#corvus fic

In which Corvus searches for Soren in the aftermath of Katolis' destruction.

 They had fled to the forest while the fire consumed their homes, hoping that the trees would shelter them from the gaze of the rampaging dragon up above. The woods had obliged, but they did not feel welcoming as they usually did. Even now, nearly a day after the attack, the wildlife had not returned and the trees were eerily silent. Smoke hung heavy in the air.

 King Ezran had insisted that they ride directly back, and so they had; riding hard through the day and into the night. Now, as dawn’s light began to peek through the leaves above, Corvus took in what remained of the people of Katolis. Battered and bruised at best, and at worst… Corvus didn’t want to think about that. Especially when he had yet to find him.

 He knew Soren. Knew that his fellow Crownguard would have pushed someone out of the way of an oncoming blast without a second thought. Some might call it bravery, and it was, but Corvus knew that it was also something else. And that was what made him worried. 

 He hadn’t wanted to leave the king’s side, not when the castle still smoldered on the hill above them and the dragon could be anywhere. But Ezran had insisted that he go and help where he could; had said that he and Opeli would be fine on their own, if only for a little while. And then the pair of them had disappeared further into the camp to offer what aid they could to those who needed it most. By the way the king looked at him before he left, Corvus thought that perhaps he knew.

 And so Corvus had gone first to the hastily erected tent that was now serving as a hospital. It had been filled to capacity; understaffed and in need of assistance. He had offered help where he could; changing a bandage here, fetching something there. All the while keeping his eyes open for Soren, who had undoubtedly thrown himself directly into the line of fire. But despite the many guards filling the tent, their armor dented and smeared with blood and soot, Soren was not among them.

 Everyone seemed to have seen him, but no one knew where he was. One guard said that he had been on the wall when the dragon attacked. Another said he had been in the courtyard, helping a trapped civilian. One even said they’d seen him enveloped by dragon fire.

 Corvus pushed through the thought and the flaps of the tent and out into the steadily growing light. The man had probably been mistaken. Or, perhaps, if he wasn’t…

 Corvus didn’t have the heart to check the mortuary, yet.

 He wouldn’t be in the hospital, Corvus rationalized. He would be out on patrol, busying himself with one task or another. Helping where he could, as he himself was supposed to be doing. But Corvus couldn’t focus on anything so long as he didn’t know where he was. Everytime the flaps of the tent had opened to admit someone in need of assistance he had forgotten what he was doing to look up, holding onto the hope that it would be Soren coming in from the encampment, battered but still smiling.

 He walked through the forest, scanning every gathering of survivors for the familiar slope of Soren’s shoulders and the stoic smile he knew he’d be wearing. But, though he did manage to spot a few fellow Crownguards, his friend wasn’t among them. 

 Corvus’s feet carried him to the edge of the wood, where it led up to the castle, smoke still rising from it’s demolished parapets. Some of the rubble had fallen down the side and littered the forest floor. His breath caught in his throat as he knelt down to pick up a small chunk of masonry. The castle may not have always been his home, but it had been becoming one. 

 “Corvus?”

 The voice was weary and raw, but Corvus would have known it anywhere. He spun to the side, staring up the path that led to the remains of Katolis. There was blood in Soren’s hair and drying onto his face armor, and he was smeared with soot and dirt. But it was him. 

 He gave Corvus a weak smile. “I thought you were supposed to be eating cake and dancing or something.”

 Corvus ignored him, crossing the distance between them in a few steps and throwing his arms around his friend. Soren stumbled back a step, arms going out in surprise for a moment before they closed around him in return. 

 “I’m glad you’re here.” he mumbled into Corvus’ shoulder. 

 “Me too.”

 Soren’s grip tightened around him and Corvus heard his breath hitch. Pulling back, he looked up at his friend. 

 “You’re hurt.” Corvus’ gaze drifted up to Soren’s hairline, where fresh blood continued to ooze from a gash on his forehead.

 “It’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse.”

 “You’re going to get an infection.”

 “I’m fine.” Soren assured him.

 “I’m going to get something. Stay here.” Corvus turned to go, but Soren’s hand caught his wrist before he had taken more than a few steps.

 “Don’t go.”

 Corvus paused, turned back. The smile flickered back onto Soren’s face as he looked.

 “I, uh. They need the supplies more.” 

 Corvus hesitated.

 “Please.” Soren said.

 He stayed. 

 They sat on one of the larger pieces of rubble that had reached the forest floor, leaning against each other for support. Corvus could feel Soren’s hair tickling his cheek. He reached up to brush it back behind the other man’s ear and his fingers came away sticky and tinged with red.

 “Soren.” he said, looking down at his hands with concern, then back to his friend. “Please let me look at that.”

 “We don’t have many supplies.” He replied. “The others need it more.”

 Corvus knew this wasn’t a fight he’d win. He sighed. “Then we’ll make supplies.”

 Before Soren could argue he stood, turning to face him again, and tilted his friend’s head up so he could see the wound more clearly. Soren stared up at him, their eyes locking. But Corvus wouldn’t be distracted. Tilting the other man’s head to the side, he inspected the gash more closely. 

 It wasn’t especially deep, thankfully. But there were bits of debris in it that were stopping it from healing properly. 

 “Hold still.” Corvus instructed, taking off his scarf and wrapping one end around his hand. “This is going to sting a little bit.”

 “I can handle- Ow.” Soren hissed. 

 “I told you.” Corvus did his best to be gentle; carefully using the fabric to dab at the wound until it seemed mostly cleaned. “There. Better?”

 “I mean, you just spent a while poking it, so not really.”

 Corvus shook his head. “You’ll thank me later.”

 Taking the clean part of the scarf, he wrapped it around Soren’s head a few times before tying it into a knot at the back. “There. Now you have a bandage.”

 “I think you mean a bandana.”

 “No. I mean a bandage.” Corvus fussed with the scarf again, worried it would come loose. “Just don’t play with it, okay? It might come undone and then-”

 Soren reached up and placed his hand over Corvus’, holding it to the side of his head. “Okay.”

 Corvus looked down at his friend of two years. It was hard to reconcile the man before him with the same one who had hit him with a rock, tied him up, and called him a traitor. He had come so far. Corvus wanted to tell him how proud he was but couldn’t find the words.

 “Okay.” he replied, waiting for Soren to drop his hand. But he didn’t.

 “Okay.” he repeated instead, standing up, hand still clasped over Corvus’. They were eye to eye now, faces just inches apart. Corvus leaned in, and he kissed him. 

 It was stupid, really. A really stupid thing to do. Stupider than any nickname Soren had tried to give him over the years. In his surprise, Soren had dropped his hand, and Corvus tried to take it back, beginning to step away. 

 “I’m sorry.” he began, feeling clumsier than he ever had. He backed away, nearly tripping over a chunk of masonry.  “I didn’t mean to-”

 Soren stepped forward, hands clasping around his waist, and pulled him close again. “Well, I do.” he said, and he kissed him again. For real, this time, hands tightening across his back as he held him.

 After a long moment they broke apart, and Corvus looked at his friend. No, more than his friend. Soren’s eyes seemed to sparkle and he smiled. A real one, this time.

 “Hey, that’s not part of your Crownguard duties.”

 They jumped away from each other, both of them nearly falling backwards over the chunks of debris that still littered the floor. Ezran stood a few steps away, one eyebrow raised playfully in their direction.

In which Corvus realizes something. Co-written and edited by the wonderful wonderful @sorinethemastermind. I write the Corvus POVs, they write the Soren POVs Also on Ao3 and it has a playlist!

Corvus didn’t bother to travel through the night. The moon didn’t reach down here, so at best he’d loose the trail. At worst…

Well, he didn’t want to think about that.

In which Soren realizes who he should tell about his newfound first elfyness first. From the same universe as It's Quicker And Easier To Eat Your Young. Which can also be found on Ao3 and it has a playlist!

Soren didn’t have trust issues. It was just that the person he was supposed to trust the most in his life had turned out to be a really, really bad guy. So now he was a little more wary about it.

There were a few people that that didn’t apply to, of course. Like his king. And Callum sometimes. And Rayla, maybe. And Opeli. She was pretty smart. Seemed pretty trustworthy.

