The Fires of Summer (first draft)

When Smock wakes up, he can feel Axel's body still pressed against him. He doesn't remember when he fell asleep, nor how when he'd been so conflicted, nor how he'd not dreamt at all afterwards. He doesn't rise yet, shuffling onto his side so he can face the sleeping man.

Axel's expression is completely peaceful, his brow relaxed and his lips slightly open. It's hard to remember that intense look that'd been upon his face when he's like this, so vulnerable, his guard let down. It's so strange to see him without that smirk on his lips, or without a danger in his eyes, or without his serpentine tension. He's got a piece of hair on his face that keeps flicking around as his breath flows around it, a silly sight, and Smock gently sweeps it away, tucking it behind his long ear. He feels along the edge of it, then allows his fingers to trace the uppermost ridges on it, stopping when he comes to one of the inner piercings.

Smock has always wondered if his piercings damage his hearing. His father is a changeling, but his mother was a dark elf, the last one known to Aldelis. Dark elf ears are exceptionally sensitive, and with their keen echolocative abilities, surely something like a piercing would throw it off? He thinks to ask Axel later, but returns happily to observing him, smiling at the way his ears twitch at the touch. He moves his fingers to gently trace the curve of Axel's jaw, then down to his Adam's apple, feeling the warmth of his throat. Axel stirs and Smock retracts his hand, watching as the man's eye flutters open, his long white lashes batting with every blink. He mumbles something incoherent, then takes a deep breath and seems to come a little more to his senses.

"Dobroye utro," he mutters, propping himself up on his elbows and rubbing his eye. He feels the flowers on his face and frowns. "Ugh."

Smock guesses what his first words had been. "Good morning. What's wrong?"

"The flowers are annoying me," Axel responds. "They're itchy. I should've asked Keaberos if I could bring some stuff along with me..."

"I'm sorry, that must be uncomfortable," Smock wishes he could do more, but most of his knowledge about the disease is what not to do.

"It is, but I'm fine," he groans, disentangling himself from Smock's limbs and crawling over to his jacket. He finds bandages in a deep inside pocket, and starts to tear at the flowers on his face.

Smock has to look away at one point, the blood starting to drip over his face. He catches it in the bandages, then when he's done wraps his eye up. It starts to collect blood, staining the material red, and then when the blood seems to stop coming, he wraps it again with fresh bandages. Smock turns back and sees the damaged eye socket from which he'd torn away the flowers, his own eye starting to tingle. He blinks a few times, trying to vanquish the feeling, then decides to get dressed himself, trying not to fall over Axel's tail.

When Axel is ready, they head outside and start taking down the tents. The others join in, all awake by now. Smock goes to greet his horse when he's done, petting it on the side of its neck. It leans in to nuzzle him for a moment before he jumps up onto its back, leaving once Julien takes up the head again.

They're treated to a rare sight as they travel. Though it's not quite as impressive as the dragons in Gore, they see two griffins flying overhead, their feet pulled tight to their bodies and their feathered wings spread wide. They seem to be playful this morning, bumping into each other and biting at each other in a way that is far from deadly. Smock can't help but smile at the sight, remembering fondly how it feels to fly.

Axel calls to everyone some time during the journey, pointing towards some trees. At first a ripple of confusion courses through the group, but quickly they realise that there are apples growing from them, and they bring the horses to a stop. The group hasn't eaten, and nor have the animals, so it's a welcome detour.

Smock brings the raven horse to a stop in a patch where some of the apples have fallen to the ground, and the others have the same idea, allowing the animals to rest and eat as much as they'd like. Then they dismount, and start picking who's going to climb the tree to shake the apples down for the rest of them.

He refrains from offering, not wanting to be up in a tree again. It makes him think of Klaus, and he doesn't feel like having a bad start to his day. He watches as finally Axel is nominated, stripping of his jacket and using his tail to help him. When he reaches the upper branches, he can't seem to reach them alone, so he uses his tail like that of a monkey, curling it over a branch and using it to hold on, hanging upside down until he manages to pull himself up and hug the tree, pulling himself onto it and shaking it.

Apples start to fall, the branch jostling others into action, and everyone rushes to pick them up, checking them for holes before starting to eat. Smock notes the particularly crisp and juicy nature of the fruits as he sits on the ground to eat, how exquisite they taste in comparison to anything he's ever eaten.

