Double feature part II! This chapter is my love letter to Gracie before she Grexits the plot for a little while. I don't really have anything else to say here. I guess I'll use this space to once again encourage everyone to please leave comments whenever and wherever you can. It doesn't even have to be on my stuff, as long as you're doing it somewhere for somebody. Honestly. It's an intimidating time to create, between GenAI and just about everything else that's going on. Please take every possible opportunity to encourage your fav creatives to keep creating. I'm trying really hard to convey how much I mean this in a far broader sense than just my corner of AO3. While my readers have been so generous to me across multiple platforms, I like to think I'd keep going even if that wasn't the case. But to some, a kind word may be the difference between keeping on and giving up. That's valid too. We are inherently social creatures. It's not about praise. It's about connection.

So, how about this — if this story does something for you, consider paying that energy forward. Maybe go leave some love on a piece of art you admire, or another story here you've been following. Dealer's choice. Fandom has always been about community and we need that more than ever. Yes, I do repeat this sentiment pretty often. I'm openly brainwashing all of you into making fandom a happier place. Hope that helps :)

There's my latest soapbox out of the way, for whatever it's worth in this economy. Now back to our irregularly scheduled MikaKurda activities.

Chapter 6: For You, In Sweetness

Long may you reign

You're an animal

You are bloodthirsty

Out window panes, talking utter nonsense

You have no idea

TWO DAYS TIL SCHOOL

HALL OF RUSH FLON'X — ROYAL ARMOURY

MIKA

'You know I adore you, but I can't wait til we can finally have a proper conversation', he used to tell Gracie back in the early days, usually while sitting in front of a stack of abandoned paperwork with her snuggled up in his arms. 'I don't know what to do with all the crying and assorted sounds. No offence. I know you've got a lot to say and you're doing your best.'

Then she'd giggle up at him, and he'd wonder if she already understood everything he was saying and was just biding her time til she felt ready to talk back.

Now that she spoke as clearly and concisely as most adults (more than some), it seemed inconceivable to reflect upon an era where he wished time could pass faster.

"So… can I hold a sword?" Gracie asked. They were standing side-by-side in front of his expansive (and surely expensive if it was possible to price any of this) weaponry locker.

Mika glanced down at her, one eyebrow raised."You know we have a rule about that."

Gracie hit him back with the same scathing look for which had no one to blame but himself. "Yeahhhh… but you said today is the last day we have together before school, so we could do whatever I want."

"And you said you wanted to look at everything in the armoury."

"And now I want to hold one. You said whatever I want."

"And Daddy is going to amend that rule accordingly."

"What's a mend?"

"To amend any sort of protocol means to adjust or update it after it's already been established. In this case, the rule would remain we can do whatever you want, and the amendment would be with the exception of blatant safety risks."

He was pretty sure she followed all of that. But considering she was still five and a half, he wasn't surprised when she threw her arms up in exasperation and huffed, "So can I hold one or not?"

Mika sighed. Pondered over that for a few seconds. He might've stood his ground had he not made the beginner's mistake of glancing down at her face. Or more specifically, those enormous, soulful, imploring eyes.

What was it Kurda once told him, during that fleeting era where they got along more often than not? You have the fortitude of a wet paper bag when it comes to Gracie. It's as baffling as it is endearing.

"A rule is a rule. Daddy neglected to include exceptions when the rule was established, so currently it stands as-is." Said Mika at last. "I can propose an amendment to it, but I can't codify it unless it gets voted through. And unfortunately, you're the only person here to vote on it."

"Ohh." Gracie wrinkled her nose in concentration as she tried to work out the response that would yield the result she desired. And Mika figured if she could make sense of the word salad he'd served her, she deserved to hold the damn sword. After a brief pause, she looked up again and said, "Well, I vote no. Sorry, Daddy."

"Damn. Amendment rejected, I guess. Which sword do you want to hold?"

"Ummm…" her hum trailed off into thoughtful silence as she stared up at the array of swords hanging off the wall, running her fingers back and forth against her chin like a little scholar. Clearly she didn't think she'd get this far.

They stood there admiring the view for a moment or two. Mika absent-mindedly scritched the top of her head as she leaned into his leg while contemplating her decision. After another moment, he prompted, "Would you be open to a suggestion?"

"Yeah."

"The middle one is my favourite. And it's not too heavy. You might even be able to hold it up all by yourself."

