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the-greatest-magic-of-all · 7 days ago

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Riz’s limp body hit the ground with a thump, head bouncing off the solid marble floor in a way that he thankfully couldn’t feel thanks to being completely and utterly dead. As such he was totally unaware of Nurse Silvergroves yell of surprise, of a cultist turning their attention away from the dead goblin on the floor and towards her, and the thundering roar of a hellhound barrelling into them before they could even lift a finger in the direction of the cleric.

With the cultists distracted by the furious hell hound, the exhausted guards and cleric were able to scoop Riz’s lifeless form off the floor and duck into cover, four separate hands offering diamonds to Nurse Silvergrove (each member forced to carry one on their person in case of emergencies, especially after an incident years ago where Riz nearly died because their healer had run out). Less than fourty seconds after hitting the floor the goblin was gasping back to life, hand flying to his chest as the lingering phantom pain of injuries not his own started to fade. Fuck. He knew there was a possibility that Fabian would have to use the enchantment one day but could it have been at a worse time?

Years ago, before Fabian was King and Riz was still working as a detective out of that dinky little office in Elmville, he’d stumbled backwards into (unwillingly) becoming Goblin King. In the fae wilds it granted him near god-like power but he was loathe to use it after an incident involving a little white lie that gained a life of its own and summarily tried to steal that power for itself. He would LOVE to use some of that power now and destroy these traitorous bastards in one fell swoop but on the material plane his power was severely limited.

There was one thing that he gained upon his (accidental) ascension to the throne that he did like though, an expansive library that would surely take him his entire life to read through. He’d only perused a few of the tomes while in the castle but one in particular had caught his interest. One that explained why his people made sure to destroy any of their shed teeth. A spell, simple enough to execute, that could swap the life of the fangs owner for whoever held it should they die in battle. Useful in some situations, a horrifying prospect for those who didn’t give their fangs willingly, but something that Riz had memorised and used on occasions where he knew Fabian would be in danger and he wouldn’t be around to keep him safe.

Apparently, Fabian had just died in the throne room and the fang in his pocket had done its job, pushing the wounds onto Riz halfway across the castle and keeping the King alive. Riz counted it as fulfilling his oath as his Nohecharei, dying rather than letting the King come to harm. There was just one problem, which was the little fact that it only worked once, which meant that Fabian had just used up his one-and-only extra life and Riz wasn’t close enough to offer backup.

He was on his feet again almost as soon as the light from Nurse Silvergrove’s revivify faded, having to catch himself on the wall as the world spun and swayed around him. At least three points of exhaustion making him want to sit on the floor and rest for a while but he had to push forwards. Fabian had no more chances, he’d used up the last ditch effort Riz had given him to keep him safe even if the goblin had never told him what it was.

He needed to get to him now and given that none of those present could match him for speed when he really got going he would have to leave them behind. The guards and Nurse Silvergrove would be fine, the cultists were being handled quite well by the Oaken Warrior but Fabian was clearly not handling things too well by himself.

Riz made it two whole steps before Nurse Silvergrove made a swipe for his arm to get him to hold still for just a moment, dodging out of the way as he holstered his arcubus and dropped to all fours to sprint off down the corridor. He usually didn’t act quite so… goblin-y… while in Falinel but running like a humanoid would just slow him down and at this point he wanted speed.

The Hangman wasn’t far behind him as he skidded around corners headed directly for the throne room, the hellhound bulldozing through cultists in the corridors and thoroughly distracting them from the tiny green blur that zipped past in the shadows.

Thankfully the distance from the infirmary to the throne room wasn’t all that far. The doors were still hanging off the frame slightly when he slowed from his desperate four-legged sprint and stood up, carefully jogging around the dead guards (traitors, all of them sporting Penelope’s coat of arms in place of the Kings) that had been crushed by the Oaken Warriors or felled by Adaine and Aelwyns spells.

Nurse Silvergrove hadn’t just let him run off like that on his own though apparently, the cleric having hoisted her robes up and sprinting down the corridor after him and The Hangman with the rest of the guards in tow. Shouting for him to slow down as if he was in any state to hear her over the sound of his own ragged breathing and the blood pumping in his ears.

