13-

 

 

The Outskirts of Vascun were a strange hodgepodge of the rich and poor, virtue and vice. Although it seemed to be held by the same looming gray gloom as both sides of the inner city, it was a haze instead of a fog, seeping into neglected lots and alleys with the agility of a stray tomcat.

 

Although Locke Morningside had lived within Vascun for nearly two years, he had never really bothered to learn about the Outskirts. So, naturally, the first time he ever ended up lost unintentionally had to be the day he had a life-or-death deadline.

 

He kicked another trashcan for the hell of it when he turned into another low alley. It felt strange to see the sky straight above him, not to mention the blue of a breezy, crisp afternoon. Day was an old friend he wasn’t too sure he wanted to be acquainted with again. Life was so much easier when the shadows were five feet deep instead of slivers of darkness he’d probably have to actually work to stay in completely.

 

On a whim, he turned right. And left. And right again.

 

Locke found himself on Radiance Avenue, and held back a shriek.

 

The road was writhing with all the movement held within. Bodies crushed together as they fought over the market produce, or the newest garments up from Ivis, or the cheapest tools this side of The Gap. Voices shrieked at each other, the smells of expertly cooked meals for the well-off consumer, the feel of people smashing into him, the newer brick wall he squeezed himself against, it all assaulted his senses.

 

Now he remembered why he avoided Radiance Avenue. The whole place was sensory rape to a creature that thrived on silence.

 

Locke squeezed his eyes shut and tried to turn back the way he’d come, inching along the wall as the thunderous market smashed into him, trying to corrode his brain and make it rot away into their own state of zombie-like activity.

 

“Hey,” a familiar voice called at his ear, and Locke’s eyes burst open to see Aidenai. The usual rude thoughts were drowned in the noise, and the white-haired man latched on to his hand. “It’s okay, Locke. Come on.” Obedient for the first time in three years, the thief let him guide their way through the crowd and back into one of the neglected alleyways.

 

The din slowly faded away as Aidenai led him further from Radiance Avenue, navigating the Outskirts as Locke did the inner city. Locke followed, past shops and structures he’d never seen before, past homes and hospitals he’d never known the existence of before. And through it all, Aidenai silently tugged at his hand, guiding in a quiet show of knowledge Locke found himself envying.

 

“This muscle memory too?” he found himself saying, the usual biting sarcasm holding up even after a good twenty minutes of sensory overload.

 

Aidenai’s smile was disarming. “Please. As if any self-respecting Swordrush would be caught memorizing the streets of Vascun.” Another turn, and Locke could actually see outside of the city for the first time in eleven months. “I memorized the area around Radiance Avenue for a job.”

 

Read: possible exits for the target. Sometimes it was easy to forget the shorter (HA! Even if it was by only an inch or so…) man was an assassin. And sometimes it was excellent to get a reminder of the danger that implied, too.

 

Five minutes of silence afterwards, a familiar pair of heads- one blue, one blonde- popped into view, lounging on the low stone wall that separated Vascun from the open, wide world of Tormiad. The naked eye could see a grassy plain stretching as far as the eye could see, mountains peeking out in the west, but Locke knew what lay beneath. Those ‘plains’ were damn rocky, and he’d been caught in potholes as big as a deer enough times to not take traveling across it lightly.

 

“Good afternoon, Sage, Dante,” Aidenai called out cordially, and Dante merely stuck a hand up in greeting as Sage’s grin turned towards them.

 

“Well hello, you two,” Sage called out, standing from the ground and not seeming to care at all that his coat was probably stained from it now. Then again, knowing Sage the regal cream atrocity was probably laced with stain-resistant power he tricked someone into doing for him. “Sweet! I must say, you took your time getting here.”

 

“And you’re complaining?” Locke snorted. “Back in the day, you’d kill for any time you get to avoid the Travel Rules.”

 

“Travel rules?” Aidenai asked.

 

“No fighting, no fucking, share toys,” Dante called out.

 

“DANTE! Watch your language,” Locke snapped, ignoring the blatant hypocrisy.

 

“Well, that’s the abbreviated abbreviated version of it,” Sage said cheerily. “Basically, all extreme conflict is postponed while on the road, regardless of whether it’s positive or negative. But ONLY on the road.” Sage grinned. “So, as soon as we get to a town with an inn, the first two rules are void.”

 

“I’m sorry, but what’s this… ‘share toys’ rule mean?” Aidenai questioned.

 

“Basically that food and weapons are shared equally. Dante and Locke had troubles with that when they were young.”

 

“Hey, is it my fault the kid wanted to try out my throwing knives without knowing how to use them?” Locke frowned.

 

“Yes,” the other two stated.

 

“Shut up!” Locke snapped.

 

“All you really need to do is stick to business while traveling,” Dante called out, ignoring the older man. “The three rules are really one for each of us- we really annoyed Grigorsen back then. So, just stay nice while walking.”

 

“I understand,” Aidenai nodded.

 

“Excellent!” Sage smiled, and to Locke’s displeasure STILL seemed to radiate glee.

 

“WHY are you so happy today?” Dante demanded.

 

“I just had a good night last night, is all,” Sage grinned at him.

 

Locke knew where this would go, so he interrupted with a quick “Hey, where are we going?”

 

Three faces blinked up at him.

 

“…right,” Dante stated. “We should figure that out.” He turned to the assassin. “Aidenai?”

 

“I’d suggest west to Rinu. If it was really Nixas…that’s where to go.”

 

“Who’s Nixas?” Locke asked.

 

“But he’s working for Arven. They’d want to take Elya straight to Relic, wouldn’t they?”

