Chapter Text
“I think you need that more than I do right now, Inigo,” Peri said in a slightly somber tone. It was too different from her usual giddy, high pitched voice. The shift just made Inigo tear up a little bit more.
His open hand closed around the handkerchief and he shoved it back into his pocket, trying to sniffle away the beginnings of his emotions. “I just thought you might need some consoling after finding out I’m leaving so abruptly.”
Peri brightened and practically squealed, “Oh no, I’ll be totally fine!”
Inigo groaned. Peri was like a ball of cotton candy tangled up with nails. She seemed sweet and innocent until you got a real bite out of her. She was brutally honest and brutally… brutal. They had met in a painting class their freshman year. Inigo’s first impression of her was that she was bubbly and friendly and cute. His second impression, which he formed after seeing the horrifically bloody scene she had created, was much more accurate. Despite his fear, though, they ended up studying together and hanging out often after realizing they were neighbors in the dorms. She had been his anchor in his two and a half long years at Macarath University.
Inigo sighed at his friend’s complete dismissal of his departure. He was transferring to a different school on the other end of the country and she was acting like he was going to the cafeteria for a snack. “I just hope the other girls on campus aren’t too heartbroken.”
Peri giggled. “Of course they won’t be, they probably won’t even notice you left.” “Peri!” Inigo wailed, covering his face. “I thought you were my friend! And you betray me like this!”
“I am your friend, silly. And as your friend, I’m happy for you. I don’t know why you’re so worried about the girls here. Isn’t the whole point of you transferring to be closer to your boytoy?” The spell of sarcastic banter between good friends was broken by these words. They brought an air of slight earnest to the atmosphere. Inigo didn’t remove his hands from his face though, now afraid of the heat he could feel under his palms. “Don’t call him that…” he moaned, trying to act nonchalant even though his heart was beating a bit faster.
“Did you end up telling him you’re coming?” Peri asked innocently.
“I uh,” Inigo finally lowered his hands and he was grateful that Peri didn’t immediately point out his embarrassed reddened skin. “I thought it would be fun to keep it a surprise after all.”
Peri made an ‘o’ with her mouth and seemed thoughtful for a minute, then said, “But what if you walk in on him cheating on you?”
The list of reasons Inigo needed to transfer was fairly long. On that list somewhere was ‘long exposure to Peri is not good for the heart’. This was a prime example of that. He sputtered and tried to regain his composure by actually summoning a mental image of the Number One reason he needed to transfer.
Yellow hair that resembled a burst of light. A toothy, confident grin. A dorky, booming personality twinged with an infallible chivalry and loyalty. There were many words to describe his childhood best friend and boyfriend of almost three years, but if a gun was pointed to his head and he had to pick just one it would be ‘good’. He was a good soul, a good heart, and a good lover. So when Inigo’s heart stopped thumping against his chest so hard he thought it might escape, he breathed, “Owain would never… I don’t think he could even if he wanted to.” And Inigo knew he wasn't the type to want to.
Peri just shrugged again and said with a malicious grin, “Well if you’re wrong call me. I”ll ensure that his end is long and painful.” The mental image of one of Peri’s more recent and more gruesome paintings came to mind and Inigo thought that even distance would not help him to be less scared of her.
They shared a slightly (only slightly) more serious farewell, and then Inigo was off. He had a plane to catch and a surprise transfer to drop on his unsuspecting boyfriend.
---
Inigo and Owain finally started dating when high school was almost over. But years before the inevitable confession, they spent a lot of free time ‘facetiously’ planning their future together. They made a (‘joke’) pact that if they were both single when they were 30 they would get married. They talked about where they’d live, and what their house would look like, and what they’d name their hypothetical adopted children. All the while they were unnecessarily harboring secret mutual feelings for each other but, hey, that was part of being a teenager.
Unfortunately, because of their ridiculous trepidation to admit to these feelings (some nonsense like “What if he doesn't like me back?” or “What if it ruins our friendship?”) by the time they did start dating, college was upon them. They had established dreams and goals already, and were being tugged to different corners of the country to pursue them. Owain wanted to go to a prestigious liberal arts university in Windmire that many of his family members were alumna of and study literature. Inigo wanted to go to the performing arts school in Macarath to follow in the footsteps of his mother and become a dancer. They decided that the mature thing to do would be not to become one of those couples that sacrifice their dreams to attend the same college. Their new romance would have to be long distance for four years and it would suck, but it would probably be over before they knew it.
At least, that’s what they told themselves. Inigo realized, after two years, that they were wrong. College was dragging. He had seen his dream get chewed up and spit up by the high expectations he now faced. His drive faded. He lost confidence in himself and his ability to make a career out of dancing. Before leaving for summer break after his sophomore year, Inigo ambled to his adviser’s office with his tail between his legs and switched his major to communications, which he had already been studying as a minor.
Inigo was officially depressed. He was isolated far from his family and his friends. He wasn’t pursuing his dreams or having fun in class anymore. And to top it all off, he never got to see Owain except during summer and winter break. He was distant, and when they did get to see each other he could tell that their relationship was suffering. He hated it. He missed Owain so much.
At the beginning of his second semester Junior year, his advisor asked him a question that changed everything: “Why are you still here?”
“Huh?” Inigo asked, sad and confused.
“Why are you still attending a performing arts school? While we pass out the degree, our staff doesn’t specialize in the liberal arts. You could transfer to a new school, closer to home if you’re homesick.”
