my soul to keep

you are terrifying and strange and beautiful

Ronin doesn't see the small quarters he's been assigned. He doesn't see the plain walls, the modest window, the single and neatly made bed. It doesn't register that this is special treatment, that having been a soldier, he ought to have expected a bunk in with all the othes. None of it matters. After his encounter with Doctor Hart, it takes only a moonlit walk alone back to the Dragon's Nest to drag him back into melancholy, and he all but collapses into bed, barely bothering to kick off his shoes.

He can't force himself to sleep like Remi can, and so his anticipation to just be dreaming takes an infuriatingly long time; Ronin is almost to the point of tears when exhaustion finally snatches him up. And so it's into the dark he plummets, his desperation and impatience to see his husband setting him fiercely aglow to the point where he doesn't need to think about it. "Remi?" he calls. "Gods, please be asleep."

The huntsman

you trace my lines, stirring my soul

Remi has been asleep for hours. After pacing about both inside the wagon and out, Ianto finally told him just to go to bed. The fox would look after Mateo. It didn't take much convincing (Remi would deal with the guilt later); sinking into the bed and not even bothering with the covers, the alchemist roughly thrust himself into the dreamworld.

It was empty. He was here first. That was to be expected, though it didn't help the alchemist's frayed nerves. Still, better he pace around here than in the woods.

Rather than a world of his making or the home he'd built for himself and the Star, the Lullaby stood in a wasteland of white. Walls and mountains rose and crumbled around him as his frantic mind tried to latch onto something which might distract it, before immediately giving up and letting his creations fall to dust.

"Ronin—" He's suddenly at the Star's side, the light from his husband an easy and immediate beacon to follow. Sweeping him into a tight hug that threatened to be permanent, the alchemist burries his head against his husbadn shoulder, unsure whether he wanted to cry, or laugh, or scream.

THE ALCHEMIST

you are terrifying and strange and beautiful

"Oh, gods--" It's a decision already made for Ronin, the Star turning into the sound of his husband's voice already in tears. He catches him in the hug, gripping him tightly in return, and beneath his feet the world thrums with colour and warmth. Rustic boards and curved ceilings replace the stark, white mountains, and Ronin decorates the Wishing Wagon of his dreams in as much fierce detail as he can remember. He wants so much to go home to Remi, but this will have to do for now.

Tilting his head to rest it against Remi's curls, he holds him as close as he dares, inhaling the scent of him, imagining the woods outside, the moonlight, the smoke of the fire drifting into the wagon, the kettle whistling. "I miss you so much," he whispers. "I'll find my way back to you. I promise."

The huntsman

you trace my lines, stirring my soul

Hardly able to stand it—and then quite literally unable to do so—the alchemist's legs buckle and he tumbles against his husband, dragging them both to their knees. Through tears and held-back sobs, Remi shakes his head, mumbling curses and pleas into the fabric of his husband's jacket.

"I don't want to do this without you again." This; raising a child? Living alone? Just..living? Snuffling in a breath, this weepy and broken man not looking at all like he belonged in the muscular body he inhabited, eventually Remi pulled back, regarding his husband with tear-bright eyes. "But you're alright? In Stormbreak?"

THE ALCHEMIST

you are terrifying and strange and beautiful

Ronin wants to respond - wants to say me neither, or to offer anything, but the reality of it caves in on him and he's unable to do much more than clutch Remi close, crying hard and silently into his embrace. He doesn't want to do this again. To miss another childhood, to be an absentee father for a third time. It isn't fair, and it isn't kind, and it isn't for the greater good. And he fucking hates it, in ways he can't ever say or describe to those in the place where he's found himself.

Remi draws back and Ronin smooths his curls out of his face with gentle, calloused hands, cupping his cheeks and leaning his forehead against the other man's. "I'm holding up," he whispers. It's not the same as alright, but it's more truthful than just blind agreement. "I'm in barracks. I've got... my own space. It's all very grey," he explains, though the truth is, compared to now, he barely remembers it.