And Corvus, for some reason he wasn’t really sure of. He barely even knew the guy. 

So Soren understood why he didn’t rush down the halls of Katolis, leap up the stairs, and scream from the highest tower that he was an elf. But he didn’t understand why he wasn’t walking down those same halls to go and tell his friends. His family. Why he was still standing, dumbstruck, in front of Callum. Callum who couldn’t see him.

“H-Hello?” he tried again, waving a hand in front of the mage’s face like that would somehow fix things.

But no, Callum just continued walking and Soren had to jump swiftly out of the way. Which meant he was still invisible. On the full moon. Just like…

He refused to think the word.

It wasn’t like they were all bad. Rayla wasn’t, and she was an-

She was one of them. In fact, Soren had met a whole lot of really wonderful people in Xadia. He had fought alongside them, and that was a bond that was hard to unforge.

But that had been months ago and Soren had been taught for years that elves- damn it, he’d thought the word. Soren ran a hand nervously through his hair, half expecting to discover a pair of horns there and letting out a sigh of relief when he didn’t.

Elves - he’d already thought it once, he could do it again - weren’t the monsters he’d been taught they were. Sure. Yes. That was undeniable. But that didn’t mean he wanted to be one.

Soren watched Callum disappear around the corner and hurried in the opposite direction. If Claudia were still around (his chest ached at the thought of her) he would have assumed it was some kind of Dark Magic-y prank she was pulling. But she wasn’t and so it wasn’t, either.

Maybe he could ask Rayla if-

Soren held his breath and pressed himself up against the wall as a pair of guards walked by. They were some of the new recruits he’d brought on after Ezran made him the new Captain. So while he didn’t exactly trust them, he knew they weren’t bad people. Probably. Hopefully.

He’d thought that about his Da- Viren too, after all.

He had stumbled upon them mid-conversation and one of them - an older man with dark hair and a beard Soren was jealous of - was shaking his head.

“I trust the King and the King’s judgement. His father was a good man. Raised a brave lad.”

His younger companion glanced over his shoulder before dropping his voice. “I’m not saying I don’t, just that… Well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? You just said you trust King Ezran because of the way his father raised him. You remember who his Dad was, don’t you?”

Soren swallowed, eyes widening slightly as he watched the two men continue right past him. They couldn’t be talking about him, could they?

“That’s… different.”

“How?” the younger guard pushed, “Lord Viren sent them to kill the Princes. He admitted as much! And he went? I just don’t see how that gets you a promotion, is all I’m sayin’.”

No. No, they were definitely talking about him. Soren’s gaze flitted to the floor.

The worst bit was, he couldn’t even be especially annoyed with them, could he? His father had sent him to kill the Princes. And he had gone. He’d almost gone through with it, too. Soren’s hands clenched into fists. It would be a long time before he stopped replaying that moment in his head, wondering if he really would have done it if Rayla hadn’t intervened. How he’d of been able to live with himself after-

“What gets you a promotion is standing by the king and trusting in his word,” a new voice cut in, from the other end of the hall. Soren glanced up to find Corvus standing there. The new Crownguard armor looked good on him. Like it belonged. “Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol right now, not gossiping about your Captain behind his back?”

“S-Sorry, sir. I just-”

“You just felt the need to question Soren’s loyalty on this once tranquil, moonlit night?”

The younger guard swallowed and Corvus sighed, stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I understand your hesitations. You know he once tied me up and made me walk halfway across Xadia?”

Soren winced.

“Wha-” the smaller soldier began, eyes widening.

“But I would trust him with my life anyday. And not just because King Ezran does. I trust him because I have looked into his eyes and seen that he deserves it. Because he would lay his life down for not just the King, but for anyone in Katolis, without hesitation.”

Soren gave Corvus a silent and invisible, yet eternally grateful, smile from his place hidden against the wall.

“I trust him not just with my life, but with Katolis’ safety,” Corvus finished. “So get back to your patrol and stop besmirching his name.”

“Of- Of course, sir. Sorry, sir.”

Corvus wrinkled his nose. “Please, stop calling me sir. It feels… strange.”

“Sorry, si- I mean… Corvus?”

The tracker clapped the other man on the shoulder. “There. I’m just one of you. Same as Soren. And if you’re half as brave as he is, Katolis is in good hands.”

Soren watched as the two guards scurried off down the hall, vanishing from sight, Corvus following them a moment later. He released the breath he’d been holding and it came out like a sigh.

Maybe, once he’d figured all of this elf business out for himself, he could confide in Corvus and the other Crownguard could help him figure out how to tell the others. The guy had already seen him at his lowest, and he’d stuck around anyway, after all.

You've heard of the only one bed trope, but what about only one tent and no bed? Aka the "Yes, you can use me as a pillow" prompt won the poll. #Sorvus

 Soren had shared a tent with Corvus before. One of the first things King Ezran had done after reclaiming the throne had been to travel across Katolis; visiting every town and hamlet, no matter how small. Soren had accompanied him, of course. It was his duty as a Crownguard to ensure that the king remained safe. And though Corvus hadn't been a member of the guard at the time, he had traveled with them anyway. Their trusty guide to the woods and wilds of Katolis.

 He was such a tree guy. It was kind of cute.

 For the first week or so of their travels Corvus had insisted on sleeping outside, saying that the stars made a better roof than a canvas tent. Soren had tried to point out that the whole thing with stars was that there was no roof, but Corvus had just rolled his eyes and claimed that he was missing the point. 

 However as they'd traveled further north the nights had become colder, and eventually even Corvus had been forced to admit that the stars didn’t trap heat as well as good old canvas. So Soren had offered to share his tent with him. And, though he'd declined the offer at first, it hadn't been long before the pair of them were pressed back to back in Soren's tent, savoring each other's warmth as the snow fell outside. It had been warm, cozy, and wonderful.

 And somehow less uncomfortable and awkward than whatever it was they were doing now.

 Soren glanced over at Corvus from his side of the tent. The other man sat on the opposite side of the small canvas room, knees drawn up to his chest and arms folded. As much distance between them as there could be in the cramped little space.

 Soren cleared his throat. "Don't you think we should be helping? I feel like we should be helping."

 "King Ezran told you to rest." Corvus reminded him, barely sparing him a glance. Soren wondered if it was because of how many times he'd had to say that, or if it was something else. Like, maybe, he didn't know; the fact that they had kissed twenty minutes ago and the king had walked in on it.

 "But don't you think-"

 "King Ezran." Corvus repeated, putting extra emphasis on the words this time." Told you to rest."

 Soren let out a loud hmph. Ezran had said a lot of things. Like how the destruction of Katolis wasn't his fault. And how there was nothing more he could have done. And how the people were lucky to have had him there when they did. And those just obviously weren't true. So then, maybe he didn't need to rest either?

 "Why don't you get some sleep?" Corvus urged him gently, shifting a little bit closer. Soren looked up at him through the curtain of blond hair that had fallen across his face. He hadn't realized his head was drooping. 

 Straightening up, he rolled his shoulders. "Nah, I'm fine."

 "You haven't slept in nearly two days."

 "But." Soren pointed out. "I have drunk more hot brown morning potion in those two days than any other. So I'm wide awake! Really, we shouldn't even be in here. We should be out helping."

 He began to reach for the tent flap, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. His friend's - boyfriend's? - grip squeezed slightly as he spoke.

 "Soren. Are you okay?"

 The question caught him off guard.

 No. He was not okay. But people didn’t usually ask so he didn’t usually have to lie. Anyway, what did it matter? He was used to it. It would be weirder if he was okay at this point. Was anybody ever really okay, anyway? 

 "Yeah. Of course." Soren flashed a wide smile in Corvus' direction. "Why wouldn't I be?"

 "Because..." Corvus trailed off, too many reasons to name them all. "I'm just worried about you."

 Soren paused, his smile faltering. Then it was replaced by a smaller, genuine one. “You don’t need to be… Corvy?”

 Something in Corvus’ expression told him this nickname wouldn't stick any better than the others he had tried. 

“Alright, not Corvy.” he said. “How about-”

 “How about you rest like the king ordered?”

