The Snarled Circle Chronicles

22. A Nightmare Proposal (Part 2)

One day. Two missions. Four shaken people. After a storm rocks Edelweiss, secrets are quickly rising to the surface.

M

Am morgigen Tag werde ich nicht mehr hier sein...

7:12 p.m.

Felice still wasn't ready to leave Edelweiss.

"I can't run away yet. This human flour makes really good pasta!" He said, and then packed himself a container of it. Otto said they could easily buy a bag of flour on the way, but the fairy was adamant everything be exactly the same, so future pasta pots would taste as wonderfully as the one they'd made for breakfast.

"I shouldn't run away when I'm all sweaty from running around today," he told Otto. Then he had his own relaxing half hour in the tub, scrubbing the oily glitter off his wings and dreaming of a tub three times as spacious. He combed his hair and laced up a fresh shirt and slipped his feet in his sandals. Now he was tidied up for an impromptu journey across mountains of springtime.

"I won't be able to run away if I haven't packed," he said at last. Though his belongings were paltry, he'd also stuffed his suitcase with flour and olive oil and the stolen trinkets and the heavy tomes stuffed with flattened flowers from the summer previous. After slapping himself with the scented lotion, he packed it away, and was good to go with his suitcase and lute case. (No somber pieces of Edelstein's were allowed to come with him. Only the cheerful music in his heart.)

And then, for a time, the two had simply relaxed, procrastinating in every which way. They baked a cake and ate it. They painted pictures and practiced music and tried, fruitlessly, to unlock the Black Study to see what horrors lived within. The closest they came was when Otto unlodged the gunk from the keyhole, and Felice commented on a clean and immaculate workspace. Someone dusted it!

"Herr Edelstein and Miss Eliza haven't come back from their date yet. Should we be worried about them?" Felice asked when he met Otto at the door to finally leave. His arms were already straining to carry his luggage, and he worried whether a journey on foot would require him to carry them through forests and fields. A floating charm must be perfected!

"We can't worry about them. As long as they're still gone, we're still safe to leave. We'd better go now."

"They stepped out onto the evening lawn and said goodbye to Edelweiss. Felice said goodbye to the front hedges and the flower beds, and he shouted over the iron fence and the herd of ostrich topiaries to where he knew the pixies harvested pollen and spores.

Then, with the golden wool of the sky separating one storm from the next, the children walked, or rather, trudged, all the way to Birngarten.

"Tonight, you are the honored guest of the Duke of Liutberht. We will dine in style, and you may order whatever you wish."

"Can I have all dessert?"

"You can order a dozen giant sundaes if you like. Whatever you don't eat, I will. Come on, this way to the fanciest place in all of Birngarten… which isn't that fancy, really, I've been to fancier, but you'll think it's fancy… you commoner."

"Your Grace, I'm forever in debt!" Felice screeched, bowing and folding his wings so they were parallel with the ground.

"Ha! Come, peasant! See the wonders!"

Its name was Goat Fur, and it was a pub.

Felice was amazed. Dim lanterns sat on the tables. Servers came around and took orders, then returned with food. Behind a long counter at the front was a shelf filled with various beers and other foul drinks. Felice had only tasted wine before — good, Allegrian Oracolio — not the bitter stuff Otto sneaked for him one time. And though all wine was some kind of bitter in the first place, it was another facet of fairyland he found himself missing.

"I've never been in a place like this before," he said as he fluttered up to sit on a barstool. "Do I just say what I want and I get it?"

"Yeah, but we're only kids, so we can't have any fun drinks," Otto grumbled beside him.

"You kids shouldn't even be sitting at the bar. Where are your parents?" The disgruntled bartender asked from the other end.

"Dead," said Otto.

"Half-dead," said Felice.

"Oh, you two want to be cheeky, do you?"

"I'm the Duke of Liutberht."

"Really? Where's your ring?"

With one dramatic movement, Otto pulled himself up and slapped one hand on the table. "I exude my nobility like a perfume! What fresh hell provokes your questioning of my status?"

The whole pub stared. Felice just laughed and laughed.

"You're Roderich Edelstein's little cousin, aren't you? Tragic boy? I didn't know you were troubled as well. Of course you'd be troubled. Living with that tightass."

