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I Love You (15 times Maria didn't know, and 4 times she did)

Summary:

Maria may have only known Bran for one and a half months, but it was love at first sight (well, 'first meeting' for the blind sorceress). But the thing about love is that it's, well... blind.

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One

Corodun is the place where this love story starts.

Maria steps out of the sun and into the smaller streets of Corodun, heading towards the sound of a lute when she hears a voice greet her. “Enjoying the music?”

“Quite,” she replies politely. “I don’t recognise the song, is it one of yours?”

“Of course it is!” the musician replies instantly, his voice that of a half-elf like herself. “I am the greatest there ever was, why would I play something that everyone has heard before?”

The banter is what Maria loves, and the bard conceding to her wit is no small feat. She is rewarded by the exchanging of names which gives an identity - Bran - to this new voice in her world. And her opinion of this voice only grows when he refers to Abra as an “adorable fox”.

The lute’s song shifts to lighter notes and Maria cannot help but smile more. “Whoever your master was, he taught you to play well. That is a lute, is it not?”

“Why yes it is. And thank you for the compliment.”

I enjoy your quick wit and your kindness. It’s refreshing.

 

Two

Maria meets some of the others in the party - Amros and Yorsog, she will learn their names to be - and Bran’s hand on her arm steadies her after their altercation with the locals.

For a bard, Bran’s words are not thought out in full. "Well I'm sorry to put you in danger, Maria I…”

His voice trails off, but Maria gives a small laugh to fill the silence. “On the contrary, it was a welcome change.” And she means it.

"Really? Well if you ever feel like going on an adventure you are welcome to accompany us.”

I’ve only just met you, but I trust you.

 

Three

Maria follows Abra into the attic of the tavern, meeting voices she’s unfamiliar with but she’s greeted and invited up anyway. She had followed the sounds of the flute which are playing in an intricate way that reminds her of the song on the lute. The flute suddenly stops and light footfalls move over to her, followed by a voice.

"You rested well?" Bran asks.

Maria can’t stop the relief from flooding through her and out her smile. "It was you playing the music. I slept well, thank you. How did your task go?"

I like that you include me. I like that you make me feel special.

 

Four

"Maria! How was the lesson, learn anything interesting?"

Bran’s sudden voice close-by startles her and her spell disappears as she jumps. "Bran, you scared me," she says with a laugh. "It was... interesting, I think Chi and... Amros, I believe? did some practise but then Allexus ushered us out. Where did you go?" She tries not to make it sound like an accusation; he is not obligated to stay around her and she does not need a minder, but she’s curious all the same. 

"Oh, went and retrieved my horse and went to the blacksmith to sort out some business. I believe we will leave in the morning to get my promotion and head out. Will you accompany us?"

Maria gives a shrug with a smile. "Why not? I'd like to have company on the road. Abra is great but he's not one for conversation.”

Bran’s laugh is merry and it makes Maria feel warm. "Would you like a drink?" he asks as he leads her inside. 

"Nothing alcoholic, I can't afford to lose any more of my senses."

"Fair enough," he replies with a soft chuckle.

Bran pays for both of their orders. Maria can’t find the strength to be offended.

They talk for a while. It’s nice.

I want to spend time with you. I like being in your company.

 

Five

They - all six of them - get into an argument after the black market disaster in Zendarru calms down. Or rather, Amros and Bran get into an argument and the rest of them get more or less involved. It ends with high emotions, bruised egos, and Bran storming out of the tavern with Chi following and Maria behind them. 

Maria doesn’t need eyes to hear the hurt in Bran’s voice, nor does she need to see to know how anxious Chi Pin is with sorting all this out and getting the ‘crew’ back together again. Maria is silent for most of it, until Chi Pin takes a moment to breathe instead of anxiously rambling, and that is when the sorceress finally reaches out to touch Bran’s arm and give him a smile. 

"Thank you for looking out for us, Bran. We're both sorry for leaving the library without you and I'm sorry for causing trouble. I'm also sorry we left your company at all to be honest. It's nice to have someone dependable around."

Their words do little to ease the bard’s worries and while Maria is not surprised that Bran insists he needs space, it takes far more effort than she thought to not pursue him. Her hand instead goes on Chi Pin’s shoulder to keep them (and herself) from following, murmuring that Bran probably does just need time. She knows it does little to make Chi Pin feel better, but they both let the bard go.

