Quentin stumbles across an important part of his and Eliot's past life in Fillory while out for a walk, so they both decide to go check it out.
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N/A
As promised, he'd been sitting by the (entirely un-decorated) fireplace downstairs in the Cottage reading when Eliot came back from whatever it was that he'd been doing. Quentin was curious, but he also knew he didn't need to know where Eliot was every moment of every day. He smiled at him from his spot on the sofa and then turned his attention briefly back to his book, just long enough to slip the marker back between the pages and close it.
"I'm glad you're home," he said quietly, climbing off of the piece of furniture and crossing over to where the taller magician stood. "Do you need a few minutes before we go?" Are you nervous? Do you even still want to go? Q stopped himself from asking those other two questions. "It's surprisingly easy to get to from here, so it's not much of a walk once we get to the waypoint that's down the road a bit." Which he admittedly didn't use very often -- it was way more convenient just having a waypoint inside of the clock that used to be a doorway to Fillory once upon a time. Except that spit you out closer to the city than another part of the forest, he'd found.
Eliot returned home to find Quentin exactly where he said he'd be. It was so Quentin to sit by the fire and read. He returned the smile when the other looked up. How could he have so much shit going through his head at once and yet when Q smiled at him it seemed to all melt away? Even if only temporary, his smile was like magic.
"Missed me, huh?" he grinned. "Nah. I'm ready to go whenever you are." Of course he was a little nervous. They were going to the cottage. It was a place Eliot thought he would never see again. The place...everything began and that he ended once they were back in the "real" world. He didn't want to think about that though. "Get your coat. It's chilly out." Once Quentin had his coat they left and began to make their way to the waypoint. "Thanks for not decorating without me. I was kind of teasing, but it's been fun decorating with you." He most likely would not have done much of anything if back at Brakebills.
He knew that Eliot was teasing him when he asked if he'd missed him, but there was always at least a part of Quentin that missed him when they weren't together. It was a sappy thing to admit though, so he kept that little fact to himself and merely rolled his eyes playfully in response. "Yes, sir," he teased right back, finding his coat and pulling it on. Better to bundle up -- not like the little cottage had central heating or anything, right?
Q shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked, glancing down at his feet and then up to Eliot, smiling again. "Well, I wasn't planning on doing much without you anyways, so digging into that book seemed just as good of an idea while I waited." He led them to the waypoint and then through it easily and then directed them down a nearby path. "So kind of like back in Fillory, it's tucked away among the trees... honestly, for a second I almost thought I was back in Fillory when I found it. Weird, right? It seriously just looks... well. Lived in, I guess?" And loved in. He couldn't pinpoint the exact time the little house and the mosaic seemed to come from, but it was certainly from several years into their life that seemed to only be memories now.
"You're a good man, Q" Eliot said. It almost seemed out of the blue, but it wasn't. "One of these days you're going to tell me to fuck off and do whatever you want or not wait for me. I'll go wide eyed and get dramatic. We'll argue then have amazing make up sex." He smirked, chuckling a bit then reached for Quentin's hand to hold as they made their way down a path.
Eliot felt his heartbeat begin to quicken as they walked. "I would have probably thought the same thing." After all, why would the mosaic and cottage be here? His heart jumped when the cottage came into view. They came to a stop beside the mosaic and his eyes moved all around, taking everything in. It looked just as it had back then. Emotional overload hit him. So many memories flooded his mind.
He looked over at Quentin and squeezed his hand. "This is..." Eliot wasn't sure he had the right words. The mosaic had been the source of arguments. Quentin walking away in frustration. Eliot threatening to break the tiles. He never would have, but there were days he definitely wanted to. He knelt down and picked one up. The chalk dust came off on his fingers and he smiled. "So much chalk dust. I swear it got everywhere." He stood and fixed his eyes on the cottage. "Shall we go in?"
Q snorted softly and shook his head. "Look, maybe. I'd have to be really annoyed with whatever it is to tell you to fuck off, I think. Though the make up sex would be worth it." He grinned and squeezed Eliot's hand when he took it, easily threading their fingers together. It felt good to be able to hold his hand like this; it was something he'd wanted for... well, a long time, it seemed.
