Chapter Text
It hadn’t taken too long for Karkat to figure out how to undo the enchantment which keeps him trapped in his forest. Only a couple decades (give or take a few years), and the only reason he hasn’t ‘freed’ himself is that he doesn’t mind having an excuse not to go to The Court. Considering how long it’s taken for the rest of his clan to come back, he’s glad not to be there. A bunch of stuffy blowhards anyway who are quick to take offense (or pretend to when it suits them). More annoying than that, though, is how they all think they’re so clever because they manage to fuck over idiot mortals this way and that.
Last time he went, he’d had his ear talked off by this asshole showing off her pet first born human that she’d exchanged a ‘boon’ for. The boon had been reversing a curse on the pet human’s progenitor’s household caused by the asshole herself due to some horrible offense they had given her. Honestly, Karkat had done his best not to listen to the vapid details: he wished he’d been able to block out the sight of her pet’s glamour blinded eyes as easily.
But probably the dumbest thing any of those shit heads brag about is stealing mortals’ names.
What the fuck do you even do with mortal names once you have them besides wax obnoxious about how fucking dumb humans are? Sure, having someone’s name gives you power over them, but humans are pathetic, and they don’t live very long, so what’s the point. There’s not much pride to be found from taking advantage of the ignorant and the stupid is all Karkat’s saying.
Not to say Karkat hasn’t taken his own share of names. Of course he has—it’s expected, and it’d be lying to say it’s not fun!—, but he doesn’t keep them. He gives them back… most of the time. It’s not his fault that some humans don’t understand simple directions like, “Return to me when the full moon crests the mountain, and I’ll return to you what is no longer yours.” You have to talk that way to mortals or else they’ll have no hope of understanding at all. Plain speech just seems to frighten them.
Or maybe it’s the volume he uses. Unlike flora, fauna is sensitive to that kind of thing. The trees don’t give a shit if he speaks at a comfortable volume, but it frightens the deer every fucking time. Deer are flighty anyway, though, and not much for conversation. There’s only so many times Karkat can discuss the merits of grazing in the field versus the forest before he gets sick of it.
It makes him wish the humans he saw outside the line of trees would come into his forest more often.
Karkat is barred from walking the path they take through his forest, of course. The ‘protection’ was woven into the very stones which make it up long before even Karkat became aware, and though the path itself is crumbling, the power remains strong. He could lure the humans off the path like other members of his clan do, but that strikes Karkat as unsporting. With all the advantages he already has, it’s not fair to tempt humans who are following the rules away from this semblance of ‘safety’. Might as well drag them into mushroom circles while he’s at it!
So, he contents himself with only watching from where they can’t see him, waiting for one of them to step away from the path. It’s been a while since the last time that’s happened, but even when he doesn’t get the chance to talk to one, he still enjoys getting to see them go about their business in his forest. They’re like… snowflakes: fragile, short-lived, numerous. Appearing as an indistinguishable mass of sameness from far away but individual and unique up close. He usually comes close enough to hear snippets of conversation, and snatches of song, and he wonders what it must be like to have such mundane concerns.
He wonders what it must be like to have such little time.
-
Like most things that have gone wrong in his life, this is all Rose’s fault. She’s the one who’s desperate to prove her nonexistent expertise in witchcraft, so much so that she sent him off to the neighboring town to pick up some ingredients because her own had spoiled. Dave wouldn’t have agreed except that she somehow managed to guilt and taunt him all in one passive-aggressive monologue.
But whatever. Dave isn’t scared of the forest.
She sent him off with a reminder not to stray from the path and not to give away his name. Dave rolled his eyes, donned his red cloak, and set off. Everyone knows that the Fey haven’t been seen for centuries. There are people who believe they never existed at all.
Still, he keeps to the path. The sun shines through the tree leaves as he walks, the birds sing and the river babbles from not too far away. Dave makes sure to treasure the quiet away from his home, where there’s always something happening.
It’s a hotter than average day, and there are parts of the path that are overgrown. He has to climb over them and it builds up a thirst, and by the time the sun is at its peak he’s already gone through his water supply. He refuses to dehydrate himself for the sake of his sister’s potion. He can hear the river nearby and licks his lips, pausing his steps.
The Fey haven’t been seen for centuries. They might not have ever existed at all.
He steps off the path.
-
Karkat is in the middle of a long—and frankly, boring as fuck—discussion about the ‘good old days’ back when ‘the air was cleaner’ and the ‘water was fresher’ with a half-senile oak tree infested with bore beetles, when he feels the subtle shift that he’s been waiting for. While he doesn’t know everything that happens in his forest (his interest in what leaf falls where and which particular insect is eaten by whatever specific fish has never been terribly great), he does pay special attention to the area around the path. He always has. When his clan is here, he tries to intercept whatever mortal is foolish enough to wander off it before another member of his clan can. He loves his clan, of course he does, but they can be cruel when they’re bored. Which is often.
Case in point, the fact that he was enchanted to stay in his forest in the first place.
Not that an unwary mortal is safe off the path even when his clan isn’t around. This forest has been home to Fey for so long, it’s developed its own magic, and the forest can be just as unforgiving and spiteful as those who dwell within it. Old trees can shift their roots to trip and drop rotten logs on heads, younger trees can move to cover tracks and make it impossible for a mortal to find their way out again, and the very ground itself sometimes will open up to swallow a human whole.
After extracting himself from the conversation with the oak—an arduous process made even more so by his impatience—, Karkat sets off for the river with some speed. The river is a beautiful place, like a spider’s web, and just as treacherous. Stones shift under steady feet, reeds tangle careful legs, and suddenly swift currents drag under even the strongest. If Karkat’s lucky, he can catch the human before it falls in. If not, he can look forward to an annoying argument with the river where maybe he’ll be able to get the human before it drowns.
The human’s brilliant red cloak stands out like a fire, bright even surrounded by the dark shadows thrown by the trees. It bends down at the river’s edge, a bottle of some kind in its hand, and Karkat waits, not wanting to startle it into the water. He’s close enough that, should the river attempt a trick, he could catch the human before it falls, and the river knows it. Karkat has to smirk at its disappointment.
Once the human successfully fills its bottle and drinks (the water is safe to drink—at least, the fauna never have any problems drinking it), it and its red cloak turn back, presumably, the way it came. As tempting as it is to talk to it now, Karkat waits. If he helps it now, it won’t learn anything. Let it realize it’s lost. Let it fear for its mortal life. Then it’ll understand how important it is to stay on the path.
