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Morning, Trousseau. Meet me at the base of Mount Liphia if you're feeling up to it. If you are, could you bring me my bag? I'd rather not go back inside the healing house if I don't have to.
Trousseau was planning on starting this conversation with a strong step forward. Simeon had given him an opening--or, well, Septimus had. Trousseau could start with a comment about the crow diving directly at his face when he'd stepped outside. He planned to start with that. He liked the way that Simeon's lips curled up in surprised delight whenever Trousseau was snarky. It was one of the smiles that actually reached the other man's eyes.
He wanted to see that smile again one more time before Simeon left Healeaks for gods knew how long.
Yet as soon as he saw Simeon staring up at the mountain, white hair gleaming in the moonlight, all of his words dried up in his throat. He had to pause for a moment and regather himself entirely. There were too many feelings here and he couldn't grasp any of them. It was a flood.
He didn't want to have this conversation. He didn't want to be standing here with Simeon's bag slung over one shoulder and his note in his hands.
He didn't want to say goodbye.
Septimus bent over so that he could look at Trousseau. Trousseau sighed and lifted an arm. "Up," he told Septimus, figuring that he could at least attempt to get the crow out of his hair. Septimus stepped onto his arm, much to his surprise, until he saw the bird try to grab the note in his hand. Oh, that made sense. He had seen Simeon training Septimus to grab paper ever since he had found the crow.
He lowered his arm and looked up to see that Simeon had turned around. Simeon smiled at him as soon as their eyes met. and he walked away from the mountain's base over to Trousseau. "I see he got the note to you. I'm glad he understood."
"He's very smart," Trousseau replied as he held up his arm to Simeon.
Simeon lifted his own arm and clicked his tongue. Septimus immediately hopped onto the offered arm, and Simeon gently stroked the crow's head before turning back to Trousseau. "We never did get around to stargazing at the top of the mountain."
"Y-yeah." Trousseau glanced up at Mount Liphia. "There haven't been a lot of good nights for it... at least, not since your wound healed enough for a hike like that."
"No," Simeon agreed, his gaze and tone distant as he looked towards the mountain as well. He was quiet for a moment before he held out a hand for his bag.
Trousseau resisted the childish urge to tightly hold on to the bag. It wasn't like holding it hostage would change the situation. At best, it would make Simeon smile. At worst, it would annoy the other man. Trousseau wasn't going to risk souring their last morning together until who knew when, so he handed over the bag. "So why did you call me over here? It's a little late... well... early for stargazing."
"You're right. I don't think that we'll be able to make it all the way to the top of the mountain to watch the sunrise either." Simeon slung his bag over one shoulder before lifting Septimus up to the same shoulder. The bird stepped off of his arm and settled himself on the strap of the bag. "There is, however, a ledge about a quarter of the way up that we should be able to get to in time if we start walking now. Right..." he raised a hand, and then pointed, "there."
Trousseau squinted in that direction, but he couldn't quite see what Simeon was talking about. He'd have to take the other man's word for it. "Well, what are we waiting for, then?"
Simeon smiled, and the two of them began walking on the path that led up the mountain. "Thank you for humoring me."
"It's not just... humoring you," Trousseau replied. "This is your last morning in Healeaks, and you've been fascinated with Mount Liphia since the first time you saw it. It would be silly for you to leave without ever setting foot on it, and... and I want to be here with you."
Simeon's pleased smile reached his eyes now, and Trousseau turned away to hide his blush. His feelings meant nothing. He had known Simeon for less than two months. As soon as the man left Healeaks and found other people he liked, he would forget about Trousseau. Septimus would stop bringing him letters eventually. If the crow ever came back with letters at all.
Simeon reached out and caught Trousseau's wrist. "Watch out for the rocks."
Trousseau's face was so hot that it was a miracle his hair hadn’t caught fire. He wished that Simeon's cold hand was on his face--NO. Nope. Slamming the door on that thought! "R-right."
Simeon didn't let go, though he did slide his hand down around Trousseau's palm instead. Trousseau swallowed, returned the grip, and forced his legs to keep moving. Simeon pointed out hazards in their path, and Trousseau guided them up towards the ledge that Simeon had seen from the base. It wasn't too far off of the beaten path, and they managed to avoid the monsters on their way up. Simeon was incredibly perceptive even in the dim lighting they were working with.
...He always had been. He was very good at not allowing people to sneak up on him in the dark.
