Aisuma looked up. Gable, sitting opposite him around the small fire he had built in order to cook them a meal, was gathering his hair into a tail at the back of his neck (though he didn’t tie it so it just slid loose). The elf’s eyes were open, curious, fixed on the heavy clothing Aisuma wore. It wasn’t as thick as if he were a native from the winter lands, but the Middling was in a perpetual state of cool, a mix of all of the seasons. It necessitated their clothing be always a certain density.
“I’m fine,” he told him firmly. Truthfully? He was hot. He wasn’t used to the heat of the summer lands, and his clothes were ill-suited. However, he didn’t want to undress in front of Gable, no matter how generously or kindly he had treated him, offering to show him the way through the summer lands, or how they would soon be sharing food.
Gable’s eyebrow lifted. “You think I don’t notice you sweating?” he asked, his tone lilting higher in what Aisuma guessed was amusement. He rose, dusting off the seat of his pants, and walked around to sit alongside him. Aisuma’s tail twitched, but Gable didn’t give it a glance, instead lifting a long finger to pull Aisuma’s hanging black hair off of his forehead. Aisuma tensed but didn’t do anything, feeling a small twinge of annoyance when he felt hair clinging to his skin. “See?”
“I’m really fine,” Aisuma mumbled, trying to seem as stern as before. Gable just snorted.
There was a click of a buckle and Aisuma’s clothes went slack around the neck. He slapped his hands (hidden under material) up quickly to grab at them and gave Gable an accusing look.
Gable, smiling, just cocked his head innocently. “I’m just helping you out. Here, don’t be self-conscious. You’re small, but it’s no big deal.”
“How small I am isn’t the issue…!”
Gable just laughed and Aisuma contemplated smacking him with the sharp edge of his tail when the fabric loosened that much more—the crafty elf had found the toggles and with them unfastened, his clothing fell around his waist. Before he thought about it, he’d lifted his hands, and that was his mistake.
So too, Aisuma thought, was telling Gable the only components of his curse were his tail and his horns.
Gable’s smile disappeared, his eyes fixing on the long, sharp black nails on Aisuma’s hand. His fingers up to the first knuckle were black and looked strange, because they had been covered with thin scales. Thin enough one could make out the colour of Aisuma’s skin underneath, but present and unavoidable. Aisuma, wincing, moved to bundle himself back up but Gable had moved further into his space, staying his hand with one of his.
Damn that Gable, he thought in an uncharacteristic moment of brutal self-consciousness. He was tall and lanky, and even though his hands were monstrous (or on the way to monstrous), Gable’s hands were still bigger than his. Hunkering his shoulders, he stared down at his lap and the bunched folds of his clothing where they fell, ignoring that he could see a few strands of Gable’s hair swaying at the corner of his vision.
“…It’s not just the tail and horns, huh?”
Gable’s fingertip, soft as the brush of a feather, grazed the scaly black skin of Aisuma’s finger.
“…”
He said nothing. Gable knew well enough. He heard the elf sigh over his head.
“How bad is it?” Finally, he sunk back, though he was still kneeling in front of Aisuma. Aisuma shrugged his clothing back up, but Gable gave him a look that seemed to say it’s a little late now and he stopped himself. Giving in, Aisuma pulled the heavy outer clothes off, setting them aside, leaving him in just the shirt cut to his elbows underneath.
Unsure what to do with his own hands, he curled his fingers together.
“I’ll eventually turn into a monster,” he told Gable, matter-of-fact, and the elf twitched. “It isn’t as bad as it sounds. My mother is a monster. We’ve had this curse in my family for a long, long time.” Aisuma paused. “Our ancestors became monsters in behavior and thoughts, but we’ve learned how to retain ourselves. Now it’s just our bodies that end up changing.”
“So this is…” Gable’s long forefinger touched the back of Aisuma’s awkwardly clenched hands again. To Aisuma’s great surprise, he lingered and kept touching. Looking through the dark fringe of his hair, he assessed Gable’s expression, but it was hardly disgusted. He seemed… well, Aisuma wasn’t certain, honestly. The smile that he had gotten used to seeing had disappeared as his forefinger followed down one of Aisuma’s blackened fingers. He could read the people who he had spent his entire life with, but he had a hard time with Gable.
At the very least, Gable didn’t look at him in the same way Adrien did—with the feeling he was being pitied. It was enough to make his shoulders bunch and for a urge to blurt out that he wasn’t pitiable. Or, at least, he didn’t want pity.
“Yes. The curse. It often starts from the feet, but it’s not unusual for it to start affecting the hands early.” Another matter-of-fact statement, but this was something Aisuma had known his entire life.
