Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2022-02-20
Updated:
2024-02-26
Words:
449,763
Chapters:
86/?
Comments:
518
Kudos:
118
Bookmarks:
8
Hits:
3,465

Lily and Honeysuckle

Chapter 48

Summary:

Knighthood, gifts, and lost

Notes:

This chapter was heading towards 7k worlds long, and I would like to keep some sanity if I have any left, so I'm gonna chop it and I present to you 4.2k instead. Hope you don't mind, next chapter will be alot more action packed and other such nonsense, I promise.
Who's ready for more character building because I aaaaaammmmm!
No warnings for this one, I don't think, there's just alot of talking for the most part. So I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Text

This group of trainees are very promising. They take direction well, and most of them are quick to learn. Damien has his eye on a few of them that could probably be commanders of the citizen forces, train their own groups to fight instead of just the knights. He makes sure to write down their names for commendation atleast. 

 

The mayor is proving to be an exceptional fighter. It has only been a little over a week and his technique is flawless. He is Orson the Studious after all, Damien has no doubt that the man has studied and studied late into the nights to perfect his stances. The young knight rather admires the mayor and his dedication. 

 

As Damien observes the training, he hears something from the branches of the tree that surround the courtyard. A rustling of leaves, a twig snapping. He goes on high alert, hand gripping the blade at his side, his bow is on the other side of the yard. He doesn't want to raise alarm if it's just some poor beast swinging through the trees. But they are at war, and in the possibility that it is a monster, he must act quickly. 

 

He moves to the branches quietly, ears and eyes straining for any sign of whatever it is. There, another shuffling in the leaves, he definitely heard it this time. Slow, even breaths, Damien, do not lose your tranquility now… He reaches the spot, hand gripping the blade tight, and his hand slowly reaches out to part the branches… There's another rustle and Damien quickly parts the leaves to see–

 

A young familiar boy looking up at him, startled. 

 

Damien sighs in relief, shoulders sinking as he lowers his blade. "Young Darius," he begins to laugh. "Oh, Saints above, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

 

"Sorry…" the boy says quietly, curled up in a tiny space between some larger branches. 

 

"What on earth are you doing in there, young sir? It's dangerous to be out alone right now, especially for the mayor's son," Damien asks, sheathing his blade and parting the branches more to talk to the boy better. 

 

"I… I wanted to see the knights…" Darius looks down, looking shy and ashamed. 

 

Damien half smiles, Saints, he remembers when the parades marched through the streets when he was younger. He would climb to a balcony on the temple or on a rooftop and strain to see the knights that inspired him so… He crouches down, a hand on his knee, to get a bit closer to the boy's level. 

 

"I am certain you would have a better view if you sat over on the fountain's edge," he suggests. 

 

Darius shrinks back and shakes his head. "Papa will be mad if he sees me, I'm supposed to be at home where it's safe…"

 

"Well, he may be upset that you snuck off, yes," Damien nods. "But you are safer here than anywhere else in the city, with the Citadel's finest knights all here to protect you, should anything happen. Your father is among our best fighters already, and you can be certain he'll keep you safe."

 

Darius hesitates, staring up at the young knight for a long moment before he nods. Damien offers the boy his hand and helps him stand, bringing him out of the foliage. The boy still looks nervous, but Damien smiles reassuringly as he leads the boy to sit at the fountain. Mayor Orson sees his son and nods to Damien, but does not break his stride in his training stances. Damien sits with Darius, chuckling softly at the boy's wide eyed and fascinated expression. 

 

"...Is Papa going to be a knight?" Darius asks. 

 

"Ah…" Damien ponders for a moment. "Well, I suppose he could be if he wanted to. But he does have his job as the mayor, you know, that in it of itself is quite the responsibility. He has a whole city to look after, he might not be able to go out adventuring with the other knights."

 

"Have you been on adventures?" Darius manages to pull his wide gaze away from the training to look up at the poet. 

 

"I have been on a few, yes," Damien chuckles. "Though I would say they were not as exciting as some of the other Knight's tales, I have only been a knight for a short time."

 

"What monsters have you slain?" The boy asks eagerly, his eyes are so bright. 

