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starryserenade · 11 months

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Myth and Magic Ch. 17: Echoes

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: The mice find themselves in Tir na Nog through no choice of their own. As new perspectives are uncovered and new magic explored, new tensions start to flare as well.

Links:

AO3

Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter: Coming Soon

She was furious, more than he’d ever known her to be. He could feel it before he even entered the palace, its rotting wood and withered leaves darker than they’d been when he’d left. There was an aura of darkness that surrounded the ballroom, and an overwhelming pressure as if some great power was about to snap.

He tread lightly, but proudly, his head held high as he strolled towards the throne room, knowing full well who’d be waiting for him there. He’d had about enough of that witch and her temper, and all those promises that never seemed to be fulfilled. Perhaps he’d finally tell her off this time, finally demand she keep her promise…

The doors swung open at his touch, and he found more than one figure standing before him. Magica was there in the shadowy form she so often donned, and the wicked look on her face smothered all his courage. Beside her, two Sidhe held a sopping wet Mortimer who spat and cursed at them to no avail. Oswald would have laughed at that, under normal circumstances, but he had a nagging feeling that now was not the time.

Magica grinned through the shadow of her wispy facade, a horrible smile that worsened the silent fury blazing behind her eyes. But Oswald pretended he didn’t notice, only approached as usual and cast an unimpressed glance at the half-drowned rat before him, before looking back to her.

The witch laughed and looked sharply at Mortimer. “Look who’s arrived! Care to tell him about your recent endeavor?”

Mortimer scowled, and Oswald nearly chuckled, realizing Magica’s rage was fully directed in the mortal king’s direction. He’d done something incredibly stupid, no doubt, which really came as no surprise. The only thing that was surprising was how long it took Magica to notice his ineptitude. Oh well, better late than never.

“What happened?” This was petty, and Oswald knew it, but he couldn’t resist. “Go for a swim?”

The loathing in Mortimer’s eyes was incomparable, and hilarious, as the rat grumbled some words Oswald couldn’t understand.

“Our precious king here,” Magica seethed, still through that horrifying grin, “let our princess get away again. Not once, but twice. ”

Mortimer wrenched his wrists away from the Sidhe. “I would’ve had them,” he spat in Magica’s direction. “If your little monsters hadn’t gotten in my way!”

At once, the shadow encompassing Magica’s form flared and dispersed into a lofty stormcloud of smoke, looming over Mortimer who cowered almost immediately. “You WASTED the most powerful spell I’d granted you for sheer PRIDE!” She screeched, her voice like no creature Oswald had ever heard. “That gem in that crown held ONE spell,” The cloud was sporadic, shifting and flashing madly. “ONE! And you used it to defy ME.”

It finally settled back into her form as she composed herself, though the storm remained flashing within. “And now my best Sidhe has vanished.” Her voice had grown darker, more deadly. “But still you claim ignorance.” With a final furious whirl, she whipped around to face him. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t strip you of every ounce of power here and now.”

Mortimer turned a ghostly white and swallowed. “You need me.”

She laughed again, and the sound sent chills up Oswald’s spine. “I hardly need two of you.”

Oswald drew in a sharp breath as Magica approached him, her misty hand tracing his chin as he stared straight ahead. The feeling was ice cold, like death itself had just touched him. “I’ve got a loyal soldier right here. Isn’t that right?”

He didn’t like this one bit, not at all. But he nodded stiffly, though his fur rose on end. “Y-yes, Your Majesty.”

“That’s what I th-”

“TH-THE FAERIE PRINCE IS ALIVE!” Mortimer burst out at once, and all the strength left Oswald’s bones. Magica was still just beside him, but she froze, and slowly turned her head.

“What…did you…say…”

Mortimer stared at Oswald, a subtle smirk lighting his face as the rabbit’s eyes widened. He shook his head faintly, and his nose twitched. How did Mortimer know? The glamour over Mickey should have been foolproof–Oswald’s own magic (well, borrowed magic) kept it alive, kept the mouse hidden and unrecognizable from everyone , even other fae. Unless..? His fingertips brushed against the orb in his cloak, and he reached out with his mind, tried to sense the magic he’d been lending. But he couldn’t. It was gone, as if something had severed the connection. Shoot! He’d gotten complacent, lazy even, and he’d missed that somehow. It meant only one thing–that Mickey was out there, wings and all clear as day. There was no arguing this, or hiding him further if Mortimer continued. Magica would know. She always knew. Don’t ! Oswald commanded silently, with nothing but a desperate glare shot Mortimer’s way. But there was no stopping him now. If there was one thing you couldn’t do with that rat, it was trust him. This would serve him quite well, so he was bound to take advantage of it. Oswald’s foot thumped tapped lightly against the earth, a nervous habit he’d never really been able to break.

“That’s right,” he continued, the smirk on his face widening. It was nice enough that this little tidbit might be enough to save his life, but that it would ruin Oswald’s standing with the queen? Even better. “The other prince. The one Oswald swore he got rid of? He’s not gone at all. Remember that little mouse who’s been running around with the princess? Saw it myself. Sprouted wings right in front of me. Big ones. Royal ones. Didn’t seem to understand it either…which means someone else had cast a glamour on him. Take a guess who that was.”

Magica’s eyes had fallen back to Oswald, and they were blazing furiously, even more than they had when she’d first accused Mortimer. He took a step back and swallowed. The smell of rotting wood flooded his nostrils, as if the tree itself was bent on reminding him who was responsible for all this. But it wasn’t him, he argued furiously in his mind. It wasn’t his fault. Even so, his eyes fell to the throne where this had started. Really started. And he saw himself there below it, looking up at a king who refused to listen.

“Mac Lir’s kelpies…they took her! You have to help, please!”

“Nonsense m’boy,” The royal had taken another sip of wine. “There are no tragedies here.”

“You’re wrong!” Oswald had hissed, and he’d balled up his fists and broken free from the grip of the guards. “You’re wrong, and mother would have known better.”

And the king’s eyes, all clouded with falsities, had cleared for a moment. Just a moment. And Oswald took it to plead his case.

“You told me once, it was the dragons’ fault she’s gone. That they’d tricked you. Please… please don’t let them take ‘Tensie from me too. You can stop this. Make them give her back to me! Just talk to them, there has to be a reason they’re doing this!”

There were legends that a dragon’s magic could blur the lines between life and death, guide lost souls back to the waking world. If they hurried, there might still be time to convince them. He could save her. He could bring her back.

The king was silent. For the first time in ages, there was no lofty smile upon his lips. It looked as though he might have responded thoughtfully, if he’d had even a moment more of clarity. But then the cloudy look in his eyes returned, and he chuckled loudly. “The dragons have long since been banished, and they can do us no harm. Forget about your silly mortal, child! Eat, drink, and be merry as the rest of us are!”

