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aletterinthenameofsanity · 1 year

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we will put the lonesome on the shelf (Merthur)

Merthur. Fix-it. Crossposted on ao3.

Merlin falls in love with Arthur. That's clear from even a cursory watch of this show.

So let's talk about this story, about how Merlin falls in love with Arthur and his duty and he calls it destiny but that's not why he stays, because he's terrified by Uther but that doesn't matter.

Merlin falls in love with Arthur because he's kind, and he's brave, and he's honorable, and he may not be Good with a capital 'G' but then again, who is? Merlin falls in love with Arthur because Arthur isn't a saint but he's not a monster, because Arthur is flawed and beautiful in his mistakes.

Merlin falls in love with Camelot because Arthur loves his country and he shows Merlin how to love it too, because a boy with magic sure isn't going to fall in love with the nation that demands he repress what he is or else face death.

Merlin falls in love with the people of this city, cowering and standing and kind and brave and broken. He falls in love with the peasants who trade in the marketplace, the knights who will lay down their lives for Arthur, even the cook who bops him on the head every time he passes.

Merlin falls in love. Let's call it what it is. He falls in love and he can feel his magic protecting a kingdom, a citadel, a King, all in the name of a silly boy who doesn't know just how precious he is to his manservant.

But see here's the thing: Arthur's not some oblivious idiot. If he was that much of an idiot, I don't think Merlin would have fallen in love with him.

So Arthur finds out about Merlin’s magic, because of course he does, because Arthur may be a bit thick and stuck up and yes, a clotpole, but he's not an idiot. When he finds out doesn't matter- if he knows from the beginning, if he figures it out when Merlin sends the light after him when he's searching for an antidote, if he witnesses Merlin scrubbing his armor with a levitating rag. That's not important, not to the story of Merlin and Arthur.

Because here's the key part of the story: Arthur doesn't mention it. At least, not at first. Merlin could be executed, after all, and Arthur already cares far too much about the servant who is the only person to disrespect him. He's not going to rat out Merlin to his father.

This is a fairytale, a bedtime story, of a prince falling in love with a servant and that servant falling in love right back. Merlin never gives up on Arthur and Arthur never gives up on Merlin.

But a happy ending is not waiting a thousand years for your lover to return from a watery grave. Arthur doesn't deserve that. Merlin doesn't deserve that.

So Arthur knows about Merlin's magic and his father dies and Arthur turns to Merlin and says, not even attempting any kind of tact because this is Merlin and manners have never mattered, “I know you have magic, and I want your help."

And Merlin will gape at him, because he'd thought he'd kept his magic a secret, and Arthur will sigh.

(Except Merlin's magic is, by this point, the worst kept secret in Camelot. Lancelot and Gaius know. Ealdor knows. Gwaine and Gwen suspect. Mordred and Morgana know. The whole world is aware of how easy it is to have magic and be the King's left-hand man.)

"Alright, then, Arthur," Merlin eventually says. "Tell me how I can help."

And Arthur smiles. -

Merlin is not soft. In no version of this story is he soft. He has killed dozens in the name of Arthur- he knows what it is to hold the power of life in your hands and choose without remorse.

But oh, Arthur is not soft either. No king is. He has led armies into battle, watched soldiers die by his sword.

(Once, years ago, his father told him to attack civilians, and him, in his youth, did just that. And it haunts him.)

“Do you think we're good people?” Arthur will ask Merlin one night, and Merlin will look up from the armor he's shining and be unsure how to answer. What is good? Can killers be good, if they’re working to a good goal?

"I don't know," Merlin will say, and that's the honest answer. "All I know is that I'm trying to be, and I think you are too. And that's good enough."

Arthur will nod. "Thank you."

Merlin will smile that crooked smile that had Arthur falling in love with him, all those years ago. "No problem, you clotpole."

So they're both in love and Arthur legalizes magic- because why would he ever keep Merlin's head on the chopping block when he has the power to save him. Merlin becomes Court Sorcerer and the two of them begin the long process of making the kingdom as close to good as they can make it.

And one night, a year since Arthur's father died, Arthur leans in and kisses Merlin, and Merlin kisses him back. Because this is a love story, you know, and these boys don't deserve to pine after each other forever. Let them have their love confession, their dramatic reveal, their kiss.

In the months that follow, Mordred becomes a knight and swears loyalty to his King with a smile on his face; Morgana learns magic without fear of persecution. A sword lies unclaimed in a stone and a girl sleeps at the bottom of a lake. Gwaine, Percival, Lancelot, and Elyan all become knights, and Gwen marries Lancelot in a ceremony attended by her King.

In the end, Merlin and Arthur unite Albion, legalize magic, bring peace to the kingdoms, and it's not because it's their destiny, but because they are too stubborn for their own good. And the world prospers for it.

So this is a fairytale, with a King and his Warlock, with a knight and his kingdom. And sure, there is no princess, but there is a Consort and a grand wedding, and Merlin only wears his crown when other monarchs visit, but they are living happily-ever-after.

Arthur and Merlin live, and it may not always be happy, but they're in love and every fight ends up resolved with a kiss and an apology.

One day, the names of Arthur and Merlin will be remembered as Great, and it's not because of a failed battle or a too-late confession. It'll be because these two men may not be Good, but they are trying their best.

