Chapter Text
Bruno’s vision returns slowly. He feels like he just woke up from a very long, very bad dream. For a while all he can make out through the thick mist before his eyes is a dim yellow light coming from above. A lamp? He must be indoors then…
Next comes his hearing, emerging back from the neverending ringing buzz in his head. He catches the sound of heavy breathing, which he recognises as his own. His back is pushed against something soft. So he’s in bed? Though what’s strange is that his pillow seems to also have lungs of its own – it makes his head rise and fall steadily, and it’s very warm. In fact, he feels overly warm all around, and it’s the kind of warmth that can only come from another person’s body.
He tries moving his limbs, huffing weakly through his nose, and bumps into something – or rather someone, stirring them.
Then a blurry head pops into his view. It’s got horns and… white hair… violet skin… and it’s looking at him with pupiless yellow eyes.
“Le…o…” he whispers, focusing his sight to catch as many details as he can. And suddenly those horns look awfully stubby, the hue of his skin slightly off, eyes more orange than yellow and even his ears don’t droop like they used to – they’re wrapped in white bandages, keeping them up. Not to mention that he is way too small… in fact… it’s just a kid.
Is this another life…?
“Ah!” the strange boy narrows his eyes at him and exclaims: “He woke!”
As if on command another kid leans their little head in – this one is blue and doesn’t have any horns. Then another, pink one this time, looks at him from upside down. Then the next one. And one more. And they all chant something, speaking one over the other, but Bruno can only make out spare words like: awake, alright, elf or name.
Before he can get too overwhelmed with questions in some foreign speech, he forces himself to sit up and immediately regrets it. His head starts spinning from the sudden movement, but dozens of little hands prevent him from falling over in any direction.
He could thank them, if he wasn’t so damn lost right now.
As it turns out, the bed he was sleeping on is round, slightly reminiscent of a trampoline with a mattress, and it’s not the only one in this room that he found himself in. Said room is also full of little tieflings who have accumulated themselves around him specifically, cuddling up to him as if trying to keep him warm. There isn’t even enough space on this one poor bed so some of them are just sitting on the floor on some cushions.
They’re all remarkably small compared to the tieflings that he knows, but those are clearly children – so it makes sense they’d be smaller than for example Fugo, who’s a teenager. Some of them have little horns protruding from their white-haired heads, some don’t, but they all have those weird bandages around their long ears. And all of their curious little eyes are glued to him.
“Bene t’agatas?” asks the one he mistook for Leone, sitting directly on his lap.
“Chiama su farde!” shouts another, stirring a few of them to run out the door, likely to get someone.
They all seem to be waiting for some sort of response from him, but Bruno is currently trapped in a limbo between dream and reality. His mind almost manages to convince him that he is in some undescribed part of heaven where souls get cradled to eternal sleep by cherubs that just happen to take the form of a bunch of adorable baby tieflings that… stare you down with their big pupiless eyes in anticipation… waving their tails… tilting their little heads…
“Buccellati?” a familiar voice takes him out of that heaven. It belongs to Fugo who suddenly busted through the door, proving that this is, in fact, reality. “Alright, you vermins, your job is done,” he announces, clapping his hands. “Now leave the room. Adults need to talk.”
Well that’s rich coming from him. The kids also don’t seem to buy it at first and start whining loudly. Obviously, they’re just asking to be yelled at.
“Go! You little fiends! Don't make big brother repeat himself!” Fugo slaps his tail on the ground and points at the door where Menini appears too, sticking her head inside. The loud whip-like sound immediately achieves the desired effect and the youngsters all obediently run to the exit threatened by the red boy’s raised tail and gently beckoned by the dwarfess.
“Ajo, tiligheltas,” she laughs, ruffling some of them on the head as they pass by her. It seems that her hands don’t need slings anymore, which is relieving.
Fugo, however, has one of his wings stabilised with a stiff brace holding it open and sticking out awkwardly while the other one is folded. He almost bumps it on one of the round beds as he turns to Bruno, swearing under his breath.
“Hey, you feel alright?” he asks, taking a seat on one of the floor cushions. “You fainted back on the ship. Do you remember anything?”
Does he remember? Since this is actually real life and not an undiscovered afterlife, then the question should be: ‘Does he want to remember?’ He decides to not tackle that topic yet and ask about something more pressing, like:
“Wh–where… are we?” he croaks out, seriously underestimating his capability to speak right now. “There’s… all th-hese kids… Is t-this place…?”
“Yes, we are in a tiefling nursery,” the other answers quickly, taking pity on him. “Long story. Don’t ask,” he adds, seeing the elf’s surprised expression. “We were lucky they took us in since half of us were wounded in some way… Those two old elves didn’t even want to stay for longer than necessary so Mista took them to the closest town and—” he turns around, hearing the door creak open. “Pascale! Andadicche!” he yells at the Leone-look-alike kid sticking his head inside and making him hide behind the frame again, giggling along with his classmates. “Cursed gremlins,” he mutters, though there’s an underlying fondness in his voice. Which is… unusual.
“You can speak Sardo?” Bruno asks, realising their broader location just now.
The boy shrugs, though his face turns a shade darker. “A bit. I know Latin, so I recognise some sounds…” he says shyly and doesn’t elaborate, only plays absentmindedly with his tail. “We are in Golfo Aranci by the way – I mean, technically I should say Capo Figari – Golfo Aranci is on the southern coast of this little peninsula and we landed on the north, but, like, the landbridge is so thin that you can see the ocean on both sides from any hill…” he trails off, probably realising he was speaking too fast. “...So yeah,” he concludes.
Bruno only nods quietly, taking time to note every information in his head. “Is your wing okay?” he asks eventually, just to break the awkward silence.
“It’s fine. The bone will heal itself soon, no worries,” he assures. “It’s just annoying, is all…”
Well, at least there’s some good news. He was about to say something generic about getting well soon when the door suddenly opens again, but this time it’s Narancia who storms in, followed closely by a stranger several times taller than him.
It’s a tiefling, but an adult one this time. He’s got a wide scar going across his forehead, long white hair twisted in two braids and he’s wearing a dirty apron over the naked chest. He’s also lacking any horns and what’s most interesting, his skin is red. Same as Fugo’s. But before Bruno can start making assumptions, his eardrums are assaulted without any warning.
“We heard Bucci woke up!!” the dwarf yells, even though he’s perfectly audible, eyes shining at the sight of him.
“Yes, and he would appreciate some peace, thank you very much!” Fugo answers in his place, covering his own ears and then turns back to him. “Buccellati, this is signora Filippa, she’s the foster mother of this nursery,” he introduces, gesturing at the other tiefling. Then he turns around to do the same for the elf using his limited Sardinian.
The… woman (apparently) extends her hand for him to shake and Bruno does his best to not let his eyes linger on her completely flat chest for too long, since that’d be rude. She’s not wearing any shirt underneath her apron though, so it’s hard to not notice the smooth red skin, only slightly bulging with the movement of her pectoral muscles.
“You feel better?” she asks with a heavy accent, her voice honey sweet. Only from a closer perspective does her age come into light, with her face being full of wrinkles. Here’s when Bruno realises that she might be not only the first elderly tiefling he’s ever met, but also (potentially) the first female one. As such, proper respect is in order.
“Y-yes, I’m all good now, thank you greatly,” he answers quickly, forcing his mind back on track. “I’m only suffering the aftereffects of seasickness so, by all accounts, I should be fine on land, haha.”
Immediately he regrets making his explanation so needlessly complicated when Fugo starts sloppily translating it to her. She smiles at them both in understanding and pats the boy on the head when he gets frustrated in his usual fashion, struggling to find the right words. This momentarily calms him down, which is admirable on its own. Then she says something about ‘helping later’ and leaves the room after giving them a polite nod. The following silence doesn't last for long though.
“Fugo’s a mamma’s boy~” Narancia teases in a singsong voice the moment she’s gone, stirring the other's anger back on.
“Shut your face, idiot!”
Before it can escalate into a fight, Bruno decides to bring their attention to the thing that intrigued him instead. “She has quite an unusual appearance, doesn’t she?” he comments as politely as he can.
“Eh? What do you mean?” Fugo asks in confusion as if he didn’t notice anything strange about her.
“That she’s got no boobs? I noticed too!” the dwarf blurts out, completely unbothered about sounding rude. He just unconsciously voiced the question that the only adult in the room was too shy to ask! And for a good reason, though the other boy scans him with a disapproving purple glare too, like he just read his mind.
He groans loudly and proceeds to spew unfiltered scientific facts in a robotic voice: “No, female tieflings do not possess mammary glands, because although we are a viviparous species, we do not depend on our mother’s milk like mammals do – that is precisely why our nurseries wouldn’t work for most other humanoids. In fact, the only distinction between the sexes in tieflings on the basis of secondary characteristics is the presence or lack of horns, which males use for display, despite them having a very high density of nerve endings, which is why they often wrap them with their hair to prevent—”
“Actually, I meant her skin,” Bruno interrupts him in an attempt to save his face. The embarrassed blush might’ve given him away, but let’s just ignore that. As well as all those other tiefling facts he had no way of knowing, because he only ever saw tiefling women in erotic paintings which were clearly… ‘enhanced’. He can imagine the real-life hostesses and brothel workers trying to appease these ‘enhancements’ as well…
At the mention of that very specific skin colour, Fugo's expression turns from annoyed to somber. “She seems to be an ex-aristocrat… like me,” he says slowly, looking away, but doesn’t let silence take hold for too long. “From what I understand; her family used to financially support this nursery until the pirate activity on this coast increased and they decided it wasn’t worth their money anymore. She’s the only one who still cares about this place.”
The topic of pirates turns the atmosphere heavy. The elf wants to say something, show his admiration for the old woman’s determination, but… all he can think about now is what happened just… however long ago it was…
“I’m surprised they’ve got so many kids here,” Narancia breaks the silence, likely trying to keep the conversation going and avoid… the topic. “I haven’t seen that many tieflings when we went to the port town with Mista…”
The other boy shrugs in response. “Well, a lot of those kids likely come from abandoned ships or have escaped the pirates… so this is more of an orphanage than a nursery— wait! You went to Golfo Aranci too?? You were supposed to stay here! It could’ve been dangerous!”
