Archive of Our Own

~>Present One<~

A pleasant chime echoes through the cluttered store as Martyn walks inside, brushing his muddy boots off against the welcome mat. The clerk behind the counter perks up at the sound of the chime, furry ears pricking up visibly. “Hey dude! Welcome, welcome, to Renchanting, home of the finest enchanted goods and trinkets made by yours truly, Ren Diggity Dog! Need anything, I’m your guy!”

Renchanting, right. The name of the shop had been what caught Martyn’s eye and convinced him to go inside. It wasn’t his normal magic shop — a bit out of the way from his house and every other major part of the city if he was being honest — but the name had pulled at something inside him and he had to check it out. Plus, he was running low on potions and most magic shops kept at least a few around for adventurers to purchase.

“I’m looking for potions, either lesser or greater work.” Martyn tells the clerk, eyes still scanning the store around him. It truly is an enchanting shop, obvious both in decor and in the truly impressive range of probably handcrafted magic items, if the clerk - Ren, his brain supplies - is being truthful.

Ren nods rapidly and steps from behind the counter. “Potions, right right. I keep them over this-a-way.” He gestures towards the back of the shop, somewhere hidden behind shelves of spell books and what looked to be enchanted toys.

“Ok.” Martyn follows him as he leads the way. Ren slows down so Martyn can catch up and then they’re walking together, Martyn just a step behind Ren. It’s not something he normally does, Martyn prefers to walk either directly alongside a person or a few paces behind them but, for some odd reason, he doesn’t do that with Ren.

“I’m guessing you’re an adventurer if you’re in need of potions. Or a traveler, but they normally ask for stuff to get away from beasties rather than stuff to fix them up after they mess with the claws.” Ren looks down at him. Martyn hadn’t realized Ren was taller than him. If Martyn could see behind Ren’s black-tinted glasses, he’d guess there’d be some curious twinkling in his eyes. Ren seems like an eye-twinkle kind of guy.

“Yep. Adventurer for hire. Mostly it means I take jobs for killing monsters or escorting people. Not a lot of actual adventuring into the wilderness.” Martyn shrugs nonchalantly. The name was misleading but the job was good. He makes a good amount of coin from sniping monsters that others use for parts.

“Had any good hunts recently?” Ren asks, again. Martyn really hadn’t expected this dude to be so chatty. Or this shop to be so big. How long did it take to walk to the potion section, seriously?

“A few.” Martyn isn’t planning to elaborate but then Ren looks at him again and he keeps going. Did he just get puppy-dog-eyed from behind sunglasses? “There was this rogue wyvern a few days ago. Some rich fool brought a wild hatchling down from the mountain and tried to train it to be a pet. Backfired greatly when the thing grew up and tried to take his head off. That thing had a major bite to it, plus an icy breath attack that nearly dropped me a few times,” Being a dryad facing against an Ice Wyvern was not a good matchup. “Still, I took it down but my potion supply was all gone by the end. That’s why I’m here now.” The rich fool’s gold is going to be put to good use getting Martyn’s supply back up and then the extra’s going towards a nice dinner. He deserves it.

“That’s sick dude!” Ren exclaims. “Wyverns are tough cookies. I’ve heard tales of them taking off people’s whole arms before. And yet you got away with all your limbs! Impressive.”

Martyn feels like blushing, which is very weird because being half-tree he doesn’t really blush all too often. But this shopkeep, with his honest compliments and earnest way of speaking, made Martyn just a bit flustered.

So he just doesn't say anymore. He wouldn’t know what to say that wouldn’t just be him putting his foot in his mouth. He does nod at Ren, it would be rude to not acknowledge the compliment.

They’re still walking. Martyn swears that they’ve passed the same item rack before.

“You know,” Ren starts talking again, adopting a more professional, business-like tone. “Adventurer types like you are always stopping by to get my potions but I’m an enchanting shop, not a potioner! It’s in the name, Renchanting. I have so much cool stuff for adventurers that no one ever buys. Like this net!” Ren stops to point at a net hanging off the wall. “Magically enchanted to electrocute your target when you say the command word. Can stun creatures as big as owl bears or even manticores! Bet it would have been super helpful for grounding that rogue wyvern of yours. And yet, all the adventurers ask about is my potions.” He shakes his head sadly.

“Uh huh.” Martyn hadn’t really planned on buying anything more than potions today, even if that net was kinda sweet.

“But maybe nets aren’t your style, which is fair, so maybe this ethereal spear is more your type? But no…” Ren trails off.

“Not really a spear person.” Martyn crosses his arms.

Ren hums. “No no, you’re not.” He snaps his finger. “Got it! I can see it clearly now, you’re a ranged kind-a-guy. Prefer to snipe from far away, catch them in their back when they try to run from you, yeah?”

Martyn tilts his head. That is his preferred fighting style, though most wouldn’t assume that. People think spears then they think axes and then swords or magic, but no one assumes Martyn uses a bow. Not really a dryad thing, he’s been told. Well it’s a Martyn thing and he’s always a little bit mad about it. Yes, he uses a sword or axe for melee if needed but the bow will always be his favorite weapon.

But Ren, Ren just knew. Maybe he saw the specialty gloves over Martyn’s hands, the kind that lets him shoot easily and also protects his hands. Maybe it's the way he stands or the way he watches the world or something else entirely. Maybe Ren just knows these things. Maybe Ren just knows Martyn.

But that last one couldn’t be, Martyn hadn’t met Ren till today.

So why does it make the most sense to him?

Martyn tunes back in as Ren is in the middle of explaining the enchantment of this nifty bow he made. Apparently it will always catch the enemy in their weakest part, no matter where you aimed it at. Well, obviously it had limits, you can’t aim at a tree and expect it to hit a fleeing monster, but you don’t have to hold and aim quite so much. This intrigued Martyn, he’d never been good at aiming, preferring quantity over quality of his shots.

“Are you saying that I’m a bad aim?” Martyn raises an eyebrow. Ren gasps and pust a hand over his heart.

“What?! Of course not! I would never” Ren exclaims. “Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a scribing knife in my eye! I am just an honest salesperson, trying to help a customer find the perfect weapon.” He makes a face that probably is supposed to look trustworthy, but to Martyn it just looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Right, right. I believe you.” Martyn says playfully. Once again, he thinks he can almost see the twinkle in Ren’s eye behind the glasses. The tilt of his head and the twist of his mouth let Martyn know that Ren’s being a bit more dramatic than needed. Also, his tail’s wagging.

In the end, Martyn does end up buying the bow along with his potions. Ren cut him a deal, an apology for dragging him the long-way round the shop.

“It’s true what I said about adventurers only going after my potions. Gotta sell my other stuff somehow.” Ren shrugs apologetically as he bags Martyn’s goods.

“Nah I get it. Just how business works.” Martyn counts out his coins. “But a discount? Not really the best practice for a struggling store owner.’

“Happy customers come back, and you, my friend, look like a happy customer.” Ren leans against the counter, a sly smile on his face.

Martyn chuckles. “Well, I suppose I am.”

Ren beams.

As he leaves, Martyn makes a mental note to remember this place. With a name like Renchanting, it won’t be too hard.

~>Past Three<~

They hadn’t won the event, but that’s fine. Ren had a good time playing with Falsey and Illumina and Martyn. Falsey was his friend from hermitcraft and they’d been teaming up together ever since the early days of MCC. Illumina and Martyn were new to their team. Illumina Ren knew from the leaderboards, he was a good player and ranked high in most events.

Martyn, however, is a different story.

Grian had talked about playing with him before, in the event where Grian beat his own bet and got a lordship title as a reward. Martyn would also be a lord, Ren assumes, he’s certainly noble enough for it.

Martyn was a great player on their team, communicating well and making sure the rest of the team was prepared. Ren had a lot of fun playing with him but now it was over.

Ren and the rest of the Purple Pandas were still hanging out in the lobby. Ren thinks they’re the last full team still here. They’d been checking their scores and then just hanging out. The grassy patch near the food truck was big enough for all of them. Ren is laying on his back, watching the clouds drift across the sky as his teammates chatter on about their wins and losses.

“-I still think we did quite well on the pvp side of things.” False says, plucking blades of grass and messing with them.

“Yeah, we all got some kills, but movement and communication was where we shone.” Martyn’s talking now. Ren meets his eyes past his purple-tinted glasses - specialty made for the event - and Martyn looks back. “Especially you, M’lord. Excellent work there.” His voice changes, becoming more dramatic and performative

“Thank ye, me hand.” Ren responds in an obviously fake Scottish accent. He doesn’t know why he knew Martyn was teasing him or why used that accent or why he called Martyn his hand but it made sense in the moment.

“Wait, you guys already have inside jokes? I thought you just met today.” False furrows her brow in confusion. In her defense, she’s right. They did only meet today.

“Yeah, you guys were calling each other “My Lord” and “My Hand” throughout the event today.” Illumina chimes in.

Oh. Ren hadn’t even realized he’d done it more than once. Makes sense, it feels so natural to say. But explaining that, well, Ren doesn’t think he could.

In the end, Martyn beats him to it. “Just felt right to say, that’s all.”

He’s looking at Ren now and even though they did only meet today, Ren can read him perfectly. He’s confused just like Ren, he hadn’t realized this had been happening. He’s wary of Ren specifically, as if Ren knows what’s going on more than he does. And he’s scared, because if this has happened more than once without him knowing then what does it all mean??

Ren doesn’t know what it all means. He doesn’t.

So he turns back to the others and just shrugs. “What Martyn said felt right. Plus, it's fun giving nicknames to people. Don’t yall give nicknames to your friends?” He diverts the question back to them.

It works. Illumina takes the bait, talking about his friends in the speedrunner community and the names they call each other. Falsey knows him well enough to know that it’s a diversion but she doesn’t call him out. When they get back to Hermitcraft she probably will but for now she leaves it be. Martyn, who shouldn’t know Ren well enough to know it was a diversion yet somehow does, is still looking at him.

When Ren looks over, he looks away.

They don’t talk after that, even when all four of them head to the MCC Afterparty Noxcrew hosts. It’s too awkward, Ren thinks, or too scary. Humanity fears the unknown and even though he’s just as much dog as he is human, he can understand that.

He doesn’t think Martyn’s human but he knows he understands that.

So they leave MCC without saying another word to each other. Just a few more one-sided glances.

~>Present Two<~

You get a lot of weird looks when you walk through town with a sopping bag of monster parts over your shoulder. Being covered in blood - even if it's not your own blood - doesn’t help. But Martyn’s doing a job and weird looks mean nothing compared to the prospect of getting paid.

The flyer on the job-board said two pounds of manticore needles. Martyn hadn’t realized how much two pounds of manticore needless actually was until he had to hunt down the creatures. The gold better be worth it, this job took him all day.

He shifts the sack on her shoulder - careful not to jab any needles into his back - and pulls out the flyer again. The address for the handoff wasn’t a normal city address, instead it was a series of instructions leading from the job board to the handoff point.

Instructions that are telling him to walk off the main road and into this shady alleyway.

Because nothing in Martyn’s life could ever be simple, apparently.

Martyn sighed and rubbed his face with the back of his hand. Hopefully this wasn’t some elaborate trap to get Martyn to work so hard gathering all these needles only for him to get mugged and killed in the back of an alley. If it was, Martyn would definitely come back as a ghost to haunt whoever killed him. Maybe he’d even get lucky and be able to manipulate the world just enough to stab the mugger with their own stolen needles. That would be nice.

But first, in order to see if he’s actually going to die here, he needs to walk into the alleyway.

Because he is not turning around now.

The alleyway isn’t the worst alley he’s been in, it’s actually quite spacious. There’s potted plants next to backdoors for shops and residential buildings. A few horribly placed windows have banners or drying laundry hanging off them. Martyn even spots a plump housecat lounging on a ledge.

All and all, not the worst place to get mugged. If he does get mugged, that is.

Martyn checks the directions again. It says the building with the stairs leading up to the second floor. He looks around. Only one building has stairs going up to another story. He checks the flyer again. It doesn’t say if he’s supposed to knock or just leave the bag.

Martyn decides to knock. Better chance of getting paid right away.

There’s a muffled screech from inside, like someone pushed a chair against tile floor too fast. Then a muffled exclamation that is probably “Just a minute”

It also sounds very familiar.

And just as he thinks that, the door is opened.

By Ren.

Ren’s eyes go wide. “Dude what happened? Are you ok?” He reaches a hand out, as if to help Martyn or maybe just to touch him, but then he pulls it back, clasping it with his other hand.

Martyn remembers the copious amount of manticore blood he’s covered in.

“Not my blood. I just spent the whole day hunting down a whole pack of manticores and then plucking the needles off them so please, tell me if you ordered two pounds of manticore needles or else I think I just got scammed.” Martyn lifts the bag to show him.

