Bound- Red Threads of Fate Jaya AU

How to be brave

Note: I completely forgot to post this yesterday! It's quite short compared to some of the other chapters, but I wasn't feeling super inspired when I wrote it. I think you might like a certain part of it anyway though :)

This is crazy.

You're nuts.

How could you believe such a thing?

"Stop!" Jay said aloud, sitting up in bed. His bedroom was cold, and moonlight streamed in through the small window. That stupid brain of his just kept saying unhelpful things. At this point, he'd never get to sleep.

The last time he'd had insomnia this bad, it'd resulted in him running away and visiting Nya in the middle of the night. He definitely wasn't doing that again–he'd just seen her mere hours ago. And besides, the sooner he talked to her again, the sooner he might have to hear her say something like the things the voice in his head kept repeating. That this plan was ridiculous. That it was too dangerous. That he was blinded by his love.

But if he was, he was pretty sure she was too.

He laid back down and pulled up the quilt his mother had made for him when he was six years old. His mother–his heart ached to think of leaving her, of leaving his father, of leaving his home. He knew he should feel lucky to have them, and he did–after all, what was the alternative? Poor Nya didn't even know if her parents were still alive. At least when–if–he left, he'd know they were still here, waiting for him to make things better.

But would they be? A terrifying thought entered his mind–what if the queen or someone found out he was missing? What would they do to his parents, just in an attempt to get information out of them? Of course, nothing ever happened around here, but he had heard that in the royal city, punishments for crime were severe.

It wasn't like he could take them along, though. That would be even more dangerous, and besides, if they refused, they'd know, and wouldn't be able to plead innocent so easily. If anyone even found out, which was unlikely. They were much more likely to notice the disappearance of Nya, or even Cole, a soldier who worked for the queen.

He sighed. Maybe he had gone mad. This plan was crazy dangerous, after all–and they didn't even know for sure if there even was a place they could get out.

He must have slept only a few hours, because when he woke again the sun was only barely peeping over the horizon, casting a slightly red glow through the darkness. Something was making a tapping noise, or maybe it was more of a knocking.

He sat up, and looked around. Then he saw her in the window. He almost didn't recognize Nya. Her hair was pulled back, and she was wearing simple clothes instead of her usual fine silks, but of course he thought her just as beautiful as ever. He quickly went over to open the window, wincing slightly as he caught a glimpse of himself in the glass. His hair was less than neat, and of course he was wearing only blue striped pajamas. Not that his usual clothes were that much nicer, but . . . wait, since when did he think about clothes anyway?

"Sorry to wake you." Nya said, blushing. She thought, privately, that he looked adorable, but she would never say so. "I've done that twice now."

"Well, I did it to you, too." He said. "Why are you here again so early?"

"I just came to tell you that I'm going to see my brother. Discuss wheel choices with him, if you know what I mean." She winked, but he still noticed the fear in her warm brown eyes. "Oh goodness. This is so crazy."

"It is," He agreed.

"Do you even want me to tell him? It's okay if not. I can be sneaky."

"Nya, you're not that good of a liar."

"Your parents believe whatever I tell them." She said it jokingly, but looked away from him. "Sorry."

"That's because you're the thread-mage, not because you're a good liar."

"And that is precisely why we're in this mess." She sighed, leaning against the house. "I'm so sorry. I wish–"

"It's not your fault." He promised. "I love you, weird powers and all."

He had surprised both her and himself–the words had just slipped out, and he hadn't had time to think.

"But don't you love your family more?" He noticed that she didn't repeat his words. But that was fine. It was scandal for her to say them.

"I'm sorry," She said for a third time. "I shouldn't ask you things like that. I just want to make sure you've thought this through as much as possible. And that I have, too."

"Trust me, I've thought about it every minute I've had since Cole told me." He assured her. "And I think . . . I think we should do it. It will be dangerous, but it'll be for the good of everyone. Of all the good people here, and all the future generations. If we can change things, we can make a huge difference. And . . . you know."

"We can be just like any other soulmates." She finished for him. "Except, you know, having saved the world and all."

"Not the world. Just the kingdom. And ourselves."

"I think that's enough." She turned to face him. "Don't you?"

"I think it's perfect." He said. "If we can really do it."

"Of course we can do it. We won't quit until we have." She smiled. "So I'll tell my brother?"

"Yeah."

"And . . . I guess you can tell your friend." She said. "About . . . us."

He nodded. "I should probably write to Cole." He took her hand and shook it. "Good luck."

"You too." She stepped closer and kissed him on the cheek. Then she left without another word.

He stood there for a long time, watching the sun rise. He could hardly believe any of this–he was going to run away, see the world, and make things better. And the prettiest girl he had ever met had just kissed him.

What an interesting turn of events, he thought. So funny that this all should happen to boring old me.

It hasn't all happened yet, he reminded himself, going over to his desk. Well, it was more of a workbench than a desk, but whatever. He opened the drawer, dug among the bent and worn tools his parents had let him keep over the years, and found a mostly full jar of ink and a quill pen that had been partially crushed under a wooden mallet. From another drawer, he took out a roll of brown paper he usually used for sketching designs, and ripped off a piece. It wasn't exactly parchment, but it'd do.

He spread out the paper on his desk, opened the jar of ink, and tried to think of what to write. He couldn't say too much, but although he and Cole knew each other very well, he couldn't be so cryptic that his friend might get confused about what he meant. Finally he thought of something, and started to write.

Cole–

I've been thinking about what you told me when we saw each other last, and I have a . . . reason that I might actually do it. I know it sounds crazy, but this would be worth it–and it's not just about my weird inventions. It's something else. Someone else.

Ugh, that's probably really confusing. But I know someone who really needs to leave. And I want to go with her. Yes, a girl. I know you'll tease me, but only until you know the whole story. It's quite something.

You told me that you'd be getting leave to come home soon, and I hope you can, because as you can see there's a lot I have to tell you. And I understand completely if you don't want to go yourself. But I have a few reasons you might want to. And we wouldn't stay away from home forever. We could come back and make things better.

Anyway, think about it. And I hope to see you soon!

Your Best Friend