“Doing this is just going to give him the wrong idea. You know that, right?”

Bael, with his attention pinpointed on a distant flock of birds, blinked as he looked at the source of the voice. “Huh?”

“Forgive me for prying,” Aryn said, her left hand waving dismissively. “I’ve just known him a long time and don’t want to see you accidentally get off on the wrong foot.”

Wrong foot? He and Lance had already gotten off on the wrong everything, it was too late to scrutinize such minor details. As if she could understand Bael’s well-meaning intentions; the nerve of her to imply he was in the wrong once again.

“What do you mean the wrong idea? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Well, it didn’t mean Bael didn’t still want to know the secrets this long time best friend knew. It did nothing to aid the insignificance he felt at the infinite well of history they shared, but he dared not linger in that way of thinking.

He didn’t think of her as an enemy, absolutely out of the question. Bael met her with trepidation as was typical of his aloof nature, but any bitterness was not against her. He was ignoble, and seeing the first person to set Lance’s heart ablaze made that abundantly clear.

She was wonderful, radiating energy and kindness. He didn’t blame anyone for falling for her, honestly. Yet here he was, surly and vulgar. Saying the wrong things, doing the wrong things. Bael was only good for scratching an itch and satisfying an impulsive need. Lance wanted much more than that, but how does one begin to be more?

Aryn took a deep breath. “No one’s saying you did. I just would bet you anything right now he’s sitting back there stewing in his own confused, sour emotions. I watched him be possessive of his mama as a boy, then be the most insufferable grump anytime my attention was divided. Guess whose turn it is now.”

Bael squinted towards the back of Aryn’s head, irritated at being unable to get a read on her face. “So I should walk on eggshells in case I hurt his feelings?”

“No, no, heavens no. I just hope your ass-kissing ability is up to snuff because- huh, maybe I should use a different figure of speech.”

His lips pinched inward as he attempted to stifle the noise bubbling from his throat. Eventually his reluctance to expression was overcome by the loud guffaw that burst from his mouth. Bael’s arms wrapped around his stomach as he curled inward. The sound of Aryn laughing joined in soon after.

“So you can laugh after all!” Aryn exclaimed.

Once Bael calmed down from his fit of laughter, he maintained the delighted crinkle of his eyes as the temporary warmth settled in his stomach. “What you’re trying to tell me is that he’s the type to need a lot of reassurance and attention. It’s starting to sound like I’ve adopted a puppy.”

“I mean, have you seen those eyes? You can bet he was a spoiled brat at times growing up. As if a mother could look at him and say no. And I mean that in the best of ways, don’t get me wrong. He adopted just about every scruffy neighborhood dog and cat he could find.”

“Here I would have thought he was a perfectly well-behaved, prim and proper young man. Never stepping a toe out of line, always doing exactly what his parents expected of him,” Bael said, a degree of sarcasm in his tone.

“Oh honey, do I have some stories for you.”

“Can you believe it? The boy decides to take in a stray kitten, white as snow, and names her Pumpkin of all things,” Aryn regaled as the two of them passed through the entrance of Ikana City.

“Is he colorblind?” He hoped not, orange just wasn’t his color.

“Apparently the story is that he found her living around a nearby pumpkin patch. Instead of thinking of anything clever, he just copied my method of food names with the first thing he saw. If it wasn’t so funny I’d be a little mad.”

Bael’s stomach was sore from the frequency of belly laughing he’d done on their trip here. The smile etched on his face began to fade upon their arrival and the reminder of their purpose weighed heavy on his mind. Aryn appeared to be in good spirits, but Bael couldn’t help but notice her hands tremble while holding the reins. Evidently sharing stories and making merry was as much for her benefit as it was for his.

“Maybe we should wait for him to catch up. This is his idea after all,” Bael said, relapsing into his prior nervous demeanor.

Aryn tossed her head from side to side. “I can’t.”

“I need to see my love.”

