“So.. we’re both taking the truth serum,” announced Lucien. “And we can both talk, like you wanted. I can sneak one the next time we have to brew some.”

“Are we really friends if we’re forcing each other to have an actual conversation,” I argue, hoping I’ve hidden my feelings of nervousness enough to go undetected.

“You trust me, don’t you? That’s why you want to talk to me? I trust you, so I want us to be more honest with each other.”

“What's this all of a sudden? You trust me? Are you serious?” I laugh, and pour out a large vat of green water used to soak a bitter herb for a scar removing salve. “Have you lost your mind? I’m constantly gossiping with Seraphina and Arthur.”

“I’m serious. The goal is that we won’t need the serum to speak openly with each other.”

“Why don’t we just talk under the condition that anything we say in this room stays between us, and we never talk about it again? And you won’t tell me anything that will get you killed?”

“Fine. I’ll start. I’m angry with Cyrus. He just returned to his group after almost dying, and is putting himself in harm's way again!”

“He’s dedicated. He cares,” I say, coming to his defense.

I place the vat on the ground with a grunt.

“He doesn’t care about me, though,” says Lucien, stepping up next to me, and helping me readjust the drum on the cooling rack.

“You’re just one person. He’s trying to save many.”

I wipe my sweat off on my apron, and smile to indicate to Lucien that I no longer require his help. He returns to his place at the table, and continues to grind dragon scales, being careful not to let a single one go to waste.

“How dare you take his side,” he pouts.

“How dare you be so selfish!” I scoff. “He’s trying to do something good.”

“If he’d just return to the Grove-”

“At least he’s trying to do something!”

“And he’s going to get himself pointlessly killed.”

“It won’t be pointless if he’s standing up for what he believes in.”

Lucien huffs. “You’re probably right, but I can’t... I just can’t stop worrying about it all. He almost died. I feel sick with worry.”

“But he’s still alive, and that’s what matters, isn’t it?”

“Stop! Don’t make it sound like a good thing, when it’s clearly not.”

“Lucien Moonshadow, I’m surprised at you. ”

“I don’t want to lose him, Luna. I’m terrified,” his voice cracks, and he takes a shuddering breath to regain control.

I walk over to the table, and take the remaining dragon scales. There are not many left, but they’re difficult to grind with a mortar and pestle. I crack my knuckles and begin to pound away at them.

“I’m sorry,” I say, quietly. “Have you spoken to him about it?”

“He... no.”

“You should try that first, then.”

“I feel ridiculous. These are just... feelings.”

“Your feelings matter, Luce. Relationships are made up mostly of feelings. Maybe at a smaller ratio between the two of you.”

“Gods, what would you know? You’ve been single for years now. You haven’t had to worry about anyone except yourself,” he smirks.

“And your sorry ass!”

We share a laugh.

“You’re right, though,” I continue. “I forget you’re the expert on relationships now.”

“I’m not. You’ve made good friends with Arthur and Seraphina. Mostly Seraphina. What do you and Seraphina talk about all the time, anyway? I’ve always wondered. You always look so cheerful after having lunch with her.”

“Oh, Lucien, that’s holy ground. Why do you want to tread there?”

“Because the two of you seem closer lately, and I am nosy.”

“Hmm...” I grumble, trying to recall my last conversation with her. “I think I was talking about Henry, and how much I’d like to...”

“How much you’d like to...?”

I blush, and crush my scales with more force.

“I won’t force you, but you said you’d open up.”

“How much damage could I do to my reputation in a single day?” I chortle. “I was telling her how badly I’d like to squeeze his buttocks because it looked so firm and plump.”

He stares at me wide-eyed, and his mouth falls open.

“And that’s why I don’t speak to you about these things.”

“I need to meet this Henry.”

“Excuse you, you’re already taken. Leave some men for me to fantasize about.”

“You fantasize about him?”

“Absolutely. I dream he leaves Rosalina because he’s in love with me, and we run off, and get married in secret. We have a love child, and name her Annabelle.”

