Work Text:
The threads of Adaine’s comforter come loose where her worried fingernails pick at it, unraveling little by little until the pale green thread makes a mess of her sheets and is sprinkled across the unfinished draft of her last Arcane Histories essay. The peeling walls of Mordred Manor groan on the old foundations, especially loud tonight as the deluge of rain and wind on the roof of the tower join in on the late night symphony of Adaine’s bedroom.
Her eyes slip over to Boggy where he is fast asleep beside her pillow, unbothered by the cacophony on the other side of the wall. Lucky boy . She had tried to trance early tonight, hilariously, but once the patterning of water on the thin roof began she knew it was useless. It was evidently going to be a long night. Adaine thought she could try to be productive at least, but as she chewed on the end of her quill and stared blankly at the parchment in front of her, she knew that trying to finish her assignment was a lost cause as well. With a huff, she throws the meager essay to the side and throws her head back down onto the pillow, glaring at the mildewing wooden beams across the ceiling. She can feel the thin hairs on her arm stand on end as her already drafty room seems to get even colder as the storm rages on beyond her window.
Her pointer fingernail scrapes against her thumb as they lay across her blanket as mind starts to wander to different things. The Bad Kids had had another day of shenanigans at Aguefort, eagerly awaiting the last day of classes in a week, before their final summer break as high schoolers. Kristen was prematurely starting to exercise her privileges as Student Body President, no matter how many times Riz and Mazey tried to tell her that her term hadn’t yet begun. Fig and Fabian had only egged her on, of course, while Adaine and Gorgug watched in incredulous resignation. Adaine leaned up against her lockers and shook her head at the absolute tomfoolery of it all, and she felt normal for the first time in a while. Her friends were still her friends, even after everything they have been through, young and ridiculous and wonderfully untethered.
The relaxed smile remained on her lips as she scanned the halls around them, just waiting for the bell signaling them to shuffle to their respective classrooms. Only, her eyes snagged on the bit of blue scale at the far end of the hall. His thin glasses perched precariously on the edge of his long nose, and his loose fitting button up doing nothing to hide the filled out form of his shoulders. He nodded along to something Ivy was telling him as he piled his books into his arms from his own locker. Only when he lifted his head to reply, his eyes caught onto Adaine’s, his lips parted in an unspoken word.
Her mouth had gone dry and the smile wiped from her face as she snatched the stare away to focus back onto her friends, willing their loud energy to be enough distraction to keep her mind occupied. Everything’s fine. Just calm down. She resisted the urge to chew on the skin of her fingers by shoving them into her jacket pockets and focused on Fig and Gorgug’s band jargon, her heartbeat slowing. At least until she was sat 3 rows behind him in Sorcery III, and had to listen to their substitute Professor drone on about subtle spells as if they hadn’t learned all about that in their freshman year. She kept her head down for most of the period, not feeling too bad since there wasn’t much she could learn in the last week, from a sub nonetheless. If he happened to walk past her desk more times than necessary to toss away trash from his desk, what does it matter to her? Ugh.
Rolling over onto her side under her sheets, she shoves her face into her pillow and squeezes her eyes painfully shut, trying to block out any and all thought, futilely. It was stupid. She was stupid. To still be kept up at night thinking of the stupid dragonborn who was under a stupid rage curse for the better part of a year whom she barely spoke to until the beginning of the stupid school year. Whatever, it’s not like it even mattered. She doesn't care. It’s another dumb hurdle to overcome before her senior year, no biggie. He probably doesn’t e-
Ow .
The skin around her thumb begins to bleed from her ministrations, and she brings it up to her mouth to suck the blood away before it gets to her already ruined covers. How wonderful. Writing the rest of that essay is going to suck until this heals. A loud crack of thunder shakes the Manor, and Adaine pushes her covers down and reaches for her crystal, unplugging it from its charger and opens Momenstagram. She scrolls through her feed, absentmindedly liking different pictures from her peers, and reposting promotions for upcoming Fig and the Cig Figs’ shows. She lands on a recent from Gorgug; a vague picture of a wooden carving hung on a wall of a kuo-toa wearing a bucket hat, sitting on a log and fishing by a pond, presumably taken from Mary Ann’s dad’s workshop, posted cryptically without a caption.. But it's not the plaque that gives her pause, but the reflection in the mirror beside it on the very edge of the picture, where she catches a glimpse of those same blue scales. Half of Oisin’s face is cut off and mostly blurry, but she could see the way his head was thrown back in a laugh at an unseen subject.
