That morning Finn stumbled around the kitchen, unable to shake the fatigue long enough to tidily make breakfast. Harv never did end up coming to her rescue that night. Which, of course he didn't, what was there to rescue her from? As much as she hated to admit it, part of her wondered if she was just looking for an excuse to have him over. She didn't want to think about the hours she spent that night, waiting in the living room while a pot of tea slowly cooled on the coffee table. As she nibbled on her toast, she looked down at the kitchen floor and shivered.
Animal tracks.
Everywhere, the kitchen was covered in dirt tracked in from outside by her friends. With a sigh, she set aside her half-eaten breakfast. Mother would be livid if she came home to a mess. So, she dug out the mop and soap, she just needed to add this stuff to hot water. Should be easy enough.
Harv stared at the white package his mother asked him to deliver like it was a lead weight. He was the only one who knew where Finn lived, so he was the only one who could give it to her, but he really wanted to drop it in the trash instead. Not that his mother's cakes ever deserved to be tossed aside so heartlessly, it was just, it was an engagement cake.
He lost track of how long he lingered on Finn's doorstep in a vain effort to put off the inevitable. The box was starting to get warmed by the heat of the sun, if he stayed out here any longer the icing would melt. So, he knocked on the door as he originally intended, albeit halfheartedly.
Instantly the door flew open, Finn stared up at him wide-eyed in her linen braies and a chamise hastily cut to the length of a tunic. Harv was at a loss for words, his attention torn from his friend's undergarments to the sea of bubbles slowly creeping out of the kitchen and down the hall. Many small animals ran up the stairs for dry ground or from the smell of laundry soap.
"What happened?" Harv brushed some of the bubbles out of Finn's hair. She looked down, glaring at the grass and mumbled something he could barely understand. "Finn?" The minute he tried to get her to look at him, she swatted his hand away.
"I was cleaning the floor!" Red up to her ears, she snatched the box from him. He took in a deep breath, using every muscle in his face not to smile. "Would you like to come in?" She picked at the twine, clearly not wanting to hold a grudge. He nodded, but couldn't ignore to audible splash once his boots hit the tile floor or the whole roses floating amongst the suds. Uncontrollable laughter followed, fueled further by the growing outrage he could feel coming off of Finn. While he doubled over laughing, she glared at the cake filling her arms and opted to kick him in the rear instead. It didn't really hurt, but it was enough to throw him off his balance and onto the flooded floor. "Hah! Serves you right. At least now you won't smell like goat."
Drenched head to toe, he splashed her back in retaliation. The cake, she had instinctively moved out of the way, but the rest of her was soaked. Ever so gently, she set down the gift on the kitchen table before whipping around and kicking water in his face. The fight continued with a symphony of cackling until both were breathless and soaked to the bone.
She sat next to him and whipped her hair back so it clung to her skull in a masculine fashion. It had been a while since he'd seen her hair slicked back like that. She grimaced at her reflection in the water and turned to him with a tight frown.
"It's not fair." Her features softened and Harv found himself mesmerized by the droplets of water that trailed along her temple and onto her shoulder. "It's like pulling teeth just to get close to you. I know we can't be together all the time, but you... you said you'd be here. I waited." Soft patterns of drops down the arms, she was talking passionately again, hands cycling through a thousand gestures. "I know peasants aren't the most... cultured, but you could have called." Something's missing, something's off. "It's common decency not to keep someone waiting." No rings or necklace; she wasn't wearing any of the gifts she'd been given. "Are you seriously ignoring me right now?"
"When were you going to tell me you got engaged?" He couldn't hide the exhaustion or the disappointment. The look she gave him was trapped between nauseous and pained, as if she'd been punched in the gut.
"I didn't-" She took a moment to swallow. To breathe. "I got engaged at, it's not like he actually asked me." She looked away, floundering for an explanation. "You can tell that rugrat 'no' because he's your brother. I... I don't have a say in the matter." She bit her lip and rose to her feet. "Can you help me bail out the water?" He watched her wade into the kitchen with a heavy heart. It wasn't like Finn to give up so easily.
"I did try." He said as she grabbed a pail and a large bowl. "I told him he couldn't marry you, but he just wouldn't listen." The bowl slipped from her hand and onto the floor with a heavy clang.
"You did?" Just shy of hopeful she turned to him, her brow furrowed so tight it might give her a headache. "When did you- And now, of all times-" Ah, so she was trying to concoct some kind of lecture about how his behavior was 'unacceptable'. She retrieved the bowl from the ground as tossed it towards him. "Why?" An accusation more than a question, she tried to keep her emotions in check behind a small pout.
"Because he doesn't love you! He doesn't know anything about you." It seemed like the right thing to say, a reasonable enough response, but she looked disappointed none the less.
