Acylius/Aelia: Romance (lover100 Prompt #001)
TITLE: Romance
FANDOM: Insektors
PAIRING: Acylius/Aelia
RATING: G
SUMMARY: Acylius discovers, to his dismay, that romantic traditions among Joyces and Yuks are very different things.
WARNINGS: None, really.
NOTES: Thank God this is finally done. I've been working on it on and off since January! (The rock described is bornite, also known as peacock ore. Although reddish-brown when fresh, it reacts with air and tarnishes to the colours mentioned.)
Acylius arrived in Flower City just in time to see the Koal Kloud Kreator start to lurch erratically. A cheer went up from the dragonflies circling above the machine and its dark fog of koal juice, and Acylius gratefully slowed his frantic flight. It looked as though Fulgor and the others had everything under control.
He concentrated for the moment on hovering in place, letting his head fall onto his chest and sucking in deep breaths. His blood was pounding so hard in his ears that he almost missed the way that the chorus of cheering suddenly cut off.
Almost. Acylius looked up.
The Koal Kloud Kreator had started to spin in midair, still lurching randomly. The dragonflies were scattering to avoid being hit, but there was one Joyce who wasn’t trying to get away. Acylius’s heart leaped into his mouth as he saw Aelia flying in from the fringes of the conflict. He dived forward, but he knew that he wouldn’t make it in time to stop her reaching the machine’s erratic orbit. What was she doing?
An orange figure appeared from a hatch on the Kloud Kreator’s domed exterior, answering Acylius’s question. Fulgor swayed from side to side, trying to balance enough to leap clear of the machine, and Acylius forced his wings to beat a little faster. He was closer to the Kloud Kreator than Aelia, and his smaller wings gave him greater manoeuvrability. He stood a better chance of helping Fulgor get off that machine before its floundering took it down into the koal fog below. The underside was already picking up a patina of dark slime.
There was the briefest of pauses in the Kloud Kreator’s motions, and Fulgor leaped. For a moment, it seemed that he might get away cleanly. Then the machine reeled, tried to heave itself into a loop, and dropped like a stone. One of the wings clipped Fulgor on its way down, carving a gap in the fog which the Joyce plummeted into.
Aelia screamed her brother’s name, but the fog was billowing towards her and forcing her to retreat.
Acylius dived after Fulgor, plunging down into the darkness. He could see the Joyce below him, Fulgor’s wings completely still as he dropped. Acylius’s throat closed. He tucked his wings tightly against his back and let himself fall, hands reaching for his friend. The distance between them closed, but the ground was coming up fast. Even if he managed to catch up to Fulgor, Acylius wasn’t sure if he would be able to pull out of his dive quickly enough to save them from a hard landing. He stretched his arms further, fingers brushing Fulgor’s arm.
And then suddenly he had a solid grip. Acylius spread his wings, gasping in pain as they snapped taut against the air. Their speed immediately lessened, but they were too close to the ground for Acylius to bring them back up-and the way that they were positioned now, Fulgor would still take the brunt of the impact. Acylius set his mouth with grim determination and hauled his friend up with the last of his strength-just in time for them both to hit the ground with equal force.
The impact tried to jar Acylius’s hands loose, but the Yuk prince clung with every scrap of stubbornness he possessed. He and Fulgor went tumbling, over and over through the soft soil until they came to a stop against what must have been a flower stalk. For a moment, Acylius just lay there. His head spun and he ached all over. Fulgor was sprawled half on top of him. It felt like some sort of comment was called for.
After several long moments of deep thought, Acylius managed, “Ouch.” And after another few moments, he added, “I don’t think we should do that again.”
Fulgor said nothing.
Acylius lifted one hand to shake his friend’s shoulder. “Fulgor,” he said weakly. “You’re rather heavy. Could you please get off me?”
Still no response.
Icy fear surged through Acylius, and he used the newfound energy to squirm out from underneath his friend. “Fulgor? Fulgor!” The Joyce’s head lolled. Acylius knew that he should do something, but what? Nobody had bothered to teach him any kind of first aid!
Fulgor groaned, eyelids fluttering. “What…hit me?” he asked.
Acylius could have laughed with relief, but his brief panic had left him breathless. Instead, he hauled Fulgor onto his feet and hugged his friend as tightly as he could. The Joyce leaned hard against him for balance, so much so that they nearly tumbled in a heap again. Acylius didn’t care. He was just glad that Fulgor was alright.
Behind him, someone cleared their throat. Acylius loosened his hold on Fulgor slightly, but didn’t let go-his friend was still unsteady on his feet-and looked around. Aelia was standing a short distance away, her expression a complicated mixture of relief and...something else. Acylius couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Hello,” she said, her voice sounding unusually…controlled.
Acylius felt Fulgor stiffen. Then the Joyce started to squirm. Startled, Acylius stepped back. “Fulgor, what-”
Devoid of support, Fulgor swayed. Acylius stepped forward again, arms out to catch his friend, but Fulgor warded him off with frantically flailing hands. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he exclaimed to Aelia-just as the flailing proved too much for his already precarious balance. With a pronounced thud, Fulgor hit the ground again.
Complete silence reigned for about ten seconds. Then, his voice muffled by the dirt, Fulgor said, “Ow.”
Aelia sighed and fluttered over to kneel beside her brother. “You should have let Acylius catch you,” she said. “Roll over. I need to look at your eyes.”
Wincing, Fulgor rolled slowly onto his back. “I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea,” he said.
“The wrong idea about what?” asked Acylius, thoroughly baffled.
“Don’t worry about it, Acylius,” said Aelia. She held up three fingers in front of Fulgor’s eyes. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“How can you be so relaxed about this?” asked Fulgor. “He was hugging me!”
Aelia sighed. “How many fingers, Fulgor?”
“What’s wrong with hugging you?” asked Acylius, even more confused. Joyces were far more emotionally expressive than Yuk. How could hugging be taboo?
“It’s-”
“Fulgor,” snapped Aelia.
“Fine, three fingers. Look, Acylius, it’s just not something that friends do, okay?” Fulgor tried to prop himself up on one elbow.
