Violetti (purple hair) and Tidus (blond hair)

This drawing is made by @patchyegg87, based on these guys:

The link to her Tumblr post is right here~

“Man, I’m glad that’s over!” Floyd yawned as they all filed out of their History classroom.

“It was not as difficult as I thought it would be,” Jade said, joining their classmates heading to Alchemy.

“Yeah!” a smiling Kalim appeared beside them. “Jamil’s a really good teacher. I’m pretty sure I passed that test!”

“Hey!” Floyd grinned at the Scarabia students. “That’s good news for Azul! Sea Snake’s gonna teach him to fly, right?”

“I can’t teach him anything if he keeps postponing the lessons,” Jamil said pointedly, looking at Azul who was walking beside Jade.

“I’ve told you,” Azul frowned, “we’ll start with the lessons as soon as you come up with a favor to ask of me.”

“The Flight test is next week,” Jamil reminded him. “If you fail, Coach Vargas might fail me too.”

“You can do it, Azul!” Kalim smiled encouragingly. “You weren’t very scared of flying when we were on the carpet, right? Jamil was beside you then too, so you know you can trust him not to let you fall!”

“Oh?” Jade said with interest. “You flew on the magic carpet, Azul?”

“Class is starting,” Azul said as they entered the Alchemy classroom. “We have a test, focus on that.” He did not want to discuss that carpet ride.

They went to their seats and put on their lab coats and goggles. Kalim sat beside Azul; they were going to present a particular potion today as their special project and exam.

Azul laid out the ingredients on their table, carefully placing them in the order that they should be put in the cauldron.

“Thanks again for getting our ingredients!” Kalim said. “I wouldn’t have known where to find those things.”

“Jade found them,” Azul explained. “I asked him to do so in exchange for a day off. And making a potion like this was your idea in the first place.”

“And I’m happy you agreed with it!”

“Settle down, puppies.” Professor Crewel took his place on his desk and waited for the chatter to dwindle. “I have assigned each group with a different potion to brew. You all have one hour to make those potions, and you will present it in front of the class. Remember the safety guidelines and keep your goggles on at all times.” He looked at the clock on the wall, “Begin.”

Cauldrons were uncovered, test tubes tinkled, and the sound of chopping boards could be heard as everyone promptly started on their potions. Soon enough, the air smelled of spices from the various concoctions that were brewing, the open windows allowing for ventilation and preventing them from inhaling all the fumes.

The minutes went by, and Azul made sure that he and Kalim strictly followed all the instructions on the list he had prepared. Sweat was forming on his eyebrows, but he didn’t lean away from the steaming cauldron. Their safety goggles were fog-proof anyway, and it was important that he see what the potion looks like from up close; he wouldn’t accept anything less than perfect considering his performance last time.

At last, Azul stood up straight and smiled in satisfaction. Kalim, who was already complimenting their work continuously about halfway through, held the jar steady while Azul carefully poured in the potion.

“Time’s up!” Professor Crewel said just as Azul was sealing the jar with its lid. “Get ready to present your works. First up,” he looked at his alphabetized list, “Ashengrotto and Asim!”

They walked to the front of the class and Azul placed the jar on Professor Crewel’s desk.

“I thought you were going to attempt the Fire Flask again?” the professor asked them, raising his eyebrow at the greenish-blue liquid.

“No,” Azul adjusted his glasses. “You told us to make a potion that provides light, heat, and is portable.”

“So we did that, but with water!” Kalim smiled proudly and put his hands on his hips.

“We infused our potion with bioluminescent algae,” Azul waved his magic pen and dimmed the classroom.

The jar glowed from the inside, bathing the room in a soft blue radiance. It was almost like they were underwater.

Azul took several moments to bask in the impressed wonder on the faces of his teacher and classmates before making their classroom lights go back to normal.

Kalim picked up the jar, “And because we also added calcium carbide, it heats up! All you gotta do is open the lid to expose the liquid to the air and activate its magic, then you can close it again and it will generate heat for about two hours!” He opened the lid and closed it.

“Of course, the heat won’t be strong enough to cook anything,” Azul explained as the room started to get warmer, “but it could keep a room warm and could reheat food if placed close enough to it. And it is far safer to carry around than a Fire Flask because it doesn’t generate any actual flames.”

Professor Crewel nodded, “Not bad, you two. It wasn’t what I expected, but I admire your creativity. You may go back to your seats.”

The other groups presented their potions, and the class ended without any accidents like spontaneous fires or indoor rain. They all filed out of the classroom, Jade and Floyd heading back to Mostro Lounge to manage the lunch break shift.

Azul started to make his way to the field where the third-years were having their Flight class. He needed to talk to Idia about modifying the schedule of the Boardgame Club meetings; the Flight exam was next week, and they all had to prepare for it.

He saw the students in the distance zooming back and forth on their brooms, though Idia was mostly just floating around and wobbling from time to time. Azul realized with dread that Idia was doing much better than he did in his Flight class that morning.

He stopped walking and watched them, deciding to just talk about the Board Game Club later, when Idia wasn’t near Coach Vargas and Azul wouldn’t risk getting scolded or forced to run laps.

Considering the result of his and Kalim’s potion earlier, he only had the Flight exam left to worry about. He didn’t usually stress over exams, but flying wasn’t exactly something he could learn through his notes.

“I hate flying,” he grumbled out loud.

“And I hate failing,” a familiar voice said behind him.

Azul turned around and saw Jamil standing there with his arms crossed.

“So are we gonna do those flying lessons now? Remember that 20% of my grade would depend on your grade.”

“I know that,” Azul said defensively. He didn’t like it either that Coach Vargas was forcing Jamil to teach him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was on my way to the cafeteria, and I saw you here staring daggers at those flying brooms,” Jamil smirked.

“Fine,” Azul relented. He didn’t want to fail either, and he certainly didn’t want to inconvenience someone else with his failures. “How about we practice after lunch? We’re free for the rest of the day, anyway.”

“Sounds good,” Jamil nodded and continued his walk to the cafeteria.

Azul followed and had been walking beside him for a few moments before he realized that Jamil might find it odd that he was suddenly following him. It was just an instinctive decision because Azul had been intending to go to the cafeteria too after talking to Idia, but he decided to fill the silence anyway.

“Have you thought about—”

“No,” Jamil cut him off.

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask,” he frowned.

“You were going to ask if I had reconsidered joining your staff in Mostro Lounge, or if I already have a favor to ask you as payment for teaching you to fly. And my answer to either one is no,” Jamil said.

“Well,” Azul huffed, he was going to ask about the latter but he supposed he didn’t need to. “It seems I’ve become a tad predictable, haven’t I?”

“Your annoying nature is very consistent,” Jamil replied, though he didn’t sound annoyed at all.

They approached the buffet table and got their lunches; Azul taking some fried chicken and Jamil getting a bowl of dumpling soup.

“Is it okay if I sit with you?” Azul asked when they had paid for their food.

“As long as you don’t talk to me about joining Mostro Lounge or asking favors,” Jamil said, sitting at the table they found.

“Not to worry,” Azul took a seat across from him, “I simply want to discuss the schedule of our flying lessons. When are you free this coming week?”

Jamil thought about it. “The Flight exam is the last one we have to worry about for now, so I’m pretty much free for about 2-3 hours after classes, depending on whether we have basketball practice. And I have to get back to Scarabia in time to help with dinner.”

“Okay then, how about 2 hours after classes starting on Monday?” Azul suggested. “I shall take care of some things in Mostro Lounge first and arrange the staff schedule over the weekend to make time for those lessons.”

“Yeah, that works.”

——

The lights in Mostro Lounge still glowed softly an hour after closing time as Azul and the Leech twins sat around the table having their nightly meeting that Sunday.

“As usual, profits have increased during the exam period,” Jade said. “Students want to earn a lot of points to get the chance to ask for favors.”

“Yep,” Floyd agreed. “The special food-and-drink set is still the most popular. Even when we ran out of those yesterday, a lot of customers pre-ordered them.”

“I can see why,” Azul was looking at the receipts. “Most of those purchases are from first-years, and while our exams are almost over, theirs would just be starting next week.”

Jade nodded, “Indeed. I will order more ingredients for our most popular items to make sure that we keep up with the demand.” He wrote it down on his notepad.

PING!

Jade looked around and frowned. “What was that?”

“It wasn’t mine,” Floyd checked his phone.

“And it wasn’t mine either,” Jade said, gesturing to his phone on the table.

The twins turned to Azul.

“It’s a text alert, calm down.” Azul looked down at the receipts again, hoping that he wouldn’t be asked any questions.

“Yes, but from whom?” Jade inquired. “Floyd and I are here.”

“And our suppliers for the Lounge have Jade’s number, not yours,” Floyd pointed out.

“It’s probably my parents,” Azul said, already knowing that wasn’t the case. “I’ll read it later.”

“Your parents always call,” Floyd said between sips of his drink through a swirly straw. “They don’t just text.”

“Maybe they did this time. And why does it matter, anyway?” Azul said irritably. “Why are we stopping the meeting just because of a text?”

Floyd gasped, the straw dropping out of his mouth. “Is it Sea Snake?”

“Jamil?” Jade furrowed his brows at Azul. “Why would Jamil have your number?”

“Coach Vargas is making him teach me to fly, remember?” Azul said. “I gave him my number so we could schedule the lessons easily and get them over with.”

“You… gave him your number,” Jade repeated. “He didn’t even ask for it? You just did so?”

“Yes, and it could prove useful in convincing him to join us here in Mostro Lounge if we could easily contact each other.” It sounded like a good enough plan for Azul, he didn’t understand why his friends were making a big deal out of it.

Jade and Floyd exchanged glances.

“What?” Azul demanded, looking at each of them.

