A/N: This is a songfic sequel (Bruno Mars' Just The Way You Are) to my Black Magician Trilogy fanfic "The Magician from Sachaka," also in my gallery and if you haven't already read that you should go and do it, else this will not make any sense.
Edit: I was notified that using song lyrics comes under plagiarism or whatever they call it on the site, so had to remove all the lyrics. Just listen to the song first or while reading and it'll make sense.
Disclaimer: I don't own BMT.
Harry watched as Savana stacked the last piece of wood in place and then lit it all up with a tiny magical spark. The flames danced wildly, casting elongated shadows across the sand. A slight breeze picked up but despite its mild touch it was cold and he distinctly saw Melissa shiver.
Savana had evidently noticed the same thing as he felt the sudden warmth as a barrier encircled the three of them. But Melissa shook her head.
"Don't bother," she said. Then she glanced at Harry. "Well, for him it's all right. But don't waste any of your power on me."
"No way, Mels," protested Harry. "Either we're both in, or both out," he said to Savana.
The woman's eyes glittered with merriment. "Not much point either way," she said. "If I leave you out you'll freeze to death and I won't get my pay. If I let you in I'll have to keep putting up with this nuisance." She nodded at Harry.
"Hey!" he protested as Melissa laughed. Jumping up, he grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it at Savana. The barrier she calmly put up repelled it easily, sending it in Melissa's direction instead.
"Sorry, sorry!" he said loudly as she spluttered and cursed. In reply she hurled some sand at him and a fine sand fight started up which lasted about five minutes.
When they finally sat down, panting for breath, Savana who had been quietly observing from the sidelines deemed it safe enough, now that there was no more flying sand, to go to sleep.
Harry stretched out on the sand, his head resting on Leeza's flank. Savana seemed to have already fallen asleep. Melissa, however, continued to sit by the fire, a dark silhouette against the flames. The breeze picked up again but she didn't shiver this time. She continued to stare into the heart of the dying flames, not moving a muscle for so long Harry wondered if she had fallen asleep sitting up. He rolled onto his front and reached out to touch her arm. "Mels?" he whispered.
She turned her head immediately and her eyes snapped to his. "What is it, Harry?" she said.
"Aren't you going to sleep?" he asked.
"Not yet," she replied.
"You should, you know," he persisted.
She rolled her eyes. "You could replace my mother."
He chuckled. "But all the same, you should," he said, gently tugging on her arm. She extricated herself from his grip. "I'm not sleepy, Harry," she said, turning back to the fire. Her eyes reflected it and another sudden gust of wind lifted her hair, making it float gently about her head. Watching her, Harry felt the sudden familiar quickening of his heartbeat followed by the also familiar light-headedness which made him feel as if he'd downed a whole mug of bol in one go. Except, of course, this was far better than any bol.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice not betraying any of his feelings.
She nodded. He knew from experience that he could go on all night but he could not get her to go to sleep. So instead he took his blanket, tucked it firmly around her shoulders and curled back up. Within a few minutes he felt the slight motion of the sand as she lay down next to him, and smiled in satisfaction.
A far-off howl swept nearer down the road as a strong gust of wind passed along it. It whipped the hood off Melissa's head and Harry started and gazed at her, openmouthed. Melissa looked at his shocked expression and grimaced. "This journey's a secret, remember? Can't take any chance of being recognized."
Harry nodded, still staring at the mess of chin-length curls.
"I know, it looks terrible, doesn't it?" she added with a wry smile.
He shook his head and himself out of his daze. "No, it looks great," he said.
She snorted. "Liar."
"No, really," he insisted. "It suits you. You look prettier with it like that."
"Yeah, right," she replied, continuing along the road.
Harry gazed at her back. It's true, he thought. You're so beautiful. Why won't you believe it?
Melissa placed a large, flat cap on her head and spun around to face Harry. "How do I look?" she asked.
He looked up from struggling with the buttons on the tight-fitting yellow dress. For a moment he didn't recognize her and thought a grubby street urchin had spirited her away and taken her place. Then he saw the familiar black eyes and the full lips and breathed an inaudible sigh of relief.
"Well?" Melissa said.
He glanced all along her body this time. "You look fine. Just like a boy."
