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artificialqueens · 5 years

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you and i– we’re defying gravity ch. 3 (scyvie) - amelieee

a/n:

wow, i’ve been consistently hitting my deadlines, what a shocker! here’s another chapter for this godforsaken fic. thank you to those who’s been supporting me (i’m looking at you, scyvie discord) and my friend althea for betaing this!

also, this is very branjie centric, but i promise this’ll be the only chapter that focuses on the more than yvie and scarlet. if you know wicked, you know what will happen to them anyways.

follow me @and-oddly-enough and reblogs + likes are appreciated!

word count: 10.5k

Last chapter: Yvie and Scarlet get used to each other being roommates, Yvie finds out Vanjie is studying at the same place, and something bad is happening at Oz.

This chapter: Scarlet and Yvie team up to hook both Brooke and Vanjie together, Scarlet hosts a dance party, and Yvie realizes something really important.

In the middle of class—for the hundredth time, Scarlet nudges Yvie’s elbow subtly. Yvie was so close to let out a growl of annoyance at Scarlet but manages to hold it back when she realizes that she still was in the middle of Professor Hides’ boring literature class. Though Professor Hides was old and bordering on deaf and blind, Yvie knows that when she lets out a growl, there’d be lots of reactions, and their professor might finally notice them.

Getting back to Scarlet, Yvie mouths a ‘no’ at Scarlet, hoping she wouldn’t bother her anymore. Apparently, she thought this was the best time to pass notes in class. Not to Yvie but to Ra’jah who was literally sitting at the opposite end of the room. The reason she kept bothering Yvie was that Yvie can subtly pass the note to Ra’jah through her telekinesis so their professor wouldn’t notice. Even if she was blind, they were close enough to the front; which makes passing notes pretty risky.

“Come on, just do it, pretty please?” Scarlet whispers softly, giving a little pout. “Y’know I won’t stop bugging you anyways,” Scarlet adds and Yvie wants to sigh. Instead, she just rolls her eyes and nods. With a wave of her finger, the note flew across the room silently to Ra’jah. Even if most of their classmates saw it, Yvie knows that they’d be too faithful to Scarlet to ever snitch on her. After Yvie passes it, she watches Ra’jah patiently, waiting for her to finish her reply so Yvie can send back the note to Scarlet.

Yvie doesn’t even know what’s so important that will prompt the couple to pass notes in class. To Yvie, it was immensely childish, and she knew Scarlet and Ra’jah were much better than that. Then again, Yvie caught a glimpse of that note a while ago. It was quick since she knew Scarlet was watching, but she definitely saw the words ‘Vanjie’ and ‘Brooke’ written on the paper. At the moment, they were sharing a class with them as well, but the two of them were seated next to each other at the corner of the classroom. Sometimes, Yvie would see Scarlet be distracted by how flirty the other two are being. Yvie doesn’t blame her, though. She’d occasionally look back as well since they’ve been quite bothersome yet adorable at the same time.

It’s actually been a month since they first started interacting. Yvie noticed how close they’ve been judging by how lonely Yvie was for the past month. Every other day, Brooke and Vanjie would ditch Yvie and Scarlet to have their own thing, and even if they were undeniably cute, Yvie felt glum that she was all alone at her own table. Yvie was still obviously happy for Brooke, of course; it would be petty to hog Brooke for herself only. Even so, it did remind Yvie how friendless she was. The only friends she deemed as ‘friends’ besides her sister and Vanjie were Ra’jah, Shuga, and Scarlet. Over the month, they grew more comfortable with her, and Yvie in return found them interesting and enjoyable as well. Scarlet was the only exception to that since she still showcases her distaste in Yvie occasionally. Well, at least the insults weren’t a daily thing. To Yvie, that was already a sign of progress on their relationship.

Because despite the jabs and sarcastic remarks, Yvie did enjoy Scarlet’s company a bit more nowadays. Her delusions were entertaining and even if they don’t want to admit it, their humor was so similar. What she thought was a horrible situation slowly became bearable.

“Hey, rat bastard, pass the note back,” Scarlet whispers harshly, her eyes pointing at Ra’jah. Yvie gives her a scowl. She did mention it was bearable but their relationship wasn’t the best, obviously.

“Why do you have to drag rats into this?” Yvie whispers back as she waves her finger in the air without even looking at Ra’jah. That one month of sorcery lessons from Madame Visage does have good use, at least. The note lands gracefully on Scarlet’s table as Scarlet merely rolls her eyes at Yvie. Scarlet begins unfolding the note and once she reads Ra’jah’s reply, she immediately perks up, her lips widening into a bright smile. This definitely made Yvie curious but she wholeheartedly did not want to get caught by Professor Hides.

Thankfully, Scarlet didn’t send back another note in the last thirty minutes they had class. But once class ended, surprisingly, Scarlet grabbed Yvie directly and dragged her, Ra’jah, Shuga, and Vanjie out of the classroom before Yvie even registered what was going on. Yvie didn’t even know why she was so thrown off by Scarlet grabbing her hand— maybe it was the suddenness of it all. Either way, Yvie only processed what was happening halfway through their trip to somewhere and began protesting against whatever Scarlet had in mind.

“The fuck is going on, Scarlet?” Yvie asks as she shakes Scarlet’s hand off. Yvie realizes her cheeks are slightly red. Maybe it was from exhaustion?

“Hey, we were going to head to the same place anyways so stop complaining,”

“No, as in, what must be so important that you decided to literally drag Ra’jah, Vanjie, and I out of class in such a rush?”

“Yea, maybe ask next time?” Vanjie adds, clearly infuriated she didn’t get to walk Brooke to her class.

“I literally dragged you out to talk to you about my plan of hooking you and Brooke together but go off, I guess.” Scarlet says with a smirk as she begins climbing the stairs. After that, Vanjie immediately sputters, startled by what Scarlet said. Ra’jah laughs a bit, already knowing of the plan, but Yvie and Shuga were simply curious at to what shit Scarlet has came up with.

“I–I can–uh, I can do that fine by myself, you hoe,” Vanjie replies but her voice was shaky and uncertain. Yvie snorts at how pathetic she was.

“Oh honey, don’t lie to us, you stupid lesbian,” Shuga says and it makes everyone laugh loudly except for Vanjie. Vanjie musters up a fake chuckle but she still sounded infuriated. “Aw, Vanjie, sweetie, I’m joking,” Shuga adds and Vanjie pouts at her.

“You guys don’t know how hard it is!” Vanjie exclaims and everyone stares at her in disbelief.

“You’ve known Brooke for like, fifteen years, but go off I guess,” Yvie says and Vanjie flushes. Shuga mutters ‘stupid lesbian’ again and it brings out a soft laugh from everyone.

“Hey! This is bullying, I’m leaving,” Vanjie says, stopping her steps mid-step. Scarlet was quickly alarmed and grasped Vanjie’s hand before she could bail. Scarlet really seemed persistent and she undoubtedly trusted her plan wholeheartedly.

“No! Don’t— don’t leave, I promise this will 100% work,” Scarlet says and Vanjie quirks up an eyebrow.

“How d’ya know? Firstly, you almost failed at maths, and secondly you’re delusional as fuck.”

“And who has a girlfriend between the two of us?”

Vanjie stayed silent for a second until she sighed and said, “I fucking hate you,”. Ra’jah and Shuga laugh in amusement as they proceed to walk another level up. Yvie silently trails behind, oddly feeling slightly off even if she didn’t understand why. She really must be catching some sort of fever, or maybe she was immensely overworked. Either way, she needed to give herself some time to rest.

Eventually, they all make it to Scarlet’s suite. Like always, it smelled like fresh roses and was always neat and tidy just because Scarlet loved it that way. Yvie was suspicious of her eagerness to be tidy but after a couple of days, Yvie praised it a lot. After all, Yvie was not the… cleanest of people. Her room back in Munchkinland was a dumpster fire wherein everything she had was just tossed around the room.

“God, I wish I lived here,” Shuga stated, “It’s like heaven in this room. Meanwhile, Tammie and I have been fuckin’ around in our small-ass room. Nothing’s tidy,” Shuga adds as she sits down on Scarlet’s bed primly. Scarlet and Ra’jah join her while Vanjie tackles Yvie’s bed, faceplanting herself unto the bedsheets. Yvie takes off her heels as well and joins Vanjie, lying back down into her bed in relief.

“And our room is much worse than that, right Vanj?” Ra’jah says and Vanjie only replies by raising a thumbs up in the air which prompts a few people to laugh.

“Why, thank you, I work pretty hard on this since my asshole of a roommate doesn’t understand the concept of organizing,” Scarlet says shoots Yvie a judgmental glare. Yvie raises the bird in reply, too exhausted to reply some kind of witty insult back. “Anyways, back to the main topic at hand. I think I have a foolproof plan to get Vanjie and Brooke together. Or actually, this is more of a plan for their first date since I know Vanjie isn’t good with planning dates,”

“Hey, that was with Aquaria and that was one time–”

Scarlet abruptly continues her spiel, “I will reserve the Ozdust Ballroom for this–I have all the money in the world to do so–and we’re gonna hold a dance party for Vanjie and Brooke.” Scarlet explains excitedly but no one seemed to reciprocate the same anticipation as her. They all seemed a bit perplexed– even Vanjie sat up from her position to look at Scarlet with concern.

“Scarlet, I love you, but you are a fucking dumbass,” Vanjie says, disgruntled.

Scarlet, with an offended expression, replies back, “Thanks, really appreciate you saying that for the hundredth time,” She leans back against the headboard with crossed arms.

“I dunno about you but last time I checked, Brooke’s legs were still tangled,” Vanjie retorts sarcastically, “I don’t think she’ll have a great time in a dance party when she can’t actually, y’know, dance,” Vanjie adds and Yvie actually ponders about it for a moment.

Out of all the people in the room, there was no one who knew Brooke more than Yvie. Vanjie comes to a close second but Yvie was literally there since Brooke was born. With that, Vanjie was undeniably wrong. Brooke, despite disabled, was determined to teach herself any kind of dance she can learn. With enough perseverance and hard work, she actually mastered different kinds of techniques and skills thanks to the help one of their teachers in highschool, Miss Sahara Davenport. But then there was some point that Brooke stopped seeing her. If Yvie recalls correctly, there were rumors that Miss Davenport died of some illness; hence why Brooke had no more classes for dance. However, Brooke came through it all and continued her legacy by independently teaching herself how to dance. After a few books, self-teaching, and help from their neighbour named Alyssa who would teach Brooke occasionally, Brooke became the best dancer Yvie’s ever witnessed.

Vanjie most likely didn’t know of this all because Brooke was a secluded and reluctant person. Like Yvie, she had her own insecurities, but Brooke had a different approach of handling it. While Yvie liked address her issues more out loud, Brooke was more quiet, keeping all her problems to herself. Yvie only managed to know about Brooke’s dancing when Brooke accidentally fell out of her wheelchair in her room and couldn’t get back up. Yvie had to help her get back on while Brooke panickedly explained the situation truthfully. Brooke could never lie under stress.

“Brooke can dance,” Yvie mentions and everyone turns to her, eyeing her weirdly. “What? Brooke knows how to dance. Not on her feet but on her wheelchair, of course.” Yvie adds, still keeping a serious tone. She needed to make sure the others didn’t think whatever she said was some sort of joke.

“Bitch, how?” Vanjie asks, still in a state of uncertainty.

“She got private lessons from Miss Davenport, remember her?”

“Miss Davenport cannot dance,” Vanjie replies and it took a second for Yvie to understand who she was referring to.

“That’s Miss A’keria, you fuck. And she can dance… only if it involved her ass shaking, that is,” Yvie says, “But I’m referring to Miss Sahara. She taught phys-ed and dance. She tutored Brooke some time ago,” Yvie adds and the group all seemed intrigued by this newfound information. Scarlet most definitely was pleased by hearing this, evident by how wide her grin was when she heard that Brooke could dance.

“Perfect! That’s perfect,” Scarlet says, “A dance party would be perfect for Brooke, she will absolutely enjoy it. I mean, you need to ask her out first, of course, but how bad can that be?” Scarlet says and Vanjie’s eyebrows were knitted in terror.

“I mean…” Vanjie starts, still very nervous as she fiddles with her hair, “How did you and Ra’jah get together?” Vanjie asks, prompting Scarlet and Ra’jah to stare each other before smirking. But before any of them could reply, Shuga jumps in.

“It was bad,” Shuga mentions and receives a snarl of protest from Scarlet, “Scarlet would always say they were just upfront about their feelings, but, the truth is there was a lot of denial involved,” Shuga says and the couple immediately looks alarmed.

“It always runs with lesbianism.” Yvie comments.

“Always, girl,” Shuga replies, “It finally ended when Ra’jah threw a bouquet of roses at Scarlet’s window and shouted her confession.” Shuga adds and Vanjie and Yvie laugh at its ridiculousness. Scarlet solely looks unimpressed, seeming like she wants to repress that memory.

“So what, do I just throw some flowers at Brooke and hope for the best?”

“Your choice girl. I did it and my girl is still here,” Ra’jah says. Scarlet, looking enamored, smiles at her and blows her a kiss. After, she turns back to Vanjie to relay her the plan again.

“Again, I’ll hold a party. I’ll announce it to everyone until Brooke hears of it. Then, you go up to her, ask her out, whether it’d be through confessing truthfully or throwing flowers, then invite her to the dance party. I assure you that everything will be wonderful after that.” Scarlet says and Vanjie nods slowly, still hesitant that she’s agreeing to Scarlet’s plan. To Yvie, it wasn’t actually a particularly bad plan. In fact, she thought it was simple yet doable, but the problem is that lesbians could never, ever function during confessions.

“Maybe we can do that tomorrow to get things done? The quicker, the better, since you two have been pining for more than a decade,” Scarlet suggests and everyone besides Vanjie hum in agreement. Yvie nudges Vanjie but her reluctance doesn’t really decrease from it.

“If you don’t wanna do it, I won’t force you, of course,” Scarlet says and this is probably the most caring Scarlet has ever been. Vanjie looks up, inhales sharply, then raises a hand.

“No—no, I’m gonna fucking do it,” Vanjie says with a determined tone, causing everyone to cheer for her loudly, “Tomorrow, I’ll walk up to her at lunch and I’m not gonna pussy out.”

“I’ll be there so if you do mess up, I’m just gonna tell Brooke that you have a crush on her,” Yvie says and Vanjie scrunches up her nose.

“No! No, that wouldn’t be romantic. I want it to be like, really romantic. Or cute. I don’t want you yelling at us for it to happen,”

“Are you saying I’m not a romantic or cute person? I am offended,” Yvie says and places a dramatic hand on her chest.

“Oh fuck off, Oddly,” Vanjie replies, “I’ll do it perfectly, don’t worry about it,” Vanjie says confidently yet Yvie still doesn’t have faith on that. In some way or another, she will definitely fuck it up, Yvie bets on it.

“It’s settled then!” Scarlet speaks up again, clasping her hands together joyfully, “I’ll reserve Ozdust right now before anyone else does. No backing out now, Vanj,” Scarlet says as she hops off her bed gracefully, smoothing out her skirt. Since it is expected for Ra’jah to always accompany Scarlet, she also hops off as she winks suggestively at Vanjie.

“Good luck, Vanj, I’ll be seeing you,” Ra’jah says as Scarlet grabs her hand before they exit. Scarlet waves a simple goodbye before heading off to the Ozdust Ballroom, leaving Shuga, Yvie, and Vanjie alone in the suite. Shuga takes this opportunity to lay on Scarlet’s bed; she looks like she’s been wanting to do that since they entered the room. Yvie chuckles at her, relating to her exhaustion.

“God, where am I gonna get a girlfriend like that. Or a boyfriend, I’m cool with any, if anyone wants to hook me up with someone,” Shuga states and Yvie relates to that as well. For close to two decades, Yvie has barely had any friends, let alone someone who’s romantically inclined to her. There were definitely plenty of women who sets Yvie’s gay heart off, but with the face she has, Yvie doubts she’d ever end up with anyone.

“Same,” Yvie says, “If any of you know someone who’s attracted to people with no pupils, let me know. So far, everyone’s just been screaming every time they see my face,” Yvie jokes and it brings a laugh out of Shuga and Vanjie. “You know, you’re really lucky, Vanj. Brooke’s been telling me how much she likes you since… uhm… it’s been a very long time, I mean.”

Vanjie’s eyes widen, “Really?” she says, flustering a bit.

“Yep, I found out around eighth grade when Brooke accidentally said that you were hot in front of me. She immediately reddened and tried to shut me out after I started asking lots of questions,” Yvie says with a fond smile and Vanjie looked very intrigued after hearing that.

“Wow, that’s a very… long time.” Vanjie says.