“I could… transfer?” Inigo felt a ray of hope form in the middle of all his darkness. Forget moving closer to home, he could transfer to Owain’s school! It was true what his adviser said. Why was he still at Macarath when he could continue studying communications, work toward getting a stable job, and be closer to the boy he was in love with all at once? They started working at once to transfer his credits and get him enrolled at classes at Krakenberg U in Windmire. He would officially transfer a few weeks into classes and have some catching up to do, but it was a small price to pay for Inigo to spend more time with Owain.
---
Krakenberg’s campus was a bit larger than Macarath. It was 9 am and the place was swarming with students. Inigo clumsily found his way to his dorm and located an RA to help him get set up. When he was done it was 10:30 and Owain was in class.
Owain still didn’t know Inigo was there, of course. But over text he had let slip the name of the building where most of his english classes were held, and with a map in hand Inigo was pretty confident he could find it to surprise Owain just as he was getting out.
He didn’t want to stand awkwardly in front of a random building for half an hour, however, so he headed over to the college store, which was nearby, to peruse for an hour while he waited.
Like most school gift shops, it had things like hoodies, office supplies, wall decorations, bumper stickers, and super fan paraphernalia. But it also had a case with different potted plants, ready to be cared for by students desperate for companionship in dorm rooms where they could not yet own a dog.
Inigo paused as he was walking by the case, lingering over one plant in particular. Most of them were green, though there was one plant that had small purple blooms scattered across the top of it. They looked healthy and fresh and Inigo’s eyes widened. If he had paused to really think about it, purple and black were the Krakenberg University school colors, so it made a little bit of contextual sense to sell an African Violet among their other potted plants, but he had already firmly decided in a matter of seconds that it was a sign. He scooped the plant in his hands and dashed to the counter.
The large round leaves bounced in Inigo’s hands as he pranced to the English building, arriving five minutes before class was dismissed. There were butterflies in his stomach and flowers in his hands and he couldn’t stop beaming. This was it. This was the beginning of the rest of his college career beside Owain.
A steady stream of students started to exit the four story old-fashioned building rather suddenly and without warning. They were all jabbering or listening to music to power walk to their next class, no one was paying attention to Inigo. He fidgeted with the base of the plant. He couldn’t really explain his nerves. He had just seen Owain a couple of weeks ago before they both left from winter break. Maybe it was because of the permanency, or the flowers… Or Peri’s cautions weighing in the back of his mind.
All of the conspiratorial worrying vanished when Owain finally stepped out the door. His default face was to smile, and he was, looking at a piece of paper absently, probably deeply in thought about a paper or assignment he had just been given. The sun struck his yellow hair and he lit up, almost radiated in Inigo’s perspective.
“Surprise!” Inigo shouted, completely at a lack for original words. Owain hadn’t even seen him yet, so he looked up with several other students who regarded Inigo quizzically, trying to decide who this was directed at while Owain processed the situation.
It dawned on him like a sunrise. Slow, but warm and bright. His confusion symptoms morphed into excited. The change was subtle, as the two emotions have a common ancestor, but noticeable. His eyes were wide, but crinkled at the edge and his slightly agape mouth stretched into an obtusely agape grin. His arms, held up in reflexive defense, stayed up but swung out as he started to run forward. All of Inigo’s former fears and doubts were dashed away when Owain’s body crashed into his own and they hugged. He barely managed to lift the plant up and out of the way in time.
They hugged tightly, as they so often did when they went long periods of time without seeing each other. Then Owain pulled back, cupped Inigo’s face in his palms (the paper he had been looking at early crinkled beyond help in between his fingers), and kissed him. Right in front of all his other classmates. Gentle, but passionate.
They relished in the feeling of each other for a moment before Owain pulled away, breathless and smiley, and finally asked, “What stars aligned in my favor that you are standing here right now? How did you get out of class and travel here and- Oh, wait, I have to text my friends and tell them I won’t be at lunch. We’re going to go get coffee right?”
He was rattling off short thoughts and Inigo noticed his hands were shaking a little and his breathing had not slowed down. The surprise had worked. And he was so overjoyed, he was literally vibrating with emotion. And Inigo, in turn, felt warm in places where he had been too icy lately, just at the mere act of standing within Owain’s orbital pull. His heart wasn’t just pounding, it was singing. He clutched the plant in the same way Owain clutched his phone as he texted, desperate for an anchor as he realized: this was his new life. He was going to get to feel this warmth every day for the rest of his college career.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice cracking where he didn’t expect it to. “Coffee sounds good. I need to tell you something.” He tacked on a smile so that Owain knew not to be afraid. And he must have read the message loud and clear, because he smiled back, took Inigo’s hand, and led him across campus to a little cafe.
The campus cafe was, naturally, crowded. Students who were lucky enough to just be starting their mornings were slugging through their hangovers and reluctance to go to class. Those who had been up since 8 were already picking up health conscious lunches. But the line moved surprisingly quickly, almost as if the baristas were college students serving other college students and knew they were grumpy and in a hurry. Inigo and Owain got their drinks and then ducked out of the building to a little picnic table outside where they could breathe. It was chilly, but the drink was warm in Inigo’s hand and the smell of espresso was filling him with the life he had lost from his early morning traveling. Across the table, Owain must have been suffering from a completely different side effect of caffeine because he was still vibrating. The purple flowered plant sat between them on the table, soaking up the rays of the sun and looking content as a plant could.
“Are you in town for the rest of the week? Or just today? Should I skip my classes?” He looked more than willing to.