Karkat does keep the trees from doing more than attempting to trip the human. He doesn’t want it to get hurt.
The human seems nervous almost immediately. It keeps looking over its shoulder and mumbling to itself as it makes its way through now unfamiliar trees that subtly twist it further and further away from the path. Karkat thinks it might be a male human, but he’s made that mistake before—female humans can get shrill when they’re offended. He gets closer and closer to the human, watching it intently for just the right moment to step in.
How to do it this time?
The old beggar schtick is fun, but maybe it’ll be more instructive if he shows himself as he is this time. Though, that can be a lot to take in: he doesn’t see it himself, but apparently, humans find fey terribly beautiful and beautifully terrible. Everlasting perfection is probably difficult to comprehend as an imperfect and fleeting mortal.
The sweat on the human’s brow isn’t all from its exertions as it stops by a tree and mutters to itself. The sun is hanging low in the sky, and the shadows are darkening, darkening enough to dull even the red cloak. The forest is tense with Karkat’s anticipation, and he’s tired of waiting.
He steps out into the realm of mortal sight and smiles. “You have strayed far from the path, child. Did no one tell you how dangerous it is to wander in a forest of the Fey?”
-
The river water is cold and quenches his thirst. He drinks what he can and fills his flask, tucking it away for later before he turns to head back the way he came. There’s a creeping feeling crawling over him as he walks, like someone is watching him. It’s just paranoia, he tells himself. There’s nothing in this forest but him and some animals. He stumbles a few times on tree roots that hadn’t been there before, he swears.
It doesn’t take long for him to realize something is wrong. It’s a straight line back to the path, but after walking for a few minutes he hasn’t reached it yet. He scowls, turning in a circle, but nothing looks familiar.
What is happening? Did he get turned around somehow? Dave heads back to the river only to find he can’t locate that, either, and there’s a heavy weight on his shoulders as he realizes he might be fucked. He takes a sip from his flask and keeps moving, the shadows of the forest becoming more and more oppressive as time passes.
By the time the sun is beginning to set, Dave is on the way to truly panicking. When a voice comes from behind him he jumps violently, spinning around and just barely maintaining his balance.
“Shit, man,” he says. “Don’t you make any noise when you walk?”
It’s only after these words leave him that he realizes what he’s seeing. A tall, grey skinned man with sharp teeth and sharper claws. His hair is the color of ink and his features are exaggerated, like he walked straight out of a drawing.
“Um,” Dave says. He can’t seem to look away from the creature’s shining eyes. “What was that?”
-
The human’s eyes are the same brilliant red as its cloak, and Karkat takes a moment to appreciate them. Beautiful. Perhaps this human has had dealings with the Fey before, or maybe it's descended from a line of human mages. Either way, this could be more interesting than he thought it’d be. The way it talks is strange, though it has been some time since Karkat has spoken to a human, so they could all talk this way now.
Already, Karkat has some measure of control over it just by holding its gaze. It wouldn’t do to avert his own eyes, and he doesn’t want to. He’ll just have to be careful, that’s all. He’ll also have to forgive it for not paying attention—it’s his own fault for showing himself in all his glory. Even so, he hears a hint of frustration in his tone: who likes having to repeat themselves? Ruins his entrance besides. “I said: You have strayed far from the path, child. Did no one tell you how dangerous it is to wander in a forest of the Fey?” He tilts his head. “Or are you just a fool?”
-
Dave barely pays attention the second time the creature speaks. His body is tense, his heart is pounding, and something is telling him to run the fuck away, but his feet are rooted to the forest floor. The thing in front of him is undoubtedly beautiful, but it’s dangerous.
It also has a very hypnotic voice. Dave considers asking him to repeat himself once more, just to hear it again.
“Oh,” he says when the words sink in. “I didn’t really think you guys were here anymore? Everyone always says to stick to the path but it’s been like, hundreds of years since anyone’s seen anything fey in this forest.”
He swallows down his nervousness and wishes he would have brought something more than two small knives to defend himself.
“I was thirsty,” Dave explains, shrugging awkwardly. He tries to take a step backwards and finds, to his surprise, his body obeys. He waves vaguely in the direction he thinks the path might be in. “Anyway, nice talking to you. I’ll just be going now.”
-
A fool then, though the fact that the human can back away means there’s something special about it besides its eyes. Karkat feels himself frown. Hundreds of years? Has it really been that long since he’s talked to a human? Perhaps. His clan has been gone longer still. It hadn’t occurred to him until this moment to wonder why they’ve been at The Court for so long. Of course, that’s neither here nor there, what with this idiot human bound and determined to get itself killed.
“Going where, exactly? You think you can find your own way out of this forest?” He makes an effort to smile again in a way he believes will be more comforting. Clearly, it’s afraid of him. As it should be, naturally, but that makes it hard to help it. “I can assure you that you will not.” Then, because he’s certain that anyone foolish enough to leave the path of their own accord will be foolish enough to fall for the oldest fucking trick in the fucking book and he wants a reason to see this human again, he says, “I can lead you back to the path, child. You need only give me your name.”
-
Dave isn’t sure what’s happening here. The tone of voice and the small smile aren’t threatening, but the hairs on the back of his neck are standing up like the man just threatened to peel his flesh off and eat it.
He freezes when the fey asks for his name. He recalls Rose’s voice saying never ever give away your name followed shortly by are you listening, Dave? but he can’t remember what he’s supposed to say instead. Fey are sticklers for politeness, aren’t they? Fuck, why did he never pay attention to this shit.
“Uh,” he says, trying to think quickly. “Give me yours first.”
-
Karkat blinks. Of all the responses he’d expected (the main one being that this idiot would just give him its name), he hadn’t expected that. It’s certainly an interesting move, trying to play the Fey’s game, he guesses. Most humans can’t do much with names—they simply don’t have the power—, but this human is something special. He narrows his eyes. “You want my name?” The sheer audacity of it! “You honestly expect me to give you my name.” If it weren’t so hilarious, he’d probably be insulted.
-
Did Dave just seriously fuck up? The fey seems taken aback, and Dave knows fuck all about what they even do with names. Maybe he just insulted the guy’s entire family tree or something.
“Yes?” he tries. “We can trade. A name for a name.”
He forces himself into a more casual stance. “I mean, it’s fine if you don’t want to. It’s a big responsibility and all that. I get it.”
He hopes this sounds like he knows what he’s talking about and not like he’s making it up on the spot.
