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“Alexander, something’s wrong.”

Alexander jolted awake more to the sheer panic in Hali’s voice than her actual words. Her hand was on his shoulder as if she meant to shake him awake, and even in the darkness of the rented room, he could see the deep line of worry etched into her brow. Behind her stood Emeraude, tear stains streaking down her face, and Flint, who was leaning on Emeraude and sweating.

What?

Alexander sat up. 

He meant to ask what had happened. The words formed in his mind and would ordinarily slip out just as easily. But he opened his mouth to speak, and to his own panicked shock, was met with absolute silence. 

He tried again, forcing air through his windpipe, an attempt to make any sound at all. It died as it left his mouth. 

He tugged, perhaps a bit too aggressively, on Maxim’s arm. 

Maxim, a mechanite, did not sleep in the traditional way. When he was on his own, he’d rest standing up, with his back against the wall. This had been a point of minor contention, early in their relationship, as their differing preferences in sleeping arrangements became a relevant concern. Alexander would insist that he wanted to sleep next to and cuddle his lover, Maxim would remind him that his lover was made of cold, unyielding metal and refused to believe Alexander when he explained that that was kind of the whole appeal, and the argument frequently died there because Maxim was obnoxiously difficult to reason with. The compromise they eventually came to went thusly: Maxim would sit in the bed next to Alexander, still sleeping upright, but at the very least in arms reach. And he would lend Alexander his hand so that he might hold it as he slept. Maybe it was a bit strange, but it worked for them. 

It also made a convenient way for Alexander to very quickly get Maxim’s attention. 

Maxim had already been on high alert from seeing his companions entering their room, and so came easily into full consciousness. He took in his companions’ varying states of distress and turned to Alexander. 

“What is the matter?”

Again, Alexander’s words refused to make themselves audible, so he gestured, somewhat shakily, towards his mouth and throat, hoping, praying, that Maxim would understand what he meant.

“Alexander cannot speak presently,” Maxim said, after a moment of confused staring.

Alexander smiled, relieved, as Maxim turned to Emeraude. 

“Can you fix this?”

Emeraude burst into tears. 

“Everybody’s broken,” Flint said, when it became clear that Emeraude wasn’t about to answer. “Emeraude’s magic is broken, Hali’s brain is broken, I’m broken.”

Alexander made a gesture to continue just as Maxim said, “Explain.”

“It started when Flint woke up to do his exercises,” Emeraude sniffled. “He woke me and Hali up falling out of the bed. He can’t lift anything… he can barely stand.”

Flint grunted, teeth gritted in frustration and exertion.

“I went to see if I could heal him,” Emeraude continued. “But… it’s all gone.” She flexed her hand as if to demonstrate. “Not even a light cantrip.”

“Hali?” Maxim said.

“I seem to be mostly okay,” Hali said. “But when I try to think about what’s going on, things get… confused.”

The hag. It must be. 

“This will be the hag’s doing, I suspect,” Maxim said, just as Alexander began considering how he might try to gesture that sentiment to the group. Relieved once again that he didn’t have to, he leaned his head against Maxim’s shoulder. 

“The hag? I thought we killed her?” Flint said.

“We did, though Hali warned us that hags often have fail safes to prevent themselves from permanently succumbing to death.”

“I did?” Hali said. 

Maxim paused, surprised. “Yes. You suspected that the chrysalis pods we found scattered around her lair were meant to regenerate her if she were ever defeated, which is why we destroyed them before we confronted her.”

Alexander, Flint and Emeraude all nodded, remembering the day they’d spent scouring the hag’s swamp for those disgusting, mucus-filled pods, but Hali just looked confused. 

“Oh… right. Because… right, you have to, with hags… they come back unless you destroy their… oh no, no that’s liches. Ugh, I can’t remember!” 

“Maybe we missed one?” Emeraude said.

“We checked every inch of that fucking swamp,” Flint said. “We definitely didn’t miss one.”

“She may have had others in other locations, in the event that someone destroyed the ones in the swamp, like we did,” Maxim said. “Or perhaps Hali was wrong and the chrysalises served some other purpose.”

But Hali was sure we’d destroyed all of them, she wouldn’t have let us face down the hag otherwise, Alexander thought. He wanted to say, It’s not like Hali to be wrong about these things. We should trust her judgement and consider that there might be more at work here. The words did not come.

“So she came back and, what, cursed us for killing her?” Flint said. 

“It would seem so,” Maxim said. “The curse appears to be karmic in nature, not meant to kill but rather specifically tailored to debilitate each of you. This is petty revenge.”

Alexander took another moment to thank the Heavens that his lover was so clever, just as the rest of his team took in the new information.

“But it can’t be,” Emeraude said, distraught. “It’s not just my magic, it’s my connection to Bahamut. I can barely feel him. How could a simple hag’s curse do such a thing?”

“I cannot speak to the strength of the curse, but it does make sense. Consider, if your greatest asset is your faith, and the power it provides you, then the simplest way to weaken you would be to sever that connection.”

“I can’t believe that a hag could do that,” Emeraude insisted. “How can we be sure that I haven’t just… angered Bahamut somehow?”

Alexander watched anguish and despair wash across Emeraude’s face and thought to say, you are the most faithful, devoted person I’ve ever met, a fact that I’m certain Bahamut knows better than anyone. It would take something truly unforgivable to make him rescind his support of you so suddenly, and I know for a fact that you have done no such thing. Whether the hag’s curse is responsible for this or not, I guarantee you are not to blame. Instead, he was forced to quietly listen as Maxim made a far less comforting argument.  

“Because it’s not a coincidence that this occurred just as the rest of you are also afflicted. And each in a way that targets your specific strengths, the strengths used to defeat this hag,” Maxim said. He gestured to Hali and Flint, “Your expertise in monster slaying, Hali, and Flint…”

“My actual, literal strength,” Flint grumbled. “Hey, wait! So I can’t even move on my own but Alexander just loses his voice? That doesn’t seem fair!”

“It is my understanding that hags rarely deal in fairness,” Maxim said. “Though in this instance I’d argue that this curse has debilitated Alexander more than any of you.”

Before Alexander could parse whatever Maxim meant by that, Hali interjected. 

“What about you Maxim? You keep talking about us,” she gestured to the four of them, “but weren’t you cursed too?”

“Ah,” Maxim said awkwardly. “No. I appear to be unaffected.”

“Try casting a spell,” Emeraude said. “Just to check.”

Maxim nodded before conjuring his mage hand, not showing even a sliver of difficulty. 

“There doesn’t appear to be any change in my connection to Mechanus,” he explained. “My magic feels as it normally does, and I can sense no other imbalance.”

“How?” Flint said. They all turned to Hali. 

