Emelri opened groggy eyes then immediately tensed when she caught sight of the sleeping face inches from her own. Pepin looked so peaceful, so defenseless. She knew she shouldn’t, but she stared and stared and... stared. She examined the dark eyelashes and messy black curls that framed his copper-colored face.

It wasn’t until he stirred slightly, changing positions in his sleep, that she was shaking herself out of the trance. Sighing, she very carefully crawled out of the warm covers, instantly hit with a sharp chill as she did. Tucking the magic user back in, she got up and changed into her day clothes then left the tent.

By the time she started on breakfast, Pepin was awake and shakily stepping out of the tent.

“Woah, woah!” Emelri put down the wooden spoon she held and rushed over to his side to support him under the arm. “You should have told me you were up! Don’t push yourself.”

His weight sank into her. “I’m still so weak.”

“Yeah, no shit. Here, come sit down. The food won’t be ready for a while. Let me get you a blanket so you don’t freeze.”

“Emi...”

“No, I’m not fussing like Adrian, okay? It’s just us out here and I’m responsible for your recovery. I’ll be right back.” Quickly fetching one of the covers, she came back and wrapped it quickly around the already shivering young man who now sat on the large, flat rock she’d claimed previously for cooking. “You know who’s more like Adrian is you, Pep; not accepting help when you need it.”

He snorted. “That’s true. You’re much more like Jacques anyway; stubborn as hell.”

She clicked her tongue before sitting next to him, picking up the spoon to poke at the dark shapes in the water. “Whatever.”

Grinning, he peered into the pot. “What’s this?”

“Sweet potatoes.”

“What are you making?”

“A traditional Alchemist breakfast. I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

“I probably will. Besides, I’ll eat anything you make me, salted or not.” She shot him a look, and he chuckled. “I’m only kidding.”

A tinge of heat filled her cheeks that had nothing to do with the boiling water. “Well, anyway. I’m going to start sauteing some beef and onions. Tippo is similar to that Venwickin breakfast dish I really like.”

“Tippo?”

“That’s what I’m making. We had some the morning we left Lula’s.”

“Oh! Yes, I really enjoyed that dish.”

“Yeah, it’s great.”

“Can you teach me how to make it?”

She blinked over at him. “You... want me to teach you?” He nodded. “Well, alright, but I’m not letting you push yourself. I have everything chopped up already. Why don’t you add the ingredients once the pan is heated up?” Taking out an iron skillet from one of many bags at her feet, she set it on the metal bars clamped over the firepit Adrian had helped her build the day before. It touched the potato pot next to it. “Let me find the oil. Where does Adrian keep it...”

“In here.” She turned her head to see him taking a large, corked bottle out of one of the bags.

“Oh, yes. Thank you. I’ve been struggling so hard to find everything since you two always take care of the cooking.”

“Yeah, we tend to take over when it comes to kitchen matters. Remember when Andre still lived with us?”

She chuckled. “It was a warzone.”

“I don’t want to be like that. You can always cook with Adrian and I if you want to.”

She nudged his arm. “Thanks. That’s very big of you, though we’ll see how long that sentiment lasts.”

He made a face, nudging her in return.

There was silence as they both watched the potatoes float around the bubbling water while Pepin waited for the pan to heat up, and contentment hung in the air. After a few minutes, she watched as his face slowly turned to something more solemn.

“Emi, can you be honest with me?”

“Hm?” She considered him carefully. “About what?”

“Do you think it’s worth us being out here? I mean, was this whole trip just a waste of time?”

Her heart sank. “I’m... not sure.”

“All we’ve managed to do is follow Toulou around all over Yayma. We’re expending so much energy over this, and Toulou couldn’t care less.”

“That’s not entirely true. I definitely think they care. And you know, Lula thinks we’re doing the right thing. Maybe the point isn’t bringing Toulou back but being there if they need our help. Supporting them in the way that we can is the best we can offer and that’s worth more than I think either of us knows.”

“You don’t think they’ll come home with us?”

“I think they will. At this point, they’re going to do what they want regardless of what we decide, and Carnadine is their goal right now. Their only way out of Yayma is with our help, so that’s when they’ll finally need to turn to us. Right now, though, I don’t think they’ve even thought through that much yet.”

