Gavin groaned, lightly pressing the heel of his boot into his horse’s side to try and goad him forward just a little bit faster than a crawl. Michael had offered him a hundred times over a new horse, a younger one, a “racer.” He’d always refused because he’d been riding Lloyd since he was a teenager and he’d kept up perfectly well with the other horses until a few years ago, and was probably fifty times as loyal.
Through this particular journey though, he started to realize that he was probably doing more to work him into the ground than anything else and he would probably be a better friend to Lloyd by letting him finally live out his remaining horsey days in relaxation and luxury.
He wasn’t looking forward to the “I told you so’s” he’d get from Michael because of it, but honestly, riding several yards behind the rest of the group nearly the whole journey wasn’t doing much to prove him wrong.
When he started to round the top of the hill, he saw Geoff finishing a swig of his flask before passing it off to Michael, and Ray, dismounted, doodling shapes in the dirt with a stick as his horse munched on grass. When he finally came into view, Michael turned his head towards him, smirking.
“And coming up in last place is… Dumbass,” he teased, screwing the top back onto the flask and throwing it at Gavin’s head. He tried to catch it, missed (of course,) and nearly dove headfirst off of Lloyd to try and catch it mid-air.
“Idiot,” he grumbled as the other three started cackling, sliding off of his horse and picking the flask up out of the grass. He unscrewed the top and took a pull, wincing slightly as the burning liquid slid down his throat.
“We’ve been waiting here for, like, three hours, asshole,” Geoff snarked, taking the flask that Gavin held out to him.
“I really, highly doubt that,” Gavin said, sticking his foot in one of his stirrups and swinging a leg over Lloyd. The old colt gave a sigh of exertion, which Gavin steadfastly ignored, fully knowing the other men had heard it.
Michael snorted, shaking his head.
“Slow down, Speed Racer, let our horses have a break,” he said, letting his horse, Eucliffe, trot up next to Lloyd so he could kick Gavin squarely in the shin.
“Oi, give me a break, all right? This is probably Lloyd’s last ride, let him finish his tenure with dignity at least,” he huffed, chin held high haughtily.
To his surprise, instead of a snotty retort, Michael raised his eyebrows at him. “Really? You’re finally letting the old boy retire?”
“Yeah,” Gavin sighed, patting the side of Lloyd’s neck, receiving a chuffle and a shake of his head in return. “He deserves it, honestly, carting my arse all over the place, riding headfirst into trouble. Time for an equine vacation.”
Again, Michael didn’t mock him or make a smart comment, just nodded. “You can have your pick of the colts and mares from around the kingdom when we get home. Although, I’m not sure any of them will be able to tolerate you like old Lloyd here,” he smiled, reaching out to scratch Lloyd behind the ears.
“He’ll be let out to graze first in the morning and his own personal attendant,” Michael continued, taking his hand back and sitting up straighter, the posture he takes when he wants to appear regal.
“Oh,” Gavin mumbled, surprised. “You don’t have to do that.” He loved the idea of someone waiting on his horse hand and hoof but ever since Michael’s kingdom had brought him in, he’d hated feeling like he was putting them out. Michael, for all his teasing and abuse, loved to spoil his subjects and Gavin had noticed that he got a little extra attention.
“Well, good thing I wasn’t asking you then, idiot,” Michael snapped, tone mocking again, putting Gavin at ease. He kicked his heel into Eucliffe’s side, coaxing him forward. When Gavin didn’t immediately follow him, he glanced back over his shoulder, gesturing with his head to hurry the fuck up.
“And besides,” Michael was muttering under his breath. “It’s not like you’ve never ridden anything else before.”
Gavin swallowed around a squeak, feeling himself flush down his neck. He whipped his head around and was relieved to find Geoff and Ray still chatting a ways away.
“Michael,” he hissed when he turned back to the king, who was giggling to himself.
In reality, Gavin’s tryst with the king was probably one of the worst kept secrets in Achievement City. Both of their less-than-subtle natures, a staff Michael liked to keep closer than most, and Michael’s obvious favor of Gavin didn’t work to keep it very quiet, but as far as he knew, there wasn’t anyone who truly knew what was going on between the two of them, although he knew some were suspicious.
He followed Michael to the peak of the hill, taking in the landscape billowing out in front of him.
The Ruby Kingdom was very close now, only a few miles from the bottom of the valley.
It had been a few days’ journey to get to this point, and Gavin was very much looking forward to having a bed to sleep on tonight.
The four of them started down the hill, and Gavin rolled his shoulders backward, feeling them pop.
“It’s nice to know we’re going to a kingdom with peaceful intentions for once,” he commented, grinning. “Predicts a lot lower chance of people running at us with swords.”
“It is a fuckin’ nice change of pace,” Geoff grunted, a note of exasperation in his voice.
“So this is your old place, Geoff?” Ray asked, leaning fully onto the back of his horse’s neck. Charlie, ever the nonchalant, didn’t seem to notice or care.
“Hell yeah, dude,” Geoff replied. “I was molded to raise it into the best kingdom in all the land, but now I’m too old.”
“You’re forty, Geoff,” Gavin deadpanned.
“That’s fuckin’ old, dude!” Geoff whined. “Also, being royalty sucks. Having to, like, listen to people all day.”
“Which is why you became an advisor to another king,” Ray deadpanned. “Where you listen to people. All day.”
“You think this fucker actually advises me?” Michael griped. “He’s done nothing but drink my rum and sit around since the day you came on.”
“Nuh-uh! I gave you that tip on the best steak in the village once.”
“You did do that,” Michael conceded, shrugging his shoulders.
“So you just left?” Gavin asked. “Left the kingdom in pure anarchy?” “Nah, my mom would’ve wrung my neck. I passed the throne over to a trusted friend I’d been sort of training in private.”
Gavin sat with that, letting it roll around in his head. Geoff had been like a father to him since he’d found him in the woods and brought him back to Michael’s castle. He’d been feral then, could barely speak a lick of any human language, let alone English.
(He was fluent now, thankfully, although he had a tendency to make up his own words and had, what Michael called, “a stupid accent.”)
Geoff had always been very laid-back and slightly unpredictable with what he did in his free time. He’d once nearly died because he’d dared himself to eat dragon brains, so Gavin had a hard time imagining Geoff being in any kind of major leadership role, let alone grooming an eager, young charge into an heir.
But from what he knew about the queen (which was just what people from Michael’s kingdom had told him,) she was doing a pretty decent job.
Still, Gavin was very wary of coming to visit her kingdom. This was quite literally the first time Michael had ever seriously considered allying himself with anyone. Michael was of the strong (and frankly, correct) opinion that his kingdom was powerful enough on its own, so it was extremely surprising when Michael came to him about a month ago and let him know that they’d be traveling to the Ruby Kingdom to negotiate an alliance with their queen.
