Please read the previous Part first - It'll be under a similar name(in the previous part, Valian transformed himself into Thistle, a young elf girl)
Enjoy :)Witchlight Festival Continued
Taking fast, little steps, Valian does his best to stay out of sight. However, the disorientation of his new body and his now oversized, ill-fitting tunic make him move unevenly and almost as if he’s drunk.
He nearly stumbles head over heels, catching himself on the nearby blacksmith's tent. He steadies himself, hair falling into his eyes, his clothes hanging loosely from his slight frame.
“Whoa, little lady…” The blacksmith looks up, his smithing hammer still held in the air, ready to strike down if it weren’t for Valians sudden appearance.
Valian, angrily brushing the hair from his eyes, stares at the beast of a man. “Who you calling ‘Little Lady?’” he asks, slowly standing up straight with the help of the wooden stake holding up the blacksmith's tent.
Valian holds an intimidating glare, but as he stands completely straight, his height is no longer what it used to be, and when the blacksmith lowers his hammer and stands, he’s left looking up at the man as if he were a giant.
“M’lady…” the man says with worry across his face. “Are you drunk? Have you had one too many ales, young elf?”
“What’s it to you?” Valian flicks back his hair and tries to look intimidating.
The blacksmith laughs and rests his giant hand upon her head.
“Ha, feisty one.” He ruffles her hair. “Why don’t you run along now, young elf, before I put those skinny arms of yours to work.”
The disrespect makes Valian mad, and he tries to push the man's hand off his head. However, his usual strength and speed are missing, replaced with a soft, feminine grunt and a whole lot of nothing.
The blacksmith’s hand remains upon him, and he reacts with a belly laugh and yet another ruffle of Valian’s hair.
“Don’t like me making fun of you, little lady?” The blacksmith takes his hand from Vilain's head and then throws them both up in surrender, reacting to Valian’s angry glare. “I don’t wanna be responsible for making such a pretty girl pull such a face, miss. I’m sorry.”
Valian tries to maintain his furious glare, but his gaze drifts to his arms, then to his small hands. Deflated by his slight frame, he lets out a long, weary sigh. He really is Thistle right now, down to the minutest of details. Gone is his strength, speed, and agility, replaced with something completely foreign.
“Miss…?” the blacksmith leans forward with curiosity, matching Valian’s height. “Now, I’m just a humble smither, but when a little lady pulls such worried-looking expressions, I’d be doing you wrong not to ask if you’re okay.”
Valian studies his perfectly sculpted nails, all pointed and polished, rather than the blunt and dirty ones he’s used to. Another sigh leaves his lips as his transformation really sinks in.
“Miss?” The blacksmith repeats. “Is something wrong?”
“Yeah…” Valian looks up at the man and awkwardly smiles. “I’m not feeling like myself today. I feel like a completely different person.”
The blacksmith rubs at his chin in thought before falling to his stall beside his anvil, making the small wooden stall creak under the weight of his enormous body.
“Are you under some sort of spell?” he asks.
Valian laughs with a sense of relief, now feeling a little less intimidated, as the man sits before him at eye level.
“N-No…” he shakes his head and laughs some more. “W-What gave you that impression. I-I’m just a humble….girl….looking for the….love of my life…..”
“Oh, I see…” The blacksmith leans backward with an understanding slap of his upper thigh. “That’s why you look so….nervous, Little One. Are you meeting him for the first time?”
Valian places a hand on his now wider hips. “Something like that…”
“Interesting.” The blacksmith stares intently for a moment and then points at Valian’s tunic and the small knife sheathed hanging from his belt. “Do you think this ‘love of your life’ will be pleased to see you dressed like a common thief?”
“Thief?” Valian’s eyes grow wide at the mention. “I’m not dressed like a….” he looks down at himself, and he’s still wearing the same clothes he came to the festival in. They don’t fit Thistle’s frame at all and are frankly a dead giveaway of who he really is.
“Ah, shit…” he pinches at his shirt after seeing the sight of his larger nipples leaving an obvious imprint. “Not very flattering, my outfit, is it?”
“No, sorry, little one.” The blacksmith shakes his head once. “Unless you wanted to look like you’re wearing your father's clothes, those garments do not suit you.”
“Crap,” Valian mutters to himself as the blacksmith continues talking, knowing that he’s once again screwing things up for his best friend.
“Does this man you’ve fallen in love with mean a lot to you?”
