dear friend, a world away

by kylaurien

Summary:

The series of letters between Maxwell and Monty as they trade personal news, cultural updates, and book chapters across the world boundary.

Notes:

been really struggling with narrative voice recently and then i remembered i can do what i want and writing is fun :D

Chapter 1

Montgomery LaMontgommery
LaMontgommery Gardens
Bellenuit
GATH

Dear Monty,

How long it seems since I have heard from you! Even with direct travel to Gath, I hope the journey home was without toll, and that this letter reaches you in good time and comfort. I have quite lost track of the seasons both here and back home, but I hope Courtney is not too cold. I do not doubt that you have engineered some kind of brilliant dino-heating system for him, or some other stroke of whimsy that befits you both.

I do regret that we have made you face the media circus of it all by yourself. I would be interested to hear about the public reaction to myth becoming fact, and to the deaths of our extremely influential friends and enemies alike.

If you are overwhelmed with it all, I can tentatively recommend my brother Roywell – he takes to administration with an odd earnestness. He might also want to know that Samwell, Wealwell, and I are alright, but I can always send him a separate letter. I do also need to send a message to our accountant, Ouroboros Codswallop, to put him in touch with Freyja. I expect she will enjoy putting him in his place.

As for the book, I think the tone is wonderful. I never knew just how much you changed to make it marketable. It is a nice feeling, to know our adventures can be shared with the whole world(s), and yet we can keep pieces of them for ourselves.

If you thought I would be offended at The Max as you have written him, you were dead wrong (sorry, been spending a lot of time around Sylvio. He also sends his regards, when he isn’t mouthing on my brother in broad goddamn daylight). Most of my embarrassing dialogue can be lost to history and memory – what a privilege! At the very least, maybe I will come across as cool, and not ruthlessly violent. The same sentiment goes for Torse, when you reach him in the narrative; there is much to him, and I know you will allow his character to extend further beyond his immense fighting prowess.

All is well on the Mark II. Our main adventures since you left have been finishing the victory tour in Tabira City (our friends the librarians lamented missing you!), Van and I finally conquering the fighting ring side by side (as it turns out, not as many people willing to face off against a woman who is half muscle and half cephalopod), and beginning research into the mysterious Shahar (actual calculations or directions remain elusive).

Ludmila is settling in wonderfully, with Marya’s help. I have not found much in common with her, but I am persisting (she does not know how to fist fight, yet). We did have a lovely heart-to-heart, as it were, talking about her mechanical one. She is deeply brave. Olethra has taken quite a shine to her, also braver by the day without the MechLeod to distract her.

Daisuke is improving. I did not know he could get a wiser, more sorrowful stare, but he uses it often. I do not doubt you will receive a letter from him soon, as he is constantly jotting bits down in that book of his. He has only shot Wealwell twice more, and never fatally, which is polite.

I fear I have a tendency to ramble, so I will cut myself off here. At least the rambles will not make it into your book! If you have any updates that you are willing to surrender to the Biangle, I should love to have a read.

I wish you all the best, and only success in your endeavours.

As always, your #1 fan,
Maxwell Gotch.

Chapter 2

Notes:

truly did not expect so much max/monty love!! thanks for all the support :):)

Maxwell Gotch of the Wind Riders
Zephyr Mark II, wherever she may fly
ZOOD

Dear Maxwell,

Truly wonderful to hear from you! I am glad you are not dead yet, and enjoying your surrender to whimsy. We all knew it would happen eventually.

I am well, if extraordinarily busy. Courtney is not fond of the city and all its blasted smog, so I am looking into alternative stomping grounds that he might like better.

I will give a short rundown of the headlines, because I am quite sick of them myself:

Our sky battle over Bellenuit and subsequent vanishing caused a global news sensation, and my return raised more questions than it answered; Mordecestershire’s vanishing has caused some significant economic and political disruption, which I am capitalising handsomely on; Comfrey was given a public remembrance, which I did speak at, but not at length; your estate has passed to Blanewell in light of Longspot’s “manslaughter”, as well as the “disappearances” of both Hatwell and Samwell. You let me know if you’d like me to out them as dead and alive, respectively.

My own press tour has distracted me from the book. I am having many meetings a day with botanists and zoologists and rangers of every calibre to talk about the fantastic things I have seen. Shedding new light on the nature of biology and life itself could not feel more my calling. Most are even willing to believe the fantastical things I say, and find belief in themselves as they find belief in me. As the Effulgent Biangle is still restricted, my word and samples are all the proof we have.

I have included rough drafts of the next few chapters as they are. Please do pass them around the crew; I would love to hear their thoughts. I have simplified Comfrey’s story more than I would have liked, but I made her a promise and I intend to keep it. I have also omitted much of Ludmila’s story that she would not want put to print. And time befrumplement is introduced at the beginning, to save the reader many of our frustrations.

You will see, hopefully, that everyone’s characters are consistent with how they were in the original books, for continuity’s sake. It has been a great joy to write our new additions, like you and Olethra, our sky-eyed runaway. And Wealwell, of course, solidest strongman in the west. 

The chapters I have sent cover up to the Magnamensa, and I expect that Torse and Freyja will be introduced together in the next section. Don’t worry, I have plans to present Torse as an extremely valiant knight, one befitting of our tough Max.

It brings me joy to hear that the adventures never cease. You may give Calhoun a copy of the drafts, as long as I get an anatomical drawing of his wonderful cuttlefish in return! Fair payment, I should think. Congratulations on the Tabira City win! One city down… Ludmila will probably warm to it soon, but consider that fist fighting may not be her prowess – has Wealwell shown off his katanas yet?

Thank you for the news about Pappy, too. He has not run off with the coyotes yet, which is something. Allow him his peace in these times, but remember that I have never once seen his adventurer’s spirit flag. The jottings in his notebook, by the way, are actually drawings. Landscapes, sketches of you all, anything he deems worthy of remembering and sending my way. I like to think he picked that up from me.

Give my love to the crew. How is Marya doing, now that her revenge has been sated? I look forward to hearing from you. I will see what I can do about contacting your family, if I get the time, but there is much for me to do here – the world never saves itself! Do not worry about me; plenty keeps me here.

All my best, and happy reading,

Montgomery LaMontgommery

Chapter 3

Montgomery LaMontgommery
LaMontgommery Gardens
Bellenuit
GATH

Not dead, still! Not without our close calls – we tracked back to Ramansu to mount a proper expedition, and to retrieve any of Comfrey’s research that we missed (which was quite a lot; she was a fan of secret drawers and cabinets and knobs and the like). Anyway, the eel-necked giraffes have considerable bite to them. You may be able to guess how I found this out.

Marya is sat next to me in the galley, rifling through Comfrey’s notes like I don’t even exist. Just like old times! She is far livelier than she could manage to be on our adventure, much more like the Marya I met as a boy. She talks near constantly now, mostly incomprehensible technical jargon that Ludmila soaks up like a sponge. They are together much more often than not, walking arm-in-arm around the deck. I think they will not separate for some time.

It is wonderful to hear there is excitement back home. Don’t work yourself too hard, we would like a Montgomery to return to! It will please you to hear that the Odan governing body have officially implemented a zero-tolerance policy for non-renewable fuels, which Van has taken to mean ‘vigilante justice against people trying to sell Widow’s Breath and/or coal’. No one has argued with her yet.