Something had snapped in Oswald then. There’d been a fiery thread of goodness in him that had outlasted that of his peers, something kept alive by love, and by hope. It flickered out in that moment. Or quite nearly, at least, if there was even an ember of faith left there. In the dark chasm that remained, a seed of hatred and distrust took root.

He’d stormed out of the throne room, feathers flying around him in a dark whirlwind. There were other ways of getting help. Deep threads of magic no one had dared touch in centuries. If his own father wouldn’t listen, he’d find his own way of doing things. He blinked, and found himself back in the present, Magica’s venomous glare closer than it had been before.

“We had a deal… ” she hissed, a quivering whisper that thrummed against his ears.

How could he have known back then, what she would have demanded of him? He had no qualms with standing up to those dragons, and his magic had been a sacrifice he was willing to make. But that the little child he’d protected for so long would be the one he’d be asked to dispose of? Of course he hadn’t. He couldn’t. His rage had blinded him but even then, his love for his brother was something he hadn’t been able to overcome. So he’d found a way around it. Erased him from existence as much as anyone would ever know and, so he’d thought, simply given him a new lease on life.

Stupid. He’d been stupid. Ignorant and selfish, as much as his father had been. And he wondered now, if he was beginning to understand how one could fall so deep without ever being the wiser.

Magica’s smoke slithered around him. “I should have known you’d lied.”

Abruptly, the mist swept through him and he drew in a sharp breath, shuddering as the intense chill encompassed his body. Those glowing eyes narrowed, and then she darted to Mortimer and gave him the same icy stare. By the time she’d come center, both of them were shivering breathlessly, faces pale with fear.

“You’re both useless, ” she spat. “An idiot and a traitor, that’s all I have to work with.” Her gaze swiveled back to Oswald. “You can forget about your precious sweetheart. Let her rot in Dubnos, for all I care.”

The fear turned to anger and Oswald rushed forward, pulling a sword from its sheath and slashing it through the apparition. It didn’t hurt her–he knew it wouldn’t–but he was filled with a fury beyond all reason and as the mist separated and reformed, Magica’s eyes blazing with shock and indignance, he stood there poised to fight her with whatever he had.

“I did plenty to earn her back!” he growled through bared teeth. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked for for nearly a decade!”

“NOT. EVERYTHING.” Magica approached him again in a flurry of mist and shadow. “ Everything hinges on the fate of those two little mice. The egg’s power is almost gone but for as long as they’re alive, all that we’ve worked for is at risk!”

“He’s my brother, ” Oswald hissed. “He doesn’t even know what he is. He’s no threat.”

“HA!” Magica laughed, and Oswald clenched his fists. “You have no idea who and what I’ve sacrificed to get here. It’s the price you pay for power, dear. You should have known that from the start.”

“I never wanted power-!”

“You wanted your lover back! Guess what that takes?”

Oswald swallowed and looked away.

Magica’s demeanor softened, not in any semblance of comfort or kindness. But that air of manipulation, of selfish ambition, flooded back into her countenance.

“Ah, poor dear…Didn’t quite understand what the price would be, did you? Well…” He shuddered as she slithered around him again, her whispered promises like frost on his ears. “I might be persuaded to give you another chance…unless, of course, you’ve given up on rescuing your little sweetheart…”

A thread of mist snaked around his forehead and without any warning, he found a jumble of memories flooding back into his mind. Memories that had become faded enough to dull the pain of loss, but now returned as strong as if they’d happened yesterday. How could he refuse a chance to bring back those moments, when he remembered every small touch, every glimmer of laughter as clear as day?

“No…” he half-choked through the pressure in his chest. “No, I…of course I haven’t…”

