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ubertastic-writing · 5 years

Text

warm hands feeling for mine

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Awakening

Pairing: LuciSev

Summary: Two weeks. Lucina has two weeks until she's officially crowned heir to the halidom; two weeks to convince Severa to come back to Ylisstol with her.

Outside Links: AO3

Notes: i heard tumblr is being wonky about embedded links these days, so i went back and forth about including the link here, but the formatting is better on ao3 so what are you going to do

warning: this is a long one

14.

“Stand a little straighter, please, Your Highness.”

Lucina complies immediately, wincing slightly when an errant pin glances her skin on its way through the fabric. There’s a stiffness in her back, no doubt from having to stand at attention for what must be over an hour in these heavy coming-of-age robes.

“One final touch,” the tailor tells her, before draping a weighty cape over her shoulders. “There. What do you think?”

Lucina turns toward the mirror hesitantly, the sheer weight of her outfit making her unsteady. The clothes are extravagant, surely befitting a princess coming of age in just over two weeks. Waves of blue silk trimmed in gold, under a cloak of rich red velvet and speckled fur. It reminds her of something her grandfather would have worn.

She hates it.

“Well?” the tailor presses, clearly eager for an answer. Lucina glances from the beady man to where Frederick had been standing off to the side, going through an itinerary of things to do before next week’s ceremony, to find him eyeing her patiently.

“It’s…” she starts, unsure of how to describe her distaste for the ensemble in a way that won’t require Aunt Emmeryn to patch up a spoiled relationship with the tailor.

Naga must be smiling on her, though, because as she wracks her brain, the door pushes open, distracting all three people in the room.

“This is a private fitting,” Frederick says, before the door has fully opened, but the interrupter continues anyway.

It’s Severa. Naga must truly be on Lucina’s side today.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir,” Severa says, waving a crumpled piece of parchment, “but I was sent with an urgent missive from the pegasus commanders.”

Frederick looks conflicted at letting his earlier no-entry policy go but waves her in nonetheless. “If you can spare the time, I’ll prepare a response to send back. It will just be a moment.”

Nodding stiffly, Severa crosses her arms and stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, apparently avoiding the eyes of both Lucina and the tailor.

“Severa,” Lucina calls, “what do you think?” Severa glances sidelong at her, and Lucina does as much of a spin as she can in the heavy clothes. “For the ceremony at the end of the month.”

The motion is subtle, but Severa turns to get a better look, eyes darting up and down Lucina’s outfit.

“It’s not really your style,” she says without missing a beat, turning back almost dismissively. “Especially that cape. It looks like you robbed the envoy from Rosanne.”

Lucina presses a fist, rescued from the layers and layers of fabric, against her lips to stifle her chuckle, but the tailor find the comments far less humorous.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” he cuts in, rounding on Severa. “These are the traditional clothes for Ylissean royals coming of age! The cape in particular has a long history in the royal family! Who are you to be passing judgment?”

“Look, bud,” Severa starts, bristling, “Her Highness asked for an opinion, and I gave it--”

Lucina cuts her off with a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Severa. I did ask for her opinion,” she tells the tailor, “and I appreciate the work you’ve done for the upcoming ceremony, but I find I agree with her.”

The tailor looks incredulous and indignant, so Lucina continues before he can protest. “The cape is beautiful, truly, but I believe I might be too restrained to fully appreciate it. Perhaps something simpler might be more suitable.”

“That may be a fair point,” the tailor concedes, considerably less put out than he had been moments before. “Maybe I didn’t see it before, that such extravagant clothing will only distract from Your Highness’s natural beauty.”

That’s not quite what Lucina was going for, but as long as he’s not upset. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” the tailor says, bowing deeply. “Between the two of us, however, I might recommend that you find company that is also… more suitable.”

Severa flushes an angry red, and Lucina opens her mouth to respond, but before she has a chance to say anything, Frederick reappears.

“Thank you for waiting, Severa. Here is my answer,” he tells her, handing her a small piece of parchment, folded and sealed with wax.

“Thank you, sir,” she says, taking the note from her father and bowing at the waist. She casts one last look around the room, catching Lucina’s eye briefly, before spinning on her heel and leaving.

For the rest of the fitting, Lucina finds herself watching the door, despite herself.

13.

There’s an odd, otherworldly stillness about the castle chapel. It seems to disturb most people Lucina knows, her own sister included, so Lucina goes there whenever she needs to be alone.

And she has never felt the desire to be alone more so than following the meeting with Frederick, Phila, and half the court about the approaching ceremony. She knows these meetings are important; there’s a good deal of ritual to the ceremony that she must memorise and practice until it becomes second nature, but also a fair amount of politics, and it is as much her duty as it is Frederick and Phila’s to ensure each of the noble families is attended to.

Which unfortunately means having young lords and ladies sent to the capitol by their parents vying for her attention every moment she’s available. Here in the chapel, however, Lucina can find sanctuary, brief as it may be, in the silence pervading the small hall.

Kneeling before the altar at the front of the room, Lucina bows her head and begins to recite a prayer under her breath. In less than two weeks, during the day-long coming-of-age ceremony, Lucina will do this very same thing with her family and a select group of clergy and nobles watching her. She tries not to think of how the scenario will play out -- the head priest dripping holy water over her head and circling her bowed body with a thurible as incense pours out -- and instead focuses on the words she has for Naga now.

The sound of wood scraping against stone as the door at the back of the chapel open easily breaks Lucina out of her thoughts, both pious and not. Jerking back to her feet, she spins towards the intrusion and is surprised to find Severa staring shocked back at her.

“My apologies, Your Highness,” Severa says in lieu of a greeting, the words echoing in the mostly empty room, “I didn’t realize you were in here.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Severa,” Lucina responds, self-consciously straightening her clothes as though she’s been caught in some mischievous act instead of praying. “The chapel is open to anyone in the castle. Are you here to perform your daily rites?”

Severa nods stiffly. “The altar in the cadet dorms gets so crowded after everyone’s finished the morning duties. And with the ceremony coming up, they don’t leave after their done, like reciting their rites more than once is going to prepare them any more for the ceremony.”

“Why don’t more of them come here, then?”

“They probably like having the commanders see how devoted they are,” Severa says with a dismissive shrug. “One of the cadets started a rumor that the commanders might not take everyone who passes the initiation, so they’re all trying to brown-nose themselves a spot. And they all think I’m guaranteed to get in, even if I don’t deserve it, so they wouldn’t listen to me even if I tried to correct them.

“It’s just easier to come here and avoid all of that,” Severa finishes.

“Get away from it all, if only for a moment,” Lucina agrees. She motions towards the altar and gets back into the position she was in before Severa interrupted her, a few inches to the side this time. “By all means, don’t let me get in your way.”

Severa hesitantly kneels besides her and clasps her hands. “This feels strange with someone else around. I’m used to doing this by myself,” she mutters, just loud enough for Lucina beside her to hear.

“You, too?” Lucina asks, making Severa look vaguely like she was caught doing something wrong. “I often come to this chapel to get some time alone and say my prayers. How come we’ve never run into each other here before?”

“I usually come late in the evening, when I think no one will be around,” Severa admits.

“What do you normally do after your morning duties, then?”

Severa drops her clasped hands and sits back on her heels, picking at the hem of her tunic. “The pegasus commanders like to use me as a go-between to my parents. I spend most of my time delivering missives.”

“That certainly explains yesterday. Speaking of which, I haven’t had the chance to thank you for that yet,” Lucina says.

“For what?” Severa asks, eyeing Lucina cautiously.

“I was in quite the bind when you interrupted the fitting. Your appearance was nothing short of a miracle.”

Severa looks skeptical. “Was it now?”

“Truly,” Lucina tells her. “You’ve always had a knack for helping me through difficult situations.”

“From where I was standing, you were the one getting the both of us out of that situation,” Severa shoots back.

Lucina laughs, the sound reverberating against the chapel’s stone walls. “On the contrary, I was struggling to let the tailor know how I felt about the clothes he had put me in until you arrived. It’s because of moments like those that I find myself wishing you were with me during my daily tasks. Perhaps then I would have the strength to speak my mind more often.”

Severa gives her an unsteady look, as though she’s unsure whether or not she should be taking Lucina seriously.

“Of course, I’m sure you’re already busy enough with your own schedule to be accompanying me to boring meetings,” Lucina backtracks.

“I’m not sure if I could handle more court types, if yesterday was any indication,” Severa says, though she looks relieved by Lucina’s backpedaling.

Lucina finds it strangely disappointing.

“Nonsense,” Lucina says instead, choosing to keep the stirring in her chest to herself. “Dealing with nobles is mostly about knowing the rules of engagement and sticking to it. It’s like following set of instructions.”

“I don’t recall getting any instructions for you.”

The laugh that bubbles out of Lucina seems to shock them both, the sound reverberating against the chapel’s walls. “Would you like me to provide some?” Lucina asks. “Although, I never realized I was that difficult to figure out.”

Severa smiles wryly, shaking her head. “With all do respect, Your Highness, you’re the biggest mystery I’ve ever met.”

Lucina isn’t quite sure what to say to that, but even if she did, she wouldn’t have had a chance to. Not a second later, the chapel doors open, breaking whatever spell had come over the two of them and reminding them of the world beyond the altar.

“Your Highness, there you are. You’re going to be late to your meeting with Lord Belfrey,” Frederick says in lieu of a greeting. And then he seems to notice his daughter’s presence with Lucina. “Ah, Severa, the pegasus commanders were wondering where you had gotten to. Report back at once.”

Severa stands immediately. “Of course, sir,” she says, all of the earlier mirth gone from her voice. “Your Highness.”

For the second time in two days, Lucina watches Severa go, unable to stop her.

12.

As the days drag closer to the ceremony, Lucina finds sleep more and more elusive. After tossing and turning in her bed for what feels like hours, she shucks her covers and rolls to her feet.

A walk, she decides, slipping from her room, should dispel the restless energy that seems to have settled over her recently.

The castle has a haunting quality at night, her steps echoing off the stone floors and reverberating down the hallways, but the feeling of isolation in such a typically crowded space is as calming as it is unsettling. With the ceremony drawing ever closer, it seems Lucina is only free from the court’s ever-watchful eye at moments like this, in the dead of night.

Having long since memorized the guards’ routes from years of sneaking around as child, it’s easy for Lucina to slip out onto the grounds without encountering anyone. It might be her mother’s influence, but she finds herself drawn to the stables as soon as she’s free of the inner walls, as though spending some time with the animals might clear her mind. She’s about halfway there when she hears a noise coming from the pegasus cadets’ dorm a few yards away.

Making a beeline for the building, she spots a figure slip out one of the windows and run around the building towards the cadet stables. Lucina follows at a distance, slipping around the corner and peeking into the stables once she reaches the entrance.

“Severa?”

Severa jumps when she hears her name, sword clattering on the ground from where she had been strapping it to her saddle. “Naga, Your Highness,” Severa says, her shoulders dropping at the sight of Lucina, “you’ll scare a girl to death.”

“My apologies, Severa, I just…” Lucina looks from the saddled pegasus, bags already packed, to the sword still laying on the ground where it fell. “What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” Severa asks, picking up her sword and reattaching it to the saddle. “I’m getting out of here.”

“Why? The pegasus knight commencement is in just over a week.”

“Exactly,” Severa says, scoffing. “Now’s my last chance to leave before I’m stuck here forever.”

“I don’t understand. You don’t want to be a knight?”

Severa pauses. “I guess I can see why you would think I did. I mean, both of my parents are so dedicated to the royal family, and everyone expected me to be just the same. I’ve never had a choice, so I’ve never had a chance to think about what I’ve actually wanted to do with my life.”

Lucina watches as Severa hands fidget with her saddle straps, waiting for her to continue. “But now… There’s no going back now, and the more I think about being trapped in this for the rest of my life, the less I can take it. This is my last chance to get out.”

A strained silence overtakes the stable, as Severa busies herself with her pegasus and Lucina watches unsure of what to say.

“You’re not going to tell on me, are you?” Severa asks after a few moments, looking at Lucina for the first time since Lucina walked in on her.

“No, no, of course not,” Lucina tells her. “I’m really in no position to stop you. If it’s alright with you, however, I do have one request.”

Severa eyes her warily but drops her hands from her things and turns to fully face Lucina all the same. “Fine. Even if I’m not a pegasus knight, you’re still my princess. What is it?”

Lucina’s sure she surprises them both with what she says next: “Take me with you.”

11.

By the time dawn breaks over the horizon, Lucina can feel tiredness pull at her eyelids. Slumping against Severa seated on the pegasus in front of her, her eyes slip closed as she gives into the steady rhythm of the pegasus’s gait and Severa’s warmth in front of her.

“Sorry, Your Highness,” Severa says, and Lucina jerks up, suddenly awake. “I don’t plan on riding through the night much, but we needed to get as much distance between us and the capitol as possible.”

“No, it’s alright, and you’ve nothing to apologize for,” Lucina tells her. “I’ve been finding it difficult to get to sleep recently, especially as my coming-of-age draws closer.”

“You, too, huh?” Severa asks, shooting Lucina a glance over her shoulder. “You’re welcome to get some sleep now, if you’re able to, Your Highness--”

“Lucina,” Lucina cuts in, blushing slightly, when Severa sends her a confused look. “We’ll be caught quite easily if you call me ‘Your Highness’. You should start using my name.”

Severa is quiet for a few moments as she considers it. “You’re right,” she says with a sigh. “It’s going to feel weird since respect for the royal family has been beat into me since before I could walk, but…” She pauses again, face pulled into a frown. “In fact, we might want to use a nickname. Naga knows everyone in the halidom knows what the crown princess’s name is, and I’m not particularly interested in getting arrested for kidnapping you. How does ‘Luci’ sound to you?”

Hearing the nickname pass through Severa’s lips makes Lucina feel hot under her ears, but she finds she likes the feeling. “That works with me,” she says, settling against Severa’s back again. “Are you sure this is alright?”

“I’m dragging you to Naga knows where in the middle of the night,” Severa says, huffing slightly. “The least I can do is let you get some sleep.”

That doesn’t quite address the question Lucina was asking, and she suspects Severa knows that as well, but the vibrations gently rumbling through Severa’s back as she spoke are just what Lucina needed to lull into a sleepy haze too thick to argue.

When she wakes, it’s to the morning sun beating down on them from overhead.

“How long was I asleep?” she asks, voice scratchy and slurring.

Severa throws her a glance over her shoulder. “A couple hours. It’s a good thing you’re up. There’s a town ahead I want to stop in, and I would have hated to be the one to wake you.”

Lucina chuckles a little at that, stretching her back. “Is there anything I should know about this town before we arrive?”

“Not really. It’s far enough away from Ylisstol that people have no reason to suspect that we came from there,” Severa says, “and it’s one of the first major market towns outside of the capitol, so they should get enough strange traffic that we’ll blend right in.”

“Any chance of people recognizing us?”

“Not me,” Severa answers with a scoff. “But you, maybe. We can try to do something about your hair, and if that’s not good enough, I’ve got a cloak in one of my saddlebags that you can put on.”

The town appears on the horizon just as they finish planning their arrival, so Severa steers her pegasus off the road and behind a nearby tree. Hoping off, she offers a hand to help Lucina down.

“Right,” Severa says once they’ve got both their feet on the ground. “Any preferences?”

“I’ll leave it to you,” Lucina tells her.

Severa directs Lucina to sit on the ground and positions herself behind. “Just a moment,” she says, parting Lucina’s hair into two large sections.

Lucina closes her eyes, letting the feeling of Severa’s hands working her hair wash over her. It’s been a long time since Lucina’s had someone do her hair so gently; she used to revel in it as a child, when Aunt Lissa would help her brush her hair before bed or place her in her lap and give her pigtails not unlike the ones Aunt Lissa herself wore in her youth.

But as a growing heir-apparent, it soon became obvious that appearances meant as much as skill or talent in court, and Lucina found herself at the mercy of royal hair stylists pulling and prodding at her hair like a wild animal to be tamed.

“Alright, all finished,” Severa says, after a few moments of bliss. Lucina blinks her eyes open, a bit disappointed it ended so soon. “I don’t have a mirror, believe it or not, so I can’t show you the finished product. But I’d be surprised if anyone recognizes you like this.”

Lucina runs a tentative hand across her hair, worried about ruining Severa’s work, only to find it end just below her ears. “How…?”

“I just tucked the longer bits up underneath the shorter bits. It’s easier than it sounds,” Severa tells her with a shrug.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Severa.” Lucina says, fingers playing with the short strands hiding the rest of her hair. “This is amazing work.”

Severa flushes slightly and looks away, heading back to the pegasus. “Well, shall we?”

Town is a only a short ride from where they stopped, and Severa wastes no time directing them where the traffic seems the thickest. More than a few bystanders gawk at the pegasus as it passes by, but none stop them or even seem to pay attention to the pegasus’s riders.

They find an inn shortly after arriving at the town center, Severa steering her pegasus up to the hitching post in front.

“Wait here,” she tells Lucina, dropping down from the saddle. “I’m going to see if there’s a stable before we stop here for real.”

Lucina dismounts as well once Severa’s slipped through the inn doors, choosing to stretch her legs and give the pegasus some relief from its load in case they have to search for another inn. Tightly wrapping a hand in the reins -- just in case -- she takes a moment to survey the town.

It must be late morning by now, given how many people are milling about on the streets, making the most of their day at the market just a few meters further down the road. Lucina watches the crowds with interest, her free hand idly running through the pegasus’s mane.

In the rare moments she ventured out into Ylisstol in her childhood, she had always been surrounded by a retinue of guards, and the townspeople would stare as their princess went by. Now, with Severa’s cloak covering her royal garb and her hair unrecognizable, the odd bystander only pays her any mind because of the pure white mount beside her.

It’s a refreshing change.

“We’re in luck,” Severa’s voice breaks her out of her reverie, and Lucina turns to find her approaching with stout man following. “There’s a stable out back.”

The man -- who Lucina can only assume is the innkeeper -- leads them through an alley to the stable. There’s a large lock on the front door, and the innkeeper pulls a large ring of keys from his belt to unlock it.

