Water and Wind

Chapter 39

Lucifer

This time it is he who stalks ahead, biting back the furious word that would otherwise spill out of his mouth unchecked. Years outside the forest have done more to him than they think.

Arian follows in his footsteps, occasionally redirecting them, but Lucifer finds this all the more irritating. He doesn't need shoulder taps, or small nudges anymore than Arian himself does, but he knows that as soon as he opens his mouth, one thing will lead to another, and things will escalate fast. He breaths out of his nose sharply. How many times has that happened already? Push always comes to shove, and shove goes to tackle, and tackle to... well, kill. It's usually kill. He hurries on, still counting his angry thoughts with each heavy footfall.

Arian didn't think he'd have liked to see the shoe, had a chance to hold a part of Nimue again? Lucifer shoots his follower a glare that Arian can't see as he cradles the sandal, seemingly walking blind. Lucifer's boot treads stab the soil for penance. That's right. His friend is selfish. Look at him, taking Nimue the moment Lucifer himself had left the premises. Stab. Stab. Stab.

He takes a hard left, but Arian taps his right shoulder to correct him, and for an instant, he feels like spinning on his heel and hurling Arian all the way back to the river. Stab. Stab. Stab.

Arian

It's very clear what Lucifer's thoughts are right now. Arian hasn't grown up comrade in arms with him for so long not to know, especially when his thoughts are so visible. Living outside the forest has made him more guarded, it's true, but somewhere inside him is a weak link that lets Arian see inside him more clearly, rather like a peephole at a solid steel door. Maybe that link is Nimue.

And because that may be, he lets it slide, shuffling his own feet to cover up the heavy treads of Lucifer's feet, stark, shallow holes against the soil. His hand squeezes the shoe tighter- he's not willing to let it go. Not just yet.

Lucifer

Somewhere along the way, he realizes how obvious he is making his thoughts. His post-forest life was his best educator at hiding his thoughts, his actions... himself. But now in the company of one of his oldest friends, he is getting sloppy, and that is something he cannot abide by. So he does as he was taught, shutting down his thoughts without flinching, and hurries his mind into another room.

For some reason, it's the sandal.

He thinks of its loneliness, missing its pair, the fine craft, the detail, everything. But there's something else. He turns so fast that Arian crashes directly into him, and he shakes away his lingering annoyance in favor of holding out his hand.

"I need the sandal."

Arian stares at him, clearly unsure of whether he should give it to him. Lucifer feels his debate, the conflict in him as he weighs the shoe in his hand. Weighs. Weighs. Oh dear god. Without warning, he snatches it, feeling the straw transfer over into his own palm. He feels the heaviness sink into his hand, but instead of being glad that it's there, he collapses to his knees.

Oh dear god.

Arian

Angered, he jumps down to his own knees and yanks the shoe from Lucifer's hand. Lucifer doesn't even move a muscle, and Arian raises his eyebrows in surprise. He'd expected more of a fight. Lucifer raises his eyes to Arian wearily, and shakes his head.

"What? What!" Arian explodes, not putting up with any of this. Something flashes in Lucifer's eyes, something dangerous, but it is quelled by something more serious.

"Think about it Arian." Lucifer's voice is no longer harsh, but choppy and unbalanced, as if it has been broken into fragmented glass. "How much has the weight changed since you drew it out of the water?"

It is only then that Arian realizes, and he nearly drops the sandal on Lucifer as he fumbles it. When he pulled it out, it was light, not even waterlogged. And now? It might as well be a leaden brick. He feels something collapse in the pit of his stomach. How could he not have realized?

Staring, he drops the sandal and bends down. And for the first time in 6+ years, he reaches his hand down for his friend's, and pulls him to his feet. "We're almost out of time." Both break into a sprint.