 

Damien can't help himself, he really is just a natural storyteller. He begins telling the boy about his fight with the Scorpion Queen, the squires back at the Citadel had been enraptured by the tale. Darius is the same, clinging to the stone of the fountain as he listens. His enthusiasm is endless, bouncing in his seat and asking what happens next every other phrase. Damien doesn't even mind, the boy is utterly endearing. He's wrapping up his tale when the training comes to an end, and he spots Mayor Orson approaching. 

 

The mayor stands with crossed arms, one eyebrow raised as he looks down at his son. Darius ducks his head and looks ashamed. 

 

"Thought you could be clever and sneak around without being caught, did you?" The mayor asks. "You are lucky that it was Sir Damien that caught you and not a monster, do you understand? It is dangerous out, now, I thought I made that clear."

 

"Yes, Papa…" Darius nods. "I'm… I'm sorry. I just wanted to see the knights."

 

Orson sighs and nods. "I know, son. But I want to see that you're safe, understand? No more sneaking off, if you wish to come with me for training, you have to ask to come with me, and stay home if I say no." Darius nods again. "Good. Now apologize to Sir Damien for taking up his time, and thank him for looking after you when that is not his job."

 

Darius glances up at the knight. "I'm… I'm sorry, Sir Damien."

 

"Apology accepted, young sir," Damien nods. 

 

"And um, thank you, for looking after me," the boy adds. 

 

"Of course, it was my pleasure." 

 

Darius looks up to his father and Orson nods in approval. "I must thank you as well, Sir Damien," the mayor continues. 

 

"It was nothing at all, my lord, I assure you," Damien smiles. 

 

Orson nods again and gestures for Darius to get up. "We should return home," he says. "I'm sure your mother will want to have a word with you."

 

Darius looks at his shoes as he joins his father's side. Damien can't help but laugh softly. 

 

*

 

Rilla hears a rustling in the bedroom, and she sets aside the lunch she'd been making. 

 

"Zraine? You alright?" she asks, and she hears them grumble as she peers inside the bedroom. They've managed to push themselves up until they're sitting on the edge of the bed. They glare at her, unbroken wing fisted in the sheets. 

 

"Did you need something?" she asks. 

 

"Yeah, my freedom, I'd like that, and maybe a nice chocolate treat to take on the road," they grumble.

 

"You're not a prisoner, Zraine, we've been over this," she says, leaning on the doorway. 

 

"Uh huh, sure," they sigh. "I just… wanted to walk around. My legs are fine, so…"

 

Rilla looks at them for a moment before she nods. "Yeah, alright, let me just close the curtains out in the front."

 

They say nothing, just huff a breath. She heads back to the front room and draws the curtains closed. 

 

"Do you need any help walking around?" she calls, glancing over her shoulder. They've already stepped into the doorway, glancing around at the apartment. "Hm, guess not. Well, I'm just finishing up making lunch, so you can sit at the table if you want."

 

The harpy only nods, not saying much. They wander around the apartment while Rilla gets back to making lunch. The whole past week, Zraine has been moody and grumpy, but Rilla can't quite tell if that's the situation or their actual personality. They seem to want to talk, atleast, but every time they look like they're about to say something they suddenly change their mind. If they're that bored, then why wouldn't they try to pass the time with talking? 

 

"...So you said you go and do things most of the time. You fly around, I'm assuming you travel alot?" She decides to break the ice as they wander around the dining table for the third time. 

 

Zraine looks up at her, suspicion in their bright green eyes. "Why?"

 

"You wanna tell me about it? I haven't traveled much outside the Citadel, this trip is the furthest I've ever been from home." she shrugs. 

 

They hesitate, staring at her, like they're trying to figure out her motive. Rilla doesn't let it bother her, she knows her truth. Finally they seem to give in as they sit in one of the dining chairs. 

 

"...Well, I've sort of just been all over." they say. "I mean, I left the cliffs pretty early, I've had years to go wherever I like. And my work with the Senate sends–....sent me even further. I've been so far to see the Western and Northern Edges of the world, really."

 

"That far?" she smiles over at them. "Saints, I've never seen one of the edges of the world, what's that like?"

 

They actually… smile. Their eyes got a bit distant as they remember. "It's like… looking into eternity. The blue of the sky slowly fades into the deep purple and then black of the beyond and it just… goes. It just goes and goes forever without a single thing in sight… Sometimes I fly just over the edge, looking out into the nothing and I just wonder… what it would be like to keep going. To just fly out past the edge and just go... Would I fly for eternity?"

