A Brief Interlude in Windeen City

Basal 77th, 1042

River

The glow of the medium lux lights on the streets imitated the sun’s warmth and provided more than enough vitamin D, but it still was far different from the real thing that shone near-constantly back in Fern Helion.

It wasn’t home anymore, but once upon a time it had been. She’d lived in Lacus Mare when she was sixteen, leaving her home in Fern Helion far earlier than what was expected. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been close to her parents when they were still alive, but she had always longed for independence, and had been perhaps a bit reckless as a teenager, stubbornly insisting she was mature enough to handle being on her own. And her parents had expected her to be back within a month; but she hadn’t been– she had handled it, even if it had been hard. She had let her pride guide her to an entirely new country, and was too stubborn to fail.

She’d lived with a handful of other older teens and young adults in a too-small apartment for the first few months, until the group had dissolved thanks to drama– drama over relationships, of course; they were all young and charged up with hormones, River not being an exception to that. She’d moved in with a girl she’d been convinced she would marry after that, and had lived with that girl for two more years until they broke up over something that seemed silly in hindsight, but had felt world-crushing when she was nineteen.

She’d worked as a volunteer at Fillip Arabella’s temple after that, living alone for some time to wait for her heart to mend. She’d thrown herself into it whole-heartedly, and had fallen in love. Not with a person, but with Wonderworking. Before that, she’d just dabbled in a bit of it, but had never fully committed to taking classes. But violet Thauma? It opened up something in her mind, and suddenly a whole world of possibilities was before her. To this day she dyed the tips of her hair purple and incorporated it in her wardrobe as much as possible as tribute to that God who enchanted her heart with knowledge.

Every morning started with a cigar, a cup of tea, and a good book. The idea of ceasing to learn after one was done with school was one she’d believed as a teen, and she regretted that intensely; she had lost years she could have been using to learn.

All of the years with her ex-husband, too, when he had demeaned her and made her believe he was a better Wonderworker than she was, that she should just quit, give him children and let him take over her teaching business. He was a glory-chaser, and he had never really cared about her.

She had proved him wrong about who was more skilled with Thauma in a fit of self-defense, and not once had she felt a single drop of remorse over it. It was either going to be him or her that day, and she hadn’t been ready for it to be her. Fate had willed her a winner, and had evidently guided her to her destiny of teaching the most prolific people in the country Thauma after that, and even dropped a God on her figurative doorstep.

She never wanted to stop learning again, for any extended period of time. She was a teacher, yes, but she would never presume to know all there was to know.

Alouette’s presence at her side was enough proof that this world was full of wonderful unknowns and there was a new truth to be found in every single day. They were walking side by side, having left the others at a high rise hotel minutes before, promising to be back within a week's time, if not sooner.

They then made an interesting statement, making River pause to consider it before responding.

Alouette

“I just– I think Fillip would be a better fit for you,” they mumbled. They had tried to talk River into staying at the hotel for a night or two, trying to buy more time to talk to her about this. Talk her out of it, honestly. She hadn’t gone for it.

“Perhaps you’re right. But perhaps I’d like to take Refuge on because of my own personal reasons. I know her Thauma is the most difficult for most people to wield. I believe she might be the same way– the most difficult to wrangle into a vessel. I think you also believe the same thing, otherwise you wouldn’t be trying to stop me.”

“Well maybe you should listen to me if I’m trying to talk you out of it because you are my favorite human, and sometimes I know things,” Alouette argued. “I don’t mean to bring your age into it, but–”

River’s eyebrows raised, and they promptly snapped their jaw shut so fast their teeth hurt from the impact of it.

“Sorry,” they said very quickly after.

“Well, don’t stop trying on my behalf,” she laughed. “Alo, I am aware of my age. I am also aware it’s something to be grateful for. That I’ve been gifted so many years, and so much experience with them. That experience will be vital in helping Refuge, don’t you think? Last time you saw her, you likened her to a wraith; she needs my help if she’s that far gone.”

Yes, they had, because she had been wraith-like. Completely made of mist, just like how the other Gods had also been trapped in their elemental forms– but unlike the other two they’d found, she had been unresponsive, acting as if they hadn’t even been trying to talk to her. Her eyes were glazed over and when she had finally noticed them, she had snarled at them like a wild animal. Alouette hated to admit it, but they had fled, afraid of the other God. Refuge had always been the protector, not… Not someone who would harm others like that.

