Standard disclaimers for Majutsushi Orphen apply. The only thing I would actually want to own from this series is Majic—well, and Leki, since he looks like a cat ^_^ and I love cats—and seeing as how I don’t own Majic (represented by the fact that Orphen spends too much time lusting after Azalie’s memory and not noticing Majic hanging off his every word and whim), it’s safe to say I don’t own Majutsushi Orphen either. Don’t bother trying to sue; I’ll simply send you one of my numerous manuscripts in retribution.
Warnings: Shounen ai, though there are hints of Cleao’s yearnings for Orphen and reference to a past relationship between Stephanie and Orphen. Some spoilers for the series up to episode ten. This story takes place roughly sometime during episodes eight through ten, so…yeah.
A/N: Think of this as something like conversation snippets, overheard by various characters, causing various reactions. Also, this isn’t written with the thought of rampant shounen ai in mind; it’s written with the idea that love comes in many forms and isn’t always recognised for what it is. Plus, I wanted to do something somewhat cute and fluffy for Christmas, and this is what my demented mind came up with. And, just so you know, I don’t think Majic’s half as stupid as he tries to appear sometimes. ::mutters:: Dumb blonde my ass…
P.S. Have yet to see Majutsushi Orphen: Revenge, but have heard this fic may contradict a few episodes. All I have to say to that is oh well.
“Majic?”
“Hmmm? What is it, Cleao?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Why are you so nice to Orphen even when he treats you like…like…”
Majic smiled faintly, looking out over the dawning starlight of night. “Like his apprentice?” he asked.
“Like dirt!” snapped Cleao, still in a fine fit of temper from their adventure at the ruins of the Wheeled Dragon.
Turning his head, the blonde boy bestowed a beatific smile upon the older girl. “He doesn’t treat me like dirt, Cleao-san,” he murmured. “Oshou-sama… Understand, Cleao, that my father sheltered me most of my life. Mother dying when I was young had a strange effect upon him, and he felt that it was his duty to keep me safe from the outside world—and from myself and my power, I think. I’m a bit naïve, obviously, in areas that I shouldn’t be for my age. Not to mention the fact that the only exercise I ever had was turning down beds, sweeping stairs, and doing dishes. There are certain things that a sorcerer needs to be able to handle both physically and mentally, and, as I am right now, I can’t.”
“So Orphen being an ass is part of training?!”
He winced slightly at her indignant screech. “He has to try something, Cleao-san,” he said softly.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Reeling on her heal, the blonde girl stalked back and forth across the wooden floor of the room, arms laced behind her back. Leki watched his mistress with avid interest, head trolling back and forth in mimicry of her movement.
“My talent’s blocked, Cleao.”
She almost didn’t hear his words, her heals clacking loud, Leki’s purrs filling the air. “Huh? What did you say?”
“My talent’s blocked. Orphen-sama can try and show me all the spells he wants, try and explain sorcerous theory all he wants, but it doesn’t work without my talent.”
She spun to face him, gold hair fanning out behind her. “Let me get this straight, then: Orphen makes you carry everything, do everything, in an effort to break this block on your talent?”
Majic found it sweet how Cleao was upset on his behalf, but he felt it pertinent to point out that her behaviour towards him wasn’t always exemplary either. “Who was it that made me carry her bags when she decided to tail after us from Totokanta? And I seem to remember a certain Everlasting miss who made me fetch all the cooking supplies as well—she even made me peel the potatoes the other night and refused to let me finish cooking, though I had all the ingredients together and everything nearly prepared.”
Cleao blushed, dragging her toe across the floor. “I cooked so that you wouldn’t have to do everything,” she muttered.
“You cooked so you could try and impress Oshou-sama with your talents.”
“So?” Cleao’s blush was darker than ever, making her look as though she’d been in her sister’s makeup once again. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Shaking his head, Majic sighed, leaning sideways in an effort to relieve some of the ache in his shoulders and lower back. “No, Cleao, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
She was sixteen, highly educated, stubborn, pretty, wealthy…and she was beginning to fall in love with Black Sorcerer Orphen, once of the Tower of Fangs. Majic didn’t want her to be hurt, but he knew that nothing he could tell her would change her mind.
After all, nothing his father had said to him had changed his mind, now had it?
“You know, I think we got a bit off track here…”
He was drawn from his musings by Cleao’s growl, looking up to find her face mere centimetres from his own. Gulping, he drew back, eyes wide as he waited for the proverbial axe to fall. “Um, what’s that?”
“Why are you so nice to Orphen?”
He thought for a moment, wondering how best to phrase his reply. “Because I want to do for him what no-one was able to do for me,” he said at last.
“Which is?”
“Take away his pain.”