“Just…trust me on this. Don’t go around hugging people.”
“You make this sound like something I make a habit of,” huffed Acylius. He folded his arms, feeling hurt and a little embarrassed. Clearly he had made some sort of gaffe, but there was no need for Fulgor to make such a fuss. “Yuks aren’t encouraged to be free about such things, you know.”
Fulgor spluttered. “I hope not!”
“Fulgor, stop it. You know it must not mean the same to Acylius as it does to us.” Aelia’s voice was developing a definite edge. Acylius could certainly understand that. His own anger was starting to rise.
“Perhaps Fulgor would care to enlighten me as to what it does mean,” he said, a little coolly.
Fulgor opened his mouth, but Aelia cut him off. “Among Joyces, hugging is an indication of a very close and trusting relationship,” she said. “You can’t fly when someone is hugging you.”
Acylius felt himself stand up a little straighter. “I see.” Well, that stung. He’d thought that he and Fulgor were close. Clearly he was wrong.
“Oh, for-” Fulgor groaned, getting slowly to his feet. “It’s a couple thing.” Acylius felt his mouth drop open. As the implications of that statement sank in, he felt his face heat-and not with anger. A couple thing. And Aelia had seen...
Oh, soggy fog and maudlin mist. No wonder she had sounded so strange.
As though he hadn’t made Acylius’s mistake abundantly clear already, Fulgor went on pointedly, “You should be hugging Aelia, not me.”
“I understand, thank you,” said Acylius stiffly.
“Just as long as we’re clear.”
“Oh, stop it,” snapped Aelia, rounding on her brother. “You don’t get to lecture Acylius about Joyce romantic behaviour. Not after the music session. And especially not after the tour around the flowers.”
Acylius’s stomach dropped. “Those were romantic gestures as well?” he asked. Aelia had seemed a little cross both times, but he’d thought it was just part of her usual annoyance with Fulgor.
Aelia flinched, as though she had forgotten that he was there. She turned to him, but she didn’t meet his eyes. “Listening to Fulgor play wasn’t,” she said. Acylius had the impression that she was choosing her words very carefully. “The flowers were…pushing it a little.”
Acylius covered his face with his hands. “Aelia, I don’t know what to say-”
“You don’t have to say anything. I know that you didn’t understand.”
But you were annoyed, and I didn’t ask why. The words utterly failed to leave Acylius’s mouth; he couldn’t get them to fit past the guilt that was closing his throat. He should have asked. But he had been enjoying himself, and he hadn’t wanted to spoil things by triggering another sibling quarrel. Aelia and Fulgor always seemed to be bickering about something or other...
Acylius swallowed, letting his hands fall away from his face. That was no excuse. He should have asked.
“Look, there’s an easy solution to this,” said Fulgor, into the tightly stretched silence. “Acylius, you just go over there and hug Yaya, and this will all-”
“Don’t you dare.” Aelia sucked in a thin breath, like there wasn’t enough room inside her for anger and air. “Don’t you dare, Fulgor. You can’t just tell someone to…to be romantic and expect it to fix everything!” Her voice shook on the words be romantic. Acylius’s heart clenched painfully, and he took a step towards her with hand outstretched.
“Aelia, I’m so sorry-”
She shook her head fiercely. “No! Don’t apologize. It isn’t your fault. It’s Fulgor’s.”
“I didn’t mean-” Fulgor finally seemed to have grasped the depths of his mistake, but Aelia clearly wasn’t in the mood to accept an apology.
“Of course you didn’t mean it,” she said, with bitter, angry resignation. “You never mean it. But you spoil things anyway. You always do.”
“Don’t be like that. It’s not like you can never do those things with Acylius-”
“And how do you think it will feel, knowing that you did those things with him first? It won’t be-” She stopped, took another deep breath. Then, softly, she said, “It won’t be the same.” She turned away from them both. “I’m going to start working on patching paint. A lot of the bees and the dragonflies got caught in the Kloud, and they won’t be able to fly until they’ve got their kolors back.”
Acylius took another step towards her. “Aelia-”
She wavered for a moment, but didn’t turn back around. “Thank you for coming to help, Acylius. Could you make sure that Fulgor makes it to the springs? He might be a little dizzy.”
Acylius watched her helplessly. Her wings were beating unevenly, a slow and erratic rhythm that he suspected was unconscious. He noticed that her own kolors were slightly dimmed by the dissipating Kloud. At least, he hoped it was the result of the Kloud. Did Joyces lose their kolors when they were upset?
“I will,” he said. It seemed like the only safe thing to say.
She hesitated a moment as though trying to think of a reply, then nodded once and took off into the clearing sky. Acylius watched her until she was out of sight, then groaned and buried his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry,” said Fulgor from behind him. He sounded as despondent as Acylius had ever heard him. “I really didn’t mean to mess things up for you both. I was just trying to get Aelia to make some kind of move.”
Acylius thought about being angry. The situation seemed to call for it. But he couldn’t quite muster the energy: he was tired from his desperate flight to Flower City and his equally desperate dive to save Fulgor, not to mention the emotional rollercoaster of the last twenty minutes. He didn’t seem to have any strength left for anger.
He did, however, have the strength to be sure of one thing: somehow, he would have to make this up to Aelia. His ignorance may have been genuine, but so was her hurt.
“I must make this right,” he said aloud.
“I’ll help,” said Fulgor eagerly, but Acylius shook his head.
“Fulgor, I mean no offence, but you did play a large part in causing this problem. I think it would be for the best if I fixed it myself.”
“And how are you going to do that?” asked Fulgor, sounding more curious than miffed.
“I don’t know yet. But I will think of something.” Acylius shook himself and turned to his friend. “In the meantime, we should go over to the springs so that you can get clean.”
Fulgor snorted. “I’m not the only one who could do with a scrub.”
Acylius looked down at himself, realising for the first time that he was also lightly coated in koal juice. “Thorns and briars,” he muttered, regarding the patina mournfully. “I don’t suppose this will wear off over time?” He didn’t want to waste time cleaning off the muck. He wanted to be alone so that he could think about what to do for Aelia.
