Young Writers Society

Home.

James wasn't sure he knew how to define home. Home wasn't a place, and yet it was. Home was a memory of a farm and a family he could never return to. Home was a set of circumstances. It was an idea of comfort. It was people - people he loved - but even people felt like an intangible concept. It was more than what was around him, or where he was, or who he was with.

Home required a sense of belonging, and maybe that was where it all stopped.

James never felt like he belonged, and that was a feeling he carried with him wherever he went. And he didn't think that anyone was going to make him feel different either.

It had only been two weeks since he'd been at the guild, but each day felt more and more suffocating - and not just because they were underground. With each passing day the realization became clearer that the only person who could make him feel like he belonged was himself, but the problem was, at some point, and he couldn't pinpoint to a particular moment, he decided that he was an outcast. And that was what he would be forever.

Or at least, that's what he'd thought he would be forever. Now it seemed like things were changing, but it felt like everyone else was moving forward without him. Somehow, everyone else was taking long strides forward, and he was stuck. Left behind. It would be too on the nose to say he still felt like he was trapped under the palace, but there was still a part of him that felt like he never left. Like everything since then was just a dream.

It was strange. Though strange wasn't the right word to describe what he was experiencing.

Every day felt full, but in every experience, he felt empty. He kept doing everything he needed to do, but the things that used to bring him joy no longer supplied it. Though he kept showing up to keep up appearances and keep his few commitments, he couldn't help but feel like he was just a bystander, watching on the sidelines of the human experience. It stung the most when he was with Hild, or with his family. It took everything he had to try to be present with them, but even when it seemed he was saying the "right" things, he hated that his heart wasn't in it.

It wasn't enough to say that he was just tired. He wasn't sure he had the energy to do anything at all.

Two weeks of outside pressure and obligation kept him on his feet. And then another week went by, and he kept showing up. He kept going to the stables, taking care of Elliot and the horses. He kept going to dinners with his parents. He kept having breakfast with Hild. Lunches with Larrel. Physical therapy with Lyall. Reading and writing lessons with Caspar. And then finally, when the day would end, he would collapse into his bed, and he felt nothing. Nothing but the weight of his own frame pulling him down into the bedsheets, from which, he didn't want to leave.

It didn't occur to him that, at some point, his body would finally give in to the exhaustion.

There was no daylight. There was never daylight to tell the time, but something told James that he'd slept far longer than normal. His mind felt foggy, and there was a ache in his body that he'd only ever felt from lying still for too long.

He knew that moving was the only long-term solution to get rid of the ache, but he couldn't find the energy to move. His body felt weak, and though he didn't feel like he could fall back asleep, he felt listless.

He laid there, unmoving, and wondered if he'd overslept.

A shot of anxiety ran through him, but even that wasn't enough to get him up.

People would be worried. And he didn't know what to tell them if they worried. He didn't think he could handle it if he let everbody down. But then again, hadn't he already done that?

Distantly, he thought he heard knocking, but it only made him curl up, clinging to his bed.

He didn't want to face the world today. He didn't want to do anything. He was tired of trying.

"You in there, bud?" Caspar's voice eventually called through the door.

Caspar. Was he worried? He sounded worried.

He mustered up the srength to speak.

"I'm fine," he said, but he knew it wasn't even near loud enough to reach out the hall to the door.

Maybe Caspar would leave and look for him somewhere else. That would give James time to get out of bed and look presentable, and to think of an excuse. It would be enough to say he wasn't feeling well, right? Caspar wasn't a doctor. He wouldn't check for symptoms or overthink it.

There was a bit of a pause before Caspar went on, "It's a big place here, so in reality you could be anywhere, and that I'd just be talking to an empty room, but no one's really seen you around yet today? Just...thought I'd check in."

James was lying on his side. For a moment, he buried his face in his bed, hoping that Caspar would just go.

But he knew if he didn't open up, things would only escalate. If he wasn't seen for a while, people would get concerned. And if they got concerned then he'd never get a moment's peace.

That was the one thing he didn't want to lose. And that was what little freedom he felt like he had.

Finally, he dragged himself out of bed, taking the blanket with him. He held it over his shoulders, letting it drag behind him across the carpeted floors. Even with carpet, the floor was still cold against his bare feet. An unavoidable result of being underground in the winter.

He felt lightheaded as he made his way to the door - like, perhaps he'd gotten up too fast.

By the time he paused at the door, he felt like he could fall over. He took a moment to try to steady himself, and then opened the door slowly, looking up at Caspar.

It was at that moment he realized he had no idea what he looked like, but knowing he just woke up, he could only imagine what Caspar was looking at.

Caspar, to his credit, didn't react in any way that might have indicated how he looked. Just offered a small sheepish smile as he tucked his hands in his pockets. "I don't mean to bother. Just wanted to, uh, check that you were somewhere. I can go now if you need some time on your own."

James nodded slightly, struggling to find words.

"I just... slept in," he said.

To everyone else that would probably sound like good news. Maybe it was. He hadn't been sleeping well for weeks.

Caspar nodded. "You look like it." He cleared his throat and asked, "Trouble sleeping last night?"

James looked off to the side.

"I don't really remember," he said quietly.

"That's probably good, then," Caspar offered. "Right?"

James nodded again, humming. He realized he hadn't put on his glasses. That was why everything felt blurry.

"Yeah," he said distantly.

Leaning a little on the doorframe, Caspar tilted his head. "You don't look quite ready to join the land of the living yet," he said in a gentle tease. 

James's head kept bobbing slightly.

"Yeah," he said again, admittedly still feeling half asleep and out of it. Caspar wasn't far from the truth.

"Sorry to... worry you," he said.

"No worry," Caspar answered quickly. Then conceded, "Just a smidge, but it's really fine. You've got a lot of sleep to catch up on, probably."

James tried to force a smile, but he wasn't sure if he even managed to move his mouth at all.

"Yeah," he said again, realizing that was his third time offering the same response. "I should... probably go back to sleep. I'm still tired."

With a final nod, Caspar straightened. He began to turn, paused, then fully faced James again.

"I probably sound like a broken record at this point," he said, "but if there's ever...anything, at all, you know you can talk to me anytime, right?"

James found himself looking up at Caspar with a vacant stare. He felt defeated. Nothing he could say to brush it off would feel genuine, but nothing genuine felt right. It felt selfish, for him to merely want to return to his bed and hide, but his eyes already felt like they were trying to close again. He was practically sleep-walking.

"I know," he said, letting his eyes close, just for a moment. "I know."

There was a moment of just silence.

"Rest easy, James," Caspar eventually said with warmth.

It occurred to him too late that he had started to drift off. James didn't know how long Caspar had been left hanging. When he opened his eyes, Caspar was gone. Looking down the hall, he could see Caspar walking away. 

For a moment, James thought of calling out to him. But he didn't know what to say.

Instead, he closed the door and turned around, returning to his bed.

Someone knew where he was. Knew that he'd slept. Thought it was for the best. And Caspar was probably right. James did need the sleep. He couldn't think of the last time he'd slept so long, at least, without having previously been in mortal peril and left severely wounded. The last sleep he'd been in that was this long was drug or sickness induced.

At least this time he didn't have to fight it. The moment his head hit the pillow, he was swallowed up again, and he didn't wake again until he heard a noise. The creak of a door, then some purposeful steps steadily approaching.

Was he dreaming?

Alarm processed as a delayed reaction. It felt like his body was stuck to his bed, too heavy to move.

"Have you perished entirely?" Hild's voice asked, tone mostly breezy as a soft light flicked on several feet away.

The brief shot of panic that course through him subsided the moment he heard Hild's voice, but it left him even more tired than before, were that even possible.

Groaning, he forced himself to roll over, from his stomach to his back. He squinted out into the room, now dimly lit by the standing lamp in the corner. By the door, a blurry vision of Hild stood. He couldn't make out her face, but he knew the silhouette of her hair and her shoulders.

"What day is it?" James asked, his voice even lower than usual.

"28th of Bruma." She perched on the edge of the bed with something box-shaped set on her lap. "I won't keep you long. Simply needed confirmation that you were still with us."

James felt the weight shift as she sat down, and he tried to will his eyes into focusing, but they remained bleary.

"I'm still here," he said, feeling like his vocal cords were scraping against gravel.

He looked out at the side-table by the head of his bed and reached out of the covers, pawing around until he found his glasses. It took him a second to slip them on as he sat up with a heavy sigh. 

He didn't know what time it was, but he had a feeling that he'd slept for a whole day. He could feel it in his body as his body ached, stiff from lying around for so long.

Swinging his legs off the side of the bed, he rubbed his eyes and adjusted his glasses once more. When he looked to Hild again, he was finally able to see her clearly.

She was holding a basket.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Breakfast," she answered, flipping open the top and tilting it toward him. The basket was filled with citruses and apples, a hefty wedge of hard cheese, and a round loaf of bread partially wrapped in a cloth.

James stared at the food for a moment, still not feeling fully awake. Mustering up a small, sleepy smile, he scooted down the bed and landed right next to her, hip to hip. Leaning his head against hers, he looked down into the basket.

"What time is it?" he asked, brain still foggy.

Hild leaned a little into him likewise. "Do you really want the answer to that," she said flatly.

James hummed, and decided against saying words. Instead he reached down and picked up the loaf of bread. Holding it with both hands, he took a big bite out of it.

That was one thing he'd missed, living in the wilderness. You never got fresh bread like this.

"This is good," he said, almost done chewing.

"Fresh from this afternoon," Hild replied warmly. "If nothing else, I can make a good sourdough."

"I love bread," James said, taking another bite.

Hild just hummed a laugh in response.

"Thank you," James added, continuing to eat, only then realizing how hungry he was.

She inclined her head, still smiling. "Of course." Hild picked through the basket and picked an apple for herself. "Care to join me at the library?" she asked before taking a bite.

"Like this?" James asked, looking down at himself.

Glancing him over, Hild grinned and shrugged a shoulder. "If you want to."

"How dissheveled do I look right now?" James asked, leaning back a little. "Be honest."

"Oh, quite dissheveled," she answered without hesitation. 

James hummed.

"It'll be a lowkey trip anyhow," Hild went on. "There's a fairly hidden nook of the library that I just wanted to show you. It's one of those little spaces under a staircase with built-ins for books."

"Sounds nice," James said. "How'd you find it?"

"My brother and I-- Ulf, that is-- agreed to meet at the library after his shift. He was running behind due to a family situation. Nothing serious, but took some time to sort out. I wandered a little while I waited, and happened upon the nook in the far corner of the library." Taking a folded cloth from the bottom of the basket, Hild wiped her hands a bit from the juice of the apple. "I'm fairly sure someone else frequents that spot. Enough to warrant their own little collection of books, organized by a system that has yet to make any sense to me, and the occasional used tea cup left in one of the shelves."

"Hopefully we won't be intruding," James said, then took another large bite of bread and set the rest of the loaf back in the basket. He got to his feet and let his body steady itself for a second. The food was helping his head to clear a bit, but he still felt irrecoverably groggy.

Shuffling over to the side-table, he reached into the top drawer and pulled out a hair band. Leaning over so his head was upside down, he combed through his hair with his fingers and tied the top half of his hair up to the back of his head in a tail.

Hopefully that resolved some of the bed hair.

Standing back up again, he turned to face Hild and held both hands out as if to say: "ta-da."

"I am now presentable," he said, knowing that he still looked like he'd just rolled out of bed. But at least he was a little less disheveled than before.

"Almost there," Hild said.

"What am I missing?" James asked.

"Shoes." As if that was obvious.

James looked down at his feet.

"Ah," he said. "Right."

He went over to the foot of his dresser on the other side of the room, sticking his feet into his old boots where they sat. He left the laces partially undone and merely stuck them into the shoe.

Then he was ready and turned around again.

"Perfect," Hild said with a smile in her eyes.

James walked over to her and plucked the loaf of bread back out of the basket.

"Are we eating here?" he asked.

"Seems ideal," she said, "unless you'd rather take it with us to go."

He sat back down beside her.

"I'm not awake enough to run into strangers yet," he said.

She gently leaned on him again. "Fair enough."

James proceeded to quietly finish off his roll of bread bite by bite, content to sit with Hild in silence as they both picked away at the contents of the basket. James eventually moved on to the cheese, breaking off small pieces that he plopped into his mouth.

With a small sigh, he leaned his head on Hild's again, still feeling the tug of sleep on his eyelids.

"How was your day?" he asked softly.

"Uneventful," she answered, "in a good way. If you're not up for people, we can always pay Elliot and Penumbra a quick visit."

"Are the stables open this late?" he asked, not knowing what time it was, but assuming it was late. "They might be sleeping."

"The stables will be closing fairly soon," Hild conceded. "How about one of the gardens, then?"

"You're just trying to get me out of my room," James said. "Aren't you?"

She hummed a laugh. "What gave it away?"

"You were so quick to suggest something else," James said with a weak smile, but he couldn't quite manage a laugh. He looked down into the basket and broke off another piece of cheese slowly.

Hild tilted her head so that her chin rested on his shoulder. "We don't have to go anywhere," she said softly. "Maybe just a short walk around, then you can burrow back in your little den here to your heart's content."

James plopped the cheese in his mouth.

"Making me sound like a rabbit," he said through chews. "Or a gopher."

"You weren't too unlike either today." There was a bit of a smile in her voice.

James was quiet for a moment, and he sat still as he finished chewing, staring still at the food in the basket, though his focus had left it as his thoughts began to drift elsewhere.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept like that.

There was a longer pause.

"Did Caspar come by earlier?" he asked.

"I believe so."

James hummed.

"I thought that was a dream," he said distantly. "Or at least, I remember it more like one."

"Lyall made mention of it," Hild said, "so it probably happened."

With another moment's pause, she reached up and put her hand to his forehead.

"You think I'm sick?" he asked.

"Well, not anymore," she answered, folding her hands in her lap again.

"You cured me that fast, huh?" he said, reaching over to rest his hand over hers. "Maybe you did get magic after all."

Hild huffed, sounding half-annoyed and half-amused, and playfully muttered, "I hope you heard how dumb that was. Maybe you should just sleep more for now."

"One moment you want me to take a walk, then I make a joke and it's bedtime," James said with a small huff through his nose.

Taking both his hands in hers, Hild stood and gave his arms a tug. "Fine, I'll just make an executive decision and say some relatively fresh air will do you good. You already have your shoes on, anyway."

James followed the pull, drifting to his feet as he let Hild do half of the work. As momentum brought him upright, he let it carry him a little further and he leaned in, pecking Hild on the top of her head.

"Okay," he said as he pulled away.

Hild's face reddened a little as she took a slight step back, closely watching that he was steady on his own.

"...Was that too forward?" James asked quietly.

"It was fine," she answered. Clearing her throat and turning, she grabbed his coat from the back of a chair and tossed it over his head.

The coat caught on his head and wrapped around his face, flopping over his back. He lifted it up and peered out at Hild, who was already waiting by the opened door. James hurried to slip his coat on and found himself shuffling up to her as quick as he could manage.

He looked down at her with a genuinely searching gaze. He knew Hild wasn't quick to physical affection, and he found himself worried he'd over-stepped.

Standing on her toes and cupping his face, Hild pecked him on the lips. Then said simply, "Your aim is terrible when you're tired, is all."

James felt his stomach flip, and in seconds, his heart was racing. He felt heat rush to his face as he stared at Hild dumbly, unable to hide the small smile that appeared involuntarily.

"Well," he said, his voice nearly cracking. "I do believe you've woken me up."

Reaching up to cup her face in return, he brought his other hand behind her back and pulled her in, kissing her on the lips without hesitation this time. However, unlike Hild's quick peck, he let their kiss linger before he finally pulled away, but he still held Hild close.

"Better?" he asked in a whisper.

Hild smiled brightly. "Much."

James smiled in return, and this time it was full, reaching his eyes.

"I think I'm ready for that walk now," he said, brushing his thumb over her cheek.

She let her hands drift down to his chest and lightly adjusted the front of his coat. "Good. Maybe tie your shoes first, though."

James blinked, and then looked down at his feet.

"That was on purpose," he said sheepishly.

Grinning, Hild nodded slowly. "A statement, I see. Very well, then."

"As long as we're not running I'll be fine," he said, letting go of her face to gently intertwine his fingers with hers. "It's just a walk, right?"

"Just a walk," she agreed as she tugged on his hand, leading them away from the door.

He followed, joining her at her side and letting her set the easygoing pace.

"You know," he said, swinging their hands ever so slightly between them. "If you'd have told me back in Needle Point that in a few months I wouldn't have to worry about being wanted anymore and I'd get a brilliant, gorgeous partner I would've laughed."

With her cheeks turning a brighter shade of red, Hild tried hiding a smile with a flat look. "And if you'd told me that in a few months, not only would I reunite with my family, but also end up dating Nye's most infamous, roguishly handsome, and dorky criminal, I'd have kicked you out of my house right then and there. Alas, here we are."

"I'm glad you didn't kick me out," James said with a warm smile, tilting his head in towards her. "Even though I probably deserved it for how much trouble I gave you."

Wrapping her arm around his and leaning more into his side, Hild said, voice softening, "I'm glad for it, too. You brought adventure and excitement with you, and I have an actual, full life ahead of me. Things I didn't have in Needle Point, and never would without friends like you and Caspar."

"I guess, in that way, we did get lucky," James said. "'Course, we could've met Lyall under better circumstances, but I'm glad we found them nonetheless."

"They found us, really," Hild added.

"I still won't forget how Lyall interrogated me - after nearly dying - about you," James said. "A man can escape death but apparently not the wrath of a protective brother."

Hild groaned. "I wish I could forget about that."

James laughed lightly - a soft hum that reverberated in his chest.

"Sorry to bring it up," he said. "I forget you were more... lucid for that than I was."

Quietly, she nodded. "...What happened in Ruddlan feels so long ago now."

James's gaze drifted to the ground.

"That it does," he said, quieter.

There was a small lull of silence.

"A lot's happened since then," he said vaguely.

Hild leaned her head on his shoulder and agreed, "That it has."

James could feel the tug on his mind, trying to pull him back to the memories that felt too close and yet so far away. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to force his mind back to the present moment, but even as he looked down at his and Hild's feet, counting to the beat of each footfall, it felt like his mind and body were being pulled in two different directions.

He hadn't realized how long he'd fallen silent until he realized they were far outside of the halls of the living quarters and had moved into the larger walkways that let into different sectors. 

Hild was leading them to the gardens.

He tried to shake his head clear to no avail. Though he'd been awake, the thick fog over his mind made him feel groggy and unable to think.

He reached up to his face with his unoccupied hand and rubbed his eye, adjusting his glasses after.

There were a few people wandering the halls, but the crowds were always thin after sundown - or what he presumed to be sundown. Normally, in helping at the stables, he was able to see some light to guage the time, but after sleeping through the day his internal clock felt skewed.

There was a stretch of time where Hild led them nearer to the gardens, and James tried to focus on what was close. What was tangible.

The warmth of Hild's hand, and the softness of her skin compared to his. Her shoulder, leaning into him, and the syncopation of their steps. Her hair had been growing more, and the bleached, dyed ends were now about as long as the rest of her head of hair. 

The cut he'd given her was growing out, and her longer, frizzy curls bouced and swayed around her shoulders. Leaning in, he could catch the lingering smell of freshly baked sourdough on her clothes and her hair. It was so pleasant he almost wanted to lean in and simply hold her to quite literally embrace the distraction, but he restrained himself.

Instead he let his attention linger on her face. The more he stared, the more she seemed to sneak glances back at him, but she didn't seem to mind.

He wondered if she ever imagined his face in the depth and detail he imagined hers when he thought he would never see her again.

He could remember lying on that table, in the cold, unable to see anything but darkness, and when he closed his eyes he thought of her. The way her eyes glinted with a smile she didn't want to show because she felt like she had to stay serious. The way her lips turned when she finally let it through. The way her cheeks would bunch up around her eyes, softening her features.

He found himself holding her hand just a little tighter.

She was here. He was here. This was real.

