Thranduil and Fai stood by the water's edge. The king stared into Fai's eyes, his pale blue gaze piercing, as though he was trying to search the depths of the wizard's soul. "You offer much for so little a return," the elf said.
It is not so little a return to me, Fai thought, though he would not tell the king that, nor why. "Nonetheless, it is my offer," the mage said.
"Then I accept it," Thranduil replied. "Though, it may prove difficult. Your magic is different from that of my people, from any in this world. It will take time to learn to meld them productively."
"You know already, my lord," said Fai, "that I do not know how much time we have to stay in your realm."
Thranduil nodded. "Then we shall work quickly," he said. "But I shall require time to prepare. We will begin tomorrow. In the meantime," the king continued, turning and walking back to the side table. "I shall fulfil my half of this bargain. Come, sit with me."
Fai felt a chill run down his back. Crossing to the table, he sat down on a padded wooden chair, opposite the king. Setting aside his still full wine glass, Fai waited in eager anticipation. Now he would know.
Thranduil reclined in the chair across from the wizard. "You asked to know," he began, "how the dead can come to live again." He paused a moment to collect his thoughts, twirling the slender stem of his glass in his hand. "The answer," he continued, "in its deepest essence, lies in a most fundamental aspect of a person's being. Each person consists of two parts: body and spirit. If the body is destroyed, the spirit lives on. So it is, at least, among elves and men. Whether dwarves have enduring spirits, I do not claim to know, though it would not surprise me to learn that they do not. In any case, there have been instances when a spirit, after losing its body, gains a new body, thus returning to life." He paused, taking a sip of his wine. "It is said that elves and men are the Children of Ilúvatar, the firstborn and the followers. Of the differences between them, the most substantial is that of death. Elves are immortal. But that does not mean we cannot die. We can continue living indefinitely. But if the body is too badly damaged, the spirit can no longer inhabit it. Spirits of elves who have died are summoned to the Halls of Mandos. After a time, some then return, being reborn into new bodies and continuing their lives."
"With men, it is different," he continued. "But you know this already. Humans die by time alone, even if no harm is done to them. And then, their spirits go elsewhere. It is said that the gift of Ilúvatar to men is that of death and to leave this world."
Fai's heart sank in his chest. He looked down at the table in front of him. "Then it is only elves, and not men, who can return to life," he said, his voice sullen. Silently, he cursed himself. He should have known.
"Not so," said Thranduil unexpectedly. Fai's eyes shot up to look him in the face once more. "I know of one mortal at least who returned from death for a time."
"Tell me," Fai implored him. "Please."
"His name was Beren," Thranduil continued conversationally. Reaching toward the plate of fruit, he took up a bunch of grapes. Fai waited as he plucked one off its stem and popped it into his mouth. The strain of patience was wearing on the wizard, but he endured it. He had no choice but to endure it.
"It was long ago, in the First Age of Middle-earth," Thranduil said after he had swallowed. "The tale is a long one, and told best by poets. But I shall tell you in short the portion of his history that relates to your question. Beren, a mortal, had fallen in love with the daughter of an elven king. He attempted a long and difficult quest in order to gain her hand in marriage, but in the end was mortally wounded. Lúthien, whom he had loved, followed him shortly thereafter, dying of a broken heart. Because their fates were estranged by nature, she lamented in the Halls of Mandos. It is said that her songs so stirred the heart that even the Powers were moved by her plea, and she and Beren were granted new life, to live out the rest of their days as mortals. And it is true – their descendants live among us." His tale completed, Thranduil continued eating grapes.
Fai felt his hope slipping away again. "Is he the only one, my lord, the only mortal to escape from death? This Beren?"
Thranduil tilted his head, glancing at Fai. "If there are others," he said, "I have not heard of them." Fai tried to keep the disappointment from showing on his face, but Thranduil had already caught it. "It is not the answer you desired to hear," the king observed.
Fai smiled sadly. "I should never have expected the answer I wanted to hear." He stood up from the table and offered the king a bow. "Thank you, King Thranduil," he said, "for confirming what I should have already known." He turned to leave.
Fai heard the king push back his chair and stand up behind him. "You should know," Thranduil said, as Fai turned his head, glancing sidelong back at him, "that it has been hundreds of years since any reborn elf has returned to Middle-earth. Humans are not the only ones who must live on without their loved ones beside them."
Turning away again, Fai sighed softly. It seemed the king had guessed the reason for his question. "I will return tomorrow as we agreed, to begin strengthening your barriers," the wizard stated. "Send for me when you are ready."
Fai did not wait to be dismissed but left in the direction he had come, treading quickly up the stairs and out the wooden door. He passed several elves along his way, but he did not make eye contact and kept walking. Fai wandered, not knowing where he was going, nor caring. His companions were likely still at the library, but he could not face them yet. His heart was heavy, and he needed solitude.
After what felt like an hour, Fai stopped walking. His feet had taken him deep underground and into a secluded cavern. It was a grotto lit by a single lantern with a fountain bubbling at its center. Beside the water stood the statue of a woman. In her hand, she held a star. While the statue and fountain were formed of stone, the star she held aloft was crystal. Perhaps it was only a trick of the light, but the gem glowed as though lit from within.
