Viktor's fateful visit was now three months past. Yuuri had (almost) recovered from the near heart attack Viktor had given him, and was no longer living in mortal fear that Viktor would have him killed every time he entered Yuuri's house. Viktor always announced his presence with a unique knock (three slow, three fast) so that Yuuri would know it was safe to answer the door with his magical equipment still on the table.
Viktor, for his part, had never felt so alive. His lessons with Yuuri had opened part of the world to him which he had never known, but had been looking for since he was a child; he finally felt as though the deathly tedium which had gripped him for years had been dispelled, and he could breathe freely again, as a man with a purpose.
The lessons had gone well; Viktor had finished the basic principles, and had progressed to helping Yuuri with potions, and learning the different properties of the herbs that grew around the cottage. Aside from a few accidents in which Viktor had nearly set fire to Yuuri's hut, and one memorable day Viktor had accidentally turned Vicchan an eye-smarting shade of green with a spilled potion, Viktor had progressed rapidly, eager to learn and quick-thinking. Viktor had also had to hide on a few occasions when villagers had come seeking Yuuri's help, as he couldn't be seen spending every day with Yuuri; as soon as someone knocked on the door, Viktor would dash upstairs, and sit silently with his heart hammering until the visitor went away.
Yuuri had, surprising himself and Viktor, taken to teaching as though born to it; he was stern and thorough, but kind, and adamant that Viktor master the basics before he progressed to what Viktor always referred to as 'the exciting stuff'.
As their lessons had continued, their friendship had grown slowly along with their trust in each other. Yuuri found himself longing for Viktor's unique knock on the door; Viktor found himself running the Yuuri's cottage faster every day, to spend more time there before his uncle expected him home for dinner. Luckily for Viktor, he was largely allowed to come and go without restriction, his sole duties consisting of meals with his uncle and the occasional meeting with the King and his advisors.
On the first really autumnal day of the year, when the warm air that had sat over the small wooden hut had been dispelled by a brisk breeze, Viktor arrived at Yuuri's hut with his usual smile in place, and his heart lighter than air (although he wasn't sure why). He rapped on the door in the agreed pattern (knock…knock…knock…knock-knock-knock) and as soon as his fist had tapped the last note, the door had opened, and Yuuri was standing in the doorway, his face lit with a smile that Viktor had begun to see behind his eyelids when he shut his eyes at night (although he hadn't yet understood what this might mean). Viktor's heart accelerated, and Yuuri beckoned him through the door into the now achingly-familiar octagonal room.
Viktor immediately dropped into one of the wicker chairs surrounding the wooden table, and smiled his heart shaped smile up at Yuuri, who promptly dropped the mug he was holding and immediately dived to pick it up, his face flushed with embarrassment. (Yuuri, too, had begun to see the blue of Viktor's eyes everywhere he looked. He had accidentally mixed it on his ink palette the other day when he was attempting to do a botanical drawing of a marigold flower, which was in fact a bright shade of yellow. He wasn't sure what was wrong with him these days).
Yuuri, now with his back to Viktor, stated in his soft voice "Today's the day you've been waiting for, I think".
Viktor leapt up from the chair, his eyes shining. "Really? Today? You think I'm ready?"
Yuuri brought the tea to the table, smiling, and set it down, nodding as he did so. "Today, Viktor, we will start 'the exciting stuff'.".
Before Viktor's mind caught up with his actions, he flung his arms around Yuuri, and pulled him close. Dimly, his mind noted the soft perfection of Yuuri's body in his arms, the sage-and-rosemary scent of his hair, and the way he seemed to fit perfectly into the shape of Viktor's shoulder. And then, he noted that Yuuri had gone utterly rigid, unmoving and shocked, and he realised that he had just utterly disgraced every etiquette teacher that had tried to tell him such passionate displays were only for children and your spouse.
Viktor let his arms fall, stepping away as though Yuuri had burned him. Yuuri simply stood there, still unmoving, with an expression of shock frozen on his face. Though Viktor was unaware of it, Yuuri had just had the most startling realisation.
