#samwick

sam gently works at the fish with his pocketknife, hands it to marwick once it’s in an easier to eat state. 

“there you go, love,” he says, whittling away at his piece next. 

once he’s done with this, he sits next to marwick, their shoulders pressed against each other. marwick hums in acknowledgement, he’s never really used endearments openly before, but sam knows some of his past, knows he’s working up to it.

once they’re done eating, they look at the stars together. softly, marwick murmurs, “i’m grateful for you.” 

“and i, for you,” sam says softly. “come to bed.” 

-

the next morning, instead of getting a message via message rat, they get a pigeon from beetle.  it’s addressed to marwick.

sam watches while marwick frowns at the paper, puzzling together the words. he knows that marwick’s always found this difficult, and that marwick doesn’t like asking for help where reading and writing are concerned, but he’s spent parts of his childhood with simon, transcribing scripts for his dyslexic dad, so he thinks he knows what to do.

“let me?” he asks, no judgement in his voice.

“it’s beetle’s handwriting,” marwick says. “too elegant for his own good. you know how these scribes are.” 

sam snorts. “have you seen jenna’s handwriting? it’s all loops. just circles connected by random lines. illegible on a good day, really.” 

“aye, that’s treason,” marwick says with a smirk. “could have you arrested for talking that way about the queen.” 

sam’s eyes widen, even as he holds back laughter. “will you really?” 

marwick laughs, soft and gentle, no spite in it. “you know i won’t, silly.” 

the letter contains an invite to jenna and beetle’s wedding.

“you’ll be my plus one?” marwick asks.

“i mean, i’m sure jen’s sending in a separate invite, family and all that,” sam says. “but of course i am going with you, as your date.” 

marwick frowns.

“i mean, you’ll be my plus one. not vice-versa.”

“careful, heap, or i’ll hit you in the face with a fish.” 

Marwick, to Sam: I told you to stop telling people that.

and marwick is a keeper. sam may have learned magyk going up but he doesn’t really use it and marwick is A Keeper. even if marwick is not as magykal as sam who comes from a historically magykal family, he still knows a lot about magyk and witchcraft in theory. and he’s shown to have a gift at making potions. and he’s the one who finds the ancient ways. he discovers the catalyst for the todhunter moon trilogy.

6: “It’s fine, stop worrying about me”

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He lovedtravelling the Ancient Ways with Marwick, but there was something about thetall, intimidating trees, the fresh air, and the ambient noise of the Marshesthat just couldn’t be replaced.

He sat in his rocking chair on their porch, and took it allin. Yep, travelling could wait. Marwick and he had been gone for too long inhis opinion, and since his scare in the infirmary, they decided to put a haltto their travels for both of them to recover and reconnect with their familyand friends.

“Sammo, you in here?” He heard Marwick yell.

“Yeah, I’m out back!” he responded.

In a few seconds, the back door opened and Marwick strodeonto the porch. He sat in his own chair and just looked at Sam. He furrowed hisbrow a bit when noticed that Sam was wrapped in a blanket with a cup of tea,despite the warmth of the morning. “How long you been out here for?”

“Probably about an hour or so,” Sam responded, holding hiscup closer to his chest. Sam had noticed the anxious look Marwick gave him. Hehad been discharged from the infirmary 3 days prior, and despite Sam reassuringeveryone he was fine, he knew Marwick didn’t totally believe him. He figured ithad something to do with his pallor and the hollow shadows that persisted underhis eyes.

Marwick didn’t say anything; he just nodded and turned tolook at the Marshes.

He knew his boyfriend was a man of few words, but Sam couldfeel the tension left in his silence, like he had something he wanted to saybut he wasn’t saying it.

He took a sip of his tea. He knew what Marwick was thinking.It was what he and everyone else had been thinking for the past few weeks. Heappreciated the concern, but Sam didn’t like feeling like people were walkingon glass when they were around him.

“I’m fine, you know.”

“Hm?” Marwick responded, still looking out over the Marsh.

Sighing, Sam set his cup down. “I’m fine, Marwick. You canstop worrying about me.”

The sounds of the Marsh filled the air as Sam awaited hisresponse. Instead of focusing on Marwick, Sam turned his focus to the sounds offrogs croaking and the babbling of the Moat. Sam didn’t like silence; he had ahard time focusing on anything when there was genuine silence. The absence ofspeech was fine by him, but not the absence of noise.

“I’ve been scared a lot of times in my life,” Marwickeventually said, pulling Sam’s attention back to him, though Marwick’s gaze wasstill set on the scenery in front of him. “I fell out of our boat during aDo-or-Die. I’ve almost been killed by pirates. I’ve lost count of the number oftimes I’ve had some witch or sorcerer come after me. And god knows your family’sgotten me into all kinds of trouble.”

Sam was surprised when Marwick’s warm hand found his, andstarted rubbing circles with his thumb. “But nothing,” he continued, “has everscared me more than almost losing you.”

A long pause passed between the two of them as they watchedthe Marsh, holding each other’s hand.

“You’re still so pale,” Marwick said, finally turning tolook at his boyfriend. His intense brown eyes met Sam’s. “I know you hatedoting, but you didn’t see how you looked when you lost all that blood. Howunresponsive you were.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “How scared your familywas, waiting in there to find out if you’d live or die.”

“I’m not going to leave you. I promise.”

“I know that. Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna worry about you. I’malways gonna worry. That’s what you do when you love someone.”

Sam sighed, but he couldn’t be mad. He let go of Marwick’shand momentarily to scoot his chair closer and spread his blanket across the both of them.

“I love you,” he said softly, tilting his head to lean onMarwick’s shoulder.