Per StormfernOfUnderClan's request, here's what Malroth may have been thinking during the final battle. Hope you all enjoy!
Also I don't know if I ever said this, but I do use dialogue from the game. For the sake of copyright, I DO NOT claim ownership over said dialogue in any way, all rights belong to Square Enix. I'm just using the game dialogue to keep things canon, that's all.
The Builder promised she'd take him down if he turned evil, and now... Now the time has come for her to fulfill her promise.
To Save Her
The Builder swung her sword, the sturdy, sharp blade barely making a dent in the monster's scales. She just managed to roll out of the way when the dragon roared, bringing his claws down in two devastating attacks that would have reduced her to bloody ribbons if she had stayed put.
She huffed and panted for breath, chest heaving, blood dripping from her nose. She was pretty sure she had a gash in her side despite the blessed armor currently protecting her from the unholy beast's blows. If... No, when the Builder made it out of this, she knew she'd have bruises all over her face. Black, purple, and yellow would coat her cheeks and nose and forehead; Lulu would probably freak out the next time she saw her. The Builder fully expected a verbal lashing over all these wounds.
The massive dragon before her roared and prepared for another attack, and the Builder readied her sword. Letting out a loud battle cry of her own, she charged forward to meet him head-on.
Is this what it's like to be dead?
Malroth felt weightless. He had no idea where he was or if he was still alive. The last thing he remembered was feeling excruciating pain in his head; he'd then dragged his weary body somewhere, there was something he'd been trying to do, but for some reason, everything felt foggy and nothing made sense.
What was I doing before this?
There was water. He could feel it pooling around him, ripples forming each time his body twitched. Did he even have a body? There was something gnawing at him, right on the edge of whatever consciousness he was experiencing, but what could he do without a body? And what on earth could be bothering him when he was currently cradled in oblivion?
Suddenly, he heard a voice pierce the darkness around him. It didn't say anything coherent; it resembled more of a cry than anything. He knew that voice... It was a voice that strengthened the gnawing feeling. Who did it belong to? And why was it so familiar?
Malroth struggled to remember. Images flashed through his mind, images of a tall, twisting tree, a glittering structure amidst an arid climate, and finally, someplace cold yet royal. He knew these places. The names of them were on the tip of his tongue. He'd forgotten their names, how could he have forgotten...?
Little by little, the fog lifted. Malroth had the sense that he was no longer in control of his body—that is, if he did indeed have a body—yet he managed to catch glimpses of someone. A petite young woman with long blonde hair in pigtails and a big book strapped to her back... He knew her from somewhere. Yes, he knew her!
Builder!
The glimpses he had of her were far and few in-between. He saw flashes of her striking forward at him, faintly heard her cries of pain as she was knocked backward or struck by something beyond his vision. Who the hell was hurting her?! They'd pay dearly for messing with his best friend, how dare they try to—
For a split second, Malroth was able to look down. He couldn't control his body, but he could see his hands were no longer hands. His skin was green and scaly, very much reptilian and not at all human. Claws adorned the tips of what should have been his fingers, and he watched helplessly as his body moved of its own accord, striking and swatting at the Builder as she struggled to dodge each attack.
The one trying to hurt her is... me?
Malroth tried to move one of his limbs but found the action impossible. He couldn't even wiggle his claws! But he had to do something; he couldn't just stand by and allow his best friend to get smacked around by whatever monstrous form he'd taken. But what exactly could he do in this state of existence? ...Or lack of existence?
He tried to think, but that feeling of weightlessness kept invading his senses. Any visions of the blonde he'd grown to care deeply for faded in and out, and he fought to remain awake, to remain aware. He had no idea what he'd become, but whatever it was, it had to be terrifying. He could see glimpses of her now and then—she was panting, out of breath, but still pushing herself to parry, to roll, to do whatever it took to deal damage back at him or fall back to save her skin. There were flashes of fire and lightning. She was trying to keep a brave face on, but Malroth knew her better than that—she was terrified of him.
What kind of monster had he become? And how had he ended up like this? Last he could remember... Last he could remember, he...
He...
