Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 174

**TARYN**

Vidar is in my garden. VIDAR IS IN MY GARDEN. I don’t know why that thought makes me panic, but it absolutely does. Suddenly everything looks wrong, the wildflowers are uneven, that fern looks droopy, and the moss by the pond could use trimming. I feel the ridiculous urge to start pruning or fluffing leaves or something. It’s a shame it isn’t spring. The garden always looks its best then, all blossoms and birdsong and new green shoots. Right now, it’s fine, lovely even, but not spectacular. And why do I care so much if it looks spectacular? I’m being ridiculous.

“It’s lovely out here.” Vidar says quietly. Oh. Oh no. Compliments. He’s smiling that shy, hesitant smile that makes his eyes look so soft. Is he just being polite? Or does he actually mean it? I can’t tell, and I’m spiraling. 

“Thanks.” I manage, forcing myself to sound sweet instead of panicked. Why am I trying so hard? It’s like my brain has forgotten how to hold a normal conversation. Two minutes in and I’m already emotionally exhausted.

“So…” He says, his voice trailing off.

“Yeah…” I echo, matching his tone perfectly. We both freeze. The silence stretches. Then, out of nowhere, Vidar starts laughing, a full, genuine laugh that shakes his shoulders and crinkles the corners of his eyes. It’s deep and warm, and before I can stop myself, I’m laughing too. I have no idea why I’m laughing, but I can’t stop. Maybe it’s the absurdity of it all, maybe it’s just relief. When we finally manage to breathe again, I wipe my eyes. 

“Why are we laughing?” I ask breathlessly. Vidar grins.

“Because we’re both so awkward. Not sure why you’re laughing.” He answers. 

“Pretty much the same reason.” I admit. 

“Also I’m weirdly nervous about what you’ll think of my home.” I add. He raises an eyebrow, that dry humour sneaking into his expression. “My home is literally ashes, Taryn. I don’t think I’m going to be hard to impress. Not to mention that the first time I ever stepped outdoors was barely a month ago.” He reminds me. I wince, instantly regretting my own nerves. 

“I’m sorry about the library. I don’t think I’ve had a chance to say that yet.” I say softly. He shrugs, his smile still in place, but it’s the kind of smile people wear when they’re holding something in. 

“It’s fine. It could have turned out worse. I could have died. And hey, now I get to explore the world, see new things. Kacia’s even building some fancy new place for me to live. So it’s almost like an upgrade, right?” He sounds optimistic, even cheerful. But his eyes… They give him away. I narrow mine slightly, studying him. 

“But it bothers you, doesn’t it?” I ask. 

“No, not at all.” He says quickly. 

“It’s… A relief, honestly. I’m not trapped anymore. I can go wherever I want. I can come speak to you.” He looks right at me when he says it, and my heart does this stupid flutter thing. But I still don’t believe him. He lived in that library for his entire life. Every memory, every purpose, every heartbeat he’s ever had was tied to those walls. Gargoyles aren’t made for freedom, they’re made for guardianship. I can tell myself he’s healing, adapting, trying to move on. But the truth is written all over him. He might be free… But part of him is still standing in the ashes.

I clear my throat softly, choosing my words with care. 

“In the nicest way possible… I know that you’re lying to me right now.” I say. Vidar looks up, startled, but I keep my voice calm, kind. 

“I get why you’re doing it, trying to focus on the bright side, keep everything positive. But if you ever want to talk about it, I don’t think anyone will understand better than me.” I tell him. He blinks, wary but listening.

“I’m a dryad.” I continue. 

“I KNOW what it’s like to be bound to one place. You had the library, I have my tree. It’s frustrating sometimes that I can’t leave, that I can only watch the world go by. But I wouldn’t trade my tree for anything. It’s part of me. Without it, I’d feel… Broken. Empty, maybe. I imagine that’s what it’s like for you.” I try to explain. The words hang between us. The rustling of the leaves fills the silence, soft and steady, like the garden itself is listening.

