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cassiabaggins · 4 years

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An Extra Burglar Chapter Eight: Thunder Battle

A/N: I actually finished a chapter in a timely manner?!?!? WHAAAAT?!?! Who is she??? Anyway, get ready for some fluff and headcanon treated as canon and also please reblog and leave a comment if you can! Thanks in advance!

Warnings: gratuitous fluff, canon typical violence

Rating: T

Word Count: 4242 (I know I said this chapter would be shorter but boy, was I wrong!)

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Tags: @demigoddesofchimichangagod @pistachiozombie @swoopswishsward @d3-iseefire @moony-artnstuff @legolasesboo522 @sage-willow-raven @underthemoon-n @legolaslovely

The morning after next, they are leaving. Fíli is healed, and Thorin has had his map read, and they leave Rivendell in the grey light of early morning, when Cassia still has bleary eyes and is yawning fit to crack her jaw in half.

"Be on your guard," Thorin calls back, pausing on an outcropping, "we are about to step over the edge of the wild. Balin, you know these paths, lead on."

They're nearly out of the Valley when the sunlight streams down on the Last Homely House, and Bilbo pauses to look back wistfully. Cassia almost waits for her brother, but Fíli passes her by and she hurries after him, taking his proffered hand for help over a particularly difficult bit.

"Master Baggins," Thorin says, "I suggest you keep up."

Cassia turns back to see the dwarf sigh and shake his head about her brother, and she stumbles over a rock. Fíli steadies her.

"Easy," he says softly, and she turns back to smile at him. He returns it, and for some odd reason, her heart skips a beat. Not in a bad way, but with a little leap and flutter of joy. How odd.

They travel deep into the mountains, and as they travel, the weather gets colder. Cassia’s heart continues to do odd things whenever Fíli is nearby, often accompanied with butterflies in her stomach and her cheeks tingling. She also begins to wish she had brought warmer clothes.

“Are you all right?” Fíli asks her one afternoon. She tries to wrap her coat tighter around herself and looks up at him. He’s frowning at her, and goosebumps prickle on the back of her neck.

“I’m cold ,” she complains, shivering. “And I can’t seem to catch my breath.”

“Aye,” Bofur says, setting his hat on her head, “That’ll be the altitude. You’ll get used to it.”

“Am I going to get used to the cold?” Cassia asks.

“Probably not,” Fíli says. He sets down his pack and pulls out his blanket. “Here.” He wraps it around her like a cloak and tucks the ends into her belt. “There we go. Better?”

The blanket smells like fresh air and pipesmoke and Fíli, and it’s blessedly warm. She nods. “Better.”

He smiles at her. “Good.”

“Fíli!” Thorin calls. “Up here with me!”

Fíli leaves somewhat reluctantly, falling in step with his uncle. Kíli starts telling Cassia some silly story from his childhood as they walk. She’s not listening, thinking of Fíli and his soft eyes and warm smile and how strong he is, how caring. She draws the edge of the blanket up to her nose, pretending to warm it, but truly, she’s taking in the smell of the cloth again. She peeks up, and freezes, spotting a spider slowly descending on a silk before her. She stops breathing.

Kíli turns, noticing she isn’t beside him anymore. “Cassia?”

She shudders.

“What’s wrong?”

She points at the spider with a trembling hand. “Sp-sp-sp-” she stutters, shivering. Kíli goes cross eyed looking at it.

“Spider?” he finishes for her, raising an eyebrow. “Are you afraid of this spider?” He laughs, and gently blows on it, so it sways. It falls off it’s string and plops on the ground, skittering toward her. Cassia screams, and throws herself into the arms of the nearest dwarf, who happens to be Bofur.

“What’s wrong, lass?” He asks good-naturedly, not at all miffed over being climbed like a tree.

“She saw a spider,” Kíli laughs. “Really, Cassia? You can face trolls and orcs, but a spider is what makes you cry?”

Cassia doesn’t respond, hiding her face in Bofur’s shoulder.

“She’s terrified of spiders,” Bilbo says. “She always has been.”

“Kill it!!!” Cassia wails, holding tightly to Bofur and hiding her face in his shoulder.

“Aye, Kíli,” Bofur says, “Don’t torture the lass.”

“What’s wrong?” Fíli asks. He must have dropped back when he heard her yell. “Cassia?”

“She saw a spider,” Bilbo says. “She’s terrified of them.”

“Of spiders?” Fíli mumbles, and she can almost see the way his mustache must be twitching with a barely concealed smile.

“It’s not funny!” She wails. She feels utterly ashamed. Now he’ll think she is silly and pathetic and weak and...

“I wasn’t saying it was,” he says soothingly. “It’s gone anyway, so you can come down.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

She peeks over at him and he gives her a soft, encouraging smile. There's no trace of mockery in his face and that’s enough for her, so she climbs out of Bofur’s arms, feeling foolish. “Sorry,” she says, handing him his hat back.

“Don’t let it worry you, lass,” he replies comfortingly, patting her shoulder and smiling at her.

“You better not be laughing at me, Kíli,” Cassia says. Her friend is grinning at her, his brown eyes dancing mischievously. She fixes him with a fierce glare, and all he does is snicker.

“I’m not,” he says, clearly lying. “But… spiders?”

“They’re horrid!” she shivers. “They’ve far too many legs and eyes to be respectable, and sometimes,” she shudders again. “They’re hairy! I despise the hairy ones, they’re the worst!”

“When have you ever cared about respectability?” her brother asks wryly.

“Fíli’s hairy,” Kíli butts in. The blond brother begins to stroke his beard proudly. “Does that mean you despise him?”

Fíli drops his hand, looking miffed, and shoots his brother a glare.

“No,” Cassia laughs (she could never hate Fíli), “Fíli has the respectable number of legs. And eyes.” She reaches up and pats his cheek with joking comfort. His beard is a strange combination of soft and prickly beneath her fingers. “Don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried,” he scoffs, pushing off her hand.

“You looked worried,” Kíli teases.

“Aw, Fíli,” Cassia clasps her hands beneath her chin and flutters her eyelash at him. “I had no idea you held my opinion in such high regard!”

“Oh, aye,” his brother laughs, “ very high regard.”

She frowns, realizing that she’s missing some joke between the two brothers, and looks back and forth from one to the other. Kíli is beaming at his brother, waggling his eyebrows, and Fíli is glaring right back at him.

“What am I missing?” Cassia asks. Kíli snickers, but Fíli just shakes his head at her.

“It’s nothing, Cassia.”

“But—”

“Really,” Fíli says, somewhat angrily, “It’s nothing.” Kíli makes a noise that sounds like a cut off laugh.

“It’s something,” he mutters, “It’s definitely something!”

“What am I missing?” She queries again, beginning to feel annoyed. Fíli shakes his head and moves ahead and away from them, leaving his younger brother laughing away.

Later that night, Cassia struggles to fall asleep. She’s cold, and, as Fíli said earlier, she hasn’t gotten used to it. She curls up in the fetal position and shuts her eyes tight, counting sheep. After struggling with slumber for about an hour, she finally manages to drop off, but awakens again sometime later with a backache, from something hard digging into her lower spine, and rolls over with a soft groan. She notices, vaguely, as she moves, that she’s quite a bit warmer now than she was a few hours ago, and wonders at that.

Fíli is on watch, near the edge of the camp and circling around them in patrol. She watches him for a moment as he finishes his rounds and sits down on a log, facing away from the fire. Finally, her discomfort becomes too much and she sits up, noticing that there’s a second blanket draped over her. She recognizes it as belonging to Fíli. That explains her extra warmth at least.

The owner of the blanket is busy playing with some sort of small trinket, flipping it along his knuckles, and doesn’t notice her come up behind him until she drapes his blanket back over his shoulders. He jumps a little, startled, and drops whatever he had been fidgeting with.

“Oh, sorry,” she says with a soft laugh, as he turns to stare at her with wide eyes, clutching at the edges of the blanket.

“How do you move so quietly ?” he asks.

“Magic,” she teases, climbing over the log and sliding down to sit beside him.

