Chapter Text
The Witchlight Carnival was magical.
Or at least it was supposed to be.
The carnival spun around them with its chaotic magic, glowing lights and drifting music blending into an otherworldly hum. Vendors and attractions were lined up around every corner, new people to meet, new things to see. They'd spent plenty of time together at the carnival so far, and they still had plenty more to see. They've been to swan rides, dragonfly riding, and won enough spells and plush spiders to last a lifetime.
By now, Frost and Gricko have sauntered off together somewhere for some quote unquote ‘grub,’ as Gricko had oh so eloquently called it, leaving Kremy alone with Gideon.
Now, usually that would be a good thing, and he would jump at the chance to have some one on one time with his pal. Kremy loved spending time with his…friend, though lately things have become a bit rocky between them. Ever since the two of them got ‘married,’ something changed, things weren't quite the same as they used to be, and Kremy didn't like it. It wasn't like he wanted things to be awkward, but they were, and the worst part was that he couldn't even ask Gideon about it because the fool probably wouldn't even know what he was talking about.
To Kremy, it seemed there were other things to Gideon that were just more important, and he'd always known that.
So why did it hurt so much to admit?
The two of them walked side by side for quite a while, perusing the carnival for more things to check out. Gideon was striding down the walkway, radiating his usual casual charm, grinning at anyone who crossed their path.
He was at it again.
“Excuse me, sir? Can a big fella like you tell me where the Ferris wheel is? I'd be oh so grateful,” a gorgeous elven dancer said, brushing a lock of long blonde hair behind her ear as she gave Gideon a dazzling smile.
The way Gideon lit up dropped a stone in Kremy’s stomach. The genasi’s fire became bright, his smile matching, bold and suave. Kremy willed himself to look away but his eyes were glued to the sight before him.
“Oh, yeah, just a-sway back over thata-way and you should see it easy,” he shot her a wink and his best smile, and she giggled. The sound caused Kremy to let out a quiet hiss, gripping his cane, but Gideon didn't seem to notice.
“Thanks for the directions, handsome,” Oh what a prick.
“No problem,” Gideon replied, his grin easy and confident, shooting an easy wink her way. “If you get lost again, I’ll be happy to guide you again. In fact, I'll be happy to guide you anywhere.”
Kremy kept his expression neutral, though his jaw tightened imperceptibly, his swishing tailing giving away his true feelings. The dancer gave a flustered laugh and ran off, leaving Gideon feeling prideful but somehow seemingly oblivious to the way her eyes lingered on him as she went.
“Popular tonight,” Kremy muttered, his voice dry, his grip tightening on his cane so strongly he wondered if it'd break.
“What?” Gideon looked at him, genuinely puzzled, trying to lean down and hear him better.
“Nothing,” Kremy said quickly, turning away. “Let’s keep moving.”
Awkwardly, they wandered toward the Carousel of Dreams, and Kremy tried to ignore the growing knot in his chest. Why did it always happen this way? It was almost like a curse, and not the Faewild kind.
It was a problem, one not quite so easy for Kremy to just ignore. He constantly tries to distract himself when Gideon flirts around, but he's been doing it more and more. In the end, his mind always wandered back to him, that idiot...and his ridiculous flirting. His eyes kept glancing back at Gideon, the fire Genasi oblivious to Kremy’s inner turmoil; he wasn't even looking in his direction!
Kremy felt angry—but also guilty because of it. It wasn’t like Gideon was doing anything inherently wrong. This was just who he was—charming, friendly, and effortlessly magnetic. In fact, that was what had drawn him to Gideon in the first place, wasn't it? Kremy told himself it didn’t matter, but the twisting in his stomach told him otherwise.
Whispers of doubt insidiously circled in his mind and he became noticeably distracted, walking on without noticing Gideon was no longer following. They were approaching the entrance of the carousel when Gideon had got distracted again, this time by a pair of faerie twins, beautiful and exotic.
“So Gid, I was thinking we could look in here and then meet up with—Gid?” Kremy’s head swiveled when he turned and realized he was all alone. Rather easily he was able to find his fiery friend, though he was less than pleased with where he found him.
The two women were all over him, one clinging to his bicep, the other one giggling at something he had said. Though Kremy didn't know why Gideon had left to go chat up some broads, it was beginning to thin Kremy’s patience.
They were laughing.
With Gideon.
Without much thought, and perhaps too much pent up frustration, Kremy turned heel and beelined away from the carousel. It was humiliating to be angry over something so trivial. He was Kremy LeCroux, he could have anybody he wanted! But the fire of his anger was there and every time he looked towards Gideon and his posse, it felt like he was just pouring gas on a fire.
For several moments, he stood in the middle of a clearing, spinning around to scan the area. Rather quickly, his eye caught a buff bard who appeared to be a juggler. In fact, Kremy recognized the fella, someone he’d taken notice of earlier when they’d walked by. It wasn't uncommon for Kremy to size up the performers at the carnival, a habit of his from when he had his own business. He was tall, strong, and very talented at that.
Perfect.
The bard’s bright red skin glowed under the lantern lights, and his movements were sharp and deliberate as he tossed flaming torches into the air. Rather quickly he notices Kremy’s presence and twirls the fire in a way he hadn't before. It was almost like the flames had a mind of their own, swirling and popping and sparking.
“Impressive,” Kremy said, his voice cool but just warm enough to spark intrigue.
The bard caught one of the torches, spinning it in his hand as he grinned, tipping his hat with a wink. “Hey, thanks. Always nice to have a fan.”
“Fan?” Kremy raised an eyebrow, letting a small smirk tug at the corner of his lips, leaning in on his cane, a suave smile coming to him like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. But I can appreciate skill when I see it.”
