Six weeks later.
Your name is Jade Harley, and you're very pleased this morning! Your mandrakes are looking absolutely lovely. It's late summer and they're coming into full bloom, and oh, you do love the sight of flowers glistening in the dew just after dawn.
Kneeling in the dirt, you trace the outline of a leaf and smile as the dewdrops roll onto your fingertips, bringing your hand up to your eyes to examine the play of the sunlight on the water. It's gorgeous, and the backdrop of the birds just starting to sing makes it even better. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, just enjoying the stillness of your forest.
"Well, Grandpa," you say softly, smiling at the air, "you always said to take pleasure in the smallest things, too, and here I am! Dewdrops on leaves. I guess you were right, though, like usual. The smallest things are just as beautiful as anything else."
He doesn't answer, of course. He never does, and he never will. He's dead. But it makes you feel a little better to talk to him anyway.
You straighten then, pushing yourself to your feet, and wipe your hand on your shirt before you tie your hair back into a messy bun. There's some pruning you've got to do, and it's best to do it early in the morning before it gets too hot outside.
As you bring your hands back down and make your way through the beds to the herb garden, which is the part of your large garden that's most in need of pruning, you murmur the incantation that puts a protective shield around your hands and wrists. The shields are like those thick gloves that your grandfather always had, but with the spell version, you don't have to worry about heavy, hot gloves that get dirty and are just a pain overall. These just protect your hands from thorns and things while still letting air through, which is very nice in comparison.
Pruning is methodical, kind of mechanical work. It doesn't require too much attention, so your mind wanders while your hands find the old buds and leaves and gently pinch them away. Before long, you're humming, and then you're singing, a love song that Jake always sang to you when you were too small to remember much. You remember his voice, though. You will always be my darling darling dear, my darling darling dear, oh, stay here with me. It's a lighthearted, sweet song. It's also probably your favorite song in the world.
Jake used to garden with you, back when you lived in a village with other people, before your magic started manifesting and the war tore everything apart in one awful month. You don't like to think about that month, though. Instead you think about life before that, when you lived with Jake and Grandpa and you were happy.
You ... okay, this is a secret, and by that you mean it's a secret you keep from yourself, but you're ... you're not happy anymore. You like to pretend you are, but ever since you fled and came to live here alone, you haven't been living, you've just been existing, clinging on day after day with nothing really to look forward to other than more of the same. It's why you got so darn excited when you had that premonition about a visitor! A break in the monotony, a chance to actually care about something again, whatever.
Having someone else living with you is nice, you think. It's very, very nice.
It's funny, though. He arrived in the middle of the storm seeking shelter, and then ... well, the next day there had still been a storm, so he hadn't left, and you'd sat and chatted with him some, and he'd admitted he wasn't sure where he was going or what he was doing now. That—well, that sounded a little too familiar, because it was just what you had gone through after fleeing the village. So you told him he could stay here until he figured out where he needed to go, and he nodded and smiled at you, and he's been here ever since.
You've gotten into a little tentative routine by now. He normally doesn't wake up around dawn like you do, so in the mornings you have time for solitude and reflection, but then around midmorning you get breakfast going and haul him out of bed. You eat together and do chores, Dave makes lunch, and then you spend evenings together, just talking and getting to know each other, or sitting in the same room and reading, whatever. Evenings are relaxation time. You both make dinner and do the dishes afterwards, too. Evenings are growing to be your favorite part of the day, honestly.
With a short sigh you move on to the next row of plants. Time passes and you keep singing and pruning and thinking, as the sun climbs higher into the sky. Finally, you're done, and you stand and brush your hands off, letting the spell dissipate. It vanishes with a little shimmer around your fingers and a feeling like you've just put down something you've been carrying for a while, sort of like a bit of relief. You stretch and roll your shoulders, then head back inside.
Breakfast isn't too long after that—actual breakfast, that is, not the quick snack you had before going out into the garden earlier. You're pouring yourself a glass of fruit juice when Dave stumbles into the kitchen, still bleary-eyed from sleep.
"Good morning, sunshine!" you greet cheerfully. Wow, his hair is the epitome of bedhead. You kind of want to get up from your stool and smooth it down, but you feel like that might be kind of weird. Would that be weird? It would probably be weird. You refrain from getting up to touch his hair.
