(spicy short story/DC+Mercúrio) Three Weeks; A Heartbeat
8h
• No comments yet
Heeello, everyone!
I'm so sorry for the delay to post this one—but it was one of the hardest short stories I've ever written. Still, with 5.4k words, I had a lot of fun with it.
Fun fact: Mercúrio is actually the first character I ever created for a book, back when I was 14 (!!!). They've lived several different lives and existed in many iterations of my universes, but the one in the LtGBtK series is definitely my favorite version of him.
That also means that they're so solidified in my mind, that it was difficult to imagine a scenario where they managed to develop any kind of interest in DC other than platonic. My solution to that was to think long and hard about what exactly Mercúrio is searching for, how they usually operate, how DC challenges them...
And by doing that, I found the truth that I've known existed all along: DC and Mercúrio's route would be my absolute favorite in the game... but I don't think I could write a slowburn THIS slow.
Sooo, what you'll see in this here short story is the "Apogee" (wink wink), the clímax of all that—the moment that starts everything for real.
Since it's a (not so) quick peek into the future, I did my absolute best not to give any spoilers, but if you're as perceptive as I know you all are, I'm sure you'll see some teasing sneak peeks of what's coming in the very first chapters of Ward the Dragon, Love the King.
))
I hope you'll enjoy the read!
Still this week I'll post the poll for our October short story, plus a nice devlog with my plans for the month. See you all soon!
Big hugs,
Ligia
From the free patreon membership.Preview below:
Three Weeks; A Heartbeat
9:XX, somewhere in the Mapiguari Forest, near the Amonite-Aventurianese border.
IN A POSSIBLE FUTURE, XX YEARS AFTER THE ENDING OF THE GAME.
You peek over your shoulder at the faint, foliage-cut light in the distance and resent how cold these woods are during the night. The rest of the group will protect the documents and tend to the campfire while you're gone, so you finally—for the first time in the past five hours—relax enough to allow your face to crumple in pain.
There were several reasons why you couldn't do this before. One, it's the first mission of some of your people, so you can't allow a blow to their morale. Two, there are still three weeks of travel ahead, and any delay could easily turn that into a month.
Three, Lord Mercúrio is back. Finally. And, well. You don't want them to see you like this. Weakened. Hurt.
Because of a mistake, of all things.
You don't want them to think you're the same person you were when he left.
The thought makes your stomach sink. You've worked hard to be seen as an equal, to be thought of as an ally. To be considered a peer.
But you became so much more than that.
The changes were slow at first, then intense and all-consuming. Not like a flood at the beginning of spring, but like the avalanche that starts with a single snowflake. And when the time arrived to share their secrets and confess their fears, Mercúrio chose your bed to visit and your shoulder to ask for.
Nothing physical happened then, but it could have, and that thought has been consuming your mind and heart ever since. The moments you shared, the adventures you had, the victories you fought for, together… and then that almost kiss at the end of it all, when they caressed your chin, lips to your ear, and breathed out a goodbye.
"We'll see each other again."
Which is exactly why this whole situation is so confusing. After saying and doing all that, Mercúrio spent four months away. They sent you three letters, two gifts through Lady Melike, but in all that time, you didn’t see him once.
Mercúrio was right, though—your reunion did happen, even if their reaction to your presence couldn't have been any colder. A polite greeting, a soulless smile, and something in their eyes that you could almost classify as “regret.” You sigh and push the thought to the back of your mind.
What could you expect, though, given who they really are? You know how hard it is; how your entire life, to them, is nothing but a heartbeat.
You see the last of your knights slipping into their tents to sleep (Mercúrio disappeared as soon as you started to set up camp), so you know the time will have to be now. With a grunt and a grimace, you stand and walk to the edge of the water, some good distance away from your camp. Calves all but entirely submerged in the thermal lake’s hot water, you sit at the edge of the pier and let out a pained breath.
It’s time to tend to the wound you've been hiding the whole afternoon.
There aren’t many people in this Kingdom who could outskill you in a fight, but that old friend of yours, capricious as she is, half-dead or not, is steadily becoming one of them.
You take a deep breath, close your eyes, and furrow your eyebrows. Unclasp your belts, take off your armor, untie the strings in your pants, slip your ripped shirt off. The cold breeze spreads goosebumps on your skin, and you shiver.
Before looking at the wound, you touch it with both hands, following the ugly bruises that connect the left side of your chest to the upper side of your thigh. The deeper purple marks show the place where the chain links hit you, but there are very small lacerations and redness from those damned little spikes in the metal. Two, maybe two and a half centimeters to the left, and the hit would've been dangerous. As it is, though, it's more uncomfortable than anything else—a result of accepting to fight without your armor. Her goading, the dullness of the trip, and a certain Master Arcanos made you think that that was a good idea at the time.
