Looking back, Shirayuki hardly noticed the first time he did it.
She is sitting on a bench outside the Starlight Gate, trying to settle her nerves while she waits for the last of the baggage to be loaded onto the carriage that will ferry her to her homeland. The thud of a modest traveling case hitting the ground in front of her drags her attention away from the dance steps she was trying to recall. She looks up to find Obi, hands on his hips as he observes the footmen scurrying around.
“Is that all you are bringing?” she asks, thinking of the three trunks that had been required to hold the dresses and shoes that had been prepared for her trip.
“That’s all of it,” he confirms, toeing the case. Despite how light he was traveling compared to her, the tone of his voice conveys his general dissatisfaction with his baggage. Her face must convey her confusion, since he elaborates. “It’s my rule to dress so I can move about freely…” he offers, tugging ruefully at his clothes, less formal than Mitsuhide and Kiki’s usual garb, but more constricting than the lightweight gear he had worn when they first met, “But I have to wear this uniform…”
He trails off with a shrug, but Shirayuki nods, understanding the appeal of traveling light. She had done so herself during her flight from Tanbarun, throwing only the most essential of her belongings in a single bag. Left to her own devices, she supposed the belongings she would pack for a trip to her former home would still fit in that same bag. However, neither one of them has much control over the bells and whistles required for an official state visit.
That realization brings her a feeling of kinship with the habitually mysterious guard. Despite his tendency to chatter, Obi rarely said anything meaningful, let alone anything that revealed personal details or opinions. In a way, Shirayuki knows precious little about him aside from his name, and she isn’t even greatly confident in the veracity of even that. Given how much time he now spends shadowing her, he seems to have at least a semi-permanent position as her guard, so it would be nice if she could learn a little more about him.
Perhaps this trip will be a good opportunity to get to know him better…
“Obi?” she asks hopefully, “This time are you going to ride in the carriage?”
“No,” he answers, shortly but cheerfully, “I’m going to follow you on horseback.”
“Of course,” she murmurs, more to herself than anything else. His distaste for carriages was one of the few things she did know about her mysterious companion. “By the way, I didn’t know you were going to accompany me until last night.”
“Oh really?” he looks a bit uncomfortable, and pointedly avoids her gaze, hand raising to kneed at his right shoulder, “Well, I hope you don’t mind, Miss.”
“Oh no,” she reassures quickly, “I’m grateful!” She bows her head, “Thank you for coming with me.”
Her show of gratitude only discomfits him further, his fingers digging further into his shoulder. He asks if she knows about how he wound up accompanying her but refuses to provide any further details when pressed. He does mention something about Zen wishing he could accompany her. They exchange a bit more small-talk about the logistics of the upcoming trip until Lord Haruka arrives, followed shortly thereafter by Prince Zen and his retinue. The action is lost in the haze of the day’s travel, and then again in the face of being kidnapped – twice! – and nearly being sold into slavery. She does notice him rubbing at the joint a few more times on their return to Wistal, but honestly attributes it to a nervous habit given it most often appears in moments of tension or discomfort.
In fact, it’s only after he follows her to Lyrias the second time that Shirayuki realizes Obi’s nervous tic is – at least partially – more than that. It’s chilly at best in Lyrias, and bone-chillingly frigid at worst, and the frequency of his kneading increases as the temperature drops. She begins to notice the degree of discomfort accompanying the motion during their first winter in the North, on a deeply subzero day.
Shirayuki reluctantly emerges from her blankets, instantly regretting the decision when the chill of the floor seeps through her thickest pair of socks to freeze her feet. She figures there is no recovering the heat she has lost at this point, and bundles up to make her way to the lab. Surely some academic had figured out how to maintain a comfortable temperature in the laboratory building on cold days, right? Unfortunately, that assumption is sadly untrue, and the research wing is somehow even more frigid than the rest of the keep. And so she joins the others, huddling close in a pile of labcoats and scarves, staring desperately at their manual-less and sadly unlit coal brazier.
“Well, don’t you all look cozy,” Obi drawls, sweeping into the room along with a draft of chilly air from the hallway. He looks remarkably comfortable despite the weather, but is dressed notably warmer than usual, including a fur-lined cowl and half cape. “Did someone steal the lab coal bucket or something?”
“Save us Obi,” Suzu groans from his place in their sad pile, “They left us alone with no heat.”