"They weren't lying about it being the Bountiful Isles," Ophelia giggles, "even the food is better."

"You've been everywhere, Ophelia. No way is this the best you've had?" Julien tilts his head. He sticks his fangs in the apple and drains it completely of life until it's shrivelled, then he throws it away and goes for another. Vampires can't taste nor become full from regular food, or the taste is at least heavily nullified, so he must be feeling really hungry to be trying to eat it, especially when it can't truly fill his stomach.

"It is," she nods. "The soil here is just better, I guess!"

Smock tunes out of their conversation as Axel drops down from the tree and comes pacing over to him, tossing an apple in his hand, then crouching to his level. "Enjoying the fruits of my labour?"

"That's a dumb pun," Smock can't help but laugh.

"You just don't have my spectacular humour," Axel smirks, taking a bite of his apple, humming lightly. "Huh. It is pretty good."

"Yeah," he agrees, throwing his core to the horses and taking up another of the freshly-shaken apples. "But sure, thanks Ax."

The changeling's hand finds Smock's, and for a moment it startles him, but he allows the touch, letting Axel entwine their fingers. It's strange, holding someone's hand like this, but there's a secure and warm feeling that flows through him at it. Axel doesn't say anything, just eating. Smock doesn't say anything either, realising slowly that last night had caused a change in their relationship. Despite that, he still thinks of Axel as his best friend, no matter what happened, no matter that he'd kissed him with such desire.

But then he thinks of Ellamia again, and while he doesn't move his hand, he does stop thinking about the night before.

Axel seems to start looking at him fondly at some point, and suddenly the man says, "Ant jamilat jidana..."

Smock's cheeks go a little red. You're so pretty. He turns to Axel, eyes wide. "Awh, haqaa?"

Now it's Axel's turn to look surprised. His mouth opens for a moment like he's going to respond, then he shuts it, a blush spreading across his face. Then, he continues in the language of the raven elves, "You know how to speak raven elf?"

Smock pauses, knowing this is yet another thing that looks incredibly suspicious, but he's already given it away now. He too speaks the language as he replies. "Yes, I'm more shocked that you do? How many languages do you know?"

"Uhh, four counting this and common, I think," he responds, averting his gaze. "The Archangel of death speaks it, and I know everything about Azrael, so..."

To his credit, he does speak it very well, clearly having spent a lot of time practising. He happily changes the subject, though. "You think I'm that pretty?"

"Yeah," he looks down, squeezing Smock's hand. "I didn't realise you'd hear it, though."

"Well I don't mind," he smiles, admiring the way the warmth looks on Axel's regal face.

Suddenly, Grey calls out from behind them. "Are you two done flirting? I'm guessing you've been flirting, anyway. We're heading off."

Both Axel and Smock return to common as they call back in unison, "We were not flirting!"

Grey only laughs. "You were so flirting."

Axel removes his hand from Smock's, sending a smile his way before he goes to get back atop his horse. The pirate follows shortly afterwards.

Back on the horses again, they continue onwards. Smock figures they can't be too far from the capital now, and as he looks across the vast meadows and hills he can't see it yet, but he does spot a ruin ahead of them. As he observes it, he figures it must be the remnant of some small village, the bases of buildings that must have been otherwise wooden as grim reminders of the war. He sees some scattered tiles from the rooves, but it seems like time has claimed most of them, the remains of some of them likely trod into fine dust under the dirt. They pass by slowly, getting a good look at it before they pick up their pace again.

"If only Lazuli had won in the war," Ophelia sighs.

"She would've made a better monarch than Corvus," Axel agrees, frowning. "Though it definitely wouldn't have changed those terrible personalities that Corvus and Regus have."

"At least their terrible personalities wouldn't have been in the forefront. Lazuli wouldn't have stood for the world as it is now," Julien hums. "She was an advocate for many things, and the research into helping those with vampirism was one of them."

"Werewolves too," Kallisto adds glumly.

"And orcs," Julien nods. "They have always been faced with cruelty, but Lazuli at least made an effort to put in protections for them."

"Clarisse is like her," Axel notes. "Shame it's Canis next in line after Soren and not her. I hate the lot of them, but she might have done some good."

"You could always just go after Canis next," Grey offers.

"If the opportunity presents itself I won't hesitate," Axel says simply.