Trousseau wasn't great at seeing in dim light like the other man was, but he could hear. He could probably help with avoiding hazards if he weren't hopelessly distracted by the fact that they were holding hands. Maybe this was the real reason the others wanted Simeon to leave. Trousseau knew the other man was a distraction for him. A big one.
This wasn't the first time their hands had touched, but it was the longest time that Simeon had ever held his hand. This couldn't be tactical. Trousseau knew the basics of how to defend himself with a knife now. He really only needed one hand to do it, but he'd prefer to have two--especially against monsters. The thought of fighting a monster within the close distance a dagger required was... interesting. Terrifying, too.
"I don't think anything will bother to follow us," Simeon commented once they had circled around part of the mountain and ducked under an outcropping. They weren't very far up the mountain, but the height was still dizzying. Trousseau's hand tightened around Simeon's despite himself. "You said that wasps' nest is on the other side of the mountain. We might get a curious bat, but I can handle that with no issues."
"I know." They stepped onto the ledge. There was enough room for them to comfortably sit down. Trousseau didn't let go of Simeon's hand until they were both seated. "I just worry."
"I know." A hint of amusement entered Simeon's tone as he took his hand back. "Worry will keep you alive when you're alone, but you're with me right now. I know you've only seen me training in combat, but I'm confident that I'll be able to protect you if anything comes."
"I d-don't doubt that. Really," Trousseau assured him. Simeon's magic alone was terrifying. He had also managed to teach Trousseau how to actually, somewhat competently, defend himself. If he could teach Trousseau to fight, that meant he was incredibly skilled.
Simeon smiled at him again, the expression slight but genuine. He turned towards the light beginning to creep over the horizon, so Trousseau did the same. "We made it up here just in time."
Trousseau had seen a lot of sunrises, with the amount of all-nighters that he pulled. It had been a long time since he had paid attention to one, though. His acknowledgement of them was usually relief that light had come so that he could see.
This one felt different. Sunlight crept over the mountains and swept down towards the valley. Trousseau watched as it slowly washed across the land and looked up at the sky as it began to flood with color. Pinks, purples, oranges...
"I can see what you meant when you said that sunrises are beautiful in the mountains," he commented softly. "It would be more stunning if we were at the top."
"It would be," Simeon confirmed. Trousseau looked over to see him staring at the sky. His eyes, usually so untouched by everything, reflected the colors of the sunrise. He seemed genuinely relaxed for once. "I still want to see it from that view, but it will have to wait until after I return."
His words about his return were said with the same sort of certainty that Simeon always had with one of his decisions. Certainty that Trousseau would never have. Malaya and the others wouldn't be happy to see Simeon come back here, and Trousseau didn't want to be trouble for him. Simeon would eventually realize that Trousseau wasn't worth any trouble at all, and he'd have no reason to come back to this tiny town.
Septimus had moved over to the shoulder closest to Trousseau. Trousseau let the bird hop down onto his lap and began gently stroking his feathers before looking up at the sky again. "I'm sure you'll find much more impressive mountaintops to watch the sunrise from in the Crestlands."
"I'm sure I will too. I'm looking forward to traveling there eventually," Simeon replied. "I don't believe it will be quite the same experience as the sunrises I'm used to, though."
"Makes sense. The Crestlands aren't exactly home."
"It would be nearly impossible to recreate that feeling exactly. I don't expect to find it again."
Trousseau frowned and looked back at the other man. His questions about Simeon eventually finding his way back to Orsterra died on his lips when he saw Simeon looking directly at him. Simeon smiled as soon as their eyes met, and he reached out to brush Trousseau's hair away from his face.
His touch was still cold. Trousseau's face was hot again. Simeon's fingertips lingered on his cheek. "Y-you d-don't sound too upset about not f-finding it again," Trousseau managed to choke out. The air was way too charged right now.
Simeon took his hand back. The air between them eased a bit. Trousseau wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.
"I've already found a similar feeling," Simeon told him, still smiling, "in you."
"...Really?" Trousseau squeaked so that the Dohter preserve me racing through his mind wouldn't come out of his mouth.
"Yes, though the feeling took awhile to evolve." Simeon looked up towards Trousseau's hair. "The colors of the dawn here in the Brightlands are a lot more saturated than the pale colors I was used to in Everhold." Trousseau blinked. Simeon had never said the name of his home before, he'd just referenced that it was in the mountains of Orsterra. "When I watched the sun rise over the mountains, the first signs of it were the pale pink clouds." Simeon's eyes flicked down to meet Trousseau's again. "Your hair was the first real reminder of home that I received since landing in Solistia."