Samwell reckons he will return to Gath soon, and is sending his own advance warning back. My estimations were correct that he has been here for fifteen whole years before we even arrived, evading the Hand and learning the truth about our father amidst kickboxing training. We have been meeting some of his friends along the way, as well as his enemies (retainers that my father hired in his atrocious pyramid scheme; they do not bite so hard). On the plus side, he has offered up our grounds as a home for Courtney during the colder Bellenuit months – it is remote enough to be away from the smog, and has lots of room for running around. I spent the better part of twenty years running around in them myself.

He returns alongside Polaximus, Diaz, Diamonte, and Zaporano, who are planning a joint wedding. Dawderdale has made good “friends” with one of the gentlemen on this interdimensional mail ship that is so faithful to us, and if she does not volunteer to go with them soon, I am going to push her onto it myself. There is enough pining going on in this ship as it is.

As for the book – wonderful! Even as a rough draft, you have captured the feeling I held so often as a boy, hiding in my closet and reading with a torch. I agree completely that everything does make a great deal more sense with the time reveal at the beginning – will you present the energies truthfully? Or simplify them down a little? I am still in awe sometimes at just how much there is to this world.

I look forward to the next instalment, and to Torse’s introduction, and Freyja’s description. I find myself flattered that you think Torse as a knight is “befitting” of me, or my character – he is an excellent and treasured companion, and I miss him dearly. Hopefully I will see him soon, and I can report his opinions back to you. We are preparing for a trip to the new Zern as I write, alongside a Zumharan delegation and Jackway St Niles. He sends his best, as does his partner.

From the whole crew, I send total appreciation for tying up our loose ends. Van and Bert do miss the Nut terribly, and Olethra worries about her parents often. She and Ludmila have been working on reconstructing another Obtenebrant mirror, like the one from Katur that is dashed somewhere alongside the rest of the original Zephyr’s remains – who knows, we might be able to contact you directly soon!

We do all miss you. I admire you for going home. Sometimes I look around the deck and get the sinking feeling that we are all running from something, and I have seen how that ends. But it is comforting to know that we are doing good things with the time we have, both of us. Also, for fun, we have all been hugely exaggerating your abilities and exploits to Ludmila and I’m fairly certain she thinks that you possess magical powers, which is not far off the truth anyway.

Olethra has just invited me to play cards, at which she will doubtlessly cheat to annoy me, so I had best be indulging her in that. Stay strong in your diplomacy. Honor the honor system.

All my best, your friend as always,

Maxwell Gotch.

P.S. I have enclosed also our collective best attempt at an anatomical diagram of an eel-necked giraffe. We are sorely lacking a naturalist.

Chapter 4

Notes:

deeply enjoying these little post-canon moments - i hope you are too!!

Maxwell Gotch of the Wind Riders
Zephyr Mark II, wherever she may fly
ZOOD

Dear Maxwell,

Always a pleasure to hear from you, especially alive. I hope those giraffes did not tear you up as bad as the raptors did, but you’re a resilient lad. The drawing is lovely, by the way, I have pinned it up on my wall.

Thank you for all the well-wishes, they truly go a long way. Knowing that there are so many people in my corner brings me great comfort, even so far away from you all. I hope you feel the same.

Although soon, maybe I will not be so far away, with the mirror (genius!) and all the returners. I will be glad to see them again. I did receive the wedding invitations from the beautiful couples, and I will tell you all about the ceremony when it happens. I do love a wedding. I also have plans to invite the four of them and Samwell, and Miriam if you have pushed her off the ship, to speak at a lecture series on Zoodian culture, to clear up any public misconceptions I can from the very start.

And how many misconceptions there already are! Despite the crackling beacon of the Effulgent Biangle, a handful of my political opponents have begun to use my teachings about Zood to paint me as a madman and a conspiracy theorist. It would be more, but it is quite difficult to argue over the sound of Courtney’s rough, tough growl. I think I will take him on a trip to the Gotch estate soon to see how he likes it. Please, don’t give your brothers advance warning; I am expecting this to be very funny.

As always, I have included the next chapters for you to browse, with our heroes conquering the Rex Legion and rescuing the powerful Freyja and the valiant Torse. The Eyeless Hand and Jazzy Tazzy are also within the plot, very toned down. Time as an ocean and occultist rituals do not lend themselves well to children’s books. I also hope it works to introduce the energies (only three of them, and named for their colours rather than their qualities) and the Prime Disruption as common folklore, and not just a part of Comfrey’s research – was there anything important we missed at Ramansu, by the way?

It is good that you will be able to see Torse again soon. I know it was difficult for you two to part on different ships after Ludmila was saved, but – what is that old adage about distance and hearts? I am sure he will be delighted to share his home and his family with you. Do you think you will bring him to see Gath in the future? You may, of course, show him the book. I tend to skip out on most of the real-life romances to keep the imaginations of our readers alive, but I will attempt to do the two of you justice.

Do not be afraid of running, Max. You will have the strength to face these things when you are ready. The line between bravery and cowardice is defined mostly by knowing your enemy – do your best to search out its true nature, but do not be frustrated when it won’t stare you in the face either. Take it from me, and your experienced crew, that we are not strangers to this feeling. Never hesitate to reach out to me, or to them, if you find yourself doubting your path. These are new and exciting times, and infinite paths remain open to you.

Tonight, I am travelling to Eisengeist to take some metrical readings on air, water, and soil quality. Consumption of Widow’s Breath has declined, mostly because the man in charge of organising its production is dead, but public opinion of it is shifting as well. I am having a veterinarian friend send me reports from their clinic to assess the patterns in lung diseases of pets around the area as well. Even in these weeks since the deaths of Straka, Longspot, Comfrey, and Mordecestershire, I expect there to be some improvements. If you get the chance to acquire any data from Zern or Zood, I would be grateful.

Take care of the crew, don’t eat too much aioli, and don’t get into too many fights you don’t think you’ll win. Give my love to everyone, and assure them I am well. I have included some treats for Ghost Dog, courtesy of the veterinarian.

Wishing you the safest of journeys, if you want,

Montgomery LaMontgommery

Notes:

maxwell opens this letter and immediately receives a d4 of Guidance (he rolls a 1)

Chapter 5

Notes:

everyone guessing the plot in the comments is giving me life. we are all truly so obsessed with this idiot. also adding a slow burn tag because we're not even halfway through yet

Montgomery LaMontgommery
LaMontgommery Gardens
Bellenuit
GATH

Dear Monty,

If all goes to plan, this letter will have been put in your hands by Captain Dawderdale herself! She joined the mail ship of her own accord, I promise; she missed wearing uniform, I think, and was feeling much less comfortable flirting with a widowed Daisuke than a married Daisuke. Her logic and romantic preferences continue to evade me, but at least she has finally found a new man to pursue, even if it happens to be our mailman.

Freyja will miss her dearly. They have become extremely close in recent weeks, as I am sure you will hear. It is always difficult to watch a crew member move on, but destiny calls! She has been distracting herself by teaching Ludmila how to throw axes, which the both of them are quite concerningly good at. Marya wanted to get Wealwell to stand in as a target, but Samwell, ever-reasonable, has put a stop to that.

