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Dragonspine never quite reaches a temperature that an outsider might call warm. But there are days, like today, when the frost is less biting and the cold is less cold, and the snow floats down gently instead of whipping into your face, and Albedo doesn’t have to keep reminding Klee to stop taking off her mittens lest she lose a finger or two.
“Paimon!” yells the mittenless child in question, running ahead. “I bet I can reach the campsite before you!”
“You’re on!” Paimon chirps. “Count us down, Lumi!”
“Careful, Klee,” Albedo says, and is thoroughly ignored.
The Traveler clears her throat officiously. “On your marks, contestants! Ready, set, go!”
The snow kicks up in puffs of blinding white as Klee’s little feet pound down the path. She hurtles towards the bend, a slash of red against the frigid landscape, one hand clutching at her hat to keep it from flying off. She takes the bend too fast and almost tumbles into a snowbank—Albedo winces vicariously—but manages to catch herself and dashes around the corner, hot on Paimon’s heels. The two of them fall into a heated debate just out of sight.
Lumine laughs, the sound ringing off the white-capped peaks. “I think Paimon won that, but I might be biased.”
Albedo shakes his head. “No, you’re right. Klee is many wonderful things, but an athlete is not one of them.”
Lumine turns to him, and the mirth in the lines of her face is accompanied by something so painfully tender that he startles and looks away instinctively. “Thanks for suggesting this walk, Albedo. I’m glad you’re here with me.”
He blinks rapidly at the ground. “This is what friends do. Isn’t it?”
“Right,” she says, sounding amused. “We are doing a very good job of being friends.”
He frowns, raising his eyes to hers. “If my friendship is… unsatisfactory–”
Lumine inhales. “Albedo, that’s not what I meant.”
“I know I am not particularly skilled at human friendships,” he says, too fast, words tumbling over themselves, “but I hope you know that you are– that this is– important to me, and that you can tell me if I’m doing it wrong–”
Her hands are gripping his forearms gently before he even registers that she moved. “Stop,” she says. “Albedo, stop. I’m sorry.”
His shoulders hitch up. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I do,” she says. “I shouldn’t have… I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t enough. You being here, with me—I couldn’t ask for more.”
A light breeze rustles through the evergreens and blows a lock of hair into Albedo’s face. Lumine’s eyes crinkle and she reaches up to brush it away, her warm fingers lingering for a second too long.
There are a million reasons why he should pull away.
But he does not feel particularly reasonable right now.
So he lets himself lean into her touch, his cheek meeting the soft fabric of her glove. It’s the tiniest of movements—but he can tell from the hitch in Lumine’s breathing that she’s noticed.
He meets her eyes, and then he cannot look away. Her lips part. He thinks, for a second, that she is going to say something.
“Miss Honorary Knight!” Klee yells from around the bend, and the moment shatters like a glass bauble crushed in careless hands.
Albedo snaps out of his trance and jerks away from Lumine. Something like disappointment flickers over her features, there and gone.
“I should…” she starts, indicating the direction of the yell.
“Of course,” he says.
She nods and strides off, and does not look back.
He doesn’t mean to stare. But he watches her walk away, his eyes lingering on her back until she rounds the bend and disappears. On impulse, he puts his hand up to his cheek where her warm palm rested a few seconds ago, but… it doesn’t quite feel the same.
“Well, that was pathetic,” says a voice behind him.
Albedo whips around. A tall and annoyingly familiar man is sauntering towards him, his brown hair tied into a low ponytail, his grin wide and not altogether pleasant.
Albedo scowls, hand on the hilt of his weapon. “What do you want, Joserf.”
“Joel’s with a friend, so I had a little free time,” Joserf says. “Decided to take a walk up the mountain, and what do I see but my precious baby brother, busy pining after a girl.”
As he strolls towards Albedo, the man begins to morph in a way that is both beautiful and terribly disconcerting, like a rainbow in a puddle of oil. His skin ripples like jelly and his body seems to shrink into itself, as if someone stretched him out and now his limbs are slowly contracting back into place. The colour leaches from his hair until it’s the same shade as Albedo’s own, his eyes taking on the blue of the sky.
He comes to a stop in front of Albedo and grins.
“I’m not your brother, Subject Two,” Albedo says. “And I’m not pining.”
Subject Two’s eyebrows jump. “So you mean to tell me you haven’t been yearning for that pretty Traveler for, oh, ever?”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” Albedo snaps.
“Hmm. That’s not a no.”
“I’m not– She doesn’t–” Albedo shakes his head and tries again. “We aren’t like that.”
“Okay,” Subject Two says easily. “So… if you don’t want her… can I have her?”