Silence hung between them for a moment until Cleao burst into gales of laughter. “Take away his pain? That’s a good one, Majic! Huh, the only pain Orphen feels is the pain of knowing that his money comes from your father, and if your father ever found out that Orphen’s an awful teacher, his purse strings would be cut.”
“I’m serious!” said Majic. “And Oshou-sama is a really good teacher. It’s just…I’m not a very good student right now.”
“So…so you mean you were serious when you said you wanted to know about Azalie so that Orphen wouldn’t have to deal with the pain alone?” Cleao stared at him incredulously. “That’s…that’s…”
Majic blushed and looked away. “That’s the way I am, Cleao.”
Throwing up her hands, Cleao sat down beside him, absently leaning her head against her shoulder. “I just don’t understand why, Majic. Orphen’s mean and selfish and condescending and power hungry and…and…”
“He wasn’t always that way. Someday, I’d like to meet the person Oshou-sama was before he fled the Tower of Fangs to find Azalie-san.”
“Forget it, kid. Whoever Orphen was before we met him, he’s too different now to go back.”
“You love him anyway,” said Majic with a small smile.
Cleao sputtered, pulling back to glare at him. “I… Never… What on earth… Just what’s that supposed to mean?!”
Majic continued to smile, bowing his head. “Exactly what it sounds like, Cleao-san. Sometimes…sometimes we love people because of their faults, ne?”
Cleao blushed and sputtered some more, alternately denying Majic’s words and berating him for such a silly notion. Hidden in the shadows, though, sienna eyes watched the pair and mulled over their words.
“Majic!”
“What’s wrong, Cleao-san?”
“You, me, outside, now!”
Hurrying to comply, Majic stumbled over the doorjamb and began to fall down the stairs. Closing his eyes and expecting to end up face-first on the hard cobblestones, he was surprised when a strong grip latched around his wrist and hauled him upright and against a lean, hard body.
“Eh?” Opening his eyes, he looked around, blushing when he realised that it had been Orphen who had saved him from near disaster. “Oshou-sama…”
“Ch’, I swear, you’re one of the most accident-prone kids I’ve ever met. Keep this up and you’ll break your neck before you manage to learn anything useful,” said Orphen. He was smiling, though, which lightened the blow of his harsh words.
Majic smiled abashedly in return. “Yes, Oshou-sama. I’ll try to be more careful.”
Smile turning into a full-out grin, Orphen reached out and ruffled the blonde boy’s hair, making him blush even more. “That’s the ticket to anything, Majic: Just keep trying.”
Chuckling, he turned on his heal, leaving a bemused Majic standing on the landing to the stairs.
“Maaajiiic!”
Shaking his head, he pushed his fanciful thoughts aside. “Yes, Cleao, I’m coming!”
Orphen found Stephanie at the window, looking over towards the fountain where Cleao could be seen wailing and shaking Majic’s smaller form.
“They act almost like siblings,” said Stephanie, pulling her glasses free with a sigh.
“Hmmm, you think so? I’ve found them to have very different temperaments.”
“You like the boy.”
Orphen arched an eyebrow. “Of course I like the boy; otherwise, I never would have agreed to teach him.”
“Does he know that?”
Her question seemed innocuous enough, but it made Orphen’s hackles stand up. “What kind of a question is that, Steph?”
Stephanie turned, giving him a said, wistful smile. “Apparently one that doesn’t concern you,” she murmured.
“Majic?”
“Yes, Oshou-sama?”
“I’ve got a question for you.”
“Yes?”
Orphen gazed the attentive face turned his way, noting how young Majic looked in his too-large pyjamas, curled up beneath a blanket on the floor below the bed. He felt a bit bad that the boy had to sleep on the floor, but it wouldn’t do to refuse Stephanie’s hospitality. Maybe tomorrow they’d move to an inn and Majic could have a bed of his own…
“Oshou-sama?”
Majic’s tentative hand on his startled Orphen from his thoughts, making him grasp the boy’s hand in reflex. Majic gasped, eyes wide in surprise. “Oshou-sama?” he asked again, voice a mere whisper.
There was fear in Majic’s eyes and voice, but it was a fear tempered by strength, by stubborn will…and by something else that Orphen couldn’t put a name to, something that spoke of kindness and tenderness—love—and brought to mind the good memories of Hartia, Azalie, and Childman-sensei.
“Majic, do you…”
Majic bit his lip, waiting for Orphen to finish speaking. When he didn’t, the blonde boy tugged on his wrist, trying to gain his attention. “What’s wrong, Oshou-sama?”
“Do you like being my pupil? I know that my teaching methods probably aren’t what you’re used to…”
Smiling shyly, Majic said, “Everything you show me, Oshou-sama, I learn as best I can. And I’m adaptable; I try to handle whatever you throw at me to the best of my abilities.”
