#ogam marek

[fidgetnano19]

Day 7, Part 1: Eyes to the Grave

I guess you could say that this is what happens when Fidget is scolding herself for focusing too heavily on dialogue on Day 5? I wanted to work more Einnet parts in, but it just didn't come out that way...

Griaria, 13 years ago

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Marek stood quietly, eyes to the grave in front of him, careful not to bother mama during the service. She had already explained that his father wouldn't come back again, not like the times he went on long trips and gave him gifts when he returned. As for why they wouldn't see each other anymore, Marek was still a little confused about that part... something about souls, or his father being with Kea now. 

When he'd asked if he could go there, too, just to visit, mama only wept harder, squeezing him so hard to her chest that he could hardly breathe. He didn't ask that question again, or any others. Today, he was just glad she was out of bed, with her beautiful purple hair brushed and swept up on top of her head by the servants. He gripped her hand tighter every time she sniffled, silently begging her not to cry again.

Across from them, on the other side of the big, stone box, Egom Cillian stood with his family. He'd met them before, he vaguely remembered, when the new Eika was announced – Reidory. She was there, too, though she looked more like one of the children than a wife. She'd given him treats at her wedding, and told him he was pretty.

He shook his head, reminding himself to pay attention to what the man in robes was saying, even if he didn't really understand the words. He had wondered why they weren't being said in his language, but mama told him it was because of something called tradition. He had no idea what that was, but again, he was trying not to bother her with questions.

He watched Brexton's mouth move silently, mimicking the robed man's words. Did he speak tradition? His eyes – silver, like the ring on mama's hand – lifted, meeting Marek's. His mouth stopped moving, formed a soft smile.

Marek smiled back, because Brexton was nice to him at the wedding, too, taking him outside to play when he didn't want to sit still anymore. In exchange, he'd shared some of the candy Reidory had given him.

The man in robes stopped talking, and everyone took turns walking up to the large box, rubbing their hands over the smooth stone, or leaving flowers on top. Marek eyed the flowers greedily, wondering if he could take a few for himself, but he forgot all about them when mama's hands started shaking, fat tears falling from behind the black veil that covered her face.

...

"Marek!" Brexton called out to him as soon as he and mama stepped out of the coach.

Mama let go of his hand, nodding that it was alright for him to go off on his own. He watched her head inside the palace with some of his father's men, while Brexton approached him, carrying a small child in his arms. She had thick hair that looked like Marek's, and big blue eyes.

"We're going to play in the gardens." Brexton explained, nodding behind him – toward Reidory. "Do you want to come?"

He brightened, his mood lifting as he accepted Brexton's outstretched hand. It was cold, much colder than mama's, but he didn't mind it too much. "What are we playing?"

"Hmm... how about hide-away?"

"I'm really, really good at that game!"

Brexton laughed, leading him to the side of the palace.

"Brexton! If you don't put Finnoula down once in a while, she'll never learn to walk!" Reidory scolded them when they got near, wrangling the child out of his hold and setting her down on the ground. "I swear, you spoil her too much."

"It can't be helped, Kiga." Brexton shrugged his large shoulders. "She is my bond, after all. Plus, I like spoiling her." He stopped, his fingers loosening as he glanced around the garden. "Where did Torin go?"

Reidory's face clouded for a moment, reminding Marek of mama's. Her smile, when it came, was tight-lipped – like the smiles his father's men had been giving him for days.

"He said he didn't want to play." She turned to Marek, bending down to stroke her fingers through his long hair. "If it isn't my sweet little nephew! Are you going to join in?"

"He's going to be my special helper", Brexton announced, giving him a quick nudge. "How about boys against girls? We'll be 'it', first."

The other girl, who Brexton introduced as Einnet, ran off to hide along with Reidory and Finnoula. Brexton and Marek covered their eyes, counting out loud until they reached twenty-five.

They had already found Einnet, curled up under a bench, and were off looking for Reidory when a loud voice disrupted their game.

"Reidory! Where are you?!"

Brexton's eyes widened, and he tugged Marek behind a row of nearby hedges, pressing against the top of his head in a silent command to duck. "New game, Marek. We're hiding from that man, okay?"

"Why?"

Brexton placed a finger over his mouth, shushing him instead of giving him an answer.

"Reidory! Come out here, now!"

He heard a rustling sound somewhere nearby, and the sound of running feet.

"I'm right here, Lazzari. There's no need to shout."

"What are you doing out here? Look at your hair, it's a mess." There were a few moments of quiet, followed by, "We're going inside, try to behave yourself."

"But we're still play–"

There was a loud sound – like hands clapping – then quiet crying.

"Enough nonsense. You are an Eika, and you should be inside with the adults... Unless you'd rather go back home, hmm?"

"N–no, sir."

"Good, then give that thing back to Einnet and follow me."

"Who was that?" Marek asked, once Brexton stood up again, peeking carefully over the hedges.

"Reidory's egomija... and my father. Come on, let's go back to Einnet."

Marek thought Brexton would offer his hand again, but he didn't. Instead, he held his hands at his side – curled into fists, with a thin layer of ice covering them.

The frost vanished as they approached the benches, meeting up with Einnet.

"Lazzari just–"

"We heard. Aww, did he scare you, Finny?" Brexton scooped Finnoula out of her arms, cradling the small girl to his chest. "I've got you now, so don't worry." He turned his attention back to Einnet, his expression growing more serious. "You should find Torin, tell him what happened. Whatever you do, don't let Lazzari see you, got it?"

Einnet promised that she'd be careful and ran off in search of the other boy, leaving the three of them alone in the garden.

For a long while, Brexton didn't say anything, just watched her leave until they couldn't see her anymore. Finnoula squirmed in his arms, and this snapped him out of whatever he was thinking about. He shifted her weight up on his shoulder and turned back to Marek.

"We don't have enough people for hide-away, anymore, but would you like to throw some snowballs?"

Marek scrunched his face, sure that Brexton was teasing him. It wasn't anywhere near time for snow. The leaves weren't even gold yet.

Before he could point that out, Brexton set the baby on the ground. He pulled a small stick out of his pocket, and waved it through the air. Marek could hardly believe his eyes. Snow! All over the ground at their feet, and it was the perfect sort for building or throwing.

"Can you really make snow, just like that?" Marek asked, staring up at him with the most intense admiration he'd ever felt in his young life.

"It's not a big deal, really. I have an ice mija, so I can do things like this." He bent down, encouraging Finnoula to touch the fluffy white snow. "Someday, I'll use it to protect Finny, here. Your mother has a bond, doesn't she?"

Marek thought hard, but he couldn't recall knowing anybody like that. Here in the palace, there were only the servants, and father's men. "I don't think so."

"Brex!" The other boy, the one with the fiery red hair – just like Reidory's, skidded to a stop right at the edge of the snow, frowning down at them. "He'll catch you, you know."

"We're just having a little fun. Besides, he already went in."

"Did he– he took Dory in with him?"

Brexton tucked the wand away, busying himself with collecting snow in his big hands. "Yeah, a little bit ago. Scolded her for playing with us, then dragged her away to be with the adults. Didn't Einnet tell you as much?"

"She did." He nudged a small pile of snow with the toe of his boot, staring down at the pattern his sole left behind. "It's fine, isn't it? She's one of them now."

Brexton frowned, standing to hurl the snowball at the older boy's face. "I hate it when you sound like him."

Marek tried to ignore their bickering, gathering up snow to form something resembling a brick. It was hard to do, especially with Finnoula trying to 'help', but he managed it. After that, he made another, and another, creating a ring with them.

"Do what you want..." Torin said, eventually, storming away.

"Idiot." Brexton mumbled it, but Marek heard it well enough. "How about that snowball fight, now?"

Marek nodded enthusiastically, crushing one of his bricks to make the first ball, his sad attempt at building a castle completely forgotton.

They played outside until the servants called them in for dinner. Brexton made all of the snow vanish with just a snap of his fingers, which Marek thought was an even better trick than when he'd made it appear in the first place.

"Brexton?"

"You can just call me Brex. Almost everyone does."