"Is that all?" What else did she expect him to say? That he had blindly felt entitled to Finn's casual affection despite constantly rejecting it? Even though the very act of acknowledging it would bring attention to the vast gap between the hazy future they kept stumbling around and what was actually achievable. A reality that he was all too aware of despite Finn's blatant denial of any intentions to deviate from the world of upstanding nobility. Anything beyond friendship was doomed for heartache for the both of them. Regardless of any personal emotions that tainted his decisions, he had at least hoped that Finn would be happy when they were forced to part ways. Watching Finn get strong-armed into a marriage of convivence was dragging something vile through an already aching wound.
"What's with the roses?" He sighed and she looked at the water logged blossoms.
"To cover up the animal smell."
"Is that the only thing you threw in with them the soap?"
"Yes." Another eruption of bubbles poured out of the kitchen. "...and, uh, which soap were you thinking of? Because I may have used all of them. Just in case."
It was going to be a long day.
The longer Harv stayed in the house, helping tidy and shoo out all the animals that had taken to sharing her home, the easier it was to identify the holes missing in her memory. Like chores, everything around the house should be taken care of automatically because of her mother's magical items. What specific things were used or missing escaped her, but Harv assured her she had never cleaned a dirty dish in her life. Quite frankly, she wanted to throw the cleaning all on Harv's shoulder and change out of her wet rags, but every time she got to the stairs her mind would go blank again and she'd wander to whatever needed tidying next. Then Harv would say something to her or she'd catch him in her periphery and she'd remember all over again that she was technically indecent and uncomfortable. The third time this happened she threw the dust rag onto the coffee table with a growl.
"I'm going to go change!"
"Okay..." Harv rolled his eyes as she marched towards the stairs, she paused and looked over at him pointedly.
"Well?" Finn looked at him pointedly. "Come on, I don't have all day." Harv turned toward her wide eyed. She tapped her foot and motioned for him to come with her.
"What do you need me for!?" Of course, she had a semi-rational reason for wanting him in the room, but that hardly should matter. Plus, she was worried it'd sound silly if she said it out loud, or worse he'd try to use it as an excuse to leave.
"What's the point in drying up the floor if you're going to drip all over it?" She grabbed his wrist and started tugging him toward the stairs.
"FINN!" She wasn't strong enough to pull when he resisted, but he couldn't break free from her hold on his wrist. "I can't just go into you're room while you're changing!"
"You've already seen me naked and slept in my bed; what's the big deal? Just turn away if you're going to be a baby about it." Finn huffed. At least now Harv was too flustered to fight her and she dragged him upstairs. "Give me your shirt, I'll put it on the line." Harv crossed his arms across his body.
"No."
"Fine." Finn sighed and turned her attention to walk-in closet. Surely something in here would be somewhat suitable. She stepped around a cluster of newborn bunnies with a shake of her head. Harv turned away from her, face russet up to his ears and looking at the ceiling, not daring to chance catching a glimpse of her in the vanity mirror.
"Why..." He stopped himself, running his question through his head a bit more before speaking. "What were you running around in your underclothes for anyway? Don't you have an work clothes?" Finn's hand froze over the rows of silk gowns in her closet.
"It was the only thing I wanted to wear that was clean." She went further into the closet. "I wasn't expecting company today." She dug out something akin to a night shirt and bloomers. Not ideal, but it was better than a floor length gown.
"You're the only person I know with a closet full of clothes and 'nothing' to wear." Harv glanced down at the vanity table, her rejected engagement ring sitting out of it's box. He picked it up with a frown and held it up in the light. No noble in their right mind would wear it daily, it was too gaudy and heavy. Almost like a child's drawing of what an engagement ring should look like. Through the hole in the ring, he could see the mirror as Finn threw off the damp chamise with a heavy splat. He didn't have time to be embarrassed about sneaking a glance at the pale curve of Finn's back. "Your scar!" He put the ring down and swiveled in his chair in shock. Finn's skin was complete unblemished and missing the distinctive hole that haunted Harv since he saw it. Finn startled and pulled the fresh nightshirt down as quickly as possible.
"What happened to not looking!?" He crossed the room toward her, her fake indignation melting away when she saw how concerned he looked.
"What happened to your scar?" She froze as he brought a hand around her waist and pressed into her abdomen with his thumb, only to meet resistance. There wasn't even a puckering or lump where the old stab wound should be. He looked back up at her, she seemed so lost staring down at nothing in particular, her brow furrowed. She gripped his sleeve tightly, but didn't pull him away. "Finn?"
"I didn't notice it was gone..." She bit her lip. "I can't- I don't remember how I got it, I keep trying but- Harvey I can't remember anything from before we started going to school together." She slipped past his grip and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Say you'll stay?"
"Finn..."
