Hi everyone! I hope all of you are healthy and safe amidst all of what's going on in the world right now. Since classes are now online, I've been buried in last-minute coursework, so that's why I've been radio silent for a little while.
I have good news though! I've been working on a DQB2 ficlet that I think you guys might enjoy. I might post it under these oneshots or post it as a separate fic (it's actually so long that it might be better to have it be its own story) but either way, you guys will def have it soon. And yes, it will be centered around Malroth and the builder ;)
Still working through requests too, so if you've requested something and haven't seen it yet, don't worry—I have a list and I've checked it twice, it'll be out no matter if you've been naughty or nice ;P
A very special thank you to the anons who recently reviewed (Bookwyrm, Anonymous, and Guest)! I hope these stories make you smile! :D
For a tough guy, Malroth has an interesting weakness aside from starfish.
Home is Where the Builder is
"Whoa!" Malroth was grinning ear to ear as he looked at the tall, gorgeous structure before him. "Is this... Is this really my house? Did you really build this for me?!"
"Yes sir-ee, it is." The Builder leaned onto the hilt of her mallet, her smile just as brilliant and filled with pride at her creation. "It took me a few days to come up with the layout, but you've got a pretty swanky bathroom, living room, and bedroom inside, and there should be a chest there for you to keep snacks in if you don't feel like heading to Lillian's all the time. Lots of gold went into this place. Oh, and you've got your very own nameplate next to the door, so it's officially your house."
"I love it!" They high-fived and he eagerly entered the house to have a look around. The ambiance was cool, just as he'd requested, and to Malroth's delight, the place was like a mini-palace. It was comprised mostly of castle wall blocks, giving it that royal feel, and the flooring was, as the Builder had said, made of pure gold. Each tile sparkled underneath the light of the candelabras, and the carpeting underneath his boots reminded him of velvet.
The back room, which he quickly deduced to be the bedroom, held a comfy-looking bed complete with plush blankets and fluffy pillows that Malroth couldn't wait to dive onto. There was a brand new set of dumbbells for him to use—she knew him so well—and he was pleased to find a fancy-looking couch sitting across from a fireplace. Along with his very own table, chairs, a planted gladiolus (how did she know that was his favorite flower? She was seriously awesome),
"You've really outdone yourself," he commented, eyes wide with wonder. "You sure you don't want this place for yourself?"
"It's all yours. Besides, mine is already done! We're officially neighbors!" The Builder stretched her arms above her head. "I'm gonna head to Lillian's and grab some dinner. Do you want to join me?"
"Actually, do you mind if I hang back? I could use a shower."
She smiled. "Not at all! Enjoy that shower; I'll see you later, okay?"
Malroth was barely able to nod, too engrossed in checking out his new home.
The next time the Builder saw her best friend, it was the very next evening and Malroth didn't look as happy as he initially had upon seeing his new house.
She'd tried to catch him in the morning and ask how his first night in his new home had been, but she hadn't been able to find him. Splodger and Captain Whitebones claimed they'd seen him sulking off towards Cerulean Steppe, though they had no idea why he was going there. The Builder had started to head in the direction of the snowy portion of the Isle when Splodger stopped her.
"I don't think it'd be a goo idea to goo after him," the slime wobbled. "He seems to be in a bad mood. Maybe you should let him have some alone slime."
The blonde hesitated, but ultimately decided Splodger was right. Maybe if Malroth was annoyed, it was best to give him space. He knew that if he needed to, he could talk to her; they'd established that after the events of Malhalla. He was well aware that the Builder was not only willing to be a listening ear, she'd help him as best as she could, and honestly, everyone had days where they woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Perhaps Malroth's sour mood was due to simply waking up grumpy.
The Builder passed the day by creating things per usual. Hellen was touched by the Builder's attempt to create a place where the Children of Hargon could still pay tribute to their former faith if they wished, and Griswold was ecstatic to find she'd built him his very own creepy conservatory, where he could continue studying the flora of Malhalla. The Builder also found time to patch up Shane's abandoned ship, gifting it to Captain Whitebones so he could take to the seas again, to which the skeleton soldier pulled her into a bone-crushing hug and thanked her over and over (could skeletons cry? Because she was pretty sure his eye sockets were full of tears at the sight of his brand new ship).
