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Thick stone walls stretch across the land into the distance. Massive gates that reach up into the sky stand open, welcoming him in. Martyn has been travelling the continent for years now and he’s never visited Dogwarts before. It’s a magnificent place, wealth is prevalent even from the entrance.
Almost a month ago now Martyn received a letter. He doesn’t know how his brother found where he was staying considering how often he moves around, let alone how to get a letter there. It was a welcome surprise though, before then he hadn’t heard from any of his siblings in years. Not since… Well, everything. It wouldn’t have surprised him if they had all been dead. And now he’s going to be seeing them tonight. Grian, Pearl, and Jimmy. Two older, one younger.
Martyn takes a deep breath and steps forward, entering into the city state. Before he can get any further one of the guards waves him over. His heart drops and he almost turns tail and flees in that moment.
Plastering a grin on his face in an attempt to seem less nervous, Martyn saunters over to the waiting soldier, “Hey man, how can I help you?”
“Nothing to difficult, I’ll just need your name and business here. Standard protocol you know,”
“The names Martyn Littlewood,” Of course it’s not his actual last name, though it might as well be with how long he’s been using it, “I’m just here to visit some family and take in the sights,”
The guards scribbles his information down in a worn book before addressing him again, “Who are you visiting? Anyone I might know?”
Martyn balks, apparently, they are quite well known. (Grian bragged about it extensively in his letter.) It’s most likely just paranoia but something about telling the guard this doesn’t sit right with him. The man is still waiting for a response and Martyn scrambles to not seem suspicious, “No probably not, just my siblings,”
“The guard nods, “Ah well, makes sense.” He holds his hand out for Martyn to shake, “The names BigB, feel free to say hello if you see me,”
Martyn shakes it firmly, nodding in agreement. As fast as he can without looking like he’s running away he turns and hurries off into the crowds.
The city is built on a hill, layers stacked on top of each other like a cake. The lower areas are the most typical. Narrow buildings, dingy shopfronts and beggars kneeling on the side of the road. Horses clatter past towing carriages and children run around yelling at each other. It’s been a long time since Martyn visited a city, it’s overwhelming. The lower residential areas are more peaceful, yet he doesn’t linger.
It’s only when Martyn reaches a large market street that he slows. Merchants shout from brightly coloured stalls. Tables are stacked high with all different kinds of food, treasures, and weapons. The street is busy with people going about their days, and he sticks close to the edge of the crowd.
A stall catches his eye, and Martyn practically has to wade through the throngs of people to get there. It sells ornate and bejewelled weapons, one in particular appeals to him, a large axe with rubies embedded into the hilt. He can’t imagine when he would use it but it’s certainly pretty. He studies it while the shopkeeper eyes him.
Martyn is about to ask the merchant a question when out of nowhere someone barrels into him, nearly sending them both sprawling. As it is he still bumps into the stall, sending a display of daggers tumbling to the floor, enraging the owner.
The person who caused all this steps back muttering apologies. It’s a man only a tiny bit shorter than Martyn with long brown hair. His clothes are of fine make and dark sunglasses sit askew on his face. He looks Martyn up and down, “You wouldn’t mind helping a friend out, would you?”
Baffled Martyn nods slightly, something about the man intrigues him, and not just because he’s definitely rich. The shopkeeper has begun to yell now and getting out of here would most likely be in his best interests. In the distance Martyn can hear the clamouring of royal guards as they shout a name, sounding more worried then angry. He doesn’t get to take in anymore though because it’s at that point the stranger grabs his wrist, yanking him along.
The two duck into a small, empty alleyway that’s stacked up with crates. The soldiers are closer now and the man looks panicked.
“What’s going-“ Martyn is cut off by a hand being slapped across his mouth.
“Be quiet,” The stranger hisses, his voice has an unfamiliar but pleasant lilt to it, “Unless you want us to get caught,”
Martyn would very much like to say something about how he’s not the one that’s running away and actually he could just turn them in right now. Something in the desperate look he receives makes him rethink that however and he keeps his mouth shut.
The clamour has practically reached them and in one sudden motion the man backs up against a pile of crates, pulling Martyn with him and effectively hiding himself from view. Their bodies are pressed together, breaths mingling, and Martyn can feel a flush creeping across his cheeks.
It is only once the guards have passed that Martyn can step back. The strangers hand slipping from his wrist.
“Okay what is going on?” He’s not really angry, more confused.
The man sighs, “Sorry about all that,” he waves a hand in the direction of the market, “If they found me, I would’ve gotten dragged right back home. I’m Ren by the way,”
Ren looks at Martyn expectantly, it doesn't seem particularly wise to give his name away to handsome men that are on the run from authorities but just this once he can make an exception, “Martyn, I’m Martyn,”
Ren’s face breaks into a sunny smile, “Good to meet you Martyn! Thanks for giving me a hand there. How about as a form of payment I give you a bit of a tour, show you the sights!”
There’s still a couple hours left to kill before he needs to find the address Grian gave him in his letter. Martyn considers it for a moment before deciding, “Yeah alright,”
And so, the tour begins.