 “Fineee.” Soren groaned, letting the tent flap drop from his hand. “Just for an hour.”

 He flopped back down onto the ground, feeling the corners of his armor jab into his sides, the sticks and stones littering the dirt floor of the tent poking into his back. The saying should have been sticks and stones can break my bones, and they sure as heck make it impossible to sleep too.

 For a split second he wished he had accepted the bedroll Opeli offered him, if only so that Corvus wouldn’t be stuck lying on the cold, stony ground. But the selfish thought fled just as quickly as it had come. The hospital needed them more. He would have given them this tent too, had Opeli not insisted it was too small to be of any use. 

 And it was small. Corvus laid down on the ground beside him, the forced proximity making their shoulders bump. Not that Soren was mad about that. He tried to stop wiggling, for Corvus’ sake. If he needed rest, then his friend - partner? - definitely did. He’d ridden for days just to get here, and now was worried about him? 

 But knowing that they both needed to rest didn’t seem to make sleep any more attainable, and they both spent the next ten minutes staring at the canvas roof above them, eyes wide open, elbows and shoulders gently bumping into one another each time they moved. Unable to do anything else without disturbing Corvus, Soren had to be content simply wiggling his toes. Which, he realized after a moment, were sticking slightly out of the tent. It really was small. Or he was just big. It was probably that last one. He was a prime physical specimen, after all.  

 "What are you doing?" Corvus asked, rolling onto his side to look over at Soren.

 “I, uh, nothing. I’m resting.”

 Corvus didn’t seem convinced, so Soren rolled over to face him so he could properly explain why this should count as resting and now they could get up and go help. The words died on his lips when he realized that, in this new position, their faces were mere inches apart. Corvus’s hair tickled his forehead and their noses bumped as he shifted.

 “Really?” Corvus asked, his breath warm on Soren’s face. 

 Soren reached out and poked his nose.

 “What was that for?” Corvus asked, sitting up in his surprise.

 “It was right there, what did you want me to do!?” Soren asked, rolling onto his back to look up at him, blowing the hair out of his face. 

 Corvus blinked a few times, the color in his cheeks deepening. Then he looked away. “What are we, Soren?”

 Soren’s heart dropped and he sat up, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked over at his friend of two years. “I, uh. What do you want to be?”

 He knew what he wanted. And for a second there, when they’d kissed, he’d thought maybe that was what they were now. That maybe they were a thing. But the way he’d asked that… now he wasn’t so sure.

 Corvus took a deep breath and let it out slowly before replying. “I thought that maybe… maybe it was just the adrenalin, or the rush of having survived. Of both of us being okay. But what I would like is for it to have been… more than that.”

 Corvus looked at him, his eyes kind and smiling in that way Soren loved so much.

 “Corvus. We almost die, like, every day.” he pointed out. “And we’ve never done that before.”

 “But-”

 He stopped him with a quick kiss, which became a few kisses, and he felt that addressed Corvus’ concerns pretty well. 

“So… can I tell everyone that you’re my boyfriend now?” he asked, finally drawing back. 

 Corvus lay back down on the ground, crossing his forearms behind his head as a kind of makeshift cushion. “I suppose you can.”

 “Yes!” Soren flopped onto the ground beside him, punching a fist in the air. “I guess we already sort of told Ezran.”

 “I can’t believe…” Corvus trailed off, shifting so that he could pinch the bridge of his nose with one hand as he closed his eyes. He sighed. “What’s done is done.”

 “Yep!” Soren said cheerily, not feeling a drop of regret. “He was going to find out eventually.”

 He shifted uncomfortably on the uneven, stony ground. He’d forgotten how jabby it was. A stone pressed into the back of his head and he sat up, shoved it away, and laid back down. And just as quickly sat back up. 

 “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lie on you. I can move over.”

 “That would sort of defeat the point of me putting my arm there.” Corvus said, and Soren realized that it hadn’t been an accident. Corvus scooted a little closer, stretching his arm out further towards him. 

 “You hurt your head, Soren. The last thing we need is you banging it against a rock.”

 “So… you’re saying that I should use you as a pillow.”

 “Yes. I am a pillow.”

 “And you’re a pillow… for my health?”

 “What else would it be for?”

 Soren just smiled and lay back down, resting his head gingerly on Corvus’ proffered arm. One of the perks of working out, it seemed, was that muscles could double as pillows. More people should tell you that. He would have to keep it in mind. 

 Corvus rested his other arm across his chest, fingers absently playing with a torn edge on Soren’s armor. Curled up together in the warm closeness of the tent, Soren finally felt himself relax. He hadn’t realized how on edge he’d been until it all washed away. 

 Sure, he had a lot of work to do and there were people out there that needed helping. But he could take a couple minutes to shut his eyes, and just listen to the sound of Corvus’ slow breathing beside him, and the rustle of the tent in the wind.

 Anyway, Corvus needed to rest, and if Soren got up to go and help out around camp he was sure to follow. So really, the only way to make sure that his boyfriend got some sleep was to get some himself. 

In which things are revealed and revelations made. Some of which not so intentionally. Co-written and edited by the amazing @honeii-puff! I write the Soren POV chapters, she writes the Corvus POV chapters. Also on Ao3 and it has a playlist!

“This is it.” Rayla said, stopping in the middle of what appeared to be a totally random part of the woods. She gestured around them, spreading her arms wide. “This is my home.”

“Erm. Rayla-” Soren was about to point out that her home seemed to be rather… invisible, and then it clicked. “Ohhh.” 

He turned to grin at Corvus. “I think it’s invisible.”

The other man glanced back at him with a small smile. “That would explain why we’ve never been able to find it all these years.”

Soren caught sight of Runaan out of the corner of his eye. The older elf’s usually stoic expression had become what he could only call anxious, and he was absently cracking each of his knuckles in turn. It was a bit foreboding looking, actually. 

“Hey, there’s nothing to be worried about.” Soren said, sidling up beside him. “I’m sure the other elves won’t care about the whole not killing King Ezran thing. We’re at peace now, anyway.”

His words seemed to have the opposite effect, and Runaan sighed loudly. “I hadn’t even-”

He shook his head. “Why don’t we just not bring up that detail, yes?”

Soren eyed him. “You don’t… regret not-”

“Of course not.” the elf shook his head. 

Soren laughed. “Good. Cause then I’d have to arrest you again.”

Runaan didn’t seem to find that as funny as Soren did.

“Why don’t we just get this over with.” he said, stepping up to stand beside Rayla and Callum. His daughter gave him a sheepish smile.

“Yeah, about that… we can’t use my key.”

“Why not?”

“I, um, well-”

“They ghosted her.” Callum said heatedly, glaring at an empty patch of foliage. 

“They… what?” Runaan looked aghast.

“What’s ghosting? Is that like… when someone dead haunts you or something?” Soren whispered, leaning over so that only Corvus could hear. His friend shrugged.

“How would I know? Most likely some sort of elven ritual we don’t know about.”

“Oh yeah. You don’t think I’m ghosted, do you?”

“Soren, why would you be ghosted?”

“I don’t know!” Soren exclaimed before quickly modulating his voice down to a whisper. “I don’t know. I seem to collect weird elf things I don’t know about.”

“That-” Corvus paused. “You are most likely not ghosted.”

“Phew.” Soren let out a relieved sigh, returning his attention to the others, who appeared to be arguing about why or how or when this ghosting might have happened.

“It doesn’t matter.” Rayla was saying, her voice rising in frustration. “It happened. That’s the end of it. I’m bringing you back because Ethari needs you, but they don’t want me anymore.”

“We will change their minds.”

“Can you even be unghosted?”

“If you can, we’ll find a way. And if not, then we’ll make one.” Callum told her, a fierce expression flitting across his face that reminded Soren unnervingly of his father. “There’s always a creative solution.”

“Speaking of which,” the mage dug around in his satchel for a moment before pulling out what appeared to be a large, glittering chunk of crystal. “Rayla, I know you gave this to me for safekeeping, but I think now is the time to use it.”

“For what?” she asked, taking it in her hands and turning it over. 

