Best Days, Worst Days

by TheSeeingStar

Summary:

They say your school days are the best days of your life. The Blumentrio may have a few thoughts on that.

Caleb’s origin story, as seen through Astrid's eyes.

*COMPLETE*

(Canon compliant with Campaign Two, but not with Caleb's Darkhorse origin comic which came out after the fic was completed.)

Notes:

I’ve been thinking for a while that I want to write a multi chapter fic, and since this has been going round my head for a while and we’ve had some recent canon developments, I think it’s time. Not sure how many chapters it’s going to end up being, and we all know where it’s headed, but there are huge gaps in this intriguing story that are just begging to be filled.

Astrid's POV, starting a few terms into the Blumentrio's first year of studying. Obviously it’s going to be dark at times, and so there are multiple warnings which I may need to update along the way. Caleb has been clear though that this was also one of the best periods of his life, so I hope to get that across as much as the angst. There will be some smut at some point, and given the ages of the characters involved and wherever you’re from in the world it may be underage.

Chapter 1: It All Starts Here

Raining again Astrid thinks to herself, sitting alone in their usual corner of the western turret of the library. Looking out of the lead-lined window over the soaked slate rooftops of the Shimmer Ward, the near deserted streets tell her it will be a while yet before Bren and Eadwulf make an appearance. Their last class is still in session, the campus largely quiet around her.

She always finds these moments of silence odd. The library itself is always hushed of course, policed by an unforgiving squad of jobsworth librarians whose sole purpose in life seems to be to hide around corners ready to whack noisy students around the head with dusty tomes. It’s in these moments though, when the silence spreads over the whole campus, that the place is unsettling. Study periods are fine when you have company, but when your only two friends are still occupied by their introductory Divination module, she’s found the time can rather drag. The only other time she ever sees the school outside of the classroom is between classes, when the place is taken over by a heaving frenzy of students and teachers rushing to their next destination.

She opens her assigned reading book and tries to focus, but her attention soon drifts to the window again. The past seven months since they joined the Academy have been a whirlwind to say the least. And not exactly what she’d hoped.

Her life had been so simple back in Blumenthal, not that she'd appreciated it at the time. At sixteen years old, everything had seemed unendingly complicated. Her studies, her family, the social trivialities of her friendship group, her body, her emotions, the myriad of choices in her future. It had seemed so much for her young mind to think about. So when she was chosen for the Soltryce Academy, it was a joyous relief, not just for the achievement and the opportunities it opened up to her, but because it took away some of those more banal complications. It removed so much of her indecision.

Astrid had never once looked back as they left for Rexxentrum, and to this day has never found herself missing home. She wonders if that's strange, most of the new intake of Academy kids seemed homesick to some degree when they first arrived. She even caught Bren crying once, but she can't muster even an ounce of emotion for her own parents enough to pine. They're only a few hours away if she needs them, which she never feels she does, so it's fine.

Her days now are occupied by a voracious appetite for learning, with impressing her teachers and fellow students, and with the desire to be the best at everything. Competitiveness is nothing new for Astrid, but coming from a small town with few who could match her strengths, the feeling of being truly challenged is exhilarating. And gratifying too, since it's become clear during the course of these first few terms that her talents are well above the average.

Bren and Eadwulf are similarly gifted, and since they’ve known each other all their lives to a degree, even just peripherally as children, they’ve naturally drifted together during communal classes and free time. They test each other, compete against one another, and provide solidarity when it's needed. And it has been needed. The three Blumenthal kids, plucked out of what she knows many paying students consider to be humiliating poverty, rising to the top of their classes despite their uncultured upbringings, are a sitting target for bullies. Still, it helps that they're quick on the draw and that Wulf, young as he is, is built like a brick shed. Safety in numbers she thinks to herself, hunkering down at the little table subconsciously.

A bell chimes distantly from the Chantry of the Dawn, signalling six o'clock, and finally an end to the week's classes. She instantly relaxes, then chastises herself for ever feeling uneasy in the first place. It’s not that she needs the boys exactly, more that they’re... a comforting presence. That's what she’s determined to tell herself anyway.

Glancing through the window again the rain still falls relentlessly over Rexxentrum, the once empty streets now beginning to heave with a mass of dark cloaked students, giddy with the excitement of a free weekend ahead of them, some running and squealing dramatically through the downpour as though a bit of water might kill them. It’s a world away from the rag tag kids she’s grown up with in Blumenthal. Wet and muddy from outdoor play has been the default setting all her life until recently, so the school's expectations for students to appear pristine at all times has been an adjustment to say the least.

She’s shocked from her thoughts by the table suddenly jarring towards the wall with a clatter. Before she even has time to snap her head around to identify the culprit, two hands are fisted in her cloak, dragging her up from her seat and shoving her back into the stonework.

"All on your own hick?" A familiar pair of amber elven eyes and a shit-eating grin fill her vision. Off to one side she hears the collective giggles of Ferdinard Matinfreid's groupies and the sound of her satchel being emptied unceremoniously onto the floor. The elf's fingers bite into her arms painfully as he holds her pinned, towering above her. Not for the first time, she hates that she’s so short.

"Haven’t you got anything better to do?" She hears herself say. It’s stupid, trying to stand up to them alone, but she’s tired of being pushed around and they’re getting worse. It’s ok when the three of them are together, even Ferdinard has been leaving them alone ever since Eadwulf punched him a few weeks back, but that incident seems only to have heightened the abuse when the elf or his followers manage to get any of them alone.

"I’d say clearing the place of riff raff is a worthy past time."

She’s not sure what makes her do it, hurt pride most likely in the heat of the moment, but before she can even consider the implications, Astrid finds herself casting Gust. Ferdinard releases his grip on her and staggers back as he’s hit by the blast of air that rushes through the space, only just able to keep his feet under him. As the air goes still again, his followers make a collective "ooh" sound of anticipation which would be humorous if it weren’t for the murderous glare the elf levels at her. That’s the exact moment she knows she’s made a huge mistake.

"Little peasant!" He seethes as he launches at her. She hasn’t a hope of running, though she tries anyway. He grips the neck of her cloak in one hand and a fistful of her hair in the other, hauling her towards the far corner. "We’ll see how far above your station you feel after I dangle you out of the window shall we?"

His words register slowly, but when they do she fights against him harder and tries to remember any spell that might help, hands scrambling to cast Catapult but misremembering the sequence of somatic movements in her panic. She manages to kick him in the shin, but he only stumbles as he throws her against the window sill.

"Maybe I’ll accidentally drop you. I hope you know Feather Fall hick." He hisses in her ear, beginning to lift her off her feet.

She catches a flash from the corner of her eye a fraction of a second before Ferdinard yelps and lets her go, staggering back as a fire bolt hits him in the shoulder. Her feet find the floor and she turns to see Eadwulf grab the elf by the throat, Bren following close behind with his hands still raised after discharging the spell.

"Ferdi-fuck. Getting your kicks from scaring little girls now?" Eadwulf growls in Ferdinard's face. 

Astrid frowns at the unintended insult. "Thanks Wulf..." Bren glances over with a smirk. The elf's eyes go wide and he grabs at Eadwulf's hands around his throat.

"Every single one of you, stop what you’re doing this instant!" Comes the shrill cry of the head librarian, the white haired ancient looking halfling storming towards them past the aisles of books flanked by two dwarven assistants. Eadwulf narrows his eyes at Ferdinard before slowly unwrapping his fingers from the elf's throat and backing away. 

"Mistress, we were defending our friend..." Bren begins, but is cut off by the halfling's hand raised to silence him. 

"Hush! You can all explain yourselves to your head of year!"

*****************

Standing between Eadwulf and Bren in Master Starek's office, Astrid tries not to dwell on just how unfair this situation is.

"Master, he was going to hang Astrid out of a window, we saw her being attacked and acted to help her. Should we have just stood by and watched?" Bren argues. He’s been trying his best to argue their case for the past five minutes, but Astrid can tell it’s useless. Master Starek isn’t known for his patience, and she can see from his rapidly darkening expression that Bren is pushing his luck. Her auburn haired friend, being far too cocky for his own good, doesn’t seem to realise until it’s too late however.

Anticipating the beleaguered professor's reaction doesn’t prevent her from jumping along with the other two when he slams his hands down on the desk.

"Enough!"

Bren finally stops talking, pursing his lips sourly. Eadwulf winces. He can tell what’s coming just from having been in here a few times himself over the past few terms. So much for proving we belong here she thinks to herself bitterly.

"Ferdinard has been dealt with, and frankly he should be the least of your concerns given your current situation." Astrid has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from sighing. An extra assignment to be handed in by Miresen morning on proper conduct on campus doesn’t seem like he’s been "dealt with" to her, but then she supposes that’s what happens when your father is a Zemnian Lord. Beside her, Bren scoffs, the teacher's nostrils flaring with barely checked rage. Eadwulf knows the score well enough by now to take the whole thing in his stride, standing passively to her other side.

The professor strides to a tall cabinet behind his desk, yanking the door open and retrieving a long thin birch cane. "Hold out your hands. Palms down." He orders. All three comply, though she notices Bren roll his eyes as he does.

The professor starts with her, her crime being considered the least serious of the three. He whips the cane up, the rush of air around it making a high pitched whine as he brings it down on her knuckles. She tastes blood and realises she’s bitten her cheek too hard, but it’s a small victory at least that she managed to stay quiet through the stinging pain.

"Casting unauthorised offensive spells at other students is strictly forbidden!" But trying to throw them out of a window is apparently ok as long as you don’t use magic and you have a rich father, she notes sourly.

Next he moves to Eadwulf, bringing the cane down on his knuckles three times. She can tell her burly friend tries, but he can’t help a strained noise at the last impact, his knuckles only just having healed from the last time they saw the cane only a few weeks ago.

"Always at the centre of trouble, aren’t you Master Grieve. You’ve been warned before. Physical attacks on other students are not acceptable behaviour, no matter the circumstances."

She swallows hard as he moves on to Bren, knowing it’s probably going to be bad. Master Starek pauses as if considering him, tapping the cane lightly against his own palm while he glares at him. Suddenly he raises the cane and brings it down hard, once, twice, three times, four, five... Bren takes ten lashes by the time Starek has finished. After the fourth strike, he can’t help his choked cries of pain, sounding more like sobs by the time it’s over. The professor calmly rounds the desk to place the cane back in its cabinet, and sits in his chair.

"Using an offensive spell to attack another student is bad enough, but to use a fire bolt in a library of all places was beyond stupid! You could have caused untold damage! Let this be a warning to all of you. Keep on causing trouble, and my punishments will become all the more inventive. And I am a very imaginative man, let me assure you. Now get out!"

As soon as they’re all out in the corridor, Astrid reaches to gently inspect Bren's hands. Neither her nor Eadwulf make any comment on the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks, both knowing he’s proud to a fault. He manages to swallow them down before they fall, even though just the simple movement of turning his hands over for her to look at them makes him hiss in pain. She winces. His knuckles are cracked and bloodied, the skin already swelling and darkening with bruises. She tugs her scarf from around her neck and casts prestidigitation to make it chilled, wrapping it around his sore hands.

"That should help the swelling. I’m so sorry Bren."

"It’s alright. It wasn’t your fault. It was almost worth it to throw a flame at that smug idiot." He manages a small grin despite the pain, and Astrid is alarmed to find herself blushing. She sees other students looking at Bren appreciatively all the time, but she’s never really seen what the fuss was about. Not until now.

"Now you see why I punched him before." Eadwulf laughs deeply, giving her a welcome distraction from the butterflies dancing in her stomach. The three of them start towards their dorms in the east wing of the building.

"You heard Master Starek. After today it’s best we just try to ignore Ferdinard and rise above it. It’s not fair, but then life isn’t and there’s nothing we can do about it." She sighs defeatedly. "I’d best learn Feather Fall like he suggested..."

"We'll just have to make sure we stick together as much as possible so he can’t single us out." Bren shrugs. Astrid feels her cheeks reddening again at that, the prospect of spending even more time with him equal parts maddening and inviting.

Chapter 2: Idle Thumbs

Notes:

More early days at the Soltryce innocent cuteness from the Blumentrio. Love writing these guys. Prepare for blossoming friendship, a deepening crush, and a little sweet revenge... Enjoy! x

There’s a rare break in the clouds over Rexxentrum, and Astrid stares longingly out at the early spring sunshine streaming through the window of Bren and Eadwulf's dorm room. She hadn’t played with them much as children, being nearly a year older and from the other side of town, but there are few Blumenthal kids who have grown up without living the majority of their existence outdoors. No matter the weather, their mothers had bundled them up in thick woollen layers and rain, shine or snow, out they had gone almost every day. Now teenagers, the boys seem content to lounge all day in their dorm at weekends, not even dressing if they can get away with it and certainly avoiding washing. They like their sleep too, she notes, regularly laying in until noon.

And so, with their efforts to stick together redoubled after Ferdinard's recent attack, Astrid finds herself stuck in the boy's dorm room wasting yet another perfectly good Yulisen morning, despite the very inviting weather outside.

She’s been curled up at the foot of Wulf's bed reading for two hours while the boys doze, when finally the lure of the sunshine becomes too much.

"Wulf?" She ventures quietly. No response. "Wulf..." She says a little louder. There’s a muffled hmph from under the well worn quilt, but no movement. She rolls her eyes and reaches a foot out to nudge him. "Wulf!"

"What?" Comes his barely audible response from under the quilt. She grabs a handful of it and yanks it down so his head is uncovered. He groans, flinging an arm up to hide his still closed eyes from the muted light of the room.

"Let’s go out and do something."

"...Why?" He asked, bemused.

She stares at him for a moment to ascertain if he’s serious. It seems he is from the lack of response.

"Because it’s what normal people do at the weekend? Because the weather is finally nice and we’re wasting it cooped up here in your stinky room instead of being out in the fresh air? Because I’m really, really bored of listening to you two snoring?"

"I don’t snore." Comes the sleepy response from Bren's bed to the left of them. The bed she very purposefully didn’t choose to sit on when she came in this morning because every time she looks at him recently her heart speeds up a bit. The prospect of sharing his bed space even completely platonically is a bit too much, even if she does feel ridiculous admitting it to herself.

"You do. Astrid, he snores right, you’ve heard him?" Wulf grins.

"Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure." She says without thinking, her cheeks heating.

"Shut up Arschloch." Bren fires back at Eadwulf, apparently unaware of her embarrassment.

"You’re an Arschloch." Wulf retorts. Astrid sighs, pressing a hand over her face.

"Boys!" She snaps after a few more rounds of their petty insults. Wulf moves his arm off his face to look at her, and Bren pulls his covers down enough to be able to peek over the top of them. "Please will you get up so we can do something fun today?"

************

Half an hour later they finally leave the dorm wing and she gets to feel the spring sunshine on her face. The boys, trudging along behind her, seem less enthusiastic.

"What exactly did you want to do again?" Bren asks wrapping his coat tighter around himself. It’s still only early spring and despite the sunshine, there’s a chill wind whipping around the Academy buildings.

"Nothing specific." She answers, heading towards the east gate by impulse alone.

"So you dragged us out of bed to wander the streets of Rexxentrum with no specific goal in mind?" Wulf grouses beside her.

"Those beds were going to start absorbing you if you stayed in them any longer. And your sheets stink, when did you last wash them?" The boys glance at one another cluelessly, and she gets the distinct impression they might never have washed them at all. "You two are gross." She tuts.

"If I’m gross, why has Mura Skellet asked me to be her partner at the spring formal?" Wulf grins smugly.

"Mura Skellet? With the big brea... brain?" Bren changes course last minute at Astrid's affronted frown. She notices Wulf nod and gesture to his chest, grin widening.

"Ja. Big brains I'm going to bury my face in." 

"Wulf..." Astrid cries exasperatedly, Bren snorting a laugh just behind her. "You’re barely sixteen!"

"And? I lost my virginity over a year ago, to Emel Hindt." He states proudly.

"Emel Hindt? The butcher's daughter?" Eadwulf nods and she gapes. She glances at Bren who at least has the good graces to look shocked too. "She’s a year older than me..."

"With age comes experience." Wulf winks with a smirk. Even Bren makes a disgusted face, though they both end up laughing.

"Let's go to Eiche Park and practice our somatics? There’s a test coming up in a few weeks and I’m not nearly ready." Astrid suggests as they exit the school grounds.

"I distinctly remember you saying we were going to do something fun." Wulf protests.

"Magic is fun." She grins. "Not getting kicked out of school is equally fun."

"You are not going to be kicked out. You’ll do fine in the test, I’ve seen your somatics." Bren tries to reassure her.

"It's alright for you, this all comes naturally to you, it’s as though you barely have to try." She sighs. She’s noticed she does that a lot around him lately... "I just want to do well."

"There’s a quiet spot in the trees near the pavilion barely anyone seems to know about, we can go there to practice. I can help you if you think you need it." Bren suggests. She smiles.

"Thank you. I’d appreciate that. Come on Wulf, you must want to fire off a few spells, at least just to show off?"

"Fine. I suppose I could do with practicing Magic Missile. But then after that we’re doing whatever I want to do, deal?" Astrid grimaces unsurely, but agrees anyway.

When they arrive at the park, the area that Bren suggested is as empty as he said it would be. Screened off from the vast open areas of formal gardens and grasslands, it’s a clearing in a little stand of birch and sweet chestnut trees a short way from the main walkway around the hexagonal park. Perfect for practicing magic undisturbed.

Eadwulf practices his stance and the gestures needed to produce Magic Missile off to one side of the clearing, sending a few volleys of the arcane projectiles towards the trunk of a large sycamore, burning dark scars into the bark. On the other side of the clearing, Bren and Astrid practice Thunderwave and Earth Tremor, never speaking the verbal components to send their spells, but going through the motions of the intricate patterns of hand movements.

Astrid knows Bren has a remarkable memory for these sorts of things, seemingly only having to see their professors draw the runes and patterns in the air once in order to be able to recreate a new spell. He’s unendingly patient as he runs through each rune with her, never getting exasperated when she gets it wrong and growls out her frustrations. He’d make a wonderful teacher one day, she realises. He stands close behind her and takes her hand to show her one particular sequence she struggles with, and the butterflies in her stomach are suddenly back with a vengeance.

"So, thumb and forefinger together," he guides her hand into the correct pattern, "then add your little finger, then your index finger." She feels his breath on her neck and bites her cheek to stop a sigh that threatens. "Now make a fist, and release." He grimaces as their still joined fingers ball and stretch, drawing his hand away to shake it out.

"Still sore?" She frowns. It’s been a few weeks since their painful trip to Master Starek's office, Bren's knuckles still carrying the scars from the cane. She finds she really wants to kiss them, shoving her hands in her pockets instead and hunkering in on herself. What is wrong with me, she thinks, I’m pathetic!

"A bit." He shrugs it off, flexing his hands. "Are you cold?" He asks concernedly. Her eyes widen a fraction as she realises he must have noticed her sudden discomfort. At least he thinks it’s the weather...

"Nein, I’m Ok..."

"Here, I forgot," he opens the collar of his coat and she sees her scarf looped around his neck as he unwinds it, "I need to give this back to you." He wraps it carefully around her own neck with a smile that warms her more than any winter clothing could. "Thank you for letting me borrow it. You were right, the cold did help with the swelling."

She swallows hard, struggling to form a coherent reply with him so close to her. It's almost a relief when, from across the clearing, Wulf yells "Get a room you two!" She and Bren both look at him startled, their friend chuckling at them as he makes his way over. "Are you done practicing? I’m starving."

Bren rolls his eyes. "Ja, I think we’re done. You’ll do fine in the test Astrid."

"Thanks. Ok Wulf, let's go get some food and then see what you have in store for us this afternoon..." she says less than enthusiastically. Her large friend's answering smirk does nothing to make her feel at ease...

*************

Astrid hadn’t known what to expect from Wulf for their afternoon activity, but in her wildest dreams she would never have come up with this. Huddled together in an alleyway close to campus, keeping well out of sight of anyone passing by, Wulf eagerly fills a paper bag with flour and eggs.

"Wulf, this is mad. You heard what Starek said the other week about his punishments getting worse, what if he sees us?" Even Bren is worried, which is never a good sign.

"Run fast enough that he doesn’t." Comes Wulf's shrugged answer, as if it's most obvious thing in the world.

"When we get hauled into his office again, there is no way I'm taking any blame for this. You’re on your own." She mutters, keeping a close watch on the street beyond the alley's shadows. She glances at Bren's knuckles, which he keeps subconsciously rubbing, and swallows hard. "How do you even know where he lives?"

Wulf doesn't look up as he tips the last of the flour into the bag and folds it over to seal it. "I was on my way off campus one night and I saw him leaving, so I followed him."

"You followed him?" Bren repeats, raising an eyebrow. "You know I’ll back you up with anything Wulf, but that’s a little bit creepy."

Wulf shrugs again, seemingly unbothered by the accusation. "Are you two going to help me, or are you just going to whine all afternoon? Live a little, it’ll be fun I promise." Picking up the paper bag, he grins and makes his way carefully towards the entrance of the alley. Bren and Astrid exchange concerned looks, but reluctantly follow him after a few seconds.

Across the street, a terrace of five wooden beamed houses casts a long shadow in the mid afternoon sun, modest and narrow, but two storeys tall and well kept with a small cottage garden separating each dwelling from the cobbled road. Crouching as close to the wall as they can, Wulf points out the house to the left end of the row. It's moderately bigger than the rest, and has a small half-glass potting shed connected to its side.

"That’s the one. Pretentious fuck."

"You really don’t like this guy do you Wulf." Bren smirks.

"What gave you that impression... Now, all you two have to do is use Mage Hand to get this over there, knock on the door, and drop it on his head, Ok?"

"Oh, that’s all is it!? And what exactly are you going to be doing while we’re assaulting a teacher and getting expelled?" Astrid hisses, thumping him in the chest. He folds his arms, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I’m overseeing. Teaching you two how to lighten up, remove that stick from your ass, and have some real fun for once." He finishes with a haughty smile. She gapes for a moment before levelling a glare at him.

"I have fun…"

"How? Reading, studying... what exactly do you do other than that?"

"So what? You want me to prove myself by helping with your stupid prank? Fine!" She casts Mage Hand and has the magical extremity grab the bag of flour and eggs, glancing out at the thankfully deserted street as she whizzes it over towards Master Starek's front door, suspending it above the lintel ready to drop. Bren hastily casts the same cantrip, his spectral hand appearing beside the door. With a sigh he uses it to knock, rapping three times on the dark stained wood.

As she watches the door swing slowly open, her breath catches, stomach twisting nervously. Master Starek stares out with a confused frown, taking a step over the threshold to look left and right in search of the source of the knock. Before she loses her nerve, she ends the spell, the bag dropping onto the top of his head in a direct hit. The paper rips open and the shocked teacher is immediately enveloped in a cloud of white flour dust, the powder smattering his clothes all the way down to his shoes. Through the billowing cloud around him, she can just make out a cracked eggshell on top of his head and a trail of yellowish gloop dripping down his forehead.

Beside her, Bren stifles a laugh behind his hand, and she has to admit the image is pretty amusing. Wulf grins triumphantly, chuckling to himself. She looks back to their beleaguered head of year, shaking with rage as a handful of onlookers making their way up the street stare at him, sniggering as they pass. With an angry flourish he casts prestidigitation to clean himself, the cloud of white and the eggy gloop disappearing immediately.

"Whoever is responsible for this, come out here this instant!" He all but screams, cheeks red with anger and embarrassment, a vein bulging on his forehead. She stares at him transfixed, fear and disbelief at her involvement keeping her rooted to the spot.

"Time to go." Bren whispers in her ear, pulling her to her feet. Eadwulf is already ahead, leading the way through the alley away from the teacher still yelling furiously behind them. Her knees feel weak, but Bren keeps a firm grip on her arm as they run, picking up their pace when they reach the open street on the other side of the thin passageway. Following Wulf she finally finds her feet and Bren, seemingly confident that she can keep up, lets go of her as the three of them sprint through the familiar wrought iron east gate and back onto campus. They don’t stop running till they reach the safety of the boy's dorm, piling through the door and collapsing on to Wulf's bed, all three caught in a fit of breathless hysterics.

"Ok Astrid. You proved yourself after all." Wulf concedes, chuckling as he manages to catch his breath.

"Is that an apology?" She manages, still sucking in ragged breaths. It’s only now that she realises she’s landed between her two friends, and that what this morning might have felt excruciatingly awkward now feels completely natural and right. She wonders if they feel the same, because neither of them seem in a hurry to move either.

"I am sorry I said you had a stick up your ass." Wulf turns to smile at her. "But it is good to see you laughing for once."

"No more pranks for a while though Wulf, ja?" Bren says. He’s still out of breath at least, making her feel better about how unfit she is compared to Wulf who seems to have recovered from their run already.

"Ja, I don’t think my nerves could take that again any time soon." She agrees, chuckling at the mental image of Starek covered in mess.

"Don’t you two back out on me now. You had fun and you know it. I’ll have you pulling pranks regularly before you know it. Learn from the master."

She sighs, but the exasperation in it is only vague. Laying there between them both with a grin plastered on her face as her breathing finally begins to even out, she realises there’s absolutely nowhere else in the world she’d rather be right now.

Notes:

For reference;
Yulisen is the equivalent of Saturday in Exandria for those unaware.
I made up "Sule" "Feave" and "Maket" as there are really no apparent names for the various somatic movements used during spell casting, but I assumed students might be taught basic names for each one so they can practice and to help remember them.

Chapter 3: The Count of Three

Notes:

This one really ran away from me, so I’ve had to split it into two chapters as it just got too long. I had a lot of fun with this chapter, and as with any fanfic I’ve ever written, I'm learning a lot of random stuff through this thing. At least this early on my browser history probably doesn’t have me on a watchlist, but give it time 😉

"What do you want to do when we graduate?" Astrid asks distractedly as she attempts to disentangle a feather from her hair. Not for the first time since coming to the Academy, she considers cutting it shorter.

"I don’t know. What magical careers do people think are sexy?" Eadwulf winks at her before bending over, ruffling his hair to remove the excess of iron powder from it. She rolls her eyes. "I’m kidding. I like the idea of being in the army maybe. Bren's father has some great stories of his time serving, it sounds like fun."

Astrid flaps at the powdery cloud he creates, grimacing at the new stain it puts on her robe. With all the others, it’s not going to make much difference. Components class is always a messy one. Bren appears from the small cubicle of the boys shared dorm room bathroom, drying his freshly washed face with a towel. There’s still an ink stain on his cheek, but at least it’s faded now.

"I think I’ll stay here and go into teaching. Maybe do some research projects if I can." He answers.

"You want to stay at school forever? You’re a glutton for punishment Bren." Wulf grimaces. "I want to see the world, have some excitement in my life." Wulf strips off his powder stained shirt, dropping it on the floor beside his bed as he heads into the bathroom. Astrid can see why he gets so many appreciative looks from other kids in their year, and the year above come to think of it, with his broad shoulders and already impressive height compared to most of the other boys. She's never really seen the appeal herself.

"It’s safe, comfortable, relatively well paid, and there's a huge library. What’s not to love?" Bren sits on the bed beside her, giving his damp auburn hair a quick rub with the towel to dry it. She tries not to stare as it sticks to his forehead and her mind starts to wander... "What about you Astrid?" He asks, startling her back to herself.

"What?"

His brow furrows distractedly and he leans in to rub at her cheek with the towel briefly. "Charcoal smudge." He says by way of explanation, sitting back with a smile. "What do you want to do when we finish school?"

"Um... I don’t really know, haven’t thought about it much." She stands and starts heading to the door to hide her rapidly growing blush. "I’m going to go get changed, meet back here in a bit?" She doesn’t wait for an answer, rushing out into the hallway to her own dorm around the corner.

After a quick wash and a change of clothes, and feeling slightly more composed, she’s ready to head back to the boys. In one corner of the room a group of four of the other girls she shares her dorm with are having a hushed conversation, and from the giggles and the looks in her direction, it’s clear they’re talking about her. She sighs crossly and storms out.

Returning to the boys dorm, she hefts the door closed with more force than necessary and flops onto Wulf's bed in a huff. Bren looks up from the book he’s reading on his own bed, Wulf poking his head round the bathroom door, shoulders still bare.

"What's wrong?" Bren asks, putting his book down.

"I wish I could sleep in here with you two." She answers dejectedly. She knows she’s being overdramatic, but sometimes the constant whispers and comments from the other girls in her dorm get to her. "I know you two have had your own issues, but at least you have each other. After lights out I’m on my own."

"Then sneak in here after dark." Wulf shrugs, leaving the bathroom in just a towel slung around his hips.

She props herself up on her elbows, raising an eyebrow at him. "I can see that going down well with matron, especially if you walk around looking like that. It would be bad enough if she found me in here now, let alone after dark."

"Why don’t we all sneak out, keep you company till we’re tired, then sneak back in? Lights out is too early anyway." Bren suggests, coming to join her on Wulf's bed. He frowns in thought as he sits down. "What even is the point of lights out when some of us can summon Dancing Lights?"

She chuckles, already feeling a bit better. "It does feel arbitrary doesn’t it."

Wulf, who has been gathering clothes from various piles on the floor around his bed, doing the sniff test to determine whether they’re clean enough to wear, picks up his cloak from the foot of the bed. "I know an inn we could go to where they serve students." He says as he dumps the cloak unceremoniously over Astrid's head. She gives a little indignant squeak and grabs at the material to pull it off.

"I wouldn’t, he’s putting his pants on." Bren says dryly. She stops moving immediately, suddenly glad for the lack of sight. A minute later the cloak is plucked from her head and she blinks her eyes used to the light again, combing her fingers through her newly mussed hair. A now fully dressed Wulf drops onto the bed to the other side of her to put his shoes and socks back on.

"Suddenly feeling better about having my own dorm." She can’t help a smile at his answering smirk. Now if it had been Bren getting dressed... she thinks to herself, smile widening. 

"A tankard of ale will be very welcome after this afternoon's lesson." Bren mutters, laying back on the bed. "Dancing is not what I signed up for when we came here."

Astrid would usually be pleased at any excuse to dance, and their first formal only a few weeks away is an exciting prospect. It’s been the talk of the first year common room for months. The trouble is, much of the talk has concerned who's going with who, and since she’s not been asked by anyone, it’s been hard to feel too enthusiastic about it. At the moment it feels like yet another thing for the other students to use as social ammunition against her.

"It’s just one lesson. And you get a legitimate excuse to hold on to someone for a while. What’s not to love?" Wulf sits up having finished tying his shoes.

She rolls her eyes at him again. "Do you ever think of anything but sex?"

He grins wide. "Sex, food and magic. What else is there?"

************

"Into pairs please and no dawdling. You’re meant to be learning, not enjoying, so it isn’t necessary to be with whoever your partner on the night of the formal will be. Just hurry into pairs and get on with it." It’s clear from her exasperation that Madam Verrin wants to be at this dance lesson about as much as most of the students do. Apart from a few enthusiastic individuals, the majority hang back, eventually trudging into pairs reluctantly and standing awkwardly apart.

Wulf makes a beeline for Mura Skellet, and despite her ample bosom being well hidden from view by her cloak, he still openly ogles her as he approaches. She giggles in response, pressing her chest against his and peering up at him saucily.

"A polite distance should be kept at all times, thank you." Madam Verrin gives them a warning look, and they reluctantly move apart.

Wulf's determination to be partnered with Mura and the Blumenthal trio's lack of favour with many of the other students leaves Astrid and Bren with little choice but to pair up, which is both a blessing and a curse. Even Bren looks uncomfortable, but she puts that down to his dislike of the coming lesson.

"Now," Master Lodillus begins, obviously much more chirpy than Madam Verrin, "a good hold is the key to a good dance. Like so..." he stands with his arms in place ready for Madam Verrin to help demonstrate the correct position, and with a small but audible sigh she complies. A couple of the students giggle, but Master Lodillus seems unfazed. "Take your positions children."

With the hushed noise of dozens of awkward teenagers, the dancers all take their places. Master Lodillus separates from Madam Verrin to go around the group adjusting hands and elbows where required, which turns out to be most of the couples.

Astrid steps into Bren’s very unsure arms. It’s unusual to see him flustered, such a departure from his usual confidence, and unexpectedly it makes her feel quite bold. She takes charge for him, placing his right hand just below her shoulder and taking hold of his left hand, raising their elbows and leaning back slightly in the hold.

"You know how to do this?" He whispers, surprised.

"My mother taught me. She seemed to think if she brought me up to know the basics of some higher class pursuits, I might marry up one day." She rolls her eyes. "My father agreed because it’s a Zemnian tradition, and because it kept her busy. Not that he’d have ever had the guts to tell her if he hadn’t agreed."

"At least one of us will know what we’re doing." Bren sounds relieved. Behind him, Master Lodillus approaches, giving them a nod of approval. 

"You’ll do fine, just think of the steps as a somatic sequence. You’ll memorise it in no time and be leading me around the hall like a perfect Zemnian gentleman." He looks unconvinced but seems to collect himself nonetheless.

Master Lodillus bustles his way back to Madam Verrin in the centre of the group. "Well done everyone. Now the steps of a waltz go like so…" the two teachers begin to dance, the slow and simple set of three steps familiar to Astrid. "Leader, left foot forward, right foot side, bring them together. Right foot back, left foot side, bring them together. Follower, you do the opposite. And again! One, two, three, one, two, three..."

Bren stares at her, looking overwhelmed at the barrage of instructions. She chuckles, repeating Master Lodillus' instructions slower as she guides him. "Bring your left foot forward. Right foot to the side. Then bring your left foot over to join your right. Then reverse it, right foot back, left foot sideways, right foot joins the left foot." He looks down at his feet the first few times they run through the sequence, awkward and stompy, but it quickly becomes smoother and he looks up at her with a small smile. "Not as scary as it seems, hmm?"

"Not with you teaching me." He says earnestly, voice quiet over the din the other students are making. His eyes fix intently on hers while they move together, but she’s sure it must just be her wishful thinking. She clears her throat and looks away shyly.

"Try to keep your steps light, the waltz is bouncy, it rises and falls." She feels her elbow drop as she looks at the floor to avoid his gaze and forces her head up to correct the position. Confidence, she tells herself, we're just two friends learning to dance together.

But as her gaze meets his again, she’s not so convinced it’s all just in her head. She's sure she catches him looking at her mouth, eyes hooded and dark, his focus quickly snapping back to her eyes when he notices her watching him.

"Very good you two, great effort, wonderful chemistry!" The pair of them jump as Master Lodillus pats Bren on the shoulder before moving on to critique the next closest couple. Their step sequence interrupted, they both laugh awkwardly and take a breath before beginning again, the earlier tension evaporated.

"Are you… are you going to the formal with anyone?" He asks nonchalantly, appearing focussed on his steps again.

"No. I mean, I’ve not been asked."

"Yea, me too." He seems almost as though he wants to say something else, but the moment passes.

"At least we’ll have each other for company." She smiles and he nods. She goes back to concentrating on the dancing, distracted by the realisation that she never wants this lesson to end.

Notes:

Spell components. They get everywhere man. Now there’s a fanfic idea...

Thank you for the kudos and comments so far, they are very much appreciated and welcomed!

Chapter 4: Mixed Signals

Notes:

Second half of this mega-chapter. It’s all kind of making me wish I went to boarding school. But you know, not this boarding school. Not a Hogwarts if Slytherin were in charge kind of boarding school...

With lessons finished for the day and Eadwulf mysteriously missing in action, Astrid and Bren end up spending most of the afternoon free study session before dinner in their usual spot in the library alone. With the librarians on their usual high alert for noise, and the three of them on thin ice after the debacle with Ferdinard, there’s never much opportunity for chatter during these sessions. This afternoon though the silence stretches more than usual, and Astrid can sense that there’s some unspoken tension between her and Bren.

She’s about to pluck up the courage to finally ask him outright if she’s upset him somehow, when Eadwulf swaggers in looking disheveled and smug. He plops down into the seat between them, stretching out with an overdramatic sigh.

"How were Mura's big brains?" Bren asks seriously without looking up from his book. Wulf's grin widens and he drops his head back against the seat wearily.

"Full and round my friend. Full and round."

Astrid grimaces. "That is way more information than I needed to hear. I wondered where you went after dance practice, from now on, I'll never wonder where you are again."

"Aww. Did you miss me?" He reaches over and grabs her in his arms before she can react, hugging her tight against his chest. She notices Bren glance over but he doesn’t say anything. 

"Urgh!" She bats his arms away but ends up laughing anyway. "What exactly were you up to? Or do I not want to know?" 

He lets her pull away with a smirk. "Best not to dwell on it. Are we still on for tonight?" She nods without hesitation, wondering when exactly she became such a rebel. "Good girl. Bren?"

"I’m in."

"Excellent. The perfect end to the perfect day."

At dinner, with less chance of being overheard or whacked round the head with a book, they discuss their plan in more detail, working out where to meet, when to leave and what route to take to stand the best chance of avoiding any patrolling overnight staff. Unsurprisingly, it turns out Eadwulf is pretty well practiced in sneaking out at night.

*************

When matron calls lights out that evening, it’s less than a minute before someone casts Dancing Lights and a dim warm glow illuminates the interior of the dorm once more.

There are eight beds to a dorm in the first year quarters, and none of their occupants give Astrid more than a polite nod every once in a while. She overhears them talking about her regularly, gossip about where she’s from, her friendship with Bren and Eadwulf, the way she looks and dresses, even her weight. She pretends it doesn't bother her but it’s awful, and if she could get away with sleeping in with the boys without getting caught, there are plenty of nights she's genuinely considered it.

So as the time for her departure grows nearer, it occurs to her that there is nothing at all stopping any of the other girls in the room from running to tell matron if they see her go. In fact, they’d probably delight in her being disciplined because of them. Luckily, tonight all seven of them are crowded on the two beds at the furthest end of the room from her, and consequently the magical light of their spell is dimmed where she is, giving her at least some chance of escape.

As quietly as she can, she begins to place pillows and blankets under her quilt, making it look as though she’s huddled up asleep. Since she’s never involved in the social antics of the other girls, it shouldn't be too suspicious for them to assume she’s gone to sleep early.

Getting out of the door without them noticing however, is a whole different problem. After some thought, she decides to cast Minor Illusion. Closing her eyes, she imagines the noise of small pebbles rattling against the window closest to the seven other girls, as though someone outside at ground level were trying to get their attention. As soon as the noise begins the girls are intrigued, hurrying to the window to look out at the moonlit courtyard below. As quietly as she can, she grabs her cloak and heads for the door, managing to open it and slip out without them noticing through their excited chatter.

Triumphant, she tiptoes her way down the dark corridor and around the corner, where she bumps into the solid wall of muscle that is Eadwulf. He grins down at her, as does Bren behind him, and silently they begin to make their way through the maze of hallways to the ground floor, using the much less frequently patrolled service stairs through a panel door on the main landing. Wulf had been very proud of himself while explaining how he’d worked that trick out a few months ago. Something to do with a blonde half elf with a penchant for doing it outdoors. She’d only been half paying attention - Wulf's more long winded explanation had included details she'd neither wanted nor needed to hear.

The service stairs lead out onto a corridor she’s not seen before, running behind the dining hall and kitchens. "This way." Wulf whispers, leading them into the kitchen itself. Along the back wall, beside a huge larder stocked with row upon row of enormous glass and earthenware jars, a wide, thin window sits about five feet up. Wulf unlatches it and swings it open, gesturing for them to climb through. Bren grabs the sill first and hoists himself up. Ducking through the frame confidently, his hand slips at the last second and he disappears from view, a muffled thud sounding a second later accompanied by a grunt.

She stands on her toes to see if he’s ok, Eodwulf behind her having to stifle his laughter with his fist. Bren gets quickly to his feet, dusting himself down and shooting a glare at Wulf. He holds a hand out to her, helping to pull her up the wall. She squeaks as Wulf's large hands grasp her round the waist, hoisting her the rest of the way up. She manages to drop to her feet with some semblance of grace on the other side of the window, Bren hovering close in case she needs assistance. Wulf swings down beside them without issue, grinning smugly at Bren.

They stick to the cover of the heavily shadowed buildings as best they can as they cross the grounds, heading for the smallest, least auspicious gate of the complex to the north side of campus. Ducking into an alcove in sight of the gate, Wulf beckons them to follow him.

"How's your Disguise Self coming along?" He whispers, barely visible in the dark.

"You didn’t think to ask if we both had it prepared before attempting this?" Bren questions quietly.

"We had Illusion class this morning, it was a fair assumption. So, do you?"

"…Yes."

"Yes."

"Then stop complaining and make yourselves look like teachers." She can practically hear Wulf rolling his eyes. She casts the spell, hearing Bren do the same under his breath beside her.

"Do you not have it?" She whispers to Wulf, not hearing him muttering the verbal components.

"No."

"Then what are you going to do?" She asks.

"Pull up my hood and make out like I’m meant to be here. Confidence alone can get you surprisingly far." And with that, she hears him stride out onto the path towards the gate. She grabs Bren's arm and pulls him out with her, taking a deep breath before following Wulf, trying to walk as though she really is Madam Feroth the transmutation teacher, and not a first year student making an audacious escape attempt.

With a number of their professors well known for working late on personal research projects, they exit the grounds unhindered, Astrid not really believing it until they’re a few streets away. She lets out a deep sigh of relief.

"We actually did it..."

"You two are so cute." Wulf laughs. "Don’t drop your spells just yet, you’re buying the first round when we get to the inn."

***********

Two hours and three tankards of ale later, Astrid is pretty sure she won’t make it back to campus without falling over, let alone manage to sneak back into the building. Bren is in a similar state, so she reasons that at least she won't have to feel alone when they get caught. They stumble out of the inn together into the deserted streets, loudly hushing each other as they laugh at their unsteadiness.

"We can’t go back like this." She giggles, holding Wulf's arm for balance. "What are we going to do?"

"We need to sober up a bit. Fresh air is good, we’ll just stay out for a while longer." Bren surmises, with a half shrug half trip. "My father told me he does it when he has too much to drink and doesn’t want my mother knowing. Just goes and lays in our top paddock for a bit."

"So we go and lay in a park for a while. Sounds good to me." She agrees, before realising she doesn’t have a clue where the nearest park is. Luckily, Eadwulf apparently does know because he heads off up a gently inclining street to the west, leaving the others to catch up.

Within minutes they reach a large tree lined green amongst the low buildings of The Tangles, the old city area that Wulf informs them they are currently in. She remembers shopping here for school supplies a few times, though the streets all seem a blur now. A few dozen feet past the tree line, they all three topple to the ground in a pile. 

Astrid turns onto her back and looks up at the sky. It’s bright with stars tonight, and looking up into the depths of its vastness makes her feel even more dizzy than she did when she was upright.

"How far away do you think they are?" She asks, not really expecting a response.

"Who?" Asks Wulf, slurring.

"The stars!" She tuts, pointing at them in case he doesn’t know what stars are. "How far away do you think the stars are."

"Fuck knows." Comes his eloquent response. She tuts at him again, smacking him noncommittally on the shoulder.

"I read a book about that once. They worked it out, the great scientists of the Age of Arcanum. It was a very long way. Millions and millions of miles." Bren finishes with a yawn, and she feels him give himself a little shake to stay awake.

"Very interesting. And on that note, I need a piss." Wulf struggles to his feet and begins to stumble off towards the trees.

"Nice..." She snorts sarcastically.

"You know, they say this planet spins around on its axis so incredibly fast, it’s amazing that we can’t actually feel it." Bren lifts a hand, as though he’s trying to poke the stars in the sky, lowering it to cover his eyes with a groan after a few seconds. "After a few ales though, it feels very much like it's spinning..."

She chuckles at him, taking his other hand in hers in an effort to ground him. "Head of the Assembly. Or maybe just an Archmage, if I had to settle." She says out of the blue.

"What?" He moves his hand from across his eyes to peer at her confusedly.

"You asked me earlier today what I want to do when we finish school." She grins at him.

"Wow. Ambitious." He nods appreciatively. The silence between them stretches again for a moment, but she’s ok with it this time, enjoying staring up at the beautiful sky.

"Astrid?" Bren says suddenly.

She turns her head towards him again. "Mm?"

He rolls onto his side, propped up on one elbow to look at her. "I really enjoyed dancing with you today."

A warm feeling sweeps over her and she smiles. "I enjoyed dancing with you too."

She can’t see his face very clearly in the dark, but she can just make out his eyes considering her curiously, before he very slowly begins to lean in towards her. Her brain is running slow with the alcohol and it takes a moment for her realise he’s going to kiss her, her breath faltering as the tip of his nose brushes hers. And then all of a sudden, he stops and pulls away, sitting up to scrub a hand through his hair.

"Sorry. That was wrong of me. I know you have a thing for Wulf, I’m just... drunk... I’m not thinking straight."

It’s all so sudden she can’t process it quickly enough. "What?" She follows him in sitting up, staring at him in bewilderment. "You think... why do you think I like Wulf?"

"I don’t know..." he mumbles with a shrug. "He’s Wulf, lots of people like him... You always sit on his bed when you come to our dorm, you get all cross when we talk about Mura Skellet's breasts, you’re fine with him but you get really uncomfortable around me... You practically ran out of the room earlier at the first chance you got when he was half naked, then when you came back and he got dressed you had this weird dreamy smile on your face..."

She falls back into the grass laughing, and really it’s not funny at all, it’s hideously embarrassing, but she can’t stop herself. She hears Bren make a sound almost like a growl and tries to sit up again as she feels him shift beside her. By the time she flails her arms enough to get her balance and sits upright again, he’s already stalking off through the gloom.

"Bren! Come back. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh..." He ignores her and continues past the trees back out to the street, disappearing from view.

"I leave you two alone for one minute and you end up having a fight." Wulf remarks as he reappears. "What happened?"

"I’m an idiot." She wails, flopping down into the grass again. "Why did you let me drink so much, I’m really drunk!"

"You didn’t drink that much, didn’t your parents ever let you drink at home?"

"No! It’s not becoming of a young lady." She whines, groaning. "I feel sick Wulf."

He sighs, taking her hands and slowly hauling her to her feet. "I thought your father liked traditional Zemnian past times. If that’s not drinking a bellyful of ale I don’t know what is... Come on, let’s get you back to school. And if you are going to be sick, aim it away from me, ja?"

By the time they arrive at the gate and hastily make their way through, back to the relative safety of the shadowy buildings, her head feels clearer but her heart feels heavy. She tries to swallow down the lump in her throat but it sticks painfully, and she lets out a little sob. With a mumbled curse, Wulf pulls her into a recess between their accommodation building and the assembly hall.

"For fuck's sake Astrid, stop crying. If we get caught because you’re an emotional drunk..."

"He hates me." She sniffles. "He's never going to forgive me."

"Well that’s ridiculous. He probably won’t even remember whatever happened tomorrow..."

"What if he didn’t make it back? What if he was murdered in the street?" She looks up at him wide eyed, wiping her damp cheeks on her sleeve. "It’s all my fault."

"Astrid." He whispers exasperatedly, placing his hands on her shoulders and shaking her gently. "Pull yourself together. It’s just the alcohol making it seem worse than it is. Let’s go inside, get some sleep, I promise you everything will seem better in the morning."

She nods, sniffing. "You’re a good friend Wulf."

"Yes I am." He mutters, taking her hand to lead her back to the kitchen window. She’s surprised to find she makes a pretty good job of the climb back through, only falling a little way. As they climb the service stairs and reach the corridor their dorms are on, she finds she feels suddenly exhausted. While she leans against the wall yawning, Wulf pokes his head in the door of his and Bren's dorm.

"There, he’s fine. Sleeping already. Now go to bed." He shoos her off in the direction of her dorm and slips into his own.

As she approaches her door, she realises with a start that Wulf had been lying to make her feel better, or at least to get her to go to bed and stop making a scene, because Bren is sitting on the floor of the corridor with his back against the wall and his head in his hands. She sits beside him, breathing through a fresh bout of dizziness.

"I’m sorry." She says barely audibly. "I wasn’t laughing at you, I promise."

"What were you laughing at then?" He asks sourly.

"I was laughing because you got it so wrong. I like you, not Wulf." She smiles shyly at him, feeling emboldened by the alcohol and the exhaustion. He stares at her for a minute, his expression unreadable.

"But you’re so uncomfortable when you’re near me?"

"Because I was trying to hide it. It’s embarrassing, the way you make me blush and have stupid daydreams... I shouldn’t be telling you this." She leans her head back against the wall with a deep sigh. "Have you never had a crush?"

"Ja. On you." She opens her eyes and looks over at him, a familiar flush heating her cheeks. This time when he leans towards her, he doesn’t pull back at the last minute, and their lips meet briefly in a soft, sweet kiss. She smiles when he moves away, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. She's about to kiss him again but her body betrays her as she yawns. With a soft laugh, he kisses her cheek and pulls her to her feet, reaching out to grasp the wall as he stumbles slightly.

"Go to bed Schatz. I’ll see you in the morning."

She finds his hand in the dark and gives it a squeeze before crossing the hall to her door, turning the handle as quietly as she can. "Good night." She grins sleepily, slipping into the room. Her steps are wobbly as she walks to her bed, and she’s not sure if it’s the alcohol or the way Bren's kiss made her legs feel like jelly. She decides it’s probably the ale, but slipping her cloak off and getting under the covers fully clothed, she's too happy to care.

Notes:

Ahh teenage kicks...

I really feel for Wulf here. A great day of boobs and beer, rounded off by an emotional drunk and his besties pairing up. Eek.

There are a few very subtle nods to episode 89 in here, which were such wonderful fluff I just couldn’t not add them in. Let me know if you spotted them.

Chapter 5: In the Eye of the Beholder

Notes:

Thank you so much for all your lovely comments so far! They are enormously appreciated 😍

When Astrid wakes the next morning her head feels like her brain is trying to force itself out of her skull, her heartbeat painfully loud in her ears. Drifting in and out of a fitful sleep, she hears the morning preparations of the other girls in the dorm and the sound of the door opening and closing as they leave one by one for classes. Next thing she knows she’s stirred awake by the bells marking the start of morning lessons, their shrill chimes ringing harshly through her sensitive head.

As she lays there trying to work up the will to get up the door opens again, a pair of familiar low heeled boots clip clopping swiftly over to her bedside.

"Astrid, you appear unwell. Whatever is the matter?" The unsympathetic drawl of Matron reaches her ears, muffled through the quilt.

"A stomach bug I think." She replies weakly, pulling the covers down from over her head.

"Mhmm..." Matron presses a hand to her forehead none too gently. Astrid winces. "No fever. How curious." The woman roughly yanks the quilt back further. "And you appear to be fully dressed. Why is that?"

Astrid forces her eyes open, looking up at the sour mouthed greying elven old bat. "I dressed ready for class but was too ill to make it out of the room." She answers, impressed with her ability to think on her feet despite feeling like she might throw up every meal she’s ever eaten. Matron squints at her disbelievingly.

"How unfortunate that Bren seems to have a similar complaint just this morning too, and that Eadwulf looked decidedly green around the gills when I saw him scuttle out to class earlier. A remarkably sad coincidence."

"We... spend a lot of time together, we must all have the same bug." She offers, knowing it’s a weak explanation.

"It is a day for odd coincidences it would seem. Three as yet unidentified students were spotted sneaking back onto campus late last night. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?"

She shakes her head, trying her best to look innocent. A fresh wave of sickness rolls in her stomach and she bites back a whimper. "No Matron."

"Of course not." The old woman smiles coldly. "Well Astrid, since I can detect no sign of fever in you I am quite certain you are well enough to attend class today after all. Joyous news I’m sure you’ll agree. You will therefore join your fellow students within the next quarter of an hour. Understood?"

Astrid nods, wincing.

Her first class of the day is Enchantment Theory, which entails a lot of listening to the very dull, monotonous ramblings of Master Hilltopple, and taking down copious notes. Not too challenging, and his voice is quiet at least.

The walk to class is torture though, the day bright with spring sunshine and the class right on the other side of campus. She walks clutching her satchel to her stomach with one hand, her other hand over her brow shielding her eyes from the harsh light. Never drinking again... she repeats over and over in her head, taking deep breaths to calm her churning stomach.

Eventually she makes it, slipping into class as quietly as possible and gingerly taking her seat. Bren is already there looking considerably more disheveled than usual, head leant in his hands on the desk. Eadwulf looks half asleep, though in this class that’s not unusual. Since none of them want to pursue a career in enchantment after school it’s not a subject any of them are particularly enthusiastic about.

Their seats are assigned alphabetically according to first names, so while Wulf is on the other side of the room, Bren at least is right next to her. He looks up, giving her a small pained smile. She smiles back and takes his hand under the desk, then has a moment of panic hoping she didn’t dream their kiss last night. He laces their fingers together and gives her hand a squeeze so she figures it must have been real after all, and that cheers her up considerably.

Somehow they make it through all their morning classes, and forfeiting the usual canteen lunch, the three friends head to the relative quiet of the boy's dorm to rest. She makes a point of sitting on Bren's bed instead of Wulf's and while she’d like to acknowledge the significance by smiling radiantly or sharing a poignant look with him, all she can manage is a pathetic groan as she flops face first into his pillow.

"You look how I feel." Wulf says from his own bed.

"You cannot feel as bad as this, you hardly look ill at all. How do you do it?" Bren asks, voice hoarse as she feels him sit beside her.

"Practice."

"Matron knows what we did last night." Astrid mumbles into the pillow. "What will they do to us?"

"I think making us go to class when we feel this awful is probably punishment enough, we should get away with it." Wulf sounds confident so she chooses to agree with his very positive assessment.

The day drags on but gradually she starts to feel better. By dinner she manages to eat, and as the evening draws in, her headache finally subsides. She spends the last hour before lights out with the boys laughing quietly about their antics the night before, or what they remember of them at least.

By the time she has to head to her own dorm she feels exhausted. "I’m going to bed, hopefully to sleep the rest of this thing off. See you tomorrow."

"I’ll walk you." Bren jumps up eagerly, following her to the door. Wulf raises an eyebrow suspiciously but bids her goodnight without questioning it. She’s sure Bren will get the third degree from him as soon as he returns. With the amount of time they all spend together there’s no chance of them keeping a secret this big from him anyway.

When they reach her door, Astrid looks up at Bren shyly. "So..."

"So..." he repeats and they share a laugh at their awkwardness.

"Are we... together now?"

"Would you like us to be?" She can tell he was aiming for nonchalant but he sounds more nervous than she’s ever heard him. It's a welcome boost to her confidence.

"Yes. Would you?"

"Yes." He tentatively places his hands on her waist and presses his lips to hers, soft and gentle. His mouth slants and moves slowly over hers. She follows his lead, assuming he has more experience since she’s never kissed anyone before and she knows from the idle gossip of her friends back in Blumenthal that he’s had a few dalliances before. She remembers Gilda Webler rushing excitedly to tell them all that he’d been caught kissing Reta Hahn and her mother had chased him down the street brandishing a ladle. Whether that was true or not she doesn’t know, nothing much ever happens in Blumenthal and as a result, gossip is often exaggerated when anything remotely exciting occurs.

She forces her distracted mind back to the present, hoping her kissing is not so awful he’ll change his mind about being with her, because she’s really quite enjoying it. She lets out a contented little sigh, and when he pulls back she’s relieved to see he's smiling bashfully. Seeing him like that makes her stomach flip and feeling brave all of a sudden, she throws her arms around his neck and pulls him back in. This time he opens his mouth as they kiss and she feels his tongue probe her lips. She follows his lead again and while the slide of his tongue against hers is wet, slightly awkward, and should be a little bit disgusting if she thinks about it, she can’t think too hard because it feels amazing.

She's startled back to reality by a splash of cold water over her head, and they jump apart in shock. Matron stands a few feet away holding an empty basin and with a face like thunder. They really should have remembered she’d be coming along the corridor soon for lights out.

She shakes the basin threateningly at them. "You two are on thin ice already! Go to bed!"

With one last glance at Bren, Astrid stifles a laugh and ducks into her dorm as he takes off for his. The other girls all stare at her as she shuts the door and leans back against it with a contented sigh. She can only imagine what they must think of her standing there half soaked, but she's too happy to care.

***********

The next few weeks go by in a blur. With spring tests on the horizon their classes become more intense, study periods replaced by extra prep sessions, and almost every spare moment is taken up with revision. There’s little chance for her to spend time alone with Bren, and all they manage are a few snatched moments that are all too short. Any dread she previously felt about the upcoming formal is well and truly gone now with the prospect of spending a whole evening dancing with him.

One evening after lights out, just a few days before the formal, her room mates are showing off and making last minute alterations to their dresses when it strikes her that hers is really quite plain in comparison. And not just plain, the crude stitching and old fashioned design shows it to have obviously been made by her mother, and really its slightly small for her now too. She starts to have doubts, but she can’t afford to buy anything better and it’s far too late to even attempt to alter it. She wouldn’t have cared before but now that she and Bren are together she finds herself feeling more insecure about her appearance. She’s hardly a beauty, thinking herself to be average at best, and with his lovely eyes, strong chin and striking auburn hair, she wonders what on Exandria Bren sees in her.

It’s not that she’s in love with him or anything silly like that, at sixteen and seventeen years old it’s not exactly likely they’ll end up married or anything. But she really likes him all the same, and things with her peers are bad enough without the embarrassment of a break up for them to titter over too. And what will happen to their little trio if things between her and Bren don’t work out? Even if it just fizzled out now she’d have to see him all the time still, probably silently pining over him, and that would be unbearable.

She realises she’s been staring at the same page of her History of Arcana book for the past ten minutes without taking any of it in and snaps it shut frustratedly. In her winter report, her literature professor labelled her "highly skilled in analytics with a fine eye for details and nuances", but in this instance she’d call it an irritating habit of overthinking things to the point of being ridiculous.

"What are you wearing to the formal Astrid?" She looks up, startled. The sudden sharp noise of her book closing has apparently attracted the attentions of her dorm mates. Merinda Vossy sits smirking at her across the room waiting for an answer to her very innocent sounding question, and Astrid knows full well they’re only asking for their own amusement. They hardly ever speak to her, and when they do there’s always some venom in it.

"Nothing special." She shrugs truthfully.

"Not that ugly thing in your closet, surely?" They all giggle inanely. "My grandmother wouldn't even wear that."

"Thanks." She says dryly, eyes narrowed.

"Bren's going to take one look at you in that potato sack and dump you in front of everyone." Renna Jenstorn adds with a laugh. Astrid is almost impressed with their ability to read her insecurities and exploit them so thoroughly. Outnumbered and with no inclination to fight her corner when it would be pointless, she lays down, pulls the covers over her head, and ignores their brief goading from across the room as she cries silently.

************

The afternoon of the formal, Astrid sits on Bren's bed trying to revise. Their usual study session has been dismissed early, since in the words of Professor Antwig who was meant to be supervising it, the whole class was "a roiling mess of hormones and excitement enough to drive one mad."

While Eadwulf takes his turn in their shared bathroom, Bren sits beside her and kisses the top of her head. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing." She lies with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. He frowns down at her, his concern clear. Bren always has been perceptive. "It’s nothing." She sighs, putting her book down. "I’m just being silly."

"You know you can tell me anything Astrid. I won’t think it’s silly, not if it’s upsetting you." He reaches to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind her ear and she wonders again what he sees in her.

"I’m just nervous about tonight."

"Nervous? About what? I thought you were excited about the dancing?"

"It’s not the dancing that’s the problem. I'm going to look awful, my dress is horrible..." He looks genuinely taken aback, and if she wasn’t feeling so disheartened she’d be flattered. "I told you, it’s silly. I’m just being insecure."

"That’s not like you. Has someone said something?" For the first time she realises it really isn’t like her to care what those stupid girls think. She's usually so confident, in her abilities, her intelligence, her ambitions. A few months of bullying from some jumped up little rich kids and she’s begun to doubt herself. It makes her angry, with the girls certainly, but more with herself for allowing them to get to her to this degree. She feels hot angry tears begin to prickle in her eyes and stands, turning away from him so he won’t see.

"Just the girls in my dorm being horrible again, nothing new. Anyway, I’d better go and get ready. I’ll see you later." She hears him call her name as she hurries out of the room, but she’s glad to find he doesn’t follow her, wiping her tears away crossly.

Later, when she really can’t leave it any longer to put her dress on, she tries to block out the disparaging noises and giggles of the other girls as she steps into it, yanking the cotton up over her slightly too broad hips. To avoid their likely hysterics  as she awkwardly attempts to do it up, she goes to the bathroom, wrestling with the clasps down the back in private.

Sitting on her bed, she turns away from the others while she puts two small braids into her hair, joining them in the middle at the back of her head with a silk ribbon that’s seen better days. She fiddles with the rest of her hair which hangs loose just above her shoulders, and wishes it was either naturally curly or straight and not an untidy mix of the two.

There’s a sharp knock on the door and Merinda practically runs to open it, loudly telling the others it’s probably her date, who's in the third year as she's been reminding them all for the past month, giving Astrid a sickly smile as she passes her.

"Oh, hello Bren. Wow, it turns out you country kids can scrub up well if you actually try. You know, Renna thinks you’re really pretty, it's not too late to change your mind and go to the formal with her instead if you want." There’s a chorus of giggles from the other end of the room.

Bren steps past her into the room without saying a word, expression dark and brooding, but when he sees Astrid an easy smile lights up his face. Merinda wasn’t kidding, he does look good. His suit is clearly adjusted but functional, the bottoms of his trouser legs and sleeves turned up and stitched, but it’s a neat job and she wouldn’t be able to tell if she didn’t already know about it from their conversations leading up to tonight. She wishes her mother could sew as well as his can.

He takes both her hands in his and pulls her up to stand, cupping her cheeks as he kisses her firmly, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers when he pulls back. "You look beautiful Schatz. Let’s go." And with that, he takes her hand and leads her out of the room without a second glance at the girls left gaping at them.

"You didn’t have to do that." She says, as they walk arm in arm towards the banquet hall where the formal is being held. "But thank you."

"Do what?" He answers, sounding genuinely confused.

"Lie." She snorts amusedly. "I know I look awful really but it means a lot that you put those vicious harpies in their place. Their faces were a picture when you..."

With a frustrated sigh, he alters their course and steers her over to the shadowed base of the library building they’re passing, pressing her gently but firmly up against the wall as he kisses her earnestly. She’s quickly lost in it, almost forgetting about the formal completely.

"I didn’t lie." He says against her lips, kissing her again before she barely gets a breath. "You are beautiful, certainly to me. I don’t care if other people can’t see it, they don’t matter. I only care that you see it." His kisses move down her jaw to her neck, his hands ghosting down her sides to rest on her hips. "It’s not tight, it’s figure hugging, and Astrid that works for me. And if the material is plain, it’s because you don’t need embellishments." His lips move back up to hers again, his final kiss chaste before he pulls away, taking her hands in his. "It only matters what you think, and what I think, and the rest of them can go fuck themselves."

She looks at him a little dazed for a moment, and at least he’s breathing as heavily as she is because it’s almost embarrassing how much power he has over her. He’s right, she can’t question it. Those stupid girls really don’t matter and if he thinks she looks good, then she must look good.

Feeling more confident than she has in months, she takes his arm again and rises up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Let’s go dance."

The formal is every bit as perfect as she’d hoped it would be, a chance to hear music for a whole evening, a luxury she’s rarely experienced. Bards would occasionally come to Blumenthal when she was growing up, but it was a rare occurrence. Mostly it was old man Schulte murdering the lute in one of the local taverns as he got steadily more drunk. Every year there was a harvest celebration and a midsummer dance in the town square, but it was nothing compared to this.

Hundreds of magically suspended candles high in the arch of the roof light the space, the usually bare stone hall decorated with colourful banners and flags. A half dozen musicians play a jolly, bouncing rhythm from a raised platform at one end of the hall, and already the floor is full of couples gingerly putting into practice the steps they’ve only recently been taught. Astrid drags a slightly reluctant Bren to join in, but it doesn’t take him long to get into the swing of things and lead her confidently through the steps. After a while he even grows bold enough to add a few spins and dips. Inevitably she ends up stumbling after one too many spins, which sends her careening into his chest as they both end up laughing. Their hold is ruined, the polite distance between them now distinctly less polite, and if that was his intention she doesn’t mind at all, staying as close to him as the steps will allow.

It’s past midnight when the band finally play their last, the number of students still in the hall significantly dwindled now and the supervising teachers encouraging the last of them to go to bed. As they make their way out hand in hand, they exchange grimaces as they pass a couple kissing sloppily on the entry steps.

"Is that what it looks like when we kiss?" She whispers, feeling slightly traumatised.

"Probably." He smirks, not looking the least bit ashamed. "Poor Wulf having to see that. Speaking of..."

Bren grins over her shoulder just before a pair of familiar huge hands grab her waist and spin her round. "May I have this dance my lady?" Wulf takes her hands and pulls her along for a few steps of a Zemnian country jig she hasn’t danced in years. She laughs happily, indulging him for a moment before batting him away.

"I can’t dance another step, my feet hurt so badly." She flops down onto the low brick wall at the bottom of the steps and takes a shoe off to rub one of her swollen feet.

"Bren been stomping on them all night?" Wulf grins cheekily at him.

"Ha ha..." Bren laughs dryly, sitting down beside her. "I’m not that bad, and you can't talk anyway. You’re terrible at dancing. Where have you been? And where's Mura? I thought you two would be holed up somewhere for the night."

"I've been in the hall most of the evening, you two just couldn’t take your eyes off each other. It was gross." The edge of fondness in his voice gives away that he doesn’t really mean it. "Mura was tired so I walked her back to her dorm. It was empty so we... made the most of the opportunity. She does this thing with her mouth..."

"Ah, Wulf, stop!" Astrid presses her hands over her ears. To her horror Bren looks mildly interested, but Wulf thankfully doesn’t continue, smirking at them both proudly. She hops down off the wall and puts her shoe back on, starting off down the path towards their dorm building. "We’d better get back too, before we get told off for loitering or something."

"I’ll tell you later. About the mouth thing..." she hears Wulf whisper to Bren conspiratorially after a short pause. She stifles a laugh, turning around to roll her eyes at them both.

"Perhaps I’ll have to ask Mura for some advice." She says with a coy smile, just to see the look on Bren's face. His eyes go wide and his mouth hangs open for a moment, before the shock is replaced by a lopsided grin that makes her want to kiss him till he’s breathless. Worth it, she thinks to herself as she turns and continues on down the path.

Notes:

Harry Potter was severely lacking in hungover teenagers and bunk ups behind the broom sheds amiright?

Chapter 6: Study Buddies

Notes:

Sorry this one took a while, we’re back to real life here after the Christmas break and it took me a while to get one section the way I wanted it. And it’s long too - hopefully that’s a good thing!

A bit more Wulf in this one, and though I’ve stuck as close to cannon as possible so far, I have had to go full head cannon with his backstory. Hoping we get to see more of him and Astrid on stream at some point!

Why can’t they hold exams in the winter? Astrid wonders to herself as her gaze drifts from the page she’s meant to be reading to the window opposite, where a stream of bright sunshine flows through, dust motes sparkling in the hazy golden rays.

She’s torn. On the one hand, the late spring sunshine and fresh air outside are extremely tempting, and she’s pretty sure from past experience she could persuade, nag or if required cajole the boys to get up and go out with her to find a quiet spot to continue their Da'leysen morning study session. But on the other hand, with her head pillowed against Bren's shoulder, warm under the covers with him, it’s hard to think of a really good reason why she would ever want to move from here.

It’s strange to think how far they’ve come in just a few months. How comfortable she is with him already, and how domestic it all feels. It’s all happened so fast, but she supposes that’s what happens when you spend almost every waking hour of every day with someone.

It’s certainly not what she expected when they were selected for the Academy. It was nice to have some vaguely familiar company sure, but she hardly knew either of the boys, only through reputation, gossip, and the usual inevitable encounters of a small town population. Bren and Eadwulf hadn't been well acquainted beforehand either, but upon joining the Academy bonded quickly. From her perspective, they'd just been an unwelcome reminder of home at first. The world was so much bigger than boring little Blumenthal. Full of high expectations and overconfidence in her ability to make her own friends at the Academy, she hadn't spent much time bothering to get to know them.

How wrong she’d been. No sooner had her worn leather case hit the floor of her dorm room, it was as though a target had been placed on her back. She’d tried for a while to make friends with the other girls, but once they knew where she’d come from and that she’d been awarded a scholarship because she couldn’t afford the fees, there had been no hope.

Alone, and dreading the prospect of spending years here isolated and bullied by the other students, she’d naturally gravitated towards Bren and Eadwulf. They’d let her into their little group without a second thought, despite the fact that it must have been obvious to all of them that she needed them more than they needed her.

She nuzzles into Bren's chest a little closer at that thought, that she’s so lucky to have them both. She’d believed when she’d first arrived here that she’d make friendships that would last a lifetime, she hadn’t for a moment considered that they’d been right under her nose all along.

The peace in the room is shattered all of a sudden by a loud growl. She and Bren both jump, looking over to Wulf's bed in time to see him lob his leather bound text book at the opposite wall. It hits with a loud thud, bouncing off and hitting the floorboards spread open, the spine bent back. She notices Bren wince at that, his love of books showing.

"Are you alright Wulf?" She asks tentatively. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stamps one foot hard against the floor. Elbows on his knees, he grips his head in his hands, knuckles going white with the force of it.

"It won’t go in. I’ve tried and tried, but I just can't remember any of it." Her heart clenches at how upset he sounds, almost on the verge of tears. It’s such a departure from his usual cocky, cheerful disposition, she’s stunned into silence.

"Then we’ll help you." Bren offers calmly, shifting beside her to sit up. "If we all go over it together, we can find where you’re struggling and..."

"What’s the point?" He shouts frustratedly, rising from the bed to kick the storage chest at the end of it. "I’m not clever enough to be here! He said I wasn’t, and he was right!"

"No he wasn't." Bren kicks off his blankets and stands to face him. "Your father is a drunk and a bully. You took the entry exams the same as us and you passed them. Of course you belong here."

Astrid puts down her long forgotten book, looking at Wulf sadly. She had already known the gist of the story from the Blumenthal rumour mill, but Bren had filled her in on the full version when their level of friendship had seemed to warrant it.

Wulf's father is a blacksmith, the latest in a long line in their family, their forge having been passed down at least five generations. Naturally, his father had started training Wulf as well. His only son, Wulf's future had been mapped out for him since the day he was born. So when his talent for magic had become apparent, the old man had been less than pleased. His drunken rages were a staple subject of the Blumenthal gossips. She vaguely remembers hearing of a tavern brawl he started once, though for the most part the rumours consist of hushed whispers of the bruises and black eyes his wife and Wulf would often sport.

So when Wulf had been accepted to the Soltryce Academy, the news had gone down like a lead balloon to his father. Predictably, the man had refused outright to let him go. She’d heard that his wife, having tried to plead her son's case, had been beaten so badly the healer had to be called. Wulf had walked out that night, and of an age considered by the Empire as adequate to make his own decisions, had come with them to the Academy with nothing but the clothes on his back, and without his father's blessing.

So it’s easy to understand Wulf's distress at the prospect of failing. It’s not only the abusive words of his father he has to contend with. It’s the knowledge that if he's thrown out, he faces either destitution on the streets or having to beg his father's forgiveness and return to his abusive home.

"Then why is it so difficult?" Wulf asks quietly, large shoulders slumped defeatedly.

"Have you considered that maybe it isn’t?" Both boys look over at her, their confusion plain. "There’s so much at stake for you Wulf, it would be strange if you weren’t feeling stressed. I've seen you work all year and you’re easily at the top of the class with Bren and I." She can see him beginning to calm, considering the logic of what she’s saying. Since her words seem to be having an effect, she continues. "We were chosen on merit alone, our fees and board paid for by the school. Why would they do that without being sure you were up to passing? You’re not stupid Wulf, far from it."

"So why can’t I do it?"

"You can, you’re just stressed. We need to work out how to help you feel less overwhelmed." She smiles encouragingly at him.

"Maybe going to see Mura would help you relax..." Bren shrugs, attempting to feign innocence as though she won’t know exactly what he means. Wulf opens his mouth to answer, already nodding his approval at the suggestion, but Astrid cuts him off.

"I think you’ve seen more than enough of Mura recently to rule that out as a solution... The first thing I think we all need to do is take a break. We’ve been at this for hours. Let’s go into town for supplies."

"Supplies?" Wulf asks unsurely. "I have plenty of paper and ink already and that’s not helped either. What else could we need?"

********

"Right, so let me get this straight." Wulf asks dubiously as they leave the bakery and head towards Eiche Park. "Your plan is for us to eat a ton of sugar while we stay up all night... jamming?"

"Cramming." Astrid corrects around a mouthful or pastry. "And it’s a valid study method."

"Valid according to...?" Bren raises an eyebrow, also taking a pastry.

"Me." She shrugs. "Come on, it’ll be fun. You like sneaking out and nearly getting us all suspended, it’s unlike you to need any encouragement."

"Staying up all night reading is not fun. Especially when what I’m reading doesn’t make sense to me." Wulf grumbles.

"It will. And we won’t sleep until it does." She looks to Bren for back up and is pleased to see him nod in agreement.

Wulf sighs heavily. "The first exam is on Grissen. That’s only two days from now, you should be getting all the sleep you can. I don’t want my failure to drag you both down too." They reach the gates to the park and make their way up the hard packed dirt path towards the large grassed area in the centre. Above them, so high that they’re barely visible, hundreds of red breasted swallows shriek and wheel in the cloudless sky, freshly arrived from the south and heralding the start of the summer. It’s a timely reminder of just how close the end of their first academic year is.

"We don’t think you need any help at all, but you do and that's what matters. So we’re going to help you, whether you like it or not." Bren states firmly, determined. Wulf considers them both for a moment before the corners of his lips quirk in the slightest hint of a smile.

"Thank you. For trying at least."

"Where are we going to do it though? Any ideas Wulf?" Astrid knows to go straight to the expert when it comes to sneaking around after dark. His brows knit together in thought for a moment.

"Obviously the dorms are out, the accommodation building corridors are patrolled too often, the library is locked, so are all of the buildings with classrooms. Assuming we want to stay on the school grounds this time, our best bet is probably the kitchen. Though we’ll have to be out before sunrise, the cooks start the breakfast shift early."

"If you do fail your exams Wulf, at least there’s a career as a cat burglar for you." Bren grins, biting into his pastry. He jumps back as the larger boy makes a half-hearted grab for him.

"Schwachkopf. You’re just jealous of my superior skills... So it’ll be safest to go long after lights out, once everyone else is asleep. Astrid, you’ll have to make it down on your own when it’s all clear in your dorm. Just use the same route I showed you last time." She nods, swallowing down her sudden nerves. "And if we’re going to do this, we're going to need something proper to drink."

"We’re not meant to be getting drunk. I’m not doing that again, not when we have classes in the morning. I can deal with tiredness, but please not another hangover." Astrid puts her head in her hands, the vivid memory of the previous alcohol induced headache still haunting her.

"We won’t drink loads, just a flask's worth. Just to help us stay awake." She looks at him unconvinced, but acquiesces with a shrug. All of her admittedly scant first hand knowledge of alcohol leads her to believe it would do the opposite to keeping them awake, but it’s his study session so she doesn’t argue. She’s just happy he’s onboard. "I’ll go and get it now, I know a place a few streets away. You two might as well stay here, I won’t be long."

She’s noticed he’s been making excuses every now and then to leave them alone together, and she wonders amusedly to herself if that’s his own doing or if Bren has asked him to. Either way she appreciates it, especially with their time so stretched recently with all the extra study.

"You’re great with him you know?" Bren says as they watch Wulf stride off across the grass, back to the path and the streets beyond.

"You make him sound like a child." She chuckles, sitting down on the grass. Bren follows her lead, resting against her side and putting an arm around her back to hold her close.

"He’s just... he’s more vulnerable than he lets on. The situation with his father gets to him more than he’ll admit. Everyone assumes he’s tough because of how he looks and behaves, but a lot of it's just an act. He’s kind, and loyal, and a really good friend."

"Now you’re making him sound like a dog." She smiles fondly. "I know what you mean though. He’s certainly not what I expected when I first started hanging around with you both. Neither of you are I suppose."

"What did you think of me before?"

She laughs, pursing her lips. "My mother warned me about you actually, when I told her you’d been accepted to the Academy too. She warned me about both of you."

He grins at that, raising an eyebrow. "What did she say about me?"

"That you were brash, cocky and manipulative." She reels off from memory, wincing at her mother's harsh judgement. "She called you a heart breaker."

"Wow. I can’t decide if I should be offended or pleased."

"She’s never really spoken much sense. It’s not as though she knows your family well, she just has a lot of opinions and likes to voice them. She’s a vapid, infuriating bore."

"Speaking of opinions... I’m sensing that you don’t get along with her?" He asks, and she can’t tell from his expression whether he’s more amused or concerned.

"Never have, never will. We're completely different people." She answers. "I’ve never heard her say a nice word about anyone, not even me or my father."

"That’s rough. Well I still might break your heart, what if she’s not wrong? You might need to eat humble pie." He teases.

"I’d have to fall in love with you for that to happen." She sighs dramatically, acting out a swoon and falling onto her back to lay in the short mown grass.

"And how am I doing on that score?" He asks quietly, leaning over her to nuzzle their noses together.

Despite his confidence, there’s an edge of vulnerability to the question. She realises for the first time that she really does feel like she’s falling for him. There’s still the niggling doubt put into her head by the logic and reason she values so highly in her studies. She's never considered herself the sort of girl to fall in love this quickly or this young, and it makes her question whether what she’s feeling is real or just the chemical reactions of a teenage brain thrust into an intense situation. But she certainly does feel it, whatever it is, and she can’t deny this has moved far beyond a silly schoolgirl crush. She’s well on the way to falling in love with him, and there’s no point in her pretending she isn’t, however much it scares her.

"Pretty excellently." She whispers to him, weaving her fingers into his hair to pull him down for a kiss. If the smile that lights up his face is anything to go by, she thinks that just maybe he might feel the same way too.

*********

"Ok, last few in this block of questions. What school of magic does False Life belong to?"

"Necromancy, obviously." Wulf grins at her proudly, taking a swig from his flask.

"And the components required?" He holds the flask up and gives it a gentle shake in her direction. "Alcohol, correct." She beams triumphantly. Eadwulf, sat propped up lazily against the row of kitchen cupboards opposite, takes another sip from the flask in celebration.

"We told you it was just your nerves." Bren says, taking a pastry from the bag Astrid brought with her. The orbs of his Dancing Lights above them flicker momentarily as his concentration wanes while choosing one of the little jam filled pastry parcels, the warm glow recovering as he takes a bite.

In the restored light, Astrid notices Wulf's previously renewed confidence has faltered once again, his smile slipping. "Ja, if only they’d let me do the exam after dark in the kitchens with you two and a flask of ale, I’d be fine." 

Astrid considers him sympathetically. "It’s not about where you are, when you do it or who you're with." She reaches to take one of his larger hands in hers. "The point is you can do it. You know this stuff, you’ve studied just as hard as us, you were chosen just the same as us. You underestimate yourself Wulf. You’re not the problem, your confidence is."

His expression warming considerably, he gives her hand a squeeze before withdrawing to lunge at the pastry bag Bren is still holding, the shorter boy laughing as he snatches it just out of his reach. "Uh uh, no more until you finish all of the test questions."

"Come on! I’ve done enough now haven’t I? Astrid? Can’t we at least have a break, we’ve been at it for hours?"

"We’ve not even started on evocation yet..." she sighs at the little whine he makes in protest, rolling her eyes. "Fine. A short break won’t hurt." He grins, lunging for the bag again and this time Bren lets him have it. In return, he passes him the flask, and Bren takes a deep swig before passing it to her. Still traumatised by her recent hangover, she grimaces at it and hands it back.

From the hallway, a sudden creak of floorboards makes them all jump and they peer warily out at the darkness beyond the arched kitchen entryway. A few seconds of eerie silence follows and she starts to relax, supposing it must just have been the old building shifting in the cool of the night. They exchange relieved looks and shrugs.

"I thought Matron was going to burst in yelling for a minute there." Bren exhales harshly with a nervous laugh.

"With her great big frilly nighty and her rollers in. I’d rather see a ghost than that." Wulf grimaces dramatically.

"I bet if she was hot you wouldn’t mind." Astrid smirks, knowing how his mind works, her heartbeat starting to return to its normal pace.

"Oh I’d get caught on purpose." He smiles wryly, dropping his head back against the cupboard and closing his eyes with a wistful sigh. "Madam Safra. Now there’s a teacher I wouldn’t mind getting a caning from."

"Oh Wulf, no...just...no... that is so wrong." Astrid grimaces, but she can’t help laughing. Bren splutters, nearly choking on a swig of ale, holding his chest as he chuckles hoarsely.

Another creak from outside, closer this time, stops their laughter dead.

"You should go and check there’s no one out there." Wulf whispers to her.

"Why me? You go!" She hisses back as quietly as she can manage.

"You’re closest to the door, and this was all your idea..." 

From beside her Bren let’s out an exasperated sigh and gets up, making his way cautiously over to the archway. Astrid and Eadwulf watch in suspense as he peeks his head around the corner before disappearing into the darkness without a word. They look at each other tensely as the seconds tick by.

After what seems like the longest thirty seconds of her life, Astrid starts to move to see where he’s got to, Wulf following her lead, but before they can even get to their feet, in walks Matron, a disparaging glare aimed at the pair of them. Astrid's stomach drops. She stands up fully, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly, looking for an explanation as to why they are down here in their nightclothes in the early hours of the morning. Glancing nervously at Eadwulf he seems to be having much the same problem.

Abruptly, Matron begins to laugh, the sound all wrong. Her face creases in amusement, and it takes Astrid a moment to realise the pitch of the voice is Bren's. She lets out a noise halfway between a sigh and a growl, dropping her head into her hands while Eadwulf collapses back against the counter top with a loud relieved exhale.

"You...!" Is all she can manage breathlessly, pointing her finger at him as he lets the disguise self spell drop, still laughing.

"Arsch!" Wulf growls, though from his grin it’s clear he sees the funny side.

"Technically I’m revising." Bren smirks. She notices for the first time that cradled in his arms is a loudly purring black and white cat.

"Nice pussy." Drawls Wulf dryly.

"I think she belongs to Master Hass. I heard he lets her wander the school grounds at night catching mice." Bren croons at the cat. It arches delightedly in his arms as he tickles it behind the ears. "They like the night, it’s when they’re most active."

"He’s supposed to be moving to Zadash after this term, he’s the new headmaster there. I guess he’ll be taking the cat with him, sorry Bren." She says insincerely, sitting back down with a slight flounce. Bren seems oblivious, his attention fully absorbed in the cat's antics.

"Meow, someone’s jealous." Wulf grins at her.

"Of Master Hass going to Zadash?" She frowns, opening her evocation text book.

"Of the cat Dummkopf."

She laughs just a little bit too quickly. "Why would I be jealous of a cat? You’re the Dummkopf." Bren seems hardly aware of their bickering, smoothly moving to sit cross legged, the little cat rearing up on its hind legs to rub its head against his chin before dropping back against his chest, its purrs steadily increasing in volume.

Wulf, never one to miss an opportunity to take the piss, doesn’t buy her attempted dismissal. "I bet he never rubs you behind the ears like that."

"I don’t want my ears rubbed, thank you." She bristles, keeping her eyes firmly on the book. "Magic Missile, what are the verbal components?"

"I bet you want Bren's magic missile in your..."

"Wulf..." Bren warns without looking up from the cat as Astrid tries to ignore the flush she feels creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. Their larger friend grins smugly, but answers her question all the same.

**********

Astrid wakes with a start at the sound of a loud metallic clanging.

"Rise and shine!" A booming, gravelly voice shouts with a little laugh. "I love doing that... come on, get up and get out."

She blinks her eyes open groggily, wincing at the painful crick in her neck from apparently having fallen asleep slumped against Bren's shoulder. A stocky, apron-clad dwarf stands a few feet away carrying a large cooking pot under one muscular forearm, a wooden spoon brandished in his free hand. He peers at them expectantly. Beside her Bren is propped up against the cupboards wiping a clumsy hand over his eyes sleepily, and off to one side lays Eadwulf sprawled uncomfortably on the tiles, holding his hands over his ears with his eyes scrunched closed. Clearly not seeing enough movement for his liking the dwarf bashes the spoon against the pot again, the harsh noise ringing in her ears unpleasantly. The three of them groan and hold their heads.

"Frans! Stop it, we’re going, we're going..." Eadwulf forces himself to sit up, waving an arm at the dwarf with his eyes still closed.

"About time too. I’ve told you before Eadwulf, you get out of here before I get in for work or you get woken up by Berta." He points at the cooking pot, and Astrid isn’t sure if she’s more confused by his pot having a name, his apparently being on first name terms with Wulf, or the fact that he seems not to have handed them in to Matron. "At least you've got clothes on this time, last time I caught you in here you were with that girl, Manda? Mona?"

"Mura." Wulf yawns. "Ja, that was a good night... but sorry you had to see that."

"I had to scrub this place from top to bottom. You do know I have to serve food from here? I hope everyone kept their clothes on this time round?" He asks suspiciously, eying the three of them.

It takes Astrid a moment to work out what he’s implying, her eyes going wide when she does. Even Bren looks red faced at the suggestion. Wulf snorts a laugh. "No nudity this time Frans, I promise."

Stretching and sore from their awkward sleeping positions, the three friends make their way out of the kitchen, leaving Frans to start prepping for breakfast. As they pass the windows in the corridor on the way to the stairs it's still dark outside, though Astrid can make out the slight lightening of the sky the signifies dawn approaching. She groans as it hits her that it's Miresen, and by the time they get back upstairs and crawl into their beds, they’ll have only around an hour left to sleep before having to go to class all day. Seeing the confidence back in Wulf's demeanour though, she decides it was all worth it.

"Who is that guy Wulf?" Bren asks, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

"Frans, he's one of the cooks. He’s always first in for breakfast service, so we’ve run into each other a few times now. He’s cool. He won’t turn us in."

"Bit mean clanging the pot though." Astrid absent-mindedly rubs the back of her neck where her muscles still feel cramped.

"Yea." Wulf laughs quietly, all three of them drop their voices to a whisper as they near the dorm corridor. "He’s a bit... weird."

"He caught you having sex in his kitchen, that’s enough to make anyone a bit weird." Bren smirks, and Wulf punches him jokingly in the shoulder.

As they arrive at the boys dorm room, Wulf bids her a good rest of the night and ducks inside, leaving her and Bren to have a moment alone. As soon as he’s gone, Bren pulls her in for a soft, lingering kiss. They break apart reluctantly, both exhausted.

"I wish you could come and sleep in my bed." He whispers, toying with a lock of her hair.

"So do I, but at the risk of getting thrown out the day before the exams begin, I think it’s best I don’t." She smiles, kissing him again chastely. 

"I’m so glad summer break is only a few weeks away. No teachers. No Matron. No stupid shared dorm rooms." He grumbles quietly.

"Except for Wulf." She corrects with a smile, recalling the arrangement the boys have for Eadwulf to stay with Bren's family in order to avoid his own father.

"Wulf I can stand. And besides, he’s happy to give us space when we want it." The longing in his voice is hard to miss and as he nuzzles into her neck, she almost gives in and agrees to spend what's left of the night curled up with him in his bed after all. Knowing that it’s a supremely bad idea though, and with just enough resolve to resist the temptation, she forces herself away from him.

"I look forward to that," she smiles tiredly, stifling a yawn with her hand, "but right now we really do need some sleep. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Schatz." Kissing him one last time she heads off down the corridor to her own bed, trying not to think too hard about the prospect of getting to spend an entire summer with him.

Notes:

I’m a sucker for big strong funny dudes with a vulnerable streak and a tragic past 😉

Chapter 7: Letting Off Steam

Notes:

Warning for a leeeeetle bit of smut in this one...

"Five minutes remaining." Master Starek calls disinterestedly, not looking up from the book he's been reading for the past fifty-five minutes.

Astrid bites her lip pensively. She finished writing a while ago but her stomach is still knotted with nerves. It’s not helped by the fact that all around her other students are still completing their papers, many franticly, and while she's aware that it’s to be expected for her to find it easier and therefore finish earlier than most of them, it’s unnerving all the same. Bren and Eadwulf are both seated at desks behind hers, and while the idea of turning to see how they’re doing is tempting, she worries it will make Starek suspicious. Not that he’s been paying much attention to the class during the exam, but with his track record for being hard on the three of them, she decides it's not worth the risk. She instead decides to read over her answers one last time to check for any errors.

"Time's up! Stop writing and lay down your quills." Starek instructs, snapping his book shut. "Bring your papers to my desk in an orderly fashion." Astrid shuffles along with the crowd of students to deposit her paper in a pile with theirs.

And that’s it. Her first year at the Soltryce Academy is finished. She’s a little dazed by that thought, collecting her things and following the crowd out of the classroom, only coming back to herself when she feels a pair of familiar arms wrap around her waist from behind.

"We did it!" She can hear the grin in Bren's voice as he presses a kiss to her temple. She turns, with a smile put on to try and cover her nerves. He sees through it of course. "Did it not go well for you?" He asks, eyes full of concern.

"I think it was fine... you just never know do you? We can’t be certain we’ve actually passed for another week yet." Bren wraps his arms around her a little tighter, holding her against his chest. She feels suddenly guilty for bringing down his good mood.

"The three of us are easily the smartest in that class. And in every other class too for that matter. You’ve nothing to worry about." He assures her.

"I know we’ll be ok, I just really don’t want this to end."

"It has been a pretty great year hasn’t it." He smiles down at her.

"And now, we celebrate." Wulf says, joining them. She and Bren move apart and she can't help but smile for real at the sight of Wulf's grin. He’s practically bouncing off the walls he looks so excited, his pre-exam nerves finally gone. "One week left, no proper classes... we’re so close to freedom I can almost smell it."

Bren eyes him sceptically. "And let me guess. You’ve got a quiet week planned with absolutely no mischief in mind?"

Wulf snorts derisively, his grin widening even more. "Well for a start, we’re getting drunk tonight..."

"No. Nein. Nope. Not after last time..." Astrid interjects, folding her arms and shaking her head.

"Oh yes, ja, yes! We don’t even have to sneak out, every year they give students a free pass to go off campus the night exams end."

"Yes, I know, but..."

"No buts!" She blinks in surprise as he boops her on the nose with his ink stained index finger. "We’re going to an inn tonight, and we’re going to drink too much, and laugh too much, and then maybe we'll go and lay down in a park before we stagger home, but we’re going to have a great night. Trust me!"

************

Exiting their dorm building together a few hours later, Astrid, Bren and Eadwulf join the steady stream of students merrily making their way through the gates of the campus and out into the wide, well paved streets of the Shimmer Ward. The sun has almost set, the sky streaked with pink and the few billowing clouds rimmed with golden light where the last rays hit them.

"This is so surreal." Astrid breathes a laugh, feeling properly free for the first time in months. "I can’t believe they’re actually letting us out at night."

For most of their fellow students this is the first time they’ve ventured out of the campus after dark like this, and the air is full of palpable excitement. They’ve all been given strict instructions to be back in their dorms before midnight, but she thinks that’s rather unlikely with the clear intention of many of the students to drink as much as possible in as short a time as possible.

Catching on to the yearly tradition, many of the inns closest to the campus have laid on entertainment and waved their usual stringent rules on serving younger customers. As a result, it’s not long before the three of them find themselves seated at one such establishment crowded with their peers and with a bard in full swing playing a jolly country tune on a brightly coloured accordion.

With Wulf bringing in their first round, she allows Bren only a quick gulp of his drink before dragging him up to dance. She can tell his weak protests are mostly for show by the huge grin on his face, and he certainly has no complaints when she pulls him in close. The way he looks at her, hungry and a little bit possessive, makes her stomach flutter as she leads him around the small, crowded space that’s been cleared of tables and chairs to form a makeshift dance floor, the tune a traditional old Zemnian folk song.

Bren's hand slides low on her back as he attempts to start leading her in the dance, Astrid giggling against his collarbone. She pulls away from him to spin, displacing his wandering hand and taking back the lead with a wicked grin.

"What’s wrong with me leading for once?" He murmurs against her ear as he pulls her back to him, his voice barely audible over the music and the rowdy crowd.

"Your hold was all wrong, I was simply correcting it." She smirks up at him. He narrows his eyes at her, a smile playing on his lips.

"I thought my hold was perfect actually…" His hand slides slowly down her back again as they move, palm following the path of her spine while his eyes never leave hers in a silent challenge. It’s tempting to give in to him, but she gathers her resolve enough to spin away again as his fingertips brush the curve of her behind, flashing a cheeky smile at him.

His growl when he pulls her back to his chest again is well worth missing out on his touch for. As their game continues, she finds she really quite enjoys teasing him and the unexpected sense of power it gives her. From the flush that blooms on his neck and cheeks he seems to feel the same and while the game remains playful, he becomes bolder with his touches.

As the music begins to slow at the end of the tune, she spins one last time, successfully ducking away from his errant thumb attempting to brush the curve of her breast, but knocking into one of the tables lining the dance floor. She hears a clatter and turns to apologise to whoever is sitting there, finding Ferdinard glaring daggers at her. His well tailored trousers sport a noticeable dark patch from the ale spilling over the edge of the table, a tankard laying on its side in front of him. Of course it would have to be him she thinks, preparing herself for the barrage of abuse inevitably heading her way any second now.

"Clumsy footed cretin! These are probably worth more gold than you’ve ever seen!" He mutters, gesturing at his trousers. He looks up at her, eyes narrowed and mouth twisted in a cruel smile. "The Academy might pay your fees, but no matter how hard they try even they can’t polish a turd."

"What did you say to her?" Bren steps forward, leaning on the table in an attempt at looking threatening.

"Can’t you understand basic Common? Do they not speak it in your backwater village?" Grinning, he turns to his ever present gaggle of hangers-on, seeming satisfied with their accompanying titters at the insult. Astrid glances at Bren who looks furious, more furious than she’s ever seen him. Certainly angry enough to do something he’s going to regret. She takes his arm calmly and urges him away from the table.

"Let's go Bren. Don't let him ruin our night." With his fists clenched and his jaw set with a scowl, she’s relieved when he allows her to lead him away.

"Yes Bren, be a good little bitch and run along." Ferdinard laughs, his entourage giggling along with him. Astrid anticipates Bren's reaction and presses both palms against his chest just in time to stop him from turning and launching himself at the smug elf.

"I’d have apologised to you for knocking over the drink but you’re really not worth it." She says over her shoulder to Ferdinard. As he and his followers erupt into a chorus of sarcastic oooh's, she turns her attention back to Bren. "Look at me." She commands, his eyes flitting down to hers after a few more moments of glaring at the elf over her shoulder. She can feel his heart pounding in his rib cage. "He isn't worth it." She repeats firmly. She walks him backwards a few steps before he turns with a growling exhale and gives in, stalking back to their table.

Wulf, who is busy kissing a giggling Mura in his lap when they return, seems blissfully unaware of the incident. The bench opposite them scrapes loudly on the floor as Bren sits down heavily, startling the pair from their unashamedly public make-out session.

