Chapter Text
Chapter One
“This isn’t what it looks like, Zia,” Edgin says as soon as Zia opens the door, his hands raised defensively.
Zia studies her husband, lowering one hand to rest against her seven month pregnant belly. “Really? Because it looks like my husband just came home and brought a very handsome man with him to help with the last bits of renovations we need to do before our baby is born.”
Edgin blinks, because clearly that hadn’t been the response that he was expecting. Silly man. She loves him dearly, but sometimes she wishes she could drag the… well, the bard out of him. The penchant for drama and overreaction. But if she could, then he wouldn’t be the Edgin that she fell in love with and married, and wishing for someone to be other than what they’ve always shown you they are is a fool’s errand anyway.
The very handsome stranger that Edgin has brought home bows, one hand pressed to his chest above his heart. He’s wearing armor, and has a very impressive looking sword at his side; another Harper? Definitely someone who works with them, and whose primary position is that of a fighter; a strong fighter, too. His voice is soft and faintly melodic as he introduces himself, though; not a man who feels the need to impress everyone with his prowess before they even know him. “My name is Xenk Yendar, madam, and I apologize for imposing upon your home.”
Home, not house or cottage or anything disparaging. Zia thinks she’s going to like this man. “You haven’t, yet. But since I want to sit down and I suspect that this is going to be a long story, I’d like to request that you do impose, immediately.” Zia retreats back into the little place that she and Edgin have crafted for themselves, trailing her fingers down Edgin’s arm and snaring his hand to drag him inside with her as she moves.
Edgin goes willingly, still looking a little stunned. “You really think Xenk is handsome?”
“I have eyes, Ed,” Zia says with a laugh. “And I know that you do, too.”
Xenk clears his throat. “My attractiveness or lack thereof is not what we have come to discuss with you.”
No. It wouldn’t be. Not with Edgin being so worried. But Ed is here—back from his secret mission, and in more or less one piece. Zia twines her fingers between his and holds on tight. “It’s all right,” she says softly. “Whatever you fine men have to tell me can be told over some bread and cheese, and I think we’ll all be happier for it in the end.”
Assuming the child allows Zia to keep down the meal, but at least the nausea has been better the last two months than it had been in the five before.
Zia starts to set the table and gather the food, but Edgin pushes her firmly down into a chair and hastens to do it instead. Another smile tugs at Zia’s lips as she realizes how very well he knows their cottage; how well he knows her. He doesn’t hesitate at all, leaving Zia free to caress her stomach and silently think, Listen to your father’s voice; isn’t it one of the most beautiful things in the world?
Xenk Yendar, meanwhile, seems a quiet man. Though he followed them into their home, he stands stiff and nervous slightly away from the table.
“Please,” Zia says with a smile, gesturing to one of their two empty seats. “Relax, and be welcome in our home.”
Xenk inclines his head, and settles himself gingerly in the chair, perching on the edge as though afraid it might collapse.
Or as though afraid he isn’t welcome.
Zia studies him again, this time allowing her eyes to linger on the mark on his forehead. A magical brand; she’d be willing to bet money on that, and she doesn’t have money to waste on foolishness. Is that why he’s so nervous? Will it be better or worse if she asks him about it?
“Xenk and I were teamed up for this last mission,” Edgin finally says, starting to talk as he sets the table and brings out the food. “And, well… things got a little bit… messy.”
“Was one of you hurt?” Zia asks, looking between the two of them. They don’t look injured, and neither has been limping, but some injuries can be hard to recognize.
“No,” Xenk says. “But it seems that I have married your husband.”
Zia stares at him, waiting for Xenk to crack a smile; for some sign that he’s joking.
Edgin buries his head in his hands. “I asked you to let me do the talking.”
“But you were hesitating to state the most important piece of information.” Xenk frowns. “You apologized for the affront six minutes ago, and your wife was still wondering exactly what you had apologized for. It was necessary to move the conversation forward by… what was that phrase… putting all of our cards on the table.”