“Ah, it is nothing,” Jade smiled, assuming his businesslike tone again. “My apologies for interrupting the meeting,” he put his hand on his chest.

Azul narrowed his eyes at them but said nothing. He didn’t want to prolong that conversation.

It wasn’t until they all got back to their dorm rooms that he finally felt comfortable taking out his phone from his jacket pocket to look at the message.

“This is Jamil. Has your injury from the fire healed yet? I’m asking because it might affect our flying practice tomorrow.”

Azul raised his eyebrows. He had a feeling the text would be from Jamil saying something about the flying lessons, but he didn’t expect him to ask about that.

Then he remembered how he shouted in pain when Jamil grabbed his injured arm last time. Jamil probably didn’t want a repeat of that; it had been embarrassing for the both of them.

“It has healed already,” he started typing. “Don’t worry, despite my reputation with flying, I will do my best to not give you much difficulty.”

This would have been much easier if Jamil had asked him for a favor already; they would both feel more certain about their arrangement.

Azul sighed and put his phone on his nightstand; double-checking if his potion was there in case he had nightmares, before he lay down and closed his eyes.

He wondered if he should just give Jamil a bottle or two of that potion again as payment for the lessons, so it would be a done deal already. Then he drifted off to sleep.

——

Jamil put his backpack on a bench near the field and set down his broom. He looked around; it seemed like a good enough place to practice. It was after classes, so there weren’t any students in the area, and the late afternoon sun made it comfortable enough to fly without getting sunburned.

“Hello.”

He turned to see Azul setting down his things, too.

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting,” Azul walked over to him with his broom.

“No, I just got here.” Jamil looked at his watch to see how much time they had, “You ready to start?”

“Yes,” Azul adjusted his glasses.

“Put your broom down.”

Azul frowned, “What?”

Jamil extended his arm to the side and his broom flew from the bench to his hand. “The first lesson in flying is creating a bond with your broom. You must be attuned to it enough that you can summon it with no problem.”

“Right,” Azul nodded, seeming to remember that from their Flight class. He dropped his broom on the grass and extended his hand over it.

Azul was frowning and concentrating so much that Jamil could see a vein on his temple.

“Not like that, you’re too tense,” Jamil said. “The bond is magic, and you know that magic needs to flow freely.” He threw his broom as far as he could. “Take a breath and slowly release it, summon the broom as you exhale.”

Jamil lifted his hand towards the broom, took a breath, and slowly exhaled. He kept his focus on it and the magic connecting them, feeling the invisible threads that bound broom and mage.

The broom sailed smoothly back into his grip.

He turned back to Azul. “See?”

Azul looked down at the broom by his feet and extended his hand again, taking a deep breath and exhaling gradually.

It wobbled a little and then shot up into his palm.

Azul was so startled that he stepped back and almost dropped it. “I did it,” he looked at Jamil in surprise.

Jamil couldn’t help smiling in amusement. “Of course you did, you’re a good mage. You just get nervous when it comes to flying. Now onto proper gripping,” he held up his broom.

“Place your dominant hand on the broom above your other hand—not on top of your hand—still on the broomstick, just placed above your left hand. That way, you’ll have more control of your broom,” he showed Azul the grip.

Azul followed his instructions, imitating even his posture, and Jamil realized that Azul’s analytical mindset was what would help him learn better. He made a mental note of it for future lessons.

“After mounting the broom,” he continued, “kick off from the ground like you’re jumping, but in a forward diagonal direction instead of just straight up. Keep your knees close to the broom and keep them folded so that your legs also point diagonally towards your back, that would minimize air resistance and allow you to be more aerodynamic.”

Jamil demonstrated, kicking off from the ground and flying about five feet. “To keep your balance, don’t lean too much in any direction. Relax your posture and don’t grip the broom too tightly. Now you try.”

“Alright,” Azul mounted his broom and took a deep breath. He kicked off from the ground. “AAAA!”

Jamil’s eyes widened as Azul shot 10 feet into the air; he quickly followed and flew next to him.

Azul was almost hugging his broom, eyes shut tight and teeth clenched as he hovered in place.

“Hey, hey, Azul,” Jamil tried to calm him down, but he wasn’t sure if Azul could even hear him. “Azul, look at me—don’t look down—look at me.”

Jamil watched as Azul slowly opened his eyes, feeling slightly alarmed at the fear he saw in them. “Look at my posture, and try to do the same,” he turned sideways and showed how he wasn’t leaning too far forward or backward.

Azul shakily tried to sit up straighter, keeping his eyes trained forward and not towards the ground.

“Now,” Jamil continued, “to lower the broom, slowly lean back and gently pull the handle a bit closer to you so that the broom tilts back a little. Come on, let’s do it together.”

Azul looked uncertainly at his grip on the broom.

“Together,” Jamil reminded him encouragingly.

Azul nodded, still pale and silent.

“One, two…” Jamil leaned back and slowly lowered his broom, watching as Azul followed. Hesitantly at first, but soon enough the both of them were smoothly descending to the grass.

They hopped off their brooms and Azul leaned forward with his hands on his knees, taking deep breaths.

“Are you okay?” Jamil asked. “Do you need to take a break?”

“No no,” Azul straightened up and adjusted his glasses. “I’m fine. Thank you,” he averted his eyes.

“You did a good job landing your broom, you did it smoothly on your first try,” Jamil didn’t want Azul to only focus on his mistakes. “Let’s keep practicing on how to control the altitude.”

Jamil mounted his broom again. “Don’t kick as hard as you can, try to give it just enough momentum to propel you to a safe five feet, and just control it from there.” He kicked off and flew up. “We’ll stay at this height since it’s what’s only required for the exam.”

Azul kicked off more confidently this time and flew up next to Jamil, wobbling and wrestling with his broom to keep his balance.

“Your arms are too tense,” Jamil pointed out. “Take a deep breath and slowly exhale when you need to relax.”

Azul closed his eyes and inhaled, opening them as he slowly released his breath. He stopped wobbling.

“There you go,” Jamil said.

They kept practicing how to raise and lower the broom and turning it in different directions. Azul could manage well enough, but he was still having trouble with balance; he kept leaning too far left or right. His glasses also seemed to be making him anxious; every time he had to let go of the broom handle to adjust it, the broom wobbled.

“At least I haven’t fallen off yet,” Azul said as he struggled to stay still on his broom, “that’s something.”

“Yeah, that’s a good first step,” Jamil said, flying across from Azul. “Once you get used to staying long enough on your broom, we can get to practicing—”

“LOOK OUT!” A bright blue figure was flying straight at them so fast that Jamil barely had time to react before it slammed into Azul and knocked him off his broom.

Jamil swooped down and caught Azul in mid-air, wrapping his arm around his chest. The sudden added weight threw the broom off-balance, and Jamil barely managed to slow down their fall before they both tumbled to the ground.

“Hiya, guys!” Cater gracefully flew down on his own broom and walked over to them. “I see you’ve met my student!”

Jamil and Azul got up and looked at where Cater was pointing.

Idia had flown right into a tree and was trying to untangle himself from its branches. He finally succeeded and fell to the ground with a yelp, his broom following and falling on his head.

“Ow,” Idia grumbled, putting his hand on his fiery hair. “S-sorry!” he said when he saw Azul and Jamil looking at him. He picked up his broom and ran up to them.

“What are you doing here?” Azul asked in surprise. “Why are you outdoors?”

“Coach Vargas said Cater should help me with flying lessons,” Idia mumbled.

“Yeah!” Cater said cheerfully. “Idia and I are hanging out a lot more now than we ever had!”

Jamil’s watch beeped. “I gotta get to basketball practice,” he said, looking down at it. “We can practice flying laps tomorrow when you’re ready for it,” he continued his interrupted sentence from earlier.

Azul nodded, “I’ll be here at the same time as earlier.”

Jamil said goodbye to Idia and Cater too, and left.

——

“10,000 madols?” Azul asked in surprise, holding the recipe book he had been perusing in Sam’s shop. He had wanted to do some early shopping for Mostro Lounge before classes started.

“Yes! That is the only surviving copy of that recipe book from the 18th century!” Sam said with his usual showmanship. “It’s one of a kind!”

“You’re aware that your shop is in a school, right? You expect students to pay for these prices?”

Sam laughed heartily, “Ah, but you’re not just a mere student, Azul Ashengrotto! Your establishment is just about as popular as mine!”

“So that’s what this is?” Azul narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying that you see me as a rival?”

“I’m saying you can afford my prices, fellow businessman!” Sam spread his hands and gestured to his wares.

“Can I see that book?” Jamil appeared behind Sam; he had entered the shop without either of them noticing.

“It’s a 300-year-old recipe book,” Azul handed it over to Jamil as Sam stepped aside. “I’m looking for dishes to introduce in Mostro Lounge.”

“Then this book is perfect!” Sam insisted.

Jamil flipped through the book carefully, even looking closely at the cover and binding. “It’s about 300 years old, yeah. But it doesn’t even have any magical shielding from water or fire damage. There’s a basic spell on it to keep the paper from crumbling due to age, but that’s it. You can see in places that some of the ink has bled because of water droplets, and there are a few scorch marks on the cover. I'm assuming they’re from when chefs left the book near a stove or open flame.” He held up the book and pointed out the features he was describing.

He closed it and handed it back to Azul, “This is one of a kind, but it’s nowhere near 10,000 madols. Maybe 5 or 6,000.”

“Okay, okay, lil’ devils!” Sam said. “I can be reasonable! You can have it for 9,000 madols!”

“Even I don’t treat my customers that way, Sam,” Azul said. “I’m not paying that much.”

Sam shrugged, “Suit yourself. Just put it back on the shelf and be on your merry way!”