Ren looks relieved. “Oh yes, those are mine. Wow, you are much faster than expected.” Ren says, shifting on his toes a bit. “I’ll go get your coins, my dude, just hang tight for a mo’”

And he’s gone, leaving Martyn still holding the bag of manticore needles. Martyn contemplates dropping the bag on the ground - his arms are very sore - but that might break them and Martyn wants to get paid today. Also Ren would be upset and no one wants that.

“Why do you need so many manticore needles?” Martyn asks when Ren comes back holding his coin purse.

“I run an enchanting shop, dude. You need the needles to scribe runes onto the items. Normal needles don’t work as well, too breakable and non conductive for magic.”

So there goes Martyn’s worry about them being fragile. He’s still not going to drop them.

“Huh, ok. That’s neat.” And makes sense. He assumes the innate magic of the manticores would help conduct magic into the runes better than any iron needle, if his magic theory is correct, which it may not be.

Ren’s ears droop almost minisculely. “You can just say it’s boring magic stuff, I know.”

Martyn puts his hands- well, his one free hand - up reassuringly. “No, it's actually neat. I didn’t know any of that. Any magic stuff I know is active spellcasting. Buffs and curses and attacks, you know.”

“The flashy stuff.” Red nods but he doesn’t look any happier. Damn it Martyn. “Know that all too well, my friend. Well, this dog doesn’t have any of that magic but I can make your boots hover with the right runes, so I think I’m just as cool.” He lifts his he’d proudly, almost defensively, as if daring Martyn to say otherwise.

Martyn knows that passive magic isn’t as sought after by most people but he also knows its some of the most useful magic out there. Ren’s obviously had to deal with his own fair share of ungrateful and rude people, which he doesn’t deserve. Ren’s magic is cool, and most importantly, useful. “I know your magic’s cool. It’s probably saved my life on a day to day basis. Don’t think I don’t know how many times a potion of yours has stopped me from passing out. Or the enchanted bow you made has hit its mark before the mark can hit me. Or-“

“Stop, stop, it's too much!” Ren’s face is pretty flushed now. “I get it, I get it!” He exclaims.

Martyn smirks. “Good. Wouldn’t want the best enchanter closing shop because he thought I called his magic uncool. Where would I get my potions then?”

“The potionier two blocks down?” Ren tilts his head playfully. “I still don’t know why you buy them from me, mine are subpar at best.”

“I’m supporting local businesses.” Martyn shrugs. Ren laughs outright, a loud barking laugh.

Martyn feels satisfied, then he remembers what he came here for. He pushes the bag of needles towards Ren. “Your order, before I get too distracted and forget to deliver it.”

Ren takes the bag and sets it inside. “Then I better count out your dues before I also get distracted. How much again.”

“Twenty gold shells. Or two hundred silver eagles. I also accept mixed payment.” Martyn recites.

“Twenty shells, twenty shells…” Ren muses as he counts out the coins. “How much do you want to bet that I’m paying you with coins you gave me?”

“Nothing, because I know I’m one of your most frequent customers.” Martyn deadpans. “In fact, I might even recognize a few of them.”

“Like this silver eagle?” Ren holds up the coin in question.

“Yep, I’d know that dent in the rim anywhere.” Martyn says sagely.

Ren looks impressed. “Really?”

Martyn laughs and punches Ren’s shoulder teasingly. “No, I'm just messing with you. It worked though.”

“It did! You got me good dude.” Ren grins a toothy grin.

Ren counts out the coins and passes them over. Martyn puts them away carefully, you never know who could be watching you. He takes a step back away from the door before he realizes something.

“Is your house above the shop?” He asks. Renchanting was two stories, he had just never thought about what the second story was.

Ren nods. “Yup! Only pay rent once and my commute’s a breeze. Just walk down the stairs and unlock the back door and boom baby! Renchanting is open for business!”

“That is efficient.” Martyn’s house was a little apartment a few blocks from here. The entire building was apartments, even the bottom floor and basement. Lucky for him, he’d helped out the landlady with a job and she remembered him, so Martyn was living on the second floor and not stuck in the basement like some of his neighbors. Poor Jimmy.

“Mh-hm.” Ren hums. Martyn realizes that they’d both been chatting for a while now and the sun was getting low. Ren also noticed the time.

“Shoot, I didn’t mean to leave you standing around here for so long dude, sorry.” Ren’s ears and tail droop sadly.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I like talking to you.” Wait, that was too vulnerable. Bring it back Martyn. “I also like getting paid.” Saved it.

From the soft look on Ren’s face, he probably didn’t. Still, Martyn doesn’t find that he minds too much. He can be vulnerable around Ren just this once, as a treat.

But he also quickly says goodbye and shuffles off, because unplanned vulnerability is still terrifying.

Nice, but also terrifying.

~>Past Four<~

Ren’s hands are still shaking. There’s smoke in his lungs and he can taste it. His watchtower is still smoldering behind him, from where he set but on fire. Why did he do that again? He can’t quite recall.

Martyn’s still here, even though he doesn’t have a good reason to be. Etho left a while ago, it’s just the two of them. Ren’s fine, really he is. It would be easier to prove that if he could get his hands to stay still.

He clasps them behind his back, out of Martyn’s sight. The other man is looking at him with a strange expression and Ren doesn’t know what he’s picking up.

He remembers the way Martyn had screamed his name, had some rushing through the woods to climb the tower and save him. He doesn’t even know the guy that well, they’d just met at the circle with the others and then done a trade later. There’s no reason for Martyn to sound so distressed over Ren’s fate.

But Ren can see that Martyn is shaken up as well, though he tries to hide it. Ren thinks his hands are shaking as well.

Martyn must be a very empathetic man, to be so shaken up over someone he doesn’t know.

“You alright?” Ren’s thoughts are interrupted by Martyn’s voice. Ren realizes that he’d been staring at the other man, totally spaced out.

“Sorry, just deep in thought.” Ren moves his hands in front of his body and twists them anxiously. Martyn’s eyes flick to them before going back to Ren’s face.. “I should probably be asking you that question. You freaked out, dude. They could probably hear your screams all the way over at the Mountain Castle.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Martyn stiffens, caught. He exhales. “I don’t know why I freaked out so much. I just saw the tower burning and knew it was you up there and something in my heart sunk.” Martyn clenches his shirt, right over his heart. He looks Ren in the eye and holds his gaze. His eyes are a deep, dark green. It suits him.

He looks away eventually, staring at the endless forest and the barely visible roofs of the Southland towers.

Ren’s shoulders bunch up and he forcibly relaxes them. “Sorry for worrying you, dude. Didn’t realize my being in danger would upset you that much.”

Martyn huffs dryly, eyes flicking back to Ren. “Neither did I” He mumbles. Ren wants to reach out, touch him, provide some kind of comfort.

So he does.

Resting a hand on Martyn’s shoulder, he hopes it conveys in meaning what he can’t figure out the words for. A gesture probably too intimate for barely acquaintances but its all he can think of. He hopes it works.

From the way Martyn leans back into it and relaxes, maybe it does.

Why did Ren know that would work? Why does this feel like an old habit, to gently reassure Martyn that everything’s alright. It’s odd but not in a bad way.

The moment can’t last forever and Martyn leaves when he’s sure Ren can handle rebuilding his tower on his own. They don’t speak for a while after that, the boogey blocker business doesn’t really go anywhere. Ren keeps his deal with Lizzie and the Shadow Fairies, giving them his sword and his lives, and Martyn goes with the Southlands and stays loyal for a time.

But he always comes back to Ren, even if its only to talk about his lady The Moon or make some trades.

Later in the game, when the Shadow Alliance is formed by Martyn, rambling about his lady and her grace, Ren wonders why he trusts Martyn so much. He shouldn’t be sitting in this secret base, wearing his garbs, letting this man bestow upon him a name, but he does. It feels right to listen and to follow him for once.

They both make it to the final four, the final fight. In the chaos, Ren brings his axe down on Martyn’s head and is strangely relieved when he dodges and runs away. Maybe he understands why Martyn was so scared for him, back on that tower, but it’s too late now.

There’s no time to think about anything but the fight

One way or another, this ends now.

~>Present Three<~

Martyn starts looking forward to coming back from hunts and visiting Renchanting. It’s not because it’s a genuinely good magic shop — though it is, Ren’s a master of his craft — or because it’s cheaper than the alternatives — Ren had to hike up his prices a few weeks ago to make up for the lack of demand and yet Martyn still pays them. No, it’s because of Ren himself. He’s good company, nice and funny and witty and Martyn just enjoys being around him.

Also his voice is very nice to listen to. That’s a bonus.

Martyn starts paying more close attention to job requests, in case any of them are from Ren again. It’s a good excuse to see him when he doesn’t need to buy anything. He thinks about asking Ren to meet outside of a business standpoint, maybe to go out for lunch, but he always chickens out. He doesn’t want Ren to think it’s a date, just a hangout between two bros.

But whenever Martyn tries to imagine what this so-called hangout will be like, it always ends up looking too much like a date. Martyn’s brain just keeps defaulting to romantic picnics and candlelit dinners.

So instead of asking Ren and messing it up, Martyn just resorts to going to Renchanting more often. Maybe Ren will do the hard thing and ask him out instead?

But not on a date, no no no. On a bro hangout!

Though if Ren did ask him out on a date he’d probably say yes…

And this train of thought is already too much for Martyn. He pushes it out of his mind and focuses instead on cataloging what he needs from Renchanting this time. As always, he’s running low on potions, but he also needs some enchanted arrows, mostly fire and ice. Ren had shown him his stock of elemental arrows a few trips ago and Martyn had bought him out. They’re very useful but unfortunately only one use. He can’t try and recycle them like he can with his normal arrows.

So restocking from Ren it is.

Renchanting is strangely empty when Martyn enters it. He can’t see Ren at the front desk but there’s humming and shuffling noises coming from somewhere, so Martyn presumes that Ren’s just in the back or deep in the shelves. He turns out to be right when Ren comes out through the saloon doors that separate the storefront from the back.

“Martyn! My favorite customer!” Ren beams at him as he sets down a box of stuff on the checkout counter. “Here to restock?”

“Of course.” Martyn steps forward to lean against the counter. “I’ve been very busy lately — you know how it is — and so I need to purchase more potions and arrows.”

“You’re just in luck, I just finished carving more of the elemental arrows this morning. They’re in the usual place.” Ren works on unpacking the box of stuff, setting miscellaneous magic items out on the counter. Martyn isn’t sure how he manages to do that while still keeping eye contact. Or well, he assumes it’s eye contact, he keeps his glasses pointed at Martyn in any case.

“I’ll be sure to pick those up before I go but first, why don’t you tell me how you’re doing?” Smalltalk isn’t really Martyn’s thing but Ren’s smalltalk is never boring. He’ll go on about stuff he’s crafted — talking in-depth about the enchantments and how he made them — or he’ll give Martyn an update on whatever crazy thing happened in town while he was gone. Martyn’s never been so in touch with the social pulse of the city before he met Ren.

“Doing swell but my life hasn’t been too interesting lately.” Ren sighs dramatically. “Normally I’d say that’s a good thing but it means I don’t have any good stories for you.”

“Not even an update on the saga of Pizza the stuffed llama?” Martyn inclined his head playfully.

“Tragically, Pizza is still missing. Or kidnapped, as Grian and Scar are claiming.” Ren shakes his head fondly. “I’ve mostly been stuck doing inventory. You can’t run a business if everything’s a mess.”

“Oh so is that what this box is for?” Martyn taps the edge of the now-empty box Ren had finished unpacking.

Ren nods. “Yep. Stuff was cluttering up in the back, extra magic items from sets no one purchased, so I had to bring them out here. I’ve got plans for them, big plans, or well, as big a plan as being put on the bargain shelf.” Ren’s smile gets brighter when Martyn chuckles at his joke. Martyn isn’t even sure why he laughed. It wasn’t that funny on its own but Ren just makes things funny. “But yeah dude, the old diggity dog’s week so far has just been sorting and moving boxes. My arms would be jelly if I hadn’t been doing this for years. Still, it’s slow work.”

“Would an extra hand speed things up?” Martyn offers before he can even think it through. Though, with the way Ren’s ears perk up, he’s sure he couldn’t take it back even if he wanted to.

“Really, are you sure? The help is most appreciated but I promise you, these boxes can be heavy. The ones with metal items make even me winded.” If Martyn didn’t know Ren better, he’s say that was a taunt. But Ren wouldn’t taunt, tease maybe but never taunt, so it's much more likely that he was actually trying to be polite and give Martyn an excuse. Well, that won’t do.

“I think I can handle it.” Martyn brings one of his arms up and flexes. Using a bow does great things for your arm strength. “I haven’t been slaying monsters for nothing.”