“It’s great that you’re looking on the bright side, but you’re allowed to be sad, you know.” I add gently. For a long moment, Vidar just stares at me. Then he blinks a few times, and his shoulders slump forward. His gaze drops to the ground.

“It’s really hard. It hurts so much.” He whispers. The words are so quiet I almost miss them. They’re raw, fragile, and they shatter my heart a little. Without thinking, I move closer and wrap my arms around him, or try to. He’s so much larger than I expected. His chest is solid, his shoulders broad, and I can’t quite get my arms all the way around, but I do my best. He goes rigid for a heartbeat, as if unsure what to do with the contact. Then he exhales and leans down slightly, his forehead brushing the top of my head. His breath is warm, heavy with emotion. We sit there quietly for several minutes, the sound of wind and construction far in the background. It’s the kind of silence that feels heavy but healing, a silence that says everything words can’t. Eventually, I speak.

“Is there… Anything left of it?” I ask softly. 

“Kacia mentioned a book. Clarence has some of the returned ones, and the new library’s being built. I know it won’t be the same, but maybe there’ll be a few familiar things?” I suggest. Vidar clears his throat and straightens up a little. For a second, I worry I’ve said the wrong thing, that I’ve poked at a wound that isn’t ready to be touched. But then he reaches into his satchel and carefully pulls out an old book. It’s worn, the spine cracked and pages slightly scorched, but it’s still whole. Still alive somehow.

“I saved this one.” He says quietly. His fingers trace the cover like it’s something sacred. I smile. 

“See? It’s not all gone.” I say optimistically. He nods faintly, eyes fixed on the book. 

“I think… I’m bound to it now. I can’t seem to leave it behind. It might be emotional, or anxiety, maybe, but it doesn’t feel like that. It feels… Literal. Like the bond shifted. I don’t feel that way about any of the other books. Just this one.” He confesses. 

“Woah, I guess that makes sense. You should probably take good care of it, though. It’s… A little more delicate than an entire building.” I point out. That earns a faint, reluctant smile. 

“Yeah. I was thinking I’d ask some of our fae friends about enchantments or preservation spells, something to protect it from the elements.” He hesitates, then adds quietly. 

“Especially fire.” He says softly. I nod quickly.

“Good idea. And yeah, having fae friends is definitely useful. Huh… Never thought I’d say that. Fae friends. It still sounds weird.” Vidar chuckles softly. 

“No kidding. Very weird.” He agrees. 

“But good.” I add with a grin. 

“Kacia’s a good fae, or half fae I guess. And Tarish seems okay too. Not what I expected, honestly.” I comment. 

“That’s true, Kacia is very good-hearted.” He says with quiet certainty. Something in his voice when he says it, calm, sure, full of respect, it makes me smile. I glance at the book again, resting in his hands like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “

You know, it’s kind of poetic. You spent your whole life guarding the library. Now the library’s guarding you. Keeping you alive.” I say softly. He looks at me then, really looks, and there’s something in his expression that feels like gratitude and grief all at once.

“The new library should be really cool.” I say, trying to sound encouraging. Vidar nods quietly.

“And you’ll have your own place in it.” I add, watching him for a reaction. Another nod. 

“And…” I hesitate, smiling a little. 

“So will I. Sort of.” I add. That makes him pause mid-motion. His head tilts slightly, confusion flickering across his features.

“Huh?” He asks. 

“She’s adding something new,” I explain, excitement building in my voice. 

“A sort of conservatory, just over there, within the range of my tree, right beside the building she’s adding for you. That way, I’ll have somewhere to host guests when the weather isn’t amazing. I like the rain and the sun, they nourish me, but most people aren’t eager to sit around in the mud or drizzle.” I explain as I gesture toward the edge of my grove, already picturing it. Glass walls glowing with sunlight, shelves of green plants thriving inside, a warm, safe place filled with laughter and books.