He didn’t stop running until he was inside the throne room, literally skidding to a stop and having to back up a few paces just in case the sorceress’s allies were still fighting. Using the open doors as partial cover he scanned the room quickly, noting that Sir Durden had beaten him here, along with a good half-dozen still standing Oaken Warriors, a smug looking Aelwyn, a rather worried looking Adaine and where was- “Fabian?!” He called out, still panting heavily as he tried to spot Fabian amongst all the battle carnage. He didn’t quite get a chance to find him before The Hangman caught up with him though, the hellhounds jaws grabbing him by the back of his pants and carrying him into the throne room to deposit him at Fabians feet. “I have delivered The Ball safely, Sire.” The hellhound rumbled, looking all too pleased with himself for delivering him the last hundred feet and dropping him (dazed, exhausted, and very confused) at the foot of his master.

I have awoken from my writing slumber once more!

The moment Fabian’s gaze landed on Riz after the arduous battles they both endured, the world, as vast and varied as it was, managed to narrow down and fit into a single person. Right now, nothing else in the world mattered even an eighth as much as seeing Riz banged up but alive and deposited at his feet.

“Good job, Hangman,” Fabian said, giving his steed head pats and chin scritches before he dropped to a knee. Suddenly, he was just so so tired and wanted nothing more than to scoop Riz into his arms and never let go. Because they did it. They did it, and he deserved five minutes of Goblin cuddle time. At the very least. Except, as he was about to reach out to wrap his arms around Riz, he suddenly felt the weight of dozens of eyes on the back of his neck. Right.

They were not in the privacy of his bedchambers with only Adaine as a witness, where they could be Riz and Fabian, best friends and a new kind of partners. No. Here, within the stark and noble halls of the throne room, they were King Fabian and Sir Gukgak, King and ever-loyal Knight, who kept a decent and impersonal distance from each other.

So, instead of following his heart, Fabian pulled one hand back and left the other to rest on Riz’s shoulder as the Goblin scrambled to his knees. Giving it a squeeze as he raked his eyes up and down Riz’s form. Trying to list every mark and hair out of place, he said, “Sir Gukgak! Are you all in one piece? I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize that Everpetal’s forces still wanted you dead. Then I went and sent you to the last place they knew you were.”

Still reeling from several levels of exhaustion, Riz could only stare up at Fabian in confusion and with glazed eyes. What was with the formality? Blinking up at his best friend and his something else (Maybe. They hadn’t had time to figure everything out) and wondering if he imagined the kisses and confession from before, and if this was all one big fever dream. Apprehension mounting and an ache in his heart building, he leaned into Fabian’s hand and had to stop himself from grabbing it and smooshing it to his face when he heard the last of the guards clank into the throne room.

Oh.

Slowly blinking, Riz looked around as Fabian had and remembered himself. There was nothing wrong with Fabian, and he wasn’t misremembering their kisses. However, Fabian couldn’t be as intimate and touchy-feely as he wanted to be—and neither could he.

“Your Majesty, it’s alright. More of your subjects would’ve perished if I hadn’t been there to help. It was all well worth it,” Riz said as he did his best to pull himself up and compose himself. Holding onto his identity as Fabian’s Knight as his moor, sinking his claws in tight. Though, it was a tough sell, seeing as he could hardly keep himself from swaying and almost falling asleep on the spot. Yet he still did his job informing his King, lowering his voice as he went on, “I opened a portal to the Feywilds and evacuated as many people as we could.”

“Quick thinking. Just as I expected,” Fabian said, smiling a bit at how adorable Riz was when he was properly tired, though he kept a steadying hand on Riz’s shoulder. “But what of you, Sir Gukgak? How did you fare?”

Riz’s eyes widened, unable to even pretend that he was okay as he stuttered, “I—well—”

“He died, Your Majesty!” Nurse Silvergrove, or simply Taralyn, shouted from where she had her arms wrapped around Ameli. Pointing an accusatory finger at Riz as her little sister giggled, knowing better than any other servant of the Noecherai’s affinity for overworking himself. “It was completely preposterous! I’m not even sure what hit him! Spell or ammunition! But just like that, he was dead. I didn’t have the chance to stabilize him!”