Albedo’s face twists. “Screw you,” he bites out.
Subject Two laughs. “See,” he says conversationally, “here’s what I don’t understand. You are so sickeningly in love with her. And if that sappy little display earlier is any indicator, she might even like you back—although what she sees in you I can’t imagine. So what exactly is stopping you from pursuing her?”
Albedo hesitates, eyes flicking to the side. “You know very well that relationships don’t come naturally to either of us,” he says finally. “I can’t risk one of the few friends I have just because I want… just because I’m foolish enough to want more.”
Subject Two narrows his eyes. “Let me get this straight. You have this wonderful, unique opportunity for human warmth and connection. This thing that I would gladly have killed you for. And you’re squandering it because you’re scared?”
Albedo presses his lips together and doesn’t respond.
The look Subject Two levels at him is distinctly unimpressed. “I can’t believe Mother thought you were the superior specimen when clearly your brain is only half formed.”
Albedo is opening his mouth to retort when Klee’s voice rings out. “Albedo? Are you coming? Hello?”
He glances towards the bend. “I have to go.”
“Fine,” says Subject Two, as Albedo jogs away. “Run along, then.”
It’s quiet on Dragonspine without Klee and Paimon around. Lumine never talks much, but the other two certainly make enough noise to compensate.
The frigid night creeps into Albedo’s campsite, rebuffed only by the valiant burning of his braziers. He scribbles a note on his chalkboard and stifles a yawn. He’ll go to bed soon. Just… one more minute.
And then footsteps ring out loudly at the entrance to his cave.
Albedo goes for his sword on instinct. He whirls around, blade drawn, and comes face to face with himself.
No, not himself—Subject Two, wearing Albedo’s skin. Bastard.
Subject Two rolls his eyes and sidesteps the sword, hoisting himself up to sit on Albedo’s crafting bench. “Please. You won’t kill me.”
Albedo lowers his sword but doesn’t sheathe it. “I killed that whopperflower friend of yours. Don’t think I won’t do it again.”
“You had your chance. And instead of slitting my throat, you kindly set me up with a new identity and a child to take care of. You wouldn’t make Joel lose his dad again, would you?”
Oh, Albedo hates that he’s right. He grimaces and sheaths his sword.
“Lovely,” Subject Two says blithely. “Now, I come bearing good news.” He raises his eyebrows in expectation.
Albedo stares at him.
This is apparently not the reaction Subject Two was hoping for, because the silence stretches out for a second, and then three, and then five.
Subject Two frowns. “What, not going to ask? Ugh, fine.” He makes a grandiose gesture with his hands, twirling them in the air like a conductor. “Rejoice, brother, for I have decided to help you ask your crush out.”
Albedo blinks. “What.”
Subject Two looks disgruntled. “You could show a little more excitement, you know. This’ll be fun! I was thinking–”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean no, Subject Two,” Albedo snaps, confusion giving way to annoyance. “Are you out of your mind? What makes you think I want your help?”
Subject Two tips his head to the side. “Okay, so you haven’t denied that you have a crush. That’s progress, Albedo!”
Albedo shakes his head. “Whether or not I have a crush is irrelevant to the question at hand.”
Subject Two’s smile holds no mirth. “You sound just like Mother when you talk like that. That’s not a good thing, by the way. Anyway, as I was saying, I could coach you in what to say–”
“Get out of my workshop.”
“So ungrateful. It’s natural to be scared, you know. I could hold your hand if you’re nervous.”
“Get out,” Albedo repeats.
Subject Two sighs in mock regret. “Well, if you’re sure you don’t want to ask her out—maybe I’ll just do it myself.”
Albedo’s jaw goes tight. “Don’t,” he manages, through gritted teeth.
“Huh,” says Subject Two, taking in the newfound tension with barely concealed delight. “Now that’s an idea.”
“Don’t.”
“How long do you think I can impersonate you for?” Subject Two tips his head up to stare thoughtfully at the ceiling.
Albedo is faced with the visceral urge to wrap his hands around the slender, starless throat and squeeze. “Shut up.”
“I think I can keep up the dumbass act enough to ask her out.”
“Shut up.”
“Maybe even long enough to take her on a date? Steal a kiss?”
“I swear to gods, Subject Two–”
Subject Two’s eyes snap back down, his face alight with sudden and startling anger. “I have a name,” he snarls.
“Joserf,” Albedo says. “For gods’ sakes, please.”
The anger smooths off Joserf’s face as quickly as it came, leaving something almost pensive in its wake. “What are you so scared of? Getting hurt? You’ll get hurt anyway, you know. That’s life—it’s not really something you can avoid.”