He is leaving tomorrow, from Tabira City. I think it has done him some good to see so much of the world, to get a little sky-eyed (maybe a little rowdy, too. I did manage to put him on his back fairly quickly, and he refused to fight me again after that). It has been nice to be with him and Wealwell again, in a place that we can be honest with each other without the horrid shadow of our father keeping us silent. Samwell was closer to your age than mine even before he got here, so I never used to be this friendly with him. It was not so hard to leave home the first time, but it stings to have home leave me. Destiny calls.

But enough about that. The book! A brilliant explanation, and I enjoy the changes that you have made. What we realised while scouring Comfrey’s notes (including many more Hand details that we found out in our own time, and research projects on Obtenebracy that Van has taken to poring over), is that Wealwell truly lacked vital understanding of much of the more technical goings-on during our adventures. Your simplified version has helped him greatly.

The fight scene was marvellous, as were the scenes in the rest of the temple. I read Freyja’s introduction to her and she was thrilled at how brave and resilient and beautiful you made her sound. It cheered her right up. I think Torse was bang on, too. You really captured his sensitivity and determination – in your last letter, describing Torse and I as ‘romantic’ was, I’m sure, a rather creative liberty, but I don’t find myself against it as a plot point if you think it adds to the story. I will ask his thoughts when we next meet.

However, our trip to Zern has regrettably been delayed, which has been the main focus the last few days. Many citizens of Zood, who are of course free to speak in the Luxaeternium, do not trust that Ludmila has been rehabilitated, and think that she is still the Queen of Zern in disguise. Explaining the Calefactory Biangle, and the exact nature of how time itself can be altered, has proved quite a challenge. We are doing our diplomatic best, but I am anxious to see the new Zern and its progress. I preferred it when I could solve my problems by hitting someone, to be frank with you.

As an aside, Samwell also asked me whether Torse would come back to Gath – great minds think alike! Torse has an explorer’s spirit, but for now I do not doubt that his own home requires his undivided focus. I am sure he would love to, someday. I do not think I would be concerned for his safety in Gath, especially if he were with me.

Do send updates from the environmental investigations on your end! It is so inspiring to hear how quickly the world begins to right itself, and that much quicker with your intervention. I am sure Radish will have some insights of his own for you to ponder if you aren’t already in touch with him. Between us, we will soon be able to have an extremely comprehensive overview of all three realms.

I mentioned running to Ghost Dog and Daisuke when I passed on your gift (tell the veterinarian thank you!), because I thought they would know. Not many of Daisuke’s stories involve settling down, after all. He said I seem more anxious these days – I assume because of Samwell’s leaving, and our difficulties with Zern – but that I need to accept my own thoughts. He did not elaborate, and I did not know what he meant. Probably some day it will all click. I will let you know.

Enjoy the wedding when it comes around! And if Courtney attends, please tell me how that goes. Make sure he does not kill any of my brothers, please.

Your friend across the Biangle,

Maxwell Gotch

Chapter 6

Notes:

hi friends and enemies! just a note to say slower updates from here on :( starting a new job and also trying to rehome a stray cat at the same time is a little bit stressful!!!!! ah well. the ao3 curse could be worse. anyway, i hope this chapter makes up for it <33 thank you as always for the support <33

Maxwell Gotch of the Wind Riders
Zephyr Mark II, wherever she may fly
ZOOD

Maxwell,

Sorry for skipping the introduction, but this is a really important question – are you not in love with Torse?

If the answer is no, could you take a long, hard look at yourself and think again? I can assure you that we all assumed. I have had multiple conversations with Van about the two of you together, and many others with crew members who shared this assumption. Do check in with yourself, and with the crew to make sure you’re all on the same page, because I guarantee that you aren’t.

Either way, how unfortunate that you were not able to make it to Zern this week. I would be fascinated to know more about the Aganti Zernai and Torse’s brethren. On an anatomical and a sociocultural level. If they are, as you say, as sensitive and determined as Torse, I think they will be great allies. That is upsetting about Ludmila; I hope she is not too affected by it. And if she is, I hope the axe-throwing makes for good catharsis.

I did see Dawderdale as she delivered your letter, and she is more sky-eyed than I have ever seen her. She is also coming to the Dames’ wedding tonight, with her new partner – you really did undersell how elderly he is, I assume out of courtesy. Courtney is also coming, and he is wearing a bow tie.

I have finished the Odan chapter of the book, but I have not sent you all of it. In light of this misunderstanding, I may revisit the page about friendship rituals after you have spoken to Torse in person. If your relationship is definitely platonic, and all of us are mistaken, I am happy to rewrite – whatever connection you do have is just as compelling as any romance, in or out of a narrative frame.

The sections I have included are of the festival, and I hope I have done the Odan people and culture justice. Our interaction with Mordecestershire is also in here – please do let me know Olethra’s thoughts! As deeply terrifying as that moment was for the both of us, I hope my retelling will bring some comfort to her memories, as she can see it from my point of view.

Even aside from the book, I have been extremely busy this week, as always. The research has proved equally fascinating and frustrating. The Ministry of Deranged Science was not too pleased with me “meddling”, and drove me out of Eisengeist. They cited some bullshit legislations about taking samples from private and protected domains. I, too, wish you were here to knock some sense into them.

However, I have many friends sending word-of-mouth reports about cleaner waters around the Kabillion Isles, and I did manage to measure a slight improvement in Eisengeistian air quality while I was there. I am drafting a report to send across to Radish, too, to promote some freedom of information in this world.

I also visited your home the day after Samwell arrived back, to check he was well and safe – he is. We sat outside for a drink and I let Courtney roam the garden while we had a lovely conversation about all manner of things. You may want to talk to him about Torse, as well. While we were talking, Johnwell came back from his work and damn near passed out at the sight of a dinosaur in his garden. I left him and Samwell to have their reunion, but not before having a good laugh. Courtney is getting big, so I don’t blame your poor brother.

I must be setting off soon. A celebration is sorely needed for my tired bones. I will pass on your news, and collect as much gossip as I can to send back in return. Honor the honor system, as irritating as it can be, but I hope you are able to continue on your way soon.

Wishing you the best in your difficult conversations,

Montgomery LaMontgommery

Chapter 7

Notes:

hiya darlings! it truly has not been that long but no joke my horoscope told me to update this today so. have disaster max! obviously, more to come. thank you for your patience <33

Montgomery LaMontgommery
LaMontgommery Gardens
Bellenuit
GATH

Monty,

It has been an incredibly frustrating week, because of your last letter. To answer your question: No! I am not in a relationship with Torse!

It is incredibly surprising to me that this is such a consensus. I have not even thought about it before this week, and somehow everyone is under this impression. What exactly have either Torse or I done to cause this? I have been racking my brains, but I genuinely cannot think, and everyone else refuses to tell me.

Van and Bert were completely shocked when I told them. Everyone else (including Ludmila, somehow, despite the fact that she met Torse exactly once) also assumed that  I was in love with him, or that he was in love with me, or some variation on that theme. Wealwell must have told Samwell wrong information at some point. I got into a rather fierce argument with Marya because she insisted that I am somehow unaware of my own feelings, which does not even seem possible. Olethra sided with her, and I admit I have been annoyed at the both of them since.