Shuga coughs, “Lesbians,” she says and Vanjie grunts, “Okay Vanj but I doubt you’d do it perfectly tomorrow. Just let Yvie be there just in case. She’s like, your Plan B, or something,”

“Fine, but I promise you that I won’t fuck it up.” Vanjie says, “Everything’ll be fine.”

Brooke Lynn Hytes was a very lonely person. She was most likely the only one in the campus who had no roommate and even if she knew it wasn’t because people didn’t like her, she still felt terrible that she was alone. The closest she has to a roommate are the professors who stay overnight during busy days that stay in her building because it’s where all the vacant rooms were. Madame Visage stays here often because of the stress she receives as the headmistress. Rumors also say she’s the Wizard’s assistant but Brooke wouldn’t believe anything unless she hears it from the headmistress herself.

In the morning, she always wakes up early. Brooke never has a reason to sleep late in the evening. There were no friends for her to party with nor did she have difficulties in her studies— she wasn’t going to be Munchkinland’s next professor for no reason. Well, the reason is mostly that her father was biased but she never liked that reason. The other reason is that she was immensely intelligent, never getting any grade below A.

It takes Brooke around an hour to get ready for the day. Her tangled legs are never a thing to be proud of. Her legs were almost like jelly as they were intertwined with each other like vines. She could move, but it’d never get anywhere because they’re literally like they were tied. It was hard at first to prepare by herself but after she tried to do everything independently, she eventually got used to it. There was a lot of chairs for everything to work but other than that, there was no other complication.

After she’d get prepared, she always loved to write to herself just to give herself a self-checkup everyday. Her dad would always ask her to do it and now, she can’t go a day without writing in her diary. Not everything was fun, though, as most of her entries were always about how her legs prevented her from doing this and that and how lonely she felt.

The loneliness wasn’t some kind of joke. She and Yvie shared that aspect with one another; it was just Yvie who really didn’t mind it. Even if Brooke was extremely introverted, she really longed for a consistent friend who she can get along with and depend on. Growing up, she and her sister would always be referred to as a freak show by many, hency why no one would try to approach her. For Brooke, people at least were kind when they interacted, but every interaction was nothing more than a question about academics.

The three only other friends she had besides her sister were her obsessive father, her overly kind dance teacher, and this reckless, dumb bitch named Vanessa. Her father was just labelled as a friend because he just loved to spoil her non-stop and would converse to her like a normal person, unlike how he acts towards Yvie. Her dance teacher was the first to see her true potential in dancing and she couldn’t thank her enough for giving her some kind of passion when she thought she was nothing.

Then there’s Vanjie, someone who she thought would never be friends with her. She first knew Vanjie as Yvie’s only friend during kindergarten and Vanjie, the reckless child she is, always loved using Yvie to mess with the other kids, just because they thought it was something hilarious. Yvie, despite being older, started the same age as Brooke because at first, their father refused to treat Yvie like a normal person. If it weren’t for their nanny, Yvie wouldn’t be in the position she was today. Despite studying late, Yvie adapted well, and was actually really happy she had her sister in the same batch she was.

But back to Vanjie— Vanjie used to be someone she just knew because Yvie would always bring her along on the way home. Her father refused to talk to her because of obvious reasons so Brooke was always on the side, watching them. It was only when her father was sick that she got to know Vanjie. The three of them still walked home together but now, Brooke had less restrictions, hence why she began to chatter with the other two. She found out that they were more fun than what she expected, and instead of heading home, they messed around. Even if their father was much disappointed at them, that was the best memory Brooke had of her childhood.

Growing up, Vanjie barely had any shared classes with her, but Vanjie and Brooke always try their best to hangout whenever they were free. She didn’t know how their friendship has lasted that long but she was happy that she had Vanjie. And Brooke knew Yvie loved Vanjie as well even if she’d never admit it.

Now in Shiz, Brooke felt alone more than ever. A month in, she felt awfully homesick. She knew she should be grateful that she’s studying in the most privileged university in all of Oz but she admits she actually misses her father just a bit. Of course she loathed her hatefulness towards Yvie but she misses the compliments and the friendly small talks they shared. All she had now was her sister who sometimes loved to snap back at anyone and gain attention and Vanjie who only occasionally hangs out with her.

That stupid Scarlet Envy loved to hog them away from her, though. The reason why she doesn’t see Vanjie daily is because she was in the same clique Scarlet was in. Brooke thought she actually didn’t fit in with Scarlet and her friends but Vanjie keeps convincing her that Scarlet acts better than what she showcases publicly. They apparently became close when Vanjie moved to the Gillikin County over the summer because of Vanjie’s mom getting a job at Shiz. Vanjie met Ra’jah as her roommate in advance and they kicked it off well, causing Vanjie to be invited into Scarlet’s group.

Scarlet also hogs Yvie away, believe it or not. Yvie and Scarlet love to appear like they loathe each other but Brooke can tell that they really enjoyed each other’s company despite the back and forth insults. Scarlet literally pulled Yvie with her out of class willingly— that’s definitely a sign of development in their friendship.

And with Yvie and Vanjie pulled away from time to time, all she had was… was writing letters to her father and Madame Visage. Brooke should be used to the isolation but she wasn’t— it still hurt from time to time.

At least today, she had Yvie. Yesterday, Vanjie and Yvie literally were grabbed by Scarlet and she was alone on the way to her room in a building that no other student occupied. Brooke was using her time with Yvie wisely because who knows when she will inevitably be pulled away from her again.

Today, their university was hustling and bustling even more than before. Brooke was unbeknownst to why at first until she heard the gossip of what was going on when she wheeled herself to her first class. It was something that had to do with Scarlet, of course, and it has something to do with a dance party. This intrigued Brooke for mainly two reasons: firstly, she and many others were aware of Scarlet’s dancing skills or lack thereof, and secondly, Brooke loved to dance.

The party was in two days and will be held at Ozdust at 7PM. It was actually at a reasonable day and time and despite of her spite towards Scarlet, she was actually considering to drop by. Maybe she might tag along Yvie just because she didn’t want to be that loner in a party. Both she and Yvie loved to dance, the only difference is their style of dancing. Brooke was graceful and her dancing would invoke sereneness and calmness while Yvie’s dancing was more for clubs and raves, always so upbeat and high energy. Both barely showed their skills, though; atoo shy to present themselves in front of other people because of obvious reasons.

So maybe she won’t actually drop by, huh.

“I just realized how many people would actually attend this because of Scarlet, ugh,” Brooke complains to Yvie during lunch as she lazily feeds herself a spoonful of veggies. “Just thinking about it makes me feel claustrophobic.” she adds. She also received a flyer on the way to lunch— apparently some of Scarlet’s followers began promoting the party on her own because of course her followers would love to scout for people they can convert to the Scarlet Envy religion.

“I heard about them talking about last night.” Yvie mentions, her elbow placed on the table as she leaned her cheek against her palm. She didn’t seem to enjoy her meal today, “Scarlet is the worst dancer I’ve seen. She flaps her arms and she calls it ‘professional dancing’, it’s ridiculous.” Yvie says as she feeds herself a piece of her meal. She chews slowly, looking like she wants to spit it out.

“Girl, we know,” Brooke says, “We always know. She’s delusional, I won’t be surprised if she has dementia,” Brooke adds and Yvie hums.

As they continue eating, Brooke kept observing Scarlet’s table. She really couldn’t help herself because her table was literally in front of theirs. There was a safe distance between both, at least, so her followers wouldn’t accidentally bump their table. As per usual, Scarlet’s crowd was as wild, obnoxious, and humongous as ever with Scarlet sitting elegantly on the table as if she were some queen. Scarlet’s friends all seem out of it, just like always, playing with their food as they looked like they want to behead all of Scarlet’s fans.

Eventually, her eyes began trailing off of Scarlet and to Vanjie, who was sitting in the same spot every time she was with Scarlet at lunch. She sat backwards on the chair as she poked at her food, unimpressed by the rowdiness of the crowd. It was weird to see Vanjie so quiet especially when she was known for never shutting up in highschool. Turns out detention isn’t what she needs, it was fanbases who couldn’t go one second without complimenting the same things to someone who they consider as their god.

Every time Vanjie was out of it, Brooke would always hope she would look her way so they can at least exchange glances. If she wasn’t going to hangout with Brooke, a glance and a bright smile is all she needed to be satisfied. It always happened every lunch time when Vanjie was away so it wasn’t a surprise when Vanjie finally locked eyes with her. Vanjie smiles here naturally beautiful yet adorable grin as she waves a tiny hello at Brooke. Brooke also waves, like the usual thing she does in reply.

Weirdly, Vanjie actually stands up. Vanjie would never excuse herself from Scarlet’s group because she actually fears the wrath of Scarlet’s fandom when they become judgmental towards her. So, with her looking like she wants to step out, Brooke became slightly proud but still a bit worried. She gives Vanjie a concerned stare as a sign for her to sit back down again but Vanjie seems persistent in wanting to get to Brooke’s table.

But alas, the fans spotted it before she could escape. “Hey, Vanjie, you’re seeing those freaks again? What’s going on with you?” One yells and Vanjie quickly gets startles as she was pushed back down on her chair. It wasn’t forceful but still, it makes both Yvie and Brooke enraged. Yvie almost grabs her spoon to toss again but Brooke stops her before anything gets more violent.

“You’re lucky to be staying with Scarlet so why don’t you appreciate it? Aren’t you grateful that you’re with her and not… with them?” A girl states as she snorts while gesturing towards Yvie and Brooke. Again, Brooke and Yvie tense up as they give them icy stares. Yvie starts tapping at the table out of habit as she restrains herself from using her powers.

“Yea! Be more appreciative, Vanjie! Aren’t I right, Scarlet?” a guy says as Scarlet slowly becomes panicky. Yvie glares at Scarlet, giving her a sign to not fuck up her answer with a fake reply that might damage her friends’ reputations.

“Alright, settle down, Vanjie probably didn’t mean that,” Scarlet says, not wanting to work for both the side of her fanbase and the side of her friends, “I don’t want anyone to be negative especially when I want everyone to have consistent positive energy until the party comes, you got that?” Scarlet says. Brooke sighs a breath of relief as the crowd began agreeing, leaving both the sisters and Vanjie alone.

“The fuck is wrong with Scarlet’s fans— how—how does she deal with this?” Brooke says, still eyeing the crowd with irritation. “They’re unbelievably dense.”

“Yea, sometimes I feel like Scarlet’s being more manipulated by them than the crowd being manipulated by her. It’s just a new thing I noticed,”

Brooke cocks an eyebrow at Yvie, surprised by how wary and cautious she was of Scarlet out of the blue, “Okay, when did you start caring for Scarlet?”

Yvie was silent as she looks down at her meal. Brooke was definitely suspicious of Yvie now, especially when she just insulted Scarlet a few minutes ago. “Hey, it was just an observation, don’t think of it as anything more than that.” Yvie mumbles as she shoves a few veggies into her mouth in disgust. Brooke gives her a light smile as she somewhat realizes what Yvie is slowly getting herself into. Then again, Yvie’s caring instincts aside, she takes a moment to process what Yvie mentions about Scarlet.

Once Brooke pondered about it thoroughly, she somewhat understood Yvie’s point. Scarlet was much different to her friends in person and sometimes, her dislike towards certain people seemed unnecessary. Brooke doesn’t want to assume but since Scarlet was sculpting another personality in front of her fanbase, Brooke thinks it’s slowly getting mixed into her true personality, and it’s quite worrisome to think that Scarlet was losing her true self because of it.

Then again, it wasn’t Brooke’s problem much since again, she still felt bitter towards Scarlet for stealing away her only friends in life. So, it’d be fine not to meddle with Scarlet’s issues much.

After some time suffering eating greens, the bell finally sounded across the campus. Yvie was glad she could just deny her lunch and grabbed her bag immediately to head off with Brooke to class. But before they could both leave, Vanjie actually makes her way to the duo. She seemed less startled than before but still alert for any fans that’ll spy on Vanjie to spread more gossip.

Thankfully, Yvie was there to keep guard of any disrespectful fans. She can easily scare them off with her dark aura and sharp teeth. If that fails, Yvie isn’t afraid to throw a pen at them while insulting them. Brooke was at least comfortable with Yvie doing that to them since Vanjie was being hurt by these fans.

“Sorry about a while ago, I shouldn’t have tried to escape the pits of hell like that,” Vanjie says as she ties her hair into a messy bun. Brooke licks her lips as stares at Vanjie longingly, thinking that the messy bun look on her was undeniably attractive.

“It’s alright, those fans are fucking nuts,” Yvie says, “I’m like, this close to murdering all of them,” Yvie adds as she raises her left hand and puts her thumb and index finger close together but not too close to look like they were touching. Vanjie sighs in agreement, looking incredibly annoyed.

“Same, but actually, I’d fucking murder them already if I can get away with it.” Vanjie says exasperatedly and the sisters hum in agreement. “But they do make Scarlet happy… or I think they do, I dunno.”

“Debatable but okay,” Yvie says, followed by a minute of odd silence. As they walk towards their classes, Brooke notices how Yvie and Vanjie walked in a slower pace as they seemed to know something Brooke didn’t know. They kept exchanging glances as if they were trying to send secret messages to one another. Brooke eyes them warily as she wheels more slowly, hoping she can get on whatever they’ve been hiding.

“Uh, Brooke, I have something to say,” Vanjie says slowly yet awkwardly as Brooke turns to her with raised eyebrows. It was out of character for Vanjie to start any conversation like that and it causes Brooke’s heart to race and palms to sweat. She also can’t tell if it was anything good or bad but judging by Vanjie’s nervous expression, Brooke expects the worst to come. This was it, Vanjie was going to end their nearly twenty-year friendship, Brooke can feel it.

“Yes?” Brooke manages to say this with no stuttering but inside, panic and anxiety began spreading throughout her body. Vanjie seems just as nervous as she is as she constantly looks away as she nibbles her bottom lip. Yvie, on the other hand, looked unimpressed as she glared at Vanjie threateningly.

“I—uhm,” Vanjie continues but the words seem trapped in her throat, not wanting to escape her lips. It irritates Brooke a bit but she was patient, not wanting to rush Vanjie to confess whatever she has in her head. “I—I’m gonna head to class,” Vanjie manages to say and Brooke’s eyebrows furrow, confused to why Vanjie suddenly avoided what she wanted to discuss.

“Huh, what—“ Yvie suddenly jumps in, probably as bewildered as Brooke was. “Vanjie, what in the fuck—“ she says but couldn’t finish as she began being pulled away by Vanjie, both of the two abruptly leaving Brooke behind as they head to their own class. Brooke stops in her tracks as she grips her wheelchair’s wheels tightly, slightly saddened by Vanjie bailing on her.

“Whatever,” Brooke says bitterly as she headed for her class. It was mathematics so this can undoubtedly distract her from whatever just happened right now. She can just demand answers from Yvie later— everything was going to be fine.

“Brooke! Brooke, hey, uhm, I wanna walk with ya to your room,” Immediately after Brooke wheels out of her class, Vanjie was already waiting outside. Yvie was behind her, looking very disgruntled at Vanjie. Brooke exchanges looks with Yvie before she stares at Vanjie weirdly. She chews the inside of her lip as she tries to process what was going on with Vanjie today.

“Alright, but it’ll be a long walk,” Brooke says as she turns her wheelchair away from them and to the direction of her building. Vanjie looks delighted as she walks beside Brooke, looking equally as nervous as she was joyous. Yvie was trailing behind them and even if Brooke wasn’t looking at her, she knew that Yvie was staring at them carefully like a concerned parent.

“What did you want to say a while ago?” Brooke asks, hoping Vanjie would finally be truthful to her. Vanjie still looks hesitant as she shrugged, most likely trying to keep her composure steady,

“Uhm,” Vanjie says. One giveaway that Vanjie was still masking something was the constant stuttering. She also never stops midway through her sentences because Vanjie likes to ramble most of the time, never stopping when she talks. “You heard of Scarlet’s party? You going to it?” she asks, avoiding Brooke’s gaze.

Brooke goes with it, “No, I don’t think I am. I know you’re going, though, since I don’t think you can decline her invite to the party,” Brooke says and Vanjie shrugs, looking neutral, “At least you’re a great dancer, you’d definitely blend in well there, unlike me,” Brooke says with an awkward chuckle as she gestures to her legs.

“Hey, you can dance! Anyone can dance.” Vanjie says and Brooke smiles at her, flattered by her statement. “If this bitch behind ya can dance then you can too,” Vanjie says as she points her thumb at Yvie who was deadpanning until her name was mentioned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yvie says as Vanjie chuckles at her.

“I was just saying how lovely your dancing is,” Vanjie says.

“Actually, Yvie can go with you to the party so you wouldn’t be too lonely there,” Brooke suggests, “You two have the same kind of dancing style so I think you two would have a great time.”

“Y’know, I was actually gonna, uhm,” Vanjie stutters again and Brooke’s patience is thinning. She waits for a few seconds for Vanjie to continue but she still seems disoriented. What does she want to say?

