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“I got some berries today.”
Arcade stopped in his tracks, having taken just a few steps towards the exit of the cave. He turned to look at Fern, who was sitting on their hammock with their eyes down, more focused on their own feet than the boy they had spoken to. Their investigation had finished for the day, with still no relevant information whatsoever that could help them break Fern’s curse, so Arcade was already taking his leave. Fern adding something else to stop him was… new, to say the least.
“You did?” Arcade replied, trying to drown the excitement in his voice. Considering how reserved Fern was sometimes, it made him very happy that the fairy had said something, anything at all, to carry on with a conversation before Arcade departed. “That’s cool! I don’t know much about the berries around here, but I think you do. You probably eat them all the time.”
Fern didn’t answer immediately, and Arcade felt a nervous tingle go up his back. Trying to go through Fern’s walls was a hard task by itself, but he was doing his very best. He wanted to know more about the fairy realm, and most importantly, he wanted to get to know Fern. At least he had managed to make them laugh (with Noxie’s help, though he liked to think he had made most of the job), so their relationship was crawling away from the edge of damnation.
Woo-hoo. Arcade labeled that as a success.
“Yeah,” Fern finally answered, looking in Arcade’s direction. They stayed silent for another two or three seconds, trying to organize the words inside their head. They were not very good with… friends, or whatever. But if they had gotten through the effort of decorating the cave already, they couldn’t back off now. “These are my favorite ones. I like how sweet they are.”
“That’s cool,” Arcade repeated, not quite sure where the conversation was going. Fern couldn’t help but wonder why Arcade had to be so dense sometimes. “My mom knows how to cook pies with any type of fruit. Maybe, if she visits soon, I can bring you a slice!”
Things weren’t exactly going as Fern was expecting them to. They wanted so bad to make Arcade understand they were trying to offer some berries to him, to share with him… but that was something they had never asked before. As a prince, they were usually granted everything very fast. This was Fern’s attempt to make progress without openly admitting they looked forward to Arcade’s company.
Fern stood up from the hammock and walked towards the little wooden table they had on the other side of the cave. Due to a lack of better instructions, Arcade followed suit. Fern’s cloak was placed on top of the table, and they lifted it in the air with one hand, rummaging inside the pockets with the other. They had gotten the berries earlier that afternoon, but Arcade arrived before they could stack them up.
“I think this may be the best berries ever,” Fern insisted. Maybe he didn’t need to directly tell Arcade that he was willing to give him some. Maybe, if he put enough emphasis on how amazing they were, Arcade would ask to try them himself. “I think anyone would enjoy them. They are delicious.”
“Oh.” When Arcade finally understood what Fern was trying to do, he smiled. Fern had fished the berries out of the cloak, and they had their ears down in concentration while staring at them. Arcade brought a hand to his neck. “Heh, I see. Do you think I could have some?”
Victory.
“Yeah,” Fern answered, stretching out his palm. “Here.”
“Thank you!” Arcade exclaimed, approaching Fern until he was able to have a clear view of the fruits. Carefully, he took one and popped it inside his mouth, the first explosion of flavor very acid on his tongue, but being almost immediately appeased by a wave of sweetness. Fern smirked when Arcade took another one, and a third one, and their factions became slightly softer the more they looked at Arcade.
“I knew you would like them,” Fern said. His voice was just a step away from being smug, but there was something soothing at the edges, so it sounded more like satisfaction. As if, instead of being proud of himself, he was okay with making someone else happy.
“I can see why you love them,” Arcade agreed before taking the fourth berry.
His smile remained even while chewing, and Fern’s eyes couldn’t stop staring at him. They hadn’t been able to comprehend Arcade’s nature quite yet. How could he be happy even with the smallest of things? When everything around him looked gloom and dark, how could he be as radiant as the sun? It didn’t make sense. Was there actually a force that powerful out there that Fern didn’t know about?
“By the way,” Arcade mumbled, mindlessly grabbing another fruit. Fern hadn’t told him to stop quite yet, seemingly distracted, with their wings relaxed. Arcade didn’t know how long that would last, so he was seizing his opportunity to eat as many berries as possible. “What happened to your cloak?”
