By Mina
Standard disclaimers for Majutsushi Orphen: Revenge apply. Very poor, make no money, have no life…get the idea?
Warnings: Introspection, angst, and some shounen ai. I finally got my claws on all of MO:R, so the world should fear me! Er . . . . Anyway, this is a sequel to 'Simple Joy,' the last oneshot fic I wrote for MO, but this (and the subsequently following oneshots) are all interconnected, leading up to 'The Call of Blood.' And if you thought that MO made me think and write too much, wait until you've seen what MO:R has done to me. ;
Majic Lyn was a thoughtful person. It wasn't something that he consciously did; it was simply something that seemed so deeply ingrained into his personality that there was no way of ever removing it. He just . . . thought about things.
And, often, he thought about them too much. Contemplating his spoon again as his three dinner companions laughed, Majic wondered if he could simply dig that stupid thoughtfulness out and leave it somewhere on the roadside.
At first, it had been okay when Lycoris Nielson had first joined up with them. Orphen still didn't care one way or the other, Cleao didn't like the addition of another female into their close-knit group, and Majic . . . .
Majic sighed as Cleao and Orphen began to argue over a piece of chicken, Lycoris' humble words and voice attempting to sooth and dispel potential disaster.
was his place now? He turned the spoon over, eyes critical as they found the flaws in the metallic surface reflected harshly back. They all had flaws, didn't they? Orphen was terrible at opening up, at telling anyone what he was thinking, at admitting simple things like caring. Cleao was terrible at getting caught up in the moment, in being too spontaneous, and forgetting to think about who she might hurt. Lycoris…in Majic's opinion…was too humble, too willing to be led, too willing to be stepped on.
But things changed.
They had all changed. In the three years total that they had spent together, journeyed together, they had changed. Orphen was still volatile to be sure, but he was better about putting into words what he was feeling so that the others didn't feel at such a loss when he got into one of his moods. Cleao was still devious about getting them to do what she wanted, but she stopped to think more often and make certain that whatever mess she was dragging Majic and Orphen into wasn't too life threatening.
And then there was himself, he thought with another sigh, wincing as Cleao screeched indignantly and began to slam her hand onto the tabletop.
How have I changed? he wondered. He was no longer simple Majic Lyn, son of Bagup Lyn, who would one day inherit the Green Inn as boys had done from their fathers for generations in his family. No, Majic would never be a simple inn owner as he had first resigned himself to thinking he would be because of his what he was, the taint he carried deep in his veins. Ueeredo Dragon. Sorceri Blood.
But he was blocked. Inhibited. In the six months that he'd trained at the Tower of Fangs, his teacher, Hartia, had tried desperately to help him break past that barrier that he'd someone managed to erect around the well of magic within himself. But it didn't work---the whole setting just didn't work for him, no matter how comfortable and welcome he had begun to feel. Hartia, Lai, Leticia . . . spunky Erris who wore her heart on her sleeve . . . . They had helped him to grow up in so many ways, helped him to realize things about himself that he'd never dared to before. But they were merely there to nurture what had already begun.
What had begun with meeting a brooding man named Orphen Finrandi.
And there was Stephanie of course. Stephanie, who had made a near fatal mistake that had cost her magic, that had made her make a decision to change from the beautiful and tempestuous Stephan to the beautiful and thoughtful Stephanie. Their talks and studies years ago by the fire, talks of runes and meanings, talks of magic and placement, talks of love and life and all that it entailed . . . . Stephanie had become his pillar for that, for standing up and taking a chance.
Stephanie had been the impetus that dared him to love.
But where was his placement now? With the addition of Lycoris to their group, as Orphen and Cleao began to open up to her…especially after the deserted town incident . . . .
He felt his lips tighten into a scowl and bowed his head, not wanting the others to notice his expression. He heard the spoon creak, and watched as it twisted on itself, warping the angled aqua of his eye to something flat and dark.
No control. Sure, he had learned enough of the basics to manipulate the smaller magics, and his tutelage with Stephanie and Leticia had left him second-to-none in the area of runic reading and use. But when it came to the greater magics, the magics whose use and like Majic seemed to share with Orphen . . . .
He dropped the twisted spoon back onto the tabletop and rose to his feet, keeping his gaze averted as he realized that the others had ceased their bickering. He could feel their eyes on him, weighing, asking, measuring.
Majic swallowed the lump in his throat and said softly, "Excuse me. I need some fresh air."
He escaped the suddenly oppressive room on swift feet, exiting the inn and leaning on the railing of the porch, taking a moment to inhale the night air. It had been a long time since he'd felt this . . . displaced. Yes, he supposed that term fit best. What was his place, right now? Sure, he was still Orphen's apprentice, but in the wake of the monster attacks and the discovery of the Tenjin ruins…in the wake of Lycoris' sudden appearance and the discord it had caused between the members of their group at first . . . .
