Work Text:
Getting Ready
Acri peered at the mirror, glaring at the scrap of fabric in his hand that—no matter which way he twisted or turned—never seemed to knot in the right shape.
“…this is ridiculous,” he said, as he started anew for the fourth time. Of course, Evar would come up with some fancy-knotwork, ridiculous thing that got all puffy under a proper coat.
Of course, all of magical society would get enamored with it.
Of course, Lovelana would tell him she thought he would look quite dashing in one.
Thus, his current predicament, since blast it, he wanted to impress her. He was painfully aware that she had gotten even more popular after the end of the Shimmer Conflict (which conflict was named for the vast amount of magical spells and magic dust that had covered the earth in the final battle). Though he wanted to take his time to find himself and get Matty established, he was also aware Matty was getting older, he wasn’t getting any younger, and suitors for Lovelana would always come calling.
Sighing, he started again on attempt number five, looping the fabric in and out of itself, puffing it up and pinning it in place with a golden stick Evar had gifted to him.
He tilted his head to the side as he reviewed his progress. The tie lilted to one side, but it mostly stayed in place.
Mostly.
“…I suppose it will do,” he said slowly, trying to convince himself that it was really fine and he was being too hard on himself. That would be easier if the tie didn’t slip into nothingness before his eyes.
And then the wardrobe sneezed, followed by the sound of muffled coughing.
Acri sighed, resting his hands on top of the dresser. He leaned his forehead against the mirror before jerking his head back at the touch of the glass.
Some scars he was still getting over.
Mirrors, however, were no longer his primary problem. Recalcitrant teenagers were.
“You can come out, Matty,” he called, standing upright and looking at his reflection, trying to see if his attire looked any better in profile. When nothing happened, he tried again.
“Matty. I know you’re in there.”
“No, I’m not,” the voice of his practically-little-but-not-so-little-anymore brother Matty, now nearly sixteen, leaked through the wood.
“Wardrobes don’t talk,” Acri reminded him.
“Magic wardrobes do!” Matty shot back.
“No, they don’t,” Acti retorted, then paused. “But they do have spiders.”
“Spiders?” Matty scoffed. “We don’t have spiders in the wardrobes. You make us clean them too often.”
“Normally, you’re right, we don’t, but a handful of some other-realm ones followed Evariste the last time he visited and he said they’re rather poisonous—”
The door snapped open as Matty threw himself out of the wardrobe, stumbling several steps and nearly bumping into Acri.
Reddening, he straightened himself, tugging on his shirt and wiping his pants as if to smooth the perpetual wrinkles out of them. No matter how old Matty got, he always seemed to have a way of running about and getting his clothes all rumpled.
“So,” Matty sniffed, trying to speak calmly as he casually brushed a hand over his hair. “Tell me more about these poisonous spiders. What do they look like exactly?”
Despite his supposed calm, Acri easily spotted how Matty was threading his fingers through his hair, then glancing at his fingers as if trying to spot any intruders. “About how large are they?” he asked, shaking the bottom hem of his shirt and looking at the floor to see if anything fell.
“Does it matter?” Acri asked, crossing his arms. “I didn’t think you were afraid of spiders. Aren’t you the kid who chased frogs and ran barefoot in the woods and insisted on making us crawl around ponds and tree stumps?”
“Frogs are different,” Matty said, turning in a circle to check his back in the mirror. “And I don’t mind spiders, but I’m also smart enough to know the ones hitching a ride on Mister Evariste could be different.”
Acri chuckled. In the years since the end of the Shimmer Conflict with the Chosen, Matty had taken to regularly joining Acri on his visits to see Evariste, Angel, and even Stil and Emerys. Matty particularly enjoyed visiting Evar’s home, and had developed an interest in working with the various magical creatures that were attracted to Evariste’s magic. He and Stil had even worked together on a few projects, working out how to extract the magical properties of the various visitors without injuring them and annotating their various characteristics. Buuuut over the years he’d been bitten, kicked, and scratched by a fair enough number of them that the young boy had finally learned some measure of caution.
