale, but with him, all she could do was stare back, mystified.

After a moment, he released a breath and shook his head. “I…understand why they call you Archmage,” he answered with a weak smile.

Disappointment dropped low in her gut, though she couldn’t quite place why. His admittance was not what she expected—she wasn’t sure what she expected—though it was enough to calm her racing heart. She swallowed back the lingering lump in her throat before daring to speak. “That’s a people’s title, Gale, nothing more,” she smiled wanly.

“It means the world to them. It matters to them,” he disagreed. His hand pressed into her hip a bit as his eager eyes sought out hers. “Just as it matters to me. It’s admirable, and worth much more than simply being gifted it.”

The sentiment was kind, but she still blew out a breath and shook her head. “Most mages would disagree with you.”

“And as we’ve already established, most of our peers are fools,” he said resolutely. “Most of our peers are quick to write off everyone they meet based on a first glance and snap judgment. The people who know you, who have spent time with you, those who have been under your protection and those who have fought by your side…they are the ones whose opinions matter, because they are the ones whose opinions are true. And the refugees?” he asked rhetorically. “They are the people who know you. They are the ones who like you, who trust you…you make them feel safe, Nox.”

“’Safe’?” she echoed, incredulous. He had a point, and though she was taken aback at how eager he was to get it across, she could admit it was there. She had not given much thought towards what most of their peers considered of her in a long while. But…safety was not where she expected him to end that proclamation.

“’Safe’ is not the word I would expect to be associated with,” Nox chuckled with no small amount of self-deprecation coloring her voice. “Irritating? Sure. Confusing? Certainly. But safe? The blunt, wandering hermit more interested in whatever book her nose found itself stuck in rather than those around her? I doubt most people come away from an interaction with me feeling safe.”

“I mean it,” he insisted. Her gaze started pulling away, uncertainty flooding her veins, but he hooked a finger under her chin and forced her attention back to him. She refused to dwell on the small, surprised breath she sucked in at his action.

“Verbosity aside, I am not one to speak words I do not believe in,” Gale said. “We are all rough around the edges. I have heard my ego likened to that of a strutting peacock, for instance. Perhaps you are brusque and blunt or uncertain and awkward, but you breed a sense of safety wherever you reside, and people can feel your sincerity. After all, who else would manage to free every individual trapped in a cult’s high security prison, and then throw them a small party in celebration to ease their nerves?”

It was hardly fair to expect her to be unaffected by his words or the closeness they now shared. The snow started falling harder above them, and her eyes turned upwards to watch the path of a few flakes as they descended from the sky and landed in the soft brown locks of his hair or the velvety purple fabric covering his shoulders and arms. When she returned her attention to him, he was still gazing down at her with a blazing sincerity that made her chest constrict and stole the breath from her lungs.

Gale’s visage staring down at her now, under the light and snow of the magic she orchestrated in the Weave for him, was an image she would carry with her for the rest of her long life.

“At the very least, I know that there is no one else in my life who would witness me struggling as I have been and decide—correctly, I might add—that I needed to have some fun with magic, and that means something. It has to mean something, it is worth so…so very much,” he whispered.

Her eyes fell shut and she bit the edge of her bottom lip. It did mean something.

“I have understood for a while now how you earned your title,” he continued, and she opened her eyes back up to watch him. “You are well-versed in the Art and undeniably talented, but over time I have realized it is so much more. Beyond power and intelligence—both you have in abundance, mind—being an Archmage is about capability and safety, strength and kindness…”

He sighed and shook his head, almost in disbelief at her. “You have earned the title twice over by those standards since I have met you alone, just as you have earned the admiration and love and camaraderie of the people around you. You…you are the promise of a better tomorrow, Nox’ani,” he said quietly, “You are the brightness of a better future, and I am a better man simply by knowing you.”

“Gale…”

She faltered in the face of such praise. What was there that she could possibly say to that? Under normal circumstances, she would mutter her gratitude, an apology, and then walk away, but this was not normal circumstance. This was Gale, and such an admittance coming from him required eloquence in response, something she lacked on a good day, let alone when he stunned her into silence.

“Gale, I…”

Nox struggled again, trailing off with a sigh. After taking a moment to regain some grip on her composure, she blew out a long breath and nodded. The only appropriate way to respond was as she had done before, with vulnerability. The best option was by speaking what she felt in her heart. “If that is all the requirements for the title, then perhaps that is why I am so willing to grant it to you, as well.”