“I don’t want her to hurt you. Even if she has no idea what she’s doing,” Alouette said.

“So I won’t let myself get hurt,” she said, as if that was an easy thing to do. Maybe for her, it was. But– they couldn’t bear it if something did happen to her, and it was their fault… “Protecting me is not your job, Alo.”

“But it is! I’m supposed to help all of you. But you especially, who gave me not only a home, but food and care and lessons about this world, and just– just let me take your child’s body, even– you’ve given so much for me, of course I have to protect you!”

“No, you don’t. You can say it is your duty to help the Quasars, and the other Gods, and I will concede to you that much; but I need no protecting. I would go as far as to say you only feel that way because I’ve kept you too sheltered. I was long out of the nest by the time I was your age.”

“You wanted me to leave?” they asked with a pout.

“I did not, and you leaving would have put you in danger, seeing as you made a very notorious reputation for yourself. However, I could have fostered independence in you in other ways. Though, suppose you do end up back in the Upper Realm when you and the other Gods work out your problems, and I would expect you to visit.”

The idea of going back to the Upper Realm forever wasn’t one they liked. They liked the human realm. They liked how humans changed so quickly, they liked that there was a temple with pretty little offerings for them, and they liked that the mortals had a holiday dedicated to them where they would dress up and change themselves and gorge themselves on sweets and have parades– in comparison, the Upper Realm was painfully dull. Though they could remember very little details about it, they remembered how they had felt there– distinctly unhappy.

Maybe that was a clue to why Seiche and Remedy were mad at them? Maybe, even as unpleasant as their confines in this realm had been, they also hadn’t wanted to return to the Upper Realm? Of course, parts of them were still there. They had to be; the Gods could only visit this realm through the visages of their favored animals, or with their elemental forms, their real forms being too overwhelming for mortals to comprehend–

Alouette stopped in their tracks.

“Now, I didn’t mean to upset you, Birdie,” River sighed. “I just don’t want you worrying after me when it should be the opposite, since I’ve acted as your caretaker here.”

“No. That’s not…I remembered something,” they said with a small frown. “You’ve heard that we can– the Gods, that is– that we can speak through our animals, and through temples? I mean, you’ve seen me speak to birds, right?”

“Yes?” she said, tilting her head. “Where are you going with this?”

“It’s– they couldn’t hurt our real bodies. I knew they couldn’t; I knew, because they probably would have if they were able. Not just try to lock us all up, but kill us, if they really wanted us out of the way for good. But they only locked up our elemental forms in this realm. It makes perfect sense, then, that the Quasar’s soul would be used as a lock. A human soul to lock up five- intended to be six- God’s souls. The thing is–” their mind was working faster than their mouth could speak, “The thing is, I didn’t know what we could do against the Sol and Lunar Gods, if that was the case, if they couldn’t hurt us, then we couldn’t hurt them, it’d just be a game of trying to imprison each other if we were at odds; which I’m still not sure how they did that, but that’s a problem for another time. The point is, we can’t use our own Thauma or Divinity against each other. But Clover can use Thauma, because it’s a gift for mortals. Despite having a God in her, she can use it– any mortal could, theoretically–”

“Yes,” River agreed. “Though if you’re thinking what I think you are, you’ve also said their real forms would be incomprehensible and overwhelming to mortals, dear. So perhaps counting on mortals to slay a set of Gods for you isn’t the best course of action. Not to mention killing Gods would probably...have repercussions of some sort on the world, significant as the Sol and Lunar Gods are.”

“Oh…wait, yeah. Of course, I wouldn’t want any mortals to get hurt on our behalves,” they immediately deflated, realizing she was right. For just a moment, they’d really thought they had cracked the secret to winning this fight. “Then again! I am a pacifist, and would prefer to just talk to them and find out why they intended to lock us away in the first place! It would be nice to actually settle things that way! …Though, I was really surprised that ‘Cier would have taken so many mortals as vessels and hurt them like that in the tundra, just to try and speak to Aspen. …If they don’t want to help all mortals anymore, if they have some other goal, we might stay at odds, which would be sad…”

“‘Cier’?” River asked, her warm brown eyes wide. “Is that the Lunar God’s name?”