Ren looks appreciatively at Martyn’s arm and Martyn feels his face heat up. He coughs and tries to put his arm down as casually as he can. “So yeah, I’d be happy to help.”

“Awesome!” Ren claps his hands once excitedly. “Just follow me to the back then.” When they reach the door Ren jokes, “By the way, I’m a bit broke at the moment so I hope you don’t mind being free labor. The last job I hired you for really drained my coffers.”

“See, I wasn’t going to bring up payment but now?” Martyn quips back as Ren cackles. They both enter the back

The back of Ren’s shop is, as he said, cluttered. There’s shelves lining the walls and boxes stacked in every available space, leaving only a small pathway carved out between them so a person could walk. Ren puts Martyn to work moving boxes into neater stacks, occasionally taking them to the front to unpack. Ren also helps move things though mostly he tells Martyn what to do and catalogues the items in the boxes.

Turns out Ren also lied about his week being boring because as soon as they had gotten in the groove of working he’d started venting about one of his competitors.

“They aren’t even certified by the Magical Safety Association!“ Ren throws his hands up in frustration, which is really dangerous seeing as he’s currently climbing a later to reach a box on a higher shelf. Martyn’s been keeping a close eye on him, just in case. “All their products are a safety hazard and it’s criminal that they can just get away with it.” He growls.

“So why do people buy from them? Seems like too much of a risk to me.” Martyn leans on a stack of crates.

“Money.” Ren seethes. “They sell everything for cheap and they have good advertising. Plus they’re located in a busy part of the city while I’m a lot more backstreets. Most people don’t know that there’s better options and those that do don’t care.”

“Sounds annoying. Want me to… you know?” Martyn mimes chopping their heads off with an axe. It was supposed to be a joke, a reference to the people’s power to take down billionaires as well as his own skills, but from the way Ren’s eyes go wide Martyn knows he messed up.

“What? No!” Ren yelps loudly and leans back.. It’s much more of a heightened reaction that Martyn expects, it honestly looks like Ren’s scared of what he suggested. Martyn's eyes go wide when the ladder Ren’s standing on tips with the face of his exclamation.

Time almost seems to crawl, like being under the effect of a Slow spell, and Martyn can see the exact moment Ren realizes that he’s falling. Martyn’s already running before his mind can fully catch up, arms outstretched to catch Ren.

He doesn’t realize it worked till he’s literally hit with the weight of Ren in his arms, nearly knocking him off his feet. He takes a moment to steady himself before looking down at Ren

Ren still seems shaken, both by the attempted joke and by the averted disaster. His ears are pinned back even as he attempts to smile. “Sorry, lost my footing there. Thanks for the assist.”

“No problem.” Martyn replies automatically before he squints down at Ren. “You ok dude? You freaked out pretty bad there.”

“I’m ok, just spooked.” Martyn knows that’s a lie; he can literally feel how tense Ren is in his arms.

“You know, I wouldn’t actually decapitate your competition, no matter how awful they are.” Martyn rushes to explain. Ren chuckles breathlessly.

“I know, I know.” Ren sighs and rubs a hand against his neck. “But when you made the motion something in my brain froze up. It was like it was happening to me and for a moment I could feel it. The pain.” He shuts his eyes tight, something Martyn only knows because of the way his glasses are askew on his head.

It makes sense though. Ren’s an empathetic, feely person. “Well, I won’t make jokes like that again.” Martyn promises. Easy promise to make, he never wants Ren to look as scared as he did today.

“Oh I very much wouldn’t mind if you took action against my enemies,” Ren says dramatically, opening his eyes again, “But yeah, no more decapitation jokes.”

“Done.” Martyn replies instantly. Ren smiles up at him, gratefully before looking down at Martyn’s arms.

“You were right about all the monster slaying. I don’t think I’d be able to lift a person this long even if I did inventory every day for years.” He comments.

Martyn internally decides that Ren can never know about how much his arms are burning from effort. He also internally hopes that Ren won’t notice how flustered he is at the compliment, again.

“What can I say, my job has its benefits.” Martyn tries to shrug nonchalantly and his shoulders burn. He really hopes he can keep the pain off his face. “Want me to set you down?” He asks.

Ren thinks about it. “I don’t suppose you can help me lift boxes while still carrying me, can you?” He asks wryly.

Martyn shakes his head. “Not unless I had the telekinetic spells of a wizard and if I was a wizard I wouldn’t have been able to catch you, much less lift you at all.”

Ren nods sagely. “They do have very noodly arms.”

Martyn laughs in agreement and sets Ren back on the floor. He lets his hands rest on Ren’s back to make sure he’s balanced before he reluctantly pulls away. Ren readjusts his glasses to fit properly and Martyn mourns the loss of the pure eye contact.

The rest of inventory goes quickly, with Martyn making sure to be the one climbing the ladder from then on. In an attempt to distract Ren - and maybe himself - from the fall, Martyn regales stories of his latest hunts. Ren’s invested, asking questions and oohing and aahing at the appropriate moments. Somehow, explaining his quests to Ren makes Martyn feel more impressive. Ren’s starry-eyed over even the simplest dire rat hunt.

It isn’t until later - when Martyn’s lying on his squeaky bed in his apartment - that his brain decides to plague him with memories of catching - and then holding - Ren. The feeling of terror, of pure panic, and then worry was what he felt in the moment but in the safety of his own home he thought about the rough hair of Ren’s arm and how it scratched against his own hand, about the way Ren’s eyes looked without the glasses in the way, the way Martyn could see his fangs even better up close. His brain plagued him with thoughts of holding Ren in a different setting, one much more soft and domestic.

Martyn groaned and pulled his pillow over his face.

This was definitely taking the B out of Bromance.

~>Past One<~

Ren is so very late. He’s rushing down the street, jostling the other pedestrians in his haste. He turns around to call out a few apologies - because while Ren may be late that’s no excuse to be rude - and because of this attempt at diplomacy he doesn’t see where he’s going and crashes straight into another person at an intersection.

“Shoot!” Ren exclaims, his face muffled by the brick of the road beneath him. He stands up quickly and sees the poor target of his own folly in front of him. “I am so so sorry. Let me help you up.”

“Thanks.” The stranger - a dryad with blond hair pulled back behind a bandana and thin curving branches in their hair - says after they are pulled up by Ren. Ren then notices that they dropped a lot of whatever they were carrying onto the ground.

“Let me help with that.” Ren goes to pick up something - a binder of some sort - before stopping. “I mean, if that’s ok?”

The stranger snorts through their nose. “Yeah dude go for it. I appreciate it.” Ren tilts his head. Their voice sounds familiar.

They work in silence to pick up the dropped items and put them in a pile. Ren can only take the lack of sound for so long before he has to say something.

“So….” Ren starts awkwardly. The stranger looks up at him with a raised eyebrow and Ren regrets everything but its too late now. “Come here often?”

Really Ren? Really?

“The intersection?” The stranger’s eyebrow goes even higher. “Yes actually, it’s on my way to work.”

“Oh! Me too!” Ren’s tail starts wagging. Something in common! Granted, this is one of the more busy intersections but Ren will take it. “I’m actually on my way there now!”

“Is that why you were in such a rush?” The stranger asks playfully. Ren flushes.

“Yeah, I’m kinda late? Well, technically I run a small business and I’m my own boss so I’m only late if I say I’m late but I open at 9 and its nearly then so I’d say I’m late.” It's not like he gets many walk-in customers anyways. Most people looking to hire an architect schedule ahead.

The stranger nods before they look confused. “That makes sense only why are you helping me if that will make you late?”

“Because I’m my own boss and if I’m late no one can get mad at me for that!” Ren explains. “Also it’s very rude not to help someone if you run them over.”

“I wouldn’t say you ran me over, it was more of a mutual topple.” The stranger jokes. Ren grins,

“True! I ate pavement. Not a great taste. Even worse than my friend Falsey’s mac and cheese. Sorry Falsey.” He mumbles that last part under his breath.

By this point, they had collected most of the dropped items and arranged them in the strangers arms. Ren goes to pick up the final item and notices the logo it’s stamped with. “Hey this is Yogscast brand stuff. You work for them?”

The stranger nods and takes the piece of paper. “Yep, in the music department as well as other stuff.”

“Wait wait wait, hold on.” Ren shuts his eyes and thinks. “I thought your voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t place it. Did you sing that one parody?”

The stranger - or maybe not a stranger any more- scratches at the leafy horns on their head. “Yep, that’s me. Martyn Inthelittlewood.”

“That’s so cool dude!” Ren’s tail is wagging even more. “Oh, if we’re exchanging names I’m Ren Diggity Dog. Or just Ren.”

Martyn makes the usual face that most people make upon hearing his full name but at least he doesn’t laugh. Small wins.

“I’d shake your hand but…” Martyn shrugs, arms full of stuff.

“We are shaking hands in spirit.” Ren says seriously. Martyn’s lips twitch up.

“We are.” He readjusts the stuff in his arms. “I’d love to talk more, Ren, but I think we’re both about to be late if we keep chatting.”

“Oh, right!” Ren takes a step back and lets Martyn walk in front of him. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Same.” Martyn looks back once more to meet Ren’s eyes before he turns away and walks off. Ren does the same.

He only regrets later that he probably wouldn’t ever get the chance to talk to Martyn again, cause he forgot to ask for his comm code. Oh well, nothing he can do about it unless he bumps into him again. It’s unfortunate but Ren can’t dwell on it.

But someone else is dwelling on it. Or rather, something.

The universe saw this interaction, saw the potential these two people had. There was a spark between them, not something that could grow in this world but something that maybe should be given a chance. The universe knows that Martyn and Ren will never meet again, even though there’s many close calls, so it makes a choice.

It is not hard to twine together two souls, to let them be born again in the same world together and give them another chance. It barely takes the universe a breath to thread the strings of fate around these two and let them try again.

Maybe they would never meet in the next life, maybe it would be another one-off, or maybe they’d get close before something stopped them.

But no matter what, at least they would have this chance.

Never let it be said that the universe is not kind.

~>Present Four<~

Sometimes Martyn’s hunts run late. It could be because of a sneakier foe, a farther location, or a stingier customer. Today is one of those days.

Martyn tries to track the time by the height of the moon but he’s finding it hard to focus on it. His numb legs walk without any input, moving automatically to somewhere safe. The job today was exhausting. First walking miles tracking the beast, then the tough fight to actually slay it, and then dealing with the person who hired him who almost didn’t pay him because apparently they didn’t think he could do it. Martyn would laugh if he wasn’t so tired.

He leans against the doorframe of his apartment, reaching for his keystone to unlock it. Fumbling with it, he manages to press it against the lock and pull the door open.

Or, well, he pulls. The door doesn’t open.

Martyn’s head thumps against the door and he groans. Great, he’s locked outside cause of a broken lock after one of the worst days in his career. It’s like the universe hates him.

Then, Martyn nearly falls on his face. He catches himself on the doorframe again as the door swings open, revealing a very tired, sunglasses-less Rendog in soft blue pajamas.

Ok maybe the universe doesn’t hate him, but it’s sure making his life weird.

“Ren, what are you doing inside my house?” Martyn mumbles. If he were more awake, he might have put two and two together but he’s not, so Ren does it for him.

“This is my house?” Ren ends on a lilt that makes it sound like a question. Martyn blinks and looks around. Oh, so it is.

Martyn probably said that last part out loud because Ren furrows his brow and tilts his head in a way that gives him a confused puppy look. It's even more effective without his glasses. “Yeah dude, it is. How’d you get them mixed up? We don’t even live in the same part of town.”

“Hey, they’re not too different. Anyone could have gotten them mixed up.” Martyn defends himself even as his foggy brain is struggling to remember what his apartment looks like.

Ren smiles ruefully. “Never been to your place so I’ll take your word on it.” Martyn nods and regrets it immediately as his vision gains extra colors for a second. He thinks he can see Ren reaching out for him. “Woah, careful there bud. You don’t look so hot. Is everything alright?”

“Eh.” Martyn makes a so-so motion. “Job was rough today. Kinda started moving on autopilot and ended up here. So, I’m dead on my feet but I’m not in mortal danger. Just worn out.”

Ren looks at him in a way that makes Martyn think he really doesn’t believe that. His eyes scanned Martyn’s body and what he sees causes them to widen. “Is that your blood?” He points at a wet stain dripping down Martyn’s shirt.

“Uh,” Martyn takes a moment to think back. “Probably? It's more of a 50-50 mix this time.” He chuckles at his own joke and then winces at the stab of pain that follows.

Ren doesn’t laugh. Martyn keeps talking. “Really dude, I’m ok. I have stuff at home to fix me up and tomorrow I’ll be right as rain.”

Ren’s ears pin to his head. “You’re going to walk back to your house? Like that?” He gestures a hand at all the blood on Martyn, at his sagging shoulders. “Er, I mean, you yourself look fine just…”

“Don’t worry, I got your meaning.” Martyn shrugs. “But yeah, unless you’d be willing to lend me some kind of teleporting item, I think I’ll be walking. That is, if you even carry those.”