He bit his lip. “They’re completely consumed by this revenge. I just hope when the time comes, they’ll realize how much we all love them even if it’s while I’m blasting them in the face with lightning.”

She laughed. “If it weren’t for their invisibility, you would’ve had them earlier.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“You think so?”

“Ohhh yeah. Toulou rarely shows emotion, but they were shivering in their boots.”

He considered her in surprise, then pursed his lips. “They were not.”

“They were! I’m serious. You can ask Adrian when he gets back. He saw the same fight as me.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so. Jacques knew exactly what he was saying when he said you underestimate your abilities. You could murder me on the spot right now with a flick of your wrist. It wouldn’t even be hard.”

“Except I wouldn’t.”

“My point still stands.”

He searched her face then snorted. Something warm crossed his face as he added the oil to the pan. “Do you remember when I faced up against Toulou for the first time in Jacques’s lesson all those weeks ago?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“At first I was unable to face them because I was feeling unsure of myself.”

“Right, and then Jacques had me and you face off and suddenly you were fine fighting them. I remember.”

“Exactly. Where do you think all that confidence came from?”

She watched as he swirled the oil in the pan, coating it. “From distracting yourself maybe?”

“No. Emi, it came from you.”

“Huh?”

Their eyes met. “You’ve always made me feel more confident from the moment we first met. I never stood up for myself back then. The idea had never even occurred to me. Even just telling Toulou how I felt when I was younger was never an option until you first suggested it. You’re the reason I’m where I’m at right now.”

“Wha—No, Pep.” She shook her head quickly. “You did all the work. I didn’t give you confidence. All I did was stand to the side supporting you.”

“And that meant and still means everything to me.” A sizzling noise rang out as he added the sliced onions. “I may be the one who finally chose to be confident but you’re the one who always believed I could be, and that made all the difference.”

She watched him, unsure what to say, then noticed the sweat on his brow and placed her hand over his to stop him. “Let me take over for a bit,” she said softly. “You still look exhausted.” He gave a small nod and relented.

Taking the spoon from him, she pushed the onions around. “It really does make me happy to see you feeling more content with yourself. You’re a stronger magic user than ever, and you’ve found a family that you love. I know your mother would be so proud if she were here.”

Something vulnerable washed over his face. “You think so? Thank you for saying that, Emi.”

“Of course. You’re more confident than you’ve ever been.”

He hummed in acknowledgment. “Now, if only we could apply the same logic to you.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” She didn’t mean to sound so defensive. “I’m confident... enough.”

“Yes, but you hold yourself back sometimes. I know you struggle to love yourself, Emi, er, sorry if that’s too forward of me to suggest—”

“Pfft, I... love myself.” She stumbled over the L word, feeling herself get flustered. “Ridiculous.”

“I don’t know if you do.”

“I—” She clenched her jaw slightly then sighed. “I-I know.” They both stared at the pan while she added the minced beef to it. When the sizzling died down, she said quietly, “You know I’m afraid to allow myself to be happy. It’s because I don’t feel like I deserve it.”

“But you do.”

“It’s difficult for me to accept that. I was raised to believe that I was given this life to suffer, not to enjoy it. It sounds strange, but I think I like suffering, in a way. It’s familiar, safe, and then I don’t need to feel guilty.”

“Guilty? For what?”

She shrugged. “For feeling happy.”

“But you can and should feel happy. There’s always suffering, but there’s also so much out there that is wonderful that you shouldn’t be ashamed to enjoy. Things, and... and people that can bring you joy.” She looked at him just as nervous green eyes shied away from her face. “You don’t need to hold yourself back from feeling content.”

“…Thanks, Pep. I should listen to your advice more.”

“You think?”

She considered the smug expression then snorted, lightly hitting his arm. “You’re so sassy sometimes. I don’t know where it comes from.”

“Probably my mom, plus, have you met our fathers?”

“Fair point.” Her heart lifted as she watched him for a moment. “Pep...” His eyes met hers. “You know, you...” She hesitated, then exhaled as the nerves sunk in. “I think you should lay down. You look so pale. I’ll get you when the food is ready, but you really do look unwell.”

