Acylius/Aelia: Lugubrious (lover100 Prompt #071)
TITLE: Lugubrious
FANDOM: Insektors
PAIRING: Acylius/Aelia
RATING: G
SUMMARY: The differences between Yukdom and Joyceland run deeper than just music, flowers and kolors.
WARNINGS: Siblings being siblings.
NOTES: The Joyces that Fulgor and Aelia refer to are two of the dragonfly squadron; their call signs are Tango-Zulu and Oscar-Papa.
The day that Prince Acylius came to Flower City was an educational one for Aelia. She didn’t usually like to be wrong-Fulgor never let her forget it-but that day, she was glad to be. She learned that Yuks were not uniformly destructive, that at least one of them was capable of appreciating flowers as more than fuel for war machines, and that it was entirely possible for a Yuk to be happy about something other than ruining a Joyce’s day. That last discovery had led to another, which Aelia would be keeping to herself: the laughter of Prince Acylius as he looped joyfully across the sky was the nicest sound that she had ever heard. It made her feel warm and fluttery, and glad that Fulgor was more focused on their new friend than he was on her, or he would have noticed something and teased her mercilessly.
It was just a pity that Acylius’s laughter kept being cut short by startled yelps as he lost control of his flight and began another uncontrolled dive. After the prince’s second tumble into one of the tulips that grew around the base of the Great Flower (after the first, Aelia had promised herself that the next flower cultivar she created would be another tulip, in thanks), they agreed that something would have to change.
“Most beginners try flying straight before going into loops and spirals like that,” said Fulgor teasingly. “Maybe we should try that.”
Acylius, still panting, managed to looked sheepish. “Yes, that might be a good idea. I suspect I have been a little ambitious.”
“Just a little,” said Aelia. “Are you alright?” She couldn’t help drifting a little closer to the flower.
“Perfectly fine,” Acylius said, swallowing. His breathing began to even out. “I’m sorry, Aelia. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Ambition isn’t a bad thing, but let’s try something a little simpler so that you can build up your confidence.” She smiled at him. “I’m sure you’ll be turning loops in no time, but you can’t do that if you’re laid up with a strained wing. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Fulgor, who was hovering on the other side of the flower and out of Acylius’s sight, pretended silently to gag, and then grinned at Aelia’s responding scowl. Acylius, glancing from one to the other, wisely chose not to involve himself. After a brief discussion, they relocated to the daisy patch, not far from where Acylius had abandoned the Koa.
“It’s a good place for basic practice,” explained Aelia, in response to Acylius’s question. “The flowers are nice and broad, so there’s less chance of a long fall, and the centres are quite soft.”
“You’ll want to aim for them if you’re coming in too quickly for a safe landing,” added Fulgor. “They’ll absorb the impact. You might end up covered in pollen again, though.”
“I don’t mind,” said Acylius. “I’d rather be covered in pollen than mud.”
“Really?” said Fulgor. “I’d rather be covered in mud. Pollen gets up your nose and in your eyes.”
Acylius looked vaguely alarmed. Aelia snickered. “Only if you dive into it face-first,” she said.
Fulgor tried to look dignified. “Sometimes,” he said, “face-planting just happens.”
“Yes,” said Aelia, trying and failing to sound stern. “Especially when you decide that a triple loop is an excellent way to come out of a corkscrew. I’d never seen anyone fly face-first into a bluebell before.” She turned to Acylius. “Bluebells point downwards,” she explained. “Usually, to fly straight into one, you’d have to approach from the ground.”
Acylius’s mouth shaped a silent ‘oh’, and he nodded his understanding.
Fulgor rolled his eyes. “Anyway. Let’s practice turning. Keep an eye on your height while you lean into it, or you’ll drift downwards and maybe run into something.”
“While you’re starting, it’s best to stay a good distance above any potential obstacle,” added Aelia. “Just in case.”
With Aelia on one side and Fulgor on the other, Acylius flew back and forth across the daisy patch. They started with broad, shallow curves-more veering than turning, Fulgor said-then gradually increased the length and angle. Acylius took each one with an expression of deep concentration that Aelia found endearing, and each successful pass made him grin with an almost childish delight. Aelia couldn’t help giggling as she praised him for his achievements, and even Fulgor couldn’t suppress a grin.
“Alright,” he said eventually. “Let’s see if we can turn all the way around. Keep it tight, Acylius.”
“Right,” the prince muttered, and leaned. He had managed almost the complete turn, in as tight and flat a circle as his teachers could have wished, when he wobbled, yelped, and began to dip towards the daisies. Aelia gasped, but before she or Fulgor could dive for him, Acylius struggled back up again with a few frantic wingbeats. He panted for a moment, and now that the risk of a fall was gone, Aelia couldn’t help giggling a little. Acylius gave her a sheepish smile, which only made her giggle harder.