“No, it just dries into a black crust. You can get some interesting effects if you scrape it off then, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Scrape it off. The phrase triggered a memory, and Acylius felt his antennae stand straight up. It was perfect. He’d just have to find it again…
“Acylius?”
“I know what to do,” said Acylius, feeling slightly light-headed with sheer relief. “Come on. We don’t have much time.”
“What do you mean, ‘we don’t have much time’?” demanded Fulgor, baffled. “It’s only noon!”
“Yes, but there’s something that I need to find, back at the Stump. I know that I hid it somewhere, but I haven’t dared to bring it out in…” Acylius paused, trying to remember. It had been one of his earliest attempts at tunnelling… “Well, a very long time.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” asked Fulgor with concern. “I mean, we hit the ground pretty hard, and you’re not making any sense.”
“Never you mind.” Acylius sprang into the air. “The only thing that you need to worry about is scrubbing off the koal juice. Can you fly?”
Fulgor fluttered his wings experimentally. Their beating seemed slower than usual. “I think so,” he said, voice slightly strained, “But I might need your help.” He gave a little hop that did absolutely nothing to get him airborne.
Acylius extended a hand, then hesitated. “This isn’t…”
“No, this is normal if you’re helping someone.” Acylius still hesitated, and Fulgor made an exasperated sound. “If you don’t believe me, just look around you! And do it fast. If we don’t hurry there won’t be any room left in the springs.” Acylius glanced up. Around them, he could see other Joyces rising into the air in twos and threes. The karbon-darkened Joyces held the hands and forelimbs of their unscathed friends. Acylius relaxed slightly and reached down. Fulgor took his hand.
“Are you going to question everything we do, now?” the Joyce asked, as they headed in the direction of the springs.
“Possibly,” said Acylius. “You really don’t have anyone to blame but yourself, you know.”
Fulgor made a face at him.
The sun was visibly dipping towards the horizon by the time that Acylius returned to Flower City. It hadn’t been hard to sneak back in; the aftermath of another failed attempt on the Great Flower was always chaotic. The guards were too busy helping Krabouic and Kaboche manoeuvre the crumpled cockpit of the Koal Kloud Kreator back into the hanger to notice Acylius slipping through the unguarded gates. Finding the item had been more of a challenge. Still, he’d only had to check the sites of four or five of his earlier excavations before he found it-slightly grimy, but still sparkling even in the dim light of the torches.
He snuck back out again while Teknocratus and the guards were trying to open up the mangled cockpit so that the pilots could escape. From the shouted complaints, Kaboche was sitting in Krabouic’s lap to avoid the spinning blade wielded by the engineer, and elbows were proving to be a problem.
Joyceland was only mildly less chaotic as Acylius glided down to the Great Flower. The remains of the machine had been removed, but its crash landing had bent and broken a swathe of plants, and the Kloud itself had left a dark stain on the landscape. The bright dots of Joyce workers swarmed over it, doing…well, Acylius wasn’t sure. Something to save the flowers, he hoped.
Aelia’s bright blue wings were not among the workers.
Acylius turned his gift over in his hands as he slowly made his way through the quiet corridors of Flower City. He’d removed the worst of the dirt, but hadn’t dared to scrub too hard in case it removed the strange, shiny tarnish. Would Aelia like it? It was, after all…well, it was a rock. An unusual rock, but…a rock. Even with its peculiar, shifting patina, it lacked the grace and beauty of the flowers that Aelia had shown him.
She showed you living creations of unparalleled wonder, and you’re giving her a piece of rock that you dug up and clung to because it was the first colourful thing you’d seen in the Stump. Hardly comparable in value, is it?
Acylius shook his head violently, like he could dislodge the thought with movement. It was too late to second guess himself; this was the only acceptable path forward. All the others involved asking Fulgor for advice about Joyce courtship, and that was just not going to happen. Acylius would have to succeed or fail on his own merits.
He hoped, rather desperately, that he had some.
The door to Aelia’s laboratory was before him. Acylius swallowed, took a deep breath, and very cautiously turned the handle. The click of the latch sliding free seemed very loud.
“Aelia?” he called.
There was a gasp, a scrape, and then a ringing thump as something hit the floor. Acylius winced. This wasn’t exactly an auspicious beginning to the conversation.
“May I-” he began.
“Come on in, Acylius.” Aelia sounded tired and resigned, and Acylius’s heart sank all the way to his toes. It was on his lips to say that he could come back later, if she was busy, but he forced the words down and pushed the door open. Aelia was kneeling on the floor, head under her bench, apparently trying to retrieve something that had rolled underneath. Acylius tucked his gift behind his back.
“You’ve…been busy, I see,” he said, inanely. The bench was covered in a dozen shades of powdered pollen, and a dozen more of half-dried pigment. It looked like the dragonflies had used it for bombing practice.
Aelia came out from underneath it, holding a stained pestle in one hand. She stood up slowly. “I should clean up,” she said, not turning around. “I think I’ve made enough paint to last the rest of the year.” She gingerly placed the pestle in a mortar half-full of pollen powder, then moved the mortar to one of the bench’s few remaining clean patches.
“I’m sure it will be useful,” said Acylius, trying to sound enthusiastic. His gift felt as though it was trying to slip from his hands. He tightened his grip until its surface dug into his palms.
“One way or another,” said Aelia.
Acylius winced.
He was almost sure that he hadn’t made a sound, but Aelia hurried on as though she’d heard him. “I mean, we’re almost guaranteed to run out during the Festival of Kolors, plus there’s always some kind of unexpected occasion that needs extra decoration. And you’d be surprised how much ordinary wear and tear-”
Acylius steeled himself. “Aelia,” he ventured.
She slumped. “I’m sorry about before,” she said.
Acylius blinked. “But, Aelia-”
“You couldn’t be expected to realise what…those things meant.”
“Aelia-”
“I should have said something, or at least had a word with Fulgor. It wasn’t fair of him to keep misleading you, and I should have put a stop to it.”
“Aelia-”
“I’ll understand if you don’t-”
Acylius lurched forward and put a hand on her arm. “Aelia!”