“Then tell me everything you’ve done, and all you know,” Magica whispered through a too-wide grin, and glanced back at Mortimer too, who no longer seemed quite so satisfied with his means of deflection. “Perhaps there’s time to salvage both your efforts yet.”

~~~~

“Min…”

Mickey wasn’t even looking at her when he uttered her name, a cracked sort of whimper. His hand hovered just an inch or so from his neck, like he’d been about to pull it free, but there was nothing there. The look on his face was sheer pain at first, and when his eyes finally found her, her heart nearly broke. She knew then he’d seen it too. Or…or more than seen it, maybe, because he was panting for air like he’d been robbed of it just moments prior.

“Oh…oh, Mickey…” She forgot her own guilt and rushed to check all over his chest and his back for those horrible wounds, and to hold his face in her hands when she found only traces of them. All those tiny scars she’d noticed before, scrawled across his skin and shimmering through his fur, they seemed clear as day now. Remnants of that awful net.

Mickey hardly responded to her touch at first. He was still in a daze, still trying to pinpoint what exactly was reality. Was that…was that a memory? It was so strange, being able to recall himself in a time before that day where he’d woken up all alone. Stranger still, was that…he felt it all. Not just the wounds that sent tremors rippling through his body, but…but…

He heard Minnie’s voice, faintly piercing through the fog, and looked at her. Echoes of pain still shot through his nerves, but her touch made them all meaningless. And he remembered then, as he sunk into her hand, what he’d felt in that moment that must have been so long ago.

There was more sadness there than fear, at first. He’d been meaning to do something–he still couldn’t recall what. But it was important. Important to him at least. Something had happened and he just wanted to help. The sound of the river had filled his ears and he supposed he’d gotten careless, thinking about…about someone, because before he knew it his wings had brushed against something unnatural, seized up at their touch, and his whole body had been snapped into a net of sorts that burned him no matter which way he moved.

He’d struggled as much as he could, but nothing had ever drained him of strength so swiftly as this. With some desperate squirming, he’d managed to pry open a bit of the net and shove his arm through, ripping through some of the rope. Some of it gave way and he thought he was free, but then his ankle had caught and thrown off his balance and in trying to catch himself, his left arm had shot through the now-dangling part of the net and got him more twisted than before. Now his right wing kept him suspended, never having made it through the gap, and a fraying bit of iron-thread rope hung dangerously close to his neck. He hadn’t noticed that, either, and so tried one last time to free himself by thrashing wildly, desperately in the trap’s hold. That was a mistake. Some upper threads snapped so that what still lay connected to the tree acted as a sort of cinch, and pulled the net so tight around him that he let out one final gasp of pain and found he could no longer breathe. His chest was wrapped too tight and his throat was bound, slowly being pierced by that stray thread. Some small creatures–his mind was too hazy now to see them clearly–had tried to free him at some point, but to no avail. They seemed just as helpless to the rope’s venomous powers as he had been.

His vision had started to slip and then he’d heard her, voice riddled with a heartache and desperation that made a sense of duty flood his bones all over again, even if he could do nothing with it.

“Geal!” It sounded like she’d been crying. “Geal, please, I…I need you!”

He knew that name. How did he know that name? And why did he try to respond to it, almost instinctively, when it reached his ears? Of course, that hadn’t worked. No sound escaped him when he opened his mouth, save for a pained sort of wheezing.

But it didn’t matter anyways, because then she was there. Minnie. Both the Mickey of the past and the Mickey of the present, consciousness strangely split between the two, marveled at her despite their pain. She entered through a gap in the brush, bathed in a patch of moonlight that shone through from above. His vision was blurred and his strength nearly gone, but still he lifted his head to see her. Even with her face all streaked by tears, she was lovely. Angelic, even.

He thought to apologize, as his vision started to fade, for not being able to do whatever it was he’d been trying to do, because he was certain now it had been for her. It had to be.

She gasped lightly at the sight of him and then pulled something from her side, a jeweled blade, and narrowed her eyes. He hung his head, unable to hold it up any longer. Thoughts themselves were quickly fading, but the essence of them remained. He knew only he wasn’t afraid. Not of her nor of the dagger she held. His body shuddered. He felt cold metal pressed against his wing, and then a wonderful sense of relief as the ropes gave way.

Back on the riverbank, nuzzled against Minnie’s hand, he smiled inexplicably. Minnie seemed as worried as ever, and pressed in close.

“Mickey?”

He grinned and echoed her cradled hands with his own to her cheeks. His eyes shone brightly as they stared back at her, unphased by pain, invigorated by the revelation flowing through his mind. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant first memory to recover, and yet to him it was the most wonderful of all, because it meant one thing.

“I knew you,” he whispered and let out an almost frenzied sort of laugh before leaping up, and half-twirling around the riverbank. His wings moved along with his excitement, carrying him a few inches off the grand in little flutters of joy. Fireflies, or some fae equivalent, fluttered about his heels. “I…I knew ya, and I…I wasn’t scared or nothin’. And Min!” He made his way back to her and drew her to her feet, taking her hands in his fingers and giving them a flurry of playful little kisses while she stood there, trying to decide whether she should be giddy or overwhelmed. What resulted was something between the two, with a shaky sort of smile gracing her lips as she held his gaze. “Min, you saved me.”

The smile faltered then. “Wh-what?” she breathed. “Oh, Mickey…I…that’s not what I…well…did I..?”

Noticing her uncertainty, he let the excitement soften into something more gentle, and took her in close. Gosh, was she pretty, the way she looked up at him with those deep, curious eyes. He’d been so caught up in his own self-loathing that he’d nearly forgotten the feeling, like he wanted to laugh and cry all at once. But if he knew her all that time ago…if he’d cared about her even then, and if she’d saved his life so willingly, then her visions had to be wrong. At least, as far as he figured. Maybe he was wrong, but even the possibility of the former was all he needed to spark a bit of life back into his heart.

Though he didn’t know it, the light in his wings grew a bit brighter.

“Don’t ya see?” Mickey breathed, and he drew a hand across her cheek. Strangely, her whole countenance brightened, too, and she flushed a brilliant shade of crimson. “You cut me outta that net, Minnie. If y’cared enough to save me then, and if I…well, if I felt what I think I felt…then we can’t have been enemies.”

Her eyes widened a bit and then darted off to the side like she was thinking it through. “Oh, Mickey…do you think…but then how..?” She drew back and scanned his face, lips pursed in deep concentration.

Though they’d seen the same thing, she’d not felt this memory in the same way he had. But … it was his memory, not hers, and whatever doubts she might have had over his words were utterly destroyed by the sheer joy painted across his whole face, undeniably honest and pure. It melted her heart, the way he looked at her now, even after his eyes had been flooded with pain only moments ago.

I knew you.