And as Merlin says, that's good enough.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17673542

#merthur #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #canon divergence #fix-it #fairytale elements #character study #magic revealed #arthur is not oblivious #happy ending #meta #this show is gayer than i am #i shout into the void #ao3 #fanfic #crossposted on ao3 #aletterinthenameofsanity

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sassyduckqueen · 1 year

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A Little Bit of Magic- Lukanette Halloween

Hello guys! It’s been a while but I am back (kind of). I’ve been in a bit of the slump recently. Long story short, personal things going on affected my ability to write but I’m working through them. I can’t promise I’ll be updating ROA straight away but hopefully I’ll get back into the swing of it. Anyway, here’s some spooky lukanette fluff for you that I wrote for Halloween (even if I’m a little late in my country) and the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers 500 followers. Congrats on that by the way guys. Proud of ya! Now admittedly I couldn’t find a prompt from the given list that jumped out at me so I went through some of the older prompts that had been used before and ended up picking cursed so here’s what I’ve done with it. I hope you enjoy it and I hope everyone had a good Halloween :D

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Marinette licked her lips nervously as she paced outside of the shop she had come to visit. Well, visit wasn't exactly the right term. Actually it kind of was but not because she intended to visit. Well, she did but she was here because she felt like she was running out of options. Recently she had experienced severe bad luck that seemed to get worse each day. At first it wasn't bad like pricking her finger with her needles or losing some fabric that she needed for a commission. Annoying but not bad. However, it began to increase. Briefly misplacing her foot soon turned into her falling down a couple of stairs but it didn't stay like that. Soon she found herself getting more and more injured. Her parents got increasingly worried so they made her go to the doctors, despite being an adult yet despite their tests, they found nothing and then the 'bad' luck took a more mysterious turn. Exploding lights and cars nearly hitting her. Animals began to act weird around her, like cats would hiss and hide from her and dogs would whimper and bark. The accidents also kept increasing so she decided to look into causes for her bad luck. She thought maybe it was an unknown or rare medical thing but the only thing that came up in the search was one thing. She had been cursed. At first, she didn't believe it but then with the fire in the bakery when she was visiting and her best friend breaking her leg for no reason , she realised it might be the only option and if it was, she had to find a way to get rid of it before it killed her and hurt anyone else because that's where it appeared to be going. As to why she had been cursed, she couldn't really think of the reason. Sure, there was her rival Chloe Bourgeois. She was the daughter of the fashion Queen Audrey Bourgeois but her style was to humiliate people. Not voodoo. Plus she liked to take credit. It helped with her queen bee act. It also meant that she wasn’t the person behind the curse but Marinette couldn’t think of anyone else who would want to curse her. She got on with everyone but Chloe in her class so she had no idea who it was or how to break it, which is what led her here. Couffaine Curiosities. Apparently, it was an occult shop so maybe they might have a solution for her. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door, only to proceed to trip and knock into a bookshelf which then began to fall on her. She screamed and covered herself with her arms.

“Ezeerf!” A voice shouted, causing the bookshelf and the books to freeze midair. Marinette’s eyes widened as she stared in shock. “Ecalp lufthgir rouy ot nruter,”

The books and bookshelf moved back into its place, causing her to stare in shock even more before footsteps echoed coming closer to her.

“Are you ok?” The same voice asked, causing her to look at its owner. She was half expecting him to be an old wise looking man with a long grey beard and starry robes but to her surprise, he looked nothing like Gandalf or Master Yen Sid from Disney. In fact, he was only a couple of years older than herself and had a punk look going on. His hair was black with blue tips, he wore a blue hood, a jagged stone t-shirt and black ripped joggers with awesome looking shoes (she was sure they were customized). His nails were painted black and he wore several bands on his wrist. Her eyes were a sparkling blue that resembled the ocean and he had the kindest smile, causing her to blush. Especially as he extended his hand to her. She carefully placed hers in it and he pulled her to her feet, making her blush even more before he turned over her hand and frowned. “Seems you have quite the curse on you,”

“Y-You can tell?” She asked, still in awe.

“Well, I am a witch,” He replied, making her blink before he chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m a white witch,”

“A white witch?” She asked, unsure of what he meant.

“I’m the good kind,” He replied, making her breathe out a sigh of relief that she hadn’t realised she had been holding.

“Can you get rid of the curse?” She asked but she was unsure if it was a curse. Still, she hoped he could.

“I can,” He confirmed, nodding. She let out a sigh of relief again. “I wouldn’t be a very good witch if I couldn’t but it will need a little more than an incarnation. Follow me… and keep hold of my hand. I can keep the effects of the curse at bay,”

“R-Really?” Marinette asked, blushing a little. He was really cute after all. He nodded and gave her a soft smile before beginning to lead her through the shop before they came to the back of the store. He pulled across a curtain and led her to a table and chairs. “Have a seat,”

“R-Right,” She nodded, sitting down. He let go of her hand, causing her to feel heavy suddenly. She frowned as he grabbed a bowl before he began to fill it up with plants. “Um… I’m Ma-Ma-Marinette by the way…”

“Hello, Ma-Ma-Marinette,” He replied, smiling as he looked over at her before he turned away and added more to the bowl. Marinette frowned a little as it felt like he was mocking her. He didn’t seem that way at first but maybe he was. Maybe he couldn’t break her curse and was just playing with her. She looked back over at him, only to see that he was looking at her again. However, his expression had changed. He looked embarrassed and remorseful. “Sorry. I tend to make more sense with music. In fact… cisum s'traeh reh yalp,”

Once again, Marinette found herself amazed as the soft sound of a guitar began to play, connecting with her on an emotional level. It was as if it was playing what she was feeling inside. She couldn’t help but close her eyes as she listened. Slowly, the melody faded out.

“Did you enjoy the music?” He asked, making her nod. “I’m glad. Oh… I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Luka,”

“It’s nice to meet you, Luka,” She smiled, causing him to smile back. “Can I ask how you did the trick with the music?”

“Magic,” He replied, smiling. “But you’re still not sure,”

“You're right… but it felt like… me,” She replied as he added another ingredient to the bowl before grabbing something that resembled a tiny club and began to grind the herbs. “Like what I feel,”

“That’s because it was,” He replied, making her blink. “I’m an empath. I can feel people’s emotions and I use music to help me understand what they need. It’s the song from your heart that I had play. You see music is often simpler than words, Marinette,”

“Wow,” She replied, amazed. Luka gave her a smile. She was starting to believe

"Almost done," He replied, continuing to grind the herbs until they were nothing more than a fine dust.

"So what are the plants going to do?"