Leaning against a wall, Fai slumped to the ground. Drawing up his knees, he wrapped his arms around his legs, curling himself up as if that could contain the sorrow and pain that were welling up within him and keep it locked inside. It overwhelmed him anyway. Fai wept, bitter tears running down his face, dripping down to be absorbed in the soft fabric of his robe. He wept for his brother, mourning the loss that could not be regained. And he wept for himself, for being foolish enough to believe again that there was a chance.
Fai wept until there were no tears left, then breathed a heavy sigh. He stretched his long legs out before him on the ground. Straightening, he leaned his head back against the cool stone wall of the cave, closing his eyes. His heart still ached, but it was lessened. The wizard could not remember the last time he had broken down and cried like that. Years of hiding his negative emotions had made such cathartic experiences rare. Perhaps he was capable of breaking at least some old habits.
It was peaceful in that dimly lit grotto, silent, save for the fountain's murmur. Fai lingered there a while longer, breathing the still air, before he decided that he really must get back to the others. If he were gone too long, Kurogane might think him kidnapped, and who knew what sort of trouble the warrior would get them into then. Fai almost smiled at the thought. Standing, he wiped his face on the wide sleeve of his robe and tried to compose himself, running his fingers quickly through his hair and straightening the layers of his outfit.
Fai took one last look around the cavern. His eyes lingered on the statue of the woman. The star in her hand cast a comforting glow. He almost felt as if he should thank her for allowing him this time in her quiet sanctuary. Feeling only a little foolish, he offered the statue a small bow of gratitude before turning to leave the cave.
It took some time, but Fai eventually made his way back to the more familiar sections of the Elvenking's domain. From there he found the library again without much difficulty. Hearing the voices of his companions and the elf Saelan, the wizard quietly slipped inside the doorway. Saelan was seated at his desk, taking notes as Syaoran detailed a description of the dragon-like steeds they had encountered in Yama and Shura. Mokona sat atop a pile of books on the desk, chiming in periodic additions to Syaoran's depiction of the beasts. Kurogane sat in a chair nestled between two bookshelves. His sword was propped up against the side of the chair; he had already returned Syaoran's.
Kurogane's eyes found Fai the moment he entered. The warrior seemed always to be keenly aware of the presences of others around him, no doubt a benefit of his training as a ninja, but this sense seemed even more acute where Fai was concerned. Kurogane held the wizard in his deep red gaze, neither speaking nor gesturing. Fai moved toward him almost automatically. Fresh felt grief had left him weary. The mage's thoughts fled back unbidden to early that morning, clasped in Kurogane's embrace. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to fall into the other man's arms again, to seek comfort in his warmth. Fai banished the thought from his mind. Coming to stand beside the ninja, Fai leaned against a bookcase and folded his arms across his chest. He felt chilled again.
"What did the king want?" Kurogane asked softly, no longer looking at him, but facing straight ahead.
Fai had not yet given thought to how he would answer. "He wanted to know why I didn't use my magic to fight the spiders," the mage replied. It was the truth.
"And what did you tell him?" His eyes had found Fai's again.
"That I did not want to be detected by that dark presence I felt," Fai answered, leaving it at that.
"You were gone a long time," Kurogane observed.
"I got lost again on my way back," Fai said. That too was the truth.
Kurogane opened his mouth to voice another question, but by that time Fai's return had been noticed by the others. "Fai's back!" Mokona exclaimed, bouncing over to see him. Fai caught her in his arms and smiled at her. "We've been talking to Saelan about our adventures this whole time," the small creature explained. "He has lots of questions."
"I'm sure you're doing a great job answering them for him," Fai told her. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
"That's okay," she assured him. "Now that you're here, you can tell stories with us too."
Fai nodded and told her he'd be happy to. Satisfied, Mokona hopped back over to the desk. They spent the rest of the afternoon answering Saelan's varied questions about the worlds they'd visited. Fai tried to make a point of offering a few of the answers himself, but his mind kept wandering, distracted and lacking focus. Many times he felt Kurogane's eyes on him, but Fai chose to ignore him. He spent the hours fending off old memories. As evening wore on, Melanna appeared, bringing dinner. Having not found them in their rooms, she guessed rightly that the group was still in the library. Fai picked at his food, having little appetite.
After dinner, the conversation switched gears and Saelan began telling them some of the history of this world they now found themselves in, Middle-earth. He started with an ancient legend telling how the elves believed their world came into being. It was a tale of angels, music, and discord, leading to the moment of creation when their god commanded all the things that had been sung come into being. Following that, he chronicled the early days of the world, during which the Powers and those other angelic beings who descended to the world with them labored to shape it before the coming of the Children of Ilúvatar. When Saelan spoke of Elbereth, who made the stars, Fai remembered he had heard her name before, the previous night in the Hall of Story and Song. The wizard realized that she was the one in whose image that statue in the grotto was made. If that cavern was a shrine to her, perhaps that explained the calm, comforting atmosphere it possessed.
As the hour grew later, Fai, who had taken a seat upon a cushion on the floor, noticed that Mokona had fallen asleep in his lap. Saelan was engaged in detailing for them the lineage of the first elves in Middle-earth. When the elf paused to take a breath, Fai spoke up. "I'm sorry to interrupt, Saelan, but…" Fai gestured toward the sleeping Mokona.