As the cottage came into view, he looked up at Eliot and gave him the time he needed to let the initial shock of it all settle over him. He'd felt the same. The flood of emotions and memories. "It's a lot, I know." A lot wasn't the word Eliot had been looking for, he was sure, but it still summed it up fairly well. "In a good way, though. I think." His eyes followed Eliot as he knelt down to pick up a tile and he smiled, chuckling a bit. "Yeah," he said with a nod, moving past the mosaic and to the door, which creaked softly when he pulled it open. "Holy shit..."
"You've got it in you. And I know I really annoy you sometimes. You're just too nice or something to say it most of the time." Eliot smirked and nudged Quentin. "Perv," he teased.
"It is a lot," he agreed. "Kind of like memory overload." Good and bad memories. "Mostly good." There was no denying there were some not so great memories associated with the mosaic and the cottage, but he wasn't going to focus on them. Eliot took a deep breath before the cottage door was opened. He stepped inside and looked all around. "It looks the same as it did back then," he said in quiet awe. There was the patchwork quilt over the bed they'd shared. The copper mugs. The fireplace, the little table they ate at. "Who gets that kind of proof of concept?" Eliot turned his gaze to Quentin remembering the words well and his own that followed.
He had the urge to apologize, but didn't. "Sorry. Just a lot coming back to me." He moved to slide his arm around Quentin.
As they entered the small cottage and looked around, Q felt himself become overwhelmed with memories of his own. Coming across the building and the mosaic had been one thing, but being inside of their home -- the one they'd shared together, and with Arielle, and their son... he looked at the furniture and things laid on the table, as if they'd only just gone to run an errand.
His eyes welled and he blinked back his tears, looking up at Eliot at his words. "Apparently we do," he replied quietly, forcing out a soft half-laugh before he leaned into Eliot, turning so that he could hug him, head against his chest.
Eliot took a deep breath. It was almost like stepping back in time. He could smell the fire, hear Arielle humming as she cooked, hear Teddy laughing and calling for his mother and dad. He swallowed hard and saw the tears in Quentin's eyes when he looked at him. It made his heart squeeze in his chest. Maybe he wasn't always as emotional, but he still felt it in his heart, his soul. This place was filled with beautiful and sad memories.
He wrapped both arms around Quentin and held him close, dropping a kiss on top of his head. "I understand, Q," he said softly. "We found the beauty of all life here." Living life. Loving. Family. Building a home. That was the beauty of life. He wasn't sure if they would have actually found that had they been back in their real world then.
Quentin was nearly positive they wouldn't have found what they did without the quest that sent them back in time to a point in Fillory neither of them would've made it to otherwise. Or at least he was pretty sure that was the case. Still, the remark made him chuckle softly, burying his face against Eliot for a moment as he grappled with the emotions he felt. "Says the guy who didn't even know what the mosaic was," he teased quietly.
He stayed where he was in Eliot's arms for another moment or two before tilting his head back enough to look up at him. He didn't say anything though, just admired him, taking in everything about that exact moment in time. Finally he pushed himself up enough to press a kiss to Eliot's lips, allowing it to linger gently before murmuring an 'I love you, El' into it.
"Sorry I wasn't a nerdy Fillory fanboy," he teased gently with love and affection behind the words. If Quentin wasn't who he was then there was a good possibility many things wouldn't have happened as they had. Including their little cottage in Fillory and falling in love.
In the quiet of the moment Eliot felt such a warmth as he held Quentin. When he looked up at him he smiled fondly at him somehow knowing, or perhaps feeling the same way he did. He returned the sweet kiss giving Quentin a squeeze. "I love you, Q. So much. Whatever happens, don't ever forget that."
Eliot rubbed over Quentin's back as they stood there. Maybe Vallo wasn't such a bad place after all. He still wasn't sure he'd ever truly consider it home, but Quentin was there, they were together and that's really all that mattered. "You ready to go? Or do you want to stay longer?"