"They are herbs that are used to break hexes and counter negativity," He replied, looking through the drawers. "The level of your curse is quite powerful so I need more than just the herbs. Did you offend anyone recently?"

"Not that I can think of," She replied, causing him to frown. "How bad is the curse?"

"Well, let's just say you probably should have come here sooner but it's a good thing you finally got here," He replied, taking out a jar and placing it on the table before going back to the cupboards. "Whoever cursed you knew exactly what they were doing,"

"That sounds like it was intentional," Marinette replied, frowning. Why would anyone curse her? She tried to be a good person. Her parents taught her that manners were extremely important and to always help people. She tried to be a good person. She tried so hard. She felt tears fill her eyes but before she could cry, Luka knelt down in front of her.

"Hey, been cursed doesn't mean that you're a bad person," He stated in a calm voice, gently taking her hand in his. Instantly, she felt calm.

"But… then why was I cursed?"

"It could be a number of things," He replied, making her blink. "Envy, Spite or just because they're just a nasty piece of work,"

Marinette nodded as he gently squeezed her hand before getting up again. She couldn’t explain it but she just knew he could help her and that he was good.

"I can also send it back to the caster," He stated, making her blink as he took out some tea light candles.

"But wouldn't that be a curse itself?"

"No, it's simply returning the magic from whence it came," He replied, placing the candles in a circle around the jar before he turned on his heel and disappeared farther into the shop. Marinette frowned as her mind searched for a reason as to why she had been cursed. She replayed every interaction she could remember in her mind but nothing made sense. However, Luka returned from wherever he had gone holding another bowl. It was filled with what appeared to be ash that had been pressed down. He placed it on the table and took a seat across from her, adding a metal disc with a handle to it. Marinette watched as he poured the herb dust into it before picking up a brush and dusting it on the disc, shaping it. Once it was shaped, he carefully removed the disc. “This ritual I’m going to do is known as an uncrossing. It will draw out the dark magic that has been placed on you and then I will trap it in that jar. However, an uncrossing can be extremely uncomfortable so please try to relax your mind and don’t be afraid,”

“O-Ok,” She replied nervously as he took out some matches and lit the candles. “Matches?”

“Fire magic is not my gift,” He replied with a soft smile, taking out another match. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I can be,” She replied, causing him to nod before he lit the match, bringing it to the incense. It briefly caught on fire before it went out, causing smoke to flow. As soon as Marinette smelt its scent, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she began to shake as if having a seizure. The witch boy grabbed the jar as she let out a scream. It felt like her bones were being broken one by one and the pain was unbearable. Tears began to run down her cheeks and blood began to drip from her nose as she shook violently.

“Enodnu eb esruc!!” He declared, causing her to let out a scream and throw her head back before a black smoke rushed out. Luka opened the jar, causing it to get sucked into it before he closed the lid and screwed it shut. Marinette flopped forward as she breathed in heavily. Luka put down the jar and moved over to her, gently placed his hands on her. She carefully looked up. “Sorry,”

“N-No, it’s fine,” She replied, touching her nose. She felt tired and drained but at the same time, she felt better than she had been for a while. “But have you got a tissue?”

“Of course,” He replied, pulling one out of his sleeve. She let out a little chuckle as he handed it to her. She gently wiped the blood from her nose and the tears from her eyes before looking over at the jar.

“It really was a curse,” She replied, feeling her strength slowly return. In fact, she felt better than before. “Thank you, Luka,”

“No worries,” He replied, sitting back down. Marinette frowned as she noticed he looked visibly tired.

“Um, are you ok?” She asked, frowning.

“Oh… sorry,” He mumbled. “Spells on that level are very powerful and take a lot of energy. Especially given how power the curse was too,”

“Someone really wanted me dead…” She frowned. “Oh god what if they try to harm you?”

“Even if they did, it wouldn’t work,” He replied, reaching into his pocket and taking out a chocolate bar. He opened it and took a bite out of it, eating it.

“How come?”

“I have protection,” He replied, tapping his silver bracelet. “A protection amulet. Keeps all kinds of evil away,”

“How much would it be to get one of those?” Marinette asked before gasping. “And the ritual. How much do I owe you for removing the curse? I don’t have a lot of money but surely, I can give you something,”

“No need for that, Marinette. I don’t charge for my services,” He replied, making her blink. “I don’t need the money,”

“But surely you should get something,” She replied as he got up and picked up the jar. He walked over to one of the cupboards and placed it inside before closing it before he turned back to her.

“Helping people is enough for me,” He replied, looking a little better. “Now I should definitely make you a protection amulet as the witch who cursed you will strike again,”

“Oh that would be wonderful!” She gasped, smiling before she realised that it won’t be ready straight away. Even with his magic. “But what should I do in the meantime? They’ll curse me as soon as they realise, right?”

“Luckily, I have just the thing,” He replied, getting up and offering his hand to her. She smiled and took it, causing him to pull her to her feet before he led her through the store, revealing it was literally bigger on the inside. She glanced around in amazement as he led her through it. It was filled with all kinds of wonderful things. From balls of lights that danced around to amazing creatures that she was sure belonged in a fairytale. In fact, she saw things that she was certain were from the fairytales.

“Are those Cinderella’s shoes?” She asked, glancing at the glass slippers. Luka smiled but didn’t answer. Instead he stopped and picked up a small box.

“Here,” He stated, holding the box to her. She took it and opened them, revealing a pair of earrings that resembled a ladybug. “These are very special earrings that bring the wearer good luck. They should be able to counter the bad luck curse when the witch recasts it until I can make you the protection charm for you,”

“Really?” She replied, causing him to nod. “Thank you so much,”

“No worries, Marinette,” He smiled. “You should probably put them on now though,”

“Right,” She nodded and placed the box down before taking out her current earrings. She placed them on the table as well then took out the ladybug earrings and put them in. Instantly, she felt warmth surround her. It was like a hug that encouraged her and made feel like she was going to be ok. It reminded her of the feeling she got when she made a new dress. Luka smiled gently at her.

