i see the light ; snowbaz!tangled

vii

Baz

When I get there, I hear Snow's voice echoing from the tower.

"Fucking hell Baz," he says. I freeze. "It's not like they're going to send out a search and rescue party. They're probably asleep right now." He's talking to me. Not me, but his version of me. Aleister almighty, I'm probably so bitchy inside his head.

"Don't kid yourself. Whoever it was, they definitely didn't know Morse."

I grimace. I'm learning Morse code tomorrow.

"Yeah, definitely,"

He sighs. "Fucking fantastic," he says. It's so dry that it could've been me.

"You definitely don't have a saviour complex. If anything, you have a god complex."

I wince. Did I really come off that arrogant? We only met for a bit more than half an hour.

"Prat."

"Snow!" I shout. I really hope the Mage isn't there.

"I can hear you fine, Baz, you don't need to shout."

"No, it's me, the real Baz!" So fucking weird.

"Baz?"

A face appears at the window. Snow.

Simon

He's started talking to me again. Every time I try to go to sleep. It's like he's insistent on irritating me to death.

He's a niggling little voice in the back of my mind that just won't shut up. At least it's company, I guess.

Maybe that was me, he keeps saying. He's so cryptic.

Or maybe, the more likely option, is that it was someone checking whether their torch worked.

What if they were trying to signal something to you?

If they were trying to signal something to me, they would've known Morse code.

You never know. They could be out looking for you right now.

Fucking hell Baz. It's not like they're going to send out a search and rescue party. They're probably asleep right now.

They saw your SOS though.

Don't kid yourself. Whoever it was, they definitely didn't know Morse.

The Mage would do his nut if he knew you had been secretly trying to communicate with someone via Morse code.

Yeah, definitely.

How does it feel to be a rebel?

I sigh. Fucking fantastic.

Maybe I am coming. Maybe I'm coming right now.

You definitely don't have a saviour complex. If anything, you have a god complex.

Tosser.

Prat.

Snow!

I can hear you fine, Baz, you don't need to shout.

No, it's me. The real Baz!

Baz?

I go over to the window, and look out. Baz Pitch is looking up at me.

I told you I was coming.

Baz

"Baz! You came!"

"I now see that you're not in any imminent danger."

"So that is your house, over the trees!"

"Well, can I go now?"

"No! Just...just come up, alright?"

I oblige.

He's wearing a slightly less grubby t-shirt than last time, that reads Watford Lacrosse. Crowley, I know the Mage's dress is atrocious, but would it kill him to go into a shop? Even T K Maxx? He might as well send Snow to Watford. He practically dresses in the school uniform, anyway.

I stamp my feet on the floor to get the mud off. My trainers are sopping.

Snow is holding up a lantern. It's torn and folded, and fraying around the edges, but the sun design is still clear. "These lanterns go up every year, on my birthday. The Mage just says it's some weird hippie thing, but I don't know if I believe him anymore."

He looks hopeful, like he's been waiting a long time to ask someone this.

I take the lantern. It's covered with mud, and it's not even one of the nice ones.

"Well, he was lying to you." Snow nods eagerly. He's like a badly trained puppy.

"...On June 21st, about eighteen years ago, there was a burst of magic. Everyone felt it. It was like touching a live wire. People said that was the Chosen One, coming to save us. So when the Humdrum started getting worse, they started praying. And now people send up lanterns, as a signal for the Chosen One. It's more of a hope thing, though. You know, like solidarity. Against the Humdrum."

"Did you send out lanterns?"

"When I was younger I did. My younger sister still does. Everyone wants the Humdrum to be killed," I say, giving him a pointed stare. "Especially the Old Families."

He looks guilty.

"So I have my own festival?" he says, his eyes lighting up.

"Yes. Don't let it go to your head." He grins.

"It's really beautiful, though. It's my favourite thing. I always stay up late to watch them."

"Maybe you could see them up close one day."

"Maybe you could take me to see them," he says, giving me the side-eye. "It's June now, isn't it?"

I raise my eyebrows. "I'm not sure the Mage would be very keen on that idea," I say.

"No, I don't think he would." When he smiles, he uses his whole face, and his eyes light up.

He rubs his cheeks until they're a ruddy red colour. "He wants me to start going to Coven meetings."

I raise an eyebrow. "You should go. Bring it down from the inside."

He nods. "Yeah, I think I will. It's just... I don't know anything. I really don't see how I'd be of any use."

"You're a figurehead though."

"A what?"

"A figurehead. You know. Someone who shows everyone that the Mage is actually doing something. Even if he isn't."

"Oh."

"But you can certainly come with me to see the floating lanterns." He grins again.

"Thanks," he says.

"You're welcome."