Hali made a face as she thought for a minute, before she groaned and clutched her head. “I don’t know!” she cried. “It’s all scrambled up!” 

Alexander reached out to pat her on the shoulder. The best he could do for the moment. 

“When we were dealing with that rogue druid in Gulthmere, Hali mentioned that a lot of curses, especially the powerful ones, need body parts as components, like blood or hair. So maybe the curse can’t affect Maxim because he’s a mechanite? Like, maybe there’s nothing for the curse to latch onto because he doesn’t have the same kind of body as the rest of us?” Emeraude said. 

“It’s… a possibility,” Maxim said.

“Well that’s bullshit,” Flint said. 

Alexander shot Flint a stern glare. He wanted to say, Let’s be glad one of us is unscathed. We’d be a lot worse off if he were affected too. 

“It seems odd that the hag wouldn’t have realized that though,” Maxim continued thoughtfully. “If she meant to curse all of us, she should have known better than to choose something that wouldn’t affect me.”

“Maybe she just didn’t think you were enough of a threat to warrant cursing,” Flint said. 

“Could there be any other component of the curse that wouldn’t apply to you?” Emeraude asked. “Something the hag wouldn’t have known?” 

Maxim jolted suddenly beside him. “Names,” he whispered. 

“What?” Hali said.

“Of course. When we first met the hag she was disguised. And we told her our names, your names. Naturally, a curse that targets each individual uniquely would require their true name as a component.”

Flint groaned. “So what you’re telling me is that your whole pseudonym true name thing actually came in handy for once?”

“It would seem so, yes.” 

“Ugh. You’re not allowed to be annoying about this.”

“When have I ever?”

“Or smug!”

“Guys, please,” Emeraude said. “We have better things to do.”

“She’s right,” Hali said. “What do we do now?”

They all looked to Alexander. He opened his mouth, closed it in frustration, opened it again, then turned to tap Maxim’s arm and gestured as if he were writing with a pen and paper. 

Maxim’s eyes brightened. “I ought to have thought of it sooner,” he said, as he moved to rummage through his bag for the desired implements. 

He handed off the tools to Alexander, but as soon Alexander put pen to paper it became immediately clear that this would not work either. The letters would not come, no matter how hard he tried. He could read just fine, but as soon as he tried to copy the words the letters blurred and twisted in his mind. After a minute or two of struggling, he handed the paper and pen back to Maxim and shook his head. 

“I feared this may be the case,” Maxim said. 

“So what do we do?” Hali said. 

“We have to find a way for Alexander to communicate with us, somehow,” Emeraude said. 

What followed was a very long, very fraught game of charades that ended with the group agreeing that, somehow, they had to confront the hag again and either kill her, or make her lift the curse.

“But how?” Hali said. “Flint can’t even lift his own head, let alone his axe. And without spells Emeraude is almost as useless.”

“Hey, you’re not much better off yourself,” Flint said. “Don’t know how you expect to be any good with a bow and arrow if you don’t even know what you’re shooting at.”

Hali, being a dwarf, was the exact height needed to elbow Flint in the groin, which she did. Flint, who could barely support his own weight as is, promptly crumpled to the ground. 

“It is unlikely, given your weakened states, that killing her will even be possible,” Maxim said, ignoring Flint’s pained whimpers, “But perhaps I can use the fact that her curse did not affect me as a bargaining chip. She evidently wanted to punish us for thwarting her. I doubt she’d be happy to learn that one of us got away.”

“That sounds like a good way to just also get yourself cursed,” Emeraude said.

“Not if he’s clever about it,” Hali said. “Dealmakers like her… hm. There’s something… something about dealmakers. Hags… or am I thinking devils?”

“Hags and devils alike tend to follow their own rules,” Maxim said. “It’s possible, though difficult, to outsmart them.” 

“Won’t we need a better bargaining chip than Maxim dodging the curse? That’s hardly any leverage at all,” Emeraude said. 

“We don’t really have anything else,” Hali said.

“Not until we know what else she might want,” Maxim said. “Which, whatever it may be, won’t be pleasant for us. And I believe it may be in our best interest if I go alone.”

What. 

“What?!” Hali said.

“Absolutely not,” Emeraude said. 

Alexander nodded vigorously. Thank you, Emeraude. 

“Think about this logically. If she becomes hostile, I can always flee,” Maxim flicked his wrist, a pulse of magic emanating from it. “But with you all so weakened by the curse…”

Hali glanced down at Flint, still cringing helplessly on the floor. “... it’d be too easy for her to take us hostage.”

“Then we’d really be on the back foot,” Emeraude mused. 

“We cannot afford to give her any more leverage against us that she already has,” Maxim said. “It is for the best that you all stay behind.”

The very thought of it left Alexander feeling sick to his stomach. It’s true that it would be dangerous for the others, but I just can’t speak. If it comes to a fight, I could still…

“So, what, you go to meet her alone,  with no idea what to expect, all while the rest of us can’t even back you up? Forgive me if I’m not exactly in love with this plan,” Emeraude said. 

“It may be our only option,” Maxim said. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Flint interrupted. “We’re not actually considering sending mister blank-face emotionless robot to go talk our way out of a hag’s curse, are we? Have we forgotten that he’s a terrible negotiator?”

“Of course, I’m sure you’d rather rush in, weapons drawn,” Maxim said. “Unfortunately for you, I suspect an attempt at such would result in you falling on your face.”

“You—!” 

Oh gods, Alexander thought, reaching up to rub calming circles into Maxim’s back. If these two start fighting while I can’t deescalate I SWEAR— 

“Flint,” Hali interrupted, “you’re literally sitting on the ground clutching your balls. Maybe try and recover some of your dignity before you go and lose it again.”

Flint glared at her. 

“Let’s just all be calm about this, alright?” Emeraude tried, godsend that she was. “Flint, I don’t like this plan either, but we don’t have any other ideas. And if Maxim thinks he can do this, we should trust him.”

Flint grumbled but eventually conceded, to Alexander and Emeraude’s mutual relief. 

“I’m hardly eager to do this either,” Maxim said. “But we need to lift this curse somehow and hags’ curses are notorious for being difficult, magically speaking. We have to convince her to lift it and I’m the only one of us who won’t be walking into that interaction at an obvious disadvantage.”

“Okay,” Emeraude said. Hali nodded, and with a pointed look from the rest of them, Flint did too. 

Maxim turned to Alexander. 

Alexander thought for a long moment, considering how best to communicate what he wanted to, before deciding that the simpler the better and he stood to pick up his armor. 

He carried the pieces of his gear back over to Maxim, who stared at him silently for a moment before saying thickly, “Oh. I see.”