Well, it wasn’t.
One of your fingers touches a still sore area, and the pain is enough to make you bite down on your lower lip, locking a grunt in your throat. At least it doesn’t feel like it’s broken.
"Goddess." With a sigh, you breathe in and out until the pain goes away. This would be much easier if you could actually look at the whole thing, but the purpling wound wraps beyond your side and burns in a blind spot at your back. "Cursed rat," you whisper.
You sigh and look to the south, toward the direction D. and the others are waiting, thousands of kilometers away. The sigh that follows comes from remembering that you promised them you'd be careful.
You weren't.
"****, the siblings will…." You trail off. Instead of missing home, you must focus on your mission. With a determined nod, you find the wooden box at your side and separate the poultices you'll use. The faster you and your Lord reach Aventurina, the faster you can go back. "And once I'm back," you whisper and cup a handful of lake water to clean your wounds, "I'll sleep in a comfortable bed, take a warm bath, and f—"
"Find that you need better armor, or maybe a more skilled training partner," someone supplies.
The voice makes your shoulders jump, and you spin around so quickly, your hand bats half of the vials into the water.
"****!" You can only watch as the vials sink, lost in the inky darkness of the lake. "What in the ashes, Mercúrio! Why do you keep doing that? We’ve known each other for more than 30 years now; you can’t still think that’s funny."
Despite your glare, Lord Mercúrio chuckles and approaches. “Oh, but I do,” they say.
And as much as you try to stop it, your expression softens, and something in your chest tightens.
He stands taller, prouder, sharper than ever before, not a shadow of the vulnerability that only you saw that night, years ago. You've been traveling together for a week now, and the change still gives you shivers. You spent, what? Four months without seeing them? And yet, even if they don't look a day older, something changed in them.
Something that ripples within you, reaching that thread of connection you rediscovered not so long ago.
He sits beside you, and their sigh is followed by a low hum that makes the goosebumps on your arms multiply.
"I knew you were hiding something," Lord Mercúrio whispers—but you notice that they keep their gaze respectfully away from your half-naked body; their Adam's apple bobs up and down when they swallow.
No matter—if they're not looking at you, it means you can finally study them. And it's power, you realize. Lord Mercúrio is thrumming with a different type of power. Not something arcane, not something mystical, but strong all the same.
"You can cover yourself any time now," Lord Mercúrio says with a teasing smile.
Cheeks heating up, you tug at your discarded shirt, but the slash in the linen leaves you struggling with its strings. Mercúrio chuckles.
"Your tolerance to pain is truly incredible; that looks terrible." Mercúrio unfastens their cape. He tosses it over your shoulders and tugs you closer so they can fasten it. It's still warm, and that warmth spreads over your back, threatening to climb up your neck and reach your cheeks. You turn away. Lord Mercúrio continues, "But should you really be this careless? You're still needed, you know that." He clicks his tongue in mock disappointment.
"I can't help it. Now that the kingdom is safe and we're not in mortal danger anymore, I need something to fill that void," you mumble. They laugh.
Once you’re properly covered, Lord Mercúrio leans down to take off his boots; their jacket, vest, and shirt soon follow.
You tug the cape closer. "What are you doing?"
They lift an eyebrow and gesture at the lake, then at the remaining half of your vials. "Saving you, of course."
Now that the cape is tight around you, they study you as well, chest rising in a deep breath that has both of you in a weird type of suspension—like a time-slowing spell or a long fall into a river.
You frown and open your mouth to answer, but before you can, Lord Mercúrio jumps into the water.
And when their shadow disappears, you huff and lean back.
The reflection of the moon on the water has barely moved when they emerge and swim forward, three glass vials clinking between their fingers. When the sound of the water quietens, it's replaced by Mercúrio's low chuckle, which in turn becomes a laugh.
"What's so funny?" you ask, more than a little bitterness in your voice.
"Ah." They take a deep breath and approach with a final arm stroke. "You, of course. What else?"
You frown—just a little—and lean forward, your mouth filled with anger and ready for an argument, but you stop mid-movement and hiss. The pain reminds you of what you're doing here in the first place.
"****." And in a lower voice, "You must find tragedies really funny, huh."
Lord Mercúrio chuckles again. You look down to check your wound, and a hand, then an arm, crosses your sight. You look up to find your Lord's arms resting on your thighs. It’s so close and so sudden, your heart skips a beat. The warm water and the cold breeze make their skin feel a lot hotter against yours.
"Here." Elbow on one of your knees, they offer you the vials. Your fingers brush his as you take them, and the knot in your stomach grows tighter.
You study each other. You, with your new scars, harder heart, sharper eyes. He, with that widening smile, the same warm gaze, and a new necklace glimmering under the moonlight.