After grabbing dinner at Lillian's and chatting with the other residents of Green Gardens, the Builder retired to her home and went through her evening routine of showering, putting on her pajamas, and brushing out her hair. Once she was ready, she turned off the lantern on her nightstand and snuggled under the covers of her bed, practically falling asleep the second her head hit the pillow. A long day of building always made for an easy time getting to sleep.
It was the middle of the night when the Builder was coaxed back into the waking world by a knocking sound. Most of her room was enveloped in inky darkness, thin slivers of moonlight peeking in past the curtains she'd put up a few nights ago. Malroth's home was grand and luxurious, almost as luxurious as Lulu's (the pinkette, of course, had more ambitious demands), but the Builder's was simple and rather small. It resembled more of a log cabin, kind of like the ones she'd built for Perry and Rosie. She could build herself a castle if she wanted, but she preferred cozy simplicity. That was all her family had been able to afford back when she'd lived in Cantlin, after all.
Another knock sounded at her door. She'd been teetering between consciousness and unconsciousness, her mind fuzzy with dreams yet also not quite delving into REM sleep. The blonde sat up at the third, slightly quieter knock, and yawned. She briefly wondered who could be up at this hour; Scarlet Sands always hosted parties that went on until the wee hours of morning, but no one in Green Gardens or Cerulean Steppe stayed up past ten o'clock. Judging by the moon's position outside, it had to be heading for one in the morning.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and made her way to the door, careful not to trip over the boots she'd lazily kicked off earlier. Upon opening her door, she was surprised to find a familiar spiky-haired young man standing in front of her. He looked very much awake and very much annoyed, but as soon as his gaze lifted to hers, his expression softened. Malroth's ruby-red eyes probably would have terrified other people, especially at this time of night since they had a certain glow to them, but the Builder thought they looked rather pretty in the moonlight.
"Hey," he greeted, quickly giving her a once-over. "Were you sleeping? I'm sorry if I woke you up."
"No, no, I wasn't," she lied, barely able to suppress the traitorous yawn that threatened to escape her. "What's up?"
He blinked and looked away, earning the Builder's curiosity. She'd never known her best friend to be shy or meek; what could be causing him to feel this way now?
"I, uh..." He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "I was just wondering... Do you have a spare bed or something that I can sleep on?"
At that, it was the Builder's turn to blink. "A spare bed?"
"Yeah. Or actually, can I just sleep on the floor? At this point, I don't care."
"Is something wrong with the bed I made you?"
"No, nothing like that." He wouldn't stop fidgeting, as if he was very uncomfortable with what he was trying to ask. "It's just, uh... I can't sleep."
"Oh! Is the mattress too firm or too soft? If so, I can make a different one."
"There's nothing wrong with what you made for me, it's just..." Malroth sighed in frustration. "I don't know how to say it. It's kind of embarrassing."
She stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. "Why don't we talk inside then? We'll have more privacy that way."
He hesitated, then obliged her. As the Builder closed the door behind them, he took the opportunity to take in his new surroundings. Since she'd tossed up her own house, he hadn't really been able to see much of the interior. It was definitely simplistic, with the only luxuries being a plush bed and a sofa; everything else was made of wood, mirroring the houses she'd built on Furrowfield. It suited her; she didn't strike him as the type to shower herself in diamonds and gold.
"Wow... This is your house, right?"
"Yep! Just finished it a few days ago."
"It's nice. Very cozy." Malroth almost seemed sad, but maybe it was just her imagination.
"Thanks." She motioned to the couch. "So, are we gonna talk about my house or are we gonna talk about why you can't sleep?"
"Right. Sorry." Malroth sat down, still fiddling with his hands. "Okay, um... I dunno how to say this without sounding like a total wimp."
"You know I don't judge, so fire away." What could possibly have Malroth uncomfortable? Was Hargon somehow messing with his mind again? Was that even possible after they'd defeated the evil version of Malroth and the unholy High Priest? Or was he having nightmares again, because sometimes he did have some pretty horrific dreams where—
Malroth mumbled something too quickly for her to make out.
"What was that?"
He mumbled it again. The Builder raised an eyebrow.
"Mal, if you want me to help you, you're going to have to speak up—"
"I said I can't sleep without you next to me!" he barked. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were slightly red with embarrassment. "There, happy?"
The Builder stared dumbly at him for a moment before she cocked her head to the side. "You can't sleep without me next to you?"
"Look, I don't know why, but I can't catch a wink of sleep when you're not around," he huffed, folding his arms across his chest as he looked away. "Don't get me wrong, I love the house you made for me, it's perfect, right down to every last detail, but it... It doesn't feel like home when... when you're not there."