Alexander held out his arm so that Maxim could begin fitting and tightening the straps of his bracers. He didn’t need Maxim’s help putting his armor on, but it was easily one of his favourite parts of their little routine, and it went faster with two people besides. 

“Yes, I suppose the curse has affected your combat skill least of all,” Maxim continued, “and… I would be grateful, to not have to go alone.”

Maxim hid it well for the others, but Alexander liked to think he knew Maxim as well as he knew himself. The small note of relief in his voice was for Alexander’s ears alone. 

Alexander turned to the others with an easy, confident smile on his face. They all nodded in acceptance. 

“So that’s settled, then,” Hali said. “Maxim and Alexander go confront the hag. Maxim to negotiate, and Alexander to make sure Maxim doesn’t die.”

“I will do as well as I can,” Maxim swore. 

As will I.  

***

It had scarcely been two days since they’d defeated the hag in her lair, and yet the swamp within which she had dwelled had already become less repugnant. The flies and mosquitos made up average swarms, rather than oppressive black clouds. The water was acrid, but not putrid. The trees only looked slightly dead, as opposed to utterly desiccated. 

Alexander and Maxim trudged doggedly onward in silence, a twinge of discomfort lingering in the air. Alexander knew full well that Maxim was more than capable of filling silences with endless rambles about whatever topic had most recently captured his attention, and Alexander usually delighted in listening to him. But whether it was due to Alexander’s inability to respond or simply nervousness regarding the task at hand, Maxim said nothing as they made their approach. 

Ordinarily, Alexander would find a way to prompt a conversation. If not for his own entertainment then to give Maxim’s mind something to focus on that wasn’t the harrowing encounter at hand. Hampered as he was by the curse, however, Alexander could merely shoot Maxim reassuring glances from time to time and hope his friend understood his meaning. 

They approached the hag’s lair slowly but surely, until eventually, the decrepit old hut came once more into their view. 

Unlike the rest of the swamp, which was slowly beginning to heal from the hag’s corruption, the hut was in the exact state they’d left it. The hag’s home had already been hideous, as was her wont, made of rotting wood planks and a sagging thatched roof. But now the lair also bore the scars of battle: indentations and scrapes from Flint and Alexander’s weapons, scorch marks left by Emeraude and Maxim’s spells, and arrow shafts, too damaged to recover, lodged in the wooden panels after being fired from Hali’s bow. As they took in the details of their previous conflict here, Maxim came to a stop. 

Alexander turned to him, a rallying speech already on the tip of his tongue before he remembered he couldn’t give it. So he stood silently, waiting for Maxim to make a move. A moment passed as they both stood still before it occurred to Alexander that Maxim was waiting for him. He was expecting Alexander to take the lead, to march in with utmost confidence while Maxim fell easily into step behind him. Alexander glanced back over at the hag’s hut, words he couldn’t say clogging his throat, and shook his head. Not this time.  

Maxim, expressionless as he was, seemed taken aback. He faltered. “I suppose this is what I promised to do,” he said slowly. 

Alexander gave him a reassuring smile.

Maxim didn’t budge. “What Flint said…” he started hesitantly. “Do you think I’m an effective negotiator?” 

Gods, no. You’re far too stubborn. 

Alexander’s smile morphed into something embarrassingly fond at the thought. Maxim gave a confused noise at the bizarre response and Alexander almost laughed. He reached up to pull Maxim into a firm hug. It was mildly awkward, as it usually was given how much shorter Alexander was in comparison to Maxim’s impressive height, but Maxim was endlessly accommodating and went easily into it, even as he continued to make confused little grunts. 

“Is that… do you think I can manage it then?” Maxim said. 

Alexander pulled back. He would have liked to say, there isn’t a doubt in my mind, but the resolute nod he gave seemed to get his message across well enough. 

Maxim nodded in return and staunchly squared his shoulders, before at last turning to the hag’s hut. A few firm steps later and his hand was pressed against the ramshackle door, pushing in. 

In hindsight, they really should have anticipated the trap. 

The door had been trapped the first time they came. Hali had disarmed it for them. And while killing the monster that had set the traps usually meant you didn’t need to worry about them anymore, given that the entire conceit of their presence here hinged on the hag having survived, it was rather foolish of them to have assumed the trap hadn’t been reset. But neither Alexander nor Maxim held the position of being the observant one in their group, and the main thought that came to Alexander’s mind as he narrowly dodged the grasp of tangling vines only for the sting of poisoned gas to assault his nose was, I really wish Hali were here. 

Alexander felt the protective aura he always carried around him pulsate, rebuffing the poison just long enough for him to cover his mouth and nose with cloth. Maxim was thankfully unaffected by the poison, but he’d failed to dodge the entangling vines, so Alexander rushed to cut him free. A shriek of laughter echoed from further within the hut. 

“Good,” the cackling voice called, brimming with malice. “I worried you might be too easy to deal with, and then we wouldn’t be able to have a chat.”

Maxim glanced at Alexander once, before trepidatiously continuing further into the hag’s lair. 

Alexander blinked upon entering the next room, trying to force his eyes to adjust to the strange lighting.  The chamber was dark, filled with unnatural shadows that cast themselves dramatically across the walls and floor. The only real light source in the room were the candles stuck in odd places that burned a faint, sickly green. Despite this, the shadows around the room moved and shifted, as though the room was spinning around the dull flames. Alexander grew slightly dizzy at the sight. Added onto the wooziness he already felt from the poison earlier, and Alexander had to brace himself against the doorframe to keep his earlier breakfast from coming back up. A decision he almost immediately regretted, as his hand came away coated in a sticky black syrup. He tried in vain to brush it off on his pant leg as he took in what he could of the rest of the room. 

A knotted wood table sat in the center. On the side facing Alexander and Maxim were five chairs. Sitting on the opposite end was a hag. 

It was not the hag they had fought two days prior. 

This hag had a similarly ugly face, but she was possessed of a taller, narrower frame. Her hair was not so greasy, either. Rather, it was long, braided with bones that were definitely humanoid in origin, despite being far too small to belong to any adult— even of gnomish or halfling descent. Alexander resisted the urge to draw his sword. 

The hag’s gaze sharpened as they entered. “Only two? Pity.” She waved a long-fingered hand and three of the chairs sailed away into the darkness. “Come sit, why don’t you?”

“You are not the original inhabitant of this place,” Maxim said, stepping forward but making no motion to sit down. 

The hag smiled, her needle-like teeth twisting into a sharp grin. “No, I’m not. But what kind of sibling would I be if I didn’t help myself to my sister’s belongings every now and then?”  She gestured once again to the chairs in front of her. “Please, have a seat.”

“I’m afraid we’ll have to decline,” Maxim said stiffly. 

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” the hag said. “I only wish to speak with you.” 

“Conversation can be had standing,” Maxim countered.