“I lost my rhythm,” he said, apologetically. “I still have to think about it.”
Aelia managed to get her laughter under control. “Don’t worry,” she said as soothingly as she could. “It will become automatic with practice. And even the best fliers sometimes stop mid-wingbeat if they’re really surprised.”
Fulgor started to chuckle. “And sometimes only one wing will stop while the other keeps going, and then you end up spinning like a top. Remember when Orpah asked Teezee-”
Aelia burst out laughing. “Yes! She was so surprised that she spiralled nearly to the ground before she levelled out! And poor Orpah was circling in the opposite direction-”
“And everyone watching thought that they’d skipped straight to courtship dancing, and it was days before anyone believed that they had only just arranged their first date!”
Aelia clapped her hands over her mouth in an attempt to control her laughter. It was probably more than the memory deserved, but that didn’t seem very important at the moment. Especially when Fulgor was laughing just as hard, the both of them cackling like lunatics, while Acylius-
Aelia glanced at Acylius. The expression on his face was a mixture of concern and confusion and polite interest that was, for some reason, the funniest thing she had ever seen.
She hit the middle of a daisy with a thump that did nothing to jolt her out of her laughter. Golden pollen swirled up around her, and a tiny part of her was relieved that at least it wasn’t orange or pink. Warm yellow went reasonably well with her bluish-purple colouring, so she could probably get away without having to ask Papa to repaint her wings. That always took forever.
“Aelia! Are you alright?” That was Acylius, and his obvious distress at her ‘fall’ finally made the laughter taper off.
“I’m fine!” she called once she had her breath back, and pushed herself to her feet. “See? Daisies make excellent landing pads.” Her eyes were still blurry with tears, and she wiped at them. “And you just got an extra demonstration of how experienced fliers can still fall if they lose their focus…” She trailed off. Fulgor had regained control over himself sooner than she had, but now he had collapsed again, his legs kicking helplessly as he rocked back and forth in the air. And Acylius had a very peculiar expression on her face. “What is it?” she asked.
Fulgor pointed at her, but he was laughing too hard to speak. Aelia planted her hands on her hips. “Yes, I’m covered in pollen,” she said tartly. “What of it? It’s not the first time it’s happened, and it won’t be the last.”
“Aelia,” said Acylius, his voice oddly strained. “It’s-it’s your face…”
“My face?” Aelia put a hand to her cheek-then paused. Her hands were covered in yellow pollen from when she had pushed herself up off the flower. Which meant… “Oh, sputtering sparks,” she said. Random smears from wiping her face were very different to the almost-artful swirls that her impromptu landing had given her wings. She must look a sight.
Acylius’s self-control broke, and he started to laugh just as hard and as loudly as Fulgor. Aelia rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, laugh it up,” she said, with exaggerated exasperation. “I’m so glad that I can amuse you.” This had its expected effect on Fulgor-redoubled laughter and no sign of any apology-but Acylius stopped laughing as though she had hit him. He looked appalled, and for the life of her, Aelia couldn’t figure out why. She had liked hearing Acylius laugh; she hadn’t wanted him to stop.
The sudden silence from the prince had brought Fulgor out of his own fit. “Hey, what’s the matter?” he asked.
“I-” began Acylius, then stuck. His appalled look had faded into shame-the same look that had been on his face by the mud puddle earlier, when she had shouted at him about lying to her. Aelia’s stomach twisted. She didn’t want to see that look on Acylius’s face ever again, especially not over something so harmless.
She bent, grabbed a double handful of yellow, and let fly. One flew straight over Fulgor’s head-her left hand was definitely less coordinated than her right-but the other hit him straight in the chest, just as she had intended. It left a bright sunburst on his orange carapace, and an expression of stunned surprise on his face.
Aelia started to giggle again, just managing to get out, “Now who’s laughing?”
Fulgor looked down at himself and groaned. “Aelia!”
“What? It serves you right. And besides, I think it looks rather good. Don’t you think so, Acylius?”
Acylius looked almost as shocked as Fulgor-but at least he didn’t look guilty anymore. “Um, I suppose?” he said, hesitantly.
Aelia thrust one fist in the air, and laughed harder at the disgruntled look on Fulgor’s face. “Oh sure,” her brother said. “Side with her. Just remember that you brought this on yourself.”
Acylius blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
Aelia gasped as Fulgor dived for the nearest daisy. “Acylius, move!”
The Yuk prince gave her a startled look, but dodged to one side. He wasn’t quite fast enough. The clump of blue pollen that Fulgor had thrown hit him on the shoulder. He yelped and spun in mid-air, trying desperately to regain his balance. Aelia grabbed another two handfuls of yellow pollen and launched herself into the air. Fulgor rose to meet her, a fistful of kolor in each hand. They circled one another, each trying to get into a position where they could launch their missiles without opening themselves to attack.
“That was a dirty trick,” Fulgor said.
