**This Story Contains Tcest**
Pairings: Raphael/Donatello, Leonardo/Michelangelo, Raphael/Michelangelo, Michelangelo/Donatello, Leonardo/Donatello
Info: Alternate Universe, Royalty, Elemental Magic, Action/Adventure, Romance
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Chapter Six: A Long Day
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The path was faint, barely visible beneath the thick foliage covering the forest floor, the line of it buried under a blanket of peat moss and decaying leaves that muffled the sound of Raphael's footsteps. He sniffed, the air smelling of earth and pine and the unmistakable odor of animal musk. This was a game trail, recently used he was sure, which meant there would be water nearby. The question was if it was the river he was searching for or not.
This place, at the moment an ancient forest, belonged to the elemental spirits, and their magic hung heavy in the air, changing and twisting the environment surrounding him to suit their own whims.
There were no maps of this region that he could have studied before coming here. The area was slightly different each time the trials were held, ensuring that the challenges would always be unique and unexpected. So, even if his father had told him what he remembered about his time spent here, it would not have done Raphael any good. He had been warned that this would be his first test and that patience was the key, but patience was never something he had been good at and now his limited supply of it was at its breaking point.
He needed to find his way to the first camp by dusk, or the trials would start without him and he would be disqualified, the only problem was that so far, he felt like he had spent the entire day walking in circles. Huffing in frustration he forced himself to keep moving, an entire lifetime of training had brought him to this moment, and he would not allow himself to fail simply because he got lost.
But this place wasn't making it easy for him. Every tree, every bush, every leaf looked exactly the same and his skin itched with the tingle of magic. The forest was being tricky, trying its best to disorient him, but he knew how to play this game. He was a tracker and a large part of his training had been countless hours spent in the wilds with only a few meager supplies learning how to survive off the land. He would find his way through, he just needed an opening, something to point him in the right direction.
The sun was setting, he couldn't see it through the thick canopy above him, but the quality of the light was enough to clue him in. A low growl escaped his throat knowing it would be easier to get his bearings if only he could see the mountain and the temple at its peak.
At the heart of the continent, where the borders of all four kingdoms met, rising above the mist that concealed the trial grounds from the outside world, was a trio of small mountains, barely taller than hills, and perched atop the tallest one was an ancient temple. The monks who lived there served the elemental spirits and dedicated their lives to the task of watching over and protecting the lands of the trials.
It was a simple and quiet life spent worshipping the elements and, on occasion, redirecting a passing traveler that wandered too close to the magical realm. Generally, the people gave the area a wide berth, the magic alone enough of a deterrent to keep them away. Sometimes, however, an adventurer or treasure seeker would venture too far into the area. The monks did their best, but they were few, and those poor souls that slipped past their notice were often never seen again, and those that were, often came back altered in mysterious ways.
The elemental spirits were fickle and unknowable, and these sacred lands were meant for the royal families alone. Others were only allowed safe passage during the final days of the trials, when the royals and their courts ascended to the temple to witness the coronations of their new kings.
An event that was in jeopardy of never happening if Raphael couldn't find his way through this blasted wood.
Pushing away his frustration he stopped and closed his eyes, feeling the air brush over his skin. The quiet sounds of the forest filled his ears. A breeze rustling the leaves above his head caused the trunks of the trees to creak as they swayed back and forth. The thump thump thump of a woodpecker searching for its dinner sounded in the distance.
His focus reached out further from where he stood, sensing more than hearing the low grunts of the forest deer that used the path he was following. They were calm and far enough ahead to not be aware of him, their quiet snorts and huffs just barely covered by the almost silent rush of water. The river.
Eyes snapping open he took off down the trail once more. He was close, and he was almost out of time. A straight shot was all he needed, but the forest around him blurred as he jogged and he thought he could see the trees moving at the edges of his vision, jumping from side to side, yet when he turned his head, they were stationary. It would have been distracting if he didn't already know it was more than just a trick of the light.
Before him loomed a massive old oak, golden rays from the evening sun slanting through its branches. He carefully scanned the ground, finding the barely visible trail curving around its base and his steps quickened as he followed, leaping over a gnarled root jutting up from the earth.
The moment he touched down on solid ground again a blinding light filled his vision, making him hiss through his teeth. Shielding his eyes against the glare as the light faded, he blinked in confusion at his surroundings. A clearing had suddenly appeared where there had only been trees before. The open sky above him was painted with the setting sun.