"Lord Canis might be a difficult target," Ophelia says, her webbed ears twitching. "He's pretty much in a fortress in Miria with how that castle is built, and he's well-guarded."

"You never know," Axel shrugs, his ears tilting slightly to take in new sounds as they enter into a patch of woodland. Unlike the other places of Aldelis, where you might hear odd footsteps or the distant sounds of something dangerous, or the howling of wolves, all that they can hear is birdsong. Distantly, Smock sees a group of deer watching them pass. They don't run away, seeming more curious than afraid.

"I hear Canis tries to advocate but doesn't stand his ground when he faces opposition," Kallisto says, completely relaxed on his brown horse, as though he's bonded with the animal quite a lot already.

"I've heard that too," Grey nods. "The wood elves I lived with used to talk about it. He has potential, he just doesn't know how to say no."

"That's unlike the Sanguises," Axel laughs bitterly. "Saying no to people who need them is all they ever do."

"Can't argue with that," Grey chuckles.

Smock doesn't feel strongly one way or the other about the other Sanguis children. He hasn't heard anything massively condemning about Soren, Canis, Clarisse, nor Erin - on the most part they seem like decent people despite their father. He can't speak so much about the other two children, Angelus and Kit. Apparently the latter went missing around the same time as the Queen died. Then, of course, there is the youngest, Axel. Smock could say a lot about him.

At last they begin to approach Óchthi Potamoú. Smock can see a river starting to come into view nearby, and he follows it with his eyes to where it crosses through the bright city and then out again the other side. A stretch of forest sits behind the city, framing its light colours prettily against the darker leaves of trees. The buildings are all made of pale wood and white or light grey stone, with roofs mostly blue or white, some on the outskirts orange. The buildings are a range of tall and small, some of them unique in their architecture.

Axel's form changes to the tiefling as he rides on, but the others stay as they are. Smock can't help but wonder if any of them have an empirical criminal record attached to their names. Julien might, but he doesn't know when the mask-wearing began, so it could very well be obscuring his identity. Murder would definitely warrant a record that spreads across the entirety of Aldelis.

"This has got to be the brightest city in Aldelis," Julien says, although he must be seeing it through shaded lenses thanks to the dark glass in the eyes of his mask.

"You haven't seen Treokyrin," Kallisto laughs. "It's already bright from the snow, but the architecture is all light blue and white too, like they're trying to blind you."

"I forget Axel sends you out to that place," Julien murmurs, turning to the changeling. "Do you want Kallisto to freeze to death?"

"I'd prefer him over you lot," Axel turns to look at them with his smirk. "He can turn into a wolf, after all. What can you guys do? Complain about things? Real useful in Treokyrin."

"If we weren't on horses I'd get down from here and strangle you," Julien sighs lightly. Smock wishes he would, just for the entertainment.

They enter into the city. It sits beside a hill, and the architecture is quite disorganised, with many streets and many twists and turns. Certain buildings feel oddly-placed and some areas are quite narrow or tightly-packed. Others are better, and as they head through the city in search of the stables, Smock finds himself feeling quite disorientated, not quite sure where he is or where he's been. But then they start to approach what must be a richer part of the city, where things start to open up and the buildings are well-distributed, growing in size. Eventually they find their way to a stable, where they leave their horses.

The raven horse is reluctant to be left, but when Baguette swoops down to accompany it, it calms a little, allowing itself to be moved in to the stables with the other horses. Smock presses his head to the horse's before he goes in reassurance, then joins the rest of the bunch.

"We need to find out where Soren is," Axel tells them. "We'll regroup here in, let's say, thirty minutes."

Everyone nods and spreads out. Kallisto and Smock both stay with Axel, as per usual, and he turns to them expectantly. The two look at each other, then back at the changeling.

"The riverside?" Kallisto suggests.

"Sure," Axel agrees, looking around to get his bearings and then heading along the side of a street. They follow, Smock completely perplexed by how he's managing to navigate this tightly-packed city, until they manage to reach the riverside, facing a bridge and an especially large building. It's not a castle or palace by any means - perhaps a mansion would be a fitting word. A pathway leads up to the building, which has pointed roofs and multiple segments. On either side of the pathway, at the top, are walls, and Smock reckons that there must be pools of water within them. There must be about four floors in the main segment of the building, perhaps five.