“Vanj, we’re friends, right? You can tell me anything,” Brooke says in the nicest way possible, hoping it’ll calm Vanjie down enough for her to spill. Vanjie’s lip quivers as she fiddles with her fingers, looking like she’s at a loss on how she wants to confess whatever she has in mind.

“Look, Scarlet planned the party for you and Vanjie’s just trying to ask you out, Brooke,” Unexpectedly, Yvie started to speak behind them, looking just as impatient as Brooke was but more blunt. Yvie immediately receives a sharp glare from Vanjie. Vanjie looked like she wanted to scold Yvie but Yvie remains calm as ever, appearing to be very unbothered by the stares.

Brooke, on the other hand, was shocked to the core. Her eyes widened in a delighted surprise as she stopped wheeling herself to gaze at Vanjie. Before Vanjie decided to beat Yvie up, Vanjie caught Brooke’s curious gaze and flushed, reserving her anger towards Yvie for later.

“Is that what you were trying to tell me?” Brooke asks, her anxiety and irritation replaced with genuine curiosity and slight joy. Vanjie gulps and nods slowly as Yvie seemed relieved that Vanjie was started to act truthfully. Brooke’s lips slowly curve upwards as she takes one of Vanjie’s hands to ease her queasiness. “Hey, look at me,” Brooke says as she notice Vanjie still malfunctioning, “I’d love to go out with you.”

Vanjie’s eyes widen as she quickly perks up, a wide grin like Brooke’s forming on her face as well. “Really? For real real?” Vanjie says as her hands begin shaking. Brooke lets out a small chuckle as she gave a nod.

“Of course, you dumbass!” Brooke exclaims as Vanjie lets out a breath of relief, “I thought you were gonna break up our friendship but this—this is much better. Oz, you should’ve said this earlier! I was panicking the entire time during maths because I thought you hated me.”

“What? I don’t hate you, it’d be weird if I suddenly told you that I hated you after, I don’t fucking know, sixteen years of our friendship.” Vanjie laughs, clearly overly excited and relieved that they finally have it all settled, “So you will go to the dance with me?”

“Of course I fucking will now that you asked!”

“And you’d, uh, I dunno— are we— do you wanna be—”

“Yes, a hundred percent, I’d love to,” Brooke says sincerely. “Never in my wildest dreams did I thought this would actually happen, my Oz— this is probably the best day I’ve had in my life,” Brooke rambles as her heart beats quickly, causing her to act all hyper.

“You’re welcome, lesbians,” Yvie speaks and the two of them jump, forgetting that Yvie was still watching from behind, “You also have to thank Scarlet, by the way,” Yvie says but Brooke has no clue on what she meant behind it.

“I guess her plan actually worked,” Vanjie murmurs then notices the confused expression brooke had, “Oh! I forgot to mention that uhm, she was the one who implemented the party just so I can have the perfect ‘first date’. I didn’t actually believe her when she said her plan was foolproof but at the end, it surprisingly worked,” Vanjie states and it really gives Brooke another perspective on Scarlet.

Maybe Scarlet was deep down really kind-hearted despite her occasional impoliteness. “Huh, wow,” Brooke says, still taking in her realization. “She is actually not as bad as she seems… I, wow— I’m actually a bit speechless by that. I guess I have to thank her for all of this…”

“I’ll make sure to tell her for you,” Yvie says, “Anyways, I’ll be heading off, you lesbians— I heard no other person lives in Brooke’s building so you can just as loud as you want,” Yvie says with a knowing smirk before she turns away nonchalantly. Vanjie snorts at her while Brooke merely flushed just thinking about it.

“Hey you’re thinking about it! I can’t believe you’re thinking about it!” Vanjie calls Brooke out and Brooke slaps her elbow to retort.

Brooke gives her a suggestive wink before she wheels off with Vanjie, flustered and confused, chasing after her.

Yvie sighs at them. She wasn’t gloomy for them in any way but there was light feelings of jealousy she felt within her. Adjusting her bag, she continues walking to her shared suite, wanting to relax herself for the day. The thought of the dance and her sister’s happiness keeps flooding her head and Yvie just wants to shut it all out. The better she accepts that no one will love her, the more this jealousy will pass.

Then again, her mind seems to be fixated at Scarlet as well. Scarlet organized this to happen and was that one push Vanjie needed to finally confess. Not only that but this— this made her sister happy. Scarlet made her sister happy. This was always a big deal for Yvie. Anyone who makes her sister happy is someone Yvie needs to respect wholeheartedly because there are rarely anyone who does so.

Yvie suddenly feels compelled to return Scarlet a favor. Maybe she should… gift her with something.

“Oh, Miss Yvie, where are you headed? You seem to be the only one here,” Out of nowhere, Madame Visage speaks. She seems to have finished her last class and was off to return to her office. Yvie purses her lips as she gets an idea on what she would love to give to Scarlet.

“Madame Visage, I actually have a request…”

“Oh, hey Yves,” Shuga says as Yvie enters the suite. Even if the party was still in two days, Scarlet was already preparing for her outfit to wear. The room was messier than usual as Scarlet has littered it with different kinds of catsuits and dresses that had to be unbelievably gorgeous yet expensive. Shuga was visiting as well, most likely helping Scarlet out since she knew how indecisive she was.

“Heyo, I love how you’re taking out the trash today,” Yvie remarks as she hops over the messily scattered heels on the floor to get to her bed. Scarlet gives Yvie an aggravated glare as she placed one of her dresses on a hanger.

“Actually, I wasn’t sure I was taking out the trash until you walked in,” Scarlet retorts and Yvie, genuinely astounded, chuckles at her. Their back and forth remarks will never be boring for Yvie. “How’s Vanjie and Brooke?”

“A success,” Yvie replies, and both Scarlet and Shuga rejoice in unison, both immensely relieved that everything went well. “But we had to go for Plan B since Vanjie pussied out too much.”

“That was expected, though,” Shuga jokes as she begins folding some of Scarlet’s outfits as if she were her nanny. “So they’re both going to the party?”

“Uhuh, so everything’s gonna be great,”

“Are you going to the party?” Shuga asks, and Yvie shrugs as she places her bag down next to her bed. There was no real reason for Yvie to attend since she didn’t have anyone to accompany her. Every one of Scarlet’s friends would undoubtedly stick with her while Brooke and Vanjie have their own little thing. Yvie would… be alone. Like always.

“I feel like you should go— everyone else is,” Scarlet says and it was a surprise that she insisted Yvie to go. Yvie purses her lips as she actually starts to consider the invitation. Why does she seem compelled to go when Scarlet is the one who requests for her presence? When did she ever begin listening Scarlet Envy?

“Also—“ Scarlet speaks and Shuga apprehensively stares at Scarlet. “Would you want to have this hat I found? It was hiding in the back of my closet and I don’t think it’d suit me if I’d wear it.” Scarlet begins digging into this gigantic box that was sitting next to her closet. The box was filled with funky-looking hats, all different in designs. In the bottom of the box, Scarlet finds what she needs: a pointy, black hat. It was unquestionably oldschool, something Yvie would find her grandmother to wear.

“Here, this is all yours,” Scarlet says, “I think you should wear it to the party,” she adds with most likely a very fake smile but it makes Yvie’s emotions flutter inside her. She knew Scarlet was joking but to Yvie, the hat wasn’t as terrible as she thought it’d be. Firstly, it was in a dark color, so of course it would please Yvie. Yvie wears enough weird outfits to accept this odd hat as something she’d wear. Truly, Yvie appreciates the gift, no matter how much Scarlet meant for it to be a harmless joke.

“Thanks, Scar,” Yvie says and both Scarlet and Shuga were surprised by her sincere thankfulness for the hat and how she used a nickname for Scarlet. Scarlet blinks a couple of times while she furrowed her eyebrows, perplexed by how Yvie was reacting to the hat.

“I—are you actually gonna wear that horrendous hat?” Scarlet says, “You will literally look like a garden gnome, Yvie, I recommend you don’t do it.”

“Oh wow, Miss Scarlet Envy actually cares about me? How sweet,” Yvie says in reply and Scarlet huffs out a breath, “No, really, I actually like it. Fits with my aesthetic,” Yvie says as she places it on top of her head. It wasn’t sitting directly on top but actually, she decides to put it on the left side of her head and keep it slanted. Looking at the mirror near their window, she adjusts it to look the way Yvie wanted it to look.

“Oh? Okay then, weirdo.” Scarlet says, “People are going to judge you for the hat, though, so try your best not to wear it since you already get bullied enough.” Scarlet warns her. Yvie thinks it’s cute whenever she witnesses Scarlet be all careful and motherly towards Yvie. It was rare but it makes Yvie feel great, for some reason.

“It’s been a month, I’m used to it.”

“Are you actually going to the party, honey?” Shuga asks and Yvie pauses. This week has been a pleasant week for Yvie regarding academics. Her professors were kind enough to give most of the students a break this week, their homework being given to a minimum. So, there was no academics getting in the way of the party. And albeit all the expected, judgmental looks Yvie will receive during the party, Yvie does want to go party at least once in her college life. Yvie was a wild bitch, and maybe, she can try having fun for once in this dance party of Scarlet’s.

Yvie, with a confident smirk, replies, “Hell yea.”

It was 6:40 and Yvie still remained stood in front of her mirror, checking how she looks for the hundredth time. She doesn’t even know why she was still fixing how she looks when she clearly didn’t want to dress to impress. She dresses to depress. Her hair looked just how it did like always, its buns still staying the same way it was styled this morning. Her dress was somewhat similar to the dresses she wore daily, only this time, it was slightly more revealing and lacy. She kept her word and wore the freaky hat Scarlet gave to her because believe it or not, her adoration for the hat still hasn’t faded. It fit well with her outfit anyways so there was no big issue there.

Tonight, she was supposed to have fun, but here she is, checking to see if she was passable enough for the party. Something bothered her and she didn’t know why. For the past days, she didn’t know why any interaction with Scarlet tickles her insides. She feels like mush whenever they exchange jokes and she flusters harshly whenever Scarlet would genuinely compliment or converse with her. And now, she wishes that she looked just as appealing as Scarlet was. She doesn’t know why she suddenly craves for Scarlet’s praise and appreciation but she does. And now, her bothering thoughts wouldn’t stop pestering and now she’s conflicted on her appearance.

She looks at her pocket watch again– 6:44. The party most likely has started already since many arrived early. Scarlet already left with her clique and Vanjie and Brooke left as well just so they can spend more time with each other. Yvie said she would follow fifteen minutes ago and now, she’s still in the same place she was pacing around earlier.

Yvie sighed as she grabbed her bag– she truly was a pathetic piece of shit, huh.

Yvie decides to leave after enough convincing from herself. Even if her horrible was horrible, Scarlet would be very much displeased if she came in late, and Yvie definitely didn’t want to ruin her excited mood.

Because of their early arrival, both Brooke and Vanjie got a spot of their own near the corners of the room to stay away from any other person as much as possible. Brooke looked absolutely stunning, preparing effortfully for tonight. She wore an emerald green, flowy dress that hugged her body really well. Thanks to Vanjie, she had less struggles putting the dress on and styling her hair for tonight. Vanjie, on the other hand, wore something complimentary– a red dress that had only one sleeve while the exposed arm and shoulder was slathered with gold glitters. And because Brooke loved it, she made Vanjie tie her hair into a messy bun again.

And so far, her night has been amazing. Only thirty minutes has passed since their arrival and they’ve been grooving to the music like there was no tomorrow. Brooke has twirled so much in her wheelchair that she started becoming slightly light headed. If they weren’t spinning around, they would use their arms to do simple dance moves. Even if the amount of dance moves Brooke can execute is limited, she was having a blast with Vanjie.

“How was Scarlet able to find this much bands in like, two days? There’s a whole fucking set of them just waiting to perform.” Brooke says, or most accurately, shouts, since the music was blasting across the ballroom. Vanjie shrugs as she bounces to the loud music, enjoying how incredibly vigorous the band was.

“I don’t know but I fucking love it. These bitches are talented as fuck, it’s insane,” Vanjie says as she cheers on the singers on the stage. Brooke also chimed in, cheering for them happily just like everyone else is. The singers seem to respond greatly to it, quickly amping up their song to its maximum. Both Brooke and Vanjie rock to the music, their energy never wavering, prompting them to continuously pump out dance moves at every second.

“I’m having the time of my fucking life!” Brooke shouts at Vanjie, “God, I’d love to do this monthly if Scarlet is willing to do so.”

“She’s rich as fuck, she can do whatever she wants, if I’m being honest,” Vanjie replies, “I’ll tell her that, I’m sure she’ll keep the recommendation in mind,” Vanjie says with a wink and Brooke laughs at her.

Then, Brooke proceeds to take Vanjie’s hands to twirl her around on the beat of the music. Vanjie was disoriented when she spun but it Brooke was thoroughly entertained by her. Vanjie then returns the favor and twirls Brooke around. She spins with ease since she’s done this multiple times before with her wheelchair. They both share another laugh until their laughter dies out.

“Oz, you are so beautiful,” Vanjie says out of the blue and Brooke blushes. At least under the colored lighting, it wasn’t clearly visible. “I’ve been waiting for this since– since fucking seventh grade.”

“I was waiting since sixth grade, how about that?” Brooke says, “We were just so oblivious to each other back then, it makes me cringe just thinking about it.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Brooke almost jumped out of her wheelchair, “Wh–wait what?”

“Ugh, Brooke, can I fucking kiss you?” Vanjie asks, clearly flustered.

Brooke’s heart beats quickly that she feels like it could jump out the next time she exhales. She fiddles with her wheelchair’s handles for a moment before nodding excessively. Vanjie then kneels as if she were to propose to Brooke and leans forward. They stare at each other longingly before Vanjie leans in and places her soft lips on Brooke’s. The kiss wasn’t too deep nor long– it was just a simple, sweet peck. Despite it being a short kiss, it made Brooke’s heart race as if she ran a mile.

Once Vanjie let go, there was a permanent smile planted on Brooke’s face. Vanjie had the same expression as well as she giddily bounced out of excitement. “That… I love that. I feel like we should do that more often,” Brooke says, sounding like a foolish idiot.

“I think we should.” Vanjie says, “D’ya wanna–?”

“Yes, go ahead,” Brooke replies and Vanjie kneels down again to give her another affectionate kiss.

Meanwhile, at the other side of the ballroom, Ra’jah was tutoring Scarlet on how to dance. Thankfully, there was less of a crowd since everyone wanted to have their own fun with dancing, and Scarlet felt more free because of it. Then again, there were still many eyes on her, and it was very much pressuring especially when she realized that she can’t dance if her life depended on it. It was quite frankly embarrassing that she needed Ra’jah’s guidance since a lot of people were watching but Ra’jah always makes sure that Scarlet would be enjoying the party.

“Like this?” Scarlet asks as she flails her arms around while moving her hips to the rhythm. Ra’jah snorts at her for the millionth time tonight and Scarlet grumpily huffs at her. “You always keep laughing at me! Oz, I really must not be able to dance,”

“You know, it’s bad when Brooke, someone on a wheelchair, and Madame Visage, an old bitch, are both better at dancing than you are.” Ra’jah remarks and Scarlet slaps her forearm jokingly. Then, Scarlet pauses as she realizes that Madame Visage was present. How did she not notice her entering the ballroom? And what in the world was she doing here?

“Madame Visage?” Scarlet asks and Ra’jah gestures to the headmistress who was grooving near the center of the ballroom as if she were twenty years younger. Many have been cheering her on and honestly, it was a nice thing to see from the headmistress. Even if she were scarily serious at times, it was nice to know she also had this fun aspect in her.

Scarlet decides to cheer on for her as well. The headmistress then turns towards her direction and Scarlet decides to cheer even louder. Madame Visage smiles as if she was pleased and shimmies towards Scarlet’s direction.

“Scarlet, this party’s great! How did you even manage all of this in two days?” the headmistress says and Scarlet immediately feels flattered.

“I have my ways,” Scarlet replies with a prideful expression.

“It’s like magic, honestly,” Madame Visage says, “And speaking of magic, I have something for you,” Madame Visage opens up her purse and brings out this elongated box from it. The box was simply red but it seemed to hold more importance to it. The headmistress hands the box for Scarlet to open and like a child opening presents, Scarlet lifts the lid.

Inside, there was a wand. Not some kind of pretentious toy wand you’d find in most toy shops; this was a real wand. Its design was simple: it merely looked like a brown stick. On the bottom, there was a ruby attached to it that was carved like a rose.

“I— wait wait wait, what’s going on?” Scarlet says as her hands begin to shake.

“I’ll be meeting you on Monday, next week.” Madame Visage says with a wink. Scarlet thinks about her statement for a second and when she finally understood, Scarlet gasps loudly and squeals. She couldn’t believe it— she was invited to attend Madame Visage’s sorcery class. She thought it would be impossible to get into her class after how much they butt heads but now, she actually got in. How did she even make it in?