“For…” Callum pulled a pair of twigs off a nearby tree, holding them to his head like horns. “Disguises!”

Rayla rolled her eyes and sighed. Runaan just looked stunned, and maybe a little bit offended.

“Eh?” Callum raised an eyebrow. “See, if you use that spell from Umber Tor and Soren, Corvus, and I tie twigs to our heads, it’ll look real and feel real.”

“I… guess it would.” Rayla mused, considering the chunk of crystal in her hand.

“Don’t be silly-” Runaan began, but his daughter had already begun the spell. 

She crushed the crystal in one hand as Callum held out two more pairs of twigs to Soren and Corvus. Soren politely declined, feeling sort of uncomfortable at the idea, and Corvus followed his lead. Callum shrugged.

“Suit yourselves. It’s actually pretty fun to be an elf for a day.”

Soren figured it would be. For a day.

Rayla cleared her throat, throwing the shimmering crystal dust into the air. It lingered there for a moment, slowly settling onto the group of them. 

“𝑀𝓎𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝒶 𝒞𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓈!” she proclaimed, and for a moment the sparkling crystal dust glowed bright. 

Soren squinted his eyes shut, and when he opened them, he was standing in a circle of Moonshadow elves. He glanced down, then quickly up again at the sight of himself in elven garb. None of the others seemed to notice his apprehension. At least, Callum didn't, he was too busy spinning around and studying his newly altered attire.

“Rayla, how do I look?”

His girlfriend was staring at him with wide eyes, a smile slowly spreading across her lips. “You’re missing something.” she told him, reaching up and taking a tuft of his hair. 

He froze under her touch, letting her twine the strands together into a little braid hanging beside his left ear.

“There.” she told him, stepping back and clasping his hands in hers.

A faint flush crept into Callum’s cheeks. Soren glanced over at Corvus to make a joke about how corny they were being, only to notice that the other man was staring at him.

“What?” Soren asked, suddenly self conscious.

“Nothing. You just… it suits you.”

Soren felt his own face color and looked away so Corvus wouldn’t notice. That’s silly, he thought, even as he did. He’s just Corvus. He didn’t mean it like that.

Runaan took that moment to clear his throat. “Shall we?” he gestured towards the empty clearing which must have held the Silvergrove.

“Uh, yes, sorry.” Rayla tucked her hair out of her face, dropping one of Callum’s hands and offering her own to her father. “Let’s begin.”

Callum held out a hand to Soren and he took it, not really sure what was going on. But it seemed like they were supposed to continue the circle, so he offered his other one to Corvus. After a moment the other man took it.

The contact sent an electric shock through Soren, and he glanced down as Corvus interlaced their fingers together. Probably part of the spell thing-y, Soren thought distantly. Not that he was complaining. But it was as though his thinking it had made Corvus realize what he was doing, and he shifted his grip to a far looser one.

Soren found that he was strangely disappointed.

“Follow my lead.” Runaan said, taking Corvus’ other hand and beginning to lead them in a semi-circle pattern. Soren saw his glance flit between them for a moment, lingering on their clasped hands before drifting out over the forest.

The group of them continued the strange dance, only messing up a few (alright, many) times at first. But they steadily got the hang of it, and then it was sort of fun. There was one part where Soren had to twirl Corvus around, and they nearly collided with one another, laughing when they tripped over each other’s feet. Callum and Rayla seemed to be having an equally enjoyable time; with Rayla spinning her mage round and round so many times he got dizzy and ended up clinging to her, the pair of them giggling.

Runaan didn’t seem impressed and ordered the lot of them to continue and take the dance seriously, saying that it was an ancient elvish custom.

Callum still found time to kiss Rayla when they did the next step. Runaan only rolled his eyes, a small smile on his lips. Though he quickly smothered it.

Soren grinned at Corvus as they finished the final steps of the number, and he thought that the other man might have been about to smile back when a blinding flash of light obscured his vision. Soren squinted, everything brilliant and white for a moment, before the scene around him snapped back into focus and he was standing, not in an empty forest clearing, but before a small and gently illuminated town.

Lights twinkled in the windows of buildings built into the sides of great trees, stairs twining up their trunks. Little flickering insects flitted through the air, shedding their light on the dark corners of the place. Soren stared at it with wide eyes. It wasn’t anything like Katolis, or what he’d imagined (story books had gotten it all wrong). It was beautiful, in a sort of enchanted and magical way.

He glanced around the group, expecting to find them similarly entranced, but instead found them all staring at him.

“Callum, your disguise dropped.” he said, realizing belatedly that whatever spell removed the illusion on the town had also removed the one on them.

He glanced between them, finding expressions ranging from confused to mildly horrified. He glanced back at the town. It looked fine to him. Better than fine, actually. But maybe it wasn’t supposed to be like this? He was about to ask when Callum piped up.

The mage glanced between himself and Soren a few times as he spoke, as though expecting what was in front of his eyes to change with each attempt at looking.

“Soren, my disguise dropped, but yours didn’t.”

Soren blinked at him, glancing down at himself. It had definitely dropped, he thought. The elvish garb was gone, as were the markings on-

Wait.

He held up his hands, staring at them. There were  small, purple bands around the knuckles on both his middle fingers. Soren stared at them, then threw a scared glance at Corvus. The other man was staring at him, mouth slightly open. He reached out a tentative hand towards him, then drew it back. But it was enough to tell Soren that there was something else. Something worse.

His hand went to his head, and he felt-

No. No, no, no, no.

Soren’s hand brushed against something that shouldn’t have been there. Something that couldn’t be there. A horn. He had horns-

No, Soren realized belatedly as his other hand closed around empty air. He had one horn.

His breath hitched as the panic rose inside him, some sort of half-memory, half-hallucination flashing through his mind. 

His father looming over his bed, face gray and marred with horrible scars, his eyes black, with only a small pinprick of light in them. There were tears in those eyes, slowly rolling down his face even as he gave Soren what was surely supposed to be a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

Except he was holding a knife. And nothing was going to be okay ever again.

Soren felt a scream rising up in his throat, the same way it had that day. Only now he swallowed it, turning away from them all even as the question in Callum’s eyes became one on his lips.

“Soren, what- what are-”

“Give him a minute.” Corvus said, cutting the mage off. He placed a hand on Soren’s shoulder.

“Just breathe, okay.”

Except that was what his father used to say, when Soren was struggling for breath, lying sick in his bed. Because it seemed simple, until you couldn’t do it. 

In through your-

Soren shook his head, pushing the memory from his mind. Viren wasn’t here. Neither version of him was here. Not the one with the scars and the black eyes, and not the one who held his hand when he was little.

My little golden boy-

They were both gone. They were both gone, and that little boy with them.

“I’m fine.” Soren said, turning back to them. “The spell must have just…”

Except the words died on his lips even as he spoke them. He knew, just like they knew, that what he’d been about to say would have been a lie. And he knew, just like they knew, that they would all pretend to believe it.

But Soren didn’t want to lie. He didn’t want to say that everything was going to be okay when it wasn’t.

“I- I don’t know where to start.” he admitted, and felt Corvus’ hand squeeze his shoulder. The other man gave him a warm smile, and Soren took a deep breath.

“I guess, at the beginning.” he said with a small laugh. “I… I might be an elf?”

“Might-” Callum began skeptically, but Corvus shot him a look and he shut up fast.

“Let him finish.”

Soren glanced over at Corvus appreciatively before clearing his throat and continuing. It all came out in a rush once he’d started.

“You were all just going through a lot and I didn’t want to be a burden and also I wasn’t sure if it was real or not cause maybe I just got drunk and got weird back tattoos but it’s definitely real and I can turn invisible sometimes and also I have a horn now so there’s that and I think my Mom was an elf and maybe that’s part of why my Dad hated them so much? And also I think that- that-” 

His hand drifted back to the solitary horn on his head. “I just really wish I knew how. And why. And it’s just a lot to find out all of a sudden and I wish… I wish I’d had someone to, I don’t know, tell me what to do. How to feel about all of this because… because I don’t know how to feel about it.”

“Oh, Soren.” Rayla said as he finally fell silent. She reached out, scooping up his must larger hands in her own. “You don’t have to feel any way yet.”