“Hilarious,” he responds drily, picking up what he had dropped. Cassia notices that it is a knife, a tiny one with a triangular blade.

“What’s that?” She asks.

“A knife.”

She scoffs. “Clearly. I’ve never seen one that looks like that.”

He smiles softly. “It’s a push dagger.” He places the handle in his fingers so that the blade is poking out between his two middle fingers. “You hold it like this. It’s something of a last resort.” He mimes throwing a punch, and Cassia notices runes along the blade when it shines in the firelight.

“Oh,” she says. “That makes sense. What do the runes say?”

“Innikh dê,” he replies, placing the blade on his palm so she can see it better. The dwarvish is harsh and guttural on his tongue, but spoken with ease, as if known from birth. “'Return to me',” he translates.

For some reason that leaves a pit in Cassia’s stomach. This small knife seems like something a sweetheart would give him. But he’s never mentioned anyone.

“My mother gave it to me,” he continues, and her heart leaps. “She worries.”

“Of course she does,” Cassia murmurs. “She’s your mother.”

“She didn’t want Kíli and I to come,” Fíli explains. “But Thorin insisted I come as I’m his heir. And Kíli refused to be left behind. Rhís was awfully mad when she found out.”

“Rhís?” her stomach plummets again. He’s mentioned this ‘Rhís’ before, and Cassia wonders briefly why the idea of him having a dwarven lass waiting for him to come back is so upsetting to her.

“Aye. My little sister.”

“You have a sister?!” This new revelation completely wipes all other thoughts from her mind. Fíli laughs.

“Have I really never mentioned her?”

“No, you have! I just never realized she was your sister!”

He laughs again. “Aye, she’s twelve years younger than me. Uncle forbade her from coming with us. There was a huge fight. She’s somewhat of a brat, being the youngest and the only girl, y’see, and thought she deserved to go, but Uncle and Amad both put their foot down, since she won’t be of age for another five years.”

“I bet she wasn’t happy about that.”

“Like I said, she was furious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so mad.” He frowns, turning the knife over in his hands a few times, before pulling his leg up and tucking it into a hidden pocket inside his boot. “It… wasn’t pleasant. I don’t like it when my family fights.”

“I can imagine,” she says, pulling her knees up to her chest and peeking over at him. There’s a wrinkle between his eyebrows due to his frown, and she wants to reach over and smooth it out with her fingers. “No one likes fighting with their family.”

He offers her a small smile. “Amad told me to watch out for Kíli because she was convinced he would do something reckless and get hurt. I wonder what she’ll say when she finds out I got hurt first.”

“Probably forbid us from ever seeing each other again,” Cassia murmurs, feeling the familiar pang of guilt, and looks down. But not only that, the idea of never seeing Fíli again makes her feel almost sick.

Fíli sighs. “You know, I thought we’d reached the point where we could joke about it.”

“Fíli!” She jerks her head up to glare at him and he laughs softly, nudging her with his shoulder.

“C’mon, it’s a little bit funny.”

“How?”

“I’m meant to be the responsible one, by rights. I’m the older brother, but—" he waves his left arm at her, the one that had been broken. “Sorry, Amad.”

“Well,” Cassia says jokingly, “We’ve a long journey ahead of us, so Kíli still has a chance to get shot by an orcish arrow or something of that like.”

Fíli laughs again. “You have a very good point. And perhaps, you’ll get bitten by a giant spider.”

She shudders. “Can you imagine? How awful!”

“Don’t worry,” he promises, “I’d step on it for you.”

“My hero,” she giggles, her heart swelling happily at that. A gust of wind blows over them and she shivers, the flames behind them sputtering from it. Beside her, Fíli shifts and drapes his blanket back over her shoulders.

“I gave you this for a reason,” he says softly, standing up.

“But aren’t you cold?” she asks, turning around and scrambling up to sit one the log they had been leaning against.

“No,” he responds, picking up a couple of logs and crouching down to feed them to the dying fire. The flames flare, bathing his face in orange light. He stokes the fire for a few moments, and she studies his profile. He’s handsome. She hadn’t thought it before, partially because he’s handsome in a way that is entirely different than what she’s used to. She likes his long nose and his beard and the way his lips curve in a smile. She very much likes his lips. An image of him kissing her with those very pretty lips flashes through her mind and she blushes, her heart racing.

“Dwarves run warmer than the other races,” he continues. He looks over at her and smiles, resting his elbows on his knees. “Besides, we can’t have one of our burglars freezing solid!”

Cassia pulls the edges of the two blankets closer around her and returns his smile, biting her bottom lip and feeling her heart race even faster. She is much warmer like this.

Eventually, Fíli finishes tending to the fire and returns to his seat beside her.

“You should go back to sleep,” he says.

“I think I’d rather sit here with you,” she responds, moving closer to him. “You’re warm, you see.” And he is--almost like a living furnace.

“I’m happy to be of service.” He casually slides his arm around her waist, resting his hand on the log beside her hip. It’s a strictly friendly gesture, but it still has goosebumps running up her spine and her heart thudding out of control.

“Tell me about your family,” she murmurs, resting her head against his shoulder.

“What would you like to know?”

“I don’t know. Tell me about your mother. What is she like?”

“Well,” he says slowly, and begins describing lady Dis. How brave she is, and how she practically raised Fíli and his siblings on her own after their father had died. His voice is soft and gentle and soporific, and one moment, Cassia is listening to Fíli describe how his mother was both a master with a sword and a crack shot with a bow, and the next, drizzling rain and the sound of the dwarves beginning to move about awakens her. She’s curled up in a quite comfortable bed of dried grasses, and upon sitting up, she realizes that she’s on Fíli’s bedroll.

“How’d I get here?” she mumbles.

“Fíli laid you there after he woke me up for watch!” Kíli informs her brightly, seeming far too chipper for the dreary morning. He’s rolling up his own bedroll, which is beside her. “Your things are on the other side of you,” he adds.

Cassia turns her head to see her bag leaning against a rock beside her, neatly packed up. She shakes her head, knowing Fíli had done that, too, and starts gathering up his things for him.

“You don’t have to do that,” The blond dwarf says, coming over to her.

She hands him his perfectly rolled bedroll. “Think of it as a thank you. And sorry I fell asleep on you last night.”

He takes it from her with a bright smile. “Trust me, it’s fine.”

The rain continues for the rest of the day, and near evening, intensifies to a downpour. They're edging their way along a narrow cliff when it whips into a proper thunderstorm, thunder crashing overhead. Cassia and Bilbo are between Fíli and Kíli, and more than once either she or her brother almost fall, the stones slippery beneath their feet.

Fíli is steadying her after one of these stumbles, when Dwalin roars, "Look out!!!"

Cassia whips her head up and spots a gigantic boulder sailing through the air, lit by the near constant flashes of lightning. It smashes against the stone face above them, and seems to shake the whole mountain. They press back against the stone as an avalanche of stones pour down.

“This is no thunderstorm!” Balin calls, “it's a thunderbattle!!! Look!”

She can only gape as a massive stone giant appears between lightning flashes, tearing a gigantic boulder from a mountaintop and hurling it toward them.

“Well bless me!” Bofur steps forward in awe, staring, “The legends are true! Giants! Stone giants!”

“Take cover, you fool!” Thorin yells back at him, and Kíli yanks Bofur back under cover.

Suddenly, the whole world seems to lurch . Fíli grabs her around the waist, and Bilbo stumbles away from her, a crack in the stone widening between them.

“Bilbo!” She screams as Kíli yanks him back so he doesn’t fall.

“Kíli!” Fíli shouts, reaching out to his brother, still holding her with one arm, “grab my hand!” But it's no use, and Cassia has to pull him back against the rocks as he nearly falls into the widening chasm. Through the rain, they glimpse Kíli and Bilbo’s wide, terrified eyes as they’re swept apart and Cassia realizes with a sick feeling that the mountain they are on is a giant as well. Or perhaps the sick feeling is coming from the movement of the giant rising to its feet. Her breath catches in her throat and she grips the belt across Fíli’s chest with one hand and scrabbles at the rocks before her for a hold with the other.