“I don’t— I don’t recall myself auditioning or applying for the class besides my attempt on the first day so… why?”

“Just thank Miss Oddly for that,” Madame Visage says before walking away and dancing again. Scarlet, still in disbelief, looks down at the wand in awe again. Yvie… Yvie, despite their constant bickering, requested for Scarlet to join her class. Yvie, despite Scarlet’s numerous fans verbally bullying her, personally asked Madame Visage to give Scarlet such an expensive wand. Yvie, despite receiving such a terrible hat from Scarlet, personally asked Madame Visage for Scarlet to receive lessons that would make her a master at sorcery.

Scarlet was close to sobbing uncontrollably because of it. She did nothing to deserve Yvie Oddly yet Yvie’s out here giving Scarlet the best gift she could possibly receive.

Right when Scarlet was about to tell Ra’jah war just occured, the noise and the music of the room suddenly dies down. The silence was incredibly thick and everyone seemed to stare at something, or rather, someone, who entered the ballroom. As Scarlet looks up, there she sees Yvie Oddly making a grand entrance into the ballroom. As always, she seemed confident and her courage was never wavering.

But Yvie, truly, was a bit frightened as she entered the room. She didn’t expect everyone to notice her when she entered and the pregnant silence just made her more nervous. Yvie knew she would get attention but she didn’t think the whole room would grow silent just to judgmentally gaze at her.

Yvie tries her best not to run away from the party, though. She walks down the steps that led to the main dancefloor as everyone watched. She can tell a few people were already whispering gossip about her and she tries her best to ignore it while she made her way to the center. Once she got there, she began dancing on her own, twirling and moving her arms gracefully to… to an imaginary rhythm.

But after two sets of her horrible dancing, someone walks up to her from the crowd. It was Scarlet Envy, there in the flesh, with her red catsuit covered in fake roses. They stare at each other first before Scarlet began to follow Yvie’s moves, dancing it as horribly as Yvie was dancing them. Yvie started to smile as Scarlet began having fun with the moves, twirling closer and closer to Yvie as she does so.

“What’re you guys doing?” Madame Visage yells, “start the music already!” she exclaims as everyone suddenly cheers, opposite to what their attitude was a minute ago. Scarlet giggles joyfully as she still continued dancing with Yvie, even grabbing Yvie’s hand to twirl around with her. Yvie also begins to smile as well, her fear being replaced with an immense glee as they dance around like no one is watching.

Yvie doesn’t know exactly why Scarlet decided to save her ass now or why she suddenly became all carefree. But… it felt nice. Yvie felt like she was in absolute bliss. Without them being at each other’s throats, they both suddenly feel like they were in paradise, in heaven.

But in the midst of their dancing, Yvie does realize something. Whenever she was with Scarlet, her pessimism seems to ease up as her happiness seems to increase tenfold. There was a weird feeling in her stomach every time she looks at Scarlet. Whether she’d merely exchange a few words with her or she’d simply make eye contact with her, Yvie felt her mouth go dry as she sometimes stood speechless merely just observing the redheads.

Yvie realized that she was developing a crush towards Scarlet Envy.

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amongthebriars · 5 years

Text

Sound of Silence || Harddox & Kit

In which this proceeds Collisions of Diplomacy and we get, in various turns, Harland experiencing the many aspects of what it means to watch over Kit Scarlet and her guard during recovery. Sometimes, there are worse things to do. Other times, perhaps these are the worse things.

TW: Old Men Feelings, Smut Mentioned, Violence, Blood Mention, Manipulation, Internalized Victim Blaming, Alcoholism, Death Thoughts (this is a wild ride guys)

@the-kit-scarlet

MADDOX:

Ever since the King had arrived, the Briar estate seemed to be holding its breath. Initial courtesies were exchanged briefly before the King demanded to see his beloved. Of course, Maddox was expected to accompany them. Their reunion- had a spectator been present- would have looked like they were the happiest couple in the world. Maddox knew better. He saw the way Kit flinched, attempting to hide the pain that his touches caused her blistering skin. Earlier this morning, Kit could barely sit upright to eat. Now, she was jumping into Oberon’s arms as if she was completely healed.

For his loyalty, he was rewarded with a smarting jaw that he was still rubbing when he exited the room, Duke Briar standing outside the door, looking as if he had been struck himself. Maddox did not say anything, just leaned his head back against the door. The other guards had been instructed to scatter and to cover the perimeter. The nearest guard was a good five meters away.

Maddox sighed, knuckles blanching as he curled his hands into fists.

HARLAND:

The Duke should have expected something like silence to fall over the estate the moment Oberon set foot on it again. There was always something eerie about such things, especially when the place was usually filled with a lightness that was indiscernible now. Even before Kit had come here, Harland strove to wipe away the memories that damned his life. He had tried to make it a home and, now, Oberon had turned it rotten.

He had been present when the king entered Kit's chambers, acting as though he owned the place, and it made the Duke's blood boil. He had been there that morning, as well, when the blonde had scarcely been able to eat for her blistering skin, yet now she threw herself at the pale bastard like he was her lifeline.

The sight turned his stomach.

After exchanging his cordalities, Harland had left the room to handle the guard. When he'd returned, leaning against the wall, Maddox was just exiting the room. The guard was rubbing at his jaw and Harland could see the faint outline of a dark welt already forming.

The Sidhe turned to fully face the man then, anger in his gaze, and moved the hand out of the way. Maddox was leaned up against the door and the nearest guard was down the hall. Harland had enough time to curse under his breath and examine the bruising, standing straight as he contemplated barging into the room and dragging the rat out by his hair.

The noises he could hear behind the door stopped him and he curled his lip in disgust, unaware that his hand still held the guard's face in his palm.

MADDOX:

Maddox sighed. “Do I disgust you so, Harland?” Maddox asked quietly but withdrew his face regardless of what Briar said. He turned his head away so that only his uninjured side was facing the Duke.

“You will make it worse for my mistress and I if you do what you are thinking,” Maddox said quietly, “you do know that, right? I know you want to protect us. But there are threats that no one on the outside could reduce. You are new to this world, Your Grace. We need to tread lightly.”

It was impossible to pretend what was happening in there was not happening. If the guards had been farther, if it had just been Harland and him, Maddox might have let the tears he was fighting fall. Had he been as naive as Kit? To think that the King might have been content with just visiting the woman he kept calling beloved?

He was as foolish as she was. They had been in this game long enough to know better. He began to roll his neck, fidgeting.

HARLAND:

The blond stood in silence for a moment longer, eyes boring into the door. His gaze only moved when he registered the guard's words, shock, surprise, and some profound sadness he refused to name leaking into his gaze. Maddox moved until Harland's hand fell from his face, his uninjured side presented like he was expecting the Duke to strike him, too.

"Maddox," he said, voice quiet so it did not carry but loud enough that it caught the man's attention. "No. I don't. I-" Harland stopped himself, swallowing down the words he'd been so ready to say. Handsome. Charming. Brave. But, no, not ugly. Never. Not even when he had sneered at the thought of his being an Unseelie and, even then, Harland knew he would burn himself on him if he could. He didn't trust himself to speak now, did not know if the words would slip out. He listened, instead, and knew what Maddox was saying was true.

Finally, after a long moment, the Sidhe lay a careful hand along the back of Maddox's neck, gave a small squeeze, a brush of fingertips through hair, and then dropped his hand and moved away. "I know," he said, and the admission was bitter on his tongue. It was what he did, protect. Offer himself as a shield. Be the one that took the brunt of things.

It was all he had been good for, once.

"We will. It is a promise."

MADDOX:

He heard the other man’s words but did not react. There was too much ugliness now. Too many eyes watching. He knew better than to look the part of anything but a disgruntled bodyguard, forced to break bread with a Seelie Duke for the sake of his mistress.

Still, he could not stop the chills that crawled down his spine as Harland touched him ever so lightly.

“Definitely foolish, if I had to choose now, Your Grace,” Maddox replied, referencing a much earlier conversation. From before they had begun their descent into insanity. “They have already begun to whisper. Would you mar a princess’ reputation so simply because you cannot keep your hands to yourself until later?”

There was a ghost of a smile at his lips.

HARLAND:

Despite the non-reaction, Harland felt a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, a tad smug. He'd felt the shiver that had run down Maddox's spine like it was a living thing. Instead of doing what he wanted, however, which was run a finger down the back of his spine until Maddox did it again, Harland leaned against the wall beside him, shoulders brushing. Other than the close quarters, which could easily be explained away by the size of the hall, neither man looked to be doing anything except conversing.

In fact, Harland probably looked like he'd just pissed the other faerie off.

"And what does that make you, hm?" The Duke followed the guard that walked by with his eyes, noting that he didn't look anywhere near Kit's chambers. Good, that was just as well. Canting his head to the side, Harland gave a quiet snort. "Not unwillingly, no, but a whisper is a small thing, easily ignored. Perhaps not here but, there are ways around them."

Just to prove his point, Harland flicked out one of his hands when he readjusted his stance, dragging his nails down the exposed forearm at his side, a barely concealed smirk lighting up his eyes for a moment before it was swallowed up by the ever-present mask of the diplomat, arms folded across his chest as a show of good faith.

Ignoring the sounds through the door was proving to be difficult, however, and he itched for a bottle to block out the sounds. Or, at the very least, something else to focus on.

"How do you stand it, truly, Maddox? I...it is one thing, to be her guard, to care for her even, but to...listen to this and do nothing…"

MADDOX:

He groaned softly. “You are a royal pain in my ass, Your Grace- and no, do not say anything of the sort or I swear I will knock your pretty teeth right out of your mouth,” Maddox growled. “Which would be a shame. Please do not force my hand.”

He was looking anyway but the Duke and anyway but behind him. He watched carefully, ensuring no one circled too close.

“Tell me, what would you have me do? Shall I burst down the door so my King can decide to take my eye? Or should I try to prevent him from coupling with a woman who jumps into his arms no matter how bad she’s hurting?” Maddox hissed with venom in his voice. Maddox balled his hands into fists, wishing so badly he could hit something.

“Did you know I am the oldest in the King’s employ, Your Grace? His employ is not exactly known for its absence of hazards.”

HARLAND:

The Duke snickered quietly under his breath, the corners of his eyes crinkling at the groan, the words Maddox was saying. It was about as threatening as a pup was on its first day or training. That was to say, it wasn't at all.

"You'd miss them too much, I'm sure," he returned, voice formal even with the topic. The guards who moved around the perimeter would think nothing of the sound, certainly not of the look on his or the guard's, not with what they knew was occurring beyond the door they guarded.

The Duke winced at the tone but understood that it was not directed at him, this ire, the frustration. No, Maddox cared for the woman he protected, perhaps more than he should, given who her lover was, but it was not something that bothered Harland. It did, however, explain away his irritation. Maddox had, unknowingly, answered the insinuation without a direct word on it.

Harland figured he would probably like to keep it that way, if the assumption was true. There were few more dangerous things than loving Kit Scarlet.

"Live," he whispered, surprising even himself. He cleared his throat, then, and ducked his head, fingers toying with a cuff as he heaved a sigh. "Live, Maddox. It's all I ask and, I'm certain, all Kit would want. You do no one any good buried in an unmarked grave. Which is why I'll do nothing, not here, and certainly not now. I just-"

Harland stopped himself, a frustrated whine escaping his throat before he could stop it, and he pressed a hand to his eyes, as though he had a throbbing behind them.

"I don't like...the pain. Hearing it. Seeing it. Call me a fool all you'd like but it's more than just a bruise, or a breaching of lord's laws, it's a deliberate attempt to undermine what's-" his. He drew in a sharp breath and let it out slowly, laying his head back against the wall.

How had he fallen so far in so little time?

What had he done, to prompt such a thing, to even warrant it? Harland Briar was not a good man, nor did he deserve anything like kindness. And this?

He hardly believes he deserved any of it at all.

MADDOX:

Maddox turned on his heel quickly, violently, and shoved the Duke against the door. A forearm was pressed against the Duke’s chest and to Maddox’s infinite anger, he had to look up slightly to meet the Duke’s gaze. A guard passing by drew near, but Maddox did not turn his gaze away.

“Consider it revenge for Ser Gregor, Mik. Walk along,” Maddox said, his voice gruff. It was a testament to how brazen Aven’s guards were that he did indeed walk along as an Unseelie guard had a Seelie Duke pinned against a wall in his own home.

“Do not speak to me of what Kit wants. She’s a woman courting disaster at every turn. She ran from the arms of a mad dog into the arms of a mad fucking king,” Maddox’s voice was barely audible and he was trembling with a fury he had not realized he had possessed.

“For one hundred and six years, I have been trying to do exactly that. And in a few days, your court has undone it all. You think you can save us, Your Grace? My death warrant was signed the moment Balthazar fucking Black raised his hand against Kit and I could not protect her. Maybe the King will keep me alive until I have outlived my use, but from that moment forward I have been a dead man walking. You cannot shield me from this. Just as I cannot shield her from him.”

Maddox groaned, withdrawing sharply as he shoved the fae further away from him. His hands went to rake across his scalp. “The pain comes with the territory, Harland. It is only a temporary living arrangement. We will go back to Roheim. You can pretend whatever you like once we have gone. But I beg of you, do not pretend there is a way to protect us once we leave this estate. I am far too old to be filled with such ideas. And she is far too injured.” The moans from the room grew into a crescendo and Maddox thought he might burst.

“I can live with bruises. I can live with all the rest.” But I cannot dare to hope for something more than this, surely you know that. I can only hope what the Nighthawks have learned was useful and that I can bear the brunt of Kit’s pain. It is too dangerous to dare for anything else.

What he would give to be alone with the Duke, away from prying eyes.

HARLAND:

Somehow, he was hardly surprised anymore that this is where he'd land. It had been his lot in life since he'd met Balthazar Black, perhaps even before. He bore it well, all things considered.

The breath rushed from his lungs as Maddox slammed him into the wall, a forearm pressing into his chest, back against the wall. His fingers twitched, an immediate reaction to a threat, but the Duke didn't do what they wanted, this time. The guard was not going to hurt him as angry as he was, as pained.

Harland deserved this, if anything. It had been a long time coming.

Another guard attempted to come closer and Maddox sent them off as easily as one would swatting at a fly. If they were anywhere else Harland would have been impressed. But, now, he was just filled with regret, with sorrow. He knew, in some way, that the other faerie was right. And, yet, Harland wished he wasn't, even still.

The Duke sucked in a breath, eyes never leaving Maddox's face, and his hands were careful where they fell, fingers curling into the bottom of his tunic, just at the edge of the leathers, and the other around his collar. To anyone looking, Maddox would have looked to be caught just as Harland was.

When Maddox pulled away, Harland stayed, caught against the wall like an animal in a trap. Watching Maddox felt like being stabbed; hearing the moans of pain and pleasure behind the door only made it worse. Raking his eyes over the man told the Sidhe all he needed to know. Surging forward off the wall, Harland caught him by an arm. The guard nearby watched and the Duke affected a sneer, anger there that he did not feel as he growled something. His eyes, they would tell you the difference. It did not reach the eyes.

And his words held nothing he meant.

Harland's pace was quick, maneuvering them a hall away. They could still hear what came from the room. However, they were far enough away that it could be drowned out by the closing of a door. It was what they needed against their frayed edges, now, a balm for the pain and the anger. The Duke leaned against the door for a moment, breathing before he let his mask fall.

Moving forward, hesitant, careful, he took Maddox's face into his hands, tilted it to make him look. He studied the man's face, held his gaze, a thumb rubbing along the scar at the side of his jaw. "Your death warrant was signed the moment you became her guard, Maddox, but that doesn't mean I can't try. Kit would want you to stay as safe as you can. You know that. Regardless of who she's run to, you've been there. For everything. You know I'm right."

He let out a slow breath, a stutter more than anything. Breathed in, let it out. He did this again and again, a pace for Maddox to set his own to until he'd calmed himself. Until it calmed Harland, too.

"My court may be to blame, but I am trying to rectify that mistake, for more than just that reason. You might be able to live with her pain, but can she live with yours?" A finger traced the bruise along the edge of Maddox's jaw and Harland sickened at the thought that crossed his mind. "We'll glamour it to look worse. But you're putting something on it. It would be small, nothing to be noticed. They think I'm angry. So let them believe it." He smiled slightly, a boyish grin for such a grim situation, "at the very least it won't ruin your reputation."

MADDOX:

Maddox held his breath as the other fae rubbed his jaw. He was far too angry to be feeling any of the things he felt right now. But still, the feelings persisted. In another room, his King was making love to a woman whose skin was barely able to tolerate any movement without nearly blacking out from the pain. In here, he felt as if he was being torn asunder. He had no business feeling anything but hate for a Seelie Duke. But still, the feelings persisted.

