Bael took a deep, ragged breath.

A skeletal finger passed over the filthy, matted fur of the stuffed rabbit. Despite the absence of flesh he still possessed the sense of touch. What was once an object of great comfort now presented nothing to assuage his fears. How could a cold remnant of lost time hope to heal him, when he knew the warmth of compassion? His fingers flinched as yearning consumed him; the hunger to touch a human once more. A human he might dare to consider his.

“You’re right, Lance, that is an awfully big ask,” he returned with a weak laugh.

Lance did it again, that thoughtless action that covered Bael’s body with goosebumps. He didn’t interlock his fingers with Bael’s messy locks, nor did Lance grip him tightly to usurp control. No, Lance’s featherlight touch merely smoothed down stray strands of hair or simply stroked the back of Bael’s head in soothing circles. It was addictive, being handled like a treasure in this way. Never had Bael felt delicate and handled with care in the arms of another, nor was it something he desired. This man, however, Bael never wished to stop.

He wanted to ask for more, but couldn’t fathom what or how much more he needed. Instead, Bael mulled in silence as he prepared to immerse himself in a history that pained him to recall.

“It may not sound like much, but if you do this for me I’ll tell you a secret of my own. Something I’ve not ever told anyone. Not Orwen, Aryn, or even my mother,” Lance offered, nuzzling his chin against the top of Bael’s head.

At one point in time Bael had mocked Lance for his tendency to be a sentimental sap, having found it a weakness in the other man and not something to admire. Now, Bael wondered who could have given up being the object of Lance’s affection, and how had Bael come to deserve that role instead?

“Promise?” Bael asked meekly, head tilted just enough that his mouth was a hair’s breadth away from the base of Lance’s throat. The dip of his collarbone achingly close, tantalizing Bael’s suppressed desire.

“As long as you’re honest with me it only seems fair,” Lance said, stumbling over his words as his composure faltered.

Bael surmised that he was either frightened of Bael’s truth or nervous to divulge his own. Either way, Bael wished he could wordlessly ease Lance’s tension as he had done for Bael. All Bael knew how to do was cling to him with a silent plea to never let go.

“Where do you want me to start?” Bael asked, knowingly prolonging the inevitable.

“Well, if I may, I would wish to address the elephant in the room,” Lance replied. An idle hand of his made its way to rest atop Bael’s thigh, rhythmically tapping his fingers against his leg.

Bael immediately turned his head downward to observe the nonchalant action. “Suffering from wandering hands, are we?” he teased.

“I was just thinking the floor seems awfully cold. If it’s bothering you you could sit on my lap. That- uh- that is if you want to, anyway.”

“You’re sitting on the floor too, you know.”

“Oh, well that’s no problem,” Lance began sheepishly. “I can be a bit of a natural heater, you see. And if you just, you know, wanted to not be cold it could help.”

“Lance.”

“Y-yes?”

“Just say what you really want. You’re atrocious at flirting,” Bael shot back, hiding a stupid grin on his face.

“Would you- uh, would you want to sit on my lap? Because I’d like it an awful lot if you did.”

He was still physically drained from his panic attack, but Bael managed to find the strength to lift himself off the floor just enough to slide onto Lance’s lap. It was a comfortable fit nestled between Lance’s legs, with Bael’s body quickly wrapped up in his arms. Lance hummed with jovial satisfaction, reflexively squeezing periodically. Such a small act and Bael could sense how he lifted Lance’s spirits immensely. It was too adorable for words.

“Was this your ‘elephant’ so to speak?” Bael asked?

Silence. Bael’s fingers prodded Lance’s chest firmly yet still received no response. Then he began to snap his fingers directly in front of the other man’s face, chanting Lance’s name in a myriad of different voices and octaves. Eventually Lance was roused from wheresoever his mind had wandered, blinking while his brows furrowed as he took in his current circumstances.

“You do that a lot. The spacing out thing, I mean,” Bael noted.

Lance averted his eyes nervously and neglected to give a response.

It amused Bael to no end how Lance tore into this place like a spitfire, but once the smoke settled he returned to being surprisingly docile. Anger appeared to come to him only out of necessity, and being gentle was his true self. Bael was envious of this nature but only out of admiration. Too often his stubborn, vitriolic ways did more to hurt than they ever did to help him. Perhaps his evident attachment to this human all began from a single act of unwarranted kindness.

No, it was without doubt that was the case. A brief flash of a night spent by fireside. It was just last night in the eyes of the world, but to them it was a long gone beginning of understanding. Compassion that would not be undone despite Bael’s persistent attempts to be its undoing.