"Ah, yes." Saelan nodded gravely. "I'm afraid I have that effect sometimes."
"I believe what Fai means is that it's getting late," Syaoran explained gently.
Saelan looked up at the clock that stood atop one of the bookshelves. "Yes, of course," he replied. "My apologies for keeping you from your rest."
"It's all right," Syaoran said. "Thank you for sharing your stories with us. I'd like to hear more. Will you be here again tomorrow?"
Saelan's face brightened. "Of course," he said. "I look forward to seeing you again. You're all welcome, of course. Any time."
Syaoran thanked him again, and travelers got up to bid Saelan good night and take their leave. Fai carried Mokona as they walked back to their rooms. She had a talent for sensing what others were feeling. Perhaps that was why she had spent much of the evening cuddled against the depressed mage. He hugged her gently, stroking her soft ears as she slept. When they had all returned to the apartment they shared, Kurogane locked the door closed behind them and set the key on the table in the sitting room. Fai handed Mokona over to Syaoran who took her to the room the two of them shared. The three men took turns in the small washroom before heading to their respective beds. Fai doused the lights of the sitting room and returned to the room he and Kurogane shared.
The ninja was changing into his nightshirt as Fai entered. His back was to the mage. Fai's eyes glanced over the scarred skin that was exposed as Kurogane pulled off his tunic - physical memories of the battles he had fought. The mage then followed suit, slipping out of the robe he had worn that day. Fai's own skin was, for the most part, relatively smooth; his scars were internal. But while Kurogane's wounds had healed, Fai remained damaged. That much was evident, the wizard recognized, by his actions today.
"You've been very quiet today," Kurogane observed, as Fai pulled on his own nightshirt.
"Oh?" Fai asked, wishing Kurogane had not noticed. "Well, perhaps I'm just tired. The last couple of days have been rather tiring, you know." He could still feel Kurogane's eyes on him. That answer had not satisfied him. Holding back a sigh, Fai turned to face the other man.
The two looked at each other for a long moment, Kurogane sitting on the edge of their bed while Fai stood by the closet. The wizard's will began to waver. He could tell Kurogane what he and the king had discussed. He could give in and admit the secret hope he had clung to, the sorrow that felled him when that hope had been dashed. He might weep again to voice those feelings, and maybe Kurogane would hold him again and comfort him. Maybe he would be the one to pick up the pieces of Fai's broken heart. But Fai couldn't keep making Kurogane be the one to clean up his messes, and so he held firm, if only barely.
Finally, Kurogane broke the silence. Heaving a sigh, the ninja turned down the covers and got into bed. "If you're tired, then get to sleep," he said, turning away from Fai.
The mage let out the breath he'd been holding. He walked around to his side of the bed and climbed into it, putting out the bedside lamp. Fai faced out into the darkness, away from Kurogane. Wrapping his arms around his pillow, he buried his face into it and tried to fall asleep.
His sleep, when he finally obtained it, was dreamless, something for which Fai was grateful. When he awoke, he turned over in bed to find Kurogane already gone. Slipping out of bed, Fai dressed himself and walked out into the sitting room. There he found the ninja, seated and sipping at a mug of tea.
"I see you finally decided to get up," Kurogane noticed.
"Sorry, Kuro-pon," Fai responded, coming to sit on the sofa across from Kurogane. "How late did I sleep?"
"You missed breakfast," he replied. "Here." He nudged a plate across the table. "I saved you some of these before the creampuff could eat them all." The plate contained a small assortment of pastries. Kurogane knew Fai enjoyed sweet foods. "The tea Melanna brought this morning isn't bad either." He gestured to a glazed clay teapot that sat on a coaster at the end of table.
Fai picked up the empty mug that stood beside it and poured some for himself. It steamed, giving off a pleasant herbal aroma. "Why didn't you wake me?" the mage asked.
Kurogane shrugged. "No need," he said. "I figured you could use the rest."
Fai took a bite of one of the pastries. Its flaky layers tasted of raspberry. "These are good," he commented.
"The elves in the kitchen would probably give you the recipe if you asked," the warrior suggested.
Fai nodded. Finishing his first pastry, he reached for a second one. Between the sleep and the food, he was feeling almost himself again. The pain of yesterday had burned back down to a dull ache, and he tamped it down, wary that it might flare up again. "Where are Syaoran and Mokona?" he asked, realizing they were not in the apartment.
"They left for the library, hoping to hear more of Saelan's stories," Kurogane answered.
"You aren't worried you're going to miss out waiting around for me?" Fai asked with a smirk.
Kurogane frowned good-naturedly. "No offence to the elf, but I think I've had enough history lessons for a while. And besides, the kid and the creampuff will tell us if anything interesting comes up."
Fai smiled at him, sipping at his tea. It had a pleasant, soothing flavor with something akin to mint. "And what were you planning on doing all day, while Syaoran and Mokona are at the library?" the mage asked.