The stone giant slams against the next mountain and Cassia watches through the rain as that half of the company scrambles to safety. She doesn't know if her brother is safe, because the world is tilting and swinging again, but the whole time, Fíli’s arm is tight around her waist, keeping her steady. She doesn’t even scream, her teeth clenched tight enough that her jaw pops, and watches as they barrel toward the unforgiving stone of the mountain. Fíli shifts and places his body between her and their rapidly approaching doom, as if he can shield her, and her heart brims full with love for him and that ridiculous, pointless, selfless action. They’re going to die here, and she’s just realized she’s in love with him.

The impact shakes her bones.

Disoriented, she feels Fíli yank her forward off the ledge, his hand around hers and she shrieks, pulling away from him, thinking he’s dragging her to a fall off the cliff. So really, it’s her fault she nearly dies, because there is no ground beneath her, and no Fíli to grab on to, and she falls .

Her grasping hands catch onto a slippery rock and she holds on with all her might. She can see the dwarves a meter or so above her on a ledge, but she’s too scared to cry for help, too scared to even breathe.

"Where's my sister?!" Bilbo shouts.

"Cassia!" Fíli yells and throws himself halfway off the ledge. Someone drags him back but he spots her, and shakes them off. “Cassia!” He shouts, extending his hand to her, hanging perilously over the drop. “Grab on to me!”

She can’t! Doesn’t he know that if she lets go, even with one hand, she’ll surely fall? Fíli is dragged back again, before she can work up the courage to reach for him, and he tries to fight them off. “No! Thorin! Let go!” He yells, “She’s still down there! She’s right there! She needs me!”

Oh, she thinks, utterly irrationally, oh, they’re going to leave me here .

Then Thorin's dropping down beside her and practically throwing her back up to safety, into Fíli's arms. He grabs her and they tumble back in a heap against the stone wall, his arms tight around her. Cassia is shaking, and she tries to cuddle closer to him, feeling safe in his arms. She feels her brother gently touch her shoulder and then hug her from behind, and she turns to cling to him, too. He’s shaking just as bad as she is.

“I thought I'd lost you,” Bilbo says, holding her tightly. Fíli releases her and her brother pulls her tighter into a hug. She curls up against him like she used to do when she was little and thought he could shield her from all the bad in the world.

“She's been lost ever since she left home,” Thorin says contemptuously. “You both have. You never should have come. You have no place amongst us.” He brushes past the two siblings, pushing them back against the rock.

Bilbo makes a face he only reserves for the rudest of relatives and squeezes Cassia tighter.

“He's doesn't mean that,” Fíli says, not really sounding like he means it. “He's just worried.”

“He's not completely wrong,” Bilbo mumbles, but Fíli doesn't hear him.

Thorin sends Fíli and Kíli away to look for shelter and Cassia and Bilbo huddle close together, a little apart from the others.

"We never should have come," Bilbo says softly. Cassia shivers in reply, and he rubs her shoulders. "We can go back," he says. "Please, Cassia, let's go back to Rivendell where it's safe."

She shakes her head. "I can't," she says.

"What do you mean, you can't?" Bilbo asks. She rubs her arms and looks into the rain, the direction Fíli and Kíli had left to search for shelter.

"Because we promised," she says.

"That's not it," he replies.

"What?"

"That's not your reason for staying, is it?"

Cassia turns to look at him. "I…" she starts, then sighs, looking around to make sure no one is listening in. "I can't go because I love them," she says. "Back home I was always the odd one out. Too Tookish for a Baggins, to Bagginsy for a Took and too Took-Baggins for a Brandybuck. Too wild to care about too long, not worth marrying, too troublesome, too flighty. Even the boy I loved, who I thought loved me, found someone else, and didn't even bother to tell me. But not these dwarves. With them, I feel special and worth listening to. Worth facing trolls and orcs and unfathomable depths for. They make me laugh, and he holds me when I'm scared and—"

"'He'?" Bilbo interrupts. "Sounds to me like you're speaking of one dwarf in particular."

Cassia flounders for a moment, her face reddening. "I, uh…"

"It's Fíli, isn't it?"

She blushes and nods, looking down at her hands. "I think… I think I love him.” She bites her lip, preparing for Bilbo to yell at her, but it never comes. Instead, he snorts.

“So you finally figured it out?”

Cassia looks up at him and frowns. “What?”

He smiles at her, knocking her shoulder with his. “I’ve known you all your life, Cassia, I know how you act when you like someone.”

“You aren’t mad at me?”

He laughs softly. “No. But I did say that you’d probably end up marrying a dwarf if I let you come on this adventure, didn’t I?”

Cassia’s face flames red. “Hold on! Who said anything about marriage?!”

Bilbo just laughs.

Before long, Fíli and Kíli return and lead them to a large cave. It’s blessedly dry, with a sandy floor. “Search to the back,” Thorin instructs, “Caves in the mountains are seldom unoccupied.”

But it’s empty, and they all drop their packs and shake out wet things.

“All right,” Gloin declares, “let’s get a fire going!” But their leader stops him.

“Not here,” the dwarf king says, “not in this place.”

“Is he trying to get us to freeze?” Cassia murmurs sullenly to her brother and Fíli who are nearby. Bilbo lets out a soft huff of laughter, but Fíli wordlessly takes her hands in his, rubbing them to warm them and blows on her fingers a few times, looking at her over their joined hands.

“Are you all right?” He asks her softly. “Your hands are all cut up.”

She looks down at her palms, wincing slightly. She’s only just noticed the pain, and is glad of it. It distracts her from him . “I’ll live,” she says, and he nods, stepping forward, leaning his head down toward her. For one, wild minute, she thinks he’s going to kiss her, but instead, he gently presses his forehead against hers.

“Stay close to me,” He murmurs, his eyes burning into hers. “So I can protect you.”

Cassia nods, her heart pounding from his closeness. “I will.”

By staying close to him, he means at night too, she realizes, when he sets up his bedroll right beside hers. She’s thankful for it, especially when he lays back to back with her, warming her up. Despite his warmth, she still has nightmares, dreaming of falling off cliffs and plunging into icy, rushing water being the most prominent images. She’s imagining plummeting off a mountain when Thorin's shout startles her into wakefulness. She flounders, half asleep, Fíli sitting up beside her, when suddenly, the ground beneath her vanishes, and she’s falling once more. Only this time, it is no dream and there is no cliff to grab.

#fili x oc #the hobbit fanfiction #fili #kili #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #fili fanfiction #oc x canon #my writing #an extra burglar #cassia baggins

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draakin · 7 years

Note

five times + king garon***

five times | accepting!

Under the cut for length!

1. When he took her hand with the blood of her father still on it, she was shaking. He pulled her to her feet, bare and cold against the stone of the Chevois street, and said to her, “Let us go home.” He barked something at his men and took off his cape. He wrapped it around her shoulders – she remembers it being very heavy on her small frame – and picked her up. Carrying her like a babe, he rocked her gently as she whimpered and sniveled. “Do not cry, child,” he rumbled. A clawed finger wiped a tear from her cheek. “This may be difficult for you now, but you will grow and learn. And you will be stronger than a god.” He peered down at her, and she could see something in his eyes that she couldn’t place until much later in her life.

2. Ganglari quivered in her hand as her father ordered her to kill the Hoshidan captives. She shook her head. “I will not. I cannot. What glory is there in killing innocents?” Perhaps her fearlessness came from her isolation; she did not know the truth of her father’s wrath.“You dare defy me, girl?!” he roared. His voice made her siblings wince, even Xander, the strongest person she knew. It made her angry that he could treat his own flesh and blood this way. She grit her teeth.“Father, please forgive Kamui, she does not yet understand–”“Silence! If Kamui will not kill them, then you must. And if she gets in your way… kill her too.”For many nights she wondered. How could the man who called her daughter have no qualms ordering her killed? Was this the cruelness that her siblings wished to protect her from?“No,” she murmured, unclipping her armour. “There is no need for them to protect me from anything. I am strong enough to face Father’s wrath on my own.”