They passed under the garden archway, and stepped into the underground greenhouse.

At night, when the overhead windows were closed and blocked out the light of the moon, the dirt walkways were lit by small lanterns, held up by wooden posts. It gave the illusion of being outside at night, but the lights reflected in a pattern distinctively man-made - not that any one person could replicate the moon.

The garden wasn't very crowded. In fact, they didn't pass anyone for a few minutes, and it was only a small group of people heading out.

Eventually, after winding through the garden's walkways, James slowed, tugging lightly on Hild's arm. She stopped beside him, her gaze questioning.

There was a bench. He inclined his head towards it as a voiceless invitation. She followed his lead now and sat with him.

He kept his hand in hers, not sure if he wanted to ruin the moment with words. He found himself hesitating ten times over, and Hild beat him to it.

"My brother-- Lyall, that is-- spends many afternoons here," she commented, glancing out sideways to the lush greens around them. "I can see why. It feels a bit like our mother's garden, just much larger."

"You should join him," James suggested gently. "I'm sure he'd like that."

Hild hummed. "I was never as good with plants, but. I might, yes."

"You could always learn," James said.

"I suppose."

"If it helps, you could even make it a competition," James joked lightly. "Though I'm not sure how you'd compete in gardening."

Hild snorted. "We'll find a way."

"I don't doubt it," James said with a weak grin. "Well. You know who I'll be rooting for."

He leaned his head against Hild's.

"Lyall."

Hild made a betrayed sputtering noise and pushed James away. James laughed.

"I was joking!" he backpedalled quickly. "Of course I'd root for you. Lyall still deserves to be humbled after giving me such a hard time when I was at death's door. Please destroy him for me by making all of the most victorious plants."

Humming a laugh, she lightly pushed at his shoulder again. "Yes, you will most assuredly be avenged."

"And avenge yourself, of course. For all those years of teasing," James added. "Can't let him off the hook for that either."

Hild nodded. "He's going down."

"Yes he is," James said, leaning in so they were shoulder to shoulder again.

He looked down at their feet, now stationery at the base of the wooden bench. His half-laced boots stuck out sloppily from his plaid, fleece pants while her fur-lined moccasins sat neatly at the base of her simple gray pants. He found himself realizing that he didn't own any shoes that were considered more comfortable - though he'd realistically, never had the luxury.

Her moccasins looked warm, though.

There was a nagging at the back of his mind that wouldn't go away. He didn't know if it ever would.

"I missed you," he found himself saying quietly, barely loud enough to hear himself.

But that small, simple confession seemed to already have his chest tied up in knots. And yet, none of the emotions tied to it seemed to leak through. It felt like he was standing of the outside of them. Like he was at the edge of an endless gaping hole, looking down.

Hild tucked up her legs and leaned against him with both of her arms wrapped around one of his. "Sometimes it's hard to believe you're actually back," she said quietly.

"I don't know if I am," James whispered in return.

He knew the reality of his situation. Physically, he was safe - or as safe as he probably ever had been or ever could be since he'd become wanted. Safe was such a relative term, but he'd never been so hidden and so protected in his life.

It didn't feel real. It was hard to believe.

"It still doesn't quite feel like I'm here."

He continued to stare at their feet as silence filled the space between them.

"I keep trying to remind myself that we're hidden and... no one should be able to find us here," he said after a long pause. "I'm just not sure if I believe it."

He looked down at his hands, holding them together in their lap.

"What if all we did in saving me was lead him to this place?" James asked.

There was a pause.

"The... kingdom," James clarified.

Hild hesitated, then answered honestly, "I can't promise that we'll be completely safe here. I'm trying to take comfort in the fact that we are here, and together." She rested a hand over his and added, "We just need to give it time."

James didn't move, but he watched her hand.

"Right," he said quietly.

He knew there was nothing anyone could tell him that was honest to make his fears dissapear completely. Yes, this base had existed for years before him. Hundreds of other mages had been rescued and taken refuge within its walls, and they hadn't been caught or discovered yet - and in all those years, they managed to keep any mage hunters and enemies at bay.

James just didn't know what Carter was willing to do now that he was gone.

It took them two months to reach the base, and the whole time they never looked back. They'd received no word from the Moonlight Kingdom on what happened in the aftermath of his dissapearance. Had they gone forward with the execution and used someone else in his place, obscuring their face so the public wouldn't be aware of what was happening? Did they make a public spectacle of it?

Carter was smart, and James knew that it was more likely that Carter found a clever way to hide the fact James was gone - at least, in the eyes of the public. But he also knew Carter would never let it go that easily. Not after years of waiting for it only to have the satisfaction of killing James himself robbed from him in a moment.

It made him nervous, not knowing. Though he wasn't stupid enough to, he had considered the possibility of leaving to find out. But he couldn't. Wouldn't.

He knew he couldn't go back.

But he also didn't feel like he could move forward. He was too afraid of trying to build something only for it to be ripped away again just when he thought he was safe again.

James closed his eyes, not sure how much time he'd left Hild waiting in silence.

"I don't know how to rest," he confessed, feeling his shoulders droop forward. "I'm too afraid to. But I'm so tired all of the time."

Leaning her head on his shoulder, Hild murmured, "I know. And I wish there was more I could do to help."

James brought his hands around hers.

"You being here helps," he said softly.

She let out a sort of quiet sigh as her posture softened against his side. "Good."

James tried to relax for a moment as they both leaned into each other.

He was content for their conversation to lull once more as the peaceful, faint hum of bugs in the garden and distant footfalls became their blanket of sound.

A part of him wished that they could see the moon. He knew it was just above them at this hour, but its absence was felt. There was something still uncanny about living underground and having to stay hidden from the world.

He couldn't help but wonder if things would always be this way - at least, as long as he was alive. But perhaps its was too ambitious of a thought to consider what could be done to bring about drastic change in the world. If anything, it was far too overwhelming. At least, for the moment.

He pulled his mind back to the present. To the touch of Hild's hand between his. The steady rhythm of her breaths, and how perfectly her head seemed to fit in the crook of his shoulder.

It wasn't all bad.

Down the path, they could see what looked to be some of the last few people in the garden leaving. He wondered how late it really was, seeing as Hild never gave him a straight answer.

"Are you tired?" James asked after some time.

Hild shrugged. "Perhaps a little, but I'm alright."

"I know I slept all day," James said. "But you haven't. Just... let me know when you need to go to bed, okay?"

"I'm alright," she repeated warmly, "but sure. I'll let you know."

"Good," James said.

And he embraced the comfortable silence as they sat together in the dim light of the garden.

It was past midnight at this point. It didn't seem pertinent at the moment, though, and James vaguely asked about it only once, so Hild never gave an exact time. Following a full day of exploration and networking, then visiting with both of her brothers and their families, she really was rather tired. Even so, she wasn't ready for this moment of peace to end.

Staring down at their joined hands, she idly rubbed her thumb over his knuckles as she mentally went back through the day. She found herself frequently circling back to the present, and how James was really here, and then further back to King's Peak, the likelihood of pulling off not just one, but two rescues, and how maybe they were all a little worse for wear now (which was an understatement for some), but most assuredly here.

And now, Hild realized, James was starting to lean even heavier on her side. She turned her head so that her nose was tucked in his hair. "Ready to head back?" she whispered.

James didn't respond.

With a slight smile, she gently shook his hand and said, a little louder, "Hawke?"

James jolted upright, and his eyes sprang wide open. Blearily, he looked back and forth before his eyes landed on her.

"Sorry," he mumbled sleepily, his eyelashes fluttering. "I guess I dozed off."

"Only for a minute," she said, patting his arm reassuringly, and tilted her head toward the garden's entrance. "Come on, you can doze off for another twenty four hours back at your place."

James shook his head as if to snap himself from a daze and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I don't think I should go back to sleep right away," he said. "It can't be good to sleep this long uninterrupted."

"True," she conceded. "To keep you awake, we should probably move around a little, then."

James nodded and got to his feet like he was getting ready to walk again.

"You're sure you're not sleepy?" he asked.

Rising with him, Hild kept an arm looped around his. "It is rather late," she admitted, "but I'll be fine." She had no plans in the morning, so she could sleep in with a clear conscience.

"Mm," James hummed. "Alright."

He looked down at her arm hooked with his and leaned in, kissing her forehead.

"Where to this time?" he asked.

Anywhere else at this hour would likely be closed, or a clinic.

"Unless you want to walk through the halls, we can linger here," she offered.

James looked out into the garden.

"Here is fine," he said simply. "I'll follow your lead."

So they quietly walked, trailing along well-worn paths between raised beds of vegetables and herbs. Leaning her head on James's shoulder, Hild studied the stones that lined the walkways and were stacked into short walls along the edges of the garden beds.

They neared the center where there was a circular sort of sitting area, artfully paved with flat stones. The lines of trees that framed the different sections of the garden stopped at the edges of it.

Hild found herself admiring the sheer functionality of the place. Plants in the beds were arranged in triangles rather than rows, maximizing on the finite spaces. Every plant that she noted as they went served at least one purpose. The trees all offered harvest-able goods, for instance, be it fruit or sap, in addition to creating loose borders.

It was a stark contrast to the plant life in the wilds. Not to say that the wilds lacked a beauty of its own, she simply appreciated the careful planning that clearly went into building the place.

A not-so-distant memory of dancing with friends among wilder foliage flashed in her mind as she looked all around, and it was then that she realized she'd brought them to a stop now. Gaze settling on James, she remembered wishing he'd been there to share in that simple joy. She took in his (rather endearingly) rumpled state, reveled in the warmth of their entwined hands, and still marveled at the fact that he was here at all.

James met her eyes with a small, soft smile. It was same smile as when he offered to dance with her by the river.

Stepping away but never letting go of his hand, Hild tilted her chin up a little. "A proposition, Mr. Hawke."

James tilted his head, curiosity alit in his eyes.

"I believe it's about time we danced again," she said, letting herself smile.

James's whole face slowly lit up, and his lips parted into a full smile. Though he had some scruff, he'd shaved recently enough that she could still see his dimples peek through.

"What kind of dance will it be today, Miss Ashlund?" James asked.

She held up their joined hands at a relaxed angle, and stood closer to drape her arm around his shoulders. "Something simple, with a relaxed pace perhaps, to accommodate our sleep-addled minds."

James seemed to pick up on it right away, and he reached around and rested his hand on the small of her back.

Having drawn close, he looked down and whispered.

"I don't mind taking it slow," he said.

And he led with the first step. They gently swayed in time with an unheard melody, completely in sync with each other. The garden was warm, and dancing slow and close made heat rise in her cheeks.

James drew away a little. With a hummed laugh, Hild followed his signal into a small spin. When they returned to starting positions, he pulled her closer than before and warmly rested his arm around her. Hild let her arm slip from around his shoulders to rest her hand on his chest.

Her smile faded naturally as she met his gaze. He seemed to pore over every detail of her face. She found herself dropping her own gaze down to her hand, with an almost self-conscious smile, as she absently played with the collar of his jacket.

Her mind felt akin to a broken record, thinking repeatedly of how they were dancing together, that this was real. Like she was trying to convince herself. When James drew her closer into a full embrace, it felt as though he was doing the same.

Hild breathed in deep, then melted in his arms with her ear to his heart. It beat steadily at first, but she heard it began to pound faster and harder.

His embrace tightened, not to the point of being unbearable, but enough for her to know that he wasn't just holding her to hold her. He didn't want to let her go.

He brought a hand up to the back of her head, holding her to his chest as he rested his chin on the top of her head. They had stopped swaying.

Closing her eyes and taking in a shuddering breath, Hild finally found the courage to break the comforting silence and murmured, "I love you."

James's breath hitched, and he held her just a little tighter.

"I love you too, Hild," he said with the weight of restrained tears behind his words. "I love you too."

Wrapped up in each other, enveloped in his arms, it felt like nothing could touch them.

It was around 1 in the morning when they finally disentangled and made the walk back to his place. Having arisen at 5 AM the previous day, exhaustion began to really set in for Hild. The hallways smudged together, feeling as though they'd barely passed the two by. They were by his door before she knew it.

She reached her arms backward in a stretch, then was forced to drop the position when a yawn overtook her.

"Gods," she mumbled. "Suppose I should head back now that it's a truly ungodly hour."

"I would offer to walk you home," James said. "But it looks like you're about to fall asleep while standing." He paused at his door and looked at her with a tilt of his head. "You could sleep here if you'd like."

Technically, her place wasn't very far. Tired as she was, it felt unattainable.

As she folded her arms and tilted her head to consider the proposition, potential concerns from certain overly-concerned family members distantly occurred to her. The desire to simply crash as soon as humanly possible won out.

"Only if you don't mind a roommate," she answered.

"Not at all," James said, opening the door to let her in first.

With a short nod of thanks, Hild made a beeline for the bed. Only pausing a moment to set the food basket aside, she spun on her heel and dropped backwards onto the covers.

James threw his jacket off onto the back of a chair and then sat on the edge of the bed, kicking off his unlaced shoes. Wordlessly, he looked at the moccasins on her feet. She leaned on her elbows and followed his gaze. Ah, right. Drawing her legs in as she sat upright, she neatly dropped her shoes on the floor. Then she pat the space beside her as she pulled the covers up over herself.

James crawled in under the covers beside her.

"Goodnight, Hild," he whispered as he laid back against a pillow.

"Morning, technically," she replied, with her eyes closed and sleep already taking over.

"Good morning," James said in return. "And good sleep."

-

She was groggy, as if she'd overslept. She blindly felt about for the pocket watch. Turning up empty after a few fruitless seconds, she sighed and simply melted back into the warmth of the blankets. If it was late, it was late. Knowing exactly how long she slept in wouldn't change anything, so she might as well embrace it for now.

A light in the room wouldn't be so bad, though.

When she reached over for a lamp on the side table, she ended up bumping a face with her arm instead. Startled, Hild recoiled.

"I see you're awake," James said, puffing out a laugh.

"Oh--" She let out a breath. "Right, yes. Apologies."

"It's alright," James said, and she could feel the bed shift under his weight as he rolled over. For a moment, she couldn't make out anything in the dark, and then she heard the fizzle of a match. Dimly, the silhouette of James leaning over the side of the bed to reach his side-table came into view, and he breathed his lantern to life.

After a moment, it filled the whole room with just enough light to see dimly.

James rolled back over with a sigh, facing her.

"Did you sleep alright?" he asked.

She scrunched her nose in thought. "It was nothing to write home about, but yes. A decent rest."

"Good," James said simply.

Tilting her head, Hild looked him over. "And...I trust you slept?"

There was enough delay in James's response that Hild felt she already knew the answer.

"I... rested," James said quietly. "But I couldn't fall back asleep."

She hummed. "Why's that?"

James hesitated again. He was turned on his side, facing her, but he looked down and avoided her eyes. He looked like he was in deep thought. Hild waited quietly.

"I just... wasn't able to stop thinking," he said.

"A dangerous endeavor," she tried joking, but there was more truth to that than she cared to admit. Left to its own devices, the mind can turn out some unpleasant things.

James let out a soft sigh as he nodded, his face pressed against the pillow.

"Yeah," he said, barely audible, eyes downcast with a deep sorrow.

Reaching over, Hild brushed some stray strands of hair from his face. "What's on your mind?" she murmured.

"I keep thinking on this past year," James said quietly. "There's just... so much that's happened. Sometimes I feel crushed by the weight of it."

"Well," she said slowly, glancing downward, "this past year has been..." Hard to describe succinctly. Hild shrugged a shoulder and settled for, "...quite rough, which is a severe understatement."

It was rather akin to a crushing sensation. She felt if she lingered too long on any one of their past trials...

James was quiet for a moment.

"Around this time last year," he eventually started again, voice low. "I was a hostage to the Blue Suns."

Eyes flicking back up to his face, Hild asked, "In the Outlands?"

"Yes," he said. "I had... well. I was trying to get out of the Outlands at the time, before I ran into them."

She recalled that he spent at least a year there. "How long were you stuck with them?"

"About five months," he said. "Though it felt longer."

He paused, letting out a small sigh as he curled up under the covers, drawing his arms around his shoulders as though to shield or even comfort himself as he went on.

"I suppose it's not as complicated as it seems in my head," he said. "But the way it all happened felt very dramatic. The thing is... it'd be easier to start at the beginning. The first year after I became wanted. I had spend most of that year constantly on the run. I never stayed in the same place for more than a day, if that. It took me a month just to get out of the Moonlight Kingdom. King's Peak isn't easy to escape from. But by the end of the year I'd managed to veer East and finally make it ahead of the spreading news of my new status in the world. I made my way into Goulon, and, knowing it was a little more isolated from the rest of the world and had a tendency to be a few months behind in news, I managed to find a small town to take shelter in for the thick of winter. No one there recognized me or knew who I was - at least, not yet - and I had a small window of opportunity to recoup, make some money, get supplies, and try to prepare for what I knew was probably going to be the rest of my life on the road."

"I came up with a different name for myself for the time being. Yoen. It was an arbitrary choice without much thought put into it, but I tried to change my appearance and my clothes as much as I could manage. I'd shaved my head earlier that year so I worked with the hair I had at the time. Anyways. I looked for work, and I found a listing on the town's post looking for help with training a horse. The horse was ironically named Obedience. I didn't know at the time that the woman who owned the horse and put out the ad would, a few years later, become the kingpin of the Blue Suns. And at the time, she had no idea who I was either. I was just a man looking for a simple job to make money. And I was good enough with horses that it worked out. I spent about a month working for her and helping train Obedience, and then I was on my way. I never thought I'd see her again."

"Was it tumultuous?" Hild asked. "Seeing her again?"

Though James was facing Hild, his eyes were fixed elsewhere. Without having said a work, it seemed like the mere question took him back to it as a dark cloud seemed to pass over his face.

"It was an accident," he said distantly. "I was just trying to get away. I had no idea that I'd wandered into private territory. There were no fences. No signs. I hadn't been that far north in the Outlands in a while. I--I kept getting turned around and-- I didn't know. I couldn't have. And I just stumbled into it. Into her."

He swallowed, seeming to withdraw into himself even more were that possible.

"Rita," he said quietly. "Her name is Rita."

He paused again, looking down.

"Sorry," he said. "I've never talked about this."

Hild gently rested a hand on his arm. "I'm listening."

James nodded slightly, but took a moment before speaking again, like he was collecting his thoughts.

"I thought, at first, that I was being captured because they knew who I was. It wasn't until I was presented in front of Rita that I realized it was for trespassing. But seeing her again... was surreal," he said. "I had never expected to see her again. I assumed at some point news would reach where she lived about who I was but I didn't think it would come back to bite me."

"I just didn't except it to be in the form of a deal. A secret deal, just between her and I, where, instead of turning me in, she wanted to mine me for information. Because of my former connections to the Moonlight Kingdom, which itself has many guarded secrets, she felt that learning what I knew was an opportunity for her to get information no one else in the world had. As the head of the Blue Suns, she was looking to expand their reach of influence to the Kingdom, and knowing things she could use as leverage to get a foot in the door seemed... advantageous."

"She didn't seem to care that any information I did have was five years old, and though she gave me a choice, the choice was to be turned in or to take that deal as the only alternative."

James fell quiet again, and she could see his chin soften, trembling but for a moment as he visibly pushed the emotion back down and clenched his jaw with a frown.

"So I... I took it," he said with a shrug, his voice dwindling to a whisper.

"And I was stuck there," he said as a smile came to his face but didn't reach his eyes. "Constantly being watched. I never had a single moment to myself. Rita either kept me tied to her side or under the close and careful watch of two of her closest members. I didn't know what to do with myself. I-- I became someone else. Rita wanted to keep my identity a secret as much as I did to avoid trouble - which was why she kept me so close all of the time, and why we agreed I'd go by another name."

He laughed, but the laugh was empty. Pained.

"Liam," he said. "It was... it became a personality I took on. I don't know why. It... it was a safety blanket. I thought it would be, at least. At first, It almost felt better. It was my only safeguard. The only thing I could control was myself. So I just... became one of them. But I felt like I lost so much of myself in the process."

