Thwack.
The sound of a bolt hitting solid wood reverberated through the air.
“It’s still pulling a bit to the left,” Noah noted, lowering the crossbow and handing it to the artificer.
“And it’s too heavy,” Bryn said with a nod. “If we’re going to give it to men, they’ll need something lighter.”
“I’m a man,” Noah countered, trying not to sound offended.
“A human man,” she clarified. “Can you imagine Cael trying to lift this?”
The image of the slight Fae man flashed through Noah’s mind, making him chuckle. “Okay, I see your point,” he conceded as he walked toward the target. “Still though. Good penetration with this version. That’s gotta be… what, twelve centimeters?”
She stepped beside him and gave the bolt an appraising look. “Yes.”
“That should be more than enough to punch clean through a Corrupted.”
“Or a griffon,” Ciri added without looking up from the papers spread out in front of her.
“Or a griffon,” Noah agreed. “Though maybe this design is a bit overkill.”
The three of them stood in a small fenced-in yard behind Bryn’s workshop. They’d spent most of the last four days there, building and testing crossbow designs. Now that they finally had a working prototype, Noah could almost feel the anticipation of their upcoming trip humming under his skin.
Just a few more tweaks. Then I’ll be ready.
“Over… kill?” Bryn repeated, pulling him from his thoughts.
“Uh—human term. It means it’s too powerful. We could probably sacrifice some stopping power for less weight. We might mount one of these in a fixed position to defend something important, but if we want people to carry them around, we’ll need something smaller.”
“Yes. Smaller is a good idea,” Bryn agreed. “Though I am still concerned about how long it takes to load a new bolt and wind the winch. If Cael’s first shot does not kill or severely maim, he may not have the opportunity to take a second one.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Noah said. “In my world, people eventually developed something called ‘repeater’ crossbows. They can load and fire five to ten bolts in quick succession.”
“Why haven’t we been building that then?” Bryn asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Because I never learned how the loading system works,” he admitted. “But now that we have a working prototype, I’m confident we can figure it out together. Let’s head in and I’ll start drafting some design ideas.”
“Not so fast!” Cael called, poking his head out the back door. “Lunch is ready! Come eat while it’s still hot.”
Noah glanced back to see the Fae man wearing an apron—light blue, dusted with flour. His hair was tied back in a ponytail, and he carried a tray piled high with sandwiches.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the reversal of gender roles here, Noah thought as he and Bryn walked away from the target.
“Ciri, dear, I’m sure what you’re doing is important, but I need you to move it so I can put this down,” Cael said as he approached the table.
“What? Oh. Yes. Sorry.” She hurriedly gathered her hand‑drawn maps, pulling them toward herself to clear the small outdoor table they’d set up for her.
“How’s that… what did you call it?” Bryn asked.
“Protractor,” Noah supplied as Cael set the tray down.
“Right. Protractor. How’s that treating you?” Bryn asked, settling heavily onto a sturdy wooden stool.
“Excellent.” Ciri replied as she put her materials into her bag. “It is an ingenious device, just like the other ones you created for me.”
Noah glanced at her satchel and smiled. Tucked safely beside the protractor was a recently forged geometry set, complete with a metal ruler and a drafting compass. Ciri had been obsessing over them all morning, checking and rechecking the rough calculations they’d made to narrow down the location of the second mirror even further.
The less time we have to spend in that forest, the better, he thought.
Truth be told, the hardest part of creating the small tools had been translating the measurements. Ciri’s language spell handled the verbal conversion between metric and the Fae units of measure, but the translation broke down the moment they tried to write anything on paper. More than a few prototypes had come out too long, misshapen, or otherwise useless.
“As much as I’m glad you’re having fun making weapons, are you sure you shouldn’t be tending to your other requests?” Cael asked, looking at Bryn. “You promised you’d finish that new section of pipe for Sylvara by the end of the day tomorrow, and you haven’t even started.”
“I’ll get it done, husband,” Bryn said between bites. “With the improvements Noah’s made to our workshop, it’ll take half the time—maybe even less!”
Noah shrugged. “It was nothing, really. Just some clamps and vises, precision measuring tools, and standardizing your parts so you don’t have to custom-forge everything. You’d have had the same ideas if you’d seen a factory in my world.”
“But we haven’t,” Bryn countered. “And that’s why your insight is valuable.”
“The next round of changes is going to be more revolutionary, I promise. This is just the start.”
“Oh?” Bryn asked as Ciri produced a fresh sheet of paper, ready to take notes.
“No. No more talking about work for the moment,” Cael cut in. “Eat, all of you.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Noah reached forward and took a sandwich. He inspected it for a moment—some sort of mystery meat, breaded and cooked, then covered in a yellowish sauce. The whole thing was topped with leafy greens between two thick slabs of bread.