Azul frowned, he really wanted this recipe book but he would not pay such a ridiculous amount. “6,000 madols.”

“Uh-uh,” Sam shook his head. “It’s 9,000 or nothing!”

“Wait,” Jamil stepped forward. “Sam, do you have my order ready? I came to pick it up.”

“Ah! Yes! I shall go and get it!” Sam exclaimed and disappeared into the back of the store.

Jamil turned to Azul, “It’s for you.”

“What?” Azul asked in confusion.

“The thing I ordered, they’re special goggles you can wear while flying, so you don’t have to keep adjusting your glasses and letting go of the broom,” Jamil said casually.

“What—why…” Azul trailed off. As far as he was aware, he was the one who owed Jamil a favor, not the other way around.

Jami crossed his arms, “You won’t learn properly if you’re always worried about your glasses falling off, and that’s bad for the both of us.”

“You bought me special goggles?” Azul said incredulously. “I haven’t even repaid you for the flying lessons! And how did you know my eye grade?”

“Ugh,” Jamil put his hand on his temple. “I knew you would be like this. You can pay for the goggles along with that recipe book. As for your eye grade, I asked Floyd about it during basketball practice yesterday.”

“Here it is!” Sam reappeared, proudly showing the goggles in a transparent case. “Shock-proof and fog-proof as requested,” he handed the case to Jamil.

“Give it to him,” Jamil nodded his head at Azul. “7000 madols for the recipe book and those goggles.”

“Oh? Hmmm…” Sam considered, stroking his chin. “Ah, why not? I can make such a deal for loyal customers!”

Azul gave him the payment and took the items.

“Thank you, fellow entrepreneur!” Sam lifted his hat. “Come back anytime you like!”

Azul turned to remind Jamil not to do him any more favors, but all he saw was the shop door closing as Jamil left.

——

“There you are.” Azul approached Jamil and sat down across from him at the library table. Their classes had just finished, and they had a few more hours before their scheduled flying practice. “I’ll be helping you with Alchemy homework.”

“Why? And how did you know I was here?” Jamil frowned.

“I asked Floyd, given that it was his fault that I owe you another favor yet again. He told me you were planning to go here.” Azul took out his notes and put them on the table. “And I’m helping you so I can repay that favor immediately; you’ll take a long time again if I leave it to you to think of what to ask.”

“What favor?” Jamil’s voice rose, earning him frowns from the nearby students. He noticed and lowered his voice to an angry hiss. “You paid for the goggles!”

“You still made the order and haggled with Sam so I could get those goggles and the recipe book.” Azul absolutely could not let his debts pile up.

Jamil crossed his arms. “What makes you think I even need help with this homework?”

“Floyd said you were going here because you thought the homework was difficult and you’d prefer to have easy access to Alchemy books while working on it.”

Jamil frowned and looked away.

“Right,” Azul adjusted his glasses. “Let’s get to it, shall we?”

——

“Ow,” Azul winced as he got up from the ground. He had fallen off his broom three times already; it surprised him that he still hadn’t broken any bones.

“Your turns are too sharp,” Jamil descended and hopped off his own broom.

“Yes, I realize that,” Azul grumbled.

“You shouldn’t lean too much—”

“Hiiiii, guys!”

They looked up to see Cater and Idia flying above them on his broom; Cater smoothly circling down while Idia descended diagonally with his eyes wide.

“I knew we’d see you here again today!” Cater said cheerfully. “How’re you guys? Me and Idia are having fun hanging out! We’ve never really hung out before, so I’m super stoked that Coach Vargas assigned me to teach him!”

Azul looked at Idia’s resigned expression behind Cater; he didn’t seem to share the same excitement.

“We’re taking a break right now, do you guys wanna join us? Oh!” Cater’s face brightened like he just had an idea. “Jamil! We should buy snacks for all of us! It’s the responsible thing to do as teachers, right?” He grinned expectantly.

“We’re kind of in the middle of something,” Jamil explained. “Azul still hasn’t learned to do turns.”

Idia rushed forward. “B-But, m-maybe Azul wants to take a break, too! I saw him fall earlier, maybe he c-could use a rest?” His voice faded out uncertainly.

“Oh, right,” Jamil touched the back of his neck and turned to Azul. “You did fall off three times already, you might break an ankle or something if we keep going at this rate.”

Azul frowned, confused by Idia suddenly speaking up and Jamil somehow being convinced. “No, I can continue. I’m alright.”

“You said the same thing when your arm got burned in Alchemy,” Jamil reminded him. “And you had that injury for days.”

“My, you are never gonna forget about that, are you?”

“Just—” Jamil closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “Just take some time to refocus. You’re feeling too pressured about the turns so you’re attempting them aggressively. We’ll be right back.”

“Yeah! Don’t fly anywhere!” Cater said in amusement before leaving with Jamil.

Azul turned to Idia. “What was that? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you interject in a conversation before, and certainly not that loudly.”

“Sorry!” Idia replied. “But I needed them to leave so I could ask you something.”

“What is it?” Azul furrowed his brows, wondering what it could be that needed to be asked in private.

“Let’s switch teachers!” Idia stepped closer to him, hands together as if in prayer. “Please! Cater is— He’s too much! He always wants us to take selfies, he talks all the time, and he says we should hang out more after this! He wants us to bond, Azul!” Idia’s eyes shone with fear.

“And… And you think Jamil would be a better teacher for you?” Azul asked, stalling for time. He didn’t quite like the idea of switching coaches with Idia, though he wasn’t sure exactly why.

“Yeah! He doesn’t talk half as much as Cater, and he likes Moirai of the Cliffs, too! So at least we can talk about that if it ever gets awkwardly silent.”

“Moirai… the band?” The name rang a bell, but Azul couldn’t always keep track of Idia’s interests.

“They’re a three-person idol unit! But—” Idia made noises that Cater might call a ‘keyboard smash’ while he raised his hands in frustration. “That’s not the point! Let’s just switch teachers, please! You can handle Cater better!”

Azul fidgeted with his goggles uncomfortably, remembering in the back of his mind that Jamil had it made for him. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Idia. I’ve gotten used to Jamil’s teaching methods and I don’t have the time to adjust to another coach.”

Idia put his face in his hands and took a deep breath. “Okay, okay. I know what you want.” He looked straight at Azul. “I want to ask for a favor. I want to make a deal with you, Azul. Or— or a contract or something, I dunno, however that works now.”

Azul had not expected that; Idia had said a few times that he wouldn’t be interested in making any deals with him, especially not after that whole anemone fiasco.

“Come on!” Idia implored. “You never turn down someone asking for a favor, right?”

He was right; Azul had never turned down any potential client before. And yet… “I’m sorry, Idia, I truly am. I wish I could help you, but— but I can’t afford to risk adjusting to a new coach this close to the exam.”

Idia sighed in defeat, his shoulders slumped. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider? I mean, we’re board game buddies!”

Azul shook his head. “Our friendship is irrelevant to my chances of passing the test.”

“We’re back!” Cater’s voice rang. “Let’s all fuel up before we get back to flying!”

——

“Look alive, students!” Coach Vargas said when they all arrived in class. “It’s two days before the exam and you better be in shape! We’ll start the laps in two minutes!”

They all readied their brooms, a few of them doing some warm-up stretches or taking a drink from their water tumblers.

“Hey.”

Azul looked up from his watch and saw Jamil holding a wrapped sandwich.

“I made too many for Kalim’s lunch, it’ll be a waste if I just throw it away.”

“Why don’t you have it?” Azul frowned in confusion. He glanced at Kalim who was already on his broom, laughing and flying around in small circles.

“I packed some food for myself, too. This sandwich would just go stale if no one eats it at lunchtime after this class.”

Azul took the sandwich, still frowning. “Wait, is this because I helped you with Alchemy homework yesterday?” He raised his voice because Jamil was already walking away.

“It’s just a sandwich, Azul.” Jamil replied, not even looking back at him.

Azul sighed, he didn’t think Jamil would give him so much trouble when it came to repaying favors.

A shrill whistle joggled him out of his thoughts. He joined the other students as they all flew in the air for the laps.

Azul managed to remain on his broom, though he couldn’t go as fast as the others without risking compromising his balance again.

They were on the third lap when someone zoomed past him; he startled and adjusted his grip before he noticed that it was Floyd who seemed to have lost control of his broom.

He watched as Floyd collided with a long-haired student several feet in front of him, and after a moment of panicked shoving and yelling, Floyd and Jamil fell off their brooms and hurtled to the ground.

Without thinking, Azul whipped out his magic pen and conjured a cushion of wind to guide the two safely to the grass.

There was a whistle again and Coach Vargas ordered everyone to stop. “Leech! What happened?” He walked over to where Floyd and Jamil were picking themselves up from the ground.

“Heh-heh,” Floyd smiled. “I wanted to speed up and I kinda lost control for a sec.”

“Kinda?” Jamil said indignantly, one hand on his torso. “You elbowed my ribs.”

“Sorry about that, sea snake!” Floyd ruffled Jamil’s hair, making the latter huff and lean away in annoyance.

“Nice catch, Ashengrotto!” Coach Vargas pointed up at Azul. “Now, everyone continue your laps!” He whistled again.

“Thanks, Azul!” Floyd flew up next to him before speeding off.

Jamil hovered next to Azul, too. “That was for the sandwich, wasn’t it?”

Azul hadn’t even thought of that, but it made sense. That was probably why he instinctively did what he did. “Now we’re even,” he said and flew after Floyd.

——

“Man, I can’t believe you won again,” Idia said, rearranging the mancala pieces so they could start another game.

“I’ve been playing since I was a child,” Jamil shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

Jamil was with the Board Game Club waiting for Azul, they had planned to meet here before heading to their last flying practice for the exam tomorrow. Cater and Ortho were with them too, Cater insisting on “more hang-out time” with Idia.