“Owain, no,” Inigo chuckled. He couldn’t stop smiling. Neither of them could. “Don’t skip your classes. We’re going to have plenty of time to hang out. Actually, we’ll have the rest of the semester.” Inigo sat up, proud of his second surprise even more than his first, and confident Owain could handle it. “I transferred schools. I’m a student of Krakenberg University starting tomorrow.”
Owain’s jaw closed a half an inch, his head cocked slightly to the side and his eyes narrowed. “Transferred? Here? You don’t go to Macarath anymore?”
Inigo shook his head, trying to ignore the pool of dread that was swarming within him at this reaction and keep the smile plastered firmly on his own expression. “My adviser pointed out that I could get a communications degree pretty much anywhere. So I transferred. I wanted to be closer to you.”
Owain smiled. Though it was softer than his previous ones, it was still genuine. He was the most genuine person Inigo knew. “This is… Wondrous news! I can’t believe I am about to admit this but… I don’t know what to say.”
Inigo chuckled. “Sorry I didn’t warn you ahead of time. I’m sure you already have a study group or something this week. You have a life here and I’m new and we’ll have to set out boundaries. But I’m just excited at the idea of getting to see you more often.”
Then Inigo watched as Owain’s expression did something strange. It phased through several different emotions, from realization, to horror, to anxiety. For Inigo, reading Owain was like reading a book assigned to second graders. Way too easy. And his emotions mirrored Owain’s beat for beat. His leg started to bounce. Why was Owain suddenly so nervous? Did he just remember something?
“Of course. This is amazing! I’ll be able to find the time…”
“You’re busy tonight, right?” Inigo asked, eager to find out which route Owain’s train of thought had taken. “It’s fine if you are, you weren’t expecting me.”
“Yes, well, I can cancel it if-”
“No, don’t, really. What about tomorrow?”
“Uh, yes. Then too.”
“And Wednesday?”
“Study group. And I have plans friday too. I am truly sorry Inigo, I didn’t realize… I made a lot of commitments at the beginning of the year. I’ve just been very busy lately.”
Inigo was beginning to shake a little more. Owain had specified study hall, but not what his other appointments were. And he didn’t typically see himself as the jealous type but… What could he possibly be doing? It wasn't as if Owain had a ton of friends. And Inigo meant that with love, but it was true. He was the first to admit that his boyfriend was a weirdo (because Owain would never admit he, himself, was less than awesome). Owain wasn't exactly popular. He only had two friends that he ever spoke about. And at least one of them was a huge bookish nerd. They couldn’t possibly be going out partying every night. So what on earth could be eating up all his time?
“What if you walk in on him cheating on you? I’ll ensure that his end is long and painful.” Inigo lifted his phone out of his pocket and fiddled with it on the table as Peri’s words rang loud and clear in his head. It just couldn’t be true. Not Owain.
All at once, Owain lit up and started smacking the table in jubilation. He was an awful lot like a human firecracker sometimes and Inigo felt his spine partially leap out of his body. “Oh! How foolish of me! You should come along tonight! You’ll have fun! I’ll text Leo, I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Inigo perked up and stopped fiddling with the phone. He knew of Leo. Leo was the harmless bookish nerd. “I don’t want to impose,” he lied weakly. He did very much want to impose. A mixture of curiosity, mild anxiety and desire to not let Owain out of his sight now that he had him boiled together in his gut.
There was a ding from Owain’s phone. He read it very quickly and then grinned. “You won’t be imposing. In fact…” Owain clutched a fist right in front of his face, closed his eyes and sat up a little straighter. “Our group of brave adventurers would be humbled if you joined us on our noble quest to rid the land of evil once and for all. You should play with us.”
Inigo blinked, mostly impervious to Owain’s bouts of dramatics at this point, but still a little lost without context. “Play what?”
His eyes opened and he smiled and for a moment, it was so pure. So innocent. So excited. Inigo’s heart melted until Owain opened his mouth and said, “Dungeons and Dragons!”
Wait…
“My group meets usually two or three times a week.” Oh no… “I can help you make a character, don’t fret. But if you play with us, we’ll get to spend a ton of time together!” Oh my god this is really happening… “Plus, it’s really fun! You might like it. A lot like the epic, magical games we used to play when we were little.”
Now, Inigo knew that his boyfriend was a nerd. He’d grown up with Owain after all. But this was… A whole new level of nerdom that he was not ready for. And as Owain carried on explaining the game and his current quest, it sounded like something he had been involved with for a while. How it never came up when they talked on the phone was a mystery to Inigo. And now, all of a sudden, he was being dragged in? On the list of hobbies Inigo could see himself taking up, Dungeons and Dragons was very close to the bottom.
At the same time, a little voice in the back of his mind reminded him, you transferred to this school to spend more time with Owain. And this would be a really easy way to do so. How hard can a little board game be?... That’s what Dungeons and Dragons was, right? Just a super nerdy board game? He used to be a pro at Monopoly when he was a teenager, this shouldn’t be too hard.
---
Owain skipped his classes for the rest of the day after all. But not because his time with Inigo was short. They would, in fact, be spending a lot of time together in the upcoming months, it seemed. No, Owain skipped classes because, apparently, building a character for a DnD (that was shorthand for Dungeons and Dragons, Inigo learned) was a big fucking ordeal. And as a complete newbie, he couldn’t be trusted to do it on his own. Clearly this wasn’t a “I call being the scotty dog!” situation.
“Before we get into the numbers and stats,” Owain began in an authoritative tone that told Inigo he was going to be taking this way too seriously. “We’ll just figure out what kind of character you want to play. We’ll start with race.”