Zia strokes a hand across her pregnancy, counting to ten as she does. “All right, I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this, and an easy way out of whatever predicament you’ve found yourselves in. Ed, why don’t you start at the beginning and help me understand?”
Edgin nods. Scooting to the edge of his seat, giving himself some space to gesture between the table and his body, Edgin raises both hands. “So. Like I said, the Harpers teamed up Xenk and I…”
***
Edgin wasn’t used to working with someone as… noticeable as Xenk.
At least, Edgin’s pretty sure Xenk is noticeable. Certainly Edgin’s eyes keep getting drawn back to Xenk. You are a married man, he reminds himself firmly. A very happily married man who is going to be a father.
The words are a swirl of warmth through his chest, and Edgin finds himself grinning despite the risk they’ll be taking with this mission. “So,” he drawls out, acutely aware that his hip is pressed against Xenk’s as they study the library and the wizard beneath them. Xenk had assured Edgin that approaching from the top of the castle (courtesy of some aarakocra who apparently owed Xenk a favor) would be less likely to draw attention, and he had been right. They’ve spent the last two hours slowly working their way down through the castle, leaving them perched in the stone battlements above their target. “All we have to do is get that artifact back, right?”
“Kalendin’s Pipe of Binding, yes,” Xenk repeats softly, his eyes fixed on the object of their quest. “With it, Ramidi intends to ensnare her soul with that of the paladin Liku, thus robbing the woman of her ability to refuse Ramidi’s amorous advances.”
“Talk about refusing to take no for an answer,” Edgin mutters to himself. “So, what’s our plan? We can’t hide in the ceiling all day.”
“I am quite aware of that. You are the one who suggested we stay here for a few minutes as a means of surveillance,” Xenk replies with infuriatingly gentle patience.
“Yes, I was just…” Edgin waves a hand. Trying to catch my breath sounds too pathetic when Xenk is the one wearing armor. “Never mind. What matters is getting the artifact, and hopefully freeing Liku in the process.”
“That was not a part of our stated goal,” Xenk returns with a frown.
“Adding it to the goal,” Edgin replies with a cheerful grin. “Any objections?”
There’s a moment’s quiet contemplation, Xenk eyes fixed on the pipe. “None to aiding those in need,” Xenk finally replies, all grim fury and fierce eyes.
Hashing out the plan doesn’t take very long.
Implementing it takes even less time.
The plan going wrong? That of course takes the absolute least amount of time.
“Come on, now, can’t we talk about this?” Edgin calls out, hiding behind a thick library desk that is currently in the process of being devoured by fireballs. “The pipe doesn’t belong to you. Any parent will tell you that stealing is bad, and taking what doesn’t belong to you is stealing.”
The wizard Ramidi doesn’t seem impressed with this argument, which is decidedly unfair. Edgin prepares to make a break for better cover when Xenk bursts on the scene.
It’s incredible watching the way Xenk moves, the paladin managing to dodge between Ramidi’s spells with a grace and speed that Edgin wishes he could one day emulate.
It’s heart-stopping, watching Xenk clash with Ramidi.
Almost literally.
The wizard smiles as Xenk brings his blade down on her, darting one hand out to touch his. “Oh, little font of darkness, you’ll do just as nicely.”
Xenk’s sword falls from hands that spasm and shake as though in the grip of a palsy.
The mark on his head burns red, and Edgin knows something is very, very wrong, though Xenk doesn’t make a sound.
“You fools,” Ramidi hisses. “Did you really think I wanted Liku as a bed partner? I want power. Liku belongs to the Wild One, and if I bind myself to Liku, I can follow that power. I am not after a sexual conquest. I seek to have all of nature at my call, and I will not let you get in the way of that plan.” Ramidi’s eyes burn red as the mark on Xenk’s forehead as she stares down at the writhing paladin, her fingers still clasped with his. “I would be amenable to changing it, though. You, little lost Thayan, you are bound to Death. You are bound to destruction; to the inversion of the natural order of the world. How much more can I do with what you carry, I wonder?”
