#nedryn-laughs

Nova had been getting ready all the while Erik stared down his closet, in more or less a fraction of the time. To a point, at least; the blue linen shirt and yellow duster of that ensemble had taken no time at all, but Nova had clearly been fiddling with that bandana for far longer than he should have. 

(Erik had no idea where Gemma had gotten those togs from, but a part of him thought that maybe this was some comeuppance of hers, after Nova’s teasing comment about her consistent headscarf fetch quests.)

He stopped with the bandana, though, and turned to Erik with a genuine look of confusion. “Why my favorite?”

“Well, wouldn’t you know it: I have too many choices now.” Erik shrugged. “You’ve got a better eye for detail than I do.”

“Do not.”

“Uh, you do, though? As far as clothes are concerned, at least.” Erik grinned. “Don’t tell me all your forging finesse was just for show.”

Nova scoffed and rolled his eyes, but it was with a matching smile to Erik’s, so clearly no harm had been done. Even if Nova did think him silly for his reasons, he did still take a moment to mull over an answer.

“…The stole.” He said at last.

Erik blinked. “The stole?”

“Yeah.” Nova affirmed. “I always thought that looked really nice on you.”

“Huh.” Not that Nova’s opinion was wrong; Erik also thought the stole looked pretty good on him, and he’d never been especially shy about his body when it wasn’t a matter of life or death (Serena was another story, but this wasn’t about her, why did she wear a belly dancer outfit in a frozen tundra–). But it did seem odd for Nova to single that one out, specifically. “Bit of a dark horse there, aren’t you?”

“Wh–no!”  Nova stammered. “Come on, Erik, don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not, I’m not, I swear!” Erik just laughed, and raised hands in mock surrender before turning back to his wardrobe. “It just wasn’t what I was expecting, is all. It’s never been one you’ve said too much about.”

He continued to speak while he pulled out the stole in question, and gathered its smaller pieces out of a jewelry drawer. “You remember way back when it was just us, right? And we left after seeing Derk, and he gave me back my old coat from back in the day, and you kept saying how cool you thought it was.” 

“Well–yeah, because it was cool.”

“It is! But then you got that pirate coat out of Nautica for me, and that was certainly a look you were taken with. And then that armor from… oh, where did you find it, Centralis?”

“Centralis.”

“Right. Anyway, my point is, the stole didn’t–I always thought it was more practical?” A practical outfit with a lot of flair, yes, but Erik didn’t mind that so much. Well, expect for the tie around his wrist, that thing was a nightmare to set correctly. “Never realized it made that much of an impression on you.”

After the third failed attempt to create that perfect criss-cross pattern, Erik clicked his tongue at the string, and turned back to ask Nova for help–but he didn’t make it very far before stopping in his tracks. “Nova?”

Nova wasn’t looking at him. Still seated in the vanity chair, he had his gaze focused intently on his lap, where his hands rested and wrenched that headscarf anxiously. To say nothing of the deep shade of red blooming on his face.

“…It’s, um.” Nova muttered, quietly. “It’s the one I made you.”

And it all clicked for Erik then, and a part of him couldn’t believe that hadn’t crossed his mind before. His other clothes were things he’d had before, or things found amongst treasure free for the taking; of course Nova, who always showed how much he cared for people with his own two hands, would favor that Erik wear something that he had crafted for him alone. 

Even if it hadn’t been made with any initial romantic intent (and Erik greatly doubted it had been, they had a lot going on around the time they got that crafting recipe), it was an incredibly straight-forward reason for Nova to have. Naive, almost–but that was just how Nova was, and that was just how Erik loved him.

Goddess, he had a way of leaving Erik gobsmacked–without even the slightest bit of effort! His biggest prize, indeed.

Nova didn’t seem to notice when he came over, and only broke away from his hands when Erik curled a hand around his neck, pulling Nova towards him to press a kiss to his hair. Even from that, Erik could feel any remaining nervous tension bleed out of Nova, coupled with a quiet sigh of contentment, and when Erik pulled away, Nova looked up at him with those big, sweet eyes of his, soft and curious.

Erik said nothing, only smiled, and held out the tie he’d been fumbling with before. “Help me out with this thing, and I’ll set that bandana right.”

Nova didn’t respond for a moment, face blank, but that blush of his came back again, lighter and lovely, and he ran a hand through his hair with a sheepish smile before taking the string. 

“You can’t,” he said as he wrapped the tie, “it’ll be too perfect. Gemma will know.”

Professor Davenport shook his head again. “Ms. Taaco, if you are interested in a creative writing major, I suggest speaking to your student advisor. In the meantime, we expect a certain level of decorum in the chemistry department, and one more of these absences will result in an automatic failure.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

“And please stop calling me captain.”

Lup saluted silently and proceeded to the empty chair next to Barry, which she swung into with reckless concern for the beakers and bunsen burners set up on their table. Barry quickly blocked the wrecking ball of her backpack with his hand, narrowly saving the delicate instruments.

“Ah, whoops,” Lup grimaced. “Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.” 

“Right,” Barry nodded far too many times. “Where were you, really? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Just sleeping in.” Lup leaned in close to Barry and flashed a devilish grin. “I snuck in to Taako’s cast party last night and things got a little crazy. Those theatre majors man, I’m telling ya. They really know how to throw a shindig.”