“So this way, I can spend more time with people. And it’ll give me a dry, safe space to keep my books. I’ll actually be able to read them on rainy days!” I point out. Vidar’s watching me with that quiet, soft smile of his, the kind that makes his eyes crease faintly at the corners, full of quiet amusement and something gentler beneath.

“That sounds wonderful, I suppose we’re going to be neighbours.” He comments. I beam. 

“We’ve ALWAYS been neighbours. But now we’ll be able to actually visit each other. I don’t know if I’ll be able to come into your home, though. I’ve never tried entering a building like that before. But I-” I freeze mid-sentence as heat floods my cheeks. 

“Sorry, that was rude. Just… Assuming I’d be invited.” I say quietly. Vidar chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Of course you would be. You’ve always been my favourite neighbour.” He teases. My smile returns immediately, though I duck my head a little, trying to hide how flustered I am. Still, there’s one question I can’t leave unasked. 

“Uhm… Once the new buildings are finished, are you planning to… Be their protector again?” I begin cautiously. He hesitates. His eyes wander toward the construction site, watching the faint outlines of what’s to come. 

“I… Suppose so,” he says at last. 

“But it’s not like I did so well the first time.” His tone is self-deprecating, but the sadness beneath it is real. I frown immediately. 

“That’s not what I heard.” I argue. He blinks, startled.

“I heard the library burned, and every single person made it out alive.” I say firmly. 

“No one was seriously hurt except you, and even that’s understandable, given the circumstances. You did amazing.” I compliment. Vidar’s cheeks flush slightly, his eyes darting away. 

“I… Don’t know about amazing.” He mumbles.

“I do.” I cross my arms for emphasis. 

“You protected EVERYONE, and now you’re helping rebuild. That’s more than anyone could ask for.” I point out. He looks a little overwhelmed, and a little endeared, which I take as a victory. So I press on.

“I wanted to ask you something else.” I say, biting my lip. 

“Since you’re not bound to the library anymore… Would you protect my new conservatory and my grove as well as the library?” I ask. His eyes widen, startled.

“I’d really appreciate it.” I continue before he can protest. 

“When the fire happened and when everyone was fighting, I couldn’t do anything. I just watched. If the flames had reached me, I couldn’t have run. If someone attacked me, I couldn’t have fought back. My tree means everything to me, Vidar. And I don’t think anyone else understands that quite the way you do.” I add softly. Vidar looks stricken, his expression softening until I can almost feel the weight of his heart in his silence.

“I… I’d be honoured.” He says finally, voice low and reverent. 

“If you’re really sure.” He seems a little shocked. 

“I am.” I smile, determined. 

“I don’t want to be here alone all the time. Just me and my tree. And I don’t want you to be alone anymore either. We can take care of each other from now on. Okay?” I say cheerfully. He’s quiet for a long moment. Then, with that same hesitant care I’ve come to expect from him, he reaches out and wraps one arm around my shoulders in a half hug. It’s awkward and sweet and perfect.

“I think I’d really like that.” He murmurs. A warm, peaceful feeling settles in my chest, contentment, and something gentler, something that feels suspiciously like hope. We spend the rest of the afternoon talking, about the new library, the plans, the rooms that will exist again, the books that will return home. The sunlight slowly shifts to gold, filtering through the leaves, painting everything warm. When the day starts to fade, Vidar rises to leave. He hesitates, glancing down at me with that small, unsure smile.

“You know, today is the first time we’ve had a real conversation.” He comments. I nod. It’s the first time we’ve ever been alone together too.  

“Yeah, it’s been nice.” I answer.

“Would you mind if I came back tomorrow?” He asks. 

“I could… Bring a book for us to read. It’s… Peaceful here. With you.” He says shyly. I grin up at him, heart fluttering. 

“I’d love that.” I answer honestly. Things are changing, fast, and in ways that scare me. But not all change is bad. Because now, neither of us has to be alone anymore.