We are finally departing for Zern tomorrow, for real this time, so I will be able to clear the air, as it were. We travel alongside the Zumharan delegation, Jackway St Niles’ crew, and a giant supply of seeds and farming handbooks from Oda. It will be good to meet the Aganti Zernai, who I pray are a straightforward people. Debating with people for Ludmila’s re-entry has given me a perpetual headache. I do not want to generalise, but if even a small portion of Torse’s people are like him, I expect we will get along fine. I am so excited to see him again after all this time.

Olethra has been excited to go back to Zern now that nothing will try to kill us on sight. She wants to go scrap hunting, and Marya is excited to take her. Olethra has been drawing up blueprints for mechanical gauntlets and armor pieces, and both Daisuke and Sylvio have been teaching her to shoot. I think she wants to be as strong as the MechLeod ever was. I did leave your chapter out for her to read, and Van told me her reaction was largely pride.

I also enjoyed how you wrote the Odan festival. At the time, I must have been quite uncomfortable – to be honest, that was the first big community gathering I had ever been to (aside from the launch of the original Zephyr), and I did not know quite how to hold myself, especially with all the dangers and mysteries. Reading about it in your perspective makes me keenly anticipate the Sun Lion’s next return.

(Aside: what about the friendship ritual would need to be rewritten? Is that gesture not, by nature, entirely platonic?)

I am sorry to hear about the troubles in Eisengeist – how infuriating to be in a place without the honor system. Those bastards will learn eventually, when you are proven to be correct and the public rallies behind you, as they inevitably will. It is good that you have such a wonderful community of people at your back to assist with your research. All of us here on the Mark II will of course do our part to open the pathways for the education and free communication of all.

Speaking of, the Obtenebrant mirror is still having some teething problems. Thus far, we have been able to contact the Chapmans, but no others. Potentially, our roadblock is that the recipient of the message also needs to be in contact with Obtenebrant energy, or a second Obtenebrant mirror. It is unclear, and goes a little over my head at times, but I am doing my best.

How wonderful that you and Courtney are attending the wedding together! The image of Courtney in a little bow tie brought a big smile to my face. If you get a photograph, please send us at least a copy to put up in the galley. I hope our Dames have a beautiful day – what is next for them in Gath? I imagine the life of a Karakamachi courier has been stirred somewhat by the Biangles.

I must prepare for our crossing the horizon. I will of course tell you everything about how Zern is doing, and how Torse is doing. Hopefully, talking to him will sort out some of the crew’s confusion.

Forever grateful for your friendship,

Maxwell Gotch.

Chapter 8

Notes:

look, if i could spend two thousand words talking about the lesbian wedding i would. and i very well might sometime.

Maxwell Gotch of the Wind Riders
Zephyr Mark II, wherever she may fly
ZOOD

Dear Maxwell,

This may not reach you all the way in Zern, but hopefully Dawderdale can get to you on your return to Zood. I hope your trip has been productive – tell me everything about the restoration! And of course, get any samples you can back to me or Radish – is there a research centre in Zern? Did the parasites all die with Straka? Are the Naughtomata able to be revitalised or rehabilitated?

I trust Torse is well. I am glad I made you aware of the rumours before they could cause too much trouble! Even if I did inadvertently cause some awkwardness, do try to make up with Junker soon. She did not mean to offend too badly, especially because I get the sense that she was just trying to get a point across. A point that I agree with, by the way; sometimes our hearts are not quite connected to our minds, something that I am sure you have learned more deeply from Torse than yourself.

Of course, do not let anyone but the two of you dictate your relationship. I will say that your friendship does involve cues that can be mistaken – Torse is not nearly as comfortable with the rest of us as he is with you, and you understand best how he exists on every level except mechanical. Besides, the two of you did not have so much gentleness before meeting each other; it is good to see that brought out of you both. I will alter a few sections of the book to lessen the implications somewhat.

Speaking of, I regret that I do not have any more finished sections of the book to show you. It has been hectic over here, and I’m honestly grateful that I have the time to sit and write this short letter. Thank Olethra for her kind reaction, when you speak to her again. It is equal parts terrifying and invigorating that she is becoming her own mech, but if anyone can help to toughen up her exoskeleton, it would be Pappy. It is good to hear he is still an incredibly dangerous man.

Now, I must tell you about the wedding! An extremely fun day all round. Diamonte and Zaporano have come back to Gath much later than they lived in her, and actually made contact with some long descendants of their family lines to invite on their side. I spoke to them all at length about legacy, and community. The Dames both still have hope that we will eventually calculate a way to travel backwards through the Biangles. Someday! For now, they are enjoying their honeymoon, exploring and re-exploring this land together.

It was a truly beautiful ceremony, a crossing of cultures across more time than space, and an amazing combination of deeply old and modern traditions – the Dames were in full military attire, per custom, and did some excellent speeches and poetry and kneeling. And then a fantastic party afterwards. Lots of dancing, lots of drinks – Courtney has taken after his family’s taste for red wine, it seems. In lieu of a book chapter, I have included a photogram of us, with our crewmates-at-heart, Dawderdale, Polaximus, and Diaz, the latter in their gorgeous suits.

Aside from the celebrations, I have been doing too many things simultaneously – recovering, organising the lecture series, analysing and sending reports, trying to build a case against the Ministry of Deranged Sciences. Altogether too much, but I cannot say that I am bored. Griphall has arranged for me to speak to their biology students, and I am going to see if they will let me host the Zoodian series there. If not, Revington is on my list.

The Lady Greypace and I are still fighting to get Widow’s Breath out of production for good – the Ministry are now accusing me of ‘obstruction of scientific advancement’ because I am trying to stop them cut down forests for them to build mines and refinement plants. Which sounds more like their problem than mine. How shameful that public money goes towards funding such enormous hypocrites.

But I had better get back to work, as nice as the interlude has been. Safe travels, wherever you fly. Obviously, Polaximus, Diaz, Diamonte, and Zaporano wish all of you well, and I am sure they will visit soon enough.

Wishing you all a wonderful adventure,

Montgomery LaMontgommery

Chapter 9

Notes:

don't look at how long this chapter is. just don't. look, it wasn't my fault max didn't stop talking. please believe me.

Montgomery LaMontgommery
LaMontgommery Gardens
Bellenuit
GATH

Monty,

It is quite late in the evening, so excuse my handwriting, but I have several updates for you. The first is that we are back from Zern, just, with Torse having rejoined the Mark II temporarily for reasons of transport, practicality, and nostalgia. The second update is that I am completely, completely in love with him. So, there’s that.

I have told no one, and writing it down is the furthest out of my head it has gotten. I think Marya and Olethra would kill me if I said it (though we are thankfully back on speaking terms), and none of these people on this ship (that Torse is now on) can keep a secret. Not that it was ever a secret, apparently, since everyone knew about it except me. You can throw out my last letter if you have not  already. It is probably stupid in retrospect.

