#anybody want a darewin fic?

[squishmallow36]

Keeper of the Lost Prepositions - Fifty-seven

Word count: 2.5k

Tw: none

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @gaslight-gaetkeep-gayboss @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @florida-fruity-frog @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @never-mourn-the-good @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @cotyledon-tomentosa @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @cherryberrybitch @blossomsxgalorex

On Ao3 or below the cut!

    Fitz hangs up with Sophie somewhere around fifteen minutes later and takes a second before yelling through the wall, “Is there anyone else you want me to hail? Sophie’s talking to the Forklenator.”

    I take a single earbud out, replying, “Try and see if you can reach Councillor Darek. I don’t want this to go through thirty-six different people before it reaches the council. They’re already idiots. We need to minimize that however we can.”

    I hear Fitz’s muffled Imparter ringing and gives it a minute before yelling back, “I got nothing.”

    “Try Elwin then.” It’s worth seeing if he’s got Darek hanging around. And if not, it’ll be good to have him in the loop. I think we all know someone’s going to have a near-death experience before the end of this. I just hope it isn’t Fitz. 

    Fitz’s Imparter rings for only a few seconds. “Hi, Elwin!”

    “Hey, Fitz. Who’s dying this time?” Elwin asks, sounding tired. 

    I roll over to the doorframe, not wanting to actually be seen on camera, but I think we all know Fitz is not a Technopath. He’s gotten better in recent weeks but I still wouldn’t trust him to build any gadgets. 

    I reply, “No one. Yet.”

    “Oh, hi, Dex,” comes Elwin’s response. 

    “We were kind of wondering if Councillor Darek happened to be there,” Fitz says, before we get distracted. 

    “Yeah, why?” Elwin asks, probably dragging him into view. Could confirm if I could see.

    Eh, being the mysterious voice from beyond is good enough for me. 

    “It’s a very long story.” 

    “I’m here,” I hear Darek say. “What do you need?”

    “Where should I start?” Fitz asks, looking at me for an answer. 

    So there’s Godzilla’s email...which doesn’t make sense until you have my double agent context...which doesn’t make sense without Tinker’s double agent context. 

    “Tinker,” I answer, nodding for pretty much no good reason. 

    “Okay. I don’t know if you’ve heard any of this but Tinker’s apparently a member of the Neverseen. We figured that out a while ago but whatever. Now she’s in Black Swan custody so Dex kind of took over, pretending to be her for like maybe a week and a half. And then he proceeded to get scared of what would happen if the Neverseen found out what he was doing. Don’t ask; I don’t know how his thought process works. So now he’s gotten himself into being a double agent for the Neverseen--”

    Fitz stops abruptly. “I realize now that if you’re working for them, it isn’t my most brilliant idea to tell you everything that’s happened recently regarding this--and Dex has gotten some vague information on what the Neverseen’s next move might be. I have already hailed Sophie.”

   “Speaking of Sophie, should I forward her the email with the details?” I ask Fitz. 

   “Not if someone can track it.”

    I smile softly, because a few months ago he wouldn’t have the vaguest idea to suggest that. Already rolling over to the computer, I call, “Blind carbon copy exists for a reason!”

    “Add Forkle onto it if you can,” he calls back. 

    I send it, and I can vaguely hear Elwin asking, “What’s in this email? Whatever an email is.”

    “Dex, you explain the techy things,” Fitz essentially yells at me, and I reluctantly roll back to the doorway. 

    “Basically the Neverseen don’t trust me because the name of the thing is not what it looks like it does to me, and that’s honestly one of the smarter things they’ve done. So a lot of this is based on the diagram with the dimensions and specs. I think it’s the technical equivalent to an Enhancer.”

    “And by ‘think’ you mean…?” Fitz asks. 

    “It looks super super similar to my ability restrictor we’ve all tried to collectively forget.”

    Fitz mutters, “And by we you mean you.”

    “Don’t call me out like that.” I smile. “Councillor Darek, do you happen to know if the plans for that whole debacle were given to anyone outside of the council?”

    “Not to my knowledge,” he replies. 

    “So, if the diagram was not shared, how do you explain the very apparent similarities between the ability restrictor and this new device?”

    “Another Technopath got into the system?” Darek guesses.

    Just a typical Councillor trying to avoid the blame. Why did I expect anything less?

    “There aren’t a whole lot of us Technopaths, so it would be plausible to believe that Tinker would be the one to do it if someone hacked the system. If they did, I would think I could find Gisela telling her to do that because they have not deleted their emails any time in the past four years.”

