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The Lantern Fae are an auspicious bunch.
A fae’s role in the world is typically to become an arbiter of nature. Often working in tandem with the natural, heavenly laws. But…what about Lantern Fae?
These types of Fae are most active in the winter mountains. They often use lanterns to guide weary travelers. All those with good hearts see the warmth of a cold light. All those that don’t…face the wrath of a mighty goddess.
Fae like this are exceptionally rare. As they are the only ones to directly interact with humans. Uniquely, they are also the only ones capable of passing judgement onto worthiness to live, or right to die.
Flins was an outlier. He lived further south of Snezhnaya. In protest of the new queen’s rule. He resides by a cemetery, watching over the phantoms and ghouls. By a lighthouse that guides all those that are lost.
He will never win the fight against his nature. The earlier he accepts this, the sooner he’s liberated.
From afar, he watches as the soldiers from his homeland invade his new home. These people can’t seem to leave him alone. Everywhere he looked, from the south, west, to east, there was the Tsaritsa’s influence everywhere.
“When did she become so overbearingly controlling???” He asked himself, sipping directly on his bottle of wine whilst throwing out curse words into the wind. “Typical Anastasya!” He yelled.
He downed a full bottle. Swaying his feet as he aired out his grievances for the rotted corpses to hear. “I hate Ana!” He yelled.
As he opened his eyes, his gaze suddenly landed on a distant figure, walking over to the construction area. It wasn't any of his business. But his instincts told him to go after them. He couldn't shake off the sense of both worry and concern.
As she got closer, he made his decision. Better safe than sorry, as they say. He picked up his staff, and lunged himself forward. Making haste to calm down the future dangers.
He stopped a few meters behind. Not wanting to step up if his help wasn't needed. She spoke to them about peace offerings. Speaking politely if they would leave her people alone. The poor woman even offered them delicate silks.
It went just as Flins expected. The lackeys told her off. Speaking to her as if she was a second grade human. What gull from people who are less valuable than the dirt beneath a harbinger’s shoes.
“Is this a joke? Your low grade rags aren’t of value to us!”
Even though the woman wasn't in any physical danger, it irked him just how disrespectful they were being. If he still used his title, he’d have them work in the trenches of hell!
“Why don’t you go home, and tell your people they start forgetting about their traditional garb and learn to party like a real snezhnayan!” The man shoved her. Rough enough to make her fall. Yet she didn't. She dug her heels deep into the soil.
Lucky for her, a single tap was all he needed to step up. He walked closer, his glowing staff gaining the attention of the soldiers nearby. “Is that how gentlemen behave? Doesn't your training regimen invoke strict disciplinary actions?”
“Who the hell are you-?!”
“The Tsaritsa may be a fiend, but even she knows the necessity of courtesy and politeness. It’s one of the very few things she believes in.”
“How dare you speak about the Tsaritsa like that?!”
Flins simply hummed. “Did you know your goddess can’t sleep with a nightlight on up until she was 20?”
A confused “HUH?!” heard from the surrounding soldiers.
“It’s true. Whenever we’d have slumber parties, she always makes me light up my lantern just a little bit.”
A brave soldier stepped up. “First of all why were you having sleepovers until you were 20?!”
The Lantern Fae looked at him, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “Because they were fun.”
One of them held out a hand. “What a liar! There’s no way the Tsaritsa would participate in something so childish!”
“Slumber parties are not childish.”
Suddenly, a mechanical woman approached their crowd. Trying to discern why there were so many people gathering. “Count Flins! What do you think you’re doing here?!”
“I could ask you the same thing, Sandrone.” Flins crossed his arms. “Did Ana send you all to this specific area just to piss me off?!”
“W-!” Sandrone groaned. “The reason for our base’s locations is none of your business!”
“Then you guys must be hiding something.” Flins eyed her like a stray dog.
“We are not!” She huffed. “What do you want?!”
“Your underlings are bullying my friend.” He motioned to the confused woman.
Quickly, Sandrone scolds them. But apparently, that’s not enough for Flins.
“And tell this woman how beautiful her handmade silks are!”
“Yeah, whatever he just said!”
The soldiers proceeded to reluctantly compliment her craftwork.
“Maybe you would like it, Sandrone?” He suggested, intending to full-on pressure her into taking it.
“Whatever…it is quite nice.” She snaps her fingers, and takes the garment off Lauma’s hands.
Fully satisfied with himself, Flins clicks his heels and walks off. “Well, that’s all from us! See you later, pawn.”
“You jackass! I heard that!” Sandrone yelled back before interrogating her underlings. “What was he even talking about???”
The brave soldier from earlier spoke up once again. “Does…the Tsaritsa actually like slumber parties…?”
Confused, yet hit with a sudden realization. “Oh, that’s why she’s always curious about my sleeping habits…” She muttered.
Lauma was following helplessly behind him. Wishing to display her gratitude, but she had no more gifts to give.
“My thanks to you. Count Flins, was it?”
“Yes. And it's not trouble at all. Although I’m not a part of that life anymore. You may simply call me Flins.”