It was far too dangerous to kiss a Seelie Duke when King Aven was in another room. But still, Maddox crashed his lips against Harland’s with a ferocity that he could not entirely control. He pulled Harland into him, slamming his back against the door. Maddox’s hands were far too eager, tugging at hems and slipping under tunics. It was gluttonous the way his hands were devouring every part of Harland they could touch.

He pulled his lips away from Harland with a slight groan, nuzzling his face into the crook of the fae’s shoulder. His teeth were grazing against the hard flesh there and he let his tongue dart between his lips. Harland was salty on his tongue and Maddox thought he would never get enough. He began to work his way up his neck, alternating kisses and barely there bites near his earlobe.

“Do whatever you want then,” Maddox said, his voice hoarse, “just stop talking. Please.” His voice was breaking and he hated himself for it. He placed a hand on Harland’s jaw, tugging him until their lips met again.

He could not help the tears that stung at his eyes and responded by kissing Harland harder as if he could drown out all his pain and sorrow by burying himself into him.

HARLAND:

As Harland watched the guard's face, he saw something there that he thought that, perhaps, he was not meant to. Or, perhaps, he was being allowed to. There was an anger in Maddox's face, something so deeply penetrating that it could swallow someone whole if they allowed it. But, alongside it, there was sadness, frustration, indecision. All of it swirled in the dark depths of the Unseelie's eyes before Harland found himself consumed by the violence of him.

Maddox surged forward as he tugged the Duke in, mouth crashing into his with a ferocity the blond had not yet witnessed. His back hit the door and he thanked the Celestials that the wood was thick, that the hinges were good, and that they made little noise. The force behind the action had the Duke gasping out a breath, the air stolen by Maddox's mouth as he devoured.

Harland's skin prickled at the feeling of hands on him, skimming and clawing at skin like he was a drowning man, rucking up Harland's tunic and sliding beneath. The groan that escaped the Duke's mouth was deep, guttural. He pressed himself closer, then, a hand curling first at the base of Maddox's neck and then dipping lower, skimming fingertips just beneath the collar of his shirt. He responded to the mouth attached to his, flicking out his tongue to lick at the seam of the other faerie's lips, seeking an access that only Maddox could give.

When Maddox pulled away, face nuzzling into the skin at Harland's neck and shoulder, the Duke's head fell back against the door, hips angling to press into the other man's with another, low groan. He dropped the hand that had remained at the guard's jaw and found his hip instead, tugging him as close as their positions would allow. After a moment to breath, Harland pushed forward, teeth catching at the underside of Maddox's jaw. He dropped small, light kisses to the skin, traveled down the shoulder as the angle allowed, teeth hooking into the muscle on one particularly hard kiss.

When they were seperated once more, Harland's chest rose and fell quickly. The utterly wrecked sound Maddox made as he spoke, the way his voice broke, felt like something sharp had pierced his chest. He could only nod as the guard tugged at his jaw, could only follow as Maddox began to kiss him again. The wetness on Maddox's cheeks startled him but the hand that Harland had reached up to tangle into the short depths of Maddox's hair wiped them away.

The Duke broke the bruising kiss after a moment, angling his lips up the side of Maddox's jaw, across his scar, resting just below his ear. Head bowed, Harland licked his lips. "What do you need, Maddox?"

MADDOX:

He wanted to melt into his touch as he felt Harland wipe tears away that he was too proud to admit were his own. Every fiber of his being seemed to be coming alive, twitching and vibrating with an energy and a life of its own. He could not quite catch his breath and he was positive that at any given moment his heart would beat out of his chest.

He could barely hear what the Duke was saying over the pounding of blood in his ears. He only knew that for all he said he needed Harland to shut up; he would have happily listened to Harland speak forever any other time. But they were running on borrowed time and there was still more of Harland he wanted to commit to memory.

“I was hoping you would know,” Maddox replied, his lips first pressing against Harland’s temple before meeting Harland’s lips. His hands were trembling now- anxiety or desire?- as they slid down the man’s torso. His thumbs rubbed near his hips, asking for an invitation to keep going.

HARLAND:

The hand Harland had curled around Maddox's hip tightened minutely, tugged at him to move him, to get him standing between Harland's thighs. There was a moment where the Duke shut his eyes, the feeling of lips at his temple almost overwhelming. The action was so soft that he wanted to tuck it away, keep it close and never let it go. A small, pained sound fell past his lips, swallowed by the mouth on his again.

Harland nodded, nose knocking into the guard's as he broke the kiss, tilting to rest his forehead against the other faerie's for a moment. A slight smile crossed his face before it was gone. The Duke knew they were operating on not enough time. There was so much he wanted to know, to memorize, but he would content himself for this, whatever this was, for now.

The hands that skimmed down his chest and torso, that landed at his hips, waiting, made Harland suck in a breath through his nose. Angling his head, one hand coming up to grasp at Maddox's chin, Harland kissed him thoroughly, pressing his hips into his hands. The hand at his hip skimmed its fingertips just across the front of him, tugging at the laces on the front of his trousers and pressing into the bulge beneath his hand, a question and an answer in one.

MADDOX:

Even if they had forever, would it be enough? Maddox did not hesitate to grant himself further access. For all they were rushing and crashing into each, Maddox took his time undoing the laces. It was far too dangerous and they were both far too cautious to be unnecessarily reckless and rip items that could not be quickly repaired or explained away.

His hand traveled lower, taking time to caress every inch. It was almost enough to feel Harland shiver against him and to feel rather than hear the groan muffled against his own shoulder. Almost.

This would have been better on a bed. In a room with a bolted door, where he would have had all the space he needed to explore him. To watch his reactions to his touch, rather than have to bite them back.

His thumb traced the length of Harland’s cock slowly, with his other hand running up Harland’s back and curving him so his head rested in the crook of his neck. He might not be able to see as much as he wanted, but he would not miss a single sound that came from his lips.

HARLAND:

Harland's hand was careful as it untied the laces at the front of Maddox's breeches, slipping a hand beneath the skin-warmed fabric, palming the guard's cock with sure fingers. Despite the urgency in their motives, the Duke took his time dragging his nails down the length of the faerie in his hands, just as he shuddered at the hand against his own flesh. He pressed closer, canting his hips in with a whine, unable to suppress the sound.

The groan that escaped him when a thumb brushed over the length of him came from deep within his chest, barely muffled in the crook of Maddox's shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the skin there as he moved his own hand, exploring as much as he was enjoying touching, wishing he could touch more. Could touch everything.

Circling his hand round the head of Maddox's cock, swiping a thumb through the precum at the tip, Harland began to move his hand in a slow pace. What he wouldn't give for a bed, for time to look and explore and learn. What he would not give for the chance to truly hear the man. Harland contented himself with the way they were; the angle allowed him to nose the fabric away from the guard's shoulder, to alternate kisses and light bites to the skin as he began to pump the shaft in his hand.

His free hand found its way to the base of Maddox's spine, skimming beneath his tunic and anchoring himself in the muscles there. It would leave a mark, but it would be hidden. He would have to content himself with that.

MADDOX:

If he did not take Harland to bed, he might just kill him for the way he felt he was losing himself underneath the other’s touch. He was not one that lost control easily. Yet here was, whimpering against Harland. He wanted so badly to focus on giving more pleasure than he was receiving.

But with each stroke of Harland’s hand, Maddox found himself involuntarily pausing and inhaling sharply. It was far too distracting. Next time, he would need to find a way to keep Harland’s hands out of the way so he could take his time. Next time, there would be no interruptions.

But too soon, Maddox realized that the rest of the estate had fallen silent. He cursed against Harland’s neck, stealing one last kiss before withdrawing himself. He began to straighten his trousers and once done, leaned back in to steal another.

“Whatever magic or tricks you planned, best make it quick,” Maddox said. He grabbed his sword then, keeping a wide berth between Harland and himself. He flashed an apologetic smile, before striking his ribs with a force that nearly caused his knees to buckle.

“Best make sure they believe you are angry,” Maddox hissed through a grimace as he placed his sword back in its scabbard.

HARLAND:

The quiet whimpers that escaped the faerie in his hands egged Harland on. If anything else, he wanted to hear him. It did not matter that the hand on him had stilled now, even as Harland pressed his hips into Maddox's hands. He didn't care. No, he was entirely focused on the noises he was wringing from the guard, wondered what he would sound like if they were entirely alone if they could be as loud as they wanted.

It was not the first time he had cursed the king, but he certainly did that when Maddox cursed and pulled away. Harland stilled his hand, listening to his own breathing. He realized then that he could hear no other sound. Not even the guards were stirring. The Duke cursed again and the sound was swallowed by Maddox's mouth as he leaned in, stealing another kiss. Harland pressed forward, deepened it for a moment, before sighing and drawing away.

He watched, irritation flashing across his face at their predicament, at the damnable conditions of it all, as Maddox fixed himself and replaced his trousers before leaning back into the blond and stealing another kiss. Harland wanted to linger here, for just another moment, but sighed instead, nodding his head as he, too, fixed himself in his trousers.

Eyes widening when he realized what Maddox was about to do, Harland flicked out a hand. A strand of magic, far too faint to be detected, hit the guard's jaw just as he slammed the hilt of his sword into his ribs. The sound reverberated in the silence that had fallen across the manor. There was no mistaking it, and Harland's jaw tightened, gaze pained as he stared at the area he knew would now bruise an ugly shade by the end of the night. That, compounded with the glamoured bruising on his face, would be enough.

It would need to be.

Glancing at the door as he stepped away, Harland squared his shoulders before tugging the guard close, careful as his hands curled around his face. Tongue licking into the seam of his mouth, Harland deepened the kiss for a moment, a promise as good as any he could give here in the quiet, before pulling away.

When he strode through the door a moment later, stalking angrily back through the manor to that damnable door, the guards that encountered him kept well out of his way.

MADDOX:

He didn’t like magic. Maddox felt like he did not say that enough. The smell of it always irritated him and made him anxious. But when Harland made a tiny movement and he caught the scent of glamour only for a second, Maddox thought it might not be the worst thing.

He followed Harland out after a moment, clutching at his rib and muttering to himself. He nearly ran into Mik. Mik smirked. “Not his whore, then? Just a punching bag? Some revenge for Ser Gregor.” Maddox chuckled once, more of a warning than a sound of amusement, before slamming into Mik and mowing the man over until he had him pinned against a wall.

“Ser Gregor was a right cunt, you know that. But I will make his death look clean if you do not learn to hold your tongue. But you have my blessing, see if you can succeed where I failed. I will take great pleasure in picking up your pieces.”

The King reentered the hall, the door swinging shut behind him before anyone could catch a glimpse of Kit. He was smiling in a way that made Maddox positively homicidal.

“Maziac, give my lady a moment before you go to attend her. She is exhausted and will need assistance cleaning up.” Maddox merely nodded, keeping his eyes downcast. “Duke Briar, we continue to be grateful for your hospitality. We will not keep you a moment longer. We look forward to our continued correspondence.”

The King motioned to one of the passing guards, who was immediately at his side and began to escort the King out. Maddox kept a hand on his hilt, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths.

HARLAND:

The Duke glanced up for a moment when Maddox came back into the hall before forcing his eyes away. Oberon came through the door and Harland's eyes looked past him, too, for a second. He barely caught a glimpse of Kit, huddled in the floor on her knees. The hands he had folded at the small of his back tightened around one another, shoulders barely tighter than before. No one would notice but the Duke was brimming with fury.

He could only imagine at what had been done to the woman and, frankly, he did not want to know. But she was in his home, he was caring for her, and he would do everything within his power to get her well.

Even if it meant swallowing down the bile in his throat every time he had to speak to the rat.

Harland did not accompany the King out. He knew the way. No, Harland wanted to see what had been done. What damage had he caused? Sparing a glance at Maddox, the Duke lay a hand on his shoulder, briefly, for there was no one around. He squeezed and then let go, striding through the door that the King had just left, the guard quickly following at his side.

MADDOX/KIT:

“Harland,” Maddox hissed, the warning clear. But Harland paid him no mind. Cursing, Maddox followed him into the room.

TW: manipulation, internalized victim blaming

Kit was staring at her feet, feeling herself flush a dark red. Fear not, kitten. Your shadow can clean you up. It was not a kindness Oberon had extended to her, but an order. She hated these moments where Oberon decided to flaunt how deeply intertwined they are. She knew Oberon was possessive by nature and most days, it did not trouble her. But these were the moments that it troubled her so greatly she could hardly breathe. How many times did Maddox have to prove himself worthy to remain by her side?

She had been so happy to see him first. She had felt like she was whole again. But now-

You cannot afford to follow those thoughts, Kit, she chided herself.

Maddox cleared his throat loudly, far too loudly. Kit looked up at him, startled. When her eyes flitted over to Duke Briar, she felt her neck and chest began to flush. She cast her eyes down, folding her hands in her lap.

Maddox closed the distance between them, kneeling in front of her. Kit felt as if the semen Oberon had left on her chin- why could he not just let her clean herself up honestly why did anyone have to know what happened in their private world- was burning a hole into her.

“Maddox, I am so sorry. His Royal Highness is frustrated by-” Kit began, her voice sounding like she might break into sobs.

“I cannot accept your apologies, my lady. They are not required.” Maddox’s voice was stiff, foreign as he used a kerchief to wipe her chin.

“Maddox,” Kit began again.

“Is that all my lady requires?” Her shadow was made of stone, it appeared. Kit felt herself begin to tremble. It was all too much. She was exhausted and aching and humiliated. She wanted Oberon to take her back to Roheim. Everything was all wrong here.

When Kit could not reply, Maddox merely nodded and left the room. She flinched as the door slammed shut. She stood up on unsteady feet, using the table to assist her. Her dress and robe were a mess but she pulled them tightly around her all the same, tying her waist with a sash so tight she could hardly breathe. She could not bear to look the Duke in the eye. She steeled herself, bracing herself for the insults that were sure to come.

HARLAND:

The Duke kept himself back from the pair, merely studying the situation. He cared not for the color of her shame, the way her chest and face flushed a bright red at it. He cared more for the anger that seemed to consume her guard, the stiffness he had never seen there clearly distancing himself from the situation. It was a coping mechanism he had seen before, had used himself.

At the moment the door slammed shut, Harland wished there were two of him to comfort. He knew it would do no good now but...later, perhaps. But, now, his focus was entirely on the woman that struggled to her feet, pain evident in her movements. Harland's jaw tightened again and he had to loosen the grip he had on his hands; if he had not, the fractures would have screamed.

Walking around the woman as she hugged herself, Harland rummaged through a spare closet. Some of the more simple dresses of his daughter's, ones she never wore, and jackets that were unornamented hung there. From the depths he pulled a worn brown jacket and walked it back over, gesturing with it for her to take.

A small smile graced his lips, a sign for her to know that all was well. He settled down close by but have her her space. A hand ran through his hair and the Duke slumped, tired and strung to his farthest for the evening. Still, he would try.

"What is your favorite flower, my lady? I've something to cheer you up, I believe." Softer, then, he said, "Maddox will be back, Kit. He has had a...difficult evening. It is not you that troubles him."

KIT:

She accepted the jacket with a smile, tugging it over her shoulders with a wince. “Thank you, Your Grace. You are very kind,” Kit said, stumbling over the courtesies clumsily. She tried to use High Fae with the Duke, but she was far too exhausted to try to make sense of the words and their meanings and their absurd sounds. She slipped back into the common tongue almost involuntarily.

“I am not very familiar with flowers, Your Grace. Only the belladonna, I fear.”

Kit looked past the Duke, staring at the door as if she could force it to open and return her shadow to her.

“He has a difficult master. It makes for difficult evenings.” At her words, Kit clapped a hand over her mouth. Stupid, careless girl.

“Forgive me, your Grace...The draughts have- I- I meant nothing by it.”

HARLAND:

Harland accepted her graciousness with a bow of his head, hiding a smile when she slipped in and out of High Fae and, finally, into the Common. "There are no thanks needed, but you are welcome, all the same. We can give you a dress, as well, when you've your strength. Cressida can help you into it if need be." Now that the King had gone, the staff was free to roam their home once more. They were told to give the guards a wide berth, save for Maddox and Kit themselves, and they had.

There was no need for an altercation, and certainly not one that would result in violence. Harland was attempting to minimize that as much as possible these days.

"That is no matter. I am well versed in them." He gave her a crooked smile, then. Though it was tired, it still attempted to lift the mood. Settling with his feet more securely to the floor, the Duke's eyes fell until they were half-closed, almost lazy looking. If he had been anywhere else, with anyone else, he would have appeared to nod off. But, his fingers were twitching, a thread of magic tangible in the air.

