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Frey walked through Avoalet, admiring the beauty of it. Now that she had healed from her injuries from the fight with Susurrus, she was able to explore Athia. Speaking of Susurrus, the demon was still quiet. Frey sighed and looked down at her arm.
"You're rather quiet." She said.
Cuff shifted around on her arm. Frey smirked.
"Still sulking?" She asked.
"Sulking." Cuff scoffed.
Frey sighed and stopped. She leaned against a tree and crossed her arms.
"We don't have to constantly be fighting." She said. "Can't we just... call a truce?"
Cuff went back to being quiet. Frey sighed. She looked around. It was... peaceful here. In Avoalet. No Breakbeast nor any Breakborn were around. Just the gentle whisper of the wind and a large building in the distance. Frey frowned at the building and pushed herself off the tree. She walked to the building.
It was a regular old building. And yet, somehow, the years of neglect hadn't touched it. Frey put her hand on the old, wooden door and pushed. The door didn't budge. Frey hummed and tried to look through the grimy old window next to the door. She took a step back and looked around for a rock to throw.
Finding one, Frey picked it up and threw it at the window. The window shattered with a loud crash and pieces of broken shards of glass scattered over the ground. She felt the demon shift around on her arm.
"Breaking and entering, eh?" Cuff asked with a smirk in his voice, watching as Frey swept the shards off the window sill.
"I just want to see what's inside." Frey said, pushing herself through the window
It was dark in the building. Broken pieces of wood were scattered all around, and there were easels propped against the walls. Stacks of crates were placed next to tables that were pushed against the wall. Frey hummed and walked to a crate and pried the lid off. Inside were dozens of canvases caked in dust. Frey frowned. Her eyes lit up and her eyes shifted to the mark on her arm.
"What is it?" Cuff asked, sensing her looking at him.
"Oh nothing." Frey said, quickly putting the lid back on the crate. "Question."
"Hm?"
"Do you know when you were born?" Frey leaned against the crate stack.
"I was *created*, Frey. Not born." Cuff muttered.
Frey closed her eyes. "Fine." She sighed again. "When were you *created*?"
"I don't know. A thousand years ago or something."
Frey hummed. She looked at the crates full of canvases. She looked at the easels.
"Didn't you say you wanted to become an artist?" She asked.
"Frey. How the *hell*," Cuff asked. "Am I supposed to use a paintbrush? I don't have *hands*!"
Frey sighed. "Such an ass..." She muttered, pushing herself away from the wall.
Cuff didn't talk to her. And Frey was alright with this silence. Besides, she has something to plan. Something special. She summoned a torana and stepped into an alleyway in New York. Sirens wailed in the distance and a cat leaped out of a trash can and ran away.
Frey walked through the streets, ignoring the demon who was now looking around with vague curiosity. Frey walked into a shop and headed straight for the decorations. She just needed some ribbons.
Frey stopped in front of a shelf stocked full of ribbons and banners and other party decorations and frowned.
"What's your favourite colour?" Frey whispered.
"I -. Pardon?" Cuff's voice was filled with surprise and shock.
"Just answer. Before someone thinks I am mad." Frey hissed, looking around the shop.
"Oh, goodness." Cuff said. "Talking to demons isn't normal in Newark?"
Frey narrowed her eyes into a glare at her arm. Cuff sighed.
"Gold. I like gold." He muttered.
"Of course you do." Frey muttered and, after looking around to make sure nobody could see her, she grabbed what she needed and left.
Back in Athia, Frey walked through Junoon whilst she pulled a wagon behind her. A crate full of canvases was placed on the wagon, along with some brushes and paints that she had taken from an artist in Cipal. Her satchel was filled with ribbons and streamers she had taken from the shop. Her next destination was Junoon.
Junoon's Castle came into view, and Frey hurried her steps. She could feel Cuff's curiosity through the bond. She smirked, excited for this small surprise that she had planned for him. Perhaps this will calm him down. Make him open up. Besides, although she really didn't want to inflate his ego (although she wasn't sure if that was possible), Cuff does need a day all about him.
Frey walked across the bridge that stretched across the moat and walked into the garden. She had spent most of her time here, in Junoon, exploring the castle and the realm. If she was to rule Athia, she herself must understand it. But she also just wanted to feel closer to her mom.
Frey climbed the stairs and walked to the hole in the wall. She let go of the wagon and slumped against the pile of rocks, breathing heavily. Cuff still didn't say anything. Frey didn't mind the silence. She just needed a second. Once Frey got her breath back, she grabbed the paints and climbed through the hole in the wall.
Frey climbed the stairs and walked to the room where it all started. Cuff couldn't take it anymore.
"What are you doing?" He asked.
"Shut up." Frey said. "This is a surprise."
"For me?" Cuff's tone was already surprised, and she hadn't even started yet.
"Yes now... look away. Close your - you don't have any eyes." Frey sighed, stopping at the entrance to the room at the top of the castle.
"I can blur my vision."
"Yeah. Do that. And don't unblur it until I tell you to." Frey walked into the room and set the paints on the rubble in the middle of the room.
Cuff sighed and went quiet. Frey looked at her arm. She waved her hands in front of it then gave her arm the finger. Cuff didn't say anything. Frey went straight to organising and setting up, walking back and forth from the wagon to the room.