“...It’s a nickname. Their name is Glacier. Glacier Silverbell,” they blinked. They had forgotten it. So had mortals; all of the minor six had their names remembered, but the Sol and Lunar God’s names had been lost to time for the mortals in the dark age, somehow. Even Alouette hadn’t recalled their name until just now.

Names had power. A strange and old power. Maybe they had willed people and the other Gods to forget on purpose.

And maybe Alouette had more power than they realized, if they were able to hold that name, to remember it. Maybe they could also recall the Sol God’s name, too.

“Everyday,” River murmured.

“Hm?”

“I had been thinking about how everyday is a chance to learn something new, earlier. You never cease to surprise me, Birdie.” She smiled, and they glowed under the warm bask of her praise.

Perhaps they’d try to have a little more faith in themself to not mess anything up with Refuge, and a bit of trust in River, too. They owed her that much, for always being by their side and so supportive.

Clover

Clover had told everyone she’d meet them back at the hotel, that she was going to explore the city herself for a while, then go call her mom at the communication center, wherever it was. It would have been easy to stop and ask someone where it was; anyone who’d been in a city for a while could point you to one, generally, since they were the ever-important places to send both letters and parcels, and you could also access the digital databases or make e-calls from them. Back in Primrose Meadow their communication center had been so small it was in the same building as the library. She suspected a large city like Windeen had a bustling and large communication center in its own building.

She was currently sitting alone in a nice restaurant near the hotel, pushing around mushrooms on her plate of corncrake riesling. Mushrooms were a staple of any visit to Lacus Mare, where they thrived and were popular in almost any dish.

…Clover didn’t like them. She’d tried them before and knew that, but she’d felt obligated to get them anyway, since she was here. It wasn’t as if she was even with anyone right now, so it wasn’t as if she had to, but not getting them felt rude, somehow.

Dining alone was strange. In Primrose Meadow, she had a lot of friends; all of her neighbors were kind to her, and she was sought after by all of her former classmates for social events and outings, being known as a girl always down to party and socialize. She was everyone’s friend. She liked when things were lively and bright and loud; it was easier not to think about the bad things when music was loud enough to drown out her thoughts, and when she was being danced with so fast it made her dizzy the entire world became a pleasant blur. Her mom had never liked her going out so often, saying she should study for when she would take over the healer’s center after her.

Juniper had focused so much on studying and it hadn’t done him any good. Even when Clover’s marks were decent, they were never as good as his had been, so trying seemed entirely pointless. She was aware some people thought she was stupid, but she was at least smart enough to know her way around a social situation, and in her experience, being a people’s person got you further than being book-smart, anyway.

Kuiper had offered to come with her here, let Azaleon stay with Aspen, since he didn’t think Aspen actually needed two guards, but Clover actually thought some alone time would do her some good.

Besides, Aspen probably would’ve pitched a fit and insisted Kuiper stay with him instead if they split up. Not that she’d mind dining with any of them, but Aspen seemed so stubborn about being as difficult as possible anytime Azaleon was involved. And she thought Kuiper was probably offering more for Azaleon’s sake than he was actually concerned over Clover; which was sweet, in a way. But she was old enough not to need a minder.

Meanwhile, Clover had the opposite problem from Aspen’s issue; if he found Azaleon was trying too hard, her own brother was an avoidant runaway. When she was little, he was her role model, everything she wanted to be. But now, everytime her hand shot pain up her arm when she moved it wrong or it rained now, she thought of him with resentment, then immediately regretted it. She didn’t know his intentions, but guessed he’d been trying to help. But really, it was hard to really know, and even harder not to hold it against him.

The last day he’d been home was a blur. Alouette had said that much Thauma to hide the mark should’ve killed her. She couldn’t even recall him using Thauma on her; she remembered going into their dad’s old office, him pressing her hand into the sink to wash paint off her hand, then… then her next memory was her mother freaking out the next day, asking where Juniper was. It had been late into the day by then. They had both assumed he’d gone to his part time job early in the morning, like he tended to… but he hadn’t. That had been when Clover had found the unusually long black feather near Juniper’s window.

