#also Druidcraft DOES serve a purpose: fanfics.

[lockewrites]

Reader working on a spell with Halsin

Reader (gender not specified) x Halsin || SFW || 1910 words AO3

From anon on Tumblr: I looove your work 😍 I was wondering whether you could write something with Halsin and a druid apprentice reader. Maybe where the reader gets frustrated that they can’t seem to get a spell right and he shows them very hands on? 👀

You’d seen Halsin cast it numerous times, usually to calm or entertain one of the children, and it always brought a smile to your face. Such simplicity, or so it seemed, yet here you sit in the grass, hunched over with a flower in pre-bloom between your fingers, refusing to open at your command. 

“In flore,” you whisper, trying so hard to keep the frustration from seeping into your spell casting, and the result is exactly what you expect. 

A glimmer of magic ebbs from your fingertips and surrounds the blossom before disappearing entirely, the flower just as hidden behind green as it was before.

The bashful flower falls into the grass and you drop your hands into your lap, defeated. You’ve tried casting the spell in as many ways as you could think: one hand grasping the stem, the other guiding the magic; both hands holding it and letting the magic spill free; enunciating very purposefully; whispering and letting your tongue move with fluidity; combining all of the methods you know to cast spells, and still this damned flower refuses to bloom for you.

Asking Halsin is an option, but to ask for help with something so mundane with all the chaos going on felt absolutely silly. 

With a deep sigh and a shake of your hands, as if to be rid of your failed castings from your fingertips, you steel your mind to try again. The flower remains between the blades of grass, and your hands hover just over it as you speak.

“In flore.” 

Again, iridescent whorls spill from your fingers, wrapping around the flower and lifting it just a touch into the air. It wobbles as your magic attempts to penetrate the bud, but just as before, it begins to wane.

“In flore!” you hiss, unwilling to let the magic die. 

It grows brighter for a moment, but only a moment.

“In flore!” 

Your voice is nearing a shout, and your magic surges, tearing through the green coverings and into the petals; the flower you desperately sought to free falls to the ground in colorful shreds. 

“Dammit!”

“Is everything all right?”

You whip your head around and find Halsin approaching with concern in his gaze. With his size, you're forced to crane your neck the closer he gets until he mercifully kneels beside you. His eyes fall on the pathetic-looking flower before returning to yours. 

“I was just…” Your lips press together as you look down at your failure and blush. “I was trying a spell and not having much success.”

His brow furrows a moment before softening as he settles on the ground in front of you, the dead flower lying between you. 

“What were you trying to cast?”

Your gaze flickers between the flower and him, and you let out a resigned sigh. “It’s silly,” you say. “I… was trying to make the flower bloom. Like I’ve seen you do.”

Halsin smiles. “Would you like some help?” he offers.

He holds his hand out toward you, and in a moment, a stemless bud appears in his palm. His other hand hovers over it, and in a soft voice he speaks, “In flore.” 

The green sepals slowly open, revealing layers and layers of blood-red petals. 

“Show off,” you tease.

With a chuckle, his hand waves over his other, and the flower disappears behind green once again. Holding it out toward you, he places it delicately in your palm. 

“Let me see,” he instructs. 

You release a sigh, your shoulders slumping in preeminent defeat as you know exactly how this demonstration will end; it was frustrating enough failing alone, but now to do so in front of Halsin…

The bud remains closed in your hand, waiting patiently for you, just the same as the druid. After a few moments of staring at it, you raise your other hand to hover just over it, mimicking the movements Halsin performed.

“In flore.” 

Your voice is soft but firm, and in a moment, iridescence spills from your fingers once more, wrapping around the bud and disappearing under the sepals. It begins to rise, the magic lifting the hidden flower and spinning ever-slowly. Your chest lightens, a breath of hope filling you. 

Your eyes dare a glance at Halsin and find him staring at you, rather than the spell between your fingers. Heat pools in your cheeks, and you drop your gaze back down to your hands.

Suddenly, the shimmering tendrils escape the flower and constrict around its fragile greenery, leaving nothing more than a pitiful lump in your hand. 

An irritated breath forces through your nose as your hands fall back into your lap. 

“You’re casting the magic well,” Halsin explains, drawing your attention away from the flower, “but you must also reach out to nature itself.”

You must give him a look that earns you a warm chuckle. He reaches out, his fingertips grazing your palm as he takes the bud from you.

“Let’s ignore the flower for now,” he suggests, placing it on the ground beside him. “Close your eyes.”

You do as he asks, letting him guide you without hesitation. 

“Allow your breaths to grow deep and steady,” Halsin continues, his voice quiet and soothing. “In and out.”

“This feels like guided meditation,” you remark, opening your eyes to glance at him.

His fingers brush over your eyelids, prompting them back shut and giving you a lungful of his forest-like scent. His touch leaves your skin tingling, even as fleeting as it was. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, trying to ignore that your face is on fire. 