“We really must insist!” The voice came not from the hag in front them, but from directly behind them. Alexander felt cold iron nails dig into his neck as a large hand pushed him down into the seat at the table. He twisted around, hand already on his sword just as Maxim— now in the seat beside him— did the same, hands thrumming with arcane energy. 

It was a different hag. Not the one they’d fought nor the one sat in front of them. This one was larger than either of the other two, with trunk-like arms that went past her bent knees and ended in big, meaty hands whose knuckles scraped against the floor. Her lower jaw jut out at an uncomfortable angle from the rest of her head, making her mouth hang wide open as she leered down at them.  

“Ah, please forgive my sister,” the first hag said. “She loves to give a hospitable welcome, and she just can’t stand rude guests.”

“I see,” Maxim said icily. 

“Oh, but where are our manners?!” the hag cried. “We haven’t introduced ourselves yet! You know, it’s very rude not to introduce yourself properly when you first meet someone,” she hissed through her teeth at Maxim. 

Maxim gave no indication of a response.

The hag seemed unphased. “You dears can call me Susan, this here is Sally, and as I understand it you are already well acquainted with our dearly departed sister, Sarah.” 

“I suppose we are,” Maxim said. “What brings the two of you to this place?”

“Wall, as I’m sure you know, our dear sister was brutally murdered here quite recently. As her family, it is our responsibility to tidy up her affairs.”

“Punish the culprits,” Sally snarled. 

“Yes, yes,” Susan said. “But that’s getting ahead of ourselves a bit. You see, a hag on her own is no small foe. To intentionally make an enemy of one, you'd have to be particularly… ill-advised.”

“Arrogant,” Sally scoffed. “Foolish.”

“Indeed. So it strikes me that, if incurring the wrath of one hag is all those things, incurring the wrath of a coven should be all of those things, well, threefold.” Susan’s laughter shrieked uncomfortably loudly in the unnatural silence of the hut. 

Maxim stayed quiet even as she cackled on and on, but Alexander didn’t think it was out of fear. There was a tension in his shoulders that was probably in part nerves, yes, but there was also an intention to how he sat, a sense of resolve and purpose. 

She’s giving us a lot of information in exchange for very little. The more she tells us without being prompted, the more we have to work with when we— he— starts bargaining. 

Finally, Susan’s piercing laughter came to an end. “So the matter presents itself to us, her sisters. How do we respond to such a grievous slight?”

“Retribution is owed,” Sally said as Susan hummed in gleeful agreement. 

“Understandable,” Maxim said when it became clear Susan was waiting for him to respond. That appeared to be enough, however, as she promptly continued. 

“Ah, but of course, the balancing of scales is something that comes quite naturally to you Mechanus types, isn’t it? Fair transactions, an eye for an eye, that sort of thing?”

“Yes,” Maxim gritted out. “You have an impressive knowledge of myself given we’ve only just met. Are you a diviner of some kind?”

Alexander narrowed his eyes in worried anticipation. Is she cocky enough to take that bait?

Susan gave another peal of laughter. “Oh, no, nothing as fancy as that!”

“Sarah was a rigorous note-taker,” Sally said. “She liked to cook up special schemes to torment those hero-types she preferred to hunt.”

“She always said there was something especially mouthwatering about the misery of a vainglorious adventuring wannabe brought low by stripping them of the very thing that had brought them their unearned confidence to begin with.”

“Hit them where it hurts, then just keep pressing t’il they pop.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever understood it,” Susan said. “Misery is misery is misery, is it not? But I’ve never claimed to have a refined palette, and Sarah was very good at what she did. You have her to thank for that little curse, in fact! I had to put the spell together of course, but it was really no trouble given that she’d already assembled the key components.”

“So you get revenge for your sister with her own methods,” Maxim surmised. “Poetic.”

“Revenge?” Sally gave a scornful laugh, much rougher than her sister’s high-pitched shrieks.

“My dear, the curse is only the warm up game,” Susan said, her grin somehow growing even wider. 

Maxim hummed in consideration. “I did wonder… the curse seemed like such an elaborate setup. Would it not have been easier to simply kill us and be done with it?” 

Where is this going, Maxim?

“Of course not!” Susan cried. “Dead is dead and useless to us.”

Sally leaned forward, teeth scraping against Alexander’s ear as she whispered, “Dead can’t suffer.”

 “Quite right,” Susan said, nodding. “You goody-good types tend to get shot straight to the upper planes. That’s hardly a punishment at all! And so, what, we lose our sister and gain nothing in return? What a terribly unfair outcome! No, you’re of far more use to us alive.”

“I see. Your plan was to extort us, then. Sell us freedom from the curse in exchange for some other, harsher fate that we would inevitably trade for something even worse, and laugh amongst yourselves as we grew more and more desperate to be free of your schemes.”

The way Maxim said it was casual enough, but Alexander caught his deliberate use of past tense, and if the irritated twitch of her eye was anything to go by, so did Susan. 

Maxim glanced over at Alexander, eyes lit with determination. Alexander knew that look, that posture, the indicators that Maxim had an idea. Alexander gave him a subtle but reassuring nod, and tried not to flinch as a cold droplet of slimy hag drool hit his collarbone and slid under his shirt. 

“A clever plan, I must admit… had it worked.” 

Susan’s smile stayed firmly in place, even as her clawed fingers carved gouges into the wood of the table. 

“But things haven’t gone as you expected,” Maxim continued, the smug undertone in his voice music to Alexander’s ears. “The curse has failed to incapacitate us all as you planned.”

“An unfortunate snag, this is true,” Susan said, “but it changes very little, ultimately. You have come to bargain, after all. You still seek to free your companions.”

“Indeed I do,” Maxim said. “But given that I know you to be the source of the curse, I fail to see why I should not simply kill you here and now and be done with it.”

“You alone? What a lark! You don’t frighten me, mechanite.”

“I suspect that I do,” Maxim said darkly. 

Susan rose from her chair, towering at a surely exaggerated height as her shadow cast itself over Maxim. 

“Resorting to cheap intimidation tactics already? I must really have you rattled,” Maxim said.

Susan snarled. “Don’t tempt me, little construct. I could turn your wires inside out with a snap of my fingers.”

“Why haven't you, then?”

For the first time since they’d arrived, Susan hesitated. Maxim didn’t waste the opportunity. 

“The truth, Susan, is that you haven’t a clue how myself and my companions killed your sister in the first place, nor were you expecting your curse to fail. You are afraid of what we might be capable of.” 

Susan fixed a firm glower on Maxim, but slowly returned to sitting. Somewhere in there, Alexander’s mouth had gone completely dry and he had to consciously remind himself of the very real danger he and Maxim were in. 