"Good," she said. "Though I think this could use a little more dirt." She stooped and, grabbing a fistful of earth, rubbed it onto her cheek.
Harry grabbed her hand and pulled it away from her face. "Don't," he said. "I'm telling you, you look fine. You took me in for a moment earlier, you can definitely fool anyone else."
"But still-"
"Seriously, Melissa, give it a rest," Harry said. "You look exactly like a boy. You don't need to bother with any more dirt." And you don't need to lose any more of your beauty, he added in his head, taking in her thin, illness-ravaged face and the depth her eyes had sunk into it.
Melissa shrugged. "Fine. Need any help with that?"
Harry glanced down at himself and sighed. "Yeah, I think so."
She stepped up to him and buttoned down his dress. Her forehead knocked against his mouth and he repressed a sudden urge to press his lips back onto it. She mustn't know, he told himself. She doesn't feel the same way and it would only ruin our friendship. He instead satisfied himself with gazing at her when she wasn't looking. That's all it can ever be, whispered a voice in his head.
Chesa and Leeza followed Savana's bad-tempered horse out of the Palace stables. Their owners mounted them and rode out of the servants' courtyard entrance, the way they had come in. Savana led them to the square where the market was still progressing. They had to dismount in order to get through the crowd. Savana suddenly turned to them.
"Wait here," she said. "I'll buy us some food for the trip."
"Hurry," said Melissa as Savana disappeared into the crowd.
Harry looked around the square. In the center of all the hub was a pump and several women were standing in a line in front of it, gossiping like fishermen's wives at the Marina as they waited to collect their water. The cobbles in that vicinity were wet and slippery.
A delivery boy ran past the women and skidded on the stones. He landed hard on his backside with a startled yelp, his parcel somersaulting into someone's water bucket.
Melissa and Harry laughed until the tears came into their eyes. They continued to grin as the boy got up and grumpily went off, forgetting to retrieve his parcel for which Harry knew his master would beat him. The same thought must have occurred to Melissa as well as she said "We'd better get that parcel back to him."
She started forward. Harry followed. Melissa turned around. "Savana said wait here," she said. "So you stay here with the horses and I'll give it to him."
"Forget it," said Harry. "You're not going off alone. Savana can find us." With that he pressed Chesa's reins into Melissa's hand. She scowled and, turning around, walked up to the pump and picked up the package. They jogged up to the boy who was just leaving the square. He turned around at Harry's call and his scowl disappeared when Melissa held his parcel out to him. Taking it he exclaimed in rapt wonder, "Thank you so much! I was looking for it and I thought I'd get beaten up by master. Thank you!" He bowed deeply from the waist.
Melissa smiled at him and gave a dismissive wave. But the boy didn't move. He was staring openmouthed at Melissa's mouth. Harry saw two street urchins behind him had also come to a halt gazing at Melissa. She shifted self-consciously. "What? What's wrong with me?" she demanded.
The boy shook his head. "Nothing wrong with you, miss. It's just-you're so beautiful when you smile-"
He petered off as Harry's furious glare bore into him. The street pair behind the boy unfroze and scampered off.
"M-me, beautiful?" said Melissa stammered. Her cheeks were bright red. "Uh, thanks-I guess-"
"Savana's looking for us," said Harry loudly. "C'mon, Melissa." He took her hand purposefully and tugged her away. He leaned back to the boy and hissed, "Don't bother. She'd never fall for someone like you."
He hated himself for the feeling of triumph that swept through him at the boy's crestfallen expression.
But when it comes to Melissa, he thought, I won't let anyone else get near her. And not only because I've got a shine for her. Other people will only hurt her. And that's not going to happen while I'm around.
Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as Melissa leapt onto Chesa's back. He watched for what seemed the thousandth time the familiar way in which she held the reins confidently, how she sat upon her mount with ease, her posture perfect. She looked at him suddenly and her eyes crinkled like they always did when she smiled. He grinned back and wished again he could let her know how he felt. But even if he could have found the guts to do it, he would never be able to say it in front of Savana who was always there, lurking about in the background, playing the part of protector and guide well but it seemed to Harry that she was also being a complete nuisance as otherwise it would have been just him and Melissa, on their way to bring her father back from the dead. Though on that note, it probably was better Savana was with them. From what he had heard about Akkarin, he would probably blast Harry to ashes on finding a strange boy with his daughter.