He spun suspiciously, eyeing the oak he had just passed. Thick hollyhock bushes grew at its base, stretching out along the edge of the clearing, blocking off the path he had just been following. He blinked through the fog of magic, forcing his brain to accept where his feet had just been over what his eyes were telling him was true.
Shaking his head to clear it, he spotted a wide, sun dappled trail to his right twisting away into the trees. There was a nearby marker, likely left by the monks, indicating that the camp he was searching for would be found that way. He blew out a heavy breath, irked but relieved as he started forward again, moving quickly to make up for the hours he had already lost.
A light whistle was his only warning before something sharp and hollow hit him square on the side of his head with a painful smack. Whipping around with a snarl, sai appearing in his hand with a flash from the light, he scanned the clearing carefully, ignoring the large pine cone rolling away at his feet.
A tittering laugh drew his attention to a nearby tree where a small Aldafay hovered, weighed down by a second bristly cone. Its small thin body was brown and twig-like and its gossamer wings, like transparent dead leaves, fluttered with the effort of keeping it aloft. Its black eyes watched him carefully as its tiny mouth, little more than a slash through the wood of its body, twisted with a mischievous smirk.
It raised the pine cone up over its head.
"Don't ya' dare..." Raphael growled under his breath.
With a high pitched twirp the pine cone flew, Raph easily knocking it aside with his weapon.
The snarl that escaped him then was full of an entire day's worth of agitation at nothing going the way it should have.
"Get outta here, ya' little shit! I don't have time for this!"
Startled by the large turtle's baritone yell, the small fay zipped around the clearing, chittering excitedly, coming to perch on a tree branch before ducking to hide behind a large leaf.
Annoyed but satisfied, Raph spun and took off down the newly revealed trail at a jog. The clouds in the sky were just starting to flare with orange and red meaning he only had a short time left.
The path twisted and turned through the trees, the underbrush growing thicker with each step he took and the further he moved the more the sounds of the forest around him became muffled, like cotton in his ears.
He lengthened his stride as the trail beneath his feet grew increasingly narrow, long leafy branches from the surrounding trees pressing in around him. He watched as thick bushes full of thorny brambles shot up from the roots of the trees, growing faster than he could run, reaching up to tangle in the lowest branches over his head. Within a hundred yards he was encased in a tunnel of leaves. The forest was doing its best to deny him the use of his senses.
Choosing to ignore the claustrophobic weight settling in his chest he pressed on with a determined grimace. This would not beat him; this was tricks and deception. This was laughably predictable. It was almost disappointing. He had expected a far greater challenge.
After another hundred yards he heard the Aldafay following him with mocking twitters. Every few minutes the fay lobbed another pine cone at the turtle as he ran, bouncing them off his shell and the back of his head with gleeful giggles.
Raphael focused on his breathing, clenching his jaw with the effort of ignoring the aggravating little thing. His entire life the mischievous sprites were playing pranks and causing trouble whenever they chose to show themselves, usually at his expense, and his temper almost always got the better of him whenever a fay was involved. But right now, he couldn't afford to stop and deal with the bothersome creature, the sun was setting fast.
Gradually he became aware of the sound of flowing water and picked up his pace, knowing he must be close to his goal. The sprite knew it too and took the opportunity to buzz around his head, its taunting trills echoing in his ears as it tried its best to distract him for a purpose only it knew. He swatted and swiped at it with his hands, arms flailing around him, snarling curses at the damn thing, but he didn't dare stop moving. He was almost there.
Without warning the leaf tunnel broke open, spitting him out into a large clearing at the edge of a wide river, but the sprite didn't give him even a second to get his bearings. Flying right up in front of his nose, its chirping shriek drowned out all other sound. With a rage filled yell he snapped his arm up, hand closing around the infuriating creature in triumph. It struggled in his grip, a pathetic twittering sound escaping through the fingers clenched around it.
Raphael didn't care. He stalked, blind with intent, to the water's edge, where he swung his arm back and threw the sprite as hard as he could at the river. The fay barely caught itself before it hit the water, its delicate leaf wings blurring around it.
"Raph! Leave it alone, it's just messing with you."