Wait...
What had he been trying to think about? He would've growled in frustration if he had a voice. If he could just get his messy, jumbled thoughts together... There was someone. It was a she, right? Yes, there was a girl somewhere. She had blonde hair the color of sunshine, and she was important. But why? Why was she important again...?
And then suddenly, a particularly clear view of the Builder came through. He could actually see her to make out the color of her eyes and the shape of her armor. He had suffered sufficient damage from her to actually feel agony coursing through his body. There were deep gashes on his legs and tail, and he was sure he was bleeding elsewhere.
"GRAAAAAAGH!" That voice...! Was that his voice? It sounded like it, but he hadn't spoken. Human-Malroth hadn't moved his lips; he wasn't even sure he could talk. He was still a bystander to the epic battle taking place; whatever was using his voice was trying to manipulate the Builder. He wished he could warn her that whoever this person was, it wasn't him—it was mimicking him.
"Builder... You were always such a wimp... How... How did you get so strong!?"
Somehow, he knew her mouth quirked up into a small smirk at that. He remembered constantly remarking about her lacking battle skills. She was so cute whenever she got mad, whenever she stomped her feet and got that adorable little pout on her face. Goddess, his best friend was such a cutie when she wanted to be... And she'd gotten so strong. He was proud of her.
"No... it... it's not you... it's me! There's something... inside me... T-tearing me apart..." Indeed, it felt like something huge and suffocating was threatening to snuff out his grasp on reality, but human-Malroth still wasn't the one in charge of the vocal cords. Was... Was it possible that his memories of the Builder were somehow hurting his monstrous self? "Wh-what have you done?!"
What had she done?
Inky darkness stole human-Malroth's vision and suddenly, the battle and everything around it didn't matter. He was floating again, but this time, he was on the edges of not-Malroth's consciousness, desperately waiting for another chance to get involved in the fight at hand. He weaved in and out of darkness, parts of the fight still flashing before him now and again, and he silently rooted for his best friend, craving to cheer anytime she got a good blow in and wincing whenever one of his body's attacks struck her.
Suddenly, his chance arrived. The Builder had dealt enough damage to not-Malroth that he couldn't suppress human-Malroth any longer.
Malroth pushed as hard as he could, and suddenly, he was there, he was conscious again! He could see the crumbly room around him with distinct clarity, and a little ways away stood the Builder. She was panting and huffing, her right arm cradling her left, bruises marring her pretty face. She looked pretty banged up; definitely worse than he'd ever seen her before. Every few seconds, she'd wince or cringe, and Malroth briefly wondered if she had a few broken bones, but he knew that now was not the time to address her wounds. Now was the time to save her life completely. Bruises and broken bones could heal, but if she died...
No. He wouldn't let that happen.
With a burst of rage, Malroth seized control over half of his body and began to hold himself back. He struggled against the grip of whatever had been making himself attack his best friend, both sets of clawed hands locked with each other as he fought against whatever evil was currently occupying his monstrous form.
"L-Lord Malroth!" What an annoying voice... Who was that? "How can this be!? You are the Master of Destruction! This pathetic creature should not be capable of defeating you!"
That pathetic creature is my best friend, the human version of him thought. When they'd started this whole adventure together, Malroth had vowed to become her personal protector. He would do anything it took to make sure she was safe; he would crush any enemy that stood between her and her goals.
...And now, that enemy was himself.
"Now, Builder..." Finally! Finally, he could speak. "This is your chance..."
Her brow furrowed in confusion at the sound of her best friend's voice and not the terrifying, deep baritone of the evil deity.
"You have to... finish me..."
Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth to protest, but human Malroth cut her off before she could say anything. He'd save her, even if it cost him his own life. She was worth the sacrifice. He'd made her promise that if he ever went off the rails, that she'd shake him back to his senses. If that meant death, so be it.
Even so... Part of him hurt. He needed to say goodbye, but he didn't exactly want to. If he could have it his way, he'd stay with her and protect her for as long as he could. He'd make her laugh and they'd joke about old times and he'd have his best friend by his side for the rest of his life. Now, however... It wasn't up to him anymore. Hargon had made the decision for him.
