face the weather | lucie, danaë & mazuku

He stood to attention when Danaë left the room, feathers bristling on end as he watched her sign to him, ears flicking back as she left with her curt statement.

Right. He should have expected it, really.

He didn’t reply- what was there to say?- and merely took a breath, mentally bracing himself as he nosed the curtain aside, stepping into the small room Lucie was residing in. He tried to push Danaë from his mind, her blurry eyes, her chilling silence, focus zeroing in on Lucie as his eyes caught sight of her.

She was smaller then he’d expected, somehow, curled up with her long legs out of sight, ears nervously twitching and reacting to every small sound. He expected he was imagining it, but he thought she looked pale, somehow, and his heart beat faster in his throat as he stepped quietly closer, sinking down to lay on his stomach just in front of her, down at her level.

“Hey, kiddo.” He murmured, smoothing back her hair with his teke, eyes flickering over her, trying and failing to hide his anxious need to see that she was all right. “How you feelin’?”

He stiffened in alarm when she tried to get up, wing lifted as if that could catch her as she tumbled back down into the sheets with a wobbly sigh. His wing stayed outstretched even as he laid with her, hovering awkwardly in the air as, unseen by the filly, his face crumpled.

His wing curled softly around her small frame, leaning his head down to lay gingerly against her back. For a minute he just lay there with her, eyes pinched shut, listening to the rattle of her breath, the words that pierced through his heart like arrows.

Gods, he had missed her. All of his reasons fell away from him in the face of her small voice, her honest words cutting straight to his core.

“I never forgot about you,” He said quietly. “I thought about you every day.” His wing tightened over her, pressing his face into her damp hair, swallowing hard as for a moment he just breathed her in, focusing on steadying his breathing, aware of every trembling exhale and hoping she didn’t notice.

“I missed you too, little light.” He said, barely audible, spoken against her hair. “I’m sorry I was gone so long. I’ve been looking for you for a long time, you know.” He told her softly, teke gently threading through her mane, untangling as he went, smoothing it down. His eyes stayed closed, some part of him distantly afraid that if he opened them again, she would be gone.

“I’m glad you were there,” He said lowly, soundless memories replaying in his mind’s eye, beating against the barrier, his throat aching with phantom screams. “It wasn’t safe anywhere else.” His heart ached as she casually admitted to looking for him, and he felt a flash of gratitude that she was watched so closely. What trouble could she have gotten into, looking for him?



He bore new scars, from his time in Sedo during the tail end of the war. He had gotten hurt, time and time again, and he had cared little at the time but now it felt like a failure to Lucie, somehow. She assumed he’d been safe, and he had been anything but. He’d been that intentionally. He could never tell her he’d walked into danger, thrown himself head first with wild abandon, a thirst for vengeance and the need to feel something that wasn’t pain.

“I was so worried about you both,” He whispered after a long pause, and then he hesitated, lifting his head up off her, looking down towards her. His eyes were soft, sad, searching her face.

“Can you keep a secret, Luce?”

She was warming up against him, nuzzling trustingly into his chest feathers like he’d ever been deserving of that trust, like she shouldn’t hate him. His heart ached, too full of love and pain to know what to do with itself, and he couldn’t quite keep himself from giving the top of her head a small brush with his muzzle, lips flapping teasingly at her hair.

“Good, because your mom would laugh at me,” He rumbled, teke glowing as he rifled through his saddlebags. He was still wearing them, hadn’t bothered taking off anything yet, his teke reaching through his small collection of items before finally pulling out the thing he was seeking.

He held it out towards Lucie for her to examine, swirling in his teke as it turned back and forth gently. It was a golden bell, carefully polished and cleaned but the color had been dulled, the metal warped from heat, misshapen but still holding the vague form of a bell.

“I came to Osulas, first.” He told Lucie quietly. “I searched the wreckage. All I found was this,” He breathed slowly, carefully, forcing himself to not remember, even as ash gathered in the back of his throat. He was almost used to it by now.

“I’ve had it for months. And whenever I missed you guys, I’d take it out and ring it.” He gave it a gentle shake. It didn’t ring right, the sound mostly a tinny clink, a sad imitation for the clear ring of Danaë’s “voice.” But it had been all he’d had, for a while.

“Sappy, right?” He chuckled. “Don’t tell your mom. She’ll make fun of me.”

He huffed a laugh, mouth brushing the top of her head again, unable to stop touching her, greedy for the contact, the proof she was alive here with him.

“I’m sure she would,” He agreed. “But you’re right. I’m being silly,” He said, mussing her forelock. “Maybe she wouldn’t laugh at me.” And maybe she would. Or maybe it would be worse. He might never know, he doubted he’d ever have the courage to tell her. It was a little complex for Lucie to understand, he supposed.

“I just wanted to show you, how I was thinking of you,” He explained softly, something in his heart twisting at the little nuzzle she gave the bell. “How I thought about you two every day.” He tucked it back into his saddlebags with a muted clink, closing them as he settled back against her, tucking her blankets more securely around her.

“You should get some rest, little light.” He murmured, laying his head back against her. “You’ve had a hard day.”

The whispered admission was the final straw, his eyes pinching shut as he took in a slow, wavering breath. He had no tears left to give, he’d thought that for years, but something was burning his throat, behind his eyes, words he couldn’t say. His teke glowed as he nuzzled into her, swaddling her up in her sheets.