Seriously, what the fuck . Adaine, growing increasingly more agitated at the way the universe loves to mess with her head, throws her phone to the far corner of the mattress, charging be damned. Her tired but unresting eyes stare at the dark ceiling once more, and her hands return to her mouth so her teeth can gnaw on the ragged edges of her thumbnail.
Puffs of air whisper across the Oracle’s cheek from Boggy’s heavy breathing, and her window shakes on the frame from the force of the winds. Her short hair tickles her ears from where it is bunched up against her pillow. She thinks back to a conversation she had with Riz yesterday evening.
They were sitting in the kitchen at Mordred together, helping each other finish up the last of their assignments, taking advantage of the rarely quiet house.. She was lost in thought when she heard the shorter goblin boy clear his throat and start to speak.
“Hey, uh, you excited for next Friday?’ He’s referring to the end of school powwow Fabian’s throwing at Seacaster Manor, under the promise to be wrapped up by 3 A.M. to Hallariel and a long- suffering Gilear. She blinks at him as she mulls over the answer.
Overall, yes she is very excited. It’s the long awaited finish line to this never ending marathon of a school year. One that was meant to be cake and lemonade and full of nonsense with her best friends, turned to yet another armageddon level threat wanting to wipe out her entire town. Finally wrapped up in a neat little bow. However, a small bit of her knows deep down, she is dreading it as well. She knows that by inviting the entire student body to his house, of course, the former Rat Grinders are going to come as well. A part of her short-circuiting brain turns all of her words to ash in her mouth as she tries to form an adequate answer for her friend.
The same part of her that turns her palms slick with sweat when she stands near the ophidian boy, instances growing more common as The Bad Kids try to turn a new leaf with their former nemeses and Gorgug explores… whatever it is he has going on with Mary Ann. The part of her that makes her heartbeat pick up when he awkwardly tries to join in on whatever nonsense conversation is being had at their lunch table. The part of her that makes the hair on the back of her neck stand on end when he joins in on the chorus of laughter from people who wanted him dead just a month prior. The part of her that turns the milk from her lunch sour in her stomach as he tries to entice her into joining the conversation from where she picks at her lunch tray, a seemingly open and courteous smile placed carefully on his lips, like everything is fine.
She hardly gives him the satisfaction, giving him tightlipped smiles and diverting her attention to words that fall onto her deaf ears as she tries to keep her line of eyesight away from him. Because everything is not fine for Adaine. Not yet. And it’s not fucking fair. She envies the way her friends could carry on so seamlessly. None of the events of the term had impacted them too badly, mostly just a thorn in their sides and a major headache for Kristen trying to win Cassandra back. And a literal headache for Riz and his masterful juggling of his 26 clubs. Once the major threat to their summers and livelihoods was gone, the offenders seemingly remorseful and contrite for their actions, her friends kind of wanted to forget about it all and try to finish the semester with their heads above the water. But of course, Adaine’s stupid brain couldn’t get with the program. She had to keep the tight ball of emotion locked away and forgotten, but the harder she tries to shove it into the closet, the more it threatens to blow the door off its hinges.
The ball of emotion that whispers to her, Do you remember how he used to look at you? Maybe every time he spoke to you he was really plotting different ways he wanted to kill you while your friends watched. The soft curves of his arms as he wrote in his spellbook, the glyphs etched there moving along the muscle underneath. Probably the same arm to grab Kettlefuck and escape after slitting Buddy’s throat. The way he couldn’t concentrate on pong after one conversation with you. Not that it was real. Nothing ever was. Those same ping pong balls had been part of their long con against your party. A ruse to get your hopes up and move his plans along. It was never about you. She was well acquainted with the daunting thoughts, playing on a loop every time she even so much as walked past him in the halls. The only person to seem to want her back, and none of it was true. It couldn’t be. Perhaps she just wasn’t meant for that stuff yet. Like Jawbone would say, everyone's time comes eventually. She just didn't expect her waiting room to be so overwhelmingly frustrating and degrading.
She can’t help watching as her friends find their “other halves”, some already finding their second, and be filled with a strong sense of want . And it’s not like Adaine craves validation or purpose from anyone. She’s been able to find that for herself, in her friendships and with the repaired relationship with Aelwyn. In her own abilities as a strong wizard and a damn good guidance counselor to help when her anxiety tries to get the best of her. She doesn’t need anyone to make her whole . She just didn't expect the way his clear hazel eyes pierced right into her very being, from the first conversation, and the way his voice made her breath hitch even when he had projected his words into her mind, undermining her authority as the goddamned Oracle .