If he had control over his own body, he would have shed a tear. He didn't know what awaited him in the afterlife, if there even was an afterlife for an illusion, but he was going to miss the Builder terribly. "I'm happy... we got to say... goodbye..."
"No!" she wailed, but Malroth's attention shifted as the evil Malroth began fighting him harder. It was becoming impossible to hold him off any longer. If she didn't finish him off soon, he wouldn't be able to protect her anymore. It was now or never.
"Do it, Builder!" he barked. "Do it... Now!"
The last thing he saw was his best friend hanging her head in despair, but he didn't miss the way she gripped her sword that much tighter. She was going to do it; she was going to take him down. She was going to keep her promise.
It's funny, Malroth thought, his consciousness fading quickly. What was it about love? That you'd give up your life for another's? I guess... There was some... truth to that... after all...
Weightlessness.
He was floating again.
I can't see... anything... Can't feel... anything...
Images of a battle between a petite blonde and a horrible dragon flashed in his mind. Beyond that, Malroth's senses failed him. Why couldn't he feel anything?
Oh, that's right... I'm dead.
The darkness was so comforting. It was such a relief to be floating in nothingness. To be alive meant to suffer and worry; here, at least, he had no worries. He did not suffer.
Suddenly, Malroth felt something tugging at his awareness.
"But there was something..." His lips were moving. He had lips again! And if he had lips, then that meant he had a body! The spiky-haired male tested his limbs and found, to his delight and relief, that he could move again. He slowly stood up and was proud of himself for not stumbling over his own two feet.
"Something... important I had to do..." His brain felt so fuzzy. There was such a fog over his mind, but he had to push himself. Maybe if he pushed hard enough, his memory wouldn't fail him. Maybe he'd be able to remember...
"I'm waiting for someone..." he realized aloud. "I've been waiting and waiting... But why? For who?"
That blonde girl who had been battling the dragon... She was important for sure, he knew that much. She'd been battling a fierce evil; she was obviously good and the dragon was evil. Aquamarine-colored eyes and a dopey grin flickered through his mind and Malroth stood a little straighter.
Was she the one he was waiting for?
He began to walk around. The world before him was little more than fog, water, and darkness, yet the more he walked, the more the cogs in his brain began to turn. He couldn't get those aquamarine eyes and that stupid smile out of his mind, and—
"I... remember..." A swampy island full of muck and dead foliage; a scorching desert with a golden figure; a snow-covered wasteland with long-dried blood coating its fields... But through all of that... "Yes, I remember!"
It was her—she was the common denominator; she was always with him, no matter where they went. She'd stuck with him through each and every adventure, always by his side no matter what. She was his best friend. She always had this huge mallet with her and that book of secrets she wouldn't let him look at, and—
"I'm waiting for the builder!" he cried, his eyes widening with realization. He turned this way and that, trying to find her. "Builder! Where are you!? Builder!"
He ignored the pins-and-needles feeling in his legs and began running in search of her. She had to be here! "Builder! Come on, where are you!?"
Despair and loneliness nagged at him. Just when he thought he'd be stuck in the nothingness forever, something changed behind him. Malroth turned around to find a massive, glowing orb of light. It was beautiful, and it seemed to offer a sort of warmth the darkness lacked. He scrambled to get to it, fearing it might disappear if he didn't hurry, and once he was close enough, a feeling of peace enveloped him. This orb of light felt so familiar... It reminded him of the Builder's presence; she always had a calm, soothing aura around her. Malroth had the sudden urge to reach out and touch the light, to see if maybe this was the key to finding his best friend.
Builder? Is that you?
Slowly, Malroth lifted his hand up. As he did so, he felt something within the light stir, and just when he was starting to wonder if this hadn't been a good idea after all, he felt another hand slap his in a high-five. A bright light, brighter than anything he'd ever seen, eclipsed the darkness and suddenly, Malroth was flooded with memories. He could remember the Builder, Rosie, Babs, Anessa, Lulu... All of their friends, the good times, the battles, the adventure...