Inigo was sitting at the desk in Owain’s room with a pencil and a piece of paper like he was about to take notes for a class. The potted plant sat next to him, supporting him emotionally through this. He hadn’t officially ‘given’ it to Owain yet. Honestly he wasn’t sure how to go about fitting in “Hey, I bought you these flowers!” with all this game talk.
Owain leaned right over the plant to reach for a little shelf over the desk and slammed a heavy book on the table dramatically right in front of Inigo. It made him jump and he subtly checked that the plant hadn’t been hurt. Owain hadn’t even taken notice of it. He was more focused on the book, gazing at it like it was his child.
It was a huge glossy hardback. There was a dramatic illustration of a battle on the cover. A large, bearded, red-eyed humanoid with a skull helmet was reaching for a person the size of its hand. A woman holding a spear in one hand while a blue light emanated from her other. Inigo felt embarrassment just looking at it. Then he felt intimidation as Owain flipped it open and started shuffling through the very many, very text heavy pages it contained.
“There are nine races in the main DnD rules for you to chose from. You can be pretty much whoever you want to be. Search your soul and find the race that best suits who you are and delve into their innate and unique abilities!”
Inigo flipped through the pages with Owain and scoffed more than once. (“Why is lawn gnome and option?” “So is this thing supposed to be like a female Hellboy? Hellgirl?” “Why is it called a halfling when the premise of this whole thing is obviously just a Lord of the Ring rip off? They’re lying to themselves.”) But it was one heckle in particular that made Owain kind of sag and, as a result, made Inigo start to feel bad for his attitude.
“This is like a magic fantasy game right? Why would they even make human an option? Does anyone even pick human when you have all these other options?”
“My character is a human…” Owain said in a voice that was just a register below his normal boom.
Inigo wiped the stupid smirk he wore off of his face and glanced up at Owain. Was he genuinely hurt? “Oh. Sorry. I’m sure he’s cool.”
“Of course he is,” Owain said, then he stood up straight and struck one of his dramatic poses, reaching out an open palm and flexing his fingers as if a burst of flame would appear between them. Inigo immediately felt foolish for taking pity on his pride. “He is a powerful sorcerer, feared and admired throughout the land. Odin Dark! And though he is but a human, he was born with an ache in his veins and power far above that of other mortals.” After the display, which Inigo sat through patiently as he had learned to do over the years, Owain lowered his hand slightly and said, a little more modestly. “He’s very strong, I worked hard on him and I’m very proud.”
“I can tell,” Inigo said, trying not to let his trepidation sneak into his tone. “Though for you, maybe playing a human is a stretch of the imagination. In my case I’ll just be a… hmm… an elf? That’s like the Orlando Bloom kind, right? Not the Santa's helpers kind?”
Owain chuckled and flipped to the elf page. “It’s the Orlando Bloom kind.”
“Okay. Good. Then that one.”
If Inigo thought his list of races to choose from was unnecessarily long, he was ill-prepared for the class list. There were twelve classes, and so many of them were exactly alike. And every single one was so complicated. Inigo stared at the lists of weapons, stats, attributes, and spells until his eyes were crossing. Thankfully Owain took pity on him. “Inigo, can I make a suggestion?”
“Please,” Inigo sighed, his headache mounting as he re-read the word ‘spell-slot’ for the 10th time, still not understanding what meaning it was trying to convey.
“We have a magic user, a long ranged fighter and a healer in our party. We don’t really have someone that specializes in close combat. How do you feel about being the sword and shield?
“Is it… complicated?”
“Not as complicated as spells,” Owain said.
“Sounds fantastic.”
“Okay, fantastic, you're a fighter. An elf fighter.” And then Owain smiled and Inigo’s headache subsided a little.
That could have been the end of it and Inigo would have been none the wiser. But choosing a race and class were only the tip of the iceberg. As promised there were numbers and stats that had to be calculated. And as if none of this was already WAY more complicated than it needed to be, he had to come up with a backstory for this imaginary person.
“I can write it for you if you want,” Owain said, a little too eagerly. Inigo wasn’t going to say no, of course. Not only was Owain the english guy with an actual history in writing in the fantasy genre, but Inigo didn’t want to do it at all in the first place. “You just have to pick out a background really quick so I have something to go off of.”
“A background?” Inigo mumbled (he was mostly mumbling at this point), as Owain flipped to the appropriate page.
“I swear on my noble bloodline, it is not as complicated as race and class. You’ll just get some small benefits to your stats that I will worry about. Now, you’re a fighter, so might I suggest the soldier background? Or maybe even the sailor! Swashbuckling adventures on the high seas!”
Owain went on in this manner for a handful of the background choices that he highlighted, but Inigo tuned him out partially. Something caught his eye and he gripped the page slightly.
“Entertainer,” he murmured in the middle of one of Owain’s dramatics, and his low tone sucked the air and other noise out of the room. He skimmed the description and then looked up at Owain with the most decisive expression he had worn since this whole ordeal began. “Can I be this one?”
Owain blinked and looked at the page. He took a second to process it, then smiled softly at Inigo and simply said, “Of course.” And that was the end of that.
At this point, all that was left was for Owain to write him a backstory. Inigo’s headache had persisted though, and he was feeling overwhelmed and tired. He stood up wearily.
“What time is this game tonight?” he asked weakly, trying his best to mask his discomfort and surely failing.
Owain looked at the clock on the wall. “Not until 7. We have a few hours.”
“Thank god,” Inigo murmured and he stood up. “I think I need a nap. I’m still exhausted from traveling.”