Once at the bottom of the hill, they sped up to a galloping clip. Gavin looked over to Michael, noticing the slight tension between his shoulders. Anyone else would probably guess he was on edge, on the defensive before they even got there, but Gavin clearly noticed the dimple in his cheek, the nearly invisible smile crossing his lips. Michael was excited.
They were only a few hundred feet away when Gavin started to take in the sprawling castle in front of them. It was huge, around the same size as Michael’s, with dozens of towers and spires. Huge tapestries hung over the front walls and flags were hoisted over the towers, blazing reds and golds visible from even miles away.
As they got closer, he noticed a huge, crowing phoenix emblazoned into the front of the banner, wings outspread and talons bared.
In front of the castle, a red dot was starting to come into focus, mounted upon a large white mare. Behind them stood a long line of soldiers, at attention on their own steeds.
Gavin was instantly on edge, heat bubbling under his skin. There was no reason for the Ruby Queen to have half an army waiting for them if they were just hear to discuss an alliance. He swallowed, breathing black smoke out of his nose before digging his heel into Lloyd’s side, putting himself between Michael and the queen and her army, eyes narrowed.
His hand was reaching towards his bow when he felt a hand on his shoulder. When returned around, Michael was at his side, shaking his head. His mouth was a thin line, stern, but his eyes were soft, as if to say “Thanks, but I have this under control.”
Without a word, he rounded Gavin and Lloyd, trotting a few feet ahead of their group before, much to Gavin’s alarm, he dismounted his horse.
“Mi- Your Majesty,” Gavin warned, trying not to flush for having forgot the honorific.
Michael ignored him, walking forward from his horse towards the queen, who was watching him over her nose before guiding her mare forward.
As she drew closer, Gavin got his first good look at her. She was beautiful. She had pale skin and delicate, round features, framed by fiery red hair that fell in waves around her shoulders. Gavin could tell she was short, smaller than him, but her presence seemed to contradict that completely.
In a deep red, low-cut gown accented with gold, and a cape the color of crushed rubies, she was impossibly regal and elegant, yet emanated power.
For whatever reason, Geoff and Ray didn’t seem any sort of concerned about the way their king was approaching another royal, with whom their alliance was still dubious, unarmed and on foot. In fact, they both seemed to be smiling.
They were only a few feet apart when the Ruby Queen pulled back on her reins, guiding her horse to a halt. She swung one leg over the horse’s back and hopped down. They stood face-to-face, watching each other and Gavin held his breath, waiting for one of them to move.
He jumped at the sound of metal clanging against the ground; a sheath, he realized, which must have been slung around her waist.
Before he could even fully contemplate what that meant, the queen had broken into a sprint. Straight towards Michael. Who had planted his feet and opened his arms to her, leaving him completely vulnerable.
Gavin was about to move, to block him or to stop her or something, but before he could spur Lloyd forward, the queen had launched herself at Michael and there was screaming.
Not pained, “just-stabbed-in-the-colon”-type screaming, though, which was what Gavin had expected and had his blood rushing in his ears. High, giddy squeals laced with laughter as Michael pulled her into his arms, lifting her off of the ground and spinning her around in a circle.
“I… Guess this alliance will be easier to negotiate than I thought,” he heard his mouth saying, unbidden, because his brain sure as fuck wasn’t caught up with what was going on. He heard Geoff and Ray respond in turn, cracking jokes and snickering behind him, but it didn’t really register. He was watching his king and the queen, studying them.
He hadn’t really ever seen Michael like this before. Sure, he’d seen Michael happy before, even without being as close as the two were. His infamous rage was more an act for adversaries and other kingdoms, a way of asserting dominance, and overall, he was a rather laid-back person.
But there was a distinct difference between the Michael he knew; who hoisted the head of a slain Enderdragon over his head in one hand and his diamond sword in the other, roaring triumphantly, who wrestled him on the floor on his throne room, locking his arms behind his head, shouting “Say uncle! Say uncle!”
This Michael was gentle, strangely so as he let the queen down to her feet. Once she was back on the ground, he threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her close, kissing her twice; once on the forehead and once on the lips.
“Oh, okay,” Gavin’s mouth said.
He didn’t move and once Ray and Geoff started down the hill themselves, and Gavin followed them, a few feet behind, hesitant.
A kiss didn’t mean anything really. Kisses were a sign of respect or a hello across the kingdom, but it was usually on the hand, in greeting. They weren’t in a different province than Michael’s kingdom, and kingdoms in the same province tended to have similar mannerisms and traditions but. Maybe the Ruby Kingdom was different? Maybe?
At the bottom of the hill, Geoff was already off his horse and pulling the queen into a huge bear hug, rocking her around and pulling more high, booming laughter out of her. But no kiss.
It was around the time the queen hugged Ray, both of them holding each other tightly, like an old friend they hadn’t seen in a long time (but no kisses), that Gavin was starting to get annoyed. He felt horribly out of place, just sliding off of his horse and standing off to the side as the hello’s continued. Was he the only one who didn’t know the Ruby Queen? And if so, why had they even bothered to bring him?
After a moment, the queen’s eyes, green like emeralds, nearly glowing against the deep reds of her dress, fell onto him. He felt himself growing warm under her gaze, realizing he’d completely forgotten the etiquette Geoff (and then Jack, when Geoff got lazy) had arduously taught him.
He rounded the horses quickly, taking long strides until he was standing in front of the red-haired woman, in the middle of the circle around her created by Michael and his men, before dropping to one knee, holding out a hand to her.
“It’s a honor to meet you, Your Majesty,” he said, enunciating soundly (“It’s important to acknowledge their title but also sort of announce it to anyone who might be listening nearby,” Jack had told him. “That’s why you talk a little bit loud. Strokes their ego.”)
He felt a hand, soft and warm, in his, and he brought it to his lips to kiss lightly (“Lightly. Mouth closed, no spit, which is a good rule of thumb for many situations.”) “I am Sir Gavin Free, of Achiev-hrk!”
He stuttered as his arm was suddenly yanked forward, forcing him to steady himself on both feet to avoid face-planting into the dirt.
He glanced up at the queen, who was still holding his hand and grinning widely at him.
“You have the most adorable accent!” she cried.
“Th-Thank you, Your Highness,” he mumbled, taken aback. Whenever someone commented on his accent, it wasn’t usually so kind. “I-“
Once again, he was stopped mid-sentence, watching in shock as the queen, still holding tight to his hand, lifted it and brought it to her own lips. He had to bite the inside of his bottom lip to keep his mouth from dropping open. There had been nothing about this in any of his lessons, he was sure of that.
“M-Madam, I-… I am Sir Gavin Free of… you don’t have to-“
If she heard him, she didn’t show it, letting their hands drop between them (still not letting go,) smiling warmly. He swallowed, trying not to stare at the imprint of dark red lips now tattooed on the back of his hand.