 

"Sounds like it would get tiring without anywhere to land." Rilla smiles a bit teasingly. The harpy scoffs as they roll their eyes and give her a look, but there is still a smile in their beak. 

 

"Yeah, obviously I know that, Maw," they caw, sounding like they're holding back a laugh. "It's just… It's the same with the Southern Edge, growing up in the colonies. The mountains face the mainland, but on the other side, the mountains just… stop. It's sheer cliff all the way down, and we challenge eachother as hatchlings to fly over the precipice as far as we dare. I held the record among my friends, of course, no one could fly like me."

 

"Why am I not surprised," she chuckles as she plates their food. "Should I be honored that I'm talking to a celebrity?"

 

"I would be, I'm incredibly impressive," Zraine smirks, looking down at their talons with feigned disinterest. 

 

Rilla laughs as she brings over their plates and the harpy takes their plate without complaint. They stopped checking for poison the second day when Rilla had threatened to eat their plate for them and leave them without food for the rest of the day. They'd gotten the message. 

 

"So you've been all over, huh?" she asks as they eat. 

 

"Just about. I'm not mad enough to try and fly into the East, this human hive is the closest I've been to the wall in a while," they say. "Last time I was this close, I met my friend for the first time. We ran into eachother, literally slammed into eachother because neither of us were paying attention to where we were flying."

 

"Sounds exciting."

 

"Ha! She nearly knocked my wing out of its socket, which she still hasn't apologized for!" Zraine laughs, they look so much better as they talk and laugh and forget about hating everything for a second. "Her wings are almost double the size of mine, still doesn't think that hitting me with them is going to hurt, such a brat."

 

Rilla can't help but laugh. "Are you part of a harpy flock?"

 

"Universe, no, I spent too long leaving the colonies, I'm not about to go back and get a flock," Zraine shakes their head and sighs. "I don't need one, I have something better. I have a family, not a flock."

 

That… rather tugs at Rilla's heart and she smiles at them. "That does sound better to me," she nods. "...Where's your favorite place that you've been?"

 

"Oh Universe, you can't ask that," Zraine chuckles again. "The world is too big to pick a favorite place."

 

"Alright, fair," Rilla rolls her eyes. "But there's no where that comes even close?"

 

Zraine leans backing their chair and thinks for a long moment. Their eyes are such a bright shade of green, with gold running through them. It reminds Rilla of the bright green apples that they sometimes sell in the market. 

 

"...The ocean," they finally say. "I just, something about flying over the ocean, it has the same sort of endlessness that the end of the world does. And it always… the ocean always looks beautiful, whether it's day or night. Sunlight, or moonlight, or even just starlight, it all fits with the ocean."

 

Rilla smiles, listening. "That does sound beautiful. I hope I'll get to see it someday."

 

"You don't get out much, do you?"

 

"Damien's the more traveled of the two of us," she shrugs. "Alot of my work takes me to nearby towns and sometimes I can get around to finding some more plants for my experiments, but for the most part I stay in one place. Makes it easier for my patients to find me if I'm in the general area."

 

"You should go more places," they half smile. "Adventure suits you. Maybe you could invent yourself some wings."

 

Rilla snorts. "Aerodynamics aren't my specialty," she says. "You could just fly me everywhere instead."

 

"Do I look like a carrier pigeon?" they raise an eyebrow. "I'm a messenger, not a delivery harpy."

 

Rilla laughs and shrugs. "Maybe a short flight?"

 

Zraine eyes her, and humphs. "....Maybe. You seem small enough that a short trip around a clearing might be possible. I'm many things, glamorous and charming included, but I am not particularly built for lifting."

 

Rilla's eyes brighten and she sits up straighter eagerly. "Wait, really? You mean it? You'd let me fly with you?"

 

Zraine groans and rolls their eyes, but their smile is still there. "Don't make me regret it," they say. "It's… It's just payment for bandaging me up, alright?"

 

Rilla doesn't let her smile waver, she plans to hold them to this offer as soon as their wing is healed. Hell yes, she's going to go flying, even if it is for a few minutes. "Sure. Thank you."