Despite the circumstances in which they met Martyn finds that he quite likes Ren. The two spend some time in the markets (managing to avoid the weapon salesman who probably still holds a grudge against them. Ren shows him the canal which holds most of the cities fresh water and they wander down different roads, some busy, other not. He doesn’t ask any questions about Martyn, and he does the same in return. It’s nice in its own strange way, something he’s never experienced before.
When he mentions food Ren’s face lights up. Taking Martyn’s hand (much more gently then earlier) he tugs him down a peaceful street lined with trees until they reach a small building. The front has large windows to let light in and through the glass he can see rows of pastries and an assortment of teas. Inside the café is cosy with dark wooden walls and small tables.
Martyn doesn’t recognize anything on the menu so Ren orders for them. A friendly waitress delivers them two steaming mugs and a small pile of pastries topped with fruit. The food is delicious and Ren gives him that same grin when Martyn tells him that. The two talk like old friends and Martyn doesn’t even realise how late it is until the street outside begins to darken.
He curses, his chair screeching as he pushes it back, “I have to go! Thank you so much for all this,”
Ren stands, only looking a little disappointed, “Of course, it was good to meet you, my dude!” He clasps Martyn’s hand and brings it to his lips, breathing the words onto his skin, “We will meet again,”
Once again Martyn’s face burns, “I hope we do,”
The paper with the address is crumpled and worn from all the times Martyn has taken it out to look at it. ‘89 desert way in the west corner of the upper residential area, past the statue of the llama.’ it reads. Grian’s messy writing is still familiar even so many years later and he holds that close to his chest. Even if they didn’t part on the best terms, he can’t help the joy at knowing they’re all alive and well.
The location is surprisingly close according to the map and Martyn strolls through the streets at a leisurely pace. The evening light gives the city a magical glow. As he goes further shopfronts begin to morph into townhouses, signs giving way to window boxes. It’s quieter in this part of town and Martyn can feel his nerves growing with every step.
In what feels like no time at all he’s standing in front of his destination. The house has a welcoming look, two stories tall with torches burning in the windows. Inside a dog barks merrily. Gathering his courage Martyn knocks on the door.
It takes a minute for someone to answer and in that time, he considers turning around and fleeing the city altogether. But then the door swings open to reveal an unfamiliar man with shockingly bright teal hair.
“Hello?” His accent is similar to Rens, “Can I help you?”
Martyn goes to apologise because this is clearly not the right place but then he hears a laugh come from deeper into the house and its so obviously Pearl that his heart leaps, she sounds just like he remembers. The teal haired man is waiting impatiently for a response, and he takes a deep breath, “Is this where Grian lives? I’m Martyn, his brother.”
Recognition flashes across the mans face, “Just a second,” He disappears down the hall and Martyn can just hear him yell, “Hey guys? You’re going to want to come here,” Returning to the door he beckons Martyn in, “They’ll only be a second,”
As if summoned by that statement Jimmy steps out. He looks different, older, yet it’s definitely him. He doesn’t see Martyn in the entrance straight away, instead addressing the other person, “What’s going on Scott-“ Cutting himself off when he finally looks up and stops in his tracks.
“Hey Timmy… Long time no see?” Martyn says sheepishly, there’s silence for a second Jimmy just staring at him, eyes wide. But then he’s launching himself at Martyn and wrapping him in a suffocating hug.
“Is it really you?” Jimmy seems on the verge of tears as he steps back, looking him up and down, “Come in! Grian and Pearl are going to be so excited,”
The inside of the house is even nicer then the outside. Paintings line the walls of a cosy living room and pas that there’s a large kitchen where Pearl and Grian are. A massive white dog lies on the floor panting and something bubbles away in a pot. Upon seeing Martyn, Pearl drops the spoon she’s holding with a clatter.
She seems at a loss for words and Martyn has to bite his tounge to stop from babbling out any number of apologies and explanations at the angry look on her face. Grian looks uncharacteristically nervous as she walks up to him and punches him (incredibly hard) on the shoulder. Before he can protest this, she’s pulling him into a hug, even tighter than Jimmy’s. She’s always been the strongest of the four of them.
Visibly relaxing when she doesn’t start yelling, Grian worms his way into the embrace and them Jimmy throws his arms around all of them while Scott (as his name apparently is) watches with amusement.
“I was half convinced you would never show up!” Grian is practically bouncing up and down when they’re all released from the group hug. He sobers up pretty quickly though, glancing between the other people gathered with a frown. Jimmy presses himself to Scott’s side, looking nervous, and it’s at that point Martyn notices the matching wedding bands they’re wearing. That’s a whole other thing to discuss but with the sudden mood change, now might not be the best time.
“Martyn, I know it’s been a while, nine years to be accurate. But… I didn’t send you a letter just to reconnect,” Grian states slowly, not meeting Martyn's gaze “We need your help,” he trails off, glancing around for someone to take over.
In the end it’s Pearl who continues, “How would you like to help us kill a king?”