Work Text:
It looks like she’s allowed to pull an all-nighter in the library since the librarian didn’t chase her out this time. Well, it doesn’t help that she tucks herself in a hidden spot and ducks away when she hears the librarian making his patrol. It’ll be fine. Helen has always treated these books quite well. Practically worshipping them with how much care she puts in to not even bend the corner of a page. She just wants to finish up her latest medical research and present it to Eclectic and the Count. To prove that their kindness is not wasted all these years!
Absorbed in scribbling down notes on the side while her eyes rapidly read and digest each word on her current book, Helen has almost forgot her surroundings. Not that it’s dangerous here. Sure, there are some powerful beasts and creatures living in town, but everyone keeps in check under the Count’s rule. The library, in fact, belongs to the Count. No one would dare create a murder scene on his property to say the least. Not unless they want to be the next one. So Helen doesn’t have to worry about anything happening to her.
“If you bury your nose into that book any further, one would think you are kissing it, dear Helen.”
She lets out a startled scream at the breathy whisper in her ear, her hand knocking the inkwell onto the floor and her notes flying into the air as she leaps up from her seat. Hand on her beating chest, she breathes rapidly as she turns around then softly groans when she sees whom the perpetrator is. “Quinlan! What in the world— Don’t sneak up me on like that. You already know I get scared easily when I’m busy!”
Helen goes to grab her notes on the floor, inwardly wincing upon seeing the black mess from the spilled ink on the now stained ground. Forget it, the librarian will ban her from coming here ever again. She turns to glare at the person whose fault caused this in the first place. Then she blinks at a rare ever so serious expression. Not even his usual, playful quip is thrown at her way.
“Quinlan? Is something the matter?” Concerned, she stopped midway picking up the scattered parchments. Helen stands up and places her notes onto the desk almost without looking. “What’s with the dreary face?”
“Helen. I’m leaving to the northern forest tonight.”
She blinks again in stunned silence, almost wondering if she misheard what he just said. Quinlan leaving here? It’s not like she expected him to stay forever if he has the desire to find a new journey. But she and him have been childhood friends, and it’s sudden to even say he’ll leave tonight when he never expressed any interest up there at all.
“I… I heard my mother might be there.”
Oh.
He continues. His hands fumble awkwardly together in front of him, “I have to go there. I need to make sure if the information is true.”
Helen dumbfoundedly nods. Of course. Quinlan is an orphan like her. So naturally, he would want to find his family again. In fact, he appeared one night so many years ago in this library when the Count was showing her here for the first time. It was such a strange appearance. Helen very faintly remembers a woman being with him, however it wasn’t his mother. She is sure of that. She doesn’t remember too much of that night other than her and Quinlan first meeting.
“I just thought… I should let you know.”
His voice snaps out of her thoughts. He said that, yet he’s looking at her almost expectantly to say something. No, he’s looking at her with some hope for a certain response. Is he asking her…?
She bites her lips. “I have to continue my studies, Quinlan…”
“I know.” Helen didn’t miss the faint disappointment in his eyes.
There is an awkward silence before Quinlan offers her the familiar charming smile he usually wears, “But surely your studies can wait a little bit to say goodbye to an old friend? Why, I may get eaten by a fearsome beast and you may never see me again!”
“Well, I’m sure that beast will throw you back right up once he realizes you talk too much in his belly!” Helen turns away to finish picking up her notes, finding it suddenly unbearable to look at his face. Her hands roughly snatch the remaining papers on the ground. “In fact, he might toss you out of his forest for being a noisy, irate, dumb—”
“My dear Helen, you’ll wound me with your sharp tongue.”
“—irresponsible, lofty man! Coming in the middle of the night in middle of my research with news to ruin my day and worry for you! It’s just like you, Quinlan.”
“I know, my dear Helen, I am an irresistible man. The heartthrob of the town.”
“Heartthrob?! You mean heartache! I swear my lifespan is shortened every time you get into some kind of mischief!”
“Helen. My sweet lovely Helen, your barbed words will only make this upcoming journey bittersweet if this is all I have to remember as our last night!” He jokingly pokes at her while trying to tug her up to stop cleaning. She stubbornly looks to the side as she clutches the messy papers to her chest. “A frown on your face does not suit you on this lovely moonlit night. Come on now, won’t you smile for me?”
Furious, she tosses the stack of paper to his face, scattering her hard work once again into the air and ground. Quinlan, however, seems to take this action in a stride with only a sigh. There is another moment of silence before Helen couldn’t bear it. Her arms immediately wrap around his waist as she buries her face against his chest all the while willing herself not to cry.
“You’ll be careful, won’t you?”
“Of course. Not even a scratch on my nose.”
“You won’t get eaten by any wild beast?”
“I’ll run with my tail tucked between my legs if I see even a hair of them.”
“Q-Quinlan, you’ll come back, w-won’t you?”
“Of course, my dearest Helen. I’ll come back.”
She feels one of his arms wrap around her waist while the other hand gently strokes and pets her head. His throat utters a soft hum. This only urges her to begin crying despite her desperate attempt not to. She didn’t want a sobbing, snotty face to be the thing that Quinlan last remembers of her before he leaves. Thinking that only further cements how serious her friend is about leaving. The possibility she may never see him again only causes her to cry even harder.
Suddenly, she feels Quinlan trying to usher her to walk even as her teary vision is all blurry. She covers her face but allow him to guide her to wherever he is taking them.
