Chapter Text
Sebastian kept the feathers he received from Leo in the pocket of his sorcerer’s coat. It was the safest place for them, really. He could have packed the griffin feather away in a box within a box beneath his bed, but the only way he could be certain Leo didn’t know about it—and what that meant about how he felt—was through the magic of the coat.
While the cardinal feather didn’t necessarily need the same treatment, he kept it there anyways. His hands, like with the ridge on his sash, always found their way to it, dampening the worry in his gut.
He twisted this feather between his fingers as he waited for Leo. He was at their usual spot for casting spellsongs—the pavilion by the pond where Sebastian had accidentally ordered Leo to jump into the water only a few months ago. Now they used it for the privacy; almost no one came by this early in the morning, especially after the weather turned cold.
They’d been at it for a few weeks with few successes in experimenting with the spellsongs. Firstly, they retried the polymorph spell (much to Sebastian’s protest). This time, however, they not only prepared a counterspell, but Leo turned himself into a large, scruffy dog rather than a tiny, very killable bird. A few tweaks to the phrasing of the spell and melody made it last a little under an hour. (It took a supreme amount of Sebastian’s self-control that day to not give Leo-dog ear scratches.)
The next spell they decided to tackle was the one they were currently working on: summon elemental—a spell normally cast by four people minimum.
In the past few attempts, they were able to conjure the wisp of a wind elemental, lasting a few seconds before fizzling out. Leo had altered the original spell, which originally commanded the specific shape and form of the elemental, and changed it to something more open ended. They wouldn’t be able to choose its shape, but, in theory, it was supposed to conjure something with only the one caster.
As of yet, they were unsuccessful.
But it would have gone better if Leo could meet him at their agreed upon time.
Sebastian glanced at his watch. At this rate, they would get a scant half an hour to work on it before class. Perhaps they needed to move their meetings to the evenings, considering Leo’s sleeping habits of late. He insisted that it would work, that he would make himself get up. Sebastian was starting to understand that there were some things Leo couldn’t control about himself—no matter how hard he tried.
He pulled his hands from his pockets and stepped from the pavilion, settling upon going to check on Leo, when the man himself came jogging through the gardens, violin secured to his back.
“Morning, Grimm!” He called as he trotted up to the pavilion, puffs of mist escaping his mouth. “Leaving already?”
“I’ve been waiting.”
“And now I’m here, so we can get started.” A shiver ran through Sebastian as Leo grabbed his upper arm and guided him back to the pavilion. “I have a composition I think will work this time.”
His hair was tied up in a bunch and damp from a shower. It was a wonder it hadn’t frosted over in the early winter air. Sebastian considered forcing him to write a drying charm, but Leo would probably end up casting it himself.
He went about unzipping his violin case and putting the instrument together. After tucking it under his chin, he bowed the open strings in pairs, furrowing his brows at discordance Sebastian couldn’t hear and adjusting the fine tuners as he went.
The violin itself was beautiful; the wood was a shiny, deep brown, and it was decorated with gilded filigree that depicted vines and flowers towards the chin rest. It was simultaneously surprising that it belonged to Leo, while also being the most fitting instrument for him.
This was the first thing that began to shatter Sebastian’s image of Leo––him being a fantastic violin player, that was. It was an instrument that he heard was inordinately difficult to master, requiring years of dedicated practice, and to Leo it seemed as trivial as sighing.
While Leo ran up and down some scales, Sebastian picked through the papers he left in the case.
“The one on top is the one I’m most optimistic about,” Leo said as he paced around while playing. “I don’t think it’s enough to ask the magic nicely to make a little wind wisp, we also have to give it some instructions. A purpose, if you will.”
“What are we asking it to do?’ Sebastian read through the words but couldn’t quite grasp the meaning. Maybe it would be worth learning the old language in the same way Leo had in order to better construct the spells.
“It’s going to do a little dance for us.” Leo finished his warmup with a flourish.
Sebastian smiled a hair. Of course, what else would Leovander Loveage have a magic fueled construct do for him?