That felt true to her, too, and right beyond all else. She’d been so scared of the future that she’d neglected her past, shutting it out for fear it might tarnish whatever possibilities they might have together. So scared he wouldn’t fit the puzzle in the way she’d hoped he might. Now she wondered if he really was the very piece she’d been looking for all along. All that time spent alone in those icy depths, pining for someone to warm her heart back to life…he’d done that, hadn’t he? She’d been looking for familiarity and thought it lacking, but she felt it now, something deeper than she could have ever seen on the surface. This new spark in his eyes felt like home. It felt like hope.

I know you, too.

Minnie thought it, but didn’t say it out loud – still felt like that was something that should be saved for a moment when she could explain just how and why.

She became acutely aware of the bell in her pocket, somehow still there despite her change in dress. It prickled with a strange energy, and she thought back to the rabbit who’d given it to her. He had answers, or so he claimed. Falsehoods or otherwise, she felt at once that Mickey should know.

Fumbling with the right words to say, Minnie parted her lips to try to explain what had happened in the time they’d been apart. Then a branch snapped behind them, and both mice jumped, blushing a bit guiltily because each really had pressed quite close to the other. They parted now, relinquishing their touch just enough to seem decent, though Mickey never truly let her go. He kept a hand to her all the while but made his way in front of her to face the noise and took a stance like he was ready to fight a giant should it emerge from the trees.

It was not a giant, not by any means, and Minnie snorted, holding back a flurry of giggles as the figure in question emerged from the foliage. Mickey let out a sigh of relief, a breath he’d been holding, and smiled as he knelt to the ground.

“Max, buddy,” he chuckled softly at the little boy who stood yawning in front of them, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “What are ya doin’ awake, pal?”

“Caaaan’t…” he smacked his lips together and yawned. “Can’t…sleeeep…”

The two mice exchanged an amused glance. These were the machinations of a curious child who didn’t want to sleep. Though neither of them could really blame him, because here they were at heaven-knew-what hour chatting away. Seemed like a poor example to send him back to bed in that regard.

“New world, hm?” Minnie whispered, coming up beside Mickey. There was a playful, friendly lilt to her voice, and Max grinned as she spoke. “It’s terribly exciting, isn’t it? Just makes you want to stay up all night long I bet.”

Max’s eyes brightened and he nodded, those two little front teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “Papa says we’re in a alter-rit dime-nention!” Minnie laughed softly at that and held out her hands for him to grab onto.

“Well, here,” she giggled, taking him by the hand and guiding him to where they’d been sitting before. The willow hung above them and the child scrambled over its roots, slipping all over the moss and grass as he came to sit beside Minnie, his little feet dangling out over the river. Mickey had followed them over and sat on his other side, making sure Max was tucked snuggly between the two of them. “Mickey can’t seem to sleep either…” Minnie continued, and a look of playful indignance crossed Mickey’s face. He flicked her gently with his tail, but she caught it with her own and left him blushing like a fool when she’d tangled them up together behind their backs. “...so I was just about to tell him a story.”

“Ohhh, were ya?” Mickey chuckled, a light little smirk across his face.

“A story!” Max exclaimed. “What kinda story?”

“Yea, what kinda story, raindrop?”

“Well, a fairytale, o’course,” Minnie answered in a gentle hush of a whisper. “Now, do you boys want to hear it or..?”

Max was loudly hushing Mickey before she’d even finished the sentence, which only made it harder for the mouse to quiet his laughter. When Minnie shot him a glance, her lips turned up in a humorous grin, but stern nonetheless, he finally drew in a few breaths and shook his head.

“‘Course! ‘Course…” he nodded, placing his hands in his lap, a too-serious look plastered across his face. His eyes still twinkled with humor.

Minnie kept a wary eye on him, anyway.

“There was once upon a time, long ago…”

And Mickey was snickering all over again.

“All right, then,” Minnie huffed, raising an eyebrow as she glanced his way. Max mirrored the face she gave him. “Mickey, you tell the story.”

He stopped snickering, and the look he gave her made her realize at once that she’d made a mistake. “Gosh, me?” he smirked, and ruffled his feathers behind him. “Well, if I have to.”

“Now, hold on-!”

“ There was, once upon a time not-so long ago,” he began in a voice that echoed her own introduction, that smirk still hovering on his lips. “A beauuuuutiful princess. The most beautiful princess y’ever did saw. In fact, she was so pretty that everyone who saw her couldn’t help but look ‘er way. An’ her name was Min-”

Minnie jerked her tail, which jerked Mickey, who yelped and drew it back into his hands, rubbing it tenderly. “Hey!”

Max groaned miserably and fell backwards into the grass. “Your stories are awful .”

“Mickey Mouse, I’m thrilled you’ve gotten your smile back, but if you can’t take this seriously then you can march yourself right back to camp!”

“I was here first! ”

Minnie wrinkled her nose and stared at him, and he did the same in playful mockery. But then the fierceness of her scowl won him over and he gave in, rolling his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “All right, fine!” he sulked. “How about we share? ”

She thought that over for a few moments, pursing her lips as she glared at him, wondering how he might plan to sabotage this (and really, there were a good many ways he could). Then Max threw up his hands and let out a puff of frustration. “I. want. a. story!’

Minnie sighed, and Mickey grinned.

“All right…” she groaned. “You can start it out. But no shenanigans this time.”

Mickey rolled his eyes but nodded briskly. “If y’say so.” Then he cleared his throat.

“There was, once upon a time long ago, a really (really) pretty princess...” he started, and though Minnie watched him closely, she didn’t object. “...that lived in a…in a castle on a beautiful lake. Her name was…er…”

“ Sulis ,” Minnie finished for him, offering up a name from another story she'd once heard told. Mickey's eyes darted over to her. He’d calmed himself more now, and his tail had found hers again, so they wrapped around each other in a tiny thread of comfort. Max was starting to settle in for a listen, and had drawn himself up to sit so he could watch them weave their tale. Minnie hesitated, unsure if she wanted to continue with the words in her head. Mickey would know, of course, the half-truth to the tale, and even now he’d already set it up for her. With a breath, she carried on.

“ ...and she was due to take the throne. Due to be wed to her true love, and become queen.” She saw Mickey’s eyes widen, and watched him carefully. He didn't know everything about her story. “ But on the day of the wedding, her love was lost, and she was cursed…cursed to forget his face and his name, and all she’d grown to love him for. And so for many years she waited, until one day she disappeared, and her kingdom fell to ruin.”

She swallowed and nodded Mickey’s way. Max was already growing drowsy again, leaning up against her and blinking with heavy eyelids. Not much longer, and he’d be asleep.

Mickey tapped his fingers against the grass for a second before moving on, voice quieter than before.. “ ...some…well, some people thought she was gone for good. But others said she’d been taken up by the faeries and turned into somethin’ new.”

Max was hardly paying any attention now, so Minnie whispered a humored question Mickey’s way. “Turned into what, exactly?”

He grinned at her, and that sly smile returned. “A…a…a fish, ” he decided at last, and snorted when she laughed. Max stirred, but only slightly. “ But she was the most beautiful fish in allllll the world.”