I will recount the Zern trip from a whole crew perspective, as well as mine, to kill two birds. We arrived at Castle Odpadku and were greeted by an assembly of Aganti Zernai, who have taken it over as their base. They are extremely lovely, extraordinarily courteous, as we learned, because they put such an emphasis on ritual and respect. From the air, the river has already started to form deposits of scrap in its meanders, which are easy spots to make bases and clean up from, rather than gathering from wider areas. As such, many communities have formed at the riverbanks, which is where we met Torse.

He was talkative and energised and wonderful as ever. Clean, almost glinting – the sky is not clear of smog, but the sunlight did seem a little brighter, a little less red. Marya, Ludmila, and Olethra went scrap diving along the river; Freyja stayed to talk to the Aganti Zernai and learn their prospective timelines and sort any finances or resources they might need; the rest stayed to help unload the resources we did bring with the Zumharan delegation. I think they left us alone on purpose.

We walked along the river together, talking. The landscape is cleaner, but I would not say it is easy to traverse yet. He did have to help me up ledges a couple of times and for the first time, I felt strange about taking his hand. He is well, and has missed us, and he spoke at great length about the joys of reuniting with his people and sharing the same heart. We reunited with the crew (and I found myself hardly paying attention to them), and Ludmila gave some beautiful words of apology and reverence, during which she sensitively revealed her own Zernian heart. I expect she would make an excellent ambassador, if she so chose.

And then, the Aganti proposed ritual combat. One of us, and one of them. That is a long-standing, traditional display of trust in their culture, to purposefully refrain from killing in a fight and to heal your opponent afterwards. I volunteered to be our combatant. Torse volunteered to be theirs. I have fought alongside him before, but never against him, and it is only now occurring to me that I was nervous for other reasons than a fear of getting hurt. Someone might have been able to clue me in if I hadn't refused to talk to them. I just didn't want anyone to get in my head.

He did win over me anyway, but it did not matter for the purposes of the tradition. It mattered to me a great deal. It was the opposite of what I usually feel at a defeat. I have always wanted to fight him, I think, since I found out he was a warrior. I fixed him up, and he fixed me up, and it did not then take long for me to come to the conclusion that I have come to. God.

Anyway. We spent three nights there, helping the restoration any way we could. Plants seem to take to the soil quickly, enriched with probably too many minerals – we have samples of almost everything to take back to Oda, our next stop. Just as we came from Gath and Zood to provide advice to the Zernians, a small group of Aganti have crossed back with us to pass on their advice and experience. Olethra asked Torse to come on the Mark II, and he delightedly agreed. I believe he is currently losing to her at cards. I would desperately like to join, but my mind would stray.

Dawderdale delivered your letter this morning (and I felt extremely exasperated at myself reading your excruciating observations and outreaches of outdated support) and got to confirm some answers for you with Torse – the Zernians do have a team of exceptional scientific minds (whom we met, and I think you will like), and they are creating a research space; the parasites are being rehabilitated to feed off unwanted rust to aid the cleanup; thus far, the bodies of Naughtomata are difficult to differentiate from scrap on the ground, so that is a future project.

The photo of you, Courtney, and our “crewmates-at-heart” (Dawderdale did tear up when I told her that over tea) is now up on the galley wall. How wonderful to hear about the wedding, and our delightful Dames! And how incredible that they have managed to find family and community so far into the future. It gives me some hope. We have not thought too much about time travel, because I think it is making all of our brains ache, but I know I am going to need to figure it out at some point.

Excellent work as always with the Ministry. They are almost impenetrable by design, in such a way that shooting one does not topple the rest, but you have done fantastic work getting on their nerves. Remain strong, and remain an annoyance to them; it is, at least, a way to drain their resources. And enjoy lecturing! I have been to Griphall on a couple of occasions – my father went there, and Hatwell was a legacy – and I think it is delightful, if old-fashioned. And, apparently, has headbutting rings in the basements, which sounds even more illegal than our tournaments at Revington.

I am nearing the end of the paper I own. These useless ramblings… I do apologise. I have spoken about myself far, far too much for one letter. If you have any advice that may ease my suffering, please do let me know? I feel like I am only now discovering what ‘love’ means, and what it can be. Maybe Ludmila wouldn’t tell Olethra if I told her? I will have a think while I inevitably fail to sleep, again.

Keep well, friend, and be strong where you can. Receiving your updates is perhaps the only thing keeping me sane in these insane days and nights.

With fond wishes and profuse apologies,

Maxwell Gotch.

P.S. No worries about the book with all your work to keep you busy, but would you mind sending me the friendship ritual scene that you cut? I think I would like to read it now.

Notes:

it only took him nine chapters guys i think he's doing great!!

Chapter 10

Notes:

thank you as always for all the love <3 i appreciate everyone following along!!!!

Maxwell Gotch of the Wind Riders
Zephyr Mark II, wherever she may fly
ZOOD

Dearest, dearest Maxwell,

I will admit, your letter gave me quite the laugh. Not at you! I am sure once the frustration passes, you will find the funny side of it if you have not already. Love is not convenient, or straightforward. I apologise if I or the crew forced you into this realisation somewhat, but I am regardless glad that you are there.

Now, I will not assume the answer to this question, but have you told anyone else? Or even Torse? Do you have plans to? This may well be what you feel like you are running from. And now that it is staring you in the face, it would be cowardice to turn away. That does not mean jump into something you are not ready for, but open your heart to it at least.

I guarantee Pappy will listen to you, and Van is always good at these kinds of conversations, and won’t make too much fun of you if you ask her nicely. In fact, the whole crew are behind you so long as you are honest. With them, and with yourself. Torse knows you very well, and will be able to tell if you start getting squirmy around him – embrace his company, you will need it. This is all far-reaching advice from my own experiences, bear in mind, and from the little we are able to converse like this. I will be able to give you better advice in person in, say, a month’s time?

Yes, I am planning a trip to Zood! This decision has been the highlight of my last few days, and I deeply look forward to it now, for many reasons. Courtney is presenting as homesick in this corner of the world, and a good romp around the Siltu will do him good. Radish has contacted me with some wonderful data about crystal formations naturally disrupting energy, which I wish to see for myself. He and I are long overdue an in-person catch-up.

And, of course, I miss you all. Writing and editing our adventure has made me into a nostalgic fool, much to Harry’s dismay. I refuse to cut out our little jokes and big swings. A written account is always rose-tinted, and I admit that we were in considerable danger the entire time, but what good fun regardless! I would like to return and be with you all without so much time pressure on our lives. Maybe you can rope me into researching Shahar, if you’re good.

It will also be beneficial for me to leave the public eye a moment. Truly, the Ministry are getting ruthless. I went to Griphall to lecture to a group of – mostly dead-eyed, but some extremely sharp – students, including the son of Senator DiMarco. The presentation itself went well, but it was there that I found out several of their outspoken environmentalist staff have ‘taken leave’, which I believe is misleading phrasing. Few have any information about their whereabouts.

But, I am still alive. Given the publicity of my disappearance the first time, I am sure the Ministry are reluctant to take any attempts at me themselves, but I would still like to keep my friends safe. Another reason to return to Zood is to confront the Hand dead-on about their interferences with Gathie and Zoodian environmental politics. If any of their members remain alive, that is.