Owain looked a little guilty at this suggestion, but he grabbed one of Inigo’s wrists just as he was about to pull away, gestured to the lofted bed above his desk and said, “You can sleep here if you want. I’ll turn the lights of and be quiet. Promise.”
Inigo broke out of his sleepy spell for a moment to observe Owain’s body language. He was anxious about something. And Inigo grinned, eager to seize this opportunity to tease him. “Worried that if I leave you’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream?”
Owain blushed. But he didn’t deny it. “I… Just can’t believe that you’re here. I’m so excited to share my world with you.”
Inigo hoped that Owain was talking about college at large and not just this game. But he was too tired to angst over anything any longer. He sort of crumbled into Owain’s arms, taking advantage of the situation. The hours (oh god it had been multiple hadn’t it) they had spent talking about a complicated fantasy rpg melted into the back of his memories. Once again, he was just here in his boyfriend’s warmth. He pulled out of the hug only slightly so that they could kiss, deeper and slower than they had outside the english building. Their bodies started to rock together with the rhythm of their lips and tongues.
Inigo pulled away after a moment to yawn and Owain chuckled. He kissed the tip of Inigo’s nose and said, “Come on.”
He was led to a ladder and a moment later his face hit a pillow that smelled like Owain. If Owain stayed up writing, he didn’t make a noise, and Inigo slipped into a much-needed deep sleep.
---
Inigo had gone to bed concerned, but woken up grumpy and frustrated. He nursed a large cup of coffee as Owain dragged him across town to where they’d be paying this dumb game. Coffee had gotten him through mild depression, surely it could step up and get him through whatever brand of embarrassment he was about to experience with this.
Maybe if circumstances were different, he wouldn’t be so bitter about this situation. Maybe if he had always gone to Krakenberg University with Owain and they had formed a college routine together from the beginning, he would be okay to send his boyfriend off into absolute nerdom. But that wasn’t the case. They had been separated for so long and Inigo was aching and their sudden proximity was a big deal to him. He didn’t want to intrude on Owain’s life, but at the same time, the guy could act a little more excited. But no, instead, ever since he heard the good news he hadn’t shut up about this game. He hadn’t even paused to ask Inigo, “Hey, is there a reason you’re carrying around potted flowers?”
Leo’s apartment was bigger than any of the dorm rooms on campus. Inigo had never met Leo, just heard Owain talk about him. He knew he read a lot of books and always did his homework on time, but that was about all Owain had told him. Clearly, he’d forgotten to mention that Leo was rich. It was more like a high end condo than it was an apartment. Completely furnished and impeccably clean and fancy. Inigo walked into the empty sitting room and was afraid to touch anything.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Leo asked as they passed by a pretty large open kitchen.
Inigo held up his coffee briefly then quickly brought it to his chest again. “I’m fine,” he croaked, hoping it didn’t sound as miserable as he felt.
Leo still went into the kitchen and Owain paused to wait for him to get some water from his purifier on the tap, so Inigo waited too. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Inigo,” Leo said as he was turning around, glass in hand, to lean on the counter. His voice was smooth and calm. He seemed way too cool to be Owain’s friend. “Niles and I actually had a bet going on whether you were real or not. Now I owe him, which is never a good thing.”
A booming laughter filled the space and if Inigo were a stranger to Owain, he would have flinched. As it stood, he was too accustomed (and tired). “He pulled one over on you, friend! He has met Inigo over Skype.”
Niles was Owain’s roommate. ‘Met’ was a strong word, but Inigo had indeed seen him piddling around in the background while he talked to Owain over video and he knew that Niles had seen him. Inigo watched as the mild amusement slipped right off Leo’s face into disdain.
A very feminine, loud giggle echoed their way from down the hall. Inigo thought Leo couldn’t look anymore sour in that moment and was proven wrong when his brows knotted together just a little tighter.
“If he’s teaching my sister inappropriate things on top of this, I’ll make him sorry he ever set foot into my home.” He stomped away in the direction of the giggle and Owain followed after him, looking completely undisturbed, so Inigo followed too.
There was no bed in the extra bedroom they entered. It was small and there was just one closet and door out. Shelves lined the walls, floor to ceiling, filled with books and board games. There was a desk at one of the room, facing away from the wall with open books and papers scattered across it. In the middle of the room, right in front of this desk, was a long table. The set up would have resembled a professional conference room if it wasn’t for all of the geeky paraphernalia along the walls.
There were two people already sitting down next to each other at one end of the table. Niles, dark skin and white hair and large biceps, turned his sly grin on Inigo immediately like he had been waiting for this moment for hours. The girl was young. She looked too young, in fact, to be hanging out with a bunch of college boys. She had huge blonde pigtails with purple highlights, wide eyes, and wore a floral printed dress. Despite the fact that there were some elements of Leo in her features (they had the same nose and round face) she looked completely out of her element here, like the boys had ripped from the pages of a story book and were holding her hostage.
When they entered the room, she was laughing in Niles’ general direction. Her smile carried with her as she turned to look at them and she filled in the space left behind by her giggle with a little gasp. “A new friend!” she squealed, bouncing out of her chair and across the room.
“Elise, this is my dear companion who just transferred to Krakenberg, Inigo,” Owain introduced with a little flair in his wrist as he gestured toward Inigo.
Elise grabbed one of Inigo’s hands and shook it eagerly, bouncing him a little in his place. She was cute, not really his type (or the type he usually gave attention to), but just having a friendly female around poured a little bit of life into him. “Are you gonna play with us?”
“I think so?” Inigo murmured. “We made a character. I’ve never played before, though.”