Bael pressed his head against Lance’s chest, the soft drum of life doing wonders to melt away his apprehensions. It was at this action that Lance sharply inhaled and his body grew rigid.

“Forgive me,” Lance pleaded. “I know moving forward is out of the question lest we expose our truths. I wanted to pause and hold onto this moment for a bit longer. Just in case.”

“There’s nothing you can tell me that could make me despise you. The opposite is much more likely,” Bael answered, a bitter note hiding amidst his words. “You shouldn’t wish to linger in the presence of someone you may come to detest.”

Lance tensed but soon after took a deep breath. “I’m not afraid of you no matter how much you believe I should be. It’s not your past or your secrets that frighten me.” He shifted in place before tightening his hold around Bael’s torso. “It’s the worry that nothing is forever. How quickly a mind can change in the face of strife. At this moment I’m happy, and I don’t ever want to forget how that feels. I want this memory seared into my soul, so that even if this time fades away into nothing it will live with me.”

“And” -Lance shifted his head to press his cheek against Bael’s forehead, his legs curling tighter around them both- “if somehow we part ways forever I don’t want you to forget it either. A selfish wish of mine, but I won’t ask forgiveness for it.”

“I could never forget anything about you,” Bael whispered, chest beginning to ache.

“Maybe not next week or in a month, no, but in five years? Ten? Nothing lasts forever, Bael. Even if we’re still in each other’s lives the memory will fade.”

I’ll remember this time with you till the day I die.

“Enough being sentimental and foreboding, please,” Bael requested, the fist around his heart squeezing tighter still. “Just tell me where you want me to start before I lose the will to keep my word.”

“Start from the beginning. Of everything. I want to know how you began and what brought you to where you are today.”

Bael gave an abrupt laugh. “You’re a cruel one.”

“I’ve an excellent teacher in cruelty. One who teases me mercilessly without end.”

“And you’ve still a lot to learn,” Bael answered with a chuckle. “Right, well, from the beginning then?”

“The very beginning. Spare no details.”

“It was many years ago, but definitely not as many as three decades, that a struggling apothecarist and his wife became parents to a baby boy. Percival was his name, though he did always hate it. Percy was what he preferred yet he hated that too. Truly, parents shouldn’t name children after themselves, but I digress.”

Bael smiled softly, an expression he pressed into Lance’s flesh so that he may feel the emotion. “He was always alone, that troubled young boy. Then his parents had another child. A girl, actually. He dared to hope he might not be alone any longer. Percy anxiously awaited the arrival of his soon to be younger sister, Lily.”

He squeezed the stuffed rabbit tighter into his hold as his breathing accelerated. At first Bael hesitated, waiting for Lance to stir or speak up. Lance remained just as he was.

“Percy never really got to see Lily, and despite how much he wanted to was never permitted to hold her. She’d been sick since birth, you see. The goddesses made her that way, they used to say. They created her that way. Just to die.”

“My- his father was beside himself, and can you blame him?” Bael continued, pausing as his emotions began flooding into his throat against his will. “A medicine maker with a sickly child and he couldn’t make her better. Percival could barely make ends meet before, so there was no way he could afford unproven treatment from someone else. That’s when he heard a rumor that took root in his brain.”

It was at this moment that Bael chanced a look upward. Lance’s expressive hazel eyes greeted him, affection emanating from a look only puppies should be capable of wearing. He understood too well at this moment how Lance wished to savor a happy moment together. Bael wanted to memorize each line of Lance’s face, from the crease of his forehead to how his hair fell across his cheek.

“He learned of a toadstool that grew in the Lost Woods. One that could cure any illness,” Bael continued after a ragged breath. “It didn’t take long for him to become obsessed that this was the answer. It was then he whisked away his wife and young son in search of this cure. Lily was left behind in the care of a relative, much too young and frail to survive in the wilderness.”

Lance’s jaw shifted before clamping shut once more. His eyes closed partially in a look of uncertainty. Bael smiled to affirm the assumptions Lance was most likely arriving at.

“She was so young and could only speak simply, but when Percy told her goodbye she- ah-,” Bael stopped as a sob wracked his chest.

Without delay Lance quickly began stroking his hand across Bael’s back in a soothing motion. Lance began to shush Bael softly as one would do for a child. His breath was hot as it caressed Bael’s ear.

“She gave him her favorite toy. A stuffed rabbit to take with him, because he was scared and he needed it more than she did. He promised to bring it back with the medicine she needed.”

Bael emitted a low whimper in the back of his throat. “Percy never saw Lily again. It was the first promise he’d ever broken.”

Lance wiped a stray tear that streamed down Bael’s cheek with his thumb. “What happened to Percy and his family?”