“In and out,” he repeats. “Feel the wind filling your chest. The very breath of nature accompanying yours.”

It doesn’t quite come naturally to you, focusing on little more than your breath and the wind. You shift your mind to his instructions: ‘In and out.’ His voice, like warm velvet, wraps around your thoughts, and you breathe in time to his words. 

With each inhale, his words become like whispers, and you no longer hear them within but as if carried in the air. They pull through your senses and spread to your limbs.

“Good,” Halsin says. “Now, listen to nature’s heartbeat. The rustle of leaves, the shifting of blades of grass, the calls of wildlife, the harmony of creation existing together.”

Your breath continues steadily as you push your focus outward, seeking out the melodies Halsin spoke of. The wind picks up a bit, rushing past your ears and blocking any minute sounds you’d otherwise hear.

A finger crooks under your chin, guiding your head up; you hadn’t noticed you tucked in toward your chest in your attempt to listen.

“Relax your face,” he instructs. 

His fingers slide down your neck, and you suppress a shiver; his hand stops just under your collarbone, resting against your sternum, and you're sure he can feel your increasing heartbeat. 

“Focus on your heartbeat,” Halsin says. “Nature’s own will find you.”

He removes his hand, and you immediately miss its heat, but you try to ignore the longing and heed his instruction.

He’s certainly aided in making your heartbeat easier to listen to; it pounds, not quite in your ears, but you feel it heavy in your chest. You focus on its steady — and slightly rapid — pumping: th-thump. th-thump. th-thump. 

Some time passes in silence, nothing but your heartbeat; you’re about to speak up, tell Halsin this isn’t working, when you hear the faintest rustle. The wind has stopped, you hadn’t noticed when, yet the rustling grows louder and falls in time with your heart rate. More sounds join in, as though new instruments are being added one at a time to a composition; a bird’s song, trees creaking, a squirrel’s chitter, and… and another steady beat. 

“Excellent.” Halsin’s voice somehow sounds as distant as the birdsong and as close as a whisper in your ear. “You’re breathing it in, hearing it. Now, feel it.”

Your brow quirks.

“Feel nature’s caress against your skin,” he explains. “Feel its heartbeat within your own. Inside and out.”

You return your mind to the symphony of the world surrounding the both of you, inviting it to wrap itself around you. The wind, though nearly still, brushes across your face and arms with the barest touch; it slips through your lips and wraps around your tongue, offering a hint of pine and herbs. You swallow the taste, feeling it settle in your stomach and overflow into your chest, joining your heartbeat with its own. 

The entirety of your body is synchronized with nature’s breath and heart; you’ve never felt quite so… whole. 

A new pulse joins the rhythm; its origin feeling far closer than the ethereal sensations you’re sure are from the spirit of nature itself. Warmth engulfs your hand and guides it forward until it’s flat against Halsin’s chest; his heat seeps through his tunic into your palm. 

“You feel it,” he remarks. His hand remains atop yours. “We are all connected. Existing within nature, nature existing within us, our own beings existing with one another.”

After some moments of simply existing together, he speaks again. “Open your eyes.”

You find him watching you with a proud grin, and you can��t help but return it. 

He releases you and conjures a fresh bud, dropping it into your hand before cupping yours with his. The other hovers, just as it had before, and he casts the spell once again. 

“In flore.” His words are accompanied by faint whispers that were hidden from you before; they seem to ebb from the magic itself, or perhaps are simply drawn to the magic, following it as it disappears into the flower. A moment later, it blooms, this time into a purple peony. 

“What was that?” you ask, a bit in awe. “I heard something when you cast the spell.”

“Nature,” he replies, smiling, his pride seeping into the crinkles of his eyes. “This type of magic requires nature to be an active participant. It’s only successful when the caster and nature exist in harmony.”

“It’s amazing,” you reply, still looking at the flower. Such a simple spell, yet it needs such an understanding of the ways of the druids; you had taken Halsin’s ease of casting it for granted, it seems. 

“Would you like to try again?” 

Halsin watches you expectantly, and you can’t bring yourself to deny him, even now knowing how daunting a task opening a flower truly is.

“Sure,” you reply, giving a shy smile. 

With a single wave of his hand, the flower closes.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and trying to recall all of what Halsin walked you through; it doesn’t feel quite as strong as when he guided you, even with his touch still on your hand, but you manage to reclaim some semblance. 

“In flore.” 

Your magic flows forward into the flower bud, but there are no whispers in response, and you can’t help the disappointment that settles within you. Before the spell can destroy this flower, you release it with a frown.

“This was not a failure,” Halsin assures, giving you a gentle squeeze. 

“It certainly looks like one,” you remark with a sheepish chuckle.

“You were able to embrace the spirit of nature,” he counters. “That’s not an easy feat for those who haven’t dedicated their life to such things.”

“Well,” you reply with a blush and a smile, “I had quite the guide. This was… enlightening. Thank you.”