That was all she needed to hear. She nodded in affirmation and he carefully took the sword — his deadly and dearly beloved custom Valderstein blade which Paris had gifted to him upon passing his Trials of Initiation. The blade was classic steel and the hilt and pommel were adorned with rare black diamonds; a subtle but magnificent touch. The blade was covered by a thick leather scabbard tooled with Mika's initials.

"It's not even that sharp." Gracie reported upon closer investigation.

"Well, that's the scabbard. It stays on whenever the sword isn't being used." Mika explained. "It protects the sharp part — the blade —from getting damaged, or from damaging something or someone by accident."

"Can I see the blade?"

"I'll take the scabbard off so you can look at it, but you have to stand back. You are not to come anywhere near it unless the blade is covered. That's a rule we won't be amending. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Promise?"

"Yes!"

"Okay. Take six big steps backwards. I know how good you are at counting… that's perfect. Now stay right there. Don't move."

Once Gracie had retreated to what Mika felt was a safe distance, he pulled the sword from its cover and held it aloft, slowly rotating it in his hands so she could watch the torch light refract off the flawlessly polished steel edges. Her eyes followed it with a level of fascination he'd only ever seen her express towards a fresh pack of strawberry Fruit Gushers and maybe one or two truly exceptional books.

Great. Now she's going to drop out of school to become a fucking mercenary. Kurda's going to kill me in my sleep.

Mika spent several minutes demonstrating the correct way to hold it and a few basic maneuvers while she observed with rapt attention. To her credit, she kept her promise and remained at the agreed-upon distance, even though the self-restraint was clearly taking a toll. He knew she had an affinity for shiny objects, but he'd (misguidedly) banked on her getting bored by now.

Once he'd returned the weapon to its protective casing and triple-checked the security strap, he invited her to stand close to him once more. She trotted over readily. He held the sword by the base of the covered blade, leaving the leather-wrapped grip free for her to hold in both hands. Her eyes lit up as she seized the grip with all her might. Mika carefully lowered the pointy end to the floor and let it rest there, since he wasn't confident she possessed the physical strength to keep the whole thing aloft on her own. At last, he released the scabbard and stepped back so she could remember this moment as the time she held a real sword all by herself.

She stared down at the hilt for a moment or two, then her gaze darted back up to Mika with great purpose.

"Can I have one?" She asked seriously. Then, being the junior strategic genius she was, she added, "Please?"

"I'll have one made for you someday." Mika assured her without hesitation.

"When's someday?"

"When you stop getting taller. Don't give me that look. I'm not making excuses. A custom piece is supposed to be somewhat proportionate to your body. Helps with balance. It'll be worth the wait."

He meant it. He'd have it made by the same legendary swordsmith who'd crafted most of Mika's custom weapons over the decades. He didn't care if she ever used it, because why would she need to? It would be symbolic. If she wanted to place it on the mantle of her future house in a few decades, great. Even if it simply hung on this wall with Mika's collection for the rest of time, it would still be hers alone. Tangible proof that she'd been here — and part of her always would be.

It took longer than anticipated, but her arms eventually got tired from holding up the heavy weapon. As Mika set it back in its designated bracket in the armoury, she asked completely unprompted,

"Daddy? Where's Daddy?"

"I'm right here in front of you."

It wasn't even worth the try. Gracie answered that with a long-suffering deadpan stare; a silent but clear implication he'd just insulted both their intelligence.

Mika recalibrated.

"Kurda's probably in his office, working on blueprints for the next big cavern reconstruction. He's very good at that, and he needs to finish before we leave the mountain."

Her smile wilted a little. "Oh… okay."

"You'll see him tomorrow, though." Mika reminded her. "You get to spend the whole day with him."

"I can't wait to tell him I got to hold a real sword all by myself."

Fuck.

"Can you make a point of mentioning the scabbard was on and I was supervising you the whole time?"

"Why does that matter?"

"Never mind. What do you want to do next?"

THE NIGHT BEFORE SCHOOL

GENERAL SMAHLT'S PRIVATE STUDY

KURDA

"So, you see, our home is riiiight here in this area. And we're going to take a short trip over here—" Kurda traced his finger in a clear line from Vampire Mountain's appropriate location on the world map to that of the boarding school nearby. Nearby was relative. Kurda preferred looking at it from a global perspective like this. It made the distance seem minimal.

Gracie's eyes followed the path of his finger like the little scholar she'd soon be. "Why isn't the school on the map?"

"This is a map of the globe; there wouldn't be room to draw things like buildings." Kurda explained. "This is designed to show you the whole Earth at a glance. What shape is Earth, again?"

"Round!"

"Good girl. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

"I won't."

