I was chatting with fellow fan-fic writer, hopelessromantic4life, which lead to inspiration for this next one-shot. It's going to be a bit dark, kind of AU, and some characters might get a little OOC, just a heads up. …oh, and there's going to be fluff. Always expect fluff. Fluff fluff fluffity fluff :3

Disclaimer: I don't own Ni No Kuni- but I own the game, now I just need a PS3! :D

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It was a cloudy, misty late-afternoon in the Rolling Hills, as a certain prince/thief walked along. Well, such an identity actually changed for him over the past two years, actually. He was an Emperor now- senior ruler of the kingdom of Hamelin. No one really saw it coming- not even Swaine, himself. Yes, he still went by that name he came up with for himself, only being referred to by his birth-name, 'Gascon', by his younger brother (the secondary ruler and Great Sage of Hamelin) or when being addressed by guards or servants, or during meetings with other kingdom rulers just because they deemed it more formal.

The young ruler looked up at the gray skies. One reason he was walking through the Hills rather than his own kingdom was because he and his brother came to Ding Dong Dell, having been invited to a feast held by King Tom Tildrum, as well as to discuss trading matters. Swaine was still getting the hang of those kinds of things- it was often boring, unless the matter was urgent, but really the feline king just wanted to exchange some Ding Dong Dellian goods he believed would benefit other kingdoms.

Once the meeting had ended, Swaine decided to take a long walk. He and Marcassin would be heading home shortly, via Tengri- the dragon having chosen to stay with them for some reason, after Oliver had returned to his own life in Motorville. The ex-thief had figured the dragon would have stayed with Esther, as good as she was with taking care of familiars, Tengri being no different; they even considered returning him to Kublai… but the dragon had stuck with the two princes. Maybe it was because they needed a lift back to Hamelin quick that day, to check to make sure the kingdom was alright after their last adventure with Oliver, or maybe Hamelin's industrial smog was alluring to him and he felt at home. Whatever the reason, they end up taking in the dragon.

The ex-thief looked to the gray skies, as drops of rain landed here and there, just the start of what would soon be a spring shower. He didn't mind though… well, not for more than two minutes at least, as walking around in any kind of weather reminded him of the adventures he had with his friends. So much had changed since he became Emperor- Esther had inherited Rashaad's powers and was training to be a Sage as well. Age was beginning to catch up to Rashaad, Swaine knew, and the Great Sage decided it was time to pass down his powers to his daughter and teach her all he knew- something he had wished he had done when she was younger, yet because of Shadar breaking her heart and taking away her courage, Rashaad never saw the chance, not until after her heart was mended and she helped Oliver with his quest.

Mr. Drippy had returned to the Fairy Grounds, reciting his tale of helping the Pure-Hearted One fulfill his destiny, doing stand-up comedy with his friends Smiley and Surly, or visiting him and Esther, possibly hoping they would be up for another adventure, as the Lord High Lord of the Fairies never was one to settle down so easily. Swaine was often annoyed by his visits, both of them making smart remarks with each other, often ending in a good laugh or leading to the Emperor to tell him to take a hike as he was busy. "Oi, mun, I know ya royals got it tough, but ye can't forget youer ol' friends- no matter how many times ye argue wit' 'em, they'll always come round," the fairy had once stated, and it was the only thing the Emperor agreed with him on. Deep down, Swaine was (somewhat) glad that Mr. Drippy had enough time to visit, as he was basically part of the group Oliver had brought together, after showing the boy a way to their world the first time.

As for the young wizard himself, Swaine saw less of him as months went by. He would visit the Otherworld as often as he could, which proved difficult with school in the way, and it would only be for short visits as he knew everyone was busy- though they always made time for their Pure-Hearted One. But as time went on, the young wizard came around less and less… from coming by at least twice a week, to only coming by every few weeks, then two months…

I wonder what he's up to in that world of his, Swaine thought as he looked up at the sky, walking along the edge of the Deep Dark Woods. He wasn't afraid of running into any creatures on his walk- actually, due to the aura of his experience having increased since meeting Oliver, and the training he and Marcassin would do in their spare time, creatures avoided him. His concern was on the wizard anyway- in the past, he would be a little nonchalant, knowing Oliver was powerful enough to handle himself, but he had developed an instinct that caused him to make sure he was alright. It was part of being an older brother, he guessed- he always looked out for Marcassin when they were little, despite his little brother was quite powerful even for someone so young, and after it took him 15 years to return to the castle after having run away, such an instinct had spread to Oliver, as if the young wizard was somehow a second chance for him to redeem himself. Now, he couldn't help but wonder if his friend was alright…

