Archive of Our Own

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Part I
 
Nico
 Havenburst looms into view at the top of the hill, and Nico can finally feel the tension in his shoulders loosen a fraction. The Keep has never been the paradigm of warm and welcoming, but after a long, cold journey north and back again, he’d genuinely throw his hands up and cheer if he had any extra energy left.And he’s not the only one. On his left, Luca lets out a low, relieved exhale, and on his other side, he can see Luke tilts his face towards the sky in his peripherals, and nod decisively.“Almost there,” he hums, like he knows something Nico doesn’t, and then the corner of his mouth quirks up. “Right on time.”There’s an enormous groan as the front gates crack open, a short sliver between the thick doors, just barely enough for a person to slip through. Nico squints into the distance, a question on the tip of his tongue, trying to see who is exiting the Keep.A figure appears over the hill; someone is sprinting down the snowy path towards them. For a moment Nico can’t recognize her, because he so rarely ever sees Nina with her hair down. But suddenly, he’s slammed with the memory of his big sister from a time past, a vision of the long soft waves of her hair, always hugging and carrying around him when he was little until he grew taller and stronger and too big for her to lift up.Still, Nico reckons if there’s any time that’s ever going to happen again, it’s going to be now.Distantly, he hears someone shouting Luke! but his attention is drawn by Luca grabbing his wrist, grip so tight it almost hurts, and then the two of them are sprinting the rest of the way up the path too.“Nina,” Luca chokes out, and their sister is slamming headlong into them before Luca could say another word. They sprawl into the snow; Nico lands on his back, all the air whooshing out of him, and then Nina is squeezing the absolute life out of them, her voice shaky and wrecked as she delivers bone-cracking hugs.“You’re alive,” she sobs, muffled faintly by the press of her face in the front of Luca’s jacket. Luca, with tears brimming in his eyes, throws his arms around them both and bundles them to his chest. “Gods above still listening, you’re alive.” “Can’t get rid of me so easily,” Luca manages, and Nina thumps him hard in the shoulder. “Oof, fucking ow, Neens.”“A shitty joke,” she scolds, and then she laughs—bright and clear as a bell, a sound Nico has so dearly, miserably missed—and hugs them again. “Thank the gods. You’re home. You’re both home.”“I’ll be staying a while,” Luca agrees, and Nico’s heart swells inside his chest. “A long while, hopefully.”“Try to leave and just see what happens,” Nina threatens. “I’ve been through enough heartbreak to last two lifetimes already.”“No more,” Nico whispers, hiding his face between his siblings. For a moment, they’re children again, tuckered out on the blankets and cushions before the bonfire on a summer’s night, even after insisting they could stay up long enough to see the stars. Nico, the youngest and smallest and most easily chilled, had always slept between his siblings; two plump little fists clenched in the sleeves of Nina and Luca’s sleep shirts, reluctant to let either of them go even in his sleep.They won’t ever go back to what once was, but here, like this, knowing both Luca and Nina are safe and sound, is enough for him.“No more,” Nina agrees quietly, carding her fingers through his hair.“No more,” Luca echoes, and tucks the two of them close to him.They stay like that a little longer, just relishing in the fact that they’re all alive, until the snow starts to chill them through their coats and Nico’s worn-down muscles start to protest. Luca pats his hand on Nico’s back, Nina finally releases her firm hug, and they slowly push themselves back to their feet.Nico’s chest is thrumming with anticipation, like he’s hovering on a cliff-edge about to dive into the sea below. He brushes the snow from his cloak, straightens Solaris at his waist, and glances around.“Where are—?”Nina steps aside wordlessly, and Nico inhales.A little ways away, the gods have gathered in a huddle, reunited at long last.But the image is almost comical. Quinn and Jack are standing around Luke—hovering, really—both of them staring open-mouthed in unabashed shock up at him. Nico can relate.Gone is the narrow, lanky figure they’d once known, the whip-thin shape that had always been the youngest god-brother trailing after Quinn and Jack. Luke used to be roughly Jack’s height, the two of them standing more-eye-to-eye once they’d outgrown Quinn, but now he’s tall. He’s tall, he’s broad, and he looms over both his brothers like the sky-scraping ranges of the Biel mountains. His gaze reached over Luca’s head, astounding them when Luke had first pushed himself to his feet in the forest.The transformation had been terrifying. To listen to Luke scream like a wounded animal and fold in on himself while they scrambled around him, frantic and helpless, had been a nightmare in itself. It reminded Nico of a fawn he’d stumbled across in his youth, leg stuck in a poacher’s trap, eyes bulging with fear and pain as it tried to wrench itself free. The frighteningly human-like cries had stuck with him then and surfaced that day, overlapped by the shockingly animalistic shrieks Luke was making. But then Luke’s whole body had twisted like a taut rope, almost liquified, and rippled.  It felt like watching the pale light of a full moon drift through the window and across the ground as the night passed on. He became a reflection across a burbling brook, a glimpse of refracted light through a gap in the trees—something inhuman and incomprehensible. Then, there had been the awful, gut-turning sound of bones crunching and rearranging, a truly nauseating combination of muscles and tendons snapping and reforming, but it was over nearly as quickly as it’d started.And when Luke had straightened and stood up on his own, faintly wrong-footed like a newborn deer taking its first steps, before he’d blinked down at the two of them.His hair looked brighter. There were two slivers of scars against his temple, not unlike stag antlers. But when Luke had opened his mouth, cracking his jaw with a brief jerk, Nico had spotted a flash of fang nestled in his gums.A juxtaposition of prey and predator.He and Luca had time to take in this new form, but for his brothers, the time was the present, and even though Luke had warned them that Quinn and Jack would’ve experienced the same kind of rebirth, neither of them seemed ready for the fact that Luke would be taller than the two of them.“What did you eat?” Jack is currently sputtering, looking Luke up and down.“More like who did you eat,” Quinn adds, stunned, and he reaches out, fingertips brushing over Luke’s arms, like he’s afraid Luke is an illusion that will shatter. “Lukey—”Luke swings his arms around Jack and Quinn and sweeps them into crushing hugs.“Shut up,” he grits out, harsh, voice wobbling with emotion. Quinn and Jack’s hands immediately reach up and grasp the cloak of furs on his back, equally reluctant to let go. “I missed you two. I missed you two so damn much.” Nico could empathize. For all that he’s gone through, the brothers had lost so much. Quinn had definitively died. Jack’s magic had nearly depleted into nothing. And Luke had been missing for so, so long.Sometimes, it’s easy to forget they’re vulnerable too, when Nico had spent his entire life gazing in awe upon three undeniably powerful gods. The aftermath of Altherfield had been a terrifying, world-changing realization of that.But—they’re tough, stubborn beings, something Nico had never once doubted, and they’d come back. Luke had surprised his brothers with his transformation, but the others—they’d changed too.There had been an immediate flood of relief Nico had felt seeing Quinn alive, and in one whole piece. A memory flares deep in the recess of his mind; it’s a fractured recollection of Jack on his knees before the remains of his brother’s dais, slumped over in wordless grief, hand resting limply amongst the pieces of polished stone, carefully-collected shells and sea glass scattered across the ground, everything destroyed beyond recognition.Quinn is here, though, and Nico can’t help but swell with pride at Jack’s resounding success. Their long journey to revive his older brother, plagued by harsh conditions and harsher enemies, was finally complete. And now that he’s back, Quinn looks older, gaze warier (not that he was never the worrier) but there’s a spark behind them, a fission of deep-burning embers that makes his whole expression flicker like a forge-fire. It’s not nearly enough to distract upon the very poignant streak of white that now runs through his hair at his forehead and melds away into the depths of his wavy hair, dignified in an almost frightful kind of way.And Jack—Jack is glowing. It’s a little hard to tell, at first, against the white backdrop of the snowy landscape, but Nico blinks twice and the faint, shimmering layer around his husband’s figure doesn’t disappear. It’s woven into the very strands of his hair, longer than Nico remembers, hovers over the backs of his hands and seems to light up the layers he’s wearing, but there’s also something indescribably cold about it. Cold, difficult to look directly at, and as intimidating as a vast tundra of ice. While Quinn burns silently, like an active volcano hidden in the trenches beneath the sea, Jack’s as still and immovable as a glacier cresting over the land.There’s an emotion swelling inside his chest, intense, and it takes Nico a moment to realize it’s awe. Pure, unfiltered, overwhelming awe; for the first time since he’s met the brothers, he’s slammed with the instinctual understanding that these are gods. Divine, powerful, celestial and untouchable—all of a sudden, Nico’s deeply aware of how beaten down and exhausted he, his siblings, and the other humans surrounding Havenburst are. Standing before the gods, seeing everyone side-by-side, it’s an indisputable fact.Something between them all has shifted, and suddenly, a stab of uncertainty rocks through Nico, like a gut punch he wasn’t expecting. It’s as if he’s seeing the chasm between him and Jack for the first time ever.Silver eyes, as sharp as the reflection of a full moon on a cloudless night, cuts over the slope of Luke’s shoulder and meets Nico’s head on.Nico swallows, all the hairs rising in the back of his neck unbidden, and stumbles a half-step forward.Jack blinks, and the silver flashes away into a more dusky blue—a blue Nico has been aching and aching to see again.Jack tilts his head and whispers something to Luke, and Luke releases him, letting Jack step around and down the sloping path towards Nico.Nina’s hand comes up and gives him a firm little push between the shoulder blades. “What are you waiting for?” she asks, and Nico wordlessly picks up the pace to close the distance between them.He sees Jack break out into a run, feels his own boots kicking up snow as he races forward, and as though he were back in the dreamscape, he reaches out for Jack the same time Jack extends his arms towards him. Except, this is real now. This isn’t a dream anymore.And there, they fall into each other’s orbit seamlessly, collecting each other hungrily, desperately. A wounded noise escapes Nico as his fingers close around the warm, living body of a newly-reborn god. His god. His Jack.Jack’s arms swing up around his shoulders, his fingers tangling into Nico’s long hair, and Nico slips one arm around his waist and cups the palm of his hand protectively around the base of Jack’s neck. He can hear the steady thump-thump of Jack’s pulse, smell the fresh winter air around him, and feel—He feels something, radiating off Jack in waves. He doesn’t quite know what yet, but it’s otherworldly, ethereal, and it makes a shiver run up his spine, like he’s stepping out into the empty space on a frozen mountaintop and gazing out over the endless horizon.But underneath all that, the grandeur and vastness and magnificence, it’s still Jack.“Moonlight,” he whispers, fingers trembling as he squeezes Jack close.Jack chokes out a soft laugh, and he turns his face so he could nudge his nose against Nico’s stubbled cheek, his warm breath fanning across his face.“My King,” he replies, and Nico draws back just enough to gaze longingly into the rich blue-silver of Jack’s eyes.“Husband,” Nico says, and Jack nods, a dazzling smile illuminating his handsome features.“Husband,” he answers, and then they’re kissing, meeting each other halfway in a well-practiced collision of everything. Jack’s lips are so soft, so warm. His hands slide through Nico’s hair and rest at the sides of his neck, and he makes the quietest little sigh against Nico’s lips—full of hope, full of relief, full of desire. And Nico can’t stop himself from tightening his hold more securely around Jack’s waist and spinning him around, dipping Jack dramatically like they’re newlyweds, until he’s almost horizontal to the snowy ground.Jack makes an alarmed little noise into the kiss, fingers scrambling to tighten in the scruff of Nico’s collar. Nico laughs, breathless, laying peck after peck against Jack’s mouth until his husband makes an indignant sound and bites him, just a hint of sass, and Nico lays off in favour of a warmer, softer glide of their mouths against one another’s. He’s been waiting for so long. He’s literally only been dreaming of this for weeks and weeks now.Distantly, he can hear the noise from the ramparts, the spirited clash of metal on metal and the triumphant hollers of soldiers and guards. Everyone, who, until this moment, had little to celebrate during the long, cold nights where their leaders, gods and King lay scattered across the Continent.