James's smile slowly faded, and he began pulled away from her touch, hiding his face with his hands.

"Sorry," he said again, this time barely audible.

"Don't apologize," she said softly.

She recalled that one evening outside of Ruddlan, when they had a chance to see almost every alias James ever created. Every name, the vastly different looks. Constantly becoming a completely different person just to survive.

"You don't have to change yourself like that anymore," she said. "Now you have room to just be, even if you don't know how that looks at the moment."

She could see James's head nod behind his hands. After a second, he pulled them away, and his face looked both grave and spent. The corners of his mouth were pulled back into a frown that seemed stuck on his face.

"I know," he whispered. "I know."

Closing his eyes, he let out a deep sigh.

"Is this too much?" he asked, finally looking up to meet her eyes. Or, what at least looked to be his attempt to. Without his glasses, looking out into the dark and dim room, she wasn't sure if he could make out much of her face.

"Not at all," she said quietly.

His forehead creased with concern.

"You just woke up," James said, more gentle this time. "I... this can..."

"Well, I'm quite sobered now," she agreed, tentatively light in tone. More seriously, Hild added, "When I say I'm ready to listen, I'm ready. Okay?"

James looked down again.

"Okay," he said softly.

"Good."

James was quiet again for a moment.

"So. Liam," he began again. "It may be hard to imagine, but I essentially forced myself to be talkative and sociable all of the time. The people I was stuck interacting with seemed to respond well to a personality that was simultaneously high energy and low fuss, so I molded myself to what seemed to be their preference. It... didn't feel quite real. I formed some shape of friendship with the two guards who kept watch over me. Their names were Bella and Ron. They rotated in shifts, watching me and following Rita around as well. When Rita was away, I felt almost like a child, being watched in her absence. I wasn't trusted to leave the base, or even the building."

"Every night Rita would interrogate me a little more. Just... little by little, asking whatever came to mind. It started with the kingdom. And at first, she was taking notes. But then it... it got more personal. She was the only one who knew who I really was on the base and she went out of her way to keep it that way. When I was with her alone it was the only time I felt I could be even some semblance of myself - because she knew what I had been like years ago, when I'd had a more mild persona, closer to my nature - but I found myself dreading it."

It felt like there was more to that thought that hung in the air silently as he stared down, head sinking deeper into his pillow.

"I never thought I'd get away," he said. "It seemed impossible. It's one thing to escape from a single bounty hunter, but it's entirely different to try and escape what was essentially a fortress with people coming in and out at all times, guards always cycling on watch inside and out. And it wasn't all of me either. That was just the way it was. That was how they kept the order at their hideaway. And I was just trapped at the heart of it, with Rita."

He closed his eyes again, but this time they stayed shut as he continued.

"I... I was let out once," he said. "Rita was gone for the day and I was desperate to be outside. I had given up the possibility of escaping. I just wanted to touch the ground. I wanted to be in the open air again. I convinced Ron to take me with him to the nearest town. He was going on a simple errand. And..."

James let out a slow breath through his nose.

"I was recognized. And Ron died defending me," he said.

"Gods," Hild uttered, "I'm so sorry..."

"It wasn't immediate," James added quietly. "We made it back to the base, but he died soon after. He wasn't able to get help in time. And I..."

He swallowed.

"Was. In a lot of trouble," he said.

He paused again, biting his lip as he swallowed again.

"Maybe it's... better to skip to the end," he said faintly. "How I got away."

With a slight nod, Hild assented and waited quietly as he collected his thoughts again.

"Ron had a brother," James said quietly. "His name was Hoss. After Ron's death, Hoss quickly went to Rita and threatened to expose my identity to the rest of the gang who had been kept unaware of my existence and value. As it turned out, Rita cared more about avoiding mutiny so she could secure her position in the Blue Suns than she did about me, and at the time, she'd already exhausted all of the information I had to offer. So it was an easy decision for her to give Hoss what he wanted. She... handed me over to him."

"Though Hoss had presented it as him wanting to take me in and claim my bounty," James went on, slower as the words eeked out. "Rita and I both knew that's not what he really wanted."

"So... Hoss took me far away from the base. After we were a few miles away, far out of earshot of civilization... I... he..."

James fell silent, and the silence that followed felt heavy. When he finally broke it, his voice sounded hollow.

"He almost killed me," he said. "I..."

"...How did you escape?"

His lip began to tremble again, but still, he didn't cry. Instead, he stared through her. Past her. His eyes glazed over with what she could only describe as horror.

Realization struck her. Hild hoped she was wrong, for James's sake.

"I killed him," James confessed. "He had nearly beaten me to death, and I... I..."

The seconds that followed felt like an eternity.

"Bella came to find me," he finally said. "She brought Elliot. She'd come to save me, maybe. I don't know. But she found me, barely standing, over his dead body and something just came over me. I held up Hoss's gun and I told her to hand Elliot over. And then I ran."

"She thought we were friends. And she never knew my real name."

"For weeks after that... I didn't want to live with myself. I'd escaped, but I kept asking myself what it was all for. If it was even worth it. And my body was in so much pain I... I don't really remember everything that happened between then and the moment I met Gregor and joined his staff on his ranch."

James stared down at his hands.

"I think a part of me still believes that what happened with Butch... and... at the kingdom. That it was all some form of retribution. To bring balance. For Ron. For Hoss. For... for Alexander. And Ivar. For everything."

"It can't have been," she said firmly, "there is no 'balance' with where we are now."

Haven as this place was, the reality of the situation was that they were consigned to living underground. And those less fortunate than them were still out there being hunted.

Turning back to the current conversation, Hild pressed her lips together as she thought. "Are you up for a thought exercise?" she asked quietly.

James looked up at her with his eyebrows drawn together.

"Maybe?" he said quietly, sounding unsure.

Hild took another moment to carefully craft a response.

"Let's take Ivar for instance," she said slowly. "Prominent mage hunter, right?"

James nodded.

Taking in a breath, Hild went on, trying to keep her voice from dropping too low, "He killed with intent to kill, harmed with intent to harm. We could consider his...death, retribution for his actions. Yes?"

"I..." James said with a resigned sigh. "Yes."

She nodded. "Alright. Ah..." She mentally paged through for a name that hopefully was still emotionally distant enough. "...Alexander. I'm not as familiar with his record, but from what I could gather, about the same?"

James sighed even deeper.

"I know what you're getting at," James said. "I was defending you. I was defending myself. It was an accident."

"Yes, there's that," she said, "of course. But bear with me."

Looking up toward the wall above their heads, Hild drew in another breath. Then looked back down to look James in the eye. "What about Caspar, then?"

"What about him?" James asked.

"What happened to him and...his companion, in the wilds," she said. "Was nearly losing his life yet again in Ruddlan retribution for Manning's death?"

"And what about me?" she added, quieter. "I was...unfair to my family. We were all hurting when our mother passed, yet I pushed my brothers away for my ego's sake. Then I lost them to the fire. For all I knew, I lost them for good. Retribution?"

James fell silent, and his expression grew sober. Sadness drew his eyes to look away again, and he didn't respond.

"My point isn't whether or not we actually deserve what comes our way, or if there's some cosmic force tipping scales," Hild eventually went on, "since I don't know that we can determine that. My point is that we all fall--" She laughed bitterly. "--fantastically short of our own ideals, and a lot of us are so quick to blame ourselves when bad things happen."

She shrugged. "And sometimes it is our own faults." Brushing a hand to his arm again, trying to draw his attention back to her, she finished, "But it can't be always. Right?"

James's eyes grew misty as he looked down at her hand.

"You're right," he said. "But it still hurts all the same."

"I know," she murmured. "Though our experiences are...all unique to each of us, at least know that you're in good company."

He reached up and rested his hand over hers. Gently, but with a quiet earnest, he lifted her hand to his face, resting his lips on her knuckles. He held it there for a moment, and though he didn't say anything, she felt it. He was grateful for her company.

Then he let go and met her eyes with a question as he reached out to pull her close. Hild silently met him halfway, scooting over and wrapping her arms around his middle. He held her close and buried his face into her shoulder. She breathed in, counted to four, and breathed out. Then repeated, steady as they drew comfort from each other.

"Thank you," James said, his voice muffled. "For listening."

Though he couldn't see it, Hild smiled gently. "Of course."

Another few seconds passed as they embraced.

"Do you have to be anywhere?" James asked, still speaking into her shoulder. "You slept in late. I don't want to keep you too long."

At that, he pulled away, though his hand lingered on her shoulder.

"I did plan on meeting with Ulf this afternoon," she answered, suppressing a sigh at the thought of having to leave the warmth of bed. "Nothing urgent, though I don't think I'll hear the end of it if I fail to be punctual."

"Well," James said softly. "We wouldn't want that."

He sat up and pushed the blankets to the side. He took a moment to stretch out his arms over his head and then let them drop at his sides with a sigh.

"I can put something together for you to eat before you go," James said. "Take your time."

"Much appreciated, kind sir," Hild replied. Reaching around his side to the night stand, she angled the pocket watch in the candlelight.

9:30. Unusually late for her, but no one should notice.

James got to his feet, and Hild could feel his weight lift off the mattress. As it sank on one side under just her weight, she was tempted to simply burrow deeper in and just savor the warmth a bit longer. Instead, Hild pushed herself upright and stretched out any lingering drowsiness.

"Thanks again, by the way," James said as he sluggishly moved towards the door. He stood in the doorway, looking back. "For coming by last night. I... was glad to not be alone."

Head tilted as she looked him over, she drew her up her legs and folded her arms over her knees. "Anytime," she said sincerely with a dip of her head.

James nodded in return, offering a small, sleepy smile before he stepped out.

James saw Hild off before noon. In her absence, his small apartment felt empty, and he felt the restless silence eat away at his nerves.

A day of sleep had left him groggy, and though he could still feel the pull on his body to rest more, he didn't think if he laid down that he'd be able to sleep. He'd merely be caught in the hellish in-between, unable to sleep but too tired to move.

Since he was on his feet, he determined to keep it so, and after changing into more presentable clothes and lacing up his boots, he hurried off to the stables.

Busy. It was best to stay busy. And so he stayed at the stables for hours, at first, caring for Elliot in every conceivable way, and then taking up every barn chore that hadn't already been seen to. At this point in his stay at the guild - or underground city, was what it felt like - he'd only become well-acquainted with the staff at the barn, outside of his small circle of friends he knew in coming to it.

The woman who was in charge of the stables that kept the horses was a goblin. Her name was Everest, and she seemed to find James's loyalty to his horse endearing if nothing else. He found in their conversations though that they did share a common passion for caring for horses and that was where they understood each other. Though it was too soon to call it a friendship, their mutual understanding led to several amiable conversations, and James enjoyed getting to work with her and her staff.

At present, he hadn't been given a "clean bill of health" from his doctors, so James remained a volunteer for the time being. Otherwise, he'd have secured a full-time job from day one - but both Hild and Lyall insisted he spent more time recovering from... well...

... everything.

His singular 24-hour nap aside, James didn't think it helped to be idle. Last night was a perfect example. After Hild fell asleep at his side, he'd been stuck there, unable to sleep for hours, stuck in the horrible trenches of his own thoughts. And that was an accurate assessment of any moment he was alone and unoccupied for too long.

When he wasn't at the stables, he was with people. When he wasn't with people, he was at the library. When he wasn't at the library, he was sleeping. Maybe. If he could. Sometimes he stopped trying.

But he was feeling better. At least, if he could quantify anything, he had gotten his strength back, and he felt like his stamina was almost back to what it was before. There still were moments when he didn't feel quite right. On occasion, he'd experience phantom pains or headaches, sometimes migraines, but none of them lasted forever, and in most instances, he would manage to push through it, and no one would even notice.

If he was being honest, he didn't give it much thought either.

He'd had chronic pain for years, even before... everything. Even in "recovering" there were many things he knew would never go away.

Like how, at the end of the day, when he finally laid down, it would all catch up to him.

He flopped back down onto his bed, his just-kicked-off shoes dropping to the floor as his feet hung off of it. Every joint in his frame seemed to ache, like they were sighing in relief, except the release hurt.

His back was tense as well. Today, he felt it, especially in his shoulders and his neck, but it was nice to let the bed hold the weight of his skull for a moment.

He hadn't changed into his sleeping clothes yet when he heard a knock at the door.

His eyes shot open. He hadn't realized he'd even closed them.

Springing to his feet, he stumbled out into the hall, hurrying to the front door. He didn't know who'd come to see him, but a part of him was hopeful it was Hild again.

When he opened the door, his heart sank only a little. Ah. A different Ashlund.

James managed a small smile as he greeted Lyall with a nod.

"Lyall," he said. "It's good to see you. What brings you by?"

With his jacket hanging over his arm, the sleeves of his button-down rolled to his elbows, and his hair only partially swept back, Lyall appeared to have just returned after a full workday. Though looking a little tired himself, he grinned brightly. "Figured now might be a good time as any to check in on a friend."

James nodded.

"Ah," he said, backing in to clear the doorway. "Come on in. It looks like you've had a long day. Did you just leave the clinic?"

Nodding his thanks, Lyall padded inside. "Quite busy today, yes. Since Cas has the kids taken care of right now, I supposed I've got a few free moments and decided, 'What better way to spend them than catching up with my favorite patient?'"

He tossed his coat over the back of a chair, then sank down into it with a long sigh. Sweeping an arm toward James, he eventually said, "Long day yourself?"

James looked down at himself, acknowledging his dirty clothes from a near-full day at the barn. It occurred to him at that moment that he hadn't actually eaten all day since he'd seen Hild.

And he wasn't hungry.

"I'd say so," James answered. He took a seat across from Lyall at his small kitchen table. "It was good, though. I always like spending time at the stables."

He paused and gestured to Lyall.

"How was work?" he asked. "Have you started to settle into the new schedule?"

Lyall snorted. "It's all coming back to me. I'm just no longer fully accustomed to doing it hours on end."

"Do you get to choose your hours at all?" James asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Eh." Folding his arms, Lyall tilted a hand in a so-so gesture. "More like, I provide my preferred hours when asked, and they shoehorn me into the later shifts anyhow. I believe I've got overnight tomorrow." Slumping lower in his seat, he shrugged noncommittally. "Such is restarting at the bottom-most wrung of the workplace ladder."

James hummed with empathic understanding.

"I'm sure it'll improve with time," he said. "Hopefully you won't have to bear it too much longer. I'm sure working so late makes it more complicated with the girls, too."

"Commitments are indeed running into each other on occasion," Lyall said with a hum. He waved dismissively. "Nothing I can't handle until then."

"I imagine it's a very different pace of life for you, though," James said. "Having a proper workplace as opposed to makeshift tents or beds turned into operating tables."

"A vast improvement, for sure," Lyall agreed.

"And I imagine you get less... emergencies," James said. "Unless that's the area you were assigned to."

Lyall nodded. "More of the mundane."

"Are you working with a particular age group?" James asked.

"Adults," he answered. "They're considered easier as patients, I suppose." Grinning fondly, he added, "Kids were always my favorite, though. They appreciate a good time."

"And adults," James said with a click of his tongue and a shake of his head. "Can't have fun with them at all. They're all business."

Lyall chuckled. "I just might ask for a sort of switch in that area."

"Ask your adult patients to be more fun, you mean?" James asked, purposefully misinterpreting for the sake of the joke.

He barked a laugh. "'Settle down, it's just an appendectomy.'"

"'Oh, lose my appendix?'" James laughed, keeping it going. "'I can't wait!'"

"'An incredibly invasive surgery, what's not to like?'"

James chuckled.

"Isn't almost all surgery invasive?" James said, leaning onto the table with one arm, resting his chin in his hand. "Unless it's something on the surface."

"You'd be correct," Lyall answered, waving a hand in James's direction. "I see studying my medical texts is beginning to pay off."

James huffed through his nose.

"Well, now I have a whole library's worth of resources," James said. "Before you know it, I'll catch up with you."

James considered extending the joke by explaining he had a whole family of doctors to keep up with, but he didn't want to trigger any of Lyall's protective brotherly instincts by insinuating he was considering anything more serious with Hild at the moment. So he left it at that.

"Maybe even apply to work at the clinic," Lyall added.

"Then I could be your doctor," James said, gesturing to him. "As an equivalent exchange."

"Oh, gods--" Lyall laughed harder. "Can you imagine?"

"Yes. You'd enter my office, and I'd take a page out of your book," James said. "I'd tell you: Don't take your health so seriously, we're just here for a good time!"

"Ah, my own words," Lyall lamented.

"Feels different being on the other side of things," James agreed with a small, lighthearted grin. "But don't worry. I do not fault you for it."

James reached over and patted Lyall's shoulder as a show of comfort for their pretended woes. Lyall playfully pouted before breaking into another grin. As James pulled away he leaned back into his chair with a little laugh.

"I'm sure your patients enjoy you," James said. "You've always had a good bedside manner--" he paused, briefly looking to the side in remembrance "-- unless they're in a relationship with your sister. Fortunately, only one person's in that specific category though, and I've spoken with him personally and he forgives you. Apparently, it was an instance where he was waking up soon after being under anesthesia and you interrogated him about how he knew your sister. Sounded bizarre to me, but I think he's moved on. He said you're actually friends, now. What a turn of events."

Nodding slowly as his smile tamed, Lyall said, "Ah, right. I never did formally apologize for that ambush."

James shrugged.

"We can both stand to work on our timing," he said, specifically thinking of how he confessed his affection for Hild right before he thought he was going to die. And then he didn't.

"It's water under the bridge," he said with a small smile.

"I appreciate that," Lyall said. "Joking aside, it was rather low of me to take advantage of the anesthetics. For that, I am sorry." His smile, though faded a bit, turned into something sincere. "Crazy as this might sound, I truly am glad you're her first."

James wasn't going to read into that too much. He decided to take it at face value.

"I'm very happy to have your approval," he said with a small nod. "Hopefully with time, I'll gain Ulf's as well."

Lyall just laughed and didn't bother expounding on it.

"My parents have mentioned wanting to have your family over, actually," James mentioned. "You and your kids and Hild in particular. Though I'll let them follow through on that."

"I consider myself warned," Lyall said warmly. "I anticipate it, actually. If not, then I'd be happy to invite them instead."

"Either way, food will be had," James said with a wave of his hand.

"Most assuredly."

Sitting more upright, Lyall leaned sideways with his elbow resting on the arm of his chair. "Speaking of," he said smoothly, taking on his professional pleasantness whenever he talked medicine, "how's your appetite been?"

Ah. Right. Though they were friends, Lyall was still a doctor. More specifically his doctor.

A part of James wished they could just be friends.

James looked down.

"It's... been fine," he said. "I still have bouts where I'm not really hungry even if I've been very active. I try to force myself to eat at those times."

He paused, chewing on the next words before speaking them.

"Lyall," he said, more serious now. "I... I know that while we were traveling from the kingdom into the wilds you were assigned as my doctor out of necessity. And I appreciate that you care to follow up and keep checking in. But... now that we're both settling in here, and we're not as limited as we were... I think it would be better for our friendship that I saw someone else as my doctor."

There was a pause as Lyall seemed to closely study him, carefully considering his own response. Then he nodded and said simply, "I think that would be wise. Don't get me wrong, providing help as needed hasn't been an issue or burden to me by any means. But I think that'd be nice." He smiled. "Just friends."

James softly smiled in return.

"Yeah," he said. "So you can take off the doctor's hat, now. You can ask how I'm doing all you like, I'd just prefer you do so as a friend instead."

Snorting, Lyall mimed removing a hat and hanging it up. "Consider it off." And he leaned back, allowing himself to fully relax again. "Nevermind that we don't really. Have hats."

"You'd look good in one I think," James said. "Maybe a wide brim."

He motioned a circle around his head to indicate the side he pictured in his mind.

"But it doesn't make much sense to wear hats here," James said. "Not in a practical way. We've always got a ceiling over our heads."

Lyall hummed a laugh. "Might find one and wear it to the office, just for fun."

"It wouldn't get in the way?" James asked.