Surprise sparked to life in his dark eyes, only to be snuffed out by a profound sadness. “I am afraid I lost all rights to that title over a year ago. Not…entirely unjustly, at that.”

“We all make mistakes—a part of a wizard’s charm, really,” she joked with a tight smile. “You are twice the man now you ever were then, I can tell. There is no reason you cannot work towards rectifying your mistake and reclaiming the title,” she said, her smile growing more sincere. “And if that is the case, then all I ask is that you allow me the honor to be the first to call you Archmage once more.”

With glassy eyes, Gale smiled down at her, and traced his thumb just under her bottom lip. “Coming from you, that carries a lot of weight,” he whispered. “It carries a grand amount of meaning, and a grand amount of hope. It…” He paused, grief briefly flickering across his eyes. “It would be nice to live up to your expectations, one day.”

“No more than it would be for me to live up to yours,” she breathed. “But you will, I believe,” Nox added, “And maybe through that, so will I.”

A small hum rumbled in his throat in agreement. He said nothing further though, his eyes instead flickering downwards, mapping a delicate path over her nose and cheeks before settling on her mouth. She waited for several seconds, not moving, not breathing as his hooded gaze rested on her lips, until his thumb moved up to trace over the curve of her bottom lip.

“Gale…?” she asked on a shuddering breath.

His eyes snapped back to hers, and she could’ve easily gotten lost in the dark, heated depths. “Nox…” he mumbled, leaning closer to her. He tilted her head up a little further and his eyes fell back down to her parted lips. “May I…”

Before either could move any further, a violet light flared between them that had them both peeling back from one another. Nox watched, flabbergasted, as the Orb flared to life in his chest, seemingly in response to one of the globes from her Dancing Lights floating too closely to them. She looked up to Gale in question, but he appeared just as shocked and harried as she felt, his frantic hands smoothing over his chest as he stared down at the Orb.

“I guess it still likes my magic,” Nox remarked, the logical part of her brain apparently ahead of the rest of her.

It made sense, Dancing Lights was the spell she fed directly to the Orb when they were bereft of all other options. Despite being calmed, the Orb still responded to magic it recognized—that was the only explanation for what just happened, and she supposed it was lucky that it only responded to the one spell she gave it directly and not all of her magic in general.

But it just had to happen now. Though, perhaps that was for the best. As her eyes locked with his, she understood the Orb was serving as a grim reminder for the realization that just tore through her with its flash.

You are in love with a dead man, Nox.

In love. For the first time, she was in love. That was the only explanation for the rush of emotion that surged through her veins once she realized they weren’t in imminent danger. The disappointment at the moment lost, the fear—not for her life, but for losing the man in front of her, and all the grief that carried, the loss itself, and the desire to go back. The overwhelming urge to hold him in her arms again, to assure him this was alright, that everything would be alright and they could—they would get through it. Gods, if nothing else, there was nothing more she wanted than to feel the hand he was using to readjust his robes back under her chin again, guiding her back to him.

She was in love, for the first time. That should have been terrifying enough on its own—and it was—but of course there had to be more. Of course it had to be with Gale. Of course, it had to be with a man slipping through her fingers as easily as the Weave did when she cast a spell, as easily as the water of the Chionthar on a hot, sunny day. A man so brilliant and breathtakingly bright who was divinely charged to burst and fade away, to dim until there was nothing left of him at all.

She was in love with a dead man walking. A man she desperately, desperately wanted to save.

“Apologies,” Gale said, a panic-tinged, embarrassed chuckle escaping him and ripping her from her thoughts. His other hand rested over his chest, covering the offending light as it slowly dimmed back into dormancy. “Leave it to me to ruin the fun, eh?”

“No!” she was quick to dispute. “No, not at all, Gale, I…”

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Before she knew what she was doing, Nox glided forward and rested her hand over his. She almost regretted it when she looked up and could see a reflection of her fear in his gaze. Reticence and awkwardness thinly masked the terror sparking behind his eyes. Fear at the sudden realization they had gotten close, closer than perhaps either one of them intended. Fear at the realization of what exactly this was buzzing between them, fear that it was much more than either of them believed, and how all of it should have been wonderful. But when mixed with the sudden, blazing reminder of what they couldn’t…what they shouldn’t have, how wonderful a thing it was blossoming between them was cast into shadow.