The grip around his wrist loosened, long, callused fingers trailing over the sensitive skin on the inside of his wrist. “But do you like being my pupil?”
Again Majic smiled, adorably innocent, adorably sincere. “Of course I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you, Oshou-sama, and that’s enough for me.”
Orphen released Majic’s wrist with a sigh, shaking his head. “I’m going to take a bath. I suggest you get a full night’s sleep since we have a lot of stuff to do.”
“All right. Good night…Orphen-san.”
He couldn’t help but smile at the cheeky reply as he left the room. Despite appearances, Majic still managed to pleasantly surprise him—and that was refreshing.
The bathhouse off the back of Stephanie’s house was just as he’d remembered it. Statuary and plaques lifted from Tenjin ruins littered the walls and floor surrounding the raised pool, lending an atmosphere of mystery when combined with the heavy steam.
“You look well,” murmured Stephanie as he stripped, eyes perusing his form as he laid his clothes aside on a stool.
“I’ve got a new scar or two, but other than that, not much has changed.” He smiled, motioning for her to scoot over as he slid into the pool, settling himself onto one of the ledges. “Mmmm…”
“Hedonist,” she laughed, splashing water at him.
“So?”
The warm water felt like liquid heaven to his aching muscles, and it—combined with the jasmine and cedar scented oils Stephanie had added to the water—soothed his senses as well as his body. Within minutes, he could feel sleep tugging at his awareness, urging him to return to the refuge of Stephanie’s guest bedroom and Majic’s gentle snores.
“Orphen?”
His eyes fluttered open, gaze drifting to the small window to his right. Moiré littered the velvet blue-black of night, tiny pinpricks of hope in the vast darkness. “Yeah, Steph?”
“Why did you choose to apprentice the boy?”
Orphen shrugged, continuing to look out the window. “Dunno. His oyaji is paying me a lot to train him, though.”
Stephanie nodded, gaze dropping to the water of the bath. She raised her hand, watching tiny droplets fall and ripple across the mirror surface. “I don’t believe you, you know.”
“Hmmm.”
“Don’t you ‘hmmm’ me, Orphen. I want a straight answer: Why did you apprentice the boy?”
Orphen avoided her piercing eyes. “You saw it yourself, Steph. So far he hasn’t shown much actually sorcerous ability, but it’s there. Even when the Tower discovered Azalie and me I don’t think we had that much latent potential. But there’s something blocking it…and I want to know what it is.”
“You speak as though you would make Majic a partner.”
“Wouldn’t you?” Finally looking up, Orphen pinned the man-turned-woman with amber-brown eyes, eyebrows sloping intently. “He has charisma, looks, intelligence…power… I’d be a fool not to train that potential and make him my partner.”
“So, once again, it’s all about you.”
Had anyone else said those words, they would have been dead. As it was, it took great strength of will for Orphen to restrain himself from reaching over and wrapping his hands around Stephanie’s slender, pale throat. “And just what is that supposed to mean?” he bit out through clenched teeth.
Black hair trailed over her breasts, framing and tracing angular cheekbones and jaw line as Stephanie pressed her full lips into a taut line; she should have appeared vulnerable, but, if anything, it was Orphen who felt vulnerable under her haughty glare. “Don’t play dumb, Orphen. It’s always been about you. Why did you go after Azalie? Because you loved her, because no-one else believed in her, because you wanted her back if only to continue adoring her as the perfect idol. Why did you leave the Tower of Fangs and Childman? Because he said things that hurt you, because the Tower betrayed your trust in it. Why did you leave Hartia without a word, the friend who had been loyal to you for years? Because he didn’t understand, because he told you it was foolish to chase after Azalie if the Tower had declared her rogue and dead. It’s always been about you and what you want, Orphen—and it’s no different from your fascination with Majic.”
“It is different!” hissed Orphen, eyes narrowed.
“How? How is it different, Orphen? I watched that boy today and I can see in him the same things I saw in you when we first met. You are Majic’s Azalie—and that thought scares the hell out of me.”
“It’s different because Majic’s different from me, just as I’m different from Azalie.”
Stephanie leaned forward, poking him in the chest. “That boy loves you with a devotion that makes me weep,” she said hoarsely. “Never, in any relationship, have I ever someone so willing to follow another to the gates of hell. He would do anything you asked of him, Orphen. He’s not blind to your faults, either; he loves you in spite of them. So I ask you again, old friend: Why did you apprentice him?”
Orphen bowed his head, arms drifting from the edge of the pool to his lap. “Please don’t, Steph…”
She ignored his hoarse pleas, determined to make him admit the truth to at least himself. “Why, Orphen?”