"We are all fully fledged in the ways of tightassery. From my birth I was initiated, and now at age eight, I revel in all the disgruntling powers the universe has given me. You know my cousin revels in annoyance. Translate that knowledge to my smaller frame, and give my flitsome fairy friend here a chicken breast, baked, not fried, and a glass of Allegrian wine. I'll have five vanilla sundaes to start."

The bartender repeated the food orders to a server, who sidled off, amused. Otto plopped himself back down and grinned.

"I was born to influence," Otto said.

"But you're so naughty. I wish you would tell me what you did, please? You've been hiding it all day."

Otto put up his hand. "Where honor permits, a duke does not speak."

"But you're gonna tell me eventually."

"I speak of nothing."

"Otto, you're gonna tell me why you woke me up and cried all over me."

"What? Such shameful accusations! Silence yourself, lowly Fré."

"Okay, I can blame you for that. Fortunato Fré was a legendary Fairy King. You can't call me a Fré like it means a silly airhead."

"You're of noble blood, are you not?"

"Not all nobles are related to Fré. Don't be an unsightly ass, you shitstain," Felice said, using a word he'd learned from Otto.

The boy duke leaned in close. "Feli, you don't use 'shitstain' in a fancy place."

"I don't? Eh… sorry."

The bartender was already plenty peeved. When the sundaes came, Otto ate them, leaving none for his friend. Felice savored his chicken, and when he was finished, he ordered his own sundae and gushed at its deliciousness.

"Thank you so much! This is good. Can we have ice cream everywhere on our journey? Once we get to Allegria, we can have tiramisu and gelato and tiramisu-flavored gelato."

Otto whispered in his ear. "Hey, that's Oracolio up there, right? You should use magic and ask for some."

Felice shook his head.

"Come on. Do you want it? Even a taste? It's only mischief."

Felice cocked his head at the darkness taking root in Otto's eyes. Had he noticed that magical spark there before? Sometime before, that he couldn't remember? Surely, if Otto had fairy blood, it was…

Was Otto partly dark fairy?

"It's your last night here. Only a taste. We can run afterwards. We have our things. No one's in here to see anymore."

Felice shuddered, looking around them. No one remained. That much was true. But what was the price of mischief? He'd already taken part in stealing today. It almost seemed like… Otto was justifying something…

"Are you doing little bad things to make up for one big bad thing in the past?"

"No. Don't see it like that."

"Tell me what it was you did, and I'll tell you you're not a bad person."

"Naughty kid, are you?" The bartender joked.

Otto popped up on the stool and slapped his palm across the man's forehead. "TRANCE," he hissed, before the man fell into a strange haze and dropped his towel.

"Pour my friend a little bit of that Oracolio and ignore him as he drinks it. Then, when he's finished, you'll take the glass from him, put it away, and forget any of this happened. Ready? Begin."

Otto snapped his fingers. The bartender took the bottle of Oracolio, poured a glass, and set it in front of Felice. Then he leaned back, idle, as the little fairy took a sip.

"It's just like at home. Nasty and bitter, though. Wait, what kind of spell was that you used? I've never seen it before."

Otto snapped his hand up, but Felice was faster, dodging and pushing it away.

"Forget you saw that."

"It was a dark spell! Fairies like me can't use dark magic, but… you can. Otto, there's dark magic inside you. I can feel it now!" He squeezed Otto's hand and hummed, searching for the uncanny vibrations. When he felt them, he jerked his hand back as if he'd been burned. Otto's whole body was brimming with magic. He should be exploding. But he looked like a completely normal human boy. This was impossible, right?

"You're a wizard," Felice said. "I don't know what kind of fairy blood is in you, but you're so powerful! You're like my grandpa! No… you're stronger than my grandpa. This is weird."

The little fairy looked to the dazed bartender, then back to his friend. Otto looked sick. He was shaking, and goosebumps were spreading all along his arms. He hung his head, then pointed toward the door.

"Let's go, Felice."

Fearful, the fairy climbed down and took his cases again. He followed Otto outside, and that's when the two of them were seized by men in feathered hats and vests with an insignia of a fire poker crossed with a rose.

"Those are the two that wrecked the shop earlier! I know that kid! He lives at the Edelweiss manor, just east of here!"

"These are children," said the man struggling to control Otto. His accent was strange, flatter. He peered curiously down at the two with indigo eyes.

Felice tried not to struggle, but Otto was kicking and screeching. He whipped his head around at bit at the man in uniform who held him.