    I roll over to the computer, and run a keyword search for ‘ability restrictor’ that comes back with nothing helpful. Email search engines are horrible, but I think it would’ve found something. Gisela’s kind of a control freak. There would’ve been a ton of emails. I roll back to the doorway so I don’t have to yell.

    “If she’d deleted their emails anytime recently, there wouldn’t be over two thousand in there.”

    After a moment, Darek asks, “Where does that leave us?”

    Fitz answers, “Dex--and he’s convinced me so I’ll say and I--are thinking that maybe there’s a bit of a leak in the council.”

    Darek swears and Elwin probably does too although I can’t hear him. 

    “I mean, like a third of my reasoning is that I’m not sure what other options are left.”

    “Thank you for letting me know,” Darek says shakily, having regained his ability to form words that do not have to be bleeped out. 

    “I figured I could trust you.” I roll in front of the camera. “I know things.” I retreat back into the doorway. 

    “Again, I do not know what that information is,” Fitz clarifies. “But I do know that he can be scary when he wants to be.”

    “Should we let him in?” Darek asks quietly, presumably to Elwin. 

    Fitz looks at me and it doesn’t take a telepath to know what he’s thinking. Preposition. 

    I miss Elwin’s response. “How good are you with secrets?” Darek asks Fitz. 

    “I’ve had a bi too much experience lately.”

    Hey, that’s my answer to that.

    “Dex, you’re in charge of all definitions.”

    “He knows all the definitions. Not well, but he’s learning,” I mumble, which directly causes more swear words from the Councillor. 

   Fitz shrugs, transmitting, Thanks. For the outstanding confidence you have in my learning abilities. 

    I can’t stop myself from smiling. 

    Darek audibly takes a breath. “I haven’t told anyone this before…but Elwin and I have been seeing each other for a while.”

    The pieces click in Fitz’s head--he could have very easily played the ‘of course you’ve been seeing each other that’s what eyeballs do’ card--and he nearly shouts, “Oh my stars, that makes so much sense.”

    Meanwhile, Elwin is laughing so hard, he can probably barely stand. 

    Slightly more composed, Darek emphasizes, “You can’t tell anyone. You know what the council would do if they knew.”

     Fitz nods. “And also, I seriously doubt the Elvin world would be accepting of a gay relationship. Just, you know, a total guess.”

    “You’ve taught him well, Dex.” Elwin snorts. 

    Fitz turns to me, and a swarm of irrational butterflies flutters in my stomach.

    “Wait, do they know…?”

    “About me? Yeah. And if you knew that fact, you’d ask way too many questions because up until now, the list of people that know are like ninety percent queer.”

    “Who’s the other ten percent?” Fitz has to ask. 

    “Lord Cassius. Maybe my parents. But considering that they bet on whether or not I was gay, I don’t think they’re both totally straight. Just a guess though. Although they aren’t fluent in Queer quite yet, so I don’t know.”

   “Watch out. Sounds like your gaydar has been activated. Don’t go challenging too many societal norms.”

    I already broke you, Wonderboy. I’ll do it again. 

    “My gaydar is horrible. I just get told things so I look like I’m the all-knowing queer elder.”

    “And you also have Wikipedia downloaded to your brain.”

    “I’m not that bad,” I snap. “Or a cyborg. At least not yet.”

    He’s watching me, and I have to wonder what weird thing I did to prompt it this time. 

    He looks back to his Imparter. “While we’re all trusting each other with the gay secrets, I’ll throw mine into the Aurenflare. I’m bi.” His glance bounces back to me. “You know this. I am making one single attempt to be ever so slightly less closeted.”

   “You know you don’t have to do that if you don’t want--.”

    “I know,” Fitz interrupts. “But I’ve had enough conversations with you and Keefe that this morning I nearly outed myself to my parents. It was not pretty. I was very red. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

    Elwin mutters, barely picked up by the microphone, “And this is why I haven’t spoken to my parents in thirty years. Well, it’s like half the reason...close enough.”

    “And you wonder why he doesn’t acknowledge his last name until absolutely necessary,” Darek says. 

    “You know, getting married might fix the issue. And I know at least one mlm councillor that might be willing to help legalize that.”

    “You could just say gay and not show off your vocabulary,” Darek replies. 

    “How am I supposed to know automagically if you’re mspec?”

    “Because then I would get myself into a straight relationship and not have to deal with all of this.”

    Fitz looks at me like, I am both sitting right here very bisexually and in a gay relationship. Gotcha. 

    Meanwhile, Elwin makes a pouting noise. 