“So they have, must be a new recruit on heating duty this morning,” her knight laughs, now long past the mistaken assumption that learned academics could perform day-to-day tasks with ease, “Let’s see if we can’t figure it out.”
And of course, within a few minutes, the brazier is lit and warmth slowly begins to return to their frozen bodies. Since the brazier took the full coal bucket to load and light, Obi also leaves to refill it for them from the common storeroom in the basement. As he settles the bucket back down, Obi narrates the lighting and refilling process to Suzu, who nods along agreeably as if they do not both know the knight will surely need to rescue the academics from their chill again in the future. As he chatters, he puts down the heavy bucket, then raises a hand to his shoulder and works at it absently. For a split second, she sees a slight grimace pass over his features, but it vanishes quickly. Her brow furrows, and she moves towards him, concerned he may have pulled something hauling that bucket around, “Obi-”
“OH MY GOD!” Yuzuri shrieks upon her arrival to an unexpectedly warm lab, “IT’S ACTUALLY WARM HERE, WHO DID THIS???”
She quickly deduces Obi - the only non-academic in the room - is their savior, and begins to sing his praises. Her moment to bring up his shoulder is lost in the wave of well-deserved praise for her knight, and besides, she can see he is moving the limb just fine now, so perhaps it is nothing. She can always ask again later…
--
Later comes in with the winter snows, and the one-two hit of heavy winter precipitation and shoveling duty. Being affiliated with the guard in Lyrias means being on the hook for at least some shoveling - not even Lord Makiri can escape a mandatory shift or two with a shovel. This of course means Obi is drafted into service, and so on snowy days his visits to the pharmacy labs are short. On one morning after a particularly nasty snow storm, Obi manages to nab a shoveling shift near the research wing, and so has time to stop by for a chat between his other duties.
“Why is it always Thursdays with the snow?” he whines, temporarily shedding his snow-caked outer layers, “My Fridays are busy enough with the meetings Makiri makes me go to, and now I gotta take shovel shifts between them too?” He flops down on his traditional spot near the window he arrived through, and gratefully accepts a cup of tea, “Literally any other day would be fine, but we’re going on three weeks in a row of this.”
“Now that you mention it,” Suzu chimes in from his bench, “it is a little weird it keeps happening on the same day of the week.” He gets a distant look on his face, “I wonder what the actual probability of it is?”
“Oh no,” Yuzuri groans, “Please, it’s too early for math.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Suzu reassures, “Statistics isn’t really math.” He rises to start scribbling on a chalk board, “Plus it’s a simple problem - just multiply the individual probabilities of snow happening on a Thursday together, right?”
“But what would that probability be?” Ryuu joins Suzu at the board, “There isn’t an equal probability of snow on any given day of the year, let alone on any specific Thursday.”
“Well, we could at least start by figuring out a baseline probability of snow each month, I bet you someone in the meteorology group has some numbers we can start with…”
“This all sounds like math to me…” Obi mutters, and privately Shirayuki agrees.
“Right?” Suzuri nods vigorously, “It’s always like this with them, and even worse if Kazaha is around too.” She buries her head in her hands, “This one time a patient asked about the frequency of illnesses in Lyrias and…”
As his attention is drawn by Suzuri’s lively narration of the drawn-out statistical debacle that arose from that patient’s innocent question, Shirayuki notices his hand drifting up to his shoulder. He kneeds at it thoughtlessly and then rotates the joint in it’s socket. Her level of concern ratchets up - she had thought perhaps lugging around the coal earlier in the winter had aggravated some recent injury, but now that she’s thinking about it, she’s noticed him working at it fairly frequently in the weeks since. Perhaps the injury was an old one that caused a nagging pain - her grandfather had a bad knee that acted up in the cold and snow, so perhaps Obi had similar issues? There was only one way to find out.
“Hey Obi-”
“Sir Obi!” the door bursts open, and a young guard spills into the room, “Here you are, Lord Makiri has us looking everywhere for you!” The guard shoves a missive into Obi’s hands, “Urgent message from the commander, he needs you at once in his office.”
Obi glances at the note, groaning slightly at whatever it says, “There goes the rest of my day.” He nods at the pharmacists, and offers an apologetic smile at Shirayuki, “I’ll try to stop in later, Miss, but failing that, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“As soon as I can” winds up being three days, and he returns full of stories of his escapades tracking down some bandits. The intent to follow up is there, of course, but somehow it slips to the bottom of the list and asking about his shoulder is once more pushed to later.