Barry wasn’t quite paying attention, because he was too distracted by the closeness of Lup’s freckles, the closeness of her mouth, the smell of her sweat and deodorant. She curled her braid into a bun at the nape of her neck and Barry’s eyes got caught in the movement of her fingertips. He shook it off - there was no time for this in class. 

“Students,” Professor Davenport announced, “if you’ll turn to page fifty eight in your textbooks and consult the instructions -”

“How come I never see you at any parties?” Lup asked, not looking up from her textbook.

“Huh? Oh, I’m uh, not much of a party guy,” Barry shrugged.

“Shame. What kind of guy are you, then?” Lup flicked on the bunsen burner and Barry jumped at the flash of blue.

“Oh, I don’t know. Small group stuff. One on one stuff. Movies, or picnics, or coffee dates or -” Barry stopped suddenly, pink flushing his cheeks. “I’m just not really a club or concert or party guy.”

“I get it, completely.” Lup nodded as she picked up a slip of paper with a pair of tongs. “Would you ever want to go on one of those one-on-one coffee dates with, say, me?”

“Pardon?” Barry spoke so loudly that Lup jumped, dropping the pair of tongs holding the now-lit slip of paper onto Barry’s jeans. Barry knocked his stool over as he jumped back, furiously slapping the paper off his leg and stomping its smoldering ruins into the floor. Thankfully, the only damage was a black spot on Barry’s jeans, but he and Lup had garnered the full attention of the class.

“Mr. Bluejeans, what have I told you about following proper safety procedures?” 

“I, uh, I -”

“It was me, Professor,” Lup said suddenly. “I wasn’t paying attention and I dropped the tongs.”

Professor Davenport shook his head again. “Ms. Taaco, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave my classroom for the day. I can’t abide by any more of these interruptions.”

“Will do,” Lup saluted the professor as she swung her backpack over her shoulder again. In full view of the class and professor, she flashed another smile at Barry. “Was that a ‘yes,’ then, Barold?” 

Barry felt fully red, all eyes on him. It was all he could do to nod, not even sure what he was agreeing to. “Good!” Lup chirped. “It’s the least you could do, seeing as I got kicked out of class for asking.”

“I -”

“I’m kidding, Bluejeans,” Lup laughed. “This was going to be my last day, anyway.”

Before Barry could ask what she meant, Professor Davenport pointed towards the door. “Ms. Taaco, I’ve asked you to leave.”

“Gotta split, Bluejeans. See you never, professor!” She nearly knocked over several instruments with her backpack as she strode towards the hallway, but paused in the door to look back at Barry. “And I’ll see you tomorrow, around ten?”

The lights of Heliodor’s soldiers are far from them now. If she knows Hendrik as well as she thinks she does--and she does--she knows he at least will come for them eventually. But it’s dark and cold and the storm rages on, and Hendrik isn’t such a fool that he’ll risk his men climbing down a ravine. The search, for the moment, will come to an end.

Jade can’t allow herself to rest, though. Rab, she knows, will be fine. He’s more than enough to take care of the group they’d called out. They’re all safe in his hands. But there’s something more important in her hands now, something that she can’t say was ever best left in her care--but just as before, she’ll try and keep that light safe.

She’s done this before. They both have. Nova sleeps in much the same way he did as a baby, oblivious to the world despite the danger. He’s so much bigger now, and he looks so much like Lady Eleanor it breaks Jade’s heart that he’ll never get to know how true that is. But he’s still a little miracle through and through, from how he burns like the summer sun in Jade’s arms, how his wet hair slips through her fingers as she brushes it out of his face, and how he breathes slow and calm against her skin. 

Moonlight filters through the cloudy sky, and shines on Nova’s face. All of a sudden, it’s sixteen years in the past, and Jade is ten years old again with a basket in her arms, running, running, running as fast as she can. Her brother needed her, then, more than anything. And her brother needs her right now.

Jade knows that he’s only her brother in her own mind. That’s how it always had been, how she always had been: a lonely little princess whose friends lived and traveled near and far from her, who never seemed to stay long, a girl that yearned for stability and the want to be wanted by someone other than her father. She loves her father, of course she does, and she loves Hendrik and Jasper--and she loves Nova just the same.

So dearly she loves him that even if he rejects her--rejects his grandfather, rejects Lady Eleanor and Lord Irwin and all of Dundrasil and how could he not do just that what right do they have to him now--it won’t matter in the slightest. Because Nova is alive, and the relief of that fact alone is enough.

She has to find a safe place for him, warm and dry. There’s an abandoned old cabin not far from the town, she remembers, far enough away that Hendrik won’t think to follow the river there. It will be difficult carrying Nova there on her own (he’s so much taller than her now, the audacity), but Jade has carried him before, and she is no longer a child. She can do this now. She will not fail now.

Jade pulls Nova to his feet, and slings his arm across her shoulders; his head slumps against her shoulders, and he doesn’t so much as stir, and despite the terror and adrenaline coursing through her veins, she can’t help but smile a bit. Just like the baby in her memories.

Jade presses her lips to his forehead. More for her own solace than anything, but it was something she saw Lady Eleanor do countless times when he was a newborn. If he dreams restlessly now, perhaps the vague memory of a mother will calm him.