It was…it was why she never considered it before now, not consciously anyways. Some, subconscious part of her had kept this fact hidden from her. Now though…well, there was no way of unknowing it now. She loved him. She still couldn’t speak the words, but she loved him. Yet, judging by the way he was staring down at her, wide-eyed and silent, he didn’t want to hear those words any more than she wanted to say them.

Fear choked them both. Fear left her love gasping before it could even breathe.

“I…had a lovely time,” Nox said softly. As quickly as she went to him, she reluctantly pulled away. “I only hope you can say the same.”

“I can…I did,” he nodded. “It was wonderful, Nox.”

“I’m pleased to hear it,” she smiled, hoping it appeared genuine. She meant her words, but the act of smiling now left her stomach feeling ill. “I suppose we should end it here, then, lest the Orb decide to go back to its old ways.”

He took the cue and followed after her as she turned around and led him back to the bank of the river. Once assured he was on solid ground again, she gave him another half-hearted smile before trudging over to her staff. She only dared to look back once she reached Mourning Frost; with one hand on her staff, only then did she finally feel steady enough to glance back.

Gale still stood on the edge of the riverbank, having not moved an inch. He was watching her closely, dark eyes unreadable despite the dim light illuminating him. Her cantrips still hung around the area, casting everything in a rather romantic light and making the snow sparkle. The scene she had so carefully crafted, so lovingly put every ounce of her heart into in order to offer a few hours of peace, now left a bitter taste in her mouth. And Gale…and Gale.

The snow still fell around him, blowing slightly on the breeze blowing between them. In the center of the snowstorm, he was the stillness she was looking for, she understood that now. He was the peace. It was a sight, an indescribably powerful feeling she desperately needed to imprint onto her deepest memories. If she could have nothing else, she never wanted to lose the image of the man that stood before her now.

She never wanted to lose the man either, but that…that was not for her to decide, no matter how much she raged against that fact. All she could do…all she could control was how she remembered this moment.

She wanted it to be good. She knew it would only ever be bittersweet.

Nox always knew a little moment of serenity was never going to last forever. It never did. It was just a shame it was ending like this. There was nothing more she wanted to do than run back to him, to wrap him in her arms and kiss him like they were about to, and then never let him go. But no matter how much she desired it, she couldn’t urge her legs forward. She wouldn’t…she couldn’t do that, for the exact same reason she knew he stood several paces behind her, watching her silently and nothing more.

She loved him. There was nothing either of them could do about that.

Her hand gripped tighter around her staff, knuckles white with the effort, until she plucked it from the ground and settled it on her back. The lights began fading, and the snow slowly stopped its descent. She waved a hand and the Weave relaxed between her fingers, while a part of her mind finally sighed in relief over the concentration no longer being necessary. The magic was gone, and the sorrow that always accompanied her at the end of a time like this clung extra tightly to her heart now.

“I suppose we should all take our rest, now,” Nox muttered and turned away, uncertain if he even heard her. “Good night, Gale.”

“Good night,” Gale responded just as quietly. “And thank you for tonight, Nox’ani.”

[aceghosts]

Baby, All I Want Is You

Summary:

“You have that look again.” “What look?” He asks, shooting them a charming smile. “The one where you’re planning something.”

A short scene where Rooney and Yorinobu flirt with each other. Title comes from nightlife's nightlifetypebeat.

Rating: T

Warnings: Suggestive flirting between two exes who have it bad for each other. That's it.

Words: 1,377 words.

Author's Note: I'm gonna keep it real with everybody; this was just a self-indulgent excuse to write Rooney and Yorinobu flirting with each other. Also, this was inspired by this tumblr post.

Taglist (opt in/out): @bbrocklesnar, @marivenah, @alexxmason, @captmactavish, @carlosoliveiraa, @nightbloodbix, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @clicheantagonist, @strangefable, @theelderhazelnut, @voidika, @cassietrn, @cloudofbutterflies92, @direwombat

AO3

“How do I look?” Yorinobu asks, stepping out of the bathroom and into the main area of the penthouse suite. While a genuine question, he could not resist the desire to show off to Rooney, to have their focus solely on him. He turns toward them, Rooney leaning against the wall nearest the bathroom door. They push off the wall, facing him as they put their hands on their hips. Rooney tilts their head, brows furrowed with an inquisitive look in their eyes as they look him over. Most would assume Rooney’s permanent frown meant they detested his outfit. Yorinobu knows them too well to believe that; he delights in reading them better than anyone else. (His favorite expression is when Rooney smiles softly, happiness reaching their eyes, a look typically reserved for him.) Yorinobu teases with a slightly cocky tone, “If you are too horrified to answer, perhaps I should-.”