“Uh, you have a text,” Cater said when Jamil’s phone on the table vibrated.

“Yeah, hang on,” Jamil was in the middle of his turn and he didn’t want to stop and forget where he last put the game piece in.

“It’s just a phone number,” Cater frowned, looking at Jamil’s phone screen.

Ortho spoke up, “That is the phone number of Azul Ashengrotto, Prefect of Octavinelle and manager of Mostro Lounge.”

Jamil snatched his phone off the table, cursing internally. He didn’t save Azul’s name in his phone precisely for that reason; he didn’t want people to see that he had his number.

“Whaaaaat?” Idia said wide-eyed. “Even I don’t have Azul’s number! And we’re in a club together!”

“You have Azul’s phone number memorized?” Jamil directed his question at Ortho, not knowing how to explain why he has that number.

“I have everyone’s phone number memorized!” Ortho said cheerfully. “Just in case Big Brother ever needs to contact them!”

“Whatever,” Jamil muttered, opening the text.

“I won’t be able to make it for our last practice today, Mostro Lounge is packed and we’re short on staff. I shall repay you for those flying lessons as soon as I am able to. And please tell Idia I can’t attend the Board Game Club today if you’re already there.”

“Azul says he can’t attend your club meeting today, they’re short on staff at Mostro Lounge,” Jamil told Idia and then stood up.

“Where are ya going?” Cater asked. “Are you gonna practice flying by yourself?”

“Um...” Jamil wasn’t sure if he should explain but it’s not like he had anything to hide. “Octavinelle needs help with Mostro Lounge, I’m going over there to see what I can do.”

“You mean Azul needs help,” Cater grinned.

“You guys have really gotten close already, huh?” Idia added.

“No,” Jamil said immediately. “I’m just going there because he helped me and Floyd earlier in Flying class. He’s all about getting even with favors, right? I just don’t want him to think I owe him one.” He turned to leave but Cater spoke up again.

“Wait, I’m going, too!” He quickly stood up. “How about you, Idia? Wanna go hang out at Mostro Lounge and help our friend?”

Idia fidgeted with the game pieces. “Ehhhh not really, Mostro Lounge is crowded,” he shuddered at the thought.

“Alright, see ya later, then! See ya, Ortho!” Cater led the way out of the classroom.

“Azul doesn’t like people helping him for free,” Jamil told Cater as they walked to the Mirror Chamber. “Maybe you should just go back to Idia.” He didn’t want Cater to be around them and get more ideas about how “close” he is with Azul.

“It’s okay!” Cater waved his hand. “I’ll just ask him for a favor later!”

Jamil sighed, maybe that was for the best. Cater would see that they really weren’t close.

They arrived at Mostro Lounge and there was chatter in the air as the customers talked with each other and ordered their meals. Everywhere Jamil looked there were staff walking around; even Azul was waiting tables.

“Whoa!” Cater said in amazement. “Look at this place, it’s like half the school is here!”

Jamil followed Azul into the kitchen, Cater walking close behind him.

“Cater and I’ll be helping today,” Jamil found an apron and began tying it around his waist, not giving Azul time to protest.

Azul whipped around, setting the used plates carefully on the sink. “What? What are you two doing? You don’t work here!”

“Relax!” Cater got an apron, too. “We’ll ask for favors later!”

Jade walked by carrying a tray of freshly-cooked stew. “We could use the help, Azul,” he exited the kitchen.

“Fine,” Azul took extra notepads and pencils from a shelf and handed them to the newcomers. “Take people’s orders and help bring out food, too. Don’t mess up.” He got the tray of fries and sandwiches that was just laid out and took it outside.

They all worked continuously, bringing people their food, cleaning out tables, and washing dishes. Azul remained charming to every customer, never breaking a sweat despite Jamil not seeing him rest or even sit down.

After closing time, Azul insisted that he pay Jamil and Cater.

“I’d be okay with another favor, you know?” Cater said. “You don’t have to pay me.”

“No, paying you is much simpler,” Azul replied. “If you want a different favor, you can always ask me personally, or Jade or Floyd.”

“Okay, I get ya,” Cater received the money. “I gotta go now, Riddle will get mad if I’m not back before dinnertime. Thanks for letting us hang out!” He waved goodbye while jogging away to the portal to the Mirror Chamber.

“I didn’t ask you to come here,” Azul told Jamil when it was just the two of them in the otherwise empty lounge, handing him his payment. “That wasn’t my intention when I sent you that text.”

“I know,” Jamil pretended not to notice the small envelope. “But you helped me and Floyd at Flying class earlier. Consider that debt paid.”

“Wha—” Azul sputtered, the envelope still in his hand. “That was for the sandwich you gave me, I told you that! You can’t repay me everytime I do something for you!”

Jamil smirked. “It’s annoying, isn’t it? So maybe don’t count every single thing as a favor,” he turned to leave and started walking away. “Good luck with the exam tomorrow.”

Jamil was glad to be finally leaving. He wasn’t entirely sure what made him stay the entire day to help with Mostro Lounge; it wasn’t like he was obsessed with repaying favors like Azul was, he didn’t have to be there the entire day just because Azul helped him earlier.

Lately he hadn’t been feeling quite himself, like he wasn’t as grounded as he should be. But thinking about it only gave him a headache, so he decided to just push down those thoughts as he usually did.

Red sand swirled around as his magic lifted him from the ground. Praises from the Scarabia residents echoed in his ears—

Jamil gasped, stopping in his tracks and blinking rapidly. What was that? He put his hand to his chest to steady his breathing, and almost screamed when he saw black ink running down his arms. He blinked again and tried to get a hold of his mind.

The ink flickered momentarily, but it kept coming back, like an unstable hologram. Jamil fell to his knees, a dark red glow clouding his vision before fading to black.

“Jamil?” Azul was about to head back into the kitchen when he heard Jamil gasp. He had turned to see him clutching his chest before falling to his knees and collapsing. “Jamil!”

He rushed to his side and knelt down. Beads of sweat had formed on Jamil’s forehead and his eyes were closed. Azul called his name and shook his shoulders, but he wasn’t waking up.

“Jade! Floyd!” Azul yelled for them as loud as he could.

Merely seconds later and the twins burst out of the kitchen, running towards him and Jamil’s unconscious figure.

“What happened?” Jade asked when he and Floyd had knelt down around Jamil.

“I don’t know,” Azul shook his head, “he was walking and then he just gasped and fainted.”

“Do you think he got too tired from working all day?” Floyd asked in concern.

“No,” Jade said, checking Jamil’s wrist for a pulse. “He has been a servant his whole life, he is used to working. And he’s part of the Basketball Club, has he ever fainted during practices or games?”

“Nope, never,” Floyd replied. “You two didn’t get in a fight and start dueling, right, Azul?”

“No!” Azul bristled at the accusation. “I told you he just fainted. Should we bring him to the infirmary?”

He knew that Jade was right about Jamil being used to working hard, but what if the work at Mostro Lounge had been the cause of this? Jamil had never worked in the Lounge before, and today had been one of the busiest days. Azul had let him work for hours; he couldn’t help but feel somehow responsible.

“Yes,” Jade took out his phone. “I’ll call them right now and let them know we’re coming.”

——

Jamil woke up from feeling too warm; his blanket was pulled up to his chin and he could feel sweat on his forehead.

He slowly sat up and tried to get his bearings. The familiarity of his bedroom greeted him, but he didn’t remember getting there.

Memories of the last few hours flooded back to him and he was suddenly wide awake.

He had visions of his Overblot, but he hadn’t been sleeping. He was awake and yet he saw those things. That had never happened before.

Looking at the clock on the wall, he saw that it was almost dinnertime. He would head down to the kitchen to prepare dinner and ask Kalim how he got all the way back to his room.

——

“Of course I can attend the meeting, we don’t have to postpone it,” Azul told Jade.

“Are you certain? If you have other priorities, it’s perfectly alright—”

“The Lounge is my priority,” Azul said with an edge in his voice. “And frankly, I don’t appreciate you insinuating otherwise.”

“Azul?” a surprised voice said behind him.

He turned to see Jamil in the kitchen doorway.

“Apologies,” Jade’s voice said on the phone. “Oh, and while you’re there, perhaps you can ask Kalim again how you can return the favor to him.”

“What?” Azul said distractedly. He was caught off-guard seeing that Jamil was already awake and looking quite well; he didn’t fully catch on to what Jade was saying.

“Because he helped you in Alchemy class,” Jade reminded him. “You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

“Of course I haven’t,” Azul said. “I have to go, I still need to help set up the table. I’ll be there for the meeting, don’t postpone it,” he emphasized before hanging up.

“What are you doing here?” Jamil went to the counter, looking at the dishes that Azul had prepared.

“I thought it appropriate to take over your dinner duties for the night,” Azul began untying the apron that he borrowed, “seeing as you had fainted outside my establishment.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Jamil frowned and crossed his arms. “Did you think you had to return the favor again? Because I showed up unannounced in your kitchen earlier, you felt like you had to invade mine?”

Azul hung the apron back on its hook and adjusted his glasses. “I felt that because you had fallen unconscious after working for me—and stubbornly not accepting payment, if I might add—the least I could do was help prepare food for your dorm. I didn’t even do half the work that you did in the Lounge, and Kalim helped as well.”

Jamil sighed and leaned against the counter, closing his eyes. His arms were still crossed, but he didn’t seem angry anymore.

“Are you alright?” Azul instinctively asked when he saw how tired Jamil looked.

Jamil opened his eyes but kept them on the floor. “It wasn’t your fault that I fainted,” he mumbled.