Then again, just one week ago he had spent a few hours pulling barbed quills out of Matty’s leg after the lad was surprised by something he decided to call a “porcupine.” Perhaps Lovelana wasn’t wrong when she suggested they invest in a suit of movable armor for the boy, lest she be forced to engineer some form of perpetual-healing spell for him.
“—hot chocolate ready,” Matty’s voice interrupted his thoughts, drawing Acri back to the present.
“Hm?” Acri said, turning back to the mirror and fiddling with the cravat yet again. Maybe the sixth time would be the charm?
“I said, I’ll go get the hot chocolate ready,” Matty repeated, lingering by the doorway. “Since I presume we are getting dressed up for an evening with Lovelana,” he added casually.
Too casually. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say smugly?
“We are doing nothing,” Acri stated firmly, as Matty crossed his arms and pouted by the door. “Lovelana and I are…that is to say…”
Matty waited expectantly, raising an eyebrow as Acri stumbled over his words. Finally, Acri huffed. “Well, we’re having dinner,” he repeated.
“You mean you’re having a date,” Matty said flatly.
“It’s not a date date,” Acri muttered, pulling out the pin on the cravat and unravelling the whole mess all over again. “We’re just going to have dinner at one of the new restaurants in Loire. Evariste mentioned he was taking Angelique and Lovelana said it also sounded fun. One thing lead to another and Evar said he didn’t mind portaling us over since they were going anyway.”
“Uh huh,” Matty said, sounding completely unconvinced. “So is this date going to last until morning or are you going to be back at a reasonable hour?”
Leaning against the doorway, Matty watched as Acri fussed about his clothing and scowled at his reflection. Deciding to keep poking his older brother, he continued. “Should I leave the lamp out or make myself scarce or—”
“You don’t need to do anything,” Acri rolled his eyes. “Really. It’s just dinner.”
“Mmhm. And how many times have you tied that ridiculous fluffy fabric thing now?”
Acri shot Matty a warning look. “I will end you, Matty,” Acri threatened. Despite their difference in years, in moments like this, Matty was every inch the little brother he hadn’t gotten to have, irritating impulses included.
Matty grinned. “Acri and Lana, ending in a tree…K-I-S-S-I—”
“MATTY!” Acri shouted and reached for the boy.
Matty simultaneously jumped and yelped in surprise, then laughed as he ran into the cabin’s other room, vaulting over furniture and using the exposed roof beams to swing himself to safety.
His attempts were futile. Even with the additions and upgrades Acri had made to the cabin, their home was still rather small and cozy, and it was only a matter of time until Acri caught him.
Acri knew it. Matty knew it.
That didn’t mean either person planned on making it easy for the other.
Thus, despite his finery, and despite Matty’s improved spatial awareness under Acri’s rigorous self-defense tutelage, it was easy as pie for Acri to tap his magic, hook a foot around Matty’s ankle at just the right moment, and pull the precocious boy’s legs out from under him.
Matty hit the floor, then grunted as Acri landed on top of him.
“Now. If you’re going to act like a child, how exactly should I discipline you?” Acri asked as Matty wriggled underneath him, attempting to escape.
Acri snapped his fingers. “I know. What about that time you dangled one of those exceptionally long drool strings over my face while I was stuck under the cabin fixing a broken stud?”
“You wouldn’t!” Matty said, though his eyes narrowed as if he dared him.
He was right, Acri wouldn’t, but it would hardly hurt to tease him. Pooling what little saliva he had in his mouth, he spoke around it. “What was it you said to me? It’s fine so long as it’s not touching you?”
The pair wrestled as Acri let loose one of the disgusting strings, threatening Matty with it as he lay pinned beneath him.
“Ugh! You’re so gross!” Matty said in complete irony, wiggling under Acri as he tried to escape the liquid’s descent. “Besides, if you waste all your spit on me, how are you going to swap it with ‘Lana, hmmmm?”