The magic lessons had gone by the wayside. Not that there were a great deal of magic lessons to begin with, but each and every one was an important memory to Majic. And it wasn't just because he had Orphen's undivided attention in those moments---he could have that other times, as well---but also because he felt things change during those moments. He felt himself change during those moments, like a veil that was slowly clearing from his eyes, allowing him to see clearly at last.
That veil was back, though. Thick and sturdy, it held him back, kept his dreams from reaching reality, kept his beloved Oshou-sama from acknowledging his growth as a sorcerer. And if he couldn't complete his growth as a sorcerer, how could he ever dare to dream that one day he would be acknowledged by Orphen as an equal, in every aspect of their relationship?
And Cleao . . . the girl who had become his big sister, the girl who had her moments of strength and weakness and wasn't afraid to let those close to her see it all . . . . Cleao would always be his big sister, he supposed, but now that she had Lycoris . . . .
Did he hate Lycoris? he mused. No. No, he didn't hate the girl that seemed both maturely determined yet girlishly naïve in her venture to bring Orphen to the Order of Public Knighthood. Did he trust her, though, as Cleao had begun to recently, completely? Did he trust her as Orphen did, because she pulled her own weight with little complaint, happy for the little things of kindness that Orphen dropped her way?
No. No, he didn't trust Lycoris Nielson yet, and perhaps that was what made this teetering displacement all the worse. He was the only one feeling it now, the only one out of sorts, and there was no one that he could share that with now except by letter, and there was no telling how long a reply would take. Here they were, in the middle of nowhere, and even by spirit bird, letters from Leticia and Stephanie could take days to get to him once they began to move again.
"Majic . . . ."
The sky was the shade of near-moonrise, dominated by blue but edged with vivacious green as moonlight began to warp the colours. Green . . . . He frowned, nibbling his lip. Hadn't his mother once said that green was a colour of power, of respect? Hadn't his mother once said that green was everything, that it defined what he was…what they were?
A muffled groan escaped his lips as he buried his face in his hands. So many things about his mother remained a mystery, a mystery that he was certain Orphen knew more of than he let on, just as he was certain that his father hadn't told him the entire truth of the matter. But recently, her voice was strong again, telling him things, reminding him of things…things that he could no longer tell if they were an actual part of his past or something that was recent and only seemed to have been there, in his head, for so long.
"Majic…things aren't always what they seem."
"I know," he said softly, looking back up to the shrinking bands of green. To think that he was out here alone on the porch, speaking with the spirit of his mother, contemplating the reasons that he was…was jealous . . . . His breath hitched again, the corners of his eyes burning.
"But you are of the Ueeredo, my precious Majic; you have no reason to be jealous of anyone that is less than you."
He was, yes. There were many descended from the Ueeredo, but as Stephanie and Leticia had both pointed out, he was the purest Dragon descendent that they'd ever come across. Orphen was attracted to things of beauty and power.
But . . . .
"But you already hold a place in his heart, dearest. Surely that should hold some significance."
Did it? He knew that he was close to Orphen…closer than anyone had been in a long time…yet was he close enough to dispel his fears, his feelings of jealousy? There had been a time when he'd been jealous of Cleao, but that seemed only a mere moment in time, and had been so long ago that it had all but been forgotten.
Perhaps this wasn't really jealousy then. It felt that way, at first, but now that he re-examined the feeling, he realized that it was different. He wasn't afraid of Lycoris stealing his place in Orphen's heart. No, he was fairly certain that now that he'd managed to find a place in Orphen's closely guarded heart, he wasn't going to be removed from there anytime soon.
So what was it then?
"Where is your place, my little love? Friend, brother, apprentice . . . . Do you have too many places to fill, or are you simply worried that one will disappear?"
Disappear . . . . Yes, that was his fear. He liked things the way they were, and didn't want them to change now that he'd found some measure of happiness and acceptance. He wanted things to remain the same, no matter what they faced together, and now that Lycoris had been added to the equation, he feared that change was inevitable.
"Heh, no wonder you escaped out here. Those two can natter and bicker worse than an old married couple."
Majic looked up, eyeing Orphen warily. "Good evening, Oshou-sama."
The look he was met with was hard to describe, stealing his breath. Orphen knew. He shouldn't be surprised, really, because Orphen always seemed to know what he was thinking, often before he did himself. Which really wasn't fair when he thought about it, but thinking was rather hard while being scrutinized by narrow, burnt sienna eyes.
