Archive of Our Own

It was… tomorrow.

“Tomorrow.” A concept that had eluded you since the dawn of your wish.

The king had died, and the sun set and came back up again.

…As a knee-jerk reaction, you wondered what it’d be like to loop today instead. 

Repeat today the same way as you’d done yesterday, thousands of times over. It’d be nicer, you think. Repeating the day after you saved Vaugarde instead of the day that you have to actually go through with saving it. 

An endless party. Everyone is cheering for you and your family. Telling you that you’re the best in the world.

You. 

Have. An idea. A selfish idea, but you’d been selfish the entire time and your family (your family!!! ) insisted that being selfish does not make you a bad person, so!!!

You are going to get as drunk as possible. And no god, expression, or Universe could stop you. 

You still felt your body ache with Craft sickness after everything, but who cared! You were going into town, you were going to see the sun stain the sky a new shade for the first time in years , and you were going to get absolutely destroyed on Vaugardian mead until you forget the last two years of your life. 

You’d learned this a few towns back, before the loops. Apparently, in Vaugarde, the act of making alcohol is considered holy since you're Changing one thing into another thing. So a lot of people make homemade alcohol! And lots of them brought it to this big beautiful townwide celebration!

And it is a PARTY! A celebration! Nobody would blink twice if you were getting wasted! You are celebrating life , celebrating that none of you are frozen in time anymore, just like how you were before!!

Nobody would judge you! Nobody would—

When you make your way to the table out in the center of Dormont, there was a tap on your shoulder. You know that tap. It’s one of the few touches that still makes you flinch.

“ Siffrin. ”

“Heyyyy,” You turn back, a smile stretching wide across your face. It’s only half-fake. Squinting at Odile as she stares daggers much sharper than yours into your very soul . You slowly hide the bottle you’d been reaching for behind your back. “Hooooow’s it going?”

She reaches quickly enough to yank it from your hand. Didn’t even give you the dignity to try fighting back, in your still enfeebled state. “Don’t you hey me. You were using wish craft AND TIME CRAFT for the past gems know how long, and you were about to start drinking? ”

She grimaces at the bottle as if it was the most disgusting thing she’d ever held, and then raises it to her own lips, taking a couple big swigs. “Unforgivable. You should know better. Who knows if alcohol would exacerbate your condition?”

Your eyes train on another bottle, left on the table just out of reach. “...worried it might make me feel kinda loopy , ehhhh ?” 

She frowns like you just spat on her shoes. “No. No. You are not—”

Odile pinches her forehead with her fingers shortly, before then taking another large swig of that mead.

You look up at her fondly, resting your head on the table, bent at the hip. Her cheeks darken as the booze starts settling in her stomach. It’s a good look on her. She’s so elegant, so graceful, and you love her even when she isn’t those things. 

“ Heeeee ,” you giggle, tapping the table excitedly. “We’re gonna get to see drunk Odile again. Still think I’m an assassin? Should I be concerned ?”

She furrows her eyebrows at you. “No. You don’t get to say that. You shouldn’t even know that I thought that. I had those two swear on their lives that you would never learn.”

…She then almost smiles. Almost. “Do you have the time to wish for one more loop, for my sake? I would love to make good with Isabeau and Mirabelle on the secrecy they swore to me.”

It’s dry, sarcastic, and a little too soon for that kind of joke. Ah. Right, she’s a lightweight. You don’t flinch at it, though. You kind of deserve it for how you behaved earlier, especially to her. 

“They didn’t tell me,” you assure her, reaching for a piece of some sort of fried meat. “I just overheard you talking about it. I was being a big creep, eavesdropping.”

You took a bite, the breading crackling under your teeth as you sunk them into the meat. 

Oh it tasted GOOD . AMAZING. The first piece of fresh food outside of the ten choices you’d been offered for the last year. It didn’t taste like sand like everything else! 

You nearly cried. Nearly choked on it. 

“Hmm. Then I guess I will enact my righteous vengeance upon you at a later date.” She twirls the bottle in the air slightly, watching how the transparent bottle and the drink inside shine in the afternoon sunlight.

She notices your emotional reaction to the food, and pauses. “Not today. I shouldn’t deprive you of your joy yet. Can’t have drunk Odile ruining my reputation again.”

She is petting you. Ruffling her fingers in your hair. It feels weird , the breeze in your hair after your hat had flown away. 