Trousseau glanced away, towards the sunrise. That explained a lot about their first meeting. Simeon had always liked him more than Castti, even if that was... weird. Simeon liking him more than Castti was very weird, but Trousseau couldn't deny the facts of the situation. "...M-meeting the person attached t-to a reminder like that m-must have been... interesting?"
"Very," Simeon agreed. "I thought at first that I would be able to separate the thought of you with the thought of dawn and home. You just had a similar appearance to the clouds I loved, after all. That hasn't been the case."
Trousseau looked back at him incredulously. Simeon's smile was gone, exchanged for a dead serious expression. Trousseau was glad that his hands were busy with petting Septimus. He didn't trust himself to do anything else right now.
"As we've spoken and interacted, I continued to associate you with light," Simeon went on. "You may have reminded me of dawn by appearance only at first, but your kindness and guidance while I have been here have only strengthened the comparison." He placed his hand on Trousseau's arm. "If you had not been there to tend my wounds, to learn the old lullaby from my home or to let me talk about..." he paused for a moment, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again and continuing, "about Mattias, my mind would still be swimming in darkness. You are my sunrise."
Trousseau's breath stuttered in his throat. Septimus reached up to tug on Simeon's sleeve, drawing the other man's attention and sparing Trousseau from his gaze. It gave Trousseau a moment to recover. "I'm... honored," he told Simeon through the lump in his throat. "Truly. I hope..." He didn't, he was lying and he was awful for it-- "I hope you can find more people who make you feel that way."
"I sincerely doubt I will." Simeon picked up Septimus. The crow squawked in protest but settled down when Simeon set him on his lap. "Either way, we'll be able to keep in touch. I am going to miss you while traveling, but the letters should make the distance bearable at least."
"...Right." Trousseau looked up at the sunrise. He was never going to be able to work during it the same way again. "I'm s-sorry you have to leave."
"You shouldn't apologize for what is not your fault." Simeon lifted Septimus up to his shoulder and took Trousseau's hand again. If Trousseau's face were not already beet red, it would be going that way again. "Even if no one else will."
Malaya and Castti wouldn't, no. Trousseau wasn't sure about the others. "You deserve an apology."
"I'd rather you came with me than apologized," Simeon sighed, leading the way down the path. Trousseau's heart jumped into his throat. "But I can't ask you to do that. I understand their concern."
"Just because you've hurt people in the p-past doesn't mean that you're untrustworthy," Trousseau protested after a nervous swallow. "I don't understand why M-Malaya is so worried. We've treated thieves before. Soldiers. So many people with death in their pasts."
"And she allowed you to finish treating me, which I'm grateful for," Simeon pointed out. "My wound is healed. It's our friendship she disagrees with."
She shouldn't be able to decide that. Trousseau was a grown man. He could make his own decisions regarding who he was friends with. Castti hadn't minded Simeon's presence until the others returned. While Malaya was easier to talk to for Trousseau than Castti was, he didn't understand what she was so... scared of. "If you wanted to hurt us or anyone else in the village, you've had a million chances to do it," he muttered. "I've told her that."
"I've heard some of the arguments." Trousseau winced at the dry amusement in Simeon's tone and the words themselves. "The village is small and the walls are thin. I know she thinks of me as poison."
"It's not fair."
"I appreciate you defending me. Truly." Simeon gently squeezed Trousseau's hand. "I know that your life here is important to you. I don't want to uproot you while everyone's feelings are so... volatile."
"You haven't argued with her much."
"I want to stay near you." Simeon's voice grew quieter, and he looked down at the path as his hand tightened around Trousseau's again, his touch suddenly cold enough to bite. Septimus took off into the air, evidently uncomfortable with the sudden shift in tension. "I don't believe arguing with your friends is the best way to successfully go about that."
...He was angrier about this than he had been letting on. Trousseau wasn't sure if he felt devastated or elated at that revelation. Whatever he was feeling was something nauseating.
The distance would be good for them, he desperately reminded himself as they continued down the path. He and Simeon had agreed about that enough that Simeon was leaving. Trousseau could have time to sort out his feelings and try to forget, and Simeon would...
Would Simeon forget? To hope for anything else was stupid. Trousseau knew there was something better out there in Solistia for the other man. He should be hoping that Simeon found someone or something better out there. He was selfish not to. Simeon had given him enough. He had given Trousseau so many memories that helped him get through the day. He had learned so many skills and stories from Simeon in the short time that the other man had been in his life. Trousseau could count him among his successful patients, living proof that he was helping people and wasn't a waste of space. All of that should be more than enough. Anything else was selfish.
