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Luke.

[ She huffs out a noise, running a hand up through her hair to push it out of her face. ]

I've just woken up from a two-week too long nap and I just want -- just tell me you're not going to get yourself killed, really. Please?

Hermione. [ it's only fair he responds to her luke with her own name, purposefully interjecting her before she thinks to remind him of the i care. he doesn't know why he even contacted her, she's sometimes on par with martha in how infuriating she can be with that reminder. ]

[ he doesn't sigh or huff or even let a pause slip between her last word and then his first. ] I'm not going to get myself killed. Really.

[ there's a 50% chance this will blow up in his face, the other 50% chance of him making an enemy out of the unseelie like he thinks he should've been a good two years ago. but if she wants him to say it, then he's not going to deny her what would've been a brilliant reality if he wasn't luke castellan. ]

[ if the unseelie weren't so damn boring he wouldn't have been stupid and worried her in the first place. really, it's the unseelie's fault. ]

[ Hermione breathes out, accepting him at his word. She can't make him promise not to get into trouble or into danger any more - not considering how ridiculous and upside down her own life has been over the last few years - but she hopes that she can nudge him this way, to remind him that someone is looking out for him, that someone cares about him. It's as her title and her other form constantly remind her; she's a lioness. She protects her family.

Finally, she leans back, closing her eyes and nodding to herself, squeezing at her locket with white fingertips. Eventually, she finds words again, her voice low and quiet; sleeping for two weeks didn't make her less tired. ]

Thank you.

[ Maybe he won't understand, maybe he never will, but he's Luke. He's Luke and Hermione is worried, she's afraid, and she can't lose him. He's been her friend for two years, more, now, and she wants - she wants to keep him safe.

That's so hard, here. But she has to try. ]

Do you need any help not getting killed?

[ luke's the type of guy who simply does as he wants and doesn't really care about the consequences. he wonders if that's what being a hermes kid is really about, not giving a damn, thinking that they go above and beyond the rules and expectations of others because dad can travel between dimensions like it's a piece of goddamn cake. ]

[ or maybe it's just really difficult believing anyone gives a shit about him when he's been without a shadow trying to embrace him in safety for the years he'd been a kid and on the run. being in the drabwurld for a good few years hasn't made it any easier. the people who have given a shit about him have gone. there's something to be said about that, he thinks. ]

[ rather than say no, luke figures that he should. maybe if he asks about something, she'll calm down, maybe think him an idiot for even calling her and saying outright he's doing something stupid. at the end of a two week sleep, luke castellan remaining stupid and stubborn and a little oblivious may as well remind her the world hasn't tumbled out of control without her. ]

You can talk my ear off about that cloak you got me for Christmas. [ his voice is gentle. he hasn't put any of her gifts to use, save for the collars the foxes somehow pull from their necks and thieve from one another. he'd been good over the last year, boring, with nothing to guide him into mischief until the monarchs had returned. ] Figured I might give it a trial run. See if you've got good taste.

What makes you think I'd talk your ear off?

[ Not that she's teasing or huffing. This is nice; she has no idea what he's doing, not really, but as long as he's talking to her he's safe. As long as he's here on the lockets with her there's no danger of him getting into more and more trouble - and she knows she could track him down if she really wanted, she has the runes for it, but she doesn't want to put him in that position. He's a big boy.

It doesn't stop her fretting, of course. ]

It's not quite an invisibility cloak, but it's as close to one as you can get. The Disillusionment spell is quite simply, really, almost like a chameleon - it helps you to blend almost perfectly into the background of wherever you are. It doesn't hide how you smell or your shard, of course, and if you move it might disrupt the image, but it's still very good for sneaking around and being particularly clever.

[ Crossing her legs under herself, Hermione smiles softly, thumb pressing over the colour of her locket. ]

It's supposed to keep you safe, you know, not to help you get into trouble. When you're back - [ WHEN, she's not going to let him get hurt beyond repair ] - I'll add some protection runes to the stitching, just to help.

Huh.

[ he hadn't been expecting it to be much. although it doesn't obscure everything, being invisible, or hard to see, is good enough for luke. he's always been out in the open, the boy with the bright blue eyes and the ugly scar marring the right side of his face. he has always been loud and intrusive and reckless, but he supposes hermione already knows that. she knows he's not the type to hide behind a guy who can carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and claim victory for a dangerous task when he'd done nothing to deserve the glory. ]

[ still, it's impressive as hades music collection. ]

My dad would kill to claim he invented this. [ just as hermes likes to claim almost everything that becomes popular, but that's neither here nor there for the moment. he'd thought to forgo the cloak, but he had a feeling that hermione had given it to him for the sole purpose of it being worn in a manner that luke liked. and she's so much as confirmed it, giving him something that wasn't just a bland piece of clothing to keep him warm during the winter. ] I'm glad I thought to bring it. I'm going to need it.