Black lines started to crawl across Ramidi’s face—the tell tale markings of a Red Wizard.
Edgin considers just yelling at the woman. Trying to tell her that. Warning her that he’s pretty sure what she’s taking from Xenk won’t empower her; it will only make her another toy for Szass Tam, who isn’t known for playing gently with what he collects.
He somehow doubts Ramidi will listen to him.
Then she lifts her hand, summoning the pipe to her—intending to finish the spell that she never should have been allowed to start in the first place.
Edgin’s reflexes work faster than his brain. He can catch the flute, so he does, launching himself into the path of the little wooden instrument and clutching it tight in both hands.
He’s dragged two steps towards Ramidi before he’s able to stop his forward progress, holding to the instrument with all his strength as it begins to heat in his hands.
“Let it go,” Ramidi hisses. “Stop interfering with my work!”
“Stop doing awful work, and people will stop interfering!” Edgin doesn’t release his hold on the instrument.
Instead, his fingers find the proper holes.
He raises it to his lips.
He doesn’t mean to start playing.
He doesn’t even know the melody that he’s playing.
All he knows is that it feels right. That it makes the instrument cool in his grip, and causes Ramidi to release Xenk, pulling back as though his flesh suddenly burns her.
“No!” the wizard shrieks, power gathering around her, whipping her clothes as though a hurricane were gathering in the library. “No, I will not be robbed in my own home. I will not—”
Which is when Xenk pulls a dagger from his boot and stabs the wizard in the heart.
It’s a clean, fierce strike. The blade buries itself to the hilt, and if Edgin’s not mistaken just a little bit further, indenting the flesh, pulling fabric deep into the wound.
Not that Ramidi will have to worry about that, because it was a perfect strike, and blood immediately begins to bubble from her mouth.
She staggers away from Xenk, spitting curses that don’t have power. She tries to pull on Xenk’s magic again, and Edgin dances a step forward, the notes that he’s playing skirling upward. No, Xenk is not hers.
Xenk is Edgin’s partner.
He’s Edgin’s to protect, just as he has very happily been trying to protect Edgin as they worked.
He’s—
Covered in Ramidi’s blood, as she finally manages to pull the dagger free, arterial spray arcing out before her body collapses.
Did she hope that she could down a healing potion before she died? Did she just not want to die with her enemy’s weapon in her body? Did she hope to become some kind of terrible lich, to use the power she had stolen from Xenk?
Whatever she hoped, she isn’t able to manage anything other than dying.
And as she died, the Pipe played.
It’s not Edgin playing anymore, if it ever was.
It’s a song that needs to be heard; that begs to be given life; and Edgin couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.
And he doesn’t want to.
He wants to see where this leads. To aid the power as it grows and grows, wrapping around him and Xenk.
Protecting them.
Making them partners, in all senses of the word.
Binding them together so that nothing else may sunder them.
(And if there are notes missing; unplayed pieces; well, the Pipe knows that there will be time to slow them into place later.)
***
Zia stares at her husband, clearly not understanding. “The Pipe… played you?”
Edgin nods. “I can’t explain it any other way. It was like the Pipe understood what it wanted to do, and it… did it. I don’t know if it had been primed by Ramidi, or if that’s just what it does—usually it’s locked away in some wizard or other’s tower. The Harpers are looking into it, but in the meantime, Xenk and I are a little…”
“Bound,” Xenk says. “In the classic fashion of Onamira, where the Pipe was first crafted, and which it apparently still carries deep in its heart.”
Edgin opens his mouth, probably to argue, because Edgin seems to love nothing more than arguing. Then he settles down with a sigh.
Xenk almost smiles at him. It’s so very Edgin, hating the idea of objects having desires and wishes, and also being utterly unable to disown the wishes of an instrument that he held in his hands.