Well, point to Matty, because that surprised Acri enough that he choked on his own spit and pitched forward. That was all the opening Matty needed to shift his leg under Acri and thrust his hips up, neatly throwing Acri over his head. Faster than a jackrabbit at a coyote convention, Matty was up and away on the other side of the living room.
If Acri wasn’t so caught up in trying not to die choking, he would have been proud of him.
He had just thudded to the floor when one of Evar’s gateways quickly assembled itself in their living room. Evariste stepped through the portal, a huge grin on his face, calling out a joyous “we’re heeeere!” to announce his presence to the household.
“Hi, Mister Evar! And Mister Emerys.” Matty waved respectfully from where he stood. Acri rolled his eyes from the floor at the innocent expression on the teenager’s face.
“Matty, my boy! How are you? I say, you’re getting taller every time I see you, I just know it,” Evar said delightedly.
“It’s only been a week, Mr. Evar,” Matty said, smiling. Acri tried not to begrudge Evar the clear respect Acri showed him, but sometimes—like now—it was rather difficult.
“That would be the spite in him. I hear it causes growth spurts,” Acri said from his position on the floor. Setting his hands underneath him, he pushed himself up off the floor.
Evar’s eyes tracked the room until they found him on the floor. “Acri!” Evar shouted in surprise. “What on earth is going on? I thought you were expecting us to pick you up for your date with Lovelana?”
“Ha!” Matty said from where he was now standing across the room.
The elf king, Emerys, reached down and gave Acri a hearty pull back to his feet. Acri grunted his thanks, not missing the teasing sparkle in the elf-king’s eyes. He schooled his own.
“It’s not a date,” Acri repeated. “And what are you doing here?” he asked Emerys. “I thought you and Quinn were having some sort of council meeting with the generals?”
“I was. Then Evar told me you were playing lover-mage and I just couldn’t resist. Acri and Lana, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I—”
Acri slapped a hand over the elf-king’s mouth as Evar looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. “You are a child, Emerys,” the enchanter chastised him.
“That’s what I said!” Matty whispered conspiratorially across the room to Emerys.
“Not helping things, Matty,” Acri stated, glowering at Emerys as the elf pulled out of Acri’s reach and gave the boy two thumbs up. Unhelpfully, both Evar and Emerys laughed, before Matty finally excused himself to go make a pot of tea.
“Nevermind all that,” Evar tried to cheer him. “Look at you! You look wonderful!”
Evar held Acri by the shoulders, taking a long look up and down at his outfit. Acri sighed, having already been aware that the clothes-conscious Evariste would probably want to do something or other to his evening wear.
Without asking, Evar reached out and caught the yet-again loose ends of the cravat Acri had been so desperately trying to tie. In a few neat moves Evar had straightened Acri’s jacket and had the tie resting perfectly. He even finished it off by neatly pinning it in place with the gold stick pin Acri had shoved into it earlier, adding some sort of decorative chain to dress it up even more.
Acri, picking up on what Evar was doing, Acri stood quietly in place, allowing him to assist. It almost felt like a proper father-son moment, even more applicable since Acri teasingly called him Dad. It was also something he hoped to do for Matty one day. He wasn’t really the boy’s father, but he tried to show how much he cared for him, something he was continually working on given the sordid childhood that was his own.
Once Evar was done preening him, he patted Acri on the shoulder, and Acri popped over to check out his updated appearance in the mirror again.
“I don’t know how you can stand these things daily,” he said gruffly from the other room, hoping to cover the warmth rising within him.
“It helps when you have magic you can just tell to get it done,” Evar confessed. “Which reminds me. Stand there a second.”
Acri did, and the enchanter snapped his fingers, magically lifting the dust that had gotten on Acri’s coat as he and Matty had tussled about the cabin.
“A handy trick,” Acri confessed, straightening one of the cuffs of his sleeves.
“And a fine one!” Emerys said, holding up a frosty mug of beer. Clearly, the elf-king had gotten into the new cupboard Stil had made for them, a fantastic convenience that kept food free of spoiling for extended periods.