They were… touching you, still. Did you really have to just mention it once for them all to suddenly be comfortable with it? With you?

…It’s nice. Really nice. You lean into her hand, feel how cold her fingers are as they bump against the top of your ears. Her nails against your scalp. It make you sigh, head going fuzzy.

“I’m serious, though. Nothing harder than cider for you. You should be a good role model. For Boniface’s sake.”

“Bonnie’ll understand if I’m a little off today,” you mumble. Then, you bark out a laugh. “What a year the last couple days have been, am I right?”

You feel a twinge of guilt over your plans to grab a bottle and start chugging whatever’s inside the moment her back is turned. She’d forgiven you for worse, though. You just. Really need the edge taken off of reality, right now. You want plausible deniability for the fuzz that filled the edges of your vision being from alcohol and not because this is all some vivid hallucination.

You want to wake up tomorrow hungover, so the pain would remind you that this was a new day. 

“...Hmm.” She squints at you, at the way your head follows her hand for a brief moment when she pulls back. “...I’ll have to speak with you about this later.”

She shakes her head. “But I shouldn’t now. This is a time for celebration, merriment, and bad decisions. Who am I to deprive you of that?”

She waves lazily at you as she leaves, her interest piqued by a musical performance that had just started singing praises for the change god. To you all. Did… did everyone here practice these? Before you all went to save the country? Or was this something they just knew?

…Well, she did say that she wasn’t going to deprive you of your bad decisions. That’s pretty much permission to make any bad choices you want, right?

You grab the next bottle, opening it and drinking as much as you can from it. You practically chug, washing down your meal with a heavy warmth. It burns your throat and you feel real . A new, fresh kind of stinging pain that you haven't felt in so, so long.

You alternate between food and drink like a madman. You didn’t realize how hungry you’d been. You skipped eating most of the later loops. You’d forgotten food could even BE this good. 

Then you accidentally take a bite of something extremely spicy. With a cough and a wheeze, you realize your bottle is empty. Huh. That happened fast. You grab another, this one going down shockingly smooth. Was this even alcoholic? Did it matter? 

If you got sick, you got sick. Consequences for your actions would save you! And boy, you were hoping tomorrow came with TONS of consequences. In fact, so many consequences that… oh, wow, you didn’t even realize how many people had shown up! You didn’t even realize that more people had arrived from the surrounding towns, everyone traveling to Dormont for you ! To celebrate YOUR victory! It didn’t even feel real—!

Without thinking, you spun into someone and stumbled. Ouhf!

“Sif!! Where were you?”

Isa’s smile greets you with such a profound brightness. His cheeks are going to be hurting tomorrow, you think. But he can’t help it. He’s just this happy that you all had done it.

“Isaaaaaa!” you cry, leaning backwards into him as he stumbles a little, taken aback by how quickly you move. “ Isabeauuuu!”

“ Sif!!!!!! ”

He moves in close to you again. Hesitates, again, even though you’re already touching. You reach up, looking up at him, your back to his chest. 

“ Isaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…!” You continue, wrapping your arms up and around the back of his neck, covered by fabric. 

“Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiif! Are— crab , have you been drinking??? Are you sure that’s a good idea, bud?”

Yeah you’re sure. You feel GREAT. A little wobbly, but great . 

“I feel GREAT,” you reassure, grinning like a madman. And maybe you were mad. Stark raving mad.

“Are you sure?? I thought you were on, um, bedtime and soups duty!!”

Oh, right. Bedtime and soups duty. Meaning, taking intermittent naps and then waking up only for long enough that Bonnie could shove a bowl of soup in their face, eating that, and then knocking out again. But you could have ONE night, right?

“You only live once—! Heh!” You ramble, poking his chin. “Won’t save Vaugarde twice! Hah—haha! This party will never! Happen! Again!!!!”

“...Yeah, um.” He grabs you, easily, hoisting you up over his shoulder and carrying you. “Let’s… get you somewhere a little more quiet, okay, Sif?”

You squeaked, embarrassingly close to a little nyaaaa sound. Isa laughed against you, and you felt it in your very bones. 

“Isaaaa,” you repeated, smiling wider. “Isa. Isabeau. Isaaaa. ”

“Yeah, Sif?” He knocked his head against your side as he walked. Making sure you felt attended to. 