“Your collar,” Their hands leave their hips as they walk over to him, “I’ll fix it for you.”

He nods, Rooney’s hands coming up to his lavender shirt collar to fix it. As they focus, Yorinobu studies their face carefully. Rooney’s dark blue eyes the same color as the ocean on a bright sunny day or a stormy night, depending on their mood. Their freckles dappled across their face like stars shining brightly in the night sky.  The scars on their forehead and nose, earned from hard-won battles, defiant till the end. Their pale pink lips set in a thin line, close enough for him to kiss. Rooney’s hands move to his suit jacket collar, their touch faint through the dark maroon fabric. Giving him a curious look, Rooney states suspiciously, “You have that look again.”    “What look?” He asks, shooting them a charming smile. 

“The one where you’re planning something.”

“I might be planning something,” Yorinobu shrugs, as Rooney’s hands move down to the lapel of his jacket. He shivers underneath their touch, relishing in it.  With a heavy sigh, Yorinobu starts, “It is such a shame I am going to this party alone. I wish I had-.”

“No,” Rooney replies, a response that would sound curt and brutal to most. Only Yorinobu notices the way the corners of their mouth twitch upward, the playfulness in their eyes. 

“I did not ask you to accompany me, and yet, you turn me down?” Yorinobu places his hands on their waist.

“Then ask.”

“Rooney Shepard,” Yorinobu starts, deeply serious, “Would you accompany me as my date to this party?”

“Hmm…,” They start, tilting their head for a second as they pretend to think before answering with a smirk, “No.” 

“No?”

“You know how much I hate those parties. You’re the only reason I ever tolerated going.” True. Rooney always hated them, sucking it up for Yorinobu when they were dating. He also knew that Rooney looked forward to the night being over, especially when they got Yorinobu all to themself. “I’m also not dressed for the event. I doubt private investigator chic meets the dress code,” Rooney adds, finishing fixing his jacket lapels. 

“I think you look gorgeous in ‘private investigator chic’,” Their hands rest on his chest as Yorinobu leans in closer, “especially when you wear leather like you are now.” The tight leather pants made their legs look so long and their ass look fantastic. There was only one place better he could think that those pants belonged, besides on Rooney. 

Rooney rolls their eyes, a faint red on their cheeks. “Yorinobu, no one will approve of clothes that I’ve had blood cleaned out of, and you only approve because you think I look hot.”     “Their loss.”

Rooney lets out a genuine laugh, a delightful sound. Sidestepping his comment, they reply, “To answer your original question, you look very handsome.”

“Handsome?” In a perfect world, Rooney would tell him he is handsome all the time, but alas, Yorinobu will take it where he can.   “You’ve always looked great in that shade of maroon, and,” They brush off his shoulders, eyes looking over his chest and arms, “That jacket fits you really well. Really, really well.” Apparently, Yorinobu is not the only one who has been looking, and it thrills him. “I’m sure all eyes will be on you.”

“What if I do not care for their eyes on me? What if I want you to look at me? What if I think you are the only one who matters?” A loaded question that he knows Rooney will attempt to sidestep.

“Yori.” Their nickname for him slips out, another sign that his feelings are not one-sided, no matter how much Rooney might try to deny it.  “You don’t need me to flatter your ego. I’m sure you’ll get enough of that tonight.” They pull away from him, slipping out of his grasp once again.  “You should get going. Want me to walk you to the AV?”

He nods, noticing the soft, adoring look they give him.  “I would appreciate it. May I help you with your coat?”

“Yes, please.” He picks up the dark blue and black coat, the one they were so fond of wearing. Yorinobu helps them into the jacket, allowing Rooney to get fully settled. “You should come with me,” He says, leaning in close, “No one will even think about admonishing you for the dress code if you are by my side. Or we could stop somewhere for you to get appropriate formal wear. I could even help you pick your outfit out.”

Rooney shivers, a contented hum escaping from their lips. “Answer is still no,” they pull away, holding out their arm for him to take, “Come on, Yori. Let’s get you to that party.”

He takes their arm, Rooney by his side feeling so natural and right. As the pair head up the stairs, Yorinobu asks, “What would it take for you to say yes? If you asked, I would make it so.”   “Yori, you know I don’t want anything from you. Just getting to be in your company is enough.” Some things never change. Rooney was still sentimental, content to be in his space and spend quality time with him. “I guess you could get me to come for work, but-,” Rooney gives him a knowing look, “I can’t go with you tonight for work.”