"You mean besides wait around for you to wake up?" Kurogane retorted, flashing him half a smile to show he was joking. The ninja lounged on his chair, his right arm draped over the back of it. His empty mug sat on the table in front of him. "We've been cooped up in these caves for two days now. I want to see if I can get outside, stretch my legs a bit."
Fai frowned, remembering the spiders and dark enchantments they had faced in the forest. Kurogane caught the look on his face. "This place has barriers around it, right? To stop that dark haze from the forest from getting too close?" the ninja asked. "How far do you think they extend?"
"They're arranged in layers," Fai replied. "The strongest ones are only around the palace itself. As for the less potent ones… I'd say they extend maybe fifteen kilometers at most. And I wouldn't trust those to keep everything out; they're more of a filter than a barrier." He knew Kurogane could handle any giant spiders he might come across, but the dark presence he had sensed in the forest still made the wizard uneasy. "If you want to go, I'd feel better if you took an elf with you as escort. They know the forest best, and we don't want you getting lost and separated from us."
Kurogane tilted his head as he looked at Fai. "You're not coming?" he asked.
"I promised King Thranduil I would speak to him again today," Fai replied, setting down his empty mug. "He said he would send for me, when he was ready. He's been kind enough to let us stay as guests in his realm, so it would be rude to keep him waiting." And I have a deal to keep, Fai thought, though he would not add this aloud. If he told Kurogane that, Fai would have to say for what he had bargained for. The mage was not willing to confront that pain again so soon.
Kurogane's face betrayed suspicion again, but he did not press the matter. Instead, he asked, "What are you going to do until the king summons you?" Fai blinked at him. He had not actually thought about it. "Come on," Kurogane said, standing up. "We'll tell the elves guarding the gate where we're going. Thranduil's messenger will find you just as easily as if you were here in the palace. I told the kid we might be going for a walk, so he'll send them that way if they ask. The fresh air will do you good."
Fai found no reason to argue, and so he agreed, standing and following Kurogane out of the apartment. By now they knew the corridors and pathways that ran near their apartment, and they found the front gate without becoming lost. As they approached, the pair of elves on guard duty looked at them with some confusion. "Good morning," Fai said to them cheerfully. "Lovely day, isn't it?" The gate stood open during the day, and he could see sunlight shining on the stone bridge beyond. "My companion and I were hoping to take a walk outside," he continued. "We're not used to being underground for so long."
The elves looked at each other. One nodded. The other replied. "Very well," he said. "But do not stray too far."
The two men agreed and stepped through the tall doorway, out into the morning. Side by side, they crossed over the bridge. A torrent of water surged beneath them, gaining speed as it plunged downward and curved around the base of the small mountain in which the Elvenking's palace was built. Large beech trees grew on both sides, their roots grasping and clinging at the river's steep, rocky banks. Moss clung to stone and wood alike, thriving in the mist of falling water. Fai looked back as they reached the opposite side. Elegant scrollwork adorned the archways of the gate. Thick stone pillars carved like interwoven branches held up the rocky outcrop above it like a ceiling. Like everything else in Thranduil's halls, it was a harmony of nature and artistry. It seemed these elves did not so much build as reshape the world around them, working meticulously to reveal the beauty and functionality hidden within the stone.
The two men turned left from the bridge and followed a path that ran alongside the river. The weather was pleasant, not overly warm. Midmorning sunlight filtered down through leaves to dapple the path and sparkle on the running water below. Green foliage marked the season as summer. Occasionally, other small paths forked away and ambled off into the forest beyond, but Fai and Kurogane kept to the main road. With the river beside them, they would not become lost. Birdsong accompanied the sound of rushing water. Fai looked for them in the trees, but they were hidden from his sight.
They walked for an hour along the path, alone save for the occasional squirrel. Fai tried to enjoy the time. He pushed away thoughts of Thranduil and what he had promised him. Such things could wait. Kurogane seemed relaxed and at ease. Fai chatted casually with him as they walked about whatever inconsequential thing popped into his head. He guessed at the names of the birds they were hearing, made comments about the lovely weather, and laughed when a squirrel nearly dropped an acorn on Kurogane's head. Things seemed almost back to normal.
As they rounded another bend, the two men began to hear the voices of elves up ahead. They followed the sound a little way up one of the branching paths and found it led to a clearing. About a dozen elves stood on the grass, engaged in various exercises. Most of them were lined up along the left hand side of the field, taking turns at archery, aiming for a set of targets that hung from trees at the other end. A distance away, to the right, two pairs of elves were engaged in sparring matches, one set with long daggers, the other with swords.
Tauriel stood among the archers. She noticed the two men's approach and raised a hand in greeting as she walked over to meet them. "I did not expect to see you outside the palace," she said. It was a casual observation, and she smiled as she said it.
"It was too nice a day to spend inside," Fai replied. "Actually, going for a walk was Kuro-tan's idea."
Kurogane was looking around at the other elves in the clearing. "This is where your people do their weapons training?" he asked, observing the two pairs who continued their sparring.
"This is one of our practice fields," Tauriel answered. "We have several others, including a larger one, northeast of the palace, where we can rehearse army formations. There are also several rooms within the caves that are equipped for archery practice and hand to hand combat." She glanced at the sword that hung from Kurogane's belt. "As the king's guest, you are, of course, welcome to train with us, if you wish. I am sure there is much we could learn from a swordsman such as yourself."