"Hi!" Mura greets them enthusiastically, sliding off of Wulf's lap unceremoniously to sit pressed up against his side, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her blouse is unbuttoned dangerously low, the lace trim of her shift showing.

"What’s wrong?" Wulf asks Bren with a confused frown, looking to Astrid when he gets no response.

"We had a run in with Ferdinard. Nothing to worry about." She explains vaguely before taking a long drink.

Wulf looks at them and raises an eyebrow. "I’ll knock the little weasel out..."

"No you will not." Astrid sighs exasperatedly. "You'll be dragged off by the crownsguard for a night in a cell, he isn’t worth it."

Wulf looks unconvinced, until Mura nods enthusiastically, batting her eyes at him through her dark lashes, one hand squeezing his thigh unsubtly. "Will you dance with me Wulfy?"

Astrid marvels as he smiles down at her, his anger seemingly forgotten in an instant. He wraps an arm around her and leads her out onto the dance floor. She makes a mental note to ask Mura for some tips…

Her attention settles back on Bren who is currently downing the remainder of his tankard. He smacks it down on the table harder than necessary when he finishes, face still sour.

"Thank you for trying to defend my honour, but I’d really rather not have to spend the next year without you when you get expelled for fighting with the son of a lord."

He tuts sourly. "I wouldn’t get thrown out..."

"Maybe not, but you’d get the cane again for sure. Fancy that do you?" She chides, noticing him rubbing his knuckles subconsciously.

"So I’m supposed to just let him get away with talking to you like that because he’s rich and powerful and can do whatever he wants?"

"Yes. It’s not fair, but that’s how status works Bren. That's why we’re here isn’t it? We've been given a chance to make something of ourselves because of our talent. He’s been born into privilege, but if we work hard and don’t get ourselves kicked out," she looks at him pointedly, his cheeks reddening, "we can make a name for ourselves too. We could even end up his superior one day. From quaint, muddy little Blumenthal to the palaces and manor houses of Rexxentrum." She smiles earnestly. She's aware it sounds like a pipe dream, her mother has told her more than once that her head is in the clouds. But she’s never heard of anyone important who got anywhere without ambition, and she has that in spades.

Bren's expression is unreadable for a moment. Finally, his lips quirk into a gentle smile and he leans down to kiss her. The slow, intense affection of it takes her breath away. When he pulls back she feels dazed, as though her brain is swimming through treacle. He takes her hands, pulling her gently to her feet.

"You’re right, he really isn’t worth it. Come on, let’s forget about him and dance."

************

Gasping in breaths between laughs, Astrid flops down heavily onto the bench at their table, Bren joining her equally winded. Her mouth is parched, throat a little raw from having to shout to be heard over the noise of the dance hall, and she downs her last half mug of ale in one go. Bren looks somewhere between impressed and amused when she lowers the cup back to the table, letting her head flop back against the wall tiredly.

They’ve been dancing for hours now, not waltzing like they did at the formal, but wild, fast paced country jigs like those they grew up with. Wulf appears at the table suddenly, chugging down the remnants of his own mug and hurriedly grabbing his cloak from the bench.

"Gotta run, Mura's friend just told her their dorm's empty. So we’re going to go and make the most of that..." He winks, giving them each a sloppy kiss on the cheek before hurrying off to find Mura waiting at the door, stumbling out into the street while kissing her.

"If they make it back to that dorm still fully clothed I’ll be amazed." Bren laughs, watching them leave.

"Young love." Astrid grins after them.

"That’s one word for it." He snorts.

"Do you think he has feelings for her though? Besides the ones in his pants." She asks, grabbing a handful of the roasted chestnuts they’d ordered from the bar earlier, feeling suddenly ravenous.

"I don’t think it’s serious, not for him at least. He always has a few people on the go at once." Bren shrugs, as though this is common knowledge.

"What!?" Astrid coughs, almost choking on a nut.

"Maybe I wasn't meant to tell you that though..." He looks confused and begins counting on his fingers. "How many drinks have I had?"

She laughs. "Four I think. I’ve only had three."

"You’ll have to be the responsible one then. Like usual." He winks at her, and she grins back. "We probably should start heading back, it's getting pretty late."

She looks longingly back at the dance floor. It’s tempting to drag him back up there and ignore her aching feet, but she feels so tired all of a sudden and it must be close to midnight anyway. Gathering up their cloaks, they walk out of the door hand in hand, laughing as Bren stumbles on a loose cobble.

"How sweet. Two country rats scurrying off together."

Astrid sighs heavily and feels Bren tense beside her as Ferdinard's smarmy voice sounds from behind them.

Emboldened by the alcohol, she turns on her heel to look at him, a wide smile plastered on her face. He’s leaning with his back against the tavern wall, one foot up against the stonework and a smirk plastered on his face looking every bit the conceited highborn brat. Beyond him, a small crowd of his followers hover anxiously at the entrance to an alleyway beside the building, the sound of someone throwing up in the darkened passage explaining their presence there.

"Ferdinard, a pleasure as always. Have you had a good evening?" She says pleasantly, taking a few relaxed steps closer to him.

"Apart from having to watch you lot make a spectacle of yourselves all night you mean?" He grins looking back to his followers, though they’re all too drunk and worried for their puking friend to offer him much of an audience.

"It’s called having fun with your friends, you should try it some time. Are you jealous?"

He scoffs a laugh, but even slightly tipsy she can hear the strained edge to it, as though she’s hit a nerve. Interesting… "Hardly. I’d rather be alone than end up scraping the bottom of the barrel with freaks like you."

Bren growls under his breath just behind her. Ignoring him, she laughs along with Ferdinard for a beat, throwing him off. "Here’s the thing though. You can think whatever you like about us, but at least we actually like each other. You'll probably never have anyone who really likes you. Your cheer squad only want you for the social clout. Your family will probably find you a dull little high born spouse who’ll try to avoid you as much as possible, and if you manage to find yourself a lover you’ll have to buy their affection. You’ll never know what it feels like to have someone really, truly desire you for who you are instead of what you have." She purses her lIPs. "I pity you."

Ferdinard stares at her in disbelief for a moment, clearly not expecting such an eloquent outpouring of abuse and looking genuinely hurt. She feels quite proud of herself, if just a little bit guilty. The fury that erupts on his face once his surprise wanes though tells her it may have been a mistake. Bren lets out a harsh laugh behind her, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet street. Even Ferdinard's gaggle of followers now watches the three of them nervously.

The sound of more retching from the alleyway breaks the silence, and Ferdinard seems to snap. His hands shaking with rage begin to move and he starts whispering under his breath, three familiar burning points of Magic Missile blinking into existence, heading straight for her. She reacts immediately, barely casting Shield in time to deflect them. Bren grabs her hand and they turn and run. Behind them, Ferdinard lets out a furious roar and they hear him casting again, the words louder this time. They duck out of the way just in time as a wooden mounting block lands only feet away, splintering into shards on the road.

"That must have been Catapult…." Bren says as they run. "He can’t have much more stamina left to cast."

"Still cantrips to worry about, they take hardly any effort!" She squeaks and flings an arm up over her head out of instinct as a blue-white spray of frost hits the side of the building just above their heads, sending ice shards and flaking plaster over them both. "At least his aim is off because of the drink!" Rounding a corner, they continue full pelt along a smaller side street.

"Crownsguard! Stop, in the name of the King!" She hears shouted from some distance behind them. They both stumble to a halt and turn, Bren stepping in front of her protectively. Now shielded by the buildings of the road they've turned into, they can’t see Ferdinard, but they can certainly hear him.

"Get your hands off me! I am the son of Lord Betrim Matinfreid!" He yells haughtily, his voice strained and slurring.

"I don’t care if you’re the son of King Dwendal himself," they hear one of the crownsguards grunt. "You can’t go flinging magic around like that!" There’s the sound of chains clinking, Ferdinard huffing in speechless indignation. Astrid clamps a hand over her mouth to muffle a laugh. The gruff crownsguard recommences his scolding again. "You could've killed those other kids. Jendra, go and see if you can find 'em, they went up that way."

She and Bren freeze, staring wide eyed at each other for a moment as the sound of heavy booted footfalls approach the entrance to the street. A cheeky grin spreads across his face and before she can even think, they’re taking off again, ducking into yet another side street and out onto the road on the other side of the block. Finding an opening beside a drapers shop, they dart into the maze of alleyways and keep running till they’re far enough from the road that the crownsguard won't find them. They collapse back against a high brick wall, both gasping for breath.

"Why did we run from the guards?" She pants, laughing.

"I don’t know," Bren chuckles along with her, "it's not like there aren’t witnesses who know who we are. It just felt like the right thing to do at the time."

"Or the wrong thing to do. I saw that grin of yours Bren Ermendrud." She teases, flashing him a grin of her own.

"Your mother did warn you about me..."

Her heart pounds in her chest from the exertion and the adrenaline, and looking over at him does nothing to slow it. Even in the dark of the passageway, the moonlight blocked by the looming rooftops above them, she can see his cheeks are flushed red, fringe dark with sweat and chest rising and falling heavily as he catches his breath.

Without a seconds hesitation she fists a hand in his shirt and tugs him towards her. He grunts in surprise but responds quickly, lowering his head to kiss her. It’s a nice enough kiss, but he’s respectful and reserved and it’s not what she wants. She kisses him back hard, letting go of his shirt to grip one of his hips and pull him flush against her, while the other hand threads into his hair.

He exhales a shuddering breath against her mouth as he gets the message loud and clear, tongue slipping past her lips to tangle with her own, one hand moving to grip her waist while the other roams aimlessly, not seeming to know where to touch her first. Without thinking, she rolls her hips against his. He moans into her mouth and presses harder against her, so she does it again, and again, the analytical part of her brain fascinated even though she’s finding it difficult to focus on anything with the way he’s kissing her.

It’s not the first time she’s felt him grow hard, they’ve had enough snatched moments together for her to know how his body responds to hers when given half a chance. But that’s just it - they rarely have a chance for anything to progress past a quick kiss in the hallway as they say goodnight. There’s been no privacy, no time, no opportunity to explore each other properly. So the realisation that they’re finally alone is too good to pass up.

Slipping her hand out of his hair, she reaches between them and tentatively cups him through his trousers. He groans low in his throat and wrenches his mouth from hers to press their foreheads together, eyes closed tight and jaw falling slack as he grinds hard against her palm. His reaction gives her newfound confidence and she tightens her grip on him as best she can with the material still in the way. He begins to thrust in a frenzied rhythm, and she watches with fascination as he falls apart under her touch, his moans sounding obscenely loud in the otherwise silent passageway.

It doesn’t take long for his hips to falter, his moans rising in pitch as his muscles tense. His head drops to her shoulder and she feels him pulse under her hand, his low, rasping groans muffled against her neck.

He collapses almost bonelessly against her, just managing to hold himself up with his hands braced on the wall so as not to crush her. Feeling very smug, she presses a kiss to the sweat soaked hair over his temple. He sighs when she removes her hand from between them, feeling a damp patch forming on the fabric as she does.

"Sorry..." He pants sheepishly.

"What for?"

He raises his head, and she’s surprised to find he looks embarrassed. "Losing control like that, you must think I’m pathetic."

"Pathetic? Why would I think you enjoying yourself is pathetic?" She leans forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. "I loved seeing you like that."

"But you didn’t get to enjoy yourself too." He frowns. She smiles at his flushed skin and mussed hair, and doesn’t feel as though she missed out in the slightest. It's empowering, the realisation that she can do that to him with so little effort. She kisses him again, long and slow, sighing contentedly into his mouth as he sluggishly responds in kind.

"I’m sure you’ll find a way to return the favour over the summer." She says as she breaks away with a wry smile. His own lips quirk upwards, and she swallows hard as she can practically hear the metaphorical cogs in his brain whirring as he considers that very enticing prospect.

In the distance, the bells of the Cathedral of the Dawn Father ring out ominously.

"Midnight. Scheiße." He sighs, pushing himself away from the wall unsteadily.

"At least we'll be back before Ferdinard." She smirks deviously, stretching out her tired limbs.

"Let’s hope we don’t get in too much trouble tomorrow. Who knows what he’s going to tell Master Starek."

"We’ll worry about that in the morning." She says around a yawn. Hand in hand, they make their way back to campus without incident, stopping periodically along the way to sneak kisses.

They part at his door with a kiss that reignites some of their passion from before, a little spark that seems to have boiled over into something new. Something equal parts thrilling and scary as it marks a new chapter in their relationship. Her time at the Academy has been the best time of her life so far without question, but it’s had its dark times too. She realises she’s grown up a lot this past year.

Forcing herself to part with him before they get carried away again, she walks the short distance to her own dorm and falls into bed fully clothed, too exhausted even to change. As she drifts off to sleep, she can’t help wondering what her next year at the Academy will bring.

Chapter 8: Consequences

Notes:

This is your official Icky Thong warning! He makes an appearance this chapter, so raise your cringe shields and brace for goosebumps.

Also, a brief glossary:
Yulisen - Exandrian Saturday
Da'leysen - Exandrian Sunday
Kuhscheiße - bullshit
Scheißkerl - asshole

The accommodation block is eerily quiet when Astrid wakes. Blinking bleary eyed against a beam of bright sunlight hitting her in the face, she can see through the window that the sun is beginning to creep it’s way over the high peaked roof of the library opposite, so she can tell it isn’t early. It shouldn’t be this quiet, even for Yulisen.

A few beds over on the same side of the room, she hears a pitifully groaned, "Too bright..." from one of her room mates, and starts to remember the night before.

Ah. That explains the silence then… she thinks to herself, remembering the nearby inns packed with first year students celebrating the end of exams the night before. She doesn’t feel bad at all, a little delicate perhaps but no killer headache like last time, and that’s quite a relief.

A mattress suddenly creaks across the room followed by the sound of quick padding footsteps, then loud retching from the shared bathroom as one of the girls is sick. A few of the others groan quietly at the sound, turning over in their beds clearly with no intention of helping their friend. Astrid certainly isn’t going to help - they wouldn’t do the same for her after all.

Sitting up and swinging her legs out of bed, she realises she’s still wearing her clothes from last night. Slipping some shoes onto her still stockinged feet, she pads quietly over to the door.

The boy's dorm is even quieter than hers, though there is a dull chorus of gently snuffling snores from a few of the beds. Making her way over to Bren's, she lifts the covers and slides in beside him. He shifts sluggishly onto his side to hold her, an arm coming to rest over her waist as she faces him, a sleepy smile on his face. It’s become a bit of a routine now, her slipping under the covers with him on weekend mornings while he has a lie in. She’s quickly learnt to use his languishing in bed to her advantage, rather than trying to convince him and Wulf to get up before midday on Yulisen and Da'leysen.

"My head is killing me." He whispers to her after a while, apparently having woken up properly.

"You were a little tipsy last night. It’ll pass." She brings a hand up to rub soothing patterns over his scalp, and he rests his forehead against hers with a contented sigh. The by now familiar presence of his morning hardness resting against her stomach prompts a sudden flashback to their antics in the alleyway last night, making her grin.

"What are you looking so happy about?" He asks suspiciously.

"Just remembering what we got up to last night..." She whispers, nuzzling his nose. His cheeks heat but his smirk is anything but bashful as he goes to kiss her.

"What did you two get up to last night hmm?" Wulf asks from the bed closest to Bren's, his voice thick with sleep still but obviously amused. Their eyes widen as they both scrabble for an explanation.

"We... got Ferdinard arrested." Bren blurts out. Astrid's shoulders slump in relief till she remembers they actually sort of did and that there are bound to be consequences to that...

"You what!?" Wulf shouts, sitting up abruptly in a muddle of blankets and sheets, his pillow tumbling to the floor. Bren winces at the noise, head ducking under his quilt in protest.

"Shutup!" Someone whines from across the room, accompanied by a chorus of groans from the other boys in the dorm.

"Sorry, sorry..." Wulf makes a hushed apology, huddling as close to Astrid and Bren as he can across the gap between the two beds, voice a loud whisper. "What the fuck? Details!"

"It wasn’t quite like that..." Astrid leans up on one elbow to see him better over Bren, who is still yet to emerge from his blankets. "We had a slight disagreement, and he didn’t take it well..."

"Kuhscheiße." Says Bren, muffled by the quilt that he promptly shrugs off, rolling over onto his back to look at Wulf. "She was amazing. It was literally the best thing I’ve ever seen."

"What did you say to him?" Wulf asks eagerly.

She winces as she recalls the gist of it, vowing for the second time this term never to drink again. "Basically that his friends only like him for his money and no one will ever love him."

Bren laughs, clamping a hand over his mouth to try to keep the noise down. Wulf opens his mouth wide, somewhere between shocked and overjoyed.

"Astrid, you said all that?" She nods sheepishly.

"Not my finest hour."

"Like I said, Kuhscheiße. She was brilliant." Bren grins up at her, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear affectionately.

Wulf makes a gagging sound, grinning when Bren glares at him. "But how exactly did he end up getting arrested?"

"He tried to kill us." Bren shrugs nonchalantly.

"That’s a bit overdramatic." Astrid smiles at his eyebrow raised in response. "He was drunk and angry, so he started firing off spells at us."

"And if any of them had hit us, we would have been badly hurt or worse. We could have died Astrid." She bites her lip at the realisation that he’s right, and suddenly it all seems a lot more serious. "The crownsguard must have been patrolling nearby and came to see what was going on. They dragged him off and we ran."

"Scheißkerl. I bet he won’t even get expelled, his father will bribe his way out of trouble and he’ll carry on like nothing ever happened." Wulf says sourly, eyes narrowed.

"We’ll see. They’ll probably want to talk to us about it. No doubt he’s already been spilling his guts trying to blame us." Bren sighs, rubbing his eyes wearily with the back of one hand. Astrid swallows hard beside him, his other hand finding hers under the covers to link their fingers together.

"Sorry your night was a bust." Wulf consoles, falling onto his back again to stare up at the ceiling. She and Bren exchange smirks in silent acknowledgement that the end of the night wasn’t all bad.

"Do I want to ask how the rest of your night went?" Bren asks him warily, and Astrid prepares herself for far too much information from their friend.

Wulf huffs a little laugh. "Uhh... not as well as I’d hoped actually..."

Astrid opens her mouth to ask why but is interrupted by a sharp rap on the door. The unmistakable knock of Matron. With a squeak, she dives under the covers in an attempt at hiding that she knows is doomed with so little warning, but she has to at least try. In her defence, Matron never usually bothers them at the weekend. Probably too busy kicking puppies or something...

"Master Bren," the old woman says as she enters, in that sickly sweet way that tells them she’s there because they’re in trouble. "...Miss Astrid." Her voice deepens in contempt. Astrid pokes her head out from under the quilt and gives the woman her most winning and apologetic smile. Wulf snorts a laugh and Matron's attention snaps to him, eyes ablaze with anger. "You can wipe that grin off your face Master Eodwulf after what I caught you doing last night!" There’s a collective groan around the room at the noise level as she shouts shrilly at him, and this time it’s Astrid who has to hastily hide a laugh. There's that mystery solved then... "Mark my words, I’ll be back to address that once I’ve finished with these two, so you can consider yourself under house arrest till I get back. Do not leave this room, understood?"

Wulf nods defeatedly, shrugging at Astrid and Bren when Matron turns back to them, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Your head of year and the Archmage of Civil Influence wish to speak with you. Follow me at once." She turns on her heel to leave, the two of them exchanging worried looks as they scramble out of the little bed to trail behind her.

"Good luck." Wulf whispers to them as they leave.

When they reach Master Starek’s office, Matron raps on the door and waits to be told to enter, unlike when she knocks on the dorm room doors. “Master Starek, Archmage. The two students whose presence you requested.” She ushers them in impatiently before curtsying subserviently to the two senior figures and promptly closing the door behind her as she leaves.

Ferdinard is already there looking disheveled, tired, and absolutely seething. Despite her nerves, she can’t help but feel some satisfaction from seeing him in such a state. Then she remembers her own unkempt hair and creased, slept-in clothing and the victory seems less sweet. Starek is perched on his desk with his arms folded and looking cross, though she doesn’t recall having ever seen him not looking cross so that doesn’t mean much. Behind him, seated on Starek's leather studded chair, is a severe looking middle aged man with long, lank hair greying at the roots, clad in fine dark robes and with his hands neatly folded in his lap. She assumes this is the Archmage Matron mentioned, and averts her eyes in the vague hope of not attracting his attention.

"What an interesting tale I’ve been hearing of your shenanigans last night. Let’s hear it then. What have you got to say for yourselves?" Starek asks briskly.

Astrid quickly jumps in before Bren can lose his cool and say something he’ll regret later. "There was a verbal disagreement between myself and Ferdinard," she just about manages to say his name without gritting her teeth, "which led to him attacking us with magic in the street, Master."

"They attacked me first Sir! I acted in self defence only!" Ferdinard shouts, earning a narrow eyed look from the Archmage. He seems to shrink back under the man's gaze, his mouth set as he tries to recover by sticking his chin in the air loftily.

"We did not Master Starek, I swear it. The only spell either of us cast was Shield." She protests, trying to keep her composure. Beside her she can feel how tense Bren is just by his stance, but he remains silent.

"I find that very hard to believe. You have been disciplined before for attacking Master Ferdinard, have you not? You expect me to believe he set upon you both for no reason?"

"There were words exchanged... but that was all Sir, the guards can confirm..."

"Enough! You should know that the allegations against you both are extremely serious. Made worse by the fact that you fled the scene of the incident before the crownsguard could get hold of you. If that doesn’t prove your guilt I don’t know what does!" Astrid feels hot, angry tears prick in the corners of her eyes and tries to swallow them down before they can spill. "Master Ferdinard, of course you should not have retaliated. Using magic against your fellow students, regardless of the circumstances and in the streets no less, was regrettable. But I think that given you have spent the night in a cell, you have suffered quite enough and are therefore excused."

Bren huffs mirthlessly. When she looks up at him she finds him biting his cheek, eyes raised to the ceiling, angry but defeated. Ferdinard stands and makes his way out, fixing her with a smug grin as he passes her.

"As for the pair of you," Starek continues when Ferdinard has left, "you are a disgrace to the Academy. Your behaviour, your conduct, your blatant disregard for the rules. One would think that having been plucked from nothing you would desire to make the most of such an incredible opportunity, but you seem determined to squander it! You give me no option but to expel you both!"

"Master Starek." The Archmage interrupts, holding up a hand. Starek pauses, conceding immediately to the other man's authority. "I appreciate that your position grants you some level of authority over first year students, but the decision to expel pupils must first be agreed by the headmaster himself or by another member of the Assembly where relevant, is that not the case?"

Starek seems momentarily stunned. "Well... yes Master Ikithon but... forgive me, are you not in agreement?"

"As the Archmage of Civil Influence, this incident was of course brought to my attention first thing this morning due to its very public nature."

"Yes, of course Archmage..."

"And as such, an account from the crownsguard captain responsible for the arrest was sought to determine the details of the incident. You were here when that account was given in this very office not half an hour ago, were you not."

"I was Archmage..."

"I do not recall the captain recounting any detail which incriminated these two students, save that they could not be apprehended."

Starek's mouth opens and closes a few times, the tips of his ears flushing. "Master Ikithon, we do not know the circumstances leading to Master Ferdinard's actions, they could well have been made in self defence as he insists..."

"Three offensive spells discharged at two fleeing children does not seem to me to be a defensive exercise. If that is what you are teaching your students, perhaps it’s no surprise that incidents like this happen. Regardless, without proof that these two students actually committed any offence, expelling them would seem unfair, would it not."

The Archmage's cool gaze makes clear that his question is rhetorical, and Master Starek seems to almost physically shrink as he bows his head submissively. "Yes, Master Ikithon."

"I’m glad we agree." Archmage Ikithon rises smoothly from his seat and addresses Astrid and Bren directly for the first time. "I hope I will not hear of any more unfortunate incidents involving yourselves before the term is concluded, especially when your test results show so much potential. Do not disappoint me... You are both dismissed."

Offering hastily mumbled thanks, they flee the office as quickly as they can, both breathing loud sighs of relief as soon as the door closes behind them.

"I wouldn’t celebrate just yet if I were you." Matron's sharp, thready voice makes them both jump as she appears to one side of them in the hallway. "You will accompany me back to the accommodation block where I will hand out an appropriate punishment to you, Master Eadwulf and Miss Mura. Come along now."

Bren groans quietly and takes her hand as they follow the older woman once more. "We can’t catch a break today." He whispers to her.

"On the contrary, Master Ikithon just gave us a huge break." She smiles at him.

"Ja, true. And it looks like our test results were as good as we hoped. Did you see Starek? I thought he was going to explode." Bren chuckles under his breath. Astrid giggles, earning a sneering backward glance from Matron.

On the way back to the boy's dorm Matron stops to collect Mura from hers on the floor below, and exchanging only grim smiles in greeting, they ascend the stairs in silence. The boy's room is quiet once again, Wulf and all of the other boys occupying it having made the most of the peace to go back to sleep. Instructing them to wait in the corridor, Matron strides over to Wulf's bed and throws his covers back roughly. He sits up with a start, blinking in the brightly sunlit room as he scrubs a hand through his hair.

"Come along Master Eadwulf. Quickly." She says loudly enough to make him grimace. He obeys sluggishly, snatching a shirt up from the floor and throwing it on as he follows her out. Joining them in the corridor, he winks at Mura who beams as she bats her lashes at him.

"What happened?" He whispers to Astrid and Bren as they follow Matron back down the corridor again.

"Disaster averted. Just… Tell you later." Bren whispers back with a sigh.

Matron leads them briskly down to the kitchens, and suddenly Astrid understands. The pile of dirty breakfast dishes beside two enormous ceramic basins set into the worktop gives her a pretty good clue as to what their punishment is. Wulf sighs, rolling his eyes. This is not his first rodeo after all, just the latest in a long line of inventive punishments Matron has dolled out to him over the past year.

"When you first arrived you were told that while student relationships are permitted, physical contact of a romantic nature is strictly prohibited on school grounds, were you not?"

"Yes Matron." They mumble collectively.

"And yet all of you have chosen to ignore this rule. Some more brazenly than others..." she glares at Wulf, who tries his best to look abashed but fails miserably when a smirk slips onto his face. Matron sighs irritably. "Next year I expect to see a marked improvement in your behaviour. I have a whole summer to think up punishments, and believe me, it will give me immense pleasure to inflict them on you should the need arise. For the last week of term, all four of you will be on washing up duty, breakfast, lunch and dinner. But first…"

They exchange concerned looks, watching as Matron gestures towards four mugs on the counter top. She hands one to each of them with a twisted smile. Astrid looks at the insipid, puce liquid inside and nearly gags.

"It smells like cabbage." Wulf complains, pinching his nose. "Please don’t tell me we have to drink this..."

"You do." Matron stands with her arms crossed watching them sternly, though Astrid is surprised to see something akin to concern in her expression too. "You are all aware, I presume, of the risks of unprotected sex."

Astrid blushes, fixing her eyes on the tea with a little nod.

"Then you will understand that protecting yourselves is imperative if you are going to decide to break the rules. Pregnancy is easily prevented by the ingestion of certain herbs, such as those in this brew, that you can obtain from any apothecary. Don’t be put off by the taste, this is my own invention and it’s meant to be unpleasant in the vain hope that I only have to give you this speech once." She gives Wulf a long suffering glare. "Any infections or diseases can be treated for a little coin at most temples. But please, understand how important it is that you are responsible. It’s all fun and games till you find yourselves up to your eyeballs in soiled nappies or genital warts." She offers them all a surprisingly motherly smile, before clapping her hands together enthusiastically. "Now drink up."

For about three seconds, Astrid considers that given her very heartfelt advice, maybe Matron isn’t so bad after all. Until she tastes the tea. Matron watches them like a hawk as they splutter and grimace their way through their respective mugs until every last drop is gone. Taking their cups to the sink, they start tackling the mountain of washing up, Matron leaving them to it after a few minutes.

"I wouldn’t mind," Astrid begins, still wincing at the lingering taste in her mouth, "but we didn’t even... you know. I was fully clothed. I only came in for a cuddle."

"Cuddles are strictly prohibited!" Wulf shrieks, mocking Matron's voice. "We didn’t either, she caught us before the good bit." He grins lewdly at Mura, who blows a handful of bubbles at him.

"How many times have you been caught this year Wulf?" Asks Bren, drying a seemingly never ending stack of plates. The larger boy tilts his head, narrowing his eyes in thought.

"Nine I think."he answers eventually. Mura bristles a little beside him. "But the best were with you obviously." He ventures, attempting to recover the situation. The other girl huffs, but acquiesces when he kisses her on the cheek, rewarding him with a simpering smile. Settling in to get through the dishes, Astrid can’t help but feel a little bit sorry for Mura, knowing that Wulf is leading her on.

The rest of the week drags, their dish duty taking up so much time that it’s barely worth even trying to get out of school to enjoy the sunshine. Astrid is consoled at least by the thought that they have a whole two months off together starting in just a few days, but being cooped up indoors with such a monotonous task certainly does make her think long and hard about the dangers of getting caught with Bren next year. She begins to contemplate ways to avoid discovery, which she’s quite sure was the complete opposite of what Matron had in mind when she doled out this punishment, and that only makes Astrid feel more determined to get the better of her.

The breakfast session of the last day before the holidays are due to begin, all four of them are uncharacteristically subdued. Even Frans comments on it as he goes about his duties preparing for the upcoming lunch service.

"Why are you all moping? Cheer up, school's out tomorrow."

"Results day." Wulf answers sombrely, and that’s all the explanation Frans needs. He hurries off with a little nod and a mumbled "Good luck", not exactly instilling any of them with confidence.

Once the dishes are all washed and dried, unusually reluctant to leave the kitchens, they make their way to the banquet hall where the results are being handed out. Climbing the stone steps to the imposing building, Astrid's mood is a far cry from the excitement she felt just a few short months ago when the formal was held here. The space inside is back to its usual cold, grey, bare walls to emphasise the point.

With her and Bren's results almost guaranteed to be good from what Master Ikithon had said, Astrid's nerves had considerably mellowed over the past week. But Wulf's results still hang in the balance, and the prospect of him not returning for second year is too awful to comprehend.

They join the line of students filing slowly toward the front of the hall where a long table has been set up, teachers handing out rolled pieces of parchment from four points labelled a-f, g-l, m-r and s-z. The queue splits four ways as they near the table, students moving to their designated lines according to name.

Before heading off to her queue, Mura makes a big show of kissing Wulf farewell, as though any student found to have failed will be immediately dragged from the hall and never heard from again. Wulf goes along with it, but looks bemusedly to Astrid and Bren once she’s gone.

"She actually likes me doesn’t she." He states dejectedly. "It's just meant to be a bit of fun. Why are girls such weirdos? I’ve never had a boy get attached to me like that…"

"Pfft..." Astrid begins, her retort dying on her lips as the student ahead of her moves to the table to collect their scroll, and suddenly it's her turn. Bren squeezes her hand briefly in support before she heads up to collect her own. The teacher roots around in the box in front of her for a moment before handing her the piece of rolled parchment disinterestedly. She takes it and heads towards the exit to wait for the others outside.

When all three make it back out to the steps, they take a collective breath and unbound them, speed reading down the lengthy page of scores and class marks to the only thing they care about. As expected, she’s relieved to see it confirmed in black and white that she passed, but her attention quickly turns to Wulf. He stares at the parchment in silence, seeming stunned.

"Well?" Bren asks warily.

Wulf looks up at them and grins. "Looks like we’ll all be coming back for round two." He laughs, pulling them both in for a bone crushing hug.

Astrid can only laugh, overjoyed at the prospect of what the next year might hold in store for them.

Notes:

Summer break time! Perfect for fun, teenage romance, a little drama... and for me to kick you in the feels a bit 🙊

Thank you so much for your lovely comments and kudos so far, they are so very appreciated! xx

Chapter 9: Coming Home

Notes:

Finally managed to finish and edit this chapter, sorry for the wait!
Trigger warning for brief discussion of violent abuse in this one.

And some translations, mostly consisting of made up place names, family, and swearing, because who doesn’t want to learn more about that? (Disclaimer, my three years of learning German at school did not cover much of this stuff sadly, so if anyone reading this is a native German speaker, I can only apologise for my inevitable mistakes!)

Krumme Lake - Crooked Lake
Krähe Farm - Crow Farm
Felsbrocken Hills - Boulder Hills
Weißer Drache - White Dragon
Mutter - Mother
Vater - Father
Oma - Grandmother
Scheiße - Crap
Hurensohn - Son of a whore
Wertloses Stück Scheiße - Worthless piece of shit
(Wow, that list started off so wholesome and ended on a real low...)

"Astrid... Astrid?"

She wakes with a start, confused for a moment as her brain struggles to catch up through the fog of sleep. The first thing she notices is that she’s moving, a bumpy jarring motion that makes her feel ill. Forcing her eyes open, she squints in the dim light and finds Bren looking down at her with a small amused smile, her head pillowed against his shoulder. Finally shaking off the worst of her sleep-addled daze, she remembers that they’re in a carriage heading home.

"How long have we been on the road?"

"A few hours. We're nearly there now, that’s why I woke you." Bren presses a kiss to her forehead and helps her to sit upright, rolling his shoulder and stretching as best he can in the confined space. The carriage is cramped and shabby, but considering the Academy is paying for it they can’t really complain.

Eadwulf is lounging on the padded bench opposite, reading a text book and looking thoroughly bored. His foot taps restlessly, something Astrid has noticed he does much of the time but particularly when he’s nervous.

Still groggy and feeling unwell with the excessive rocking motion of the poorly maintained carriage, she focuses her attention outside, peering through the tiny grimy window pane in the door on her side. Countryside she recognises rolls past, the cedar woods along the edge of the northern road, a small stream meandering through the ditch to the other side of them that she knows leads eventually to Krumme Lake. Beyond the stream lies the fertile meadows of Krähe Farm, it’s fields a tall sea of rich grass almost ready to be cut for hay and the modest freshly whitewashed farmhouse all the more stark against the looming shadows of the low Felsbrocken Hills in the distance.

It’s been months since she was last home for winter break, but she feels largely the same now as she did then, an odd sense of not really belonging here any more. She grew up with this scenery for sixteen years, but it feels alien to her now.

The forest on the other side of the road gives way to more sprawling farmland, a mosaic of gently sloping green and brown fields populated by various crops and grazing animals as far as the eye can see. And there, tucked into a broad river valley amongst the fields, is the familiar sight of Blumenthal. The road veers sharply to the right as the carriage begins its descent towards the town, the efficiently farmed pastures of the planes above giving way to vast sloping meadows of vibrant wildflowers in full bloom, giving the town its name.

The first dwelling they pass is the grand white stone Blumenthal manor, set high up on the valley side away from the town's masses. Astrid has never even seen the Lord who owns it, he visits infrequently and has his official residence in Rexxentrum, according to her mother. She also knows he has two sons, both of whom her mother has identified as legitimate options as suitors for her should they ever become resident here. It dawns on her once more that she’s going to have to spend months living with the insufferable woman again, and she almost groans out loud.

The next set of dwellings they come to, separated from Blumenthal Manor's parklands by a sparse smattering of trees amongst the wildflower meadows, are the tiny schoolhouse, a collection of ancient looking cottages, and the blacksmith's forge.

She looks back to Wulf as they pass by, noticing him staring blankly into his book and biting his bottom lip hard, pressed as far into the little bench as his large frame will allow. She takes his hand, and is glad when he doesn’t pull it away as he might have done when they made this journey in the winter, before they were as close as they now are. Bren scowls as he looks out of the window on his side of the carriage when the forge rolls past, his contempt for Wulf's father clear.

Next on the road comes the mill, the old stone building built into the banks of the river which cuts through the entire length of the valley floor, it’s enormous algae covered oak wheel turning steadily with the water's flow.

The river crosses the path of the road here, a wide stone bridge spanning it in a low arc. Across this bridge the number of buildings increases sharply, until houses run almost uninterrupted along both sides of the road and small side streets and lanes begin to split off from it. The main square comes into view, barely changed since the last time she saw it, albeit not now covered in a blanket of grey slushed snow. The carriage comes to a jolting stop alongside the Weißer Drache, the largest of the town's three inns, and Astrid's stomach is very grateful for the halt in momentum.

"Are you alright Wulf? We could ask if the driver might drop us closer to mine?" Bren asks hesitantly. Further from your father's place she knows he means.

"No, it’s alright. The walk will be good after being cooped up for so long." Wulf sits up straight with a deep sigh, flexing his shoulders and rubbing his neck wearily. "We can help you home with your bags on the way Astrid."

"I won’t turn down that offer, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to traipsing them up the slope alone." She smiles at him, opening the door. With the driver's help, they fetch their bags down from the luggage rack on the roof and load up like pack horses, setting off in the direction of her parent’s house.

Situated halfway up a steep lane, the house while moderate in size is almost as immaculately kept outside as Blumenthal Manor, and vaguely resembles it. The wooden weather boards are painted brilliant white, and there is a stone path flanked by short trimmed grass leading up to the front door. Two potted laurels either side of the front porch are a new addition she notes, grousing under her breath at how ridiculous the place looks.

"Wow." Comments Bren, setting down her bag which he had been holding. "The Lord of Blumenthal Manor might get confused and end up here if he ever comes back." He smirks at her.

"Don’t." She groans. "Two months with the woman. I’m not sure how I’ll cope."

"I’m going to miss being so close to you all the time." He says sadly, taking her in his arms.

"That’s my cue to leave. See you Astrid." Wulf drops her other bag and scarpers a little way back down the lane to wait for Bren.

"Bye Wulf." She calls after him distractedly, her head resting against Bren's chest as they hold each other. "Can I come and see you every day?" She asks, only realising how pathetic it sounds when the words have already left her mouth.

"You’d better." He replies, and her stomach flutters warmly.

She tilts her head up and presses her lips to his, the kiss deepening quickly to a long, slow slide of tongues that neither of them are in a hurry to break. Eventually she pulls away, cheeks flushed, hair mussed, and missing him already.

"I’d better go before my mother sees us together. I’ll have to tell her about us at some point, but she'll never let me hear the end of it I expect. See you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." He confirms, kissing her one last time before turning reluctantly to meet up with Wulf. 

She watches them go until they round the bend at the top of the hill, gathering up her bags before heading to the door. It opens before she has a chance to knock, her mother looking down at her sternly. Great, that’s the cat out of the bag...

"Cavorting with the Ermendrud boy in public like that... I raised you better Astrid, honestly! What will the neighbours think?"

"Hello Mutter. Nice to see you too." She grouses, trudging past her into the hallway with her bags.

"I told you he was trouble. Why don’t you ever listen to me?"

"I’m seventeen, I can make up my own mind."

"Don’t be smart with me! Oh Astrid..." her shoulders slump melodramatically. "You could do so much better. Why do you have to lower yourself to a no good farmhand?"

"He’s not a farmhand! He's studying the arcane arts at the Academy, remember? And he’s actually really good at it, better than me even..."

"Until he drops out or worse gets himself thrown out. He hasn’t the aptitude for it, you mark my words." Astrid barely hides a wince. There was no way she was ever going to tell her mother how close they both came to being expelled, but now she’s even more determined that the woman never finds out as she continues her tirade. "Please don’t tell me you’ve allowed him to defile your maidenhood?"

"Mutter!" She covers her face with her hands and knows she’s flushing crimson under her fingers. "Who even calls it that!"

"Well have you?"

"Nein!"

The sitting room door squeaks open, her father entering with a gentle smile. "Ah, Astrid you’re home. I could tell by the noise."

"Hello Vater..."

"You make sure you keep it that way." Her mother continues to scold her, ignoring her father completely. The mild mannered man purses his lips before scuttling back off into the sitting room meekly, ever keen to avoid her mother when she’s in one of her moods. "I’ve a mind to write a strongly worded letter to the Academy about this. Encouraging who knows what sort of behaviour, allowing students to fraternise, and fornicate..."

"You do that." Astrid mutters, pushing past her mother to take her things upstairs.

"Young lady I am not finished with you! That boy is not to step foot inside this house, do you understa-" Astrid hears before slamming her bedroom door closed behind her. Dropping her bags and falling onto the bed, she screams into her pillow frustratedly. 

************

"Sounds like you had a great welcome home." Wulf smirks when she meets up with the boys the next day. The weather is predictably wet and miserable for the first day of the holidays, so they’ve taken shelter in the run down old barn on Bren's parent's farm. The chickens have had the same idea, and Astrid shoos one away as it pecks at her shoelace, still in a bad mood after her mother's rant.

"Don’t, it was awful. I had to skip breakfast and climb out of my bedroom window to avoid her this morning. She said she’s going to write a letter to the Academy about them encouraging us to have sex and stuff." Wulf let’s out a booming laugh, almost falling off his hay bale seat. The chickens scatter in fright, retreating to the far end of the leaky barn in a flurry of red and brown feathers. "It’s not funny Wulf!" But she can’t help her lips quirking into a small smile at his reaction, conceding that it actually is kind of funny.

"I’m sorry it went badly, I didn’t mean to get you into trouble." Bren squeezes her hand, leaning into her side comfortingly from his position beside her on the top of the log store.

"It wasn’t your fault, my mother is just horrible. I think I actually hate her. Oh, and you’re not allowed in my house by the way."

"You’ll just have to come here more often then." He smiles at her affectionately. She smiles back shyly and leans up to kiss him.

"Urgh... you two are definitely going to have fucked by the end of the holidays." Wulf grins at them both. "Just let me know if you need me to make myself scarce for a while." Astrid makes a choked sound, her eyes going wide.

"So are you missing Mura already Wulf? How many people are you seeing at the moment?" Bren retorts with his own grin. Wulf doesn’t look in the least bit ashamed, in fact he looks positively chuffed with himself. 

"Three now. It’s getting a bit much if I’m honest, I’ll be glad of the break."

Bren snorts, Astrid sighing despairingly. "And no doubt you’ll find someone to pursue while we’re back here."

"Astrid, you underestimate me. Just the one?"

"Do try to remember they have fathers here who’ll knock your head off if they find out. And that it’ll reflect badly on my parents if you start screwing your way around Blumenthal while you’re staying under their roof." Bren reminds him pointedly, and Wulf does actually have the presence of mind to look sheepish at that.

"Right. Fair point. I’ll have to be extra sneaky." Bren shoots him a withering look. "I’m kidding, I’ll behave." I’ll believe that when I see it, Astrid thinks to herself. "So are we going to spend the whole of the holidays cooped up in here with the chickens?"

"It’s raining." Astrid replies seriously.

"And? Will you melt in the rain? We’re Zemnian, rain is nothing to us."

"Alright smart ass. I’d rather not get soaked if I can avoid it. It’s not even been one day, you can’t be bored already?" She asks incredulously. He jumps down from his hay bale, stretching.

"Once again, you underestimate me." He grins at her, shrugging. "I’m pretty much always bored."

"What do you propose we do?" Asks Bren, leaning back against the barn's cladding, not looking in a particular hurry to go out in the rain. Astrid wonders when they became so sedentary, so used to creature comforts given their pretty wild upbringing out in all weathers every day. After wanting so badly to be all grown up when she was younger, she feels a sudden pang of sadness at the realisation that at sixteen and seventeen, their childhoods are all but over. She doesn’t feel ready.

"Race you to the top of the paddock?" Wulf answers after a moment's thought. Bren looks unconvinced, and while Astrid initially has her doubts, her thoughts on their dwindling childhood give her a sudden change of heart. One day soon they’ll all have to grow up, but not today. 

Without warning, she throws herself off the log store and sprints out into the rain. She hears Wulf's surprised yelp, his footfalls following close behind once he gets over his shock, Bren adding a third set of squelching steps to the race soon after. She laughs as the rain pelts her, the summer warmed droplets far more pleasant than she expected in the humid air. Considering her height, she’s faster than she looks but even with her brief advantage, Wulf still just manages to beat her in the end with his much longer strides. They skid to a halt in the mud at the paddock fence, red faced and laughing as they catch their breath.

"Nice of you to join us." Wulf teases as Bren catches them up a good ten seconds after they finish, having obviously given up trying to keep pace with them almost as soon as he left the barn.

"I know when I’m beaten. So now that we’re already soaked, what did you plan on doing next?" He asks, climbing up to sit on the fence.

"Not a clue. Astrid? You’re good at ordering us about, what are we doing now?"

She opens her mouth to protest before proudly realising that he’s right and shrugging in agreement. "We could walk down to the river and try to catch fish at Bard's Rock? Like you said, we’re wet already. Why not start the holidays with a traditional Zemnian past time. And that way, maybe my mother won’t skin me alive for coming home in this state with no explanation." 

In the absence of any better ideas, the boys agree and the trio heads down the valley through the wooded hills that separate Bren's small family farm from the town proper. Reaching the shaded path that runs parallel with the torrent of water, they follow it until they reach a sharp kink in the river, the effect of the bank almost doubling back on itself slowing the torrid flow to a gentle meander. Here, the shallows are home to plentiful fish and this spot has long been the venue for the town's traditional hand catching competition, held every summer. In Astrid's experience, it’s mostly an excuse for the men of the town to get blind drunk and mess around in the river for a few hours, but many of them seem to take it extremely seriously, her own father included.

But it’s the story of this place that’s much more interesting to her than their beer fuelled shenanigans. Bard's Rock was apparently, according to local legend, the site of a torrid love affair between a bard and a druid, hundreds of years ago. A tale of forbidden love, longing and ultimately tragedy, it had been one of her Oma's favourite stories to tell when she was a little girl. Though it was only when the subject came up many years later with her giggling girl friends that Astrid had heard the full unabridged and shockingly filthy version, with all the sordid details thrown in. 

As a result, the rock itself had over time become a popular spot for liaisons between young lovers in the town, and thus the setting for much of her friend's most salacious gossip. Glancing skeptically at the flat topped, moss covered rock, Astrid can think of plenty of places she’d rather be intimate with someone.

"Go on then Wulf. Get it out of your system." She hears Bren sigh, turning to see their large friend grinning up at the rock.

"Berda Bäckerin, last winter break. First time I gave a girl an orgasm. It was a proud moment." Wulf sighs happily. Bren immediately bursts out laughing, and at this point Astrid suspects he’s encouraging Wulf on purpose.

"I will never be more traumatised than I am right now." Astrid says dryly, clambering up the stony bank below Bard's rock for a good vantage point to spot fish from.

"See anything?" Bren calls up to her once he’s stopped laughing enough to talk.

"A few towards the middle, but it’s a bit deep there. Oh, there’s a shoal just about to go past you on that side..." She points at the small shoal of silver and rust coloured fish she can see slowly making their way along the shallow stretch of water just upstream from the boys. It takes them a moment to spot the fish without the height advantage she has, but when they do she watches as they both wade into the water up to their knees and wait.

Bren has the opportunity to make the first grab as one of the fish slips almost straight into his waiting hands, but he’s just a fraction of a second too slow, the fish darting past him. Wulf has even less luck, losing both the fish he was aiming for and his footing, ending up falling backwards into the water with a dull splash.

"Hurensohn!"

Astrid snorts a laugh from her perfect vantage point, Wulf immediately turning to glare up at her, which only makes her laugh harder. She squeals as he kicks a spray of cold water up over her.

"Why don’t you come down here and have a go, see how well you do?" He gripes, standing up and inspecting his sodden trousers.

"I don’t need to." She smirks, crouching on the high bank and stretching her fingers out. She casts mage hand underwater at a pinch point in the riverbed, waiting patiently for a fish to swim into range below her, both boys watching intrigued. It doesn’t take long before an unsuspecting fish swims into the near invisible trap, the translucent hand closing around it and lifting it from the water. Her triumph is short lived though when the thrashing fish manages to free itself, plopping back into the river and speeding off.

"Nearly. It was a good plan." Bren consoles, smiling up at her.

"Cheating is what it was." Wulf puts his hands on his hips and grins. "But if you’re too scared to come down here and get wet with the rest of us..."

"When did we ever say we couldn’t use magic? I’m just using my initiative, but if you prefer falling on your ass to using your brain, who am I to argue." She begins to clamber down anyway, never one to resist a challenge, pausing to roll her skirt up to her knees before stepping into the water with them.

"Using magic isn’t a bad idea. And to be fair, we’re not exactly doing great so far." Bren holds out a hand to help her across the uneven ground, which she accepts despite it not being necessary. While she appreciates the gesture, it makes her even more determined to show him she’s not some delicate flower that might blow over in a strong breeze. She bends over to wait for another shoal of fish to come along, hands poised in the gently churning water.

Just as she’s about to make a grab for a passing fish, she hears Wulf speak the verbal components of a spell, just looking up in time to see him grasp something in the water with a triumphant laugh. He hisses as he juggles a very stiff looking fish in his hands, the creature covered in a layer of spiky barbs of frost.

"I thought you said using magic was cheating?" She says in mock outrage as he tosses the frozen solid fish onto the bank.

"Well you know, if you can’t beat them join them." He smiles smugly. She shakes her head and bends ready to try again, nearly jumping out of her skin when there’s a loud, muffled pop from across the other side of the river channel, a blast of water suddenly shooting upwards and spreading out in the air as it rains back down, drenching all three of them. Bren strides through the water to inspect the site of the blast, picking up a limp fish from the surface.

"Did you just use Ice Knife as a fishing technique?" Wulf looks incredulously at the auburn haired teen, who has by now collected four motionless fish.

"It worked, look." He deposits his catch onto the river bank. "Admittedly, I didn’t expect it to go that well. Though... I may have scared all the other fish away."

Astrid bursts out laughing, almost falling over and only just catching herself with her hands on her knees. "A year of intense academic study with some of the best mages in the Empire, and this is what we’re doing with it..." She and Wulf begin to make their way back to the bank to join Bren.

"It’s weird though," he says, sitting on a rock and taking his boots off to tip the water out of them, "having all this power available to us. I didn’t really think about it much at school, its all so regulated. It's just become so normal to cast spells every day. I used to think creating Dancing Lights to read in my bedroom at night was so incredible when I was young. Now, look at us."

"Murdering fish with ridiculously overpowered spells because we’re bored." Wulf chuckles, making a futile attempt at wringing out the bottom of his shirt.

"Exactly. And look at how close Ferdinard came to doing us some serious damage the other week. Even when we’ve been planning our futures, thinking about our careers in magic, it never really occurred to me how dangerous it is. How dangerous we are now."

Astrid quirks an eyebrow at that as she rakes her fingers through her hair to try to tame it a bit. "Scary thought. Do you think anyone else sees it that way? Imagine our families and friends being scared of us?"

"I can see the appeal." Wulf says darkly. "I want my father to be scared of me, just like I used to be scared of him. And you know, I’d be lying if I said I’d never considered killing him before. Now it would be even easier."

"You don’t mean that." Astrid rests a hand on his arm. "I know you don’t mean that. You’re not a murderer Wulf."

"I know." He sighs and nudges his arm against her shoulder affectionately. "I'm just saying I’ve thought about it, I’d never actually do it. I’m not going to prison for that Wertloses Stück Scheiße."

Bren shakes the last few drips from his boots and begins to put them back on. "At least you know now if he comes near you, you can defend yourself."

"That hasn’t really been the problem for a few years now. Ever since I started working the forge, I could have easily matched him in a fight, especially when he was drunk. I just sort of... froze up, like all the strength went out of me when he used to hit me. It was like a habit I couldn’t get out of. It was bad enough when I was a kid, but then as I got older it felt more and more like I was just giving in and letting him do it. Like I sort of deserved it for not standing up for myself. And my mother always treated it like it was some shameful secret, like it was our fault for making him angry. I know that’s stupid, but it's only since I could talk about it to you two that I’ve started to realise it wasn’t my fault after all."

Astrid can’t think of anything to say to that, everything whirling around her mind just feels inadequate. So she pulls him into a tight hug instead, closing her eyes and swallowing the lump in her throat. Wulf rests his chin on the top of her head, one of his bulky arms encircling her shoulders. When she opens her eyes again, Bren is at his other side with an arm slung around Wulf's back.

"I really love the Academy for everything it has to teach us, but I think I might love it even more for bringing us together." She says eventually, when she’s certain she won’t cry as soon as she speaks. "That sounds really soppy doesn’t it..?"

"Ja." Bren grins as the three of them break the hug. "But true."

"We are great." Wulf adds with a smile. They gather up three of the fish from the bank, leaving the two horribly frost damaged ones behind as they head back towards the town, waterlogged boots squelching along the muddy path.

"You should come to mine to eat these." Bren says to her, holding up the fish, "My mother won’t stop going on about meeting you. I think she’s planning our wedding in her head."

Astrid laughs nervously. "I am not meeting your mother looking like a drowned rat. Besides, I have met her before. I mean, not met met, but I’ve seen her lots of times in town. And when our parents came to wave us off for the Academy when we first left. She hugged me and wished me good luck."

"Well now she wants to meet you as my girlfriend. Apparently, that changes everything according to her, and it’s absolutely imperative that she meets you as soon as possible."

Astrid sighs, trying to sound all cool and begrudging, but she’s secretly delighted at him calling her his girlfriend, as she is every time he says it. "All right... But you have to meet my mother too."

He wheels around to look at her, nearly falling over a tree root sticking up from the path. "You want me to meet your mother? Your mother who yelled at you because we kissed in public. Your mother who thinks I’ve stolen your maidenhood. Why?" He stops walking, utterly bewildered.

"Because it’ll be hilarious." Wulf grins.

"Yes. Yes it will be. And what’s the harm? She can’t hate you any more than she does now. Perhaps she’ll even start to like you."

"Fine, I’ll meet her, if she’ll even let me into the house. And I’m going to make the best impression anyone's ever made in the history of bringing their boyfriend home, just to ruin your fun."

"I can't wait." Astrid beams as they start walking again.

Notes:

I started writing the description of Blumenthal, stuck it in a valley, and only then thought to investigate whether it translated into anything. It actually seems to loosely translate into flower valley (Blumental), which is quite sweet if intentional. Or Matt/Liam randomly named it after the English chef with the same surname, who knows!

Chapter 10: The Ermendruds

Notes:

So first off, apologies for having taken so long to update. First, I decided it was a great idea to write this *short* little fic idea I had alongside this one, which despite having planned it out thoroughly, took a lot longer than expected. And then of course, there's been the little matter of a global pandemic and my two children suddenly not only being at home all the time, but deciding sleep is for the weak.

By way of an apology, I do have two chapters to upload in quick succession.

(This one has a very brief, tame bit of smut towards the end, probably not even smut at all but just in case, I’ll add the warning.)

And a very short glossary this time as most are fairly obvious at this point;
Mein kleiner junge - my little boy
Brussendar - one of the summer months of the Exandrian calendar

After changing her clothes for the fourth time, Astrid is finally forced to make a decision on what to wear by time itself, or a distinct lack of it. She closes the front door behind her with a purposefully brief goodbye to her parents, her mother’s shrill reminder through the window that she must be back home before dark following her as she hurries down the lane towards the edge of the village.

It’s been a stiflingly hot day and the late afternoon air is sweltering, humidity clinging to her skin in a layer of damp that’s both uncomfortable and she’s sure makes her look awful. It’s not exactly how she’d pictured turning up to meet Bren's parents.

As the sun begins to sink lower over the valley the heat dissipates minutely, a stiff breeze rising over the hillside the small holding is situated on, but it does little to cool her down. She’s sure her racing heart and nerves probably aren’t helping matters.

The modest farmhouse finally comes into view between the trees. Sitting in a clearing on the edge of the woods lining this part of the valley, it is mercifully well shaded, and though the breeze is stifled somewhat through the trees, it's still much cooler than the exposed fields and meadows closer to home.

Although she’s seen it in passing before when she and her friends played in the woods as children, and only a few days ago when she’d come to meet Bren and Wulf in the barn, she’s never ventured close to the house itself or paid much attention to it. The farmyard peels off to the eastern side of the building, the barn and sheep pens neatly arranged in a loose triangle with the house, with a cast iron water pump in the middle of it all. A short, stocky piebald horse nickers at her from the gate of the paddock attached to the barn, the only other signs of life in the farmyard an aged ginger cat washing itself on the front door step and the small flock of chickens scratching at the hard packed dirt.

When she raises a shaking hand to knock on the door the cat jumps up eagerly, anticipating it opening. He mews up at her plaintively while they wait, scrambling through the door as soon as there’s a gap big enough, almost tripping Bren in the process.

"Scheiße Frumpkin... Hello." His grin upon seeing her eases her nerves a little.

"Hello." She smiles back, aiming for confident but knowing she looks just as scared as she feels.

He kisses her cheek and whispers, "You’ll be fine. They’re going to love you."

"Bren Aldric Ermendrud, I hope I didn’t just hear you swear in front of our guest." A motherly voice sounds from somewhere inside in a warning tone. Astrid bites back a giggle as Bren winces. "The poor girl hasn’t even stepped foot inside the house yet and you’re cursing like sailor in a harbour-side tavern."

He moves aside to make space for Astrid to enter the small hallway, grumbling under his breath. "She’s never even seen the ocean, let alone a sailor..." then raises his voice to call out, "Sorry Mutter!"

She follows him along the hall and into a snug sitting room, cooking smells wafting in through the open kitchen door. Eadwulf and Bren's father occupy an armchair each in the room, but before anyone can even say hello, Una Ermendrud sweeps in from the kitchen like a force of nature and makes a beeline for Astrid.

"Astrid! Welcome, Bren has told us so much about you." The beaming woman embraces her before leading her to the small couch and beckoning for her to sit. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home!" Astrid complies, stuck between being polite, the informality of the very enthusiastic greeting, and noticing for the first time just how closely Bren resembles his mother. Her Auburn hair is caught up in a scarf but with enough visible to see the colour match is uncanny, and they share the same build and eye colour too. "Leofric, come and help me in the kitchen a moment, leave the youngsters to talk."

For all of Una's energy, Bren's father is reserved by comparison, steadily rising from his chair with a polite nod as he makes his way past, following his wife without complaint.

"Sorry about that." Bren sighs as he sits beside her. "She’s a little bit excited. I’ve never brought anyone home before."

"A little bit excited? She’s been cleaning all day. We haven’t been allowed inside until half an hour ago." Wulf grins at her.

"He’s exaggerating, she hasn’t been that bad." Bren's attempt at reassurance sounds less than convincing.

"She seems lovely." Astrid smiles, clasping her hands in her lap to cover their trembling. "She’s very pretty too, I hadn’t noticed before..." Astrid trails off confusedly as Bren levels a glare at Wulf, who starts to snigger. "What?"

"Don’t." Bren hisses at him. "Don’t you dare."

Wulf holds his hands up innocently, though his grin is anything but. "See, I told you. I’m just saying, if she wasn’t your mother..."

Astrid tries and fails to hold back a laugh as she catches on. "Wulf, you’re terrible."

"He’s going to be sleeping in the barn if he’s not careful. I’ve warned you before, you’re not allowed to fancy my mother!"

"You should take it as a compliment." Wulf shrugs, still grinning.

Bren looks like he’s about to launch into a tirade of the sort of language his mother wouldn’t approve of when Una calls through to them, "Dinner's ready!" Bren levels one last warning glare at Wulf, who rises from his armchair looking completely unaffected by his friend's discomfort. Astrid is just glad to have something to distract her from her nerves.

 

"So Astrid," Una begins as she serves a generous ladleful of stew onto her plate, "how are you finding school?"

"It's been... a lot to take in. It’s hard work sometimes, but we’re learning so much. It’s been quite a year." She glances at Bren and Wulf with a smile, thinking back on some of their less academic escapades.

"I hope this pair haven’t been getting you into too much trouble." Una looks at the boys with a knowing smile.

"We’re model students Mrs Ermendrud." Wulf grins at her, taking a hunk of bread from the piled high platter before passing it to Bren.

"I’m sure..." She shakes her head amusedly, clearly unconvinced.

"How have you found your professors?" Asks Leofric, as Una finally finishes serving and sits to eat with the rest of them.

"They’re ok. Dedicated to their work." She rubs the backs of her hands subconsciously as she thinks about the time Starek caned them. "And we met Archmage Ikithon briefly, he was very helpful." She's careful not to give any hint as to the circumstances that led to them meeting him.

"An Archmage," Una says in awe, "You didn’t mention that Bren. I hope you manage to get more words out of him than I do Astrid, head buried in a book most of the time." She tuts at her son, but her eyes are full of pride.

"It seems to have paid off," Leofric adds, "you all did very well in your exams. We managed to get that much out of him at least. I’m sure your mother and father were very pleased too Astrid?"

She looks down at the table awkwardly, trying to cover it with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Una shoots him an exasperated look and she knows there’s no point in lying, her mother's disdain over her enrolment at the Academy is clearly public knowledge. She feels Bren reach for her hand under the table and laces her fingers with his.

"As pleased as I’d expected. But I’ll change their minds one day."

"Well, I’m sure they have their reasons." Una says politely, but sounds unconvinced. "It's a great honour to be chosen for the Academy, but it’s daunting for us parents. To have you leave home so young. I know it isn’t far really, but Rexxentrum is so enormous... It feels as though it’s half a world away to me, but then I’ve only left Blumenthal a handful of times."

"I trained at the barracks there."Leofric sets his cutlery down having finished his plate. Astrid realises she’s barely touched her own food, nerves and chatter taking presidence over dinner. She makes a concerted effort to eat as he speaks. "They’re to the north of the city, just outside the Mudtop Ward, a bit different to your fancy Shimmer Ward. I went there once to catch a glimpse of Castle Ungebroch. Now that’s a sight to behold, a credit to the Empire. I expect you’ve seen it of course. Do you get outside much?"

"At the weekends, when the weather's good." Bren answers. "The castle isn’t so far from the Academy, you can see it from the windows on the top few floors of the library."

"The weekends?" Una says incredulously, chuckling in amusement. "You mean to tell me you actually leave your bed at some point during Yulisen and Da'leysen Bren?"

"Mutter..." Bren complains embarrassedly.

"Only because Astrid nags us to." Wulf grins.

"I don’t nag, I relentlessly encourage." She smiles back sweetly, resisting the urge to poke her tongue out at him.

"Good for you Astrid, I wish I could have the same success." Una laughs.

As the conversation and the meal progress, Astrid is struck by just how different Bren's parents are to her own. Una's warmth works wonders to put her at ease, and while Leofric's calm quiet is at odds with his wife's enthusiasm, they compliment each other perfectly. It’s a far cry from her own mother's domineering hold over her frustratingly passive father.

"Oh that’s the least of it," Una smiles wistfully as she recounts tales of Bren as an infant, "I once found him in the farmyard head to toe in mud and trying to stick chicken feathers to himself. He was adamant that if he found enough feathers he would be able to fly."

She and Wulf both burst out laughing, Bren looking decidedly red cheeked. "Mutter, please, I was three years old..."

"Oh, such a beautiful child you were mein kleiner junge." She continues affectionately. Bren groans and rests his forehead on the table. Astrid rests a hand on his knee in support, but can’t quite manage to stop sniggering. "Oh, I know, I know, but I’m your mother, it’s my job to embarrass you. One day perhaps you'll have children of your own to fluster and you’ll understand." There’s a distinct hopefulness in the older woman's eyes that makes Astrid ever so slightly nervous.

"Una, leave the poor boy alone." Leofric interjects with a fond smile. "You’ll be planning their wedding feast and knitting baby clothes before the evening's over." Astrid feels her cheeks heat at the mention of weddings and babies. Bren gives a long suffering sigh beside her, Wulf sniggering across the table. 

"Don’t be ridiculous Leofric." Una tuts at her husband, beginning to gather the empty plates from the table. "That said though, you’re a lovely girl Astrid, if you two did want to get married we’d wholeheartedly approve..."

"Look at the time, I’ll walk you home Astrid." Bren interjects, leaping up from his chair. She follows his lead, offering rushed thanks for the meal and goodbyes as he takes her hand and quickly leads them out of the back door into the farmyard.

Night has well and truly begun to set in as they make their way down the dirt track from the farm house and out into the open fields towards her home. The sun has already dipped below the horizon, the clouds striped pink and gold to the west, the first stars beginning to peek through where the sky is a deep dark blue to the east.

"Sorry." He says sheepishly. "She can be a bit much."

"She’s wonderful. You’re parents are really nice." She smiles, feeling less flustered now it’s just them.

"I don’t think I ever really appreciated them till they took Wulf in. I just assumed all parents are like them. I mean, I could do without the baby stories and the marriage talk..." he grimaces, but even in the rapidly fading light she can see his amusement.

"At least she didn’t ask us how many children we want." She laughs. "It could have been a lot worse."

"I take it things haven’t been getting any better with your mother the past few days?"

She screws up her nose sourly. "When I told her I was going for dinner with your family, she looked so appalled I thought for a minute she was going to forbid it. She went off into a tirade about how you and your family aren't good enough, and that pursuing you is a waste of time. When my father pointed out that at least we're going about things respectfully, I thought she was going to throw her sewing box at him. But it seemed to get her thinking and she relented in the end. I thought I’d wait a few days before broaching the subject of you meeting them."

"How are you going to convince her?" 

He raises an eyebrow as Astrid smiles wryly. "I’m going to play her at her own game." She clears her throat, putting on an imitation of a highborn accent. "Social convention is clear that an invitation to dine should be returned, lest one seem impolite." She laughs, dropping the accent as he grins and shakes his head. "If she cares so much about her reputation, she can’t possibly refuse you. She’s all about keeping up appearances after all."

He smirks. "How despicably manipulative. I’m proud of you."

"And as for us going about things respectfully..." she stops walking and pulls him in for a heated kiss, smiling as he chuckles against her lips. She tangles her fingers in his hair and loses herself in him for a while, in no hurry to get home. With his hands wandering under her blouse and his mouth on her neck, she finally comes to her senses as he begins to suckle at her throat more insistently.

"If you mark me," she giggles breathlessly, "she’ll never let you in the house."

"Best start wearing a scarf then." He mumbles against her skin. She moans as his teeth scrape along the line of her jaw and then he’s kissing her again. She reluctantly pulls back after a moment, catching sight of the darkening sky.

"A scarf in Brussendar? Because that’s not suspicious." She laughs, taking his hand and starting to walk again. "Believe me, I'd love to stand here and make out with you more, but I need to be back home before it gets too dark. And we’re in a field Bren." She smacks at her arm as she feels a mosquito bite her.

He sighs deeply, rolling his shoulders and shaking his head clear. "So the insects get to bite you but I don’t. That seems unfair."

"Perhaps I should cover myself in mud, I hear that keeps them at bay." She grins at him.

"Never going to live that down am I..."

"Nope."

Notes:

Brief mention of original Frumpkin *happy sigh*

Chapter 11: Risk and Reward

Notes:

My updates are like buses, you wait ages and then two come along at once...

There’s no two ways about it, this chapter has definitely got a healthy dose of smut in it. Also snarky teens, of course. And me dodging like a literature ninja around the fact that at the point in time that this was written, we don’t know Astrid's surname...

 

Knock knock knock...

Astrid’s heart skips a beat as she heads towards the door. It’s been a week since she was the dinner guest at Bren's house, and a few days since she last saw him. Now, having successfully convinced her mother to have him over in return, it’s finally time. She takes a breath before opening the door, her mouth dropping open in surprise. Recovering from her initial shock, she stifles a laugh with her hand at the sight of Bren wearing his suit from the formal.

"I told you I was going to make a good impression." He whispers, grinning at her. The truth is, they both know no matter what he does her mother will never be pleased about their relationship. And far from making her dread the evening, Astrid finds that oddly liberating.

"Let’s have a little fun with her." Bren had suggested as they'd lazed in the sun seared hay meadow with Wulf a few days before. "We'll pretend I'm the best son in law ever, while mocking her unrealistic expectations."

"Sounds good to me." She’d replied with a grin. "If you think you’re up to the challenge."

"If you need any tips, I’m really good with mothers." Wulf beamed, leaping to his feet in time to avoid Bren launching himself at him, Astrid doubling over with laughter as he chased the larger boy around the meadow...

"Mother, father, Bren's here!" She calls sweetly, closing the door behind him and leading him into the sitting room. On the surface of it, the house looks grand and well maintained, gaudy ornaments displayed in any available space, a jumble of paintings, mirrors and crudely embroidered pieces hung on every spare inch of wall. But the reality is a far cry, the house itself only a little larger than the Ermendrud farmhouse, and with none of the comfort. Everything is just for show, and her parents are not as well off as her mother would have people believe.

The woman herself appears from the kitchen, looking down her nose as soon as she sees him, though she raises an eyebrow in surprise at his attire.

"Good evening Mrs..."

"Bren. How nice to see you." She interrupts dismissively. "Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes. Astrid, why don’t you show him through to the dining room to wait." She returns to the kitchen without waiting for an answer.

Rolling her eyes, she does as instructed. The "dining room" actually started life as a storeroom attached to the side of the house, plastered and painted, but never quite losing the subtle smell of damp. "Mother insisted on having a separate dining room. She thinks it’s uncouth to eat in the kitchen." The table and chairs barely fit in the cramped space, but that at least has the benefit of her having to sit close at Bren's side.

She’s just about to risk kissing him when her mother strides in carrying a tray of roasted partridge and vegetables. Her father, trailing behind with the wine, gives a nod and a quiet hello as he sits, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Having carved the birds and served the food with a sour set to her mouth, they eat in silence for a few minutes before her mother begins the inquisition. "So, Bren, Astrid tells me you’re doing very well at the Academy?"

"He’s the top of our class Mutter." Astrid says, her tone just a little too sweet but her pride in him genuine.

"Is that so?" Her mother says dryly, stabbing a piece of turnip with her fork and looking almost disappointed by his success.

"We have very good teachers." He smiles with a self deprecating shrug. "Though I do feel as though I’ve found my calling."

"You won’t be taking over your father's farm then?" She asks bluntly. Even though she was expecting it, Astrid can’t help but feel a little bit mortified.

"I hope to pursue a more academic career path," Bren answers unfazed, "but perhaps that will allow me to gain some capital long term and we can expand. It’s good, fertile land after all, and there’s plenty of it in the valley yet to be cultivated."

"Indeed." She seems taken aback by the eloquent answer she obviously wasn’t expecting. Astrid, who’s grown accustomed to just how articulate Bren can be, hides a smug grin around a mouthful of peas. "Maybe you’ll be the first farmer in the Zemni Fields to be able to plough a field and read a book at the same time." She says with a cruel twist to her mouth.

"Maybe I will." He smiles politely back, though Astrid can see the challenge in it as he meets her mother's gaze without blinking. "But more likely I’ll live in Rexxentrum and leave the family farm in my father's capable hands. He’s not old after all." There’s an edge to his words that makes it perfectly clear to Astrid that he’s remarking on her parent's more advanced years, and from her mother's glare she catches it too.

"Yes, they were rather young when they had you, not far off your own age as I remember it, and barely wed. Do you plan to follow their example?" Astrid nearly chokes on a piece of carrot, coughing into her hand. 

Bren takes it in his stride of course, chuckling amusedly. "I don’t think our professors would be best pleased if we turned up to class with a baby in tow, and with two years studying left it’s safe to say there's no rush." Her mother seems satisfied by that, giving a curt nod in response.

"Tell me Bren, is the library at the Academy as good as it’s made out to be? I’ve heard such impressive things, thousands and thousands of books piled high on shelves from floor to ceiling." Her bibliophile father takes his chance to get a word in during the lull in conversation. She purses her lips as Bren answers, the two men enthusing over what she’s sure is the one and only thing they have in common.

Of course, he could have asked her that same question at any point in the past few weeks she’s been home, but then he barely says two words to her at the best of times, and never about anything of substance. It’s always been made plain to her that both her parents wish she’d been born a boy, and that neither of them take her very seriously as a girl. In their eyes, she’s only ever had one use, and that’s to marry a man who can elevate their wealth and status. From the look her mother's levelling at Bren, she certainly still doesn’t think that man should be him.

The rest of the meal continues with a succession of her mother's thinly veiled insults and increasing disappointment when Bren remains as courteous as ever with his replies. When the meal is finally done, he says his goodbyes as though he’s had a wonderful time, and Astrid can't hold back her grin at the open irritation on her mother's face.

On her way to see him out, Astrid makes a snap decision. Her stomach twists, caught somewhere between nervous and excited.

"Thanks for coming, maybe I’ll see you later in the week." She says loud enough for her parents to hear through the open door of the sitting room.

"It was a really lovely evening, your parents are wonderful. Please thank them again on my behalf for their hospitality." He smirks, speaking far more loudly than necessary, still playing along. She opens the front door and he steps out into the warm night air. Safely away from prying eyes, she grabs a handful of his shirt and all but yanks him in for a heated kiss, which he returns enthusiastically. She pulls back after only a few seconds, already feeling out of breath.

"Right side of the house, second window along on the first floor. I’ll meet you there in a minute, use the trellis to climb up." She whispers in his ear. He looks at her bewildered for a moment, before a sly grin spreads across his face.

"See you again soon." He says for the benefit of her parents, making his way down the path in case one of them is watching him to make sure he leaves.

"Bye." She calls as she shuts the door behind him.

When she re-enters the sitting room, her mother is indeed watching from the window that looks out over the garden, nodding in satisfaction before turning and sitting in her favourite chair beside the fire.

"So, what did you think?" Astrid asks, as if her mother's opinion matters to her in any way.

"Polite, charming, respectful, as good as can be expected with his background. But there’s still something untrustworthy about him. As I’ve said before, you can do better." She finishes snootily.

"I thought he was a thoroughly nice young man." Her father interjects with a smile. The smile falters with one look at his wife's stern expression, and he dives back into the book spread across his lap.

"Well you would think that, he enjoys books. You’re entirely too trusting, no talent for reading people." She exhales irritably, picking up her glass of wine and taking a deep sip.

"I think I’m going to get an early night. Thank you for tonight, it was very good of you to agree to meet him mother. You’ve been very understanding." Astrid simpers, laying it on thick. For all her self-professed talent for reading people, the woman smiles indulgently, apparently believing her daughter's act.

"I’m nothing if not fair Astrid, I prefer to give people the benefit of the doubt. I’m quite charitable in my opinions. He deserved a fair hearing, and he had one. I can’t say I approve still, but that was only to be expected." She sniffs haughtily.

Astrid lets it go. After all, arguing won’t get her anywhere. But sneaking her boyfriend in and kissing him till they’re both breathless is not only a far more pleasurable way to spend the evening, it’s also the perfect way to disrespect the woman.

"Well, goodnight Mutter, goodnight Vater." She says innocently, heading up the stairs.

As soon as her bedroom door is closed behind her, she hurries to the window and quietly opens it, looking out for Bren. Back pressed flat against the wall below, he looks up at her, grinning from ear to ear as he easily scales the trellis and clambers through the window. She barely has it shut before he’s on her, hands cupping her face as he kisses her hungrily. She moans into his mouth and shoves his suit jacket off his shoulders.

He wrenches his lips from hers, hovering only an inch away from them still and eyes as beautifully dark as she’s ever seen them. "So that went well I thought." He smirks and even though he's whispering, she can hear the rasp in his voice.

"You were brilliant. I thought she was going to throw you out when you implied she was old." She chuckles quietly.

"I almost wish she had. She’s awful Astrid, I know she’s your mother but..." 

She cuts him off with another harsh kiss. "Say what you like, I hate the old witch. Though, I did have other things in mind than talking..." Moving barely an inch away from him, her eyes lock onto his daringly as she begins to unbutton her blouse. Pulling it off, she moves onto her skirt, unfastening it and letting it pool at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her thin cotton shift and her underwear.

"Other things..?" He gulps as his eyes drag over her body, drinking it all in despite the material still obscuring his view. She nods and bites her lip self consciously under his gaze, suddenly all too aware that he’s never seen her even this undressed. When his eyes find hers again, he begins to unbutton his shirt and her breath falters. She watches as he shrugs it off, then unfastens his trousers.

"Is this Ok?" He asks, seeming unsure. She nods emphatically and he pulls them down, leaving just his under-shorts on.

Finding the courage to move first, she places her trembling hands on his chest and runs her fingers down to his stomach and back up again. He shivers and puts his own hands on her hips, pulling her in for a slow, deep kiss, their bodies pressing together tantalisingly. In time with their  tongues' slow slide, she undulates her hips against his automatically, his answering groan into her mouth making her shiver. His hands start to roam, first up and down her sides, then over her back, slipping lower till he’s cupping her rear. She finally breaks the kiss with a shuddering breath as his own hips pivot into hers, his hardness causing unexpectedly welcome friction between her legs despite the material still between them.

"About those other things Astrid," he says breathlessly against her lips, flustered, "I'm not sure... I’m not ready for that yet. I know I’m meant to be, I’m meant to want to throw you on the bed and... well that’s what the other boys say anyway, but I’m not really... that’s not really me..." he says in a rush.

She chuckles, pressing their foreheads together. "I didn’t mean that, not tonight. I’m not ready for that either."

"Oh," he says, sounding relieved, "Not that I was implying you were... uh..."

She sighs amusedly. "You’re thinking too much. And coming from me that’s saying something."

"I am aren't I." She nods as he grins lopsidedly. His confidence restored, she backs him towards her bed, straddling his thighs as he sits and kissing him again, more urgently this time. He responds in kind, one hand sliding over her shift to cup her breast. He gropes clumsily at first, but then a thumb brushes her nipple accidentally, making her whimper.

He pulls his hand away looking alarmed until she chuckles at him, taking his hand in hers and pressing it back over her breast. "That was good." She whispers against his lips before shifting to kiss along his jaw. He repeats the motion, again, and again, gently exploring the bud, making her shudder as her hips roll against his rhythmically, instinct taking over. She shushes him with a giggle as he moans loud in her ear, becoming suddenly aware of his fingers brushing over her thigh, bunching her shift up as they go.

"Can I touch you?" He pants breathlessly, his hand stilling just inches from her underwear.

She nods without a seconds thought, pulling his face up to hers for a bruising kiss. Their tongues tangle as his fingers slip under the hem of her shift and breach her underwear.

He treats her like she’s a new spell he’s been tasked with learning, the fascination she sees in his eyes, when she can focus enough to notice, is intoxicating. She loves seeing him like this, hyper focussed and completely absorbed, but to have it be her he’s studying makes it all the more intense. He notes every shudder, every gasp, every tiny motion that makes her whimper, and although his movements are a little awkward to begin with, it’s not long before she’s having to muffle her moans against his shoulder, her whole body trembling as she comes.

Her brain runs blissfully slow as she tries to catch her breath, and she’s only vaguely aware of his other hand moving inside his own underwear when he groans low in his throat, his muscles tensing under her as he finishes himself too. She nuzzles his neck where it meets his jaw, pressing a kiss to his pulse point as he sucks in ragged breaths against her hair.

A little while later, laying curled against his side on her cramped bed, she smiles at the thought that she’ll never be able to watch his fingers cast a spell again without thinking of them inside her, and while she kind of wants to tell him that, he looks smug enough as it is.

"I wish you could stay here tonight. I miss being just down the hall from you." She whispers, tracing her fingertips lazily through the cooling beads of sweat on his chest.

"Maybe I can try one night. I don’t know though, I’m pretty sure our mothers would find out. They just seem to know about things like this." He looks nervously towards the door. Astrid smiles sleepily, unable to rouse much concern while she’s still feeling so sluggish. "And on that note, I should probably get going."

She pouts as he gets up and starts to dress. "So soon?"

He grins at her affectionately. "It's getting late, I don’t want to push my luck. Tonight's been perfect, I'd rather it didn’t end up with your mother chasing me down the lane with a carving knife."

She chuckles sleepily at that mental image. Shrugging into his jacket, he leans down to kiss her one last time before going to the window. "Tomorrow?" He asks quietly.

"I need to go into town in the morning. You could meet me in the square around noon?"

"Wulf might need some convincing, he’s been avoiding town incase he bumps into his father. But we'll be there. See you tomorrow." On his way through the window he knocks over a book which thumps to the floor, the noise startlingly loud in the otherwise quiet room.

"Astrid! Is that you?" Her mother's voice calls from the stairs, the sound of footsteps approaching. Bren and Astrid freeze, exchanging worried looks before moving in a flurry of activity, him climbing down the trellis as quickly as he can without falling, and her jumping out of bed to close the window behind him, picking up the offending book.

"Yes Mutter, sorry. I was reading and dropped my book." She calls back. The footsteps stop outside her door.

"Well be more careful next time, I thought we were being burgled." She hears her mother retreat back down the stairs muttering sullenly, and lets out a deep sigh of relief. Looking out of the window, she grins to herself as the moonlit silhouette of Bren sprints down the lane and out of view.

Chapter 12: Hurt and Comfort

Notes:

Couple of trigger warnings for this one, mentions of abuse and self harm.
Also some terrible German translations:
Gutaussehend - Good looking/handsome
Onkel - Uncle
Westen Straße - West Street
Krumm Glocke - Crooked Bell
Junge - boy
Beschissen - shitty/crappy
Verpiss dich - fuck off/piss off
Danke - thank you

Hope you’re all doing well and in good health despite these crazy times x

Once, Astrid would have considered Blumenthal's market square positively heaving on a day like today, a bustling throng of people buying, bartering and selling produce, encouraged out in greater numbers than usual by the fine Brussendar weather. Having now experienced the perpetually busy streets of Rexxentrum however, she’s more aware than ever of just how small her home town is. 

What really emphasises this though, as she makes her way along the south of the square past the small livestock auction and grocer's stalls, is the fact that she can put a name to most of the people she sees. And more perturbingly, even those she doesn’t recognise seem to know exactly who she is.

With the number of people determined to greet her or stop to chat about the Academy, it takes at least twice as long as normal to reach the square's central point, the pride of the town, a bronze statue of the first king of the Dwendalian Empire, King Manfreid Dwendal.

She spots Bren through the crowds first, perched on the statue's stone plinth looking amused. She soon finds what’s caught his attention when she finally makes it to the edge of the market stalls and sees Wulf surrounded by a group of five girls on the opposite side of the statue.

Astrid smirks as she heads over, having seen this scenario play out plenty of times before. The three of them might not be popular with the majority of their fellow Academy students, but that still never stopped Wulf from getting plenty of attention at school. Astrid had learned pretty early on in their friendship that with the right physical attributes and a good dose of confidence, Wulf could charm even some of the most snobbish students, at least for a while. According to him, apparently some of them quite liked the novelty factor of his being what they described as "a bit of rough", though they’d never admit it to their peers of course.

In Blumenthal, however, what with them all but being hailed as local celebrities for having been chosen for the Academy, admirers flock to him without hesitation, and they aren’t exactly covert about it either. He may not have worked a forge in almost a year, but his broad shoulders and still well defined chest make it easy to see why, not to mention his height, his striking blue eyes and his easy demeanour. He charms simply by being his flirtatious, blunt self, and Astrid has to admit, it’s fascinating to watch.

Reaching the statue she notices Reta Hahn among the group of girls, paying little attention to Wulf as her friends flirt with him, but making eyes at Bren with a coquettish little smile that Astrid wants to slap off her face. Instead, she pulls him into a smouldering kiss as soon as she’s close enough, thoroughly aware that she’s peevishly marking her territory, and not feeling even a tiny bit ashamed about it. Bren doesn’t seem to mind either, if the smirk she can feel against her lips is anything to go by.

"Good afternoon to you too." He grins when they part, his attention fully diverted to her. Glancing over at Reta she finds her glaring sourly back, and can’t help but feel more than a little bit smug.

"Hello gutaussehend. I see the fan club is in session." She nods towards Wulf's groupies as she sits beside him on the plinth.

He gives a chuckle. "Ja. They spotted him as soon as we arrived and pounced. Not that he seems to mind."

Astrid grins at their friend, charming smile firmly in place and confidence radiating from every pore as he talks to the captivated girls. But there’s something not quite right, and though she can’t put her finger on it, she can tell he’s not as comfortable as he outwardly seems. She remembers back to what Bren had said as he left the night before "Wulf might need some convincing, he’s been avoiding town incase he bumps into his father..."

"How’s he been though, really? Was he worried about coming here?" She asks as Bren nuzzles her cheek distractedly. He looks at her in confusion then seems to catch on, turning back to their friend with a frown.

"A bit. He seemed to be keeping his head down when we passed the taverns on the way here. And he has been a bit quiet I suppose..."

"Maybe we should just head back to yours? It’s a nightmare here anyway, everyone wants to talk to me today. Don’t get me wrong, it makes a nice change for people to like us, but if they could just tone it down a little that would be good. Oh, sheiße, it’s my uncle..." She mutters as a man well into his later years breaks away from the steady stream of shoppers and makes his way towards them with a jovial wave. "Guten tag Onkel." She waves back, putting on a smile.

By the time he moves on again back to his shopping, Wulf has finished his flirting and come to join them. Astrid rolls her shoulders and shakes herself in irritation. "So," Bren grins, "back to mine?"

She nods emphatically, Wulf grunting in agreement, a definite slump to his shoulders now he’s not playing the hunk any more. Astrid pats him on the back as they start to move back towards the bustling street. "Come on big guy, you did well enough coming here at all. I’m sorry for suggesting it."

"It's ok. I had to come into town at some point, I can’t hide away forever." He flashes her a weak smile, still looking about them uncomfortably.

They leave the square on the north side, deciding against taking the larger and more direct Westen Straße when they see how packed it is and wanting to avoid being stopped by any more distant relatives and well-wishers. By the time Astrid remembers this less crowded route will take them right past the Krumm Glocke tavern, it’s already too late.

"He might not be here." Astrid says reassuringly, as they try to pass by the dark beamed building quickly. "There are four other taverns in town, and he might not be in any of them at all right now."

"He always drinks at lunchtime. I just hope you’re right that he’s in one of the others today." Wulf mumbles, hunkered down as if trying to make himself as small as possible. They're not even thirty feet past the tavern when they hear the heavy door slam open, ricocheting off the plaster with the force of it.

"Heard you were back Junge." The familiar, grizzled voice of Wulf's father slurs after them. Wulf turns to face him grimly, but says nothing. "Figured I’d see you myself sooner or later. What? You got nothing to say to your father?"

"Let’s just go Wulf." Bren says to him quietly, taking his arm to try and lead him away.

"You better than me now, are you boy? Now you’ve got your fancy school in your fancy city? Can’t lower yourself to talk to me now, eh?" The large man takes a lurching few steps towards them, staggering and only just managing to catch himself on one of the tavern's window frames.

Wulf looks at him with disgust. "You’re an embarrassment." He mutters, though there’s a stutter to his voice that betrays his nerves.

"I’m an embarrassment!" The drunken blacksmith barks a humourless laugh, levelling a glare at his son. "You disrespected me, abandoned your family, your ancestral trade, and went to play wizards at some high and mighty school, and I’m the embarrassment? You're pathetic Junge. You’ll mess it up soon enough and be back here with your begging bowl wanting scraps from my table. Before I let you in I’ll take my belt to you, remind you who you really are. Pathetic." He laughs drunkenly, patting the wide strip of worn brown leather at his waist.

Shrugging Bren's hand off his arm, Wulf turns and all but bolts down the lane, walking away as fast as he can. Behind him his father cackles, mocking him with every step. Astrid and Bren have to jog to catch up.

"Wulf..." She says as they round a corner onto another side street, small and unpaved, "Wulf, slow down. He’s gone, it's ok..."

"Ok!?" He yells, finally stopping as he rounds on her. "Nothing about this is ok!"

"That’s not what she meant..." Bren says calmly, stopping beside her.

"I know what she meant! You don’t understand... He’s not gone, he’s right here in this beschissen town, making me look over my shoulder constantly! But worse than that, he’s in here!" He jabs a finger hard against his temple. "So he's not gone Astrid, he’s never gone!" His voice breaks at the end, leaving Astrid swallowing down her own tears at seeing him so distressed. She opens her mouth to speak but he waves a hand at her dismissively, turning to walk away again.

"Wulf, where are you going?" Bren asks, starting to follow him.

"Somewhere I can block him out!" He growls back over his shoulder, storming off down the street and out of sight around a bend. Bren turns back towards Astrid with a sigh, wrapping his arms around her comfortingly.

"Should we go after him?" She asks, looking forlornly in the direction Wulf went.

Bren shakes his head, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Better to let him get it out of his system. We should go to mine, he’ll come home when he’s ready."

Arm in arm, they head solemnly off up the hill and out of town towards the smallholding. "What will he do?"

"I don’t know, he doesn’t always tell me. Sometimes when he gets like this he finds something to break, sometimes he hurts himself, sometimes he goes to one of his lovers. Sometimes I think he just finds somewhere quiet to cry where no one will disturb him."

"Hurts himself?" Astrid looks up at him worriedly.

"Hits things till his knuckles bleed." Bren shrugs, though his nonchalance is clearly all for her benefit. He clears his throat, betraying his concern. "He’s been much better recently. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him like this."

"Maybe he won’t do any of those things in that case." She says hopefully. "Maybe he just needs some time by himself."

"Ja, maybe." He sounds unconvinced.

Back at Bren's, they perch together on the farmyard wall looking out over the lane, keeping an eye out for Wulf's return. Afternoon becomes hazy early evening, the sun creeping over the sky to touch the tops of the trees lining the west side of the lane, and still no sign.

"Still not back?" Una comes out to ask, smiling sympathetically when they shake their heads glumly. "Try not to worry, I’m sure he won’t be long. Astrid, will you stay for dinner? It’s ready now if you’d like some, there’s plenty to spare."

Astrid opens and closes her mouth repeatedly, staring at Bren for help. "I... wouldn’t want to impose... Mrs Ermendrud..." she stutters as Bren just grins at her.

"It’s no imposition at all, we’re glad to have you." Astrid blushes awkwardly as it seems the matter is closed, Una making her way back towards the house before she can refuse.

There’s little conversation over dinner, a tense silence stretching for most of the meal. Astrid can’t help but keep glancing at the door, and notices Bren doing the same too. With a nervous sigh, Una begins clearing their near untouched plates, giving Bren a gentle pat on the shoulder on the way past.

"I should be heading back home, I hadn’t realised how late it’s got." Astrid says regretfully as she notices how much the light has faded outside. The trees running alongside the west of the farm block out much of the evening sun, and though the dim twilight here will be replaced by lighter golden hues out in the open fields towards her home, even if she leaves immediately she knows it will be close to full dark by the time she gets there. Her mother will have plenty to say about that, but Astrid couldn’t care less about the woman's ranting right now.

"I’ll walk you home." Bren says solemnly, rising from the table with her.

"No, don’t. It’s better that you’re here for when he comes back. I’ll be fine, it’s not that far."

He nods reluctantly. "I’ll walk you to the gate at least."

They part with a chaste kiss, a far cry from their endeavours the previous night, all but forgotten in the somber mood of the afternoon. Bren climbs up to sit on the wide, wooden farmyard gate as she makes her way down the lane to the footpath over the fields towards home.

As she reaches the junction of the footpath and takes a step up the earthen bank that lines the lane on either side, she chances one last glance along the dusty track. And pauses mid step, half falling back down to the road, using a tree trunk to steady herself as she notices a hazy shape moving a hundred or so yards away, hard to make out in the twilight.

She takes off running as the shape moves closer and becomes sharper, the unmistakable form of Eadwulf shambling slowly forward all but silhouetted in the dying light. "Wulf!" She shouts to him, striding as quickly as she can to reach him. "Bren, he’s back!"

She hears the clatter of the gate as Bren jumps off it and the dusty slap of his footfalls on the dry road behind her. She reaches Wulf first only by seconds, gasping as she sees that he’s injured. He's limping, clutching at his ribs with one hand, the other holding a blood soaked handkerchief up to a gash on the bridge of his swollen nose.

"What happened to you?" Bren asks, while Astrid can only stand and gape uselessly.

"Only what I deserved. Went to see Berda Backerin. Spent the afternoon blocking out you know who by doing you know what with her, lost track of time and her father came home and caught us. Ow!" He levels a glare at Bren as he ducks under Wulf's arm to help him walk, but shifts his weight, obviously glad of the extra support.

"Let’s get you home. You know what my mother is like, she’ll enjoy fussing over you..."

"No." Wulf grunts, cutting him off abruptly. "I don’t want them seeing me like this."

Bren glances at him worriedly as they start moving together up the lane towards the farm. Astrid follows behind, wishing there was something she could do to help. "They won’t judge you. You know they won’t."

"They should." Wulf sighs heavily, clutching at his ribs painfully. "It’ll be halfway round the town by tomorrow, the gossips will be beside themselves. You told me not to get your parents mixed up in all of that, like usual I've messed it up haven’t I..."

"They'll be far more worried that you’re hurt than they will be by some stupid rumours. Let’s just deal with this first and then worry about the repercussions tomorrow."

"I’m not that badly hurt, it looks worse than it is. We'll go to the barn so I can clean up." Bren frowns up at him unconvinced. "Please Bren..."

"Wulf, you can hardly walk." Astrid tuts nervously, moving to his other side to help as he stumbles over a pot hole. He lets her under his arm, but she doubts she’s doing any good with her much smaller size. 

"Growing up like I did, I can take a punch and I know what badly hurt feels like." He hisses in pain, his eyes closing with a grimace for a second. "Nothing's broken, just badly bruised. I’ll be fine with a few days rest." Astrid tries to swallow the lump forming in her throat at how matter of fact he sounds, at the thought of her friend learning such harsh lessons so young.

With slow progress they eventually make it to the gate, Astrid slipping out from under Eadwulf's arm to open it as quietly as possible and close it again when the boys are through, helping them again with the barn door when they make it to the shadowed building. Bren casts Dancing Lights to help them see, and Astrid nearly gasps again when the glow illuminates Wulf's injuries fully. With a deep whimper he settles painfully on a hay bale, adjusting to find a less sore position to support his side.

Bren places a hand on her shoulder and gives it a little squeeze. "Astrid, you need to get home."

"Not yet. Go and get some water from the pump please Bren, and you’re going to let me look at those wounds."

"You don’t have to do that." Wulf shakes his head stiffly, sounding exhausted. Ignoring him she looks at Bren and nods towards the door, relieved when he does as she asked without argument.

She kneels beside their friend, bunching up his shirt to inspect his ribs. Her mouth creases into a grimace at the series of rapidly purpling welts lining one side of his chest. "What did he do to you?" She asks, voice no louder than a whisper.

"Punched me to the floor, kicked me till I managed to get up and run." He shrugs as if it’s nothing.

"Well I’m not sure you have to worry too much about that idle gossip." Astrid lets his shirt fall back down, reaching up to take the red stained handkerchief from him and inspect his nose with a wince. "There’s Berda's reputation to protect, but his own too with this level of violence. He should be ashamed of himself."

"I deserved it." Wulf mumbles, eyes cast down at the floor. "I’m pathetic."

"No, you're not. Wulf look at me." After a moment's hesitation he brings his eyes up to meet hers. There’s a tiredness there that has nothing to do with his long, painful hobble back to the farm. "You didn’t deserve to be hurt when you were a boy and you don’t deserve it now. You’re kind, and loyal, and so, so clever. If you don’t see any of that, if you don’t make use of it, your father wins. So whether you believe us or not, we’re going to keep telling you how great you are, and we’re going to keep encouraging you to prove him wrong. Because we love you Wulf, and if he doesn’t, that’s his loss."