“Yeah, I guess...” Valian lifts both his arms and holds them, taking note of just how much material hangs from his body. “He’s my best friend and partner in crime, but I’ve kinda screwed things up for him, so I really do need him to see me as this beautiful young elf.”
“I can see the worry in your eyes.” The blacksmith turns on his stool, towards his anvil, and picks up the blade he was working on, now cold and no longer malleable. “Now, little one…” he picks up his hammer and inspects it, before slowly looking in Valian’s direction. “I’ll help you with your clothing if you put back those items you’ve just stolen from me.
“W-W-What?”
Valian's eyes widen as the man turns to face him, hammer raised high above his head.
“Don’t play games with me, young lady.” The blacksmith points at some items that are missing on a table near were Valian’s stands. “I might look like a big oaf, but I’m not stupid. Put those items back, and I’ll consider helping you.”
As the blacksmith begins to stand, Valian finally relents. He slowly retrieves the two silver-plated items from his pockets and sets them neatly back on the table before turning to face the man with a strained, nervous smile.
“S-Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.”
"I just saw them and..." Valian folds his hands behind his back and cocks his head to one side, his hair slipping behind his shoulders in a picture of innocent charm. "...I thought maybe they could be traded for a dress... or something."
“I gathered…” the blacksmith raises an eyebrow. “But a thief is unbecoming of a pretty young woman like yourself…” he points the large hammer at Valian’s face, who takes a single step back. “If I help you, you promise not to steal again?”
“Help me….” Valian grows bold. “How…exactly?”
“Firstly…” the blacksmith places the hammer on the side, wipes his hand clean on his arpon, and thrusts it in Valian’s direction. “Names Theo. Nice to meet you.”
“Erm…” Valian shakes his massive hand and can’t help but squeak as Theo gently squeezes mid-handshake. “I’m…. Val—” he stops himself. “Thistle. My name is Thistle.”
“Thistle?” Theo lets Valian’s hand go and nods in approval. “Cute name for a cute little lady.” He then hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “Now, I’ve got a daughter about your height. She’s stupidly come to the Witchlight festival in her finest attire…”
Theo tuts and looks away, frustrated.
“Silly girl said she’d help her old man with his commissions, but I can’t rightly have her working the forge or the iron in such a dress.” He slaps his thigh again and laughs. “Darn silly girl will end up catching herself on fire and burning our tent…and maybe the whole festival down!”
Valian laughs, because he laughs, but furrows his brow, confused
“So, how about a trade, young Thistle?”
“Trade?” Valian looks down at his clothes, and he comes to understand. “Oh, she wears my clothes, and I wear her dress?”
“Yes.” He stands.
“Wait…” Valian starts to follow as he moves to the back of the tent to a separate area away from the forge. “Dresses aren’t usually my thing. What does it look like?”
Theo pulls back a heavy curtain, revealing their living space while the festival is in progress. Standing across the small area at the back of the tent is Theo’s daughter, Iris, who’s tending to a stew simmering over a small fire.
“Daughter!” Theo claps his hands to get attention. “Problem solved! Young Thistle here requires a dress, and you’re in needed of an outfit more fitting for work!”
Iris, a girl with long following black hair and eyes as brown as rusted iron, looks in Valian’s direction. At first, Valian notices just how pretty the young woman is, but quickly turns his attention to her attire.
The dress, a maroon and white off-the-shoulder number with a laced corset and a heavy, layered skirt, hangs so gracefully from her body.
A maiden Valian finds very attractive but in his new form, struggles to remember why.
“Father?” Iris looks at Theo as she drops the metal spoon she was using to stir back in the cauldron. “She’ll bring my dress back, yes?”
Theo looks at Valian, who quickly nods.
“S-Sure.” Valian answers with a playful smile, knowing he doesn’t plan to stay as Thistle long enough to warrant returning the dress.
“Father, is this what you wish of me?” Iris stands at his side, looking up at the man with innocence. “To wear this dirty-looking elf girl’s attire?”
Theo claps his massive hands together, causing a small shock wave to rattle the tent's walls.
“Ladies!” he commands. “I’ll leave you both to trade garments. I’ll be tending my stall.” He turns to Iris with a fatherly presence about him. “Daughter, I need you to stoke the forge once you’re ready. I’m sure we’ll see Thistle again when she’s met with the love of her life and the two of them are madly in love.”