"Sunshine yourself," he grumbles, then looks around. "Where's the food?"
"Wow, getting straight down to business, are we?" you tease, then point at the other side of the counter. "There's some fried eggs and flatbread, plus I picked some apples this morning. We can make apple pie later! Oh, and I juiced some, so there's apple juice—"
"Apple juice?" Well, that caught his attention. You have to stifle a giggle at the way he perks up like a puppy that has suddenly gotten a whiff of some food.
"Apple juice," you repeat, nodding. "Pitcher's behind you, if you want some."
"Of course I want some." He's already turning around to see the pitcher, halfway full of golden liquid, before he even realizes he's not holding a glass, and twirls neatly on a dime to grab one from the dishrack. "It's apple juice, Jade."
"It is," you agree. "Juice that comes from apples. I take it you like apple juice—yeah, okay, wow, you really like apple juice," you start to laugh because he just downed that entire glass in one shot. And now he's pouring more. "Are you just going to drink juice for breakfast?"
"This isn't just juice," he pauses, the glass halfway to his lips, and looks at you. "This shit is like, the nectar of the elder gods or something. Apple juice is in a realm all its own, Jade."
You try to hold in a laugh—okay. That didn't work. You fail to hold in a laugh and instead try to hide a giggle behind your hand, but it's not like that works either, because you're obviously laughing. Dave has a funny habit of making rambling connections to anything and everything, and he doesn't really have a filter, either. The end result is that you end up laughing at almost everything he says.
He looks at you with amusement curving his lips into a tiny grin as he leans back against the counter and takes a sip. "That funny to you? Okay, fine, if you don't believe me, that's cool. Just leaves more for me to drink."
"I didn't say I don't like it or don't want to drink it!" you quickly defend. He's not going to use his godly nectar phrasing to con you out of all your juice! "I think I just am not quite ... I'm not the one of us who's planning to marry it, that's all."
Dave laughs, splutters, chokes, and coughs, and you quickly jump up to thump his back. He rubs at his watering eyes and coughs again and looks at down you with raised eyebrows. "You're just gonna kill me instead, is that it?"
"If the alternative is you running away to elope with my apple juice? I might have to consider it!" you tease, hands on your hips, before you let your posture soften as you raise your eyebrows at him with slight concern. "You okay?"
He waves a hand dismissively and nods, blinking a few times to dispel the lingering wateriness in his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, no worries. I'm a knight, Jade, I've had worse."
Right. Knighthood. You somehow keep forgetting that he used to be a knight, because he's so nice and you like him, even though you thought you hated everyone in the army. You don't like the idea of this laughing, joking and yet kindhearted boy as a warrior who kills people.
"Yeah," you say lamely, a second too late. "Well, go on, get your food, it'll be cold soon!"
He looks at you a bit strangely, but you quickly go back to eating your own meal and studiously avoid his gaze until the moment has passed. That's a conversation you are quite willing to have another day, or preferably never.
Instead, you'll just bring up what there is to do today, and how you're excited to practice some new spells from a book you've been reading, and that will hopefully distract him from the way you don't want to discuss the war, ever. And then you'll go outside and try to enchant things to drown your sorrows in magic, at least until you wear yourself out for the day. It sounds like a great plan to you!
Oh gosh, you are so, so tired right now. Not quite like just plain old sleepy tired, but more like 'I've-been-practicing-spells-all-day-and-I-just-want-to-curl-up-on-the-couch-with-some-tea' tired. The sun has just set and right now the forest is full of purple dusk—you can just barely see the mushrooms in and around your garden starting to glow—and it's lovely, if a bit warm and humid, so you take a moment to appreciate the stars that are just beginning to come out. Turning your face up to the sky you take a deep breath and slump against a tree trunk. Can you just stay here and not get up for several hours?
"Jade? You out here?"
That ... that would be Dave's voice. When you turn your head to look for him, you see him silhouetted in the warm light from the kitchen, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed. He's probably wondering if you're coming inside yet, considering that you've been out here for hours and it's getting dark now and also maybe considering that instead of sitting inside with him like you usually do in the evenings, you're currently lying down against a tree. What can you say? Magic practice takes a lot out of a witch. Especially when she's trying new spells. How were you supposed to know they'd be so draining?