He shrugged. "Maybe." He snapped his fingers as a thought occurred to him. "Oh, you were a cowboy. Did you have the...?" Lyall too gestured 'round his own head.

"Of course," James said as if it were obvious. "Though I lost it at some point," he pondered, looking up in thought. "I can't recall. It was in one of our more... conflict-packed encounters, I'm sure. It was a nice hat, though. I'm sad I lost it, but alas. All things come and go."

"A shame," Lyall agreed.

"I did look the part," James said. "Even though my cowboy career was cut short. Of course, it was never going to last long anyway."

"The persistent call of adventure," Lyall said with feigned wistfulness, though the act faded quickly.

James could feel the quiet sinking in his own gut at the thought.

"Right," he said.

He had a feeling Lyall wasn't as eager to answer that call as James might've been - and even in James's own life, he felt he'd only ever stumbled into the call rather than choosing it. But perhaps he had. As much as he was a victim of circumstance, he was also a victim of his own choices, which only he could be responsible for. And, well, more often than not, ever since returning to a normal life became practically impossible... adventure seemed the only option, in a way.

It made his current situation... odd. To say the least. Five years ago he never would've imagined having any sort of stability, never mind a place of his own.

"Would I be right to assume you've never been much the adventuring type?" James asked.

Green eyes lighting up, Lyall grinned. "On the contrary! I've actually always wanted to travel." He shrugged. "Under far less dire circumstances would've been preferable, of course, but alas."

"Ah, apologies for the assumption," James said. "I think it was all the complaining about camping and animals that gave me the impression."

Lyall snorted. "Well, Hawke, some of us like the idea of travel without having to sacrifice a few extra comforts on the way."

"I understand the sentiment, though I can't say I feel the same," James said with a shrug. "My tolerance for nature has always been rather high. Probably the result of my upbringing."

"Ah, yes," Lyall mused, and held up a hand at waist height, "little potato farmer James. I remember."

"While you were running around a house learning from your mother," James said. "I was digging potatoes out of the earth with my hands."

Lyall hummed. "A stark contrast."

"These last few years must have been quite uncomfortable for you, then," James said. "Even though the guild has some accommodations at their bases and hideouts, it's still very simple living."

"I'm adaptable," Lyall said with mock offense. Then lit up with another thought. "Potatoes! Have you eaten yet tonight?"

James had to pause in thought.

After he'd gotten home, he'd gone right to his bed.

"Uh... no," he said.

"Why don't you hop over for a minute?" Lyall said, already standing and grabbing his jacket. "We have leftovers to spare."

"Are your girls asleep already?" James asked. "I wouldn't want to disturb them."

Halfway to the door now, Lyall waved dismissively, then waved to beckon James along. "Unlikely, but we can check once we're there."

James got up and followed, but paused when he looked down at his bare feet.

He was still in his stable clothes, which were still dirty from a days' work. He wasn't exactly... the most presentable.

Lyall simply opened the door and wheeled his arm with more vigor.

"Just... one moment," James said, lifting up his pointer finger before he ran to his room and shoved his feet in his shoes. He hurried back out, hopping on one foot as he tied one of the laces on the go.

"Alright," James said, making it out the door with one shoe tied. "Just don't trip me."

Turning on his heel, Lyall led the way. "Your idea, not mine. No promises."

James huffed and rolled his eyes as he caught up to Lyall and finally matched his pace, walking side-by-side.

"What's the hurry for, anyway?" he asked.

"Hm?" Lyall glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, no hurry. You're just slow."

"I'm--?" James started but then sighed. "Right. I'm the slow one. You're always moving a mile a minute."

Laughing, Lyall only seemed to walk faster.

James hopped and skipped a step as he tried to half-tie his other shoe so he wouldn't keep stepping on the laces.

"So I assume I should just always be ready to do anything at a moment's notice with you, then," James muttered as he managed to at least tuck the laces away before having to hurry to catch up again.

"Of course!"

Thankfully, Lyall's home wasn't far. James finally caught up with Lyall again and decided not to mention that his ankle seemed to be acting up again. He just stepped carefully instead.

"So what kind of leftovers do you have?" he asked.

"Soup," Lyall answered. "Courtesy of Cas, and Hild brought bread over a little earlier this evening."

Slowing only for a second, he tapped his knuckles on the door before easing it open. He peeked in, then silently swung in and held open the door for James. "Lily's asleep," he whispered.

James nodded and stepped inside quietly.

"Watch your step," Lyall murmured as he toed at small shoes left strewn in front of the door.

The apartment, though still a little sparse as far as personal belongings went, looked well-lived in already. The girls had coats hanging on the backs of chairs and scribbled drawings and pencils left semi-neatly on the dining table. Boxes of books sat by shelves, waiting to be fully unpacked. Folded fabric and a sewing pack that James knew was Hild's had been left on one arm of the sofa, and some carved animals were propped up on the side table beside it.

On the other end of the couch, Lilya was curled up small and tucked into Caspar's side. Both had fallen asleep. An illustrated storybook rested only half-read on Caspar's lap. Lyall padded over and leaned over the back to peck his daughter on the top of her head. Then quickly ruffled Caspar's hair as he stepped away.

Lyall gestured to the table in invitation. "We should have bread left over, too," he said, keeping his voice low.

James merely nodded, though his gaze lingered on the sleeping duo for a moment before he followed, taking a seat at the table.

After a moment of audibly poking around the kitchen, Lyall re-emerged with the promised bowl of soup and a thick slice of sourdough.

"For a guy with zero sense of smell and the tastebuds of a ten-year-old," he said with a chuckle, "Cas makes a hearty, well-seasoned soup."

James had to withhold a laugh, but he couldn't help breaking into a partial smile.

"I'm sure he's learned a thing or two from Mel and Bo," he said quietly, receiving the bowl offered to him.

"Two of the most skilled cooks I know," Lyall agreed with a hum. "Should set one up for at least a modicum of success."

He sat down across from James and began sifting through the drawings on the table.

While Lyall went through the drawings, looking at them without comment, James took the opportunity of quiet to simply eat. The soup was, in fact, hearty, and Hild's bread never did disappoint. It was the kind of soup that was healing, warm, and soothing - full of chicken, bone broth, and soft vegetables. Though he hadn't been very hungry at first, upon starting to eat, his stomach thanked him.

It wasn't long before he'd finished the bowl, and carefully rested his spoon inside with as quiet of a clatter as possible.

He pushed the empty bowl to the side as a wordless sign that he'd finished.

"Thank you," he finally said to Lyall.

Glancing up, Lyall grinned. "I contributed nothing to the meal, but you're quite welcome all the same."

Looking around the room, James found himself looking at Caspar and Lilya again. They were still fast asleep.

"You probably have to get to bed soon," James said. "I don't want to keep you much longer."

Waving it off, Lyall said simply, "I'm fine. Though I do need to check on Cy real quick." He stood and offered a warm smile. "Stay for as long or as little as you like, James. The door's always open."

James nodded as Lyall disappeared down the hallway to the left, and he waited for a moment before he got up himself.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the invitation, but he couldn't help but feel like his presence was imposing on Lyall's domestic comforts. James didn't feel he really knew what to do with himself in Lyall's absence, and even when Lyall was there, James could feel his capacity for social interaction shrinking, despite them not having spoken the majority of the time they sat at the table.

Maybe he just felt odd because of how much he'd slept the previous day, but James still felt... restless.

He stood stiffly at the edge of the kitchen table, looking down at his feet.

He didn't know how long Lyall would be gone, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be more than a few minutes unless something came up unexpectedly. This would probably be his only window to leave quietly if he desired.

Kneeling for a moment, he finally thoroughly tied his other shoe, and then he got back to his feet.

It was dim inside the apartment, but it wasn't hard to find his way back to the front door. At least, he thought it would be simple. Until he accidentally tripped over a pair of shoes on the floor.

His arms shot out to catch himself, but his knee hit the floor with a loud thump. Biting back a pained wheeze, James let out a slow sigh through his nose.

Now his ankle and his knee hurt. This was fine. This was normal.

Pushing himself back up to his feet, he kicked the pair of shoes to the side so no one else would trip over them, and he glanced over his shoulder, wary of having woken anybody with the noise.

"You okay?" Caspar's voice quietly came from the couch.

James's shoulders sank a little as he turned, smiling apologetically.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I'm fine."

With his head tilted to peek over the back of the couch, Caspar nodded. "Good."

"Sleep well, Cas," James said in return as he rested his hand over the doorknob.

Caspar lifted his free hand in a small, uncoordinated wave. "Y'too," he replied, sounding already halfway there. "S'nice seeing you."

James smiled softly.

"You too," he said, watching as Caspar almost immediately fell back asleep.

He nodded slightly to himself, glad that Caspar was getting sleep. It seemed to be a mutual struggle for them both.

With one last pause to collect himself, he finally opened the door, closed it quietly behind him, and then made his way back to his apartment for the night.

"I don't believe it's sinking in for anybody that I've practiced solely emergency care over the past decade."

Hild snorted. "I don't think it's sinking in for you that you're still new there, and haven't officially practiced diagnostic medicine in the past decade."

Pausing only a moment to cast her an offended look, Lyall set down the stack of dishes on the counter. "Field work, dear sister! If anything, that's better! 'No greater teacher than experience' and all that?"

"All I'm hearing is you've years' worth of catching up to do," Hild countered, waving a paring knife in his direction.

Lyall tsked and leaned on the counter with his arms folded. "I suppose I shouldn't have come to you for a sympathetic ear."

Coming between them and pulling both into side hugs, Ulf beamed and said good-naturedly, "Please, let's keep the peace while we prep for guests."

Lyall frowned. "We'll behave once they're here--"

Their brother tsked this time. "My kitchen, my rules."

Plastering on a smile, Hild nodded. "Of course. Thank you again for offering to host our chaos. I can't promise you won't regret it."

"Peeshaw," Ulf said, waving a hand. "It's my pleasure." He gestured to the knife in her hand. "Chop chop, bug."

Lyall and Hild both groaned a little, but couldn't help but grin fondly too. Simply smiling, Ulf then turned Lyall by his shoulders and ushered him to another corner of the kitchen. "Come on, you can't just take the easiest job then call it a day."

Lyall raised both brows at his younger brother. "Running a tight ship since when?"

"Don't be so surprised," Ulf said, almost pointedly, "I picked it up from someone."

Lyall pursed his lips in thought. "...Jeff?"

With a flat look, Ulf held out a tray of drinks.

Then, there was a knock at the front door. Already backing out of the kitchen, Lyall raised his hand high. "I got it! Not to worry, you have your hands full there, sir."

Lyall turned on his heel and dashed to the door, determined not to be relegated to passing out refreshments. He quickly smoothed back his hair and adjusted his jacket, then opened the door.

Standing there was Larrel, beaming brightly the moment he opened the door. Her long hair was pulled back in an elaborate braid and she swished the skirt of her deep blue dress in excitement, practically bouncing on her feet.

"Hello, Lyall!" she chirped. "I hope I'm not too early. I thought I'd stop by and see if you guys needed help before everyone shows up!"

With a broad smile, he stepped aside with a polite bow and flourish of his hand. "You look wonderful, Larrel! We just have some finishing touches left, but are otherwise set. Please, come in anyhow."

Larrel eagerly took the invitation and stepped right in. As he closed the door she spun around.

"What still needs setting up?" she asked.

"I'm sure brother mine will find you something to do," Lyall assured her as he pointed her to the kitchen. Then added in a mumble, "Great delegator that he's become."

Brightening, Larrel turned to search for Ulf, already poking her head into the kitchen.

"Ulf!" she greeted. "I've come to lend an extra pair of hands! Order me around!"

Ulf, initially looking offended because he did hear that last bit (but Lyall couldn't be bothered to pretend to be sorry), lit up at the sight of their first guest. "Ms. Larrel! How lovely of you to offer." He scanned all around the kitchen in search of tasks, seeming to forget the tray of drinks in his hands. "Ahm-- oh! We won't have room enough in the dining area alone. Would you help keep my brother to task with arranging seats in the sitting room?"

Larrel glanced over her shoulder at Lyall with an amused smirk.

"Sure," she said. "I can do that."

Lyall pouted. "I don't need supervision."

"Oh, don't be such a baby," Larrel teased, already bouncing up and hooking her arm in his, dragging him towards the seating room. "Let's go!"

Resigned to his fate, and actually quite happy for the company, Lyall stumbled after.

Ulf's apartment was rather a decent size. Larger than Lyall's or Hild's, but it would still be a very close fit with a grand total of 18 people, the host and his family included.

Larrel came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the sitting room and unhooked her arm from Lyall's, putting her hands on her hips.

"Alright," she said. "So. What's the plan?"

Catching himself before their momentum carried him flat on his face and standing straight, Lyall folded his arms and tapped his chin in thought. "Well, the plan is...to make a plan, is it not?" He swept an arm out, gesturing around them.

"The dining table comes equipped with six seats already, and the sitting room would accommodate an additional two, three, four people. My brother has an extra two chairs in the office, so we'll fit twelve folks total so far..."

"Six people left," she said. "But four of those are kiddos. They could sit on the floor if necessary. My parents live just a few doors down. Want me to ask if we can borrow two seats? I think we could squeeze them in at the table."

He snapped his fingers. "Yes, brilliant. I'll grab the office chairs."

"Okay," Larrel said. "Whoever comes back with two chairs first wins."

At that, she dashed to the door and slipped out almost immediately.

Grinning, he rushed down the hall. He cut off Hild as she was stepping out of the kitchen with a platter in both hands. His quick, half-hearted apology was more of an afterthought tossed over his shoulder.

"You're such a child!" was all she called after him.

Ignoring his sister's judgements, he skidded into the office. One of the chairs had wheels, and he was a shorter distance from the living room than Larrel was. If he stacked the other, non-wheely chair onto the wheeled-chair, then he could cut his travel time right in half.

Sadly, the chairs were incompatible, stacking-wise. Two trips, it was.

In the end, making two round trips did nothing to hinder his success. Larrel was able to carry her two seats stacked, but that couldn't make up for the distance she needed to travel whilst encumbered. Suffice to say, Lyall won.

Breathless, Larrel nodded to Lyall in defeat.

"Good game," she said, setting the chairs down.

He held out a hand to her. "And a very good effort on your part," he said brightly.

She shook his hand firmly.

"I did my best," she said with a smile. "But I'll win next time."

Lyall grinned. "We'll see."

Larrel's smile tightened a little, and there was a challenging glint in her eye.

"We'll see," she echoed, and then the look vanished as she clapped her hands. "Okay! Let's cram these chairs around the table!"

Peeking out from the kitchen, Ulf added, "With care!"

Lyall waved him off. "Of course."

"Cram with care," Larrel said.

So they fit the two chairs Larrel had brought around the dining table, and ended up shifting around basically the whole sitting room to accommodate the office chairs. When Ulf came to inspect the arrangement, he agreed with Larrel's plan concerning the children's placements.

Just as Lyall was trying to find another task to turn into a game, there was another knock at the door. Each raising a hand, both he and Larrel offered to grab it. Larrel had the advantage this time. Standing in the small foyer between the front door and the sitting room, she essentially blocked the only path to victory.

With two long leaps to the door, she was already there, opening it up with a smile.

"Girls!" she said cheerfully. "Caspar! Oh, you all look lovely!"

She backed away, holding the door open as they came in. Lily bolted past, and made a running leap into Lyall's arms. Defeat forgotten and with a broad smile, he spun her around before setting her back down.

"You are indeed a sight to behold!" he said, kneeling down so that he was at her eye level. "Quite marvelous. Who helped you with your hair?"

Lilya giggled as she bounced on her heels. "Uncle James came by."

"And thank goodness he did," Cy added. Hopping over, she gave Lyall a quick side hug.

"Clearly James has improved in his hairstyling," Larrel commented under her breath. "The things I missed."

"Very skilled," Caspar agreed.

"Someone has to be," Cy said.

Lyall gave her an exaggerated frown. "Well, sorry my techniques aren't quite up to snuff. I do what I can."

"We all have our strengths," Larrel interjected. "James can braid hair. Your dad can save lives. It's not a competition."

Cy only shrugged, unable to argue.

Lilya raised a hand. "Then we helped Cassie."

Pushing himself to standing again, Lyall glanced upward. And couldn't help but double take. "My gods, he is clean! And what--" Reaching up, he carefully patted the top of Caspar's unusually slicked-back hair. "No."

Tucking his hands in his jacket pockets, Caspar sighed. "Yes."

Lyall truly couldn't recall a time when his friend looked this well-groomed. Ever. It almost felt wrong. He poked Caspar's cheek, still amazed. "Did you trim the face bush too? Who're you trying to impress?"

Caspar huffed. "No one. Could you--" He batted Lyall's hand away.

Laughing, Lyall relented, and Ulf ushered all of them along.

While Larrel and Cas got the kids settled in, Ulf bumped an elbow to Lyall's chest. Voice low and brows raised in confusion, he echoed, "'Uncle James'?"

Myes. Lyall drew in a slow breath and nodded. "You heard right," he murmured. "They just took to him, and I can't undo it."

"Should I prepare myself for any..." Ulf waved his hand in a small, vague circle, settling for, "...anything?"

Lyall gave him an unamused grin. "Brother. It's unlikely to be so serious for them, they've only been dating for, what? Not even four months, and it's been on and off essentially."

Sort of. And, he'd confess, that wasn't the most tasteful way to frame the circumstances of the King's Peak issue, but he couldn't help it if that was in at least one respect true.

Ulf glanced over his shoulder, to where his wife was explaining platter presentation to Hild. Brows furrowing with intense thought now, he turned back. "Regardless, getting to better know Mr. James sooner rather than later feels pertinent."

Lyall scoffed. "You'll like him the way you like pretty much everybody."

"That may be so," Ulf conceded, "but I can still distinguish likeable from suitable, if the traits are indeed exclusive in this case."

Nodding, Lyall had to agree, "Fair enough." Ulf was, though perhaps too affable for his own good, a good judge of character.

In all honesty, Lyall was sincerely curious what their brother would think of James. Not that Hild would need approval or anything, she was apt to do as she wished. But, if they valued anyone's opinions on interpersonal relations (particularly those of the romantic kind), it was Ulf's. He inherited their mother's wisdom in that way, something that Lyall would admit he and Hild could be lacking in at times.

"Oh!" Lyall waved an arm at Caspar and called from across the room, "Where is he, by the way?"

Caspar blinked at him. "Who?"

Lyall spread both hands in a 'come on' gesture. "Hawke?"

Ulf looked between them, even more confused.

"Oh." Caspar pointed vaguely north. "He went to meet with the rest of the Rikks, I think."

Lyall patted Ulf's shoulder. "There you go. He'll be over shortly, and you can have chats, man to man."

Another knock at the door, almost expectedly. Lyall side stepped over before Larrel could even jump up to her feet again, and swung open the door with another welcoming smile. Which quickly went from polite to genuinely pleased.

"Mel!" he greeted, "Raj! Dashing, as usual, radiant." Stepping back, he excitedly waved in his friends.

Mel smiled brightly as she stepped in first. Big, dangling golden earrings framed her face along with her hair, which had grown out and was styled into a small fro. She wore a long red dress, and the skirt flowed around her feet. Raj was dressed more formally than Lyall had ever seen him - normally dressed in something rugged and practical, he had a brightly patterned shirt with a buttoned vest and neutral slacks. Their outfits were clearly color coordinated as well.

A bit predictably, Mel seemed to gravitate towards Caspar first.

"Oh, look at you!" Mel said with a gleaming smile. "You look dashing."

With a shy smile, Caspar ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck.

Meanwhile, Raj turned to Lyall and nodded in greeting.

"Good to see you," Raj said.

Raising both brows and offering a broad smile, he nodded back. "Likewise, dear friend." Grin turning mischievous, he set his hands on his hips and pointed his chin toward the not-quite couple. Raj grinned and silently turned his attention as well.

They tuned in just in time to catch a voice crack on Caspar's end. Clearing his throat, he straightened and tried amending by pitching his voice an octave lower. He coughed from the effort. Awkwardly folding his arms, he said simply and sincerely, "You're-- you're very pretty. Growing out your hair?"