“So this is the creeper-kin you told me so much about,” the queen said, talking apparently to Michael, who Gavin could see smirking out of the corner of his eye. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Sir Free.”
Oh boy.
“I, um…” he grunted, brain suddenly blank of all of his training, even though he was pretty sure there wasn’t any for him to refer to.
“Linds, come on, you’re scaring him,” Michael said, speaking for the first time since Gavin had walked over, a devious smirk on his face. His eyes darted to Gavin, that hooded look he’d seen many times before that now just turned his blood to ice. “He’s got nothing but gunpowder between his ears.”
“Oi,” he said, faintly, brain trying to switch back to his usual banter with Michael but body not quite following through.
“The poor fucker,” he thought he heard Geoff mutter, as he walked by with the reins to Mystery and Lloyd in his hands. When he spoke again, it was louder, meant to be heard by the three of them. “You kids catch up. Ray and I will take the horses to the stable.”
“You remember how to get there, old man?” the queen spoke, nose turned up, teasing.
“Oh, so cute, this one,” Geoff replied, rolling his eyes but an unmistakable affection in the twitch of his lips. “What a card.”
Gavin felt Ray’s hand on his shoulder, a squeeze before he’d taken the Charlie’s reins, which he’d been levitating, and following Geoff.
Not a single thing has happened since they’ve arrived that set any part of his mind at ease, he noticed, frowning.
“Gav, if you’re done staring off into space,” Michael’s voice snapped him out of his reverie and he turned to the two of them, noticing that the queen had finally let go of his hand and was entwining her fingers with Michael’s. He looked back up from there to Michael’s face.
“Since the other two already know her, I figured you’re the only one who needs the formal introduction,” he said. “May I present to you, Her Majesty the Queen Lindsay Tuggey of the Ruby Kingdom.” As Michael rattled off the title, Gavin’s gaze fell back to their entwined hands, and the iridescent black ring on her fourth finger.
A ring identical to Michael’s, the ring he wore every second of every day. The ring Michael had spent many nights dragging down Gavin’s sides, the cool metal contrasting their warm skin pressed against one another.
“My wife.”
~ ~ ~
Gavin was silent the entire walk to the castle, trailing behind the king and queen, eyes glued to their hands, intertwined and swinging between them as they went.
Lindsay was pointing odds and ends of her kingdom out to Gavin, and every time she turned around to see his reaction, he forced a smile or a laugh or a sound that let her believe he was interested.
Michael interjected frequently, sometimes adding a detail or two to Lindsay’s explanations but more often teasing her, wrinkling his nose and letting his dimple out on full display, as if he hadn’t completely destroyed the ground under Gavin’s entire world just seconds ago.
“So this is the front door,” Lindsay intoned, spreading her arms wide, her five feet dwarfed by the immensity of the forty-foot golden doors at the front of the castle.
“Idiot,” Michael spat, lovingly, and Gavin felt suddenly like he was going to be ill.
“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty-“
“Lindsay,” the queen interrupted him, smiling. He looked back at her, bewildered. She chuckled. “Friends of Michael’s call me Lindsay.”
“I…” he paused, completely lost, feeling more and more like this was some sort of dream. “I’m not feeling very well, would it be all right if I rested for a while?”
“Awww, is little Grabby tired?” Michael sneered, laughing, and for the first time, his ribbing didn’t feel good-natured. It felt like derision, cold and cruel mocking.
“Knackered,” he said through his teeth, trying to keep either bile or sharp words off of his tongue.
“Oh, of course!” Lindsay said, already moving across the room to a rope, a high tinkling (not unlike Lindsay’s laugh, Gavin’s brain noted for him) ringing out when she tugged on it. “You’ve been traveling for days, you must be exhausted. I’ll have someone show you your chambers right away.”
It was an awkward few seconds (if only for Gavin) while they waited for someone to appear, and when they did, Gavin was sure he wasn’t lucid. A ludicrously muscular blonde man stood in the doorway, in little except for loose-fitting brown pants and work boots.
“Oh my fucking God,” Michael crowed, laughing suddenly, doubled over.
The blonde man looked understandably bashful, crossing the hall to where Lindsay stood. His back muscles rippled as he stood at attention, saluting her.
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” he said. “King Michael, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Same to you,” Michael coughed out through peals of laughter.
“Hello, Blaine,” Lindsay greeted. “Are the chambers prepared for our guests as I requested?”
“Yes, milady,” he replied.
“Excellent!” she said, clapping her hands. “Would you please bring Sir Free to his room?” “Of course,” Blaine nodded, turning to Gavin. “Please follow me, sir.”
Gavin did, eagerly, lips tight as he went.
“I hope you feel better!” Lindsay called after him. “If you need anything, just holler for Blaine!”
He felt his shoulders tighten, because she was lovely and kind and she had no idea who he was. He yelled his thanks over his shoulder before following the muscular man through the castle.
He was barely out of the room before he heard their voices again, teasing and laughing and he could probably die right now and wouldn’t mind.
He had been led down at least a dozen hallways and up three flights of stairs before Gavin felt the need to finally speak up.
“So. Is it warm where you-… Do you work in the kitchen or…?”
“These are the uniforms Her Majesty requested for the summertime,” Blaine said, a smile evident in his voice. “It’s… kinda weird, sure, but you get used to it.”
“Oh,” Gavin said, as if he was any less confused by that explanation. It was a shame he was in the middle of an existential crisis about his personal life, otherwise he would’ve spent their walk enjoying the view.
“Her Majesty requested you got a special room in the wing that her chambers is in,” Blaine said. Gavin wasn’t able to decipher what that could possibly mean before they turned the corner into a noticeably more decorated corridor.
The walls were lined with portraits, with frames as large as a tapestry or as small as a pressure plate. There was no rhyme or reason to how the pictures were aligned on the wall, and every single one of them was of a cat.
“Queen Lindsay is a… feline enthusiast,” Blaine imparted. “My friend Aaron and I tried to count all the cats she keeps around here, but lost count at three dozen.”
As if on cue, a tiny Siamese cat excited the room at the end of the hall, with bright blue eyes trained on Gavin.
“Ah, here’s one now,” Blaine said, stooping down to rub the cat under the chin. “I remember this one’s name because he actually likes me. This is Smee.”
“Um. Hello, Smee,” Gavin mumbled. The cat, recognizing its name, turned to him, eyeing him with interest. Not unlike the queen herself had.
As they continued their journey, Smee followed at his heels, apparently endlessly curious about him.
“This will be your room,” Blaine said, opening the door to an enormous room.
Michael took good care of him at his castle, giving him a large room close to the archery range, but this was another level.
The walls were adorned with green, gold, and obsidian accents, with two large bookshelves flanking a door on the adjacent wall from where they were standing, presumably the bathroom. The window across from the door showed a breathtaking view of the plains behind Lindsay’s castle, and the mountains that they’d just come from.