That week, her arm had started aching, but she hadn’t really prioritized it at the time, not until the point where it became unbearable. She remembered, vaguely, talking to a detective at that time, talking to people in town who kept prodding her with questions, and her school tutors looking at her with pity. She remembered catching her aunt yelling at her mom one day that month when she’d gotten home from her classes, but she was too young to know what they’d been arguing over. Now, she could take a guess, since she ended up staying with Aunt Ivy for a while. She had gently explained to Clover that her mom was getting help because she was ‘sick’; Clover had been confused at the time– her mother was a healer, why would she need another healer to help her if she was sick?

Her aunt hadn’t been able to let her stay with her forever, and of course, Clover had wanted to go back to her own mom, especially as a kid. But…things had shifted when she got back.

Clover felt guilty for not calling her yet. For being almost relieved at being able to breathe easier after leaving home. Finding Juniper would mean she would have to go back. Juniper leaving in the first place was what made things get so bad. But she’d been so young then, maybe things had been bad before that, after their dad had passed. She’d never been able to notice if they had, since Juniper had always been the one caring for her and in a way, had been shielding her. But he had been a teenager at the time, also busy with his own affairs, and he always threw himself into his part time job. He hadn’t been shy about the fact he wanted to leave to go to the capital as soon as he was able, either. Maybe he really didn’t want to come back.

She couldn’t bear the thought that her mom might believe both of her children wanted to abandon her, though, something she lamented often and loudly when Clover had first proposed the idea of going on a trip to find Juniper. Clover had insisted she’d be back, it’d just be for a little while; that the extra Thauma training would come in handy when she returned.

She also couldn’t bear the idea of telling her mother the full truth, not yet; she would spiral if she knew Clover wasn’t at River’s and was instead in Lacus Mare. She’d spent the dinner alone thinking of what she could say to explain the way her eyes looked now. She could ask to do a voice-only e-call and tell her mother their video function was down at the moment.

She would say she was ‘working hard everyday, and that everything was fine, of course she hadn’t found Alouette, she’d never talk to someone so dangerous, she’d leave that to River, and yes, she met the prince, it’s so funny how short he is in person, yes, I minded my manners in front of him, though, don’t worry, Mom, I’ll be back soon,’…

Clover left the restaurant to call her mother after thanking the waiter and asking him to send compliments to the chef, all of her mushrooms eaten.

Aspen

There was a zoo in Windeen City, not a small one, either.

He realized it was their jobs to follow him or whatever, but he’d talked Kuiper and Azaleon into keeping a distance, and with the creatures holding his focus, it was very easy to imagine he was alone. Alone in a city far, far away from Dewmore.

He liked the idea, and for the first time in a long time, he let himself pretend. Pretend not to have any responsibilities or duties, pretend he didn’t have to pen a letter to his father in two days on schedule, pretend he never had to return to the castle. With a cloak and gloves, no one recognized him here either, like they might have been more inclined to in Fern Helion. The dark sky and the neon-lit city with its high rise buildings felt right in a way Fern Helion never had.

He wondered if it was because he was the Lunar God’s champion and this was their domain, and that thought soured his little fantasy immediately. Not for the first time he wondered if he should’ve taken Alouette up on that threat to turn him into a toad. It was sounding more and more appealing by the day.

He was standing in front of the flying squirrel display, watching the animals play. The castle had its fair share of both livestock and fresh game brought up from Oakheart’s large forest just south of Dewmore, but he’d never been allowed a pet, and visits to zoos, farms, or stables wasn’t seen as a viable lesson, so he was never allowed.

He was barely allowed his garden; emerald Thauma of course had been mandatory to learn for the sake of having a complete education about all of the Thauma hues, but…it was seen as a skill he wouldn’t need to foster very much. Useless in both assisting him at the Quasar Ceremony and assisting him with ruling the country after that. After all, what sort of king had time to grow plants? That was a job left to farmers who could dedicate their entire lives to such a thing, not a hobby. His own garden was a pitifully small plot in the royal greenhouse, full of flowers with no real uses except to look pretty, but it was his. He hoped the royal gardeners were taking care of it in his absence.

If it were up to him, he might like to have a unicorn or two. Though they were native to Lacus Mare, so keeping them in Fern Helion might prove difficult. They weren’t fond of sunlight, so they’d have to make some kind of shaded farm…and he didn’t expect his father would want to throw resources at such a thing. Besides that…they were equidae, and the Lunar God favored every member of that family of animals. It wouldn’t do for him to have a pet that wasn’t an ursidae like the Sol God favored, if any pets had been allowed.