“They suit you,” He smiled, making her blush. “I do believe I would explain what wiccan and magic was,”

“I think I have a rough idea now,” She replied. “But I like to learn more,”

“I’d be more than happy to tell you,” Luka smiled before a light blush came over his cheeks. “Maybe over a coffee?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Would you be interested?” He asked, making her blush.

“I would love to,”

#luka couffaine #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #lukanette #lukanette endgame #pro lukamari #pro lukanette #no miraculous au #magic au #Witch!Luka #Bad Luck curse #Fairytale elements #fluff #Halloween #Halloween fic #Not scary though #Just really cute #Or at least I hope it is #White Witch!Luka #Good Witch!Luka

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wherethewordsare · 2 years

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Snowdrops Among the Buttercups Chapter 1

Hey guys, just a little heads up, please mind the tags on this one. This is a MCD fic, where it ends in self-sacrifice. This is not a happy ending fic. There will be at least two parts, the first part will not have the MCD part in it. Based off of the original Little Mermaid written by Hans Christian Andersen. Even if you don't read my fic, I highly recommend the original story.

And for those who would rather: You can read it on AO3 here!

Long long ago, high in the blue mountains, a pack of wolves had been tasked by forgotten gods to watch over their sacred wood. For generations, the pack did not hunger or thirst nor tire, propelled only by their duty, their destiny.

And then man came, climbing into the mountains with their iron weapons and their fire and snares. The wolves fought back and drove the men back to the vallies below. Fearful they would return, the pack leader, a wolf known as Vesemir went to the witch in the woods and struck a deal. If she would cast a spell over the wood, protecting it from the evil hearts of men, the wolves would do her hunting for her.

The deal was struck but to Vesemir, she gave a warning. One day, yellow flowers would bloom under the Elder Tree and when it did, one of his sons would be lost to the snow drift.

He thought nothing of this since flowers couldn't bloom when it snowed, not this high in the mountains. His sons would be safe. Their home too.

Or so the old wolf had thought.

Many years later on a clear spring morning, while patrolling the boarders of their forest, a white wolf, almost the size of a horse, came across something he had never seen before. A young human, barely a man but certainly no longer a boy leaned against the trunk of the Elder Tree, singing softly, his eyes looking up into the branches that swayed.

The wolf thought that maybe the Elder Tree enjoyed the song and danced along, slender branches dipping in the non existent breeze. But men, humans were supposed to be dangerous, carrying steel and fire. Even, Vesimer had warned once, magic, stolen by the new gods from the old and passes along. But this one only carried a satchal, quill and papers strewn in the grass, and a lute across his lap.

The wolf only sat and watched, nearly forgetting what he was supposed to be doing. Years of instinct slowed down as he breathed in the scent of buttercups but under it something dank and ancient crawled in.

The wolf leapt into the clearing then, startling the man who dropped his instrument and pressed himself against the tree.

"Whoa! Whoa!" His eyes were bright blue and filled not with fear but wonder. "Aren't you beautiful," he cooed through a tremble in his voice.

The wolf paid him no mind though as it crouched, growling and fangs bared.

"Alright, you don't like com-" the young man yelped as the wolf lunged. But white fur only flashed past him and into the thick green. Something screamed as the wolf fought it and finally there was a sickening snap of something breaking, something vital.

He moved back out of the woods, black ichor staining his muzzle and chest and the man only stood there, still staring.

"I think you just saved my life! Thank you!" And he smiled. The wolf only tilted his head. "Here! May I?" The man pulled out a fine cloth and gestured to the wolf.

It was too easy to bow his head down and let the human clean away the foul gore. He still allowed the wolf his space, not crowding in while getting the worst of the mess. Part of him howled to tear into the man for trespassing into their wood, but this man seemed mostly harmless, if not a bit of a fool.

Up close, the wolf could see the dark circles under the young man's bright eyes and smell the road on him. He huffed as the cloth carefully brushed against his chest.

"I got a bit turned around, then I got a bit distracted, His other hand came up and in it, bright yellow buttercups in a tangle of stems.

The wolf only looked down and let his ears flick back.

"Well I wasn't completely in danger was I? You came along and found me!" His smile brightened and something in the wolf thawed like the first warm day of spring. He pushed his muzzle into the young man's hand and let his tongue flick out at his wrist.

"Right right. I'll be careful next time. But think you could do me one last favor to save my life," and fingers were behind his ear, scratching. "Help me out of here?"

The wolf only huffed and turned, letting his long tail swat the man's side.

"Oh is that how it is? By the gods you're bossy," the man bent down and retrieved his bag and his lute and followed close behind the wolf. "Jaskier," he said suddenly.

Geralt, the wolf thought but despite how the human, Jaskier, might understand him in the general sense, he thought that a name might have gotten lost in the translation.

"I'm guessing if I call you Snowball, you'll kill me after all," Jaskier hummed.

Geralt only turned his head and bared his teeth but instead of shrinking away, Jaskier only laughed and Geralt found he liked the sound.

The trek through the wood wasn't a long one, but the thick underbrush had made it hard on the human. Geralt had to fight the urge to scruff him like a pup and carry him. But as they made their way through Jaskier had explained that he was a student of the arts and he thought a walkabout to the old ruins of lost bard colleges, he might rediscover something.

"Instead, I found something altogether new, a striking handsome muse," he flashed his teeth wide and Geralt only huffed, his eyes rolling as he turned back to the path.

At the edge of the wood, Geralt sat back, looking behind him at Jaskier.

"I'd repay you for your kindness, but I have nothing to offer. I doubt wolves have much need for coin, and I would make a fool of myself trying to offer any kind of game," he chuckled. There was an easy manner to the way he reached out and patted the wolf.

Geralt turned his large head and let it bump gently into the lute before he laid down in the grass. Even then, his head still came up to Jaskier's shoulder and so he turned, their eyes locking. Jaskier had understood with a smile and a nod.