“What? Dirtier than launching an unprovoked attack on an amateur flier?” Since she was facing the right direction, Aelia was kept half an eye on Acylius. He had managed to steady himself without crashing into any of the daisies, but he didn’t seem to know what to do. Rather than arming himself and joining the fray, he was hovering uncertainly out of range.
Aelia’s moment of inattention cost her. When she saw the clump of kolor speeding towards her, she only had time to twist so that it exploded against her hip rather than her stomach.
“Two points to me!” declared Fulgor triumphantly.
“The game’s not over yet!” Aelia shot back, hoping that Acylius would hear her and understand. She beat her wings harder, climbing as fast as she could.
“What’s the matter? Running away?” taunted Fulgor. “I don’t blame you. Even two against one isn’t a fair fight when the one is me.”
“With your swelled head, you’re twice the target!” retorted Aelia. Folding her wings, she dived for her brother. He spun out of the way, but Aelia had been prepared for that. She snapped her left wing open all the way, keeping the right one only partly extended. She spun with her brother, and threw. Both of her makeshift kolor bombs struck home, and she whooped. Then she had to focus on steadying herself before she spiralled into another daisy. When she felt reasonably sure that she was properly upright and not careening sideways, she lifted her head and pointed at Fulgor. “Three points!” she shouted.
Fulgor opened his mouth to reply-and yelped as one pollen clump whizzed past him, and a second hit him on the shoulder and exploded in a burst of pink. Aelia turned to see Acylius standing on a pink daisy, kolored to the elbows and already with another two clumps in hand.
“Er,” he said. “Four points?”
Aelia laughed in delight and dived for the nearest daisy to reload.
The Great Pyro found them as the sun was setting, and promptly send them off to the springs to get themselves cleaned up. All three were so thoroughly splattered with pollen that Fulgor had made a joke about calling in the bees to collect from them, since they clearly counted as flowers now. Aelia rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder, telling him to stop spreading misinformation. Pollen collection did not work that. Fulgor had pretended to spin out of control, but Aelia only shrugged and flew on. To her satisfaction, Acylius didn’t pause for more than a moment before following her. Several times during their play fight, Fulgor had caught Acylius out with similar deceptions, and it looked like the Yuk prince was learning to tell the difference between controlled and uncontrolled falls.
When Fulgor caught up to them again, he was pouting, and he complained that Aelia and Acylius were no fun. This made them both giggle, and Fulgor looked even more put-out. It was a good thing that they had reached the springs at that point, before Aelia and Acylius could start laughing hard enough to fall out of the sky again. As it was, Fulgor took himself off to the other end of the springs, where he could sulk in peace.
“Don’t worry about him,” said Aelia, as Acylius glanced after him. “He’ll be over it in ten minutes, and then he’ll be back to pester us some more.” She scooped water over his shoulder, rubbing gently to dislodge the pigment. “Did you have fun?”
“I did, yes,” said Acylius, sounding almost surprised. Aelia couldn’t stop another giggle from escaping her.
“Are you sure? You don’t sound sure,” she said.
He seemed to miss the teasing tone. “I’m sure that I had fun,” he said slowly. “I’m just not certain that I should have.”
It took Aelia a moment to parse the statement. She stopped scrubbing at Acylius’s shoulder and leaned around him to get a good look at his face. He looked pensive. “You’re not sure whether you should have had fun?” Aelia asked, baffled. “Why not? It was just a game. Haven’t you ever played something like that before?”
“I haven’t, but that wasn’t what I meant.” Aelia sucked in a shocked breath, but before she could say anything, Acylius went on, “It was…the way that things started.”
“The way that things started?” Her stomach dropped. “You mean with me throwing that pollen at Fulgor?” She hadn’t realised that it had bothered him that much. And then she had pulled him into it too by asking his opinion on how Fulgor looked with the pollen splatter…
“Er, no,” said Acylius, sounding slightly confused. “That was perfectly understandable. I meant…” He trailed off, and then Aelia felt him straighten slightly, as though he was steeling himself to say something unpleasant. “I meant the way that Fulgor and I were laughing at you because of the pollen on your face. It wasn’t very nice of us.”
Aelia stared at him. He was holding himself very stiffly, as though bracing himself for some kind of reprimand, and she couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing, backing up a step so that she could wrap her arms around her middle. She heard sloshing as Acylius turned around, probably to stare at her in disbelief, and she tried to get herself under control. It took a few moments.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” she said, wiping at her eyes again. “I don’t mind at all. It was pretty funny. You’d think that since I’d just pushed myself up, I’d remember that I’d have pollen all over my hands.”
Acylius was staring at her in complete disbelief. “You don’t mind that we were laughing at you?”
“But you weren’t really laughing at me,” said Aelia. “You were laughing at the situation. That’s a very different thing.”
Acylius blinked at her. “It is?”