Ren shakes his head. “We don’t but… that’s not the only option.”

“Really?” Martyn raises an eyebrow, not suspiciously but genuinely curious at Ren’s other option.

“Yeah!” Ren gets a bit of his former energy back. He stands straighter and his tail isn’t fully between his legs. “I get pretty banged up when working - bit of a doofus - so my medkit is stocked well and full. If you want to come in and let me look at you, I’d be happy to! Probably better than walking home.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose..” Martyn starts. It’s not really that. I mean, he doesn’t want to impose but he also thinks that if Ren helps him with his wounds, tenderly bandaging them, then he may actually die.

“You wouldn’t be! Don’t worry dude, let me take care of you.” Ren blushes a bit, ears flicking in surprise. He probably didn’t expect to say that. Martyn was about to refuse again, say he was really fine enough to go home but…

But he is worn. He is tired. He’s bloody and bruised and he used most of his strength just walking here. Honestly, if he started walking home he'd probably pass out in an alleyway before he even got halfway there.

And really, would it be so bad for Ren to take care of him? Withstanding the death by heart attack or blood rush to the head, that is. It’d probably be nice, actually. Martyn doesn’t have too many people that take care of him.

So instead of protesting Martyn just nods wordlessly and lets Ren reach out and help lead him inside. He probably puts more weight on the taller man than he needs to, but Ren never complains. Martyn uses this chance to take a longer glance around the inside of Ren’s house.

It’s very obviously Ren’s home, not just that it feels like a place he would live in and decorate but it’s also very obviously lived in by him. Martyn’s apartment doesn’t share the same fate. Half the time he doesn’t even put food in his icebox because he’s gone so often it all goes bad.

Ren helps Martyn sit down on the sofa. Ren takes a minute to fidget with the pillows and make sure he’s comfy before he stands up and points back behind him, at a half-open door.

“Need to get my medkit from the workshop, you good to hold tight for a sec?” Martyn nods and Ren turns to go, leaving Martyn with nothing to do but spend more time observing Ren’s house.

It’s a lot bigger on the inside than he expected - through magic or just good decorating and lighting Martyn can’t say - but even with a large amount of furniture it doesn’t seem crowded. The furniture’s all comfy stuff and while its generally mis-matched all of it works with the blood orange hues of the wall. On these walls were pictures - portraits of moments captured in time with magic - and framed items - probably some enchanted items Ren made himself. Martyn’s currently in the center room of the house, a cozy living room with one flannel blue couch plus some armchairs and a large balcony that Martyn vaguely remembers from the front of Renchanting. Craning his neck, Martyn gets a view of some of the other rooms back the way they came from: an open kitchen with bowls piled in the sink to his left, the door Ren threw open that leads to his workshop, stray tools still laying on the desk.

Some of those tools looked rather wicked for just enchanting. Who needs a knife that sharp?

The couch he’s on is cozy, probably even cozier than Martyn’s own bed. He sinks deeper into its cushions and looks up at the pointed roof of Ren’s house. No visible attic or loft so Martyn amuses himself with tracing the grains of wood in the supports with his eyes, shaping and naming monsters from their patterns.

At some point, his eyes shut. He doesn’t sleep, but his thoughts morph to vague daydreams that feel like memories. Him striding across the land, not geared like the adventurer he is today but like a traveling herald of olden times. Him holding a gem axe, a great test in front of him. Him shouting “Eyes”, like that word had hidden meaning. Him charging down a mountain to retake his home, falling in battle as he ran to a comrade’s side. Then, vaguer memories: moons and shadow, betrayal and falling.

A shuffle pulls him from these daydream memories and when he opens his eyes to see Ren in front of him, they’re gone, twisting out of reach like a slippery fish.

He instead focuses on Ren, who is very, very close to his face. It’s only Martyn’s quick reflexes and understanding of danger that stops him from lashing out. He stiffens but that’s all.

Ren’s eyes are furrowed in focus and their color is surprising. He isn’t sure what color he expects to see but the deep blue he gets isn’t it.

These eyes go wide and Ren steps back. He coughs and moves to set down the large medkit he was holding onto a side table. Martyn watches him with lazy eyes, almost too tired and comfortable to focus as Ren pulls out gauze and other medicinal supplies from the case.

“Ok, we’re gonna get you cleaned up.” Ren sits down on the edge of the sofa beside Martyn. There isn’t that much space but Ren makes due, moving and shifting so he has enough space to work comfortably and not compromise Martyn’s comfort. “This may take a while, I want to check all of these scrapes and make sure they’re not infected or anything. That’d be no good. If you need anything, like water or food, just speak up. Same with needing me to stop. But also, feel free to just take a nap if you want! I know the couch is nice and cozy. Trust me, I’ve taken my fair share of catnaps there as well.”

Martyn mumbles in affirmation and Ren chuckles. “Alrighty then, let's get to work!”

Martyn lets his eyes rest as Ren starts cleaning and bandaging one a cut on his arm. It’s pretty relaxing. Ren’s gentle with his care, claws barely brushing over bits of bark on Martyn’s forearm. Ren must have done something - either with magic or medicine - because Martyn can’t even feel the pain that should be there, even as Ren washes the cut.

At some point, Ren finishes tying up the bandage and instead starts tracing lines over Martyn’s arm, following invisible trails over his bark as well as lines of his skin. Martyn wonders what shapes he’s making, if they mean anything to him. He could ask but doesn’t, for fear of breaking the spell of the moment. As if reading his very thoughts, Ren stops, does nothing for a time, and goes back to tending to a different wound on Martyn’s body.

Martyn doesn’t jump when Ren touches his face, though its a near thing. He doesn’t open his eyes either, though he is a bit confused. Not upset or anything, just confused. Then he remembers when he was knocked off his feet and fell onto a rock, busting up his cheek. Of course Ren would make sure to take care of that too, of course. Means nothing more than that.

Eventually, Ren finishes with that side of his body. He fidgets with the pillows around Martyn again, and Martyn playfully swats at him. He obviously missed, his eyes being shut and all.

“Stop fussing.” Martyn grumbles.

“I’m not fussing, dude!” Ren responds playfully but he stops messing with the pillows, so Martyn lets it go.

Ren sits down on the other side of the couch. Then, nothing. Martyn wonders why he isn’t doing anything before he feels a featherlight touch against his side.

“Uh, I’ll have to pull up your shirt a bit to deal with this. Not by much, it’s low enough, but if that bothers you I can leave it.” Ren’s talking close to him, his voice nervous.

“It's fine.” Martyn slurs. “I don’t mind.”

“If you’re sure?” Ren intones.

“Yep.” Martyn pops the p lazily.

Ren gets to work then. Martyn’s shirt is pulled up - just enough to get to the cut, as Ren said - and Ren sets to cleaning it. Once again, he does something to make it numb and this time Martyn can hear the faint buzz and whir of a magic item activating.

Ren is just as tender as before. He works swiftly but with obvious care, even through the numbing agent Martyn knows Ren is light with his touches. Gosebumps pop up over Martyn’s skin, tingles from the pure sensation.

Ren starts to hum, some kind of jaunty tune. Familiar. Maybe something Martyn’s heard from a traveling bard.

Martyn’s struck with the realization that this is probably the most someone’s been kind to him in a while. And its Ren, Ren who met him not more than a month and a half ago, if that. Ren, who’s a kind and special person. Ren, who Martyn definitely woke up with his knocking and yet still stayed up to take care of him.

It’s too much and not nearly enough but also more than he deserves. Martyn’s mind is blazing and its almost enough to make him cry, this tender love. He needs to say something, to ask why.

“Ren?” Martyn mumbles, face buried in a pillow Ren put under his head. His eyes open just a crack, to see Ren’s face. “Why are you being so nice to me? You barely know me…”

Ren pauses his humming. “…you know, sometimes I forget that. It’s been what, a few weeks? Feels like we’ve known each other for ages.”

“It does.” Martyn agrees. Ren’s one of those people who slot so easily into your life that you’d be surprised to remember he wasn’t always there.

“But it doesn’t matter if we’ve only known each other a few weeks.” Ren looks up at him, making eye contact. “I know you, Martyn, and I know you’re someone I want to help. Whether it be via tending your wounds like this or discounts on items or even just a kind face to talk to, I want to help you. Cause I care about you dude!” He looks down to finish bandaging Martyn’s side, missing Martyn’s stunned expression. “And you’ve helped me too, even if you didn’t know it.”

“How? I don’t feel like I’ve done anything worthy of this.” Martyn gestures a hand to all of Ren, all that he’s doing.

“But you have! And it doesn’t matter - cause I’d help you no matter what you did - but you have helped me! You’ve bought from my shop, you’ve helped me with getting supplies, you cheer me up when days are rough, you tell me how my enchanting is equal and important to the fancy spells, and you did catch me that one time when I fell.”

And it's true, Martyn did do all that. Some of it he did for other reasons - he bought from Ren because Ren has actually good wares - but most he does because he does want to help Ren. Ren’s important to him, probably the person he sees the most in his life. He likes Ren, he wants to be around Ren and see Ren grow and be happy.

Is that how Ren feels about him too?

It’s a lot for Martyn to handle at the moment so for now he just takes it in, believes it all. “Ok, yeah. I care about you too.” He says, words still muffled by the pillow but clearly audible enough if the way Ren’s ears perk up and his tail starts thumping against the cushions is to be believed.

“Sweet!” Ren grins. “Glad we both agree on that. Now! I’ve got you all fixed up, so what do you say about having some late desert?”

“Sure you don’t just want some for yourself and are trying to get me to agree so it doesn’t seem weird when you get some?” Martyn asks cheekily. Ren’s ears droop.

“That’s true, but you didn’t have to say it!” He - gently - shoves Martyn’s shoulder in jest. Martyn laughs.

“Fine, I’ll try some of your mystery dessert.” He pushes himself up against the couch, into a more sitting position as Ren scrounges through the kitchen and comes back with two plates.

“Tada!” He hands Martyn a plate. “My very special, homemade, Giga-Pie!” Martyn looks down at it.

“This looks like a normal pumpkin pie. What makes it giga?” He asks, grabbing the form Ren hands to him and taking a bite. Yep, pumpkin pie.

“My love, dude! Giga-Pies are made special with this diggity dog’s whole gigantic heart!” Ren points at himself proudly. Martyn chuckles, shaking his head fondly. He takes another bite.

“Oh, is this nutmeg?” He mumbles before swallowing. Ren smirks.

“Perhaps. The actual recipe of the Giga-Pie is a closely guarded secret, passed down from my great-great grandpappy. While I perfected it with the aforementioned love, the actual ingredients of the pie are special too.”

“Darn, guess I’ll need to keep coming over if i want more of these.” Martyn says nonchalantly. Internally, he’s very anxious about Ren’s response.

“Of course! My doors are always open to you.” Ren gestures wildly with his fork, nearly dropping off the piece of his own pie slice. “Come back whenever you want. I’m either here or in the show and dude, I love seeing your face.”

Martyn blushes. He covers it by taking another bite of pie. “If the recipe is a secret, is the story of the creation of this pie one as well? I’m sure your grandpappy had a grand tale for the making of a pie this good.”

“Great, great grandpappy.” Ren corrects gently. “And yes, there is a story…”

Ren goes on to tell a truly grand tale, one involving a state faire, two heartbroken exes, and too many close calls. Marty tries to listen but he keeps getting swept away by the lull of Ren’s voice. He’s tired and while he’s been staying awake mostly by force of pure will, that will has been breaking as the night drags on. His eyes slip shut and the plate of pie, half eaten, rests on his lap.

The last thing he thinks he remembers before sleep takes him is Ren once again fussing with the pillows before draping a soft blanket over Martyn.

He may have said “Good night” or “Love you” or any other sweet phrase but by then, Martyn is out like a light,

~>Past Five<~

“So, should we test it out?”

Ren observes the other man in front of him. This is a new, strange world, one with people paired up together as soul-bonded. Soulmates, we people chose to call them. Ren knows he has one out there but he has no idea who. Thats how this world works, you need to find them yourself.

Martyn could be his soulmate, but there’s no way to know till they test it out. The only way to know for sure is for your soulmate to come to harm and for you to feel their hurt. Maybe a world where the people only have 3 lives, where when you die they die with you, where those on their last life seek to destroy all others, it could be seen as cruel by the universe. To be so connected with another that to be in danger puts them in harm's way as well.

But Ren doesn’t feel that. He thinks - no, he knows - that it would be crueler to go through this world alone.

Martyn would be a fine soulmate to have. He seems dependable, a survivalist at his core. With Martyn at his side, Ren knows that they could win this whole game.