"Brex..." He tried it out, deciding he liked it much better. "How come Reidory doesn't want to go home?" He walked alongside Brexton, hopping over the cracks in the cobblestone.

"She's afraid of the dogs."

"Oh..." He didn't really understand why anyone would be afraid of dogs, or what that had to do with going home, but he pretended to. There were lots of things he was afraid of, so it made a little sense.

They were sat around a big table, with more food than Marek thought he'd ever seen before in his life being served on the good, silver dishes. Marek picked a seat between Brexton and Einnet, and the two of them snuck their vegetables onto his plate, saying he'd get big if he ate them. He could tell it was a trick, but he ate them anyway.

"Getting tired?" Brexton cocked his head to peek down at him, letting Marek lean against his arm.

"A little. Are you staying here tonight?"

"Yup. It's a long way back to Terracia, so we're not leaving until morning."

"Will you sleep in my room? I used to sleep with mama, but she won't let me anymore."

Brexton looked around the table, like he wanted to ask someone about it, but didn't know who. "Sure."

[fidgetnano19]

Day 7, Part 3: Isolation

Warnings: Verbal abuse, breaking of a cinnamon roll

Ceamar, 9 years ago

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"Marek?"

Marek stared at the ceiling, too nervous to answer his brother's call. Orestes had ordered him not to speak to anyone else, not even his own mother – not that she ever tried to visit him, anyway – days ago.

"Can you hear me?"

Just go away, Haru... Please!

"Father said you weren't feeling well," There was a rustling sound, then a soft thump against the door. "Maybe you're sleeping?"

He stayed quiet, deciding it would be better for both of them if Haru believed that, if he gave up and went back across the hall to his own room, before his father came back to check on Marek.

The truth was that he was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. He wanted to sleep beside Haru, with the older boy petting his hair and assuring him that everything would be alright, that they were brothers now, and he would protect him from all of his nightmares.

No, that wasn't quite right. It wasn't Haru that he missed, it was...

Zain!

If he fought, if he really struggled, he could almost remember his Kiga's face, his gentle smile, and wide blue eyes that sparkled like the sea near their hometown. He could nearly picture him, but of course, that was impossible. Zain never existed, except inside Marek's imagination.

He raked his hands through what was left of his hair, twisting his fingers in the butchered ends, wondering what a boy he'd never even met would say if he saw the once beautiful locks in such a pitiful state.

"I brought a story with me", Haru went on, breaking Marek's already fragile concentration. "The Sleeping Onai. I–I'm gonna read it to you, okay? Just in case you're still awake."

Temptation getting the better of him, Marek scooted off of the bed, tip-toing across the room until he was sitting beside the door, so he could hear the story better. He already knew this one, but it hardly mattered. Fairy stories were his favourites, and listening to Haru read would make him feel better, even if he didn't dare respond.

"Once ap–upon a time,"

Marek shifted forward, pressing his ear against the door so he wouldn't miss a word.

"In a kingdom far, far away... Father?"

"What are you doing?" The sound of Egom Orestes' deep voice sent Marek scrambling for the bed again.

He dove in, tugging the blankets up until he was almost completely hidden beneath them.

"Go back to your room, Kuniharu. It's late."

"I, I was j–just trying to make Marek feel better. He's not used to sleeping alone, and–"

"If you want him to feel better, then let him get his rest. You're only making him worse, keeping him awake like this."

"Yes, Father. I'm sorry", was quickly followed with, "Goodnight, Marek."

Keys jingled, and the door swung open, revealing Orestes and his egomija standing somberly in the doorway.

"Stay here, give me a minute with my son", the word hung in the stale air of the bedroom, choking Marek as the door closed again, trapping him in that awful room.

I'm not your son!

He bit his tongue, forcing himself not to say it out loud. He already knew all too well what would happen if he did.

The door closed behind Orestes, and in the blink of an eye the hulking giant of a man was standing next to the bed, ripping the covers away.

"Quit pretending, you're not asleep!"

Marek swallowed hard, opening his eyes to appease him.

"So, now you've got my son coddling you the same way your mother does?"

Marek shook his head frantically, trying to find a way to explain himself. He needed to tell him that he hadn't done anything wrong, hadn't even spoken to Haru the entire time he was locked in this room. Every single thing he could come up with died in his throat, useless excuses that would only serve to make this man angrier.

"Speak up! You're a boy, aren't you? How can you live with yourself, letting others do everything for you?"

Tears prickled his eyes, making it even harder to follow orders. He tried to bat them away, but Orestes pinned his arms high above his head.

"Can't even speak for yourself, brat? Why are you crying? I haven't done anything to you, except for give you decent clothes and a proper haircut, and keep you and your worthless mother off the streets. If anything, you should be thanking me for all the trouble I've gone through."

"E, E seh–"

The pressure around his wrists tightened painfully, until he was afraid his bones would crack under the strain.

"Not like that! Don't you dare speak that trash to me."

He clenched his legs together, silently praying that the growing wet spot between them would go unnoticed.

"Nothing? Ungrateful little shit. Maybe you'll be more cooperative after your treatment."

Thankfully, Orestes walked away, opening the door to let his egomija in.

"Do whatever it takes", was the last thing he said before leaving them alone together in the room, locking the door again behind him.

...

"Marek!" Kuniharu burst through the door, anxious to see the younger boy after over a week of being separated.

It felt so much longer than that since the last time Marek slept next to him, the last time he'd heard his soft, whispery voice.

"Marek, are you awake?"

His purple eyes were wide open, but he stared, unblinking, at the ceiling. Kuniharu couldn't even tell that Marek knew he was next to him at all.

He climbed onto the bed, bringing his face into Marek's line of sight, determined to gain the younger boy's attention. "Father said I could visit." He frowned, giving Marek a chance to answer, before adding, "Your fever finally broke. Isn't that great?"

"What did you do to him?!" Kuniharu spun, glaring at his father's egomija, his fists curled and ready to lash out. "Why won't he answer me?"

"I– I tried to tell you, Koja. He hasn't spoken in two days." The woman clasped her hands in front of her long skirt, bowing her head. "The trea– the fever, it's done something to his mind. He won't move, and we've... he's being spoonfed, like an infant."

The boy reached out, sweeping a hand across Marek's forehead.

"Ah, you shouldn't–" She reached a hand to stop him, but it was too late.

Marek shot upright, wailing in agony at the slightest contact. Tears poured down his round cheeks, pooling on the wool pyjamas he was wearing.

The egomija hurried to the bedside, shushing Marek until he flopped back down onto the bed, his body going limp as a discarded ragdoll. "He... This happens every time he's touched. We have to be careful while we're feeding and dressing him, or else..." She trailed off, her shoulders dropping as she looked over Marek's small body.

He'd heard it, the screaming. Across the hall, in his own room, but he had no idea that it was caused by something like this.

"Fix him."

"I– I'm trying every–"

"Fix him! Now!" He stood, pounding his fists uselessly against her stomach until she wrapped her arms around him, drawing him into a tight hug. "Marek... he has to get better. He just has to."

[fidgetnano19]

Day 7, Part 2: "No, and that's final"

Translations

Egom: King, leader, etc

Egomija: bonded mage

Eika: Queen

Warnings: Child abuse, mistreatment of a cinnamon role, repugnant opinions

Ceamar, 10 years ago

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Marek stood as quietly as he could, resisting the urge to fiddle with his skirt. When she sent him off to meet the Egom, mama had told him to be still and good, and he was doing his best to obey. He'd even worn his prettiest dress, eager to make a good 'first impression', just like she said.

"This is your mother's doing, I suppose?" The Egom spat, pacing in circles around Marek.

Marek wasn't sure what he meant by that, so he didn't answer.

He stopped behind him, gripping his hair in a tight fist. "Speak up, boy! Haven't you got a mind of your own?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but the Egom yanked harder, so all that came out was a pained yelp.

"Orestes, I think–"

"Stay out of this! No one was speaking to you."

The egomija snapped her mouth shut, taking a step back from them.

"You'll need new clothes, and a hair cut..." He released Marek, the sudden slack nearly sending him forward onto the floor.

Marek regained his balance, and returned to the same stiff pose.