8h
• No comments yet
Heeello, everyone!
I'm so sorry for the delay to post this one—but it was one of the hardest short stories I've ever written. Still, with 5.4k words, I had a lot of fun with it.
Fun fact: Mercúrio is actually the first character I ever created for a book, back when I was 14 (!!!). They've lived several different lives and existed in many iterations of my universes, but the one in the LtGBtK series is definitely my favorite version of him.
That also means that they're so solidified in my mind, that it was difficult to imagine a scenario where they managed to develop any kind of interest in DC other than platonic. My solution to that was to think long and hard about what exactly Mercúrio is searching for, how they usually operate, how DC challenges them...
And by doing that, I found the truth that I've known existed all along: DC and Mercúrio's route would be my absolute favorite in the game... but I don't think I could write a slowburn THIS slow.
Sooo, what you'll see in this here short story is the "Apogee" (wink wink), the clímax of all that—the moment that starts everything for real.
Since it's a (not so) quick peek into the future, I did my absolute best not to give any spoilers, but if you're as perceptive as I know you all are, I'm sure you'll see some teasing sneak peeks of what's coming in the very first chapters of Ward the Dragon, Love the King.
))I hope you'll enjoy the read!
Still this week I'll post the poll for our October short story, plus a nice devlog with my plans for the month. See you all soon!
Big hugs,
Ligia
From the free patreon membership.Preview below:
Three Weeks; A Heartbeat
9:XX, somewhere in the Mapiguari Forest, near the Amonite-Aventurianese border.
IN A POSSIBLE FUTURE, XX YEARS AFTER THE ENDING OF THE GAME.
You peek over your shoulder at the faint, foliage-cut light in the distance and resent how cold these woods are during the night. The rest of the group will protect the documents and tend to the campfire while you're gone, so you finally—for the first time in the past five hours—relax enough to allow your face to crumple in pain.
There were several reasons why you couldn't do this before. One, it's the first mission of some of your people, so you can't allow a blow to their morale. Two, there are still three weeks of travel ahead, and any delay could easily turn that into a month.
Three, Lord Mercúrio is back. Finally. And, well. You don't want them to see you like this. Weakened. Hurt.
Because of a mistake, of all things.
You don't want them to think you're the same person you were when he left.
The thought makes your stomach sink. You've worked hard to be seen as an equal, to be thought of as an ally. To be considered a peer.
But you became so much more than that.
The changes were slow at first, then intense and all-consuming. Not like a flood at the beginning of spring, but like the avalanche that starts with a single snowflake. And when the time arrived to share their secrets and confess their fears, Mercúrio chose your bed to visit and your shoulder to ask for.
Nothing physical happened then, but it could have, and that thought has been consuming your mind and heart ever since. The moments you shared, the adventures you had, the victories you fought for, together… and then that almost kiss at the end of it all, when they caressed your chin, lips to your ear, and breathed out a goodbye.
"We'll see each other again."
Which is exactly why this whole situation is so confusing. After saying and doing all that, Mercúrio spent four months away. They sent you three letters, two gifts through Lady Melike, but in all that time, you didn’t see him once.
Mercúrio was right, though—your reunion did happen, even if their reaction to your presence couldn't have been any colder. A polite greeting, a soulless smile, and something in their eyes that you could almost classify as “regret.” You sigh and push the thought to the back of your mind.
What could you expect, though, given who they really are? You know how hard it is; how your entire life, to them, is nothing but a heartbeat.
You see the last of your knights slipping into their tents to sleep (Mercúrio disappeared as soon as you started to set up camp), so you know the time will have to be now. With a grunt and a grimace, you stand and walk to the edge of the water, some good distance away from your camp. Calves all but entirely submerged in the thermal lake’s hot water, you sit at the edge of the pier and let out a pained breath.
It’s time to tend to the wound you've been hiding the whole afternoon.
There aren’t many people in this Kingdom who could outskill you in a fight, but that old friend of yours, capricious as she is, half-dead or not, is steadily becoming one of them.
You take a deep breath, close your eyes, and furrow your eyebrows. Unclasp your belts, take off your armor, untie the strings in your pants, slip your ripped shirt off. The cold breeze spreads goosebumps on your skin, and you shiver.
Before looking at the wound, you touch it with both hands, following the ugly bruises that connect the left side of your chest to the upper side of your thigh. The deeper purple marks show the place where the chain links hit you, but there are very small lacerations and redness from those damned little spikes in the metal. Two, maybe two and a half centimeters to the left, and the hit would've been dangerous. As it is, though, it's more uncomfortable than anything else—a result of accepting to fight without your armor. Her goading, the dullness of the trip, and a certain Master Arcanos made you think that that was a good idea at the time.