“You don’t even want children.”

“I don’t.”

“I never realized you’re more insane than I thought.”

“You’re judging me,” I laugh, sprinkling a bit more diamond dust into the mortar.

“I had no idea you were...”

“Improper?”

“It suits you. How strange,” he says, eyeing me up and down.

“Does it? My sisters are embarrassed of me. They always look so scandalized.”

“They’re clearly not around you enough to witness your other shortcomings.”

“Ha!” I exclaim, startling him. “They’d immediately tell my parents. Could you imagine what my mother would think of me? I’d never be able to look her in the eye.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for one, my best friend is a dark elf, and while she has nothing against dark elves, she definitely wouldn’t want to deal with the consequences of finding out you’re my best friend.”

“I’m your-”

“If she knew how badly I wanted to- Oh!” I scream, a sharp pain coursing through my wrist.

Lucien rushes to my side, and takes my hand.

“How badly you what?”

“No. I’m not saying anything.”

“It’s about me. I noticed you’re never really honest with your feelings for me.”

I walk over to the supply closest, and take out a healing salve. “We’re friends.”

“You say that, but... sometimes I have my doubts.”

“Sir Lucien Moonshadow, have I been a terrible friend to you? Allow me to right this wrong!” I cry out, with a laugh.

Lucien steps into the supply closet, and locks the door behind him.

“Is someone here?” I ask, quietly.

“Yes,” he whispers

He presses himself against the walls to remain hidden in the shadows. The light reflecting off his eyes is all I can see in the darkness.

“Should I go out there?” I whisper.

He presses a finger to his lips.

I peek through the keyhole of the closet. There’s a light elf searching the shop, being careful not to disturb any of the objects. I walk through the door, mustering up a fake air of confidence.

“Hello,” I say, announcing myself loudly. “Can I help you?”

“O-Oh!” The elf jumps back, nearly knocking my mortar.

I reflexively reach for it, but she quickly steadies it.

“I... just need a healing potion,” her voice is small and meek.

“If you’d entered through the front of the shop, you would have passed by them on your way in.”

“My apologies.”

We leave the back of the shop, and I gather up several healing potions for her.

“That’ll be two silver coins.”

“Right,” she hesitates, pulling out her coin purse.

“Will that be all?” I ask, taking the coins from her hands as they shake.

“Does... someone else work here?”

“The sign does say Madam Treeleaf, does it not? And I’m certainly not her. She had to step out, but she’ll return shortly if you wish to speak with her. Did you have a special request? You can leave it anonymously. I swear not to look at it. A contraceptive? A fertility potion? Most light elves come here in search of fertility potions.”

“That won’t be necessary. Thank you,” she blushes, her cheeks becoming slightly golden.

When she exits, I step into the back of the shop, and collapse at the table. Some time passes before Lucien dares exit the supply closet.

“Lune, how... Did you do that?”

“Do what, Luce?” I ask, irritably.

“You lied expertly.”

“Well, I had very controlling parents, so I guess I’m still an expert at it.”

“Did you? You never told me that.”

Lucien and I lie under the stars after a long day of examinations. Cyrus has once again missed the opportunity to make things up to Lucien.

“I’m going to kill him,” I grumble.

“I’m fine,” Lucien’s voice cracks.

“He can’t keep doing this to you. Look at you! You’re a mess.”

“You said so yourself... he’s dedicated to a higher cause.”

Stolen story; please report.

“He’s been gone for months!”

“It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. I’ve felt the tension between them when Cyrus actually shows up at the shop. I want to punch him each time he makes Lucien a promise, and then makes him cry like this. My heart can’t take much more of it. I feel crushed by the invisible force of helplessness as I witness Lucien take him back over and over again.

“Lucien... there’s a relationship, and there’s... whatever you call this thing between the two of you,” I complain. “He has time to see you when he’s... needy, and then disappears when he’s satisfied himself. I don’t like it one bit.”