“You— I can feel it!!! When you laugh. It’s really nice…”

It was! And you could say it now, and he’d remember and he likes you and even though you’re not officially, like, a thing yet, you just can't help the little rush it gives you to be able to tell him things and have them mean something.  

“You’ve got the best laugh, Isa,” you drawled, giggling. “I’d— I have done sooooo many REALLY stupid things to hear it!!”

“Oh?” He grins, poking your hand with his finger. “Like whaaaat? What’ve you done? Maybe I’ll think it’s silly again and laugh all over again!!”

Wuh-oh! Quick, what’s an easy thing that he laughed at once that you did? Was there a joke you didn’t make that last loop…?? Or did you even make them all before? Time was all weird and fuzzy!

Don’t say that you killed yourself. Don’t say you developed a weird fixation on— on poking his stomach so he’d react to your presence and then killing yourself as painfully as possible to absolve yourself of the guilt. Don’t tell him you drove a knife into your throat over and over so that he’d smile at you genuinely, even just once. 

“Said that the favor tree is pretty tree- mendous,” you squinted. Everything felt hazy. “Among a few other particularly cutting jokes. Ahaaaa. ” 

You’re a master of comedy and subterfuge. 

“TREE-MENDOUS! HA!” He blurts out, shaking so hard you bounce a little. That’s… really nice, actually! Bouncy bouncy. You wonder if you can get him to do that again. And again. And again. “That’s good! That’s so good!! I can’t believe I missed out on any of your jokes!”

Then… he pokes your hand again. “Maaaaybe you’ll have to tell me some more sometime! But for now, let’s… hmmm. Isn’t food good when you’re drunk? The fats help counteract the alcohol in your system?”

You don’t know if that’s true. And even if it is, you’d eaten so much already - you’d practically stuffed yourself. And yet…

You could eat as much as you wanted, here. Everything was new, different, and delicious. 

“It is, I think the m’dame told me that. Just before she got wasted, too.” You laugh. “It’s a feast for… uh, the senses? No, hang on, I’ve got a better one…”

Isa laughed regardless, eager for more. Yes. Yesssssssssss.

…

Stars, nothing came to mind. 

No, NO you can save this!!!

“...Do you mead something to eat, Isa?”

WEAKKKK. You’re ashamed of your lack of good puns. Must be the alcohol. 

He still snickers, though. You still have that! “Nooo, you mead something to eat! You do!!”

He spins you right into the house thats being used as a kitchen and set you on an empty counter by the door, quickly saying many things to Bonnie— Bonnie’s here! Helping in the kitchen! — getting you a couple plates with a little food on them each. You feel a little overwhelmed by the options! The smells of potato soup, roast duck, the sweetest chocolate crepes! He just keeps handing dish after dish to you, like that would help fix things.

And in a way, it does. You devour each of them as soon as they are in front of you. Rich and creamy, soft and sweet, smooth and meaty! You could do this for not-forever!

You feel full! With chocolate around the corners of your mouth and love buzzing in your pores, you feel drunk and happy and full .  

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt full. 

Isa stands next to you, leaning up so that your knee presses into his ribs. As close as possible without seeming weird. He had some sugary drink in his hands, sipping at it. You pause your ravenous eating-spree to stare at him.

He looked… great. You hadn’t noticed until now, but he had on a different outfit than usual. Sleeveless top and high-waisted pants— still a turtleneck, still lightless, but—

You hadn't seen him in new clothes in a LONG time. His arms being exposed made your head spin. You couldn’t remember the constellations you’d been taught as a kid, but you could make new ones in the freckles on his shoulders.

You lean your head against his big beautiful arm. It’s cool to the touch, soothing the burning in your cheeks. At the sensation, he stares down at you, cheeks darkening. You figure you should probably say something instead of staring like a creep. 

“ Youuuu… look. Nice. Isa-buff. Isa-funny. Isabeau. Hehhhh .”

“...You’re drunk, Sif,” he says, with a chuckle. “I’m not telling you anything until after you’re sober! Those are the rules.”

“‘S okayyyyyy,” you hum, patting his big beautiful bicep. “I already knowww.”

He tenses up, but that only makes you cling harder onto his arm. It’s so firm. So nice! This is great!!

“...Uh, already know about what, Sif? Didn’t we agree that, um, no spoilers…?”

Right. You agreed with Mirabelle that you would let everyone come to their own conclusions about things. But… come on, now. You figured this one out on your own, right…? You didn’t need a timeloop to learn this, right? Come on. You deserved a freebie.