Note to self: get Maxim to cockily threaten our enemies more often.

“You all but said so yourself,” Maxim continued. “You admitted that you don’t see the appeal of your sister’s methods, and yet you used them to curse us all the same. Why? Not out of sentimentality, surely, for that is not in your nature. Rather, it presented you an opportunity, as you so helpfully explained, to garner some use from us while ensuring that we could do you no harm.”

Susan bared her teeth, but Maxim wasn’t done.

“But this plan failed. I am unaffected by your curse, and so long as that is true, you are not safe from us who so easily disposed of your stronger, smarter sister. We have already surprised you twice. Do you believe we will not do so a third time?”

“What you say may hold some merit,” Susan hissed, “but I would turn your own question against you, mechanite. If you are so sure that you could kill me, why haven’t you done so already?”

“The curse, naturally,” Maxim said. “It is likely that simply killing you would free my companions. But hag’s curses are notoriously difficult to remove, and I would rather not needlessly slaughter the only person who knows for certain how to do so. If you refuse to lift the curse, however, I may decide such bloodshed is necessary regardless.”

Alexander knew Maxim was bluffing, but the surety in his voice sounded so natural that a part of Alexander couldn’t help but be drawn in by it. Because confidence suits him, even when he’s faking it. 

“So,” Maxim said with finality, “given that we both want something from the other with no simple way to get it, why don’t we strike a bargain?”

Susan fixed her wide grin back in place, though she didn’t quite manage to rid herself of her enraged snarl, and leaned forward. “An intriguing offer. Very well, then.”

It was at that moment that Sally, still breathing heavily in Alexander’s ear, cleared her throat. Susan glanced, for the first time in a while, in their direction. Her eyes landed on Alexander before flicking back to Maxim. 

“If you think it’s for the best,” Susan said to Sally, shrugging. 

That was all the warning Alexander got before a massive hand grabbed him by the face and yanked him backwards into darkness. 

Sally’s throaty laughter echoed from all around him, the only sound he could hear as he tumbled aimlessly through inky blackness. 

On instinct he tried to call out Maxim’s name. What hit his tongue instead was a molten burning that had him doubling over in pain even as he landed, splashing in shallow liquid as black as the rest of the world around him. 

“Ouch,” Sally mocked. “Should have warned you. Our curses grow stronger in our domain.”

It’s a damn good thing we didn’t bring the others, then. 

“It’s cute of you to call out for him, though,” Sally continued. “Sarah’s notes indicated that you two have a… special bond.”

Alexander glanced up as the hot coals that had become his mouth slowly began to fizzle out and he realized that even in a realm without light, he could still somehow see her, looming menacingly over him. 

“The truth is that this isn’t really about you. Understand, I saw the way the construct looks to you for direction. We can’t have that if Susan is to get what she wants out of him. And of course, he can have you back as soon as the deal is struck. If it is struck. With any luck, he’ll fluster and flounder without you.”

He won’t. 

“But, in the meantime, I think there’s plenty of fun we can have together.”

Alexander preemptively reached for his sword. 

“Hah. Don’t bother,” Sally said.

She grabbed Alexander by the front of his breastplate and pushed him into a seated position. Alexander winced as she leaned into his space, scrunching his nose as the rank smell of her breath assaulted his senses. She smirked. 

“I’ve always been a fan of good old fashioned payback,” she said. “So I have to ask, how’s the curse been treating you?”

Alexander tried to shift backwards but her clawed grip on him was firm. Sally hummed and nodded like he’d given an answer. 

“We don’t give enough credit to Sarah’s genius, truly. I mean, what an ingenious idea, to take a man who binds his friends together with his words, and just… take away his words! So simple, so effective!”

Alexander couldn’t quite help the skeptical look that twisted his face. 

“Don’t believe me, do you? Shame. Don’t you know they’d fall apart without you?”

They wouldn’t. Their bonds with each other are too strong for that. 

“But it’s a funny thing isn’t it? Because it isn’t strength or strategy they need you for. How flimsy must a group be, that the only thing keeping them together is one man’s ability to convincingly make promises he has no way to keep?” 

Sally reached up with a long finger and scratched an iron nail down the faded old scar on Alexander’s lip. 

“What do you think happens, then, when they figure out you’re all bark and no bite?”

A blink, and Alexander was somewhere else. 

A darkened forest canopy, the trees twisting and towering overhead. Thick underbrush, disturbed only by his own trudging passage. Involuntarily, Alexander’s heartbeat quickened. 

“Oh, just look at you!” Sally cooed, looming from around one of the thick tree trunks, much, much larger than she had been a moment ago. 

Alexander didn’t need to look down at himself to figure out why. He knew as soon as he realized where he was. It didn’t matter how far he had travelled, how long it had been. When he was in these woods he was a boy of scarcely ten years, hefting a sword that was far too big for him as his tears traced clean lines through the dirt caked on his face. 

Sally laughed and laughed. 

“Maybe I forgot to mention, I’ll admit Susan’s more of a talker than I, but I’ve got a preference for old suffering. Good misery ages like a fine wine, and there’s nothing quite like digging up painful memories for a good bit of torment.”

Alexander closed his eyes, trying to force his breathing to steady. Just as he did, Sally lunged forward, grabbing his small body in one hand and lifting him up close to her.

“So let’s find out this memory’s flavour profile, yes?”

Alexander squirmed helplessly in her grasp as her wide jaw unhinged and a long, wet, granulated tongue curled out from her mouth and lapped the tears from his face. 

She dropped him to the ground as she sighed in ecstasy. “Ah… delicious. Guilt is such a complex flavour. So rich and deep…”

Alexander forced himself onto his feet and stumbled a few steps back. 

Sally licked her lips one last time before snapping her gaze back to him. “So, tell me Alexander, how many people died waiting for you to be the hero they knew you were supposed to be?”

Alexander stood still and closed his eyes again. He could hear Sally moving, her claws raking across the cracking bark of the trees. A part of his mind filled the scene with other claws. Shorter. Darker. Attached to a scaly green arm that continued to scratch and claw even after Alexander had severed it from its body. The tearing of bark could just as easily be the tearing of a wooden door, the tearing of furniture, tearing of flesh. Screaming, ripping, bones snapping. Crying. Aching muscles from hours of walking. Itching. Scratching, splitting, pain. Blood spurting. In his mouth, his teeth. Heavy sword. Sword in the dirt, in flesh. Screaming, crying, bleeding. Stop.

Alexander sucked in a breath. 

You’re not that helpless little boy anymore, he told himself. You’ve felled greater foes, demons and monsters and aberrations from the darkest corners of the planescape. You have nothing to fear from a single troll. 

