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“Why does Fray not have a nameday?”
Ser Ompagne of the Deepblack had taken in two surly boys as adoptive sons and apprentices. What he hadn’t anticipated was how sweet each of them would still be, even after everything life had done to them. Sidurgu, in particular. The Auri child had an irrepressible goodness that was heartening as much as it was heartbreaking.
“Of course he has a nameday,” Ompagne replied, patiently. “He didn’t have a family, so we just don’t—“
“I know why he doesn’t have a nameday,” Sid said sharply, apparently taking some offense to what the little one mistook as condescension. “But why doesn’t he have a nameday?”
Ompagne put down his book and motioned for Sid to sit on his lap. He pouted, but hopped up despite his easily-wounded youthful pride. “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he said gently, leaning his head to tilt his ear Sid’s way.
“Why did you never give him one? Or ask him to pick one?” Sid asked. Ompagne glanced down and noticed he was fidgeting with something shiny in his hands, nascent claws scraping against something metallic.
Ompagne hummed, understanding dawning on him some. “Ah. He never asked, if I’m honest,” he said, sighing. “It never seemed to be something he wanted and I wasn’t going to force anything on him.”
“Is it too late?” Sid asked, his fidgeting stilling.
“Of course not,” Ompagne said. “If he wants to choose a nameday, I’d be more than happy to celebrate it with him.”
Sid nodded, pocketing what he had in his hand somewhere in his shirt. “Okay! I’ll get him to pick one then.”
“Wait now, Sid,” Ompagne said, a little sharply. The Auri child stopped short and looked up at him, eyes wide. “You heard what I said. About not wanting to force anything on him. You shouldn’t make him feel like he needs to do anything. You know Fray,” he said, and Sid nodded knowingly. “He’ll hate it if we make him pick a day. A nameday should be happy, a celebration. It won’t be if we force it on him.”
Sid sighed. “But what if it’s important?”
“Fray doesn’t seem to think it is.”
“It’s important to me,” he said with a fierce pout, hand sneaking into the pocket of his shirt once again. “But, fine.”
Sid hopped off his lap and Ompagne grunted, again noting that untapped strength that would undoubtedly need some honing.
“What do you have there?” He asked, gesturing to his fidgeting.
“Nothing,” Sid said sharply, going still and ducking out of view through the front door.
Ompagne sighed. That boy could move fast if he was spooked. He picked his book back up and hummed, wondering how long it’d be before Fray came through spitting like a pissed off barn cat.
.o.
Turns out - not very long.
But not for the reason Ompagne anticipated.
“Why did Sid come talk to you earlier?” He asked, abrupt and to the point, as always. He glared at Ompagne as if the elezen didn’t have several heads on him in height, his golden stare unwavering.
Ompagne put his book down, trying to suppress his surprise. Dealing with Fray on an obvious back foot never went well. “Why? Is something the matter?”
Fray’s glare narrowed, never trusting even now. “He’s been avoiding me all afternoon.”
“Maybe he’s focusing on his studies?”
Fray stared.
Ompagne sighed. “That was silly to suggest. What makes you think he’s avoiding you?”
“He told me so.”
Ompagne had to stifle a startled chuckle. “Ah that seems rather clear, yes.” And very much like Sidurgu. “And he didn’t tell you why?”
“No,” Fray harrumphed, making a seat for himself as he hopped up onto Ompagne’s lap, jostling the book from his hand. “I asked if he wanted to spar after lunch, like we usually do.”
Ompagne hummed knowingly. Not only had Sid offended Fray personally, but he’d disrupted his routine. Fray tended to cling to whatever semblance of stability he could grasp onto, fleeting as it usually was. “And he declined?”
“Yeah.” Fray sneered, trying to look angry. He wasn’t yet skilled enough in obfuscation to hide the hurt, though. “I asked what else he was up to, and he dodged the question. I asked nicely why he was being so weird, and he said he shouldn’t be spending time with me. Then he ran off and I can’t find him.”