The white light around him lasted a few seconds before the world righted itself. Malroth's hand was still touching the Builder's when the smoke and light cleared, and suddenly, he was back in the world of the living. Twinges of pain surged through him and he fell to his knees, his muscles strangely sore despite the fact that he hadn't felt anything prior to regaining a physical form.
"Hey, Builder... I had a feeling... it was you..." He fought to catch his breath. How long had he been running? Had he even been running? He felt so out of the loop with everything that was going on.
He heard a sniffle and glanced up at the blonde before him, her eyes wet with unshed tears, her bottom lip trembling. A split second later, she fell to her knees as well and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, a sob escaping her as she clung to him. In all the time he'd known her, he'd never seen her cry before. He... wasn't sure what to think about that.
"You!" There was that irritating nasal voice again. Hargon. "B-but... You should no longer exist!"
Malroth ignored it, the sobbing girl in his arms more of a priority at the moment. More twinges of pain shot through his arms, legs, and head, but other than that, he was alive; his arms encircled the Builder and held her close. It felt amazing to feel her hair tickling his cheeks, to be able to live in the physical realm again; he hoped he never had to go back to that dark world for as long as he lived.
"Thanks..." he began, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "For keeping our promise... That sword of yours... is pretty sharp, you know..."
"I didn't want to hurt you, I swear, but I heard your voice, I know I promised you and I'm so sorry, I—"
"Shh..." He patted her back, then winced as another wave of pain tore through his limbs. She pulled back to look at him, her eyes wide with worry and concern. It was written all over her face that she was dying to ask him if he was okay, how he was okay, but Hargon's voice interrupted them once more.
"Hmm... Perhaps I underestimated how strong a friendship the fools had forged..."
Malroth didn't want to let go of her. He wanted to hold onto her for as long as possible, because yes, they were best friends, but she was the one who had always stuck by his side no matter what. She'd gone through what appeared to be a literal hell to save him. She deserved every bit of comfort he could offer, but with Hargon still around... He gently unwound the Builder's arms from around him and got to his feet, stretching until his joints gave a relieving "pop." He helped the blonde stand as well, not missing her wince when she put a little too much weight onto her left leg. The poor girl was going to need a lot of medicinal herbs once this was all said and done.
"Builder." At her nickname, she turned to him and found that Malroth's gaze was trained on the High Priest. He had unfinished business to settle. "We've got a lot to talk about, but that can wait. I think we need to teach this loony a little lesson first!"
Hargon's face twisted into hatred as he regarded the wounded girl. "Meddling builder! You will regret crossing me!"
The entire foundations of the castle began to shake ominously. The Builder nearly toppled into Malroth, but he caught her and eased her back onto her feet. She whispered a "thanks" and leaned onto his shoulder for support.
"Whoa! What was that!?" Malroth exclaimed. "Something's not right!"
A thick purple mist hung above Hargon's throne. Had it been there when Malroth awoke? He couldn't remember, but his fight or flight instincts were screaming at him; something truly wasn't right, and Hargon's gleeful, "Muah hah hah haah! Yes! YES!" only solidified it.
Malroth and the Builder watched in horror as the purple mist began to swirl together, morphing into a sphere with indigo lightning. Just as Malroth was going to pull the Builder behind him to keep her safe, time seemed to freeze. He couldn't move, could hardly even blink—
LONG HAVE I AWAITED TO BE REBORN.
I HAVE ONLY ONE PURPOSE...
TO DESTROY ALL I SEE BEFORE ME!
Time resumed and suddenly, the tremors weren't just coming from the castle's foundations—the purple sphere began to expand and grow, the lightning lashing out at the castle's ceiling. Debris rained down on Hargon's throne room and both heroes watched in horror as an aggravated red light exploded from the cloud before giving way to white light. Malroth's grip on the builder tightened as more debris rained down, thicker pieces of citadel wall blocks crashing into the flooring around them. The white light remained for a heartbeat before a massive, horrifying dragon-monster roared into existence, causing more rubble to fall from the castle's upper stories. Once the smoke and haze cleared, Malroth got a good look at this new creature, its glowing red eyes drinking in the environment with clear, malicious intent, and for once in his life, the tough male felt a sliver of fear.