But Bran had said to follow the music if they wanted him, and Maria did . So after a few hours, she leaves and walks through the city, listening for the music she’s becoming so familiar with. When she finds it, she sits in the corner of the tavern, listening to the sound of Bran’s lute. He doesn’t speak to her, but she doesn’t need it. She’s content to listen.

I’ve never sought someone out before. You’re the first.

 

Six

The fight underneath the city leaves Maria more than just disorientated. She is fairly sure she was unconscious for nearly all of it, which meant she woke up to being told that they had to leave the city by the end of the day. Maria owns little, but she can’t help but feel that what she has is scattered everywhere. Luckily, as always, Bran is there.

"Maria! Can I help pack your stuff? Are, are you feeling alright?"

"Assistance would be lovely, yes please Bran, I... can't exactly see where my things have been placed."

He helps her pack, asking for how she best arranges things which is a gesture of kindness Maria had never thought could be offered. He asks a little about what she remembers from the fight and explains what she missed, as well as that Zendarru’s leader, Nandy, had been convinced to let them leave with no repercussions.

"Well as nice as our stay has been, I'll be quite glad to leave the city,” Maria says with a warm smile, partly to ease the guilt she was sure Bran was feeling to some degree, but the statement itself was fully honest. "I am glad that you're back, Bran. It wasn't the same without you, and, chances of death aside, I do think that we all work best together. I missed hearing your footsteps and voice around."

And that was pure truth.

Bran is quiet for a moment, and when he speaks again, his voice is angled slightly away from her like he’s hiding his face. "I am glad to be back too. I missed you as well."

I’ve only known you for nine days, and already I miss you when you’re gone.

 

Seven

It was Bran’s repeated and unwavering kindness that gave Maria the courage to ask for his help finding and learning the instrument she remembers from her childhood. She’s not surprised when he is willing to assist her, with only the advising words “Being blind might have a few challenges, but it is far from impossible”.

Maria’s playful streak makes her reply come easily, ready for the banter that it would no doubt bring. “I would like to learn, and I think you'll find that I have a habit of achieving what people call 'impossible'.”

“What a beautiful habit to have.”

The strange and sudden surge of emotion that slams into Maria’s chest leaves her breathless and speechless; happy, angry, excited, fearful, all at once swarm her and then all at once vanish, leaving her face warm and her lips twitching away from their smile.

“… Thank you. Bran,” she finally convinces her voice to say, unable to find her feet as she drifts in these foreign waves.

“Anytime Maria.”

Something about you makes me feel how I’ve never felt before.

 

Eight

They pass elephants on the way to Thor Aru’s Daybreak hold, which Maria only knows about because of Bran’s very detailed description and the vaguely familiar bellowing trill in the distance. "Oh, I travelled with some once! I think they liked peanuts. Or perhaps peanuts were unhealthy for them. We kids fed some to them anyway when the parents weren't looking, I will admit."

"Fascinating. I have never really encountered them,” Bran admits.

Feeling a little nostalgic, Maria tells them "the group who trained them came with a story about a baby elephant born with overly large ears who could fly."

"Now that sounds like a story worth hearing."

Maria’s not usually one to tell stories, but in that instant, she commits to recalling as much of that story as possible, and as many others as she can remember from her childhood, so that she has a story worth telling should Bran ask.

I’d change for you. I don’t know why.

 

Nine

The Grief Creature from the day before left them all emotionally raw, even if their new haven had meant that rest was achievable. Maria waits until after breakfast so she can approach Bran alone, when he’s saddling Muse in the haven’s stable. She waits until she hears him pause, and then she apologises for her actions in the Daybreak hold, and gives Bran her promise to listen to him, and to be company when he wants it.

She hears nothing for a moment, but then comes the catch of breath and the shift of clothes and whatever Bran is holding, and the feeling of some sort of intangible weight settling down on the half-elf before her. And she hears Bran’s voice whisper as if it were made of the most fragile yet beautiful glass.

"I can't right now, but when I can, I will share."

Maria has never before wished that she could see as much as she wished now, just so she could catch a glimpse of the face that Bran wore when the mask was gone.