He swallows hard and gives her a weak smile, and though she can tell he’s not ok still, his eyes are a little brighter, and his shoulders a little less tight. That’s enough, she thinks to herself, for now at least it’s enough.

The barn door creaks open quietly and shuts again as Bren returns with a pail of water. Taking her own handkerchief from one of her skirt pockets, Astrid wets it in the bucket and wrings it out, casting Prestidigitation to cool it before pulling Wulf's shirt up again and pressing it gently over the bruises. He let’s out a rasping breath at the shock of cold, before closing his eyes with a relieved rumble in his chest at the immediate respite it gives him from the pain. She guides one of his large hands to hold the cloth in place as she turns her attention to his nose, casting prestidigitation again first to clean the cut, and then to cool his own blood stained handkerchief, pressing it gently to the swelling.

"Is now a good time to say I have no idea what I'm doing?" She jokes, hoping it’ll ease her roiling stomach.

"Could have fooled me, you should have been a cleric." Bren smiles fondly when she wrinkles up her nose at the thought. "Speaking of which, if you don’t leave now you might need one when your mother gets hold of you." He winces and looks sheepishly at Wulf. "Sorry."

Wulf, gives a small grin and waves away the comment, standing stiffly with a pained groan. "Ja, no offence Astrid but, verpiss dich. The last thing I want is for you to get into trouble because of me." He limps the few steps to her and pulls her gingerly into a hug, avoiding his bruised side. "And danke."

"Use the rest of that water to clean yourself up," she instructs, "you’ll feel better for it and Una might not fuss as much when you go in."

"Yes ma'am." Wulf salutes amusedly.

Bren walks her out to the lane, eyeing the rough track towards her home dubiously. The twilight has faded into almost full dark by now, the last sliver of the sun only just visible above the hillside to the west and stars already showing in the sky to the east. "I should walk you home..."

"You will not Bren Ermendrud. I can take care of myself just fine, and besides, Wulf needs you more than I do." She hopes the confidence in her voice convinces him, because the thought of walking all that way in the dark alone is not a comfortable one. He rolls his eyes and pulls her into a kiss that makes her forget her fear, for just a moment at least. She sighs when he pulls away. "I’ll come and see you when I can. No doubt mother will be mad about tonight, so I might have to leave it a few days... Look after Wulf, he’s feeling pretty down despite the bravado."

He takes her hand and gives it a small squeeze. "I will. Be safe." Reluctantly, with one last quick kiss, she starts off down the path towards home, hoping her mother won’t be too cross when she gets there.

Chapter 13: Defiance

Notes:

To mark fifty days since me and my family went into quarantine, a chapter...
Well ok, the timing is just a coincidence, but a chapter nonetheless. As always I hope this finds you all well and goes some way to helping with some much needed escapism. Enjoy, and prepare to sound the "irritating mother" alert!

Translations:
Hochsommer - High Summer/Mid Summer
Hurensohn - son of a whore

"Astrid!"

Closing her eyes exasperatedly with a muttered curse, Astrid turns back towards the house, plastering a smile on her face. "Yes mother?"

"Where are you creeping off to?" The woman asks suspiciously from the doorstep, arms folded across her chest and foot tapping irritably.

"Just into town." She answers, trying to sound cheerful. "I need some burgundy thread to repair my Academy cloak." Not technically a lie...

"And you couldn’t get it when you went into town last week?" Her mother scowls at her, clearly unconvinced.

"I forgot." She flusters innocently.

For a moment, her mother breaks into a smile herself, and Astrid thinks she might actually have fooled her. The smile turns into a sneer however, and then a full blown glare. "Do you think I was born yesterday? Get back inside! As I told you last week when you turned up at a ridiculous hour of the night, you are not to see that boy again!"

"Mother please..."

"Inside!"

Astrid stalks back inside the house with a frustrated growl, taking the stairs two at a time and slamming her bedroom door shut behind her. Falling back against it, she sits heavily on the floor resting her head in her hands. A week. A whole week since she’d been late home and her mother still hadn’t got over it.

Bren had come to try and see her a few days ago. He hadn’t even made it to the front door before her mother had been outside yelling at him to leave, that he wasn’t welcome here and he wasn’t to go near her daughter ever again. For someone so worried about what the neighbours think, she wasn’t exactly discreet about it.

Bren had left without argument, but Astrid could see how tense he was as he walked away back down the path. He’d turned to look up at her window a few times before he reached the lane, and though she wasn’t sure if he’d been able to see her, she’d pressed a hand to the glass in hope that he could. She’d broken down into great, heaving, pathetic sobs after that, watching him walk away looking so defeated.

She stays in her bedroom until supper, and then only comes downstairs begrudgingly, hunger getting the better of her in the end. The three of them eat most of the meal in silence, as is the norm for her family.

"Mother," she sighs eventually, placing her knife and fork down with her food barely touched, "you can’t keep me locked inside all summer. When are you going to allow me to go out again?"

"That depends." Her mother replies briskly.

"...On?" Astrid urges.

"Whether you intend to see the Ermendrud boy again."

She opens her mouth to reply, intending to say of course, he’s my boyfriend, but stopping herself just in time. "I have other friends." She says instead. It’s not exactly a lie, she had other friends before she went to the Academy. They just, don’t matter all that much any more, she realises. Their lives revolved almost entirely around the local gossip, and with no intention of ever leaving Blumenthal or wanting more than this tiny boring town, she just doesn’t have much in common with them any more.

"That isn’t an answer to my question Astrid." The older woman sighs impatiently.

"You can’t ban me from seeing him." She crosses her arms defiantly. "I’m seventeen, I’m not a child any more."

"While you’re under my roof, I can do as I please. You won’t see him again this summer, and that’s final." There’s a certainty to her mother's voice that makes her blood boil.

"Am I banned from seeing Eadwulf too?" 

Her mother frowns. "Why would you want to? He’s a lout Astrid, you know what his father is like and as for his reputation…"

"He’s not his father, that’s completely unfair. You don’t even know him."

Her mother rolls her eyes. "I'm sure you believe he’s wonderful but like I said, his reputation precedes him. He’ll say anything to get someone into bed. More fool you for falling for it."

Astrid groans. "He’s not trying to get me into bed Mother, he’s just my friend!"

"Oh Astrid, you’re so naive. Boys like that are only after one thing, you mark my words." The woman chuckles, seeming genuinely amused. "What prospects does he have anyway, now that he’s given up smithing? I’d want better for you of course, but a good trade like that shouldn’t be sniffed at."

Astrid thunks her head down on the table, growling under her breath. The woman is obsessed with the idea of marrying her off…

"Did you know," her father chimes in merrily, as though oblivious to the tension in the room, "some of the most successful and sought after blacksmiths in the Empire combine smithing with magic, particularly the ability to enchant. The Academy could be a good thing for him after all." She expects her mother to silence him with a glare as she usually would, but to her horror the woman appears to be seriously considering the idea.

"Now that’s something to think about… perhaps he's a better prospect than I thought. He’d take some reigning in of course, but with the right motivation…"

"Stop! I am not going to marry Wulf! Not ever! I’m with Bren and that’s that."

"If I get even a sniff that you and Bren are still pursuing this ridiculous romance, you won’t be going back to the Academy at all." Her mother says coldly. Astrid's stomach drops.

"You wouldn’t..." 

"I agreed to let you go because it opened up options to you socially. You can make connections there that you could never dream of making here, you could find someone with real status. And out of the two of them, you didn’t even opt for the one with a trade! If it's a farm hand you want, you may as well have just stayed here. It’s not difficult Astrid, why can’t you seem to understand?"

Astrid scoffs, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "When I came home you were livid at the idea that the Academy had allowed me to "fraternise and fornicate", that’s what you called it wasn’t it? Now it sounds like you’re encouraging it!"

"With the right man, perhaps." Astrid gapes as her mother explains calmly. "But there’s more to it than that. If you give a man the honey for free he won’t buy the jar. You have to make him want the honey so badly that he’ll buy the jar, the bees and the whole hive just in hope of a taste. There are plenty of men at that Academy who have the potential to raise you to greatness, if you play it right."

"What about my potential for greatness? I don’t need a husband to make a name for myself. If you’d bothered to ask about my studies you’d know how well I’m doing…"

"More than likely you won’t though. Realistically, what career prospects do you have? A teacher perhaps, or one of those silly adventurers? Every young wizard imagines they’ll become some sort of master of magic one day, but if it were that easy there’d be a mage living in an enchanted tower on every street. Academic magic is just an upper class hobby, a chance for them to show off their wealth, that’s why the Academy fees are so high.”

“Then why give us scholarships? They obviously saw something in us that they thought was worth forfeiting the fees over.”

“Oh Astrid,” she replies with an infuriatingly patronising edge of sympathy, “the wealthy like to shower occasional charity on those less fortunate. It makes them feel better about themselves. That’s all this is, you mustn’t let it go to your head.” 

She opens and closes her mouth a few times in disbelief, wanting to argue the point that if that were true they wouldn’t be at the top of their class. But from the look on her mother’s face, she’s long since made up her mind on the subject.

“Well mother, you’ve given me a lot to think about.” Astrid says, schooling her face to look calm despite wanting to shake the woman. “So can I see Eadwulf still or not?”

Her mother raises one sharp eyebrow, mouth set in a thin straight line. “Not if it means going to the Ermendrud farm. He and Bren are practically joined at the hip."

“So that’s a no then…”

“Not necessarily. I’m interested to see if the two of you could be a good match. After all, whether he turns out to be a genuine prospect or not, you could clearly do with the practice." Her mother nods to herself as though it all makes perfect sense. "Your father can go and fetch him here tomorrow morning.”

Astrid drops her head to the table again with a groan.

***************************

She half expects her father to return alone when he sets off the next morning, trudging off to do her mother's bidding like some sort of begrudging henchman. But when he returns almost an hour later, Wulf is indeed with him. Hurrying down to meet them at the front door, she hesitates on her way through the living room, where her mother sits by the unlit fireplace darning socks.

"I was wondering mother," she begins sweetly, "if Eadwulf and I could walk into town together? It’s such a lovely morning, and I’ve been here for a week now without going so far as the front gate. It would be a shame to waste such fine wea..."

"No." Her mother cuts her off dismissively, not even looking up from her needlework. Astrid glares at her.

"But mother..."

"I said no." The older woman snaps. Astrid bites her cheek to stop herself from saying something that might end in her getting a slap. "You can go to the meadow and no further, I want you where I can see you. Even if I trusted you not sneak off to meet Bren, Eadwulf is notorious. He'll have you on your back given half the chance, and I really don’t need the stress of a teenage pregnancy."

Astrid tuts. "I do actually have some restraint Mother. And Wulf hasn’t got anyone pregnant."

"That we know about." Her mother mutters. "You’ll go to the meadow and nowhere else."

That's something at least, she consoles herself, heading for the door. Her father is just opening it as she gets there and, without a word, she catches Wulf's arm and turns him around, leading him back out down the front path and through the gate to the meadow beside the house.

"So," he begins with a grin as they stroll arm in arm through the knee high wildflowers, "your father tells me your mother might want you to marry me."

She grimaces. "He actually told you all that? Just blurted it out as though it’s totally normal…"

Wulf nods in amusement. "I must say, I’m flattered, but I don’t think Bren will be very happy to hear we’re engaged."

"They’re ridiculous Wulf. They won’t let me go out, I haven’t left the house in a week, and now my mother's talking about me seducing a lord at school. She kept going on about honey, and bee hives..." she sighs tiredly. "She says I can’t see Bren again this summer."

"We gathered that from the abuse he got when he tried to come and see you." He smiles down at her dryly. "Your father gave me a lecture about taking up smithing again and learning to enchant. What’s that about? I bloody hate enchanting class."

"Apparently, you having prospects as a blacksmith enchanter would make you a valid option for me to fall back on should I fail to snag an upper class husband at the Academy. And she seems to want me to use you as practice, despite that she thinks you’re a slut and I’d be powerless to resist your charms."

"Too right I'm a slut, and a good one at that." He laughs, puffing out his chest. "She’s a cheeky bitch your mother."

"That’s an understatement. She’s an evil cretinous witch." Astrid cranes her neck to get a good look at his face, pleased to see the cut across his nose all but gone and only a faint bruise left behind. "You’re looking better."

"I had a good nurse." He shrugs.

"What did you tell Bren's parents?"

"The truth. I didn’t want them finding out from someone else, they’ve been good to me. They were disappointed, but more worried than anything. But never mind that, what are we going to do about you?"

"I haven’t a clue." She says wearily, flopping down to sit in a patch of dry grass. "But she says if she suspects that Bren and I are still together by the end of summer, she won’t let me go back to the Academy."

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, sitting beside her and letting out a deep breath. "Scheiße..."

They sit in silence for a while soaking up the late morning sun, Astrid just enjoying not feeling alone for the first time in days. It was hard enough being across town from Bren and Wulf, now she feels more isolated than ever. After wanting so badly for the summer to come, now all she wants is to be back at school with just a corridor and an overzealous matron between them.

"Ok." Wulf says abruptly, startling her. "So the way I see it, there are two ways of dealing with this."

"Right…?"

"We either pretend you’ve broken up with Bren and you’re dating me now..." They exchange sceptical looks, shaking their heads in unison. "Or, you take a leaf out of my book, and get creative."

"Creative?" She asks warily.

He shoots her a lopsided grin. "Creative."

****************

Holding on for dear life halfway down the trellis under her window with only moonlight to guide her, Astrid wonders if Wulf is really the most reliable person to seek advice from.

She breathes a heavy sigh of relief as her feet find the ground, pausing to listen for any sign that her parents have somehow heard her or anticipated her escape. Hearing nothing but the summer night wind rustling the meadow grass beside the house, she casts Mage Hand to quietly close the window, and makes a break for it.

She scales the waist high garden wall easily enough even in the dark, not wanting to risk the metallic squeak of the rusted hinges on the gate, and then she’s out into freedom, running through the meadow on a dusty track lit only by the murky light of Catha. She's equal parts euphoria and fear as her dash takes her through a narrow gap in a hedge to another field, deep plough furrows slowing her progress to a plodding walk between the long straight mounds of piled earth. Far to the west, silhouetted against Catha, she can just make out the shape of one of the tall guard towers that surround Blumenthal's fertile farmland at regular intervals, keeping an ever present watch for bandits or dangerous beasts or would-be saboteurs. She’s never been quite sure whether she feels safer as a result of their presence or oppressed, and judging by the mutterings of many of the town's residents, she’s not the only one. Hoping she’s far enough away not to be noticed by the lookouts in the tower, she presses on determinedly.

She’s sweating as she nears a small copse of birch trees between two fields that mark the mid point of the journey to Bren's farm, though whether the perspiration beading on her forehead is down to nerves or her exertion in the warm night air she’s unsure.

Edging into the trees the moonlight wanes under the thin canopy, shrouding everything in ominous shadows, the thin silver trunks seeming to glow ethereally. Astrid shivers despite the day's leftover heat in the air. An owl hoots somewhere above her, fluttering out of the trees noisily.

"Astrid!" She hears whispered loudly from the other side of the small stand of trees.

Grinning, she makes her way carefully through the copse and finds Bren waiting for her. She laughs in delight and half leaps at him, throwing her arms around his neck as he closes his own around her waist and holds her tight. She tucks her nose into his neck and breathes him in, sighing in relief at seeing him again.

"I’ve missed you." He murmurs against her lips before kissing her. It’s as needy and heated and perfect as she’d anticipated. Backed up against a tree trunk with Bren's hands all over her and her tongue in his mouth, she decides Wulf gives pretty good advice after all.

When they both finally feel thoroughly reacquainted, hand in hand they break the cover of the trees at a steady run, eager to be in the safety of the farmhouse despite it being extremely unlikely there’ll be anyone out here at this time of night to spot them.

When they reach the farm, Bren helps her over the yard wall and they creep as quietly as possible over the hard packed dirt around the side of the house. A tall wooden ladder leans against the side of the building under his window. She gives a little gasp as he presses a kiss to her backside when she begins to climb, grinning up at her wolfishly. She stifles a giggle and continues her climb, taking Wulf's hand as he comes to help her through the small window when she reaches the top.

"Welcome to the bachelor pad." He whispers when she’s in, leaning out of the window again to help Bren up.

"It certainly smells like your dorm at school." She smirks, the odour of unwashed bodies and socks oddly comforting in its familiarity. Strange the things you miss when they’re gone, she thinks to herself.

"Now, before I wake up to any awkward noises in the middle of the night, are you two sure you don’t want me to go and wait in the barn while you have some alone time together?" Wulf asks, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Wulf..." Bren warns quietly. Astrid feels her cheeks heat, giving serious thought to taking him up on the offer.

Bren's bedroom is small, with space enough for his single bed against one wall, a small wardrobe and a rickety looking wooden chair beside the window. The floor space is almost entirely taken up by a makeshift pallet, which Wulf flops down onto with a yawn.

She and Bren carefully and quietly squeeze into his little bed just as they used to do on weekend mornings at the Academy, Astrid feeling a familiar comfort in the way they just seem to fit together. She squeaks as something lands on her legs all of a sudden, looking down to find Frumpkin turning around and around at the bottom of the bed between their feet, searching for a comfy spot to sleep. Bren rolls his eyes and tuts at the old cat, but she can’t help but smile at the obvious fondness she sees there.

Wulf's gentle snores start up quickly, but though it’s well past midnight and the run most of the way here tired her, Astrid finds sleep elusive. By the way Bren smiles at her in the pale moonlight, he can’t sleep either.

"I missed you so much." She sighs in a whisper. "What if this is the only way we can see each other till school starts again?"

"It’s only a few more weeks." He whispers back, kissing her forehead. "And Hochsommer is coming up soon, I’m sure we can manage to sneak off during the celebrations in town."

"Still. I hate her Bren." She growls under her breath. He chuckles soothingly, rubbing small circles on her back with his fingertips.

"I think I love you." He breathes against her neck, barely loud enough for her to hear. She takes a shaky breath and licks her lips nervously, sad to find she’s unable to get the words out to say it back. She kisses him instead, hoping he doesn’t notice. I just need more time...

Eventually she drops off into a deep sleep, more restful than any she’s had since the summer break began.

**************

Astrid wakes with a start to the harsh sound of a rooster crowing, the noise loud through the open window. It’s still dark out, but she can just see hints of the sky lightening toward the east. Bren stirs beside her, nuzzling into her hair and pressing kisses to her cheeks and nose. She giggles softly, aware of Wulf still snoring on the floor beside the bed.

"That hurensohn rooster always starts crowing so early… But in this case, it might be for the best. My parents will be up soon." He whispers regretfully.

"It’s alright, I need to be back in my own bed by sun rise."

Still fully dressed from the night before they slip on their shoes and carefully step over Wulf, managing to negotiate both window and ladder silently. Bren insists on walking her back, stowing the ladder in the barn before they go.

"Leave no evidence." He winks at her, making her shake her head ruefully.

Together, they creep over the farmyard wall and down the track towards her home, heading west with the slowly rising sun warming their backs, it's orange glow stretching their shadows ahead of them.

"When can I see you next?" She asks as they reach the birch copse where he’d waited for her the night before.

"We’re supposed to be cutting and bailing the hay for the next three days if the weather stays good. After that though, same place same time? Unless it’s raining..."

She nods, entwining her fingers with his. "Same place, same time, unless it’s raining. It’s a date. And until then..." she reaches up to cup his cheek and pull him into a searing kiss, quickly finding herself backed up against a tree again as he presses himself against her eagerly. They only break apart begrudgingly when she catches sight of the sun now standing fully above the distant tree tops of the woods to the east, realising they’re pushing it for time.

With a final goodbye and a lingering look at his retreating back heading off over the fields in the opposite direction, she breaks the cover of the trees and heads towards home, snatching up a handful of vibrant poppies, cornflowers and daises as she goes, a dreamy smile on her face.

Her joy is short lived as she approaches the house however, when she catches sight of her mother peering grim faced out of the living room window. Astrid can make out the woman's sharp glare when she spots her, even as far away as the garden gate. Thinking on her feet, she puts on a smile and heads confidently for the front door, glad that in their small rural town, no one ever bothers to lock their doors even at night. It had been strange for her to discover that difference in the city.

She opens the heavy oak door and smiles cheerily upon seeing her mother. "Good morning Mutter."

"Where have you been?" The older woman asks coldly, arms crossed under her bosom and foot tapping impatiently.

"For a walk in the meadow." She presents the small bunch of flowers as evidence, glad that she'd happened to collect them. "I assumed I was allowed out that far after yesterday?"

Her mother eyes her suspiciously, but her shoulders seem to relax minutely. "At this time? It's early for you to be awake, barely past daybreak."

"I couldn’t sleep, you gave me a lot to think about yesterday." She smiles pleasantly. Thank goodness for an unforgiving mother and no siblings to blame mishaps on making me a good liar... "I'd best put these in a vase before they wilt." She says, heading for the kitchen as though the conversation is over. To her relief, her mother doesn’t press the issue.

Three days, she thinks to herself, three days and I can see him again. Four weeks and we'll all be back in a rickety carriage travelling to the Academy, and she can’t reach me there. The thought was aimed to cheer her, but laying the flowers on the counter top and staring glumly at the jolly red, white and blue blooms, Astrid comes to the conclusion that the next four weeks are going to seem like months to her if things carry on the way they are...

Chapter 14: A Dangerous Game

Notes:

This is a pretty long one, but hopefully that’s a good thing! In terms of warnings, there is a little bit of smut. And there is a whole sentence of dodgy Zemnian in this one, but the translation should hopefully be pretty clear from the context. As always, I hope this finds you all well and doing ok still despite everything going on in the world at the moment x

The next three days drag, just as Astrid had thought they would. Bad enough that she can't see them, but on top of that, she's confined to the house still.

In an effort to rectify that at least, she sets about being the best daughter that ever lived, helping with chores, being extraordinarily pleasant, and not once mentioning Bren or seeming in any way love-sick. And to her surprise, it seems to be working.

"You’ve been cheerful," her mother remarks on the third day as they fold laundry together in the garden, "more so than I expected."

"Like I said the other morning, you gave me a lot to consider. Maybe I have been hasty." Astrid shrugs, reaching for another sheet from the drying line as her mother tosses a newly folded one into a wicker basket.

"We learn by making mistakes." Her mother nods, and frankly, the reasonableness of it takes Astrid by surprise. Maybe this game I'm playing will pay off after all... no harm in having a little fun with the old bag along the way...

"Perhaps I have been selling myself short." She adds a well timed sigh for effect. "But I could really use some instruction mother. Like you were saying before, the rich use the Academy as a symbol of status. My humble upbringing stands out like a sore thumb. And I don’t have beauty to fall back on either." She adds at the end to see what her mother's reaction will be, not expecting much in the way of flattery.

"No, you don't, and you will have to work harder because of it." Far from being insulted, Astrid smiles to herself, quickly hiding her amusement and schooling her face to a grim determination. She’s long since given up expecting any kind of praise from her mother, and besides, she's never seen herself as pretty anyway.

"What should I do mother? You used an analogy the other day, about honey?" She asks innocently.

"It depends on the man." Her mother replies, in a voice that makes her sound like an expert on the subject, despite her having ended up marrying Astrid's low earning civil servant father. "But broadly, what they all need is slow and subtle convincing. And even better, convincing them while you make them think it was all their own idea. All men have enormous egos, and they like a pursuit. It gets their blood racing, and before they know it, they’re yours. They see you as prey, when you are in fact the predator."

It takes a great effort for Astrid to stop herself from laughing outright. Predators and prey... The woman is ridiculous. "Thank you mother, I shall take that onboard."

 

***************

 

That night, as she climbs down the trellis and sprints across the fields toward the birch copse to meet Bren, she thinks back to the conversation with her mother, chuckling to herself.

"What are you looking so happy about?" He smiles down at her after she flings herself into his arms and kisses him.

"Something my mother said." She answers, running her fingers over the front of his shirt to make him shiver. It has the desired effect, and she starts to wonder if there's some truth to her mother's words after all. He grunts disinterestedly in acknowledgement of what she said, but when he bends his head to kiss her again, she ducks away. "We should get back to yours, you must be tired after working hard in the fields the past three days."

"Not too tired to spend some time alone with you." He grins suggestively. Her stomach flutters, but she sticks with it.

"I don’t know, you look pretty tired. I wouldn’t want to wear you out when we have so far to walk." She says, sounding as concerned as she can manage while trying not to grin. 

"Ja, you’re probably right." He sighs, nodding in agreement.

"Oh... really?" Astrid frowns in confusion. She'd been sure she had him where she wanted him.

A sudden smirk quirks his lips. "Nice try, but you forget who you’re playing games with, Schatz. I can read you like a book." Astrid is sure that shouldn’t make her feel the way it does, but warmth floods her from head to toe and it’s her turn to shiver. He moves to kiss her again, but it’s soft and slow, and when she tries to grab a fistful of his shirt to deepen it, he pulls away grinning.

"It’s not becoming of you to play me at my own game." She sniffs haughtily.

"It’s not becoming of you to play games at all. Or necessary. You know I’ll give you anything you want if you just ask. What did you want anyway?"

"You know my mother wants me to seduce some rich kid at school?" He nods in response. "I asked her how today, just as a joke. I suppose I wanted to see if there was anything in it."

"So you were trying to seduce me by teasing me." He crosses his arms sternly but the amusement is still plain on his face.

"Only a little. And you would have enjoyed the result." Astrid purses her lips and looks up at him innocently, noting his rough swallow and feeling a little bit victorious at least.

He looks down at her fondly, stroking a thumb across her cheek. "Astrid, it’s ok not to be very savvy with pulling people's strings. Some of us are just better at it than others."

"I’m savvy!" She says, offended. "I’m perfectly capable of manipulating you, or anyone else, I just need some practice is all…"

"I don’t know, I think possibly it’s just not what you’re good at, and that’s fine, really it is." He replies, voice irritatingly sympathetic.

"I know what you’re doing Bren." She sighs, pressing both hands to his chest and walking him backwards till he bumps up against a tree. "If you’re going to be difficult, maybe it’s time I was more direct."

He quirks an eyebrow, voice low. "You’re a fast learner. I’m intrigued."

"Oh you have no idea..." She leans up to mutter against his throat before kissing a trail downwards, unfastening shirt buttons as she goes.

"You keep kissing me like that and you won’t need to manipulate me into doing anything ever again..." his breath catches and his eyes go wide as she reaches his stomach and unfastens his belt, settling on her knees in front of him without a care for the dirt.

"Can I?" She asks, hands poised on the button of his trousers.

He swallows hard as he looks down at her, his confidence from before all but gone as he seems stunned. "Yes please."

Distantly, the thought occurs that she should feel embarrassed, or nervous, or even scandalised about doing this with him. Listening to her friend's giggling accounts of their own experiences back before she left for the Academy, she could never have imagined ever wanting to use her mouth on someone. But with Bren gasping and moaning above her, his fingers reflexively tangling in her hair as he gently guides her into the rhythm he needs, hips making small desperate jerks as his cock spasms against her tongue when he finishes, she finds herself feeling nothing but smug satisfaction. Once again that feeling of power is there, giving her newfound confidence.

When he sits down shakily against the tree trunk afterwards to catch his breath, she sits beside him and rests her head on his shoulder, grinning.

"Das... das war... erstaunlich. Und... ekelhaft. Geht es dir gut, Schatz?" He pants out, looking down at her concernedly.

Astrid bursts out laughing, raising a breathy chuckle from him in return. "Of course I'm fine. And it was a little... disgusting seems harsh... weird perhaps, at worst. But more than worth it if it was good enough to make you forget how to speak Common. Are you ok?"

"So ok." He grins lopsidedly, kissing the top of her head. "I’ll have to do that to you next time, let you have a chance to practice our native tongue. Pardon the pun."

She frowns, scrunching up her nose. "You can do that to a woman? Is that a thing?"

"Mhm." He nods. "So Wulf says anyway." 

They stay like that for a while, enjoying spending time together just the two of them for once. Astrid watches the stars in the clear night sky, and tracks the twin moons as they trudge their slow paths across the pitch black expanse, silently speculating what their surfaces might look like up close. With her head against Bren's chest, his heart beating a comforting rhythm in her ear, she wonders what he’s thinking about. Probably magical equations or somatics knowing him, she thinks to herself with a smile.

Her thoughts stray to his whispered confession the other night, and how she couldn’t quite bring herself to say the words back to him then. Her stomach twists with guilt; she knew exactly how she felt at the time, just as she has for a few months now if she’s honest with herself. But there’s a difference between feeling a thing like that and being brave enough to say it out loud...

"Wulf will be wondering where we are." He sighs, followed by a yawn. Taking a deep breath, he stretches out his back and rolls his shoulders, preparing to stand.

"I think I love you too." She blurts out, stopping him in his tracks.

He blushes, looking at his feet nervously. "I didn’t think you’d heard me say that the other night... You do?"

"I do. At least, I think I do. I’m as sure as I can be." She flusters. He smiles the warmest, most earnest smile she's ever seen and rubs his nose tenderly against hers.

 

****************

 

Astrid smiles, stretching languidly as she wakes to Bren's lips pressing feather light kisses to her cheeks, over the line of her jaw and down her throat. She’s just about to roll her hips against his sleepily when she remembers Wulf is only a few feet away. With a sigh, she forces her eyes open.

"Good morning." He whispers, pecking her on the lips. "Rooster crowed, time to get up."

She groans quietly, burying her face against his shoulder. "Nein, I’m going to just live here from now on. You can hide me in the attic, it’ll be fine."

"That might not look great when the crownsguard come looking for you. Your mother will take great delight in having me up before Starosta Olessia for kidnap."

"I would tell them all I was a willing victim. Very willing." He smirks at her, leaning in to kiss her. Their lips are mere millimetres from touching when a pillow smashes into the side of Bren's face, knocking him back with a surprised grunt.

"Shut up with your canoodling at this hour." Wulf mutters tiredly from the floor. "Get home before your mother catches you."

"She was awake when I went home the other morning." Astrid mumbles sourly.

"What?" Bren hisses, sitting up to look at her worriedly. "Why didn’t you say? Then we need to be quicker this time. What did she do?"

"I managed to convince her I'd been for a walk in the meadow because I couldn’t sleep. Luckily I’d picked some flowers on the way home or I don’t think she’d have believed me."

"Maybe... maybe we shouldn’t see each other again for a while." Bren suggests quietly. She opens her mouth to protest but he cuts her off by continuing. "I’d rather miss you for a few weeks than miss you for months when she stops you returning to the Academy."

"It won’t come to that." She replies indignantly.

He scoffs. "It might. Can we afford to risk it?"

"Plan A." Wulf says groggily as he sits up, rubbing a hand over his face. They both look over at him confusedly.

"Plan A?" Astrid asks, before it suddenly dawns on her what he means. "No." She shakes her head in horror. "No, we can’t Wulf. It’s too weird."

"Weird for a few weeks is better than the alternative." He says tiredly.

Bren frowns, looking between them both. "Will one of you tell me what Plan A is?"

"Plan A is ridiculous and we’re not doing it!" She hisses, only just remembering to keep her voice down so as not to wake Bren's parents.

"Plan A is me and Astrid pretending to be seeing each other so her mother thinks she’s not with you any more." Wulf explains. Astrid peers at Bren worriedly in the early dawn light to gauge his reaction. His expression is blank for a moment, before breaking into a wide grin. Well at least he’s not annoyed, she thinks, relieved.

"See, it’s stupid." She says to Wulf flippantly, folding her arms over her chest.

"It’s brilliant." Bren laughs. Wulf begins to chuckle to her other side and Astrid stares at them both in disbelief.

"No it isn’t! It’s... it’s..."

The bedroom door suddenly opens, revealing Una Ermendrud still in her rollers and night gown, with her hands on her hips and an eyebrow raised, looking extremely unimpressed.

"Downstairs. Now." Is all she says before vacating the doorway, but her motherly authority has all three of them moving immediately, if reluctantly.

The three teens sit around the small kitchen table in silence as Una unhurriedly fills a kettle, lights the stove and puts the water on to boil, seeming to ignore their presence entirely. She busies herself with putting away last nights dishes as the water slowly heats, the kettle's eventual shrill whistle only adding to the tension in the room. As she pours out five cups of steaming tea, Leofric comes to sit with them, his expression grave as he methodically loads the chamber of his pipe with tobacco and lights it. Astrid notices Bren swallow thickly as he studiously examines his fingers steepled on the table.

"So," Una says conversationally as she finally comes to join them at the table, "you’ve been sneaking around at night. I assume your parents are unaware of your adventures Astrid?"

"Yes, Frau Ermendrud." She says quietly, looking meekly down at the cup in front of her.

"And I take it that’s because they wouldn't approve of you sneaking into my son's bedroom late at night?"

"No, Frau Ermendrud. I’m sorry Frau Ermendrud."

Una nods once before turning her attention to Bren. "And I suppose she just turned up uninvited did she?"

"No, Frau... Mutter." He mumbles sombrely. Beside him, Wulf snorts a laugh at his slip up, Una's steely gaze settling abruptly on the larger boy.

"And you? What part did you play in all this?" She asks him sternly. Wulf gulps audibly, his eyes widening.

"I... uh..." he fidgets in his seat and looks down at the table, cheeks flushing red. "It was my idea. Sorry Frau Ermendrud."

"I can’t say I’m surprised. Your ingenuity knows no bounds Eadwulf." She says dryly, but Astrid is sure there’s a hint of amusement in the woman's voice. "You’ve all been very disrespectful. Bren, you knew we wouldn’t approve and yet you did it anyway, sneaking your girlfriend into your bedroom in the dead of night... What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"Sorry Herr und Frau Ermendrud." They mutter in unison, heads bowed ashamedly.

"I’ve a mind to march all three of you over to Astrid's house immediately to apologise to her parents in person as well." They look up at her in horror, and her expression softens with a sigh. "And I would too, would it not be hypocritical of me." She looks to Leofric fondly, and he cracks a wry smile with his pipe between his teeth. So that’s where Bren gets that grin of his from... she thinks, barely suppressing a small smile of her own. Bren's mouth twists distastefully at his mother's revelation, and she rolls her eyes at him. "You youngsters didn’t invent being in love, or sneaking into bedrooms late at night you know. Your father and I weren’t always old. Not that I approve mind you. Needless to say, it stops immediately, and if I catch you again... well. You’re not too old yet for a spanking Bren Aldrich Ermendrud."

Bren sinks back into his chair, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "Yes, Mutter. It won’t happen again." She nods at him, seemingly satisfied.

"I’d better be getting home..." Astrid begins, getting to her feet awkwardly when there’s a loud pounding on the front door. Una frowns, striding through the living room and into the hall to investigate. Leofric motions for the rest of them to stay put as he follows.

The insistent knocking reverberates through the house again louder, before they hear the door open. "May we help you?" Una says smoothly.

"Where is she!" Astrid gasps at the sound of her mother's furious voice, stepping back against the wall away from the living room door so she can’t be seen.

"Who?" She hears Una answer, sounding perfectly perplexed.

"Astrid. I know she’s here!" Her mother snaps crossly. Astrid winces in embarrassment at the woman's behaviour.

"I’m afraid I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about." Una replies politely, without even a hint of hesitation.

"Oh of course, probably completely at a loss as to what your degenerate son has been up to! Bren Ermendrud! You bring out my daughter this minute!"

Bren scowls at the living room door before moving toward it, giving Astrid's hand a quick squeeze as he passes.

"I haven’t seen Astrid since you banned me from visiting her." He lies smoothly. She can practically hear his contempt for the woman.

There’s a moment of silence before her mother speaks again. "You’re a wretched delinquent if ever I saw one. Where is she then, if not here with you? Answer me that!"

"Are you calling my son a liar?" Una asks coldly, before Bren has a chance to answer.

"If the shoe fits..." Astrid's mother snarls back.

"If the boy says he hasn’t seen your daughter, he hasn’t seen her." Leofric says sternly. "Now kindly leave our property." The door bangs shut before the woman has a chance at a retort.

As Una, Leofric and Bren re-enter the kitchen, the red headed woman gently smacks her son upside the head with an accompanying tut. "When did you get so good at lying?"

"Apparently I learned from the best." He grins cheekily at her, smoothing his displaced hair.

"Thank you for not giving me up." Astrid says shakily. "I'm sorry about her. She's so embarrassing."

"Like I said, we can empathise." Una smiles reassuringly at her. "What will you do now?"

Astrid sighs out a shuddering laugh with no amusement behind it. "Go home I suppose, and try to convince her I really wasn’t here."

"We’ll try to convince her." Wulf corrects. She winces at him. "Come on Astrid. What other choice do you have, especially now?"

"Wulf's right." Bren adds, coming over to take her hand. "You need an alibi, and he’s the best you’re going to get."

Wulf raises a slightly offended eyebrow at him, but turns his attention back to her without comment. "We can figure out what to say on the way there. Trust me Astrid, when have I ever let you down?"

She scrubs a hand over her face exasperatedly. "Fine. Alright. Anything's worth a try at this point."

Una shakes her head amusedly from the other side of the cramped kitchen where she has begun preparing breakfast. "You three. Honestly, I can’t keep up. You’ll be the death of me."

 

****************

 

"I think I finally have it." Astrid massages her temples in a futile attempt to stave off a headache she can feel quickly building behind her eyes. "We're together, but we’re not too together, and I’m leading you on, yes?"

"Yes. Precisely." Wulf smiles happily beside her as they walk along the dusty lane towards her home, now looming on the slope ahead. Astrid had thought him mad when he first suggested they go the long way round through the town instead of her usual much faster route across the fields, but it made sense once he explained it. Eventually... 

"Step one," he grinned as the pair of them made their way down the sloping track away from the Ermendrud farm towards the town, "play down the drama. Make it look like it’s all been blown up out of proportion and it’ll catch on, things will calm down quicker."

Astrid stared up at him nonplussed. "I know you’re saying words, but all I hear is nonsense..."

Wulf sighed patiently. "She’s going to expect you to come from Bren's over the fields right? So don’t come back across the fields. We turn up, bold as brass as though nothing's wrong, and suddenly you breaking out of house arrest is nothing more than a cheeky misdemeanour. When she asks where you’ve been, we'll say we went for an early morning walk in town because we needed to talk. You can even buy something there as evidence. Your mother will feel stupid for making a scene at Bren's, and probably won’t even admit she went there to find you."

"A cheeky misdemeanour? Have you met my mother?" She asked wryly.

"Just trust me..."

Wulf takes her hand as they approach the house, adjusting his stride to an easy stroll. "Remember, try and look happy, but sort of shy too. Like you can't quite bring yourself to look at me."

"So, like a simpering idiot." She replies dryly.

"Exactly. Just like you were with Bren before you two finally realised you liked each other." She glares up at his amused smirk, growling under her breath. 

Sure enough, as soon as they reach the garden gate the curtains are thrown back into place and not ten seconds later the front door is thrown open.

Wulf chuckles, smoothing his perfectly tidy short cropped hair and casting his eyes down bashfully. "Play along and remember what we talked about. It’ll all be fine. I’m good with mothers, remember." He adds quietly, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. Astrid makes one more sigh before mirroring his body language, fiddling with her hair and smiling shyly.

"Where have you been?" Her mother yells, striding up the path towards them. Astrid gulps, but gives a little jump of surprise as though she'd had no idea the woman had even seen them yet.

"Mother... I... I've just been walking with Wulf. I know I’m meant to stay home, but I just..." she glances at him with a small smile for effect, "...really wanted to see him again."

"And how exactly did you arrange this meeting?" The woman asks harshly, drawing to a halt in front of them and crossing her arms impatiently. You’ve been gone since first light at least. You could have been out all night for all I know!"

"It was my fault." Wulf hastily steps in as Astrid falters, her mouth opening and closing uselessly as she scrambles for their preplanned answer to the anticipated question, forgotten in the heat of the moment. "I couldn’t sleep, I've been thinking about Astrid so much these past few days, I just couldn’t bear it any longer so I sneaked out to see her before dawn. I threw pieces of gravel at her window till she opened it, and asked her to come and walk with me so we could talk. She didn’t want to at first, she was reluctant to disobey you, but I pleaded with her till she eventually took pity of me. I’m sorry to have caused you distress Frau Becke." He smiles one of his most winning smiles, one of those that brings out his dimples. Astrid's seen the effect that smile has on people plenty of times, both at school and in Blumenthal. She almost snorts a laugh, but just manages to hold it in.

"So what’s step two then?" Astrid asked in genuine interest as they approached the town square, still all but deserted at this hour. Wulf flashed her a grin.

"Do a better job of making her like me than Bren did." He answered dryly. "But also make sure she thinks it was all my idea. You’re just a poor, innocent, flower swept up in my charm and my impulsiveness. Until you’re not. But we’ll get to that bit..."

To Astrid's surprise, and horror, her mother's penetrating stare seems to waver for a moment at his charming smile, the hint of a blush forming on the older woman's cheeks. Her glare quickly returns, though it’s markedly less furious. "I see. Well that’s... that's all very well. But Astrid has been told she isn’t to leave without my permission."

"I’m sorry mother, it won’t happen again." Astrid does her best to look thoroughly ashamed.

"No it will not. Now... off with you, Eadwulf. You’ve caused enough trouble as it is." She waves a hand to dismiss him, but the admonishment in her voice is half hearted at best.

He pretends to kiss Astrid's cheek while instead quickly whispering in her ear, "I’ll come and see you tomorrow to see how the rest went. Good luck." He meekly apologises again before heading off making a show of looking glum, hands deep in his pockets.

"I didn’t think you liked him all that much." Her mother mutters suspiciously as she turns to make her way back towards the house. Astrid chances a quick glance at Wulf while her mother isn’t looking, rolling her eyes at the wide grin and encouraging thumbs up he gives her.

"Neither did I, but like I said before, you gave me a lot to think about. He’s really not so bad. Maybe I could even learn to love him one day, if I have to. Hopefully it won’t come to that though." She shrugs nonchalantly, following a few steps behind. Her mother raises an eyebrow at her and pauses on the path.

"What do you mean?"

"Well after considering things from your perspective, I realised you were right. I mean, I do like Bren, but I think maybe I really could do better. I owe it to you to try at least. When I go back to the Academy I’ll do my best to make a play for someone with a title, or at least with money. But in the meantime, it doesn’t hurt to hedge my bets with my next best option, set the groundwork with him, just in case. And if I’m to stand any chance of success attracting a worthy suitor at school, I need to practice on someone. Who better than Wulf?"

"You’re loving this aren’t you." She said, punching Wulf lightly in one of his large biceps. His answering grin was confirmation enough. "Alright, we’re almost there. Step three?"

"Your mother's a scheming, cold bitch right?"

She nodded without hesitation. "Harsh, but accurate..."

"What better way to fill her with motherly pride than you being just like her. Tell her it’s all an act and you’re just using me to practice on before going for the rich kids back at school. She won’t mind because it's a means to the end she wants, she’ll think you took on board what she said, and Bren will be out of the picture."

Astrid shook her head in disbelief. "You brilliant bastard."

"I know." He smirked. "And if I’m right, hopefully she’ll relax her rules and allow you out to see me. Then you and Bren can meet up in secret and she need never find out."

Astrid's mother considers her carefully for a moment, one fingertip tapping the thin line of her lips. She tries not to fidget under the woman's steely gaze, wondering if she’s seen straight through the plan after all.

The woman's lips eventually curve into a sly smile and she resumes her progress up the path. Astrid follows nervously. "Perhaps you’re not as naive as I thought girl. You certainly do need the practice still, but with a scheme like that, maybe there’s hope for you yet." A pace behind her, Astrid's shoulders slump with relief, and she quietly lets out a breath she hadn't realised she’d been holding.

"So I can see him again?" She asks hopefully.

"As long as he behaves himself, he’s welcome here."

"What if she says you can only see me at mine?"

Wulf paused, thinking for a moment. "Tell her we’re seeing each other behind Bren's back and I'm worried he’ll find out and kick me out of his parent's house."

Astrid takes a deep breath. "I’m... not sure that’s possible." She says, pausing at the front door. Her mother turns to look at her with a frown.

"Oh?"

"I think he’d prefer if we could meet somewhere else. Definitely not here since Bren could turn up looking for me again. I mean, I don’t mind, Bren has to find out about us sooner or later. But better it’s not now, with weeks of the summer break still left. If he found out now, Wulf might be kicked out of the Ermendrud's home and have nowhere to stay. And you know what his father is like."

"That might do him some good." Her mother scratches her chin thoughtfully. "After all, for him to be a suitable choice for you at all he needs to go back to his trade at some point..."

"He is! Thinking about it, I mean..." Astrid blurts out quickly, thinking on her feet. "I made sure to mention to him how lucrative smithing can be when paired with enchanting. He seemed pretty keen. Though, given the situation with his father, he said he’d prefer to take up an apprenticeship in Rexxentrum and set up shop there eventually. Much more demand for enchanted items in such a large city after all, compared to here."

Her mother nods. "True, true. I suppose that makes sense. Given that then..." Astrid holds her breath again in anticipation, "...you may meet him away from here. Only him mind! If I get even the slightest hint you’ve been anywhere near Bren, you’ll wish you’d never set eyes on either of them."

"Thank you mother." She grins, trying not to look too relieved. As soon as they’re in the house, Astrid starts up the stairs towards her bedroom.

"Astrid..." her mother's voice stops her halfway up. "Just you remember what I said about him. It’s all well and good you being allowed out to see him, but Wulf has quite the reputation in this town for leading people astray. He’s too handsome for his own good and he knows exactly how to use it. You wouldn’t be the first girl to find herself lost to a good pair of shoulders and a nice smile."

She feels her hackles rise and swallows down the desire to defend him. As if you weren’t mooning over his "nice smile" not ten minutes ago you hypocrite... "I know." She smiles pleasantly instead. "But Mother, it’s like you said, about the honey. I need to practice making those rich suitors at school want me without giving in to them. I've no intention of letting Wulf get his own way, I promise."

Her mother seems satisfied with that answer, nodding curtly before heading off towards the living room. Astrid climbs the rest of the way up the stairs and flops down heavily onto her bed. Grinning, she looks out of the window towards the east where Bren's house lies just a few miles away, and thinks that maybe, finally, things might be looking up.

Chapter 15: Change and Growth

Notes:

Hi to anyone still reading, if you’ve made it this far, well done and thank you! Hope this finds you all safe and healthy, some crazy stuff going on in the world at the moment, almost makes the Academy look inviting! There’s some interesting (well I find it interesting, because nerd and proud...) additions in this chapter courtesy of the beautiful, stupendous, mesmerising, Explorers Guide to Wildemount, which I will mention again in the end notes. Dodgy translations this chapter are as follows;
Verlobte - Fiancée
Verpiss dich - Piss off
Scheißkerl - Bastard
Wichser - Wanker
Heavy on the swearing again... oops... German really is a lovely language to learn, and I abuse it terribly. Sorry Germany.

"So, how did it go?" Wulf asks eagerly as they head into the meadow beside Astrid's house the next day.

She sits down and lays back in the knee high grass, stretching out under the sun's rays with a grin. "She bought it."

"All of it? Even being able to meet away from here?"

"Mhm." She nods, her smile fading into more of a grimace after a moment. "Though she nearly had me at one point, when I said you were worried you’d get thrown out of the Ermendrud's. She seemed to think it would mean you had to go back to smithing with your father."

He shivers, and she’s not entirely sure it’s all for dramatic effect. "How did you convince her?"

"Made up some scheiße about you wanting to take up an apprenticeship in Rexxentrum. I pointed out it would be more lucrative there, and she was sold."

"Aww, look at you mapping out my fake future for me, you'll make a wonderful wife. Should I propose now or later?" He smirks wickedly, laying propped up on one elbow beside her.

"At least take me for dinner first." She sighs dramatically." You’re ok and everything, but I can't lower myself to becoming the wife of a blacksmith before I’ve even tried to find a lord." She squeals, erupting into giggles as he tickles her.

"How dare you." He laughs, flopping down onto his back. "And after I come bearing gifts as well..."

"Gifts?" She asks interestedly, sitting up.

"Go ask your mother to let you off the leash for a while and you might find out." He answers cryptically.

She runs back to the house, finding her mother in the sitting room embroidering what she’s sure is meant to be daisies across the bust of an old dress, but they look more like wonky clouds to her. "Mutter, could Wulf and I go for a walk?"

"A walk where?" She asks, glancing at Astrid suspiciously.

"Just down the valley." She says as innocently as possible. Her mother continues her embroidery in silence for a moment while she considers, and Astrid resists the temptation to shift from foot to foot impatiently.

"Be back in an hour." The woman eventually answers, the warning in her tone clear.

"Thank you Mutter." She calls back, already halfway to the door.

When she returns to the meadow, she finds Wulf dozing in the heat of the midday sun. He starts awake with a muttered curse when she nudges his chest with her boot, grinning down at him. "We only have an hour, let’s go."

"Alright, alright." He gets to his feet with a yawn, brushing the dust and dry grass from the back of his shirt. "Come on then Verlobte." he grins at her and she snorts a laugh, linking arms with him to keep up the charade. As expected, she catches a glimpse of her mother at the front window, watching them as they stroll leisurely past the house on their way down the lane.

As soon as they're out of sight of the house they move apart and pick up their pace. "An hour?" Wulf says incredulously. "That’s all? Plenty of time to have sex, not enough time to do anything fun without nudity. She has an odd idea about time your mother."

"If that’s the present you've got for me you can keep it." She says jokingly. "Save it for Mura." She can’t help but notice his cheeks redden just a touch at the mention of the name. "Eadwulf Grieve, are you missing her?"

He grunts. "I miss her breasts."

"Don’t deflect." She says as they reach the crossroads halfway down the hill. Wulf leads her around the hedge-lined corner onto a smaller road curving west away from the town. She wonders absently where he’s taking her, knowing this old track only leads to a few outlying farms before hitting a dead end.

"A bit..." He mumbles sullenly after a long pause, kicking a stone along the roadside. "Quite a lot actually."

She beams up at him. "They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Well, absence can verpiss dich." He mutters as he kicks another stone, raising a little cloud of dust in its wake. "I don’t want to miss her. I want to enjoy the occasional fuck, with her or one of the others, and I don’t want any stupid feelings getting in the way. I think I’m going to stop seeing her when we go back to school."

"You’re going to stop seeing her because you like her?" She frowns up at him incredulously. "That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

"You’re dumb." He retorts halfheartedly.

She bumps her hip against his affectionately. "Why don’t you give it a try with her instead? Ditch the others, and just try being with one person. You might find you like monogamy." Her only answer is another disparaging grunt, so she gives up with an exasperated sigh.

After a few minutes walking in silence, he leads her through a thin gap to a rough footpath across a fallow field, zig-zagging back up the hillside. "Follow this path till you reach some trees, Bren's waiting for you there."

With a huge grin, she rises on her tip toes to kiss his cheek before sprinting off up the path, conscious of how little time she has.

When she reaches the small thicket of sweet chestnut coppice a few minutes up the track, breathing heavily from the run, Bren all but grabs her as soon as she moves into the deep shaded trees. He peppers kisses over her neck and jaw while she gets her breath back, not that his onslaught helps her to regain control of her breathing. Finally, her mouth finds his in a demanding kiss. He growls when she nips his bottom lip, backing her almost roughly up against a tree trunk to grind his hips against hers.

Astrid gasps as his mouth descends to her collarbone, wishing they had longer. Reluctantly, she finds enough resolve to murmur in his ear sadly, "My mother only gave me an hour." Going still all of a sudden, Bren lets his forehead fall to her shoulder with a frustrated groan.

"It’s never long enough. All I want is to have you to myself for a few hours. No sneaking around, no parents, no matron, no stupid rules or time limits..." he rants. He looks so disheartened, she feels guilty that she can’t stay longer.

"You’re ready aren’t you? For us to have sex." She asks him, cheeks flushing at the brazen question and voice barely above a whisper. Stupid woman, she admonishes herself silently, if you can’t even say it like some bashful little girl, how will you ever know you’re ready... 

He drops his eyes, seeming ashamed. "Yes. But not until you are. And not... not like this. Not rushed..." he sighs embarrassedly. "I’ll wait however long you need Astrid. Even if it’s years. The last thing I want is for you to feel pressured, to regret it after."

Her breath catches in her throat, his reassurance so genuine and heartfelt that it makes her mind up for her. "I'm not going to regret it. I’m ready too." She says smoothing a thumb over his cheek till he lifts his eyes to hers. "But you’re right that we can’t yet. Apart from not having time or a place to go, we need to visit the apothecary first. And I am not doing that in Blumenthal. Everyone knows who we are and not one single person in this town can keep a secret... It’s too risky. Even if my mother thought it was Wulf I was planning on sleeping with, she’d still skin me alive. Maybe one day I’ll want to have your babies, but very definitely not yet."

He nods in agreement. "So we can’t until we get back to Rexxentrum, and there’s nowhere private there anyway." He laughs darkly. "Looks like it’ll be years after all..."

"We’ll find a way. Wulf manages it easy enough." She chuckles, nuzzling his neck. "And at least I can see you now. Even if it’s just for a little while today, the more she trusts me the more I’ll be allowed out. And after that, you and Wulf will only be a corridor away again."

His expression brightens and he sighs happily, kissing her temple. "Back to lazy weekend mornings together, breaking out at night, and studying till we can barely stay awake."

"I think you might be romanticising it a bit." She grins. "But I can’t wait either. Even when it’s bad, it's so good I never want to leave. Blumenthal doesn’t feel like home anymore, the Academy does."

"It does doesn’t it." He says thoughtfully, bending to press a chaste kiss to her lips. "We’d best start making our way back, your hour will be up soon and I promised my mother I’d pick her up some apples in town on my way back."

"We can’t go into town Bren, we can’t be seen together in public." She sighs heavily, pulling him back down for a far less chaste kiss.

"About that..." he mumbles against her lips, whispering something she can’t quite hear. When she pulls back to catch her breath, she squeaks at the sudden sight of Wulf grinning down at her and thumps him in the chest in shock, her hand passing a good inch or so further through the air between them than it should before hitting his real form. Bren grunts, laughing at least with his own voice still.

"Bren! Warn me before you do that!" She giggles, halfheartedly pushing him away as he leans in to kiss her neck. "It’s so weird... I don’t think this is what the Academy had in mind when they taught us Disguise Self." she runs her hands over his illusory heavyset shoulders, watching with fascination as they run through the image.

"Better than impersonating teachers while sneaking out of school at night like the last time... At least I can walk you home now without your mother knowing. As long as I don’t speak to her, she’ll never know the difference."

When they reach the town square, Bren takes his time picking over the apples at three open-fronted grocers before finally settling on what he deems to be suitable produce. "My mother might have been happy to help us out yesterday, but she’s certainly not forgiven me yet. She's making me do every chore possible." He explains, grumbling under his breath. "If I don’t go back home with the most perfect apples she's ever seen, I dread to think what she’ll have me doing tomorrow."

As he attempts to haggle the price down with the trader, Astrid hovers to one side staring disinterestedly out at the square. She catches sight of one of the town criers marching along like a puffed up peacock towards a mounting block, as though he's performing a play to the King himself and not just reading out the news.

"Stuck up little Scheißkerl." Bren whispers in her ear, doing his best impression of one of Wulf's dastardly grins. "No one even listens to them."

"Hm." She agrees, wishing she could flick him in the ear without ruining the disguise. "Before you get into character too much, we should make a move. The centre of town probably isn't the safest place for you at the moment. Just imagine if any of Wulf's dumb fanclub spot you, they’ll be all over you like a rash..."

Bren cringes, looking around worriedly. "Good point, let's go."

They hurry around the square, keeping to the edges as much as possible, Bren holding his brown paper parcel of apples almost like a shield.

The town crier is in full flow as they reach the street they need, leading out of the open square to the West. "Praise to the brave and ever-watchful men of his Majesty's Crownsguard manning the town's guard towers, for thwarting another raid on our lands last night and for keeping us all safe in our beds yet again!" He pauses, seeming to expect some display of cheering or clapping. Not likely, since Astrid knows opinion among the townsfolk is at best mixed on whether the towers should be there at all. Even her father who works for the town administration thinks they’re oppressive, and the so called "raids" are never as substantial as they’re made out to be by the Starosta, barely more than a few bandits on the roads now and then chancing their luck.

As she expected, no one in the square even looks up from their business to acknowledge the town crier's news. He clears his throat looking disgruntled, and carries on with his announcements regardless. "News from Rexxentrum! I regretfully announce the passing of Jorma Margolin, esteemed and highly respected headmaster of the Soltryce Academy..."

Bren and Astrid stop dead at the apex of the corner, earning a gruff "Watch it!" from a man who almost walks into them. They look at each other wide eyed, turning to listen to the rest of the announcement, the only two townspeople to be paying any attention at all to the crier as he continues.

"...The Cerberus Assembly most humbly mourns his loss, and appoints his son Zivan Margolin to succeed him in the post with immediate effect."

"We have a new headmaster then." Astrid frowns, as they start to move on their way again. 

"I doubt it’ll change anything." Bren says reassuringly. "It's his son after all. We hardly ever saw the old headmaster, if we hadn’t heard the proclamation we probably wouldn’t even have realised."

"It doesn’t seem a place where change happens often. I'm sure it’ll be fine." She shrugs, outwardly unconcerned. Inside though, she feels less convinced. What if this new headmaster doesn’t like scholarship students...

Bren seems to read her mind though, as he often does, grinning his familiar grin but unsettling on Wulf's face. "And if it isn’t fine, and they decide to kick us out, at least you can always marry Wulf and be a good blacksmith's wife. How many children will you two have? Seven? Eight?"

She snorts and smacks his arm playfully, her hand travelling through a good inch of illusory muscle before making contact with his real arm. "Keep that up and I will do it too, just to spite you." She laughs.

When they make it up the hill to her house, Bren makes a point of trying to kiss her despite the disguise, sending her into a fit of giggles as she ducks away from him. "Not looking like that you don’t!"

"But just think, we get to kiss and as long as we’re not too close to her your mother would never know it’s really me." he makes a grab for her again which she easily avoids. "Just close your eyes and imagine it’s me..."

"I’m supposed to be acting coy with him, practicing my womanly wiles for the lords at the Academy. She only just trusts him as it is, the moment she suspects I’m letting him get his way she’ll lock me in my room for the rest of the summer."

"Fine, fine." His answering smile is so full of mischief she could almost believe the real Wulf had swapped places with him without her noticing, if it weren’t for the voice. "I’ll see you tomorrow, if your mother will allow it."

"Come over in the morning. I’ll try to convince her to let me out again in the meantime." One quick glance shows her mother predictably watching from the window. "To which end..." Astrid moves close enough to kiss him, the heat in his eyes making her knees a little weak, which is odd since they’re Wulf's eyes and he’s never looked at her in that way. She turns to kiss his cheek just as he’s about to close the gap between their lips, hearing his frustrated little growl as she escapes through the gate, turning to smirk at him. "See you tomorrow."

Her mother gives her an approving nod and a sly smile when she gets inside. "Very good." She says, watching him leave down the lane, completely unaware of the Disguise Self spell. "You’ll have him eating out of the palm of your hand in no time."

"Can I see him again tomorrow?" She asks, pressing her advantage while it’s there. "We were thinking of taking a walk east along the ridge and then back down to follow the river into town. I know it’s a bit far in this heat," she adds innocently, "but it’s a pretty route and I haven’t walked that way in a while."

Her mother stares out of the window for what feels like an eternity before finally answering. "You seem to be handling him well enough, I think I can allow that."

Astrid celebrates silently, keeping her face as calm as she can. "Thank you Mutter."

Notes:

So the two additions from the Explorer's Guide to Wildemount were the guard towers (including the residents' apparent feelings on them), and the change of headmaster. According to the Guide it happened around this time, so I thought I’d add it in.

Chapter 16: Not Normal, Brilliant

Notes:

This one took a while, but it was one of those I planned and just couldn’t work out how to start! Got there in the end though, and hopefully it was worth the wait. Feels, fun, and a small tribute to Liam's Narrative Telephone episode. In the words of one Caleb Widogast: Holla!

Some probably terrible German translations:
Kleine schwester - little sister
Großer Bruder - big brother
Waldhexe - forest witch
Schlagen - slap
Gehen - go
Schnell - quickly

Shouting a hasty goodbye to her mother, Astrid darts out of the front door at the very first sight of Wulf ambling down the lane towards the house, not waiting for a reply. Not wanting to risk the woman changing her mind at the last minute and refusing to allow her to go. Astrid wouldn’t put it past her.

Pausing at the gate, she realises she has absolutely no idea whether this is Bren in disguise or the real Wulf. Frowning at him consideringly, he picks up on her confusion and grins, sauntering on down the road past her without stopping.

"You’re really not going to tell me?" She asks as she catches up to him, putting her hands on her hips and studying him. He shakes his head, grin deepening. "Fine, that’s easily solved, let’s see if there’s an illusion to be disturbed..." She darts a hand out to poke him in the ribs, tutting amusedly and chasing after him when he dodges it, easily evading her attempts to prod him and keeping just as annoyingly silent.

Giving up with a frustrated huff she moves to block his path, standing in front of him with her arms crossed and realising too late that she's pouting. Finally, his deep laugh at the sight of her petulance gives him away.

"Wulf! What if I’d tried to kiss you!" This time when she approaches to smack him lightly in the chest he doesn’t dart away, instead grabbing her under the arms and hoisting her over his shoulder before she even has time to yelp.

"Then you’d have figured it out quicker." He says dryly, beginning to walk again as though her weight is nothing. Which, she realises, with his build it probably isn’t.

"Where's Bren, I thought the whole point of using Disguise Self was that he could pick me up and walk me home?" Wriggling free of his arm slung loosely over her hips she drops to her feet to walk alongside him, smoothing out her wrinkled skirt and blouse.

"He said he wanted to walk you home instead and was saving his energy for spells to study while he waits for us. I hope your mother gave you longer than an hour today?"

She looks up at him with a frown. "I can probably get away with four hours perhaps. I wasn’t specific when I asked, but the route I told her we were walking will only take about that long. Waits for us where?"

"You’ll see." Is the only answer he gives, accompanied by an infuriating smirk. She growls under her breath, which only seems to add to his amusement.

Heading down to the valley floor they eventually meet the main road and head west towards the mill. Crossing the small stone bridge there they duck off the road and up into the sparse trees lining the river running parallel, to avoid Wulf's family forge. She grips his hand as they pass, far enough into the dappled shade that they know they won’t be seen, but  Wulf still flinches at the ringing clang of hammer on metal that sounds from the open fronted workshop. They’re a long way past when his broad shoulders finally relax again.

As the road begins to slant upward toward the valley's entrance, Wulf leads her further into the trees, and finally she realises their destination. They cross the thin stretch of land between road and river through a thick stand of pine, clambering over smooth weather-worn boulders which become more numerous the closer they get to the water's edge.

"You know if anyone finds us here, we’ll be in really big trouble." She says as she sits on a large flat topped rock to remove her shoes and stockings. Wulf grins one of his characteristic mischievous grins, sitting beside her to remove his own footwear.

"If you’re scared, you can always run off back home to your Mutter, kleine schwester."

She looks up at him in surprise, glad that he’s too intent on cursing under his breath at his uncooperative shoe laces to notice her surprise, or the fondness she knows is plain on her face as she smiles at him. She supposes he is a bit like a brother, but hearing him call her little sister makes her realise just how much she loves him. Just as much as she loves Bren in truth, though not in the same way.

"I’m no coward, großer Bruder." She smiles. He lifts his head and beams at her.

With their feet bare, they paddle out into the gently flowing ankle deep shallows. Astrid bunches up her skirt to her knees, the excess material tucked into the crook of her elbow to keep it dry. The river is wide here, a good thirty feet across and only deepening towards the middle. Hemmed in by thick trees and undergrowth on one side and the steep valley side on the other, it feels like another world compared to the open, gently sloping meadows and fields of the rest of Blumenthal. The banks narrow considerably just a few hundred meters behind them downstream, the effects of the bottleneck and the slight downward slope of the valley floor running eastward driving the water into a much stronger flow by the time it reaches the mill. Here, just to the north of the comparatively gentle gradient the road follows up the hill, lies the true beginning of the enormous valley the town is situated in.

Walking against the meagre current, Astrid stares up at the reason so few of Blumenthal's residents ever dare to make this trip. A looming, jagged rock face rising forty metres straight up ahead of them, the stone blotted with mustard yellow lichen and scored by deep ruts populated every now and then by ivy and hardy shrubs, their woody roots clinging anywhere they can find purchase.

The seemingly solid wall of rock is daunting enough, but Astrid knows where they’re headed and despite Wulf's apparent confidence beside her, her stomach is knotted with nerves. At the foot of the rock face, the mouth of a cave comes into view, dark and as wide as the river, but too low even for her to walk through without stooping.

It’s one of the very few places in Blumenthal that mothers insist their children avoid, the message drummed into them almost from birth with nightmare inducing stories of volatile spirits, enormous child-eating spiders and the Waldhexe. Even in her late teens Astrid knows few who have attempted the journey through the cave, even fewer who actually made it to the other side without turning back early.

"Have you been in there before?" She asks, trying to keep the anxiety from her voice. He gives her a look, his wry grin giving all the answer she needs. "Of course you have. Probably had a lover in there knowing you..." she grumbles, just loud enough for him to hear over the sound of the water rushing around their ankles.

He snorts a laugh. "For once, no. I’ve only been through once before today, and honestly, I was terrified. You and Bren are the only people I’d ever admit that to." She adjusts her skirts over her arm as they approach the pitch black cavern, peering into the darkness unsurely. "I promise you it’s worth it on the other side, but you really don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I’ll shout Bren to come back through and we’ll just stay here instead."

"I said I’m not a coward." She replies, wishing she sounded like she meant it.

"It’s not cowardly to be frightened of a cramped dark cave with a ton of local ghost stories attached to it." She narrows her eyes at him. Why did he have to mention the ghost stories... "It’s normal to be scared."

"Then why aren’t you scared?" She asks in a small voice, swallowing hard as she turns back to stare at the darkness.

"Because we’re not normal. We’re brilliant." He smiles at her encouragingly as he moves past into the gloom, holding out a hand. He has to duck down almost into a crouch to clear the rough stone roof. With one last look back over her shoulder at the river, she takes his hand with a deep sigh, hoping she doesn’t regret this. "Bren!" Wulf's shout echoes eerily as they begin to move into the dark. Within seconds, four round globules of yellowish light appear in a chain moving towards them rapidly.

"You could have told me there’d be light!" She chastises, smacking him in the shoulder, relief flooding through her as the inside of the cave is illuminated by Bren's Dancing Lights cantrip.

Wulf grins at her over his shoulder. "But now you get the satisfaction of knowing you overcame your fear. You have the courage of a lion Astrid. A very small lion but still..."

She rolls her eyes, knowing she’s pouting again and not caring. "Enough digs about my height. I’m not short, you’re just very tall." As if to emphasise her point, he promptly bumps his head on a low point in the roof, muttering a curse. She winces in sympathy but is promptly distracted by a large cobweb brushing over her face, giving an embarrassing shriek and flapping her free hand to snatch it out of her hair.

The cavern remains as wide inside as the entrance, a good thirty feet across, the water swirling gently around their feet as the floor undulates leaving slightly deeper pools in places where the rock of the cave floor has worn down over time. The chain of lights moving with them shows small rises in places too, piles of smaller rocks and larger single boulders that they have to navigate around, leaving deeply shadowed cracks and scars in the roof where they fell away. It’s another reminder of how stupid this is, the fact that the whole place looks as though it could come down around them at any moment, but Astrid takes a deep breath to soothe her rising sense of claustrophobia, albeit gripping Wulf's hand just a little tighter.

It feels like hours have passed by the time they make it through, though she knows it’s only been a few minutes, the bright daylight making her squint despite the glowing orbs that accompanied them inside. Blinking as she steps out and straightens, she's forced to agree with Wulf, it really was worth it.

Yellow-grey rock rises all around them in a huge bowl-shaped, sheer sided canyon a good sixty feet wide, the stone broken up here and there by great falls of ivy and winding honeysuckle, a layer of vibrant green moss coating the rock for ten feet above the waterline all the way around. The shallow pebbled floor falls away sharply only a few metres out from the cave mouth, leaving a wide round pool of dark cerulean water she can only guess the depth of. And directly opposite the cave, spilling from a large dark recess halfway up the high canyon wall, a waterfall plummets into the pool below, churning the water directly underneath to white froth, a faint mist of spray drifting all the way to where she stands.

"I’d heard it was beautiful, but I thought it was just exaggeration." She breathes as Bren rises from his seat on a boulder beside the cave mouth and steps up beside her, putting an around her shoulders and kissing her cheek.

"I thought you’d like it, Schatz." He beams down at her, rubbing his nose against hers. Just as she’s about to lean up to kiss him, cold water rains down on them both in a violent splash, making them jerk apart. A few seconds later, Wulf bobs up from where he jumped into the pool, grinning from ear to ear.

"Stop being gross and get in." He smirks, swimming a few strokes before diving back under the surface. Astrid is relieved to see that at least he's still wearing his underwear, as he kicks up his feet in another spray of droplets and disappears from view.

Keeping their own undergarments firmly on, they leave their clothes on the same flat topped boulder beside the cave mouth as Wulf did, before jumping into the water together in twin splashes. It’s so cold it takes Astrid's breath away, but after the unrelenting heat of midsummer, once she gets used to it she has to admit it’s refreshing.

By the time the three of them haul out of the water again onto a thin shelf beside the waterfall, the sun has climbed to almost its full height in the sky, signalling that it’s close to midday. She leans back against the canyon wall, the sun warmed moss pleasant against her back after the water's chill.

"I could stay here forever." She sighs, shutting her eyes.

"I bet it’s really creepy at night." Bren says. "Who knows, maybe some of the stories our parents told us about this place are real. They had to come from somewhere."

"Yes, perhaps at night the spirits wail inside the cave to lure lost souls into the darkness, or maybe the Waldhexe really does eat the hearts and brains and eyes of children who wander into the trees outside..." She can hear the grin in Wulf's voice without needing to open her eyes. "It’s all just made up to keep curious kids out. Does this place really seem dangerous to you?"

"I mean, it is kind of hazardous when you think about it." Astrid opens her eyes to peer up at the canyon walls high above their heads. "Just the cave on the way in is dangerous enough, dark, cramped, plenty to trip over or crack your head on," Wulf rubs his forehead surreptitiously, "and the currents could easily sweep your feet out from under you if it was raining heavily enough to make this place flood. Then there’s the deep water out here, possible rockfalls..."

"Urgh! Stop being so sensible! You sound just like your mother." Wulf tuts disgustedly, glancing at her momentarily before quickly looking away. Astrid huffs at him, but he ignores her, seemingly intent on studying the cave entrance across from them.

"I am nothing like my mother. You’re just reckless, anyone else would be able to see the potential dangers of this place easily, wouldn’t they Bren... Bren?" She frowns as he seems to visibly shake himself, his eyes snapping up to hers.

He clears his throat roughly before speaking. "I didn’t... uh... what were you saying?" On the other side of her, Wulf snorts a laugh, still looking away.

"What has gotten into you two?" She asks bemusedly.

Bren swallows hard before answering, his cheeks flushing almost red enough to match his hair. "Your, um... your shift..."

She narrows her eyes in confusion before looking down, letting out a shocked squeak when she finds that the thin white cotton has become decidedly translucent in its wet state. Hugging her arms around herself, she feels her own cheeks heat. "I should go and get dressed." Practically throwing herself back into the water to swim back to the other side, she hears the twin splashes of the boys following a few seconds later.

They overtake her on either side in a flurry of spray and churned up water, their laughter between breaths ending up more splutters and coughs by the time they reach the opposite edge of the pool, Wulf the clear winner.

"Why do you have to be so good at everything? And you’re stupidly good looking too, it’s just not fair." Bren laughs, panting as he scrambles out of the water.

Wulf grins, shrugging into his shirt. "You beat me where it counts, at school. You can’t have everything."

"You’re not exactly stupid." Bren tuts, sitting down to pull on his trousers.

"Danke..." Wulf chuckles dryly. "You should put that on my headstone when I die, 'Eadwulf: He was good at everything, very good looking, and not exactly stupid.' " The pair of them break into laughter, nearly falling over as they tug the last of their clothes on.

Astrid finally catches up at a much more sedate pace, leaning her chin on her hands on the poolside, the rest of her well hidden under the water. "Can you two wrap up the male bonding session and turn around so I can get out please." Her voice comes out tighter than she meant it to through chattering teeth, even just a quick rest in the sun making the water feel freezing again.

"You sound like your mother again." Wulf smirks at her.

She glares at him, and at Bren when he only just manages to bite back a chuckle. "Since you seem obsessed with my mother, maybe you should come over for dinner at mine to meet her properly, like Bren did. Maybe I’ll suggest it to her tonight..."

His face pales considerably. "Fine, fine, point taken. I’ll be in the cave." Stooping under the low entrance, he escapes into the dark almost at a run. She raises an eyebrow as Bren remains seated on the rock. He snorts and rolls his eyes, giving her one last longing look before following Wulf into the cave.

"And don't you dare peek!" She calls after him, "I’ll know if you do, you’ll be as red as a ripe tomato Bren Ermendrud, you’re hopeless for blushing..." Climbing up out of the water with little care for grace, she rubs her chilly arms, grateful that the sun is directly overhead. Taking off her soaked shift so the rest of her clothes stay dry, she hears faint, echoed splashes and laughter from the cave. "Boys..." She chuckles quietly to herself.

After doing up the last few buttons of her blouse, she gathers her shoes and stockings in one hand, holds up the long hem of her skirt with the other, and heads into the gloom. She finds the two of them illuminated by Bren's Dancing Lights, sitting on a pile of rock brought down in a cave in long ago, or so she hopes, each with their hands held clasped together in front of them, playing a game of Schlagen. As she approaches, Wulf fakes a left before darting back to slap the knuckles of Bren's right hand, setting off a new round of expletives and laughter.

"Astrid, you’ll play the winner, ja?" Wulf grins without taking his eyes off of Bren's hands, waiting to evade as he takes his turn.

Whispering the words under her breath, she quietly casts prestidigitation, a gentle puff of air in Wulf's ear enough to distract him as Bren lands two blows in quick succession. She sniggers as the larger boy glares indignantly at her. "Oh look, Bren wins. Bren shall we play?"

"I yield." He smirks at her.

"Looks like I win." Astrid smiles victoriously.

Wulf shakes his head and sighs amusedly. "Devious."

"Intelligent is what I think you mean." Beaming, she starts off in the direction of the cave's exit, a string of Dancing Light's popping up to light her way as the boys follow close behind.

"Intelligent and wet..." Wulf laughs just before there’s an almighty splash, and a shower of cold water rains down on her and Bren. They turn back to face him with twin shocked gasps and barely time to flinch before Wulf kicks up a second volley of water at them.

"You understand the principle of two against one don’t y..." Bren cuts off prematurely with a splutter as another splash hits him square in the face. Astrid giggles, wasting no time kicking up her own spray of water to attempt to drench their friend in return.

Deep in the midst of their water fight, with spray flying in all directions and a cacophony of splashing and laughter echoing off the rough stone cavern around them, Astrid barely notices when Bren suddenly goes still beside her.

"Stop, shush!" He urges, laying a hand on her shoulder. Still chuckling, she stares at him in confusion. Wulf kicks one last spray at them before noticing they’ve stopped, still laughing breathlessly in the gloom.

"What’s wrong?" Astrid asks as he frowns, his eyes seeming unfocused as though he’s listening intently for something.

"I thought I heard... I don’t know."

"You've been listening to too many old ghost stories about this place my friend." Wulf grins, wading over to them. "There’s nothing here but..."

A scuttling noise somewhere off to the left of them cuts their remaining mirth abruptly. For a few seconds they stand stock still staring at one another in shock, each not quite believing their own ears. The sound of rocks shifting in the same direction finally jolts them into motion.

"Gehen!" Wulf shouts as they set of running. With the boys more severely hindered by having to crouch under the low cave roof, Astrid moves ahead, chancing a look back over her shoulder and wishing she hadn’t. On the very edge of the Dancing Light's range, she can just make out the long, sinuous legs of an enormous spider easily the size of a small cow gaining ground on them.

"Schnell, it’s catching up!" She pants, just managing to dodge a small pile of rocks that almost trips her. The light of the cave entrance grows brighter ahead, relief battling with fear that they still might not make it. She hears a curse and a splash behind her, turning in time to see Bren land heavily on his knees in the shallow water, the spider coming into full view as it darts forward, seeing its chance.

Time suddenly seems to move at a crawl. Before Bren even has a chance to begin scrambling to his feet, Astrid casts Catapult, hurling a loose rock the size of her fist toward the spider. It shies away from the projectile, dodging the blow by mere inches, the rock clattering loudly into the roof a few feet beyond and sending a heavy shower of stones collapsing into the water below.

Only seconds after her own spell is loosed, there's a roaring whoosh made loud by the compact space as three spiraling Magic Missiles race from Wulf's outstretched hands towards the spider, hitting it square in the mandibles. The creature pauses its pursuit, letting out a pained screech. Wulf lurches for Bren, already halfway to his feet by now, and grabbing hold of his arm hoists him the rest of the way up, the three of them setting off running again not waiting to see if the spider follows.

Bursting out into the blinding sunlight, Astrid keeps on sprinting for a good thirty feet beyond the cave when she hears shouting behind her, skidding to a halt in a shower of water and pebbles.

She turns in time to see Bren grab Wulf's wrists, the faint glow of spell energy already accumulating in the larger boy's outstretched palms. "Wulf! You’ll bring the whole cave down!"

"Ja, that’s the idea!" The spell energy fades even as he fixes Bren with a slightly panicked stare. "Did you see the size of that thing? You know me Bren, I’ll face down angry fathers and teachers and anything else you put in my way, but giant spiders? Nein! That thing needs to die! It’s an abomination!"

"I believe it’s classed as a beast actually..."

"Seriously Bren!?" Wulf practically screeches, his usually deep voice almost breaking in outrage, pulling his arms free. "Stop being a nerd and help me kill it!"

"If you bring the cave down, what happens to the river?" Bren sighs impatiently.

"What?" Wulf pauses in casting another spell to stare at him indignantly. "I don’t care about the river, I care about the spider!"

"The river supplies the town with water and powers the mill... If you bring enough of the cave down, at the very least you'll reduce the flow. Auf Wiedersehen spider, auf wiedersehen Academy places, auf wiedersehen us ever seeing the light of day again after the Starosta throws us into jail!" Bren folds his arms across his chest and taps his foot, doing a fair impression of Matron.

Astrid splashes closer, keeping a wary eye on the cave mouth. "He’s right Wulf. It’s not following us, let’s just go." With a defeated sigh, Wulf let’s his hands fall and turns, beginning to trudge up the river with them away from the cave. "You lost your shoes." She notes, nodding towards his empty hands.

"Ja." He huffs. "I dropped them when I grabbed hold of Bren. Lucky I have a spare pair. Don’t much fancy going back in to find them." His grin is wry, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he looks back at the cave nervously. She pats his back soothingly, but she’s unable to stop her own anxious glance back at the cave mouth. "Thanks for stopping me Bren, I didn’t think of the river."

"Just doing my job as a nerd." He smirks. "Someone's got to try to keep you out of jail. And likewise, thanks for stopping me from being eaten. Both of you."

This time Wulf's grin is genuine, and more than a little bit proud. "All in all though, we had a great time didn’t we?" Astrid rolls her eyes and chuckles as he puts an arm each around her and Bren, giving them a firm squeeze.

"It was certainly interesting..." She wheezes against the bone crushing hug.

Notes:

(A definite influence for this chapter in particular, but really for any time the Blumentrio are getting up to fun or mischief, is the song Sixteen by Ellie Goulding. It makes me think of them every time I hear it.)

Chapter 17: Wulf Logic

Notes:

This was meant to be one chapter, but oops, I wrote way too much and before I knew it I needed to split it. As a result though, the next chapter should be up in only a day or so once I’ve had a chance to proof read and make inevitable edits. So if anyone is still reading this thing and therefore waiting for an update, you’ll get two in quick succession!

Warnings: A very tiny bit of smut and, as usual, some terrible German as follows;
Sich beruhigen - Calm down
Kinder - Children
Hochsommer - Highsummer (the celebration in the Exandrian Calendar)

The next three weeks go even better than Astrid had imagined they would. Almost every day Wulf, or Bren disguised as Wulf, picks her up from home and the deception continues to run smoothly, much to her and Bren's surprise.

"You two are so pessimistic." Wulf sighs one day, sprawled out under an oak tree at the edge of the woodland close to the Ermendrud's farm. "I told you it would work, you should have more faith in me."

"Pfft!" Astrid laughs. "This coming from the guy who thought it was a good idea to go into a spider-infested cave."

"Giant spiders no less." Bren adds dryly, propped up beside her against the thick trunk with one arm slung around her shoulders and an open book on Abjuration magic in the other hand.

"How was I supposed to know about the giant spider?" Wulf stutters defensively. "Anyway, no one died so I call that a success. Wulf logic." He says proudly with a lopsided grin. Astrid and Bren can’t help but be amused.

That is, until a few days later when 'Wulf logic' almost gets them into trouble a second time.

The weather is overcast, dark clouds peppering the sky and a strong but still pleasantly warm wind gusting across the fields over the top of the valley's rolling sides.

"We should head back to the farm, it looks like it’s going to rain." Bren points at a particularly dark mass of clouds to the south, a translucent wall of misty drizzle trailing down to the town below, and moving their way.

"And?" Wulf snorts. "It’s only rain. Oh. You’ve a book in your pocket don’t you?" He says with a sigh as Bren subconsciously places a hand over a slight bulge in the lower portion of his cloak. "Bren, you have got to stop reading all the time, you’re making the rest of us look bad."

"I just thought you were happy to see me." Astrid smirks up at Bren suggestively, earning a sly grin in return. She shoots a glare at Wulf as he noisily pretends to gag.

"You two are gross."

Their route back takes them directly past one of the guard towers in the fields on the town boundary, tall wooden structures buttressed by thick timbers at the base and rising a good thirty feet up with rough cladding protecting the interior from the weather. Astrid counts two crownsguard standing atop the covered platform, keeping a close watch on the surrounding fields.

"They must be able to see for miles." She wonders, pausing to look up at the tower.

"The entire width of the valley on a clear day probably. They have looking glasses too." Bren says, following her gaze upwards.

"We don’t even need towers in Blumenthal, let alone towers so tall you can see that far. Where do they think they are, the border with the Dynasty?" Wulf scoffs. "You ask me, they’re compensating."

"Compensating?" Astrid asks, frowning.

"Yes you know. Compensating..." Wulf nods down towards his crotch.

Astrid barks a laugh. "You think the crownsguard use watchtowers because they all have small penises? Why is everything about dicks with you..?"

"Me? You just compared Bren's erection to a book."

She rolls her eyes. "Not the point…"

"Technically, the King and the Cerberus Assembly had them built, so if anyone has small dicks it’s them." Bren adds with a grin.

"That is definitely treason Bren." Wulf laughs. "I’m so proud."

"Oi!" Their laughter suddenly curtails, the three look up at the tower top, startled. "You children have no business being out here! Leave at once!" A rough voice shouts down, only just audible over the wind.

"No business here?" Wulf grumbles sourly under his breath, spitting onto the freshly ploughed soil. "It’s our bloody town. Most of the guards don’t even come from here."

"I guess they’re sensitive about people looking at their compensating." Bren snorts, chuckling. The three of them collapse into laughter, slowly heading off away from the tower.

"Well, they want business, I’ll show them my business..." Wulf smirks when they’re a hundred yards or so from the tower, beginning to unfasten his trousers.

"What are you doing?" Bren asks warily.

"My friends, it may be daylight still but there is going to be a full moon..." he grins. Astrid hastily covers her eyes with a yelp when he begins to pull both trousers and underwear down.

"Wulf! Stop, what are you trying to do, get us arrested?" Bren laughs, but Astrid can hear a rising note of worry in his voice. "What if they shoot at us?"

She hears Wulf pause as he tuts loudly. "They won’t shoot at us. We’re just children, remember. And besides, their stupidly tall tower will take them a stupidly long time to climb down from. By the time they get to ground level we'll be too far away for them to catch us."

Carefully uncovering her eyes but shielding him from her view as much as possible with a hand, Astrid looks back at the tower as Wulf continues in pulling down his trousers, laughing along with Bren as he bends over facing away from it. The guards quickly move to the side closest to them, pointing angrily. One hastily runs to a corner, and within moments they hear a bell clanging.

"Ok Wulf, time to go." Bren says still chuckling, clapping a hand on their friend’s back.

"Sich beruhigen," Wulf beams proudly, "like I said, it will take them ages to..."

"Ohhh, scheiße..." Bren interrupts nervously, just as Astrid notices the door at the base of the tower fly open and a pair of crownsguard rush out, the two still on the top looking decidedly amused now. "Run!" He shouts, though none of them need the hint.

"Why do you always have to take things too far!" Astrid yells at Wulf as they run over the freshly tilled earth, leaping the long ruts and furrows as carefully as they can at speed.

"How was I supposed to know there were guards in the bottom too!" He shouts back defensively, hindered by trying to pull up and refasten his trousers as he runs.

"There were only two on the top." Bren pants, shaking his head grimly. "We should have worked it out. They’re there to fight groups of bandits, they’re never going to leave just two guards to do that alone."

"See!" Wulf shouts victoriously. "You didn’t realise either!"

"We weren’t flashing our ass holes at them!" Astrid screeches, the edge of the woods looming not far ahead. Crashing through the undergrowth, lungs burning from the long sprint, she feels Bren take her hand and lets him lead her to the base of a fallen tree, crouching with him against the soil filled rootball. A few metres away she sees Wulf huddled behind a thick shrub, his chest heaving as much as hers and Bren's.

Heartbeat thudding loud in her ears, Astrid tries to steady her breathing and keep as quiet as possible as she hears the guards drawing closer. That they too sound out of breath is small comfort when they enter the edge of the woods, making no effort to conceal themselves.

"Kinder..." a deep, grating voice calls from barely ten feet away and edging closer. "Come out kinder. We just want to give you a gentle lesson on respecting the crownsguard and then we’ll let you on your way." The obvious sneer in his voice sets her teeth on edge.

To her horror, he comes into view through the undergrowth, about to pass right by Wulf when another voice calls out tiredly from further back towards the field. "I can’t be bothered with this Garrick. They’re just kids, they know these woods better than us anyway, they’ll be miles away by now. Let’s just go back and tell the others we gave them a good hiding."

"Fine." He grunts, stopping beside Wulf's hiding spot. "But if I see them out here again, they’ll feel the rough end of my boot!" The guard yells pointedly towards the trees, obviously hoping they’re still within earshot. The three of them sit still and silent as the guards traipse away, in no hurry to move even when the woods grow silent again.

After a while, Bren moves beside her, slowly chancing a glance over the top of the fallen tree to make sure they’ve really left. "Coast is clear." He says breathlessly. Astrid and Wulf breathe twin sighs of relief.

Still nervous, they make their way through the woods quietly, the first peel of thunder from the approaching storm making all three of them jump. By the time they're within sight of the farm it's directly overhead, the thunder accompanied now by fierce flashes of lightening and torrential rain. They sprint to the barn, dripping water onto the beaten earth floor as Bren slides the door shut behind them.

"One of these days Wulf, you’re going to get us into real trouble..." Astrid huffs, clambering onto a bale of straw and wringing out her sopping wet hair.

"I know." He sighs mournfully, falling backwards into the vast haystack taking up much of the space. "I’m sorry. I just see an opportunity and I can’t seem to stop myself."

"It was funny." Bren shrugs, flashing them both a grin. It turns into a grimace as he fishes the book from his coat pocket, the pages looking decidedly damp.

"I suppose life would be a lot more boring without 'Wulf logic'." Astrid can’t help smiling, and after struggling to sit up in the hay, Wulf looks more cheerful.

"I’m glad you think so because tomorrow, I was thinking we could try pranking the Starosta herself, what do you think?" He grins, obviously joking, but Bren and Astrid groan regardless.

The rest of their last few weeks of the holiday are remarkably relaxed in comparison, the weather cycling over a matter of hours through baking hot heatwaves and cooler summer downpours without much warning, just a typical Zemnian summer.

It’s during one of those downpours, sequestered in the barn at the Ermendrud’s farm, that Astrid comes to a realisation. Wulf having left she and Bren to spend some time alone, they waste no time taking full advantage. Nestled in a recess in the hay stack, blouse unbuttoned, Bren’s lips making marks on her neck that she’ll struggle to hide from her sharp-eyed mother, she closes her eyes in bliss and lets her mind wander. And soon wishes she hadn’t. 

“We won’t be able to spend Hochsommer together.” She says sadly, opening her eyes and sitting up a little, displacing Bren who had been more thoroughly absorbed in his ministrations than she’d realised. He blinks at her in surprise. Astrid can’t help a little snicker at how dazed he looks, and a stab of pride that she’s the cause of it again.

“Hochsommer?” he asks, as though he’s never heard of it before.

She tuts, smiling. “Yes, Hochsommer. You know, one of the biggest holidays here? It happens every year on the seventh of Sydenstar? It also happens to be the night before we go back to the Academy, and we won’t be able to risk being seen together.” Her smile drops at that last sentence, disappointment settling in the pit of her stomach.

He sighs and shifts off of her, moving to sit beside her and place an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sure we can come up with something. We’re here aren’t we?” He nods at their surroundings, smiling at her reassuringly. “Don’t be sad, I don’t like it when you’re sad. We’ll see each other on Hochsommer, I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.” She says sullenly. “You’re only saying it so you can get back to what we were doing before.”

He raises his eyebrows, looking affronted. “Well yes, I was quite enjoying it and I thought you were too.” He leans in to begin his assault on her neck once again, and she can’t help tilting her head to give him better access, sighing contentedly despite her mood. “And besides,” he says, pulling away after just a few seconds to look at her again, smirking at her frown from the sudden loss of contact, “I absolutely can promise it.”

“How?” She asks suspiciously, stroking her fingertips lightly up his trouser covered leg, stopping just short of the very prominent bulge at his crotch before stroking back down again and repeating the motion. She grins slyly at his little groan and the way his hips twitch on impulse. If he wanted to tease her, well two could play at that game.

“I have a secret weapon.” He licks his lips, his voice decidedly more gravelly than before. “Wulf.”

Abruptly she pulls her hand away to cover her face. “No more schemes from him, please no more!"

“You have to admit, he is very good at what he does.”

“What can he possibly come up with that’s going to allow us to spend the evening together in the centre of town, surrounded by the entire population of Blumenthal, including our families? It just can’t be done Bren.” She shakes her head, flopping back down into the hay with an irritated grunt.

“Disguise Self has been working fine so far...”

“No Bren.” She cuts him off, sighing and taking his hand. “I want to dance with you, and kiss you, not you disguised as Wulf. And besides, I want him to be there too. It would be perfect if the three of us could spend the last night of the summer break together without having to constantly worry we’ll be found out.”

Bren looks down at her for a moment before leaning in to kiss her, all his previous lust-fueled impatience gone, replaced by a slow intensity that leaves her breathless.

“You know as well as I do,” he says as he pulls back a few inches, his voice impressively steady considering the effect the kiss had on her, “that the impossibility of the situation will only spur him on. Like you said, the three of us spending it together would be perfect. So we’ll just have to come up with something particularly brilliant. We are three of the brightest minds in the Empire.” She rolls her eyes in amusement at his smug grin that suggests he really means it too. “If we can’t work out this conundrum, no one can.”

“Bren Ermendrud, if your ego were any bigger it wouldn’t fit in this barn.” she grins up at him, stroking his short fringe away from his forehead.

“Tell me I'm wrong.” He mumbles against her neck as his teeth gently nip the skin below her earlobe.

“You’re wrong.” She smiles indulgently, not really meaning it. They are pretty smart after all.

“Am I?” He asks, his hand darting under the hem of her skirt to glide up her leg with purpose.

“Yes.” She answers shakily, biting her lip in anticipation.

“Are you sure?” He asks again as his fingertips breech her underwear.

“Yes...” She breathes, her own hands moving to grip his shoulders.

“Certain?”

“Yes!” She gasps sharply, though this time it has much more to do with what his fingers are doing, and very little to do with answering his question.

Some quite considerable time later, once they’re both fully dressed and breathing steadily again, Bren goes to fetch Wulf from the house, and the three of them sit down together in the barn to discuss their problem. Astrid has to admit, it really doesn’t take long for Wulf to come up with a remarkably simple yet genius solution.

Now all she has to do is convince herself that it'll actually work.

Chapter 18: Home

Notes:

This is a long one, but as ever, my attempt at editing and proofing only served to add words rather than take them away, so have a 5.5k lump of text. Hopefully it’s a good 5.5k! It’s been buzzing around my head for months so it’s good to finally have it out.

Terrible German this chapter includes:
Hochsommer - Highsummer
Weißer Drache - White Dragon
Danke - Thanks
Prost - Cheers

"Isn’t it odd, Eadwulf not wanting to meet you here? Did you two have an argument?" Astrid’s mother asks with an accusing frown as they make their way down the lane towards the town in the rapidly dimming twilight, her father lagging behind with his nose in a book.

Astrid rolls her eyes. "We haven’t had an argument Mother. He told Bren about us yesterday and wanted to try and smooth things over with him before meeting me tonight." She lies smoothly. She hopes it's smooth anyway, the butterflies in her stomach seem the size of cats and all she can think of are all the ways their plan could go wrong.

"How did he take it, the Ermendrud boy?" Her mother asks, and even in the half light, Astrid can see the hint of a sadistic smile on her lips. She manages not to sneer at the older woman, but only just.

"As you’d expect, not well. But he had to find out some time." She shrugs. Her mother's smile broadens with the news, accompanied with a satisfied nod which Astrid chooses to take as a sign that her deception has worked so far.

"I quite liked him." Her father says distractedly, without looking up from his book. She and her mother tut in unison.

It isn’t long before Astrid begins to hear music drifting up the hill from the celebrations below, and she can’t help but feel a little lighter, excitement warring with her nerves. When they reach the market square, stars are beginning to peek through in the cloudless night, but the town itself seems lit almost as bright as day. Lamps brighten every window, red and gold lanterns in the colours of the Empire crisscross high above on long strings, and candles stand clumped together packed onto every available inch of free surface. After all, as a celebration of the Dawnfather, the god of the sun, it would be a poor showing if Hochsommer weren’t brightly illuminated.

Lining three edges of the square, market stalls usually full of goods and wares now serve a variety of traditional Zemnian stews, pastries, and other delicacies, the air is thick with cooking smells, and smoke rises from at least three fire pits that she can see where great slabs of meat turn on spits, carved and served in fist sized bread rolls. Five long tables piled high with casks and barrels stand in front of the Weißer Drache Inn, its bar staff run ragged trying to serve the clamouring mass of patrons calling for ale.

The centre of the square is taken up by two roughly constructed wooden platforms, standing just off to either side of the statue of King Manfreid Dwendal. A band of five musicians crowd the smaller of the two platforms, playing traditional Zemnian songs on their various instruments. On the  larger, the Starosta stands with a group of higher ranking Righteous Brand soldiers, not that Astrid has ever had much interest in telling the difference in ranks. She barely glances at them now - the ever present recruitment effort has never held any great fascination for her.