“Uh, where’s the fire?” Nyx asked, jostling up and down from the horse’s movement.

“Something bad always happens when I let him out of my sight. I’m not taking a chance,” Lance answered after a brief pause.

I need to get this wedding fiasco resolved before he finds out about it.

“Hm, reasonable enough.”

Fortunately Lance could easily navigate to the clinic, by this point the entire layout of Ikana City was seared into his brain. Market-goers hurriedly sidestepped out of his way, a few tossing curses but otherwise the hustle and bustle was nothing unusual to see. Each time someone locked eyes with him, his stomach would sink and his body began to shudder. The eyes of the living were not too dissimilar from the eyes of the dead. His hands ran up the length of his arms, recalling the phantom sensations of dulled teeth tearing his skin with abnormal strength.

Without his walls protecting his mind, this place was a nightmare to return to. Every face was a threat, any divot in the ground was a sign of Aka being birthed from the earth. There was nothing here that didn’t wish to cause him terrible harm.

Come on now, you can’t let this get the better of you. You know all the events that will happen over the next couple of days like it was your morning routine. Aka won’t wake up ‘till tomorrow, and none of the citizens will turn until after that. Just breathe.

And breathe he did, now noticing Nyx was nested in his hair while pressing against his face. Truly he did not feel genuine relief until he saw brilliant white hair that stood out against the masses all around. There Bael stood timidly beside Aryn’s horse, as Aryn stood outside the clinic door with a hand on Rachel’s shoulder.

Lance approached cautiously, holding his breath for fear of making a disturbance. Bael quickly turned his head at the sound of Oberon drawing near, and his face lit up seeing who had arrived. It was then that the static in Lance’s mind finally fell silent once more.

Eying Aryn, he could see that she had moved a hand to Rachel’s waist. Since no one knew her here, it would seem it made her behave in a more brazen manner. Rachel would attempt to pull away, but Aryn would whisper something to her that caused her to relent.

He hurried to Bael’s side after dismounting, but his nerves were losing their resolve as he came within arm’s reach. It was so much easier yesterday when Lance wasn’t concerned with doing things exactly right. As it stood he didn’t even have a name for what existed between them, only a feeling that made his heart race and his palms clammy.

Should he touch Bael? Aryn was having no trouble showing affection to her girlfriend, clearly, so why shouldn’t he follow the same notion? A hand reached out to try and grab Bael’s, but the moment his eyes flickered down at the movement Lance grew fearful and backed away. Was that a flash of worry in Bael’s eyes?

“Hey,” Lance finally greeted.

“Hey yourself.”

“Have any idea what they’ve been talking about?”

Bael shrugged, and it took everything within Lance to not sink down onto the ground in relief. “No. At first Rachel was pretty upset to see Aryn, but I think a few flutters of her lashes melted that stony exterior.”

“Ah, yeah, I can’t blame her for that one,” Lance said with a wistful sigh.

In response Bael’s nose scrunched up and his arms crossed. “Of course, I don’t think she’s realized yet that you’re here. Nor that this isn’t a visit for pleasantries.” His head tossed to the side to look at the couple. “You should probably break the news.”

This was the last moment of peace they were going to have until this ordeal was finished. When, no, if something terrible happened this would be the last thing he would remember when he woke up. He had noticed a trend that his memory was much poorer if Bael wasn’t in them. Realistically it was most likely related to himself being fae-touched, but Lance liked to imagine it was indicative of a special bond deeper than either could fathom.

This is your time. Say something romantic; something that’ll make him have that bashful smile. Create a moment to hold onto when you’re broken and battered in the beast’s jaws.

“You’re really cute when you pout like that.”

It wasn’t winning any awards, but it was the prevailing thought on his mind he wished to make known.

Bael’s head snapped around with his lips parting, unintelligible words sputtering as he slowly rose to his tiptoes. “I am not pouting,” he retorted, cheeks tinged pink.

