Here comes the boy!
Whenua's turn!
And thanks to @chancetimespace for helping me figure this out, especially with a fun detail
So he's been mining and archiving for a while, having a pretty peaceful life. He knows how to get around places, especially underground. The Earth is like his old friend, at this point.
It should be; the earth is home for dwarves and drows alike, and Whenua is both, being part dwarf and part drow.
He's actually banned in most places and has been arrested for trespassing because he actually has gotten himself into and out of cities via caves and mines underneath said places. And, yes, people don't like an archivist that goes where he isn't allowed or goes where all he wants is to write stuff down and not buy anything.
He's got friends all over, but he's more of someone who only sits still long enough to make sure something is archived in the books and kept preserved until it's on to the next thing.
One of those things is heating about a post kingdom and the treasure that's kept in a vault, one guarded by a nearly inescapable curse and, additionally, a dragon. He didn't hear that or the princess until he heard someone mention it, or heard the same story almost fifty times.
This time, he heard it from a circus performer and a former carver/builder, and decided to offer them some help; where they're going, some cities won't let a tiefling pass, but the mines are essentially free passageways if you know where you're going, and Whenua's guess is Matau and Onewa likely wouldn't know, so they'd probably get lost and then die of starvation or be found by mine workers and arrested for trespassing. If Matau and Onewa have him with them, he can vouch for them and make sure they can get where they're going.
What he wants in return is to simply tag along; he's heard lots of stories in the past, but he wants to see one play out himself. And so many books are actually wrong about dragons, and he wants to see and talk to one himself. Plus, it's just fascinating to meet a dragon.
There is still confusion, and a bit of skepticism, but Onewa and Matau ultimately agree, as Whenua seems to know his way around and they could really use that, especially with where they're going.
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Steve had blacked out. All of his senses had dwindled to nothing but blind rage. He was lost in a sea of darkness, and all he could do was breathe. And with each breath he took, he began to return to himself, began filling in the missing puzzle pieces of what had just happened.
Steve breathed in and smelled the crisp cold air, shortly before snow or a cold rain, and Steve breathed out.
Steve breathed in and tasted the quickly souring aftertaste of the strawberry milkshake he’d shared with Robin, and Steve breathed out.
Steve breathed in and heard the high pitched ringing in his ears, the echoes of a spat “freak” reverberating in his head, and Steve breathed out.
Steve breathed in and felt the stinging of his knuckles, the weakness after a heavy exertion traveling up his arm, and Steve breathed out.
Steve breathed in and saw the beautiful angry red trickle down Jason Carver’s face, soaking the front of his white shirt, and Steve breathed out.
Ah. Steve was caught up now.
Jason’s eyes flashed with what Steve first mistook as anger. Steve breathed in and braced himself for another big drawn-out fight that would end with him unconscious.
And Steve breathed out and only then recognized that flash in Jason’s eyes as fear.
Steve smiled, a big toothy grin, and let himself chuckle at the broken little sound Jason made as he backed away.
“Don’t you ever. fucking let me see your face again, Jason. I will break it in two.”
And just like that, Steve saw Jason walk away.
Steve turned around to see Eddie, Robin, and Dustin standing in a semicircle, not a single closed mouth among them.
It was a long moment before anyone said anything, but it was Dustin who piped up first, with nothing but a simple “dude.”
Steve let Eddie drive the Beemer, Robin excitedly rambling instant replays as Dustin wrapped Steve’s hand in the backseat.
Dustin was dropped off first, with a “See you in the morning, badass.”
Robin was dropped off second, with a “Remind me not to piss you off.”
And then Steve moved to the front seat and stared at his hand, clenching and unclenching it, feeling the pain shoot up his wrist, the pressure of the bandage feeling good, like it was holding him together.
Eddie drove them to Steve’s empty house, neither boy breaking the silence that was so loud, the trilling guitar and shouted lyrics couldn’t even drown it out.
Eddie put the car in park in Steve’s driveway, staring ahead for a long moment before pivoting in his seat to look at Steve’s hand.
“Steve?”
“yeah?”
“You good?”
Steve breathed in.
Steve breathed out.
And Steve told the truth.
“No. Honestly, no. I can’t fucking stand it anymore, Eddie, I don’t know how you do it.”
Eddie knew what he was referring to. “You uh, get used to it?”
“No. I refuse.”
“Well damn Steve you can’t go punching the entire town. What will you do when the next person is an 80 year old woman? You gonna hit an old lady, Steve?”
“If she deserves it.”
Eddie shook his head and barked out a laugh that was definitely not a laugh. “So you’re really looking forward to that prison time, huh?”
“If I deserve it.”
Eddie threw his hands up into the air like the exasperated mother of an impossible child. “Steve!! you’re not getting it. It’s never going to stop. People are going to talk and say things and think whatever the fuck they want to think! And you can’t ever change their minds because they’re right. I don’t belong. I’m the freak.”
It lingered in the air again and for a moment Steve thought he was going to black out again.
Steve breathed in.
Steve breathed out.
“No.”
Eddie gaped at him. “Steve-
“No. Goddamn fucking no, Eddie. There is nothing wrong with you. No. Not a thing. You care about people, and you’re kind, and you’re smart and funny and they’re… they’re-“ Steve sputtered, unable to come up with a word deserving of association with them, finally settling for a disgusted face and a sigh.
“People don’t like you because you don’t check their boxes. You don’t, and you don’t care to, and they don’t like that. It makes them think. Every time they see you they’re forced to think; to wonder why they work so hard to fit in when you seem so defiantly happy refusing. People don’t understand, and it scares them. People don’t like what they can’t understand. And you’re so boldly you, you’re-“
Steve breathed in.
Steve breathed out.
“You’re terrifying.”
Part Two
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