In the very center of the room was a comically enormous bed, the green duvet emblazoned with the same phoenix design from the front tapestries in gold thread. It looked heavenly and Gavin needed to dive headfirst into it right now.
“Is that all you’ll be needing, Sir Free?” he nearly jumped, having completely forgotten Blaine was there.
“Uh, yeah, that’s. Thanks,” he said, before hearing a soft purring and feeling something brushing against his leg. “Can. Actually, um. Can the cat stay here?”
Blaine smirked. “Yes, sir.”
“Okay, that’s. Yeah, I’m good,” he said. He waited for the door to close before whipping around and catapulting himself onto the bed. It felt like what Gavin imagined lying on forty sheep must feel like. Or a cloud. Or both. Cloud sheep. Sheep clouds.
“I am so fucked up,” Gavin told himself, not moving when Smee the Cat jumped up onto the bed next to him and curled himself into a ball in the center of his back.
Now that he was with himself (and also Smee,) his mind had no choice but to work with the information he’d gathered today.
Michael was married.
King Michael, the Dreaded Mogar, Slayer of Kings, was married. Stupidly, happily so.
And for the past year and a half, Gavin had been sleeping with Michael. Married Michael. Stupidly, happily married Michael.
Not only that, but he’d kinda sorta been under the impression that it was more than just sleeping together. With stupid, happy married King Michael.
This was bad. This was really, really bad. Hurt feelings aside, people who were married were not supposed to fool around outside of their marriage.
Doing shit like that got you names like “Michael the Adulterer” or “Mogar the Unfaithful.”
Or “the Late Gavin Free.”
He leaned onto his side slightly, giving Smee enough time to move before rolling over onto his back. He mewled in annoyance before padding over and smashing his face into his, then laying down again.
But it wasn’t like he’d been doing this alone. Michael was the one who’d approached him.
It took Gavin a bit to get a handle on a lot of things in his etiquette lessons, but he’d been able to grasp “Don’t fuck the King” pretty quickly.
Despite that, he’d had feelings and cravings and when Michael came to him, he’d felt it was sort of okay to act upon them.
Why hadn’t he suspected Michael was married? He was handsome, obviously, and powerful, it wouldn’t be surprising to find out a man like Michael on the street was taken.
But it wasn’t delusional for him to assume someone wasn’t attached when they came to the archery range to visit you, made fun of you for a while, and then kissed you until you nearly, literally suffocated.
Gavin might be a little bit spacey but that wasn’t too out there to assume, right?
So now Gavin was here, in the castle of Michael’s wife, his wife who had handsome, shirtless subjects who could actually snap him in half by her whim and one of the most powerful armies that he knew of (and he knew a lot of them.) His beautiful wife who was kind and funny and didn’t deserve what he had unwittingly done to her.
And what about Michael? Did he not even care? How could someone come to his wife’s castle and kiss her and take her hand like nothing had happened? And how the fuck could he have brought Gavin, who he had cheated on his wife with?
Gavin didn’t realize how angry he’d gotten until he noticed he was leaking black smoke out of his nostrils and the corners of his mouth, and the room’s ceiling was nearly covered in it.
“Shit,” he hissed, another poof of smoke leaving his mouth as he stood up and ran to the window, throwing it open and letting the smoke trail out.
He walked to the door, opening it and nearly smacking someone with it.
“Oh! Oh, lord, I’m sorry,” he muttered, covering his mouth with his hand as to not blow smoke directly into the person’s face. “Oh, no, don’t worry about it!” the voice said and suddenly the smoke had cleared. As if he had blinked, the smoke was there and then completely gone.
In its place stood a woman, a few inches shorter than him and with shocking turquoise hair.
“There we go,” she said, letting her arms fall to her sides and a wide smile cross her face.
That smile sent Gavin’s heart thundering in his chest and honestly, could he please just actually have a heart attack already and put him out of his misery?
She was ethereally gorgeous. Huge, doe-like brown eyes and sweet, cupid’s bow lips stretched over a blinding smile. She wore a tight-fitting sapphire gown that hugged her curves perfectly, with wide, billowing sleeves. Sheets of blue mesh were clipped around her shoulders and fell around her like a veil of mist.
“Everything okay? I know I’ve gotten distracted while making tea before, but this was a little much,” she was saying, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Oh, no, I. I’m creeper-kin,” he told her, shocking even himself, considering he didn’t tend to divulge that unless Michael gave him the okay. Not because it was an order, but because not everyone reacted kindly to that information.
The woman, in response, just raised her eyebrows, grinning wider and eyes lighting up with something like understanding. “Wow. That is fascinating.”
“I. Um. So I just.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything,” she said. “And I won’t tell anybody.”
“You- Okay,” he said, because he was tired and grossed out and kinda wanted to die, so he was just gonna nod and smile until this pretty girl was gone.
“Anyway, sorry for bothering you,” she cooed. “I just wanted to make sure someone wasn’t burning Lindsay’s house down.”
“No, no, I. Can’t make fire,” he trailed off, immediately feeling stupid.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” she said. “I’ll leave you alone now. See you around, creeper boy.” With that, she turned on her heel and glided down the hall, like a mirage. Gavin watched her go, her swinging hips and fluttering hair. He felt Smee rub against his legs and he glanced down at him. He bent down to scoop him up and when he glanced down the hall again, the blue-haired woman was gone.
“Smee, absolutely nothing today has given me any indication that I’m actually alive and not dreaming,” he told him, nodding in agreement when he bopped him on the cheek with his tiny paw.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he muttered, bringing Smee over to the bed and laying down with him on his chest. “I am going to lie here and sleep until I either turn into a cat like you or fade into a pile of dust. Sound good?”
Smee was already asleep.
~ ~ ~
When Gavin woke up, it was to a light knocking on his chamber door.
“Sir, the cooks are serving dinner in the main hall,” a voice told him through the door. “The queen requests your presence but if you’d rather rest more, she can have us send dinner up.”
Gavin sat up blearily, blinking at the door. He didn’t know what time it was, but the room was cast in an amber light from the setting sun.
He could have the food brought to his room. He could very easily not leave this stupid room for the duration of their stay.
But then Geoff would ask questions, Michael might ask questions, and as much as he didn’t want to see Michael right now, at least dinner didn’t require he speak to him.
He hadn’t realized that he hadn’t yet responded until there was another knock at the door.
“Sir Free? Are you awake?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m up. I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Very good, sir,” the voice replied, followed by the sounds of footsteps retreating from his door.
Gavin stood up, leaning forward and back, side-to-side, letting his vertebrae pop. He was still sore from the few nights prior of sleeping on the ground, but just a few hours in Lindsay’s sheep-cloud bed had done wonders for his muscles.
