Author note
Warning: Fluff, smut, possibly some angst, bad language. NOthing too bad in early chapters, but will get worse.
Pair: Mo and Dustfinger
Disclaimer: If I owned the Inkheart series, I'd be ecstatic, but I wouldn't have done such a great job writing it. I also would be German, married and awesome. I am none of these things.
Meggie was sitting on a high wall with a new story from Fenoglio when it happened. Her mother rushed along the walkway, faster than most people moved on the uneven paths along the streets of Ombra. Mo was right behind her calling her name.
"Resa, please, just wait! Listen to me!"
"Leave me alone! I'm going home!" she sounded as if she was close to tears. Dustfinger followed at a more sedate pace, but only just barely. Meggie dropped down onto the path in front of him, making the fire-dancer nearly bump into her, but he neatly sidestepped the girl and carried on hurrying after the Folcharts.
"What's going on?" she asked, falling in step beside him.
"If you're mother is doing what I think she is, you may have a difficult choice to make soon." Cryptic as ever. Dustfinger hadn't changed over the last few years.
All of them, Feoglio, Resa, Mo, Meggie, Elinor, Darius, and Farid, they'd been trapped in the Inkworld for almost four years. Meggie was in a stable relationship with Doria, and had been since Farid left. He'd done as he had told Meggie he would, and toured the villages putting on fire shows for the people, just as Dustfinger once did. Dustfinger himself was happy with Roxanne, who visited Resa and Mo on a regular basis. Fenoglio still lived with Minerva and her children, down the street from Elinor and Darius.
Now, their peace seemed shattered, as Resa stormed down the cobbled streets, determinedly marching towards Fenoglio's house. Up the stairs, and then she was banging furiously on the writers door.
"Inkweaver! Open this door! You're sending me home and that's final! I don't care how long it takes! I don't care if I lose my voice again! Send! Me! Home!" she shrieked the last three words, kicking the door with each syllable. The door opened, revealing an irritated Fenoglio.
"Yes, Resa, what is it?" he snapped, "I'm busy, can't you see?" he held up his hands, spattered with black marks.
"Send me home!"
"Yes, yes, I heard that bit." The old man scratched his cheek, leaving a smear of ink across his skin. "But, by all of the letters in the alphabet, why are you suddenly so keen to leave?" Resa glanced around, and seemed to notice her two extra followers for the first time. Her eyes sparkled with tears at the sight of Meggie, but flashed at Dustfinger, with an emotion Meggie couldn't place.
Mo reached out to his wife, but Resa struck his hand away, only to grab his wrist and force him through the door past Fenoglio. She nodded Meggie through after him, and then followed, leaving Dustfinger to follow of his own accord. He did, and shut the door behind him, closing them all in the writer's room.
"Now, what's going on here?" Fenoglio huffed. "Why are you making so much noise? Send you back, you say? Well, I can write something, but I must say, I'm surprised you want to leave; you've all settled in so nicely, and after everything that's happened-"
"Oh, be quiet!" Resa snapped, losing her temper with the old man. "I don't care about any of that now! My life here is over, and I want to go home." She sounded tired now, and her tears flowed as freely as raindrops from a thundercloud.
Fenoglio looked between his guests, and sighed, falling heavily down into his chair, sending Rosenquartz and Jasper scurrying out of the room with a glance.
"Sit down, the lot of you. Tell me what's going on." No-one moved.
Meggie looked between her parents. Resa was silent, as if her voice had abandoned her again, like when Darius had read out of Inkheart for the first time. Mo's silver tongue failed him, and he stammered for a moment before falling silent. However, the few broken and confused words were enough for Meggie to understand.
"Oh, Mo…" she put a hand to her mouth. He couldn't meet her eyes. Resa shook her head scornfully.
"That's right. Go on and hide, Mo, the way you always do. Only our daughter can read you now, but when we met you were an open book." She scoffed. "This story changed you. I don't know you any more."
"What in the blazes are you people talking about?" Fenoglio complained, completely bewildered. "I refuse to write a single word until you explain exactly what is going on here!"
"Mo cheated on Resa." It was Meggie finally said it.
"Meggie," Dustfinger's voice was quiet, but echoed around the now silent room, "it's not as simple as that." Meggie waved him away.
"So you were faithful for the nine years you were trapped here alone?" she turned to her mother. "I know Mo had girlfriends back in the other world, and I doubt you were alone for nine whole years. He makes one mistake now, just one, and you walk away?" she shook her head. "I thought you were better than that."
"He didn't just cheat, Meggie." Dustfinger was at her elbow, hand resting lightly on her shoulder. "Your father fell in love with someone else. Resa could ignore flings and affairs – neither of them are perfect – but they both deserve happiness, and if they aren't in love with each other anymore, they have no future." Meggie looked at Mo.
"Is it true?" she asked gently. He nodded. Resa started crying again. Fenoglio passed a weary hand across his face.
"Look, Resa." He voice was gentler now that he knew what he was dealing with. "Why don't you think about it? Give it a week or so, visit everyone. Make sure that this is really what you want. If you're still sure you want to leave, I'll have something ready, and I'll try and do it so you can come back if you like, but I can't promise that it will work." Resa nodded, understanding.
"That's fine. I'll be back in a week." She swept out, leaving the others where they sat. As the door closed, Fenoglio turned to Mo.
"Well, Mortimer? Who is she? Is she worth losing Resa?" Meggie stared at the writer, then chuckled.
"Oh, Fenoglio, think about it for a second, would you?" the scribbler blinked owlishly.
"I'm afraid I don't…" Meggie smiled, sadly.
"Mo would only leave Resa for someone he felt was his soul mate, someone who understands his moods, his needs, and his heart. Think, Fenoglio, who understands Mo better than anyone else in the whole world?"
"Aside from yourself, you mean? The only name that comes to mind is…" Fenoglio trailed off, eyes widening. "No…you aren't…?" his eyes darted to the figure leaning against his doorframe, silhouetted by the clear sky.
"Don't blame me; this is how you wrote me." Dustfinger smiled softly.
TBC