-
“Trade?” Even as he says the word, there’s only one thing it can mean. Karkat’s eyes widen and his face flushes and holy shit, he knew mortals moved quickly, but this—!
It ought to be an insult. It ought to be an offense that this mortal would ever think it was worthy, but Karkat’s charmed. He’s flattered. It’s such a romantic move to make, something that very few Fey ever want to risk, and something he never expected to experience. The human says it’s a big responsibility so blithely, too. It’s a monumental step to take, and he just barely met this human. He doesn’t even know what gender it is—this is moving so fast, irresponsibly fast, and he should just turn it down, perhaps curse it for the presumption, but...
But Karkat likes its red eyes, and Karkat doesn’t like being alone. He smiles widely, unable to control the sudden burst of happiness he feels at the thought of having this human by his side to keep the loneliness at bay. “Yes!” He sounds too eager, and he doesn’t care. “Yes, we can trade.” It’s strange to come so close to a human, to wrap his arm around its shoulders, but it’s appropriate, considering. It feels like embracing a fireball.
As much as he’d like to do it now, keep the human with him now, there are preparations to make, and the human probably has other humans to say goodbye to. It’s the least Karkat can do in exchange for such a gift. “Return to me when the moon is full, and we can finalize our union under the witness of the stars.” Again, it’s fast, but clearly, this is what the human wants, so Karkat presses his lips to the human’s cheek. “A charm for luck, my betrothed.”
A charm to keep the human safe and to ensure its return.
-
Okay, damn, Dave clearly did something right because the fey is suddenly beaming at him and it’s so much, he can’t look away. It’s painfully beautiful, and Dave remembers stories whispered to him in the night when he was a child, about humans falling to their knees and weeping in awe and terror at the sight of a fey, and suddenly he can believe it.
It takes a lot not to flinch away when the creature approaches, moving silently. He’s embraced and he can’t even breathe while the fey is so close. Dave’s eyes are wide and he can barely hear the fey’s voice over the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears, and his face flushes when the creature kisses his cheek.
“Th-thanks,” he stammers, before the rest sinks in. Betrothed?! “Yeah, uh, could you point me in the direction of the path? So I can, um, go… get ready for that.”
-
It is so tempting to hold onto the human a little longer, so Karkat does, sliding his hand down its arm in order to hold its hand. He feels light, like he does when he walks on the fog, but his feet are solidly on the ground, and he glances down just to be certain. “Of course, beloved. This way.”
Unlike when it was wandering alone, the human—his human!—is silent, and the palm against his grows damp, but it doesn’t resist Karkat’s pull as he guides it along to the path. They reach it after only a few minutes: without his help, the human would have wandered for hours, days, with no hope of ever stepping foot out of the forest again. He hopes it appreciates that now.
The path is in front of them, and Karkat reluctantly lets go of its hand. “I can go no further. Try to stay on the path this time. When it’s time for your return, stay on the path and call out for your betrothed, and I will come to claim you.” He makes a sign with his hands in the shape of the leaves of a lime tree, which, for some odd reason, humans associate with love. “I will make this sign, and you will know it’s me. Do not step off the path for anyone else.”
Unfortunately, as charmed as he is by his human, Karkat knows it’s a foolish creature. And some of that is simply a part of its nature. He smiles gently. “If I have said anything you do not understand, now is the time to tell me.”
-
Beloved. Jesus.
Dave keeps his mouth firmly shut as the fey takes his hand and guides him through the trees. He doesn’t trust himself not to somehow make this worse. His palm quickly grows sweaty and he hysterically hopes that the fey won’t take offense to that.
It takes barely five minutes for them to reach the path. Dave has been trekking all over this forest for hours and the fey leads him here in minutes. He doesn’t know if he’s impressed or angry about it.
The man lets go of his hand and takes a small step away. Dave feels a pang of guilt at the reluctance clear on his face, but puts it down to whatever enchantment the fey carries with him.
And then he goes and makes a heart with his hands and Dave knows that no one will ever, ever believe him.
“Uh, no. I understand,” he says. He swallows thickly. “Thanks. For your help.”
Hesitantly, he leans forward. He has to stand on his tiptoes to press a quick, awkward kiss to the fey’s cheek, hoping that will sell whatever this is.
“I’ll, um, see you later,” he mutters, face hot as he steps away, back to the safety of the path.
He feels a heavy gaze on him the entire way back to town. Fuck Rose and fuck her stupid potion. Dave is never setting foot inside this forest again.
-
This human is so full of surprises! Karkat slowly brings his hand up to his cheek, still feeling the searing heat of that gentle touch even as his human starts walking down the path away from him. Naturally, he follows it, unseen, as far as he can, just to make sure it doesn’t take any other foolish risks.
It doesn’t.
Karkat returns to the middle of the forest, still floating from the proposal and the kiss. He’s already decided he’s keeping his human as long as he can. It will be painful to prepare that particular boon, a boon to tie their existences together, but pain means only slightly more than time, which is to say, not much at all. Honestly, it’s probably for the best that his clan is still doing whatever they’re doing at The Court: they’d laugh themselves sick at him for going to this much trouble for a mortal, and the less kind ones would only be too eager to try to steal his blood and hair. He wouldn’t let them, of course, but they’d try, and that’d be insult enough.
As focused as he is on the task, he doesn’t notice the days passing into weeks passing into months passing into years. Time is slippery to the Fey, and this particular Fey is no exception. He knows his human is safe, knows it's alive thanks to his charm, and that’s enough to sustain him even after his task is finished, and there’s nothing left to do but wait.
And wait.
And wait.
-
Rose doesn’t believe him. She listens to his entire story and then coldly tells him off for making up lies and ruining her potion. She gives him the cold shoulder for weeks, but eventually she begins to thaw and things go back to normal.
Dave often finds himself looking in the direction of the forest, wondering what the fey is up to. Every time he catches himself doing this he shakes his head and forces his attention back to his work; he does portraits for the elite. They say it’s uncanny how he manages to capture their likeness and pay very well. Well enough for him to support himself and his sister while she dabbles in witchcraft.
Unfortunately Dave does not have the same control over himself when he’s asleep. Months after he met the fey in the forest, he wakes up to find himself outside, about ten paces from the open door. He quickly runs back, slamming the door shut behind him.
That has never happened before. But it happens again, and then again. Weeks or months will pass with no night time wanderings, and then he’ll wake up outside, moonlight at his back as he walks the path from their house. He gets farther and farther, and eventually he has to tell Rose.