"I like my hair..." He protested quietly, forgetting himself and bunching the pretty lavender skirt in his fingers. "And– and this dress, I had it made special in the village. Mama didn't–"

His face stung before he could even register what had happened, the tears he'd been trying to hold back spilling down his cheeks.

"Don't defend her, brat. Do I look stupid to you?"

He shook his head quickly, keeping his eyes trained on the Egom's hand, which was raised to strike him again.

"My advisors tried to warn me... said the two of you were trouble, and that I should look elsewhere for an Eika." He lowered his hand, but continued to loom over Marek, his very presence making him tremble. "Do you know where you would be without me?"

"N–no, Egom Ore–"

Another slap, this time across the other cheek. Marek bit into his lip, determined not to say anything else that might make the man angry.

"I'm your father now. You will address me as such!"

Marek swallowed hard, trying to nod but too scared to move even his head. "Y... yes, f–fa..."

"If it weren't for me, you would be out on the streets right now." He went on, appeased for the moment. "And do you know what happens to boys like you there?"

He didn't, but he could tell that he was about to find out, and that it was the sort of question he wasn't really expected to answer, so he kept his mouth shut.

"They get work as ereno, offering their bodies to old men for enough money to fill their hungry bellies. If they're lucky, they end up in my prison. The ones who aren't, well..." He trailed off, sneering down at Marek. "They wash up on the shore, eventually. Quit your sniveling, you little shit! Show some damned gratitude." He circled Marek again, gesturing for one of his men to come closer.

"Yes, Egom?"

"Fetch me a pair of scissors, quickly!"

The man dashed off, without so much as a glance toward Marek.

"First, we'll get rid of this filthy mop."

"Can't you leave it be? Lots of boys have long hair." The egomija rushed to his aid again, placing herself between Marek and the Egom. "If– if he just keeps it tied up, then if should be fine, right?"

"No!"

"But he's just a child–"

"I said 'no', and that's final." Egom Orestes raised his voice, as if he weren't terrifying enough before, shoving the woman out of his way. "Make no mistake, Marek, we'll have you looking like a proper boy by day's end, so you'd better get used to the idea. It's time to grow up and stop hiding behind others."

The servant returned promptly, handing the scissors to Orestes with a small bow.

"Stand still, Marek. I wouldn't want my hand to slip." Somehow, Marek didn't believe he'd be too upset if it did.

As the first clump of his hair fell to the floor, Marek raised his eyes, finding the egomija across the room, but she refused to look in his direction.

He sobbed openly, watching the hair his mama and Zain loved so much falling at his feet. He tried to tell himself it was just hair, that it would grow back, but he doubted the Egom would ever allow it to.

...

Marek untangled himself from his wet sheets, grunting from the effort. It was dark, much too dark, and the room was still so unfamiliar. Instinctively, he reached for his hair, used to twirling it around his finger when he was frightened, but there was nothing left to twirl. Only fat tufts that stuck out awkwardly around his head, too short to offer him any comfort.

He climbed out of the bed, stumbling his way across the cold, stone floor until he found the dresser. Instead of the colourful silk nightgowns he'd had at home, there were scratchy woolen pyjamas waiting inside. He ignored them, slamming the drawer shut and kicking off his drenched trousers. It was one problem solved, but he couldn't sleep in his bed. Not comfortably, at least.

'I'm right across the hall, if you need me.'

Kuniharu, the younger one of his new brothers, had said it earlier, before they went to bed. He eyed the door, wondering if it would be alright to sleep with him tonight.

Tip-toeing, because he was accustomed to the creaky wooden floors in Zain's cottage, he made his way out of the room and across the hallway, knocking softly on the older boy's door.

It took several tries before Kuniharu answered. He blinked down at him in surprise for a moment, then yawned, waving Marek inside the room.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Marek shook his head, but he was too stubborn to tell him the truth, that he'd had a bad dream and soaked the bed, something he hadn't done in years.

"You'll get sick if you sleep with your butt hanging out", Kuniharu teased him, leaving Marek to dig through his own dresser. "Here, you can wear these."

He tossed one of his tunics on the bed, along with an pair of thin cotton shorts, like the ones Zain wore beneath his trousers. Marek tugged his own tunic off, discarding it on the floor next to the bed, and pulled on the fresh clothing, the scent unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. The tunic hung to his knees, almost like his old nightgowns.

"Thank you", Marek whispered, climbing into the bed next to Kuniharu.

"You don't have to thank me. We're brothers now, right?" He reached over, wrapping one of his arms around Marek and squeezing him in a close hug. "That means I'll always take care of you."

Marek snuggled against him, thankful for the first scrap of kindness he'd been shown since arriving at his new home. He missed Zain, the little cottage, all of the pretty things he wasn't allowed to have anymore, but Kuniharu was warm, and his bed was soft and dry, and for tonight, that was all he needed to drift back to sleep.

[fidgetnano19]

Day 6, Part 3: Dragged Away

Translations

Mergi: Knight type guy

Ogam: Prince

Onai: Princess

Eika: Queen

Kolekja: Little monster

Ceamar, 4 years ago

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Brexton leaned against the door, flipping through his worn journal before finding a blank page to scribble on. Inside the room behind him, he could hear giggling, and he kind of wished he could be included, except he knew he was doing an important job by standing watch over the corridor.

Besides, there'll be time to catch up later...

The sound of footsteps distracted him just as his pencil touched the paper. He glanced up, a man he'd never seen before headed directly toward him.

He was tall, almost as tall as Brexton, with a short brown ponytail. He slowed as he approached, eyeing Brexton warily. "What's going on here?" He smiled, but it was clear that he was being cautious.

A mergi? If so, then he worked for Egom Orestes.

Brexton forced himself to return the smile, choosing his answer carefully. "Mar– The Ogam's cousins are visiting. You weren't told?"

"No, I wasn't... Is there any reason why the door should be guarded just for that?"

"Never said I was guarding it", Brexton hummed non-commitally, pretending he was busy with the notebook. "Just stepped out for a breather, is all."

"Well, then you won't mind if I–"

Brexton shifted, blocking the door with his body. "Actually, I do. My, uh... My bond is in there. My brother's bond, too. So you see, I'd feel better not letting some stranger just barge in."

It was only partly lying. Einnet really was Torin's bond, and Finny would have been his, had everything gone as planned. The part about not letting a stranger around them was completely true, even if it wasn't his real reason for refusing.

"And I would feel better if I made sure, since you're also a stranger, and it very much looks like you're guarding this door."

He wrapped his hand around the knob, but Brexton was too fast for him, reaching down and clamping his hand over the man's knuckles.

He winced, yanking his hand back in surprise, and shaking it to ease the chill in his flesh. "Okay, so you're definitely an egomija."

He'd be tempted to grin at the man's mistake, if he weren't so commited to keeping him away from the room.

"That was just a sample, mergi. Touch this door again, and I'll–"

"Brexton?" Haru's greeting interrupted him, and both men turned their attention to the Ogam, who had managed to sneak up on them while they were arguing. "I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"Noe couldn't make it." Brexton explained, shrugging as he tucked his journal away, making a mental note to return to it later. "I don't mind it, though. Good to see you again, Haru."

"You, too. It's been... Kea, it's been quite a while, hasn't it. You're almost as tall as Noe, now." He chuckled, reaching past the mergi to shake hands. "It's probably for the best that Noe isn't here. Wouldn't want our newest mergi reduced to a pile of ash, now would we?" He laughed, and Brexton joined in, revelling in the mergi's obvious discomfort.

"Can't have that. Besides, it's been a while since I've seen Marek, too."

"Ah, then give me a minute to chat with Zain, here, and I'll take over the door, give you a chance to visit properly." Before Brexton could answer either way, Haru threw his arm around the mergi's shoulders, dragging him away. "Let me explain a few things to you..."

Brexton let them go, then retrieved his journal, shaking his head. Knowing Haru, the man he'd called Zain was about to get quite the earful about interrupting the Ogam during one of their visits.

...

The raucous laughter stopped as Brexton opened the door, all eyes on him.