3. She watched as her Father’s form melted away, turned into a hideous monster. Shaking her head, she looked at Azura, wanting answers. “How?! How is this possible? The man I call Father–”“The man you call father does not exist any longer,” Azura said quietly. “I suspected it when we were in Cyrkensia, which is why I performed my song… but it did not have the desired effect.”“What are you talking about?” Kamui asked, voice quiet. She could no longer look at the songstress, her gaze fixed on the grass, her fists shaking at her sides.“It is a song meant to purify. But… it did not do anything beyond anger King Garon. He is not the man he was… and he is beyond saving. If you wish to end this war, you must–”“No.” She met Azura’s gaze steadily. “I cannot kill my Father. He is… My siblings. What will they say?”“You cannot tell them, nor anyone else. And we must not speak of it when we are near others. It could prove fatal.”Kamui chuckled darkly. “I am responsible for the death of my mother and my father… must I kill my adoptive father, as well?”Azura nodded. “I am sorry, Kamui. But… if you truly desire the peace you speak of…”“… it must be done.” Kamui nodded. “I know, Azura. Thank you.”

4. Bubbles poured off of him, his black ooze giving way to his human form. He wheezed, stumbling forward. He used Bölverk for support, leaning on it heavily. “Children…” he managed to say. He fell to his knees. The siblings did not move, though Kamui heard their breath hitch in their throats. She stepped closer to him.“Father…” It hurt her to say it, but… it would be unfair to address him as Garon now.He chuckled. “Kamui… you are a lot stronger… than the day I met you.”“I have done what I promised to do,” she responded, kneeling to be at eye level. “I have set you free. Perhaps… now you can be at peace.”“I only wish…” He was beginning to shimmer now, barely clinging to the fabric of their world. “… that I had not brought upon you this suffering.” He looked at his children, and Kamui saw a tear roll down his cheek. “My children… forgive me. I was not the father you deserved. I… love all of you.” His form dissipated in a swirl of bubbles and Kamui rose to her feet, watching them vanish into the air.“Goodbye, Father,” she whispered. “I wish… I could have known the real you.”

5. Takumi’s arrow burned her flesh, and she screamed. Seeing white, she felt the ground under her knees. No, I must… go on. I cannot fall here… Another searing blow to her chest and she was on her back, writhing in agony. No!The white gave way to black, and she heard her mother’s voice, beckoning her to awaken.Opening her eyes to see Mikoto standing over her, she sat up, cheerful. “Good morning, Mother! Did I sleep in again?”Her mother laughed lightly. “Yes, starshine. And you’ve kept your brother waiting.” She paused, turning her head as Ryoma entered the room.“Did you sleep in again, Kamui?” he joked, coming in and crossing his arms. “We were going to practice your defensive skills today, and you can hardly do that if you’re in here sleeping.”Kamui laughed. “I’m sorry, Ryoma. But… I had the strangest dream.” She furrowed her brow, trying to remember.Mikoto and Ryoma nodded.“I… couldn’t find either of you. I searched and searched… but… “ She gasped, hurrying to her feet. “Wait–”“So you remember,” Ryoma said.The room peeled away in a flurry of cherry blossoms. It revealed a wide, open field. Startled, Kamui reached for the hilt of Yato, but it was gone.“What’s going on? Where am I?” Kamui asked.“Do not be frightened, my child,” Mikoto said. “You have been brought to a safe place, so that your spirit can be safe.”Ryoma turned, looking behind him. “There are those who wish to speak with you.”She peered around him to see two figures approaching.Takumi, with the Fuujin Yumi at his side. He was the shorter of the two figures, a fact that was evidently bothering him, judging by the frown on his face. The other…“Just as I commend you for your strength, you fall,” Garon rumbled. He looked younger than she remembered, the sallow skin of his face replaced with vibrant flesh. His hair, which had been white, was now the colour of straw, and he had a twinkle in his eyes she’d never seen before.“Father, Takumi!” she called. She rushed to meet them. “Am I…?”“Dead, yeah,” Takumi scoffed. He took a step closer, holding out the Fuujin Yumi. “But we’ve come to help you out.”“Takumi… you’re out there. How can you be here?”“He has become as I was… a shell, controlled by a darker power,” Garon replied. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. “But do not fear, child. You still have hope.”“How? How can I hope?” Kamui felt the sting of tears. “The Yato… has been destroyed. I fear my dragon form… and my comrades… my friends…”“Don’t cry,” Takumi said, not unkindly. “Why do you think I’m here?” Before she could answer, he said, “To help out, obviously. You can’t do anything without help, can you?”Garon laughed, a sound Kamui had never heard in this way before. “You are a prickly one, aren’t you?”“Shut up, old man,” Takumi grumbled. “I wasn’t talking to you, I was talking… to my sister.”Kamui looked up, grateful. “Takumi…”“Don’t make me say it again,” he said, gesturing with his other hand to the Fuujin Yumi. “Take my Fuujin Yumi. I’m sure it will help you find your Yato.”“Your friends need you, starshine,” Mikoto said, coming to stand with them, Ryoma close behind. She gave her daughter a hug. “We believe in you.”“Remember what I said, Kamui?” Ryoma smiled. “I’m counting on you. You can bring a peace to our world… but not from here!”Kamui wiped her tears away. That’s right… they were counting on her. “Mother, Father… Ryoma, Takumi… I promise to end this. For all of you.”She took hold of Fuujin’s shaft, hands firm. “I will see that your sacrifices were not in vain… I swear it!”

#valliteprince #♛ [ ᴀ ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ? ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ? : mail ]#( hi my name is luci and i love to suffer :^) )#♛ [ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀs ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅ : writing ]

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cranesmuir-witch · 7 years

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The Fear of Forgetting - Chapter 2

The task of cleaning the mess completed downstairs, it was time to get the once derailed morning underway. A very focused Faith stood facing her open armoire in a clean shift rhythmically tapping her feet on the wooden floor. She ran her hands over the folded fabrics, concentrating on selecting the right one. Her deft fingers searched the necklines for the stitched letters her mother and aunt had meticulously sewn into them to spell out the color for her. The texture of the cloth was also an invaluable clue to her - if it was smooth, light, and delicate it was silk, good for Lallybroch’s formal occasions. Prickly, rough, and weighted meant wool - her beloved forbidden Fraser arisaid with stag brooch that kept out the cold, or her favorite autumnal skirt with rose applique. What she needed now, though, was one of her simple linen dresses, an apron, as well as her shawl for the busy day ahead. The one marked blue would be the right choice, she surmised considering what lay before her. Mam had promised, after their earlier argument, to take some time out of her schedule for a long overdue discussion.

Of course chores needed to be done first before any of that could happen since there was a farm to be run and tenants to be taken care of. The whole family had their own area of responsibility from her father down to her Aunt Jenny’s youngest who fed the chickens and gathered their eggs. It had been her task a few years back, but now that she was almost a young lady she and her sister were charged with the feeding and care of the other barn animals. Her train of memories sparked something she had said, but forgotten -- she needed to milk the cows first. She had told Mrs. Crook she would help her churn butter in preparation for the family dinner the following night. If she were going to convince her mam she was growing up she knew she had to keep her obligations. She groaned as she struggled to pull her dress on, then grabbed her shawl as she headed to the stairs.

“Brianna!” Faith called as she ran. “Ye ken we need t’ be milkin’ the coos, s’ quit hidin’ in Da’s study. And bring me th’ boots yer tryin’ t’ hide. Yer a pitiful sneak piuthrag!” A slowly building giggle echoed through the second floor and down to the first, the younger girl confirming her hiding place. “If th’ chores ‘r unfinished at midday, Da will no’ be pleased with us.”

“And I won’t be terribly happy either!” declared their mother, at the base of the stairs. “So, if the both of you are not out in the barn in about two minutes I’m going to set your Aunt Jenny on you!”

Bree quickly scrambled from her hiding place, clumsily stomping as she went. As she began to overtake her sister she stopped to help her put her own boots on. Faith audibly protested but her sister stood firm by replying additionally with her own demurring sound. Only two years apart, they were very close and often communicated with subtle touches or sounds. In some ways they were more like twins since Faith had to relearn how to do all the things Brianna was just learning as an infant. They trusted each other implicitly but then also argue loud enough to raise the rafters even while protecting each other. Claire and Jamie fostered their steadfastness, knowing that after they were gone their children would be there to take over as caretaker to each other.

