Work Text:
Fern crawled out from the riverbank, coughing and sputtering out water. He’d barely managed to lipread anything Lewis had been saying before they were sent sprawling down the current, but he could have sworn it had something to do with the glowing blonde hair that had filled the cave they were in.
He groaned, pulling himself up onto his elbows and coughing out the remnants of water in his lungs, looking around for the boy. He was slowly beginning to regret suggesting to take him out on this journey to go see the lights. Wouldn’t he have a good view of them from his tower anyway?
Lewis had climbed out of the water a bit before he had, working on lugging his hair out of the rushing current. Glitter Glue was attempting to shake the water off his fur before crawling to a spot in the grass where the sun shone still, attempting to dry himself before the sun fully set. Lewis glanced over at him and laughed, tugging the last of his hair out and wringing some of the water out.
“Oh, you’re sooooo funny,” Fern signed, before wincing in pain. He glanced down at his hands, noting a rather large gash on the palm of his right hand. The adrenaline must have been wearing off—he wasn’t even aware that he’d gotten a cut in the first place. He sighed, sitting up and applying pressure to it, sending shocks of pain through his arm.
The blonde seemed to take notice, and made his way over, crouching down.
“...yikes. Uhm.” He glanced around, furrowing his brow before getting up and offering a hand to Fern’s non-injured one. “I can help, I think.”
“Does it have something to do with that freaky ass hair of yours?” He meant it as a joke, because he was really sure he just must’ve been hallucinating the glowing hair because of oxygen deprivation, but the expression on Lewis’ face said differently. Disregarding the strangeness of the boy’s behavior, Fern allowed Lewis to tug him to his feet.
They walked a bit from the riverbank, the sun setting over the horizon, and quickly made up some sort of makeshift camp. A large log to use for a seat, a crackling fire emitting warmth and light, they had it set for the night. Glitter Glue curled up near the flames, sending about as knowing of a look as a cat could muster in their direction before opting to nap, his little body rising and falling with each breath he took.
Fern sat on the log, watching as Lewis carefully adjusted himself beside him.
“...Okay.” He signed as he spoke, and it was rusty, but all correct—he supposed years spent in that tower would have had to go towards something. Sign language was a pretty good option. “I really need you not to freak out.”
“I’m not gonna freak out.”
“No,” Lewis muttered, looking at him rather intensely. “I mean you cannot freak out on me once this is done. You can ask questions, and you can do whatever, but you cannot freak out.”
Fern gave him a funny look, but nodded. Carefully, with practiced hands, Lewis began to wrap his hair around Fern’s palm until it was fully covered, then dropping his hands in his lap. He almost felt bad about it—he was sure his blood would stain his hair, and he must’ve put in a lot of effort to keep it maintained. Lord knew Fern did his best to keep his hair beautiful while on the move.
Once it was wrapped, Lewis went entirely still, head bowed. He couldn’t see what he was saying, but he could tell his mouth was moving. This experience was…really turning out to be something strange, truly. He nearly turned his head, but suddenly, just like in the cave, a glow began to emanate from Lewis’ head.
The glow started from his roots, slowly moving down his hair. It was like playing with dominos, watching them fall and fall, eyes tracing the path, only with a breathtaking light. It moved and crept along his hair until reaching Fern’s palm.
And then…as soon as it had started, it was over. Lewis glanced up at him, a small flush on his cheeks as he pulled his hands closer to himself, nodding at his hand in an attempt to get him to pull the hair off.
Slowly, Fern obliged, unwinding the hair until he was faced with his bare palm. No blood, cuts, or even a scar remained. If he squinted, he could even see the small scars on his hands that had always been there were gone as well, erased entirely.
“...Is this why you were so adamant about bandits getting your hair?”
Lewis gave a small laugh, and Fern almost mourned the inability to hear what it sounded like—if it was as magical as what just occurred, it had to be mesmerizing.
“...Somewhat, yeah. It’s got this…I don’t know. Rejuvenating power to it. Bandits tried to take some when I was small, but…”
He turned his head, pulling some hair aside to reveal a small, brownish-blonde curl of hair.
“Once it’s cut, it’s gone. It won’t grow back or retain any of the powers it has.”
“...You know, I think the more I learn about you, Lewis, the more I’m amazed.” He gave him a smile, gently nudging his arm. “You better get some rest. We should be in the kingdom by the morning, and you’ve got an eighteenth birthday to celebrate. I’ll stay up for a bit to keep watch.”
Lewis beamed at him, nodding and getting up to retrieve some more firewood before sleeping.
Leaving that tower might just be the best decision he’s ever made—for once, the future he saw wasn’t within those walls, but out in the world. He couldn’t wait to start living it.
In the forest, a pair of eyes sat watching, narrowing in disgust at the scene before disappearing into the dark.