She turned to look at him. Acylius swallowed. “I knew that you were annoyed with Fulgor for what he was doing,” he said. “I should have asked why. You’re right that I didn’t know what those actions meant, but even if it was unintentional…I still hurt you. I really can’t express how sorry I am for that.”
Aelia shook her head. “I still should have said something,” she said, stubbornly.
“And I should have asked, and Fulgor should have known better,” said Acylius, trying to smile. “Perhaps we could all accept an equal share of the blame?” She looked like she might try to keep arguing, so he hurried on. “Actually, I-I have something for you.” Swallowing hard against the anxious tightness of his throat, Acylius brought his gift out from behind his back and held it out to Aelia. Her eyes widened. Acylius tilted the rock so that she could see the way the colours shifted with movement, green-blue becoming blue becoming purple, with a few edges glowing gold.
“Oh, Acylius,” she said, voice hushed with something that sounded very like awe. “It’s beautiful.”
Acylius’s knees went weak with relief. “It’s a Yuk courtship tradition, to give your, um, object of affection a special rock,” he said. “It’s usually something rare, a fragment of coal or a piece of iron ore, but… I didn’t think you would like those.”
Aelia gently took the rock from his hands, turning it over and watching the shifting colours with rapt fascination. “I didn’t know that rocks could have colours like this,” she said. “And this iridescent effect, I’ve never seen anything like it!”
“I found it during one of my first attempts at tunnelling,” Acylius said. “It wasn’t like this when I dug it out, I would have noticed. I think something about being out in the air, rather than under the ground, made it turn these colours.”
Aelia glanced up. “How could that be?” The question was more curious than sceptical.
“I don’t know,” admitted Acylius. “Teknocratus said that the colours could be scraped off, but it would have to be kept underwater to stop them from coming back. I don’t know if that would have worked, I took it back and buried it again before they could try.” He reached out and ran one finger over the stone’s rough surface. “It was the first colourful thing I had seen in the Stump. I couldn’t bear the thought that it might be ruined, even if stopping that meant I wouldn’t be able to see it for myself.”
The silence seemed to stretch out. Afraid that he’d said something wrong, Acylius glanced up to find that Aelia was staring at him with peculiar intensity. “Um,” he said.
She set the rock down on her workbench and fluttered towards him. “Acylius,” she said, very seriously, “I want to hug you. Is that okay?”
His mouth dropped open. “What? I mean-yes, certainly, if that’s what you want, but I don’t see-”
The rest of his sentence was cut off as Aelia’s arms slipped around his waist and held him tightly. At least, it seemed to be tightly-perhaps that it was just that all of Acylius’s breath seemed to have left him. His entire field of vision was filled with the marbled purples and blues of Aelia’s wings. He also had no idea where to put his hands.
Aelia seemed to have read his mind. “Here.” Gently, she took one of his arms and tucked it around her own waist. He could feel the edges of her wings fluttering against his forearm as he copied her movement with his other arm. She had also tucked her forehead into his shoulder-her antennae brushed the side of his head. Tentatively, Acylius mirrored the movement. She smelled like pollen and perfume.
“That’s it,” he heard her say, over the pounding of his heart. “You’re a natural.”
They stood like that for-well, Acylius wasn’t sure how long. Certainly not long enough. He could happily have spent days holding Aelia-or hours, at the very least. But he felt Aelia drawing away, and reluctantly released his own hold on her. The sudden feeling of isolation was considerably lessened when she took both of his hands in hers.
“That was…amazing,” he said, breathlessly.
She smiled at him. “It was, wasn’t it?”
Acylius glanced over at the rock he’d brought, still setting on Aelia’s workbench. Placed among the bright splashes of pigment, it looked dirty and washed out. “I feel like my gift hardly compares.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Aelia. “I love it. I can’t wait to show it to Papa-I bet he’s never seen anything like it, either.” Acylius hummed, still unconvinced, and Aelia squeezed his hands. “Acylius. I really am glad that you brought it to me. You keep showing me how much more there is to the Yuks than I ever thought.”
Acylius looked back at her. “I do?”
“Of course you do! I never would have guessed that Yuks had their own courtship traditions.” She ducked her head, then gave him a slightly sheepish smile. “I didn’t really think about it. It seems odd to think of, but the underlying principle is the same as the gifts we give-something special or unusual.”
Acylius blinked. “I didn’t think of it like that.”
“The actions are different, but the reasons are the same,” said Aelia. “I hope you’ll tell me about the other traditions as well?” The hopeful curiosity in her voice made Acylius smile.
“Of course I will,” he said. He glanced down at their joined hands. “Though I quite like the Joyce traditions, as well.”
“Me too,” said Aelia. She made a face. “I guess that Fulgor didn’t spoil this for us after all.”
“No,” said Acylius, firmly. “It would be impossible for anything to compare to that.” Hugging Fulgor had been an act of sheer relief. Hugging Aelia was…he didn’t know a word that would fully describe that feeling of joy and awe and wonder. He would have to ask, later.
“I suppose I’ll have to tell him that,” muttered Aelia.
“Not now, I hope?”
“Absolutely not. He can stew in it for a while longer.”
“I quite agree.” Acylius was still feeling a little cross at being deceived, even if it had been with good intentions. Though that did trigger a thought… He squeezed Aelia’s hands gently. “If it isn’t too soon to suggest it…I would like it if you would show me around your flowers. I don’t think that Fulgor fully appreciates them.”
“I know he doesn’t,” said Aelia. “Almost everything he told you was complete nonsense.”
Acylius sighed. “I suppose I should have known.”
Aelia shook her head. “Honestly, apart from him misleading you, that was what annoyed me the most. And I don’t even know if he was making it up because he thought it was funny, or because he really wasn’t paying attention when I told him about them.”
“Because he thought it was funny, I hope,” said Acylius. “But I can certainly promise that I will pay full attention.”
“I know you will,” said Aelia affectionately. “But it’s a bit late to go today. The sun will have set, and most of the flowers will be closed. I suppose that I could play some of my own music for you, but…” Her hands slid up Acylius’s arms. “I’d rather hug you again.”