The word ‘love’ rattles in Valian’s head. It stings like a dagger into his heart, just reminding him how badly he’s messed up.
“She doesn’t look like she’s in love,” Iris says.
Valian perks up and forces a smile, still determined to make it right, even if that means wearing this woman’s dress.
He begins to remove the scarf that Thistle was wearing and dropped when they had their misunderstanding. He holds it in his hands, a reminder of Torin’s love for the real Thistle. “You can’t have this, Iris. I need it. I’ll wear this scarf so that Torin knows who I am.”
“Torin?” Iris looks interested as she also begins to unlace herself from her dress. “Is he an elf like you?”
Valin nods, removing belts and weapons in the process. It’s at this moment that Theo smiles and steps out of the living area and back to the stall at the front. As the curtain is pulled closed from the other side, Iris slides out of her dress, revealing her undergarments and her shapely body hidden beneath.
Valian naturally looks, wanting to take in every single curve of her body, having not enjoyed the sight of a beautiful young woman for some time, but he finds himself uninterested. He stops removing his clothes to stare at her, confused as to why he’s not excited.
“Thistle?” Iris looks at him, not even attempting to cover her curves. “What’s wrong? You’re looking at me like you’ve never seen a naked woman before.”
“I have seen them before…” Valian whines and blinks a few times, fog misting his thoughts. “I have. Many times, I’ll have you know.”
“Indeed.” Iris lays her clothes upon a small stall for Valian to take and stands, waiting for him to return the favor.
“Don’t ‘indeed’ me. I really have!”
“I believe you!” Iris blurts back and looks at him, confused. “Of course you’ve seen a woman naked before, you silly elf. You are one.”
Valian’s gaze falls to his hands that are unbuttoning his tunic. As he allows it to fall around his feet, two small, but perky breasts sit on his chest. Each one with a thick dark nipple, pointing directly ahead.
“Thistle!” Iris laughs at the sight of Valian’s naked chest. “You must really love this man. Very brave not wearing any underwear. No wonder I could see your nipples so prominently”
Iris begins to unhook herself from her binding, and seconds later her breasts hang free from her chest as she holds out the garment in Valian’s direction.
“Here.” She says. “You wear mine. We look like ladies of a similar size.” She giggles to herself as Valian takes the garment and looks at it as if it’s a form of black magic. “Oh my, elf girl. Are you confused by it?”
Unable to stop himself from going red, Valian tries to work it out but quickly fails. In a flurry of laughter, Iris takes it from him, stands behind him, and wraps his little breasts tight in the material, causing him to let out a little squeak of discomfort.
“What’s he like?” Iris says
Valian squrims a little as Iris hooks the bra tight to his budding chest. “Who?” he replies, wanting, with all his might, to pull the garment off and let his tits hang free.
“Your Torin.”
“He’s erm…” Valian’s thoughts turn to words like ‘dependable and useful in a crisis,’ but the words that come out of his mouth confuse him. “…he’s a beautiful man with the soul of an angel.”
“An angel, huh?”
"I said that, didn't I?" Valian's hand rises to his throat, his expression puzzled, as if his own voice has turned against him.
Iris nods in agreement, then starts gathering Valian’s discarded clothes for herself. As she begins to put on his slightly dirty tunic, she asks yet another question.
“Where did you meet him?”
The words on Valian’s mind are ‘as kids, in the city. We were orphans together, stealing to survive, ’ but the words that come out of his mouth seem almost possessed. “I haven’t met him yet. We’ve been sending each other love letters for months.”
“That’s sweet.” Iris starts fastening the belt she’s traded with Valian, but stops herself and looks confused. “Aren’t you going to get dressed?”
“Y-Yeah…” Valian scrambles to pick up her heavy dress, but his mind is unclear and clouded. Did he subconsciously say those words because he knows he’s pretending to be Thistle? He starts putting on her dress, lost in thought.
Eventually, gets the dress on, with Iris’s help, who laces up the corset. The blacksmith's daughter is then kind enough to brush out her hair and tie the scarf around Valian’s neck next.
They stand apart from each other, now entirely wearing each other's clothes.
“You look lovely.” Iris gives a warm smile as she tidies hair from Valian’s eyes. “Torin’s a very lucky man, and he’s going to be blown away with how beautiful you look in my dress!”
"Great," Valian says, trying to make it sound sarcastic, but his expression gives him away. The widest smile pulls at his lips, and his voice comes out sweeter than ever.