His eyes were trained on a bookcase that sat just beneath a window looking out over the fields. He refused to look at her, but if he had, he would've seen the blush that painted her cheeks.
"I know it sounds lame," Malroth continued. "But I'm pretty sure that's the issue. I... I don't like being away from you, alright? I'm not clingy and you know I'm not touchy-feely, but it feels weird to not sleep next to you every night when we used to sleep side-by-side all the time."
"Are you worried something might happen to me if you're not around?" she asked. Malroth was her self-proclaimed bodyguard, so it made sense that even in times of peace, he'd still unconsciously try to look after her.
"No, I mean—I-I don't know, maybe." He began drumming his claw-like fingernails against the table's surface. "We haven't had an attack from Hargon's forces since we defeated him, and we've got more than enough people to protect this island."
When he thought about it, his words weren't entirely truthful; yes, they had more than enough capable fighters guarding the Isle of Awakening, but none of them could ever dream of possessing the strength he had. If anyone else tried to guard the Builder, he'd be on-edge the entire time; he preferred protecting her himself, that way, he knew for certain she'd be safe. But that was mushy and lame, wasn't it? Malroth didn't do mushy and lame. "Look, I-I don't know how to properly explain it. All I know is that when you're next to me, I can sleep, but when you're not, sleep evades me."
There were a few heartbeats of silence. Malroth still refused to meet her eyes, though he did glance up at her face a few times. She wasn't looking at him with amusement, which was good considering he wasn't sure how he'd feel if she laughed at him. Her expression was, for once, unreadable, and he didn't know how to feel about that.
"You could spend the night here," she offered finally, breaking the semi-awkward silence. "I don't have a spare bed, but mine is big enough for the both of us. Is that okay, or do you want me to whip up a spare bed real quick?"
"No, that's fine." He sighed and ran a hand over his face tiredly. "As long as I can, uh... As long as I can sleep next to you, I should be fine. I have to get up early because I promised Anessa I'd help her train a few new soldiers, and I'll be useless to them if I'm exhausted."
"Then it's settled: you're more than welcome to bunk in with me." A cheerful smile lit up her face. "It'll be like old times!"
Malroth nodded, but his expression still appeared somewhat troubled. Her smile dimmed somewhat.
"Seriously, if you're not comfortable sharing a bed with me, I don't mind whipping up a spare. It'll take me, like, five minutes, tops."
"It's not that," he replied, and truthfully, she wasn't the worst person in the world to sleep beside. Actually, if he was being one-hundred percent honest, he secretly liked waking up next to her, but she didn't need to know that. "It's the fact that this kind of thing shouldn't be a thing."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't just crash at your pad all the time."
She giggled softly. "Why not? It'll be like having a whole bunch of sleepovers. I can even sleep at your house once in a while if you ever want to change things up. I can fall asleep pretty much anywhere."
"I don't wanna get on your nerves," he elaborated. "And I know that sooner or later, we'll get annoyed with each other. The last time we had a fight, it was pretty ugly."
"The last time we had a fight, it was because we had a traitor working against us. Moonbrooke was..." At the memory of Warwick's insistence that oh yes, a jail cell was completely necessary, and yes, Malroth was such a danger, the blonde shook her head, exhaling through her nose. She reminded herself that all of that was in the past, it didn't matter now. "Anyway, my point is that I don't mind if you don't mind. My house is always open if you want to sleep here. I don't think I'd mind having you around a lot; you're the one person who never gets on my nerves."
He nodded slowly. That was a fair answer. "What about the house you built for me?"
"What about it?"
Malroth expected her to be upset. "You spent so much time on it and you put all that work into it. Aren't you mad at me for not being able to sleep there?"
"Not really." She shrugged. "When I make stuff for people, it's up to them if they decide to make use of it. Besides, I know you're not doing it to be spiteful, and houses can be used for more than just a place to rest your head; you can use it to have some quiet time, work out, whatever you want. It's completely up to you how you decide to use it."
The destructive young man was about to ask if she was really okay with him bunking in with her when a yawn escaped him. The blonde smiled.
"We can continue discussing all of this tomorrow, but for now, maybe we should hit the hay. You have to get up early and I'm running on maybe three hours of sleep as it is." Without waiting for his response, she took his hand and led him towards her bed. Upon settling under the covers, Malroth found that her bed was just as comfortable as his own, and with her right by his side like she'd always been, his eyelids finally felt heavy. He always felt more at ease around her. He had no idea why, but just knowing she was right there beside him made him feel at peace.
