Chapter Text
Buck found himself in his favorite room.
It was a hidden place in a far corner of the palace; a long-forgotten sketch room or something left behind by some long-dead king or queen, if the supplies in the room were anything to go off of; or perhaps a gallery turned into a storage closet.
There was a chair there.
An incredibly comfortable chair that Buck tended to fall into after he finished his knightly shift.
Buck slumped into that favorite chair of his, gazing up at the ribbed dome above; at the seashell motif carved into the stone.
He found himself sinking further into his chair as he sighed.
It had been a dull day of, well… not much, really. Not that he hoped for problems as a knight of this castle, but it felt sometimes that the days never changed. Buck was on an infinite loop of paramours that abandoned him; of grand disasters he had to help contain. And it wasn’t as if Buck hated his life here.
No.
He loved this castle.
He loved his life now.
Buck had never had much luck in life. Some might say he had been cursed to find trouble wherever he went. But when he stumbled upon this kingdom? When Bobby and Athena took him in? Let him stay in their domain?
Buck found it hard to complain about all the good that came from that. The family he made in this realm.
All the same, he found himself gazing up at the seashells carved into that dome and wondering what he was doing with his life; if he would always be stuck in this cycle. Because he felt it. He really did. That something was missing.
Something important.
Buck just wasn’t sure what it was.
He found his gaze drifting down; down to the intricately lobed lambrequin arch that he had walked through to get to his favorite chair; down to the mosaic tilework composed in an intricate geometric pattern on the ground.
And.
Maybe Buck would have understood what was happening if he wasn’t so lost in existential thought on where he was even going with his life.
Because.
There was a flash.
A spark that, for a moment, lit up into a giant flame; a fire that burned a bright green before disappearing in the blink of an eye.
And.
And Buck knew that meant something.
That it was.
It was a sign.
A signal.
“Maddie,” whispered Buck before he basically flung himself out of his favorite chair, “Maddie’s finally leaving him.”
They had figured out a way to speak to one another. Lands apart and with messenger not being an option due to the man Maddie found herself betrothed to, the only way that they could get a hold of one another was through these small secret signals; sparks of light.
Purple.
I’m okay.
Blue.
Are you okay?
Red.
Help.
Green.
It’s time to leave.
And sometimes, they might be able to pass a message, a real letter, to one another; through magics and liminal space. But those moments were few and far between and for the most part, it was the quiet relief of blue and purple fires that showed themselves only for a moment to Buck.
And.
Buck had been waiting for this day for years; since he had fled her husband’s kingdom when he was barely nine-and-ten; when they had set up this way to keep in contact; when he had left Maddie behind because she had asked him to and Buck didn’t know how to convince her not to stay.
But it was finally the moment.
To get her out of there.
To help her leave Doug.
Buck didn’t even know where he had been going before he bumped into –
“Shit. Sorry. Sorry, Eddie,” said Buck as he helped his best friend to his feet.
Eddie Diaz had started as a knight a year after Buck, but it felt as if he was always meant to be there. He and his son Christopher had become part of Buck’s life; part of his family. And Buck couldn’t imagine a life without either of them in it now.
“Where’s the fire?” asked Eddie curiously.
“Yeah, Buck. What’s so important that you’re running around off shift?” asked – Chimney as he turned the corner with Hen.
Apothecaries by trade, Hen and Chimney did rotations as knights as well. They had been there longer than Buck, but they had taken Buck in as easily as Bobby and Athena had. They were family too. Family Buck would always be grateful for.
“My sister,” explained Buck, a sense of anxiousness and excitement bubbling inside him, “She’s finally sent the message.”
Eddie’s eyes widened.
“That she’s going to leave?” asked Eddie, a little surprised.
“Yeah, I – I just – shit. I’m not even sure how I’m going to help her,” said Buck, allowing himself to stop for a moment and actually think about the situation both he and Maddie were in now; the race against time once Doug found out, “There are a few places over the years. Places I pointed to in case she needed to make the journey here. Good rest stops. But it can take weeks to get to her; weeks for her to get here. What if I can’t help her? What if I can’t get to her in time? What if Doug finds her first and – ?”
“Hey. No. We’ll figure something out. We’ll help you get to your sister before Doug,” said Hen as she glanced over to Chimney and… exchanged looks.
“What?” asked Eddie, looking between Chimney and Hen, “What are you two thinking?”