Healeaks was too small and simple for someone like Simeon. Trousseau was too small and simple for someone like Simeon.
Simeon's touch was no longer biting. Trousseau wished it still was. It reminded him of how the snow in Winterbloom stung his skin while he was growing up.
Simeon was not home. He couldn't be. Just like Trousseau couldn't be home for him. Believing differently would just hurt both of them in the long run.
They stepped into the village. Simeon slipped his hand out of Trousseau's. Trousseau let him. He doubted the others were out and about yet with as early as it was. They had all been asleep when he'd left, but the chances of them being awake at dawn were never zero.
"Y-you said you were going to the other continent first," Trousseau commented.
"Yes." Simeon looked and sounded calmer now. "I want to see what is in the west. It sounds interesting." He looked back at Trousseau and smiled. The smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'll send you a letter once I'm on the ship."
"P-please be careful going through New Delsta. The Blacksnakes might remember you."
"The anchorage is, thankfully, on the outskirts. I'll be careful, but I shouldn't draw too much attention when the Blacksnakes generally operate within the heart of the city."
"That's... that's a relief," Trousseau admitted, shoulders slumping. "If they haven't changed their patterns since we left."
Simeon chuckled softly, and Trousseau glanced up to see that his smile was more genuine now. "I will be careful. I learned my lesson during my last run-in with them."
"I d-don't know." Trousseau offered him a shy smile. "You're pretty bad at learning when it comes to injuries."
"Injury recovery," Simeon refuted. That delighted smile that Trousseau had wanted to see was on his face now. Something tight in Trousseau's chest eased upon seeing it. "I am quite good at learning how to avoid injuries. Particularly ones as bad as what you treated."
"Fine. I believe you," Trousseau huffed.
"Good," Simeon gave a solemn nod that was ruined by the fact that he was still smiling. "I expect you to keep up with your dagger practice. I want you to avoid injury as well."
"I will," Trousseau promised. "I have the drills memorized by now, and Andy has promised to spar with me while you're gone."
"That's acceptable."
They passed by the healing house, and both of them grew quiet. Simeon's smile was gone now. He gave the house and its darkened windows a cool once over before he turned away. They walked the rest of the distance to the edge of the village in silence.
Going with him was a bad idea. Trousseau knew this. Knowing that didn't stop the finality of Simeon leaving from hitting him like one of Jeyah's hooves in his stomach once they stepped onto the border. There was nothing out there but the roads of the Brightlands.
"I should leave before they decide to have another conversation with me," Simeon said after a long moment.
"That's a good idea."
Neither of them moved another step. They looked at each other. Simeon seemed to be searching for something in Trousseau's expression, but Trousseau had no idea what. A traitorous part of him whispered ridiculous requests. He couldn't leave. He still had cures and medicine to learn from Eir's Apothecaries.
He still wanted Simeon to ask him to come with him. Or kiss him goodbye. He hated himself for it. Simeon would find someone better out there. Trousseau needed to deal with it.
Simeon's expression softened, and he placed a hand on Trousseau's shoulder. Trousseau tilted his head so that his cheek was resting on the hand, despite himself.
"I'll return," Simeon promised. "I don't know when. But I will make my way back to this town, and then we will talk about what comes next." He squeezed Trousseau's shoulder, and Trousseau lifted his head. "Until that time, we'll speak in ink."
"Right. Take care, Simeon."
"You too, Trousseau."
He lifted his hand, turned, and began walking down the path. Trousseau watched him, not daring to step over the line. He didn't trust himself to run after Simeon.
Simeon didn't turn around once, not even when he lifted his arm for Septimus to land on again. Trousseau could hear the soft notes of the lullaby that he'd memorized winding their way through the wind back to him. A song that Simeon would have to sing to himself again for the time being, as a form of self-soothing. Trousseau hadn't heard him singing to himself in weeks.
Trousseau waited until Simeon was nothing more but a speck on the horizon before he finally let his shaking knees give out. Tears had been streaming down his face for far longer than that, and his upper arms were sore from how hard his hands had been clenched on them.
He knelt on the road, slowly breathing in and out. Hope was essential in an apothecary's line of work. It was essential for Trousseau even if it hurt. Gods, it hurt.
He would see where the road took Simeon. While he did that... while he waited... he would pour himself into his work. He wouldn't burn his bridges with Eir's. Trousseau was sure that with time, and if Simeon still insisted on returning, he could convince the others to accept the other man's presence. His entire future, their entire future, was not this goodbye.
This goodbye, this moment in the dirt of a town that no longer felt like home, still hurt.