“Faith, why do ye always fight me?” Bree hissed. “I jus’ wan’ to get back to readin’ a book Da is helpin’ me with. French is no’ so easy for me to ken, like it is for ye.”

Faith laughed as they linked hands, walking the last of the stairs and out of the house. Languages were easy for her to understand, easy for her to speak, but reading them was another dilemma altogether. After many failed attempts, her parents sewed letters the local cobbler had cut for her from leftover scraps into a primer. Eventually they found a printer in Edinburgh that sold them letter blocks and a steady frame to recreate a page of a book. It was all very time consuming for the Frasers but the moment it all sparked for her they wept, much to their child’s confusion.

“As much as I wish tha’ I could feel poorly for ye, my well loved sister, I cannae bring myself to do it.” she whispered. “It mus’ bring you sae much joy to be able t’ hold a book in yer hand while I mus’ wait for Da or Mam to build mine from the ground up and back ways ‘round at that! Yer just a puir martyr, Brianna Fraser.”

The younger sister looked around the yard to see who could hear. “Ye canae say such blasphemous things Faith!” Brianna gasped. She was thankful all the hungry animals noise had drowned out her sister’s words. “Why would ye wish me a martyr? Am I no’ good to ye? I try, I swear to ye!”

Faith knew she had pushed too hard. She knew she was lucky to have a sibling to supported her, no questions asked. Well, maybe a few questions. They had their older brother Fergus to model the correct way to do things. He constantly reminded the girls that he had no family to speak of before their parents took him in, no questions asked, in a foreign country. The pair had loved him, fed him, disciplined him, protected him, and eventually made sure he got the best education possible. To honor his Maman he was studying to become a medical doctor to become a respected healer like her, to give back to the tenants of Lallybroch. He had made the younger children promise to look out for each other as well as the rest of the extended family in his stead. Of course they had, quite earnestly, together with quite a few tears as well. Da and Mam were proud of them for their commitment, not that they told them very often but they certainly demonstrated it through small tokens and looks. Speaking unkind things that would purposefully distress someone would be akin to breaking her word to her much loved brother, something her parents would disapprove of immensely. After all, he was the one who had taught her, amongst other things, how to be brave. To break that would make her lose face and dishonour clan Fraser, in their eyes.

“Och! Bree, yer good to me!” Faith quickly affirmed. “I cannae bear to hear ye weep. My day ha’ been long enough an’ it’s jus’ begun!”

“Aye, I ken that well,” acknowledged Brianna. “Yer tussle with Mam this daybreak scared Adso half out of his furry mind. Puir cheety was shakin’ under Young Ian’s bed las’ I saw.”

“Chores need t’be done mo piuthrag. An’ I need to aid Mrs. Crook once completed.” Faith cautioned, steering things back to the task at hand. “And wha’ happened wi’ Mam, weel, Mam, and I are going to help me wi’ a problem when th’ work is done. Ye ken most all I think or say but it seems tha’ I’m forgettin’ colors an’ if they are lost I cannae say if I can get them back.”

Brianna sighed, “I grant you, Mam is the one t’ know tha’ sort of logic. I'm no’ so good at tellin’, I can show ye though.” As she finished speaking she pulled her sister into a warm embrace. Action was her way of displaying her feelings and thoughts, words were difficult to quickly access in her youthful brain since there were so many languages running through it - English for Mam, French for Fergus, Gàidhlig for Da, Latin for Mass and Greek for Da’s beloved Classics. Silence was the better answer in this situation.

~~~~

The girls were so focused on finishing their tasks so diligently and efficiently that the morning seemed to rush by in just a few moments - to say that they were weary would be a vast understatement. When they reached the front steps their bellies growled loudly after the aroma of something delicious in Mrs. Crook’s kitchen hit their noses. They squeezed each other's hand, a familiar signal to quicken the pace to their destination. As soon as they crossed the threshold they heard their Aunt Jenny’s voice echo from the kitchen as she called her children to midday meal.

“Nigh do làmhan, Kitty! Suidh aig a’ bhòrd, clann-nighean!” A Dhia! A bheil do mhionach a' rùchdail, patach?”

As usual Young Jamie was shoveling food into his mouth as he half wrestled with a book, this time a large tome on animal husbandry that Fergus had sent him, while Young Ian, the littlest, tugged at his mother’s apron sulking loudly about not eating yet. Maggie, Kitty and Janet chatted animatedly about the upcoming family dinner as they washed their hands. The topic, as per usual, was focused on what they would wear in addition to how they should adorn their hair.

Meals were generally organized mayhem in the Fraser-Murray household and it drove Faith to distraction oftentimes. As much as she loved her extended family, she needed to use her hearing to navigate Lallybroch safely. She just had to focus all her energy on eating, then she could help Mrs. Crook, after that she could finally talk to Mam.

Brianna gave look to her aunt as they came into view, Jenny nodded in confirmation.

“All of ye need to cease yer ruckus,” she announced. “We need some peace while we eat, ye ken? And ye cannae just shovel it down yer throat Jamie! Can ye jest chew it a few times?”

Faith and Brianna made their way to the table to join their cousins while Mrs. Crook distributed the food laden plates. Several voices from other parts of the house let them know that the remainder of the family would be there shortly. Their father’s deep voice boomed as he talked to their uncle about the latest letter from Fergus along with the news he imparted from Glasgow. Moments later their mother walked briskly into the kitchen from her surgery, issuing apologies as she sat at her place near the head of the table.

Jamie stood up, crossed himself, then said grace as everyone bowed their heads.

Some hae meat and canna eat, and some wad eat that want it, but we hae meat and we can eat, and sae the Lord be thankit.

As soon as he finished, everyone crossed themselves then began to eat. Faith waited a moment before she leaned over toward her sister, knowing that the conversation around would draw less attention to them.

“I'm skeert, Bree!” she whispered. Her brain was working overtime imagining scenarios of how she would embarrass herself trying to complete her promised task. She could see the churn breaking as she tripped over the cat while the butter went flying. The thought of her dress catching on fire also sprang to mind.

“Wha’? Tha’s no’ possible!” Bree countered. “Yer no skeert o’ tha’ crofters dog an’ even Da cannae look at it withou’ jumpin’!”

“I’m skeert I'll make a mess of ev’rything an’ Mam will thin’ I'm alway’ jus’ a bairn!” Faith replied. “I’m dinnae wan’ t’ set Lallybroch ablaze wi’ my clumsiness!”

The younger girl exhaled loudly. Before she had a chance to reassure her sibling their mother’s voice interrupted and her train of thought was derailed with an almost audible screech.

“Bree and Faith,” she began. “I’m very pleased you’ve finished your chores so early in the day. I need some assistance putting up some canning in the root cellar if you’re in need of a new project to pass the time until supper.”

“Yes, Mam!” They replied in unison. Mam usually doled out work, rarely asking for help so they both leapt at the chance. Keeping the larder well stocked for the winter was very important work, it made them proud to be asked.

“Weel, ah, Mam?” Faith stuttered. “I cannae help ye direc’ly after midday meal but I will be there as quick as I can. An’ after tha’ we are going to chat, aye?” The last sentence came out small, scared, and a little squeaky. She cleared her throat then drank a sip of water to try to compose herself.

Claire laughed, “It slipped my mind that you needed to assist in the kitchen first! Once you’ve completed that, your sister and I will be waiting for you.”

Both Bree and Faith covered their mouths as they struggled to stifle a giggle.

“Aye, Mam!” They chorused.

While everyone else cleared the dining table, Faith fetched the milk can from the spring house to begin churning. She didn’t mind the repetitiveness of the butter making, the familiarity was quite soothing if she was honest. The whole experience held a very important memory for her as well. Lallybroch’s kitchen had acquired quite a few butter moulds over the years but her very favorite one was the stag bust. When she was little her mother had given the wooden slab to her as a diversion when she was fussing, but when she found the indentations she felt every nook and cranny to try to suss what it could be. It was a struggle so many years later to remember what things looked like but that carved stag was something that stood out in her mind. The whole experience of making it yet again made her happy, made her feel normal, just like any other girl who was perfecting a skill.

Everyone in the kitchen set about completing the last few items that could be done ahead of time. Due to their quick skilled hands, the tasks were over quickly and the filled butter mould was returned to the spring house to set. Aunt Jenny thanked Faith as she gave her a hug.

“Yer talent is improvin’ gairghean. Soon ye’ll be teachin’ me new ways to do things!” She laughed.

“Piuthar-athar, tha’s no possible!” Faith gasped.“Betwixt Mrs. Crook, Mam, and yerself I think ye know all there is to know!”

“Och! I only wish!” She retorted. “Away with you. Yer Mam and sister are needin’ help in the root cellar."

“Aye piuthar-athar!”

Faith quickly curtsied and bowed her head to her aunt before finding her way to where she could hear Brianna singing with great flourish.

“Don’t sit under the apple tree with anybody else but me!”

“Mam, is there a dying cheetie down there?” Faith snickered. “I ken th’ puir thing is suffering greatly.”

Bree continued on undeterred as she handed her mother another crock of black butter to set next to the many jars of applesauce, black currant jam, pickles, and numerous other items for the lean months.

Faith exhaled loudly as she stood at the bottom of the stair. She tapped her feet rhythmically as she waited for her mother to tell her where it was safe to walk.

“Three small steps and then stop, love. We have a few more things to put on the shelf and we can have that talk.” she replied. “Can you hand me that string of garlic on your right, please?”

“Mam d’ye thin’ they’ll be some left for th’ end of year celebrations? I ken we ha’ a bountiful crop this year,” Bree interjected. “Garlic mutton on Hogmanay is heavenly!”

Faith sighed as she passed the carefully bound bulbs to her mother. “Wi’ Mam’s potatoes an’ snèap mash an’ walnut stuffing! Och! Mrs. Crook’s rhubarb pie! I need t’ ken how to make that.”

“I do apologize for interrupting my young dreamers,” Claire began, “But we just need to get your Uncle Ian’s hard cider jugs into the back corner. After that, we will have that talk Faith.”

Both girls screwed up their faces at the mention of their uncle’s latest endeavor. The last several attempts had yielded vinegar, immensely sour cider and something they swore had killed a patch of grass when it was unceremoniously dumped on that spot by their unimpressed aunt.

“Yes!” she half-laughed as she continued. “Your uncle has yet to be successful, but he is guardedly optimistic about this batch.”

“Da kens sae much abou’ wine from Oncle Jared, I reckon he needs t’ try his own hand at cider!” Bree ventured.

“I beg ye t’ not tell Da that!” Faith replied. “Then there’ll be a competition betwixt th’ two an’ we wi’ have to get an earful of their braggin’, ye ken?”

All three cringed loudly, returning back to the placement of the cider. They worked quietly until their last task was finally completed.

Claire hugged her youngest daughter, then promised to help her translate the French novel she was reading later that evening after the younger children were put to bed.

“Now go!” she ordered. “Please tell your father that we’ll be back for supper. I don't want him to worry about me tiring myself.”

Brianna quickly nodded, “Aye, Mam!”

Faith grinned as her sister’s footsteps trailed off. “She thinks the bairn t’ be a boy, like Da.” she murmured. “I jus’ want it t’ be healthy, ye ken? I dinnae want ye t’ have another frail bairn t’ fuss with.”

Claire immediately clasped her daughter’s hand. “Oh, love!” she gasped. “You’re the furthest thing from frail and such a young lady, even at eleven.”

“I cannae even remember gorm, Mam!” Faith lamented. “An blue is a color tha’ is always above us. A wee bairn will tell ye what blue is but I cannae do it. I’m fearful I’ll nae be able to. How can I help mo bràthair with nae sight?”

“The same way you helped your Murray cousins - patiently, and with all the love you have to give.”

“Mam -” she began. “No,” Claire interjected. “You have the bluest eyes I have ever seen. They are even more blue than your father’s. The stream you love to play in is blue. Your favorite fruit is even blue - blueberries. You know what blue is, despite not having seen it in a decade.”

“I need ye to show me more blue, please, Mam.” Faith said as she tugged at her mother’s dress. “Then I need ye to teach me more colors.”

“Help me up the stairs and we will continue this discussion as we walk. Agreed?”

“Yes, Mam.”