“We might know someone who could help us get there faster. It will just be a big ask,” said Chimney, smiling before he added, “I do like the excuse to visit him, though.”
“How long has it been? Seven years?” mused Hen.
“For you, maybe. I visit him every once and a while. He actually helped us with that fire a while back,” said Chimney.
And.
Buck couldn’t help but ask, “Who’s this guy you think can help us find her faster?”
Chimney clapped Buck’s shoulder.
“Get some hiking boots on. We’re going in search of a dragon,” said Chimney like that cleared anything up.
*****
Some say wild beasts roam the mountains that act as the soft border between the queendom Tommy had decided to protect and distant lands Tommy had sworn off long ago; that strange creatures roamed waiting for their dinner.
Tommy wasn’t sure if he was all that strange.
Or wild.
But he did roam.
He was fond of the mountains. He knew them like the back of his hand. He found himself coming back over and over again to the end of the range; where mountain met sea. Tommy saw that distant horizon and wondered how far he could go if he ever wanted to.
Not that he wanted to leave.
But it was always there.
The freedom of the wide expanse before him.
Tommy, like he found himself doing so many times, sat under his favorite pomegranate shrub, plucking one of the fruits as he sat down. He watched the ebb and flow of the ocean as he cracked his pomegranate open, revealing its vibrant seeds. He carefully picked the seeds, feeling them pop in his mouth with juicy sweetness.
Tommy wondered sometimes.
If this was it.
And most days, he told himself it was okay; that this was enough for him.
The ocean.
Pomegranates.
The sky.
Protecting a place he held dear.
Tommy could be okay with that. It would be selfish to ask for more. It had to be. That was what he told himself most days.
Though.
There were days.
Like today.
Where Tommy wondered if this really was all that he wanted. That Tommy’s world didn’t have to be just the mountains and the sea and a treat of pomegranates. That Tommy’s life didn’t have to be completely devoted to public service.
Though.
Was that selfish of Tommy to think?
Tommy.
Heard them before he saw them.
The sound of footsteps coming his way. There were…
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Four people were wandering the mountain; not quite near where Tommy was, but close enough for Tommy to know that they might be in search of Tommy.
Tommy closed his eyes, slowly taking a deep breath in; wondering if he might know the scents of any of these people.
Persimmons… with a touch of honey; a splash of thoughtfulness.
Howie.
Dates… and a hint of ginger; a dollop of good instincts.
Hen.
Tommy couldn’t place the other two scents. One smelt like guava and the love of a father for his child. The other smelt of honeysuckles and a wandering hart; a buck from a distant land.
Curious, Tommy let his deep breath out; exhaled his human form as he allowed himself to shift.
Felt the scales grow up his legs and torso; his entire body.
His wings stretched his arms; contorted them into another comfortable form.
His body expanded into a behemoth.
And Tommy was quiet; it was too easy for him to flap his wings and spring forth into the air high above the clouds. Tommy got lost for a moment in the feeling of that; the burst of adrenaline from the flight; the feeling of the wind on his face.
But then he reminded himself of the visitors.
And found himself gliding down to right behind his home.
It was a small home. A home made from stone with a little wooden balcony on the second floor. While mostly a modest home, Tommy was happy with his garden, if not a little proud of it. The garden was filled with greater butterfly orchids and tassel hyacinths and bird’s eye primroses; cowslips and common poppies and bastard balms; mountain arnicas and dragon’s mouths and sword-leaved helleborines. Flora Tommy had gathered over his years living on the edge of this realm and curated to look beautiful.
As Tommy touched the ground behind his home, he breathed back in his human form.
Felt his thumbs return to him.
His hair.
His clothes magically back on. His thigh-length undershirt, the camicia; linen with narrow sleeves and a t-shaped slit at the neck opening where a collar band could be set if Tommy really wanted one. The brache; a looser fitted boxer shorts. His calze; a vibrantly green linen hose stretched over his legs with the design of dragons snaking up. His farsetto; a rich green doublet with a standing collar, full upper sleeves with a fitted lower sleeve that buttoned under the elbow, and a skirt attached to the bottom of the jacket creating a distinctive waistline. His cioppa; a deep green pleated coat made from rich brocade silk and detailed with dragons; with hanging sleeves and a fur trim. A plain, thin leather belt over the cioppa. Slightly pointed, fitted low shoes. And a simple cap.
