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Moppet!Douxie x GN!Reader, Soulmate AU | Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Warnings: Fire/Explosion, lots of crying, self esteem issues, misunderstandings cause a lot of emotional turmoil

Note: This is my first fic! I know fics have it worse than art, but if you'd consider leaving tips in the comments, I'd be super grateful! Thanks for taking a look!

It was springtime in Camelot, near the turn of the season. The sun was high, the birds were singing, and you... were late. As a magic user, your life was in constant jeopardy regardless of your employment as the Crowmaster, Crowlord Corbin’s apprentice, penning and sending letters for the kingdom. And in this kingdom, tardiness was not appreciated. Racing through the castle halls with the king’s letters in hand, you noticed movement on your forearms.

“I wonder what color their eyes are. I bet they’re lovely.”

Your lips curled in a tender smile at the curling words that appeared on your skin. Similar musings crossed your soulmate’s mind daily, not leaving your body free of the enigmatic “ink” for years.

No one, not even the renowned Merlin Ambrosius, knew the precise nature of the words that would mark people’s skin, only that they were your soulmate’s thoughts about you. Soulmates were a fickle thing, their connections varying with different cultural beliefs and changing as countries developed. In England, the written words made finding your soulmate a tad difficult as one couldn’t know if their other half was paying any mind when they tried to share personal details. It was said that once you know them wholly, you’re complete in all things. Whatever that means.

You’d once been impatient to meet your own, to know what it means to be complete, but after years of black markings coming and going, covering your body in kind words of admiration, you deemed them worth the wait.

You were shocked from your reverie in a flutter of parchment. You’d bumped into someone, the king’s letters falling to the ground right into… was that slorr juice? You didn’t even apologize to the raven-haired young man whose spell material you’d just gotten all over the floor. You were far too panicked. Knowing your animal magic was of no help here, you scrambled to salvage what you could.

Hisirdoux was in trouble. Merlin would have his head when he told him he lost the slorr juice to another bout of soulmate pondering, and have it again when he discovered that said juice is the reason the king didn’t receive his news regarding the upcoming royal summit. Douxie leaned forward to help but instead opted to frantically search his brace for anything that could help the poor apprentice in front of him.

When he’d finally found the rune, the Crowmaster had just finished shaking off what liquid they could from the sensitive documents. He quickly dried them hoping to save the ink on them as best he could, long fingers flitting over each. In a hurried frenzy of apologies and farewells, the hallway was emptied.

Merlin was less than pleased, and frankly, a little concerned. Douxie usually gets so cautious after a mistake that even Merlin feels his stress, but this was the third time this week. Why was he so focused on his soulmate? After a right scolding, Douxie retired to his room to study. Merlin nearly did a double-take at what was written on his young apprentice’s neck.

“He was quite kind.”

So they’d met. Did his soulmate know? Did Douxie know?

Over the next few weeks, you two kept running into one another. A passing here, an acknowledgment there. After about a month you’d come to look forward to seeing the boy trip over himself en route to Merlin’s study. You helped him carry supplies when the Crowlord was away and talked when he dropped off Merlin’s letters to the court magicians across England. For some reason, you found yourself hanging on his every word and smiling whenever you caught a glimpse of his adorable manbun weaving through the streets.

He felt the same. It was never enough to speak to you in passing and he even left long conversations with you feeling wanting. He doesn’t quite remember how he started, but it’d become a habit to watch you work through the large western tower window. He’d admire your tenderness with the crows and was warmed by your bond with your hawk familiar.

As you left the tower to retire for the night, he always thought you might be cold, but never gathered the courage to walk you to your chambers.

Douxie was concerned. The day was halfway through, winter clouds covering the high sun, and you were nowhere to be seen. He’d watched you enter the western tower at dawn and the candlelight hadn’t been extinguished once. He was principally done with Merlin’s tasks for the day, perhaps he could pop his head in? “just for a minute,” he decided.

He exited his chambers (Merlin’s storage closet) and rapped a knuckle on his master’s desk, pulling his attention from some blueprints. Merlin didn’t speak, just gave an expectant look.

Douxie ran a near-trembling hand through his tied black hair before cautiously speaking up. “Master, may I have the rest of the day off?”

“Whatever brought this on? After the way you’ve been acting these past months?”

Douxie averted his gaze, suddenly finding his shoes far more interesting. “I’d… I’d like to see someone today.”

After a beat, the master wizard quickly scribbled something down on a piece of parchment and handed it to the boy.

“Finish these and I’ll consider your time served for the day,” Merlin sighed.

Douxie had been sure he would shut down. He quickly snatched the list and ran to the door, uttering a rushed ‘thank you master’ before it shut behind him. Merlin watched him leave, fondness in his eyes.