Hochsommer may be the Dawnfather's celebration in truth, but the Empire is content to highjack it in their own way, using it to swell the ranks of the Righteous Brand with those eager to protect their king and homeland. Soldiers from the barracks in Rexxentrum are out in force mingling through the crowd, speaking to youngsters who might show an interest in signing up, handing out toy soldiers and small wooden toy swords to children, and even helping to man some of the refreshment stalls. Anything to bolster their reputation and that of the Crown.

Astrid knows exactly where Wulf is waiting for her, but she makes a show of pretending to look out for him. Just as she’d hoped, her mother spots him in the crowd waiting beside the statue and points him out to her, unwittingly aiding the deception. As she moves towards him through the milling masses, her mother follows, seemingly just happening to drift in the same direction as if by coincidence, though Astrid knows better. Her father naturally comes along too, as though chained by an invisible leash to his wife.

Unsurprisingly, when she reaches Wulf he’s being accosted by a small hoard of his usual groupies. She knows him well enough to tell that despite his face showing a distinct lack of interest in them, not responding to their flirting is killing him. Upon her arrival he promptly beams at her, grabs her round the waist and goes to kiss her. Just as they’d planned beforehand, she turns her head just in time so that he kisses her cheek instead. He smiles down at her almost bashfully and puts an arm around her shoulder. "Good evening beautiful. And good evening to you Frau Becke. Herr Becke." Wulf nods politely to her parents.

"Eadwulf." Her mother nods back, beady eyes inspecting him with both interest and suspicion.

The fan club still milling about now awkwardly grimace and begin to dissipate, muttering sourly to each other about how Astrid somehow managed to snag both Bren and Wulf, and what they could possibly see in her. Her cheeks colour in embarrassment, but before she can do anything but glare at their retreating backs, Bren appears through a brief opening in the crowd.

His face is a picture of pure fury as his eyes fall on the two of them, exactly according to plan. It’s so convincing Astrid could almost believe he's really jealous. He takes a step towards them before seeming to reconsider, turning on his heel and stalking off through the crowd. Una, who had been standing at his side, rolls her eyes, plainly aware of what they’re up to. She takes a deep, long-suffering drink from her tankard, shaking her head disapprovingly.

"Poor Bren." Astrid's mother says mockingly, plainly raising her voice so that Una can hear her, "Ah well, you certainly made the right choice there Astrid. Good riddance is what I say." Her smug grin makes Astrid want to grind her teeth. Una lowers her tankard slowly, the motherly woman's eyes alight with uncharacteristic burning rage. She takes barely half a step towards Astrid's mother before Leofric is suddenly there in front of her, smoothly grabbing her by the arm and hustling her away through the crowd.

"Let’s dance Astrid!" Wulf says hurriedly, taking her arm and all but dragging her off through the crush of people. She unclenches the fists she hadn’t even realised she’d balled up and works hard at not glaring back at her mother, remembering that punching the woman is certainly not part of the plan.

Making an effort to enjoy herself and try to forget her stupid mother and her nerves over the plan for a while, Astrid loses herself in the atmosphere of the celebrations, she and Wulf joining the end of a row of couples and dancing a few rounds together. What he lacks in skill he certainly makes up for in enthusiasm, and she soon finds herself grinning and laughing along with everyone else.

When the third dance finishes, she takes Wulf's hand and begins to head slowly towards the west side of the square, taking care not to draw attention to them by appearing to hurry. Keeping a close eye out for her mother, who she last saw surrounded by the women from her knitting group and with any luck distracted by local gossip by now, she and Wulf wait for a lull in the crowd before slipping into a dim passageway between two shops. To anyone watching they’d just look like a young couple sneaking off for some privacy, and with Wulf's reputation, nothing out of the ordinary.

"I’ll wait here." He says, pausing just inside the alley's shadows. "When you two are finished dancing, just whistle and I’ll come and find you."

"Thank you." She smiles gratefully, giving his arm a quick squeeze before heading deeper into the passageway. Rounding a corner, having to feel her way in the dark along the brick walls to either side, the alley suddenly lets out onto a small, dark courtyard. As soon as Bren sees her he stands from his precarious seat atop an upturned barrel with a beaming smile, four globules of Dancing Lights illuminating him. He looks beautiful in the amber glow.

"Everything going to plan so far?" He asks as he reaches her.

She nods, clearing her throat and trying to concentrate. "Perfectly. Though, your mother looked set to thump mine for a second, till your father intervened." She grins, conveniently forgetting that she was fairly close to violence herself.

"My mother?" He asks, mouth falling open in shock.

Astrid laughs, nodding again. "Remind me never to get on the wrong side of her."

"You couldn’t," he says, taking her into his arms, "you’re perfect." He leans down to kiss her and she sighs blissfully, not caring one bit if she sounds pathetic. They lose themselves in each other for a while, Astrid isn’t sure how long, the slow slide of lips and tongues, bodies pressed together in  the dim light, music filtering in from the raucous celebrations just a short distance away.

He pulls back a few inches to rub their noses together as they hear a loud cheer in the main square and the band begins to play a waltz. "Shall we Schatz?" His voice is gratifyingly breathless as he moves awkwardly into more or less the correct hold, leading her into the rising falling steps of the dance. She takes the lead from him almost immediately of course, but he lets it slide with just an amused roll of his eyes.

The lights follow them as they dance, clustering and bobbing in a rhythm of their own as Bren and Astrid swirl around the tight space as best they can without knocking into the crates and barrels stored haphazardly around the edges.

"You’ve been practicing." She smiles at him, his cheeks colouring.

"Wulf thought it was hilarious when he caught me going through the steps on my own in the barn the other day. Fair play to him though, once he stopped laughing he helped me practice. We had quite a nice dance in the end."

She smiles at the image of the two friends dancing together in the barn. "I appreciate the effort. From both of you."

"You’re still much better than me and Wulf Schatz." He leans in to nuzzle against her neck, promptly faltering in the steps and almost tripping. "See." He chuckles, looking down to correct his feet.

The music finishes with another cheer, the musicians quickly switching to a popular Zemnian country dance. She laughs as Bren immediately changes his hold and swings her into the much more familiar rhythm, looking relieved. The turns and spins are dizzying, and she can hear the whoops and shrieks of the couples dancing in the square, even over her and Bren’s own laughter. Eventually he trips and lands sprawling on a crate with her falling into his lap, both out of breath. Her gaze falls on his lips, and she leans up to kiss him.

"I don’t know where Astrid is, I haven’t seen her in a while..." Wulf's voice suddenly sounds loud and clear from the alleyway. Bren and Astrid look at each other warily.

"I saw you two go off together, now you’re skulking in the shadows." They hear Astrid's mother reply, only just audible over the sounds of celebrations beyond. "What are you up to, the pair of you?"

Astrid leaps up off of Bren, her heart racing. "Like I said, I haven’t seen her, I was just looking for her. Maybe she went to get some air..." Wulf offers, sounding flustered.

"Is she in there?" Her mother demands obviously unsatisfied with his answer. "Come to think of it, I haven’t seen the Ermendrud boy since he stormed off either…"

Astrid’s stomach drops as she stares at the passageway. She jumps as Bren takes her hand, silently gesturing towards a second alley on the opposite side of the courtyard and pulling her towards it.

"No!" Wulf answers, a little too emphatically. Bren picks up the pace and drops his Dancing Lights, the pair breaking into a run. "She’s not... I just checked, it's empty. Frau Becke..."

Bren and Astrid barely reach the passageway when two sets of footsteps sound loudly behind them. They press against the shadowed walls of the tiny space just in time to see Astrid's mother storm into the dimly moonlit courtyard, followed immediately by a very flustered looking Wulf. He sighs in relief, until she rounds on him when a quick scan of the courtyard reveals it to be empty.

"Where is she?" She demands crossly. "Why would she just leave?"

"She didn’t say." He answers, chin titled upwards in defiance.

"She didn’t say..." her mother repeats unconvinced, tapping her index finger against her lips. "Is she with Bren, Eadwulf?" She asks, her voice disturbingly calm. Astrid only just manages to hold back a gasp.

"We all saw Bren leave." Wulf shrugs dismissively.

"And now she’s gone too. A little convenient isn’t it?"

He shifts uncomfortably. "Bren wouldn’t want to see her at the moment, he’s too angry. She just needed some space."

"I thought you said she didn’t tell you why she left." Wulf gulps so hard Astrid hears it from across the courtyard. "Did you say something to her Eadwulf? Or do something to her...?"

"No!" He near shouts, his expression horrified. "I know I have a reputation, but I would never do anything like that!"

"Perhaps I should fetch the crownsguard to ask you a few questions." She continues, ignoring him. "A young girl disappearing for no good reason at night, you skulking about in the dark... and with that reputation, it doesn’t look good for you does it." Her tone is clearly aimed at manipulation, with not a hint of genuine concern for her daughter.

"I didn’t... she’s not..." he sucks in a ragged breath. "I told you, I don’t know..."

"Have it your way." Astrid's mother cuts in curtly, striding past him back towards the alleyway.

Astrid is about to go to his aid, to appear suddenly and try to innocently convince her mother she really was just taking a break away from the celebrations, but she doesn’t even get the chance to take one step before Wulf beats her to it. "She needed space because I asked her to marry me and she needed time to think!" He blurts out in a rush. Astrid hears herself squeak, Bren snorting amusedly beside her. Luckily, her mother doesn’t seem to have heard as she stops and turns around slowly to face Wulf again.

"You asked her to marry you?" She says without a hint of emotion.

"I... Ja." He sighs defeatedly, running a hand through his hair embarrassedly.

Her mother purses her lips, deep in thought. "Well," she says eventually, "I can see why you didn’t want to tell me. You've only been together for a few weeks."

"Ja." He agrees. Abruptly she realises Bren is shaking with the effort of not laughing, and she pokes him in the ribs hard enough to make him grunt.

"And I suppose this means you love my daughter Eadwulf, else you wouldn’t have asked her. Especially with your track record."

"I do." He answers, his voice so earnest Astrid almost believes it herself for a moment. "I care very deeply for her. I have done for a while now."

"I see..." The woman smiles sneeringly, steepling her fingers. "Perhaps she really isn’t as naive as I thought. Excellent." She turns on her heel and strolls out of the courtyard without another word, leaving Wulf looking stunned.

He sits down heavily on a crate with his head in his hands as Bren and Astrid creep out of their passageway hideout once the coast is clear.

"So Astrid, are you going to say yes?" Bren smirks. She rolls her eyes.

"Are you alright Wulf?" She asks, moving a barrel to sit down beside him.

"How are you related to that?" He asks incredulously, looking up at her. "She’s evil. Pure evil!"

Astrid shrugs. "No arguments here. I have to live with her." She smiles broadly at the thought that at least tomorrow they’ll all be heading back to the Academy together. "Thank you Wulf, for warning us and for dealing with her. Even if there is going to be considerable fallout to deal with." She frowns, just imagining the conversation she’s going to have to have with her mother when she gets home.

"Actually, I think this could work to our advantage." Bren says consideringly. Astrid and Wulf both turn to stare at him incredulously. "Hear me out. She looked pretty happy when she left. I don’t think it was the thought of you two actually marrying that she was pleased with. Think about it Astrid, she wants you to find some rich, titled lord at the Academy, not marry the backup plan without even trying to find better first."

"Danke..." Wulf says dryly.

"You’re welcome. But do you see my point?" He looks at them as though willing them to understand.

She thinks back to what her mother said before she left. 'Perhaps she really isn’t as naive as I thought...' "She thinks if I’ve managed to make someone like Wulf fall in love with me in such a short amount of time, I might actually have a chance of doing the same with a lord. She was... proud of me. Wow. There’s a first time for everything I suppose."

"Congratulations. You’ve managed to fake living up to her expectations of being a money-grabbing whore. Now please can we go and get drunk because I really need it after that." Wulf whines, rising from his crate. Astrid snorts a laugh and gestures for him to lead the way, down the second passageway and out onto the much quieter streets to the south of the town square, their original plan finally back on track.

Keeping to the shadows as much as possible and looking out warily, all three audibly sigh with relief once they pass the final line of houses on the town's southern slope, continuing to climb up the valley side through a vast, steep meadow of wildflowers and tall grass.

"This should be far enough." Bren pants eventually as they near the ridge at the top of the hill, and flops down into the grass on his back. Astrid and Wulf collapse on either side of him, both just as worn out from the steep hill. Recovering enough to sit up, Astrid has to admit, it was worth the effort to reach this spot.

This high up the valley she can just see the tail end of the sunset to the west, a hint of a yellowish glow fading to purple and rapidly darkening blue further towards the east. Both moons are easily visible, Catha's glow illuminating both the land around them and the slate rooftops of the town with a soft silvery light. The square is lit brightly below them, in stark contrast to the darkened streets of the rest of Blumenthal, the sounds of music and revelry reaching them even up here.

"Prost." Wulf says, holding his flask out towards her.

She takes it and swigs liberally, expecting ale. The sharp, burning flavour that hits her tongue makes her splutter, staring at the flask disgustedly. "What is that?" She coughs, wiping her chin with her sleeve. Bren takes the flask from her and sniffs, grimacing.

"Brandy." Wulf laughs, patting her on the back in an effort to help clear her airway.

"Where did you get brandy from?" Bren asks, taking a much smaller and more wary sip. He screws his nose up as he swallows, but takes a second longer sip regardless.

"Berda. She felt bad about what happened when her father caught us, so she stole it from her parent's liquor cabinet and gave it to me. Gave me plenty more than that too." He grins, waggling his eyebrows. It's Bren's turn to almost choke on the brandy this time, though with laughter rather than the strong taste. He hands it back to Wulf, who takes a generous gulp before passing it back to Astrid again.

It doesn’t take long for her to start to feel the pleasant, gentle warmth of the alcohol making her feel sluggish and lightheaded. She giggles as one of Bren's dancing lights whizzes past her nose. Clumsily casting Mage Hand, she tickles his ribs with the spectral digits, making him collapse back into the grass laughing.

"You two are adorable." Wulf chuckles, his speech ever so slightly slurred.

"I wish we’d been friends before we went to the Academy." She muses, dispelling Mage Hand and helping Bren to sit up again. "I can’t wait to go back. Is that bad?"

"Why would it be bad?" Bren asks, taking another sip from the flask.

"I feel like I should miss Blumenthal more. Like it should still feel at least a little like home. I suppose though, at the Academy it’s just us three against the world, and here it feels as though it’s just us three as well, so really, home is just wherever I am with you two." She frowns down at her lap, thinking back over what she said to make sure it made sense, her thoughts well and truly muddled.

"Awww." Bren and Wulf say in unison. The three of them break into a fit of laughter, shushing each other amusedly when they eventually remember they’re trying to be covert.

"I love you two." Wulf says suddenly when their chuckles finally die down. "I wouldn’t have got through the last year without you. I’d probably be on the streets in Rexxentrum, or... you know." He swallows thickly, a twist to his mouth as his gaze moves westward, in the direction of his father's forge. "Back with him. You’re right Astrid, my home's with you too."

"We’re family." Bren nods, grinning at them both. "Better than family, because we chose each other." 

The warm westerly breeze picks up briefly, stirring the grass around them with a soft rustle and sending dozens of little yellow lights blinking into the air around them. It takes Astrid a moment in her addled state to realise they’re fireflies. Silently, they watch them drift ethereally away down the slope towards the beautifully illuminated town, until Wulf lets out a loud belch followed by a yawn. Astrid rolls her eyes.

The festivities in the square below are still in full swing if the distant sounds of music and laughter are anything to go by. Astrid knows from experience that the celebration will continue well into dawn the next morning. The people of the Zemni Fields know how to party.

"We should head home." Bren says sensibly, if a little slurred. "We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Reluctantly they stagger to their feet, all three struggling for balance, grasping each other’s arms for support as they try to make their way down the steep slope without stumbling too badly. They sneak through the darkened streets when they reach the town, heading back up the opposite side of the valley towards the lane Astrid's house sits on.

At the corner of the crossroads a safe distance away, Wulf half falls through a gap in the hedgerow into a field, announcing loudly that he needs to pee, leaving Astrid and Bren to share a slightly drunken, sloppy kiss. Wulf's mocking whistle upon his return makes them draw apart reluctantly, and after a somewhat uncoordinated group hug that nearly sends all three of them into the ditch at the side of the road, Astrid says her goodbyes and makes the short journey the rest of the way up the hill to her house.

When she reaches the garden gate, she’s startled to find there’s a light in the sitting room window. Mumbling curses under her breath, she gives herself a shake and sucks in a few deep breaths of the cool night air, hoping it will sober her up enough to hold a conversation and remember all the lies they've told this evening. Holding a hand up in front of her mouth she huffs a breath and sniffs, wincing at the brandy stench. Maybe she won’t notice, she thinks to herself without much hope.

She finds both her parents in the sitting room, each in an armchair beside the unlit fireplace, her mother absorbed in a small embroidery hoop, her father reading a leather bound book.

"I didn’t think you’d be home yet." She says from the doorway, trying not to fall over as she removes her boots and stows them in the hall cupboard.

"It's no use playing innocent." Her mother says calmly, folding her hands over the small embroidery hoop now abandoned in her lap. "We know exactly what happened tonight."

Astrid freezes, staring at the woman like a rabbit caught in torchlight. "You... do?"

"I caught Eadwulf skulking around and got it out of him. A proposal Astrid!" Astrid only just manages to swallow a deep sigh of relief. Her shoulders sag regardless, but her mother seems to take it as a sign of defeat and continues on without pause. "Honestly, why didn’t you come and find me straight away with the news?"

"Why didn’t he ask me for your hand first, that’s what I want to know." Her father adds, puffing out his chest as if affronted. Astrid's mother tsks loudly at him, sending him back to his book grumbling under his breath.

"I... needed some space." Astrid explains, trying to recall the earlier conversation between Wulf and her mother, so as not to get caught out. 

"Yes, so he said. Whatever for?" The woman scoffs. "You’re not considering saying yes are you?"

"No!" Astrid says a little too forcefully, eyes going wide. She laughs nervously when her mother raises an eyebrow, hoping it’s not too late to downplay it. "But I’m hoping I can not exactly say no either." She frowns at her jumbled words, as does her mother.

"Do you mean that you’re going to put off giving him an answer?"

"Yes!" Astrid smiles gratefully. "Yes, that. Things have moved a little more swiftly than I’d planned but he seems pretty eager. I'll just have to keep coming up with reasons to delay for a while. With any luck I’ll have someone more worthy in my sights by the time he's fed up of waiting."

Her mother sits staring at her for a minute before breaking into a wide grin. Placing the embroidery hoop aside, she rises from her chair and crosses the room, wrapping her arms awkwardly around Astrid's shoulders to hug her. "I was starting to think you didn’t have it in you, but what a clever girl you are. You’ll have no trouble at all reeling someone in, no trouble at all I should think."

Astrid tries not to go stiff at the unexpected hug, swallowing uncomfortably. "Danke, Mutter." She croaks. Clearing her throat, she moves out of her mother's arms and heads towards the stairs, eager to be anywhere else.

"Have you been drinking?" Her mother's voice makes her jump as she reaches the bottom step.

Turning slowly back to face the woman, she figures lying is probably useless. "Yes," she stammers, thinking on her feet, "I was in such a shock after Wulf proposed, I'm afraid I took a tankard I found unattended in the square and drank it. Sorry." She hopes she looks abashed rather than shifty. Her mother nods as though she accepts the explanation, and Astrid wastes no time in continuing her escape upstairs. "Goodnight Mutter, Goodnight Vater!" She calls over her shoulder when she’s already halfway up the stairs, not relaxing till she’s in her room with the door firmly closed.

Bright and early the next morning, only just after sun up, Astrid finds herself half slumped on top of her travelling case in Blumenthal's main square with a splitting headache and eyes that feel dry and gritty. Her mother stands off to one side, periodically tutting at the state of the place.

True to form, the Hochsommer revelry seems to have gone on well into the early hours, benches, tables and chairs left in untidy clusters all over the place, tankards and candle stubs littering almost every inch of free surface, empty spits and casks left abandoned atop refreshment stalls. Best of all though is the half dozen or so revellers who failed to make it back home to their beds and are now slumped snoring wherever they fell the night before. Astrid smiles at that, not least because her mother is so disgusted by it.

A short distance away, Bren and Wulf stand beside their own untidy assortment of bags and cases. Astrid makes a point of not looking directly at either of them, but even from the corner of her eye she's aware of the sense of tension between them. She’s quite in awe of them being able to fake it so well despite the sore heads they must surely both be feeling as badly as she is.

The clatter of hooves on the road leading into the square is a relief, though she tries not to look too eager. As the coach driver loads their cases and bags up onto the roof, she says her goodbyes to her mother.

"Make sure you write to me often. I want to know every detail about your little project." Her mother says with a sly smirk. The project of course being Astrid's search for a rich husband, rather than her studies or general wellbeing. As if the woman would care about any of that… Astrid grumbles to herself, nodding anyway.

Climbing up into the cramped coach, she chances a look through the window and almost bursts out laughing. Una has Bren trapped in a tight hug while he tries and fails to pry himself free, Wulf looking thoroughly amused as he shakes hands with Leofric. His amusement is short-lived, replaced by surprise when Una finally releases Bren and grabs him into a bone crushing hug instead, as though saying goodbye to a second son.

She dabs at her eyes with her sleeve as they join Astrid in the carriage, Leofric moving to put an arm around her. "Just you two boys make sure to look after each other." At a sharp look from Bren she rolls her eyes with a sigh. "And stop this silly fighting." She adds dryly in a weak attempt to help their ruse. Astrid grimaces apologetically at her, mouthing "sorry", but Una shakes it off with a smile, despite the tears.

As soon as the carriage rumbles into motion, jolting and bouncing out of the square along the road towards Rexxentrum, the three of them finally relax. Leaning against Bren's shoulder, his head coming to rest lightly on top of her own, Wulf stretching out as much as he can on the short bench opposite, Astrid slips into a contented sleep, dreaming of Rexxentrum's high stone towers, of the shared joy of lessons in Academy classrooms, and of sitting on a moonlit hilltop with Bren and Wulf by her side, surrounded by tiny glowing yellow lights.

Chapter 19: Charm

Notes:

Can’t believe it’s been so long since I updated, sorry for the wait! This marks the beginning of the second half as it were, getting towards the more angsty part of the story, so I had some planning out to do which took time away from actually writing it. Hope you’re all well, thank you again for the kudos and lovely comments, they mean the world!

Fumbling with the door handle before half falling into her newly assigned dorm, Astrid throws down her heavy traveling case and bags with a harsh sigh of relief. Out of breath from the climb up through the accommodation wing, a glance around the room is confirmation that the three extra sets of stairs along the way are not the only change.

The stairs may be an inconvenience, but the four beds in the room instead of the eight in her previous dorm are at least a welcome difference. It’s still sharing, but it seems like luxury compared to last years crowded arrangement. Silently she hopes that this time perhaps at least one of her new roommates won’t despise her.

First thing's first, she thinks to herself, which bed to choose? Three of the beds are clearly still uninhabited with no possessions stowed in the vicinity, the fourth covered in a mass of unfolded clothes, books and bags that seem to have been abandoned mid-unpacking. She has a quick sit on the remaining three mattresses, testing the springs, considering the likely passage of the sun through the window throughout the day and the proximity to the small shared privy, before finally choosing the bed opposite the one already occupied, beside the small four-paned window and further from the privy than the other two beds.

Happy with her choice, she sets about unpacking her meagre belongings, folding, and storing her clothes, books and toiletries in the cubby space beside the bed and in her designated little closet across the room. She stifles a yawn with the back of her hand, rolling her shoulders which are still stiff from being jostled about on the journey in the carriage. Her nap had helped somewhat with her weariness from the night before, but her headache is still very much present.

Vowing never to drink brandy again, she can’t help but smile at the memory. A perfect night with her boys, and now back at the Academy, a place she’s come to love far more than home. New classes, more comfortable accommodation, months before she has to face her mother again. She sighs happily, trying to ignore the slight pounding in the back of her skull, not wanting anything to ruin her happiness at being back.

Behind her the door is suddenly flung open, and before she can even turn to see who it is, the familiar little noise of disgust the newcomer makes has her stomach lurching with dread, bringing her back down with a bump.

"Uh! Really Matron? You’re going to make us share a room with her again?" Merinda Vossy barely gets the words out in her irritatingly shrill voice before Matron's large hand connects with the back of her head with a satisfying thunk. Merinda yelps, glaring daggers at the older woman as Renna Jenstorn struggles in behind her carrying a ridiculously excessive amount of luggage, fixing Astrid with a glare of her own.

"You were given plenty of warning that if you girls couldn’t decide amongst yourselves which of you wanted to share with each other, you would be assigned rooms by me. So here we are." Matron's thunderhead frown shifts from the two scowling girls in the doorway to Astrid. "Close your mouth Astrid before you catch flies, and I’ll have no arguments from you either. The three of you will just have to learn to get along, you’re not children anymore."

Renna dumps her bags all over the floor, half collapsing onto the empty bed next to Astrid’s with a loud huff. Merinda flomps down onto the last free bed opposite Renna's with her arms folded tight across her chest, pouting petulantly, but neither says another word in protest. Matron nods once with a loud harrumph and turns on her heel to leave, muttering something about stray cats in a wardrobe that Astrid doesn’t quite catch the end of.

For an awkward moment after the door slams shut behind her the three of them are silent, watching each other contemptuously. When Astrid rolls her eyes and turns away to continue her unpacking, it seems to stir the others into action. Renna swings her legs up onto her bed to lounge on her side, looking every inch the queen, while Merinda rises gracefully from the other bed, coming to sit on the end of Astrid's to stare at her silently, expression blank but for a touch of a smirk at the corner of her mouth.

"What?" Astrid sighs eventually, when simply ignoring Merinda doesn’t bore her into going away.

"You’re on my bed." The girl states with a breathy little laugh, as though it should be obvious. Renna doesn’t even try to hide the grin blossoming on her face.

Astrid blinks at Merinda in stunned silence. When she doesn’t move, simply looking expectantly at her, Astrid realises she’s serious. "No."

"No?" Merinda huffs, her amusement plain, as though Astrid is joking.

"No." Astrid repeats firmly, glaring at the other girl. "I got here first, you’ve no right to tell me to move." Merinda exchanges looks with Renna before the pair burst out laughing.

"Oh Astrid. Don’t be silly." Renna giggles, biting her lip. Astrid knows exactly what’s coming next, biting back a sigh at the depressingly predictable routine the pair are playing out, thinking they’re terribly original and hilarious.

"Of course you’re going to move, you idiot." Merinda chuckles, smiling all too sweetly. "Otherwise, we'll make you." The threat in her voice is clear, and the confidence too. Feeling defiant despite the danger, she stares blankly at Merinda, whose lips tighten with impatience after a few seconds of silence. By the time Astrid catches Renna's fingers moving subtly from the corner of her eye, it’s too late to even think of defending herself...

 

******************

 

Astrid blinks, staring down at her hands apparently halfway through folding a blouse. Her head feels foggy, for a second, as though she’s woken suddenly from a deep sleep. With a start, she throws the blouse down onto the coverlet beside her in horror, finding herself seated on the bed Merinda and Renna had threatened to make her move to, the two of them stood across the room from her cackling with laughter. And then, in a rush of memories, it all comes back.

"Now Astrid," Merinda had cooed, "you know you’re one of our dearest friends don’t you?" Astrid had nodded at her with an adoring smile. Merinda pursed her lips, trying not to laugh, shooting a half hearted frown at Renna who sniggered from the bed across the room. "And friends help each other don’t they?"

"Of course." Astrid answered, her smile widening.

"Perfect. So you know, it would really help me if I could have this bed instead of that other one." The girl continued sweetly. Astrid's smile faltered. Wasn’t this her bed? Why should she give it up, she’d got there first after all? Were they really her frien..? "It would make me very, very happy Astrid. And as my friend, you want me to be happy, don’t you?" Merinda managed to look hurt somehow, despite the clear amusement on her face.

"Oh, yes, of course I do Merinda, I’m sorry. I’ll move my things right away." Astrid practically jumped up from the bed and hastily began to gather her things.

"Thank you Astrid, that’s really nice of you." Merinda giggled.

"You’re the best friend ever Astrid." Renna laughed from the other bed. Astrid smiled at her as she moved a neatly folded pile of shifts from one set of drawers to the other across the room.

Coming back to herself, the freshly realised memories catching up to the present, Astrid looks over at them angrily. "You used Charm Person on me..." 

"Now maybe next time we tell you to do something, you’ll do it without arguing." Renna smirks from the bed opposite. "Otherwise, we might think up all sorts of clever ways to punish you."

"You can’t hurt me with it." Astrid says defiantly, her voice slightly breathless.

"Not physically, but who knows what we could get you to do." Merinda sneers. "We could make you up like a clown and take you out for a walk so everyone can see. Orrrr... make you deliver a love note to a teacher..." The pair break down in giggles as Astrid lets out a shuddering breath.

"There are always other spells too. And we're only going to get better at them. Using them on you will be great practice." Renna grins sadistically. "I think we’d like the room to ourselves now Astrid. Don’t come back till this evening, there’s a good girl." She says dismissively.

Feeling stunned, it takes Astrid a moment to start to move, shuffling off the bed in a daze. Taking a first wobbly step towards the door, she squeaks at a sudden sharp sting as though someone flicked her ear. Astrid recognises the spectral trace of Mage Hand as it whizzes past her face, almost invisible, and she shies away instinctively.

"Not fast enough." Renna laughs. "Run!" A sharp pinch on the other earlobe sends her running for the door, flinging it open and sprinting out at a dead run, the sound of Merinda and Renna's laughter seeming to follow her mockingly along the corridor and up the stairs.

By the time she reaches Bren and Wulf's new dorm, she’s crying angry tears and gasping for breath. She doesn’t even have the presence of mind to knock, simply bursting in.

The dorm is set out exactly the same as hers on the floor below, four beds with a small set of drawers next to them, a window at one end, and four thin standing wardrobes against the wall opposite flanking the door to a cramped privy. All four of the room's inhabitants jump when the door bangs open, but as soon as she sees him, Astrid makes a beeline for Bren, almost blind to everything else around her.

Abandoning the shirt he had been putting onto a hanger to put away in one of the wardrobes, he wraps his arms tight around her as soon as she reaches him, and all she can do is sob into his chest. Behind her, she’s vaguely aware of Wulf quietly asking the other two boys sharing the room to leave, of the door closing Behind the, and finally of his large hand coming to rest on her shoulder with a supportive squeeze as Bren makes calming noises and rubs small soothing circles over her back.

With a last shuddering sob, her tears subside enough for her to manage to speak, her voice rough and choked. "Sorry."

"What for?" Bren asks incredulously.

"Bursting in crying like a pathetic idiot." She scrubs a hand roughly across her face, cross at herself for breaking down so easily. But everything had been so perfect. She’d been so full of hope, and now it all seems to lay in ruins.

"Did something happen?" Wulf asks quietly. One glance at his face, a mask of dangerous calm, tells her he’s near enough worked out what could have provoked such a strong reaction in her. "Who was it?"

"It's nothing really." She sniffs, shaking her head. "I’m ok."

Bren looks down at her, raising an eyebrow unconvincedly. "Astrid..."

"You can’t overreact, you’ll just make things worse. There’s nothing that can be done anyway. I’ve had a good cry, I’m ok now. Your room's nice." She says, forcing a smile and walking to the window to inspect the view. Her attempt at changing the subject sounds even weaker than she thought it would, but she tries anyway. "You didn’t have to make your roommates leave, will they mind? I don’t want to make things difficult between you all on your first day of living together."

She chews her bottom lip as the pair of them stare at her expectantly, not remotely convinced by the display. With a deep sigh she sits on the bed Bren's partially folded clothes are half occupying, putting her head in her hands. She feels the bed dip on either side of her as the boys sit too, the metal frame creaking in protest.

"Who upset you?" Bren asks, taking one of her hands in both of his.

"Promise you won’t do anything?"

He narrows his eyes, but nods begrudgingly after a moment. "I promise."

She turns to look at Wulf who meets her stare stubbornly. "Please?"

With an irritated sigh and a deep eye roll, he eventually gives in. "Fine. Now tell us what happened."

She swallows hard before beginning. "I’m sharing with Renna and Merinda again, Matron forced them to, so that didn’t exactly go down well. They told me to swap beds with Merinda and threatened me when I refused, but before I could do anything Renna cast Charm Person on me." Bren’s eyes widen in comprehension, while Wulf's darken dangerously. "But it was ok, I mean, they only got me to move my things to other bed, I really just overreacted. It was my own fault for trying to stand up to them, as though last year taught me nothing. I should have just done as they asked and I could have avoided all this." She finishes in a rush, trying to convince herself as much as them.

"They cast a spell on you that left you practically helpless for an hour. That’s not nothing Astrid. You need to tell Matron." Bren puts an arm around her shoulder and presses a kiss into her hair. "What if they do it again Schatz?"

Her muscles tense before she can stop them. "They probably won’t." She says weakly, knowing full well they’ve both seen through her by the increased concern in Bren's eyes and the tightness in Wulf's jaw. She half expects him to start grinding his teeth as she relents and fills them in on the threats the two girls made afterwards.

"How could you make us promise not to do anything!" Wulf shouts, rising from the bed to pace up and down the room. "We’re meant to just sit back and let them hurt you?"

"This is exactly why I made you promise, because I knew you’d both want to storm in and protect me. And don’t you try and deny it either," she stares accusingly at Bren's feigned look of innocence, "I know exactly what’s going on in your head. You’re trying to think of a clever way to get around your promise and warn them off."

He smiles grimly. "You know me too well... Wulf is right Astrid, we have to do something. There’s three of us and two of them, we have the advantage."

"Except I have to sleep just a few feet away from them every night, and you won’t be there then will you? If you charge in and teach them a lesson, you’ll only escalate things. They have plenty of friends, and plenty of influence. Remember how Ferdinard nearly got us expelled only a few months ago? I’ll just have to tow the line with them as much as I can, keep my head down, and hopefully they’ll get bored of their little power trip eventually."

"And if they don’t get bored?" Bren asks quietly.

"Then it’ll be a frustrating year." She shrugs, trying to make light of the situation for their benefit while inside she’s barely holding back her fear. "I'll be ok."

Wulf clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides a few times indecisively, looking towards the door as if still thinking about going to warn them off in spite of her reasoning. His shoulders slump abruptly and he huffs irritably. "I hoped things would be better this year. That maybe we’d proved ourselves now and they’d leave us alone."

"So did I." She smiles sadly. "At least you seem to be having more luck with your roommates, they didn’t argue when you asked them to go." She says, making an effort to seem at least a little cheerful.

Wulf shrugs, sitting down on the opposite bed. "They remember me punching Ferdinard last year, and I’m bigger than either of them."

"They have a healthy respect for our friend, specifically his biceps." Bren smirks.

"That’s something at least." She laughs. "Why don’t you two finish unpacking. I’ll wash my face because I must look a mess after all that silly crying, and then we can go and check out the second year library access. I know you’ve been dying to get your hands on some new books Bren. Sound good?"

Bren and Wulf both stare worriedly at her for a moment. She knows they can see straight through her, knows they’re fully aware of how scared she is really and how she’s trying to cover it up by being positive and taking charge. But they also seem to realise she needs the pretence and the distraction, and walking into their cramped little bathroom and closing the door behind her, she silently thanks them for knowing her so well.

I don’t know what I’d do without you two, she thinks to herself, splashing cold water onto her red blotched face and taking a few deep breaths to pull herself together.

By the time she exits the bathroom again the boys are waiting for her, having evidently both stuffed their clothing as untidily as possible into any available storage space beside their beds.

"You didn’t have to hurry for me." She says, rolling her eyes amusedly.

"There’ll be plenty of time to unpack properly later Schatz," Bren says, taking her hand to lead her towards the door.

Astrid can’t help but feel a little better when she sees Bren’s face light up at the mere sight of the library as they make their way across campus. As they enter the large oak double doors into the building, the strong musty smell of aged paper greets them, familiar and comforting. Bren closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, grinning contentedly from ear to ear.

"Never gets old." He says with a lopsided grin before setting off up the wide staircase to the higher levels. Astrid and Wulf exchange smiles of their own as they follow him.

The newly gained privileges of being in the second year extend not only to smaller dorm sizes, but also to greater library access. A whole three floors more than the previous year in fact, and Astrid can tell as they climb the wide winding staircase that Bren is putting real effort into acting cool about it. All three of them enjoy reading to an extent, but Bren is most passionate about it by far.

When they push open the brass-bound double doors into the first new level, Astrid makes sure to keep half an eye on Bren while taking in the array of floor to ceiling shelves, and isn’t disappointed. His eyes light up as they take in the vast space full of neatly stored manuscripts, scrolls, books and parchments, the sheer joy on his face making Astrid beam with pride and love for him.

They spend a good few hours rifling through various sections, considering the branch of magic they'd each like to explore most, pouring over spell books, reports on components and somatics and anything else they grab on a whim.

With the sun slanting through the lead-lined windows indicating late afternoon and each having chosen a book to borrow, they head first to the clerk's desk near the doors to sign them out before making their way back down the wide stone staircase. Bren still frowns in consideration as if unsure of his choice. Astrid smiles up at him, nudging him to distract him from his melancholy, making him grin in return.

By the time they reach the accommodation block, Astrid's good mood has slipped, reluctant at the prospect of seeing Melinda and Renna again later. Bren puts an arm around her shoulders, as if reading her mind, and gives her a reassuring squeeze.

"You’re not thinking of going back to yours just yet are you?" Wulf asks, a hint of worry in his voice.

Astrid shakes her head, casting her eyes down to the floor in sudden embarrassment. "They told me not to come back till this evening."

"You know, the sun hits the upper windows for a fraction longer than the lower windows, which logically makes our dorm the better for reading." Bren says nonchalantly. She gives him a small smile of gratitude. Having a reason not to go back to her own dorm, however flimsy, doesn’t feel quite so much like giving into the bullies.

The rest of the afternoon and evening, broken up by a visit to the mess hall for supper, seem to pass much faster than Astrid had wanted. Eventually, with Matron patrolling the halls like a sergeant major, clanging her hand bell to loudly proclaim that all students must return to their respective dorms, Astrid reluctantly stands up from where she’d been curled up on Bren's bed beside him with a heavy sigh. To her surprise, both boys get up as well.

"I don’t need a chaperone. Fat lot of good it’ll do anyway, but I do appreciate the sentiment."

"We’re coming and that’s that." Wulf says sternly, heading to the door to open it for her. "Would you let one of us do this alone?"

"We can’t do much for you Schatz, but we can do this." Bren nods determinedly, his face grim.

With another sigh, she exits the room without arguing and heads towards her own dorm, feeling a bit silly with the pair of them trailing after her like bodyguards, but certainly less alone.

"I’ll be fine." She says to them quietly as she opens the door, trying for a reassuring smile but missing the mark entirely in a grimace. Neither of them look convinced either. There’s a sudden loud squeak from inside the room and thumping footsteps hurrying towards the door before Mura suddenly appears in front of her.

"Astrid!" She beams, flinging her arms around her in a tight hug. Astrid has no choice but to go along with it, patting Mura's back awkwardly and looking sideways to the boys who seem just as surprised as she is. Through the open doorway she catches sight of Renna and Merinda deep in conversation but sparing sneering glances and eye rolls for the four of them. "I was catching up with my friends when you arrived this morning and by the time I got back here you were out. I couldn’t believe it when Renna and Merinda told me you were our other roommate!"

Astrid's shock fades enough for her to smile back at the enthusiastic girl, who finally releases her from the death hug and steps away. She and Mura have never been close exactly, but she’s always been kind at least. A bit full on perhaps, but right now Astrid couldn’t care less about that. Relief floods through her that with Mura there, the other two girls are less likely to do anything too terrible.

Mura's gaze flickers momentarily towards Bren and Wulf still standing bewildered in the corridor, and her smile is replaced with a haughty glare directed at the larger boy. It’s so quick Astrid barely catches it, but from Wulf's reaction he certainly does. He opens his mouth but Mura, grin restored as her attention falls back to Astrid, cuts him off before he can speak. "Come on Astrid, let’s catch up before lights out. You can tell me all about what you did this summer. I went down to the Menagerie Coast with Mother and Father, have you been there? It’s perfection..."

And with that, as Mura practically drags her into the room still chatting nonstop, it’s all Astrid can do to manage a small shrug over her shoulder at the boys before the door closes on them.

Chapter 20: Tea and Feathers

Notes:

It’s not even been a month since I updated! Result!

I got quite a few new kudos since the last chapter, so whether you’re a new reader, you’ve been along a while and decided this is Ok after all, or you were just being kind when you clicked that kudos button, thank you! It honestly really means a lot to know people are reading this thing.

"She's a whirlwind. She talked my ear off for another two hours after lights out, then as soon as she woke up this morning, she was at it again! I don’t know how you ever manage to stop her talking Wulf." Astrid sighs amusedly as she catches the boys up with the events from the previous night with Mura at breakfast in the mess hall.

"Her mouth's good for lots of things I just try to keep it occupied elsewhere." Wulf smirks, but his usual mirth at making them uncomfortable by being crass is distinctly lacking.

Astrid grins, trying to hide it by taking a spoonful of porridge. "She’s not pleased with you."

Wulf tuts and rolls his eyes, sinking down further into his chair in a huff as Bren snorts a laugh. 

"What did you do?" He asks.

When Wulf just shrugs, scowling at his empty breakfast bowl, Astrid feels compelled to answer on his behalf. "It’s not what he did, it’s what he didn’t do that’s the problem. He didn’t write to her over the summer break."

"At all?" Bren asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Not once. And she found out about one of his other lovers here too." She grins broadly when Wulf sticks his tongue out at her in response.

Finishing his own breakfast, Bren hisses through his teeth ruefully. "Oh dear. That’s that then I suppose. You had a good run Wulf."

Wulf grunts, flicking at a stray piece of oatmeal on the table. "I know I was going to call things off, but I really do like her." He whines.

"I’ll talk to her Wulf, maybe I can convince her to hear you out." Astrid smiles up encouragingly at him. "If it’s any consolation, she talked about you a lot, I think she really likes you too. She wanted me to tell her everything you got up to over the summer, every little detail. You don’t do that if you're not interested in someone."

He looks at her warily. "You didn’t tell her everything though, did you..?"

"I left out the bit where you got caught in bed with Berda. And, oh yes, the bit where you accidentally proposed to me. I didn’t think that would go down too well considering."

Wulf nods, breaking out in a slow grin. "Good. That’s good. Maybe I have a shot with her still after all then. If you can convince her to meet me alone, I’m sure I can find some way to convince her to give me another chance." His grin becomes sly, and Astrid can’t help but roll her eyes.

Across the table, Bren groans frustratedly. "Do you like her? Because it sounds as if this has more to do with your dick than what’s actually best for her. I know I have fairly limited experience where romance is concerned, but even I can see you’re being an arschloch."

Wulf blinks in surprise at the unexpected outburst before frowning at him. "Thanks for the support..."

"I have your back Wulf, you know I do, you’re family to me. But I’m not going to stand back and let you treat Mura like scheiße under the pretence of caring for her, especially not if she seems to genuinely care about you. If you really like her, treat her with some respect, and if you can’t do that, leave her to find someone who will. You can’t just treat people badly because you’re hurting, in the end it will only make you feel worse.”

Astrid sits awkwardly between the pair of them as they trade glares in silence. Eventually, grinding his teeth audibly, Wulf turns slowly to her. "And what do you think?"

"You can’t ask me to pick a side, that’s not fair."

"I’m not, I'm asking for your honest opinion on the situation. Bren's given his, now I want to hear yours." Wulf says evenly, his eyes stern.

"Well..." she begins warily. "I want you to be happy, and if that’s with her, I’ll help you to achieve it however I can. But Bren is right, you have treated her badly. You need to make up for it. And... maybe you do need to consider what’s best for her."

He nods thoughtfully, his expression softening. "Thank you. Both of you. I appreciate your honesty."

With breakfast done, the three of them head over to the main hall for second year enrolment. With five compulsory classes every student must take, science, history, numeracy, literacy and arcane theory, that leaves five slots left to tailor her learning to whatever she's most interested in, and Astrid finds that prospect rather daunting. Wulf takes it all in his stride of course, opting for a more combat magic-centric approach, and Bren being Bren he’s already planned in great detail exactly what he wants to do this year. Undecided between transmutation and evocation as a focus, he confidently takes classes in both, as well as a few other subjects he finds interesting.

Astrid feels lost, almost as though it’s her first day all over again. She hadn’t really had Wulf or Bren back then of course, but in a way their confidence brings her indecision into sharper focus. Making her way around the various tables set up around the edge of the hall, she listens to the teachers explaining to other students what their classes will entail, hoping that will help her make up her mind. By that method, she signs up to Illusion, Politics, Symbology and Abjuration.

She’s still milling about trying to decide on her last class when Bren joins her again, slipping in easily beside her and taking her hand. Contact between them is so natural now it feels as though they’ve been together for years rather than just a few months. She still gets goosebumps when he looks at her as though she’s the only girl in the world, still shivers when he kisses her, but there’s something comfortably normal about it all too. It feels stable, and right, and she can’t imagine ever wanting it to end.

"Having trouble deciding?" He asks, reading her mind as he often seems to. She nods with a small sigh. "Think about the subjects you most enjoyed last year and how you can expand on them."

"Apart from things I’ve already chosen, I most enjoyed science I suppose. Biology mainly, but that’s not much use to a wizard."

"It’s not always about how much use something is, if you’ve exhausted all other options, the logical solution is to pick something you enjoy. Maybe your passion will uncover a use for it you didn’t expect, perhaps something no one else has thought of before." She looks up at him in amused skepticism. "Alright that’s unlikely, but it’s not impossible. You’re thinking too much. Just pick something and if you hate it or want to do something else later you can always swap in first term anyway. You have good instincts, go with your gut."

Nodding to herself she looks in turn at each of the three long lines of tables again, considering carefully, and finally deciding on medicine. Certainly a wildcard, but speaking to the professor at the desk only helps her make up her mind and finally, she finds herself signed up to her five option classes and happy with her choices, however mad some of them might seem.

"I’m proud of you Schatz." Bren says when she makes her way back over to him, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Wulf has joined him in the meantime, his attention elsewhere as he casually scans the hall. Astrid can guess who he’s looking out for, though whether to avoid her or seek her out is unclear.

"You’d be proud if I sneezed. You give me too much credit."

"Well I love you, I’m allowed." He murmurs, rubbing their noses together. Wulf simply continues to watch the rest of the hall, for once not commenting their overt display of affection.

"Ah, you three!" A clipped, unfamiliar voice calls through the crowd, making them turn in unison. It doesn’t take long to locate the speaker, a tall half elf woman short of her middle years, her dark hair scraped into an untidy bun on the top of her head and gold rimmed glasses framing shrewd bird like eyes that seem to weigh all three of them up in a glance. Her clothes are a mismatched collection of woollens and tweeds in brown, green and purple, as though thrown on without much thought to appearance, only functionality, but as she strides purposefully through the milling students towards them, her beaming smile is undoubtedly friendly. Astrid doesn’t know quite what to make of her, and by the looks on the boys' faces, they don’t either. "No need to look so worried, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’ve heard a lot about you three you see."

"About us..?" Wulf stammers, obviously expecting the worst. Astrid can’t recall ever having seen the woman before, and she’s fairly sure she would have remembered, but she is clearly a member of the faculty.

"Yes. I presume you are Eadwulf, Bren and Astrid?" She looks at them all in turn, blinking patiently. They nod unsurely. "Well there we are, it is you after all. Your test scores last year were rather impressive I must say. Quite remarkable given your long list of apparent extra curricular escapades." She chuckles to herself. "Still, I get the distinct impression my predecessor may have had some bias, and I tend not to judge someone until I know them personally."

"Your predecessor?" Astrid asks, eyes wide with confusion.

"Oh! Of course, silly me. My mother always says to me, Philomena, you'd forget your head if it weren’t screwed on tight!" She laughs to herself again, not a bit abashed. "I’m professor Philomena Bashere. I’m your new head of year."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance Professor Bashere." Bren says smoothly, making a good effort to overcome his bewilderment, even inclining his head briefly towards her. Astrid and Wulf quickly follow suit, not wanting to seem impolite.

Professor Bashere waves them off with a smile. "Enough of all that formality. I expect you to do as I ask, work hard and follow the rules," she says pointedly, though with some amusement, "but you’re my students, not my subjects. I’ve never been one for bowing and scraping. Teaching shouldn’t be a power trip, and if it is, you’re in the job for the wrong reasons, wouldn’t you say?" The three of them nod emphatically. After suffering Starek for a whole year, Professor Bashere seems almost too good to be true. "Well, I’ll leave you to get on with your day now, but it was good to put faces to names. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow for full year assembly in the Alfwin Hall."

And just like that, she turns on her heel and strides away, quickly collaring another group of students to talk to.

"That was... wow." Wulf says, letting out a deep breath.

"Ja... At least she seems nicer than Starek." Bren shrugs, giving himself a little shake. "So, what shall we do now? Classes don’t start till tomorrow so we have the afternoon free."

"Actually, I have an errand to run in the city." Astrid swallows hard, trying not to let her nerves show. "I’ll meet you both back at your dorm though, in an hour or so maybe."

She leaves them at the accommodation building and continues on to the west gate, through the Shimmer Ward and the inner city wall to the heaving rabbit warren streets of the Tangles. Skirting the edge of the Platinum Veranda's opulent dwellings and luxury emporiums, she heads further west towards the Court of Colours. Here the streets are a bustling hubbub of activity, winding and criss-crossing to make roughly square shaped blocks interspersed with a maze of tiny alleyways and passages. She supposes with a birds eye view it might look vaguely neat, but down here, crowded on all sides between the tight-packed buildings, it seems absolute chaos.

The closer she gets to the main plaza of the Court of Colours, the more raucous the streets seem to become, and the more the shops, trading posts and inns seem to outnumber the houses. Richly dressed merchants strut surrounded by their plain armoured guards, some in lacquered coaches with their sigils painted on the doors, some lounging in sedan chairs with their bearers trotting alongside. Shop keepers call to the passing crowds, advertising their wares in a constant shouting competition with their neighbours. Street hawkers dodge quickly through the throng with their trays of small goods, hoping to ply passing trade, and occasionally on street corners musicians, acrobats and jugglers perform for tips.

Astrid loses her way a few times in the clamour, but eventually finds what she’s looking for, a narrow cobbled lane called Blue Carp Street, and halfway down it the apothecary Mura had recommended to her the night before, the Resplendent Remedy. Pushing open the nondescript wooden door, Astrid hopes the shopkeeper makes a better job of mixing herbs than she did coming up with a name for her shop.

Her eyes adjust quickly to the dim interior, finding shelves packed floor to rafters with all manner of bottles, jars, boxes and packets, broken up only by a short, polished wooden counter against the rear wall. A large black oak table occupies the centre of the space, stacked neatly with what could only be called curiosities, stuffed animals in odd poses, small boxes in different shapes and styles, statues, goblets, bones...

"Can I help you?" A reedy voice asks, making Astrid jump. It takes her a moment to locate the source of the voice, a small Halfling woman, gnarled and heavily wrinkled, half bent over on the wooden ladder she’s painstakingly descending, her hair completely white. Astrid swallows hard.

"Ah, guten tag... good day Frau." She says when the woman finally reaches the floor, wincing at the Zemnian that automatically rolls off her tongue, feeling foolish. "I’m looking for... I was told this was a good place for... uh..."

The old woman stands in front of her patiently, looking up at her with intent beady eyes. "Yes...?"

Astrid thinks she might just die of embarrassment. "Tea. For... tea that um... to prevent..."

The old woman breaks into sudden laughter that warms her face considerably, and begins to shuffle towards the counter. "You youngsters. You think you invented sex. I have fifteen grandchildren, fifteen! And five children of my own. You think they all magically appeared from thin air?" The woman chuckles again and Astrid, following behind, can’t help but laugh herself in relief.

"No I suppose not."

"I’m Mistress Hilltop. What’s your name child?" The halfling asks as she steps up on a wooden crate behind the counter, reaching into a glass cabinet with a sliding door that squeaks in protest when she opens it. For a second Astrid considers making something up to remain anonymous, but she has a feeling the old woman will see right through her.

"Astrid." She answers, trying not to shuffle.

"And how old are you Astrid?"

"Seventeen." The woman nods, placing a wooden canister onto the counter top and beginning to spoon out ground up leaves with a reddish tinge to them into a small brown paper bag.

"Well, it matters none to me what your plans are that mean you need these, but just you make sure your man deserves you. And if you ever find that he doesn’t, you send him here and I’ll crack him in the shins till he weeps." She grins fiercely, nodding towards a crooked walking stick propped up against the wall to the side of the counter.

"I don’t think he’ll need that but thank you anyway." Astrid laughs, taking the bag the woman holds out to her and giving her the five copper pieces she requests in return.

"That’s what they all say my dear." The halfling sighs. "One level teaspoon per brew should see you right, and make sure to drink it within twenty-four hours after intercourse." Astrid flushes bright red at the word, and the old woman shakes her head in amusement.

Walking back through the crowded streets, Astrid clutches the bag close, trying to look inconspicuous but knowing she’s failing. Her cheeks feel aflame the whole way to the gates of the Shimmer Ward, and it seems like everyone who even glances her way knows exactly what is in the plain brown paper bag, though she knows that’s ridiculous.

Nonsense, she thinks to herself, squaring her shoulders and digging deep to find some confidence. I’m a young woman, old enough by more than a year legally to be having sex... her cheeks heat again at even just thinking the word ...and being embarrassed about it is ridiculous. Still, when she reaches the school gates, she can’t help but worry again that someone will know.

When she finally reaches the safety of her dorm, finding it mercifully empty, she’s glad to hide the small bag in the back of her bedside drawer for whenever she might need it, and heads upstairs to find the boys again.

"Finished your errands in town?" Bren asks as she snuggles against his chest. Reclining lazily on his bed reading one of the books they borrowed from the library the previous day, he slips an arm around her shoulders, not taking his eyes from the page.

"Where did you go?" Wulf asks from the floor, breathing hard and drenched in sweat counting under his breath as he continues the press ups he’s obviously been doing for a while.

"Nowhere important." She shrugs, hoping he’ll leave it there. He looks up at her, quirking an eyebrow, but doesn’t ask her to elaborate. "Why are you exercising yourself to death?"

"I’m losing muscle tone after not smithing for over a year, have to keep in shape somehow, you two should try it some time." Astrid reaches over to his bed to grab a pillow and launches it at him. It bounces harmlessly off his head and he grins at her.

"It’s what he does when he’s thinking about something." Bren says distractedly, still not looking up from his book.

Rising to his feet, Wulf stretches out his shoulders and cricks his neck. "Should I go and find her do you think?"

"Who?" Bren mumbles.

Astrid tuts, nudging him in the ribs. "Mura, obviously." He grunts disinterestedly. "Maybe leave it a bit longer Wulf, and definitely not stinking of sweat. We start classes tomorrow, concentrate on that instead. What did you sign up for this morning, I didn’t ask earlier."

"Anything remotely related to combat magic of course." He grins, seemingly distracted already, though Astrid knows better. "I have introduction classes for abjuration and evocation tomorrow. Bren said you each took one of those so that’s something."

"It’s going to be strange being in so many classes without you both." She muses, playing idly with a lock of her shoulder length hair. "I suppose we’ll have more to talk about now at least."

Wulf smiles, sitting on his bed opposite. "Always looking on the bright side aren’t you."

"Better than moping." She grins. Without warning, Wulf stealthily bends to retrieve his pillow from where she’d hit him with it and throws it at Astrid's head. Laughing, she grabs it just as it impacts her face, tossing it back one handedly. He catches it easily and immediately moves to start hitting her and Bren with it, sending her into a fit of giggles. Bren moans half heartedly about losing his place in the book while trying to fish his own pillow out from behind his back to retaliate.

It isn’t until later, while she’s helping the boys to clean up the mass of goose down feathers scattered around the dorm from the pillows, that Astrid realises that despite the threat still hanging over her from Renna and Merinda, she’s excited again at the prospect of another year at the Academy. That for moments like these, she’ll gladly weather any storm coming her way.

Notes:

That Exandria book is so incredibly useful for chapters like this.

Chapter 21: Close Encounters

Notes:

Actually managed to write almost all of this in one day! I blame episode 110 which just aired. Wow, is all I’ll say...

Once again I must sing the praises of the Exandria Campaign Book, it’s my go to for accurate little details and I love it.

Some dodgy German and some Exandrian terms too:
Miresen - Exandrian Monday
Grissen - Exandrian Tuesday
Whelsen - Exandrian Wednesday
Halt - Stop
Nein - Only kidding, you know that one...
Meine leibe - My love
Urkomischer - Hilarious
Fessuran - An Exandrian autumn month.
Guten Morgan - Good morning

The first few weeks of term are as intense as Astrid expected them to be, with so many new classrooms and teachers, not to mention five extra subjects compared with first year. It seems to her that for the first few days she spends most of her time getting lost in the vast labyrinth of corridors and classrooms. To ease them in gently, first year classes had almost all been on the same level in the east wing. Now they're all over the place, with some classes back to back on opposite sides of the campus, meaning they have to run or risk being late, something not taken kindly by most of the professors.

Thrown straight in at the deep end, but mercifully together at least, their first class bright and early on a Miresen morning is two hours of history. Astrid and Wulf, along with the rest of the initially enthusiastic class, soon find themselves bored to tears and struggling to stay awake. Bren, of course, laps up every single detail and never loses focus. The two hours of Arcane theory at the end of the day are no better, and this time a number of students really do fall asleep, one being Ferdinard. Astrid watches with no small measure of delight as they’re woken one by one with a sharp smack on the back of the head. Professor Ghenji is clearly not one for mercy, she notes.

Their speciality classes are no less intense but at least more engaging. Of the five subjects she chose, Eadwulf and Bren share three of them, and she’s certainly glad for the companionship. She feels their absence especially keenly during Symbology, not least because Ferdinard, Merinda and Renna take it too, as well as many of their hangers on. She’s well used to being ostracised, she takes it in her stride now, but the giggling, sneers and increasing volume of low level magical attacks are a problem. Nothing that would hurt her or get them noticed by their professor, Astrid knows they wouldn’t dare risk that, but it’s distracting and demeaning nonetheless.

Medicine class turns out to be a welcome respite. It’s a small class, not popular with many of the Academy's rich kids as they feel the subject is beneath them, and despite initially choosing it as a filler class for her seemingly pointless interest in biology, Astrid enjoys it even more than she thought she would. Many of the other students seem to have taken it as filler too, using it as an opportunity to doze, much to the quiet disgruntlement of Professor Krüger, a flustered but unarguably knowledgable human man in his latter years.

He looks about as dusty as the classroom itself, both exuding an air of having been largely forgotten about. The Grissen afternoon sunshine slanting through the tiny high windows of the basement level classroom catches motes of shimmering dust in the broken beams of light, but Astrid hardly notices that when he starts talking. She’s quickly captivated, soaking in every scrap of information she can, asking questions, taking endless notes. She smiles to herself as she leaves the class for the first time, realising she must have looked like Bren every time he enters the library.

With Mura sharing the dorm, things with Renna and Merinda at least haven’t been as bad as Astrid had feared they might be. She spends as little time as possible in the room still though, leaving first thing in the morning and not returning till almost lights out every night. Still, the two girls manage to find ways to assert their authority when they can, pulling small pranks and using spells to harass her at every opportunity.

Before she knows it they’ve been back a full month and a half, and it feels as though they never left at all, as though summer was just a dream. Her mother writes a few times, short letters clearly geared more towards information gathering than affection and barely even mentioning school, focussing instead on what connections she’s made and giving unsolicited advice on how to flirt with the upper classes. All pretty mortifying reading, but the boys seem to find them hilarious at least.

Summer quickly turns to autumn, the trees beginning to shed their leaves and the temperature dropping quite suddenly, as the nights draw in and the weather turns murky, wet and windy. In Blumenthal, Harvest's Close, or Ernte Ende as it’s known more commonly there, is celebrated vigorously with days of communal feasting and festivals. In the city however, it’s a much more sedate affair, marked by a weekend carnival held in the Tangles. Despite all three of them having essays to hand in on Miresen morning, Wulf insists that they go for at least a few hours one evening, and although they have to spend the rest of the night huddled in the kitchens finishing their assignments without sleep, they all agree it was worth it.

With so many extra classes and an increased expectation for hard work, study periods become just that for the most part. The three of them quickly work out a routine, meeting in disused classrooms, the library, or long forgotten corners, avoiding the dorms during the day for chance of bumping into people they’d rather avoid.

It’s during one of these study sessions that Astrid finds herself missing the comparatively empty schedule of first year. Halfway through writing a thoroughly mind numbing essay on the symbological importance of rune sequences within transformative spells and rituals, she makes the mistake of looking over at Bren, sat just across from her on the floor. It’s a gloomy Whelsen morning, clouds roiling in the sky threatening cold autumn rain and a strong breeze rattling the window panes of the abandoned classroom they’re studying in.

Usually it would be all three of them here, but today Wulf muttered something about having to be somewhere else and dashed straight off after abjuration class, so it’s just her and Bren. And Astrid is painfully aware of it. He’s none the wiser of course, completely absorbed in his book of transmutation theory, but the sun appears briefly from between the clouds and sets his dark flame coloured hair alight, and she knows she’s not going to be able to concentrate on her essay any longer.

With a wicked smirk, she knocks the book from his hands with her foot and pounces on him. He makes a startled noise, cut off into a muffled grunt as her mouth finds his. He manages to catch himself from falling back, hands braced behind him on the floor, and she takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, finding him as willing as she thought he’d be despite the exasperated sigh he exhales through his nose.

"Astrid..." he mumbles against her lips when she draws back an inch for air. She kisses him again before he has a chance to speak any sense about why they don’t have time to be doing this. He sighs again, this time clearly in defeat, his hands finally moving to her back to pull her closer.

When the ten o' clock bell rings, signifying half their study period gone, they draw apart both thoroughly out of breath. "I can’t believe you kicked my book. That is not acceptable behaviour Schatz." Bren tuts, glancing over to the tome now lying closed on the floor a few feet away.

"I want you to know, I’m not remotely sorry." She grins at him, leaning back to stretch, still straddling his thighs. She lets out a choked gasp, folding forward as he tickles her sides. "Halt! Nein, halt... stop it!" She giggles, grabbing at his shoulders. Laughing, he stops after a moment, kissing her cheek and brandishing a grin of his own. She feels a scratch of stubble against her skin, taking his chin in her fingers to inspect it when he moves back.

He grimaces. "I know. I was trying it out but it looks ridiculous. And it’s itchy. I’ll shave it tonight if I have time."

"I kind of like it." She shrugs, releasing his chin. "It’s not very you though. You’re so... neat usually."

"Perhaps I’ll grow a beard one day and surprise you." He smirks. She laughs at that mental image, kissing him again, this time slow and deep, savouring the light scratch of the tiny hairs he seems unlikely to sport again any time soon. A shame, she thinks to herself. His hips start to involuntarily roll under her, the hands at her waist gently urging her to move as well. She happily obliges and he moans into her mouth as she shifts her hips forward slightly, to where she knows he wants the pressure, wishing they had more time. They never seem to have enough time alone.

Reluctantly, she shuffles back slightly after a minute, knowing they won’t be able to finish what they’ve started. He groans, letting his hands drop to the floor and leaning back on his elbows. Suddenly, she's reminded of the little bag of tea leaves sitting in the back of her bedside drawer.

"What is it?" He asks, tilting his head quizzically as she feels herself blush furiously.

"Well... not that it really helps our situation all that much. Or maybe it does..." she laughs nervously, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. "But I got hold of some of that tea we needed..."

"Tea?" He frowns confusedly, before his eyes widen in realisation and he sits up straight. "Oh. That tea." She nods, smiling as he swallows hard. "You really are ready..."

"Why, are you not any more?"

"Yes! Oh, yes." He laughs nervously. "So ready meine leibe..." his fingers brush her cheek affectionately, making her blush all over again. "But not here like this. We’ll work something out."

A new wave of heat washes over her with that thought, and she scrambles to her feet before she can fall back into kissing him again. "I need to run back to my dorm and get a sweater, it’s colder than I thought today and I have Illusion class next. I don’t know what it is about that classroom but it’s always freezing in there."

"I’ll walk with you. I have Quantum Mechanics next period so it’s on the way." Bren says as he gets to his feet too, retrieving his abandoned book and slipping his cloak on.

"I will never understand how you can study that. It’s so boring."

"Is not. It’s how the world works, it’s fascinating." He says indignantly opening the door for her and holding it as she walks through.

"Danke. You know I enjoy the sciences Bren but it’s so... bland." The corridor is empty, and with none of the six classrooms on this level of the north wing in regular use, it’s a perfect place to study without risk of being found and harassed by Ferdinard's clique.

"It’s vital to understanding the physical forces involved in spell casting. To interpret how spells actually manipulate matter, how they can alter the atomic structure even of the object or being they’re focussed on..." he raises an eyebrow as she makes snoring sounds. "Ha ha. Urkomischer Schatz. Next time you talk to me about your Medicine classes, I’ll know what to do."

"You love hearing about them and you know it." She laughs, taking his hand as they reach the stairs and begin to descend. "And I love that you love it, and that you love learning how our world works."

"I do." He grins lopsidedly. "Oh, I remembered I wanted to tell you something. Guess who caught me in the corridor yesterday on my way to Politics class?"

"King Dwendal?" She jokes, jumping the bottom few steps. Bren snorts.

"Almost. Zivan Margolin."

Astrid looks at him incredulously. "Zivan Margolin? The headmaster?" He nods, grinning. "What for? You’re not in trouble?"

"What would I be in trouble for?" He scoffs. "I never break the rules." She laughs as he winks at her. They reach the foyer, and this time she holds the door open for him. "Danke."

Shivering when the cool Fessuran wind hits her, Bren wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "What did he want with you then?"

"Nothing. Well, nothing obvious anyway. He asked me how my studies were going, if I was enjoying my time here, just general stuff really. But he knew my name."

"Why on Exandria would he know your name? I mean, not that you aren’t brilliant or anything, but he’s Zivan Margolin."

"I know, it was very odd. He just asked a few questions about my studies and left. It didn’t seem important at the time but I’ve been thinking about it and now I’m not so sure. He hasn’t spoken to you then I take it?"

"Of course not, why would he talk to me?" She laughs.

"Well why would he talk to me." He says, poking her in the side.

"Good point. How did you forget to tell me something like that anyway?"

He shrugs, bending to kiss the top of her head. "You’re very distracting Schatz."

She snuggles closer into him, hoping he won’t see her fresh blush. "Smooth Ermendrud, smooth."

They reach the dorms in plenty of time, and with no rush to get to his next class, Bren follows her up the stairs to her room to maximise the time they have together instead of leaving straight away.

"I’ll just grab my sweater," she says, reaching for the door handle, "and then we should have some time still to go sit in one of the gardens for a few minutes before going to our..." walking in, she stops dead at the sight of a very naked Wulf on Mura's bed with a very naked Mura beneath him. She squeaks, turning around to face away so fast she nearly falls over.

"Ah... hello." Bren says awkwardly, ducking back behind the door with a smirk.

"Hi!" Mura giggles. Astrid hears Wulf snort amusedly, and mutter something under his breath to her which sends her into more giggles.

"I’m really glad you two are obviously back together and all but... here, now... really?" Astrid says, aware her tone is perilously close to whining.

"When the need takes you." Wulf chuckles, and Astrid thinks that maybe after this she’ll never feel aroused again... "Really though, do you think you could maybe leave so we can... finish?" Mura giggles again and Astrid all but launches herself towards Bren and the doorway, fumbling the door closed without a moment's hesitation.

"Well..." Bren laughs. "That happened."

"We are never, ever doing that. Not there, anyway. Like that. Anyone could walk in. Anyone did!" Bren chuckles, tucking his arm around her again. As they walk away, an audible rhythmic thud, thud, thud starts up, followed by a loud keening moan that sets Astrid's teeth on edge. Even Bren grimaces then.

As they round the corner to the stairwell, a loud brisk tapping on the wooden boards below alerts them to Matron's presence, rapidly approaching and apparently on a mission. Bren and Astrid look at each other in horror and rush down the stairs together.

"Ah, guten morgan Matron... how are you today?" Bren stutters when they find her on the short landing between levels, stopping beside each other and inadvertently blocking her path.

"Very well thank you Master Bren." She replies suspiciously, looking at them both in turn. "Busy, if you would excuse me, I’m sure I just heard a noise upstairs that warrants investigation..." she moves forward, clearly wanting them to move out of the way, but they hold their ground, both tensing.

"It was me! I tripped and stubbed my toe." Astrid smiles, hoping she sounds believable. Matron looks at her skeptically. She moves as if to leave again and Bren jumps in.

"Matron, I’ve been meaning to ask, I wondered if you could help me." Matron sighs impatiently but stops again, folding her arms.

"Well?" She prompts, tapping her foot.

"Uh... I... have a rash." He shoots Astrid a desperate look. "On my... uh... my behind..." Matron arches an eyebrow.

"That sounds private, I’ll uh, leave you to it. I forgot, I left a book in my room." She laughs nervously. "I’ll see you in class Bren. Goodbye Matron." She starts off up the stairs without waiting for a reply, trying not to look as though she’s rushing despite wanting to run. Behind her she hears Matron ask Bren to hurry up and show her this rash, and Astrid suddenly regrets not staying...

As soon as she hits the top step she does break into a run, though she soon finds there’s no need as Wulf comes sauntering out of the dorm looking thoroughly disheveled and very pleased with himself, cloak slung over his shoulder and tie hanging undone around his neck. "Sorry about that. We'd have left a sock on the door handle if we could but it’s kind of a red flag if Matron happens to be walking past..."

"Yea about that." she says hurriedly, taking his arm without stopping and turning him to start leading him along the corridor in the opposite direction to the stairs. "She heard you and she’s coming up here to investigate. Bren's probably showing her his ass right this second to stall her so we’d better be quick. She already wasn’t convinced, and if she sees you she’s going to know exactly what you’ve been doing."

"His ass.. what?"

Astrid snorts a laugh. "I’ll tell you later, let’s just get out of here."

They make their way to the other end of the building, to the service stairs they’d previously used to sneak out at night. Tiptoeing down, they hurry out into the courtyard gardens, through a snug alley and out to the back of the building. Peering cautiously around the wall at the main entrance, they don’t have to wait long before Bren appears, hands thrust deep into his pockets and shoulders slouched. His route back towards the main Academy building takes him right past them, and they fall in beside him.

"So, what happened?" Astrid asks, looking up at him.

He grunts and gives a little shiver, glancing over at Wulf. "You know how I owed you one for helping us avoid her mother at Hochsommer? We’re even now."

Wulf nods consideringly. "Seems fair. Perhaps Mura and I can do the same for you one day." Astrid and Bren look at each other, both flushing red as Wulf grins at them.

Chapter 22: What Friends Are For

Notes:

I’m sorry this has taken so long. Real life got hectic, I had to get another fic out of my head, and I’ve been preparing for NaNoWriMo. But I finally got my bum into gear and finished this chapter!

Bad translations:
Viel besser - much better
Prost - cheers
Kleine - little

Shrugging into her coat and bending to put on her shoes, Astrid isn’t even surprised when the glass of water from her bedside table suddenly flies towards her, blocking it deftly with her arm. It drops to the floor with a clatter, rolling harmlessly under the bed as Merinda and Renna laugh. Mura eyes her sympathetically from the bed opposite, continuing to get dressed in silence. Astrid understands - she wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of the other girls either, if she had the choice.

"How clumsy of you Astrid." Renna giggles. "With reflexes like that you’ll never be even a half decent caster." They’re still tittering as they grab their satchels and leave the room. Astrid screws her face up at them as soon as they're safely out the door.

"Sorry." Mura says, leaning across the bed to hand Astrid a handkerchief. She accepts it gratefully and begins to blot at the damp patches on her coat and skirt. Could have been worse, she thinks to herself, trying to be positive. She’s finding that harder and harder recently, as the attacks have grown in both frequency and severity.

"It’s ok." She replies smiling. "They wouldn’t stop if you said something anyway, they’d just go after you too. No need for us both to suffer."

"I know but still... they’re way out of line. I hate seeing them bully you. I was thinking, maybe I could do something to help make it up to you." Astrid glances at her. It's been almost a week since the... incident with her and Wulf, but still Astrid struggles to look at Mura without blushing. It’s not as though she isn't used to seeing her and her other two roommates in various states of undress, they share a dorm after all, it's par for the course. But there’s naked and then there’s... that.

"You really don’t need to do anything Mura." She says, trying not to sound uncomfortable. "I’m not upset with you."

"I know, but it’s not just that. You helped me and Wulfy before, I think it’s time we helped you and Bren out too." Mura grins slyly. Astrid pauses in drying her clothes to stare at the other girl.

"Help us out...?"

"Yes, you know, with some alone time." Mura grins. Astrid blinks, snapping her mouth shut when she realises it’s hanging open. "To have sex." Mura adds amusedly, as if it hadn’t been entirely clear what she meant already.

"I... don’t know what to say..." Astrid stutters, hanging the handkerchief over the bed frame to dry. "What... what exactly are you planning to do to achieve that?"

"Well," Mura claps her hands together eagerly, "I talked to Wulfy, and the plan is to distract..."

"You talked to Wulf about this already?" Astrid interrupts, staring at her incredulously.

"Well of course." Mura giggles. "It was his plan really, once I got the ball rolling. He’s very good at this stuff you know. So, anyway, like I was saying, I'll distract Renna and Merinda to make sure they stay away from here for a while, meanwhile, Wulfy will deal with Matron, and you two can get down to it in peace. Perfect huh!?"

Astrid feels her jaw drop again and let’s it hang open this time. "I don’t... know what to say..." she murmurs when she can finally speak.

"It’s ok, like I said, we're just returning the favour. Wulfy said you two had been thinking about doing it for a while now so I figured it was perfect timing!"

"Oh he did, did he..." Astrid says between gritted teeth, turning to grab her satchel in an effort to hide flushed cheeks that are equal parts embarrassment and annoyance. Bloody Wulf... bloody Bren!

"Don’t be mad at him." Mura smiles knowingly. "He really cares about you both. It can be so difficult to find even just a few minutes alone in this place, you don’t want that for your first time together. It doesn’t matter how ready you are, it’s always scary. The last thing you want is to be scared about being discovered too."

Astrid can’t argue with that, so she forces herself to smile back. Mura really does mean well, after all. "Thank you Mura. I do appreciate it."

Mura's answering grin is enthusiastic to say the least. "Excellent, we were thinking this weekend!"

"This weekend! You’ve planned it already?" Astrid squeaks, following the other girl out into the corridor.

"There you are, we were about to send in a search party." Wulf stands up from where he stood lounging against the doorframe, looking confused when Astrid flashes a glare at him as she passes by. Mura quickly distracts him by launching herself at him, the pair kissing as though they haven’t seen each other in weeks instead of barely ten hours ago.

Bren presses a kiss to her cheek, and with barely a glance back at the others, she grabs his hand and hurriedly leads him off down the corridor, leaving Wulf and Mura to it.

"You told Wulf we were thinking about... about having..." blushing furiously she mouths the word sex, immediately feeling ridiculous for not being able to say it out loud.

"Was I not meant to?" He asks worriedly.

Astrid sighs. "I suppose we never discussed keeping it to ourselves. But he told Mura, and now they’ve cooked up some plan to give us an opportunity to have the dorm to ourselves."

"Oh..." He says glancing back at them, turning away again with a grimace at the overt public display of affection. "Is that a bad thing?"

"For this weekend Bren."

He cocks an eyebrow at her, and then it’s his turn to blush. "Oh."

She sighs, sweeping a hand through her hair in exasperation. "It’s not a bad thing exactly. It’s nice of them to offer, and I really did mean it when I said I was ready, I just... it’s all a bit sudden. It should be our choice, it shouldn’t be a rush like this."

"We’ll just tell them no then." He shrugs casually.

Astrid worries her bottom lip with her teeth, pausing for a moment to think. "Though... it would be a shame to waste the opportunity, since we’ve wanted to for so long..." Bren smiles affectionately and puts an arm around her waist to hold her closer as they descend the stairs. "I’ll think about it..." She says finally when they reach the bottom.

"There’s no pressure Schatz. Not from me and not from them. This decision is all yours."

"That’s not as comforting as you think it is..." she mumbles with a sigh.

Concentrating in class is a challenge after that, and Astrid finds her thoughts drifting more than once. She barely takes in anything in History, snapping harshly back to reality when Professor Irellin, foot tapping and arms crossed in irritation, has to repeat a question regarding the early days of the monarchy. She stutters an answer that seems to satisfy the scowling professor, but only because her Father's strong sense of Zemnian pride had him reading his dull tomes on the history of the Empire to her at bedtime as a child, much to her despair at the time. She silently thanks him now, however.

After History, she and Wulf have to make a dash across campus to get to Illusion class on time, which thankfully leaves little time to talk on the way. From his smirk though, she can gather Mura told him all about their little conversation in the dorm earlier, and she feels her cheeks heating all over again.

Even sitting next to him she manages to ignore him for most of the class, though he periodically tries to get her attention by nudging her arm. She knows she’s being silly sulking with him, he doesn’t really deserve the silent treatment, but giving in now would be admitting it and that would dent her pride. So she turns away from him as best she can and gives her full attention to Professor De'Lune, Wulf finally giving up with a frustrated growl.

When the class ends, they gather up their things in silence, the pair making it all the way to the door and the corridor outside before Wulf finally cracks.

"When are you finally going to give in and talk to me again? This is ridiculous Astrid."

"It’s been barely a few hours." She snorts, still not looking at him as they continue on towards the brass bound double doors at the end of the corridor.

"It’s been three and a half. Why are you even angry?" His tone is close to whining and she decides he’s suffered enough.

"I’m not angry." She sighs, glancing up at him. "I just wish you hadn’t told Mura about mine and Bren's situation. I wish Bren hadn’t told you either I suppose..."

He frowns in confusion. "You mean, that the two of you haven’t had sex yet?"

"Shh!" She hisses, looking around to make sure no one is close enough to overhear. Luckily, the rest of their classmates have gone in the opposite direction towards the common room where most of them congregate for the free period after this class. "Yes, that. I’d rather it wasn’t broadcast all over the place. It’s private."

He looks at her as if she’s grown a second head. "Astrid, we're at boarding school. There’s no such thing as private. Everyone already knows about you and Bren."

She misses a step and almost trips, stopping to look up at him wide eyed and feeling a new flush hit her cheeks. "What? How!?"

He shrugs stopping alongside her. "The same way they know everything. Gossip. You can't keep anything quiet around here for long, how do you not know that already?"

"Great." She sulks, setting off again in a huff. She throws open the large oak doors, letting them swing back against the wrought iron stops on either side with a ringing crash. Stalking through, she huddles down into her coat, holding her cloak closed against the cold autumn wind that whips around them. Wulf hangs back to close the doors before catching up. "So everyone probably thinks I’m frigid as well as some loser from nowhere."

"No one thinks that." He answers just a little too quickly. She makes a disbelieving noise in her throat, looking up at him with a scowl. "Ok," he grimaces, "I have heard a few people saying that... But who cares what they think? Like you said, it’s between you and Bren."

"Because it’s more pressure! It was bad enough feeling like we should because I know he’s been ready for a while, and then knowing you knew, and Mura too, and you’d planned this bloody alone time for us!" She rants, throwing her hands up in the air. A gust of wind seizes her cloak, sending it billowing out behind her. She snatches it back with an irritated grunt. "But now it turns out the whole school is expecting me to do it as well!"

"Astrid... stop." Wulf hastens his step to get in front of her, placing his hands on the tops of her arms to stop her. "Just breathe... There is no pressure. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. And I promise, me, and Mura, and certainly Bren, don’t want to make you do anything you’re not ready for. I’m sorry you felt as though we were pushing you into something, I’ll tell Mura the plan's off and we’ll forget all about it."

Astrid bites her lip and frowns, looking down at the path in consideration. “I mean... it would be a shame to waste the opportunity, since we’ve been waiting for it for so long...”

Wulf rolls his eyes exasperatedly. "Girls..."

She glares up at him, about to let him have it with both barrels, when she notices someone watching them further up the path. "Wulf, that’s Zivan Margolin."

The Headmaster, posture rigid and hands neatly folded behind his back, simply continues to look at them as a startled Wulf turns around to stare. He seems not to care that they’ve noticed him. Astrid swallows, the goosebumps forming on her skin having little to do with the cool breeze that picks up momentarily, swirling withered fallen leaves around her feet. His eyes are so hard and cold, even at this distance it feels as though they’re boring into her.

A few agonisingly long seconds pass, and just as she’s wondering if he’s waiting for some sort of response from them, he simply gives them both a deep nod, and walks away along an adjoining path. His long dark cloak barely seems to stir despite the wind, only adding to the strangeness of the encounter. Astrid gives herself a shake and takes a breath, watching him stride away until he disappears from view around the corner of the library building.

"That was weird." Wulf mutters beside her, looking just as rattled as she feels.

"Ja." Astrid takes his arm and the pair start walking again. "Did Bren tell you he spoke to him last week?"

"He did. I’m glad he gave us the silent treatment, that was creepy enough without having to talk to him too."

Astrid nods, frowning as they pass the path they watched the Headmaster walk down. "It was wasn’t it. Such cold eyes..." she gives herself another shake, quickening her step. "We’d better hurry, we haven’t got long till lunch and if we’re not back by then Bren's going to know what we’ve been up to."

Wulf snorts amusedly. "He’s going to know anyway Astrid. We’re hardly going to forget his birthday are we."

"I know that, but still. It’s the principle. Just because he’s expecting us to do something for him doesn’t mean we should be obvious about it." Wulf just shrugs, plainly missing the point. "Besides, I know what you’re like. It’s a bakery. You’re bound to get distracted while we pick up the cake and end up taking your time choosing a load of pastries."

He looks down at her indignantly, but pointedly doesn’t deny it. She laughs, bumping her shoulder against his arm playfully as they head towards the South Gate, their encounter with the Headmaster all but forgotten already.

 

***************************

With a free half hour study period at the end of the next day, Astrid just has time to collect the cake and gifts stashed in her dorm and sneak them into the library ready for the boys to arrive. Weaving her way through the floor-to-ceiling shelves stacked full of books, she makes it to their usual quiet little corner without being seen by the few library attendants, the cosy little nook beside the medical texts tucked well out of the way of the main walkways and about as secluded as it’s possible to get in the vast rabbit warren of aisles.

She doesn’t have to wait long before the boys appear from behind a nearby shelf stack, coming to sit with her on the floor, using their loosely bundled cloaks as cushions.

"You didn’t have to do all this, I’d have been happy enough just hanging out in the dorm with you both." Bren smiles shyly.

Wulf leans over to ruffle his hair. "Don’t be a dork, of course we were going to make a fuss. We spend every night in the dorm, birthdays are a perfect excuse for something different." He slips a flask from his pocket, handing it to Bren with a smirk.

"Not more brandy?" He asks warily, taking an experimental swig before Wulf can answer. "Ah. Whiskey. Viel besser. Prost." He grins, taking a much deeper drink and passing the flask to Astrid.

"Where do you get all this alcohol from Wulf?" She asks before drinking and handing him the flask again.

He shrugs, drinking again before putting the flask back into his pocket. "I know people."

"You know people? You mean you screw people. Who was it this time?" Astrid snorts, earning a withering look from Wulf.

"You know those days are behind me, I am a one woman man now." He grins. "Now shut up and get the cake out. Before we all get drunk with our empty stomachs."

Astrid sighs, carefully removing a box from her satchel and opening the lid. "What he means is, happy birthday Bren." The cake is only just big enough for the three of them, with plain white icing and two candles, all she and Wulf could afford with their meagre allowances, but Bren grins at it still as though it’s a cake befitting of the King himself. One of the benefits of growing up in simple surroundings, you learn to appreciate the small things. She hopes they never lose that, no matter how far their learning takes them.

Lounging back against the bookshelves with a slice of cake each, Wulf seems almost to swallow his whole, brushing his hands off on his cloak and reaching into his own satchel. "Here, thought this might come in handy." He says, handing Bren a rectangular parcel roughly wrapped in brown paper and string.

"You really didn’t have to get me a gift. You got me a cake."  Bren tuts as he takes the present. Astrid takes her own gift from her satchel, a much more neatly wrapped package in green and white paper and green string. He gives her an admonishing look which turns into a beaming smile. "I don’t deserve either of you."

"Shut up and open them." Wulf laughs. "You might hate them."

"Never." Bren answers distractedly, untying the string on Wulf's present first. Out of the mess of creased paper tumbles a leather bound book, the front, back and spine all blank.

"It’s for your spells. Figured since you’re such a book worm, you’d like that better than just noting them down on loose pieces of paper." Wulf shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant.

Bren picks it up and flicks through a few pages, then looks up to grin at Wulf. "It’s wonderful, thank you." Turning his attention to Astrid's gift, she tries not to fret that he won’t like it. He takes care not to rip the paper, his dexterous fingers untying the precise knots in the string with ease. Holding up the cobalt blue scarf he finds inside, he examines it with a smile. "Did you make this Astrid?"

"Yes." She answers timidly, grimacing. "Over the summer break. My mother helped, though admittedly only because she thought it was for Wulf. It’s not very good, I’m a clumsy knitter, but it was the best I could do."

"It’s perfect, I love it. I’ll wear it all the time., it’ll remind me of you." She does blush then, sticking her tongue out at Wulf when he whistles mockingly.

"What did your parents send you?" She asks.

"Writing supplies mostly, they know I’m always running out. Some new pairs of socks, a big chunk of Stollen, a jar of raspberry jam. Mother wrote me a long, long letter which boiled down to her being proud of me and that I’ll always be her little boy no matter how old I get." He grimaces. "Father said she’s been struggling a bit with me being away from home. Empty nest syndrome he called it."

"You’ll go back home for the winter break, and they’ll sit you down to tell you there’s going to be a new little Ermendrud. You mark my words." Wulf grins. Bren wrinkles his nose up in disgust as Astrid nearly chokes on the last mouthful of her cake, trying in vane not to laugh.

"Wulf! They don’t... they don’t do that anymore, they’re old!" Bren stutters.

"Old? They’re in their mid thirties Bren..." Astrid laughs.

"Exactly! Old!"

"Oh Bren... Bren, Bren, Bren..." Wulf tuts mockingly, grin splitting his face. "Put yourself in their shoes. Small house, thin walls, kid in the next room. And then suddenly, he’s gone. They can be as loud as they want. They don’t even have to keep it in the bedroom now that they don’t have to worry about you walking in on them! They could do it in the sitting room, the kitchen... on the stairs..."

"The stairs!" Astrid snorts giggling. "How?"

"Enough! Wulf stop, no!" Bren's laughing too now despite his disgust, waving a hand at the bigger boy, imploring him not to say anything more. "Why don’t you put your talent for telling horror stories to good use, instead of using it to torment me."

Wulf leans back against the shelves again, frowning in thought. "I think I can manage that. Though, this is sort of a true story. Probably. Maybe... ok probably not, but the guys I overheard talking about it the other day seemed to believe it."

"Ok, I’m just going to say this now, it’s definitely not true." Astrid laughs. Wulf pulls a face at her.

"It could be." He says defensively. "I mean, yes it sounds like scheiße but it’s spooky scheiße which is what Bren wants so shut up." She leans back against the book shelves, smirking as she mimes zipping her lips closed.

"This had better be good Wulf, my whole birthday is riding on the quality of this scheiße spooky story." Bren grins.

"No pressure... Alright, so. They were talking about some kids who went missing a few years back, so of course, that got my attention."

"Missing from the Academy?" Astrid asks with a frown.

Wulf raises an eyebrow, repeating her mimed lip zipping. "Yes from the Academy, obviously..."

"How can that be true? Surely we’d all have heard about it?" Bren interjects.

"Yes, that’s what makes it so weird. But I’ll get to that part." Wulf sighs exasperatedly. "The story goes that they began to change, they got all moody and started going missing for days at a time, no one knew where they went and they’d never tell a soul. In fact, in the end, they stopped talking to anyone at all. They just used to wander the halls, appearing out of nowhere, and vanishing again, without explanation."

"Really..." Astrid rolls her eyes. “That’s not scary Wulf.”

"Shh." Wulf hisses gently as he boops her nose. She stares at him indignantly. "Anyway, a whole term went by and they went away for break. Then when they came back, it was like they were fine again. I mean, not fine, but better." He shrugs.

".....Worst horror story ever." Astrid mock yawns. Wulf glares before suddenly grabbing his cloak and dumping it over her head. "Wulf!" She cries, her voice muffled by the heavy burgundy wool.

"They say that’s when it all happened. Out of nowhere, one of the kids just plucked out his own eyes!" As Astrid wrestles the cloak from her head, hair hopelessly disheveled, she’s just in time to see Wulf pretending to yank his own eyeballs out, miming blood gushing everywhere. Bren breaks down in laughter.

"Bullshit Wulf..." she grumbles, tossing the cloak at him, though she can’t quite hide an amused smile at his antics.

"And then one of the other kids bashed his own head in against a wall!" He says enthusiastically, catching the cloak without batting an eyelid, turning to act out bashing his head against the book case behind him. "Blood and brains everywhere! They said that’s why the second level corridor in east block is painted red when all the others are that gross beige colour, because they couldn’t remove the blood stains completely."

"There are at least three corridors painted red in the Academy Wulf, were they all the site of some horrible brain bashing?" Astrid asks with a smug grin.

This time he thrusts his hand towards her face, covering her mouth without even looking at her. She squeaks in shock, glaring at him and crossing her arms, but not moving away. Bren snorts at their antics, shaking his head.

"And another kid, well he’s said to have taken a knife from the canteen and ripped open his own chest, then pulled out his heart and started to eat it! In front of everyone at lunch one day!" Again Wulf mimes the whole thing, taking an exaggerated bite and chew of the imagined heart in his free fist. Astrid rolls her eyes and licks his palm. He pulls his hand away with a grimace, wiping it on his shirt. "Gross..."

"You do realise that’s basically just the story of Die Kinder und die Waldhexe, right?" She sighs.

"Uh, Ja sure, just without the Waldhexe, or the forest, or the parents, or pretty much any other aspect of it..." he says mockingly, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, so I did kind of embellish it a little, but that is what happened. Supposedly. And they did say there were definitely some kids that disappeared. It was all just hushed up. No one ever talks about it now. Weird huh?"

"So these guys you heard talking about it, how did they know about it then, if no one ever talks about it?" Bren asks casually.

"....Has anyone ever told you two you’re really annoying." Wulf huffs. Bren and Astrid burst into laughter, Wulf breaking into a chuckle after a moment.

"What do you think you’re doing in here!?" A screeching voice suddenly shouts. The three of them jump, letting out a chorus of shrieks in unison. An angry looking halfling woman rounds one of the bookshelves, foot tapping impatiently, glaring at them crossly. "This is a library, not a place for social gatherings!"

Quickly scooping up their things and trying not to laugh, they vacate the library as fast as they can. The halfling librarian escorts them out into the wide corridor in a foul temper, slamming the door behind them as they leave.

"Well that wasn’t very quiet of her." Bren grins, making Wulf and Astrid laugh, then hastily shushing each other while still chuckling.

"Did you have a good birthday Bren?" Astrid asks as they head out of the large double doors into the cold early evening breeze, arm in arm.

"The best." He answers with a lopsided smile. "Thank you. And your story was great Wulf. Complete rubbish, but great nonetheless."

"It was not rubbish, it’s true! Maybe..." Wulf chuckles, his brief pretence at being offended slipping almost immediately.

"Then we’ll just have to steer clear of Waldhexe's and weird kids." Astrid nods to herself.

Bren and Wulf look at each other and shrug. "Sound advice Schatz." Bren says, kissing the top of her head. "Oh, one thing though Wulf..."

"What?"

Barely waiting for an answer, Bren grabs the back of Wulf's cloak and throws it up over the other boys head, running away as fast as he can.

"Scheiße!" Wulf's yells are muffled by the cloak, until he manages to claw it from his head and shove it back down. Upon seeing Bren running, he laughs and gives chase, leaving Astrid behind in fits of giggles. "You know I’ll catch you Bren! You’re as slow as my grandmother!  I’m going to put spiders in your bed kleine sheiße!"

Notes:

So, pre warning, as you can imagine, there will be some smut next chapter. Only the same sort of level as been seen in other chapters, nothing very graphic, but if it’s not your thing you may want to skip next chapter!

Thanks for reading, the kudos and all the comments are a joy to read so thank you! And thank you for sticking with this if anyone still is!!!

Chapter 23: A New Chapter

Notes:

This chapter has been partially written in my head for a very long time. Feels good to finally get it out. NaNoWriMo is keeping me extra busy with this and other fics, so here’s hoping another update isn’t too far off.

This chapter has some smut, any other potential warnings are covered in the fic tags.

Thanks as ever for your kudos and very kind comments. I’m super excited that Caleb's real origin story is coming out next year! I believe it should be available from July, which gives me plenty of time to finish this version before cannon blows it out the water!

"Ok, so," Mura takes a deep breath, ready to relay the plan in minute detail. "I’ll be out with Renna and Merinda all afternoon, so you won’t have to worry about them coming back early. We’re going shopping. I’m going to make sure we visit as many dressmakers as we can find in the Vigil's Circle, then after that I’ll drag them off for refreshments and entertainment in the Court of Colours!" Mura reels off her plans as excitedly and quickly as Astrid expected. She can barely keep up, though in truth her mind isn’t really focussed much on the plan. Crammed into their tiny shared bathroom, whispering to keep the others from hearing, she feels more than a little bit dazed. 

"Right, yes. Shopping and refreshments." She nods, trying to at least pretend she’s keeping up with all this.

"Yes. Meanwhile, Wulfy's going to keep Matron away."

"How?" Astrid asks. This is the one aspect of the plan she hasn’t heard anything of, unlike the shopping trip and Mura's many very detailed suggestions on exactly what she and Bren should do together...

Mura simply grins. "The less you know the better for now. But rest assured, she won’t be bothering you for a while." Astrid is less than convinced. In fact, the secrecy is even less reassuring than if she’d simply not asked at all. 

"Come on Mura!" Renna calls from the other room, sounding impatient.

"On my way!" Mura shouts back. "I'd better get going. Oh, Astrid! It’s going to be wonderful, I’m sure it is! And if it’s not, well that’s ok. Practice makes perfect." Without warning she pulls Astrid into a brief but tight hug. "Good luck!" And with that, she whirls around and rushes out. Astrid stays in the bathroom as the three other girls leave, laughing and chatting loudly as they go.