“I was bored…”
“Ugh,” Fugo slaps himself on the forehead. “Whatever. So if you’re here, it means that Mista is back too. Why didn’t you say so? We need to—”
“I need to talk to him,” Bruno interrupts, getting up immediately after hearing the orc’s name. Or at least he attempts to get up, but only manages to swing his legs over the bed’s round frame before he is stopped by the boys. As well as a sudden wave of migraine rushing through his head.
“No! Wait! You can’t move yet! You’re still coming off of that drug,” the tiefling exclaims. Well, at least the fact that the drug still works is an indication that not much time has passed since… that. There still might be a chance.
“It doesn’t work on land,” he mumbles, massaging his head and leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “I just wanna talk to Mista. Besides, I think some fresh air would do me good.”
That convinces the boys. “Hold on,” Fugo says, turning to the door. “I’ll get you a cane. Wait here!” He runs out, careful to not bump his wing on anything this time and leaves the two of them in an awkward silence.
Bruno slowly opens his eyes and lets his head hang between his knees. He notices that his feet are bare and immediately starts looking around for his shoes, remembering what he had hidden there.
“Don’t worry, I have it,” Narancia’s voice makes him jump despite it being uncharacteristically calm. He turns around just in time to see the dwarf pulling something from his pocket. It’s – wait, does he know? Did he remember that it was part of his collection?
“Narancia, that’s—” he cuts himself off, reaching for it hesitantly.
“It’s that strange thimble I stole from Formaggio a few years ago,” the boy states indifferently, eyes glued to the object. “He was bragging about it at school. He said he got it from a travelling giant merchant – probably the same one he got that size-changing potion from. I was actually meaning to ask you about it, but I thought I lost it with all the rest of my stash…”
Bruno swallows, not only impressed by Narancia’s memory and deduction skills, but also unsettled by his calmness. How long has he known? Did he just now realise that the elf had it this whole time? Did he not notice it on Leone’s tail?
“I don’t care how it ended up in your shoe, Buccellati,” the dwarf smiles and hands the item to him. “Give it to Leone – it looked nice on his tail.”
sh*t, so he did notice… and yet he said nothing this whole time… Gods, why does it make Bruno feel so fond?
“Duh, that’s where it's supposed to be.”
They both turn with surprise to see Fugo standing in the entrance, holding some crutches.
“What??” he exclaims, seeing their shocked expressions and Bruno’s blush. Then he slowly realises the double meaning of his words and also turns a shade darker. “I–I mean– it’s a tailring – you put it on your tail as a decoration–aggh! Whatever! Nara, you were supposed to give him that at a right time!”
“Is now not the right time?” the dwarf asks, crooking his head at the other.
“He just woke up!” Fugo throws the crutches at the closest bed just so his hands are free to gesture. “You don’t need to wave that thing in front of his face and remind him…” he trails off, glancing at the elf for a spare second. Narancia takes advantage of his hesitation and speaks up again.
“And who else is supposed to return it to Leone if not him? Freakin’ Mista?”
“Leone is dead!” the tiefling snaps.
“No, he is not!”
Bruno looks from one to the other for a while until his eyes settle on the tailring he’s holding and he can’t move them anywhere else anymore. Its shape starts getting blurry, like it was about to disappear from his hands, so he focuses his vision on it to try and convince his mind that it’s just as real as himself and the boys who continue to argue next to him.
“You haven’t seen him come out of an explosion without a single scratch! He’s tough enough to survive some stupid overgrown squid!”
“It wasn’t just some stupid squid – it was a kraken! When that thing gets agitated, it destroys whatever stands in its way just to take out its rage! There's a reason even pirates are afraid of it!”
“So it destroyed the ship! So what?! Leone could’ve still swam away—”
“He. Is. Dead!” the tiefling roars. “f*cking accept it already!!”
At this moment something hot drops on Bruno’s hands and he flinches, not even realising when his vision turned completely blurry.
“Fugo,” comes Narancia's uncharacteristically calm voice. “Stop.”
They both quiet down, probably looking at him as if remembering that he was in the room. Did they notice his tears? He hears steps and then feels the bed dip right next to him. Short hands close around him and squeeze him in a reassuring hug.
“I'm sorry…” Fugo’s voice wavers on an apology and, as Bruno looks up at him, he notices his pupiless eyes have also became unusually shiny. So he beckones him to join the hug, at first not expecting him to accept the invitation, but carefully embracing him back when he actually does, mindful of his wing.
‘It’s okay,’ he wants to say, but he can’t force words through his tightly sealed lips. These boys did their absolute best to save him and the last thing he’d want for them is to take the blame for… losing Leone. They could only do so much, they’re just kids.
Good thing they don’t know about my father too… he thinks.
—-----------------
Mista was sitting on a grassy hill, looking at the ocean for a good while now, gathering his thoughts. It’s not like he’s waiting for anything (or anyone), it’s more like he’s stalling for time instead of actually forcing his ass to move and go see a certain someone.
“Guido!”
Well that someone might’ve just beaten him to it. “Bru—” He turns around, but only manages to get a glimpse of the elf’s silhouette limping through the field with the aid of a cane before he gets hit in the head with a ball. He catches it before it can tumble down into the sea and throws it at the group of young tieflings running towards him. “Take that game somewhere else ya brats!” he shouts and observes them bounce the ball with their horns like little goats.
“You okay?” Bruno asks as he catches up to him.
Mista sighs, massaging the growing bump on his head. “And ya?” he redirects the question, gesturing at the crutch in the other’s hand.
He only gets dismissively waved at for his concern. “I’m fine. Fugo made me take these,” the elf admits. Ha! He should be grateful that he happened to wake up in a tiefling settlement where they have everything in all sizes since there are kids of different ages living here. He wouldn’t be so lucky if it was, say, an orc village in the swamps.
“Fugo knows his sh*t,” he tells him, patting his cane lightly. “Nobody ever gave these boys any credit and look what they did – they took to the sky like no one could before!”
“Mista…” Bruno spoils the mood with a serious face and a heavy tone that says; ‘we need to talk and the topic ain’t nice.’
Fine! Whatever, he was preparing himself for that anyway. “I know what yer here for,” he nods in understanding and gestures for the other to join him on the grass. “C’mon. Sit down, sit down.”
The elf leans himself on Mista’s side, accepting the helping hand embracing his shoulders and slowly lowers himself to a sitting position. He looks better, like, hella better than he did lying in bed for hours and mumbling Leone’s name. He’s still awfully pale though (Fugo says the drug will be working for at least twelve more hours), but at least his skin isn’t almost as green as an orc’s anymore.
“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says after settling next to him, voice quiet and head held low.
Mista raises a brow. “For?”
“For dragging you into this mess.”
Ah, of course. “Stop,” he says, rolling his eyes at the other’s unnecessary politeness. “I’ve saved ya from trouble too many times to be bothered by this—”
“That’s just a lie,” he gets interrupted by that stern voice and stared down by a cold blue glare. “You look bothered.”
“Ehhh…” he sighs again and lets go of the elf’s shoulder. Seems like there’s no avoiding the serious talk. “I tried looking for him, ya know—”
“Them,” Bruno corrects.
The orc pauses. It takes him a moment to figure out who he is referring to. “...Yeah him too,” he agrees slowly, swallowing saliva down. Somehow the proof that his friend did find the person he was searching for all these years just to lose him again gives him chills. Like he himself had played first fiddle in ruining his dream. Fortuna is a cruel goddess indeed. “But I couldn’t find anythin’...”
Now is the elf’s turn to raise a doubtful brow at him. “You sailed out into the open sea or just walked around the beach?”
Mista scoffs. “And do ya see our ship anywhere around?!” he exclaims, throwing hands, still frustrated over the previous day’s events.
“No,” the other shakes his head after thoroughly eyeing the shoreline from side to side. “What happened to it?”
“Melone,” he responds simply, accepting defeat. “He must’ve had some other trick up his sleeve. Leaving him alone on the ship was a bad idea... I looked away for just a short moment and it was gone.”
“Then you have no proof,” the elf concludes and, oh Gods, there’s hope in his voice.
Mista lets his head hang. “Listen Bruno,” he starts carefully, looking for the right words. “If they weren't eaten by that thing, the waves would’ve thrown them somewhere in this area,” he gestures widely from the beach to the field where the youngsters play with the ball. “If they survived they will find us here eventually. We can’t leave yet anyway.”
“We can go find a ride in the town—”
“I already sent a letter to Tiziano. He’ll be here in a week tops,” he interrupts, not letting that elf get his restless hopes up. That’s unfortunately the most he can do for him now. “Until that time you’ve gotta heal, got it? And I’ll be regularly checking the coast. We’ll see.”
Bruno looks down, obviously not very pleased with the situation, but thankfully he isn’t complaining and coming up with any more crazy ideas. His next question is laced with actual concerns for his own safety (for once).
“Isn’t it dangerous to stay here? I mean, this is technically their territory,” he stretches the word as if not wanting to phrase it plainly out of fear of... what? Someone eavesdropping? Maybe he still didn’t fully wake up. “They might come for us and attack this place.” sh*t, and what if he developed some kind of paranoia from his traumatic experience?
“Nah,” Mista waves a dismissive hand just to put him more at ease. “Ya seen that lady?” He points with his head at the nursery building, indicating its owner. “She helped us the moment we mentioned the pirates, said we’ll be safe with her.” Not that the sight of yet another tiefling with a menacing facial scar didn't make half of them distrustful, but she turned out to be the sweetest tiefling he ever met. The ones he knows are assholes - lovable assholes sure, but still assholes. “There must be a reason they stay away from this nursery.” Might have something to do with her aristocratic roots, at least according to Fugo.
The other is quiet so he takes it as a win. They sit in silence for long minutes, listening to the waves and children’s yelling from the field, but it quickly becomes overwhelming. At least for Mista. There’s one question that has been plaguing his mind...
“Hey Bruno,” he asks, gathering his courage, “tell me... have ya told yer dad anything about me?”
To his dismay, the elf slowly nods. “Yes, I said that I could entrust my life to you.”
Wow, that’s quite an image to live up to.
“And he believed it?”
Bruno turns to look him in the eye for the first time in a while. His face is almost offended. “Why are you doubting that?” he asks incredulously. “Of course he did. He has a grudge on your father, not your entire family.”