“Of course! We’re friends, Acylius. I knew that you weren’t being mean.” She snorted, and added, “I wasn’t so sure about Fulgor. That’s why I threw the pollen at him.”
Her joke did not have its intended effect. Acylius looked, if possible, even more confused than before. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. How can it not be cruel to laugh at someone else’s misfortune?”
Aelia’s amusement died. “Is that the only reason that someone would laugh, in the Stump? To mock someone else?”
“Er,” said Acylius. “Perhaps not the only reason, but it’s certainly the most common. I understand that one can laugh at something without meaning for it to belittle someone else, but… It always seemed unfair, to laugh at someone for a mistake or something beyond their control.”
“Oh,” said Aelia. Inwardly, she vowed that she would never let Acylius be taken back to the City of Shadows if she could help it. She’d known that it was horrible, but this was on another level entirely. “It isn’t quite like that here,” she said. “You can laugh at someone without being mean about it. Sometimes you can be annoying about it-Fulgor’s very good at that-but for something like the pollen, I know that he doesn’t…” She paused for a moment, trying to figure out the right words. Acylius had used ‘belittle’, so… “I know that he doesn’t think any less of me,” she said finally. “Any more than I think less of him when I laughed because I hit him with the pollen clump. Friends can laugh at each other without hurting feelings-even play tricks on one another, so long as nobody gets hurt.”
“Really?”
“Sure. Fulgor and I do it all the time, especially if one of us has annoyed the other. It gets us both to laugh, and then we don’t need to be annoyed anymore.”
Acylius was silent for a moment as he absorbed this. Then he shook his head, not quite looking at her. “It’s so much more different here than I thought,” he said.
“In a good way, I hope,” said Aelia. He looked up at her, and she smiled at him. After a moment, he smiled back.
“Certainly in a good way,” he said. “It’s just more extensive than I thought. I wanted to come to Flower City because I knew that there would be flowers and kolors and music, but I didn’t know that there would even be differences in why you would laugh.” He shook his head. “Not that you hear much of that, in the Stump. I think I heard more laughter in five minutes of our game than I would hear in a whole year in Yukdom. Hardly a place conducive to amusement. It’s so dreary; nothing but the sounds of mining and the dripping of the water coming in, and all the tunnels look the same.”
“I know,” said Aelia. Acylius looked startled, and she explained, “Fulgor got himself captured not long ago, and I had to go rescue him. I was only there for a little while, but I don’t know how much longer I could have stood it. I certainly don’t know how anyone could live there. It’s just so…depressing.”
Acylius smiled a wry smile. “You know, when Krabo locked me in my room this morning, I told him that. That it was depressing, I mean. And he told me that my finding it depressing was excellent news. Apparently, I was showing progress.” He was trying to make light of it, Aelia could tell, but the words still made her heart clench. She wanted, suddenly, to put her arms around Acylius and just hold him, and she felt her face heat. It was entirely too early to be considering that kind of thing. So instead, she stepped forward again and gently touched his arm.
“I’m so glad that you escaped,” she said.
He smiled at her. “So am I,” he said. “I certainly never imagined meeting anyone like you, Aelia.”
Aelia’s stomach fluttered pleasantly. “I never thought I’d meet anyone like you, either.”
“Are you guys done?” asked Fulgor’s voice from behind them and Aelia froze. “Or are you just going to coo at one another until the moons come up?” Aelia turned. Her brother was hovering above the surface of the springs with an expression of exaggerated disgust, and she couldn’t help scowling at him.
“You’re one to talk,” she told him. “You could do with a little more scrubbing. There’s still a patch of pink on your right side.” True, it was only faint, but it was still visible. And it clashed badly with Fulgor’s natural orange.
He stuck his tongue out at her. “It’ll wear off in a day or two. Nobody else is going to notice. But you two don’t look like you’ve done anything but talk since we got here.”
Aelia could feel her scowl deepening. That was a blatant exaggeration-Acylius was now mostly clean, and the only pollen left on Aelia was on her wings, and she was going to need Papa to paint over that.
Behind her, Acylius cleared his throat. “Well, perhaps you could assist us?” he asked, tentatively. He waded around to Aelia’s side and extended a hand. “There must have been places that you had trouble reaching by yourself. If I worked on those while Aelia helps me with the spot under my wings…”
Fulgor made a show of considering. Aelia tried to decide whether or not she should be annoyed with Acylius for being so sensible. Before she could make up her mind, Fulgor nodded magnanimously and took Acylius’s hand.
Acylius pulled hard and Fulgor yelped, tumbling down into the water. Aelia took a step backwards to get out of reach of her brother’s mad thrashing. She could feel the puzzled expression on her face as she looked at Acylius. He returned her look with one of complete innocence, while Fulgor spluttered and wiped the water out of his eyes.
“Well, you did say that he could do with some more scrubbing,” he said. “And now you don’t need to be annoyed with him.”