Harry turned back to watching Melissa in his peripheral vision. As her hair floated out behind her he suddenly remembered the words of the barmaid on their first morning in Arvice. "Your friend might be young, but she is also very beautiful." He snorted quietly. Anyone with eyes could see that. It was widely acknowledged in Imardin that Melissa of Delvon was one of the prettiest girls to grace its streets. Melissa herself remained oblivious to this fact, which was quite sad. He wondered how she would react if he told her.
He moved Leeza alongside Chesa and opened his mouth to say the words but at the last moment swallowed them down. Melissa looked at him oddly.
"You getting a heatstroke or something?" she asked.
Harry shook his head. "Nah." Not heatstroke, he added in his thoughts. Just love sickness.
Oh, you know, you know, you know I'd never ask you to change
"What!" yelped Harry when Melissa had revealed her plan. "You want ME to dress up as a girl?!"
"Yep," grinned Melissa.
"Nuh-uh," said Harry. "Forget it. You dress up, you already are one, what do you need me for?"
"Because I, my dear friend, will be dressed up as a boy."
This time Harry's jaw sagged right to the floor.
"Excuse me?" he whispered. "You're going to be a guy and I have to be a girl? That doesn't make any sense. Did you knock your head somewhere?"
"No, I did not," replied Melissa. "See, I need to sneak into one of the Palace Guardhouses and I need you to create a distraction. It would be easier for a girl. But since I'm the one who has to sneak in you have to be the distracter. It makes sense if you are the distraction."
"Okay, I get that," said Harry grudgingly, "but I don't see why you have to disguise yourself as a boy."
"It's so that nothing will happen to me if I'm caught," she said.
"D'you have to?" he said. She nodded. "Fine, then. Find me a dress."
She grinned and ran off to nick a dress from a nearby cloth-vendor's stall. Harry sighed.
Mels, he thought. Do you have to do this? You're so much better as yourself. I wouldn't have asked you to do it. I wish you'd just stay the way you are.
"Are you insane, Mels?!" he roared. "You can't go around giving your life up, you know what you're doing-"
"I do know, Harry," she replied, eyes bright. "I want this. You have no idea how much my mother misses my father; so much she would exchange me for him. It's true, you don't need to look so shocked," she added to Savana. "After I found that out-well, I wasn't sure what to do but when I found out about this," she gestured to the altar, "I knew I had to do it. I wasn't planning to give up my life but-" she took a deep breath "-if that's what it takes-I mean I don't see much point in living if nobody loves me-"
"You think mothers are the only ones who can love?" Harry hissed. "Mels, I-I-Rothen loves you! And Dorrien and Cery and-and-the entire freakin' world if you'd just give it a chance!"
"I don't care about that, Harry," Melissa said, looking at him sadly. "All those people could love me to pieces but it still doesn't-I-anyway-"
She turned back around to face the Spirit King. "I offer you my life. Please take it and give my father back." No, thought Harry. Melissa, don't, please…
It's too late, whispered another voice at the back of his head. Nothing can reverse what she's done.
I wish things were the way they were before this, he thought. Why did it all have to change?
So, don't even bother asking if you look okay You know I'd say
They came to a stop in sight of the Guild gates.
"We're home, Father," said Melissa.
Akkarin stared at the gates for a long while, then turned around in the saddle and looked at Harry. "Thank you for helping us," he said.
His tone said much more and Harry understood it all. Nodding, he looked at Melissa. "Good-bye then."
He felt a catch in his throat. I'm never going to see her alive again, he thought. This is my last chance, even if it is in front of Akkarin. But still he didn't do anything, just sitting there staring at her, doing his best to keep the moisture out of his eyes. It was Melissa who moved, shifting towards him. She seemed about to say something to him, something she didn't want her father to hear, so he leaned in as well. Instead she kissed him, warm and hard, on his cheek, lips lingering for several moments. As she drew back Harry met her gaze and this time could not hold back the tears; they flowed out of him, repelling all attempts to control them and he had to turn away quickly so that Akkarin wouldn't see them.