He padded into the bathroom attached to the room. There was an enormous, marble clawfoot tub with gold feet, and an entire wardrobe filled with different vials and flasks of what he assumed was oils and scents. A mirror was hung on the opposite wall and the second he caught his reflection, he grimaced.
His hair was wild and untamed, even more so than usual, and he looked, despite his nap, like he hadn’t slept in days. He forced a smile, testing himself for when someone inevitably asked why he looked like he’d come back from the dead.
“Now I look like an undead person who has severe intestinal distress,” he said, to no one in particular; maybe Smee, who he felt marching around on his feet as if to remind him he was here.
“I can still bow out, right?” he asked her, looking down into her icy eyes. She twitched her whiskers at him as his stomach growled loudly enough to shake his insides. “Damn.”
~ ~ ~
He had taken his sweet time making his way down to the main hall, which was made a great deal easier considering how lost he kept finding himself. He found himself hoping he’d see the blue-haired woman again every time he turned the corner, if not to navigate, to just chat as he slowly starved to death in his lover’s wife’s castle.
Smee had taken an even greater liking to him than he thought, spending the entire walk perched on his shoulder, a spot he’d chosen himself. Every so often, he’d feel a bop of tiny, leathery pads against his ear whenever he turned into another dead end.
When he finally, finally found the dining hall, dinner had already started. The table was enormous; Lindsay apparently dined with all of her subjects together, which instantly endeared Gavin to her despite everything. He let his eyes drag over the heads bent over the table, but caught no sight of the blue-haired girl.
Maybe she had been a mirage.
His entrance drew several pairs of eyes to him, including Michael’s, who was sitting at the head of the table with Lindsay.
“Well, there he fuckin’ is,” he announced, throwing a hand out in his direction in exasperation. “Did you get lost on your way here?”
“Yes,” he said, tightly, before walking around the table to an open space between Ray and Geoff, ignoring the spot next to Michael that, in almost every other occasion, both at home and in other kingdoms, was reserved for him. Michael noticed, raising his eyebrows at him.
“I see you’ve made a friend,” Lindsay chimed up, apparently missing the tension between the two of them. He blinked at her, at once remembering the tiny Siamese on his shoulder.
“Oh, I’m sorry, milady,” he said, reaching up to pluck Smee off his shoulders, much to his dismay, but Lindsay shook her head.
“Please, cats are more welcome at this table than people,” she laughed, waving her hand. “It’s unusual that Smee takes a liking to strangers. He tends to stick by me when there are visitors.”
She paused, eyeing him up and down. “He must really like you.”
Gavin had literally no idea how to respond to that, because it felt like her words held more weight than he cared to examine at the moment.
“I quite like him as well,” he said, trying for a light smile that had apparently been believable. “He’s lovely.”
Lindsay beamed at him. “Well, I’m glad you seem to be feeling better. I’ll have someone prepare a plate for you.”
He nodded and the background noise of conversation began again.
“So where ya been, buddy?” Geoff asked him, slapping his back with one hand and holding a goblet in his other, taking a swig. “Ray and I raided my old liquor cellar!”
“He made me try a sip of his spiced peach rum,” Ray spoke up. “I’m probably drunk now.”
“Just really tired, you know?” he mumbled.
“Aww, Grabbers needed a nap,” Geoff chortled, but the look he found the older man giving him out of the corner of his eye meant he knew there was something more than that. Usually when they arrived at new places, Gavin was bouncing off the wall and he would have shown his new cat friend to everyone he could find.
“Yeah, just tuckered out really quick, I guess,” he said, then added, as an apology/distraction from himself, “Feel like giving me the grand tour tomorrow?”
Geoff was quiet for a beat, then broke out into a smile. “Sure, buddy, if you don’t feel too ‘knackered’.” He put on a horrible imitation of Gavin’s accent, descending into senseless gibberish before lifting the goblet to his mouth again.
Someone slid a plate in front of him, piled high with mutton and vegetables, slathered in sauces and gravy.
He tucked into his food, trying incredibly hard to avoid letting his eyes wander to Michael and his wife. He heard him talking, cracking jokes and laughing, not just to Lindsay but to other people t the table, who he’d seemingly met before.
He must know people from this kingdom, Gavin figured. He was married to the queen, after all.
He must’ve visited a million times, Gavin thought to himself. To get to know her and to see her. Has he visited her since he’s known me? Since our thing started? They obviously haven’t seen each other in a while, but. How did I miss this?
“Gav,” he heard Michael’s voice, startling him out of his own head. “Schmitty is eating your mutton.”
“Smee,” Gavin and Lindsay corrected him at the same time, and several people around the table chuckled. Lindsay grinned at him, winking, but he couldn’t bring himself to return it.
He’d seen a lot of similarities between himself and Lindsay since they’d met. They were similar in attitude and mannerisms, and perhaps worst of all, Michael treated them very much the same.
Normally, someone with whom he had a lot in common became an instant best friend, but this. This only made him feel sick. Like he was some kind of replacement while he was away from her.
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter, the fuckin’ cat’s eating his dinner!” Michael ranted, pointing at Gavin’s plate and reaching past Geoff to swat the cat away. Smee hissed at him, batting at his fingers and then jumping back into Gavin’s lap, out of reach.
“Don’t smack at him!” Gavin snapped, maybe too quickly and with too much force, squishing Smee against him.
“All right, dude, relax,” Michael said, putting his hands up defensively. “Enjoy your cat-flavored food.”
“So, Gavin,” Lindsay called him, leaning forward on the table, chin resting on her hand. “Michael told me you’ve only been part of his ranks for a few years. Where are you from?”
“The forest,” Gavin responded immediately, swirling his potatoes around on his plate, eyes down.
“Gav,” Ray grunted under his breath, elbowing him in the side.
“I already told you this shit, Linds,” Michael was saying. “What do I even write you for?”
“Well, I want to get to know him face to face, too! It’ll be weird if I meet him for the first time already knowing everything about him,” she griped back, before stopping, turning to Gavin. “Which I don’t, by the way. Know everything. Just basics.”
Was this not weird already? Gavin asked himself.
“I’m afraid besides the obvious, there isn’t much to know,” Gavin hummed.
“Oh, come on,” Lindsay goaded, smiling. “Michael never shuts up about you.”
Gavin felt sweat bead along his hairline. What did she know? How could Michael throw him into this without even letting him know? Did he just expect him to know not to say anything?
“To be fair, most of it is how he’s annoying me,” Michael was saying, snickering. “That captures a lot of the essence of the Gavin Free experience.”
“Well, I’m glad there’s someone who’s making him tear his hair out while we’re apart. It’s good that he has one of us at all times,” Lindsay said, and it was meant to be sweet and teasing and like she and him had a cute, little joke between the two of them, but something about what she was saying, the honesty of her statement that she didn’t even realize, made him want to sink into the floor and keep going until he hit the Earth’s core.