Leo rubbed his hands together as if to warm them up, and then peeked over Sebastian’s shoulder while he read, definitely not making the process any slower at all. He smelled of fresh citrus and spice, and Sebastian swore he could feel the heat of his cheek where it hovered near his neck. His skin tingled while he read and reread the same line until the words finally meant something.
“Find anything dangerous yet?”
“As long as it’s wind and we don’t pour too much energy into it, the spell should be fine.” Sebastian eyed him. “Why, did you change something else?”
“Nope, everything’s above board, I promise. Just expected you to find something wrong with it.” Leo pulled away and stepped towards the center of the pavilion, violin cradled under his arm.
“It’s not that there’s been things wrong with your spells, Loveage, it’s that you tend to lack better judgement. I don’t want to accidentally summon a twelve-foot-tall fire being because we weren’t thorough.”
Leo turned on his heel and looked to him with eager eyes. "But wouldn’t that make the day so much more interesting?” If he kept looking at him like that, he might’ve just got what he wanted.
“Yes,” Sebastian admitted with a bit of effort. “Until it burns us to death.”
“Oh, you and your reason and… aversion to death.” Leo’s face soured as if even he didn’t like what he said. “Whatever, you win.”
They proceeded to set up the rest of the spell, placing a jar of deep red sand in the center of the pavilion. It was something that coterie troops did with the standard spell so they could track their wind sprite, and Sebastian had seen no good reason not to use such a marker. After Leo played and sang the melody of the spell a few times, Sebastian joined in.
Leo had a pleasant voice. His pitch was steady and clear, though there was a slight rasp that gave it character. His register was high enough that Sebastian found that he often had to sing an octave lower than him, producing a strange arrangement: Sebastian’s voice in the lower end actually casting the spell, and Leo with his voice and violin playing support above him.
The more they sang together, the more he was beginning to think he would enjoy this even if it had nothing to do with spell casting.
“Alright,” Sebastian said at the end of that run, “let’s cast the spell for real now.”
Nodding, Leo counted them off. Sebastian sang, but this time he wove his words with power, the air seeming to absorb his notes right as they passed his lips.
He knew magic wasn’t supposed to be visible as it was being cast, but he always thought he could see a faint haze electrify the air as he spoke a spell. Back when Leo was cursed, it was a good indicator for when he messed up and commanded Leo to do something against his will. It took a while after that for the fuzz in the air not to make his gut curl into a knot. Now, he associated it more with he and Leo’s singing, as this effect was the most apparent he’d ever seen when they cast spellsongs together. It was as if the weave of magic itself was leaning in for a closer look.
The air twisted and pulled the sand out of the jar, swirling into a miniature tornado and buffeting he and Leo with an icy breeze. After a few more lines of the spell, it began to morph into a blob about the size of a cat.
Then, the shape sprouted four stubby legs.
Sebastian smiled. That was further than they’d gotten before; usually it would form into an amorphous cloud before disintegrating into a mound of sand. As they reached the last line, he turned and caught Leo’s eye. He smiled back, washing Sebastian in warmth despite the cold.
Right as Leo played the last note, he cringed, and the violin made a strange, off-key sound. It was like the note pitched up and turned into glass.
“Damnit,” Leo said, lowering his violin as he shook out his fretting hand. “Hopefully that didn't mess it up too much.”
Sebastian’s smile faded. “What happened? You don’t usually mess up like that.”
“I— don’t worry about it, look... “
Leo pointed at the elemental, who, while retaining its legs, expanded. The sand became more dispersed and thin as it enlarged to the size of a tiger rather than a house cat.
It didn't stop growing.
Sebastian clenched his jaw as he reached for the sheet that held their prepared counter. “I’m casting the counterspell.”
“Wait! We don’t even know what it’s going to do yet.”
“And I don’t want to find out, Loveage.”
The wisp grew to about Leo’s height before stopping, four legs padding down to the stone floor. It had a feline-like shape, though it was much larger than any cat Sebastian had heard of, and it had long, lanky legs. It appraised he and Leo with its eyeless face.