Fern returned back to reality as fast as if someone had slapped them. They retreated their hand with the berries in a quick movement that startled Arcade, and he pouted when the fruits weren’t within reach anymore. Fern turned to the cloak, still holding it with their other hand, and lifted it into the air. Their fingers gripped it with such force that Arcade imagined their knuckles, if visible, would be white.
“What?” Fern said when they spotted what Arcade was talking about. The fabric of the cloak was torn below the right pocket, the edges of the cut full of frayed threads that made Fern’s heart skip a beat. It was at least five or six inches long. Their head started to spin, their ears and wings going up in a defensive stance. “What?”
Arcade seemed confused upon their reaction, but Fern couldn’t expect more from a human that would never understand. That cloak was one of the few things that Fern still considered decent enough. It helped him cover their deteriorated wings and the green hair he hated. It helped him pretend, even if not completely, that he could still be looked at without aversion. Fern had managed to keep it in one piece for almost a year now, and what frustrated them more was knowing that they could fix it, so damn easy, if only they were back home.
“Uh…” Arcade mumbled, their voice grounding Fern a little. “Are you okay?”
“I am,” Fern almost snapped, dropping their hand, but not letting the cloak go. Arcade stared at the ripped fabric with curiosity. However, he lost sight of it when the fairy recovered themselves and threw the torn piece of clothing on the table again. “Hey, it’s getting dark. We don’t want you to get lost in the forest again.”
So Arcade left, with little to no resistance, which Fern was grateful for. He waved goodbye with his shining smile that somehow made them feel a little better, and disappeared into the forest, not before reassuring them he’d be back the next afternoon. Fern stood there, looking at the cloak’s big cut probably caused by the thorns of the bush he had hidden on earlier.
Fern had a wide knowledge of sewing and needlework, due to textiles being the moth fairies’ biggest industry, and he had been taught their arts since he was a child. All that was proving to be ridiculously useless without the necessary tools on their side. Realistically, he had no way of fixing it.
“Stupid curse,” Fern murmured, turning around and throwing himself on his hammock. Just another thing ruined, another thing he could not save.
Fern stayed grumpy most of that night and the next day, trying to conjure Arcade’s glow every now and again to feel better, but with limited success. They were getting pissed off at the fact that Arcade could make everything look okay with no effort, and that Fern themselves were starting to be depending on that comfort. They didn’t want to depend on anyone ever again.
Fern tried to explore the forest for something that could help them, but gave up almost immediately because there was nothing in that godforsaken place that worked as sewing materials. All twigs he found were either too thick or too fragile or not sharp enough. The vines were not flexible, so they would never replace a thread.
The whole situation angered him to no end, for the damaged cloak made him feel useless, and exposed, and weak. And Fern was tired of feeling weak. He had felt weak for enough time of his life already.
When Arcade arrived to visit, hours later, he entered the cave cheerfully, displaying that bright smile on his face. Their attitudes crashed immediately: Arcade, all shiny and happy; Fern, splayed out on their hammock, having barely moved all day. They were still mourning. They knew it was a matter of time for them to get over it, just… not quite yet.
“Fern!” Arcade exclaimed, rushing inside the cave. Fern made a tired sound from their position, not raising their head, but Arcade didn’t seem bothered by it. He ran towards the wooden table where the cloak was still placed and snatched it from there. The speed he was using for everything so suddenly caught Fern’s attention.
“What are you doing?”
“My mom gave me this. I never really used it, but I believe it can help us so you are not sad anymore,” Arcade replied, kneeling on the floor. He placed the cloak next to him before getting his bag off his shoulders with frantic movements. Fern felt their ear twitch with something very close to annoyance and straightened themselves on the hammock.
“I’m not sad!” Fern exclaimed, but Arcade wasn’t buying it. Something was definitely going on, and it had to do with the torn cloak, so even if Arcade didn’t understand what it was, he was willing to help. He hadn’t been able to find anything on the curse yet, but he would take any other chance he could to do something for Fern.