It took all his years of experience, to carefully slide out from under her a few minutes later. He desperately wanted to stay, to be greedy and draw this time with her out as long as he could, but he knew he had to speak with Danaë. He tucked her in, rising up silently, careful to disturb her as little as possible before he leaned down, brushing a soft kiss at the top of her head.

He hated leaving her again. He hoped she could forgive him once more.

He paused at the hanging sheet, eyes flickering over her a long moment before he took a long breath, nosing it aside to step out-

- And come face to face with Danaë.

He froze, ears pinning back in surprise as he just stared at her. He had no idea how long she’d been there, what she had heard, but the wetness on her face made something in him twist.

“...Hey.” He said, clearing his throat as he unconsciously brushed back his fraying braid of hair with his wing, the beads that marked him as hers. Matching the bracelet at his leg, the one Lucie had helped make years past.

“Uh… are you feeling…. Better?” His ears twitched, eyes darting away from her face.

Another silent sob wracked her shivering frame, and his eyes widened, taking a tentative step closer, able to feel the heat radiating off of her. She hadn’t answered his question, and the way she shook made him wonder if she was all right to even stand.

I’m sorry.

For what? What on earth did she have to apologize for?

“Hey. Hey. Look at me.” He spoke softly, reaching out and just barely touching the tip of a primary to her chin. He pulled it back, feathers shaking out as he gestured.

What are you sorry for? He signed, trying to catch her tear filled, burning eyes. Far, far from the first time, he wished he could hear her thoughts, not wait for a painful looking sign.

I’m the one who should be apologizing. He added, his signs a little slower, more careful this time. He already had said he was sorry, at the river, but he knew he had to say it a thousand more times before he could even begin to show how sorry he really was. His face was pained as he looked at her, the barest hint of water at his lashes, leftover from Lucie’s unintentionally cutting words.

His face fell as her body was wracked by sobs, shaking with fever and pain. Had the use of her blessing done this to her? Was something else wrong? Was she sick? Questions whirled in his mind, unasked, his face pained as he took another, cautious step closer.

“You should be angry at me,” He said quietly. “I’d think you were nuts if you weren’t, dreamer.” He gave her a small, sad smile. Dreamer. The name fell from his lips so easily, back again, like muscle memory. She was, and always would be, his dreamer.

Her knees buckled and his eyes flew wide, diving forward to catch her, wing cradling her head and neck as his teke glowed, supporting her.

“Shit, fuck- should I go get Vesta?” He asked, feathers bristling, agitated and electrified from holding her. “C’mon, you should lay down. D’you wanna lay with Lucie?” He kept it carefully to yes or no questions, but his eyes were wide and scared as he felt the fever burning off of her, his gaze darting nervously over her as she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

He supported her with his wing and teke as she struggled to lay down, frown deepening when she shook her head- he could read her well enough to know she didn’t want help, and he could guess that she didn’t want Lucie to see her this way.



Whatever “this way” was.



She tilted slightly into his touch, just enough to break his heart, reminding him of the way Lucie nuzzled into his feathers. Still trusting, somehow.



“You’re freezing,” He murmured, concern coloring his tone. He moved carefully, each movement easily predicted, slow and steady as he tucked his legs down underneath him, gently propping her against him. His wing fluttered out and settled over her, feather light but broad enough to cover her.



He barely dared to breathe, coming flush to her chilled, damp fur. Every hair on his body stood on end, all his nerves pointed towards the golden mare pressed at his side.



“I know you’ll bite me if this isn’t ok.” He said, very quietly. It was meant halfway as a joke, but his voice came out sounding smaller then he meant it to.



He was flashing back, remembering being younger, scared, curling at Danaë’s side in a blind, panicked attempt to soothe her. Remembered Lucie’s first tiny wail, impossibly large eyes blinking at the world for the very first time.



He was just as scared now, a tremor running through the wing laid over Danaë, feathers quivering with a soft rustle.



“It’s cheating, to tell you anything when you can’t sign,” He whispered into the quiet, voice nearly swallowed by the distant grumble of thunder, rain drumming on the tent roof like distant hooves. The sounds all seemed very far away, suddenly. It was suddenly, achingly quiet, and all he could hear was his own heart beating loud in his ears, blood roaring through his veins like the flooded river.



“So send me away, if you want. But…” His jaw worked, swallowing thickly as he slowly dropped his head down to lean against her neck, eyes screwed shut as he pressed his face into her hair.



“I’m glad you’re alive.” He rasped, a single tear trickling down, mingling with the rainwater in her curls.

She relaxed slowly against him, and he breathed out with her, but it came out in a shuddering gasp, his eyes squeezed shut as he buried his face against her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wept, maybe some angry, hopeless tears at the barrier of the Oasis, but he had never shed a tear in front of Danaë.

It fought him, clawing for release he denied, trembling hard against her as he held onto her tightly as she slept, silently suffocating under the weight of everything that happened that day, Lucie nearly drowning, missing him every day, endless memories of days and days and days walking through deserts crawling with Aodhians out for his blood. A bell that couldn’t ring, footprints in ash, smoke between his teeth, feathers and glass falling in a rain shower.

Snow, falling silently around him, prints slowly vanishing, a scream that went unanswered.

He’d slipped effortlessly into slumber after her, shivering in nightmares, cold water closing overhead and drifting snow and ash below as he fell.

And in the distance, a lighthouse burning, a light kept on, waiting.