Sebastian began casting the counterspell in his head, the base of his skull thrumming with magic. It was a basic counterspell—one that he memorized in their first tier. Grandmagic though the elemental might’ve been, this counter was supposed to be strong enough to unravel it.
The paper smoked, and just as he sensed it about to go through, the wisp made a move.
It darted towards him.
The wind elemental clipped Sebastian as it passed, tearing into his face and eyes as if it were made of flecks of glass instead of sand. As he finished out the spell, he fell to his knees, clutching his face. It stung so much that he thought that it might have carved out his eyes altogether, blinding him. Wouldn’t that have been a great way to end his career as a sorcerer? By casting pointless spells with Leovander Loveage?
“Grimm!”
There was a clunk and the reverberation of violin strings from Leo dropping his instrument in its case, and a scuff as he knelt beside him. A gust buffeted Sebastian’s hair and coat while he held in a groan from the horrible grit in his eyes.
“Did the counter go through?” He said through clenched teeth.
“Uhh,” Leo said oh so reassuringly. “I don’t think so. It looks like it ran away from us though, so that’s good.”
Yes, it was very good that they unleashed a rampaging wind elemental onto Luxe. He was about to say as much when the weight of Leo’s hand settled on Sebastian’s back. He was on all fours, forehead against the cold stone ground and eyes screwed shut. His face throbbed tremendously, and something warm dripped from his chin.
“Grimm, do you mind if I get a better look at you? It hit you pretty hard.”
Sebastian took in a deep, steadying breath, and lifted his head, though his neck made the movement jagged and jolting.
“Oh dear, that’s a lot of blood.”
“Is it?”
“Don’t worry! Face wounds bleed loads, right? Here, why don’t you lay down, and— and I’ll…”
He let Leo’s shaking hands flip him onto his back, shoving what Sebastian assumed to be his green sorcerer’s coat beneath his head. Leo dabbed the side of his face with his shirt sleeve, the blood already becoming tacky.
“Okay, it’s not so bad. It looks like you took your pretty face to some gravel, but other than that, you won’t be bleeding to death anytime soon.”
There was a tremble to Leo’s voice, and he supposed he understood why. The last time they were in a situation like this, Sebastian very much did bleed to death. Almost, at least.
“I’m okay, Loveage. You know I’ve had worse,” he said, finding a loose bit of fabric on Leo’s sleeve and tugging on it. “I’m actually more concerned about my eyes.”
“Oh. Can you open them?”
He tried, but after squinting them open just enough to see a bit of light, the scratching was too much.
“No.”
Leo let out a breath and hummed with an over exaggerated vibrato like he did when thinking about how to construct a spell.
There was a right answer, and that was Sebastian should have been taken to the infirmary. Though, he wasn’t sure if either of them was going to suggest it; Leo had his probation to think about, and it wouldn’t look great if Sebastian got caught casting experimental magic so dangerous that it injured him.
But there was the matter of the wind elemental they summoned.
“We need to tell Phade.”
“What?”
“The wind elemental. Someone needs to dispel it.”
He scoffed. “Let’s get you on your feet first before we worry about incinerating all of our future prospects. Who knows, maybe it’s already dissolved. Now, do you have your water bottle on you? The never-ending one?”
Sebastian set his jaw. “It’s in my bag.”
“Lovely, be right back.” Leo shuffled off to find the bottle.
They had to tell Phade. Or someone. It would be ridiculous to try and hide this. If Leo was so concerned about getting kicked out, they could say that it was Sebastian’s idea. This was completely different from accidentally casting forbidden magics—conjure elemental was a normal spell that most coterie troops utilized regularly; they simply modified it to be cast by one.
Sebastian opened his mouth to say this as Leo knelt beside him again, but of course he spoke first. “I was thinking I could write a more specific counterspell. Obviously, something we did to modify the spell was enough to stop the generic from working.”
“Loveage— “
“I don’t know what telling a professor is going to do, Grimm. They would do exactly as we would—hunt it down and counterspell it. This way we can get it before too much damage is done, and we won’t have to deal with explaining everything before we do. Plus, I’m the one that scrived it, I can write the best counter.”