He took a bite and groaned instantly. “Oh damn,” he said through a mouthful. “Cael, this is really good.”
Bryn smiled proudly and kissed Cael on the cheek. “He is an excellent cook.”
“It tastes like fried chicken.”
“What is chicken?” Cael asked, taking a smaller bite of his own sandwich.
“Flightless bird. Comes in a couple different colors—white, brown, sometimes black. Humans farm them.”
“Oh. Yes. I have heard stories about them,” Ciri said, nodding before taking a bite. “And they taste like this?”
“Yeah, more or less. What did you say this was?”
“Mossback skink,” Cael replied, pausing when he saw Noah’s blank look. “It’s a large green lizard.”
Noah took another bite. “Well, you make it taste good.”
“Thank you,” Cael said with a smile.
As the four of them chatted and ate, Hruk wandered out of the workshop and flopped down in the grass at Noah’s feet. Noah scratched the dog’s belly for a few moments, prompting him to roll over and wiggle back and forth. Only when Bryn offered him a piece of food that had fallen to the ground did he get up to investigate.
“Good boy,” Bryn said softly as he scarfed it down.
Finishing his sandwich, Noah leaned back on his stool and took in the scene. Behind him, a magically powered metal smelting oven belched smoke from its top. A heap of discarded metal objects lay in the corner opposite the wooden table and chairs they sat on. Beneath their feet was soft grass, and enclosing them was a thick wooden fence separating the backyard from their neighbors—an oddity for Fae, or so he’d been told.
Of course, most Fae don’t have sharp objects and molten iron in their backyards, so some precautions are probably a good idea.
As Ciri finished her sandwich, she surprised him by placing her hand on his leg. He smiled at the contact and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She leaned over, resting her head on his chest and closing her eyes.
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Bryn said as she looked at the two of them.
Ciri’s eyes shot open, and she sat up, blushing furiously. Seeing that she’d interrupted a tender moment, Cael glared at his wife, shaking his head. He stood and began clearing the remaining food, his movements a little too sharp to be casual, his pastel blue apron fluttering as he walked back into the workshop.
“Men,” Bryn muttered, rolling her eyes before looking at Noah. “I mean—uh—well…”
“It’s fine,” Noah said, waving her off. “I’m getting used to it.”
“I just—I wanted—ah, damnit, I don’t know how to say this.” Bryn stumbled over her words, blushing almost as much as Ciri. “Many of us in the tribe thought Ciri would never find a man. Seeing the two of you be physically affectionate is… it’s nice.”
“She’s right here. You can tell her,” Noah said, gesturing to a shrinking Ciri.
“I am. And I’m telling you too.”
Resisting the urge to tease her further, Noah simply smiled. “Thank you. That’s kind of you to say. Do you want to go in and check on Cael? We’ll be in there in a minute, and we can talk about upgrades to the workshop.”
“Yes. That’d be a good idea,” she said, standing and heading inside.
He waited until she was out of earshot before turning to Ciri. She was still blushing, but had pulled a book from her satchel and buried her nose in it. Her crimson cheeks, long pointed ears, and pink hair somehow made her seem even more adorable in that moment.
Not to mention the fact that she’s got the body of a model under that trench coat, he thought.
“You know… as awkward as Bryn was about it, she’s not wrong.”
Ciri’s eyes stopped moving across the page, though she didn’t look up. “About…which…part?”
“About being more physically affectionate with each other.”
“I…well, yes.”
"To be clear: I'm not complaining. I love the way we cuddled on your bed last night while you taught me Common. I feel happy when you reach for my hand while we're walking down the street. I want you next to me all the time." He paused. "But at the same time, it brings up an important question."
"...yes?" she whispered.
"How comfortable are you with even more? In terms of physical contact." He blurted out, unable to find another way to phrase it. "To be clear: I'm not trying to pressure you into anything. I don't want to go any further than you're comfortable with. But I do want to keep doing what we're doing, and go to the next step if and when you're ready." He paused. “I can cover my eyes if you want me to.”
“No. I…would prefer to see you for this part.” She said despite looking resolutely at her book. "I am...not experienced. In this. Romance, I mean. You know this."
"You mentioned that, yeah."
"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific. What...specifically...does the next level entail?"
Oh boy. He thought. "How about something like a kiss? Would you be comfortable with that?"
"Yes." She answered instantly, placing the book down. "I have...wanted that. For some time now. I have been…anxious…to initiate though. I have no practical experience, so I may require…guidance. Especially if we are to proceed beyond kissing."
His heart softened at her vulnerability before his mind caught up with her words. “Wait, beyond kissing?”
“Yes. I am talking about sex.” She said, avoiding looking at him.