Acylius slid his arms around her waist. “Happy to oblige.”
FANDOM: Insektors
PAIRING: Acylius/Aelia
RATING: G
SUMMARY: Acylius discovers, to his dismay, that romantic traditions among Joyces and Yuks are very different things.
WARNINGS: None, really.
NOTES: Thank God this is finally done. I've been working on it on and off since January! (The rock described is bornite, also known as peacock ore. Although reddish-brown when fresh, it reacts with air and tarnishes to the colours mentioned.)
Acylius arrived in Flower City just in time to see the Koal Kloud Kreator start to lurch erratically. A cheer went up from the dragonflies circling above the machine and its dark fog of koal juice, and Acylius gratefully slowed his frantic flight. It looked as though Fulgor and the others had everything under control.
He concentrated for the moment on hovering in place, letting his head fall onto his chest and sucking in deep breaths. His blood was pounding so hard in his ears that he almost missed the way that the chorus of cheering suddenly cut off.
Almost. Acylius looked up.
The Koal Kloud Kreator had started to spin in midair, still lurching randomly. The dragonflies were scattering to avoid being hit, but there was one Joyce who wasn’t trying to get away. Acylius’s heart leaped into his mouth as he saw Aelia flying in from the fringes of the conflict. He dived forward, but he knew that he wouldn’t make it in time to stop her reaching the machine’s erratic orbit. What was she doing?
An orange figure appeared from a hatch on the Kloud Kreator’s domed exterior, answering Acylius’s question. Fulgor swayed from side to side, trying to balance enough to leap clear of the machine, and Acylius forced his wings to beat a little faster. He was closer to the Kloud Kreator than Aelia, and his smaller wings gave him greater manoeuvrability. He stood a better chance of helping Fulgor get off that machine before its floundering took it down into the koal fog below. The underside was already picking up a patina of dark slime.
There was the briefest of pauses in the Kloud Kreator’s motions, and Fulgor leaped. For a moment, it seemed that he might get away cleanly. Then the machine reeled, tried to heave itself into a loop, and dropped like a stone. One of the wings clipped Fulgor on its way down, carving a gap in the fog which the Joyce plummeted into.
Aelia screamed her brother’s name, but the fog was billowing towards her and forcing her to retreat.
Acylius dived after Fulgor, plunging down into the darkness. He could see the Joyce below him, Fulgor’s wings completely still as he dropped. Acylius’s throat closed. He tucked his wings tightly against his back and let himself fall, hands reaching for his friend. The distance between them closed, but the ground was coming up fast. Even if he managed to catch up to Fulgor, Acylius wasn’t sure if he would be able to pull out of his dive quickly enough to save them from a hard landing. He stretched his arms further, fingers brushing Fulgor’s arm.
And then suddenly he had a solid grip. Acylius spread his wings, gasping in pain as they snapped taut against the air. Their speed immediately lessened, but they were too close to the ground for Acylius to bring them back up-and the way that they were positioned now, Fulgor would still take the brunt of the impact. Acylius set his mouth with grim determination and hauled his friend up with the last of his strength-just in time for them both to hit the ground with equal force.
The impact tried to jar Acylius’s hands loose, but the Yuk prince clung with every scrap of stubbornness he possessed. He and Fulgor went tumbling, over and over through the soft soil until they came to a stop against what must have been a flower stalk. For a moment, Acylius just lay there. His head spun and he ached all over. Fulgor was sprawled half on top of him. It felt like some sort of comment was called for.
After several long moments of deep thought, Acylius managed, “Ouch.” And after another few moments, he added, “I don’t think we should do that again.”
Fulgor said nothing.
Acylius lifted one hand to shake his friend’s shoulder. “Fulgor,” he said weakly. “You’re rather heavy. Could you please get off me?”
Still no response.
Icy fear surged through Acylius, and he used the newfound energy to squirm out from underneath his friend. “Fulgor? Fulgor!” The Joyce’s head lolled. Acylius knew that he should do something, but what? Nobody had bothered to teach him any kind of first aid!
Fulgor groaned, eyelids fluttering. “What…hit me?” he asked.
Acylius could have laughed with relief, but his brief panic had left him breathless. Instead, he hauled Fulgor onto his feet and hugged his friend as tightly as he could. The Joyce leaned hard against him for balance, so much so that they nearly tumbled in a heap again. Acylius didn’t care. He was just glad that Fulgor was alright.
Behind him, someone cleared their throat. Acylius loosened his hold on Fulgor slightly, but didn’t let go-his friend was still unsteady on his feet-and looked around. Aelia was standing a short distance away, her expression a complicated mixture of relief and...something else. Acylius couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Hello,” she said, her voice sounding unusually…controlled.
Acylius felt Fulgor stiffen. Then the Joyce started to squirm. Startled, Acylius stepped back. “Fulgor, what-”
Devoid of support, Fulgor swayed. Acylius stepped forward again, arms out to catch his friend, but Fulgor warded him off with frantically flailing hands. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he exclaimed to Aelia-just as the flailing proved too much for his already precarious balance. With a pronounced thud, Fulgor hit the ground again.
Complete silence reigned for about ten seconds. Then, his voice muffled by the dirt, Fulgor said, “Ow.”
Aelia sighed and fluttered over to kneel beside her brother. “You should have let Acylius catch you,” she said. “Roll over. I need to look at your eyes.”
Wincing, Fulgor rolled slowly onto his back. “I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea,” he said.
“The wrong idea about what?” asked Acylius, thoroughly baffled.
“Don’t worry about it, Acylius,” said Aelia. She held up three fingers in front of Fulgor’s eyes. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“How can you be so relaxed about this?” asked Fulgor. “He was hugging me!”
Aelia sighed. “How many fingers, Fulgor?”
“What’s wrong with hugging you?” asked Acylius, even more confused. Joyces were far more emotionally expressive than Yuk. How could hugging be taboo?
“It’s-”
“Fulgor,” snapped Aelia.
“Fine, three fingers. Look, Acylius, it’s just not something that friends do, okay?” Fulgor tried to prop himself up on one elbow.
“Just…trust me on this. Don’t go around hugging people.”