Mel grinned, tilting her head to the side.

"Yeah," she said. "Trying something new. What do you think?"

Caspar smiled, eyes positively adoring. "It's lovely. Suits you."

"Thank you," Mel said, smile unwavering. "Well. Shall we get out of the doorway? I'm sure others will be coming soon."

"Ah, right." And he looked around them, seeming to only then remember himself. Before stepping away, Caspar offered his arm with a small, silly flourish of his other hand.

Mel took it, and shot a gleeful glance back at her brother that Caspar didn't see. The two then ventured in where Ulf and Therese could properly receive them. Pleasantries were exchanged, though Caspar was (predictably) content to mostly listen.

Lyall lost interest as Ulf began detailing something about clouds. Another knock on the door was his salvation from this fast boredom. Sliding over once more, he greeted their newest arrivals, Bo and Robin.

Before he could get a word of greeting in, he was grabbed up in a tight embrace and lifted off his feet for a moment.

"Lyall!" Bo said as he squeezed him tight and then set him down. "I've missed seeing you. How are you faring?"

Leaning over and giving Bo a proper hug-- one that wouldn't potentially displace any bones-- Lyall ushered them both inside. "Likewise, my friend! Been busy in the best possible ways." He patted Robin's shoulder. "For days we've gone without seeing your sunny mug, we've been utterly deprived!"

Robin, only cracking the tiniest smile, let out a singular: "Ha," and patted Lyall's shoulder in return, though a bit roughly.

"You must be miserable," Robin said flatly. "Anything to help you out."

Lyall bumped a shoulder to Bo's arm. "You've been kept busy, I take it? It truly feels like it's been awhile since I last saw you."

Bo let out a small sigh as he stepped through the doorway, and Robin quickly slipped past the two of them, moving further into the room.

"It has been busy," Bo admitted. "It's been a long time since I've been at the main base, so I've had a lot of catching up to do. Lots of meetings. But most of them good."

Lyall nodded. "Good to hear."

Bo ducked to the side to clear the doorway. Following, Lyall left the door open, since everyone seemed to share the same brilliant idea of arriving early. Which would effectively make whomever did arrive on time, appear late.

Within ten minutes of their agreed upon meeting time, Petrus showed up on his own. His long curly hair was pulled back neatly and he wore a nice, slimming coat jacket, cleaner than the rough work clothes Lyall usually saw him in.

Seeing him was a mild surprise, to be frank. Lyall couldn't recall the last time their paths crossed since arriving at the base. Larrel had mentioned once or twice that her brother had discovered the forge, and that he practically lived there nowadays.

Petrus came in with a small duck of his head, making eye contact with nobody as he entered quietly.

Politely excusing himself, Lyall slipped around Bo (in the midst of regaling them with a tale from the past week) and made his way to front door. He gave a welcoming smile and held out a hand to the young man. "No need to sneak in like a thief in the night, Mister Petrus. How are you lately?"

Petrus looked up and flashed a smile, but there was something in his demeanor that made it seem like he'd been caught, even though all he'd been doing was walking in.

"Oh! Lyall," he said. "Hello. I've been doing alright. How have you been faring?"

"Quite busy, but quite well." His greeting hand unacknowledged, Lyall simply tucked both in his pockets. He nodded toward the living room as invitation inside. Breezily, he added, "I suppose this makes the rest of the Rikk clan late."

"Late?" Petrus asked, glancing about the room, and then at the door. He seemed antsy. "I thought it started at 6 past noon?"

"Oh, it does! In truth, everyone else is simply early. Thus, if you aren't early..." Lyall shrugged a shoulder.

"Ah," Petrus said, starting to inch into the room. He seemed... eager to get away from the door.

Lyall waved a hand, beckoning him along. "Hey, do you think you can help real quick with some prep? Finishing touches, really, but it seems my sister has abandoned her station mid-task."

"Oh, sure, sure," Petrus said a bit too quickly. "Of course."

So he led the way to the kitchen, skirting around the commotion of the living room. Perhaps Lyall had some...workaholic tendencies, but he found that busy hands kept minds from wandering too far into anxiety. And maybe the kitchen would provide effective refuge until Petrus felt more ready to enter the bustle.

And he wasn't lying when he said Hild had abandoned her duties. Fruits and cheeses were left unplated in favor of visiting with their guests.

Petrus stared a little blankly at the food, as if unsure of how to begin. Once he picked up a paring knife, though, he delved right into it. Lyall gave him one or two notes on presentation, then stood back to give him room to simply work.

Lyall didn't truly believe there was much of science behind it. That said, Petrus did have an eye for design, and it showed in the careful spacing of the rings of fruit wedges.

It wasn't long before the remaining of their guests at last arrived. Carrying on their mostly one-sided conversation without pause, Lyall leaned to peer out the kitchen door to the apartment's entrance.

Jane and David came in first, both of them color coordinated in cool colors with Jane's purple dress and David's purple tie. Larrel was quick to run up to greet them and pull them in, giving each of them a kiss on the cheek.

When her parents stepped out of the way, James finally appeared behind his parents. Now that outfit, Lyall recognized. It was the one Hild had designed and made for James herself.

The last time Lyall saw James, he was dirty and disheveled - but it appeared that he'd trimmed his hair and beard, showered, and gone out of his way to look his best. His hair had grown long enough that he had half-done it up in braids, presumably by himself.

From the opposite end of the room, Hild took notice of their arrival. She smiled brightly when her and James's eyes locked, and she patted Ulf's arm by way of excusing herself.

Turning back to the fruit platters, Lyall was content to assume the two met each other in the middle in a likely lovely display of fondness.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Hm?" Petrus asked, then looked down at the plate. "Uh. Yeah. It's ready."

"Looks great!" Patting his shoulder, Lyall took one of the platters and dove back into the fray.

He first went to greet the rest of the Rikks, assuring them that they came just in time for food, and set the platter on the table. As he asked about their days, he noted in his periphery that Petrus stuck to the edges of the scene. Even as he helped set the table and warmly acknowledged Jane and David, he mostly kept to himself.

Now that everyone was here and accounted for, they were able to officially begin the festivities! The apartment was filled to the brim, yet comfortable with the seating accommodations (and since some of them opted to stand anyway). Making his way to Larrel once more, Lyall made sure to mention as much. With a grin, she agreed they did their duties, and well at that.

It had been a while since James had been around so many people. He wasn't sure the two months of travel out of the Moonlight Kingdom counted, because, in honesty, much of it he couldn't recall in detail. There were small moments that stuck, here and there - the ones marked with sorrow, or meaningful conversation - but many of the moments shared around campfires and with others were lost to him. Though, he wasn't sure if he was ever really there for many of them.

Most of what he remembered wasn't through his own memory, but through the memories retold by others.

And somehow, his brain was still swimming as he sat in the midst of overlapping conversations.

Hild had drawn him aside at first, and he'd sat with her and his parents for the first half of the meal. David and Jane seemed to really enjoy Hild, which, despite his own distance from his family, was still nice to see. He let them drive the conversation with her and only chimed in when asked questions directly. Otherwise, he simply enjoyed seeing his parents enjoy Hild.

They'd begun to talk more in-depth about David's former smithing business when James noticed something across the room.

Though Lyall and Larrel were trying to be sly about it, he could tell they were up to something from the way they tried to hide their mouths from his view. After all this time, Larrel still knew James could read lips well, and they both knew she only ever covered her mouth when whispering when she really wanted to keep a secret.

When she and Lyall parted, Larrel approached them first. And he had to assume Lyall was coming after, because James had a feeling he already knew what this was about.

He'd known even before he came that this dinner was an opportunity to get to know Hild's side of the family better. Ulf and Lyall probably wanted to speak with him, no doubt about their sister.

So, it was predictable when Larrel came over to draw Hild away to the kitchen, coming up with some story about "needing advice" for something. There was probably truth in it, but he knew Larrel was able to pull excuses out of thin air. He supposed they'd both gotten good at bluffing, though through very different means.

Hild cast James a knowing look, and with only eye contact, they both understood what was going on.

But it was going to happen either way, and James didn't want to fight it. Hild rolled her eyes only because it was her brothers' scheming, but James didn't mind. He flashed her a small smile before he got up and excused himself, freeing himself for the ambush he already knew was coming.

Only seconds after he'd left his seat, Lyall slung an arm around James's shoulders with a breezy, "Glad to have at last caught you!" and pulled him along to the living room.

James merely followed, letting Lyall lead.

"Ah, Lyall," James said. "Seems I've been caught."

Seated at the coffee table, Ulf rose and offered a smile as they entered. "Mister James! Lack of subtlety notwithstanding--" And he gave Lyall a pointed look. "--it's good of you to join us."

From her spot on the floor by Caspar, Lilya waved with a pencil in hand. "Hi, Uncle James!"

"Hello, Lilya," James said with a soft smile. He wanted to ask her about her drawing, but didn't want to distract from the conversation he was being brought into. He turned to Ulf and offered another smile. "I'm happy to join you."

At that, he took the nearest seat next to Ulf, aware that the other seat was on the other side of him. Essentially, he was going to be sandwiched by Ashlunds.

Seeming to sense that something important was imminent, Caspar helped Lilya pick up their drawing supplies and hauled her over his shoulder. "Good luck," he quickly murmured to James as they took their leave.

James flashed a small grin to Caspar.

Well, he hadn't felt nervous until Caspar said that.

There was an awkward pause between the three. Ulf appeared awkward, anyhow, Lyall was perfectly fine with the forced circumstances.

Ulf cleared his throat and offered a slightly more apologetic smile this time. "There doesn't seem to be a natural way to segway into this now," he mumbled. "I was just hoping to...get to know you better, I suppose, since..." He waved a hand vaguely.

Sitting back, Lyall comfortably sipped his water.

James nodded.

"Of course," he said. "Uh... well, I'm not sure what you've already heard, but perhaps if there's any questions you'd like to ask, that'd help me know where to start."

Ulf nodded. "Shockingly, my brother has neglected to share much information on your behalf."

Lyall just grinned.

Casting him a brief, unamused look, Ulf went on, "So, you and Hild have been courting for a little bit now?"

"A little while," James said. "It really hasn't been that long in the grand scheme of things, but it's been a few months. I... don't know if I should count the two months that I was... well..."

James found himself at a loss. The issue of his disappearance was a can of worms he didn't know how to go about opening.

"Maybe I should start from the beginning," he said.

Ulf shook his head. "That's not entirely necessary. While I don't have the whole picture, I understand at least that there was a time of forced separation. A rescue mission, right? Bo mentioned once."

"Yes," James said with a small nod, though his eyes fell to the floor. "I... I was wanted by the Moonlight Kingdom for years. I don't know if I still am, or if I've been pronounced dead, but I was finally caught a few months back. I was rescued just in time, but it was... a very uncertain time."

"They are not particularly merciful down south," Ulf said, voice softening further. "I am sorry for what you've been through. There, and since."

"Ah, well," James said, rubbing his arm. "It... thank you. I'm just happy to be here."

Ulf gave a slight, brief smile. He then drew in a breath. "I'm...not in the habit of...interrogating? friends of my family. And I do trust my sister's judgement of character. I just... I hope you understand that I have some lingering concerns. As to why you were a wanted man in the first place. Given our family's history, which I presume Hild has shared with you, safety and wellbeing is a matter I cannot take lightly."

"I completely understand," James said. "What got me in trouble with the law in the Moonlight Kingdom was the issue of magic. About six years ago, I used to serve in the king's palace guard. I had an unusually close relationship with the king, which allowed me to learn of things he would normally keep secret from even his closest advisors. As a result I learned of many dark secrets the king kept covered up, but what finally pushed me to action was when I learned he was going to attempt to experiment on children to create soldiers with enhanced magic. Without... getting into the details... I successfully sabotaged the project, but my life completely changed thereafter, seeing as there was no way I wasn't going to get caught. And I've been wanted ever since."

Leaning back (and mirroring his brother in relaxed posture), Ulf nodded once as he contemplated what James told him. Eventually he said, "Thank you for your honesty."

James didn't know what to say in response, so he merely nodded.

That was far from the full story, but it was just enough to answer to root of the question: Ulf wanted to know what kind of trouble James had gotten himself into, and the kind of trouble spoke of what kind of man James was.

He looked down into his lap, forcing himself to refrain from any self-soothing gestures. He doubted Ulf or Lyall cared, but despite this being the safest interrogation he'd ever been subjected to, something inside of him wouldn't let him relax. His mind and his body didn't seem to understand each other.

"I'm not proud of many things in my past," James said after what felt like too long of a pause. "But I'm doing everything in my power to change who I am in the future."

Perhaps that was too strong of a claim. How did one measure the effort for 'self improvement?' How did one measure self improvement at all? Regardless, he couldn't shove the words back in his mouth.

The only indication that Ulf heard him at first was a small raise of both brows. "Alright," he said softly. "That's all anyone can ask of a person."

The ensuing silence between them stretched out for a beat.

"I... assume that might've been one of the bigger questions," James said, desperate to move the conversation forward. "It usually is, with the posters being as vague as they are. 'High Treason' implies I tried to usurp the king, but I think they merely used that language to create urgency in finding me in light of my betrayal. Had I actually tried to overthrow the king or cause him any harm, I wouldn't be wanted alive."

And he wouldn't be alive at all. But that went without saying.

"Of course," Lyall piped up, "using people's general disregard for semantics. It's practically outright deceit."

Ulf waved a dismissive hand. "There is nothing new under the sun. We're veering a bit here, though."

James looked between the two of them, expectant.

With a slight cough, Ulf folded his hands over his lap as if to appear more composed. But he couldn't help his grin when he eventually asked, "So, 'Uncle James'? These 'talks' notwithstanding, you've already been folded into the family, it seems."

James shrugged slightly.

"I'm not sure I would take it too literally," James said. "They call Robin, Raj, and Bo uncles too."

"Might I note," Lyall said, "Cypress doesn't use the term lightly."

James smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I... I mean, I'm honored that they consider me family," James said, already feeling like he was digging a hole.

Waving him down, Ulf chuckled. "My apologies, I've prodded at you for long enough." Standing, he swept out both arms in almost a grand gesture and said, "I hereby release you--"

"For now," Lyall added with a grin, likewise rising and tucking his hands in his pockets.

James wasn't sure what he expected, but he felt like conversation was simultaneously the longest and the shortest one he'd ever had.

Blinking, he hesitated to get up right away.

Ulf cleared his throat. "If it's any consolation, this was hardly a comfortable exchange on my end as well. I do thank you for going along with it. Giving a perhaps-still-paranoid man some peace of mind."

Ah. Well. James could understand that. He bowed his head as he stood.

"Of course, Ulf," James said. "And we should talk more. Though I hope next time it can be more relaxed for both our sakes'."

Ulf brightened. "Of course! Of course, that would be splendid." He offered his hand for a shake.

James took it and shook firmly. Rather than pulling away, Ulf pulled him into a tight hug complete with a hearty pat to his shoulder. James found himself frozen in a delayed reaction. By the time he even thought to attempt to return the hug, Ulf had already stepped away, ready to rejoin the festivities.

James watched as Ulf waved for him to follow into the main room. James's eyes flicked to Lyall, who likewise warmly patted James's shoulder as he passed.

Though James wanted to follow, he found himself lagging behind as the two brothers departed, his feet temporarily stuck to the ground.

He was fine. He was fine. Why did the room feel so small?

He distantly registered Hild appearing around the corner, momentarily catching her eldest brother on his way out. The conversation got lost in the background chatter of the full room, and James overheard none of it - but he wasn't trying to.

There was a faint ringing in his ears that grew louder.

As she drew closer, Hild's lingering smile faded with concern.

"It was fine," James said compulsively, but his voice sounded quiet under the sound of ringing.

"That's entirely convincing," she murmured, somewhat flatly. "You look unwell."

Unwell? He didn't feel sick. Just...

"I just need a moment," he said quietly, looking down at the floor.

Hild slipped her hand in his. "The office is quiet. Will that help?"

The ringing in his ears almost drowned out her voice. He nodded his head.

Holding her hand tightly, he let her lead the way. In what felt like the blink of an eye, they were in the hallway. Then, the next moment, in a small candlelit room. Once the door was closed, it sheltered them from the noise of the gathering.

James didn't remember sitting down, but the moment he did, everything hit him at once.

His chest started to hurt with a deep, piercing ache and he curled over, feeling his heart beat rapidly, pounding inside of him like it was trying to get out. He ducked his head into his arms, trying to take in deep breaths as his whole body started to tremble outside of his control.

But this wasn't the first time he'd felt something like this, and he knew it wouldn't be over in a minute.

Fingers gripping the sleeves of his coat, he pinched his eyes shut.

Hild was close. Somehow that knowledge was a comfort and a burden. It was only a burden because he feared he was a burden - to her.

He hated that this was happening at a party. He hated that it came out of nowhere. It wasn't like he hadn't told others his story a million times before - because he had, and in more depth and detail than he'd even told Ulf. He'd had people far more pushy and invasive pick and pry at the details of his life and he'd never crumbled like this moments after.

But he knew it wasn't about that. This wasn't about the Ashlund brothers, or Hild, or any of that.

It felt like it took ages for him to get his breathing patterns to something at least comparably steady, but when he could at least take a deep breath without it being broken, he slowly raised his head.

The storm was beginning to pass. He could feel it receding slowly.

He stared blankly at the space ahead of him, and time as a concept grew warped.

At some point, the ringing in his ears stopped being so loud, and it was like all of the sounds around him came into focus, like how a picture would when he put on his glasses.

He could hear the faint flickering of the candlelight. The buried, muffled party happening somewhere beyond the four walls of the office. The air felt thick and heavy, but he didn't know if that was because of his presence and the unsettled feeling in his stomach or because the room felt so empty compared to the bustling party only moment before.

Hild was sitting crosslegged on the edge of desk, within arm's reach of him.

Swallowing slowly, he flicked his eyes towards her, but he didn't hold eye contact.

"It's not their fault," he said quietly, hugging his own shoulders a little tighter before he released the tension and dropped his hands into his lap.

She nodded slightly. "Okay."

"Just... so you don't berate them later," James said faintly, not sure if now was the time to attempt humor, but doing it anyway.

Hild offered a faint grin. "I won't. Not for that, anyway."

James let out a puff of air through his nose.

"Right."

They were still her brothers.

He looked down at his hands.

"We should... probably get back," James said. "Lest your brothers grow suspicious."

"They'll be fine." Softer, Hild added, "There's no rush."

James nodded once. Despite wanting to move, his body still felt stiff and tense.

He wished he knew what to say in the bout of silence that followed. Finally, he forced himself to come up with something. Anything at all.

"Lyall seemed to be the only one enjoying the... well, I'm not sure what to call it," James said. "But Ulf seems a nice fellow. Hopefully I can get to know him more with time."

Hild scoffed. "Sounds about right. Despite being the eldest, Lyall isn't always the most mature." Unfolding her legs, she let her feet dangle.

"Apparently, he'd told Ulf next to nothing about me," James said. "I'd have thought he'd have mentioned-- well-- something..."

"Well, that is a surprise," she hummed.

"I wasn't expecting having to explain where I was for two months," James said quietly. "Of course, neither of them pressed for details. But..."

It made things awkward to say the least.

Reaching down, Hild took one of his hands in hers. "I trust Ulf was at least tactful?"

"He was," James said softly, squeezing her hand.

"Good." She offered a faint smile. "I'm sure he'd love to talk more with you, in more natural settings about the lighter things."

"I was hoping they'd ask about you," James said. "But I'm afraid my past might've scared them off."

"Believe me, there's not much you could scare us with," Hild answered, voice reassuring. "Ulf likely wanted to relent for your sake."

James hummed faintly. He was grateful for the compassion of Ulf not to pry, but he did wonder if it made them worry. Maybe it was better not to wonder too much about what they thought.

He looked down into his lap for a moment and took in a deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh.