The sun was just dipping past the high kingdom walls, turning the town a vibrant orange. Douxie hung the herbs he’d just gathered, heaving a sigh of great relief when the last one was in place. He raced across the west side, eager to visit his… friend? Is that who you were to him? He banished the thought as he came upon the west tower, dark eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Citizens, a lot of them, stood in a line from the tower out down the hallway.

“What’s going on?” he asked a young woman.

“I’m here with my children, the Crowmaster is penning wishlists for Saint Nick. Just a shilling each!”

Douxie nodded and thanked her, then made his way to the tower. He gently pushed past the mob gathered in the doorway, stammering apologies. At last, he reached the Crowlord’s desk. The man himself was nowhere to be seen and you were alone, writing away at the whim of an excited child. He caught a glimpse of your face, you looked tired. Had you really been doing this all day?

Exhausted wasn’t a big enough word to describe how you felt. The only thing keeping you going was reading the various forms of concern written on your skin. By now, you knew you’d met them, but you couldn’t place who it could be. However, thinking was only making you more fatigued as your aching wrist swept across the parchment.

Douxie said nothing, just pulled out the Crowlord’s chair, and sat down. You looked at him, eyes wide, but the only explanation offered was a kind smile. He picked up a quill and called out for the next person to step forward. You turned back to the young girl asking for a sword, your smile wide and heart swelling.

By the time you two finished, the sun was half past the horizon. The last patron left the tower and you both heaved a sigh of relief.

“I can’t than-”

“Um, do you think-”

You looked at one another and laughed, waiting for the other to speak. Douxie hesitated, then took a deep breath.

“Uhm, do you think you’ve some time? I’d like to show you something,” he asked, lifting his eyes to your face.

“Sure,” you replied, smiling and holding out your elbow.

He beamed, quickly grabbing two pieces of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell. You raised a brow but let him be as he threaded your arm through his and started walking.

The young wizard’s apprentice couldn’t bring himself to speak, he was far too nervous. Thankfully, you found the silence comfortable as he led you up a winding staircase at the corner of the castle. Once you both reached the top, he gestured to the sea. It was breathtaking. The salty breeze floated through your hair as you admired the sun’s glow over the water and the colors of twilight.

Douxie broke the quiet. “I thought you’d like this. Hmm, it isn’t enough light to write by though.” He waved his hand, sending blue wisps to swirl around you both. You watched them float about, eyes finally landing on Douxie who was making himself comfortable in a crenel, placing the supplies he’d brought with him on the merlon in front of him. You settled across from him, reaching for the quill.

His slender hand caught yours and laid in on the stone, gently massaging your wrist. “You’ll injure yourself at this rate. Let someone else write for you today.” His gaze caught yours, hazel eyes full of concern, and… something else you couldn’t place.

A gentle smile spread across your face as you reveled in the sun on your skin and the breeze on your lips. Douxie shuffled his papers around and spoke up again a moment later.

“So! What’s your wish?” Douxie asked, smiling wide.

“What?” you said, puzzled.

Douxie rose a brow, pointing out “All today, has anyone penned you a wishlist?”

“I suppose not,” you said, the smile settling back onto your face.

He beamed and set the quill to the parchment again. “Fantastic. Not that I think it’s fantastic no one’s offered, I’m just glad I get to- oh, I never even asked. I should have asked first, I’m so sorry-,” His shoulders tensed, but he stopped abruptly when he felt your hand on his.

“Hisirdoux, thank you. I’d love it if you did, there’s no need to worry.”

You started telling him things you wanted for Christmas and conversation flowed from there. Teasing banter and loud laughter filled the sky as it turned to night, blue magic floating around you both excitedly in time with your synchronized heartbeats as he finally walked you to your chambers, even offering you his hood. What could he do? He thought you looked cold.

It was just past noon on Christmas day. The ground sparkled a bright white and children’s laughter rang through the air. You took a deep breath of the crisp air and let it out in a contented sigh, taking a sip of the warm cider your master bought you before he left to celebrate with his family. He invited you to join them, but you opted to celebrate it yourself. You placed the cider on the table next to the window you were sitting in and picked up the small wood block you were fashioning into a present for Douxie. The small wooden cat-dragon only needed his hind leg to be freed from its timber prison. It wasn’t perfect, but it’s the thought that counts. As you worked, sentences curled up your arms and swirling letters kissed the base of your fingers. You paused your whittling with a frown. The only feeling behind this gift was love. You’d accepted you loved Douxie after that night bathed in twilight and lonely smiles, but you felt so incredibly twisted about it. You’d already met your soulmate and they thought about you often. Did your soulmate also worry they’d fallen in love with the wrong person? You shook your head, clearing your mind at the sound of wingbeats. Your hawk familiar landed on your raised knee and began to preen themself, looking at you smugly through pristine feathers.

