Work Text:
Gem was a prodigy. There was no other way to describe her after she erected a castle in a week. And the worst part was, she wasn’t even done! Not close! Tommy could not wrap his head around it.
Obviously, he knew what it was going to look like in the end. He knew it was going to be tall, taller than anything he’d ever seen built before. Seeing it before his eyes was a different experience. Her inspiration photos did not do the place justice. The castle was dark, looming and foreboding, intimidating with red darker than blood. Just what he needed to scare the other hermits off! (Not that it would work, hermits are innately social creatures, he’s been learning.)
He’s been learning a lot about the hermits lately, through osmosis or otherwise. He’s seen the builds cropping up around, and according to Gem, builds like this were normal. Encouraged, even. Add crazy to the list to describe a hermit.
In his old home, you’d be lucky if your build lasted a week, especially if you lived in a high traffic area like he did. You kept it simple, easy to repair. Nothing like this.
He ignored the memories of a ruined country, a smoking crater of his hopes and dreams. His unfinished symphony, his not brother called it. Why did he ever think of him as a brother?
Tommy sat on the raised lawn outside Gem’s castle, watching as she flew around on Gorgeous. Of course Gem would name her happy ghast Gorgeous. She was just like that. She doted on every creature that looked her way. And while Tommy disagreed with her naming choices, he felt a comradery with the fellow animal lover. Gem would never torture chickens just because (looking at you, Mumbo Jumbo. Who names their kid Mumbo, anyway?)
Gem was working on some nitty gritty details. Texturing, she had called it. Seemed like a waste of time to him. This meant that the fae’s people watching had become boring. At the time, agreeing to oversee construction of his castle was a good idea. Past Tommy was wrong.
He couldn’t just leave, though. Tommy agreed, had practically jumped on the opportunity to oversee Gem’s construction. It would be morally wrong of him to abandon his post.
That's how he ended up dangling off one of Gem’s torches, entranced by the fire, his wings fluttering with interest with each flicker. Regular fire burnt out after time, but this fire? It withstood rain and shine. He pulled himself up slightly so he could peer at the coals. The red rocks burned furiously, magically. Netherrack, his brain supplied. Gem needed loads of it.
He never gave the red rock much thought before, but up close, he could see the magic at work, how it effortlessly flickered into flame. Red turning to orange turning to yellow. Occasionally, a spark of blue would flit out the flames, and Tommy would gape in awe.
A creature of the woods, fire was always a threat. But here, controlled and secluded, Tommy was overconfident. He shifted his grasp from the lip of the upsidedown stair to the bars enclosing the fire and screamed.
HOT HOT HOT! His hands drew themselves back without his input and suddenly, he was falling, his world a searing sizzling bundle of fingers. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus, couldn’t process anything besides white hot pain.
He landed with a thump.
“Tommy!” Someone called, probably Gem but it really could be anyone. Tommy was too busy groaning in pain. His eyelids closed as tight as possible as he clutched his hands to his chest.
“Tommy?” The voice called again, closer this time. He felt himself being shaken.
“Tommy, open your eyes buddy,” Okay, this was definitely Gem. He squinted his eyes and caught a glimpse of her fiery ginger hair, curls light and free.
“Gem, ‘m dyin,” Tommy mumbled. At least his wings caught air on instinct, softening his fall. Still didn’t help his burns, though.
“No, you’re not, I can assure you of that,” Gem had the gall to sound a little lighthearted. Lighthearted, at his pain! “What happened?”
His head lolled to the side, eyes opening to see a sideways entrance to the castle. “Wanted to see the fire in your stupid torch,” the fae explained halfheartedly. Gem’s eyes widened.
“You didn’t touch the iron bars, did you?”
Well, shit.
“Maybeee?” He offered weakly.
“Tommy!” Gem scolded. She shook her head, curls bouncing in time. Tommy always liked her hair, it inspired him to be better, or something. Too bad he’s dying. He’ll never see her shiny hair again.
“Show me your hands,” The ginger gently prodded at his fingers, and he held them palm up. Gem grimaced at the blistering red wound.
“Tell my family I love them,” Tommy whispered.
“What family?” Gem shot back as she placed down an enderchest, rifling through its contents.
“ ‘enry, me cow.”
“Your cow.”
“Yes, Henry. He’ll miss me.”
“Okayyyy,” she drawled. Finally, Gem pulled out what she was looking for, a bottle containing a magenta red liquid. A health potion. “This will only hurt for a second,” She added, uncorking the bottle. She doused a cloth with the potion, gently rubbing it on his palms, and instantly he sighed with relief. He would be crying if he wasn’t such a big man who could handle any sort of pain ever. Don’t look too closely at his eyes.
The angry sizzling numbed down to a dull thrum, and while his hands still held an abnormal amount of warmth, the difference was noticeable. Most of the blistering had died down, too.
“That’s weird,” Gem noted. “I was super quick, the potion should have healed it all.”
Stupid iron, fucking with his healing. What a pain.
“Thanks, Gem,” He commented instead, because there was no way he was going to admit his weakness to another person again. He almost shuttered at the thought of what happened last time. (Even though Gem just saved his sorry butt. Can never be too sure.)
“Told you you wouldn’t die,” Gem laughed.
Tommy had a list of words he used to describe the hermits, including
1. Selfish, and
2. Crazy
But now he thought he might have to add another word to that list.
3. Kind