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As Ser Bek rides her steed Garnet into the Blue Kingdom, she does have a moment’s pause. The small voice of reason in her brain pointing out she is not meant to be here, this is not her home. Then she spies Eloise on the hill, in the middle of a match of farkle outside her home.
Bek continues on through the gates.
“It just forces you to take low hands! You stupid cheat!” El scowls at the ‘merchant’ across from her. Their face was shrouded in the darkness of their hood, all details obscured. Just like their two friends, and unlike every other merchant, Pickpocket had stuck around the kingdoms for days, inviting challenges from everyone and never playing fair. El regretted playing them as soon as she realized one of her dice was gone and they conveniently had an extra, but they haven’t reached six thousand points to end the game yet.
“Better luck next time…” Or not. Pickpocket winks (winks!) at her, blue eyes glowing through the hood as triple ones stare up at her from the table. In one smooth movement, they sweep up all the dice on the table into a golden pouch before walking down the path, smug as can be.
“Dammit,” El mutters, before blinking. “Hey, you still have one of my dice!” They were already gone, disappeared into the darkness in a way that was almost too fast to be human. With another cry of frustration she begins to pace around. Until she turns back to her door.
“Oh. Hello Bek.” The knight stands in silence in her doorway, helmet off. El chooses not to comment on this as the knight returns her greeting. “What a fun game, isn’t it?” She asks with an eyeroll, gesturing to the table. “Don’t be tempted to play those hooded travellers, all they do is cheat and steal.”
“Yes of course, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Bek responds, earnest as always. “What have you been doing today, aside from farkle?”
“Well, I’ve improved Nom’s house for him, the roof was only half done. I’ve also looked at the mage’s tower. Scott built it, and I’ve got to finish the top section.” El looks in the direction of the tower, though it isn’t visible due to the blacksmith in the way.
“The mage tower? May I see it?” When she turns back around Bek is just staring at her. El quickly turns down the path towards the tower, leading the way.
“I haven’t put anything in it yet,” El doesn’t want to get Bek’s expectations too high. “And it’s not very accessible to those who can’t fly.” The knight seems unbothered by her warnings, just following behind.
Bek only speaks once they reach the tower.
“It’s quite nice.” She pauses at the entrance, staring upwards. She follows El inside, still marveling at the walls to the point where she almost walks into the water cascading down from the ceiling. “What is this magic?”
“It’s water,” El says with a giggle. “Scott enchanted this. Swim up, the top bit’s mine.” Like a duck to water, pun absolutely intended, she makes her way up the stream, with Bek splashing behind.
“This tower was not designed for those with armor in mind.” Bek says with a frown once they arrive, dripping onto the floor. El was practically dry already, between buoyant feathers and some air magic. “It’s a little narrow.”
“That’s okay, I’ll need to put in a ladder to get to the top for those who can’t fly-”
“You do not want to be contained.” El pauses, taking in Bek’s frown, now thoughtful, and the furrow of her brow.
“The walls are not a prison, and it’s far more open at the top.”
“Could you help me ascend? To see it?”
“I may try.” So after flying to the top herself, El wields her staff. She concentrates on the feeling of the sky, letting the magic channel through her. A vortex of air forms on the floor, spiraling upwards.
After a moment Bek is swept up with a surprised yelp, floating to be level with El before dropping back to her feet with unexpected lightness. Her voice is higher pitched when she next speaks, and El wishes her helmet was off so she could see her face.
“So you do have access to the open sky then.” She says, satisfied. “You could probably even fly to the castle from here.” El feels a grin form on her face, watching Bek survey the kingdom from a height she must rarely ever reach.
“Oh, definitely. I can fly anywhere.”
Bek thinks her… reconnaissance is going quite well. Eloise leads her around the Blue Kingdom, daring her to find and chase in an almost childish game of hide-and-seek, with an ever-present gleam of amusement in her eyes. The night is all theirs, and Bek would have it no other way.
Until Eloise leads her to the sewers. Bek drops down behind the mage, confused at the sudden leaving of the courtyard they had been in prior.
“Am I supposed to be following you?” Eloise doesn’t answer, apart from an airy giggle. Bek’s eyes adjust just in time to see her darting down the tunnel, glancing over her shoulder.