“Why not?”

“Promised Reggie, one of the local fixers in Watson, that I would do a stakeout for her. And, I like Reggie. She’s a good person, a little paranoid.”

“One might say that about you.” They roll their eyes in amusement, this time. The doors to the AV pad slide open, Rooney stepping through the doorway with him, “I will have to ask you to go with me as a work obligation next time.”

“Or,” Rooney stresses, accompanying him up the stairs, “You could ask me as a friend. I might be your ex, but I’m still your friend.”

“Friends.” Yorinobu can work with that. He would prefer the title of ‘partner’ or ‘lover’, but being their friend is better than being their ex. 

Rooney nods as the duo step onto the AV pad. One of his assistants comes up to him, Aria, holopad in hand. “Yorinobu-sama, Shepard,” she greets them both, “We need to leave.”

“One moment, please,” He replies, dismissing her. Turning to Rooney, he opens his mouth to speak. 

“I’ll see you later,” They say, giving him an encouraging smile, “Don’t worry. You’ve got this.” Their smile morphs into a devious smirk, sending a shiver of pleasure through him. Leaning in close, Rooney teases, only loud enough for him to hear, “And if I was your date, I don’t think we would make it to the party.” He sees a hungry look in their eyes, their need for him just as strong as his for them.

Fuck the party. Fuck their stakeout. He is staying here with them and-. “Enjoy your party,” They purr, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Yorinobu reaches out for their wrists, attempting to pull them back in. Rooney masterfully sidesteps him, winking at him. They turn their back to Yorinobu, walking away before he can get another chance.

Yorinobu swallows, a lump in his throat. Oh, this was going to be a long night. 

[artemis-73]

Suptober Day 8: Witch's Brew

All Charlie wanted was for the big finale of the Moondoor season to be epic. It was starting to get colder, and with the chill came a hiatus. No one wanted to freeze their butts off in a field, after all. Dean had assured her that what she already had in mind was perfect, but she wanted an extra something to make the season stand out from all the ones that had come before it.

When she researched possible special effects, beyond the fireworks and smoke machines, she'd found a single message board post with a handful of replies of someone talking about their final LARP session before they had to move across the country, where they'd paid a pretty penny for a transfiguration potion from a local apothecary. They'd done the entire session as an actual orc.

That was where the maybe-probably witch came into the picture.

In a local Facebook group for gamers, someone had mentioned in passing getting a tincture for their carpal tunnel five years before. Apparently the witch had been surly but fairly priced, and the cure had worked.

Charlie had messaged them for an address and hoped that it was still accurate.

The shack--really, it couldn't be called anything more--was crammed into the back alley of a butcher shop. It looked abandoned except for the freshly-painted "Meg's" in swooping letters on the door and the tiny neon sign in the window that declared the shop open.

Charlie was surprised the door didn't shriek like something out of an old horror movie. Instead, it swung open easily to reveal a cozy room with burgundy walls and rows of rough wood shelves covered in vials, jars, and flasks.

There was a bar-height counter on the far side of the room, upon which sat an old timey cast iron cash register and a flickering candle that smelled like tobacco and cinnamon.

"Hello?" Charlie called into the empty room, hesitant to step in.

"Do you need a hand-written invitation?" a muffled voice drawled from somewhere behind the counter. There was the distinct sound of glasses clinking together. "I'm a little busy!"

"Sorry! I'll just take a look around."

"You do that."

Even though she had no idea what she was really looking for and would much rather have asked the witch, she forced herself to start perusing the shelves in silence. All of the containers were clearly labeled, but they were small potatoes: arthritis, chapped lips, dry eyes, indigestion.

A muffled curse came from behind the counter.

"Um, do you--" Charlie started then stopped herself. She didn't want to be a bother, but... "Do you need some help?"

A frustrated huff then "Fine."

More hesitantly than was warranted for someone who had offered to help, she rounded the counter and was surprised to find a hole into some sort of cellar.

"Here," the familiar voice said before a box of potions was lifted high enough for her to reach.

It was heavier than it looked, but she managed to get it up onto the counter. She turned around, not sure if there'd be another box, but was met instead with a woman--Meg, presumably--darting up the ladder. Charlie nearly leapt out of her skin.

"Hello," she said a little breathlessly.

Meg arched one unimpressed brow at her. "Hi. Can you--" She gestured to the customer side of the counter.