There came a rustling sound from the bushes, and the Emperor paused, reaching for his gun, which he carried with him at all times. He was always prepared for a fight- it was how he grew up on his own, after all. He slowly approached the bushes, looking around to make sure he wasn't caught off-guard in case this was a distraction. Something fell at his feet and he took aim with his gun, preparing to shoot whatever creature was in front of him…

But, it wasn't a creature. It was a figure wearing a ragged, torn outfit, messy hair that covered their face as they stood on their hands and knees, having a large bag strapped to their back, and was clutching a familiar wand and book…

Swaine pocketed his gun, slowly stepping forth, nervous about seeing who this person was. He actually knew who it was, and was scared of being right. When they looked up at him… oh, how he wished he was wrong, seeing the dull, red-rimmed eyes that once shined with hope; the pale face that had once been full of color, full of life… the bruise that took residence at the side of it. Through the torn fabrics of the wardrobe, Swaine could make out more bruises…

"Oliver?" He gasped at last, kneeling beside his friend, who just seemed to be staring off into space.

The young wizard blinked several times, as if he were waking from a dream. "Huh?! Swaine?" he stammered, as if he were seeing a ghost.

"What happened? Did you get into a fight or something?" Swaine looked around, in case some fierce creature was stalking the wizard. When his friend didn't reply, he looked down at him, seeing the wizard was still just looking at him. "What is it? 'Something wrong?" He looked over his shoulder, to make sure something was standing behind him. There wasn't.

Oliver let out a relieved sigh, beginning to tremble. "Thank God…" he whispered. His arms gave out on supporting him, and he sprawled across the ground, his bag falling beside him.

"Oliver? Oliver!" Swaine quickly sat him up, seeing that his friend was still breathing… and seeing what appeared to be red hand-prints on his neck…

"Gascon! Where are you?" a voice called out from the gates of Ding Dong Dell, just a few feet away. Swaine looked up to see Marcassin stepping out, possibly having been searching for him, after wrapping up a long conversation with King Tom.

"Marcassin! Over here, come quick!" Swaine waved him over.

Marcassin ran over, gasping when he saw Oliver… and the state he was in. "What happened to Oliver?"

Swaine looked down at Oliver- it looked as if hurt for him to even breathe. "I don't know… Do you have enough magic to heal him?"

Marcassin gave a nod, using a Healing Touch on their wizard friend, erasing half of his bruises. The hand-prints around his neck still remained, yet their wizard friend seemed to relax, breathing steadier, but remained passed out. It reminded Swaine of the first time they encountered the demon, Vilehart, who had cursed Oliver with a great weight of despair, which kept him in a coma for days. The Emperor prayed to God this wasn't a repeat of that event.

"Come, we'll return to King Tom's Castle- we can stay overnight while Oliver rests," Marcassin said, picking up Oliver's bag, while Swaine carried the wizard.

They walked through the gates of the city, heading towards the castle, just as the rain began to downpour. But Swaine paid it no heed- his focus was on Oliver… around those hand-prints around his neck. Who's done this to you? He wondered, hoping to receive an answer soon.

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King Tom allowed them to stay, welcoming them with open-arms, as well as stunned to see the state Oliver was in. "This couldn't be the same hero who saved our world from destruction! What has become of him?" he gasped.

"We don't know, but he needs proper treatment," Swaine answered.

"One would agree so! A servant shall escort thee to our best guest-rooms, while one sends a guard for healing tonics,"

"Thank you, your Meowjesty," Marcassin said, humbly.

A servant led the two princes down the hall, showing them to a couple rooms. Swaine lied Oliver down on the bed- which looked more like a giant cat-bed but with pillows and a large blanket- sitting beside him while Marcassin stood by. The young sage knew this wasn't a curse or result of a fierce battle… no, something had happened before Oliver arrived, he believed, and wish he was psychic so he could figure out exactly what, and try to fix it.

The young wizard groaned, slowly coming to. "Uhn… where am I?" he said, his voice raspy as if he had a sore throat.

"It's alright, you're in Ding Dong Dell," Swaine said to him. "Are you alright?"