"Good night, Mal," was the last thing he heard before he heard before he fell asleep. "See you in the morning."
The next morning, Malroth woke up much earlier than the Builder did, and by the time she finally cracked open her eyes, he was long gone. She had no idea when he'd be back, but he'd been kind enough to make his side of the bed.
As she began to go through her morning routine of getting ready for the day, she thought about their late-night conversation. The blonde was still surprised at Malroth's confession that he didn't like sleeping without her. It wasn't something that bothered her—truth be told, she thought it was adorable that he preferred sleeping next to her. She did wonder, however, if this sleeping habit meant something more: was this an indicator that maybe he was crushing on her? Or was it just simple habit? Maybe Malroth didn't like change, maybe he'd gotten so used to a specific routine (i.e. sleeping beside, and protecting, the Builder) that any changes made him feel out of sorts.
He was a man of many surprises, it seemed, yet the more she thought about it, the more she realized his sleeping preference wasn't a surprise at all. Throughout their adventures, the signs had been there all along: how many times had she gone to bed alone, only to wake up and see Malroth snoring away beside her? Whenever she went to bed, he followed shortly after. There had been multiple occasions when the Builder had gone to bed early, her mind and body exhausted from building without taking a break, and no more than she fell onto her bed, Malroth would be busting into the room, shaking off his boots and immediately getting into the bed next to hers (which, now that she thought about it, was kind of funny). No matter what bed she chose, he always chose the one directly beside her, and there were times when, if Malroth didn't grab the bed next to hers, he'd be in a grumpy mood the following morning.
The Builder could have face-palmed; absolutely none of this was a surprise, she just hadn't been able to really think about it before.
Exhibit One: Fascinating Finds on Furrowfield
The Builder supposed she could understand it. After all, she was the first person Malroth had ever spoken to (that he remembered, anyway). She was the first person to wake up after the shipwreck and she was the first person to give him a gift. Maybe he just felt so comfortable around her that he preferred sleeping close to her, of all people.
Every night, he and Britney would stay up late to fend off evil spirits looking to reap souls. The Builder sometimes stayed up with them and helped as best she could, but other times, she was too worn out to do much except drag herself to the small agricultural bedroom she'd made for the farmers. There, on the uncomfortable straw beds, she'd toe off her boots, make herself as comfortable as she could manage, and then she'd pass out until early the next morning, when Rosie and the others would begin their day. Yet, the Builder noticed that no matter what time she decided to hit the hay (pun intended), a certain someone always managed to curl up beside her.
That someone was, of course, Malroth.
Sometimes, without even thinking about it, she'd choose a straw bed next to one of the farmers, yet by morning, the person she'd fallen asleep next to would not be beside her as she'd expected; Malroth would be right there as if he'd been there to begin with. Whoever had been lying beside her would mysteriously wake up in another bed, unbothered and ready to start the day all the same. Every morning, without fail, Malroth would wake up beside her, stretch his limbs, and grin toothily while greeting her with a "good morning."
She wasn't sure what to make of this, but she didn't pay too much attention to it; she had bigger things to worry about and if Malroth preferred sleeping beside her, that was fine. He didn't snore in her ear like Lulu had on their first night as castaways on the Isle of Awakening, and his presence was rather soothing. There was a certain sense of security one had after getting to know the tough young man, and it was this sense of security that led to the Builder getting the proper rest she needed to keep up with everyone's building demands.
After a week of Malroth suddenly popping up next to her in the mornings and hearing him settle down next to her in the evenings, no matter how late or early, the Builder asked him about it.
"Don't make mountains out of mole hills," he had chuckled. "It's not a conscious behavior, at least not all the time. I sleep beside you because when you're up, I need to be up. Who else is going to protect you when you leave the base? Someone's gotta keep an eye on you and that 'someone' is me."
That was plausible, and for the most part, it satisfied the Builder's curiosity. But even after that, even after they brought peace back to Furrowfield and even after they all returned to the Isle of Awakening, where Malroth didn't need to watch out for her as much, the behavior persisted. In the small bedroom she'd created for their farming friends, Malroth still, without fail, chose to sleep in the bed right next to hers.