He too sat in the grass and plucked along his lute strings. Music was not something that relly ever came to the Blue Mountains. But the way that Jaskier’s hands fluttered over the taught strings fingers sometimes tapping a gentle rhythm underneath, it reminded Geralt of the song birds that sometimes migrated through. It was an old song, one Geralt nearly recognized but not quite. When Jaskier was finished, Geralt tipped his head down in silent thanks.

"If you're ever in Oxenfurt, well," Jaskier laughed again. "I think I would know pretty quickly. Not too many giant white wolves at the college, let alone across the continent. He hesitated for a moment then leaned in. Geralt froze but did not pull away as the bard pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. They stood there for a moment before Jaskier pulled away, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, I guess that means you're not some cursed prince in need of rescue," he chuckled. Geralt furrowed his brow and snorted.

"Hey now, can't blame a man for trying. Thank you again, Snowball. I hope destiny finds us together again someday." And with that, he was gone.

Months went by and Geralt found that he could not forget the man that had stumbled into their forest looking for ancient secrets only to be distracted by bright flowers. It did not sound like the blood-thirsty men that Vesimer and the other elders had talked about.

That season, buttercups seemed to have bloomed and spread further among the roots of the Elder Tree than Geralt could remember, all the while Vesimer seemed to keep his heckles up, snapping and more broodish.

None of it made sense and all Geralt wanted in that moment was to go out into the world and find Jaskier. He wasn't even sure what Oxenfurt was or where to find it, but he knew if he could leave the mountains, he would at least have a chance.

Midsommer was approaching swiftly and could fight it no more. Geralt made his way through the wood to where the roots had withered in the hard stone of the mountain and the trees seemed to play as morbid sentinels for the witch. However before he could step onto the path to her door, Vesemir stepped onto the path in front of him. He snarled, his ears back but Geralt did not budge, he barely blinked. He had to know and if he fought the Vesemir, that would never happen. He just wanted to be allowed to go in peace. The old wolf shook his massive head and huffed. The consequences of chasing after that human would fall onto Geralt's head alone.

The witch of the woods was waiting for him on the small porch of her hut. The others of his pack had told him stories of the witch and what stood before him was not what he had imagined. She was not old nor hunched nor knarled. Some might have considered her quite beautiful, with dark curls falling over strong slender shoulders and a warm round face. She smiled at him, almost sadly.

"I knew you would come one day, and I know Vesemir had hoped for more time. But destiny has always moved at her own pace." She stepped down onto the path and held out a bottle and a scroll in one hand, her other still hidden in her robes. "Geralt, I know what deal you have come to make this day. And this is what I can offer. Find your bard and win his heart. But you will have to do it as you had in this form. You won't have a voice. You have until the Winter Solstice to do so and if you fail, you will surrender your body, human and wolf alike, and become a snowdrift."

In the woods behind him, a howl tore through the air. It was answered by others, a mournful call, grief already settling onto the shoulders of his pack. Geralt turned back to the witch and paused only for a moment, looking down at her offerings.

"One is a potion you will take once you reach Oxenfurt. It will be easier on you to travel as a wolf than as a man. The second is simply your name. As sweet as the idea of him calling you Snowball is, I thought I would help you spare some dignity."

Geralt knew her to be a powerful witch, one who had helped the pack in the past and who only ever asked for assistance in return if she really needed it. What he had not expected was for her to be cheeky. He made a small sound in the front of his mouth. and their deal was struck.

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feverinfeveroutfic · 2 years

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chapter fifteen: sweet exists

It would in fact be a couple of days before Sam and Alex could in fact climb into the car and make the trip to some place within range of the city, much to their chagrin. The two of them had pitched their spots in each other’s living rooms during the week of finals and neither one of them could in fact see each other until the week was up. There were times during that final day of school in which Sam had taken her spot on her couch and she caught the sound of his front door closing against the quiet hum within the apartment building.

On the final day, both had returned home, one right after the other and with a feeling that they needed to rest that hung over their heads like a cloud. She set her things down and she lay down on the couch, and almost immediately she fell asleep. Sam slept for the rest of the afternoon: indeed, she had no idea Alex had come home until she awoke to the darkness over her apartment. She stood to her feet and she switched on the light: the golden light from the streetlamps outside of her kitchen window shone through the stained-glass piece Marla had given her.

Her eyes fixated on the fine lettering in particular and the way in which the light hit the glass for a moment, and then she turned to the front door. She peered out to the dim lit hallway and indeed, she caught a sliver of light from underneath Alex’s door. A smile crept across her face at the mere sight of it.

There was no way they could do their trip the next day but it would be more than worth it to rest and recharge the very next day, however.

On the morning of their trip, Sam awoke to the sound of Alex knocking on her door and she couldn’t resist the smile on her face once more. She ran a brush through her hair and she put on a sweatshirt before she answered the door. He had spritzed on a bit of cologne on the side of his neck and he wore that suede jacket that she had made for him.

“You sure you want to wear that?” she asked him with a bit of concern as he stepped into her apartment. “I think it might snow later on and I don’t really want to see it get ruined.”

“Nah, I don’t think it will,” he confessed with a wave of his hand, and he smoothed down his hair with that hand. The gray streak at the crown of his head seemed to have grown overnight: the roots were thick and a bold near white, almost as white as the dusting of snow outside of the building there, and given his hair was still rather thick even following up the cut, it almost seemed as though he had a band of snow across the top of his otherwise black head. His skin seemed a lot softer and clearer that morning, much to her surprise and the fluttering feeling in her chest. He showed her a thoughtful little smile and his cheekbones resembled to ripe little apples: paired with his little lips which made her think of ripe Rainier cherries, and there was a part of her that wanted to taste him again, just like that evening in the back room over in the Bay Area.

“What you thinking about?” he asked her in a little voice.

“Oh, just... things,” she replied with a small shrug, to which he squinted his eyes at her.