Marek was the first to break the tense silence. "Brex!" He hurried over, lifting his skirt so he wouldn't trip on the hem. "We were just–"

Brexton watched his cheeks colour adorably as he looked down at himself, fidgeting with the gown.

"Is that one of Einnet's?"

"Um, y– yeah. She said she brought it just to..." He worried his bottom lip, flashing his wide lilac eyes upward only to hide them again

As shy as ever...

"Spin around, let's see you."

Marek covered his face, twirling slowly so Brexton could see the back of the gown. Aside from hanging a bit loosely over his shoulders, the gown fit him well, and the dark colour complimented the olive tones in his skin perfectly. If he didn't know any better, he'd be completely fooled into thinking there was a pretty girl standing in front of him.

"It really suits you. You look beautiful, Mare, as always."

He kept his hands over his eyes, and Brexton fought the urge to reach out and tug them away, reminding himself that Marek didn't like to be touched, now.

"We– we were playing dress up, and... Oh, come and have a look at Finn! My kolekja is so cute!" Turning the topic to Finn, he seemed to forget all of his shyness, ushering Brexton further into the room.

When he reached the centre, Einnet placed her hands on his shoulder, standing on her tiptoes to whisper, "Is this alright?"

"Haru took over door duty for me. It's perfectly safe." He hesitated, glancing around at the scattered assortment of dresses, and the remnants of what appeared to be a tea party, then added, "As long as no one minds having a guy in here, that is."

The door to the en suit opened, Finny rushing out in another of Einnet's gown – this one obvious because it was far too frilly and long to be her own.

"I told you!" Marek beamed proudly at the youngest princess, the cousin he'd always been the most fond of. "Doesn't she look like an Eika?"

Brexton nodded, bowing exaggeratedly to the Onai. "Eika Finny, huh? That has a nice ring to it." This caused a fresh round of giggles to erupt, mostly from Finny herself.

He sat on the bed, letting Marek serve him a cup of tea, and easing into the cheerful conversation. It was easy to pretend, just for the afternoon, that they were still a closeknit group of children – that all of the things they'd been through, collectively and individually, over the years were nothing more than a series of bad dreams. The only real difference was that Finny was older, more involved in what was happening around her. And, of course, that Torin wasn't there.

On the far end of the room, Einnet bustled around Finny, applying far too much make-up to her sister's plump cheeks, and he wondered why it was that they got along so well like this when they barely spoke to each other at home.

Marek settled in beside him, sipping his own tea. "They're having fun", he commented, following Brexton's eyes.

"They don't get to relax much." Brexton turned his head, giving Marek his full attention. "How are things with you?"

"Oh, you know..." He waved away the question, blowing the steam off his cup. "Nothing really changes around here. Haru and I spend most of our time in here, hiding from father, and Antoku is... Antoku. Off doing his own thing, which is really just code for avoiding me."

"What about the new mergi?"

Marek's gaze sharpened, before he swivelled his face away. "What about him?"

"He and Haru seemed pretty friendly outside. He was awfully concerned about you, too. I thought maybe you guys were all getting along."

"They were... friendly?" Marek blanched, bunching his skirt in the fingers of his free hand. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Can a man like another man?"

It wasn't exactly the sort of thing he'd been expecting, but he cleared his throat, trying to come up with a decent answer.

"Are you asking my permission?"

Marek scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Obviously not. The new mergi, he– a few months ago, he told me he proposed to a boy once." He bent away from Brexton, gently settling his tea cup on the bedside table. "He and Haru have been spending time together lately, going on hunts and things like that. It may be nothing, but... I'm worried about it."

"Afraid he'll steal you brother away?"

"A bit..." Marek squeaked his confirmation, tucking his chin into his palm.

"I wouldn't worry about it." Brexton tried to shrug it off, without giving too much away. "Noone alive could steal Haru from you."

The tension melt away from Marek's slim shoulders, and Brexton felt some of his own discomfort vanish along with it.

"What about you?"

"Haru's not my type." He smirked, watching Marek flounder for a response. It was so much fun to get him flustered.

"I meant are you interested in anyone, smartass."

"Not as such..." Brexton's smile faded as he found Einnet across the room, meeting her eyes before quickly looking away. "I'm still not over my first love", he confessed quietly.

[fidgetnano19]

Day 6, Part 1:

Ceamar, 4 years ago

[[MORE]]

Marek suppressed a sigh, his eyes flickering toward the door to his bedroom.

"Aren't you going to get that?"

He shrugged, returning his attention to the book in his lap. As much as he wished he didn't, he recognised that knock, and he had no interest in seeing that man again – possibly ever, if he could avoid it.

"He'll give up in a minute", he murmured, right before the interruption finally ceased.

Haru stared at Marek, his brows raised in surprise. His gaze made Marek's flesh crawl, almost as bad as if he were actually being touched.

"What?" He slammed the novel shut, irritated that the two of them had made him lose his place – just when it was getting interesting, at that.

"Nothing", Haru shook his head, still not looking away. "You're very conscious of him, all the sudden."

Marek rolled his eyes. "I'm not conscious, I'm just... observant. Especially to things that bother me." He busied himself with returning his book to its hiding place, praying his brother wouldn't notice the heat that had crept into his cheeks, or that if he did, he would know that it was only annoyance that caused it. "He's a nuisance."

"As long as that's all it is." Haru leaned back, resting on his elbows on the bed. "Want me to handle it?"

Marek would have liked nothing more than to let Haru take care of the problem, to hide in his room and wash his hands of the entire thing.

You should be ashamed of yourself, letting Haru coddle you! Spoilt little shit!

Marek shook his head, desperately trying to drown out the sound of his father's voice. He took a deep breath to calm himself, before looking up again.

"He'll give up soon." Marek shooed Haru off of the bed, then climbed under the covers. "I'm gonna take a nap. If father asks, just... tell him I have a headache or something."

"Alright. I have some things to take care of anyway." He opened the door, but froze on the threshold. "He left you flowers."

"What?!" Marek shot up, craning his neck to see around Haru's back.

He didn't need to, because Haru lifted the small bouquet of red roses, carrying them into the room.

"There's a note, too. Want me to read it?" Without waiting for an answer, he unfolded the paper. "Let's see here, 'Sorry for the other night.' Not exactly a poet, is he?"

Marek scoffed at the note, flopping back onto his pillow.

"What should I do with these?" Haru held them out toward Marek, but there was no way he was going to take them.

'Probably some mergi out taking a piss in the rosebushes.'

How could anyone stand to touch the filthy things after hearing that? Not to mention, they'd already been touched by at least two sets of hands. Just thinking about it made him feel like he was about to break out into a fresh bout of hives.

Fighting back a shudder of disgust, he rolled so his back was to Haru, trying to mask his fears with indifference. "Throw them away. I don't want them."

Haru left him alone, taking the flowers with him. Thankful to be by himself for awhile, Marek rolled until he could reach under the bed and retrieved his book, flipping through the pages until he finally found his spot again.

[fidgetnano19]

Day 4, Part 3: Dare You

Translations

Kiga: Someone older AND higher in station. Marek is using it incorrectly when referring to Zain

Koja: Someone younger and higher in station

Really, these two just use them as nicknames for each other.

E kali...: Marek is starting to say he's scared, in his native language, but he calms down enough to say it the normal way. There is something interesting about the way he says it, but I'm keeping that a secret for later. ;)

Minor warning for creepy older boys that Zain should have just punched. Like, really, really should have.

I had an entirely different plan for this prompt, but it wouldn't cooperate. I got distracted flipping through notes and found some stuff past fidget had jotted down about kid!Marek. This just wrote itself, so here we are.

Griaria, 10 years ago

"Zain!"

At the sound of his name, the young boy spun around, peering curiously at the breathless girl in front of him. He vaguely recognised her, but not enough to put a name with the face.

"You– you are Zain, aren't..." She bent over, clutching her knees as she panted furiously. "Aren't you?"

When he nodded, her face lit up. "Come with me!" She stood and grabbed his hand, yanking him across the cobblestone street.

"Where are we going?" he questioned, tugging his hand free, because there was only one person he wanted to hold hands with, and it wasn't this girl.