“Don’t need a stupid time-loop to know that you’re…”

You trail off, squishing your cheek against his bicep. You wonder if he can feel the heat in your face. His arm is starting to feel warm too, sticking wherever you touch. You want to brand his skin with your body heat so everyone can see how you can touch him now. You’re allowed to. Encouraged, even. What a rush!

“Isa brilliant. Isabeauuuuuutiful.” You place a hand flat on his arm. “Came to that conclusion all by m’self.”

“Hah! Okay, okay, you win, Sif. Goooood save.” He pats you on the head for your efforts. Woah! Headpats! Everyone’s giving you these nowadays! Is it because you don’t have your hat on all the time anymore? If you knew that, you would have gotten rid of it forever ago! You’d’ve burned the thing for just one!

“Mmmmhm!” You stick your tongue out cutely at him, before trying to pull him up. “We should dance. We should daaaance. Festivities . You saved Vaugarde! Woohooooooooo!”

“You—” Isa laughs, “are gonna fall over if you try dancing right now, Siffarooni.”

You stick your tongue out further. “You’d catch me.”

He seems embarrassed by that. But… he grabs your hand regardless, and you pull him back into the cool night air. 

The entire town is lit up with sparkling lights, crafted to thrum with the music. A little band was playing at the edge of town, the music ringing around them.

“Do you know how to dance?” 

Isa scratched the back of his neck. “I— I mean, kinda?”

“I’ll teach ya,” you pull him close, facing the same way as you. He seems a little thrown off by this, and you grin. “Expecting a waltz? A ballet?”

“Ah!” He stammers. “M— maybe ?”

“I don’t know those as well. ‘Specially not since…” You tap your eyepatch. “Makes it hard to balance. But! I can do this dance blindfolded . Here, here.”

You wrap an arm around his waist. He stands up straighter. You get a little rush at the idea that he’s the one not used to your touch. Heh.

“Now follow my lead, alright, big guy? Right, two, three and kick… ”

“Okay, okay, I’ve got this…” He follows in your dance, a little off-beat to the band’s tune, but neither of you care. Despite it being nighttime, the air is warm. Possibly thanks to Isabeau’s warm body. Or maybe the alcohol in your system. Probably both.

You dance with such fervor. You may not remember much, but you know this by heart. It’s a memory your muscles carry. Nothing could make you forget it, even if you tried. You hope that your movements will be remembered by Isabeau, too. Something both of you could share. Forever.

“Kick! Two, three, left! Two, three, turn!”

You deftly move him around like the delicate beauty he is, accidentally tripping him - and almost falling on top of him in the process. The two of you laugh, and he leans in enough that the bridges of your noses touched…

And then he blushes, turning away from you, as he laughs, anxious. He’s the real star here, not you. He has his own gravity. Pulling you back in no matter where you went. 

“Soooooo,” you purr, head lolling to the side as you practically drape yourself over him, your hands pressed flat against his spine. “You come here often? Cuz I doooooooooo. ”

You tilt your head back and laugh like it’s the funniest joke in the world.

“Ha! Ha—hah. Not often! But I’d love to uhhhh. Um.”

You give him a way out. You lift him back up to his feet, and he rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Dance! More. I’d love to dance more. But it’s getting really late, and—”

“And we don’t save a country twice, Isa! C’mon! Let’s dance until the blinding sun comes up!!”

You spin him. You spin, and spin, and spin together, like you’re a whirling top. Just barely missing others in your midst. And you—

Trip. Again. 

On a rock, and you stumble into him, and knock him over because you don’t know your own strength anymore. You land together in a little pile on the ground, wrapped in each other, a tangle of limbs. Heavenly. You might throw up.

He is laughing. He is laughing, a motion that rocked you up and down on his chest. And it’s beautiful, of course, but— Being jostled around, drunk and dizzy—

Oh, you… really are going to be sick. You push yourself up quickly, crawling over the side and finding a spot behind a tree before…

Bleeeeegh.

Oops. Right all over the grass. That people were dancing on earlier. But you are too dizzy to care. Too sick and… wow, everything is still spinning. Since when was everything still…?

“Oh, oh Change, easy— easy…” One of Isabeau’s hands pulled you back by the hair, so you don’t end up falling into your own mess, the other resting on your back, rubbing up and down your back in a soothing motion.