She giggled. “That’s okay, I’m kinda new too. I’m a freshman and really just joined this because I wanted to spend more time with my brother. Outside of class and DnD, he literally never leaves his room. And even this is just down the hall!” Elise took a brief moment to pointedly look at Leo over her shoulder as he pulled out some books and journals at the desk facing them. Inigo felt a pull of sympathy in that moment and a rush of relief. He had a comrade, someone in the same circumstance as him. When she turned back and smiled at him, Inigo finally pulled out a smile to give her in return. “I’ve only been playing for a few months. It’s pretty hard to understand at first, but you’ll do okay. And at the very least, I’m a healer so I won’t let you die!”
“Elise plays a noble halfling cleric,” Owain announced with a little too much excitement. “She keeps us in top fighting condition through all of our battles. Surely the team would have perished by now if not for her reliable magic!”
Elise blushed. “I just try to do my best for the team. You guys are a little reckless, though, I don’t know how you managed before me.”
“We didn’t really,” interrupted Niles’ smooth voice from where he still sat at the table. “I think I sacrificed like three characters trying to keep Owain’s precious sorcerer alive before you came along. The ranger I have right now has been alive so long, he probably doesn’t even know what to do with himself.”
“The lesson I’ve been trying to teach is that not every situation is a ‘rush-in’ situation,” Leo said as he unfolded a ten inch tall screen that wrapped around the edge of the desk and had a cool illustrated mural of a dragon battle on the outward facing side. “It never really stuck.”
“Odin Dark is a hero and hero's never shy away from challenges!” Owain said as he and Elise moved to the table. Inigo felt compelled to follow and took an empty seat next to Owain as he started to unload a laptop, some pieces of paper, a couple of sets of dice, and the handbook from his bag. “I am always merely trying to stay in character.”
“And no one does it better than you,” Leo grumbled. “Now can we get started? I have an essay to write tonight so I’d like to get through this as fast as possible. Inigo, we’re all pleased to finally meet you. I’m sorry the pleasantries have been a little rushed. Do you know how to play the game?”
“Well, I got a quick crash course today. How hard can it be?”
Leo’s arched eyebrow indicated that it might be a little harder than it sounds. As far as Inigo understood it, Dungeons and Dragons was low maintenance game. There wasn’t a board, there weren’t any pieces. Just some (weird) dice and imagination. And this character sheet with a lot of numbers that Inigo didn’t understand, but Owain had promised to help him with if he had any questions. He wasn’t confident by any means that this would go well, but it was also just a game. So he tried not to let Leo’s visible skepticism get to him. He had enough on his emotional plate as it was.
“Why don’t you tell us a little bit about your character?” Leo asked.
“Uh, well, he’s a… an elf? Yeah. And he has a sword and a shield, which I guess means he’s strong. Uh I think the class was called a fighter? He’s probably super buff and handsome and gets the attention of all ladies with his award winning smile.”
Leo was writing something down behind his screen. He hardly looked like he was paying attention, which was a little embarrassing. Though Inigo couldn’t decide if it was more or less embarrassing than Elise and Niles who, he could see out of his peripheral vision, were both raptly listening to him and grinning slightly.
“Mhm, and what’s his name?”
“Hm? Name?”
“Yes.”
Inigo looked down at the sheet Owain had given him. He had forgotten a name. Was he supposed to come with one? Did he have to come up with one right now on the fly? Was ‘Inigo’ okay, or could he just name the guy something like ‘Bob’ or ‘Jerry’, or was that weird for an elf?
In the middle of his turmoil, he heard a small cough and looked up at Owain who was grinning slightly. Of course, he’d already come with a name. He had written the whole backstory and names were kind of Owain’s thing. He pointed to the top of Inigo’s sheet proudly.
“Laslow of the-” Inigo cleared his throat. “Laslow.” He looked up at Leo and could practically smell Owain pouting next to him.
“Good. Let’s begin. When we left off, our party was in the middle of a chase.”
»»-------------¤-------------««
Laslow was tending to a patch of flowers. He didn’t know what the flowers were called, but they were beautiful. The stems grew up and the bulbs dipped down, but bloomed full and bright. They had white petals with one or two thin, deep purple lines and yellow spots toward the middle. The bottom three petals fanned outwards, but the top ones were short and curled, similar to a snapdragon. Laslow poured a large watering can over the small patch and admired how the residual droplets caught the bright sun and made them glow.
These weren’t Laslow’s personal flowers. He had been hired to watch over the cabin of a wizard who was out traveling for a little while. He’d been here about a week so far. There were some valuable potions and magicks inside. And this little garden. He had never considered himself a gardener, but he found it therapeutic.
It was another peaceful day at this forest-bordering cabin. Laslow fed the plants and thought about his plans for the day. This was by far the most relaxing job he had ever been hired to do. Perhaps today he would take just a couple of flowers, not enough to be missed, and go into town to socialize. He started to hum with pleasure at the thought of these delicate white petals nestled behind a fair maiden’s ear.
His pleasant daydreams were interrupted by a loud roar and an unnatural gust of wind. He tilted his chin up just in time to watch the sun get blocked by a large, red, leathery wing. Laslow’s jaw fell open and the world slowed down as his eyes followed the wing up to the rest of the beast. Plump, red scaled body, long neck and tail, large claws, thick twisted horns, a snout that leaked smoke from its nostrils. A dragon.
There was a distant shout from the direction the dragon had flown, though Laslow couldn’t discern exactly what was being said. The dragon landed next to his garden and let out a thunderous roar. Laslow dropped the watering can before it was finished and ran to the door of his cabin, where his sword and shield were resting.