He gave her a wobbly smile. “Yeah. I… I sorta know that. I think.”

Callum, who had taken in his whole ramble with a somewhat confused expression, as though he couldn’t believe this had all been going on right under his nose and he hadn’t noticed, finally cleared his throat. “Well, I uhm. I’m glad you told us. Because these sorts of things can be complicated to navigate and-”

“Stop being so awkward, it’s embarrassing.” Rayla said to her boyfriend, nudging him with her elbow before turning back to Soren. “What Callum is trying to say is that we’re here for you, and we might not know exactly how to do that all the time, but we’re going to try.”

“What she said.” Corvus said softly from beside him.

Soren turned to say thank you, to say how much that meant coming from him, of all people. 

Corvus, who had not grown up with him. 

Corvus, who had met him at his worst and decided to stick around anyway. 

Corvus, who had chosen to stay in Katolis even though his entire life was elsewhere.

Corvus, who had thrown his arms around Soren before he could manage to find the words to say any of that. Soren melted into him, burying his face in the other man’s shoulder. He smelled like pine sap and smoke, but not in a way that reminded Soren of the fires in Katolis. Instead he smelled like long summers spent at camp and under the stars. Days of hiking and training, and nights spent telling stories and roasting marshmallows over an open fire.

Days where Soren had felt truly alive, and free, and safe. The way he hadn’t been able to feel at home anymore.

So, in a way, Corvus smelled like safety. And that was the way his arms felt around Soren, too.

“Thank you.” Soren muttered into his shoulder, hoping those two simple words could summarise everything he wanted to say and didn’t know how to. 

“Always.” Corvus replied, so soft Soren almost didn’t catch it.

When Soren pulled back, he found his friend’s eyes smiling at him. Sad and worried, yes. But warm, too. And Soren smiled back.

And then he saw the elf standing behind them.

He was on the other side of the clearing, and he had dropped whatever he’d been holding, the pieces of it shattered at his feet. As Soren watched, he took an unsteady step towards them, then another.

His eyes filled with tears, which slowly spilled down his cheeks. “Runaan?”

And Runaan spun at the sound of his voice, his own eyes going wide. And Soren saw something then that he would never be able to unsee. He saw the facade slip; the strong, stoic expression fell from Runaan’s face as his feet carried him across the field and towards who could only be his husband.

They collided in the center of the clearing, beside a small pool with two silver flowers floating in it, crystals shining in their centers. Runaan melted into the other man’s grasp the way Soren had done with Corvus only moments before. And they clutched each other, their words tumbling over one another.

“I saw the lotus but I- I didn’t dare believe-”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry-”

“You’re here. You’re really here. You came back.”

And as Runaan pulled back to stare into his husband’s eyes, he smiled a kind of smile that Soren had never seen cross his face before. Then he reached up, gently brushing a strand of silver hair back behind his partner’s ear. And he said something so softly that Soren almost didn’t hear it. 

But he did, and with that single word, Soren suddenly understood something that he didn’t know how he hadn’t seen before.

“Always.” Runaan whispered.

Soren’s gaze flicked to Corvus, getting a soft smile in return. It made his heart leap in his chest. It had always done that, he realized, suddenly understanding why he’d had butterflies in his stomach the day before.

Soren smiled back at him, and when Corvus placed a hand back on his shoulder, the contact was like a small shock. How had he been so blind?

It was startlingly obvious now. You could be the strongest, toughest person and still need a home to go back to. A place where you felt safe.

Sorvus Week 2024 | Prompt: Hearts of Cinder (No Warnings Apply)

 Corvus knew that something was wrong the moment Soren wasn’t there to greet him and Ezran. And it wasn’t just that, nobody seemed to have seen him. Not since the attack, which at least Opeli was able to confirm that he’d made it out of. Corvus had been over the camp twice, even ducking into a few tents to check if he was there. He wasn’t. But several frustrated civilians were. 

 It wasn’t until his nerves calmed that he was able to think about it logically. He was a tracker, after all. If anyone could find Soren, it would be him. So he did.

 He went through the entire camp searching for the familiar tread of Soren’s boots, finally spotting them by the clearing’s edge. Corvus followed them into the woods, wondering why his friend would have gone there. It wasn't like him. Soren rarely liked to be alone, and more than that, with everything that had happened, it only made sense for him to be at the center of what was going on back at the camp. Soren never turned his back on someone in need. It was one of the things Corvus respected about him most.

 And yet here his tracks were, leading off into the woods. Corvus walked for a while, picking his way through the steadily thickening foliage until he began to hear the burbling of a nearby stream. And that was where he found Soren.

 At first he didn’t understand why his friend would be sitting like that, hunched over and staring into the water. His first instinct was fear, that somehow he’d gotten hurt. But that didn’t make any more sense than him wandering off into the woods. And then he spotted the little things, the small details that he had missed at first glance.

 The scorched marks on the fallen log Soren was sitting on. 

 The steam rising from the water before him.

 The faint glow emanating from his hands where they rested in his lap.

 “Soren?” Corvus asked tentatively, making sure to let his footfalls be audible as he approached so as not to startle his friend. “What are you doing out here?”

 Soren, back already to Corvus, turned away further. “You made it back quick.”

 He didn’t sound especially happy about it, and that… hurt in a way Corvus hadn’t been expecting. 

 “We got your message. Are you-”

 “I’m fine.” Soren interjected, turning away again as Corvus neared. “You should get back to camp. They probably need your help.”

 “They need your help too.” Corvus waited for him to turn and look at him, stopping a few steps away. “Soren, what’s going on?”

 He heard the other man take a deep breath, then he turned to face Corvus all in one quick motion, like he had to do it that way or he wouldn’t be able to make himself go through with it. Corvus’ eyes widened. Glowing lines crisscrossed Soren’s face, disappearing into his collar and reemerging across the backs of his hands. They shimmered in sunset tones, shifting and changing. The same color had swallowed the blue of his eyes, the whites of his eyes turning black. This close to him, Corvus could feel the heat radiating off Soren, see that the puffs of steam he’d seen earlier were from the proximity of his shoes to the stream.

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like this.” Soren said, voice wobbling. He glanced down at his hands, clenched tightly in his lap. “I know I look like some sort of… some sort of monster and I-”

 “Soren.” Corvus sat beside him, ignoring the radiating heat. “You’re not a monster.”

 “But I-”

 “Soren.” Corvus said again, reaching out and gently untangling his friend's hands. He winced as their skin touched, thin threads of smoke rising from the places where his clothes made contact with Soren. But he ignored it. “You don’t look like one either.”

 “I’m hurting you.” Soren gasped, pulling his hands back with a look of horror.

 Corvus snatched them back, not caring. “Soren, look at me. Whatever this is, it will pass. Magic isn’t forever-”

 “But what if it is?” Soren got up, trying to take a step back, but Corvus rose with him. “I… I already have Dark Magic in my system. And that’s forever. So what if this is too? What if this is me now? What if-”

 “Then we figure it out.” Corvus told him, taking another step towards him. “I’m not going to let you banish yourself to the woods.”

 “I’m hurting you.” Soren said again, his eyes drifting down to their clasped hands.

 “I don’t care.”

 “But-”

 Corvus took another step closer, and taking a deep breath, let Soren’s hands go just long enough to wrap his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

 “I thought I lost you, Soren.” he said, giving voice to the fear that had plagued him the entire flight back. “That hurt more than this ever could.”

 Slowly, tentatively, Soren lifted his arms and hugged Corvus back.

 “Just, let me know if I should-”

 “Don’t stop.”

 “Okay.” 

 Slowly Corvus felt Soren begin to relax. “I’m glad you’re okay.” he told him.

 “Would you really call this okay?” Soren tried to laugh, but it died in his throat. 

 Corvus pulled back, stared into his eyes. They seemed a little… cooler. More purpley, less orange.

 He opened his mouth to tell him, but had a realization. Maybe it wasn’t the Dark Magic in his system keeping the spell active. Maybe it was Soren.

 He guided him back over to the fallen tree he’d been sitting on, and only a little smoke rose as they returned to their previous seats. Corvus didn’t let go of Soren’s hand. 