“Aww…” Iris holds his sides. “You’re glowing. That smile, Thistle. You must really love him.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Aww, that’s sweet.” Iris gently touches Valian’s face. “But don’t tell me you love him. You have to say that to him yourself.”
Concern spreads across Valian's face. The fog in his mind thickens, stubbornly refusing to fade. He presses his hands to his face, struggling to collect himself before asking, "What did I just say to you?"
Iris looks concerned. “You said you love him.” She touches Valian’s shoulder, worried. “Do you wanna sit down? You don’t look so good. All the blood has drained from your face.”
Just as Valian is about to sit down, voices cut through the noise of the Withlight Festival still happening all around them. From the front of the blacksmith stall, a familiar voice can be heard conversing with Theo.
His heart pounds as recognition strikes—it’s Lana. He quickly realizes she’s here for the mask he stole. Keeping to the side of the closed curtain separating the two spaces, he holds still and listens.
Iris joins him, seemingly excited by the mystery of what’s going on.
They listen
“Ma’am, I told you. I haven’t seen or heard of an elf going by the name of Valian. I’ve been working my stall the entire time.”
“Who’s Valian?” Iris asks with whisper.
Valian shakes his head, not wanting to speak in case Lana hears them.
“I’m told, by a patron of my wares, that you’ve been seen with an elf that fits his description, blacksmith.” Lana’s tone is plain and to the point. “He’s wearing a off white tunic. Looks like a thief, because he is. That elf has stolen something from me that’s very precious!”
“I’ve not seen or spoken to any male elves, Ma’am,” Theo answers, slightly annoyed. “What exactly has this thief stolen from you? I’ll keep an ear to the ground if he tries to sell it.”
“Are you sure you haven’t seen him?” Lana questions hard.
“Yes. I’m certain.”
“What about the person wearing the exact same clothes all these other stallholders have seen you with, blacksmith? Don’t mess with me; I’ll curse you and your entire family.”
“White tunic. Looks like a thief?”
“Yes,” Lana confirms impatiently.
Silence for a moment
“Iris!” Theo calls out. “Iris sweetheart, are you able to come here for a moment, please?”
Iris and Valian catch each other's gaze as Iris pushes through the curtain to the other side. As soon as it wafts close again, Theo announces his daughter's entrance to Lana with smug excitement.
“As you can see, she’s wearing clothing very similar to what you’re describing,” he says. “I told you, I don’t know anything about a young male Elf. Please, now if you’re not going to commission me to forge you anything, can you leave me be?”
More silence, then movement.
“Fine. I’ll look elsewhere.” Lana’s voice gets quieter as Valian listens intently, hidden away.
Silence lingers for another moment before Theo whisks the curtain aside with a sharp swish. Valian jumps out of his skin as Theo stands before him, grinning. Valian can barely look the large man in the eyes as he towers above.
He reaches down and touches Valian’s long hair, tucking it aside.
“Very pretty. That dress suits you….”
Valian gives an awkward smile in response.
“Now…” Theo clears his throat, steps aside, and reaches down for Valian’s knife still on the side, removing it from the sheath to inspect the blade. “Great craftsmanship on this blade. I shall take it as payment for deceiving that witch for you, Valian…”
“No!” Valian protests, clutching the hem of his dress. “I need it!”
“Do you…?” Theo clicks the blade back into its sheath and points it at him. “I’m not going to question your love for your friend, Thistle…or Valian, whoever you are, but if you’re going to do what you plan, you don’t need this knife anymore… young lady.”
A touch shocked and intimidated, Valian’s mouth falls open, and he’s about to speak.
“Off you go then.” Theo gestures toward the exit with a nod of his head. “Good luck and watch out for that witch; she’s really got it out for you, young elf.”
Valian reaches for his blade, but quickly realizes the gesture is futile. With a resigned nod, he gathers his flowing skirt and steps through the open curtain. He gives Iris a wry smile as he carefully moves past the burning forge, returning once more to the festival beyond.
“Good luck, Thistle!” Iris shouts out, giving a little wave. “I hope he loves you just as much as you love him!”
A small wave back, then a flash of embarrassment stings Valians cheeks. The idea of Torin loving him makes him feel oddly warm inside. As he pushes through the crowds, toward the well where he first encountered the real Thistle, he finds himself smiling, but he doesn’t know exactly why.