The question almost immediately made Quentin give a small shake of his head, settling back down onto his feet and taking a step back. "No, I want to stay for a bit," he replied, his voice hushed. His eyes were still wet with tears that hadn't spilled over, but he offered Eliot a small smile before he turned to take in the small cottage again. There was nothing he could immediately see that gave him a frame of reference for when the cottage came from, but there was at least a smaller bed near their larger one -- so Teddy had been old enough for his own by that point.
He swallowed a small, dry lump that had formed in his throat and moved over to the bed, sitting down on it and pulling the patchwork quilt up to his nose to breathe in the scent of it. That made him laugh quietly, sadly, and the tears that had welled finally trickled down over onto his cheeks. "It smells like us."
"Okay. We'll stay as long as you'd like." Eliot let his arms fall to his sides when Quentin moved away. He still had a lot of emotions coursing through him. He let his fingers slide over the wooden table they had eaten their meals at, talked, laughed and just been together at.
He glanced up to Quentin when he spoke. He blinked a few times. "I imagine it does," he replied quietly. "I'm going back outside." Eliot turned and pushed open the door to step outside. He took a deep breath and shakily exhaled. Get it together, Waugh. You have to be strong. You have to be the strong one. He moved to look at the mosaic again recalling frustration and fights over it, but more so how they'd worked together.
Q stayed there for a few minutes, taking in the quiet of the little cottage after Eliot had gone back outside. This had been their home for fifty years and now it was... what? The realization that hit him was that he had no idea what they were supposed to do with it now. Did they just let it sit and seemingly collect dust like Castle Whitespire? Quentin wasn't sure he could stomach letting that happen to this small house and the mosaic that came with it.
He finally moved to head back outside and came up beside Eliot, his hand seeking out his and lacing their fingers together again. "How're you feeling?" he asked quietly, his eyes taking in the half-done picture laid before them before he looked up at Eliot.
It was like an emotional weight had settled on him. Eliot hadn't expected to feel such heavy emotion. Of course he knew he would be emotional. The cottage, the mosaic, Teddy, the memories, everything...it was a lot.
He heard Quentin approach then he spoke. "I'm okay. I'm good," he replied, looking over to meet his gaze. "Just thinking about things." He offered a small smile before looking back to the mosaic.
He held his gaze on Eliot's for a moment, gauging just how much truth there was to him saying that he was okay. Quentin knew just as much as he did that this was a lot; it had been a lot when they'd started remembering parts of that timeline, but having something tangible from it here? That hit different and harder. Q brought Eliot's hand up and he pressed a kiss to the back of it before moving away again, crossing over onto the half-done mosaic and eyeing the design they'd clearly been working on. "What should we do?" he asked after a moment, toeing a loose tile gently. "About this place being here, I mean?"
"Don't do that," Eliot said when Quentin toed at one of the tiles. "They're fragile." He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "We should put a ward on all of it. I don't want anyone messing with it or fucking it up." That would not sit well with him at all.
"It's part of our history. We can come visit it anytime." If Quentin wanted to. He wasn't sure anymore.
Nor would it sit well with Quentin and with the sort of disasters Vallo liked to throw at them from time to time, the last thing he wanted was any part of this getting trampled by some creature from another world. "Sorry," he mumbled, pulling his foot back and looking back over at him. "I mean, I know it doesn't have running water or plumbing, but you don't want to...?" He let the end of that question sort of hang before giving his shoulders a small shrug. They had the other cottage. The one from Brakebills. But this was their home, wasn't it? He crossed back over to stand beside Eliot, biting back a sigh. "Are you sure you're good?"
"Don't want to what? I'm not a mind reader, Q." As appealing as that may be at times. Ultimately he didn't think he'd like it very much.
"Yeah, I'm sure." It had been a long day already. Seeing the cottage and mosaic made him think of home and miss it. Which made him feel guilty because Quentin wouldn't be there or not for long according to what he'd been told. That is if he was taken back home to when he'd left.