When Orphen raised his head, Stephanie was only a little surprised to see crystalline droplets pooling in the corners of sienna eyes. “Because he’s my last chance, Steph. My last chance to trust, to think, to feel, to learn…”
“To love,” she said, reaching out to cup his cheek in her hand. Smiling, she brushed the traitorous tears away. “I’m glad. I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to find someone to hold on to, ever.”
“He’s it. For all of his youth, his innocence, he knows.”
“Yes, I had noticed that. He truly is wise beyond his years, isn’t he?”
And then she was holding him, rocking him as a mother would a child, as a sister would a brother. Though her form may have changed since the last time this had happened, her body and mind remembered the comfort felt in the arms of a friend and she tried to convey her feelings to the young man she held. Friend, brother, lover… She kissed his brow, fingers drawing through his hair. “I’m so proud of you, Orphen.”
“For what?” Orphen asked, raising his head with a slight sniffle. His smile was rakish, leaning towards a leer; he’d just had his face pressed to a rather well-endowed pair of breasts, after all.
She pushed him away with a laugh and rose from the bath, reaching for her towel and robe. “For starting to grow up. Now, away with you, Tower rat. Your apprentice is probably worried about what mischief we were getting up to in the bath.”
“My apprentice had better be asleep,” he grumbled, rising from the water.
“Oh, and you were always obedient at age fourteen?”
“…No comment.”
“Majic?”
“Yes, Oshou-sama?”
Orphen hesitated in the doorway of the guest room room, his eyes roving the surroundings until they fell on the moonlit figure standing on the balcony. “What’re you still doing up?”
Majic turned, the moonlight making his hair shine as it drifted across his face, highlighting the aquamarine depths of his eyes. “The sky just looked unusually beautiful tonight, that’s all.”
“Hn.” Moving through the room, Orphen stopped when he was beside his apprentice, lifting his face to peruse the sky that has so captivated the blonde boy.
“I’ve always liked the stars. I remember Kaasan pointing them out to me when I was little, whispering their names into my ear as she held me, rocking me to sleep.”
“You don’t talk of your mother very often.”
Majic shrugged, returning to his stargazing. “I don’t remember her all that much. I was only about four or so when she died. And Otousan doesn’t like to speak of her. I think it still hurts him, her death and all.”
“Some pains never go away.”
“No. But sharing them can ease the burden and make life easier.”
Orphen laughed, tugging on a lock of the blonde’s hair. “I’ve been duly chastised, oh apprentice. I won’t keep things bottled up anymore, all right?”
Turning with a smile, Majic nodded. “I don’t like to see anyone hurting, Oshou-sama.”
“I know.” Orphen turned, returning to the bedroom. He shut the door and made his way across the floor to the bed. Throwing back the covers and sitting on the edge, he stared down at the floor, where Majic had made a pillow out of his pack and the blanket lay folded to the side. “Hey, Majic?”
“Hmmm?”
“You gonna go to sleep any time soon?”
“Yes, I’m coming right now.”
Majic stepped from the balcony, closing the glass doors with a sigh. He padded on silent feet towards the bed, reaching for the blanket. With a squawk, he found his wrist captured in a tight grip, and was bodily yanked onto the bed. “Oshou-sama!”
Orphen laughed at his outraged expression, scooting over so that his back was pressed against the wall. “What? I thought I’d be nice and share the bed. It’s large enough for two people, as long as you don’t hog the blankets.”
“Hey, if anyone in this room can be accused of hogging blankets it’s you, Oshou-sama. I swear, you get those things in a death-grip and trying to get you to let go is harder than getting Cleao-san to go home!”
He straightened his pyjamas, spreading the blanket out over the bed. It would be a bit of a tight fit, but they should both be able to sleep comfortably. It was nice of Orphen to be so thoughtful…
“Majic…”
“Yes?”
“You do know why I asked you to be my apprentice, don’t you?”
The light from the window highlighted Orphen’s face, making his eyes shine and his hair appear star-drenched. Majic hesitantly reached up, fingers touching Orphen’s face, watching the sienna eyes for answers. He closed his eyes when the brunette leaned forward, smiling as Orphen’s lips brushed his brow. “Yes, I know. Thank you, Oshou-sama.”
“For what?” Orphen asked into his hair, surprised.
“For giving me a chance.”
Orphen chuckled, mussing Majic’s hair as the boy settled his head onto the pillow. “In that case, I’m the one who should be saying thank you.”
“What ever for?”
Lips pressed to lips, breath a warm gust of life that promised so many things. “For giving me a chance. Not many would, you know.”
“Someone once told me, Orphen-san, that I was wise beyond my years. I didn’t believe them until I met you.”
No more words were exchanged, the only touch the gentle clasp of hands as they drifted to sleep. But for one night, two souls were comforted by the closeness that had begun to spring up between them, and were content to let it blossom in its own time.
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