And then, suddenly, it’s quiet. She leans against the wash basin, listening to the sound of her own breathing for a moment, trying to calm the nervous butterflies that have been roiling in her stomach all morning. Realising she’s trembling slightly, she gives herself a shake and takes a few gulps of cold water straight from the faucet. On legs that feel decidedly unsteady, she goes to sit on her bed to wait for Bren.

His knock at the door startles her when he arrives a few minutes later. She smiles nervously at him as he enters the room, closing the door quietly behind himself. "Hello Schatz." He says, sounding equally apprehensive.

"Hi." Is all the reply she can muster, barely able to look at him and flushing deep red.

He comes to sit beside her on the bed, leaving a good foot of space between them as though he’s afraid of crowding her. She averts her eyes down to her knees. She's certain she can feel him studying her with those eyes of his that seem to take in every detail of his surroundings. "You’re shaking." He says, sounding concerned. Well, he always has been perceptive, she thinks to herself, taking a breath to try and steady her nerves.

"I’m... scared. Are you?"

"Yes." He admits, chuckling awkwardly. 

"You are?" She asks, finally looking up at him. He nods earnestly, a bright pink flush creeping up over his neck. "What about?"

"Not doing a good job, embarrassing myself in front of you. Hurting you..." he winces slightly, looking down at his lap.

"Hurting me?"

"Ja. Wulf said it might... be a little painful for you." 

"Ja. Mura had the same talk with me earlier. It’s ok though. It’s got to happen sooner or later and that’s just a little part of it." She wonders if the brave face she’s putting on looks as convincing as it sounds to her, which is not very in all honesty.

Bren looks back up at her, studying her face intently. "You’re not ready." He says eventually, shaking his head with a sigh. "I should never have let them push you into this."

"Nobody's pushing me into anything Bren." She scoots over to him, taking one of his hands in hers. "And yes, I am scared. But that’s normal, I think. It's ok to be scared because this is a big thing. A new chapter in our lives in a way. This isn’t just about me anyway, how are you feeling? Are you sure you're ready?"

He pauses for a moment, then looks away with a little smile and a shrug, as though embarrassed. "Apart from scared I’m feeling... excited, I guess. I suppose I want to see what all the fuss is about. I've been ready for a while, it’s just… now that it’s actually happening it's a lot of pressure. It feels right though. I want you Schatz."

Astrid gives his hand a squeeze, swallowing hard at the warmth that spreads through her at his last statement. "Wulf and Mura seem to like it quite a lot. It must be pretty good to be worth risking washing up duty with Matron."

Bren laughs nervously, gently taking her other hand and rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. "You’re sure you’re ready? It’s ok if you’re not Astrid. You know I’ll wait for however long you need. I love you."

In answer, she leans up to kiss him. Then, looking him straight in the eye, with trembling fingers she begins to unbutton his shirt. "If you’re ready, I’m ready. Now let’s stop dithering and make the most of our time together."

In the months they’ve been together, they’ve already seen every inch of each other already. They haven’t exactly been shy about exploring each other either, and as she unfastens Bren's trousers, Astrid has a vivid flashback to being on her knees for him on a summer night in a birch copse. The confidence she felt at the time as she pleasured him is certainly missing now.

Undressing is a tentative affair for both of them. Barely looking each other in the eye, blushes a fixed feature on their cheeks, fumbling fingers making a mess of buttons and catches causing frequent bouts of nervous laughter. But eventually, clothes laying abandoned on the floor around Astrid's bed, they climb under the covers together.

"I feel like that might be the most difficult bit done." Bren says as he nuzzles against her neck, pulling her close.

Astrid giggles nervously. "We can only hope."

Bren lifts his head to look at her, and suddenly they’re back to avoiding each other’s eyes and blushing. "You can still back out if you want to." He says quietly. "I mean it Astrid."

Smiling, she finds the courage to look him in the eyes, raising a hand to stroke his cheek. "I know you do. And that’s just one of the reasons I want this. I trust you Bren."

"And I trust you." He turns his head to kiss her palm, chuckling nervously. "All those times I’ve wanted to be here with you like this and now I am and I don’t know what to do." She raises an eyebrow at him quizzically. "I mean... I know what to do! Obviously I understand the mechanics..." his blush is almost the same shade as his hair. Astrid giggles, leaning up to kiss him. He sighs against her lips, closing his eyes and nuzzling her nose. "I just don’t know how to get from here to there smoothly. All those times before seemed so natural. This is..."

"Awkward?" Astrid offers, seeing him struggle for words.

"Exactly."

"Well, I have a suggestion." She says, threading her fingers into his hair. "We do what we were doing when it felt natural, and we take it from there." She pulls him down for a searing kiss, her confidence growing from his uncertainty. He moans into her mouth, and finally seems to start to relax.

They get lost in kisses and touches, revelling in finally being alone together in a bed. After months of only partial nudity and fumbling under clothes, the skin on skin contact is intoxicating. Despite all their nerves and the awkward start, in the end Astrid is surprised by just how easily it all falls into place. Just a quick roll of his hips and all the worrying feels as though it was over nothing. It just feels right.

He grips her hand tight as she grimaces after a few short thrusts, pausing in his movements. She can see how much effort it takes, with his breath coming in quick short pants and pupils blown wide despite the concern on his face. She kisses him languidly, glad that she managed to hold back the whimper that threatened at the sudden sharp pain Mura had warned she might feel. Sharp, but fading already.

"I’m ok, I promise. Keep going." She whispers against his lips. He watches her intently as he complies, eyes full of worry and moving slower than before. With the pain soon all but gone and Bren still treating her as though she’s made of glass, she crosses her ankles behind his hips, pressing them forward to urge him on. He laughs breathlessly at her impatience, gradually increasing his pace. The pain becomes little more than a dull ache, present but easy to ignore, especially with the other sensations she feels, including a slowly building pleasure that takes her by surprise. After what Mura had told her about first times, she hadn’t been expecting that.

It doesn’t take long before Bren's moans reach a pitch Astrid has heard enough times before, his rhythm faltering. She digs her fingernails lightly into his shoulders and undulates her hips in time with his, sending him over the edge with a guttural groan.

They lay together in silence for a while after in a tangle of limbs, Astrid stroking the back of one of his calves with her toes, Bren tracing arcane symbols over her side.

"No wonder Wulf and Mura are at it every spare minute they have." Astrid says eventually, stretching out her aching muscles. "Sex is really quite good isn’t it."

"You enjoyed it then?" He asks, uncertainly. "Only you didn’t... you know."

"Hated every moment." She grins cheekily. "You don’t have to climax to enjoy it Bren. There'll be plenty of time for that. We’re about to get a lot less studying done in our Folsen morning study period, that’s for sure. Just as long as we can find some privacy again that is."

He grins lopsidedly, leaning in to kiss her softly. "I love you Astrid Becke. You're amazing."

"I love you too Bren Ermendrud." She rubs her nose against his, finding his lips again for a slow kiss.

After a time, they finally decide to get up and dress, concerned they may be pushing the limits of their alone time. Astrid, feeling bold, doesn’t even attempt to cover herself as she gets out of the bed and begins to collect up their scattered items of clothing from the floor.

"Scheiße! Astrid..." Bren exclaims suddenly. She turns, frowning at him in concern.

"What is it? What’s wrong?"

He gestures to the sheets, peering down at something worriedly. "You’re hurt?"

Coming over to him, she deposits the pile of clothing in her arms onto the bed, sitting beside him. She flushes bright red when she sees what he’s looking at, a few tiny drops of crimson staining the white sheet where they’d been laying. "Oh.. no, Bren it’s alright. Mura said that could happen sometimes. It’s just where... the pain I felt..."

He looks at her with such sorrow it makes her heart clench. "I’m sorry."

She smiles at him, trying to lighten the mood and reassure him. "It wasn’t you, not really. You didn’t do anything wrong Bren, it’s just what happens. Everything’s alright, honest." She hopes Mura was right about that at least, it is slightly unnerving to see the blood, even just a tiny amount. She wishes suddenly that she could even have entertained the idea of talking to her mother about this sort of stuff, rather than just relying on a friend.

Bren looks unconvinced but lets it go, separating out his clothes from the pile of garments next to them and shrugging into his shirt. Astrid suppresses a sigh at their time together seeming so short, and begins to dress herself too. She’s just doing up the buttons on her blouse when there’s a rap at the door. The unmistakable sharp three beat knock of Matron.

Astrid stares at Bren, who stares right back, the two stilling their hands on buttons and fasteners in sudden dread. Outside they hear giggling. "Only kidding, it’s just me!" Mura's muffled voice calls from the other side of the door. Astrid sighs exasperatedly, rising to open it for her.

"Mura! You nearly killed us both. Where are Renna and Merinda?"

"They’ll be back soon. I couldn’t keep them occupied any longer, they were starting to get a little intense with the eye rolls. They stopped off at a bakery, so I made my excuses and came to warn you." She rolls her own eyes exasperatedly. Astrid continues to do up her blouse buttons as the other girl talks. "So... how was it?" Mura grins.

Astrid laughs. "No."

"Wait, no Astrid come on, you have to tell me!" Mura pouts. Behind her she hears Bren snort a laugh. "How about just nod once if it was good, twice if it was bad." Astrid shakes her head with a grin and closes the door. "Astrid come on!" She hears, Mura's pleading voice muffled again. "Fine, but I’m going to get it out of you some time! I need details!"

"She is something else." Bren says as Mura's footsteps retreat down the hallway, coming to kiss her on the cheek before sitting again to put his socks on.

Astrid digs a stocking out of the rapidly diminishing pile of clothes and sits next to him to put it on. "Ja, but I kind of like her. And you know, we never would have been able to do this without her." Bren looks at her with a grin, leaning in to kiss her again.

A short while later, fully dressed and feeling on top of the world, the pair leave the dorm and make their way towards the dining hall. "Do you know what Wulf was doing to distract Matron?" Astrid asks.

"Not a clue. He wouldn’t tell me." Bren frowns. "Hopefully not something too awful."

She laughs. "No doubt he’ll tell us all the grizzly details as soon as he needs a favour in return."

"I can’t wait..." he answers dryly.

************

A few days later, the three of them are in Arcane Theory class when a first year student with a note knocks timidly on the open door.

"Come in." Professor Ghenjei says in a deep monotone, not looking up from the stack of papers he's been marking on his desk while the class works on a set of equations. Astrid barely notices as the nervous student makes their way to the desk and hands him the note before making a hasty retreat.

"You three," he says with a sigh, "Eadwulf, Astrid, Bren. You’ve been summoned to the Head of Year. You’re to pack up your things and go to Professor Bashere's office immediately." They share startled looks, a few of the other students laughing and making mocking "ooh" noises. Quickly gathering their belongings into their satchels, they make their way out as Professor Ghenjei scolds the rest of the class. "Quiet down and get back to work or you’ll all be joining them…"

"What are we supposed to have done this time?" Bren asks when they’re in the corridor, looking pointedly at Wulf.

"Don’t look at me!" He says, holding his hands up in defence. "I’m innocent for once."

Bren looks unconvinced. "Well there must be some reason she wants to see us, and you don’t get called out of class to see the Head of Year for anything good. Has this got to do with you distracting Matron the other day?"

Wulf narrows his eyes in thought. "No." He says eventually. "No, I don’t think so. If they knew about that, we’d be seeing the headmaster." He manages to keep a straight face while they turn to him wide eyed, before finally cracking with a deep laugh. "I love letting you two stew. You’re so easy to wind up." Astrid and Bren roll their eyes at him, the three of them walking the rest of the short distance through the corridors in silence.

When they reach the ominous oak panelled door of Bashere's office, they find it open, the Professor standing inside with her arms crossed waiting for them. "Ah, you three. Come in, come in." She doesn’t seem angry as she ushers them in, but then Astrid can’t take much comfort in that. Sometimes that’s worse... she thinks to herself, swallowing hard.

Wracking her brain, she cant think what the three of them could have done to warrant this visit. She’s convinced this must be the result of one of the other students, perhaps Renna or Merinda, telling tales to get them into trouble. She prepares as much of a defence as possible without knowing the charge, ready to deny whatever accusation is thrown their way. This wouldn’t exactly be the first time something like that has happened.

"I’m sure you must be wondering what this is about." Professor Bashere smiles at them. "There’s no need to be nervous. You’ve all been doing very well by all accounts. That is why I am to take you to Archmage Trent Ikithon. He would like to ask you something." She marches past them to the door, holding it open and seeming quite eager.

The three of them exchange looks, the meeting certainly not going as they had expected. Once they’re in the corridor again, Bren takes Astrid's hand, stroking his thumb over her knuckles supportively.

"Professor," he says as she leads them down the hall at a brisk walk. "Can I ask what it is Archmage Ikithon wants to see us about?"

"An opportunity." She replies, turning back to glance at them with a beaming smile. "That’s all he’d say on the matter and I didn’t press him. When an Archmage asks to see three students he’s impressed with, one doesn’t tend to ask too many questions."

Astrid looks at the two boys in shock, mouth gaping.

"Impressed with us?" Wulf asks. "What did we do?"

Professor Bashere laughs lightly, seeming amused. "You do know how good your test scores were? It’s true, you’ve had your fair share of run ins with authority over the past year and a half, but that just shows spirit in my book." She waves a hand dismissively, turning sharply down a side corridor. Astrid almost has to jog to keep up with the long-limbed woman. "Not that I’m condoning your escapades of course. But in terms of academic work, you apply yourselves well. And it hasn’t gone unnoticed how well you conduct yourselves in the face of incessant harassment by other students. For the most part anyway."

"You know about that?" Bren asks, surprised.

"Of course. Not a lot escapes my notice Master Bren. Your previous head of year may have been happy to turn a blind eye, but I do things differently. Rest assured I am aware, and I'll intervene where appropriate. But your simple upbringing will always be with you and, unfortunately, to many of the other students it counts against you. Better you learn to deal with it now than when you’re older and your critics are more harsh. Ah, this way." She makes another quick turn, heading into a wide, well decorated hallway lit with gold plated stand lamps, the walls hung with rich tapestries and portraits. As they come to a stop outside a large, imposing white lacquered door at the furthest end of the hallway, Professor Bashere knocks twice, making a sharp rapping sound with her knuckles.

The door opens a fraction seemingly on its own. Professor Bashere turns to them with a broad smile. "Well, good luck." She says eagerly, before hastily departing without a second glance.

The three of them stand before the door, looking at each other nervously.

"Do we go in or do we wait to be called?"Astrid whispers.

"I don’t know." Wulf answers, looking worried and keeping his voice low. "What if it’s a trick and he’ll get really cross if we just barge in?"

"Why would he do that?" Astrid scoffs quietly.

"I don’t know, maybe he has nothing better to do?" Wulf shrugs, not looking convinced.

Bren sighs, takes a breath, and pushes the door open.

The room is larger than Astrid had anticipated, a long, wide study lined on three of its double height walls with book shelves, a wide stone fireplace to one side, gleaming black and white floor tiles covered with a huge red, green and black maze patterned rug. The walls are made of dressed stone, unadorned save for the massive book shelves. A large dark wood carved desk sits at one end of the room, and behind it, sitting in a green leather studded chair, his deep purple and gold robes immaculate, is Archmage Trent Ikithon. 

"Come, sit." He smiles unsettlingly, gesturing to three sturdy looking chairs spread out in a line opposite the desk. They cross the floor quickly, not wanting to keep him waiting. As soon as they’re seated he continues, peering at them with a look in his eyes that Astrid can’t quite place. "The three of you have demonstrated that you have quite a talent for the arcane. It won’t surprise you that, in my time working closely with the Soltryce Academy, I have seen many a talented student. Some even more capable than you. However, the vast majority of them lacked something. Something that can’t be taught."

He rises from his chair, coming around the desk to perch on the side facing them, hands clasped at his waist. "You three are special. Unique perhaps. There is something undefinable about you which makes you stand out. That is something I have been able to say about very few students. Very few people in general, in fact. I have been watching your journey through the Academy quite closely, and it is my firm belief that you are destined for great things." Astrid is sure his eyes linger on Bren for a long moment before sweeping over all three of them again. "Yours is a talent that must be nurtured carefully in order to bring it to its greatest potential. To squander it would be a heinous crime. So. I have a proposal for you."

"A proposal, Archmage?" Bren says, his throat sounding as dry as Astrid's feels.

Archmage Ikithon smiles again, a thin lipped smile with no warmth to it. Why would that matter? Astrid silently chastises herself, concentrating on what’s being said. "An opportunity. I would like to offer you the chance to study directly under me. With my personal tutelage, your training at the Academy could be accelerated and your current potential surpassed. It would mean taking extra classes, your schedule would be more intense, but I have absolutely no concerns that you would struggle with that, having seen your achievements so far."

Astrid is speechless, and glancing at Bren and Wulf, they seem to be too.

"I see I have surprised you." Archmage Ikithon nods to himself, standing to make his way back around to the other side of the desk to sit in his chair again. "But of course, you never could have imagined such an opportunity would present itself to you. You are humble people, it is an asset to lack arrogance. But do not make the mistake of also lacking confidence in your abilities. As I said, you are quite special."

Standing, he gestures for them to stand too, which they do immediately, and begins to lead them towards the door. "You'll need time to consider my proposal, of course. Only fools leap into the unknown without first considering carefully, and you are far from foolish. You may have a week."

"Thank you Archmage Ikithon." They say in discordant unison, walking out into the corridor in a daze as the heavy door closes behind them.

They begin to make their way back down the corridor, seeming unable to speak for a while. The bell signalling the end of the academic day sounds through the maze of tile floored corridors around them. Astrid thinks that’s probably a good thing, since she can barely focus on putting one foot in front of the other at the moment, let alone class.

"Well," Bren says eventually. "That was quite something." Astrid and Eadwulf nod, frowning. "What do you think we should do?"

"I know he says we can handle it, but more work?" Wulf says, grimly. "I don’t know."

"He seems to think we're capable." Bren reasons, shrugging.

Astrid bites her lip. Can they really afford to turn down such an incredible opportunity? What might it mean for their lives? "I think we should accept."

"So do I." Bren smiles at her. Wulf still looks unconvinced. "Come on Wulf, what’s there to think about? If it’s too much, I’m sure you could just give it up, he’s hardly going to force you to continue with extra tutelage if it’s not right for you is he?"

Wulf nods thoughtfully, seeming to brighten at that. "That’s true. I still need some time. You heard him, he wants us to consider it carefully, not jump in. We have a week, we should use it."

"Good point. Let’s let it sink in first, then we can decide properly." Astrid smiles up at them. 

Bren beams are her. "He had such good things to say about us. It’s nice to hear something positive for a change, but from a Cerberus Assembly Archmage? He’s one of the most powerful people in the Empire, and we’re just three kids from nowhere. He shouldn’t even know our names."

Astrid feels her pride swell a little. It really is amazing. "Let’s go to the library. I think we could all do with some space away from everyone else to really think this through."

"What do you think they’ll do when they find out?" Wulf asks, grinning.

Bren smirks. "Be extremely jealous I should think. Who knows, perhaps they’ll finally start giving us some respect."

Astrid isn’t so sure about that, but as she takes Bren's hand and they begin the long climb up the stairs to their usual spot in the library, she starts to wonder if maybe things are about to get a whole lot better for the three of them.

Chapter 24: The First Snow

Notes:

Thank you NaNo for making me write this so quick. I’ve got part of ch 25 ready to go too. Going to try to get these out a bit faster now, because I’ve been writing this for a year now and that’s ridiculous!

Astrid sighs contentedly, arching to stretch out her back. Bren yawns, loosening his arms around her to accommodate her movement, before tightening them to pull her close again when she’s done. She enjoys these relaxed weekend mornings at the best of times, but with a pristine layer of snow on the rooftops of Rexxentrum, and a bitter wind blowing in from the north rattling the panes of glass in the windows, she’s even more pleased than usual to be under the covers with him. The building housing the Academy dorms boasts thick stone walls, but without individual fireplaces in each room, they aren’t exactly warm at this time of year, especially in the mornings.

It’s been two days since their meeting with Master Ikithon, and Astrid is certain that her mind is made up. Whatever the boys decide, she plans to go to Archmage Ikithon's office at the earliest opportunity on Miresen to accept his offer. She's fairly certain Bren will be doing the same, but Wulf still seems unsure.

She turns her head to look over at him, his bed just the other side of the short gap beside Bren's. His head is nearly obscured by the thick quilt pulled up past his ears, but she can see enough of him to know that he’s still sleeping. That and his soft, muffled snores.

Bren is only dozing. She nuzzles his chest, kissing him through his night shirt, and he responds with a kiss to the top of her head. "I could stay here all day." She whispers, snuggling down further under the invitingly warm covers.

"That’s not like you." He chuckles sleepily. "Usually you can’t wait to drag Wulf and I out of bed and get outside."

"Are you complaining?" She looks up at him, cocking an eyebrow.

He snorts. "No. It must only be about thirty degrees out there."

She shakes her head amusedly. "Blumenthal kids practically live outdoors all year round. A year at this fancy school and you’ve become soft Bren Ermendrud."

"I beg to differ..." he smirks, pressing his morning erection against her leg. She rolls her eyes, giving him a withering look.

"You know exactly what I meant. It’s made you soft and more randy than Wulf. That’s quite an impressive combination."

"No one is more randy than Wulf." They look up just as Eadwulf throws himself from his own bed onto Bren’s, landing half on top of the pair of them. Astrid giggles as he grabs them up in a bone crushing hug through the quilt and pretends to hump them. "You two are so small." He says, poking at Bren's chest. Bren struggles to sit up, Wulf finally moving off to perch on the edge of the bed beside Astrid.

"I thought you were asleep?" She asks, stretching out again after being squashed.

"I was, until you two started talking." He yawns, not even trying to cover his mouth.

Bren flexes his shoulder, the joints clicking with a startlingly loud pop. "And humping us like a dog on heat is fair game?" He asks, the hint of a grin betraying his amusement.

"Be flattered, I don’t hump just anyone you know." He winks.

Astrid and Bren scoff in unison. "You absolutely do." She laughs. He shrugs, grinning. There’s a loud rustling of sheets and a huff as one of the other two boys resident in the dorm pointedly rolls over with a pillow clasped to his head.

"Sorry Matin." Bren whispers loudly in apology. Matin grunts in acknowledgement, Cristin, the boy in the other bed, appearing to be asleep still.

"Let’s leave them to their lie in." Astrid extricates herself from the sheets, climbing over Wulf to stand on the cold floorboards and put on her slippers. She quickly shrugs into the woefully thin cotton robe she abandoned at the bottom of the bed when she got in, hugging her arms around herself against the uncomfortable chill of the room.

"And go where?" Bren asks with a near pout. "I thought you wanted to stay here with me for the whole day."

Raising an eyebrow at him, she hands him his own robe. "First off, you know we couldn’t actually do that, since Matron will be doing her rounds in another hour or so. I’d rather not waste my time stuck doing a weeks worth of washing up again. Second, it’s the first snowfall of the winter. You remember what happens the day of the first snowfall of the winter here?"

"Snow war." Wulf grins eagerly. "You two are going down."

Bren sighs, flopping back down into the bed. Astrid raises an eyebrow, throwing the robe over his head. "What if I don’t want a snow war?" He says, voice muffled beneath the robe.

"You don’t get to choose the snow war my friend, the snow war chooses you." Wulf smirks. "Don’t be such a loser, how many old traditions in this place are actually fun? Every student will be out in the grounds smashing each other in the face with balls of snow and ice, plus the occasional 'accidental' pebble. What’s not to love?"

Astrid sits back down beside him, pulling the robe off Bren's head and revealing his auburn hair adorably mussed. "Come on Bren. It’ll be fun. You know you’ll enjoy it." He scowls up at them both still looking unconvinced. She sighs. "What if I promise to make it worth your while?" She smiles, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

Wulf chuckles suddenly. "Give him a snow blow." Astrid opens her mouth indignantly, smacking him on the arm as he continues to laugh at his own joke, her cheeks colouring. Bren sniggers, finally sitting up again.

"I meant a kiss! How are you two so horny all the time..." She whines, seeing the funny side and laughing along with them both. From the other side of the room comes an exasperated groan. "Ok really, let’s get dressed and leave your poor roommates alone. Meet me outside mine in ten?"

The boys nod, getting up to begin dressing as Astrid hurries out into the cold hallway to go to her own dorm.

************

Only an hour later, a large proportion of the students, many bleary eyed given that it's a Da'leysen morning, are gathered in the wide courtyard in front of the main Academy building. A number of faculty members stand atop the marble steps, behind Headmaster Zivan Margolin. The Headmaster raises his hand, clasping a pristine white lace handkerchief. The large crowd of youngsters in the courtyard falls silent, a number of the teachers also clearly brimming with excitement.

"They really take this scheiße seriously don’t they." Bren mutters, only just loud enough for her and Wulf to hear. "Rich people are weird." Astrid just manages to bite back a laugh.

"Who cares about some dumb tradition." Wulf grins. "I’m in it purely for a free pass to hit people we hate in the face with snow." He rubs his hands together with malicious glee.

"It has long been an Academy tradition to mark the first snowfall of winter with an inter-faculty snowball fight." The Headmaster says, voice booming among the students, clearly magically enhanced. "I remember taking part myself when I was but a boy, watching my father make this same speech on these very steps. This year, the honour falls to me to begin the festivities after his tragic passing a few short months ago. As you all know, Jorma Margolin was a staunch supporter and accomplished Headmaster of this establishment for many years. As he would have said to you all, fight fair, fight safely, and above all, enjoy yourselves."

With that, Headmaster Margolin releases his grip on the handkerchief, and before the lace has even floated down to the floor, a roar goes up among the students and the battle begins. Astrid just manages to duck in time to avoid a snowball Wulf had preprepared without her knowing, but Bren takes a second right in the nose.

"Wulf!" She screeches, half indignant, half laughing at Bren. "Fight fair he said, and what happened to 'people we hate'?"

"It’s me, don’t pretend you’re surprised." He grins, grabbing her in a fireman's lift while Bren is still spluttering, a hefty amount of snow having gone in his mouth.

"Put me down you cheat!" She kicks her legs, hair dangling down over her face obscuring her view. He trudges barely a few steps before depositing her soundly in a snow drift beside a hedge. She gasps as the snow surrounds her, falling into the cuffs of her coat, the tops of her boots and down the back of her neck past her scarf.

Scrambling to her feet, she just manages to right herself in time to see Wulf, doubled over laughing at her, get pelted by a mound of flying snow that seems to stop in midair and drop straight on top of his head. Bren stands grinning at them both.

"Catapult." He says, as Wulf turns to look at him indignantly. "Ah the beauty of magical snow fights."

"You think you’re the only one who picked his spells especially for today Ermendrud?" Wulf shakes the snow off of himself, readying his hands to cast. Astrid beats him to it, summoning Mage Hand to dump a good helping of snow on top of him.

"Now who’s cheating! You can’t gang up on me." He whinges, brushing snow from his hair.

"You started this." She laughs.

"Truce, truce! We should be working together anyway. Has anyone seen Ferdinard? I have a Floating Disk full of snow with his name of it. All you need to do is lure him to the bottom of the steps for me so the disk can move above his head height, and bam!"

Astrid laughs. She can’t fault his ingenuity.

*********

Astrid watches from behind the cover of a laurel hedge as her invisible Unseen Servant dumps a double handful of snow on Renna's head. The girl squeals, wrongly identifying the nearby Merinda as her attacker, and kicking snow up at her friend in a tantrum.

Wulf and Bren chuckle beside her. "I love magic so much." She grins.

There’s a sudden boom off to one side and a shower of snow and dirt surges into the air, covering the three of them. They struggle to their feet shaking off the mess, looking around for what caused it. Ferdinard wanders around the side of the hedge laughing. Bren glares at him, gesturing to the muddy crater barely ten feet away. "What was that? Magic Missile?"

"Not as stupid as you look hick. And you do look very stupid." The young elf sneers. Merinda and Renna stumble around the hedge to stand behind him, glaring. Astrid can’t help but send her Unseen Servant over again to dump more snow on their heads. They inhale sharply at the shock, Renna casting Mage Hand and yanking a handful of Astrid's hair back painfully.

"I don’t care which of you is doing that, whoever it is stop it or we’ll do worse than this to her when she comes back to the dorm tonight." She threatens between gritted teeth.

"We probably will anyway." Merinda shrugs, she and Ferdinard smirking.

Astrid tugs her hair free with a wince. "What’s the point in stopping if you’re going to hurt me anyway." The Unseen Servant scoops up two more handfuls of snow and dumps it on Renna's head. She immediately regrets it, wondering what’s got into her. This is just like that time in the library again, and look how that turned out, I nearly got thrown out of a window. When am I going to learn...

"You three really need to learn some respect." Ferdinard grimaces, stepping forward and readying his hands to cast.

Wulf leaps towards him without warning and tackles him to the ground, stirring up a cloud of powdery snow. Ferdinard grunts as he lands with Wulf's weight on top of him. "Maybe it's you who needs to learn to respect us." He says, grabbing hold of the other boys hands to stop him casting. Renna and Merinda stare at them in shock as Ferdinard thrashes uselessly.

"Get off of me!" He shouts indignantly.

Wulf calmly sits them both up, dragging Ferdinard's arms behind his back and holding his wrists together in one large hand. "Guess who's about to start extra classes under the direct tutelage of Archmage Ikithon?" 

Ferdinard's eyes widen in surprise. "What? Why would he lower himself like that? You’re making it up."

"It’s true." Bren says, crossing his arms. "Apparently he thinks we’re uniquely talented. He says we have bright futures ahead of us and he wants to help us reach our full potential."

"So, Ferdi-fuck. Who knows. Maybe one day we’ll be more powerful than you after all, without needing to fall back on titles and money to do it." Wulf grins at him.

Ferdinard scoffs. "You can dress a pig in velvet, but it’s still just a pig. That’s all you’ll ever be no matter who teaches you. A trio of country pigs pretending to fit in with the rest of us."

Wulf rolls his eyes, slaps his free hand on the back of Ferdinard's head, and shoves his face into the snow. The elf makes a muffled shout, Wulf letting him go and standing up, brushing off his coat. Astrid and Bren chuckle as Ferdinard flails, sitting back up with his face covered in snow and ice. Renna and Merinda don’t seem to know whether to laugh or glare.

That’s what’s changed in her, Astrid realises. Hearing someone so senior recognise her worth. Archmage Ikithon's offer has boosted her confidence, and she hasn’t even accepted yet. "You can keep on treating us like dirt," she says to the two girls, "but just be aware, one day it might come back to bite you."

The three of them walk away after that, only reaching a short distance before Wulf can’t help himself and gathers up fresh handfuls of snow to throw at her and Bren.

"So," she calls, dodging a snowball and throwing one of her own. "Does this mean you’ve decided to take up Archmage Ikithon's offer then Wulf?"

"I think it does." He shouts back, hitting Bren in the head with a lump of snow as he crouches to pick up more.

Astrid laughs, spitting out snow as another snowball hits her right in the mouth and sends her falling onto her back. Still chuckling, she takes a moment to catch her breath as she watches Bren chase the larger boy, throwing his own snow balls in retaliation before Wulf turns and tackles him, the two of them laughing as they try to cover each other in as much snow as possible. By the time Astrid gets up and moves over to them, shoving a handful of snow down the neck of Wulf's coat in retaliation, it’s clear Bren has well and truly lost the battle, barely more than his boots and hair showing through the heap of snow on top of him, which wobbles as he laughs.

When Astrid returns to her dorm that night, she finds her mattress soaked through, Renna and Merinda watching her smugly from their beds on the other side of the room. She sighs. So much for things getting better with them. But as she gathers her still mostly dry quilt and pillow and prepares for an uncomfortable night on the floor, she finds she can’t feel too down about it.

Tomorrow, all three of them will accept Archmage Ikithon's offer, and along with it, the chance at a very bright future.

***************

"So," Master Ikithon smiles as they step into his office the next morning, steepling his long fingers on the desk in front of him. "You have your answer already?"

Bren glances at her and Eadwulf as he steps forward. "We do. We’d be honoured to accept Archmage Ikithon. More than honoured."

The Archmage nods approvingly. "Good, good. I am glad to hear it. I look forward to tutoring such talented students." He stands, walking to one of the bookshelves on the right hand side of the room, tapping a finger against his lips as he selects three books. "Meet me here after lunch on Conthsen for your introductory lesson, I will show you to the classroom we will be using. For now we will be meeting on Conthsen and Folsen afternoons, when you would previously have had free study sessions. Read these before that first session please. They will give you some idea of what I hope to cover in the next few weeks."

He hands the books to Bren, whose eyes widen in surprise when he reads the covers. As he passes one to her and Wulf each, she can see why. "Archmage Ikithon, these are texts used by third year students." Astrid says hesitantly.

"Yes." The Archmage says patiently, folding his arms. "You doubt your abilities still I see. Then let this give you cause to stop doubting. Read the texts, I think you will be pleasantly surprised by how easily you take them in." As he moves to sit behind his desk once more, he adds, "And please, call me Master Ikithon from now on. You’re not just common students any more, you are my students."

"Yes Master Ikithon." They reply together, bowing their heads and exiting the room swiftly.

"He wants us to read three whole books in three days? This is exactly the sort of thing I was worried about." Wulf shakes his head, slipping his book into his satchel.

"Relax." Says Bren, calmly looking through his own book. "You heard him. If he has faith in us, we should have faith too shouldn’t we?"

Wulf snorts. "That’s easy for you to say, you read like a book a day just as a hobby. I can’t sit still for that long."

"Then walk around while you read, or put it on the floor while you do press-ups, treat it like part of your fitness regime." Bren says nonchalantly, apparently already distracted by the pages.

Astrid flips through a few pages of the book she’s still holding. It's not a thick tome at least, but the Arcane equations look more complex than anything they’ve attempted before. She sighs, seeing the test the Archmage has set for them. "All we can do is our best." She says. "And we’re at our best when we work together."

"Group study sessions for the next few days then?" Bren asks with a smile.

Wulf grins. "I’ll get the ale, you get the snacks."

Chapter 25: Race You To The Top

Notes:

It seems every chapter lately is accompanied by an apology, but this is an especially big one. It’s been months! I am here still, but life took over a bit recently, with NaNoWriMo, Christmas, and some home stuff. I also had a bit of writers block, not struggling with what to write exactly, but more with tying it all together. There are so many threads, I needed a plan to weave them all together, and so plan I did. I have the bare bones of the next ten chapters, so I’m hoping that real life permitting, I might be able to update more regularly in the coming months.

By way of an apology for my absence, I’m not even going to attempt to cut the word count of this chapter, despite it being a bit of a monster. Please accept one of my longest chapters yet, complete with title stolen straight from canon, yet more late night sneaking, Soltryce Academy teen gossip, and a generous helping of romance and smut. And Frans the dwarf, if anyone remembers him from chapter 6.

As always thanks for reading, your kudos and comments mean the world and help me keep going!

Astrid massages her temples against the headache she can feel threatening as they leave Master Ikithon's classroom, Bren closing the door quietly behind them. "These classes are halfway between mad and wonderful. My brain hurts."

"Brilliant isn’t it." Bren sighs, grinning.

Wulf frowns in thought, falling into step on the other side of her as they make their way down the spiralling stone tower staircase towards the main teaching rooms, ready to rejoin their peers and begin their Folsen afternoon Arcane Theory class. "And now back to boring reality. I don’t see the point in sitting in a class for the next two hours when we’ve already covered most of this term's module in just a few weeks of lessons with Master Ikithon."

"I thought you’d enjoy being so far ahead of everyone else?" Astrid chuckles. "All you have to do is look as though you’re listening while actually..."

"While actually I’m thinking about what Mura and I did behind the library two nights ago. Thank you Astrid, what an excellent idea." He grins wide at her grimace.

"Yuck. You are so predictable."

"If you didn’t react, I wouldn’t keep making the same joke. It's your own fault."

Bren laughs, shaking his head at them. "You could always take the lesson time to do the essay he just set us."

"You are such a nerd Bren." Wulf sighs. "We have six days to write that essay, what sane person would start it the same day we got it and not on day five? How am I even friends with you?"

Astrid rolls her eyes. "Starting an essay the day before it’s due is so stupid. What if it’s harder than you think? What if there’s an emergency? I doubt Master Ikithon is the type of Professor to take kindly to late work, not when he’s given us such a great opportunity."

"And what’s he getting out of it hm?" Wulf turns to face them, walking backwards a few steps as they reach the empty corridor at the bottom of the stairs. "He’s not doing it out of the kindness of his heart is he. No one does this sort of thing for free. He’s not going to throw us out because we hand something in a little late. Relax Astrid."

"You’re sure about that?" She asks dryly as he turns back around with a smug grin.

"What could he possibly want from us?" Bren asks, obviously sceptical.

Wulf shrugs. "Who knows and who cares as long as we get the advanced tutoring. He’s just like any other professor when it comes down to it. So what if he yells at us, or puts us in detention, or sends us to be caned, it’s nothing we’re not used to."

"He’s a member of the Assembly Wulf..." Bren answers. "He's extremely powerful."

"And? What, you think he’s going to polymorph me into a frog or something?" Wulf snorts in amusement.

"Not just powerful magically you idiot, powerful as in influential." Bren stops, crossing his arms. "One bad word from him could mean we never find work in magic in the entire Empire. Maybe even beyond."

Astrid frowns, stopping alongside Wulf a few steps further on. "You really think that’s a possibility?"

"I’m not saying he would, I'm just saying he could, if he wanted to."

Wulf scoffs, leaning casually against the corridor wall. "You reckon a few late essays is going to ruin my magic career forever. Scheiße Bren, talk about dramatic." He laughs. "You’ve been reading too much. You’re overthinking."

Bren levels a glare at him. "Maybe you’re under-thinking. It wouldn’t be the first time would it."

Wulf scowls, pursing his lips. Astrid looks between the two of them, wondering for a moment if she’ll have break up a fight. The bell indicating the beginning of the next period sounds loudly in the corridor, breaking the tense silence and making Astrid jump. "Fine," Wulf eventually says when it stops, standing up from his slouch. Students begin to filter out of the nearby classrooms, oblivious to the stand off. "Let’s make a wager. You do your essay in your panicking dumb nerd way, and I’ll do mine the day before it’s due. If I’m late, I’ll do your washing for a week. If I’m not late, you'll do mine."

Astrid lets out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding, rolling her eyes and starting off again towards the classroom, muttering under her breath. "Idiots..."

"Deal." She hears Bren agree behind her.

True to form, when an opportunity presents itself during the lesson, Bren pointedly opens his books and begins planning out his essay. Astrid looks between him and Wulf, awkwardly caught between the two of them, eventually deciding with a sigh to go with her gut and work on the essay too.

"Traitor." Wulf whispers beside her.

She rolls her eyes, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. "It’s what I’d planned to do anyway. It makes sense to get it out of the way, then you get to enjoy your free time without stress."

He makes a mocking sound of agreement, checking to make sure Professor Ghenjei is occupied at his desk across the room before hastily scrawling a note and throwing the scrap of paper at Mura's back in the row in front. She turns with a frown, grinning when she sees him. Picking up the paper, she reads for a second, her smile growing sultry as she stuffs the note into her pocket and winks at him.

"What was that?" Astrid asks, not sure she really wants to know.

He shrugs smugly. "Just me organising a completely stress free date for tonight. You two enjoy your nerd time though." She snorts derisively, shaking her head and returning to her essay planning.

That night, she's hastily packing away her writing supplies after a few hours working side by side with Bren when Wulf saunters into their dorm with barely minutes to spare before lights out. His grin is as smug as she’s ever seen, as is the way he falls onto his bed exhaustedly.

"You’ll not be at all surprised to know I had a great evening, thank you for asking." He stretches, purposefully moving his neck at an angle that perfectly shows off a lightly purpling bruise that can only have been caused by teeth. Astrid glances at Bren and they both grimace. "And how was your evening? Boring by the looks of it."

"Productive." Bren replies, flinging a pillow at him.

Wulf catches it easily, tucking it behind his head to Bren's obvious dismay. "Mine too."

"You only went dancing. Mura told me before she left earlier." Astrid says as she finishes her packing up, kissing Bren goodnight far more deeply than she would have had she not been trying to make Wulf uncomfortable. It works, judging by the pillow that impacts her back after just a few seconds. "Goodnight both of you." She says, smiling overly sweetly at their friend on her way to the door.

"Goodnight little nerd." She hears Wulf reply as she closes the door behind her.

***********

Making their way across the courtyard towards the dorm building, Astrid notices the first bright green shoots of daffodils sprouting through the damp earth lining the path, sighing happily at the prospect of winter finally beginning to loose its grip. Growing up in Blumenthal, she’s no stranger to the cold or damp, but it feels so much more oppressive in the city for some reason.

“So apparently," Bren continues with the gossip he’s been relaying since they left their last class, "it was Berra Greeves who told Devin Dendeza that she saw Rosalinda Seagreen kissing Devin's girlfriend..."

"Wait, who is Devin seeing? I thought they were with Berra?" Astrid frowns, stepping quickly to keep up with the boys.

Bren tuts at her with a smile, holding the door open for her and Wulf as they enter the building. "Not for ages, they’ve been seeing Harper Troswell for a few months now."

"Ohhh yes, I remember. Those two got together at the autumn dance didn’t they?"

"That’s right. Well, anyway, Harper found out that it was Berra that ratted on her, and apparently they had a huge fight in the common room today at lunch. Food everywhere. They both had to go and see the Headmaster."

Astrid snorts at the mental image, wishing she’d been there to see it herself. "What happened to them? Surely they wouldn’t get suspended over a food fight?"

"Not for that no." Bren chuckles slightly breathily after talking while climbing the stairs, the trio finally reaching the boy's dorm level. "But for accidentally hitting Professor Denbyar in the face with a handful of pie, maybe." He grins as Astrid gasps, both bursting out laughing.

Wulf huffs irritably, quickening his pace to overtake them and shoving the door to his and Bren's dorm open far harder than necessary as they reach the room. It hits the wall with a resounding smack, almost bouncing back hard enough to hit him on his way through.

Astrid and Bren stop in their tracks and look at each other for a moment before staring after their friend. "What’s got you in a mood?" Bren asks as Wulf throws his satchel down on his bed and begins to change out of his uniform.

"Your incessant gossiping. You’re like two old women on market day." He scowls, kicking off his boots sulkily.

Astrid continues into the room and drops down onto Bren's bed. "You usually love hearing gossip. Especially when there’s a fight."

"I think I know what it is." Bren grins smugly, closing the door behind himself. "Someone has to do a whole essay tonight."

Wulf snorts dismissively. "I’ll be fine. Just you watch."

"I would, but..." Bren holds his hands out to Astrid, helping her up off the bed. "We’ve got plans."

"We do?" She asks, standing.

"We do."

Wulf begins to unpack his books, scowling at the two of them as he does. "Since when?" She asks.

"Since now. Let’s leave Wulf to his studying and go have some fun." Bren beams at her and she nods eagerly, picking up her own bag. "Good luck Wulf." He calls as they leave. "You’ll need it."

Wulf grabs one of his shoes, hurling it at the door just as Bren hastily closes it behind them. They hear it thud on the wood and land on the floor, Wulf's grumbling almost inaudible through the thick oak paneling.

Laughing as they make their way back down the stairs, Astrid can’t help but feel a little guilty. "Do you think we were a bit mean?"

"Nope." Bren replies, smiling at her as he takes her hand and kisses it. "He did the same to us when the tables were turned. And besides, we both know if he’s struggling when we get back later, we’ll help him get it done."

Astrid nods in agreement as they exit the building, giving one last look back up at the windows where the boy's dorms are situated, before linking arms with Bren and snuggling into his side. "So, where are you taking me Mr Ermendrud?"

"Where would you like to go Miss Becke?"

She frowns in thought. Still only late afternoon so the dance hall opposite campus wouldn’t be open yet. The gardens and parks would be too chilly this late in the day with the sun already beginning its descent... "There." She says, pointing towards one of the towers on the eastern side of the main building.

"There?" He asks skeptically. "Isn’t that part of the building mostly disused? Can we even get in?"

"Let’s go find out." She grins. "It’s been too long since we had an adventure."

The nearest door into the east wing takes them through winding corridors of classrooms and labs, empty of students and teachers at this time of day and eerily quiet. After a few wrong turns, they eventually make it to a large glass panelled door at the end of a dim corridor, the panes haphazardly boarded up with gaps just large enough to see through into the hallway beyond. To Astrid's delight, the door swings open easily with a push, and they slip through.

Despite the empty corridors and classrooms behind them feeling oddly devoid of their usual daytime hustle and bustle, the hallway past the door feels like another world entirely. Lined on both sides by tall, arched stonework windows, the glass inside the frames is in various states of disrepair, some having completely broken away leaving the space exposed to the elements. Dust motes sparkle in the last rays of sunlight pouring in on one side, the hallway dividing two separate courtyards on either side, both looking equally abandoned with weeds and brambles running riot over the old brick paths and raised flowerbeds, ivy beginning to creep in through some of the glassless window frames. The floor is littered with broken glass, dust and dried leaves from outside, a lack of footprints indicating that it’s been some time since anyone used this entrance at least.

Astrid leads Bren through the corridor towards a rickety looking wooden door at the end, which almost falls off its rusty hinges when she pulls it open. Peering into the dim space beyond, the walls appear curved, a thin stone spiral staircase leading upwards into the tower itself.

"I’ll race you to the top." She laughs, springing for the stairs without warning. She hears Bren curse behind her and start running to catch up.

Up and up they run, both breathless and panting hard when they finally reach the top floor. A long corridor runs off into the darkness ahead of them, she assumes back towards the main building of the Academy where the side of the tower adjoins it, tiny slivers of light just visible under the thresholds of the ill fitting doors.

Astrid darts off into the first room to the left, sighing triumphantly. Inside is another set of steps against the far wall, this time wooden, curving round in a tight spiral that ends with a thick beamed wooden ceiling and a trap door set within it. Without waiting for Bren to catch up, she carefully climbs the stairs and tests the heavy iron bolt on the hatch. After some manoeuvring and brute force, she manages to shove it back and open the hatch, bright sunlight streaming into the room and making her squint.

"Come on Bren." She calls down to him as he reaches the bottom of the steps, pulling herself up through the trapdoor.

The hatch opens onto a small flat rooftop, the dressed stone wall of the main Academy building butting right up against it and rising high above to one side, casting a shadow on all but the far western portion of the tower roof. Astrid gingerly sits on the low stonework wall around the edge, dangling her legs over the side, a chill wind blowing her mousy hair around her shoulders and no doubt making a horrible mess of it. She couldn’t care less at the moment. The view over Rexxentrum is spectacular from up here. It’s breathtaking, the sprawling city bathed in the golden light of early evening is almost too perfect. It looks like a painting.

Bren walks up beside her, stopping short and backing up a few steps. "Astrid, that is not safe. That drop must be fifty feet at least."

"Bren," she laughs, turning toward him precariously. He cringes uncomfortably. "I learned Feather Fall, remember? After that incident with Ferdinard and the library window, I wasn’t taking any chances. Come on, it’s fine." She pats the stonework beside her encouragingly.

Still grimacing at the height and looking slightly sick, he carefully makes his way over and sits beside her unsteadily, keeping his eyes focussed straight out at the horizon as he carefully avoids looking down. Truth be told, the height is making her slightly queasy too, but there’s no way she’s admitting that to him.

They sit in silence for a while, Astrid resting her head on his shoulder as he tucks an arm around her back, holding her close. She's glad for it too. They both have their heavy cloaks and coats on, but up here in that biting wind she’s beginning to feel the cold, despite the illusion of the golden light making everything look warm. The streets are quickly emptying of people eager to be inside their homes before night sets in, many of those streets already shrouded in shadows with lamps being lit as the sinking sun dips below the rooftops of the taller buildings above.

"What are you thinking about?" Bren asks after a while, looking down at her inquisitively.

"Nothing really. That the city is beautiful. How lucky we are to be here right now. I wonder what we’d be doing if we were still in Blumenthal?"

Bren laughs softly. "I’d be putting away the animals on the farm. Hurrying to get my chores done so that I might get some reading in before my Mutter served dinner. Probably trying not to go mad with boredom and the prospect of that being my life forever."

She smiles, looking back out over the city. "I’d probably be helping my Mutter with dinner. Listening to her retelling the latest town gossip, judging everyone else because she can’t accept how unhappy and unfulfilled she is in her own life."

"Don’t hold back Astrid." He smirks at her. "Makes me feel a bit sorry for her in a way."

Astrid shrugs. "She chose her path. I might feel bad for her if she hadn't spent my whole life trying to force me into the same."

Bren gives her a sympathetic smile and a squeeze around the waist. "Hey, perhaps she might have already married you off to Wulf if we weren’t here. Maybe it would be his dinner you were making, at home in your very own little love nest..."

She screeches dramatically, laughing. "Eww! That’s dumb anyway. Obviously we would have been having a torrid love affair behind her back for ages before finally getting caught, only to elope on the eve of the wedding to make our own way in the world together."

Bren chuckles, shaking his head. "Sounds wonderful. I hope you’re hypothetically very happy together."

"As if Wulf would ever have looked at me twice! We all lived in Blumenthal our whole lives and only really met here." She laughs. "I can’t see Wulf marrying anyway. Not until he's much older at least."

"He and Mura seem pretty close." Bren says looking out over the city. The light is fading quickly now, candles being lit in windows, streetlamps lighting the main thoroughfares of the Shimmer Ward, spiralling outwards as the lamp lighters begin to move on to the streets of the Tangles.

"They do. It’s nice to see him more settled, I think he really likes her. Maybe even loves her." Astrid sighs, nuzzling against his side. She shivers, the air seeming to cool more rapidly as the sun sets.

Bren wraps one side of his cloak around her, sharing his warmth. "Time to go indoors I think Schatz. We could both do with warming up a bit." She nods in agreement and the two of them move apart, swinging their legs back over the low wall and standing up.

She pauses to look back at the view as they reach the trap door, the sun now a blood red semi-circle on the horizon, the sparse clouds in that direction tinged pink and gold in a pale yellow sky, while in the opposite direction, the brightest stars are already appearing as the sky turns a deep blue. She notices that the moons are absent so far, the larger, Catha, in its dark phase at this time of month, the smaller, Ruidus, too small and faint to see with the sun not yet fully set.

She feels Bren rest his chin on her shoulder, his arms snaking around her sides to clasp in front, chest pressed against her back. She nuzzles against his cheek, suddenly aware how cold her nose is against the warmth of his skin.

"I'm so lucky." She whispers, looking back out at the breathtaking aerial view of Rexxentrum at night. "To be here, and to have been chosen for these new classes with Master Ikithon. And to have you."

Bren turns his head to rub his nose against hers, kissing her so softly she barely feels his lips brush hers. She turns to face him fully, looping her arms around his neck to pull him closer and kiss him again. There’s nothing gentle about it this time, and suddenly Astrid doesn’t feel quite so cold any more.

She pulls away and heads for the hatch, descending the stairs and waiting for him at the bottom. He pulls the trap door shut behind him, quickly following. As soon as his feet hit the floor she grabs a handful of his cloak, pulling him down to kiss him again, the pair of them stumbling back until Astrid's back hits the wall, disturbing a cloud of dust. They barely notice, shedding cloaks and coats in a frenzy, kisses hard and hungry.

He ruts against her, both of them gasping as he's so frustratingly close to where she wants him, albeit blocked by too many layers of clothing. She realises with a start that they can change that. They can have what they want. The tower is secluded, they’re alone, and it’s not like they haven’t done it before...

Tearing her mouth away from his she looks down, fumbling her hands between them to unfasten his belt and trousers. He's panting, hair dishevelled, groaning when she takes him in hand and gives his cock a few quick strokes to get him fully hard. Pulling her skirt up over her hips, making her intentions clear, she hooks a leg over his hips and guides him past her underwear to her entrance. He kisses her hard as he shifts his hips and thrusts inside her with a guttural moan.

Their first time had been ok, far better than she’d let herself imagine it could be, but it wasn’t like this. None of their past explorations, stolen kisses, fumbling touches and roaming hands, had ever been like this. This isn’t scheduled. There’s no pressure. It isn’t awkward or nerve wracking. They just let need and instinct take over.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair she forces his willing mouth down to her throat where he sucks a bruise into the skin, his hips seeming to pivot faster when she moans. She digs the fingers of her free hand into his behind, needing more. He obliges, fucking her harder, hitting a spot that makes her cry out in broken Zemnian, begging him not to stop. No, not begging, she realises. Commanding. He groans desperately and she knows he’s close, willing him to just hold out a moment longer. When one of his hands slips clumsily under her blouse to pinch at her nipple, she gasps at the force of the orgasm that hits her, back arching as she rides it out. 

Breathing heavily and forehead damp with sweat, she clings to him still whimpering with the aftershocks of her own climax as he roughly groans his own, hips stuttering before he buries himself deep, half collapsing against the wall on top of her, his gasping breath hot on her neck. She lets her head fall back against the wall in satisfaction, sneezing as another small cloud of dust rises into the air around them. He laughs between ragged breaths, the sound muffled against her shoulder until he too has to sneeze, turning his head away from her just in time.

"I told you I’d beat you to the top." She smiles languidly, shakily unhooking her leg from his waist, using the wall as a support to stretch the cramping limb.

"You had a head start." He sighs, reluctantly moving away to right his very rumpled clothing and fetch their coats and cloaks from the floor.

"True. Next time I’ll give you fair warning, and maybe you’ll be more eager to win knowing what might happen when we reach the top." A blush heats her cheeks and she busies herself with smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt. Bren laughs, realising what she means.

"Could you blame me? That was..." He breathes a satisfied sigh, giving her a lopsided grin as he shakes out his grubby cloak, then pauses, frowning at her. "It was... good for you too, wasn’t it? Scheiße, I didn’t hurt you again did I? I did get a bit carried away..."

She snorts amusedly. "No, you didn’t hurt me. You were brilliant Bren. Surely you felt the evidence, let alone heard it?"

His grin returns and he lets out another sigh, this time of relief. "We, were brilliant Schatz." He says softly, brushing off her dusty coat and handing it to her. Putting on his own coat, he pokes his head out of the doorway to peer into the corridor. "Coast is clear. I think this place is far enough away from the inhabited part of the building that no one would have heard us."

"Were we that loud?"

"We were a little." He grins, obviously quite proud of himself. She blushes again but smiles back at him, equally proud if she’s honest.

"So is this us now?" She asks, taking his hand on the way back down the tower steps. "Messing around together in dark dusty corners?"

"I certainly hope so." He chuckles, pressing a kiss to her hair and putting his arm around her waist. Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, she pulls him in closer to kiss him, taking full advantage of the brief opportunity for privacy. 

"Could do with a more comfortable spot next time though." She says, wincing as she stretches out her aching back when they break apart.

"Sorry Schatz."

"Don’t apologise, I liked it. Seeing you all fired up like that... Still, maybe one day we’ll actually get to do it in a bed meant for two, no dust in sight, and without worrying someone's going to walk in or hear us."

"But until then, that spot really isn’t so bad is it? I mean, it’s private enough at least. It’s an option." He shrugs at Astrid's skeptical look.

"It could be better," she says with a slight frown that quickly becomes a smile. "But it could be a lot worse too. And the outcome was well worth the discomfort."

"You’re sure?"

Astrid looks up at him with a wicked grin, toying with the collar of his coat. "Well I want to do it again already, so I’d say I’m pretty sure."

He swallows hard and licks his lips, and she can tell he’s tempted. "As good as that sounds, we should probably get back to Wulf. I feel bad for teasing him earlier."

"We should. Absolutely." She nods with a smirk, slipping a hand between them to lightly trace patterns over his crotch with fingertips. After barely a few seconds he groans in defeat and kisses her hard, backing her up against the wall of the stairwell.

It’s long since fully dark by the time they eventually make it back to the boy's dorm and discover that Eadwulf is just as stressed as they’d feared he might be.

"I’m never going to get this done." He complains, standing with his hands braced against the wall beside his bed, thumping his head lightly against it with a soft repetitive thud. "I’m such an idiot, why did I do this to myself?"

Astrid moves over to pat his back comfortingly. "You’ll be ok." She looks over at Bren questioningly as he perches on the edge of the bed reading the scant notes Wulf has made so far. He winces, expression grim.

"You’ve still got a lot to do Wulf, but it’s do-able... maybe." He adds unsurely. Wulf groans, the sound muffled with his face now buried in his arms. Astrid shoots Bren a glare. He raises his hands in a defensive shrug mouthing "What?"

"We’ll help you as much as we can, won’t we Bren." There’s no question in her tone, and when she glances at Bren she catches him sigh, but he nods all the same.

Wulf turns around to face her. "You two never should have let me get into this mess. You know how irresponsible I am." He says sullenly. Bren snorts, and Astrid shoots him another glare.

"Never mind who's fault it is. This thing's never going to get done if you stand here sulking all night. Have you finished the reading at least?" Wulf nods, pouting. "That’s something.

"And I wrote a plan. A basic outline at least. More a few bullet points." He sighs, groaning again as he slides down the wall to sit on the floor. "The words just wont come. I know what I need to write, but when I put pen to paper, my brain just won’t work properly."

Bren moves closer, patting his shoulder. "It’s because you’re stressed. Think of it this way. Yes, it was a mistake to let it get to this point, but that’s done now. You’ve got all night left still, about..." he squints in thought momentarily, "...eleven hours. That’s lots of time when you think about it."

Wulf nods, rubbing a hand over his eyes and taking a deep breath, looking a little calmer. He frowns up at them both suddenly. "Why are you both covered in dust?" He asks suspiciously.

Astrid and Bren stare at each other, both trying and failing to hold back smirks. "It’s not important. Don’t change the subject." Astrid sniffs dismissively. Wulf grins knowingly, but leaves it alone.

After lights out, the three meet up in their usual spot in the kitchens, having to traverse an extra floor now that they’ve moved up a year, but evading Matron without issue after so much practice. They sit on the cold tiles together, Wulf writing furiously in the glow of Bren's Dancing Lights, the other two just there for moral support for the most part, unable to offer much help academically but from Wulf's far more relaxed demeanour, Astrid gets the feeling their presence is worth just as much. His pen is still scratching away on the paper when she finally succumbs to sleep against Bren's shoulder in the hours just before first light begins to tint the sky from black, to cobalt, to a deep slate grey.

She stirs finally when Bren presses a few kisses into her hair and whispers her name. Rolling her shoulders to ward off the crick in her neck, she squints at the brightness the Dancing Lights still maintain. "Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep."

"I shouldn’t have let you both stay up with me. It was my problem, not yours." Wulf says tiredly from where he still sits across the thin passage between two counters, barely seeming to have moved all night.

"We wanted to." Bren smiles, though she can see his exhaustion too. 

She yawns, the muscles in her back protesting as she stands. And her pelvis too, though she’s pretty sure she knows what caused that, and it wasn’t a night on the kitchen floor. "Did you get it done?"

Wulf nods, holding up a sheaf of papers secured with a short red ribbon tied at the top. The boys gingerly stand up too, stretching out aching muscles and both yawning. "Scheiße. I guess technically this counts as me losing the wager. Looks like I’m on washing duty."

"You’re not late." Bren shrugs. "So technically, I’m on washing duty."

"Truce?" Astrid suggests tiredly. "Otherwise you can both do my washing." The boys look at each other before nodding in agreement.

Astrid takes Bren's hand as they leave the kitchens, keeping an ear out for Matron. They’re too tired even to jump when the heavy door opens at the end of the corridor and Frans walks in out of the frigid air outside. Shrugging out of his cloak and hanging it up on a wooden peg beside the door, the dwarf gives them all a long suffering glare as they pass him.

"Morning Frans." Wulf just manages before yawning again.

Frans crosses his arms across his chest. "If you’ve messed up my kitchen..."

"We would never dream of it."

"Well just you make sure you don’t." The dwarf sighs, grabbing his apron and tying it behind his back. "Otherwise I’ll tell Matron you keep coming down here in the dead of night." With one last pointed look, he hurries away into the kitchens to start making breakfast.

"Sure you will Frans..." Wulf chuckles quietly when the Dwarf is out of earshot. "There’s a few hours left still before we have to hand these in and get to class. Let’s go get changed before coming back down to grab some breakfast."

"Sounds good." Bren says, giving himself a shake. "Wake me up if I fall asleep in my porridge."

Chapter 26: A Time and a Place

Astrid sighs, her breath fogging up the inside of the carriage window. There’s a sense of deja vu to this journey. Always the same rickety carriage, the same scenery, the same sense of dread at having to spend weeks with her mother. Eadwulf, in his usual position somehow both slumped and squashed onto the small bench opposite her and Bren, seems to share her dread as usual too.

"You two are going to have to look a lot more cheerful when we get out of this thing if you’re hoping to maintain the illusion of being together." Bren smirks beside her. Wulf's mouth quirks with the barest hint of a grin, and Astrid rolls her eyes.

"I’m in half a mind to just tell her the truth."

"Where's the fun in that Schatz." Wulf teases, seeming to cheer up a bit at the prospect of her impending torture at having to see her mother. Astrid suspects that the real reason Bren raised the topic at this point in their journey was to distract Wulf as they pass his former home, and as the carriage sways and bumps along the road past the forge, she has to admit he barely seems to notice. Bren always has been good at reading people.

That doesn’t stop her from frowning sullenly at the pair of them. When Wulf makes a mocking kissy face at her, she darts a foot out towards his shin, yelping when he manages somehow to trap her leg between his own and sit up, grabbing her and pulling her into his lap. With his large arms trapping her own against her sides, she doesn’t even give him the satisfaction of struggling, settling for a glare and yet another sigh.

"You’re no help." She pouts at Bren as he chuckles, making no attempt at all to help her.

He smirks, reclining back into his seat and spreading his arms now he has more room without her there. "It makes sense to keep up appearances Leibe. Can’t have you sitting next to me as we roll into the town square can we." With a little growl, she squirms easily out of Wulf's grasp and sits beside him, much to his amusement.

Watching the modest houses of the outer town roll past through the window, she loses herself in thoughts of the past few months. She can’t quite believe how fast time seems to be moving. It feels like only yesterday they were deep in the grip of a grim city winter. Now though, the sun beams in an almost cloudless sky outside, blossom and pale new leaves smother the sparse trees, and the air is alive with the busy hum of insects on the newly blooming valley slopes of Blumenthal's famous flower meadows.

Ever since Master Ikithon took them under his wing, time has passed in somewhat of a blur. With the extra classes and work to do, sometimes it feels as though there’s barely time to breathe. They found time to celebrate her birthday and Wulf's at least, this time keeping their tiny library gatherings a little quieter than they'd managed at Bren's celebration.

Predictably, the extra lessons hadn’t only kept them more busy. They had always been quite comfortably at the top of most of their classes, but now the difference is undeniable, not only to them but to their peers as well. And also predictably, that hadn’t gone down well.

Ferdinard in particular seemed outraged at what he thought of as preferential treatment that was very much undeserved considering their meagre background. Actually, he’d called it "giving hand outs to the country runts", which had only amused the three of them. Even Wulf had laughed, which had left Ferdinard practically steaming with rage. He'd even marched into Professor Bashere's office one day a few weeks ago and demanded that he be put forward for the extra classes too. From all of Astrid's admittedly limited experience of Professor Bashere, she seemed a kind and patient woman, if scatty. Though despite all that she certainly wasn't a pushover either, and not afraid to use the cane it seemed. Ferdinard had winced every time he sat down for days after, much to their open amusement.

He blamed them of course, and that meant that his entourage were instructed to be as unpleasant as possible to them at every given opportunity. Mura tried to help as much as she could, but life in the same dorm as Renna and Merinda had been uncomfortable at the best of times, now it was barely tolerable. Once, the constant teasing and pranks would have driven her to tears every day. Now it only makes her stronger, especially knowing that the cause is their jealousy at her success.

All the same, the thought of a few weeks at home for the spring holidays had almost seemed a relief when they’d left the Academy early that morning. Almost. As the carriage pulls into the main square and stops abruptly outside the Weißer Drache Inn, it’s a hard choice for Astrid to decide if her mother is actually a better prospect than Renna and Merinda.

"Here we go again..." she mutters as they step out of the carriage, the driver already taking their bags down from the roof.

"Bren!" They hear a woman's voice call cheerfully through the crowds of people shopping at the nearby market stalls. Una Ermendrud crosses the square towards them, making a beeline for Bren who she swiftly grabs into a fierce hug. "There you are. I wondered if you might arrive while I was here. You look too thin," she frowns, pulling back to inspect him. "And your coat is filthy, when did you last wash it?" He shoots a guilty look at Astrid who immediately flushes, while Wulf snorts a laugh.

"Good to see you too Mutter." Bren sighs, picking up his bag. Una makes a beeline for Eadwulf next, pulling him into a bear hug too before rubbing his slightly tatty shirt collar between her thumb and forefinger with a disapproving tut.

"At least you look presentable dear." She says as she hugs Astrid. "You boys, honestly. I’ll be up all night patching and darning your clothes at this rate." She chastises warmly, clearly overjoyed to have them back home.

"I’ll help you up the hill to yours Astrid." Wulf offers, taking the heavier of her two bags.

She smiles sadly at Bren. "I’ll come and see you tomorrow, if I can." He nods looking equally glum, Una watching on beside him with a hint of amusement.

"Come on." She smiles, taking Bren by the shoulders and turning him towards home. "You’ll only be a few miles away from each other. Honestly, young love..."

***************

Dinner that night is as excruciating as Astrid had anticipated it might be. Her mother asks about the Academy with mild interest, particularly the extra classes with Master Ikithon. At least she agrees that it’s an honour to have the personal tutelage of an Archmage. She’s more interested though in how things are going with Eadwulf, whether he’s still interested in her, whether he’s made any move to return to smithing. She answers as noncommittally as she can manage, not trusting herself to be able to give longer answers with a straight face.

By the time she excuses herself and goes to bed, she’s just about ready to reveal to the old bat that she’s still with Bren and the whole thing with Wulf has been a lie, only the potential consequences keeping her from giving up the truth.

Those consequences seem less and less severe the more she thinks about it. She’s old enough after all to ignore her parent's wishes and attend the Academy without their permission. But as confident in her abilities as she feels, there’s always that nagging doubt that should her scholarship be revoked, she’d end up with nothing. It’s something Wulf frets about often, and she certainly doesn’t envy him. As awful as her mother is, her interference is nothing compared to what he endured from his father.

Thinking about Eadwulf inevitably leads her to think of Bren and how much she's going to miss being only a corridor away from the two of them for the next few weeks.

Luckily, the next day her mother is distracted with what she calls a "knitting group emergency", and Astrid manages to slip out to go to the Ermendrud farm. She finds the boys at work in the yard cleaning out the sheep pens, the heavily pregnant ewes looking on from their paddock nearby disinterestedly.

"I forgot this school break coincides with lambing season." Bren grimaces, leaning on the stiff bristled broom he’s been using to half heartedly sweep with.

Wulf strolls over from the barn hefting a hay bale over each shoulder as though they weigh nothing. "Herr Ermendrud has a long list of jobs for us to do while we’re home." He says, dropping the hay and snapping the bindings to begin spreading it.

Astrid climbs up to sit on the pen wall where Frumpkin is sunning himself, scratching the cat lazily behind the ears. "Well that sucks."

"It’s only fair. They took me in, even though I can’t pay anything towards food and rent. A little work is the least I can do to repay them."

Bren shuffles guiltily, and begins sweeping again with a little more effort this time. "You’re not even their real son and you’re a better son than me..."

Astrid chuckles, giving Frumpkin one last tickle under the chin and hopping down from the wall with a resigned sigh to help Wulf with the hay.

"You don’t have to help Astrid. You must have better things to do?"

"Such as? Let me just consult my busy calendar." She rolls her eyes at him with a grin. "Besides, I like your parents."

As they’re finishing the last pen, Una brings them out some tea and fresh baked apple pie still warm from the oven. "Your father went to fix the fence at the far end of the east paddock. The cows got out last week and it took an age for us to herd them back out of the woods. Anyway, once you’re done here he asked me to set you boys to clearing out the barn and giving the horse a good wash and groom."

"Yes Mutter." Bren mumbles distractedly around a mouthful of pie. Una shakes her head as she makes her way back to the house.

Wulf dusts the crumbs from his hands having practically inhaled his pie and downs the last of his mug, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. "Since I’ve plenty of experience with horses, admittedly shoeing them rather than cleaning them but close enough, how about I deal with Hamish..."

"His name isn’t Hamish, it’s..." Bren interjects before Wulf cuts him off.

"He looks like a Hamish so I'm calling him Hamish. I’ll deal with Hamish, while you two get started in the barn. Alone." Wulf waggles his eyebrows at them with a grin. Astrid's eyes widen, and she and Bren look at each other, both smirking.

"My father will probably be a while with the fence..." Bren shrugs thoughtfully.

Wulf's grin widens. "That’s the spirit. There’s hope for you both yet."

"Danke." Astrid says, glancing at Bren and clearing her throat.

As soon as the barn door closes behind them they take full advantage of the brief opportunity to be alone together. With winter well on its way out, the hay stack in the barn is much more depleted than the last time she saw it, but that doesn’t stop them from putting what’s left to good use.

"This is more comfortable than the tower at least." He mumbles against her throat between kisses.

Astrid gasps as his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin where her neck meets her shoulder. Wriggling in an attempt to itch her back which is being prickled by the hay, she isn’t so sure about that. "Marginally perhaps..."

She feels his lips quirk against her pulse point. "I’ll have to do my best to distract you then." Bren finishes with a grunt as she pivots her hips against his.

"Not if I distract you first."

Adept at making the most of their scant spare time in places they could be walked in on, they’re well practiced at adjusting their clothing the least amount possible and keeping foreplay to a minimum. Part of her misses the slow teasing touches and the heady build up of times past, but she knows they’ll have opportunity for that some time in the future. With his hips thrusting into her with a quick rhythm that makes her toes curl, it’s difficult to feel anything but bliss at the moment. She bites her bottom lip in an effort to stop from moaning loud enough for anyone outside to hear.

"Sheiße, Bren..." she whimpers, nails digging into his still clothed shoulders as she feels herself getting close. He groans in response, pounding into her harder, mouth finding hers as he moans desperately. She comes with a strangled gasp muffled against his lips, riding out her climax as he takes a moment longer to find his own, finally burying himself deep and sighing raggedly in relief.

He kisses her, a lazy smile on his lips and sweat damp hair plastered to his forehead. The tender moment is cut short however when, without warning, the barn door suddenly slides open with a loud grating creak on its rusted runners, throwing sunlight into the dim interior.

"Bren Aldric Ermendrud!" Leofric's usually calm voice booms, clearly flustered. "Indoors now, the pair of you! And pull your trousers up Bren before your mother sees you in that state..."

 

***********************

 

Considering what her mother is like, Astrid can think of plenty of times she’s been embarrassed in the past. She’s no stranger to public humiliation at school either, and yet sitting at the Ermendrud's kitchen table, Bren by her side and Una and Leofric regarding them both sternly from across the room, she’s fairly certain this is the most embarrassed she’s ever felt.

The atmosphere is so tense that she and Bren both jump when the kitchen door opens to their left. Eadwulf takes exactly two steps into the kitchen before stopping short as he takes in the scene, makes a hastily muttered excuse, and exits again as quickly as possible. She hears him snort a laugh as soon as the door closes behind him, Bren glaring daggers after him.

Una moves to sit opposite them at the table, leaving Leofric to make a pot of tea as the kettle begins to whistle on the hob. "I was eighteen when I had you Bren. I’m not for a moment saying I regret it, but I didn’t have a promising future ahead of me like you both do. At least tell me you’re being careful in that regard?"

Bren nods, swallowing hard. "We are."

Una visibly relaxes, though the tension doesn’t leave her completely. "That’s something then." Leofric brings over two steaming mugs, one each for him and Una only, a gesture of his irritation. Bren looks down, ashamed. "It does not mean you’re off the hook completely."

"In my barn Bren." Leofric grumbles disapprovingly, arms folded across his chest. "There’s a time and a place for that sort of thing son, and it's not in the middle of the day, in my barn. What if your mother had walked in instead of me?" Bren's cheeks turn an even deeper shade of crimson at that.

Una lays a hand on her husband's arm soothingly. "Believe me when I say we understand. You’re young, you’re in love, this is all new and exciting. We’ve been there ourselves. Sometimes, we’re still there even now..."

Bren groans, burying his head in his hands. "Mutter!"

"Well we’re not exactly old Bren. And with you away so much, and the house to ourselves..." she pauses with a tut as Bren lowers his forehead to the table, thunking it repeatedly against the waxed wood surface as she speaks. "Exactly. You don’t like me even talking about sex, imagine how we feel actually catching you at it."

"It’s disrespectful. Both of you." Leofric looks at them sternly and Astrid feels herself flinch.

"We are really, really sorry Frau Ermendrud, Herr Ermendrud. It won’t happen again." She says timidly.

Bren sits up looking thoroughly chastised and a little sick. "Ja. We are very sorry."

His father sets him back to work immediately, all four of them seeming to decide without needing to vocalise it that it’s probably for the best if Astrid goes home for the rest of the day. The Ermendrud farm is usually a haven Astrid relishes visiting, but after the events of today she’s almost glad to be going back to her Mother's orbit if it absolves some of her embarrassment. A hole opening up in the ground and swallowing her would be preferable though.

Her relief at leaving the stifling kitchen is short lived when, as she makes her way through the gate and along the dirt track towards home, she hears footsteps approaching behind her. She doesn’t need to turn to see Wulf's smug grin as he falls silently into step beside her.

Eventually, the remark she knows he’s been dying to make finally comes. "So. Your roll in the hay went well then..."

"Don’t you dare!" She warns, pointing a finger at him. "This is all your fault."

"Hilarious." He says with a smirk. "I don’t remember telling you two to get caught screwing. Or even to screw at all actually." His face creases as he mockingly pretends to think back, the amusement still plainly visible behind his pretend confusion.

Astrid elbows him in the ribs, growling softly at his answering laugh. "I don’t know why you’re so smug anyway, it’s not as though you’ve never been caught before." She grimaces at the memory of walking in on him, shivering involuntarily as she steps up the earthen bank into the meadow away from the farm.

"Not by my own parents. His father..." he pauses in walking, bending over as laughter wracks him. "...actually... walked in on you..."

"Wulf!" Astrid whines, sighing in exasperation as she strides away across the meadow's short new growth, the farmhouse finally slipping out of view behind the tree line. He catches up easily, ruffling her hair and earning a fresh glare when he presents a stray piece of hay from the tangled mess. "They’re so disappointed... poor Bren."

"He’ll get over it." Wulf shrugs, showing at least some genuine sympathy through his amusement. "You’re not the first to get caught by the parents, and you won’t be the last. You should probably be a bit more careful if you want to avoid it happening again though. What were you thinking?" He finishes with a deep chuckle.

Astrid huffs frustratedly, grimacing. "We weren’t thinking, clearly. I don’t know what’s wrong with us, we can’t keep our hands off each other lately."

"I know the feeling."

She looks up at him, surprised by how bashful he suddenly looks, wearing the flush in his cheeks that he always seems to sport nowadays whenever Mura is mentioned. "How are things with you two?"

He’s silent for a moment, frowning deeply. "How do you... how do you know when you love someone?"

She stares at him for just a second before slotting her hand into the crook of his elbow and smiling warmly at him as they walk together arm in arm. "I’m not sure I can really help you there. You just sort of know. Like, you want to be with them all the time, and you really care about them. Making them happy seems more important than making yourself happy. I can’t really describe it more than that Wulf. I’ve never been great with words. Bren will be more use to you I expect."

Wulf nods with a grunt, looking troubled. "I think I'm falling for her at least, really really falling for her."

"Is that a bad thing?"

He huffs a heavy breath, silent again as they cross the stile into the next field and begin down the hillside into the valley. Dark spring rain clouds roil on the horizon, rapidly blowing in their direction. She makes a face at them, wondering if she and Wulf will make it to hers before the rain begins.

"It’s scary." He finally answers.

"I can relate to that." She gives his bicep a supportive squeeze.

The downpour begins suddenly as they reach the top end of the flower meadow beside her house, sending them both sprinting for the porch to shelter. Laughing and out of breath, they lean back against the wall, Astrid wringing out her hair as Wulf shakes his own like a dog coming out of a pond, a few stray droplets spraying her in the face. She tuts, his lopsided grin not remotely sorry.

He glances off to the right suddenly, turning towards her and dropping his face into the crook of her neck, nose brushing against her ear. She squeaks, about to ask what on Exandria he thinks he’s doing when the door opens, revealing her mother. Clearing his throat, he pulls away again as if embarrassed. "Frau Becke." He says with his most winning smile.

"Eadwulf." She returns dryly, clearly taken in by his ruse. "Stop canoodling with my daughter in public and remove yourself from my porch. This is a respectable household."

"Of course." He gives the older woman a little bow before turning to smile at Astrid, putting on an air of bashfulness. "See you tomorrow, I hope."

"Goodbye Wulf." She answers with a healthy side of rye amusement.

She catches her mother eyeing him a little too appreciatively as he makes his way back out into the deluge, beginning to jog up the lane when he reaches the gate. Astrid sighs as she heads inside to dry off, more than ready to put the days embarrassment behind her and curl up in her room with a book.

Chapter 27: Big Plans

Notes:

This chapter tips Best Days, Worst Days over 100k words! I accidentally wrote a fanfic novel!

Cute magic shenanigans and then... somewhere not quite so cute. Welcome to Vergessen. Your Trent Icky Thong warning starts here.

"Alright, I think I have the somatics down. I’m going to give it a try."

Astrid steps away from their study spot in the shade of a sprawling oak in the centre of the paddock. Shrugging her shoulders to relax the tense muscles in her back, she takes a sideways stance with her feet spread slightly apart for balance. Reaching into her component pouch, she takes a long, slow breath in and out to clear her mind and tries to focus.

When she feels centred, she begins. Pressing a grasshopper leg to her palm, she closes her fist tight around it, moving the fingers of her other hand in the complex patterns required as she whispers the verbal component under her breath. Opening her fist, the grasshopper leg fizzles out of existence in the air and she feels the spell energy settle over her, an odd sensation akin to goosebumps on her skin, or feeling someone's breath on the back of her neck.

Licking her lips nervously, she shifts her weight to her back foot and propels forward in a jump that should see her move only a few paces. Instead, in a dizzying blur of movement and breeze, she lands unsteadily about three metres from where she began, barely keeping her feet.

"Woah!" Wulf laughs. "So Jump looks as awesome as I’d hoped it would. Think you can help me learn it next?"

Bren stands up and moves toward her, beaming. "Good work Schatz." He leans in to kiss her, and before he can quite reach her lips, she leaps away with a grin, feet steadier this time. He makes a lunge for her again, laughing, and again she evades him. After a few jumps, he crosses his arms and pouts, refusing to give chase anymore.

Dropping the spell, she makes her way over, giving him a peck on the lips. "I won’t subject you to the full ten minutes it can last."

"Leibe, you can subject me to anything you like." he murmurs quietly with a sly little grin as he rubs the tip of his nose against hers. "Do you have any idea how hot you are when you’re being brilliant? Watching you work out complex magical equations does things to me..."

"Guys!" Wulf whines from beside the tree. "Could you stop being horny for each other for just maybe like five minutes?"

"Sorry Wulf." Astrid pulls away from Bren with a chuckle, letting her fingers brush against his briefly as she makes her way back to sit under the tree again. "How's Thunderwave coming along Bren? Ready for a demonstration yet?"

"Just about. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the spatial formulae, but I can give it a go. And if it doesn’t work, what's a little wasted energy and some mild humiliation among friends?" He smiles at them as he makes his way to the target they'd already set up about fifty feet ahead, a good sized hollow in the ground, the grass around it pocked with divots and scorch marks. "You might want to cover your ears, just in case I do get it right." He calls, rolling his shoulders in preparation.

Astrid and Eadwulf look at each other warily before doing as instructed, holding their hands over their ears to muffle any sound. They watch as Bren begins to cast. His brow creases adorably in concentration, nose screwing up as the spell obviously fails. He holds up a finger to them in a "one more try" gesture before attempting it once more.

This time, as soon as he’s done with the components, there’s a loud crack through the air, almost deafening even with their hands over their ears and the safe distance between. Bren stands in the centre of the hollow looking surprised as a broad circle of dust and debris radiates out a good ten feet from him. Wulf laughs raucously, whooping as the two of them remove their hands from their ears as soon as the thunder dissipates.

"What are you three up to out here?" Una shouts with a laugh, appearing further down the hill as she makes her way towards them. "Honestly, you’ll have the Crownsguard up here investigating with all that noise."

"Sorry Mutter." Bren says, coming back over to meet her as she reaches the tree.

"Nein, don’t apologise Bren. You know how proud we are, your father and I. We love seeing what you’re learning at the Academy. What was that one called?"

Astrid notices his smile beaming as his mother speaks, his cheeks flushing with unexpected bashfulness. "It was Thunderwave. Would you like us to show you some more? I think we’re running a little low on energy for our more impressive spells, but there are others we’ve been working on." As he finishes speaking he takes a second to cast Fire Bolt, a simple cantrip but impressive to a complete novice she has no doubt. She wonders exactly when cantrips became "simple" to her. Not so long ago the subtle glow of Dancing Lights or the spectral levitating grasp of Mage Hand had her eyes as wide as saucers in wonderment.

As Bren hurls his little mote of flame harmlessly a short distance away, Una gasps. "How extraordinary..."

Beside her, Wulf casts Shocking Grasp, the little forks of electricity dancing harmlessly between his finger tips without a target to hit. Astrid thinks for a moment before casting Prestidigitation, creating the image of a sparrow hopping merrily in her palm. She smiles at the joy on the older woman's face, realising how nice it is to be around people who don’t see magic every day. Looking down at the image in her hand takes her back to her first days at the Academy, when the arcane arts were almost a complete unknown. How things have changed.

Una claps when they finish their showing off, Bren casting Dancing Lights as the sunlight begins to fade. Una smiles warmly at her son. "That was one of the very first things you learned. I remember thinking how incredibly clever you were to be able to do such a thing. I wasn’t so impressed when I realised it meant I couldn’t stop you reading long past your bed time." He tuts embarrassedly as she pats the lapels of his coat fondly, which only makes her smile widen before she sighs. "Well, thank you for showing me some of what you’re learning. I came to tell you all that dinner is ready. Astrid, are you staying? You’re more than welcome."

Astrid licks her lips nervously. Ever since Bren's father caught them together in the barn just over a week ago, she’s been avoiding the Ermendrud's. She finds she just can’t quite look them in the eye yet. Even now she feels her cheeks start to heat as she answers. "Um, no thank you Frau Ermendrud. My mother will already have cooked for me."

Una smiles knowingly, making Astrid's cheeks flush further. "Of course, another time perhaps. Come on Eadwulf, let’s leave these two love birds to say their goodbyes." Turning to walk back towards the house, she loops her arm through Wulf's. "Don’t be long." She adds, with a pointed look at Bren. Astrid is amused to see his cheeks turn bright red too. Wulf goes without resistance, turning to grin at them both and say a hasty goodbye as he’s led away.

"You know," Bren says as soon as they’re out of earshot. "I think she's really enjoying making us squirm."

Astrid moves to take his hand, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I can’t say I blame her. I think I’d do the same if I were her."

"I feel for our potential future children." Bren says dryly, turning to face her and loop his arms around her waist. "Is it odd that the thought of us having children one day doesn’t scare me?" She sees a hint of something flash across his face and thinks it might be uncertainty, that maybe he wonders if he’s said too much.

She stands up on her tip toes to kiss him soundly. "It’s not odd. I think I quite like it actually." She admits, to herself as well as to him.

He beams in response, before his smile turns to the lopsided grin she’s come to know so well. "I’m going to marry you one day Astrid Becke. And we’re going to have babies, and a home..."

"With room for Wulf to live with us too." She interjects, only half joking.

"...With room for Wulf too..." He adds, chuckling. She suspects he’s only half joking too. "...And glittering careers, and spell books full to bursting, and everyone around us will be absolutely sick with jealousy."

She laughs as he nuzzles against her neck knowing full well she’s ticklish. "Those are some big plans you’ve got there Bren Ermendrud."

"We've got big prospects." He shrugs, pulling back to look at her.

Kissing him again, she leans against his chest, holding him close while he strokes his fingers over her back. "Big plans for a big ego. I like it."

"Good job you’ve got big ambition to match my big ego isn’t it."

As the shadows lengthen and the light turns golden in the low early evening sun, a handful of newborn lambs frolicking a short distance away around their grazing mothers, Bren and Astrid take a few minutes to lose themselves in each other and in their big plans. It’s strange, she realises, how little the future scares her. And just how badly she wants that life they’re dreaming of. How determined she feels to make it happen. Standing in the paddock kissing him in the chill spring air, she can't picture ever wanting a life without him. Even just the thought of it brings a stab of sadness, and makes her cling to him all the more tightly.

Eventually, and with some considerable effort, the pair part ways and Astrid heads home for her last lonely night before their return to the Academy in the morning.

 

***************

 

Going into their first lesson back with Master Ikithon is refreshing after two weeks away. Astrid can’t quite explain it, but these lessons just feel different to all their others. There’s the excitement of learning new magic of course, and of advancing faster than their peers. But there’s something else too. A sense of importance that makes her feel as though there’s a purpose to it all that she can’t quite understand yet. As though what they’re doing is bigger than she can fully comprehend.

Any doubts that she may have about that are muted behind the curiosity and wonderment of what Master Ikithon teaches them during that disappointingly short hour every Conthsen and Folsen afternoon.

"You have been practicing while you were away, I see." Master Ikithon nods approvingly. "I think it is time we began working on the next level of spells. You won’t be able to cast them for a while of course, but you are more than ready for the theory. Keep on proving yourselves, and you will be ready to move up a level before the end of the term."

They look at each other in stunned silence for a moment. "Before the end of this term, Master Ikithon?" Bren asks tentatively.

"Yes. You do not agree that you are ready?"

"I suppose... we hadn’t considered it possible." Bren answers incredulously.

Master Ikithon smiles, an unsettling expression on him despite it being well meant. Astrid mentally chastises herself for thinking that way. "You should get used to considering the impossible Bren. What I have shown you up until now is only the very beginning." He stands from the chair behind his large desk, striding around to perch on the edge facing them. "With that in mind, there is something else I believe you are ready for. A short excursion away from the Academy to a facility called the Vergessen Sanatorium. I have my summer residence there, and conduct much of my research in the laboratories on the grounds."

Wulf frowns in thought. "Vergessen... I think I’ve heard of it before?"

"Quite possibly." Master Ikithon nods. "Its primary function is as a hospital for those with complex sicknesses, usually of the mind. But there are a wide range of facilities at Vergessen, not least some of the best furnished laboratories the Empire has to offer. The research I conduct there is cutting edge and innovative. I think it would be of great benefit to your studies to see how magic can be applied in a real-world setting, and how new discoveries can be developed to advance us."

Astrid looks to the others, trying to remain cool and composed instead of breaking into the enormous grin she can feel twitching at the corners of her mouth. It’s plain the boys are having the same problem, though Bren is decidedly better at keeping his face neutral than Wulf who is visibly biting his lip with the effort. "We’d be honoured to see what you’re working on Master Ikithon."

"Excellent." The Archmage says with a wide smile that bares his teeth. "We will be leaving during our lesson tomorrow. There is no need to bring anything but your books, your component pouches, and yourselves, everything else will be provided for you."

As soon as the door closes behind them, Wulf grabs them both into a bone crushing hug with a laugh. "We’re going to an actual lab. A real lab with real actual new magic!"

"With an actual Archmage." Astrid giggles, voice muffled against his chest.

Bren laughs beside her as Wulf releases them. "I think I’m dreaming. I must be. Three ragtag kids from the country cannot possibly be this lucky."

 

**************

 

Standing in Master Ikithon's office the next afternoon, Astrid has to work to contain her excitement again. Beside her, Bren and Eadwulf shuffle from foot to foot with nervous energy, Wulf openly grinning.

Master Ikithon, sitting at his desk, finishes writing in the large ornate book before him. He closes it carefully and, with a wave of his hand, makes the tome disappear into thin air. They’ve seen him do this a number of times now, but Astrid still has to make an effort not to gape every time. Bren looked it up the last time they were in the library before their trip home, and worked out that he’s most likely using a cantrip called Wrist Pocket.

"Alright then." He says, standing with his bony hands folded neatly in front of his crimson robes. "Ready to leave?" When the three of them nod, he moves around the desk towards them. "We will be traveling via means of teleportation. I assume that is a new experience for you all?"

This time Astrid does gape. So do the other two. Together, they manage to recover just enough to nod in answer to his question, and she’s sure she sees him smirk as he steps past them to the clear space beyond the desk to stand in the centre of the large maze patterned rug there.

Pulling an object she can’t quite see from a deep pocket in his robes, he crooks a finger to beckon them closer and as soon as they comply, mutters under his breath a complex string of words she can’t begin to make any sense of, let alone remember.

In a second that feels like mere moments and hours too, all in one dizzying blur of light and motion, Astrid finds herself standing with Master Ikithon, Bren and Eadwulf on a neat gravel pathway leading up to a huge, imposing stone structure surrounded by ornamental gardens and trees. Only just managing to keep her feet, she sways slightly as she turns to look over her shoulder. Bren slips his hand into hers to steady her.

All along the edge of the well maintained grounds runs a tall, intricate ironwork fence, with intermittent stone columns and wicked sharpened spikes atop each iron bar. She notices a few guardsmen posted at intervals along the inside of the fence and patrolling the pathways, armed with pikes and short swords.

"Welcome to the Vergessen Sanatorium." Master Ikithon smiles, gesturing towards the larger building.

He leads them off down one of the pathways, passing the Sanatorium on the right hand side and heading deeper into the gardens. Astrid looks up in awe as they follow, the blocky stone tower with its peaked slate roof and starkly bare walls a change from many of the much more aesthetically pleasing structures she’s used to seeing in Rexxentrum. 

After a short walk, she spots the top of another stone tower poking through the trees to the north west, and then another further off to the north east. The closer of the two seems more extravagant with carved cornices and decorative stonework, the further appearing more blocky and square, though both somehow manage to match the rest of the architecture she’s seen, with severe lines and dark stonework. They head west towards the closer more ornate tower which stands in a clearing surrounded by woodland, many of the trees gnarled and twisted, devoid of leaves despite the time of year.

"This is my summer residence, and it is where you will stay when you are here. Rooms have been set up for you already." The large double doors swing open as they make their way up the stone steps towards them, seemingly unmanned. Master Ikithon continues, striding into an entry hall with deep red carpets laid over the flagstone floor, and dark wood panelled walls lit by seemingly free floating globules of light. "I ask only that you work hard and manage your time and behaviour appropriately. Anything less than your best will be disappointing."

Master Ikithon leads them up a set of wide red carpeted stairs to a landing that curves in two directions leading to opposite hallways. "Here you will have many of your lessons. There is a small library should you need it," he gestures to the two hallways one after the other, "and a study where you will be encouraged to push yourselves to learn new spells. Elin will show you to your rooms," he says, pointing to a young human in dark livery waiting by a second flight of stairs at the end of the library corridor. "Let them or any of the other servants know if there is anything you require. I will meet you in the dining hall downstairs for dinner in two hours."

They follow Elin up to another landing. "Your rooms are these three on the left, bathroom is across the hall." Elin says disinterestedly, opening the door to the first room. It’s larger than Astrid expected, easily large enough to comfortably fit the double four poster bed, a large leather trunk, a plain carved wardrobe, matching chest of drawers, and a washstand complete with mirror and red glazed bowl and pitcher. A large scarlet and gold rug covers much of the floor, a small black iron hearth crackling with well tended flames opposite the bed. Two large sash windows sit on the wall opposite the door, both lead-lined and with plush red velvet curtains hanging on each side. She notices with a start that the room is square rather than round, completely at odds with the design of the tower. "Will that be all masters, mistress?"

In a daze, the three of them stutter their thanks. Elin turns with a knowing smirk and heads back down the hall, leaving them alone. They pick a room each, Wulf the first room, Bren in the middle, and Astrid's the furthest down the hallway. When she opens the wardrobe in her room, she's startled to find it much more full than she’d anticipated. There are two cloaks, black with scarlet lining and well tailored, and three fine dress coats in a cut resembling a tabard, scarlet trimmed with pale gold fringe. A strange insignia is embroidered in silver across the breast of one of the coats, shaped like a three pointed target.

"This is incredible." Wulf laughs, striding through the door and jumping on her bed, bouncing a good foot in the air on the springy mattress and knocking a well stuffed pillow off onto the floor. Bren follows him in, grinning. "If I'd known we would get this treatment when Master Ikithon offered us this tutoring, I never would have hesitated."

"That’s probably why he doesn’t tell students about it before they agree." Bren joins her at the wardrobe, looking at the clothing inside. "I have those too, perfectly tailored to my size. I’ve never worn anything so well made."

She closes the wardrobe doors and goes to the clothes trunk at the foot of the bed. Opening it, she finds freshly pressed skirts and blouses in her size. The chest of drawers holds brand new shifts and stockings, a thick dressing robe, and all the towels and washcloths she could ever need.

"We really don’t need to bring anything with us, it’s all here." She says, feeling one of the shifts between her thumb and forefinger. It’s cotton still, but good quality, better than any of the old, worn ones she has in her drawers back at the Academy.

"Is that creepy? Should I be worried about that because I do not feel worried about that." Wulf sighs happily, arms folded behind his head as he relaxes on her bed.

Bren wanders over to one of the windows to look out at the heavily forested view, Astrid joining him. The sun is concealed by thick cloud cover, a barely visible ball of pale light over the tree tops, the forest spread out below in a tangled mass of bare twisting branches, late spring snow dusting the ground beneath them and built up in shallow drifts around some of the exposed roots. Through the gloom she can make out the towering Sanatorium to the south, angled and sharp jutting up into the grey afternoon sky.

"I wonder if that’s where the laboratories are?" Bren ponders, following her line of sight and frowning at the imposing building.

"It makes sense I suppose, it’s big enough."

He turns away from the window with a shiver. "Without doubt that is the creepiest place I’ve ever seen, fancy labs or none."

"We grew up on Zemnian fairy tales Bren." She laughs, turning with him. "Don’t tell me you scare that easily?"

Bren smiles, taking her hand and kissing it. "With you by my side Schatz, I’m sure I’ll be too distracted to be scared."

"Alright," Wulf says suddenly, rising from the bed and hurriedly making for the door. "I think that’s my cue to give you two some alone time. I’m going to go grab a quick nap. Have fun." He closes the door behind himself before Bren or Astrid can even think of a reply.

"He’s right." She says, biting her lip. "We are alone. And we have a bed."

"A very big, comfortable bed." Bren smirks. "We need to meet Master Ikithon for dinner in about an hour and a half."

Summoning Mage Hand, she uses it to turn the lock on the door before looping her arms around his neck and moving him slowly towards the bed with a sly grin. "Plenty of time."

Smiling, Bren kisses her, allowing himself to fall onto the bed as the backs of his knees bump the frame, Astrid falling on top of him with a giggle.