The dragon had four thick, muscular arms and claws that looked like they could do some serious damage—and they had done serious damage to the Builder. The dragon's head was adorned with purple webbing and long horns, and its face looked like the epitome of evil—narrowed red eyes, a dangerous smile with sharp teeth, and an expression that promised death and destruction. A long tail with a literal snake head at the end of it flicked back and forth in anticipation, and the dragon chuckled darkly as its eyes fell onto its previous human vessel.
Hargon cackled wildly. "Behold the Master's true form! I thank you, builder, for drawing your friend forth from His enfeebled form! For freeing His heart from that last, pathetic vestige of humanity!"
Malroth realized the previous battle had been nothing more than a ploy by Hargon. His and the Builder's efforts to save the world and snuff out this despicable entity's existence had been for naught. "Damn it! We've been taken for a ride!"
MY CHILD...
The frightening voice of the dragon rang out despite the fact that it hadn't moved its mouth. Malroth shuddered.
YOU WERE MY WEAKNESS. BUT NOW I AM FREE. MY POWER HAS RETURNED...
"No..." The spiky-haired male whispered. The Builder managed to hear him and reached for his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
THE FIRST THING I WILL DESTROY... IS YOU!
With that, the god of destruction inhaled deeply and let out an eardrum-shattering roar that caused the castle to finally cave in on itself. Malroth's lungs burned as he screamed in terror and rage, his grip on the Builder forcefully loosening as something knocked them apart and knocked him unconscious.
Everything hurt.
Malroth groaned at the soreness in his body and limbs; whatever had knocked him out had had one hell of a force behind it, that was for sure. He cracked open his eyes and blinked, moving his arms and legs experimentally to make sure everything still worked properly. Once he was able to push himself up onto his feet, he looked around at the broken world before him.
"Ugh... Where is this place?" he murmured. "How did I even get here?"
All he could see was ruin; the castle had been reduced to rubble and glass shards from broken stained glass windows littered some of the remaining pathways. What really grabbed his attention, however, was the blood-colored skies above him.
"The sky's such a strange color..." Even so, the red was kind of pretty in a morbid sort of way. "Have I died and gone to heaven? Or hell, more likely..."
The words had a sense of deja vu to them, like he'd said them before. Suddenly, the events with Hargon and that horrifying destructive deity came rushing back, and Malroth's eyes widened in realization.
"Wait! Where's the Builder!?"
He took off in search of her, careful to hop over whatever holes littered the remains of Hargon's castle. As he began to make his way down a particularly intact pathway, something moved in his peripheral vision. Malroth turned towards the movement and saw something lying amidst the ruins. To his amazement and relief, it wasn't something—it was someone! He'd know those pigtails anywhere.
"Builder!" Malroth raced towards her unmoving form and instantly fell to his knees at her side. Her eyes were closed and he couldn't quite tell if she was breathing or not, so he gingerly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Builder! Are you okay?"
She didn't respond. Malroth gently shook her. "Hey, Builder! Get up, will you? Come on, at least say something!"
Still, she would not move. His gaze swept over her quickly, trying to assess the damage she'd suffered from both the fight with his alter ego and the huge explosion. By chance, Malroth's eyes fell on her face and he leaned in closer. "What's this? Blood...?"
He stared at her, his brain going completely blank. He had no idea what to think of this; it couldn't be real. She couldn't be...
He forced a chuckle. She was messing with him. This was just some kind of prank, nothing serious... right?
"Nice one, Builder! You had me going for a second there, but you can drop the act now."
The Builder's body remained chillingly still. Malroth stared at her back, once more trying to see if she was even breathing. When he couldn't quite see whether or not she was, dread settled into the pit of his stomach. What was he to do if she...? How could he go on if his best friend...?
"...Builder?"
Please... yell at me, punch me, anything.. just wake up...
Finally, as if the goddess had heard his prayers, the Builder winced before opening her eyes. She whimpered softly and Malroth quickly removed his hand from her shoulder, thinking he'd accidentally hurt her.