“They- ah- they went to the Lost Woods. The children that lived in the forest bade them to leave but Percival was determined. Despite the warnings of what could happen. A man driven by an innate desire to protect his family, I suppose, but truly only beget despair.”

He raised his skeletal hand in front of his face, examining the pristine white bones. Thoughtlessly Bael curled and flexed each digit, unaccustomed to witnessing his mutation. There was a saying, he mused, about knowing something as well as the back of one’s hand. Perhaps it went without question that he understood nothing in this world.

“Deeper, deeper, and deeper still yet they travelled. These woods were vicious and unsavory, not permitting the invaders into its depths the respite of sleep. They stayed awake for days subsisting on rations and foraged food. Optimism withered as madness ravaged Percival. His wife, well, she became catatonic shortly thereafter. Percy, though, that boy never gave up hope. He had a promise to keep, after all.”

Lance reached a hand to glide a cautious finger along the length of Bael’s hand. Reactively, Bael recoiled at the touch but eased as Lance hushed him once more. His sense of touch was limited, yet the sense of heat remained wherever Lance brushed against.

“Percival was the first to be seized by the forest’s curse. It’d seeped into his bones, and so as a result the only that is left is just that. Bones.” Bael cast a wayward glance at the stalfos on the left side, the one whose grasp he had stayed out of reach. After making eye contact, this slightly larger stalfos whined.

“Next was his mother; broken upon seeing her husband transmogrified into a nightmare. Her last words in this world were commanding Percy to run. But he didn’t, as you can imagine. He stayed right there with them.” Bael took a shaky breath, his unoccupied hand reaching up to press against his forehead as visions of the past were dredged up in droves. “Percy hunted after that. Searching for his father’s long sought after cure. Unlike his father, however, he found it.”

“Bael, you can take a break if you need to,” Lance spoke up, worry dripping from his lips.

Bael shook his head against Lance’s chest before continuing. “In a fairy circle, under a stream of moonlight, violet toadstools grew untouched by the world around them. He picked three, just three, for his parents and his sister. His parents, now monstrous skeletons, lashed and bit at their first born child, harming more than just his body.” Bael’s teeth gritted as he recalled the scene. “After a great ordeal he forced them to eat it and after that their bodies grew still. Still alive, I assure you, but weakened. They looked up at Percy with childish eyes despite their new horrific form, and as he reached out to touch them he saw it. Flesh was rotting from his hand as the seconds passed.”

“What happened to them was happening to him now,” Lance stated, eyes widening with comprehension.

Bael nodded. “After that the fairies found them. The curse ceased its progression on Percy, but his parents remained completely mindless. The fairies feared them, and at first they considered killing the whole family. One fairy, though, silenced that line of thinking,” Bael added with a small grin. “She asked Percy if he wanted to be a part of their family, as their presence could ward against the forest’s curse. He conceded, now heartbroken, and begged to let him take care of his parents if he agreed.”

“And they agreed,” Lance finished.

“With great reluctance I can assure you.”

Lance’s head rose and Bael watched him stare intently at the stalfos in the room. “So that’s Percival and his wife,” he concluded.

“Terrible of me, isn’t it? I don’t even remember my own mother’s name, being so young at the time,” Bael answered with a despondent laugh. “That’s Mama and Papa.”

“Your name is really Percy?” Lance asked.

Bael shook his head. “Percy died that day. If I was to live amongst the fey I would be named like one. I’m Bael, simple as that.”

“I would definitely have a hard time calling you anything else,” Lance replied, nuzzling his chin on top of Bael’s head.

“There’s more to the story, and- I-” Bael began, stopping to catch his breath as his body seized up. “I want to tell it all to you, I really do, but I can’t. Not yet. I’m afraid. What I told you is the truth, I promise.”

“I know telling me all of that was extremely difficult. Thank you.” Lance dipped his head down, wincing as he must have strained his neck in the process. He brought himself to eye level with Bael.

“I’ve only ever talked about it with Nyx. You’re the first person I’ve told in a very long time,” Bael said, focus shifting to the side away from the hazel eyes trying to peer into his heart.

“I’ll accept that you have other things to tell me and that you will one day. It’s just- ah- I’ve a couple of things I wanted clarification on that I was hoping to learn,” Lance said sheepishly.

“That can probably be done, but you’ll have to stop looking at me like I hung the stars in the sky. It’s a little much,” Bael protested, reaching his uncursed hand up to Lance’s face to push him away by the chin. He wasn’t certain of it, but for a moment Bael believed he caught a mischievous glint in Lance’s eye. That wasn’t something he had time to acknowledge the ramifications of.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” Lance responded. “So- oh how do I put this- so you’re not really a centuries old forest being, right?”