Riz winced, hands going up as Fabian rounded on him, head whipping around as soon as Taralyn finished to give his Knight a stern look. “Gukgak!”

“Listen! I-It could have been a spell of some kind. But that doesn’t matter. I’m supposed to go down in a fight like this,” Riz said, words tumbling out of his mouth as quickly as he could shove them out. Feeling as Fabian’s grip on his shoulder tightened, though not painfully. Instead, he could tell that there was only fear and worry in such a squeeze (and a smidge of possessiveness, but hey. That came with the territory.), and, as discreetly as he could, he placed a hand over Fabian’s and went on to ask the most important question on his mind. “My King, are you alright?”

Fabian was not entirely convinced. He was, however, prepared to discuss it back in his chambers and not under watch by the prying, disapproving eyes of the courtiers still present. Letting the matter of Riz’s well-being rest, and quickly nodded in answer. “Perfectly fine. There was a touch-and-go moment with Blayde, but I managed to pull through… somehow…”

Oop! No, no, no. Fabian definitely did not need to know about his little fang trick. He’d never be willing to take another if he knew the cost of his life would be Riz’s, and Riz needed Fabian to have one on him when he wasn’t there to protect him. There was no way he’d be able to do more of his roguish intrigue and investigations outside of the Capital without going sick with worry for Fabian’s safety.

So, in pursuit of throwing off Fabian from learning about the truth behind his good luck charms, Riz, still mostly delirious, raised his voice and poured as much awe and excitement into it as he said, “Surely a miracle then! Clearly, Galicaea favours you as her people’s one true King.” Doubling down on his children’s holiday play level performance as he wobbled back down to take a knee and bow his head to Fabian. “My liege.”

“That was a bit much,” Fabian whispered as he covered his mouth and tried not to grin or laugh out loud as the lingering servants and Courtiers all recited praises to Galicaea with various amounts of enthusiasm and befuddlement.

Lifting his eyes, Riz smirked, “You think?”

“Yes!” Nurse Silvergrove said as she poured the last spell slot (A Greater Restoration to help with the exhaustion) into Riz and passed by. Utterly spent and wanting only to sit down for a moment. And so she did… In the only other seat in the room. Sinking into Fabian’s throne without a second thought. Waving Ameli’s worry off. Clearly, the King was perfectly capable of removing her from his throne when he was ready. “Let him try.”

Fabian stifled a laugh as some of the older courtiers balked at the Nurse’s exhausted audacity and raked his mind for a way to speed past yet another act of treason with grace. Unfortunately, the universe had a fondness for kicking Fabian when he was moments away from getting back up.

“Ummm, Your Majesty?” Adaine’s hushed voice broke Fabian’s thoughts as she speed-walked over from where she and Aelwen were handling the Oak Warrior. A familiar look of suppressed worry on her face as she approached. Only stopping to give Riz a few head pats and a ‘Good to see you’ as he (wobbly) rose to his feet with a similar questioning look on Fabian’s. “I just got a Sending.”

Fabian shared a look with Riz before arching a brow at Adaine, lowering his voice to match hers. “From who?”

“Fig,” Adaine hissed, taking both of them by the arms and trying to pull them further away from any potential eavesdroppers. Taking a breath to steady herself and get all the information out without working herself up. “For some fucking reason, there’s an Ancient Red Dragon that appeared on the Aguefort grounds. We have to go help now.”

Without missing a beat, despite still having two levels of exhaustion left, Riz rolled his shoulders and put a hand on the pommel of his sword as his face and resolve hardened. There was no way in the Nine Hells that he would let a rampant dragon get anywhere near his Mom. He may have happily sworn his life to protecting Fabian, but some things were bigger than an Oath. “No time to lose then. Fabian?”

Nodding, his heart picked up speed after having little time to rest. No matter how tired Fabian was, he was on the same page as Riz. There wasn’t a world where he didn’t throw himself back into the fray. “Of course, let me just—”

“King Fabian?” An older voice called out as one of the older Courtiers crept out of their little cluster, ornate cane in hand, thumping as he grew closer. “Is there another threat on the horizon already?”