Yeah, no matter how many times he reminds him of that, Mista still doesn’t buy it. “I dunno man... If someone did something so terrible to me, I’d be hating not just him but his entire kind,” he admits shamelessly.
The other is silent. Which is a bit unsettling considering that he usually chastises him for saying something like this. “...Dad isn’t like that…” he says eventually, quiet and unsure.
Yeah. That doesn’t bode well. “I hope he’s just like ya. Everlovin’ and forgivin’ hehe,” he chuckles sarcastically.
“Yeah... He is…” The elf seems to be far away in his thoughts and, well, in that case Mista should leave him to it and just focus on guarding the body he left here, like he always did. He owes that to Leone.
He’ll protect him in his absence and, in the meanwhile, try to figure out how to make a good impression on that old elf. After all, Bruno says that he’s just like him - is, not was.
—-----------------
They say tieflings are monsters from hell, but that's just an unfortunate overstatement. In reality most of them come from poor backgrounds and only become monsters as a result. It’s certainly easy to see how one could fall into a trap of pitying them, however that is guaranteed to end badly. Sacrificing one’s empathy in order to keep oneself from trouble is a cruel but safer way to coexist with them. And fear plays a role in keeping one safe. It’s a natural order of things.
It’s that exact natural fear that has been keeping Paolo frozen in position for a better part of an hour now, with his eyes locked on the beached body of the purple tiefling who supposedly brought him here from the clutches of the deep ocean. This, if anything only makes him more nervous – after all being saved by a giant means he’s now at a giant’s mercy. Especially since he still has chains around his hands and legs, which made swimming all but impossible for him.
Only by some miracle did he manage to escape the man’s hold and put enough distance between them to feel safe. Since his back hit the stoney wall of the shallow cave they landed before he hasn’t found the courage to move. The damp, cold rock behind him already started absorbing the warmth from his body by now.
Though what might give him the upper hand is that his rescuer doesn’t look too good himself. He’s bleeding an awful lot into the sand he’s laying on, and the salty waves flooding him surely aren’t soothing his pain. After many failed attempts at getting up, he seems to have resigned, his body not even shivering anymore. Paolo could’ve already written him off as dead... but he learned to be careful with such definitive conclusions.
Taking a deep breath through his nose, he forces his stiff limbs to move, slowly as to not rattle the chains, lightly to not even cause the sand shift—
“Nnn-!” the fiend stirrs momentarily, making an urgent noise in his chest. Paolo immediately stops in his tracks and observes as the man attempts to move again, his muscles contracting and claws digging in the sand. “Wa-it!”he huffs with a lot of effort. “Sto-p…”
He’s been doing that every time the elf made even the slightest motion, trying to stop him for some nondescript reason. He considered just ignoring him and making a run for his life, to the extent his chains will allow at least, but he can’t be sure the tiefling isn’t about to lash out at him the moment he comes close—
“Don..t go…” said tiefling keeps mumbling. One of his hands stretches on the sand, leaving deep claw marks, trying weakly to reach for him. “I... Let me... take... cha-ins...off... Ple-ase....”
That’s the most he managed to choke out through the constant bloody cough so far. It makes the elf freeze again, but this time it’s from disbelief rather than fear. The latter all but evaporates once brain fully registers the comical notion that this heavily wounded giant has been using his dying strength for restless attempts to offer more of his help. At this point he is clueless on what this man's goal even is. Either he has no self-preservation left or he’s trying to win him over. If he is as loyal as he makes himself out to be, then saving his boss’ father would be in his best interest.
His brows furrow as he sizes his pitiful saviour up and decides to try again.
“Pl…ease…”
He takes a few steps, only resulting in a few broken syllables, some more failed attempts at movement, and concludes that the tiefling is currently perfectly harmless. One can only wonder for how long... In this state he’s more likely to pass out before he could do anything.
Paolo makes brief eye contact with the fiend before leaving to explore the beach, subtly letting him know that he will come back. Normally he wouldn’t bother, but he knows Bruno has a soft spot for this man and he’d be heartbroken if he didn’t make it. Eh, the things one does for an only son...
After taking a look around the coast, confirming that they’re alone here, he picks up two sticks and heads towards the rocky shore. He shuffles his bare feet in the shallow water, stirring puffs of sand and disturbing the quiet slumber of small creatures hiding within it. Using the sticks he manages to catch his first crab, stuns it against a rock and then stabs it through the head with the arrow from his necklace. It’s just thin enough, making it perfect for the job, although Bruno probably had some different use in mind when he gave it to him.
He looks over the tool, its blade smudged with crab brains. Just what kind of purpose was it supposed to serve? Why does he have a feeling that it’s not just a sentimental memento. He pulls his shirt’s hem, throws his catch into the makeshift pocket and goes back to the hunt, letting his thoughts wander.
He knows he can’t condemn his son for growing attached to someone he doesn’t approve of. Bruno is all grown up now – perhaps his old mind still hasn’t fully accepted that reality since the last time he saw him was back when he was still a child. That image was what the only thing he could hold onto for all these long years, never expecting that he’d live to see how he matured. And as any parent, he just wants him to be happy, but adults aren’t immune to being blinded by feelings. Now the most he can do is keep his eyes open for him.
When he has enough crabs to make a decent four-course meal, he turns back to gather more sticks. Carrying such a copious catch isn’t very helpful, but he isn’t sure if even that much will be enough for the two of them. However, one thing he knows is that after losing so much blood, the giant needs some iron if he ever wants to actually break him out of his chains. His stubbornness might just be the only trait he finds somewhat admirable.
As he returns, the seagull’s loud cries reach him before he even sees the beached body being swarmed by the birds. There’s no reaction from the tiefling, no attempt at driving them away, no nothing…
Paolo leaves his catch hidden in the sand under some heavy rocks, so that the feathered scavengers won’t get to it too easily, and he approaches the scene, scaring them off with a long stick. Leaning on it, he looks down at the man’s face twisted in permanent expression of pain, eyes squeezed shut, bloodied teeth poking out. And yet he looks limp and pale, like there's no life left in him, the opportunistic gulls seemingly sensing it. Panicking, he crouches down in front of him and tries to observe any semblance of breathing. It’s there, but it’s quite unsteady and barely noticeable. He can’t leave him like this, so, still afraid of getting too close, he taps his shoulder with the stick instead.
The fiend flinches at the unexpected disturbance, spurring a similar reaction from the elf as well. The shock accompanied by sudden movement causes a violent coughing fit, blood that clogged his airway now spurting from his nose as he tries desperately to catch his breath. Thankfully he manages to raise his chest from the ground by leaning on his elbows and he lets his head hang so that all the fluids can drip down to the sand, though the position is most likely instinctual, if anything. Once the coughing lets up, however, all strength leaves him again and he drops back to the ground with his head tilted sideways to slowly drown him in his own blood that keeps steadily streaming from his nose and mouth.
As Paolo watches him struggle and meets eyes with the red rimmed yellows of the helpless tiefling, silently begging him to make it all stop, something shifts in his mind. Suddenly he doesn’t see a dead-end fiend using his pitiful status to gain compassion anymore – instead he sees a genuinely lost young individual who is hurting and terrified, seeking salvation from the closest human soul. And yet even in desperation, he doesn’t dare break the set boundary, his stare remains distant, merely asking, not demanding.
“Get up, boy. Get up,” the elf says, managing to keep his voice steady in spite of his heart hammering wildly in his chest. “Don’t let sleep take you.”
The pupiless shiny eyes widen at him, but he doesn’t lean in to help. After all, there isn’t much he can do for him other than verbal encouragement. The giant also can’t respond any other way than actually attempting to sit up, as speaking would only worsen his state. So he tries, almost raising himself to his elbows a second time, but ultimately only ends up further on his side. That’s still better, Paolo thinks, at least now they could clean the sand from the deep gash on his chest so that it doesn’t scab dirty. But dragging his body away from the waves will take a bit longer.
He turns towards the shallow cave where he left his catch and gets one for the younger man. For now he needs to keep him awake while he starts the fire, then he’ll figure out what to do next. He breaks the crab’s shell open for him and places it in one of his large hands lying palm up on the sand. Noticing its shape, the giant tips his head slightly up with a questioning stare.
“Eat. You need iron. That’s the most I could catch,” is the explanation he gives before turning back to the rocks.
He builds a small stone circle and starts assembling the sticks for the fire. All the while he keeps glancing over at the tiefling to make sure he’s awake and breathing. He doesn’t catch him eating though, instead he finds his hand balled into a fist. Perhaps he’s too weak to chew? Well, once the fire is set, he focuses on actually cooking the crabs, waiting for them to reach a red colour – a sign it’s time to cool them with ocean water to make the meat detach from the shell easier.
Out of nowhere he’s interrupted by a loud avian scream. It turns out that the tiefling caught a seagull. in a surprise attack, using the crab as bait. He has his fist tightened around the bird’s neck.
“Got... it,” he pants heavily from the fatigue of such sudden movement. As he looks up, his half-grin quickly melts into embarrassment. “Ah,” he backtracks in realisation, “I... for-got you elves... don’t... eat meat…”
This surprises Paolo to the point that he can’t help but feel amused. It’s been a while since even he himself could afford to be concerned with his people’s culinary customs. “We elves don’t make a fuss about our food in dire situations,” he smirks in response.
And with that the grin is back on the other’s face. It takes him some time, but he eventually pushes himself to a sitting position at last. His worst injury is cleaned and bandaged with ripped clothes which are secured by a sturdy sailor knot, aided by the old man’s instructions. Then he crawls over to the fire and joins their modest feast, not wasting energy on too many unnecessary words that’d only tire him out more. Which is very wise of him.
Somehow the elf begins to grow fond of him. He actually has quite a few traits to admire. Despite all the pain, he does his best to make himself useful, watches out to not break established boundaries and doesn’t cry for attention even when he’s in great discomfort. Perhaps his son found an authentic diamond in the rough...
He thinks he can finally understand what makes this boy different from all the other hell-spawns that end up committing crimes. There’s an innocence to him, one that he still hasn’t lost.
The night that follows is hardly a peaceful time, with the tiefling going through a high fever and continuously moving around. He slept soundly for the most part, but then started shivering and slowly shifting his body dangerously close to the fire, seeking warmth. Although tieflings apparently handle heat better than other races, it’s becoming concerning in this situation…
Paolo, who had taken the watch, eventually has to intervene when he sees him reaching right into the flames.
