Chapter Text
Eirwyn hated the laughter in the tavern. Its only purpose was to keep him awake. He’d be lying if he said that was the only thing keeping him awake.
The still body of buzz haunted him. The memories of the searing pain of sudden horn growth echoed. His own faults suddenly clawed to the forefront of his mind. The distant smell of fireplace smoke was his final straw.
The sounds of hollow bones clicking together was something Eirwyn was going to have to get used to as he leaned over to lace up his heels. As he reached for the door handle, his heart twinged. And there was the little girl draped in red again, stuck in the study, being told to wait for the demon to come. He looked towards Buzz, sighing probably louder than he should have. He looked to his cloak, then to the window. The snowstorm raged on. He took it off the hook and laid it over Buzz, bee folk shouldn’t be this high in the mountain. But something still felt missing. Waking her up for a proper apology would probably only lead to more issues. He thought for a moment, he really didn’t want to but, it would suffice for now. Carefully he slipped off the beaded bracelet he had tucked under his sleeves and onto her wrist. The bracelet with all of its bright colors and delicate pearlescent beading would have cost a fortune back then. Not that Buzz would have a clue. He’d come to the conclusion that mortals had long since forgotten him. Maybe for the better.
Finally, Eirwyn slipped his way downstairs, rowdy drunken men and women laughed, sharing slurred stories. Warmed by a fire chomping down on another log as a man threw it into the fireplace. Eirwyn rolled his eyes, pushing past the final door as a bell rang above it signaling his escape. Just before the door shut, he heard someone call out for him to take a coat. They act like this is the first time he’s been in a snowstorm. He scoffed at them.
The moon along with a couple street lamps is what gave him the light to see. But with the streets so full of snow it didn’t matter much where you stepped. He hated it here. The others might think he’d love it here. A man of cold in a cold environment. The cold holds memories. The cold holds bodies. Bodies probably like his frozen in time, unable to escape and long since dead. He made sure to watch his step.
Eirwyn let his mind clear, focused on how his heels sunk into the snow or how the constellations remained the same after so many years, recalling all their names. These were incorrect names. For someone with a warmer body had leaned into him on a slightly less than freezing winter night and whispered into his ear made-up stories as he laughed.
When Eirwyn blinked, he was at the foot of the hill where the lookout point was. Somehow as if by pure muscle memory. He swore under his breath at himself. No matter what he couldn’t keep outrunning himself for the past was far to fast. He rubbed up his arms, arms crossed as if to keep him warm. He knew he was truly trying to wipe away his guilt but the cold was easier to lie about.
Footsteps crunched behind him, back towards the city as a ghost of a name was called out. Eirwyns ears twitched at the name. Although he couldn’t make it out over the wind, something in him did. Something about the voice seemed so sweet like the smell of a fresh berry pie cooling on a windowsill.
Eirwyns head turned to the call, but the snow made it impossible to see. He called out, a laugh responded with a “Over this way!” Without thought he followed, like a dog to its owner. Loyalty till death and maybe then some.
The voice echoed in the alleyways, around corners, always just out of view. But all his luck, footsteps were all too obvious in the snow. He chuckled to himself. He really should have known this by now, that’s how he always got caught by the guards. Their game of chase kept Eirwyn giggling. He always loved to try to sneak around but it was hard when you are 8ft tall dressed in green. He had always stuck out like green grass in the summer after the snow had melted.
Eirwyn didn't stop when he saw the warm green head into the dark woods. He didn’t stop to realize he was almost translucent. For the first time In a long time, he had felt warm, like a blanket had been wrapped around him as they just lay there like they used to.
Eirwyn could just make him out in the trees. The moon lending some help but not enough. Tree branches often stole the view Eirwyn was supposed to have. But the sweet melody of “Montegue,” long and drawn out, was like a siren song.
Eirwyn began to stumble, heels catching in roots overgrown. “Joktan slow down!” Joktan only disappeared once again. But Eirwyns eyelids were getting heavy as he realized how long he’d been up. How long he’d been fighting. He wanted nothing more than to collapse in his arms again and for Joktan to call Eirwyn his again.
With a crack like thunder, he fell forward. Landing face first into the dirt. He could feel as blood began to flow down his neck as his hair became wet. He screamed, reaching out as Joktan slipped deeper into the woods.
“God, would you shut up old man? It’s an illusion for fucks sake. It’s not real.”
Still, Eirwyn reached out. Joktan would be right there around the corner waiting for him. Joktan would come save him as he’d always done. Joktan would swoop him up just to pepper him with kisses promising him nothing but the world. Eirwyn gripped at the dirt, pulling himself forward. He just had to make it there.
His vision began to blacken at the edges, still trying to claw forward, whimpering before the weight on his back grumbled something and hit him again.
Why wasn’t Joktan coming back?