There was another indistinguishable yell from somewhere else in the near distance and then a ferocious blast of lightning mowed right through the dragon. It howled in pain and reeled backwards. When it came back down, one hooked claw took out a flower and curled into the soil beneath it. Laslow sneered.
A group of three people appeared at the gate of the cabin’s lawn. They were all mildly out of breath, but stood strong and brandished their weapons to show their readiness for battle. A horned tiefling, with dark brown skin, white hair and an eyepatch, loaded a bolt into a crossbow and launched it at the dragon. It whizzed right past the creature’s head. A dense cloud of smoke plumed out the dragon’s nose.
A second person in the group, a tiny girl with long blonde pigtails and a short, poofy black and pink dress under a silver breastplate, moved her hand axe to the right hand and laid her left on the hip of the third member of their party. Her hand glowed and she muttered a word that Laslow couldn’t hear, but looked on her lips similar to ‘fire’.
The third member of the party glowed red, and a smirk stretched across his face. He was a human, blonde, dressed in a cape and nice black and gilded robes. There were some bronze scales on his face, around his eyes and across his forehead. He glowed a faint red for a moment as the halfling's spell took effect. Then he pointed one steady finger at the dragon and said, no, shouted, “YOUR FLAME CANNOT PIERCE THIS RADIANT GIFT, BUT TRY AS YOU MIGHT YOU MISERABLE LIZARD!”
The dragon coiled its long neck and unhinged its jaw. Laslow barely got his shield up to crouch behind it before the whole area was bathed in fire.
The flames licked Laslow’s shield and he could feel the heat on his hands. One boot that didn’t quite get covered caught fire when the whole ordeal was done. He stomped it out and then stood up. When he looked out beyond his shield, horror fell into the pit of his stomach. The flowers. They were all gone, as if they had never been there, replaced by a flat lump of blackened earth.
The adventurers still looked mostly hearty. The infernal tiefling was fire resistant by nature and the human had been imbued with some sort of spell that protected him. Though their little halfling friend was charred and weak on her feet. Flowers and a girl hurt before his eyes in a battle he did not ask to be brought to his front door? Oh hell no.
Laslow dropped his shield at his feet and grabbed his longsword with two hands. He let out a fierce cry and charged the dragon, which was only a few feet away, plunging the blade into its soft chest. If the beast or the other adventurers hadn’t noticed him yet, they certainly did now. He ripped his sword up the length of the dragon’s neck above him and then spun around and hacked downwards just as it was starting to tumble, taking off its head in one clean swoop. Both head and body fell to the earth with wet thumps, dead.
It must have been weakened to the point of breaking already, Laslow thought absently as he panted and tried to clear his mind. He wiped sweat from his brow and looked up when the sound of approaching footsteps entered his space. The human and halfling were looking at him with different shades of wonder. The tiefling had held back and was scrutinizing him with one good eye as he put up his crossbow.
“Salutations, great warrior,” the human said with a booming flair. “That was some admirable swordsmanship you just displayed!”
“Sorry about the trouble,” the halfling said in a squeaky voice. Laslow glanced forlornly at the burnt patch of earth where the flowers had been. “I hope you didn’t lose anything valuable in that house.”
“The house?” he repeated, then the sense of dread came back in full force. He whirled around and, sure enough, the whole house was gone. The tip of Laslow’s sword dipped toward the earth as one hand released it to cover his face. “Oh gods,” he murmured. “The wizard is gonna kill me.”
“Wizard?” the halfling parroted.
“This old guy, he hired me to house sit,” Laslow murmured. “I think there was a lot of powerful stuff he owned in there. And the flowers,” he looked again at the ground. “He was very particular about keeping the flowers alive.”
The halfling, at least, seemed bothered by this news. But the human didn’t. He maintained a concrete grin and pounded one sturdy hand on Laslow’s shoulder in encouragement. “Cheer up, friend. By the time your benefactor returns we will be long gone. What do you say to joining our party?”
Laslow looked at this human. He looked into his gemstone-like green eyes, drank in his bright expression, sunshine colored hair and bronze scales. And thought about the flowers that had been so white and plump with life yet delicate and defenseless. His blood boiled.
Laslow knocked the hand away and said, “No thank you, I don’t associate with people who have no regard to life.” He marched over to his shield and collected what belongings still remained outside.
(“Inigo, Laslow has to join our party, that’s the whole point of this encounter,” Owain said in a suspiciously gentle voice from beside Inigo at the game table.
Inigo was mad. He couldn’t describe it. The game was fake. But he was still mad on behalf of Laslow and the lost flowers. In some weird, childish way, he sympathized. “I just don’t think he would right now? He’s pretty upset.”
“That’s a completely valid character choice, very good. I admire that,” Leo agreed. He looked at Owain, “He can play his character however he wants. Now let’s keep going.”)
Laslow marched over to the fence that still stood around the perimeter of the burnt property. It was made of metal and hadn’t caught fire like the log cabin or many of the other lawn features. He sat down and leaned against it, ignoring the heat on his back from the fresh fire attack.
The human seemed at a loss of words for a second and fidgeted in one place before rushing over to Laslow while he got comfortable. “I am Odin Dark, a powerful dragon-descended sorcerer traveling the world to help the helpless and liberate the world from evil!” He struck a dramatic pose. Laslow ignored him as he went on. “The noble halfling is Princess Elise, our steadfast cleric! All in our party are safer and stronger with her nearby. And the fiendish tiefling is Niles the Stargazer, a ranger with-”
“Niles, is fine,” the tiefling said, picking his nails in boredom. “Just Niles.”