“You make this sound like something I make a habit of,” huffed Acylius. He folded his arms, feeling hurt and a little embarrassed. Clearly he had made some sort of gaffe, but there was no need for Fulgor to make such a fuss. “Yuks aren’t encouraged to be free about such things, you know.”
Fulgor spluttered. “I hope not!”
“Fulgor, stop it. You know it must not mean the same to Acylius as it does to us.” Aelia’s voice was developing a definite edge. Acylius could certainly understand that. His own anger was starting to rise.
“Perhaps Fulgor would care to enlighten me as to what it does mean,” he said, a little coolly.
Fulgor opened his mouth, but Aelia cut him off. “Among Joyces, hugging is an indication of a very close and trusting relationship,” she said. “You can’t fly when someone is hugging you.”
Acylius felt himself stand up a little straighter. “I see.” Well, that stung. He’d thought that he and Fulgor were close. Clearly he was wrong.
“Oh, for-” Fulgor groaned, getting slowly to his feet. “It’s a couple thing.” Acylius felt his mouth drop open. As the implications of that statement sank in, he felt his face heat-and not with anger. A couple thing. And Aelia had seen...
Oh, soggy fog and maudlin mist. No wonder she had sounded so strange.
As though he hadn’t made Acylius’s mistake abundantly clear already, Fulgor went on pointedly, “You should be hugging Aelia, not me.”
“I understand, thank you,” said Acylius stiffly.
“Just as long as we’re clear.”
“Oh, stop it,” snapped Aelia, rounding on her brother. “You don’t get to lecture Acylius about Joyce romantic behaviour. Not after the music session. And especially not after the tour around the flowers.”
Acylius’s stomach dropped. “Those were romantic gestures as well?” he asked. Aelia had seemed a little cross both times, but he’d thought it was just part of her usual annoyance with Fulgor.
Aelia flinched, as though she had forgotten that he was there. She turned to him, but she didn’t meet his eyes. “Listening to Fulgor play wasn’t,” she said. Acylius had the impression that she was choosing her words very carefully. “The flowers were…pushing it a little.”
Acylius covered his face with his hands. “Aelia, I don’t know what to say-”
“You don’t have to say anything. I know that you didn’t understand.”
But you were annoyed, and I didn’t ask why. The words utterly failed to leave Acylius’s mouth; he couldn’t get them to fit past the guilt that was closing his throat. He should have asked. But he had been enjoying himself, and he hadn’t wanted to spoil things by triggering another sibling quarrel. Aelia and Fulgor always seemed to be bickering about something or other...
Acylius swallowed, letting his hands fall away from his face. That was no excuse. He should have asked.
“Look, there’s an easy solution to this,” said Fulgor, into the tightly stretched silence. “Acylius, you just go over there and hug Yaya, and this will all-”
“Don’t you dare.” Aelia sucked in a thin breath, like there wasn’t enough room inside her for anger and air. “Don’t you dare, Fulgor. You can’t just tell someone to…to be romantic and expect it to fix everything!” Her voice shook on the words be romantic. Acylius’s heart clenched painfully, and he took a step towards her with hand outstretched.
“Aelia, I’m so sorry-”
She shook her head fiercely. “No! Don’t apologize. It isn’t your fault. It’s Fulgor’s.”
“I didn’t mean-” Fulgor finally seemed to have grasped the depths of his mistake, but Aelia clearly wasn’t in the mood to accept an apology.
“Of course you didn’t mean it,” she said, with bitter, angry resignation. “You never mean it. But you spoil things anyway. You always do.”
“Don’t be like that. It’s not like you can never do those things with Acylius-”
“And how do you think it will feel, knowing that you did those things with him first? It won’t be-” She stopped, took another deep breath. Then, softly, she said, “It won’t be the same.” She turned away from them both. “I’m going to start working on patching paint. A lot of the bees and the dragonflies got caught in the Kloud, and they won’t be able to fly until they’ve got their kolors back.”
Acylius took another step towards her. “Aelia-”
She wavered for a moment, but didn’t turn back around. “Thank you for coming to help, Acylius. Could you make sure that Fulgor makes it to the springs? He might be a little dizzy.”
Acylius watched her helplessly. Her wings were beating unevenly, a slow and erratic rhythm that he suspected was unconscious. He noticed that her own kolors were slightly dimmed by the dissipating Kloud. At least, he hoped it was the result of the Kloud. Did Joyces lose their kolors when they were upset?
“I will,” he said. It seemed like the only safe thing to say.
She hesitated a moment as though trying to think of a reply, then nodded once and took off into the clearing sky. Acylius watched her until she was out of sight, then groaned and buried his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry,” said Fulgor from behind him. He sounded as despondent as Acylius had ever heard him. “I really didn’t mean to mess things up for you both. I was just trying to get Aelia to make some kind of move.”
Acylius thought about being angry. The situation seemed to call for it. But he couldn’t quite muster the energy: he was tired from his desperate flight to Flower City and his equally desperate dive to save Fulgor, not to mention the emotional rollercoaster of the last twenty minutes. He didn’t seem to have any strength left for anger.
He did, however, have the strength to be sure of one thing: somehow, he would have to make this up to Aelia. His ignorance may have been genuine, but so was her hurt.
“I must make this right,” he said aloud.
“I’ll help,” said Fulgor eagerly, but Acylius shook his head.
“Fulgor, I mean no offence, but you did play a large part in causing this problem. I think it would be for the best if I fixed it myself.”
“And how are you going to do that?” asked Fulgor, sounding more curious than miffed.
“I don’t know yet. But I will think of something.” Acylius shook himself and turned to his friend. “In the meantime, we should go over to the springs so that you can get clean.”
Fulgor snorted. “I’m not the only one who could do with a scrub.”
Acylius looked down at himself, realising for the first time that he was also lightly coated in koal juice. “Thorns and briars,” he muttered, regarding the patina mournfully. “I don’t suppose this will wear off over time?” He didn’t want to waste time cleaning off the muck. He wanted to be alone so that he could think about what to do for Aelia.