“I can feel you overthinking things from across the castle,” they spoke, masking concern under teasing.

You scoffed, knowing they were right. “What am I meant to do? I can’t go on like this when I’ve got a soulmate out there. I can’t even try, it’s against the law! They know we’re bonded, what if they see me with him? I don’t want to hurt them like that. Not to mention, what if he’s not perfect for me? I want the soulbond to experience all of another person, but should I give that up for love?”

Your familiar shook their head and flew away, leaving you with your question hanging in the air. Watching them leave, you noticed someone walking towards the slorr’s stable. The manbun was too recognizable for there to be a shred of doubt: Douxie was being put to work on Christmas Day. You turned the wooden Archie in your hand and pushed off the windowsill. Just because you love him doesn’t mean you can’t stay friends.

Douxie was in flux. Archie saw the boy’s neutral expression turn sour as he read what he could of his soulmate’s thoughts. They loved someone else? Would they give him up for someone they’d already met? He couldn’t exactly criticize, he was in the same boat. Y/N was so important to him, but if he found his soulmate, could he quell the confusing little thing they had together for someone he barely knew? He decided he’d understand if his soulmate didn’t love him, he’d want them to do the same. He loved Y/N too much to let them go.

He looked up from his arm and startled. You were waiting for him, leaning against the slorr’s gate, your hawk familiar preening themself. While you laughed at his absentmindedness, he frantically rolled his ¾ sleeves down over the words that betrayed his true heart.

“Y-Y/N! W-what are you doing here? Aren’t you- um, aren’t you meant to be celebrating?” Douxie stammered out as his heart rate slowed.

You pushed off the gate and grabbed the pail he was holding in his hands that were still light with adrenaline. “I am! I opted not to celebrate with Master Corbin and his family, take the day for myself and see where it leads,” you said, a hopeful grin rising to your lips.

Douxie broke into a giddy smile, his heart afloat. They had all of Christmas to enjoy the town and they were here with him? He couldn’t believe his fortune. “Then I’m glad it led you here!” he exclaimed.

Archie curled himself around your leg, butting his dark head into your calf. “Are you here to enjoy the show?” he asked with a purr.

Your laugh was the only thing keeping Douxie from strangling his bespectacled familiar, so he settled for a pout you internally cooed at.

Both of you paused in front of the gate, reluctant to enter. He swung it open with a bow. “Ladies first.”

“Cheeky,” you said to him over your shoulder.

Archie and your familiar started playing with one another as you two prepared to take on the slorr together.

Hm. This was a mess. The slorr seemed to enjoy the happy atmosphere you’d both created so she was a tad more cooperative, but it took longer for her to calm down. You and Douxie were covered head to toe in the glowing blue liquid, trying to remove what you could into the pail Merlin gave him. Your shared laughter slowed to silence as you noticed him staring at you, eyes slowly roving over your face. Did he look… sad? No, that wasn’t it. Before you could scrutinize him further, you felt it. Gentle fingers caressing your cheek, going up, up… Your breath hitched as he laid his palm to your cheek, thumb slowly moving across your face. You let out a shaky breath and he jolted, noticing your wide eyes fixed on his and quickly withdrawing his hand.

He shook some juice from his hand and gesticulated wildly, stammering through an apology. “You- you had some juice on your cheek, I’m so sorry, Merlin’s tower, I shouldn’t have done that-”

“It’s okay, really. Thanks for getting it for me,” you interrupted. You wanted to say more, but his sleeve had risen in his fervor, swirling lines reminding you he wasn’t yours to comfort. Hisirdoux was such an emotional and empathetic being, he wouldn’t leave his soulmate. Especially since his soulmate would have to be an absolute saint, it’s no less than he deserved. Taking a deep breath in, you looked back at him. “Don’t bite your lips, you’ll chap them. Was that your last task for the day?”

Douxie released his lip, fighting the urge to continue chewing it. “It was, and I’ve no clue how I’m going to use the rest of the afternoon,” he said, watching as his familiar and yours playfully wrestled for a mouse.

Your heart leaped, this was your chance! “How would you like to spend it together? There are tons of things to do in town and I’ve saved up my pay for a while so I’ve some wiggle room. Not to mention, I’ve made you something.”

The nervous cloud around you both dissolved as Douxie eagerly agreed and begged you to reveal what you had for him. You denied him with a laugh, smile widening with his every impatient groan. Your familiars ran ahead of you both, swirling in a frenzy of playful fighting and laughter as you walked out of the castle, arm-in-arm.