"Clarisse's place," Axel says, his voice dark. "Let's ask around if Soren's in there."

Smock moves out, looking around for a potential informant. There are no taverns in this specific area - it'd surely disturb the Princess to have that sort of ruckus nearby - but there is a cat cafe. It's a strange place to come asking about the prince, but he figures they must have gotten a lot of it since he's been here.

He heads into the shelter, having to go through two lots of doors to get in, likely a measure to ensure the cats stay inside. He walks carefully as not to step on the curious felines that come to greet him, and heads to the bar. There's a menu on the wall at the back decorated with cat paws, looking as though they've been made by stamping actual cat paws with paint on it, which is a cute little detail. Smock fishes for some money in his inside pockets and finds a single drachma.

"How can I help you?" a man comes to serve him, a smile on his face.

"I'd like a latte please," he smiles, handing over the drachma before the man can tell him the price. "No need to give change. And I'm wondering if Prince Soren's been around here lately?"

The man seems surprised by it all. "I can't take that much from you for just a latte."

"I don't see why not. I'm sure it'll do good for the cats," Smock looks down to a particularly curious black cat that sits by his feet, looking up at him with knowing yellow eyes.

"If you're sure..." the man takes the money, placing it inside of a wooden till, and goes about brewing the coffee. "Soren's been around here, yeah. He recently left Princess Clari's home, heading for the meadow behind it, so I hear."

"Right," Smock nods. "Does he come here often?"

"Not often. Maybe once or twice a year," he shrugs.

"I can't judge too hard. If I lived in Treokyrin I'd want to stay in the warm all day instead of travelling through that place," Smock almost shudders at the thought of it. Even in the summer Treokyrin is frozen over.

"Me too," the man laughs. "It's nice and even here in Athorea, but when we get air coming over from Treokyrin, we really feel it."

"I can bet," he smiles. The black cat won't seem to leave him alone, so he gives in and pets it, feeling how soft and well-groomed its fur is. These cats must be in very good care.

When his latte is done, the man comes over with it, but then prompts Smock to wait as he heads into the back. He returns a minute or so later with a plate and a slice of cake, which he pushes across the bar. "As thanks for your kindness."

"Aw," Smock takes both the drink and the cake in his hands, his balance impeccable from his years as an Archangel. "I appreciate it."

He takes his food and drink over to a free table next to the front window. He goes about both of them gradually, in no rush to get back to Axel considering they're supposed to have thirty minutes. The latte is well-made and the cake delicious. It's some sort of honey cake, and it has a uniquely wonderful taste about it that Smock, if he had more time, would absolutely have seconds of. He reminds himself to come back here sometime for the cake, assuming his face isn't put on a poster all over the city.

A few cats nose about, testing their luck, jumping onto the table and sniffing close to his food until he gently pushes them away, telling them that cake isn't for cats. The black cat jumps into his lap and curls up politely, deciding it's a good spot for a rest.

By the time he's finished he feels too guilty to move it, but he ends up braving through his feelings and gently lifting the kitty off to put back on the floor. "Sorry pal."

He waves goodbye to the barman and heads back outside, following the path Axel had taken to get them there back to the stable, where people have gathered. Axel and Kallisto join them last, and Smock is the first to speak. "Soren left for a meadow behind Clari's place. If he hasn't returned, he might still be there."

"I've heard this too," Grey nods, and the others do so in agreement.

"In that case," Axel clasps his hands together, his voice starting to sound giddy. "I'm going to go pursue him. The rest of you are free to do as you wish."

Smock is suddenly filled with an awful feeling, and as the others disperse, he runs to catch up with Axel. "I want to come."

"Great," the man looks at him with a bright, dangerous look in his eye, and grabs his hands. He pecks Smock on the lips before letting go and returning to walking, everything happening impossibly fast. He pauses for a moment, the feeling lingering on his skin, then he comes back to his senses. Axel is further ahead by now.

Smock goes with him, dread climbing through his veins.

They venture through the forest, Axel walking far too fast to be kept up with, leaving him a few paces ahead of Smock at all times. Smock barely has time to take in the forest. After a short while of walking, they emerge into a meadow.