"And if your new friends ever ask you where your home is, you say—"

"I live in a big stone house in the middle of the woods."

"In which country?"

She told him which country.

"That's my Honey Bee." Kurda smiled and ruffled her hair. Then he added as an afterthought, "They'll have telephones there at your school. Do you remember how we ordered room service at the hotel last year?"

Her eyes went wide and her mouth curved into a greedy grin. "I get room service at school?"

"Well, I was thinking you'd use it in case you ever needed to talk to us, since Uncle Arrow was kind enough to gift us a phone that works anywhere in the world."

At about two and a half minutes, yesterday's conversation in which Mika showed the phone to Kurda had been the least excruciating interaction they'd had in months.

Gracie just peered up at him, brow furrowed. "Ohhh. So I don't get room service at school?"

Kurda rolled his eyes, pulled her into his arms and tickled her while she shrieked with laughter. "Of course you don't get room service at school, you little gremlin! You'll walk down to the dining hall and eat at the tables with all your friends. Just you wait, it's going to be wonderful."

If nothing else, Gracie was beyond excited to embark on her grand adventure. Kurda was certain she hadn't fully absorbed the full scale of which her life was about to change, even though they'd spend months psychologically preparing her as best they could.

They sat together for a long while. Kurda at his desk chair, and Gracie on the tall stool he kept

there so she could colour while he worked, as long as she promised to keep her crayons on her own page. But that didn't matter now. Kurda had no intention of getting any work done. The schematic diagrams for the next renovation project would need to be complete before he left the mountain, but he'd come back for them after Gracie went to sleep. He couldn't bear to waste a second of her waking hours here, now that so few of them remained.

She practiced writing her alphabet in upper and lower case one last time. Nailed it. Then she drew an artistic rendering of what she felt Paris and Seba's future wedding should look like. No, there was no new news on that front. The only supporting evidence was still that one covert smooch she allegedly witnessed that one time. But Kurda promised to stash the picture away and gift it to them if the occasion arose.

Her next work of art was a stick figure family portrait. She was in the middle while Mika and Kurda stood on their spindly legs beside her. A horse-sized Lovely loomed above all of them, taking up almost half the page.

"That's beautiful, Honey Bee. Perfect likeness. Especially your Other Daddy's eyebrows. Don't forget to sign the bottom so everyone knows it's yours."

She added her initials with a confident, well-practiced flourish — GSVL.

"Very good." Kurda murmured. "I'm so proud of you."

That was when his voice cracked. He knew it was inevitable, but it was still so early. He thought he had more time than this. Tears pooled in his eyes. He wiped them, but not so quickly that Gracie would get the impression it was a bad thing to cry.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" She asked, eyes wide with concern. "I can make you a different picture if you don't like this one."

"No, no. I love the picture. These are happy tears. Well, a little sad because I'm going to miss you so very much. But mostly happy, because you're in for the most wonderful adventure. And I love you with all my heart. Don't you ever forget it."

Bless her heart, she wrapped her little arms around his neck and began to pet his hair, offering comfort in the same manner as she'd always been comforted when something hurt. Then, as if she had a sixth sense that pinpointed the exact moment Kurda lowered his emotional guard in favour of living in this moment, Gracie looked him dead in the eye and said very seriously,

"Daddy?"

"Gracie?"

"Why aren't you and Daddy friends anymore?"

Kurda came dangerously close to groaning out loud at that. Gods damn it all, you impossibly intuitive little ball of stardust. Isn't it enough that both of us love you independently from each other?

He countered her blunt inquiry with a more cautious one of his own: "…What gives you the impression we aren't friends?"

She side-eyed him and shrugged, as if she felt it was too obvious to state. "We used to do stuff all together. And now we don't. Why don't we?"

"We're doing something together right now." Kurda reasoned. "Look at all we've accomplished today. We went exploring the waterfalls and had a picnic outdoors. Then you practiced your letters and made me a beautiful piece of art to add to my collection. I think it's my favourite yet."

"But why isn't Daddy here too?"

"You spent all day with him yesterday, remember? You got to handle a deadly weapon and then he took you to the sporting hall so you could arm wrestle the trainees during their lunch break. I heard you beat them all, by the way. You had so much fun. Too much, perhaps! Just remember you'll have to play gently when you make friends your own size."

"Yesterday was a lot of fun." Said Gracie, shrugging again. "But it would'a been more fun if you were there."

"I didn't think you'd want me there for that." Kurda reasoned, gently tucking a wayward strand of gold behind her ear. "You were so busy. Besides, you and I had already made our plans to spend all of today together."