Until she slips on a stream of water, falling too fast for Bek to process… into nothing. The mage disappears over a ledge Bek hadn’t even realized was there. A yell echoes through the sewers before being cut off with a thump.
Bek rushes to the edge, looking down in horror. El’s bag had opened, scattering her things. No sign of movement. Bek rushes to swim down the column of water El had surely meant to take down deeper into the sewers.
“Hello? Eloise?” she croaks, dropping to the ground. The mage is on the ground, staff in her hand as if she had time to pull it out but not enough to cast a spell. Bek falls to her knees beside her, tossing the stick to the side.
“Oh no, no, no!” Forcing her hands not to tremble, and her mind to recall three years of training, she searches for the source of injury.
Her head is fine and she’s breathing, thank the God of Knights and any other out there.
The arm that hadn’t been holding the staff is at an odd angle. A large piece of metal, from a sewer grate or something else, is stuck in her leg, a small puddle of red staining her gown and the floor.
Okay, nothing fatal (and Bek can barely bring herself to think that word). With still-trembling hands, Bek slowly props El against the wall.
“What do I do, what do I do?” Surely she can’t leave? What if something happens? But Bek is no doctor, El could be dying while she just stands here!
“El, I need you to wake up.” Bek pleads, shaking her as much as she dares. Nothing. Okay, okay, this is fine, surely she just needs to-
“Ser Bek?”
“Eloise!” Bek gasps, her head collapsing onto the mage’s shoulder. She feels herself start to cry. “You’re alive.” She brings her head up again, looking at her face. El’s eyes are glazed, meeting her own in a way that doesn’t convince Bek she’s truly seeing. “Are you okay? Where are you hurt?”
It takes El a moment to respond. “I cushioned it. My fall. I don’t think it did much at all though.”
“You would have died.” Bek’s voice cracks. “I think you did more than enough. What of your injuries?”
“You seem very worried. Remember I’m evil and defective and of the Blue Kingdom.”
“I don’t care! And you know I didn’t mean it like that.” Bek can’t help but add, choking back more tears. One of her hands had moved from El’s shoulder to hold her hand at some point. She uses the other arm to wipe at her face. “Stop dodging the question.”
“I’ll be alright, we have healing magic.” El’s eyes are closed, head leaned back against the wall.
“Then I’ll get someone at once. Our healer, or is the flower mage closer?” El’s hand on hers is the only thing keeping Bek from sprinting off.
“If you do that they’ll know we were meeting in secret.” The mage says with a shake of her head. “Give me a moment, then we can get to the mage’s tower. I’ll change my spells and it will be like nothing ever happened.” The grimace on her face says otherwise.
“I don’t care about being exposed if it comes at the cost of your life.” Bek tries to pull away, but El’s hand tightens its grip around hers.
“Well I do, and it’s my life, so you’re not going.” Her eyes aren’t glazed anymore, and are instead glaring at her. “Just thirty minutes, let my body stop aching. Then we’ll go back to the tower.”
“But-”
“Please, Bek? I’ll be okay, I promise.” They stare at each other for what feels like a long time. Bek searches for something, she isn’t sure what. El is steady, unwavering. Aside from the tremble of her hand.
“Twenty minutes.” Bek says, sitting down on the floor. The stone is cold, damp, and hard. They’ll have to clean her wound, this place is filthy. “Here, eat this, it won’t be too hard on your stomach. We’ll probably need your magic to get you back up.” She holds out a piece of bread, which El takes with a muttered thanks.
Bek turns to begin gathering El’s things, heart still racing too fast to feel useless. El’s hand squeezes hers again.
“Sit by me.” It’s not a question, but a command. How could Bek refuse?
So they sit, El leaning on Bek’s shoulder, in a dark and dirty sewer, with the faintest smell of blood in the air. The only sound is the whisper of El’s breathing. Bek is worried out of her mind, resisting the urge to go get help anyways only out of respect for her mage. El is trying to act normal, in spite of her pained side and racing heart.
Some part of each of them, the part focused on their intertwined hands no doubt, is content nonetheless.