Chapter Text
It is the midsummer fair in Katolis and the day has dawned bright and blue. It looks like one of the pastoral paintings that hang in the city’s royal castle. She will be going to the fair with Viren and the thought of it makes her smile.
It’s nothing serious, they have skirted around each other these past few months like two carefully matched opponents in a game of chess. Viren will make his move, all suave sophistication, Lissa will make a neutral counter, she enjoys the game, it’s just a little fun.
He arrives as always precisely on time, takes her arm and walks with her among the crowds of people who are milling towards the city common. On the way he tells her about the origins of the fair, the way summer would bring the travellers from beyond Mount Kalik to the capital to ply their trades and sell their wares, and over the centuries it has grown, become days of festivities, entertainment and music. He is certain she will like it, his own excitement is a little contagious.
It is nice to walk beside him and listen to him talk, the sun shines warmly on their necks and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Her mother has warned her about good looking young men who seem too good to be true though, and she hears her voice in her head.
They have so many weaknesses, never fall for one who seems flawless. They never are, better to know his faults up front. Be careful, it’s the perfect ones you need to be wary of.
Her mother ought to know, and Viren is just a little too good to be true. He is handsome, has impeccable manners, takes an earnest interest in her, and there is something she loves about the soft way he smiles at her.
All of it utterly compelling.
He is always kind, always thoughtful, he never really reveals a weakness.
Still, there is no reason not to enjoy the day with him, not to laugh at the jugglers and clowns who perform their tricks among the flocks of people, not to eat the little cones of spiced nuts and spun sugar, not to walk hand in hand away from the crowds to sit sprawled under the shade of an old oak tree with a bottle of wine he has bought.
They listen to a group of musicians who have set up on one of the many small stages a little way down the slope and he regales her with amusing stories about the court of Katolis and the adventures he has had with the young prince Harrow. It is all very funny, the wine is excellent, and she hears her mother’s voice.
Be careful.
She tells him about the festival of ice they have in Del Bar, the way they sculpt buildings and animals and scenes from stories out of great blocks of ice and they will stand for months in the winter cold. She tells him the stories of the goblins of the Hinterpeak who awaken with the frosts, and the tricks they play on unsuspecting locals and he smiles and fills her cup, and like a well cut diamond he hides his flaws.
Then he yawns and she laughs.
“Am I boring you?”
“No, absolutely, not in the least, sorry… I had a late night.”
“I know, I know brewing all those mysterious concoctions with Kpp’Ar, what were you doing this time?”
He shakes his head, “You won’t believe me, but he was trying to find a liquid that will scourge blood stains out of clothes. His own. Honestly, it’s better not to ask.” A second yawn overtakes him and he sighs. “I’m really sorry.”
He rubs his eyes and shrugs at her.
“It’s alright, why don’t you lie down, I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, I can listen to the music, it’s fine, go on.”
“Oh, okay thanks.” He smiles then, lies back on the grass beside her, hands behind his head and for a while she watches the festivities of the summer fair go on in the fields below them. The couples holding hands, the children running between the stalls, a kite flying high in the blue sky. Music drifts slowly and mingles with the shouts and laughter of the crowds that are carried on the air.
When she looks at Viren she can see the steady rise and fall of his chest, his face is still and her mother’s words come back again, stronger now.
Be careful... be careful... be careful.
There is something a little too perfect about this man who reflects all things like a polished mirror, who smiles and listens, inclines his head towards her and doesn’t quite reveal himself. It’s a shame, she really does like him an awful lot.
She picks at the flowers beside her, spins their stalks between her fingers.
Nothing is perfect.
In a few more weeks she will go back to Del Bar and she will remember this man, she will sit and think of the summer fair and the way he lay beside her, sleeping on the grass.
Asleep he looks not much older than the boy he must have been, face soft, the shadow that flits across it, the twitch at his lips. The oak leaves lay their shade dappled across his skin, the grass ripples in the summer breeze and brushes his brown hair.
He is dreaming, for a moment he shudders and she can see the dream distort his features, the growing alarm of him. He twists and turns and she takes his head in her hands.
There are words on his lips that don’t quite form, the swallow of his throat as if he’s trying to digest something harsh and unpalatable and fear is written there. She tries to wake him, to pull him back from the nightmare.
“Viren?”