The town was a sight to behold. Holly curled around door frames, red berries nestled among twisted wreaths. Mistletoe hung from building corners, tracks disrupted the perfect layers of fresh snow, and children weaved and ducked through throngs of people gathered around street musicians. Snowballs were flying at the end of every street, laughter and song floating in the air with the excited chatter of families buying wares for their families, and lines of crushed berries stained the ground. It was an English tradition to wish to meet your soulmate sooner by spreading holly berries in a line on Christmas as a nod to the Chinese legends of the soulstring, a red string that connected soulmates there. Sure, it made a mess of your shoes but you always found it cute.

The first few minutes were unsure, both of you fishing for ideas on what to do first. Archie and your familiar were already deep in conversation, but you and Douxie were struggling. That is, until, the smell of sweet buns reached him. His stomach let out a mighty grumble, a testament to how he’d been working for longer than you and likely hadn’t eaten lunch yet. He covered his pale face with his free hand, too embarrassed to bear seeing you fight a rising smile. You slid your hand down his forearm and grasped his cold fingers, pulling him towards the source of the heavenly aroma. A fiery blush rose to his ears when he registered your fingers lacing with his while you waited in line. Reaching the front, Douxie’s protests fell on deaf ears as you swatted his hands away, insisting you’d pay. The baker gave a soft smile and handed you two of the high coveted baked goods, bidding you both a happy Christmas. Just two apprentices walking hand in hand, browsing stalls, eating together, and enjoying one another's company.

Douxie heard something on the wind and perked up. Lively music came from the town square and Douxie wasn’t about to miss the chance to dance with you. He pulled you from the daggers you were eyeing, making a note of which you lingered on before pulling you close and weaving through the other partygoers. Soon enough, you made it to the musicians, seeing the space before them where a group was dispersing as the song ended. The vocalist started up again, solo for a few lines until the band swelled. Douxie bounced on his heels, recognizing the tune as The Bear and the Maiden Fair. His excitement sent a wave of courage through him and he slipped his fingers from yours, instead grabbing you by the wrist to drag you to the open space. Others joined, forming a circle. Claps and stomps interrupted the smooth movement of the ring. Laughter mixed with the joyful notes of the flute. Hisirdoux couldn’t stop looking at your joined hands, sometimes lifting his gaze to your eyes closed in a laugh. When the vocalist reached the line “lifted her high into the air”, Douxie broke his hand away from the person opposite you, lifted you by the waist, and spun. Your clothes fluttered and for a moment, you were weightless. Douxie’s laughter rang in your ears, lingering just like the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours. His hands were warm and firm on your midsection, the heat replaced with a chill as he set you down. You absently continued the dance, happiness clouding the passage of time. Douxie kept your hand in his, allowing your arms to fall to your sides. You looked at each other, breathless smiles lingering on your faces as the song changed once more. You both walked on, catching your breath and coming down from the high.

A few hours later, you’d both had more interaction with each other than you’d had with anyone else all year. It was a welcome break from the same hallways, the same people, and the same routines. You’d bought each other dinner, talked about everything under the sun, and danced through seemingly all of Camelot, only separating for maybe an hour to buy gifts that may or may not have been for one another.

The day was coming to a close, the sun once again a deep vermillion, the snow reflecting it like gems. As you were heading back to the castle, you passed a holly berry stall. Douxie saw you looking at it, sobered by the reminder you were both promised to complete strangers. Just today, he’d fallen so much more in love with you than he thought possible, and if you wanted your soulmate, who was he to deny you? He tugged on your arm, wordlessly offering a pound to the vendor. The woman raised a brow at your intertwined fingers but offered the small basket of berries without a question. You looked at him quizzically when he drew his hand from yours, pouring a good amount into his hand and giving you the remainder. Enjoying the bittersweet silence, you two took turns placing the berries in a line. Archie swatted your familiar’s eager beak from the line of red that was stark against the slow-melting snow. Once you’d finished, Douxie sent you a sad smile and asked if you’d like to exchange gifts in his chambers. You agreed, once again arm-in-arm, streets quiet except for the soft crunching of snow beneath your heavy feet and the pound of heavy hearts.

Hisirdoux lit all his candles as the sun peeked just over the horizon. Archie made himself comfortable on his wizard’s pillow, curling around a tired hawk familiar. Your own wizard associate preened themselves while you and Doux sat on the bed, eventually opting to preen Archie when they were satisfied. Archie let out a yelp when she preened the edge of his ear, earning a look from you. Douxie pulled out a handful of items from his satchel with a flourish and showed you all the things he’d found one by one. Polish for Lancelot’s sword, a garlic braid for one of Galahad’s more ambitious brews, cooked salmon for Archie, and other things spread out in front of him.