He felt tired. But the party wasn't over, and he didn't want to be the last to come and the first to leave - they'd only just finished dinner. They had more planned, and he didn't want to miss it because he was... well...

He rubbed his face with his hands and looked up, nodding to himself in resolution.

"Alright," he said simply. "I think I can go back in."

Of course, he didn't feel normal. He wasn't sure he'd feel settled for the rest of the night, even, as the tightness in his chest still remained, but he didn't want to let it hinder him from experiencing his first Ashlund party. Hild had told him stories upon stories about them. He knew he wanted to get back in there.

He forced himself to his feet, patting himself down as he tried to collect himself.

He was fine. This was fine. He was going to be fine. He could feel this later, when he wasn't at a party, supposed to be having fun.

Turning to Hild, he tried to flash her a small, reassuring smile. Though he wasn't sure how well she could see through him these days.

He offered her his hand.

Quirking a brow, Hild took his hand as she slipped off the desk to her feet. "You're sure?"

James nodded slightly, and leaned in for a quick peck on the top of her head.

"The party's only just started," he said as he pulled away.

She laced their fingers together. "Just remember that there's no obligation to stay the whole time," she said with a faint grin. "These things used to go well into the night."

"Well, we'll see how long I last," James said with a small smirk, tugging her towards the door. "It will be a test of my party stamina."

At that, they left the office and Hild helped lead them back into the main room, where the wall of sound hit James almost immediately.

All of the overlapping conversations surrounded him like a thick blanket, and James could hardly decipher one from the other. He found himself looking to Hild to lead them, not sure which conversation to insert himself into.

With their hands still clasped, Hild carefully weaved them around friends and furniture. She stopped at Lyall's side for only a brief moment. She dropped her voice to a murmur, and what she said to her brother was rendered inaudible by the noise around them. Lyall gave only a small huff in response, then politely excused himself from the conversation and disappeared into the kitchen.

Lyall had previously been talking with Larrel and Mel, and in his absence, Hild took her brother's seat. James took the seat on the couch beside his sister, and Larrel leaned into his shoulder with a fond smile.

"I saw you get whisked away by the brothers," Larrel commented.

"Ah," James said. "Yes."

"I'm happy you're still alive," she said. "Otherwise I'd have to kill them."

She glanced at Hild.

"No offense," she added.

Hild snorted. "You'd just have to wait your turn."

"Oh, right, right," Larrel said, raising her hands up. "Sister priveliges."

Hild inclined her head and gestured like that was a given.

"It looked to me like it was mostly for show," Mel interjected with a smirk. "Ulf seemed to like you before you even walked in."

"Doesn't Ulf like everybody, though?" Larrel said. "He's just got that way about him."

"It was definitely just for show," Hild confirmed flatly. "Ulf can't help but like everybody."

"Must be nice," Larrel said. "If I don't like somebody I have to do so much--"

She crooked her fingers and made a digging motion around her chest, like that was more efficient than words.

"You know?" she asked.

"You mean the part where you have to choose to be kind anyway?" James asked with a raised brow.

"Well that's if I get to the being kind part," Larrel said through a huff of a sigh. "Still working on that."

"What, being cordial?" Mel asked.

"I mean, I guess you can call it that," Larrel said. "Maybe I'm just... I don't know. It's less about what I do and more just how I feel on the inside. Takes a lot longer for the feelings to catch up to the decisions you make in your head, you know?"

Mel hummed loudly in understanding.

"That's part of growing up," she said.

Larrel made a face, pulling her lips back into a displeased sort or frown.

"Mmmmmyeah," she said.

"Growing pains," James said, patting her back lightly.

"Except I'm not growing up anymore," Larrel said. "Only way I can grow now is out."

At that, she patted her stomach. James huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes.

Clapping off his hands as though to cleanse himself of some hard work, Lyall strode back into the sitting room. "It seems the rule of 'see a problem, be a problem-solver' is out the window nowadays," he said cheerfully but with a pointed look to his sister.

Hild gave him an unamused glance. "It certainly seems so," she smoothly replied, "as you've been out here longer than I have, and neglected to act first."

Lyall waved both hands dismissively. "Bah, it's been taken of now, it's fine."

Without missing a beat, he turned on his heel and dropped back into what was previously his seat, effectively squishing his sister and blocking her entirely from view. Hild squeaked in surprise and swatted at his back.

"Oh, Lyall!" Larrel chirped beside James. "There's no need for that! There's space for you on the couch."

There wasn't, in fact, space, but James saw the look in Larrel's eye and knew what was coming before she even did it.

Larrel bounced off her spot and plopped onto James, leaving the space where she formerly sat empty. James grunted, but at least Larrel wasn't that heavy.

"Much appreciated, kind miss," Lyall said with a broad, laughing smile. Shifting around so that he was draped over her lap and the arms of the chair, he allowed Hild some room to breathe (and thus glare directly at him). "However, there was already a perfectly viable vacancy here."

Folding her hands together, Hild heavily leaned her elbows on his stomach. Lyall took the hit with an 'oof', but crossed his arms and otherwise didn't budge.

"You two have become quite the delightful duo," she deadpanned, but failed to hide her own sincere amusement with their antics.

"Oh, are we a duo now?" Larrel whispered, but only James overheard.

"You do have a tendency to compete for attention," James whispered back.

Larrel shoved her hands in James's face, sputtering. James turned his face away with a smirk but Larrel swatted his shoulder in a chiding manner.

"Hey, careful," James said. "Glasses."

Larrel huffed but reached over as he turned his face back to her and she gently adjusted his glasses on his nose. Wordlessly, she hopped off his lap onto the seat next to her, seeing as Lyall rejected her offer anyway. With a sigh she slumped back into James's shoulder.

"Hild, can you breathe over there?" James asked.

With a mischievious glint in her eyes, Hild leaned harder on her brother.

"She's fine," Lyall wheezed, flailing a little.

"You two are ridiculous," Mel laughed.

"What's a little suffocation between brother and sister?" Larrel said, though she clearly only said it to be funny. And it got Mel to laugh more.

"It's-- suffocating--" Lyall dramatically sputtered. "Oh! Salvation! Cas!"

On his way to what seemed like the kitchen, Caspar paused to scan the room. It was only when Lyall waved both hands that he then looked down. He pursed his lips in confusion.

"What--"

"He's fine," Hild answered plainly.

"Murder!" Lyall cried at the same. "Help!"

With a quiet hum, Caspar was quick to simply accept. Grasping his friend by the back of his jacket, he plucked Lyall from Hild's hold, and held him aloft like a cat by its scruff. "I believe Ulf has us transitioning into the next phase of the night," he addressed everybody as he dusted Lyall off.

"Oh! What phase?" Larrel asked, sitting up straight.

"The entertainment," Lyall answered, batting Caspar's hand away; huffing a laugh, Caspar set him on his feet. "Dance, accompanied by music. Usually the classics, and only the liveliest of jaunts."

As if on cue, Bo stood at the edge of the room and clapped twice, quite loud to gather everyone's attention. When James looked over, it seemed they had a small band arranged. Ulf stood there with a fiddle in hand beside Bo with his wife Therese, and on the other side stood Raj with a wooden flute. As for Bo, he was standing over a wooden cajon.

"Alright everyone!" Bo announced. "Clear the living room so there's space to dance!"

At that, everyone was quick to pull all of the chairs to the edges of the room, creating something of a dancefloor in the middle. Just as the way was made clear, Bo sat down on the hand-drum and started a fast beat. He called some instructions back to Ulf and Raj, and they started to come in. Ulf with a lively melody first, and Raj with a counter-melody complimenting it.

James watched Larrel dart across the room to grab Petrus, who seemed to have been hiding somewhere until Larrel dragged him into view. He watched as his parents took one another's hands and started to sway to the music, Robin rallied up Lyall's and Ulf's kids, and Mel sought out Caspar before he could find anyone else.

James found himself making eye contact with Hild, and he slowly walked up to her and extended his hand.

Finally, they would get to really dance. With music, this time.

Unabashedly, Hild smiled and took his hand. James found himself beaming as he pulled her out onto the dancefloor, and almost immediately, they fell into step with one another.

As Bo opened with the first verses, Therese jumped in with a high harmony.



As Lyall had promised, it was quite upbeat. Each pair stood facing each other with hands set on their hips. James and Hild followed followed suit. Three marching steps, three claps. They clasped hands, stepped in, then back out. Then hooking arms, they spun about each other before returning to their starting positions.

This was one of the simpler dances, but fun regardless.



During one of the spins, Hild was briefly bumped into James. James caught and steadied her with a small laugh. Caspar apologized profusely, and Hild easily laughed it off too once she knew it was unintentional. Mel quickly teased that he was still getting the hang of it before they quickly returned to the flow of the music.



Mostly everyone was in sync as they eventually formed a rough ring, similar to a waltz. James and Hild warmly held each other's hands as they walked the circumference of the dancefloor.



The ring of dancers tightened as they spiraled inward, then opened up as they moved outward again. Almost symbolic of life lying dormant in the song, then the world re-awakening for spring once more. They followed the seasons' cycles of the last stanza for the ending instrumental.

Ulf took the lead in a passionate, lively lead melody on the fiddle, clearly putting his heart and soul into it. Bo and Raj matched the energy and followed Ulf's cues as the music finally crescendoed to a stop.

As the music came to an end, everyone lifted their hands in the circle and lowered them with a bow, then released. Several of the others immediately began to chatter and laugh with one another while James turned to Hild with a warm smile. He offered his arm to pull her into a hug. Wrapping her arm around his waist, she leaned into his shoulder with a bright laugh.

"I hadn't heard that song before," she said, "but the melody was at least familiar."

"We'll have to ask them where it's from later," James suggested, pulling away slowly, but letting his hand linger by Hild's.

He noticed Petrus retreating from the dancefloor, despite Larrel encouraging him to stay. He couldn't hear them, but even without reading their lips he understood that Petrus was determined to step out, leaving Larrel without a dance partner.

Larrel stood at the edge of the group with a small pout, looking a bit lost while Bo talked with Ulf, Therese, and Raj about the next song to go into.

Just as James was about to excuse himself from Hild to go to his sister, Lyall side-stepped into view and was quick to offer a hand with an ridiculously deep bow. Larrel immediately brightened and, with a similarly exaggerated curtsy, took his hand.

James looked down to Hild with a grin as the next song began with Bo belting out: "One! Two! Three! Four!"

And so they fell into another dance, and another, and another. The music and the dancing went on into the night, filling it with laughter. Eventually the musicians took a break and Ulf directed everyone to get seconds and refreshments after all the dancing, and the party came to a small lull as everyone rested and chatted, more relaxed as it was starting to get late.

James's parents were the first guests to dismiss themselves for the night, and everyone waved them out with overlapping wishes farewell. Robin dipped out soon after - not trying to make a show of it until Lyall did so for him - which resulted in a wolf darting out the door.

With the resident babysitter gone, Therese ended up dismissing the children to go to bed - Cypress and Lilya included, leaving the room to the remaining adults as the children went to bed - or at least pretended to.

James noted that at around that juncture, he lost sight of Caspar and Mel.

Good for them, wherever they were.

With the children gone, Ulf brought out a bottle of unlabeled wine, going around to give those who wanted some a glass. It was at about that moment that Raj excused himself from the party, and everyone echoed their goodbyes before returning to their former conversations.

"Gods, yes," Lyall said as he eagerly took a glass, "it's been ages."

Ulf chuckled as he slowly poured. "Poor sod. So deprived."

James found himself sitting with Lyall and Ulf - but this time, with no interrogation involved. At least, not yet.

"When was the last time you had wine?" James asked, looking down into his own glass.

It was red wine. In the lamplight of the living room - or rather, with his glasses - he could see the bubbles rising from the bottom.

Leaning back, Lyall swirled the wine in his glass, then took a sip. Closing his eyes, he hummed lowly as he savored it, then let out a refreshed sigh. Ulf laughed incredulously and mumbled, "Oh gods, do you need a moment?"

James took the moment to take a long sip of his own, letting the bittersweet taste linger in his mouth.

Delayed, Lyall finally answered James, "Six months, give or take."

"Hm," was James's only worthwhile commentary on that.

It was a long time, for sure, but James knew his perception of what was considered a "normal amount of time" to go without certain things was severely skewered.

He looked down into his glass in thought.

It had been a while, for him, since he'd drank. Even longer since he'd had wine of all things.

They were sitting at the dinner table. Bo was at the other end, carrying on a lively conversation with Therese, Larrel, and Hild. There was a seat of space between them and where James sat with the brothers.

After pouring for Therese, then his sister, Ulf sat down and finally poured himself a glass. Sitting opposite to James and at the far other end, Hild also took a small first taste with her eyes closed. She didn't linger on it as Lyall had, though, and turned her attention back to Bo and Therese.

James found himself taking another sip, idly.

"Year?" Lyall asked.

Ulf shrugged and tapped the side of the bottle. "How could I know? It was a gift from a neighbor sometime ago."

Lyall waved dismissively. "Nevermind, it's good regardless."

"I'll pass along your compliments," Ulf said with a small smile.

His brother shook his head. "Tell me who they are so I can hunt them down for the maker myself."

Ulf barked a laugh. "Please don't. I can only move so far from such humiliation down here." Nodding to James, he asked, "Has it likewise been awhile for you? Since your last drink."

James blinked.

"Oh," he said. "Yes. Some months, now. Maybe nine months or so. It's all a bit foggy, now."

Ulf hummed. To Lyall: "He outlasted you."

Lyall waved it off as he drank more. James huffed a weak laugh through his nose and did the same, taking another drink.

"It helps to be in the wilderness, far from society," James said. "You live without many comforts. Wine is only one of them."

"Oh!" Lyall snapped his fingers. "On your travels: best drink you've ever had? Or meal, if you want to keep your options open."

James had to pause at that - not because he'd never had a good meal or drink in his life, but because so many of the details got muddled by how much life happened in between.

He tapped his fingers on the table in thought.

"I suppose... it may not have been the best meal I had in all actuality, but I was quite hungry at the time, which probably colored my perception. But one time I was on the coast of the isles and had this hot, steaming noodle soup from a shack off the docks, and nothing's quite compared to it since. It helped that the meal was paid for, too. Nothing tastes as good as free food," he said, looking up to the ceiling as he recalled, then to Lyall and Ulf briefly.

"That, alongside some sake," he added. "That's the first memory that stands out, anyway."

Ulf brightened. "Oh, you've been to the Isles?"

"I'm pretty well-traveled," James said with a shy, faint smile as he looked down. "The only area I haven't explored thoroughly is Lettera. But I've at least passed through or by most other cities south of The Wilds."

He took another, slightly longer drink. He realized he was quickly running out of wine to sip on as he looked back down into the glass, now well over half-empty. It was nearly gone.

His own glass already emptied, Lyall took the bottle and topped off James's for him, before refilling for himself. With his elbow propped on the arm of his chair and his chin resting on his hand, Ulf managed to not appear too amused as he watched.

James paused for a moment, staring at his glass blankly.

Two drinks. He'd keep count. Only two.

Taking another sip, he looked to Ulf.

"Have you been to the west? Goulon has mild winters. It's pretty nice this time of year," James said.

Ulf shook his head. "Can't say that I have, though that does sound lovely." He picked up his glass; drinking slowly as he was, he was still on his first. "My family and I were fortunate enough to have settled into the guild awhile ago. Once we got here, I hadn't really gone out much since."

"Ah, so this has been home for you for a few years, now, then," James concluded.

"Indeed, it has," Ulf said with a nod.

"The idea of travel in general never much thrilled him," Lyall butted in with a grin. "Even though he was the first to move away."

"Nothing wrong with wanting to be settled," James said. "I can especially undestand how that'd change with family."

"No, I concede as much," Lyall said, raising a hand in surrender. "It was just the speed at which he packed his things--"

Ulf hummed a laugh. "I heardtell that distance makes the heart grow fond. I was ready to test it."

"To test how fast you'd miss home?" James asked. "Or Lyall in particular?"

Ulf paused. Then nodded. "Yes," he said with a heartier laugh. "One took much longer than the other."

James looked at Lyall with an apologetic smirk.

Lyall unconcernedly took another sip. "It was Hild, obviously," he mumbled into his glass.

"Naturally," James said, taking another long sip.

Content as he was to be a homebody, Ulf did circle back and asked James what Goulon was like. James didn't mind sharing about the places he'd seen. He couldn't share as much about the people since his interactions were brief, but he did get to experience a little bit more of Goulon for a bit as he'd gotten ahead of the spread of his posters for a few weeks. Of course, it didn't last long.

He was in the middle of explaining Goulon's weapons' trade when Mel and Caspar returned back to the party quietly. Mel came over to the table and apologized to Lyall and Ulf that she had to depart, but thanked them for hosting.

Only having returned for but a moment, Cas was quick to offer to walk Mel home, to which Mel bashfully obliged.

But just as Mel turned to leave and Caspar too, to follow, James noticed Caspar hesitate as his eyes fell on James.

Or more specifically, the drink in his hand.

James caught the flash of concern in his eyes, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat in panic.

Caspar was the only one to whom James had adamantly declared he didn't drink anymore. And... for good reason.

Caspar didn't linger on it, though, never called attention to it. Offering everyone a small nod and smile, he patted Lyall's shoulder as he promised to return shortly.

And then he was gone again, and they were another two people lesser.

As if Mel and Caspar's departure was some kind of cue, Bo got up from the table and loudly announced something along the lines of: "oh look at the time," but James found everyone's voices overlapped, and he didn't quite process the goodbyes and last minute quips as Bo made his way to the door.

He found himself staring into an empty glass by the time they were left with six people at the table. Therese and Larrel seemed to pick up right where they left off, but their voices were a distant background noise.

Once he closed the door behind them, Caspar set aside his lingering concerns for James for later addressing.

'Outside' the apartment was cooler, and less crowded. Even when it was a room full of friends, it was still a room filled to the brim with people and busy-ness and noise. The quiet and cool and openness of the main residential hall was a much needed reprieve.

And offering to walk Mel back was the perfect way to spend just a few more minutes with her before the night turned.

He wondered if he seemed too eager. Should he dial it back a bit?

They walked almost shoulder to shoulder. Caspar looked out and around, just to keep from looking at her too much, and was hyperaware of how their hands almost brushed.

This felt like a good time to talk, he thought. Normally he just wouldn't know what to say. Now, he had a thousand thoughts (self-doubts, especially) and questions (like, maybe Mel just really enjoyed their friendship and he was reading way too much into everything), and simply didn't know where to start.

So he opted for quiet for now. It was a comfortable silence, anyway, so he took it as an opportunity to weigh his options.

'You look nice,' but he already said that earlier.

'Did you enjoy the party?' Oh, that could be a good angle. Maybe something more specific, though. Maybe...something about the dancing?

"I--" He cleared his throat to keep from stammering too much. "I had fun dancing with you tonight. Usually it's-- it's just okay. For me. Dancing, in general, I mean. But-- Yeah. It was fun."

Mel looked up at him with a small smile, but her eyes were bright and beaming.

"I had fun too," she said. "I would like that we could dance more. Then you'd get better at it."

Ducking his head, he huffed a laugh. "Definitely room for improvement," he agreed. "Hild tried her best on instructing me, but." He shrugged.

"Well, I'd be happy to take over as your teacher," Mel said, slipping her hand into his.

His heart leapt. Her touch was warm, and a familiar comfort, yet electrifying. Carefully, Caspar closed his hand around hers. She squeezed his hand.

"That'd be really nice," he said quietly, only able to mirror her smile a moment before dropping his gaze back down to their shoes.

The rest of the walk was quiet from there. With their hands entwined, he had something to focus on while he settled his thoughts and pared down his many questions to just one, maybe two. Frankly, what he wanted to say felt juvenile, but he had to concede that he was still relatively inexperienced at this.

Before long, Mel pointed out her home. Caspar presumed Raj was already back, since he'd left before they had.

Mel stopped in front of her door and turned to face him, her hand still in his as she looked up, raising her brows in what looked like expectation.

"So, should I say it first?" she asked.

He turned his eyes up from their hands to her face, brows furrowing slightly as his mind (conveniently) blanked.