Tommy still had the pomegranate in his hands. He picked at it as he heard one of the visitors he didn’t know ask, “A dragon lives here?”
“He’s not a dragon all the time,” Tommy overheard Howie say, and Tommy smiled at that.
“What does that mean?” asked that same mysterious voice, and Tommy found himself happy to walk around his home to greet his impromptu visitors.
“He means I come in many shapes and sizes,” Tommy said, announcing himself to the group.
Chimney wore a white traveler’s cloak that he almost impossibly kept stain free; its hood hung over the clear topknot he still sported. It hid underneath a slick, monochromatic white outfit made from silk. A jeogori; a long jacket fastened together by coat strings with a white trim that had white embellishment of plumes of smoke. A baji; loosely fitted pants that were kept up by a long string tied at the waist and had a similar trim.
Chimney.
The smoke represented Howie’s other nickname.
He wore a sturdy boot with his outfit that didn’t quite match the outfit but rather felt rushed; as if this indeed wasn’t a planned trip.
Hen wore a similar traveling cloak, though hers was black which blended better with the shadows formed by the now setting sun. Under was a golden brocade silk kaftan that looked to be more for leisure than a journey up the mountains; a long, loosely fitted tunic-like robe with wide sleeves and a design of little fires embroidered on it. The kaftan was girded by a wide golden sash which wrapped around Hen several times and held a dagger and a small purse most likely filled with tinctures for any surprise medical emergency she might come across. She too wore boots that didn’t quite match her outfit.
Then, there was a man Tommy didn’t know; a man with thick brown hair, skin tan from the sun, and warm brown eyes that seemed curious about Tommy. He wore a traveling cloak similar to Hen’s; black as well. He wore a plain saya; a white tunic with straight sleeves that peeked through the Lombard sleeves on the deep crimson doublet he wore. Over the crimson doublet was a giornea; a scalloped and sleeveless red outer garment that fringed a bit at the hemline and was belted only seemingly at the front, allowing the back half of the giornea to sway with his cloak. He wore a crimson hose under it all and a similar sturdy boot.
And.
Then.
There was the last man.
Another Tommy didn’t know.
He was a paler man, with dirty blonde curls to his shoulders, dazzling blue eyes, and a birthmark that seemed to pepper his left eyebrow. His cloak was different; more of a deep navy wool brat with thick fringe that looked almost like fur. He wore a deep navy inar; a woolen jacket intricately decorated with golden dancing deer that had sleeves that opened around the elbow to allow for the voluminous sleeves of the léine under it to show. That léine was a vibrant saffron yellow; a long, narrow at the top, wide at the bottom linen tunic that was belted and gathered into pleats that fell to the man’s knees and had sleeves that narrowed at the top and widened at the bottom. Underneath the lèine was a deep navy plaid trius; tight fitting pants. On the inar, he wore a brooch; it was a golden ring with an intricate pattern of amber studs and weaving designs; a symbol of nobility in a distant land. He wore the same sturdy boots as the others.
The dirty blond man gazed at Tommy.
And Tommy gazed back.
“Pomegranate seeds?” asked Tommy simply as he offered the pomegranate to the dirty blond.
The dirty blond.
Looked.
From Tommy.
To the pomegranate.
As if on autopilot, the dirty blond took a few of the seeds and almost missed his mouth as he ate them.
“Hey. I want some too,” said Hen.
Tommy laughed as he turned the fruit to Hen.
“The offer wasn’t exclusive,” said Tommy as Hen took some seeds too.
“He can’t possibly be a dragon,” blurted the dirty blond man, pointing at Tommy.
Oh.
So, this man was the one who spoke before.
The dirty blond.
“I mean, his eyes are kind of reptilian. They do that slit thing,” said the other new guy, “Not that it looks bad or anything. It’s a good look for you.”
The brunette.
Gave Tommy.
A thumbs up.
Tommy.
Gave a thumbs up back?
“Thank you?” said Tommy, a little confused.
The dirty blond seemed to look between Tommy and the brunette, stepping slightly between the two so that he was a little closer to Tommy before saying, “You’re human-sized. Even if you’re a dragon, how would you carry us all?”
“You’d be surprised how big I can get,” Tommy said, doing his best not to laugh when the other new person let out a surprised chuckle.
The dirty blond.
Just.
Swallowed hard at that.
Was he looking Tommy up and down?
That couldn’t be it.