It's covered in tall grass and flowers, lotus corniculatus and coltsfoot and purple hyacinth, bright and pretty. There's a horse grazing happily on the grass towards the middle, and next to it a young man kneeling in the grass, his hands holding the head of a daisy. He has the wings of a barn owl tucked close to his body, and his frame is very thin. His hair has the same wave in it as Corvus', but it's pulled to one side of his body, sitting over his shoulder. As they approach Smock sees his face is covered in white freckles like snowflakes all over his light rose pink skin. When he looks up, he blinks long lashes over eyes blue like a soft breath of winter against the sea, his pretty face turned to the light of the sky. There's no doubt that he's a prince.

"Hello-" Soren begins with his voice light like a winter breeze, but Axel doesn't stop walking towards him, and brings a knee crashing into the young man's jaw.

Immediately the frail prince is sent backwards, catching himself unsteadily on thin hands, but Axel doesn't relent. He never relents. He punches the prince in the face hard, his face twisting to one side, but then doesn't stop hitting him until Soren wrenches away, trying to clamber towards his horse, but Axel kicks him hard in the ribs before he can escape, next grabbing him by his collar.

"Do you even know who I am?" he hisses.

"Axel-" Soren is crying now, a sound that feels wrong, his voice so innocent now reduced to a horrible sob. "I'm sorry-"

Axel laughs a bitter laugh, this delirious look washed over his face. "Sorry? You're fucking sorry?"

"Yes! Please, I'm sorry," Soren begs, not even trying to struggle. His face is bruising already.

"You're not sorry," Axel throws the man to the ground again and steps on his chest, holding him in place. "You're only saying it because you know I'm about to kill you."

He moves his boot, tilting Soren's chin up with it, giving the man a good look over as he cries, his chest heaving.

Smock can't watch Soren die. "Axel, stop. This is too far."

He hears the way his voice shakes, how the authority in his voice falters. Axel turns immediately, that feverish smile still on his lips. "What?"

"Stop," Smock repeats, stronger this time. "Let him go."

"You're fucking kidding me," Axel is breathless, pressing his boot harder into the man's chin. "You're not stopping me from getting what I want. What I deserve."

"Soren hasn't done anything to you," Smock protests, raising his voice to a shout. "I'm sick of everything having to be about you. Corvus is the only one that has hurt you. Rabia is injured on that ship and the Pirate Lords are sitting ducks and all you can think about is killing someone that has nothing to do with this fucking revenge plot you're chasing!"

Axel doesn't hesitate to yell back. "Soren wasn't there when they tried to kill me, or when I was on the streets, or when the family found out I was still alive! Ignorance is just as bad as being the perpetrator yourself, I deserve this! I deserved better than to have to fight for my life every fucking day all because my grandfather decided I shouldn't live! I was just a child, Haley, a fucking child."

"I'm with you Ax, it's not fair," he clenches his fists, watching Soren's shaking figure in the grass, "but I can't let you kill someone that wasn't really involved in it."

"Wasn't involved? Soren had every ability to take me in or help me out," Axel points at him, trembling too now with anger.

"I didn't see you helping on my wedding day," Smock bites back.

Axel's tail lashes back and then forth and he digs his nails into his hands. "I was attacking the opposition's ship, Haley. Nothing would've saved us."

"Us? Saved us? You were the only one that made it out of there safe," Smock is completely yelling now, tears welling in his eyes, though they don't spill.

"I was on their ship when yours went down," the changeling looks betrayed, his smile dropping, leaving only a bitter frown and a hard look in his eye, and suddenly he moves his foot away from Soren. The prince crawls backwards towards his horse, but doesn't make any attempt to get back up yet.

Smock wonders if his legs are injured. He can see more than ever that Soren is just a man now. Not just a Sanguis, or a prince, but a young man. "I think we're done here, Axel."

Axel stares as if in awe, speechless for a few moments before he grabs one of his daggers. Smock expects him to attack someone, but instead he throws it at force into the dirt near Soren's feet before storming off back into the forest like there's fire beneath his feet. Smock doesn't realise he's breathless until he breathes in again, his tears finally spilling. He turns to Soren and they meet eyes, the prince's glassy from his tears, like diamonds. Smock doesn't speak. He doesn't have to.

When he goes back through the forest, time seems to slow down. He sees Soren's face, flushed with fear, eyes shiny with tears. In that moment there'd been nothing but a man - not a prince, just a man. It's not his fault he was born to Corvus, Smock thinks bitterly. Eventually he breaches the treeline and makes his way around Clari's mansion. He lifts his eyes to it and wonders if she would meet the same fate that was intended for Soren, too, just for being Corvus' daughter and not helping Axel. He wonders if Corvus has told them to be this way - nobody would dare to go against him, especially not the royal children who could evidently be cast aside if the need arose.