Exhibit Two: The Case of Khrumbul-Dun
The Builder yawned and rubbed her eyes, sleep weighing heavily upon her body. Her hair fell around her shoulders in loose, damp waves, her body finally clean from its former coating of soot, dirt, and sweat. She enjoyed working in the Khrumbul-Dun mines alongside the miners, but she didn't enjoy having to scrub her skin raw in an attempt to get all the muck off her body.
Her whole body ached from constantly having to smash into veins of copper, iron, and silver. She was not used to working herself overtime, which was ironic considering how many all-nighters she'd been pulling since getting shipwrecked on the Isle of Awakening. The Builder was small-framed and so fighting monsters and smashing into ore was enough to make her want to sleep for a week. In fact, if the Children of Hargon weren't constantly sending scouts to tear into their little town, she might have considered taking a week to rest her sore muscles.
As the blonde neared the new, much swankier inn, she spotted Malroth sipping a digger's jigger at the silver bar. Most of it had been completed and everyone was enjoying the pool immensely. Khrumbul-Dun had been suffering one heck of a heatwave lately, making the cold water of the pool a goddess-send. The Builder's spiky-haired friend had his back turned to her as he chatted with Den, their conversation playful if she had to guess from the bartender's resulting guffaws.
Another yawn interrupted her observation and so she continued towards the inn, flopping down onto one of the beds once inside. Her body felt like dead weight as soon as she hit the soft mattress, the stress of the day leaving her back in one big wave as her eyes fell shut. The builder didn't even have the strength to pull the thin sheet up around herself, for sleep took her quickly.
A sliver of bright sunshine landing on her face is what woke the blonde the very next morning.
She cracked open her eyes and blinked. Had tomorrow truly arrived? Had she really slept through the night? It only felt like minutes ago that she'd fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep, yet her body did indeed feel well-rested. When she sat up, a quick glance around indicated that most everyone was still asleep. Some miners were snoring loudly while others were quieter. She briefly wondered where Malroth had fallen asleep until she heard a yawn beside her.
Sure enough, Malroth had fallen asleep in the bed right next to the one she'd chosen. He sat up and yawned again, covering his mouth with his hand as he stretched his other arm above his head.
"Still... So... Sleepy," he murmured. Once he'd woken up a little more, he offered a grin to the Builder. "Morning."
"Did you stay up late last night?" she asked in a hushed tone. From what she saw of the previous evening, Malroth had been enjoying himself and easing his stresses by putting his feet up at the silver bar. She'd gone to bed, yes, but he hadn't appeared tired at all, and usually the miners went to bed before he did. Malroth preferred staying up a little longer to patrol the perimeter of their base for any potential threats. By all rights, the Builder should have woken up squished between two burly miners.
"No, I went to bed right after you did." Malroth swung his legs over the edge of the bed and began to pull his boots on. Once that was done, he shrugged his jacket on and began to make the bed. It was kind of funny when the Builder thought about it; he could be so rude, yet so well-mannered.
As the other miners began to stir from their sleep—and stir they did once Dougie burst into the inn and shouted, "Get up, lads, we've got diggin' to do!"—the Builder watched Malroth take his leave.
It was only after the inn had cleared out—it was best to lounge around and allow the miners space to scramble out since they would probably accidentally bowl her over in their haste to grab breakfast—that the Builder noticed the thin sheet she'd been too tired to pull over herself had, in fact, been pulled up around her. Her fingers played with the edge of it absentmindedly as she wondered who had been kind enough to do such a thing. She had a sneaking suspicion Malroth, who had yet again somehow woken up beside her, had been sweet enough to tuck her in, but as the day began around her, she realized she didn't have time to think about all this.
She had stuff to build.
Exhibit Three: More Musings on Moonbrooke
It was cold, bitterly cold in Moonbrooke, and not just from the swirling storms that plagued the island.
No one was safe, not even within the walls of the newly-built castle. Between those who mourned the recent deaths and the frequent talk of betrayal and suspicion among the ranks of soldiers, "cold" was a pretty good description of the war-torn island. Snow constantly fell in thick flakes and stuck to every surface it managed to find while biting winds found ways to slip through cracks in castle wall blocks. The young woman in question shivered and wrapped her cloak tighter around herself in an attempt to stave out the cold as she made her way to the barracks.
Most of the soldiers and royal guard were either eating their fill in the castle cafeteria or training under Anessa's instruction. The world was quiet, for once; between the increased attacks from the Children of Hargon and scrambling to build up new defenses, the Builder couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten more than an hour of sleep. It would be nice to actually get a full-night's rest.