"It's Marek, I... I think he might be in trouble", she explained, not slowing to even look back while she spoke to him. "Some older boys asked him to play, but they took him down to the old alter, and–"

He didn't give her a chance to finish. Didn't even thank her for coming to find him, though he probably should have. Instead, he broke into a sprint, making a beeline across the village toward the forest.

Please, be okay!

He wasn't yet in sight of the abandoned alter when he heard Marek calling out for him.

"Shut up!" The group of boys came into view – three of them, all Zain's classmates, though he wasn't exactly friends with any of them. "I told you, didn't I? We just want to play a little game."

"Do you think she's really a boy?"

"Nah, no way that's a boy. She's just lying to get attention!"

"Only one way to find out..."

"Ha! Dare you to check!"

Zain ran as fast as his feet would carry him, gaining momentum to topple the first boy, knocking him off Marek's stomach, where he'd been sitting to keep the little Ogam pinned.

He stood between Marek and the others now, a barrier to protect him from harm. He could hear Marek crying behind him, but there was nothing he could do about it until he finished what he'd started.

"Leave Marek alone! If you ever touch him again, I'll– I'll..."

"You'll what?" Despite the cockiness of his tone, the other boy backed away, along with his friends.

Zain was bigger than them. Bigger and stockier than most Griarian boys his age, thanks to his father's foreign blood. Sometimes, it got him picked on, but very rarely did anyone try to fight him.

He squared his shoulders, gathering himself up to his full height. "Marek is mine, so just stay away from him!"

The ringleader frowned, staring daggers at Zain, but he wouldn't budge no matter what. One of his friends smacked him in the shoulder, shaking his head.

"Let's just go. It's not worth it."

Zain held his intimidating stance, refusing to let his guard down until the boys were out of sight. A pair of small arms wrapped around his waist from behind, Marek's face burying into the back of his shirt, leaving a wet spot from his tears.

"E kali..." He hiccoughed, squeezing tighter. "I was really s-scared!"

Zain reached down, unclasping Marek's arms so he could turn and hug him properly. "It's alright. You don't think I'd let anything happen to you, do you Koja?"

Marek shook his head, but the tears showed no signs of stopping.

"Hey, look at me! If you're gonna be my wife someday, then it's my job to protect you." Zain's cheeks coloured with embarrasment as his brain caught up to his mouth. "I mean–"

"Did you just...?"

"Only if you want to! If not, then forget– forget I said anything, alright?"

Marek sniffled, nodding against Zain's chest. "Idiot Kiga! Of course I want to!"

With the matter settled, Zain pried himself free and grabbed Marek's hand. "Let's go home, now. I bet Mama's got a snack waiting for us already." He led Marek through the forest, back to Deerlight and the small house he shared with his mother. "You're going to sleep over again tonight, aren't you?"

Marek's soft but definite, "Mhmm", was followed shortly by, "You're hand's so much bigger than mine, Kiga."

"I said it before, didn't I? Marek's hands are perfect for mine, because they're so small. They fit right in."

"Right!" Marek grinned up at him, the tear stains on his cheeks beginning to fade. "Kiga... can we, um... When we get married, can we do it at the altar?"

Zain furrowed his brow, confused. "Why there?"

"Well, because then instead of a bad memory, I'll have a really great memory there."

Zain shook his head, amazed – as always – with how adorable Marek was. "Then let's do it now." Making a decision, he steered them in the opposite direction, back to the old altar.

"But– but, we don't have rings. Mama told me once, that pretty ring she always wears was from her wedding." Marek stalled, tugging urgently at Zain's arms. "Wait, I know." Dropping Zain's hand, he raced off into the trees.

"Wait up! What are you doing?"

When Zain caught up, Marek was already on his knees in the grass, plucking flowers off of the ground.

"We can make some, with these." He held a handful of blossoms, picked way at the bottom so the stems were still long, then separated them in half, handing some to Zain. "I'll make you a ring, and you can make mine."

Zain sat down beside him, watching Marek work and doing his best to copy the motions. His ring didn't come out nearly as good.

"Finished~" Marek sang, scrambling to his feet.

"Koja, your dress!"

The skirt was ruined, covered in green stains from the grass.

"I dont mind it," Marek surpised him by shrugging it off, even though Zain knew the gown had been one of his favourites. "I'll ask Mama to make me another one."

With their homemade rings in hand, the two boys headed back to the altar. Of the two of them, Marek was the only one who'd actually been to a wedding, so Zain let him take the lead, repeating things when Marek said the husband was supposed to.

"I now announce us man and wife!" Marek's cheeks flushed, his eyes meeting Zain's for the first time since the wedding had begun.

He somehow looked even prettier than ever. Zain froze, so bewitched by the sight that he barely remembered to breath.

"You're supposed to kiss me now", Marek whispered, pulling Zain out of his daze.

"Like... like a real kiss?"

"I think on the cheek is fine, if you'd rather–"

Zain launched forward, pressing his lips to Marek's. They were warm, and much softer than he'd imagined. He felt like his heart was going to explode, but it was fine, because Marek was really his wife now, and nothing else mattered more than that.

"Kiga!" Marek whined, pulling away. "No fair. That was my first kiss, and I wasn't ready, yet. I want a do-over!" He pointed to his pouting lips, and Zain was all too happy to give in.

[fidgetnano19]

Day 4, Part 2: Human Shield

Translations

Mergi: fighty guy for hire

Koja: little but in charge

Fair warning, someone throws up by the end of the chapter

Ceamar, 4 years ago

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bite your head off earlier. It's just that, if something like that were to get back to father... I mean, if he thought I had spent the night in Haru's room, he'd–" Marek shook his head, realising he didn't know exactly what Orestes would do, other than that it wouldn't be pleasant. "It would be upsetting to him. I cause father enough trouble as it is."

"You? Cause trouble?" Zain teased, chuckling at his own joke. "I can't begin to imagine it."

"He says I need to be more masculine. More like... Like my brothers, I suppose. It isn't that I mean to worry him, I'm just", Kea help him, he just couldn't put it into words, how terrible it felt to know that he was a constant source of disappointment, that he would never measure up to Antoku and Kuniharu in the eyes of their father.

"You're just you", Zain supplied, glancing over his shoulder to smile warmly in Marek's direction. "I know you don't care, but I think you're perfect the way you are."

He waited for Zain to turn around again before batting at the tears gathering in his eyes, telling himself it was silly to get worked up over something so minor as this near-stranger's placating comment.

"You're right, I don't care." How he managed to say it without his voice cracking was beyond him. "There's only one person's opinion that matters to me, and it isn't yours, or my father's."

"He means that much to you?"

"Of course he does!" Marek flushed, he hadn't meant to put it so bluntly. "When I was little, I fell ill. Haru spent the entire time waiting outside my bedroom, reading and singing to me through the door. As soon as I was allowed to have visitors, he was the first to come see me, like he couldn't wait to be near me again."

He couldn't remember the first part, of course. He had no memories from the days he spent in quarantine, or anything before it. But he'd heard the story plenty of times, and Haru really had been the first one by his side, before his own mother, even.

I showed him such an ugly side of me that day...

"Is that why you wear his shirt to bed?"

Marek faltered, peering down at himself. "Wh–what makes you think it's his shirt?"

"Well, it certainly isn't yours, Koja. It goes all the way to your knees."

"It's not, I don't really sleep in it. I have my own..." He couldn't very well tell Zain what he did sleep in, but for some reason he didn't want him thinking he snuggled up in his brother's shirt every night, either. "I put this on because–"

"Because your father would approve of this more than what you actually wear?"

Damn him, why did he have to be so insufferably observant all the time. He was supposed to be just some fool Marek suffered out of necessity.

"What about you?" Marek decided his best bet was to change the subject, before he betrayed any more about himself than he already had. "Do you have any brothers?"

"I'm an only child. I was very close to one of the other village boys when I was young, but..." Zain sighed heavily, making Marek wonder if he'd touched upon a sore matter. "That was different."

"You mean your Marek? The one you mistook me for, when you first came here."