Hischier! Hischier! Hischier!
Nico draws back just a scant inch from Jack, unwilling to leave even a sliver of space between them. Jack’s fingers trail down his face, feather-light over the curve of his cheek and the line of his jaw, content to float in the security and clutch of Nico’s arms.“Welcome home, Nico,” he whispers, and Nico’s heart sings.   The days are dark, but that doesn’t mean they can’t celebrate.It feels like there are more people in Havenburst then there have ever been—soldiers, guards and staff alike hustle and bustle in the corridors and across the open space, all busy with their day-to-day tasks. There’s a liveliness behind the walls and levity in the air that Nico had deeply missed as well, finally thawing away at the loneliness and frost that had sunk into his bones from his journey up north.And to say that the people are happy with their King’s arrival would be an understatement, it seems. Ecstatic may be the better word for it, given the robust cheers and noise that had greeted Nico the moment he set foot in Havenburst, following him all the way through the courtyard and up to his quarters with Jack. It’s certainly a much better welcome than the one he’d experienced a few weeks before.Preparations start in a flurry, the kitchens roar to life, and within the hour the great hall is teeming with Havenburst’s residents and filled to the brim with mountains of mouth watering dishes courtesy of the tireless cooks: juicy plucked pheasants, fire-roasted chicken, sputtering spit-roasted hogs and thick cuts of herb-rubbed meats. There are platters of winter root vegetables, cauldrons bubbling with hearty stews, and stern loaves of bread with aged cheeses and soft butters. Drinks flowed from barrels and tankards and jugs into cups, glasses and steins; ales and wines and hearty, frothy beer slosh with every excited shout and cheer.And there’s certainly cheer in the air tonight.For once, Nico is devoid of his armour and leathers, and it almost feels strange to meander around the hall in a pair of plain trousers, a mere shirt and simple wool overcoat. He’s not without his hidden weapons, but Solaris is in the armoury receiving a long-needed sharpening and treatment, so the comforting weight he normally has at his hip is oddly absent. He can’t help but flinch at any sound that leans a little too close to sudden and sharp—the bang of a door opening, the thump of a chair rocking against the floor. There’s a half of him that can’t quite seem to put down the vigilance, or remove the insidious little voice that tries to whisper you remember how quickly they stormed your kingdom. But Jack’s right there by his side, his arm tucked into the crook of Nico’s elbow, a warm line of comfort and protection every time he twitches in the direction of a noise. He gets a soothing pat on the arm, or a little bump of Jack’s forehead against his shoulder, and a gentle nudge towards the very innocent action that rattled him. Nico tries to focus on his husband, settling his quaking heart with the reassurance of Jack at his side. Jack, who’s equally dressed down as him, but looking stunning nonetheless. His simple attire is accentuated by a rather gorgeous blue-dyed jacket, hanging softly over his shoulders and down his back. It brings out the silver-brightness of his eyes, and the shine of his smile as he genially greets soldiers and guards alike, amicably speaking with anyone who comes up to them. He never strays from Nico’s side though, and Nico is content to make his rounds knowing that they’re safe together.People keep handing him food and drink, insistent that he eat, insistent that he replenish himself. But it’s been long, long months on the road with hardly anything but dried jerky and meager swallows from his perpetually empty flask. Nico’s almost afraid his stomach would revolt at such rich, wholesome meals, unable to handle the weight of it all.Yet, like he’s already reading Nico’s mind, Jack seamlessly reaches over every time, subtly divesting Nico of the food he’s hesitant to turn away and putting back the drinks he can’t seem to finish. He sends his husband grateful looks as often as he can, and Jack’s eyes twinkle back in response, mischievous but always with Nico in his sights.They round the hall twice more before they’re stopped by a jovial Jonas, who swoops in with a ruffle to a squawking Jack’s hair and an animated slap to Nico’s shoulder.“There you guys are,” their friend grins, in high spirits. “Everyone’s been asking for a speech from the King. Won’t you indulge them, your Majesty?”“Piss right off,” Nico retorts, blushing at the your Majesty nonsense—something his siblings and friends only use to tease him.“Come on, Neeks,” Timo chimes in, dodging over and nearly spilling ale onto them. Jack wrinkles his nose and pushes Timo’s mug away from them, muttering something inexplicable about showing him a real graveyard curse that has Timo quickly moving his hand. “Just a quick one. Everyone’s so fucking excited you and Jack are back. Give them something to cheer for!”“Guys,” Nico flusters, but everyone who hadn’t even bothered pretending they weren’t listening in has already begun a thumping, excited chant, pounding their feet and slamming their drinks down on the table tops. Speech! Speech! Speech! Jack laughs and leans over, brushing a kiss against Nico’s cheek. “Give the people what they want, dearest.”Nico levels a flat look at him. “Not helping.”“I never said I was?” Jack replies, oh-so sweet, and pushes Nico up onto one of the benches with a surprising amount of force. Jonas manages to thrust a half-filled stein into his hand, and an expectant hush falls over the eager crowd.It’s been a long time since he’d had an audience of his subjects. The mannerisms and the poise of a King come to him as easily as breathing, but somewhere deep inside his chest, Nico’s heart aches as he looks out at the small crowd in the room, thinking about every single person who never made it out of his burning Kingdom all those months ago.The fire crackles in the hearth. He clears his throat, and straightens his shoulders.“My people.” His voice comes out almost soft at first, a haunting note for a singular speaker in such a grand room. Nico tightens his grip on his glass. “My friends. It’s been a long journey, and it’s taken far too long, but I return to stand before you here again. Not as a King, or a Captain, but as Nico, son of Rino, youngest-born to the House of Hischier. A man, like any one of you. A man who still grieves, but also a man who still burns with the hope of rebuilding his home. I want you to know that I have not stopped fighting for this hope. Neither has my husband, nor his brothers. Though the future looks bleak, I am telling you now that I cannot give up hope. Not when all of you are still here. Not when I can still fight for every single person in this room and more.”He takes a breath. Everyone is still, gazing expectantly up at him.“We’ve lost so many. We’ve lost so much. But that doesn’t change the fact that Hischerians are strong. You’re hardy. Through the brutality of our enemies, you’ve still protected each other, and your honour. You have come so unbelievably far, and you have all survived.”“Hear, hear!” Someone calls, and a storm of applause echoes through the hall. Nico smiles.“You’ve all fought a hell of a battle. Tonight, I raise my glass to the fallen. But tonight, I also drink to you, the fighters. All survivors. My people!”“Our King!” Timo shouts in response, and the roar of the room follows without hesitation. Fists bang on the table, rattling foodstuffs and dishes, toppling empty cups and knocking silverware to the ground. Bottoms of mugs tip towards the ceiling, dark liquid spilling out from the sides, and return to the tabletops soundly drained.Nico tips his head back and drinks his ale down, cool and heady, chasing gulp after gulp until his stein is empty and he’s raising it once in acknowledgement to the crowd. The bellow of his name shakes the ground and rattles the rafters.“Hischier! Hischier! Hischier!”Something inside his chest settles minutely. They still believe in him. They still believe he will bring them home.He turns and immediately searches for Jack, who’s cradling his own empty glass in hand, gazing adoringly up at Nico. There’s so much love and acceptance in his eyes that Nico feels utterly unworthy of.Jack holds out his hand, and Nico takes it as he steps off the bench, setting the stein down on the table. He exhales shakily, blinking the sudden surge of wetness from his eyes.“You’re incredible,” Jack tells him immediately, brushing a loose strand of hair from his eyes. “I could feel your hope and honesty and heart through that speech. My love, you truly are the people’s King.”Nico swallows, throat tight, and merely ducks his head and embraces Jack, basking in the comfort and warmth of his husband’s arm around him.In the midst of the commotion, another chant has started, steadily gaining followers. Nico barely has time to register the call for music! before a flute kicks off a jaunty little tune, upbeat and bright, as refreshing as spring air that has yet to grace Havenbursts’ frost-covered walls. The metallic rattle of a tambourine follows, picking up the tune and carrying it along before a melodic string instrument and low drum round it off with an upbeat folk dance beat.People scramble off their seats, shoving benches and tables aside to make room down the length of the hall. Shadows flit along with the throng of people weaving their way around each other, infectious laughter and excited chatter filling the air. Timo’s the first to welcome Nina across the stone floor to uproarious cheers and hollers, and then Luca is dragging Jonas after them with an exaggerated tug of his old friend’s arm. They’re instantly lost to the thrum of dance partners that follow suit, joining in and stepping and twisting along to the beat of the music.Nico takes in his sister’s worry-free smile and Timo’s perfect lead, Luca’s unrestrained laughter as he nearly flings Jonas into a cask of wine, and commits every last second of this scene to his memory.“Nico.”“Hm?” Nico asks, half-distracted, and turns to see Jack waggling his eyebrows at him.“Let’s dance.”“Wait, what? No—” Nico starts, but Jack’s already pulling him straight into the crowd, leaving Nico to yelp and scramble after his husband. Jack is certainly the last person he’d imagine would dance in a group of strangers, but something must be in the wine tonight, or the buzzing atmosphere, because his husband is suddenly there. He’s got his hand on Nico’s waist and the other on his shoulder, and Nico instinctively matches him, stumbling only a little before he catches on with the beat. Who knew all those dance lessons as a child would actually be useful?“There you are,” Jack laughs. “Not so bad, is it?”“You hated dancing back then,” Nico can’t help but pout, squeezing Jack’s waist fondly. Jack pretends to roll his eyes.“I hated dancing in front of a bunch of stuffy, archaic chancellors and officials, all of whom would eye me like a hawk to see if I made any mistakes. But this is a celebration, and these are your people. I love them like my own, Neeks. I’m happy dancing together like this.”Nico swears his heart might be in his throat now. Leaning in, he nuzzles against Jack’s cheek. “Thank you, beloved.”Jack just tilts his head to catch Nico’s mouth with his own. “Of course, handsome.”The music and the dance eventually sends them spinning across the hall with multiple partners, leaving Nico linking arms with soldiers as well as serving maids, spinning his sister around with extra flair before tugging a much put-upon Quinn into a quick step pattern. Nico has a feeling the thousand-yard expression has less to do with him and more of the fact that Luke is currently roaring with laughter at his older brother from his perch on one of the tables, swinging a beer in hand alongside a dark-haired, amused-looking man in a rearguard uniform.“Alright,” Quinn finally huffs, shooting Nico an exasperated look when he catches sight of something over his shoulder. “Off you go.”And he pushes Nico away, sending him staggering back into strong, familiar arms.