Axel isn't with the others when Smock returns to the group. Quickly he notices that Kallisto is also not present. The others turn to him with surprise, except Grey who doesn't seem to notice his approach yet.

"I'm surprised you're not dead," Julien is the first to speak, his arms crossed.

"Dead?" Smock frowns, looking across them with his brows furrowed. They all look a little grim, as though they'd been expecting something bad.

Ophelia averts her green eyes. "You stopped Axel from killing Soren. Anyone else would be dead for that by now."

Smock finds himself getting angry again. As if murder's the solution to all of his self-made problems. "Soren hasn't done anything to anyone. Corvus is the one we're after."

The group are quiet for a few moments, looking between each other. Then, Grey shrugs. "I don't care. We should go see if Keaberos and Kallisto have made any progress and start heading home."

Smock's shoulder aches almost perfectly on cue. "Right."

They take off, led by Ophelia and Julien, and as they walk Grey sidles up to Smock, touching his arm to make sure he's the right person. She offers him a smile, easing his suspicion that everyone's upset. "I think Axel really likes you."

He doesn't have to be told. "I know."

"The only other person that could even think about opposing Axel with his plans for Corvus is Kallisto," she continues, her voice matter-of-fact.

"So you all just follow him without question?" Smock asks bitterly. He can't imagine anything worse.

"When it comes to Corvus, but it's fine anyway because we all have the same goal," Grey answers, unbothered. "Otherwise, he does take criticism. This just means a lot to him, Haley. What made you stop him?"

Smock balls his hands into fists and confesses. He feels almost stupid explaining it to Grey, but he realises as he speaks that it's not that dumb at all, that perhaps he really has got a point. The wood elf listens to him with a complex expression, then touches his arm again. He can't figure out why this time, if perhaps it's for comfort or if she's trying to figure something out.

"Look, I can't say Axel will ever see it from your point of view, but I've got no issue with the Princes and I understand what you're saying, if that means anything," she assures him, her voice gentle. It takes the edge from his frustration and makes the breaths that have been speeding up return to a normal pace.

"I just don't understand," he says after a while, watching the ground moving under his feet. "One second we're best friends, and then the next it's like we're enemies."

A complicated expression overcomes her and she's silent for a few moments, as if searching for words. "He doesn't mean it, Haley. He's got a good heart but he changes quick as the tide. It's not his fault."

"It still hurts," Smock says.

"It does, and he needs to better himself," Grey agrees, her voice hushed, "but just know that he doesn't mean to hurt you."

He doesn't say anything, because he can't think of anything good to say at all, but he remembers what Axel said to him on the ship a few nights ago, and he reserves a shred of sympathy for Axel. I don't think anyone truly understands what that means, Axel had said, and Smock had told him, I hear you, and he reminds himself that he can't be half-hearted about what he says. Still, he allows himself to feel hurt; he has every right to be.

They come to the edge of the city and out onto the meadow, where Axel is pacingand Kallisto is standing with him. When the group approaches, Axel's eye lands straight on Smock, honing in on him like an enchanted arrow and piercing through his chest. He meets his gaze and doesn't look away, assured that he made the right decision.

Grey speaks to Axel, too far away for Smock to hear, and then the group retrieve their horses and get moving again through the trees. He keeps his distance from the changeling for the time being, not keen on speaking to him yet, especially when they're both in a sour mood.

He ends up in the company of Ophelia. She walks beside him for some time in silence, but eventually she speaks up, her voice quiet like she's trying to keep a secret. "I agree with you."

Smock raises a brow as he turns to look at her, intrigued by her unprovoked statement. "Well, I appreciate it."

She nods, and then hushes her voice even further. "What do you really think about the Sanguis family?"

"Well, I still despise them, but... I guess my qualms lie with Corvus and maybe Regus, and nobody else. The Princes and Princesses seem innocent," Smock shrugs.

"Yeah," Ophelia agrees, a gentle smile on her face. "Lady Erin and Lord Canis have been kind to me in the past, when I first left the ocean. I hear Soren is incredibly well-liked by his subjects, too, so he's not too bad either."