"I want to be more than friends," she said. "And considering I do like you more than the average amount, I'd like to stop dancing around it now."

Well, that was one question answered.

Capar felt his face grow warm as he glanced down and stammered incoherently for a second. Swallowing down his self-doubts, he forced himself to meet her eyes again and just couldn't help his elated smile.

"I-- I really want that too," he said. "You're...fun, you're kind, confident, you're-- you're too smart for me. I...really, very much like you too."

Mel beamed.

"That's very good news for me," she said.

Caspar laughed. Shifting his weight between both feet, he awkwardly added, "Probably not...new news."

Mel laughed. It was such a pretty sound, he thought.

"Well, you're not exactly subtle," she said. "But I like that about you."

Self-conscious and unsure of how to respond, he looked down again.

"So..." Mel spoke up. "We should go on a date, I think. A proper one."

Right! That was the next step in this, wasn't it?

Feeling words were beyond him now from his excitement, Caspar nodded dumbly.

"Maybe you could stop by tomorrow evening and we could pick a day. It looks like you're a little worn out from all the partying. You should get some rest," Mel suggested.

Blinking, he nodded once more, then managed to pipe up again, "Uh, yeah. Sounds good. You've got. Morning stuff, too, so."

"Yes," she said with a smile. "Work. 'Tis a part of life."

Slipping her hand out of his, she began to turn, looking over her shoulder with a grin that still hadn't faded.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then?" she asked, her hand on the door.

Tucking his hands in his pockets, Caspar gave a small, encouraged smile. "Yeah, see you then."

Mel nodded and stepped inside, giving him one last big smile as she held the door open a crack.

"Goodnight, Cas," she said.

He took this moment to just. Stare at her, etch into his memory the curves of her face, and the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled.

"G'night, Mel," he said.

And with a small nod of her head, the door closed.

Caspar lingered a minute, staring blankly at the door.

This was happening. She liked him!

There honestly was hardly question about that, they'd both been steadily inching toward this point in the past month.

She wanted to go on a date with him!

He hadn't known how to actually start anything. And now that this was set in motion, he realized that Mel was right. He found himself without, and wishing for the energy to begin planning for the date.

Deciding he'd lingered long enough and didn't want to appear strange, he turned and began the walk back to Ulf's home. Unsure of who still remained, Caspar knocked on the door first. Hild let him in. Without any fanfare as her brothers would have, but rather with a very knowing look. Caspar just gave her a nod of thanks and ducked inside.

It seemed Bo had left by now. Probably shortly after Caspar and Mel. Therese was still at the table, her empty glass set aside as she spoke with Petrus. Who had been mysteriously absent since the first dance, if Caspar recalled correctly.

At the other end of the table, Lyall and James were likewise where Caspar had left them. When their eyes met, Lyall excitedly waved Caspar in.

"Dear friend!" Lyall said, a little louder than necessary. "Please, take a seat, have a refreshment. Join the merriment, if you felt so inclined!"

Nodding his acknowledgement, Caspar took the seat on the end. Adjacent to Lyall, so that the doctor sat between him and James.

Tipping sideways in his chair, Lyall leaned closer. "Tell us how the walk was. You better-- Oh, hold that thought, I'll get you a drink first--"

With a small fond smile, Caspar adjusted Lyall so that the risk of falling to the floor wasn't so imminent. He then loosely clasped his hands together as he gave the wine bottle a sideways glance. Tempting as the offer was, he eventually answered, "I'm good, thanks."

"Fine," Lyall conceded, "fine." He took up his glass and took a long drink. "So you better have news to share."

He mentally rewound to the talk by Mel's for. His heart skipped a beat when he remembered their planned visit tomorrow, and Mel smiling so brightly at him.

Caspar blinked and sat straighter. "Right! Yes, news."

Lyall waited.

"Uhm, Mel and I plan to--" Caspar started.

"I knew it!" Lyall declared. "It was bound to happen, it was just a matter of when. Congrats, Cas! Mazal tov!" He bumped his hand to James's shoulder. "James, congratulate our hopeless friend."

James laughed lightly and looked over to Caspar with a smile.

"I'm happy for you two," he said.

Caspar smiled and inclined his head. "Thanks. We, uh, have plans to make plans."

Lyall raised his glass. "Still progress. To which we drink--" And he reached for the near-empty bottle.

Ulf swooped in from nowhere and snatched it before his brother could. "Aaand I believe that's actually enough for the time being."

Lyall objected, loudly, but didn't fight it.

"How many did they...?" Caspar asked quietly.

Pinning his brother with a pointed look, Ulf answered emphatically, "Plenty."

With a pout, Lyall stared despondently at his empty cup. Seeming to avidly avoid eye-contact, James quietly slurped what remained in his.

Caspar nodded with a faint grin. "Good to know."

His offer to assist with any clean up was politely declined. As was Therese's, Ulf insisted he take point there since everyone else had done their part with setup.

"Well," Therese said in response, "I'm not obligated to listen to you," and marched into the kitchen after her husband.

This left Lyall and James on one side of the table, and Hild and Petrus on the other. All seemingly at the very least buzzed and fairly relaxed. And some uncharacteristically quiet. Half of them. The Ashlunds, obviously. James and Petrus were always more comfortable with silence and sitting with their thoughts than Lyall or Hild could manage on a good day. Which made Caspar absently wonder what exactly each were thinking at the moment.

Lyall appeared to stumble upon some revelation in his thoughts. With brows raised, he swept an arm toward Petrus and said, "You seemed to all but disappear after the first dance. What became of you afterward?"

Petrus stared at him for a moment, seemingly caught off guard, then tried to laugh off his initial reaction.

"Oh," he said. "I just got some air is all. Dancing's not really my thing."

From the corner of his eye, Caspar caught James's utterly doubtful look.

Lyall just hummed, putting on a show of his curiosity being sated by nodding and stroking his chin. "Quite avoidant, myes," he mused. Then paused, as if he hadn't meant to say that out loud. Quickly, he tried to amend, "Which is to say-- Of social...ness. The social..." He waved a hand in a wide circle. "It. All. In general. You were trying to hide from the moment you got here."

"In fairness," Caspar piped up, offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile, "it was a little overwhelming."

James turned his face away from the conversation, and Petrus, again, looked entirely caught off guard. He laughed nervously.

"Well, it's-- I mean, it's been a lot to adjust to, you know," Petrus said vaguely.

Lyall nodded vigorously. "Of course. Not a bad thing. Understandable, really. It just seemed like you really didn't want to be here for a while, which." He shrugged. "Not to say that we weren't happy to have you, we like you here. Right?" He looked across the table to his sister for backup. "We like him here."

Looking up from what must have been an interesting grain pattern in the table, Hild nodded. "Sure, yes." Then tiredly shook her head and waved for Lyall to simply leave her out of this.

Might be wise, Caspar thought. Lyall had reached the point where running his mouth could be socially hazardous.

Caspar coughed. "It was fun, though," he said in a meager attempt to salvage the quickly tanking conversation. "You guys still know how to throw a great party." He glanced over his shoulder in hopes that Ulf might take notice and step in.

"It really has been fun," Petrus echoed, though Caspar noticed he was getting up to leave. "It's getting late, though. So I should probably head out."

Lyall likewise stood in acknowledgement. "Yes, of course."

Hild nodded again, lifting her chin but not quite meeting anyone's eyes. "Thank you for coming," she added in a pleasant tone of voice, "have a lovely evening."

"You too," Petrus said just as politely. "Rest well."

And with no further fanfare, he was quick to slip out and head to the door. Once the door clicked shut behind him, Caspar reached over and tugged Lyall back down into his seat.

"How many did you have exactly?" Caspar asked in a murmur.

"I had some," Lyall answered slowly. Then briefly glanced off. "What did I have now?"

"Drinks," Caspar clarified.

"Ah." Lyall grinned and nodded. "I had some."

From across the table, Hild held up three fingers.

Ulf's arrival was timely. He frowned when he noticed Petrus's absence. "Oh," was all he said with the air of a sad, wet puppy.

"Fine, yes," Lyall answered, delayed, "it was three. Gods, Hild, you're annoying. With your numbers and..." He waved vaguely, at a loss for the word.

"Coun'ing," James said abruptly.

Lyall snapped his fingers in vindication. "Yes. You and your counting. Ugh. Gods. Just stop."

Tilting her head, Hild just smiled confusedly.

Leaning forward to look around Lyall, Caspar gave a small wave to catch James's attention. "How about you?"

"Hm?" James asked. He was hunched over, leaning on the table with his shoulders drawn inward, like he'd been trying to keep himself as small as possible. In front of him, he still had his fingers loosely intertwined around the now-empty glass.

"The same, I believe," Hild answered, casting her brother a spiteful grin. Lyall looked aghast in response.

Caspar awkwardly cleared his throat. "Yeah, thanks, guys. Your counting is helpful, Hild."

Ulf patted his brother's shoulder. "I think you should allow your friend to walk you back. Since the girls are already hunkered down for the evening, they can sleep over here for the night."

"What?" Lyall looked outright affronted by the suggestion. "No, I'm grown. I can walk by myself. I don't need..." He threw his hands up in exasperation. "I'm grown."

"Of course you are," Caspar said placatingly.

"Debatable," Hild muttered.

"Consider, though," Caspar went on, giving her a slightly less appreciative look, "that I simply enjoy your company."

"...Okay," Lyall conceded. "My company is enjoyable. But I cannot simply leave my children--"

"They'll have fun with their cousins, I'm sure," Ulf said.

"But--"

Ulf easily pulled Lyall up to his feet and handed him his jacket. "And if anything happens, you're just a few doors down. I can bring them over in literally minutes."

Lyall had to further concede.

Stepping around him, Ulf lightly patted James on the shoulder. "Why don't you accompany them? Help keep my brother from wandering."

James stiffened under Ulf's pat for a moment, but the rest of his reaction was severely delayed.

It took him a few solid seconds before he nodded and wordlessly pushed out his chair and stood up. The sheer amount of time this all took had Caspar watching closely, and with some concern. Ulf caught on and began to backpedal.

It took some more shuffling about and arranging the walk back, but they eventually decided that Hild, who was still mostly sober, could stick around James's place for the night, and Caspar at Lyall's. Just to be sure. Lyall had some thoughts on the arrangement (particularly concerning Hild's placement), but was distracted easily enough with the thought of work the next day.

In fact, he was too easily distracted. Many times, he tried veering off course on the way home. Eventually, Caspar had to resort to literally keeping him close in a sort of side-hug. The little goofball objected loudly, predictably, but leaned heavily into him anyway.

James held up on his own. Well enough. When led. Staying in his lane seemed a bit of a challenge, and he said hardly a word since the party. It did come to a point where Caspar and Hild had to switch places as supports, though, when James began to lean his full weight sideways. And when Lyall fully registered the plan for the evening, and created an unreasonable amount of ruckus while fussing over his sister.

So the plan was altered a bit. Hild stuck with her brother (though not without some loud complaints of her own), and Caspar would continue on with James. As soon as the Ashlund duo departed, it was dead silent between the two of them.

This night had been thus far. Eventful, one could say. To be perfectly honest, this wasn't exactly how Caspar saw his night ending, and he was bone tired himself. The party, while truly fun, was draining, he rode a bit of an emotional high for his second wind for the sort-of-after-party, and the night wore on in quiet, three-drinks-drunk company, all the while low-key dreading sleep.

The thought that maybe he should have indulged in at least one cup of wine flashed in his mind.

When they made it to James's door, James pulled away from Caspar, going to far as to extend an arm between the two of them as he fumbled to get his key out of his pocket. Caspar still hovered a hand over James's shoulder as he waited.

James missed the keyhole the first two times. Then rested his his other hand on the knob and made it in, finally unlocking the door. He stashed the key away and stopped abruptly in the doorway, turning around with the door half open.

Without looking up, he wobbled in place before he reached out to brace himself against the doorframe.

"Thank you," he slurred. "I'll... be okay."

Caspar was tempted to ask whatever happened to sobriety.

"I could come back in the morning," he mumbled instead, "but also. Leaving doesn't feel quite right either..."

James still avoided eye contact, staring at the floor.

"Come back in the morning," James said quietly.

That might be the better time to talk, anyway.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Caspar couldn't help but sigh a little. "Sure."

James nodded, but said nothing more. Slowly, he drew back into his home and then closed the door.

Caspar stood blankly staring at the door for a moment. He wanted to say that he felt... maybe irritated. He wasn't entirely sure, but he certainly wasn't feeling as good as he did on the walk with Mel.

And, as ever, he wasn't sure if he would be crossing lines unwarranted, even though there was no doubt that he and James were friends. Should Caspar try to talk seriously about it? As far as he knew and could conclude from this evening, James hadn't shared his past troubles with addiction with any of the Ashlunds. And Caspar didn't want to appear like he was judging him either.

Sighing again, heavier this time, Caspar decided he was too damn tired to think at all anymore. With one last hesitation, he meandered back to his own place for the night, resigned to figure everything out in the following morning. Early morning probably, depending on how much rest he could truly manage.

What time was it?

James's head was pounding as he dared to open his eyes, peering into the dim light that filled his room that he didn't remember lighting. It took him a moment to get his bearing as the laid there, half-awake, still processing the events from last night's party - the good and the bad.

He could only vaguely remember turning on a light before going to bed. And he couldn't recall exactly how late it was when he'd finally fallen asleep either. He'd lied awake for so long, sitting in the darkness of his living room, fully dressed. Thinking.

His body ached. His mouth was dry. He was nauseas. He was hungry. Yet none of those things seemed as pressing as the last few moments that lingered in his mind, where he could feel Caspar's silence at the door practically screaming at him the words he wouldn't say.

He knew he wouldn't be able to avoid that conversation forever.

He rolled over in his bed, groaning as he pulled his pillow around to his chest, gripping it tightly.

One time. It was just one time. He wouldn't do it again.

There came a light rapping on the front door, just loud enough for him to hear.

James buried his face in his pillow. Not yet -- he wasn't -- but it didn't matter if he was ready, did it?

Barely awake, James gave his pillow one last squeeze, trying to get rid of every pent up emotion in that single moment. But when he let it go, they all still remained.

With a huff, he threw off his blanket and sat up, quickly regretting the speed at which he did so. His head throbbed harder as the nausea settled in, and he groaned a second time as he forcably pushed himself to his feet.

Looking down at himself, he remembered he'd at least managed to force himself into pajamas. His clothes - the ones Hild made for him - were laid out on the top of his dresser, a little sloppily, but still with intention and care.

The shirt he'd thrown on was oversized. He recalled obtaining it at some point in their travels to the guild. It was probably inherited from Caspar or someone else bigger than him. No one ever told him explicity whose clothes he was borrowing, and no one ever asked for them back either.

Drowning in the oversized t-shirt, he shuffled across the floor on bare feet. The floors were cold, and his bed had been warm, and his flannel pants only managed to carry some of that heat with him as he trudged through the hall to the front door.

And of course, it wasn't until he made it to the door that he realized he forgot his glasses.

Sighing, he forced himself to open the door no matter how unprepared he felt.

And as expected, there was Caspar. He stood a bit stiffly, his hands hidden in the pockets of his field coat. There were some wood shavings clinging to his clothes and boots, like he'd already been working, and the dark circles under his eyes betrayed the fact that he probably started whatever project it was far too early in the day. He managed a small smile in greeting all the same.

"Hey, Cas," James said. For being his first words spoken that morning, they sounded low and rough. And Tired.

It seemed they both were tired. He wondered if Cas slept.

"Hey." Caspar's faint smile turned apologetic. "Too early?"

James shook his head, and waved for Cas to come in.

"Not if you don't mind me waking up first," he said, his throat and mouth still feeling dry.

"Yeah, that's fine," he said simply.

James nodded and turned around, letting Cas follow in and close the door behind him. He shuffled his way to the kitchen where he got himself a glass of water, and poured one for Caspar too. He silently set both on the table while he rounded back into the kitchen and pulled some leftover bread out of his cupboard.

It was something.

Not bothering to cut it up or prepare it in any way, he simply walked back over to the table with half a roll of bread on a plate and sat down, drinking most of the water first before he started on the bread.

Sitting across from him, Caspar raised the water with a nod of thanks and drank at a slower pace.

They sat in silence for some time. James chipped away at the bread until he was about halfway through, and decided to pause.

Someone was going to have to break the silence. And James didn't feel like dancing around the subject, either. If he was going to talk about it, he'd rather get straight to the point.

"It would've been about 10 months," James said, staring into his now-empty glass of water. "Of sobriety."

Caspar nodded. "That's a good while."

James was quiet for a moment.

"Yeah," he said faintly.

But he found it difficult to say more.

He knew what he was doing last night by not saying anything, and just going along with it. He was ashamed that he hadn't even tried. There was a part of him that desparately hoped a drink would take the edge off, even in the slightest, from feeling the pain of everything that had happened. He'd hoped that maybe, just for the rest of the night, that it would keep everything at bay.

But all it did was make him feel guilty. And everything that haunted him was still there.

"I... don't know what to say," James said quietly. "I'm not proud of myself."

"You don't..." Caspar scratched behind his ear as he shifted a little in his seat. "I'm not...here to shame you or demand an explanation. I'm hardly in a position for that. Just." He shrugged. "Don't beat yourself up too much over it."

It felt a little late for that. But James nodded slightly.

"Okay," he said.

"...I think," Caspar eventually spoke up again, glancing off to the side, "I might know why, but... I can't be too sure, why you didn't say anything. Last night."

James swallowed.

"I... I wanted to get drunk," he said plainly. "And the Ashlunds didn't know about..."

His past issues of substance abuse. At least, not really.

Idly bouncing his leg, Caspar stared at the patterns of the wall.

"I don't know how to tell them," he said quietly. "It's not that I don't think they'd understand. I just..."

James stared down into his empty glass of water, holding it in both hands.

Caspar hummed.

James let go of the glass, and instead clasped his hands together tightly in his lap.

"Sometimes I'm afraid if they know too much, they'll realize I'm more of a burden than anything else," James admitted quietly, feeling the weight of his own words like a pit in his stomach. "And I'm terrified it won't work out. That they'll... leave, eventually. I'm afraid none of this is permanent."

A weighty silence stretched between them.

"Considering," Caspar said slowly, "what's already come before, what we've all been through together, I'm pretty sure they're in it for the long haul."

James let out a length sigh. Caspar had a point.

"I guess I just don't want them to think it wasn't worth it," James said, even quieter. "All that trouble... just for me."

Tilting his head, Caspar's brows ticked inward as his eyes softened with sympathy. "James, I know you have a hard time accepting this," he said with slightest tease in his voice, "but you are appreciated, and wanted as you are. We aren't going to just. Decide that you're no longer worth it when something else pops up."

James let go of his glass as his arms curled inward, and he hunched his shoulders, hugging his arms around his chest.

He looked down into his lap, feeling a guilt he couldn't seem to shake fill his stomach like a heavy pit.

"Even if I..." he hesitated, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth.

He swallowed, unable to finish his own sentence.

Like a heavy blanket settling over him, he realized that yes, he was worried about what others would think or do.

But he wasn't as worried as he said. He wasn't worried they'd give up on him so much as he was afraid he would give up on himself. And he didn't know how to admit that.

Brows furrowing more with confusion, Caspar gently prompted, "Even if...?"

James swallowed again.

"It's not that I want to give up entirely," James said. "It's just that... sometimes..."

It took a moment before understanding seemed to dawn on Caspar. He kept quiet, though.

"I just try not to think about it," James said. "And I stay busy. When I can. But some days... it's like everything I'm running from catches up to me. Which, maybe that's poetic. All my life I've been running, and even now I'm still trying to. I just want to escape it all because I'm too much of a coward to face it."

He leaned forward onto the table, holding his head in his hands.

"And so... wine just seemed like a good idea, for a moment," James said, his throat tight. "You know. To run again."

"It's..." Caspar cleared his throat. "Better as a. Very short term solution, I agree."

"I don't want to drink again," James said, head still in his hands. "Not really. I... it's better that I don't. And I know that."