Well, it wasn’t.
One of your fingers touches a still sore area, and the pain is enough to make you bite down on your lower lip, locking a grunt in your throat. At least it doesn’t feel like it’s broken.
"Goddess." With a sigh, you breathe in and out until the pain goes away. This would be much easier if you could actually look at the whole thing, but the purpling wound wraps beyond your side and burns in a blind spot at your back. "Cursed rat," you whisper.
You sigh and look to the south, toward the direction D. and the others are waiting, thousands of kilometers away. The sigh that follows comes from remembering that you promised them you'd be careful.
You weren't.
"****, the siblings will…." You trail off. Instead of missing home, you must focus on your mission. With a determined nod, you find the wooden box at your side and separate the poultices you'll use. The faster you and your Lord reach Aventurina, the faster you can go back. "And once I'm back," you whisper and cup a handful of lake water to clean your wounds, "I'll sleep in a comfortable bed, take a warm bath, and f—"
"Find that you need better armor, or maybe a more skilled training partner," someone supplies.
The voice makes your shoulders jump, and you spin around so quickly, your hand bats half of the vials into the water.
"****!" You can only watch as the vials sink, lost in the inky darkness of the lake. "What in the ashes, Mercúrio! Why do you keep doing that? We’ve known each other for more than 30 years now; you can’t still think that’s funny."
Despite your glare, Lord Mercúrio chuckles and approaches. “Oh, but I do,” they say.
And as much as you try to stop it, your expression softens, and something in your chest tightens.
He stands taller, prouder, sharper than ever before, not a shadow of the vulnerability that only you saw that night, years ago. You've been traveling together for a week now, and the change still gives you shivers. You spent, what? Four months without seeing them? And yet, even if they don't look a day older, something changed in them.
Something that ripples within you, reaching that thread of connection you rediscovered not so long ago.
He sits beside you, and their sigh is followed by a low hum that makes the goosebumps on your arms multiply.
"I knew you were hiding something," Lord Mercúrio whispers—but you notice that they keep their gaze respectfully away from your half-naked body; their Adam's apple bobs up and down when they swallow.
No matter—if they're not looking at you, it means you can finally study them. And it's power, you realize. Lord Mercúrio is thrumming with a different type of power. Not something arcane, not something mystical, but strong all the same.
"You can cover yourself any time now," Lord Mercúrio says with a teasing smile.
Cheeks heating up, you tug at your discarded shirt, but the slash in the linen leaves you struggling with its strings. Mercúrio chuckles.
"Your tolerance to pain is truly incredible; that looks terrible." Mercúrio unfastens their cape. He tosses it over your shoulders and tugs you closer so they can fasten it. It's still warm, and that warmth spreads over your back, threatening to climb up your neck and reach your cheeks. You turn away. Lord Mercúrio continues, "But should you really be this careless? You're still needed, you know that." He clicks his tongue in mock disappointment.
"I can't help it. Now that the kingdom is safe and we're not in mortal danger anymore, I need something to fill that void," you mumble. They laugh.
Once you’re properly covered, Lord Mercúrio leans down to take off his boots; their jacket, vest, and shirt soon follow.
You tug the cape closer. "What are you doing?"
They lift an eyebrow and gesture at the lake, then at the remaining half of your vials. "Saving you, of course."
Now that the cape is tight around you, they study you as well, chest rising in a deep breath that has both of you in a weird type of suspension—like a time-slowing spell or a long fall into a river.
You frown and open your mouth to answer, but before you can, Lord Mercúrio jumps into the water.
And when their shadow disappears, you huff and lean back.
The reflection of the moon on the water has barely moved when they emerge and swim forward, three glass vials clinking between their fingers. When the sound of the water quietens, it's replaced by Mercúrio's low chuckle, which in turn becomes a laugh.
"What's so funny?" you ask, more than a little bitterness in your voice.
"Ah." They take a deep breath and approach with a final arm stroke. "You, of course. What else?"
You frown—just a little—and lean forward, your mouth filled with anger and ready for an argument, but you stop mid-movement and hiss. The pain reminds you of what you're doing here in the first place.
"****." And in a lower voice, "You must find tragedies really funny, huh."
Lord Mercúrio chuckles again. You look down to check your wound, and a hand, then an arm, crosses your sight. You look up to find your Lord's arms resting on your thighs. It’s so close and so sudden, your heart skips a beat. The warm water and the cold breeze make their skin feel a lot hotter against yours.
"Here." Elbow on one of your knees, they offer you the vials. Your fingers brush his as you take them, and the knot in your stomach grows tighter.
You study each other. You, with your new scars, harder heart, sharper eyes. He, with that widening smile, the same warm gaze, and a new necklace glimmering under the moonlight.