Straightening his dress, his hair, and the scarf wrapped around him, he perches himself on the well and begins to wait for his friend. Every so often, his heart beat spikes as he thinks he sees Torin but is mistaken.
His thoughts wander back to the real Thistle's letters, to every word she'd written. Their emotion settles deep within him, as if he'd been the one to put pen to paper.
“What’s wrong with me…?”
Valian lightly bumps his head and lets out a belly laugh at how stupid he’s being.
“This is all part of the plan!” he bellows to himself as people around him begin to look. “Everything I’ve lost I’ll get back again! Just gotta stay the course!”
He folds his arms and leans on the well with his wider hips, watching people move around him. He gently smiles as he narrows his eyes, looking at all the easy targets for pickpocketing.
He points. “That’s ten gold pieces right here.”
He notices another easy target. “Another twenty. Easy.”
Then, a third target, he grins wide. “I’d be having a field day at this festival. Torin and Thistle owe me big time if I save their relationship by doing this!!”
He spots a rich aristocrat, and that makes him sigh in irritation.
“Ah man…” he flicks back his long hair and throws his head back, holding his gaze to the sky in frustration. “I could have taken that sap for everything he’s worth!” he looks down at the floor, satisfied with his own abilities. “I might be wearing a dress and a cute little elf’s body, but I’m still as sharp as a freshly sharpened blade, and that’s enough for now!”
Chuckling, he’s soon put into a frantic state as Torin, his best friend, appears at his side as if it were magic.
“My Starlight…” Torin says. “Thistle, my love.”
“H-Hello!” Valian’s eyes slowly glide up Torin’s polished appearance until he’s having to look up at him from his decreased stature. “Y-You’re taller than me, and what on earth are you wearing?”
Torin gently smiles before reaching to touch the scarf around Valian’s neck. “I’m so happy you like this, Thistle. I put so much love into it and now….” Torin’s eyes sparkle with joy. “…I finally get to see you in it, and I’m more in love than ever, Thistle. You are just… so incredibly beautiful in that dress.”
Mouth agape and brow furrowed, Valian struggles to process such unexpected kindness from Torin. He’s accustomed to their constant bickering, yet somehow, he finds Torin more endearing than he’d ever admit.
“T-Thank you.” Valian spins on the spot to show off the dress.
“Wow. You’re the most beautiful maiden I’ve ever seen!”
“I am?” Valian plays along, pleased that Torin’s not instantly seen through his deception.
“Yes! A beauty that transcends even the gods, Thistle. I can’t wait for you to see the life I’ve been building for us in the woods! I’ve given up theifing, as you requested, and I’m ready to start our life together!”
Warmth spreads in Valian’s heart. These words aren’t for him, but suddenly thoughts of raising a family and waking in Torin’s arms make his heart sing out in delight. So much so, he has to bite down hard on his lip to snap himself out of it.
“My god.” Valian shakes his head, trying to loosen the feelings that have infected his thoughts. As he slowly looks up to see his best friend in a completely different light, he notices Lana still searching in the distance, stomping towards their location with purpose.
“Shit!”
Torin gasps in surprised.
“Thistle?”
Knowing he needs to hide, Valian considers jumping into the well as Lana’s angry-looking face approaches quickly. There’s one more option, but Valian hesitates. About to get caught, he throws his caution to the wind and steps closer to Torin, on his tiptoes, and grabs the man’s collar.
He pulls him closer, their faces but inches apart. “Kiss me,” Valian says softly as the heavy boots of Lana trudge closer and closer.
Seconds later, Torin's lips meet Valian's for the first time. The kiss quickly deepens as Torin pulls him close. Lana walks past without so much as a glance at the two lovers kissing by the well. However, Valian definitely notices that Torin is practically swallowing his face.
Expecting to recoil from Torin's public display of affection, Valian is shaken to his core when he instinctively kisses him back. Instead of pulling away, he melts into the kiss. His heart hammers in his chest as he slowly lifts his arms around Torin's neck, drawing him closer until the kiss deepens.
And for what seems like an hour to both, they kiss until their mouths hurt. It’s only when Valian feels Torin’s excitement in physical form that he snaps out of it and pushes the man away.
Gently lowered from Torin’s grasp, Valian can barely believe it.
On one hand, he’s thrilled his plan is working; on the other, he knows exactly what Torin has had for breakfast, and that makes him want to puke right then and there in the well beside them.