Chapter 28: Research and Development

Notes:

Creepy, manipulative Trent Ickythong. Goes without saying *shiver*

The first odd thing Astrid notices when she wakes up, before she even opens her eyes, is the warmth of another body beside hers. Or not exactly beside, more entangled with her own. Nuzzling still half asleep against Bren’s chest, she notices the second odd thing. They’re both completely naked.

Opening her bleary eyes, she finds grey pallid light seeping around the edges of thick scarlet curtains, in a room significantly larger than the one she’s used to waking up in and with fewer beds too. It takes her a moment to remember that she's not in her Academy dorm, but at Vergessen.

What follows then are rapidly returning memories of the previous night. Snuggling into Bren's chest, she smiles in satisfaction and lets sleep take her for a short while longer.

The next time she awakes it’s to the sound of a bell out in the hallway. With a quiet groan, Bren presses a kiss to her forehead and disentangles himself just enough to stretch. “Good morning Schatz.”

“Morning. I guess that’s our cue to get up.”

He grumbles, wrapping her in his arms again and burying his face in her hair. “I want to stay here with you all day.” She thinks he says, the sound muffled.

Astrid chuckles. "I’m truly honoured, especially considering we’ll probably be going on a tour of the labs today. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to reconsider your preference?"

He lifts his head to smile wryly at her. "You make a good point Schatz. But last night was pretty incredible. It’s honestly a tough choice."

"Bren Ermendrud you lying toad. Incredible it may have been, but as if you’d ever turn down the chance to see a magical laboratory?" Astrid boops him on the nose with a laugh.

He chuckles, booping her nose in return. "You’re right Schatz, I wouldn’t. But..." he lifts the covers just enough to look down at her appreciatively, hand sliding across her back and over her waist to dance his fingers up her inner thigh. "...I wouldn't say no to a quick repeat of last night?" 

Astrid smiles and bites her lip, considering his suggestion. She leans in close, nose touching his and their lips barely half an inch apart. "Tempting. We’re going to be late if we do though."

Bren smirks at her moan as his fingertips find their target, stroking little circles over the bundle of nerves between her legs with practiced proficiency. "I thought you knew me better than that by now Leibe. This won’t take long."

"Smug bastard." She sighs, pulling him in for a kiss.

Somehow, they’re only a few minutes late to breakfast, Bren slipping back to his room to get dressed before they make their way downstairs separately. Wulf eyes them knowingly over the breakfast table, barely concealing his amusement but remaining mercifully silent in Master Ikithon's company.

Over breakfast Master Ikithon announces that they are indeed going to the Sanatorium's main building to tour his laboratories. He strides ahead as he leads them along the well manicured paths towards the towering structure, giving them enough space that Wulf can finally say what has clearly been on the tip of his tongue all morning.

"So I noticed when I passed your room this morning that your bed was incredibly neat Bren. Almost as though it hadn’t been slept in..." Wulf smirks.

Bren turns a shade of red similar to his hair as he blushes, prodding Wulf hard in the side. "Could you not?"

"What?" Wulf chuckles, nudging him back with his elbow. "Surely you’re not ashamed of spending the night in your girlfriend's bed?"

"Of course not! But I don’t want him knowing, so keep it down will you?" Bren hisses, nodding towards Master Ikithon ahead, who seems not to have noticed.

Astrid rolls her eyes at the pair. "Hey, remember yesterday, when he said he expected us to act like mature adults...?"

Bren exhales slowly, visibly collecting himself with some effort. "In the interest of acting like an adult, I refuse to rise to the bait Eadwulf. But just because he probably doesn’t mind, doesn’t mean I want you broadcasting it. It’s private. So... shut up." He finishes sulkily.

Wulf grins, pressing a finger to his lips. "Of course. My lips are sealed." After a brief pause he continues. "Just keep it down next time ja, you kept me awake half the night with all the screaming."

"I do not scream you idiot." Astrid grumbles.

"Well in that case, Bren you obviously need to step your game up..."

"Wulf!" Astrid smacks him soundly on the arm but can’t help a small chuckle, as Bren gives him a withering glare.

"Ok ok, I didn’t hear a thing. But come on, how can I resist teasing you both when you make it so easy?"

"Perhaps," Master Ikithon says good-naturedly from up ahead, not turning around to look at them or slowing his pace, "your time would be better spent discussing your magical and academic interests, rather than your sexual exploits."

The three of them exchange horrified glances, going beet red and remaining silent for the rest of the short walk.

The main Sanatorium building towers above them as they approach, a huge gothic mansion that looks like something straight out of an old Zemnian folk story. There’s an ornate kind of gothic beauty to it, but with the dark grey clouds threatening rain amassed above and its sharp angles and lines, it’s hard not to find it intimidating.

Entering a nondescript wooden door on the western side of the building, flanked on either side by  guards, they head down a narrow stone staircase to a long, torch lined corridor. The first lab they come to is immaculately tidy, rows of test tubes and beakers lined up neatly in the glass fronted cupboards, benches waxed to a gleaming shine and floors freshly mopped. It has every piece of equipment Astrid has ever read about, and many things she can’t even begin to identify.

"This laboratory is not currently in use, but it is one of our largest." Master Ikithon smiles, gesturing in general to the space. "Perhaps you can use it yourselves to perform some experiments, if you come up with theories sound enough to warrant such a thing. I have high hopes for you." Astrid notes that his gaze lingers on Bren with his last comment, wondering if it’s relevant or if she’s reading too much into it.

"Master Ikithon? Many of the spells that magical practitioners use have been around for centuries, perhaps millennia even. What sorts of discoveries is it that you are looking for here, if you don’t mind my asking?" Bren shuffles nervously, obviously wondering if he’s overstepped.

Master Ikithon considers him carefully before replying with a smile. "I do not mind your asking at all Bren, in fact I encourage it. Never be afraid to ask questions, any of you. If we do not ask questions, how can we ever hope to learn? Let me show you some of the things I am working on."

He turns, leading them out of the lab and further along the narrow corridor towards another heavy wooden door. "This is where some of my most interesting endeavours are being undertaken."

Inside, three of the benches are set up with various complex arrangements of equipment, tubes, beakers, pipes, flasks and condensers made from a variety of materials, glass, copper, brass and iron. The liquids and gasses encased within are varying colours too, and Astrid can’t begin to follow what they might be trying to achieve.

Master Ikithon gives no explanation, instead telling them to have a look around while he goes to speak with a woman at the far end of the room, a petite middle aged elven woman in a deep red tunic who looks up long enough to give a short bow before going back to writing in a leather bound notebook as he speaks with her in hushed tones.

"What do you think they’re making?" Wulf asks, frowning at a bubbling vial of deep purple liquid clamped over a small burner with a blue flame.

"Could be anything." Bren shrugs, scanning the rest of the equipment and working hard at pretending not to watch Master Ikithon and the elven woman as they converse. "There are spell components in those jars lining the walls, so maybe some sort of potion making? I’ve heard there are ways to condense or contain a spell in liquid form sometimes."

"Like enchanting, or healing potions? You think they’re trying to find a way to utilise a spell without expending energy to cast it?" Astrid asks, leaning on the work bench to get a closer view of the equipment.

Bren wanders around the other side of the bench, head cocked to one side as he studies some copper distillation apparatus. "Could be. He did say his work is groundbreaking."

"That’s more than groundbreaking. What would be the point of wizards if they did that? We’d be redundant." Wulf grumbles.

Astrid shakes her head. "You’d probably still need someone to cast a spell in order to imbue a liquid version. It’s just like using a scroll, you still need someone to transcribe it and to read it." Wulf humphs, clearly unconvinced.

"Imagine if an archer could shoot a vial of liquid hundreds of feet, and create a wall of fire or something... or a trebuchet. That sort of thing could be a valuable weapon if the Dynasty invaded."

"An excellent idea Bren, very inventive." Master Ikithon says, none of them having noticed him making his way back towards them. "That is not what we are working on here, but an idea for you to investigate in future perhaps. My current work is far less violent than that."

Bren nods, and Astrid notices his chest puffing out just a little at the praise. "What is your work Master Ikithon?"

"At the moment, I am concerned more with enhancing what we already have than creating new. Extending our magical capabilities." Slipping a bony hand into one of the deep pockets of his robe, he pulls out a couple of pieces of blue-green crystal and passes them one each. Astrid rubs her thumb gently over the jagged edges of the rough hewn stone, holding it up to the light. She can just make out the glow of torchlight through the barely translucent sliver of crystal. Bren and Eadwulf inspect their own crystals just as curiously to either side of her. "These have some very interesting properties for example."

"What are they Master Ikithon?" Astrid asks. "I mean, I see that they’re crystals of some sort, a rock or mineral perhaps, but what are they?"

Master Ikithon holds out his hand, gesturing for them to return their samples. He waits until they are all tucked firmly back into his pocket before answering. "When applied in the correct manner, these crystals can enhance the abilities of magical practitioners. My research is still ongoing, but I have largely perfected the process now. I am currently conducting trials to measure how successful the enhancement is, and how the process may be streamlined to be more practical. There are many variables that must be considered."

"Would that be something we might assist you with Master Ikithon?" Wulf asks, clearly angling to get involved. She can practically see the hunger in his eyes at the mention of ability enhancement.

Master Ikithon smiles indulgently. "I applaud your enthusiasm but unfortunately, at the moment Eadwulf, I would have reservations against you becoming involved in that particular project. You are all doing extremely well, but you are still relatively inexperienced in the arcane arts. For now, this would be a step too far beyond your capabilities. But, prove to me that you are proficient enough, and perhaps I may be inclined to change my mind." Wulf having initially slumped a fraction in disappointment, now suddenly gets a glint of determination in his eye. She can’t blame him. The thought of being involved in such a project is certainly an incentive.

With that, Master Ikithon nods a brief farewell to the woman still writing in the journal at the far end of the room, and leads them up the stairs and back outside to the gardens. Bren looks wistfully at the door to the labs as they follow on behind their tutor, Astrid taking his hand and smiling fondly at him.

"I’m sure we’ll visit them again soon." She whispers, leaning into him. He smiles back and gives her hand a squeeze.

"I wondered," Master Ikithon begins, turning to them briefly as he continues along the paved path into the sparse woodland surrounding his tower. "If you might have come to any decisions regarding your specialities? Astrid, you cast your net the widest with your choice of classes this semester did you not? Have you had any further thoughts on what branch of magic you are most interested in?"

The question catches her off guard as she scrambles for an answer. The truth is, she's been avoiding the subject since signing up for her classes all those months ago. "I haven’t, Master Ikithon." She replies hesitantly, unsure of what he wants to hear. "If I had to pick, it would be illusion I think. But I want to be certain before taking the leap."

He nods solemnly. "Of course, of course. Though, sometimes, it is the availability of choice itself which prevents us from coming to a conclusion. You took Medicine as one of your classes. I am aware that among students that is often a class taken in the pursuit of an easy ride, and yet Professor Krüger has been most impressed with the aptitude you've shown. You do well in all of your classes of course, but he seems to believe you have a genuine interest in anatomy, is that so?"

"It is, Master Ikithon. It's frivolous though compared to more traditionally arcane classes. I have been thinking of dropping it." She shrugs, feigning nonchalance.

Master Ikithon shakes his head, expression grim. "Medicine certainly has its place in arcana. How can we hope to understand what effect magic will have on the body without first understanding the body itself? Amongst arcanists it is a woefully neglected subject. It aligns with much of my research, it would be a shame to waste your obvious talent."

She frowns in thought, considering his words as he moves on to speak with Wulf about the same topic. What Master Ikithon said makes sense. She does really enjoy the classes, especially the experimentation. Most mages seem to think themselves above healing magic, but there’s so much more to it than just that. The mysteries of the body are as great as the mysteries of the arcane, in her opinion at least. Perhaps the two subjects are more closely related than she’d previously thought…

When she snaps out of her head and back to the discussion happening beside her, Master Ikithon is saying much the same to Wulf about Enchantment. As far as she’s heard previously from his admittedly limited input on the topic, he seems to most enjoy Abjuration and Evocation, but by the time Master Ikithon moves his attention onto Bren, Wulf seems firmly set on the idea of expanding his understanding of Enchantment magic.

"And you Bren? Are you any closer to deciding between Evocation and Transmutation?" The old man asks patiently.

Bren nods. "I think so. Out of the two I seem to have more of an affinity with Transmutation. The concept of altering the molecular structure of something is fascinating."

Master Ikithon inclines his head in agreement, though his hesitation is clear. "I am surprised I must say. I believed as soon as I saw your first year report that you would take up Evocation on a more permanent basis. It seems utterly perfect for you."

"You think so?" Bren asks.

"I have seen many young wizards in my time Bren, I can almost always tell what speciality they will choose. Evocation is definitely my pick for you, I am certain of it." Bren's brow creases in thought. The rest of the walk back is quiet, Master Ikithon seeming content to let them think on his advice as he strolls ahead.

"We will have a tutoring session in the study for the remainder of the morning, and after lunch there will be time for you to utilise the library for whatever research you wish to carry out before we return to the Academy." Master Ikithon informs them when they reach the tower. "I will meet you in the study in fifteen minutes."

On the way up the stairs, Astrid slips her hand into Brens. "You’re quiet. Are you thinking about what he said?"

"I suppose I’d started to come around to the idea of focussing my attention on Transmutation. It’s just a change, that’s all. I trust Master Ikithon's opinion, he knows what he’s talking about." Bren smiles at her and it seems genuine enough. "I have to admit, I have always been interested in Evocation, ever since I cast Dancing Lights for the very first time. There’s something about toying with the forces of nature that appeals, making the earth shudder beneath your feet, or the air crack with thunder. Having flames burst from your finger tips. Things that shouldn’t be possible but are. There’s a power to it."

She nods, understanding perfectly the feelings he’s describing. There's a lust to it that scares her sometimes. "Do you ever worry about that? You know... if you’ll ever lose yourself to it?" He shrugs but pointedly doesn’t look at her. She takes that as a yes.

Chapter 29: The Fun and the Forfeit

Notes:

I only took about two weeks this time!

Some dodgy German translation this time too, I feel I’ve been letting the kids speak Common far too much recently.
Vollendet - Finished/completed
Kumpel - Dude/buddy
Offensichtlich - Obviously

Side note, I can’t believe Campaign Two is about to end. Only a few more episodes left to go as I write this. In fact, episode 140 starts in about one hour from now. As a Brit Critter, I’ll be watching tomorrow instead, a whole extra day of wondering if there’s finally been a TPK...

"That's it! Finished. Done. Vollendet." Wulf grins, throwing down his pen and stretching out his back in the creaking library chair. "Now, what are we going to do to celebrate?" He asks, practically bouncing up and down in his seat with unspent energy. Astrid sighs, packing up her own pens and newly finished assignment.

Bren doesn’t even glance up from his book, replying disinterestedly. "You want to celebrate finishing an assignment?"

"Of course I do. And so do you my friend."

Bren raises an eyebrow. "Nein. I'm ok actually. But you knock yourself out kumpel."

"Boring!" Wulf complains loudly, earning a glare from the half-elf librarian sitting straight backed behind her desk beside the door. She lowers her glasses on her nose, staring at him over the rims before pushing them back up with a loud, haughty sniff and getting back to her work.

"What do librarians actually do?" Astrid asks distractedly, frowning at the oblivious woman. "All this time I’ve spent in the library and I still can’t work it out. I mean, they check books out, check them back in, put them away... she’s been scratching that pen over that same piece of paper for hours, what can she possibly be writing..?"

She jumps as Wulf's head impacts the surface of the table with a loud thunk. "Nerds..." he whines, voice muffled against the wood.

"Actually," Bren says, pointedly ignoring Wulf's display, "being a librarian is pretty difficult. They have to have a wide knowledge of the books on offer and the subjects they cover so that they can direct people to the correct area and give recommendations on request."

"Wulf, are you ok?" Astrid asks as he groans, head still on the table.

"In a place like this," Bren continues, "that’s quite a challenge given the specialist nature of the reading material available."

"Enough already!" Wulf cries, sitting up abruptly. "Who gives a fuck about fucking librarians? I am going dancing. Are you coming, or are you both just going to sit here being boring all night?"

Bren smirks, closing his book and slipping it into his satchel. "You’re so easy to wind up you know. Obviously we’re coming, right Astrid?"

"Offensichtlich." She grins, grabbing her bag and following them as they make their way hastily to the door, much to the very obvious relief of the long suffering librarian.

After a quick trip back to the dorms to drop off their things and change clothes, they head to the dance hall closest to the Academy, a spacious but unassuming building with a quaint feel that reminds Astrid a little of Blumenthal. The common room of the Weißer Drache back home has a high beamed ceiling much the same, albeit nowhere near as large.

They take their usual table by the edge of the dance floor and order a round of drinks at the bar, the cheapest, well watered down ale on offer. The musicians are in full swing already, playing a string of upbeat songs and country jigs, a few of which she recognises from dances in Blumenthal, with the odd interspersed slow swaying beat mixed in.

Downing his drink in one, Wulf sighs contentedly and stands, grinning at them. "Which one of you is going to have me stomp on your toes first then?"

"You’re not that bad." Astrid says, with as much sincerity as she can manage.

Bren laughs as he puts his own mug down only half finished. "He is that bad, don’t lie."

"I am." Wulf shrugs unashamedly before grabbing Bren’s hands. "Well volunteered Bren."

"No, Wulf no... really? Astrid's better than me, you know she is..." He makes a half hearted attempt at trying to bat Wulf's hands away before giving in, knowing by now that there’s no point trying to stop their larger friend when he decides you’re dancing with him. Astrid laughs, having been on the receiving end of this fiasco enough times herself.

Watching the two of them struggle through the next few songs together, Wulf leading awkwardly while Bren tries to instruct him despite his growing amusement, she can’t help but notice Bren's cheeks flush just a little bit more than the exertion of the dance should warrant. The hall is warm, but with the doors and windows all open and a cool late spring breeze streaming in, it certainly isn’t hot. Had this been the first time she’d noticed it, she’d probably have thought nothing of it. But it isn’t the first time. In fact, the more she thinks about it, the more she wonders if perhaps the signs have been there all along...

She’s startled out of her thoughts by Wulf suddenly throwing himself into the chair next to her with a grunt and picking up her half finished ale to take a deep drink from. "Why yes of course you can have some of my drink Wulf." Her attempt at sarcasm is ruined by the amusement she knows is plain on her face.

"I’ll get you a new one in a second. Go give Bren a good whirl around the floor, he’s earned it."

She grins as Bren approaches, holding his hands out to her. "How many times did he stand on your feet?" She asks as she lets him pull her up.

"Only twice."

"Bullshit." Wulf snorts, collecting up his and Astrid's empty tankards on his way to the bar, calling back over his shoulder. "It was at least three times, I stopped counting after that."

Bren leads her to the floor as the next song starts, a waltz this time. "It was five times. A new record I think." He chuckles, altering his posture and taking up the correct position with only a little difficulty. "Are you ok? I kept looking at you while we were dancing, you looked deep in thought."

"You’re getting much better at this you know." She says as they begin to move. "Remember the first time you learned to waltz? You were so awkward and nervous. And look at you now. Like a pro, almost."

Bren frowns at her. "Changing the subject? That’s a bad sign. Are you worried about something?"

"Not worried, curious."

He cocks his head to one side with a little lopsided smile. "Curious?"

"It’s a little awkward." Well, now's as good a time as any... she thinks to herself, taking a breath before answering. "Are you in love with Wulf?"

Bren stumbles to a halt, another dancing couple almost bumping into them. Astrid immediately starts to move them again, taking up the lead with him following stiffly. Bren looks stunned, as though he’s been slapped. "Why would you think that?" He asis after a few moments.

"The way you look at him sometimes. You get a little flush in your cheeks, and you have this shy little smile. I’ve seen it directed at me enough to know that there’s something there. I’m not upset Bren, I just want to know."

He clears his throat, looking down at his feet pensively. "I... I don’t love him, not like that anyway. I just... sort of..."

She smiles. "You fancy him."

Bren winces. "Yes. I’m sorry."

"Why? You can’t help how you feel."

"I would never act on it." He says earnestly, holding her a little tighter.

She rises up mid-step to press a quick kiss to his lips with a smile. "I trust you. I take it he has no clue?"

Bren shakes his head. "No, or at least I don’t think so. But if you’ve noticed, it’s possible he has too. He’s not said anything anyway."

"Do you want to tell him? I wouldn't mind if you did."

"No!" Bren laughs. "His ego is big enough as it is. Thank you though."

"What for?"

"Being ok with it. Being supportive. Just being you really." He pulls her closer and kisses her, managing to keep in time to the steady rising and falling steps despite them both being momentarily distracted when the kiss deepens briefly. They break apart so as not to crash into any other couples, but stay as close as they can to each other, noses brushing together. When the waltz finishes they stay on the floor for the next dance, a much livelier jig this time.

When they finally return back to the table, both are in need of a rest and a drink, and are glad to find that Wulf has got another round in for all of them while they were away.

"What were you two talking about up there?" He asks curiously, looking between the two of them as they drink. "You looked like you were going to pass out at one point Bren."

Astrid splutters as she chokes on her ale, coughing as she laughs. "We need to be getting back soon, or Matron will be on the warpath."

"We’ve time for one more, and besides, we're not leaving till I’ve had the chance to step on your toes as well." Wulf grins, holding out his hand for her to take.

She sighs, but gets up anyway. "Fine. But I’m leading."

*********************

The rest of the week trundles on as slowly as it always seems to now, still learning, still wrapped up in the fascination that their regular classes have to offer, but it all seems almost dull compared to their lessons with Master Ikithon. As though they’re always waiting for the last two days of the week when those sessions take place, and for their too brief trips to Vergessen.

When Conthsen afternoon finally rolls around, they head eagerly to Master Ikithon's classroom, excited to see what he has in store for them this time. Their joy, however, is short lived.

When they arrive, Master Ikithon is perched on the edge of the desk, arms folded across the front of his long red and gold robes, expression stern.

"You handed in assignments earlier this week discussing the application of the physical sciences in understanding spell mechanics." He states, voice quiet and unnervingly calm. The three of them nod nervously. He studies them for what seems like an age before slowly rising to turn away, walking to the window behind the desk and looking out over Rexxentrum. They glance at each other nervously, trying not to shuffle their feet.

"I told you, when we began these lessons, that I expected your very best. So far you have all delivered. So imagine my disappointment, Bren, when I read your essay yesterday and found it severely lacking."

Astrid's eye widen in shock, turning her head to look at Bren beside her. He looks just as surprised, mouth open as though trying to form words. "My essay, sir?" He manages eventually.

Master Ikithon turns, pivoting slowly with his hands clasped neatly behind his back. "Indeed. You were instructed to consider a range of scientific principles and discuss their importance and application. Instead, you focussed only on what you found most interesting. What you wrote was good, but it was not what I asked for."

Bren looks at their mentor as though his whole world has just collapsed. "I am sorry Master Ikithon." He says quietly.

Master Ikithon nods once curtly before sitting in the chair behind the desk, fingers steepled in front of him. "I do not take failure lightly. Some would call me harsh, but in my view, harsh would be allowing talented young minds such as your own to fall into bad habits. You have too much potential, too much promise, for me to be kind. You will remain here instead of going to Vergessen with the rest of us. Attend your usual classes for the rest of the day and rewrite that essay. Have it ready for me by the time we return tomorrow afternoon. Off you go."

Astrid watches as Bren swallows hard. He gives a little bow of respect to Master Ikithon before walking out of the classroom and closing the door behind him.

***************

The trip to Vergessen is strange without Bren. They have their usual classes and trip to the labs to work on their assigned projects, but there’s a tension in the air, and the empty seat between she and Eadwulf only serves to exacerbate it. Vergessen just doesn’t feel right without him there.

Finally, Master Ikithon dismisses them for free study in the library before dinner and she gets a chance to process the events of the afternoon. As soon as they reach the small library and close the door she lets out a great sigh, shoulders slumping.

Wulf immediately envelopes her in one of his trademark bone crushing hugs, and she snuggles into his chest gladly. "Danke."

"You looked like you needed it. I do too." He says with a sigh of his own. "It feels wrong us being here without him."

"I keep thinking I should have stayed at the Academy with him. Which is ridiculous, I know. He wouldn’t want that anyway. Sometimes I feel like some pathetic idiot from a terrible romance novel."

Wulf laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest under her ear, though it lacks his usual mirth. "You’re many things Astrid, but a pathetic idiot isn’t one of them."

"And never will be." She says determinedly. "I sort of get them a bit more now though, the romance novel idiots. I really miss him."

"Aww..."

"Don’t say aww." She tuts, cutting him off. "It’s only been a few hours Wulf. I used to laugh at people who missed their partners after only a few hours apart, now I’m one of them…"

Wulf hugs her tighter before pulling away enough to look down at her. "You know why though don’t you?"

"Enlighten me." She says sulkily, expecting a sarcastic comment to follow.

"It’s because you’re worried about him. You know how bad he must be feeling, and you want to comfort him but can’t."

Looking up him, she nods sadly. "You’re very perceptive. Sometimes anyway."

"Thanks. I think..?"

"He must be feeling awful. He takes criticism hard at the best of times, but from Master Ikithon it’ll be killing him. None of us want to disappoint him, but Bren most of all. He looked so upset when he told him to go. And on top of that, he has that whole essay to write in one night without us there for moral support."

"You know what Bren is like. He’s probably halfway through it already." Wulf says with a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "He’ll be ok Astrid. Come on, let’s get reading. It’ll take our minds off of things, at least for a while. He wouldn’t want us to worry, or to squander our time here."

****************

That night, Astrid struggles to sleep. She can't stop thinking about Bren, probably still up writing on his own in his chilly dorm. Alone in her large, empty bed miles away, the thought makes her stomach churn. Ever since that first night they stayed at Vergessen they’ve been sharing her bed. Being in it without him only exacerbates the fact that he's so far away.

Eventually, well past midnight, she throws off the covers, grabs her robe and very quietly makes her way out into the corridor. Tiptoeing up to Wulf's door she winces as she knocks quietly, feeling guilty about waking him. When she hears his mumbled, "Come in." she peeks around the door, looking sheepish.

"Can I join you?" she asks quietly. "Even just to sleep on the floor. It’s too quiet in my room."

He pulls back his covers in answer, gesturing for her to get into bed. "As if I’d make you sleep on the floor..." he tuts. 

Immediately she feels a little better. Within minutes he’s snoring quietly on the other side of the bed, a surprisingly comforting sound after the unwelcome silence of before. It isn’t until she wakes hours later that she even realises she fell asleep.

Their morning passes slowly, both of them itching to get back to the Academy and check in on Bren. Master Ikithon seems more tense than usual as well, snapping at their lack of focus and quick to anger. It seems as though all three of them are relieved when the time comes to teleport back to Rexxentrum.

"Bren…" Master Ikithon calls as soon as they appear back in his classroom. Sure enough, the door opens and Bren walks in having been waiting outside, carrying a small sheaf of papers.

"I did as you asked Master Ikithon. I hope my effort this time will be satisfactory." He says gingerly as he hands them to the Archmage.

Master Ikithon takes them, nodding sternly. "I have no doubt it will be. Astrid and Eadwulf can inform you of your next assignment and the work you missed at Vergessen, you will need to catch up. If they can remember it, that is. They were intolerably distracted by your absence." He glances at the two of them, giving a long suffering sigh. They shuffle uncomfortably under his gaze. "Let this be a warning to all three of you that sloppiness in your academic efforts will not be tolerated. I will not allow such gifted minds to slide into obscurity and insignificance."

As soon as they’re out of the classroom Astrid pulls Bren into a tight hug. He embraces her just as fiercely, though she can feel as much as see his obvious weariness.

"Did you get any sleep at all?" She pulls back to get a proper look at him.

He shakes his head, stifling a yawn against the back of his hand. "No. I finished the essay just as dawn broke, but I couldn’t sleep. I just kept thinking about how I’d let Master Ikithon down… Don’t look so worried Schatz, I’m ok."

"I couldn’t sleep either for a long while. I had to go and sleep in with Wulf, it was just too quiet without you."

"She hogs the covers, I don’t know how you put up with her." Wulf says, giving Bren's shoulder a friendly squeeze.

Astrid tuts. "No I do not. You snore anyway."

"First it’s too quiet," Wulf grins, "then it’s too loud. There’s just no pleasing you As."

"Don’t call me As, you know I hate it." She grumbles.

Bren laughs tiredly, shaking his head. "I really missed you two. Even your bickering."

"We missed you too." Astrid takes his hand as they begin to walk through the corridor away from Master Ikithon's office.

****************

Astrid finds herself feeling more and more nervous about their next class with Master Ikithon as the week passes. They all finish their next assignment by the end of the weekend with little difficulty, but she barely sleeps the night before they're due to hand them in on Miresen morning, proof reading her piece of work over and over again. The others are just as nervous, Bren and Wulf obsessively checking their own work before the hand in too. She’s sure she could almost recite the whole essay off by heart by the time she hands it to Master Ikithon.

The three days between that and their first lesson with him are excruciating, but Conthsen finally arrives. They wait outside Master Ikithon's classroom together in tense silence, waiting for him to call them in and give them their marks, no one eager for a repeat of the week before. The idea of letting their mentor down makes Astrid's stomach clench. She can only imagine how Bren must be feeling.

"Come in." His voice calls eventually, sending a fresh jolt of nerves through her.

"I can’t tell if he sounds annoyed or not..." Wulf mumbles quietly as Bren opens the door and they file in to stand in front of the Archmage.

He nods to them as they enter, perched on the edge of his desk with a sharp, hawk-like gaze that falls over each of them in turn. Astrid feels as though he can see right into her mind with that stare. "Much to my relief, your assignments were all to a satisfactory standard this week. I was impressed, in fact. I asked for you to give me your best and all of you have done just that."

The sense of relief that rushes through them all is almost tangible, a week's worth of tension draining from them.

"As a result, I have made a decision." He continues. "I may be harsh in my punishments, but I am generous in my rewards too. So, we are going to begin to work on the spells you need to master in order to accelerate you towards your next level of spell casting. Your classes with me will be expandinG, you will now have four sessions with me here at the Academy every week, and you will be spending your weekends at Vergessen."

"Thank you, Master Ikithon." Bren has to clear his throat before he can get the words out.

"You have earned it." He replies, waving away the thanks. "You will also be moving out of the dorms to your own private rooms here. Those cattle sheds are no place to achieve the level of concentration required of one of my students, and certainly not befitting of your talents."

If she was shell shocked before, Astrid is stunned now. She realises her mouth is hanging open and shuts it so quickly her teeth clack together. 

"Now," he says with a crooked smile. "Collect yourselves. We leave for Vergessen immediately."

Chapter 30: For the Good of the Empire

Notes:

Warnings: Your usual Trent Ickythong warning applies, as well as an additional warning for torture.

After what seems an age of blustery, wet days and cold nights with frost still threatening, spring finally rolls into summer in Rexxentrum. The famed year round Zemnian downpours are fewer in number and ferocity, and the chill Rexxentrum breeze is pleasantly warm for a change. The swallows return too, screeching and wheeling through the streets as they bustle back and forth between mud cup nests snatching insects on the wing.

Astrid barely notices the change in season. Apart from the swallows. It’s hard to miss them, with half a dozen nests crammed under the eaves right above her window, their rapidly growing chicks striking up a racket each time they see a parent come close. Having a room to herself is brilliant, but she could definitely do without her new noisy avian neighbours.

Master Ikithon was right about the new rooms allowing them the space to concentrate better than the communal dorms, and they’ve certainly been making the most of that with the increased amount of work he’s been giving them. It seems to Astrid that all she, Bren and Eadwulf do these days is juggle classes, read textbooks and complete assignments by the skin of their teeth, with little time off to relax.

Well, that’s not quite true. Sitting at her cramped desk by the window, pen in hand, she smirks to herself as she thinks about the other stand out benefit to having private rooms. Matron still keeps an eye on them of course, they haven’t completely escaped the Academy's accommodation rules. But with their new rooms at the very top of a different wing of the building, after lights out Matron has little choice but to leave them to themselves. She and Bren have certainly been making the most of the privacy recently, spending most nights together and not getting nearly enough sleep as a result.

Worth it, she thinks to herself, glancing over her shoulder at his sleeping form sprawled out on her very crumpled sheets, his short auburn hair seeming to glow in the golden early morning light as though it’s aflame.

Finishing one last paragraph of her assignment, she decides she’s done enough work for now and it’s time to head back to bed for a while. She shrugs off her robe and clambers in behind him, settling against his back.

“I was starting to wonder if you were coming back at all.” He mumbles sleepily.

“You can talk, you didn’t come to bed till well past midnight last night.

She feels more than hears him chuckle. “Fair point. What time is it?”

"The bell at the Chantry of the Dawn rang six a while ago. I haven’t heard it ring seven yet." 

"Six?" He turns to face her, seeming to have woken up a bit now and looking concerned. "Are you worried you won’t get your assignment done in time? You know I’ll help as much as I can if you need me to, all you ever have to do is ask."

She shakes her head, smiling fondly. "It's ok, I’ve almost finished it. I just woke up early because of the bloody birds and couldn’t get back to sleep. You know how hard it is to switch off sometimes."

Bren grunts sourly. "Tell me about it. It feels like all we do is work lately. It’s wonderful, I wouldn’t change it for the world, but it’s so hard. It feels like it’s all too much sometimes, like I’m not cut out for it and I’m going to fail and let Master Ikithon down again. And then I realise that’s exactly why he’s doing it. He's pushing us so hard because he wants us to want to be better. Because he knows that we can be. He knows exactly how to get the best out of us, he’s a brilliant mentor."

"I hadn’t thought of it that way. He is brilliant. But intense." She sighs, tilting her head back in exasperation. "I don’t know how long I can keep this up for."

Bren takes advantage of the access to her throat, trailing kisses down to her bare clavicle. "We’ll have to find a way to relax you." He says nonchalantly, shifting his weight onto his forearms as he continues kissing downwards over her chest.

She chuckles, rolling onto her back underneath him. "What do you suggest?" As he continues his trail of kisses across her stomach towards her abdomen, she realises where he’s headed. "Oh. You want to try that thing Wulf told you about before?" she asks unsurely, raising an eyebrow and leaning up on her elbows to look at him.

"Mhmm." He confirms, nipping at the sensitive skin where her hips meet her thighs.

"It sounds a bit... I don’t know... weird." 

He pauses to look up at her. "I won’t if you don’t want me to. It just seems only fair since you do the equivalent to me. Wulf did say most girls really like it."

"I know Wulf has been having sex for two years already, and sure, it sounds like he’s had a lot of it in that time. But he doesn’t know everything."

Bren attempts to hide a smile by going back to kissing her stomach, but does such a poor job she catches it anyway. "Two years is longer than us. And he seems pretty successful."

Astrid rolls her eyes. "So he says, but what teenager have you ever known who admitted they were bad in bed? Pretty much everyone lies about how many people they’ve slept with, and they definitely lie about how good they are."

"I don’t." He says patiently, nipping at her hip. She stifles a gasp, glaring at his dirty tactics. He grins up at her cheekily.

"You don’t count."

Chuckling, he goes back to his kissing, edging as low on her abdomen as he dares. "Mura seems pretty happy with him. You’ve said yourself that she overshares." Astrid wavers as she thinks back to every horribly graphic conversation Mura has inflicted on her, and she has to admit, Bren may have a point.

"That is true." She concedes.

"We really don’t have to try it if you don’t want to." Bren looks up at her sincerely, his good natured teasing from before gone now. "The decision is entirely yours Schatz."

She thinks for a moment, then shrugs and lays back down against the pillows. "I guess it can’t hurt to try."

He buries his mouth between her legs eagerly, and Astrid quickly comes to the realisation that she should definitely trust him more. Even if it is Wulf's advice he’s taking. It's certainly a while before she thinks about the assignment again…

 

**************

 

When they assemble in Master Ikithon's classroom later that day they find the Archmage unsettlingly quiet. He’s never the most talkative of people, he has the knack of seeming able to say an awful lot with very few words. But there’s a clear tension to him that sets Astrid on edge. Bren looks just as nervous, and she supposes that’s to be expected given that the last time Master Ikithon looked like this, it was because his work hadn’t been up to scratch.

With a stern set to his jaw and a grim expression, he makes the necessary preparations and transports them to Vergesson, landing right outside the main Sanatorium building.

"You’ll be doing group study for the next hour or so instead of our usual lesson." He says dismissively. "I will be otherwise engaged."

Wulf steps forward hesitantly. "Master Ikithon, is everything alright? Have we done something wrong?"

The Archmage eyes them consideringly. "No." He says simply, before leaving them and entering the intimidating building alone.

"No? No everything isn’t alright or no we haven’t done anything wrong?" Bren asks exasperatedly when Master Ikithon is out of ear shot.

Wulf shrugs and starts in the direction of the tower. "I guess we’ll find out later."

Astrid takes Bren's hand as they follow, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "He doesn’t play games Bren. If we’d done something to annoy him I’m sure he would have just told us."

Three hours pass with no sign of Master Ikithon when suddenly Bren jerks in surprise, eyes widening briefly then frowning in concentration.

"What’s wrong?" Wulf asks, Bren holding up a finger to hush him in response as though he’s listening for something.

A few moments later he nods seemingly to himself. "Yes Master Ikithon." He calmly closes his book and begins to pack up his satchel. "Master Ikithon sent me a telepathic message, he wants us to meet him outside the main building as quickly as possible."

When they reach the Sanatorium, they find him waiting for them in front of the large, looming archway of the main entrance. Astrid's stomach sinks when she sees his solemn expression.

"Everything that you have shown me thus far has been exemplary, I am very pleased with your progress." He says as soon as they stop before him. "You have shown me that you are not children any more, and have proven yourselves worthy of my time as your mentor. Few people can boast as much."

With an air of his trademark flamboyance, he gestures for them to follow as he leads them around the side of the building to a discreet wooden door set into an unadorned rectangular frame. "As a result," he continues, "I have taken you as far as I can in your tutelage without making certain things known to you. Today will not be easy for you, but believe me when I say that I would not have brought you here if I were not certain you could handle it."

He raps twice on the door which opens promptly to admit them into a dark hallway seemingly without doors or windows, and lit only sparsely by torches. Astrid jumps as the door closes behind them again, revealing a guard not wearing the usual variation of crownsguard armour of those outside, but a strange dark tabard with an insignia on the breast that she can’t quite make out in the dim light.

Trent pays the guard no attention, leading them along the hallway a short distance to a narrow stairwell that’s even darker. With a flick of his wrist Master Ikithon summons Dancing Lights and begins to descend gracefully, the three teens behind him having to hold onto the walls to keep their footing on the small steps worn smooth by years of use.

After following the winding stairs for what feels like minutes, they come to a small antechamber with a heavy metal door and two more tabard clad guards stood rigidly to either side. They nod respectfully to the Archmage before one of them pulls back the door's three thick deadbolts, hauling it open for them.

The stench is what hits Astrid first. A putrid combination of ammonia, damp, rot and something metallic hanging thick in the air. She clamps a hand to her mouth and nose in a vain attempt not to gag, seeing the boys do the same beside her.

"My apologies, I should have prepared you for that." Master Ikithon says apologetically. "Here, these will help a little." She’s sure she hears one of the two guards give an amused snort under their breath as the Archmage passes each of them a handkerchief. She presses it to her mouth and takes a breath, the heavy scent of lavender oil on the material barely making a difference to the vile stink beyond the door.

If the smell was bad, Astrid could never have anticipated how much worse the visual would be. The long, wide stone chamber he leads them into is lined on either side by a row of cramped cells, their walls constructed of iron bars giving no privacy to the people that occupy them. And no barrier to prevent her from seeing the conditions they are being kept in.

The chamber is better lit than the hallway was, still dim but with ample torches suspended in the wide corridor. The light barely touches the rear walls of the cages, but she can see enough to make out straw spread on the floors, much of it soaked with urine, faeces and sometimes blood. Limp chains and stocks connect the prisoner's ankles to the bars, hobbling them so that they can barely move. One hangs from the ceiling by the manacles at his bloodied wrists, moaning pitifully. The others are strangely silent, eyes averted as though trying not to attract attention. She closes her eyes, feeling bile rise from her stomach and willing herself not to be sick.

"Master Ikithon, is this... are these the patients?" Bren asks weakly, voice muffled by the handkerchief.

"Goodness no. The patients reside far, far upstairs, well away from all this. This is a completely separate facility, it only shares the same building. These people are not patients." Master Ikithon looks at the people in the filthy cells, eyes narrowed in contempt. "These are no better than animals. They are traitors and enemies of the Empire."

Astrid looks again at the prisoners, feeling a stab of shame for feeling sorry for them. "What have they done?"

The Archmage begins to walk sedately past the cages, eyeing each cell in turn. As he passes them, the occupants shy away or turn their backs submissively. Some whimper, others begin whispering to themselves, Astrid even sees one man claw at his own face and begin to weep. "Perhaps it will shock you to know that there are those who wish to see our great nation fall. Some due to petty grievances and greed, others who hunger for power. Some who worship beings outside of the approved pantheon, or who simply lack the basic intelligence to see that without the authority of the Crown there would be chaos and devastation. Some hunger for a dystopia for their own selfish reasons, or for the benefit of foreign powers."

As they pass one of the cells, a disheveled and dirty half elf woman leaps forward, hissing at them like a furious cat. The three teens jump back despite the bars stopping her from reaching them. The woman laughs maniacally, stepping back with a defiant grin as Master Ikithon levels an admonishing glare at her. "Won’t talk." She growls. "Won’t talk, won’t talk, won’t talk!" Her words are muffled and hard to understand, and Astrid realises with horror on closer inspection that the woman's tongue is missing.

Master Ikithon pointedly ignores her as he continues on down the hall, and she quickly quiets and skulks back to the pile of rotting hay in one corner of the cell. "That one was part of a small group who plotted to make an attempt against the King's life a few weeks ago. She chewed off part of her own tongue in an attempt to resist giving up her co-conspirators. These people have very few morals and even less humanity. She’ll talk eventually, and she knows it." Behind them, quiet sobbing can be heard coming from the woman's cell. Astrid tries not to feel pity but can’t quite manage it.

"Is that why they’re here Master Ikithon?" Bren asks, swallowing hard. "To talk?"

The Archmage nods solemnly. "Part of my role within the Assembly is to understand the sentiments of the Empire's people. If the people disapprove of the Crown to too great an extent, there may be riots and unrest. The masses do not understand that there must be sacrifices sometimes in order to preserve the quality of life the Empire affords them. For example, they might react to what they perceive as taxes rising too high with demonstrations and mob violence, which in turn affects trade and causes economic hardship, which will only harm them in the long run. They don’t understand the delicate balance involved in maintaining a country, and so part of my role is to prevent opposition from gaining traction."

Bren nods his understanding. "You influence their opinions for their own good."

"Precisely." Master Ikithon smiles. "Hence my official title, Archmage of Civil Influence. These creatures are those who refuse to listen to reason or decency, who seek to plot against us. They are here so that we may learn from them the extent of those plots, and to aid us in exposing the networks of collaborators they seek to protect. Often they do the decent thing and talk without any persuasion being required. But a few require pressure to reveal their darkest secrets. Those few end up here."

"When you say pressure, do you mean torture?" Wulf asks, sounding as sick as he looks.

Master Ikithon grimaces. "Regrettably, yes. Believe me when I say it is a last resort and not something I do lightly. Through their own actions, they leave us no choice. The Empire and it’s people must be kept safe. If we fail, everything would fall apart."

He pauses close to the end of the corridor. In a cell slightly larger than the others, a half orc man hangs upside down by his ankles, seemingly suspended by nothing. His head clears the floor by about three feet, and with his eyes closed and breathing shallow, he looks to be unconscious.

"This one is part of a group from Rexxentrum who seek to make their stand against the authorities by targeting the Academy. My agents apprehended him, but we know that others are still yet to be found. He refuses to tell us who or where they might be, so you can see why our need is so urgent."

A guard stands inside the cell a few feet away from the man. Clad in the same dark coloured tunic, she gives a short bow of respect to Master Ikithon, before pulling a matchbox from her component pouch. Taking something from inside between her thumb and forefinger, she raises her hands toward the half orc with a quick arcane gesture and mumbles a vocal component under her breath.

The half orc jumps, suddenly awake. He screams, writhing in his unseen bonds and scratching frantically at his skin as thousands upon thousands of tiny insects appear around him in a dark cloud. Astrid stares wide eyed as they leave minuscule bites and stings all over his torso, which is covered only by one long ripped and stained section of what used to be a shirt. The bugs fade after only a few seconds, but when they do, she notices now that the skin all over his body is a red raw mess of scratches, sores and fresh bites. As soon as the insects disappear again, he sags in his bonds and begins to sob quietly.

Master Ikithon gives a nod of approval to the guard. "Good, good. Keep it up. Never let him sleep for more than fifteen minutes at a time. When he’s ready to talk, message me immediately. I can’t see him keeping this up for much longer, he’ll break soon enough."

The guard nods as the Archmage walks back in the direction of the heavy steel door. The three teens follow him, and Astrid has never been more glad at the prospect of fresh air. When they reach the stairway again, she lowers the handkerchief and takes a deep breath. The air here is damp and musty, but it’s a welcome change from the foul miasma of the dungeon.

They ascend the steps in silence, no one speaking until Master Ikithon gathers them outside a short distance from the building. "You dealt with that as well as I expected you to, which is to say very well indeed."

Looking at Eadwulf and Bren, she can see that they’re just as shaken as she is. Bren's usually slightly rosy cheeks are sallow, his eyes troubled. Wulf looks as though he’s still fighting the urge to vomit. She can only imagine what she must look like, huddled in on herself and close to tears.

Master Ikithon gestures for them to walk alongside him as he begins leading them slowly back towards his tower. "Perhaps you are wondering why I showed you such a place. I suspect you are clever enough to have worked it out by now."

"You want us to assist you with those prisoners." Bren states with grim certainty.

"I do." Master Ikithon confirms. Wulf closes his eyes, grimacing. "I assure you, I do not ask lightly. I know how hard this will be for you, but I know that you are all capable. More than that, you are capable where so few are not. You were chosen for my tutelage not only for your good grades, but for your aptitude. Your determination. Your resolve. You are special not only because you can serve the Empire with your gifts, but because you have the stomach to. You have the strength of will that most others lack."

Astrid's nausea returns with a vengeance, and she has to take a few deep breaths to hold her stomach as Wulf suddenly turns to one side and empties his own onto the leaf litter, holding onto a tree trunk to steady himself.

"Ah, never mind." Master Ikithon says consolingly. "At least you managed to wait till you were outside. Many do not."

They continue on toward the tower, Astrid feeling in a daze. She barely registers the forest around them as they move through it, or the fog that swirls around their ankles despite the sun that peeks out from behind the clouds. The images from the dungeon seem burned onto her eyelids, every time she blinks she can see the people in those cages, she can still smell the filth on her clothes and in her hair. The sounds of their cries and whimpers, that metallic tang in the air that she now recognises to have been blood. Tears burn at the corners of her eyes, but she swallows them down before they fall. Her thoughts turn to the man they saw last. To his plan to attack the Academy, her home. Her friends and fellow students. She finds, to her surprise, that she can’t summon any pity for him at all, only anger.

"The rest of the day is yours." Master Ikithon says when they arrive at the tower. "Take some time to digest what you have seen today. I know it is a lot to take in, but I truly am proud of you for handling it so well. You did yourselves and the Empire proud." He turns to make his way back towards the Sanatorium, pausing after a few steps and looking back to them. "In fact, when we return to the Academy, I will have a word with Matron. I know that you haven’t been as tightly supervised recently as you were when you were still sleeping in those cattle shed dorm rooms. But you are still under curfew, are you not?"

"We are, Master Ikithon." Bren answers, sounding exhausted.

The Arch Mage shakes his head disapprovingly. "We cannot have that. Like I said before, you have proven yourselves to be adults now, and adults do not require curfews. Your position as my apprentices should be treated with the respect and privilege it deserves."

Chapter 31: Better Than Them

Notes:

I was on track to upload this one only a few days after Ch30... and then I watched the finale. No joke, I slept for one hour that night and cried on and off for the next twelve hours. Not even chill crying, proper ugly crying!

Anyway, I hope everyone reading this is doing ok, take care of yourselves and please don’t forget to love each other, it’ll be Thursday again soon x

Dodgy Zemnian:
Liebling - Darling
Liebe - Love
Schön - Beautiful
Schätzchen - Baby

"It’s intolerable!"

Astrid sighs, unable to stop herself from folding her arms in irritation as Professor Bashere continues her rant, which is at least directed at Matron rather than at them for the time being. She could have chosen a better time and place though she thinks to herself, looking round at all the other students catching breakfast in the canteen. Most of them are at least pretending to eat while they listen in on the argument, others unashamedly staring and tittering in amusement. She catches sight of Ferdinard and his idiot fan club looking absolutely delighted with the drama.

Bren sits beside her, as irritated as she is by the whole thing, rolling his eyes as he takes a bite of an apple. Wulf on the other hand, isn't even trying to hide his amusement.

"You cannot possibly be telling me that you think it is appropriate for students to be completely unsupervised, getting up to all sorts at all hours, without any boundaries?" Bashere continues, hands on her hips as she practically glares at Matron.

Matron seems not to care about the other woman's irritation. She looks tired, defeated almost. It's odd, considering the number of times Astrid has witnessed her fiery temper over the past year and a half, even towards other members of staff on occasion. "What I think is of no consequence. Master Ikithon has ordered it himself."

"I am their Head of Year, at the very least I should have been consulted on any changes regarding their wellbeing! And this is only the latest upset, they’ve already been pulled out of classes all over the place, their schedule is hardly what you’d call well rounded. I appreciate that he has taken a special interest in them, but monopolising them the way he is... I’ve never seen anything like it. And I seem to be the only faculty member who's voicing any concerns. No one else seems to care, they just shrug, or worse, won’t look me in the eye."

"With respect Professor, Master Ikithon is an Archmage. He outranks all of us by a long way, and believe me when I say it’s best you remember that. If he says they’re to be unsupervised, then that is what they shall be." Matron says with a definite edge of nervousness, almost as though she’s pleading with Bashere.

Bashere carries on regardless. "Outranks me? This isn’t the army Matron, it’s a school! I don’t march into the Assembly whenever I feel like it and tell them how to do their jobs." Bashere turns a brief glare in their direction. "Do you know what I found this morning when I took it upon myself to conduct an on-the-spot inspection of their quarters?"

Bren groans, leaning his forehead on his folded arms on the table top. "Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it..." he repeats under his breath. Astrid swallows hard. She can tell it’s too late to hope for that.

"From your expression, I can imagine Professor." Matron grimaces, shooting an admonishing look at the three of them.

Wulf throws his hands up, affronted. "Why am I getting shade, it wasn't even me this time..."

"Moaning." Bashere continues, pointedly ignoring him. "Groaning. The distinct sound of a headboard thumping against a wall!" A number of the students close by burst out into giggles, Bashere silencing them with a look as cold as the grave. Astrid could quite happily be swallowed up by a hole in the floor about now. Though, that being said, this isn’t nearly as bad as Bashere actually bursting in on them earlier... "Sexual relationships between students are not permitted Matron!"

"Yes, I’m well aware of the rules Professor." The older woman answers dryly.

"Then why are you allowing it? Why are you not punishing them?"

Matron sighs. "Master Ikithon..."

"Oh, bugger Master bloody Ikithon and his rules!" There are gasps from a few of the students nearby, more of them stopping eating to stare openly now. "The last time I checked, Zivan Margolin was headmaster, not Trent Ikithon."

"Professor! Please keep in mind that there are students present." Matron hisses, looking about nervously as though her whisper isn't loud enough for everyone within a twenty foot radius to hear. She continues more quietly, Astrid only just able to hear. "My advice to you would be not to make a fuss about this. At least talk to the headmaster instead of confronting Master Ikithon himself. Please."

And with that, Matron hastily walks away wringing her hands in the apron covering the front of her stout wool dress. Bashere watches her leave with open contempt. "Oh I’ll be talking to the headmaster, you can be sure of that…" After a moment, she turns to look at the three of them icily. "She might not be willing to punish you, but I will. Astrid, Bren, come with me." 

Astrid rises to follow as the furious woman stalks away, but Bren remains seated. "We have a tutoring session with Master Ikithon this morning Professor." He says with a definite air of arrogance. Astrid stares at him, eyebrows raised. On the other side of him, Wulf coughs as he chokes on a piece of toast and nearly falls off his chair laughing.

Bashere stops dead and turns to look at them with the most contemptuous glare Astrid has ever seen anyone produce. Even her mother. She can’t stop herself from swallowing hard. Even Bren looks like he regrets saying anything. "Eadwulf, so good of you to volunteer to come along too. Bren, you have just earned yourself an extra hour of cleaning duties and a two thousand word essay on how to appropriately address your teachers. And if I hear even one more word from you, it’ll be five thousand words. Am I making myself clear?" She says, her tone eerily calm.

Bren opens his mouth to answer, stopping himself just in time and nodding instead. Wulf growls under his breath, grabbing a slice of toast from his plate to bring with him as he stands as well.

"Good. Come with me."

 

****************

 

"It makes no sense, there’s no age limit to studying here so what, you join at thirty and you’re just not allowed to have sex till you graduate? What if you go post doctorate?" Bren rants, pausing to squeeze out his mop in the rusted tin bucket they’ve been given. Cleaning toilets is a new low for them, even worse than the dishes they’re usually made to do when they screw up. "It’s not even like we’re just screwing around. We’re in a loving, committed relationship, and we’re being safe."

"Not that there’s anything wrong with just screwing around…" she hears Wulf say under his breath.

"Age isn’t exactly a foolproof requirement, there’s a big difference between a thirty year old human and a thirty year old elf."

"You know what I mean." He grumbles. "Besides, we’re different anyway. Master Ikithon has granted us privileges, Bashere should respect that. Even Matron basically said she’s being unprofessional."

Wulf laughs from inside one of the stalls. "I dare you to say that to her face next time you see her. How many words do you think that essay will be?"

Bren grins, slopping the mop back down on the floor with a splash, cursing under his breath when he gets a few drips on his trousers. They clean together in silence for a few minutes before he speaks up again. "You know the best way we could get revenge on her Astrid?"

"How?"

He stops mopping to look her up and down appreciatively. "Have sex during the punishment for having sex."

"I’m literally right here guys." Wulf sighs.

"We have to do the hallway after this anyway, you can go make a start. We won’t be long." Bren winks at her.

Astrid bursts out laughing, throwing a damp cloth at him. He ducks just in time for it to miss his face. "That’s a great plan and all Liebling but we’re in the first year bathroom. I do have some standards."

"Fair point." He grimaces. "I think I saw something move in one of the stalls earlier."

"I rest my case."

"You what!?" Wulf bursts out of the stall he was cleaning, looking behind him in concern. "What did you see?" He scratches at his arms sub-consciously.

"And here was I thinking we had a class scheduled this morning..." The three of them jump, turning to face the door as Master Ikithon enters. "I am rather disappointed that you would prefer to clean toilets, it's somewhat beneath you."

Bren puts down his mop and straightens his rumpled clothing, clearing his throat embarrassedly. "We were sent here for punishment Master Ikithon, by Professor Bashere."

"I am aware." The Archmage's initial mirth fades to a sneer. "She has been spoken to. Headmaster Margolin was not best pleased at having his morning interrupted by such paltry matters. She should not bother you again."

"Has she been fired?" Astrid asks, wringing out her cloth and leaving it beside the sinks.

Master Ikithon smiles. "No. But don’t fret. I have it in hand."

 

********************

 

At lunch, they return to the canteen to find it predictably abuzz with talk of the morning's events. Once upon a time, the sidelong stares and blatant whispering behind their backs would have bothered Astrid, but when you’ve just had an Archmage put a professor in her place on your behalf, gossiping children seem a trivial nuisance.

"When you think about it," Wulf says loudly after finishing the last of his meal, "it’s actually pretty flattering that they want to talk about us. At least we’re interesting."

Ferdinard and Merinda glance over at them from their table nearby before getting back to their conversation, which is obviously about them.

"They’re just jealous. Don’t let them get to you." Bren shrugs, leaning back in his seat to read his book more comfortably.

"Jealous of you getting walked in on by a teacher?" Ferdinard sniggers, turning in his seat to look at them. "Yea, so jealous. Every time I think you can’t get any more lame, you go ahead and surprise me again."

"All that moaning Bashere mentioned was just Astrid hoping you’d be done soon." Merinda adds, the rest of the group of hangers on laughing. All but Mura, who Astrid notices for the first time had been sitting at their table. She’s barely seen her recently, but with moving rooms and their extra studies keeping them busy, she supposes she’s barely seen any of the other students outside of meal times or classes.

Ferdinard, obviously encouraged by his friend's amusement, sits up on the edge of the table, leaning back casually. "She was probably wishing it was Eadwulf doing her instead."

Bren sighs, crossing his legs at the ankles and continuing to read as he ignores the adolescent taunting. On her other side, Astrid notices Wulf lean back in his seat. His eyes are as cold as she’s ever seen them and with the tension in his shoulders he looks like a coiled spring.

Ferdinard doesn’t seem to notice, or perhaps just doesn’t care. "Maybe they share her. You three are weirdly close."

"Do you two have little races?" Merinda titters. "Whoever finishes their next assignment for Master Ikithon first gets to have her for the night."

"I hear in the country that sort of thing's pretty common. Except there, it’s a race to see who can plough a field fastest, not essays obviously since most of them can't read or write." Ferdinard laughs at his own joke as the whole table falls into giggles, but Astrid barely notices, focussing on Wulf and willing him to keep his temper.

She rests a hand on his arm. "Don’t give them the satisfaction. They're desperate for a reaction, just ignore them." He tears his eyes away from Ferdinard to look at her.

Bren puts his book down and sits up straight, finally seeming to notice how tense Wulf is. "She’s right. We’re better than them and they know it."

"Hey Astrid, which one's better in bed?" Merinda calls, snorting a laugh.

Astrid rolls her eyes, looking over at the pair of them with a withering glare. "Grow up."

"What happens if you finish the assignment fastest Astrid?" Ferdinard smirks. "Do you get the night off while they screw each other instead?"

Wulf is out of his chair so fast she and Bren are only just getting up as he lunges for the elf, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him up to stand almost nose to nose with him. "Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you."

Ferdinard sneers, squaring up to him. "You think because you’re Ikithon's pets you can do what you like? Walking around like you own the place just because the other teachers are too scared to stand up to him? I remember where you came from. You’re nothing, the dirt on my shoe has more class than you three combined."

"Wulf, please let him go." Mura pleads from the other side of the table.

He ignores her, adjusting his grip of the elf's shirt to pull him in even closer. "You've always thought you were better than us. Because of what? Daddy's money and his friends in high places? Where are they now hmm? Do you think they’ll save you from what I can do to you?"

"And what can you do hick?" Ferdinard laughs in Wulf's face. "Why don’t you show us all what’s so special about Ikithon's tutoring."

Wulf shoves the elf backwards away from him and lunges for Astrid's cup of water on their table. He begins to cast, drips of water squeezing between his fingers as he clasps them together. Astrid quickly recognises the somatics of Ice Knife. She grabs his hands before the spell energy can gather, Bren also moving to get between him and the elf.

"What are you thinking!" She hisses at him, shoving him back towards their table. "You can’t cast that at him, you could seriously hurt him." Glancing back at the other table, she can see all too well that Ferdinard and at least a few of the others recognised what Wulf was preparing to cast, or at the very least understood the amount of energy it could have produced. Ferdinard is perched on the table again, though this time his face is drained of colour and rather than arrogant, he looks utterly terrified. Merinda gapes at the three of them, Renna tugging desperately at her sleeve to try to get her to leave. Astrid just manages to catch sight of Mura already heading out the door.

The rest of the room has fallen silent, every student watching the exchange interestedly, most of them still oblivious to what almost happened. It won’t stay that way for long, she thinks to herself as she pushes Wulf into his chair, releasing his hands. The whole school will know by tonight.

"Calm down, I wasn’t actually going to cast it at him." Wulf tuts. "I only wanted him to see exactly what we’ve been learning. Just like he asked." He smirks at Ferdinard, giving an amused snort when the elf shrinks back.

Bren sits heavily in the chair beside him, looking at him in disbelief. "You think Bashere and Headmaster Margolin will believe that? You’ve punched him before..."

"Punching someone isn’t the same as obliterating them Bren." He says, rolling his eyes. "Who cares anyway, Master Ikithon will step in and it’ll be fine. No one got hurt, no spells were actually cast, no harm done."

Bren throws his hands up in exasperation. "That’s not the point! You know that’s not the point, why are you being so stupid?"

"You heard what he was saying! They’ve pushed us around since we got here, now we’re better than them and they can’t take a little of the same treatment back."

Astrid swats at his arm frustratedly. "There are better ways to stand up for ourselves than pretending you’re going to half kill someone!"

Wulf holds his hands up in surrender. "Ok, ok. Admittedly it wasn’t my finest hour... but the guy gets under my skin!"

"That’s an understatement." Bren shakes his head disappointedly.

Wulf smirks. "You look like your father when he found you two in the barn..."

"Wulf! Stop messing around and take this seriously!" Astrid swats at his arm again. "You could be in big trouble this time, even with Master Ikithon’s help. We should go straight to Bashere, if you give yourself up it’ll look better than if they have to come and get you." Bren nods in agreement.

"I think... I think I may have to go on the run..." He nods seriously for a second before breaking into laughter. "You two worry too much. It’ll be fine."

 

***************

Four hours after they watched Wulf stride into Bashere's office and boldly announce that he’d had a minor disagreement with Ferdinard that had got a bit out of hand, Astrid and Bren have still seen no sign of him. The pair sit anxiously in the corridor adjoining their rooms, waiting for him to return.

Astrid glances over at the textbook Bren has been holding open at the same page for twenty minutes. “You’ve been reading that page for ages. Why don’t you just close the book if you can’t concentrate? Keeping it open like that will only bend the spine and you know how stressed you get about that.”

He sighs, closing the book and placing it on the floor beside him. “You know me so well Liebe.” Leaning his head back against the wall, he looks down the corridor at the stairs. “Do you think they’re going to send him home?”

“I don’t want to think about it.”

“It’s been hours Astrid. Could he have been arrested?”

“Please don’t.” She puts her head in her hands and rubs her temples against the headache she can feel coming on. “I can’t imagine being here without him. I don’t think I could bear it.”

Bren scoots closer across the floor and puts an arm around her shoulders. She leans into him gratefully as he rubs soothing circles over her arm.

A short while later, Astrid hears a distant thud in the direction of the stairs. “Did you hear that?” She asks, sitting up straight.

Bren frowns, listening. There’s another louder thud. “I think that must be him.”

“Or Bashere coming to tell us he’s been expelled?”

Bren looks as though he’s about to reply when they hear another, louder thud, and the distinct sound of a deep groan. They look at each other in alarm before jumping up from their seats and running toward the stairwell. As they reach it, Wulf appears on the tiny square landing just below, and promptly collapses against the wall with another groan.

"Wulf! What happened to you?" Bren moves just a fraction faster than Astrid, descending the stairs two at a time to get to him. He slides under Wulf's free arm, attempting to help him stand.

Astrid helps as best she can to move him away from the wall and slip under his other arm. "Did Bashere do this to you?" There’s not a mark on him that she can see, but he looks exhausted and he’s dripping with sweat.

"No." He chuckles, managing to right himself most of the way and keep moving up the last set of steps with them helping. "I guess I sort of did it to myself."

"You did it?" Bren asks, confused. "What do you mean?"

“Well in the first place,” he answers, scaling the last step gingerly then reaching over Astrid to steady himself on the corridor wall, “It was my choice to cast magic at another student in front of a room full of people.”

“True.” Bren looks at him curiously. “You’re accepting the blame now?”

Wulf shrugs heavily and starts to move with them again. “Master Ikithon said that it’s not fair to view the other students as our equals in these situations, just as they’re not our equals academically. He said it’s our responsibility to be indifferent to their immaturity and lack of control, because they can’t help it.”

Astrid nods in agreement, seeing the Archmage's point. “You saw him then. What happened?”

“Bashere immediately had a message sent to the Headmaster, who sent Master Ikithon because he was too busy. Bashere was furious.” Wulf laughs.

They reach his room, Bren manoeuvring one hand free to open the door as they steer him straight towards the bed. “And..?” He prompts.

Wulf sits on the mattress with a grunt, giving a relieved sigh as he lays down. “Bashere was depressingly predictable, ‘being better at something doesn’t make you more important,’” he says in a mocking imitation of her voice, “‘everyone is equal in this school, no one is better than anyone else.’ You know, that kind of bullshit. Funny, they didn’t give a shit when it was the other kids who thought they were better than us… Anyway, Ikithon told her to leave after a while. Well, he asked her to go, but it was definitely an ‘ok get out now’ sort of an ask.”

Astrid and Bren chuckle at the thought of that. “I bet she loved that…” Bren props himself up beside Wulf, lounging on his side. She hops over to take the space on the other side of him, leaning back against the wall. “Then what?”

“And then Master Ikithon told me straight, the fact is, we are better. And the others know it, they’ve always known it. He said he’s seen it over and over, the ones who get picked on are often singled out because the others are subconsciously scared of them. Anyway, he went on to say that regardless, there’s a right way to deal with those people and I overstepped. My reaction was disappointing because it showed a lack of discipline and control, and that’s vital for his students. So he’s going to work with me to help me improve it. Actually he said it’s something we're all going to need to work on, but I need it more urgently. Hence,” he gestures down at himself, “this hot mess.”

Astrid shakes her head. “What did he do?”

“He had me run around the Academy. Three times.”

She and Bren gape. “Three times! What the entire campus? I hope he doesn’t expect us to do that too because I would actually die.” Bren looks genuinely concerned. But then she supposes he never has been all that much of a runner...

“The whole campus.” Wulf nods proudly. “But the point isn’t the running. It’s the mental strength it makes you find. I wanted to stop so many times but I kept on hearing what he said about perseverance and control, and about disappointing him, and it made me push myself harder. So sure, I’m exhausted. My blisters have blisters, and I’m sweating so much I’m not sure there’s any water actually left inside my body. But I feel amazing, because I did it. I proved myself to him. And he was so pleased with the effort I put in... He said he was proud of me. It was well worth the pain, I promise you.”

Astrid can understand that on some level. That feeling when they make him proud, when they excel at something, that feeling is wonderful. "Well done Wulf. But just so you know, you absolutely stink."

"You really do." Bren chuckles, screwing up his nose.

Eadwulf bends his head down to take a deep sniff of his armpit. "Yea, I do. You know what I need?"

"A bath." Astrid says distractedly as she stretches, still stiff after sitting on the floor in the hallway for so long.

"Ja. But first, a big hug." He grins, grabbing her and Bren in an arm each and pulling them in close, pressing them tight against his chest on either side. Despite their loud protests and attempts to get away, they can’t help but laugh. Astrid gives up and snuggles into him after a moment, Bren taking a little longer but doing the same eventually.

"You’re an ass hole Wulf." She sighs contentedly.

"I know." He smirks, pressing a kiss first to her forehead, then to Bren's. "But you love me anyway."

 

**************

 

The next morning at breakfast, the three are having a lively debate about which school of magic is the best when Mura walks past their table. Astrid notes immediately that she looks pensive, almost as though she’s trying her best not to be noticed.

"Hey Schön! Come and join us. I’ve barely seen you recently, I’ve missed you." Wulf smiles up at her from his seat, reaching for her hand. Mura flinches away from him, looking down at her feet. Wulf's smile falters. "What’s wrong? Is this because of yesterday? Because that was just a misunderstanding, it was nothing Schätzchen…"

"It wasn’t nothing Eadwulf, it was awful."

"I’m sorry Mura. Things just got out of hand, it won’t happen again. Let me take you out dancing tonight to make it up to you." He manages a smile, but it's strained. Astrid can tell he’s worried.

Mura looks around nervously before taking a deep breath. "It’s over Wulf."

"What? Why? I know I haven’t been around as much lately, but I can put more effort in." He stands up from his seat and goes to take her hand again. She yanks it back, taking a step away. "Please Mura. Please just give me a chance to explain…"

"This isn’t just because you’ve been busy. It's because…" she looks down at her feet nervously, and when she finally looks up at him her eyes are filled with tears. "I can’t be with someone who scares me."

Wulf looks stunned. "You’re scared of me? Because of yesterday? Mura, I was never going to actually finish casting that spell. You know me, I would never…"

"I used to think I knew you." She cuts in tearfully. With a sniff, she wipes a stray tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. "But you’re different now. You all are."

Wulf swallows hard. "There’s nothing I can say that will make you change your mind is there?" Mura shakes her head before hurrying away to sit at a table on the far side of the room where Renna and Merinda sit watching the three of them warily.

"I’m sorry Wulf." Astrid says, reaching to take his hand. He tries in vain to keep it together but she can see he’s close to tears.

Bren stands up to go to him. "Don’t. I need to be by myself." Wulf rasps, before striding out into the hallway.

"Should we go after him?" She asks as Bren sits back down.

He shakes his head, eyes trained on the doorway. "Let’s give him some time."

As Astrid picks at the rest of her breakfast, she wonders what Mura meant when she said they’d changed. She thinks back to how they used to be when they first came to the Academy, new to the city, bullied relentlessly and floundering. Things were better when they found each other, but they were still way out of their depth.

Since Master Ikithon's tutoring began, she supposes they have changed. They’re more focussed on work now, more confident in their abilities, less affected by what other people think. She supposes that comes from knowing they’re doing such important work, that they’ve been chosen because they’re capable of things most people don’t have the strength for. It makes her immensely proud.

"If Wulf isn’t good enough for her now that he has something more important to focus on, if she’s intimidated by how strong he’s getting, then Mura isn’t worth his time anyway." She scowls at the other girl as she speaks, Mura seeming to feel her gaze and glancing over. Her eyes meet Astrid's for a brief second before she looks away.

"We have each other and that’s all that matters." Bren says, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Just you, me and Wulf. We don’t need the rest of them, we never have."

Chapter 32: Have Faith

Summary:

So, the C2 recap didn’t in fact blow my entire fic canon out of the water. Phew. Not that it matters because Caleb's official origin story being released in (I think?) October will burn it all to the ground, pun intended. But meh, I’ll be too busy enjoying it to care! What was revealed tied in with what I had planned with minimal rewrites so that was nice.

On the subject of the "plan", I’ve always been pretty loose on how long I thought this thing would end up being, but it looks like it’ll be done around Chapter 40. Plus epilogue.

Dodgy Zemnian in this chapter:
mein kleiner freund - my little friend
du groß dummkopf - you big fool

Standing in one of Vergessen's test zones, an area of pocked and scarred scrub land near the edge of the boundary fence, Astrid watches Bren gather his focus. Master Ikithon stands close by, watching him just as intently. Breathing deeply, Bren raises his hands in a now familiar gesture, and begins the complex and lightning quick sequence of finger movements to begin to cast.

Amber energy begins to gather around his hands like a swarm of fireflies, and with a few muttered words, a line of bright orange and yellow flame erupts from between his fingers. Astrid can feel the intense heat of it despite her and Wulf standing thirty feet away. Bren keeps his hands steady, his feet spread for balance, and the burst of fire hits its mark dead on, sending chunks of brick flying from the the charred test wall he was aiming for.

"Excellent Bren." Master Ikithon calls, approaching him as the flames subside. "Evocation suits you well."

Bren beams at the praise. "You were right Master Ikithon. I just seem have an affinity with flame. Astrid says it’s because of the colour of my hair." He glances back at her, cheeks colouring.

"You may well have an affinity with flame, but the talent is all yours Bren. You deserve the credit." Master Ikithon moves up to the wall to inspect it closer, nodding and seeming pleased with what he observes. "Your strength is growing exponentially. All three of you have excelled in today’s tests."

Bren looks down at his hands curiously. "I wondered Master Ikithon, I’ve noticed that my finger tips seem to be blackened all the time and no matter how hard I scrub, the soot won’t wash off. Is that normal?"

Master Ikithon wanders over, gracefully navigating the scrub under foot without issue. "It is simply a sign of your expertise Bren. Nothing to worry about, a badge of honour if anything." Bren smiles down at his fingers with a look of wonder and pride that makes Astrid's heart clench. "Come." Master Ikithon says, striding away over the rough ground back towards the Sanatorium. "I have a new challenge for you."

They follow him to the large main building and through the small side entrance leading to the dungeons. Astrid cringes, steeling herself for the barrage of smells and sights she knows awaits them. The same two guards are there at the heavy iron door again, wearing twin looks of thinly veiled amusement as they enter.

Master Ikithon doesn’t hand them handkerchiefs like before, but the difference is negligible anyway, the smell so rancid it makes her eyes water. Wulf doesn’t manage to hold his stomach this time, retching into a heap of soiled straw beside the door.

Master Ikithon ignores him. "Another member of the group who seek to attack the Academy has been apprehended. I would like you to interrogate him. Let us see how well he stands up to questioning by some of his intended victims."

Astrid and Bren stand in stunned silence for a moment. "Us, Master Ikithon?" She eventually manages.

"I know the prospect is daunting, but there's not much to it really. Your presence alone should do most of the work, along with a little encouragement from one of my assistants." He gestures to the far end of the corridor, where one of the guards stands to attention. "Remember, I would not ask this of you if I did not think you were ready for it."

"We won’t let you down Master Ikithon." Wulf says determinedly, wiping his mouth as he rejoins them.

The Archmage gestures for them to make their way down the corridor, gliding after them at a distance that makes clear he wants to observe rather than guide them. Astrid tries to cover the fact that she’s trembling as they reach the cell at the end of the row, the prisoner suspended by his wrists from chains in the ceiling. He tugs weakly at his bonds, snarling animalistically at the crimson and black clad guard standing just outside the cell. She notes that the skin at his wrists is a mess of red raw weeping sores, and his hands above the iron cuffs are pale and swollen, suggesting he’s been suspended there for quite some time.

That’s good, she thinks to herself nervously, perhaps that means he’ll break sooner. She immediately breaks into a sweat at how cold that sentiment is.

The guard opens the iron barred door to let them in, following behind and leaving Master Ikithon in the corridor to watch. "Visitors." The guard says matter-of-factly to the prisoner, who sneers at her with a look of pure hatred. "You’re going to answer their questions and behave. It’s best for everybody if you comply."

"Fuck you!" He roars, pink tinged spittle spraying all over his bare chest and the floor beneath him. He writhes in his bonds, kicking his chained ankles as fresh blood trickles from his ruined wrists.

"That isn’t polite." The guard chides, muttering under her breath. The prisoner's face contorts with pain as he screams, muscles going taut. It only lasts a second, but to Astrid time slows. As the sudden burst of pain subsides he goes limp. "These are the children you and your companions seek to maim and murder." She nods to the three of them. "He’s all yours. Choose your questions wisely, he might not be conscious for long."

Astrid freezes, her mind seeming to seize up. She can’t think of a single question to ask. She doesn’t know if she could even form the words if she could think of something to say. Bren looks to be floundering too.

"How many of you are there?" Astrid almost jumps when Wulf speaks, his voice deep and unnervingly cold. It shouldn't come as such a surprise really. In the weeks since Mura broke things off with him he’s been distant and dispassionate, focussed on his work to the point of barely sleeping. She and Bren have been at a loss as to what to do save from just being there for him. It’s as though he’s embraced the fear that Mura said she had of him.

The prisoner hangs unresponsively until the guard makes to step forward and he flinches. "A few."

"Give me a number."

The prisoner hesitates before answering. "Seven, including me."

"Give us their names." Bren cuts in, sounding almost conversational compared to Wulf. The prisoner's lips twist, as though he considers answering for a moment, before he glares at them defiantly and sends a gobbet of bloodied spit into the straw before their feet. Wulf nods to the guard who casts the same spell as before. The prisoner's muscles seize up again, mouth opening in a silent scream of pain. Only a faint squeaking rasp of air leaves his mouth, and Astrid thinks that's somehow worse than the scream.

When the pain subsides he begins to laugh, relief clear on his face. "I’ll never tell you. I’ll never give them up. Never…" The guard casts again, and this time the prisoner sobs and pleads for her to stop. The seconds feel like minutes, but again the pain stops and he falls limp, breathing hard.

Realising they’re getting nowhere with that question, Astrid wracks her brains for another. "Why the school?" She asks, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

"The school?" He asks, looking up at her with a dazed expression.

"Your group is planning to attack the Academy. Why?" Bren's fingers brush hers discreetly, offering some scant comfort.

The prisoner laughs again, throwing his head back with what seems to be genuine mirth. "That’s what they told you? If this is what they’re doing to the Empire's children, perhaps we should…" he cuts off in a gurgling cry as the guard casts again.

"Where do you meet?" Wulf growls impatiently. The man hangs barely conscious, whimpering.

"He won’t be awake much longer." The guard says dispassionately. "Wrap it up."

Wulf sighs in frustration. "You want the last thing you feel for a while to be pain? Answer my question, where do you meet?"

"Your mother's bedroom." The man giggles to himself. Wulf clenches his fists but Astrid is surprised to see him keep his cool.

"Pain it is then." Wulf bends his head to look the prisoner in the eye. "Seems to me, looking at this place, you're going to get quite well acquainted with pain before they break you. If only you’d answered us you could have spared yourself."

A look of terror flashes across the man's face before he snarls at Wulf, thrashing weakly in his chains. Wulf nods to the guard again who casts once more. This time the prisoner goes rigid for a moment before slumping, finally unconscious.

"You did well." The guard nods respectfully to Wulf. "You two, need more work." She smirks at Astrid and Bren. Wulf grimaces and turns, walking out of the cell towards Master Ikithon.

"Well done Eadwulf, you kept your cool and took the initiative with your questions. Astrid, Bren, this was only a taster to see that you could handle what we do here. You need to work on your assertiveness, but you did well to stomach it." The Archmage gives a grim smile. "It is not easy watching someone in pain, no matter how much they may deserve it. Take the rest of the day to decompress. Tomorrow, I will introduce you to a few new spells I think you will find beneficial."

They head back to the tower through a light drizzle, the grey sky and thick fog obscuring much of the surrounding forest and perfectly matching Astrid's mood. Her thoughts swirl and won’t quite form properly. Glancing at the boys, she notices Bren's expression is much the same as she imagines her own to look, conflicted and a little sickened. Wulf strides on beside Bren, eyes hard and focussed.

"I need you both to know," he says suddenly, making Astrid jump, "I would never be like that with you two. You know that don’t you?"

"You'd never interrogate us for plotting against the Empire? Yes I think we know Wulf." Bren tries at humour, but his attempt at a joke falls flat.

Astrid purses her lips in thought before speaking. "What’s been going on with you Wulf? You’re not yourself these days."

"Actually, I think I’m becoming more myself than ever. Mura did me a favour. She proved to me that the rest of them will never get it. It’s not their fault, they just don’t understand that the world is so much bigger than they realise. Me and her, it would never have worked out."

"So you’re ok?" Bren asks.

Wulf smiles contentedly. "I am. I know I’ve been a bit intense recently, but I feel like I’m really hitting my stride with Master Ikithon now."

"Maybe you can teach us some of whatever that was in the cell." Astrid smiles at him. "You were great. Terrifying, but brilliant."

"It’ll come to you." He grins back, looking more like his old self than he has in a while. "I just thought about what him and his friends were planning to do to the school and nothing else seemed to matter. It was as though in a way I didn’t see him as a person, just a threat."

"Astrid, how did you feel about it all?" Bren asks, taking her hand.

She grimaces, looking down at her feet. "I don’t know yet. I know that it was all necessary, it just felt so… unnatural, intentionally causing someone pain like that. But I guess that’s why Master Ikithon chose us. We're able to push through those barriers that hold everyone else back, so that we can do what we need to do for the Empire. It’s going to be hard, I just hope I can get there."

"You will." Wulf smiles encouragingly. "Hey, totally unrelated but I wanted to tell you, there’s a new woman in my life."

She and Bren exchange confused looks. "Who?" He asks, bewildered.

"I decided that I’m going to follow the Matron of Ravens." He reaches into the neck of his shirt and pulls out a small bird's skull attached to a black leather cord around his neck. "I found this in a weird little shop in the Court of Colors. It’s not a raven obviously, a blackbird I think, close enough. One day I’ll save up and get a proper one made. I’m thinking a raven's feather cast in silver."

"Hold up, never mind the necklace, where did all this come from?" Bren asks, looking as confused as Astrid feels.

"It is a bit random Wulf. You’ve never shown any interest in religion before."

He stops walking with a sigh, leaning against one of the moss covered tree trunks at the edge of the woods. Astrid can just make out the tower now through the fog. "You remember Master Ikithon had us do an assignment a few weeks ago on the geopolitical history of the Empire? One of the text books he referenced had an in depth analysis of the approved deities. It’s not my usual style, but it looked kind of interesting and I couldn’t sleep because of Mura, so I read a little. When I got to the section on the Matron of Ravens, it just spoke to me. One of her edicts refers to following the path of fate and staying true to your destiny. Our destiny is to become protectors of the Empire, and she’s really helped me come to terms with that and embrace it."

Astrid looks at Bren and shrugs. "Makes sense." Bren looks skeptical still, but continues walking towards the tower and doesn’t say anything else.

They find Elin in the entrance hall, the grim faced servant taking the trio's damp cloaks and looking thoroughly bored, as seems to be their disposition ninety nine percent of the time. The other one percent is taken up by knowing smirks they don’t even remotely try to hide. "Will that be all Masters, Mistress? Master Ikithon said you were not to be disturbed this afternoon so I’ve left your lunch in your rooms."

"Thank you Elin, that's all." Bren smiles cordially. Elin rolls their eyes and huffs off to the coat closet. "They like me, I can tell." He grins to the others.

"Yes, I’ve often found exasperated eye rolls to be a sure sign of affection." Wulf chuckles, ruffling Bren's hair. "So, what are we going to do with our afternoon off?" As Bren opens his mouth to speak, Wulf points a finger at him warningly. "If you say anything to do with reading or assignments, I will tie you up and hang you out of a window."

Bren frowns, looking affronted. "No you wouldn’t. But you have to admit it’s a lot of free time to catch up on work. We’ve all got that literature assignment due in a few days…"

Wulf hisses air between his teeth with a wince. "Did you just say the word assignment?"

"I did." Bren nods challengingly. "And because you’re not ten years old, you’re definitely not going to do what you said you were going to do because that would be immature and irresponsible."

Wulf grins toothily, and Bren finally starts to look nervous. "Oh Bren. That sounds like a challenge, and you know how I like a challenge..."

Bren raises an eyebrow, backing up a few steps. "Shut up. As if you’re actually going to try and do it…"

"Try!" Wulf laughs. "How big do you think you are? There’s no try mein kleiner freund, there’s just do."

Bren crosses his arms over his chest defiantly, standing still for a few seconds before turning on his heel to sprint up the stairs. Wulf follows, slowed by the fact that he’s laughing so hard he can hardly breathe, but still gaining ground. Astrid sighs, following the pair at a walk, not really feeling like joining in on the fun.

When she catches up to them they’re in Bren's room. She catches a glimpse through the door of Bren with his arms trapped by his sides as Wulf's arms encircle his waist from behind, both of them chuckling and out of breath. "Repeat after me," Wulf says, "I will not mention assignments when Wulf tells me not to."

Bren snorts a laugh, barely able to get the words out. "I will not mention assignments…"

"When…"

"…When Wulf tells me not to! Now let me go, du groß dummkopf!" He finishes with a squeak as Wulf starts to tickle his sides.

"That’s Master groß dummkopf to you." Wulf chuckles, Bren laughing breathlessly as the onslaught of tickles continues.

Astrid leaves them to it, continuing on to her own room. Kicking off her shoes, she lays down on the bed and hugs the spare pillow to her chest for comfort. Her lunch sits on a tray beside the door, but looking at it turns her stomach so she rolls over so she can’t see it. She tries to close her eyes but all she can see is the prisoner hanging by his chains, face contorted with pain.

She starts to wonder if she’s really up to this path Master Ikithon has set them on. The boys are next door having fun, and here I am curled up on my bed crying. She growls in frustration at the realisation that she really is crying, wiping at her damp cheeks crossly. She feels like a disappointment. Why should I care if the guy was in pain, he deserved it. Wulf did great and all I did was stand there like a lemon shaking and wishing it was over, she thinks to herself, sniffing as more tears fall. How am I going to do better if I let it affect me like this?

The door latch clicks quietly and she tries to dry her face, glad that she’s turned away from the doorway at least. The bed dips behind her, Bren's arm coming to rest over her waist as he spoons her.

"You ok?" He asks softly, nuzzling the back of her neck.

"Ja." She lies, proud of how steady her voice is. "Just tired."

His arm moves from her waist, fingers stroking her cheek as another traitorous tear falls. "Talk to me Schatz. What’s wrong?"

She sniffs, turning in his arms. "I’m so stupid." The bed dips again, this time by her feet as Wulf sits on the end of the mattress looking concerned.

"You’re not stupid." Bren kisses her cheek, pulling her close. "Today was a lot to deal with."

"I don’t see you two struggling."

"I hated every moment of it." Bren says. "I just want to block it out and pretend it never happened. The idea of going into that place again makes my skin crawl. So stop being so hard on yourself."

"I am fine." Wulf admits tentatively. "I didn’t enjoy it, but I'm not wasting empathy on a scumbag like that. I’ll save it for people who deserve it." He places a hand on her ankle, squeezing comfortingly. "And it’s not like we did it for no reason. Innocent people’s lives depend on that information, and if he won’t give it, we have to take it. It’s not nice, but it’s the only way to keep our people safe."

"I know," she sniffles, wiping her eyes, "but participating in it, it just felt so wrong. And that’s what’s really worrying me. What if I’m not up to this? What if I’m just as useless next time and I let Master Ikithon and the Empire down?"

Bren holds her tighter, and she feels the bed shift as Wulf lays down behind her, one large arm easily reaching over both her and Bren. She instantly feels a little better surrounded by them both. "You’re not going to let anyone down Schatz."

Wulf sighs behind her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You’re stronger than you know Astrid."

"And you’re not going to be doing it alone. You’ve got us with you every step of the way." Bren smiles encouragingly, eyes moving from hers towards Wulf. "We all have each other. That’s why we're going to be ok, just you wait and see."

Chapter 33: Pain

Notes:

Well! It has been a while! I stupidly managed to write this one, which took a long time because kids + summer holidays is not conducive to writing, and then got carried away writing the next chapter instead of editing and posting this one. I’ll try to post chapter 34 tomorrow, and boy is it a big one!

But for now, please enjoy chapter 33!

Well… enjoy is perhaps not the word. Obviously there is a heavy theme of abuse and manipulation in this fic because subject matter centres around it. But in this one it is particularly prevalent, and to be honest, will be from here onwards. Stuff is getting real as we head towards the end of this very long fic!

"No. Again."

Astrid's fingers ache from trying to make the correct somatic gestures over and over. A fresh wave of goosebumps prickle over her skin as she tries not to shiver too hard, but soaked through from the rain, she's so cold she can barely think straight. It may be summer, but the Zemni fields are famous for their sudden downpours and days that would be unseasonably cool elsewhere. Here at Vergessen, the weather seems even worse than the rest of the region.

Master Ikithon stands a few feet away, the rain breaking above him as an invisible dome of arcane energy protects him from the torrent of water. He stares intently at her fingers as she tries to make the correct gestures again, hands numb and shaky.

"Better. Again." He instructs, a glimmer of approval in his tone at last. Astrid steels herself, focussing. She blinks rain out of her eyes and makes the somatic gestures again, and again as he commands, trying to block out the cold and the wet. "Good, that’s enough." He eventually says. Her shoulders slump in relief, teeth chattering. "Go inside now and prepare for this afternoon’s lesson. Send Bren out here."

“Yes Master Ikithon.” She manages to get the words out, though her speech is slurred and clumsy with full body shudders wracking her. She tries to think of warm things as she makes the short walk back to the tower through the woods. The armchair beside the hearth at Bren’s house with Frumpkin dozing in her lap, laying in the sun singed grass with the boys on hot summer days the year before, wrapping her hands around a full mug of steaming cocoa. It doesn’t make her feel any warmer, but they’re pleasant thoughts all the same.

When she steps into the entrance hall and pulls the door shut behind her, Elin is there dusting the picture rails. They tut loudly when they see her, sneering at the growing puddle of water dripping from Astrid’s skirt and hair.

“I’ll have to mop again now. Upstairs with you, and don’t come back down till you’re dry.” They grumble, gesturing up the stairs with their feather duster. Astrid doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Bren is waiting by his bedroom door when she reaches the landing. As soon as he sees her, he ducks into the room for a moment, returning with a large white towel and wrapping it around her. Pulling her in close, he hugs her tight, rubbing her back.

“Me next?” He asks, kissing her damp cheek. She nods, sagging against him exhaustedly for a brief moment. “I’ll see you soon then. Wulf’s inside, he’s ready for you.”

She sighs against his shoulder, letting go of him reluctantly before he kisses her again and heads off down the stairs. Pulling the towel tight around her, she heads into his room on legs that feel as though she’s run a marathon.

Wulf looks up from where he’s crouched stoking the fire, short dark hair still damp and a loosely rolled up towel slung over his shoulders “You ok?”

“Never better.” She says, smiling weakly. He frowns, getting up and making his way over. Before she can even process what’s happening, he scoops her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest as he carries her over to the fireplace and sits on the floor right in front of the hearth. She shuffles in his lap briefly till she’s comfy, snuggling against his chest and clutching the towel close as she finally starts to feel the beginnings of warmth returning to her extremities.

“At least we know how to warm up afterwards now. And it never lasts long, you were only gone for about an hour.” Wulf says, staring into the flames.

“It felt like longer.” Astrid mumbles, glad to find that her teeth are no longer chattering.

They sit for a while in silence after that, enjoying each other’s company and the simple feeling of being warm again. Eventually she sits up, stretching out her back. "We should get ready for Bren. He’ll be back soon."

"I’ll get him a fresh towel, you go get changed into dry clothes."

By the time she gets back to Bren's room in a fresh skirt and blouse, he's huddled in a towel in front of the fireplace, head resting on Wulf's shoulder as the larger boy sits beside him with an arm around him. Astrid goes to sit on Bren's other side.

"At least that’s out of the way for today." She smiles, stroking his damp hair off his forehead.

They spend the next hour getting Bren warm and dry, and snatching a bite to eat before heading over to the Sanatorium to meet Master Ikithon. He stands before the main entryway placidly as they approach and fall into line.

"You did well this morning, I was impressed with your fortitude. You have all improved markedly over the past few weeks, so much so that I would like to give you the opportunity to assist me with one of my most exciting experiments." He pulls a piece of blue-green crystal from his robe pocket, holding it up for them to see. "Do you remember what this is?"

"It’s one of the crystals you were using in your experiment to enhance abilities. You showed them to us the first time we visited the labs." Bren answers. Wulf stands even more to attention, watching the crystal in the Archmage’s hand intently.

"It is. I am going to give you a chance to experience the grafting process and aid me in testing the amplification properties." He hands the shard of crystal to Bren to examine more closely. "I have been nothing but transparent with you during our lessons and this time is no exception. Grafting can be… unpleasant. I do not doubt that you have the stomach for it, nor the resolve, but forewarned is forearmed. Be steadfast, the results are well worth the pain."

Astrid's stomach flutters with nerves but she's growing accustomed now to hiding them. If anything, they serve as a point to focus her strength. She’s determined to beat her fear, to send it running and certainly not let it hold her back. Master Ikithon's lessons have taught them all far more than just magic, they’re learning to be better in every way, to overcome things that limit other people. She smiles in spite of the butterflies doing somersaults in her stomach, and squares her shoulders as they follow him into the building.

They go through the door to the labs but this time head up a flight of stairs to a long stone room they’ve never been to before. It’s largely empty despite its size, the only furniture being three sturdy wooden chairs with leather bindings hanging from the arms, and a metal trolley laden with various instruments arranged neatly on a red cloth. As she gets closer, she notices the tray's surface is coated with a thin layer of bright blue-green dust, the same colour as the crystals.

"Sit, please, make yourselves comfortable. And roll up your sleeves." Master Ikithon smiles reassuringly, closing the door behind them and making his way to the trolley. He removes a number of crystals from the pockets of his robe, depositing them into a metallic bowl.

Bren is the first to sit, choosing the middle of the three chairs. Astrid sits to his left, Wulf to his right. Master Ikithon strides over to her and begins to fasten the leather straps attached to the arms of the chair over her wrists. "Like I said, the process can be unpleasant. It is safer for your arms to be restrained, to avoid inadvertently causing yourself injury."

Once he’s finished strapping them all in securely, he returns to the trolley and selects a small scalpel. "Would one of you like to volunteer to be first?"

"I will." Eadwulf says quickly, eyeing the scalpel. Giving Bren and I time to back out, she thinks to herself, equal parts grateful and insulted. He always has considered himself the toughest just because he’s the biggest…

Master Ikithon nods solemnly and approaches him, placing the blade against his forearm a few inches above the wrist. "I will be making three incisions on each arm, they will take only a few seconds. Try not to clench your fists, you will bleed more if you do. And look away, focus on something else in the room, it will be easier."

Wulf nods and swallows hard, looking straight ahead at the door. As Master Ikithon begins, Wulf hisses in pain, jerking back in his chair. He immediately tenses, fingers shaking as he fights the natural urge to clench his fists.

"Wulf." Bren says calmly, though Astrid can tell it takes a lot for him to sound so collected. Wulf's head whips around to look at him, and he groans as Master Ikithon begins the second incision. "Keep looking at me. It won’t be much longer. Focus on me."

He nods shakily, trembling and breath coming in short pants, eyes never leaving Bren's as Master Ikithon works. It really does only take seconds, but it feels like an age has passed when the Archmage finally stands, inspecting his work. "Good. You did well for your first time. There is more, but rest a moment while I prepare the others. Bren, you will be next."

As he turns to replace the bloodied scalpel on the red cloth and retrieve an unused one, Astrid can’t help staring at the neat series of lacerations on Wulf's arms. A slow trickle of blood oozes from them as he rests his head against the back of the chair, sucking in breaths to calm himself, sweat beading on his forehead. "It looks worse than it is." He says, startling her out of her thoughts. "You've gone all pale. Just, when it’s your turn, remember to breathe, you’ll be fine."

It's even worse watching Bren go through it. Master Ikithon tuts as he strains against his restraints, whimpering breathless apologies to the Archmage through clenched teeth as tears run down his cheeks.

When her turn comes, Astrid stares straight ahead and concentrates on breathing, like Wulf said. The shock of the pain is so consuming she doesn’t even cry. She grits her teeth and concentrates on trying not to give in to the blackness that creeps into the edge of her vision. Her ears feel stuffed with wool, so she barely hears when Master Ikithon tells her it’s done and praises her for doing so well. As hearing and awareness slowly return, she rests back against her chair feeling exhausted, forehead slick with sweat.

"You ok?" Bren asks beside her, voice tense with worry.

She looks over at him and nods. "A bit dizzy, but feeling better already. You?" Astrid immediately regrets asking at the look of shame that washes over his face and the little shrug he gives in answer. She makes a mental note to talk to him about that later.