It was admittedly a rather cold comfort, when the sword in his hands was about as tall as he was. Sally tore a piece of bark from a tree as she continued to slowly circle him and his breath hitched at the sound. He refocused on calming himself down. He needed something else. 

None of this is real. You’re in a shadow dimension in a hag’s hut, not in those woods. You’re not ten years old. 

Sally’s lumbering gait prowled closer to him, her breathing growing louder as she closed in. Alexander clenched his jaw. 

You’re in a shadow dimension in a hag’s hut, and Maxim is out there bargaining for your freedom from a curse right now. He’s going to get you out of this. You know he will. 

Sally breathed hot against the back of his neck, spittle flying out with the force of her exhalations. Alexander released as much tension as he could from his body. 

Maxim can do this. I just have to wait.

“Bah!” Sally spat. Alexander’s eyes snapped open as she slapped him back into the dark void they’d been in before. “This is why you oathkeeper types are no fun! That damn iron will makes you so hard to properly torment.”

Alexander gave a small smirk. 

“I’ll never understand what Sarah found so special about you people,” Sally said. She paused for a moment, thinking. “Though, her notes might be worth consulting, just to see what particular torment she had planned for you.”

Sally pulled from the darkness a thick, tattered tome that she quickly flipped through. “Alexander… Alexander… aha! There you are.”

She held the book out in front of her and cleared her throat as she began to read. 

“When dealing with a selfless hero like Alexander, I cannot forget that no amount of suffering to his person will ever properly break his spirit, as he will always find some reserve of grit to push through. He houses a special kind of madness that makes his own suffering matter to him very little and the suffering of others matter very much. He is an absurd, irrational creature, but it is in his eccentricities that we find the key to his misery. Show him someone he cannot save, especially someone he loves, and he will snap little a brittle twig. This makes tormenting him rather simple, as I need not even devise anything unique for him. All I need do is incapacitate him, perhaps peel off his eyelids so he cannot avert his gaze, then tear his friends apart in front of him.”

Sally howled with laughter as she shut the book. 

“Never let it be said that Sarah didn’t know her stuff. What a cruel mind.” Sally tapped the book’s cover as she thought for a moment. “A shame you did not bring the rest of your little band with you, or I could have given you a real show. Unfortunately, the only friend of yours within my reach is negotiating with my sister… that’s a hell of its own to be quite frank.”

Alexander tensed. Don’t you fucking touch him. 

“But I suppose that’s why it’d be fun to make you watch,” she continued. “See how you like watching him squirm.”

She meant it as a threat, no doubt about it, but Alexander couldn’t help but feel a twinge of relief that he might be able to see how Maxim was doing. He glared at her extra hard just to make sure she thought he was upset by the idea. 

She grinned. “Come on then, let’s see how badly your pet machine has fumbled without you holding his hand.” 

She grabbed a handful of Alexander’s hair and yanked, pulling him through the shadows until they could see into the room he and Maxim had been in before. Now, he was watching from beyond, cloaked in darkness and unseen to those in the room. 

Maxim and Susan were still sitting, as they had been before Alexander was dragged away. Not much seemed to have changed in their positioning, though Susan had leaned further forward and, though it was subtle, Alexander could see the line of tension in Maxim’s shoulders as he sat perfectly still. The urge to reach out for him was resisted as the clawed grip in Alexander’s hair tightened. Still, there was no mistaking the relief that flooded through him upon seeing Maxim unharmed. 

“It’s not a very interesting proposal,” Susan was saying. “No fun at all.”

“Perhaps not,” Maxim said, “but I find efficacy to be of more value in these matters than entertainment.”

“How very… lawful of you,” Susan said disdainfully.

“Yes, well, provided the details are successfully hammered out, would you be amenable to this agreement?” Maxim all but snapped. 

Susan grinned. “Impatient, are we? No need for that. It’s like I promised you: nothing my sister does to him will be irreversible.”

“Will you get on with it?”

“Oh fine. Yes, I suppose it’s a reasonable offer. In theory. However, if I release the curse on your companions, you will have no further incentive to hold up your end of the bargain. What stops you then, from turning around and attacking once the curse is lifted?”

“A reasonable concern. I have a similar one of my own. What stops you from merely cursing us again, once we’ve promised to leave you alone?”

“So we’d return to our current stalemate? In case you haven’t noticed, mechanite, the fact that I’m even entertaining this bargain of yours is because I find it quite uncomfortable.”

“I see.”

“You, however, have every reason to betray this bargain the moment it suits you,” Susan said. “I am not enough of a fool to trust the word of a measly mortal.”

“Then don’t,” Maxim said. “I happen to come preloaded with a solution. You may not be able to trust my word, however if we both swore upon Mechanus—”

“Eugh.”

“—I would be bound magically to uphold my end of the bargain, and to ensure anyone upon whose behalf I made the deal did the same. Conversely, should you break our contract, I, as a champion of law, would have the jurisdiction to bring the power of Mechanus down upon you. In fact, if either of us broke the contract, it would not end well for us. These matters are taken very seriously in the realm of law. Would this be enough to satisfy your need for security?”

Susan narrowed her eyes. “It’s an insult to the artistry of hag bargains to force me to abide by the customs of the lawful worlds. I will not debase myself to act like… some sort of devil.”

“Then I suppose you’ll have no guarantee of your safety.”

“Fine,” Susan growled. “But I won’t put it in writing. That’s too far.”

“Very well.”

“And I want one more thing.”

Alexander watched helplessly as the tension that had just been easing out of Maxim’s shoulders snapped abruptly back into place. 

“And that would be…?”

Susan’s needle smile shone in the darkness like the glow of an anglerfish. “No more stalemate. I will not curse your companions again so long as no further harm comes to me or my sister. But if it does, well, I would like to be allowed, within the terms of our contract, to reapply the curse.”

Maxim nodded. “Understandable.”

“I would like to be able to reapply the curse to all of you.”

Alexander froze. To any other observer, it would appear that Maxim had as well. But Alexander could see the almost imperceptible shake of Maxim’s shoulders and had to fight off the overwhelming urge to rush forward and hold him. He hadn’t even realized he was trying to speak until the searing burn hit his tongue once more, whiting out his vision for a moment as he crumpled to his knees. 

Sally clicked her tongue in amusement. “Come now. It can’t be that easy.”

Alexander ignored her, focused entirely the situation playing out in front of him. 

“Understandable,” Maxim said, far too calmly. 

“It’s just a bit more insurance,” Susan said. “I’m sure, champion of law, that you won’t give me any reason to use it.”

“Indeed.”

“So glad we could agree.”

Alexander managed to stagger back to his feet as Maxim nodded. 

“Shall I lay out the terms of our verbal contract, as it is to be understood by Mechanus? This will be your chance to offer any final corrections.”

Susan waved her hand for him to continue.