He nodded. “Will you help me get there?”

“‘Course.” Setting the pan down, she wrapped an arm around him and helped him up.

They made it inside when he was asking, “Would you say you’re happy right now?”

Stopping beside the sleeping mat, she examined his face. “I suppose I am.”

“And why’s that?”

“Well...” she helped him down into a sitting position, and hesitated for a moment, “because I’m with you, Pep.” Giving a small smile and making it her own turn to shy away, she stood again quickly, adding, “I’ll wake you up when the Tippo is ready,” and darted outside like a scared rabbit.

An hour later, after gobbling up his meal, the weary magic user had to return to the tent again to sleep while Emelri went about doing their chores. By the time evening rolled around, she was inside again, helping an awake Pepin lift his shirt off.

“Your leg is basically healed,” she said as her eyes were now very busy looking over the contents of her shoulder bag and not at the basically shirtless man in front of her, “so we just need to change the bandages on your arm for a few days. It’s a much deeper laceration. Toulou almost sliced through bone with that one.”

“Yeah, I know. Do you remember back when you were the risk taker?”

She was met with a little smirk, and she breathed out a laugh. “Yes, but one day I realized getting stabbed hurts and I stopped that shit at once.” Unable to find what she was looking for, she dumped the bag onto the floor. “I just had my bandages out. I have too much shit in here.”

“You do have a lot of stuff.” His eyes fell over it all.

Seeing the bundle of cloth, Emelri snatched it up, setting it beside her as she reached out and began undoing the old one still around Pepin’s magic covered arm. Once it was off, she smiled. “Hey, it’s looking really good! How are your internal wounds?”

“They don’t hurt anymore. I’m confident we can travel tomorrow.”

“Really? That’s great, Pep.” She wetted a cloth with liquid of Zuri’s invention. “You’re looking much more energetic too.”

“Yeah. I feel more awake too and—” His breath hitched the second she pressed cloth to skin.

“Sorry, but it helps.”

“I know.” His eyes shifted away to all the things on the ground again. “Hey, isn’t that Lya?”

“What?” She blinked in confusion, then looked down at the little wooden bird now in his palm. Panic shot through her like lightning.

“You kept her?”

“O-of course.” She was now very focused on stretching out the new bandage, cutting it at the right length.

“Why’d you bring it all the way out here?”

“Guess it slipped into my bag by accident. Didn’t even know it was there...” She didn’t need to look up to know he wasn’t buying it. “Anyway.”

Taking the new strip, she leaned forward, and began wrapping it around his arm. He winced again.

“Sorry, sorry,” she whispered.

“Hey.”

She looked up mid wrap, and realized their faces were inches apart.

“Don’t apologize.” He said it softly, not moving or looking away.

A clump of curls fell forward, covering part of his face. Her hand was there suddenly, brushing it out of his eyes.

With realization, she gave a quick, “Sorry,” and retracted it.

He gently caught the hand with his, searching her face. “You can touch me, Emi.”

Her mouth fell open as she searched his face. “I-I can?”

“Of course.” Her heart skipped a beat. “May I... Um, may I...” His gaze flitted down to her mouth then back up, and her eyes widened in understanding.

Tongue tied, she slowly nodded, getting closer. He was shorter than her in this position, sitting on his side as she was kneeled in front of him, so he had to raise his chin to meet her lips.

Neither moved for a long moment, both too scared to go any further until she moved her mouth against his and he reciprocated. One of his hands found her waist and she went to touch his face, but bumped his arm wound instead.

Flinching out of the kiss, he quickly looked down at the injury.

“Shit, sorry.” She picked up the dropped bandage. “Let me finish up.” He nodded, and her face burned under his gaze as she made the quickest wrap of her life. “There.” She rested her hand just above the bandage, finding his eyes again.

Her other hand was enclosed in his as he brought it to his chest, resting it right over the binder. “Kiss me.”

Again, with nothing to say, she simply cupped his face with her free hand and pressed her lips to his. There were no thoughts, no words; only Pepin and nothing else.