Chapter Text
Farid pokes at his slowly dying fire, listening to the flames whisper. The weather has been rainy for days now, soaking nearly everything on the forest floor. Keeping a fire going, even with his power, has been proving difficult. The flames are too tired in the rain; so eager to go to sleep. And Farid, soaked to the bone, is about ready to call it quits and fall to sleep too.
He blows on his wet, chilly fingers in hopes of warming them, but he can hardly get an ember's glow going. Unable to help himself, Farid sighs out. "I miss you, Dustfinger." He misses him more than he could ever miss anyone. "... So much."
Farid urges the flames to simply succumb to exhaustion and go out, That way, he has nothing to worry over as he sleeps. Or, at least attempts to sleep. The chill will make sleeping quite difficult.
He misses the days of curling in to Dustfinger's side, who felt like he had a fire burning inside him at all times. But, of course ...those days are now gone.
It's been two winters since Farid last laid his eyes on his beloved Dustfinger. Two horrible years of knowing the one who loves him is staying in a sham of a marriage out of guilt.
Damn Roxanne. She hasn't the slightest idea of just how lucky she is. The greatest man to ever live chose HER! Gave up a life he truly loved ... FOR HER! It breaks another piece of Farid's off, landing in a pile of shards at the bottom of his soul.
Farid can only hope that his darling Dustfinger has managed to find some semblance of happiness.
Farid manages to smile every day; just like Dustfinger asked of him. He has to. He can't let Dustfinger down. ...
But has he found happiness? ... That's an entirely different question.
He finds joy in dancing and playing with fire, of course. Dancing makes him feel close to his dear friend and love.
In fact, if he simply closes his eyes, he could swear Dustfinger was dancing by his side, his fire crackling lively. He feels the heat of Dustfinger's flames and hears his soft voice as he breathes his flames into a blazing storm.
Farid longs for these moments, when Dustfinger feels close enough to touch. So, in turn, he is now very good at performing difficult stunts with his eyes closed. It's quite the crowd pleaser; he even uses a blindfold to make it more dramatic.
He used to dream of the day he'd see Dustfinger again, but ... He knows better now. There's no hope of that; not if he wants to respect Dustfinger's last wish to him.
So now, he dances only for himself ... It's rather lonely, indeed.
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Dustfinger grins, seeing the Black Prince's camp just up ahead.
He's been wandering alone for some time now; he's well past due for some human interaction. Especially with an old friend.
Dustfinger is quite excited to see Prince, hoping he's perhaps seen any sign of Farid. If anyone travels enough to find Farid, besides himself of course, it's Prince and the Motley Folk.
"Dustfinger!" Prince exclaims in delighted surprise, belting his throwing knives. "How are you, my friend? You're looking well."
Dustfinger knows that that last part is a lie. He must look horrendous. Even though his life has much improved since leaving Roxanne, he's still been a mess looking for Farid.
Almost seeming to read Dustfinger's mind, Prince looks behind him and asks, "Where is Farid? I wouldn't expect to see the two of you apart." Dustfinger heaves a long, tired sigh, hanging his head in disappointment. Well, that answers his question about whether or not Prince has seen the boy.
"I'm ... I'm trying to find him." Dustfinger says softly, gesturing around at the woodland around them.
"Two years, Prince." he whispers. "I've been searching for two years. He's simply vanished!" Prince lays a comforting hand on Dustfinger's shaking shoulder.
"We'll find him together, Dustfinger." he vows, looking into Dustfinger's tired eyes. "I promise, I'm going to help you." Dustfinger breathes a shaky sigh of relief. Thank god.
And Dustfinger can think of saying nothing else. "Thank you, Prince." he whispers. "Thank you."'
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Despair is a truly horrid feeling. It's powerful and all-consuming.
During the day, Dustfinger never lets it show. No, he holds out hope as he walks across the land in search of his best friend.
Dustfinger had heard dozens and dozens of stories about a mighty and beautiful firedancer who lights the sky ablaze and makes flowers of flame bloom from the ground.
A dancer with dark skin and even darker eyes. A dancer who doesn't only dance, but helps and defends people who have no one else to do it. People are starting to see this dancer as a real hero. ...
It's Farid; Dustfinger knows it is. And he couldn't be any prouder of him! But ...
Dustfinger stares into the fire lit in front of him, letting out a small sigh. All those adventures that Farid's having, Dustfinger feels he should be having too. He and Farid belong side by side after all.
"Good afternoon, my friend." Prince greets, coming to sit by Dustfinger's side. Prince's mighty black bear joins them, lying down next to his master.
Dustfinger nods in acknowledgment, but doesn't tear his eyes away from the fire.
"Share your troubles with me." Prince urges, putting his hand on Dustfinger's shoulder. But Dustfinger just sighs and shakes his head. There's no need for him to burden Prince with his emotional woeing.
From the front of the camp, Dustfinger can hear music playing and people clapping excitedly. Prince notices this too, a smile coming to his face.
"Come." he says, patting Dustfinger's shoulder encouragingly. "Let's join in the festivities." ...
But Dustfinger doesn't feel like enjoying other people's merriment. As pitiful as it is, he'd much rather stay here and stare into the flames. Sadly, Prince is having none of that.
"Come." he urges once more, standing up and holding out his hand. "You must never forget to live, Dustfinger."
Heaving a long sigh, Dustfinger rises to his feet and follows his friend, the bear in tow.
Reaching the front of the camp, flames suddenly come into view. The flames dance and spin, morphing into a swarm of butterflies that take off toward the sky. Dustfinger's heart stops.
Standing in front of the crowd, spinning and juggling flaming batons with a blindfold on ... ...
"Farid!" Dustfinger shouts his name before he even processes it leaving his mouth.
The dancing flames are immediately extinguished. Farid rips the blindfold from his eyes and looks around the crowd until ...
"Dustfinger!" he screams, rushing the man and leaping into his arms, nearly knocking Dustfinger over. "Dustfinger, you're here!" Farid laughs out, the most beautiful grin on his face. It's a smile that washes away all the hurt in Dustfinger's heart.
"Ohhh, I knew we'd find each other again!" Dustfinger sighs out, hugging Farid tight. "God, I've missed you so much."
Farid can't keep from grinning as he kisses Dustfinger again and again. "And I have missed you, Dustfinger!" he says adoringly, finally touching his feet back to the ground. "Does ... Does this mean-?"
Farid hesitates, but his eyes shine with hope. "Does this mean that we ..."
Dustfinger laughs merrily as he nods to his love. "Yes, Farid." he affirms, grinning wider than he ever had before.
Screaming in his glee, Farid captures Dustfinger's lips once more. "Finally, my love!" he cheers gleefully, earning an agreeing nod from Dustfinger, who whispers back, in love.
"Finally, indeed."