Shaking himself as though getting water out of his ears, Yuuri sat down at the table, and Viktor joined him, Vicchan curling up to sleep by his feet.
"Yes, today, we will begin mind magic, which is what you think of when you hear the stories your nurse told you." Yuuri's soft voice was compelling as always, and Viktor leaned closer to listen, his eyes wide. "Because mind magic is the most dangerous, and has the most potential to be used for evil, it is the last thing you are meant to learn. You will, once you have mastered it, be able to levitate objects (Vicchan's ears pricked up at the word 'levitate'), summon fire, direct the air, and even touch the spirit world. But first, you have to learn the most essential element of mind magic; meditation."
Viktor and Yuuri both sat, cross-legged, on the rush mats that covered the floor. Yuuri lit a small bowl of cedar and sweetgrass, murmuring to Viktor as he did so "Cedar, for protection from any evil spirits, and sweetgrass for connection to the earth," and allowed the smoke to fill the room.
Viktor breathed deeply, allowing the scent to empty his mind, as Yuuri softly instructed him "You are a lake. You are still water, and any thoughts you have are only passing ripples. "
Yuuri's soft, low voice and the scent of the herbs were oddly hypnotic. Viktor breathed in, out, in, out. He felt his mind emptying of all thought; he pictured himself as the deep, blue pool he had once found when hiking in the mountains near the castle.
"That's right, Viktor," said Yuuri softly, his vice weaving in between the smoke and sinking into Viktor's mind more as a thought than as a sound. "Now, turn your vision inwards. Look within yourself. Every living being has magic, even if they don't know it. Look for the centre of your being, and fall into it."
Viktor allowed Yuuri's voice to lead him, through his mind, into the layers of himself. He felt his external identity falling away, and fell through the water he had made himself to the centre of the lake, where a pool of icy blue fire was sitting, tightly bound into a sphere.
"Now," Yuuri's voice instructed, "call it towards yourself."
Viktor tried. He mentally called the fire towards himself, coaxingly. Nothing happened. The fire was still tightly curled into a perfect sphere. Viktor called more forcefully. Still, nothing changed in the strange liminal space he had created within himself. Growing impatient, Viktor ordered the fire sharply to do his bidding, as he might a recalcitrant chamber made. It flew towards him in a sudden, sharp movement, and-
A sharp crack broke the hypnotic moment, as a small bowl on the shelf near Viktor's head cracked in half and then showered outwards in a spray of earthenware chips. Viktor's head whipped up, startled out of his centre, and he found Yuuri giggling softly. He scowled, unamused.
"I had it! I nearly had it!" he growled, dispelling the last of the dreamy stillness along with the herb-smoke.
"I know you did," Yuuri said, still laughing quietly, "You did much better than me my first time round. I nearly took the roof off the house. You just ordered your magic like a noble might a servant, and that's not really how it works. You have to feel your magic as part of you, like another limb, not as something you command as an inferior." Apparently noticing Viktor's still less than impressed face, Yuuri added "Keep practising. I didn't expect you to get it this first time. You did very well; like any other skill, you'll have to keep practising. However, I'd prefer it if you only practiced here where anything you blow up won't be noticed by a curious servant."
Viktor sighed, acknowledging the justice of this, and stretched out of his sitting position, feeling cramping in his legs. He looked out of the window, and realised that evening was fast approaching. "We've been doing this longer than I realised- I'd better go before my uncle misses me," he said "But, I will be back, same time tomorrow, and I will do better." Viktor's silver eyebrows were furrowed with determination, and he looked as though if all it took to learn magic was willpower, he would be able to move mountains.
Yuuri just smiled his soft smile, and stood up, placing his herb bowl back onto its shelf.
Viktor stood up too, and walked towards to the door. Before he got there, though, he turned, and walked back towards where Yuuri stood.
"Thank you, Yuuri," he said softly, "for everything. You've shown me something that I didn't think I would ever find, and don't ever think I'm not grateful to you every day you spend with me."
Yuuri blinked at him, and reached out a hand to grip Viktor's shoulder, wordlessly.