~~~~~~~~~~

piuthrag = little sister

“Nigh do làmhan, Kitty! Suidh aig a’ bhòrd, clann-nighean!” A Dhia! A bheil do mhionach a' rùchdail, patach?” = "Wash your hands, Kitty! Sit at the table girls/daughters! For Heaven's sake! Is your tummy rumbling?"

Some hae meat and canna eat, and some wad eat that want it, but we hae meat and we can eat, and sae the Lord be thankit.

Some have food and cannot eat, And some would eat but have no food, But we have food and we can eat, And so the Lord be thanked.

Piuthar-athar = aunt, specifically father's sister

snèap = turnips

gorm = blue

#ao3 fic #cranesmuir_witch #the fear of forgetting

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foreheadface · 7 years

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you didn’t ask for it... so here ya go

@wordshakerofgallifrey

Athena had been talking non-stop since she found Apollo on the train yesterday, he’d realized as they walked into classroom 3C together, as they did every year. He had missed her relentless chatter over the summer (although he would much rather eat slugs before he ever told her that).

The classroom wasn’t packed just yet when they took their seats on the second row. The only difference as opposed to the last two years, he saw a mix of Gryffindors in the room with the usual litter of Hufflepuffs in his year. That’s different, Apollo noted absently. Usually we’re usually with Ravenclaw… Strangely, Professor Wright was already at his podium looking over his usual mess notes and study plans, which he never ever did. Honestly, the only time the professor had ever looked at his notes was when Headmistress Fey was around and… well... She wasn’t here anymore.

Professor Wright never preparation, never had any prior knowledge of lessons before he stood up to teach, and there was no structure to his lessons when he did if, in fact, he somehow did prepare a lesson. He was probably the strangest Hufflepuff in his graduating class, Apollo would wager, if not in the entire history of the school. Apollo changed his view and noticed that Wright was talking to a tall blonde man with long curly hair over one shoulder wearing sleek robes. The man was smiling as he spoke, but while polite-looking, his smile seemed very forced. His arms were crossed but Apollo could see the hint a very odd tattoo or scar on the back of one of his right hand. The man almost looked very… familiar… Huh… Apollo turned back to Athena, who was opening up her brand new 3rd year DADA book, smiling and smelling the pages, fondly. “Athena, you live in the wizarding world, year round… Do you know who that is? He looks kind of familiar…” he whispered, attempting now to cast attention on himself. Athena turned her head and glanced over at their teacher and the other man. She reached up to play with her moon-shaped earring, a habit she tended to have when she was idle. “I think that’s the auror, Kristoph Gavin. Maybe he’s here to talk to us about all of the stuff going on with Professor Hawthorne’s sister last year, since he’s famous and all…?” Apollo blinked and turned back to the man talking to the Professor. Then it hit him. He could hear the light German accent as the man spoke. His facial feature looked exactly like Klavier’s, minus the glasses that sat on his face. “Kristoph Gavin? That’s... That’s Klavier’s brother.” His voice became detached. “What?! I had no idea that Klavier’s brother was that Kristoph Gavin! He’s a legend! He’s caught so many bad wizards, he’s almost like a superhero!!” Athena exclaimed excitedly. She did some chopping hand motions that Apollo didn’t see because he was looking at the door. There was a more important question… Does Klavier know his brother is on campus? Daryan Crescend walked in with his group of friends, making eye contact with Apollo but not in any kind of friendly way. Apollo could swear he saw a snarl at the other boy’s lips. Guess he’s still angry with Hufflepuff for winning the House Cup last year… Then Apollo blanched. Or just at me in general for other reasons. Great. Apollo looked back at the door. There was still no sign of Klavier. “Stop your worrying Apollo. He’ll be here. He was at breakfast, remember?” Athena said reassuringly. God, sometimes, Apollo wished she were less empathic. Apollo crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath. That’s right. Klavier was a breakfast. He was wildly excited for some wizard music study intro class he’d signed up for last term that was apparently tough to get a seat in. Apollo turned his head and rolled his eyes. “If Klavier loses points for being late today, you owe me 25 galleons and a bag of licorice wands.” . “Ew, licorice,” Athena recoiled and muttered under her breath. She sat up in her chair and leaned over on her desk, smirking wildly at Apollo- as if she knew something he didn’t. Or she knew something he was attempting to forget…

“You’re always awfully prickly when it comes to Klavier. Any ideas why?” She said flippantly. Apollo felt his cheeks starting to burn against his will and he glanced suddenly at his book in an attempt to ignore it. He hoped to god Athena didn’t notice, but because she obviously had eyes, he hoped that she would at the very least keep quiet. “N-No idea what you’re… Referring to… You know this book talks a lot about werewolves, right?”