Lucien keeps his gaze to the stars. I reach out for his hand, and squeeze it lightly.

“I don’t think... he loves me. O-Or rather... I think I’m-”

“I don’t think he does either! If he loved you, he’d be sure to show up every morning at the shop and make you smile. He’d bring you your favorite treats. He’d remember your birthday for once. He’d help you with that awful mess on your head. He’d... polish your horns.”

“Polish my horns?” He laughs.

“I don’t know what you do with those things. I’m talking nonsense, and I’m angry! I’m angry, Lucien! On your behalf, if you must know.”

“Maybe... the two of us need to talk.”

“Is that what you think?” I snark.

He turns to me, and laughs.

“No, really? Is that what you think? I think you should just lie down on the ground, and let him walk all over you- Oh wait! You’re already doing that!”

“Luna, drink some water, you're drunk.”

“I’m still right!” I splutter, just before chugging down a cup of water.

Cyrus doesn’t show up at the shop, and I can’t help notice the familiar look of sadness on Lucien’s face. His face doesn’t express it, but I can see it; the slow, heavy movements of his hands, the distant stare in his eyes, the silence between us.

“Have you heard?” Whispers Seraphina. “There are rumors that Lady Angelina is part dark elf.”

“It makes sense,” I say, absently. “I hear she’s breath-takingly beautiful, and that her soft skin reflects the light of the moon.”

Lucien and I make brief eye contact, and he turns away quickly, the tips of his ears darkening.

“Well, Lord Raiden has been silent about the whole matter. There are rumors he’ll join the Guardians in ridding the City of Lights of dark elves.”

“Everyone has gone mad!” I grumble. “I don’t understand why they’re all against the dark elves. What have they done?”

“I don’t know,” sighs Arthur, taking a long drink of his ale. “But there are rumors spreading that the dark elves are evil creatures sent to destroy Sol or some nonsense.”

“Look,” I grumble. “Demons or not, Lucien is heart-broken. I’m going to find Cyrus, and kill him.”

Lucien’s ear twitches, and he gets up suddenly from his seat. Cyrus enters the shop door, being tackled by Lucien who rushes him, and embraces him tightly.

“He showed up,” whispers Seraphina.

“He better have,” I mutter.

I hide away from the light, and try to catch my breath. Sweat drips from my brow as I clutch my chest, feeling as if my heart might burst.

“Are you alright?” Asks Lucien, stepping cautiously towards me.

“Everything is bright,” I pant.

“Yes, your pupils are dilated.”

“I can hardly breathe.”

“Yes. Your heart rate has been accelerated.”

“What in Gaia’s name were you brewing? I feel like I’m dying.”

“I... was trying to brew love.”

“Lucien!” I scold. “Why?”

“Just don’t mention it to Lucien,” murmurs Cyrus, uncomfortably, after I’ve begged him to allow me to join the rebellion.

“Of course not, but you need help, don’t you?”

“Are you sure about this, Lou?” He asks, giving me an uneasy look.

“Just tell me what to do. I’ll do what I can.”

“Why the hell are you bleeding all over our work table, Luna?” Screams Lucien. “What in Selene’s name were you doing?”

He presses a rag to my wound, and I scream at the top of my lungs from the stinging pain, gripping his arm tightly, as I struggle to catch my breath.

“What were you doing?” He asks again, more loudly.

“They wanted the truth serum.”

“Who?” He growls.

“Nobo- Damn!” I scream, when he presses the rag roughly against my wound. “You’re hurting me.”

“Who, Luna?”

“Just some thugs.”

“I better not find out you’re lying to me.”

“Or what? You’ll stab another knife into my side?”

Lucien presses his forehead to mine, and inhales sharply.

“You’re going to need stitches,” he mutters.

“Then let’s put the mead to good use.”

I feel a cold sweat on my brow as I struggle to lift the crate of potions.

“Luna, sit,” Lucien scolds. “You’re still recovering.”