But a part of Ren, a deep part, doesn’t want to know for sure. If Martyn’s not his soulmate, he’ll likely move on, looking for his true match.

Ren doesn’t want that.

But Martyn’s looking at him weirdly and he realizes that he’s been spacing out for at least a minute and he really needs to respond. There isn’t time to stall, it either is or it isn’t.

“Alright man, steady yourself. I’m aiming for the arm.” Ren readies a swing. Not too hard, he doesn’t actually want to hurt Martyn, but still hard enough to hurt

Martyn gets into a sturdy stance and Ren swings. His fist collides with the other man’s shoulder.

Martyn winces.

Ren feels no pain, except maybe internally.

“Gods, that hook of yours is mental.” Martyn rubs his arm.

“Yeah, I’ve been told. Couldn’t feel it though.” Ren jokes with a shrug of his shoulders.

Martyn realizes what that means “Ah, so it wasn’t meant to be?”

Ren shakes his head. “Guess not.” He really was hoping for Martyn to be his bonded.

“Bummer then.” Martyn says. Seems Ren wasn’t the only one hoping. That knowledge is almost enough to make up for the loss.

Without much of a reason to stay together, and the knowledge that their soulmates are out there, they split up.

It isn’t until much later, around a week exactly, that they reunite.

Ren’s found his soulmate, BigB. He’s a chill dude and they hype each other up. Ren’s happy with his partnership and thoughts of Martyn are secondary to thoughts of BigB and Box.

Secondary, but not gone.

Ren’s out the day Martyn shows up at Box. He’s making a trade of goats for cows with the ranchers. It isn’t until he’s leading them back, Jimmy helping him store them somewhere for a time, that he notices that BigB isn’t alone in Box.

Both of their voices carry through the paneless windows of Box, easily picked up by Ren’s ears.

“Did a frog lead you here?” BigB asks. Ren tilts his head, confused. Did a frog lead who here?

A familiar voice speaks.

“What no? Why would a frog lead me here?”

It’s Martyn.

Ren jolts, stumbling on a loose pie of cobble. He really hadn’t expected to hear Martyn again so soon, he thought he’d be busy with his soulmate. Ren wracked his brain. He’d be bonded to Cleo or Scott if Ren is counting right. That makes more sense, they’d be neighbors then. Maybe Martyn’s asking to trade or solidify an alliance?

“Well some frogs lead me to Ren so I thought I’d just ask.” Ren snorts. BigB told him that story, of how he kissed a frog on the head and followed the direction it hopped, right into the cave Ren was inhabiting. “Fate,” BigB swears. “Weird luck,” Ren thinks.

Plus it doesn’t help that Ren killed one of the frogs BigB loved so much. He winces. Not his best idea, not at all.

“That seems like a You thing.” Ren can almost see Martyn’s raised eyebrow, his pointed look.

“…maybe.” Ren can also now see BigB’s unconvinced expression as he’s reached Box’s doorway.

“Hey dudes!” He introduces himself loudly. BigB had seen Ren come in and wasn’t surprised but Martyn’s hand goes to his sword as he spins around. Thankfully, Ren does not get a gut full of blade as Martyn sees who he is and relaxes.

“Hey Ren.” BigB lifts a hand in greeting. Martyn nods. “How’d the trading go?”

“Excellently, my friend!” Ren strides over to them both. “Team Rancher are very happy with their new goats and the cattle will fit in nicely here at Box. But, that’s boring news. Martyn, what brings you to our home this fine day?”

Surprise flashes across Martyn’s face, he hadn’t expected to be called on. “Well, I am here for trading purposes. Looking for carrots myself and I heard you two had some?”

“Ah, bringing them home to your soulmate? But I thought Scott and Cleo-“ Ren stopped abruptly wen BigB started shaking his head rapidly and Martyn visibly stiffened.

“No, it’s just for me. Neither of them wanted me.” Martyn tries to keep his voice light but it drips sorrow and grief.

Ren wishes the Warden would come out of its deep dark and suck his soul out, he’s so embarrassed. And Martyn looks so empty. Ren can’t imagine a life without BigB in it, they’re each other’s second half of their soul.

“Do you have a base yet?” BigB asks.

“Nope. I’ve been sleeping in cots under the stars for the past few nights. It's quite cozy.” Martyn rubs his arm.

Well that won’t do at all.

Both BigB and Martyn turn to him, questions in their eyes. Oh, he said that part out loud.

“Well, its just, Box is plenty big. And BigB and I only really use like half of it. There’s space for you, if you want to crash tonight.” Ren looks at BigB pleadingly, begging him with his eyes to agree to this. He knows neither of them know Martyn that well, but this is important to Ren. Ren wants Martyn to be a part of his home, maybe just for the night but maybe longer.

BigB looks back at Ren and nods minutely. “The second floor’s free and so is most of the first, besides the farm. There won’t be any risk of mobs in here.” He says. Ren grins. He knew he loved that man!

Martyn’s gaze flicks between them. It settles on Ren. He furrows his brow, blinks, and then nods, a smile peeking out from between his lips. “Yeah, I think I’ll take you both up on that. Would love to get some sleep without waking up as a pincushion cause skellies.” His eyes meet Ren’s again and this time Ren looks away first. Martyn’s very intense. “But I don’t think I can stay longer than a night, I have a plan to raid the Deep Dark and then try and get Cleo to take me back. You guys are welcome to join me for the raid.”

Even though he knew this was expected, that Martyn couldn’t stay forever, Ren’s heart still sunk. He heard BigB agreeing to the raid, felt himself nod along, all while his mind was deep in thought.

Ren doesn’t want to let Martyn go. He wants to keep him close, make him a part of this little community at Box. Ren feels tied to him in a way he can’t explain. Maybe the universe tied him in too many strings, linking him to people who weren’t linked back.

He still can’t call the universe unfair or cruel, only call himself unlucky.

After BigB pointed out a free space for Martyn to set up his portable cot, he pulled Ren outside with the excuse of checking up on the cows. Ren knew better, this was an intervention.

“Ok, what happened in there? You offered him our home to stay in without hesitation, you seemed really sad when Martyn said he couldn’t stay, what’s up with that? Is there history?” BigB lowers his voice enough so there’s no way Martyn could hear them, not even with Ren’s super hearing.

“Not much, we met a few days ago.” Ren dragged his hand down his face, groaning. “I don’t know, dude… I felt upset when Martyn said he still wanted to go after Cleo. Maybe even a bit jealous? It's so weird, I barely know him!”

“Did you want him to stay with us? Like for a while?” BigB’s studying Ren, like he’s trying to understand him. Ren scratches at his face

“Yeah I kinda did.” Then, because apparently today was the day of admitting things: “You know, I wanted him to be my soulmate, the first time we tried it.”

“Yeah?” There’s no judgment on BigB’s face, just thoughtfulness.

But also because he needs to say it: “Not that I don’t love you, dude! But Martyn, it feels like I’ve known him for a long time. Like an old friend I just reconnected with. Deja vu, maybe?” Ren tries to explain but he can’t find the words to explain the way it works is his brain. “Argh, I’m losing my words, dude! There’s just something about him, you know?”

BigB shrugs “I don’t really know. This might be a You thing. Maybe you knew him before the game?” BigB suggested.

“Think so?” Ren questions. None of them remember before the game, which is suspicious in it of itself. BigB and Ren ave been theorizing that they had lives before all this. “Maybe he really is my childhood friend.”

“Maybe so! But you’re not going to figure that out down here, nearly stepping in the cow patties. Like that one.” BigB points. Ren carefully steps over the offending cow patty.

“Thanks dude.” Ren smiles at him. “For the rescue and also for everything else.”

“It was nothing.” BigB shrugs, but Ren knows he appreciated the thanks.

They come back to find Martyn setting up his cot, moving the blankets around to make it as comfy as it can be. He looks up and sees them both.

“Think you’ll be able to sleep like that tonight?” BigB asks “I can try and find some extra wool if you need more fluff.”

“Nah.” Martyn waves him off, laying back into the blankets. “I either sleep or I don’t. Knowing my luck, it’ll be don’t. Sleep’s been rough lately.” He’s not meeting either of their eyes. Ren doesn’t think he meant to be this vulnerable.

“You know, if you really have trouble, i could squeeze in there? They always say you sleep better with a partner.” Ren was supposed to be making a joke to cheer Martyn up but ended up being a bit too honest. BigB looked at him with a raised eyebrow before grinning.

“It’s true. Ren’s a great cuddler too. That is, if you don’t mind his snores. Or getting kicked out of the bed.” Oh that traitor.

Ren pouted. “One time, dude, it was one time.” He whined.

Martyn looked between them both, the ghost of a smile on his face. “I think I’m good for now, but I’ll let you know if that changes.”

Ren tugged on his shirt collar. Wow, summer nights were hotter than he realized. “Well, I’m sleeping over there,” He points a thumb at the larger, more permanent bed in the room, “So is BigB. Wake us up if you need anything.”

“I will.” Martyn nods and turns over, facing the wall to sleep. Ren walks over to his own bed with BigB.

BigB’s out like a light. For all he talks about Ren being a sleep kicker, BigB’s a starfish. Always sprawled out around Ren. Like most nights, Ren tries to move him around so he can find a comfy position to sleep. Its a good distraction from Martyn, lightly dozing just a few feet away from them both.

Ren hugs BigB close. He wonders if he had asked Martyn to sleep in their bigger bed - instead of him crawling into his cot - if he would have accepted. He probably would have needed to have a bigger talk with BigB first. Still, Martyn wishes he could hold Martyn like he’s holding BigB, wishes he could pull them both close to him. Hear their breathing and heartbeats like gentle waves of a lake, calming in their repetition.

It’s easier if he doesn’t look. It's easier if he buries his face into BigB’s back and tries not to strain his ears for the sound of Martyn’s breathing, like that would somehow calm him.

It’s easier, but it’s not easy.

Maybe he’s just a bit selfish.

Just a bit.

~>Present Five<~

Martyn doesn’t know when he got used to waking up and seeing Ren’s tall roof above him, but he has. The first night he woke up in Ren’s house, after falling asleep on his sofa, it’d taken him a while to remember where he was, the place much different when lit by natural sunlight than by magic lamps. The second and the third nights were much the same, Martyn crashing at Ren’s house after hanging out the day before, but maybe the fourth is where it changed? Martyn doesn’t remember being alarmed at the new location then, like his brain had finally accepted that Ren’s house was safe.

It’s the seventh time he’s slept over now. Last night had been fun, Ren had specifically planned a meeting between Martyn and his other friend, False. They’d stayed up late playing board games and eating snacks False had raided from Ren’s cabinet. Ren had actually fallen asleep first, conked out on the sofa and Martyn was soon to follow. Martyn doesn’t know if False fell asleep here at all or if she just let herself out because when he blinks the leftover sleep out of his eyes and looks around, she’s nowhere to be seen.

Neither is Ren for that matter.

As Martyn rubs the sleep out of his eyes, he listens hard and thinks he can barely hear the sound of Ren downstairs, messing with the register as he waits for the early morning customers.

Pushing off against the pile of pillows he had fallen asleep on - or were added later, probably Ren’s doing - Martyn started his morning stretches. As an adventurer, one needed to stay limber, and the best way to get the early morning soreness out of your bones was a good stretch.

Ren had tried to join him once, one of the few mornings where they both had gotten up around the same time. He managed for a while with the basic stuff but managed to pull something when Martyn moved onto more advanced stretches. Not too bad and definitely funny looking back on it. Ren’s sharp yelp before he fell over onto the floor was stuck in Martyn’s head forever.

After finishing the stretch, Martyn gets to work picking up his makeshift sleep-nest. Pillows go back onto the couch and any blankets Ren may have draped over him get folded and set on the sofa.

He ducks into the bathroom next, checking his face in the mirror before cleaning it off with water. Martyn isn’t too fussy about this step, he knows lots of people take a long time making sure they look nice before going out. Martyn’s never really bothered. Water’s all he really has on the road and it does his job. Ren puts a bit more effort into his hygiene - as seen by some of the tonics and potions laid out on the sink countertop - but Martyn’s a bit too nervous to use Ren’s stuff. He’d want to ask first but he’s not even sure if most of it would work on him, Ren being a werewolf and Martyn being a dryad.

So water it is.

After messing with his hairband and making sure the new buds on his horns were ok, Martyn moved on to the next step. A few stays ago, that next step might have been just heading downstairs to meet Ren, but after Martyn’s stomach rumbled rather obviously one night, Ren’s taken it to always make extra breakfast for him, even if he’s not awake yet.

And just as usual, there’s a covered plate on the counter and a note next to it. Martyn goes for the note first.

“Good morning Martyn! I made some chicken and waffle sandwiches for us this morning. Well, yours is a sandwich. I just ate mine one-sided. But sandwiches are more portable, so I thought you’d like that! Anyways, I’m working the counter this morning so come on down and say hi! BD - Love, your pal Ren” Martyn reads the note aloud, a smile across his face.