“Hello,” Jack murmurs into his ear, and Nico turns and draws his husband close without hesitation.The music picks up the pace. Hands raise into the air and clap along, echoing the beat down the great hall. Jack is glowing again, quite literally, a brilliant sheen of silver-white emitting from him as they spiral across the stone, and Nico has gone breathless with the beauty and divinity of his husband. Something inside his chest crows happily, delightedly. He’s mine. He loves me, just as I love him. Bodies jostle into them. The crescendo of the fiddle climbs to an almost impossibly high peak. He’s heaving for breath like he’s just sprinted down the length of the Keep, and the crowd is thrumming with energy and excitement. He can’t take his eyes off the way Jack’s gaze shines like moonlight, never letting Nico out of his sight as they spin through the dancers.The musicians round off the song with a high-adrenaline, triumphant finish, and they halt at the end of the hall.And Nico places both hands on Jack’s face.Leans in.And kisses his husband hard as he walks them both out of the great hall, through the looming archway, and down the hall towards their quarters.  The blazing fire in the hearth has kept their room toasty warm when Nico backs Jack inside, still liplocked, mindlessly kicking the door shut behind him as they go.They nearly run into the table on the other side of the room in their haste, and Jack groans, nipping at Nico’s mouth until he’s forced to draw back with a groan.“Love,” he pants, wounded, and Jack makes a low noise in his throat as he starts to shed his clothes with single-minded intent.“Off,” Jack pants, tugging at Nico’s overcoat and the belt at his trousers. “Off, off, I need to see you—all of you—right now.”“As you wish,” Nico laughs, breathless, and hurries to obey.Their outerwear falls into little piles as they strip hurriedly, progress made tricky by Nico’s inability to not touch Jack, and Jack’s equal helplessness to keep his hands away from Nico.A log cracks and pops in the fireplace, and an idea sparks in Nico’s mind. Eyeing the thick, plush fur rug laid out over the stone, he nudges Jack towards it with a pointed tilt of his head.“Here?” Jack asks, raising an eyebrow. Nico hurries over to the bed, reaches across the mattress, and drags all the blankets, stuffed cushions and feather-soft pillows onto the ground. It’s less than he would’ve liked, but Jack immediately grins, considering the makeshift fort before him as he languidly tugs the drawstrings loose at his pants. “Cozy, Nico.”Nico rolls his eyes and sprawls out against the cushions, legs spread apart, and watches the obvious bob of Jack’s throat in the shadows cast by the firelight.“Come here,” he commands, soft, and Jack steps onto the rug and drops to his knees in the space between Nico’s legs.He looks so fucking good. Strong, healthy, and whole, for the most part. Some of the thinner, older scars he’d gained over the years have essentially vanished, but the hurt pucker of the arrow wound in his chest remains a stark reminder of the time Nico nearly lost him.Slowly, he reaches out, and strokes over the wound.Jack places a hand on his knee and skims his palm downward, leaving a blazing line of heat against Nico’s thigh.“I’m alright, Nico,” he says quietly, eyes flashing silver. “I’m alright.”Nico takes a long, shuddering breath. “I know,” he replies. “I just had to make sure.”Jack lifts his other hand and presses it over Nico’s palm. Then, slowly, deliberately, he starts to move Nico’s hand up from the scar, tracing over the long line of his collarbone, fingertips brushing teasingly past the unmarked column of his throat, and then down, down, down down.Right down the center of his sternum, between the full muscle of his pecs, and the taut line of his abdomen before coming to a rest at his lower stomach. Nico relaxes his hand, lets his palm splay open on the skin there, fingers stroking over the jut of his hip bone. He watches in fascination as Jack shivers and presses against the back of Nico’s hand, holding him there.“What do you want, my love?” Nico asks, scraping his fingernail against the sensitive crease where leg meets joint. “Whatever you wish for, I’ll make it happen.”“Promises,” Jack chuckles, breathy, and he slips the hand on Nico’s thigh low and takes hold of his already very interested cock. “You’ve made your salutes this evening. But I think it’s my turn to drink now.”“Fuck,” Nico groans, succint, as Jack slides back on the furs and takes the head of Nico’s cock into his mouth.If Nico had thought that the crackling fire beside them was hot, it’s nothing compared to the silky velvet heat of Jack’s mouth, his tongue. That incredible tongue, lapping delicately against him before working its way along the shaft, teasing a vein, and flattening against the head. The long strands of his hair hang loose around his face, and Nico’s hand trembles as he collects a handful and holds it out of Jack’s way, relishing in the soft moan that Jack makes when he accidentally gives a tug. The sensations make his leg muscles jump, taut underneath his husband’s hands, fighting the reflex to squeeze them shut.The dreamscape is nothing compared to this. There, Nico almost feels as though he’s floating through time and space, cocooned by the gentle edges of Jack’s magic, his whole world narrowed down to the two of them in their personal cut of existence alone.In this reality, everything is chaotic, sharp, and dazzlingly in focus. There’s the distant howl of winter wind forcing its way between the window panes, the faint echoes of the ongoing celebrations in other parts of the Keep, and the overwhelming feel of heat from the fireside and from Jack’s form laid out between his legs.Jack chooses that exact moment to pull off with a terribly suggestive sound, all slick and wet, and he smirks winningly up at Nico as he kisses the tip of his cock.“Are you just going to sit there and watch, handsome?” He asks, tongue flicking against the slit. Nico’s hip twitches upwards, and he glowers half-heartedly at his husband. “Is this not enough?”“You know damn well it’s more than enough—”“Then show me,” Jack whispers, and he reaches up and squeezes Nico’s wrist, the hand that’s gripping his hair. “Show me, Nico, please?”Gods help him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Nico hedges, and Jack gives him a flat look.“Nico. You’d never. It’s been so long since I’ve felt you. Are you really going to make me wait?”All the air leaves his lungs in a long, shaky exhale. Liquid heat slips along his spine to pool low in his belly, aided by the visage of Jack languidly making out with his cock. It’s such a sight, degenerate and blasphemous and breathtaking all at once, and he wants nothing more than to make everything filthier.Jack’s eyes crinkle knowingly at him as Nico cautiously slides his other hand into Jack’s hair, his palm cradling his face. Then he puts his mouth back on Nico, and Nico settles back against the cushions, braces himself on the floor, and fucks up into Jack’s mouth.He can see the exact moment his cock slams into the back of Jack’s throat and Jack forces himself to relax against the intrusion, to fight against the reflexive flinch at the sensation. His expression skips through a myriad of images before he schools himself and smooths his hands up to wrap his fingers around Nico’s waist.
More.
They’ve done this before, but it truly has been so long, and it takes Nico a moment to let his mind catch up to the simmering fission of desire burning inside his chest. He finds a rhythm, a steady one that builds into a relentless roll of his hips, and then it’s so easy to just fuck into the slick inside of Jack’s mouth, listening to him moan and pant and choke softly on it. Nico closes his eyes and relaxes into it, tightening his hold on Jack’s hair, and then, when he feels like they’ve both warmed up to each other, sinks deep into Jack’s throat and holds him there.Jack squirms, fingernails digging into his sides, and Nico deliriously hopes he leaves crescent indents that never go away.He tips his gaze down and finds Jack already looking back at him, eyes damp with crystalline tears, mouth stretched obscenely around him. Nico can literally feel his cock twitch in Jack’s throat.Jack’s lashes flutter. Nico pulls out, just enough to listen to Jack inhale sharply, and then pushes right back in.He lets his palm drift, brushing against the slightest bulge in Jack’s neck, and feels Jack do a full body shiver against him.“Look at you,” Nico breathes, awed. “Baby, you look—I don’t think you know how beautiful you look right now, mouth all full, on your knees for me. Do you think I’ll get struck by lightning debasing a god like this?”Jack squeezes his eyes shut. Nico could almost imagine the sounds he’d be making right now, if he didn’t have Nico’s cock fucking in and out of his mouth so thoroughly.“I don’t care if it happens though,” Nico continues, easing back, then tipping forward again. His mind is split into two halves right now—one driven by desire, the other nearly falling over itself to let Jack know just how much Nico adores him. “I don’t care if I’ll burn before the high heavens, if I’ll sink to the bottom of the ocean and drown; I’ll face that and more as long as I can have you like this.”He pauses to let Jack adjust, then cups his hand at the base of Jack’s skull and pushes, pushes until Jack’s nose is pressed against his hip, his throat is a hot spasming line encompassing him, and Jack’s whole body is shaking across his legs.“You’ll keep me, won’t you?” Nico pleads, and Jack chokes lightly. “If they chain me up and take me away and put me on trial, you’ll still say I’m yours, right?”Jack’s thumbnail presses into the soft side of his belly, sharp, and Nico immediately releases him, letting Jack pull off and sit back on his haunches and take huge, gulping breaths. His mouth is shiny with spit, lips plump from the relentless face-fuck. Nico wraps his arms around Jack’s waist and hugs him close.“Are you alright?” he asks, rubbing Jack’s waist soothingly. “Does anything hurt? Is anything wrong? Love?”“Shut up,” Jack rasps, and he seizes Nico’s face to drag him up for a kiss. It’s not the homecoming kiss they shared at the doorsteps of Havenburst, nor the passionate one Nico laid upon him as they made their subtle-not-so-subtle escape from the great hall. This is harsh, biting, filled with needy moans and shuddering exhales and a frantic mesh of their tongues together. This is Jack demanding everything he wants from Nico, and Nico pouring every last drop of himself out for his god to take.“You’re so much. You’re too much. As if I would ever let anyone take you away from me,” Jack growls, backing off and tangling his fingers into Nico’s braids so he could tilt his face this way and that. “There is nothing worthy on this plane that will remain standing if they ever laid a finger on you. You’re my King. You’re my husband.”“I am,” Nico pants, scratching his nails down Jack’s back, and delights in the way Jack arches up into him. “If you asked me to kneel before you every day I would do it without a whisper of complaint.”“Your loyalty is a gift,” Jack replies, breathless, pressing his own hard-on against Nico’s front. “And your love a blessing I cannot hope to match. And you know that I’m yours for the rest of this life, and every lifetime that follows after this?” “Yes,” Nico pleads, resting his cheek against Jack’s chest, listening to the steady pounding of his heart. “Beloved—please—”“I know,” Jack says, and drops a kiss onto Nico’s head. His voice is rough like this, fucked-out and warmed with desire. “How do you want me, Nico?”“I want to open you up. I want to take you apart and watch you come for me. I want to make you feel so good, please?”“I’d be a fool to say no,” Jack grins, starting to shuffle back, but his expression blanks with confusion when Nico tightens his arms around him and refuses to let go. “Neeks?”