“Not too often we get a pegasus around these parts,” he says, flicking through key after key. “You two from the capitol?”

“Originally,” Severa answers for both of them, “but our journey hasn’t taken us there in quite awhile.”

The innkeeper grunts, a noise of understanding at being away from home. “Well, you should try to head back sometime next week. The princess is coming of age, and by all accounts, she’s the prettiest royal we’ve had in generations. People around here can’t wait for the royal procession.”

Severa shoots Lucina an unreadable look. “Is that so? Maybe we’ll have to make a detour, then,” she says, gaze fixed on Lucina as though waiting for her reaction.

“I’m sure the princess can’t be that pretty,” Lucina says in protest, challenging Severa to react first. “In fact, I’d venture a guess and say she’s not too different from you or me.”

“No, I’m sure the princess is beautiful -- beautiful enough to be picked out of a crowd in commoner’s clothes,” the innkeeper says, finally fitting the correct key in the lock. Behind him, Severa shoots Lucina a smirk, and Lucina isn’t sure if she should consider that her victory or not. “Royals have this air about them, don’t they? Since they were blessed by Naga and all.”

With the stable door finally open, Lucina and Severa lead the pegasus into the first open stall and undress the mount. Once they’re finished, they meet the innkeeper outside and wait for him to relock the door.

“You know, I’ve met the princess before,” Severa says after a moment, and Lucina nearly groans at the topic being revived. The innkeeper, however, gives her a look of extreme interest, as though no other topic could possibly be more important at the moment. “She’s prettier than her father, that’s for sure. More poised, too.”

The innkeeper lets out a hearty laugh. “Consider yourself lucky then, girl. Most of us would die for just a glimpse of the royal family. To meet the princess must be the highest honor common folk like us could ask for.”

“It sure is something,” Severa agrees, catching Lucina’s eye with an indecipherable look.

Finished with the stables, Lucina and Severa circle back to the inn and find themselves a small table near the back, away from anyone who might look at them too hard. Once they’ve put in their orders with the innkeep, Severa pulls a map from her bags.

“The plan is to continue heading north from here,” she says tracing the route with a finger. “Regna Ferox has a lot of mercenary work available. Anyone passable with a sword can live comfortably, and those with skill have opportunities unlike anything you’d find in Ylisse.”

Lucina studies the map, taking note of the various towns and trading outposts marked on the way. “How long is the trip?”

“If we rode the whole way, ten days,” Severa explains. “We could get there in half that time if we flew, but I want to make sure we’re a good distance from the capitol before we take to the skies.”

“That’s just the right amount of time,” Lucina muses under her breath.

“For what?”

“Until the ceremony. A week and a half.”

Severa gives Lucina a hard stare, as if she’s expecting Lucina to buckle, but Lucina just matches it.

“By that time, we’ll be out of the country, and even if they wanted to keep looking for us, their hands would be tied,” Severa says, breaking the impromptu staring contest to fold up the map and place it back in her pack.

“You’ve really planned this all out, haven’t you?”

Scoffing and looking out towards the rest of the tavern, Severa sits back in her chair and crosses her arms. “Surely you don’t think the only thing I’ve done these past few weeks is pray and play messenger.”

“No, I’m just,” Lucina stops herself and studies the girl across from her. “I don’t know how I missed how dissatisfied you were at the castle. It feels like I’ve failed you.”

Severa’s gaze jerks back to Lucina sharply. “Why are you blaming yourself? It’s my problem, and you have your own stuff to deal with.”

“Maybe,” Lucina agrees, smiling wryly, “but I consider you a dear friend, and as heir to the throne, it is at least partially my responsibility to make sure my people are happy. I hate to think that you felt so suffocated that you decided your only option was to flee the country.”

“Stop being so damn noble,” Severa says, though if Lucina’s not imagining things, she hears a hint of affection in Severa’s voice. “You can’t be personally responsible for every person in the country’s happiness.”

“No? Well I’ll just settle for yours, then, if that’s possible.”

Severa flushes a bright red and looks away, huffing. “Nice try, Luci. But I’m not that easy to please.”

Lucina hums, considering it. “I guess I’ll have to keep trying then.”

Severa shakes her head, muttering something about Lucina being “too much” under her breath. Lucina’s denied a chance to respond, however, when the innkeep returns with their food right then. They take their meal in silence, something Lucina perhaps should not be surprised by given how little time it took to plan the rest of their journey. Severa in particularly seems intent to finish her meal as quickly as possible and get back out on the road.

Once they’re done, Severa pulls out enough gold to cover the food plus a little extra for the time in the stable. “I’ll grab Luna and meet you outside, alright? We’re still pretty close to the capitol, so I don’t want to linger here.”

The innkeep seems much less eager to chat now that his business is full of patrons for the lunch hour, but he gives them both a jovial smile as he walks Severa and her pegasus back around the front of the building, making them promise one last time not to miss the coming-of-age ceremony.

Severa takes a few moments to make sure the saddle is probably fitted and the bags properly secured before mounting, offering a hand to Lucina as soon as she’s up. “It should be awhile before we reach the next town, but we should get there before sundown. You ready?”

Lucina wraps her arms around Severa’s waist, settling into the saddle. “After you.”

10.

It’s about midday when they come across a stream running along the road, and Severa pulls her pegasus off the road to take a short break near it.

It’s an idyllic scene if Lucina’s ever seen one, the mid afternoon light reflecting off the water and the shade from the nearby trees bringing out the green of grass on the stream’s banks. For a moment, Lucina regrets that they’ll have to move from this spot when it’s so peaceful here.

“Not a bad spot for a break, huh?” Severa says, apparently having caught Lucina staring.

“Yes, it’s beautiful here.”

“Ylisse is a beautiful country,” Severa agrees, sitting down under the shade from one of the trees. “We’ve lived here seventeen years. It’s a pity we’re only getting the chance to see it like this now.”

Lucina joins Severa on the ground, watching as Luna dips her snout into the stream to take a drink. “Better late than never, I suppose. And perhaps we’ll have plenty of chances in the future.”

“You think so?” Severa asks. She looks almost wistful at the suggestion, as though it’s something she’s only let herself consider in the most fleeting daydreams.

“We’re almost adults,” Lucina says. “Running away aside, they couldn’t keep us cooped up in the castle for the rest of our lives.”

Severa stares out across the water, gaze hard though she doesn’t appear to be looking at anything in particular. “Maybe not,” she says, sounding less than sure of her own response, “but even then, how many moments like this would we get?”

Lucina closes her eyes and lets a cool, spring breeze blow over her. Opening her eyes, she glances at Severa next to her, red hair standing out against the green and brown around them, and the feeling that this moment is something she wouldn’t trade for anything in the world wells up in her, strong and sudden.

“Not enough,” she says, when she finally finds the voice to speak.

Severa turns her head just slightly and catches her eye, and seems to understand exactly what she means. But, she pushes off the ground to stand regardless, brushing herself off.

“It’s about time we got back on the road. We’ve lingered here long enough.”

Lucina stands too, sad to find the moment over. “It’s a pity we couldn’t stay here longer,” she says.

Severa looks out over the water, hesitating before shaking her head. “If only,” she says with a sigh, and Lucina knows she’s talking about more than just their break by the stream, but what else, she can’t be sure.

But then Severa’s turning to her and sending her a small grin. “Shall we?”

Lucina just returns the grin with a tight smile of her own. “Of course. Ready when you are.”

The market in the next town they stop in is bustling and lively, and Lucina and Severa blend in perfectly with the activity despite the novelty of their mount. Severa leads them through the streets, one hand tightly wrapped in Luna’s reigns, the other clutching one of Lucina’s.

Lucina follows along, keeping Severa’s cloak tight around her clothes and trying not to think too hard about the feeling of Severa’s hand in hers.

It doesn’t take long for them to find the stall they were looking for: a grain seller to replenish the quickly depleting supply of oats Severa had brought for Luna. As they approach the stall, Severa drops Lucina’s hand to dig around her belt, pulling a few gold coins free of their pouch and placing them into a different pouch on her hip.

“Here,” she says, pressing the coin bag into Lucina’s chest. “Go through some of the fruit sellers and see if you can grab something for tomorrow morning. I’ll deal with things here.”

Lucina nods her agreement, clutching the coin bag tightly and walking off in the direction of the food stalls. On the way, however, a woman calls out to her from behind her collection of wares -- various trinkets and small bits of jewelry.

“You there!” she says, grinning broadly as her bright red hair glints in the midafternoon sun. “Your mount is beautiful. Are you a pegasus knight?”

“Thank you,” Lucina replies, eyeing the woman cautiously. “My companion is.”

The merchant nods vigorously, as though she’s piecing everything together. “You sound like you’re from the capitol,” she tells her. “That would certainly explain how two beautiful strangers such as yourselves ended up in our little town.”

Lucina isn’t sure how to respond to such a comment, so she just smiles politely.

“You two are awfully far from the capitol, though,” the merchant continues. “Why, I’d say you’re nearly halfway to Ferox!”

“We’re making a voyage north,” Lucina says, idly picking up some of her wares and inspecting them. In Ylisstol, a merchant like this would primarily cater to visitors -- foreign envoys or lords whose fiefs fall far from the capitol. Lucina wonders what kind of patronage this selection of wares would garner in a town of this size.

“A good time for it. The north is just starting to melt,” the merchant says before turning her head down the row of stalls. “Your companion,” she starts, drawing Lucina to follow her gaze and find Severa staring back at her with a hard look, “watches you with the most curious eyes. She seems quite protective of you.”

For some reason, Lucina feels hot under Severa’s watchful eye. “Yes, well you could say she’s been looking after me since we were young.”

“Childhood friends, eh?” the merchant says knowingly, though Lucina isn’t sure what there is to know. “That’s an unshakeable bond. You must have been overjoyed when she got into the pegasus knights.”

“Of course,” Lucina says automatically, before pausing, worrying the item in her hand as she thinks about Severa’s reaction to the impending pegasus knight commencement. “No, not quite,” she reconsiders. “I’m happy as long as she is. But I can’t help but worry that I’m losing her.”

That night she found Severa in the stable still weighs heavily in her mind, and an uneasiness rises in her chest thinking about it. “Perhaps it’s selfish of me.”

“It’s only selfish if she doesn’t want the same thing,” the merchant muses, and Lucina briefly wonders why she’s even talking about such matters with a stranger.

“I suppose that’s true,” Lucina agrees, setting the item down. “Thank you for your time, and I’m sorry to trouble you with such nonsense.”

The merchant waves dismissively. “No trouble at all. But tell me this, have you told her any of these things?”

“I’ll tell her if the time is right,” Lucina says. “Though if I’m being honest, I doubt these are things she would care to hear.”

“Who wouldn’t want to hear about how much someone cares for them?” the merchant asks, and Lucina feels warm at how thoroughly she was seen through -- by a stranger, no less.

“Do you talk to all your potential customers like this?” Lucina asks, scanning over the woman’s wares one last time. She spots a silver necklace with a small feather pendant wrought in metal, and despite herself, she picks it up.

“Only the ones who look particularly troubled,” the merchant tells her. “A gift for your companion?”

“Perhaps. If she’ll take it,” Lucina says, more to herself than the merchant.

“You have to try giving it to her to know that. Come, I’ll sell it to you half-off.”

Lucina smiles wryly. “I didn’t even know the starting price.”

“Lovelorn, beautiful, and quick,” the merchant chuckles. “That girl of yours should have jumped into your arms ages ago.”

“It’s not like that.”

“No?” the merchant asks. “So the two of you aren’t on a romantic trip north, unaccompanied despite your youth, right before the pegasus knight induction ceremony?”

“That’s-” Lucina starts, frowning. She sighs, gathering her thoughts. “I can see how you might draw that conclusion, but I can assure our relationship is strictly platonic.”

“For now,” the merchant says, winking. “Two gold for the necklace.”

Lucina runs her thumb over the pendant. It really is an intricate bit of metalwork -- something that would go for much more in the capitol despite its size. “There’s too much between us,” she says, pulling the two gold pieces out of her own coin pouch rather than the one Severa handed to her. “I’m afraid our relationship isn’t merely a question of our own wants or desires. Though even then, I can’t say for sure what she would want from me.”

The merchant accepts the gold and takes the necklace, placing into a small cloth bag for protection. “You’d be willing to give it -- whatever it is she wants -- wouldn’t you?” she asks, handing the purchase back to Lucina.

“I think you know the answer to that already,” Lucina says, placing the bag into one of the pockets on her belt. “Thank you for the conversation. It was… insightful.”

“You should tell her how you feel,” the merchant says, just as Lucina turns to leave. “You seem convinced a relationship between you two wouldn’t work out, but how will you know until you try? Surely there are some strings you can pull as the princess.”

Lucina looks around sharply for any indication that someone else heard that last comment, but the market goers continue to move around her, oblivious.

“How?”

“I travel a bit myself. My sisters and I run stores all across the country,” the merchant says with a lazy grin. “I happened to be in Ylisstol once when the royal family made an appearance in town. Exciting stuff.”

Lucina frowns, looking down the row of stalls to where Severa is intensely haggling with the grain seller.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” the merchant tells her. “Though by my calculation, you should be coming of age very soon. Is it alright that you’re not in the capitol right now?”

“This is something I have to do,” Lucina says, unable to stop herself from glancing back at Severa. “Even if I fail, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hadn’t tried.”

The merchant follows her gaze and smiles knowingly. “I won’t pretend to understand the lives of those at court,” she says, “but I am a bit familiar with love. Some things are worth fighting for.”

“She is,” Lucina agrees.

Lucina leaves the stall with one last wish of luck from the merchant, mind swimming from the conversation, and makes her way to the nearest fruit stand. There Severa catches up with her, right as Lucina pays.

“You spent a lot of time at that one stall,” Severa mentions as they load Luna’s saddlebags with their purchases. “Pushy seller?”

“No,” Lucina says, the necklace in her belt pocket burning a hole in her hip. “I had a lovely conversation with her, actually.”

Severa gives her a skeptical look. “Really. And she didn’t try to sell you anything by the end of it?”

Lucina hums instead of answering directly. “I think those two matters are separate.”

“Uh huh. Well next time someone bothers you, you should let me know.”

“Of course,” Lucina says, waiting for Severa to mount Luna before she takes Severa’s offered hand up.

As they set off, Lucina curls into Severa’s back, her arms around Severa’s waist, and thinks about her conversation in the market. Things are surely not as simple as the merchant made it seem, but, with Severa’s warmth so close, Lucina can almost make herself believe it could be.

“Hopefully we won’t have to rough it at night much longer after this, Your Highness,” Severa says, freeing her bed roll from the saddlebags.

“What did we say?” Lucina lightly scolds as she fills Luna’s oatbag with the grain they had bought in the market yesterday.

Severa mutters a curse under her breath. “Luci,” she corrects, forcefully. “Although there’s no one here to hear us, anyway.”

“It’s not about anyone hearing us,” Lucina explains, fitting the oatbag over Luna’s head and giving the pegasus a few affection pats once she’s done. “It’s about getting in the habit of it, so it won’t happen when there is someone around to hear us.”

Severa grumbles something Lucina can’t quite catch, but sighs and says, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” all the same.

“You used to have no problem calling me by my name,” Lucina says, joining Severa at the bed roll and helping her untie the tight knots holding it together.

“That isn’t fair. We were children then.”

“Well,” Lucina says, finally freeing a particularly stiff knot, “what changed?”

“You started doing princess-y things, and I became a pegasus cadet,” Severa says, gathering the free ropes to place in the saddlebags for safe keeping. “If either of my parents or any of the pegasus commanders caught me calling you anything besides your title, there would have been hell to pay.”

“Perhaps in public,” Lucina shoots back, grabbing one end of the bed roll and flicking her wrists to unroll it. “But we’ve had plenty of moments in private where the only one to offend by calling me by name is me, and I can assure you, I will never be offended by such a thing.”

Severa pauses, still bent over the saddlebags they had relieved from Luna moments ago. “Have we ever truly had a private moment before leaving the castle?” she asks, voice stiff as the line of her back. “It seemed to me any time we spent together was open to interruption by anyone who thought themselves more deserving of our time than each other. And that was nearly everyone in the castle.”

“I’ll be of age soon,” Lucina says. “Others won’t always get to decide for me how my time should be spent.”

“I wish I could believe that,” Severa mutters, just loud enough to be heard. She lets out a mirthless laugh, standing from the saddlebags and returning to the bed roll. “This conversation is going nowhere. We should just go to sleep.”

Lucina lays down, accepting the thin blanket Severa tosses over both of them, but she can’t shake the feeling that she needs to press the issue. Once she feels Severa settle in, back against hers, she speaks up: “Why did you want to leave Ylisstol?”

“I thought I told you already.”

“You told me that you didn’t choose the pegasus cadet life for yourself, and you couldn’t stand the thought of being trapped in that,” Lucina says, “but you did not explain why that is.”

A silence settles over them, thick and tense, and for a brief moment, Lucina regrets pressing the question.

But after a particularly pregnant pause Severa heaves a deep sigh. “I don’t,” she starts, cutting herself off and sighing again. She settles on, “My life was decided for me the moment I was born. With my parents being who they are, it’s no question that I would become a knight and serve the royal family just as they had.

“But just like their legacy is inescapable, their legacy is inescapable,” Severa explains, almost hissing the words. “Everyone expected me to born some kind of prodigy, and when that didn’t work out, they assumed I would get everywhere in life riding on my parents’ coattails. My own merits -- my own desires -- have never meant anything in Ylisstol. How can anyone live like that?”

Lucina finds herself momentarily speechless, taken aback by the full force of Severa’s frustration. When she finally gains the ability to speak again, the only words that work themselves out of her mouth are a stunned, “I have.”

Severa scoffs. “You’re different.”

“How so?”

“Because you’re perfect,” Severa says, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I bet you’ve never disappointed anyone in your entire life.”

