Work Text:
Keep you safe
"If you're going to try and persuade me not to do it, then you'd better save your breath and go back inside." The breeze carried Wanderer's words from the railing he was leaning onto towards the dragon behind him.
"I'm not–" Durin sighed. "I guess a part of me wants to do so."
The moon silently watched, its solemn glow providing a comforting blanket to the dragon who felt the chill of his own thoughts.
A frown etched itself on Durin's face, sharpening its usual softness. "I know lending your core is important in our plan and saving many people, but I can't help being worried."
The wind caressed white sleeves, making them billow like a sail fluttering in the middle of the night, casting shadows too faint to dim the lights that brightened the city below the Curatorium of Secrets at night. "It has a high chance of success. Sandrone has sufficient expertise to make it work and give us a chance at defeating Dottore."
"No, not that." Red eyes that held so much warmth peered at the back of a blue hat. "I'm worried about you."
Wanderer waved a hand while Durin came closer to lean on the metal railing beside him. "You should be worried about yourself instead. I'll be fine."
"But you agreed with Miss Sandrone earlier that you could die."
"I guess." A smirk played on his lips. "Heh. I wonder how that feels."
The words burned Durin, and he yelped, "Hat Guy! Don't joke about something like that!"
"Are you really worried?"
He wanted to look at Durin, but a part of him, a small one hidden in the corner where he refused to shine a light on, hesitated and kept him facing the horizon.
"Of course!" Light flowed from Durin's voice and tried to reach out to places rarely touched by the sun.
"Why?"
"What do you mean by why? I told you the risk–"
"No, why do you care about me so much?"
He did not spare his friend's doubt a second to speak a word. "Do you really have to ask? You're my friend."
"Friend, huh." Like a drop of moonlight, memories rippled still water. "A long time ago, someone said that to me too. That I was their friend, a part of their family. But those who said them all left in the end."
All of them perished like dried maple leaves that turned to dust on his palm and were blown away by time towards bygone history. Underneath the stars, he remembered. It was as if he listened closely; the wind would deliver the whisper of footsteps as they danced to a song that did not distinguish between puppets and humans, as well as the laughter of a bright-eyed child who drew stories from constellations. They all sounded wonderful. Beautiful, yet fleeting.
"Is that why you distance yourself?" A question knocked on an invisible wall. "You know, I always feel this wall around you." Words bounced on a hat when it was lowered. "Like you're just steps apart from us, but it was as if you kept yourself miles away."
Durin's voice rang clear amidst the buzz below, though he hoped that it was loud enough to be heard by a soul who needed to hear it. "You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable, but whatever happened in the past, it's not always going to be like that. If people left you before, there will be ones who will stay."
He wanted to laugh at the fact that this dragon, who barely knew the world and has a finite lifespan, would not be able to uphold those words. Still, he had learned the hard way that it was meant to crumble anyway. It was never easy to swallow after he had known the bitterness of betrayal and being abandoned over and over again until it left a lasting aftertaste in his tongue, but he had also realized that just because it would end on a bitter note, it did not mean that meetings did not taste sweet. Perhaps that was why flavors were meant to be savored, enjoyed while their fleeting existence lasted.
The brim of a hat hid away eyes that found the moonlight too bright. "Will you stay and guard my body while I'm unconscious then?"
Durin perked up. "Of course! I'll wait for you to come back."
"What will you do then if I don't wake up?"
The corner of his lips fell. "That... I don't want to even think about it."
"But let's be realistic, there is a possibility of it happening. Just because we want to avert our eyes doesn't mean something ceases to exist." Tassels swayed along with long ribbons attached to a hat like a river that flowed to follow the direction of the wind.
Silence choked the dragon.
"If I shut down permanently, just leave me somewhere and forget about me."
"You know I won't do that."
"You won't, but you should. Do you plan on carrying around what's technically my corpse?"
All light dimmed from the words that tumbled from his mouth, as if they were shooting stars whose trails faded in the endless sky. "I don't understand. Does the topic of dying not really bother you?"