"You let me go! I'm the Duke of Liutberht! I have to be going now! Felice, use your magic! Do something!"

"Why? You did steal that stuff earlier! You said it was mischief, but it was still—"

"Shut up! Why do you have to question every fucking thing? We've been caught! We have to run!"

Felice started to sing, intent on influencing the men who held them. But the vision of Otto in the pub, using magic, kept irritating something. He sang and lost focus. Sang and lost focus. Otto screamed at him, and he couldn't find the warmth in his heart to summon any sort of working magic.

The shorter man, who held Otto, was made to drag both of them by one arm each back to Edelweiss. Otto sniveled and whined the entire time, trying to rip away and deciding against it. If Felice couldn't summon the power to free himself, then Otto would be a prisoner, too. He'd made a promise to protect the other, and that included not making him scared.

If he showed his true power here… Felice wouldn't trust him.

"You boys owe that shopkeeper a lot of money. Are your parents here?"

"They're dead!" Otto shrieked.

"We don't know where Herr Edelstein is. He's been missing all day. And Auntie Ilse is dead, so…"

The older uniformed man smiled. "Well, we will stay with you until they return. We need to have a talk with them. We're knights from Amotoile, doing our rounds to check for suspicious activity and solve disputes." (He eyed Otto as he said this.) "My name is Paul, and this is Francis, my new recruit. Please don't be afraid of us. We're just doing our jobs."

Francis gave an awkward bow.

The knights ushered the children inside, where they quickly made themselves out to be sentinels. Even the luggage was taken and stowed somewhere where tit could not be retrieved

Once there was a breath of peace, Otto scrambled through the hallways until he came to the back door leading to the garden. He slammed it open and sprinted, stomping on all the mushy flowers and throwing his coat in the mud. Felice found him huddled at the edge, in a place where it looked like a path had once connected garden and orchard. Now only the iron fence stood to separate the wild from the mundane.

"Hey. Do you want to talk?"

"Felice, use your wings and fly me over the fence. Do it, or I'll make you."

Felice only kneeled next to Otto and folded his wings. He placed one hand over Otto's heart, then sang a song of healing. A soft light echoed off the tips of his fingers, and the more he pressed on into melodies beautiful and unreal, the more Otto's shoulders drooped, and the more his breathing steadied.

"Are you calmer now?"

Otto nodded, though tears were still streaming down his cheeks.

"You're a fairy of darkness."

"Yes. I am."

"So that means… you're a shapeshifter. You're not Otto. You're someone else, pretending to be Otto. And the thing you did… the bad thing…"

Otto threw himself on the paved path and shuddered, Felice's spell splintering and crumbling to pieces.

"There is no Duke of Liutberht. He was murdered, and his heir, his newborn son… I replaced him, and I fear he's gone, too. It's my fault. Edelstein knows what I am, and he hates me. It's my fault."

The fairy backed away, wings twitching. Otto looked up at him. Finally, he was free. He'd released the heaviness on his heart — admitted his wrongs. But now… He looked back at his hands. His nails were longer. They were growing, sharpening, until they resembled claws. He reached up and felt tingling ears, which were forming into points. His teeth hurt, and he flicked his tongue over a crooked set of fangs.

"Stay with me, Felice. Fly me over the fence and let me be free. Let's be free together, both of us. Let's forget this place and fly to Allegria. Show me the beach. I want to see the ocean."

Felice continued backing up. He watched Otto transforming, his face paling and twisting a bit as his guilt pulled him back toward his true appearance. He saw the boy freeze, then look at his hands and fight the changes, body plumping where it was too thin and ears flattening down again.

"Felice… I'm your friend. Fly me over the fence. Come with me! We're friends! Come with me! Be my friend! Please!"

"No! You lied to me! You're a fairy of darkness, and you lied!"

"Why would I tell you the truth? Do you think I wanted you to know about this!? I hate being this! I hate what I did! Being human has taught me not everything is forgivable in the name of mischief!"

"You're not human, though."

"You will come with me. You will learn to forgive me. You can teach me to forgive myself. I'm begging you! If I stay here, I will die! You have to make me leave, and I'm begging you to come with!"