He opens the covered plate and just like Ren said, chicken and waffle sandwiches. They’re a bit soggy from the maple syrup but still hand-holdable. Martyn picks one and takes a bit out of it. Still warm, probably from some latent enchantment on the plate. Martyn’s grateful, no one likes cold chicken.

It tastes exactly like what Martyn likes, crispy breaded chicken with spices and sweet syrup over fluffy waffles. Martyn doesn’t think he’s ever mentioned to Ren that he likes this kind of food, Ren just Knew.

He finishes one sandwich before he can even blink. The other he tries to eat slowly, to savor it.

As Martyn has learned a few visits ago, Ren actually has a secret staircase from his apartment into the backroom of the shop. It's what he uses to actually open it in the mornings, as walking all the way down the staircase and into the backdoor is not very quick. Grabbing an extra sandwich for the road, Martyn makes his way to the staircase. Its behind what Martyn assumed on his first visit was a closet door. He remembers the first time Ren showed it to him asking if there’s any magic in it to make it so compact. Ren had laughed, said the only magic in it was the magic of construction.

Martyn hops down it two steps at a time. Following the windy way down, Martyn steps into the backrooms of Renchanting, where he can more clearly hear Ren’s humming and messing with the register. Martyn eyes the backdoor, the one that leads to the ally behind the shop, but Ren was sad the first time he snuck out, so it's better to go see him now.

Not because Martyn does want to spend more time with Ren before he goes to work, totally not that.

Ok well it's a little bit that too.

Or a lot…

Let's be honest, Martyn’s not kidding anyone, even himself. It’s a lot.

Martyn just likes Ren, simple as that.

So he goes through the door leading into the front of the shop - the door that opens up right behind the counter and register - and nearly smacks right into Ren, who also opened the door at the same time.

Thankfully, Martyn doesn’t drop his chicken and waffle sandwich.

“Martyn!” Ren exclaims, pulling Martyn into a short hug. Lucky for Martyn, he was expecting it this time and could hug back with his free hand. The first time Ren surprised Martyn with a hug, he nearly passed out. “You’re awake dude!” Ren notices the waffle-sandwich in hand, “And you got the breakfast I made! Awesome! I knew the waffles would make a good bread substitute.

“Yep, super portable, well, except for the maple syrup sogginess.” Ren chuckles bashfully as Martyn takes another bite, chews, swallows and keeps talking. “Wow, yeah I need to fall asleep at your house more if it means I get food as good as this in the mornings.”

Ren lights up. “As I said before, stay anytime you like. What's mine is yours.”

Martyn leans against the open door frame. “You say that, but wait until I start stealing your stuff. It’s only a matter of time before I slip up and use one of those bottles on the sink to clean my face.”

Ren winces. “That would be bad. A lot of that is special werewolf products and well, you’re not a werewolf.”

“Yep, tree-man.” Martyn points to himself.

Ren shifts and Martyn catches a glimpse of the window behind him. His eyes widen. “Hey, what time is it?”

Ren turns back and forth, looking for a clock. He eventually finds one on the far wall and squints at it. “About eleven? Well, eleven-thirteen if you want it on-the-dot.”

Shit.

“Shit, I slept in that late?” Martyn puts a hand to his forehead. “I didn’t realize.”

“Honestly, I kinda thought you were gonna snooze all day.” Ren comments. “You were still out like a light even when I went up to check.”

“It's those new curtains you got, man. Really good light blockers.” Martyn admits, internally trying to plan his entire day so he’ll have time to do everything, mainly pick up a job.

“Oh, they are? False helped me pick them out after my last ones ripped. Did not know they were light-proof. Wonder if it’s an enchantment. Maybe I could reverse-engineer it to sell at my shop?” Ren gets distracted thinking.

“Don’t think most people go to a magic item shop looking for enchanted curtains.” Martyn jokes.

“But they might, dude! They might.” Ren answers before he pulls himself back on topic. “So, you heading out?”

“If it’s this late, I probably have to. All the good jobs would be stolen by now but maybe I can find a risky but well paying job that everyone else overlooked.”

Ren furrows his brows. “I trust that you can take care of yourself, dude, but be careful. Don’t take risks that aren’t worth it.”

From anyone else, that would sound condescending. From Ren, it sounds sweet. Martyn softens. “I will, don’t worry.”

Ren smiles gratefully and moves aside so Martyn can pass. As Martyn walks to the door, he keeps rearranging his daily schedule in his head.

Honestly, there’s not really a point in heading to work today. He can check the nearest job posting but when he said that maybe he could find a risky but well paying job, in truth he was exaggerating the maybe aspect of that.

Martyn hasn’t had a free day in… gods well it's been forever, hasn’t it? Maybe for Springfest last year? If you count him going camping and using the camping as an excuse to complete a hunt as days off.

That's the thing about being an independent contractor, you chose the workdays. And Martyn’s been working everyday for at least a year.

Martyn can’t help that he’s a restless person. He’s a traveler, a world-strider. There’s a reason his apartment is empty most of the time and the only real reason he comes back to the city is to get more supplies.

Like, why sit around and be bored when you could be climbing a mountain tracking a feral kirin? Doesn’t that just sound much more exciting?

But now that he has this free day, and he couldn’t go just get a job that won’t get him killed, what does he do with it? What does Martyn Inthelittlewood do with free time?

A few months ago, he’d answer something like “Explore the city, see how many levels of the sewer there are” or “If it’s a Wednesday or Saturday, sign up for arena fights to keep skills sharp.”

But now the answer is very obviously “Hang out with Ren.”

Martyn stops walking. Ok, so he wants to go hangout with Ren cause he has a lot of free time. He just left Ren’s place though. And besides, what would they even do?

“Ask him to lunch” is the answer to that.

…ok so maybe Martyn’s gone back on his statement a few weeks ago, that he’d only go on a date with Ren if Ren asked first. Maybe he also wants to ask him out too? On a date? Not just a bro hangout, though that would be fun too. Martyn’s indecisive.

Well anyways, his brain’s established that asking Ren out to lunch is what he wants to do, so the next thing to do would be to turn around and go do that?

He does and another part of his brain starts yelling at him

“But! But! But you just ate the sandwich that Ren made! And it’s too soon to ask him to lunch, what if he wants more time to prepare? Do you even know any good places to eat around here?”

Martyn shushes that part of his brain, because he really doesn’t need any distractions, this is already nerve-wracking enough as it is. He can figure all that stuff out later.

So Martyn steps back into Renchanting, watching Ren behind the counter as his ears prick up at the sound of the chime, already speaking his rehearsed line before he even looks up.

“Welcome, welcome, to Renchanting, home of the finest enchanted-Martyn?!” He cuts himself off as he notices who exactly walked into the shop. “You’re back?! Why? Did you forget something?” Ren leans against the counter, leaning towards Martyn.

“You could say that…” Martyn tugs at his shirt collar. Gods, this was difficult. “I just remembered something I wanted to ask.”

Ren tilts his head, ears flopping around at the motion. “Well I’m all ears, shoot!”

Martyn inhales deeply, tapping a foot against the floor. “Would you be up to going on a lunch date with me? To somewhere around here? I don’t know where exactly — I hadn’t gotten that far in the plan — but I’ll pay! Just, you know, realized I actually didn’t have to go to work today and had a lot of free time.”

Ren blinks. Martyn can visibly see the runic circles in his brain activate as he processes Martyn’s question. “Oh!” He grins. “Yeah, that sounds great! Wait,” Martyn - halfway through breathing a sigh of relief - stiffens again. “Are you asking me out platonically or romantically? Like, is this a bro hangout or like a date-date?”

So Martyn’s not the only one who calls it a bro hangout in his head. “Well, it was supposed to be romantic, so a date-date, but if you just wanna keep it platonic we can have a bro hangout instead?” Martyn is tryin really hard to keep his chill, internally he is sweating bullets. This is the closest he’s gotten to a confession of any kind and he is nervous.

Ren shakes his head, still grinning. “Nah, I’m cool with it being romantic. I mean, I’d be down either way, but if you like me I’m down to give it a shot. I mean,” He gives Martyn a look past his glasses that Martyn tries really hard not to read into, “You know I like you lots, dude. Love your face, as I have said. Going on a date with you and seeing how this all works seems like a grand time to me!”

Martyn finally lets himself exhale. “Ok then.” He then realizes he did not plan this at all. “So, do you want to go now? Or later? Because its close to lunchtime and I kinda don’t have anything to do till then…” He trails off, a bit embarrassed.

“You said you didn’t know where in the area to go?” Ren walks around the counter. Martyn nods. “Well, I know a great cafe run by a good friend of mine. It's got great sandwiches and pastas and really good desserts, mainly cookies. Literally, the cookies are killer, dude. Much better than the kind Scar sells at all the grocery stores. However, it’s a bit of a walk to get there, so I don’t go as often as I should. If we leave now, we can get there by noon. That sound good to you?

“What is it with you and sandwiches?” Martyn asks before his brain catches up to his mouth. Ren laughs, throwing his head back.

“I don’t know! I guess I’m just in the mood. So, what do you say?”

Ren extends a hand to Martyn. It’s a familiar gesture.

“I’m down.”

He takes it. It feels right.

The chime of the door jingles behind them both as they make their way to BigB’s Bakery and Cafe - as that is the name of the cafe - together.

Hand in hand.

~>Past Two<~

It’s a quiet night in Renchanting, only the crickets above and the crackling torches made any noise. The rest of the Red Army had gone to their separate homes to sleep, the day had been busy with skirmishes against monsters and people alike. Martyn had gone up top to do one last check of the perimeter - his nerves wouldn’t let him sleep otherwise - and Ren was waiting for him to return.

Martyn pads down the staircase into the basement. He steps lightly, being careful to avoid the steps he knows will squeak and make noise.

As Martyn peeks into the main room of the basement, he’s unsurprised to see Ren sitting on the floor, wrapping up a wound on his arm. If Martyn remembers right, it was something he had reopened during the skirmishes today.

Ren finishes the bandaging and puts away the supplies in the chest next to him. He still doesn’t stand up, instead he pulls out his axe and starts sharpening it. The loud scraping sound rang loud into the empty room of the basement below Renchanting - current base of the Red Army - and the chirps and crackling is buried by it.

Unconsciously, Martyn starts to sneak toward Ren, The sound of the whetstone against the axe blade muffled the steps of Martyn’s shoes, already muffled from years of practice.

“What’re you clunking around for?” Martyn jumps at the surprise sound. Looking at Ren, he catches Ren’s eye via the axe blade mirror. By tilting the axe in just the right way, Ren had managed to catch a glimpse of Martyn. While Ren was the best at hearing threats - and Martyn prided himself on having the best eyesight of them both - Ren’s visual perception wasn’t bad by any means.

“This is your home, there’s no need to sneak around like in an enemy base.” Ren continues. He has more roughness in his voice than usual, a bit more of the Scottish rasp, but he doesn’t sound angry. Tired, maybe, but not angry. Martyn isn’t afraid to approach him.

“Ah, sorry milord. Didn’t want to disturb your business.” That wasn’t the main reason but it's the best way he can explain it. Explaining that his body moved on its own, wanted to get as close as he could and just watch Ren work, well, that sounds a bit creepy doesn’t it?

Martyn sits down facing Ren, folding his legs criss-cross-applesauce against the cold stone floor. Ren raises his head to regard him more clearly and he sets his axe aside. Martyn’s always appreciated that he did that, show that Martyn is an equal by always looking at him when he speaks. He may be king, but he never lets Martyn feel unvalued or like a bother.

Martyn catches a glimpse of Ren’s eye and tries to stop a flinch. Ever since a lens on Ren’s sunglasses had broken and had to be removed, one of his blood red eyes was always visible. This was great to have when glaring down at your enemy, Martyn had seen how it had made their enemies squirm, but that same chill that affects enemy greens and yellow also affects allies. An irrational fear, because Martyn knows Ren would never hurt him. He’d already risked it on the Blackheart Altar and Ren had proven trustworthy.

Still, Martyn wishes he could look his king in the eye. He wants to prove that he’s trustworthy too, avoiding eye contact is not great for building trust.

“Your presence is never a disturbance, me hand. Tell me, were the borders of our home secure tonight?” Ren folds his hands in his lap, leaning against the cobblestone wall behind him. Martyn relaxes as well, leaning back on his hands. It's not comfortable but he must still look content, for Ren’s lips quirk up in satisfaction.

Ren knows about Martyn’s inability to sleep sometimes and had actually been the one to suggest that Martyn take to patrolling the walls if he found himself restless. Better to have eyes active and guarding than eyes wastefully being unable to rest. Martyn always feels more rested the next day after having done a patrol versus trying to push himself to sleep, so he can say it does work.