She entered the barracks and was delighted to find that she was the first one to turn in this particular evening. She chose the bed she usually chose, the one closest to the fireplace, and quickly got under the covers. Even with the fire roaring nearby, she couldn't shake the chill that had entered her bones from working nonstop on the outer walls. They had finally built up enough defenses that they'd be able to hold off the Hair Force. The Builder still needed to figure out what kind of special weapon they'd need to successfully defeat the hairy monstrosities that kept trying to lay them low, but that could wait until tomorrow, when her mind and body were refreshed.
The blonde closed her eyes for what felt like five minutes. It must have been the middle of the night when she reopened them, brought back to the waking world for some unknown reason. The Builder didn't understand what had pulled her from her dreams; most of the soldiers were asleep in the nearby beds, none of them snoring too loudly, and the fire was still going strong so she wasn't awake from it being too cold.
Actually, she was warm, very warm, like she was curled up right beside the fire. Since she'd first set foot on this frozen wasteland they called Moonbrooke, the blonde couldn't remember ever feeling so comfortably cozy. She wanted to go back to sleep and she would have—for once, she wasn't shivering, so why question it?— but something behind her moved. Upon trying to sit up, the blonde realized that action was impossible because the 'something' behind her had an arm wrapped around her.
Something, no, someone, was currently cuddling her.
The Builder turned to see who the heck was curled up close to her and was surprised to find Malroth snuggled close to her. He was fast asleep and one of his arms was wrapped loosely around her waist, his fingers occasionally twitching as he dreamed. He shifted slightly, his brows furrowing for a second before relaxing again, clearly undisturbed by his friend's movement. He'd somehow rolled from his bed onto hers, and she wasn't sure if the move had been conscious or unconscious, but either way, Malroth seemed quite content to be curled up around her.
I never took him for a cuddler, the Builder thought, suppressing a giggle. It was nice to see his normally thunderous expression relaxed for once, as if he were at peace. Then again, they were in a war zone, i.e. they were right smack in his element. Of course he'd be super comfortable here.
Figures that the one island I'm most stressed out on is the one he relates to, she mused. She settled back against his chest as gently as possible, not wanting to disturb her best friend, and decided she rather liked being this close to Malroth. Not only was he warm, but she felt safe with him. With all this talk of betrayal and the deaths they'd witnessed, he was the one person she knew she could trust completely.
As her eyelids grew heavy and she began to fall back asleep, she could have sworn she felt his grip around her waist tighten, his face nuzzling into her shoulder as he hugged her closer to himself.
One evening, after a particularly harrowing battle against the Air Force, the Builder dragged herself to the barracks. There were only two beds left, as all the others were taken, and so she chose the one closest to her—it was the one next to Warwick, of all people. He was fast asleep and didn't stir when the Builder let herself fall onto her bed, unconsciousness quickly pulling her under its inky depths. She just barely heard the door open and close, someone immediately heading towards her, then stopping in their tracks. She thought she heard a frustrated scoff before the world went black.
The next morning, the sun was out, thank the goddess, and so it was a little less cold than usual. Everyone met for breakfast in the castle cafeteria, stuffing their faces with baked potatoes and some leftover soldier's stew. The Builder was surprised to find Malroth in a foul mood, barely touching his food and wearing a scowl that caused many to give him a wide berth lest they suffer his wrath. After being briefed by Anessa, Warwick, and the king about how the Air Force fortifications were coming along, the Builder managed to catch him alone.
"Hey," she greeted, and to her relief, his scowl lessened somewhat. "You okay?"
"Yeah, why?"
"You look a little..." She tried to find the right way to say it, but after Malroth blinked at her, she blurted, "You look totally pissed off."
At that, his expression softened completely, all traces of annoyance gone. "I do?"
She nodded. "Did something happen that I'm unaware of?"
"Not at all. Sorry, I just didn't sleep well last night."
"Oh." The Builder could understand that. Yesterday's battle had been frustrating. Maybe Malroth had been up late trying to figure out new battle strategies.
After chatting with him a little longer, they both met with Anessa and Warwick to discuss ways to take down the Air Force. It didn't escape the Builder's notice that while Warwick had everyone's attention and proposed different ideas, with Anessa and the king occasionally chiming in with ideas of their own, Malroth eyed the bluenette with slight animosity. It made the Builder wonder if something had happened between them, or if Malroth just straight-up disliked Warwick.
