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lady-lazaret · 6 years

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A Token of Affection

For a prompt sent by @housesghastlymenhaunted It was fun changing it up a bit and writing in Maeve’s voice haha. (Don't ask me, I started this way, waaay back and forgot what the prompt was 😂) Canon divergence, Julian in the red market, book ix

The underground is like a maze, and considering the amount of people, it’s easy to get lost in.

I hold on tight to Julian’s hand as I focus on keeping my balance. Between the uneven stone floor and the endless crowd before us, it’s hard not to trip over the endless parade of feet, but I manage. If only because the last time I fell led to Julian getting stabbed. Not that he seemed to mind, but I’m not keen on it.

“You know, this is the third time we’ve passed by the stall selling the asphodels and moly,” I point out, drawing closer to his side.

“Nonsense, I know this place like the back of my hand. And trust me, I know it well. Do you know how much time I spend staring at the brand?”

“Have you not stopped to consider that maybe they’ve changed their layout a bit? When was the last time you were here?”

He drops his gaze, sheepish. “That’s true. The last time I was here, people still sought refuge from the plague. But I know there was a lady who sold memorabilia nearby, the real stuff. Stall has a red roof, gold bunting. Hard to miss.”

Hard to…? I look over to the booth with the asphodels and sigh. Red roof. Gold bunting. It sticks out like a sore thumb against the wear and tear of the rest of the Red Market. A young man tends to the flowers, shovel in one hand, watering can in the other. He seems to be alone; no lady to speak of.

Julian follows my gaze and realizes his mistake.

“You know, they might have changed their layout more than I thought. How do you feel about ducking into one of those passages?” he motions towards a shady alley, “God knows where it’ll get us, but it’s better than here.”

It’s not a bad idea, if not a bit questionable. That thinking’s got us in danger before, but we’re out of options. I nod and follow him into a shadowy space between stalls.

And on the other side, it smells like jasmines.

When I survey the space, I’m awed by how different it looks from the rest of the market. Though it still looks rather shady, it’s enough to make me loosen my hold on my satchel, though not on Julian’s hand. I take note of the stalls lined with various exotic ingredients, things that Asra frequently has to journey far to even get the barest bit of. Already, I feel the hole in my coinpurse. I could wander here for days, though it definitely does pose a bit of danger.

“Now this I’ve never seen,” comments Julian as he takes a tentative step forward, sweeping the place warily. I think it’s more beauty than danger, but it does pay to be more cautious.

“Definitely different from brine and leeches, huh?” I ask, taking a step towards a stall swathed in white silk, all manner of finery lining it.

“Definitely. But is it a good difference or a bad difference? All I see is witchcraft.”

I roll my eyes. “You were fine with witchcraft a second ago.”

“Maybe because you’ve enchanted me.”

“Sometimes I can’t tell if you say things for the sake of cheesiness or if you just happen to have something ready for every situation. It’s not even— whatever.”

“You’re like an adventure, you know? Impossible to get ready for, but something one goes with nonetheless.”

“Are you implying that you’re only just tolerating me?”

“I’m implying that I can’t resist you, Maeve.” He winks. Or blinks. I can’t really tell.

He trails behind me as I survey a stall filled with oddities. Vials of jewel-toned liquids and rare flower pulp call to me, the magic they give off making the air shimmer. Beside them sit candleholders glowing from the inside, their flames almost certainly undying. Their metalwork speaks of years and years of refinement, and the aura they give off is…

“Magic warmth, blessed with the comfort of your birthplace,” says the old lady tending to the stall. She has stitches over one eye and an owl on her shoulder.

I resist the draw of the candleholders. “My birthplace?” I look over to Julian who squeezes my shoulder. “Not very comforting.”

“Your memories aren’t quite fond? How about something to ward off your nightmares?” The woman brandishes a dream catcher in front of me, woven with spider silk and iridescent feathers. Its wooden frame gives off an aura older than the ground we stand on.

Subtly, Julian nudges me, jerking his chin towards vials of deep purple and inky black. Basilisk venom and tonic made from belladonna and hemlock crushed with stone made from a gorgon’s stare. Both help with eternal sleep. Some of the rarest, most potent poison. A shiver runs down my spine and we move along.

We pass stalls of golden fruit and silver wine, everything served on goblets and platters piled high with jewels. A lady tends one stall, a coral snake around her arm. In another, a boy wrestles playfully with a cheetah not quite grown.

They’re witches, I realize. Witches and magicians old and young, their familiars accompanying them to work. If we weren’t caught up in the investigation, I’d open a stall down here.