“I think the fey cursed me,” Dave admits to her.
“Right,” she says skeptically, but there’s concern in her gaze.
The years pass and the frequency of his sleeping escapades increases, until one night he wakes to a hand slapping him across the face. He steps back, a hand coming up to rub at his cheek.
“Jesus, Rose,” he complains. “What was that for?”
And then he notices the dark, and the backdrop of trees, and his face pales.
“Shit,” he says.
-
Although Karkat often feels lonely and bored, he's never truly alone nor does he ever truly have nothing to do. Every tree and flower clamor for his attention; every bird and beast vie for his notice. He's the only Fey in this forest, and what used to be spread among different members of his clan now fall onto him alone. It’s not hard or even work, but it can be tedious being the one and only sympathetic ear around. Especially when he could use one of those himself.
He’s not pining for his betrothed, but his human lingers in his thoughts like the sweet smell of wild roses carried by the breeze. Brilliant red eyes, searing soft lips, and a promise made that’s waiting to be kept. Though he has some impressions of the mortal thanks to his charm, it’s mostly just the sense of its continued existence unharmed.
Which is good. Mortals are fragile things, subject to more than just the wounds of time, and it’s good that his charm is keeping it safe until its return to him.
It’s just that the return part is taking longer than it should, and now that he’s finished working on his boon, it’s becoming more and more obvious that this is the case. While he doesn’t know why his human hasn’t returned yet, it doesn’t matter: Even a being to whom time is meaningless can get tired of waiting.
Karkat is patient, more patient than many of his kind, but his patience has limits.
So, when the moon is full, he reaches for his charm, for his human, and pulls.
~
The intention was to lead his human into the very middle of his forest, where he dwells, but it’s slow to arrive, and Karkat is impatient. He follows the sensation of his charm, light on his feet, eager, honestly, too eager to see his human again. Before long, he sees it.
Karkat should be alarmed by how the sight of the mortal affects him, drawing him like a plant moving to soak up the light from a long unseen sun, but he isn’t thinking. He’s only reacting. Which is why, in his eagerness, he doesn’t notice that it’s not alone.
“Well met by moonlight, beloved!” he greets grandly, his voice practically booming in the quiet stillness around them. He moves to embrace it… and then he sees what he should have seen before. Drawing back, he regards the interloper with suspicion. Another human? It looks similar to his, same blonde hair, same general shape to its face, but its eyes are a rich violet. Definitely magical, possibly dangerous.
“And hello to you, too, little one,” he says after a moment. Even uninvited guests cannot be treated with rudeness. “What occasion causes you to come out and wander about my forest with my betrothed?” If he, perhaps, emphasizes the relationship between himself and his human, it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do under the circumstances. He is merely reaffirming his claim on what is his; he is absolutely not jealous of this other human or the way it’s standing too close to his.
-
Shitshitshitshit!
The fey appears before Rose can even open her mouth to ask him what the fuck is going on. He doesn’t seem murderous, at least, though he eyes Rose with poorly concealed jealousy and Dave is struck with a sudden fear for her.
“She’s my sister!” he says, voice too loud in the quiet forest. “She—uh—she accompanied me to be sure I was safe. Brothers and sisters are very important to humans.”
Jesus, he sounds bonkers. Hopefully the fey won’t know any better.
Rose looks to be doing much better than himself. She recovers quickly from her surprise and now there’s a hungry look on her face as she observes the fey.
“You must be the man my brother spoke about,” she says evenly, like she didn’t mock him for his claims all those years ago. “His… betrothed.”
Right. Betrothed. How the fuck is he supposed to get out of this? Dave avoids looking directly at the fey, not wanting to be pulled under his enchantment again. Rose’s safety is his primary goal right now, and he’ll be useless if he can’t even move, too stunned by the fey’s beauty.
-
Though familial relations aren’t something the Fey have the way mortals do, Karkat thinks he understands the concept of brothers and sisters. Humans who are born to the same progenitors. This usually means that their interest in each other tends not to be romantic, though he doesn’t quite understand why. Which doesn’t matter because it’s not as though he was jealous anyway.
He offers the sister a slight incline of the head. “I am no man, but he will be mine as I will be his.” It’s nice to know what kind of a thing his human is! “You took a great risk to follow him into the forest, off of the path.” It’s not a thank you, because she’s done nothing worthy of his gratitude, just an acknowledgment of her bravery. “You must care about him a great deal.”
Then he turns to his betrothed. Although it is disappointing that he isn’t meeting Karkat’s gaze with his red eyes, Karkat doesn’t take offense. A fool his beloved may be, but at least he is a fool who can be taught.
However, the obvious terror the sister’s brother feels is a metaphorical slap to the face. It has been some time since they’d last spoken, true, but Karkat has done nothing to warrant such a response from his human, and he would never destroy something precious, and he would certainly never destroy something precious which belongs to him.
Then again, he and his betrothed know so little about one another. And there are other Fey, Fey he knows personally, who routinely destroy their own things in fits of boredom and rage. The annoyance which had been building like a fire loses kindling and goes out. Of course his human is frightened! Karkat will simply have to be patient and prove to him that he will be treated well. Although he probably won’t be believed on just the strength of his word before they finalize their union and ‘trade’ names, that’s all he has right now. “There’s naught to fear, my love. You will be perfectly safe with me.”
-
Even without looking him in the eyes, Dave can feel some of the enchantment roll over him from the fey’s words alone. It’s not enough to drown out his frantic heartbeat, but it’s there nonetheless.
“I’m afraid for my sister, not myself,” Dave says. Rose somehow manages to tear her eyes away from the fey to stare at him. “You’re right, she risked a lot to keep me safe. Can you please return her to the path?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Rose says firmly, expression thunderous. She turns back to the fey and gives a brittle smile. “Family is very important to humans such as ourselves. So much so that unions typically require permission from a parent to be allowed. However, our parents have long since passed on, which leaves the responsibility to me.”
For fuck’s sake. Just once, could Rose let him take care of her?
“Before I can allow this, I need to know what all it entails,” she continues. Her eyes are shining with curiosity. “So tell me, what exactly does marriage mean to the fey?”
-
Karkat takes a moment to consider her words. Families are very important, she says. Are they? Progenitors, parents?, often trade their offspring for this favor or that, and most humans don’t even notice when their offspring are replaced with changelings. But is that because they don’t care or because they’re just so fucking dumb?