"Yes, but he moved away when I was ten. The day I became an adult, I left home to find him, and well, one thing led to another and I ended up here." Zain held his hand out, gesturing at the palace surrounding him.

"I'm", Marek ducked his head, ashamed to not be what was expected of him, once again. "I'm sorry that I'm not who you thought I was."

I'm not who anybody wants me to be.

"No need to apologise. Getting to know you has turned out to be quite the adventure, too." Zain stopped at a fork in the path, checking first down one hall, then the other. "You don't happen to know which way is out, do you?"

"I..." He hadn't been paying attention to where they were going for a while now, and truthfully he spent so much of his time hiding out in his room that he wasn't very good at navigating the palace under the best of circumstances. "Right?"

Zain was somehow fooled into believing he knew what he was talking about. Maybe he wasn't observant, maybe he was just a lucky guesser.

"Where was I?"

"Your Marek", he supplied, finding himself curiously thankful for the conversation.

It kept his mind off the alarms, at least.

"That's right. I proposed to him, you know."

Marek froze, too stunned to take another step. "You proposed to a boy?"

"Of course. Does that surprise you?" Zain stopped, too, giving Marek time to catch up.

"I– I just didn't know that you were– that you liked boys?" His cheeks burned as he forced the words out, trying so hard not to make it sound like some sort of accusation.

You seem so... normal.

"I don't", Zain shrugged, oblivious to the fact that his answer made no sense. "At least, I don't think I do? I guess I've never given it much thought... Either way, it was him that I loved, it didn't matter if he was a boy or a girl. Every second I could spend beside him, every smile he showed to me, they were all precious."

"In that case, I hope you find him some day."

"Make no mistake, I haven't given up on him, even–"

A figure crossed their path, at the end of the corridor, where it intersected with another. Zain held his hand out, halting Marek in his tracks.

"Did you see that?"

Marek nodded solemly, twisting his hands together as he willed his eyes to focus on the darkness ahead.

The shadow reappeared, headed straight for them this time.

"Watch out!" Zain grabbed Marek, much to his horror, and pinned him against the wall, shielding him from the stranger's attack.

The heat from the mergi's body was too foreign, too much to bear.

Breathe...

Breathe.

BREATHE!

The world swam before Marek's eyes, and no matter how hard he tried to stop them, tears pooled down his cheeks, dripping onto Haru's tunic.

Shameful!

His own voice, reminding him to stay calm until he could escape, was replaced with that of his father.

Why are you crying? You're a boy, aren't you?

The mergi's weight nearly crushed him, but he was helpless to do anything about it. The moment it let up, he slid to the floor, clutching his head in his trembling hands.

How do you live with yourself?!

"Marek!"

Marek knew that voice. He knew it, and he wanted so badly to call out, but his throat closed up, refusing to let the name pass.

"I warned you not to touch him."

"I, I didn't mean to. I thought you were the intruder, and– You surprised me is all."

"Well, I thought that you were the intruder."

They were standing so close that if Marek could bring himself to, he could reach out and touch either one of them, but they sounded so very distant.

His stomach lurched, bringing up the contents of what little he'd eaten for dinner all over the front of his shirt. Bile clogged his nose and throat, choking him.

"Breathe, Marek! Deep breaths, in and out, you'll be okay." Haru bent down, ghosting his hands over Marek's clenched ones. "I'm right here, everything's fine now."

"You... You left me!" Marek shouted, catching his brother off-guard because he rarely raised his voice above a whisper. "You left me, Haru! It's all you're fault!"

He struggled to stand of shaky legs, refusing to look at either one of them before running off in what he prayed was the direction of his bedroom.

[fidgetnano19]

Day 4, Part 1: "I know you didn't ask for this"

Translations

Koja: Once again, an honorific for someone younger but above you in station.

Ogam: Boy of nobility, in Marek's case, basically a prince.

Kogam: Zain's attempt at cutesy flirting, a play on words to mean 'little prince'

Mergi: Hired swords, knights, etc

Ceamar, 4 years ago

Marek bolted upright, trying to pinpoint what it was that had woken him so suddenly. At first, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Writing it off as simply being shaken by a bad dream – a common occurrence for him – he made himself comfortable on the bed again, tugging the covers up until only half his face was exposed.

He was just drifting back to sleep when the alarms sounded again, louder this time. Startled, he threw the covers off and struggled groggily out of bed.

The alarms were unsettling, yes, but the prospect of leaving the room as he currently was, and being seen by his father – now that was truly terrifying. Hurrying to the dresser, he stripped off his nightgown and tugged one of Haru's old tunics over his head in its place, kicking the lacier garment underneath the bulky piece of furniture.

A quick check of the mirror assured him that he now looked passable for Orestes, so he grabbed his gloves off of his nightstand and raced out of the room in search of his father, or – far more preferably – his older brother.

The corridor was dark and silent, save for the alarms, which were sounding incessantly now, rattling his already fragile nerves.

Yanking the gloves on until they covered the better part of his arms, nearly meeting with the bottom of the tunic's rolled-up sleeves, he crept across the hall to his brother's door, wondering how long it had been since he snuck to his room in the middle of the night.

When they were smaller, it was a regular occurrence. In fact, at one point they spent almost every night together. He wasn't sure anymore which one of them had put a stop to it, or even if it had ended before or after the fever. It was hard to tell, sometimes, which things he truly remembered and which were merely blanks filled in by Haru.

He gathered his courage, then raised his fist to knock on the door. No answer.

"Haru, are you in there?"

Hesitantly, he grasped the doorknob, willing himself not to think about all the other hands that had touched it before him, and all the things those hands had touched before they got there.

Breathe.

Even with the protective layer the gloves provided him, his skin itched and his pulse galloped.

"Har–"

The room beyond was empty, the bed vacated so quickly that half the covers were thrown on the floor beside the bed.

Haru left without me?

He could hardly believe his eyes. Haru had never left him behind before, not once in his whole life. His chest tightened, the loose fabric of the tunic suffocating him, strangling his throat until no air could pass to his lungs. Without Haru to reassure him that the alarms were nothing to worry about, or guide him through the palace, he felt completely lost.

What should I do?

"Koja?"

He spun around, finding himself face-to-face – or more accurately face-to-chest – with none other than his least favourite mergi.

Breathe, his mind reminded him, followed by another, more important command: Hide it!

He swallowed hard, imagining that he was shoving all his fear somewhere deep inside with the simple motion. He couldn't display it out in the open, especially not to someone like him.

Tilting his chin up to stare Zain directly in the eye, he demanded of him, "What are you doing here?"

"We're conducting a sweep of the palace. There was an intruder sighted on the grounds." He stopped, frowning down at Marek with concern. "No one came for you, Kogam?"

"Don't call me that!" he insisted, with all the false bluster he could manage. "I'm sure they tried to, but..." He couldn't come up with a single decent excuse for why none of his family or the servants came to fetch him, so he shrugged his shoulders, pretending it didn't matter. "I must have slept through it is all. I'm a very deep sleeper."

Zain smiled indulgently, irritating Marek even further. "I'm sure you are." He reached out to pat Marek on the head, but he ducked the contact in the knick of time. The mergi stumbled backward, looking genuinely apologetic. "Sorry, force of habit. I– I'm not actually sure where you're supposed to go, but the barracks are practically a fortress in their own right. Why don't I take you there until the 'all clear' sounds?"

He wanted to refuse, but honestly he didn't know where to go in the event of an intruder, and enduring Zain long enough to reach safety seemed far more promising than hiding alone in his room or wandering the halls by himself and hoping for the best, so he grumbled, "Fine."

"This is probably just a false alarm. A large animal, or... or a mergi out taking a piss in the rosebushes. Try not to worry about it too much, Koja."

"Are you always so crass?" Marek questioned, wrinkling his nose in distate. "Who would even do such a thing?"

Zain laughed, which made his broad shoulders rise and fall. "Don't tell me you've never done it."

"Of course not."

They walked in silence for a while, weaving their way up and down the long corridors of the palace.

Zain was the first to disturb the peace. "So, that was Ogam Kuniharu's room you were coming out of, wasn't it?"

"Is that any of your business?"

