[closed post -- a readiness of things]

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad has assumed a regular schedule of checking on Magnus -- the protein bars were dire, and Magnus deserves better food, to say nothing of the other pleasures of indoor life (changes of clothes, Ticket to Ride (the Europe version), updates from Claudius' Mansion gossip that seem like they're be interesting to Magnus and not so personal that Galahad would feel bad sharing them). He comes out to the woods daily now.

It's one of the coolest days they've had at the Mansion so far, and he has a long coat on over his clothes. Today's collection of needful things includes a book full of different waffle recipes, the spicy lamb Magnus conjured from the refrigerator on his first day, two bottles of Mountain Dew Code Red, and an assortment of jeweled barrettes that immediately made him think of Magnus' overlong hair.

Comments

[summerdude]

"January sixth!" He nudges Galahad. "Mine's the thirteenth."

[onthewillowsthere]

He nudges back, with a tiny grin. "And you're older than me."

[summerdude]

"I guess," Magnus says. He really should have asked Galahad to help him pick an age from the start. "You were definitely born first, though. Hey, you ever think about how weird this place is?"

[onthewillowsthere]

A laugh. "Yes. Often."

[summerdude]

Magnus grins. "What do people do for birthdays, where you're from?"

[onthewillowsthere]

"Nothing. What do you do?"

[summerdude]

"Well, I die," Magnus laughs. He's had time to come to terms with it. "But when I was a kid, birthday parties were all the rage. When I was a teen, too, I guess; Hearth and Blitz stole some chocolate for me for my fifteenth and sang the song and everything."

[onthewillowsthere]

"There's a song?"

[summerdude]

"Oh yeah," Magnus says. He doesn't have much of a singing voice, but he makes a valiant effort to sing it for Galahad anyway.

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad feels light, lighter than he's ever been in his life. Even when he was most happy with Percival, he was like a clenched hand, curled in on himself from the weight of his purpose. He was always conscious of God's intentions for him; he was never really free.

Now he listens to Magnus sing, their shoulders touching, the warmth from the fire not quite offsetting the cold in the air, and he's lost God's love, and he's so happy. He's happy to be here. With Magnus it's easy to speak, and his face and voice express the things he wants them to. Laughing is as easy as it was with Shen Yuan's remedy. There are things he's looking forward to -- the talent show, the dance -- things he wants to see happen: the time when he finally understands every subtle part of Claudius' expressions. There are things in the future that he wants more than he wants to die.

He doesn't want to die.

He can't remember a time when that wasn't what he was waiting for. Some days the longing might have been quieter and more subtle, but it was always there. He's always felt sad and crushingly tired, as if he had lost something he'd forgotten about but the grief remained. Now he feels-- it's better. It's not gone, but it's not like a whole millstone on his body. It feels like something he could live with.

He closes his eyes and nestles closer to Magnus' side.

[summerdude]

Magnus curls up against Galahad, automatically, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He doesn't know what Galahad's thinking, but he can tell that he's in good humor. It is in the spirit of this good humor -- and the fact that Galahad has apparently never celebrated his birthday????! -- that has Magnus saying, "We could have a birthday party. If you want."

[onthewillowsthere]

"What is that like?" still smiling.

[summerdude]

"There's cake and presents and everyone is celebrating you," Magnus says. "I -- don't really remember the activities, I haven't had a real birthday party in over ten years; they're not really a thing in Valhalla. There's games and stuff? I hate being the center of attention, though, but if I have an actual age now... I think if we had a shared birthday party that would be really fun. Maybe at the midpoint? The ninth or the tenth. Or... whatever the equivalent is here." He still hasn't really figured out the calendar.

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad doesn't like being the center of attention either, but he's also contemplating the fact that there probably wouldn't be very many people, and it would be shared like Magnus said, so it's probably all right. "That would be the beginning of Ordinary Time," he says thoughtfully. "The fast would be over. I could have cake."

[summerdude]

It's really called Ordinary Time? Christianity sounds whack. Magnus hides a smile. "Caaaaaaake," he says. "What's your favorite kind?"

[onthewillowsthere]

"I've never had it. Percival liked gingerbread."

[summerdude]

"Does Ordinary Time start right after, um, the Epiphany?" Magnus asks.

[onthewillowsthere]

"Ordinary Time starts on the first Monday after Epiphany and goes until Shrovetide."

[summerdude]

"Shrovetide," Magnus repeats. Maybe he should ask Galahad to bring him a book about his calendar next, so Magnus can learn it without asking him questions every two minutes. "Sure. Um, how do Mondays work here, since the calendar is so weird? I'm only asking because I think it's imperative we have a cake taste test before our birthday party so we can be sure to pick the very best one."

[onthewillowsthere]

"We should have our birthday later, then. The fast ends on Epiphany, so we wouldn't have very long." He hasn't actually bothered to look at the Mansion's calendar, because he has his own, Magnus! His own that Claudius gave him back when they were estranged, which makes it doubly precious.

[summerdude]

"Cool," Magnus says. "We have time to figure it out. Thirty-six to forty-three days, huh?"

[onthewillowsthere]

He nods. Then, "You said presents?"

[summerdude]

"I said presents," with a great deal of glee. "Everybody who comes brings you a present, and then after the party, you write them all thank-you cards."

[onthewillowsthere]

Presents, plural, is hard to envision at all. Galahad's first gift was the gold-edged psalter the abbess gave him for his first communion, when he was eight, and after that any gifts were from Percival -- things like the cicada, the encounter with the unicorn, his stories about Wales, often less than tangible after the fact. Claudius has given Galahad his calendar, the watch with its braided band (he rubs the leather with his thumb). He can't really imagine what else there is to give, especially in a place like this, where he can have any book he wants, any piece of clothing he can imagine.

"What present do you want?"

[summerdude]

Alex, of course, is the first thing that comes to mind. Alex, or Samirah, or Hearth and Blitz. But having one of them here -- or at least having a way to let them know that he's okay -- that's not something anyone can give Magnus.

"That's a good question," he decides. "I'll have to think about it. You already give me presents, like, every day, and they're always great." He touches the barrettes in his hair. "I think when, like, you're a kid, you mostly want cool toys. A doll, or a lego set, or your own sleeping bag or whatever. Valhalla was more like the Mansion -- they've got basically everything there, even IKEA. Um, that's a furniture store. Plus nobody really pays attention to birthdays. But gifts are more, like, little thoughtful things that make you think of someone rather than something they specifically need. Like, I used to give Hunding the bellhop fancy Midgard chocolate every time I came in after sneaking out. I like those kinds -- the stuff you don't think to ask for, but that people think you should have anyway. Stuff that makes me feel like people appreciate that I'm here, I guess?" He glances over at Galahad, who is great at that sort of thing. "I wouldn't say no to a lego set, though. What do you want?"