“I’m fine. If I continue to work, I’ll keep my strength up,” I say, stubbornly, grimacing the moment I realize that I sound like my mother.

“I swear to Selene herself that if you open your stitches, I will watch you bleed out.”

I place the crate down, and take a seat at the workbench.

“It’s nothing but deliveries today, though. You can’t do those things.”

“I’ve taken care of it, just get some rest. Return to the Academy. Have a good meal, and get some studying done.”

“I’m not a flower,” I laugh, taking a heavy crate off the shelf. “Besides, shouldn’t you go off to see your lover boy somewhere? I can handle the shop alone for the day. There’s not much to do.”

“He had to cancel.”

I take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Right, of course he did.”

“It was probably something important,” he says, sadly.

“Most likely.”

“I need more dragonfly wings, and this glowing plant, whatever it is,” I complain to Cyrus, sifting through a box of potion ingredients. “The ones you have are not good. You’re a fool for having paid so much for them.”

Cyrus grimaces. “That bad?”

“I wouldn’t pay someone to drink this. You should be more careful with how you spend your coins. These would be in much better shape if you’d picked them yourself, and they’re not uncommon.”

“Fine. I’ll send some of the others to go and pick some herbs next time.”

“I’ll do the same when I find the time. Why do you need so many healing potions?”

“It’s a war, Luna. We’re not coming out unscathed.”

“I’ll create a stronger one for all of you when I find the time.”

“How’s your wound?”

“Did you find out which of your people betrayed you?”

“We took care of it. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Did you get the potions back?”

“We did.”

“Good, because that is the only batch you’re ever getting. Lucien is getting suspicious.”

“Understood. How... How is he?”

“You’d know if you took the time to see him,” I mutter, tapping nervously against the side of the crate with my dagger.

“I’m busy,” he scoffs.

“Then so is he.”

There’s a moment of silence between us, as I begin to wash the pile of herbs sitting before me, all of them in poor shape. The small room serving as my workroom is cramped, and I barely have any space to do my work properly, but the equipment is some of the best I’ve seen.

“You’re a good friend to him, Luna.”

“You should strive for such greatness,” I sigh, getting started on a list of ingredients I was going to need to make higher quality potions.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I could compete with you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If you’d just show up when you say you will, it wouldn’t be such a problem. If you stopped making him promises you can’t keep, it’d be much less of a problem. You’re. Causing. Your. Own. Problems!”

“Shh,” he hisses. “Half the city is going to hear you.”

I blush, having not realized I’d been screaming at him like I do Lucien. “Sorry, I just...”

“You’re his friend. I understand your frustration with me, but now’s not the time.”

“You keep hurting him,” I say, quietly.

“I know.”

“So stop, you ass,” I hiss.

“Ass? Did you just call me an ass? Are you trying to get yourself kicked out?”

“Are you saying you’re going to find someone else to illegally make these potions for your rebel group of dark elves?”

“Sweet Selene, you are as difficult as Lucien says.”

“Whatever he said was more tame, because I’m really much more difficult than he thinks. Here,” I hand him my list. “I’ve written down some ingredients I need before tomorrow. I’m going to start up some potions that will be more useful to you with those sad things you gave me to work with. In the meantime, I brought some healing salves in my bag. I hope you have clean bandages.”

“We do.”

I dismiss him with a wave of my hand. “Get to work, then.”

“You’re not... going to do it?”

I turn in my chair, and stare at him with a wide grin. “You want me to brew your potions, and do the healing?”

“I can prepare the ingredients for you.”

“Ha, they’re in such poor shape, I don’t think you could even figure out what you’re doing.”

“You can explain-”

“Does the sight of blood make you feel uneasy, Cyrus?”

He stares blankly at me.

“You better get used to it. Like you said, this is war. But I suppose for now you can show me where you keep your sewing kit?”

“Sewing kit?”

“Never mind, I’ve got one in my bag.”

As I visit each of the dark elves in need of healing, I explain to Cyrus how I expect each ingredient to be prepared. He listens carefully, and asks many questions, but goes pale each time I’m cleaning and sealing up wounds.