    “I love you. Stop whining,” Darek snaps jokingly. “I’m just saying this would’ve been a little easier before the whole Councillor deal.”

    “And whose fault was that?” Elwin asks. 

    Darek sighs. “Mine.”

    “Also the heteronormativity of the Lost Cities,” Fitz adds. 

    “Don’t tell him that. He’ll use it the next time we bring this up,” begs Elwin. 

    “This is a common conversation topic?” I ask. 

    They both respond yes in unison before laughing. 

    Elwin contributes, “Literally once a week.”

    “Help us. We’re disaster gays and we have a very limited list of conversations,” Darek pleads. 

    “Including and limited to whatever you and your friends have gotten yourselves into this time. After a few years, you sort of run out of things to talk about.”

   Fitz looks at me, transmitting, Preposition. Also he says ‘about’ like you do. Is this a coincidence? 

    I shrug. I don’t know how any of that works. 

    “And that’s when someone hails with a life-threatening injury. And then someone has to go run off and I have to hide in his office and hope the council doesn’t make some important decision while I’m gone. At least I’ll have a new conversation topic for the next couple of days.”

    “Since when did the council make important decisions?” I mutter, hoping it doesn’t get picked up, and Fitz snorts. 

    Darek’s Imparter buzzes, so it wasn’t, in fact, turned off, like I’d expected. “We do like to keep up that illusion the best we can, and I must go maintain it. I’ll discuss with them the new information acquired today.”

    “Ooh, somebody has his Councillor voice on. Still on for dinner tonight?” Elwin asks, clearly ignoring us on the other side of the Imparter. 

    “Yep. Do not be surprised if I am home late once again. Love you.”

    “Love you too,” Elwin replies, and I can hear the smile in his voice. 

    Aah, they’re so cute together. Curse the council and its aroace-favourable rules. 

    Elwin waits for a second, presumably until Darek leaves the room. “Is there anything else we need to talk about or are we good?”

    “Not to my knowledge,” Fitz replies before looking at me for confirmation. 

    I shake my head. 

    “Alright then. See you later,” Elwin says, probably waving. 

    Fitz is definitely waving, and I say, “Bye,” before hearing the click of the ended hail.

    I deflate with that sound, and Fitz rolls over to me, asking, “You okay?”

    I nod.

    “‘Cause you look exhausted as all get out and you were fine a minute ago.”  

    “I’m fine. It’s just dealing with people, you know?”

     “Not really. Is this another one of your Dex things? Because your grammar has done more than enough to corrupt my brain.”

    I shrug, and Fitz intertwines my fingers with his.

    Stars, I’ll never get tired of that shower of sparks. 

    “Does this mean I can get you to stop working with the threat of talking to others?”

    I laugh. “You can certainly try, but it won’t work.”

    “Exile. I thought I finally figured you out.”

    “While not directly related to that, I do have one more thing before I go pass out for a year and a half. I have to--how did you put it? Throw another secret onto the Aurenflare? I’ll start by asking: how much do you know about neopronouns?”

    “Zero. But I’m sure you’ll explain it to me.” 

    “You should know what pronouns are. We have been taking grammar classes. Take those and make them all funky. For example, I’ve adopted xe/xem into my hoard. Xe replaces the nominative case--he or she, and xem replaces the objective case--him or her, at least in the terms of the binary we all know and tolerate. But I didn’t stop there. Instead of the possessive form being xyr like usual, I’ve gone changed it to xor.”

    “You’re gonna explain it, aren’t you?”

    “Absolutely. Have we met before? So I’m sorry for the technical terms I’m about to throw your way, but basically computers, both human and elvin, run on long strings of zeros and ones, each called a bit. These bits are manipulated by logic gates. I’m not going to get into all of them, but one of them is the exclusive or gate, affectionately called the xor gate because computer scientists are lazy and that’s a lot of letters. It functions in the same way ‘or’ does in normal language. Like if you get the option to choose x or y, you can’t take both. That’s close enough to xor for today’s purposes.”

    “So you, being the Technopath you are, had to incorporate that.”

    “You are very correct. So, if you don’t mind, could you occasionally refer to me in conversations between us and/or in your head using xe/xem?”

    Fitz’s face softens. “Of course. Please tell me when I inevitably mess things up.”

    “You’ll hear about it, trust me. It may be a few years in the future. But you’ll hear about it.”

    Fitz just smiles in response, and I desperately want to know what’s going on inside that handsome head of his. Just once. 

    Figure out why he’s always so entertained by me and my weirdness.