[ he's quiet for a moment. ]

[ his voice is a tease, smile evident in the warmth of his tone. ] So you approve of my sneaking and you think I'm very clever. Didn't know you felt that way, Hermione.

[ If Hermione had even an inkling of what Luke was thinking, anything about his scars being ugly, of being too reckless, she'd have stern words for him. There's far more to Luke than he seems to imagine, more than he dares to admit to himself or to anyone else, and Hermione wants to make sure that he knows, that he's aware of how special and important he is- not just to her, but to others as well. The things they've both lost in this world are immeasurable, but at the same time they still have each other.

They would always have each other.

Huffing a noise, Hermione tries to bite back the insufferable, know-it-all twist of her voice. ] Well, your father would be wrong, wouldn't he? It's magic from my world, not the Demigod world, thank you very much. [ Plus, from what she's heard? She's not at all fond of Luke's father and were she to ever meet him she would likely shove him one way or another, verbally or with her hands.

The cloak was a present, true, but that doesn't stop her rolling her eyes. ] Did I say that you were clever? Really... Hm. [ She's teasing, too, her voice soft and fond, cheeks a little pink as she's distracted from her own problems. ] I think I've made how I feel very clear, Mr Castellan.

That I'm really clever, I know.

[ he'd puff out his chest, but he thinks his tone carries his amusement well enough without the action she won't see. ]

[ it's a hell of a lot easier for him to simply ignore what she's saying. remaining oblivious is easier, even though luke knows knowing everything, being able to dissect and even untangle things, has kept him safe for the years he's been fighting a war that he hadn't ever wanted to enlist in. the one that he battles in the drabwurld isn't the one the monarchs have been fighting for centuries. it's his with his own self-worth. ]

[ it's funny how he can come to almost forgive himself for clarisse when he wouldn't have done so during the first year of him being in the drabwurld, but he still can't see who he truly is from beyond the tip of his own nose. ]

I'm the cleverest demigod of my age. You can admit it, Hermione. We're friends. Who am I going to tell?

Oh, of course. I wouldn't suggest anything else, now, would I.

[ This is far easier than the fretting, she's sure, but at the same time there's something inside of her that feels tight and uncertain. She doesn't want Luke to get hurt, but at the same time she knows both of them are rather in the same position - leaders of the Citadel, ranked highly in the Seelie court and known supporters, fighters, allies... They're both in danger, but there's no way she would let him get hurt if she could protect him.

She does laugh, though, a soft noise, and Hermione smiles before she shakes her head, fondly, to herself. ]

The Brightest Witch and the Cleverest Demigod. We make quite the pair, don't we?

[ And if she's blushing then it's an audio conversation and he can't see. ]

Sounds pretty cool to me. I might get it on my business card.

[ the pair — luke's always just been the hermes kid who failed his quest and got a scar from ladon to remind him of it. he'll always be the lost soul who tried to raze olympus and was the pawn to kronos. every pairing he's been apart of, from kronos and him to he and thalia and annabeth, it's always ended in rubble. the latter, the one with thalia, was one he had always wanted to survive the test of time. ]

[ but the brightest witch and the cleverest demigod? it doesn't have a bad ring to it at all. ]

[ he smiles, it evident in the warmth of his voice. ] But you admit it. I'm pretty clever. [ at getting himself in a lot of danger, but also finding his way out of it. he leaves a pause there, almost hesitant to even continue; his voice lowers, ] You just have to trust me that the type of stupid I want to be is clever, too.

[ truthfully, he's trying to convince himself of that. ]

What else does your business card say? Known prat and danger to himself, oddly charming?

[ She's teasing, gently, of course, again and again, and it bears repeating; it is all a tease, a gentle game, and she nudges at him to try and hear more of his laughter. To her, Luke is simply who he is, Luke Castellan, the boy that had held her, that had let her comfort him, that had been tender with her as she was with him. She's careful as she speaks with him if only because she worries her heart might get a little ahead of her, at least here.

They're a pair, with their scars and their minds and their positions. It gives her an odd little thrill to think of it; Marquis and Marchioness, Brightest and Cleverest, marred and marked. Luke and Hermione, friends for so long and bonded as only the Drabwurld could offer.