Lance couldn’t help but grin, as Bael was anything but threatening now. More than anything he looked like a little boy who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Instead of being the guilt-ridden type like Lance, he opted for angry denial.

“That’s the part you really want to latch onto?”

Bael exhaled heavily through his nose. “Yes.”

Lance’s shoulders sank, disappointed at this turn of events. “Are you sure? It’s going to be all business and survival from here out. It’s our last chance to be just us before something unspeakable happens.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Bael said tersely. “I only agreed to this because you made me believe in you. You don’t get to foretell gloom and doom now. We are winning and you are going to live. End of discussion.”

Lance smiled. “You believing in me is the only thing making me believe in myself. I’m actually terrified of all of this when you’re away from me for too long.” He worried at a loose thread at the end of his shirt, which caught Bael’s attention all too quickly. “Promise me you’ll stay by my side to the end.”

With his bare hand, Bael reached out and snatched Lance’s worrisome one to interlace their fingers. All indications of timidness had apparently subsided. “Whenever you’re afraid or think you’re in this alone just reach out to me. We’ve both been through too much to feel like we’re alone.”

Their thumbs both traced circles on the other’s hand, filling Lance’s heart an overwhelming sense of ease. He sighed softly with yearning. Yearning for the time to understand what it was he was experiencing, and to learn it with someone so dear.

“And thanks, by the way. You’re cute when you get jealous over me,” Bael added, teeth pinching the tip of his tongue in a mischievous expression.

“You’re such a jerk.” The bite of his words were softened by a stifled laugh.

When Rachel’s eyes cut upward at Lance, letting him know exactly how she felt about his presence, he began to understand how a fish felt on the butcher’s table. The smallest crease of a smile disappeared as she all but turned her lips into a deep frown. She pushed Aryn away ever so slightly, earning an annoyed whine in turn.

“Oh, already at the matching outfit stage are we? How could I ever compete with that?” Rachel spat, the hand on Aryn’s arm tensing as her eyes narrowed.

“Babe, don’t be like. Besides, look at them! Aren’t they-”

“I see someone who’s oblivious to the pain in their future. That, or he doesn’t care and it’s just me who takes issue with this situation.” Her focus shifted to Bael who was eyeing her suspiciously in return. “Take it from me, there’s only heartache to be found here.”

Bael’s hand squeezed around Lance’s, igniting an unfamiliar feeling in his gut. The hairs on the back of Lance’s neck bristled and his eyebrows knitted tightly together.

“You can condescend to me all you like, Rachel, but I won’t let you direct your anger at me towards him,” Lance snarled.

Rachel’s eyes widened as Aryn took a step back. In a surprising move, Rachel gave a crooked smile at his outburst.

“So there is a spine in there after all?” She paused, turning her head to the closed door of her clinic as the noise of the people within rose. “Aryn informed me there was at least one thing you wanted to tell me that I would like to hear. Let’s continue in my office.”

Then they followed without a word. As if on cue, Aryn slipped her hand away from Rachel and twirled a lock around her finger and thumb. Instinctively Lance tried to follow suit, seized with sudden fear. Bael would not permit it and only held onto him tighter.

These people here only wished to harm him, and this was an additional reason to do so. In the whirlwind of recent happiness Lance had neglected to carry his anxiety along. It had become so easy to forget the world at large and the pain they were capable of inflicting.

Lance took a deep breath and pinched his eyes shut. He had no place for unrealized worry in his heart, for it finally had a new purpose instead. Make Bael smile, and never let him cry for someone so unworthy as himself again.

Never again would either feel loneliness or ostracized, Lance swore to himself as he was blindly led through the lobby. It was okay to have faith again, to trust in another person so fully, with all of his entirety.

The sound of a door creaking open was shortly followed by a pair of light footsteps disappearing behind it. The hand that held his so carefully ceased pulling him forward, causing Lance to immediately halt in place while still without vision. A calloused thumb ran over the soft skin of his hand.

“It’s scary being different, isn’t it?” Bael whispered, so low that Lance could scare and hear it himself.