“Come on, Samantha—you can tell me anything, remember?”

“Of course. I just—don't really feel like telling, though.”

“Is it that important?” he asked her.

“I’m not too sure, to be perfectly honest with you, Alex.”

He bowed his head a bit and that in turn made his eyes appear deeper than usual. Sam shifted her weight: the scars inside of her leg and her ribcage all kept at bay at the mere sight of him. She thought of telling him her true feelings about him, but she couldn’t bring herself to it however.

“You look—really cute right now,” was all she could muster to him.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. You just look really cute. With the way your cheeks are all round and full, and the way your lips are a nice soft pink, the way your hair is riddled about your head... just so cute. Just a cute boy.”

“The streak will tell you otherwise, though,” he pointed out with a raise of his eyebrows.

“It kind of makes you timeless, like you weren’t born thirty years ago. You look ancient, actually, like you aren’t from an exact time period.”

“I am a traveler of both time and space,” he said in a voice that almost resembled to singing.

“Indeed, you are,” she replied, and then she rubbed her hands together. “Before we go, and before I get dressed—I think I know the answer to this, too—would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Please!” he declared, and he lifted his head in enthusiasm. She rubbed her hands together and loaded up her coffee maker for the both of them. As she left the kitchen, she caught a glimpse of the gray light outside as it filtered through the stained glass against the big window. The lights would in fact bring them home later that day, whenever it was that they came back.

A round of coffee and after she had gotten dressed, Sam then hoisted her purse and her handbag over her shoulder. Alex had doubled back to his place for his guitar case, and the two of them then put on their sunglasses in unison before they left the apartment. Once they stepped out the front door, they were met with the bright glare from the low snow banks that resided right outside of the building. A thin veil of gray haze spread across the sky: not thick and menacing enough to warrant more snow, but thin enough for the sun to peek through and give them the mother of all glares against their faces.

Once she unlocked the car, Alex held the driver’s side door for her.

“Why, thank you,” she told him with a smile on her face. He raised his eyebrows at her from behind his mirrored sunglasses. Once she had climbed into the car, she peered straight ahead to the narrow street before them to the apartment building up the way. She spotted Belinda’s car parked at the curb there, and she hoped that neither of them would be willing to visit them for the day. That whole day was going to be between the two of them and two of them only.

“Okay, so where should we go?” she asked him as he strapped himself into the passenger seat next to her.

“I don’t remember how far it is but—I kind of want to go to Hershey.”

“Pennsylvania?” she followed along.

“Yeah. I think you take the—Seventy-Eight all the way across Pennsylvania from Manhattan. You know, you just follow the signs.”

“How long have you lived here?” she asked him with a chuckle.

“Only a few months,” he replied with a chuckle himself. “I’m a de facto New Yorker, whaddya want.”

“And you just wanna go there ‘cause it’s the place of chocolate, don’t you,” she teased him, to which he shrugged his shoulders.

“I won’t deny it,” he confessed, and he nudged his mirrored lenses up the bridge of his nose.

“Just fill your little belly with all the decadent chocolate,” she kept going with it as she started up the car. They wound their way through the neighborhood, which also included a passing by the apartment building: she took a glimpse out her own window to those residential windows high above the street, and she wondered if everything was well in that little studio apartment in between Marla and Belinda.

Another twenty minutes, they reached the freeway and they hurtled along those four lanes towards the heart of Manhattan. Another lane change and they reached that highway in particular.

“Just a straight shot, you said?” she asked him.

“A straight shot—that's what I remember about it from the times Testament and Savatage toured out to Harrisburg.”

“I kind of remember this way, too,” she confessed. “When Stormtroopers went on tour all those years ago. It's kind of vague, but I do remember this a little tiny bit, though.”

They fell back into silence for a great length of time, however: and somewhere along the way, Alex had grown so silent that she assumed that he had dozed off. She took a glimpse over at him and his bowed head, and his hands tucked into this jacket pockets. She eyed the hem of his shirt as it rested against the top of the waistband of his jeans: even rested there in the passenger seat, he looked extra delicate than normal. He shuddered a bit, and right through her stray glimpses over to him, she yearned to see behind those mirrored lenses.

“You okay?” she finally asked him.

“Hm?” He raised his head and he gazed up at her like a prince.

“Are you okay? You look like something’s getting to you.”

“Oh, yeah. I'm just hungry is all—I didn’t eat anything before I came over to your place because it was still early.”

“We’ll get something to eat when we get to Hershey, though,” she vowed to him. “It’s about another hour until we get there.” Right then, a line of trees passed them and obscured some of the gray sunlight over their heads. He shifted his weight and opened up his jacket a little bit more, and he leaned forward with his hands pressed on his knees.

“I’m also feeling a little carsick,” he confessed.

“That’s never a good combo,” she said. He tilted his head back a bit to show off the curvature of his Adam’s apple and the slender shape of his neck: another glimpse over at him, and she caught a view of some fresh scruff on his skin. A part of her wanted to feel that short bristly hair on her lips, but she had to focus on driving them to the land of chocolate. He grimaced at the uneasy feeling inside of his stomach.

An hour away and yet she focused on the dark road before them. They stopped at a toll at one point and that allowed him to gather himself and feel a little more comfortable in that seat.

She paid attention to what he said before and she did in fact follow the signs all the way to the outskirts of that little town in question. More trees lined the far edge of town and she spotted some signs for some restaurants over there. She took the next exit off into the heart of town.

Through the trees, she spotted a pale white conical shape against the sheet of gray that was the sky. It loomed off in the distance like a sleeping monster. Given the landscape was mostly flat, she was able to see it from that far away, and thus, something about it made her shudder all the way down to the bone. Alex must have seen it himself because he stayed still long enough for Sam to assume what he was thinking. He then pointed out the windshield.

“Three Mile Island, Samantha,” he pointed out.

“That’s Three Mile Island over there?”

“Yeah. All I know is it’s closed off to the public and we can’t visit it.”