I would also wish to see Zern while I am over! Your updates were fascinating, and thank you for answering my questions. The Aganti sound productive and organised, and I have faith that they will lead a great charge in restoring the land. Perhaps a cartographic expedition is in order to map the landscape which we have not seen. Because of course, Zern is a landmass exactly as large as Zood, and I have hardly looked past the riverbed. Well done to all of you for fostering good relations with them. I am sure it is not easy for Ludmila still, but I think she did exactly the right thing.

I have included the draft of the friendship ritual for your reference, as well as some of the Katur fight – now, I do have another logistical question for you. As far as the world is aware, Longspot Gotch never made it to Zood. Would you like me to omit your family’s involvement entirely? Include your brothers? This, I leave as your decision, since I have taken countless liberties already. In my version, Pappy really can hold his breath for hours, and I get to command the giant crab, because it is my book.

Also in this envelope is the draft of an itinerary for my visit, which is really more of a bucket list. Please, let our crew know. What is next for you all? Will you chaperone the Aganti until they return, or do you have greater adventures afoot? I look forward to the day soon when I will be able to hear updates from your mouth, rather than read them from your hand.

All the best from this side,

Montgommery LaMontgommery

Chapter 11

Notes:

who needs depression when there is pining to be done?

Montgomery LaMontgommery
LaMontgommery Gardens
Bellenuit
GATH

Dear Monty,

It has been a quiet week here on the Mark II, or maybe I have just not been paying attention. A quiet week that has become jubilant with news of your arrival! How exciting! I cannot wait to see you again. As you said, there is only so much that can be carried through a letter, and I am sure that I do not ramble nearly as much in person, as well. I will endeavour to give you our updates regardless.

No, I have not told Torse. That seems an insane suggestion, but it must not be, coming from you. He is with us for the next week or so (we will likely see him again when you arrive). Some of me wishes I had not realised at all how much more I feel than he does. It feels bad! Half the time, it feels selfish, and anxious, and uncomfortable. The other half, when we stay up late, just the two of us, talking about everything except us, feels golden. Timeless. Worth everything I have ever seen and so much more.

I did tell Ludmila, and I felt extremely guilty that I did not tell Olethra first. They are together more often than not, and I believe they sleep in the same bed. Olethra has such a spring in her step nowadays, and it is a joy to see her smile so often, but I know that she would immediately begin scheming. But Ludmila was delighted for me, and also urged me to tell him. I don’t know that I want to. I don’t see the point in making him less comfortable around me, which is a possibility. Her understanding and support is deeply appreciated anyway.

I did not tell Daisuke out loud, but I think he knows. We quietly watched the sunset together the other day. I cannot say I understand him as much as you do, but I certainly understand him enough to know that was a friendship ritual of a sort. I liked it more. And finally, I told Wealwell and Sylvio (another inseparable pair, still more confusing than the already bewildering sum of its parts). I was more nervous than I should have been, but my brother has always had my back.

The crew morale is high, but I think rather bored. Adventure has fallen to the wayside of calculations, and research, and errand-running. There is talk of returning to visit Goldbeard and his crew for a nautical stretch, which Van will be happy about. We also need technical advice, a couple of ship repairs, and more friends wouldn’t hurt! You must be familiar with the point in adventures where danger and fun start to sound synonymous?

Although, maybe not on your end. Stay safe back home. Even the celebrity that you are, the Ministry disappearing environmentalists is ominous and concerning. If you would ever a security detail, we’d be happy to come. Not that I think you will need it, but we do worry about you. I am glad to hear there are some bright minds at Griphall, but it absolutely does not surprise me that DiMarco sent his son there. Merit and morals are not in abundance there. Perhaps your visit will have changed that.

I have to say, we all deeply enjoyed the Katur fight as it is so far – and what a cliffhanger for us! Are you intending to have Comfrey join us at the bottom of the ocean? I am looking forward to how you write the reunions, even if some of us (Van) are a little dissatisfied with the fiction of us having to be saved. But they were also dissatisfied with how it actually went down, so I’m not sure you can win. Please do keep my father out of it; if you find a more stupid way for Hatwell to die, you may write it in, but otherwise leave it. Obviously, Samwell and Wealwell are staple plot points anyway.

And thank you for the Oda scene. I did not show it to anyone else, but I think it is beautiful. Another one to reread by torchlight under my covers.

Bert is making quesadillas for dinner. I will find out which animal/s the cheese comes from here this time. Don’t get into more trouble than you can handle, and we will see you very soon!

Counting down the days,

Maxwell Gotch.

P.S. If, and only if it is convenient, the crew were wondering if you had the time to gather a couple of our things from back home to bring with you. You don't have to. They made me include the list. I know it is long. Do not feel pressured, please.

Chapter 12

Notes:

i am so excited to share the final few chapters of this with yall :D

Maxwell Gotch of the Wind Riders
Zephyr Mark II, wherever she may fly
ZOOD

Dear Maxwell,

You will not have time to reply to this letter before I see you in person, but I wanted to write to you anyway. It seems a strange prospect that we have communicated like this for far longer than we were ever shipmates in-person, but it is, oddly, true.

Good job for telling the crew. You write as if it is the end of it all. I understand why you do not want to tell Torse, and anyone will sympathise with you on that. Changing a relationship in any way is hard. What I will say, is that there is a reason so many of us thought the two of you were already together, and it was not solely your behaviour. Torse likes you very much. Telling him is not just about being honest, it is opening your heart and letting him know that he is welcome to give you his. Maybe a scary prospect, but I am sure you will do fine.

You have been doing excellent work, although you have a right to feel bored. The highs and lows of an adventure like ours are not easily chased. When the stakes are not life and death, the stakes can feel like nothing at all. I do understand this. The way out is to remember that there is life in everything. Every step you take is monumental for something smaller than you. At the same time, there is immense power in these worlds, and you are not bigger than all of it.

I digress. I meant to talk logistics. Courtney and I will be coming to Zood on Dawderdale’s courier ship, since commercial travel through the Biangle has still not been implemented. They are picking us up from Scrapsylvania, since the Effulgent Biangle hangs currently over the Concentric Sea. If you would like to be easy to locate, I suggest somewhere between Oda and Ramansu. Do not rush back from Goldbeard (or his gold) on my account; Dawderdale is accustomed to seeking out the Mark II, “wherever she may fly”, as I always direct her.

I left Bellenuit several nights ago – not because of Mordecestershire’s remaining lackeys trying to hunt me down and intimidate me – but we begun lecture touring this week! The Dames have returned from honeymoon, and Samwell flew down to meet us. Our introductory talk at the Subterranean Congress was a roaring success, if I say so. I have been travelling ahead to prepare our next stops for when I return, and leaving Samwell to handle the press. He is a natural.

Coincidentally, our next stops happen to be close to where I can pick up suitcases worth of requested items. I spent a night in Pilby, and visited Hutch and Artemisia. I sent them a letter of condolence when I first got back, but I have been feeling guilty that I never saw them in person. I told them all about our adventures in the wide world, and how Olethra couldn’t be in better hands. Let her know they are well, and miss her very much. I have many consumable gifts to pass on.

I reached the Uplands yesterday, as there are many schools there that could benefit from radical information. The Nut is obviously not prospering as much as it was as a gastropub, but Nigel is taking good care of the place. Don’t tell Van, but he has replaced some of the furniture and it looks much better with some colour around. I stayed for karaoke, picked up some of Van and Bert’s belongings from a neighbour, and am now staying at an inn on the coast.