“Correct. And to be fair, I never said I was.”

“You never denied it.”

“You know what they say about assuming too much,” Bael answered, mood lifting as he wiped his eyes and nose on his shirt sleeve.

Lance grumbled but didn’t pursue the matter any further. “How old are you really then?”

Bael answered with an empty gasp of surprise. “I thought a romantic such as yourself would know very well how inappropriate of a question that is to ask.”

“I’ve only ever heard people say that about women,” Lance retorted.

“How old are you, then?” Bael asked, punctuated with a jab to Lance’s stomach.

Lance visibly shifted and his Adam's apple bobbed, a tell-tale sign Bael was learning as a nervous habit of the other man. “I’m...twenty-two,” he whispered.

“You’re such a baby, oh my goodness,” Bael teased.

“Yeah, well, I’m still taller than you.”

“Wow. Low blow.”

“Extra low for you,” Lance countered smugly.

“You know, speaking of low blows, you might want to rethink your words to someone who is perfectly positioned to make that a reality.”

Lance tensed, and it took everything within Bael to stifle that laugh began to erupt from his throat. His hand covered his mouth as he devolved into a fit of giggles and snorts.

“I told you, so you have to tell me now,” Lance barked in embarrassment.

“I’m twenty-nine, you dork.”

“How long have you been twenty-nine?”

As Bael raised his hand feigning a threat, Lance hurriedly grabbed his wrist, causing Bael to look up at him once again. His face was red as a tomato; the corners of his mouth still creased with a smile but eyes were tinged with fear. “I meant do you age normally like me and not whatever offensive way you ended up taking that,” he quickly explained.

“Yes, I do age just like other humans. Aside from the obvious reasons why I wouldn’t be, I’m otherwise a human just like you.”

Lance grumbled before growing silent. Bael peered up at him with his eyes squinted, anxious for what might be on his mind.

“How come you have pointy ears like this?” Lance asked, lightly rubbing a finger at the tip of one of Bael’s ears. As if burned, Bael jerked his head away before covering his ear with his hand. His face flared up a red that could most likely match Lance’s earlier blush. He hated how this made Lance grin like a fool.

“You can’t just touch another man’s ears without warning like that!” Bael shouted, trying and failing to sound intimidating as his cheeks began to burn.

“For such a tough guy, you’re really easy to fluster.”

“A- am not!”

“Just answer the question, Bael,” Lance said amidst laughter.

“Why do you have round ears?”

“That’s not going to work a second time. Plus, every human in Termina has ears like mine.”

Bael huffed before crossing his arms. “Well clearly I’m not a human from Termina, did I not make that clear?”

Lance’s laughter stopped immediately. “Wait- wait- hold on, you’re not from Termina? Where else could you be from? No one has come to Termina from across the sea in centuries.”

“Did my story mention anything about boats? I came through the forest. This forest. From the other side.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” Lance uttered, his former composure faltering.

“Goddesses, forest children, Lost Woods, those are all aspects from the world I came from. I’m not from this world,” Bael clarified, chest tightening. “I thought I made that apparent.”

“I-” Lance began, blinking as words appeared to escape him. “I guess you did and it just didn’t register in my mind. You’re from another world. There’s another world on the other side of the woods. I believe you, I promise, it’s just hard to fathom.”

“Is this truly the strangest thing you’ve had to accept since the night we met?”

“No it’s just” -Lance hesitated as he dragged a hand through his hair- “you’re from another world. It’s only because of those awful things you went through that you ended up in my world now.”

Bael nodded cautiously.

“It makes me sick to think of what you went through, but I just can’t help but to think-” Lance trailed off as his shoulders slacked.

“Think what, Lance?”

“I would have never met you if none of those things ever happened. The idea of never knowing you and my life continuing to go down the path it was prior frightens me. What a terrible thing for me to think.”

“I don’t think you’re terrible. I just think you’re a lonely person,” Bael reassured, uncertain if what he said was encouraging or making it worse.

“I am.” Lance nodded before squeezing Bael tighter, something he didn’t think was possible but Lance lived to prove him wrong it would seem. “I was.”

Bael smiled as he nuzzled his cheek against Lance once more, sighing softly in contentment. His eyes began falling shut before being surprised by a touch at his chin. He blinked in surprise before looking up to see that look again. An expression Bael had done absolutely nothing to earn, yet here it was staring down at him with the intensity of the sun.

That’s what he was: the sun. Lance was a brilliant star that radiated endless warmth to all around him. Bael was a cold, icy body floating through the heavens. He wanted the sun all to himself but was terrified of being burned alive by it.