"Right. Totally. Sorry." Charlie backed away.

She'd expected an old crone, but Meg was, well, not that. She looked to be about Charlie's age, and she was wearing leather and had mischievous, dark eyes that gave Charlie butterflies like she was teenager again.

"Did you find what you need?" the witch asked as she swung the door over the hole and locked it.

"Actually, I was wondering if you could help me with something more...custom?"

Meg visibly perked up at that, though she tried to hide it. "Maybe. If the price is right."

"It will be."

"Well, why didn't you lead with that?"

"You're, like, really intimidating," Charlie word-vomited like an idiot. "And hot. Oh my god. I'm so sorry. That's weird. That's so weird. I can leave."

Meg smiled, sharp and amused, and tilted her head like she was looking at Charlie for the first time. "I'll take the compliment if you're serious about forking out some cash."

Three hours later, Charlie left the shop with a potion that would make her sprout wings and levitate--which was totally fucking awesome--and Meg's number. To report on how the session went and in case she ever wanted another potion, of course.

[iamvegorott]

Could we maybe get a little Danti one shot of them celebrating Darks birthday? (Maybe even on the fruitie side too?) Thinking Anti threatened some of the egos so they could have the day together, and if he didn’t Wilford probably helped him -🎃

Now that it's actually Dark's birthday, I can post this XD

----------

Dark’s day started off like any other day for him. So far, the only strange thing he’s noticed was that Anti had woken up before him. It was a rarity for Anti to be up and about before Dark was, normally staying in bed for at least another hour or so after him and sometimes even managing to convince Dark to stay in bed longer by quite literally holding him in the bed.  

Anti had one hell of a death grip when he wanted cuddles. 

Dark hummed to himself in thought as he mused about what would cause Anti to rise early. Perhaps the Septiceyes had an event planned that he had forgotten. Dark would need to check his planner to be sure. If there was something they had going on, he’d need to be prepared for what might come from it.  

“Wilford?” Dark paused when he reached his office and saw Wilford inside it, holding the door with a hand. 

“Nuh-uh, no working today.” Wilford wagged a finger before closing the door and in the next blink, he was next to Dark with the strong scent of artificial bubblegum in the air. “There are other things to be attended to.” He placed his hands on the back of Dark’s shoulders and started walking him down the hall. Dark didn’t bother resisting since it was often easier to go with whatever Wilford was up to and then catch up after he was done. 

“May I ask what is being attended to?” Dark was led to the dining room and sat in one of the chairs. “Now it’s not a question, it’s a demand.” He said when a pink streamer was around his waist ‘tying’ him to the chair.  

“You know that’s more of a suggestion than a restraint.” Wilford chuckled, sitting on the edge of the table next to Dark. “But I would say it would work out so much better for you if you stay. A certain someone’s had to pull a lot of favors to allow you two to be left alone for the whole day. Well, I shouldn’t say favors, more like making a lot of threats but it’s all the same.”  

“How about some context?” Dark was never one to be fond of being left out of the loop. He was used to being the one organizing things that involved himself.  

“That will be provided soon enough. Have fun~” Wilford sang before waving to Dark and then disappearing in an over-the-top cloud of pink smoke. As the smoke faded, Dark was greeted with the sight of Anti smiling at him and holding a plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. 

“If you wanted to have breakfast together, you just had to ask.” Dark smiled back.  

“It’s more than just that Darky.” Anti sat the plate in front of Dark, sitting where Wilford had been moments ago and loading the fork he held with some of the scrambled eggs. “It’s a special day.” He held the forkful of food toward Dark’s mouth.  

“Is it?” Dark never expected himself to have two people in his life who he often just followed their lead. But here he was, allowing himself to be tied to a chair by Wilford and letting Anti feed him.  

“It’s your birthday.” Anti loaded the fork again as Dark chewed.  

“I forgot.” Dark shrugged. 

“You didn’t forget, you just don’t care. But I do and we’re going to have a fun day together.” Anti fed Dark again and placed the fork down in favor of picking up a piece of bacon.  

“Do I get to hear what any of these plans are?” Dark asked, taking a bite of the bacon that was held out to him.  

“Nope.” Anti giggled and then leaned over to whisper into Dark’s ear. “But I do know that you’ll love what I have planned for dessert~”  

“I guess I could handle celebrating my birthday this year.” Dark chuckled. 

“It’s cute that you think you have a choice.”  