She smiled. “I’m Lauma. I’m the leader of the Frostmoon scions.”
“And I’m a…” He paused, unsure of how far he should lead her. “I’m a lightkeeper now.”
“How lucky I am to be graced by the presence of such a gallant noble man.” She follows behind him.
“Don’t worry. It’s in my nature.” A stray thunderclap rang from a distance.
“Oh, dear… I hope I don't get caught by the storm…”
“Is your home far from here?”
“Oh, I’m afraid so…It took me a few hours to get here.”
He suddenly gazed down at her feet. He noticed some reddish marks around her ankles, and in the dents of her leg. “You must’ve been so tired…And you have such a long way to go.”
The clouds seem to grumble. “I guess I’ll just take the chance…”
His heart ached for a second. “I can’t let you. You’ve gone through so much, and you’re already thinking of doing more?”
“My people might worry for me.”
Rain fell from the skies to their bodies. “The clouds don't want you to go anywhere…”
She stares up, breathing a long sigh. Before she knew it, he covered her head with his cloak. “The lighthouse is nearby, it’d do both of us good that you at least stay once the rain has subsided.”
Reluctantly, she agreed. She already appeared as pitiful as a doe. His protectiveness wasn't lost to her. The way he guided her. How he defended her from Fatui… How his heat bounced off of her own skin.
So this is what it feels like to be the one getting taken care of…
Once they arrived at the Lighthouse, the skies cried till their eyes dried.
Having never had guests before, he didn't get a chance to tidy up the place. It looked as neat and tidy as an academia fraternity. He quickly grabbed a towel, looking away for her to dry herself off.
Whilst she dried herself off, she couldn't help but be curious. About him, this lighthouse, and his past.
“So…Slumberparties?” She watched as he rummaged around the room, trying to get her some warm clothes.
“Used to have them a lot back in Snezhnaya” He responds.
“Right. But…why?” The towel went its way up to her hair, and to the tips of her antlers.
“Tradition…and fun, I suppose.” He found an old ratnik’s uniform. It would suffice, for now. “Back home, all the nobles within a 5 year age difference were always together. Like a pre-packaged friend group. You don't really have a choice, since it’s forbidden to interact with anyone outside of your rank.”
She chuckled. “But why sleepovers, specifically??? And up till that old age…?”
Flins hummed. He personally draped the cloak over her shoulders. “The nobles of my homeland have a diverse set of biologies. We’re fairies, humans, elves…” He paused. The memories suddenly flood over him. “Fairies and Elves live a long life, but humans don’t. So I guess in turn, our species matures a little late compared to humans.”
“I’m sorry, I never realized this was a sensitive topic for you…”
“It’s alright! We had a lot of fun! That’s just how it is, good things never last.”
“Well…” She placed her hands on her lap. “If good things keep on coming, then that means good does last!”
He chucked, looking down at her with much amusement. “I’m not mad at that logic!” His body settles right beside her, the roar of the outside muffled by a sense of affection. “Tell me if those Fatui scum bother you again. Next time, I’m going straight to Tsaritsa!”
Lauma gave him a cheeky, full smile. “I couldn't imagine it… you going to the head of a nation just because they bothered me!”
“Oh, I’ll do it! I’ve argued with her for much less!”
They both laughed. Sudden familiarity washing over them both. Barely has it been an hour, but it feels like they’ve known each other for years.
“Might I overstep for a moment?” He turned to her, leaning a tad bit too close. “Why in the world were you approaching Fatui's new base, all alone, on foot, with nothing but the silks you intended to give them?”
She started to rub her shoulders for warmth, unsure of what answer to give. “I didn't want my people to fuss. I thought if I handled it myself, the issues would be resolved.”
With a sigh, and a shake of the head, he lightly scolds her. “Fatui soldiers aren't as reasonable as you think they are. Especially newbies! It likely wouldn't go as smoothly as you thought it would!”
“I know…I suppose it was a last attempt to gain their good graces.”
He watches the way her eyes move. How her face wore this weary, and tired undertone. He saw her as if he had x-ray vision. “You’re kind. But I’m not sure if I like that.”
“And you’re eccentric.” She smiled. “I like that.”
They laughed it off, the rain starting to make itself known by getting stronger.
“This storm isn't going anywhere, it seems…”
“You’re welcome to stay here. But do excuse the mess. I’m…not usually the messy type.”
She waves her hand, laughing at his shy excuse. “It’s no trouble. I’m just glad I have a safe place to stay.”
“I’m relieved that you see me as someone safe to be around. The highest compliment any woman can give a man.”
“How could I not? You have a sense of childish formality to you that I can't help but trust.” She bumped her shoulder onto his.
Suddenly making both of them aware of their intimate proximity to each other. Loud, deafening storms. Muffling the sounds the living make. A dark, candlelit proximity that held only the two of them.
“Ehem,” He stands up, spooked by their closeness. “How about some dinner? I make a good Ukha.”
“If it's not a bother, I’d like to help!”