Felice ran. Otto ran after him. Claws raked flesh. Toes raked gravel. Otto's arms plumped with muscle, and Felice found himself dragged back toward the fence. He squirmed and screamed, but like before, his heart was unsettled, and his mind in no position to translate his emotions to energy. He only watched in horror as Otto's flesh bubbled and moved, hands growing to restrain him and cover his mouth.

"LET ME GO, PLEASE! LET ME GO!"

"PROMISE ME YOU'LL COME WITH ME!" Otto boomed in a voice much deeper and scarier than his usual childish one.

"NO! I WON'T LET YOU TAKE ME! YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND! YOU'RE A MONSTER!"

He didn't mean this, and in the end, perhaps, Felice would have calmed down and simply flown him over the fence, promising never to tell where he went. But this is not that story, and when Otto heard that last accusation, his damnable changeling reflexes fired.

He pulled Felice's wings as hard as he could, and pain exploded in the little fairy's back.

9:00 p.m.

It was a turbulent flight back to Edelweiss. Another humid day left puddles swirling in the ditches and clouds hanging low like tangled wool. Stormy twilight came and went with its eerie greenish-yellow stain. It rained again. It blew again. The thunder and lightning conquered again. Roderich felt that same jittery ice clogging his chest at every swing and swoop of the broom through electric clouds. Eliza's hair went from soft to frazzled. Her soft shoulders grew wet. Her dauntless nature waned and sank under tiredness and cold.

Each hour fell like a stone. Today, Roderich had said. By the end of today, a prophecy would be fulfilled. He'd advance toward his future. He'd make something of himself. He'd become a partner, one of a pair. Hell, for the first time in his life, he could say he loved and enjoyed it like any other normal person on earth!

Long white fingers were gripping the broom handle before him. He let his head roll low and prayed Eliza wouldn't look back and see what an utter fool he was. Dragging her all the way to Liutberht and back. She didn't love him. She was his caretaker, his counselor. It was nothing personal to her. Not when he was a human ostrich, anyway… And not when he'd upset her… somehow.

Fat raindrops splattered on the roof of Edelweiss. The two touched down and dismounted the broom, stretching and groaning at another several hours' worth of soreness. If Roderich thought himself a wreck, Eliza was just as so. Her eyes were all red, and her nose was purple with cold.

"I'll run you a bath and make you tea, and you may stay at Edelweiss tonight," he told her. "It's a petty thing to offer for all I put you through today, but it's all I can think of at the moment. I haven't slept in so long."

She didn't respond, only trudging toward the door and stepping inside. The offer was everything to her, though she scorned her tired brain for admitting so. Roderich, that stone-faced idiot! He could croon and moan of all his woes and never think of fixing them — cheap right down to his inner thoughts. And so of course he'd be aloof and casual, just… using her, and for what? He never explained his mission. He only changed the subject. And to what? Another soreness in his life. Everything must be dark for Roderich! Persist through the darkness! Stand alone and never speak of your pain…!

She'd never spoken of her pain. She never said the real reason why she was on the way to Edelweiss so early in the morning.

She only expected him to notice her worried demeanor and say something.

Which of course he wouldn't. He couldn't. That was not his way. That was not her way.

"We're the same," she spoke into the darkness of Edelweiss. "We can try all we like to express ourselves and accept our wayward emotions, but our expectations are too high. Outside his piano, or my magic, we're stone-faced idiots. And I can't… use my magic… anymore… God, Roderich's in love with me, isn't he… and he's so damn attractive. I'm in love with that stupid, wicked, beak-faced—"

A squeal broke up her revelation. Oh, how she needed another squeal today. But this was a child's squeal. In the shadows, she caught a flash of blond.

"Otto? Why are you up so late?"

The boy duke had already disappeared. She followed his footsteps to the back door — the one leading into the garden. Pushing it open, she found a sopping pool of darkness and thorns.

"I hope that boy is safe. With how Roderich scared him last night…"

She heard Felice's squeaky little voice and followed it, navigating brambles and hedges and flowerbeds until she came to the edge of the garden. Otto sat next to Felice, who was huddled and crying. Otto produced some salve and bandages and reached out to touch the other, but Felice shied away. Otto then brought back both hands and blew on them. They were all swollen and glowing red. He'd touched the iron fence, she realized, and was now too scared to try escaping again.

Tread lightly.

"What are you two doing out here so late? You know there are wolves."