He knew that voice. It was familiar and colored with teasing laughter but slow to register and it took a few seconds for the haze of his rage to clear before Raph blinked in recognition at Michelangelo standing beside him. The prince of earth tilted his head, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, like he was expecting Raph to say something, but all he could manage was an irritated grunt.
With a knowing smirk, Mikey reached out, barely tracing down the inside of Raphael's forearm, pausing at the wrist to tickle with small feather light circles. It was a tactic he'd used hundreds of times before to diffuse the prince of fire's legendary temper and, as always, after a few seconds Raph took a deep breath and released his anger in a huff.
Satisfied, Michelangelo released his arm, and Raph's vision cleared enough that he finally noticed Leonardo, standing just beyond Mikey's shoulder. They both still had their travel packs slung over their shoulders.
"Cutting it a little close aren't we, Raphael?"
Raph clenched his jaw on the sharp quip he had ready to go in response to that judgmental statement, like it wasn't obvious that Leo and Mikey had also only just arrived. But his father's voice echoed in his mind, reminding Raph about the importance of remembering his courtesies, especially during the trials; so, with great effort against his base instincts and with a twist of his lip, he only inclined his head in a stiff bow. "Leonardo."
He delighted in the flicker of disappointment that flashed in Leo's gaze. Their entire lives Leonardo had always been pushing at Raph's buttons, toeing the boundary between them, endlessly ready with a snide comment about Raphael's behavior, his attention span, his vocabulary, even the way he tied his robes. It was like Leo enjoyed fanning the flames of Raph's temper the way he would smirk through the delivery of each quiet insult.
For years Michelangelo had been trying to get them to do more than just tolerate each other's company, to the point that Raph was irrationally suspicious of just how much alone time the earth prince could possibly be spending with Leo to have such a high opinion of him.
Normally he would have gladly risen to the bait, taunting Leo, posturing, forcing a confrontation that would have had them both kneeling before their fathers within minutes. But right now, he was too tired to engage with the pompous windbag, he only had the energy for some hot food, a drink or three and the promise of a soft bedroll.
Used to the immediate tension between the other two, Michelangelo refocused their attention by turning to the water. He called to the flustered Aldafay, clicking softly with his tongue, his hand outstretched with concern. The creature fluttered into his palm with a sorrowful pip, burrowing into his fingers and Mikey stroked its tiny back soothingly.
Raphael just rolled his eyes, he knew the sprite was milking for sympathy, and Mikey was always gullible enough to fall for the act.
Close by, at the water's edge stood four obsidian pillars, three with large glowing orbs sitting atop them that provided no light beyond their immediate halo. As the three turtles watched, the orb on top of the fourth pillar, with the symbol of a blazing flame carved onto its front, filled with its own soft light to match the others.
Raphael sighed with relief, finally releasing the last of his irritation. He had made it, with only minutes to spare, and the journey had turned out far more annoying than it should ever have been, but he had made it.
The peace was short lived though, Michelangelo turned back to them and the sprite levied a black-eyed defiant glare at Raphael from the safety of the fingertips carefully surrounding it. It was twittering again, low and fast in what he supposed was their version of an angry grumble, but Raphael had no interest in standing there to listen to it complain. He was turning to stomp off in search of his tent, when a trilling shriek rang in their ears, causing them all to jerk in surprise.
From the gently moving river burst an incensed Sindifay, throwing glittering droplets of water in all directions through the air as it darted toward them. It was twittering and chirping, gesturing angrily back and forth between Raphael and the still pathetic looking Aldafay nestled in Mikey's palm.
They all stood in shock, staring at the enraged creature hovering before them, too stunned to move as it clamored, pointing at Raphael between spins and flips, waving its small arms and splashing their faces with mist from its liquid body.
Mikey snorted, trying not to laugh just before an unexpected orb of water emerged from the river, rising into the air and capturing the tiny fay. Their ears were still ringing as its powerful shrieks were silenced.
They all turned in unison and without a word, there he was, like he had materialized out of the river itself.
Donatello swiftly moved to join them, carefully allowing some of the water from the orb to drain away until it was shaped more like a bowl filled to the brim with water. The sprite poked its tiny head above the surface, looking straight up into the face hovering above it. It chirped, a question in the sound, and Donatello smiled softly.
"Hush now." Donatello said, quiet as he reached toward Michelangelo, pulling the hand still holding the hunched Aldafay forward. "Your friend is fine. See? No harm done."