She shakes him and he writhes from her.
“Viren…”
His body tenses, she watches the strange wash of emotions pass over him, feels the tint of his fear slip into her. His mouth opens as if he will scream but no sound comes out and his neck goes taut with the effort of it, every sinew a harsh line, like they will try and burst from out of his skin.
“Viren! Wake up.”
She shakes him harder and he wakes up gasping, rolls into her coughing and choking and shaking his head.
He lies on his stomach, hands over his eyes and she pulls him towards her, helps him up and takes him into her arms. It seems to take a long time for his breathing to subside, for the hammering in his chest to regulate back into its normal rhythm and his hands grip her hair as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear.
She strokes his back slowly, she has always been calm in times of trouble and she is now, she murmurs reassurances in his ear and waits for him to pull away. He does eventually, stares at his boots, the faint red heat of embarrassment across his pale cheeks.
“Are you okay?”
For a long time he looks at her as if he’s weighing up what to say before he shakes his head.
“I... I... no. Not really.” It catches in his throat and the perfect image of him shatters as she feels the sob escape him.
“You can tell me if you want? Maybe I can help.”
He stares, wide eyed and uncertain and she puts her hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, I wanted you to... I wanted this to be special.”
“It doesn’t matter, honestly Viren. What did you dream?”
He shudders then and she moves closer to him, lets her body slide in beside his, slips her knees against his and strokes the hair around his ear.
“Please, you can tell me.”
He shuts his eyes. Starts slowly at first, as if he isn’t sure of the right words to use.
“I always have the same dream... I dream that I’m losing myself, it started when I was just a boy.” He swallows, and his hands clench and unclench. “There is a monster, he hides in the shadows and he comes for me, he looks so terrifying, nothing like a human at all...” Even now, retelling it, the panic seems to return to him, and his body tenses. “It’s always the same Lissa, the years pass and it’s always the same, always his shadow I see over me, but now I know his face, I look in the mirror and I see him there staring back at me. The monster is me... it was always me.”
He puts his face in his hands and his shoulders shake.
“I’m scared Lissa... I’m so scared that he’s what’s inside of me, that I’ll turn into that...”
“Viren...” It isn’t at all what she had expected and she is filled with an odd tender feeling for him. All his smooth exterior is peeled away, all the poise in him evaporated, replaced by fear and doubt and she puts her arms around him, lets him cry on her shoulder.
“I don’t think that’s you at all.”
“I feel like there’s a poison in me, that it will destroy everything I touch. There are times... times I feel so helpless and I don’t know what to do.”
His voice is muffled against the fabric of her blouse and she takes his head in her hands.
“It’s okay to feel scared Viren, it’s okay to need a little help, we all do.”
The branches of the oak tree sway above them in the breeze, she can hear the rustle of their leaves brushing together, smell the musk of the shampoo he uses on his hair and she kisses him, wipes the tears from his cheeks.
“It’s okay.”
He stares at her and the shade of an uncertain smile plays at his lips.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this, but... I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad too, I don’t want you to feel like you’re on your own, because you’re not, you can always talk to me. I’ll always help you.”
“I’m sorry, I wanted today to be perfect for you. The thing is Lissa, the thing is I know you’re going back to Del Bar soon and I wanted...” he shrugs and sighs. “Well it didn’t go the way I’d planned.”
“Viren, you know it doesn’t have to be perfect. Life isn’t perfect, you don’t have to be perfect. I don’t think I could really like you if you were.”
He looks at her from under his dark lashes.
“Do you think you could like me this way then?”
“Yes.” She says it softly, let’s herself believe it absolutely at last. “I do like you very much.”
“Okay.” He swallows, fumbles in his pocket, takes her hand in his and presses something into it. “Do you think perhaps you might like to stay, here in Katolis with me?”
She opens her palm. There is a silver ring sitting on it, a small garnet set in the band, it isn’t at all ostentatious, it isn’t quite what she might have imagined he would choose. It is exactly what she might have chosen though. He looks at her and she can see the little flecks of colour in his grey eyes, the dark pupil at their centre, this little hole right into the very soul of him.
He isn’t perfect, she can see all the flaws in him now, but flaws are something she understands, she has flaws of her own.
“I think perhaps I might like that.”
He smiles and leans forward then, catches her chin with his hand and kisses her back.