“Speaking of,” Lindsay said, turning to Michael, who raised his eyebrows at her.
“Now?” he asked, voice lower, quieter, just to her.
“Sure,” she shrugged. “It’s as good a time as any.”
“Okay,” he replied, standing up and reaching out his hand to Lindsay, who took it and stood up as well. Most of the voices trailed off as they stood, noticing the couple standing up, but Lindsay still called out in a loud, ringing voice, “May I have everyone’s attention, please?”
Gavin watched the two of them, jaw tight. “As many of you may know, King Michael has come to call at our castle to negotiate an alliance between his kingdom and ours. I’m afraid, that’s not entirely true.”
There were murmurs around the hall, though the loudest was Ray going “What the fuck?” in his ear.
“I hate that I had to keep this from you all, because I hate to do that,” she continued, “but we wanted to see how things went in a trial period before coming out with what was going on.
“King Michael and I combined the kingdoms almost a year ago now,” she said, drawing exclamations of shock from the crowd. Michael held up a hand and the room fell silent again, but Gavin was already lost to it all.
Michael hadn’t told him that. Michael hadn’t told him anything like that.
He didn’t tell me he was married, either, Gavin realized, swallowing around a lump in his throat. Michael never told me anything.
Gavin felt smoke feeling his lungs, making them shrink and crumple.
Michael had never cared. He had never cared. Gavin had spent all this time believing that he was someone Michael trusted more than almost anyone and wanted to know these things. But he wasn’t. He was just a warm body that was nearby and bent to his every whim.
He felt pins pricking at the backs of his eyes as he tuned back into Michael’s voice.
“…we will be announcing the merging of the kingdoms as soon as possible and I will be joining Lindsay at her home here in the Ruby Kingdom.”
Gavin was on his feet before his brain could even tell send the signals down his body, but no one noticed; everyone had already begun to stand up, approaching the royal couple with congratulations and praise for their cunning, romantic plan. A secret romance, a powerful partnership.
Gavin turned heel and marched in the opposite direction, walking at a steady pace until he turned the corner out of the dining hall. Then he was tearing down the hall, heat bubbling under every inch of his skin. He opened his mouth to inhale and a low hissing emanated through the room. He snapped his mouth shut, covering his mouth as he continued to run.
It was by some sort of miracle that he’d found himself back in his chambers, having run blindly with no regard for his surroundings. He slammed the door behind him, leaning against it and pressing his fists against his eyes, willing the tears to go away.
So that was it. He’d lost Michael in every sense of the word.
Before, when Michael had introduced Lindsay to him as his wife, a part of Gavin, a dark, selfish part, had thought that this would be okay. Sure, Lindsay was here, she existed, but he would still have Michael in his own castle, far away from beautiful, sweet, kind Lindsay.
He would feel disgusting, he would hate himself, but quite honestly, he would probably rather that than not have Michael at all.
But now Michael was leaving him, dropping him on his ass in his abandoned castle, to live and rule with his wife.
He slid down the door, exhaling when his ass hit the hard, stone floor.
“I’m going to leave,” he said, out loud, fists putting dents in his eyelids and wrists muffling his words.
“Why?” a familiar voice asked, and his head snapped up, eyes darting around the room. He didn’t see anything at first, but after a moment, a figure stepped into the center of the room from a dark corner. It was the blue-haired woman, or at least he thought it was, because now, he could’ve sworn her hair and her robes were the color of amethysts. The moonlight and his emotions must be playing tricks on him.
“How the fuck- When did you get in here?” he yelped, scrambling to move away from her but just smacking the back of his head into the door.
“Why are you leaving?” she asked, arms crossed over her chest, her eyes (which shone like honey now, even without the light hitting them) shimmering with curiosity and genuine concern.
“I… I can’t do it,” he said, surely raising more questions than answers, but she didn’t press him.
“Are you going home?” she said, walking towards him and offering him a hand. He stared at it, unsure why he wasn’t more alarmed by this strange, gorgeous woman who’d just appeared in his room, but took it and let her help him up.
They sat on the bed, side-by-side.
“No,” he sighed, looking down at his tangled fingers. “I’m not.”
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but there.”
“Why?”
“Why do you even care?” Gavin snapped, suddenly, eyes narrowed at her. This was the first time, he realized, that he’d actually let his emotions explode out of him like they’ve been trying to since Michael jumped off of his horse this morning. “How did you even get in here? Who are you?”
She didn’t speak for a few beats, then, calmly. “Meg.”
“What?”
“I’m Meg,” she said. “Who are you?”
“Gavin.”
“Okay, Gavin,” said Meg. “Why can’t you go home?
“Because I’m not even sure I have a home,” he griped. “Michael’s staying here, so I don’t know what’s going to happen to all of us who live there. And even if we can stay there, it’ll feel gross without Michael.”
“You seem close with the king,” she said, smirkingly, like she was making fun of him.
“Okay, great, so did you stop by just to mock me?” he hollered, standing up suddenly. “I don’t even know if you’re real, which honestly, it wouldn’t be surprising, considering my head’s been through the damn wringer all day.”
Meg didn’t seem surprised by his outburst, just sat quietly with her hands folding pristinely on her knee as he ranted.
“Yeah, I’m close with the king, okay? I’ve spent the last damn year and a half fucking him, kinda maybe thinking we had a thing, like a romantic thing? And then I come here and he drops that not only does he know the person we’re coming to see, he’s married to her?
“And he looks at her like she’s every damn star in the sky and I’m just some hole that was dumb enough to believe he gave a shit about me.”
He was breathing heavily, smoke billowing out of his nose again, by the time he finished and collapsed back onto the bed, hands over his face.
“That doesn’t sound like your fault,” Meg told him.
“It’s my fault that I don’t care,” Gavin whispered against his hands. “It’s my fault I still want him.”
“Is it?”
“Who gives a shit?” he cried, dropping his hands by his side. “I still do, and now he’s leaving and he’s married and I’m… I’m nothing. I’m left with nothing.”
Meg was silent for a few minutes, long enough that Gavin turned to look at him to make sure she was actually there. “So? Have anything cute to comment now? Or am I pathetic enough on my own?” If she was just a figment of his imagination, he was sure as hell going to unload everything he had onto her, just because it was destroying him from the inside out to keep to himself.
She waited another second, then spoke. “I think you’re missing something here. I don’t know what, but I don’t think you fully understand everything.”
“How could you know that? You don’t even know me!”
“You’re right,” Meg said. “I don’t. That’s why I’m sort of sad you’re leaving.” She looked up, her chocolate eyes warm and sincere. “I would’ve like to know more about you, creeper-kin.”
Gavin stared at her for a few seconds. She really was beautiful. “I would’ve liked that too. But I really can’t stay here.”
“I understand,” Meg said, standing up and taking his hand.