I cannot express enough excitement about these presentations. How much better they will be when I have all the samples and photograms I need, and parts of Radish’s research to show off, too… can you imagine if, when you were just starting at Revington, I had come and told you that all of your dreams were real? That is the sensation I hope to bring to the public. And I am certain we can achieve it.

Any more I have to say, I will wait to say in person. Be brave, Max, sooner rather than later, for your own sake. I have your back, as does Samwell, and all of your crew from all corners you can imagine. Until I see you, keep safe and take care.

Speak soon,

Montgomery LaMontgommery

Chapter 13

Notes:

maxwell is getting so good at taking advice from his friends

Torse,

Thank you for your patience. And I am sorry for insisting that you wait until you are back in Zern before unfolding this, but it is an insistence I must make, for my own sanity. I hope your journey back was pleasant.

As I write this, on your last night aboard the Mark II, I am excruciatingly aware that you are awake. Mere footsteps away, in fact, watching the night pass on the deck. And I am enclosed in my room, scratching into paper the words that I cannot push from my mouth. Once again, I will take this opportunity to apologise, this time for my cowardice. There are lots of things that I struggle with; you have doubtlessly surmised this by now. I am track-minded, internally clumsy, ignorant of myself at times. Honesty is not usually an enemy of mine, but here we are, at arms.

As I And though I should What all these words have talked around but not about, is how I feel about you. A topic that only numbs my fingers because of how much I want to say, all at once. You are always on my mind. The mention of your name lights me up inside. I see you and my attention orbits around you like a moon, drawn towards you like a magnet. In the grand scheme of our lives, it has not been long since we made acquaintance. But as vastly changed as I have been by these lands, I have been most affected by you.

Sensations brought by your words, your outlook, your fists, the likes of which I have never before felt, and I do not expect to feel from another being. This I am not used to devotion like I feel with you. Few have been such constant, consistent sources of light in my mind and memory. Just because the feeling is unfamiliar does not make me less sure of it. Harder to identify without Marya screaming it at me? Perhaps. But no less real, no less burning in my throat and fingertips.

My scattered and restless mind hopes for two things: that this is not too much of a shock to you (I admit, ashamedly, that the entire crew of the Zephyr individually presumed I held these feelings long before I realised it in my own time); and that you can empathise with me to some degree. Your heart, I know so well, carries such immense love for the world within it. I have seen the way you stare at the stars and the trees, at your family, and at your home. I sink into much the same reverence when I look at you.

Please If you do not reciprocate, do not force yourself to. And do not feel guilty. You are sincerely one of the best friends I have ever known, and the greatest warrior I have ever had the pleasure of fighting. May we fight again, someday. If I could have the transparent guarantee that I will once again share a moment like that with you, I would give up a truly embarrassing number of things.

And as I have held your heart in my hands, I give you mine, to do with whatever you wish. You may hurl it into the sun if you see fit, or pass it back with grace.

Or, I hope, keep it.

Yours, if you will have me or not,

Maxwell Gotch.

Chapter 14

Notes:

i'm alive i swear!!!
writing a narrative finale to the fic i wrote because i lost my narrative voice?? insane choice tbh but i was unfortunately plagued by visions again

The Dartmouth, named for Dawderdale’s partner and captain, is not a passenger ship. Monty is thankful that Courtney has been asleep for the majority of the journey, curled up over a pile of packages, and that the smell of home has not yet woken him up. They passed through the Biangle a few hours ago, the typhoon over the Concentric Sea giving way to the bright sunlight of Zood in a flash of golden lightning.

Monty stands on the storm-soaked deck, for there is little room anywhere else, and wonders at the forest of the Siltu stretching for miles beneath them. The smell of danger fills him with fondness and nostalgia. He has been writing almost non-stop since they left Scrapsylvania, but he put down his pen to stand in the winds of Zood once more, scanning the skies for the Zephyr.

Dawderdale is practised at this particular task. She puts a spyglass in his hand, and points to a speck almost directly ahead of them.

“I was right, that’s them,” she says. Monty raises the spyglass to one eye, and the shape of the Mark II comes into view, distant but certain. He claps Dawderdale on the shoulder.

“Incredible work as always,” he says, and she straightens her back.

As they gain proximity to the old ship, Monty can make out more and more details through the scope. Repaired scars on the balloons, garlands of flowers wreathed around the railings. People on deck, his friends. The shape of Van patrolling, Pappy and Ghost Dog sat back by the stern, Olethra up on the rigging. Maxwell’s silhouette sits against the mast, chatting to Wealwell, who is recognisable by posture alone. Marya and Ludmila must be piloting, Monty thinks. His heart thrums.

The Dartmouth approaches within signalling distance, and Monty cannot help himself. Courtney, sleepy and disoriented, has poked his head up onto deck, curious. Monty takes a deep breath of breeze.

“Sailors!” he yells out. “What’s your callsign?”

He does not need a spyglass to see the delight on Olethra’s face, the whip of her hair.

“The Zephyr!” she shouts back. Monty is still struck by how much of her grandmother’s spirit she carries in her form, and in her voice.

“Sounds like our stop, eh?” he says to Courtney, who roars tremendously. He really has found his voice.

A crunch splinters through the deck of the Dartmouth as Van fires the grappling hook at them, to pull them closer. Monty grabs his pack, his rifle, and saddles Courtney.

“We’ll meet you at the Ramansu Station dock,” Dawderdale says. “We can have a proper unpack then.”

“And a drink, to thank you for your services,” Monty tells her, as he clambers onto Courtney’s back.

“Pleasure’s all ours,” she smiles. “Have a good flight.” Monty tips his hat to her, and looks out to the Mark II. A considerable drop separates them from the forest canopy, and Monty really hopes the adventurer’s luck has not deserted him yet.

But once the ships are close enough, Courtney takes fierce run up, and jumps, over the treacherous gap, landing with a crack of flooring on the Zephyr. A cacophony of cheering and whooping and roaring and howling welcomes them. Monty’s heart sings at the homecoming, alive with exhilaration and relief. What a feeling.

The greetings are a blur. Van helps him down off Courtney and pulls him into a warm, writhing hug. Her tentacles have a blue-ish shine in sunlight, and her motor functions with them have increased dramatically – she takes Monty’s pack from him, recharges the grappling gun, and shakes Monty’s hand all at the same time. He laughs in reverence.

Olethra jumps down from the rigging to run into his arms. Monty squeezes her tight around her armour, before insisting they part so he can get a good look at her; brass hairclips, cogwork shoulder braces, shining coppery gauntlets on her arms. He honours their handiwork and Olethra, magnificently grown as she is, blushes with the same childish embarrassment.

Across the deck, Pappy catches Monty’s eye. He stands, bright in the sun, flanked by Ghost Dog and a sizeable swarm of nut pugs. He does not approach, knowing well that their time to be alone will come with patience, but he tips his hat. Monty tips his hat in return, deeply, soulfully invigorated.