However, it’s the idea that his human needs permission from another human for this union that gives him pause. He’s never heard of such a thing. Mortals are backwards, but this is… it’s nearly inconceivable. “Do you mean to say that my betrothed could give me his name without your permission, getting nothing in return except for a lesson on how to be more cautious with something precious, but he cannot trade his name for mine, getting my protection and attention until the end of time, unless you decree it can be so?” Just saying it out loud makes him feel like the stupidity of the notion could infect him with its idiocy.
No, despite how seriously she’s taking this and how honest she sounds, that cannot be right. He shakes his head, dismissive. “That does not make any sense at all. Your brother is his own person who can make his own choices, is he not? I realize he is a fool, but even a fool has a right to make decisions for themself.”
-
“Wha—A fool?” Dave says, insulted, as Rose laughs. He scowls at her. It’s all well and good for her, she’s not the one about to be married to a stranger ‘until the end of time.’
“Well,” Rose says. “It’s not very usual for a human to marry a fey. And while there is nothing beyond tradition and loyalty preventing him from going ahead without my permission, I think you’ll find that my brother is very loyal.”
At that, both of them look to Dave. Rose expectantly, the fey with a disbelieving scowl.
“My sister’s opinion is very important to me,” he admits. Is she trying to get him out of this with half-truths about human traditions? If anyone can outwit a fey, it would be Rose.
-
Then maybe you should have thought of that before asking to trade names! Karkat doesn’t say. He already knew his human was a fool, so it’s useless to ask why he didn’t think of something, isn’t it? And it’s equally useless to be frustrated by this unexpected obstacle, in both senses of the word.
Nothing obligates him to humor the brother or the sister. He’s a Fey—it’s practically an offense to demand he debase himself as though he were the mortal seeking a boon! In fact, it would be simplicity itself to just take his human with him and leave his sister to the not so tender mercies of the forest.
His human wouldn’t like it, obviously, but that would be easy enough to deal with, too. Karkat knows the magick that would make him forget he’d ever had a sister, forget he ever had a life outside of the forest, outside of Karkat. Karkat could keep the mortal in a state of ignorant bliss glamoured up to the eyeballs, if he wanted to. He could make the human thank him for the honor of drowning under Karkat’s power.
And then Karkat would only have a pet, like that asshole back at The Court, and that’s not what he wants. When he looks at those red eyes, he wants them to be unclouded, and when the human talks, Karkat doesn’t want to hear his own words spoken back to him in the human’s voice.
This will be demeaning, but at least he’s the only Fey here. It’s not like the trees or the deer will understand how low he’s willing to sink. He turns to the sister. “Very well. What must I do to receive your permission,” he’s trying, but it still sounds so fucking stupid, “for our union?”
-
The fey is very clearly seething, and Dave swallows down his fear for his sister. She can handle this, right?
“I want to know what my brother’s future holds, should I give my blessing,” Rose says. Dave glances at her, but she’s staring at the fey. Is she not entranced by him? Is she immune? “How he will be treated, what is expected of him, where he will live, how often we will be able to see each other.”
Wait. Why is she asking these things? There’s no way she’s actually considering letting him marry a fey, is she? He tries desperately to catch her eye but she doesn’t avert her gaze from the creature in front of her.
-
The sister’s violet eyes are hard, attempting to bore into his. Unlike her brother, she is not swayed by his gaze (though she would be if he were actually attempting to control her that way, he’s fairly certain). Indeed, her eye contact is as unwavering as her words. And such words! Not every mortal would challenge a Fey and make demands like this. There’s no denying either her bravery or her dedication to her brother, and he’s grudgingly impressed by both.
Most of what she wants of him, he’d already been planning to give freely.
“Your brother will be given everything he needs to survive and anything within my power to provide that he desires. He can never be my equal, because he is mortal and human,” he knows his smile is not kind but it’s a good match for what he’s about to say, “and there are some things that even Fey magick cannot accomplish.”
Karkat breaks eye contact with the sister to look at the brother, who is clearly still nervous but now also insulted, and he feels the strangest urge to apologize despite not having said anything untrue. He turns back to the sister instead. “However, he will not be my pet or my slave. He will be mine, and I will be his, as much as I can be.”
The last two points the sister raised are going to be the sticking points; he can tell. The sister is clearly not unintelligent, so she already knows the answer to the first. As for the second… While brothers and sisters do not love each other in the way that Karkat loves his human (or they’re not supposed to? Again, it’s not something Karkat really understands), the idea of sharing what’s his rankles.
“He would live here with me, of course. I desire his presence at my side, and he cannot do that if he is somewhere else.” She is clearly waiting, clearly expectant, because of course she is. Karkat doesn’t sigh—it wouldn’t do to sigh in front of a mortal—but he does momentarily close his eyes. “How often would you want to see him?” Whatever she says, he’s not going to like it, because it’s going to be some amount more than ‘not at all.’
-
Dave doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to be married to a creature who will never see him as an equal, who thinks him a fool, who wants to keep him captive.
“My brother does not do well in isolation,” Rose says, instead of answering the question. “Few humans do, but him more than most. Will he have the freedom to leave your side should he want to? To wander the human world and interact with his own kind?” She tilts her head consideringly. “Will you accompany him when he visits me?”
Dave closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. This is happening. He’s going to have to stay here with the fey no matter what. It’s his own fault for stepping off the path all those years ago.
“And,” Rose adds. “What happens if he changes his mind? If, after your union, he decides he wants to part ways for good? Humans have the ability to divorce each other if the relationship sours. Do fey have something similar?”
Dave opens his eyes and can’t help the way his gaze lands on the fey, fearing the answer will be then I’ll kill him. Or perhaps something worse.
-
There’s so much insanity coming out of the sister’s mouth that Karkat hardly knows where to start. How about at the end, just to add to the craziness! “Are mortals truly so fickle that they could take the risk and responsibility of giving themselves to another and holding that other in return one moment, and then decide that they’re not interested in that commitment in another?” He shakes his head. “The Fey absolutely do not have anything like that. Once you have traded your names, there is no undoing what is done.” He points at his betrothed. “‘It’s a big responsibility and all that. I get it,’ he said when he asked me for this—do you mean to tell me that he does not understand what responsibilities are? Do you consider your brother to be an idiot in addition to being a fool?”
Not giving her a chance to answer, he continues, the force of his incredulousness pushing him along. “And ‘isolation’? He is not going to be alone if he is with me, is he? What exactly can other humans give him that I cannot?” Karkat’s starting to feel like he’s lost the upper hand somehow, that he’s going to lose, and he doesn’t understand why his human doesn’t speak for himself. Yes, Karkat wants the sister to agree to their union, but doesn’t his betrothed want it, too? “I will keep him company as he will for me,” he insists.