For all the whirlwinds Gavin had been through today, he found himself incredibly thankful that he’d met her. She snapped her fingers and every candlestick in the room suddenly illuminated with a small flame. He whipped his head around, eyes wide, before turning back to Meg, who was smirking.
“If only you could stick around, then I’d tell you,” she teased again, though this time, it definitely felt like a ploy to try and get him to stay.
You could come with me, his brain said.
“You could come with me,” his lips parroted.
She chuckled, eyes glittering. “As much fun as gallivanting aimlessly across the countryside with you sounds, I’m afraid I’m needed here.” She stood up on her tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Write me, though, if you can. I’d love to hear about all of your adventures.”
She stepped back from him then, heading towards the door. “I won’t tell anyone that I saw you go,” she said, quietly, as she opened the door. “Hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Me, too,” he murmured, heart creaking in his chest. He didn’t know anything about her, had barely met her, but he was almost devastated to say goodbye to her.
She was almost out the door when he hissed, “Wait!”
Meg turned around, eyebrows raised.
“Can you actually.. there is someone I want you to apologize to for me. The tired-looking one, with the mustache, and the mage in the top hat? Can you please tell them I’m sorry?”
Her face didn’t change, but she nodded. “Sure.”
“Okay. Okay, thanks,” he said. “Goodbye, Meg.”
She smiled, that lopsided, mischievous smile. “Goodbye, Sir Gavin Free, of the Creeper-kin.”
She closed the door behind her, and it was just Gavin alone in his room, with Smee in the center of the bed.
~ ~ ~
It was well into the night when Gavin shuffled out of the castle, his saddlebag and all of his belongings slung over his shoulder.
He spotted Lloyd at a far stall in the stables and felt the beginnings of guilt as he noticed the old horse blink awake at his presence.
“Sorry, old boy,” he whispered, hoisting his bag over Lloyd’s back and tying it tightly. “Looks like we’ll have to put off retirement for a little longer.”
He was almost finished securing the reins when he felt muted points scratching dully at his legs. He looked down to find Smee on his hind legs and leaning up on Gavin’s, stretching but also watching him with slitted eyes.
“Oh, come on, now, Smee, don’t do this,” he whined, even as he took the cat under his arms and pressed him, purring, against his face. “You and Meg are practically the only good thing about this place.”
Smee reached up and bopped him on the nose with his little paws. Gavin smiled.
“It was nice meeting you, pal,” he said, giving the cat one last squeeze before setting him down. “If I could take you with me, I would.”
“And here I was fully prepared to watch you steal my cat,” a silky voice spoke just as a maroon slipper stepped into the moonlight, making him jump.
Lindsay stood just a few feet away. She held a hand out and without much preamble, Smee padded over to her and leapt onto her hand, climbing up her arm and balancing himself on her shoulder.
She didn’t ask him anything, or even speak, and he found his mouth flopping open and closed like a fish as he tried to formulate an explanation. It was a few minutes before he finally choked out, “Your Majesty, I-“
“Lindsay,” she corrected again. “Going somewhere?”
“I, um,” he didn’t quite know what to say. He hadn’t yet been alone with Lindsay and now that he was, he felt firsthand the sense of dominion she’d exuded the second he’d seen her.
“Because I noticed you didn’t touch a lot of your food at dinner. If you wanted to get something to eat, there’s no need to go to such lengths. My cooks would be glad to whip something up for you,” she was giving him an out, he knew it, and a wiser man might’ve taken it.
“I’m not… I was hoping for something a bit more permanent than that,” he admitted. “The trip, I mean.”
She nodded in understanding. “Does Michael know?”
“As a matter of fact, he doesn’t, and I wouldn’t mind keeping it that way,” he said, voice getting higher, almost hysterical. “If you don’t mind.”
She shifted her weight from foot to foot, twisting her lips and scratching under Smee’s chin. “You didn’t seem like the type to dessert,” she intoned, like she was thinking out loud. “And it’s an interesting time to choose to do so.”
“Look, I…” he sighed, exasperatedly, cutting himself off before he said something he’d regret to someone who would make him regret it. “I know you’re trying to stall me, or something, make me rethink my grand escape plan. Which I still don’t know how you found out about it, but your kingdom seems to have a special knack for knowing what I’m going to say or do before I do, so.”
“Thank you,” Lindsay said, smirking.
“But it’s… I can’t, like, be here anymore. And I’m sorry to put this on you and this is probably going to ruin Michael’s trip to see you, but you know, it’s not like you won’t have the rest of your damn lives to make up for it, and-“
“Oh, my Gods,” Lindsay said suddenly, expression dropping and hand falling to her side. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Come on,” she sighed, turning on her heel and walking briskly away.
“But, I-“
“Now, would be nice,” she asserted, leaving no room for argument and Gavin found himself, inexplicably, taking his bags off of Lloyd and leaving him back in his stall to follow her.
He followed her, down the many hallways and back into the wing his chambers had been on. Lindsay waited for him to catch up behind her and, without warning, gave the door a mighty kick that sent it crashing against the opposite wall.
There was a bed in the center of the room, not unlike Gavin’s, with a lump in the middle of it, scrabbling around with the sheets at the sudden noise.
“What the fuck?!” Michael roared, reaching for his sword leaning against the nightstand closest to him. There was an empty space on the bed beside him, presumably where Lindsay had been and where Michael was frantically searching for her (Oh, yeah, Gavin’s mind reminded him. They’re married. Of course they sleep together.)
“Put the sword down, numb-nuts, it’s me,” Lindsay called, marching into the room. Gavin was at her heels, frankly too scared of her not to.
“What the hell is wrong with you, woman?!” Michael cried, smacking around for his glasses until he, by some stroke of luck, landed on them and put them on.
“I found your squire out by the stables,” Lindsay said, jamming her thumb over her shoulder towards Gavin and Michael’s eyes fell on him, widening as he noticed for the first time that he was there.
“Well, why the fuck were you out there?” Michael asked, incredulously. “I know I joke that you’re an animal, sometimes, but-“
Lindsay grabbed one of the pillows off of their bed and rocketed it into Michael’s face, who caught it with some difficulty.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“He was leaving, you idiot!”
At that, Michael turned back to him, and Gavin felt himself shrinking under the gaze, annoyed but now concerned.
“In the middle of the night?” he asked, fixing the glasses thrown askew by Lindsay’s attack. “For what? We were going to go back to Achievement City to get your stuff in a few days, did you really need it right now?”
“I- wait, what?”
“Maybe you were too busy being in a fucking bad mood all day for some reason,” Michael grunted, “but in case you missed it, I announced that I’m moving to stay here with Lindsay.”
“What the hell does that have to do with me?” Gavin griped, a headache beginning to pulse behind his temples.
“You’re coming with us, dummy,” Michael said. “What, did you think I was just gonna leave you there in Achievement City? Of course you’re moving in with us.”