“Ah, here we go again.”

“And one day, a sad, ol’ fisherman set out t’catch her, on account of her beautiful scales and all.”

“Did he?”

“Not even. Made a whole fool of himself and she had to turn back into a princess just so she could catch him instead. And when she’d rescued him and brought him back to shore…well…”

“...Well..?”

Max had finally fallen asleep, and Mickey drew a wing over him as he leaned against his arm. He tried not to move too much as he spoke.

“Well, I…I dunno,” Mickey chuckled and his cheeks flushed pink. “Haven’t quite figured that out just yet.”

“If you could make up any ending, what would it be?”

Now Mickey was a deep shade of crimson and if Max hadn’t been tucked so comfortably underneath his wing, he would have squirmed nervously under Minnie’s softening gaze.

“I…I s’pose…I’d have the princess find her prince again.” He seemed a little sad when he said that, like he’d just admitted something to himself without realizing he was doing it. But then Minnie reached across to him and set her fingers to his hand.

“What if the fisherman was the prince?” she asked sweetly. “And he just doesn’t know it yet?”

Mickey’s lips parted to respond, but no sound escaped them at first. Then he stammered what he’d consider a pathetic sort of question. “I-is that what you think would happen?”

She scanned him again with those kind, searching eyes, and a soft smile lingering on her lips. Then she let out a delicate laugh, and rose to her feet. “Oh, I suppose only time would tell, either way.” And though Mickey wanted to press her further, he managed to keep from bursting out into a million little questions as he gathered Max back up into his arms and followed Minnie back to camp.

#I felt really good about writing this one #until I didn't lol #but maybe it's just the fatigue talking haha #I should be asleep #byeee #storiescomealive #myth and magic #myth & magic #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #mickey x minnie

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fauxyz · 9 months

Text

every time andrew and neil touch, in order

i wanted to make this list for a while to help me with fic writing, and then once i did, i figured i should share it in case anyone else found it interesting!

for each touch, i've included the book and chapter, a little bit of context, and the quote describing the touch. (a note because this is so long: when the quotes/scenes are long, i cut some pieces out to focus on just the moments where they touch, so these are not always complete quotes.)

first touch moment is below, and the rest are under a cut because this list got LONG. enjoy! :)

1. the foxhole court, chapter 2, when leaving wymack's office to head to the foxhole court for the first time:

"I don't need to be persuasive," Andrew said, putting a hand to Neil's chest as the elevator slowed to a stop. "You'll just learn to do what I say." The doors slid open behind Neil. As soon as they'd parted enough Andrew gave Neil a small push. Neil tripped backward into the lobby. Andrew shoved past him, bumping him from shoulder to hip, and headed for the door.

2. the foxhole court, chapter 3, when andrew sneaks up on neil while neil is looking at the single-stall showers in the locker room:

Lashing out was instinctive, but Andrew caught the elbow Neil would have slammed into his ribs. Andrew laughed and retreated a couple steps.

3. the foxhole court, chapter 7, before leaving for eden's twilight, when andrew sees neil without his contacts:

Neil couldn't leave with Andrew in the way, so he stopped as close to Andrew as he dared and waited for Andrew to move. Andrew did, but only to reach out for Neil with one hand. Neil tensed as Andrew's fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, but Andrew only wanted to pull Neil's head down. Neil focused on Andrew's cheekbone so as not to go cross-eyed and let Andrew study his eyes.

4. the foxhole court, chapter 7, on the way to columbia, when aaron wakes andrew in the backseat:

Andrew's elbow slammed into his diaphragm hard enough to double Neil up over his knees. Aaron, completely unsympathetic, snapped his fingers over Neil's head at Andrew. "Exit," he said. Andrew braced himself on Neil's back and leveraged himself between the front seats.

5. the foxhole court, chapter 7, when neil realizes his drinks were drugged:

Neil lurched to his feet, but Andrew grabbed him by his hair and slammed him back into his seat. A cruel twist pulled his head back at a dangerous angle, and Andrew slammed Neil's hand flat against the tabletop. Neil lifted his other hand to pry Andrew's fingers off, but Nicky caught his wrist. [...] Neil wrenched his hand out from under Andrew's, but Andrew gave his head a warning yank. A bolt of heat went down Neil's neck. Neil hissed in pain and went still. Andrew slid out of his chair and leaned against Neil, letting Neil take his weight while he checked Neil's eyes.

6. the foxhole court, chapter 7, when neil is wandering through the crowd at eden's twilight:

A hand came up against the small of his back and shoved. The push got him free of the crowd and sent him crashing into the back wall.

7. the foxhole court, chapter 8, when neil told andrew the first bit of truth about being nothing and wanting what kevin has:

Andrew reached up and forcibly uncurled Neil's fingers from his mouth. He pushed Neil's hand out of the way and stared Neil down with nothing between them.

8. the foxhole court, chapter 13, after neil protected kevin from riko on kathy's show:

"It's fine, Coach," Andrew said, catching up to them. He touched Neil's back on his way by, fingers light enough to give Neil goose bumps, but didn't slow on his way to Kevin's side.

9. the foxhole court, chapter 13, when talking to andrew after andrew punched the window in his down, and when neil wanted to run after realizing riko was coming after him:

Neil turned away, but Andrew was faster. He rocked forward and grabbed Neil's collar, dragging him to a halt before he could leave. He left sticky blood on the back of Neil's neck from his messy fingers. Neil reached back and tried to pry him off, but Andrew refused to let go.

10. the foxhole court, chapter 14, when neil decided not to run and to come with andrew to eden's instead:

He pressed two fingers to Neil's throat, checking his pulse. When Neil tried to bat him away, Andrew caught his wrist with his free hand. His smile was small and fierce as he leaned forward into Neil's space. "Remember this feeling. This is the moment you stop being the rabbit." Neil was too startled to answer, but Andrew didn't wait. He slid past Neil, using the weight of his body and his grip on Neil's wrist to pull Neil with him out of the way of the door. He let go in the middle of the hallway and slipped his hands in his pockets to wait.

11. the foxhole court, chapter 14, at eden's twilight that night:

A group of people shouldered their way up to the bar counter at Neil's back, pushing him into Andrew. Andrew didn't budge beneath his weight. He was something solid to lean against, something violent and fierce and unmoving.

12. the foxhole court, chapter 14, after finding out about seth's death, when neil asks andrew if he drinks so he doesn't have to feel anything for a while:

Andrew turned to face him. Neil wasn't expecting it and almost ran into him. Andrew dug his fingertip into the hollow of Neil's throat in warning.

13. the foxhole court, chapter 14, when neil says he won't bargain with the foxes' lives against riko, and andrew says he'll handle it:

Neil said nothing. Andrew hooked his fingers in the collar of Neil's shirt and tugged just enough for Neil to feel it. [...] Andrew didn't let go until Neil nodded, and then he reached for Neil's hand. He took his cigarette back, put it between his lips, and pressed a warm key into Neil's empty palm.

14. the raven king, chapter 5, when andrew calls neil's phone and convinces him to keep it:

"I don't care if you use this phone tomorrow. I don't care if you never use it again. But you are going to keep it on you because one day you might need it." Andrew put a finger to the underside of Neil's chin and forced Neil's head up until they were looking at each other.