But she cannot, so all she does is let her lips betray her feelings in a soft smile, and blindly reaches out to touch his arm. 

"We have time, Bran. Whenever you feel ready, I'll be here."

I want to give you the same comfort you give me. I want you to know that you’re valued.

 

Ten

"I believe this is the one for me,” Maria says as the new violin’s note lingers in the air.

"I think it must be indeed,” the master carver says, but Maria doesn’t miss Bran’s soft whisper that makes something in her flip and blush and curl up.

“… Beautiful.”

Bran and Maria debate over the payment, a debate that Maria rapidly finds herself losing and… she doesn’t mind. It is nice, achingly nice, to have someone wanting to care for her. And she finds no joy in arguing with Bran, so she lets him pay most of the price for her new violin.

They spend the remaining hours until sundown walking together. They don’t speak much.

You do so much for me, and I don’t know why it makes me feel this warm.

 

Eleven

Maria may be blind but she knows an innuendo when she hears it, and Amros always seems full of them even during serious conversations like this one with Allexus. She also knows the secretive smirk that bleeds into a voice, followed by an embarrassed cough and a voice wobbling with a desperate need to assure them it was a “business request”. She doesn’t know what compelled her to share her cheeky thought with Bran via a telepathic message.

"It sounds like the type of business request that Amros is familiar with."

"The embarrassment has made him turn red, literally his whole body went red,” Bran responds nearly immediately.

Maria knows Bran can hear her telepathic giggle, but she keeps that between them and them alone.

I love seeing your wit and your playful side.  I wish I could see it more.

 

Twelve

"Well, howdy there, Maria!"

Maria doesn’t need to see the speaker to know that they are the Reaper. 

"Taking yourself to 0 HP in a massive blazing fire that nearly catches your man friend as he's rushing to save you…”

They talk, but for it all Maria hears a second voice that slowly grows louder, and with it grows her need to follow it, to return to it, and the cold space around her fades as the touch surrounding her grows more tangible.

“Wait! How soon is soon?!” Maria calls because she realises she can now feel her lungs rattling with each burning breath of air and she’s no longer dead, she’s alive , and her heart beating with a stuttering rhythm.

“Sh shh,” says a voice above her, the voice of the one whose arms she can feel holding her. Even before his magic floods her body like a river of notes that stitched together cuts and soothed burnt skin, she knows who it is. She knows that voice far better than she realised; knows it enough to hear it even in death, trusts it enough to follow it back to the living.

Bran.

The moment she recognises his voice, his touch, his magic, Maria feels safe . It doesn’t matter if the world is burning around her. Bran is here, so Maria is safe.

It’s not normal to trust someone the way I trust you.

 

Thirteen

Even though Maria was the one to die, she feels that Bran is far more fragile than she is. Or perhaps she is shaken by how he all but stormed out of her temporary room in Thor Aru’s castle and now stands silently in the hallway before her. "Bran?" she says after a moment.

"I am sorry for yelling." His voice is close but the distance feels impossible to cross. 

"And I'm sorry for playing the fool,” she replies. “I knew I was out of my depth, but... I do have an elf's pride sometimes. Thank you for saving me. And healing me."

"I was just doing what I could. I wish I could have done more."

She wants to correct him, but what on? Her head is spinning, asking questions about her motives that she doesn’t know the answer to. Why does she need him to accept her rambling apologies like she needs air to breathe?

"Well, I forgive you,” Bran says. “Sometimes we do things for ourselves without seeing the consequences. I just . . ."

Why does she never want to hear him so sad and broken ever again?

Maria doesn’t know what to do.

"... Can I have a hug?"

His embrace is the most grounding thing in the world, and it’s the most natural thing ever to bury her head into his shoulder and hide from the world. "Thank you…” she murmurs from the safety of his hold. “Tomorrow I should... probably tell all of you something that happened just before you woke me up, but I think we don't need to worry about it for today."

"Sometimes when I am with you I wish the whole world could just not worry about it for a day. I have something to tell you too, but it might be a little longer before I can. For now let's just stay like this. I think we both need a small break."

Even the thought of losing you in some way makes me tremble. I don’t know why.

