The buzz of magic on his skin sends a shudder through Andras as he makes it past the wall. He had searched for what seemed like hours for the small crack in it that had been rumored to be there. Thank gods the rumor was true.

Glancing around quickly, he lets out a breath and ruffles the leaves out of his hair, brushing some moss from his shirt and groaning. Alis is going to kill him. The newest housemaid is particularly prickly about stains. Mustering the rest of his strength he uses his fae speed to book it back to the Manor, overshooting the steps a bit and tripping into the door with a thud.

"Fuck!", he shouts, rubbing his face that took the brunt of his clumsiness. Yanking the door open, he glances back at it and runs toward the stairs, turning forward again just as he collides with a solid body, stumbling back. His chest tightens with fear.

He's caught. Squeezing his eyes just for a moment, he slowly peeks up. Sun-kissed skin, long ruby hair, glimmering bronze fox mask.

Lucien. Shit.

That's when the older male's usually soothing voice comes out in a pissed off growl.

"Andras", he growls. "Where the fuck were you? Did you know that Tam sent six sentries to look for you? He was going crazy! Nearly destroyed his study again."

Andras swallows and looks up at him. "I didn't mean to worry him. I'm fine, see?"

"That does not answer my question."

Lucien grabs his elbow and drags him up the stairs. He sags a bit and allows him to, feeling guilty that he worried them.

Lucien brings him right to his room and shoves him down to sit on his mattress before crossing his arms. A move he had seen his father do plenty of times, and he's sure Lucien had seen his own father do as well when he was a boy.

"Cauldron boil and fry me, boy!", he lets out a frustrated groan and goes to rub his face, hands hitting metal before he throws them up in frustration.

"Tell me where you were. Now, Andras."

"I-I...I just went for a walk in the forest. I needed to still my mind and my emotions and...I needed to be alone in silence for a while. I needed...", he trails off, tearing up. Not a complete lie, he did intend that.

Lucien lets out a drawn breath and sits next to him quietly. "Listen, I am sorry about your father. I understand the heartbreak of loss. I understand your need to reel in quiet. But you cannot tell us that you are going somewhere and then completely disappear from radar. You know that—"

"I know, okay!? I know!", Andras snaps, rubbing his own face. "I know", he says brokenly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you all panic. I know all this bad shit keeps happening and I know that time is ticking down, and he's stressed, and everyone is trying to believe that the curse will be broken, but what if it's not? What if we are just trying to fight fate? What if we all end up Under the Mountain, tortured for all eternity and there's nothing to be done? Clearly, the last forty-six years were just a toy. Like dangling a lure in front of a fish before killing it?"

Lucien's face goes ashen and Andras knows that he's thought the same way before.

"Three years is plenty of time. We cannot lose hope now. I have to believe that evil will not reign. I know that I can get very...pessimistic and in that mindset too. But we can't afford that. We can't afford any more self-pity. We have to keep trying. We have...we have a small band of sentries left. They want to go, they want to try. But the losses—", he runs a hand through his long red hair in frustration. "Don't you ever, ever wander away again where we don't know where to find you, understood?"

Andras nods slightly. "I'm sorry. Again. I'll tell Tamlin too."

"You'd better let him cool off for the night. I'll let him know you're safe. I can handle him better than you can. Get those disgusting, filthy clothes off and try to get some rest."

He glances down at his clothes and groans. "Alis will definitely kill me in my sleep if Tam doesn't."

Lucien cracks a smile at that and shakes his head. "Leave them in the hall. I'll take them to her, you've been through enough today."

Andras looks up at him, an eye of russet and one of metal. "Really?"

"Yes. It's a small gesture but...as I said, you've been through enough. It's going to take time to feel okay again, Andy. The pain doesn't leave. It never leaves. But it will lessen over time...because you have to go on."

Sniffing, he shrugs and tosses his shift onto the floor. "Thanks, Lucien."

He inclines his head and leaves the room, taking Andras's laundry for Alis.

Once changed, he lies on his bed and stares at the green and gold ringlets that adorn the molding of the ceiling, letting his mind wander; to his lost parents, his childhood, his friends, the curse, and then Lilly. Lilly...he hadn't known her last name, but her pretty face took up residence in his mind anyway. A pretty face that had no business being there. He was supposed to be mourning, he was not supposed to be having thoughts of a human girl.

That's when he hears loud noises, from down the long hall. Angry voices, growls, furniture moving. Tamlin.

This isn't Lucien's fault or his situation to deal with. He's old enough to take responsibility for himself. Shoving off the bed, he leaves his room and heads for Tamlin's study, grimacing as he hears a vase shatter.

Without hesitation, he heaves the heavy door open, Tamlin pacing near his desk, a feral expression on his face, Lucien leaning on his desk, head hung and looking simply exhausted. The vase that is always on his desk with a few roses in it is next to the desk on the ground, shattered, as are all Tamlin's papers.

It only takes him a few beats to realize it wasn't Tamlin that had shattered it; not him who had swiped everything off the desk in anger, but Lucien. The calm, stoic, sarcastic Lucien. He blinks, hardly able to believe it. But he has been run pretty ragged lately.