Except for you, apparently, Lucina thinks, the words getting caught in her throat. Instead, she shakes her head and resists the urge to turn and face Severa. “I wish you had told me that you felt this way sooner. Perhaps-”

“‘Perhaps’, what? My parents would never have budged on their vision for my future,” Severa says, voice suddenly lifeless. “Not even the future exalt could change that.”

“Perhaps I could have been there for you,” Lucina finishes. “Someone to talk to. Someone to trust with your problems.”

Severa is quiet for a long moment at that -- so long Lucina worries that Severa has decided to ignore her entirely. But then, hesitantly, she mutters, “It’s not my place to saddle you with my problems.”

“I’m the one who decides that,” Lucina says, giving in and turning onto her other side, only to be greeted with Severa’s back, stiff as it was before. “Forget about rank and status for a moment, Severa. No matter what your parents, or my parents, or the people at court may have told you, we have known each other our whole lives, and I want to be a friend to you anytime you need one.”

“Why do you care?” Severa asks, still refusing to face Lucina. “Your sister isn’t half as kind to me, and I grew up with her, too.”

Lucina finds herself unable to give a voice to the feeling in her chest. “Do I need a reason?” she says instead.

Severa flops onto her back, the motion knocking a sigh out of her. “No. But maybe if I got one, I’d be able to understand you, finally.”

Lucina can’t stop the laugh that escapes her, the sound easing both the pressure in her chest and tension between her and Severa. “I’m still not sure what’s so hard to understand about me.”

“For starters, you could spend your time worrying about anyone, and yet you waste it worrying about your father’s retainer’s screw-up daughter.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so convinced you’re a failure,” Lucina says, laying a hand over one of Severa’s. “And even if you were, I don’t see how that should affect at all how much I care for you.”

“How do you not see it?” Severa scoffs. “Even if you don’t compare me to my parents, who excel at everything they do, I can hardly sharpen a blade without breaking the damn thing.”

“You’re looking at this the wrong way,” Lucina says, gripping the hand under hers. “Severa, your talents are not your parents’, nor should they be. You are your own person, with your own skills, your own merits, your own light. I only wish you could see that yourself.”

Severa sighs and looks at Lucina. “I wish I could see what you see.”

“If you give me a chance,” Lucina says, smiling when Severa intertwines their fingers, “perhaps I’ll be able to show you.”

Something changes in their relationship after that night. Something Lucina can’t name, but something tangible and real all the same. She can feel it in the way that Severa’s gaze lingers on her longer than it used to, the way she snuggles closer when the night turns chill.

The feeling in her chest -- the one that Lucina refused to give voice to the night before -- grows. It grows and spreads into her hands, fingers itching to grasp Severa’s hips and pull her close. At times it feels as though she can barely contain it, her desire to be closer to Severa ready to burst at every passing glance, every time they brush against each other.

The sun is low in the sky when they dismount one last time for the day, untacking Luna and preparing for the night. They work in the stilted silence that followed them most of the day, as though breaking it would unleash something neither girl is ready to handle.

When they finally settle into the bed roll, Severa lies facing the forest, same as always. Lucina feels her edge back until their backs are flush together and tries to get her heart under control.

“Luci,” Severa finally says, haltingly, as though she wishes she could take the words back as soon as their out of her mouth, “you told me to ignore rank and status, right?”

“When we’re together, you shouldn’t worry about such things.” Lucina’s mouth feels uncomfortably dry.

Lucina can hear Severa shift behind her, and the next thing she knows, Severa is nudging her onto her back. “In that case, this should be fine,” Severa says, face clearly bright red even in the low light.

And then Severa leans down, slowly, and for the brief moment before their lips meet, Lucina’s mind goes totally blank.

The kiss itself is beyond anything Lucina could have ever imagined -- and she’s imagined it more than she lets herself admit. Severa’s lips are soft, almost tentative, as they move against Lucina’s, the languidness of the motion compelling Lucina to raise a hand to cup Severa’s cheek.

Severa, as though spurred by that, pushes in further. The kiss grows rougher as the seconds pass, Severa clearly having gotten over any hesitation she may have had about kissing the princess.

And then their teeth clack against each other, the shock of it jolting both of them away from each other.

“I’m sorry,” Severa says, sitting up with a hand over her mouth.

“No, don’t apologize,” Lucina insists, pushing up onto a single arm. “I liked it, except for that last part. But the rest was… nice.”

“‘Nice’?”

“Yes. If you wouldn’t be opposed,” Lucina says, reaching out with the arm not supporting her weight and grabbing a handful of Severa’s tunic, “I would like to continue.”

Severa leans over Lucina’s mostly prone form and licks her lips. “Continue, huh?” she asks, sounding as confident as she ever has. “And just what does that mean to you, Your Highness?”

Lucina chuckles at the term -- in this situation it sounds more like a term of endearment than a reference to her birth. “I think I would rather like for you to kiss me again,” she says, tugging on the material bunched in her fist. “We can decide what to do after, after.”

“I can manage that,” Severa says, sliding a hand around Lucina’s collar and behind her neck. “What happens on the road, stays on the road, right?”

Something about those words, or the way Severa says them, causes Lucina’s stomach to churn uncomfortably, but she just lays back, taking Severa with her. Severa, responding to Lucina’s unspoken cue, follows through with the motion and pushes their lips together.

They can talk about it in the morning, Lucina resolves, as she tries to push the discomfort away. She should at least be able to enjoy this for as long as it lasts.

When her mind doesn’t clear immediately, she pulls Severa closer and pushes her tongue into her mouth, willing this moment to last forever.

The feeling of Severa’s fingers through Lucina’s hair is as amazing as it was the first time. Lucina’s eyes flutter closed -- an automatic reaction from each time Severa’s fingers lightly scratch at her scalp, however unintentional that motion may be.

They’re stopped in a forest just a few paces from the edge of a town, readying Lucina’s disguise after she had been recognized a few days ago.

(“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Severa had scolded her when Lucina offhandedly mentioned the incident before entering the next settlement they had come across.

“She assured me she wouldn’t tell anyone,” Lucina answered. “And she seemed quite earnest about that promise.”

“That’s not the point,” Severa said, rubbing her brow with a hand. “If she recognized you, anyone could have! It’s a wonder we don’t have a royal guard breathing down our neck right this instance.”

“Come now,” Lucina reasoned, “a royal guard would travel much slower than two women on a single pegasus.”

Severa just groaned in response and motioned for them to dismount.)

“Have I ever told you how jealous I am of your hair?” Severa asks, hands threading through Lucina’s hair for a few last sweeps before she divides it into three sections. “It’s such a beautiful color and so thick.”

“You think so? The royal stylists usually preferred to view my hair as an untamed beast.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Severa scoffs. “Those hags in court are probably just jealous and taking it out on you the only way they can get away with.”

Lucina chuckles despite herself. “You shouldn’t say that.”

“Or what? If I could go the rest of my life without dealing with another courtier, I could die happy,” Severa says, plaiting Lucina’s hair with ease.

“You don’t think you’ll have to deal with any in Ferox?”

“I certainly hope not,” Severa says. “Besides, if we were to attract the attention of a Khan, we’d likely have more status than any random court type vying for favor.”

“About that,” Lucina starts, but Severa gives her half-braided hair a tug, cutting her off.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Severa says, continuing with her work as though the interruption never happened. “Why did you ask to come with me, that night in the stable?”

Lucina sucks in an unsteady breath -- she knew the question was going to come sooner or later. “For the same reason you wanted to leave,” she answers after a moment. “The pressure of everything… it’s too much sometimes. It can be overwhelming.”

Severa hums a bit as she considers that, the sound soothing in a way Lucina couldn’t have predicted, especially with her working Lucina’s hair. “Hearing you say that,” she says, undoing Lucina’s braid to start again, “it’s reassuring.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, well, you always seem so determined, so unshakeable. To hear that you struggle with the same things as me… It’s vindicating.”

“I wonder how you’ll take what I have to say next, then,” Lucina says, finding it hard to fully focus with Severa’s hands drawing lengths through her hair again.

Severa’s hands skip in their motion. “Oh?”

“I had another motive when I asked to join you. Perhaps even more selfish than the first,” Lucina explains. Severa doesn’t say anything, but her hands move rougher through Lucina’s hair, snagging at a few tangles Lucina didn’t know she had. The feeling keeps Lucina in the moment.

“I’m not sure if you remember, but there were a few times when we had met up in those days before we left the castle. Each time, our duties had brought us together, but they also called us apart.” Lucina trains her eye on the way the light plays through the trees, refusing to let Severa’s fingers in her hair distract her. “At one point, I remember watching you walk away, wanting to call out to you but knowing I could not, because our responsibilities demanded that we do what is expected of us.

“But when I found you in the stables that night, I realized something. My duties will always be waiting for me, but you might not be. I couldn’t bear that thought.”

Severa stills her hands. A breeze cuts through the trees, shifting the shadows Lucina had been staring so intently at just minutes ago, but Lucina finds it difficult to focus on the scenery in front of her when she’s waiting on Severa’s response.

“You know, when you asked to come with me, that night in the stable, I knew you weren’t going to go all the way to Ferox with me,” Severa says, her exhale sounding more like sigh than a simple breath.

“Why did you let me come with you, then?”

“Maybe,” Severa starts, dropping her hands from Lucina’s hair to her shoulders, “maybe I wanted you to give me a reason to go back. I decided a while ago that I don’t need to live a life devoted to the royal family. But I wouldn’t mind a life devoted to you.”

“My father wants me to restart the Shepherds,” Lucina says, suddenly, causing Severa grip her shoulders.

“What?”

“We have an excess of royals right now, and our country’s at peace. My father believes he learned more about Ylisse and being a leader from leading the Shepherds than he ever did from dealing with nobles,” Lucina explains. “He thinks it would be valuable for me to spend a few years traveling the country, doing good for our citizens.”

Severa scoffs, releasing Lucina’s shoulder and returning her hair. “I never took your father to be such a wise man.”

“Perhaps you should spend more time with my father, then,” Lucina says, as lightly as possible, knowing Severa’s comment was not intended to sound nearly as harsh as it did.

“I hardly spend any time with my own father. It’d be weird to spend time with yours.”

Lucina laughs, unable to stop it. “Your father used to be a Shepherd as well, you know.”

“He told me a few stories growing up,” Severa says, beginning to plait Lucina’s hair again. “He’s always acted like it was the best time of his life, waiting on your father hand and foot without any court meddling.”

“Is that how your father made it sound?” Lucina asks. “My father’s stories focused on the action of it. Or the results. Fighting brigands to help villagers and the like.”

“I can see how our fathers’ priorities differ,” Severa says dryly, drawing another laugh from Lucina.

“You know, when Father told me he wanted me to restart the Shepherds, I always imagined you would be there with me,” Lucina confesses. “In fact, never once did I imagine myself in the Shepherds without you, even as a child hearing my father’s stories.”

Severa pauses in her work briefly, one hand tightly pinching Lucina’s braided hair, to dig through the nearest saddlebag for a ribbon. “Is this your way of asking me to join your newly re-formed Shepherds?” she asks, quickly tying off Lucina’s hair.

“I don’t want to force you, by any means,” Lucina says, finally getting the chance to turn and face Severa, “but I do want you there. With me.”

Severa turns her head and crosses her arms, clearly unsure what to do with her hands now that she’s done with Lucina’s hair. “I don’t know why you would. After this fiasco, the pegasus knights will have nothing to do with me, and you should have real knights in your ranks.”

“Severa,” Lucina says, urging Severa to look back at her. When she doesn’t, Lucina cups her cheek with a hand, and nudges her head. “Severa, you don’t need to be a knight. You have been my most constant companion throughout my life, and I don’t want to think about taking such a large step without you.”

Severa’s gaze drops down, still unable to look Lucina in the eye. “Is this just because we grew up together? You don’t owe me anything for something we couldn’t control.”

Lucina presses her forehead against Severa’s, praying Severa will understand her. “I owe you a lot, actually,” she says. “Whether or not we had any control over the circumstances of our meeting, you have done more for me than I can speak to. Besides, I’d dare say that wanting to keep you at my side is a more a selfish wish of mine than any kind of reward for you.”

“You’re crazy,” Severa says, pulling away to give Lucina an incredulous look, and Lucina can’t help but smile at the frankness of the statement. “Half of Ylisse would kill to be in my position right now and the other half would die for it. And you think it’s selfish to want someone by your side?”

A frown overtakes Lucina’s lips before she can stop it -- that wasn’t quite she was going for. “So you accept then?” she asks instead of pressing the other issue, hand dropping to Severa's shoulder.

“I can hardly say ‘no’, can I?” Severa says, typical confidence back in full force. Lucina finds it worrisome to see it back so quickly; it feels as though Severa is trying to hide something under that bravado. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Lucina agrees, frown still touching her lips. She suddenly wishes for the vulnerability of last night, Severa unsure of herself as she pinned Lucina to the ground. This Severa feels untouchable, walls even Lucina cannot break firmly erected around her.

Severa stands, and Lucina’s arm drops limply back to her side. “We’d better get you back in time for the ceremony, then, shouldn’t we?”

Lucina watches as Severa begins readying Luna -- she’s never felt further away.

“Yes,” Lucina hears herself say. “I suppose we should.”

Lucina wonders if she’s imagining it, but the return trip feels heavier than the trip out. She and Severa chat less during their hours of riding, for one, and -- though Lucina is convinced she is the only one thinking about it -- the night they spent kissing haunts nearly all of her thoughts, waking and sleeping.

At times that night feels like a fever dream, conjured by the monotony of the ride. But other times, it feels like the only real thing that occurred during their whole journey, and Lucina swears she can still feel Severa’s lips on hers days later.

It’s easy to regret it. However much Lucina may have longed for that moment, she would have preferred to continue the relationship she had had with Severa before -- friendly, if somewhat stilted at times as they tried to navigate the space between their ranks and their close upbringing -- than deal with the fallout. A Severa at arm’s length is certainly better than a Severa leagues away.

But just as much, she can’t help but hold that night close to her heart. Despite everything that has happened since, it was still a wish fulfilled (however much it was also a wish unspoken), and she refuses to let go of that.

Sometimes, during the long stretches where neither girl speaks a word to each other, Lucina wonders how Severa feels about it. She was, after all, the one to initiate it. But given her reticence on the subject, the way she is careful to keep both her touch and gaze from lingering on Lucina any longer than necessary, Lucina concludes that she would rather forget that night ever happened.

Perhaps that is what hurts most of all.

At times, when she knows Severa isn’t looking, Lucina pulls the necklace she bought days ago from the pocket she has it hidden in. With their relationship as splintered as it is, the necklace has become as much a symbol of what could have been as a trinket collected on their trip away from the capitol.

A million possibilities, Lucina thinks, rubbing the pendant idly.

A million possibilities, and she doesn’t know how to make any of them real.

“We’re cutting it a little close, but if we fly today and tomorrow, we should make it back on time,” Severa says, both of them hunched over her map in the early morning light. “Have you ever flown before?”

“I haven’t,” Lucina admits, trying not to thinking too much into Severa’s sudden willingness to be within arm’s length of her again. It won’t do for her to get her hopes up before they have a real chance to talk. “Mother made sure Kjelle and I had plenty of experience on horses, but she and father were hesitant about letting us ride with one of the pegasus knights.”

“You’ll love it,” Severa tells her, with such confidence Lucina can’t help but believe her. “The crispness of the air, the wind in your hair… Flying is unlike anything else in the world.”

Lucina smiles at how clearly enamored Severa is with the act, happy to see her unguarded for the first time in days. “With a recommendation like that,” she says, unable to keep her mirth from seeping into her voice, “I’m looking forward to it.”

Severa pushes off the ground, moving to start clearing their campsite. “I may have had no choice in becoming a pegasus knight, but getting to fly almost makes up for it. Almost.”

“About that, Severa,” Lucina says, fingers finding the feather pendant unconsciously. In the days since they’d turned back, she’d wondered nonstop if she should bother bringing up the conversation that prompted the decision, but the memory of how quickly and easily Severa shut herself away near the end of it stopped her. Now, however, with the threat of them returning to the castle, to a place where Severa has ample reason and room to continuing doing just that, Lucina can’t stand the thought of leaving things as they are. “How are you feeling?”

“‘How am I feeling?’ That’s a pretty broad question, Luci.”

Lucina smiles at the nickname despite herself. “About returning to Ylisstol. I feel when discussed it, we never had the chance to talk about your thoughts about it.”

Severa scoffs, as though the thought itself is ridiculous. “What’s it matter? You need to be back by the ceremony, so we’re getting you back by the ceremony.”

“Of course it matters, Severa. I thought I made this clear earlier, but I care about you. If you’re uneasy or unsure of what we’re doing, I want to know.”

“That’s,” Severa cuts herself off, shaking her head. “It’s a nice sentiment, Luci, but let’s not delude ourselves. So what if I still don’t really want to go back? You’re the princess, and I’m… I’m just a cadet whose own parents didn’t notice how miserable she was.”

“Severa,” Lucina starts, but Severa continues as though she said nothing.

“I’m glad you care enough to try to make me feel like my opinion matters, Luci, I really do. But,” Severa sighs, the sound bone-weary, “I’m not supposed to be a person who matters. I learned that a long time ago, and you’ll figure it out eventually, too.”

Those words, coupled with Severa’s defeated tone, send a wave of indignation crashing up through Lucina’s chest. “Severa, don’t you dare say that about yourself,” she says, clenching her hands to expel the restless energy that’s come over her. “I know the court acts like the royal family trumps all, but how did you ever come to the idea that you don’t matter?”

Severa sends her a pitying look, though Lucina can’t decide who it’s meant for. “You know how I started my cadet training earlier than most? I was the youngest there by years, and for most of it, I thought it was because my parents had assumed I would display a talent for it like my mother.” She looks away, towards Luna. “And then I overheard my parents talking about me.

“It turns out they wanted me in the cadets sooner because they were worried that I was raised too closely to you and your sister. They thought I might think myself on your level, or worse, you might think us equals. I don’t know if they intended me to hear them,” Severa says, “but I was so terrified by what they could have seen in me to think that kind of thing was necessary.”