“I want to open you up,” Nico repeats, punctuating each word with pointed intent, and sees the minute understanding crashes headlong into Jack. He leaves no room for doubt when he tips his center of gravity back and falls onto the pile of cushions scattered on the rug, arms still wrapped around Jack, dragging him right along until he’s seated astride Nico’s upper chest.“Oh,” Jack gasps, faintly.“Let me?” Nico asks, and Jack nods, frantically now, and lets Nico take a hefty hold of his ass, haul him closer, and arrange him so that Jack’s sitting on his face.He feels like he really is sinking underwater. Encompassed on all sides by the most beautiful being he’s ever known (and will ever know, his mind prompts), Nico is content to slip beneath the waves and lose himself to the tug of the tide. Holding Jack’s lower half securely over top, he tips his chin and licks up right into him.Jack groans immediately, and shivers. And Nico is filled with the instant need to pull that sound from his husband again and again.He doesn’t waste any time; he’s relentless, dragging the thick of his tongue against Jack, followed by light, teasing flicks, then turning all that around and mouthing messily into his husband until Jack’s legs are shaking violently on either side of his head. Nico loses himself in the way Jack nearly sobs a garbled mess of sounds that’s a mixture of Nico’s name and senseless begging. He’s rocking his hips down onto Nico’s tongue, accompanied by the occasional twitch and jerk that makes it feel like he’s trying to writhe away from Nico’s unwavering attempts to eat him out, but it’s half-hearted at best—Nico’s arm is tight around him, and Jack’s got a death grip in his hair.“Baby,” Jack gasps, then chokes out a whine when Nico plunges his tongue in and then anchors Jack down, encouraging him to grind against his face. Blood rushes through his ears, washing out the rest of the world as Jack fucks himself down onto his tongue. All he can hear is Jack, all he can see and feel and taste is Jack, and after all that’s happened, Nico will never take these moments for granted ever again.He eats Jack out like a man starved, like his husband is a feast that rivals their banquet dinner tonight. Saliva makes his lips slick, and soaks into Jack’s ass and thighs. He’s greedy with it all, holding handfuls of Jack’s ass against him and kneading, unwilling to let him shift even a scant millimeter away even as Jack starts to whimper from the near-overstimulation. “Nico,” Jack eventually begs, and when Nico looks up Jack is crying openly now, tears streaking down his cheeks, bottom lip bitten red. “Can you—can you please just fuck me already? I needed you inside me hours ago, fuck.” Oh.“Oh,” Nico croaks, and something inside him curls in satisfaction when Jack’s cheeks go scarlet at the rasped-out sound of his voice. Gently, he eases Jack off him, waits for him to regain his bearings, and then guides him onto his hands and knees on the softest parts of the cushions and furs. And because he’s a lover at heart, Nico lays a series of kisses across his shoulder blades and back too, whispering an endless stream of adoration that Jack so readily deserves.He trembles as Nico mouths over the skin at the top of his spine, then lowers himself on his elbows, arching his back and lifting his ass easily.Nico drapes himself seamlessly over Jack, squeezes his side gently, then lines himself up. Pushes in, inch by tantalizing inch, and Jack groans his name quietly into the crook of his arm as he braces against the steady motion in response.“Alright?” Nico asks, sinking another notch in, and gets a shaky more in response, along with a cautious attempt to shift back towards Nico.He takes it back, his thoughts on their dreamscape escapades. It’s nothing, nothing compared to Jack before him in real life.Nico splays his palms out over Jack’s sides to hold him steady and thrusts the rest of the way in.“Fuck, Nico, fuck,” Jack cries out, white-knuckling a pillow.“Breathe,” Nico pants, running his fingers along Jack’s long spine. “Breathe, my love—”“Just fuck me, please, I can’t wait any longer,” his husband pants, turning his face and resting his cheek against one of the cushions so he could glare weakly up at Nico. “I need you, I need this, I want you to fuck me until I can’t stand and you have to carry me into our bed—”It’s easy to grab a handful of Jack’s hair again—it’s so long now, thick and wavy and utterly perfect—and drag him all the way up until his chest lifts off the ground and his back strains in a severe bend. It’s a perfect arch that shows off the way his muscles flex and shift with the way he fights to keep up with the way Nico is pounding him into the furs, a struggle for balance and comfort while trying to take Nico even deeper than he already is.“All mine,” Nico gasps, fingers leaving imprints on the lower dimples in Jack’s back with how hard he’s fucking him. “I can’t believe you’re all mine, I can’t believe you’d let me have you, baby, fuck, fuck you feel so good—”“Then mark me up,” Jack says, arms trembling with the effort to hold himself up. “Let everyone see how you own a-all of me—oh fuck, fuck—!”The words had barely left Jack’s lips before Nico’s yanking his head to the side, blanketing his whole front overtop of Jack. He presses forward, and sinks his teeth into the clear skin on his neck. This close, he’s got no space to pull out. But judging by the cursing and pleading below, Jack clearly doesn’t mind the way Nico is just grinding into him, fucking him up in all the deepest parts inside, until it’s impossible to tell where they start and where they end. He’s dizzy with the realization, and when Nico fumbles for Jack’s hand, Jack immediately laces their fingers together, squeezing tight.“So good, feels so damned good,” Jack whispers, shuddering as Nico bites mark after mark up the column of his throat. “This is why you’re a King, isn’t it, Nico? Nobody else can fuck a god like this. Nobody else can hold me down and fuck me stupid on their cock. It’s you, baby, it’s you, it’s all—”He breaks off into a moan when Nico licks a line up the indents left on his skin, then kisses Jack’s temple, already unable to string two words together. The fire burns hot against his skin. The tight clench of Jack all around him flares even brighter.“J-Just like that. Please, Nico, fuck me up, I need to feel it inside me, I need to feel you inside me—”“Jack,” Nico chokes, and he reaches down to take Jack in his hand, hard and leaking and just as turned on as he is. Jack bucks against him and shouts Nico’s name into the pillows as he comes, body taut as a bowstring, messing up the furs beneath him.Nico slams his hips forward once, twice, and comes inside of Jack, just as he was asked. His skin and flesh and bones are blazing hot and cold at the same time, listening to Jack’s quiet whimpers and slurred praises, professing both his love for Nico and his cock in equal measures. It coaxes a fond smile out of him, even as he ducks his head and kisses the pulse point on Jack’s neck.He’s a King worthy of his god, and he’ll do anything to prove it.  The secondary pleasure that comes after a good, hard fuck is a good, long soak in a fire-warmed tub after said hard fuck.Someone clearly had the foresight to expect very debauched behaviour from their reunion, because aside from a small selection of simple soap bars left on the dresser there was also a little collection of scented sachets, packed with dried herbal pieces and floral buds. Nico had tossed them all into the enormous metal tub, and it had been an excellent decision, because their room now smells wonderfully of flowers and forest-likeness instead of drying come and sweat. Small mercies.Sitting between his knees and luxuriating against his chest, Jack sighs happily, tipping his head back to smile up at Nico.“Well, that was fun.”“Just ‘fun’?” Nico echoes, and presses his fingertip into the truly impressive bite marks blooming up and down the length of Jack’s neck. Jack shudders, then swats his wrist.“It was fun. Just because it was some of the most incredible sex of my life doesn’t mean it wasn’t fun for us too.”“That’s fair,” Nico chuckles, leaning over to press a kiss to Jack’s forehead. “You make it easy to have fun with you.”“Husband dearest, are you calling me easy?” Jack drawls, reaching up to tug on a braid, and Nico bumps their heads together.“Of course not, my darling.”“Hmm,” Jack hums, but his eyes are sparkling and there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Actually, there was something I did want to ask you. Got the idea when you kept pulling my hair to tug me all over the place.”Nico can’t help the way his spent cock literally twitches again at the mere memory of it all; the long line of Jack’s neck, the soft strands between his fingers, the way he’d let Nico drag him down on his cock and choke on it—“As I was saying,” Jack interrupts, clearly holding back a laugh now. “I don’t mind longer hair but I know you like to keep yours shorter. Would you like a haircut?”“Oh,” Nico blinks, then glances down at the wet, curling mess of dark hair that’s hanging down to his shoulders. It has been a while, and Jack’s right—between the two of them, Nico usually favoured a shorter length. “Yes, actually. That—that would be nice. Will you cut it for me?”“I most certainly will,” Jack beams, pleased in a way Nico knew he would be. For Hischierians, they’ve always taken pride in their maintenance and styling of their hair, but for the royal family, the care and upkeep of their hair and custom braids are especially significant. It was something his mother took care of when he was a boy, and then his father once Nico became of age, and then a task passed on to Jack with their marriage—a task his husband, with all his intrigue for human rituals, took dearly and seriously to heart.It takes a bit of rearranging and sloshing, but it’s not long before Jack’s got his damp hair in his hands, free from the beads and the braids, easily taking a shearing knife to the ends before passing it over each layer. Small clumps fall to the water before Jack scoops it out to lay everything on a small square of cloth on the table beside them, careful not to make a mess. He’s slow, methodical, and his fingers are soothing against Nico’s scalp as he sections of pieces and combs through little sections of tangles.For a moment, he could almost imagine they were home again, sharing a bath together after a similar night of copious bedroom activities, basking in the afterglow and each other’s company. There would be early morning training the next day, followed by patrol, and then likely some kind of meeting or strategy session. His husband would join him for lunch, usually the highlight of Nico’s midday, perhaps with a trusted guard or advisor too. There would be ambassadors, high-ranking officials, or notable persons he’d have to talk with. But there would also be visitors from the kingdom, merchants and workers and citizens alike, that Nico tries to make time to hear from. Once a fortnight, Nico will visit the primary schools or orphanages for storytime, if only to entertain the children and alleviate some of the busyness of the teachers. And whenever his tasks eat away into his dinnertime, Jack always saves a portion for them both and suggests a nice place outside of the castle to dine together so they’re not always caught up in the bustle of things.And then, when the sun is sinking into the line where sky meets the sea, Jack will take his hand and tell him they need to retire home for the night. Home. It’s his never-ending dream.There’s a tap on his shoulder; Nico opens his eyes, unaware that they’d slid shut, and looks over at Jack’s softly smiling face.“All done,” Jack says, and Nico almost startles at the pile of hair on the cloth. Gods—so much time has passed. “Shall we get ready for bed?”“Yes—thank you, love,” Nico croaks, and reaches over to help Jack out of the tub.