"Hi," you wave wearily, your arm dropping back down across your body with a thump. You frown at it, because it's still supposed to be in the air. Okay... you might have overtaxed yourself a bit too much... Internally you berate yourself for this because no, bad Jade, bad idea, you have to be more careful, because sooner or later Dave isn't going to be here, he'll leave because that's what everyone always does, and you'll have to be the only one taking care of yourself again, and that means you have to have the energy to stand up, but ...
You can't remember where you were going with this mental rant at yourself. You're tired. Have you mentioned that yet? You're really tired.
Dave takes a few steps outside until he's standing in front of you, frowning slightly. You give him your best bright and cheery grin. "Don't worry," you slur. "M'fine, really..."
"Who said I was worried?" he asks, and you blink. Does that mean he wasn't worried? Oh, duh. You're being dumb. Why would he worry about you? He's going to leave soon enough, everyone leaves you. He's just staying here until he gets on his feet again after leaving the army. They're still kind of looking for him, probably. Maybe. Is that how deserting works? You aren't sure. Do they keep looking for you? That's got to be a waste of resources. What do they even do when they find you after you desert? Do they just hang you? What's the point?
God dammit, you think you've just gotten off track again and zoned out. What's going on here?
Oh right. "Shit, that's not—actually, just forget I even said anything," Dave is saying, shaking his head quickly. Then he looks down at you with a frown. "...Jade. Did you even hear a word I just said?"
"No?" you blink. "Wait... sorry, what was the question?"
"Okay. Never mind.," he mutters, kneeling next to you. "That's it, you're coming inside and going to sleep now. Dear fucking god, Jade, you sure did a number on yourself."
The next thing you know, he's scooped you up and is carrying you back into your house and wait no you're not sleepy, you just want tea, and also to lie down and maybe sleep a little. Wait, that's what sleepy means. You whine and reach for the kettle as he carries you past the kitchen anyway, and he stops.
"What is it?"
"I want tea," you say plaintively, then look up at him. "Please?"
His tea-making skills leave a little to be desired, but it's really hard to mess tea up to the point of being undrinkable. You still can't believe he had never made tea before coming to your door, though. What do they teach people in Derse? Obviously not the right things.
"Fine," he sighs, going into the living room and setting you down on the couch. As he straightens and starts to head back to the kitchen, he pauses and then veers to the cabinets in the west wall and pulls out a small blanket throw and tosses it at you, then vanishes through the doorway again. You wrap the blanket around yourself happily and sink into the cushions.
This blanket is a nice blanket. It used to be Jake's, you remember. You like to pretend it still smells like him, even though you know it can't, it's been too long for that to be remotely possible. But as you tug it around yourself like an embrace, if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine he's still here with you.
In fact, Jake's there, just sitting on the other end of the couch, humming as he reads a book. You stretch your feet out and lay them across his lap, and he idly pats your ankle before turning the page. It's nice, and you sigh and relish the moment for a few breaths. It's so light and airy, and this room looks a lot more like the library in your old house than you'd ever really noticed before. "Jade," your brother says then, looking up, and you blink. What is it?
"Jade."
"Mmm?" you hum idly in response, not entirely paying attention because you're staring out the window into the bright sunshine.
"Hey, Jade."
"I'm right here, no need to keep saying Jade, Jade, Jade," you say, except your voice comes out a lot fuzzier and woozy than you thought it would. When you open your eyes, Jake's gone, your living room is too dark to be reading by, and it's small and dark and cozy, and looks nothing like the old library, and Dave is standing in front of you with a steaming cup of tea in his hands.
"Jade. You awake? Good. Here you go," he says, holding it out to you. "I made it with jasmine. You like jasmine best, right?"
"Oh." ... It was a dream. Disconsolate, you quietly take the cup. "Thanks, Dave. Jasmine is good."
He looks at you with pursed lips as though he's about to say something, but decides against it, instead just settling onto the couch next to you. "You're welcome."
You sit silently and blow on the steaming tea for a long moment, staring into the dark liquid and trying not to think about Jake. It's been—it's been a while since you dreamed of him. You think about him a lot, sure, but dreams hurt way more. Suddenly you don't feel all warm and sleepy like you're being weighed down by molasses, you feel exhausted and drained like you've been swimming against a current all day. It's not a nice feeling. Tugging the blanket around yourself doesn't really help, either.