 “Maybe okay was the wrong word.” he admitted. “Because you don’t have to be okay. You know that, don’t you? That we’ll all still be there for you, even when you’re not okay?”

 “Of course I know that.” Soren stared at the ground, at his shoes, at the smoldering grass under his boots. As he watched, the fire grew, a small flower shriveling and blackening. And the more Corvus watched, the more Soren watched, the more the flames climbed until he was forced to drop Soren’s hand and collect water from the stream to splash on it. Steam mingled with the smoke as the pair of them watched. Corvus took his friend’s hand again.

 No, not friend. Soren was more than a friend.

 “You know, you’re the reason I stayed in Katolis.” he told him. “Not King Ezran.”

 Soren glanced up at him, eyes flickering for a moment. Corvus swallowed nervously, but forced himself to continue.

 “I could tell that you weren’t okay, but that you weren’t going to ask for help. Sometimes I wondered if you didn’t know how. If it was never an option before.” Corvus took a deep breath. “But it is now. We’re here to help. I’m here to help. Because-”

 He reached out, brushing the hair back from Soren’s face. His eyes were wide and purple. Corvus let his hand linger on the other man’s cheek. 

 “Because I love you, Soren.”

 And then before he could think any better of it, or wonder if this would actually work, he leaned forward and he kissed him. And the kiss burned. But Corvus didn’t care, because Soren didn’t pull away, and he didn’t flinch back and ask ‘what do you think you’re doing’ like Corvus had pictured him doing a thousand times.

 Instead he reached out and pulled Corvus closer, one hand resting on the small of his waist as the other traveled up to cup his chin and pull them together. And slowly the burning faded, and only the sweetness of finally doing this of finally admitting to himself that he wanted to remained.

 When Corvus opened his eyes, it was to find Soren’s blue ones shining back at him.

 “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” he admitted. “Not exactly how I pictured it.”

In which Soren sees a familiar face, and it doesn't go as he might have hoped. Co-written and edited by the amazingly talented @honeii-puff. I write the Soren POVs, they write the Corvus POVs Also on Ao3 and it has a playlist!

It was just supposed to be a quick run to get some water. The camp was quiet - everyone exhausted after the previous day - and Soren was trying his best not to make any loud noises as he made his way to the mess hall. Mess… tent? He was still getting used to having to call everything that.

He’d awoken in the middle of the night parched and sweaty, shaking off the remnants of an unpleasant dream. He thought he remembered it being about Corvus. No, Ezran. No, Viren. All of them? None of them?

Whoever it had been about, there had been a lot of fire and smoke. He remembered that much.

The need to get out of the tent had been instantaneous, even with Corvus lying beside him. Usually that was enough to banish the nightmares, and Soren had been sleeping sounder lately. But it hadn’t been enough tonight, and he’d needed the fresh air desperately. 

Now, standing in the cool, desert night under the twinkling blanket of stars, he did feel refreshed. The dream faded to obscurity as he filled up his canteen from the well and started to walk back to his tent. He’d snuggle up next to Corvus again, and by the morning, he’d have forgotten he even had the nightmare.

That was what he told himself. No reason to worry Corvus or Ezran or anyone about it.

A rustle to Soren’s right startled him and he glanced over, hoping that it was just some cute desert critter and not that he’d woken someone up. The tent the sound had come from was larger than the others, but he’d never seen anyone use it. In fact, most people seemed to avoid it. 

Interest piqued, Soren crept a little bit closer. There was definitely a rustling coming from inside, and it got louder the closer he crept. Maybe a raccoon? Did they have those in the desert?

“Hello?” he whispered into the night?

The sound stopped instantly, which made it seem very human. Or elf. It could also be an elf.

Now that they weren't at war, Soren mused, they needed a way to refer to elves and humans at the same time. Humelves? Elfmen?

He shook his head. Stay on task, Soren.

“Hey, sorry if I woke you up. I didn’t mean to,” Soren said, taking another step closer, voice soft. “I bet after yesterday everyone’s pretty on edge so-”

He pulled aside the flap of the tent, and two wide, green eyes stared back at him, practically glowing in the dark. A moment later Soren realized her eyes were glowing. She must have cast some sort of spell on them, and now twin beams of light shone from her eyes, illuminating anything she looked at. Which currently meant him.

Soren opened his mouth, but her name died in his throat. She looked… she looked.

“You changed your hair,” was all he managed.

Claudia looked him up and down, fingers clenching at her side, and then she lunged.

Soren stumbled back before realizing she wasn’t doing it towards him. She was doing it towards something next to him. She grabbed whatever it was - some kind of orb-like contraption - and then ran the other way.

“Hey! Wait!” Soren stumbled after her into the tent, half filled canteen falling from his hands and into the sand.

The light from Claudia’s eyes went out as she plunged deeper into the tent and Soren found himself in darkness as the flap of fabric fell from his hand, sealing them both inside.

“Claudia!” he had found his voice now, and her name echoed through the confines of the space. “Claudia, wait! Please!”

There was a crash as she threw something to the ground right in front of him and he tripped, going sprawling. As Soren regained his feet there was a momentary sliver of light, and he glanced up to watch the silhouette of his sister vanish out the side of the tent before letting the thick fabric fall back into place behind her, plunging the room once more into darkness.

Soren stumbled upright and dashed towards where the light had come from, throwing the flap open and rushing into the open night air once again. He glanced wildly about. There was more rustling now, but from every direction; people in nearby tents having been roused by all the shouting and crashing. Soren ignored them as they emerged bleerily from where they’d been sleeping, instead whipping his head this way and that as he searched for any sign of Claudia.

There. Footprints. Soren took off in the direction that they led. Thank the stars for Corvus, he thought. All that tracking talk is going to pay off.

He would have listened to a thousand more hours of it even if it hadn't of come in handy, though.

Soren pelted around the side of another tent, nearly crashing into the thing and sending them both crashing to the ground before narrowly course correcting at the last moment to curve around the corner of another one. Claudia’s footsteps were… odd. Something was different about them, Soren could tell, but he didn’t have time to figure out what just yet.

“Claudia!” he called again, knowing that he shouldn’t let her know where he was but also feeling a need to try and get her to turn around. To just talk to him. “Claudia, come on, it’s-!”

There was a horrible, yanking sensation in Soren’s chest and he tipped forward, hands going to his throat as the rest of the sentence was pulled from him unspoken.

Claudia stepped out from behind a nearby tent, a snaking tendril of green fog drifting from Soren’s open mouth to her hand, which clutched the - why did dark magic always have to use the weirdest and grossest things? - dead, shriveled foot of some creature.

“Be quiet!” Claudia hissed, as though she hadn’t just forced him to do so. “And stop following me.”

Soren tried to speak, but all that came out was a muffle “Gah”. He thought distantly back to the night the assassins came for Harrow, and the spell that Viren had used on Callum. If he could just knock the desiccated claw out of Claudia’s hand…

“I didn’t want to do this,” She was saying, looking down at where he was pushing himself back to his feet. “You made me do this. You didn’t leave me a choice.”

He tried to say her name again, taking a stumbling forward, but she ducked out of his reach.

“Don’t make me do something worse!”

Soren’s chest was feeling increasingly tight and he could feel the old, familiar panic starting to well up inside of him. It was just in his head. He could breath. He could.

Soren forced his chest to rise and fall, taking the air in through his nose and holding it there for a moment before releasing it.

Claudia was staring at him, eyes wide and confused, scanning him up and down. And that’s when he realized what she was seeing. He looked like an elf. 

He reached up his hands and Claudia shrugged away from him again. But instead of reaching for her, he just pointed; first to himself, and then to her. Then he held up his other hand and tapped his fingers together, miming talking.

“Are you… are you playing Word Hands? Right now?” Claudia asked, staring at him.

Soren pointed to himself, mimed talking again, and then pointed to her. This time with increasing urgency. He could hear more people waking up, they’d spot her any minute now.

Claudia shook her head. “No. I’m not doing this. You’re being ridiculous. And you… you…” she trailed off, eyes lingering on the solitary horn emerging from his hairline. 