It seemed to Fai that the captain of the guard was much more interested in talking to Kurogane than to him. The mage meandered in the direction of the archers. Fai was no stranger to the use of a bow. The bows these wood-elves carried were clearly well made. He watched as one of the archers drew back an arrow and released. It landed with a thud just shy of the center of the middle target.
"May I?" Fai asked politely as he approached. One of the archers handed the mage a bow and motioned for him to take a turn. Fai studied the weapon in his hands. As with everything these people made, he noticed, the craftsmanship was exquisite. The wood was smooth, stained dark brown, decorated with thin trailing vines of inlaid gold.
Fai drew an arrow from a quiver that stood upright on the ground. He took up his stance, nocking the arrow and drawing it back to his ear. He aimed at the first target and released. The arrow sped from the string and lodged itself into the wood of the target, a handbreadth above its center marker. Taking up another arrow, he shot at the second target, taking it just a smidge to the right. On the third target, he hit his mark, dead center.
"The traveler shoots well," one of the archers observed from behind the mage.
Fai turned and handed back the weapon. "Thank you," he said. "It's been some time since I've gotten to do that. I became quite familiar with archery during Kuro-sama and my stay in the country of Yama. It's a skill I like to keep fresh in case I ever need it again."
Another of the archers looked at him with some confusion. "I thought the tall swordsman's name was Kurogane," she said.
"It is," Fai said. "Kuro-sama is just a nickname. Do your people not use nicknames?" The elf shook her head. "Ah, well, it's a common form of affection in many cultures," Fai explained.
"Hey mage," Kurogane's voice sounded from back at the entrance of clearing.
Fai excused himself from the group of archers. "Coming, Kuro-pon," he said cheerily.
"Messenger for you," Kurogane said as the wizard approached, pointing backward with his thumb toward another elf who had just arrived at the practice field. He was the same who had come to collect Fai the previous day.
"King Thranduil is expecting you," the messenger told Fai. "He would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience."
"I'll come right away," Fai replied. Then he turned back to Kurogane. "Well, I guess I'll see you later, Kuro-pii. Enjoy the rest of your day."
Kurogane caught Fai's gaze and held it, studying the wizard's face. Fai feared for a moment he would begin questioning why the king wished to see him again so soon. Instead, the warrior turned his eyes elsewhere. "Yeah, take care," he said.
The elven messenger had already started back down the path. Fai hurried to catch up with him. Matching the elf's pace, Fai glanced back. Tauriel was engaging Kurogane in conversation once again, but he saw the ninja watching him leave out of the corner of his eye. Fai thought he noticed a hint of concern in Kurogane's expression. It was subtle – he would not want the elves to see it – but Fai recognized it anyway. The wizard sighed. He was causing trouble for Kurogane again, even as he tried not to.
The walk back to the palace was accomplished more quickly than Fai and Kurogane's walk from it. The elven messenger kept up a brisk pace and made no attempt to engage Fai in conversation. The wizard followed, just as silently, several paces behind him. Despite the companion, Fai was alone with his own thoughts again. He wondered, as they walked, how he would keep his word to Thranduil. The elven barriers were structurally complex. He could not simply apply more power and expect it to work. Would the king try to teach him to work these complicated magics himself? Was Fai's power even compatible with the elven spells? The king had said it would be difficult to meld their magics effectively. He must have some plan in mind. Eventually, Fai resolved himself to the fact that he would simply have to wait to find out what the Elvenking would do. He would learn soon enough.
Fai and the king's messenger passed back through the main gate and into the palace once more. Though the wizard could have found his own way, the elf brought him all the way to Thranduil's quarters again. The messenger knocked twice on the large wooden door, as he had done before, but this time he opened it himself, gesturing for Fai to enter. The mage did so and the door was shut behind him. The wizard paused for a moment at the top of the stairs. He straightened his clothes, a tunic of muted heather hue, with long belled sleeves, belted around his slender waist, making certain he looked presentable. Then, taking a deep breath, he hesitated no longer and descended the stairs.
Fai entered into the softly lit antechamber. The king was waiting for him, standing in the doorway of an adjoining room, draped in a rich russet cloak. There were no servants about. The two were alone.
"Come," Thranduil said, leading Fai into the next room. The mage stepped past the pool of water and into a well-furnished sitting room. The elf turned to face him, his clear blue eyes meeting Fai's. "Are you still prepared to do as we discussed yesterday?" he asked the wizard.
Fai nodded, not breaking eye contact. "I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. I will help you if I can."
"Very well," the king responded. "Then we shall begin. You may be seated." Thranduil indicated a place on a long wooden sofa. Fai sat down upon the embroidered upholstery that covered its seat, folding his hands in his lap. "I have given much thought since you left as to how this task may be accomplished," the elf continued. He remained standing, pacing slowly across the floor in front of the wizard, long robes swirling about his ankles. "You do not weave spells as we do, and to teach you how, even if it could be done, would take too long. To use your magic," he stopped moving to look directly at Fai once more, "I shall have to channel it through myself. Is that acceptable?" The king stood gracefully still then, head tilted just slightly, watching wizard to judge his reaction. He reminded Fai of a bird of prey, the way he stared so intently.