“S’ry,” you whine. “Ate too much too fast… Then spun around… Kinda my fault.”

“Noooooooooooooo,” Isa groans, continuing to rub your back. His hand in your hair feels stellar. You think want him to pull on it, distantly. “It’s okay, Sif… Do you want to go back to the clockto—”

“ No, ” you snap, more intense than you mean. “Not… not back to the clocktower. Let’s— isn’t there a river nearby? Let’s go swimming.”

“...Uhh. Okay…! Okay. There is. Let’s maybe… just clean you up in there. First. Uh…”

He brings you up to your feet, keeping an arm under your own so you won’t fall or stumble. You do, but this lets you lean on him more. Maybe you’re stumbling on purpose at this point. You wish you could get more mead so you could be back in the solidly accidental territory. But you also know you won’t have the strength to go get more, and Isa won’t grab more for you. Not when you’re in this state.

So you wave lazily at everyone you pass - from the cool jeweler and her wife (her moving wife!), to the blind man, even though you knew he couldn’t see you. You were surprised that so many people were still awake, at this point. Have the others gone to bed, too…?

But then he starts leading you through the woods, and you almost lazily start walking towards his stargazing field on pure instinct. He pulls you closer, though, changing your direction back to the right one.

“Allllright, Sif. One wash-up coming right up!” He hums, pulling you towards the edge of the river. “Isa’s orders!”

The water smells so good. Fresh and clean, unlike your body right now.

You let yourself fall to your knees on the riverbank. 

…You wonder if this river leads to the sea, somewhere. 

Isa sits next to you, hand still splayed across your back. His other hand dips into the river, the water cold and glittering against the moonlight. 

“Here, Sif…”

Isa’s wet hand rubs across your face, callouses rough against your skin in the best way. Rinse. Repeat. 

“There you go, bud…”

You let out a sigh so deep, it felt like the world had just shrugged itself off of your shoulders. It was nighttime. And that meant, tomorrow, it would be daytime. And it meant that it would be night, and day, and night, and day, in a glorious cycle that would never end…! That would never be interrupted again!

“Isa, bring— some of that closer. Please. Water.”

He does, but before you could sip from his hands like a wild animal, he pulls it back. “Woahhh, there. This stuff isn’t clean… I’m not making you get sick again.”

You can’t help but whine. You’ve stooped to this level of patheticness, there isn’t any further down you could get unless you had a pickaxe.

You almost want to drown yourself in it. You’ve never tried that one before. But Isabeau is right here, and you never liked killing yourself in front of him—

…Only secondly do you remember that killing yourself will be permanent now.

“Saddddddd,” you huff. “Oh, well.”

You dunk your face into the water just to feel it roll down your neck when you emerge again. Cackling, cheering. You’re for sure still a little drunk, huh?

“...Okay, yup! That’s enough excitement for one day. I’m getting sleepy, and—”

Isa pulls you back away from the water, almost like he knew you were considering it. “...You don’t want to go back to the Clocktower, right, so, um… where else would you want to… sleep?”

You laugh. “Under the staaaars. ”

“...Okay but that’s not. Very comfortable.” He tilts his head at you, like he’s trying to get you to realize something. “You know that, right…?”

You can only laugh. “Heheeee. I knowwww. I want it to ache in the morning.” 

Isabeau looked… alarmed by that, to say the least. You paused. 

“I mean— I want to feel it. Be different. It’s been— it’s been so long since it’s been different, I just—“

Ah, stars, you’re crying. And smiling. You turn to Isabeau. 

“I want to do something kind of stupid. I need your help to do it, Isa. Can you help me? You want me to ask for help, right, so can you help me?”

He freezes. “Uh. Depends?”

“I need you to find the second best place to camp out under the stars.”

“...Only second best?” He asks, frowning.

“If you bring me to the first best place again I swear that I will do something that will make me end up on the news,” you chirp. “Do your second-best…!”

“Okay—! Okay. Um.” He frowns. “...But what if it’s accidentally third-best? Or fourth-best?”

“As long as it isn’t first place, it’s fine by me,” you reassure. “Bring me somewhere… nice. But not too nice. Somewhere alright .”

“Oookay, Siffarooni. But tomorrow we’re— I mean— you’re sleeping in a proper bed. Deal?”

Usually, you’d just say ‘deal’ in response. But as he gets up, and you get up to follow, you can’t help but giggle. “Heehee, you said ‘weeeeeee.’”