Otto brought his face up. His pupils were pinpricks, and he hissed at her with a mouth full of fangs. With one arm, he grabbed the little fairy, sinking claws into his already-stained chest.

"Otto, no!" Felice cried. "That hurts! Let me go! I don't want to run away anymore! You're a monster! You don't pull a fairy's wings!"

Eliza's heart quickened. If she'd had her wand, she could free the fairy boy in one flick. But she was vulnerable here, without even an iron charm to protect her.

"Otto, let him go. He doesn't like that."

"He's mine!" Otto screeched in a deep voice not his own. "He is my friend, and I'm taking him with me!"

"He is not yours. He's scared. Let go of him. No one is going to hurt you. I promise."

Otto wouldn't listen. He'd revealed himself too much already. He wrapped both arms around Felice and squeezed until his claws raked deeper. Slowly, he backed toward the iron fence. He felt the heat, but he couldn't feel his body. It was all automatic. Backing up. Squeezing. Readying teeth and claws for defense.

Eliza was drawn in, watching the fire. Hearing the screams and seeing the red staining Felice's shirt. She saw two travel bags stowed by the nearest hedge, and she darted forward. Midnight was near, and for once, she was going to express herself.

"You fucking imp! Let him go!" She shrieked, tearing the two of them apart. She shoved Felice back toward the hedges, where he fluttered his aching wings and hovered ten feet in the air. Good. Good. He could fly. He was safe.

A weight pressed on her arm. Something was slithering and squishing and crackling behind her. Felice's face turned to one of pure horror.

When she turned back, Otto was no longer a child. His muscles were swelling. His spine was stretching. His hands were bubbling and broadening and squeezing her tighter than Roderich ever could. In seconds, he'd grown to the size of an adult, soft jaw turned to harsh angles and big blue eyes turned to icy daggers. His shirt ripped and fell away to reveal a hulking, muscular chest.

"Otto… is this who you really are?" She choked out. "You don't have to be like this."

"Tell me, is Roderich in there right now with those knights plotting my demise?"

"No. And what knights?"

"Liar! He knows! He knows I helped kill his cousin and am just wearing his shape! I am not Hermann Otto Beilschmidt von Liutberht! I AM LUDO OF THE RHEIN!"

"So you… you killed Otto…"

The anger in his eyes blanked, but for only a second. Then incredible pain burst through Eliza's left shoulder. The grown man had her pinned against the iron fence, and his teeth were ripping through fabric and flesh, digging for the joint that would tear her arm from her body. She squirmed and fought, but he was far too heavy to move. One hand gripped her shoulder while the other pressed into her chest, claws scraping skin and releasing a warm stream of blood down her front.

"LET GO!"

He only bit harder, hungrier. She punched him straight in the face, and he faltered just long enough for her to spy the curious mound of flashing lights.

"Pixies! Fy and Dy!"

Her plea was in open air just long enough before the clawed hand clamped over her mouth. A swarm of pixies burst from the mound and swirled around Otto, biting and stinging him everywhere with nasty little teeth. Eliza's arm was numb. She felt something crack and pop inside. But just as her vision started swimming, she saw one more opening. Her right arm lifted, her fist flew, and she heard another crack.

She'd broken his jaw. He roared and released her, and she tumbled to the ground, pain taking away all her senses.

10:59 p.m.

Roderich lit the wick in the vial of Disclosure. The scent of lilacs clouded the odors of rain and spit and blood.

Tied to a dining room chair was Otto, once again shrunken down to child size. As the minutes passed, he began to cough, then sniffle and sneeze. His face flushed. His shoulders shivered. And then… just as it was written, he began to transform.

His body seemed to deflate. All the roundness evaporated as flesh sank to squeeze tight over the bones. His fingers stretched to knobbly twigs, skin crawling up to form webbing between them, and his feet shrank to tiny, clawed, shriveled things, equally aquatic in shape. His eyes grew darker, from sky blue to a deep and murky gray. Ears sprang up into pointed daggers that wiggled and twitched.

His ribs swelled to press out against his chest. His stomach sank to a starving pit. His skull of a face grew to consume all that once ate happily. Skin was mottled white and gray. Teeth were yellow. Hair was the green-black of waterlogged weeds. And yet, he was still the size of a child. The most hideous child Roderich had ever seen.

"You're different," Roderich said.