“To begin with your part, you, Susan, will remove the curse you have afflicted upon my companions, Alexander, Emeraude, Hali, and Flint. You and your sister, Sally, will not cause any further direct harm to myself, my companions, or any of our loved ones.”

“No vengeful harm,” Susan interrupted. “If I come across someone who happens to be a cousin, I won’t be breaking our agreement if I cause them some grief. Only if I do it intentionally to harm you.”

“That is acceptable,” Maxim said, before repeating back what he’d said now including Susan’s addition. Then he continued.

“In exchange, myself and my companions will cause no further direct harm to you, Susan, or your sister, Sally. Should any of us break this promise, it will be within your right to inflict the same curse on us again.” He paused. 

“And?” Susan said hungrily.

“And I… I will give you a true name that you may use to complete the curse on five people as you originally intended. You will not allow any being outside of yourself to come to know this name through you.”

“Now, now,” Susan said. “I will not share your name with any being outside of myself. I won’t have you bringing the armies of Mechanus to my doorstep just because some nosy bugger cast detect thoughts on me.”

Maxim’s voice was ice cold when he grit out the word, “Fine.”

They both stared at each other for a long moment, neither breaking eye contact. 

“Are these terms acceptable, as I have outlined them?” Maxim finally said. 

“The language is a bit technical for my liking, but yes,” Susan said. 

Then Maxim began to repeat the terms of the bargain, but this time, his voice echoed with the force of the realm of law behind it. Even obscured in the strange realm of shadow, Alexander could feel Maxim’s power shiver through him. Tending towards lawfulness himself, it felt to him like the comfortable, stable support of an old friend, but the disgruntled shudder that ran through Sally made it clear that this sensation was not universal. Still, Alexander took the moment to savour the familiar feeling, aware that even in dire circumstances, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to taste just a bit of what made Maxim Maxim. 

Maxim concluded the deal by clarifying that he was swearing on behalf of himself and his companions, and that Susan was also swearing on her sister’s, before holding out a hand. 

Susan’s much longer fingers engulfed his just as the swell of magic reached its peak, before finally receding. Everyone slumped just a little, relieved to see it over. Alexander let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

“Very well, then,” Maxim said after he'd had a moment to recover. “The curse.”

Susan shook her head. “Your name first, mechanite.”

Alexander stopped breathing again. 

“The name I promised you,” Maxim said.

“Yes.”

“DY-LN.”

Alexander blinked. Then blinked again.

That’s not his name. 

He wasn’t sure why he was so confident about it. It’s not like he’d have any better idea what Maxim’s true name was than the hags did. There’s no way that’s his name. 

“DY-LN,” Susan repeated. 

“Don’t go saying it so freely,” Maxim hissed. “Remember your part of the deal.”

He does SOUND upset about it… but that can’t possibly have been his real name. 

Susan shrugged. “Alright,” she said, before curling her fingers as she conjured a bubbling cauldron onto the table. “As promised.”

Dipping her fingers into the boiling foam, she pulled out first a round eye, perhaps of a bird of some kind, which she crushed in her fist, followed by a spasming piece of muscled flesh and a defaced effigy of a platinum dragon, both of which were crushed in turn. Finally she pulled out a length of human tongue. As she crushed it, a sudden pressure built in Alexander, pulsing painfully through his jaw and down the rest of his body before it abruptly popped. 

As it popped, so too did the shadows around him, and Alexander found himself tumbling back into physical reality, already calling out, “Maxim!”

It hadn’t even been a full day, but oh how he had missed the wonderful feel of his lover’s name tumbling through his lips. 

Maxim spun around to catch him as he stumbled forward. “Alexander! You’re alright?” Maxim held him back as he examined him, scanning for any sign of injury. 

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Alexander assured him. “Apparently I’m no fun to torture.”

He kept his little trip back to those ghastly woods and the suggestion of being made to watch his friends suffer to himself. Those weren’t Maxim’s burdens to bear. 

“And the others?” Maxim asked, just as the Sending from Emeraude slammed at impressive speeds into his skull. 

Hali says, hag’s definitely dead. Maybe allies or coven. There could be more. Be careful. 

Alexander couldn’t help his smile. 

It was a coven. Maxim handled it. I will assume, unless you send another message, that Flint’s okay too. 

He got no response, so he nodded to Maxim. “They’ve all recovered.”

“As I said they would,” Susan said. “Now, if our business is concluded?” She gestured towards the door. 

“It is,” Maxim said, before all but dragging Alexander out the door. 

They didn’t run, but they did set a faster than average pace as they trudged through the swamp. Once the hut was far enough away as to be no longer in their line of sight, Alexander slumped with relief against Maxim’s chest, pulling him into hug.

“You did it! I told you you could!”

“You distinctly did not ,” Maxim said, just to be pedantic, “but I am glad I understood your meaning.”

“As if I could have meant anything else.”

Maxim sighed. “I am very relieved to hear you feeling better, but we really ought to keep moving. I’d hate to be in the vicinity when they realize what I’ve done.”

Alexander glanced up from where he’d buried his face in Maxim’s robes. “Your name. Or, you know, not your name.”

“I… yes. You heard?”

“I saw most of it.”

Maxim nodded. “You figured it out, then? I’d hoped my deception had been better. That… isn’t meant as an insult.”

Alexander shook his head. “I didn’t figure anything out, Maxim. I just… kinda knew as soon as you said it. It didn’t click right.”

“Oh.”

“So what did you do, because you had me really worried for a second there.”

“I agreed to give her a true name, so I did. That one happens to belong to an old colleague at the Transcendent Academy. One who was quite infamous amongst his peers for stealing the work of others and passing it off as his own. I’m quite certain that no one will complain should he suddenly find himself so tragically hexed.”

Alexander laughed. “Of course. Very clever.”

“Very lucky. It was only possible because she insisted on a verbal contract. I’m certain if it had been written down she would have noticed my peculiar wording.”

“She still nitpicked basically everything you said.”

“A fact I used to my advantage. I hoped that by slipping in two loopholes next to each other, she’d focus on the second, more egregious one, and the first would go undetected. It was… a risky gamble.”

“Well, it worked.”

“A fact I am still astounded by. Please never let me do something like that again.”

“Yeah, I don’t know that I’ll want any of us to go making hag bargains again any time soon.”

“If the necessity arises, I trust the matter will be left to you.”

“I don’t know that I’d be any better, Maxim,” Alexander said. “Maybe we should get a lawyer. You’ve got those in Mechanus, haven’t you? Someone who’ll actually read the fine print.”

“So long as it isn’t me.”

Alexander nudged him in the shoulder. “Hey. You pulled through for us when it mattered most. That’s what really counts.”

“Yes, well. You believed I could.”