Azul stayed silent, noticing that Jamil didn’t really answer his question but not knowing whether he should push the subject.

“Was it Overblot visions?” Azul asked carefully.

Jamil looked at him in surprise. “Did you…?”

“Yes,” Azul leaned against the counter, too. He suddenly felt tired. “I experienced them as well. I had to take a week off from the Lounge because I wasn’t sure when the visions would appear, and I couldn’t risk the customers noticing.”

Jamil nodded in understanding. “Azul?”

“Yes?” He looked at Jamil.

“Thank you,” Jamil said, sincerity evident in his tired eyes. “For—”

“Azul!” Kalim’s voice called out. “I finished setting up the table—” He appeared in the doorway and gasped when he saw Jamil. “You’re awake!”

He ran to Jamil and hugged him tightly. “We were all so worried! I’m really glad you’re here now! How are you?” Kalim asked tearfully.

“I’m fine,” Jamil awkwardly patted Kalim’s back before he was set free from the hug. “How did I get here?”

“Azul and his friends brought you here!” Kalim smiled. “Oh, uh, first they brought you to the infirmary, then when the nurses said you’re okay to go, they brought you here! Are you sure you’re really okay?”

“Yeah,” Jamil looked at the food. “I’m just a little hungry, I guess.”

“No problem! Azul made dinner for all of us! He even made you a batch of curry!” Kalim grinned and proudly gestured at the covered pot on the stove.

Azul walked towards the doorway. “Now that dinner is done and you’re awake, I should probably take my leave.” Seeing the Prefect and Vice Prefect of Scarabia talking in their kitchen, he felt strangely out of place.

“What?” Kalim said in concern. “You’re not staying for dinner? But you made all of this!”

Azul smiled politely. “Thank you for the invitation, Kalim, but I still have a meeting at the Lounge.”

“Awww! Just stay for a few minutes, just have one meal with us! I’m sure Jamil would want you to stay! Right, Jamil?” He smiled at his Vice Prefect.

Jamil’s eyes met Azul’s, and for a moment he felt a spark of hope in his chest; perhaps Jamil might ask him to stay.

Azul internally scolded himself. Why would he need Jamil’s invitation? Kalim was right, he made that entire dinner, and he would stay or leave on his own accord.

He saw the uncertainty in Jamil’s eyes and felt that he was right not to hope; Jamil had no reason to want him to stay. That was obvious. Jamil was just feeling pressured by Kalim to invite him to dinner.

“I shall be going now,” Azul maintained his polite smile. “Enjoy your dinner.”

“Wait!” Kalim ran up to him before he could turn to leave. “We’ll have a birthday party tomorrow for Tidus, one of our residents. It’s also gonna be a celebration for the end of our exams! It’s right after Flying class. Can you please attend? We’d love to have you as a guest! And Jade and Floyd! To thank you guys for bringing Jamil safely back to us. Please? You don’t have to bring any gifts!”

The mention of Jade reminded Azul of what he said on the phone about repaying Kalim’s favor.

“Will you let me help with the preparations?” Azul asked. “I still haven’t repaid you for helping me with Alchemy last week. I know you don’t want me to repay you at all,” Azul held up a hand before Kalim could object, “but since you want me to attend and I want to repay you, it’s a good compromise, don’t you think?”

“Hmmm, okay!” Kalim grinned. “I’m just happy you’ll be at the party!”

Azul smiled and nodded before walking out of the kitchen.

“Oh!” Kalim said and went back to Jamil. “Azul told me to give you this when you wake up.” He got something out of his pocket and handed it over.

Jamil took the bottle, noticing the familiar blue of the potion that Azul had given him many nights ago.

“He said it would help make you feel better,” Kalim explained.

“Thanks,” Jamil managed, pocketing the bottle. He wondered if Azul gave him that potion again as his payment for working at the Lounge.

“Come on, let’s eat!” Kalim smiled and took a tray from the counter.

Jamil helped him bring all the food to their dining table.

——

“Good job, everyone!” Coach Vargas yelled proudly after the Flying exam. “You’re very lucky to be learning from me. Your flying has improved a lot already! And I knew I made the right decision to assign some students to teach the others! Clearly I have brawn and brains. We all did a great job!” He grinned widely.

The students sighed in relief and some clapped each other on the backs. Floyd rode his broom and flew in circles while whooping with joy and saying that they can finally rest from exams.

Jamil went to get his things when Coach Vargas dismissed them. He had just picked up his backpack and broom when he heard Floyd’s voice behind him.

“Sea snake!”

Floyd had his arm around Kalim, and they were both grinning widely.

“It’s party time! Let’s all head together to Scarabia!”

“Jade and Floyd wanna help with the preparations, too!” Kalim said as Jade and Azul appeared behind him.

“We thank you for your invitation,” Jade said with a hand to his chest.

Jamil looked at Azul to see if he would say something; maybe a sentence or two about how he could finally repay Kalim’s favor, but Azul stayed quiet, standing beside Jade with his bag and broom and not looking at any of them.

“Let’s go,” he said when he realized they were just waiting for him.

——

Kalim had wanted it to be a pool party, so it was going to be held at the oasis. Jamil assigned the Scarabia residents to bring out the long dining tables and set them up. The tables had to be far away from the pool to make room for the parade that Kalim wanted to do; the Light Music Club was going to perform some songs and then everyone would walk to the pool while the other Scarabia residents joined in playing the lively music.

Jamil also assigned the Octavinelle Trio to help with the dining set-up while he prepared the smaller tables and cottages around the pool area. He wanted to be as far away from Azul as he could, especially after last night.

He had felt vulnerable when he was thanking Azul, it was just luck that Kalim had interrupted them before he could say anything else. And he had almost asked Azul to stay for dinner, despite hearing him say blatantly that the Lounge was his priority. He was glad he didn’t ask him to stay; he obviously didn’t want to, judging from how quickly he left at the first opportunity.

Jamil knew he shouldn’t let anyone get too close, especially not someone who was only interested in balancing favors and profiting from poor students he could swindle. He was glad that the Flying exam was over and he wouldn’t have to spend time with Azul anymore; he just had to come up with a favor to ask from him and they would never have to interact again.

He froze momentarily while setting up one of the foldable wooden tables. Something seemed to catch in his throat at the thought of that, at the thought of never spending time with Azul again.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, lightly punching the surface of the table. The sting on his knuckles helped him think more logically; he must have just gotten used to seeing Azul every afternoon for flying practice. He quickly got used to his presence, he would quickly get used to his absence as well.

Jamil didn’t notice that the table was on fire until the flames reached his knuckles that were still pressed against the wood.

He jumped back and got his magic pen from his pocket, summoning water from the pool and drenching the table.

“Vice Prefect?”

Jamil whipped around and blocked the scorched and dripping table from view. “Yes?”

“Which snacks should we bring over here?” Violetti asked. The purple-haired resident was Tidus’ best friend and was one of the main people helping out for the party. Jamil should have expected him to be here.

“Uh, mostly the chocolates and chips, just the light ones so no one would get in the pool with a full stomach,” Jamil replied.

Violetti nodded and left as quickly as he appeared.

Jamil sighed. He knew that Violetti was one of the few residents who still didn’t fully trust him ever since his Overblot. Some of them wouldn’t even talk to him unless absolutely necessary. He was just relieved that Violetti didn’t see him set the table on fire; he didn’t need rumors to spread that he was sabotaging parties now.

Looking around to make sure that there was no one else in the area, Jamil inspected the table. Almost the entire surface was burnt and it would take a long time to fix it with magic, if he even dared to do that. His magic was being unstable, and he didn’t want to use it until he figured out what was happening. For now, the tablecloth would have to suffice in covering up the damage.

He took a few moments to calm down and then went to put away the few brooms that were scattered around; some residents had come straight from Flying class too before helping set up the oasis, and they had left their brooms there when they went to help with the dining area.

Jamil picked up a broom that looked similar to Azul’s, and it reminded him of a particular practice session when Idia and Cater arrived; the Ignihyde Prefect had collided with Azul, and Jamil had been terrified when he fell off his broom.

It didn’t make sense to him afterwards why he felt that way, because he’d seen Azul regularly fall down at Flying class and he had never been worried. But on that day, he couldn’t explain the fear he felt when Azul fell, much less the surge of relief when he managed to catch him.

Jamil threw down the broom in anger, then blinked in confusion about why he felt angry in the first place.

His vision began to turn red at the edges, and as the color grew to cover everything in a scarlet hue, so did the anger grow inside him.

No.

Jamil tried to run to one of the cottages and hide, but he barely made it a step before he felt his anger spike and he dropped to his knees, his hands on the sand. He could feel his magic inside him like an angry beast waiting to be unleashed, and it was all he could do to remain in control of his mind while flickering black ink started to pool under his palms.

“Vice Prefect?” Violetti's voice called out.

No. Leave.

Jamil tried to shout a warning, but all that came out was a hoarse gasp as his mind kept slipping.

With all the energy he could muster, he got up and walked away as fast as his shaking legs could carry him, not knowing where he was headed.

The scarlet hue in his vision turned darker and darker, and he felt himself collapsing again as his strength left him.

Thud!

“Damn,” Azul cursed and brushed the sand from his pants as he stood up.

He had been hanging party streamers around the few trees that were in the desert when he stepped too far to the side and fell off the ladder. He really wasn’t made for being high up.

“Oof,” he heard Tidus say behind him. “Are you okay, Azul?”

The blond birthday celebrant had insisted on helping prepare the party despite Kalim telling him that he shouldn't, so Azul respected him despite having a loud and airhead energy that reminded him of Ace. Everyone else had gone to Scarabia to get the food and it was just the two of them at the moment.