He gave a nervous smile. “Close your eyes,” he breathed.

You smiled as your eyes slid shut. His slim, cold fingers touched your hand, causing goosebumps to rise on your arm as he pressed something small into your palm.

“And… open!” He slid his hands from yours and into his lap, an expectant look on his long face. Looking down, you gasped. There laid a ring that looked to be made of vines, weaving around each other and wrapping around the base of a tiny white flower.

“I found a curltrap in the forest on my last herb run and thought you might like it, so I made it into a ring. It won’t wilt. Um… do you? Like it, I mean,” he asked, brows pinching.

You slipped it on and looked at him in awe. Leaning forward, you softly put your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. “Douxie, it’s beautiful. No one’s ever given me such a thoughtful gift, thank you for making it.” He laid his hands on your back and laid his face in the crook of your neck to return the gesture, hand trailing after when you pulled away.

“Your turn!” You reached into your bag and paused. “Close your eyes.”

Douxie pouted but held his hand out after doing as he was told. He felt something hard and contoured, slowly curling his long fingers around it. He opened his eyes and stared at it in awe. It was wood whittled in Archie’s likeness, complete with small green gems for eyes and tiny glasses frames made of wire. His wings were unfurled, his posture inquisitive. Archie looked at it, speechless.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I played it safe. When I told the carpenter it was for you he offered to inlay the gems for free. You’re more appreciated than you think!” you exclaimed with a smile. He whispered a “thank you” as he turned it over in his hands, admiring the details. In all honesty, he’d already committed every dip and groove to memory, he was just replaying your words in his mind. “You’re more appreciated than you think!” He never thought about the impact he had on others, he was too busy being concerned with Merlin’s opinion of him. That’d be something he’d have to work on if it made you smile like that.

The rest of the evening flew by, laughter and the sound of a lute seeping through Douxie’s chamber door and into Merlin’s study. By now you’d fallen asleep on his bed having drifted off while Douxie softly sang a folk lullaby you’d requested. He lifted the blanket over you and laid down, the blanket layered between you two. He stared at you while you slept, soaking you in. The shadows your eyelashes cast on your cheeks. Your chest rising and falling in tandem with his. The black lines swirling to your collarbone- wait. Douxie watched as a thought appeared on your skin, hidden under your shirt. Archie moved in circles at the foot of the bed and stopped abruptly feeling Douxie’s sudden fear. He was so tempted to look but he couldn’t risk you hating him… it’s just to see what they think of you. To see if they deserve you. Yeah, that was a viable excuse. Archie hissed quietly at his friend, watching Douxie’s trembling fingers gingerly expose the skin towards your shoulder. He looked at the two words, puzzled. “They’re breathtaking.” Did they see you in the square? Had it been when you’d separated? Douxie was torn from his own thoughts when you made a noise, your brow furrowing for a moment and relaxing. His hand still had your collarbone exposed, and he watched in equal parts elation and horror as his own thought scrawled itself onto your skin.

“I don’t know if I can let you go.”

His blood ran cold, breath hitching and mind flailing.

You were his. You were fated to be his. But you loved someone else.

Spring had returned to Camelot, plants thriving in the sun’s warmth. The flowers were happy, fluttering in the sea breeze. You furrowed your brow when your heart clenched at the thought of such beautiful blossoms mocking you. A shadow passed over your face as you looked to the flower that still curled itself around your finger. It’d been three months since the best Christmas you’d ever had, but the memory was now stained. Douxie and you still talked, but for some reason, he made excuses to avoid you and felt distant when you were able to cajole him into a short walk. At first, it seemed like he was busy with the amulet, but then he was absent even when Merlin said he was stuck and didn’t require his apprentice’s help. You were disappointed and confused, feeling hurt every time he blew you off with some excuse of running errands for Merlin.

Hisirdoux wasn’t feeling any better. He missed you greatly and seeing what you thought of his excuses only deepened his guilt. But wasn’t this what you wanted? Why would you be so disappointed he wouldn’t spend as much time with you if you loved someone else? He chalked it up to the soulmate bond, ignoring Archie’s concern and attempts at advice. His eyes were sunken in and puffy, due in part to crying himself to sleep watching your pain at his sudden distance write itself on his skin. He’d go to bed with swirling lines of magical ink torturing his dreams and awake a blank slate, ready for it to start all over again.

Archie couldn’t take this. For the past week, he’d been pushing his magic through their psychic bond, pouring parts of a sleep spell into his charge, but that would only work for so long. Douxie was destroying himself from the inside out, all because he couldn’t be selfish for once and speak up. The shifter waited for Douxie to leave for the day, telling him he’d find him at noon. Archie stayed in front of the door until the young man’s voice faded. He sighed, whispering an apology. Douxie wouldn’t want anyone to know, but the boy needed an intervention.