Unable to find the words to elucidate this to Riz, she simply tells him, “Yeah, totally. Super pumped,” before dropping her gaze back down to her assignment, the words melting off the page. She can feel Riz’s confused stare drilling into the top of her head but she tries her hardest to ignore it, trying to pull her focus from Oisin Hakinvar’s stupid face and back to the different methods of rune inscription. Eventually, he goes back to his chicken scratch.
Minutes pass, before Adaine feels a bit bad at how she cut the conversation short. He doesn’t know. She racks her brain for a way to pick the thread back up, and she asks him a simple question.
“Do the Rat Grinders bother you at all anymore?” YIKES. Too much. Whatever, too late to go back now.
Riz’s expression would be hilarious if it didn’t make her stomach turn horribly. “Um, well, first I don’t know if they are going by the Rat Grinders anymore, second, no? Not really? They don’t seem to hate us anymore and I didn’t have the energy to waste by hating them back anyway so… They’re fine,” he shrugs and pauses to think before continuing with, “Um, why?”
The blonde simply waves her hand in dismissal and says, “No just, it’s a bit weird to me, I guess? Our junior year, gone by being at war with them just for it to… kind of stop? Just like that? It’s all- I don’t know what I’m saying, sorry.” She shakes her head and tries to get back to work, hoping he drops it, but really who is she kidding, it’s Riz.
“Adaine, are you ok? Did they say something to you or anything? FUCK, do you think the curse was never really broken? Oh jeez, should we call the others?” Adaine shoots her hands up to shush him before he worries himself into an investigative frenzy unnecessarily.
She ended up calming his nerves to the best of her ability, blaming it on the stress of getting her remaining work done before the creeping deadline, and she was able to get him to drop it and not alert the others of their nonexistent threat. She could still feel him glance at her every now and then, and she pretended not to notice. After a few hours, when he packed up his stuff and went to walk out the front door, he paused and turned to give Adaine an awkward blink-and-you'll-miss-it hug, before scurrying off the porch and jumping into Sklonda’s SUV. With the slam of a car door, they disappear around a corner and Adaine closes the front door, feeling strangely comforted.
So now, as the rain pounds even harder on the roof, Adaine whips her covers off and swings her legs off her bed, climbing down from the top bunk. She pulls the throw blanket down with her, wrapping it around her shoulders. Her bare feet shuffle along the creaky boards and she manages to find her way to the kitchen, hoping to put herself into trance via Berry Nutty Crunchies-induced-coma. When she turns the corner into the kitchen , she finds Kristen is wrapped in a blanket burrito mirroring her own, staring intensely into the fridge. Wisps of Kristen’s choppy red hair peeks out from the hood of her fuzzy zebra patterned blanket and she snaps her head towards Adaine, bleary eyes questioning.
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.” She grins sleepily before pulling the jug of milk from the top shelf and sets it down next to a bowl and a technicolored box of borderline radioactive berry flavoured cereal. Adaine reaches into the cupboard and pulls down a second bowl, setting it next to Kristen’s before plopping into a chair, head leaning on her hand. The red head’s side eye is severe but she pours the cereal out into both bowls and produces a second spoon. She sets Adaine’s down in the center of the table though, making her have the reach forward to get it. She sticks her tongue out at her giggling best friend before knocking her foot against hers in thanks. They eat without conversation, the only sound coming from the subdued downpour of rain outside and the slurping of milk.
When Adaine finishes hers first, as Kristen’s head keeps drooping, threatening to fall straight into the bowl, she moves the bowl out of the way and sticks her own into the sink. On her way out, she pats at Kristen’s back and goes to float back to her room, but is stopped by Kristen’s muffled voice.
Her face is smushed against her folded arms, but her eyes are sharper when she asks, “You alright, Ad?”
Adaine is surprised for a moment before schooling her expression to one more neutral. Kristen’s gaze is steady as Adaine stands at the threshold of the kitchen, and she feels like a deer in headlights. Is she really so obvious?
“Yeah, I’m okay.” She gives Kristen a small smile, met with a sleepy nod before she finally falls back to sleep on the table. Her back is gonna be fucked in the morning. She lets out a small huff of a laugh before padding her way back up to her tower, falling back into the mattress..
She rolls over onto her side, and feels warmer in her sheets as she feels her eyes grow heavier. The sugary, artificial taste of the cereal sits heavy on the back of her tongue and she pulls her covers up to her chin. The thoughts don’t stay away, but they don’t feel as staggering as before. They whisper to her instead of a haunting chant and Adaine sighs deeply through her nose as feels herself begin to drift. Things will work out. Her thoughts will not get the best of her. No matter what the truth of the matter is with Oisin, she knows one thing for sure. Her friends will be there to pick her every single time she falls down.