“Stop! You’ll burn yourself,” he says loud enough to wake him and smacks his hand away with his trusty stick.
“…no…” the other mumbles in response, barely conscious.
The elf sighs. “Boy, no matter how much heat you can tolerate, if you come too close you’ll end up like this gull,” he points at the remains of the bird they’ve eaten a few hours ago. The gesture is pretty much pointless though, because despite the giant’s eyes being open, he doesn’t appear to see anything but the fire in front of him.
“Bru…no… I’m sorry…”
That was… unexpected to hear. The longing call directed at the flames sounded more like a conscious farewell than a delirium. He’s talking as if he was leaving behind some unresolved regrets. Surely he’s not planning on passing away anytime soon.
“You’re not parting from him, don’t worry,” he assures the younger man, feeling that he owes him at least this much for all he has done for them.
The tiefling surprises him again when he suddenly turns his face away from the fire and directs his stare at him, chin propped on a flat rock. His wide eyes say that he straight up doesn’t believe him.
“I don’t… know that…” he says quietly.
Paolo has to raise a brow at his reaction. “Why?” He still isn’t sure if the other is blabbing or he’s genuinely uncertain about his future.
“He won’t… need me anymore… since we’ve found you…”
Ah, that’s his concern. Life always shifts after achieving a goal. Though he doubts Bruno will stop travelling now – he’s always been interested in exploring. As a kid he was convinced he could sail around the world on a shipping boat. He definitely won’t give up adventuring, but he could use a short break, it’s almost winter after all.
Instead of listing off all the reasons he thinks his son actually should keep a bodyguard for, the elf decides to call back to the vow he witnessed back behind the bars. Not out of any malice, he’s just curious how deep that loyalty of his runs. And he already knows that the tiefling is honest in this state. “You said you'd gladly give your life for him.”
Hearing his own words from the other’s mouth, the giant’s eyes shine brighter with additional wetness. “My life… I wouldn’t know what to do with it… without Bruno…” he confesses quietly. “I’d be happiest... if I died protecting him…”
So there is something deeper hidden underneath his loyalty… Perhaps even the corresponding flame to Bruno’s own burning feelings, suppressed by some kind of internal shame. Oh, the struggles of young life. It’s unbelievable how easy they are to decode once you’ve lived long enough to experience at least one kind of love. Forbidden, faded, unreciprocated... those kinds he’s familiar with.
He always wished for his son to get to know more than just those.
“Bruno would be happiest if he didn’t have to mourn you,” he states simply.
That seems to stun the tiefling, leaving him at a loss for words, realisation making him rethink his vow. His lashes dip and he appears to be looking down.
“I upset him…” he says after a moment of silence. “I thought I was... only a novelty to him…” This admission feels disconnected from the conversation, but Paolo doesn’t interrupt him, recognising the deeper context that he’s most likely referring to. “I said no… too early…” Ah, there it is. The thing Bruno mentioned as briefly as he could, but his pain was still visible. “And now I can’t go back on my words.”
“Why can’t you?”
It’s a simple question, and yet the younger man apparently can’t find the answer to it. His eyes go wide, yellow narrowing to a slit as he stares at the elf. His expression changes gradually as he’s processing the simple facts that he’d somehow convinced himself were unattainable. Eventually he ends up left with nothing but embarrassment, so he turns his head away, looking back at the fire.
Paolo also turns to look somewhere else, letting him breathe for now. He looks at the sky and takes a moment to admire the stars that he hasn’t seen in a long while. Even when the pirates transported him to the land, they always made sure to blindfold him so that he wouldn’t know the location of their base. He only glimpsed the sky in rare instances during the earlier days, such as the many failed escape attempts from places he doesn’t want to remember... He forgot how bright it was. It’ll take him some time before he’ll be able to fall asleep underneath its glow again.
“Signor Buccellati…”
He almost gets startled by the other’s quiet voice. When was the last instance anyone referred to him like this? He’s once again taken aback by the tiefling’s good manners. He certainly misjudged him.
He turns to see him still stubbornly staring at the flames. It might just be the warm light casted from it, but his face is a lot less pale now. His hanging ears are almost red on the tips. “Hmm?”
The giant swallows, evidently nervous. “Can I spend the winter in Sicily?” he asks shyly.
Surely it’s only out of formal respect that he decided this even needed to be a question. It’s clear that he has nowhere to go and it’d be a shame if he ended up in the underworld like his brother. There’s enough misguided tieflings there.
In response, the elf simply shrugs. “If Bruno agrees, then I’ll also have to.”
The other makes no sudden moves and yet his body visibly slumps, all tension leaving him. He was waiting to hear his answer on bated breath, the poor thing. “Thank you,” he sighs out in relief and settles back on the rock, letting his lids fall shut.
What a charming boy, Paolo thinks, and he has to look at the sky again because he finds himself smiling involuntarily.
“You’re welcome, Leone.”
—-----------------
The morning was comparatively calmer, but certainly not quieter thanks to the presence of seagulls pecking relentlessly at the remains of their cooked brethren.
By the time Leone woke up, the elf was in the middle of an attempt at shaving his beard with the tiny arrow blade he was given. An attempt doomed to fail, but he could only work with what he had.
“Ahh. The fire died…” is the giant’s first observation after regaining consciousness. Judging by his steady voice, he must be feeling better today.
“I hope you weren’t planning on staying here a second night,” Paolo mumbles sarcastically, holding his mouth turned in an awkward angle, still consumed by his task. “We can’t sit here forever.”
“R-right,” the younger’s voice twists into a painful hiss as he gets up. “The pirates have their base somewhere around here, don’t they?”
The elf turns around to look at him with a raised brow. “Do they?” Somehow it slipped his mind, but this boy might actually have a better idea where they landed since he’s the one who hauled them here. He didn’t even consider asking him about that before because of the metaphorical wall between them that he only broke down the last night.
Right now, Leone isn’t interested in sharing information, however, as all of his attention lands his shaving tool.
“Ah! You have the arrow!?” he exclaims, crawling up to him on all fours.
Paolo flinches slightly at that sudden reaction, but he’s glad that the other still keeps a respectful distance from him. “Bruno gave it to me. He didn’t explain what it is.”
“It’s like an uh…” the tiefling makes an undescribed gesture which doesn’t help to convey anything he’s trying to say. “I don’t know what to call it, but it can lead us to him.” He groans seeing the confusion on the elf’s face. “Look, it’s a magical contraption, Bruno would definitely explain it better, but he used it to find you so it must also work the other way around.”
Alright, this can definitely come in handy then (more than it already did). “How exactly do I use it?”
“You need to give it a sample of blood.” This single sentence leaves nothing but silence between them. The elf is about to say something, but the other interrupts him before he can. “I know, I know it’s weird, but just try,” he pleads, clasping his hands together.
Although reluctantly, the older man runs the pad of his thumb along the blade’s ridge, cutting himself. His blood barely drips, being sucked up by the arrow that the tiefling instructs him to spin once it starts levitating in his palm. Good thing he didn’t nick himself with it before or he'd have gotten a heart attack.
The tool aligns itself with the shore, blade pointing them to the left.
“Can I check something?” Leone asks politely before reaching to put one finger on the arrow. “It should grow warmer the closer it is to the target.”
The elf nods. “We should follow its lead then,” he decides, standing up from the rock he’s been sitting on. “Can you walk?”
In response the tiefling slowly raises himself to his full height, using his tail as a support and clutching his chest tightly. He’s still visibly in pain, but makes no complaints. “You don’t want me to remove your chains first?” he asks instead.
Paolo looks at his wobbly posture and arms covered in scabbing cuts and scratches. He’d rather not risk any attempts at crushing the metal this close to his limbs with heavy stones while the other still isn't in good shape. “Leave it, boy,” he says, already turning in the direction pointed by the arrow. “Save your energy.”
They walk along the beach, letting the sea wash away their footprints, just in case. The march is silent until the sun climbs onto its noon position and starts bothering them with its heat. Well, one of them, at least.
“You’re sure you don’t want to try getting those off?” the tiefling asks in a nonchalant voice. Annoyed, the older man stops and turns around to give him a warning glare, humbling him immediately. “S-sorry…”
“Don’t be,” he grumbles in response. It’s not the cuffs that slow him down but the hair he couldn’t shave. There’s a good reason why elves don’t generally grow beards, not many even have the genes for that. At least the giant is tall enough to provide him a much needed shade when he’s walking behind him. Although he himself is limping, also dragging their pacing down. “The arrow keeps tilting towards the land…”
It has been doing that for a while, but only slightly, and since they’re more likely to get lost inland, he didn’t mention it till now. The giant’s silence makes him feel like he should’ve said so earlier though. However, before he can correct his mistake, the younger stops in his tracks all of a sudden. Paolo turns to see his face locked in fear on something far ahead of them that only he would have noticed from his height.
“Wait,” he says quietly. “Don’t move…”
The elf does move, if only because there’s a splash before them and it’s coming from rather close. A horned, black and white shape emerges from the water, flashing them with the familiar red glare.
“Nel~lo,” it sings. "Don’t think I’m done with you~”
They should’ve known they still haven’t fully escaped the pirates, especially not on their own territory.
“Run,” Leone says without taking his eyes off of the approaching enemy. “Warn Bruno.” There’s no room for objections in his voice – he is ready to die here.
Trying to argue with him would waste precious their time and Bruno is potentially close so the elf darts across the beach as fast as he can, jumps into the bushes and runs further inland. The last glance over his shoulder shows him the purple tiefling in a battle stance, teeth bared already being rammed at by the other, white one. What follows is a huffed groan and loud splash of water, but the leaves already obscure his view.
Only after getting far enough does Paolo slow down to look at the arrow in his hand. It’s telling him to go northwest, with the emphasis on west. Such drastic change in direction must mean that he’s close. He can’t hear the sounds of the fighting tieflings anymore, but he knows he shouldn’t stop running just yet. It’s very hard with the cuffs hitting and scraping his ankles, on top of that the terrain forces him to go uphill, and yet he pursues ahead. Eventually, the tall bushes give way to shorter highland plants that don’t block the view.