His mother was allowed to have a domesticated hemicyon, more often known as a miniature housebear; sure, it was cute in a way, he supposed, but Aspen wasn’t overly fond of the way it huffed and snorted and was messy when eating its berries and fish– and the way she treated it as an accessory and let the castle staff care after it for her when she didn’t want to squeeze it into little outfits that coordinated with her own costumes. He preferred the elegance of a unicorn, sleek and wild, to any breed of housebears.

“Do either of you have pets? Or–I suppose I should be asking if your families had pets, since I’m aware no animals are allowed in the guard’s quarters,” Aspen noted, looking over at Kuiper and Azaleon. They both looked surprised he had spoken to them first; they had seemed absorbed in their own little conversation up until now.

“My mothers had a pasture full of marshbuck, a small pond of fish, and a few chinchillas. I have two toy bearcats at their house.” Kuiper answered.

“I…did live at the inn where my mother worked, so I wasn’t allowed any because it probably wouldn’t have been sanitary. The most I ever got to tend to animals was at Kuiper’s,” Azaleon said, sounding apologetic. Aspen hummed, turning back to the animals.

“And your mothers do that for a living or something, Kuiper? Tend animals?”

“No; one of them is a dental-healer’s assistant, and my other mother is a clerk at the local counseling center. They just both like animals.”

“You have two toy bearcats…so you like animals like they do, I take it?”

“I like bearcats. They’re soft and have kind eyes. Here, I have pictures,” he said, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling his wallet out.

“Wh– you just carry around pictures of them?” Aspen asked. And– oh, they did look soft, with round fluffy cheeks with long whiskers and big paws… the picture looked like someone was holding the two animals, and Aspen realized it was a younger Azaleon awkwardly trying to hold both bearcats at once. He was grinning and had a missing tooth that would’ve since been fixed; Aspen vaguely wondered if one of Kuiper’s moms had been the one to fix it, if her job was a dental-healer’s assistant. Aspen had already figured the two of them had known each other for a while, if Kuiper knew what Azaleon’s teen years were like, and if Azaleon had trusted him enough to let him in on his heritage, but the picture really made it sink in.

“They’re his babies,” Azaleon said fondly, “We’d have a house full of them if it was up to him.”

“…They probably miss me, honestly. ” Kuiper sighed, putting the photo away. Aspen wondered if Kuiper’s pets really could ‘miss’ him; did they even have that long of a memory? They looked completely devoid of thought, one of their tongues had even been sticking out a little bit, as if it was drooling.

“Aren’t they smelly? I’ve heard they have a musk to them.” Aspen asked.

“Not if you know how to care for them, diet and which products to wash them with. If you’re so curious, we alternate which of our families we see at Harvestfest, and this year we would be going to my family’s. With this job we weren’t sure if we could visit them, but if you’re with us, we’ll still technically be ‘guarding’ you, right?” Kuiper said with a shrug.

“Of course I can’t do that; I don’t have time for frivolous trips out into some bumpkin coast town,” Aspen huffed out too quickly. “Honestly, I have other duties, especially around Harvestfest. You should have known this job would come with sacrifices, too. You can quit at any time, if going without seeing your stinking rat babies is too much of a strain.”

“No, we can just e-call them.” Kuiper said flatly. “We already expected you to say no, anyway.”

Well…good. They were starting to be more realistic. That was good, and not disappointing in any way. He expected Azaleon to insist, but he didn’t, staying cautiously quiet.

“By the way, Your H- er, Aspen? There’s a petting zoo in the left wing of this building. I saw it advertised on the map at the entrance,” Azaleon said a little too innocently. “Though maybe you don’t want to do that. After all, I think they have rats, and you sound like you don’t like rats? Oh, and those tiny little hedgehogs, with all of those quills, they’d probably be unpleasant to hold…”

“Don't presume what I would or wouldn’t like. In the first place, it’s not a matter of liking or disliking; father would be cross with me if he found out I turned down a learning opportunity. So I will soldier through that, if I must, while we’re here. Just to learn about their fauna,” Aspen said, turning away from the two of them, pretending not to see Azaleon shooting Kuiper a too smug little grin.