The bard laughed, a low, smooth sound. “Fair enough. You seem like someone who knows how to keep things interesting. Got a name?”
“Kremy, Kremy LeCroux” he said simply, shaking the bard’s hand, shooting him a wink. The bard chuckled, gripping the lizardfolk’s hand tightly, appearing more interested by the second.
“Well, Kremy, stick around, and I’ll show you a few more tricks. Maybe I’ll even teach you one if you ask nicely.”
“I'm Ryis by the way.”
Satisfied, he leaned in and smiled widely. “Nice to meet you Ryis. I have to say you're being wasted at a place like this.” Kremy was flattering him, drawing him in with that silver tongue of his, creating illusions with merely his words and now he had him exactly where he wanted him.
“You're just saying that.”
“Oh, I don't say that to just anyone, darling, and I'd never lie to someone like you,” it was a complete lie, but the poor bard didn't need to know that.
Kremy chuckled softly in amusement at the flustered expression on Ryis’ face, but his attention wasn’t fully on the conversation anymore. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched and waited until Gideon fixed his gaze toward him. His expression was hard to read from here—something between surprise and curiosity. His eyes were calculating, a clear sign the gears in that head of his were working on something. Gideon’s brow was furrowed, as if he was contemplating something.
Good. Let him wonder.
Kremy stayed by the juggler for a while, his tone measured, his demeanor calm but engaging. To be honest, it was supposed to look better than it sounded anyways, but everything sounded good coming out of Kremy’s mouth. He wasn’t trying to make an actual connection—this wasn’t about the bard at all, more just a show of flattery on Kremy’s part. It was about testing something, something unspoken until now. Where he decides he's drawing a line and waits to see if Gideon noticed when he crossed it.
Would he even care?
Suddenly, in the moment he’d let his mind wander, Kremy felt a familiar warm presence behind him.
“Kremy,” Gideon said, his voice level but firm. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
Kremy turned to find Gideon standing there, his arms crossed and his expression tight and slightly sour. The bard glanced between them, his grin faltering when he noticed the look on Gideon’s face. It was obvious to him at least, what was happening here.
“Looks like you’re needed, Mr. LeCroux. Have a g’day,” Ryis said softly, lowering his head in fear and stepping back until he disappeared into the crowd.
As the juggler disappeared, Kremy folded his arms, frustrated that he’d have to find the juggler bard all over again. “Great, what is it?”
“What are you doing?” Gideon asked too close to Kremy’s snout, his tone laced with something he couldn’t quite place—was it irritation? Concern?
Kremy shrugged, fixing his hat. “Talking to someone. Problem?” he smugly leaned on his cane, smirking.
“Why?”
Kremy sighed. “Why what, Gid?”
Frustrated, Gideon began to flame up but despite the heat, Kremy didn't take a step back. “Why the hell were you…talking to that guy like that? Like you wanted to, well y'know?”
“Unfortunately, Gid, I don't. Mind spelling it out for me?”
Gideon understood exactly what Kremy was doing. He was trying to get a rise out of him, but what he wasn’t sure of was why. Not that it was unheard of for Kremy to mess with him but this felt more personal somehow, though that was only a hunch on Gideon’s part. Whatever he was doing, apparently it was working quite well. Sure, he was known for his temper but why did seeing Kremy with another guy make his blood boil so viciously?
He had glanced over after helping those ladies, and expected to see Kremy waiting there for him, and instead he had vanished. Of course he'd been worried and quickly looked around to find him. When Gideon spotted him, he was chatting up this…this guy, like he wanted to get closer if you catch my drift. The way Kremy was smiling at this guy, how close he seemed to be standing, it didn't sit right with him.
Maybe he was overreacting, but Kremy has never done something like this before. It confused and upset him, he knew that much, and he knew he didn't like it when Kremy seemed as interested as he was.
“Fine! Why were you flirting with that guy?” Gideon finally spat out.
Kremy shrugged, casually checking his nails. “Flirting? Please, that wasn't flirting. But even if it was, you flirt all the time with everything that breathes, what's the problem?”
“That’s different,” Gideon said, suddenly defensive.
“Is it?” Kremy challenged, his sharp eyes meeting Gideon’s, a reptilian hiss daring to leave his throat.
Gideon hesitated, his usual easy confidence faltering. “I don't get it. You’re not... like that. You don’t just flirt with random people.”
“Maybe I do now,” Kremy said, his voice cool but daring. “What? Does it bother you?”
Gideon ran a hand through his fiery hair, trying to damp it down so it doesn't get any bigger. He was starting to look like a campfire, appearing uncharacteristically unsettled. “Wha—no, no why would it bother me?”
“You tell me,” Kremy shot back, his tone sly.
For a moment, Gideon didn’t answer. The tension between them crackled like Gideon’s fire, daring one of them to break it. Finally, Gideon huffed, his fire flaming up drastically in growing anger, shooting several feet in the air before quickly dying down to a sad smolder. He grunted something under his breath before he turned heel and stomped away, leaving Kremy all alone.
And there he stood in the middle of the circus, no juggler, no Gideon. Now nobody was happy.
“Well, shit…” Kremy sighed, taking off his hat momentarily to run a scaled hand over his head. Now he just felt like an asshole.
Seeing Gideon get so upset had been gratifying in the moment but in hindsight, seeing him so hurt and upset wasn’t at all what he had wanted.
So what had he wanted?
For a fleeting moment he felt weakness and was tempted to chase after the Fire Genasi, but decided against it, feeling any conversation they had right now would end in a similar fashion as their last one. In the end he decided to leave him alone, knowing he’d see Gideon again soon anyways.
Hopefully by then, Kremy would figure out what to say to him.