--
Unfortunately, the departure of winter weather doesn’t take all of Obi’s shoulder pain with it. Since coming to Lyrias, Obi had in many ways come into the service of Lord Makiri, although of course his duties as Shirayuki’s knight always came first. Makiri is a man with an eye for talent, and immediately attempted to formally lure Obi into his service. Failing that, the man became determined to squeeze every ounce of utility out of her knight for as long as he can. Most days, that takes the form of running regular patrol sessions and helping oversee the city guard, including participating and offering his own unique training sessions. Other times, it takes the form of running special missions, such as the past winter’s bandit case. These things benefit Obi of course, as the regular activity combined with a steady diet of bone-sticking stews and buns had bulked him up and further sharpened his keen senses. But some of these activities took a harsher physical toll.
“Ughhhhhhhh,” Obi slumps onto the dinner table, temporarily blocking the space for his dishes, “Spear practice days are the WORST.”
“There, there,” Suzu pats his hair, “It must be so hard being a hot guard twirling cool kill sticks around while the city ladies watch.”
“Hardy har,” Obi, unamused, pushes Suzu’s hand away as he rises to a proper sit, “You’re always welcome to join in on training if you want.” The threat of physical activity immediately sends Suzu skittering back, hands raised in surrender, “No? I’m sure I could get Shidan to excuse you once a week or so.”
“I admit defeat,” and with that the researcher slinks away, leaving only Ryuu and Shirayuki at their table.
“Hard day on the fields?” Shirayuki asks, grabbing a bowl to dish out a hearty serving of their dinner of a rich pork stew for her knight.
“Spear day,” he nods, “All the days with proper weapons are the worst.” He sends Shirayuki a grateful smile as she sets his meal in front of him, “Form this; technique that; it seems a lot of hassle when things go out the window in the heat of the moment.”
Neither Shirayuki or Ryuu can offer much in the way of commiseration, but they nod agreeably anyway. This seems to soothe Obi, and the three of them pick up their usual dinnertime ritual of catching up on the day’s events. As they chat about the usual chaos of the laboratory and the gritty details of the spear-training session, Obi begins another nightly habit - engaging in a good stretch. As he stretches out his back and arms, however, Shirayuki notices a brief flash of discomfort, and sure enough, his hand rises to work at his shoulder. Finally, a perfect opportunity to ask about his shoulder, and surely nothing would interrupt them during their dinner!
“Hey Obi, over the past couple of months I’ve noticed you -”
“Sir Obi!” a chorus of voices suddenly chimes, and their table is swarmed by a veritable crowd of young recruits, all clamoring for a private audience with Obi after his “masterful” display with the spear and his knives earlier in the day. She seethes silently as the soldiers coerce her knight into an impromptu demonstration of his skills, and then drag him off to the training fields for a hands-on lesson. It’s nice to see Obi be recognized for his skills, but Shirayuki can’t help but wonder why it had to happen today and at this exact moment. If she weren’t a scientist, she would have thought the universe was conspiring against her, or perhaps against Obi’s shoulder specifically.
--
“Shirayuki,” Ryuu appears at her desk the next week, holding out a small ceramic pot, “I couldn’t help but notice you were staring at Obi’s shoulder last week at dinner as well.” She opens the pot to find it contains a rich cream compounded with muscle-relaxing herbs and oils, very much like the one that has sat in her own pouch for the last few months, “Maybe you’ll have better luck than me delivering this to him?”
And so her one-woman mission becomes a two-pharmacist one, although neither would turn out to have luck over the next few months.
--
Things finally come to a head during their second winter in Lyrias. The first big snow storm of the year is rolling in, bringing an icy chill to the air, and a persistent ache to Obi’s shoulder with it. He’s spent an unusually long amount of time in the pharmacy today, as nearly the entire guard roll has been placed on standby to be ready to respond for shovel duty once the snow arrives. She’s been busy with her usual daily tasks, but has spotted Obi absently rubbing at his shoulder all day long.
Today, she thinks to herself, as her work day nears its end, and Obi is still idling in the lab, chattering to her about everything and nothing, as is his wont, as they have plans for dinner later tonight, Surely today is the day.