“I didn’t see any unusual trouble while I was out, just the normal night mobs.” Martyn shrugged. “I picked off a few skeletons that took shots at me but none of the rest made it to the wall. We’re secure.” It was easy pickings. After dealing with smart players, mobs were so easy to trick, avoid, and then kill when they couldn’t see you.

“And these skeletons, did they hurt you?” Ren sat up straighter, visible eye furrowing in concern. That same red eye roves over Martyn’s body, checking for injuries. If it were any other red, Martyn would feel unsafe, like his weak spots were being pulled out of him. Heck, if it was any other person period, Martyn might feel offended that they’d assume he’d be hurt by weak mobs.

But it's Ren, so Martyn wasn’t hurt by it. Ren was a worrier, a man with a bleeding heart who cared for his people. Martyn knew Ren would be checking him over from injuries after every patron for the rest of their lives.

“Nope, not a scratch. Can’t say the same for you though.” Martyn gestures to Ren’s arm, at the now-clean bandages over the reopened wound. Ren tenses, like he wants to pull it away. Martyn isn’t hurt by that, he actually understands. Martyn doesn’t like to be called out when he’s injured either and he takes care of all his wounds by himself.

But, Ren would have pestered him about his wound, if he had gotten any. This is fair play in Martyn’s eyes.

“Ah, tis but a flesh wound.” Ren growls dramatically before flipping into a more genuine tone. “But I’m alright, really. I fixed it up myself. Should start healing over the night.”

“That’s good.” Martyn nods. “Think you’ll be healed enough by tomorrow to fight with it? I’ve heard rumors that Crastle are planning an attack.”

“Hopefully.” Ren leans forward. “Just Crastle?” He asks, prompting Martyn to elaborate.

Martyn sighs, rubbing his hand into his face. “Crastle and Monopoly Mountain and maybe the hobbits. Everyone’s against us.”

Ren’s ears drop visibly. Martyn relates. I know they both feel it, the hopelessness, the never-ending war. Ever since the first red had shown on the server, neither of them had known peace. “It's war. They won’t rest till we’re all gone. All of Dogwarts, dead by their hands.” Ren’s claws dig into the wall. He sounds so empty.

Martyn looks down.

He’d gladly kill for Ren, die for Ren. He’s never thought of himself as loyal before, but maybe he’d just never found the right person to be loyal for. Now, at Ren’s side, he knows he’d do anything.

Ren always took killing harder than most, especially for a red life. Sure, he may look fine, he may look like the most terrifying red to have ever lived, but Martyn knows his king. He knows the effort it takes him to raise a weapon against a person, the weight that drags on him after every kill. Ren’s had so much pressure on him, to be a leader, to protect Dogwarts. Martyn wants to take some of that away.

Part of Martyn is glad that he’s Green, that he had more lives left at Ren’s side.

The other part wishes he was Red, so that he could be the one taking some of that burden off his liege.

But another, deeper part, wishes that Reds and Greens and Yellows had never existed, that he and Ren could have been just regular people running a regular enchanting shop.

But no, the world is too cruel to allow Martyn that dream.

Martyn starts tracing patterns around the stone on the floor, unsure of how to voice this. “Sometimes I wonder if there was a way we could have avoided it all. The bloodshed, the fighting, the death.” He looks up at Ren but their eyes don’t meet, instead Martyn focuses on something below Ren’s face. Martyn’s eyes drift to the scar, that scar that he cut into Ren. Because Ren asked it, because it would let them fight back.

Does he regret doing that? No, he’d follow Ren no matter what.

Does he wish he’d never had to make that choice to begin with? Yes, every single day.

It’s a heavy question, laden with heavy thoughts and implications, and Ren doesn’t answer quickly. But he does eventually, haltingly.

“I don’t know laddie.” Ren’s ears are pinned back. “I think this was doomed from the start. Even if we had tried harder, sooner or later someone would have died and the fighting would have started. There was no stopping this. The universe has always had it out for us.”

It’s a bleak answer. A Ren of a few weeks ago, a more naive Ren, would have said otherwise. Martyn remembers that Ren, how he believed in a kind universe, a kind fate, the possibility of a happy ending.

But he can’t anymore. Not with what has happened to him. Not with what the world has pushed at them both.

It hurts though, knowing how much they both have changed and not for the better.

Was there ever a Martyn who believed in the world’s kindness like Ren had? He’s not sure.

Martyn inhales deeply, not quite a sigh and not quite a sob. “Yeah, that’s what I thought…” His hands clench in his lap. Why, why did they have to be brought into a world where they have to lose everything. It's only a matter of time before they lose each other as well.

The quiet stretches on for a long time. Martyn’s lost in his shadowy, bitter thoughts that he’s not sure he can admit. But something about the darkness of night and underground, about the person who’s sitting in front of him, makes him spit it out.

“We’re not making it out of this, are we?”

Ren jolts back. Martyn doesn’t want to bring this up, bring up the fact that even if they make it to the end, their truce is only temporary.

In the end, one of them has to win.

Not both, only one.

In the early days of his service to Ren, he’d thought more about what that end would be like. He thought about backstabbing Ren, bringing about a Spring after the Red Winter.

Now, he knows he can’t.

He’ll either die by Ren’s sword or die later of a broken heart if Ren tries to let him win (because of course he would, of course. Martyn won’t let him).

And that’s only if they make it out of this war. If they face these insurmountable odds and somehow win.

Martyn is a realist. He knows his fate.

But it’s different to see Ren agree with him, being unable to speak so he can only nod.

He nods slowly. Solemnly. It feels like losing that little bit of hope he didn’t know he had, like Ren was Pandora opening the jar and he hadn’t shut the lid fast enough.

Hope escaped. She’s gone.

Martyn laughs. It's humorless, dry, but what else can he do? Ren doesn’t join him, but why would he? Martyn’s probably lost it.

As if proving that he’s fully broke, Martyn cracks a joke. “Well, in that case, I suppose you’ll just have to find me in the next life, seeing as it's not possible for both of us to win.”

As expected, Ren doesn’t laugh at Martyn’s pathetic attempt at humor.

Unexpectedly, Ren’s eyes glint with something like determination.

He takes Martyn’s hand.

Martyn knows he looks shocked right now, but this was truly not what he had expected. He meets Ren’s bloody gaze, searching for some hint of what this means.

Ren coughs once, twice, and recovers his voice. He speaks deep and rich, like every word he says is important and must be remembered. Martyn doesn’t think he can ever forget “Martyn, I swear to ye. No matter how long it may take, no matter the cost, no matter if we remember each other or not, in the next life I will find you. And it will be better than this.” His voice dips into a growl. Martyn shivers. “I do not care if my words cannot change our fate but if the universe is as kind as they all say, it will make it so for us. And if it’s not, I’ll find you again and again and again, until finally there’s a life where we both can be happy. This I swear, as my oath.” At the end, Ren bows his head.

Now Martyn’s the one who’s voice has left him. He can’t shake how familiar this is to his own speech at the Blackheart Altar, how he had told Ren that he was his home that he’d never leave.

But this time, Ren’s the one swearing to Martyn.

It’s unimaginable.

It’s impossible.

It definitely happened.

It's only when Ren shifts in his seat, looking so very nervous and so very cute, that Martyn can’t help but laugh. Not out of maliciousness or a loss of hope, but just because Ren is being Ren. He’s surprised at how fond it sounds to his own ears.

“Gods, you’re so dramatic.” Martyn is overcome with the urge to do something drastic. He gives just a little, pushing his forehead against Ren’s. “I swear it too. I swear to you, my liege.”

“But can you swear to me, your friend?” Ren asks. His red eye has never seemed so warm than when it gazes into Martyn’s very soul. He knows what Ren’s trying to explain, trying to ask. Ren, though he is one for the dramatic titles and roles, has always just wanted people to be at his side not because of duty but because they want to be.

And Martyn really, really wants to. “Of course.” Martyn pulls back, breaking the connection, to look Ren in the eye again. He misses the feeling of safety that gesture had provided, but he needs to say something first. “I swear to you, Ren, my friend, that if we’re reborn again, I will find you.”

“When.” Ren says, pushing their heads back together. Oh, look at that. Ren’s coaxed Hope back into Martyn’s heart.

“Right, when.” Martyn agrees, leaning into Ren.

Under feet of dirt and rock, where no moonlight can reach, they both swear this oath in the hopes that the universe will give them a kindness next.

And even if they don’t believe it is, the universe is kind. It does not even have to change anything, because fate already twists around these two, binding them together.

So again and again, they swear, until they make it work.

~>Present Six<~

Ren growls in annoyance as yet another rune fails to complete the circle. He drops his scribing knife on the small side table normally used to hold whatever flowers Ren’s trying to keep alive this month.

He’s had a lot better luck with that ever since Martyn moved in. Not the rune scribing, but the plants. Martyn really does have a green thumb.

But this? This project?

This is the most frustrating thing Ren’s ever had to do. He needs to not run the same failed solutions over and over again until he gets luck. He needs outside help.

Luckily, there’s someone sitting right next to him that he can ask.

“Hey Martyn, mind if you look this over?” He lifts the offending object of his frustrations out towards his partner.

Martyn looks over at him, looking up from his map. They’ve both been out here on the balcony for about half an hour now, basking in the last fading rays of sunlight and each other’s presence. It’s customary for them. Martyn will plan out hunts and expeditions, an arm resting around Ren’s shoulders, while Ren works on a particularly tricky or time-sensitive commission, leaning against Martyn’s side in the shared loveseat.

Ren lifts up his current project - a complicated mess of rose-gold engravings around a bamboo tube that is supposed to be a telescopic spell focus - and Martyn looks at it. He doesn’t touch it - the catastrophic accidental activation of incomplete runework a few weeks ago had taught them both a valuable lesson - but he leans in and looks it over. Ren - carefully - rotates the cylinder so that Martyn can see all the angles. Martyn hm’s and ha’s as Ren rotates the almost-magic item. Ren thinks that maybe Martyn can actually solve this problem that Ren’s been stuck on for hours

Martyn pulls back eventually, nodding to himself. Ren looks at him with an expression of anticipation.

“I-,“ Martyn starts, one finger raised, “Have no idea what the problem is or how to fix it.”

Ren groans and hides his face in his elbow. “Then I am doomed! Doomed, I tell you!”

Martyn snickers at Ren’s plight and pats him on the shoulder sympathetically. “I don’t know how you thought I had the answer. You’re the enchanter, not me.”

“Yeah, but stuff just ends up getting fixed when I ask you for help. It’s like the magic just really likes you, dude.” Ren tilts his head. “Well, that or you have secret magic knowledge that you’ve been holding out on me.”

“Or, third option here,” Martyn counts on his hand. “You just explain what the problem is. To me. Using your words.”

Ren knows Martyn well enough to know that he obviously knows something Ren doesn’t. It’s in the twist of his mouth and the pinch of his eyebrows.

Maybe Martyn has been learning magic behind his back!

But, if Martyn knows the answer to Ren’s problem, the best way to get it solved is to do what he says.

“So,” Ren takes a deep breath, because this is a long explanation, “I’m working on a commission for a returning customer. The lassie wanted a telescoping spell focus for her brother, who’s a mage himself. I’ve done telescopes, I’ve done sell foci, you think this would be easy then? Nope! She also wanted the focus to be a range-extender for spells.”

“So a sniper scope but for magic.” Martyn interrupts. Ren gives him a confused look and he elaborates. “Some crossbows use them. They help with aiming at far away things. You can mess with them to focus on shorter or farther distances.”

“Right, that,” Ren nods, “Well, I hadn’t done a range extender before but I knew how the runes work so I accepted the commission. Little did I know that almost two weeks later and I still can’t get the runes to work together! I’ve inscribed the runic circles more than twenty times and the runes just won’t work together! I have to keep mending the focus and trying again! It’s almost enough to drive this dog mad! I am exhausted, man! I’m so close to just refunding the commission and letting some other sorry fool try their hands at it!” Ren threw his hand out towards the cityscape, as if flinging his problems at his competition.

“Why don’t the runic circles mesh?” Martyn prompted.

“I don’t know!” Ren glared at the offending cylinder. It would probably be sweating at the force of his glare, if tubes could sweat. “It could be the umbral circuitry or the spacial runes or maybe even the arcane lateral lines-“ He stops mid-sentence. Puzzle pieces connect in his brain, forming the answer to his problem.

“That's it!” Ren snaps his free hand. His tail was wagging hard as he zeroes in on the arcane runes, eyes flicking back and forth as he calculates exactly how to fix them. He picks back up his scribing knife, nearly cutting his own hand in his haste, and activating the mending spell in it to reset half the runes he’d already carved. Now, it's only a matter of engraving the new set in and boom! He’s done with this hellish job.