A different Gavin in a different circumstance would be atwitter at those words, in fact his heart now was fluttering a bit and he hated it. Hated that he was getting excited at the prospect of living with the man he loved (or something, because that word was scary) and his wife, having to see the two of them happy every day, or even worse, if Michael still expected them to be together.
“I- wha- I wasn’t going back to Achievement City,” Gavin barked, watching as Michael narrowed him eyes at him.
“Then where were you going?” when Gavin didn’t answer, he stood up out of bed, rounding the front of it. “Huh? When were you coming back?” When again met with silence, he got louder, growling. “Were you just gonna leave? What the fuck, Gavin?” “Oh, like you care,” Gavin spat back, suddenly stepping up to Michael. “Like you ever cared.”
“I beg your pardon?” Michael seethed. “No, really. You spend this whole time with a fucking sourpuss, ignoring me and every who isn’t that damn cat, you barely even try to get to know Lindsay, and you’re going to act like I’m the one who doesn’t care? You were going to leave me!”
“Yeah, well,” Gavin laughed through his teeth. “Beat you to it.”
“What are you talking about?” Michael seethed, hands gripping in his hair and Gavin worked to ignore the wild, worried look in Michael’s eyes because even after all of this, he hated to see Michael hurting.
“Michael, you’re married,” Gavin said, throwing his hands out in front of him. “To a beautiful, kind woman and quite honestly, I don’t know how to take that. Especially since you didn’t seem to think it was important to mention to me when we were sleeping together.”
He didn’t quite mean to put it out there like that and potentially ruin this marriage and the alliance, Jesus, he probably just started a war, wow, had he fucked up-
“Wait, so you actually didn’t tell him,” Lindsay spoke up, surprising him, since he expected hands around his neck before anything else.
“Tell me what?” he griped.
“You didn’t think it would be important to mention to him?” Lindsay snapped. “What are you, twelve?”
“Tell me what?”
“I didn’t think it was necessary at the time!” Michael argued back.
“Not even when you were dragging him to meet me for the first time? Are you demented?!”
“TELL ME WHAT?!” Gavin screeched, feeling fire climbing in his throat and letting smoke puff out.
“We’re in an open relationship,” Lindsay said, turning around to look at him. “Or, at least we were.”
“What?”
“An open relationship,” Lindsay summarized. “You know, when the couple lets other-“
“No, no, I know about that, I mean. How did I…? Why did…? ‘Were’?”
“Okay, that’s enough yelling. Both of you, on the bed,” Lindsay demanded and Gavin found himself following her orders immediately, climbing on the disheveled sheets and leaning against the footboard. Michael spent a few more seconds glaring at his wife before following suit.
“Michael and I had another partner before you. He was also a king and we kinda ruled everything together, but he left to pursue greater things,” Lindsay explained, setting herself down on the bed next to Michael. “Luckily, Michael and I loved each other enough to survive it, and we lived just the two of us for a while before we felt we were missing something. This was around the time Geoff offered me the throne and I took it, and I had to go back to the Ruby Kingdom to run it.”
“That was about three months before I met you,” Michael added, softer now, apologetic.
“Michael and I agreed that should we find someone new that we were interested in to kind of report it back to one another and kind of feel the other out. We wanted someone who we knew would stick with us.
“I was back here for a little less than half a year before Michael’s letters started mentioning an archer who’d come to live with them, with sandy hair and a stupid accent,” Lindsay said, smiling and reaching out to take his hand. “He said he couldn’t wait to introduce him to me, because he thought he could be ‘the one’.”
To his right, Michael’s cheeks were crimson and he was pouting, looking past Gavin towards the wall.
“Okay, so like. Why did you not tell me any of this?” Gavin protested, eyeing Michael narrowly. “You didn’t think this was important to let me in on?”
“I was worried it’d scare you off, all right?” Michael snapped, obviously still embarrassed. “I didn’t want to get so attached and then have someone leave again. I meant to tell you, but. I’m a king. I’m busy.”
“Well it’s a good, bloody thing Lindsay caught me then, innit? Because running off was exactly what I was about to do, you twat!” Gavin really wasn’t sure what any of this meant, but he felt cautious rumble of joy about it. He looked back to Lindsay. “So you’re okay with this? That we were… are? Together?”
“Of course not!” she said, with a huge smile, and, without much warning, grabbed him and pulled him into a hug. “I didn’t think Michael would be able to like anyone again after what happened before.”
Gavin hugged her back, looking at Michael over her shoulder.
“So… it wasn’t just sex?”
“Of course not! I don’t go around randomly fucking people who live in my castle. We’re together, you idiot!”
After another moment, Lindsay let him go, sitting back on her heels again. “I hope this isn’t too forward, but I would also love to try and know you better as well. If you’re only interested in Michael, I understand, but I knew I’d like you from what Michael told me, and meeting you in person…” she shook her head, biting her lip and looking him up and down. “You did not disappoint.”
Gavin flushed, ears growing hot under the praise. “I think I’d like that.” He smiled up at her and she beamed right back.
“Great, so now we have that fuckin’ figured out,” Michael grumbled. “Can we go back to sleep now?”
“So you’re not going to take responsibility for any of this?” Gavin snorted. “I’ve been a damn mess all day because of you!”
Michael glared at him, then, suddenly, reached up and pressed a deep, toe-curling kiss on Gavin’s lips. “Not at three in the morning, I’m not. Stay in here tonight, idiot.”
“Oh, this is so exciting!” Lindsay squealed, clapping her hands in excitement. “Oh, this whole day, I thought you just didn’t like me! And in all the excitement, Michael didn’t even get to meet my person today!”
“Wait, wha- Really?” Gavin cried, his brain aching with all this new information, but still lost. “You have a person too?”
“Yes! As a matter of fact, I met her while overseas in the Losangela,” Lindsay said. Her eyes went over Gavin’s shoulders, brightening. “Oh, here she is now!”
Gavin turned around and his jaw dropped.
The blue-haired, purple-haired woman was stepping out of an adjoining room, with a delicate pink negligee that matched her now magenta hair.
“Hello, darling, enjoy your bath?” Lindsay asked, opening her arms to Meg, who sat herself across Lindsay’s lap.
“Absolutely,” Meg replied, kissing Lindsay’s forehead. On the other side of the bed, Michael had turned over and was watching Meg with very, very pointed interest. When she pulled back from Lindsay, Meg turned to Gavin and grinned her Cheshire-Cat grin. “Hello Gavin Creeper-kin. Looks like we’ll get to know each other better after all.”
“I… I need to sleep for twelve hours,” Gavin said, scooting over and plopping face first into the pillows of Lindsay, Michael, Meg, and, apparently, his bed. “You’re all swell, and I quite like you, but I really need to not be alive for a while after today.”
Against the fluffy, silken pillowcase, Gavin let himself exhale and press a smile into the fabric. This could work out after all.