The Sindifay peered over the lip of the bowl-shaped water, chirping brightly at its fellow, and the Aldafay lifted its head twittering back, the two excitedly launching into a symphony of trills and pips and musical calls.
After a moment, the Aldafay unfurled its leaf shaped wings and fluttered out of Mikey's hand, rising to hover in front of Donatello's face. It raised a twig-like arm in a gesture of thanks and the prince of water smiled warmly, bending his head with respect.
Then the fay spun and offered the same thanks to Michelangelo before it turned one last time, made a rude gesture at Raphael, and darted off into the trees.
Mikey spluttered with laughter, bending at the waist as he howled. Even Leonardo was smiling with a silent chuckle. But Raphael hardly noticed, in fact he had barely seen any of the entire exchange at all. The moment Donatello had appeared coherent thought seemed to have failed him entirely. His attention was captured by the prince of water to the exclusion of all else.
During the encounter with the troublesome fay, the last of the daylight had faded and now the full moon completed its rise above the tree line, casting its silver white light on the water and illuminating the four of them in its ethereal glow.
Raphael felt disconnected, like he was caught in a dream.
Donatello's light, olive toned skin practically shimmered in the moonlight, the soft lavender shade of his tunic and pants absorbing the light even further and drawing the eye to the intricately embroidered waves, rivers and raindrops stitched in the darkest blues and purples across the arms and legs. His pale purple mask crinkled around his eyes as he shyly joined Mikey's laughter, the sound of it a light and throaty rumble that sent a shiver across Raph's skin.
He was suddenly struck by a sense of the familiar and he couldn't help but think that he had heard that sound before. There were hazy flashes of memory, a night under a different full moon, wine and dance and the warm glowing flame of torches at the edges of his vision. It was hard to remember, as drunk as he was, but he had been chasing a presence he thought he knew, at one point his arms had been full of that strangely cool warmth before the crowd had swallowed him up again.
By the time the sun came up the next morning he had only a fuzzy memory and the feeling that there was someone he needed to be looking for. But even though he had spent the following day asking every person he came across if they knew who the stranger had been, he found no answers and eventually the thought faded from his mind... until now... because the someone he had been looking for... no, it couldn't be...
Raphael's entire body went numb as Donatello's eyes slid up to look into his and the truth in those warm brown orbs crashed over him with the power of an ocean wave.
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The Sindifay was twittering with its own laugh and Donatello was happy to hear the sound. His small friend wasn't easy to anger, but when it did find reason, it was like a tiny hurricane taking out any and all in its wake.
The sound of its shrieking was what had drawn him from his tent and, if the miserable Aldafay hunched in Mikey's hand was any indication, Don immediately knew the reason for its displeasure.
Yet, for the first few seconds he had been frozen in place as it raved and his mind had gone blank at the reality of seeing them all there in front of him, real and solid, and an unexpected fear gripped his heart knowing this was it. He wasn't hiding anymore.
After a second he took a breath and brushed the feeling aside, moving quickly to the water's edge as the tiny fay grew more and more agitated. He knew the water would soothe it and wasted no time containing its ire.
Now that the confrontation was over, his friend was calm, swimming a lazy circle in the water bowl Don still held over his palm.
"Satisfied?" He asked quietly, slowly letting the water drain away until it was gone, and the fay took to the air again, spinning and splashing drops of water onto the side of Donatello's face.
The Sindifay tittered, floating back until it could peer directly at the other turtles silently standing there with an unsettling, judgmental stare. Then it turned back to its favored companion and chirped again, leaping away with another spinning splash and quickly diving back into the river where it disappeared into the darkness.
Donatello smiled wistfully, watching it go, then with a nervous intake of breath he raised his chin and acknowledged the three standing beside him.
He looked to Michelangelo first because he was the most familiar, the safest, the one he at least knew, if only barely, and found himself once again pierced by those bright blue eyes, open and honest and brimming with happiness.
"You're really here." Mikey whispered.
Had Michelangelo really believed he wouldn't be? Don actually blushed, embarrassed by the heat spreading across his cheeks.
"Well... you asked me not to be late." Don answered with a shy smile.
The prince of earth beamed, joy lighting his face as he surged forward, wrapping his arms around Don's neck so forcefully that he knocked them both back a step.