Aelia started to laugh.
FANDOM: Insektors
PAIRING: Acylius/Aelia
RATING: G
SUMMARY: The differences between Yukdom and Joyceland run deeper than just music, flowers and kolors.
WARNINGS: Siblings being siblings.
NOTES: The Joyces that Fulgor and Aelia refer to are two of the dragonfly squadron; their call signs are Tango-Zulu and Oscar-Papa.
The day that Prince Acylius came to Flower City was an educational one for Aelia. She didn’t usually like to be wrong-Fulgor never let her forget it-but that day, she was glad to be. She learned that Yuks were not uniformly destructive, that at least one of them was capable of appreciating flowers as more than fuel for war machines, and that it was entirely possible for a Yuk to be happy about something other than ruining a Joyce’s day. That last discovery had led to another, which Aelia would be keeping to herself: the laughter of Prince Acylius as he looped joyfully across the sky was the nicest sound that she had ever heard. It made her feel warm and fluttery, and glad that Fulgor was more focused on their new friend than he was on her, or he would have noticed something and teased her mercilessly.
It was just a pity that Acylius’s laughter kept being cut short by startled yelps as he lost control of his flight and began another uncontrolled dive. After the prince’s second tumble into one of the tulips that grew around the base of the Great Flower (after the first, Aelia had promised herself that the next flower cultivar she created would be another tulip, in thanks), they agreed that something would have to change.
“Most beginners try flying straight before going into loops and spirals like that,” said Fulgor teasingly. “Maybe we should try that.”
Acylius, still panting, managed to looked sheepish. “Yes, that might be a good idea. I suspect I have been a little ambitious.”
“Just a little,” said Aelia. “Are you alright?” She couldn’t help drifting a little closer to the flower.
“Perfectly fine,” Acylius said, swallowing. His breathing began to even out. “I’m sorry, Aelia. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Ambition isn’t a bad thing, but let’s try something a little simpler so that you can build up your confidence.” She smiled at him. “I’m sure you’ll be turning loops in no time, but you can’t do that if you’re laid up with a strained wing. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Fulgor, who was hovering on the other side of the flower and out of Acylius’s sight, pretended silently to gag, and then grinned at Aelia’s responding scowl. Acylius, glancing from one to the other, wisely chose not to involve himself. After a brief discussion, they relocated to the daisy patch, not far from where Acylius had abandoned the Koa.
“It’s a good place for basic practice,” explained Aelia, in response to Acylius’s question. “The flowers are nice and broad, so there’s less chance of a long fall, and the centres are quite soft.”
“You’ll want to aim for them if you’re coming in too quickly for a safe landing,” added Fulgor. “They’ll absorb the impact. You might end up covered in pollen again, though.”
“I don’t mind,” said Acylius. “I’d rather be covered in pollen than mud.”
“Really?” said Fulgor. “I’d rather be covered in mud. Pollen gets up your nose and in your eyes.”
Acylius looked vaguely alarmed. Aelia snickered. “Only if you dive into it face-first,” she said.
Fulgor tried to look dignified. “Sometimes,” he said, “face-planting just happens.”
“Yes,” said Aelia, trying and failing to sound stern. “Especially when you decide that a triple loop is an excellent way to come out of a corkscrew. I’d never seen anyone fly face-first into a bluebell before.” She turned to Acylius. “Bluebells point downwards,” she explained. “Usually, to fly straight into one, you’d have to approach from the ground.”
Acylius’s mouth shaped a silent ‘oh’, and he nodded his understanding.
Fulgor rolled his eyes. “Anyway. Let’s practice turning. Keep an eye on your height while you lean into it, or you’ll drift downwards and maybe run into something.”
“While you’re starting, it’s best to stay a good distance above any potential obstacle,” added Aelia. “Just in case.”
With Aelia on one side and Fulgor on the other, Acylius flew back and forth across the daisy patch. They started with broad, shallow curves-more veering than turning, Fulgor said-then gradually increased the length and angle. Acylius took each one with an expression of deep concentration that Aelia found endearing, and each successful pass made him grin with an almost childish delight. Aelia couldn’t help giggling as she praised him for his achievements, and even Fulgor couldn’t suppress a grin.
“Alright,” he said eventually. “Let’s see if we can turn all the way around. Keep it tight, Acylius.”
“Right,” the prince muttered, and leaned. He had managed almost the complete turn, in as tight and flat a circle as his teachers could have wished, when he wobbled, yelped, and began to dip towards the daisies. Aelia gasped, but before she or Fulgor could dive for him, Acylius struggled back up again with a few frantic wingbeats. He panted for a moment, and now that the risk of a fall was gone, Aelia couldn’t help giggling a little. Acylius gave her a sheepish smile, which only made her giggle harder.
“I lost my rhythm,” he said, apologetically. “I still have to think about it.”