When Master Ikithon returns to Wulf's side, rolling the trolley behind him, Astrid watches with interest at the next step of the process. She winces when the Arch Mage inspects one of the incisions, carefully selects a crystal, and slowly inserts it in the laceration. Wulf cries out, gritting his teeth against the pain. Once satisfied with its placement, Master Ikithon swiftly moves on to embed a crystal into each cut, standing back when he’s done. Wulf breathes heavily, his own eyes now leaking tears. 

"How do you feel?" Master Ikithon asks, hands clasped sedately at his waist.

Wulf swallows hard before answering, voice rasping. "Sore. Should I feel something else?"

"Give it time." the Archmage instructs, continuing to wait. A few moments later, Wulf blinks, eyes going wide. "How do you feel now, Eadwulf?" Master Ikithon asks again, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Wulf seems to struggle to search for the right word. "Stronger."

Master Ikithon nods, looking satisfied with his answer. He steps forward, unfastening the straps to release Wulf's wrists. "Carefully, and without moving too much, try casting your Mage Hand cantrip, over beside the far window."

"I won’t be able to Sir," Wulf frowns, "that's too far away?"

"Try."

Wulf nods in acquiescence, moving gingerly as his fingers complete the simple gestures required. He stutters and gasps. "That’s not possible. It worked!"

"Use it to knock on the window." Master Ikithon instructs.

Sure enough, Astrid gasps as she hears the unmistakable rap of knuckles against glass, despite the window being at least forty-five feet away. Bren looks similarly perplexed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Excellent." Master Ikithon nods approvingly. "Good work."

He repeats the same process with Bren, and she’s relieved to see him cope better with the pain this time around, knowing how hard he'll no doubt be on himself about struggling before. His cheeks flush bright red, auburn hair darkened with sweat that plasters it to his forehead, but he barely makes a sound. She beams at him proudly, wishing she could hold his hand.

Again, Master Ikithon releases his arms and asks him to cast, this time selecting Burning Hands from the spells Bren has prepared. "Are you sure Master Ikithon?" He asks hesitantly. "The last time I cast a fire spell indoors I almost torched the library." He seems to realise what he’s said, cheeks colouring deep red again.

Master Ikithon smiles. "Yes, I remember that little discrepancy. Between you and me, I might have reacted the same under the circumstances."

"You would?" Bren says, surprised.

"Perhaps. Now, direct your focus towards the far end of the room and we all should be fine. I can deal with any unwanted side effects quite sufficiently."

Bren takes a breath and begins to cast, thumbs touching and fingers spread as he mutters the verbal component. Flame springs forward in the usual fifteen foot area she's seen before, but with an intensity that takes her by surprise. And Bren too, by the way he ceases casting immediately. Master Ikithon's smile deepens. "Cast it again Bren, and this time hold it for the full duration."

The burst of flame that springs from his hands the second time is even more fierce, the spell able to complete itself this time. The air turns uncomfortably hot against Astrid's face and she has to close her eyes against it and turn her head it’s so bright. The light fades and when she opens her eyes again, Master Ikithon has his hands raised, casting something that clears the fresh scorch marks from the stone floor and ceiling.

"That was very good Bren. With your own strength added to the crystals, there’s no telling what we might achieve in future experiments." Bren's answering smile, proud and slightly bashful, makes Astrid's heart clench.

When it comes to her turn, her focus turns inward again. The pain is excruciating, as bad if not worse than the incisions being made, but having seen the results Wulf and Bren experienced, she’s eager to try it for herself. She grits her teeth and concentrates on sucking in deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth.

As the last crystal is agonisingly slid into place, she waits to feel any change. And then it hits her, subtle, but there. A feeling that she's stronger, and strangely faster and more agile despite still sitting. A gentle magical pulse that gives her goosebumps the same way casting does the split second after a spell discharges it’s arcane energy. It’s intoxicating, and she knows despite the pain, she’d let Master Ikithon do it to her again to feel this.

"What short range spells did you prepare this morning Astrid?" He asks her, a finger pressed to his lips in thought.

The exhilarating thrill of power coursing through her makes her thoughts move so fast they’re hard to hold onto, and it takes her a moment to remember. "I have Thunderwave Master Ikithon. But, might that be a little loud, the sound will carry for quite a distance?"

"This room is warded to prevent sound escaping, no one outside will hear a thing." He unfastens her wrists and gestures further into the room. "Very carefully, move over there to a safe distance and cast, without disturbing the crystals."

Standing feels odd, her balance just slightly out of kilter as her feet move faster and lighter than she remembers them being able to usually. Standing thirty feet away, she makes the gestures required as gently as she can, wincing as the crystals shift painfully. The rush of energy that suddenly flows from her in all directions is far more powerful than she had expected, even having had some idea what might be about to happen. Dust and debris from the unswept floor flows outward to rest just before reaching the Archmage and the boys in their chairs, the two of them wincing at the loud crack of thunderous noise that echos through the chamber, rattling the window in its frame.

"Perfect." Master Ikithon smiles at her, gesturing back towards her chair. "You have all excelled beyond my expectations."

As the crystals are removed one by one, the feeling of power winks out in a sudden loss that deflates her. She sighs, wincing at the pain, eyes trained on the bloodied slivers of crystal as they’re laid back on the waiting tray. Master Ikithon hands her two rolls of bandages as soon as he’s done and moves on to Bren.

The lacerations bleed through the first layer of the white cloth she applies, but she quickly gets the hang of it, binding the cuts tight and layering up over the top of them. By the time she neatly tucks the end of the second strip of cloth to keep it secured, Master Ikithon is well underway with removing the crystals from Wulf's arms.

"You ok?" She asks Bren as he awkwardly tries to tend his wounds one handed. Coming to kneel on the floor beside him, she takes the bandage he’s holding and begins to wrap it gently around his forearm.

"Danke." He smiles gratefully. "I am. It wasn’t all that bad."

Astrid glances at him, immediately doubting his statement and finding a clear hint in his eyes that she might be correct. It was certainly worse than she could ever have imagined. And yet, the outcome was so much more than she had hoped for too.

She's just about finished wrapping Bren's other arm when Master Ikithon hands Wulf his bandages and pushes the instrument tray to rest tidily against one wall, striding to stand beside the door. "I want the three of you to rest for the remainder of the day." He says, hands clasped at his waist. "The process can take it out of you. You need to make sure to eat and drink well, and sleep well tonight."

It’s only when he says that, Astrid realises just how bone weary she feels. Stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, she moves over to Wulf to start bandaging his arms. "I will leave you to finish up, I have Assembly business to attend to. I will be back from Rexxentrum tonight, when I will give you your next assignment."

"Yes Master Ikithon." They say together before he teleports away with a brief static buzz of energy.

"Ok. So… that was fucking incredible." Wulf grins as soon as the Archmage is out of earshot. "Hurts like a bee sting to the nuts but worth it, don’t you think?"

"I can’t say I know what a bee sting to the nuts feels like," Astrid shakes her head in amusement, tying off the first bandage. "But yes, it was pretty painful. And worth it, I have to admit."

Bren wanders over to the tray, bending to look closely at the blood smeared crystal pieces. "I wonder what they are. How exactly they work? What I wouldn’t give to study these more closely."

"You’re not thinking of taking one are you?" Wulf asks, wincing as Astrid looks over at Bren distractedly, pulling the bandage just a fraction too tight.

"Sorry. You’re not are you Bren?" She asks, a hint of worry in her voice. "He’ll notice one missing and know for sure one of us stole it."

Bren smiles over, a cocky grin accompanied by an affectionate eye roll. "Firstly, I wouldn’t take something like this, I’m not an idiot." Astrid breathes a short sigh of relief. "I’d only borrow it." He jokes with a smirk. "Secondly, I’m fascinated, but I’m not fascinated enough to risk getting thrown out of the Academy. Like I said, not an idiot."

"That’s debatable." She huffs, focussing back on the bandage. She can practically feel his amused grin on her back.

When she’s finished, they gather up their things and leave, closing the door behind them as Bren gives a last longing look toward the crystals on the tray. Crossing the courtyard to follow the path back towards Master Ikithon’s tower, she resists the urge to grip her arms, the cuts beneath the bandages throbbing and sore. Bren winces, growling softly as his satchel catches on a hazel branch and bumps his forearm as it swings back to his hip.

Astrid grimaces sympathetically. "When we get back to our rooms I’ll get us some willow bark to chew, it’ll help take the edge off the pain. I always keep some around because it’s good for cramps."

"How do you know all this stuff?" Wulf asks, scratching at his bandages.

She raises an eyebrow. "I took medicine class, remember?"

"Oh yea." He says distractedly, grunting in frustration as he continues to itch.

After separating briefly to change into their casual clothes, the three reconvene in Wulf's room, snuggling up together in front of the fireplace on a mound of cushions and pillows. It’s become something of a habit for them, a chance to decompress and find comfort together. Master Ikithon’s tutoring is wonderful, but none of them are under any illusions about how tough it is.

Lounging with her head pillowed on Wulf's chest, with Bren at her back his breathing already even and slow in the unmistakable rhythm of sleep, she sighs contentedly, eyelids feeling heavy.

"You did good today Wulf." She mumbles, not quite fully awake.

She feels his hand come up to rest on her shoulder, a small chuckle rumbling through his chest under her ear. "You too Astrid. Sleep Leibe."

***************

Astrid closes her eyes against the brightness of the midday sun, vision glowing red as the light penetrates the thin skin of her lids. It’s not exactly warm out, but Blumenthal kids know to lap up every spare second of sun as summer turns to autumn, before it disappears behind a thick veil of cloud for more than half the year.

"You’re going to burn."

Well, most Blumenthal kids. She turns and opens her eyes to scowl at Bren, sitting nearby under the shade of a sprawling sycamore. The ornamental gardens of the Academy had seemed like a good place to spend these rare few hours of free time, but now she’s wondering if he wouldn’t have been more at home in the library.

"You’re just jealous. It’s not our fault you practically burn when it’s cloudy." Wulf says lazily from beside Astrid. She smirks and settles back down to sunbathe again.

Bren snorts. "I’m not jealous, I'm bored. How long are you both going to lay there? It’s freezing out here."

"Don’t be a wimp, this is tropical by Blumenthal standards. You’ve been in the city too long." Wulf yawns. "Read a book, practice spells, I don’t care, just do it quietly, ja? This might be the last sunshine nap I get this year and I don’t want you ruining it by whining."

There’s the sound of shuffling as Bren rifles through his satchel. "What crawled up your ass?"

"How often has sunshine coincided with us having free time recently?" Wulf sits up abruptly. "Just enjoy it."

"If I want to whine I’ll whine." Bren whines, before realising and adjusting his tone. "Go to sleep, please. Save me from your bad mood…"

"You put me in a bad mood!" Wulf flops back down onto the grass exasperatedly.

Astrid sits up with a sigh, grimacing at the two of them. "How about you both shut up?" Bren huffs, rolling up his shirt sleeves and working through a set of somatic movements she knows he’s been having trouble with for the past few days. That explains his mood then, she realises. That and lack of sleep after a late night tutoring session with Master Ikithon that turned into a punishment that lasted into the early hours. She vaguely remembers him flopping down onto the bed beside her as the sky was just beginning to lighten this morning, but aside from a quick comforting cuddle, she’d been too tired herself to ask him what had happened.

Leaning back on her elbows to watch him, she feels a little guilty. They’re meant to look out for each other, and as easy as it is to get wrapped up in their own problems, it’s important that they support each other so they have any chance of getting through this. It’s all that’s kept them going so far, they can’t afford to fall apart now. The stakes are too high, for themselves, for Master Ikithon, and for the Empire.

She’s about to get up and go over to him when she catches the sound of footsteps striding over the grass behind her. Looking over her shoulder she sees Professor Bashere making her way over, a look of warmth on her face that fails to hide the concern evident there. She’s been trailing them more closely recently, seeming to pop up out of nowhere to talk to them with annoying regularity.

"Afternoon. Enjoying the sunshine?" The tall half elf smiles, slowing her stride as though she’s just out for a stroll and hasn’t blatantly come over to see them.

Wulf sighs beside Astrid, grumbling his answer without opening his eyes. "We were."

Bashere seems momentarily taken aback but ignores his rudeness. "Well, I won’t keep you long. I just wondered how you’ve all been doing? We don’t see much of you now, your classes with Master Ikithon being so extensive." She can’t quite keep the distaste from her voice at those last few words. "What are you working on Bren? It looks complex."

"It is." He answers uninterestedly. Unperturbed, she moves over to observe him more closely, watching his hands move as if trying to work out what he might be attempting to cast. Astrid is about to lay back down when she notices the woman's eyes harden, and then widen with alarm.

"Bren, what are those marks on your arms?"

The pit of Astrid's stomach goes cold. Master Ikithon has never explicitly told them to keep their barely healed wounds covered, but it never really needed to be said. They know that his work with the crystals is top secret, that to be privy to it is a great privilege. A privilege they might be about to lose if Bashere learns what those scars are…

Bren startles and hastily rolls down his sleeves, but the damage is done. "It’s none of your business."

"I’m your head of year Bren. It's my job to look out for your welfare. How did you get those cuts?"

Standing up, he grabs his satchel and starts to stalk away. "We don’t need your concern Professor. We’re fine." Wulf finally sits up, glancing nervously at Astrid.

"You don’t look fine." Bashere says pensively. "You can tell me anything you know, all of you." When they all remain silent her tone becomes uncharacteristically desperate. "I know he’s hurting you. Please talk to me?"

Bren wheels around angrily. "He’s not hurting us, he’s helping us!"

"Helping? How is this helping?" She sighs exasperatedly. "You are all so, so clever, just look at what he’s doing to you! Listen to me! He’s isolated you from the other students, from the faculty, he’s manipulated you…"

"You’re manipulating us!" Bren interrupts, throwing down his satchel angrily. "You’re trying to turn us against him because you don’t like him! You’re jealous because he has more authority than you!"

"Bren Aldric Ermendrud, you will listen to me! All of you will! He hurts you, he makes you run around the school long into the night, stand in the rain until you can barely move from the cold, and that’s just the things I’ve witnessed! I can only imagine what else he’s done to you." Her voice breaks and she takes a breath, trying to collect herself but not quite managing. "That isn’t right. It’s abusive, and it has to stop."

Bren rolls his eyes. "You don’t understand." Bending to pick up his satchel, he begins to chuckle softly, shaking his head with amusement. "She doesn’t understand. Trying to make out we’re the idiots when she doesn’t have the first idea what she’s talking about." He says, looking towards Astrid and Wulf.

"Explain it to me. I want to understand." Bashere says calmly, and Astrid has to respect the woman's restraint if nothing else.

Bren sighs irritably, rolling his shoulders. Astrid has seen him angry before, but not like this. There’s something almost feral to him that’s so out of character. She begins to worry that he might say too much and compromise Master Ikithon.

"Don’t say anything. We don’t owe her an explanation." She says warily, getting to her feet. Wulf follows, dusting his clothes off absentmindedly, eyes trained intently on Bren.

"You want to understand?" He asks Bashere, ignoring Astrid. The half elf woman nods, expression blank. "We could sit in a comfy classroom taking weeks to learn what takes only hours with Master Ikithon, and we learn it better."

"Better?"

"There are too many mundane distractions in a classroom, and not enough discomfort to want to block them out." He pauses, looking for the right words. "When we’re uncomfortable, we have to really work to block out the distractions, cold, pain, fatigue, we learn to focus to the point that we can block them out enough to cast a spell in spite of them. It makes us tougher, better in difficult situations. How many of your students could do what we do?" He questions haughtily.

"Why would they need to?" Bashere asks quietly.

Astrid looks at Bren pleadingly as she catches his eye for a brief second, wondering if she should intervene. He considers his words for a moment, speaking carefully when he replies. "Because the real world isn’t all cosy classrooms and exams. It’s ok that everyone else thinks that, but we know better. People need to be guided, and managed, and protected."

"And he's not only convinced you of that, but that it's your responsibility?"

Before he can reply, Wulf strides forward and wraps a hand around Bren's upper arm, forcibly turning him and pulling him away. Bren goes willingly, yanking his arm free and stalking off with a small stumble as Wulf shoves him between the shoulder blades chidingly. "What the fuck was that?" The larger boy hisses as they leave. Bren flips him a middle finger and walks faster away from him.

"Astrid," Bashere says, turning to her. "It doesn’t have to be like this. You deserve so much better."

"You’ve got it wrong." She says, gathering her own satchel and turning to leave. She hesitates, turning back to the head of year. "His being hard on us is a kindness. He’s making us tough so that we can fulfil our potential. He cares about us Professor, he wants us to be the best we can be. You don’t need to worry about us, we’re ok. We want this." She smiles reassuringly, hoping the half elf understands.

Bashere looks at her sadly. "I understand Astrid. Everything's going to be ok."

Astrid frowns, hesitates again, then turns to follow the boys back towards the accommodation block where they seem to be headed. She gets the distinct impression Bashere absolutely doesn’t understand. The potential implications of that make nervous butterflies turn cartwheels in her stomach. All she can do now is hope that the half elf leaves things alone.

Notes:

As I've gone along on this writing journey, I’ve managed to compile quite a playlist to help me write. I think it's about time I started sharing some of the songs that have inspired many of the events of this fic.

Believer by Imagine Dragons has been a staple song that puts me in mind of the Blumentrio's rougher experiences at the Academy, but it feels particularly relevant to this chapter.

Chapter 34 is coming very, very soon. It’s written and ready to go, and fair warning, it’s a biggy…

Chapter 34: Light In The Dark

Notes:

I planned to split this chapter into two but I just couldn’t find a cut point that worked and so here we are.

This was also the hardest chapter I’ve had to write. Not least because in the C2 wrap up episode, Liam dropped a hefty bit of lore but left the details pretty vague. And I had absolutely no idea how to translate the new shiny canon into this fic. But apart from a slight crisis of confidence about 3/4 of the way in, it actually flowed pretty well once I got going and I really enjoyed writing it!

Fair warning, there is a little smut in this one. And Trent being particularly Icky, forced nudity, and plenty of angst too.

And of course, dodgy Zemnian cussing!
Geh fick dich - go fuck yourself

The three of them are silent as they wait in the corridor outside Master Ikithon’s office, barely even breathing for trying to hear what’s being said behind the imposing lacquered door. Astrid’s fears have been realised. Professor Bashere hasn't listened to their explanation, if the intense conversation currently being had between her and Master Ikithon is anything to go by.

It’s either very one sided, or Master Ikithon is keeping his emotions well in check, as the only audible voice since they arrived has been Bashere’s so far. They only catch snatches, but those are more than enough to know that she’s livid.

"…..Done to them!…" Bashere rages, making Astrid wince. "…isolated… children… the Empire!… Don’t you dare… accusations… stand by… I won’t!… will not let you…" The three of them jump as the door flies open, slamming back against the office wall with a crash that reverberates down the corridor. "This is just the beginning Trent, mark my words!" The head of year seethes as she strides out of the office almost at a run. She glances at Astrid as she passes them, heading off down the hallway looking agitated.

"Come." Master Ikithon calls from inside the room.

Astrid looks at the others, swallowing hard. Her blood feels like ice, stomach tied up in knots. Bren catches her fingertips in his as they cross the hall, a brief brush of skin that does little to calm her nerves but is comforting at least. She notices him give Wulf's hand a quick squeeze too. 

Perhaps he’s feeling guilty she wonders to herself. He probably should to be honest, but she finds she can’t muster any bad feeling towards him. They’ve all been under a lot of pressure recently. Wulf closes the door behind them, the three lining up before Master Ikithon’s desk silently. And then he makes them wait.

Minutes tick by, the only sound his quill scratching on the parchment spread out in front of him. He stands, rolls the page up, and oddly then throws it into the lit fireplace with a quick green flash. Coming back to the desk and sitting down, he diligently arranges his robes and steeples his fingers before finally looking at them and speaking.

"I have made it clear, have I not, that my research is classified and known only to a very select few people?"

"You have Master Ikithon." Bren says quietly after a brief hesitation. "I take full responsibility Sir, it was my…" the Archmage cuts him off with a raised finger. Bren looks abashed, staring down at his boots solemnly.

"Discretion is a vital part of what we do. When you were confronted by Professor Bashere yesterday, you demonstrated an apparent lack of understanding of the concept. Or, perhaps, lack of control was the problem."

The Archmage rises from the chair, folding his hands at his waist, tone remaining distant and unnervingly calm. Astrid's stomach flips. This is it she thinks, this is where he tells us we’re done here.

"I have considered carefully what to do with you all. For now, you will go to your rooms, separately, and stay there until I come to collect you. Use the time to think about your place here. And then, I will present you with your options. Go." He dismisses them with a wave of his hand, attention already taken up by another piece of parchment on the desk, which he picks up and begins to read. The three of them nod respectfully and turn to leave, quietly closing the door behind them. 

They remain silent all the way to the accommodation block, Bren eventually pausing as they reach the top floor landing. “I’m so sorry. I dragged you into this, I opened my big mouth to Bashere, not you. It’s all my fault.”

Astrid and Eadwulf look at him, his eyes brimming with unshed tears and looking eaten up with guilt. They move together to hug him, and it feels the most natural thing in the world.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Wulf says, tone soothing. He presses a kiss against the shorter boy’s temple. “Either one of us could have stopped you sooner, we’re all to blame.”

Astrid nods against Bren’s chest. “We’re in this together. Whatever happens to you happens to us all, and that's exactly how it should be.”

Bren brings his arms around them both and they stand there for a long moment taking comfort in each other, knowing they have to separate and spend the next few hours alone with just their own thoughts for company. Alone time used to be something of a luxury once, back when they lived with parents determined to interfere and shared dorms with people they didn’t really like. Now, being alone is just lonely. Astrid never feels comfortable being on her own for long, and she’s noticed recently the feeling is only partly tempered by having Bren with her. If Wulf isn’t there too, something just doesn’t feel right.

"Alright." Bren sighs. "I love you both. Hopefully he won’t keep us waiting too long."

Astrid thinks that’s optimistic, but she smiles and says, "Love you too. See you soon," and heads to her room before the others can see the tears welling up. She leans against the door for a second with a hand over her mouth to muffle the gasping sob she can’t quite stop from escaping. She cries more now than she used to, she notes. Master Ikithon says emotion is just a sign of how badly you want something, and she can’t really argue with that.

Silent hours tick by, marked by the passage of the cloud diluted sun making faint shadows move agonisingly slowly across her room, first one side, then the other as morning gives way to afternoon, and then to evening. She starts by reading, getting up every now and then to stretch her legs. Eventually she realises she’s not taking in any of the words any more, and gives over to pacing instead, too full of nervous energy to sit still. There are nine steps between the door and the window she discovers, and counting her trips up and down it doesn’t take her long to reach a thousand steps. Two thousand. Three thousand…

With a growling sigh she leans on the windowsill, picking at a loose splinter in the frame where the varnish has chipped away. The pane mists with her breath, indicating how cool it is outside, autumn having arrived in the city. She can almost convince herself it’s a good thing she’s stuck indoors today avoiding the cold and the wind that seems to have been picking up as the day goes on.

The bells at the Chantry of the Dawn have not long tolled eight when she hears a distant clicking sound. Her stomach growls, protesting at not having eaten since breakfast, and she shushes it without thinking as she rushes to the door, hoping it’s what she thinks it is. Sure enough, pressing her ear to the wood reveals muffled footsteps coming up the stairs.

She stands back, wringing her hands nervously. This is it. Her relief at the isolation being over is short lived. Is Master Ikithon about to tell them they’re going home, banished from the Academy and their newfound duty to the Empire in his service? What purpose will her life have if not this? How could she bear to go back to Blumenthal with nothing to show for her time here?

"Out you come." Master Ikithon’s voice makes her jump when it sounds from the hallway. She hears Bren and Wulf's doors open, their footsteps shuffling out into the corridor. Swallowing down rising fear, she fumbles the latch open and steps out as well.

"Follow me. In silence." Is all he says before turning and striding away down the hall. With a glance at each other, they follow as instructed.

On the way through the accommodation block they pass their old dormitory corridors, many of their former classmates milling about making their last preparations before bed, moving between rooms giggling and roughhousing before Matron calls quiet time, the hour before lights out. Astrid spots Ferdinard and Marinda deep in conversation, falling silent as they watch the three of them trailing the Archmage. Wulf pointedly ignores Mura as they pass her. She watches them sadly before scurrying into her dorm and closing the door.

The sound of low gossip follows them down the stairs as soon as they’re deemed to be far enough away. At the bottom of the stairs they meet Matron, who gives a start, followed by a respectful nod and a hushed "Good evening Archmage." Astrid can’t help noticing that she very deliberately avoids eye contact with the three of them.

They’ve all heard we’re being punished, she worries to herself, or perhaps they know we’re being sent home?

Master Ikithon leads them outside towards the main academic buildings, and seems to be heading for his office, not unexpectedly. But once inside, he makes a turn that surprises her, away from the faculty offices and into a more remote section of the building where there are fewer occupied classrooms. She realises belatedly that they’re heading towards the east side of the building. Towards the tower she and Bren used to use for alone time.

The old glass doors fly open almost off their hinges in front of the Archmage with just a flick of his hand as they approach, echoing loud in the deserted corridor. He strides through the derelict stone hallway between the two abandoned courtyards, the occasional glassless windows trailing encroaching ivy, the flagstones on the floor smothered in a thick layer of dust. Astrid can just make out old footprints in the grime on the floor. Hers and Bren's from months before.

Master Ikithon heads up the thin winding stone staircase in the tower itself, right up to the top floor. She glances left at the closed wooden door of the room they used to meet in. The one with a trap door that leads to the roof, a place they’d spent many an evening together watching the sun set over Rexxentrum in the spring and early summer, before heading back down into that room to be alone together without fear of interruption. Those nights were so special and this tower, despite its dilapidation, a place with such fond memories. She worries, as the Archmage leads them a few doors down to a room on the right, whether those memories are about to be tarnished by what’s to come.

"It’s not enough for you to simply think about whether you truly want to be here or not." He begins, stepping into the centre of the room. The wind howls through the empty window panes that line the room on two sides, no glass left in any of them. Astrid grips her arms against the blast of sudden cold as a gust makes Master Ikithon’s crimson robes billow around him. "To know if you’re really serious, I need to test you. Take off your clothes."

The command catches Astrid off guard. All three of them stare open mouthed at him for a moment. He repeats himself, and with a moment's hesitation, they reluctantly begin to comply.

"Put them outside." He instructs when they’re done, regarding them with a look colder than the wind whipping at Astrid's bare skin. She clutches her arms around herself, trying in vain to hold onto some modesty. With their clothes in piles in the corridor and the three of them standing naked in stunned silence, he crosses the room to the door, producing a large, heavy key from his robes.

"This tower would be a good place to set up a space to conduct experiments with the crystals." He muses, tone jarringly light. "It would save me having to transport you all to Vergessen as often."

"You’d still let us take part in that Sir?" Bren asks, a slight shiver to his voice.

Master Ikithon considers the question for a moment. "That depends entirely on what transpires tonight. You are going to stay here until I come and let you out in the morning. With the skills you all possess escape could be quite easy, even with your component pouches missing, so I issue this warning. Escaping would end your ordeal, but it would also mean an instant end to your time at the Academy and therefore your involvement in the further purpose we have been working so hard towards. The Empire deserves only the strongest minds. Tonight, you make your choice. Stay or go. It’s all up to you."

And with that, he sweeps out of the room in a flourish of crimson velvet. The heavy key sounds in the lock, and they’re left alone.

Astrid jumps as there’s a heavy thump, looking over to find Wulf sitting on the floor. "Well fuck. There goes my evening plans."

There’s a brief moment of silence before Bren bursts out laughing. "You always know how to lighten the mood." Wulf looks up at him with a smile that’s obviously more than a little forced. "What were your plans?"

"Not this." Wulf chuckles, sighing.

"Ok, so yea, this is less than ideal…" Astrid joins him in sitting on the floor, instantly feeling at least a tiny amount of respite from the wind sheltered by the walls under the window panes. It’s still cold though, uncomfortably so. And we’ve only just got in here, how are we going to cope with this all night..? "At least we’re together, I don’t think I could do this if I was alone. Even with the… the whole being naked thing, I’m glad your both here."

"Being naked together isn’t that big a deal is it?" Bren asks, also sitting. "It’s awkward, but we’ll get used to it. It’s not like we haven’t seen each other before." Astrid blushes as she recalls the time she and Bren walked in on Wulf and Mura together, not to mention the number of times she’s accidentally burst into his room without knocking to find him walking around in the nude. And there was that one time Wulf caught her and Bren making full use of her desk…

"Ok true. We’re all adults here." She breathes, unfolding her arms from her chest. 

Wulf nods, pointedly not looking at her. "Exactly. And we’re not exactly just friends are we. We’re closer than that."

"That’s big talk but you’re blushing." Bren smirks.

Wulf's blush deepens. "Only because Astrid's not comfortable." He says, unconvincingly.

"It’s ok if you’re not too." Astrid shoots a chastising look at Bren. "None of us would have chosen this. You don’t have to put on a brave face."

Wulf scrunches up his nose. "It's not that I care about being naked, you know me, I’m not exactly shy. It’s that I care about being naked in front of someone who doesn’t want me to be naked around them. And that you’re naked too and you don’t want to be." He shrugs awkwardly. "Consent is important."

She nods. "You’re a good person Wulf, not that I needed any proof."

He rolls his eyes. "Respecting consent doesn’t make you a good person Astrid, everyone should do it."

"Ja I know, I know…" Sighing, she scrubs her hands over her face and takes a breath. "Consent shouldn’t be given retrospectively but we’re here now I guess so… I give you permission to look at my boobs. And you know… everything else."

Bren puts his head in his hands, chuckling. "I love you two so much." Wulf glances at her, looking away again and closing his eyes. 

"…It’s somehow worse now isn’t it?" she says, biting her lip.

"Ja."

"Why is it worse..?"

"What if we stop worrying about being naked, and start thinking about how we’re going to last a whole night here in this cold?" Bren cuts in, then adds uncertainly, "That’s if… you do both want to stay don’t you?"

"Of course." Wulf shrugs. "What else would we do? I want to serve the Empire and keep our people safe. A little cold isn’t going to scare me off. Astrid?"

She frowns. "I hate this, I won’t lie. I’m scared and uncomfortable, I’d rather be anywhere but here right now. But you’re right. Leaving now after all we’ve been through, just for the sake of comfort, is unimaginable."

"Good." Bren says, relief clear in his tone. Did he really think we’d give up that easily? She wonders. "Then let’s talk tactics. What can we do to make the best of what we’ve got?"

Astrid is glad for the distraction. Something feels weird, something that’s been niggling at the back of her mind for a while. The fact is, being naked in front of Wulf is really not all that bad. She knows it should be, but it isn’t. When Master Ikithon was there she felt uncomfortable, violated even. But as soon as he left it wasn’t so bad. They’re making light of it all as they usually do when things get tough, utilising the natural bravado that humour brings, but there’s something else there, an undertone she can’t quite work out.

"We haven’t got anything, there’s nothing here Bren." Wulf says, getting up to walk around the room, lit only dimly now by the waning evening light coming through the windows. Taking a first proper look around, Astrid notes he’s right. There’s nothing there that they could use for warmth, not even any old furniture to block the wind. The room is an empty rectangle, save from cobwebs and dust.

"He said we can’t use magic to escape," Bren frowns to himself, "but he said nothing about using it to keep warm. We must have something useful between us?"

"There’s nothing to use as fuel so fire's out of the question." Astrid sighs. "I could use Prestidigitation to warm a patch of floor?"

"Good thinking Astrid. It’s something at least." Bren smiles encouragingly. "Turns out we’re great at making fire, but not maintaining it. We should really work on that."

Astrid places her hands on the floorboards and casts her cantrip, repeating the process twice more to make three warm patches on the rough wood, just large enough for each of them to sit.

"That’ll last an hour, and I can recast it however many times we need." She knows Bren and Wulf are already aware of all that, but it makes her feel better to say it out loud. "Other than that, without components, there’s not a lot more I can do."

Her gaze drifts to a small pile of grey feathers in one corner, what looks like the remains of an old pigeon nest, more droppings and dust than anything. There is one other thing she could cast it would seem. Feather Fall would require just one of those feathers. Their escape would be through a window and with a naked dash through campus back to their rooms, but better than being trapped here all night. She’s deeply ashamed to find herself even considering it.

The magical warmth of the floor does help, but as the night begins to draw in and the light fades to complete darkness, the temperature drops further. Astrid knows it’ll be at its worst just before dawn, still hours away yet. Her teeth are chattering already, the wind unforgiving on her bare arms and torso.

"We should go to the corner between the windows. There’s space if we huddle up close." Wulf suggests. "It’ll keep us out of the wind as much as possible."

"How do we decide who sits in the middle?" Bren asks. Astrid can barely see him in the low light, but she’s known him long enough to hear in his tone that he’s bashful about it, despite trying to cover it up.

Wulf laughs. "Boulder, parchment, shears, I don’t care. Could do with some light though…" he says, obviously hinting.

"Oh, yea…" Bren quickly casts Dancing Lights, illuminating the room in a soft glow. The lights shift a little and change colour from pale yellow to a warm orange. "Maybe that’ll trick our minds into thinking it’s not so cold." His sudden shiver makes that seem as unlikely as it sounds.

After a brief game of Boulder, Parchment, Shears, playing off against each other till they have a winner, it’s decided that Bren will take the centre spot for the next half hour, swapping out with the others periodically so they each get a turn. Astrid figures they won’t be sleeping tonight anyway.

Bren's face glows bright red as he settles down on the warm floor facing Astrid, with his back flush against Wulf's chest. His large arms encircle both her and Bren easily, pulling them both into a tight hug that at least keeps the cold at bay where their skin touches.

"You’re tense Bren." Wulf says after a minute. "You’re even more boney when you’re tense. What’s wrong?"

"I am not boney." Bren tuts. "I’m slim."

Wulf huffs. "A strong breeze could knock you over. You need to eat more."

"Are you my mother now?"

Wulf's hand leaves Astrid's back momentarily to poke Bren in the ribs, making him yelp and jerk as he hits a ticklish spot. "Stop avoiding the question. What’s wrong?"

"Oh I don’t know, maybe I’m stressed about that essay we have due in next Grissen, or maybe it’s because I’m sitting here in a naked cuddle-pile with my best friend and my girlfriend?"

There’s silence for a moment, before Wulf speaks again, deadly serious. "That essay sounds fucking horrible though, right?"

Astrid snorts a giggle and finds she can’t stop, risking the cold to pull away to wipe at the tears that form in her eyes. Catching her breath, she sits back beside Bren, nuzzling against his chest. "If we die tonight, at least we die laughing."

"We’re not going to die. Probably." Bren kisses her cheek.

They talk for a while after that, working in cycles to recast their spells and take their turns in the middle, and the routine of it and a concerted effort to keep their spirits up works for a good few hours before the cold really starts to bite. Eventually, the power of humour and cuddles alone are not enough to keep it at bay any longer.

"What if he really did get it wrong and we can’t survive this?" Astrid asks, teeth chattering in the dark. Bren's Dancing Lights winked out a while ago, his concentration waning.

"Trent Ikithon never gets anything wrong." Wulf mutters beside her from his spot in the middle, Bren and Astrid tucked into his sides with an arm over them each. "I think it’s the law or something. Archmages are always right."

"We’ll be ok Leibe." Bren says from across Wulf's chest, voice more than a little shaky.

Wulf pulls them both in a little tighter. "Come on, I need you Astrid. You’re the strong one."

She snorts derisively. "I’m not strong. I don’t even know if I can cast Prestigidi… I can’t even say it any more with my teeth chattering like this, let alone cast it again."

Bren reaches across Wulf to squeeze her hand. "Lucky you don’t cast it with your teeth then."

"Smart ass."

"It is a difficult word to say." He muses. "It’s unnecessarily difficult. Why couldn’t they just have called it Prest or something. Or maybe… I don’t know, Digi? Stidge?"

"Well," Wulf sighs dramatically, "that’s it. You’re clearly delirious Bren. It’s up to you and me now Astrid."

She laughs weakly. "I always knew he’d be the first to go…"

"Hey!" Bren protests, tickling her in the ribs. She barely feels it her skin is so cold where his fingers touch her.

Wulf chuckles, chest vibrating under her cheek. "Ok, before we all descend into frozen madness… I want to say something."

"Sounds serious." Bren yawns. "We’re really not going to die Wulf. He wouldn’t let that happen, he’s not a monster. He never would have left us if he didn’t think we could handle it. He never gives us a challenge we can’t complete."

"Yea, I know." Wulf says calmly. Astrid wishes she had Bren's certainty there. "But still. I’ve been working up to this for a while now, I just haven’t had the guts. It’s amazing what a bit of hypothermia can do for your courage…"

"We don’t have hypothermia. Not yet anyway." Astrid mumbles.

"Thank you doctor Becke." She doesn’t need to be able to see to know Wulf is rolling his eyes. "Ok…" he takes a deep breath, sounding suddenly nervous. "I need you to know something. And, I’m not saying this because I want anything to change or because I’m expecting anything from you, I just… feel like I need to say it..."

"What are you talking about Wulf?" Bren asks, confused. "If you’re about to confess to hiding my spell book under the sink that time, I already know it was you."

"It was me." Astrid grins.

"What!? Why would you…"

Wulf sighs exasperatedly. "I love you."

"We know Wulf, we love you too." Bren says distractedly. "Astrid, I was looking for that for ages…"

"No, I love you. Romantically."

Astrid and Bren fall into a stunned silence at that, neither knowing what to say. "Which of us?" Astrid eventually manages to ask.

"Both of you."

"Since when?" Bren asks, shifting to sit up slightly. Soft orange light suddenly fills the room as he casts Dancing Lights again.

Wulf shakes his head with a little shrug. "I don’t know. A long time I think, I just didn’t realise that’s what it was. I tried to convince myself we were just friends, but this isn’t friendship. Not on my end anyway. And I guess… it feels wrong, keeping it from you. Like I said, I don't need anything to change, I’m not asking for anything. I just wanted you to know."

Astrid and Bren look at each other as they try to take it all in. The silence stretches.

"I’ve fucked everything up haven’t I?" Wulf says nervously. When neither of them answer, he buries his face in his hands. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck…"

"No, Wulf… I don’t know." Astrid answers. And then it finally clicks. The feeling she couldn’t identify earlier in the evening is right there in front of her, plain as day. "It’s that thing I haven’t been able to put my finger on with us. It’s been in the back of my head niggling away… What if things have changed over time and we just didn’t realise? Because most relationships are monogamous, but they don’t all have to be. I’m rambling…"

"What are you saying?" Bren asks.

She looks between the two of them, sighing defeatedly. "I don’t know."

Bren's brow furrows questioningly. "You could see the three of us being together?"

"Well… yes. Maybe. It’s not that crazy when you think about it. And, you know… your… you know…" she gestures with her hands, hoping he’ll understand. His deep blush indicates that he does.

"Your what?" Wulf asks warily. "His what?" He looks back to Astrid when Bren fails to answer.

"My… crush. On you." Bren admits sheepishly.

Wulf stares at him. "You have a crush on me?" Bren nods, biting his lip. "What the fuck Bren!"

"You can hardly talk!" He retorts.

The three of them squeak as the floor suddenly turns cold under them. Astrid hastily casts her round of Prestidigitation again, not having realised the hour was about to lapse. They huddle again to get warm, awkwardly swapping places for Bren's turn in the middle.

"So…" he eventually asks, sandwiched between the two of them shivering. "What happens now?"

Wulf purses his lips, making a perplexed noise. "Not a clue. I don’t know what I was expecting from telling you, but it wasn’t any of what just happened."

"Why is nothing ever simple?" Astrid complains, throwing her hands up in the air. "Why can’t we just be stuck in here freezing our asses off? Is one drama at a time not enough? You know, fuck this cold!" She yells at the window. "Fuck it in the fucking ass!"

"Do you feel better for that?" Wulf asks, barely keeping ahold of his laughter.

She sniffs haughtily. "Yes, I do." she turns back to nuzzle into Bren's chest, wracked again by bone shaking shivers. "I really don’t know how much longer I can do this for." She whimpers against his clavicle.

His arms tighten around her, Wulf's free arm encircling her again too as he rubs comfortingly up and down her back. "Of course you can." Bren whispers to her. "Like Wulf said, you’re the strong one."

"Wulf's a fucking liar."

"Uncalled for." She hears Wulf mumble.

"You’ve got this." Bren says reassuringly. "We all do."

The hours tick by, the temperature continues to drop, and by the early hours, Astrid starts to suspect that if it does get much colder, they really will start to succumb to hypothermia soon. She doesn’t tell the guys that of course, none of them are in particularly high spirits any more and that outlook won’t help things.

"Should we try moving around?" She asks, stifling a yawn. "This room is big enough to run around."

Wulf grunts. "We’d lose the warmth from the Prestidigitation and gain wind chill. It might make things worse."

She flexes her fingers and toes, fighting the encroaching numbness in the digits.

"It would be so easy to jump out of the window." Bren says suddenly. Astrid follows his gaze to the pile of feathers. "A quick Feather Fall and this could all be over."

"You don’t mean that." Wulf shakes his head, looking over at him. His eyes gain intensity, frowning at him when he just stares back. "You don’t mean that." He repeats firmly. "We have a duty to the Empire Bren, if we give up now we fail our people. Everything we’ve been through will have been for nothing."

"If it weren’t for me we wouldn’t even be here." Bren says, teeth chattering violently. "I’ve already failed the Empire…"

"I told you to stop that already." Wulf sighs, voice unsteady as a particularly strong gust of wind makes them all wince.

When the wind dies down again, Bren continues. "It’s true though. If I’d kept a hold of my temper and shut my mouth, we wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t have to prove our loyalty, and we wouldn’t be freezing to death in a tower."

"It’s done." Astrid nuzzles his neck. "Can’t change it, so no point dwelling on it." It’s only when she hears him sniff that she realises he’s crying. "Oh Bren... Please, neither of us blame you."

"Of course we don't." Wulf confirms. He reaches to brush a tear from Bren's cheek, pressing a kiss to the spot, then another, and another, moving closer to his lips. Bren moans as their mouths meet in a sweet, slow kiss, the Dancing Lights hovering above flickering as he loses concentration. Astrid watches transfixed as the kiss deepens, Wulf slipping his tongue into Bren's mouth, hands coming up to card through his auburn hair.

When Wulf pulls back he looks at her uncertainly, almost horrified, as though he expects her to be upset. He starts to apologise, but she quickly stops him with a kiss of her own. Wulf sighs into her mouth, she can’t tell whether out of relief or lust, but she's struck by just how right it feels. When they separate, he looks between the two of them seeming not to know what to say.

"Let's unpack all that tomorrow, when our brains are working properly again." Astrid suggests, trying to pull them back from the edge of whatever might have been about to happen if they kept going. She certainly wanted to keep going, and from the look in Bren and Wulf's eyes they seem to have wanted that too. The last thing she wants is for any of them to regret it in the morning, and they’re hardly in a state to be making rational decisions right now.

They sit together silently for a while after that, the warmth of their brief shared lust quickly fading to leave them shivering once more. They don’t say a word as they cling to each other, exhausted but too uncomfortable to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time, waiting desperately for the first hint of Master Ikithon's return, hoping they can make it till morning.

When the sun does begin to rise, the sky turning gradually yellow, orange then gold, the wind still howls around them and the shivers still come and go in waves, but everything feels a little brighter. She smiles as a feather tumbles past them in the breeze, Bren clutching it in his fingers briefly before smiling as he lets it go. A thud echos somewhere distant in the tower, the three of them sighing in relief and drawing apart to sit slumped as the sound of footsteps climbing the stone stairs grows louder.

The key grates in the lock, hinges groaning in protest as the door swings open and finally, there stands Master Ikithon. He looks at them with an expression Astrid can’t read, before nodding approvingly. Stepping aside, he raises one hand and a tray floats in, three steaming mugs atop it.

"Drink." He says, throwing a bundle of blankets she hadn’t even noticed him holding onto the floor beside where the tray comes to rest. "You can have the morning to recover, this afternoon we get back to work. We’ve wasted enough time already."

He turns and strides out without waiting for a reply, though they do say in unison, voices unsteady, "Yes Master Ikithon" before darting for the blankets and the mugs.

A short time later, dressed and warmed a little from the hot tea, they make their way back to the accommodation block, glad it’s still early enough that they see no one along the way. Wordlessly they make the decision to stay together, piling into Bren's tiny bed still fully clothed. They barely fit, but Astrid’s last thought before she succumbs to an exhausted, dreamless sleep half buried under Wulf and Bren, is of how completely and utterly content she feels. In spite of what they endured, they got through it together. She smiles as she drifts off, never more certain that the three of them together could survive anything the world throws at them.

 

******************************

 

"I feel like shit."

"Don’t be a baby Wulf." Bren yawns, attempting to button his shirt but fumbling the clasp. "You can’t feel that terrible, you said shit instead of scheiße. You always cuss in Zemnian when you feel really bad."

Sprawled over the bed naked from the waist up, Wulf tuts irritably. Astrid wonders that they all managed to fit in the bed with the amount of space he’s managing to take up all by himself. "Geh fick dich. That enough Zemnian for you?"

Bren looks up from his buttons with a grin, Astrid snorting a laugh. "Come on." She says, taking Wulf's hands to encourage him up from the bed. She's reminded of the night before as he gets to his feet with a grunt of protest, his proximity making her feel suddenly shy. She feels her cheeks heat and tries to look away.

"It’s ok if you regret kissing me." He shrugs, noticing her bashfulness and interpreting it as discomfort. "I mean, it’s not ok, I’d never forgive myself for pressuring you…"

"You didn’t pressure me." She sighs, drawing him into a hug. "I kissed you, not the other way round, and I don’t regret it. I… don’t know what I feel. It’s all a lot to take in, I can’t think about us right now. I know we need to talk about it, and we will. Just… not right now."

He gives her a squeeze and kisses her cheek before pulling away with a smile that sets her blushing again. "When you’re ready. Both of you." He says, glancing at Bren. "There’s no rush."

Bren stands for a moment, expressionless, hands still on his half fastened shirt buttons. Crossing the few strides to Wulf, he kisses him soundly before pressing their foreheads together. "We should all talk tonight, if that’s ok with you Astrid?"

Astrid tentatively nods in agreement. "Tonight. Right now though, you two need to finish getting dressed or we’re going to be late."

"Ja ja ja…" Wulf yawns dramatically, grabbing his fresh shirt from where it hangs carelessly on the hook on the back of Bren's door. "Don’t want to get locked in the tower again."

Astrid shivers exaggeratedly. "Don’t joke. I would literally die."

"Drama." Bren kisses her cheek, shrugging into his coat. "We survived it once Schatz, we could do it again."

She laughs, shaking her head and opening the door. "If you two want to risk being late to annoy Master Ikithon and test that theory, be my guests. I’m going to class." Setting off down the hall at a run, she calls back over her shoulder. "I’ll be sure to let him know you two want a second trip to the tower though if you like!"

"Astrid! You know you can’t outrun me!" Wulf yells from inside the room, Bren jogging out after her laughing. "You wouldn’t dare!"

"Try me!" She giggles as he appears in the hallway, coat in hand, shirt still unbuttoned and only one shoe on. She pauses as he hops to put it on, turning to sprint down the stairs when he starts heading her way at a dead run.

On the second floor landing, out of breath already, she pulls up to wait for the others. She can hear their footsteps above her on the wooden stairs, Wulf's quick and heavy as he runs to catch up, Bren following more sedately. Another sound catches her ear as she pauses. She frowns, heading towards the long landing where her old shared dorm used to be.

"Giving up already?" Wulf huffs breathlessly, grabbing her round the waist. She bats his hands away and gestures at the doorway.

"Do you hear that?"

Looking towards the corridor, he listens for a second before looking at her quizzically. "Yea. Sounds like whispers. And?"

She rolls her eyes. "It sounds like a lot of whispers. If they’re all standing in the corridor gossiping, something big must have happened."

"And we care because..?"

Bren catches up just as she sets off into the corridor, ignoring Wulf. She hears them talk briefly and begin to follow, but she’s distracted already by the thrum of dozens of hushed conversations that echo in the cramped hallway. Stopping beside the first occupied room, she can hear the whispered conversation being had inside through the door which stands wide open.

"…escaped and now she’s on the run. Apparently she was part of this gang that’s been plotting against the King or something." Astrid recognises the voice as Lysa Taringale's, far from the most gifted of students, but with an unrivalled talent for sniffing out gossip.

"What, and they just let her get away? What if she comes back here?" Astrid flinches at the sound of Mura's voice, glancing at Wulf to gauge his reaction, though her concern is short lived when he seems not to care in the slightest.

"Don’t be stupid Mura, obviously she’s not going to come back here, that’s the first place the Crownsguard will look. She’ll be long gone by now."

"I just can’t believe it. She seemed so… nice."

"They always do, it's how they infiltrate. It was lucky the Assembly uncovered it, otherwise we’d never have known. She could have carried on teaching us for months. Maybe she’d have even tried to kill us, who knows."

Astrid jumps as Wulf strides past her into the room. "Who are you talking about?" She and Bren share a look before following him. The two girls sitting on one of the beds look up at them nervously as they enter.

"One of the teachers." Lysa answers hesitantly. Astrid sighs. Their reputation precedes them these days, most of the other students are terrified of them ever since the incident with Ferdinard in the cafeteria. "Professor Bashere."

Astrid's blood runs cold.

"Professor Bashere is on the run?" Bren asks incredulously.

Lysa nods nervously. "Yea. She was plotting against the King. The Crownsguard came to arrest her, but she escaped apparently. No one knows where she is."

Heading back to the stairs in stunned silence, Astrid takes a moment to process the news.

"You don’t think she was part of that same group we’ve been interrogating for Master Ikithon?" Bren asks finally, pushing open the door to the courtyard outside and holding it for her and Wulf.

"Maybe." Astrid replies, trying not to think of that prospect. "Makes sense that they’d have someone on the inside. And it would explain why she was so interested in us. Perhaps she wanted to use us to get to Master Ikithon? But she seemed so genuine..."

Wulf yawns unconcernedly as the three head towards the main building and Master Ikithon's office. "It’s always the quiet ones."

Notes:

Playlist inspiration: A song I absolutely adore by Jimmy Gnecco and Brian May called Someone To Die For.

And bonus content, in case anyone wanted to read it, I did actually write out the bare bones of the dialogue between Trent and Bashere in his office:

"Do you know what you’ve done to them? Of course you know! I don’t know why I’m even asking!"
"And what is that, Professor?"
"You’ve isolated them from their classmates and their teachers, you’ve taken vulnerable children and manipulated them into believing they have some great purpose, to serve the empire!"
"We all must serve the Empire Professor, or do you disagree?"
"Don’t you dare make accusations against me! I don’t care how powerful you are, I will not stand by and watch you hurt those children any more. The rest of the teachers at this school might be willing to close their eyes and pretend it isn’t happening, but I won’t! Someone needs to stand up to you, it may as well be me."
"Very brave Professor. Valiant. And incredibly stupid. You’re not very smart are you."
"Excuse me?"
"Such a waste…"
"Are you threatening me?"
"It's far too late for that I’m afraid."
"Your intimidation won’t work on me Trent. I will not let you have them! Hurt them again, and you’ll find out just how determined I can be."

Chapter 35: We Did What We Had To

Notes:

Warning for smut and some gore/horror in this one. Brace for emotional whiplash.

Master Ikithon greets them for their afternoon lesson as though the night in the tower never happened. Astrid is just relieved it’s over, still ashamed that it was ever necessary in the first place. From the relieved glances she shares with Bren and Wulf, they seem to feel the same way.

Not that she can regret the whole thing exactly. What happened between the three of them plays on her mind, especially knowing they’ll be talking about it that night. Sorting out her feelings is hard enough, but the mere few hours sleep they managed this morning and the rumours about Bashere play on her mind too.

"Astrid." She jumps at Master Ikithon's voice. He looks patiently down at her with his arms crossed.

"I’m sorry Master Ikithon." She says sheepishly. "What was the question?"

He sighs, turning back to his desk to perch on the edge. "It’s more than just mere tiredness distracting you. You are troubled by something?" She nods reluctantly, chancing a look at Bren beside her. "You know you can talk to me Astrid. As your mentor, it is my duty to help you if you are in distress."

She panics momentarily. Well Archmage Ikithon, while we were meant to be deciding if we were serious about remaining under your tutelage, we got distracted and sort of all kissed, and now I'm trying to work out if I want a relationship with both of them… She almost laughs at the idea of saying all that out loud to him, but instead scrabbles desperately for the first excuse she can think of.

"It's Professor Bashere!" She says, a little too enthusiastically. He raises an eyebrow. "Um… we heard some of the other students talking about her on the way here. Is it true Sir, is she a traitor?"

Master Ikithon takes a deep breath, clearly considering what to say. He stands and moves around to the other side of the desk to sit in his chair. With his back momentarily turned, Bren nudges her, holding his hands out and confusedly mouthing What was that? On his other side, Wulf leans his chin on his fist, trying to cover up a grin as if he knows exactly what she was really thinking about.

"Of course," Master Ikithon begins when he’s seated, "what I am about to tell you stays within this classroom." They nod eagerly. "Philomena Bashere was found to have connections to a known rebel group. When Cerberus Assembly operatives arrived at her home to question her, they discovered that she had fled. They came to the school to find her, hence the regrettable rumours that have sprung up amongst the students. We are yet to locate her, but we will soon enough."

"The group she’s connected to Sir," Bren asks, sounding as shocked as Astrid feels, "are they the same group we’ve been interrogating?"

Master Ikithon nods, expression grim. "It would appear so. That group is larger than we had first thought. The investigation has uncovered links with a number of satellite cells spread throughout the Zemni Fields."

"Sheiße…" Wulf mutters.

"Nothing for you to worry about. She will be found, as will every other traitor belonging to this group and the countless others that threaten our home. It’s what we do." He looks at them proudly, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Now, remember, none of what I have told you leaves this classroom. And with that out of the way, let us continue our lesson with no more distractions."

They nod, settling back down to work, Astrid trying to push all of her concerns to one side and find some much needed focus.

*******************

"So…" Bren says, breaking the awkward silence that descended as soon as they entered his room that night. Astrid, sitting cross legged at one end of his bed, picks at a loose thread in the toe of her stocking working hard to avoid eye contact with the others. She chances a glance towards the window where Wulf leans against the wall staring out at the evening lights of Rexxentrum. The silence stretches again.

Bren comes to sit on the other end of the bed with a sigh. "Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea."

"It’s ok." Wulf shrugs, still looking through the window with his back turned to them. "I told you, I wasn’t expecting anything from either of you when I told you I love you. We can forget the kissing ever happened and just move on."

Bren shakes his head. "I meant that perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to try and talk about this tonight. We’re all exhausted and mentally drained. Last night was a big deal, and not just because of what happened between us. The past few months have been a lot to deal with."

"And this is an added complication. It’s a step too far, I understand Bren." Wulf says, turning to smile at them. He’s never been very good at concealing his feelings though, and the sadness in his eyes is plain.

"I literally didn’t say any of that…"

Astrid swallows hard. "Perhaps we should each take a turn saying how we feel?" The others nod nervously. "Ok. Then Wulf, we’re going to need booze." She holds a hand out to him.

Grinning, he untucks his shirt and pulls the hip flask from where it rests permanently under his belt, as much a part of his uniform now as his tie. He unscrews the cap and takes a deep drink before walking over to pass it to her, sitting on the bed in the gap between her and Bren. The whiskey makes her eyes water and her throat burn, but she manages not to cough after swallowing it down. Bren isn’t so lucky as he takes his turn with it, wiping his chin bashfully.

"Who goes first?" Wulf asks nervously.

"Bren." Astrid says quickly, taking another drink from the flask.

He looks at her incredulously. "Why me?"

"You’re the leader." She says with a shrug.

He laughs. "In what world am I the leader? You’re the leader."

"Am not."

"You were born to lead." He says with genuine pride. "Look at when we dance, you always lead. If we do have a leader, it’s definitely you."

"Aww." She smiles, passing the flask back to Wulf. "Then in that case, I nominate you to go first Bren."

Wulf laughs as Bren rolls his eyes, accepting defeat. "Fine." He frowns, visibly collecting his thoughts for a moment. "I guess… I’d like to be with both of you. I always feel better when it’s the three of us. When one of you isn’t here, it feels like something is missing. I can’t really explain it better than that, it’s hard to put into words."

"That doesn’t bode well for the rest of us, you’re the eloquent one." Wulf smiles, his nerves evident.

"Maybe that’s the point. This isn’t something you can easily put words to because it’s based on feelings and instinct. And, if I look back on the past few months, maybe even year, I think without knowing it we’ve already been together in some sense. Look at how physical we are already, when we comfort each other, or warm each other up after training in the rain. How we tend each other’s wounds. Sure, we’re talking about formalising it now, but apart from… the more intimate side of things… how much is really going to change between us?"

Memories flash through Astrid's mind, of Wulf cradling her against his chest beside the fireplace in Bren's room at Vergesson, of her cleaning his cuts in the Ermendrud's barn, Bren calming Wulf the first time Master Ikithon made the incisions in their arms. "We never even noticed it happening." She smiles. "But you’re right."

"I want to explore it, now that we understand it better. I'm scared what will happen between us if it doesn’t work out, but I'm more scared of regretting it if we don't try." Bren finishes, looking at the two of them.

"Me next." Astrid says, taking a deep breath. Beside her, Wulf takes another deep drink. "That kiss last night wasn't because we felt pressured, or stressed from the cold. What I was most shocked about was that it should have felt weird but it didn’t. I don’t regret it, and I’m not apprehensive about what happens next. What we’ve got together, it’s love. Every time I've tried to reason it out today in my head, it always comes back to that. At some point," she says, looking up at Wulf and taking his hand, "we crossed a boundary from platonic to romantic, without even realising it. It's going to take time to get used to it, but I want to try as well."

Wulf stares at her for a moment as if stunned. "I was sure you would say no."

"Is that good or bad?" Bren asks hesitantly. Wulf looks down at the floor, still holding her hand.

"You two know," he begins after a long pause, "the real reason I've been so promiscuous the past few years. I’d be lying if I said pleasure had nothing to do with it, but what I’ve really been craving, pretty much my whole life, was love. I'm fucked up, I know I am, but just being with someone, just temporarily having some physical interaction that was good… it was a way of coping. I can’t say when things changed, but I was able to finally accept that I love you both when I lost Mura. I realised, subconsciously, I’d been using her to cope with wanting you both and not being able to have you. I really did care about her, but when we split, it hurt more that I could see you two in this relationship that I desperately wanted to be a part of but could only watch from the sidelines."

Astrid doesn’t even realise she’s crying till Wulf gently brushes a tear from her cheek, his own eyes wet with unshed tears as he laughs. "I’ve been looking for somewhere to belong for so long," he continues, voice trembling, "and suddenly I knew I already had it. Whether we could be together or not, you two are my home. You’re my family." He looks between the two of them, laughing with joy, tears finally spilling over. "And you want me. You actually want me!"

Bren is the first to move, reaching past Astrid to kiss Wulf softly. He pulls back briefly to rub noses with him before diving back in for another more passionate kiss. Taking advantage of them being distracted, Astrid presses herself against Bren's back and reaches her hands around him to unfasten his belt. Moaning as her hand slips inside his trousers to stroke his cock, he turns his head to kiss her hard.

She feels strong fingers grip her chin and Wulf pulls her away from Bren to kiss her himself, his tongue slipping between her lips to explore her mouth languidly. She uses her free hand to start popping open buttons on his shirt while the other still strokes up and down Bren's cock teasingly. Wulf chuckles against her lips. "Someone's eager."

"Don’t be fooled, I haven’t a clue what I’m doing." She smiles, taking the opportunity to nip at Bren's throat. He tilts his head back with a happy sigh, eyes closed.

Wulf smirks at her and takes over from the hand unfastening his buttons, pulling his shirt over his head and undoing his own trousers, shifting on the bed to pull them off. "You're doing fine. But if we’re doing this thing, we’re doing it properly." Moving back over to them he puts his hands on their chests, pushing them backwards to lay on the bed in a tangle of limbs. Astrid laughs, Bren not getting the chance to react as Wulf kisses him hard, laying on top of them both. "You two have no idea how many times I’ve fantasised about this." He says breathily, unfastening Bren's shirt buttons and kissing the newly revealed flesh along the way. "You do realise you are not quiet when you have sex right? It’s been torture, being just a few doors away…"

Bren moans, back arching under the onslaught. "Just imagine how loud we’ll be now there’s three of us."

"Matron would be so pissed." Astrid sighs smugly, reaching down to pull her underwear off under her skirt with some difficulty in the cramped space between them. Retrieving them as Wulf yanks Bren's trousers down just enough to free his cock, she throws them across the room triumphantly and pulls Bren into a deep kiss, gasping momentarily as Wulf takes the opportunity to push her skirt up her thighs and press his fingers to her entrance. He toys with her teasingly, stroking lightly and avoiding her clit completely as his tongue swipes up almost to the top of her inner thigh and back down again. Writhing her hips, she takes her frustration out on Bren's mouth, sliding her tongue against his the way she wants Wulf's tongue to slide inside her.

She feels Wulf's lips leave her thigh and a moment later she and Bren's hungry kiss is broken by a gasp and then a deep throaty groan from the auburn haired man. Astrid looks over to find Wulf's mouth wrapped around Bren's cock, instantly feeling a flush of warmth shoot through her at the image.

As Wulf bobs his head rhythmically she sets to work on Bren's neck, nipping and kissing the sensitive skin, paying attention to the spots she knows drive him wild. She arches, moaning against Bren's throat when two of Wulf's fingers press deep inside her and begin to stroke slowly, not enough to get her off, just to build the tension. Bren writhes, back arching, and before long mumbles a desperate warning to Wulf just before his breath hitches and he moans his release into the larger man's mouth. Astrid kisses Bren through it, fingernails tracing patterns over his chest.

The room is only dimly lit by a singular oil lamp on the desk across the room, but there’s no mistaking the heat in Wulf's eyes when they meet hers. He may have been doing most of the pleasuring so far, but it’s clearly had quite an effect on him. He clambers over Bren's hips towards her, mouth crashing into hers, arms wrapping her up tight against his broad chest. She moans into his mouth as she tastes Bren on his tongue.

She never felt attraction to Wulf the way she did with Bren before they began their relationship. She's always been aware he’s good looking, but that need just wasn’t there. It’s there now though as they kiss, the tip of his cock pressing against her entrance as she opens her legs for him, nails digging hard into his muscular shoulders. She squeaks as his knee suddenly slips off the edge of the small bed, sending them both rolling off onto the floor along with the pillow and duvet.

Bren snorts a breathless laugh from the mattress as Wulf chuckles, looking up at her sprawled over his chest. "Sheiße, lucky you landed on top."

"Isn’t it just." She smirks, making the most of the sudden change of position to sit up and take his cock inside her without warning. Wulf lets his head fall back against the floor with a groan, hands grabbing hold of her hips as she begins to move over him, quick deep thrusts that have them both moaning.

"Fuck…" Wulf rasps, hips moving in time with her own. "Bren told me you like to take charge but I was not expecting this..."

She raises an eyebrow at Bren as he inelegantly slides off the bed beside them, still catching his breath. He smiles at her sheepishly. "I might have mentioned it in passing."

"Don’t be mad with him." Wulf groans deep in his throat, fingers digging into her hips hard. "If my girlfriend was fucking me this good I’d want to tell the world too."

"Your girlfriend is." She replies breathlessly, taking one of his hands in hers. The look he gives her in response is so full of love, her heart clenches. It sends a fresh wave of warmth through her too, eyes clenching shut and head falling back as she feels her climax building. It’s all too much, too much to take in, too much sensation… She’s startled from her overthinking when nimble, practiced fingers find her clit and begin rubbing small circles over it. She opens her eyes to find Bren kissing Wulf in a desperate slide of tongues and lips that has both of them groaning, his hand working away between her legs, keeping perfect time with their hips despite his obvious distraction.

Watching them kiss, she soon feels her climax overtake her. Wulf lets out a gasping moan against Bren's lips as his own rhythm falters and she feels him spasm inside her, both men helping to drive her over the edge. She moans desperately, not caring how loud she’s being. As the pleasure wanes, she collapses onto Wulf's chest, head resting on Bren's shoulder, the three of them gasping for breath in a sweaty, satisfied tangle of limbs.

Physically and emotionally exhausted, they eventually clamber back up onto Bren's tiny single bed, quickly finding sleep in spite of the lack of space.

**********************

Almost a week passes before Master Ikithon takes them to Vergesson again, a much longer gap than usual. Astrid had been getting concerned that perhaps his trust in them wasn't completely restored despite their night in the tower, but when he finally tells them they’re going, her relief is short lived. They arrive at his office that afternoon to find him grim faced.

"There has been a development." He announces as soon as the door is closed. "Today you face your most important challenge yet." He casts to teleport them without giving any more explanation and as soon as they land at Vergesson, heads off towards the main building.

The three of them follow, Astrid avoiding looking at Bren and Wulf. She can guess what it is he might be about to have them do, and she tries to silently quell the anxiety rising in her chest. She feels queasy as they enter the building and head down towards the dungeons. These people deserve to be here, she recites in her head the mantra she’s taken to thinking about every time he brings her down here. They deserve to be punished. The people of the Empire deserve to be safe…

Not for the first time, Astrid feels herself waver when the door to the cell block opens, the stench hitting her like a solid wall of filth along with the near constant quiet drone of pained moans and crying that always accompanies it. Keeping people like this is hard to justify, even after months of coming here. It feels wrong, deep in the pit of her stomach, a feeling that to her shame, she hasn’t yet been able to shake. If they were kept better, it would take them longer to talk… she reminds herself what Master Ikithon has told them, swallowing hard and rolling her shoulders, forcing herself to be strong. Telling herself the unshed tears in her eyes are simply because of the smell. What we do isn’t easy, but it is necessary to keep our people safe.

When Master Ikithon finally comes to a halt outside one of the iron barred cells towards the far end of the wide chamber, Astrid barely stops herself from gasping.

Laying in a huddled ball, arms hugging her knees to her chest, is Professor Bashere. The red headed elven woman looks up at them dazedly. When her eyes finally focus, she begins to sob despairingly.

"Not them. Not them..." she mumbles over and over. "Please not them..."

"We intercepted her in Deastok," Master Ikithon explains, voice showing no trace of emotion, "attempting to barter with known Myriad operatives for passage through the Wuyun Gate to the Menagerie Coast."

"No, no..." Professor Bashere shakes her head, pressing her hands to her ears and closing her eyes tight. "I wasn’t. No..."

"When we searched her home, detailed plans were discovered telling of an attack that would have left hundreds of your fellow students dead." Master Ikithon continues. "A plan that has now come to nothing, thanks to the Assembly's swift actions."

"No, no! I would never!" Professor Bashere yells, sitting up suddenly on the damp straw strewn over the floor of her cell. Her eyes seem to glow with fury, and Astrid instinctively takes a small step back despite the bars between them and the woman's hands chained firmly behind her back to prevent her from casting.

"During her interrogation over the past few days, she has revealed herself to be a founding member of the group we have been hunting. Her actions have led to the deaths of dozens of innocent Empire citizens over the years. She is a traitor of the highest order."

"NO! No I am not, please!" Bashere lunges for the bars, shoving at them with her shoulders. "Can’t you see what he’s doing? Bren, Eadwulf, Astrid, you’re better than this, you’re so clever. Don't let him make fools of you, fight it!”

Master Ikithon sighs, face grim. "As a traitor, she has been sentenced to death and as such claws desperately for any chance of escape. Pay no heed to what she claims, they often do say such fantastical things when they know they are cornered, it is a reflex, they cannot help it."

Bashere snarls at him, looking feral. A far cry from her usual demeanour, though Astrid supposes that was all just an act. "I know what you are you evil bastard. I got too close to the truth, that’s why I’m here. I know what you’re doing to them, these children you turn into monsters!" She turns to Bren, the rage in her eyes dissipating in a heart beat, replaced by a mix of fear and sorrow that makes Astrid's throat tighten. "Bren, you are not a monster, you don’t have to do what he says! Please, please don’t lose yourself to him!"

"Does this work we do feel monstrous Bren?" Master Ikithon asks softly. "It is hard, we do things that tear us apart inside, but it is necessary. It is good work. Is it monstrous to protect our people from those who would see them harmed?"

Bren nods slowly, eyes sorrowful but determined, fixed on Bashere. The woman breaks down into sobs and stops struggling against the bars. Head bowed, the fight seems to go out of her and she sinks to the floor on her knees.

Master Ikithon nods his approval, then steps back from the cell. "You have come far, the three of you. I would not usually trust those so young with such brutal responsibilities but I know you are ready. I told you I would challenge you today, here is your task. You are to execute this prisoner. Since you are the ones she sought to murder, it seems only right."

Astrid feels the blood drain from her face, knees almost buckling despite having guessed what he would ask of them. She feels a rising sense of panic, her heart beating loud in her ears. Taking a few deep breaths, she focuses on the woman weeping softly in front of them. She thinks of all the times Bashere helped them, of the energetic young Professor full of smiles and cheer, of how she’d rallied against Master Ikithon's teaching the past few months, citing concern they now know to have been false. The betrayal feels all the more real laid bare in front of them, the evidence indisputable.

Angry tears begin to spill down Astrid's cheeks. "You manipulated us. You made us think you cared about us. And all along you planned to murder us."

Bashere looks up at the three of them and takes a deep breath, strangely composed all of a sudden. "One day, you’re going to understand that this was wrong. When that day comes, please remember what I’m about to tell you." She says earnestly, looking directly at them. "Trent did this, not you. It isn’t your fault. None of it is your fault. I forgive you. Please remember that, I beg you, remember it."

Wulf steps forward. "Don’t worry, you’re a traitor, there’ll be no guilt." He turns back towards the Archmage. "Master Ikithon, may I?"

"You may, Eadwulf." Master Ikithon rests his hands on Astrid and Bren's shoulders, guiding them back away from the cell to the opposite side of the hallway, out of range of whatever spell Wulf is about to cast. "She is weakened, it will not take much. Exercise restraint. I would prefer you not to make too much of a mess."

Astrid watches as he flexes his fingers, and knows despite his bravado that he's hesitant, delaying as long as possible. She knows him too well to buy the ruthlessness, he’ll find this just as hard as she or Bren would. Squaring his shoulders and planting his feet, he makes the motions for Magic Missile and mutters the incantation under his breath.

Three rays of energy, blindingly bright in the dim torchlight, surge from his finger tips towards Bashere. The woman whimpers, tensing as they fly the short distance to her. One skirts the bars, blackening and denting the metal post before it hits her flank. The other two hit her square in the chest. Bashere screams as explosions erupt from the thin rays and set her clothes alight, flames quickly engulfing her. Astrid shields her eyes from the intense heat and the horror of her former Head of Year writhing in agony as the ball of flame burns her alive, the explosions alone not quite enough to do the job quickly. The woman's screeches and moans, the acrid smell of burning hair and flesh, are too much. Astrid staggers to one side, stomach heaving as she empties it onto the flagstones.

She leans heavily against the rough stone wall, shaking and sobbing. She feels Bren's hand on her back, trembling as it rubs soothing circles. Behind her she hears a hissing noise, the bright flickering orange light and the heat of the burning corpse dissipating as Master Ikithon magically smothers the flames. The smell remains heavy in the air though, making her feel queasy again. Wulf stands stock still staring at the charred mass on the cell floor, eyes wide with shock.

"Eadwulf," Master Ikithon says as he places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a consoling pat. The larger man flinches, as if startled out of his thoughts. "You did well. It is always hard the first time. And Astrid," he says as he looks towards her, "do not see your reaction as failure, see it as a measure of your humanity. Something the traitor did not possess, despite putting on a good act."

Wulf nods shakily. "We did what we had to." Master Ikithon nods in agreement, looking at the smouldering mass in the cell. Astrid notices for the first time that the other prisoners have all fallen completely silent. Those she can see cower in the darkest recesses of their cells, keeping their eyes averted. Bren slips his hand into hers and holds it tight.

"You may be excused, my people will see to the rest." The Archmage ushers them towards the exit. "It will be getting dark soon, make your way to the tower, rest well. Tomorrow we will be working with the crystals again before returning to the Academy. Off you go."

Astrid doesn’t remember walking up the stairs or leaving the building. She finally comes back to herself well into the woods on the path to the tower, startled to see that she’s been lost in her thoughts for so long. The others are silent as they walk beside her, half stumbling. She supposes they must all be in shock.

"Wulf?" She asks, voice shaky. He blinks in surprise and stops, looking at her. "Are you ok?"

"We did what we had to." He repeats after a moment, starting towards the tower again. A wave of nausea hits her again as she watches him go, but with some deep breaths she manages to calm herself this time.

Bren clutches her hand like a lifeline. "It’s going to hit him sooner or later." He murmurs, watching Wulf stride away through the trees.

"And we’ll be there for him when it does." She says, giving his hand a squeeze. "How are you doing?"

He flexes the fingers of his free hand subconsciously, tapping the tips together in a brief pattern she’s come to recognise as a sign of unease. "Honestly? I don’t know. It was… horrific, even if she did deserve it. We’ll get used to it I guess." He shrugs, face contorting in discomfort.

"I hope I never get used to it." She says quietly, swallowing down the lump forming in her throat. "They might deserve it, but they’re still people. If we don’t feel bad about it, aren’t we just as bad as them?"

Bren studies her for a moment, deep blue eyes unreadable. Slowly, he leans in and presses his forehead to hers. "I love you Astrid."

"Love you too Bren." They share a sad smile as they pull apart and begin to walk again, Wulf barely visible now through the undergrowth ahead of them.

Just as Bren predicted, Wulf does break eventually. That night, as the three of them huddle in bed together, Bren and Astrid hold him through the shuddering sobs he fought to hold in all evening, shedding their own silent tears in the darkness. Every time Astrid tries to close her eyes, all she sees is Bashere's face contorted in agony as she burns to death in a filthy cell. Biting her cheek to stifle her sobs, she wonders if she’ll ever stop seeing that face when she tries to sleep.

She wonders how many more faces might haunt her in the darkness by the time her job is done.

Notes:

If you’re in need of something warm and fluffy after that ending, let me take you back to the love-fest at the beginning of the chapter with this song from my Best Days, Worst Days playlist, Sad Song by We The Kings (ft Elena Coats). Always gives me Blumentrio feels.

Chapter 36: Coping Mechanisms

Notes:

Warnings:
A very little bit of gore, trauma, nightmares, insomnia, Trent Ikithon being icky.

Enjoy! And thank you for all your wonderful comments so far, they’ve been a joy to read. I love hearing what you think xx

Waking up at Vergessen has always been a strange experience for Astrid, coming to consciousness in a bed almost as big as her entire room at the Academy, and more luxurious than any bed she’s ever been in. Not that that's difficult, coming from such humble beginnings in Blumenthal. It's even stranger now though, with Bren and Eadwulf cuddled up against her every morning in various states of undress.

It’s the small details, she’s discovered, that she finds comfort in when the darkness starts to stifle her thoughts in the small hours. Little things she clings to like a lifeline to take her mind off the nightmarish images that plague her.

For instance, Bren likes to wear pyjamas in bed, he always has so that’s no different really. He says the sheets feel strange without a layer of clothing in the way. Eadwulf, on the other hand, says he gets too hot with pyjamas on so he almost always sleeps nude, which took a bit of getting used to in the beginning, but quickly cured her of any residual shyness she felt in the weeks after the three of them started sleeping together. A few months down the line and she’s not sure she remembers what shy ever felt like.

She’s never had much of a preference for sleepwear herself. After all, who cares about clothes just you wear to sleep in? But after a few chilly autumn nights at the Academy sharing a quilt far too small to accommodate all three of them, she asked to borrow one of Wulf's oversized shirts and stumbled across a nightwear solution that, for some reason Astrid can’t fathom, both men seem inexplicably enamoured with.

Stretching out beside Wulf's still slumbering form, she pulls his shirt tighter around her and forces herself to stop overanalysing their nightwear. It’s morning after all, the oppressive darkness done with for another night.

She looks over at Bren on the other side of Wulf. Sure enough, he’s already awake with a book open in his lap. She isn’t the only one who struggles with sleep. Even Wulf never sleeps past mid morning now, and Bren is always awake by the time she stirs, hardly seeming to rest at all.

They never really talk about what happens to them during the day anymore. Ever since Bashere, Master Ikithon has been pushing them harder than ever, splitting them up individually to teach them the finer arts of torture and execution. Astrid can hardly believe how easily those words come to her now. As if killing and causing pain are completely normal things to learn.

The truth is, what they do during the day takes such a toll that by the time they meet again in the evening, the three of them are desperate to escape into the comfort of each other’s arms, falling back on companionship and pleasure to chase the horror away for a few hours.

That’s not to say they’re just using each other. There’s love there, unmistakably so. As the intensity of their daytime activities with Master Ikithon has increased, so too has their bond. She always loved them both, but now it feels as though she can’t bear the thought of ever being without them. She craves their company in a way that sometimes scares her.

Wulf stirs beside her, nuzzling a stubbly cheek against her neck groggily and shaking her from her thoughts. Turning to glance over his shoulder at Bren, he grunts. "Bren, only you could be in bed with, if I do say so myself, the two hottest people you know, and still choose to read a book."

Astrid snorts a laugh. "Isn’t his being a huge nerd one of the things we love most about him?"

Bren, sitting propped up against two overstuffed pillows, simply rolls his eyes without looking at them. "Excuse me but we’re all huge nerds, and you two were asleep. If you’re horny Wulf, I’m sure Astrid will be more than happy to accommodate you."

"Did you just offer me up as a reserve? Bren Aldric Ermendrud, I am shocked and appalled." Astrid gasps in mock outrage, cosying up to Wulf's side and nibbling his bare shoulder. "Shocked, appalled, and totally here for it."

Wulf smirks as he leans in to kiss her, a teasing brush of lips before rubbing the tip of his nose against hers. "How long do you think before he admits defeat and joins in?"

"Depends how well we perform I suppose. He can be very stubborn, and he does love his books…" The last word dies in a sigh as Wulf's hands slide down her back to squeeze her ass and pull her hips flush against his own, subtle as ever.

"Yea, but he loves us more." He mumbles, nuzzling her neck. Bren makes a noise beside them as though he’s not so sure, which Wulf answers by rolling and lunging for the offending book. Bren, clearly anticipating the move, easily snatches it out of his reach.

Tutting, Bren boops Wulf's nose. "You’re getting predictable Leibe."

"Oh? And what do you predict I’m going to do next?" Wulf asks, shifting his weight to kiss a slow trail down Bren's chest, unfastening buttons on his night shirt one handed as he goes. Astrid watches the two of them, amused. Bren catches her eye with a smirk.

"Definitely not whatever I tell you to do, you’re too defiant for that." His back arches just a fraction as Wulf kisses reach his stomach. "So," he says, voice impressively casual, "I predict that you’re not going to leave me in peace to let me finish this chapter."

Wulf growls, looking up at Bren with a glare. "Smart ass..." Bren waggles his eyebrows cockily.

"What are you reading anyway?" Astrid asks, stretching out languorously. "Surely you can take one morning off? I, for one, would like to make the most of this enormous bed before we have to return to the Academy and sleep all squashed together in a single bed."

"'Farshaw's Theories on Evocation'. Master Ikithon lent it to me yesterday, I said I’d return it today." He opens the book and starts reading again, using Wulf's head as a makeshift table.

Wulf nudges it pettily as he rolls over onto his back beside Astrid again. "Rude." Astrid chuckles at his sulking, sitting up to straddle his hips between her bare thighs, the hem of his shirt she’s wearing just brushing the tops of her legs and barely covering her chest, even two thirds buttoned.

Wulf looks her over appreciatively, sitting up to kiss her. "Am I technically breaking the rules," he asks between kisses as he tugs the oversized shirt off over her head, "if I make you scream? Because you know, that could be quite distracting for him."

He moans as she rolls her hips over him deliberately, flashing him a predatory grin. "Not if I make you scream first."

They don’t get to find out who would win that contest, Bren quickly abandoning the book on the nightstand to join them before the two of them have even broken a sweat.

************************

"Please, please, no!" The halfling man strapped to the table thrashes as far as his bonds will allow, voice a desperate wail. "I don’t know anything else, I swear!"

Astrid looks across the room to Master Ikithon pleadingly. "Again." He instructs emotionlessly. 

Swallowing hard, she grits her teeth and presses the hot iron to the halfling's bare flank, smoke rising from the blistering flesh. He screams, shuddering till the iron is removed after an agonising count of five seconds, when he sucks in a rasping breath and begins to sob. Astrid fights back the instinctive urge to apologise, angry at herself for still struggling with this. Months since Bashere, months of Master Ikithon's lessons, and still she can’t just do what he asks without making a fuss.

"Take him back to his cell." The Archmage says, nodding towards the half elf woman standing beside the door clad in a deep burgundy and black uniform. She obediently steps forward and unstraps the weeping halfling, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders and half dragging him out of the door.

Astrid gathers up the collection of iron bars and pincers she’d been using to torture him, throwing them angrily back into the furnace glowing ominously off to one side. The instruments clatter and clang in the grate, loud in the suddenly quiet room.

"I’m sorry Master Ikithon." She sniffs, wiping at the sheen of sweat on her brow as she tries desperately not to cry.

"Why?" He asks patiently. "You did as you were asked, if hesitantly. You are improving Astrid."

"I shouldn’t be hesitating though, not after this long."

"Reluctance to harm people is natural. Do you think I choose my students to be ruthless, mindless soldiers?"

She shakes her head, looking up at him.

"If I wanted those attributes, I certainly wouldn’t have chosen three such intelligent pupils. Your talent for analysing the world around you alongside your problem solving skills are qualities you should be proud of. They may challenge you now, but in time they will become invaluable. Never apologise for your talents Astrid. And certainly never apologise for using them to make  the world a better place."

She walks out feeling bolstered, her mood lighter. She should have known to talk through her worries with Master Ikithon, he might be a hard taskmaster, but he always knows what to say to make her feel better.

"You look happy." Wulf smiles as he greets her coming the other way at the edge of the woodland. The trees are heavy with snow above him, branches bent low with a thick white blanket that one perfectly aimed snow ball could easily dislodge… Any other time she’d do it, but since he’s about to meet Master Ikithon she thinks better of it. "Did you have a breakthrough?"

Stepping into his arms she smiles against his broad chest. "Yes, I think I did."

"That’s good to hear. Wish me luck, I could use one too."

"Could you?" She looks up at him frowning. "Are you struggling too?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Of course I'm struggling. Or do you think killing comes easily to me?"

"I didn’t mean… I wasn’t saying…" she flusters, cursing herself for being so careless with her tongue. 

Wulf chuckles, kissing the top of her head. "I know what you meant, I was just being an ass." Astrid sighs, half relief, half irritation. "But still, I wish it was easier. His personal guards, the ones in the red and black uniforms, they’re so… stoic and calm. They don’t seem to react to any of what goes on. I wish I was more like them."

"They scare me." Astrid shivers. "And some of them seem to get a kick out of watching us struggle, have you noticed?"

Wulf snorts in amusement. "You’ll be believing they’re Scourgers next. Sent by the King to murder you in your bed for disobeying your parents, like in the stories." She bats at his hands as he tickles her waist making spooky noises.

"Shut up you idiot," she laughs, "I do not believe in kids ghost stories. Besides, they’d come for you first, you’re the worst behaved of all of us. Speaking of which, you better get going before you’re late." She stands on her tip toes to kiss him, what was intended as a brief peck quickly deepening because Wulf doesn’t do quick kisses.

They reluctantly part after a minute and start walking their separate ways. "Astrid?" He calls back to her when she’s a little way into the woods.

She turns to look at him questioningly, about to ask what he wants when she just sees the snow ball leave his hand a fraction of a second too late to react. She screeches as it hits its mark, a pile of snow loosened from the trees above landing right on top of her head, smothering her in white powder. Gasping, she shakes the worst of it off, just in time to see him jogging away towards the main building laughing.

"Motherfucker!" She shouts after him, shivering.

The trek back to the tower is a cold one, and after thinking in great detail of all the ways she’s going to make Wulf pay, her thoughts inevitably stray back to less amusing conundrums, as they always seem to these days. Particularly her worries about Bren.

It would be easy to miss if she didn’t know him so well. On the surface he appears to be coping, showing only the same residual tiredness and stress she and Wulf carry with them. None of them sleep easily these days, certainly not without exhausting each other beforehand, and even then they regularly wake to nightmares. Occasionally, she and Wulf wake screaming and need comforting back to sleep. Bren wakes thrashing and sobbing at least once a week. He even soiled himself one night, and though she and Wulf showed nothing but understanding, he snapped at them both as though they’d made fun of him, and took himself off to sleep elsewhere.

That’s another change in him. His temper. He’s always had a fiery streak at times, but recently he’s been far more volatile, snapping at them both more quickly and more harshly than he ever has before. He always apologises, and she can see he’s noticed the change in himself too, but he doesn’t seem able to stop himself from lashing out verbally.

It’s only temporary, she tells herself as she reaches Master Ikithon's tower, we’ll hit our stride at some point and be fine, even Bren.

Her first port of call when she reaches the tower is to hurry to her room for some fresh dry clothes and a quick warm by the fireplace. After towel drying her hair as best she can, she goes in search of Bren.

She finds him in his room, working on something at the large carved desk. "Hi." She says cheerfully, draping her arms over his shoulders from behind and kissing his cheek. "Do you want me to leave you to it?"

"No. I missed you." He says, turning to nuzzle her nose. She breathes a small sigh of relief that he seems to be having a good day today. "Why is your hair wet?"

"Wulf..." She grumbles. "Don’t ask." Moving around the chair, she sits in his lap to kiss him properly, letting her fingers card through his hair. He’s been keeping it trimmed short recently, much to her dismay. "What are you working on?" She asks, popping the top few buttons on his shirt to nip at his collar bone.

"Just copying a new spell across to my spell book." She hums questioningly, mouth occupied with sucking a bruise into the exposed skin beside his shoulder. He sighs, tilting his head back against the top of the chair. "Scorching Ray… Astrid…" He moans as she bites him lightly. Grabbing a handful of her hair he tugs her head back up to kiss her hungrily.

She cups his cheek as their tongues slide together, both fighting to take control of the kiss. She wins of course, she always does, guiding him into a less frenzied rhythm. He’s not so easily put off though it seems. She finally breaks the kiss with a chuckle, grabbing his hands to stop them working their way under her skirt.

"Not now. There’s plenty of time for that tonight…"

He trails wet open mouthed kisses down her throat and she has to work hard not to moan. "But I want you now…"

"If you want me that badly, you can wait. Work can’t. I’ve an assignment due tomorrow morning that I’ve barely started."

She giggles again as he brazenly licks back up the path of his kisses. "Half an hour."

"Nope."

"Twenty minutes?"

"In your dreams Ermendrud."

He presses a kiss to her lips, gently tugging her bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away barely an inch. "Ten?"

She rests her forehead against his, reminding herself that she really does need to get some work done. It’s a struggle. "Nuh uh." She sighs.

"…Five minutes?" He pulls back further, eyes pleading.

She chuckles, kissing the tip of his nose. "Extremely optimistic. We never end up being that quick, we get too distracted."

His sly grin almost makes her change her mind then and there. "It’s hardly my fault the sex so good."

"It’s precisely half your fault." She smiles, rolling her eyes. "You’re making it very hard to say no."

He grins, diving in for another kiss. "Then don’t say no…"

"Bren!" She laughs, quickly ducking out of the way of the kiss and standing up out of his reach.

"Fine, fine." He smiles, reaching out a hand to her. She takes it, threading their fingers together. "You know I'd wait forever for you, if I had to."

Smiling, she sits back down in his lap, resting her head against his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her, stroking her back so softly she can barely feel it through her sweater. "It’s strange. How we can be capable of such violence, and such tenderness too."

"We’re only violent when we need to be. I’d never hurt you, or Wulf, or anyone else I care about. We have control over our ruthlessness, and we use it for good. I don’t like it, but I can live with it. As long as I have you two, I can live with it." He murmurs, pressing a kiss against her temple.

"You’re all that’s keeping me going. I love you so much it scares me." She confesses, voice barely a whisper.

He holds her tighter against his chest. "You should never be scared of love, it’s what keeps us human."

"That, Bren Ermendrud, is really quite beautiful." She sits up to smile at him, stroking a hand through his hair affectionately.

He leans into her touch, turning his head to kiss her palm. "As long as we have each other, everything will be alright Liebe. And even when we’re apart," he takes her hand in his and presses it to his chest over his heart, "you’ll always be here. I’ll never stop loving you, not for one single minute."

She stares at their joined hands and has to swallow hard against the lump forming in her throat. "I’ll always love you too Bren. No matter what."

*********************

"Excellent work." Master Ikithon states upon their return to the Academy. He always holds a debriefing session now, every time they visit Vergesson. It can be such a jarring experience, going from what they do there to the almost boring normality of the Academy. Boring, but a relief sometimes, Astrid admits privately. "Your last assignments were very well put together and you worked hard in your other duties too. Well done. You are dismissed."

As Eadwulf and Astrid obediently head for the door, Bren hesitates. "Master Ikithon, you haven’t given us our assignments for the coming week?"

"You won’t be here Bren." The Archmage smiles. The three of them look at each other in confusion. "Goodness, you’ve been so focussed… perhaps I’ve been working you too hard recently. Today is the twelfth of Duscar. In two days, students will begin travelling home to celebrate the Day of Heart and Hearth, yourselves included."

Scheiße, Astrid thinks to herself, how did we not realise that? Eadwulf and Bren look thoroughly abashed, and she supposes she must too.

Master Ikithon smiles, clearly amused. "It’s alright, it’s a sign of what good students you are that you became so wrapped up in your work." He pauses, looking regretful, "I am afraid I can only spare you for a week instead of the usual three, but the break will do you good nonetheless. At the end of the week, I will come to Blumenthal to bring you back by magical means. We will have a lot to catch up on, so a faster return journey will be beneficial for us all."

The thought of Master Ikithon in Blumenthal is about as ridiculous to Astrid as King Dwendal deciding to take a leisurely stroll in the Mudtop Ward. They’re two worlds apart. The idea of him seeing where they come from leaves her feeling embarrassed. And Astrid certainly doesn’t mind the prospect of only a week away as opposed to three. Three weeks with her mother would be anything but relaxing…

"I would also like to meet your parents while I am there, to let them know how proud they should be of you all, and to reassure them that your welfare is of utmost importance to me."

Wulf swallows. "Even mine Master Ikithon? I’m estranged from them, they didn’t want me coming to the Academy."

The Archmage raises an eyebrow. "Perhaps I’ll be able to change their minds. Every parent should be proud of their children, especially when they’re as accomplished as you three are."

Astrid just about dies of embarrassment at the idea of Master Ikithon meeting her mother, who’s sure to fawn over him in spite of her lack of interest in her daughter's achievements. She wants a hole to open up in the floor and swallow her.

"Of course," he continues, "regretfully I must advise caution. It would be best if you kept the exact nature of your studies with me vague, for their sake and for yours. It's simply too much for most people to understand the level of threat we face. And as Bashere showed us, there are those out there who would seek to infiltrate our lives in order to harm us and those we love."

They nod, understanding the importance of discretion. Bren's mother in particular wouldn’t understand, she’d fret about her boy being put under such strain, not realising that her boy has become a man while he’s been away from home. Astrid's own mother would probably just be glad of the status she could gain working so close to such a prominent political figure, and Wulf's father is unlikely to care at all about his son's welfare, but neither of them are particularly discreet. You tell one person something in Blumenthal and pretty soon everyone knows.

Master Ikithon ushers them towards the door. "I know it will be a sudden change of pace for you, but everyone needs a break every now and then. Enjoy it. It might be the last one you get for a while."

Notes:

This chapter's song was a little tricky since it was a bit of a rollercoaster, but The Power Of Love by Frankie Goes To Hollywood won out in the end.

Hope you enjoyed it xx

Chapter 37: Heart and Hearth

Notes:

NaNoWriMo has arrived again, and it’s come at a good time with regards to this fic. These last few chapters are fully planned out, so all going well, I may actually finish this fic of doom by the end of the month!

Hopping down from the carriage in Blumenthal’s main square, it’s as though they’ve never been away. The only change evident since summer is the thick blanket of snow on the ground and rooftops. The market is bustling, a number of the people standing at the closest stalls looking over to see who's arrived. A few wave, others point and speak in hushed tones to those nearby, obviously talking about the three of them. The difference of course between the gossip here and at the Academy is that in Blumenthal it's positive. They’re as close to local celebrities as the sleepy farming town gets.

Astrid startles as a bag lands unceremoniously right at her feet. The carriage driver glares at her before hauling himself back up into the drivers seat and urging the pair of horses into a brisk trot, barely giving her time to move aside.

"He knows." She says, staring after the carriage worriedly.

Wulf comes over to take her bag from her, swinging it up onto his back. "Of course he doesn’t, how could he? We were quiet."

"Well obviously not quiet enough!" She whispers fiercely, cheeks reddening.

Bren comes over with his own bag, chuckling. "And so what if he knows? He’s hardly going to tell anyone."

"It’s not like everyone at the Academy doesn’t already know we’re fucking. So we had some fun in the back of a carriage." Wulf shrugs as he starts walking towards the east exit of the square. "Anyone who cares is probably just jealous that they’ve never had the chance to do it."

"Will you keep your voice down!" Astrid hisses, looking about nervously. She’s fairly sure no one was close enough to hear, but she still feels her cheeks burn an even deeper shade of red. "Need I remind you, my mother doesn’t even know I’m still seeing Bren, let alone that I’m seeing both of you now…"

"Are you going to tell her?" Bren asks, trying and failing to hide his amusement at the idea.

She sighs. "I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s worth the trouble, she’d go ballistic."

"Exactly." Wulf grins. "It’ll be brilliant."

"You don’t have to live with her for a week…"

Wulf turns, walking backwards a few steps to smirk at her. "Now's the best time to tell her surely? It’s the Day of Heart and Hearth in a few days, the time of year for good tidings and joy. You might even catch her in a good mood for once."

Astrid scoffs. "And pigs might fly. She’s never in a good mood."

"Why don’t you just come and stay at mine?" Bren offers. "You know you’re welcome any time. My mother loves you."

As they leave the bustling square and begin to climb up the gently sloping road towards the outskirts of Blumenthal and Bren's home, Astrid starts to relax a little bit. She’s been on edge ever since Master Ikithon told them about the holiday two days ago. They’d agreed to all go to Bren's as soon as they arrived, in hope of Astrid avoiding her mother for as long as possible. She knows she can’t hide forever, but a few extra hours are something at least.

"I know I’m welcome to visit any time, but you remember the last time you sneaked me in? She was so disappointed Bren, there’s no way she’s going to let me stay overnight. We don’t even know what she’s going to say about you and Wulf sharing a room now."

