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I.
Tommy knew the risks of traveling to the lake alone. He had heard the stories and myths since his childhood (missing people, I swear they drowned by that stupid monster, the beast in the water.) But that had been decades ago when his own father had been a kid, and the supposed L'manburg Lake monster hadn't been seen since before Tommy had even been born.
Honestly, Tommy doubted he had even existed in the first place. People went missing all the time. They ran away, drowned, or got eaten by bears, or at least that was what Technoblade had told him the last time they went camping together. Tommy hadn't been scared (unless you asked Technoblade, but brothers sucked, and they lied all the time.)
The trek to the lake was long (and even longer and scarier during the slow summer evenings.) The trail had long been overgrown with lack of use, but somehow with the setting sun and a dying flashlight, he pushed his way through the brush until he skidded to a stop on the sandy shores of L'manburg Lake. The lake was quiet and empty. Long abandoned towels, shoes, and burnt-out campfires dotted the area.
It was sad, really, how lonely this place seemed. Abandoned by humans but without any other type of life to occupy it.
The lake itself wasn't anything extraordinary. Tommy had expected something else. Perhaps an evil underwater castle poking out of the lake's surface, some whirlpools, or even some kind of swamp beast running at him with a trident. Instead, the lake's dark surface shimmered in the setting sun, and the waves fizzled under his brand new red converses.
Perhaps the lake monster was running late?
Tommy took a seat at one of the long-abandoned campfire rings. The logs there were weakened and rotten, but Tommy didn't care. (Technoblade, deep into his detective phase, had once told him, "looking for proof means spending time, thought, and will." And Tommy was very determined to find proof.)
He gave up after thirty minutes when Tubbo called to play Minecraft.
II.
The second time Tommy traveled out to the lake, he could immediately tell something was different. The woods surrounding the lake were far more alive than they had been the last time he had walked the path. Perhaps he could chalk that up to something along the lines of it being spring and earlier in the day, but it seemed like the forest hummed with magic.
He heard the music before he saw the musician. It floated through the trees and hummed with the cicadas and bees. It seemed to pulse with the forest around Tommy. He almost decided to turn back, but the music seemed to push him forward towards the lake. Perhaps he was a bit too curious about who had come to L'manburg Lake to play for no audience.
When Tommy stumbled through the brush and onto the sand for the second time that summer, someone else was on the shoreline. Between the waves, in beige slacks rolled up to his knees and a yellow sweater, stood a man holding a violin. His brown hair curled over his face, but Tommy could see that his eyes were closed.
The man didn't move even with the cold waves gently crashing into his legs. He simply swayed to his own music as he played. Tommy couldn't move either, his ratty red converses were stuck firmly in the sand, and he just stared.
"Well, that's new." The man finally opened his eyes. His gaze was trained on Tommy. He lowered his violin and stepped out of the waves.
Tommy shook himself free from whatever trance he had been in and stumbled closer to the shoreline. Everything was different now (the forest was alive, but it wasn't pulsing with the thing that had pulled Tommy to the lake. Its living was more muted.)
"I, uh, didn't think anyone came out here." Tommy blurted out as he neared the man.
"Neither did I." The man hummed in agreement.
"We aren't supposed to, you know?"
"Oh, really?" The man looked curious now.
"Well, everyone says we're not allowed because the lake monster will get you," Tommy answered defensively. "They say that it'll drag you down until you drown, and that's why there are so many people drowned."
The man laughed, amusement clear in his grin. "Well, I've been coming here forever, and there's no monster that has come to drown me."
Tommy studied him (Technoblade did tell him not to believe any strangers unless they had a badge.) The man didn't seem like a monster. He looked completely human, and he had a violin. Monsters couldn't play such beautiful music.
"Okay." Tommy beamed and settled on an old tree stump. "I believe you."
"Do you want me to play you another song, Tommy?" The man lifted his violin to his shoulder as Tommy nodded, and he laughed (something soft and gentle) as he began to play again.
III.
Tommy stopped looking for the L'manburg Lake monster after the tenth visit. Instead, he made his way to the sandy shoreline every day after school and found his stump. He didn't usually have to wait long for Wilbur to appear with his bare feet and yellow sweater (he always emerged from the shoreline nearly out of his eyesight and claimed he lived in a cottage on the other side of the lake.)
Then Wilbur would join him with his violin in hand. Sometimes he would play the whole time. Other times, he wouldn't play at all and instead talked with Tommy or helped him with his homework (because school was hard and Wilbur was smarter.)
It was one of those times, where the violin remained tucked in its case, that Tommy brought up the lake monster again. Tommy sat on his stump, his bright red puffy coat tucked securely around him (it was late October now, and it was supposed to snow that night.) Wilbur sat on the sand next to him, his violin case in his lap as they talked.
"Wilbur, do you believe in the lake monster?"
Wilbur's lips twitched towards a smile. "I think things live in the lake, but I don't think there are any monsters."
"Really? How do you know?"
Wilbur leaned forward, almost as if he had a secret, "because I've been in the lake before."
Tommy gasped. "Wil! You're not supposed to!" He hissed through his teeth, a flash of hurt running through his expression. (Wilbur couldn't do that. If he got dragged away and drowned, Tommy, wouldn't have a reason to come back.)
Wilbur laughed again (it was always gentle and soft) and stood. "It's fine, Tommy. The lake is safe. Come on. I'll show you."
Tommy watched as Wilbur waded into the still water. Tommy followed him to the water's edge and stopped, his arms crossed.
"It's not safe. Technoblade told me so."
Wilbur held out his hand. "Tommy, I promise nothing in here can harm you. I've been swimming in this lake for years. There's just fish and frogs."
Tommy stared at the dark waters hesitantly. "You'll protect me?"
Wilbur smiled, "always."
Tommy followed him into the water. His hand tightly clutched in Wilbur's. The water was feezing and swallowed his arms and legs in darkness. It was nice. The woods hummed something new, something soothing, and Tommy closed his eyes.
He wasn't sure when the water slipped over his head. When he did notice, he struggled for the surface. (Where was Wilbur? Wilbur was supposed to protect him from the lake monster. Was he going to die?) Something held him there below the surface despite Tommy's fight for safety.
With limited time, he turned and stopped when Wilbur was behind him, his smile still warm and welcoming despite the firm grip on Tommy's wrist. Tommy stared, something bubbled in his stomach, and he wanted to puke. (Wilbur was going to kill him, and all that would be left would be his abandoned jacket and shoes.)
Wilbur's free hand settled on Tommy's cheek even as Tommy struggled against him. It was warm (probably the only thing warm in the freezing lake), and the water seemed to hum with something that reminded Tommy of the day he had first met Wilbur.
"Tommy, stop," Wilbur finally spoke. "You're safe. You can breathe. Look."
Tommy didn't want to, but he watched as Wilbur inhaled and exhaled. Finally, Tommy gasped.
And something changed. Something pulsed within him, and the water became clearer and warmer (and somehow, with the water around him, he was alive and breathing and safe.)
"I told you there's nothing to fear," Wilbur said quietly.
Tommy didn't think about the red puffy jacket and ratty red converses he left on the shore.