“Bael,” Lance whispered, eyes closing as his face began to move closer.

Oh. Oh no.

Bael’s hand shot up to clamp over Lance’s mouth, earning a muffled noise of distress as his eyes flew open mere inches from Bael.

“Not here. Not now,” Bael quickly explained.

Lance whined in dejected disappointment.

Shit, Bael didn’t intend to hurt his feelings. “My parents are right there, you know. Have some modesty,” he teased.

I can’t accept how easily you’ve forgiven me. Let me earn a place beside you.

Bael shifted in place to lean up into Lance where his hand was still clamped over the other man’s mouth. He pressed his lips to the skin on the back of his hand, never breaking contact with Lance’s puppy dog eyes.

“That’s all you get for now. Ask me again later. When the time is right,” Bael said, pulling back with a wink.

Lance fervently nodded, blushing once again as his eyes focused on the ceiling.

“That’s a good boy,” Bael finished kindly.

Upon saying that Lance’s body shuddered so violently that Bael began to worry an earthquake was happening in the forest this time around. After understanding it wasn’t and catching Lance craning his head back so far he looked as if he’d snap his neck, Bael understood what just happened.

He would file that away as information he would make use of later.

“So what did you want to tell me?” Bael asked in an attempt to change the subject and bring Lance back to Termina.

“About that,” Lance began, bringing his head back down but still not looking at Bael. “Can I tell you later? When we get to my house, I mean. My, uh, my legs are going numb and I’m getting dizzy.”

“I knew that ‘I’m a heater’ line was some fake macho shit,” Bael scoffed. “Dizzy isn’t normal, though, what would make you feel dizzy?”

“My feet- hmm- my feet got cut up walking here,” Lance answered, his voice growing distant.

Bael looked to the side to see Lance’s bare feet, but the darkness obscured whatever condition they could be in. He removed himself from Lance’s lap to crawl down and take a closer look at the injuries.

“What kind of idiot runs through the woods without sho- what the fuck there’s blood everywhere.”

As if the removal of Bael’s body was a light switch, Lance fell backwards mumbling incoherently. The stupid son of a bitch was light-headed from blood loss and had just been sitting here while he bled out!

Rejuvenated from gaining emotional closure, Bael sprang to his own feet and stumbled his way out the door.

“Bael! You’re alright!” four fairies chorused as he surfaced from the house of stalfos.

“Later guys. I need you to get the medical supplies from my house.”

The fairies jittered as they turned to each other in confusion before looking back at Bael.

“Now!”

Lance became delirious and ignorant of the passage of time. At some point Bael ran back and started bandaging up his feet with some sort of goopy salve. It wasn’t until he was being treated that he realized how much pain he’d been in this whole time. His mind hadn’t been able to divert itself from focusing on Bael, the all-encompassing subject that consumed him.

Apparently he must have closed his eyes and fallen asleep. The next time his eyes opened he was flying through the forest with half his vision covered in white. Lance roused with a groan as he tightened his arms around what he happened to be holding onto. It felt like a person’s neck.

“Finally awake are you?” Bael asked, breathing heavily.

He groaned again. “Where are we?”

“I’m carrying you out of the forest. We’re getting you to a real bed.”

“I can walk just fine,” Lance pouted.

“I know, I know, you’re a big boy who doesn’t need any help walking on his sliced up feet. Luckily with my medicine and a touch of fairy magic you’ll feel right as rain later. For now you’re going to behave and let me get you home.”

“It was supposed to be me carrying you home,” Lance grumbled, burying his nose against the back of Bael's head.

“Supposed to what now? What kind of princely horseshit is that?”

“Just wanted to. This is nice, though.”

It was taking some time to adjust to a new way of thinking. Lance’s preconceptions of what it meant to be chivalrous and a romantic were shifting. Just as it felt nice to be the protector, so too did being protected.

Lance’s eyes closed once again as he listened to the sounds of the woods, this time around absent of any and all fear. He breathed in the scent of Bael, reminiscent of pine and a floral bouquet.

Before falling into slumber, he angled his mouth just behind Bael’s ear before beginning to whisper. “I have one last thing I want to ask of you. When you agree to that I’ll forgive you.”

“I’m still on the hook, really?” Bael balked, stumbling over a branch in his surprise but quickly righting himself. “What is it?”

“I’ll be in charge of handling Ikana City. You’ve had plenty of tries and now it’s my turn.”

“Seriously?”

“Serious as a heart attack. In fact, I’ve already got a plan. Before dawn tomorrow we’re going to Romani Ranch. We need all the help we can get.”