“I’m not sure how to set this, so you need to find someone who’s more practiced in healing,” I gesture towards a dark elf with a broken arm.

“Do we need a healer? You can’t do it yourself?”

“Yes, you do need one! I just make potions. I don’t know anything else. I can find something to prevent infection, though, while you find a proper healer. There are plenty of Water-Bearers amongst your kind. It shouldn’t be difficult. I might know someone.”

“Right. And you’ll learn from them?”

“Absolutely not. I have other things to do, Cyrus. I have to attend my classes, study, and work at the shop.”

“You asked to join. Why are you getting so upset?”

“To help any way I can, not become a healer.”

“It’s not a bad skill to have.”

“Then you’re learning potion making.”

“Sure.”

“From Luce.”

“Luna!”

“Think of it as a bonding experience. A much needed one, at that.”

“At least,” he turns away when I begin to sew closed another wound. “Teach me a few things so I don’t appear to be a complete idiot.”

“You’re a dark elf. You already know, don’t you?”

“I mean... I know, I just don’t make potions, and I didn’t grow up in the Grove. I can recognize most plants from there, but they’re different here.”

“Right. I have a plant guide in my bag. You can study it. I’ll get a new one, and transfer my notes. Can you read common?”

“A bit. Thank you.”

“You’re going to need much more than potion knowledge to impress him. I recommend bringing him a small treat each time.”

“Why are you trying to help me?”

“Why not? You like him. He likes you, though I can’t imagine why. I need him to stop being so gloomy in the shop. It’s tedious enough, most days.”

“What did you tell Cyrus?” Asks Lucien, looking up from my essay paper. “He’s been different lately.”

“I told him to treat you better. Is he doing that?”

“He is.”

“Good,” I say. “Now focus. How is my paper?”

“You’re sort of all over the place in this paragraph. I’ve rearranged it for you, so it sounds more...”

“Better?”

“Exactly.”

Lucien and I are staring up at the stars, but the tension between him and Cyrus is strong, and I want to leave. They’re angry with each other, and I’m not sure I want to know why.

I place a bottle of truth serum on the table, and frown at him. “Take it. We need to talk.”

“No.”

“Lucien Moonshadow!”

“Please, no,” he gives me a sad look.

“Then tell me what happened, because you look very upset right now,” my voice cracks.

“We’re no longer in a relationship.”

“Is that why you’re mad at me? Are you blaming me?”

“I am.”

“Fine,” I say, curtly.

I take up the truth potion, place it back on the shelf, perfectly hidden behind Lucien’s cookie jar. I remove my cloak from the hook, and pull it on as I head out of the shop.

“Since we’re all done here, I’ll see you another day.”

“N- Luna, please don’t... Don’t leave,” Lucien says quietly, running after me as I exit the shop.

“That’s not the impression you’re giving me. Go inside. You’re not safe out here.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just...”

He takes my hand, and we walk back into the shop. He takes a drop of the truth serum, then holds the bottle out to me.

“Oh, no,” I tell him. “I’m not taking that. I haven’t been lying to you.”

“Have you? Is that why you’re covered in blood each time you return from your lunch break?”

I take a drop of the potion, and we take a seat on opposite sides of the work table.

“We won’t talk about this tomorrow,” I say, this line now well rehearsed.

“And we won’t discuss anything life-threatening. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Now, explain the blood. You’re not a vampire, are you?”

“Wouldn’t you know? My heart wouldn’t beat.”

“Well, some of them are very good at pretending to be human.”

“Are they? Even with an aversion to sunlight?”

“In the Grove, it’s easier for them to hide. Everything is always cold and dark.”

“What do they feed off?”

“The wildlife. Dark elf blood makes them sick.”

“Convenient.”

“You’re very good at changing the subject.”

“You started. If you must know, I’m learning about healing. I thought it would be useful.”

“Healing?”