As always, the ensuing deadpan glare was a little jarring coming from a kid that age. But this time, Kurda felt it was warranted. He'd already been pierced in the heart by the point she was making. He was insulting both their intelligence by playing dumb.

"Okay, okay." Kurda sighed, acknowledging the inevitable. "We have one more night together. Let's find your Other Daddy and force— er, invite him to enjoy it with us."

All Gracie saw was the smile on Kurda's face. All she felt was security and warmth as he took her little hand into his and helped her down off the stool. She didn't have to know he was cringing inside, or that she'd given him no choice but to do the one thing he'd sworn off doing.

Just as Mika would immediately realize he had no choice but to finally accept an olive branch from Kurda — as long as Gracie was the one to deliver it.

AN HOUR LATER

MIKA

Mika almost didn't bother going back to his room for the night. He'd been oscillating between the Hall of Princes and the sporting halls (albeit not the stupid bars) for hours, trying in vain to keep busy and distracted. To his profound misfortune, there just wasn't an awful lot that needed doing. Paris was to be on duty in the Hall while the rest of the mountain slept, and rejected Mika's offer to trade places.

("I empathize with your directionless anxiety, but I fear it is becoming contagious. You don't have to go to bed, but you can't stay here," were Paris's exact words).

Eventually Mika gave up and fucked off. He happened to cross paths with Seba on his way down the corridor. Seba had a bottle of wine in hand, a spring in his step, and was on his way to where Mika had just come from. No wonder Paris had been so insistent on having the room to himself.

At least someone would have a good night.

Mika detoured down to the waterfalls to partake in his nightly decompression ritual. But not even the frigid depths of the underground pools couldn't numb the ache in his core knowing this era of his life was over. Only when it became difficult to move his frozen arms and legs did he tread slowly back to the edge and pull himself out. He'd stoke the fireplace back in his room, force himself to eat something, and finally curl up in his coffin where he'd inevitably lie awake til Gracie came banging on the lid to tell him what he already knew too well — it was time for her to leave.

With every step Mika took, he had to remind himself that today was still Kurda's designated day with Gracie, just as yesterday was Mika's. But maybe just one quick hug before bed, she won't mind— No! Don't be fucking selfish. Kurda deserves to remember today without you and your dark clouds hanging over it.

Mika stoked his fireplace and had begun to boil a kettle of water. Then he heard a soft knock on the door that separated his room from Gracie's. He opened the door at once. There she was, beaming up at him with that wicked little grin.

She held a folded piece of paper out to him. He took it from her and peered at the words scrawled in magenta crayon. It looked like Gracie mostly managed the project on her own, but there were a few misspelled words that had been crossed out and rewritten above in Kurda's more sophisticated hand:

Daddy — you are invited to a goodbye party!

Where: Daddy's Room!

When: Now!

Who: Us!

Love, Gracie

A wave of weary relief and renewed affection washed over Mika. He scooped Gracie up in one arm and kissed her forehead.

"So?" She pressed expectantly. "Are you gonna come to my party?"

"I'll never turn down a party, especially yours." Mika assured her. "But the location states Daddy's room. I'm sure you can see how that's somewhat open for interpretation?"

"I am very obviously referring to my room." Kurda called from his portion of the suite. A moment later he appeared in the doorway, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "Why on earth would I invite you to a party in your own room?"

Mika looked down at the invitation once more, then back to Gracie, and finally back to Kurda. Kurda was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

"I guess." Mika replied bluntly. "Let's do it in my room anyway."

"Are you sure? My intention wasn't to impose. We —" Kurda gestured pointedly at Gracie "— just thought we ought to spend the last night with all three of us."

"I'm sure I'm sure." Mika shrugged, gesturing towards Kurda's room. "Your proposed location just doesn't have much going for it."

Kurda glared. "It's your storage cavern."

"My point exactly."

Kurda retrieved the tray of snacks he'd assembled in the kitchen earlier, and followed Mika back to his end of the suite.

"I'm going to sit on your desk, you know." Kurda pointed out.

Mika sighed. "Figured as much."

So Kurda did just that. And Mika, by force of habit, almost joined him there too. It felt second nature at this point. But he stopped himself and settled in his chair instead. Last year's kiss had been the result — no, the consequence — of an unbroken pattern of complacency and crossed boundary lines. He knew that now. All he had to do was keep the pattern from starting again.