Soren slapped his forehead, letting out a huffing breath. He motioned to his lips, mimed talking again, and then jabbed a finger at the hand clutching the… the desiccated foot or whatever it was.

Claudia’s eyes widened in understanding, and for a moment Soren thought she was going to do it, but then she shook her head again.

“No! Why would I do that? You’ll just start shouting again.”

Soren threw his hands up into the air in frustration. I just want to talk! He pointed at himself again, then at her, then at his lips, and mimed talking. Again. 

Claudia just continued to shake her head. “Nothing you say will change my mind.”

Change your mind about what!? Soren wanted to shout. But, of course, he couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. 

Well, she couldn’t say he hadn’t tried. Soren lunged suddenly forward, and even though Claudia tried to move away again, he’d caught her off guard and managed to knock the claw from her hand. The little bundle of green energy flew from it as it hit the sand and into Soren’s mouth. It tasted… weird.

His voice tasted weird. Kind of like, well, what you might expect spiderwebs to taste like. He coughed slightly.

“Claudia, please,” he managed, the start of the sentence hoarse and croaking for a moment before settling back into it’s usual rhythm. “I just want to talk.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” she all but snarled. “You’ve woken up half the camp!”

“Yeah! Trying to talk to you!”

Claudia paused for a moment, threw a glance over her shoulder at the rest of the encampment, and then looked back to him.

“Fine. Ninety seconds. Say what you want to say.”

“Ninety seconds?” Soren exclaimed, incredulous.

“Eighty-five.” 

“Fine! Fine! Okay,” Soren tried to think of what he wanted to say. There was so much. Too much.

“Eighty.”

“Alright!” he all but shouted, stumbling over the words in his haste to get them out. “Claudia, as you know, you’re my sister and I don’t want to hurt you-”

“It’s a little late for that,” Claudia intjerected.

“Just let me finish, I only have ninety seconds!”

“Sixty.”

Soren rushed to get everything else out. “Dad is gone, Claudia. Like really gone this time. And… and I know that’s hard for you but it’s going to be okay because I can help you. Just let me help you.”

“For me?” Claudia stared at him with a look almost like disgust. “It’s hard for me? So you don’t even care that he’s dead?”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“But it is, Soren.” Claudia's voice was rising higher, the distance that had been on her face vanishing in place of something much realer and more present. Something full of hurt. “You don’t care. Just say it. You abandoned us. You chose this,” she threw her hands up to encompass their surroundings. “You chose the elves. And now they’ve… they’ve turned you into one of them, somehow!”

“You’re dating an elf!”

“He’s different! He’s not like them! Terry doesn’t look at me like I’m some filthy animal. He doesn’t pity me.”

“Neither do they. Clauds-” he tried to take a step towards her, but she was already moving backwards, receding into the dark.

“No. They do. Just like you. You all do. You’re just like them. You even… you even look like them, now. What did they do to you?”

“I’m… I’m…” Soren didn’t even know where to begin. Was Claudia half-elf, like he was? If she was, would that change things? “I found Mom,” he blurted. Claudia paused for a moment. She stared at him.

“She’s… she’s an elf. A Moonshadow elf. The way we remember her it was… it was an illusion. I was under an illusion.”

Claudia was backing away, chest rising and falling with growing rapidity. Soren took a step towards her.

“Maybe… maybe you are too?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Dad would have told me. He would have told us. They’ve tricked you, somehow. Made you think that that was Mom and-”

“Claudia, it was her. She asked about you. I could take you to her right now.”

“No. You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie about this?” Soren gestured to himself. To the markings on his face, the silver hair, the horn sprouting from his head. “How would I lie about this?”

  “This is the illusion,” Claudia said, her voice growing in certainty as she spoke. “This is the illusion and they’ve fooled you somehow.”

“Why would they do that?” Soren exclaimed.

“I don’t know! Why would you leave me? Why would you kill Dad? Why would you try and stop me from bringing him back?”

Soren stopped, the words piercing him like they had sharpened edges.

“Why would you do that?” Claudia asked again, her voice rising in urgency. “Why should I believe anything you say? You say I’m your sister but you’re not my brother. I don’t know who you are.”

There were tears in her eyes and Soren stepped towards her, reaching out as though that would fix everything, if he could just touch her. Hold her the way he used to when they were little and their parents were fighting. When it felt like their family were apart and the world was ending but at least they had each other.

“Clauds-”

“No. Don’t call me that,” she turned away from him, and the fragileness had fled her voice, replaced by a cold, steely resolve. “That’s what my brother used to call me. And you’re not him.”

Whumpuary 2025 | Prompt: "I'm Fine"

 Soren had long lived his life by the Five S’s. Smile. Silly. Swagger. Strong. Another one he hadn’t quite come up with yet. 

 Maybe the fifth S was just Soren. Nobody had asked him, so he hadn’t needed to decide. Because that was the whole point of the Five S’s. Nobody knew about them so long as you did them right. And he’d gotten really good at doing them right.

 He didn’t really remember starting so much as he remembered how he’d felt without them. Small. Weak. Pathetic. Those words didn’t match. They didn’t go together nicely. They weren’t a formula for anything but a bad day. So he’d gotten rid of them.

 When he got knocked down, he pushed himself back to his feet. He smiled, made a quip, flicked the hair out of his face and settled back into fighting stance. And it worked. No more snivelling little boy who needed his Daddy to save him. No more small. Or weak. Or pathetic.

 The Five S’s.

 Smile. Silly. Swagger. Strong. Soren.

 In that order, they made him feel invincible. Or at least, they made him look like he felt invincible. It had worked on Viren, and it had worked on the other Crownguards, and now it worked on Ezran and Callum and the others.

 When the new High Mage made a mention of something Viren had been working on, and all eyes suddenly shot to Soren with pitying glances? Five S’s. Flash a smile, laugh about how gross magic is, prop his feet on the table. They’d roll their eyes and the conversation would continue.

 When King Ezran asked about the mission to find Claudia and everyone’s voices lowered, eyes casting to the floor? Lean forward with a grin, make a joke about how Claudia had always been sneakier than him, but how he had muscles. Flex. If he was lucky, he’d get a chuckle out of Barius. Either way, the conversation would move on, lighter than before.

 Funny how the tricks he used to use on his family he now had to use about them. They never did seem to go away, even when they were… away.

 Not like funny funny. More like… sad funny.

 But nobody noticed the difference. Nobody except Corvus, that was.

 When everybody else laughed, Corvus just gave him a measured stare. When they rolled their eyes at him, Corvus would sigh and glance away. When they moved on, Corvus stayed put, gaze roving over Soren’s face.

 Soren would chuckle, and give the other man a wink, which usually got Corvus to look away, eyes all wide and a flush creeping up his neck. Embarrassed he’d been caught staring, probably. But as soon as he looked away, and no one was paying attention, Soren would sink down lower in his chair and the smile would fall from his lips.

 Because magic was gross, but it wasn’t funny. And his sister was better at sneaking around, (he’d never thought he’d say this), but he missed being snuck up on.

 He remembered when she used to do it, he would always get so annoyed. Feeling like it was some failing in his Crownguard training or his skills or him that she was able to get inside his defenses. He would ask her to stop, and tell her it was annoying, and she would get all smug that he was frustrated and gloat about being the ‘invisible mage’.

 One time he’d had a really bad day at training, and he’d said he wished she was invisible, so she would just go away.

 He’d apologized immediately, and she’d said it was fine. She hadn’t snuck up on him for a few days after that, though. Now it felt like that, but if that horrible, twisting feeling in his gut that he’d felt whenever she didn’t pop out from behind some pillar or dark crevice was forever. Like suspense mixed with guilt mixed with loneliness. And that was not a good recipe for soup. In fact, it made him nauseous.

 And somehow Corvus could see that, even when none of the others could. Somehow Corvus could see past the Five S’s. He looked past the smiles and the silly and the swagger. He ignored the strong and saw the Soren underneath. Unprotected. Exposed.

 Small. Weak. Pathetic.

 And he hated it. 