"Thank goodness! You're alive!" He let out a relieved sigh. He didn't want to think about the possibility of losing her. "You really had me worried there."
Her eyes squeezed shut in pain as she tried to readjust herself, another tiny whimper escaping her when she moved too quickly. Malroth wasn't sure what kind of injuries she had, but they had to be substantial; he'd never seen her look so weak before.
"Mal...roth..."
The man in question leaned in closer. "I'm here. What can I do?"
"I need..." She winced. "I need you... to make me... a medicinal herb."
Malroth blanched. "What? Don't be silly! I can't make a thing—you know that! You've watched me try enough times..."
Honestly, how many of his attempts had literally blown up in his face? He wasn't usually the type to feel embarrassed or stupid, yet anytime he stood in front of a workbench and tried to make the simplest items, he was reminded of how he failed at being a builder. He was the one who smashed things up and smashed whoever got in her way, but making things? Nah; that was her forte. Surely she had some leftover medicinal herbs somewhere in that backpack of hers?
The Builder's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Maybe the Master... of Destruction can't make anything, but... Maybe you can."
She hissed and squeezed her eyes shut, and Malroth's heart clenched painfully at the sight of her in so much agony.
"I see where you're coming from! Alright, I'll give it a shot," he vowed. He had to at least try, otherwise... No, there would be no "otherwise"; he'd save her no matter what it took!
Malroth turned away from her and drank in his surroundings. Okay—building stuff, building stuff... Agh, how do I do this?
Where should he start first? How did she usually begin the building process? He tried to remember all the times he'd watched her craft medicinal herbs. The key ingredient to making one was a medicinal leaf, right? Hargon's ruined castle had to have something reminiscent of that. In fact... As Malroth turned around to begin his search for such an item, a particularly green area caught his attention. Roses and vines were growing there, and amidst the small patches of grass were a series of shrubs that looked suspiciously like the ones the Builder harvest medicinal leaves from.
He took off towards what remained of Hargon's courtyard and began searching the shrubs, trying to see if any of them had the telltale leaf he desperately needed. It wasn't until he'd exhausted nearly every one of them that he realized one final bush remained; upon inspection, he eased a medicinal leaf off its stem and admired it.
This is one of those medicinal leaves, right? he thought. Now what would the Builder do? She'd take it to a table or something...
Malroth again surveyed his surroundings and, to his delight, there was a worn workbench on a nearby hill.
Ah, that'll do nicely! Let's give this a go!
He quickly set the leaf down on the workbench's surface. "Okay... I've watched her do this more times than I care to remember. She always started off like this..."
Malroth began trying to make a medicinal herb with the rusty tools stored in the table's secret compartment. The more he tried to make it, the worse things began to go. Attempt after attempt found him failing horribly, each literally falling apart before his eyes.
"Damn it! Why can't I do this?" He folded his arms across his chest in frustration. Why couldn't he make things? Okay, so it made sense that when he was the vessel for the god of destruction, he'd be useless when it came to building, but now? There was no excuse! It was just a stupid medicinal herb, it didn't take a genius to make one, so why couldn't he do it and be done with it? Honestly, with how unlucky he'd been in the building department, maybe giving up completely wasn't a bad idea.
Then again, if he gave up now, the Builder might not make it, and he refused to let that happen. "I can't give up! I have to give it another shot!"
Readying himself, Malroth grabbed the leaf and tried again.
No dice.
Again.
Nope.
Again.
It just wasn't happening.
He hung his head sadly. "This is hopeless... I'm never going to do it..."
How the hell did the Builder make this look so easy?! He wondered if she'd laugh at him for failing so much, then quickly dismissed the thought—she was too nice to laugh at anyone when they were struggling. Truth be told, she was the first genuinely nice person he'd ever met... Malroth couldn't remember anything of his past before washing up on the Isle of Awakening, nor was he sure he even had a past, what with him being part of Hargon's illusion and all. But he knew without a doubt that she was genuinely good—she was so sweet and bubbly, always friendly to any and all, monster or human, and while he'd never understood how she could be such an open book, he'd always admired how kind she was. The Builder was the definition of a good person. If she ended up passing away, he knew for sure his world would become a little darker without her light.