"That will be fine," Fai answered him. So that is how it will be done, the wizard thought to himself. Fai would simply supply the power while Thranduil configured the spells. It seemed fulfilling his end of the bargain would not be difficult after all. Fai had magic to spare.
His affirmative answer brought the trace of a smile to the elf's lips. "Then let us begin," he said, seating himself next to Fai on the sofa, an arm's distance apart. He looked Fai in the eyes once again. The hint of a smile was gone. "This may be uncomfortable," the king said. Whether that statement was meant as an apology or warning, Fai did not know. "Are you ready?" he asked the mage.
Fai nodded.
"Close your eyes," Thranduil commanded softly. "And give me your hands." Fai did as he was bid, turning his body toward the king and extending his hands, palms upward. He felt the elf touch him, smooth fingertips tracing over his skin as Thranduil's hands came to rest lightly over his own. He lingered a moment before it began.
Fai could not help but gasp as a small tendril of magic slipped into him via the physical contact. It slid through him like a chill. He had to fight back his initial instinct to recoil. The power felt foreign, invasive. It moved through him, searching. The mage tried to force himself to relax – he had agreed to this, after all – but he had no control over his quickening heartbeat. Finally, the searching tendril found what it had been seeking.
Fai shuddered involuntarily as the king's magic came into contact with his own, but the wizard did not pull away. The tendril became a tether. It seemed to grasp at a small portion of Fai's power, then began to knead at it, coaxing and working it outward. The sensation was unsettling. Fai's breath came in shallow gasps. The tether became a conduit, drawing the wizard's magic in the direction from which it had come. Fai felt it leave him like water, trickling from his fingertips. After a moment, Thranduil halted the flow of power. He withdrew his own magic from the mage's body and removed his hands.
Fai's eyes fluttered open. The experience had left him lightheaded and disoriented. Slowly, his breathing and heart rate resumed their normal rhythms. As the world came back into focus, he saw the king watching him. A faint glitter lingered in Thranduil's pale blue eyes, the afterglow of powerful magic. He had tasted only a little of Fai's power, and now a hunger showed on his face as he looked at the wizard. It was a feeling to which the vampire could relate. The Elvenking closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his visage had resumed its usual impassive serenity.
Fai had had spells cast on him before, and he had cast plenty of his own, but this experience had been entirely different. To have his own power drawn out from the inside by another felt more than strange. It had not been painful. Uncomfortable, as the king had described it, but it was something more than that, something Fai could not quite grasp. The mage felt violated, and yet, he almost wanted more.
"That will be all for the day," Thranduil said, standing up smoothly from the couch. He crossed to a table that bore a carafe of wine. Pouring himself a glass, he took a long sip of it. He glanced back at Fai, then poured a second glass. Returning, he offered it to the wizard. The mage accepted it with hands still somewhat trembling.
Fai raised the cup to his lips. The wine was red, sweet and refreshing. "It will become easier," the king said as Fai drained his glass. The liquid settled into the mage's stomach, warming and soothing him. Of course, that was not to be the end of it, the wizard thought. The king had only taken a tiny fraction of Fai's magic, not nearly enough to be of any real use in the plan he had proposed. Today had been but a test, he realized.
"I believe I understand it better now, your magic," the elf continued, "and how to use it. Come to me again tomorrow, when you have recovered, and we shall begin our task in earnest." He turned from Fai and sipped again from his wine glass, one arm folded across his chest.
"Have you done this before?" Fai asked, setting his empty goblet on an end table.
Thranduil shook his head. "No," he said. "I have not." His gaze grew abstracted, as though he was remembering events long past. "Something similar, perhaps," he amended, a soft, sad smile playing at his lips. "But no, that was different." Fai waited to see if Thranduil would add anything further. He did not. "You may go," the king said, not turning to look at Fai again. "I shall not send another messenger. Return when you are ready. If I am not here, you may wait."
Fai took this as his cue to leave. Rising slowly, still slightly unsteady, he offered the king a bow and left silently in the direction he had come. Fai was grateful the king was finished with him for the day. The encounter had left the mage weary. He made his way unhurriedly back to the apartment that the four travelers shared. Kurogane had left the door unlocked again when they had left in the morning, and Fai opened it to find the rooms still empty of people. The mage lit a single candle from the oil lamp they kept burning near the entrance and took it to the room he and Kurogane shared. He used it to light a bedside lamp, then put it out, setting it on a night stand to let the wax cool.
Fai climbed onto the bed and spread out on his back. He lay motionless, staring up at the stone ceiling. In his mind, he retraced what had transpired between himself and the Elvenking, trying to puzzle out his strange reaction. The discomfort made sense; the elf's magic was foreign to his body. But the other emotions it elicited were not so easy to comprehend. The wine the king had given him was strong and beginning to take full effect on Fai's tired brain. Finally, he gave in, closing his eyes and allowing himself to doze.