-
The fey is growing frustrated the longer he talks to Rose. Dave can relate. But he doesn’t know how much it will take before he snaps and decides to leave them to rot in the twisting, shifting maze of the forest.
He’s beautiful even in his anger, a brilliant light behind his eyes, skin shimmering under the moonlight. But Dave feels his own frustration building beneath the enchantment.
“Will you stop calling me a fool?” his mouth says without his permission. Both pairs of eyes snap to him and Dave gulps. “It’s—It’s not fickleness, dude. You said yourself that I won’t ever be your equal. You’re more powerful than me, probably in every way. My sister is just—she’s worried that you could hurt me and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”
It takes a lot for him to pull his gaze away, dropping it to the ground and hoping he looks suitably embarrassed of his sister. He’s pretty sure the fey won’t take it well if he told the truth, that this was all just a big misunderstanding.
Rose places a hand on his shoulder and says, “Yes, he’s correct. We don’t exactly have the best history with the fey. As for your other question… Humans are social creatures, I’m sure you’ve gathered. We need community. Friendship. Even a simple conversation with someone new can have a large impact on our emotional well being. Without this we can become withdrawn and severely depressed. You can see why this would concern me.”
-
Neither he nor the sister had been expecting his human’s outburst. His human had seemed fairly surprised himself, his red eyes turning suddenly from outrage to fear. As a further surprise to Karkat, the brother's gaze shifts away from holding Karkat’s own down to the ground, where it remains even after the sister puts her hand on his shoulder.
He doesn’t like to see his human look this way, like a rabbit cowering inside its den trying to hide from a wolf. He doesn’t like to think of himself as a predator, though his betrothed is not wrong: Karkat cannot make the human his equal; Karkat is more powerful than the human is; and should Karkat wish to hurt him, there would not be much the human could do about it.
Still, the human would not have asked to trade names if he didn’t trust Karkat at all, right?
He has to address what the sister has said, but he’ll start with the brother’s request first. “You have been foolish, beloved, however, foolish is not all you are, so you are right to ask this of me. I will no longer refer to you as a fool, but,” he smiles slightly, teasing, “I may still remark upon your foolishness. Is that fair?”
-
Beloved. The word sends a little shiver down his spine. The fey has called him that before, among other things, but Dave is starting to believe he might be serious about it. They’ve met only once before; he doesn’t even know Dave. Do fey go around falling in love at the first meeting constantly? Do they—
Did he just make a joke?
Dave is so surprised that he looks up. The fey is smiling at him, humor in his eyes, and it makes warmth spread through him. Another part of the enchantment? Possibly.
“I—yeah, okay,” Dave says. He offers a little smile of his own as Rose drops her hand. She makes a thoughtful sound, a noise that has often foretold imminent problems in Dave’s life.
-
Seeing his human’s smile, as small and tentative as it is, is enough to reassure Karkat that the effort of convincing the sister to allow their union will be worth the result of being able to see him smile again of his own free will. Both the sister and the brother are looking at him now, though the latter’s look seems calculating in a way Karkat only usually sees at The Court.
“Humans and the Fey are not so different,” he says after collecting his thoughts and choosing his words with even greater care than he normally would. “The Fey are no less ‘social creatures’ than mortals are, though we do not meet many we have not already met. We have conversations and communities as well.” He has already decided he would state his circumstances plainly, but it is embarrassing and shameful to put himself on the same level as a mortal, especially since it’s so apt. “We tend to stay with our own clans unless called to The Court. My clan are there now, and I have been here without their company for some time. So, I do understand your concerns quite well.”
And, because he does understand her concerns, he has to make concessions. Making concessions is generally frowned upon because it generally means one was not clever enough to ensure attainment of one’s goal without them, but no one is here to judge him for that, and he has no wish to make his human miserable. However, even though it wasn’t a lie to say that mortals and Fey are not so different, mortals are more fragile. It took Karkat several hundred years to reach the state where he would agree to trade names with a human he’d only just met: humans don’t even live that long.
“How often would he have to meet other humans to be happy?”
-
Though she hides it well, Dave can see surprise on his sister’s face. Whether at the information about fey or at the question, Dave doesn’t know.
“What do you think, brother of mine?” Rose asks, raising an eyebrow. “How often?”
Dave falters. “Um. I don’t know?”
This is his chance to barter for some freedom, some time spent away from the fey. How much is too much?
“Two or three times a week?” he says uncertainly. He can’t tell if Rose approves of his answer, as she’s already turning back to the fey.
“Two or three times a week, then. To be increased or decreased based upon my brother’s wishes,” she says. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment, I’d like to speak to my brother alone.”
Rose doesn’t wait for an answer, grabbing Dave by the wrist and leading him aside. She stands close and Dave beats her to the punch.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he whispers.
“Talking to your betrothed,” she responds in a hushed voice. “I thought it went rather well. You’ll be allowed to walk among our world and you’ll be safe. If nothing else, he does seem to care about your happiness. And you seem to be quite taken with him as well.”
Dave stares at her, scandalized.
“Unless you wish to tell him you don’t want to be married?” she asks pointedly.
“No!” Dave whisper-yells. He doesn’t know what the fey will do to them and he doesn’t want to find out. He takes a breath and says, “No, I don’t want to tell him that.”
“He seems kind, for a fey,” Rose says. “He could have swept you away and left me to rot here, but he heard us out. I think you’ll be okay.” She takes his hand and there’s clear regret in her eyes when she says, “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
Dave feels tears building and blinks them back. It’s fine. He’ll see Rose again. Hell, he might see her later this week.
“It’s okay,” he says. He tugs her into a quick hug, which she isn’t expecting. She barely has a chance to raise her arms in return before he’s stepping back. He gives her a nod and, after a moment, she nods back.
“I offer my blessing,” Rose tells the fey when they’ve walked back. “On the condition that my brother’s safety, health, and happiness is top priority. Do I have your word?”
-
The hushed conversation between the brother and sister would probably be impossible for another mortal to understand, but it’s clear as a cricket’s cry to Karkat. The words are, too, and he feels himself relax—despite the sister’s talk of mortals and their divorce, his human hasn’t changed his mind after all, even with her prompting to do so. He watches his betrothed hug the sister and only feels a little envious.
When they return to him, the sister gives her blessing conditionally.