“And what about when word gets back to the Fount about a rogue elemental trotting about Luxe? And that we were the ones to dispel it?”
“We were good samaritans simply passing by, and we have no idea where it came from, honest.”
“For someone who lies constantly, you’re terrible at it.”
“I do not lie constantly, I’m just not very forthcoming with the truth. There’s a difference.” Leo placed his palm against Sebastian’s unharmed cheek, which, in circumstances where he wasn’t in such an abysmal state, probably would have been a pleasant experience—the kind that sent warm tingles through his spine and into his belly.
Instead, all he felt was the grind of sand against his eyeball as Leo used his thumb to pull down his bottom lid. “Open your eyes as much as you can, I’m gonna flush them.”
Sebastian gritted his teeth and complied. He focused on the callouses on Leo’s palm and fingertips as he poured water. It chilled him to the bone and made him shiver uncontrollably, which acted somewhat as a good distraction from Leo scrubbing sand from his eyes. As he breathed deep, deliberate breaths, he found the cardinal feather in his pocket and twisted it around.
Then, through the rush of his heartbeat, he heard Leo humming.
It was a sweet little melody—something familiar and slightly nostalgic. As it progressed, the tension in Sebastian’s limbs melted away, the pain becoming dull. And, despite being on a cold stone floor as ice water was being poured onto his face, he was as warm and comfortable as if he were tucked into his own bed. “What’s that?”
“Oh, just an old folk song. Trying to distract you from how horrible I am at getting this shit out of your eyes.”
“Is it a spell?”
Leo paused. “No, why?”
Now that Leo wasn’t singing, his face throbbed more, though it wasn’t as bad as it was before. “It felt like it was relieving the pain.”
“That… wasn’t intentional.” Leo was so surprised that Sebastian held back his admonishment for him casting—again. But a pain relief spell that strong… that was Grandmagic, and Leo did it by wordlessly humming.
Maybe there was a more mundane explanation, like Leo’s voice being so comforting to Sebastian that it made him forget his pains. That, however, was something he’d only ever conjecture with him under pain of death.
“…Do you want me to continue?”
Sebastian pried open his eyes. He could see, so that was a good sign, though Leo’s face above him appeared as if behind smudged glass. Grains of sand dug into the corners of his eyes, but it was tolerable for now. The more he blinked, the better it felt.
“No, but help me up Loveage,” he said. “We need to dispel this thing before it causes more problems.”
- - - - -
They scurried through the streets of Luxe, following exasperated reports of a miniature sandstorm rolling through. Leo led, as he was far more familiar with the city than Sebastian was. It never interested him much to get to know its strange grid, the buildings oscillating from seeming older than Miendor itself, to ones that must’ve been built in the time he’d been at the Fount. Sebastian had his studies to worry about, after all; anything else was nothing more than a distraction that he needed to avoid.
Until recently, that was.
While they searched—and after Leo constructed a counterspell that he said would “definitely work”—Sebastian managed to coax a few drying charms out of him. He even wrote one for his own hair, which had, in fact, begun to frost over.
“You need something for your face, too,” Leo said.
Sebastian frowned. “What?”
“A first aid spell? A cosmetic charm maybe? I don’t know, Grimm, you look pretty rough. It might be hard getting people to talk to us when you look like that.”
“I look fine.”
Leo stopped and pulled Sebastian to see himself in the reflection of a shop window.
He did not look fine.
Blood crusted the side of his face, and his eyes, while feeling something close to normal again, were puffy and pink. Leo smiled in the reflection as Sebastian came to the realization that he was right.
“Go ahead,” he relented.
While they walked down the street, Leo scribbled on a piece of paper and then handed it to Sebastian. “It’s got a little bit of both in it, so you should feel better as well as not looking like a carriage crash victim I’m escorting around.”
Reading these spells, as short and simple as they were, proved infinitely more difficult with the haze clouding his vision. He stayed back while Leo chatted up a woman cleaning the glass from a broken window. He parsed one word after another, and by the time Leo returned, he cast the spell.