“No, it just dries into a black crust. You can get some interesting effects if you scrape it off then, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Scrape it off. The phrase triggered a memory, and Acylius felt his antennae stand straight up. It was perfect. He’d just have to find it again…
“Acylius?”
“I know what to do,” said Acylius, feeling slightly light-headed with sheer relief. “Come on. We don’t have much time.”
“What do you mean, ‘we don’t have much time’?” demanded Fulgor, baffled. “It’s only noon!”
“Yes, but there’s something that I need to find, back at the Stump. I know that I hid it somewhere, but I haven’t dared to bring it out in…” Acylius paused, trying to remember. It had been one of his earliest attempts at tunnelling… “Well, a very long time.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” asked Fulgor with concern. “I mean, we hit the ground pretty hard, and you’re not making any sense.”
“Never you mind.” Acylius sprang into the air. “The only thing that you need to worry about is scrubbing off the koal juice. Can you fly?”
Fulgor fluttered his wings experimentally. Their beating seemed slower than usual. “I think so,” he said, voice slightly strained, “But I might need your help.” He gave a little hop that did absolutely nothing to get him airborne.
Acylius extended a hand, then hesitated. “This isn’t…”
“No, this is normal if you’re helping someone.” Acylius still hesitated, and Fulgor made an exasperated sound. “If you don’t believe me, just look around you! And do it fast. If we don’t hurry there won’t be any room left in the springs.” Acylius glanced up. Around them, he could see other Joyces rising into the air in twos and threes. The karbon-darkened Joyces held the hands and forelimbs of their unscathed friends. Acylius relaxed slightly and reached down. Fulgor took his hand.
“Are you going to question everything we do, now?” the Joyce asked, as they headed in the direction of the springs.
“Possibly,” said Acylius. “You really don’t have anyone to blame but yourself, you know.”
Fulgor made a face at him.
The sun was visibly dipping towards the horizon by the time that Acylius returned to Flower City. It hadn’t been hard to sneak back in; the aftermath of another failed attempt on the Great Flower was always chaotic. The guards were too busy helping Krabouic and Kaboche manoeuvre the crumpled cockpit of the Koal Kloud Kreator back into the hanger to notice Acylius slipping through the unguarded gates. Finding the item had been more of a challenge. Still, he’d only had to check the sites of four or five of his earlier excavations before he found it-slightly grimy, but still sparkling even in the dim light of the torches.
He snuck back out again while Teknocratus and the guards were trying to open up the mangled cockpit so that the pilots could escape. From the shouted complaints, Kaboche was sitting in Krabouic’s lap to avoid the spinning blade wielded by the engineer, and elbows were proving to be a problem.
Joyceland was only mildly less chaotic as Acylius glided down to the Great Flower. The remains of the machine had been removed, but its crash landing had bent and broken a swathe of plants, and the Kloud itself had left a dark stain on the landscape. The bright dots of Joyce workers swarmed over it, doing…well, Acylius wasn’t sure. Something to save the flowers, he hoped.
Aelia’s bright blue wings were not among the workers.
Acylius turned his gift over in his hands as he slowly made his way through the quiet corridors of Flower City. He’d removed the worst of the dirt, but hadn’t dared to scrub too hard in case it removed the strange, shiny tarnish. Would Aelia like it? It was, after all…well, it was a rock. An unusual rock, but…a rock. Even with its peculiar, shifting patina, it lacked the grace and beauty of the flowers that Aelia had shown him.
She showed you living creations of unparalleled wonder, and you’re giving her a piece of rock that you dug up and clung to because it was the first colourful thing you’d seen in the Stump. Hardly comparable in value, is it?
Acylius shook his head violently, like he could dislodge the thought with movement. It was too late to second guess himself; this was the only acceptable path forward. All the others involved asking Fulgor for advice about Joyce courtship, and that was just not going to happen. Acylius would have to succeed or fail on his own merits.
He hoped, rather desperately, that he had some.
The door to Aelia’s laboratory was before him. Acylius swallowed, took a deep breath, and very cautiously turned the handle. The click of the latch sliding free seemed very loud.
“Aelia?” he called.
There was a gasp, a scrape, and then a ringing thump as something hit the floor. Acylius winced. This wasn’t exactly an auspicious beginning to the conversation.
“May I-” he began.
“Come on in, Acylius.” Aelia sounded tired and resigned, and Acylius’s heart sank all the way to his toes. It was on his lips to say that he could come back later, if she was busy, but he forced the words down and pushed the door open. Aelia was kneeling on the floor, head under her bench, apparently trying to retrieve something that had rolled underneath. Acylius tucked his gift behind his back.
“You’ve…been busy, I see,” he said, inanely. The bench was covered in a dozen shades of powdered pollen, and a dozen more of half-dried pigment. It looked like the dragonflies had used it for bombing practice.
Aelia came out from underneath it, holding a stained pestle in one hand. She stood up slowly. “I should clean up,” she said, not turning around. “I think I’ve made enough paint to last the rest of the year.” She gingerly placed the pestle in a mortar half-full of pollen powder, then moved the mortar to one of the bench’s few remaining clean patches.
“I’m sure it will be useful,” said Acylius, trying to sound enthusiastic. His gift felt as though it was trying to slip from his hands. He tightened his grip until its surface dug into his palms.
“One way or another,” said Aelia.
Acylius winced.
He was almost sure that he hadn’t made a sound, but Aelia hurried on as though she’d heard him. “I mean, we’re almost guaranteed to run out during the Festival of Kolors, plus there’s always some kind of unexpected occasion that needs extra decoration. And you’d be surprised how much ordinary wear and tear-”
Acylius steeled himself. “Aelia,” he ventured.
She slumped. “I’m sorry about before,” she said.
Acylius blinked. “But, Aelia-”
“You couldn’t be expected to realise what…those things meant.”
“Aelia-”
“I should have said something, or at least had a word with Fulgor. It wasn’t fair of him to keep misleading you, and I should have put a stop to it.”
“Aelia-”
“I’ll understand if you don’t-”
Acylius lurched forward and put a hand on her arm. “Aelia!”