 

Zraine grumbles a little bit and goes back to their food. When they've finished, they hand their plate to her, and she goes to wash the dishes. The front door unlatches unexpectedly, and Rilla sees Zraine physically flinch and bristle for a moment before Damien walks in. Their feathers begin to soothe almost instantly when they see him. 

 

Rilla smiles as the poet enters, only growing when she sees he comes bearing flowers from one of the markets. "Well good afternoon, Sir Poet," she says with a playful tone. "And what have you brought from your adventures today?"

 

Damien smiles, quickly closing and locking the door behind him before he approaches. He carries a bouquet of orchids in a variety of colors, and a small pot of a different kind of flower, she thinks they're called Zinnias. But her attention is on the orchids when Damien plucks a white bloom from the bunch and holds it out to her. 

 

"A small gift for my lady fair, though I'm not worthy of her stare." he recites. "A show of love with flower white, to show she's made my world so bright. Her smile alone will light this bloom, and by her side I hope is room. For on this day I give her this, and hope I'm worthy of her kiss."

 

With the final line of the poem, he gently tucks the flower into her hair behind her ear, and his fingertips ghost over her cheek. She smiles wide, though she's sure she's blushing, and she leans in to kiss him gently. 

 

"Always, Sir Damien," she whispers as she pulls away, and Saints, he always looks so adorably dreamy after a kiss. "Thank you, they're lovely."

 

"I passed by the market on my return home, and I thought they might brighten up the place," Damien nods. 

 

"Definitely. Just put them on the counter, I'll find a vase for them," she nods and brings the empty dishes to the sink to finish washing up. She spares a glance and Zraine, who was watching them. They look… They are smiling at the two humans, looking almost fond of the display of affection. Interesting… 

 

Damien is still holding the potted plant as he turns to the harpy with a smile. "I see you are up and about this afternoon," he comments, sitting at the table. 

 

"Well, there's nothing wrong with my legs, atleast, sitting around was getting boring." Zraine nods. "I just… needed the movement, I suppose."

 

"You have my sympathies, my friend, I was once bedridden for months with a broken leg," the knight says. "The boredom was utterly unbearable. I wish we could offer you something to do that you would enjoy."

 

Zraine only hums, and then eyes the potted plant. "So what's that one?"

 

Damien… turns a bit red, hands twiddling with the pot on the table. "W-Well, I… I had said that some plants might brighten the place up a little. This apartment is only temporary lodgings for us, after all, it is not lived in. So I bought the flowers for here, Rilla's bouquet should do nicely out here in the front room while they last, and… I thought, perhaps, this one could have a place… at the bedside table."

 

Zraine blinks and looks between the plant and the knight for a long moment. Rilla watches them from the kitchen. 

 

"You… got these for me?" The harpy asks, and Damien's color only seems to grow deeper. 

 

"I… Yes, I had hoped they might… cheer you up?" 

 

Zraine just… stares at him, that puzzled look returning to their face. It's a long moment before they seem to shake themselves out of their thoughts, and shrug with a nonchalant air about them. 

 

"Well, I didn't get a fancy poem with my gift, but I suppose I can accept it," they sigh teasingly. 

 

Damien sputters a laugh before he tilts his head and thinks for a moment. He then stands, taking the plant, and paces a few small circles before turning back to the harpy. 

 

"With eyes of clover and wings of night, the sky itself becomes alive, stars above spin the only light, shimmering as you soar and dive. Though our understanding strained, we've reached out helping hand, and I so hope that we've explained, we follow our hearts' command. The war is hard and just begun, but here we try for some small peace. While beat upon by sword and sun, the beat of my heart never cease. And so upon you bestowed this gift, though wish I could give you more. Our time is short and though we drift… I hope someday to see you soar."

 

Damien presents the little pot to the harpy and sets it on the table before them. Zraine's eyes are wide as they stare at the poet. Their feathers are bristling again, though it doesn't look defensive, it looks… embarrassed? Flattered? Are they blushing, is this the harpy equivalent of blushing? Damien certainly is, Saints, his cheeks bright pink as he smiles a bit sheepishly. They sort of… stare at eachother for a long moment before Zraine clears their throat and finally looks away. 