Maxwell has disappeared somewhere, so Monty dips into the cockpit to greet his beloved Junker. He is not surprised to see Ludmila in the pilot’s seat, with Marya watching on proudly. She sees Monty and smiles wider than he has seen her do in ten years or so. He sweeps her off her feet, delighted beyond delight by the shine in her eyes and the colour in her cheeks. Kočka scurries across his arms and settles back on Ludmila’s shoulders.

Monty leaves to try and find Bert, perhaps Sylvio and Onion in the galley, but finds Maxwell first. He smiles at Monty, holds out a hand that Monty promptly ignores to give him a hug. There might be a slight grunt of protest from Maxwell, but he succumbs to it anyway.

“It’s good to see you, Max,” Monty says, holding him by the shoulders. What confidence in those eyes. His hair is longer, and he isn’t wearing a full suit anymore, blazer and waistcoat lost to time or the wind.

“You too, Monty. I hope your journey wasn’t too rough?” he says.

“Oh, wonderful. Mostly rain and then mostly sun. The Dartmouth is meeting us at Ramansu with all my cases.”

“Ah, amazing. Thank you so much for bringing all of our belongings, by the way,” he says. Monty laughs at the way Maxwell thinks that was a chore, and not a wonderful labour.

“My pleasure. Although, I do have one of your gifts on me now,” he says, and Maxwell lights up with curiosity. Monty walks back to where his pack sits, unzips the top pocket, and brings out a stack of papers to out in Maxwell’s hands. His eyes widen with reverent realisation. “Now, it’s only a first draft, but it does have an ending. Get to it when you can, and tell me what you think.” Maxwell grasps the manuscript carefully, like it is made of gold. Monty really hopes it is as valuable as Maxwell treats it.

“Wh- thank you.” He flicks through the pages. Monty pats him on the back.

“Come sit with us. I’ve got stories to learn myself,” he says, and heads over to where Van and Olethra have been playing with Courtney and attempting to stop him headbutting the masts out of excitement. Marya runs out of the cockpit, and Pappy sits next to him.

And so, the six of them sit and swap stories back and forth until the sun lowers in the sky, and Bert brings them all quesadillas to devour. Monty has missed this man’s cooking. And he has missed his crew more than his heart really understands. He gazes at all of them, trying to savour the moment as much as the meal.

---

The false moons light up the night, and a giggling crew. Wealwell’s expertly drunken playing wafts underneath their chatter as he sits in Sylvio’s arms. Ludmila, stone-faced, approaches from the captain’s quarters.

“Max,” she says, “am I going crazy, or is this a Zernian ship over there?” Maxwell frowns, and does not even wait for her to point.

“I thought I spotted it earlier, but it’s pretty far vex for a scout vessel.” Monty is almost too distracted by Maxwell’s navigational knowledge to register the actual incident. He turns to where Ludmila is looking and can pick out a shadow, and pair of headlights against the spotted dark.

“Are they tracking us?” Marya asks, mouth full of quesadilla.

“Might be an expedition ship. They were thinking of doing cartography runs,” Maxwell says.

“I’ve signalled them, but they’re coming in hot. We’ll be in range in a few minutes,” Ludmila says.

“I’ll drive,” Marya volunteers. “You stay to greet them.” Ludmila nods dutifully as Marya strides off to the cockpit.

“Right, thank you,” Maxwell says, and would be able to tell that he suddenly has too much nervous energy. Monty does the polite thing.

“Come point it out to me,” he says. Maxwell stands quickly, and Monty walks with him to the bow railing.

“It’s over th-“

“What’s going on?” Monty asks, cutting to the chase. Maxwell stares at him, as if incredulous at how see-through he is, but Monty finds him even easier to read in person than through letters. And he is very easy to read through letters.

“I didn’t tell him before he left. I just got so- so nervous around him. I couldn’t do it. So, I wrote him a letter.” Oh, Monty’s heart aches for this man. And for Torse.

“Well, that sounds a good idea. How did he react?”

“I don’t know. I told him not to open it until he got back to Zern,” Maxwell says, the red on his ears betraying how he thinks it was a childish idea. Monty disagrees, only a little.

“I see,” he says, badly hiding his glee. “How are you expecting to receive his response?”

Maxwell looks out at the approaching ship, uncertain.

“Well. Hm. He knows we’ll be in Zumhara with you in the next week or so. If he wants to see me, he knows where I’ll be,” Maxwell says. Monty would bet money on this being the first time Maxwell has even considered that Torse might want to give him a response. For such an intelligent, logical man, he could be so endearingly short-sighted sometimes.

“I respect your methods, Max, but is this not absolutely killing you?” he asks.

“No.” Maxwell drops his head to his arms, folded on the railing. “Yes.” He doesn’t look up when he speaks. “He would have gotten back to Zern about four days ago. He’s read it by now.” Monty has to resist ruffling his hair.

“There’s a part of you that wants him to be on that ship.”

“A part, yeah.” Maxwell sighs, staring at the ship. “The rest of me is terrified. And also thinks that’s stupid.” Monty slaps him on the back.

“Well, one way to find out.”

The engines of the Zernian ship are audible over the Zephyr’s propellors by now. The crew are congregating on the deck to watch its approach with calm, unthreatened energy. Makes a change, Monty thinks. Perspective is hard to grasp exactly in the dark, especially as Monty does not exactly remember the dimensions of Zernian crafts, but he can tell it is close. His eyes adjust, and he can make out one or two silhouettes standing on its deck.

“State your callsign!” Ludmila yells to them. “Are you in need of assistance?”

There is sudden movement in the dark, and Monty watches from the corner of his eye as Pappy and Sylvio reach for their guns.

A crack resounds from the Zephyr once again, as yet another passenger jumps aboard, claws digging into the floorboards. Monty recognises all those spikes.

“Torse-“ Maxwell says, and it is all he can say.

The red lights in Torse’s visor are trained on Maxwell, single-minded, joints spitting steam as he rushes, pins Maxwell against the mast. No one else moves, and no one else speaks.

“I will have you,” Torse says, his voicebox barely audible over the drone of the ship now beside them, “any way you desire.”

Maxwell swallows so hard Monty can see his throat pulse. Any courage Monty has in him, he is trying his hardest to psychically transmit to the stunned, starstruck Maxwell against the mast. After a long, still moment, he nods.

“Yes. Please,” he whispers. His fist is clenched at his side, white-knuckled, and Torse’s hand closes over it.

Slowly, Torse lowers his head, until Maxwell’s brow is pressed against his, eyes fallen shut and visor dimmed.

Monty catches Olethra’s eye.

“Oh my god,” she mouths at him, and Monty has to stifle a laugh at the state of the deck. Olethra and Ludmila are gripping each other’s hands excitedly; Pappy, Bert, and Van are watching fondly, almost tearfully; Wealwell still picks his banjo gently from Sylvio’s embrace.

And Maxwell opens his eyes to gaze at Torse, staggeringly in love, whispering something that Monty does not try to hear.

Monty breathes the forest air deep, committing every sense to memory. He needs an epilogue, after all.

Notes:

truly this has been such a joy to write!! never in my life have i had such fun with a fic!! giant huge massive thank you for reading and kudosing and commenting :D may you all see the world through monty's eyes <3

Notes:

if i don't update this regularly please yell at me in the comments or on tumblr!