Gable laughed faintly, a laugh as though something struck him as unbelievable. “You can talk about this easily,” he said.
“My mother is a monster.” Aisuma paused and narrowed his dark eyes. “…Just so you know, she is beautiful as she is. She is very kind and gentle.” He had only ever known her as a monster. By the time he had been born, her transformation had been complete, so he had grown up with two sets of eyes looking down upon him, large scaly hands cradling him, had grasped the whip-thin tip of a tail and had fallen against it when he had walked. She had licked the scrapes on his knee with her tongue and they’d healed right away and he’d burrowed himself against her snout to his mother’s gentle snuffle.
Gable’s expression softened and he shook his head. “I didn’t say anything. You’ve seen the creatures that live in my land. You’ve noticed they’re unusual, haven’t you? I love them all the same.”
“…I apologise.”
Gable laughed, and now it was the carefree sound Aisuma had heard several times from him already, when they’d been making their way across the colourful landscape of his home. “Don’t worry about it. I suppose I’m one of the first ones outside of your tribe you’ve told this to, are I?” his voice was unusually bright, but Aisuma didn’t linger on why that was for long. Gable wasn’t giving him the chance, for he had taken Aisuma’s hand in his own.
“What is it?” he asked, frowning at that hand cupping his.
“You’ll be searching for a cure for this curse of yours before you change, right?” Gable asked without answering. “All by yourself?”
“That was my intention…”
My ancestors have always done that, he opened his mouth to continue, but Gable was opening his own.
“Then, I’ll come along with you and help. It’s more fun when you aren’t travelling on your own, isn’t it?” His eyes had narrowed, but it wasn’t an unfriendly expression, it was more like the narrowing of a playful cat, or like his mother when she was about to tease or scoop up his father. “Two heads are better than one, too.”
“What…?” Aisuma’s mouth had gone dry. Gable was… what?
“Really, is it that shocking? Don’t your tribe always do things for each other?”
“Yeah, but that… that’s different!” Aisuma didn’t know what to say. He felt his tongue suddenly heavy and awkward in his mouth, like the words he could form with it would be paltry. So he closed his teeth together and stared at Gable, trying to discern his intentions. But there was just softness in his greenish eyes, his smile widening.
“Don’t think too hard on it.” Aisuma jumped when Gable flicked his forehead with a forefinger. “If anything, you can just take it as my capriciousness! Okay?”
→ aisuma • gable
Aisuma looked up. Gable, sitting opposite him around the small fire he had built in order to cook them a meal, was gathering his hair into a tail at the back of his neck (though he didn’t tie it so it just slid loose). The elf’s eyes were open, curious, fixed on the heavy clothing Aisuma wore. It wasn’t as thick as if he were a native from the winter lands, but the Middling was in a perpetual state of cool, a mix of all of the seasons. It necessitated their clothing be always a certain density.
“I’m fine,” he told him firmly. Truthfully? He was hot. He wasn’t used to the heat of the summer lands, and his clothes were ill-suited. However, he didn’t want to undress in front of Gable, no matter how generously or kindly he had treated him, offering to show him the way through the summer lands, or how they would soon be sharing food.
Gable’s eyebrow lifted. “You think I don’t notice you sweating?” he asked, his tone lilting higher in what Aisuma guessed was amusement. He rose, dusting off the seat of his pants, and walked around to sit alongside him. Aisuma’s tail twitched, but Gable didn’t give it a glance, instead lifting a long finger to pull Aisuma’s hanging black hair off of his forehead. Aisuma tensed but didn’t do anything, feeling a small twinge of annoyance when he felt hair clinging to his skin. “See?”
“I’m really fine,” Aisuma mumbled, trying to seem as stern as before. Gable just snorted.
There was a click of a buckle and Aisuma’s clothes went slack around the neck. He slapped his hands (hidden under material) up quickly to grab at them and gave Gable an accusing look.
Gable, smiling, just cocked his head innocently. “I’m just helping you out. Here, don’t be self-conscious. You’re small, but it’s no big deal.”
“How small I am isn’t the issue…!”
Gable just laughed and Aisuma contemplated smacking him with the sharp edge of his tail when the fabric loosened that much more—the crafty elf had found the toggles and with them unfastened, his clothing fell around his waist. Before he thought about it, he’d lifted his hands, and that was his mistake.
So too, Aisuma thought, was telling Gable the only components of his curse were his tail and his horns.
Gable’s smile disappeared, his eyes fixing on the long, sharp black nails on Aisuma’s hand. His fingers up to the first knuckle were black and looked strange, because they had been covered with thin scales. Thin enough one could make out the colour of Aisuma’s skin underneath, but present and unavoidable. Aisuma, wincing, moved to bundle himself back up but Gable had moved further into his space, staying his hand with one of his.