Fabian quickly raked his mind for a name for the greying ginger man just on the edge of wrinkling but not quite. Lord Fernmyst came to his mind. An old war hero from when Falinel was being invaded by Sol worshipers, if he remembered correctly. Well respected among the Court and a friend of his Aunt Tinuviel. Umberlee below, today must’ve been hard for him.

Stepping away from Riz and Adaine, Fabian quickly shook his head and met Lord Fernmyst halfway. “No, no! I do believe we have everything under control now. It’s simply that…” He trailed off, hearing his next words before he said them, knowing they would not be taken favourably and having no other option. It wouldn’t be the best to lie about his whereabouts. Even Fabian knew that. So, clearing his throat and raising his voice so that everyone could hear him, he said, “It has come to my attention that my family is in immediate danger. I must leave immediately to aid them in further battles. I will, of course, be back in the Capitol as quickly as I can manage.”

Gasps rang out despite being as small of a group as it was, still within the throne room. Sympathetic looks were thrown his way by even courtiers who Fabian thought held a distaste for him. Lord Fernmyst being one of them. Hmmm, a change of heart? He’d liked to think so, but he knew it was likely just shellshock.

“Oh, but of course, Your Majesty,” Lord Fernmyst said with a bow of his upper body as far as his old injuries would allow. When he lifted his head, he thumped his cane as his ears tilted until they were in a ‘highly amused’ position despite his face remaining rather stern and solemn as he went on, “Attacking a retired military strategist won’t be the most unwise move Everpetel made, but it’ll be rather up there.”

“Ah, I, uh, I meant, uh,” Fabian spluttered, taking a small step back and away from Lord Fernmyst. Coughing into his fist as he eeked out, “I’ll be… I’ll actually be headed to Solace.”

Now that? That didn’t go over well at all.

Elves were tough to stir up into a true and honest ‘outrage,’ but Fabian seemed to have a hidden talent for it. Courtiers, servants, and some of his guards quickly whipped themselves up into a tizzy. Older members of the Courtiers grabbed onto the closest person for support. While some of the older servants tsked in their disapproval. The guards tightened their holds on their blades and helmets as they, and everyone else, began to speak.

What? So soon? —Abandoning his people—What is he thinking—This is absurd—Going to get himself killed and then we’ll—What family could he possibly have—Reckless—Defecting—Worrisome—This would’ve never happened with—

“ENOUGH!”

Despite his size and despite his exhaustion, Riz’s voice rang out and silenced every other in but a single moment. Striding forward on legs that felt like they’d give out any moment now, he unsheathed the Sword of Shadows. Standing defensively in front of Fabian, between him and Fernmyst. Darkness wisped and curled at the edges of his sleek, black blade as the room’s shadows lengthened and darkened as Riz gripped his sword tighter. Barely restraining himself from bearing his fangs at the group of Elves before him. Time was of the essence, and these fucking Elves weren’t going to somehow shame Fabian into leaving his friends and family to fight off a dragon without him. Not on Riz’s watch. Especially not when he knew Fabian would’ve died defending a land and a people that did not fiercely love him back.

Not like Riz did.

So, fueled by his death and just how utterly done he was with this Court, shadows swirling at his feet, the lights of the room dimming, Riz spoke out, “The Queen Mother of His Majesty is currently under threat from an Ancient Red Dragon. You dare question his loyalty to his people after he fended off a coup and may very well have saved your lives!? Have you no shame? Have you no faith in a King that nearly died—”

“Sir Gukgak.” Fabian gently interrupted him, placing a hand on Riz’s shoulder, squeezing it, and whispering, ‘Thank you,’ before he looked Lord Fernmyst in the eyes. Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, he kept his voice uncompromising as he said, “I am not abandoning any of you. While I know I have a duty to this Kingdom, I have a duty to my family as well. Many Falinel’s children live beyond our shores, especially in Solace. I pledged to be their King in good and dark times. I won’t abandon them either. It shouldn’t take long to defeat a single dragon. As soon as we’re finished, I will return and speak to the Kingdom about how we move forward after this betrayal by House Everpetal.”