Later that evening, after they'd made more progress on the fortifications and made plans to visit the poison swamps, the Builder decided to turn in early. Once she was about to fall asleep, she thought she heard a peculiar conversation.
"What are you doing?" She'd recognize Malroth's sharp voice anywhere.
"Uh... I'm going to sleep?" Was that Warwick?
"Not by her. That's where I sleep."
There was a sound, not loud enough to concern her, but enough to indicate someone had taken a hasty step back.
"I see. I-I think I'll find another bed, then."
"Good choice."
The last thing the Builder heard was someone scurrying off, and someone else climbing into the bed beside hers.
The blonde wanted to face-palm. Yup, the signs had been right under her nose the entire time, she'd just never given them a second thought. She'd been so busy focusing on helping the people of Furrowfield, Khrumbul-Dun, and Moonbrooke that she hadn't noticed how Malroth had to be the one next to her at all times. The more she thought about it, the more it made her blush.
She had no idea what to make of Malroth's intriguing sleep preferences, but one thing was for sure: she didn't mind sharing a room with him, and no matter how many sleepovers he wanted to have, she'd oblige him. Besides, they'd spent countless nights sleeping side-by-side; what were a few more nights?
It had been a month since Malroth approached the Builder about his sleeping preference, and ever since, he slept over almost every single night. In that time, they'd grown closer than before if that was even possible. Malroth initially slept facing away from her, but as time went on, she frequently woke up to his body curled protectively around hers. He never seemed to think it weird and the Builder never brought it up; she went with it, and honestly, cuddling with Malroth was pretty nice. She liked snuggling up to him and he seemed to feel the same way towards her.
One morning, after Malroth left early to visit Scarlet Sands for the day, the blonde was struck by an idea. Malroth preferred sleeping close to her, sure, but he'd also expressed concern over his house—namely, he was afraid of offending her by not using it much. What if they shared a house? That would certainly be a viable solution to Malroth's dilemma. She could figure out a way to combine their homes so that Malroth still had his own space, yet they'd still be able to sleep side-by-side.
Why hadn't she thought of this before?
The Builder was just about to head for Scarlet Sands to hunt down her best friend and see if he'd be okay with the idea of them sharing a house when the front door opened and Malroth stepped inside. He'd been in a rather chipper mood since he'd started sleeping next to her, and today was no exception.
"There you are," he greeted. "Wanna join me at the oasis? The water's excellent and Digby challenged me to a chicken fight: you and me against him and Babs. You in?"
"I'd love to," she replied, giggling. It was the third week of summer and a dip in the oasis sounded like heaven. Plus, the last time they had a chicken fight, Babs had upstaged Dougie's attempt at showing his strength by being the one to hold him up on her shoulders. The miner still got teased for it sometimes whenever Scarlet Sands held a pool party, though he took all teasing in stride—in fact, he was proud of Babs for being that strong!
"What are you waiting for, then? Let's go!" Malroth took her hand and tried to lead her outside, but she shook her head.
"I would, but I kind of have a new project at hand."
He paused, letting go of her hand. "Oh... What are you working on?"
"It depends on your answer." She blushed. "How do you feel about us becoming roommates?"
"Roommates?" At her nod, he beamed. "Sounds great to me!"
"You mean it?"
"Hell yeah!" Then, after a moment, "but how are you planning to do that? We both have our own separate houses. Are you going to demolish one of them?"
The Builder glanced around her living room. It would take some careful thought, but maybe, just maybe...
"I've got an idea," she announced. "So you should totally go back to the oasis, kill some time, and then come back later, okay?"
"But I wanna see what you're planning!"
"It'll be a surprise," she winked. "And don't worry! I won't demolish any of your stuff, scout's honor. Go have fun!"
With that, she maneuvered her best friend out the door, ignoring his halfhearted protests, closed the door after she'd gently pushed him outside, and grabbed her sketchbook. It was time to get everything sorted out.
When Malroth returned to Green Gardens, he felt a sense of deja vu at the beautiful house before him, only it wasn't just his house he was looking at: his home was now attached to the Builder's, with the only difference being that her home was now made of castle blocks instead of wood. There was an upstairs level complete with a deck, a glass sliding door, and two windows that looked like they offered a great view of Green Gardens' entirety. She'd even taken the liberty of planting a few flowers and bushes in front of the house.
"Whoa.." he muttered. No matter what the blonde built, she always managed to impress him more and more.
"Pretty cool, isn't it?"