He glanced back up; he noticed Professor Wright had finished talking to his guest. Kristoph had turned way from Wright and began setting up for his lecture.

The professor walked over toward where Apollo and Athena were sitting; smile becoming less strained all of a sudden. “Hello, Apollo. Athena. How’re you kids doing today? I hope you’re as excited as I am for this class,” He said, mysteriously.

Athena grinned. “You know you’re our favorite teacher, Professor! We’re ecstatic for the year ahead!”

Apollo nodded along with her but did not look the Professor directly in the eyes. He still couldn’t get over what happened the last year. Seeing Mr. Wright so vulnerable was still so… Strange. If the Headmaster hadn’t been there to save them all, they would have been goners. Hopefully, Professor Fey was all right now and had recuperated over the summer but the look in Wright’s eyes had been incredibly daunting.

And even though Wright was smiling now, Apollo heard his voice echoing in his head. “The worst of times are where Aurors have to force their biggest smiles.” Apollo knew the truth. The emptiness and tired eyes said everything.

“25 galleons, Apollo! Pay up!”

Apollo turned. “Huh?”

“Achtung, Forehead! You have such little faith in me!” Klavier snapped his fingers and tsked with his trademark smirk on his face. Apollo felt his cheeks grow hotter. Had Klavier grown his platinum hair out longer over the summer? It had been starting to get long last year but… wow. Had he pierced his ears too? Had his eyes gotten paler or turned a more purple-tinted blue? Had he gotten even taller? Sure Apollo noticed the height difference on the train, but that was in the presence of everyone else: Athena, Clay, Daryan, Juniper, Simon, and Ema. There wasn’t time to really look for details even though Apollo was always looking for details.

Apollo scratched the back of his head as Klavier moved to his usual seat behind him. “It w-wasn’t that, but you woke up late.”

“Apollo!!”

“Yeah, Athena, I’ll buy you something else at Hogsmeade when we go, okay?” Athena let out a disappointed pouting noise.

Apollo turned sideways in his desk, and tapped his hand on the front of Klavier’s before whispering. “Why is your brother here?”

Klavier wasn’t looking at Kristoph any longer, but Kristoph was definitely staring him down. Apollo could practically feel the ice like eyes freezing the back of his own neck. Klavier must have been feeling it too because he narrowed him eyes and smirked. “Your brain has obviously not grown as large as your forehead has over the summer, Apollo. How should I know?”

Apollo narrowed his eyes. “Real mature, Klav. Real mature.” Klavier smirked a little, which would have been a good sign if it had reached his eyes.

The professor clapped his hands, signaling the start of class. Apollo turned back around in his seat and bit the inside of his cheek, anxiously.

“Right, guys. It’s the first day back so I thought I’d do something a little different than what I do every other year. I’ve brought in a special guest today, to sorta… shake things up a little. He is the, if you all have been paying attention to the Prophet, the highly esteemed auror, Mr. Kristoph Gavin. I’m sure many you have heard about him as he’s risen very high in the Ministry of Magic at such a young age, starting his career after he graduated top of his class here at Hogwarts.”

“Not that impressive,” Apollo heard Klavier mutter behind him.

The professor continued as he picked up his wand, charming a piece of chalk to write on the board for him as he sorted through his usual mess of stacked papers and notes on his cluttered desk.

“Since the incident last year shocked so many, we’re going to have Aurors in and out of the school checking the grounds for intruders for extra safety. So, I thought who better than my…” Was the Professor clenching his jaw? “…dear friend, Kristoph Gavin to come and explain the situation to a few of my Defense Against the Dark Arts classes?” The professor’s voice was as light as ever but he seemed really tired. And Apollo could swear Wright was gritting his teeth.

Friend? How could anyone as cold as Kristoph Gavin have any friends? Especially not Professor Wright, who had a heart of pure gold and was probably way out of Kristoph’s league on account of being sorted into Hufflepuff and being much less poorer than him. From what Apollo has heard from Klavier, Kristoph was openly mean to everyone that wasn’t of ‘pure blood’ or ‘didn’t have enough money,” under false pretenses of over-politeness. And although Apollo would never openly state that to Klavier, he had noticed in the past three years the slightly abusive manner of which Kristoph treated his younger brother and Apollo’s best friend.

Apollo watched Kristoph Gavin move his briefcase around to grab some very organized papers (were they color-coded? Eggshell white to cinderblock? Really?) from it before looking up to the students and smiling a little too politely.

“Why, thank you for your kind introduction, Professor,” Kristoph said, shutting his eyes and smiling at Professor Wright. Apollo noted his light German accent a few years ago but it seems… thicker now. Almost like Kristoph had been back in “the homeland” recently...

Kristoph turned back to the group of students. “As your professor has stated, there have been multiple attacks on this school, other schools throughout the world, and also wizarding communities all over the globe. For now, the Ministry wishes for things to just continue as normal as they possibly can.” Apollo shudders when Kristoph smiled again. It was sickly sweet and freezing cold- nothing like Klavier’s smile- his real smile. The smile that made Apollo’s heart beat as if he had just run 5 miles- Stop it. Focus, Justice. You’re in class.

“Mr. Gavin, I think it would be optimal to maybe explain what it is you do as an Auror, yeah?” The Professor cut in, with a smile that seemed just as intimidating as Kristoph’s. Apollo could have sworn he saw a twitch in Kristoph Gavin’s eye.

“Aurors are law enforcement among wizards. We protect communities from harm from the dark arts and take case loads of the people if they have been harmed by dark magic.”

Wright sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “And what’s the difference between the Ministry of Magic and the Aurors?”

“The Aurors work for the Ministry,” Kristoph said, incredulously. “There are different tiers of Aurors that work different types of cases and in different sections of the Minist-”

“Namely-“

“It just depend on the extremity of the situa-“

“-And who decides that, Mr. Gavin?”

Apollo turned to stare at his teacher. What had gotten into him? Why is he being so hard on Kristoph? He’s treating this presentation like an oral exam on what being an Auror was, to see if Kristoph knows what his job is.

When class is finally over, Kristoph looked exhausted while the Professor just wore his same old lazed grin he’s always had. Apollo, Athena, and Klavier were the last ones out of the room, because Klavier hung back, pretending to be asking Athena what the homework assignment was again. He asked her three times already, which clearly confused passing students. After everyone was gone, Apollo knew Professor Wright knew exactly what Klavier was doing because he also excused himself from Gavin’s presence.

Klavier, on the other hand, strode right up to the podium where his brother stood looking at more notes. The boy slammed his hand against the wall.

“What do you mean the Ministry wants the school to continue as normal? Everything is fine as it is!” he said through gritted teeth. Apollo cringed. “Does this mean all of the Aurors on campus right now are-“

“-Staying, yes.”

Klavier narrowed his eyes at his brother. “You couldn’t have told me anything about this when you found out? I’m sure you knew before you dropped me off at the train station yesterday. You couldn’t have said anything at all?”

Apollo watched Kristoph dramatic sigh, as the man has been prone to doing from time to time.

“If you must know, Klavier, my boss informed me of this yesterday night, after I took you to the train station. I had absolutely no idea that I would be stationed to work here. I do apologize if this inconveniences you,” he says, still smiling but it was obviously faltering into aggravation now. Though it is possible he also hisses his words through gritted teeth, too. “And wipe that scowl off of your face, Klavier. It will stay like that if you don’t watch it.” He pushed his glasses up.