From behind her, the tendril of a plant snuck into the middle of the room. Harland manipulated it upright, the bud shimmering in a false-breeze as it unfurled. Though this was not the bloom that belonged, Harland was capable enough where it followed his instructions. The flower was delicate, its petals nearly translucent, seeming to glow in the moonlight that leaked into the room. It sat, stigma and pistils bared to the air, and waited.

"We call it the Queen of the Night, my lady," Harland murmured, a bit more tired now that he had brought something from nothingness. "She fits, I think. And she is yours until the time you leave here. She will not wither though you may pluck her."

Her words reached his ears and Harland stopped, studying her, before nodding his head. "You need not blame the draughts, Kit. It is alright. I'll not speak anything of it. You have my word."

KIT:

Kit watched the Duke in awe, enraptured. Magic was an unfamiliar creature. She knew little of how it worked and had never attempted to develop the skill. She was- had- been renowned for her beauty without the aid of glamour. It had driven her rivals insane.

It was a strange thing to behold, such a large man bringing forth such delicate illusions. But when she reached her hand out, she found it was no such illusion. She could not help but gasp and reached a delicate finger to it. She stroked the petals as gently as a lover.

“She is lovely, Your Grace. I will cherish her.” Kit murmured.

She met the Duke’s eyes for a moment, understanding passing between them like electricity. The nod of her head was so slight it was almost imperceptible but she knew he saw it. She knew he understood.

“Will you bring my shadow joy which such flowers? Or do you have other methods?” Kit asked, testing the waters. They were already more familiar than they had any right to be. The Duke, by all means, should have wanted her dead. He should have been a cruel host. But his tenderness was seemingly infinite. And she knew her shadow like she knew her own soul. Something had changed. There was so much she had missed when she was sedated and burning. She continued before Harland could respond, softly, “I am sure my shadow is grateful for your companionship. He lives a lonely life.” It was all she dared to say, preferring to keep whatever was transpiring unspoken. It was all she could do to show that she, too, would give her word and keep it.

HARLAND:

The gentle gasp that came from the blonde in front of him made Harland's smile grow. It was reasons like those that the Duke did such tricks. If he could bring joy, rather than pain, he would much rather use his magic that way. He had used it for violence, for death and destruction at the hands of a queen, for far too long.

He gave Kit a smile and nodded his head, but did not say what he wanted. The flower was Kit, was it not? He would not tell her that the flower usually died before dawn, that it was a rarity to see. The smile he had put on her face, to make her forget her shame, was enough. The slight nod she gave him at his words was as much of an understanding as they would exchange. There were no words that could describe such things, certainly not in a time like this one.

The Duke was, however, surprised by her next words. Entirely awake now, Harland sat himself up straighter against the back of his chair, assessing the woman before him. He did not know how to find the words, nor if he even could. There was far too much at stake here.

"If they think I am cruel," he murmured, sighing through his nose, and slumping his shoulders a bit. Still, he watched her face. Wanted her to understand the things he could not say. "It is easier. It protects you both behind closed doors. If anything, it affords you something like peace." He looked down, then, eyes sharp on the floor, at where her legs dangled and her feet did not touch. The corner of his mouth turned up, ever so slight, when he conceded: "Though I think your shadow would like a dagger more, flowers are not...unreasonable."

Kit did not know, yet, what he had done. Perhaps he should leave it that way? Or...perhaps not. Rolling up his sleeve, Harland bared the arm that wore a bandage still, tapping a forefinger against it. "He is his own, my lady, but while you are here...I will do what I can. I've taken the lord's rights, and I intend to follow them." He looked up at her, then, hoping she knew what it was he was saying, what he could not say. What had transpired so suddenly was not something Harland knew, not something he was familiar with.

But he was willing to learn.

KIT:

She continued stroking the petals, finding a comfort in its delicate touch. It was made for her. It bloomed for her. It was a wondrous thing and she could not bring herself to tear her eyes from it longer than necessary. Perhaps it was better she was not gazing directly into the Duke’s eyes. Neither of them might have been comfortable with such emotion being on such display.

“I imagine it is no easy task to convince anyone that you are capable of cruelty, Your Grace,” Kit said carefully. The words were slower than necessary. She was treading carefully, not wanting to disturb the peace that the Briar estate provided. “Stern, maybe. You must despise the Unseelie very much- and it must be well known- if your cruelty is believable.” It was a compliment, yes, but there was something sad in her tone. He seemed to be a good man, but even those who seemed good could hate entire people indiscriminately.

At his talk of a dagger, Kit fought very valiantly but ultimately failed to keep a smile from forming on her lips. She kept her eyes on the flower, but could not help but sneak glances at the Duke. It was an exercise in self control to refrain from giggling. “A dagger? What an intimate gift, Your Grace. I am sure he would be appreciative.”

But at the Duke’s next words, her expression became impassive. Her blistered skin remained taut with her lips pressed tightly together.

“One of yours? Or of my beloved’s that necessitated such violence?”

HARLAND:

He watched her as she stroked the petals of the bloom, noticed the way she was entranced by them. In a way, he was glad to know he had not lost the ability. The war had taken so much, but he would not let them have this. Never this, not wholly. They could weaponize him, but they could not make him fire, not now.

Her words were careful and he gave her a small, sad smile. He could hear the sadness, the fact that she well knew of his dislike for her people. Well, he thought, many of them. "Cruelty is a learned behavior, my lady. It...can be emulated. When one has lost his way...the sensations are harder to reimagine, once you have pieced yourself together again but...it is not entirely unthought of. Such is the game we play. Such is the necessity. I do not despise the unwilling. I despise the war and what it made us become. Each man is a monster, they just wear a different face, my lady. We all saw the same violence. The heroes merely changed cloaks."

The words were ones he had known for a long while. He did not hate the Unseelie, not those who had merely followed their families. And, he knew, there had been those. No, Harland hated those who were unnecessarily cruel, who found joy in the death and the despair, who fed from it like it sustained them. He had met many a man like that on the battlefield. In his time as a diplomat, rather than just a field commander, Harland had learned to see the difference.

The Duke heard the tone of her words and smiled, amused. "You would know best, I think, though I am not sure it is entirely as intimate as you are imagining." Despite her quip, he did mean a true dagger. Squirming a bit, Harland reached around to the waist of his trousers and removed the blade from its sheath. It was the same one he had fought with before. He had a nearly identical one in his rooms, its twin. Flipping it so it was hilt out, Harland extended it towards the blonde without a word.

It took him a moment to process what he wanted to say about his wounds. Eventually, he gave a slight shrug. "It is but a mirror image, my lady. I've collected many like them. But yes. It was one of your king's." He would not go into the details. He did not need Kit to know what had, almost undoubtedly, been done to the man.

KIT:

How quickly they flitted between melancholy and peace, the two of them. She felt like a little hummingbird, flying to and fro with pauses as short as a breath between all her emotions. She offered the Duke a small smile in her understands. Her own experience of the war was not one she talked about easily. Especially not to a veteran such as Harland Briar.

“Maddox is not exactly well loved by the other guards,” Kit replied, shutting her eyes briefly. She knew, of course, that it was unlikely another guard raised a sword against Maddox without an order. They had all been bested by Maddox too many times to take on such a herculean task without sufficient motivation. She withdrew her hands from the petals, suddenly aware she was on the verge of crushing one.

Kit took the hilt gingerly, taking care to make her fingers clumsy and her grip appear awkward as she held it. She turned it over carefully, as if she was afraid it would burn her. She went to hold it back out to Duke Briar when she saw the look on his face. Her prepared speech that would beg forgiveness for her ignorance of weaponry died on her lips.

HARLAND:

Harland’s eyes flickered to her face as she spoke, noticing the way she withdrew her hand from the flower. The petal she had been toying with was crumpled but no worse for wear, otherwise. He recognized that she did not speak on her experience of the war and, for that, the Duke was grateful. He knew it was incredibly different than his own, especially as tied to the king as it was. It made him wonder, truly, what she had seen.

Oberon claimed she knew nothing of war, was naive to its death and its pain, but Harland had seen the blood on her dress, too high up to be her own. It was no easy task to harm Balthazar Black, yet this supposedly frail woman had. It made him wonder how many secrets she kept from her king and, if she did, who she kept them with. If he had to guess, the Duke would think it was her shadow.

Speaking of Maddox…

“I am unsurprised, unfortunately,” Harland grimaced a bit but, then, had to hide a small, amused smile. “He’s rather hard to phase, though I’m sure you know such things. A bit of a stone wall, really.” When she took the dagger from him, The Duke’s brows raised into his hairline, sweeping over her posture and noting how it was deliberately loose. He had seen the way Kit sat, how she held herself. Even injured, she was prim and proper. The awkwardness she held the weapon was put upon and, clearly, she needed to work on such lies.

“With all due respect, my lady, if you are going to lie to me I would ask that you make it convincing.” He held up a hand, an amused smile on his face, but not angry. “You forget I carried you here. I saw the blood on your clothing and the blood on the ground. If you need to keep that hidden, by all means, but do not take me for a fool. I trained many of the soldiers under my command myself. I know when someone does or does not know how to wield a blade.”

KIT:

“A mountain,” Kit corrected him. “All of Midsummer could burn and I am sure my shadow would remain. He cannot fall any more than a mountain could melt into the earth.” There was no trace of arrogance or pride in her voice, only the firmness of her belief. She knew well the weakness of the fae and was convinced that only Maddox was immune. He seemed to rise above mortal emotions or needs time and time again.

It was likely why he survived so long. In truth, she could not think of a single member of the King’s immediate household employ that had survived both the war and their king’s reign. Her beloved was quick to judgment and many a good servant or guard had fallen to his paranoia.

Kit frowned, but there was an involuntary twitch of the corner of the mouth that told the Duke she was as equally surprised to have been found out as she was pleased to have been complimented. She adjusted her grip and nodded.

“I fear you will ruin me, Duke Briar. A woman needs secrets like armor. Here I am deprived of both in such foreign territory.” Kit said, but her tone was light.

“I have found that usually, the bulk of the deception falls unto others. No reason to hide what others do not wish to see.” Kit continued, thinking carefully as she turned the blade over once more before allowing Harland to grip the hilt. “It is a fine blade, Your Grace.”

HARLAND:

“And yet you tell this to a faerie who has moved a mountain.” Harland meant nothing by the words. In fact, the irony was amusing, as was plain to see on the Duke’s face. He had no doubt Kit was right in her convictions; Maddox had been nothing but her support and her strength through the war, before and beyond, and it was clear to see in anything the pair did. There was a trust there that extended beyond the blonde’s faith in her king, something that meant where Oberon failed, Maddox did not.

The guard’s role in Kit’s life was immeasurable. It made Harland wonder how Maddox had lived so long against the Unseelie monarch’s jealousies.

“Armor can be concealed behind words just as easily as it can be worn out in the open, my lady. The trick is to learn how to control both.” He nodded in approval when she adjusted her grip, leaning back slightly into the seat. He’d rolled his sleeve down as she spoke, once more hiding the bandaging from view. His mind turned to the wounds Maddox had inflicted on himself and his face turned grim for a moment before shoving the thought away. The fact that they’d needed them at all was proof enough of the care they needed to take.

The game was dangerous, but it was worth what came from it, in the end.

He took the blade back and murmured his thanks quietly, thumb running over the serrated edges for a moment before tucking it safely away. “It carried me through the war. It is my hope that it will not need to carry me through another, but I would be...honored if Maddox would accept it.” The words were quiet, a tad sheepish, and he really didn’t know what to do with himself for having said them, but they hung between he and Kit now, out in the open.

KIT:

“Are you certain of that, Duke Briar? Perhaps you were moved as well.” Kit said, her blue eyes locked onto his own. There was nothing unkind in her gaze, but there was a sense of searching. After a few moments, a slight relaxation of her eyes signaled acceptance, at the very least, if not outright approval. No matter how kind the Duke seemed nor how welcoming his estate, there were still banners that divided them. She had her fair share of doomed loves and wanted no such thing for her shadow.

But as the Duke spoke, she realized it was far too late. Whatever had transpired as she lay half dead to the world had forever altered them all. Maddox was not the same man she remembered from the last time she saw him and even the Duke seemed different. Granted, her first encounter of the Duke was marred by flashes of blinding pain and heat and was thus unreliable.

She knew what love looked like. It had so many different forms, but for all its changing faces it could not hide. Based on the Duke’s words, she was not sure it wanted to hide, no matter how damaging its revelation would be.

She reached out, placing a hand on his. She brushed her thumb over his knuckles, speaking so softly she was barely audible. If they wanted, they could pretend she had never said anything at all.

“He will. You should go to him.” Bring him back was the unspoken request.

HARLAND:

The Duke’s eyes snapped to hers at the blonde’s words, all the air rushing out of him in a single breath. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, then, something that he knew she could see, that he could not help her seeing no matter how much he hid it. He had no idea what he was doing, had no fathomable understanding of even attempting to. All he knew was that it had been a spark that had caught, ignited into something like a flame. He wanted to burn in it as much as he knew he should douse it. He knew it...and yet he could not bring himself to.

“Perhaps as much as a mountain can move the Erthe. Or, at the very least, shape it,” he whispered. He dropped her gaze then, toying with the hem of his tunic. It was a habit of his, born from nervousness and an abundance of pent up energy, but here it was a distraction from his thoughts. Thoughts, Harland knew, he should not be having. Yet he did. And he was not miserable for them, though he was ashamed to think that, perhaps, there were people who believed he should be. Balthazar, for one, had he known. His father, for another.

Her touch startled him and, just as he had earlier in the day, the Duke flinched at the softness of it. His fingers flexed beneath her hand, gripping harshly to a knee to still them, head ducked so she could not see his eyes. He breathed in, once, and then out. Did it again, hoping to quell the surge of...something in his breast. He did not want to leave herm knew with a quiet certainty that Maddox would probably be very royally pissed if he did. But he wanted-

He wanted.

“I am sure it is near supper,” he murmured at least, gently moving her hand from his. He stood, eyes searching her face, the corner of his mouth upturned by a hairsbreadth, and gave her a short nod. “I will return shortly with the news of its progress.” He bowed his head, a silent form of thanks, before turning on his heel and striding from the room, barking out orders to the guards to keep clear of the chamber unless requested

KIT/MADDOX:

She watched him leave, something between a grimace and a smile on her face. Whatever they had stumbled into- or rather what she had started by seeking out Balthazar- had long spiraled out of their control. All they could do know was hold and hope the aftermath would not be as horrible as they expected.

Maddox was in the stables. It was the only place he could ensure the King was truly gone.

He howled as he struck against the post with his fists over and over again, until the wood began to splinter and his skin was tearing. It hurt less to beat himself bloody than it was to think of-

No, do not.

Whatever was transpiring between himself and the Duke was stirring up emotions he had buried long ago. Or perhaps it was the fact that Kit- with her blazing eyes and infectious laughter- was fighting for her life and he had been powerless to aid her.

HARLAND:

It took the Duke very little time to find the other guard.

He just followed the howling.

It didn’t help that he’d run into Egan, either, anger and disapproval clear on the Halfling’s face. He and the lord had gone a round early into Kit’s recovery, argued over the presence of the Unseelie pair, the danger they possessed for everyone involved. Egan could always see straight through him; Harland also knew it was more than mere professional concern. He and the groom were friends, had been for a long while, even taking into account their stations. He knew it was worry that drove the man, but the disapproval still stung.

But, he didn’t speak anything of it now. Instead, Egan waved him away angrily, cursing the man out under his breath as he stalked away. Harland looked up for a moment, sucked in a breath and let it out. There was something to be said for the infinite patience he possessed; it seemed to be tried at every turn, these days.

The sight that greeted him as he pushed the stable doors open with a shoulder made the Duke’s eyes widen and his hands ache. Stepping in through the door, Harland shut it quietly behind him, moving forward quietly so he didn’t startle the man. He said his name, quiet, concerned, and waited.

MADDOX:

It was a testament to how deeply he already cared for the other fae that he did not pull his sword and began to tear the post to pieces. He wanted to cut something down. But he heard his name, as soft as a whisper and turned towards its source.

There was Harland Briar, standing at the stable doors looking at him as if someone was stabbing him. Maddox exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow. He could not pretend to be fine- his heaving shoulders and trembling hands took that option away.

“It’s almost worse here. At least in Roheim, I know to react means to lose my head. But to be here-” Maddox cursed.

“Perhaps the humans are right. Perhaps free will is a cruel gift.”

HARLAND:

When Maddox turned towards him, Harland breathed out a heavy gust of wind, shoulders falling ever so slightly. Like the other faerie, there were many things that had built upon his shoulders. There were days where he felt like he would be crushed beneath the weight of it all. He could not possibly imagine, truly, what it was that had piled onto Maddox’s shoulders in the years he had been under the king’s employ. But, perhaps, there was a way he could help ease it.

If not that then he could listen.