“Wow. Uh, I wasn’t sure you were ready for that conversation, but I’m definitely interested in having it if you are.” He paused. “Just to clarify, what do you mean when you say sex? After all, not all sex has to be penetrative, and we can talk about boundaries and what we like and don't like, but maybe we should start by talking about sexual acts you might want to try like—" He stopped suddenly. "I'm...realizing I should have asked this sooner, but...you have all the same body parts as human women, right? I mean, I've never seen a Fae woman naked, but I'm assuming you have a—"
"Yes." She interjected, saving him the embarrassment.
"Okay good."
“To all of it.” She added.
He blinked. “I’m sorry, you lost me there.”
“I want to have sex with you.” She said. “To clarify: not right here and in this moment. However, it is something I would like to experience. With you. However, I feel it only fair to warn you: you would be my first.”
"I kinda gathered as much." He smiled. "It's okay. We'll take it slow. And to be clear, I'm not talking about us having sex right this second. I'd like to take you on a real date first. That feels only right. Maybe after we this magic mirror business figured out."
"A...date?"
"Yeah. You know, spending time together doing something we like?"
"This is not a concept I am familiar with."
He furrowed his brow. " I may need a book or two on Fae courtship rituals. And...some help reading them."
"I will assist you," she assured him.
"Okay. Thank you. I know it's not conventional, but we're...probably not a conventional couple, are we?"
"No," she said, unable to keep the smile from her face at his use of the word 'couple'. "We are not."
The same smile almost reached his face before another thought occurred to him. "Wait, I should ask then. What are your limits? It sounded like you were hesitant a few seconds ago, but if you're okay with everything up to and including sex, what did you think I was going to ask about?"
"I thought...well...um..." She stuttered before blurting it out. "I've heard stories of human fertility. And their desire to have offspring. I thought you were going to ask me to...well..."
"Sorry, what?!" Noah asked incredulously as he realized where she was going.
"To clarify, I believe I would want to have offspring one day," she started speaking quickly. "Just not right now. I don't believe I have the prerequisite skills or temperament at this current moment to—"
"Ciri, stop." Noah held up a hand. "It's fine. I'm not looking for kids right now either. Maybe in the future."
"Good. So...we are agreed."
"Yeah." He chuckled softly as he brushed a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. "I...don't even think we're compatible that way. I mean, sure we might have the right parts, but—"
"We are," she interrupted.
"—I...wait, what?"
"Humans and Fae have produced offspring before."
"Oh. Damn. I...didn't see that coming, to be honest." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Are...contraceptives a thing here? Birth control?"
"There is an herbal tea that women drink when they wish to...be intimate without becoming pregnant," Ciri revealed.
"Oh. Okay, good. That's good then. We should get some of that tea before we're intimate."
"...I started drinking it last night. My mothers gave me enough to last several months."
He shook his head. "How did they...know?"
"When you left my room last night, they saw you. They told me of the...well...bulge. In your pants."
Noah put his face in his hands. "Ugh. I was trying to hide that."
"If that is the case, you were doing a poor job. I felt it against me as we were...cuddling, as you said."
"Ciri, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"You could do it again tonight if you wish," she interrupted, causing Noah to freeze.
For a heartbeat, they simply looked at each other. Then they leaned in, drawn together by something almost magnetic. Noah’s pulse quickened as their lips hovered centimeters apart, their noses brushing. He held there, savoring the delicious tension of the moment.
It didn’t last.
Ciri closed the distance first, her soft pink lips brushing his. Their eyes fluttered shut as the kiss deepened, their bodies pressing together. Noah’s hand slid up the curve of her thigh in its tight leather, skimmed her hip, and settled at the small of her back. At the same time, Ciri cupped the back of his neck, as if anchoring him to her.
For a long moment, the world fell away. Noah’s usually racing mind went quiet, replaced by her floral scent, the tickle of her hair against his cheek, the warmth of her mouth on his. Only when they finally broke apart, gasping, did they realize they’d forgotten to breathe.
“Uh… wow,” Noah said, leaning back.
“Was that… good?”
“That was… better than good. I thought you said this was your first kiss.”
“It was.” She smiled, her golden eyes locked on his green ones again.
“How did you learn to kiss like that, then?”
“Books. In the archive.”
“The ancient Fae had books on how to kiss?”
“Not exactly. They were… fictional books. Stories. With kissing in them. And several other things besides.”
Ah. Smutty romance novels. A constant across all universes, apparently. He grinned. “Well, maybe we’ll have to read some of them together. Once you teach me to read, of course.”
“You would… do that for me?”
“How else am I supposed to act them out with you?” His grin widened.
She flushed scarlet, looking away but smiling. “I would like that very much.”