Lucina swallows thickly, her throat suddenly dry. “And what do you think that could have been?”

Severa’s eyes dart over to Lucina’s before flicking away again, the motion a plea and an answer all in one. Lucina thinks of Severa’s studious denials that any tender moments between them on the road could point to anything more, her less-than-subtle sidestepping when Lucina began to edge on her declaring her own feelings.

Lucina wants to hit herself for not realizing it sooner.

“If I may be so frank,” Lucina says, after a moment of stewing in a silence so thick it chokes them both, “I don’t much care what our parents think of how we treat each other.”

Severa looks at her sharply, and Lucina, as if emboldened by Severa’s gaze on her, takes a step in her direction.

“I don’t like playing up my status, but if your parents make a fuss,” Lucina says, taking another step, “I will gladly remind them they have no authority over me.” Another step. “And if my own parents think they have any says in the matter,” another, “I will kindly inform them that as the future exalt,” and another, “such decisions will ultimately be out of their control.”

Standing face to face with Severa, the closest they’ve been in days, Lucina can hardly resist the urge to kiss the other girl. Instead, she takes her hand, intertwining their fingers.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting into,” Severa tells her, voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m prepared to face it, regardless,” Lucina shoots back.

Severa drops her head to Lucina’s shoulder. “I really don’t get you,” she says, though she hardly sounds upset about it.

“You don’t have to,” Lucina replies, lightly, enjoying the contact while it lasts. “You just have to understand that I care about you, Severa. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to prove that.”

Laughing dryly, Severa lifts her head, staring back at Lucina as though in challenge. “Fine. At the very least, I can wait and see what you plan to do.”

Unable to keep a smile from tugging on her lips, Lucina steps towards Luna, pulling Severa with her. “I won’t ask for anything more. Shall we go, then?”

Severa just shakes her head. “After you, Your Highness.”

Ylisstol is barely in view when a pair of pegasus knights flag them down. Severa raises a single hand to show their lack of resistance and lands immediately, only for the knights to quickly surround them, lances raised.

“Who goes there- Your Highness!” one of the knights exclaims, nearly dropping her weapon. “What are you doing here? Where have you been?”

“Severa, is that you?” the other knight cuts in. “Why-”

Severa dismounts, and the lances instantly raise again, pointed directly at her. “Well, I can’t say I didn’t expect this at least a little bit,” she says, lifting her hands in surrender.

“Stop, all of you,” Lucina commands, dropping from Luna as well. “By my order, you will let Severa return to the castle and to the cadet dorms.”

The knights look hesitantly between themselves, clearly unsure if they should listen. “Your Highness,” one of them starts, “we’re under orders from Commander Phila, Sir Frederick, your father, and Her Royal Majesty the Exalt to apprehend whoever took you from the castle.”

“And what if I were to tell you that Severa was under my orders to take me?” Lucina shoots back.

The knights hesitantly lower their lances. “What do you mean, Your Highness?”

“It was my idea to leave the castle,” Lucina lies, staring the knights down and daring them to challenge her. “I needed to see my country before the ceremony, to be reminded why my duty matters. I ordered Severa to take me; she didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

A moment passes in silence, the pegasus knights looking uneasily at each other. “I suppose we could take you to your father,” the first says. “You can explain the situation to him, and he can decide if she’s,” she motions to Severa with her lance, “allowed back in the castle.”

“I’ll accept those terms,” Lucina says. “May I have a moment with Severa before we go?”

At the knights’ synchronized nod, Lucina turns to Severa to find her giving her an unreadable look. “I’m surprised you covered for me,” she says, voice low.

Lucina shakes her head. “What are you talking about? I refuse to let you receive punishment for going along with my whims. I’ll explain everything to my father and Aunt Emmeryn, and I’m sure they will clear everything up.”

Severa’s eyes dart over Lucina face, as though searching for some sign of guile, before she shrugs, turning away. “My own father signed my arrest warrant. Surely you can’t expect to just smooth talk everything better.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Lucina vows, grasping one of Severa’s hands in her own. “If nothing else, I promise this.”

“Alright, that’s enough time you two,” the second knight calls, breaking them out of the moment.

Sensing hesitation in the stiffness of Severa’s body, the way Severa’s gaze stays firmly on the ground, Lucina tugs on her arm, pulling her close and pressing their lips together, in full view of their knightly audience. The kiss lasts a few seconds, long enough for Severa to recover from the impulsiveness of the act and relax into it, and Lucina finds breaking away is one of the hardest things she’s ever done.

“I’ll be waiting for you at the castle,” she says, loud enough that she’s sure the pegasus knights could hear her as well. “No matter what happens, I’ll be waiting for you.”

Severa nods wordlessly, flushed a bright red and breathing a little heavier than before.

Feeling immensely satisfied with that reaction, Lucina can hardly fight the grin off her face as one of the knights directs her pegasus closer, allowing Lucina to climb on the back. With one last fleeting look at Severa and Luna, they take off, the castle a quickly approaching dot in the distance.

Frederick is already in the castle yard by the time they arrive, looking as frazzled as Lucina’s ever seen him. When he spots her, head poking around the shoulder of her knight escort, she swears he looks vaguely like he wants to cry.

“Your Highness! Thank Naga you’re back!”

Lucina dismount with ease, the days spent with Luna giving her ample practice. “Frederick, it’s good to see you, too. I hope my absence hasn’t caused too much of a stir.”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle, Your Highness,” Frederick tells her. “But if I may ask, where did you go?”

Lucina opens her mouth to tell him, but the pegasus knight cuts in. “We found her on the back of your daughter’s pegasus, headed back towards the capitol.”

“Severa? You must be joking.”

“Frederick, if you can take me to my father, I can explain everything,” Lucina cuts in.

“Explain how my daughter is implicated in your apparent kidnapping?” Frederick asks, his typically stoic features shaken. “I will take you to your father, but I’m not sure what you can say that will make this better.”

The walk through the castle is stiff, the activity from the ceremony preparations only adding to the tension in the air. More than a few of the castle staff openly gawk as Lucina walks by, clearly shocked by the sudden reappearance of their princess.

They find her father in the chapel, overseeing some final touches before the ceremony tomorrow. Lucina doesn’t know how to feel that everyone seemed so confident that she would turn up in time and the ceremony could continue as planned.

“My Lord,” Frederick announces, drawing the attention of her father and the handful of priests with him. “Your daughter is here.”

Her father nearly drops the parchment in his hands. “Lucina!” he says, rushing over to her. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I’m perfectly healthy, Father,” Lucina tells him. “I want to talk to you about my departure from the castle.” She glances around the room at the priests, all trying very hard to look like they’re not listening. “In private.”

Chrom claps his hands. “If you could give us a moment,” he says, voiced raised and directed to the room. His eyes dart to Frederick.

“He can stay.”

“Alright, everyone out. We’ll let you know when we’re ready. Now, Lucina,” Chrom turns to her, “what happened to you? Half the castle believes you’ve been kidnapped, and the other half thinks you’ve been killed.”

Lucina frowns. “I left a note.”

“‘Don’t look for me, I’m safe’ is not a note that instills confidence.”

“I didn’t have very much time,” Lucina protests, weakly.

“It doesn’t much matter now,” Chrom says, shaking his head. “Tell us everything.”

Sparing one last glance at Frederick -- there are some details shy of everything she can leave out, at least until Severa is ready to talk to her own parents -- Lucina launches into the same explanation she gave the pegasus knights earlier. Her father listens with an unreadable expression, face flat and brows pulled together.

“I wish I could say that impulsive streak came solely from your mother,” Chrom says once she finished. He rubs his chin, clearly thinking his next sentence through. “I can’t fault you for wanting to be free of this place before the ceremony; I remember wanting to run away myself before my coming-of-age. And to be honest, I saw it in you, that desire to get out and see Ylisse for yourself. That’s why I want you to restart the Shepherds.”

“So you understand, then?”

Chrom nods, smiling slightly. “There’s a lot of work you’ll have to make up with Frederick before the ceremony, but I understand. Now we might have had some issues if you had missed the ceremony itself, but I think we can wave this off as one last hurrah before adulthood.”

“And Severa?” Lucina asks, more hesitantly.

“I’ll have to speak with the pegasus commanders,” Chrom tells her. “Regardless of whether or not you ordered her to take you, she still had responsibilities here at the castle, and they might not be so forgiving of her abandoning those for your sake.”

“But she won’t be punished?”

“For leaving, I can’t say, but not for taking you,” Chrom confirms. “Neither Emmeryn nor I thought your disappearance was as serious as the castle gossips were saying anyway, but too many of the lords and ladies visiting were in a frenzy over the idea that you were kidnapped.”

“I apologize for causing everyone so much distress.”

Chrom just laughs, placing a comforting hand on Lucina’s shoulder. “It’s no matter. Between you and me, those lords and ladies could use a little more excitement in their lives anyway. Now, come, there’s plenty of work we both need to do before the ceremony.”

Frederick motions for them to leave the chapel, Lucina thanking her father as they step out. As he leads her back through the castle, no fewer people gawk at her presence than in the walk in, and Lucina finds it more amusing with the added insight her father provided. Did they really think she was murdered?

“We should pay a visit to each of the noble families staying in the castle and let them know you’ve returned,” Frederick says, breaking Lucina from her thoughts. “But first, we should decide who your personal guard will be after the ceremony. As you know, it’s customary for women in the royal family to select a member of the pegasus knights, and I have a list of candidates your father and I think would serve you well.”

“Actually,” Lucina cuts in, “I have someone in mind already.”

“Oh? Well, I’m glad to hear you weren’t totally neglecting your duties while you were out galavanting across the country with my daughter.”

Lucina smiles wryly -- Frederick may not be as pleased with choice as she was hoping then -- but she spies Severa across the courtyard, talking with the pegasus commanders (no doubt getting dressed down for leaving the castle), and, her smile growing, she find she does not care what anyone else thinks.

When Lucina wakes the next morning, she finds absent all the nervousness that had plagued her during her previous days in the castle leading up to the ceremony. Her mind is clear, as though her path is laid out before her and all she needs to do is follow the steps until the end.

A part of her -- one that she refused to entertain in the past but she gives into more and more recently -- hopes to find Severa waiting for her when she gets there.

She takes her time dressing, savoring the last moments she’ll have alone before the big event starts. The robes the tailor selected for her are thankfully much more subdued than those from the fitting despite her not being around approve the final design -- she had been of half the mind to worry that she would be put in something particularly ostentatious as punishment for leaving so close to the ceremony.

On a whim, she takes the necklace she had bought on the road from its new spot on her bedside table, and strings it around her own neck, slipping it beneath her robes to hide it from view. A private reminder to give her strength.

A knock on her door reminds her that her day has only just started. Stepping out of the room, Lucina finds Cordelia waiting for her, her armor shining as though she polished it specially for this occasion.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” Cordelia says, greeting Lucina with a tight-lipped smile. “It looks like today will be the last day Frederick or I will be responsible for your wellbeing.”

“I’m sure Frederick will still worry about me, even once I have a personal guard of my own,” Lucina says, motioning for them to head for the chapel.

Cordelia laughs, the corners of her lips loosening. “He very much wanted to be the one to escort you this morning,” she confesses as they walk, “but he has about thirty other duties to attend to today. Mine has always been simply to make sure the royal family is safe.”

“Shouldn’t you be attending to Aunt Lissa, then?” Lucina asks. “Not that I object to your escort, of course.”

“No, it’s a fair question. Her Highness has been helping Her Majesty with some final preparations, so Commander Phila agreed to keep an eye on both of them until everyone is in one place.”

Lucina nods, as a silence settles over them. Peeking from the corner of her eye, she studies the older woman, examining as many of her features as she can without outright staring.

Ever since Severa was young, people often compared her appearance to her mother’s -- the color of their hair is undeniable, at least -- but Lucina struggles to find the similarity. There’s a softness to Cordelia’s features, a give where Severa is stone. Though Severa may have inherited the base of her beauty from her mother, Lucina finds she misses that hardness, the extra sharpness Severa lends her features from the way she holds herself alone.

“I will admit I had another reason I wanted to escort you to the chapel this morning,” Cordelia says, suddenly, breaking the silence and snapping Lucina’s gaze to her fully. “I heard about the little escapade you went on with my daughter.”

Lucina resists the urge to groan. “I assure you, whatever sordid rumor you heard has been wildly exaggerated.”

“I see. So you did not kiss my daughter when those pegasus knights found you on the way back to the castle?”

Face feeling as hot as it ever has, Lucina racks her brain for a proper response. “Is that all you heard?”

“I also heard you practically confessed your love to her right then and there. Is that incorrect as well?”

“I,” Lucina starts, swallowing thickly, “never said the kiss did not happen. Though I would argue what I said did not amount to a confession of love.”

Cordelia stops in her tracks, forcing Lucina to do the same. “Am I to assume you’re just playing with her, then?”

“Of course not!” Lucina protests immediately. “I care for Severa deeply, I can promise you that, Cordelia. But…”

“But?” Cordelia prompts, sharply.

“I’m working on it,” Lucina finishes, the response sounding far better in her head than out loud. “I need to know that if she reciprocates, it’s because she honestly feels the same as I do, not because she feels obligated to return my feelings because of my status.”

Cordelia frowns, the expression etching deep lines into her face, and for the first time, Lucina can see the resemblance with her daughter. “Has Severa ever expressed to you the desire to be in a relationship with you?”

Lucina thinks back to her conversation with Severa just a few days ago. The confession that her parents wanted to limit their contact likely for this exact reason. Briefly, she wonders if this is Cordelia’s worst fear come true.

“Until recently, I don’t believe Severa has allowed herself to consider it a possibility.”

“So, no?”

“No,” Lucina admits, after a moment, though it hurts to acknowledge. Especially in these circumstances. “Not in so many words.”

Cordelia sighs, swinging an arm out to signal that they should continue on their way towards the chapel. “I sympathize with you,” she tells her, once they’ve resumed their walk. “Did you know that I was in love with your father when I was a teenager?”

“I’ve heard rumors, but I always dismissed them,” Lucina says, slowly, unsure of how Cordelia will react.

“Thank you for thinking so highly of me, but I’m afraid those rumors are true,” Cordelia says, shaking her head wryly. “It’s been a long time since then, but I do remember what it’s like, being young and enamored with someone unattainable. When I married Frederick, the one thing I wanted, above all else, was to keep my child from making the same mistakes I did.”

Oh, Lucina thinks. That explains things. Out loud, she says, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Your Highness. Never apologize for loving someone,” Cordelia says, and Lucina wonders if she ever wished to hear those words when she was Lucina’s age. “Though I would be lying if I said I didn’t wish the circumstances were a bit different.”

“I understand that our families have a complicated history when it comes to such things,” Lucina says, haltingly, “but I can assure you, when it comes to Severa, her happiness is my first priority.”

Cordelia sighs again, the act so similar to one of Severa’s own, Lucina feels a wave of comfort from hearing it. “I’m glad to hear that, Your Highness. Truly. And I believe that you mean that.”

A moment passes, Cordelia clearly unsure how to proceed. “But I can’t help but worry for her,” she settles on. “Severa doesn’t like to talk about it, but she struggles with how others see her. She always has. It’s a familiar concern,” Cordelia admits, shaking her head.

“I’ve noticed that about her as well,” Lucina says, reminded of her conversation with Severa that night on the road. It feels like a lifetime ago now. “Though I must say it’s understandable why it would concern her.”

“Yes, I suppose Frederick and I did not leave her with the easiest legacy to live up to,” Cordelia agrees. “Sometimes I wonder if any child of mine would have been able to live up to the reputation I’ve been given. Severa’s done as well as the gossipers would let her.”

“Even better,” Lucina shoots back. “She has a drive I doubt any detractors would bother to notice.” Lucina can’t stop a fond smile from overtaking her lips. “She won’t go down without a fight, however frustrating that may be sometimes.”

“You really do care for her, don’t you?” Cordelia says, sounding a little taken aback.

“More than I fully feel comfortable admitting to her mother.”

Cordelia gives Lucina a long, appraising look. “Perhaps I misjudged you, Your Highness. Or perhaps I misjudged the situation. I suppose I never imagined you could feel so strongly about my daughter.”

“I can’t imagine feeling anything but,” Lucina replies, simply.

A silence settles over them at that, not quite comfortable but not quite tense either, as though both women are just on the cusp of airing one last comment. With the chapel fast approaching in the distance, Lucina finds she can’t quite leave the conversation where it is.

“Cordelia,” she starts, before pausing to choose her words. “I’m not asking for your approval -- I would continue to love your daughter even if you and Frederick were fiercely opposed to it. But I do hope that you and your husband will be able to accept whatever decision she and I make about our relationship going forward.”

“You Highness, is it alright if I take those words as a declaration from my daughter’s potential suitor,” Cordelia asks, “not the crown princess and future exalt?”

Lucina can’t stop the relieved laugh that breaks free from her throat. “By all means.”

“In that case, you have it. My acceptance and my approval,” Cordelia says. “I want my daughter to be happy, Your Highness, and if you’ve convinced me of anything, it’s that you would do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

Stopping outside the chapel door, Lucina turns to face Cordelia fully. “Thank you this,” she says, reaching a hand out into the space between them. “It was nice to have a chance to speak with you so frankly.”

Cordelia takes Lucina’s hand and gives it a firm shake, a small smile on her lips. “I agree. Our country is lucky to have you.”

Lucina flushes slightly at that bit of praise, dropping Cordelia’s hand to tug on a lock of hair near her ear sheepishly.

“Severa too, if she’s willing to take you,” Cordelia adds, with a grin Lucina didn’t know the serious woman was capable of. “Good luck, Your Highness.”

Unsure of what she can say to follow that up -- if anything at all -- Lucina simply gives Cordelia a nod, and pushes her way into the chapel.

The ceremony itself passes in a blur. Through some odd combination of the countless practice repetitions of her own motions Lucina had gone through in the weeks leading up to it and the sheer surreality of the day finally arriving, Lucina finds it extremely easy to let muscle memory take control.

