#estiver

13. “If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

It’s been… a day.

Between Oliver still being comatose when the day began, to fighting Vileheart for the second time (without Oliver, mind you), to Oliver waking up and defeating Vileheart with a new spell and a vengeance, Esther thinks she can safely say she hasn’t had this much emotional tax since the day her father tried to fight Shadar, who had subsequently decided to pay her a visit. The hardships aren’t over yet, however. They still have to trek through the Miasma Marshes for a second time, then it’s to Nevermore to defeat the Dark Djinn himself.

Oliver, having just woken from a coma (in which he found out his mom is dead forever) had been anxious to get going, even suggesting they start the journey the very next day. Esther doesn’t understand it, and clearly neither do Swaine and Drippy, seeing as they immediately help her to shut that idea down. They’re having at least one rest day, preferably a few. Oliver pouts, but otherwise doesn’t complain.

The Cat’s Cradle gives them a free room with three beds, and though Oliver is confused, the others take it with a sighed “thank you”. News of Oliver’s condition had spread quickly considering how tiny Perdida is, and after a week of staying there you get to know the townspeople, including the innkeeper, just a little. Swaine takes the bed nearest the door, Oliver the one next to his, and Esther takes the one on the opposite side of the room. Drippy, who had stolen a cushion from the inn lobby, throws it onto Oliver’s bed as Oliver tosses his bag in a corner. All of them start to settle in, lying on top of their beds quietly.

Five minutes of awkward silence later, Oliver sits up from where he was leafing through his Wizard’s companion without actually reading it, slamming the book shut and making everyone jump. “I’m going for a walk,” he says shortly, moving to do just that. Drippy moves from his cushion to follow, but Oliver turns around and stops him. “Mr. Drippy, you look exhausted,” he says softly. “I’ll be fine.” The two of them have a slight stare off before Drippy grumbles to himself and lies back down.

Oliver is almost out the door when Esther sits up too. “I’ll come with you,” she says decidedly, and Oliver turns to tell her what he told Drippy, but wilts under her gaze.

“Okay,” he says defeatedly, and Esther shuffles off of her bed and follows him out. Swaine says nothing, but watches them leave out of one eye. Drippy seems more relaxed with Esther going as well, and turns over just as she leaves.

They leave the inn in silence, the sun beginning to set over Perdida, giving them a pink-orange backdrop. Not as many people are out as before, and the two walk in an awkward silence through town, not quite sure where they’re going. “So,” Oliver starts, quietly. “…How are you?”

Esther’s quiet for a moment, before bursting into giggles. “How am I?” she says, between laughter, “I’m not the one who just got out of a magical coma.”

Oliver glances up at her, and smiles. “I guess not,” he says, laughing slightly along with her. “But… I did miss a week. Did anything interesting happen?”

Esther hums. She has to think about it, seeing as most of the past week had been filled with sobbing, and she doubts that’ll lighten the mood. “I learned a new song,” she says. “Raises defense.” Refrain, it’s called. She doesn’t tell Oliver why she learned it, of course. If Swaine had been punching a few walls while he had been out, that wasn’t her business. Making Swaine’s hands hurt less with every punch had been something she had been able to do to help, and god, had she needed it then.

“That’s really great, Esther!” Oliver says, beaming up at her. “I… know we’re all pretty tired,” Understatement, Esther thinks, “but show it to me tomorrow?”

“Sure!” Esther says, grinning. It’s like Oliver was never gone. “Oh! I thought of another thing. The other day, there was a visitor from Hamelin.”

“Really?” Oliver’s eyes widen.

“Mhm! It wasn’t Marcassin, but he sent his regards. He’s never been to Perdida, so he couldn’t cast Travel, and he had duties to attend to… Oh, and-”

They continue chatting as they walk out of town, Oliver of course waving to the guard as they go by, mostly about nothing, Esther catching Oliver up on the things he’d missed (which wasn’t much, considering the past week was her, Drippy, and Swaine realising how much their life had begun to revolve around Oliver), and for a moment it almost seemed like he’d never left.

…For a moment.

They sit on the grass near the edge of the cliff, near where Esther had found Swaine just that morning. There’s an area of the grass near them that’s been scuffed up from their fight with Vileheart, which Esther decides to ignore. Unfortunately, she only manages to do so for so long.

Oliver laughs. Oliver laughs, and it’s so stupid, but Esther hasn’t heard him laugh in what feels like years. Hasn’t even heard his voice in what feels like years. She’s just watched him as he laid perfectly, deathly still, not shifting an inch.

“Esther?” Oliver says, causing her to look at him. “What’s wrong?” he asks, and she wonders how he can say that when he’s… alive. She’s been staring at his still as a statue face for the past week, letting the hours tick by. She had almost forgotten what shade of blue his eyes were, and now that they’re open and awake and bright… it’s too much.

She attempts to swallow past the lump in her throat, and doesn’t succeed. “I’m fine,” she says, and winces at how pathetic her voice sounds.

Oliver shakes his head. “No you’re not. What’s wrong?”

Esther takes a moment to pull herself slightly more together, then says, “I just… you’re here.” She almost laughs at Oliver’s confused face. “You’re alive. You’re awake. I… we didn’t know if…” She sniffles, and sincerely hopes the implication was clear, because she doesn’t think she can keep talking.

The first tear falls from Esther’s eye and drops down onto her hands, bunched in her lap.

“Esther…” Oliver murmurs. “I… I’m sorry…” Esther lets out a choked laugh, inhaling as she tries to stop the tears from coming. He’s sorry? He isn’t the one having a breakdown because he’s back from the possible dead.

“Oliver,” Esther says, when she gets the slightest moment to breathe, “If you don’t hug me right now, I think I might fall apart.” As if she hasn’t already fallen apart, as if she isn’t currently falling apart.

Oliver immediately moves and wraps his arms around Esther, who hugs back with a vengeance as she starts actively sobbing, because Oliver is alive, and you’d think after repeating it so much it would become less remarkable, but somehow it hasn’t. Esther hugs Oliver tighter, and he returns it, shifting in order to hug her easier. They stay like that until Esther’s sobs turn into breathy sniffles.

“I…” Oliver sounds choked up as well as he speaks into Esther’s shoulder, sniffling slightly. “I’m not gonna die. I’m gonna… I’ll be here for as long as you need me,” he says, and Esther doesn’t like how he avoids saying forever, wondering what that means. She ignores it as she blubbers into Oliver’s shoulder.

“Promise?” she says shakily.

“…Promise,” Oliver murmurs, pulling away and facing Esther.

Esther realises Oliver’s crying too, though to a lesser extent than her. He smiles through his tears, eyebrows bunched together, and laughs quietly, sadly. He sniffs. “I swear to… to stay with you guys for as long as you need me.”

“…Yeah?” Esther says, ignoring the wording again. “You… you will?” She knows she already got a promise, but she really needs to hear it again.

“Yeah.”

“…Okay.”

Oliver moves back to sitting beside Esther, leaning his head on her shoulder. She leans back, and they watch as the sun moves below the horizon, and the sky gets darker. “We should probably go back to the inn soon,” Esther murmurs, and Oliver hums in agreement, but neither of them move to do so.