He can’t see the beach, only the blue horizon where sky meets the sea. On it he spots a strip of land detached from the one he's standing on – an island. It’s jutting straight out of the water, its shore being made of extremely steep rocks, no gradual shallows that a big ship could get stuck in. And then it dawns on him - this must be it, the pirate hideout.
They’ve really landed in the worst place they could.
The one saving grace would be the fact that this coast clearly doesn’t belong to an isolated little island. It looks to be a peninsula as there’s a thin landbridge connecting it to the ground that extends as far west as he can see from this elevated spot. There are even houses alongside it! But they are overshadowed by yet another unexpected presence that appears in the distance.
There’s a silhouette of a different giant just mere metres before him, just standing on a lower rock. An orc, by the looks of it.
They notice each other almost at the same time.
“A—!” the stranger exclaims, pointing at him. “No way!” And then he starts rushing uphill towards him, which takes a bit of effort from him. The elf would’ve started running if he didn’t get the feeling that he recalls him from somewhere. That face, familiar from a distant, blurry memory, makes him freeze instead. “Yer Mr Buccellati,” the giant asks cautiously as he approaches, “right?”
Despite not knowing this person, Paolo feels a tight grip of nostalgia holding him firmly in place, like the past just came to confront him without asking if he’s ready for it. So he lets fate take hold. Besides, he thinks anyone who refers to him this respectfully can’t be from the pirate crew. Not the current one at least – there are no orcs left on it anymore.
“And who is asking?”
“M-Mista,” the orc introduces himself, straightening like a soldier. “Guido Mista, sir, um... the– the new one,” his voice quickly dwindles down to an uncertain whisper. He seems almost afraid of him.
Taken aback, the elf can’t help but let his guard down. “You’re Great Guido’s grandson?” He has to clarify, remembering not just Bruno’s words in the ship’s cell, but also the face of his late friend, all too similar to the one before him.
“Granny named me after him,” the other adds, making him remember Griselda too.
“Is… Is she still alive?”
The young orc grins. “Alive and cookin’.”
Good Gods. They even talk in the same manner. He needs to get a hold of himself, can’t let memories blind him right now. He takes a deep breath and steps closer to the new Guido, as he called himself. “You’re with Bruno?” he asks, completely ignoring the arrow that keeps twisting in his tight hold, nudging him in said boy’s direction.
“Yes, he’s in that orphanage-thing over there,” Guido points at a building behind himself separated from the many houses on the opposite coast. “I’ll show you there— oh, wait,” without a warning he reaches for the elf’s chain and breaks them in a single swift move. Startled, the older man jumps a step back before he can crouch down to reach the one binding his legs.
“You should better go help your friend!” he says with raised hands, a little too loudly with hands instinctively raised in defence. “He’s on that beach, fighting a pirate.”
The orc stops. “Leone’s still kickin’ too!? sh*t! I knew it!” he exclaims excited, catching the last remaining chain and crushing it with his bare hands before Paolo can even protest. “I knew he wouldn’t go down like this!” he stands back up and places an unexpected hand on the elf’s shoulder. “Go to that orphanage quickly! Bruno will die of joy when he sees ya!” And with that, he rushes towards the sea, leaving the old man by himself.
By all means he should do as this new version of Guido instructed him... but he can’t. That last line grew before him like a wall and is blocking his way.
Just what will he tell his son when he sees him? He’ll without a doubt ask about the tiefling and what then? Should he lie? If he tells him the truth, he’ll want to go help him too and put himself in harm’s way again and he can’t allow that.
Back in the day, his old friend helped him escape from the home life he’d grown distant towards. Though, he never replaced a home for him. Great Guido was the person who made him realise the importance of his family, no matter how uncomfortable the situation at home might’ve become. Which is why he never would’ve left Sicily, never would’ve joined Guido on any of his long journeys although he always wished to. Because the orc wouldn’t give him a break over the people he left behind.
Staying here is dangerous. So he takes a deep breath and turns back.
—-----------------
Leone’s open wounds sting from the saltiness around him, thanks to the water sloshing all the way up to his thighs. Its colour is slowly beginning to turn red, and yet there’s no end in sight. Restless attacks keep coming one after the other, hooked barbs catching on his skin, ripping his clothes apart.
One would think that Illuso who had just washed up on this shore would also be tired and defenceless, but no, he still has the single most annoying weapon on him – that tail armour. He twists and spins without a break, continuously assaulting his opponent with its biting slashes. Though his pace seems slower than before, the shallow water also slightly restrains his movements. It’s still hard to use it to one's advantage, being as weakened as Leone is currently, but he has to get rid of this nuisance before it becomes a greater problem.
So he forces his muscles to tighten and the next time the barbed tail swings at his legs, he spots the right moment and stomps on it, submerging it completely and causing the albino to fall into the water with a loud splash. He knows he’ll have to deal with barbs sunken deep in his foot later, but that won’t be the end of the world. Tieflings don’t wear shoes not just out of convenience.
However, as he looks down he notices not just the cloud of blood floating to the surface but also parts of metal plating.
“Oh? Did your precious tail protection rust after just one swim?” he can’t help but grin as the other emerges back up, looking like a soaked chicken. “Tell me, how often do you have to replace this junk, huh?” he keeps teasing, unfazed by the forceful tugging on his foot.
“None of your damn business, dickhe*d!” Illuso huffs, finally managing to free his appendage, its armour now missing a few chunks. The motion brings Leone within his range, allowing him to punch him right in the face and send him underwater this time. “I can beat you up with my bare hands if I need to!”
Leone can see the clear rage in his red eyes as he stands back up, spitting out some water, but somehow he can’t take him seriously. It’s crybaby Illuso after all. If he was truly determined to put him down for good, he’d stop talking and just tackled him down, held his head underwater for long enough and he’d be done with him. But he’s a coward, they both know it. Although, the fact that he still chose to fight him instead of simply running away means that he’s grown stronger. Or that he’s just really pissed off.
“Then f*cking do it! I’m right here,” he sneers, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture that’s meant to further aggravate the other. And it works. But he should’ve predicted that this stupid cheater will go right for his horns, managing to grab them easily thanks to his head being lowered in the battle stance. He uses his grip to drag him down towards the knee aimed right at his face. Joke’s on him! Now Leone can easily catch his leg, making him lose balance and fall backwards. He uses his whole body to keep him down, but the other stubbornly doesn’t let go of his horns, keeping both of their heads submerged.
They grapple with each other in the shallow water for an increasingly dangerous length of time, neither wanting to let the other go. Leone pushes his knees into Illuso’s stomach, forcing him to release his breath. In response he gets repeatedly hit on the back with the barbed tail in a desperate attempt at escaping his hold. Fortunately for the albino, he has no intention of actually following through with the easiest killing strategy in these circ*mstances – he just wanted to remind him how it’s supposed to be done, just from the goodness of his heart. So he’s the first one to back off.
They break the surface almost at the same time, neither of them go for any instant attack, both too busy coughing out pinkish water. Illuso seems to have a harder time catching his breath - he’s gulping up air like a starved man, as if convinced that he’d just escaped a certain death. And because his face is awfully similar to the one he made countless times when he got pranked by their classmates, it makes Leone burst out laughing.
“Ha...haha! You look like you just saw a ghost—ugh!” he gets his newly regained breath knocked out of him in the middle of it when the other suddenly rams at his chest.
“You think it’s f*cking funny?!” he roars, driving his horns at him repeatedly. “Motherf*cker! That scared me sh*tless and you dare laugh!? Are you still mentally in Pompeii?! You should’ve died in that eruption along with that old hag and the rest of those bastards!!”
That finally breaks Leone’s nerve. He bites his lip and returns the blow, headbutting the pirate. “You could show them some f*cking respect, you know,” he growls, shaking off the dizziness.
Illuso gets back up surprisingly fast and rams right at his head this time, making black spots fly before his eyes. “And why the hell would I?” he hisses, narrowing his sidelids at his opponent, likely also experiencing the same side effects. “Y’all only made my life worse and you’re gonna tell me I can’t be happy that they’re gone? Give me a break!”
“Your feelings are none of my business—”
“Oh, of course! They never were!”
“—but I’m not gonna let you insult their souls!” Leone concludes coldly, not exactly wanting to commit to deconstructing their shared childhood memories in his mind right now. He knows Illuso was an outcast in their class and he himself might’ve contributed to some of the bullying he experienced, but it’s not like the other was without his own faults.
The albino bares his fangs at him. “Yeah, keep defending your cosy past,” he sneers, twisting his head at a different angle. “But don’t forget that you were only so comfortable because you’re an arrogant snitch!”
“And you’re an ungrateful wastrel!” Leone snaps, pushing back. The water splashes around them as they play the reverse tug of war, their horns grinding unpleasantly against each other, narrowed eyes staring the other down, hands clasped together, pressing harder and harder.
Eventually Illuso sends him a subtle smirk, like he’s about to pull a surprise attack on him and can’t hide his glee over it. “Better be that than a f*cking snitch—” he straightens back and tugs Leone’s head along, which certainly wasn’t his intention. He blinks then tries again with identical outcome. “What the—? Let go!” he starts panicking and thrashing his head around, but this only brings their faces closer as a result.
It appears that their horns got stuck, the spiral ends slotting together like puzzles.
“Stop that!” Leone grunts out, the other’s movement causing him pain. If he keeps shifting their head position like that, then they’re gonna end up irreversibly tangled. It’s especially concerning since something similar already happened once before. “f*cking— Knock it off! Do you never learn?!”
“It’s all your fault!” the other barks. “Let go of me!”
This is getting annoying.”No, you let go! You started it!”
“Go to hell!!” Illuso cries out, seemingly giving up. “You and your damned boss!!”
“Keep Bruno out of it!” Leone snaps without even thinking. “In fact, keep his name out of your dirty mouth, understand me?!”
The other goes quiet from surprise. But then his eyes flare maliciously. “Eh? What’s with the rage? Sounds to me like you have a thing for that elf,” he teases with a sh*t-eating grin.
“Well, maybe I do! So what?!”
“Oh…” his smug expression drops just as quickly as it appeared. “I don’t even pity you anymore,” he states emotionlessly.