“And? And how come that changes anything?? We share a bed all the time!” He insists, reaching out to stop you from stumbling on a branch. “All the time!”

“ Yeaaaaah,” you sigh dreamily, reaching out to grab onto the back of his shirt. Keep him close. “Buuuuut it’s different now.”

“...Yeah?” Isa spares a glance back at you. “Why’s that, Sif?”

He knooooows why.  

“Because it’s cuz you want to now. Not cuz— not cuz you have to.”

You bury your blushing face into Isa’s back. 

“You liiiiiiiiike me. ”

“I do! I liiiiiike you, Sif!” He says with a smile. All-too-casual. He knows you’re still drunk. He’s just going along for the ride.

“ Welllll . You’re still gonna sleep next to me on the cold dirt. Instead of a warm bed. ‘Cuz you liiiiiiike me.”

“I sure do! And I just found maybe the sixth-best place to fall asleep while looking at the stars! Look!”

Oh… he led you into that same forest again. But this time, it wasn’t a clearing. There were trees all around you, and they reached high up into the sky, blocking your view of the stars.

“...It’s perfect,” you hum.

“IT IS?!” Isabeau asks, in return. “Crab, I messed it up, didn’t I?! Hold on, I’ve got a worse place to show you! I can—”

You laugh, headbutting him in the shin.

“ Shhhhhhh , you beautiful nerd. Shhhhhh.”

You shush him like a lady shushes a spooked horse. He seems to respond well to this, going quiet and still. His cheeks darken.

“You’re— you’re sure this is okay?”

You nod eagerly, hair still damp around the edges and sticking to your face. “You’ve taken me on toooooooo many dates in the best stargazing field in Dormont. I want a different one. And you did it perfect. Love you .”

“Dates—? Oh. Oh Change. Oh my Change.”

Oh, oops. 

He hides his face in his hands. “Siiiiif. Siffrin. Siffarooni. I…I took you on dates? ”

“Well… you never said they were. But they were. You wanted them to be dates, you just couldn’t ask me.” You nudge your head against his side again, almost making him jump. “They totally were. And I loooooove you.”

“Stop…” He kept hiding!! Why was he hiding! You wanted to see! “You know my heart is weak…!!”

Well, only one thing left to do, then. You leaned up on your tiptoes, and gave him a little kiss on the back of his hands.

There’s that sound again! That high tea-kettle-y sound Isa had made when you told him about the first time you kissed him. A dumb smile crosses your face and you lean on him a little, still on your tiptoes. You’re going to spend forever trying to get him to make as many odd little sounds as possible, you think.

“It’s okay, Isa,” you sigh, resting your arms on his shoulders for balance. “We can have a better first date, okay? A real one.”

And you lean back in…

Mmmmmmmmmwah! Another kiss. Then more, faster, mwah, mwah, mwah!!! Across each of his knuckles. 

“Eeeep! Sif, nooooo!”

But he’s giggling, and he says it with such a cute voice! You can’t help but give him one last smooch on his hands.

He stays still a moment too long, and the tiniest bit of shame worms its way into your heart. 

“...Sorry f’r being clingy,” you slur, flopping back down onto the ground. “You’re just… hgmgngmg.”

The grass feels scratchy, which meant it feels nice. You almost make a snow-angel in the nonexistent snow. Just the grass. Feeling its texture along your arms. Wow! You’re alive! You’re alive and the night air is blowing on you and you can’t even predict where it will blow from next!!

Isa sits next to you. You can’t stop smiling at him, even if you tried. You can’t stop giggling either, which makes him smile at you harder at you. He;s so good to you. It makes you feel incredibly guilty that you ever thought of him badly. 

“You’re, like…” You roll closer to him, miscalculating the distance and just kind of bumping your back into his chest a little too hard. “Really smart. Super smart. I don’t know if you know… that I know… that you’re secretly super smart. You bein’ smart saved my life a couple times in there…”

“Heh… oh, no… my secret is out…” He laughs softly. “...Did I tell you about how I was thinking of Changing again, then? ‘Cuz that’s the only time when I’d tell you that.”

“Noooo… well, yeah, you told me, but I also figured that out waaaay before you told me. ‘Cause I’m smart too.  Not nearly as smart as you.” You poke him, gently, on the cheek. “So you’re really thinkin’ about it? Changing again? What’ll you do? Make yourself two centimeters taller? Capital T, Tall?”