"When are you leaving?"
You're scarcely aware that you've asked the question, your voice low and quiet, until Dave answers, sounding kind of taken aback.
"I—uh, I don't know, whenever you want," he says, fumbling for words. You shrink into yourself and try to figure out how to tell him that that's the thing, you want him to just stay here like he has been, for over a month. You're so lonely, living in this cottage all by yourself. It feels like everyone hates you for something you can't control, and you don't like being alone. You hate being alone. "I could leave tomorrow, if that's what you want—"
"No!" you jerk your head up and pin him with a look of wide-eyed horror. "No, don't—no, that's not what I meant. I'm—god, I'm sorry, Dave, I'm just too tired to think straight—I meant to ask if you want to leave."
"Oh," he says, sounding contemplative. "Well, now, that's quite a different question."
"Yeah," you agree weakly, gazing into your cup again. That dream, short as it was, shook you to the core. You're exhausted, you need to just go to sleep. And yet you're stuck here, thinking about Dave, thinking about Jake ...
You wait for Dave's response with a bit of anxiety but mostly exhausted acceptance that he's probably going to say yes, he does want to go. You're pretty sure you'd be a lot more nervous if you weren't so bone-tired—maybe this is the silver lining of overdoing the spell practice. You're too exhausted to fret.
"Not really, no," he finally says. "If you want me to, I will, but ... honestly, I've got no plans, and it's not so bad, staying out here with you." He shrugs slightly, but you don't care because you kind of stopped listening after he said no, he doesn't want to leave you. He doesn't want to leave!
"Really? Oh, good! I'm glad," you sigh happily, sagging against the cushions. "I'm glad. I didn't want you to go, you know. I like having you around." Maybe you're babbling a bit because you are so tired, but it's okay. Babbling never hurt anyone, right? "It gets kind of lonely living out here all alone, and it's nice having another person, it's been years since I've had a real, actual friend."
"Well, that's good to hear," he says with a little wry grin that tugs at your heart because it's the way a friend grins at a friend, and it's been so long since you've had one of those, "because I kinda like being around too."
"That's ... that's good," you sigh, relaxing even further. You're exhausted and that's definitely catching up to you, though the sadness is at least draining away. It takes you a moment to realize that you just repeated what he said, though. "Wait, you just said that."
"I did," he agrees, seeming amused. You're sorely tempted to stick your tongue out at him, but in the interest of blowing on your steaming tea, you refrain. "You should go to bed soon, I think. Get some rest so you're not parroting me like a, uh, parrot."
You laugh softly, a breathy and kind of weak sound. That dream really got you down, didn't it? Hopefully he'll just attribute your seeming sadness to just being exhausted. You quickly find words before he can ask anything. "Maybe you need to go to bed too! That wasn't one of the usual long metaphorical rambles. What went wrong?"
"Maybe that was intentional," he shrugs. Good, he didn't notice any upsetness on your part. You're getting good at hiding it, even from yourself. After all, you're fine. "Maybe nothing went wrong. What then?"
"Then ..." you trail off, tapping one finger against your chin thoughtfully for a second before you shrug and drop it. "Then I'm too tired for this and concede that okay maybe it was intentional."
Dave grins triumphantly and then leans over and ruffles your hair. "Drink your tea and go to sleep," he instructs, and you laughingly comply.
AN: Yeah ... did I mention that this fic is alarmingly fluffy compared to my usual body of work? Because that's a thing. 0_o.
And here this chapter is, a day early because I'm going to be out of town a while! In fact I'll still be out of town next Friday, so you might have to wait til next Sunday for chapter three. (As I'm typing this I'm imagining the people who will read this when this note is no longer applicable because chapter three will already be out and they'll probs be like ok lol whatevs. ... Anyway.) So yeah, there's your heads-up there!
There will be a semblance of a plot; you can probably see it sort of taking shape here, haha. :P But this fic should (HOPEFULLY) not get too long and complicated. :D
Thanks for reading, and please drop a review - it's cheesy, but believe me when I say that reviews seriously are such good motivation to write! :)