Chapter Text
“The other soul that holds a fraction of your heart is…” Fischl searches for the correct term with which to regale her boyfriend, “a creature of the wilds?”
“He’s not a creature ,” Bennett laughs, stumbling over a rock in his path as the two of them wind their way towards Wolvendom, “Razor might be kinda feral but he’s a good guy!” He leans down and picks a wildflower from a bush as he walks past, twisting to step backward as he presents it to her, “you don’t need to worry, he’s going to like you!”
“I don’t believe that mein Fräulein is concerned, per se,” Oz adds as Fischl lapses into an uncharacteristic moment of silence, “she merely wonders if such a person will be able to comprehend the circumstances of her life.”
Bennett slows to a stop, reaching out to take Fischl’s hands, “I’m going to be honest, he probably won’t. He doesn’t have a great grasp on... words and stuff so he might be really confused.” She opens her mouth to retort but Bennett plows on, “he’s not going to be mean about anything or question you like other people do! You’ll just be… you.”
“I see,” Fischl squeezes his hands, offering what she hoped was a comforting smile. She didn’t mean to make Bennett worry, but this meeting had been weighing heavily on her for some time now. Bennett having another partner was not the issue, Fischl had supported this endeavor since such feelings bloomed between them, but the things she heard about Razor from the denizens of Mondstadt…
It was hard to overhear tales of a wild, bloodthirsty boy living among wolves, to see the faces of disgust or disapproval, and not fear for her love's safety just a bit.
“My heart is eased by the knowledge that the two of us hold equal interest in one shared concept,” Fischl continues walking, tugging Bennett back into motion beside her.
“You do?” Bennett turns to her, genuine confusion furrowing his brows. She gives his hand another pointed squeeze and his face flushes from the realization, “oh! Me.”
“So where is the fellow in question?” Oz asks, looking around at the dense forests of Wolvendom that encompassed them. The Night Raven looks tired, clearly bemoaning that he was now the chaperone to the meeting of Bennett’s two partners.
“Great question!” Bennett gives them one of his tense ‘oops’ smiles and then looks around, “Razor never told me where to meet him so… guess I’ll just call for him. Razor! Raaazorrr!”
“I am not sure that this is a good idea,” Oz cautions as Bennett cups his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice, “we may alert our enemies to where we are.”
As if waiting for Oz’s cue, the bushes to their right start to rustle violently. Bennett and Fischl summon their weapons, backing away from the greenery as it begins to smolder and smoke. The largest fire slime any of them had ever encountered rose from the grasses, its eyes fixed on them in a flaming rage.
Fischl’s fingers found the glimmering string of her bow, but before she could draw the arrow back to her cheek there was a blazing rush of electricity from behind them. A pulsing burst of purple energy blitzes past them, coalescing in the wide sweep of a greatsword’s swing towards the slime. The slime shudders and splits, falling to the ground with wet splatters at the boy’s feet and seeping back into the dirt.
Bennett’s face lights up as the boy banishes the claymore and turns to face them, “Razor!” He steps forward and throws his arms around Razor’s neck, recovering from the slime encounter remarkably fast.
Razor half pats Bennett on the back, looking disgruntled, “Bennet be careful. Forest dangerous.”
“Haha, yeah…” He steps back and scratches the back of his head, a tell-tale sign that he feels bad about startling the slime.
Fischl steps forward and dismisses her bow, “I am Fischl, the Prinzessin der Verurteilung who was summoned forward to bring light to this dismal place!”
“Fischl…” Razor rolls the name around in his mouth, nearly grimacing as the consonants fall stuttering from his mouth.
“My companion here is Ozvaldo von Hrafnavines, the Night Raven whose ashen wings sever night and day along the expanse of the universe. He comes hence from my Edelstein der Dunkelheit to assist in all things I require.”
Razor casts a panicked look in Bennett’s direction, who translates quickly with, “he’s summoned from her vision.”
“Ah,” he nods slowly, “Oz...valdo?”
Oz chuckles, a noise that has the wolf boy leaping back a few steps, “you may call me Oz.”
“Bird talks?” Razor approaches Oz again with curiosity and the raven flutters closer so that he can get a better look. The boy circles him, eyes narrowed as he tries to unravel the mystery of the creature before his eyes. Fischl’s hands clench by her sides when Razor reaches out a finger and runs a careful finger along Oz’s feathers.
Eventually, he steps back, running his tongue across his teeth, “smells strange. Lightning and ash…but friend of Bennett is friend of Razors.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Oz says, swooping back to land on Fischl’s shoulder. Now that Oz is safely out of reach, she takes a moment to take Razor in. He’s built to fight and survive, all lean muscle crisscrossed by brutal scars that make her heart skip. What little clothes he does wear are worn, even the buckles on his jacket are rusted and chipped from clicking together over so many years. His eyes, ruby red and exhausted , dart around for danger even as he listens to Bennett ramble on about something.
When those eyes meet hers, lingering for a few moments before slipping away again, Fischl feels like he’s neither wolf nor human.
She hopes Bennett knows what he’s doing.
“Hey!” Bennett’s face lights up and he reaches out, taking one of her hands and one of Razor’s, “why don’t we go to the Thousand Winds Temple! Razor and I can show you where we got locked up together!”
Razor grumbles something about almost starving under his breath before shaking himself, “not bad plan. Will come with.”
“If you desire to chart a path towards this destination then I will gladly accompany you,” Fischl squeezes his hand, “however I must insist that you refrain from repeating your entrapment in this place.”
Bennett laughs, a sound that coaxes smiles from his partners, “no promises!”
-
Later that night, when Fischl is curled up with her head on Bennett’s chest, she broaches an idea that had been brewing in her mind, “do you think Razor would understand if I read the books to him?”
Bennett’s soft sigh stirs her hair. He’s statue still in her arms as he usually is, afraid that any small movement might set into motion a series of events that will ruin the moment. Try as she might to create a space where Bennett felt safe from his own cursed luck, she knows he’ll never let go of the fear that his existence might hurt her.
“You could try?” He sighs again, fingers stirring into motion to tap down her spine, “I don’t know if it will help but also don’t think it will hurt.”
“The Adventurers Guild hasn’t given me any assignments… maybe I’ll gather the tomes together up and go find him tomorrow to see,” Fischl brushes her bangs from her face, feeling the faint line that her eyepatch had left across her forehead. She was used to wearing it now, but it was still a relief at night when she could take it off and give her skin a break. After a full day of trekking around the Stormbearer mountains, the leather had started to chafe from sweat.
“I would offer to come with you but Cyrus asked me to check out that ruin and my dads seemed excited that I was getting missions from him,” Bennett’s fingers still again, and Fischl frowns.
She pulls away from him just enough that she can make him meet her gaze, “You’ll be careful, right?”
He smiles wide, “of course! I’m always careful! I promise I’ll be fine, my dear Prinzessin.” Bennett takes her face in his hands and kisses a line up her nose to the plane of her forehead, holding her like he was cradling a baby bird. He goes to move back but Fischl pushes herself forward and captures his lips before he gets too far. She sinks into his embrace, committing it to the deepest, safest part of her memory as she always did with Bennett, fearing the day that his bad luck took an even worse turn. It’s a morbid thought that stings in her mind, but it comes to her unbidden at the idea that Bennett will be going off on his own.
When they part, Fischl rolls over and turns the lights out, plunging them into comfortable darkness. She would love to spend all night kissing her boyfriend, but in the morning she had a mission to build a bridge with his other partner.