---------- 

@bookwormscififan @rattyboyisemo 

[yujeong]

kpanniversary2024, prompt 9: Trust

Kim realized pretty quickly why he had been attacked. Curiosity killed the cat had given it away but even without it, it was clear the reason had been to stop his investigation from advancing. The investigation about one of the most earth-shattering events that had happened in his life. Tankhun’s kidnapping. Right now, he was at a dead end. He needed a lead, anything to move his investigation forward. He had been working alone all this time but a tiny voice in his head was giving him ideas. Pete had skills. Pete was loyal, not only to his family - to Korn - but to him as well. He had proven that by becoming a human shield for him. Kim would be a fool to deny that. And Pete liked Tankhun. He had never complained like the others had, begging Korn to transfer them to him or Kinn. He was good to his brother, a fact Kim was thankful for. So maybe, it was worth a try. He knew it was a risk, such a huge risk, so many things could go wrong and yet- “Pete,” he said, his voice wavering. Kim made a decision. He made it by saying something he had been certain he would go through his entire life without uttering. “I need your help.”

(Snippet from The Knight's Pawn because I love that fic to death ❤️)

[avareiahgt]

First time participating in Gt July Prompts. It will be impossible to have one update a day since my job won't give me enough time, but I'll try to write them all even if it's not in time.

So that's the thing. Here we go with the first day, a million thanks to @gianttol for bringing them up 💙

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

G/T JULY PROMPTS 2024.

DAY 1: MIRTH

—How is it that I’d never thought of this before? —the blondest of us asked more to himself than to me.

—It’s horrible, worst idea ever— I started only to get cut off as Ryan decided bungee jumping off my shoulder, drying my throat instantly.

—Damn, damn, damn! —my hands went crazy trying to catch him, tossing away the smartphone who knows where without even realizing it. All my efforts were focused on the task of actually saving him from the fall from the skyscraper that I was to him.

The more I moved and failed on my chore, the harder and higher his form was flying, spinning and bouncing. Lucky him, that freaking handmade harness worked too much well and maintained him enough fastened to not meet the actual meaning of fly.

I didn’t realize I was lowering myself on a try to minimize the bungee movements. After countless attempts I managed to hold tight that bungee that now seemed diabolic to me. Lifting it to my face I found Ryan, dangling there, laughing the heck out of him so hard that he had no time for breathing in between.

—Dude, you should have seen your face, oh God. I should have had a camera right on my head because that look you gave was incredible!! — spinning slowly in the open air that loud laughing kept filling my parent’s kitchen.

—Don’t you ever do that again, man! What would happen if the bungee wasn’t placed correctly? — I lectured him.

—But it was, Connor! Come on, it was the funniest thing we’ve done so far this year— he claimed while holding the rope with both hands and started to move like he was swimming on air—. It was perfectly safe but you getting mad over it and moving like that just made it, I don’t know, ten times better —I knew I couldn’t erase that smile on his face.

—Well… it was a bit funny to see you bouncing and jumping everywhere. I would have enjoyed it way more if I were not having a freaking panic attack you know…

—I could repeat it right now— Ryan offered.

I stood on my full height at once while talking.

—Don’t you dare to…

BOOOOOM. My head crushed heavily onto the kitchen cupboard that was right above me. At the hit, took my hands to the top of my head as if I could cure the pain, so I released the rope and Ryan went down again, then up, and a mix of feelings scaped his mouth.

—Wow, boy, are you ok? That was amazing! I think your head broke the cabinet. What a strength, oh my…— and emerged in fits of laughter once again.

I could not forget the ache on my skull, but I giggled thinking about the circumstances. So, there we were, laughing our asses off until Jamie came into our view.

He checked us eyes wide from the entry hall. He seemed ready to go, but stopped in order to have a peak at our experiment. His mouth opened briefly and then he closed it without a sound. Something told me he had seen everything since the beginning.

The three of us stared at the others for some seconds and then…

—You both are extremely stupid— and he made his way out giving us a shoulder shrug.

Really alone this time, Ryan and I locked eyes and did nothing more than explode into an outburst of laugher once again. At least, bungee jumping was a success.

[thesconesyard]

Where the West Begins

23. Mirage

Scotty sighed as he worked in the garden. Leonard had been acting strange the past week and no matter how Scotty watched he couldn’t tell what was wrong. Not quite a month ago Leonard had gotten another strange letter from Gaila and had disappeared for an afternoon.