Sid was frighteningly good at hiding when he truly didn’t want to be found. “And I presume you noticed he came from here, and assumed I was to blame for the behavior.”
“Obviously.”
Ompagne frowned. Fray was too cunning for his own good and his skill for tracking problems to their source would make him an excellent dark knight, at the expense of his safety undoubtedly.
“I think it better I not tell you why he came to me,” Ompagne replied, knowing better than to lie. These boys had enough trust issues already. “He’s upset, but not with you. He might just need some time.”
Fray grimaced. “What’s he upset about? I can fix it, probably.”
Ompagne was tempted to tell him - that it was Fray’s lack of a nameday that had Sid hiding in a tree somewhere, upset on behalf of his friend. But he knew his involvement would only complicate things further. Maybe he gave Sid the wrong advice…
“It’s something that matters to him,” Ompagne said. “And, I don’t think it matters much to you. That’s why he didn’t want to burden you with it.”
Fray’s frown was unrelenting. “That’s stupid,” he said, moving to jump from Ompagne’s lap. He grunted, not expecting the abrupt movement but Fray didn’t seem to notice in his haste.
The boy didn’t share any more of his mind, darting out of the room without another word. Ompagne sighed, but again - it was better to let them figure it out without him. One day, they’d have to do just that.
They’d be stronger for it, better off if they navigated these youthful trials together as they would hopefully continue to do as adults.
.o.
The seasons shifted as they always do, cool autumn slowly becoming windy winter, the freezing air from the mountains towering over Coerthas’ vast plains breezing through the valleys surrounding Ishgard.
Like a blanket of snow, a chilly impasse had settled between Sid and Fray in the weeks since he’d dared to stick his nose in a past that was none of his business, really. He’d stuck his hand over a fire and got burned and well - he couldn’t help caring, could he? Maybe he could.
He didn’t know, really - and it was confusing.
That’s why he left practice each day so quickly, with his tail between his legs. He was a coward; it was shameful, to wallow in his misery this way.
He fidgeted with the ring in his pocket, keeping it close - he wanted to find something to hang it on, something to keep it with him all the time…
Such a small thing, but it meant multitudes more than its weight in metal.
And he had no avenue for reciprocating. Starlight season was fast approaching, and small gifts would be exchanged again. He’d lose his opportunity to do something, anything, to keep things even between them if he waited much longer…
Maybe that’s why he ended up in a bookstore in Gridania, on one of their many trips south Master insisted on once winter blew into Ishgard. Ser Ompagne was reluctant to let him do much alone in Coerthas, given his appearance; in Gridania, though, he could breathe a little more freely.
And so he did, in a bookstore. He had been avoiding Fray, sure, but he had noticed for months the way he held onto the books Ompagne lent them for their studies. Those were ancient, arcane tomes - nothing he could find duplicates of. But other books… maybe, Fray would devour them as avidly.
And if he didn’t… well, he’d never have to know who they were from, right?
.o.
Sid was shoving books under his pillow when he wasn’t around.
Fray noticed when he jumped into bed and knocked his head against something unexpectedly hard beneath his sheets. He nursed the sudden sore spot and looked around for Sid, thinking it some kind of immature prank - but his fellow apprentice was nowhere to be found.
He’d taken to sleeping elsewhere. Not that Fray had noticed, or cared.
He mumbled curses under his breath as he searched for the rock that had been snuck in his bed, and pulled out — a book.
Part One: The Suns.
Fray ran his fingers over the filigreed text on the front, the leather cover and bindings warm after being under his covers for hours. He flipped open the front cover, the satisfying crack of a brand-new spine bending ringing in his ears. There was no name in the front, no stamp of ownership.
Was it his? He had looked furtively around, as if the book’s owner might materialize from the shadows. When no such specter appeared, he gathered the book to his chest greedily and decided not to question his good fortune. Doing so never served a poor kid well.
Until the second book appeared: Part Two: The Moons.
This, a second volume in a history. Penned by some old fart in Sharlayan, the first tome explained the cosmology of the sun. This, then, was the expansion of the first - a cosmological explication of the moon, and its cycles.