Smock isn't sure what to say. His life has mostly consisted of being harassed by the royal navy, not interacting with the Princes and Princesses, or at least he thought so. "That's good. I can't say I've heard much of them doing anything too bad at all."

"They don't do anything bad is why," Ophelia shrugs.

"I guess," Smock hums. "What does Axel want, really? Does he want them all to die? Does he want to become one of them?"

"I think what he wants is his family's love. But they won't give him that, so their demise is just as good," Ophelia answers. "Or, at least, he thinks it is."

"God, I just can't work him out," Smock groans, eyes drifting to where Axel walks. He's got his hands in his pockets and isn't walking with his back straight like usual, clearly in a mood.

"Nobody can. I don't think even he can," she laughs, brushing her hair over her shoulder. "Anyway, thank you for all the help on the ship."

"It's no problem. Thank you for being so willing to help," Smock is almost relieved by the change in subject matter. All the Axel talk is weighing him down.

"I'm more than happy to," Ophelia smiles, and he notices as she does that she smiles like Ellamia used to. He feels a tightness in his chest that doesn't seem to want to go away.

"Yeah," he tries to smile back, but can't seem to find it in him. They fall into a silence from there, and after a while Ophelia moves back into the rest of the group to talk to someone else.

Smock realises when she's gone that perhaps he's been closer to the Sanguis family than he realised. Of course, there's Coral and Pistrix, Princess and Prince respectively, and both pirates, but then there's Anguilla and Piscis, who he'd seen at the ball. It hadn't once crossed his mind that they'd been anything to do with the Sanguis family, and even now it just doesn't fit with the image he has of the bunch. Anguilla and Piscis are kind and friendly, with one being a pirate and the other seeming happy to work with them. It's evident that they've been to Pirate Island, so they must be trusted. He wonders how upset they'd be if they found out their nephew was beaten to death, if they'd cry and mourn. How could he have let Axel do that to them?

They find a place to settle as the night begins to draw closer. Smock gives the raven horse some attention before he sets up his tent. He gets inside with a yawn, ready to go to sleep, but there's noise from the cloth covering the entrance, and he sits up, rubbing his eyes drowsily. Axel ducks in, and Smock immediately frowns.

"I can't sleep," Axel says simply, clearly still in a bad mood.

Smock weighs out his choices, but he knows how bad the man's sleeping problems are, and he wouldn't wish that on him no matter what, so he opens his arm in invitation. Axel comes to snuggle underneath his arm, tucked in and looking comfortable. He says nothing as he drifts off to sleep, and neither does Smock, the warmth against him melting away his frustration, allowing him to rest.

In the middle of the night, Smock awakens again to the sound of something messing with the front of the tent. Axel wakes up around the same time, his hand immediately fetching out his blade, and the two lie together in anticipation, watching the way the material moves, like something is trying to get in, movements uneven and alive. Smock reminds himself that Athorea is safer than most places, that the threat likely isn't one that should cause them too much trouble.

Finally, the creature enters, and Smock is lost for words. His sleepy eyes gaze upon a small black figure with a white eye, covered in feathers and looking very proud of himself. Baguette hops over to them and rests in Smock's lap, looking up at him with a look of 'take that'. Axel stares at the bird, eye wide, and then releases a heavy sigh, laying back down and snuggling Smock's waist. He looks up when another animal attempts to enter the tent, but a raven horse definitely won't fit.

"I'm sorry pal," Smock sighs, "you can't fit in here. I'll give you attention in the morning."

The horse stares at him for a few moments with too much understanding in its eyes, then leaves them be.

Smock turns to Axel, who starts to laugh, and he can't help but join in. In that moment, everything dissipates between them into that familiar comfort, and Smock lowers himself, feeling as Baguette shifts again to get comfortable when he's lying down. He wraps his arms around Axel and the changeling does the same, the two of them pulled close to each other, chests pressing together with each breath. Axel's warmth is comforting and his touch gentle.

Smock brushes a stray few strands of Axel's hair behind his ear, looking at him properly, following the curve of each of his white lashes with his eyes, admiring how pretty they look on him. They both get back to sleep like that, wrapped in each others arms, a raven atop Smock. The night is calm from there on, perfectly serene, the only sound in the air being a soft chirp of crickets, a sleepy noise.

Smock doesn't have any nightmares at all.