“Ah, there you are,” Leo said, “you’re good as new. Looks like it even covered that pimple right here.” He poked a spot on Sebastian’s chin that, yes, had been forming a blemish.
He glared at him. “My hero.”
Leo snickered. “Come on, I think we’re near.”
Two blocks over, there was some sort of courtyard cafe filled with umbrellaed tables and chairs. Within it, the wind elemental, now in the shape of a bull, pranced around and kicked over tables.
Sebastian held their new counterspell and began to cast. He memorized it on the way over so he wouldn’t have to waste precious time reading. To ensure the full cast went through, he spoke the words aloud this time. The elemental’s head snapped at attention to his voice. He tensed, ready to leap out of the way if it charged, and he’d certainly be ready to close his eyes this time.
As it took its first step towards him, a violin started playing––Leo’s violin.
At the far edge of the courtyard, Leo played a song. Not a magical spellsong, but a jaunty fiddle piece he could imagine a crowd of drunk people dancing to. When did he get all the way over there?
The wind elemental’s attention pivoted to the music as Sebastian cast. His heart raced as it stepped towards Leo. There were only a few lines left in the spell.
Instead of charging, it began to bob its head to the beat of Leo’s song. Sebastian stepped forward as he spoke the final line, willing the counterspell to creep in and rip up the threads of the spellsong keeping the creature here.
The paper smoked to ash in his fingers, but the elemental remained standing before Leo.
Sebastian shared a wide-eyed look with Leo and shook his head.
“That’s wonderful,” Leo said in a delicate voice, quiet enough to not overpower the music. Sebastian crept to his side, keeping his eyes on the head-bobbing bull of sand.
“I do have a backup idea,’ Leo said, “though I’m sure it will have about the same amount of luck as the counterspells.”
“What is it?” Sebastian breathed.
“Do you remember the directive I gave it?”
Sebastian cocked his head. “…to dance?”
“Yes. Very clever of me. I am so, so smart. I believe I might have worded it poorly, though.”
“And?”
“I think it interpreted it not just as ‘do a little dance’ but as ‘do a little dance with us.”
“How— “Sebastian took his eyes off the elemental and looked at Leo, making sure this wasn’t an elaborate trick he was playing on him. His pinched brows and worried eyes said he was about as serious as he could be. “Really, Loveage?”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But good news: all we have to do is dance for it, then, in theory, it will join us, and with its instructions being met, it should disappear.”
Sebastian let out a long breath and looked at the elemental. It inched even closer, making the distance between them a few feet at most.
“Fine,” he said, “but you’re going to have to lead. I don’t know how to dance.”
“You don’t know how…? Ugh, never mind. Follow me.”
Leo side-stepped the bull while fiddling around on his violin. With a playful hop, he picked up the pace and began to skip.
Easy enough; Sebastian could do that. He skipped after him with not nearly as much grace, but it would do. The elemental watched after them with a curious tilt to its head.
Leo did a twirl and something with his legs, and the best Sebastian could do was mimic the spin. His ears and the back of his neck burned as Leo stifled a laugh.
“You have to do something with your arms, Grimm. You look like a corpse that’s been reanimated from the waist down.”
“Do what with them? I don’t have a violin like you.”
Leo huffed and lowered the violin from his shoulder, replacing the tune with his voice and filling it in with the lyrics of an old farmer’s song. As they passed its case, he placed the violin down with one quick movement and turned back around to Sebastian.
They crashed into each other, and in the brief jumble of their limbs, Leo found Sebastian’s wrists and pulled him along into a spinning skip in the opposite direction they’d been going. He caught a glimpse of Leo’s gleaming face, windswept with loose pieces of hair, and forced himself to look where they were going before they took a tumble over a table. He had to stop himself from freezing in place when Leo’s hands slid down and held his own. Was that necessary? He supposed his arms moved more naturally with their fingers hooked together, but it was so distracting
Sebastian’s heart pulsed in his gums as he looked back at Leo. His eyes were intent upon the elemental as he sang, a determined set to his brows. Following his gaze, Sebastian peered over his shoulder. The wind elemental trotted in step with them, morphing from the bull to a cloud of sand whirling in a spin, and back into the creepy cat like shape from earlier. It twisted and hopped, riffing off what Leo did earlier.