She finishes straightening up her desk, and grabs one of the pots of salve her and Ryuu have stationed in and around the pharmacy and their quarters. She turns towards Obi, opens her mouth and -
“Lady Shirayuki?”
Gods Damn It!
Turning towards the door, Shirayuki spots one of the new technicians approaching her desk. It’s painfully obvious they are nervous - their hands are practically clenched into knots - so she pushes down the urge to scream at being interrupted yet again.
“Yes, how can I help you?”
“I just have a question about the Olin maris lux variety,” the technician waves their lab notebook around, “I noticed in the greenhouse that we have the temperature set to 10 degrees, but in the original technical note…”
As the technician’s question expands and becomes more and more technical, Obi loses interest and wanders over to the window, his arms crossed behind head. Shirayuki honestly wishes she could join him, as she's had this same conversation multiple times with other new technicians that assumed reading technical briefings made them experts in horticulture and pharmacy. He twists, ducking slightly to stare up at the sky, likely trying to gauge the clouds. She can practically see the gears turning in his head as he calculates if they will have time to get to and from the tent district before the snow starts.
Her attention shifts back to the student as their “question” about the growing conditions for Olin maris finally finishes.
“Well, we have learned quite a bit since our original technical note was published,” Shirayuki states, “And we’ve adjusted our rearing conditions accordingly.” She quickly scans her desk for a copy of the current operating protocol, but it must be in her lab notebook or something, “I can pass along a copy of the rearing plans to you tomorrow, and then set a meeting to discuss any concerns you have after you see those?”
“I mean, I’d appreciate that, but weren't the conditions in the original technical paper necessary for…”
As she listens to the non-question of the technician, she sends Obi a look that screams “couldn't this have been a letter?”, and catches him in the act of kneading his shoulder again. She forces her attention back to the technician, trying to speed along the conversation and get back to her evening and her long-delayed task of seeing to her knight’s discomfort. It takes far longer than she would have preferred, but some minutes later their questions are answered, at least enough for now, and the technician departs with a promise to return during tomorrow's office hours.
“Bet you are looking forward to that,” Obi quips as he approaches her desk, “But the good news is I think the snows will hold off enough to make it to the tent district and back again.” He launches into a story about another guard and their way to “read the sky” with 1000% accuracy, and distractedly kneads at his shoulder. “Probably hocus pocus, but it's probably just as accurate as Professor Green's forecast. Besides, Suzu put money in the pot on snow arriving before midnight and we all know how rarely he wins bets! Did you get in on the-”
“Is your shoulder bothering you?” she interrupts his rambling, almost disbelieving that the moment has finally come.
“Oh,” his eyes widen, and the hand immediately drops from his shoulder, “It’s fine. Just a little stiff from the weather, nothing of importance.” He resumes his prior ramble as an attempt to deflect her attention, “So anyway about the pot-”
“Obi!” she interrupts again, loudly. It startles him, and her a little too - but she's not letting this chance slip by, not again.
“Obi,” she repeats, her voice gentle now, “I know it hurts.” She approaches him slowly, reaching for his arm in a silent request for access. He reluctantly holds out his limb, and then allows her to rotate it gently.
“It’s the weather, isn’t it?” she asks as she probes the joint, feeling the tension in his muscles and the slight reduction in his range of motion, “It’s worse before storms like this, right?”
“And on cold days,” he admits, quietly, “It's always been that way, nearly as long as I can remember.”
“And spear days, I bet, because that’s what tipped Ryuu off.”
“Little Ryuu noticed too?” he asks, sounding surprised that not one but two people would care about his wellbeing enough to notice him grimacing in pain.
“Of course he did,” she says, showing him the container of salve from her desk, “He even made this batch of muscle balm with me, and helped me hide them all over the lab so whichever one of us pinned you down first would have a pot handy.” She releases his arm, and gestures towards one of the lab's exam rooms, “Now come in here and let me help you.”
And so, at long last, Shirayuki was able to properly examine her knight’s shoulder. She didn't learn it that night, but he later revealed the ache stemmed from a poorly healed injury from the past, perhaps a broken collarbone or maybe just a severe sprain. It wasn't something that could be fixed, but the pain was something they could improve with soothing balms and anti-inflammatory tinctures. It also gave him a free get-out-of-jail card for spear day, under “Pharmacist's Orders” as he gleefully told Makiri. Of course, nothing would stop Obi from pulling stunts that would aggravate the old injury, such as scaling castle walls or hanging one handed from trees to impress recruits, so the gesture never completely vanished, but Ryuu and Shirayuki were satisfied that cold days no longer guaranteed the appearance of a hand working at Obi’s shoulder.