For a moment, it seemed like his little speech had worked. Until Lord Fernmyst thumped his cane and drew everyone’s attention once more as he raised his voice, “You can’t just—!” before quickly bringing it back down as he remembered himself. (With the help of a death glare from the King’s Nohecharei.) Clearing his throat, the Lord gave Fabian a stern look as he tried again. “Your Majesty, there can not not be a ruler of Falinel on its shores without weeks of notice. To do so, you would need to elect a senior member of one of the Court’s Houses and not only have the entire House’s unanimous approval but also the approval of the Court.”

Rules, rules, rules!

It seemed that one of the only things this Court had managed to cultivate ever since it left the Feywilds was thousands upon thousands of rules. All of which were supposed to be stuffed into his head no matter how minute and pedantic and kept there until he needed to retrieve them for some fucking reason. Apparently, when you were immortal, the only thing that brought one joy was a new way to twist and contort oneself or others to satisfy whatever sadomasochistic impulse whoever was in charge had that century!

But if that’s how they wanted to play this game, that would be perfectly fine.

He could do the same.

Flashing Lord Fernmyst a charming smile that, in the past, had won over many hearts back in Solace, Fabian eagerly nodded in agreement. To the Lord’s visible confusion (ears tilted slightly upward).

“Exactly! You are exactly right, My Lord. Which is why—” Fabian sidestepped Fernmyst to point a finger over at Aelwen, who was currently calculating the runes necessary to get these Oak Warriors back to the primeval forest they’d come from. “—I elect Lady Aelwen, the current Head and Seniormost member of House Abernant.”

Gasps rang out throughout the throne room at not only the suddenness of such a declaration and temporary abdication, but also who exactly Fabian had chosen. Though she had been raised as a child within the Court of Stars and her late Father was Falinel’s former diplomat, Lady Abernant was still very much a light form of pariah within the Court. Of course, she was fine to attend parties and dinners, but she would not be considered for any critical roles or to be on any important councils for at least another five hundred years! For her to be even considered for the role of Queen pro tempore, this soon was… unheard of! It just wasn’t done!

Aelwen was also very much left in a state of shock. Eyes wide, halfway through marking off the needed conjuration runes, she could only think to say, “Pardon?”

But Fabian didn’t have time (and Elmville didn’t have the time) to even apologize for thrusting this responsibility onto her. Instead, he immediately had to round on Adaine with pleading eyes as he asked, “Lady Adaine, All-Seeing Elven Oracle and sole other member of your House, do you approve of my decision?”

Owlish blink once, twice, thrice.

Adaine looked at Aelwen and then back to Fabian, then to Lord Fernmyst and back again. If she was being honest, she, more than anyone, had an endless list of reasons why it was a horrible idea to put Aelwen in a position with even a smidge of power. But as another desperate Sending from Fig filled her mind, she had to hope for the best. “I do.”

Mouthing a ‘thank you’ to Adaine, Fabian once again spun to beckon Aelwen closer, which she slowly did. “Lady Abernant, do you accept the responsibilities and weight of the Elven Throne until my return?”

For a moment, Aelwen wanted to refuse; this… just wasn’t her thing. Doing the Right and Just Thing, that is. So, out of pure principle, she was *going* to say no and force Fabian to devise another plan. Only… She glanced at Lord Fernmyst and then at the rest of the Courtiers. They didn’t seem too pleased…

“I do,” Aelwen said, smiling big and wry as she lifted her skirts and curtsied to Fabian.

Though he knew it was fueled by sarcasm, he didn’t care in the slightest. The only thing left was—

“And what of the approval of the rest of the Court of Stars, Your Majesty? Clearly, not all of its members are present,” Lord Fernmyst asked with another thump of his ornate griffon-headed cane that held a similarly dour expression. “How could Lady Abernant temporarily govern without the Court’s willingness to obey her decrees?”

Umberlee below.

All the wind that had been slowly filling his sails as it seemed more and more likely that he could wriggle out of this conundrum unscathed… abandoned him in an instant. Leaving him with a hollow feeling in his chest and a knot in his throat. This just wasn’t fucking fair. He was the Godsdamned King! He just defended his Kingdom from tyranny minutes ago! Why? Why couldn’t he just have this one thing? This one time?

