i see the light ; snowbaz!tangled

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Baz

I keep thinking about his power. How he glowed, golden light coursing round him, haloing him. It was beautiful.

I'm desperate to go back, to be honest. He's so mysterious, and he doesn't even seem to realise it. And I'm sure Malcolm will be happy to get some proper dirt on the Mage.

I wonder what Fiona would think. She's always hated the Mage, so I know I would just be giving her an opportunity to bitch. But I wonder what she would say about Simon, kept away from everyone and everything, forced to fight everyday to prepare for a battle he had no choice in fighting in. Christ, it's so depressing.

Simon

I don't get a wink of sleep. I can't stop thinking about Baz. Every time my mind drifts off, it circles back to him. How confident he was, and how self assured.

His jibes at the Mage felt personal. They still hurt, as though they were physical blows. But when he left, that was more painful. I doubt he'll ever come back. Honestly, I'll put up with whatever his politickal views are, as long as he comes back. The tower feels so much emptier at night, when everything is so silent that my heartbeat sounds like a drum.

I can't accept the fact that it's my fault that I shooed Baz away. I was the one who shouted at him. I still hate him, just a little bit. For breaking the one thing that I had. Even though the cracks in the foundation were already there. They were there a long time ago. But I can't help loving the Mage.

Right now, my mind is spiralling. I keep running through what I know, but Baz's posh voice keeps interrupting and questioning everything. It goes something like this:

Right, the Mage is in the wrong for putting me in this tower, I know that, but he did it for a good reason. He was trying to protect me--

From what? You are perfectly capable of defending yourself from whatever. After all, you've trained for long enough.

Yes, but from the influence of other people--

Is that for your or the Mage's benefit, though? Does he want to protect you from their influence because they are 'evil overlords', or because he knows in the back of his mind that what they are saying isn't strictly untrue, and he's scared that you might agree with them?

No, the Mage is right. Why else would he be the Mage?

What about all the corrupt leaders you read about in Magickal History? In World History? Just because he's the most powerful, doesn't mean he's the most perfect.

No, but I know the Mage. He's not evil.

Do you really know the Mage? Really? Do you know where he goes every day? Did you know that he was headmaster of a magickal school before today? Do you even know his name?

I groan. It's been going around like this for at least half an hour. Baz is a very good arguer, inside and outside my head. I'm tempted to sneak out, try and find him. But I quickly realise how stupid that would be. I have no idea where he lives. He could live on the other side of the country, for all I know. I creep over to the window- I know I'm alone, but I think it's a side effect of having so little privacy for all my life. The Mage just walks into my room without knocking, and if he says anything he won't wait for a response most times. I'm scared to even have a wank.

I look out at the dark sky. It's littered with stars. I can name all of the constellations. I learned them all when I was about thirteen, when the Mage got me a book on space for my thirteenth birthday. I never got any sleep that year. I was also bored out if my mind and constantly was trying to find new things to do that wasn't fighting a new kind of monster. But that wasn't new.

I think I have an odd amount of niche skills. Single player chess. Knitting. (Badly.) Table football. (I used to have a real football, but I broke one of the Mage's fancy vases and he threw it out the tower. He was properly pissed. I think it was expensive.)

I hope Baz doesn't think it's too weird. If he ever comes back, that is. Which he won't. But you know. Hypothetically.

I used to hate silence. It terrified me. It's why I used to talk out loud to myself. (I still do.) But it was a constant thing. Just so I wouldn't accept the silence. But I've grown used to it. My brain fills in the spaces with white noise. Random, endless chatter, so I never have to really face it.

The night is beautiful, though. Even if I'm so bored of looking out at the same view every day, for my whole life, I can still appreciate it.

There's a house in the distance. I only noticed it last year, because I was only just tell enough to see over the trees. It's huge. A manor, I think. I wonder if it's Baz's house.

Baz

I can see the tower from my balcony. It's right in my eyeline. I don't know why I never noticed it before now. Probably because I've never been particularly inclined to stand on an ancient crumbling stone balcony that could probably collapse any second. I wonder if Snow could see me from here.

I get the torch on my bedside table. (I used to be scared of the dark, and the manor is definitely haunted. I'm not scared anymore, but I keep it there anyway.) I flash it on and off a few times. I wish I knew Morse code.

Simon

I see a light blinking in the distance. U, B, X?

I get my lantern.

Baz

Three short, three long, three short. Even I know what that means. SOS.

Simon

The light goes off. Maybe it was Baz.

Wishful thinking.

Baz

I'm coming.