Wulf grimaces. "One copper says I’m on the couch."

"Two coppers says you’re in the barn." Bren smirks. They shake hands, agreeing the bet.

Astrid rolls her eyes. "Are you not worried at all what she’ll think of the three of us being together?"

"No, why would I be?" Bren frowns. "She thinks the world of the two of you. And sure, polyamory is unusual, but it’s not like it’s some big taboo. Just because my parents are in a monogamous relationship doesn’t mean they expect me to be."

"Yea… but," for the first time, Wulf looks nervous, "with me though?" 

Bren shakes his head, confused. "With you what?"

"I’m not exactly any parent's dream son in law."

"My mother likes you." Astrid grins.

Wulf gives her a withering look. "Your mother likes me because of my earning potential and because she has the hots for me. Bren's parents aren’t like that. They want someone who’s good for him, like you are. My reputation isn't exactly great. What if they think I’m just in it for the sex?"

"You two are so cute, wanting to make a good impression." Bren smirks. "Also, you’re both crazy. She’ll be stoked, I promise you."

Astrid is unconvinced still. "She was practically planning our wedding Bren."

"And now she’ll have one more groom to add to her extremely premature and slightly terrifying plans. Seriously, stop worrying. It’ll be fine."

Astrid's nerves still haven’t settled by the time they reach the farmhouse, and Eadwulf looks openly worried. Bren strides up to the gate without a care in the world. Frumpkin comes plodding over as they near the front door, the old cat meowing loudly till Bren picks him up, cradling him to his chest and scritching him behind the ears. "I missed you too, you silly old cat." Frumpkin purrs, rubbing his dribbly chin on Bren's shoulder. "Gross…" he chuckles affectionately.

The front door swings open before they even reach it, Una wiping her hands on the front of her flour smeared apron with a beaming smile. "I wondered when you'd be here! You neglected to write and tell me when you’d be arriving Bren. Not that you’ve been writing a whole lot recently, but I suppose you’ve been busy with your studies."

Bren looks abashed, cheeks flushing. "Sorry Mutter, we lost track of things."

"I just hope you’ve been having a good time." She hugs each of them in turn as they enter the little farmhouse, giving them a good squeeze and a concerned word on whether they’ve been eating enough, which of course none of them have in her opinion.

They settle in the living room while Una bustles about in the kitchen taking something delicious smelling out of the oven and quickly replacing it with something else she had ready to bake. Astrid's mouth waters at the baking smells. She’s always liked the Day of Heart and Hearth, mostly for the food since spending time with her family is almost always an unmitigated disaster. In this house though, she suspects the day is much more warm and jovial, and she wishes she could spend the whole day here instead of stuck with her own parents.

"So," Una says as she hands round a plate of freshly baked biscuits and finally sits in one of the armchairs, "tell me everything. How are you all, and what have you been doing that’s kept you so busy?"

Silence descends for a long moment, none of them really sure where to start.

"We’ve had a lot of assignments." Bren eventually starts, finally starting to look apprehensive. "This year has been much more intense than the last one, we’re learning a lot of new theory. Some practical skills as well." He looks to the others, subconsciously fiddling with the cuffs of his sweater as he scratches at the scars hidden under the sleeves, but he quickly continues. "We don’t get a lot of down time. We’re working very closely with Master Ikithon still, he's really taken us under his wing. He’s a great mentor, but he works us pretty hard."

Una frowns concernedly. "Not too hard I hope?"

"No, not at all." Bren smiles, an edge of discomfort to it that he quickly covers by taking a bite of a biscuit.

"We’re actually only here for a week." Astrid says, taking over for Bren. "We’ve so much work to get through, we can’t stay longer unfortunately."

Use looks immediately disappointed. "But you always have three weeks off for major holidays? What’s changed this year?"

"Assessments." Wulf says, mouth half full of his second biscuit. He swallows hastily. "We have some very important assessments we need to prepare for in the next few weeks. Exams and things."

"It’s annoying, but it can’t be helped unfortunately." Bren finishes, giving his mother a consoling smile.

Una narrows her eyes, looking at each of them in turn suspiciously. "What are you three hiding?"

Astrid swallows nervously, hoping she’s managing to keep her face blank. Master Ikithon has started teaching them how to do that recently, keeping their emotions in check not just inside, but in their body language too. Looking at the others though, it’s clear they’re a long way from mastering it yet. Una crosses her arms impatiently.

"Can we wait till Vater is here?" Bren asks, not looking hopeful.

"Should I be worried?" She asks. Her gaze shifts to Astrid, more specifically Astrid's stomach.

Astrid's hands fly to her lap. "No! No," she laughs nervously, "it’s not that!"

"Mutter!" Bren puts his head in his hands. "I told you before, we’re being safe." He flushes bright red. Wulf coughs, choking on crumbs as he tries not to laugh.

"I know, I know." Una shrugs, sitting back in her chair. "But these things happen sometimes, and you’re all acting very strangely. Your father won’t be back for at least another hour, I can’t have you all sitting here looking guilty for that long without knowing what it is so, please, just tell me. Are you in trouble?"

"We’re not in trouble Mutter, I promise. It’s just a bit… surprising is all." Una raises an eyebrow questioningly. Bren takes a deep breath, clearly stalling for time while he works out what to say. "It’s just… well… Astrid and I… well we’re not actually Astrid and I any more…"

"You broke up?" Una asks, looking between the two of them.

"Um, no. No we didn’t break up. We’re just… well we’re not exactly a two any more."

Una looks thoroughly confused. "Spit it out Bren."

"There are three of us now." He takes another breath, looking suddenly nervous despite his assurances earlier that Una would be ecstatic. "There’s Astrid, and I… and Eadwulf."

Una stares at him for a minute before smiling. "Are you saying that the three of you are together now?"

Bren nods. "We are, ja."

Una's mouth drops open in shock, quickly replaced by a beaming smile as she presses a hand to her chest. "Oh… since when?"

"A few months." He replies sheepishly.

"Months! Why didn’t you tell us sooner?"

"I wanted to tell you face to face. And we’ve been taking things slowly… sort of. Well we meant to but it just all slotted into place and… it’s been great. So… you’re ok with it?" He asks, biting his lip.

Una tuts chidingly. "Bren Aldric Ermendrud, how could you ask me that? Are you happy?" He nods bashfully. "Then how could I ever be anything but pleased for you? For all of you."

"We should take our bags upstairs and make a move." Bren hurries to his feet, clearing his throat loudly to cover the quake of sudden emotion in his voice. "Astrid has to be home before nightfall."

"Will you tell your parents about the three of you Astrid?" Una asks, also getting to her feet.

Astrid immediately shakes her head, cringing. "Not this week, not with Master Ikithon… oh Bren, you didn’t tell her yet."

"Oh, ja. Master Ikithon wants to meet you when he comes to take us back to the Academy at the end of the week." Bren says nonchalantly. Astrid supposes it must be nice to have parents that are not a complete and utter embarrassment. She’s not feeling nearly as relaxed about Master Ikithon meeting her own mother and father.

Una's eyes go wide. "An Archmage wants to meet us? Whatever for?"

"Something about reassuring you he’s looking after us." Bren shrugs. "It’s nothing Mutter, honestly, just a formality." He pauses, raising an eyebrow. "You’re not going to go on one of your cleaning rampages are you? Because there’s really no need…"

"Of course not." Una snorts indignantly. "If our home is good enough for us, it’s good enough for some fancy pants Archmage. Though…" she walks over to one of the small lead-lined windows, licking her thumb and rubbing at something Astrid can’t make out on the already impeccably clean glass. "Perhaps I will give the windows a quick once over. And the hearth could do with a good sweep. Not for Master Ikithon's benefit of course, it just needs doing."

"Right." Bren says dryly. Una crosses her arms and gives him a warning look. "Let’s get you home Astrid."

"I’ll walk her." Wulf says quickly, grinning. "Got to keep up the ruse haven’t we. And besides, you can help your Mutter with those extra jobs."

"An excellent idea Eadwulf." Una beams. "And while I remember, just one more thing. Bren, you’ll be sleeping on the couch."

"What? Why?!"

Una raises an eyebrow amusedly. "Did you think I was going to allow you two to sleep in the same room now that you’re together?"

Bren's face falls sullenly. "Me though?"

"Of course you! Eadwulf is a guest. As close to family as a guest ever was, but a guest all the same. And don’t let me find you sneaking back into your room at night thinking you can get one past me. If I get one hint that you two have been up to anything under this roof, you’ll be sleeping in the barn Bren."

Astrid bites her lip, trying to hide her amusement. Wulf sniggers beside her, earning a glare from Bren. "Fine."

Una rolls her eyes at her son, turning to Astrid. "It was lovely seeing you again Astrid. I hope you find the opportunity to visit us again this week, you know you’re welcome any time."

"Thank you Frau Ermendrud." She smiles back, getting to her feet and shouldering her bag, which Wulf quickly takes from her to carry instead.

Heading down the valley towards home, Astrid begins to feel a rising sense of dread, and not only because she has to face her mother again. Being without the boys on their previous trips home had been hard enough. This time, it comes at a point when the three of them have been almost inseparable. They spend every night tangled up together, and sleeping is struggle enough with the comfort of having them there. The thought of spending seven nights alone is almost unbearable.

"You’re quiet." Wulf says as they near the halfway point, startling her. "Are you ok?"

"No." She admits quietly. "I’ll miss you both."

Wulf stops, pulling her into a tight hug. "We’ll see you every day. I’ll make sure of it."

"It’s not the same."

"I know. But hey, Bren and I aren’t going to be sleeping together either, if it makes you feel better?"

She pulls back to look up at him, screwing up her nose. "Why would that make me feel better?"

"I don’t know. Solidarity?" He shrugs, lips quirking into a smile. "Things don’t seem so bad if you know someone else is going through it with you. It’s a lot less lonely."

She can’t deny that, going on personal experience. She takes his hand and starts off again towards home, trying not to worry about tonight.

***************

A few gloomy days and sleep deprived nights later, the Day of Heart and Hearth finally rolls around. And it’s as quiet and bleak as Astrid had expected. Gifts exchanged with only enough interest to be vaguely polite, a bland lunch of chicken and root vegetables, and then they sit all together in the sitting room ignoring each other in silence under the guise of spending quality time together. Astrid finally can take no more.

Her father sits placidly to one side of the fireplace reading, her mother on the other side knitting, hardly a picture of festive joy. Astrid can’t even remember when they last spoke to each other, or even acknowledged each other's existence. They’ve never been the warmest of families, but seeing how different things are with the Ermendrud's has really brought it home to Astrid just how cold her parents are.

"Can I go and see Eadwulf?" She eventually asks, desperate for an escape. "I want to give him his gift."

Her mother doesn’t even glance up from the mass of yarn in her lap. "Won’t that be awkward?" She asks, sounding thoroughly uninterested. 

"Awkward? Why?" Astrid frowns.

"Are you and Bren on good terms now? I thought he couldn’t stand either of you."

He’s great Mutter, we’re actually all fucking now, is what she wants to say. Hiding a smile, she answers properly. "He had to get over it." Astrid shrugs, the lie coming to her much more naturally now than it would have months ago, before Master Ikithon’s mentoring. "We have classes together every day. We shared a carriage here. He and Wulf share a dorm." Another lie… "They talked it out and Bren's ok now. We all get on pretty well." That's not technically a lie, just economical with the truth…

Her mother sighs, clearly bored. Which was exactly what Astrid had hoped her rambling answer would achieve. "Yes, you may go. Don’t be home late."

Astrid tries to contain her relief and not rush as she dons her outdoor layers and gathers the small bag of hastily sourced gifts she’s been concealing under her bed. One gift for Wulf would be acceptable, but if her mother found that she’d actually acquired gifts for the whole Ermendrud family, that would arouse suspicion. Of course, forgetting about the trip home had put considerable time pressure on her ability to source gifts, and coupled with having only a small amount of coin available, the choice had been limited. In her desperation she’d had to resort to baking for the boys, which was always going to pale in comparison to what Una had been feeding them, but they aren't exactly fussy with food, especially anything sweet.

For Una she’d found a hair ribbon, and she’d managed to get some tobacco for Leofric. They’d likely scold her for buying them gifts, however small, but she could hardly turn up empty handed. And besides, the Ermendrud's had become like family to her this past year and a half. They’d shown her what a real mother and father should be like. She smiles to herself as she wraps her scarf around her neck and closes the front door behind her, wondering if one day she, Bren and Wulf might get the chance to make a home together with even half the warmth and love she’s experienced in the Ermendrud's little farmhouse.

The trek up the valley and over the fields takes longer than usual with the snow laying at least a foot deep over more exposed ground, much deeper where drifts have formed against trees and hedges. By the time she reaches the farmyard gate she has to stop a moment to catch her breath.

She lets out a little squeak of surprise as Frumpkin jumps up onto one of the gate posts as she leans against it, and rubs his head into her mitten. "Very subtle fluff ball." She smiles, giving him a fuss. Scooping him up under her free arm and picking up the bag of gifts, she makes her way to the front door and knocks.

It opens after a few seconds, revealing Bren. "Seasons greetings." He grins, taking a loudly purring Frumpkin from her and giving her a lingering kiss. "We were hoping you’d manage to get away. Wulf and I were going to come and see you if you hadn’t made an appearance before nightfall."

"I've half a mind not to go back." She grumbles, kicking her boots against the outside wall to knock the snow off of them.

"That bad is it?"

She shrugs. "Same old. I’m glad to be here with all of you now." She smiles at that and kisses him again.

She shrugs off her overcoat, boots and waxed trousers, which Bren takes to hang near the fire to dry, as Astrid is suddenly enveloped by the force of nature that is Una fussing over whether she’s well, if she’s hungry, and in the end deciding to go get her a plate of food regardless of the answer. An amused Wulf and Leofric take their chance to say hello as Una bustles off to the kitchen, before Bren leads her through to the sitting room to find a chair.

The snug space seems full to bursting with the five of them there, but Astrid couldn’t imagine anything more perfect. Una's cooking and baking smells make her mouth water despite her not having had lunch all that long ago, and the fire is roaring away bringing just a hint of comforting hickory smoke into the room. Pine, holly and ivy boughs have been hung in every available space, the greenery a beautiful festive addition. Astrid takes it all in carefully, wanting the memory to last forever.

The rest of the day is a blur of mulled wine, far too much extremely delicious food, laughter, and very badly sung traditional Zemnian winter folk songs. And fitting with what Astrid has heard is a festive tradition for many families, there’s even a slightly heated political debate between Bren and Leofric.

"Ordinary people just can’t fully understand the nuance of politics, all the factors in play in their every day lives and how they interlink. They need to be guided." Bren says matter of factly, draining the last of his mug of mulled wine.

"Like cattle?" Leofric scoffs.

Bren nods with a little shrug. "If you want to think of it like that then yes."

Leofric raises an eyebrow. "People aren’t cattle son. And they’re not stupid."

"I’m not saying they are Vater," Bren sighs impatiently, "I’m just saying, it’s in the best interests of the masses to let those in power do the thinking for them. Leave it to those who actually understand how the world works to make all the decisions."

Leofric looks affronted, about to answer when Una stands up, clapping her hands together.

"Time for supper I think! Bren, go and get some more wood from the store in the barn please, the log pile is looking a little depleted. Leofric, come and help me in the kitchen." She ushers the two of them into action, ending the argument before it gets too heated, rolling her eyes amusedly to Astrid and Wulf who had been watching the exchange with equal measures of interest and awkwardness.

"Bren isn’t wrong." Wulf says quietly to her when they’re alone in the sitting room.

Astrid shakes her head. "No, he isn’t. But it’s hard for people to understand when they haven’t been immersed in it like we have. He shouldn’t expect his parents to just accept it. Like Master Ikithon says, people don’t like to feel shepherded, even if it’s in their best interests."

Wulf nods in agreement before swooping in to steal a kiss, making her giggle. His hand strokes down her back, moving around her flank and back up, thumb just brushing the side of her breast. "We’ve both really missed you this week by the way."

"I can see." She smirks, nipping his bottom lip before pulling away. "How's it been, trying to keep your hands off each other?"

"Torture." He sighs dramatically. "It’s all well and good being here together, and I know we’ve had it much easier than you in that respect, but it’s such a tease! We can barely sneak a kiss before someone walks in on us, let alone anything else."

Astrid tries not to smile, but she can’t quite hide her amusement. "My poor boys. Have you not managed to find any alone time at all?"

"Only once." He replies pitifully. "Yesterday, Leofric asked us to go into the forest to chop wood for today. Let’s just say we made the most of it." He finishes with a wicked grin. Astrid can’t help the little flush of jealousy that wells up.

"I’ll have to take you both out to the forest myself before this trip home is over. See if I can’t find myself some wood too."

Wulf snorts a laugh and kisses her again, pulling away as Una returns with a platter laden with cut ham and steaming apple slices.

A few hours later, with the sun fully set and so full of food she’s fit to burst, Astrid reluctantly begins to say her goodbyes and prepares to walk home. Bren and Eadwulf both insist on walking her home, which she’s not opposed to with it being so treacherous underfoot and with more snow due. It’d be just her style to end up on her backside buried in a drift.

It takes a while to leave with so many layers for them all to get into and Una fussing and hugging them all as though she’s never going to see them again. When she starts getting emotional, cupping Bren's face and telling him he’s her beautiful boy over and over, Leofric gently ushers her away. "Let’s sit you down my darling. I think all that mulled wine has finally caught up to you." She laughs and sniffles in agreement, and Bren makes a hasty retreat through the front door, still shrugging into his overcoat.

"I love your Mutter." Wulf smirks as he and Astrid catch up. "And she’s not wrong, you are a beautiful boy."

Bren grunts and screws up his nose, ignoring him. "Did you have a good time Astrid?"

"It’s without doubt the best Day of Heart and Hearth I’ve ever had." She smiles, sighing. "But you might have to roll me home. Your mother fed me a little too well."

Bren laughs. "Ja, she's good like that."

The terrain is tough going over the pastures sloping down the valley towards the town, and slippery too, the clear night skies making temperatures plummet and creating patches of snow that become a sudden ice rink without warning. Even eighteen years of harsh Zemnian winters isn’t enough to stop them losing their footing every now and then, and after Wulf takes a hard slip in a buried plough furrow, they decide to take a rest.

"We’re about half way, judging by that." Bren says, pointing to one of the guard towers up the hill in the distance, the orange glow of torches on the high platform just visible. "May as well just sit for a while and enjoy the view. You don’t see skies like this in Rexxentrum."

Astrid sits beside him, tilting her head back to look up at the inky black expanse abone awash with stars. Catha, the larger of the two moons, dwarfs the twinkling lights, smaller red Ruidus not visible this late in the year. They have almost a full 360 degree view of the sky from up here, and she has to admit, it is breathtakingly beautiful.

She jumps as something bumps her arm, looking down to find Wulf offering her his hip flask. "To take the edge off the cold." He grins.

She won’t argue with that, taking a good gulp of the whiskey inside before passing it to Bren. They sit quietly for a bit after that, enjoying the peace. Eventually, it’s Bren who breaks the silence. "Is it bad that I wish today would never end?"

"Why would that be bad?" Astrid asks, idly making a pile of snow with the heels of her boots.

"We have duties to carry out, lessons to learn. But sometimes… I don’t know…" he sighs, laying back in the powdery snow. "It all feels like too much."

Astrid nods, and sees Wulf do the same. "It does. I wish today would never end too, it's been so perfect. And I am looking forward to getting back to our studies, but the work we do in Rexxentrum, it’s hard. You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed."

"You’ve been feeling this way for a while haven’t you?" Wulf asks. Bren nods, looking ashamed. "You can tell us anything Bren, you know that. We’ll never judge you for it."

"I know. I just don’t like admitting it to myself, let alone to you. Sometimes, it feels as though I’m breaking apart. As though I'm stretched too far and I might snap. Does that make sense?"

"It does." Astrid holds out a gloved hand, which he leans over to take. "Never struggle alone." He smiles at her, seeming more at peace than she’s seen him look in months. The truth is, she has been worried about him. Even before his confrontation with Bashere he was struggling. He’s always been the one of them to find the mental strain of their extra studies hardest.

"You know what?" Wulf says, looking out over the warm glow of lights in the town spread out below them in the valley. "However tough it is, that makes it all worth it. All those people down there, enjoying their Day of Heart and Hearth without a care in the world, they can do that because of us, and all the people like us who go through this pain so that they don’t have to. Doesn’t that make you feel proud?"

She and Bren nod in agreement. "You’re not wrong Wulf." Sighing, Astrid looks back up at the sky once more before hauling herself to her feet. "Let’s get moving again. I’ve got to be back before it gets too late, and you two have got to make the return journey after you leave me. You’ll be out here at midnight still if we don’t get a move on."

The boys groan as they rise as well, and it’s still hard walking, but they eventually reach the meadow above her house. She gives them both a kiss goodnight, too tired and happy to care if her mother sees. "Take the road back. It’ll probably take less time, even if it’s usually the longer route. We should never have tried to go across the fields."

"In hindsight that was stupid." Bren chuckles. "See, you tomorrow?"

"Oh, did Wulf not tell you?" She grins as she begins walking away down the hillside. "We’re going to the forest tomorrow to get some wood." She looks over her shoulder with a smirk as Wulf begins to laugh, Bren frowning in confusion. "Goodnight. Love you."

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed all that fluff. Hold onto your hats because things are about to get rough…

From the playlist, this chapter's song is Love Is Fire by Freya Ridings.

Chapter 38: Memories

Notes:

Thank you to anyone who has stuck with it this far, I never could have anticipated how long this thing was going to be! Thanks for all your kudos and comments, they mean so much ❤️

And so we arrive at the beginning of the end…

"Astrid."

Astrid sits bolt upright in bed gasping, heart racing. "What the fuck…?"

"I will be coming to meet your parents half an hour from now." Master Ikithon's voice continues in her head. "Make sure to be at home with them if you aren’t already."

She steadies her breath just enough to reply to the message, hoping she doesn’t sound too groggy. "Yes Master Ikithon, I’ll be here."

Stumbling out of bed and opening her curtains, she finds the sun is only just beginning to rise over the valley to the east. Can’t be much past seven, she thinks to herself, stretching. She smiles, imagining the boys just a few miles up the hill being woken up in much the same manner. Well perhaps not Bren. He’s usually already awake and reading by this time.

After telling her parents Master Ikithon is on his way she grabs a quick bite to eat while her mother hurries to tidy every inch of the already spotless house, packs her bag, and dresses in her uniform. Amid the amusing chaos of her mother's frantic and unnecessary cleaning, Astrid realises that while its been nice visiting home, or at least visiting Bren's home, she feels ready to get back to the Academy and start work again. She’s in good spirits by the time there’s finally a knock at the door, which her mother ushers her to answer, tutting impatiently.

"Good morning Master Ikithon."

"Good morning Astrid." He smiles toothily. She gestures for him to enter, trying not to die from embarrassment at the prospect of him meeting her parents.

When he enters the sitting room, her mother actually curtsies, and Astrid has to resist the urge to facepalm. Her father belatedly offers a sketchy bow, earning a quick glare from his wife. "Archmage Ikithon," she says with the widest smile Astrid has ever seen on the woman, "welcome to our humble abode. We are so incredibly honoured to have you here. Could I get you anything to eat or drink?"

"Thank you Frau Becke, but that won’t be necessary, regrettably I cannot stay long." Master Ikithon says, managing to sound genuinely apologetic. "I wanted to congratulate you on having such an accomplished daughter. Astrid is an asset to the Academy, we are lucky to have her with us. You must be very proud."

"Oh, so proud!" Her mother gushes. "We were so pleased when she gained her scholarship, it was one of the happiest days of our lives. It’s been wonderful to see her learn so much at your esteemed establishment, and to have you tutoring her personally, I can’t tell you how honoured we are."

"Of course, of course." Master Ikithon nods. "I wanted to assure you that Astrid is in very good hands. We pride ourselves on maintaining a careful balance of work and wellbeing for our students."

"I’ve never had any doubts Archmage, she’s certainly thrived under your care. I only hope she knows how lucky she is to have patron such as yourself!"

To Astrid's immense relief, Master Ikithon decides it’s time to leave, thanking her parents for their kind words and bidding them a swift but polite farewell. Her mother curtsies again as she shows them out, even giving Astrid a hug and a kiss on the cheek to really sell her doting mother act.

"I suspect you’re glad that’s over." Master Ikithon smiles knowingly.

She smiles back at him sheepishly. "I really am. They’re so embarrassing. I’m looking forward to getting back to the Academy, we must have a lot to catch up on?" They reach the garden gate and Master Ikithon holds it open for her, gesturing for her to go ahead of him. "Have you been to see Bren's mother and father yet? I warn you Sir, if you haven’t, Frau Ermendrud will insist on trying to feed you…"

The world suddenly lurches and she misses her step, almost tripping into the road. "Are you alright?" She hears Master Ikithon ask, though it sounds almost distant, as though her ears are full of cotton wool. "I can tell something is troubling you. We have to go and meet Eadwulf now, but as soon as we’re back at the Academy I’ll make time for you to tell me whatever it is that’s upset you so badly." Blinking through the fog in her mind, she manages to nod in response.

They walk a short way along the road, finding Bren waiting on a low snowy bank beside the lane. She barely notices, too wrapped up in her own thoughts. Traitors. My parents are traitors…

The world lurches again, taking her by surprise, but she recognises it this time as Master Ikithon's familiar teleportation spell. The Archmage is talking again, and she should be listening but she just can’t focus. She's in shock she supposes, but who wouldn’t be after hearing their parents saying what she’d heard them say?

"Astrid? Did you hear what I said?"

She blinks at Master Ikithon's concerned face, a hint of impatience visible. "I’m sorry, I…"

"Both of you wait here, I’ll return soon with Eadwulf."

She nods but he’s already walking away towards the forge, leaving her and Bren a short distance away around a bend in the road. Sitting down heavily on a snow covered stump, she can just see their tutor through the trees greeting Wulf who waits beside the gate, the two of them making their way inside.

Astrid slumps, resting her head in her hands as tears stream down her cheeks, unable to hold them in any longer. She's long disliked her mother, is largely indifferent towards her impassive father, but she never could have anticipated that they would sink as low as this. It seems unbelievable, and yet she’d heard them with her own ears just before Master Ikithon had arrived, a hushed conversation about a meeting with other townsfolk, a plot to bring down the Assembly and overthrow the King. Her own parents, traitors.

"They're part of it too then?"

Astrid looks up, startled. She’d forgotten Bren was even there in her distress. She notices for the first time that he looks pale, his eyes hollow and red rimmed as though he’s been crying too. "What?"

"Your parents. Are they part of the plot too? That’s what you’re upset about isn’t it?" He asks, voice unnervingly cold.

She nods, pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. Not Una and Leofric too. Please not them… He sighs, looking out into the woods with the blank stare of someone whose world has been utterly shattered, confirming her fears. Astrid breaks down after that, breath coming in short gasps as she weeps.

When Master Ikithon returns with Eadwulf, she tries as best she can to calm herself, scrubbing at her face with her gloved hands and taking a few deep breaths. Wulf, she notes, looks incredibly tense. There’s a rage in him that’s barely contained.

"Well," Master Ikithon says, expression grim. "I can see that we have a lot to talk about. Whatever has happened must be very serious indeed for you all to have been so badly affected. Come. Let us return to Rexxentrum and discuss what has upset you."

Within minutes they’re situated in his office at the Academy, the fireplace blazing away but doing nothing to warm the chill deep in Astrid's bones. Wulf sits beside her, holding her hand comfortingly while clearly struggling himself.

Bren, seated to her other side, just watches the fire in the hearth, silent and unmoving.

"If you’re ready," the Arch Mage begins, carefully arranging his robes and sitting in his own chair behind the large desk, "perhaps you could tell me what is the matter? I’d like to try and help if I can."

Astrid can’t even fathom where to begin. She can’t speak through the lump that’s formed in her throat, can’t organise her thoughts through the haze of shock.

"When I arrived at my parent's home this morning," Wulf begins, voice tight with disgust, "I could hear them talking through the door, so I decided to listen for a moment. I wanted to put off going inside for as long as possible because we’re not on good terms. I heard my mother say that it was time to make a coordinated strike that would make the King and the Assembly listen, that they’d trampled the people for too long. My father said that the others at a meeting the night before had said much the same, that it was time for them to join those already active in the network in Rexxentrum and take action."

Master Ikithon looks on, troubled. "Go on Eadwulf. Was there more?"

The large man nods with a snarl. "My mother asked what it was they planned to do. And my father…" he takes a shuddering breath, visibly trying to calm himself, "my father replied, 'it’s time we took the false King's head.' They laughed and talked about displaying it on a spike over Castle Ungebroch for the people to see. That the ordinary people would take that as a sign and join them in rising up against the Assembly. They said they would forcibly remove the Archmages and choose an Emperor, someone who would make the Zemni fields the great power it was before."

"That is… undoubtedly disturbing." Master Ikithon says, pursing his lips grimly. "You mentioned a meeting. Did they say anything more about who had attended?"

Wulf shakes his head. "No, only that it had happened late last night and that there were others there. I don’t know how many."

Astrid clears her throat. "I heard my mother and father discussing the same thing this morning. She said the turnout had been impressive, at least three dozen, and she knew of more who supported their cause but had been too scared to attend. My father was pleased. He said that there were mutterings of support among some of his colleagues too. He’s a civil servant."

"This rebellion clearly runs very deep in Blumenthal then." Master Ikithon sighs. "Did they mention any names? A venue? Anything more about this network in Rexxentrum?" Astrid shakes her head, looking down at her hands clasped together with Wulf's in her lap. "Bren?"

She looks over to find Bren still staring into the fireplace. He’s silent and still for a long moment, before slowly getting up and walking out of the office, leaving the door open behind him.

Master Ikithon sighs again. "I know this must be a lot for you all to take in. Finding out something so terrible about the people who raised you must be an enormous shock. I cannot begin to tell you how much I sympathise, and I thank you both for your honesty."

"I don’t owe them anything." Wulf says darkly. "All they ever did was cause me pain. I should have seen this coming a mile off…"

"You mustn’t blame yourselves. No one would suspect something this awful of their own parents. It is only because you have been exposed to a deeper understanding of the world that you could now recognise the signs."

Astrid glances towards the door, swallowing down fresh tears threatening to spill. "Master Ikithon, could I go and make sure Bren is alright please? This has hit him the hardest of any of us. His parents, they’re… they’re everything to him. They were everything to all of us…" she breaks off, swallowing down a sob at the idea of Una and Leofric being a part of this. It’s too horrible to contemplate.

"You may." Master Ikithon answers stoically. "But I must ask something of you both first. I need to establish the facts, get my people into Blumenthal to find out as much as possible and confirm everything you have told me. It is not that I disbelieve you, but information can become distorted in situations of high emotion, and I must know everything I can before I decide what to do."

"Of course." Eadwulf nods in understanding. "We’ll help in any way we can."

"I know you will. What I need more than anything from you now is to help me contain this. You must speak to no one about what you overheard, no one but me. If the rebels in the city get wind of what we know, they could go deep into hiding, or worse bring forward an attack. The King's life could be in grave danger if this gets out, do you understand?"

"Yes Master Ikithon. We won’t say anything to anyone." Astrid nods, digging deep to find some courage. It makes her feel a little better knowing that they have work to do, even if that work is simply keeping their mouths shut.

"Thank you. And if you could speak to Bren for me, convince him to come to me and tell me what he heard. If he can't, at the very least make sure he agrees to stay silent as well. It is of the utmost importance."

Wulf sighs tiredly, giving her hand a little squeeze. "We’ll do our best Sir."

"I know you will. You are dismissed, take the rest of the day for yourselves. Find Bren as soon as you can and do whatever you must to make him understand. The Empire depends on it."

*****************

Astrid practically runs all the way to the accommodation block, flying up the stairs half in a panic. She throws open Bren's bedroom door, and finding him missing, does the same with her own door and Wulf's.

"He’s not here." She pants out of breath, turning to stride back down the hall just as Wulf catches up. "He might have gone to the library. He finds the books and the quiet comforting..."

"Astrid, stop." He grabs her arm gently but firmly, pulling her to a stop in front of him. "Or at least slow down. Just for a moment while you get your breath back."

"We have to find him."

"I know but I’m worried about you too. Are you ok?"

"No." She sighs, fighting back tears again, determined not to let them fall. "I need to keep busy."

He briefly pulls her into a tight hug, kissing the top of her head. "In that case, let’s keep moving."

When they reach the library they split up to search the huge building more efficiently, Wulf taking the bottom two floors, Astrid the top two. It’s takes a while to check everywhere, with so many dark corners and study spaces, but they know the space well by now and when they meet back at the ground floor lobby with no sign of him, they’re confident they’ve covered every part of the building.

"Where next?" Wulf asks.

Astrid wills her clouded mind to think of anywhere else Bren likes to go, anywhere he might find comforting. "The dance hall, kitchens… no those will be too busy at this time of day, he’ll be somewhere quiet. He could be anywhere, an empty classroom…' she pauses mid sentence, looking up at Wulf. "Maybe the tower top. He likes it up there, we used to sit and watch the sunset there sometimes."

Wulf takes her hand and they make their way towards the main academic building again, heading for the derelict corridor and the tower beyond. They come here regularly now, Master Ikithon having repurposed one of the abandoned rooms on the top level to house the equipment for their crystal experiments, to save them having to teleport to Vergesson every time.

When they reach the room with the hatch in the ceiling, Astrid feels a little spark of hope as they find the trap door open, weak midday light streaming into the dim dusty space from the overcast sky. A pile of snow dusts the floorboards underneath, fallen in from the flat roof.

"Bren?" She calls, scaling the rickety wooden steps up to the rooftop. She sighs with relief upon seeing him, sitting in the centre of the roof staring out at the horizon. "We were worried."

She crouches beside him, the biting icy wind whipping at her cloak. Wulf moves to sit on his other side, pressing the back of his hand to Bren's cheek. "You’re freezing. Come inside, you need to warm up."

Bren ignores him, not reacting. "What do you need?" Astrid tries, wrapping her cloak around him as much as she can, Wulf following suit to do the same.

He’s quiet for a few moments before answering, voice rasping. "I don’t know. For this morning not to have happened. To wake up and find it was just another nightmare."

"I can relate to that." Astrid laughs humourlessly, the tears she’s been managing to hold in for a while finally spilling over. "I don’t care about my parents. I mean, I do. I’m so angry, and so… ashamed of them. But yours… could you have misinterpreted Bren? Is there any chance they’re not involved?"

He swallows hard, tears of his own beginning to fall as he stares out over the city. "I went up to my room after Wulf left, to pack my bag. When I came back to the top of the stairs, I heard my father saying that the Empire would finally be restored to how it had been in the past with an emperor in power, and the remnants of the Julios dominion grovelling at our feet. He said he was a proud Zemnian, and he was glad someone was finally doing something about it."

Bren looks down at his hands resting in his lap before continuing. "My mother joked about her proud Righteous Brand husband sitting down to eat a good breakfast because he’d need his strength for what was to come. She asked if there were solid plans in place yet. He answered that the meeting had seen a good turnout, that they were awaiting orders from the faction in Rexxentrum, but that it shouldn't be more than a week or two before they mobilised. My mother…" he swallows hard, voice thick with emotion, "she made a joke about it being funny that an Archmage was going to be right there in the house. That maybe she should save some time and shove a carving knife through his heart while he least expected it. My father laughed and said it would be a mercy, like putting down a rabid dog."

"It’s just so unlike them." Wulf says, shaking his head in disbelief. "Your father was a soldier."

"Maybe that’s where he picked up some of his discontent?" Astrid knows she’s clutching at straws. "It's all just talk Bren, surely? I can’t believe they’d actually ever do anything to harm the Empire."

Bren pauses, looking out at the city again. "After she joked about killing Master Ikithon, my father told her that as the leader of the Blumenthal faction, he would make sure I was spared in the initial attack, turn me to their side and use what I’d learned at the Academy against the Assembly."

A wave of white hot shock courses through her like a jolt. "The leader?" She hears Wulf say. "Your father is the ring leader?"

"Apparently." Bren says, voice as cold as the wind. His shoulders suddenly jerk as he begins to sob, taking deep gasping breaths and collapsing against Wulf's chest, the shock finally giving way to anguish. Astrid presses into him as close as she can and rubs his back as she continues to quietly shed her own tears. Oh Bren…

"It’s alright." Wulf comforts as best he can. "You’ve got us Bren. You’ll always have us."

But Astrid knows it’s not the same. Nothing will ever heal this, not for any of them, but especially not for Bren. Knowing that the people who brought you up are against everything you stand for, having your whole world fall apart, is so intensely lonely even if you’re going through it with someone else. Her parent's house, even Blumenthal as a whole, hasn’t felt like home for a long time for Astrid. But while Bren loves it here in Rexxentrum, Una and Leofric have always been a grounding force for him, a place of safety and unconditional love to fall back on. One overheard conversation has ripped that from him. It’s as though everything he thought he knew has been a lie.

She can’t even begin to think what will happen in the coming days. The thought ties her stomach in knots. It’s enough trying to take in today’s events, let alone wondering what Master Ikithon’s investigation will bring to light, or what action will need to be taken after that. She tries not to dwell on what’s to come, pushing down her own hurt and focussing on the broken man in her arms who needs them more than ever now. He’s already been struggling. Astrid begins to worry just how much more he can take.

Notes:

From the playlist this time, I really love Dance Monkey by Tones and I. It’s always made me think of Trent manipulating the Volstrucker to dance to his tune.

Chapter 39: An Obvious Choice

Notes:

As always your comments mean the world, I love hearing your feedback. I still can’t believe people have actually read all 38 chapters that have been posted so far!

Today I met my NaNoWriMo daily word count goal by finishing the last chapter. And there was a paragraph that very nearly made me cry. So look forward to that one! Enjoy chapter 39 ❤️

The next few days are surreal. At times, Astrid could pretend that the events of the morning they returned to Rexxentrum had never happened, Master Ikithon setting them back to work on almost their usual routine after giving them that first day to themselves. He does at least go easy on them, and there’s more opportunity for quiet study as he has to leave them to attend meetings. He doesn’t tell them what he’s doing of course, but they all know it’s related to the trouble in Blumenthal.

None of them are doing well by any means, but Bren in particular has continued to fall apart, just as Astrid had feared.

"What do we do?" Wulf whispers to her on the third evening after they returned, once Bren has finally fallen asleep emotionally exhausted. They barely dare to move in fear of waking him again, sitting huddled together under a blanket on the floor opposite his bed, "He can’t go on like this Astrid."

She reaches for Wulf's fingers, lacing them together. "I know. I don’t think there’s anything we can do except be here for him."

"He barely sleeps, he hasn’t eaten since we got back. He's hardly even spoken since we found him at the tower. Maybe we should talk to Master Ikithon, tell him he’s not coping? He might be able to help."

Astrid has wondered the same herself. But there’s a niggling doubt there too, a worry that if the Archmage thinks Bren is weak, he'll end his tutoring. She’s not sure what he’d do after that, especially now that going home isn’t an option.

"I think for now, we just give him time and look after him as best we can. It’s only been three days, he’s probably still in shock." She sighs, leaning her head back against the wall. "I think I’m only coping myself because he needs me to be strong."

Wulf wraps an arm around her, pulling her close into his chest. "You’re doing great."

"So are you."

Wulf laughs softly, though there’s no mirth in it. "Am I? I’m just so angry. Not just at my parents, my father especially has never exactly been a good man, or patriotic. I could almost have expected it of him. But Una and Leofric?" He shakes his head. "It’s utter madness."

"Their home was everything I wanted ours to be one day. They seemed so perfect, when under it all they were just as bad as the people we see in the dungeons at Vergesson. I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like Bashere all over again, but so much worse. How many times did they lie to us? How much of their kindness was genuine?"

Wulf takes a breath, his eyes falling on Bren. "Did they allow him to go to the Academy just so that they could use him later? You heard what Bren said, they wanted to try to convince him to turn against the Empire and fight for them. Would they have done the same with us, or were we just expendable?"

"I don’t think we’ll ever know." Astrid whispers sadly. "What we’re already aware of is bad enough. I’m terrified to hear what else Master Ikithon's people manage to uncover, especially about the Ermendrud's. I can’t bear to see Bren's heart break any more than it already has."

****************

Bren is a little brighter the next morning after managing to sleep a few hours. Astrid feels a small but very welcome surge of hope that perhaps she was right and he really did just need time. He manages to eat some porridge over breakfast but barely speaks still, staring off across the empty canteen with a faraway look. With the holidays continuing for the other students, it’s only them in residence at the moment. Astrid isn’t sure if that’s a help or a hindrance. Usually she’d welcome the privacy and quiet, but it’s so out of place. The school is eerie without students, and she could have done with the normality to balance the chaos going on in her head.

Their first destination after breakfast is the library, where Master Ikithon has set them a research task identifying more advanced spells they might want to begin learning during the next term. Bren would normally be excited by that prospect, and while he’s certainly more animated than he has been in the past few days, he’s nowhere near his usual self. Still, it feels like a victory of sorts.

Wulf suddenly let’s out a gasp, head snapping up from his book. His expression changes quickly from wide eyed surprise to a frown of concentration, and Astrid can guess he’s receiving a message. She and Bren watch him nervously until he nods to himself and rises from his chair, packing up his satchel hurriedly. "Yes Master Ikithon, we’ll be right there."

Astrid finds herself trembling as they make their way to his office. She knows already that it’s going to be bad, but just how bad is a point of great concern. She keeps glancing over at Bren nervously, trying to remember not to grip his hand too hard.

"I’m ok." He says suddenly, making her jump. "I mean, I’m not. But I’m not made of glass. Whatever he has to tell us, I can take it."

Wulf smiles at him, close to one of his usual beaming grins, but there’s an edge of fear to it that unnerves Astrid. "Of course you can. We’ll get through it together."

She wishes she had his confidence.

"You no doubt can imagine why I’ve called you here." Master Ikithon begins when they’re all seated in his office. He stands in front of his desk with his hands clasped in his robes, expression grim. "I’ll get straight to the point. It’s not good news."

"Your people confirmed what we heard? There really is a rebel cell active in Blumenthal?" Wulf asks, voice resigned.

"Yes, there is. And it’s more widespread than I’d hoped. Your information about the meeting seems to have been correct, a few dozen attendees at least. I have a list of confirmed names, and others suspected. This is going to be a long operation, the suspects will need to be interviewed to find out what they know and how deeply involved they are. I will need to work with the remaining residents to settle smaller grievances and enforce above all else that rebellion will not be tolerated."

"Do you think it’s possible to sway them? Once a traitor, always a traitor." Wulf says with open disgust.

"Perhaps. In these instances, when there is a mass following, usually it is the case that there are a few more passionate ringleaders influencing other less committed people who are just generally unsatisfied with their lives. Most people do not care who is in charge as long as they are secure and financially comfortable. Settling those issues is usually enough to dampen their fire, along with a firm reminder of what happens to those more determined to bring down our Empire."

"We kill only when necessary." Astrid repeats a lesson he’s drummed into them repeatedly over the past few months. "Sometimes a softer touch is more efficient."

"Yes…" Master Ikithon says hesitantly, perching on the edge of his desk. "And while that holds to some degree in this case, a soft touch won’t be enough on its own."

"Executions?" Wulf asks. Astrid glances at Bren worriedly.

"For those confirmed to be guilty of leading and actively encouraging the rebellion, yes." Master Ikithon looks at the three of them in turn, eyes somehow simultaneously cold and sympathetic. "I regret to tell you that all of your parents are on that list."

Astrid feels sick. She feels the colour drain from her face, although she’d considered that may be the case. Taking a deep breath, she attempts to stop her hands from trembling in her lap with little success.

Bren clears his throat, but when he speaks his voice is hoarse regardless. "Will you take them to Vergesson?" She can tell what else he wants to ask. Will they be tortured before they’re killed?

Master Ikithon looks at them, his expression impossible to read. Rising from the desk, he makes his way to his chair and sits, leaning forward. "No. You have seen for yourselves how reluctant some of our more passionate prisoners are to admit what they know, regardless of the pressure we apply. If I can avoid torturing people to get information, I will always choose another route. In this case, we are not short of witnesses who, with the right persuasion, will likely tell us a great deal more than we could ever hope to learn through torture."

"So you’re not going to torture them?" Bren asks. He’s putting on a brave face, but Astrid can see the pain beyond the coldness in those pale blue eyes.

"It is my belief that their executions will be enough to encourage the rest of the rebels to reassess whether what they’re doing is truly worth it, and to persuade them to assist fully in our investigation." He sighs grimly. "I know this is the worst news I could have given you. But, if it is any consolation, their deaths will not be in vain. Far from it. I am confident that the information we gain from those who speak out as a result will help us to identify those here in Rexxentrum who are at the heart of the rebellion. Your parent's deaths will help to keep the people of the Empire safe by preventing future attacks."

"So you’ll round them up and hang them in the town square? Not the worst way to go." Wulf nods to himself. He sounds almost disappointed. Astrid takes a breath to quash the sudden anger she feels at his being so insensitive to Bren. She tucks away her annoyance to be dealt with later, in private.

"No." Master Ikithon answers, brows furrowing. "It is a little more complicated than that. Their deaths must be public enough that it is clear to the other rebels what has happened to them and why. But it would be unfortunate if it were to become common knowledge across the rest of the Empire. Blumenthal would be marred in bad feeling and suspicion, which may only serve to radicalise others."

"So… what will you do?" Bren asks quietly.

"Their crimes will not be publicly announced, the executions will occur out of public view. Discretion is critical. A few unfortunate murders in a small town are only a point of interest, while the execution of multiple traitors is unnerving. The rest of the Empire must be allowed to continue on in blissful ignorance."

It makes sense, Astrid concedes. The more well known a plot is, the more widespread thoughts of rebellion might become. Keeping the executions hidden is in the public interest, but will send a strong message to those rebels left alive that their challenge to the authority of the Empire won’t be tolerated. The cold hard logic is irrefutable. But it doesn’t take away from the pain of it.

Astrid looks at Bren, watching for any sign of how he might be taking the news. He’s staring at the flames in the fireplace again, expression blank. She reaches for his hand and laces her fingers with his, but he doesn’t react.

"When will you do it?" Wulf asks.

Master Ikithon takes a breath, and Astrid tenses. He’s hesitant. How can things be any worse than they already are?

"While we can’t be certain of the details yet, my agents confirmed what you heard, that an attack is imminent. We believe that this attack centres initially around the guard towers surrounding the town, but we uncovered vague plans for something bigger here in Rexxentrum too." He leans back in his chair, regarding them with an unreadable expression. "Delaying serves no purpose. We need to move quickly to shut down the Blumenthal cell now and learn as much as we can about the larger cell in Rexxentrum."

"So we won’t see them again?" Astrid asks.

Wulf looks at her, brows furrowed. "Why would you want to? They’re disgusting."

"That leads me to the most difficult part of this conversation." Master Ikithon cuts in before Astrid can respond to Wulf. "You have never given me reason to doubt that I can trust you, and I believe that you genuinely did not know about the Blumenthal cell before this week. But I’m sure you can appreciate that your parents being on this list… the optics are not good."

Astrid looks down at her lap, the shame she’s felt these past few days flooding back once more. It's silly, because she knows she could never even begin to contemplate doing what her parents have done. But to know that she shares blood with people who could betray the Empire, it makes her feel disgusting. She feels guilty by association.

"The seriousness of the situation has of course meant that I have had to involve other members of the Assembly, and since they do not know you as I do, they have questioned the trust I have placed in you. It has been decided by the Martinet that proof of your innocence and your commitment to the Empire is required."

Astrid feels suddenly faint, the sound of her heart pounding loud in her ears. "I know that what I ask of you goes against every natural instinct," Master Ikithon continues, the sound faint and distant to her, "but they will die tomorrow, by your hand or another. If you decide that you can't face it, I cannot guarantee what will happen to you. But certainly your time studying with me and at the Academy in general will come to an abrupt end."

Kill our own parents, or we'll have no home, no prospects, and possibly be arrested. She knows it’s not as simple as that, but the choice is stark.

"I am a fair man, obviously I will give you time to consider. Even an obvious choice requires proper contemplation…"

"I’ll do it." Wulf interrupts darkly. "I don’t need time to consider."

"Still, I insist that you take it. Come back to me tonight with your decisions."

Astrid and Eadwulf rise from their chairs, pausing while Bren takes a moment longer to join them. 

"The stress you three have been under these past few days must have been enormous." The Archmage adds as they make their way to the door. "I’m very proud of the way you have conducted yourselves in spite of that."

"Thank you Master Ikithon." The three of them respond on impulse.

******************

Astrid barely remembers the walk back to the accommodation block. Sitting beside Bren on her bed, she’s still in a daze. She’s aware of Wulf talking, but she doesn’t really take any of it in, thoughts racing through her head. It’s not exactly that she needs to consider her options, she already knows what she’s going to do. What she can’t fathom is how she feels about it.

And then there’s Bren. She glances over at him, sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard, looking out towards the window. The sun hasn’t even reached it's midday point yet, but the day feels like it’s been going on forever.

Wulf's foot thumps against the wall by the desk, a chunk of loose plaster crumbling to the floor. "Wulf, if you’re going to start kicking things, go to your own room." She sighs, flopping down onto the mattress.

"Aren’t you angry?" He growls. "And what were you talking about, not seeing them again? You want to talk to traitors?" She bites her tongue, forcing herself not to snap back. Wulf grunts crossly, booting the wall again.

"Of course we’re angry." Bren says quietly. He takes a long breath, tipping his head back against the wall.

Wulf looks at him, fists clenched at his sides. "Good. You should be."

"I’m angry about what they want to do to the Empire," Bren continues, "and I’m angry about what they’ve done to us."

"What they’ve done to us?" Astrid asks, sitting up to look at him.

"They made us believe they were good people. Role models. My father was so proud to serve as a soldier, or so he said. They instilled that patriotism in me, but what for? Why would they do that when they hate the Empire? I keep going over and over it in my head, but I can’t work out why they’d do that to me."

"Don’t try and understand it Bren." Wulf yanks the chair out from under the desk and sits back to front on it. He jabs a finger against his temple angrily. "Their mind's are twisted, they must be. They probably planned it all along, to use you in their plans later."

"You're not helping Wulf." Astrid chastises, narrowing her eyes at him.

He glares straight back. "Why? What are you, an apologist?"

"Don’t take your anger out on me…"

"Well you don’t seem very upset by any of this Astrid." He snarls, standing again and letting the chair topple to the floor with a clatter. "I’ve seen sadness, I’ve seen concern for Bren, but where’s your anger?"

"Just because I can control it doesn’t mean it’s not there!" She seethes.

Wulf laughs mirthlessly. "Or maybe you just don’t feel it. Maybe you already knew about the cell and you kept quiet. Bren being passive I get, but you? How else can you be holding in all that rage Astrid, because I’m fucking livid!" He kicks the chair the short distance across the room, snapping one of the legs and knocking more plaster off the wall where it impacts. 

Astrid leaps to her feet, fists clenched. "So I must be a traitor because I’m not kicking things like a child? But then I wouldn’t expect you to understand the concept of self control, it’s never exactly been your strong suit."

His eyes widen momentarily before his glare is back, eyes fierce. "Don’t you fucking dare…" he spits, advancing on her.

She stares him down. "Or what? Are you going to hit me? Go on then, your father will be so proud of you!"

He reaches out to grab her arm, so she instinctively raises her hands ready to cast. Bren is suddenly between them, grabbing her hands in one of his and using the other to shove Wulf backwards against the desk.

"No!" He shouts sternly, arms extended to stop them from advancing on each other again. "We are not going to turn on each other! We’re better than this!"

Astrid swallows hard, looking down at the floor. She hears Wulf sigh, and when she glances up at him he’s perched on the edge of the desk, hands up defensively. "I wasn’t going to hit her. Contrary to what she thinks, I’m not like my father." He glares at her.

"I don’t think that. I’m sorry I said it."

Wulf bites his lip, the anger receding from him a little. "I’m sorry about what I said too. Of course I know you’re not a traitor."

"It’s understandable that we’re lashing out. And anyway, if you had tried to hit me, I would have wiped the floor with you and you know it." She smiles faintly.

He smirks weakly in response. "Oh I don’t doubt it."

Bren drops his arms. "That’s better. Are we all agreed then? We’re all going to do it tomorrow?"

Astrid is taken aback by his calm acceptance of the task ahead. "You’ve decided?"

"Of course I have. They’re traitors, and protecting the Empire is what we do." Bren shrugs. Even Wulf looks surprised, though pleased. "We should talk about the details though, before we go and talk to Master Ikithon. In case he wants to know what we plan to do to them."

"I know what I’m going to do." Wulf says darkly.

Astrid bites her lip nervously. Even knowing that she’s going to do it, everything is moving so fast. "I need more time. I’m going to the library." She hurries out without waiting for their input.

***************

When dawn begins to break across a gloomy Rexxentrum sky the next morning, Astrid isn’t sure what she feels more strongly, relief that the longest night of her life is finally over, or deep dread for what the new day will bring.

Wulf snores steadily behind her, fingers twitching on her hip where they came to rest when he finally fell asleep an hour or so ago. Crammed up against the wall side of the bed in front of her, Bren nuzzles into her hair comfortingly, neither of them having found sleep.

After returning from Master Ikithon's office the night before to confirm that they would execute the traitors, all any of them had wanted to do was fall into bed and find comfort in the darkness. They’d talked for a long time, reliving old memories mostly. Nothing from Blumenthal, only from their time at the Academy. They'd laughed and cried together, held each other tight, and eventually fallen silent in each other’s arms to lose themselves in their own thoughts.

Bren's hand finds hers in the gloom, giving it a comforting squeeze. "I love you." He whispers, kissing her nose.

"I love you too." She murmurs, tipping her head up to press their lips together.

It’s not yet fully light when they wake Wulf a short time later and dress in their uniforms. Not their school uniforms, a new set of dark clothes with a deep burgundy tabard that Master Ikithon gave to them as they left his office the night before. The same clothes they'd wondered about when they’d first found them in their wardrobes at Vergessen. A uniform they later realised was the same as that worn by Master Ikithon's private guards in the dungeons there.

The Archmage is waiting for them when they reach his office, standing solemnly with his hands clasped at his waist. His teleportation spell makes Astrid's head spin for a moment, but she’s used to that by now. The grand office dissipates around them, becoming a snow covered dirt road sloping downwards through thin woodland in a narrow rocky canyon. The West Road, leading down into Blumenthal.

"When your task is done, return to the Academy and meet me in my office." Master Ikithon looks at each of them in turn with cold determination. He produces a silver orb from his robes and hands it to Astrid. "This will grant you the ability to teleport. Hold it and focus on where you want to go to activate it. Good luck."

And with that, he teleports away again, and they are left alone on the snowy road. Astrid watches Wulf, his face set with pure burning hatred, as with barely a moment's hesitation he turns and begins to walk down the road towards his family's forge.

Notes:

The song I selected for this chapter is Can't Pretend by Tom Odell.

Chapter 40 on its way very soon!

Chapter 40: Justice

Notes:

This one gets just a little graphic at one point, so warning for that.

Chapter 41 and the epilogue are now written and awaiting editing and posting. They should be coming in the next few days. Fair to say I’m feeling pretty emotional about finally finishing this monster!

Thank you again for all of your comments and kudos, they really do mean the world ❤️

"Talk to me. How are you feeling?" Astrid asks Bren as they sit together by the bank of the stream waiting for Wulf. She glances at the forge through the trees, looking for any sign of what could be happening inside.

As soon as Master Ikithon left them on the road, Wulf had begun stalking towards his former home and hadn’t looked back. A few hundred yards following him down the track, Astrid had paused, taken Bren's hand, and gently pulled him towards the trees. This was his fight, not theirs, and it had been a long time coming. They’ve been sitting here beside the stream ever since.

Bren looks at her with a small, sad smile. "I’m ok. I know I’ve worried you a lot in the past few days, I’m sorry for that."

Astrid pulls him into a hug, kissing his cheek. "You’ve nothing to apologise for."

"You needed me. And I wasn’t there."

She shakes her head, nuzzling into his shoulder. "You’ve had a much harder time than me. I know if the tables were turned, you’d do just the same for me."

He nods, looking out at the stream distractedly. "Wulf's been a long time."

Judging by the sun's position overhead, it’s well past midmorning. "He has. Should we check on him?"

Bren turns to glance back over his shoulder at the forge, looking thoughtful. "I don’t think so. He had some pretty big plans."

"He did?"

"We talked while you were at the library. What were you doing there by the way?"

She subconsciously touches her breast pocket where a small vial of grey liquid sits. "Thinking. What did you two talk about?"

"How we felt about things mostly. He helped me to channel my anger towards the right people. I haven’t felt this focussed since before we overheard them, it's as though I’ve finally woken up. The nightmare is still there, but I know what to do with it now."

Astrid takes his hand, leaning against his shoulder. "You look as though you’re at peace with it all. It’s good to see you feeling better."

"I do feel at peace." He kisses the top of her head and puts an arm around her. "I think everything's going to be ok."

Something is off, she worries to herself. He's peaceful certainly, but not himself. There’s a coldness to him, as though he’s functioning on a surface level, but the Bren she knows isn’t quite there. It gnaws at her, on top of the underlying nerves in the pit of her stomach. Once this is done, we can all start to heal. We can get back to normal, or find our new normal at least, and everything will be ok just like he says. She wants desperately to believe that, so she tells herself to stop overthinking like she always does, and focus on the present.

With snow laying thick on the ground, the town is cut off to all but the hardiest of travellers, so the road is quiet, not one carriage or cart passing them in the time that they’ve been sat by the stream. It’s beautiful, even with the sun concealed behind thick dark grey clouds. Fresh snow has stuck to the trees where the wind gusted when it last fell, painting the west-facing side of every trunk perfect white. Every branch is covered in snow too, thin icicles hanging from them almost touching the ground in places. The middle of the stream still flows, but only just, ice encroaching from the frozen banks on either side.

The remaining water babbles over the pebbles in the shallow stream, and a blackbird sings a lonely melody above them. It’s hauntingly beautiful, and cuddled up beside Bren, Astrid can almost forget that today will likely be one of the worst of her life.

The sound of a door closing behind them makes her jump. She turns to see what the noise was, Bren taking a little longer to react, looking out through the trees expressionlessly. 

Wulf trudges slowly, exhaustedly, up the path leading from the house and across the road towards them. As he gets closer she can see how disheveled he is, uniform crooked and creased, short hair sticking up in tufts, and covered in dark, drying blood. Astrid stands and meets him at the edge of the trees.

"Is any of the blood yours?" She asks, trying to keep her voice calm while she looks up and down the road to make sure no one is there to see.

He holds up his hands. The knuckles of both are swollen and smothered in blood. "Just this I think."

"Let’s get you cleaned up in the stream. You can hardly go around town like this." She takes his arm and gently leads him over to where Bren still sits, watching them passively.

She tells him to strip off his tabard and wash as best he can in the freezing water. He doesn’t resist her, quietly doing as she asks until finally, when the water stops running pink, he’s ready to get back into his uniform. While he washes she gathers up the red splattered material and casts prestidigitation, hoping that will be enough to clean it. It takes a few tries, but eventually it’s clean enough.

"Where next?" Wulf asks the dreaded question as he slips the dark garment back over his head. 

Astrid looks at Bren who has gone back to staring intently into the frigid water. "Mine I think. It’ll be getting towards lunch time when we get there, that’ll be perfect." She pauses, pursing her lips nervously. "How did it feel, to kill them?"

Wulf smiles contentedly. "Good. I finally have closure. All those years I was terrified of my father, all the beatings he gave me, I gave them all back and more. I made sure he was as terrified as he made me feel when I was too young to defend myself."

She swallows, unnerved by his easy brutality, and yet understanding it too. "And your mother?"

"I let her go quickly." He shrugs. "She wasn’t as bad as him. And besides, I couldn’t have her screaming just in case someone came past and heard her. Master Ikithon was clear, no witnesses."

She nods remembering the brief instructions he had given them the night before. "We should get going, we don’t want to be here when they’re discovered. Hopefully that won’t be for a good few hours yet, but better we don’t leave it to chance."

Wulf nods. "We going inside when we get to yours? I could do with warming up and getting something to eat."

"We are. We’re going to share one last meal together. Bren?" She leans down to stroke a hand over his shoulder. "Are you ready? We’re heading to mine now."

With one last look at the stream, he gets to his feet and follows them through the trees eastward.

*********

One of the instructions Master Ikithon had given them was to stay off the roads as much as they could. It was imperative they not be seen, he’d said, better not to implicate themselves if they could avoid it. The trek through the woods into the valley proper, across snow covered fields and old trackways takes them a while with the difficult terrain, but they know the route well having grown up traversing these familiar slopes in all weathers.

By the time they cross the last meadow before the house, Astrid's nerves have wound so tight she knows her heart thumping loud in her ears has nothing to do with the strain of the long walk here. They use the back door so as to lessen the risk of being seen by anyone trudging up the road on the other side of the small house.

As soon as Bren closes the door behind him, Astrid hears footsteps clicking across the flagstones towards the kitchen, her mother appearing in the doorway. "Astrid? And Eadwulf. Bren." She finishes, considerably more frostily. "What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at the Academy?"

"We're back for a visit." She says, kicking off her boots. "Is father home? I was hoping we could all eat together."

Her mother gives the three of them a look of distrust, or distaste. Perhaps both. "Bren, I’m sure you’d rather go home to your own parents."

Astrid holds her breath nervously as Bren narrows his eyes slightly at the woman, his apathy broken suddenly by hints of anger and sorrow, both seeming to war for control of him. She hurriedly takes his arm and begins to lead him past her mother into the cramped dining room. "Don’t be rude mother, he’s a guest."

"Excuse me?" The woman asks in disbelief.

"We’re all going to be staying for lunch." Astrid states. It feels good to finally be taking control instead of being expected to comply, she finds, gesturing for Wulf to follow. He doesn’t even take his boots off as he saunters past the shocked woman, flashing her a wry grin.

"I don’t… I haven’t prepared enough for everyone." Frau Beck stutters, following them into the dining room.

"That was soup I saw in the pan on the stove, wasn’t it?" Astrid strides back into the kitchen, making the most of the woman's shock to take charge. "I’m sure it’ll stretch with enough bread. You sit down mother, I’ll serve. Father?" She calls, becoming nervous that he’s not there after all. He must be here, he always comes home for lunch, every day like clockwork… She almost breathes a sigh of relief when she hears footsteps making their way sedately from the living room, and the man walks in frowning.

"Astrid? This is a surprise…"

"Yes father, we’re having lunch. You go through and sit with the others, I’ll be there in just a moment." He makes a small grunt of confused contentment and steps into the dining room.

Leaning against the countertop, she takes a moment to settle her nerves. Listening out to make sure her mother doesn’t walk in and disturb her, she finds five bowls and a platter for the bread. Her hands are shaking so badly when she ladles out the soup she spills it a few times, the viscous beige liquid splashing messily onto the counter. Taking a deep breath, she presses a hand to her breast pocket again, gripping the vial through the fabric. Removing it, she shakes the grey liquid, staring into it as tiny bubbles form.

Rolling her shoulders, she reminds herself of her parent's crimes. They’re traitors. They don’t deserve mercy, she repeats over and over in her head, uncorking the little glass tube and pouring half the contents each into two of the bowls of soup. She gives them a quick stir to remove any trace of the poison from the surface, and takes the bowls through, careful to be certain not to mix them up.

"Not that it isn’t good to see you, even with this attitude you seem to have suddenly developed," her mother says once they’re all seated with their food in front of them, "but what are you doing back? I thought you said you’d be busy catching up with work when you went back to the Academy? You haven’t been thrown out have you?" She asks, raising an eyebrow and beginning to eat.

"No mother, we haven’t been thrown out." Astrid answers nonchalantly, willing her hands not to shake as she takes a mouthful of her soup. "This is delicious." She lies.

The woman glances suspiciously towards Bren, who hasn’t made a move yet to take his spoon. He probably doesn’t have much appetite, Astrid supposes. He’s barely been eating this past week. Not that any of them have seen the inside of the canteen very often with so much on their minds. Wulf, right on cue, takes a chunk of bread and tucks in eagerly. At least he’s feeling better it seems… She silently wills him to behave, at least long enough for her parents to eat a good portion of their food before the tension in the room reaches boiling point.

"I have to say, after meeting with Master Ikithon last week, I’d be disappointed if you had been excluded. Proximity to him could be extremely beneficial to you."

"And to you." Wulf says around a mouthful of bread, smiling overly pleasantly. Astrid kicks him under the table, but she suspects it hurts her toes more than his heavily muscled calf.

Her mother raises an eyebrow at him. "I suppose so, by extension." She answers dryly.

An awkward silence descends for a few minutes as they eat. Astrid tries not to watch every mouthful her parents take, but it’s hard to stop herself. She knows it won’t take much, she took her time researching the day before in the library, and the poison she selected is potent. Fortunate really that the Academy is still devoid of almost all students but them, with everyone else still being on holiday. She’d had ample opportunity to sneak into her old medicine classroom, find the ingredients she needed, and prepare them without being disturbed.

She almost flinches when her father sits back in his chair, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, before replacing the glasses and continuing to eat. That's all the sign she needs that it's taking effect. First, the poisoned individual will experience tension in the sinuses, manifesting a headache behind the eyes, she remembers the passage in the textbook word for word. Of course, texts like this are heavily restricted to students in the Academy library, but since Master Ikithon has granted clearance to them for certain areas off limits to others, that hadn’t been a problem.

"It must be awkward for you Bren, being here when the last time you visited you and Astrid were together?" Her mother asks suddenly, not bothering to conceal how false her concern is. Astrid notices that the woman winces slightly as she speaks. "It can’t be easy for you seeing her and Eadwulf together every day."

"It’s fine." He answers nonchalantly. Under the edge of the table Astrid can see his fingers tapping out complex rhythms, a sign of his discomfort despite his uninterested tone. He’s been doing that a lot this past week too.

"Is it? The two of you seemed so smitten before."

Bren looks up at her passively. "It’s alright Frau Becke, there’s no need to pretend at subtlety. I know you're hoping to catch a glimpse of my pain, and you want to try and cause me more. That’s ok. You couldn’t possibly cause me any more pain than I already feel, even if you tried your very hardest." He smiles with unnerving coldness.

Her mother is clearly taken aback, and Astrid figures there’s no time like the present. "We didn’t split up."

The woman blinks in surprise. "What?"

"We didn’t split up." Astrid repeats. Wulf leans back in his chair, grinning. "It was a lie to get you off my back. Wulf and I fabricated a relationship so that Bren and I could continue seeing each other behind your back."

Her father puts down his spoon and begins to massage his brow, leaning his elbows on the table. Her mother doesn’t seem to notice. "You insolent bitch." She spits, wincing again, pressing a hand against her head. "How dare you think to trick me like that…"

"How dare I? You gave me no option. You disregarded the man I love because you didn’t think he would increase your wealth or status enough. You valued that above my happiness." She looks her mother straight in the eye as she talks, keeping careful hold of her anger. Astrid's father groans, her mother frowning as she glances over at him. "Must you always be a nuisance, what is it?"

His face has turned bright red, sweat pouring from him. As he tries to speak, he retches, bringing up thick black bile which spreads over the table in front of him. Her mother stands, stumbling back in disgust. Second, a cold sweat and reddening of the face will be experienced shortly before the victim will begin to vomit a thick, tar-like substance…

"Woah, Astrid… remind me not to piss you off." Wulf chuckles, wincing in disgust. Bren looks down at his fingers still tapping together in his lap.

Her mother looks at Wulf horrified, then at her. "You? What have you done to him?"

"What have I done to both of you." Astrid corrects patiently. Eyes wide with fear, her mother raises a shaking hand to her head again, a sheen of sweat beginning to form. Her father falls sideways off his chair and hits the floor with a grunt, writhing as his muscles begin to spasm. Her mother makes to move towards the door, but Wulf is quicker, easily blocking it. The woman eyes the window, but begins to gag before she can even consider trying to reach it, heaving as black bile pours from her mouth. Dark strings of saliva and vomit trail from her chin as she falls to her knees.

"Why? Why?" Her father gasps from across the room, body wracked with shivers. After a quick onset, the third stage is the longest, and sees the poisoned person fall into a state of tremors as the ability to control muscle tissue begins to fail them.

"Because… of Bren…?" Her mother gasps out, falling onto her side as she trembles.

"Of course not that. We’re actually all together now anyway, the three of us." Astrid rises, sitting on the edge of the table so she can see both of them. "No this isn’t about any of that. This is about your treachery."

"Trea…" the rest of the word is lost in gurgles, her mother's mouth working soundlessly as she loses the ability to speak.

"We overheard you all plotting, and we told Master Ikithon. The Assembly knows everything." She watches for a reaction from either of them, but they’re too far gone. She knows they can still hear her though. "You thought to rise up against the place we call home. You thought to preach patriotism, to work for them right under their noses, to let your daughter go to a school right at the centre of things. To use me, probably, for your own ends. I shouldn’t be surprised by that, you always did see me as a commodity."

Bren reaches up to hold her hand supportively, eyes still averted into his lap. Wulf stands silently beside the door, arms crossed and looking down at her mother with cold satisfaction.

"You disgust me." Astrid says, biting her cheek as tears well up and begin to spill over. "I used to love you, because that’s what children do, they love their parents. But you destroyed that love. You beat me down, held me back, and kept me small. I had no confidence, except in my academic abilities, until the Academy. Until Bren and Eadwulf showed me how strong I could be, and helped me to believe in myself."

Her father gasps, breath rasping weakly in his throat. The fourth stage is the last, the victim losing the ability to inflate the lungs properly, leading to death. Her mother's mouth still works silently as though she’s trying to speak, unblinking eyes leaking tears.

"You damaged me. But finding out you were traitors, that was by far the worst of it. And that’s why I had to kill you. Because it’s the right thing to do, to protect the Empire from those who would see it harmed. I hope you feel ashamed for what you tried to do. Probably you don’t."

Her father expels one last breath before lying silently, unmoving. Seeing his eyes glaze over sends a fresh jolt of pain through her. A crisis of confidence that sends her into tremors. Hands shaking, she turns her head away, looking back at her mother. The woman stares up at her pleadingly, unable to move and gasping weakly. Astrid cries silently as she looks right back, refusing to look away.

It takes a few minutes for her mother to finally stop breathing, but when she does, the room falls into awful silence. Pulling her hand out of Bren's grasp, she breaks down into sobs, hiding her face in her palms.

Within seconds she feels Wulf and Bren's arms encircle her, holding her in comforting silence as she cries. Eventually she manages a deep breath and starts to calm herself, wiping her nose and cheeks. "I’m alright." She chokes out. "It’s just… it’s all a lot to take in."

"Of course it is." Wulf says soothingly, rubbing her back.

"I’ve been wanting to say all that to them for a long time."

Bren rests his forehead against hers, wiping fresh tears from her cheeks. "I’m glad you finally got the chance to."

She nods, sniffing. "Killing them was the right thing to do. They left us no choice." She says, hands still shaking.

"Bren," Wulf says softly, "are you ready?"

The smaller man pulls back to look at him, hesitating for only a moment before nodding. "It has to be done." He says quietly.

"What if… what if we do it? Wulf and I?" Astrid asks, wiping the last of her tears. "It’s different for us, we had long standing issues with our parents. This is so much harder for you. We could kill them instead of you having to do it? Master Ikithon would never need to know." She looks to Wulf for confirmation.

He hesitates, but nods. "I don’t see a problem with that."

"Thank you." Bren says, taking a deep breath. "But it’s ok. I want to. They deserve to suffer, and it should be me that does it."

As they leave the room, stepping carefully over the corpses of her parents and the black puddle of vomit her mother lays in, Astrid feels suddenly sick. She rushes to the back door, emptying her stomach beside the log store. Bren holds her hair out of her face and gently rubs her back until she’s finished as Wulf locks up the house, lobbing the key into the snow covered meadow beyond the small cottage garden. "Should take longer for them to be discovered this way, at least as long as we need to complete the task. You alright?"

She nods, wiping her mouth and taking a drink of water from the small canteen buckled at her waist. Wulf offers her his hip flask, but she waves it away. "Thanks, but I need to keep a clear head." He shrugs and takes a hefty gulp, offering it to Bren who refuses it as well.

"Suit yourselves." He takes another deep drink before screwing the lid back on and replacing it at his hip. "We should take the fields if we’re avoiding roads. It’ll take a while, but at least we shouldn’t be seen."

They set off north east through the deep snow, up the valley side towards the Ermendrud’s farm. Astrid tries not to think about the last time they made this journey, just over a week ago. The Day of Heart and Hearth had been one of the happiest of her life. It all feels tarnished now, knowing what Una and Leofric had been plotting behind their backs. She’d seen them as role models, had loved them more than her own parents. The thought of losing them hurts, even now that she knows they were never what she thought they were. That the loving, virtuous face they presented to the world had been a lie.

"I’m going to burn the house down with them inside." Bren says suddenly. "It feels fitting."

"You do have an affinity with fire." Wulf says thoughtfully. "But we’ll have to wait till tonight, to make sure we can trap them without making too much fuss. If they’re asleep when the fire takes hold, it’ll be harder for them to try and escape. We’ll head to the woods till it gets dark, then wait outside the farmyard till the lights have been out for a while before getting to work."

Bren nods, eyes trained ahead of him up the slope. Astrid slips her hand into his. "We’ll be there for you every step of the way."

"I know." He murmurs, giving her fingers a brief squeeze.

Notes:

The song for this chapter is Call Me When You’re Sober by Evanescence. It felt like a perfect fit for Wulf and Astrid's relationships with their parents, and their feelings at the end of the chapter.

Next up… well you know what’s coming…

Chapter 41: Burn

Notes:

The final chapter, with an epilogue to follow. Enjoy!

On the way up the valley, almost halfway to the Ermendrud's farm, they begin to hear the shrill ringing of bells pealing out from the town below, a sound reserved for only two occasions, celebration days, and a call to arms for Blumenthal's crowns guard.

They pause on the hillside, looking west towards the forge. In the far distance, Astrid can just make out the flickering lights of torches and the ant-like movements of a group of people hastily making their way up the snaking road beside the stream.

"They found them I guess." Wulf remarks emotionlessly. "I feel sorry for the Crowns Guard. I left a bit of a mess."

"Let’s keep going." Astrid says starting off again up the hill, as much to change the subject as to cover ground away from the town and the murder investigation unfolding behind them.

They reach the woods as night begins to fall, setting up to wait out the next few hours under an enormous sprawling oak a little way into the trees. The branches are smothered with clinging snow and icicles, but there’s a dry clear hollow on one side of the trunk where the wind has made a deep drift the other side. The temperature is dropping rapidly, but they daren't light a fire for fear of being seen.

"You ok?" She asks Bren after they’ve huddled up together in their cloaks as best they can.

"No." He answers simply.

She purses her lips, feeling stupid for asking. "That’s fair. It was a stupid question."

"I just want to get it over with." He shakes his head, and Astrid notices he’s trembling. "Then we can all start to move on."

"Here." Before he can refuse, she hurriedly takes off the long blue scarf she’s been wearing and wraps it gently around his neck. "You look cold."

His cheeks flush, a sign that he knows her real motive. He hates to look scared in front of others, even she and Wulf, and she’s been with him long enough to know that these tremors are borne of fear, not cold. "Thanks."

"It looks better on you anyway. It matches your eyes." She smiles.

They wait until full dark sets in, and then move closer to the farm house, crouched on the edge of the woodland so that they can see the lights inside. It takes another hour for those lights to be extinguished, but finally the Ermendrud’s head to bed, and the house is left in darkness.

"They always go to bed early." Bren whispers impassively, as though he's casually discussing the weather. "They have to be up early in the morning for the farm."

It’s unnervingly silent as they wait to give the couple enough time to fall asleep. The snow deadens sound, and aside from the mournful screeches of a few hunting owls nearby, there’s no noise but their nervous breathing.

"I think it’s time Bren." Wulf murmurs eventually.

"Yes." Bren agrees quietly. He begins to move off slowly in the direction of the farmyard, Astrid and Eadwulf following behind.

Carefully and quietly, they climb over the yard wall and make straight for the barn. With practiced hands, Bren manages to unfasten the bolt of the large swing door without making much noise, and ducks inside when Wulf hauls the door open. Together, they manoeuvre the hay wagon out and around to the front of the house, leaving it right up against the farmhouse door.

Wulf hefts a few large planks of wood and a water butt into position to block the back door, and their preparation is done. The three of them stand outside looking up at the house they've all come to see as a home of sorts.

There’s a sudden muffled thud that almost makes Astrid squeak out loud in shock, but the moon peeking through the clouds lends just enough light to see the source of the noise. She watches as Frumpkin trots across the porch roof tiles, makes an expert leap up to the attic window ledge and nudges it open to slip inside. The flimsy window frame clatters closed behind him, unnervingly loud. She silently hopes it wasn't enough to wake the sleeping Ermendrud's.

"Ready Bren?" She asks tentatively.

He takes a moment to answer, before taking a deep, shuddering breath, and nodding. "I have to be. This is the right thing to do. It’s the right thing to do."

His hands tremble so violently as he lifts them, Astrid isn’t sure he’ll be able to cast. But all their intense training with Master Ikithon seems to have paid off as his fingers manage their sequence of somatic movements, and he whispers under his breath.

Flame erupts from his fingers, blasting into the full hay wagon and scorching the cladding around the door. The hay catches immediately, the fire quickly raging out of control and engulfing the porch of the little wooden farm house.

Spreading faster than she could have anticipated, it runs rampant through the ground floor, shattered glass panes in the windows allowing the flames to penetrate into the building. Flickering orange light illuminates the farmyard almost as bright as daytime, thick smoke and sparks like fireflies billowing upwards into the pitch black night sky. The only sound is the crackling pop of burning wood. Astrid winces against the intense heat of it, Wulf holding up a hand to shield his eyes.

"We need to move further back Bren! Bren?" She calls to him, voice raised above the constant hiss of the flames.

Bren ignores her, staring at the house coldly, eyes set with determination. There’s doubt there too, Astrid can see it plainly, remorse, regret, sorrow, a whirlwind of emotions running through him. She takes his hand and holds it tight. He squeezes back.

And then they hear a scream from inside.

Astrid swallows hard and looks up at Bren. She can only imagine how it must feel to hear the mother he has loved so dearly screaming as she dies. But as her eyes focus on his, she can tell immediately that something is wrong. His eyes are wide with horror, mouth opening to let out a wail of anguish that cuts through her like a knife.

"Bren… it’s alright, I’ve got you. It’s alright…" she says, tears brimming as she puts her arms around him, pulling him close to hold him through his grief.

Flames erupt between them, a blast of searing heat and energy throwing her backwards. She lands heavily, the air knocked from her. Her stomach lurches as the smell of burning hair and skin fills her nostrils. Dazed and whimpering in pain, her hands go to her throat to find the skin there blistered and bleeding, a burn covering one side of her neck and collarbone.

Rolling over, she pushes up onto her knees. Everything is fuzzy, her vision momentarily dulled and ears ringing. She shakes her head, blinking to try and clear her eyes.

Seeming to move in slow motion a dozen or so feet away, she can make out Bren and Wulf on the ground, the larger man wrestling to grab Bren's hands. There’s a sudden flash of fire that barely misses Wulf as Bren manages to send off another ball of flame, and another. This time it hits a tree a little way away beside the track, sending it rapidly up in flames.

"Astrid!" Wulf screams, another odd unidentifiable noise in the background that she can’t quite make out. It’s as though she’s under water, the sound muffled and thick.

She crawls towards them, shying away from the heat of the inferno at the house, breathing deep through the pain and disorientation.

Just as she reaches them, sound comes rushing back to her, and she almost wishes it hadn’t. She realises the noise she couldn’t identify earlier was Bren, snarling and snapping like an animal as he fights back against Wulf. His beautiful eyes are wild, legs flailing to try and kick his friend, fingers working desperately to fire off more spells.

"Help me hold him!" Wulf screams, unable to subdue him alone.

Agony shoots through Astrid as she throws herself onto Bren's chest, gripping his wrists as tight as she can to hold them apart as Wulf moves to rest his weight onto the other man's legs, trying to restrain him. "Bren please…" she looks down into eyes that regard her with pure hatred. He bares his teeth at her, growling. "Please." She cries, feeling her strength failing against him.

His hands come close enough together to begin the somatic movements for Burning Hands, amber energy building in his palms aimed straight towards her. She grunts with effort and tries to drag his hands apart, but he’s so much stronger than usual in this state. The energy bursts into sparks, flames beginning to form, and she closes her eyes, bracing herself. There’s a grunt and a smacking sound. She falls onto his chest as Bren goes limp.

She opens her eyes to find Wulf laying beside him breathing hard, Bren unmoving with his eyes closed, a red welt already beginning to swell at his temple.

"I had to hit him, I had to…" Wulf gasps, trying to catch his breath.

She sits up, clasping a hand to the side of her neck with a grimace. "I know. It’s ok, you had no choice."

"He could have killed you." The disbelief in Wulf's voice echos her own. It’s a stark sign of how out of control Bren was.

"I’m fine." She lies, the pain almost unbearable. "What are we going to do?"

Wulf looks around them, trembling with shock. "I don’t know. We need to get him to Master Ikithon."

She shakes her head, gasping in pain at the movement. "We can’t go to the Academy like this. If someone sees us..."

"Where then?" Wulf asks desperately. "We can’t wait long, he could wake up at any moment. What if we can’t subdue him next time?"

She knows he’s right, but it hurts worse than the blistering pain of the burn. Ever since they formed their bond as friends to protect themselves from Ferdinard and the rest of the bullies, through the hard times life and the Academy has served them over the past few years, and the trials Master Ikithon has put them through, every single time they looked after each other. They’ve never needed anyone else, sought comfort with each other to the point that their friendship became more. It’s hard to admit that this time, the challenge is beyond them. Bren needs more than they can give. It feels like they’re betraying him.

"The Sanatorium." She says quietly. "I think that’s where we need to go. They can help him there, it’s what they do, look after people going through this sort of thing."

The fire still roars behind them, the heat of it almost unbearable. There’s a loud creaking groan, and she and Wulf look up to find the front wall collapsing into the burning building. Wulf grabs her and pulls her into him, using his body to shield her and Bren as a wave of ash and debris rains down on them.

The air turns thick with dust. Wheezing, she pulls the silver orb Master Ikithon handed to her from her belt pouch. Holding it tight, she forms an image of the courtyard at Vergessen in her mind, hoping she’s using it right.

Sudden dizziness makes her head spin as everything seems to move, before a shock of cold hits her burning hot skin. She panics momentarily, hoping that the spell transported Bren and Wulf as well. Blinking the dust from her eyes, she’s relieved to find them both there, Wulf on all fours with his head down as he coughs and retches, Bren still unconscious on the cobbled path beneath them.

It’s dark now, and deathly silent. Looking around, she finds the courtyard at Vergessen and the looming building beyond, just as she’d hoped.

"Don’t move!" A man's voice shouts harshly. A group of guards armed with pikes and swords approaches cautiously. "Stay where you are! Hands up!"

She complies slowly, crying out at the pain in her throat as she raises her hands above her head. Wulf gasps for breath beside her, taking a moment longer to sit back on his haunches and do the same. One of the guards approaches warily, peering at them through the darkness as more guards arrive holding torches.

"Scourgers." Says the same man's voice as before with a note of relief. "It’s alright, stand down." Astrid blinks in confusion, wondering if she heard right. She’s dazed still from the impact of being thrown backwards by Bren, beginning to shiver as shock starts to set in.

"We… we need help." She stutters, teeth chattering. "Someone needs to summon Master Ikithon. We need him."

"In a bit of a mess aren’t you." The lead guard moves closer, looking down at them with disdain. He gestures to Bren with his sword. "What’s up with him? Dead?"

"No, but you might be in a minute if you don’t go and get Master Ikithon like she said." Wulf glares up at the man. The guard looks amused, but there’s an edge of fear to his smile.

An elven woman wearing the same uniform as them makes her way through the crowd of guards. Astrid remembers seeing her regularly at Vergessen, but she’s never heard her name. Or the names of any of Master Ikithon's personal guards now she thinks about it. "You’re not supposed to be here. What happened?" She asks, voice and expression cold.

"That’s between us and Master Ikithon." Wulf cuts in.

"He needs help. He turned on us, tried to hurt us. We thought this was the best place to bring him. Please, can you help him?" Astrid begs, looking up at the woman pleadingly. "Please, he's so gentle normally, he’d never do something like this if he wasn’t sick…"

The woman holds up a hand to shush her and turns, making the somatic gestures to cast Sending as she walks away a short distance. Astrid stares after her. She knows the spell a little, it’s one she hopes to learn as they progress over the next term.

Wulf watches the guards around them like a lion guarding its cubs, but Astrid is distracted by Bren. She leans down to kiss his cheek, wiping away a smudge of soot and sweeping his mussed fringe off of his forehead. "It’s ok." She whispers to him. "We’re going to get you the help you need, and everything will be alright. We love you book worm. Even though you accidentally tried to kill us." She chuckles through her tears, neatening the scarf she gave to him, grubby now but still keeping him warm. "We know you didn’t mean it. And when you’re well again, we’ll laugh about it. Don’t you dare feel guilty, you hear me. It wasn’t you. You couldn’t help it. We know you love us just as much as we love you."

"What are you doing?" She hears Wulf growl a moment before she’s knocked aside as a group of guards surround Bren, grabbing handfuls of his cloak and lifting him roughly. His head lolls to the side as they begin to carry him towards the main building.

"Where are you taking him?" Astrid winces as she gets to her feet to follow, swaying as a wave of dizziness hits her again. "Please be gentle with him, he needs help!"

Wulf stumbles to his feet and begins to stalk after them, before the elven woman stands in front of him, blocking his path. "Calm down. They’re taking him to the Sanatorium. I’ve spoken to Master Ikithon and he’s on his way."

Astrid looks past her to the guards disappearing into the darkness with Bren. "Will he be ok?" She asks, gasping out a sob.

The woman sighs impatiently. "That’s for the doctors in there to decide. They’ll do what they can for him I’m sure. You’re injured." She points towards Astrid's neck. "Someone will look at that for you soon. Wait here for Master Ikithon." She turns and strides away after the guards, leaving them alone in the smothering dark and silence.

"It’s alright, I’ve got you." Wulf says as he holds her close when her legs give out. He shushes and whispers comfortingly to her, rocks her gently as they sit together on the cold cobble stones, but even as she sobs she can tell he’s crying too.

Notes:

I really hope I did this justice, it’s a scene that I’ve been wanting to write for a long time, ever since Caleb's story captivated so many of us when it was first revealed.

The song for this one is of course, from Liam's own Caleb playlist, the Crabtree remix of Heart of Glass by Blondie and Philip Glass.

Chapter 42: Epilogue

Notes:

(Just one warning this chapter for mention of suicidal thoughts.)

So it’s finally done! It took almost two years, but here it is complete. And I managed to get it finished before the official origin story comes out and smashes it all to bits so that’s something!

Thank you so much to everyone who has given kudos or posted comments. You really have helped me get to this point and you’ve said such lovely things, So many times you’ve made my day with your kind words and encouragement.

If you enjoyed this, the next fic in this trilogy is The Chosen Few, which picks up sixteen years later during the canon timeline of Campaign Two and follows Astrid and Eadwulf as the Mighty Nein become entangled in their world.

Thank you again to everyone who's read this far! xx

It’s going to snow again Astrid thinks to herself, sitting alone on the tower top overlooking Rexxentrum. Looking out over the snow blanketed rooftops of the Shimmer Ward, she notes the tiny forms of people scurrying through almost deserted streets as afternoon turns to evening. The school is empty of students at this time of year. They’ll be home for the holidays with their families for another week yet.

The deafening silence of the Academy grounds below is a stark reminder of what she lost exactly a year ago today.

Taking in the sunset, she lets out a deep breath. It’s beautiful tonight, the last rays bathing the highest tower tops in a warm golden glow as the sun dips below the city wall.

She comes here often to watch the sunset. They used to do this a lot, huddling together whatever the time of year to take a moment to themselves. She feels close to him here, in what she’s come to think of as their place. She can still close her eyes and pretend he’s here with her, remember his smile, his laugh, the love in his eyes as he used to wrap his cloak around her shoulders when it started to get cold.

It hurts to admit, but she feels closer to him here than she does in his company these days.

She and Wulf visit him in Vergesson whenever they can but seeing him so frail, so devoid of awareness and interest, is terrible for both of them. She's begun to dread those visits now, and somehow that’s even worse.

A few times he’s spoken to them, brief and basic conversations, but she can’t describe the joy she feels from hearing even just a hello from him. Sometimes he turns his back on them and covers his ears. Once he even leapt back from them, whimpering in terror. Most times though, he sits in a corner staring, with no sign that he even knows they’re there.

If losing Bren was all that had happened this past year, Astrid thinks that maybe she wouldn’t feel so utterly broken by it. But that isn’t all that’s happened.

She smiles mirthlessly, thinking back to a time when they’d believed what Master Ikithon put them through before their parent's execution was hard. How naive they'd been. No room for naivety now, not finally knowing the full extent of what he’d been preparing them for. For the real training to begin.

Volstrucker. Monsters of childhood nightmares and thought of as myth. She and Wulf are still learning, but are working their way steadily up the ranks. What they’ve seen and done this past year would have shaken her to the core before. Their time at the Academy feels like a lifetime ago.

"Thought I’d find you up here."

She doesn’t turn as Wulf emerges through the hatch onto the tower top. She already knew he was there, her senses developed enough through intensive training that little makes her jump these days. Intensive training is what they call it anyway, others would probably label it torture. But it’s all part of the role. Volstrucker are elite assassins and spies after all, if they aren’t trained properly they die, simple as that.

Though there have been times this past year when she’s considered that dying wouldn’t be such a bad thing, not that she’d admit that to anyone, not even Wulf.

"I’m that predictable am I?” She says dryly. “Going to have to work on that or I’ll make a shit assassin."

He chuckles as he sits on the snowy stone beside her. "I think it’s ok if you’re predictable to me. We sort of know each other pretty well." He smiles. She tries to smile back, but she can’t quite muster the strength to pretend she’s ok today. Not that she needs to with him. He knows her pain better than anyone.

"I suppose we do."

He snorts as he rests his arm over her shoulders to pull her close against his side. "Good, because as you know, I like being right." She does chuckle that time, giving him what he’d obviously wanted. He lets the silence stretch for a minute before saying, "You know Bren would hate being the source of your pain Astrid."

"You’ve told me enough times."

"Well maybe if you’d listen I’d find something new to say."

She sighs. "Wulf, not now…"

"Why not?" He raises an eyebrow at her. "You’re on a freezing rooftop in fucking midwinter, watching a sunset you could have seen from the window.”

She rolls her eyes and shrugs his arm off her shoulders.

“I do get it.” He says quietly.

”Sounds like it…”

”But,” he continues with an edge of determination, “I’m also your wingman, and it’s my job to look after you and to tell you when you’re moping too much for your own good."

"My wingman?" She asks, vaguely amused.

He shrugs. "Friend sounds lame. Confidant, colleague, lover, therapist, father figure… ok maybe not that. Touchy subject today of all days, since we you know, murdered them a year ago…”

"For fuck's sake Wulf…" she huffs a broken laugh, putting her head in her hands.

He puts his arm back around her, grinning. "Made you smile though didn’t it."

"That wasn’t a smile, it was a grimace at your horrific sense of humour." She sighs, looking back to the sunset. "What am I supposed to do? Forget Bren ever existed?"

"What? No…" he tuts exasperatedly. "Obviously not. No I mean, have some hope. I can see it diminishing in you Astrid, every day it gets a little weaker. You’re starting to believe he’s gone for good aren’t you?"

She doesn’t answer, but her silence tells him all he needs to know.

"You know what Master Ikithon says, these things can take time. We can’t give up on him Astrid."

She looks at him sadly before resting her head on his shoulder. "I’ll never give up on him completely. But I can’t pretend he’s coming back to us either Wulf. Even if he recovers, what then? He can’t come back to training, he broke. I know I’m being a hypocrite, since I’m up here in the cold lamenting the past, but at some point we have to accept that things will never be the same again. We have to try and look forward."

He's quiet for a time after that, the two of them looking out at the horizon as the last of the sunset paints the sky pink and gold. Catha rises as the light fades, making the snow covered rooftops glisten.

"Tomorrow we can look forward." He mumbles into her hair after a while. "I'll keep believing he’s going to get better one day, but for now, memories are all we have of him Astrid. It’s ok to look back on them."

She swallows hard, unable to hold her tears back any longer as they begin to roll over her cheeks. "Remember when we flour bombed Starek?" She asks. "I was so scared, I was sure he was going to catch us when we ran."

Wulf laughs, pressing a kiss to her temple. With a quick flick of his wrist, he manifests a bottle of whiskey out of thin air and offers it to her, a new cantrip he learned recently. "Of course. That was way back at the start, when I first began to corrupt you both. What about that first time I encouraged you two to sneak out to an inn after dark? You were such an emotional drunk back then."

She takes a long drink before groaning, passing the bottle back to him. "Don’t remind me. And the hangover the next day…" she pauses for a moment, sorrow and nostalgia making her stomach clench. "That was the night Bren and I had our first kiss."

He rubs her arm comfortingly and pulls her closer again. "What about that night you both stayed up with me while I finished my essay. Just for moral support."

Astrid smiles. "He stayed up with you. I fell asleep."

"Ja, but it’s the thought that counts."

"True. And who could forget all those nights we spent at the dance hall. I think my toes are still bruised from you standing on them." She chuckles.

He chokes mid drink, coughing with an outraged expression. "Hey!" He croaks, flourishing his wrist to make the bottle disappear again. "I’m not that bad at dancing."

"You are."

He huffs, shrugging in acceptance. "There has to be one thing I’m not excellent at, otherwise it’s not fair on everyone else."

The stars are visible now in the rapidly darkening sky, and it’s so cold Astrid can feel her teeth starting to chatter. It felt good reminiscing over happier times for a little while, but she can’t escape the reality of their situation for long. Tonight, they’ll go back to the house Master Ikithon has allocated for them, she’ll fail to find sleep till the early hours, and then the nightmares will haunt her. And tomorrow, they’ll resume their training. An unrelenting cycle of pain and sorrow. She’s proud of what she and Wulf have achieved, proud of what they do. She tries to focus on all the lives they’ve saved rather than those they’ve taken. But Wulf's right, her hope is diminishing and it’s making her jaded.

"I know I’m not him," Wulf says quietly, as snowflakes begin to fall around them. "but I do love you."

She leans up to kiss his cheek, snuggling into his chest as she stares out at the lamp lit city. “I love you too Wulf.”

Part of her knows she’ll never love anyone the way she loves Bren. There was a spark there between them she can’t imagine feeling with anyone else. But she can’t think of a life without Wulf either, and what they’ve been through together this past year has formed a bond between them just as close as the one she shared with Bren, if not closer. They’ve got each other’s backs, and nothing will change that.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of For The Empire