Let them think what they wanted. Aspen had already forgotten they were with him by the time they actually got to the petting zoo in favor of rushing over to the bunnies there. Undignified, maybe, but it wasn’t like anyone knew him here anyway, right? He could afford a little ignoble behavior from time to time.

Azaleon

Aspen had decided he wanted to be alone in his hotel room to sleep after exhausting himself at the zoo. Azaleon was glad he’d had fun, though he’d barely spoken to them beyond a few sentences the entire time. Things were still tense between the two of them, but in public he at least seemed to restrain himself to silence more than cursing and yelling at him.

Azaleon’s and Kuiper’s shared room was on the other side of Aspen’s, so they could hear if anything happened. It felt safe enough to let him have this much independence, if only because he didn’t want to smother Aspen too much. And Aspen did have a point– as long as he had that Cachet on his hand, he couldn’t die. They were mostly there to make sure he didn’t get kidnapped, and Azaleon knew if something like that was to happen, Aspen would be very vocal and get their attention. Probably by trying to cuss his kidnappers out.

He flopped on the bed with Kuiper, who immediately reached out and started petting his hair. He let out a muffled laugh against the pillow. Kuiper had a thing for soft textures, and always moved to pet him when they were alone. It was so cute, and had never failed to amuse him.

“You doing okay with Seiche?” Kuiper asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Azaleon asked, lifting his head off the pillow so he could actually talk. He propped himself on his elbows while Kuiper reached over to the nightstand, grabbing his reading glasses and the latest book in his collection, one about the dark age domestication of housebears he’d picked up from the zoo’s gift shop.

“You got sick on the ferry. You’ve never had that problem before, so I thought something might have been wrong.”

Ah, yes, ‘he’ had gotten sea-sick. It had been strange, feeling what someone else was feeling. He and Kuiper had visited the Atlas Islands together before, and like Kuiper had said, it had really never been an issue he’d dealt with. So it had been strange to walk onto the ferry and have been immediately struck with a violent nausea that sent him straight to the nearest restroom to throw up his breakfast.

It had dawned on him fairly quickly that it was Seiche’s influence. Because they were over the open water of the Vega River that snaked its way between Fern Helion and Lacus Mare and emptied out into the seas on either side of the countries. …Seiche was supposed to embody the element of water, so it had been a shocking revelation that the God could be afraid of it. No…more likely, he was afraid of being trapped under the sea again. But the moment he had that thought, Seiche had sent a hot flare of anger through him, so severe it left him laid up in a random storage closet with a fever.

The God was afraid and sensitive about it. Azaleon had spent the entire trip borderline delirious with such a high fever, trying to talk Seiche out of boiling him from the inside, apologizing profusely for even thinking to imply he was scared of anything.

…Even though he was fairly sure he was right.

Kuiper had found him face down on the cool floor of the storage closet and had sat beside him, patting his hair and asking if he was okay. Azaleon still wasn’t entirely sure if it had been he or Seiche that had bit out that they were fine, please leave them alone–

And Kuiper had agreed, leaving them to suffer. Kuiper had no way of knowing they were actually sick; he had probably just assumed Azaleon was having some sort of sensory-overload moment, like Kuiper did sometimes, and had needed a quiet space to just be alone for a while. He had been respecting Azaleon’s space like a good partner. Azaleon preferred that, honestly; and Kuiper could stay on the deck and keep an eye on the prince while he was training with River, at the time while Azaleon was laid out. And he hated being sick in front of anyone. Which was silly– he and Kuiper had taken care of each other plenty over the years; but it still left him embarrassed to be vulnerable for some reason.

Maybe he and Seiche weren’t so different in that way. Because when he’d shared those feelings with the God, memories of shame over showing weakness, the fever had started to go down, his body slowly stopped shaking and sweating. And by that point, the ferry was about to arrive.

He hoped Clover was managing Remedy better than he was Seiche; Remedy was both the God of healing and of illness, and if Seiche was able to make him so ill without having domain over it, he didn’t want to think about what Remedy could do to Clover if they had a disagreement.

“It’s fine now. If I didn’t think I could handle it, I’d let you know,” Azaleon said. “And…I know I’ve said it a dozen times, but I really am sorry I didn’t talk to you about. You know. Hosting him.”