Fai awoke later, lying on his side, his head on Kurogane's pillow. Whether he had been asleep minutes or hours, the mage did not know, but the nap seemed to have taken the edge off the strain his encounter with the king had put on him. Sitting up, he stretched his arms above his head. His muscles felt stiff. The mage realized he must have been holding them tensed while Thranduil had been in the process of drawing out his magic. The other travelers still had not returned.
Getting out of bed, Fai crossed to the closet and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. Folding these over his arm, he put out the lamp in the bedroom and left the apartment once more. The mage headed in the direction of the baths. Hot water would likely loosen his stiff muscles. Entering, he accepted a towel and small basket of toiletries from the bath attendant. Several of the larger pools were already occupied. Fai made his way down to the lower right hand side of the room. Walking down an incline, he found a smaller, secluded pool tucked behind a high bank. Fai stooped beside it and trailed his fingers along the surface. It felt hot enough to be effective.
Setting down his basket, along with the towel and clean clothing, the wizard began disrobing. He stepped out of his soft leather shoes and stripped off the stockings he wore beneath them. Undoing his belt and setting it aside, he pulled the tunic off over his head, then folded it neatly before adding it to the pile. Next, the pants. He undid the drawstring that held them up and slipped them down his long legs. These too were folded and placed aside, as were his undergarments. Piling his hair in a messy bun on top of his head, Fai secured it with a clip he had found in the basket.
Finally ready, the mage eased himself down into the pool, slowly lowering himself into the hot water. The basin was smaller than the pool he, Kurogane, and Mokona, had bathed in previously. There was no room for swimming here, but Fai was content to simply lounge in it. Seated upon a wide stone bench that had been built into the pool's outer wall, Fai rested his head against the edge and closed his eyes.
A trailing vine grew along the tall bank at the back of the pool. Its small pale flowers emitted a sweet, calming scent. For several long minutes, Fai was still, breathing the steamy air and letting the heat of the bath seep into his muscles. After a time, he reached up his hands and began massaging the tight muscles between his shoulders and neck. Not long after he'd begun, he felt the water about him stir as another body entered the water. Fai did not need to look to know who it was. "Hello, Kuro-sama," he said, placing a smile upon his face, but without opening his eyes. "How did you find me?" His hands continued working at the back of his neck.
"You're the only other adult human in this mountain." Kurogane's low voice sounded to the wizard's left. "It wasn't difficult. Here, let me do that."
Fai's hands stopped their motion and he turned to look at the ninja. Kurogane's garnet-hued eyes watched him with the same concern Fai had seen in them countless times. He could tell the warrior he was fine, but he knew Kurogane would not believe him. And the offer he was making was too tempting to turn down. Fai lowered his hands and turned his back to Kurogane.
Fai felt Kurogane reach out first to move aside a wayward lock of hair that had fallen across the wizard's back. His hand brushed the side of Fai's neck as he gently lifted the fallen strands and tucked them back up with the rest of the mage's blond mane. This accomplished, he began massaging the wizard's neck and back.
The pressure from Kurogane's left hand was noticeably lighter than his right. Though the mechanical arm was the most advanced model available in Piffle World, it still had its drawbacks. It allowed for an amazing ability of sensing and fine motor control, plenty for most tasks. But when it came to delicate work like this, Kurogane trusted his natural arm more. He did not wish to inadvertently injure the man he was trying to help. Kurogane was as aware of this imbalance as Fai was, and made certain to work both sides of Fai's back with his right hand.
Fai endeavored to make small talk as Kurogane eased the tension out of his stiff muscles. "So," he asked, "how long ago did you get back?"
"Not long," the warrior answered, moving his thumbs in slow circles over the wizard's trapeziuses.
"Are Mokona and Syaoran still at the library?" Fai asked.
Kurogane made an affirmative noise.
"You didn't invite them to join us?"
"They were busy," Kurogane responded, "in the middle of some long poem."
"Ah," Fai acknowledged. "Well, I suppose we'll have to send them to take baths later then. We should all take advantage of this place while we're here. It's quite relaxing." He was silent for a moment before continuing. "Did you walk much farther out in the forest today?"
"Tauriel showed me around to the other training fields, all except the one on the far side of the palace," Kurogane replied, stroking the muscles along the edges of Fai's shoulder blades.
"She seems to have taken a liking to you," Fai teased.
Kurogane made no comment on that. "She invited me to go with them the next time her group goes on patrol," he said.
Fai stiffened slightly beneath the ninja's hands. "And what did you say?" he asked, keeping his voice light.
"That I'd consider it," Kurogane answered. His right hand moved up and began gently working the back of Fai's neck, while his left rested on the wizard's left shoulder.
"If you go too far," Fai cautioned, "you'll get out of range of Mokona's translating ability. You won't be able to understand them."
"You went through six months in Yama not understanding anyone and still fought in battles," Kurogane pointed out.
"Yes, but that was different," Fai said. "I had you."
Kurogane's hands stopped moving and came to rest on the mage's shoulders. "You could come with me, you know," he said softly. "The elves could lend you a bow. You wouldn't have to use your magic in the forest."
Fai considered it. It was almost tempting, the thought of fighting side by side with Kurogane again. Not that Fai truly longed for battle, but he and the ninja paired well together. Things were simpler when they faced a common enemy. In Yama, they had learned to communicate without words. They could do it again.