“Merlin? We need to talk.”

Merlin had noticed Douxie’s exhaustion and had purposefully lightened his load, but the boy kept working regardless. Merlin thought less work could allow him to spend more time with the Crowmaster (who at this point couldn’t be anyone BUT Douxie’s soulmate considering how quickly they bonded and how much time they spent together), but he’d come back to his study to see the books sorted a different way every week, the suits of armor impossibly polished, and the herb rack overflowing with all kinds of magical flora. As Archie relayed the events of the past few months, Merlin felt his chest constrict tighter and tighter. His heart bled for the boy, growing angry at just how oblivious you both were. And then, an idea. Not one of his best or subtlest, but it’d get the job done fast and serve as a bit of punishment for confusing his apprentice’s heart.

It was that time of year again. The yearly royal summit had you and the Crowlord running circles around one another, both of you rapidly penning and sending letters and the occasional need to coerce the grumpiest crow, Corvus, to carry just one more letter for the day. Between your familiar’s regular several-day flights to Spain, your scurrying around the castle, and the magic you were giving the crows for some extra juice, you were exhausted. Your eyes were sunken, you weren’t sleeping properly, and you missed Douxie. You didn’t know why, but his absence made your heart hurt. Every time you collected letters from Merlin, your throat closed at seeing his apprentice’s chamber door. Catching a glimpse of him through doorways and windows made your mouth dry. Both Master Corbin and Galahad had noticed your change in attitude, asking you to rest and why Douxie wasn’t with you, confused why you were no longer attached by the hip. You were tired. Everything fell by the wayside as you rushed from official to official. The king himself was concerned for you. Well, as concerned as he was willing to be towards a mage.

Finally, there was a lull. You were able to rest for a while but didn’t dare leave the tower, knowing something would pop up eventually. Sitting down for what felt like the first time in weeks, you let everything go. The “mother hen” of the tower crows, Corinth, coaxed it out of you bit by bit until the dam burst. She preened your scalp while you cried, hot tears rolling down your twisted features. The feeling was comforting, helping to ease your upset. Finally, you were able to speak.

“...I love him, Corinth. I don’t know how I hurt him and I don’t know how to fix it, but I love him. He isn’t mine and he never will be, I know it, I do, so why does it still hurt so much?” you whimpered, drawing your knees to your chest.

“Perhaps he’s blind,” she said sagely.

“He can see perfectly well,” you whispered with an insincere chuckle, still not trusting your ability to speak without breaking down again.

Her eyes glinted in the noontime sun. “Stupid, then.”

You laughed, eyes crinkling and forcing tears that were left on your lashes to fall. “Douxie may well be stupid, but he isn’t simple. It’s one of his many charms.” A soft smile lingered on your face, heart lighter than before. “Thank you Corinth, you listen well.”

She shook out her plumage and settled on your knees, cuddling into your bosom. You stroked her gently, the silence pushing in on your curled form.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Poor Hisirdoux was in flux again. He sat on his bed turning the wooden Archie over in his hands. Merlin had left not too long ago and given him the day. Douxie’s hands felt light without a task. Come to think of it, his head felt light too. He couldn’t sleep yet, but he desperately needed a pick-me-up. A sigh escaped him when he realized his basin was nearly empty. He’d wanted something to do so he might as well refill it. Upon picking up the basin he dropped it immediately, water splashing violently across the floor along with the clatter of wood on stone. Archie yowled, shifting into his dragon form. The boy’s eyes were wide in horror as he recalled his reflection in the water. You see, in England, not only are the words of a soulmate tie important, but their placing on the skin holds equal meaning. Douxie had only ever gotten them on his limbs and the base of his skull when he was younger, but ever since he met Y/N, they began showing on his torso and the left side of his chest. But this… this couldn’t mean anything good. Scrawled black lines, no longer smooth and flourished, curled around his throat. They began from seemingly nowhere and writhed downwards in a creeping spiral, the end reaching for his heart.

“Arch!” he cried. “What’s happening? Why are they like this? What do they say? Arch, Arch, please I need to know what’s wrong!” Tears welled in his hazel eyes as he dragged his hands down his throat, futilely trying to smudge the twisted lines.

Archie felt his fear so strongly his back arched on its own accord, but he found his way to Douxie quickly. He scampered to the boy just as he fell to his knees, his mind nothing but questions. Archie shifted, paws pulling Douxie’s frantic hands into his lap as he curled his wings around the boy’s shoulders. He sniffed and shuddered to a halt, shaky breaths drawing in and out as he lifted his head for Archie to read the swirling text.