 

"...Well… I suppose I did ask for that…" they mumble, taloned fingers ghosting over the rim of the pot as they look at the flowers. "...They're um… lovely…"

 

"I-I am glad you like them," Damien smiles and takes a step or two back. Rilla watches them both as she slowly and quietly gets a vase for the bouquet. They look so adorably awkward, the way they keep briefly meeting eyes for a moment before quickly looking away… 

 

Zraine shakes themselves to settle their feathers and stands. "I should, um, put these where they belong, then…" they say, grabbing the pot and brushing past the poet. 

 

Damien looks for a moment like he might say something, but instead he watches them go, staring after them once they've disappeared. His hand trembles slightly as he lifts it to press against his mouth for a moment… There's something in his expression that is familiar. 

 

"...Damien? You alright?" Rilla asks, finally breaking the silence. 

 

He blinks back to himself and lowers his hand. He tries to compose himself and smiles at her, though there's still that look in his eyes. 

 

"I ah… Forgive me, my love, I must have gotten carried away with that rhyme." he says, joining her in the little kitchen. 

 

"Nothing new there," she teases, and then takes his hand. "You uh, got something on your mind there?"

 

Damien hesitates, looking down at their joined hands. "I am… not sure if it is a matter of the mind, my Rilla… But I do not believe I have the words for it at present."

 

She nods, beginning to get an idea of his meaning. "I'm sure you'll speak your heart when the time comes… So! Tell me about training today?"

 

Damien smiles brighter, and begins to spin his tale of finding young Darius in the courtyard today. They both hear Zraine chuckle at the story, and they call the harpy over to be more a part of the conversation. 



*

 

"Okay, so recap, we're horribly lost in a stinky swamp surrounded by crazy monkeys and alligators, and probably going to die out here, but! I would like to point out that this is all your fault," Marc nods like he's won the argument. 

 

Dampierre is incredibly unhelpful with his reply. 

 

"What? This is so not my fault!" Marc retorts. "My plan was perfect! Ride ahead of the rest of the reinforcements and get there in faster time so I could help Rilla and Damien in Dolomite with all the monsters before the rest of the team even gets there!"

 

Another unhelpful reply from his companion. 

 

"We do not need Talfryn to guide us, he's a tracker! We're not tracking them, he wouldn't be of any help! We're traveling , he's not a traveler. Gosh, it's basic grammar Dampierre."

 

Marc can't see it, but he is certain that Dampierre rolls his eyes as they traverse the swamp. He thinks they took a wrong turn somewhere, which is not his fault! Dolomite looked so easy to find, how do you miss a jungle of giant monster trees? It's not his fault that the cardinal directions aren't clearly marked out everywhere he goes, darn outside has to be so wild and unruly, ugh, gross. Maybe he shouldn't have left Tal with the company, he bets that Tal would know how to get out of this swamp atleast. 

 

But there's something weird about this place. Marc swears that the trees are always changing, the paths rearranging themselves, leading them in circles. He can almost feel the air itself humming with magic, which is concerning. They've been wandering for days here now, and it's starting to get old. 

 

And concerning. Marc glances down to the bottle of medicine that Rilla makes for him. It's getting… low. Dangerously low. Like… to the point that he won't make it to Dolomite pain free at this point even if he found his way out of the swamp right now. He hadn't meant to forget the other bottle with Talfryn, he'd just been so eager to get on the road, so…. It should be Tal's fault for not reminding him, there!.... Okay, yeah, no, this is his fault. It's all his fault. 

 

Marc sighs as he looks around the swamp. "I swear we passed that tree yesterday, are you sure you know where you're going?"

 

Dampierre huffs. Marc half smiles sadly. "Yeah… me either. Okay, it's okay, we can figure this out. If my theory is correct about the trees moving, then… There should be a sort of pattern. A tree can only move so far, right? So… there must be a way to figure out the pattern that these trees move in. Heck, I bet it's like some big machine, with all the moving parts!" he begins to smile. "So, if we can find the pattern, then we can navigate our way out of here."

 

Dampierre snorts, and Marc smiles. "Yeah okay, it might take a while, but what else do we have to do? Your whole plan of wandering around aimlessly hasn't paid off, bud!"

 

Dampierre turns his head to look back at the knight, Marc could swear that it's a look of annoyance. 

 

"...Yeah, alright, you got me there. Alright! Sir Marc the Fierce and Dampierre the Mouthy can figure this out!"