 But it wasn’t like you could ask someone to stop seeing you. And even if you could, asking would have meant admitting that the Five S’s existed, and that would defeat the whole purpose. So instead he just got better at the sixth S, the one that he only needed for Corvus. The one he’d learned from Claudia.

 Sneaky.

 When he was feeling like magic wasn’t funny, or the sadness soup was making him nauseous again, he would slink off and find one of the little spots in the castle that only he knew about. Before Soren had been able to hide in plain sight, his own kind of sneaky. Now he needed both kinds.

 So he would find an abandoned broom closet, not used since the day of King Atticus. Or he would use one of those little passages Viren and Claudia had used to get around. One of the ones they hadn’t sealed off, because no one knew about it except him and them, and they weren’t around anymore to abuse them. 

 Also because not all of them led to places that were evil.

 Soren would go to one of those, the not evil places that still reminded him of Claudia and his Da- Viren, and he would seal it up behind him so that no one would spot the difference and he would just sit and be there in the them.

 He’d found one place, his favorite, hidden behind a shelf in the library. It must have been one of Claudia’s favorites, too, because it still smelled like her. That weird, slightly bitter, slightly sweet smell that was unique to her, created by whatever perfume she wore trying to cover up the ashy smell of Dark Magic. It made his nose tingle a little bit, and a few times he’d sneezed (maybe from that, maybe from the thick layer of dust now coating everything). But nobody seemed to notice. The library was usually pretty empty, save for Callum, but he rarely ventured into the Dark Magic section. Or at least, not when he thought people might be looking.

 So Soren would go there after council meetings, sometimes. Or in the dead of night, when he couldn’t sleep. Or when he was eating lunch and somehow the food reminded him of her. Or-

 He would go there a lot.

 And he would sit, and let the smile fall off his face, and his shoulders slump a little bit, and he would lean back against the wall and stare at what must have been her desk, still scattered with the remnants of whatever spell she’d been working on before they left. And he would just… Soren didn’t really know what he did. Just that sometimes it felt like minutes but ended up being hours, and that sometimes it felt like hours but ended up being minutes.

 Then he would straighten up, brush the dust off, and slip out into the library again. Nobody would notice he’d been gone, they rarely did. There weren’t as many people to notice, anymore. And for a little while, sneaky being the sixth unofficial S worked. Or maybe it was the fifth, and Soren wasn’t really one of the S’s. Because maybe Soren got lost along the way, buried beneath smiles and silliness and swagger. Maybe Soren wasn’t strong enough to be one of the Five S’s.

 Maybe that was what Corvus had been noticing. The chink in his armor.

 Maybe that was what led him to find the little nook in the library where he could let it all down and just be Soren.

 And then one day he was training some of the new guards in the courtyard, and he took a bit of a tumble (a sign he was doing his job well, Soren reminded himself). It hadn’t bothered him much while they were training (it had) but afterwards he took a moment to sit on the bench beneath that old tree in the courtyard, and just poke at his twisted ankle (that made it decidedly worse, not better). 

 Soren sighed, straightening up to go inside. Then he made the mistake of glancing up at the tree above him. For a moment he just enjoyed the way the light filtered through the leaves, thinking absently about a poem he might write. And then he remembered Claudia, the memory so vivid she might as well have been sitting right there next to him, urging him on as he tried to climb to the highest branch.

 He’d been ten, she eight, and she’d dared him to get a feather from a bird’s nest that was at the very top of the tree. So of course he’d grinned at her, asked if that was a challenge, and swaggered on up to the tree to get it for her. He remembered her wide eyes when he’d glanced down at her from halfway up the trunk, and the way she’d chanted his name as he reached the top and held the collected feather aloft. 

 He’d made it back down to the lower branches and decided it was a good idea to drop the rest of the way, saying he could just tuck and roll and it would look cool. It hadn’t looked cool and he’d ended up with a twisted ankle. Viren had been angry, saying he acted recklessly and giving him a proper scolding. But the next day Claudia had bounded into his bedroom going on and on about the spell she was going to use the feather in, so it had been worth it.

 And when she’d asked about his ankle, he’d flashed her a smile, said it was going to take more than a tree to take him out, and puffed out his chest. She’d laughed, rolled her eyes, and gone back to jabbering about Dark Magic and spells and whatever else she was going to do that day with their Dad.

 So naturally, sitting under that tree now, without her, was a terrible idea. Soren hobbled up to the library to be alone, not wanting anyone else to see him getting all melancholy because of a tree (that was silly, and not the Five S’s kind). But he was distracted and didn’t notice the way the bookcase was already slightly ajar even before he pushed it open. Soren nearly stumbled right into Corvus.

 “Soren?” The other man seemed a little surprised, jumping as Soren quickly took a step back to avoid colliding with him.

 “Oh, uh, hey, Corvus.” Soren quickly returned the smile to his face, rolling his shoulders back. “What’re you doing in here? A little musty for a hangout, don’t you think?”

 “I could ask you the same thing,” Corvus said, raising an eyebrow at him.

 Soren squirmed. “I, uh, just needed to- How did you find it?” he blurted.

 “You’re not that sneaky.”

 “Yeah, well,” Soren eased himself down onto the ground, gingerly stretching his leg out in front of him, “I’m still learning.”

 “But why?” Corvus asked, staring down at him with those big brown eyes. “Why sneak around in the first place?”

 “I just… needed some space.”

 “Are you okay?”

 “I’m fine.”

 “Is your leg okay?”

 “It’s fine, too.” Soren glanced up at him, flashing his most dazzling smile and flicking the hair out of his eyes with a toss of his head. “Gonna take more than a little fall to keep me down.”

 But Corvus’ lips didn’t so much as twitch upward. “Are you okay?”

 “I already said I’m fine, Corvus,” he repeated, shifting uncomfortably. Corvus’ eyes bored into his and he glanced away. “I just over extended my leg, okay? It’s a flaw in my stance. I’ll fix it.”

 “I wasn’t asking about your stance,” the other man said, hesitating for a moment before pulling the bookcase shut. He crossed the little space and sat beside Soren on the ground. “I was asking about you.”

 “And I told you I’m-” Soren broke off, blue eyes meeting brown. He glanced away, quickly. “I’m fine.”

 “As you keep assuring me.”

 “Well, I keep assuring cause I’m sure.”

 Soren stiffened momentarily as Corvus laid a hand gentle on his shoulder, the other man’s voice going low and soft. Lower and softer. “It’s okay to miss them.”

 “Nothing to miss,” he said, quickly. A little too quickly. “He was evil and she’s…”

 “They’re still your family.”

 “No-” Soren shook his head once. Then again, swiftly after. “No. No, don’t say that. I’m nothing like them.” He shrugged away from Corvus’ touch, arms crossing over his chest.

 “That’s not the same thing,” Corvus told him. “That’s not what I said. It’s not what that means.”

 “Then what does it mean?” Soren asked him, blue eyes flashing. “Family are the people you’re like. They’re the people who’ve got your back. They’ve never-”

 “They’re the people who shaped you,” Corvus said. “That doesn’t mean you’re like them. You’re nothing like him, Soren.”

 Soren glanced away, the fire in his eyes fading. “Thanks.”

 “Are you okay?”

 “I’m fine.”

 “Has it ever occurred to you,” Corvus said, “that you should more than ‘fine’?” The words might have been teasing, were it not for the look in his eyes. “That sometimes you should be ‘good’ or maybe even ‘great’?”

 Soren glanced at him, then away. “I’ve been fine with being fine for a while,” he admitted.

 “I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life, but… maybe ask if that’s how you want to be? Fine?” Corvus pushed himself to his feet, giving Soren a small smile. He patted him on the shoulder, a little awkwardly, Soren thought. Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to.

 “How’d you find this place?” he asked again, as Corvus went to leave.

 The other man glanced back at him. “I wanted to make sure you were good.”

 It only occurred to Soren that that wasn’t really an answer to his question when Corvus had slipped out into the library already, easing the bookshelf closed behind him.

 The next day, when Soren left the council meeting, he jogged a few paces to catch up with Corvus in the hall.

 “Hey.”

 “Soren,” Corvus nodded, glancing sidelong at him. “You seem chipper.”

 “Yeah, I’m good.”