Despite that, she can hardly ignore the moment Aunt Emmeryn -- every bit Exalt Emmeryn in this moment-- places a weighty circlet on her head, or the thunderous applause from the nobility at the crowning.

And just like that, she is a full-fledged member of the royal family and the officially recognized heir to the halidom.

Though there are plenty of goings-on still planned for the chapel, Lucina is hustled from the hall almost immediately, each step cresting on a wave of adulation from Ylisse’s ruling class. There’s a day-long banquet waiting for her, in theory a chance for the various lords and ladies visiting the capitol to properly meet the princess but in practice more an opportunity for the Ylissean nobility to celebrate the good fortune and prosperity of the current exalt’s reign.

As she and the nobility leave the chapel, she casts a glance around in hope of catching any who might be entering. The knighthood ceremony typically takes place in private -- to represent that the service is not something taken up for the accolades or recognition, but out of duty to the country -- and she wants any indication she can that Severa is with this year’s graduates. But the crowd around her is dense and charged with excitement, so much so she finds herself nearly carried across the yard and to the banquet hall.

The celebration itself is a whirlwind of activity, and for the briefest moment, Lucina regrets the days she did all she could to avoid meeting with the young lords and ladies visiting the castle. As the guest of honor, she’s pulled from noble to noble, barely hearing their words of congratulations or well-wishes before the next spins her around to do the same.

To her luck, however, Aunt Emmeryn arrives after the first hour, and for the first time since Lucina arrived at the banquet hall, she finds the attention off of her. Taking the opportunity, she slips off to the wings for quick break, only to bump into someone with the same idea.

“Hey, watch where you’re-”

“Severa!” Lucina says barely resisting the urge to hug the girl after a few days without seeing her. “You’re here!”

Severa smirks, all lopsided and full of bravado, but there’s an affectionate glint in her eye that takes the edge off. “Where else would I be?”

“I haven’t seen hide nor hair of you since those knights flagged us down and brought me back to the castle,” Lucina says. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing exciting honestly,” Severa answers, sighing and letting the air go out of her. “The pegasus commanders gave me an earful, but once the rumor got around about,” she pauses, suddenly taking interest in one of the far walls, “us being found together, they seemed a lot less keen on actually punishing me.”

There’s lines there Lucina’s can’t quite read through, though she does wonder if it has anything at all to do with the rumors Cordelia mentioned to her earlier. “That simple?”

Severa sends her a look as though she’s scandalized that Lucina would suggest such a thing. “From a bureaucracy standpoint maybe,” she says, scoffing. “The other cadets won’t let me hear the end of it, though. Cynthia especially doesn’t know when to shut her damn trap.”

“I’m sorry?” Though for what, Lucina still isn’t entirely sure.

“Don’t apologize; it’s not your fault people around here can’t mind their own business,” Severa shoots back. “And I never said I had a problem with what you did. I just wish other people wouldn’t make such a big deal about it.”

Lucina nods -- she’ll just have to ask Cynthia for the full context later.

They settle into a comfortable silence after that, both enjoying the moment of reprieve in each other’s company. Lucina knows she’ll have to return to the celebration sooner rather than later, but for now, she simply wants to bask in Severa’s presence after missing it for the past couple of days.

To her surprise, however, Severa breaks the silence after a few beats.

“There’s a rumor going around that Lady Tanith is going to be your personal guard.”

Lucina winces. Now that she thinks about it, Lady Tanith had been at the top of Frederick’s shortlist of candidates, but she had forgotten all about the court’s expectations for her pick as she went off on her own whims. She’ll have to find a way to apologize to Lady Tanith privately for the castle rumor mill getting ahead of itself.

“Do you think that’s who I’ve chosen?” Lucina asks instead of outright denying the rumor.

“She’s the logical choice,” Severa responds. “One of the most talented knights in the service, and dedicated, too. Not much more you could ask for.”

“That’s not what I asked. Who do you think I chose?”

Severa eyes her warily, clearly unsure of this line of questioning. “How should I know? I don’t what goes on in that head of yours, Luci.”

Lucina smiles at the nickname. It fell from Severa’s lips so naturally, she doubts that Severa herself noticed that she used it. “I think you understand me more than you’re willing to admit,” Lucina argues. “We just spent a week and a half together. Who do you think I chose?”

Flushing red from an emotion Lucina can’t quite place, Severa looks away and crosses her arms. “I know what you’re trying to say,” she says after a particularly long pause of glaring at the ground, “but I can’t believe you could have possibly thought that was a good idea.”

“You don’t have to accept,” Lucina says, evenly. As though it wouldn’t crush her for Severa to do so.

“You really you think I could get away with that?”

“Of course,” Lucina tells her. “I haven’t told your father -- or mine -- my selection yet. If you tell me right now that you don’t want to be my personal guard, I’ll give them a different name.”

Severa looks back at her sharply, brow furrowed and frowning. “Am I allowed,” she starts, almost choking on the words, “am I allowed to say yes?”

A warmth blooms in Lucina’s chest. It reminds her of their trip and the road, when the world was just the two of them.

“If you want to,” Lucina says, willing herself not to sound too excited, not to influence Severa’s decision with her own desires. “As long as you want to, of course you can say yes.”

“Then,” Severa says, gaze dropping back to the ground as though suddenly shy, “I would be honored.”

Lucina can’t fight the smile from spreading on her face. “In that case,” she says, pulling the necklace out from beneath her tunic, the feather pendant catching in the light, “I have something to tell you.” She undoes the clasp behind her neck, lets the the necklace bunch into one hand. “Will you listen?”

“Listening is the least I can do, I think,” Severa says, watching the motion of Lucina's hands curiously.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Lucina argues, taking a small step towards Severa. Gauging whether it’s alright. “If anything, I’m in your debt.”

Severa sends Lucina an exasperated -- if somewhat affectionate -- look. “What could you possibly be going on about this time? Last I checked, the only reason we’re standing here like this is because of you.”

“You only got in trouble like that because of me,” Lucina shoots back, taking another step. “And I can’t imagine what it would be like having a knight I hardly know watching over me every waking moment. If you hadn’t agreed to be my guard, I’m not sure what I would have done.”

“You can’t be serious,” Severa says with a shake of her head. “Being a guard for the royal family is the highest honor any knight in the service could ask for. You just offered me the highest promotion I’ll ever get, and I only received my commission an hour ago!”

Finally face to face with Severa, she passes one end of the necklace to her other hand and reaches around Severa’s shoulders, deftly fixing the clasp being Severa’s neck. “A thank-you gift for taking me with you, and for putting up with me all those days on the road,” Lucina explains when Severa looks down at the necklace in confusion.

“You didn’t have to.”

“Perhaps not, but I wanted to,” Lucina says, stepping back. “I may have had an ulterior motive in choosing you to be my personal guard, and I want to give you another chance to back out before we make anything official. But I want you to keep the necklace regardless.”

Severa reaches for the pendant almost immediately, tracing over the grooves in the feather not unlike Lucina did in those last days before they returned to the castle. Lucina watches for a moment as she admires the present, simply happy that she was able to give it to her after all, when a voice cuts through the short silence.

“I love you.”

Lucina feels her brow furrow -- those were the words she had planned, but that wasn’t her voice that said them. “You… what?”

“I love you,” Severa repeats, cheeks pink. “I’ve probably been in love with you longer than I’ve been willing to admit to myself.”

Heart pounding faster than she ever thought possible, Lucina takes Severa’s hands from around the pendant and clutches them in her own. “I’m sorry, my brain isn’t quite catching up,” she says, a smile splitting on her face. “I wouldn't happen to be dreaming right now, would I?”

Severa smiles -- a small one, but it’s there -- and buries her face in the crook of Lucina’s neck. “I didn’t expect you to be such a dork about it.”

Lucina just laughs. She feels so light right now, it’s a wonder she hasn’t started floating. “My apologies, I just,” she pauses, dropping Severa’s hands to wrap her arms around Severa’s frame, “I love you, too.”

Mirroring the motion, Severa squeezes Lucina’s torso, the feeling of it sending Lucina's heart into double-time again. “I wonder how my parents will react,” she muses. “Naga, I don't even how to tell my mother.”

“I wouldn't worry about that,” Luciba replies, sneakily pressing a kiss to the top of Severa's head. “I have on good authority that she would be happy for us.”

Severa laughs at that, and Lucina swears she must be flying.

-30.

“So you’re going to save me a spot on the Shepherds, right?”

Severa pauses in packing Luna’s saddlebags long enough to send Cynthia a dry look over her shoulder.

“I’m just saying, it’s kinda unfair that you managed to find a whole group of people for this a whole year before I’m old enough to be knighted,” Cynthia continues.

“There’s no set number of people who can be in the Shepherds, Cynthia,” Lucina says from her place outside of Luna’s stall, when it becomes obvious Severa is refusing to acknowledge the complaint. “If you still want to join us in a year, we’d be happy to have you.”

“You’d be happy to have her,” Severa cuts in, exiting Luna’s stall and joining Lucina where she’s standing before lacing their fingers instinctively. Lucina can’t help but smile at how easy it comes now. “No need to answer for both of us.”

“Ugh, you two are so… saccharine. Which brings me to reason number two why you should take me!” Cynthia says, forging on. “Someone needs to keep you two in line. Naga knows how most of the nobility feels about you dating your personal guard.”

Lucina laughs lightly. “I don’t see why it should bother them. Aunt Emmeryn’s been involved with Phila for nearly as long as they’ve had a professional relationship.” The statement draws two incredulous gazes to her. “Is something wrong?”

“You’re kidding me,” Severa says, simply. “There’s no way a hardass like Commander Phila would ‘desecrate her position’ -- or whatever fancy words the nobles like to use -- by being in a relationship with the exalt.”

“Did neither of you know?” Lucina asks, sparing a glance at Cynthia’s equally gobsmacked expression.

“Is this why Her Majesty never married?” Cynthia says, quietly as though she’s starting to piece a huge puzzle together. “Lucina, are you going to need Kjelle to have kids for you?”

Severa smacks the back of Cynthia’s head so quickly, Lucina nearly misses it as she blinks. “Mind your own business, will you? It’s a little early to worry about things like that!”

“It’s a valid question!” Cynthia shoots back, holding the spot when Severa’s hand had made contact with her head.

“I think we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Lucina steps in, diplomatically. “For now, Severa and I are just enjoying what we have together.”

Cynthia pulls a face. “Stop being so sickly sweet. How the other Shepherds are gonna deal with you, I have no idea.”

“Weren’t you just begging to be one?” Severa goads. If they were a little younger, Lucina would have expected her to stick out her tongue.

“I’ve been dealing with you my whole life; I have practice,” Cynthia argues, proving Lucina wrong -- right? -- and doing just that.

Severa makes a motion like she’s going to pluck Cynthia’s out stuck tongue from her mouth, so Lucina grabs her other hand, intertwining those fingers as well. “There certainly won’t be a quiet day with both of you as Shepherds, will there?” she asks, though with the way her body is positioned after grabbing Severa’s hand, it feels as though she’s speaking to Severa alone. “I look forward to it.”

“You're too nice,” Severa says dryly, but there’s no bite to it. Just an affectionate curl to her lips.

“If you guys keep this up, I'm leaving,” Cynthia cuts in.

Severa doesn’t spare her a glance as she starts to lean in, “Then leave.”

Lucina thinks she might hear a huffing sound off to her side, but in this moment, she finds nothing matters but Severa’s lips meeting hers. Perhaps Cynthia has a point after all, she thinks, fleetingly, but Severa pulls her in deeper, effectively cutting off all thought.

The other Shepherds will work it out. This -- after all they've been through -- is too good to give up.

#lucisev #Fire Emblem: Awakening #my fic #road trip au

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faylillman · 5 years

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rwby color trailer analysis!

yes, i’m still here! i’m sorry i’ve been inactive--i’m a sophomore in college and this stuff eats up my time more than i’d like. but i do have a treat for you: some short analyses of the four “color” trailers for RWBY! as recommended to me by @hon-b, who i can’t seem to @ for some reason. i need a break from finals work so here’s some good ol’-fashioned critique talk~

so let’s start out with the Red trailer. the opening shots of this one are straight-up beautiful. and the fight scene with the grimm(?) is really nice... surprisingly violent for something i thought was intended for teens. i like how it’s a red riding hood parallel, especially since i don’t think we’ve had enough fairy tale references yet and the lack of them is starting to stick out. watching ruby wield that death-gun-scythe-thing whose name i can’t recall off the top of my head is just fantastic! we’ve even got a red-black-white color scheme going throughout the video to tie everything together. i think the vocals are still kind of wonky though--the singer’s clearly having some trouble hitting the high notes. there’s not a lot of substance here since it’s basically just an extended fight scene, but it seems to exist to get people hype for the show and it does that super well so i’m not gonna fault it for being a little shallow. my rating: tumblr gifset-worthy! also why do the links to the white and black trailers work at the end but not the yellow one wtf

moving onto the White trailer now... so this one opens up with a quote... and even a little bit of dialogue. it’s a little distracting after the complete lack of speech in the red trailer, but i guess it works. weiss’s singing is very pretty--the high notes are spot-on this time, which is awesome!--and the opening visuals are beautiful. not that i want to question the music too hard, but isn’t the “mirror, mirror on the wall” thing referencing the evil queen? at least the instrumentation is gorgeous here, especially the opening piano! i’m not sure if the elaborate fight scene is necessary here, honestly. a fight scene works, yes, but here it’s so dramatic and tense that it detracts from the music. i get that it’s supposed to be a contrast with the opening and ending scenes, but it’s a little too strong of a contrast for me. the fact that the bloodstain on her face disappears at the end is even weirder; like, was that supposed to be an illusion, or something she was thinking about? what i do like, though, is the final visual of weiss curtsying in an empty space--the applause rings hollow. as the lyrics of the song state, she is truly the loneliest of all. i guess this one tried to be a little deeper than the red trailer and it shows. nice work! my rating: beautiful music, needs some work with the transitions. weiss’s weaponry simply isn’t as cool as ruby’s and that makes her fights less interesting to watch for now. the link to the yellow trailer still ain’t workin’

and now for the Black trailer! alright, so we're opening up with another quote. these quotes feel a little too abstract to mean anything at this point, so they might not be necessary, but we'll see. i'm not impressed with the fact that blake doesn't get to do her trailer on her own like ruby and weiss did. also the music is subpar at best, and definitely the worst of the ones i've heard so far. the electronic parts just don't work for me, at all. on the plus-side, the scenery is beautiful, but we spend portions of the trailer inside a train car where we can't even see it! as cool as a fight scene on top of a train is, i don't think the trailer really shows off what can be done with it. i just recently watched the incredibles 2, which has an awesome scene of elastigirl trying to stop a train--coming to this afterward is pretty disappointing, even though i obviously don't expect rwby to be pixar-level. the dialogue here is really hammy and phoned-in, especially with adam. i really don't like the fact that it's here at all, actually. the red trailer didn't need dialogue to tell its story, and it could've been removed in the white trailer too. so why is it here when it absolutely doesn't need to be? also... where was the fairy tale parallel here? did i miss it? my rating: Unnecessary Man Appearance. let blake handle it herself, dammit. or at least don't have him speak because his voice makes me roll my eyes big-time. ALSO THE LINK TO THE YELLOW TRAILER STILL ISN'T THERE

finishing up with the Yellow trailer. yang has a lot to live up to here, being the last of the four to have a trailer. and unfortunately hers follows up on the black trailer's trend of unnecessary dialogue. the voice-acting isn't as bad as the black trailer's, but there's more of it and it doesn't need to be here at ALL. especially with the two girls yang fights--they didn't need to speak, or really do much at all. their appearance takes away from yang's badassery, just a little bit. so does her whole crotch-kick thing, which feels unnecessarily comedic and kinda pointless. it feels as if they tried too hard to make her "cool" and it just comes off as awkward and forced. on the plus-side, the scenery gets WAY better the moment yang steps into the club (walk into the club like waddup i got a big...uh...heart), going back to those nice color schemes from the other trailers. and my favorite thing about this trailer by far is the music--i love the remixes of the other girls' themes and how they build up to a fantastic theme for yang. once again, though, it's hindered by the dialogue. i'm still not a big fan of the voice-acting in this show, and ruby and yang's exchange at the end absolutely doesn't need to be here! honestly i'd rather just see yang look up, meet ruby's gaze, and then give her a kind, knowing smile. that would do a lot more for us than a cheesy bit of talking. i guess i've hardly talked about the fight scene here, so here's how i feel about it: HELL YEAH HELL YEAH HELL YEAH KICK ASS OUT THERE my rating: would be my favorite trailer if it weren't for the dialogue. also, if this is supposed to be a "culmination" trailer and ruby and blake appear briefly, where did weiss go? did i miss her? so many questions!

so there you have it, folks. just some casual musings on the color trailers. no individual screenshots or anything because these are too isolated and there isn't much i can comment on. but overall i liked them and i think (aside from the wonky dialogue and such) they're a great way to get you hyped for the show! now if only the show would follow their example and try to be a little more, uh... intense? maybe?

see ya later! and sorry for the wait! i’ll try to be more active soon, i promise! -russell <3

#russell watches rwby #rwby color trailers

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therealcalicali · 6 years

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REPOST FOR @TEPHI101 (Ivar, I Have Something To Tell You.” Part 3)

SINCE THE APP IS ACTING UP, YET AGAIN, THIS IS A CUT AND PASTE POSTING FOR MY GIRL @tephi101 (she inspired the damn series and can’t even read it thanks to this wonky #$^%!* app!) FIX THE ISSUES TUMBLR!!!!!