He nodded, an eye now peeking open to see they stood at the end of the hall away from any onlookers. Aryn and Rachel must have gone in already and left the door cracked just a hair. A scant moment of isolation, yet somehow enough to round in his paranoia from careening out of control.

“Terrifying. But I’ve always been different in a myriad of ways, I suppose this is just another one to come to terms with.” Lance offered a dopey grin that quickly turned into a grimace as he saw Bael’s tense expression.

“Thanks for not hiding, I know that would be the easier thing to do.”

“You’re right, it would be easier. But doing the right thing and the easy thing are rarely the same.”

Bael squeezed his hand again with a shaky breath. “I was scared too, but not about what other people would think.”

“What could frighten you?” Lance regretted his choice of words the moment they left his lips, but his meaning was sincere. What of mundanity could frighten someone so fantastical?

“The thought of you being ashamed of me. I couldn’t bear it.”

“How could I be ashamed of you, Bael? You’re so- I mean-”

“It’s nothing you’ve done to make me think it. I’ve just-” But he failed to verbalize what plagued him. He heaved a heavy sigh.

Typically cryptic responses were lost on Lance, having limited understanding of the complexity of other people. This, though, he understood. This was a lingering, incessant concern that refused to relent.

“You’ve been treated that way before, I’m guessing?”

Bael nodded, and quiet reigned over them both. Another reminder that Lance knew next to nothing of Bael’s past aside from the glimpses he had been permitted. The shadow that loomed over their fledgling relationship grew larger and more dense. Yet, it was not the only feeling. A sensation of warmth radiated from his stomach until his entire body grew hot.

Ask me again later, the thought shot like a lightning bolt through his mind.

Was this the perfect time Lance had been keeping an eye out for? A bold statement to make his intentions, no, his heart known? He took a trepid step forward.

“Bael, may I-”

“I’ve not got all day. Hurry up and tell me what you want to say,” Rachel called out from behind the door.

Lance took two hurried steps back. Bael spun on his heels and led them into Rachel’s office.

Another day, he supposed.

Rachel sat at her desk, lipstick smudged with a scowl on her face. Aryn stood the side with her back against the wall, rubbing her hands on her upper arms.

Dense as he was, it took only seconds for Lance to put the pieces of this puzzle together. Poor Aryn.

“First thing’s first; Rachel, I owe you an apology” -Lance winced, hesitating to continue- “and I should apologize to you too, Bael.”

The hand that held his laxed, a small action that pained him greatly.

Rachel appeared indifferent, but she didn’t appear angry so that was enough to keep Lance talking.

“What I’ve not told you -and still don’t know how to tell you- was before I met you I made an agreement with Aryn. Her parents were seeking to marry off their eldest daughter to a suitor they approved of. Their first choice was a son of the Gorman family from a rivaling farm, a man close to her father’s age. In a bid to save her I offered my own hand. We’ve been engaged for a couple of weeks now.”

Bael remained silent, but his hand stayed in place. Lance squeezed it, only to receive a weak response several seconds later.

“I still maintain that my base intentions were honest” -Lance paused as Rachel’s eyes levelled with his in a bloodthirsty glance- “but it was riddled with unsavory motivations. It took me too long to acknowledge it, Rachel, but I am today. I was in love with her and desperate to keep her with me. We made these arrangements without involving you because I really didn’t care what you thought. It was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Rachel sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. Aryn stared out the window, nursing a hidden wound.

“This is why I can’t make myself like you, Lance. Even when you apologize for what you’ve done wrong you act like a coward,” Rachel answered in a level voice.

Lance squinted, but made no effort to answer her. He stood up straight and squared his shoulders.

“So you’re telling me you were in love with my girlfriend for years and the feelings have vanished, just like that? Something shiny and new comes along, and you just abandon all of your feelings? What kind of husband would you be to her if you just drop all interest just like that?”