Aelia managed to get her laughter under control. “Don’t worry,” she said as soothingly as she could. “It will become automatic with practice. And even the best fliers sometimes stop mid-wingbeat if they’re really surprised.”
Fulgor started to chuckle. “And sometimes only one wing will stop while the other keeps going, and then you end up spinning like a top. Remember when Orpah asked Teezee-”
Aelia burst out laughing. “Yes! She was so surprised that she spiralled nearly to the ground before she levelled out! And poor Orpah was circling in the opposite direction-”
“And everyone watching thought that they’d skipped straight to courtship dancing, and it was days before anyone believed that they had only just arranged their first date!”
Aelia clapped her hands over her mouth in an attempt to control her laughter. It was probably more than the memory deserved, but that didn’t seem very important at the moment. Especially when Fulgor was laughing just as hard, the both of them cackling like lunatics, while Acylius-
Aelia glanced at Acylius. The expression on his face was a mixture of concern and confusion and polite interest that was, for some reason, the funniest thing she had ever seen.
She hit the middle of a daisy with a thump that did nothing to jolt her out of her laughter. Golden pollen swirled up around her, and a tiny part of her was relieved that at least it wasn’t orange or pink. Warm yellow went reasonably well with her bluish-purple colouring, so she could probably get away without having to ask Papa to repaint her wings. That always took forever.
“Aelia! Are you alright?” That was Acylius, and his obvious distress at her ‘fall’ finally made the laughter taper off.
“I’m fine!” she called once she had her breath back, and pushed herself to her feet. “See? Daisies make excellent landing pads.” Her eyes were still blurry with tears, and she wiped at them. “And you just got an extra demonstration of how experienced fliers can still fall if they lose their focus…” She trailed off. Fulgor had regained control over himself sooner than she had, but now he had collapsed again, his legs kicking helplessly as he rocked back and forth in the air. And Acylius had a very peculiar expression on her face. “What is it?” she asked.
Fulgor pointed at her, but he was laughing too hard to speak. Aelia planted her hands on her hips. “Yes, I’m covered in pollen,” she said tartly. “What of it? It’s not the first time it’s happened, and it won’t be the last.”
“Aelia,” said Acylius, his voice oddly strained. “It’s-it’s your face…”
“My face?” Aelia put a hand to her cheek-then paused. Her hands were covered in yellow pollen from when she had pushed herself up off the flower. Which meant… “Oh, sputtering sparks,” she said. Random smears from wiping her face were very different to the almost-artful swirls that her impromptu landing had given her wings. She must look a sight.
Acylius’s self-control broke, and he started to laugh just as hard and as loudly as Fulgor. Aelia rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, laugh it up,” she said, with exaggerated exasperation. “I’m so glad that I can amuse you.” This had its expected effect on Fulgor-redoubled laughter and no sign of any apology-but Acylius stopped laughing as though she had hit him. He looked appalled, and for the life of her, Aelia couldn’t figure out why. She had liked hearing Acylius laugh; she hadn’t wanted him to stop.
The sudden silence from the prince had brought Fulgor out of his own fit. “Hey, what’s the matter?” he asked.
“I-” began Acylius, then stuck. His appalled look had faded into shame-the same look that had been on his face by the mud puddle earlier, when she had shouted at him about lying to her. Aelia’s stomach twisted. She didn’t want to see that look on Acylius’s face ever again, especially not over something so harmless.
She bent, grabbed a double handful of yellow, and let fly. One flew straight over Fulgor’s head-her left hand was definitely less coordinated than her right-but the other hit him straight in the chest, just as she had intended. It left a bright sunburst on his orange carapace, and an expression of stunned surprise on his face.
Aelia started to giggle again, just managing to get out, “Now who’s laughing?”
Fulgor looked down at himself and groaned. “Aelia!”
“What? It serves you right. And besides, I think it looks rather good. Don’t you think so, Acylius?”
Acylius looked almost as shocked as Fulgor-but at least he didn’t look guilty anymore. “Um, I suppose?” he said, hesitantly.
Aelia thrust one fist in the air, and laughed harder at the disgruntled look on Fulgor’s face. “Oh sure,” her brother said. “Side with her. Just remember that you brought this on yourself.”
Acylius blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
Aelia gasped as Fulgor dived for the nearest daisy. “Acylius, move!”
The Yuk prince gave her a startled look, but dodged to one side. He wasn’t quite fast enough. The clump of blue pollen that Fulgor had thrown hit him on the shoulder. He yelped and spun in mid-air, trying desperately to regain his balance. Aelia grabbed another two handfuls of yellow pollen and launched herself into the air. Fulgor rose to meet her, a fistful of kolor in each hand. They circled one another, each trying to get into a position where they could launch their missiles without opening themselves to attack.
“That was a dirty trick,” Fulgor said.