Hopefully, anyone whose app is not acting up, should be able to read the fully illustrated post here:

“IVAR I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU.” PART 3

_______________

PART 3 WARNINGS: Character Death, Murder, Threats, Violence, Domestic Violence, Angst, Cheating, Sex and Fluff

_______________

You were carried back home from the docks after hearing Ivar gloat about Harald sailing off to Wessex. It was as if in an instant, all your of strength was drained from your body and you felt sick to your stomach. Truly, you had nearly vomited due to how shocked you were at the revelation. When your legs went weak, you were very fortunate that Halfdan was standing nearby. The strong warrior was the one who caught you in his arms as you fainted. Your husband merely watched as his friend did his best to awaken you, almost mocking your reaction. When your eyes had finally fluttered open, Ivar cocked his head to the side and smiled - as if trying to decide whether to laugh maniacally or to just keep things smug. He chose the latter.

Though a concerned Halfdan asked if they should escort you back home, your husband insisted that it wasn’t necessary. He commanded some thralls to carry you back to the estate whilst he remained with his friends at the docks; watching the sunset over the ocean. Indeed, Ivar was a delighted and content man - looking ever so forward to his sweet, sweet revenge.

_________________

As you laid in bed the following evening, you stared at the ceiling still numb from Ivar’s revelation. Wessex! The way the words rolled of his tongue along with his smug smile made you sick to your stomach again. If you had the ability, you would have done anything to prevent Harald from departing Kattegat, but alas he was long gone. Now that it was evening, Ivar was busy entertaining guests at the lavish feast he had decided to throw at the last minute. In his Great Hall, he was happily celebrating his victory over you and your lover. Truly, you had never seen Ivar this genuinely happy in a long while. The only time he had been in such a good mood was when Bjorn had given him permission to marry you. Ivar’s smile had not left his face since Harald’s ship had departed. And it wasn’t the sinister smile as he typically displayed, he was TRULY happy.

As you lay on top of the furs, you clutched a silver cross that once hung form your neck - given to you by your Grandmother long ago. Ivar had forbid you to wear it any longer so you kept in hidden from him. You were determined to pray as many prayers as you could for sweet Herry. If God felt you were contrite enough and accepted your plea, perhaps he would save him by miracle.

___________

“Elizabeth. Come here a moment.” A tipsy Ivar beckoned to your little sister as she and a friend passed by his throne.

As she went to place her foot on the steps, Ivar motioned with his hand to one of the thralls who was beside him.

“You idiot! Do you not see she is with child?” He hissed as he furrowed his brow. “Help her before I toss you into the streets!”

The thrall apologized profusely as she rushed over to your sister and helped her up the steps that led to Ivar’s seat. As soon as Elizabeth was standing in front of him, Ivar angrily motioned for the thrall to get out of his presence. Turning back to your sister, he quickly softened his expression. She was truly glowing and radiated joy in both her mannerisms and expression. Her dainty hands were gently rested on her round belly as she smiled back at Ivar.

“Are you in need of something brother?” Elizabeth asked in her usual innocent manner.

“There is no need to be so far away. You are free to come closer.” Your husband beckoned as he sipped the last drops from his horn.

As he raised his hand for more mead, your sister obeyed his request. She went and stood directly in front of Ivar - as he brushed off the thrall who had finished pouring him more drink. He looked at Elizabeth and eyed her with fascination. The manner in which her petite frame now boasted heaving breasts, curves and a rounded belly, intrigued him. Indeed, Ivar thought for her to endure all these changes just to bear a child for Jonah, meant she truly loved him. Why could you not behave as she did…..Ivar pondered. Your sister always seemed accommodating to her husband and now, was giving him the ultimate gift.

Ivar stopped drinking his mead and reached out towards Elizabeth’s belly. Realizing that he wanted to feel the baby, she smiled and gently took his hand in hers. When she placed his palm on her stomach, Ivar’s eyes widened in amazement. He caressed her round and firm belly with a smile upon his face.

“It is…..remarkable.” He said as he looked up at her. “So, have they told you much longer you have?”

“Mother and the midwife say it should be five more months or so.” She sighed with a smile. “I must confess that I hope to deliver sooner than later. Being with child can be draining. I am often so tired, that I sleep more than I am awake.” She added with a giggle.

Across the Hall, sitting alone at a corner table, Jonah apprehensively watched as Ivar conversed with his wife. He feared your husband and for good reason. Ivar had the ability of taking even the happiest of occasions and destroying it in an instant with his temper. You brother-in-law hoped that whatever Ivar was speaking to Elizabeth about, would not result in something terrible being said or done. Jonah wasn’t the only person in the Hall eyeing Ivar with disdain. A quiet Hvitserk stole hateful glances at his little brother as well. Ubbe, who was seated next to him, understood why he felt animosity towards the youngest Ragnarsson.

Hvitserk, being a person who often doubted himself, had asked for advice about his desire to be with you. Naturally, Ubbe and Bjorn were the most trustworthy. With the eldest Ragnarsson living very far away, he wound up confessing everything to Ubbe, whom surprisingly, was supportive. He, like anyone else with common sense, could see how horribly Ivar treated you. Despite his constant remarks about ‘loving’ you, his actions seemed to betray his words. Ubbe only asked that Hvitserk be careful but did not discourage him from pursuing you. In fact, he supported the affair since it seemed to be the one thing that would make his brother happy.

Hvitserk sat, angered about Ivar’s plan to have you watch your lover die. Despite feeling jealousy over your lovesick demeanor, Hvitserk didn’t want you to be tormented. He loved you enough to even attempt speaking to Ivar about alternative punishments. Instead of killing the man, he suggested imprisoning him or sending him off to another kingdom as a mine worker. But it all fell on deaf ears. Ivar was hell bent on destroying your lover in the most brutal manner his dark mind could think of.

“Do you know that soon we shall be able to feel it kick?” Elizabeth said as she held Ivar’s hand over her belly. “I am so looking forward to it….though I hope it does not hurt.”

“I do not think you need to worry. It seems that you and Jonah are very blessed of the Gods.” Ivar replied. “While Y/N is….a constant thorn in my side.”

Ivar looked up your sister and smiled though he was envious. How could Jonah, a man with no power, title or great accolades be expecting a child? Whilst he, Ivar the Boneless, leader of the Great Heathen Army and son of Ragnar, be denied? You! He blamed you of course! Yes, indeed! Ivar knew that somehow, you had caused the Gods to not bless your home with a little one due to your affair. You chose to defile his marital bed and now, the consequences of your actions were being felt.

No matter. Ivar knew how make sure that there was atonement. The blood and flesh of Herry Forester would be food for the Viking Gods.

_____________

It took nearly two weeks, but Harald’s boat was finally spotted in the great distance. The news traveled across Kattegat like the wind and soon, you could hear Ivar’s voice as he gave instructions to his servants and men. There was to be an opulent feast to welcome the great Harald Finehair. As you worked on other household tasks, some thralls came to you with orders from Ivar. You were to ensure that a meal fit for a King awaited his friend in addition to assigning thralls to be at his beck and call. Truly, Ivar was sparing no expense in making Harald feel both missed and appreciated.

As you went about giving orders to the thralls and servants, you felt weak. You also developed a massive pain within your head that felt as if your skull was being crushed in a vice.

“I must remain calm and strong. There must be something I can say or do to save Herry.” You thought to yourself.”

Before your husband departed to go to the docks, he made certain to stop in your sewing room where he found you praying. Surprised that you still held out some faith in the midst of everything that was occurring, he laughed. Ivar thought you were insane for being so determined to beg your God for your lover’s life.

“Wife, despite your prayers, I do believe I am the one your so-called God has listened to.” He said with wide, pleased eyes. “He and my own Gods have blessed me. We are leaving to the docks but shall be home shortly for Harald’s welcoming. And please make certain that it is the most lavish feast I have thrown in a long while. I am in a……celebratory mood.”

For a moment, you contemplated stabbing Ivar with the knitting needle that you held in your hand as he turned to leave. He was far to pleased with himself and the glee he seemed to get from the impeding death of Herry made you detest him even more. Though you wanted to hurt him in that moment, you knew better. So, instead of attacking your husband, you laid the knitting needle down and cried.

_______________

At the docks, Ivar appeared to be the happiest man on earth as he sat upon a bench watching the ship pull ever closer to Kattegat. As he peered out over the waters, he flipped his axe over and over in anticipation of having Herry Forester standing in front of him in the flesh.

He wanted to see for himself, the man whom you wished to live happily ever after with and most likely bear his children. Ivar could only imagine the things you and Herry spoke about as you lay in his arms whilst he was away raiding. The thought of it all made him even happier that he had chosen to capture your lover. His jealousy was properly stoked as he threw his axe again.

“I see that you are very pleased.” Halfdan said as he leaned on a wooden beam.

“Oh, I am. Not only will I get my vengeance but I will make certain that his death is one that will honor the Gods.” Ivar said as he kept his eyes on the approaching ship.

Halfdan understood why Ivar was planning to kill the man but at the same time, he also felt bad for you. As he gazed into the sky, he contemplated all that was about to unfold once his brother’s ship docked.

Halfdan knew that you were a good woman and had seen how often his friend had mistreated you. Even as a Viking, he knew women would often find comfort in other man’s arms when they felt unloved or unappreciated. Though he wanted to advise Ivar of this, he understood that the young Ragnarsson was not like other men. He found offense in things too easily and was also quick-tempered. For that reason, Halfdan kept his opinion to himself.

As Ivar, Halfdan and some of their other friends awaited the ship that was still a bit off in the distance, Bjorn appeared. He came with news of an important meeting that was taking place about upcoming raids and newly discovered lands. It had been announced some time back but it appeared that Ivar had forgotten about it due to his focus being on your lover.

“But I am awaiting Harald to dock.” Your husband protested. “Go on without me and make my excuses.”

“Ivar this is important. The other leaders and Kings will take exception if all the Ragnarssons are not present.” Bjorn chided him. “Even I have come, despite living the furthest away. It is far too important. You must attend!”

Rolling his eyes, Ivar finally relented as he took up his crutch. Turning to Halfdan, he announced that they would attend the meeting but leave a good number of thralls and servants behind to welcome Harald home. After leaving instructions with some of his men, Ivar and Halfdan joined Bjorn to attend the meeting.

_________________

After the meeting had ended and all was decided about who would lead what garrisons and battalions, Ivar was quick to make haste back home. He was pleased to see that all the thralls and servants that had traveled with Harald were back on the estate premises. It meant that his friend and the mysterious Herry Forester were there as well.

Harald was outdoors in the canopied dining area after receiving a greeting fit for a King, as per Ivar’s orders. He had been lavishly bathed by thralls and now sat, busily eating foods befitting any royal.

“My dear friend. I am glad to see that the Gods have brought you back home safely.” Ivar said as he warmly greeted Harald.

“Good to see you as well.”

After Harald and his brother exchanged greetings and brotherly love, Ivar sat down with the two men.

“We shall celebrate your return in grand fashion tonight. So you should rest until then.”Ivar boasted.

“Your little ‘present’ is in the cell as you wanted.”

“How does he appear to you?” Ivar asked as he gave all his attention to Harald.

His inquisitive mind wanted to know more before setting eyes on your lover. In a way, he wanted the opinion of another man, perhaps to squelch his deep seeded insecurity. Pondering for a moment, Harald finally spoke.

“Well, when I first spotted him when they brought him aboard the ship, I was not surprised.”

“How so?” Ivar asked.

“Well, he seems to be the type that could make some women weak. Especially Christian women. He possesses a boyish appearance…. you know….soft face and all.”Harald said as he took a bite of roasted meat. “Typical weakness brought about through their odd breeding practices….I assume.”

“So he appears a weaker man than I?” Ivar asked as blue eyes got larger.

“By Gods yes! Our shield-maidens would utterly reject him on site.” Harald chuckled as a thrall poured him mead.

Ivar smiled upon hearing that his ‘rival’ was not as masculine or powerful in appearance as he was. To know that you had chosen a weak specimen of a man actually made him laugh. Especially, since your husband prided himself on being imposing and intimidating. As you passed by them with four thralls in tow, Ivar glanced at you. Though your eyes met, you ignored him and turned your head.

“Wife!” He barked. “Do you not see that our friend Harald has returned?”

You stopped walking, almost ready to burst from rage. His happy countenance as of late was frustrating to endure. Turning sharply towards your husband, you exhaled before you spoke.

“I have had the pleasure of welcoming dear Harald home already.” You said. “He arrived hours ago whilst you were away at the meeting after all. Or have you forgotten that you instructed me to care for him prior to your departure?” You asked with some annoyance.

“I truly suggest that you watch your tone Y/N.” Ivar said as he gazed at you. “I merely asked you one simple question. I am in no need of a speech. Am I understood?”

“You are understood.” You replied.

With that you turned on your heels and walked away with the four thralls scurrying behind you. Harald and Halfdan exchanged glances before they continued to eat and drink. Ivar on the other hand, continued to watch you as you walked away. What he was thinking about or planning, only he knew.

_______________

“Mistress, can you please follow me to the courtyard?” A thrall said as she nervously looked at you.

“But this is my alone time.” You replied. “I shall go for fresh air later.”

You continued to sew gold and sliver embellishments into the light blue over-tunic you were making for Sigurd. Since you were an amazing seamstress, you often found yourself making clothes for your brothers-in-law. The thrall swallowed hard before approaching you timidly.

“My Mistress, I do not mean to be so forward but I must insist. I was instructed to take you there by the Master.”

You stopped sewing and looked up at the thrall. She seemed tense as she waited for you to do as she asked.

“Fine.” You said as you put your things down. “Let us see what this is all about.”

__________________

Since the winter was lifting, the weather was pretty decent so you only donned your light cloak over your dress and skirts as you followed the thrall. You were unaware that your every move was being watched. In the high-tower, Ivar sat with Ubbe and Hvitserk, observing you as he had planned.

“Are you certain you want to do this?” Ubbe asked as he poured himself some ale.

“Of course I am.” Ivar replied as he kept his eyes trained upon you. “I never do anything I am not certain of. Besides………..I have to see it for myself.”

What he wanted to ‘see for himself’ was the depth of your affection for Herry. Ivar had decided against meeting his prisoner face-to-face for the meantime. Instead, he wanted to lay eyes upon him from a distance. That was his reason for having you brought to the courtyard. To not only gaze upon his nemesis for the first time, but to witness your reaction to seeing him again. Most men would not have wanted to put themselves in that type of situation, but Ivar was an oddity. He was tormenting himself so that the execution would be far worse.

“This is absurd.” Hvisterk said as he watched you cross the courtyard. “Do you not realize that this will make her melancholy worse?”

“Melancholy?” Ivar scoffed. “Do not allow Y/N to fool you, brother. She is no wilting flower or tender-hearted woman. She is only upset that her plans to disgrace me did no come to fruition.

As he finished speaking, Ivar noted that some of his men were approaching you from the east-side of the estate. He waved Ubbe and Hvitserk forward so they could also witness what he was seeing.

_____________

The attractive Herry Forester walked between five guards as they led him towards where you and your thralls were sat. As he took notice of your form, your lover walked ahead of the men with a smile upon his face.

Since you had your back to them, he admired you a while before he finally called out to you. Upon hearing the voice you knew all too well, you froze. Slowly, you turned to see the man you loved and adored standing before you. You stood up and looked him over, still in shock at the sight. Surprisingly, Herry appeared to be in good spirits despite everything as he gazed into your eyes with deep affection.

You were utterly beside yourself with love and grief.

_______________

As he sat next to Ivar, Hvitserk watched with bated breath - his ears growing hot with jealously. Though he knew he should not be feeling so. You had been perfectly honest with him about your love for the man after all. Even when you had divulged the reason behind Ivar ordering you to be interrogated, you never held back about your devotion to Herry. So, like his little brother, all Hvitserk could do was watch the reunion unfold below him.

Ubbe, for his part, thought Ivar was insane for allowing you to be put in such a position. He knew that nothing good could come of it for either you nor Ivar. As much as the youngest Ragnarsson liked to make others believe that he was always in control of his emotions, Ubbe knew better. He knew that his little brother was underestimating the situation. Dark heart or not, watching the person you loved reunite with whom they really desired, would be a painful experience for anyone.

________________

“Herry!” You said as you finally ran to him.

Amazingly, the guards did not stop you. Since they had been instructed to allow you freedom of movement, they merely stood and watched. You embraced Herry tightly as he picked you up off your feet. You buried your face in his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his flesh while running your fingers through his wavy hair. The two of you stayed that way for a good long while, pretending that the world had melted away.

As he set you down, you looked up at your lover with eyes that began welling with tears.

“I have missed you something fierce Y/N.” He said - his own eyes glistening with tears as well.

“Your beautiful hair.” You exclaimed with a weak smile upon your face. “It is flaxen now?”

Herry chuckled as you brushed his locks with your fingers. He stated that there was an older woman who had bleached it with ash and lye soap to help further his disguise.

“That worked out quite well, did it not love?” He said in jest as he laughed.

You hit him on his shoulder for his attempt at humor at such a serious time. Knowing your hatred of jesting during grave moments, Herry laughed at you even harder.

“Well, I see you have not changed.” He added.

“Oh, be quiet.” You playfully commanded as you gazed at him.

Placing your hands on each of his cheeks, you caressed his face as if you were touching him for the first time. He gazed down at you with adoration as you took in every little detail of his person. From the tiny light brown mole on his chin, to the stubble along his jawline.

“I am so, so very sorry, my love” You said as tears escaped your eyes. “I did not wish for you to ever be here again. If–”

"Well, I for one cannot say that I am entirely saddened to be back here.” He smiled weakly. “At least I have laid eyes upon you again. I was so miserable without you. Every day, I wondered if it was the day your ship would arrive.

You pulled his face to yours - touching foreheads as you began to cry. The two of you stood that way for at least two minutes before Herry perked your chin up with his finger.

“Y/N, you know that I love you.” He said tapping your chin gently. “Though things are quite dire, you are forgetting what we have always said. No regrets. Remember?”

“No regrets.” You echoed as the tears kept streaming down your face.

Herry took a kerchief from his leather vest and began wiping your face as if you were a child. He smiled at you while doing so, knowing that your love for him was as deep as his love for you.

_______

Ivar’s jaws were so tense that Ubbe feared he would erupt in a blind rage at any moment. He was in no mood for his brother to escalate things more than they already were. Before he could say a word to his little brother, Ivar spoke.