“Yes.”

“Covered in blood, Luna? Are you sure you’re not- Is someone making sure you’re doing things correctly?”

“Cyrus has asked me to help him. It might have something to do with the rebellion.”

“What?” He slams his palms on the work table. “Is he putting you in danger?”

“No. I’m perfectly safe. It’s nothing to be worried about.”

“Are you sure?”

“The most danger I’m in is losing my voice yelling at him as he learns potion making. He’s not very good at following directions.”

“He’s... he’s not,” he chuckles. “So that time you got stabbed... it had nothing to do with him?”

“No. The two of you separated? Truly?”

“Yes.”

“Temporarily, I’m sure.”

“Probably.”

“You’re so pathetic sometimes, Lucien,” I hiss, looking away from him.

“I know,” he says, pityingly.

We make our way upstairs into the attic room, where things feel more private, and where we’re less likely to be overheard with all the silencing enchantments. We take a seat on a small sofa in his room, and he leans on my shoulder, allowing his hair to fall into my lap. I fiddle with the end of his braid, pulling the hair tie loose.

“Such a mess. Why don’t you take care of it?” I grumble, disapprovingly.

“I’m waiting for you to volunteer. Want a comb?”

“Yes, please,” I say, immediately undoing his braid.

It becomes completely undone by the time he returns to me with a comb in his hand. He turns his back to me, and takes a seat. I catch my breath, and try to control my frantically beating heart.

“There it is again,” he chuckles.

“Shut up,” I whine. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

He leans back until he falls into my lap. I reflexively wrap my arms around his face, and rest my forehead against his.

“I want you,” he whispers, his warm breath sending sparks through my body.

“You don’t. You’re just heartbroken,” I whisper back.

His ears flutter. “I do, though.”

“I’m not taking Cyrus’ table scraps. Besides, you’ll take him back when he asks, won’t you? The two of you can’t stay away from each other for long.”

He looks up, and furrows his brows. “I won’t.”

“You will.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you always do.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“I’m glad you realized it.”

“Can you stay the night? I’ll sleep here on the sofa.”

“Nonsense, it’s too small for you. Your legs would hang off the sides.”

“I don’t want to sleep alone. I just can’t,” his eyes glisten, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

“You won’t. I’m sure he’ll be climbing through that window any moment now, so we should probably fix up your hair. You look like the tail of a hippogriff.”

He gets up, and locks the window. “No, he won’t.”

“Lucien, don’t be that way.”

“Lune, I have such an ache in my chest. I just want to collapse, and sob until there’s nothing left. This isn’t working between us.”

“That’s called heartbreak. I know it well.”

“I’m so angry. How could he just end things so abruptly when they were going so well!”

“Things were going well?” I scoff. “Are you sure about that? From what I saw...”

“We were spending time together. We were laughing, and smiling again like we did in the beginning.”

“Come on, sit. Talk to me while I comb.”

“You really don’t have to, Lune. I can do it myself.”

“You could, but I actually enjoy it, and do it properly.”

“I can’t understand you. It’s just hair,” he huffs.

“You don’t have to. It’s beautiful hair. Just enjoy my services free of charge. Besides, I miss doing this with my sisters. It makes me... happy.”

He takes a seat in front of me, and I begin to untangle the bottom of his locks, and slowly make my way to the top.

“Maybe it’ll stay neater for longer this time,” I tease him. “Since you won’t go rolling around any grass for a while.”

“Luna Masters, you’re heartless. You’re making fun of a very serious situation.”

I begin to braid the sections of his hair, enjoying the way the light reflects off each strand. The tension seeps out of his body, his shoulders falling, and his breath more gentle.

“That’s better,” I say, quietly.

He sighs. “It is.”

I tie up the end of his braid, and admire my work before getting his feathers back into place. He admires himself in a mirror when I’m done, then points the mirror at me. We stare at each other’s reflections.

“Luna, I-”

There’s a knock at the window, and I slip out the shop unseen by Cyrus.