With a quiet hum, Caspar finally drank some of the water James had poured for him. "Is...there anything I can do to help at all? I mean, maybe not, since, uh-- But..."

"I don't know," James said quietly. "I don't know what I need right now. I don't know how to... I'm just trying to keep my head above the water."

"...Okay," was all Caspar could say. Then added, quieter as if his head was turned, "I, uhm... I'm sorry I didn't come back inside sooner."

"It's fine," James said, still not ready to look up and show his face yet.

He rubbed his face, trying to think of a way to end this conversation in a way that was less depressing.

With one last sigh, he dragged his hands down his face as he looked up and then propped his chin in his hand, looking at Caspar.

"I'm glad you stopped by, Cas," James said. And he let a small pause pass before he continued.

"Are you hanging in there?" James asked.

Caspar mustered a faint smile and huffed a dry laugh. "In the spirit of transparency, you can just say that our chats are depressing as hell." Clearing his throat and sitting a little straighter, he answered, "To no one's surprise, I barely got any sleep. I...too much on my mind. But. In a mostly good way."

"How so?" James asked.

Ducking his head, Caspar restlessly bounced a leg. "Um, plans to make plans. Mel and I are going to talk more once she's out from work."

"That's good, right?" James asked. "Are you excited for that?"

Caspar nodded resolutely. "Of course! And also beyond nervous. I--" He shrugged and added in a mumble, "I've never actually done this before."

James let out a small amused huff through his nose and offered Caspar a tired smile.

"Are you looking for advice?" James asked, only half-serious.

Caspar raised both brows, grinning from amusement, yet managed to look seriously desperate when he looked up again. "Do you feel qualified to offer it, since the last time we broached the subject?"

James let out a weak but genuine laugh and shook his head.

"I don't know about qualified," James said. "But I could at the very least be a listening ear."

"Okay." Sitting straighter, Caspar asked, "You're, uh, sure you're up for deep-ish thinking, given...?" He gestured vaguely to James in his current state.

James looked down at himself.

"What, given that I'm hungover?" James asked.

Caspar shrugged.

"I'm fine," James said. "Go for it."

So, Caspar then detailed some ideas that he happened upon while reading various novels (with caution since they were fiction), and a few concerns about going too big or too little for a first date. He seemed to have already turned some things over in his own head enough times to have been able to narrow down the options, particularly to something like taking a pottery class or something simple like a walk through the gardens at night.

"Though it feels like that's all we've done the past months," Caspar eventually said after mulling it over a little more, "is walk endlessly surrounded by vegetation."

Before James could respond, a slow, heavy knock drew their attention to the door of his apartment. Caspar waved him down as he himself rose to answer it.

James had a feeling it could only be one of two people. He never had many visitors, anyhow.

It was either Hild or Lyall.

It turned out to be both, each extending their own polite greetings to Cas. Lyall sounded a little grumblier than usual, and Hild overly-pleasant.

"Brother's still got the kids," Lyall explained when asked about their absence. He slumped against the doorway. "Cas, old friend, light of my life, please. Move aside at once. The floor and I are about to become fast friends."

Hild made a sound akin to a snicker. Caspar shrugged and glanced back at James over his shoulder.

"Do we grant them entry?" he asked with a hint of amusement.

"They can come in," James said tiredly. It didn't make sense to turn them away, anyhow.

In an instant, Lyall slipped in, claimed Caspar's seat across from James, and dropped his head on the table. "Lookin' good," he said by way of greeting.

"Relatively," Hild added. She took the chair at the end, between the two. "Are we interrupting anything?"

"Yes, but it's fine," James answered honestly.

"Nothing too pressing," Caspar said, leaning on the edge of the table opposite to her. "I was just checking in, really."

Hild tilted her head. "You didn't stay over?"

Caspar looked unsure of how to respond.

"I was fine," James said. "I just needed to rest is all."

Hild didn't seem to find that reassuring. "Suppose I'll have to leave you with formal instuctions next time," she murmured as she crossed her arms on the table.

Lifting his head, Lyall drawled, "Settle down, he survived the night. No hovering required." To James, but still pointedly at Hild: "I imagine it was a more relaxed recovery, with no worried presence hanging over your shoulder the whole time."

"It... it was about as enjoyable as would be expected," James said weakly. "For a hangover."

"So, bearable," Lyall concluded.

"Yes," James agreed. "Like you said. I survived."

"And!" Lyall leaned on his elbows and flashed a grin, looking more attentive now. "Got your first taste of an Ashlund party. Small scale, compared to how they used to be. What'd you think?"

"It was a good time," James said, mustering up a tired smile. "I can't imagine what they'd have been thrice that size. I think I'd have gotten lost in the sea of people were it larger."

"T'would've been a tragedy," Lyall joked. "Thank goodness for the...small-scale-ness, then."

"Right," James said with a small laugh, though, again, it was forced.

"You've attended large-ish functions before, though, right?" Lyall asked. "Given your social standing at...sometime before ago."

James found his mouth getting dry again, but his glass was empty. He cleared this throat.

"Ah. Yes," he said. "On occasion I'd attend large, uh. Parties and the like. They were very... extravagant."

Lyall tilted his head interestedly. "Sounds like you were in higher esteemed company than I initially assumed." He nodded, adding more to himself, "That makes sense, though."

"You probably would've enjoyed those events more than I did," James said. "Though the parties were far more formal. So perhaps not."

"I would've liked formal," Lyall said defensively.

"He would've liked crashing the formalities," Hild corrected.

"So you would've liked drama," James added.

Lyall tsked. "No further comments."

It appeared that James had struck a chord he hadn't intended to.

He nodded slightly, falling to silence.

He hoped Lyall didn't interpret that as a passive comment on their conversation the night prior.

"So," Hild said suddenly, "plans for the day, gentlemen?"

Lyall set his head down on the table again with a groan. "Work later."

"Wrong answer," Hild said flatly.

"Couldn't you tell them you're sick?" James asked. "It's not too far from the truth."

"You should just call out sick," Hild firmly insisted. "You're in no state to think."

"Were you in another profession I might say you could skirt by," James said. "But I don't think you really want to skirt by when it comes to healthcare."

"No," Lyall said, sounding disgruntled, "I can do it, I'll just... Hydrate. A lot."

"Because water solves everything," James said flatly.

Lyall threw both hands skyward. "It can be a versatile solution!"

Caspar patted a hand to his shoulder and said quietly, "Just call out, or even go in a little later than normal."

"The whole practice won't fall apart if you miss a few hours," James added.

With a heavy sigh, Lyall just plonked his head back down on the table.

"I think he's finally surrendered," James said.

"Never did I think I'd see the day." Hild leaned over and practically yelled at her brother, "Thank gods!"

Lyall withered further.

"He was outnumbered," James said with a cringe. Lyall wasn't the only one with a hangover.

James wondered if Hild was annoyed at him too. If she was, it was warranted.

"I heartell that strength is often found in numbers," Caspar said with a sage nod and empathetic grimace.

"It's not stopped him before," Hild muttered.

Well, they didn't need to rub it in Lyall's face.

"Lyall," James said softly, tilting his head down to the side, though he wasn't able to meet Lyall's eyes. "Have you eaten anything yet?"

"Ah yes," Hild answered first, "please, use your 'strength in numbers' to get some food in him. I couldn't do that on my own either."

James blinked, and then looked over to Hild. He didn't know if he'd offended her or if she was just annoyed at her brother. Was it both?

Maybe she was upset that James had turned Caspar's help away last night. Or that he'd gotten drunk in the first place.

Maybe she was just tired after having to care for her brother.

He didn't know.

"Did he eat?" James asked.

Tilting his head up just enough to glare at his sister, Lyall grumbled, "I will admit, I refused out of pure spite since someone hasn't stopped pestering me since the literal crack of dawn."

Loudly clearing his throat, effectively cutting off Hild before she could respond, Caspar said, "Uh, James, you wouldn't happen to have anything on hand? Like, uh, more bread? Could help."

James nodded. Getting to his feet, he walked over to his cabinet and pulled out another small loaf, a plate, and an apple. He quietly poured a glass of water while he was at it, and he returned to the table to set them in front of Lyall.

"I hope it helps," James said quietly, returning to his seat. "Take it easy."

Lyall just shuddered dramatically at the sight of the food.

Rolling her eyes, Hild angled her chair more toward James and folded her arms. In a perfectly casual tone of voice, she said, "Hopefully you plan on taking it easy yourself."

"I do," James said with a weak smile. He wasn't sure if his smile was convincing. But he meant it that he was going to take it slow.

She nodded her acknowledgement with a frankly relieved look.

"Did you get any rest, Hild?" James asked.

"Some," she answered pleasantly and with a dismissive wave, "and I can get more rest whenever the need arises since the day ahead is quite unplanned." She jabbed a finger in Caspar's direction. "You, on the other hand, I can tell--"

Caspar raised both hands placatingly. "Whoa, hey, I'll just. Nap. Settle down."

"Caspar's grown," James said. "He can take care of himself."

"Yes," Hild agreed, "and as a concerned friend, I'm simply trying to ensure that he will."

"And I thank you for your concern," Caspar said. "S'good."

Nudging the plate of bread closer to himself, Lyall finally gave it an experimental nibble. "Don't oversleep, though." He waggled his eyebrows and said around a mouthful, "You've got your date with Mel today, right?"

"Technically a meet up to plan the actual date," Caspar corrected quietly.

"A date to plan a date," James offered.

With a nod, he conceded.

Lyall snorted. "You dork," he said before taking another big bite. "Just take her to dinner somewhere tonight. No need to overthink it."

"Maybe Mel has some ideas of her own," Hild suggested. "It could be nice to make sure that you're both on the same page, before you just go making decisions for the both of you."

"Your original plan sounds like the one you agreed on," James said. "Just go with that."

Caspar gestured to James. "I plan to, thank you."

Lyall just shrugged and sipped his water. Then loudly set down the cup with a grimace.

"I thought water was a versatile solution," Hild mumbled.

"Not today," Lyall muttered, glancing at the glass disdainfully.

James raised an eyebrow, but didn't want to berate Lyall. He'd drink the water eventually. He was a doctor. He knew better than to not.

He wondered what Lyall's motivations were for drinking. Was it only for fun? Was it to drink the stress of the last few months away? Lyall didn't seem to have a recurring issue with drinking in his history. At least, not that he was aware of. He'd assume Hild or Ulf would have showed more concern for their brother aside from the usual annoyance.

He noticed Lyall had finished the bread. He was slowly working on drinking water.

"Well," James said slowly. "If... you are going into work late. What are you going to do in the meantime?"

"I'll..." Lyall shrugged. "I don't know, walk. Read. Gods, I'm going to be bored."

James looked around the table before he let his eyes settle back on Lyall.

"I'd be fine if you stayed here a while," James offered.

Lyall blinked at him. "You would?"

James offered a small smile.

"Yes," he said.

"Well," Lyall said, looking exceptionally encouraged by the invitation, "I think I'll have to take you up on that. Wallowing in good company always beats wallowing alone at home."

"Agreed."

There used to be something appealing about a straightforward, uncomplicated life. Caspar thought it was simply because he was never an ambitious man. He only ever had a basic vision of a fulfilled life: A steady job to fill his days, contribute to society; talk of the weather or businesses, nothing ever too difficult to navigate; and a sturdy house of his own to return to afterward. Preferably off the shore of the ocean, and quiet, maybe with a gull or two.

It was a vision instilled in him from his father's own values and the life he carved out. Looking back, it was a decidedly lonely vision of existence. One, he realized only later, borne from the fear of having to grieve again.

And having lost so much of his own, Caspar came to terms with a lonely existence and didn't dare to hope for anything different either. Especially after Jack, the uncomplicated, empty life, while sad, was safe.

He could never have imagined that taking that ranch job would have ever led to friends, new and old, and finding a place to belong. Least of all in the heart of a secret city beneath the surface of the wilderness.

What once was an empty apartment over a year ago was filled with art he made of his loved ones, accompanied by Cy's and Lily's drawings of valiant steeds on quests and fire breathing dragons (respectively). Borrowed books were stacked high on the table in the kitchen; one sat open with notes from James on phonetics tucked between the pages. A green, striped hat and matching scarf hung on a coat rack by the door, both masterfully crafted gifts from Raj. Lyall's jacket hung forgotten in a recent hurry on the back of a chair-- it felt like a small assurance that he'd be back again very soon.

Maybe Caspar didn't have the steady tides of the ocean anymore, but neither was he resigned to sitting with just his thoughts for company in a set of empty walls. He had stories and music and laughter to fill his ears, and the warmth of those he held dear.

Worried questions reminded him of how people thought and cared about him, maybe more than he realized. Honest conversations about how midnights were still fraught with ghosts, and even heated arguments about something as small as furniture placement grounded his relationships. And there were plenty of dumb little jokes to make him laugh harder than he probably should (and to make other friends roll their eyes and sigh out of exasperation).

Gulls could never hope to measure up to the company he kept now.

And maybe he himself could no longer build like he used to. Even after his lovely partner Mel finally convinced him to have the shrapnel removed from his shoulder, he wasn't confident in his ability to work on the scale that he used to. Regardless, he was still near to his passion, just now helping direct others' with theirs. As a mentor, he supposed.

This evening, Caspar didn't even bother taking off his jacket and boots once returned from work. He swung his bag from his shoulder to the coat rack, and slid into the kitchen for a quick bite to eat before heading back out.

The Ashlunds and Rikks were having another get-together, complete with a meal and probably music as usual. And everything was likely all ready for when everyone got there. He just could always eat. Which he hadn't since lunch.

He did take care to brush off the wood shavings from his coat and pat out sawdust from his jeans. Needing nothing else, he lovingly tapped the corner where Lyall's girls liked to measure themselves, then closed the front door behind himself.

With just a hop and a skip past a few doors down the block, Ulf's place was already in view. The door was slightly ajar, which meant that party prep was already done, and guests were welcome to simply let themselves in.

When Caspar entered, Mel got up from her seat at the table and quickly came up to greet him with a small peck on the cheek. She hooked her arm into his.

"Glad you made it," she said.

He smiled adoringly at her. Then turned a slightly sheepish look to rest of the party. "Seems I'm the last to do so. Hope I didn't hold up any festivities."

"Nonsense!" Ulf said with a wave. "We'd hardly begun--"

Lilya poked her head in from the sitting room at that and threw her hands up in exasperation. "We've been waiting forever!"

"Try twenty minutes," Hild corrected with a faint, amused grin.

"That's forever when you're 6," James said beside her.

Her annoyance quickly forgotten, Lilya ran over and led Caspar (and thus Mel) along by his free hand to the table. Chatter started up again as they took their seats.

Lyall was quick to drag Caspar into the middle of a friendly debate with Hild. A verbal spar that the doctor seemed to be losing, so Caspar had to (jokingly, of course) give his support to the winning team.

With everyone now present, platters and serving bowls were passed around. Plates were filled, then gradually scraped clean again. Listening between the various overlapping discussions around him, Caspar gave input here and there, but was mostly content with listening and watching.

Hild at some point had left her seat in favor of leaning on the arm of James. James lightly leaned his shoulder to her side as he turned a laughing smile to one of Petrus's quick jokes.

Caspar felt himself smile with fondness. A year ago, the rift in the Rikk family was sizeable. There was a deep-rooted sorrow that had been left to fester for so long, it seemed unmendable during their journey away from King's Peak. With some more time and work, though, those wounds slowly but steadily were allowed to heal. They learned how to be around each other, and the family was that much more whole for it.

Larrel couldn't be more delighted for it. To not only have the reunion circumstances had denied her for years, but to also gain additional family in the Ashlunds. Something that the Rikk and Ashund siblings all liked to accredit to James's and Caspar's inabilities to hold steady jobs. Something the two good-naturedly conceded.

On the subject of work, Lyall was less consumed by it. Or really, by the idea of the security and distraction it provided. Distraction was only good for so many things. Bo and Robin were quite instrumental in gently nudging his focus back toward his family, for whom he worked so tirelessly in the first place.

All his efforts never went unappreciated by the girls. Though they were happy to try this new life and branch out, Cypress and Lilya always enjoyed most coming home to be with their father, Hild, Ulf, and all of their extended family (which definitely included the mages and Caspar). They were surrounded by love on all sides, and they only ever grew kinder for it.

Maybe all this reminiscing was better suited for after the party, Caspar thought, when Mel slipped her hand into his and quietly asked what was on his mind. He drew in a steadying breath as he decided how best to answer.

He eventually settled on, "Not much." Then added, "I'm just...happy."

Dinner came and went. While everyone moved to the sitting room, there was predictably a micro-explosion in the kitchen during clean up (Hild had done something that Lyall evidently found completely unbearable). Ulf ran point on mediation while the rest of the clan found some amusement in it.

While ruffled feathers were artfully smoothed, Caspar caught a meaningful look shared between James and Hild from their opposite ends of the apartment. He wasn't sure what to make of it at first. Hild vaguely promised her siblings some news for after dish washing, and James essentially herded his scattered family into a dense group in the living room. Then it clicked.

With an enlightened raise of his brows, Caspar peered over the coffee table from his spot on the floor with Lilya. Larrel and Petrus had gravitated toward James's end of the couch, both casting him intensely knowing looks. Caspar couldn't help his own excited smile either. Glancing around at all of them, then good-naturedly rolling his eyes, James patiently grinned and bore it as he waited for his partner.

Linking arms with both her brothers, Hild finally dragged them out of the kitchen. Lyall shouted indignantly when she shoved him into the nearest armchair, but accepted his fate with a very mature pout. Ulf was quick to step away before she could do the same with him, and stepped over Caspar and Lily with quiet apologies to sit by Therese.

"Before any further festivities," Hild began with a graceful sweep of her now-free arm, "James and I would like to take a moment to share something of great importance."

James was quick to get to his feet and joined Hild at her side. She slipped her hand into his, and allowed herself a full, dazzling smile as she said, "We have recently decided to officially wed!"

James was smiling at Hild, his smile just as big as hers and with clear adoration in his eyes.

Instantly, half of the room erupted with applause and all sorts of happiness. Larrel somewhere declared at the top of her lungs, "I knew it!", to which James shot her an amused smile with a raised brow. Excitement rendering him incoherent, Ulf jumped right back up to his feet and grabbed up the couple in a bone-crushing embrace. More outwardly reserved but not any less happy for them, Jane cheered, "That's wonderful!" Draped lackadaisically over the arms of the chair, Lyall only offered a long-suffering, "Finally!" before sincerely wishing them congratulations.

Rising to his feet, Caspar swore he heard as he passed, Robin mumble, "Saw that coming." Bo chuckled and gave Robin a hearty smack to the shoulder, which was received with mild confusion.

"Ah," Ulf declared, "a toast! To honor this long-awaited moment!"

While their good host set about to retrieving cups and drinks, Caspar side-stepped over and lightly nudged his dear friend with his elbow. "Congrats, James," he said softly (dipping his head so as to be heard over the chatter) and with immense warmth in his voice. "I couldn't be happier for you both."

James smiled in return.

"Thank you, Caspar," James said.

Meanwhile, behind them, Larrel had attacked Hild with a bear hug. With no time to prepare herself, Hild stumbled a bit, but smiled freely as she warmly reciprocated (with decidedly less force).

Caspar couldn't help but think of how Hild had grown since running into each other at Needle Point. She always had a caring heart, there was no question about that. But she always stayed guarded as a show of strength, to the point of cutting herself off from meaningful connections. It made him smile to see her finally embrace the very human part of her that wanted those connections, both in her own siblings and now in James's family.

Sometime into his thoughts, a cup had appeared in his hand before he even realized Ulf had returned. It was filled with orange juice. So was the glass in James's hands.

This was about a full year since going sober, for both of them. It was a year of laying down roots, where they had once thought the soil too rocky or full of thorns to grow anything. A year of finding somewhere to belong, balance between family and work, love where there once was loathing.

The room quieted as everyone raised their cups. To a new union, a new chapter in their lives.

To looking ahead, and finally being able to see a future before them.