“Yes,” Azul adjusted his glasses, missing the convenience of the special goggles that never needed adjusting. “At least the sand here is softer than the grounds in Flying class.” He moved his ankle back and forth, frowning at the dull ache.

“Sorry,” Tidus scratched his head. “It was Violetti's idea to put up streamers, I'd told him that we always had those at my birthday parties at home.”

“Hm, how thoughtful,” Azul said nonchalantly as he stared up at the trees, wondering whether he should attempt to put more streamers in the higher branches. As the owner of the Lounge, he must keep up his reputation of being able to decorate any place for celebrations.

“Why don't you just levitate the streamers up there?” Tidus asked.

Azul looked down; he didn't want to explain that he had been afraid to use magic ever since he saw Jamil pass out from Overblot visions. That was none of anyone's business.

“I left my magic pen in the pocket of my dorm uniform, it's at the bottom of my bag and would be a real hassle to get.” It was true, he buried it in his bag so he wouldn't get tempted. “Besides, this is a simple task that even non-magical people can accomplish.”

He was about to climb the ladder again when he heard a voice calling out.

“Help!” Violetti flew in on his broom. “Vice Prefect fainted in the pool! I can't swim, I'm sorry—” his terrified eyes were filled with tears.

“What?!” Tidus' voice rose in panic.

Azul felt his breath stop like his heart had fallen to his stomach.

He reached out and his broom flew to his hand.

“Whoa!” Tidus looked back and forth between the dining table and Azul. “Wasn't that on the chair a second ago?”

Azul mounted his broom and kicked upwards, ignoring the sudden pain in his ankle as he flew up.

He leaned as far forward as his balance would allow him, willing the broom to go faster.

The pool appeared, glittering in the distance. Azul spurred his broom directly over it and jumped.

Bubbles covered his vision as he went underwater. He adjusted his glasses and frantically looked around for any sign of Jamil.

There he was, his unmoving form steadily sinking to the bottom of the pool.

Azul kicked to propel himself forward—“AGH!”

A blinding pain shot up from his ankle and brought tears to his eyes.

He helplessly looked at Jamil getting further away as he realized that the injury on his ankle must have been a lot worse than he thought.

“No, Jamil…”

He’d never reach him in time using just one leg to swim.

Unless…

Jamil felt his lungs filling with water as he sank deeper. He had tried to swim at first, but his limbs felt like lead, and he was barely hanging on to consciousness.

He felt something soft firmly wrap around his waist and slowly lift him.

He wasn’t sure if he was already hallucinating from the lack of oxygen, but he thought he saw a few more of those things fitted with suction cups.

Are those… tentacles? he thought before the darkness overtook him.

——

Jamil squinted and shielded his eyes from the bright light above him. He felt a blanket and heard the hum of an air-conditioner.

Sitting up slowly, he looked around and confirmed that he was in the infirmary.

“How do you feel?”

He turned and saw Azul sitting on the edge of the bed next to him.

“The truth, please. Don’t just say you’re fine, you were underwater for quite some time, you know.”

Jamil shifted in his seat. “I’m still feeling a bit out of it. How long have I been out?”

“A few hours,” Azul glanced at the clock. “They postponed the party to wait for you to wake up; the nurses just had to tell them to wait outside because they were crowding you. Kalim was crying.”

Jamil was about to ask why Azul wasn’t ushered out when he saw the bandage around his ankle. “What happened to you?” He nodded at the bandage.

“Ah,” Azul looked down at his ankle like he had forgotten about it. “I fell from the ladder while hanging up party streamers. No one cried over it.”

Jami couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him. He noticed Azul’s damp hair and change of clothes for the first time, and remembered what he had last seen before losing consciousness.

“Azul?” He furrowed his brows.

“Hm?”

“Did you rescue me in your merform?” He decided it was best to get straight to the point.

Azul opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again and bowed his head like he was ashamed.

“Thank you,” Jamil said gently. He didn’t know why Azul seemed embarrassed, but he hoped he hadn’t said anything bad. “You’ve repaid me for those flying lessons now,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

It was Azul’s turn to chuckle. “Yes, I suppose I have.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts.

“I should let the others know you’re awake,” Azul said. “So they don’t worry so much.” He stood up and walked to the door, a slight limp in his stride.

Jamil watched him walking away and realized he didn’t want the others to show up just yet. He wanted to cherish these quiet moments with Azul.

“Azul?” He said again just before Azul reached the door.

“Yes?” Azul turned to face him.

Maybe he could ask him to stay. Just this once. “We don’t owe each other anything anymore.”

Azul blinked and nodded slowly. “That is correct.”

“I don’t think…” Jamil took a breath. He had to say it. To spare both of them any further pain. “I don’t think we should do each other favors anymore. We’ve been doing favors for each other this past week and it got pretty difficult to keep track of who owed what. I just don’t want a repeat of that and…” I don’t want to end up relying on you.

“I understand,” Azul replied, standing up straighter. “Expecting favors from each other might become a bad habit, yes?” His smile didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

“Yeah, exactly,” Jamil looked down; he wasn’t sure what he was seeing in Azul’s eyes but he didn’t want to see it anymore.

“I should call the others,” Azul went out the door.

The sound of it closing behind him felt like a punch to Jamil’s chest.

——

Swirling sand. The air bathed in a bright red glow as Jamil forced the Scarabia residents on their knees, a deranged laugh emanating from his mouth. Robotic praises rose around him as the mindless residents obeyed his whims.

Jamil sat up in bed, gasping. He saw his bloodshot eyes in his bedroom mirror and he threw the nearest thing he could grab, shattering the glass and destroying his image.

He pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them, sobbing silently into his lap. It seemed like this was one of those nights.

After his tears subsided, he wondered what he had thrown at his mirror. He walked over to it and saw the potion bottle lying on the floor, still intact with the blue liquid lying peacefully inside it.

That was it; he just needed to drink the potion.

He went back to his bed and gulped it down, barely noticing the curry taste.

He held the empty bottle in his hand, staring at it for a few minutes before realizing that maybe he needed something more than a bottle of drinkable comfort food.

He needed…

Azul woke up when his phone rang from his nightstand, wondering who on earth or underwater would call at this hour.

“Hello?” He answered it sleepily with his eyes closed.

“Bad habit, I know, but I need you right now.”

Jamil’s voice startled him awake and he sat up. “Jamil?”

“Can you help me out?” His voice sounded a little strained, like he had just been crying.

“I’ll be right there.”


~*~

When Jaskier woke it was to a steel-gray sky, neither raining nor windy, but heavy all the same. Geralt was already moving around the camp when Jaskier sat up, scrubbing his hands over his face. He stared up at the impenetrable gray. “Did I--?”

Geralt nodded. “I calmed you down.”

“I don’t remember.” His heart felt as flat as the sky.

“I...held your hand until it went away.” Geralt looked uncomfortable and turned to pull food out of his bag.

Jaskier looked down at his empty hands. “Oh.”

Geralt tossed him the last of their bread and an apple, and they ate a quick breakfast in silence. Jaskier stole glances at Geralt, who wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“What’s the matter? You’re even more taciturn than usual.”

“Nothing at all,” Geralt replied, though it sounded like a lie to Jaskier’s ears. “Just thinking ahead to the day.”

“Ah. Right, Yennefer.” He drawled out her name with theatrical dread, though the sentiment was real enough.

Geralt gave him a sharp look and he ducked his head, chastened. Geralt saddled Roach while Jaskier cleaned up their camp, working in practiced motions around each other like well-oiled cogs in a clock. There was comfort in the ritual.

“With luck we’ll find her in the next few hours, and you’ll be able to sulk and scream and laugh as much as you like,” Geralt said neutrally, tying off the last of their bags onto Roach’s saddle. “We’ll ride together. It’s not far to the town.”

Jaskier knew it was such a short amount of time really, that they were lucky to be so close to his possible salvation, but time seemed to slow, and all he could think of was how much longer he’d have to hold it together. All he wanted was to go back to pining in silence and sublimating any wayward emotions that might jeopardize his friendship with Geralt.

Secondary only to his fear of Geralt finding out his true feelings, was Yennefer finding them out. He knew that she’d be able to read him as easily as a book, if she got her fingers in his brain, and given his recent luck with witches it seemed likely that he’d be sharing all of the most intimate parts of himself very soon, and with someone he loathed.

And he absolutely knew that, no matter his self-control, it would only take one moon-eyed look from Geralt in Yennefer’s direction and there would be scorch marks at their feet from a lightning strike.

~*~

It was unsurprisingly easy to locate Yennefer’s latest abode. Geralt and Jaskier stopped at the first tavern they came to and asked after a sorceress with purple eyes, and were immediately directed to a red-bricked villa that overlooked the town. As they approached the hill and the elaborately curved wrought iron gates came into view, Jaskier’s stomach turned sour at the thought of her.

“Awfully convenient that she happens to be so close when we need her. Were we headed for her all along, Geralt? Is that why you knew where she was?”

Geralt grunted and didn’t answer for a while, and Jaskier bit his tongue. It was none of his business. It shouldn’t matter. Finally Geralt just said, “We never seem to be very far from each other.”

Jaskier held his breath until lights danced before his eyes, then he let it out in a steady stream. The sky remained gray and still.

Yennefer met them at the gate in a black dress heavily embroidered with white roses, her hair caught up in an intricate tumble of curls, and a wry smile on her perfect face. “Must you only turn up when you want something?”

“How do you know we--oh right. Magic.” Jaskier didn’t roll his eyes, but it was a close thing.

“Yenn,” Geralt said, his voice softer than usual, “It’s good to see you. And we do need your help.”

They dismounted and she led them toward the stable, indicating it with a graceful sweep of her hand. “I’ll be in the garden when you’re finished. Bard, with me.”