Dying, huh.
Dying was not equivalent to death itself. It was an experience. One that he was acquainted with when he, a nameless puppet, was sentenced to an eternal sleep, when Kabukimono was devoured by the fire of the furnace and the one that he started with the intent to burn himself along with a house by the mountain. He knew its name when he buried who he was to be The Balladeer. He was familiar with its voice when he decided to discard whatever humanity was left in him to become a god. He knew how its breath felt on his skin, for it brushed his body before he erased himself from history.
He had experienced dying numerous times already, but in the end, he lived.
"I've lived a long life, Durin. A long, long one that continues to my next life." The words felt heavy on his mouth, but they made his chest lighter. "I've once tried to remove myself from history. But Irminsul didn't like that and placed me back here. I’ve lived a life wandering a path different from the one I’ve taken before, and had a different set of memories. As I've said, I've experienced my past life and my next life already, when it should have all ended with a quiet death when my creator chose to abandon me." Conviction steeled his grip on the railing. "I'm not afraid of dying."
"But I'm afraid of you dying." Compared to the firmness of the lines he heard, his were soft as the moonlight that bathed his young face. "You're my first friend and a very important one to me. I still want to visit places and do a lot of things with you. So, I hope you cherish your life more because it matters." He hoped his smile would be enough to pry open the wall before him. "Even if it doesn't matter to you, it matters to somebody else."
"... What a pushy little dragon." Playfulness danced on the tip of his tongue.
The moon stilled, surprised at the sight of a smile that had never been offered to it by the puppet for so long.
"But, living won't be that bad anymore, I guess."
The dragon was surprised as well, but his happiness greatly outweighed it the next second. "Hat Guy..."
Wanderer exhaled the remaining sentimentality inside him. "It's getting late, get some sleep."
"How do you expect me to sleep with thoughts about all this?"
He tipped his hat and started walking away. "That's not my problem anymore."
A step,
Another,
Then it halted.
"I'll do my best to let no harm come to your body." The dragon placed a hand over his strongly beating heart. "Even after all this. I'll protect you the way you protect me."
He was still scared.
He was still scared of trusting and being betrayed.
"Alright, I trust you."
But he was now willing to try and trust again.
Wanderer woke up.
His eyelids fluttered open, and purple violet irises were greeted by the sight of Durin's face being merely inches away from them; worry deeply etched on a youthful face.
Discomfort forced him to look away. "...Why are you so close to my face?"
"Ah!" Embarrassment made him flinch away as if he was burned by his own fire. "Sorry about that."
"Hat Guy… D-Do you remember me?" His question trembled at the presence of the possibility of a memory loss after being shut down for an extended period of time.
He swatted away the thoughts flying around the dragon's mind. "Of course I do, Durin."
Tears.
Warmth.
Arms wrapped around him.
He would have stumbled if his still rebooting body stiffened at the sudden contact when Durin dove and embraced him, so tightly that if he were a human, he would not be able to breathe.
It was not the action that took his breath away, but surprise and confusion. "What are you doing?
"Hugging you." He snuggled closer.
"I can clearly see that. I mean, why are you embracing me?"
Durin peels himself off his friend with tears on his face that fell faster than the ground could catch them. "Because I'm glad that you're alive and you still have your memories intact. Albedo said that you should be waking up soon after he returned your core, but you've taken so long to wake up, and I thought–" His sobs almost made it impossible to continue. "I thought..."
He did not have a heart, but something in him ached. "I'm okay, see? So calm down."
"Hat Guy..." Durin wiped his face. However, joy overflowed from his eyes, its cusp unable to hold the relief that beat in his chest.
"Silly kid. Stop crying." He huffed but smiled, letting Durin hug him just for a little longer.
Just a little longer, yes.
Just a few more seconds to let himself melt into the warmth he had long missed.
Extra deleted scene:
Durin sits beside the sleeping Hat Guy.
Durin: He might get cold, so I’ll sit with him to keep him warm.