"I'm a river changeling. I was born from a shadow on water. So ugly, I was almost left to drown." He flexed his webbed fingers and coughed some more. "I can't transform. Even my size-shifting won't work. What have you done to me?"

"Nullified your powers. Now, you're going to answer some questions, and then you're getting what you deserve."

"You mean what you deserve."

"No, you're going to be executed. It's a new moon tonight. I think that's the perfect occasion."

The creature struggled in his ropes, whining and shrieking with a voice like water gurgling through mud. The sound could only remind Roderich of his vision, and it sickened him.

"How long have you worn my cousin's shape? Don't worry. You can't incriminate yourself more than you already have."

The creature whined louder, so Roderich flashed the Ring of Liutberht in his face, and he gave his tearful reply.

"Eight years. My whole life, basically. You've only known me, not the real Otto."

"Where is the real Otto?"

"He's dead. He… he was supposed to die that night at Liutberht. My p-patron left him outside in the cold."

"You had a patron? An accomplice?"

The creature nodded. "I was born in the middle of the Rhein, meant to drown minutes later, but I was rescued by the changeling Fritz. He took care of me as best he the best he could. But I just wouldn't grow. Changelings are supposed to grow fast. I... had some defect. I could grow by magic, but it only stretched me thinner. I needed a stable body and a source of true love, or my magic would tear me apart. S-so he took me to Liutberht because he had a grudge against the Duke, Wolfgang. Fritz murdered Wolfgang and took his shape to act as a decoy, while he let me have the shape of Wolfgang's infant son. The switch was on the day of the party.

"I don't know what happened to Fritz. He was so old. I think he was ready to leave this world. He planned to die with the sin that he'd murdered a father and his child, and I would be left in caring hands, to grow up a changeling in the shape of a duke. And I took that mission seriously. I take it seriously even now, even when it's pained me for so many years. I mourn the real Otto. I might even deserve execution for his wrongful demise. But there's no struggle for power. There's no ultimate right or wrong in this world. I may have needed a body for my survival, but you have everything you want, and you spend all your time reveling in your own hatred. You can't live in the moment. I laughed so hard whenever that goofy red-eyed guy came out here. Hell, I laughed when your parents got turned to stone. You thought I was crying. I was laughing."

Despite his words, he was crying, tears splattering all over his quivering shoulders.

"You helped murder my uncle and cousin, and tonight, you almost murdered my girlfriend and kidnapped an Allegrian noble."

"There is no excuse for my behaviors, and I am ashamed of them. But please, please, l-let me live. Let me just… leave Edelweiss. I won't make Felice go with me. I'll apologize to him. I can make myself better. I know this is a wicked world, and I… I'm sorry, Roderich. Let my true form speak as witness. I am sorry."

Roderich closed his eyes. There were no more visions. No more good and evil. No Ulrich and Roderich battling for sovereignty over one mind. How easy it was for man to turn. How easy it was to forget the good and let darkness be the norm. To scour the white until wilted raven feathers consumed every pore. To seek destruction in the name of justice. To feel a lauded, decorated warrior for the victory unseen. To welcome madness and accept absurdity and include what was normal all along and hold it as a high and mighty feat. To forget differences, then remember them, and worship them like they were all saving grace.

All was equal. All were equal. Roderich's mind was completely at ease. The threshold was rushing toward him. He had never been in this positon before. Always simple to see a strange imp find its fate, but to know his own house would be just a bit emptier? It was already emptier. He'd found Ilse dead upstairs. She'd died of joy hearing of the engagement plans. But now, with this creature hissing and snarling and whimpering and walking himself in circles with what he deserved and didn't deserve…

He was a criminal, wasn't he?

Roderich turned to the knights, who were still standing in the foyer, watching the travesty unfold. They stared back at him, as he wore nothing but underwear and a robe.

"Take him outside and make it quick. I'll write up the paperwork in the morning."

Roderich trundled up the stairs, and that was that.

Eliza lay in his bed, too pained to sleep. Her left arm was blotchy with bruises and steeping blood at the bandage on her shoulder. She looked at him and squirmed, but he gently pushed her back into the pillows, wincing at her indecency.

"Roderich, the physician found out I was helping him with my magic. He snapped my wand in half and told me if I didn't leave by sunrise, he'd snap my broom, too. That's why I was on my way here this morning. I had nowhere else to go. I hate feeling so helpless, believe me. That's why I lied to you."