An instrument that responded to horror and the desire to protect in the only way it knew how.
“What exactly does being bound in the fashion of Onamira entail?” Zia asks cautiously, clearly not expecting to like the answer.
Which is fair. Xenk doesn’t like it much, either.
Don’t do it, Edgin thinks towards him, and though Xenk doesn’t hear anything like words through their bond, he has felt this combination of emotions from Edgin too many times before not to understand. Frustration. Wariness. Weariness.
“It will be easier for me to demonstrate,” Xenk says, standing from the table.
Edgin sighs, but it’s not the exasperation on his face that Xenk feels through their bond; it’s fear, a surprising amount of fear.
Xenk pauses. “Does it hurt you, too, if you are not seeking to escape?”
“No, but I don’t like you being hurt, either. Especially because it’s something I can just explain to my wife in words! Words are our friends, Xenk.” Edgin doesn’t entirely believe what he’s saying, but his desperation causes Xenk to pause.
Edgin turns to Zia. “We’re soulbonded, in some deep, really complicated way that the Harpers don’t know how to undo, and that the Pipe doesn’t seem able or willing to undo, either. Believe me, I tried; I played that thing so many times, but…” Edgin sighs, clearly relaxing as he realizes that Xenk isn’t going to try to rush from the cottage to demonstrate their predicament. “Because of this bond, we can’t be too far from each other. Like… more than forty paces or so from each other. If one of us tries to leave the vicinity of the other intentionally, we get these sharp pains and these really nasty side effects like bleeding all over the place.” Edgin glares at Xenk. “Which is why we are not demonstrating.”
“Oh.” Zia sits, her head tilted back, one hand on her stomach—on the swell of the child that she’s carrying.
Something stirs uneasily in Xenk at the sight. He’s around children during his travels, but never for very long, and it seems further proof that he has entangled himself in something that he should not have. Something precious, that he has no right to touch.
Standing, Xenk bows low to Zia. “I am deeply sorry. If not for my mistakes, your husband would not be in this predicament. I will strive to do everything I can to find a way to undo the bond, and in the meantime I will be as unobtrusive as possible. I can set up a small camp in the back yard, if that is to your liking; I can fend for myself; I can—”
“Oh my gods, Xenk, can you just calm yourself for a little bit?” Edgin gives him an exasperated look, but the thrum through their bond is still more concern than anger. “Zia’s not going to make you camp in the back yard. Right?”
Zia laughs, an unexpected but deeply pleasant sound. “I think it would be far more deeply weird to make you camp out in the back yard than it would be to just have you as a guest for as long as this bond lasts.”
Xenk winces. “And if the bond lasts for longer than we wish it to?”
“We’re going to find a way out of this.” Edgin grins, stepping forward to clap Xenk on the back. “Have faith in us, all right?”
“I have faith in you,” Xenk says, watching the way Edgin’s spine seems to straighten at the praise; the way Edgin’s eyes seem to glow.
Edgin is a man who is still figuring out his own worth; who is still uncertain of who he is and what his place in the world is.
If Xenk has disrupted things for Edgin and his little family—
If he puts them in danger—
Edgin clasps Xenk’s forearm. “Come on, buddy. Breathe. Relax. It’s going to be all right.”
Xenk follows Edgin’s advice. He usually tries to follow good advice.
“Now come on.” Edgin releases him as quickly as he’d grabbed him, turning back to pull Zia into a tight embrace. “I’ve got a lot to talk to you about, and it sounds like you have a lot that you want us to do, so let’s get started!”
Zia laughs again, fondness written all over his face, in the set of her shoulders, in the easy way she dances without music to the tune and pace set by Edgin. She allows her husband to sweep her up and around and into his arms, a little improvised dance.
Xenk smiles as he watches them, and decides that he will do his absolute best to make sure no harm comes to this little family, now or in the far future.