Archie’s reaction to your thoughts was well hidden. He knew you two loved each other, but this hurt him just as much as it did Douxie. “...I love him, Corinth. I don’t know how I hurt him and I don’t know how to fix it, but I love him. He isn’t mine and he never will be, I know it, I do, so why does it still hurt so much?” The next bit made him breathe a laugh, but he realized that while it wouldn’t be easy to tell Douxie just how much you were both hurt by each other’s assumptions, it was just the proof he needed. Archie tugged the reluctant apprentice out into Merlin’s study.

Hisirdoux approached the mirror, looking back at Archie before he confronted the letters snaking down his collarbone. He twisted this way and that, heart falling to pieces over and over with every word.

He shifted his hood back into place, fluffing the collar to cast the letters in shadow. One look at Archie’s concerned face was all it took. He sank against the wall, gathering Archie into his arms and burying his face into his familiar’s side. Glistening tears wet Archie’s fur as the cat dragon purred loudly to offer comfort.

Hisirdoux’s breathing evened out. “Arch, what have I done? What can I do?” he whispered, clutching the familiar ever closer.

Archie placed a large paw on the boy’s chest, near his heart. “You can go after them. Tell them what you know.”

Douxie nodded after a beat and gathered himself, quickly walking out of Merlin’s tower and towards the western wing of the castle.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

The king and his court mages piled into a carriage in preparation for the trip to the port where they’d depart to Spain for the royal summit. Merlin and Morgana sat next to each other and shared a look when the carriage lurched forward. Of course Merlin enlisted Morgana’s help, she’s a trusted source of chaos. He felt for the Crowlord’s aura in the tower and nodded to her once he confirmed Corbin was away. While Arthur was distracted, they sent their magic out. Tendrils of light bobbed, weaved, and merged to form two fluorescent lime balls. They floated around as if to get their bearings, then flew at the west tower. Nestled just below the ridge leading from the doorway was a sack of Dworkstone, its contents belonging to various trolls imprisoned in the castle dungeons. One ball started to vibrate just before it pushed to the center of the sack, starting the movement needed for a mother of an explosion The other flattened into a shield, curling itself around the sack. And they waited.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

You were still curled on the floor, Corinth in your lap when the crows began to beat their wings against their cages. Corinth was panicked but managed to push what coherent thought she could into your mind.

“The door… danger... hurry…” She struggled, taking off out the window in a flutter of black.

You felt the disturbance, dread rising in the pit of your stomach. Scrambling to your feet, you barely managed to stand before a loud boom shook the tower. The shield swelled, Trollfire stretching the ward into the room. Your frantic hands undid locks and bonds as quickly as they could, ushering the crows to safety through the large window. The ward began to thin, crackles of green sparks coming undone as the fire fought against Merlin’s magic. You barely managed to throw the last crow out the window before the ward burst into a violent, moving wall of green flames.

You were pushed into the far wall, falling and splitting your brow on the cobblestone. All you could hear was ringing as your vision went white, slowly fading back to normal. You were trapped under the desk and a few chairs, too weak to lift them off. The screech of a hawk sounded far off as your hearing faded in and out. Fire blazed all around you, easily spreading along the hay bedding in the open cages. You coughed, smoke already in the air. Wait. It shouldn’t be this low yet, it’s only been a few moments since the explosion. You quickly sobered into a panic when you realized the wood piled on top of you was burning. Great. Now you were scared and disoriented. A perfect mix for getting out of sticky situations. The only thing to do now was wait.

Douxie could swear he felt his soul leave his body. He was on his way to tell you-- well, everything. You were his everything. He felt it before he heard it. The tingle of troll and human magic filled the air before a loud explosion shook the western tower. The western tower? Fuzzbuckets, you were on duty today! Crows flew from the open window, a whole murder blackening the sky for a few moments. They’d dispersed by the time he made it to the tower entrance. There was a small crowd a few paces back, Lancelot and another knight inspecting the swelling ward full of fire. Douxie pushed through the crowd just in time to see Lancelot raising his sword.

“No! Everyone run!” he screamed.

Lance was already going full swing when he heard it, looking back at Douxie in fear. Douxie grabbed the knight and made the best ward he could on short notice before the shield burst. They were all blasted backward, a few serfs’ tunics setting on fire. His dark hair was thoroughly windswept, his entire body frozen in shock on the ground. Lancelot might have been screaming, but Douxie couldn’t hear it. Blood dripped down his pale face, but Douxie couldn’t feel it. He could have been floating, his head was so light. Sure, his ears rang, his hands trembled, his chest heaved, but all he could feel was you. Your confusion, your panic. You were definitely inside. Douxie struggled to his feet and stumbled forward into the tower, ignoring Galahad’s voice yelling for him to stop.

