A moment’s hesitation, and Imriel was gone.
Maslin had followed him through shipwreck and imprisonment and endless miles of wilderness. Had...
Six months until Helena’s mourning period was over, and Lucius had been granted three of them to help see Montreve home. His father had been swayed...
A boy sprawled next to me on the bus, elbows out, knee pointing sharp into my thigh.
He frowned at me when I uncrossed my legs, unfolded my hands
and splayed out like boys are taught to: all big, loose limbs.
It is not possible that this unity of knowledge, feeling, and choice that you call your own should have sprung into being from nothingness at a...”
Six months until Helena’s mourning period was over, and Lucius had been granted three of them to help see Montreve home. His father had been swayed by the potential of stronger trade ties to Terre d’Ange; Helena’s father had been glad to take hold of his city again, without having to push the city’s newfound loyalty to Lucius; Helena had agreed that Lucius owed it to the D’Angelines to serve as something like an honor guard after all they had given in Lucca’s name.
But Lucius… Lucius was tired, bone-deep, and uneasy in his skin even though he was now its sole inhabitant, and his mind kept turning to the memory of Imriel’s hand combing through his hair the night before that last battle, Imriel’s low voice spinning an impossible tale by the firelight, Imriel’s chapped lips returning a playful, daring kiss.
Imriel’s eyes, solemn and dark, as Gallus Tadius dropped his death mask and consigned himself to hell, and the bronze echo of wingbeats coming from far away.
So Lucius took his three months and ran, all the way to Terre d’Ange. Montreve was quiet on the journey, brooding, and for once Lucius didn’t push. It was strange to hear Montreve tell his experience of the siege after his reunion with his family, such a different angle on Lucius’s still-disjointed memories, and when the Comtesse excused herself Lucius followed, leaving Montreve alone with his foster father.
But Lucius couldn’t sleep, so when he heard Montreve come upstairs some time later, Lucius slipped out of the guest room to knock on his door.
The man who answered the door, who invited Lucius in, was easy in a way Lucius had never seen. Still worn and thin, but settled, rid of some of his ghosts and newly confident. Lucius wanted that, desperately.
He breathed out “Imri—” and threw himself into Imriel’s arms, and Imriel caught him.
(If you want to prompt me, check out this page.)
I ship Imri/Lucius SO HARD.