“Well, I-”

“I’m not the unreasonable person you all think I am. If you two had had feelings for each other and talked with me like adults I would have left you alone without a word. Clearly that’s not the case and you’ve been a dog at our heels since the day I met you. I tolerated you as an annoying infatuated kid, because that’s all you were to me. You’ve never threatened me, let that be clear.”

“What do you want from me, then? Do you want blood? My head?”

“I want you to be honest with me. For once in your fucking life just be honest.”

Lance's eyes narrowed as he peered downward in self-reflection. Be honest about what? Everything he had said was the truth laid out plain and simple. He looked to the side to gauge Aryn’s response but her face remained turned away. Bael was his last hope, but his face was turned away from Lance as well.

“What am I- oh.”

Of course, how stupid of him.

“Nobody gets over love so easily, of course. Especially not the first person you were in love with. Those feelings will live inside me for the rest of my days. But that’s my burden alone, and not one I wish for anyone else to bear.”

Immediately Lance noticed the sensation of Bael pulling away, but he grasped tightly and refused to let him go. Bael yelped at the sudden reaction before attempting to yank his arm away. He was ruthlessly strong, and it felt as if Lance’s wrist would snap. Lance’s determination, however, was even stronger at this moment.

Rachel, though clearly getting what she wanted, took no pleasure at the distress she had wrought. In fact, her face appeared more sympathetic than anything.

“Bael, I promise you, you’re not my second choice. I truly believe you’re the person I’ve been waiting my whole life to find. I may live with the dull ache of that unrequited love, but the thought of losing you makes me wish for nothing but oblivion.”

The hand tensed once again before Bael’s body began to shake.

“Everything is so new and moving so quickly, and I don’t even know what to call what this is. Believe me when I say all I yearn for are the days when the only thing I do is feel myself falling in love with you.”

It was hard for Lance to believe he just said this aloud and so succinctly, much less with an audience present. It wasn’t something he was ready to say, but he didn’t believe he was ever going to feel ready to feel so forthright. His body was too frightened to say what he meant, so words would just have to do.

“And so the boy has finally become a man. Congratulations, Mr. Bael, you have done in moments what I’ve wanted to see from him in years,” Rachel stated dryly.

Lance so desperately wished to see the look on Bael’s face, but was met only with the other man’s face buried into his arm. Bael shook his head as he tried to burrow deeper into hiding. He frowned, feeling all eyes hone in on himself. A nervous smile was all he could muster.

“So are you calling it off then? Or am I getting my hopes up for nothing?”

Lance shook his head, surprised at the lack of a reaction from either of the girls.

“That doesn’t surprise me. You want a solution that lets everyone have a happy ending, don’t you?”

“Of course, otherwise what’s the point?”

“Chivalrous as always. I hope you manage to impress me with what you come up with,” Rachel finished with a smile.

That was probably the first time he’d ever earned a positive reaction from her that wasn’t forced. It felt nice, and something he’d like to get used to.

“Ehem,” Aryn sounded, loudly clearing her throat while pointedly staring at Rachel. “I think you’ve forgotten about someone over here.”

“Lance and I just needed the chance to clear the air, love, please-”

Aryn promptly shushed her, causing Rachel’s lips to clamp shut as her head jerked back in what could only be described as fear.

“Where’s my apology? I’m glad everything is all hunky-dory now, but you’ve been treating me like a dog lately. No, actually, you wouldn’t treat a dog like that. More like a piece of garbage.”

“Aryn I had every right to be angry-”

“You’re older than me, yet you’ve been giving me the silent treatment like a toddler.” Aryn’s face was red as her cheeks puffed out like balloons. “You pushed me away from you. That hurt, Rae.”

“When you dropped this news on me it made me feel like you were pushing me away,” Rachel answered with a pained expression.

“You’ve gotta use your words! Tell me when I hurt you, otherwise I can’t fix it. Closing me off fixes nothing and just makes us unhappy.”

Rachel reached out her hand, chin tucked close to her chest. “I’m...sorry, Aryn. Will you forgive me?”