Valian leans on the wall, overlooking the deep hole, wondering if he should indeed puke. Then Torin speaks.
“So, it’s true!” he gushes, making Valian look around, confused. “Y-You really do love me like your letter’s say.” Torin brings his hands to his chest, looking down lovingly. “Oh, Thistle, the love of my life, I’m the happiest man on this green earth.”
“W-Well, good…” Valian forces a smile before turning back to the water to retch.
He turns back again, one finger upon his lips as if that would hold back the vomit. “H-How…” he says, lowering his finger to speak. “…exciting for us.” He wretches as the next words leave his mouth. “M-M…My love.”
Torin is lost in his own little world, a smile lingering on his face, while Valian quietly regains his composure. He brushes down his dress, wipes at his mouth, and searches the area for any sign of Lana. He finds her speaking with people at the archers' range.
“Torin…” Valian grabs at his much larger hand, clutching it tight, pulling him in the opposite direction. “This way!”
“Okay, my love!” Torin grips tight, allowing himself to be pulled by the much smaller and weaker Thistle version of Valian.
The two head for the stalls, all the while holding hands.
Trying to put some distance from Lana, Valian drags Torin to the food stalls. The smell of roasted hog wafting across the open field almost lures them. They stand at the counter, and Valian throws up his arm for service.
“Shopkeeper!” he exclaims. “Two servings.”
Torin is surprised at first.
“Thistle, my sweet…” he leans to whisper as the shopkeeper slides some meat across to them in a crudely made wooden bowl. “I didn’t think you eat meat.”
“Of course I do.” Valian shovels some of the meat into his mouth, and instantly, he begins to cough and splutter at the vile, rancid taste.
Torin lightly chuckles to himself.
“Oh, starlight…” he gently pats Valian on the back. “You don’t have to try and be something you're not, just for me. I love you exactly how you are.”
Mouth open, meat spilling from his mouth, Valian glares, frustrated. He turns to the shopkeeper. “You’ve sold us rancid meat, you swine!”
The shopkeeper points at the freshly cooking hog, slowly turning on the spit and then shrugs.
“My sweet…” Torin gently pulls Valian back. “It’s not rotten, my little Starlight. You don’t like meat, you said it yourself.”
Valian stares up at Torin’s soft smile and frowns hard as the taste of the rancid meat lingers. About to protest that he does like meat, Lana appears in the distance, marching in their direction as if he’s been tipped off about their location.
“L-Let’s go get some jellied sweets!” Valian laughs, putting on a cute smile for Torin, who laps it up.
“Sure!” he grabs at Valian’s dainty hands tight and starts leading the way.
Soon, they’ve lost Lana, and the two walk hand in hand. For a moment, it feels weird, but then, Valian finds himself looking up at his best friend, pleased to be near him. His cheeks glow as he thinks about their first kiss.
It’s a warm feeling growing in his heart that he once again has to shake off. Letting out a long sigh and flicking back his long hair, Valian distracts himself.
“Ten gold.” He says to himself, looking at the people in front of them and the easy money he could make thieving.
Then, another easy target, making him smile as they slowly approach the jellied sweet stall.
“Would be so easy…” he sighs before Torin lets go of his hand and orders some rose jellied sweets, quickly holding out the small brown bag to Valian, waiting in sheer delight for him to take one.
“I know these are your favorite, my Startlight.”
Not usually one for jellied sweets, Valian eyes it warily before finally taking one. The second it hits his tongue, Valian’s doubts vanish. He devours it in seconds, sucking every trace of flavor away before immediately reaching for another.
“Wow!” Valian shoves a handful into his mouth, sucking as he speaks. “These are amazing, Torin. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome!”
Their eyes meet and linger on each other for a moment.
“Shall we continue looking around?” Torin puts out his hand, and in that moment, Lana is the last thing on Valian’s mind
“Y-Yes.” He replies, snatching the sweets from Torin’s grasp, making him chuckle in the process. “Let's…”
Eventually, the two find themselves sitting on a hillside, side by side, looking over the festival. Some people sit around them doing the same, all seen as easy targets, but Valian is more concerned with devouring the jellied rose sweets. A wide smile grows as the sun gently warms his face.
It’s a relaxing moment.
Lana is nowhere in sight, and the plan is working well.
“My Starlight…?”
“Mmmm?” Valian replies, mouth full
“I didn’t want to say this to you in a letter. I want to tell you this in person.”