Speak of the pretty devil, she emerged from the bottom level, her trusty sketchbook in hand. The Builder grinned, coming to stand beside her best friend so she could admire her creation as well.
"Is this...?"
"This is our new house!" she exclaimed proudly. "You've still got your own room and a private bathroom, and I've still got my own room, but since you like sleeping close to me, I put both of our beds upstairs in a combined master bedroom. We've also got our very own kitchen and dining room, so if we don't feel like making the trek to Lillian's, we'll have everything we need to make dinner on our own."
"Builder, this is incredible!" 'Incredible' didn't even begin to cover Malroth's shock and delight. She'd truly outdone herself on this one; he couldn't wait to get inside and see how everything looked, especially this new combined bedroom of theirs.
He turned to her and they high-fived. "How on earth did you think of all this?"
"I figured since we'd be sharing a house, why not go all-out?" She motioned towards the deck. "Plus, if we're going to be sharing a room, why not have a room with a view?"
"You really do think of everything," Malroth mused aloud. "You're amazing."
The Builder grinned. "Thanks! You up for a grand tour or are you too tired from swimming all day?"
She laughed when it was Malroth who took her hand, leading her into the house so she could show him all the changes she'd made.
The Builder stirred and cracked open her bleary eyes to see the entire room blanketed in darkness. Judging by the indigo skies outside, dawn would be approaching in a few hours. She didn't have any upcoming projects (that she knew of, anyway), but she still liked being able to sleep in without anything interrupting her.
Why am I awake?
She wondered, briefly, if perhaps it was because this room, while familiar and filled with both her things and Malroth's, was technically a new space. She was used to the tiny, rustic interior of her original room; this new one offered a taste of luxury that suited Malroth's preferences. She, herself, didn't mind what kind of room she had, because as long as she had her own bed, that was all that mattered.
The entire house itself was kind of swanky, if she was being honest. A kitchen, a dining room, a living room, two separate bathrooms, and a training room for Malroth made for a pretty great home. They had everything they needed (Malroth was stoked to have his own space to train and practice fighting) and each room was a work of art.
Perhaps she just wasn't used to being in this new, non-tiny room. Maybe, on a primal level, she was on-edge because of how unfamiliar it was, and if that was the case, then her best bet was to try to get some rest anyway; eventually, she'd acclimate to this new space. Her mother had once told her that sleeping in a new house was always difficult the first few nights, and so, while keeping that advice in mind, the Builder decided to try to go back to sleep.
As she shifted, trying to get comfortable again, she realized two things: one, her blankets had somehow become warm enough to rival the heat of a furnace, reminding her of when a certain someone would cuddle her back in Moonbrooke, and two, it felt like something was wrapped around her waist. The Builder lifted the blanket to see that yes, something was wrapped around her waist—it was Malroth's arm. He was spooning her from behind, his arm wrapped loosely around her midsection, and his face was buried into her shoulder. He seemed as content as could be, his expression that of peace.
The Builder was amazed. She'd purposely placed both of their beds in this room so that he'd be able to sleep on his own, figuring that although he seemed to enjoy cuddling with her, he'd probably like to have an entire bed all to himself. She'd never anticipated that he preferred sleeping curled up right next to her like this. Sometime after she'd conked out, he must've pushed his bed close to hers because now both mattresses were squished together to make one huge bed.
...Not that she minded, of course. Secretly, she loved it when Malroth got all cuddly like this. To other people, he could be quite intimidating, but with her, only ever with her, he was a big teddy bear. A teddy bear that could maul anyone who dared try to hurt her, but a teddy bear nonetheless.
"Builder?" Malroth stirred, but his eyes remained closed.
"Yes, Mal?"
"Wha'sa matter?" His voice was thick with drowsiness, and the Builder couldn't help but smile. For someone as tough as he was, he could be really adorable.
"Nothing," she replied, smoothing back a few stray hairs from his face. "I'm just readjusting, go back to sleep."
He obliged after grumbling softly, and as the Builder settled back down beside him, she felt his hold on her waist tighten slightly, his nose nuzzling affectionately into her spine.
Zara had once mentioned that Malroth was terrified of starfish, hadn't she? As the Builder closed her eyes, reveling in Malroth's protective embrace, she realized the master of destruction had another weakness. Some folks needed to sleep with a nightlight on, others liked to have a glass of water nearby...
And Malroth? He just couldn't fall asleep without cuddling his favorite builder.