"No, it isn't. I was merely curious."

"Yes, it is his room. I heard the alarms, and went looking for my brother."

Ahead of him, Zain nodded slowly, as though he were deep in thought. "I see. I thought, maybe you were..."

"I don't care what you thought." Marek had to bite the words out, not at all amused by his choice of topics. "And if you're going to interrogate me, there are far more subtle ways to go about it."

"My apologies, Kog– Ogam. I won't say anything further on the matter."

As they neared the front of the palace, Marek started to feel bad for snapping at Zain. After all, he was the only person who had come to check on him, and he was going out of his way to keep an eye on him until his safety was assured. Despite his mixed feelings toward the man, he at least owed him something for his trouble.

"Look–", was all he got out, because Zain chose the exact same moment to speak.

"I know you didn't ask for this." Zain sighed, peeking back at Marek. "I know that I'm just about the last person in all of Ceamar that you want to be stuck with right now. But, I am the person who would do anything to keep you safe. So just bear it, for your own sake."

[fidgetnano19]

Day 1, Part 3: Shaky Hands

Translations:

Mergi: hired warriors, knights, blah blah

Loji, kamo: (mergi) ranks

Kiga: an honorific, more informal than addressing someone by their proper rank/title

Ogam: Boy of nobility, a prince

Egomija: a bonded mage

Ceamar, 4 years ago

"Zain, Gilliam, and Lovet", the names were read off of a scroll, as plenty of others had been throughout the morning, and the three raced to show that they were present. 

They were led into a courtyard, where they were formally introduced to Loji Fowke, the leader of Ceamar's mergi. Zain shook his hand, but his mind was elsewhere. 

Specifically, it was singularly focused on the beauty behind the man – the one with their face buried in a book, oblivious to everything going on around them.

His heart thudded inside his ill-fitted training armour, and he silently willed them to look up, to show him their eyes.

"Zain, your partner will be Kamo Owun, of the Gloro. For your first challenge, you only need last ten minutes. Good luck." Loji Fowke nodded, dismissing the men to pursue their challenges. "Ogam, please pay attention."

The ethereal being nodded softly, but made no move other than to flip to the next page. With a deep sigh of surrender, he perched on the wall beside them, taking out a pocket watch and signalling for the men to begin.

So he is a boy. It can't be Marek, though. Zain tried to convince himself, mostly so he could duel without distraction. Surely, he would have recognised my name.

Somehow, he lasted the full ten minutes, though he was shocked at how tenaciously his opponent battled.

"Good lad!" He reached out, shaking Zain's hand. "You fought well. Make it through your other tests, and there will be a place for you among the Gloro."

"Th–thank you, Kamo Owun." Zain flushed, partly from exertion, and partly from the unexpected praise. Remembering himself, he bowed deeply, holding the position until Owun reached for his shoulder, nudging him upward.

"Kiga is fine, for one of my men."

"Ki– Owun Kiga! I will not let you down."

By the time they were done chatting, he'd lost track of the boy. The leader, too, had seemingly vanished. Deciding that there'd be another chance, now that he'd passed his first challenge, Zain headed down the path to the barracks.

About halfway there, voices caught his ear, drifting from somewhere off the beaten path.

"Egom Orestes specifically told me to–"

"He said that I had to oversee the mergi training. Which I have. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have plans for this afternoon."

Zain caught up just in time to watch the Ogam march off, leaving Fowke to groan in defeat. He met Zain's eyes, and shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

"That useless child. Unless Ogam Kuniharu says it, he doesn't listen to a thing." He headed back, pausing only briefly to stand beside Zain. "Honestly, I don't know why he even bothered to show up today."

"I could try to talk to him."

"I wouldn't, but it's your funeral, as they say."

Zain pressed on despite the warning, easily catching up to the young Ogam. Without thinking, he reached out, wrapping his hand around the boy's rail thin arm.

He spun around, his eyes full of venom as he tugged himself free, readjusting his long white gloves. "Who are you? How dare you approach me so casually?" It wasn't his harsh words that knocked the wind out of Zain.

Purple... I knew they would be!

"Are you Marek?"

"Of course I am! Now, I demand you answer my questions."

Questions? He struggled to remember what Marek had asked him, too elated to concentrate.

"I'm Zain, from Deerlight. We used to spend all of our time together, when we were young." He searched for some spark, some glimmer of recognition, but there was none. "Surely, you remember me."

"Impossible. You're mistaking me for someone else." Marek scooted back, his gloved hands balling into shaking fists at his sides. "I've never been to Deerlight in my life."

No! No, it had to be him. Sure, he'd grown a lot since the last time they were together, but Zain couldn't be mistaken. No one else in the entire world was that beautiful, that graceful. Besides, his eyes – those twin shimmering amethysts, shaded beneath long elegant lashes – were exactly the same ones that Zain had always adored, the eyes that had haunted his dreams every night since Marek left the village.

"You don't remember?" He took a step forward, but stopped in his tracks when Marek flinched, bracing himself against the approach. "We made a promise, the day you left. You said that–"

"What's going on here?" A deep voice spoke from behind Marek, preceeding its owner's appearance.

The dense greenery behind Marek parted, revealing a tall gentleman, dressed in fine hunting clothes. He stopped beside the Ogam, bending to whisper something close to his ear.

"This man grabbed me!" Marek's hand flew to the spot on his arm, where Zain had caught him. "Then he started talking nonsense about Deerlight. I tried to tell him that I've never been there, but he refuses to listen."

"It's alright, Marek. I'll handle this", Zain could just hear him say, as he spoke softly to Marek.

"I– I was on my way to the barracks, and I..." Zain struggled for an explanation, suddenly feeling like he'd intruded on an intimate scene.

"Ah, you're not too far off. I can show you, if you'd like." He left Marek's side, flashing a warm smile at Zain. "Believe me, you're not the first new mergi to get turned around on these paths."

"Haru! We have plans, remember?" Marek stomped his foot on the ground, glaring angrily at the man's retreating back.

So, this must be Kuniharu. The only person Marek listened to, according to Loji Fowke. It was hard not to be jealous of the man who held such fierce loyalty from Marek.

"I promised, didn't I?" He reassured, without turning back. "I'll meet you at our spot."

'Our spot'...

Marek twirled on his heels, his long hair flowing wildly behind him, and stormed off. Beside Zain, Kuniharu laughed at the display.

"You'll have to excuse my brother. He only pretends to have such a rotten personality." He gestured back in the direction Zain had come from, his easy grin never once faltering. "Come on, I'll take you back."

They walked in silence until the barracks came into view. "I hope Marek's condition didn't trouble you too much."

Zain hesitated, confused. "Condition?"

"You didn't notice? Maybe I shouldn't have said anything..." He sighed, turning to scan the horizon behind him.

For a minute, Zain thought he would leave without explaining any further.

"He can't stand to be touched." Haru went on, leading the way to the barracks' entrance. "When we were children, he came down with a terrible fever. He was quarantined for over a week, with only father's egomija allowed to go near him. When the fever broke, he... he had changed. He had no memories from before he fell ill, and whenever anyone tried to touch him, he would go into fits. It, I don't know. They say the illness did something to his mind."

"No memories? So then growing up in Deerlight, he–"

"Exactly. It never happened, as far as he's concerned. The Marek you knew, whatever he was too you, I suggest you forget him." Kuniharu warned, then started to walk away.

"You aren't just saying that to keep him by your side, are you?" Zain nearly balked at his own words, amazed to find himself speaking so brashly to an Ogam, but he had to know.

Amazingly, Kuniharu laughed. "You're awfully observant, mergi. It's true, I've never once seen Marek through a brother's eyes", he confessed so easily, almost as though he were relieved to speak the words out loud. "I can have selfish motives and still offer sound advice, can't I? You'll only suffer if you pursue him, and so will he."

[fidgetnano19]

Day 1, Part 2: "It'll be fun, trust me."

Translations:

Onai: Noble girl, usually something akin to a princess, but not always. In this case it is, though

Notes:

Marek's faceclaim is IU. I was so shocked when I found this pic because it seriously looks like my character design just up and came to life, so even though I don't usually post OC stuff with real life pics, I'm going for it...