It also kept food cold, which lead to scenarios like this one.
“I’m not sure the foam mustache matches your pants” Acri joked. Emerys was dressed decently well today. Acri presumed he would be coming with them then, probably also with Quinn.
That was good. Quinn could talk to Angel, leaving more time for Acri to talk with Lovelana, and the two of them could stab Emerys with a fork if he got out of control.
“I had Stil make a charm that can do the same for Quinn. I think he’s also making one for Yneari’s wife, Grace,” Emerys said, ignoring Acri’s barb and taking another swig of the beer. He grinned at Matty as his foam mustache grew and the boy laughed.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go back and wait with Angel?” Acri asked, watching with a bit of a scowl as Emerys offered his mug to Matty. The young man reached out for it, before Acri tapped his speed magic to zip over, retrieve the mug, and put the remnants back in the cold box.
Emerys was unphased. “I thought I’d drop by, see how your nerves were doing. It’s a big day, after all. The shadow-almost-enchanter’s first date!” Emerys crowed happily.
“See? I told you it was a date!” Matty said again, grinning widely.
“It’s just dinner,” Acri hissed back.
“I hate to break it to you, Acri, but it is possible for this evening to be two things at one time. It is dinner, but it is also most definitely a date.” Evar’s musical voice filtered in, as he cheerily walked into the kitchen with them.
“No, it’s not,” Acri persisted. “I just ran into Lovelana when we were visiting a week ago. Angel said she wanted to try the new restaurant. Lovelana said she did too. Then I just said it would be a good idea for us to go sometime and she said when and I said how about Thursday and she said what time and I said seven thirty and now I’m starting to see your point and absolutely yes this sounds like a date.”
The rest of the room exchanged glances as Acri’s breath left him in a whoosh. He sat down heavily where he stood, Matty just managing to get a stool under him in time so he didn’t fall over.
“You can’t really be surprised, are you?” Emerys asked, looking between Evar and Matty. “I mean, you’re dressed for it.”
“I dressed for the restaurant dress code,” Acri said weakly. “Somehow the nature of the night still escaped me.” He rubbed his chin and mouth with his hand. “Angel said the restaurant is fancy. I didn’t want to embarrass myself or Lovelana.”
“Well, that’s a good first step,” Evar said encouragingly.
“How would you know?” Acri asked, looking up at Evar, then over at Emerys. “Neither of you ever had to date. You just sort of jumped right into things, right?”
The two powerful beings blinked, looking across at one another, having to admit that it was true. Emerys lucked into Quinn on short notice with his own curse, and Evar had danced around his feelings for Angel so long it had caused all sorts of a mess. And then there was the whole thing with the mirror and the search and Lilianne and blah blah blah.
Stop it, Acri, Acri chided himself. We are going to focus on happy feelings today.
“Aw, come on, Acri,” Matty said, punching him in the arm. Acri frowned at the boy.
“Don’t mess up my shirt,” he chided, and Matty grinned sheepishly.
“Lovelana likes you. Like, likes you likes you. Even Blind Joe can see it, and I’ve seen the way you look at her. Just go hang out. Sit. Eat. Have dinner. Talk magic things.” The boy huffed. “If I can ask out Emily, you can make it through one meal with a lady that already likes you.”
Acri frowned. “You haven’t asked Emily out,” Acri pointed out, and Matty’s posture deflated a little. Emily was the tailor’s daughter, and Matty’s newest crush. She’d moved to Carabas not long ago.
“Yeah but I’m gonna. I have plans. I’m gonna invite her to the festival in a few weeks, and I told her I’d help her out with the box of nonmagical kittens she found.”
“Nice one, Matty.” Emerys agreed. “Nothing bribes a girl’s affections like gifting them a cat, magic or otherwi—oof!”
Emerys grunted as Evar’s elbow caught him in the middle. Somehow, that had struck a nerve.