"You didn't want to check on me?"

There was no aloofness in his face. It was all warmth and concern now. What idiots they'd been.

"You were coming to me anyway. I hope you got what you were looking for. Agh…"

She gasped. A bandage had come free, and blood was staining all the pillows she lay upon. Roderich snatched up the black bottle he'd fetched from the Black Study. He uncapped it and poured its fizzy silver contents onto a rag. The stuff singed his fingers with cold.

"This isn't rosewater, but my father used it a long time ago to clean and heal changeling wounds."

"It was like fire in my veins. Do they have venom?"

Her breath was ragged. Roderich unwrapped the bandages as quickly as he could. "No. Just very sharp teeth. You'll be okay. Just hold on."

"I know how to hold on."

"I know you do. You wrapped these tight. Now this is going to sting really bad, okay? I'm going to count to three, and then press it on your shoulder. Ready?"

She nodded.

"One… two… three."

He pressed the rag to her shoulder, and in the same instant, he kissed her.

Her eyes opened wide, but she leaned her head forward, savoring his touch over the pain of the potion. He was so soft and delicate. Each press of his lips to hers was like a gentle puff against her skin. She reached out and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him closer, then trailed her right hand down between the openings of the robe, feeling the humble leanness of his chest and the warm, cakey fluff of his stomach, always hidden beneath that constricting waistcoat.

"You're like a marshmallow," she breathed.

"Do you like that?"

"I love that. Roddy, I love you."

He tucked some frizzy hair behind her ears. "It's Roderich, and I love you, too. It shouldn't have taken this long for me to say that. Was that our first kiss? We've been missing so much."

"Well, we were both waiting for the perfect moment. I suppose if I were going to die, this would be it."

"You won't die. The wound's all sealed. You'll just have a scar."

Her arm was all stained, but otherwise miraculously healing. Her numb fingers started tingling again.

"That creature… is he dead?"

"It had to be done."

"I understand."

Shaking, Roderich then plunged his hand into the pocket of his robe, fishing up the Ring of Destiny. Her left hand was too swollen and numb to accept, so he slipped it on the finger of her right.

"Elizaveta Héderváry, will you marry me?"

She marveled at the diamond, but shook her head. "Oh, Roderich, I can't give you an answer right now. This isn't a day I want to remember fondly. Kiss me until we're both out of breath, but marriage is a heavier subject."

Roderich shifted. "Well, I only told my parents I would ask you today. Whether you'd like to be a permanent part of the ostrich nest is your decision."

She found the courage to laugh at this. Then she leaned forward and kissed him again, sweet and soft. He tasted better the second time, like fresh cream and slippers.

"Get some rest," he told her. "I can sleep downstairs. It's closer to the cake."

"Goodnight, then. Stay safe."

"I will."

He closed the door, refusing to be solemn. For once in his life, Roderich Edelstein was content with everything in the world. The snarled circle within his heart was quieted, and even the dreadful chill of his actions hadn't yet reached the warm part of his brain.

Now, there was another important matter.

He fetched the blue wand from the Black Study and found where Felice lay huddled and fitful in his bed. With a slight poke to the fairy's forehead, Roderich uttered a word:

"Breele."

Then the little one fell into peaceful sleep, all fears forgotten.

~N~

This episode is a combination of so many different things: Descriptions, continuity, call-backs, my first time writing something legitimately steamy, and the second time in the history of my writing career where a skinny guy goes and kneels before his stone-cursed father. Themes, themes.

This was a bear to plan, though! I wrote Rod and Eliza's segments first, then went back and did Feli and Otto's, and I had to make sure they all made sense with each other. Suffice to say, I'm going back on crack until I have the strength to write the next episode. (It's too painful writing this and thinking back to the original Hetafata...)

Thank you to my beloved BFG (Best Fricking German) for the tasteful translation, my rat-wrangling friend for letting me experience broomflight, (simulated by four-wheeling on the highway,) Groove Coverage's version of "Poison" for existing, and Felice for putting up with everything.

Next episode: Once, there was a boy called Anton Carrière...

Published by Syntax-N on FanFiction . Net July 20th, 2020. Follow the rules 'til you can't anymore. Be true to yourself. Know what makes you you. Also, try new things and praise yourself for doing well. And brave the bunker that is American college. And drink much water and eat salad. And don't repost. That is all.