Ceamar, 4 years ago

The sound of knocking, which Marek had been trying his best to ignore, grew louder – more insistent, until he couldn't take it anymore.

"Come in, Haru!" he called, not bothering to glance up from his sketchpad as the door to his bedroom opened and closed.

Haru approached the bed, stopping just shy of the edge. "I don't usually bother to knock. How did you know it was me?"

"Father's knock sounds much more intimidating", he mumbled, placing his pencil between his teeth so he could feel around for the gummi he'd dropped somewhere on the bed near him. His fingers found the object, clasping around it as he added, "And Antoku never visits my room."

"Never?"

He shook his head gently, focusing on removing any hint of his mistake from the paper.

"What are you working on?" Haru asked, trying to sneak a peek at the drawing.

Marek shielded it from his view, not ready to show his progess to even his favourite person. "The Sleeping Onai."

"Again?" Haru scooted onto the bed beside him, careful to sit far enough that no part of their bodies touched. "You really like that story, huh?"

"Maybe. It makes me wonder, 'what would it be like to sleep forever'?" Marek confessed, because Haru was the only one he could voice such morbid curiosity to.

"I'll tell you one thing, I would die of a broken heart if you did that."

Marek shifted so that his long hair fell over his shoulder, hiding his face, and the deep blush he could feel creeping over his cheeks. "Haru, you shouldn't speak that way. What if father–"

"Knew that I treasure my baby brother?" Haru shifted on the bed, leaning backward to reach behind Marek for the pillow. "Is there something so wrong with that?"

Only that I'm the family disappointment...

Haru propped the pillow upright next to Marek's leg, then moved so that his thigh was pressing against the other side. The contact was almost, but not quite, unbearable. "Is this too much?"

"No, it's not so bad." Marek's pulse raced, his heart was nearly in his throat, but he did his best to ignore it. "Just... not any closer than this."

"I could do this in my room, you know. Set up a whole wall of pillows between us, so you could sleep there again. It'll be almost like when we were children."

"Are you insane? He'd catch us."

"I don't care what father thinks."

"Because it wouldn't be you that–" Marek stopped, thinking better of what he'd been about to say. "He already worries too much about me. I'd rather not cause any more trouble."

Or draw any more attention to myself.

"Which reminds me, this isn't entirely a social call."

"What is it, then?" Marek questioned, trying his best to concentrate on his sketch again. Being so close to another person, along with worrying that Haru was peeking, was making it hard to concentrate.

"You don't remember? Today's the day."

It took Marek several seconds longer than it should have to recall what his brother was hinting at.

"Kea! The training is today?"

Beside him, Haru chuckled. "You really did forget." He clucked his tongue, flicking his fingers against the top of the pillow, which whacked against Marek's side. "I figured you might, so I thought I'd better remind you before father came looking for you. Good thing I did, too, or else..."

He didn't need to finish the sentence. Marek was already hastily stashing his sketchbook beneath the top cover of his bed.

Once he was sure it was well hidden, he slid his pencil and gummi back into the top drawer of his dresser, then dug out a fresh pair of clothing.

"Keep an eye on the door!" he insisted, rushing behind his dressing screen to change.

"What about your books?" Haru asked, making Marek wince.

He'd forgot all about the stack of books beside his bed, but there was nothing he could do about them right now. At least they weren't the worst thing he could accidentally leave lying around.

"Just leave them, I'll hide them if I have time." He threw the tunic over his head, then shoved his legs into the trousers, wriggling them up over his hips. "How do I look?" His face fell as he walked back around the screen, just in time to watch Haru sheepisly tucking one of his books behind his back.

"Not half as good as you did in the nightgown."

"Shh!" He found his white silk gloves on the nightstand and yanked them on, pulling them up so they covered well beyond his elbow, then held out his hand impatiently until Haru returned the book.

"I can't believe I'm being forced to 'oversee' the training." Marek grumbled, digging through his drawer again until he found a handkerchief, which he used to wipe down the binding of the book before adding it to the others. "It's such a waste of time."

"Don't be like that." Haru flopped back onto the bed, tucking his arms behind his head. "I know father's making you do this, but it'll be fun, trust me."

"We have vastly different definitions of 'fun', as usual." Despite the bite to his words, Marek smiled ever so slightly, a bright idea coming to him. "But, I'm sure I could tolerate it... with the proper motivation, of course."

"Motivation like, spending the afternoon together? Say, in your secret hiding spot?"

"Hmm..." Marek tapped his chin in mock thought, doing his best to build suspense. "You're certainly on the right track, but I think you're forgetting one thing."

While his brother struggled to find the correct bribe, Marek gathered up the heavy stack of romance novels and shoved them beneath his bed, then made one last sweep of the room, checking for anything else that needed to be put out of sight.

"What else does my precious Marek like..." Haru crooned, pausing to chew his lip in thought. "How about I pick you some strawberries?"

"You drive a hard bargain", Marek relented, dropping onto the bed again. "Just don't forget. You have to promise me, Haru."

"You have my word." Before anything else could be said, Haru stood suddenly, putting a great deal of distance between them as footsteps echoed down the corridor outside.

[fidgetnano19]

Day 6, Part 2: "Yes, I'm aware. You're point?"

Translations

Ogam: Noble boy, prince

This came out really short. I dunno. I've been sick but trying to power through.

Ceamar, 4 years ago

[[MORE]]

"Zain!"

He stopped outside of the barracks, giving the Ogam a chance to catch up, and then to finish panting so he could tell him what it was he'd called him for.

"Do you need something, Ogam Kuniharu?"

"Yes... the flowers... no good. You should try another method." He stood to his full height, placing a hand on Zain's shoulder. "Marek doesn't like them."

Zain studied his face sceptically, sure that he had ulterior motives, again. After all, why should he give him advice, when they were both after the same person. "And I'm supposed to just take your word for it?"

"You don't have to. Look." From behind his back, he produced a small bouquet of red roses, holding them up for Zain's inspection. "He told me to throw them away, same with the last six."

"He's still that angry with me?"

"Not at all. He pretends it's because of that, but... the truth is, he can't bring himself to touch them, I can tell." Kuniharu handed off the flowers with a small shrug. "I know Marek, it isn't disgust that's stopping him from accepting the flowers, it's fear – maybe because you handled them, or... I'm not sure of the 'why', exactly, but that's how it is."

He peered down at the roses, wondering what possible reason the Ogam would have for telling him all of this.

"He likes books. Romance novels, fairy stories, anything dramatic and sappy." Haru went on, oblivious to Zain's confusion. "I could help you pick something out, if you'd like."

"Why would you do that? You and I are rivals."

"Yes, I'm aware. Your point?" Kuniharu shifted so he was leaning against the wall of the barracks, his shoulder pressed uncomfortably close to Zain's. "Alright, the truth then. Marek lives a very isolated life. If it weren't for my father's meddling, he'd spend all of his time hidden away in his room. To be near him... I haven't had a lot of opportunities to make friends, especially not ones I can talk openly to, without playing the pronoun game."

Zain huffed, caught off guard by the sudden admission. "The... pronoun game?"

"You know, 'the person I like', 'they make me really happy', that sort of thing. Always walking on egg shells, being overly concious of yourself."

"No, I know it..." Zain chuckled to himself, feeling a weight lift that he'd never been aware he was carrying. All the times he'd done that exact thing, or else quietly excused himself from a group because the conversation had turned to pretty women... It had come so naturally that it never occured to him to be bothered about it, until Kuniharu pointed it out. "I just– I've done that all my life, but I never had a name for it until now."

"Wouldn't it be nice to not have to do that, for once? Besides, I'm confident I can win, so I don't need to resort to such dirty tricks." He held his hand, smiling earnestly at Zain. "Friends?"

"Friends." Zain shook his hand, deciding that maybe being rivals didn't mean they also had to be enemies.

"Good. Then let's go on a hunt this afternoon. Marek refuses to join me, says it's 'barbaric'", He paused, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. "So I'm stuck bringing a bunch of 'yes-men' servants. Really sucks all the joy out of it."