If Sebastian had to define what it was doing, he would say it was indeed dancing.
He looked back to Leo, whose singing had become breathless and strained. He raised his brows and nodded, letting go of one of Sebastian’s hands while gripping the other. He spun them to a stop, facing the wind elemental as he held on one long note.
And with great exaggeration, he bowed, pulling Sebastian down with him. He tried his best to match, but he couldn’t say with any certainty that he looked as natural as Leo. After a moment, he peeked up and found that the wind elemental was bowing back. As they rose, the sand collapsed to the ground in a pile, formless once more.
It worked.
Leo panted deep breaths and flashed a toothy grin at Sebastian.
He could have kissed him. It was a thought that rushed through his mind more frequently as of late, so Sebastian had become adept at dodging it. Instead, it was quickly replaced with an intense desire to pull this silly man into a hug and tell him he was the most wonderful idiot he ever met, which was somehow even more humiliating.
Before he could do anything so bold, claps from the other side of the courtyard made both of them jump. A modest crowd of people gathered at the entrances and in the windows of shops, watching them, and now applauding them. How long had they been there?
Leo waved to them and someone shouted, “Do it again!”
“I would,” Leo said, “But I have no idea where that wind thing came from. Couldn’t scrive that spell if I wanted to, haha.”
It was the act of him letting go of Sebastian’s hand that made him realize that they’d still been clutched tight together.
Leo used his newly freed hand to slap him on the shoulder. “You can’t dance?”
“I— do I strike you as the kind of person that dances, Loveage?”
He sputtered. “You’re one of the best swordsmen I know!”
“Sword forms and whatever you were doing are not the same.”
“Oh Grimm,” he groaned, putting a hand on Sebastian’s back and leading him towards the onlookers “I really don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”
- - - - - -
Once they returned to campus, Phade and a swarm of other highly respected sorcerers at the Fount interrogated them for several hours. As horrible as they both were at lying, they managed to keep to their story: they had no idea where the rampaging wind elemental came from; they spotted it right outside campus and pursued it to try and dispel it. How they knew dancing would be its panacea, they couldn’t explain other than it was a hunch. Sebastian kicked Leo under the table for that one.
By the time they were let go, the sun had been set for at least an hour or two. Light flurries speckled the air as they walked side by side towards their dormitories. Sebastian had to slow his pace to match Leo’s, but that was okay; he wasn’t in a particular hurry.
“What happened with your violin playing earlier?” Sebastian asked, breaking the unusual long silence between them. Now that he had a moment to think, that was one thing that had bothered him since the morning.
“Hmm?” Leo broke out of his stupor and looked to him. His eyes were barely open as he plodded forward.
“That last note that messed up the spell. I am curious as to why that would have changed the spell so drastically, but more so as to why it happened at all.”
Leo went quiet for a moment, then said, “I just messed up.”
“You shook your hand like it hurt.”
Sebastian glared at Leo until he groaned and rolled his eyes. “Why are you so observant?”
“Why are you so dramatic?”
“Oh, it adds to the spice of life, Grimm.” Leo sighed. “Yes, I suppose it hurt. It’s a strange thing that has been happening ever since my fingernails went all black. Like little bee stings and electric buzzing, especially when I press down on my fingertips.”
“Has that affected your playing before today?”
“Only a little. It’s not constant and seems its worst when my hands are cold. I suppose today was simply a bad day. No need to bother yourself with it.”
Sebastian gaped at him. No need to bother himself with it? “Why didn’t you say anything? We could have moved our meetings inside where it was warm, or held off on casting today if it was bothering you so much.”
“I... didn’t think it would become a problem.”
“Loveage.”
"I know, I know, it seems silly in retrospect, I have to admit. This whole thing hinges on my violin playing, so maybe I should have told you that I was losing that.”
Sebastian’s insides sank. “You think you won’t be able to play anymore?”