It was a dumb question, as Oliver slowly shut his eyes, as if keeping them open drained his strength. "I… I think so… what happened?"

Swaine arched an eyebrow- did his friend forget about stumbling out in front of him? "You tell us! You passed out after running in front of me,"

Marcassin stepped up, gently clearing his throat. "Gascon, it would be best if we left Oliver to rest, until he's able to tell us everything," he said.

Swaine sighed. "Right…" he turned to Oliver. "You heard him, Oliver- rest up until your brain is back in gear," he stood up, preparing to walk out of the room with Marcassin…

"No!"

There was a grip on his wrist just then, and he looked down, seeing the young wizard was gripping his sleeve, once again trembling. "Oliver…?" Marcassin gasped, never seeing his friend so afraid.

"Please… don't leave me alone…" Oliver whimpered quietly.

Swaine looked down at him, twice as shocked as he was before. This wasn't like the wizard- the one who had faced monstrous beasts and every kind of enemy, took out the Dark Djinn and restored the White Witch to her former glory, and was still brave enough to wander the wilderness! What's happened to him? The Emperor wondered once more. Looking at him, his concern continued to increase- how small his friend appeared, being 15 now yet looking as if he hadn't aged a bit, as if who-or-whatever gave him those bruises also caused a stunt in his growth as well.

"Oliver… what's wrong?" Marcassin asked quietly, kneeling down in front of him. "What exactly happened?"

Oliver sniffled. "I… I ran away… to come home… to get away from him…" he tried to explain, his voice rapid and shaking.

"Slow down now," Swaine said, sitting down next to him once more, allowing the wizard to hang on to his sleeve. "Start at the beginning, tell us everything you can remember,"

Oliver nodded, wincing a bit. "It… it started a year after I returned… to Motorville…"

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~Three Days Earlier~

Oliver quietly hurried around the room, gathering everything he wanted to pack and take with him to the Otherworld in a bag- guilders he had saved up, snacks he had stashed away under his bed, his locket he used when collecting pieces of heart… and a picture of him and his mother, which he always kept hidden in his dresser, as he didn't want anything to happen to it. Next to it was the pendant she had given to him- he didn't want that broken.

There were footsteps outside the door, and he froze. The door didn't have a lock… it used to, but had been taken off a long time ago. Oliver held his breath, wishing he could use a spell to keep it sealed… but after last time, he dared not to even pull out Astra from under his bed, not wanting his wand to get broken in half, which had nearly happened before.

The footsteps went past his door, and he sighed with relief, waiting a minute before quietly packing again.

It had been a mistake to stay in Motorville, after he had decided to return and move on with his life two years ago. No one had ever understood him anyway- perhaps Myrtle did a little, but she was always working so hard at the Milk Bar that she hardly hung out with him anymore; his bond with Phillip soon faded away, as his friend only invited him over to check out a new car he had worked on, and he was always poking fun at Oliver anyway; Miss Leila would stop by once in a while to see how he was doing, but that was it. After realizing this after the first two months, Oliver began to wonder what the point was in coming back.

The only ones who gave him any notice were a few neighbors, who had called social services about Oliver living alone throughout the first year of his orphan-hood… and soon he was being moved into a foster-family. Out of town. Miles away. Yeah, there was barely a point in staying in Motorville than the Otherworld.

The family seemed nice enough, at first. The mother had to work late shifts at a diner in the evenings, and the father was a construction worker. They could never conceive a child, so taking in Oliver was a blessing for them.

Well, at least for the mother.

The father, however, grew to dislike Oliver as time went by.

Once in a while, Oliver would return to the Otherworld. He told his friends about how he was living with a new family now, and was still getting settled so he wouldn't be visiting as often. He always went there on weekends or during school breaks, staying in the world from 2 to nearly 5 hours a day…

That's when the father showed his temperamental side. Whenever Oliver came home late, he would demand where he went. The first time, Oliver had to come up with a good alibi, claiming he was just walking around town. The mother believed him, before heading off to work… leaving him behind with the father, who he discovered had been drinking heavily…

Then came the beatings. At first it was nothing more than a belt to the rear, the man scolding him for taking off and returning so late, despite many other young teens stayed out late… but then it grew to smacks across the face every time Oliver hesitated to answer, a kick to the shins if he wasn't home from school early enough… or a punch to the face if he was caught with his wand, which the man had nearly broken if his wife didn't come home.