“Yes. I could imagine it would be hard to ask me if I’d be okay with you having another man inside of you.”

“...Gods, why would you say it like that, that’s awful,” Azaleon groaned. Kuiper’s lips pulled into the smallest of smiles. Oh, the jerk had been sitting on that one. If he was joking, that was a sign he wasn’t so mad about it anymore, at least. Which was nice; Azaleon liked to spar with Kuiper on occasion so he wouldn’t get rusty, but never liked to actually fight. This was the first major fight they’d had since…well, since about four or five years ago, when Azaleon had told Kuiper he wanted to try and go work at the castle and had asked Kuiper to come with him.

They had worked that out, and they had worked this out. During the heat of the moment, Kuiper had said they should tell Alouette to remove the God, and Seiche had said if they tried, that if Azaleon went back on his word he’d kill him before they could get him out– taking him down with the God.

Azaleon had absolutely no doubt Seiche could; his domain was over water, he could probably just suck all of it out of Azaleon’s body in an instant, or drown him in his own fluids, or something equally horrific. But Azaleon also had no intention of going to Alouette and asking for the God to be removed; that had been Kuiper’s idea. Azaleon, despite the God’s obviously aggressive temperament, still held him above any other Gods for a reason.

He laid his head on Kuiper’s shoulder, trying to perch on him in a way that didn’t impede his partner from moving his hands to flip the pages of his book.

“I still think we can talk Aspen into coming with us to your moms’ house for Harvestfest,” he mumbled.

“You agreed we would actually quit if I have to go a full year without seeing Butternut and Maple. There are laws against not giving us a vacation, you know,” Kuiper said, not looking away from the book.

“Who’s gonna enforce those against him?” Azaleon laughed. Seiche’s voice in the back of his mind said ‘I will, let me,’ and Azaleon snorted. “You’re going to get violent with a seventeen year old over pets of all things? No, there are some people you can’t even joke about that for, believe me. I don’t want you saying things like that about Aspen. Kuiper either, for that matter.”

Kuiper sat his book down on his lap and sighed.

“If you’re going to talk to the voice inside your head and not let me get through this book tonight, let me talk to him, too.”

“...Wait, really?”

“Yes. If you’re stuck with him, I am too, and it sounds like he’s saying something vaguely threatening. I just want to talk. I won’t get mad at him again.”

“...Okay,” Azaleon said. “Seiche, go ahead, you can speak through me.”

Kuiper

The bedside lamp had been the only light in the room before he’d asked Azaleon to let him speak to Seiche. The blue light that glowed could only be described as eerie. It was a more ambient glow while Azaleon was fully in control, focused only in the dark of his pupil and making the rest of his eye slightly teal, but it seemed like when Seiche was speaking, the entire pupil and iris went cobalt.

It was a shame it was his eyes that were the tell. Kuiper hated eye contact on even his best days; but Azaleon’s eyes were some he could tolerate looking at without feeling too awkward.

He loved Azaleon’s eyes; he loved when they were brown from using gold Thauma, warm and comforting, and he loved when the gold Thauma would run low when it was just the two of them at the end of the day, and they’d fade into that intense forest green. Both were nice.

The blue was cold like the sea. Kuiper found he didn’t like it much at all.

The thing staring back at him was assuredly not Azaleon. Nevermind the fact Seiche was wearing his face, complete with his smiling eyes and scars and freckles, nevermind the fact when he spoke it was just as gentle and soft as Azaleon’s voice was; the damn eyes gave everything away.

“Well? You wanted to speak with me?” Seiche hadn’t moved from where Azaleon had laid himself on Kuiper’s shoulder, and looked far too pleased to be in the crook of his neck, all cozy and comfortable there.

“We need to buy you sunglasses or something. I get why Alouette wears those shades in public now.”

Seiche scowled. “I don’t plan on wearing those things. Their taste is awful.”

“Luckily they do come in different styles.” Kuiper moved to pet Azaleon’s hair without thinking about it after hearing such a grouchy tone from his mouth, and Seiche froze under the touch. Kuiper froze, too, realizing he was petting the God of War. He slowly moved his hand back down. “...Sorry, habit.”

“It’s…understandable. This is very strange for me, too.”

“Are you overwhelmed at all? Going from the bottom of the sea where I imagine it’s dark and the sound is muffled, to such a bustling, bright city can’t be easy.”