Evil eyes, Volcan called them. Soul eyes, Majic called them.
He pushed away from the railing, turning to run back into the inn, babbling some excuse that he only half heard, desperate to get away from the one person he loved unconditionally and hated to be a wreck around.
But he couldn't escape. Orphen's grip on his wrist was tight but gentle, tugging him back to the railing. Majic could have fought it, could have broken away; he'd learned enough between the Tower of Fangs and Orphen that he wasn't a total pushover anymore.
He didn't, though. He did as he always did and gravitated to Orphen's side, sighing in both contentment and disappointment when Orphen's arm slid around his waist, locking him in place.
"It's quiet outside, tonight."
"Mmmm." Majic kept his eyes downcast, intently studying the wood grain and peeling paint of the rail.
"Hey, Majic?"
"Mmmm?"
There was a sigh, and the fingers at his waist tightened slightly, curling in through the fabric of his loose shirt to press against his skin.
"Whether or not I actually go to this Public Knighthood of Royal Order or whatever . . . ."
Orphen trailed off, and Majic finally looked up, watching with fascination as Orphen struggled for words, absently chewing the corner of his lip. Smiling faintly, he reached up and pulled at the corner of Orphen's mouth, startling his teacher. "You'll chap your lips if you keep doing that, Oshou-sama," he chided.
"But that's what you're here for, right? To help me make sure I don't do stupid things like that." Orphen smiled, grabbing his hand before he could pull it back.
Majic thought for a moment, then allowed his faint smile to remain as he nodded.
"Good."
Warm lips touched his palm, gloved fingers briefly caressing across the back of his hand before Orphen released him.
Majic was content to continue leaning into Orphen's warmth, letting the troublesome thoughts of 'place' slip away…especially when Orphen's hand slid up from his waist to slowly trail through his hair.
"Like the colour of harvest wheat…but in the right light, the colour of the foam caps on the sea . . . ."
"What?" Majic asked, only half catching the words.
"Nothing." Orphen waved off his words with his hand, smiling ruefully. "Just me getting weirdly fanciful. Ready for bed, yet? I think the girls already went while I came outside to find you, given that it's suddenly quiet and peaceful again."
"You didn't have to come out and find me, Oshou-sama, I would've come back in sooner or later." He felt a bit guilty that Orphen had come out to find him. Had he really been outside that long?
"Kid…Majic…wherever you go, if you leave me behind, I'm always gonna come and fine you."
Majic's breath caught in his throat again. "Oshou-sama . . . ?"
"Even if you get annoying, even if I act indifferent, even if something changes in the future…this is where you're supposed to be. This is where I'm supposed to be."
"Here?"
"Not this spot, dummy." Strangely, though, the retort was softened not by a blow to the back of his head but by a gentle caress across his cheek. "With me. By my side."
Looking up to the sky, the green had faded, shifting to velvet black melding with the blue. But around the moon, the effervescent green remained, even as the stars began to prick through the skyscape.
"Keep your place, dearest Majic. Treasure it, as long as you can."
"Of course, Oshou-sama."
"Come on, let's go inside. No more brooding or anything right now, okay?"
Smiling, Majic nodded, allowing Orphen to lead him back into the inn. They trailed up the stairs, and a corner of Majic's mind noted with surprise that Orphen continued to keep hold of his waist, though the hold was no longer that of someone afraid of a captive escaping. It was different, coaxing, friendly . . . .
Orphen stopped outside Majic's door and turned, a calculating glint in his eyes. "Ne, Majic?"
Majic arched an eyebrow. "Yes, Orphen?" His voice was soft…so soft that even if Cleao and Lycoris had been standing a few feet away they wouldn't have heard him. Not that he'd even noticed the slip.
"Mind if I stay with you tonight? I don't relish the idea of another half-asleep girl finding their way into my bed. I can only take so many mornings of getting blown up by Leki."
Orphen came up with the strangest of excuses, Majic thought, grinning unabashedly. But he opened his door, allowing Orphen to precede him as he turned to shut the door and lock it. And when callused, gloveless hands reached for him, turning him, catching him up against a slightly taller body, the smile remained.
When slightly chapped lips pressed against his own, warm and wet, eager and seeking, Majic's eyes slid shut, a shiver running through him to his very soul. Hands tugged at clothing, shedding and falling like water to a pool on the floor, unnoticed in the wake of warm hands upon cooled skin.
And later, when Majic lay spent and exhausted in bed, intertwined with long, dark limbs, soft dark hair spilling across his collarbone, he knew that if he should ever leave this spot, this place at Orphen's side…then he would well and truly be dead.
For better or for worse, Majic Lyn had made a decision. His place was at Orphen's side, forever.