Apparently, he despised wizardry and witchcraft, claiming he wasn't going to house some 'demonic child', no matter how many times Oliver claimed it was nothing like that. The wife just told him to let Oliver enjoy his 'hobby', and that if he got brutal again, she would take Oliver and leave him behind. He stopped his abuse for the next several months.

One night, she got into a car-wreck.

That same night, the man had slammed Oliver against the wall in his bedroom, finding his Wizard's Companion and ripping several pages out, then proceeded to whip Oliver with his belt… this time on the back. He didn't stop until the officers arrived, telling him the bad news about his wife. Afterwards, Oliver used the 'Rejuvenate' spell to fix his book, his tears hitting the pages.

Oliver grieved deeply, as it was the second time he had lost a mother… only this time, he was left with an abusive foster-father, who blamed him for her death. He wanted to call the police, to report the man… but what would happen to him? He would probably be sent to another foster-family… but he didn't want another family. No, trying to find a new family in this world seemed hopeless- no one understood him here.

He had friends in the Otherworld… they were the closest thing to a family he ever had- no, they weren't close. They were family. He regretted not telling them about the situation… but he didn't want to impose on them, since they were all busy with their own matters. Plus, as long as he could keep returning to their world, he knew he could manage, perhaps even find a way to mend the foster-father's heart, see if he had a soul-mate anywhere…

But he never got the chance, as his visits were always shortened, and he had to be cautious, often waiting a few days before going there again… and soon days turned into months, as he had to keep his magical items well-hidden.

After losing another mother and unable to bear the thought of living with the abusive foster-father any longer, Oliver came to the decision he wished he had made two years ago: Go to the Otherworld and never come back.

He started packing while the foster-father was downstairs, watching television while drinking a few beers, as he always did when he got off work.

It had been two hours, and the sun was beginning to go down. Oliver, once making sure he had everything, reached under the bed and retrieved Astra, brushing the dust off, then prepared to cast Gateway.

The door burst open, and the man charged in, obviously in a drunken state. Once he saw the bag, book, and wand, he lunged at Oliver, grabbing him by the neck, beginning to strangle him…

Something powerful knocked him back, and Oliver looked down at his familiar, Mitey. He had once vowed to never use magic unless needed in his world… but this was an exception! The man couldn't see the familiar, so every beating the familiar gave to him caught him off guard…

Then his eyes burned into Oliver's, and he shouted at him, accusing him of using voodoo-witchcraft, then picked up a chair and hurled it at Oliver-

Everything went black… and he saw his mother's face. "Don't worry, Oliver… everything will be alright. He won't hurt you anymore," she said to him in the dream, the pendant she had given him glowing around his neck, unleashing a mighty light…

Once he came to, he saw all his possessions were untouched- and saw the foster-father slumped against the wall, unconscious. He sat up, groaning, and tried to use Healing Touch… but didn't have enough magic. Only enough for Gateway, which he cast quick, summoning Mitey back as the familiar was just sitting on his bag, contently eating one of the snacks he packed.

He arrived in the Rolling Hills, seeing Ding Dong Dell off in the distance. He made his way there…

The trek was tough and took three days, and by that time he was out of supplies. For some reason, creatures kept running at him, despite his experience-aura… though later he understood why. He felt weak after what happened back in his old world… and with each step, he continued to feel weak, but pressed on, not resting until he found one of his friends. He went through the Deep Dark Woods, tripping over a rock and falling in the creek; a few creatures ran after him, some catching up to him and he quickly summoned Mitey to fend them off.

He decided to head to Old Father Oak- it was the only area where he could be safe and rest… but he was growing weary due to lack of sleep and running from creatures when Mitey grew too tired to keep fighting when battles grew too long. He could hear creatures everywhere… he even thought he heard his foster-father, storming through the bushes…

He didn't know where he was going- he just felt he needed to run.

He tripped, landing outside the edge of the woods. He breathed hard, trying to clear his head, wincing…

Then he heard someone say his name. He turned, startled at first… but once he saw Swaine, he relaxed… but couldn't bring himself to let his guard down, believing this could be a hallucination, and he only stared, watching as his royal friend looked around for signs of any danger, asking if he was alright… Finally, he realized his friend really was there. His vision began to grow dark, and he passed out, weariness overcoming him.