There is no thought of refusing any of the conditions: he wants to keep his human safe, happy, and healthy. However… He looks to his beloved. As caught up as he’s been in answering all of the sister’s questions and asking his own in return, he has not forgotten that his human had required prompting to come back and fulfill his own promise. Naturally, he can do that every time his human leaves, use that charm to ensure his return, but he doesn’t like the idea that he’d be forcing his husband to come back to him: Karkat doesn’t want a prisoner. “Will you give me your word that you will return to me faithfully after every time you depart? If you will abide by that rule, I will accept your sister’s blessing on our union with her terms.”
-
Dave blinks in surprise. He hadn’t even considered trying to flee for good. Wouldn’t the fey just draw him back, over and over again? Though perhaps he doesn’t want to have to go through the whole song and dance for a conclusion that’s already been decided.
“I give you my word,” Dave says. He wonders if they’re supposed to shake on it. The mental image of the fey shaking hands with someone is bizarre; it’s hard to imagine him doing something so mundane.
-
Karkat absolutely does not breathe out a sigh of relief. “A promise made is a promise kept,” he says. Then he turns to the sister. “I give you my word that the safety, health, and happiness of your brother will be my top priority.” He takes her hand up in his. As with his betrothed, her flesh is very warm under his fingers and under his lips. “You will always have safe passage in my forest. All who dwell here will know that you are under my protection.”
Then he lets go of her hand and points toward the path. Although she’s in no danger here anymore, he doesn’t actually know where outside the forest she lives, so the path is more expedient. “You will find the path if you walk in that direction twenty paces as the crow flies.”
He takes up his own human’s hand, inwardly thrilling at the contact in a way he hadn’t when he’d held the sister’s hand. “Are you ready to come with me, my love?”
-
Dave watches, befuddled, as the fey kisses Rose’s hand. Is there magic in kisses? What?
The fey gives Rose a clear dismissal, though she waits until Dave gives her a nod before turning and walking away. Dave stares after her even as the fey takes his hand; it’s cold in his own.
“Yeah,” he says when he can no longer make out Rose’s form walking through the trees. “I’m ready.”
-
The moon is high in the sky by the time Karkat leads his human to the clearing in the very middle of the forest. Mortals do not see well in the dark, and they don’t move as fast as a Fey even when the light is bright enough for them to see by. The clearing is a liminal space: not quite forest and not quite not forest, both and neither. It feels appropriate to start his union with his human here, in a place between is and isn’t.
Nothing stirs the grasses here except for the wind, and the grasses don’t understand Karkat when he uses sound to speak. The only witnesses of their union will be the moon and the stars, and that’s as it should be. There are no particular words to be said. No ceremony as there is for when a new member is inducted into the clan or for when spring needs to be welcomed in. Trading true names is, by necessity, private. Only one other person in the entire world knows Karkat’s true name.
In a few minutes, a mortal will know it, too. It is simultaneously exciting and terrifying.
In the center of the clearing is an island of stone pushing up through the grasses. The white of the stone is tinged blue under the light of the moon, and it comes up to about Karkat’s knee. There’s nothing special about the stone beyond it being nice to look at and acting as a convenient table for ceremonies that require a table. He sits down on the smooth surface and gestures for the human to join him. Once he’s done so, Karkat gives into the temptation to wrap his arm around the human’s shoulders, much as he’d done the first time they’d met.
He enjoys the sensation for a few moments before he speaks. “My name is Karkat. You may call me Vantas. Who are you?”
-
Dave follows close behind the fey as he’s led deeping into a forest. They arrive in a meadow, which is… nice. It’s pretty. But Dave was expecting something more magical, fantastical. But this is fine too.
He takes a seat on the big rock, keeping a decent amount of space between them. The fey has no such compunctions, scooting close and wrapping his arm around Dave’s shoulder. And then he drops his name, and Dave is surprised once more. There’s no ritual to it? No magic words?
“...Dave,” he says. “My name is Dave Strider. It’s… nice to meet you, Vantas.”
The name is unusual and Dave isn’t sure he’s saying it right, but the fey lights up.
-
Karkat grins. He’s never been happier to learn a human’s name. “A wonderful name, my love.” Once his clan has returned, he won’t be able to say it, but they’re not here right now. “Dave.” He likes the way it feels, the way it fits. “You will need to protect it, especially when other Fey are around.” He hesitates. “What do you want me to call you?”
-
“Oh, uh, I don’t know?” Dave says. Karkat’s smile is stunning, and he has to take a moment to gather his thoughts and recover. “I’ve never really had a nickname. Besides Dave, which is short for David. Humans don’t really have to protect their names from each other.”
He chews on his lip, thinking, but it’s like he’s forgotten every name he’s ever heard. He definitely doesn’t want any other fey knowing his name, though he still doesn’t know what they do with them.
“What do you think?” he asks.
-
Although Karkat knew that mortals don’t have the power to do much with names, the idea that they share them with each other without the thought of the consequences comes as a bit of a shock. Something about that fact clamors for attention, but Dave’s question diverts his attention. Does Dave want Karkat to choose what he’s called?
It seems odd not to decide that for yourself, but all mortals are odd, and this one is definitely no exception to that rule.
There’s a handful of names that Karkat’s collected and never had the opportunity to return. Maybe Dave would like one of those?
“Do you like Susan?”
-
The suggestion surprises a laugh out of Dave, especially because Karkat looks so serious as he says that.
“What? No!” he says, a hand coming up to hide his laugh, lest the fey take offense. “That’s a girl’s name, dude. I’m a guy!”
-
Karkat decides that Dave’s laughter is something he’ll never tire of hearing. Oh, right. Human bodies are confusing enough to keep straight: names have genders, too? He frowns in thought, trying to remember the mortals the names had belonged to. Fuck. “How about Laura?”
-
Dave shakes his head, another laugh slipping out as he starts to relax.
“Have you only met women?” he asks, amused.
-
“No,” Karkat says, not entirely certain of any such thing. He can feel Dave going loose under his arm, and it makes him feel warmer than having the human’s warm body pressed against his. “I have met all kinds of humans.” He thinks again. There was one human who happily gave him his name. At least, that human had been wearing breeches instead of a dress. “Margaret.”
-
“That’s another girl's name,” Dave tells him. “I’m pretty sure you’ve only ever met women.”
Looks like Karkat isn’t going to be any help with this. Dave was honestly expecting some sort of fey name to be suggested. He doubts there are any fey out there named Susan.