“What? Dirtier than launching an unprovoked attack on an amateur flier?” Since she was facing the right direction, Aelia was kept half an eye on Acylius. He had managed to steady himself without crashing into any of the daisies, but he didn’t seem to know what to do. Rather than arming himself and joining the fray, he was hovering uncertainly out of range.
Aelia’s moment of inattention cost her. When she saw the clump of kolor speeding towards her, she only had time to twist so that it exploded against her hip rather than her stomach.
“Two points to me!” declared Fulgor triumphantly.
“The game’s not over yet!” Aelia shot back, hoping that Acylius would hear her and understand. She beat her wings harder, climbing as fast as she could.
“What’s the matter? Running away?” taunted Fulgor. “I don’t blame you. Even two against one isn’t a fair fight when the one is me.”
“With your swelled head, you’re twice the target!” retorted Aelia. Folding her wings, she dived for her brother. He spun out of the way, but Aelia had been prepared for that. She snapped her left wing open all the way, keeping the right one only partly extended. She spun with her brother, and threw. Both of her makeshift kolor bombs struck home, and she whooped. Then she had to focus on steadying herself before she spiralled into another daisy. When she felt reasonably sure that she was properly upright and not careening sideways, she lifted her head and pointed at Fulgor. “Three points!” she shouted.
Fulgor opened his mouth to reply-and yelped as one pollen clump whizzed past him, and a second hit him on the shoulder and exploded in a burst of pink. Aelia turned to see Acylius standing on a pink daisy, kolored to the elbows and already with another two clumps in hand.
“Er,” he said. “Four points?”
Aelia laughed in delight and dived for the nearest daisy to reload.
The Great Pyro found them as the sun was setting, and promptly send them off to the springs to get themselves cleaned up. All three were so thoroughly splattered with pollen that Fulgor had made a joke about calling in the bees to collect from them, since they clearly counted as flowers now. Aelia rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder, telling him to stop spreading misinformation. Pollen collection did not work that. Fulgor had pretended to spin out of control, but Aelia only shrugged and flew on. To her satisfaction, Acylius didn’t pause for more than a moment before following her. Several times during their play fight, Fulgor had caught Acylius out with similar deceptions, and it looked like the Yuk prince was learning to tell the difference between controlled and uncontrolled falls.
When Fulgor caught up to them again, he was pouting, and he complained that Aelia and Acylius were no fun. This made them both giggle, and Fulgor looked even more put-out. It was a good thing that they had reached the springs at that point, before Aelia and Acylius could start laughing hard enough to fall out of the sky again. As it was, Fulgor took himself off to the other end of the springs, where he could sulk in peace.
“Don’t worry about him,” said Aelia, as Acylius glanced after him. “He’ll be over it in ten minutes, and then he’ll be back to pester us some more.” She scooped water over his shoulder, rubbing gently to dislodge the pigment. “Did you have fun?”
“I did, yes,” said Acylius, sounding almost surprised. Aelia couldn’t stop another giggle from escaping her.
“Are you sure? You don’t sound sure,” she said.
He seemed to miss the teasing tone. “I’m sure that I had fun,” he said slowly. “I’m just not certain that I should have.”
It took Aelia a moment to parse the statement. She stopped scrubbing at Acylius’s shoulder and leaned around him to get a good look at his face. He looked pensive. “You’re not sure whether you should have had fun?” Aelia asked, baffled. “Why not? It was just a game. Haven’t you ever played something like that before?”
“I haven’t, but that wasn’t what I meant.” Aelia sucked in a shocked breath, but before she could say anything, Acylius went on, “It was…the way that things started.”
“The way that things started?” Her stomach dropped. “You mean with me throwing that pollen at Fulgor?” She hadn’t realised that it had bothered him that much. And then she had pulled him into it too by asking his opinion on how Fulgor looked with the pollen splatter…
“Er, no,” said Acylius, sounding slightly confused. “That was perfectly understandable. I meant…” He trailed off, and then Aelia felt him straighten slightly, as though he was steeling himself to say something unpleasant. “I meant the way that Fulgor and I were laughing at you because of the pollen on your face. It wasn’t very nice of us.”
Aelia stared at him. He was holding himself very stiffly, as though bracing himself for some kind of reprimand, and she couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing, backing up a step so that she could wrap her arms around her middle. She heard sloshing as Acylius turned around, probably to stare at her in disbelief, and she tried to get herself under control. It took a few moments.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” she said, wiping at her eyes again. “I don’t mind at all. It was pretty funny. You’d think that since I’d just pushed myself up, I’d remember that I’d have pollen all over my hands.”
Acylius was staring at her in complete disbelief. “You don’t mind that we were laughing at you?”
“But you weren’t really laughing at me,” said Aelia. “You were laughing at the situation. That’s a very different thing.”
Acylius blinked at her. “It is?”