“This was all you Maxim. I had nothing to do with it— I wasn’t even there.”

“You underestimate the effect you have on me.”

“How so?”

Maxim paused. “There are… scarce few things I think I couldn’t do, if you first believed that I could do them.”

Alexander felt a warmth rushing rapidly to his chest, even as the sentiment rang false in his ears. Sally’s mocking words echoed through his head. “You give me too much credit.”

“I don’t think so,” Maxim said, turning his face away. “I know exactly what kind of coward I’d be without you.”

Alexander sighed, stepping back so he could take Maxim’s head in his hands. “One day—” gently, he tilted Maxim’s back face towards him, “—you’re going to see what I see.”

He had to stand on the tip of his toes to press his forehead against Maxim’s, before lowering himself slightly to lightly press his lips against the bottom of Maxim’s faceplate. A kiss for Maxim and a kiss for him. 

“If you say so,” Maxim said softly. 

“I do.” He swallowed thickly. “Now, you said something about getting out of here before there are vengeful hags after us.” 

Maxim shook himself out of his stupor. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

***

They returned to find Flint happily celebrating the curse’s removal by swinging his axe around just outside the town limits. They dragged him back to the inn with them, finding Emeraude deep in prayer and a pacing, anxious Hali. 

None of them were particularly thrilled by the deal that was made on their behalf, but the conclusion was quickly arrived at that this was probably the best they could have hoped for. 

Alexander gave himself a reasonable window within which to check on each of his party members and assure that they were stable now that the curse had been lifted before all but dragging Maxim up to their room and pushing him down into the bed. 

The top half of Maxim’s robes came off easily, and not a moment after they were discarded Alexander had settled on his side, laid over Maxim’s arm with his face buried in the junction of Maxim’s neck and shoulder, his hand gently tracing the hard lines of Maxim’s torso. 

In the quiet of the room and his close proximity, Alexander could just make out the sounds of Maxim’s mechanics. The soft, ever present ticking of gears, the flicking of switches, the whirring of fans, and most importantly for Alexander, the hitching and stuttering of those mechanisms as they went slightly haywire, the way they always did when he touched Maxim like this. It was a sound he didn’t think he’d ever tire of, and it never failed to bring Alexander a measure of satisfaction to hear the stuttering sounds rise in intensity along the line he dragged down Maxim’s chest. 

He stayed like that for some time, silent, making no move to take things further just yet. Maxim was silent too, though that didn’t necessarily mean he had nothing to say. Alexander knew all too well what being in such a flustered state did to Maxim’s capacity for speech. 

Eventually, Alexander found his eyes drooping, the consistent ticking of Maxim’s mechanics soothing in their familiarity. Still, he forced his eyes open, refusing to let sleep take him, knowing that as soon as it did, Maxim would extract himself from Alexander’s hold and take up his place sitting next to him on the bed. And besides, there was a question on Alexander’s mind, a nagging that when he was fully awake and aware of himself he had the wherewithal to ignore, but in his sleep-addled state, he found it slipping out. 

“Maxim,” he said, breathing the word into the cool metal of Maxim’s throat. 

“Hngh,” Maxim grunted. 

Alexander ceased his tracing along Maxim’s waist, settling his hand against the bed sheets instead. The disappointed shudder that came from Maxim’s mechanisms was startlingly loud, enough that Alexander couldn’t help but give a delighted huff at the sound. 

“Don’t laugh,” Maxim said, groaning in embarrassment. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Alexander said, failing to stifle his snickering. “That was very cute.”

“Did you have something you wanted to say?”

“Hm, right. Maxim?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever considered actually sharing your true name with… with anyone?” 

Maxim went very quiet. 

“I’m not asking you to share it, obviously, I’d never ask that of you, I was just thinking—”

“Of course I have,” Maxim said. 

“Oh. Yeah?”

“Yes. Did you honestly think I’d never even considered telling you?”

“I’ve… wondered.”

“Well, I have. Considered it at length. I would like to, I think.”

“You think?”

“It… it’s a secret I have kept to myself for so long. I cannot recall the last time anyone has referred to me by that name outside of my own head. It would… change things.”

“Would it really make anything different between us?”

“It feels as though it has to,” Maxim said. “Furthermore, we saw just today how useful it can be that it’s a secret.”

“You know I’d never tell a soul.”

“I do know. I know that at my very core. It’s just…”

“You don’t want to tell me.”

“I do. ”

“You’re not ready to tell me.”

“I…”

“It’s alright, Maxim. You don’t need to tell me.”

“I want to.”

“Don’t.”

Alexander pulled himself away from Maxim’s neck and swung a leg over to straddle his waist, hovering over Maxim so he could properly look him in the eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it unless and until you’re ready. Got it?”

“I’ll tell you eventually.”

“I’m happy to wait.”

Maxim still didn’t seem convinced, so Alexander leaned forward, pressing soft kisses to the other side of Maxim’s neck. He knew Maxim didn’t get the same pleasure out of this kind of touch that a human lover might’ve, but he enjoyed doing it, and Maxim had certainly never told him to stop. 

“There’s no rush, Maxim,” he said between kisses. “I’m not going anywhere. We have nothing but time.”

“I… suppose we do,” Maxim said, and Alexander knew he’d won. Oh, Maxim would continue the argument for his pride’s sake, stubborn mule that he was, but they both knew it was over the second Maxim acquiesced to something without any reservations. 

“A name is just a name anyway,” Alexander added for emphasis. “Knowing it won’t change anything, at least not for me. I already love you. Your name would just be another piece of you for me to love.”

“But I want you to know me.”

Alexander snorted. “I do know you, Maxim.”

His hand, still planted in the sheet, moved to slide up Maxim’s side, to a small clasp, invisible to the naked eye, located just below the shoulder in the armpit to further protect it from being accidentally jostled. Its original intended purpose in standardized mechanite bodies, as Maxim had once explained, was so that in case of internal damage, another mechanite or other expert could open the exterior plating to do repairs without causing further damage to the body. But Alexander found it serving his purposes just fine. 

Maxim stiffened as Alexander’s fingers just barely grazed over the clasp and a second later grabbed Alexander’s wrist in an uncharacteristic show of force. 

“Alexander.”

Alexander hummed into Maxim’s neck. 

“I am perfectly aware that you are currently half asleep, or at least you were, moments ago.” Maxim’s voice had grown ragged, verging on desperate. “By which I mean to say, I’d very much hope that you intend to finish what you’ve started.”

“Maxim,” Alexander said, letting a teasing lilt slip into his voice as he sat up to give himself more room to work with, “you’re not actually worried that I wouldn’t, are you? Don’t you trust me?”

“More than anything,” Maxim gasped as his chest plate slid open.