 

Fourteen

Maria’s visiting her elven family, and she’s eternally grateful for Bran’s solid presence at her side. He describes a drawing in a scrapbook that Grandmother Erth opened (Maria can tell it’s thick by the sound it made when it hit the table). Even blind, Bran’s description is so clear that Maria can nearly see the drawing of the baby half-elf all wrapped up and giggling.

"You've got a good one, Martzia,” Grandmother Erth says almost as an off-handed comment that Maria nearly misses, if it hadn’t burnt itself into her brain.

Bran stays by her side as she meets all her family, all the cousins and uncles and aunts and grandparents she never knew she had. He stays by her side as they reach her father’s grave and murmur quietly to each other. Bran calls her Marzia, and then sheepishly adds "Sorry, I just wanted to try it, I won't use it again” as if something inside Maria could ever take offence towards him.

But she smiles and reaches out into the dark world to touch the arm of the half-elf who is always there. "I like you calling me Martzia. And thank you, Bran.”

"Always"

It feels right for you to be part of my family. It makes me feel whole.

 

Fifteen

The universe is against Maria as punishment for her broken deal, but there comes the warmth of healing flooding her body and a hand on her shoulder, and Maria falls against Bran before even knowing that he was there, because she knew he would be. 

There is so much to say. So much to beg for forgiveness for. She knows that her actions have meant that judgement is coming for her, and therefore it will fall on everyone around her as well.

“I’m sorry,” is all she can whisper. She can’t hear any reply with her frazzled senses, but the arms around her never move until she moves away from them first.

I need you more than I need anything else. I need you like life itself.





Plus One

The lure of the Font is stronger than Maria and in a flash she’s no longer in Mallharc, but in a… different version of Mallharc. She can see from the eyes of the salamander around her neck, and she can see a Chi Pin and a Bran, both whom she recognises but does not know.

"In another life, your father never died to bandits,” Boldrei says. “Your mother never died, nor did your caravan. You had your family. And do not worry - you still gained your friends as well."

She sees Bran turn to face her and speak in a voice that isn’t his. "We hit it off immediately, fighting against a horrible demon threat. You and Kalynn were a bit catty, but still - you can have it all."

She doesn’t understand why there’s tears in her eyes from words that are so simple, but her heart aches. "I can... have all this, by giving up what I already have?"

"Don't think of it as giving things up,” this version of Bran assures her. “It's more... letting go. They say if you love someone, let them go - it's better for you both, in the end."

Maria feels tears slipping down her face as memories swim up unbidden accompanied by guilt clawing at her chest. "I want to meet my father. I want to play in the fields with my mother again. I... I don't want to be suffering with the consequences of my failings..."

Bran holds out a hand for her. “Then join us,” he pleads, and he hums a familiar tune. The tune that Maria’s father made for her.

Maria raises a hand, reaching out to him. This is what she wants . She wants her father, she wants her mother, she wants Bran , more than anything else. The promise of- of ‘hitting it off immediately’, of having him…

Her hand drops.

She wants her Bran. Not this Bran.

"The Bran I already have needs me. He can't do this on his own, he- he'll kill himself. And I can't let him do it alone when I'm still alive to help him." She has more tears in her eyes but she pushes on. "I've already abandoned him once. I will not do it again. I cannot do it again. I'll take whatever consequences I have to."

Bran looks so, so disappointed in her and it nearly breaks Maria’s heart and her resolve. But this is not her Bran. This is not her Bran.

And right on time, as always, she hears her Bran speak. His voice is shaky but it’s clear, it’s stern, it’s strong , and it grabs hold of Maria so firmly. "You do not need this fake family. This concept, this feeling. We are family, we are stronger than this charm. You are MY family. Snap out of it."

I love you. That’s what this feeling is. I love you.

 

Plus Two

Maria knows Bran has magically overexerted himself again, and after the fight with Morgana and healing everyone and straight into closing the Font, she knows he’s pushing himself too far. With everyone talking around them, she quietly goes over to him and blindly puts her hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, but I think you need to rest."

"We do not have time to rest, we need to find a way to help you,” Bran insists.

"And you cannot help me if you're dead."

"Bran, you've done a lot already, time to take it easy!" Yorsog agrees from beside them, and Maria’s a little thankful for the backup.

"Yeah, man,” Amros interrupted. “Haven's open, going inside and rest up. You look really rough, worse than you normally do!"