“Oh, I certainly I hope not.” Leo let out a weak laugh and massaged his fingers like he was trying to warm them up. Was he in pain right now? “But we need not dwell on it Grimm. It’s more than manageable right now, and I’ll tell you if it gets worse.”
Sebastian looked ahead as they walked, their steps crunching in the thin layer of snow beginning to accumulate. How horrible it would be for Leo to lose his ability to play the violin. It was one of the few things that brought him real, unbridled joy, and for it to be lost over casting that damned healing spell...
They were quiet for the rest of the way, and as they rounded the corner of Sebastian’s dorm, Leo slowed to a stop and braced himself against the building’s bricked walls. Sebastian stepped to his side and steadied him by his other arm, which trembled beneath his grasp. “Are you alright, Loveage?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I don't think I've been awake this long since… well, since before the woods.”
Right, his fatigue. Yet another effect from his casting sickness. And Sebastian made Leo get up even earlier than usual that morning––not to mention the extreme amount of activity he’d been subjected to. It was a wonder that he was on his feet.
“I don’t think I’m going to make it. Back to my dorm, I mean.”
Down the street sat Leo’s dorm, a building that was at least a block’s worth of walking away. Not only that, but Leo also lived on the fourth floor. Sebastian debated whether he would be able to get Leo to scrive a few light foot spells to carry him back when a better solution hit him. “Can you make it to my dorm?”
Leo looked up at the building, eyes unfocused. “You’re on the third floor?”
“Yes.”
Leo wavered. “Maybe.”
Sebastian looked around. How were there no benches or anything? Did the Fount assume no one needed to sit ever? Not that it would have been the best solution for their current situation; it was freezing cold, and Leo didn’t need to fall asleep out here—especially with his hands being the way they were now.
“Come on,” Sebastian said, hooking his arm under Leo’s, “let’s get you upstairs.”
Leo blinked at him for a moment, an objection surely on his tongue. But he relented, relaxing against Sebastian. “‘Kay”
After a long and effortful trek up the stairs, they made it to Sebastian’s room, sweating in the magically heated interior of the building. He intended to drop Leo into the bed, seeing as the man was already half asleep, but Leo resisted his guiding. “I’m not taking your bed, Grimm, just put me in the chair.”
As always, he gave Leo what he wanted. Sebastian slumped him down in his desk chair as gently as he could manage (which was not very gentle at all) and helped him take off his violin case. Leo giggled as Sebastian untangled it from his arms and placed it on the floor.
“You’re ever graceful,” Leo said.
“Graceful enough to get you up three flights of stairs.”
Leo closed his eyes as he worked the tie out of his own hair. It flopped down in a frizzy mop as he ruffled his fingers through it. Sebastian glanced away when Leo caught him watching. “I’m going to make a spot for you on the floor.”
He pulled out an extra blanket he kept under his bed—the one his mom and cousin quilted for him in his second tier after remarking how cold the winters were at the Fount. It was puffy, and each square had a different floral pattern. He draped it onto the floor and folded it into a bed-like shape. As for pillows, he only had the one on his bed, so he took that and added it to the pile. He really should have thought about this more before offering to have someone sleep in his room, but many of his rational thoughts left him when it came to Leo and the storms that rolled in with him.
Sebastian turned back to find him leaned over, wavy hair in his face while his black tipped fingers fought with the laces on his shoe.
Well, that wouldn’t do.
Sebastian knelt down, shooing away Leo’s hands before untying the laces. He wiggled off both shoes and then worked on undoing his sash, sliding the smooth, wine-red silk from around his waist. He started to unbutton the coat, too, when his skin prickled furiously. It only then that it occurred to him that he was on his knees before Leo—undressing him. He froze in horror and looked up.
Leo’s face was hunched so close that their noses brushed, and so Sebastian jolted back and bumped his head on his desk.
“Woah, I’m sorry!” Leo’s eyes were more lucid now as he covered his mouth, hiding a grin. It seemed as if sitting and watching Sebastian make a fool of himself was all he needed for a second wind. “You okay Grimm?”