“Look how she dotes upon him with no shame.” He said both in envy and anger.

“You are the one who insisted on witnessing it.” An annoyed Ubbe replied. “What did you think was going to occur?”

“It is of no consequence now.” Ivar snapped. “I am finally ready to meet this so-called Herry face to face. I want him to hear of his impending death from my own lips.”

Hvitserk and Ubbe glanced at one another in silence. They knew Ivar’s desire to see you reunite with your lover had only added to his madness. And they also knew that it would lead to things become worse for everyone for the foreseeable future.

__________________

Herry was sat in his prison cell reading the Psalms from his family bible when he heard numerous people approaching. For some odd reason, Ivar had allowed his prisoner to keep his religious books. Not as a show of kindness, but as a display of his great power. He wanted you and Herry to know that despite all your bibles, prayers and crosses, none were a match for Ivar the Boneless!

As the cell door was unlocked by a guard, Herry looked up to see who was coming to pay him a visit.

“So, I finally get to meet the man and legend himself. Herry Forester!” Ivar smirked as he walked into the cell. “The thrall who seduced my wife and then absconded to Wessex with my coin.”

Herry looked at Ivar a moment, not shaken by his words. He knew your husband was a cruel man who prided himself in tormenting others. So, despite being a prisoner of a man feared by both Heathen and Christian alike, your lover was unmoved.

“I cannot seduce a woman who is mine freely.”

Ivar glared at Herry as he walked around him slowly. He did not like the composed manner in which your Christian lover spoke. Not only did he look Ivar straight in his eyes, he did not show an ounce of fear, despite his situation.

“Do you think I am a fool?” Ivar asked.

“No. Why would I think that?” A serene Herry replied.

Ivar’s jaw tensed. His anger was rising quickly as he looked upon the young man before him. Whether he cared to admit it or not, he envied Herry. Though he had no great family name, war accolades or wealth, he had something that Ivar had yet to capture. Your heart.

“If you do not think me a fool, why did you sleep with my wife and think there would be no punishment?” Ivar hissed. “

“I will be honest with you Prince Ivar. In my wildest dreams, I would have never thought that I would ever bed a married woman.” Herry said. “However, Y/N should have never been your wife to begin with.”

Ivar’s blue eyes widened at the young man’s bluntness.

“We were in love and intended to marry long before you took her by force.” Herry continued. “I have broken a commandment, that I know. My Lord and God will have to judge me for that. But I do not regret being with the woman I love. Neither you nor anyone else can ever make me feel different.”

Ivar’s nostrils flared and his brow furrowed as he got in Herry’s face. He had heard enough from the unapologetic Christian. He expected the young man to be begging for his life by now, not reaffirming his love for you.

“I am going to enjoy killing you.” Ivar hissed.

“Do what you must.” Herry replied never looking away from Ivar’s intense glare.

“You have done nothing but torment Y/N from the day you walked into her life. At least this time, I am the focus of your rage. You can kill me. But what she and I share is beyond this mortal world. She will always love me.” Herry added.

“Good. Then you can expect her to love you whilst you lay in your Christian grave.” Ivar said between gritted teeth.

“The Bible tells us that it is appointed for man to live once and then die to face judgment. I do not fear death.”

“We’ll see.” Ivar replied.

“Despite what you believe, you are not God! I will neither beg nor fear you Ivar. Believer or not, you shall also die one day and receive your own judgment.” Herry said as he clasped his hands in front of him.

Ivar began shaking with rage. So much so that his guards thought for certain he would kill the prisoner at that very moment. Before he lost control, your husband calmed himself. He backed out of the cell and had it locked again. As he stood in front of the bars looking at Herry, Ivar spit on the ground before he finally departed.

__________________

Ivar barged into your chamber nearly in the middle of the night after drinking with his brothers and friends. The only brother to make excuses that evening was Hvitserk; who did not think he could be around Ivar without it resulting in violence. As soon as your husband sat upon the bed to be undressed by the thralls, you spoke up.

“Please Ivar! I cannot live if you follow through.” You said holding in your tears. If there is anything you want me to do, I beg that you tell me. Please!” You added as you practically crawled to him. "With everything in me as a woman….I ask for mercy.”

You held onto one of his legs - covered by his metal brace. The coldness of the steel that helped your husband walk was as cold as his heart. Ivar looked down at you as if you were a madwoman that had wondered in off the streets.

“Let go of me Y/N.” He snapped. “I am tired and in need of rest.”

“Punish me instead!” You said as you began to weep.

Your heart began to feel as if it would stop beating from the pain. The thought of your sweet Herry dying in front of you was worse than anything you could imagine. How could you watch the life leave your lover’s body? It was just too much for your Christian sensibilities to handle. Still looking down at you, Ivar drew his face into a familiar scowl as his jaw tightened. His blue eyes became dark and full of a malice you had never seen before. It was the angriest you had seen your husband in a long while.

“Have you gone mad Y/N?” He shouted at you with his face turning red. “You are MY wife and you gave yourself to another. Now you beg upon your knees?” He seethed. “Do you know that you are making it worse for him? I shall give him a death that will make even the Gods tremble if you do not leave me be!”

“Ivar.” You said - tears falling uncontrollably. “I implore you not to kill him. Just imprison him for life. If anyone should suffer, let it be me.” Your voice shook with brokenness. “Kill me instead. I am the one who deceived you not–.”

“Shut up Y/N! Do you hear yourself right now?” Ivar shouted.

He could not believe what you were saying. Why were you so dedicated to a man who was nothing and owned nothing compared to him? He was a Ragnarsson and a Prince, not to mention a feared warrior. Herry was merely a former thrall that had made good use of the coin you gave him.

“So, you are willing to offer me your life for his without a second thought?” Ivar asked as he looked at you with disgust. “Listen and listen to me well Y/N, for I shall not repeat myself. You fucked this thrall while I was off raiding, never giving thought of praying for my safe return. Then, you had the gall to use my coin to hide him! Do you really suppose tears will suffice for all that?” He shook his head as if you had lost your senses. “Of course I’m going to kill him!”

______________

It was the night before Herry’s appointed death and you paced the floor of the Great Hall beside yourself with grief. Ivar had gone off somewhere with Halfdan, Harald and Ubbe leaving you to your own devices. You wanted desperately to see your lover one last time but you knew your husband’s men would never allow it. As you took a seat, utterly dejected, you heard footsteps approach.

“Come quickly Y/N.” Hvitserk beckoned.

When you looked at him, he knelt by you - dressed finely as if he had just returned from a feast or event.

“Where are we–.”

“There is no time for questions. Just trust me.”

Taking his hand, you allowed the Ragnarsson you had grown to trust and depend on, to lead you without question. It didn’t take long before your realized exactly where he was taking you. The tower where your dear Herry was being held. The two guards stopped you both when you arrived at the massive doors, however, Hvitserk took charge.

“You will allow us to pass, do I make myself clear? And if you repeat anything that you saw tonight, I will kill you both.” He said very calmly.

The men glanced at each other and then back at the Prince that stood before them. Shrugging, one stepped aside as the other opened up the large wood and metal door. Upon opening it, the one guard led the two of you to the cell where you found your lover awake looking out of the window into the night sky. The guard unlocked the metal cell door with a clank, which finally drew Herry’s attention. His face lit up upon seeing you.

Despite pain in his chest that felt worse than anything, Hvitserk stepped back.

“Go to him.” He said to you.

You looked back at the elder Ragnarsson and noted the forced smile upon his face. Touching his shoulder, you smiled with tears welling in your eyes.

“Thank you Hvitty.” You whispered.

___________

In the cell, you ran into Herry’s arms. He hugged you tightly as you both attempted to savor the moment. Without a second thought you broke the embrace and crashed your lips to his for the first time in months. The kiss was gentle, sweet and pure. His lips claimed yours as he practically swept you off your feet.

A solemn Hvitserk turned his back to the two of you and took a seat on a nearby stool. Everything in him hurt. It wasn’t a feeling he had ever felt before. He had his share of lovers but he never felt any pain when he lost them or saw them with another. But with you, it felt as if he was falling ill. Hvitserk gritted his teeth to keep from thinking about how only a few paces behind him, you were utterly happy in another man’s arms.

“I love you so much Herry.” You said. “Please forgive me for everything I have done to you to bring you to this wretched moment.”

He smiled as he brushed his lips against yours a moment before kissing you again. After breaking the kiss, Herry rubbed his thumb against your bottom lip and smiled.

“What is there for me to forgive my silly one? You have done nothing to me but love me unconditionally. Everything else is as God has allowed it.” He said before giving you a soft peck.

“I will always love you Herry.” You replied with a shaking voice. “I…..I shall kill myself so I can be with you.”

Hvitserk’s heart sank when he heard you state that you wanted to end your life.

“Do not say such things Y/N. You know that people who take their own life end up in purgatory and can never enter eternal rest. Do you wish to damn your soul and separate us for eternity?” Herry asked with a smile.

“No.” You hesitated. “I suppose not. It is just….I cannot live without you. You are my heart.”

“As you are mine.” He said as he pulled you closer. “That is why you must be a fighter. You dying as well will not solve anything. Remember, things will not always be so dire, you must believe that.”

Herry took your hand and kissed your fingertips and then playfully bit them as he had habit of doing. In spite of your sadness, you giggled in response. The two of you touched foreheads tenderly as you caressed his face - you fingers lightly dancing against his skin.

“I have prayed and committed my soul to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.” He said. “I feel an odd sense peace now.”

“I have been praying for you as well. Perhaps, we can still hold out for a miracle.”

“Let us not speak of miracles my sweet Y/N.” Herry said as he wrapped his arms around you and rested your head upon his shoulder. “Just let me hold you.”

_______________

In the courtyard of your husbands estate, you sat where the Viking priests had instructed. It was late in the afternoon and time for the Herry Forester to meet his maker. Numerous friends and acquaintances of your husband were sat around at tables, eating and drinking. As you sat numb to the world, you nervously twisted your black over-skirt - the entire outfit selected by Ivar. As for your husband, he was also donned in all black standing near a large table full of all manner of weaponry.

You winced as you saw how many instruments of torture were on display. Especially the large war axe that you knew Berserkers loved for it’s ability to mutilate the human body quickly. You overheard Ivar speaking to the priest who was sharpening a large dagger in a language you did not recognize. When he had finished, the priest unraveled his braids and allowed Ivar’s dark hair to cascade down his back and shoulders. The man then rubbed some dark-reddish powder throughout your husband’s locks. When he was done, the priest handed the dagger to Ivar. Walking to you upon his crutch, your husband stopped directly in front of you.

“Stand up, wife.” He commanded.

When you did as he asked, Ivar pressed his forehead to yours - his hair tickling your cheeks as the wind picked up. You then realized that he wasn’t merely pressing his head to yours for no reason, he was saying some words in the dialect you did not recognize. From the cadence of how he spoke, you surmised that he was likely offering a prayer to his Gods.

Hvitserk, who sat a few yards away with Ubbe and Sigurd, eyed Ivar with disdain. When your husband had finished the prayer, he suddenly held the curved dagger by it’s handle. The weapon was as pretty as it was deadly looking. It was engraved with runes so you assumed it was a ceremonial weapon of sorts. As his hair blew in the wind, Ivar’s blue eyes stared into yours a moment before he leaned to your ear.

“If you kill him, I shall not have the need to prolong his death.” He said. See, I have given you a choice.

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open but no words escaped. Ivar gave you a pleased look as you stood in utter shock. Your husband then managed to unravel one of your thick braids and used the dagger to cut a lock of your hair. He handed the strands to a priest and then cut a lock of his own hair in the same manner. When the priest had both of your hairs in his hand, he nodded and walked away. After that was complete, two thralls rushed over and rubbed some aromatic oils in Ivar’s hair before they quickly braided it.

The same scented oils were run along your already style hair as you stood motionless. Satisfied, one of the priests applied black ash on both of your foreheads in the form of a symbol - what it stood for, you did not know.

Ivar held on to the ceremonial dagger as he wrapped his arm around your waist. You began to shake as you felt your knees go weak. How could he expect you to kill the man you loved? The three priests walked to you and Ivar and began chanting in the unfamiliar dialect again while walking around you both in a circle. Your heart began to pound in your ears as you looked around and searched for where they were holding Herry.

You had not seen him since Hvitserk had taken you to him the night before. The nausea hit you as the priests continued walking around you and Ivar. For a brief moment, you looked at the dagger in your husband’s hand and contemplated using it on him. The man who had tormented you for nearly two years was within striking distance. Ivar’s guard was down as he stood beside you holding it loosely, focused on what the priests were saying.

But your husband was a perceptive man. Noticing the manner in which you were staring at the dagger and clenching your jaw, Ivar’s grip upon your waist tightened. He then leaned his mouth to your ear.

“What are you thinking, hmm?” He asked in a very calm tone. “I will not try to stop you. But know this Y/N, if you strike, you best kill me.”

You looked up into Ivar’s blue eyes that met yours with odd resolve. He stared at you as if he was challenging you to try to kill him. The intense, unwavering nature of his gaze finally made you look away. How did he know you so well that he could tell what you were thinking by merely by looking at you? It was as strange as it was unnerving.

Suddenly, some horns sounded and Herry was led past the gathered people towards the center of the courtyard. As soon as you saw your lover, you tried to go to him but Ivar pulled you back.

“Hold him there a moment.” A pleased Ivar commanded. “Behold everyone! Here is our Christian hero returned to us from Wessex. All in the name of love.” He shouted to the laughter of the Vikings around him.

Ivar laughed as he gazed at his rival for the last time. Indeed, Herry would no longer cause him any more grief.

Hvitserk shifted in his seat as he held his sword on his lap, quite tired of his brother’s show.

“What was it you said to me in the cell, Herry?” Ivar asked before he leaned over and placed a kiss upon your cheek. “Oh, I remember. You said that you appreciated that my rage was focused on you instead of Y/N.”

Herry glared at him but stood with his head held high.

“So what would you do if I was to decide to punish her instead?” Ivar said as he grabbed the back of your neck and raised the dagger.

Exposing the length of your neck by drawing you head backward, he placed the jagged blade against your throat as he glared into the eyes of the man he hated. Harald and Halfdan both looked at each other with some confusion before turning their attention back to Ivar’s display. Though he had a weapon at your neck, neither of them believed he would actually do anything.

However, the brothers were unsure of what their friend was trying to prove and did not care for it. Fortunately, they were not the only ones. The other Ragnarssons eyed Ivar cautiously in case his display was not merely for shock value. As for Hvitserk, he was thoroughly prepared to kill Ivar if need be.

“Do not harm her please.” Herry said with brokenness.

“Then get on your knees and beg me for her life!” Ivar hissed. “You told me that you would never beg me nor fear me. I want to see you do both.”

Without hesitation, Herry got on his knees.

“I beg you Prince Ivar, do not hurt Y/N. She does not deserve it.” He said. “You have me to do with as you see fit. Please, I ask you for mercy.”

Ivar chuckled, quite pleased with the manner in which his threat had caused distress to Herry. He glanced at you a moment before slowly pulling the dagger away. With a smug smile, your husband looked down at his prisoner.

“Well that was easy.” He said with satisfaction. “Now, it is time for you to meet your Christian God.”

You pulled yourself from Ivar’s grip and ran to Herry - kneeling on the ground before him. Sigurd, being perhaps the most sensitive of the Ragnarssons, watched with a heavy heart. He could not imagine how you were feeling. Hvitserk also felt bad, however, he wavered between jealousy and pity.

“Herry, do not worry about me. I should be the one begging for your life despite the fact that Ivar has a heart of stone.”

“As I have told you already, I have made my peace. Just promise me that you will always love me.” Herry said as he caressed your cheek.

Ivar frowned as he watched you behave as if the world was coming to an end.

“Y/N, you best kill him now or I will began dismembering him while alive and spread his parts all over Kattegat!” Your husband yelled at you.

Your heart raced as you looked into Herry’s eyes. He appeared to pity you instead of concerning himself with his impending death.

“Do not allow him to force you to kill me. I will take his punishment as it comes.”

“No!” You said as you grasped his tunic. “Are you mad? Do you want me to think about your last moments being that of gore and violence?”

“But…you cannot do it my love. It would be too much for you to live with. I know your kind heart too well.” Herry said as he gave you a faint smile.

“I cannot allow you to suffer but I also do not want to use my own hands to hurt you.”You said placing your forehead against his.

“Either say you will do it or I shall begin carving!” Ivar growled.

“I…I shall do it!” You said loudly as tears fell.

Ivar was inwardly happy with your decision. All along, he had wanted you to be the one to destroy your lover. He felt it was what you deserved for hurting him. A surprised Bjorn put his head down as he tapped the side of horn of mead. There was an uneasy silence as the guards grabbed Herry and began to lead him towards the table used for human sacrifice.

You did your best to hold onto his hand as long as possible until one of the guards finally had to pull you off. As he was being taken to his area of execution, Herry broke away from the guards suddenly. He rushed over to you with his eyes fixed upon yours and pulled you into one last kiss.

Ivar was livid and he shouted at his men to break up the scene before his eyes. The guards all hesitated a moment, seemingly astounded by the depth of the love between you. Once Herry was pulled away from you, Ivar walked over and placed the ceremonial dagger into your hand.

“If you hesitate Y/N, I will not give you a second attempt.” He said.

As you slowly walked over to your lover, who was laid on his back on the ceremonial table, Bjorn suddenly sauntered over to your side. Grabbing your wrist, your former Master and now brother-in-law whispered.

“Stick him between his jaw and earlobe. He will go rather quickly.” The elder Ragnarsson said and then pointed to the spot he spoke of.

You nodded slowly, in a bit of a daze as you held the dagger close to your chest. When you approached the table where Herry laid awaiting you, you legs went weak and you stumbled. Bjorn, who was still close by, caught you and rested you against himself. Being a caring person, he walked you over to the ceremonial table and stood beside you still allowing you to place your weight against him. In his heart, Bjorn felt as if everything occurring was his own fault. If he had only stuck to his initial denials to his little brother, you would have had a much happier life.