Valian looks around at his friend as she moves closer and puts his arm on Valian’s crossed legs.
“What?” he asks, mouth full of sweets.
“Do you ever think about the future?”
“The future?”
Torin slowly moves his hand up Valian’s leg. Instinctively, Valian places his hand upon it and grips it tight, oddly finding it comforting.
“I do, my Starlight.” Torin moves closer still, their bodies now touching as they look across the festival, the sun beginning to set.
“I think about you. I think about us living off the land.”
Valian, swallowing down the last of the rose sweets, looks up. First, confused, but then his expression softens as Torin continues spilling his heart.
“I think about our kids. I think about us having two girls and a boy.” Torin continues as Valian becomes mesmerized by Torin.
“Little Rose, Little Hazel, and Little Valian, our beautiful kids, Thistle. Can you see it? Them all playing in the field as we tend our crops together. Do you see it?”
His heart sings, and he does imagine it. Wearing a flowing dress, hair down, dancing playfully in the evening summertime breeze, watching over their kids as they share a lover's kiss. But something sticks out like a thorn in the side.
“You’d name our boy, Valian?” Valian asks, lost in the moment.
“Yes.” Torin looks down at the festival, his hand on the back of his neck; then he smiles. “He’s my best friend. I wouldn’t have met you if it wasn’t for him. Remember, because he got in trouble at the castle, I had to come and bail him out. I met you in the process. I owe it to him. His actions were fated to bring us together.”
Two trains of thought merge together. One, the memory of the castle heist going wrong, and the other, deep feelings of love and belonging.
“You big idiot.” Valian laughs at the idea, deeply touched by it before leaning across to kiss him. “I’d love that. When we have kids, we’ll call one of the Valian, after him.
A deeply passionate kiss follows before Valian slowly rests his head in Torin’s arms, watching the clouds pass by and the sun gently setting.
The plan has worked, but that isn’t what Valian smiles to himself about. He nestles in closer, feeling a sense of pure and wonderful belonging in Torin’s arms.
Time passes
More time passes
Then, Torin chuckles to himself, making Valian sit up.
“Torin?” Valian asks, slightly amused.
“Oh, nothing,” Torin replies. “It’s just…” he points out to several people who are now surrounding them, sitting on the hillside. “It’s just, if Valian was here for real, he’d have already pointed out to me all these chances to steal. He’d be counting the gold in his head.
Valian’s eyes dart around the area.
He sees no chances.
“Fifty gold pieces by my count…”
Valian’s heart sinks.
He counts nothing. No chances.
That’s when Torin leans in and kisses his cheek so softly, it makes Valian tremble with excitement.
“I don’t do that anymore, though, my Starlight. I love you too much.”
Eyes wide in shock. Valian’s edge is blunted
"I love you two." The words escape Valian's lips without permission, and the moment they do, the familiar fog rolls back over his mind.
Then follows another kiss to the cheek.
Valian turns to return the kiss without a second thought. Amid the haze clouding his mind, the only truth that remains is the love he holds deep within his heart.
The love for Torin, his best friend.
The love for Torin, the man he wants to marry
The love for Torin, the man he wants to birth three children to.
Was that the plan all along?
He can’t remember.
Valian's eyes dart in every direction, his judgment hopelessly clouded, until another passionate kiss from Torin melts his worries away. He relaxes into Torin's embrace, and together they watch the sun sink below the horizon, wrapped in each other's arms and hopelessly in love.
***
Epilouge
A disheveled man falls into the witch's tent, his eyes bulging with worry and fear. Lana, sitting on a stool, still seething from the day's events, looks up at the commotion.
She begins to smile wide as she recognizes the man
“Valian…, my dear.” She stands, the smirk on her face reaching from ear to ear. “I see you were able to take off the mask?”
The man stares blankly and then begins to cry.
“I’m not….” She breaks down, falls to her knees, and clutches their face tight. “I’m not this person! I’m NOT!”
Lana steps closer, quickly understanding the situation.
“Oh, child?” she puts a hand upon the crying man's shoulder
“I’m not a man!” the person cries out in pain. “I don’t want to steal anymore!”
“No, of course not.” Lana chuckles lightly to herself. “You’ve been cursed, haven’t you, child?”
Slowly, one of her black manicured nails draws possessively across the man's back.
“I can help you, and that’s why you're here….”