The dream is more vibrant by far than the reality, and Ronin draws his husband in again, slumping back to sit on the ground so he can gather Remi as close as he can. "How's Mateo? The Greatwood?"

The huntsman

you trace my lines, stirring my soul

Remi pulls in Ronin's flow of emotions like a riptide forming below freezing waters. Based on Ronin's previous reaction, back ... wherever they had all been, the alchemist had been worried that Ronin agreed. That he too thought this all for the best, and that Remi was overreacting.

Forehead against forehead, Remi's eyes slip shut and he breathes in the scent of Ronin. His warmth. His familiarity. For the moment the alchemist forbids himself to think of how little all of this means, how Ronin can smell and feel however he wants to in this place, in this moment. He lets himself believe the lie, if only for today. Maybe tomorrow as well.

The Star's description means little. Remi is unable to picture the barracks, having never been a soldier, and so the image he conjures in his mind is one of eternal rain and barred windows. Fitting himself into the spaces left open by the Star, Remi smiles weakly as he wraps his arms around Ronin's shoulders. "He knows you're gone. He keeps looking around for you." Swallowing hard, tilting his chin up as if gravity might pull the sob back down his throat, Remi squeezes his eyes shut. "I'll bring him next time. He won't grow up with you. Tonight I just..." His voice trails off in broken syllables that stop trying to be words after only a few failed attempts.

"At least I'm sane, this time around." He manages after a moment.

THE ALCHEMIST

you are terrifying and strange and beautiful

Agreement is far from Ronin's opinion on the whole mess - he's livid and raw and hateful about all of it, but at the time it had been in the Star's best interests to try and stop his husband from being smited by a vengeful God of Life. Now, though? He lets himself crack and break against Remi, trying for a smile to hear that Mateo is looking for him, but it crumbles into more tears, letting out a shuddering breath. "Tonight is just about me and you," he agrees with a gentle nod.

Arms slipping around the Lullaby, Ronin thinks nothing of rising to his feet with Remi wrapped all around him, moving to slump down in their bed so he can sink against the wall, the pillows, with the other man still in his lap. Warm fingers try to sneak under his shirt, to run up the length of his spine, as if to tempt out wings. "They didn't even give us time to say goodbye," he whispers.

At least Remi is sane, though. At least they can stay in touch, even if it is just a shared dream.

The huntsman

you trace my lines, stirring my soul

The dreamworld bends and breaks, allowing them to do whatever it is they want. The gesture is as sweet as it is devastating: strong as Ronin is, in reality he'd not so neatly be able to fold Remi up and carry him off as he was. This wasn't real. Because they weren't together.

Again.

Shuddering into the touch, craving it desperately and knowing that the memory of it will haunt his waking moments, Remi reciprocates the gesture. Wandering fingers slink beneath the huntsman's shirt, combing over ever bit of blemished and marked skin. "We're just...blips to them." Remi complains into his husband's shoulder. There is a question on his tongue that he can't bring himself to ask, so for the moment he only concerns himself with trailing his fingers up and down Ronin's back that he might coax goosebumps and shivers from his husband's skin.

THE ALCHEMIST

you are terrifying and strange and beautiful

Perhaps it makes Ronin more optimistic than his husband, but even though they aren't actually together, this is better than never together. Better than watching the world sail by in a sea of stars. Better than never being able to communicate, to connect. So he sinks into the moment, humming appreciatively into the reciprocated touches, the Star relishing how real Remi feels even if he knows it can't be true. "That will always be the case," he mutters, not wanting to really talk about the gods.

But the Lullaby's silence - and its effects on the dreamworld - make it an elephant in the room that might well become real should his mind latch onto it for too long. "Something on your mind?" he asks softly, pressing his lips against soft curls, arching his back against the fingers that chase up his spine.

The huntsman

you trace my lines, stirring my soul

Remi knows this body better than his own. He knows its topography, how it responds to his various touches. He's learned how hard he can dig his claws in (metaphorically and literally), and what leaves bruises behind. Even so, Remi also knows he could spend an entire lifetime exploring it just the same. I always think I could never love you more...and then somehow I do. This is sadly thought, as if the exponential trajectory of Remi's love for the Star was a burden. It wasn't of course, but gods if he didn't love the idiot in his arms so much, this would all be a lot easier.