“And it’s a way off, too,” she replied.

“Oh, yeah, it’s twenty miles away,” he said. “The zone around Chernobyl is about that far and yet the mishap over here was a fraction of that. That's as far as I know, anyway.”

“It kind of—scares me, actually,” she said.

“Eh, it’s not gonna hurt us. I remember watching the report on TV when I was a kid and one of the things I recall from it was that no one died.”

They rolled up to a stoplight and the sun broke free from the veil of gray clouds over the sky, and Alex leaned forward in his seat again.

“Still feeling crappy?” she asked him.

“Oh, yeah. I'm like... starting to shake from it. I'm also really thirsty, too.”

Sam then nodded her head and they rolled up to a café on the next corner. Alex leaned back in his seat and let out a low whistle.

She picked up her purse and she rounded the front end of the car, and she helped him out of the passenger seat. Indeed, his legs shook like that of a newborn foal. She put her arm around him and led him to the door of the café, and she held the door for him. The place greeted them with a feeling of warmth and the fresh aroma of coffee and baked goods.

He took his seat there at the table against the wall and she took care of it all for him, between asking for glasses of water and another cup of coffee for the both of them.

“My friend over here is all shaky and stuff,” she told the barista. “Like, he’s about to collapse.” She then nodded her head at her, and handed her a pair of glasses of warm water right then and there. Sam headed back to the table and handed him the glass in her right hand. He raised his eyebrows at her as he took it for himself. She took her spot across the narrow stone table from him.

“This is how we do,” he declared as he raised his glass to her.

“This is how we in fact do,” she replied as she brought her glass up and they made a toast to each other. He downed the whole glass in four large gulps and he gazed on at her with his cherry lips parted a bit.

“Ooh, that’s better,” he declared.

“You already look better,” she told him. “You were looking kind of pale back there in the car.”

“I felt pale,” he confessed to her with a shifting of his weight in the chair and a sickly smile on his face.

“Now, for the million-dollar question,” she started again, albeit with a slight thought about Joey right then, “what would you like to eat? A muffin, or a scone, or—”

“Sandwich.”

“Sandwich?”

“Sandwich.”

“Oh, one of those croissant sandwiches!”

“Yeah, something with substance. I like a nice balance after all.”

“You Libra boys and your love of balance,” she teased him.

“Hey, you guys like some balance, too,” he pointed out.

“Which guys? Capricorn or Aquarius?”

“Both.”

“Aquarius, yes. Caps just plow forth no matter what the cost.”

“That’s Zelda to a T,” he said.

“That is undoubtedly Zelda,” she followed along, and she walked back over to the counter. Within time, they both had those ham and cheese croissant sandwiches and cups of fresh espresso.

“I feel like we’re gonna be eating a lot today,” he confessed as he took a sip from his espresso.

“We are,” she assured him with a little raise of her white bone china mug towards him.

Indeed, after breakfast, the two of them strolled along the sidewalk to the heart of town. Though it had snowed the night before and so soon to Christmas, it wasn’t as cold as Hell’s Kitchen. All the little boutiques within the pale brick buildings: indeed, they were all Sam could focus on as they took that little walk together. Dark red flags and streams of golden garlands were attached to the streetlamps: one shop even had a pair of statues of Santa Claus and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer outside of the storefront.

“Kinda grotesque looking,” Alex remarked: indeed, Santa’s carved wooden face had aged from the years spent there in the heart of Pennsylvania, to the point that the red paint on his suit had faded and began to chip away, and Rudolph’s antlers were extra scraggly, akin to tree branches. But his red nose shone bright under the wintry midday sun like the reddest of rubies from the basement of Three Mile Island.

“Did you bring your cane with you?” Alex asked her right then.

“I always do,” she replied as she adjusted the strap on her purse.

“I ask ‘cause you’re not limping as much as you used to,” he pointed out.

“I’m not limping but it still aches a tiny little bit every now and again,” she confessed, “especially when it’s cold out like this.” The two of them gazed on at Santa and Rudolph, and then she brought her attention to the window behind them. She recognized the freshly made Yule logs, all of which were complete with trappings like shaved coconut and fresh chocolate ganache, in the window sill as well as the sugar cookies straight out of the oven. She spotted those dark brown medallions closest to the front door, albeit with something more. Something dark brown and in the shape of elf hats.

“Looks like—chocolate chips on those ginger snaps there,” she heard someone in the bakery say aloud.

“Back up, chocolate ginger snaps?” Alex gaped at her.

“Chocolate ginger snaps, big guy!” she exclaimed. “Wanna come in here?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

And she giggled at that.

Indeed, she bought a raspberry and white chocolate Yule log for Marla and Belinda and some of those chocolate ginger snaps all for him.

The next place over, they tried out a series of bites of chocolate, and to the point in which he was enjoying it just a little too much. She lowered her gaze to his waist and the bottom hem of his shirt under the suede jacket. Something so endearing and lovely about a cute boy eating to his heart’s delight, and the things he was eating consisted of freshly made chocolate. Something so sweet about the whole thing.

Some more chocolate followed by cups of hot chocolate and they returned to the car to relax for a bit.

He leaned back in the seat and he peered out the window behind him. Sam reclined her seat back next to him for a look outside herself. She noticed he kept his hands folded over his stomach: that paired with the suede made him appear so soft in her eye. He looked a lot better from eating all of that chocolate and that healthy-sized breakfast.

“Hope you don’t doze off,” she told him.

“I won’t,” he vowed as he reached forth for his cup of hot chocolate. Alex lifted himself up a bit so he could better drink it down. “That big cup of espresso and all that chocolate—may have filled me up but it’s all caffeine, though. I ain’t falling asleep any time soon.”

Sam lay her head back down against the head rest and with one hand underneath her head. She thought about the times in which they came closer to each other, and she couldn’t believe that they were in fact close again right there in the safety of her own car. But they both had cups of hot chocolate involved: no way they could come closer to each other right then and there.