Gracie sat on the desk beside Kurda, nibbling biscuits and berries off the snack tray Kurda was holding. Meanwhile, Kurda wasted no time reaching for the jar of cashews Mika kept on his desk and adding them to the mix.

"Someone may as well enjoy them before they go stale." Kurda reasoned. "Remember, I know you. You like the idea of cashews —"

"More than I actually like them, yeah, I know. Have the whole thing for all I care. Once we leave tomorrow, I won't be back here for a long time."

"Daddy going to school too?" Gracie asked.

"No, I've figured out everything I need to know at this point in my life." Mika told her seriously, earning an eye roll from Kurda. "After we get you settled in, I'm going travelling with Aunt Arra. You remember her, right?"

"Yeah. Aunt Arra was fun."

An eye roll wasn't enough for that. This time, Kurda offered his input by way of a derisive snort.

"I did go to school a long time ago, though." Mika added, pointedly ignoring Kurda. "I loved it. There was always a new challenge. And I had so many friends."

It was true. Mika had fond memories of his school days. It was the only place he didn't have to compete against his five older brothers for a scrap of recognition from their father. Compared to his immediate family, his classmates and teachers were easy work.

"Did you go to school too, Daddy?" Gracie asked Kurda. He maintained his smile, but his eyes turned sad as he reflected upon an upbringing that had been so very different from Mika's.

"The world was different when your Daddies were little." Kurda explained. "Nowadays, all children are expected to go to school. But back then, it was only for children whose families had a great deal of money. And mine didn't."

Sidebar: while it's true that education has become much more accessible since the eighteenth century, Gracie will be attending a school that does in fact cost a great deal of money. Favoured by high-level politicians, business tycoons, and celebrities, Mika and Kurda certainly won't be the only parents to drop their kid at the doorstep and disappear back into their private, unconventional world. Such was the strategy to all this. They'll just feel guiltier about it than all those other sorts.

"So… you didn't go to school?" Gracie pressed, wide-eyed with disbelief. "But how did you learn how to read?"

"I tried as hard as I could to learn all about the world as I grew up. School isn't the only way to learn, although it certainly helps one get started. As for reading, my mother taught me." Said Kurda. "She was one of the smartest people I've ever known. You remind me of her."

"I do?"

"Yes, you do. She would have adored you."

"Can I meet her?"

"I'm sorry, Honey Bee, she passed away a very long time ago."

Gracie frowned. While the concept had been explained to her in the past, it was unclear how well she understood the finality of passed away.

"Oh. Okay." She shrugged and moved on to the next order of business. "Daddy?"

She was glancing back and forth between the two of them, so they replied in unison: "Yes?"

"I packed Lovely's suitcase too. We can't forget it, okay? He's so excited for school. Aren't you, Lovely?"

Mika hadn't noticed the godsforsaken tarantula had been sitting in her sweater pocket the whole time. He nearly flinched off his chair as she reached in and pulled him out. Meanwhile Kurda pressed his lips together while his mental gears visibly whirred behind his eyes. Neither he nor Mika had prepared an advance strategy to deal with this.

"Oh, dear… Gracie, darling…" Kurda ventured, not without a great deal of courage, "I'm afraid the school doesn't allow animal companions. Lovely has to stay here with the other spiders."

In a split second, the party took on the atmosphere of an extraordinarily tragic funeral. The ensuing hurricane of emotion suggested this was the moment it all became real for Gracie. Mika patted her back while she bawled into Kurda's chest. Lovely clung to her shoulder and nestled his fluffy body into the crook of her neck. As if he knew.

"It's okay to cry." Kurda murmured. "There's beauty in sadness, you know. What a privilege it is to love something so deeply it brings tears to your eyes. Shhh. It's okay."

If a willow tree took the form of a man, it would look like this. Kurda's arms and torso curled around Gracie as softly as a willow's branches shift in a breeze. Yet the ironclad assurance in his voice proved how deeply he was rooted, and what strength truly resided in the trunk that was his soul.

Mika had to get up and walk away for a second. He didn't go far. It was enough to turn his back on them and stoke the fireplace for the brief moment it took to swallow his own emotions. They went down like a bitter pill, but they'd stay there as long as they had to. He'd remain the immovable stone wall to Kurda's pliable willow tree. That was all he ever really brought to the table.

"I'll take her down to the spider caves to say goodbye and turn him loose." Kurda told Mika in an undertone. "You don't have to —"

"Don't be ridiculous." Mika cut him off, shaking his head. "Of course I'll come."

He didn't know why Kurda looked so surprised.

"Alright, then."