Martyn settles back into his seat, going back to marking down interesting places on his map.

However, he doesn’t get very much done with that, because as soon as Ren scribbles that final rune into the circle and watches it click together, he whoops loudly and yanks Martyn into a tight hug. Martyn yelps in surprise but doesn’t pull away. He’s used to Ren’s success hugs by now.

“You are a genius and the best boyfriend ever!” Ren exclaims, giving Martyn a quick peck on the cheek just because he can.

He doesn’t even care if Martyn protests because Ren knows he’s right! Martyn is the best boyfriend of all time and that’s objectively true. Bias who?

Ren’s really glad he said yes when Martyn asked him out. He had not expected it at all but in hindsight it made sense. Martyn having feelings for Ren was unexpected but not bad by any means! And even though Ren doesn’t really do the whole romantic-feelings stuff, he still likes Martyn as a person and at the time dating Martyn sounded nice. Dating’s just spending time with a person, getting to know them better, and getting closer with the added bonus of extra affectionate gestures. Ren loves affectionate gestures!

Originally, Ren had been worried Martyn wouldn’t understand him being aromantic or just think Ren was rejecting him or leading him on, but after a few questions at the cafe Martyn got it. It was a relief when he just accepted that this was how Ren was and didn’t make any comments about Ren changing his mind or not knowing himself well enough. Martyn just clarified whether or not they’d be dating and if they’d be boyfriends or partners if they did and a few other boundaries. It was really nice actually.

And now he’s dating Martyn! Ren’s always liked the idea of being in a relationship, even if he’s never felt the emotions that normally come with it. He likes dating Martyn a lot. He gets to surprise Martyn with hugs and kisses and dramatic gestures, like poetry (Martyn may have laughed at Ren’s first attempt at a poem, but that was probably because he orated it all in a pirate accent. The second try he dropped the accent. Went much better, trust him). Dating’s also good because he just gets to know Martyn better now and he thinks Martyn knows him too. Your romantic partner is someone you can be emotionally honest to and Ren’s found it relieving to just say what’s on his mind. That is, more than he already does.

Also Martyn lives with him and Ren gets to cuddle him every night. Probably one of the biggest benefits of all.

But now, in the present, Martyn’s unaware of Ren’s inner exposition and is instead still reacting to the compliment. He’s trying to stay cool but is obviously flustered. Martyn’s a bit weak to genuine compliments, something that Ren delights in exploiting.

“I know that, you tell me it often-“

Martyn’s interrupted by Ren loudly going “And I’ll say it again!” Martyn snorts as Ren realizes how loud he yelled and his ears fold back in admonishment. “Apologies, dude, go on.”

Martyn rolls his eyes fondly, “I was saying that I know that I’m the best boyfriend, you tell me it often, but also that your scribing knife is way too close to my ribs for comfort.”

Ren looked down and realized he hadn’t actually set down the scribing knife like he thought he had. Instead he had hugged Martyn while it was still in his hands. ”Ack, sorry dude.” Ren pulls the knife away and sets it back down on the table. “I was not paying attention to my hands like, at all. Just so excited about finally finishing this darn awful commission. Literally, the worst, my dude. You’re a big help with it.”

“I really didn’t do anything but be a wall for you to bounce your own thoughts off but alright.” Ren opened his mouth to loudly retort that Martyn was a key part of him solving this problem but Martyn wasn’t done, “Though, you probably could have solved that sooner if you actually had a light out here.” Martyn flings his hand around, gesturing to the now dark patio.

“Martyn!” Ren huffs in offense. Martyn cackles. This is an old argument that Martyn has to bring up every. Single. Time. Ren prepares his comeback. “I can see just fine by the setting sun, we have gone over this!”

“You’re straining your eyes! I’m telling you dude, you’re going to need glasses at this rate. I don’t think you could pull it off.” Martyn shakes his head sadly, like it was a tragedy that Ren wouldn’t look good in glasses

“I already have glasses.” Ren points at his sunglasses, resting snugly on his head. “If they need to fix my eyesight, they can just enchant these. But!” Ren interrupts Martyn’s next retort. “But, I wouldn’t need glasses anyways because I can see perfectly fine at night anyways! Checkmate.”

Martyn’s mouth ticks up at Ren’s antics. Score one for Rendog! “I don’t think you can scribe by moonlight.”

“I’m a werewolf, I think I can.” Ren points out as he looks up “Speaking of the moon and my lycanthropy, I think its nearing the time for me to get a lot more fluffier.”

“So soon? Wow, I must have lost track of the time.” Martyn looks up as well. The moon is cresting over the city, casting its silver glow over it. The lights reflect in Martyn’s eyes as they soften, seeing something in that ethereal sphere that Ren does not.

“She looks beautiful tonight.” Martyn says reverently.

Ren glances between Martyn and the moon. “Who?”

Martyn scoffs, not unkindly but more surprised, like he thought Ren already knew who he was referring to. “Our lady, of course. Who else would I be talking about, Shadowhound”

Shadowhound. Why is that clicking in Ren’s head? He feels like he’s making a puzzle and had finished the border, but has no idea how to complete the rest of the picture.

Still, it’s an interesting word. A title, probably? Very dramatic, Ren likes it. Feels like a name he would have picked if he went into the assassin business.

Or a name assigned to him when he joined a secret organization. That one seems a bit wild but also the most correct

“Shadowhound.” Ren muses out loud. Martyn finally looks over at him, blinking fast like he looked at the sun for too long and is still seeing the afterimage in his eyes. His eyes go wide as he seems to register how he’d been acting and what he’s said specifically.

““I… don’t know where that came from. What the hell?” Martyn hisses under his breath. His hands clench around nothing and Ren offers his own so Martyn would have something to squeeze. He takes it.

“It sounded familiar. Rung some bells in my head.” Ren scratches at the base of his ears, trying to think more on the name Shadowhand. Whatever effect the name Shadowhand had on him, it's gone now. The name just sounds cool, no deja vu or odd premonitions.

Martyn shakes his head. “That’s so weird. I mean, why would you find the weird almost-memories in my head familiar? Unless…” He trails off, his grip on Ren’s hand getting tighter. Ren connects the dots soon after.

“Hear me out, and I know this sounds crazy,” Ren starts, “But what if we lived past lives together. I know, crazy idea, but think about it.”

Martyn does. His brow furrows and he shifts uncomfortably. Ren’s a bit worried that he’ll pull away and just leave but instead he shifts close to Ren, still holding his hand.

“We never talked about it but do you ever feel like we know more about each other than we should? Like, it's impossible for us to know but it feels true? You know what I mean, right?” Ren continues, thinking of all the times he’s made something for Martyn on a whim and only later found out that it's his favorite. Or when Martyn always makes poisons in another room from Ren, because the smells bother him, even though Ren knows he’s never told him that?

More pieces begin to fall together.

Martyn furrows his brows. “Yeah… I get that.” He puts a hand to his forehead. “Gods, what even is this? Why is this happening?”

Ren gives Martyn’s hand another squeeze for comfort. “I’m not sure, but I have some ideas. Well, one main idea.”

“I’m all ears.”

“What if, hear me out, we’re soulmates?” Ren proposes.

A disbelieving laugh leaves Martyn’s lips. “Really? Like, we’re destined for each other?” Ren can tell Martyn doesn’t believe him, that he thinks Ren’s joking, but really it all makes sense.

“I mean, yeah!” Ren says, to Martyn’s confusion. “Think about it, dude. These flashes of memories could be from our other lives! Think of how many soulmate legends have them living many lives over and over again, but they still find each other! And what better way to be able to find each other than to have bits of memories of the life you already lived together! I know it sounds crazy but I think it could be true.”

“Ok, but what if I’m not really a destiny guy?” Martyn shakes his head. “Yeah, I don’t think this is it. I mean, it does make sense but…” He looks away. “I don’t know if I like the idea of the universe toying with us.”

Its Ren’s turn to furrow his brow. That’s not the vibes he got from this at all. This seems less like the universe toying with people and rather the universe being kind to those who found someone special. It seems beautiful and profound.

But Martyn’s distrusting by nature, Ren knows this. Even with the maybe-destined nature of their meeting, Ren can still remember how closed off he was. It makes sense for him to distrust the concept of soulmates.

So Ren will just have to bring him around to it.

“But what if it was? Hypothetically!” Ren adds on when Martyn goes to scoff. “Just let me try and explain, please?”

Martyn hums. “You seem really passionate about this so I guess I’ll listen.”

Ren pumps his free fist. “Thank you dude! You will not regret it!” Ren pulls out his storytelling voice. “Alright, imagine if you will, us. Us, from long ago. And we were close, close like we are now, but something happened. A war maybe,” Ren gets a hint of a memory, one of fighting alongside someone in green. He’s on the right track. “This war, it seemed never-ending. We fought for victory but we were losing. When we died,” Out of the corner of his eye, Ren sees Martyn wince, as if feeling a phantom pain, “When we died, our souls didn’t want to move on. We tried to stay together and as a compromise, the universe agreed to let us be reborn again. We’ve lived a few lives before this one,” Ren knows this, knows because he’s dreamt of dying far too many times for it to just have happened once, “and in all those lives we never really could make it work. Something always came up. But here, in this now, we can.”

Ren knows he’s probably wrong about some stuff but he feels, deep in his soul, that he’s got enough right to convince Martyn.

Martyn, who’s massaging his forehead with his free hand. Martyn, who squeezes Ren’s hand as he thinks over everything.

“I know it’s a lot.” Ren says gently. Truly, it is. This information could change everything; but it doesn’t have to. Ren thinks, no he knows, that the universe doesn’t want to split them up. It wants this to work out between them. “Its a lot and I’ll understand if you need space to think it over. If you want, we can drop it for now. But if you instead want to talk about it, we can”

It’s all Ren can do, extend the olive branch and hope Martyn grabs the other end.

Thankfully, he does

“Maybe… maybe that is possible. Maybe it’s true even. Most likely is, but I can keep a healthy amount of denial for now. As a treat.” Martyn smiles as Ren laughs. He sobers up. “Still don’t like destiny and all that, but the universe stepping in to give us another chance? That sounds good. That sounds right.”

Martyn pauses and looks down at thier joined hands. “I can accept fate, if it means I’ll keep finding you in all my lives forever.”

Ren awws. “I knew you loved me dude!” Overcome with emotion, he cups Martyn’s face in his hands.

To Ren’s delight, Martyn rolls his eyes and, super fondly, whispers, “Of course. Isn’t that obvious by now?” He says it sarcastically but even sarcasm can’t hide true emotional depth.

“Very.” Ren bonks his head lightly against Martyn’s “You’re a sap and I like you very much.”

“I feel like calling a dryad sappy might be a low shot pun-wise, even for you.” Martyn monotones while his face flushes.

“Wasn’t even intentional but I am so glad you pointed that out!” Ren cheers.

Martyn groans. “I really need to stop encouraging you.”

“But you love me!” Ren singsongs before he pulls Martyn down and kisses the crown of his head. He’s careful to avoid escaping his face against Martyn’s bark-covered horns but tiny blooms sprouting from the branches brush against his face. If he remembers right, Martyn said some time ago that they’re dogwood blossoms. Ren wonders if Martyn’s had those in every other life or the universe has a sense of humor

Leaning into the touch, Martyn sighs and goes limp, hiding a smile. Ren smiles against his hair, counting this as a win. His prize? Being able to hold his boyfriend.

The two of them probably could have stayed there longer, leaning into each other as the cool night air grew colder, but a large yawn from Ren interrupts the moment.

’Sorry, guess all this talk of fate and past lives is making me sleepy. No one tells you how exhausting being emotionally honest is.”

“True,” Martyn’s cut off by his own yawn. “No more talk about the universe and its whims, we’re going inside so that we can actually get a good night’s sleep in before the full moon forces you to do an all-nighter.” He stands up, stretching his back. Ren still sits there, limply flopping against the loveseat half because he’s tired and hard because he wants to see if Martyn helps him up.

He does.

Well, Martyn yanks Ren to his feet and then catches him before he can go head over heels over the railing. Ren considers that help.

Ren puts his weight onto Martyn and Martyn pushes back. It doesn’t evolve into a shoving match, they’re both too tired for that. Instead, they use each other as support to walk to the door.

Martyn opens it and steps inside, hand still linked with Ren’s.

Ren takes one last look at the moon before he shuts it behind them both.

The universe, beyond its veil of four walls, smiles. It is as content as a primordial being can be. Threads of many colors stretch around it, connecting people in many ways.

And one of these threads, sturdy and light, twists around Ren and Martyn, curled together in their shared bed.

Ren kicks in his sleep; Martyn snores.

They never let go of each-other’s hands.

Never have they been more happy.

And the universe closes the story, because it knows this tale will go on without its help.

Again and again, those two swore.

They’ll make it work.