If he wasn’t suffocating before, he sure was now. Douxie brought his hood to his mouth to filter some of the air and began searching for you. It wasn’t a very big room, but between the fire, smoke, and items strewn throughout, it was proving more difficult than he’d hoped.

You let out a groan, the table pushing splinters into your leg.

He whipped his head towards the source of the sound, hoping to catch a glimpse of movement. “Y/N?! Y/N, where are you?” he cried.

Weakly, you spoke through a great cough. “...Douxie? Is that you?”

He hurried to the large pile of wood and began tearing it apart. “It’s me, it’s me, love. Please be alright, please, please, please, you can’t die. You’re not going to die, love.”

Hisirdoux heaved the table off you just as you slumped to the floor. He lifted you by the arms with a mighty roar, dragging you towards the open doorway. Galahad and the knight from earlier ran to catch you both as Douxie slipped into unconsciousness.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Two days. You hadn’t stirred for two days. The sun shone softly through the long linen curtains. Your familiar was perched on the headboard, asleep. Douxie was sat up by your bedside, bandaged hands gingerly holding one of yours while Archie slept on your legs. The boy had gotten burned pulling the debris off of you. He hadn’t left your side, save when the castle nurses forced him to eat, bathe, and sleep. They knew him well, uncoordinated as he was, and it broke their hearts to see him look so tired although the past couple of days were the most rested he’d ever been. He was scared. Everything had gone downhill when he found out you were soulmates and he blamed himself.

“None of this would have happened if I’d just told you. You could have been away from the tower, safe with me. I was too afraid of losing you. All I knew was you loved someone else and I couldn’t let you guilt yourself into abandoning ‘him’ because we’re bonded. I was on my way to tell you, you know. I saw what you were thinking to Corinth and Archie convinced me to go after you. I-” his voice cracked, fresh tears coming to his eyes. “I love you, Y/N. I have long before I knew about the bond. I hurt you. I hurt us both. If only I wasn’t such a coward…” He was weeping now, head hung low and shoulders shaking. “I love you so much, and I still let this happen,” he stammered between quiet sobs. He brought your hand to his forehead, cradling it as if it was the most precious thing in the world. And to him, you were.

He jumped when your hand slowly withdrew from his. His head snapped up, and there you were. Sun shining behind you like a halo, your eyes glinting in a tearful smile. You wiped the tears from his cheek, just like he’d done to you with the unruly slorr all those months ago, and let out a yelp of surprise. Douxie had thrown his arms around you and buried his face into your shoulder.

“Doux! Your hair tickles,” you croaked, bringing your arms around him. He was crying again, just a little. His chest felt light. You were here. You were okay. Archie had woken when you jumped and was padding up to your face, pushing himself against your cheek. You sat up slowly when Douxie released you and patted the space next to you on the cot. He settled and looked up at you, eyes still sad.

“So, uh. How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.” You cupped his face. “Douxie. I didn’t fall in love with a coward. I fell in love with the bravest, most selfless wizard in Camelot. Not to mention his adorable manbun. I love you too, Hisirdoux Casperan. Soul bond or not, I want to spend the rest of eternity with you.”

He brought his hand to yours, feeling the tiny curl trap blossom on the ring he made you. Gently, he took their hand in his, admiring the accessory. “Even after all I did, you kept it on.”

“And I don’t plan on ever taking it off,” you smiled.

He slowly removed the ring, taking hold of your left hand. His eyes were hopeful and a little scared when he looked up at you, fingers pausing. Tears welled up in your eyes.

“Promise?”

“With my whole heart, love.”

You placed your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him into a soft, loving kiss as he slipped the promise ring onto your finger.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Lance had lost his arm in the explosion but was rather excited about his new prosthetic. You two had healed as well, soon going back to work. Every time you passed one another, fingers brushed, kisses were stolen, and smiles were shared. The entire castle ended up hearing about how you two became so close, and soon enough, you were somewhat of a folk tale amongst the townsfolk. Now, every Christmas, soulmates exchange handmade gifts while sharing sweetbuns, now deemed a good omen for true love.

Even now, 900 years later, you’d hide your smiles as Arcadian couples surprised one another with things they’d made while ordering an eclair at Benoit’s. It’d been so long, but it seems some things stay the same, you and Hisirdoux included. Sure, you’d both grown in character, but around you, he was still the same lovesick fool he had been all those years ago. You still had your ring, which he’d embellished a bit on your wedding day. Douxie still thought about you as much as he did then. Today, while you were at your job at HexTech, you smiled adoringly at the words on your wrist.

“Your eyes are such a lovely color. Oh, how far we’ve come from clumsy accidents and runny ink. I love you, darling. More than you can ever know.”

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