“And we’ll be there!” Evar grinned. “If you get flustered, Angel or I can distract Lovelana while you get your wits about you.”
“What about Emerys?” Acri ribbed back.
Emerys flashed his own devious smile. “Conveniently, I have gotten Quinn to agree to come with me as my chaperone for the evening. Apparently, I require supervision when I’m with Evar in polite society.”
“Which means he overheard and invited himself along after causing some disaster for Alastryn to clean up today,” Evariste explained. “Which is all well and good, Emerys, but you do still need to get dressed yourself so we need to hurry this along—”
The trio watched as Emerys snapped his fingers and a few moments later, stood in regal elven clothing, looking every inch the powerful elf king he was.
“Is that a glamour? Pleases tell me that’s a glamour,” Acri asked flatly.
“…Remind me that sometimes I hate you,” Evar complained, rolling his eyes.
“You?” Acri scoffed. “Mr. I-make-myself-sparkle? Mr. I-can-magically-tie-cravats?”
“Mr. voted Hottest-Magic-Enchanter-of-the-Year?” Emerys joined in.
“Mr. My-wife-will-kill-me-if-we’re-late, and I remind you both that knives and forks are pointy, and there will be plenty of them at the venue,” Evar repeated, pushing the pair of them back toward the portal. “Now let’s hurry and get going, or we’ll be the newest pincushions Angel practices her control on!”
“Don’t stay up too late, Matty,” Acri called over his shoulder, escaping Evar’s clutches just long enough to offer some final instructions. “There’s stuff for dinner in the cold box already. Just heat it up or I can bring you something back—or you know what? Why don’t you just walk down the street to Mrs. Morrison’s house? She’d be happy to—”
“GOODBYE, DAD!” Matty shouted, using his arms to push Acri toward the portal. “It’ll be fine! You’ll do great! Remember you’re handsome and a hero and she already likes you. Oh! And take this!” Matty shouted, thrusting a hand out to grab a loose flower out of one of their flower pots and shoving it into Acri’s hand.
With one final shove, Acri was pushed through the portal, stumbling into the comforting aroma of and ever-present warmth that was Evar’s living room in Wistful Thicket.
His hand clutched the flower stem as he bolstered himself. He had already achieved so much. From leaving the Chosen, to learning to live as a commoner, to overcoming the mirror and Liliane. If he could do all of that, this…a first date was nothing.
“Acri!” he heard Lovelana call, and turned to see her in a stunning green dress. She was positively gorgeous, and his heart beat faster just for seeing her.
“Lovelana,” his voice caught in his throat with his nerves. Her smile widened as he cleared his throat and spoke more confidently.
He deliberately ignored the shuffling and whispers in the room just beyond them, where he was certain Quinn and Angel were trying to keep Emerys and Evar contained.
“Lovelana. Hello. It’s lovely to see you.”
“It’s lovely to see you too, Acri,” her eyes sparkled in amusement. “What have you got there?”
“Oh. A flower,” he said, looking down at the pink and yellow bloom in his hand. “Here. It’s for you,” he offered, raising the fist he clutched it in, extending it to her.
…which is when he noticed that the flower had come with him, roots and all. A few clods of dirt fell onto the cabin floor below.
Blast.
But Lovelana giggled. Stepping forward, she took the flower daintily from his hand.
“How cute,” she said, still smiling at him and turning his insides to liquid. “I do love when I can still grow the plants. It helps them last longer. Give me a second while I put this in water and we can get growing. I mean, going.”
Kissing the side of his cheek she disappeared off toward the kitchen and Acri sucked in a breath. He was more nervous than the day he’d stepped over the Verglas border…but it was a good nervous. An excited nervous. A hopeful nervous.
And he always had Matty, Evar, and Angel if things didn’t work out. And even Emerys.
So, perhaps the first date was not nothing. It was still a first and, if he’d gotten any better at examining his feelings over this last year, it still meant something. Denying it didn’t make that go away.
But it was the first day of the next step in his life, and that was a challenge he was always ready for.