(He didn’t disappoint. Jack’s walking with a limp, and makes no attempts to dissuade Nico from scooping him up and carrying them both onto the bed once they’re both dry and dressed again.)It’s a little sparse on the mattress, if only because there were only a limited amount of spare pillows left after Nico had dragged everything else to the ground, but it’s the most comfortable he’s felt in weeks. Here, surrounded by thick blankets, a squashy mattress, and the warmth of a still-glowing hearth, it’s easy to relax and let his guard down, knowing they’re protected, and looked after.Jack’s taken up a spot behind him, a wide-toothed wooden comb in hand. He’d also left the thin handkerchief holding all of Nico’s beads, charms, and clasps in his hands while he re-braided different sections of his hair.“The same layout as before?” Jack asks, running his fingers through the shorter strands, looking over his hard work with a sense of pride and satisfaction. “Family, kingship, captaincy, patron piece, vessel piece, courting knot and marriage braids?”“Yes,” Nico nods, and feels Jack start to section off the braids and fix some of the dividing clasps in his hair. An unexpected idea strikes, just as his husband picks up the last metal piece from the handkerchief. It’s certainly not within tradition, but given their circumstances…He waits until Jack pats his shoulder, then twists around, reaches over, and takes Jack’s hands in his own. Jack’s eyebrows jump up.“Moonlight. There’s something that just came to mind, if you are willing. The timing is technically off for it, and we don’t have the appropriate paraphernalia or audience either, but—would you like to do a vow renewal with me?”“A vow renewal?” Jack repeats, but he’s clearly interested. Nico nods, warmed by the curiosity.“Normally, we’d do this at the ten-year mark of our marriage because of its significance, but considering everything that we’ve been through up until now…I think we’re more than entitled to take this on.”“Alright,” Jack nods, scooting closer. “A ritual, I’m good at those. What do we need to do?”“Well, we’d usually have a ceremony,” Nico says, a wistful smile peeking through. “Especially since we’re royal. There would be a three-day celebration at the very least, and we’d make public speeches and a small part of our renewal would be done live before the congregation and the Kingdom. We’d have the guidance of a couple that have already made their renewals—probably would’ve been my parents—and we’d have our own witnesses, like we did at our wedding—”“I am not bringing Quinn and Luke in here with my neck looking like this,” Jack jokes, and Nico ducks over to peck him in the lips.“One of the better ideas you’ve ever had. But really, it’s supposed to be simpler than a marriage ceremony. There’s three elements we have to address, and again, we’d normally have more time to prepare, but I think we can make do.”He takes a breath, recalling the endless hours of lessons and teachings he’d gone through in his youth. “First, a confession of our love to each other again. We’re meant to consider everything we’ve learned about each other in the time we’ve spent together, and talk about what we’ve come to love about each other since our marriage. Then, we reveal a handmade gift to each other, crafted personally and out of love, and generally something within our profession. I probably would’ve gone to the forges and put something together for you,” Nico adds. His father’s forge was one of his favourite places in the whole castle—he could easily envision spending hours there, sketching and creating the perfect gift for Jack.Jack squeezes his hand, a little smile of understanding on his face. “And the last one?”“An exchange, chosen by the two of us, that we both agree on. This one is…a little vague. Scholars and historians have debated over the descriptive language used and the translations done on old texts about kingdom culture, but the general consensus is that it just simply has to be something that’s ours, and that we both choose to give away, whether it’s to each other or towards something else. Some of the wealthier families make a donation of gold together to a patronage of their choosing. Others might decide to cook a feast for their whole village together. But the majority of couples, since it’s simpler, just choose to exchange a kiss with one another. I like to think it’s just a little more romantic.”Jack laughs, a delighted sound. “You would like that,” he teases, but it’s tender and fond. “Alright, Neeks, I’m in. Let’s make an unconventional vow renewal.”Nico could probably float up to the ceiling right now, with the weightlessness of his heart. Grinning, he shifts so that he’s facing Jack, and takes his husband’s hands in his own.“I’ll start,” he says, softly. “A confession to you, my moonlight, my love. In the time that we’ve grown together after our marriage, I’ve only learned to love you more. To listen to you, learn from you, to exist alongside you, and to learn the depths of how far you would go for me, to protect me even as I selfishly claw my way through danger and torment for an impossible goal—I’m only honoured and humbled by your care and love.”“Nico, baby.” Jack’s expression is gentle. “You knew I’d follow you wherever you went. My confession is that even after we’d courted, married, and lived our lives together as husbands, I’m still helplessly in love with you. I’m endlessly in love with you. It doesn’t matter if you have to swim to the lowest point in the ocean or walk into the burning lands of this Continent. I would have gone into the fires right with you. I would do anything you asked of me.”This may be a mistake. Nico’s not sure he could get through the rest of their renewals if he’s already on the verge of tears now.Jack reaches out and sweeps a strand of hair behind Nico’s ear, and kisses him on the tip of his nose. “What’s next, husband?” he asks, sweetly.Nico clears his throat. “Um. Well, we have limited supplies here, but…we can probably try to make a gift for each other with something in this room.”Jack bobs his head. “Like a crafting session,” he muses, and then his eyes sparkle. “Turn away. I have an idea.”Nico immediately pouts, tugging on Jack’s wrist. “You aren’t going to show me?”“Don’t give me those sad eyes, you’ll see it in literally minutes.”So Nico finds himself banished to the corner of the bed, wracking his brain for a handcrafted gift while Jack merrily conducts his secret experiment in the other corner of the room. His gaze drifts across the room, taking in the mess of blankets and pillows shoved into the corner of the room, Lunesteele propped up against the hearth, a few of their personal belongings laid scattered across the table, one of Jack’s throwing knives in its sheath tucked beneath Nico’s chest guard—The idea comes quickly, buoyed by a tale he’d heard in passing while he was still an infantry member of his father’s army. The whispered story of a soldier who’d loved another, who’d plucked a button from his own uniform and sewed it onto his lover’s piece, just over the heart. A private, personal token only they would know the significance of. During the heat of battle, when an enemy had launched a spear his way, the tip had serendipitously glanced off the button, shattering it but in turn, saving the soldier's life.He pushes himself off the bed and picks up his chest guard, brushing his fingers over the well-worn, well-kept leather. He doesn’t have buttons so much as he has ties and string, but sewn around the fold of his collar are a few distinct pieces: polished wood, etched with the image of a dawning sun over the iconic cliffs and castle in the Kingdom of Hischier. Smiling to himself, he takes Jack’s knife, cuts through the thread, and returns to the bed with the piece in hand. Jack is working on something hidden on the other side, so Nico busies himself with the handcrafted aspect until he hears his husband turn back around.“Ready?” Jack asks, waggling his eyebrows, holding something hidden between his cupped palms.“I’m a bit worried now,” Nico jokes, and figures he deserves the light kick to the thigh. “Alright, alright. Show me, then. Your handcrafted gift to your husband.”“Well, I’d apologize in advance for ruining the textiles,” Jack hedges, but he opens his hand to reveal—a woven bracelet, expertly twined together, an intricate pattern running through the pieces before ending in a delicate knot on each side. Jack must’ve cut apart pieces of the pillowcases and blankets for the colour variety, because it’s beautiful in spite of its simplicity—white pieces interlaced with the shimmery silver underside of the blanket cover, a sliver of blue that must be from Jack’s jacket, and then, threading through the middle, a single line of red, a significance of love and fate entwined with everything.“You made that so quickly,” Nico sputters. “Jack—it’s lovely.”“Not as pretty as my own husband,” Jack flirts, but he’s shy as he holds it out to Nico. “May I put it on you?”It feels like their wedding ceremony all over again. They’d fidgeted together in the middle of the podium, waiting for the old Chancellor to artfully finish entwining the union knot and draping the sheer, glittery veil over their joined hands, before he announced them married and joined for life. Except this time, instead of an enormous congregation, it’s just the two of them; instead of the triumphant mid-morning sun, they’re illuminated by the brightness of the moon, Mercury, Venus, and Mars streaming into their room, glowing against the backdrop of the night sky. Jack’s fingers are careful with the strands, fixing the bracelet around Nico’s wrist and tying it off tight, but not uncomfortably so around his left hand.“You make my gift look like a child’s attempt,” Nico admits, and Jack nudges him again.“You know you could simply hand me a bunch of wildflowers you gathered along the path and I’d still be beyond happy.”“I would if anything grew here in the season,” Nico says seriously. “But—well, this is perhaps a bit of a cheat, since I took this from my chest guard, but I added my own design to it, for you.”He sets the piece down in the middle of Jack’s hand, the cliff and the castle and the sun—along with a carefully engraved curve of the moon next to the artistic solar flares, almost like an embrace. It’s not difficult to tell what the new addition and placement represents.“Nico,” Jack says, expression crumpling, looking decidedly heartbroken. “Your mother carved those for you—she sewed this onto your guard, I can’t accept—”“I know,” Nico nods, pressing the piece firmly into Jack’s palm. “And I took it off, and I carved the rest of it for you.”“You know I’m dogshit at sewing,” Jack mumbles, but he’s hiding a wobble in his voice. He closes his fingers around the piece, like it’s a precious stone rather than a weathered, polished piece of wood. “Thank you, love, it’s—it’s so pretty.”“You’re most welcome,” Nico hums, and he gathers Jack in his arms, lowering them both onto the cozy mess of their bed, the weight of Jack laid out over his middle. He inhales the clean scent of soap, the freshness of florals, and the natural scent that’s just Jack, homy and loving and familiar. “This last part is the easiest for us, I’d imagine.”Jack props his elbows up so he could gaze down at Nico, warm. “I’d say we’ve had plenty of practice,” he laughs, tracing the curve of Nico’s cheek with his finger. “My husband.”“My husband,” Nico echoes, and they meet each other halfway, delivering a fourth kind of kiss to each other for the night. Soft, adoring, passionate, and happy.Nico cups his palm over Jack’s cheek and sinks into the peace of their embrace.Right here, right now, he’s content.

The thick, cloying scent of smoke, the slow rebuild of the manor, and the rapidly retreating fire is starting to become an ever-present part of his dreams.Distantly, Nico feels like he should be worried, should take the churning in his gut and the anxious toil inside his chest for the warning that it is, the sign that something isn’t right anymore.He’s had repeated dreams before, but never like this.Not once like this.But he can’t bring himself to look away from the manor. It’s always been a grand visage, holding itself up with an air of mysterious importance, even as it starts off broken and destroyed. Nico’s felt a lot of different emotions gazing upon it, most of it conflicting, and much more of it detached. How can he know so much about this place, when he’s never seen it before in his life?
Nico King!