On the verge of just… saying fuck it all, risking his reputation as a steadfast, reliable ruler, and possibly gifting whatever allies of Everpetal and Blayde a power vacuum on a silver plate, Fabian sighed and went to tell Adaine just to teleport them all out of there when he heard Riz clear his throat.

Glancing down at his Nohecharei and perhaps something else (it’s still too new for labels, right?), he stepped forward, commanding the entire room’s attention once more. Eyebrows furrowed, Fabian quietly asked, “Sir Gukgak?”

“Pardon me, My King,” Riz said, bowing his head toward Fabian before looking up at Lord Fernmyst, dead in his eyes with thin, razor-sharp pupils of his own. Tucking his hands behind his back and standing up ramrod straight in spite of his exhaustion, he held his voice in the same way he’d heard his mother hold hers when she was practicing for a court date.

“While I may not be of the Court of Stars myself, the furthest from it honestly, I have been doing my best to keep up with the ins and outs of its machinations. Big and small. Lord Fernmyst, you seem to imply that His Serene Majesty cannot gather the votes to install Lady Abernant as Queen pro tempore. But! Seeing as you all are the only members currently present and, luckily enough, you seem to represent at least five houses within the Court, I believe with your agreement, this pro tempore leadership can move forward without the need of the entirety of the Court’s presence.” Taking a breath, as the Courtiers all double-checked that there were, in fact, at least five houses present, Riz smiled at Lord Fernmyst and said one last thing, “However, my Lord, please correct me if I’m wrong.”

Fabian could see it. The moment when Fernmyst had realized that he’d been out-maneuvered by a fucking Goblin. But before he could refute, retort, or just… blow up, Fabian put a hand on Riz’s shoulder and caught Fernmyst’s eye. With all the sincerity and truth in his heart, he simply said, “Twenty-four hours. You have my word.”

This close to losing all of his well-kept Elven decorum, Lord Fernmyst was on the edge of spluttering as he huffed and puffed and said words like preposterous and phrases like ‘never in my days!’ when another older voice finally spoke up.

“Oh, Luwarin, just let the poor boy go!” A woman, Wood Elven looking, though only her ears gave her away, who Fabian immediately recognized as Lady Fernmyst, came shuffling up beside her husband. Patting him on the arm as she looped one of hers around his, she, with her green teardrop eyes and ‘just starting to grey’ brown hair, said, “I believe Lady Abernant will do a fine job keeping the Kingdom’s problems on ice until His Majesty returns. All in favour?”

As Lady Fernmyst confidently raised her hand, it became clear by the almost immediately raised hands that while she and her husband shared a similar level of seniority and respect within the Court, she outranked him.

Sighing, Lord Fernmyst levelled a glare at Riz as he reluctantly raised his hand and muttered, “Aye.”

“The Ayes have it!” Fabian called out, his voice echoing throughout the room and down the halls as his heart soared. Barely being able to refrain from letting out a celebratory whoop and fist-pumping the air as he turned back to Aelwen, whom he wanted to pull into a hug, but he settled for taking her hand and giving it a big squeeze. “Queen Aelwen, please keep everything on ice for the next twenty-four hours. Adaine?”

“Already on it,” Adaine said as she began to cast Teleport on the three of them, silvery blue magic gathering in her hands.

“Riz?”

Smiling up at him with stars in his eyes, Riz took his arquebus in hand, doing a little goofy spin as he said, “Let’s kill a fucking dragon.”

As Adaine’s magic began to pick up all around the trio, Fabian found himself being pulled away from the sounds and sights of the throne room and brought across the Celestine Sea in the blink of an eye. However, one of the last things that hit Fabian’s ears just before they were well and truly gone from Falinel was a few words from Lord Fernmyst to his wife. And, he had to admit, they sent shivers down his spine in a kind of fear that was not even matched when he was faced with a massive, teeth-gnashing, fire-breathing dragon moments later.

“If we want him to stay put here, we must find him a proper Queen. And soon.”

#week after reblog!!

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