“Fine,” he said as he rubbed the throbbing spot on the back of his head. Heart racing, he stood up, not quite sure what to do with himself now. Why did he have to offer Leo a place to sleep? Surely it would have only been a little more effort to bring him up to his own room. And why, oh why did he have to start taking his clothes off? He was exhausted, not infirm, and he had to have picked up what that looked like, and—
“How’s that face doing?”
Sebastian frowned and looked at Leo, unsure of what he meant at first, but then remembered that, yes, his face did get sand blasted that very morning. “Oh. It’s fine.”
“Yeah, drop the cosmetic charm and let’s see, then.”
He took a deep breath, admittedly grateful for Leo’s deft redirection. Inside him, there was a little well of magic that had been burning all day to keep the charm alight. He blew it out with his exhale.
Leo paled. “Maybe you should be the one sitting down.”
It really didn’t feel that bad; yes, the injured skin felt tight and like if he moved wrong it would tear, and his vision was on and off blurry. He figured he could sleep it off.
Leo rolled over to the desk and pulled out a piece of paper from one of the neat stacks.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you another first aid spell before those lovely brown eyes of yours get some strange infection and fall out of your head. Do you have a pen and ink anywhere?” Leo dug through a drawer, which made Sebastian’s insides curl inward. No, the one thing he had to hide was in a magically sealed pocket on his person. There was nothing else to worry about.
Eventually Leo found ink and pen and began to write.
“Should you be scriving in this state? You barely made it up the stairs.”
“I promise I will crawl into that very comfortable looking… bed you’ve made on the floor as soon as I’m done.” Leo wrote slower than normal with his head hunched over the piece of parchment, words deliberate and large. He must have been feeling much more poorly than he let on if this was how he was scriving.
“Loveage…”
“Done.” Leo waved the piece of paper at Sebastian. “Now cast it before I do it for you.”
Sebastian bit his cheek. Why did he threaten that like it was nothing? “Fine.”
He read over the spell a few times, squinting through blurry eyes in the low light of the desk lamp. Smoke curled from his fingers, and a coolness rushed over his face. Perhaps it really was a good idea to cast a first aid spell.
By the time he finished casting, Leo dozed in the desk chair, eyes closed and head listed to the side. Messy strands of hair were in his face, and Sebastian bit back the urge to swipe them out of his eyes and behind his ear. Instead, he grabbed his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Leo’s eyes flicked half open.
“You need to go to sleep.”
“Whaddya think I was doing?”
“Getting ready to crack your head on the floor?”
Leo blinked and looked around like he realized he was still in the chair. “Right.”
Sebastian hoisted him up by his arm and all but dropped him onto the quilt. He really tried to be gentle with him, but it was hard to lug an adult man around when said adult man couldn’t help.
Leo didn’t seem to register the less-than-gentle treatment, as he immediately collapsed onto his front and closed his eyes. He heaved a deep breath and said, “G’nite, Grimm.”
A knot of tension undid itself within Sebastian. “Good night, Leovander.”
Leo was safe, warm, and asleep, though how comfortable, he couldn’t say; he was in his coat and trousers with only a quilt to cushion against the floor. There were sure to be some complaints in the morning.
Sebastian watched Leo as his breaths slowed into sleep. His blackened fingertips curled around the blanket, and the hollowness beneath his eyes deepened as he fell unconscious.
The more Sebastian learned of the cost of Leo’s healing spell, the less he believed it was worth it. Yes, he was grateful to be alive, but he also made his own choice; Leo shouldn’t have to suffer like this for it.
But every time Sebastian thought about what he would have done differently, there was nothing. He would have always jumped in front of the arrow because the thought of anything else made him sick—made him wonder if there was a point to any of this if he couldn’t save one person.
And that was the core of it, wasn’t it? He just wanted Leo to live. He wanted him to be able to go home to Sahnt, to write pretty songs, and scrive the incredible magic that Sebastian knew he was capable of.
His hand felt for the feather in his pocket—not the cardinal’s, but the bronze griffin feather. His fingers ran along the cool, metal barbs, prickles of magic biting his skin.
He let out a long, shuddering breath through his teeth as he finally looked away.