Startled by the sudden affection and Mikey's heavy but pleasant weight against him, Donatello released a breathy laugh. He tentatively raised his arms to wrap them around the earth prince, relaxing as he was filled with comforting warmth. The places where their bodies touched tingled and for the first time his magic reached out without hesitation, connecting with Mikey's in an invigorating buzz that made their skin pebble with goose flesh. Almost instantly he was enveloped in a feeling so right and natural, one that he was so starved for, he thought he would never want to let go.
He closed his eyes so he could savor it for as long as possible.
"Alright Mikey, let Donatello breathe." Leonardo finally said when it seemed like Michelangelo had no intention of ever letting go either.
Mikey pouted as he reluctantly stepped back, and Don immediately missed his warmth but tried not to let any disappointment show on his face. They were together now and never again would any of them have to suffer from the separation they had been forced to endure.
Eager to move forward and leave the past behind them, he turned and met Leonardo's gaze for the first time. His face wasn't as joyous as Mikey's, his expression guarded, and Donatello felt a momentary disquiet unsettle him. There was a smile on Leonardo's lips, but Don couldn't help but notice that it stopped just short of his eyes, and he found that he didn't know what to say. For a lifetime he had thought about this moment and now that he was here the words he'd practiced over and over in his mind disappeared.
He looked at them, Mikey's excited smile joining Leonardo's searching stare and it was like the world simply stopped spinning. He tried not to think about how ridiculous he must look, standing there silently chewing his lip, and the longer they stayed there awkwardly glancing at each other the more nervous he became, so that by the time he forced himself to look at Raphael he felt like a lightning bolt striking him down where he stood would be a welcome relief.
It wasn't that he didn't want to look at Raphael, the opposite in fact, but this forest was amplifying their magic in a way that he had never felt before and the sticky sweat that broke out on his skin wasn't helping.
What he felt from Mikey was a grounded comfort, strong and solid and completely opposite from what he felt from Leonardo, whose magic was insistent and wild, but soothing like a warm summer breeze. Raphael's magic was something different all together, stronger than both of the others combined. Don could feel the heat radiating off him, it sizzled on his skin, and suddenly it was if he were back in that darkened grove, firelight flickering at the edges of his vision.
That pull in his chest, the tether straining between them that had so excited and frightened him the night of the mask was now a force that he had to fight to resist. Suddenly the thought of being enveloped in Raphael's arms again was the only thing he could think of and it took all his strength and control to keep his feet planted where they were on the ground. If it wasn't for the water gently lapping at his heels, he wasn't sure he would have been able to stop himself from rushing forward and making a fool out of himself.
Maybe it was the moonlight or the shadows, but Raphael's golden eyes looked like pinpoints of fire burning in the dark, beckoning to him like a flame tempts a moth with its light. He wanted to surrender and let those eyes consume him, he wanted to run and hide to save himself from the agony. He wanted Raphael to say something to break the spell he had cast.
Mikey looked back and forth between them both with delight, finally clapping his hands together so enthusiastically the sharp crack of it echoed across the water, startling them all.
"Alright then, let's get this show on the road!" Michelangelo quipped, sliding between them with a suggestive smile on his face. "I don't know about you guys but, I'm gonna go slip into something a little more... comfortable."
Both Raphael and Leonardo groaned and just like that the tension eased and they all breathed again.
"That's a good idea, Mikey." Leonardo said. "It's been a long day and we should change and clean up, then take stock of the supplies."
Don perked up, eager to contribute, pointing at a small pile of crates near the cold and dark fire pit. "I've already looked through what the monks left for us. It's mostly preserved food, dried fruit and nuts, some root vegetables, if we want anything fresh, we'll need to forage, but they've also included some tools and items that might be useful as we travel..." He trailed off, biting his lip and fidgeting as they intently watched him ramble like they thought he was speaking in a different language.
After a moment he continued, quieter than before, gesturing awkwardly at the river behind him. "I was thinking I might try and catch some fish for us though, so we can at least have a hot meal tonight."
"That sounds good. Thank you, Donatello." Leonardo finally offered with a closed expression before moving swiftly to his tent and disappearing inside. Raphael followed close behind him and Don only just caught the curious look he cast back at him over his shoulder before entering his own tent.
That was it. Their first meeting and he hadn't said a single word he had prepared.
Don was almost shaking. He clenched his hands at his sides to make sure the movement wasn't visible and stared down at his toes. Of course, he had known there would be adjustments and that they would need time to get used to each other, but somehow it hadn't even crossed his mind that simple conversation would be one of the first trials they would be made to face.