It made Scotty’s stomach twist with worry even as he reminded himself that Leonard was allowed to have his secrets. Everyone on the ranch had their pasts, but it was their futures they all worked towards together. Scotty knew about Leonard’s previous life and Scotty had told him about his own.

He just hoped nothing was wrong.

Around him Keenser’s birds chirped and chased each other and Scotty tried to just enjoy the warm sun above him and the cool earth below.

In the evening he walked with Leonard to their favorite spot by the creek. The doctor’s mind seemed elsewhere as Scotty bumped his hand against his. With a sigh he brought his fingers back to his own side.

“Have I done something wrong, Len?”

For a moment he wondered if Leonard had heard him, but then the other man slowly looked at him in surprise.

“Of course not!” he said with feeling. “You could never do anything wrong!”

“Oh.”

Leonard sat down beside the tree and pulled Scotty down with him.

“I’m sorry Monty,” Leonard said, looking down at his lap. “I’ve been thinking about something and I just…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.” He looked up then and caught Scotty’s eye. “I’ll do better, I promise.”

“Oh Len,” Scotty said quickly. “I just worried, that’s all.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Leonard said, still looking at Scotty. He smiled slowly and moved in close. Scotty let out a brief chuckle and met him halfway.

Leonard had left early. Scotty sighed as he worked in the garden again. The greenery was soothing, but he still was worried. The doctor had promised the night before to do better, but then he’d left again without saying why. He and Honey had been gone as soon as breakfast was finished. Scotty had helped the ladies with the washing up and when he had gotten outside, Leonard was just passing the gate.

“Am I missing something?” he had asked Christine as she came out on the porch.

She shook her head, and touched his arm. “I’m sure it's fine. He takes spells from time to time. Just be there for him.”

Another sigh. If Leonard was having a hard time, then Scotty would do his damndest to support him. After all they’d all had their hardships. Scotty knew he had his own moments of grief for the life and brother he had left behind. He kept those moments mostly tucked away and carried on as normally as he could when they hit.

Leonard needed his space. He took care of his memories differently. Scotty couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to not have been able to save his father.

Eventually Scotty’s thoughts moved on. The sun was warm and the plants were growing. And wasn’t that what he should focus on; life moving on and growing?

Keenser had come to join him and Jaylah after that. Scotty smiled and laughed with his friends. Keenser whistled them a song that sounded like his birds. When he finished Scotty began to sing an old song he knew from when he was a boy. The old Gaelic words fell from his lips. Keenser closed his eyes and nodded along.

To Scotty’s surprise a voice joined him in singing the song. No one spoke Gaelic on the ranch. He turned around so fast his hat nearly fell off.

Leonard was standing at the garden gate. Scotty’s voice faltered as he saw the man standing with him, who was finishing Scotty’s song.

“No…” Scotty whispered, his legs nearly giving out underneath him. “It cannae be!”

“Halo a bhràthair.”

“Robbie?” Scotty whispered. He looked at Leonard who was smiling with his whole being. “Robbie!” Scotty yelled. Somehow he made it across the garden and threw himself at his brother.

“Monty!” said an old familiar voice as arms Scotty never thought he’d feel again surrounded him.

“How!?” Scotty pulled back to look at his brother, then closed the gap and hugged him again. “How?”

Robbie laughed, but Scotty could hear the tears as well. His own face was wet.

“I cannae believe it!” Scotty said again, moving back to look his brother up and down and take him in. “This is real?”

“It’s real darlin’,” said Leonard, still beaming.

“I’ve missed ye so much Monty,” said Robbie, wiping a hand across his face.

Scotty wiped his own eyes. “I never thought…”

“Ye’d see me again?” Robbie laughed. “I thought the same until about a year ago when I received a letter from a Dr. McCoy.”

“But the MacLeods—”

“Dead,” said Robbie. “About a year after ye left. A deal with the Gordon’s gone wrong.”

“All this time—”

“Ye could have come back and ye didn’t know,” Robbie said with a sad smile.

Scotty didn’t know what to say. He stared at his long lost brother and couldn’t help but hug him tight again just to make sure it was really real.

[sesshy380]

Current Mood:

[corvidcrafts273]

y'know, a pause in production is a good thing, means i have more time to figure out my own version of a sequel

[the-chickenshit-oddity]

hear me out. a story where A's friend C calls A's love interest B - currently on the outs - all worried like 'something must be really wrong! they're moping!'. and then B shows up in a panic thinking A's at the edge of a breakdown and they're just casually wringing out a mop in the sink.