The surge of strength is new. The inexplicable call towards the flames is scarier, but there’s a part of him that trembles with anticipation. This excitement flares through him, almost an out-of-body experience, and Nico takes a step forward towards the manor.The building shivers. Nico King, it croons, powerful and meek and demanding and pleading. Nico King, Nico King. He hesitates, bare feet digging into the soft earth. There’s something tugging inside his stomach—an omen, a warning.Almost as though it could sense his trepidation, a feeling of calm washes over him, as gentle as the tide under a waning moon, as soft as the breeze drifting over the cliff.And then he’s filled with one thought, and one thought only.As soon as he enters that manor, he will finally become a true match worthy for Jack.

Luke
 He wakes amidst a disorienting collapse of his subconscious, arms shaking, chest heaving for air. There’s a pressure wrapped around his ribs, like a thick leather band being pulled taut, all of his body weight resting on one aching line. But a moment later the tight squeeze releases and he’s flopping onto his back, bouncing slightly on the stuffed mattress and saved from an undignified fall off the bed onto the cold ground.Above him, a familiar face swims into view in the darkness of the room. A hand presses over his chest, where his heart is beating frantically behind his ribcage.“Luke,” Simon says, concern etched in the shadows over his face and in the furrow of his eyebrows. “Luke, breathe. Breathe.”Luke hiccups on a short inhale, then forces himself to release the air slowly, staggeringly. Simon’s thumb traces a slow, soothing circle into his skin, and he tries to focus on the languid pattern until he’s stopped shaking so badly.He doesn’t dare close his eyes, though; the afterimages too sharp, too terrible. It still comes in bursts and flashes, filling his mind against his will.
The battlefield—the remnants of a castle—the dark sky—fearuncertaintyconfusion—Jack, Jack, Jack, JACK—
Luke lifts a hand and cups the side of Simon’s neck, a faint tremor still running through his fingers, and tries to focus on the steady pulse-beat against his palm instead.“Thanks,” he rasps, fighting to keep his voice steady. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”Simon hums, ducking his head, and drops sleepily back down onto the bed next to him. His hair is tousled, eyes already drifting shut, though his gaze is still tinged with care and worry as he blinks at Luke.“It’s alright,” he murmurs comfortingly. “ ‘S just a dream.”Luke swallows, stares up at the ceiling, and makes a non-committal noise in reply. Simon couldn’t possibly know, but Luke would give anything for that to be a mere dream.For it to be anything other than Jack and Nico’s prophecy.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Part II

Jack.
 The residual cheer of the homecoming and celebration from the night before has died down by now, but it’s still enough to bolster Jack’s energy as he starts his day.The sheer joy he’d felt waking up with Nico’s furnace-like body heat and trumpet-like snore in his ear had been unparalleled. Cocooned in his husband’s arms, pressed chest-to-back with Nico’s palm splayed gently over his stomach, Jack had finally allowed himself to relax into the rare moment of peace and indulge in the cuddle Nico was so insistent on keeping him in. Their shared bed had been too big and lonely for too long.He, Quinn, Jonas and Timo had returned before Nico, Luca and Luke had, and in that time they’d essentially locked themselves up in the study with Nina while they waited, pouring over the map and the ever-marching mass of their enemies, all approaching Havenburst. And now that Nico has returned, it would inevitably mean a stringent debrief and strategy session between everyone.But before that, there are duties that even a lost King has to attend to, if only for the sake of maintaining morale in the Keep.So, Nico after roused with the slow-climbing dawn, and the two of them had eaten a brisk meal in bed and enjoyed a slightly-less-brisk tumble under the sheets, they’d continued their morning in opposite directions. They’d separated in the courtyard, but not before Nico had gently taken his chin in hand and laid the sweetest, most romantic kiss over Jack, under the faintest hint of snowdrift on the cool morning.“I’ll see you soon, moonlight,” Nico had whispered, eyes soft and warm as he blinked down at him, lashes sweeping over his cheeks. Jack had felt a sudden kinship with a lot of the swooning maidens mentioned in popular fairy tale novels. “Have a good morning, alright?”Jack could only nod, heat simmering inside his chest, the beautiful marks Nico had left on his neck hidden behind a hastily acquired neckwarmer.With Jonas and Timo accompanying Nico down in the training guards for morning sparring, and Nina making a routine patrol along the wall with Quinn to discuss defensive strategies, Jack had figured he’d spend the morning continuing his attempts to scry along the enemy lines. It’s a slow, tedious process, and something nobody else but him could’ve done, so he fully expects a few hours alone to himself, at the very least.Which is how he almost misses Luke hovering by the door before slowly walking slowly into the study.“Jack?”He twitches, glancing up from the small, low dish filled with water, rippling with incoherent shadows and fleeting images.“Hey, Lukey. I thought you were going up on the wall with Nina and Quinn.”Luke shrugs, footsteps shuffling across the floor. “Didn’t go up,” he says, then takes a deep breath. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”“Uh—sure,” Jack says distractedly, moving the markers over top of the map. “What is it?”“It’s serious,” Luke says, stiff.“I’m listening.”“Jack.” Then— “Cold Quick-Silver Horror That Chases.” Jack snaps his head up, jaw unhinging in shock. Luke stares unapologetically back, arms crossed tightly over his front. Jack makes an inarticulate sound in his throat.“Did you just…use my forge-name at me?”“I needed your attention,” Luke says, only a shade petulant. “Because I need to talk to you. Immediately. Privately and discreetly.”“Alright,” Jack replies, turning around to face his brother slowly, leaning back against the table. “That got my attention. I’m listening, Luke.”Luke’s gaze darts out into the hallway, and then he covers the distance briskly and closes the door. At the same time, a heavy sort of weight sinks into the air, blanketing the room, and everything stops dead in time. The flickering candle, the thin curls of smoke, the slow drift of snow outside—frozen, unmoving. Jack glances around them before turning back to Luke, frowning deeply and questioningly. His brother, though gifted as equally as himself and Quinn, had never used magic as often as they did.What is going on?Luke sinks into one of the chairs across from him, folding his long legs awkwardly this way and that. It would’ve been a hilarious sight (because really, of course Luke had to come back taller and bigger than him and Quinn both) had Jack not seen the dark circles under his eyes and the terse clench of his jaw. His worry and confusion spikes, but he waits, and patiently watches Luke put his thoughts together.“I saw something,” his brother finally says, quietly. “About Nico.”“Saw what about Nico?” Jack asks, brow crinkling, instantly tense. “Was it something from our enemies? Is he alright?”“No. I saw,” Luke says, with emphasis, and Jack’s heart drops out of his chest and through several layers of frozen winter landscape beneath his feet. “I saw a prophecy. It was definitively about Nico. And I—”He inhales slowly, somewhat shakily. “I have to tell you, Jack. About what’s going to happen. About what will change. And what Nico will become after this war.”The words ring in his ears.“What?” Jack asks, and he’s not surprised that it comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Luke— what?” Luke’s eyes are dark, looking almost beyond Jack. “You don’t believe me?”“Of course I believe you,” Jack retorts, outraged. “But what—how—a prophecy? Luke, that kind of magic—”“You need to see it,” Luke interrupts. His voice resounds around the room, hollow, haunting. “You have to see it, and you’ll understand why—why I’m so fucking scared.”“Wait—” Jack stammers, but Luke pitches forward with the speed and dexterity of an animal in hiding and taps Jack sharply in the center of his forehead.All at once, the study blacks out, the ground dissolves into nothing beneath his feet, and suddenly he’s slipping through a chaotic stream of everything. Flashing glimpses into all that and nothing, the perceived present and reimagined past battering his senses at every angle. It’s worse than the Waste, worse than any kind of dreamscape he’s ever conjured. Jack flails his arms wildly, desperately, struggling to make sense of up and down before he’s abruptly stable again, feet on solid ground, stumbling like he’d just fallen and spun his way down a flight of stairs.Heart pounding up into his throat, Jack looks up.He’s standing, undeniably, in the scorched grounds of Altherfield after their final battle. The familiar, endless stretch of plains lay before and behind him, still ravaged by thick gouges from war weaponry, the footfalls of thousands of soldiers, and the raging fire that had swept across the grass and plant life. The once vibrant plains are spiritless in death. The soil is clotted beneath his feet. The air is stagnant, but charged with a strange kind of buzz, like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm. The sky is so dark, even though Jack knows, somehow, that it’s daytime. Off in the distance, standing on the cliffside and nestled against a buffeting mountain face, are the torn remains of the castle and its towers.Walking alone towards the detritus is Nico.Jack’s heart seizes inside his chest.Nico’s back isn’t an unfamiliar sight, but Jack can sense finality about him, with the way he cuts through the dead earth at his feet. His cloak is gone, Solaris is drawn in his hand, and he’s so lonely, and unprotected.Because there is something descending down to Nico from above. It’s hard to see, hard to make out, even as Jack squints upwards, trying to look past a film that seems to have settled over his eyes, painted over the sky presiding over them. It’s a congealed mess of mass, dark and light with no middling colour, not even a hint of shadow, slipping and curling over itself as it sinks from the heavens to the earth below. Terror like he’d never experienced pumps through his veins like a poison.Nico, either unaware or uncaring, carries on his trek, walking with single-minded focus towards his old home.No—not his home. There is something smoking and burning hidden inside the hollowed-out skeleton of the castle; a house—? No, a manor, tall and regal and proud, burning and burning and burning, the flames so bright and hot it’s difficult to look at it head-on.The strange mass is chanting. It takes him a moment to realize it’s Nico’s name.“Wait—” Jack gasps, and he recoils in surprise when he hears Luke’s voice sound from his throat, disorienting and confusing. Further away, the chanting grows faster, hungrier, and enraptured.
Niconiconiconiconiconiconico.