“Can I just go by D?” he asks. “It’s not very creative, I know. I should’ve asked Ro—my sister for suggestions before she left.”
-
“You can go by whatever you want, beloved,” Karkat says, relieved that he doesn’t have to keep going through his list—there are only two more on it, and he doesn’t think Dave looks like a Mildred or a Thomas. “If you decide later you want to be called something else, it is fine. It is not your name.” He’d noticed the near slip, of course, and he debates whether to address it now. Of course, the fact that Dave caught himself means that he already knows he shouldn’t share anyone’s name.
Dave is not a fool, even if he acts foolishly.
He looks up at the moon, still high in the sky but slowly growing lower and lower and the stone is wet with dew. The evening is waning fast, and he has a decision to make. Or, he would have a decision to make if he were stupid enough to think he had a choice.
But Dave gave his word, and that is enough.
Karkat stands. “I will take you to the path, and you will return to me in two day’s time. I need to prepare a place for you to stay when you are with me.”
-
“What?” Dave asks, startled. “After all this you’re just… sending me away?”
He has no idea what’s going on in Karkat’s head. Hadn’t he been the one to draw Dave here? Shouldn’t he have ‘prepared’ a place beforehand? And why does he need to prepare something anyway; won’t Dave be staying with him?
Not that Dave is complaining. Two days is enough time to pack his things and explain to his friends that he won’t see them every day anymore, and send off messages to his clients. They won’t be pleased that they won’t see their portraits, but Dave will give the initial payments back. And what are they gonna do about it? Send their guards into the forest that his—that Karkat controls?
-
“Only for two days,” Karkat says, having to smile a little at how dramatic his husband is being. He takes up Dave’s hand, getting used to the action far more quickly than he thought he would. “If I had known your sister would be negotiating the terms of our union and how clever she is, I would have used the time I spent waiting for your arrival differently. Alas! It seems that time can make fools of even the Fey.” Or, at least, this Fey.
“I had prepared a place for you beyond the mortal realm, but I cannot take you there now.”
He can see the question on Dave’s face before he can voice it. “Time is flexible for the Fey: we can decide how long we were behind the veil. For mortals, time moves differently. You could go in and step right out, and a hundred years could have passed. You could stay and age for decades, then come out after only a few minutes. Even if I were to hold your hand each time you passed through, I could not guarantee how the time would affect you.
“I cannot take that risk with the oath I’ve sworn to your sister. You would not be happy to spend time behind the veil only to return hundreds of years after your sister’s death, for example. It is far safer to craft you a shelter inside this part of the forest, wouldn’t you agree?”
-
Woah, what? What does ‘behind the veil’ mean? Is it like a whole ass fey realm? Holy shit, does Rose know about this?
“I—yeah, I’d rather avoid that,” he says truthfully. The idea of time passing so quickly without his knowledge is frightening.
“So is that where you live?” he asks, standing up as well. “Behind the veil? And, um. How much of this am I allowed to tell my sister?”
-
“Some of the time.” Karkat starts leading Dave through the clearing, back towards the trees. “Think of me as a frog which lives some of its life in the water, and some of its life on the land. Or as a bird who lives in the air and on the ground. Then forget that because I am neither a frog nor a bird. I am a Fey, and the veil is very little like the difference between water and air or air and ground. It’s not something you’re going to be able to understand.” He pauses. “And that is not me calling you a fool: even your sister would not understand it, and there can be no doubting she’s a cunning mortal.” Maryam would like her, he thinks.
He wonders what Maryam is doing right now.
He wonders if she misses him, too.
Then he shakes his head. “Do not tell her my true name. Anything else, you may do your best to explain should she wish to know.”
-
Karkat’s cold hand in his is a lot less off-putting than before. Perhaps because he swore an oath to keep Dave safe and happy. Fey can’t go back on their word, right? He thinks he vaguely remembers that.
He turns Karkat’s words over in his mind as they walk. He doesn’t really understand what the veil is, but Karkat splitting his life between there and here is easy enough to grasp.
“I wasn’t going to tell her that,” he frowns, and finds that it’s true. Rose likely wouldn’t be able to do much with it, but it’s more the principle of the thing. This is the person he’s going to be stuck with for the rest of his life, no matter what. Betrayal is nowhere on his to-do list.
-
There’s a sour note in Dave’s voice, and Karkat sees the frown curving his mouth when he turns his head to look. He rubs Dave’s knuckles in silent apology. “I believe you, beloved. You must understand that you will very seldom get a simple yes or no from me—Fey rarely make unqualified agreements or disagreements. I do not intend offense.” He smiles. “You will know when I intend offense.”
-
Despite himself, Dave finds the fey’s words soothing. He wonders how much of that is his natural enchantment and how much is just himself. Karkat even manages to pull a little smile out of him.
“I bet you’re a pro at insults, huh?” Dave says. “I’d like to see you go toe-to-toe with R—my sister sometime. Uh, under less stressful circumstances. Maybe all it takes to beat her at her own game is a fey.”
They come upon the path and Karkat stops. Dave hesitates a moment before giving his hand a squeeze and letting go.
“I’ll be back in two days,” Dave reminds him, because Karkat looks sad. He did say he’s been alone for awhile. Is that why he was so eager to marry Dave? Are they even married now? They told each other their names but there was no ceremony, no ritual. Is that just how it works for fey?
-
“I know you will.” Karkat misses the warmth of Dave’s hand in his already. He steps closer to touch his lips to the crown of Dave’s head. It’s similar to the charm he put onto Dave’s sister, but with something more which indicates that Dave is not merely under Karkat’s protection: Dave is his. “When you return, please call for me so that I can guide you.”
-
Dave’s face goes hot at the gentle press of lips. It’s incredibly affectionate and Dave doesn’t know what to do with that.
“I will,” he says. He remembers that all those years ago he parted from Karkat with a kiss on the cheek. He was terrified back then. Less so now, with Karkat’s oath and something like an actual conversation between them.
It makes it easier for him to stretch up and place a kiss on Karkat’s cheek. It’s just as short as last time, but at least he doesn’t think he’s about to be murdered.
“See you,” he says and steps away, onto the path. The weight of Karkat’s gaze as he leaves the forest is much less oppressive than the first time.
Rose has no choice but to believe him now.
-
Dave is so charming, perhaps there’s magick in his kisses as well. All Karkat knows is he feels impossibly light even as he watches his husband leave him behind. Two days. Dave will return in two days, and Karkat is determined to have everything his human will require ready by then.
It’s time to get to work.