"Tam, Lucien", he murmurs.

They both whip their heads towards him and Lucien stands up straight again, chest still heavily with unexpressed fury or sadness, or a mix of both that swirls in his russet eye, a look of brokenness before he remembers to lock it away and steel himself. Ever the emissary.

Tamlin's face softens. "Andras." He goes over to him and grips his arms, looking him over as if to make sure his state of mind hadn't been tampered with—making sure his ex-friend and biggest enemy hadn't made a visit to send a message, and he had been prone to do so every now and then. He also scans for physical injury before he wrenches himself from his death grip.

"Tam", he grunts. "I'm fine. I'm fine. I swear. I just heard you two fighting and I don't want you fighting over me. We've lost too much to turn on one another. You two especially. You're...you're practically like brothers at this point. You need to work together, not apart."

Tamlin and Lucien exchange a glance and Lucien clears his throat sheepishly. "I'm sorry you heard that. We—I..."

"What Lucien means to say is that tensions were high and we both lost ourselves a bit, but it's fine. It wasn't your fault either. But I'm glad you are safe. I'm sure Lucien has scolded you enough for tonight." Tamlin gives him a look.

"Yes. He did. And I wanted to apologize to you too. I never meant to make anyone worry. I'm sorry."

Tamlin squeezes his shoulder and then hugs him crushingly.

"Ooompph", he grunts into his vest. "Tammm."

Lucien snorts a bit and calmness sweeps over him again, replacing the bitter pain that was there moments ago.

He eventually lets go, his smirk disappearing and his face hardening again. "We need to know where you are. All of the younger faeries know this, it's not just a rule for you, Andy."

Andras takes a long sigh through his nose. "I know that. But I'll be eighteen soon. I'm old enough not to be tabbed like a child."

"To Amarantha, you are a prime target. To her, you are little more than a babe. Cannon fodder. She could easily send—", Tamlin visibly stiffens. "You get the idea. Yes, you are old enough to make your own decisions, you are old enough to be an adult. But that is not what her monsters will see if they lay eyes on you. Understood?"

He nods weakly, suppressing the shudder of fear that runs down his spine like ice. "Have they been at the borders?"

Lucien's eye whirrs slightly louder as he avoids his gaze.

Tamlin nods curtly. "Why do you think we are trying to keep everyone under strict guidelines? Why do you think we think the worst when you go missing?"

"I said I'm sorry."

"I know you did, but you'd be more sorry if any of them got a hold of you."

Andras turns to Lucien and squeezes his shoulder. "I am sorry if I made your job harder today. And if I put any of you in a frenzied panic. And if I've made anything more difficult by becoming your burden. I'll try and stay out of the way; make myself scarce, but trackable."

Lucien wraps him in a side hug and squeezes him into a near-headlock. "Not scarce. It's a good reminder that younger fae can still thrive through all of the shit."

Tamlin smirks. "Yeah, how else is Lucien going to be able to play big brother? I think he's sick of being the baby everywhere he goes."

Lucien growls annoyedly and Tamlin lets out a deep laugh.

Andras smirks a bit. "So that's what the scolding was about. He quite enjoyed it. Had the strict dad pose and everything nailed down."

Lucien shoves him and crosses his arms, harumphing.

"See!"

Tamlin can't help but laugh again and Lucien slackens his arms at his sides. "I hate you both", he grumbles, sauntering out of the room.

Andras grins. "Night, Tam."

"Goodnight, Andras."

He rushes down the hall to catch up to Lucien. "For what it's worth...you do make a pretty good older brother. If I ever had one, you'd be a good one."

Lucien's face heats a bit under his mask and he shrugs. "I like to think that I know the difference between good discipline and...and what my father did. And what my brothers did to one another, and to me." His expression becomes cloudy.

"Well, you're better than them, Lucien. A better person, a better friend, a better brother. They never deserved you. I hope you remember that."

He breathes shakily and inclines his head in thanks. "Goodnight, Andy. Try to sleep well, hm?"

Andras nods. "I'll try. You do the same."

Lucien half-smiles, blatant sadness in his eye. "I always try." Dipping into his room, the only one with a clear Autumn color scheme, he closes the door firmly.

Andras slips back to his own room, sinking into the mattress and tugging the blanket over him. He wonders what Lucien suffers all alone in the quiet of his bedroom. All alone in solitude. He wonders if Lucien cries as much as he does in secret. Or even if Tamlin does.

Cauldron knows they have both been through enough to constitute crying every moment of every day. He wonders how he will be able to live for centuries if the worst happens with Amarantha, or if they somehow solve the curse, if more and more bad things will pile up on his shoulders, simply adding heavier and heavier losses and burdens like them. How would that weight not crush him? How does it not crush them? If there is one thing he admires about his friends and guardians, it's the utter strength they have to not let it suffocate them to death; to rip out their fighting spirit. And a sadder thought, if one day it would. If it would one day catch up to them and become so great, they are no longer themselves, but a shell of anguish.

Felling the tears slipping down his face, he doesn't even bother to wipe them as he closes his eyes, begging sleep to come; begging his mind to become as drowsy as his body.