Behind him he heard her voice. "Good-bye, Harry." It sounded so sad.
He nodded and turned Leeza around and cantered away as fast as he could.
Three days later Harry watched the flames rear their heads at the sky as the funeral pyre burnt and smouldered. The crowd of magicians all stood around with sombre faces, several huddling around the grief-stricken parents, trying to comfort them as Sonea shook uncontrollably in her husband's arms. Akkarin was white-faced and silent, speaking only when he had to to the people around them. Harry saw Lord Dorrien standing quite close to the pyre, his expression unreadable, the flames making shadows dart and dance across his face. His father Lord Rothen was some way behind, staring mutely at the fire. Next to him Ambassador Dannyl was talking to a red-eyed Lady Vinara, asking exactly what had… happened? Harry couldn't hear and frankly, did it matter? What was the point of asking what events had conspired for this horrible tragedy to take place, grieving out loud, wailing their disbelief to the skies, telling each other that everything would be all right again? Nothing whatsoever, because whatever anyone said or did would not bring back the girl whose body was now only a pile of ashes, soon even those to be gone. Nobody would hear her talk again, watch her stroke and comfort an injured animal, see those clear eyes light up and the skin around them crinkle as she laughed. Melissa of Delvon was unutterably and irrevocably gone, and Harry knew that, unlike her father, she would never come back.
He continued to watch her body burn, eyes hard and unblinking. What was the point in going to pieces like so many of the people around him, trumpeting out their grief for all to see? Show. It was all for show. None of them truly cared about Melissa, none of them knew what she had really gone through, understood how much she had suffered, before giving it all up in order to escape. Only he had understood her and loved her. Not even her own parents, not the mother who had rejected but now mourned her, nor the father for whom she had given up her life loved her as much as he did. And since she hadn't known any of their love she was right, there really wasn't any point in living. When seen in that light, death was actually a blessing, and Harry knew with a gut feeling that she was in a much better place.
He touched the spot on his face where she had kissed him. If only if he hadn't been such a fool, if only he had mustered up his courage and kissed her back-
But those are all ifs, the voice from that night said. Bit too late for that now.
I don't know anything about ifs, Mels, he thought. I just know I wish none of this had ever happened. But they did, and I can't change it. This is the way things turned out to be, just the way they are, and so are you, now.
Harry woke up gasping and drowning in white sheets. He got tangled up in them and with an almighty yell fell out of bed. Rubbing his head where it had hit the floor he clambered back onto the mattress and tried to remember what he had been dreaming about. His hand thudded to his side as he recalled. Melissa. He had been dreaming about her again.
Folding his legs, he sat cross-legged on the bed and leant back against the headboard. Closing his eyes, he tried to recall the flashes of memory that had visited him. They had been especially clear this time. When he had been startled by her new haircut… when the Sachakan boy had called her beautiful… when she explained why she wanted to give her life up… when he had gone for her funeral.
He curled up on his side as he remembered the last bit. It had been over a year since then but the memory still haunted him, more than all the others. It was so wrong. She had had her whole life laid out before her. She had been about to join the Guild. She'd told him she hoped to be a Healer like her mother. And he had seen, someday in that far-off future, a part with him slipping a ring onto her slim white finger…
He buried his head in his pillow as great, harrowing sobs burst out of his windpipe. He hated himself for succumbing to tears. He had been able to hold it off for so long, always managed to stop it before it began so that no one would see. But this time there wasn't, and a part of him which was usually smothered by the stoic fourteen-year-old was glad he was finally able to let it all out. So he cried until he lay drained, his hair soaking up the tears from his dripping wet pillow. After a while his mind moved to the moment she had kissed him. The expression in her eyes, he hadn't been able to read it but for a split second he had been certain, had known that she loved him, every bit as much as he loved her, ounce for ounce, soul for soul. And he had never told her a single thing of what he felt, never let any indication of his thoughts show. It was heartbreaking but it was the path he had chosen; why, he still didn't know. He had never said the words out loud so he said them now, when it was too late, when they had no effect, no impact on the object of their desire, but still he said them.
"I love you, Melissa," he whispered.
There was no reply.