“Siiiif…” He whines, pushing your face away with a smile. Gently. Teasingly. “I wouldn’t just want to be two centimeters taller! …But yeah, that’d be the first thing I’d do…”

You kiss his palm idly. It’s easy and so rewarding to pepper his skin with kisses, to see the way his smile goes all wide and flustered with it. You did that. You made him smile like that. 

You clear your throat. “I’ve been thinking about it, myself. Changing, I mean. For a while now. I thought about it a lot, during…”,

You trail off. The loops. He nods at you to continue

“ Yeah.. . At the time I think I wanted to have a body that had never had to go through all that, y’know? But… I dunno. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about.”

“...Yeah. I kinda…kinda feel that way, too.” He shifts, a little, turning so he could face you. Poking at the grass with one of his fingers. “I know it’s not… the same. But it was… I dunno. Being a Defender was my whole thing . But now I don’t… really want it to be. And maybe Changing again would be… nice. For that.”

He smiles softly at you. “...Have you ever Changed? Before…?”

You frown. “...Once, as far as I’m aware.”

You consider losing your memories a kind of Change. Maybe you did change willingly. Maybe your Country was more lax on children Changing. But you won’t ever know for sure.

“...Oh. Sorry.” He gives you a sad glance. “...But, uh. I was also thinking. If you ever wanted to, maybe we could, uh… Change… together?”

He picks a little bit of grass from the ground. Twirls it in his fingers. “Some people do it, I mean. If they’re close. If—if they’re okay with it.”

You thought about it. It… felt nice. It’d make you feel closer to him. 

“ Please? ” You whine, and then realize how desperate that sounded. “I mean. Um. Yes. I— if you’d do it with me. I’d like that. Thanks.”

You are flushed from more than just the alcohol now for sure. Thinking about helping him with the process of it all, massaging his muscles as his body shifted, easing his pain in a real, tangible way. 

The image of him doing the same to you is like touching a hot stove. Too much right now. Your eyes flicker to his hands.

Your head spins.

He laughs, pulling you in for a hug. A close, warm, hug.

“...I’ll ask you again when you’re sober, then,” he hums, nuzzling your hair.

And you were fine with that. Because you knew you’d say yes. If you had to, you would say yes tens, hundreds, thousands of times over.

You wondered if he’d like the way you Changed. You almost wanted to go out as an entirely different person, completely detached from the person you used to be. Maybe even choose a new name to go along with it. But…

No, he’d like it. He’d love it.

Because you’d love him . When he was done, too.

“…I’m not sure how I’d want to change. What if we became big nerds together. I’ve gotten pretty good at research… learned a whole language.”

“You learned a language?” Isa smiles at you, a little skeptical. 

“More like re-learned,” you shrug. “But it’s… I don’t think anyone else can read the words. I think I’m the only person who could. So maybe it’s my job…? To make sure it doesn’t get lost forever?”

“Maybe…” he hums. “Do you want to do that, though?”

You laugh, dryly. “Don’t…don’t ask that. Ask me tomorrow.”

“Oookie-dokie,” he gives you the softest boop on the nose and it makes your head go all rippley, like he’d disturbed the glassy surface of a pond. “How about instead… how did you do that? Just… learn a whole language? Re-learn?”

You don’t remember. Even without the alcohol, you wouldn’t remember how you did it.

…But they’d remember. If they ever came back. 

“Ask me tomorrow,” you repeat, with a giggle.

And wasn’t that something? That saying that meant something now? You’d lost track of how many times you’ve both used that card. I’ll tell you after we beat the king. Tomorrow. 

“Of course, Sif,” he agrees. “We’ve got… a lot to talk about. Don’t rush yourself.”

Isa gave you a lopsided grin. So handsome. 

“So handsome,” you mumble, blinking slowly up at him. 

“Sooooo handsome,” he repeats, giving you a kiss on the top of your head. Hey! He was saying that about you now?! No fair!!

But your eye was getting too tired before you could respond in any coherent way. He kissed you… you liked that. It felt like flowers blooming inside you, like being reminded of what sunshine feels like after a lifetime of winter storms. You shuffle yourself closer, using your arms to hold onto him as closely as you can.

The rise and fall of his breaths remind you of the distant roll of ocean waves. In his arms, you’re home.