"Take it easy? I have not done anything of import yet,” Bran claims, as if they all cannot hear the way he’s puffing as he speaks, and Maria can smell the metallic hint of blood.

Why is Bran consistently so stubborn with his own health? "Nothing of importance except consistently countering the charm of a Font with the power of another plane, not to mention the healing you did for us outside the town. I don't need eyes to tell that you're at your magical limits and physically injured. You need to rest, Bran. Please."

Please . Maria needs him to be okay.

"My limits matter not, when you are in far greater danger than a little bit of overwork."

Amros appears less pleased with that statement than Maria is, but he at least is able to do something about it. Maria hears the definite scuffle of Amros scooping Bran up and lugging him to the haven with no heed for the bard’s protests. Maybe Bran will hold that one against her for a little bit, and Maria can’t help but feel a little guilty.

I love you. That’s why I need you to be okay.

 

Plus Three

Maria doesn’t dare to move or touch any of the magical wares around her. With the universes’ eyes fixed on her as they are, she doesn’t want to risk triggering any of these magics in a bad way. Thelo though shows no fear as he takes her hand.

"Do ya wanna buy anything? Or maybe dance by the most expensive item? Or maybe take out a life insurance-”

All of Thelo’s words fled Maria’s brain as she hears Bran speaking but not to anyone, but rather to… The universe? He is wishing her misfortune away and Maria hardly has the time to realise that (and she doesn’t even have a moment to register Thelo’s excited punches) before there’s a burst of magic so thick around Bran that Maria nearly goes blind in that sense too.

And then the judgement… lifts.

She feels maybe that it goes a little begrudgingly (what with Wishing on the figure of the fey they killed and all), but it leaves , and with it evaporates the weight of the world on Maria’s shoulders. She’s okay. She’s okay .

She catches Bran as they leave, finding his arm so she can wrap his hand in hers. “Thank you.”

"For?”

Dozens of thoughts spring to Maria’s mind at once; every time Bran showed kindness to her, every time he laughed, every time he described the world to her, every time he held her, he comforted her, he talked with her, he sacrificed himself for her.

"... Everything, I suppose,” she murmurs.

"You should not thank the person who put you through all this,” Bran insists.

Somehow, Maria isn’t surprised that Bran is blaming himself. "You weren't the one who rushed through a deal after being explicitly warned about the consequences of breaking such a deal. If Morgana had lived, she would have found ways around my deal and I get the feeling we'd be in even more trouble."

"While your deal was ill advised, I am the one that broke it, not you. We could have figured out another way, I just acted selfishly and put us all at risk. I put you in so much danger. I am so sorry."

Maria could argue. She could debate like she always has in the past. She could insist that Bran stops making himself responsible for every action and consequence they face. But… She’s grown wiser now, and she feels that that isn’t what Bran needs.

"You're forgiven."

She can imagine him pause, maybe even imagine the flicker of expressions that cross over his face. "Are you sure? So easily? I have not even started to go into all the things I did wrong. You will forgive me, just like that?"

Yes. I love you .

Maria doesn’t yet have the courage to say it with those words.

Bran’s words quiver with tears and he’s the first to hug her as he cries, and Maria hugs in return, resting her head against Bran’s, taking the time to try and shield him from the world.

I love you. I’ll always forgive you.

 

Plus Four

"I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY!"

Thelo’s enthusiasm makes Maria chuckle to herself as Amros makes a comment about dumping soup. She’s not ready for Thelo to suddenly turn the conversation to her and to slide across a thin wooden box that bumps into Maria’s hands. She opens it and she can feel a circular shape - a ring - inside, and in seconds she feels out the engraving. ‘You are our world!’

All the World for My Martzia , is what Maria first thinks, and the tears that spring into her eyes are only happy.

"It's from me and Bran especially, but mostly it's from all of us!"

Thelo gets her hug first, tight and sincere, partly to spend a moment to gather herself, and partly because the young child is so kind. Thelo insists that she hug Bran too as if the thought isn’t screaming in her mind.

"I am glad you like it," Bran says to her as they hug.

I love you.

I love you, I love you.

Maria’s voice won’t work. Her throat has closed up from emotions - excitement, joy, fear - and she wipes away her tears when she leans away, desperately hoping no one comments on her blush.

I love you. I need to learn how to say it.