I change my mind when an overgrown Venus flytrap snaps at my satchel. I hold on tighter to Julian and run along.

It’s only after a bit of clueless wandering that we stop to take a breather. At this point, both of us know that there isn’t much to gain from this excursion, and so our pace is little more than a curious meander before it stops altogether.

He takes a look at the ceiling above us, every inch of it covered in enchanted lanterns. They’re so bright that it looks like daylight down here, even though neither of us are quite sure how long we’ve spent down here. But it’s certainly been long enough for me to get hungry.

Julian surprises me by taking my hand and lacing our fingers together.

“When all this is through, remind me to take you on a proper date.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I’ll pass if you take me down here again.”

“What’s not to like?” he laughs. “Hags with potent poisons, all manner of dangerous beasts… I’d wager that isn’t all that’s lurking about. How about it? We’ll eat some fruit, drink some wine, and stay trapped down here like some poor fairytale idiots.”

I roll my eyes. “How romantic.”

He shrugs. “Better than any old hole in the wall. I bet this place never runs out of adventure. What do you think it’ll be next time? A magical duel? Colosseum battle with some fanged horror? How about it, Maeve?”

“Goddamn. You had me at magical duel, Doctor.”

“It’s settled then. When all this is over, I want to see you flex your magic muscles.”

“That sounds ridiculous.”

“And attractive.” He winks. Or so I think he does.

When we resume our walk, there’s a bit more spring in his step, and in mine, admittedly. We keep our fingers entwined as we move through the crowds and the hawking vendors, each step another one in the wrong direction. The bit of worry in the back of my mind grows with each passing minute, though, because every moment we fail to find a lead is one closer to Julian’s hanging. The lightness in my chest gives way to dread.

I nearly tell him that he have to leave, but he abruptly stops in front of me and takes me to one of the stalls. When I turn to question him, I see that he looks radiant.

Before us is a glittering array of costumes. Sequined gowns and embroidered tailcoats line haphazard racks, and the middle of the stall is brimming with glittering accessories— hats woven with bits of silver and peacock feathers, earrings that twinkle with chunks of bismuth, and masks of various sizes that boast gold embroidery and swirls of luminescent paint. It’s one of those he holds up for me to see: an elegant piece made of cracked ivory with a gold full moon on the centre and a crescent flanking either side. Delicate silver whorls decorate it, turning blue and green when he moves it this way and that.

“This suits you, don’t you think?”

I blush, all worries abated, if only for a second. “I can’t believe you saw that and just… thought of me. It’s really pretty.”

“Quite like you, my dear. Allow me the honour of letting this grace your lovely face?”

Red to the tips of my ears, I brush my hair aside and let him secure it at the back of my neck. It’s quite heavy, but I feel the magic along its grooves.

“A lovely mask for a lovely lady,” says the shopkeeper, a little ferret peeking over their shoulder. They offer me a hand mirror, and I gleefully note that it suits me well. I kiss Julian on the cheek, standing on the tips of my toes.

The cracks in the ivory are filled with bits of crushed labradorite, channeling magic throughout the whole thing. It makes me feel calmer, a bit less apprehensive. And the effect is nothing short of breathtaking.

“Let me get it for you,” offers Julian, a smile on his face.

I touch the mask, the ivory cool against my fingers. “It looks like it costs a bit. It’s fine,” I say, making a mental note to come back for it when I start crying gemstones.

“More than that dumb brush? It’ll be my pleasure,” he says, already handing the shopkeep a bag of coins. Hopefully, it isn’t pirate gold this time.

“Thank you,” I say, sheepishly, once the mask is put in a box and wrapped with twine. “Next time we’re down here, let me get you something.”

He looks at the other items on display. “Matching masks for the Masquerade?”

“I honestly never thought I’d be into those matching couple things, but it’s a deal.”

“Get out of here, clear my name, and attend the Masquerade in matching outfits with the prettiest girl in Vesuvia? Sounds like a fine plan.”

As we walk arm in arm, I hear footsteps behind us and the unmistakable throaty croak.

“Those are the two imbeciles who stiffed me with pirate gold!” yells the Memory Dealer.

Julian and I exchange a look, and then we run as fast as we can, laughing all the way.

#the arcana #the arcana game #julian devorak #julian x mc #the arcana fanfic #y'all better read this this is my first fic in like 2 months #sorry i vanished lol #also it's 1am im tired #finished this just now so sjsjjsjsj #gOODNIGHT #maeve/xiwei #my apprentice #that was kind of a crack ending #totally a crack ending

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