Somehow this pisses Leone off even more, face growing hot. He doesn’t know why the mere mention of Bruno got him acting so defensive, but he’s triggered now. “And I never pitied you in the first place!” he growls, wanting to at least switch the topic, but it doesn’t seem like the other is about to drop it that easily.
“We lose our freedom thanks to those pointy-eared bastards and their overly sensitive egos, and you’re willingly letting yourself be their slave?” he shakes his head, pretentiously showing off his disappointment. It’s awfully annoying just how familiar his words are... “Frankly, I’m ashamed to have such a brother!”
“Where the hell did you even get this grudge from? The only elves you ever met were prisoners like you! You’re just repeating what the pirates told you, dumbass!”
“And you’re lying to yourself!” he exclaims, pushing a finger at the other’s bandaged chest. “Elves are the ones who run the world! It’s because of them people like us end up in the gutter. You look at an elf wrong and you’re immediately cuffed! You were in jail so you of all people should know!”
“How do you even know what I got caught for?!” Leone asks sarcastically, doing all he can to not get into that part of his life here. He never thought that the beliefs he himself held at some point could sting so badly when you’re on the other side. It’s all because of Bruno that he changed and he knows he has no power to achieve the same effect. So he just bounces the accusations back at the other. “Better look at yourself – you gave up, wasted half of your life at the sea and now you’re miserable!”
“I’m not miserable!” Illuso snaps in offence. “I grew stronger hunting those f*ckers!” he accentuates the word with aviolent swish of his tail, sending droplets of water in the air. “When you wanna survive behind the bars, you need to find someone to blame for it!”
Oh, Leone could roll his eyes at how edgy that sounded. “If you’re focusing on hating people then no wonder they hate you back,” he smirks, remembering how the other crew members talked about their captain behind his back.
Unsurprisingly, this upsets the albino even more. “Would you stop playing wise already!?!” he yells, then adds in a calmer tone: “You can’t know the satisfaction of taking revenge unless you’ve experienced it.” There’s that overconfident smile on his stupid face again. “C’mon, vent. You must hate someone too.”
The other only furrows his brows and mutters: “I don’t hate anyone.”
“Well I hate elves!” Illuso proclaims, voice dripping with sick pride. “And I hate you too. And you know what?” he presses his forehead into Leone’s to invade his personal space even more than he already does. “If I ever get my hands on that little boss of yours, I’ll make sure he ends up in one of those nasty places where they torture their prisoners before skinning them alive!!”
Unable to take it anymore, Leone rams at the other, causing a painful tug at their entwined horns. “You deserved everything that happened to you!” he roars, completely losing his composure. “And you deserved to be spanked for every little f*ck-up!!”
That last line wasn’t supposed to leave his mouth, but it did and now Illuso got hit in his embarrassing soft spot.
“It was all because you couldn’t keep your stupid mouth shut, you coon!!” he yells right into his ear, back to trying to twist his head free, disregarding the pain that it causes to them both.
“f*ck you! I did it on purpose!!” Leone admits, also not giving a crap anymore.
“f*cking die already!! Get out of my life!”
The excessive tugging makes his head spin, black flakes dancing before his eyes. They’re spinning around, slushing the water with their tails pulling and pulling until something makes an awfully unpleasant cracking noise.
Suddenly they’re back in Pompeii, in the shadow of the nursery’s barn. Leone pulls himself up from the pail of hay he landed on and sees signora Carna rushing to the crying Illuso, who’s got only one horn.
“What have you done, boys?!” she exclaims.
“What have you done, you maniac?!” Illuso laments, lying half-submerged in water and staring with horror at his left horn dangling from his forehead on the last veiny thread along with Leone’s right, still connected at the ends in a purple and white spiral. Then it breaks off and falls into the water. “Ha–aaah!!” the albino wails in pain, holding his head with both hands. “It’s all your fault!”
On automatic, as if still unsure if what he’s seeing isn’t a memory, Leone reaches to touch his own horns, flinching when all he can feel on the right is a painful sting. He looks at his palm, seeing blood. Just to be sure he checks again and is relieved to find that at least his left horn is still in its place. Illuso’s shorter right one is too. They probably didn’t get as tightly twisted because they’re already stubby from the last incident.
History likes to repeat itself, doesn’t it?
“Aaaghh…” still whining, the albino clumsily stands up, pulling their broken off horns from water and pointing them at the other. “That’s the second time! You’ll pay me for this...!”
Leone assumes he should get up as well, but it’s not easy when the world spins with every move. He tries nevertheless, just because his opponent is approaching.
“Me? You were the one who started it,” he tells him, but his voice comes out weird. In fact, everything is weird; sounds feel distant, every step sends a vibration through his whole body and the horizon line refuses to stay horizontal. It’s like he had drunk a whole barrel of rum. “Come here f*cker and give me back my horn—uff!” he's barely finished speaking when he gets hit in the face with said horn.
“I’m right here, you blind idiot!”
Ah! The sense of distance got f*cked up too?! This is even worse than two barrels of rum!
He focuses on Illuso’s dumbass white face that’s now dripping with red and attempts to ram at it. He succeeds, but immediately regrets it, as the impact makes stars twinkle so brightly that he’s wondering what the hell are they doing here on earth overcrowding his vision instead of lighting up the night sky?.?...
“F–ff*ck! Why the hell did you do that?!” Illuso swears at him from behind those stars. “Stupid idiot! Stupid!”
“Stop calling me stupid!” he snaps from annoyance, blinking rapidly to get rid of those f*cking stars! “Come up with a more creative insult, ghost-face!”
“How dare you!!!” He only glimpses a fist flying at him before he falls, though he doesn’t feel the punch connecting. He must’ve tripped from dizziness, or didn’t register it because the violent sting in his broken horn took him by surprise. It feels like his forehead is being dipped in molten lava.
“Haah, give me a break damnit!” he exclaims, springing from the salty water as if burned. “Why don’t you just give up already and go eat sh*t with your very loyal crew!”
“No! Why don’t you go and die first!” Illuso responds in the same childish manner as always. He’s also having a hard time standing, but is still waving these severed horns like he’s an old lady chasing off crows from her crops.
“And why don’t you go find a life—”
He’s interrupted by a very painful splash of the cursed salty water which seemed to explode out of nowhere. In reality it was a very strange-looking raft that just landed between them, separating them before they could jump at each other’s throats again.
“Illuso!” someone calls from the sea, or rather from a colourful ship that appeared on the tilted horizon. It’s dangerously close to the shallows, but not enough to get stuck. Though thanks to that short distance Leone can make out a figure leaning over its railing. “Hop on!” it shouts.
“Melone?” the albino recognises him first, staring at the vessel in disbelief.
That shady circus host again? He’s the one who poisoned Bruno, Leone remembers. Oh, he needs to pay for what he’s done! He won’t let him go without revenge this time! For once he can take a page out of Illuso’s book.
“You!” he yells, pointing at the ship. The tiefling on board points back at him. He looks to be holding something in his hand. “Don’t think you’re running off that easily—”
Bang!
Suddenly he can’t speak anymore, or breathe for that matter, his lungs filling with blood. Something just went through his chest, breaking the rags secured by a sailor knot. And it definitely wasn’t an arrow. He feels hot blood spurting from him, drenching his clothes in red, then it’s cooled down by the godforsaken salty water which doesn’t feel so salty this time. In fact, he doesn’t feel much at all anymore…
“Get on now or I’m leaving without you!” is the last thing he hears before the sea closes above him. And when he manages to get up again and take a sloppy breath, Illuso is already on the raft being pulled over to the ship by a chain connecting the two vessels.
Leone doesn’t know what happened or how he did not see it coming, but he knows that he can’t let these two escape or they’ll get Bruno one day and send him to the nasty place... He has to... He has to stop them.... Kill them... Get rid of the danger… protect his dear Bruno…
"G–get back here!” he shouts after them. “Come b–back you cowards! You hear me, Spettro!?”
The albino turns around to look at him. Something in his expression is conflicted, unsure, like he’d very much like to return and finish him off for good, but he’s trying to keep cool and make the wise choice here.
“This isn’t the end, Nello!” he responds by waving these horns that he’s still holding. “Next time, I’ll rip that other half-horn right off your stupid stupid face!”
Leone bares his teeth in frustration and goes after the raft. The fact that he said it twice just reels him up even more.
“Get down here! Get—ugh!” he stumbles as he enters the deeper water. “Come here so that I can gouge your ghosty eyes out!” He keeps walking even when submerged all the way up to his bleeding torso. And yet the raft keeps getting smaller and smaller. Then the ship gets smaller too. “f*ck! Come back you bas–tards! Come– ba–mph!!” he falls underwater again and realises that something is pulling his tail so he thrashes around to get it off, but it’s stuck. Even as he breaks the surface, he’s still not any closer to the ship. There’s a line of red on the water in the distance between him and them, like he’s been swimming backwards this whole time. “Phh! Illu–so! You—”
Something grabs him by the hair and attempts to drag him to the shore. He can’t have that, he needs to catch up to the other two tieflings quickly! So he attacks whatever it is and, despite his weakness, manages to free himself from its clutches for a short moment. Not before he’s forcefully submerged this time and dragged to the shallows where he can finally take a breath.
“Get off!” he growls. “Let go of me—” A stinging slap on the face makes him stop struggling and actually look at his assaulter. He sees... a blurry green shape.
“f*cking stop already!” a familiar voice yells at him. “I’m tryin’ to save yer ass here! Get a hold of yerself!!”
He blinks. “Mis...ta?”
“Yeah, it’s me! Who else could it be!?” the orc answers loudly, still agitated, still holding him firmly by the hair.
“Mista…” Leone absentmindedly turns his head towards the sea. “We need to— we need to catch them—”
“No we don’t!”
“LET GO!” he tries to push the other giant away. “They’re escaping!”
Mista forces his head back underwater for a second to calm him down and then grabs his face in both hands so that he can’t look away. “Leave it!” he shouts, leaning over him. “Ya lost yer mind?! Yer bleedin’ like crazy over here and ye still wanna fight!? Just drop it already!” He brings him even closer when Leone attempts to shake his head. “Listen to me, man! Bruno is waiting for ya just around the corner and he’ll kill me if I don’t bring ya home in one piece, ya get me??”
Only when he hears his name does his mind finally clear up. “Bru...no?” His dearest Bruno, the kindest person on this earth... “He’s... all...right?” His voice is dwindling away without his permission. It’s rude.