It's hard to fight back her laughter, her smile widening. ] I trust you to be intelligent in your silliness, yes. I've seen you do it before, and I'll accept that. It doesn't mean I won't be here for you if you need it, of course. I'm always just a phonecall away.

[ he thinks to tell her his business card would say he's incredibly charming and very handsome, 6'2", gemini, a lover of long walks and dogs, and he can listen to taylor swift unflinchingly. but he doesn't think to say it. it's a little hard to joke when she gives him a sentiment that feels heavier than usual. it means more, even though it's never changed over the years. maybe losing clarisse and gaining jason back has given him some perspective, or maybe luke's taking this whole family thing to heart more than he had before. ]

[ he has people to lose now, just as he had before. but the kids at camp hadn't stuck by him, not like chris had, not like clarisse had while she was here in the drabwurld. ]

[ she doesn't say anything specific that sees his own joke disperse in his hands. he's out in la llorona, about to do something stupid, and the joking and the ease in which she settles his nerves he refuses to acknowledge are on fire with anxiety is something he'll never forget, but this isn't the time or place for him to wallow in what he finds to be too heavy in her statement. luke's lost so much over the last few months and gained too much that he doesn't really know how to cope with it. ]

[ and his self-destructive ways have shifted from destroying himself to blowing up unseelie outposts. ]

Yeah. [ his voice sounds a little sad. ] I know. Could use a few more friends these days. I've got a lot of cards to give out, you know.

[ This was the thing about her and Luke, she thinks. Even now, with the gentle silence that rolls along between their words, the way that they pause, there's still enough that she feels the warmth inside of her - they don't have to talk, they don't have to say anything, really. She can just sit here and know that he's on the other side, that he might sit up and tell her a joke or something ridiculous.

Hermione knows that Luke is here for her, just as much as she is here for him. It's hard to admit, sometimes, but they do have each other - and they do need one another too. They might not admit it, but it's true.

If she could go after him and stand at his side, she would. They're both in position of powers, now, they're both dedicated, but she knows he can handle this. She knows that he can take care of himself, for the most part, and she knows that he would come to her if he really wanted something that she could offer.

She can wait. ]

Then let me have a few. I have three houses, you know, I could have one in each.

[ she sounds like martha. she sounds like his cows. she sounds a little like his foxes, if he's to take them stealing his things as their own request of let me have a few. luke hadn't realised he had been surrounded by friends until he had lost almost all of them. it hadn't been anyone else but martha and george who had helped him make his shitty posters to hang up around the citadel and caer glaem, with the foxes collecting any supplies they needed as george made him misspell cinnamon for a reason luke doesn't even know. ]

[ sometimes luke forgets. it's easy for him to, being alone for so long, but sometimes he simply forgets he has people in the drabwurld. isolation is more of a comfort to him than anything, but he thinks he avoids his diary to write to hal for the very reason he sidesteps his friends and leaps over fences and runs along the back ways to certain places. ]

[ when he loses people, he'll feel it less if he's not so attached to them. clarisse had burrowed beneath his skin in the exact same way hermione has, and luke — he doesn't like it one bit. ]

My cards don't need your pity, Hermione. [ his voice is a laugh, but he tries to keep it down. ] Don't you think that's a little much? A bunch of shitty cards cluttering up your drawers?

[ but he doesn't leave her a breath to answer. ]

Hey! Think the Unseelie might appreciate a few? I'm thinking I could customise them. Print a big σκατά! on about several hundred.

[ The thing is, Hermione just cares; she cares so much that she feels a little bit like she might end up suffocating from it. It hurts, to think that her friends are going to suffer, that they're going to be hurt, or sad, or that she won't be there to help them or support them or... Do anything. She wants to do everything she can for them, everything that she can to make sure they're safe and... That's impossible, isn't it?

It is in the Drabwurld. She can't fight back against the knowledge of what the war is, of what it means for herself and all teh people she cares about. It bubbles inside of her and she tilts her head up to gaze at the ceiling, silent for a long moment.

Hermione wishes she was there, with Luke, at his side, right now. But she's not. She's in the Citadel and he's in the North and she feels it batter at her chest. ]

It's not pity if I'm offering to hand them out or put them places, is it? [ She huffs out a little laugh. ] They're not - uh, language - they're not bad if they're from you.

[ She does manage to sneak it in once he's done talking, though. ]

And what does that mean in English, Mr. Castellan?