Welcome back one and all to our eighth annual Obiyuki Week! Our theme this year is:
Courtly Love
Popular in medieval Europe, especially the ducal and princely courts that now make up France, courtly love is a genre of literary fiction in which a knight would endeavor to make himself worthy of the love and attention of his lady by both his honorable behavior, and by subjecting himself to a series of ordeal to prove his commitment to her.
Each day will have a prompt inspired by one of the elements of courtly love, as well as a few themes that can be used to inspire works or continue existing ones. This ship week is open to all Obiyuki works, so even if a submission does not quite fit the day, please feel free to post and join in!
Day 1: Attraction to the Lady, usually via secret glances
Themes: Eyes, Love at First Sight, Meet Cute; Pink
Day 2: Worship of the Lady from afar
Themes: Pining, Long Distance, Hands; Gold
Day 3: Declaration of Passionate Devotion
Themes: Confessions, Heat of the Moment, Devotion; Orange
Day 4: Virtuous Rejection by the Lady
Themes: Indecision, Miscommunication, Hurt Them to Save Them; Blue
Day 5: Renewed Wooing with Oaths of Virtue and Eternal Fealty
Themes: Reunion, First Date, Big Damn Kiss; Sepia
Day 6: Heroic Deeds of Valor to Win the Lady’s Heart (Free Day)
Took a small break from frantic bingo writing to make this for @puffdragongirl‘s birthday! Robin asked for MORE OD ANA, and since I had always meant to continue with this fic…I was happy to tack another chapter on!
The petal and wings of Wisteria may burst across this man’s throat, but he’s no royal messenger Od Ana’s ever seen. Too young, for one; his pale hair fluffs out from his scalp like a chick’s feathers, kind that shouldn’t be wandering so far out from under their mother’s nethers. His daemon’s been ridden hard too, her flanks heaving the way an experienced rider would never allow.
Still, she’s got enough spirit in her to give Od Ana one of those wall-eyed stares, the kind that shows white all around. That’s what they get, having their reputation precede them like it does. The prince’s messenger and his witch daemon. Sometimes he’s got her so far away you can’t even see her. Can’t trust a man like that.
They’re lucky that daemon doesn’t take more after a horse and balk for the shock of it.
The moment he steps out onto the soccer field for PE class, it’s like he can hear the air sighing, laden with the humidity, as it drapes itself over his shoulders with a flourish.
Lilia enjoys the school’s outdoor curriculum (And truly, he does. Watching the novice mages stretch their little wings and fumble about on their broomsticks was the always one of the highlights of his day) but the subtropical climate of Sage’s Island has always vexed him. If only they could have class indoors at the gym, instead. Or even at Diasomnia, where it was always so deliciously overcast.
Lilia clicks his tongue as he drags his sleeve across his forehead again, noting that he’ll need to switch to his other sleeve in a moment, as this one is already growing damp with sweat.
After an hour, he sits down on the grass and closes his eyes.
“Father.”
A soft voice cuts through the air. He looks up and sees Silver standing over him, his hair blazing like white fire as the sun bears down on them, a small frown tugging at his lips.
“Are you alright? Do you want me to get you some water?”
Lilia somehow manages to twist his face into what he hopes is a smile and assures the boy he’s alright. He just needs to rest his legs for a bit, is all.
Silver sighs like a punctured balloon and squats down, his back facing Lilia.
“Let me carry you back to the dorm.”
“Oh, come now. I’m old but I’m not feeble, I can-“
“Father, please.”
It’s not often that Silver’s voice hitches like this, and Lilia knows from 17 years of untempered patience not to push him any further. He crawls over and hooks his arms and legs around the boy, and Silver rises.
Lilia feels his sweat seeping into Silver’s uniform, but the boy doesn’t complain, doesn’t even waver as he rises from the ground as steadily and effortlessly as the moon orbits the earth. As Silver turns to follow the other Diasomnia students leaving the field, Lilia closes his eyes again, and wonders just when his son’s back got so broad.
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