The gentle warmth of Mikey's fingers linking with his brought him out of his thoughts. Donatello had almost forgotten that he was there.
"Don't mind them." Mikey said, leaning in so his lips were near Don's ear. "They're just not as dashing and charming as I am. They'll love you once we all get to know each other."
At the soft words Don felt some of the fear draining from his tense muscles and even managed a smile as the earth prince left a lingering kiss on his cheek before darting off to his own tent.
Alone once more and wanting to keep himself busy, Don looked around, spotting an old bucket near the fire pit. Walking over to grab it he tried to steady his breathing, telling himself that the entire encounter had probably been a lot less awkward than it seemed, and honestly, he didn't know what he had expected. At least Mikey seemed to have fully accepted him without hesitation.
He went back to the river with the bucket, raising his hand slightly and walking out onto the surface of the water like it was solid ground. A dozen feet from the shore the water surrounded a large flat rock half hidden beneath the draping branches of an old willow tree, and that was where he crouched, quiet and still, looking intently into the depths. Slowly he extended his hand, fingers trailing along the surface of the water in front of him. Nothing happened for a long moment, then with an impressive quickness, he jerked his arm up with a clenched fist, a heavy orb of water following his movement upward. Within the orb, two large silver-bell trout swam in confused circles.
He carefully placed the fish, and the water they swam in, into the bucket at his side and returned to the campsite.
Leonardo and Michelangelo had already emerged, changed out of their traveling gear into the more traditional tunic and pants they were expected to wear when in camp, and Don slowed his steps to give himself a few extra seconds to observe them.
Mikey was the same as Don remembered him. His sea green skin complemented by fabric in a pale orange tone, embroidered with images of rocky mountain sides, deep golden canyons and vast rolling sand dunes in delicate browns and yellows that trailed along his arms and down the back of the garment. The band of orange cloth wrapped around his face had similar embroidery accenting the openings around his eyes.
Leonardo was more difficult to read as he concentrated on looking through the crates and the items the monks provided for them. The soft light blue of his clothing perfectly matched the leaf green color of his skin, with embroidered clouds and swirls of air in white and silver and grey threads adorning the sleeves and the loose pants he also wore. The silver thread woven into his blue mask glittered as it caught the moonlight.
Reaching the fire pit, he gently set the bucket on the ground, watching the fish continue to swim in circles. Michelangelo appeared at his shoulder with a playful grin, holding a dagger in his left hand and Don eyed the blade with interest.
"You know how to gut a fish?" Don asked.
With a smirk the smaller turtle flipped the knife, offering Don the handle. "Something tells me you're the expert at that."
Amused, Don accepted the knife with a nod, but before he could move, he noticed Mikey's eyes flick to something over his shoulder.
"So nice of you to join us, Raphie. Come on do your thing, it's starting to get cold out here." Mikey teased, motioning to the dark fire pit.
"Don't call me Raphie."
The deep rumble of Raphael's voice pulsed straight through Don and all he could think about was how much he wanted to hear the sound again. Instead, he heard the snapping of fingers from just behind him and flames burst to life right in front of his eyes. Mikey quickly started adding small pieces of kindling to catch and the fire blazed higher, filling the night pressing in around them with a cheerful glow.
Don knelt on the ground next to Mikey, pulling the bucket with the fish close and grabbing a nearby empty crate, flipping it over to use as a makeshift table. From the corner of his eye, he saw Raphael circling the fire, stopping to sit on a log directly across from him. He had a strange look on his face and Don didn't quite know what to make of it.
Of course, he had considered the possibility that they would be wary of him, had expected it even, but in the gloom, with the glare of the firelight in his eyes, it was all too easy to see the shadows shifting across Raphael's face as suspicion and distrust and instantly something primal within him tensed against that reality. That's not how he wanted them to look at him. He wanted to reassure Raphael, reassure them all, that his intentions were honorable, and they had nothing to fear from him. They couldn't start out on this journey any other way.
Don opened his mouth to say something, anything to relieve the uncomfortable pressure smothering him, but then he blinked, and the shadows moved again, changing Raphael's features and suddenly it wasn't a scowl, only a curious frown creasing his brow. Don closed his eyes and breathed deep, trying to quell his overreaction. Allowing dark thoughts like that to take hold would accomplish nothing.