“Of course! We’re friends, Acylius. I knew that you weren’t being mean.” She snorted, and added, “I wasn’t so sure about Fulgor. That’s why I threw the pollen at him.”
Her joke did not have its intended effect. Acylius looked, if possible, even more confused than before. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. How can it not be cruel to laugh at someone else’s misfortune?”
Aelia’s amusement died. “Is that the only reason that someone would laugh, in the Stump? To mock someone else?”
“Er,” said Acylius. “Perhaps not the only reason, but it’s certainly the most common. I understand that one can laugh at something without meaning for it to belittle someone else, but… It always seemed unfair, to laugh at someone for a mistake or something beyond their control.”
“Oh,” said Aelia. Inwardly, she vowed that she would never let Acylius be taken back to the City of Shadows if she could help it. She’d known that it was horrible, but this was on another level entirely. “It isn’t quite like that here,” she said. “You can laugh at someone without being mean about it. Sometimes you can be annoying about it-Fulgor’s very good at that-but for something like the pollen, I know that he doesn’t…” She paused for a moment, trying to figure out the right words. Acylius had used ‘belittle’, so… “I know that he doesn’t think any less of me,” she said finally. “Any more than I think less of him when I laughed because I hit him with the pollen clump. Friends can laugh at each other without hurting feelings-even play tricks on one another, so long as nobody gets hurt.”
“Really?”
“Sure. Fulgor and I do it all the time, especially if one of us has annoyed the other. It gets us both to laugh, and then we don’t need to be annoyed anymore.”
Acylius was silent for a moment as he absorbed this. Then he shook his head, not quite looking at her. “It’s so much more different here than I thought,” he said.
“In a good way, I hope,” said Aelia. He looked up at her, and she smiled at him. After a moment, he smiled back.
“Certainly in a good way,” he said. “It’s just more extensive than I thought. I wanted to come to Flower City because I knew that there would be flowers and kolors and music, but I didn’t know that there would even be differences in why you would laugh.” He shook his head. “Not that you hear much of that, in the Stump. I think I heard more laughter in five minutes of our game than I would hear in a whole year in Yukdom. Hardly a place conducive to amusement. It’s so dreary; nothing but the sounds of mining and the dripping of the water coming in, and all the tunnels look the same.”
“I know,” said Aelia. Acylius looked startled, and she explained, “Fulgor got himself captured not long ago, and I had to go rescue him. I was only there for a little while, but I don’t know how much longer I could have stood it. I certainly don’t know how anyone could live there. It’s just so…depressing.”
Acylius smiled a wry smile. “You know, when Krabo locked me in my room this morning, I told him that. That it was depressing, I mean. And he told me that my finding it depressing was excellent news. Apparently, I was showing progress.” He was trying to make light of it, Aelia could tell, but the words still made her heart clench. She wanted, suddenly, to put her arms around Acylius and just hold him, and she felt her face heat. It was entirely too early to be considering that kind of thing. So instead, she stepped forward again and gently touched his arm.
“I’m so glad that you escaped,” she said.
He smiled at her. “So am I,” he said. “I certainly never imagined meeting anyone like you, Aelia.”
Aelia’s stomach fluttered pleasantly. “I never thought I’d meet anyone like you, either.”
“Are you guys done?” asked Fulgor’s voice from behind them and Aelia froze. “Or are you just going to coo at one another until the moons come up?” Aelia turned. Her brother was hovering above the surface of the springs with an expression of exaggerated disgust, and she couldn’t help scowling at him.
“You’re one to talk,” she told him. “You could do with a little more scrubbing. There’s still a patch of pink on your right side.” True, it was only faint, but it was still visible. And it clashed badly with Fulgor’s natural orange.
He stuck his tongue out at her. “It’ll wear off in a day or two. Nobody else is going to notice. But you two don’t look like you’ve done anything but talk since we got here.”
Aelia could feel her scowl deepening. That was a blatant exaggeration-Acylius was now mostly clean, and the only pollen left on Aelia was on her wings, and she was going to need Papa to paint over that.
Behind her, Acylius cleared his throat. “Well, perhaps you could assist us?” he asked, tentatively. He waded around to Aelia’s side and extended a hand. “There must have been places that you had trouble reaching by yourself. If I worked on those while Aelia helps me with the spot under my wings…”
Fulgor made a show of considering. Aelia tried to decide whether or not she should be annoyed with Acylius for being so sensible. Before she could make up her mind, Fulgor nodded magnanimously and took Acylius’s hand.
Acylius pulled hard and Fulgor yelped, tumbling down into the water. Aelia took a step backwards to get out of reach of her brother’s mad thrashing. She could feel the puzzled expression on her face as she looked at Acylius. He returned her look with one of complete innocence, while Fulgor spluttered and wiped the water out of his eyes.
“Well, you did say that he could do with some more scrubbing,” he said. “And now you don’t need to be annoyed with him.”
Aelia started to laugh.