Aryn accepted, appearing to glide across the room as her hand slid into Rachel’s. Their fingers knitted together with practiced ease.

“I have more to say, but” -Rachel nipped at her bottom lip before clearing her throat- “it can wait until later.”

So it’s okay for Lance to spill his guts, but Rachel gets to retain some of her dignity. His lips curled into a look of displeasure, though it softened as he noticed the two pulling at one another with starry eyes.

Oh. That kind of later.

“Well after all that mushy sentimentality, though I’m deeply grateful it happened, I believe there was something you wished to ask of me?” Rachel spoke up, shattering the warm haze that had settled about the room.

Bael finally pulled his head back, face red and irritated from wallowing into Lance’s shirt. His eyes were focused ahead.

“So- ah, how do I put this- I need to make use of your connections to speak with someone.”

Rachel raised a brow, lips tightening as her uncertainty heightened.

“You know, important government people,” Lance continued with a wink.

“How do you…?”

“I’m in politics, remember? Anyway, something awful -I mean, awful- is going to happen to Ikana in a day’s time. I need to tell people that can do something about it before it’s too late.”

She visibly hesitated, and he couldn’t blame her. Aryn looked visibly confused but apparently decided to not press the issue. Losing the peace she had just earned didn’t appear to interest her.

“This isn’t a good idea, Lance, though I can tell your intentions are well meaning. They’ll just-”

“Please! It’s a matter of life and death. For everyone here.”

Rachel cast a look up to Aryn who only nodded.

“Very well. I’ll call my brother.”

Lance had only met Torian Thorne on a handful of occasions and never face to face. He was an imposing figure, to say the least. On the back of his left hand were two carefully placed cigarette burns, an indicator of a family member with notoriety. There were three near perfect lines on his right cheek. Scars without a doubt. Two were partially jagged, but the third was perfectly smooth.

Torian was always at the side of the Ikana mayor when the so-called “leaders” of each state had official meetings. He never spoke, aside from the frequent whispers into the mayor’s ear. There was reluctance in his voice when Lance overheard their conversation on the phone. Rachel, for reasons Lance couldn’t fathom, worked hard to convince her brother to cooperate.

His hesitation faded when the person in need of aid was named. The tune of his horn changed completely, and soon Lance found himself deep underground in the city’s catacombs. Rachel and Aryn stayed behind, naturally, but Bael was of course ever at his side with lines of worry etched into his face.

When Lance met Torian eye to eye, the older man only scowled down at him as he pressed down flat the lapel of his three-piece suit. As they walked through the murky underbelly he only spoke a single sentence the entire trip.

“Pretty brave of you to walk into our den without any weapons.”

It was a point Lance had brought up with Bael, but the other man assured him no weapons would be needed. Lance opted to interpret this optimistically, but the realist in him knew the truth behind his words.

Finally they arrived at a solid, ornate oak door wedged into the decrepit stone walls. Torian knocked thrice upon the door and stood still in waiting. Roughly half a minute passed before the door was opened by an unseen individual.

“The door’s open,” uttered a gruff sounding voice from deep within.

Torian grunted, the only indication he gave that he wanted them to step in first. Lance did so, with Bael at his heels. Immediately upon entering the door slammed behind the three of them and several pairs of eyes shined on him from the dimly lit room. Before Lance could offer a greeting, the sound of a hammer being cocked was heard uncomfortably close to his head.

He took a tense breath, the sound of Bael grumbling in irritation briefly apparently. The individual at the back of the room who was obscured by a tall-backed chair chuckled before spinning around.

“Like father, like son. Not many other men have the brass balls to make demands of me to my face. To what do I owe the pleasure of the Wisteria boy standing in my office today?”

Hideous yellow eyes shone in the dark. The man speaking to him snorted through the large nose of a swine. He dabbed his cigar onto an ashtray before bringing it to his lips.

“Cat got your tongue, boy?”