So, the Duke came forward, his advance slow, steps measured and even. He watched Maddox’s face the entire time, took in the tremble in his hands and the heaving of his shoulders, and recognized the pain as easily as his own.

“Free will is about as fickle as anything, I think, regardless of who possess it,” Harland agreed, coming closer as he spoke, voice pitched quiet like he was soothing a startled animal. In some ways he was, though there was far more behind it than that. “But bottling everything up only makes the fall harder, in the end. Believe me,” he said, a slight smile on his face, “I know.”

MADDOX:

“It will be my job to deliver her back into the lion’s den,” Maddox croaked. He stepped towards Harland.

“This is the first time in at least a century I have seen her more than an hour’s ride of the King,” Maddox whispered. “She was nearly killed but she blooms here regardless. I do not think she even realizes.”

Maddox shook his head as if he could clear all of his negative thoughts. He closed the distance between himself and Harland, still shaking. He wanted so badly to wrap himself up in Harland. He wanted to forget everything that bothered him. But he could not afford to keep falling apart. Not when Kit’s life hung in the balance. Not when there were so many enemies surrounded them.

“You and I both know I have no choice.” Maddox sighed, running his bruised and bloody hands throughout his hair.

“What do we do now?”

HARLAND:

"It will be your job to make sure she stays safe while she's there. As safe as she can possibly be, given the circumstances." It was a hard fact, a bitter thing to swallow, but it was fact all the same. Harland knew it just as surely as Maddox himself must. But he knew the guard blamed himself for many things, if not now then surely from the past that had led them to this point.

Maddox shook his head to clear it and Harland gave a sad laugh. He shook his head. "No, I do not think she does." Truth be told, Harland did not know if she ever would, or if Kit would continue to live in her denial. He had heard her remarks, knew that she saw the things Oberon did, but she was blinded by the care she held for him, however that may have been garnered. But she had a care for Maddox, too, and it drove them both forward.

The guard closed the distance and Harland stepped forward to meet him, a hand curling gently around a bicep to tug him in, the other sliding up beneath a hand that raked at his scalp. He made a noise when he examined the knuckles, ran a thumb carefully over the wounds, but didn't say a word about them. He had known men who did far worse to themselves to cope.

He had been lucky to run away when he could, though Harland supposed some of those reckless tendencies still remained.

He hummed a bit at the back of his throat, angling his head so he could look down at Maddox's face from such a close distance. "You've been given choice in my home, Maddox. React however you need to. I, of all fae, should not judge."

MADDOX:

Maddox nodded, He let himself relax into Harland’s embrace. He would give himself these few moments to forget himself. He would allow himself to rest in Harland’s arms. He was still trembling, violent urges and other dark emotions urging him forward. But Maddox remained still.

He matched his breathing to Harland’s, steadying himself. But as he calmed himself, he found himself developing tunnel vision. He had been keeping himself alive for a century by motivating himself by two things- that the Nighthawks needed him and that Kit needed him. He was not here to fall in love with a Seelie Duke. He was here to protect his charge- who was his dearest friend.Caring for himself felt like a luxury he could not afford. Embracing a Duke felt like an indulgence.

“Even with your blessing, you and I both know there is too much at stake. I should not have left her alone.” Maddox said. He placed a hand on Harland’s cheek.

“One day, I hope we will be able to cast aside our burdens and have no need to return to them. But not today.” Maddox said, sadly.

HARLAND:

As Maddox began to relax into his arms, Harland curled around him, bringing his other arm up to wrap loosely around the guard’s hip. If he needed to move, he could, and the Duke would let him. He was not trying to trap him, just to offer something steady to lean on. The Duke bowed his head, nose pressing into the hair on top of Maddox’s head, and kept his breathing steady. Soon, he could hear a response in the other faerie and he smiled, nodded a wordless form of encouragement. Nevertheless, he was still trembling.

Sliding the hand that had rested on his forearm down, Harland tucked it into his side, careful as his thumb found the other man’s ribs and rubbed circles into the flesh beneath his clothing, curling closer as he shifted his hold. There was a spiral to fall down, here, and he knew it well. So, when he spoke, the words were soft. “Your lady is fine for the time being, enough for you to collect yourself. A few moment’s time will not harm her, or you. No guard will enter that room, not while this is still my home.”

Harland knew at least that was true. The Avens’ guards might be inconspicuous but they had all witnessed what the Duke would do to those who defied his orders and they believed what they had seen of Maddox, as much as that sat poorly with him. The Duke smiled slightly, face tilting into Maddox’s palm and pressing his lips to it, eyes never leaving the other man’s face. “One day, perhaps, our burdens will not keep us going. Perhaps we just...will.”

MADDOX:

Maddox sighed. He would have given anything to stay there forever. To take him up on his offer and just collect himself fully. But it was not in his nature to do anything the easy way. He gave the Duke a small, sad smile and pulled away.

“I should not have stormed out like that. I know better than to allow my emotions to get the best of me.” Or at least I used to. Maddox took another deep, steadying breath.

“I know you want to give me a place to rest. But my place- my duty is not here.” Maddox continued. “If roles were reversed, you would be at your post. I need to be at mine.”

It was no easy task to move away from the Duke, especially not when everything about him was so inviting. All the same, Maddox took a step towards the stable doors.

“Perhaps,” Maddox said, “and maybe on that day we will celebrate King Aven’s arrival.”

HARLAND:

Maddox sighed and pulled away and, as he had told himself he would, Harland let him. It would have been better if they’d had all the time in the world if they’d been able to forget the pains that had hurt them, the pains that had marked them, if only for a moment. Bargaining for more than that was like stitching a wound, far too messy and almost unpleasant if the situation could not accommodate for it.

Shaking his head, the Duke swept a hand through his hair, down his face. Peeking at him from between his fingers, Harland snorted, quietly and bowed his head. He heaved a sigh, just once, and then shook his head. “If I was meant to be at my post then why am I here,” he murmured, eyes studying the other man’s face for a moment before looking away. He stepped back a moment later, moved a bit to the side to allow Maddox to move towards the doors. “I told Kit we would join her for dinner or, at the very least, that you would.”

The remark made Harland laugh, even if it was a small thing, sad though it may have been.

MADDOX:

“Well then, I would hate to keep a lady waiting,” Maddox said. He wished he had the words to express how much these small gestures meant to him. The simple way there was no resistance when he broke away or how immediately the fae was at his side validated him. It was a source of support that he was unaccustomed to.

“It should be all of us,” Maddox replied. He could not bear the thought of eating dinner alone with Kit no more than he could bear the idea of parting with the Duke. They had been at each other’s sides constantly since he first arrived at the Briar estate. He had a shadow of his own now.

HARLAND:

The small, crooked smile that curled up the corner of his mouth could have cleared away a fog. Though he could still see that there were things that the guard was clearly struggling against, he was trying to keep himself together, for himself and for Kit. The voice was nearly the same, but there was still a waiver, something not entirely right with the way he was acting. Yet Maddox was trying, and that would be enough for Harland, for now.

Surprised at the words but...touched all the same, Harland gave a small nod, an acknowledgment of the reply as much as it was of what lay beneath it. “Well, then, perhaps we should clean your hands. I am sure your lady does not need to be reminded of your coping mechanisms, just like she does not need to learn mine.” It was not a criticism, merely a comment. He made to open the stable door wider but raised a brow in question, all the same.

MADDOX / KIT:

He snorted. “You mean to tell me she has not already figured it out?” Maddox raised an eyebrow. “Here I thought you might be the first Sidhe to refrain from estimating her.” But still, as they walked back towards the great hall he stopped and found himself a clean cloth to wipe his hands with. It was a comfortable silence between them and for that Maddox was grateful.

As they entered the great hall, they found Kit happily seated on the ground with two children. She was in clothes that complimented her with the pale tones, clearly on loan from the Briar Estate. As they drew nearer, they realized that neither Kit nor the children paid any mind to the two fae entering. Kit was braiding Cressida’s hair, her fingers moving far quickly and confidently that anyone would have expected.

“Why then, the dragon let out a great roar,” Kit said, her eyes widening for effect as she looked at Calix. Cressida went to shake her head in disbelief and Kit tugged on her hair- gently- as if to remind her that she was still working. Cressida and Calix could not help but laugh.

“And while he opened his great jaws- his teeth smelling of rot and spoiled meat- I threw my sword with all my might into his eye.” Calix gasped and Kit nodded her head in response. She finished with Cressida, the girl’s hair pulled into an intricately braided bun that rested at the nape of her neck. Even with Kit’s hands removed from her head, Cressida did not leave her side.

“So the dragon died?” Kit shook her head and Calix groaned.

“No. But I do not think he will try to come for my jewels anytime soon.”

Kit turned her head and rose immediately when she realized Maddox and Harland had reappeared.

“Forgive me, Your Grace. These two charming members of your household were kind enough to help me pass the time as dinner was prepared. Perhaps you could forgive any duties they may have neglected while keeping me company?”

With this, she leaned into Calix’s ear and whispered in a less than quiet voice. “I always thought chores were the dullest thing in all of Midsummer.”

HARLAND:

"Yours...perhaps. Mine? She just might, depending on what happens in the month's time she is here. I do not underestimate a woman who can get a shot in on Balthazar Black." He crooked up a smile, waving a hand at the guard when he looked at him sharply. "You need not worry, Maddox. I know enough to keep silent. And yet I wonder who taught her, hm?" The mischievous grin Harland shot the guard's way was enough to lift the last of the fog that had settled over them.

As they made their way into the great hall, Harland leaned against the wall near the door, listening in quiet contemplation. Even with his arms folded over his chest, however, the look on his face was one of interest. Twitching his fingers where they rested on his arm, Harland let a tendril of glamour magic loose, a miniature dragon swooping in on large, black wings. Just as Kit had suggested, it had one eye.

Harland knew who she was speaking of, even if he would not acknowledge it. For the time being, it would be a little boy's bedtime tale.

The glamoured dragon gave a quiet roar as it wheeled around between the children and the woman on the floor, Harland's grin growing as the little boy's eyes became the size of saucers. His older sister caught the look on first her brother's face and, then, the lord's and shook her head, smiling at the wonder that Harland had caused.

The dragon faded along with Kit's story and Harland straightened, brow arching when he heard Kit apologize for their company. Shaking his head, the Duke waved her apologies away. Instead, he turned an eye to the siblings. Only the younger one looked sheepish. "It's quite alright, my lady. They're not in trouble. Even though Calix should be sleeping. Cressida is free for the evening. Though I'm sure she appreciates the marvelous braid you've given her."

The young girl looked up at Harland with wide eyes, a small, guilty smile on her face. Turning, Cressida thanked the blonde quietly before rising to her feet. She walked over to Harland and went to speak, eyeing Maddox hesitantly, but stopped when she saw his arm. The bandages were exposed. Wide-eyed, Cressida's small fingers reached out towards the Duke before thinking better of it. Instead, she looked up into his face, anger and worry laced in her gaze. Harland merely gave her a smile, nodding his head towards the door. She stared at him, suspicious, before sighing and calling for her brother. Calix jumped up, wiggling carefully from Kit's side, and followed her out with a cheerful good night, none the wiser to what had transpired between his sister and the Sidhe.

Harland made sure they were gone before speaking up, running a hand across his jaw as he did. "Forgive me, my lady. The children do not get many visitors. They have had...a difficult life." He turned to Maddox, gave an apologetic smile. "Cress...she is remise to trust, unlike her brother."

MADDOX / KIT:

“They must be a clever bastard to have slipped past both the King and myself,” Maddox replied, returning the fae’s grin. He decided then in the great hall that he might never have such a happy moment. Despite all that had happened, Kit looked whole. She looked vibrant as she told a much kinder version of how she acquired her burns. Harland began to conjure things- which sent chills down his spine- but he could not deny the wonder in the children’s eyes.

Kit, to her credit, was unfazed by the illusion’s appearance. She continued on as if she had been planning such an event the whole time. When the children departed, she was careful to throw Calix a wink before she went on. The girl seemed far too serious for one so young but she supposed human children had no other choice.

Kit waved away Harland’s apology. “There is no need to apologize for children. They are lovely in spite of whatever ugliness befell them.” Kit placed a hand on the chair, a poor attempt to subtly support herself. She looked as if she had run from Roheim and back. Her skin was pale and beads of sweat clung to her forehead, but she still managed to smile at them both as if nothing was wrong.

Maddox remained tight-lipped. Fear and suspicion were usually in the eyes of those who stared at him and it had long since stopped bothering him. But now that the children had departed and a majority of the servants had run along, it was just the three of them. He did not know where to begin. Today was truly the first day that Kit had been coherent for any amount of time- even then only because the Unseelie physician insisted on weaning her from her draughts so she could be alert for the King’s visit.

If they had been in Roheim, there would be no possibility of discussion. But here, they were freer than before. Maddox had a million thoughts swirling in his mind. He wanted to share them with both Kit and Harland, but instead, he remained silent.

HARLAND:

Catching the disgruntled look on the guard’s face as the conjuring faded away, Harland cocked a brow to the side, asking a silent question. When Maddox didn’t say a word, the Duke resolved to file it away to ask for another time. He had seen the way that Kit interacted with the children and did not marvel at it but, rather, tucked that away too. She liked children or, at the very least, enjoyed telling tales. It was a rather...endearing quality in someone that had been touched by so much cruelty in her life, by someone who loved a faerie that was as cruel as he was. Harland had oft wondered since her recovery began what Kit Scarlet had been like before the war, before she’d met Oberon Aven and had been whisked away to be Midsummer’s worst kept secret.

Still, she looked happier, now. Tired, yes, and certainly pained. But happy.

“Quite a lot, I am afraid.” He replied, voice dropping to a low pitch so the words did not carry any further than the three of them. He was hesitant to provide any information on their backgrounds, as much as he wanted to believe Maddox nor Kit would see any harm done to them. The rest of the Unseelie in his home were not so...able to earn his trust with such a matter. It would be best not to speak of it at all. “The war displaced them and I took them in.”

Rounding the corner of the table, Harland casually offered an arm to the woman as she gripped the back of her chair with fierce little hands, a small smile lighting up his eyes for but a moment. He gestured for Maddox to sit and, when he had and Kit was situated in her place, Harland sat last. Zinnia had already brought the food out, had done so while the children had scampered off, so they were, the three of them, alone for the first time since the pair’s arrival at Thornhill.

Pouring himself a few fingers of whiskey, Harland offered the bottle to them both with a gesture. He made a mental note to thank the cook for the food she’d given them. Harland’s quiet request for something that would bring Kit’s vigor back after her...exertion for the day had been met tenfold.

KIT/ MADDOX:

As in perfect synchronization, both Kit and Maddox nodded at the Duke’s word. Neither of them asked any more questions.

It was a lovely, far more extensive than necessary for such a small party. Maddox looked around uneasily. While of course, he agreed to dinner just moments before, he realized he had never dined with Kit and someone else. At times, they are together but usually if Kit has company he was to be at his post.

As Harland helped her to the table, Kit returned his smile. “You must tell your staff how grateful I am. It looks wonderful.” It was silent then for a moment, with tension running like an undercurrent, but it was not unbearable.

When Harland offered the bottle, Kit reached for it.

“Kit, perhaps-“ Maddox began but then stopped as she glared at him.

“Hush, Maddox. I think I have earned myself a drink.” He paused for a moment as if deciding whether or not it was worth it to fight her on this. In the end, he elected to let it go. Satisfied and smiling to herself, Kit took her fill pouring herself a generous amount before passing the bottle to Maddox.

“So,” she began, in a voice filled with a cheer she did not truly feel, “you all know what I have been up to every moment since I first arrived. Perhaps you might fill me in on what I missed?”

HARLAND:

Watching as the pair settled into their seats, Harland noticed the discomfort the guard displayed, brow furrowing for a moment as he wondered at it. Tuning back into the blonde's words, the Duke inclined his head, a small shrug following the action. "I shall pass the praise along. I hope Zinnia made the food to expectation." He paused, an almost sheepish look taking over his features before he cleared his throat and tried again."I inquired after food you and Maddox would be accustomed to from Belladonna. Many of the dishes are similar to ours, with little variation to different regional tastes."

His fingers toyed with a utensil for a moment, eyes not looking at either the woman or the guard seated across from him.

When the bottle was removed from his hands, Harland cut his eyes back towards the pair, watching passively as their little tiff ironed itself out, a small quirk of his lips indicating he was listening even if he appeared not to be. Maddox was only doing what he believed to be in Kit's interest but she deserved even the smallest reprieve from her pain.

The false cheer immediately set him on guard, however, and the Duke turned a critical eye to the woman at his side. Brows raising into his hairline at the inquiry, Harland refused to look over at Maddox. It would give her far too much satisfaction. Instead, he smiled, a bright thing, and said "a drinking game, my lady. And a lesson. Nothing more."