“Either way, I think I know how to fix it,” Arcade answered, still focused on opening his bag. He got a little metal box out of it.
Fern was interested now. They accommodated themselves on the hammock, leaning forward to try and see better what their friend was doing. “You do?” they asked, skeptical.
However, their whole demeanor changed when Arcade opened the container, revealing a little sewing kit. Granted, it was not as luxurious and well-kept as the ones he was used to seeing back in the palace, and Arcade’s was smaller, but it was still a sewing kit. With a pair of scissors, and a bunch of needles, and thread rolls (of limited colors). It even had a threader, and a seam ripper…
The vision made Fern’s ears perk up, memories starting to flood their mind within seconds. The kit was so awfully familiar that it hurt, yet the edges and details were different in a way they could barely identify. It was a similar feeling to when they saw their cursed reflection for the first time; a distorted sight of something they knew like the palm of their hand.
Fern had hated that.
But they didn’t hate this. It wasn’t that disgusting feeling all over again. It was just slightly disorienting, but still thrilling, and almost nostalgic.
Arcade took the cloak from the ground next to him and spread it out on his leg, trying to have a good visual of the frayed cut. And then, gradually, the sensation inside Fern's chest turned warmer.
Arcade was intending to fix it.
“I do. My mom taught me,” Arcade murmured, answering Fern’s previous question. However, his fingers were hesitant over the variety of tools inside the kit, not recognizing half of them. At least he knew how to sew, and that was good enough. “I haven’t done it since I moved to the dorms, though. But it is not that hard!”
“Not that hard?” Fern repeated, almost incredulously. Arcade wasn’t looking their way, but they still rolled their eyes with fake exasperation. “Needlework is an art, and I was quite good at it. Being able to embroider your signature in a piece of clothing requires patience, ability…”
“I got this,” Arcade mumbled, frowning. He might not be the best sewer out there, but he had repaired cuts from his clothes before. He hadn't done it recently because he was careful with his school uniform, but he could do it anyways!
He took one of the needles from the box, as well as a brown-ish thread, and raised both of them up to his eyes. With zero technique whatsoever, he attempted to thread the strand through the eye of the needle, and Fern couldn’t help but notice all of Arcade’s sewing mistakes. They shook their head and waited patiently for a few seconds. However, Arcade kept struggling with his own fingers, and Fern snorted.
“If you do it like that, then I can see why you think it’s easy.”
“I got this!” Arcade repeated, looking back to the sewing kit for something that helped him look less like a fool. However, no matter how pretty the pins looked, those weren’t going to be of use. And he was sure as hell that the tiny silver basket was not an effective solution to thread a needle.
Fern puffed and stood up from the hammock before sitting down next to Arcade. Having noticed the presence of a threader-like object before, they stretched out their hand to take it, Arcade’s eyes following the movement. “Let me help you,” Fern said, and Arcade hesitated just barely before giving them both the needle and thread roll he had been fighting with.
Fern examined the sewing tool for a second, catching up on the differences it had with the moth fairy ones, but in essence, they were quite the same. With deft movements, they put the wire of the threader through the needle’s eye, and Arcade’s eyes widened in amazement. That looked like a weird-shaped coin or a bottle opener to him. Fern looped the strand through the whole thing, pulled the threader out again, and suddenly, the needle was threaded.
“Oh,” Arcade mumbled, trying not to show the disappointment on his face. Of course, Fern knew how to do that stuff. Fern was amazing. Arcade was hoping to show both the prince and destiny that he was trying his best, even if the results were not going as any of them would like them to. He was kind of failing.
However, he had to be doing something to Fern, because their actions were not normal. In normal circumstances, Fern would’ve just taken the cloak out of Arcade’s lap to fix it themselves. They would’ve finished the job within minutes, making it look pristine even with their limited human resources, feeling like they had something nice to hang on to again. Fern was sure of it.
That didn’t happen.