Albedo finally looks away, frowning into the fires that burn at the entrance to the cave. “I don’t take life advice from people who’ve tried to kill me.”
Joserf pouts, the thoughtfulness of a moment ago melting like frost under the sun. “Aww, but I’ve turned over a new leaf, haven’t I? I’m a family man now. I make snowmen with my son.”
Despite himself, Albedo smiles at the absurdity. “Get lost.”
Joserf grins and hops off the crafting table. “Wanna know the difference between you and me, Albedo?”
Albedo frowns. “No.”
“You give up too easy. I don’t.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Joserf saunters out of the cave. “Seeya.”
“Joserf,” Albedo calls after him. “What is that supposed to mean? Joserf!”
But he receives no answer save the echo of his own voice.
“And then Paimon said, 'You’d better watch out, Tone-Deaf Bard, before Paimon eats all your apples!'” Paimon punctuates her story with a flap of her arm that almost sends her face-first into a tree.
“Mm-hm,” Lumine says encouragingly, only half-listening. Most of her attention is fixed on picking her way through the freshly fallen snow and trying not to sink too deeply into the drifts.
Paimon dodges the tree and continues. “And then, Venti said–”
“Traveler!”
The call rings out from the top of a nearby hill. Lumine looks up to see Albedo waving, a mustard-yellow scarf flung around his neck, and feels herself begin to smile. Fondness uncurls in her chest like a cat stretching after a nap.
“Hi, Albedo!” Paimon yells.
Albedo takes a step towards them. But the snow is still loose from last night’s storm—it gives way underfoot and sends him skidding erratically down the hill, limbs flailing.
Lumine gasps and throws her arms out, ready to break his fall, but he catches himself and stumbles to a stop just shy of her. He’s close enough that she could reach out and tuck her fingers into his scarf.
“Hi,” he says. A smile hovers at the corner of his mouth.
Paimon squeaks indignantly. “You ought to be more careful!”
“Sorry,” he says. “I was distracted.”
“By what?” Lumine asks.
He gives her a sheepish smile. “Too excited to see you, I suppose.”
“Oh,” Lumine says. Her cheeks feel a little warmer than they did a second ago.
Albedo’s sharp eyes note her reaction, and he seems to come to a decision. “Traveler,” he says. “I know this is sudden, but I was wondering… whether you might want to go out to dinner with me. As in, romantically. On a date.”
There are very few things that surprise Lumine these days. This, apparently, is one of them.
“Oh,” she says again. “I… Albedo, I–”
She doesn’t get to finish her sentence. A rumble deep beneath the earth is all the warning she receives before an isotoma of brilliant gold erupts beneath Albedo’s feet and sends him flying.
“Albedo!” Lumine yells, Anemo flaring in her palm. But he catches himself and draws his sword, launching himself towards his assailant.
There is a breathless moment where she thinks she’s seeing double. Her eyes skitter back and forth between the two silhouettes as she tries to decipher the unfolding scene. There cannot actually be two Albedos exchanging blows in front of her, unless…
She is reminded suddenly of a winter’s day, near this exact spot, when she watched Albedo die. (Not the real Albedo, she knows. Her Albedo is alive and well. Still, that’s not something you forget.) And the scene begins to make sense.
The newcomer locks blades with the first Albedo—the latter laughing maniacally and the former visibly furious.
“How dare you?” demands the newcomer. “You– I– I told you–”
“She was about to say yes!” the first Albedo gasps, breathless with laughter. The scarf around his neck unwinds and flutters into the wind, revealing a pale, unmarked throat. “Another second or two, Albedo! You could have let me finish!”
“You had no right–” Albedo snarls, pressing his blade closer towards the other’s throat.
Lumine’s windblade knocks both the Albedos off balance, sending them tumbling into the snowbanks on opposite sides of the path. She plants herself between them, hands on her hips. “Would someone please explain to me what is going on?”
Albedo opens his mouth to answer, a brilliant red splashed across his cheeks and down into the hollow of his throat.
But Joserf beats him to it. “See, Traveler,” he says lightly, “my brother is really into you.”
Albedo flushes impossibly redder. “Shut up!”
“Absolutely lovesick. It’s painful to watch, honestly.”
“I should have killed you ages ago.”
“But he’s too much of a yellow-bellied coward to act on it,” Joserf says. “So I thought–”
“Please, Traveler,” Albedo cuts in. “Let me shut him up. Please.”
Joserf continues, undeterred. “I thought I’d help my baby brother out a little and ask you out on his behalf.” He drops his voice to a stage whisper, leaning in conspiratorially. “I know he’s a little short, but he can’t really help that. And you might think that there isn’t much room in his head for anything but his experiments, but you occupy more space in there than he’d care to admit. He’d make a halfway decent partner, I think—if he can ever figure out how to look at you without breaking into hives.”