But there was still Fai's promise to the Thranduil. If his sessions with the king continued to drain him as this first one did, he would not have the energy to fight. Fai shook his head. "You go, if you want. Just promise you'll be careful."
"Aren't I always?" Kurogane asked in response. No, thought Fai, not always. He could think of at least two instances in which Kurogane had acted quite recklessly, but he did not say this aloud. Kurogane resumed Fai's massage, moving down his back. "She said she needed to get approval first anyway," he continued, "with us being the king's guests."
They bathed in silence for a time after that, as Kurogane continued his work on Fai's muscles. Fai sat sideways on the stone bench in the water with one leg tucked under the other. He leaned against the side of the basin, his right arm laid on the stone, his head pillowed on it as Kurogane massaged his lower back. Even more than in his shoulders, this was where Fai carried the physical signs of his stress. The mage breathed in sharply and held it as Kurogane pressed his thumb into a particularly stubborn knot.
"Breathe," the warrior reminded him gently. His left hand rested on Fai's hip, bracing the mage as his right hand kneaded at the clenched muscle. Fai focused on inhaling and exhaling. The knot loosened and Kurogane rubbed the spot more gently before moving on to the next one. It took time, but eventually all the knots were worked out. Kurogane traced his hands gently over the length of Fai's back to check if there were any he had missed.
"I think you got them all, Kuro," Fai said softly. Crossing an arm over his chest, he reached back to catch the warrior's hand as it traced over his shoulder, stopping its motion. They were still for a moment, Fai's hand over Kurogane's, quiet as each waited for the other to make the next move.
Fai did not know what he had intended, grabbing Kurogane's hand like that. It had been a mistake; he was not thinking. A nervous tension coiled itself in the pit of his stomach. The wizard felt his cheeks flush and hoped the warrior would believe it was only the heat of the bath. Fai released Kurogane's hand, turning smoothly away from his touch. "Well," he said, "I suppose we ought to actually clean ourselves while we're here." He loosed the clip from his hair, which fell in a tangled mess about his face. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Fai slipped beneath the water's surface. Staying underwater for a moment, he worked his fingers through his hair, along his scalp, ensuring it was thoroughly wetted.
The mage popped back up and moved to search the basket for a shampoo. Kurogane had beat him to it. "This one," the warrior said, tossing Fai a small bottle.
"Thanks." Fai uncorked it and poured a dollop into his palm. The viscous liquid smelled of violets and lilacs. "I thought Kuro-tan didn't like floral scents," the wizard teased.
Kurogane shrugged. He was leaned back against the edge of the back now, relaxed. It put Fai at ease. "Seemed to suit you," the ninja said casually.
Fai worked the gel through his hair, scrubbing it into his scalp, before rinsing it all out again. As he came up afterwards, pushing wet bangs from his face, Kurogane had another bottle ready for him. "What's this?" Fai asked.
"Conditioner of some kind. It's supposed to help with the tangles," Kurogane answered, hooking one finger through Fai's hair to illustrate its necessity. Fai hated to admit it, but the longer his hair grew, the more maintenance it seemed to require. There were merits to the short lengths at which Kurogane and Syaoran kept their hair. Fai uncorked this bottle as well. He was a little surprised to find that its aroma matched that of the shampoo. Kurogane must have picked these out especially for Fai. The wizard began working the substance through the length of his hair.
"You'll want to leave it in for a bit," Kurogane instructed. "That's what the guy at the front said."
It seemed that Kurogane was going out of his way again to make Fai comfortable. It was the kind of thing that felt good and hurt all at the same time. Kurogane was always there for him. And Fai could never do enough to repay him. Over and over, the mage caused this man suffering, and even if it was not by Fai's own choices, even if it could not be avoided, it still happened because of Fai. Fai could not live without causing Kurogane pain. And yet, still Kurogane stood by him.
The dimensional witch had told Kurogane when he turned Fai into a vampire, that the need for blood would be negated if the wizard could reclaim his lost eye, and with it his magic. The eye had been returned to him, but not before Fai had given up his remaining magic in exchange for Kurogane's mechanical arm, an arm which, despite the updates and adjustments made to it in Piffle World, still caused the ninja occasional pain – a fact that Fai never let himself forget.
Fai's magic increased with use. His eye had been returned to him with far more power than it had originally contained. They had thought that would be enough to make up the deficit. For a time, it seemed that it was. But then the hunger had returned. Kurogane had taken the revelation better than Fai had. He was patient, said he did not mind continuing to share his blood with the vampire. But Fai did not feel the same. He cared for Kurogane more than anyone. He did not want to continue hurting him and leeching off of his kindness.
Perhaps now there was a way. Fai combed through his tangled hair, thinking. His magic increased with use. King Thranduil had need of his magic, and Fai had agreed to help him. If the wizard gave it to him in large enough quantities, it may increase his power enough to finally negate the vampirism. He could free Kurogane of the need to feed him. The process would be exhausting. Fai had never calculated the rate at which his magic grew. Magic was not an easy thing to quantify. He would simply have to use as much as he could and hope it would be enough. Fai glanced back to Kurogane, who was washing his own hair, and made his decision. For this man's sake, he would do whatever it took.