She turned to look at him. Acylius swallowed. “I knew that you were annoyed with Fulgor for what he was doing,” he said. “I should have asked why. You’re right that I didn’t know what those actions meant, but even if it was unintentional…I still hurt you. I really can’t express how sorry I am for that.”
Aelia shook her head. “I still should have said something,” she said, stubbornly.
“And I should have asked, and Fulgor should have known better,” said Acylius, trying to smile. “Perhaps we could all accept an equal share of the blame?” She looked like she might try to keep arguing, so he hurried on. “Actually, I-I have something for you.” Swallowing hard against the anxious tightness of his throat, Acylius brought his gift out from behind his back and held it out to Aelia. Her eyes widened. Acylius tilted the rock so that she could see the way the colours shifted with movement, green-blue becoming blue becoming purple, with a few edges glowing gold.
“Oh, Acylius,” she said, voice hushed with something that sounded very like awe. “It’s beautiful.”
Acylius’s knees went weak with relief. “It’s a Yuk courtship tradition, to give your, um, object of affection a special rock,” he said. “It’s usually something rare, a fragment of coal or a piece of iron ore, but… I didn’t think you would like those.”
Aelia gently took the rock from his hands, turning it over and watching the shifting colours with rapt fascination. “I didn’t know that rocks could have colours like this,” she said. “And this iridescent effect, I’ve never seen anything like it!”
“I found it during one of my first attempts at tunnelling,” Acylius said. “It wasn’t like this when I dug it out, I would have noticed. I think something about being out in the air, rather than under the ground, made it turn these colours.”
Aelia glanced up. “How could that be?” The question was more curious than sceptical.
“I don’t know,” admitted Acylius. “Teknocratus said that the colours could be scraped off, but it would have to be kept underwater to stop them from coming back. I don’t know if that would have worked, I took it back and buried it again before they could try.” He reached out and ran one finger over the stone’s rough surface. “It was the first colourful thing I had seen in the Stump. I couldn’t bear the thought that it might be ruined, even if stopping that meant I wouldn’t be able to see it for myself.”
The silence seemed to stretch out. Afraid that he’d said something wrong, Acylius glanced up to find that Aelia was staring at him with peculiar intensity. “Um,” he said.
She set the rock down on her workbench and fluttered towards him. “Acylius,” she said, very seriously, “I want to hug you. Is that okay?”
His mouth dropped open. “What? I mean-yes, certainly, if that’s what you want, but I don’t see-”
The rest of his sentence was cut off as Aelia’s arms slipped around his waist and held him tightly. At least, it seemed to be tightly-perhaps that it was just that all of Acylius’s breath seemed to have left him. His entire field of vision was filled with the marbled purples and blues of Aelia’s wings. He also had no idea where to put his hands.
Aelia seemed to have read his mind. “Here.” Gently, she took one of his arms and tucked it around her own waist. He could feel the edges of her wings fluttering against his forearm as he copied her movement with his other arm. She had also tucked her forehead into his shoulder-her antennae brushed the side of his head. Tentatively, Acylius mirrored the movement. She smelled like pollen and perfume.
“That’s it,” he heard her say, over the pounding of his heart. “You’re a natural.”
They stood like that for-well, Acylius wasn’t sure how long. Certainly not long enough. He could happily have spent days holding Aelia-or hours, at the very least. But he felt Aelia drawing away, and reluctantly released his own hold on her. The sudden feeling of isolation was considerably lessened when she took both of his hands in hers.
“That was…amazing,” he said, breathlessly.
She smiled at him. “It was, wasn’t it?”
Acylius glanced over at the rock he’d brought, still setting on Aelia’s workbench. Placed among the bright splashes of pigment, it looked dirty and washed out. “I feel like my gift hardly compares.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Aelia. “I love it. I can’t wait to show it to Papa-I bet he’s never seen anything like it, either.” Acylius hummed, still unconvinced, and Aelia squeezed his hands. “Acylius. I really am glad that you brought it to me. You keep showing me how much more there is to the Yuks than I ever thought.”
Acylius looked back at her. “I do?”
“Of course you do! I never would have guessed that Yuks had their own courtship traditions.” She ducked her head, then gave him a slightly sheepish smile. “I didn’t really think about it. It seems odd to think of, but the underlying principle is the same as the gifts we give-something special or unusual.”
Acylius blinked. “I didn’t think of it like that.”
“The actions are different, but the reasons are the same,” said Aelia. “I hope you’ll tell me about the other traditions as well?” The hopeful curiosity in her voice made Acylius smile.
“Of course I will,” he said. He glanced down at their joined hands. “Though I quite like the Joyce traditions, as well.”
“Me too,” said Aelia. She made a face. “I guess that Fulgor didn’t spoil this for us after all.”
“No,” said Acylius, firmly. “It would be impossible for anything to compare to that.” Hugging Fulgor had been an act of sheer relief. Hugging Aelia was…he didn’t know a word that would fully describe that feeling of joy and awe and wonder. He would have to ask, later.
“I suppose I’ll have to tell him that,” muttered Aelia.
“Not now, I hope?”
“Absolutely not. He can stew in it for a while longer.”
“I quite agree.” Acylius was still feeling a little cross at being deceived, even if it had been with good intentions. Though that did trigger a thought… He squeezed Aelia’s hands gently. “If it isn’t too soon to suggest it…I would like it if you would show me around your flowers. I don’t think that Fulgor fully appreciates them.”
“I know he doesn’t,” said Aelia. “Almost everything he told you was complete nonsense.”
Acylius sighed. “I suppose I should have known.”
Aelia shook her head. “Honestly, apart from him misleading you, that was what annoyed me the most. And I don’t even know if he was making it up because he thought it was funny, or because he really wasn’t paying attention when I told him about them.”
“Because he thought it was funny, I hope,” said Acylius. “But I can certainly promise that I will pay full attention.”
“I know you will,” said Aelia affectionately. “But it’s a bit late to go today. The sun will have set, and most of the flowers will be closed. I suppose that I could play some of my own music for you, but…” Her hands slid up Acylius’s arms. “I’d rather hug you again.”
Acylius slid his arms around her waist. “Happy to oblige.”