Instead, he focused on what he could see right in front of him. Raphael was bulkier than the other two, more muscled. He wasn't cheerful, like Michelangelo, or as serious as Leonardo, but there was a heaviness to him, commanding and strong while at the same time soft somehow. The tunic and pants he wore were colored in a deep burgundy that enhanced the dark emerald color of his skin, and the cut accentuated his muscled form in a way that was nothing if not completely distracting. Embroidered flames in bright golds and oranges, the same amber color as his eyes, twisted around his arms and thighs in a way obviously meant to draw the eye.
He was handsome beyond all thought and Donatello felt every word in his head dry to dust on his tongue.
"What is the deal with all these gloomy faces?" Mikey asked, looking at each of them with exasperation. "This is supposed to be a happy day! We're here, we're together, we're about to have the time of our lives, and you three are dragging down the whole mood."
He paused, mischief sparkling in his eyes. "I know what we'll do... Donnie's gifted us with these pretty fish, so when we're done eating, I'll throw the bones for each of us. It'll be fun, and there's no harm in finding out what to expect from the next few days."
Don laughed lightly. The throwing of bones was an ancient Sucellen ritual used to tell the future or one's fortune, the thought being that because living creatures were matter and destined to return to the earth after death, that meant bones could be used to see their fate, or something to that effect.
His priests in Varuna had their own form of fortune telling where they would stand near a river and recite an incantation, then they would wait and watch the water carefully. Any objects that floated past were used to predict the destiny of the person for whom the spell was cast.
He was aware that both Agni and Aeolus had similar rituals of their own involving staring into a flame and listening to the wind respectively, but Don had never bothered to study the practices in depth. It was all ridiculous superstition to him, flights of fancy and opinion that couldn't be proven by fact.
However, he did appreciate the effort Mikey was making all the same.
"A word of advice." Raphael cut in with a grunt. "Don't pay any attention to this mystic mumbo jumbo he likes to pull. It's just a trick he uses to get into everyone's pants."
Michelangelo looked offended. "It's not mumbo jumbo! I'll have you know my predictions are almost foolproof, and I certainly don't need any tricks when I want to get into your pants, I might add."
Raphael shrugged and rolled his eyes, conceding the point, and that seemed to appease the earth prince judging by the knowing smirk that settled on his face.
Don dispatched and filleted the two fish while the two turtles continued to lightheartedly bicker for a few minutes over the virtues, or lack thereof, of Sucellen bone reading. Don was quietly enjoying the banter, even though it only highlighted to him how close they were with each other.
During the entire exchange he had been partially aware of, and studiously ignoring, the heavy gaze being leveled on him from the perfectly still and silent leaf green turtle still standing near the crates, but by the time Michelangelo was raising small pebbles from the ground and flicking them into Raphael's face, distracting the prince of fire enough to win their argument, Don couldn't stand the pressure of it any longer.
He finished with the fish and rinsed his hands in the bucket of water before turning to face the prince of air, but before he could speak Leonardo stepped forward into the firelight.
"We're going to need more firewood. Donatello, would you help me gather some?"
It wasn't such a strange request. Donatello had no idea why his hackles were suddenly raised.
He looked at Leonardo, then to the pitch-black forest, then back again.
"In the dark?" He asked simply.
The hint of a smirk ghosted across Leonardo's lips. He pulled a torch from a nearby crate and leaned forward, lighting it in the fire. Then he straightened and waited expectantly, holding the flame away and above his head.
Now it was Don's turn to use a smile that didn't reach all the way to his eyes.
"Of course." Was his short reply.
Maybe it was simply the awkwardness of the day, there was still so much uncertainty it was no wonder he felt a little unsure of himself. It wasn't the dark that was cause for concern, he knew that. He'd spent enough nights wandering the forests back home all by himself to be perfectly comfortable in the trees after nightfall.
Even so, an unease settled in his gut that he resolutely pushed away. It had been a long and emotionally trying day and he needed to try and keep his thoughts positive.
Michelangelo stepped over to him, carefully transferring the fish into a wooden bowl. "Go on." He whispered with encouragement. "The food will be ready by the time you get back."
With no reason to refuse, he gave Mikey a quick, confident smile, and followed Leonardo into the blackness of the forest.
~*~ EotW ~*~