“-with sharp shooter precision. He never misses a foe with his agile arrows!”
“Oh really?” Laslow asked, glancing up the human, Odin, finally. “Because I’m pretty sure I watched an arrow whiz off into the horizon right past the dragon’s head.”
“Hey, we all have rough days,” Niles said, shrugging. “Sometimes people get a shit night sleep because the sorcerer who is supposed to be on watch stays up with a light that’s a hint too bright to accommodate his weak human eyes, and mumbles made up names of spells outloud to himself as he writes them down in a notebook.”
Laslow glared up at Odin. “Yeah, I think I’ll maintain my pass on the offer to join your group. Thanks though. I’m just going to sit here and wait for the wizard to return and smite me.”
“What about the regard to life?” Elise, the halfling, interjected. She was soft. Laslow de-bristled a little at the sounds of her voice. Then bristled again a second later when Odin spoke.
“Excellent point! You held it against us as if it was something that you valued, yet do you have no regard for your own life?”
Laslow didn’t know how to answer that at first. Of course he had a regard for his own life. But he was also a lawful man, and leaving his post seemed… wrong. Besides it wasn’t his own life he was referring to, but that of others. He glanced at the burnt flower patch. It was just a flower patch but… He felt heartbroken about it. “I was talking about the flowers,” he admitted out loud, despite himself.
Odin looked at the barren land, processed what was being said, and then returned a raised eyebrow to Laslow. “You’re upset about some burnt flowers? We slayed a dangerous, evil dragon. If all we lost were some measly flowers, we should be celebrating.”
(Of course he would say that.)
“Of course you would say that,” Laslow grumbled. He stood up from his seat at the post, deciding that he wasn’t going to stick around here any longer if this guy was, and walked into the nearby forest.
He didn’t go very far, but he wasn’t followed which was a relief. There was a pond just a few feet from the cabin and Laslow settled against a tree near it. After a few hours of no disturbance, he let the exhaustion from his anger take over and dozed off.
---
It was barely dusk when Laslow woke up. His shoulders and hips were cramping from the uncomfortable position he’d slept in. He hadn’t meant to actually rest all night, but apparently the stress from the last few hours of his previous day was too much for his body to wake up from.
He sat up from the slumped over pile he had fall into and rubbed his eyes. The sun was just starting to rise, filtering through the trees in a soft golden light. The grass around him was damp with dew. And there was a figure at the pond just a few feet from him.
Odin Dark was washing something in the shallow bank. He had his back turned on Laslow, but his shock of blonde hair was unmistakable. His body twitched slightly every so often with movement. Whatever he was doing, he was very focused on it, and he didn’t turn around when Laslow stood and approached.
“I know that this won’t make up for the loss,” his started to speak as Laslow got closer, as if he was expecting this. “I asked Princess Elise for magical assistance to reverse some of the damage. But there will be no bringing them back to life.”
Laslow’s curiosity was brimming, about to overflow. He peeked over Odin’s shoulder and felt his heart leap a little with surprise. A little flower. White petals with purple and yellow markings. Small, delicate, but alive.
“I found them behind a post in the fence,” Odin said softly, and Laslow noticed the two others in his lap. “They survived the fire, but were still severed from their roots. I am truly sorry. They must have made a lovely patch.”
Laslow sat next to the water and looked at the flower in Odin’s hands. He smiled softly. “They were. You know, flowers have their own language. They help us communicate with each other.”
“Their own language?” Odin repeated. He looked down at the flower, then back up at Laslow. He reached over in a quick motion that Laslow was too slow to dodge or deflect, and tucked what was left of the flower’s stalk behind his ear. Then he sat back and smiled. “You must keep it close to your ear then, so you can hear when it whispers.”
Laslow felt his face heat up. He gently felt the flower by his ear and then leaned over the edge of the pond to see his reflection. Not as pretty as it would be on a maiden, certainly. But he felt better with its white petals close to him. At least for now. He cleared his throat and turned back to Odin. “Thank you,” he said. “This does… Mean something.”
There was a beat of silence and then Odin said, “Please reconsider waiting here for your demise. We could really use someone with your… heart. On our team. We are perhaps a little too chaotic sometimes. It would be nice to have someone around to tell us when we’ve gone too far.”
Laslow sighed. “Okay, I’ll join your party,” he said and then through Odin’s rising excitement asked, “Where are we going?”
»»-------------¤-------------««
Inigo looked up from his character sheet a caught Owain looking at him. Elise and Niles had stolen Leo’s attention as they squabbled over the ethics of looted goods. (Something about Niles finding a trap door under all of the charred debris of the wizard’s cabin with a really good perception check.) They were able to share a moment. Not a long one, but a slightly private one.
Owain grabbed Inigo’s hand under the desk and leaned in to whisper, “I forgot to thank you for the flowers earlier. You caught me by surprise today. This was the only thing I could think of to pay you back. I missed you.”
Inigo smiled, despite himself. He was still a little irritated, still a lot confused, but Owain’s words melted the ice in his chest a little more. “You’re so cheesy,” he said before pecking Owain on his temple, hopefully under the radar of the others in the room. No one made a move to indicate they had seen it.
Inigo still wasn’t sure what to make of this dungeons and dragons business. He didn’t know how he was going to fit himself into Owain’s routine or if he would end up making a fool of himself soon enough. What he did know, and what he chose to focus on, was that he was happy to be sitting in that chair in that moment with dice in front of him and his boyfriend’s hand in his.