They drank down their hot chocolate for a few moments until he spoke again.

“Where do you think Marla and Belinda went to?”

“I have no clue,” she confessed. “When we get back home, let’s swing by their place and check it out. I haven’t seen them since then, either.”

“Absolutely.” He took another sip from his hot chocolate. “Just think this time next year, I'll be prepped and made ready for touring with the Orchestra. They’ve got to record their next album and I'm going to partake in it, and hopefully, by this time next year, it’ll be released to the world.”

“So what do they do exactly?”

“Trans-Siberian Orchestra? It's broken down into two wings, you’ve got the West Coast and the East Coast. It's like a collective of musicians that all tour together during Christmastime and into New Year’s. All the while, I’ll be doing the stuff for my degree and who knows what else.”

“Plenty of time to do whatever else,” she pointed out.

“Absolutely.”

“Like, model work?” she joked.

“Like model work, yes!” And they both laughed at that. They sipped on their hot chocolate again and Sam was about to suggest another walk about the block when the sun dipped behind some clouds, that time a thicker blanket of puffy dark gray clouds. All that told her was the snow loomed in the distance.

“Think it’s gonna snow?” she asked him.

“No doubt about it. I was just gonna suggest going up here to the corner and doing a music and art jam but we may have to wait until springtime comes.”

“Good plan.”

They both raised up their seats and she started up the car again. Indeed, it was nearly one-thirty at that point, and in turn they would return home to Hell’s Kitchen for dinner time. They would have to make another trip down to Hershey, and one which didn’t run the frivolous risk of Alex putting that lush suede in the line of heavy snow.

Indeed, once the Twin Towers appeared in their view against the darkening sky, Sam felt a slight relief that they had called time on it so soon. Though the day trip down to Hershey was brief, there was something rather satisfying about it, like a bite of chocolate. That right dose of sweet and any longer would have proven to be too much for the both of them. That, however, didn’t stop Alex from indulging in one of those chocolate ginger snaps as they crossed over into New York state.

Within time, the first little white flurries of snow fluttered down from the sky overhead, but they were within range of Hell’s Kitchen however.

They reached that neighborhood and Sam was eager to make her way into the building, not only to see Marla and Belinda after a time and bring them that cake but to keep Alex out of the weather. But at that point the flurries had stopped for a bit.

They reached their studio apartment on the third floor, and Belinda answered with a beaming smile on her face. Even though Sam hadn’t called beforehand, no doubt the two of them were more than overjoyed to see Sam and Alex.

“We just got here from Hershey,” the former explained as she handed Belinda the Yule log.

“Oh, thank you—Hershey!” she declared. “We were there a little while ago. You know, when she got out of therapy and I took her on a trip and we just got in the car and went wherever. That was where we went, down there in the woods.”

“Really?” Alex knitted his eyebrows at that. Marla, who stayed seated on the couch even as the two of them stepped inside for a moment, lifted her gaze from the book plunked across her lap and she showed Sam and Alex a little smile. It was rather small, but the two of them could in fact see it for themselves. The color in her hair shone bright under the golden light of the lamp behind her.

“Indeed, we were,” she replied. The door hung ajar, and thus a couple of voices floated into the apartment. Alex turned his attention to the door and he poked his head out to the hall for a second. And then he nodded at someone there.

“Hey!” Alex called out to someone in the hallway. Belinda looked on at the cake with a twinkle in her eye and she eagerly carried it into the kitchen, which in turn allowed Sam and Marla to reconnect with each other.

“You guys went down to Hershey?” the former asked her; Sam then took her spot on the arm of the couch even though there was plenty of room on the cushions for the both of them.

“We actually went over to Harrisburg and on the way, I saw the cooling towers at Three Mile Island off in the distance. Those spooky off-white cooling towers lined with those amber lights, the thought of things going wrong when they shouldn’t have, the thought of nuclear power—something so powerful and clean—being thwarted and covered by the swipe of a human hand...” Marla’s voice trailed off a bit, and then she lifted the book for Sam to see: a beginner’s guide on nuclear chemistry and biology. “Everyone down in Harrisburg told us we couldn’t go to it, but I was just fascinated by it. Bel and I got to talking and when we got to the center of downtown, we went into a bookstore and we checked out some books about science and history. I'm in love, Sam. I think, if nothing else, I’ll make nuclear science my hobby next to my art.”

“That’d be hell of a hobby, too,” Sam pointed out. “Nice balance of both worlds, too.”

“Exactly! That's what Bel told me, too. It's a balance of art and science. Something I feel like I’ve been missing most of my adult life. She and I both remember my doing well in science class in school, so figure I ran with that when we went down there to Harrisburg.”

Alex’s big voice with another man’s voice caught their attention right then, especially since they were right outside of the door.

“Hang on a second,” Sam told her, and she stood to her feet to see what was going on. Alex stood before a bearded man about his height with short sandy hair and a heavy corduroy jacket around his body. Alex’s face lit up at the sight of her.

“Ah, Samantha! I want you to meet someone. This is Nathan. He sits next to me in class and he recognized me from Testament. We started jamming together and we were talking just now. You know how I mentioned that Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s touring schedule is kind of—confined to the end of the year? Well, we’ve decided to form a little something come the New Millennium.”

“You guys were passing notes to each other while in class and you decided to have a play date?” she teased them, much to their laughter.

“A play date, yes,” Nathan laughed along with her, and Sam gaped back and forth at the two men.

“Alexander Nathan with Nathan Peck. Huh. Doesn't seem confusing to me at all.”

Both men burst out laughing at that.

“Hey, at least it’s not the Dans or the Johns,” Belinda joined in from the doorway. “Who wants cake?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Alex cracked right then; he then brought his attention back to Sam. “Doesn’t sound like diabetes to me at all.”

“Come on, live a little!” Nathan encouraged him.

“Yeah, we’re on vacation!” Belinda added.

“Even if we aren’t on vacation, we should still live a little,” Sam pointed out.

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