“I always knew the library would drive you mad. I would say it’s time for a tea break! Let’s get your studies and your books all in this bag. There we go. Oh! Hello there, my good librarian! Helen is not feeling well. Going to take her some fresh air. She’ll be borrowing these books. Well, will you look at the time, we better hurry off!”
For some reason, the loud screeching of the librarian once he realizes the mess left behind and Quinlan rushing her out of the place actually makes her laugh through her tears. Indeed, the cool autumn air feels so much nicer. It makes her head think less of the impending emptiness that Quinlan will soon leave her with. It's a little less painful. Just a bit.
She sniffles and rubs her tears with her arm before Quinlan offers her a handkerchief. Without bashfulness, she grabs the offered item and cleans her face all while she blindly walking with him. The growing quietness is the only indication that they’re moving away from the center to the edge of town. Right to a path that will leave their hometown and her.
-x-x-
They finally stop walking. Her side feels cold as Quinlan moves away from her, offering her bag back to her. A bag full of bulging books and notes hazardously shoved in. Helen sighs as she takes it and shuffles through her handbag, “I can’t believe you’ll get me ban from the library on the day you’re leaving. I’ve lost my closest friend. Now I will lose my research. How will I ever continue my studies?”
“Oh please, Helen. I’m sure if you tell to the Count that I found a new trick of exploding ink was a new trend, he’ll let you right back in.”
“And send hunting hounds to bring you back before you step a foot into the northern forest? I’ll save you the embarrassment and let you finish your quest.”
“Why, Helen, you’ll do that for me? Truly, I knew I can always count on you!”
Helen clicks her tongue in annoyance at his cheery tone. Ah, there it is. She pulls out a bag full of small vials. He looks curiously at her when she offers it to him. “Take this. It’s some medicine that should lower your presence in case you’re chased by some creatures you can’t easily get away from.”
He brightens up, happily taking the offered gift. She lets out a squawk when he tosses the bag into the air, before it disappears. Likely his own magic hiding it away for future use. However, he suddenly bows with an arm behind his back and another hand offering her an envelope between his fingers.
“I, too, have a gift for you! I’m not some uncouth ruffian to not give something in return.”
Taking the letter from his hand, she shakes her head with some exasperation and fondness. When she curiously turns the envelope around, raising an eyebrow when she sees the Count’s red wax seal on it. However, there is no indication of what the contents are. Curiously, she opens the envelope to pulls out a document to read it. Her face turns red.
“Q-Q-Quinlan?! What is this?!”
“I must say the name Helen Duncan certainly has a nice ring to it.”
“Why did you get us a marriage certificate?!”
“Hmm? Well, the Duncans are a well-known witch clan. And, as an upcoming talent yourself, Helen, having such backing will be a great start to your budding career! Of course, all it needs is your signature. I wouldn’t force you to be a widow if I do happen to get eaten by a terrible hungry beast, so do as you please.”
“Quinlan!”
“Yes, my cute fiancée?”
Helen gapes at him at the casual behavior he exhibits, as if this is the most rational decision to be made. She looks down at the document with Quinlan’s wild signature along neatly print with the Count’s approval. There is an empty spot waiting for her own handwritten signature. It’s… It’s not a confession of sorts, right? And it’s not uncommon for marriages to be used as a matter of convenience. And indeed, having a well-known clan name will give her both status and protection if she ever chooses to go beyond the Count’s land.
“You’re always looking out for me even if you’re going to fly away…” Quinlan’s face looks almost bashfully sheepish for a second in response to her words. “Well, you won’t leave me as a widow anytime soon, right?”
“My dear Helen, I would never!”
With an answer to satisfy her, she squats down and hastily grabs her remaining inkwell, pen, and one of the library books in her bag. Ones that Quinlan borrowed in her name apparently when they chased out earlier. To make sure it doesn’t ruin the unknown book with a star crest, she allows an envelope to be sandwiched by the tome and marriage document. Not as neatly as the Count’s yet not terribly messy as Quinlan’s, Helen prints her own name onto the paper.
The ink still needs to dry so Helen remains holding the paper against the book as she stands up once more. Quinlan merely glances at it before nodding in approval, “I can see it now. The famous doctor Helen Duncan. My, I can’t wait to come back already.”
“You don’t have to—” Helen stops, and reluctantly holds her remaining words. Finding his mother again, or at least knowing what happened to her, means the world to Quinlan. This she knows after him admitting such vulnerable wishes to her over many years. She can’t beg him to not go and leave him always wondering.
Seeing how much she holds back, Quinlan offers her a rare grateful expression. He carefully tugs one of her hands and lifts it up. Helen can feel the tip of her ears burning red and her heart pounding madly, when he presses his lips on top of her skin.
“I best be off, Helen. I’ll see you again.”
She bites her lips and swallows her tears threatening to come again, “Yes… Take care, Quinlan.”
Her hand clutches his when he tries to slip away. Only for a brief moment. Then she reluctantly lets him go. She presses the kissed hand to her chest, keeping it safe. Their stares to each other were harder to break, but Quinlan does so for them by turning around and starting his walk into the darkness. A part of her hoped he would turn around to her again, but he doesn’t. Helen continues watching him, even when she no longer sees his figure in the distance. It feels like a surreal dream, but looking down the parchment in her hands solidifies the promise that the two will see each other again someday.