KIT/ MADDOX:

“It is lovely, Your Grace.” Kit said. Maddox’s glance to Harland- one was like the look someone gives their old home- said more than any of his courtesies could. Kit attempted to eat- it was clear she was hungry- but it was also equally clear that even the effort of eating exhausted her. She was more likely to reach for her drink than her utensils. Maddox, on the other hand, seemed oddly comfortable at such formal dining despite the years since he had been allowed to partake in an event.

Kit laughed aloud at Harland’s reply. “But of course, Your Grace. And Duke Black and I were just having a friendly sparring match,” she said, matching his bright tone. Maddox nearly choked, beating his chest with a fist for a moment. Kit continued on, seemingly unaware, though the slight smirk on her face demonstrated the opposite.

“Am I allowed to participate in such games? Or is this a game reserved for soldiers?” Kit continued.

HARLAND:

Rather than choke as her shadow had, Harland merely chuckled. "I suppose you could call it that, yes. Though, really it was hardly a lesson. The poor bastard was sloppy. Spoon fed." The disdain in his voice was clear, as was the way his gaze darkened for a moment, eyes flickering to Maddox for the briefest of seconds, having caught the glance thrown his way. It still rankled him, the way Ser Gregor had acted. Not because he had disrespected Harland, no. That was easily corrected. No, it had been the way he had so easily been able to turn on his own comrades.

Where Harland came from, they were yours. Your family and your blood. You gave up yours for them, died for them. If your Queen asked you to kill them there better be a damn well good reason for it.

The Duke stabbed his fork a tad more harshly into his food than intended and he grimaced, a quiet apology falling from his lips. Sucking in a breath Harland said, "We spoke of the war, Kit, as old soldiers do. But, no, it is not reserved for us."

He almost expected the look on her face, one similar to a cat that had gotten the bird, the cream, and all the rest. It was still disconcerting, however, when it was directed at him. Such a knowing look, and the Duke felt like it pierced him straight through. "Ask what you would like, my lady. I'll answer, if I can."

It was a show of good faith, he knew, and he wanted to see what Kit would do with it.

KIT/ MADDOX:

Maddox picked up his glass, drinking deeply. It was so easy to slip back into the old habit of observing. He watched the irritation flicker across the Duke’s face and the way his fork momentarily became a weapon and did not avert his gaze. Maddox could not help but stare at the man, amazed. What did he still believe in that Ser Gregor’s actions surprised him? Ser Gregor may have acted with unnecessary vigor, but most in the King’s employ knew it was better to be seen as over-eager to serve rather than hesitant.

Kit placed a hand on Maddox’s. “Dear shadow, remind me of the rules. I would hate to be underprepared to play against such fearsome fae like yourself and the Duke.” Maddox rolled his eyes.

“Guess correctly, they drink. Guess incorrectly, you drink.” Kit squeezed his hand, sighing as if she was resigning herself to something tedious.

“Well given I play with both my shadow and a man who brought me into his estate naked, I fear I do not possess much of an advantage. Pity,” Kit said, her voice filling out as she seemed to pick up energy. The prospect of a game seemed to revitalize her far more than the food did. She made a show of placing a hand on her chin, studying Harland with a seriousness as theatrical as it was sincere.

“I have heard you had to teach such a lesson in defense of a new love of yours, Duke Briar.”

HARLAND:

"A knight is sworn to Valor, his heart knows only Virtue. His temper shall be held by patience. He will aid those who seek it and ask for aid when needed." The words flowed from Harland's mouth easily, the pieces memorized early on in his time as a knight. His forefinger drew a circle around the rim of his glass before he drank, eyes catching and holding the guard's. Turning, the Duke addressed Kit, a stoicism in his face that indicated he meant every word. "Where I come from, there is more to a guard than merely standing beside his monarch. There is honor in what he does and that honor connects you to your brothers and sisters in arms. When it is lost, when you would turn your back on your brother for nothing more than a token of praise, there is no honor left in you."

He picked up his glass and drank deeply, his words hanging in the air between them all.

"There is a part of me that thinks you enjoy playing with fire, my lady." The words were said with no malice, nothing meant by them, but Harland raised a brow at Kit's actions regardless. He reached across the table and took the bottle from Maddox, refilling his glass a substantial degree more than it had previously held. He had a feeling he would need it.

"But I suppose it comes with the territory. The lesson was well-earned, Kit. I would have done it regardless." He sipped at his drink, studying her, before continuing on. He would not mince words with her. She did not need it. "There is far more my rights as a liege lord can do for you both than they cannot, one of which includes offering Maddox a protection he will not have otherwise. There are many in Wisteria who would want him dead, you included. My sigil protects you both, as does my position on the Council. It is the least I could do."

There was far more that could be said, should be said, but he did not wish to air it out here over dinner. It was far too damming already.

KIT/ MADDOX:

Maddox stiffened as Harland spoke, turning his eyes to his plate. Kit’s question alone would have been enough cause to keep his gaze downcast for the next century, but speaking of virtues and protection filled him a shame that seemed to choke him. What business did a spy like him, a sellsword like him, have to such devotion? To such honor?

Kit’s eyes never left Harland's, weighing him carefully. She had heard pretty words from pretty lips before, but it was something in the Duke’s eyes that softened her. She reached a hand towards Maddox, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. It was a simple enough gesture, but it was done almost reflexively.

If Maddox had looked up, he would have seen that Kit was looking at Harland with a mixture of gratitude and approval. He might have been relieved to see for all of her bluntness and ferocity, she seemed to have calculated the cost of the stakes and still held a fondness for whatever had blossomed while she lay comatose to the world. But Madox’s gaze remained firmly on the ground, as if he could simply listen in without partaking.

Kit smiled. “Perhaps you enjoy dancing with the flames as well, Your Grace.”

HARLAND:

The Duke held the small woman's gaze, evenly. Knew he was being assessed and allowed her to continue at it. He knew the ways they were intertwined, could see It as much as he could guess at it. He saw the way Maddox stiffened at his words but he had continued on. If anything, the actions the other man had taken for Kit proved that he was more worthy of such vows than some Harland had known in his time.

Eyes flickering to the finger drug across the other faerie's knuckles, Harland cataloged that gesture away for another time. There was a familiarity there that spoke to so much between the two, a comfort that did not exist outside of them. Not even with the King. It was...intriguing. As intriguing as it was potentially damning.

Yet, again, Kit's bluntness did not shock him. Harland laughed, a tinge bitter, and moved a hand to his throat, drawing a finger down the thick scarring that wrapped around his neck. "Some would say more than most, my lady. But I suppose I was never able to stop."

Turning away from the woman, then, Harland studied the faerie across from him, taking in the war he removed himself from the conversation, cast his eyes down and looked away. There were many things he did not know about Maddox Maziac but the ability to, truly, become a shadow was plain for all to see. So, when Harland next spoke it was only to him, and in Owain, though he hardly believed Kit did not understand.

"Many of us do, after all. Might even run in my family, though I'd hardly be surprised, given the rumors about my mother. Maddox, what's your guess? You must have more you want to know."

KIT/ MADDOX:

Maddox looked up, seeming surprised to have been addressed. He turned his face to Kit, who returned his gaze with a soft smile. Then, Maddox fiddled with his utensils for a moment. It was harder to hide the fondness between the two men here in front of Kit, who always seemed to divine exactly what was in a man’s heart. Kit may have claimed to be at a disadvantage, but it was Maddox who felt truly vulnerable.

“You carve trinkets for the human children in your care. You spend many nights fretting over them. You cherish them and wish to preserve them. The trinkets, you carve, of course.” Maddox replied, the implication anything but. Kit leaned back in her chair, so that she could observe both men without having to turn her head.

Information about wood carving surprised Kit, but in truth, she was surprised Maddox would waste a guess on something so visible. The practiced indifference Harland donned whenever company was near his staff spoke volumes. It was clear in his praise of the cook and in the way he seemed to send the children as far away from Unseelie eyes as possible.

HARLAND:

A soft smile curled around Harland's mouth, as unhelped as anything could be in a time like this. The Duke leaned back in his chair for a moment, studying the other faerie, before nodding and drinking. Unbuttoning his coat pocket, Harland withdrew and intricately done whale, from his time in Shark clan territory.

Holding it out for a moment, the blond studied the piece, running a finger over its curves to ensure there were no stray edges. Then, he placed it on the table in front of Maddox. A second, a bear, he placed in front of Kit.

"Not just for the children, but yes. Ask Calix. He has plenty of them. And...there are many reasons I would protect them. For one, they are children and, for another, they have seen far too much in their lives. The least I can do is offer them someplace to hide away from it all." Harland tapped his fingertips against the side of his glass, pondering his own question.

Finally, he turned to Kit once more. The shrug he gave her was almost helpless, a small thing and boyish in its movement. "You care for children, my lady. It does not matter who they are, nor their parentage. You are fond of them all the same." Harland shot her a small smile and raised his glass in a bit of a toast, sipping from his drink.

KIT/ MADDOX:

Maddox took the whale with one hand, running his thumb over it. If he closed his eyes, he could smell the sea and hear the songs of his people. He was overcome with longing for home and for the man who gave him this gift.

Kit picked up the bear, turning it over in her hands. She liked to hear the way Owain sounded on their tongues. It was as if they created their own refuge away from everything else. She felt safe. It was evident in the way she carried herself and the glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

Kit raised her glass in response before drinking. “When the Prince was born, it was the happiest day of my life. There are not many children in the castle. When he laughs, I am almost convinced there is no evil in this world.” She spoke with a tenderness that only a mother could feel.

She turned to Maddox then. She leaned in at the edge of her seat, their faces inches away from each other as she studied him, a playful smile on her face. She held it for a moment before leaning back into her seat and nodding.

“You would trade your sword for a spear in a heartbeat if you could.” Kit seemed pleased with herself, as if she had divined a secret. But Maddox only frowned, pushing her glass towards her.

“My place is at your side, my lady,” Maddox said, shaking his head. “I will see the sea again when I meet my makers and not before.”

Kit looked stricken, her hand shaking as she took a sip from her glass.

HARLAND:

Harland watched as they examined the trinkets. There was a certain sadness on Maddox's face, a longing there he had not seen before. It was something Harland himself understood, though in a different sense. He longed for the sea just as much as he longed for the Wildlands. They were a place of peace for him. To Maddox, they had been home, once.

The Duke tore his eyes away to watch the blonde as she drank and spoke, a small, thin smile on his face. The birth of the Prince was just another nail in the coffin of Midsummer. But he was a child. Children had no say who their parents were, not even if they are chosen by them. Harland bid him no ill will, despite who his father was.

He was hardly surprised his guess had been correct.

Turning to look at the guard once more, Harland's heart skipped when he denied her guess. The Duke shook his head, a small sad smile on his face.

"You can both see the sea, my lady. When you are better suited for travel, I will escort you both." The Owain he spoke now was differently accented, that which Maddox's father would speak. It was as much a promise as it was a declaration. He would not let the guard keep his roots buried, not when it meant it would bury a part of himself, and certainly not for him or for Kit.

"You would like to see the sea, my lady, as much for your guard as you would yourself. I do not blame you. It is said to have healing properties. I suppose I can attest to that." He gave a small toast before sipping from his glass.

KIT/MADDOX:

Maddox swallowed hard as he watched Kit. Once again, he found himself walking a dangerous line. Only this time it was with Kit Scarlet. Which was more damning, he wondered, a Seelie Duke or an Unseelie King’s mistress?

Kit stared back. Without hair or even eyelashes to hide behind, she felt as naked as a newborn. She did not want to see the things she saw in Maddox’s gaze. It was too dangerous to give a name to. The King already was considering killing him once they returned to Midsummer. If he suspected her protests on Maddox’s behalf were due to-

She felt her heart pounding in her throat and was eternally grateful that Harland broke the silence with his proposal. It was as if he was throwing them a lifeline.

“I think I might want to see the ships even more than the sea, but yes.” She said, taking a much longer drink than necessary.

Somehow Maddox looked even more forlorn. For all intents and purposes, he was lost to the Shark Clan the day he fought under Unseelie banners. It was said his own father no longer spoke his name. But these were not things to be discussed, not here. Regardless of his feelings, he would not jeopardize his position with the Nighthawks. He would have to speak with Harland later.

HARLAND:

For his own peace of mind, the Duke kept his gaze even, eyes cordially downcast, as he waited for the pair to cease their staring match. Just as he had done before, Harland wondered what lay beneath the veneer, the thin wall that separated them for propriety's sake.

There was more than enough evidence for Harland to file away, to keep to himself or use as he saw fit, but there was no point in any of it. One way or another, they were damned. It did not matter who let the final stroke fall, did it? Besides, he knew he could not harm Maddox that way. Kit...well she was a mystery on her own. But to harm her would be to harm Maddox, and Harland did not have the heart for either option.

Things he had believed he should hate stared him in the eye and his heart skipped instead. It was a true puzzle, but Harland found he did not wish to solve it.

Still, when Kit spoke, Harland found himself nodding along, a small upturn of his lip indicating a smile. "They are lovely, yes. Well-made. The men who use them know what they are doing. I, unfortunately, do not. I've an idea, but was never...the man who was to teach me...he died, during the war, before I could be enlisted to the front." The Duke stared down into his glass for a moment, shoulders drooping, before indicating for someone else to speak their turn.

KIT/ MADDOX:

Kit smiled at Harland. “It will be an adventure then. For all of us to learn.” She wished she knew how to ease the sadness that seemed to envelop the men near her.

Maddox took a long drink before turning to face Kit, his gaze unreadable even to her.

“You still don’t hate Balthazar. Even though you want to.”

Kit frowned and drank from her glass. Maddox seemed to wait for an explanation, but Kit gave none. Instead, she turned to Harland, her expression blank.

“While disappointed, you are not surprised that Balthazar Black is capable of nearly killing me.”

HARLAND:

He returned Kit's smile with one of his own, one that was not as soft but it was genuine all the same. It eased a bit of the sadness in the room, but there it still hung between them all, like a thick fog.

Maddox's guess was true and so Kit drank. The guard's face was unreadable, but Harland did not linger on the thought of it long. Kit had turned her mischievous eye to him, now, and the Duke steeled himself for her questions.

He laughed. The sound was unsurprised. Harland shook his head and drank deeply. "They call him the Black Dragon for a reason, my lady. I have tried to garner something like...trust in him, from the people. I have tried." He splayed his hands, shook his head. "But it is a thankless job when the man you are trying to save damns himself as often as he is able. While he saved my life, he has almost ended it, as well. Such is how things go."

Steepling his fingers beneath on the tabletop, Harland turned his eye to the faerie across from him. There was nothing harsh about his face. Instead, only a curiosity.

"You miss your family."

KIT/ MADDOX:

There was something almost like nostalgia in the smile she gave Harland. She could see Balthazar in her mind’s eyes as he was when they were younger. The same damning ferocity and passion. If she had been alone, she would have broken down into sobs. But instead, she downed her drink and reached for the bottle.

Maddox raised an eyebrow at Harland before taking a drink. “I have a sister I would have liked to see grow up. I hear she’s done it without me. Grown to be quite ferocious if the whispers are to be believed.” His voice was quiet. He spoke of his sister the way those in mourning speak of their dead. To Maddox, his family was even less accessible than the dead. At least you could visit the dead where they rested. But Maddox? Maddox was likely to be speared on sight if he entered Shark clan territory.

He turned to Kit, but Kit raised a hand as she filled her cup far more than a woman of her size should. “I’ve decided it’s not fair my shadow should ask me questions. I can keep no secrets from you,” she said, without a trace of malice. “Besides, what if you were to take advantage of my drunken state?”

Maddox guffawed.

“I have peeled you off the floor of every godsforken tavern in Midsummer, my lady, but as you wish.” He replied, motioning to Harland.

HARLAND:

The Duke smiled a bit and nodded. "I'm certain she is. Runs in the family, or so I hear." He gave a bit of a cheeky wink and took a drink before turning away from the ma. There were some things to be said for the questions he asked, and he would not push further than he was warranted. But, if he had an inkling of who Maddox's sister was he was certain that the guard would know he was right.

Rather than speak any further, Harland quirked his own brow at the woman, a quiet laugh escaping him at the banter between the two, a genuine smile at the laughter that came from the guard. With the way she could drink, it was hardly a surprise, if Harland was being honest. Standing quietly, the Duke collected the empty bottle and walked it over to the sill near the stores.

He grabbed another bottle and came back with it, gesturing helplessly as he placed it on the table in front of the pair. "I think we will need another, hm?"

Settling back down into his seat with a sigh, Harland studied first Kit and then Maddox before giving a tired sigh.

"All of our lives were changed by the war, in more ways than we could have ever anticipated."

He toasted them both and then drank.

#ch: kit #featuring: maddox maziac #c: sound of silence #r: hardoxx #abuse tw #manipulation tw #victim blaming tw #//okay so FUN FACT #//this thing was 41 fucking pages long #r: harlet

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