“Yes, he’s fine,” the orc assures, though his face looks very uneasy. “But yer not.”
“I’m ok...ay…”
“No, yer not, dumbass! Ya look like a walking corpse! Bruno would get a heart attack if he saw ya right now!”
That makes him chuckle weakly. Only Mista could say something like that. Too bad it only triggers him to vomit blood.
“Don’t laugh, idiot!”
Suddenly he feels very cold, probably shivering involuntarily, so he pushes himself against the other giant. His wet sweater is so warm, or maybe just warmer than his own body.
The orc slips his hands underneath his armpits and pulls him up with ease because Leone is now more of a drained flesh sack with soggy limbs than a proper giant equal in size to him. He puts his palms on the other’s biceps but he can feel his strength slipping away rapidly. He never thought that he would get reduced to a useless rag one day...
“Damn, ya looked way heavier,” the comment slips from Mista’s mouth almost unconsciously. His face goes pale seeing the extent of the other’s injuries, now on full display when he’s not halfway underwater. Perhaps he really became a walking corpse now, who knows, he certainly feels like one... Do corpses even feel anything? “Hey! Don’t faint on me here!” Ah, he must’ve spaced out for a second there. He can’t force out any words, so he tries to reassure the other with a weak smile. “Yeah, smile while ya still can,” the orc says sarcastically, “cuz I’ll break all yer teeth later for scaring me like that.” Then he flops him over his broad shoulder and gets them out of the water at last.
When Leone’s face is turned towards the sea, he manages to spot the bright sails of Melone’s ship in the far distance. He braces himself on Mista’s back to see if the raft is still there too, but only slips, smearing blood on his sweater. He can feel strong hands tightening their hold on his long legs and tail dangling almost all the way to the ground. This position only forces him to spit out more blood.
“I swear man, if ya die on me, I won’t f*cking forgive ya…” the orc mutters, his voice strangely shaky.
“I’m not... dying... shuddup…” he manages to utter, hoping it’ll put the other at ease.
“Ya better won’t be…” A loud sniff. “Cuz I’d miss ya like hell, man…” And he even gets a friendly pat on his hip.
Leone starts feeling bad for making him so worried. But he doesn’t have any more brainpower left to blame himself further because his mind is going blank and he’s beginning to slip into the realm of unconsciousness. He shouldn’t give in to it, but he’s too damn weak to fight it... Before he’s welcomed back by glowing stars and dancing black spots, he swears he sees a glimpse of the old elf with an overgrown dark beard and eyes that remind him so much of Bruno… his dearest… Bruno…
—-----------------
To him it all happened in the blink of an eye, as if he got merely distracted in the middle of his conversation with Mista, just before he could tell him that he’s overreacting. And yet, one moment he’s being carried from a beach in a less-than-flattering way, and the other he wakes up lying on a cloud-soft bed surrounded by warmth. He’d think he’s in heaven, if not for the pain in his entire body.
His muscles are so sore that the slightest movement makes him groan. He shouldn’t be shifting too much, though, or he’ll fall off the bed which... somehow fits him perfectly even in the curled up position. Strange, usually he tumbles to the floor thanks to the mattress’ awkward rectangular shape.
It’s... nice. He hasn’t felt this comfortable in a very long time... He thinks he could stay like this a bit longer.
He’s tired...
“Hey?”
The moment he lets his lids slip shut, someone has to disturb him. Just great. He opens his eyes and what greets him is certainly an unexpected sight.
A little tiefling boy stands before him, hands perched on the bed’s frame, face so close that their noses almost touch. He’s got pinkish-purple skin and eyes like honey which are narrowed at him. He looks no older than fifteen – which is like seven or eight for shorter living races. Such a youngster should still be under a foster mother’s care...
“Hello,” he greets him politely.
“…Hi,” Leone responds, finding that his voice sounds extremely rough, as if he hasn’t spoken in days. “What's… your name…?” he asks despite the fatigue it causes him. He’s weirdly concerned about this kid who he doesn’t even know.
“Pascale,” the boy introduces himself.
Leone nods slowly. “And… where’s your… mamma?”
Pascale crooks his head at him and then points somewhere behind himself, not breaking eye contact. “Talks to elfs,” he says with a very noticeable accent.
It takes a moment to register in his head who the ‘elfs’ could be and what this place is. When realisation hits, he raises his head slightly to take a look around, ignoring the ache in his bandaged neck, all the while the boy’s eyes still don’t leave him even for a moment. He notices familiar circular beds all around him, completely cushioned floor as well as a group of other young tieflings cuddling up to his blanket, some still asleep.
“Oh…” He quickly puts two and two together and figures that the only place that would accept battered castaways like them is a self-sufficient tiefling nursery, usually separated from the closest towns for the citizens’ comfort. It’s hard to believe that fate has allowed him to revisit such a nostalgic place... As for the elves that are supposedly also here: “Pascale,” he turns back to the boy for a little favour, “can you go ask your—”
“AAAH!!” a sudden yell accompanied by a clatter of something metallic hitting the floor interrupts him. It comes from the open doors where he spots Narancia, of all people, staring at them with his mouth agape. It looks like he was carrying some metal rods that he just dropped to the ground from shock. He doesn’t stay for long though, instead he quickly runs off yelling: “Buccellati!!”
Now it’s all clear. The gang’s here, it seems. How lucky they are to end up in the same place.
“—Or you don’t have to anymore,” Leone tells Pascale and gathers his strength to slide his heavy body from the bed, slipping from under the blanket and the little tieflings sitting on it. Some of them follow him down, others try to stop him, but he ignores them.
He has to meet him halfway when he comes. It’s been only a day at most, but he feels like he hasn’t seen him in forever. At some points he didn’t even think that he’d live through to the long anticipated reunion. And so he feels the need to be a bit more presentable in front of Bruno then a bedridden streak of misery. After all, there’s something very important he has to tell him...
Just when he manages to awkwardly drag his bottom half onto the floor cushions, Bruno himself appears in the doorway and their eyes meet instantly.
Suddenly, the entire world floats into the background and there’s nothing but Bruno and his blue, blue eyes widened in shock, black hair all in disarray from running and spotted white cape flowing behind him. He’s panting, but not from any fever anymore. No. He’s back to his perfectly put-together self, no traces of the drug’s effects left. His complexion is back to its olive glow, his ears just as pointy as they should be, hands free of any chains. Only his face is shaken from emotion, creating a captivating contrast. And yet, he’s still stunning, might even look cuter this way.
Leone can only hope that he doesn’t look as bad as Mista said, because he wouldn’t want to upset that fragile balance.
“Bruno…” he whispers in awe, not believing that he’s worthy of being perceived by the eyes of such a beautiful angel. Eyes that shine like diamonds.
The elf blinks away some of that shine as he runs to get his arms around him, as if he’d die if they stay apart any longer.
“Leo! Leo! Leone!” he chants through tears, pushing his face into the tiefling’s bandaged neck. His hands run through his hair repeatedly, restlessly attempting to smooth it out. It seems like he’s too afraid to touch any of his injuries which are, well, everywhere. “You finally woke up!” he cries, “I was so scared you wouldn’t…”
His broken voice makes something in Leone snap. Guilt, anger, longing and adoration all boil inside him at the same time, but one overpowers the rest and forces him to act. Quick! Now! Before you lose him again!
He rips his hands from the floor where his nails were digging themselves into the cushions, not needing their support anymore when Bruno is here. He grabs the other’s palms from the tangles of his hair and forces him to back off a little.
“I’m sorry, Leo,” the elf sniffs, wiggling his hands out to wipe his eyes. “I couldn’t—” he doesn’t get to finish because Leone cups his face and leans in to kiss him.
His eyes naturally slip shut and he lets himself indulge in his smell, his warmth, his shape... The little lips are parted in surprise, but he doesn’t dare go too deep, the smallest connection sending sparks behind his lids. He runs his fingers along the other’s ears, his jaw, his slender neck, then lower to his shoulders. Every part of him is so small, so fragile. And yet so solid that if he holds onto him, he knows he won't ever sink.
They break apart slowly, both lost to the sensation. And when their eyes meet again, it makes them shiver from the unexpected thrill. Bruno even ended up on his knees whoever knows when.
“Leo—”
“I love you too,” Leone interrupts him again, words leaving him like a waterfall. “I love you, Bruno!” he confesses, pushing their foreheads together, because the other’s face is getting blurry and he needs to see it right now! “I’m sorry... I’m sorry I was difficult... I loved you before I even knew... I’m sorry I made it so difficult to love me back…”
Bruno’s eyes get glossier than ever and he slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle his sob, but quickly gives up in order to embrace the giant without holding himself back this time. It’s absolutely worth even the most unbearable pain. “Leone, oh Leone,” the elf mumbles into the rough fabric of his bandages. “Don’t apologise, please. Just— I– I love you so much, Leo!”
In order to not topple over from feelings overdose, Leone has to bring one of his hands back to the floor to not lean all of his weight on Bruno, using him as a literal support. He wraps his other hand around the elf’s shaking torso and rests his chin on his shoulder. He can see Narancia and Bruno’s father watching them from the entrance, the latter looking very different without a beard. His features are a lot softer now as he smiles at him fondly.
He returns the smile, tilting his head to lean on Bruno’s, who is still quietly sobbing ‘I love you’s into his chest. Soon he’s joined by a choir of other voices singing along with him.
“Love you! Love you!” the little tieflings chant surrounding them and joining the hug without invitation.
Leone feels the elf’s frame begin to shake in a different way and he can’t help but start laughing himself. “Pff hahaha, you stupid kids... Shut up!” he exclaims with fond amusem*nt. “You don’t even know what it means!”
They don’t really shut up, but at least the mood lightened enough for Narancia to enter the room and start dragging some of them away.
“Alright, leave them alone, you lizards! Wait till you’re old enough for it!” he scolds playfully, placing the smaller ones on the round beds.
Bruno eventually pulls away from him and wipes the tears off his cheeks. “Leone…” he says softly, reaching towards his forehead. “Your horn…”
Oh, that. It’s not a big deal, really. Though, granted, he won’t know how bad it looks until he finds a mirror, but he lived with ugly asymmetrical horns for most of his life. What’s a missing one gonna change?
