First, if you have yet to discover the gem that is Brightly Woven, I strongly urge you to read this nifty little book.
Second, I wanted to write a sweet one shot where two things happened: North finally got to see his curse reverse, and he actually says the obvious to Syd ("I love you."). Well, when I started writing, the story took its own shape and I usually never write anything about "T" ratings but this just had to be done. It is what North and Syd would have done, I think, and more appropriate than not.
"Tastes like liquid rust," North spat, wiping his mouth in disgust. He had downed the entire elixir in one try, and now he glared at the empty bottle. "No offense."
"If you want, I could add honey to the next batch for flavor," I said nonchalantly.
North glanced at me from the corner of his eye, an amused grin spreading across his face. He slammed the bottle down on the table, leaning back in his chair while he turned one ungloved hand in front of him.
"How long do you think it will take?"
"Don't expect to see anything soon," I warned, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "If it even works, which it might not, you won't begin to see it take effect for a while. In the meantime though, you need to drink a bottle everyday."
"Bleh!" He made a face. "If I must."
"You must." I left him at the table and returned to my weaving in the other side of the room. I heard his loud footsteps ascend the stairs into the bedroom he had claimed. Though North had managed to keep his new cloak in relatively good shape, only needing a casual mending along the edge, a new idea for a second began to flourish in my mind. It would be just as colorful and even more stunning than my last. Plus, I reasoned, it would be a good idea to have at least one extra talisman, in case he ever needed a spare or I didn't have time to mend the first. In actuality, he'd probably get a new cloak more often than required, when the inspiration struck me of course.
My fingers lost themselves in the familiar motions of threading my loom, my new loom. North had been adamant about building me a new one, and the finished product was nothing short of magnificent. I remember the day he completed it, how his chest swelled with pride, his face beaming when he saw my own enamored expression. I loved it even more than the bracelet that still dangled around my wrist.
The sun sank low in the sky, and soon I'd have to light a few candles to see the threads so I decided to take a break and investigate what kept North so quiet upstairs. I half expected to find him gone, but at the top of the stairs I could just make out his still form sitting on the edge of his bed, both ungloved hands held out before him. I had been so wrapped up in my weaving the last few hours, I wasn't sure how long he's been there or if he had even moved at all.
I stepped lightly into the room, coming around the side and saw his attention was fixated on his hands, his expression incredulous. I looked expectantly at them, not seeing anything except for the usual blackened fingers of the spreading curse. I kneeled down in front of him, taking one hand in mine and flipping it over.
With a more careful examination, I noted there was a subtle difference in his skin. The two fingers I recalled being a pale shade of grey were now pink and flush, and his previously black ring finger lighted to a dull grey from the knuckle down.
My mouth was hanging open. "This is more than I would have ever expected," I muttered, catching North's eye for an instant. His eyes flickered back and forth between his hands and me. I brought his fingers to my lips, kissing them softly.
"Syd," he whispered, coming down on his knees to my level. His eyes held my gaze, filled with so many emotions I could not sort through them all. Hope, fear, joy, love, shock. "Syd, it feels..."
He kissed me, slowly at first, then gradually moving faster, his lips pressing against mine with a new urgency. I matched his speed, letting him pull me toward him and twist me around. He pushed me against the bed, and then stopped abruptly, pulling away.
His hand shook slightly as he unclasped the top button to my dress. Keeping his eyes on me, he paused, searching for any trace of aversion or reluctance to his actions. Instead, I tugged on the string of his cloak, sending the thick wool flowing gracefully to the floor, pooling around his legs. Clearly he understood my message. Wasting no more time, he pulled me onto the bed beneath him, his lips and hands running wild. I saw him like I had never seen him before, exploring his many cuts and burns, old scars and blackened areas of the curse I never knew existed. His gentle glow surrounded me, filling me with his warmth as our bodies said more in those few intimate moment than words could ever repeat.
Afterward, he held me facing him, my cheek resting against his chest. His chin propped up on my head, a finger toying with a stray ringlet.
"Syd?" I felt his bare chest rumble with the the vibrations of his voice.
"Hmm?" I adjusted myself to get a better look at him. He was smiling, his face peaceful and serene. A rare sight I hoped to see more often. My hand found his and our fingers entwined in their usual way.
"You mend magic cloaks, weave talismans, single handedly prevented the war with Auster. Now you can even heal curses, is there anything you can't do?"
I chuckled. "Make magic bracelets, win a drunken brawl, stop you from calling me that ridiculous nickname."
He cradled my cheek in his hand.
"I love you." For a second I thought he would kiss me again, but instead a huge grin appeared over his previously somber expression. "My beautiful, beautiful darling!"
If you you can suggest a better title, I would appreciate it. My brain has gone flat.