Viktor found it hard to tear himself away, but he turned and walked to the door, saying lightly as he did so "And tomorrow, I promise not to magically destroy any of your possessions!"
Yuuri's laugh followed him out of the door, making Viktor himself grin as he set out, back towards the castle and away from his secret sanctuary.
If either Viktor or Yuuri had been laughing less loudly, or had been able to tear each themselves away from the other's face, they might have had the sharp intake of breath that came from behind the willow at Viktor's parting sentence, or the quick patter of feet that disappeared into the underbrush at the edge of the forest.
That evening, Yuuri went through his daily ritual of remembrance and love. Rosemary for remembrance, he thought. Sage for healing. Lavender for the spirits.
As the smoke coalesced around his body, he smiled, feeling the warmth where it tickled the bare skin of his neck.
I realised today, he thought to the smoke, finally. It took me long enough. You've been trying to tell me, haven't you?
The smoke swirled and seemed to flicker in front of his eyes, with the pattern of a laugh.
I know, I am slow. It took him holding me for me to realise. But better late than never, and I promise that I will tell him tomorrow. A teacher cannot be in love with his pupil, after all.
The smoke flickered, and then started to dissipate, and Yuuri realised that his time was up.
I love you all, and I miss you every day, he thought. Goodbye for now.
As Yuuri stood up and began to put away the lavender, the sage, and the rosemary, there came a harsh knock on the door. Not the rhythm he was used to. Not the rhythm that he had been hoping for. Vicchan hid under the table, his tail not wagging, his ears flat to his skull.
"Yuuri Katsuki!" came a harsh voice from outside. "Open up, in the name of the King!"
Yuuri's face became bone-white. His hands shook. He knew that this could only mean one thing. He walked slowly towards the door, his feet feeling as though they weighed a hundred pounds, his stomach turning to lead. He reached for the door, and slowly, painfully slowly, pulled it open.
The torches the guards were carrying burned yellow streaks into his eyes after the darkness of his cottage, a dreadful presentiment.
"Yuuri Katsuki," said the guard who stood at the head of the group, his helmet marking him as the senior officer, "You are under arrest for witchcraft, and for the enchantment of the Crown Prince."
As Yuuri was dragged from his cottage, his numb mind could only encompass one thought. Viktor, he thought. VIKTOR.
And finally, his terror wrenching loose from his mind, he screamed.
"VIKTOR!"
On his way home from the cottage that evening, Viktor thought deeply. He thought more deeply than he had ever done before, never having been prone to introspection, and certainly never having experienced the emotions he had done today when he had held Yuuri before. He was abstracted all through dinner, excusing himself early to go to his room and think, his Uncle staring suspiciously at him as he left the table.
He sat in the bay window, staring up at the moon, and the realisation which had begun that day settled into his bones, lying close to his centre like the deepest truth he would ever know.
Oh, he thought. Oh.
Lying back on to his bed, Viktor felt the words he had been suppressing for a month or more finally make their way from his subconscious brain to his thoughts. He pictured Yuuri's smile, the way his brown eyes were flecked with gold, the sound of his laugh and his silence when he worked. The quietness that belonged only to the two of them, found in sun-dappled woods on summer afternoons, and the feel of Yuuri's soft body held closely to the hard lines of his own, a revelation in touch. It's love, he thought, it's love I've been feeling.
He tasted the words in his mind.
I am in love with Yuuri Katsuki.
And the sound of them, the feel of them was so natural and so utterly right, that Viktor knew they were true.
Rolling on to his bed, and lying on his back with his arms flung out above him, Viktor felt his universe align around Yuuri, and felt certainty.
Tomorrow, he thought, I'll tell him tomorrow. A pupil can't be in love with his teacher in secret, after all.
As Viktor fell into a deep sleep, holding his new knowledge close to himself like a blanket against the darkness, he didn't hear the shouts of the guards as the lowered the drawbridge, or as they returned.
In his sleep, Viktor thought he heard his name from a great distance, and rolled over; but he slept on, under the watchful eye of the moon, and didn't wake.