It was surprisingly hard to turn his focus away from the dirty blond, shifting it to Hen and Chimney.
“Need help with another fire?” asked Tommy, frowning at the thought.
Because.
He had made it a point to help stock the emergency water supplies across the realm. It would have to be a pretty intense fire if even the emergency supplies had run dry. Unless someone had sabotaged the reserves.
“Please tell me we’re not under attack,” added Tommy, because what else could cause the reserves to be sabotaged?
“What? No, uh. It’s nothing to do with the queendom,” assured Hen, which did make Tommy exhale some of the tension he had built at the thought of that.
Of a fight.
Though.
“Wait. What else would you be here for, then?” asked Tommy as he furrowed his brow.
“I visit sometimes. It’s not always some great emergency,” countered Chimney.
Tommy.
Took in everyone’s outfits and how none of them matched the boots; how none of the clothes besides the boots and the cloaks were really fit for hiking to Tommy’s place.
Tommy.
Raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, so this time isn’t a social call,” confessed Chimney, “But I do visit.”
“True,” said Tommy, a soft smile forming on his lips.
Because.
He liked when that happened. When he would get a letter to meet. When Chimney would make his way up to Tommy’s home for an afternoon of talking maybe twice a year.
Tommy liked the company.
“What do you desire of me?” asked Tommy curiously as he gazed from Chimney and Hen to the two new people before him; his heart stuttering at the dirty blond.
No.
This was a work call.
There was no room for thinking about handsome men.
“Hi, uh. I’m Eddie. Edmundo Diaz. But, uh. I go by Eddie,” the brunette announced as he extended a hand to Tommy.
Tommy shook it as he said, “It’s always a pleasure to meet a friend of Howie and Hen’s.”
The man.
Eddie.
Laughed a little.
And.
Maybe blushed a bit at the eye contact?
“Wow. Uh. Why – why did that sound so smooth?” asked Eddie, confused.
And it wasn’t like Tommy meant to say it all that smooth. He wasn’t sure if he did say anything smooth despite plenty folks telling him otherwise.
The other man, the dirty blond, seemed to almost shove Eddie out of the way as he blurted out, “Evan!”
“Evan?” echoed Eddie, amused.
“Evan,” Evan said, talking over his friend as he stepped a little closer to Tommy, “I’m – I’m Evan. Evan Buckley. But. Uh. I guess people call me Buck too.”
“Evan,” said Tommy, and he couldn’t help but let his smile widen just saying the name, “It’s a wonderful name.”
Evan seemed to stutter.
Full-on.
Just.
Stop in his tracks.
Staring at Tommy’s – no. He couldn’t be staring at Tommy’s lips.
“Would you rather Buck, though?” asked Tommy curiously.
“No!” Evan blurted before seemingly catching himself and clearing his throat, “Uh. Whatever you want. Evan’s good too.”
Huh.
“Are one of you the reason you came here without even a letter of warning?” asked Tommy, which seemed to jumpstart Evan again.
“Yes! Uh. That would – that would be me, actually,” explained Evan, “You see, my sister. She was betrothed to this baron. A vile, cruel, two-faced man who I lived under for part of my life and – and she’s finally decided to leave him. To escape. And I need to get to her. I need to help her. But the place she’s fleeing from – it’s weeks by horse. Chimney said you might be able to get us to her quicker.”
Evan took Tommy’s hands in his. Held Tommy’s hands so gently. But there was a desperation Tommy could feel; Evan’s hands were shaking.
“Please,” begged Evan, his voice cracking as he pleaded, “Help me help my sister. She’s the only blood family who ever been good to me.”
And.
It was an ask.
A big ask.
Because.
Tommy.
Had a contract. Something he had agreed to; something magic; something with consequences. And while this request was noble, Tommy knew there would be a punishment if he took it; if he left this realm.
But.
The way Evan’s hands were shaking.
The clear danger his sister must be in.
Tommy couldn’t allow a monster to hurt someone else if he could help it.
Not again.
“Show me the way and I’ll bring you to her,” said Tommy simply.
And.
He could tell.
From Hen and Chimney’s faces that they understood what Tommy had just agreed to. But Tommy couldn’t focus on that. Not when Evan Buckley practically tackled him with a hug; had tucked his head into Tommy’s shoulder as he seemed to be crying tears of relief, letting himself fall apart for a moment; as he seemed to whisper into Tommy’s shoulder, “Thank you.”