He’d read the first book in less than a week; the spine was already marked by a well-worn crease. This second volume wasn’t so thick. He’d finish it in a few days at most.
And it was a few days later that he overheard Sid asking the old man for a small allowance of gil…
His mind made the connection, like lightning scarring the ground with a scorched crater. He scowled - it was obvious what was happening. But—
.o.
“—What the fuck are you doing?”
Sid trembled, swallowing against Fray’s forearm pressed against his throat.
“What do you mean?” He tried, voice shaking.
“Cut the crap, you know what I mean,” Fray hissed, golden eyes narrowed dangerously. “What’s with the books? Where are you getting the money for them? They’re not cheap and I know you’re too clumsy to steal them.”
Sid pouted, but he didn’t refute Fray’s accurate assessment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice almost plaintive. He winced, his tail flicking between his legs anxiously.
Fray scowled and clenched his fist, pressing his arm against Sid’s neck. He had the taller boy crowded against a wall in their hitherto shared bedroom. He’d hidden in a pile of unfolded laundry until Sid slipped in, thinking himself alone.
He’d seen it - the book, the third volume. He’d been tempted for a moment to let the charade continue; the books were excellent and they were his, which was intoxicating and new. How easy it’d be to let Sid continue sneaking them under his sheets, like some fairy leaving treats in the night…
“I saw you sneaking in with this one,” he said, holding the evidence aloft. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
“No…”
“Then tell me what the hell you’re doing because this is weird, Sid.”
Sid clenched his jaw. “I can’t tell you,” he said, his voice tight through his teeth.
Fray’s gaze narrowed. “Because Master told you not to tell me about it?” He asked, remembering that odd conversation from weeks ago. “Because he told you to be all weird and ignore me?”
“He told me no such thing—“
“You’ve been avoiding me ever since you went to talk to him!”
“Because Master said it’d make you mad...”
Fray snorted, letting up on Sid’s neck. He took a long step backward, lengthening the space between them. “Well, I’m already mad. You might as well tell me.” He jerked his gaze downwards, noticing Sid fidgeting with something in his pocket.
Sid noticed that he noticed and abruptly went still.
“What’d you do with that ring I gave you?” Fray asked, eyes narrowing. He didn’t care, really - it had been a silly thing, a cheap token so he could check the “decent friend” box on Sid’s nameday. The small kiss that had accompanied it was similarly silly.
There was a long pause, and the sound of a deep breath. Sid looked down at his feet, the portrait of misery. Slowly, he took the ring out from his pocket. The cheap, shiny metal was worried all over with fingerprints. “Here,” he said, his voice as small as the ring. “I never put it down.”
Fray forced his face to show nothing of his surprise. “I thought you would have gotten rid of it by now,” he said, voice sharp enough that Sid winced. “Seeing that you’ve been avoiding me ever since I gave it to you.”
Sid’s eyes went wide and he shook his head vigorously, his wild hair flailing. “Oh no, that’s not— that’s not why I— it’s not what I intended at all…”
“Well,” Fray said, shrugging once and then shoving his hands in his pockets.
Sid’s lower lip trembled dangerously. He screwed his fists into the front of his shirt, ring clasped tightly in one hand. He said something, words muffled.
Fray leaned in, cupping a hand to his ear. “What was that?”
“You don’t have a nameday.”
The hand fell and Fray went still, losing control of his precise expression just long enough to look confused. “I—what?”
“You don’t have a nameday!” Sid shouted, like a volcano bubbling over. “You gave me something nice for mine and I wanted to give something in return but I didn’t have any day to do it on because Master never made you pick a nameday and I asked him why that was and he told me you just never asked for one and I suggested giving you one and he said you wouldn’t like it if we forced one on you and I had to have some space to figure out what to do and—“
Fray stepped up into his personal space, clapping a hand on his mouth. “Alright, slow down,” he hissed. “And stop shouting?”