Once she was done, she walked to the entrance and put her hands on her hips, admiring her work. A banner stretched across the room with the words 'Happy Creation Day' in big, yellow, Athian letters (she wasn't so sure if that was too much). An easel was placed at the center of the room with an empty canvas already on it and, leaning against the walls, were empty canvases. A stool was placed in front of the easel. And, hanging from the ceiling, were gold ribbons.
Frey bit her lip. This asshole better appreciate this. Frey sighed and held her arm up in front of her face.
"Hey!" She shouted.
Cuff sidn't respond. Frey sighed, feeling ridiculous already. She clicked her left fingers in front of her arm.
"Cuff!"
"Vambrace."
"He's alive!" Frey grinned, and Cuff sighed.
"What do you want, Frey?" Cuff asked.
"Uhh." Frey looked up at the banner, then back down at Cuff. "Actually, blur your vision again."
Cuff sighed and went back to his usual, grumpy silence. Frey scranbled to the banner and ripped it off the wall, tossing it out one of the broken windows. Frey went back to her spot and shook her arm.
"Cuff!" He sighed.
"What now?"
"Ta da!" Frey lifted her arms at the decorated room.
She felt Cuff's annoyance and confusion. Frey really was starting to think this wasn't a good idea.
"Might I ask why we are looking at a decorated room, easel, canvases and paints?" He asked.
"Just... celebrating your Creation Day." Frey said, lowering her arms slowly.
"Frey. I don't know when I was created. Nor why we are *celebrating* my Creation Day." Cuff shifted to her elbow.
"Well, fine. Don't want a day all about you then I can just take this down and we can go back to ignoring each other." Frey grumbled, walking to the easel.
But Cuff was quiet. And this wasn't his usual silence. It was... something else. As Frey reached out to grab the canvas, Cuff moved to her wrist.
"Wait!" He cried.
Frey froze and looked at her arm. Cuff cleared his throat, and she felt him shift around a little. Discomfort flashed through their bond.
"Could you... perhaps... grab that... erm... paint... brush?" He asked, and a ribbon of gold shot light shot out of Frey's arm.
"Sure." Frey said, grinning.
"Wipe that smile off your face, Holland."
Frey quickly stopped smiling. She took the paintbrush and held it up to the canvas. She waited for Cuff's instructions. He was quiet. Looking at the canvas with... some emotion... Frey couldn't describe it, but she knew what he was thinking.
Someone was actually focussing on him for once. And not to fight him. But to show they care. Of course, he wouldn't think that last part. But still.
A ribbon of light shot out of Frey's arm and made its way to the blue paint. Frey dipped the brushed in to the paint, tapped the excess of at the rim and held the brush up to the canvas. She waited for Cuff's next instruction. Cuff hummed, and Frey fought a grin. For once he was actually doing something he had wanted to do. He was holding a paintbrush instead of a sword. Or, well, Frey was. He was just... experiencing it.
Another light shot out from Frey's arm and hit the canvas, but it didn't disappear. Instead it moved across it. And Frey followed the light. Blue streaked across the top half of the canvas. The smell of eggs hit Frey and she gagged. Cuff told her to wipe the brush with a rag and Frey complied.
And so, Frey and Cuff sat in perfect, serene, silence. Neither spoke, but, with each brush stroke across the canvas, Frey could feel the demon relaxing for the first time in weeks. Has he ever relaxed at all during his time against the First Tanta?
"Careful." Cuff snapped, and Frey shook herself out of her thought process. She had nearly dropped some paint in a place that Cuff didn't want to be on.
On the bottom half of the canvas was green. Cuff had Frey strike the paintbrush in small, sharp strokes. And soon, Frey could see some grass. She wasn't exactly a good artist. But she was quite impressed with what she had managed to do so far.
Hours later and the sun had set. Frey put the last touches of the painting together and stepped back, admiring her and Cuff's work.
The sky was blue and the grass was green. Trees with blue crystals attached to them surrounded a girl sitting next to a campfire. The girl had brown hair tied into a braided bun. She wore a pink cloak, black pants and a black shirt. On her arm was a golden cuff.
Frey smiled. She knew the memory well. This was the day Cuff tried to distract her from the pain of finding out who her mother was by making jokes and telling stories. And it worked very well. Instead of crying, Frey was laughing. Cuff made a movement similar to a shrug.
"Guess I did well." He mumbled.
Frey raised both eyebrows at her arm. "*You* did?" She asked.
"Yes."
"What about me?!"
"You didn't do anything!"
"I did too." Frey said.
"You held a paintbrush."
"And I painted what you wanted." Frey said, gesturing to their painting.
"Alright. Why don't you make something without my instructions then, Miss Artist of the Year?" Cuff challenged.
"Nah." Frey shook her head. "Don't think I'd do as well as you."
"Yeah." Cuff's voice had a grin in it. "It's an alright painting."
"Well, I can throw it out if you'd like?" Frey moved to the painting and reached out to take it.
"Don't!" Cuff yelled, and Frey smirked at her arm.
"You do care." She said.
Cuff scoffed. "Keep dreaming." He muttered.
Frey yawned.
"It's getting late. We should turn in for the night. Come back for this and find some place to hang it." A ribbon of light haloed by birds shot out of Frey's arm and led her out of the room.
Frey followed his instructions. "Happy Creation Day, Cuff."
"Whatever, Frey." Cuff huffed, but there wasn't his usual amount of venom or anger in his voice.
But Frey knew, deep down, that this was, in fact, a surprise for him. And it worked. He had relaxed for the first time in weeks. And she could feel a smile through their bond.