“I thrive in places like this. I have never been ‘overwhelmed’ because I do not have mortal weaknesses,” Seiche spat.

“Just checking. I get overwhelmed in places like this, sometimes, but I’m fine if I bring my ear plugs and have Azaleon with me.”

“You just told me your weaknesses, so maybe you’d like to think twice before doing that, in the future. You know what my domain is. And Azaleon seems to want me to hold back on stirring up conflict with you and Aspen. You’re making it hard when you give me ammo so freely.”

“No. I don’t see any point in that. I tell Azaleon everything; you’d overhear and figure that out at some point anyway, wouldn’t you?” Kuiper asked. “There’s not a lot you can try to make us fight over that we haven’t already at some point. We’ve gotten good at communication. We’ve had to.”

Seiche seemed to consider this, going very quiet.

Kuiper might have mistaken the God for having fallen asleep if he didn't speak a few minutes later, just when Kuiper tried to pick up his book again.

“Why do you all refer to Ash as ‘Alouette’?”

“Oh, that. They tried to kidnap His Highness about a dozen times. They were never caught, so no one knew who they were…Alouette is the placeholder name the media gave them; it’s something like an alias, or a sobriquet…?”

Kuiper wasn’t sure if he would understand what that was. His impression of the God was that him being the God of War meant he was more about brawns than brains. Admittedly…Azaleon was, too– but Azaleon listened to Kuiper when he needed to talk at length about niche topics, and was always a good listener; and Kuiper liked Azaleon for other reasons, intelligence aside.

But Seiche nodded as if he understood.

“What does it mean, though?”

“Er…it’s not a very nice nickname. It’s from a song about plucking a bird’s wings off. It’s more or less implying that when Alouette gets caught the royal guard squad will make sure they can’t fly away again. I would never do that, but…yes, that’s where it comes from. Alouette, for whatever reason, believes it’s a nice little nickname from us humans, and prefers it because of that, so I’m just respecting their wishes by calling them that. I’ve heard River shorten it to Alo, if that makes it any better.”

“...It really, really does not,” Seiche muttered. “They’ve gotten very comfortable among humans. If any of you threatened to pluck me, I would not let it turn into a silly little moniker.”

“You look very comfortable.” Kuiper pointed out.

Seiche looked up at him, Azaleon’s eyes too sharp. “You are speaking to me too boldly.”

“You’re the one laying on me. And you’re in my partner. You’re very much the intruder in this situation, if you want to talk about boldness.”

“Well, you are very muscular, and this body is weary. And it is making Azaleon mad, which is tribute enough to satiate me for now. I will hand him his body back now, since I’ve grown tired of you.”

“Okay, good night.” Kuiper felt his cheeks flush. Why had he told the God ‘good night’ like he was tucking him in or something? That was embarrassing. It was another habit, hard to break when speaking to Azaleon. Azaleon blinked, his eyes significantly less blue, but still tinged with it in the center.

“Well. Sorry he was so rude,” Azaleon huffed. “...You know, if you..if Alouette asks you to host another God, this would get even more complicated…don’t feel obligated.”

“River’s taking Refuge on. That only leaves Fillip Arabella and Frond Peter, doesn’t it? I don’t know how willing either of them would be to accept me as a host. I’ve used both of their hues of Thauma, but not regularly.” He wasn’t licensed for either, but had used emerald Thauma to help his mothers with their garden; he had never had much of a knack for it. Violet was his choice if he had to pick any hue, but again, it wasn’t regular enough for him to consider himself good at it.

He respected Fillip the most, though. She was the patron God of Art and Sciences, and, well, he devoured books and trivia, and liked knowing things…but he didn’t exactly create any art or works of his own, so he had to assume she wouldn’t prefer him over someone else who did.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Because by the time we find one of them, there’ll just be one more to find and free. Then Alouette can take care of this whole business and leave us out of it.”

“You really think it’ll be that simple?”

When Kuiper looked down, he realized by the glow of his eyes that it was Seiche that had asked that with a small grim smile. When he blinked, Azaleon was back in control, looking just as concerned as Kuiper felt.

The God didn’t bother elaborating, and both Kuiper and Azaleon were too apprehensive to ask further questions. They fell asleep shortly after whispering their good nights to each other.