Klavier bit the inside of his cheek and then smiled in spite of himself. “Fine. Whatever.” He slips a hand back into his pocket and grabs his book bag. He then turns to leave but stops when Kristoph makes a clicking noise with his tongue.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends? That is really the very height of rudeness, Klavier. Now I thought I taught you better than that,” he said, Kristoph’s voice reminding Apollo as a slimy snake.

Klavier spun around so fast that it was a wonder his hair wasn’t all messed up. Apollo wondered if he’d enchanted a bottle of hairspray again. He pointed to a surprised Athena. “Athena Cykes.” Then he pointed to Apollo. “Apollo Justice. May we go now?” His expression was hard. Apollo had only seen Klavier like this a few times in the past couple of years he’d known him; the vulnerable Klavier.

Kristoph crossed his arms and chuckled. “Sure. I suppose I will see you later anyway, kleiner Bruder.”

Apollo could have sworn that Klavier gagged at his brother’s remark as he turned around and sauntered out classroom 3.

“Klavier! Klavier, will you slow down?” Apollo called, after the blond.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Forehead!”

“Neither of us asked!” Athena shouted. “Come on, you promised you’d come watch Quidditch tryouts with me! Simon’s really gonna make it this year, I just know it!”

Klavier scoffed loudly as he walked but turned his briefly to Athena and sneered. “Quidditch tryouts for Slytherin, I’d rather die.”

Athena frowned and looked to Apollo as they walked after Klavier, as if she didn’t know what to do. Apollo stopped and held his arm out to stop her. “You know what, Athena? How about you go on ahead?”

“What? But you’ll miss it and you guys both promised Simon! What if he actually gets on the team and you miss it all?”

Apollo turned his head and watched Klavier walk out of the hallway and then out of the building. Somehow, he knew exactly where Klavier was going.

“Look, you know how emotional Klavier can be. Especially when it comes to his family… Junie’s probably somewhere around here… She’d love to watch Blackquill try out with you. Seeing Kristoph in class like that was probably a lot to take in for Klavier. You know how it is with him…”

Athena pursed her lips together and then looked away, her arms crossed. “Yeah… His emotions were wild back there. Sadness, surprise, anger…” She sighed and looked Apollo in the eyes. “And panic. What happened over the summer? What has Kristoph done now?”

Apollo looked at his shoes. “I don’t know. I think it’s more of the fact that Klavier still has to live with Kristoph over the summer until he’s of legal age.” He shook his head. “Anyway, go find Junie and see if you can find Clay and Ema… If you see Daryan at the Quidditch Pitch and he asks about Klavier, tell him to piss off.” Athena nodded solemnly and began walking back the way she came when she stopped. Apollo had already turned back and started walking when he heard her again.

“Hey Apollo? I would compliment his hair.”

Apollo exhaled. “You’re not helping in the slightest, Athena.”

“Kay, sorry, sorry…” and he heard footsteps and a door opening, signaling Athena’s leave.

Apollo, on the other hand, took a deep breath and began walking back the opposite way of the hallway door he saw Klavier walk out of. It led to another part of the campus, around a small courtyard near the Herbology Greenhouses. He noticed Klavier decking it for the Forbidden Forest.

“Klav! Klavier, will you stop for one minute?! Come on! Holy Mother of Kurain…” Apollo called when he sees the sight of platinum blond hair. When Klavier refuses to stop, Apollo sighs and drops his shoulder bags. Of course. It’s come to this...

Then Apollo takes a deep breath and breaks out into a sprint, tackling Klavier to the ground. Klavier makes an aggravated noise and fights back.

“Apollo, you bloody hündin-“ He tries to fight Apollo off but Apollo finds that he probably has the upper hand, considering that Dhruke Sahdmadhi and Datz Are’bal raised him.

“K-Klavier! We need to talk about this!” He huffed as he tried to subdue Klavier. Man was he strong, though… “I d-don’t get what the big deal is! It’s not like you’ll see him everyday… Or every minute! He’s just up here with the other Aurors, right?!”

Klavier shakes his head repeatedly and finally shakes himself free, being ultimately stronger than Apollo, and wraps arms around himself while trying to recover lost oxygen. “Apollo, you don’t get it!”

“That doesn’t mean that I can’t try!” Apollo yells back. His chest rises and falls and Apollo realizes it’s actually really hot out. He pulls off his Hufflepuff cardigan and ties it around his waist. Then he glances around in an instant and his eyes settle on a stone bench in the middle of the garden between a couple of greenhouses. “Come over here.” He begins to drag Klavier to the bench.

“Apollo-”

“Just sit down, will you?”

With a long sigh that emulates his brother, Klavier follows Apollo and sinks into the garden’s bench, finally taking his own bag off and setting it down beside him.

“Now,” Apollo exhales and inhales deeply, trying to recover the air he has just lost. Dhurke would say that he’s out of shape. “What happened over the summer? You didn’t respond to any of my letters or Athena’s I bet and you didn’t say much at the train or at the feast. What’s been going on with you?”

Klavier sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Pureblood stuff.”

“Be serious, Klav.”

“No,” Klavier fully turned and rolled his eyes at Apollo. “I am being serious- I’m being very, very serious.” Klavier exhaled as if breathing were a chore and began fiddling with the rings on his hands. Guess I’m lucky he didn’t punch me in the face or I’d have the imprint of the Gavin Family for a week on my face…

“My brother made me go to like… five or six parties this summer. With like, all of the pretentiousness and pretense of every Pureblood family in the country. It was like being around 30 versions of my father or… Kris.” Apollo’s face softened when Klavier shuddered. Klavier raised his hand.

“And, speaking of Kris, I guess seeing him in one of my favorite classes und knowing that he’ll be staying here until the whole “magical terrorism” thing is over threw me for a loop. Because I was not expecting him to be there, you know? I already have to live with him and I’ve told you how great that is.” Klavier’s jaw clenched and Apollo felt a tinge of guilt for yelling at and tackling the other boy. What if Kristoph had done something to Klavier over the summer? That was an awful thing to think about. Instead, Apollo looked away and tapped his forehead. “I thought people were calling it the ‘dark age of magic?’”

Klavier sneered at him. “Ja, whatever, Forehead. Jesus. The point is that the Ministry thinks Kristoph is a good enough auror to watch over the school und I highly disagree. He’s wickedly overrated und unqualified,” Klavier gritted his teeth.

Apollo exhaled as if he had been holding his breath- and maybe he had been. If Athena were here, she’d say that the signs were there. Kristoph probably did do or say something to Klavier over the summer, as he’d done every year Apollo had known him and every year of his life, most likely. Even without Athena’s emotional telepathy, he knew Klavier was screaming on the inside.

So, the best thing to do was change the subject.

“Wanna, um… Go back to the Great Hall? I think there’s a wizard chess set in there… Or we could go back to the dorms and get that Guitar you’ve been working on charming…? You wrote me a few months ago that you finished a serenady song… uh….” Apollo awkwardly scratched his head. “O-Or we could go to the Astrology tower and uh… Hang out up there… That could be fun… Maybe Clay’ll be there.”

Klavier blinked and forced a smile. “I guess I could show you the song I’ve been working on.”

“Yeah?”

“Ja… It’s about magically large foreheads taking over people’s faces like a disease.”

Apollo stared a Klavier for the longest time before standing up. “You see, this is why I never comfort you.” He begins to walk back to his discarded bag on the ground.

“Oh come on! You have to admit that was funny!”

“I was seriously worried about you and then you give me this! Why the spell do I even bother?” Apollo picked up and dusted off his discarded bag and turned back toward the castle.

Klavier ran into his shoulder and hooked his arm in Apollo’s, having apparently already picked up his bag. “Because we’re friends and you’re worry all the time! It’s adorable!”

Apollo’s eyebrows narrowed. Just four more years of this. Just four.

#Apollo Justice: Ace Wizards #no context #I don't know where this scene is going #but i love tis scene like so much

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