He just shrugs. “I know. It’s fine.”
“Will it ever grow back?” the elf asks with underlying sadness in his voice as he traces his fingers over whatever’s left of said horn delicately.
“Maybe it will, maybe it won’t…” This probably isn’t the response that he’d want to hear, but Leone really can’t be bothered to care about his useless ornaments right now. “But I don’t need to impress anyone with it anymore. Because I’ve already attracted the best mate I could’ve ever asked for,” he sighs, catching Bruno’s hand and dropping a lingering kiss on the back of it.
His words make the other blush so heavily that he literally gets shy and turns his head away, accidentally catching eye contact with the dwarf who makes an awfully inappropriate gesture with his fingers. “Ah!” the elf exclaims, remembering something and turns to pull a familiar little jewel from his pocket. “Leo, Narancia granted you exclusive permission to keep this,” he says, presenting him with the silver tailring, “and I looked after it for you.”
Damn, that tiny thing never fails to turn his face into a steamer. He glances at the dwarf nonchalantly giving them thumbs up as if the ‘ring’ context would excuse him making obscene gestures in front of children. Regardless, he can’t pretend he’s concerned with anything other than getting that thing on his tail right now. So he raises its scarred end up and lets Bruno do the honours.
“Don’t lose it – it’s quite precious to me too,” he says quietly and Leone can only nod in agreement.
Somehow nobody noticed when Bruno’s father approached them. He stands behind his son like a shadow and doesn’t move until the younger elf turns around and spots him. Then he takes a step towards the tiefling and places a firm hand on his head to pet him, carefully avoiding his hurting horns.
“Get better quickly, my boy,” he tells him. “We’re leaving for Sicily soon.”
Leone looks up at him with wide eyes, afraid he might be overinterpreting that single gesture, but it practically speaks by itself. He managed to keep his own tears at bay up until now, but he can’t be ashamed of letting them flow after being accepted into a family. Bruno’s family no less...
“Th–thank you…” he swallows, having to dip his head down to hide his face. The old man’s warm hand doesn’t leave its spot, even when Bruno embraces him again and kisses him on the cheek, pushing one of his ugly drooping ears out of the way. The one with a missing notch.
Even though his body hurts all over and he’s embarrassed as all hell, he’s never been happier in his entire life than he is right now.
—-----------------
“Bruno!”
“Tiz!” he exclaims, running up to greet the harpy with a welcoming hug.
“Why didn’t you write about the fact that you finally found your father?!” Tiziano asks the moment they break their embrace, his long head feathers raised on alert. “We just had the strangest misunderstanding in the port!”
Bruno can’t help but chuckle, hearing that. Peeking from over the other’s shoulder he can already see Mista and the man in question approaching them. The old elf really does look similar to him with shoulder-length hair that he decided to deal with once they’re home, only brushing them down for now. Though they’re peppered with plenty of stray greys, instead of being completely jet black like Bruno’s, not to mention unstyled, so it’s really only possible to confuse them from afar. And harpies have great visual acuity, so he has a feeling that the orc must’ve played a part in this...
“Mista sent that letter while I was unconscious,” he reveals, raising an eyebrow at the potential culprit who only gives him an innocent grin. “I have no idea what he wrote in there…”
“Oh, he basically begged us to come and save your collective ass from trouble again,” the harpy paraphrases sarcastically, also taking a suspicious glance at the giant. “So he could’ve meant anyone.”
“Don’t worry,” the orc waves a hand performatively. “I don’t need to be ‘saved’ anymore - Menini managed to get us a second ship from her neighbour here, so I’m off the list.”
“Wait, so you’re not going with us to Sicily?” Tiziano asks.
Mista shakes his head. “Nah, man. I’ve had enough adventures for now. Besides, I gotta drop Narancia home first,” he gestures behind himself at the dwarf who is carrying some mechanical parts to the shore with the help of a few little tieflings. They basically became his minions over the past week.
“I will fly home!” the boy corrects, pointing at his disjointed contraption. “In my new and improved Iside 2.0!”
Suddenly Fugo runs out of the nursery’s entrance, as if looking for someone. “Pascale? Oh, for Gods’ sake— Narancia! I told you to stop distracting these kids from their lessons!” he yells, but the other completely disregards him.
“Hah,” Mista chuckles observing casually as they fight over one purple tiefling as if he was a ragdoll. “I’m always impressed how he manages to find materials for his flyin’ sh*t wherever he stays…”
Bruno flinches and looks from side to side, realising that the boy probably stole something from the neighbourhood again. Ah, well, maybe Fugo kept an eye on him this time since they have been going through some very heated negotiations over the credits for their shared invention. That boy is an extreme control freak, he wouldn’t let something like that slide under his nose.
Indeed, it’s been a noisy few days, he thinks. He’s glad to be going home... and excited too, about the people he’s bringing along. Their little family has definitely grown. His mom will be so surprised — not only to see her long lost husband, but also to meet not one, but two tieflings!
And speaking of the devil, here comes Leone who finally dragged himself out of bed. He stumbles on the doorstep slightly, but is assisted by Fugo and slowly limps towards them using a cane provided by signora Filippa. One of his feet got absolutely shredded on its underside so it’ll take some time before he’ll be able to walk without pain. His face looks smaller without that one horn, and the stump of it is still red. He’s still so horribly weak, the poor thing, but it’s only been a couple of days since he woke up - he’ll get better. It’s Leone after all.
But he does look quite miserable, so it's understandable that Tiziano would react with concern upon seeing him.
“Oh dear, what happened to you??”
Leone, being himself, obviously has to brush it off. “Long story,” he shrugs. As much as he denies his pain, he still lets people take care of him (perhaps because he’s actually enjoying the attention). He welcomes Mista’s help without complaints as the orc rushes to provide him with a shoulder to lean on.
“I hope yer ready, goathead,” he shakes the other giant lightly after slipping an arm around his torso, “for a lifetime of getting dragged around the world ‘cause good luck keeping that man in one place for longer than a week.” He punctuates his accusation by pointing his finger at the elf. “He’ll be the end of ya, I bet.” Bruno can only roll his eyes at that.
“It’s a fitting end for a bodyguard,” the tiefling grins and also puts one arm around the other. “And you have fun being retired, shortie,” he teases, purposefully pushing Mista’s hat over his eyes.
“Ya meant to say free! I’m a free man!”
“Hey, kid,” Leone keeps their little game going by ignoring that and turning his attention to Fugo. “Do you also have a flying machine prototype that you’d like to take with yourself?”
The boy is unusually quiet, head turned down, tail bouncing on the ground. He still has the brace on his wing, but it doesn’t look like it’s the cause of his discomfort. Something serious seems to be going through his head. “I…” he starts, glancing back at the nursery building. “I’m staying here.”
“Huh?” both giants yelp, caught off guard.
“What?!” he exclaims, frustration already seeping into his voice. “What am I supposed to do in Sicily? In a few years I’ll most likely leave to look for my own place once I’m of age. I’d rather stay here till then.”
The others are acting all surprised, but Bruno can’t say he didn’t see it coming, and he thinks it’s a pretty reasonable choice. Tieflings should stay together, after all, especially when they’re young. He understands that now better than ever.
He smiles at the boy when they meet eyes and gives him a nod. He got the underlying message: it’s not like he is actually going to leave and look for his own place later, because: “You’ve found your place?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
Fugo’s face grows darker and he turns his pout away from everyone’s eyes. “I think I want to be a teacher... Here,” he mutters shyly. “It’s... fun.”
Honestly, the most surprising thing here is hearing the word ‘fun’ from the ex-aristocrat’s mouth. This place might be isolated and dangerous to visit, but perhaps this sacrifice is worth letting him have some fun.
“Good for you, kid,” Leone sighs, grinning proudly.
“Teach ‘em how to deal with pirates,” Mista adds with a wink. “Could be helpful around here.”
There’s a genuine smile on the boy’s face. Bruno couldn’t have asked for a better farewell gift………… …… …
He can still see it when he closes his eyes, even now as they’re sailing through the blue waves. Him, his father and Leone. Back south, back home.
The sea is calm, the sky clear and the sun brighter than it ever is on land. It’s hard to believe that winter is almost here...
Bruno stays hidden under the shade of an umbrella, petting Leone's head situated in his lap. The rest of the tiefling’s body is enjoying a much needed sunbathe, his tail waving slowly in relaxation, making the silver ring on its tip catch the light. It’s the only indicator that he’s still awake. His dad fell asleep in their shared cabin, lulled by the familiar hum of the sea.
From the crows nest comes Tiziano’s voice, singing a soothing tune.
“At the end of the river, the sundown beams ♪ All the relics of a life long lived ♪ Here, weary traveller, rest your wand ♪ Sleep the journey from your eyes~”
It’s so peaceful. Finally, life has slowed down…
“Leo,” he says, gently running his fingers on the other’s last, chipped horn.
“Mm?” a sleepy hum responds.
“Where do you want to travel once you’re all healed?”
“Oh?” the tiefling crooks his head up to give him an amused look. “So Mista wasn’t kidding, eh?” Bruno only grins in response. “Well, I did promise Illuso to beat the sh*t outta him the next time we cross paths…” he says sarcastically, not really answering his question. But it’s okay. Normally the first thing you do after returning from travel is reminisce about the road you’ve come before you set off again.
And, oh boy, do they have quite some memories from their first journey. Their unexpected meeting in Buccino, a chilly night in the ruins of Pompeii – Leone’s old home, stealing Narancia from Eclano, Roma... a lot happened in Roma... It’s crazy to think that it’s only been a month! And it all started with a single letter from Narnia...
Ah, that makes him remember something. “And I promised Giorno to come and visit to see how his new kingdom turned out,” he says, absentmindedly playing with Leone’s ear, tracing the missing notch.
“You did?”
Well, he might have. But Bruno was actually thinking about his promise to Marcello – he promised that he’ll make this neglected man happy, to give him back the life he lost on stage. And he is going to keep his word.
“Leo…” he starts, keeping his voice low, looks deep into those bottomless golden eyes and sees his reflection inside of them. “You know you’re still my bodyguard, right?”
His beloved tiefling blinks at him with all four of his lids. And then smiles like a charming adventurer who wears his scars with pride.
“Yes, and you are mine.”
Fin…