Understanding washes over him. If Nico walks into that burning manor, he will never return the same way again.“Nico!” Jack shouts in Luke’s voice, lunging after the King, and his foot snags on something half-buried in the turned soil, nearly sending him sprawling to the ground. Something limp, humanlike.He looks down, dread spiraling deep inside.And feels Luke’s anguish as his own when he sees Jack’s body lying dead across the ruined earth, blue eyes empty, gazing unseeingly at the wretched abominations descending upon them from the blackened sky.  He’s catapulted back into reality with a great deal of heaving, gasping, and the sour taste of bile coating the back of this throat.When everything blurs back into focus, Jack finds himself kneeling on the ground on all fours, shivers wracking his whole body, making noises from the back of his vocal chords like an animal being tortured. He’s shaking like he’d just walked through the arctic unclothed. His stomach makes another valiant effort in emptying itself of its breakfast.Beside him, Luke is kneeling and holding him upright, patting his back nervously but soothingly.“Sorry—sorry,” his brother mumbles, pale and expression remorseful. “I didn’t realize it would affect you so badly.”“Forget me,” Jack grits out, shoving the nausea down pushing himself upright. “What the fuck was that? What the actual fuck was that?”Luke lifts a helpless shoulder. “That's all that I could see.”“Bull-fucking-shit,” Jack snaps, climbing back onto unsteady feet. Luke follows, looking reluctant, like he wants to redirect Jack onto the ground or a chair, but seems to think better of it. “That’s not—that can’t be it. That can’t be a—a prophecy. There was no gods damned meaning. It was just a scene of intrusive magic.”“Denying it won’t change what it is,” Luke says carefully. “Intrusive or not, it’s prophetic. And, up to a certain extent, it’s not a lie. It’s pulling from what may truly happen in the future.”“Then what is this?” Jack demands, angry. His hands ball up into fists, nails digging into the flesh of his palm. “All that you’ve borne witness too—what does it mean, Luke, what’s this future of ours?”“It’s a premonition of Nico’s decline,” Luke says bluntly, and Jack recoils again, feeling sucker punched to the gut. No, no, no— “The rise and fall of a leader, a human leader, as history is wont to do, and doomed to repeat. And as righteous and kind as he is, Nico is no different—you know this, we’ve all seen this. Nico has the potential, just as every forefather before him, to become a feared king, not a revered one, who will spill blood and raze everything to the ground. And if the loss of his kingdom and his people wasn’t enough to tip the scales, then clearly something else will.”Jack had once thought, perhaps foolishly, that the fall of the kingdom and the death of his brother would be the hardest thing he’d ever have to go through. It’s clear now that the universe is crueler than he’d anticipated.“No,” Jack shakes his head. He refuses to let hopelessness overwhelm him. Fucking—fucking prophecies, he won’t allow himself to bend to this. “He won’t—”“You saw what I saw, Jack,” Luke says, very quietly. His brother’s hands shake as he reaches out, curling them around Jack’s tense wrists. “If it’s you—if he lost you— ancestors help and guide us, but there will be nothing we can do to stop Nico.”“That won’t happen.”“There’s no guarantee.”“Then I can’t let that happen,” Jack breaks, twisting and dragging Luke into a rib-creaking hug. His mind is set adrift, a lone raft tossed about a storm, left to crash against the towering waves. “I can’t. Luke—you know I will do anything to keep that from happening.”For a moment, Luke is still, as unmoving and withdrawn as a looming cliff face in a storm.But a second later he deflates, shoulders slumping forward, and he returns Jack’s hold gingerly, like he’s afraid of crushing him.“You know what they say about knowing a prophecy,” Luke mumbles. “They have to exist as an unknown in order to remain pure. It could mean nothing, it could mean everything, but the minute someone knows, it’s over. Knowing means understanding. And understanding means change. And I don’t know how much of it is influenced by my own perception, after living in the Inreality for so long. Because it could mean a lot of things, but I think you’ll get why all my focus is honed in on you being dead, Jack.”Emotions well up and trap themselves in the center of his chest, like a bubble about to burst. “I’m sorry,” Jack whispers. “I’m sorry you’ve been alone this entire time, Luke.”“That’s hardly your fault,” Luke says softly, patting his back. “And it’s alright. We know, so we can figure it out now. Between three gods and at least four genius military strategists, we can’t possibly be at a loss for ideas.”It coaxes a laugh from Jack, at least, even if it is watery and weak.Even if it all feels like empty reassurances and helpless white lies.  
Nico.
 The current situation of Nina’s study is cramped. The room itself is not the biggest—Nina prefers smaller, private quarters, and generally dislikes unnecessarily grand spaces the way other Commanders might favour. Plus, his sister is quite the scholar; the walls, floor, and any flat surface is buried with books, journals, and scrolls, be it wills or maps or anything else that requires a length of paper. It makes Nico nervous as he shuffles along the edge of the table, keeping an arm around Jack so neither of them knock anything over.“I swear she didn’t have this much the last time I visited,” he whispers to Jack, who shrugs and hums in reply. He’s toying with a small charcoal piece in his hand, turning the pads of his fingers grey with the smudging. Nico reaches down and taps his wrist, teasing.“You’re going to leave fingerprints on everything you touch. I’ll know if you go for a second glass of wine tonight.”That manages to get an amused little huff from Jack, but nothing more. Nico frowns, observing; his husband’s demeanour has changed drastically since they’d gone about their errands this morning, and not in a good way. It’s undeniable that something is upsetting Jack, given the faraway look in his eyes, his stiff shoulders and even stiffer set of his jaw. He keeps pulling and tugging at the sleeves of his jacket, lost in thought, and Luke keeps glancing over at them in a wholly unsubtle kind of way. Nico has no idea how to broach this, not when Jack’s relaxed, happy smile from this morning had all but vanished in a few hours. He’s still leaning against Nico, though, staying close with his hand resting warmly around Nico’s waist, so it can’t be anything he’s done. But the distraction is worrying, and the utter lack of explanation even more so.“Baby,” Nico whispers, leaning in. “Is everything—”The door to the study suddenly opens, startling everyone. Jonas steps in with an apologetic tilt of his head.“Sorry, sorry. There was a section of the northwest wall that needed repair, and I lost track of the time.”“It’s fine,” Nina waves him off. “We’re all here now, and there hasn’t been news from the scouts or on the map since you all arrived anyway. We can start with the most important observations and jump into the planning that needs to follow.”She walks around the map in the center of the study, and waves her hand over the dagger pinning a little writhing spot of inky black on the tabletop.“That’s our guy, huh?” Timo asks, eyes narrowed as he surveys the map.“That’s our guy,” Nina nods. “It’s both a blessing and a curse for us, the way we discovered the source of our problems. When the flare of the gods’ rebirth sounded across the Continent, the resonance triggered a similar burst of energy behind enemy lines, and brought our so-called mastermind to light. And I wish I were more surprised, to be honest.”Nina’s mouth twists with contempt as she drums her fingers across the table top. “The Governor of the Independent Guilds has always held disdain for the Kingdom of Hischier, and our liaison with the gods.”“That’s putting it very lightly,” Luca says darkly. “I still haven’t forgotten about that failed anti-magic charter they tried to push upon us and allied kingdoms just a few years ago.”“Not to mention the divine mind control conspiracies,” Timo adds under his breath.Nico inhales, and exhales, very, very slowly. He tightens his arm around Jack’s shoulders, subconsciously wanting to keep him close.The kingdom held its share of the vast plains, forests and seaside, but outside of Hischierian borders the neighbouring areas had always been teeming with an ever-shifting array of settlements, colonies, and unified estates. They’d kept a close eye on the power struggle since Nico’s great-grandfather’s time, and the rise of the guilds had been a point of concern amongst Nico’s internal council, especially with the way they’d treated Jack and his brothers.Between them, Nico’s not sure whose contention runs deeper; his repulsion at the Governor for his blatant hatred of Jack and loathsome attitude, or the Governor for the perceived weakness on Nico’s part for granting royalty to and marrying a god in his kingdom.“Which begs the question: why is he currently in control of not just one, but two Heirloom weapons?” Nina continues, and with a wave her hand over the map, the vestige of the Governor grows until it’s big enough for them to make out a definitive silhouette on the table. A corporeal, human shape, dark like an ink spill and wavy around the edges like a mirage. Now that it’s larger, Nico can see the odd shapes he’d thought were mismatched horns before are actually two sets of handles.And certainly not of the small-sized variety.Jack sighs, long and tired. “This is the figure that was stalking me through the Waste,” he says, leaning into the table. His eyes are sharp, mouth turned down into a severe frown. “He tried to possess me several times—” “What?” Nico says, loudly.“Unsuccessfully, obviously,” Jack adds, squeezing Nico’s hand reassuringly. “But it makes sense now, how he could worm his way into a god-realm, to try and overtake me, juvenile as his attempts were. He’s being aided by magic.”“Well isn’t that absolutely fucking hypocritical?” Jonas snarls, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Gave us grief for years and years, pushing and blocking and challenging Nico at every turn with the excuse that he has a god-husband and must be affected, his mind turned to mush and manipulated, only to turn around and seek that exact same kind of power. The same actions that he wanted to call us a traitor to mankind for!”“But what has he got?” Luca frowns. “Which Heirlooms are powerful enough to grant him this kind of strength, and to try to hurt Jack like this?”“It would certainly be an offensive type,” Quinn says, and all heads swivel towards him. The Quinn Nico knew before the rebirth would’ve shied away from the sudden, undivided attention, but now, his brother-in-law takes it all in stride. The flare of fire in his gaze is unwavering, and burns with ferociousness. He’s angry, and it makes sense—these are the people that killed Quinn and tried to hunt his brothers, after all.“God-made and god-blessed weapons are actually far more common than you might think, but there are, to date, only five on this Continent that are strong and magically robust enough to be considered Heirlooms. One of them is Lunesteele, which was certainly on our enemies’ mind when they attacked the kingdom. The Warhammer is one of the five, along with the Greatsword, the Pendulum Axe, the Riteknife, and the Lonely Shield. And based on the size and shape of those very odd protrusions behind our man, I’d say he’s already got both the Greatsword and the Axe in his possession.”“Fuck,” Luca says, haggard. “What can he achieve with them?”“God-weapons aren’t meant for humans to wield, but if he’s smart? Could be anything,” Luke answers, and an uncomfortable silence falls over everyone.“What are our chances of success defending against the Governor and his army head-on with what he currently possesses?” Jonas asks Nina, who sighs.“With only the soldiers and guards at Havenburst? Low. We’ll need the support of the Garrison if we want a true fighting chance. And not to discredit Jack and Lunesteele’s strength, but the last thing I want is for him to face two Heirloom weapons at the hands of an amateur.”“Rouse our allies in the central and west ends of the Continent,” Nico cuts in, already mentally sorting through trustworthy friends and supporters they could hopefully count on. “The hunting clans, the desert colonies, fuck, even the northeast archipelagos, if they’ll gives us their time. The more friends we can rally, the better. We are not leaving our gods unprotected again. How long until the Biel soldiers can head south to Havenburst?”“The Garrison is a transplantable unit,” Luca says. “They’re always ready to move. I can have them mobilized within three days if needed, even if it’s just to send a first wave of support.”“Good,” Nico nods. “We’ll do that first.”“What about the other god-weapons?” Timo asks. “What if we try to arm Quinn and Luke with one of the remaining pieces? If we were to find an Heirloom, which one—”“The Shield,” Quinn, Jack, and Luke say simultaneously.Nico raises an eyebrow. Jack coughs.“The Heirlooms aren’t without their personalities, inanimate as they may appear. Given our current circumstances, and with our troops in fewer numbers, not only would the Shield be more beneficial—”“It’s also less likely to revolt and gut us in turn,” Luke says flatly. “Which is, incidentally, what the Riteknife is best known for.”
“What?”