 

“No, the capital’s not where he would take her first,” Aidenai shook his head, and Locke couldn’t help but notice he looked…SERIOUS. The smile was replaced with a deep frown, the sun and his long hair adding shadows to his already troubled face. It was a strangely dark side to the usually polite and amused man. “He’ll expect someone to follow. And he’ll run to where he knows best to take care of his pursuers.”

 

Locke’s brain snapped on. Place Nixas knows best is Rinu. The darker side of Aidenai’s face. Aidenai’s reaction to Elya’s drawing.

 

“Nixas is family, isn’t he.”

 

Aidenai turned towards Locke. For a moment, their eyes simply hooked onto each other, turquoise and maroon matched in an eerie compliment. The white-haired man nodded. “My older brother.” He paused. “I had thought he was dead.”

 

“He wouldn’t happen to be an overprotective freak in a black cloak, would he?” Locke asked, and Aidenai frowned.

 

“I haven’t seen him in sixteen years, aside from the picture,” he said, head tilting to the side, and a small smile slipping onto his lips. “Why?”

 

“No reason,” Locke shrugged, although the question ‘how old ARE you?’ seemed to burst into his cranium.

 

“That sounded like a reason to me,” Dante interjected.

 

“Why Locke, do you have a stalker?” Sage grinned lavisciously at him, and Locke glared at him.

 

“NO, I don’t.”

 

Sage’s grin widened. “It sure sounds like-”

 

“DROP IT.” Locke snapped, the memories of that night (was it really just two nights ago? Fuck, his life was WAY too eventful) still raw. Trying not to look at Aidenai, he shifted, glaring at Sage. His blue hair was such an easy target for mental poisoned arrows. “So, Rinu it is.”

 

“Rinu,” Sage agreed, and Dante nodded, finally standing up from the ground in his usual gray-and-blue Issued outfit, nearly identical to Locke’s save the knee-length coat. Apparently, there had been uniform changes in the last three years. His gray pants (with a black stripe down the side) met calf-length black boots, and Locke couldn’t help but wonder if that really matched protocol or not. If the sword earring did, Locke would give Aelar an entire fucking WEEK out, so it wasn’t as if a breach in etiquette would be any surprise when it came to Dante.

 

With a nod, the near-brothers fell into routine without a word passing between the three. Dante took point, Sage middle, and Locke waited for Aidenai to go in front of him.

 

Instead, they ended up staring at each other.

 

“GO.” Locke pointed towards the other two, who were staring at them.

 

Aidenai’s head tilted to the side. “Interesting choice, to make you rear guard.”

 

“Is this going somewhere? ‘Cuz, you know, we haven’t officially started traveling until either of us takes a step, so technically I could still cut off your finger without getting in trouble,” Locke growled.

 

Aidenai chuckled, eyes never leaving his. “Well then, let me take this moment to suggest it’s my right pinky?”

 

And then, Aidenai kissed him.

 

It was tentative, hesitantly sweet with an obvious restraint to it as their lips pressed together, Aidenai’s eyes shuttered as Locke’s widened to the size of cart wheels. Even though all he’d really done was put their lips together, Locke was stunned speechless, from both the absurd softness of the white-haired man’s lips to the way he was simply THERE, and then he was everywhere, and as pathetic as it seemed Locke felt like he was going to scream and faint if he didn’t do something to stop this- FUCK!

 

Tongue. That was the only word to describe that first feeling- tongue. Something hot and wet and far too experienced (MUSCLE MEMORY, his mind hissed venomously) slid inside his mouth and seemed to dance into all the right crevices, and Locke moaned, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth opened wider- wait, what the HELL?!

 

Locke punched him. HARD. With an “oof”, Aidenai tumbled to the ground. Never one for fair play (waste of time), Locke kicked him in the ribs, glaring daggers.

 

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” Locke roared at him, and was Aidenai LAUGHING?! Oh, that was it.

 

Tears were streaming down Aidenai’s soon-to-be swollen, grinning face as he laughed, clutching the ribs Locke begged he’d broken, and wished he’d been wearing hard-toed boots.

 

“Oh, come on, Sweet,” Sage called out. “I’d think even you’d know what a kiss is.”

 

“YOU STAY OUT OF THIS,” Locke snapped, and Sage shrugged, but complied. Not that Locke noticed, of course, he was too busy seething at Aidenai. “WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?!”

 

“Y-your FACE,” Aidenai managed to choke out between laughing fits. “You were so surprised!”

 

“OF COURSE I WAS!”

 

“He has a point, you know,” Dante added, smirking. “You looked like that time you asked Sage ‘What’s in that blue bottle?’”

 

“I’d say closer to when he got the answer,” Sage muttered wryly, and Dante chuckled. “Come on, Sweet. Time to go.”

 

“WHAT?!”

 

And then, Locke noticed he’d taken a step back when Aidenai had fallen, and that officially, falling down could count as that step.

 

“Shit,” Locke muttered, and glared one last time at Aidenai. “Next town? Your ass is MINE.” His words were a growl, inaudible to the further away Sage and Dante.

 

“Of course,” Aidenai beamed at him, and Locke clenched both teeth and fists, the mantra ‘NO FIGHTING NO FIGHTING NO FIGHTING’ the only thing keeping him from punching the assassin in the face for the innuendo.

 

…of COURSE Locke hadn’t meant it like that! Honestly. The nerve of some people.

 

“Come on, already,” Dante snapped, and with one final grin at him Aidenai caught up with the two, leaving Locke in his usual rear guard position, and fully willing to stew over everything he HATED about Aidenai Swordrush, the bitch. Oh yes. Next town, the man would pay.

 

As they walked on, a strangely comfortable diamond formation shaping, Locke couldn’t help it- he smiled. Now all he had to do was get his lips to stop tingling.