Eliot set about adding a ward to everything. Even testing it out. "I'm not sure most would even find this place."
Q lifted his hands and began to quietly help adding wards around the property, frowning a little to himself for a moment before turning back to Eliot. "I mean, would it be weird to live here instead of the other cottage?" he asked gently. "Maybe it would be. Like, I love the other cottage, don't get me wrong, but... I dunno. This one's ours?" His shoulders lifted and dropped in a small shrug before he went back to focusing on the tuts he needed to do for the warding spell. "If you don't want to do that, I really would understand because I know this is a lot, it just kind of popped into my head, is all."
Eliot turned to look at Quentin. He wasn't surprised he asked about living in the cottage. It was so him. He liked to think he understood why he asked.
"Do you think we would be happy living here? Yes, this is our home, but there's no running water, no heat, no electricity and it's small. I love this cottage and I can see the appeal of living here." He paused. "I just don't think I could." Back in Fillory it had been different. They had no other choice. Eliot reached for Quentin's hand. "Do you think you could live here?"
"I mean, that's all stuff we could get added, right? It didn't exist in Fillory so it couldn't exist in the cottage, but we made due. The fireplace kept it warm enough when it got cold..." Quentin let his words trail off and when Eliot reached for his hand, he gave it a gentle squeeze. He wasn't upset at all by the other man not wanting to live there. It was a big ask. They'd made it their home in Fillory because that had been the choice they were given; plus it was the quest, wasn't it? The mosaic. They couldn't leave that, so they made due.
"Maybe, at the very least, we could work on getting some of that stuff added over time and let it be a place we can both go when we need to get out of the other cottage? How does that sound?"
"Yes, we could," Eliot smiled. "We did make do. We had a full life in this cottage." It would always be special and dear to him. "We can do anything you'd like to make it a place we can go to when we need to get away."
Eliot stepped closer to Quentin and slid his fingers under his chin to lift it. "I can and have no problem staying in it as is for a weekend or a few days. Pack up some extra blankets and no perishable food and water, and we're all set." He smiled gently. "How does that sound?"
His chin tilted up at the gesture and he met Eliot's gaze easily, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he looked at him. "I think that sounds kind of like the perfect compromise." They didn't need to live there, but Quentin was desperate to still give it the attention it deserved, even if it was only every now and then.
With his smile growing, Q pushed himself up to catch Eliot's mouth in a slow kiss, his free hand coming up to gently grasp at the back of his neck as it lingered. He had half a mind to suggest that they take advantage of the wards, of the fact that no one else knew where their little alternate timeline home was, but he didn't. There would always (hopefully) be time for that later.
Eliot smiled a bright genuine smile. "Yeah? Good. I'd never just let this place sit here empty. Never." He wanted Quentin to know just how much the cottage meant to him.
He hummed into the kiss letting his arms wrap around Quentin once again. He really kinda loved when he pushed up on his tiptoes to kiss. As the kiss ended he nuzzled against Quentin. "Are you ready to go now? I'm feeling like tonight we should have pizza and wine for dinner. Then maybe a little of the devil's lettuce." He smirked and gave Q a look as he waggled his eyebrows.
The way Eliot had smiled before he kissed him had certainly made Quentin feel a certain way, primarily that of 'ohgodI'msoinlovewiththisman' mixed with a healthy dose of butterflies in the pit of his stomach. And it had only encouraged him to kiss him more, more, more. Sometimes, Q wondered if he'd ever tire of kissing Eliot. The answer was absolutely not.
He chuckled softly as the kiss broke and he settled back down to his usual height, which was incredibly short by comparison, though his head remained tilted while Eliot nuzzled him. "We can go whenever you want to," he replied softly, smiling, his eyes half-lidded. Though when Eliot pulled back to wiggle his eyebrows, Q rolled his eyes playfully. "The devil's lettuce. You're ridiculous sometimes," he said, chuckling as he moved to take Eliot's hand. "But pizza and wine sounds really good. And we can do a movie, too? Just a night in."