15. the raven king, chapter 9, when neil asks if the other foxes can come with them on halloween and andrew tells neil to ask matt what happened the previous year:

When Neil started to argue, Andrew hooked a finger under his chin and forced his mouth closed again with an easy jerk of his hand.

16. the raven king, chapter 10, when neil asks andrew to come with nicky to see his parents, and andrew tells neil about cass:

Andrew rocked onto the balls of his feet and reached for Neil. It was all Neil could do to not tense up when Andrew's hands wrapped around his neck. Andrew didn't hold tight enough to cut off his air but tapped his thumbs against Neil's throat in time to Neil's pulse. [...] Andrew tapped his fingers a little faster, an agitated rhythm completely at odds with the mocking smile on his lips. [...] Finally Andrew reached for him again. This time he hooked his fingers in Neil's shirt collar instead of going for his throat.

17. the raven king, chapter 11, when andrew takes off his wristbands and neil sees his scars for the first time:

Neil grabbed hold of Andrew's wrist. He started to turn Andrew's arm over, sure he'd imagined things, but Andrew clamped his free hand down on Neil's forearm. [...] The iron in his grip was at complete odds with the drugged smile on his face. Andrew wasn't bluffing. If Neil didn't let go fast enough Andrew would break his arm. Neil loosened his grip but spread his fingers as he did so. He felt the slight dip and bump of destroyed skin beneath his fingertips and felt his stomach drop. Andrew wrenched Neil's hand off his arm, but he did it in a way that kept his bared forearm turned toward himself.

18. the raven king, chapter 12, when neil and andrew speak on the porch of nicky's house, and neil tries to get an emotional response from him:

Andrew laughed and pulled a hand free of his pocket. He wrapped his fingers around Neil's throat, not tight enough to cut off Neil's air but snug enough to be a warning. [...] Neil reached up and took hold of Andrew's wrist. He couldn't feel the scars through the cotton sleeve but he didn't need to. He knew they were there. [...] Andrew's fingers slowly tightened until Neil couldn't breathe anymore. He refused to shake Andrew off. The tightness in his chest started as simple discomfort but spread until it felt like every bone in his chest would break beneath the pressure. Neil's control started to crumble, no matter how fiercely he clung to it, and he'd just shifted to throw Andrew back when Andrew finally loosened his grip. Instead of letting go, Andrew slid his hand around back of Neil's neck and pulled him in close. He put his mouth at Neil's ear and lowered his voice, but Neil didn't have to see his face to know Andrew was still smiling.

19. the raven king, chapter 13, when neil says he'll watch kevin while andrew is in the hospital:

Andrew took a couple quick steps his direction and shoved Neil as hard as he could. Neil knew it was coming and tried to brace for it, but he still stumbled back a couple steps. [...] When Andrew pushed him again Neil caught hold of his arms and pulled Andrew with him. [...] He laughed, curled his fingers tight around Neil's chin.

20. the raven king, chapter 13, when neil lets andrew feel his scars as part of his truth on credit to earn andrew's trust:

Neil waited, but Andrew didn't let go. With so many people watching them Neil couldn't lift his shirt. He did the next best thing and dragged one of Andrew's hands under the hem. He pressed Andrew's palm to the ugly scarring across his abdomen. Andrew's eyes dropped to Neil's shirt like he could see Neil's marred skin through the dark cotton. [...] Andrew's fingers twitched against Neil's skin.

21. the king's men, chapter 1, when they get back to psu after picking andrew up from easthaven:

Neil was the first out and he caught Andrew's door before Andrew could close it. Andrew didn't move, but there was just enough room for Neil to lean in and get his binder. He straightened and turned to find Andrew had shifted closer. There was nowhere for Neil to stand except up against Andrew, but somehow Neil didn't mind.

22. the king's men, chapter 1, when neil gave his armbands back:

His gaze dropped immediately to the dark cloth in Neil's outstretched hand and he took them without a word.

23. the king's men, chapter 1, when andrew found out neil went to the ravens over the winter break and realized about the tattoo:

He scratched up a corner of the tape and ripped the bandage off like he wanted to take Neil's face with it.

24. the king's men, chapter 1, when neil said he went to the ravens to protect andrew:

Andrew clapped a hand over his mouth, smothering the rest of his words, and Neil knew he'd failed.

25. the king's men, chapter 2, when andrew goes to get neil from the library:

Fingers digging into the back of his skull startled him awake. He grabbed for a gun, for a knife, for anything close enough to buy him room to flee, and sent the computer mouse skidding across the table. Neil stared blankly at it, then at the screen in front of him. Fingers clenched into a fist in his hair and Neil didn't resist as Andrew forcibly tilted his head back.

26. the king's men, chapter 2, when neil got between matt and andrew when andrew went after matt for hitting kevin:

He used his body and momentum to shove Andrew back. He expected Andrew to hold his ground, but Andrew let himself get pushed and flicked Neil an unconcerned look.

27. the king's men, chapter 2, when neil protested that he could still walk when wymack says he doesn't want neil to move too much because of his injuries:

Andrew dug a fingernail into the hollow of Neil's throat until he had Neil's undivided attention. "Sit down and be still." Neil batted Andrew's hand away and turned back to the couch.

28. the king's men, chapter 2, when neil protested that wymack was benching him because of his injuries:

Neil forgot the rest of his argument when Andrew pinched his wrist. A bolt of fire popped through his fingers and he snatched his hand away as fast as he could.

29. the king's men, chapter 3, when andrew sees neil's scars for the first time (lots of touches here):

He got his shirt over his head and to his elbows before Andrew got tired of watching him struggle and tugged the shirt loose. [...] Andrew reached for the bandages on Neil's wrists, and Neil let him rip tape and gauze off. [...] On Neil's right shoulder was a burn scar, courtesy of getting smacked by a hot iron. Andrew put his left hand to it, fingertips lining up perfectly with the raised bumps the iron's holes had left behind. His right thumb found the puckered flesh from a bullet. [...] "This," Andrew dug his fingers harder into the iron mark, "is not from a life on the run." [...] Andrew was quiet a long time, then dropped his hand to the slashes across Neil's gut.

30. the king's men, chapter 9, when they talk on the roof and andrew gives neil a key to his new car:

Andrew dug a finger in Neil's cheek and forcibly turned his head away. "Don't look at me like that. I am not your answer, and you sure as fuck aren't mine."

31. the king's men, chapter 9, when andrew kisses him for the first time:

With that, Andrew caught Neil's face in his hands and leaned in. [...] Andrew kissed him like this was a fight with their lives on the line, like his world stopped and started with Neil's mouth. Neil's heart stuttered to a stop at the first hard press of lips against his and he reached up without thinking. His hand made it as far as Andrew's jaw before he remembered Andrew didn't like to be touched. Neil caught hold of Andrew's coat sleeve instead and knotted his fingers in the heavy wool. The touch was a trigger. Andrew leaned back just enough to say, "Tell me no."

32. the king's men, chapter 9, when neil doesn't say no to the kiss:

He practically shoved Neil's arm away from him and leaned back out of Neil's space.

33. the king's men, chapter 10, when they kiss back in the dorm (cut some of the end of this scene for length):