“It’s the most volatile of the brunch, is what Luke means,” Quinn interjects. “And also an unsurprising trait for the smallest weapon of the five. The same way smaller soldiers need to survey the battlefield and fight in a more cerebral way, the smallest weapon relies on its own sharp wits and even sharper blade to earn its status as an Heirloom. Even if it’s not very well documented, it’s played a gruesome role in many conflicts and quarrels.”“And how do you find one of these?” Nico asks. “I don’t imagine they might appear on some traveling merchant’s wagon that we can conveniently purchase. Even tracking down Lunesteele took us far longer than anticipated, and we only succeeded because a greedy fool started gambling with it and it stirred up rumours in the basin regions.”“It’s hard to say,” Quinn shakes his head. “Whispers and word-of-mouth is actually your best chance at finding one, because rumours are not always baseless, and as long as you know what to listen for you’ll know what to look for. But you could put together a plan and search endlessly across the Continent and still end up at a dead end. Sometimes they’re lost. Other times they’re hidden. And sometimes, they’re right where you need them to be, at the exact time and moment you need them the most. That’s what makes Heirlooms so unique compared to other god-forged pieces.”“That they essentially have a will and the means to conduct?” Nina frowns.“Yes and no. It’s not science, or alchemy, or reason. The same way magic doesn’t always follow the ‘rules’, and gods don’t always behave like ‘humans’, neither do they.”“My head fucking hurts,” Luca sighs, scrubbing his palm over his beard. He looks as deflated as Nico feels. “Let’s go back to this in a moment. What we can guarantee right now is the Garrison coming to our aid. It would be blatantly unwise to take the public roads—is there any way we can plot a route to bring them here without alerting our enemies?”“Of course,” Nina replies, looking faintly miffed Luca would imply otherwise. Luca raises his hands in mock surrender as she strides over to Nico and Jack’s side of the room, reaching into yet another pile of scrolls and pamphlets to pull out a map. “Here—Nico—help me unroll this.”Nico dutifully takes hold of the one end and draws the paper over the table.“Shit, Nico, your hand,” Jonas says suddenly, and everyone’s attention immediately snaps downward. “What?” Nico startles, but instantly sees Jonas’ reason for concern. It’s the cut across his palm he got in the cave, scabbed over but still showing up red and raw and especially painful under the pale lighting of the study. “Oh—it’s just a cut. It looks worse than it actually is, believe me. It’s already started healing.”“Are you sure about that?” Quinn asks, eyebrows knitting together. “It looks deep, Nico.” Nico tries not to shy away at the sudden scrutiny; this is far from the worst injury he’s ever had, but it is, unexpectedly, one of the gnarliest.“It’s just a knife cut. I honestly don’t even feel it anymore.” He opens and closes his hand, flexing, barely feeling a twinge. “It’ll be gone in a few days, don’t worry about that. If anything, Luca kept the knife, so if anything happens we can examine it.”“What?” Nina wrinkles her nose. “Luc, please tell me you cleaned it—”“You know, it was already kind of clean even though Nico found it in an underground cave—”“You cut your hand open on something in a fucking underground cave and you haven’t even gotten it checked?” Jack demands, snatching Nico’s wrist up. Timo and Jonas make eye contact with Nico, offering their best oh you’ve fucked up, brother expressions. Nico glowers at them and pretends not to notice.“Why were you even in a cave? How did you even get out?” Nina is asking, and Luca looks like he’d rather brave a double midnight shift on the wall than explain how he and Nico entered and eventually escaped.“See for yourself,” he offers, and pulls Breaker out from its sheath and lays it over the map.It’s instant chaos.For a second, Nico isn’t even sure what’s happening—all he knows is that the gods are suddenly shouting, their voices overlapping rapidly, and then Jack is dragging him back with an alarming amount of strength, Nina on his other side. Quinn is shoving Jonas, Luca, and Timo away from the table, Luke has slammed his palm down over the sharp side of the knife, his other hand wrenching tight over the handle—There’s a high pitched ringing in the room, and a moment later Nico realizes it’s coming from Lunesteele, at Jack’s hip. Lunesteele, who is suddenly radiating light; the gleaming white of the Warhammer is so sharp it almost hurts to look at, vibrating furiously from its spot on Jack’s hip. Jack wrenches the weapon free, eyes wide, holding tight to the handle.On the table, Breaker rattles beneath Luke’s palm like a loose wagon wheel, nearly shaking the whole thing, but it stops just as quickly as it began. Luke inhales sharply, and he hesitantly, cautiously, lifts his hand ever-so slightly off the blade.“What the fuck,” he says, hoarse.“What the fuck,” Quinn echos, eyes burning fire-hot.“What is going on,” Nico demands, and all three gods whirl around to look at Luca.“Luca—where did you get this knife?” Jack asks. His hand is tight around Nico’s, and he’s staring between Luca and the knife like he can’t believe his eyes.“Nico did,” Luca says, bewildered. “We—when we were fleeing from the guards at Caskwater, we snuck into an underground smuggler’s route in the caves. We tried to follow a river out into the sea, but the bridge broke beneath us, and we fell in. The chains around my hands got tangled in the debris. I was going to sink, and drown.”“You didn’t tell me this,” Nina says, the sharp note of her words hiding the hurt in her voice. Nico winces.“A lot happened. I panicked, I dove in after Luca, and I was trying to look for something sharp, something I could hack the chains apart with. And then, as I was fumbling around, I cut my hand open on the knife underwater. I wasn’t really focused on that though, not when Luca was stuck.”“And you broke prison chains with that?” Timo asks, incredulous. “How? It’s so thin.”“Well, I definitely wasn’t going to question it,” Nico protests. “We were exhausted and freezing and just trying to escape. I told Luca to keep it, and we just kept going. It was just there.” “Right where you needed it to be,” Quinn interjects, chewing hard on his lower lip. His gaze meets Nico’s, considering. “Nico. I don’t think you realize this, and I don’t think either of you knew what was going on, but this is it. This is an Heirloom. You pulled the fucking Riteknife out of a cave in the middle of an Arctic prison and you didn’t even know it.”Jack’s hand tightens instantly on his wrist, to the point of pain.A silence so startled, so disbelieving follows suit. They could’ve heard a pin drop in the room.Nina recovers first.“You cannot be serious,” she says, half-incredulous, half-disbelieving. “Just—like that? Just like that, there’s another Heirloom in our midst? And all this time, it was apparently hanging off of my older brother’s belt?”“Apparently,” Luke echoes. His knuckles are white around the handle. His fangs protrude slightly from his mouth as he speaks.“No,” Nico says, head spinning. “No, that’s not possible—how? Quinn, it’s just a knife, it didn’t have any—any violent magic on it, or anything like that—”“That’s because you’ve changed it,” Quinn interrupts.Startled silence falls over them all. Slowly, carefully, Quinn steps away from the anxious-looking men by the wall, gestures for Luke to move his hand, and picks Breaker up off the table. He rests the blade out on his open palm, balancing the handle on the flat of his hand. The knife glimmers, liquid-esque, light scattering across it like a stained-glass wind chime on a breezy afternoon. Quinn inhales sharply.“Blood and a name,” he says quietly, turning to Nico again. “You bled for it, when you retrieved it, and then you renamed it. And then you gifted it to your brother, and he took possession of it. What do you call it now?”“Breaker,” Luca croaks, looking between Quinn and Nico.“Luck-maker,” Nico adds, thinking back to their exchange in the cave, their marvel at their unbelievable fortune he hadn’t thought to question, just grateful for the nearly impossible way such a small knife had managed to cut through metal chains. Now it feels more like the brewings of a curse. “Because—because we were so fucking lucky that I found it. A minute more, and Luca would’ve drowned.”“Right when you needed it the most,” Quinn counters, repeating his earlier explanation. “I think it’s not wrong to say that the weapon certainly made itself useful, even if you’ve transformed it and turned it into something else, perhaps. Take it,” he adds, returning the knife to Luca, who flinches away.“I don’t want something that can hurt any one of us,” he says harshly, but Quinn shakes his head.“It’s fine, it can’t hurt you. It’s changed, and it’s yours now. Nico made sure of that. It’s—it’s something you can wield now, as you would any knife you call your own.”Luca takes Breaker back somewhat reluctantly.“Hold on,” Nico hedges, suddenly filled with a very upsetting idea. “I’m not—is this—this isn’t the same situation as the Governor, is it? I haven’t accidentally stolen an Heirloom, have I?”“Of course not,” Luke says, sounding incredibly offended on Nico’s behalf. “You already turned its very nature on its head. It’s not the same as fucking stealing them.”“But I didn’t do anything to it,” Nico says, frustrated. “What power would I have over something like this?” “Volatile is an accurate but a largely understated description of the Riteknife,” Jack says suddenly, quietly. “Luke wasn’t joking when he said it could revolt against its beholder. You have to understand—this is a bloody Heirloom. Unlike some of the other weapons, the knife delights and actively takes part in the violence of this Continent. Its history, little as we know of it, is smeared in bloodshed and gore. Whether it was brought to Caskwater and lost there through the conflict in that prison is another story, and we might never truly know, but all that matters right now is one thing.”He hefts Lunesteele up, glowing moon-bright. They watch as Breaker responds in kind, illuminating in a deep, polished bronze glow, reminiscent of the burnished copper pots and pans from the kingdom’s bakehouse—always filled with delicious bread, always smelling of home. Jack exhales shakily, and turns to Nico.“I don’t know what you’ve done yet either, Neeks,” he says softly. “But none of us here can deny it. Luca brought it right into a battle stronghold amidst the brewing of a second war—the perfect conditions for it to thrive—and it did nothing. It didn’t even react. Its resonance now is closer to Lunesteele’s than its previous form. The Riteknife isn’t a riteknife anymore. That day in the prison, when you took hold of it—you’ve already remade it.”“Are you saying,” Luca says slowly, “That Nico—our very human Nico—has somehow gained the ability to change the make and essence of a god-forged weapon?”Jack's gaze never leaves Nico’s. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”The room explodes into another cacophony of noise. Voices collide and counter, going back and forth over the nuance of ownership, what it could possibly mean for them all, and how, exactly, could Nico have done it?And it’s a terrifying question Nico can’t even begin to fathom.Because, truly, how? How? Out of everything that could have happened, how did he manage such a feat, when there was living proof before them, in the wavering form of the Governor, that even the most zealous and fanatical of men couldn’t even achieve a fraction of what Nico did by an apparent accident?A memory surfaces from the depths of his mind, just a faint whisper at the back of his mind.
You could finally be a true match worthy for Jack.
Nico shakes himself, firmly, and takes a low, steadying breath. The debates around the room echo in the small space. The turmoil inside his chest threatened to rise like a high tide and knock him away. He feels lost, untethered, and he hates it.In the corner of his eye, he can see Jack lowering Lunesteele, moving that stunning illumination from the room. He turns to his husband, helpless questions on the tip of his tongue, only for the words to die on his lips when he realizes his beloved is already looking at him with an emotion so stark he almost backs away.“Jack?” he asks, wobbly, and Jack blinks those luminous silver eyes at him once before the colour shifts sharply away.“I’m here,” Jack replies, lifting a hand to cup Nico’s neck reassuringly.But Nico can still see the expression etched across his husband’s face, one he has never seen directed at him before.Fear.