CAVE OF BA'HALEN'S SPIDERS

KURDA

Gracie sniffled the whole way down the mountain. It hurt to listen to. Even worse, Kurda found himself dabbing at his own eyes with his sleeve. It had nothing to do with the spider. He thought he was ready for her to leave. More ready than this, anyway. Yet the moment it became real for Gracie it became so for him as well.

He tried his best to offer words of comfort to Gracie as they walked side-by-side-by-side. Mika remained as silent as a statue, but held Gracie's hand the entire walk down. She only had one free hand to hold, the other was clutching Lovely tightly against her chest.

And on that bittersweet note, Lovely's grand adventure came full circle. He'd returned to his point of origin. The Cave of Ba-Halen's Spiders. And by the gods, he'd have some grand stories to share with his brethren if they cared to listen.

Gracie exhaled a shuddering sigh as she looked up at the crawling cavern wall, then back down at her companion of over two years.

"You can take a moment alone to say your goodbyes to Lovely. Tell him whatever you want." Kurda suggested, his voice shaking more than he anticipated. "It's okay. Daddy and I will be waiting by the door whenever you're ready."

Once Gracie gave a reluctant nod of approval, Kurda distanced himself. Mika followed his lead in silence.

Kurda didn't make a concerted effort to listen in as Gracie spoke with Lovely. But his well-tuned ears caught it nonetheless:

"Lovely, I'm gonna miss you so, so, so, so much. You're my best friend and I promise I'll tell all of my school friends that they can't be my best friends because you're my best friend, so they have to be my second best friends. Thank you for making me laugh and doing all those tricks and for helping me eat my vegetables so I'd have more room for cookies."

Despite himself, Kurda let out a soft snort of amusement at that admission. That was news to him. And apparently to Mika, too.

"I'll love you forever, Lovely. Never forget that, okay? Even when you can't see me, I still love you. And I'll come back to see you. I promise." Gracie finished. Lovely seemed to take in every word. She held him up and tenderly kissed his fuzzy back. Out of the corner of his eye, Kurda saw Mika wince. And finally, Gracie placed Lovely on the cavern wall and took a step back. Kurda felt a surge of pride that had him wiping his eyes again. She'd done it. Her voice had quartered the entire time, but she'd made it through. Kurda could only hope he'd be as strong tomorrow.

There was a cluster of tarantulas on a ledge just over six feet above the floor. They looked to be the same species as Lovely. Yet he stayed right there on the wall, eye-level with his girl. Like a damn puppy with too many legs.

"Go see your friends, Lovely. S'okay." Gracie assured him through a deluge of fresh tears. "Don't worry 'bout me."

He didn't move. Gracie turned to the door. "Daddy? Can you put Lovely up there with his friends? He's being shy. I know they'll like him if they get to know him."

She didn't specify which Daddy she was addressing. Considering the nature of the request, Kurda automatically stepped forwards to assess the situation. He frowned. Lovely's counterparts were just out of his reach. "Oh, dear. I'll need a step stool or something. I don't know if I can—"

To Kurda's shock and awe, Mika brushed past him with grim determination. "I got it. It's fine. Come here, Loathe– er, Lovely."

In one swift motion, Mika picked Lovely up, stretched up to his tiptoes, and deposited him upon the ledge with the others. It was said and done in under a second, but even in the dim light of the lichen Kurda could see the colour drain from Mika's face the moment he made contact with the creature. And as Mika retreated from the wall to stand by the doorway again, Kurda couldn't help but notice he was trembling. But he'd done it. Of course he had. There was nothing he wouldn't do for Gracie.

How? The word screamed through Kurda's mind so violently he was surprised Mika didn't hear it and flinch. How can you love her this much and still not understand why I am the way I am? How do you yield to her so gently and still be the way that you are? How? How? How?

The internal diatribe was brought to a halt as Gracie slipped her hand into his, and the other hand into Mika's. She took a deep breath, visibly steeling herself, then nodded up at them.

"I'm ready to go now."

…And how remarkable that such a disproportionate amount of strength can comfortably live alongside so much sweetness. In such a tiny vessel, no less.

They began the long trek back up the mountain.

On second thought, Kurda thought, watching Mika's thumb gently caress the top of Gracie's hand as they walked, that part makes perfect sense.

She is us.

This is us.

*
Strings tied to levers,

slowed down clocks tethered,

all this showmanship

To keep it,

for you,

In sweetness

Way to go, tiger

Higher and higher

Wilder and lighter

For you

— robin | ts | tppd