If someone were to ask them why, they wouldn't be able to answer. Maybe it was Arcade’s expression, one step away from dejection, when a few minutes ago he had been so happy. Maybe it was the fact that Arcade had not only noticed Fern being upset about the frayed cloak, but also cared about it. Maybe it was how Arcade was trying so hard to fix it, even while being aware of his own limitations.
The whole situation was so endearing it was almost ridiculous.
“Here,” Fern said, catching Arcade’s attention again. His face brightened when Fern returned the threaded needle to him before getting more comfortable in their place on the ground. Arcade’s heart started to go a little bit faster, too, when Fern smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure you got it from here.”
It was odd. Fern would’ve never done any of that a year ago. Heck, not even a month ago. But Arcade’s shiny eyes and determined movements, the way his whole posture dripped confidence and seemed to shout ‘you can count on me!’... Fern’s elbow rested on Arcade’s shoulder while they looked at him, his technique mistakes not bothering them anymore, everything inside their mind focusing on Arcade’s voice and Arcade’s fingers and Arcade, Arcade…
Halfway through the sewing, Arcade realized it wasn't looking as terrible as he had been expecting it to, and the brown-ish thread kind of matched the cloak’s fabric. “I think I’m making my mom proud,” Arcade said in a joking tone.
The light inside the cave was almost not enough for him to see the needle correctly, so he had to be really focused on his task to not hurt himself. However, he risked taking a stitch on his fingertips when he turned his gaze towards Fern, who had started laughing. It was a beautiful sight; their eyes closed with a slight blush decorating their cheeks, as if they weren’t used to smiling that wide.
It proved that Fern was always worth the risk.
Neither of them was sure of how long it took for Arcade to finish up, but they didn’t care anyway. Fern explained to him that moth fairies were taught needlework from a young age, and how he was expected to do well considering he was part of the royal family. Arcade told them that he tore his pants a lot when he was little, because he had a tendency of tripping on his shoelaces. And everything was comfortable, and warm, and how a home should feel like.
They stayed close to each other, sitting on the floor even after Arcade made the final stitch. The result was a brown line that resembled a scar, nothing compared to what Fern was used to seeing back in Frenatae, but they didn’t mind. They took the cloak and lifted it in the air, examining it with a smile on their lips. Arcade had made that, for them of all people. Just because he wanted to.
Arcade admired Fern’s content face for a second before his eyes drifted to the entrance of the cave, where the sun was setting down. “It’s getting dark. Maybe I should go,” he mentioned, making Fern look at him. Arcade didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t know if it was safe to assume that Fern wanted to spend this much time with him. He took a hand to his neck, nervous all of a sudden. “I don’t want to get lost again, and I don’t think you’ll be willing to guide me back this time?”
Fern blinked at him, and Arcade realized what had left his mouth. Before he could take back his words, though, Fern stood up, still with the cloak in their hands. Arcade followed the movement, putting his bag on his shoulders, and waited.
When Fern stared at the sewing again, they smiled. They decided to admit, at least to themselves, that they enjoyed Arcade’s company to an extent.
“It’ll get cold on our way there,” Fern stated, putting the cloak on and walking to the exit. Arcade’s face started to glow. Our. But he only took one or two steps before Fern stopped in their tracks, turning back at him. They looked almost anxious. “I… uh…”
Arcade stayed silent while Fern fidgeted with the hem of their newly fixed piece of clothing. Fern thought about asking him to leave the sewing kit so they could tidy up his work a little. However, the idea disappeared as fast as it had arrived, and instead, Fern said:
“Thank you… For helping me. And... for trying to fix… everything.”
The sensation that exploded within Arcade’s chest was so overwhelming that he couldn’t even recognize what it was. Happiness, and joy, and just a general gratitude towards the universe for letting him exist there and then, with Fern. Besides, he was sure that they didn’t mean only the sewing ordeal. They meant all the books and all the visits, and all his efforts to break the curse. It meant that Fern was noticing him.
Arcade approached them until he could place a hand on Fern’s shoulder, the fairy's eyes sparkling immediately. “Anytime, Fern," he said, dedicating them his brightest smile. "We’re in this together now!”
“Yeah,” Fern murmured, feeling light for the first time in forever. “Together.”