Determination lit his veins. No amount of failure would ever stand in the way of him saving her life. If anyone deserved to live, it was her!
I have to keep trying! One more go!
The more he tried, the more he failed. Malroth growled as he worked harder, desperate to just make the stupid herb so he could get back to his best friend's side and help her in any way he could.
After his fifth attempt, Malroth covered his face with his hands and gritted his teeth together angrily. At this rate, he'd never make it and the Builder would perish. What was the use of returning to the Isle without her? Yes, the others were worth saving and he'd protect them all until his last breath, but without her... If it hadn't been for her, Malroth wouldn't have gotten to meet any of their friends. Whenever people mentioned Malroth, they had to mention the Builder, too. He couldn't imagine living a life without her by his side.
In his mind's eye, he could see that dopey smile of hers. Even when her creations came out looking a little wonky, she never looked at poor results as a reason to quit and she was never down on herself. She kept trying until she got it right, and although yes, she did get frustrated sometimes, she never, ever gave up. Any challenges that came her way were met with determination and excitement; she never let failure keep her from getting better. She always seemed to have fun with whatever she was making.
And that's when Malroth realized he'd been going about this the wrong way.
He chuckled to himself. "What am I doing? The Builder never built stuff like this. She always had a great big smile on her face as she worked... And I always enjoyed watching her do it, too..."
How many times had he caught her grinning like an idiot when she finally figured out how to improve a recipe? And how many times had they both shared knowing smiles when she figured out what to build next? He always knew whenever she got that determined twinkle in her eye, he'd have to stick close to her—she often got so into her projects that she'd forget to eat or sleep, and he couldn't count how many times he'd had to literally put her over his shoulder and carry her off to grab dinner or to make her get some rest. No matter what, the Builder always enjoyed the process of putting something together. Maybe he should try to enjoy it, too.
His hands moved to grasp the medicinal leaf again, albeit gentler this time as he worked. Building is supposed to be fun! No, building IS fun!
Malroth took his time and realized that it didn't have to be perfect. The Builder's work always looked perfect once it was done, but that was because she never put pressure on herself to be perfect—she simply had fun with it. Suddenly, it all made sense, and before he knew it, right on the table, Malroth had a medicinal herb ready to go.
I, I did it... I did it? He stared at the herb, admiring it. He punched the air triumphantly. "I DID IT! Ha ha!"
Without missing a beat, he hurried back to the Builder's side. "Hey! I made the medicinal herb you wanted! Here!"
She still appeared to be resting, so he eased the herb into her mouth. As soon as it made contact with her tongue, a white light engulfed her body for a few seconds, indicating it had healed her. Malroth watched and held his breath, waiting for her to jump back to her feet, good as new, just like all those other times she'd suffered hefty wounds in battle.
Yet... She remained deathly still. He frowned and tapped her shoulder. When she still didn't move, he tried again, dread filling his stomach once more at the prospect that he was too late. He'd spent all that time struggling to make her medicine... Maybe he'd spent too long. Maybe she...
No... She couldn't be.
To his relief, the Builder opened her eyes and tested her limbs, heaving a sigh of relief when she realized she could move them again without issue. Her body was still sore from the blast of evil-Malroth's roar, but other than that, she seemed to be alright. Malroth wiped the sweat from his brow as she stood up and stretched.
"You're okay," he exclaimed with a choked-up chuckle, happy to see her up and moving again. "It's good to have you back! How are you feeling?"
...He didn't expect her to put her hands on her hips and glare at him. "Are you kidding me?!"
"Whoa there! Don't get angry at me! What did I do?"
"You know good and well what you did!" She stomped her foot angrily. He knew it was supposed to intimidate him, but honestly, she was too adorable to be even a little intimidating. "You told me you never wanted to see me again and then you went and got yourself kidnapped! Do you know how worried I was about you?! Do you have ANY idea how broken up I was over the fact that I could've lost my best friend?!"