"Even if it's just until mother comes home." She hooked her fingers around his shoulder blades, clinging for dear life. He turned his head, feeling warmth spread through his cheeks and neck. "Please. I don't know what's causing this, but if you're here, I know I'll be okay." He felt her forehead against his shoulder, still unable to look at her, instead fixated on the frame around the vanity mirror. He'd seen it before, that exact design, but he couldn't place where and it felt as if someone was looking at him through the glass.
"Okay..." He didn't know how he'd explain it to his family, but he was certain something wasn't right.
There's a certain smell that metal gives off when it lies close to the skin; a sharp, acrid sort of smell that feels like it lives in the back of your throat. No amount of swallowing or turning the head could get rid of the stench. These were the kinds of things Finn would fixate on when there was nothing to distract his mind. There was nothing to stare at other than the same four stone walls. The rags they forced him into did little to stave off the cold or the grit and slime on the stone floor.
He could live with discomfort. Every time mother's healing spell slipped, his sides would ache and the nausea would set it. Comparatively, having to curl up on rough, freezing stones was nothing. The smell however, that was harder to tune out.
Harv didn't come visit today.
Finn had walked in circles until his feet were sore, tuning out the footsteps of random passersby. The common folk who wished to gawk at the monster in a cage while a serial killer was adorned with roses, he could care less what they thought. It had been pointless to try and convince them of his innocence in the first place. But Harv had wanted to believe there was good in everyone, including Finn. He was just getting swept up in Hevvin's theatrics, magic had a way of doing that to people when they didn't know what to look for. Harv would see the truth for himself soon enough.
But he didn't come today.
Maybe he was going to fight Hevvin first and then rescue him. Or maybe he'd finally decided Finn was too much trouble and washed his hands of the whole mess to save himself. Was he going to side with Hevvin after all? Was he at least okay?
Stale bread and the wrong potion from his mother's collection; that's what Rhodri brought today instead of news of Harv's whereabouts.
The execution was tomorrow.
Finn woke up in a cold sweat surrounded by rosy wallpaper in a fluffy bed. A comical wall of pillows was on his right, something Harv had put up in a stubborn attempt to 'protect her honor'. He peered over the pile where Harv lie fast asleep with a slight snore. Even though it felt a bit silly, he still hooked two fingers around Harv's wrist and sighed as he felt a warm pulse.
He had always been plagued by nightmares, but that one had felt a little too real.
He lied back down and stared up at the ornate ceiling. It was still a few hours until sunrise, which felt too short to fall back asleep, but too far away to properly do anything. Plus, it just seems weird to leave Harv alone in her bed just because he woke up first. He rolled on his side and bit his lip, staring at a wall of pink pillows. Harv was still breathing, he could hear it, it should be enough. Harv would throw a huge fit if he messed with stupid pillow wall and he couldn't think of a believable excuse for why it would topple over. It wasn't worth the headache.
But if only half the wall came down, it'd still be okay?
He just needed to see his face.
So, he carefully pulled five cushions off and cast them to the floor. Just enough that he could see his mess of brunet hair and the swell of his shoulder while he was laying down. And he might have snaked his hand under the pillows to hold his right hand that lay limp by his head.
It wasn't fair.
All the memories he'd been able to dig up thus far had been unpleasant ones. Awful things like almost drowning in the sea, or getting stabbed, or Harv asking if he was actually a walking corpse. Where were the memories he shared with Harv? Even something mundane like going to school together would be welcoming. He'd take any sliver of a sign that Harv's friendship was real and not some kind of illusion.
He squeezed Harv's hand.
The dresses were her's, but not Finn's. This was her room, not Finn's. He didn't know the names of anyone in town and the palace was never a place he could safely go to.
But Harv was here.
And he was warm.
And Finn felt himself relax into the downy bed for a second chance at sleep and hoped when Harv woke up he didn't forget everything all over again.
They both awoke to thunder that shook the house and caused every critter to hide in the shadows. The color had drained from the house and the lamplight took on a green tint. Finn's bedroom seemed unaffected, though darkened by the storm outside.
"Finn darling," Mother had come home, "what did I say about letting stray animals sleep in your bed?" Finn panicked, searching the covers for bunnies or birds, only to freeze. Mother was talking about Harv. The young warrior was flustered, sputtering some nonsense apology in the presence of the witch. Finn tossed a shirt his way, if nothing else, to give him something to do instead of falling all over himself.
Mother's appearance was quite frightful, with a ghost-like complexion and a sallow face. Her eyes were the wrong color, too red. A long, taloned hand lifted one of Finn's golden curls as she stared at Finn's front with distaste.
"Who took it?"
"No one took anything mam." Harv gestured to the mess on the bed, though his flushed complexion did little to help his case.
"My staff." Leenan let Finn's hair fall in his face, looking unamused. "Who took my staff."