"How long?" Remi asks finally, pulling himself back to gaze into the warm blues of Ronin's eyes. "How long do you think?" Was it until defences had been set up? Until the war was started? Until it was won ?

How long until we're together again?

THE ALCHEMIST

you are terrifying and strange and beautiful

Shut up, Ronin thinks adoringly back to his husband, and as Remi sits back and warm blue meets pale green, he can't wipe the smile from his face. It's still there when he leans in for a gentle kiss, both their cheeks still streaked with tears, the imaginary Wishing Wagon around them warbling and shimmering as Ronin's concentration is stolen away. I love you too. I'm worried about you, and I love you, and I miss you. Each sentiment is punctuated by another kiss.

"Mm..." Ronin sighs, drawing back enough to let the mild horror of the question sink into his thoughts like a poison. But he hardens, then, a crooked sort of smile on his face. "Don't know how long until this is over," he says quietly. "But I do know that I'm going to spend time with you, in the Greatwood, before the end of Deepfrost. I'm going to make it happen, and I don't care what it takes." Because even if the world can't give them timescales, he can make some for himself. It's the only thing that will keep him sane.

The huntsman

you trace my lines, stirring my soul

I'll be alright Would he? With the Woods around him, Remi was poised to fully lose himself in the task he'd been given. With only the fae for company, (sorry Ianto, you're out for obvious reasons), the alchemist was likely just to twist and turn in on himself as he had done when first he and Ronin had been flung into Torchline. At least the Greatwood was empty of random citizens, the fae at least being a fighty enough race to deal with his violence. Probably.

Before the end of Deepfrost. The words are like lemon juice poured over vocal chords screamed raw. Remi's jaw feathers as his teeth grind together, holding back threats of violence and plans to usurp the gods.

"Once...I've done what I need to for Ludo...I wonder if I couldn't follow a raven to where you are. I can outfly them, I know that.." But was such a thing even possible? Flying across an entire continent with only a bird for guidance? Or did the creatures have some special route through which he couldn't follow?

THE ALCHEMIST

you are terrifying and strange and beautiful

"Remi..." Ronin's voice is kind and sad, and he reaches out to carefully brush a thumb over the scruff of his husband's cheek. "I don't want you to get hurt. Or lost. Or to leave Mateo alone." Leaning in, he kisses the other man's forehead. "There are some things we just... we can't fight this. Not by being stubborn." Flexibility is not really in his husband's vocabulary (unless it's to do with sex or fighting), but digging their heels in when the orders have come from so high above is going to end badly.

"I will see you every night. Every single night. I know you don't think it's worth it, because it's a dream, but..." His throat grows tight, the Star shrugging helplessly at Remi. "This is more of you than I had when I was dead. And I will see you again, in person. As soon as I can. I need you to look after yourself."

The huntsman

you trace my lines, stirring my soul

Ronin's voice snaps the alchemist out of his hate-filled reverie, but only by degrees. 'I won't get hurt.' Because...well. He was at the point where he couldn't. Not physically, anyway, not that that was what Ronin meant. The comment about stubbornness has the alchemist flinching slightly and biting down on his tongue lest he snarl his husband's way. "I can still hate it, even if there's nothing I can do." The Lullaby says, softly seething. Not unlike those first days in Torchline, Remi is like a bed of coals, where even the tiniest breath had the potential to ignite his fires. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little annoyed at Ronin's complacent acceptance of this entire situation. The Star wasn't wrong of course, Remi just wasn't ready to be so level-headed about it all quite yet. (If ever).

'It isn't that it isn't worth it." Remi corrects automatically. "Just that...it isn't like being with you." Sighing and letting his head flop forward onto Ronin's shoulder, Remi gives it one miserable shake before slumping bonelessly against his husband. "I'll try."

THE ALCHEMIST