Damn that Gable, he thought in an uncharacteristic moment of brutal self-consciousness. He was tall and lanky, and even though his hands were monstrous (or on the way to monstrous), Gable’s hands were still bigger than his. Hunkering his shoulders, he stared down at his lap and the bunched folds of his clothing where they fell, ignoring that he could see a few strands of Gable’s hair swaying at the corner of his vision.
“…It’s not just the tail and horns, huh?”
Gable’s fingertip, soft as the brush of a feather, grazed the scaly black skin of Aisuma’s finger.
“…”
He said nothing. Gable knew well enough. He heard the elf sigh over his head.
“How bad is it?” Finally, he sunk back, though he was still kneeling in front of Aisuma. Aisuma shrugged his clothing back up, but Gable gave him a look that seemed to say it’s a little late now and he stopped himself. Giving in, Aisuma pulled the heavy outer clothes off, setting them aside, leaving him in just the shirt cut to his elbows underneath.
Unsure what to do with his own hands, he curled his fingers together.
“I’ll eventually turn into a monster,” he told Gable, matter-of-fact, and the elf twitched. “It isn’t as bad as it sounds. My mother is a monster. We’ve had this curse in my family for a long, long time.” Aisuma paused. “Our ancestors became monsters in behavior and thoughts, but we’ve learned how to retain ourselves. Now it’s just our bodies that end up changing.”
“So this is…” Gable’s long forefinger touched the back of Aisuma’s awkwardly clenched hands again. To Aisuma’s great surprise, he lingered and kept touching. Looking through the dark fringe of his hair, he assessed Gable’s expression, but it was hardly disgusted. He seemed… well, Aisuma wasn’t certain, honestly. The smile that he had gotten used to seeing had disappeared as his forefinger followed down one of Aisuma’s blackened fingers. He could read the people who he had spent his entire life with, but he had a hard time with Gable.
At the very least, Gable didn’t look at him in the same way Adrien did—with the feeling he was being pitied. It was enough to make his shoulders bunch and for a urge to blurt out that he wasn’t pitiable. Or, at least, he didn’t want pity.
“Yes. The curse. It often starts from the feet, but it’s not unusual for it to start affecting the hands early.” Another matter-of-fact statement, but this was something Aisuma had known his entire life.
Gable laughed faintly, a laugh as though something struck him as unbelievable. “You can talk about this easily,” he said.
“My mother is a monster.” Aisuma paused and narrowed his dark eyes. “…Just so you know, she is beautiful as she is. She is very kind and gentle.” He had only ever known her as a monster. By the time he had been born, her transformation had been complete, so he had grown up with two sets of eyes looking down upon him, large scaly hands cradling him, had grasped the whip-thin tip of a tail and had fallen against it when he had walked. She had licked the scrapes on his knee with her tongue and they’d healed right away and he’d burrowed himself against her snout to his mother’s gentle snuffle.
Gable’s expression softened and he shook his head. “I didn’t say anything. You’ve seen the creatures that live in my land. You’ve noticed they’re unusual, haven’t you? I love them all the same.”
“…I apologise.”
Gable laughed, and now it was the carefree sound Aisuma had heard several times from him already, when they’d been making their way across the colourful landscape of his home. “Don’t worry about it. I suppose I’m one of the first ones outside of your tribe you’ve told this to, are I?” his voice was unusually bright, but Aisuma didn’t linger on why that was for long. Gable wasn’t giving him the chance, for he had taken Aisuma’s hand in his own.
“What is it?” he asked, frowning at that hand cupping his.
“You’ll be searching for a cure for this curse of yours before you change, right?” Gable asked without answering. “All by yourself?”
“That was my intention…”
My ancestors have always done that, he opened his mouth to continue, but Gable was opening his own.
“Then, I’ll come along with you and help. It’s more fun when you aren’t travelling on your own, isn’t it?” His eyes had narrowed, but it wasn’t an unfriendly expression, it was more like the narrowing of a playful cat, or like his mother when she was about to tease or scoop up his father. “Two heads are better than one, too.”
“What…?” Aisuma’s mouth had gone dry. Gable was… what?
“Really, is it that shocking? Don’t your tribe always do things for each other?”
“Yeah, but that… that’s different!” Aisuma didn’t know what to say. He felt his tongue suddenly heavy and awkward in his mouth, like the words he could form with it would be paltry. So he closed his teeth together and stared at Gable, trying to discern his intentions. But there was just softness in his greenish eyes, his smile widening.
“Don’t think too hard on it.” Aisuma jumped when Gable flicked his forehead with a forefinger. “If anything, you can just take it as my capriciousness! Okay?”