Uh …

[ it's a nice distraction from what he's about to do that he feels as though she's scolding him good-naturedly. it reminds him of the moments where he had let a curse slip before he realised he may need to look into other languages to express himself or simply not swear at all. ]

[ he laughs, slightly awkward, as though he's been court with his hand in the cookie jar, and in amusement, liking that this feels normal when he doesn't feel like the person he had been two months ago. ]

Have a really bad hair day?

[ he doesn't sound convincing at all, not with how his voice pitches up at the end. ]

Oh, I'm sure.

[ She's trying not to sound too stern, really, she is, but there are some things she can't quite manage. Either way, she fights back her laughter, shaking her head and fighting to not tell him off - because it's obvious he's sneaking around with his many languages to tease her with it.

This is better. This is her and Luke, the set of them together, and Hermione closes her eyes. ]

Let them all know they have bad hair days, then. Drop them from the skies if you have to.

[ A pause, then - ]

With decent language.

[ but luke wishes to inform them in explicit description of just how horrible their hair is. he needs his chosen adjectives, the nouns he thinks to be the most succinct, and those specifically selected words to rile them into anger. luke knows he's talented enough to not resort to cursing, but hermione doesn't need to know that. ]

[ he sounds amused, if taken aback a little. ] Are you going to insist on proofing everything I write before I send it? [ he truthfully wouldn't be surprised if she chose to take on such a monumental task. he could've used her a few days ago with his posters. george had been a poor editor, in luke's humble opinion. ]

[ he doesn't think to tell her that, though. all those posters are gone. the snakes, foxes, and dogs had taken care of it, and when they had failed, his cows had politely asked some natives to recycle, and even taught them how if they found themselves clueless on what that process entailed. ]

[ there isn't much of a pause when he pulls a face, tone twisting as he teases and drags out the very first word, ] Because that's going to get a little awkward.

For spelling and grammar? Maybe. But if there's bad language I reserve the right to deny my part in checking it over.

[ Isn't this the way things should be? The easiness that comes between two people that care about one another, the friendship that they share - and she feels lighter for it, the kind of lightness that Luke has always brought her. She can remember the moon, Samhain, the losses they've shared, sitting with him and his snakes, and it makes her feel so much better that it's hard to find the words for it.

She does laugh, though, a little, light sound, and she huffs out a little noise. At least she can still be scolding, even if she's teasing him and pushing him a little too far. ]

I promise I don't need to proofread everything. Just posters you might put up in Caer Glaem or the Citadel. Marchioness' duty.

[ then he supposes most of his letters will consist of bad language. luke may be the son of the god of literature, but unlike his father, he's the demigod who makes it a point to never take another person's shit. if it means he needs to get a little crass and curt in his letters, then he thinks himself to be a good marquis. or something. this gig isn't him; he doesn't even think he's doing it right by being out in la llorona, biding his time to blow the outpost to smithereens. ]

Oh, good. There's these love letters I write and … [ he pulls a face, one he knows she can't see. there's a pause. his voice is teasing, if a little on the know-it-all side. ] Well. I don't think they're something a Marchioness like yourself should ever see.

Love letters to the Unseelie? You could get in trouble, you know. [ A part of her wonders if that is a joke, if he really is writing love letters to someone on the Unseelie side or if this is just another game of his, maybe love letters that are more along the lines of teasing than anything else. She hesitates, staring down at her locket before she tilts her head up and swallows.

It's none of her business anyway. If Luke wants to be romantic with someone on the Unseelie side he just has to be careful.

Either way, she shakes her head. ] I'll let you keep your dirty letters to yourself, I think. I'm not going within ten feet of them.

[ she's as easy to rile as thalia, but luke's never really had the chance to do so after she'd been turned into a tree. it's easy to fall back into the shoes of stirring someone up, just as long as they're not cursing him with some spell or to the river styx. it's all in good fun, him making things up, being a general pain in the ass. ]

[ it makes him feel better, less anxious, less like he's doing something wrong by not acting right now when his impulse is telling him to simply wreck the forest when his mind's telling him to be patient and wait. ]

[ the smile's evident in his voice. ] What if they're for you?

For me? [ For a moment, she's quiet, the silence rolling over her as she hesitates, trying to let her mind wrap around the idea. It's obvious that it's a joke - why would Luke write her a love letter? What would be the point, other than to tease her? - but the idea of it makes her pause and she blinks, trying to let it settle in her mind before she musters some kind of response.

Finally, she finds her voice again and she swallows, sitting up a little straighter. What a strange game they're playing, the two of them, and Hermione shifts before she speaks, trying not to let her embarrassment and her nerves flick into her voice whatsoever. ]

Then I definitely shouldn't proof read them, should I?

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