He couldn't help it. She was just so cute. He laughed and reached out to pull her into a hug, which she allowed, albeit begrudgingly. "Well, when you put it like that... Sorry, Builder. It won't happen again, I promise!"
Her glare morphed into more of a pout, her lips pursed as she refused to look at him. Malroth placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head so he could meet her gaze. "Still, don't you think you're overreacting just a little bit? Go on—turn that frown upside down!"
She tried to keep the pout in place, but he could tell a smile was tugging at her mouth. "No. I'm mad at you."
"Come on, Builder, pleeease? For me?"
He pursed his lips and tried to give her puppy eyes, which probably looked ridiculous, but he didn't care about looking ridiculous in front of her. Finally, she sighed and the side of her mouth quirked up in a half-smile.
"There, happy?"
He laughed. "That's more like it! Smiling like an idiot suits you much better!"
She smacked his chest playfully and he hugged her again. This time, she wound her arms around his muscular frame and squeezed, happy to have her best friend back.
When they pulled apart, Malroth grew somewhat serious. "I'm sorry about what I said back in Moonbrooke. I didn't mean any of it. I was just lashing out."
The blonde nodded, her smile fading. Suddenly, she looked just as meek and quiet as when he'd first met her, her hands wringing together nervously. "I'm sorry, too. I should've known Warwick was the traitor. I never should have let him convince me to use Ra's mirror on you or throw you in that jail cell... Can you ever forgive me?"
The spiky-haired male grinned. "Nothing to forgive, Builder. We're best friends for life, you know that. As far as I'm concerned, all of that stuff is water under the bridge."
She was about to reply when a huge tremor shook the remains of Hargon's castle. As they fought to keep their footing, Malroth had the sudden sense that there was something evil and very-much monster nearby. When the world stopped shaking, his instincts led him to look towards where he'd found the medicinal shrub.
"Builder, over there." He pointed towards a group of flashing lights, and when she noticed them, too, her expression grew sober. "I don't like the look of it one bit."
"Yikes." She whistled. "I don't like the look of that, either."
"I'll bet anything it's Hargon and his new best buddy getting up to no good!" He pushed up his sleeves, his face twisting into a glare. "We need to go over there and put a stop to whatever it is they're doing right now!"
"I agree. But before that..." The Builder shrugged off her backpack and rifled through it. Malroth was about to ask her what she was looking for when she pulled out a very familiar oaken club.
His eyes grew wide. "Hey, isn't that my...?"
"You must've dropped it somehow." She held it out to him and he happily accepted it. "I made that specially for you, dummy. Be more careful, okay?"
He laughed and gave it a few test swings. Even after all this time, it still held up perfectly. "I can't believe you lugged it all the way here!"
"How could I not? You've always loved that thing, plus it was the first gift I ever gave you. Of course I'd bring it back to you."
He ran his fingers over its bumps, admiring its rough texture. "Still... it means a lot to me that you did. Thanks, Builder."
"You're welcome!"
Malroth allowed his weapon to lean against his shoulder as he eyed the lights again. "Alright then, shall we pay those two a visit?"
He'd already turned to head in the direction of where Hargon and that horrible dragon were probably wreaking havoc when she spoke up again. "Um... Th-there's one other thing..."
"Hm?" He turned to find her looking shy, her cheeks pink with blush. He was about to ask her if she was feeling alright, if maybe she needed him to make another medicinal herb, but all thoughts went right out the window when she grabbed his shoulder, leaned in, and placed a kiss on his cheek.
Shocked, Malroth lifted a hand to where she'd kissed him, his fingers ghosting over the spot. "What was that for...?"
"For saving my life. Thank you, Malroth." The shy smile that lit up her face made him feel like he'd swallowed a bunch of butterflies. His heart seemed to skip a beat at the thought that she'd just kissed him on the cheek. No one had ever done that before... What could it mean?
"Now," her voice broke him out of his thoughts once more, though this time, she wasn't the least bit meek or shy. She pulled her backpack on and nodded towards the flickering lights. "You ready to go kick some butt?"
He grinned. "Always. Let's go!"