Jaskier followed her to a walled garden next to the main house, exquisitely designed with a winding gravel path and a riotous abundance of flowers, almost certainly tended by magic. She sat on a marble bench under a heavy arch of lush scarlet roses, and after an awkward moment he joined her there. He didn’t explain his situation, as it appeared he didn’t need to.

She stared at him for a while, and her gaze was shrewd, piercing. “I can see it as plain as day. It’s an inventive curse, but one cast in haste. There should be gaps I might pry into, if we’re lucky.”

He felt such a visceral rush of heart-pounding relief that the sky began to darken, and Jaskier covered his face with shaking hands and breathed slowly, focusing on the scent of the roses until the gathering storm clouds dissipated. “I wasn’t built for this kind of thing. Moderation of emotion.”

Yennefer smiled, and it was only a little sarcastic. “I imagine you’ve never had a moderate day in your life, bard. That’s no doubt why this curse was chosen for you.”

Jaskier nodded. “She chose perfectly.”

“How did it happen?” Her voice was dry, unaffected, but her purple eyes glinted with curiosity. “Did you sleep with her? Steal from her? Did you compose a terrible song for her?”

“She killed twelve people and stole their organs to try to create the eternal youth that Aretuza denied her.”

Yennefer blinked.

“We tried to stop her. She cursed Jaskier and portalled away,” Geralt said, joining them and standing at Jaskier’s side. He briefly touched Jaskier’s shoulder, and Jaskier shivered. A flicker of her shadowed eyelids told him that it hadn’t escaped Yennefer’s notice.

“Why Jaskier, of all people?” She spoke to Geralt as though Jaskier wasn’t even there.

Jaskier frowned at her. “So I’m not worthy of even a curse, now?”

“Jaskier.” Geralt didn’t sound amused, but Yennefer laughed.

“Only you, bard, would take that as an insult.”

“She thought he was feisty, and she looked inside his mind. She said he was hiding secrets, called him ‘lightning in a bottle.’”

Jaskier swivelled to look up at Geralt. “Can I tell my own story, please?”

Yennefer tilted her head. “What was her name?”

“Theda.”

Her face did a complicated thing that Jaskier couldn’t quite read. Her hands twitched in her lap, just enough to catch Jaskier’s attention.

“You know her?” Geralt asked, stepping close enough to brush Jaskier’s arm where he sat. He couldn’t help but lean ever so slightly against Geralt’s warmth, a nearly imperceptible touch.

“I know of her,” Yennefer clarified. “She came long after my time at Aretuza, but there have been rumors. As I heard it, she was the first of her class to catch lightning in a bottle and the first to master alchemical creation. She also cursed two of her classmates who looked as though they might surpass her in power, and one of them died. She was denied final transformation and expelled.”

Jaskier scoffed. “Seems like the wrong tactic to take with someone who is powerful and crazy.”

Yennefer smiled wryly. “I’ll be the first to tell you that not everything that occurs within Aretuza’s hallowed halls is right, or fair.”

“Yenn, can you help?” Geralt’s tone was soft with her, always, and it made Jaskier’s chest tighten painfully. He found his gaze drawn to Yennefer’s, and he was curiously able to bring himself under control before even a breath of wind could disturb them. Yennefer nodded slightly, approving, knowing.

“I can try,” she answered, looking up at Geralt. “I’ll need to examine him first.”

“Whatever you need,” Jaskier said, getting quickly to his feet. Geralt’s hand was briefly at his back, steadying him. “Point the way.”

Yennefer led them through the villa, past servants who bobbed in deference while she breezed by without notice. It was a beautiful place, and everywhere were Yennefer’s touches of decadence. Rich colors and luxurious textures everywhere lent an air of sensuality that made Jaskier both intrigued and slightly nervous. He expected to see an orgy in every room they passed, but the villa seemed to be occupied only by Yennefer and the servants.

“Where is the gentleman of the house?” Jaskier asked archly.

“Oh, he doesn’t live here,” Yennefer said with a wave of her hand. “This is for my personal use. His wife prefers it that way. As do I.”

“You’re using him to get his house?”

“He’s more than happy to be used, trust me.”

Jaskier stole a glance at Geralt, whose face was as impassive as ever.

They followed her to a richly furnished library with tall windows that overlooked the gardens. The room now clearly served as Yennefer’s workshop. A large table held glass jars of mysterious concoctions, fragrant powders in bowls, stones that glittered. Books with tattered pages lay strewn about beside quills and ink pots and dried bundles of herbs. It was nothing at all like Jaskier would have imagined, had he given any thought to such a thing.

“How do you find anything here?” he asked, poking at a large crystal. Yennefer glared and slapped his hand.

“I have a system,” she said. “No one has had any complaints about my quality of service.”

“And what service do you provide, exactly?”

“The service of curing rude bards of their unfortunate curses, out of the goodness of my heart.”

“You have one of those?”

“Jaskier.” Geralt pinned him with a quelling look.

Jaskier bit his lip and tried to look innocent.

“I think we could all do with some wine first, don’t you?” Yennefer’s voice was richly amused, and when Jaskier turned to look at her she just raised an eyebrow.

“I could drink,” Jaskier replied.

Geralt shrugged.

“And for the gods’ sake, Geralt, take off your swords. You’ll find no harpies here.”

Jaskier opened his mouth, and then closed it again when Geralt pointed a finger at him.

~*~

Two glasses of wine later Jaskier found himself collapsed sideways on a reclining couch beneath the tall windows, his head on a cushion and his wine glass dangling over the edge. He blamed his sudden weakness on sleeping poorly the night before, but it was possible that Yennefer had slipped something into his wine. He wouldn’t put it past her. Geralt was seated in a wingback chair with his own glass of wine, looking distinctly uncomfortable, and Yennefer was at her table flipping through a book that looked at least as old as she probably was.

Jaskier drained his glass in defiance of his possible poisoning, and watched Geralt, who was watching him back. “What?” he asked finally. “Did I spill wine on myself?”

Geralt’s lips did a thing that almost looked like a smile. He shook his head.

“Your clothes may be free of wine but they are full of dust and sweat and who knows what else. You’re both bathing before you even think of sleeping here.” She didn’t bother to look up at either of them.

Jaskier felt a blush rise in his cheeks, and Geralt looked at the floor.

“Alright,” Yennefer said finally, closing her book and setting aside a chunk of citrine she had been idly playing with while she read. She came around her table and strode purposefully toward him. “I need a peek inside your head, bard.”

He had known it was coming, but it still filled him with dread. “There’s really no other way, is there?”

Yennefer’s gaze softened minutely. “Not if you want me to understand the curse.”

Jaskier set down his glass and started to sit up, but she forestalled him with a hand on his shoulder. She urged him to lie on his back on the couch just as he had been, and she sat down beside his hip.

“This should hurt far less now that you’ve relaxed a bit.”

“Of all the things I never wanted to hear from Yennefer of Vengerberg…” It wasn’t his wittiest response, but he was nervous, and it made Yennefer purse her lips almost fondly. Geralt didn’t say a word.

“If you’re quite finished,” she said, and reached for Jaskier’s head. He caught her wrist in a reaction that startled both of them.

“Can we do this without--without an audience?” he asked carefully, and before Yennefer could even open her mouth Jaskier heard the quick, heavy tread of Geralt’s boots and the closing of the door.

“Well, that was...odd. Then again, it is Geralt,” Yennefer said, staring at the door.

Jaskier swallowed hard. “I’m ready, so do your worst. Well, actually, please don’t. You know what I mean.”

Yennefer hesitated. “I don’t know what it was like when Theda did it, but I’ll certainly see things you don’t wish me to see. If I could look away, I would, believe me. I have no desire to see your intimate exploits with barmaids any more than you wish to show them to me, I’m sure.”

“We’ll just have to agree not to say anything about it, then.” It was a vain hope, he knew.

“Hmm,” she said, sounding like Geralt, then her cool fingers were pressed to his temples and she was inside his head like a thousand radiating silver threads of a spiderweb. It wasn’t agony like before, but it still felt invasive and he shrank from it as the threads caught and tugged on pieces of himself he’d rather keep hidden.

“Jaskier,” he heard her say from a long distance, “relax. Breathe deeply.”

His body breathed for him at her insistence, but his mind still struggled in her web. Dimly he heard the sound of rain and the howl of wind.

“Let go of it, Jaskier. I need to see it.”

He could feel tears rolling down his cheeks, could hear the rain on the window, and he let her see.

After Yennefer removed her fingertips from his skin they sat quietly for a minute while the storm raged outside. There were many emotions on her face, half turned away from him, but surprise wasn’t one of them. Jaskier wiped the tears from his cheeks and sat up, hearing a banging sound. Yennefer moved gracefully to the door and opened it for Geralt, who looked worried to the point of anger.

“What happened?” he growled, striding over to Jaskier, who looked away.

“It was difficult to see how interwoven the curse is with his mind,” Yennefer said briskly. “I had to follow some of the paths that Theda took.”

“Can you not see what I see out there?” Geralt demanded as he pointed to the window, and there was nothing soft about his voice now. “That’s what he feels right now.”

“Calm him, then. I have no talent for such things.” She retreated behind her desk and picked up her crystal again, turning it over and over in her hands.

Geralt took Jaskier’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “Jaskier, look at me.”

He looked into Geralt’s frustrated golden eyes and lightning flashed outside. Thunder rattled the glass panes and Jaskier whimpered. Geralt tipped their foreheads together and his breath washed warm across Jaskier’s cheek.

“Focus,” he said, and Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s hand, focusing on the strong grip, the callouses, the scarred knuckles. In the midst of his torment he forgot to be afraid, and there were no more flashes of light, no more thunder. The wind died down and the rain fell softly against the glass.