They didn't speak much, but they cooked in tandem. Like they were given a free slice of a life they could have.
“I’m not used to eating one on one with someone…back at the tribe, we eat in the commune.” Lauma flutters her lashes, trying to fan the smoke out of her eyes.
Immediately, he noticed this. Pulling out a long sheet of metal to act as a barrier. “You’re from the Frostmoon scions, aren’t you? I’d love to visit one day.”
“Oh, yes! You should! I’ll be sure to have my people give you a warm welcome!” She smiled. His act of protectiveness did not go unnoticed by her.
Quickly, they fixed up dinner. Eating by the light of a few candles. “If it’s too dark, just tell me. I'll illuminate the place as bright as a solar flare!”
She shook her head. “No, no! This is perfect! Very romantic.”
“Romantic…?” His mouth agape, an eyebrow raised. “And you’re accepting of being romantic with me?”
“I didn't think about it that way! Simply put… the ambiance is romantic!” Her ears started to point upward. Could it have been a sign of embarrassment?
“Yes…my mistake, m’lady.” He tried focusing on his food, but his eyes couldn't help but land on her. Every sound she made, the motions she moved. It made him suddenly perk and take notice.
“I’ll wash the cutlery, Sir Flins.” She finally spoke.
“Just Flins is fine. And I can’t let a guest do any chores!”
“Hm…well, how about we negotiate?”
Curious once more, he agreed. “Go ahead?”
“I would like to be responsible for the cutlery. And in exchange…you may do any chores for me, I would not complain! But-! Only one chore!”
“Hm…enticing. But fine, who am I to bicker about extra help?” To close the deal, they shook on it.
Little did Lauma know, he had a devilishly chivalrous plan.
As soon as they finished their meal, he had her remain by the kitchen, where she washed the cutlery. Upstairs, Flins prepared the bedroom to be the most comfortable abode in the land.
He barely used the extra beddings, so he was glad to put them to work. At that point, the bed had so many pillows, it was impossible not to have a good slumber.
Afterwards, he called her upstairs, to surprise her. The action made her gasp in surprise.
“Flins! This is…quite chivalrous of you; But hold on! Where will you be sleeping?!”
“Downstairs, of course! How could I sleep next to the presence of a lady? We are both unmarried! It is crude!”
“Oh, I wouldn't mind!” She crossed her arms. “But slumber parties with the Tsaritsa is perfectly fine to you, isn't it!?”
Her words made him stammer. “We were childhood friends! And we’ve only met today!”
“Well, if I didn't know any better, we’ve been friends since forever!” She looked around the room, seeing a couch.
Without another word, she approached it, and pushed it a tad closer to the bed.
“What on earth are you doing?!” He tried to stop her, but with much strength, she successfully had it by the bedside.
“I won’t have you sleep in discomfort!” She shared the pillows from the bed, to the couch. “You’ve been nothing but a humble gentleman! I won’t go to sleep without paying it back by an inch!”
Watching her move made him smile. What a stubborn woman… “Very well. But as courtesy, this is the line we both mustn’t cross!” He pointed to the crack between the couch and the bed.
“Fine by me!” She finally smiles.
Before long, they’d start to snuggle up in their own respective rests. Lauma was utterly comfortable. However, Flin’s legs spilled out of the couch’s end. They were hanging awkwardly, horizontally sticking up.
“My, maybe we should just share the bed together…?” She said, looking down at his free feet.
Finding the ordeal humorous, he laughed. “I know how to fix this.” After a moment, his human body turned into a violet lantern.
“So beautiful…” She marveled at the dim light. “I understand why you're Tsaritsa's favorite night light!
He chuckled. The voice that radiated from the lamp was a cold color. Yet it’s warmth…it’s voice…it was so warm.
“I’m getting tired…” She whispered, staring at the comforting light like a moth to a flame.
“Goodnight, Miss Lauma. Sleep well.” He hummed. Remaining in his lantern form as a guard dog. Making sure not a fly lands on her ashy purple hair. Waiting for the rain to finally subside.
The rain left as the early dawn arrived. Reluctantly, he packed her some fruits for the road ahead. She denied the courtesy, but with his charming insistence, she folded.
Being the gentleman he is, he guided her through the muddy path. Chartering a ferryman to take her. It was still dark outside, and the ferryman still held an expression of exhaustion. He paid double. Flins made sure the ferryman was paid enough to put much care into getting her where she needs to be.
“That’s far too much for you to pay, Flins!”
He simply held a soft smile. “Whatever makes you safe.” He made sure her new cloak was buttoned correctly, before holding his hand out to anchor her.
She obliged, locking eyes with him, not watching her step. As if she knew he had her, and would never let her slip. “I’ll be back to repay your kindness.”
“I won’t argue with you.” he finally let go of her hand, signaling for the ferryman to take her off.
He watched her back for a while. Catching her stealing quick glances. Yet she retracts every time she realizes he’s still looking at her.
Foolishly enough, watching her leave made Flins blush and grin like an idiot. Singing a soft tune as he went back to his humble abode. A tune that an enchanting love song starts with.