Albedo drops his face into his hands, leaving only the scarlet tips of his ears visible.
Lumine reins in her laughter with some difficulty. “Alright,” she says. “You’ve done enough damage today, Joserf. Go home.”
Joserf morphs back into his usual form, limbs elongating like putty. “Give him a chance, okay?” He stands, grinning ear to ear, and dusts the snow off his pants. “Oh, and Albedo? Don’t screw this up.” He winks and strolls away.
“Paimon,” Lumine says. “Can you make sure he goes home and doesn’t stay to terrorize anyone else?” Paimon salutes and follows after Joserf, hurling nicknames at his back.
Lumine walks over and nudges Albedo. “Come on,” she says. He peers up at her with an aggrieved air, but takes her hand when she offers it and lets her pull him to his feet.
“Sorry about him,” he says, staring fixedly at her left ear. “He’s… he’s…” He sighs deeply, apparently out of words.
“You’re okay?” she asks.
“Fine,” he says shortly. “Just… forget what he said. Please.”
“You don’t want to know what my answer was going to be?”
He finally manages to look her in the eye, his scowl verging on petulant. “I– It’s– It’s a moot point. It’s not like I asked you myself.”
“Okay,” she says. “Ask me, then.”
He frowns. “Why?”
“So I can give you my answer,” she says.
“For the record, this is not how I would have chosen to ask you,” he gripes, then sets his jaw and takes a deep breath. “But although my brother is an asshole and a liar, he did get one thing right. I do like you, Lumine. Would you go out with me?”
Lumine nods. “Yes.”
Albedo blinks. Blinks twice more, for good measure. “Really?”
“Yes,” she says again, and allows herself a smile at the delight blooming on his face. “I would love to go out with you, Albedo.”
“I did not foresee this result,” he says sheepishly. “But I will admit that it is a welcome one.”
“Maybe you should thank your brother, then,” she teases, reaching up to brush the snow from his jacket.
He scowls and catches at her wrist to keep her close. “I draw the line at that.”
Dragonspine never quite reaches a temperature that an outsider might call warm. But look past the forbidding exterior, if you can—and you will find that there are days, like today, when the wind eases and the air warms, and the mountain thaws enough to be almost welcoming.
“Watch your step, Klee,” Albedo calls. Klee turns to pout at him, but slows obligingly and wanders around the bend with Paimon, chattering about fish. Albedo starts to hurry after them, but is tugged back by the hand in his own.
“They can handle themselves,” Lumine says. “Stay and keep me company, Albedo.”
“I should probably ensure Klee doesn’t flatten Dragonspine to sea level,” he objects half-heartedly, but yields anyway and presses their gloved palms together.
“Maybe so,” she concedes. “But I’m glad you’re here with me, instead.”
They lapse into a comfortable silence as they walk, swinging their linked hands between them. Lumine thinks she could get used to this.
The moment is interrupted by a yell from around the corner. “Can Klee run down to the lake and show Paimon the fish?”
“No!” Albedo calls back. “No fish!” He pulls his hand from Lumine’s and shoots her an apologetic look before running ahead.
Lumine watches until he rounds the corner, then glances to the side. “You can come out now, Joserf.”
She hears the slightest of chuckles before Joserf materializes out of nowhere and joins her on the path. “He still hasn’t thanked me for my help, you know. Little ingrate.”
“Thank you, Joserf,” she says.
Surprise flits across his features. “Hm. You’re welcome. At least one of you has manners.” His eyes drop to the path, tracing Klee’s small footprints and Albedo’s larger ones almost wistfully. “Take care of him, will you? He may be a dumbass, but… I suppose I’m a little fond of him.”
“I will,” she promises. “Why’d you help him, anyway? You could have just let him agonize forever.”
He laughs. “As funny as that would have been, I do owe him one—for, you know, not killing me.” He hesitates, turning over his next words on his tongue. “And I guess… what the two of you have… it’s valuable. It’s good. I just hated to see him squander it.”
There is a half-buried melancholy in his voice that prompts Lumine to say, “You and Joel should hang out with us more. We could have a picnic or something.”
Joserf snorts. “I think Albedo would rather die.”
“I think you’d be surprised,” she says.
Joserf is halfway through an eye roll when Klee’s voice carries over to them. “Miss Honorary Knight? Where’d you go?”
She smiles at him. “The offer stands.”
He hesitates, then sighs. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask.” She turns towards Klee’s voice. “Coming!” she yells, and jogs away.
When she glances back at the bend, Joserf is gone.