When even the rain was gone Jaskier stepped away, releasing Geralt’s hand. Oddly, Geralt looked just as bereft as Jaskier felt. Yennefer cleared her throat and Jaskier jumped guiltily.

“Well, I’m afraid the garden may not recover,” she said drily, but her gaze was on Jaskier and not the garden.

He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Sorry,” he muttered, and looked out at the slate-gray sky. No sunlight tried to shine through this time.

“I can’t break this curse.”

Her words were followed by silence. Outside, water dripped from the top of the window frame to the bottom, a slow and steady metronome.

Jaskier went to the side table to refill his wine glass and no one stopped him.

“If not you, then who?” Geralt sounded bewildered, something that Jaskier couldn’t recall Geralt being before. It said a lot about his unshakeable faith in her.

Yennefer’s mouth twisted. “Theda.”

“Bollocks,” Jaskier whispered, then sighed.

“She may have cursed you in haste, but it was far more seamless than I had expected.”

“Meaning?” Jaskier took a healthy swallow of wine and it burned in the back of his throat.

“Meaning there are no places to dig in my fingers, so to speak, without ripping out parts of you altogether.” She rolled her crystal from one hand to the other, her rings clicking on the stone. “Which I can do, if you wish. But you’ll never get those pieces back.”

“No. We’ll find her, we’ll do whatever it takes,” Geralt vowed, and Jaskier looked at him, startled, then nodded.

“I’d rather keep all the parts of myself intact, thank you. For better or for worse, they are mine.”

Yennefer shrugged. “Then your only option is to find Theda and get her to remove the curse.”

“But how are we supposed to do that?” Jaskier threw his arms wide, encompassing the whole of the rain-drenched countryside out the window. “And how many times will I put people in danger as we search? One of these storms might turn into something deadly. They’re getting harder to stop.”

“What about the castle you saw through the portal?” Geralt asked, and Jaskier paused, remembering.

“Describe it to me,” Yennefer said, curious.

Jaskier recalled every detail he could, down to the crumbling outer wall and the town at the base of the hill, a glittering lake beyond, a mountain with three peaks in the distance. Yennefer smiled triumphantly when he was finished.

“I’ve been there,” she said, turning to sift through the chaos that was her work table. “Very interesting little place. I spent a month there selling charms, and no one tried to extort me. They’re very tolerant of magic wielders, which is likely why she chose to go there. I imagine she thought she could hide in plain sight for some time.”

Geralt let out a relieved sigh, and Jaskier darted a glance at him. Jaskier was also obviously relieved, but he was surprised to hear Geralt express it.

“Can you take us there?” Jaskier entreated, watching Yennefer shuffle aside papers with a slight frown. “And what are you looking for?”

“I can open a portal for you.” She peered inside a small chest and nodded to herself. “As to what I’m looking for, I’ll explain tomorrow. Tonight you’ll stay here.”

Jaskier shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sure if you just open the portal now, we could--”

“It’s nearly sundown,” she pointed out. “And you won’t find her at night. You can rest here, we have plenty of rooms. And bathtubs.”

Geralt hummed and nodded. “Thank you. We’ll do better after a good night of sleep.”

Jaskier bit his tongue and looked away from both of them.

~*~

After a brief and awkwardly tense dinner, in which no one said much of import and they each seemed to be dancing around something unspoken, Yennefer escorted them to the guest rooms. Jaskier’s room was pointed out first. He watched Geralt walk down the hall beside Yennefer and had to swallow around the lump in his throat. He had to take several deep breaths before he could look away.

The room Jaskier had been offered was more than adequate, with a spacious bed that looked decadently soft, and a bathing area separated from the main room by a partition. Servants brought in buckets of hot water while Jaskier pulled out his clothes from his bag. He had nothing clean to change into, besides spare smallclothes.

“I’m instructed to take your clothes for washing,” a maid said, appearing at his elbow. She watched while he undressed unselfconsciously, and gave him a slow, sideways smile as she took the pile of clothes from him. Jaskier understood her meaning well enough. He thought for a moment about indulging himself, though it would be a poor substitute for the pleasure he longed for. In the end he just returned her smile with an apologetic expression and a little shake of his head.

He wandered to the window to watch the sky while the servants finished filling the bathtub, making sure that the weather remained stable in spite of the jealousy roiling in his gut. He didn’t know for sure where Geralt was spending the night, but he had a pretty good guess. He only hoped they were on the far side of the villa so he wouldn’t have to hear them.

Before he stepped into the bath Jaskier removed the bandages on his hands. Geralt’s salve had done quick work, and the rings on his wrists were nearly healed, leaving faint red lines. His knuckles were still a little raw where he had punched the tree, and he felt ashamed of himself and his lack of control. He wondered if there would be scars.

Jaskier sank into the water and sighed, letting the heat pull the tension out of his shoulders. He washed slowly with the lavender soap that had been provided, grateful for the luxury of a bathtub he could easily fit in and the collection of oils and salts on a little shelf within reach. It had been many, many months since he’d had such a pleasure.

Soon, however, his thoughts came back around to Yennefer and Geralt, and he felt a rising tension that was both bitter jealousy and hot desire. Not for Yennefer, though she was beautiful enough, but for imagining Geralt in a decadent bed like the one in his own room, silk sheets and a velvet counterpane in rich jewel tones that would complement Geralt’s pale skin.

Jaskier felt his cock begin to fill and he snuck his hand around it, slipping in the warm water. He thought of Geralt’s pleasure soaked sighs, which he had heard through the fabric of tents and the thin walls of rented rooms. It was impossible to know a man for a decade and not hear such things. He knew that Geralt was not a vocal lover, no more so than he was in conversation, but his shuddering sighs were more than enough to fuel Jaskier’s fantasies.

He groaned quietly, squeezing his cock harder and lifting his hips into the sensation. He imagined Geralt’s hand on him, larger and more calloused, rougher than Jaskier was used to, and he trembled enough to splash water up the sides of the tub. He opened his eyes, startled, and happened to look at the window as he reoriented himself.

Lightning flashed in the distance, and the branches of the tree outside his window waved in the wind. Jaskier cried out in dismay and yanked his hand away from his cock, taking heaving breaths and gripping the sides of the bathtub until his knuckles cracked.

There was a knock on the door and Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut. “A moment, please,” he called, trying to make his voice as even and calm as possible.

He dried himself quickly and put on the only thing he had to wear, his smallclothes, and went to the door. He was shocked to see Geralt in the doorway, a concerned look on his face.

“I…” Geralt began, looking at Jaskier’s bare chest and then up at his face. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Jaskier said stiffly, glad that his cock had softened at least, though the tension that coiled through him still remained. “Just a bit overwhelmed, I think.”

Geralt looked over his shoulder to the window, and Jaskier glanced at it too. The storm had continued to brew, the tree now lashing at the glass. “Do you need my help?”

Jaskier bit his lip and shook his head. “Best not, I think,” he said, but was unable to offer any further explanation when Geralt tilted his head in confusion.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Geralt said slowly, turning away.

He hadn’t made it five paces before Jaskier called out, “Geralt. Would you?”

Geralt came back and nodded, relief clear in his eyes. “What do you need?”

You. Always you.

The lines were blurring, his desires confusing, but still he held out his hand. Geralt didn’t hesitate to take it, and Jaskier closed his eyes. His heartbeat kicked hard in his chest, but as he forced himself to breathe he heard Geralt doing the same, giving him a slow rhythm to try to match. Geralt’s hand squeezed his and he returned the gesture, and eventually he calmed.

“Good,” Geralt whispered, and Jaskier opened his eyes. The wind had died down again, and the storm was dissipating. He took a deep breath and tried on a relieved smile.

“Thank you, Geralt,” he said, and Geralt nodded.

“I can stay.”

“Stay?” Jaskier asked, slow to understand.

“If you want. For the dreams.” He looked earnest and serious, and Jaskier raised his eyebrows.

“And what of Yennefer? Won’t she be waiting for you?”

Geralt frowned. “Yenn is in her room, I suspect. I have my own.”

Jaskier stared, still uncomprehending.

“She’s not waiting for me,” Geralt clarified.

“Oh,” Jaskier said, and then without fully appreciating the consequences he stepped aside and let Geralt in. It was only then that he noticed Geralt was only wearing his smallclothes and a clean shirt that clung to his damp skin, and his hair was still wet from his bath.

“You’ve let your hair tangle again,” Jaskier said, smiling in spite of everything. “Come here.”

Geralt followed him silently to the bathing area and sat on a stool there for Jaskier to comb out the tangles for him. It was a time-honored tradition, platonic yet intimate, that always soothed Jaskier’s heart. He might not be allowed to touch anything else, but he could do this for Geralt. He could take this small pleasure for himself and hold it close.

Once finished, he set the comb aside and ran his fingers through Geralt’s hair, checking for tangles, and Geralt leaned into the touch with a little hum. Gently, Jaskier removed his hands and backed away. He busied himself with stoking the fire in the hearth until it was high enough to warm the room again, then looked back.

Geralt had climbed into bed, carefully occupying no more than his share of the bed despite his muscular bulk. The sight of him against midnight blue silk sheets made Jaskier’s mouth water and his belly tighten. Geralt’s white hair spilled across the pillow like moonlight, Jaskier’s poetic heart noted, and he cursed himself for his foolishness.

Jaskier slid in beside him and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Beneath the bedclothes, Geralt’s hand tentatively tucked Jaskier’s into a loose grip, reassuring and solid. Jaskier closed his eyes and breathed. He wanted, and wanted, and wanted, but it was nothing new. He’d lived with this for years, he reminded himself, and he’d live with it for years to come. He must.

His fingertips rested on the pulse in Geralt’s wrist, and he fell asleep counting the slow beats.

~*~