Sid frowned against his palm but nodded. “Fine,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I wanted Master to give you a nameday to celebrate so I could… so I’d have reason to give you something nice, like you gave me. But he didn’t want to, so I just… ended up doing it anyway.”
“So, the books?”
Sid nodded. “I got the first one and thought I could go back to being normal after I caught you reading it because well — I’d given you something in return. But then I realized it was a part one. The shopkeeper said it was the first part of six so… I needed more money to get the rest…”
Fray stared at him and Sid trailed off under his scrutiny. “Sid,” he started, slowly. “That is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”
“Oh,” Sid said, his lip trembling dangerously once again.
“No, I like the books,” Fray said quickly, shaking his head. “I mean, avoiding me. Over a silly gift—“‘
“It’s not silly!” Sid said, fists tightening in his shirt. “It’s great! It’s the best gift I’ve gotten since—“ His sentence cut off sharply, a painful-sounding gasp bubbling in his throat. “It’s not silly,” he said again, the words coming out rough.
“It was still dumb to avoid me,” Fray said, crossing his arms against his chest. “And to spend so much money.”
“I wanted to get you something nice…”
“Three books all bound and done up gilded is more than nice, Sid,” he said flatly. “These are worth more than all my other belongings combined.”
“Good,” Sid said, sniffing and jerking his chin upwards defiantly. “You deserve them, you’ve already read the first two.”
Fray sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine, but don’t get the rest.”
“But—“
“Let Master get them for me, for Starlight or for doing good at lessons. I don’t need all six right now.”
Sid nodded and looked so relieved, it was almost funny. “Okay,” he murmured wetly.
“So you’ll stop avoiding me?”
A nod.
“Good, then we can—“ He was cut off by the air being knocked out of him by a slightly-taller au ra who hugged harder than a river python. “C’mon, Sid,” he choked out, his lungs protesting against being squeezed so.
Sid hugged him hard, tightening his hold briefly before letting go. “Sorry, I’m just really happy,” he said, reaching to wipe tears from his face with the back of his hands.
Fray shook his head, unable to help a fond smirk. “I’m happy too, now,” he said, reaching to help Sid bat some of the tears away. “Where’ve you been sleeping?”
“The barn…”
“With the chickens?”
“Yeah, they don’t like me much. They peck at me if I sleep in but they usually let up if I throw them some feed.”
Fray couldn’t help but laugh at that. The mental image was too good. “Well go get your stuff, it’s both our room again.”
Sid nodded and bounded out the door to do just that. Fray watched as he went and rubbed his now-sore sides. What an idiot.
.o.
Sidurgu actually lingered after his lecture. Ompagne craned his neck around his stacks of books, pausing as he put them away. But he was pleasantly surprised to see Sid do something other than bolt when Fray came into view, rounding the corner from putting his equipment away.
No, Sid was bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting eagerly. His furtive movements revealed a small glint of metal around his neck. “What do you have there?” Ompagne asked, gesturing to the jewelry. He couldn’t help the disapproving frown.
Sid made a small startled sound and quickly reached to tuck the bauble into his shirt. “It’s nothing,” he said, just as Fray came into earshot. “Well, it’s something. But I won’t let it get in the way.”
Ompagne watched as Fray smirked; there was something between them. Something that had thawed the chill that had settled between them and yes - it was better if he stayed out of it.
“Promise?”
Sid nodded, gaze torn between him and Fray as the other boy started to stray back towards the sparring grounds. “Promise,” he said.
“Get going then,” he said. Sid bolted like a hound let off from its leash, running to catch up with Fray as they both headed to the sparring grounds.
He was sure he had a grasp on each of his sons on their own. But whatever was between them should remain theirs. It wasn’t his to understand, and he doubted he’d be able to even if he tried.
And when Fray mentioned wanting to set the solstice as his nameday - well, he’d been right. They were stronger together - but also kinder, and wiser.
“Well, we’d best start preparations then,” he’d said and Fray’s small smile coupled with Sid’s barely-contained excitement would warm his tired heart for years.