Neil took the pint from Andrew's unresisting fingers, stacked it on top of his, and leaned in. He stopped shy of actually kissing Andrew, not daring to touch him until Andrew gave him a green light. Andrew's expression didn't change but there was a subtle shift in his body's tension that told Neil he'd gotten Andrew's attention. Neil lifted a hand but stopped it a safe difference from Andrew's face. Andrew caught hold of his wrist and squeezed in warning. [...] For a second Neil thought Andrew would push him away and be done with this. Andrew did push, but he followed Neil down. The short carpet was rough against Neil's knuckles where Andrew pinned his hand over his head. Neil couldn't complain when Andrew was an unyielding weight on top of him. He started to reach for Andrew again but stopped himself halfway there. Andrew snagged that hand too and held it down out of the way. "Stay," Andrew said, and leaned down to kiss him.

34. the king's men, chapter 10, when neil asks andrew to let something in after the foxes win and move onto round three of finals:

Andrew pushed Neil out of the way and slid off the car.

35. the king's men, chapter 11, when neil and andrew are alone in the dorm again, after andrew talks about how he hasn't figured out which neil is the lesser of two evils:

His fingers were cold from the can when he curled them around Neil's chin. [...] Andrew waited until he'd gone still before kissing him. [...] He was cotton-headed and unsteady by the time Andrew pressed his other hand flat against Neil's abdomen. Every nerve ending from his chest down seemed to twitch in response. Neil clenched his hands into fists like that would keep them where they were and let Andrew back him into the wall.

36. the king's men, chapter 11, after neil's phone goes off with his countdown text while they're kissing:

Neil kissed his neck, hoping to distract him, and was rewarded with a startled jolt. That was enough reason to do it again. Andrew pushed his face away, but they were standing too close together for Neil to miss the way he shivered. Andrew kissed him before Neil could say anything about it. Andrew pushed him harder into the wall, mapping him out through his shirt from shoulders to waist and back again. He'd had his hands on Neil's bare skin just a couple weeks ago when he saw Neil's scars, but this felt completely different. This was Andrew learning every inch and edge of him. His hands had never felt this heavy or hot before. Every press and demanding slide of his fingers sent heat curling through Neil's veins.

37. the king's men, chapter 11, when andrew moves neil's hands to touch him while they're kissing:

He hadn't said that aloud, but as if on cue Andrew followed Neil's arms down to his wrists and poked his fingers into Neil's pockets. He was making sure Neil's hands were still there, Neil guessed, so Neil twisted his hands deeper in response. Andrew caught hold of his wrists and squeezed to stop him. After a moment's consideration he pulled Neil's hands free and held them up by his head. He kissed Neil like he wanted to bruise his lips and leaned back to fix Neil with an intense stare. "Just here." "Okay," Neil said, and dug his fingers into Andrew's hair as soon as Andrew's grip went slack. [...] All that mattered now was how easy it was to pull Andrew in for another kiss. Andrew slowly let go of his wrists and placed a hand flat on Neil's chest. They stood like that an age, Andrew testing Neil's control and Neil content to kiss their mouths numb.

38. the king's men, chapter 11, andrew getting neil off for the first time (some of this quote is cut because this scene was too long):

Andrew's hand between his legs was an unexpected weight. Neil didn't realize how tight he twisted his fingers in Andrew's hair until Andrew bit his lower lip in warning. Neil grumbled something incoherent and forcibly loosened his death grip. He thought he tasted blood, but it was a fleeting tang quickly forgotten as Andrew got his button and zipper undone. Andrew wasn't gentle, but Neil didn't want him to be. [...] They stood cheek-to-cheek a minute, an hour, a day, Neil's heart pounding in his temples and overloaded nerves shuddering. Coherent thought came back in lazy, fractured pieces and the first thing Neil was really aware of was how tight Andrew's fingers were digging into his chest. Neil tried to look down, but Andrew gave him a short shove in response. [...] Neil flexed his fingers in Andrew's hair, fixing his grip so he could tug Andrew into a short kiss. Andrew tolerated it for only a moment before leaning back. He wiped his hand on Neil's shirt before tugging at Neil's wrists. Neil obediently let go of him and didn't miss the way Andrew watched him lower his hands.

39. the king's men, chapter 11, when they start kissing more often:

Andrew pinned him against chilly concrete and worked hot hands under his shirt.

40. the king's men, chapter 11, when they're chatting on the roof and neil takes andrew's cigarette:

Andrew pinched his wrist and took the stick back.

41. the king's men, chapter 11, after neil shuts andrew up by saying he is nothing and andrew wants nothing:

"Stop talking," Andrew said, and kissed him.

42. the king's men, chapter 12, on the bus alone before the game on his last countdown day when neil says he still doesn't swing because all he wants is andrew:

He buried his hands in Andrew's hair and tugged him in for a kiss. It was easy to forget this endless ride and tonight's game with Andrew's hand on his thigh and teeth on his lip.

43. the king's men, chapter 14, in the hotel meeting for the first time after neil was taken:

The weight of a hand on the back of his neck said he'd bought Andrew enough time to reach him. Nathaniel didn't remember closing his eyes, but he forced them open again. He tried straightening, but Andrew caught his shoulder and shoved him to his knees.

44. the king's men, chapter 14, andrew kneeling in front of neil to look at him in the hotel:

Andrew's expression was deceptively calm, but there was iron in his grip when he seized Nathaniel's chin.

45. the king's men, chapter 14, andrew looking over neil's injuries:

Andrew let go of him so he could tug Nathaniel's hood out of the way. He dragged a finger along the lines of tape keeping the myriad of bandages in place as if looking for the best place to start. He tore the gauze off Nathaniel's right cheek first, exposing the striped lines left by Lola's knife. He favored the stitches with a cursory glance before moving on. The tape on Nathaniel's other cheek hurt like hell coming off, since it pulled the skin around his burns, and Andrew froze with his hand a few scant inches from Nathaniel's face.

46. the king's men, chapter 14, andrew looking at the burns and injuries on neil's face:

Andrew pressed two fingers to the underside of Nathaniel's chin to turn his head. Nathaniel let himself be guided and said nothing while Andrew looked his fill. When Andrew dropped his hand and clenched it in Nathaniel's hoodie, Nathaniel risked looking back at him. There was violence in Andrew's eyes, but at least he hadn't shoved Nathaniel away yet.

47. the king's men, chapter 14, when neil tells andrew why he didn't say anything about his father's men to protect the foxes and that he didn't know they'd already planned a riot:

Nathaniel still had his hands up by Andrew's face, so he lightly tapped a thumb against the bruise at Andrew's eye.

48. the king's men, chapter 14, when abby tries to approach when she sees neil's face:

He caught hold of Nathaniel to turn his face forward again and shot Abby a look so vicious she stopped in her tracks.

49. the king's men, chapter 14, when neil tries to get andrew to focus on him and not abby:

Nathaniel gave Andrew's hair a cautious tug. Andrew resisted the first two attempts but finally let Nathaniel drag his attention back where it needed to be.

50. the king's men, chapter 14, when abby backs off:

He didn't hear her step back but he knew she did by the way Andrew's death grip on his skull relaxed. Nathaniel kept one hand buried in Andrew's hair but finally lowered the other.

51. the king's men, chapter 14, when neil tells andrew what happened to his father:

He crossed a precarious line and pressed two fingers to Andrew's chest over his heart.

52. the king's men, chapter 14, when neil says he'll leave if andrew doesn't want him:

Andrew hooked his fingers in the collar of Nathaniel's sweatshirt and tugged just enough for him to feel it.

53. the king's men, chapter 14, when browning keeps interrupting their time with neil:

Andrew tugged Nathaniel's hoodie and said in German, "Get rid of them before I kill them."

54. the king's men, chapter 14, on the car ride back from the interrogation:

Neil sat in the backseat with Andrew and toyed with the bandages on his face. Andrew popped the back of his head when he realized what Neil was doing and ignored Neil's scowl.

55. the king's men, chapter 14, when neil starts panicking when he sees his injuries when abby changes his bandages:

Neil didn't know what sound he made but Andrew's fingers were a sudden and unforgiving weight on the back of his neck. Andrew pushed him forward and held him down. Neil tried to breathe but his chest was as tight as a rubber band ready to snap.

56. the king's men, chapter 14, after andrew gets neil to calm down:

He went limp and let Andrew pull him back upright.

57. the king's men, chapter 15, when andrew is trying to get neil ready for a shower while matt is still in the room:

Andrew waited until he was seated before lifting the bottom edge of Neil's hoodie. He raised it an inch or two, then checked another spot, and finally poked his hand up under the edge.

58. the king's men, chapter 15, when neil struggles getting undressed for a shower:

Andrew gave him only a second before peeling the sleeves off his arms one at a time.

59. the king's men, chapter 15, andrew putting the bags over his bandages and injuries:

Andrew pulled a garbage bag over each arm, tore the excess edges off, and taped the jagged ends to Neil's biceps. He tugged at both bags to check for any give and added another layer of tape to be sure. When Neil's arms were good, Andrew started on his face. He picked up one of the plastic ends he'd torn off, folded it over and over in on itself, and taped it over one of Neil's cheeks like a shiny black bandage. Neil was pretty sure Andrew put more tape than plastic on Neil's face, but Neil wasn't going to complain. Andrew finished his other cheek and inspected his handiwork. Neil guessed he was satisfied with the end result because Andrew tossed the scissors and roll of tape off to one side.

60. the king's men, chapter 15, when neil tries to secure the blanket around his shoulders but can't because of the bags on his hands:

Andrew watched him try twice, then pushed his hands aside and did it for him.

61. the king's men, chapter 15, when getting into the shower:

Andrew studied his chest with a bored look, but the fingers he pressed to Neil's scars were a heavy and lingering weight.

62. the king's men, chapter 15, in the bathroom before the shower:

Neil leaned in to kiss him, needing to know if Andrew would lean away or push him back. Instead Andrew opened his mouth to Neil without hesitation and slid his hand up Neil's chest to his throat. Kissing hurt his injured cheeks but Neil fought to ignore that twinging pain. It'd only been a couple days since those kisses on the bus but right now it felt like forever.

63. the king's men, chapter 15, after kissing, before showering:

"You are a mess," Andrew said against Neil's lips.

64. the king's men, chapter 15, getting in the shower:

Neil stepped on the hems of his pants to get them started in coming off, but Andrew did most of the work stripping him. It was awkward being naked in front of someone else, his scars and bruises on full display, but the uncomfortable curl in Neil's gut was eased somewhat by the detached way Andrew handled him.

65. the king's men, chapter 15, hair washing:

A hand in his hair jarred him from his thoughts and he cracked his eyes open to see Andrew standing in front of him. Andrew hadn't bothered to get undressed aside from stripping his bands and shoes off. Water plastered his black shirt to him, and small streams raced down his temples and over his cheeks to drip off his chin. Neil reached for his face, remembered the bags just in time, and frowned a bit in annoyance. Andrew pushed his hand aside and yanked the shower curtain closed.

66. the king's men, chapter 15, not washing anymore (ended this quote early but we all know what happens next):

Andrew got Neil's hair washed efficiently, if not gently, but by the time he moved on to Neil's body there was more kissing than cleaning. Andrew made the mistake of turning his face away at one point, so Neil chased water down the side of Andrew's neck. Andrew's fingers clenched convulsively on Neil's sides as a shudder wracked Andrew's frame. [...]

67. the king's men, chapter 15, after the shower:

Andrew scrubbed him dry, careful around his injuries and too-vigorous everywhere else, and peeled the dripping bags from Neil's arms and face. Andrew ran a considering finger along the bandages on Neil's left arm before helping Neil into the loosest clothes he owned.

68. the king's men, chapter 15, first night on vacation with the foxes:

Andrew wasn't far behind him, and together they got Neil changed out for bed. [...] Despite his reservations, there was something painfully familiar about the weight of another body in his bed. Less familiar was the way it felt being pushed deeper into the mattress, Andrew's hands on his shoulders and tongue in his mouth, but that was something Neil could definitely get used to. [...] He buried his unease and confusion deep and worked bandaged fingers into Andrew's hair. He didn't care how much it hurt so long as he could pull Andrew's elbow. Andrew wrenched out of his grip but stopped moving.

69. the king's men, chapter 15 (the second one), after andrew confronts katelyn in the library:

Neil let him get to the railing overlooking the campus pond before catching hold of Andrew's elbow. Andrew wrenched out of his grip but stopped moving.

70. the king's men, chapter 15 (the second one), after asking how andrew can stand to be with neil after everything he'd been through:

Then Andrew was back, as calm and uncaring as always, and he caught Neil's wrist to push his hand to his side. He dug his fingers in before letting go, not quite hard enough to hurt, and said, "That's why."

71. the king's men, chapter 15 (the second one), when they're alone after winning a game and the rest of the team celebrated:

Andrew was ready when Neil turned back to him, and he caught Neil's collar to pull him down. Neil planted one hand against the rough carpet to keep himself leveraged off Andrew's body. The other he buried in the beanbag near Andrew's head. Andrew dragged a hand down Neil's arm from his shoulder to his wrist.

72. the king's men, chapter 15 (the second one), when neil told andrew he's not a pipe-dream:

Neil ignored that dismissal because Andrew was already pulling him down again. They kissed until Neil felt dizzy, until he wasn't sure he could hold himself up anymore, and then Andrew pulled Neil's hand off the beanbag chair. He held it up away from them for an eternity, then slowly pressed it flat against his chest and let go. Andrew tensed up underneath Neil's hand but relaxed before Neil could pull away.

73. the king's men, chapter 16, at eden's twilight:

The club was too loud for Neil to hear Andrew's approach, but suddenly Andrew was pressed into his side by the crowd.

74. the king's men, epilogue, when neil realizes he has everything he wants:

Now he couldn't help but smile and pull Andrew in.

#andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #i might have missed some things but #wow lol looking at this list #i cant believe i made this whole thing #anyway i hope this is helpful or at least cool to look at for other people #i'm just the kind of guy who likes to make spreadsheets about everything so of course i have spreadsheets crossreferencing so much in aftg #aftg #all for the game #UGH had to edit this because tumblr didnt save one of my earlier edits and I didn't realize until now

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