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~Present~

Marcassin glanced at his older brother. Despite his calm expression, he noticed fury burning in his eyes. "You should have told us… I would have come back with you and kicked that bastard's ass!" Swaine responded after Oliver finished. His harsh tone made Oliver flinch, and the Emperor sighed. "Sorry, it's just…"

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Marcassin asked, calmly finishing the sentence.

"I knew you were all busy… I didn't think it would last… my foster-mom stopped him… and I thought he was broken-hearted… but then, after what happened to her… I just couldn't take it anymore," Oliver replied, tears beginning to roll down his face.

"Oliver, no matter how busy we are, if you're in trouble we'll put aside everything to help you!"

"Yeah, especially since you helped us out a great deal, before." Swaine added, once again looking at his neck. "We could have prevented him from hurting you any further,"

"You said you saw your mother in a vision as well, involving the pendant, and he was unconscious when you came to," Marcassin looked at Oliver's pendant. "Perhaps it has an enchantment on it to protect whenever you wear it,"

Oliver looked down at the pendant- he had put it on the night he started packing. Come to think of it, he noticed a glow from it, before Mitey burst out to defend him. He sighed, laying his head back, wincing. "I'm sorry…" he whispered. He felt a hand stroking his head, brushing the bangs out of his face, and looked up at Swaine.

"It's alright now," the ex-thief replied quietly, giving him a reassuring smile, followed by a humorous grin. "Just be sure to call on us next time you're in a tough spot, alright? It's been a while since I've had a good fight,"

Oliver smiled back, though it quickly faded. Now that he had ran away to the Otherworld… where was he to go? He could just be a drifter, travel from one town to the next, keep everything in check and make sure all was well, like he used to- like he loved to do. Yet he needed a stable home to return to after travelling- he couldn't just keep sleeping at a Cat's Cradle or imposing on friends…

Marcassin lied a hand on his shoulder. "We'll stick around for tonight, Oliver. You've been through quite a lot." He said.

There was a knock at the door and a guard came in with the healing tonics, plus some food. Marcassin thanked him, then gave Oliver a Sage's Secret tonic, as well as a sandwich to fill his stomach. Afterwards, they decided to turn in, Marcassin going over to the next room to grab some extra pillows and blankets. Oliver had curled up tight, immediately falling back to sleep. Swaine remained at his side, looking at him…

Why hadn't he figured out sooner that the wizard was in trouble, after he stopped coming by for weeks, let alone months?! Granted, he was busy ruling a kingdom- but he still had plenty of time to wonder, 'Gee, I wonder where Oliver is? I haven't seen him in a while- I hope no bastard is choking the life out of him!'

He sighed heavily. Once again, a loved one needed him, yet he was nowhere around to help… True, Oliver hadn't told him, figuring things would work out in the end, but Swaine felt he should have figured it out first and got him to admit it! What happened to the instinct he had developed two years ago, thanks to this kid?

Marcassin came back in, handing Swaine an extra pillow and lying an extra blanket around Oliver, sitting down in a chair by the bed. "Do you think he'll be alright?" the Sage asked.

Of course! This is Oliver we're talking about- he always bounces back! Swaine wanted to state… yet couldn't bring himself to be optimistic. Oliver, a friend who had been like a second little brother to him, had been hurt, both emotionally and physically, and was now back in a world where there was twice as much danger- yes, it was the kind of danger he was able to face… but he had faced it because of his mother, who gave him reason to fight. But that quest was over, and it didn't change the fact that the kid was an orphan…

Just like two certain princes.

"Yeah… I'm sure once we take him back to Hamelin, he'll be okay," Swaine whispered, mostly to himself.

"Take him back to Hamelin?" Marcassin repeated.

Swaine looked at his brother. "Well, it would make sense, wouldn't it? He needs somewhere to stay, until he can make a place of his own."

The Sage looked at his older brother, seeing something in his eyes- a gaze of guilt and concern, the same kind he had seen when they had been reunited after 15 years and had seen how heart-broken he had been. He understood why the Emperor would request Oliver to reside with them- he could tell the ex-thief had some sort of brotherly-bond with the wizard, to which the Sage didn't mind as it helped the two princes in the past come together again. Not to mention the trauma their friend had been through- just when he was beginning to move on from his mother's death, he had to be taken out of his hometown to live with a brutal man and lose a foster-mother, going through the wilderness along for 3 days with hardly any magic or weapons to defend himself with, aside from his familiars.

"Indeed, he does." Marcassin agreed. "You do realize that he may turn down our proposal though, don't you? He doesn't want to impose on us, he said…"

"It's not imposing if we invite him, is it? And until he's got his health built back up and is back to his old self, I don't want him going at it alone," Swaine said. "I mean, it's not that easy- I know from experience… and I was a tough kid!"

"I seem to remember him saying the same thing about you, long ago,"

Swaine paused, giving his brother a glance. He did seem to remember sticking around with Oliver, Esther, and Mr. Drippy during their quest to take down Shadar, as well as afterwards. One reason he stuck around with them was because he felt he owed it to them for helping the two princes out, as well as believed he could prove he was useful and help make something out of himself, as he intended when he first ran away from home. Sometimes, however, he would try to get a 'break' from the kids when they were just stopping in a town for a rest, often sneaking off… but Oliver always seemed to track him down, claiming he should stick closer, in case of an attack. Like the wizard was looking out for him, instead of vice-versa.

Looking at Oliver now, there was an ache in Swaine's heart, as if he felt irresponsible for letting his friend fall into such a condition. This time, I'll keep an eye on him- and make sure no bastard lies a hand on him without dying in regret! He thought.

Marcassin cleared his throat. "It's getting late, we should turn in." he said.

"Right, you can go lie down in the next room. I'll stay in here, in case he wakes up." Swaine answered.

The Sage didn't question it, nodding his head in understanding. "We'll head out on Tengri first thing in the morning, when Oliver is awake." He looked at the wizard, smiling. "I know our dragon will be happy to see his old master again,"

Swaine yawned, lying down. "And we'll someone can keep that blasted fairy busy whenever he visits,"

Marcassin chuckled, heading to his room, feeling a little enthusiastic about having another brother living in the castle with them.

Unbeknownst to them, the young wizard had overheard their conversation, and smiled in his sleep. He didn't want them to go through all the trouble, yet he also knew Swaine wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. As the ex-thief lied down in the chair by his bed, Oliver opened one eye, seeing him drift to sleep, and couldn't help but smile.

Well, I always wanted a brother, Oliver thought, and had to suppress a chuckle. He then sighed, drifting back to sleep. Thanks, Swaine…

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~Months Later~

Swaine stood by the Milk Fountains in Al-Mamoon, Mr. Drippy next to him, both of them watching as Oliver walked up the street, holding hands with Esther, both of them smiling at each other. "Oi, he's love-sick alright," the Lord High Lord of the Fairies commented, while Swaine only chuckled, shaking his head.

After living in the Porcine Palace for a week, the young wizard had re-developed a boost in his morale and immediately wanted to travel the world and see all that had changed- Swaine, seeing an opportunity, decided to tag along for old time's sake, both of them promising Marcassin they would return before the week was out (the Sage later joking that he wanted to travel with Oliver next time). They had visited Al-Mamoon first to see how Esther was doing in her Sage training. Oliver decided to show her a few simple spells to help her practice in her Sage training… pretty soon he was showing her more spells, both of them practicing together. The Emperor immediately noticed a spark between them, and had a feeling the wizard would be visiting Al-Mamoon quite often.

"Hey, Oliver! We gotta get going!" Swaine called to them. "We need to get back to the palace before Marcassin puts my name on the 'Missing Person's' list again!"

Oliver laughed, then turned to Esther. "I'll see you later," he said to her.

"Alright, have a safe trip- tell your brother I said hi!" Esther said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before running to the babana stand to tell her father about the newest spell Oliver taught her.

"Youe're quite th' charmer, en't ya?" Mr. Drippy joked to Oliver.

"Of course- I taught him everything I know," Swaine remarked.

"Ah- and he managed to do the opposite! Tidy, Ollie-boy!"

Swaine gave the fairy a glare while Oliver chuckled. "C'mon, Swaine. Lets go home," he said, using Fast Travel to take them back to the palace.

It felt good, being back where he belonged.

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A/N: YES! I threw in an Esthiver (OliverxEsther) scene in the end right there! Me and hopelessromantic4life both agreed they make a great couple, and- as a bonus treat for her inspiration for this 10-page one-shot- I threw in a scene like that just for her. (I hope you liked! …the rest of you, don't shoot me if you don't like it). OH, and yay! Marcassin managed to partake in the moment as well! (about time, huh?)

Please review, don't flame, adios.