Your body trembled violently as you leaned over Herry and laid your head upon his chest. Your tears would not stop as you listened to his heart beating underneath your ear. A heart, that in moments, would beat no more. Bringing his hand to your head, Herry turned you to face him.

“Do not do it Y/N. It will break you.” He said as he peered into your eyes.

“I would do anything for you Herry. Even this.” You said. “I will be strong for both of us so that your death will not be painful.”

He smiled at you weakly as you caressed his face. Your heart felt utterly broken beyond comfort.

“I love you so much Herry.” You said as you studied his features.

“I love you too Y/N. More than you could ever comprehend.” He said with his beautiful smile beaming at you. “No regrets my love.”

“No regrets.” You replied.

Taking the ceremonial dagger, you glanced back at Bjorn who pointed to his neck again to show you the spot to hit. You exhaled deeply and looked down at Herry’s neck to find the right area as instructed by the eldest Ragnarsson. Once you spotted it, you leaned down and gave Herry once last kiss.

“That is enough! I–.”

Before Ivar could finish his words, you thrust the dagger swiftly into your lover’s neck, severing the artery just as Bjorn had instructed. Herry’s green eyes went wide as he looked into Y/C eyes with shock. You dropped the bloody dagger on the ground as you took his hand in yours and placed you face close to his.

“I am so, very sorry. Please do not hate me Herry.” You sobbed as you tried to comfort him the best you could. “It is all my fault.”

Hvitserk looked away. He could not bear to see you so distraught, even if it was over another man.

Sigurd and Ubbe both drank their mead by the mouthfuls as they attempted to drown out your sorrowful wails. As for the other Vikings, they seemed pleased with the death of a Christian. Especially at the hand of another supposed Christian. The irony of your ‘thou shalt not kill’ commandment made them laugh the more.

Herry did not make any painful noises as you expected. He kept looking into your eyes as the blood pooled underneath him and slowly slid down into a large wooden bowl located by the table. His breathing became shallow as he kept staring into your eyes. The light in his once bright green eyes, seemingly fading by the second.

“I see it. It is so very beautiful Y/N.” He muttered.

“I love you Herry. I will always love you.” You whimpered with your face against his.

Within seconds, your sweet Herry was no more. His body stilled and his eyes stared into yours but with no life behind them. You collapsed on top of him, kissing his lips and caressing his face as you wailed unlike anything the Vikings around you had seen before. You were utterly broken.

You could not recall what else had occurred between you collapsing on top of Herry’s body and when you awakened to find yourself being carried by Sigurd. He was relieved to see you open your eyes, as was Hvitserk who was walking alongside him. As your brother-in-law carried you away from the now festive atmosphere of your lover’s execution, you saw Ivar with the bowl that contained Herry’s blood. He was the first to dip his hands and taste of it before the rest of the Vikings would have their turn.

It was then you swore to one day leave Ivar no matter what the cost. If the two of you killed one another in the attempt, so be it.

____________

It had been nearly four months since Herry’s death and you had made certain that Ivar knew you would not lay with him. No matter what he said or did, you kept your word. To say your husband was sexually frustrated would have been an understatement. He became even more short tempered than he was already. However, you knew you had to come up with a plan since Ivar had begun ranting about his right to force himself upon you. Thinking long and hard, you came up with a solution you hoped would work. Taking great care to invite your little sister over for suppers and long walks, you slowly began introducing the subject of Ivar and your inability to ‘please’ him in the bed.

Despite Elizabeth’s good Christian girl persona, she was a woman first and foremost. Since having her son, you knew that she and Jonah’s sex life was not that great, according to her own words. You also knew that she found Ivar quite attractive and had seen her harmlessly flirt with him on many occasion. At one such supper, as you and your little sister ate alone, you finally decided to get to the point.

“You should perhaps try to relax more, or even try new positions in the bed. The man on top is wonderful but there is so much more, sister.” She suggested. “Please, do not think me naughty for saying it” She added with a giggle.

“No, that will not help the problem.” You replied. “What we are in need of is a…a convenient woman. Someone to lay with him since I am unable to at the present time.” You said as you eyed your sister.

Despite her shifting uncomfortably in her seat and sipping her wine quickly, Elizabeth did not interrupt you.

“Ivar is far too much man for me. I know we need another woman to please him but I just do not wish for it to be a stranger.” You paused. “That is why…..I want you, as my sister, to lay with him in my place.”

Elizabeth eyes shot to you. She could barely register what you had suggested.

“Now remember Lizzy, in the bible there are numerous mentions of women laying with married men at the behest of their wives.” You said as you tried to convince her. “It would not be deceitful since I am asking you to do it.”

To your utter relief, she did not throw her fork down and leave the table as you had thought. Instead, Elizabeth looked around and leaned closer over the table.

“But what of Jonah?” She asked. “Would I not be breaking my vows with him?”

“Oh heavens no. We are both married couples and you are not leaving him or philandering about. You are helping me to keep my marriage a happy one by fulfilling what I cannot in the bedchamber.” You replied. “There is no need to involve Jonah. Bedsides, Ivar is a man of privacy, he would want only the three of us to be in the know.”

Your sister was more excited than she wanted to let on. After mulling it over only a few minutes, she suddenly glanced up at you with a shy smile.

“I will do it.” She said.

_________________

After his return from visiting a nearby Kingdom with Halfdan, Bjorn and Harald, Ivar began drinking heavily again. Every night, he accused you of all manner of things, including being the reason he was being denied a baby. One such evening; when you had reminded him that he could father one with any woman in Kattegat; Ivar attempted to throw a large vessel of mead at your head. The only reason he was unable to do so was due to three thralls grabbing his arms. Indeed, Ivar had been on a rampage, the likes you had not seen.

Even Harald’s council did not soothe his inner beast. Due to his behavior, you tried to avoid him when he was at the estate. However, this only made things worse. He would go on tangents until frightened thralls searched you out and informed him of your whereabouts.

Regardless of what you were doing, whether it was merely sewing or watching the sunset over the waters of Kattegat, he would demand to be taken to your side. Despite you ignoring him, Ivar would seem content enough just being around you and eventually calm down. Your husband was behaving like a child afraid of their parent abandoning them and it was wearing on your nerves.

_____________

“You were too content with the idea of sleeping alone when I traveled with Bjorn.” He said in a drunken stupor one night. “Even if you cannot lay with me because of your issue, I am your husband; you should miss me!”

“What would you have me do Ivar? Go around mourning because you are not beside me every waking moment?”

“I no longer have patience for your sharp tongue Y/N! I do not know how many times I have to tell you this. One day, I shall cut it out and feed it to the dogs of Kattegat.” Ivar said.

He then produced his favorite knife from his side and placed the tip upon your cheek. You stared at him but said nothing.

The blade he held was quite sharp and you had seen him cut numerous thralls with it with little effort. Now, he had it pressed to your flesh as his drunken eyes glared at you.

“That is better.” He said with a frown upon his face. “I want you to speak to me as if love me as much as I love you.” He said as he blue eyes bore into yours. “Am I understood?”

“Of course.”

“Of course what?” Ivar hissed.

“Of course, my husband.”

Ivar smiled as he took the knife away from you flesh. He flurried it in his fingers a moment before returning it to his waist.

“I want you now.” He commanded as he drunkenly shoved you onto your back.

“Ivar, I have told you I have been suffering some women problems.” You protested with your lie.

Despite wanting to lay with you badly, Ivar scowled and rolled onto his back.

“I do have a solution though. Take this and I shall return.”

Ivar took the mead from your hand and began to drink as you stepped out of the bedchamber.

___________

You went straight off to the guest room your little sister always slept in when she visited and knocked. The way the two of you had figured things, it was only a matter of time before Ivar would demand sex and Elizabeth would be there to provide it. As you sister exited her chamber, she looked quite nervous. She was already wearing a red silk slip and over-slip in anticipation of you calling for her.

“It is time.” You said. “Do not be be so frightened Lizzy. He is merely a man.”

“I understand but I am still nervous.” She confessed. “What if he gets mad at the two of us for no reason and does something terrible?”

“Do not worry so much. Ivar is very drunk and very much in the mood for a woman’s touch.” You reassured her. “You will be fine.”

As you took your little sister’s hand in yours, you used the candle in your grasp to guide her back to your chambers.

__________

Ivar looked up when the two of you entered the chamber and gazed between you both for a moment. Immediately, he became perplexed.

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked with his anger rising. “What is she doing here?”

“Ivar, my sweet husband. I have brought sweet Lizzy here to offer you release. She is willingly doing it to help us in our–.”

“You are pushing me to another woman? He asked with anger. “Is that how much you detest my touch?”

Comforting him, you caressed his cheek and kissed his lips sweetly.

“Of course not. It’s just that I know that Vikings do this all the time–”

“Stop comparing me to other men!” He hissed.

“I am sorry.” You soothed. “I merely meant that Lizzy wants to help you find some pleasure until I can give you what you need.”

Ivar looked into your eyes with mistrust as he gulped down more ale. He then looked over at Elizabeth who kept her eyes to the floor.

“Just for tonight.” He said as he glared at you. “I will not be pushed away Y/N. You are my wife, not Elizabeth!”

“Of course Ivar.” You replied as you kissed his cheek.

With that, you stood up and departed the chamber, quite pleased with yourself.

________

To say Elizabeth was excited to get in bed with Ivar the Boneless would have been an understatement. Ivar’s odd charms had managed to work their way into your little sister’s heart long ago. Aside from his good looks, she found his temperament exciting to be around especially since she was never on the receiving end of his cruelty. He seemed to treat her better than most people and even spoke with her more gently than he even spoke to you.

As the last of his clothes were removed by the thralls, Ivar barked at them to get out. As she stood looking at him, Elizabeth slowly began removing her garments as Ivar watched her from the bed. Instead of looking delighted however, Ivar’s expression changed to one of sad apprehension.

A nude Elizabeth slowly walked over to the bed and sat close to Ivar as he shifted on the furs. She was excited by toned frame as well as his manliness, which was overwhelming when compared to Jonah. Though she loved Jonah, your sister lusted after Ivar. You asking her to lay with him was not only a dream come true but something she had fantasied about numerous times. As she got on top of him, Elizabeth slowly rocked her mound against his semi erect cock. Unsure what to do at first, Ivar finally held her waist as he watched her move.

“I hope I am not hurting you.” She said as she felt herself become even more aroused - her whole body running hot.

She looked down at your husband who still seemed hesitant as his eyes darted around the room.

“Do not be so tense. I am a woman Ivar. No different than my sister.”

“Do not mention Y/N.” Ivar said as his eyes went dark.

Nodding, Elizabeth kept rotating her hips against him until he began to groan as his excitement grew. Then abruptly, Ivar tossed your sister off him. Stunned, she sat up in the bed and looked at your husband who seemed to be battling his emotions.

“Did I do something wrong?” Elizabeth asked. “Please let me know so I can make it better.”

A frustrated Ivar rolled his eyes as he threw himself onto his back.

“What is the matter?” You sister asked nervously. “Did I offend with my words?”

Ivar looked up at the ceiling a while before he finally spoke.

“You did not offend me so stop apologizing.” He said. “It is just that…I do not want you.”

Elizabeth was stunned. How could he reject her while she sat in front of him naked and ready to please him?

“But Ivar, I am here to give you anything you desire. Let me do what is required to make you feel good.” Elizabeth said as she kissed Ivar’s cheek. “You can just lay there while I—”

“No!” An increasingly upset Ivar said. “I just want to rest.”

With that Ivar rolled onto his side and covered himself with some furs. Though she felt quite rejected, Elizabeth cuddled up close to him as he tried to get comfortable.

“Ivar…..do you find me unattractive?” She asked.

Her pride was greatly wounded and she supposed that his rejection could have something to do with the few stretch marks from her pregnancy.

“You are not unattractive.” Ivar sighed as he closed his eyes. “I just want to be with my wife.”

________________

Two days later at your mother’s home, you sat in the main room embelishing a dress for her when she took a seat in front of you.

“I will help you do inventory when I am done with this, mother.”

“There will be no need for that dear. I have a girl that now does it for me on a regular basis.”

Your heart nearly stopped. You had purposely come to get your supply of herbs that had run out.

“But mother. Who knows the use of herbs like our family?” You said. “Besides, we have such a methodical way of arranging them.”

“My thrall has picked up on it quite nicely. You need not worry.” Your mother replied as she eyed you.

You were becoming agitated as you continued to sew. You had to figure out a way to get into her shop. To gather the herbs she had was both difficult and time consuming. Especially since they were spread all over Kattegat. With how Ivar had you under lock and key, there was no way you could ever gather them yourself even if you wanted to.

“Mother if—.”

“Why have you been lying to me Y/N?”

“Pardon?”

Your mother exhaled as she put her cup of honeyed water down.

“I know you have been stealing herbs from me.” She said. “Why did you feel the need to do such a thing?”

You stopped sewing and sighed as you put the dress to the side. It was time to come clean to your mother now that you had been caught.

“Mother, I am truly sorry but I thought you would not understand. I know how you feel about such herbs for Christian women.”

“That may be true but does that give you the right to commit the sin of stealing? She asked. “From your own mother of all people. Do you know how long it takes me and the thralls I’ve trained to find these specimens?”

“I am so–”

“Of course you do not know because you simply come here, pretend that you want to keep me company and steal what you need.”

You felt like a wicked person when you actually heard your mother speak of your actions. It was a bit cruel to visit her for the sole purpose of stealing herbs for your own use - never taking into account her time and effort to attain them.

“Mother forgive me but I was desperate.”

“But I am your mother. You should be able to tell me these things.” She sighed. “What do you suppose your violent husband would do to me if his servants were to ever find those herbs in your possession?”

“I never thought about–.”

“Do you realize that most females can recognize these herbs by looking at them?” She asked. “Do you think we are the only women on earth to have knowledge of ‘how not to hold seed’?”

You thought about all your mother had put to you and realized that you had been selfish with both her herbs as well as her well-being. It was true that if any thralls saw the herbs and reported back to Ivar, your mother would not necessarily be safe. Ivar was capable of anything and her being your mother didn’t mean he would not harm her.

“Look dear. I will not allow you anymore access to the shop.”

You looked around the room in a panic, wondering what to say to change her mind.

“However….” She continued. “I will make small batches for you and send them with one of my trusted thralls.” Your mother said holding up a little silver vial. “She’s very old and keeps to herself. The tinctures will come in something similar to this….easy to hide and appears to be jewelry to the untrained eye.”

“You mean….you will still help me?” You asked.

“Of course.” Your mother said. “After all, you are my daughter.”

__________________

“I do not understand.” You said as you began to pace. “Why must Ivar set you and your men in the center of the battle?”

Hvitserk smiled at you knowing you were worried about him losing his life on the battlefield.

A Viking King named Kol Oddsson had turned on some of Bjorn and Ivar’s men after they had helped in raiding a newly discovered settlement. Upon hearing the news, the other Viking leaders asked that swift justice be meted out. After all, they could not allow leaders to think that the breaking alliances would ever be tolerated.

With great planning by Ivar, Bjorn and the rest of the Ragnarssons, the tactics had been drawn-up to take war to the wayward King. They were all to depart in three days much to your concern.

“Do not worry Y/N. I believe that the Gods are on my side……at least for now.” Hvitserk said as he pulled you by your skirts towards him. “At any rate, if I fall in battle, I shall go to Valhalla to be with my father and the other great warriors.”

“Hvitserk!” You sharply looked at him with fire in your eyes. “If you speak of dying to me again, I shall leave you in this room by yourself! I do not wish to lose you regardless of what your beliefs are.”

Very touched at how much you cared, he pulled you to his lap and kissed you. His soft lips grazed yours as he pulled away.

“I have been mulling over some plans to get us away from Ivar. I know it will take time to thoroughly come up with a good enough one for him to not find us…but I am confidant.” Hvitserk said as he held your hand.

Your eyes twinkled as you looked at him. It was one of the best pieces of news you had received in a long time. You wanted nothing more than to be with Hvitserk as your husband. That was the closest to an ideal life you could dream up especially now that Herry was gone.

“I trust your mind Hvitty.” You said as you placed a gentle kiss upon his lips. “I will wait patiently. You know how much I have grown to care for you”

Hvitserk bit his lip at your words. He wanted desperately for you to say you loved him not merely ‘cared’ for him. However, he knew that you had lost Herry not long ago and you would not be so quick to confess such a thing. Since he loved you already, he was willing to wait to hear the three words whenever you were able to utter them.

“I love you Y/N.” He sighed. “And the time will come when I will have you all to myself. We will no longer have to tiptoe around Ivar’s madness.” He said before he kissed your cheek.

“That sounds wonderful.”

“Do not get comfortable with the idea so quickly. After all, I am a demanding man myself. You will earn your keep.” He teased. “As you promised, you will cook at least five meals a week yourself, despite us having servants. Oh, and of course you shall give me three children I can dote on.”

“Three?” You smiled with curiosity. “Why the odd number?

“I suppose I want one less than my mother had. Ivar was the fourth born, and well…….you see how that turned out.” He smirked.

You gave Hvitserk a passionate kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The two of you were stolen away in a new portion of the estate that had been built. The rooms were not yet fully decorated so no one really came there with the exception of decorators during the daytime. Hvitserk looked into your eyes with a passion that made your heart race. He was very much like Herry in how he cared for you. Because of this, you cared for the older Ragnarsson despite never even laying with him once.

“You better return to me in one piece.” You said as you caressed his hands that were intertwined with yours.

“I know why you are so desperate for me to survive.”

“Because I care for you of course.”

“That is not your only reason. I know for a fact that you lust after me.” He teased. “Do not think I have not noticed how you eye me at all times. If you do not control yourself, I will begin thinking that you are using me solely for my body, Y/N.”

You laughed at his remark as you stood so the two of you could return to the main portion of the estate. However, Hvitserk stopped you. Instead, he brought you back to his lap and tickled you mercilessly.

_________________

Despite what Hvitserk had said, you knew he was being put in a very dangerous position. Out of all his brothers and close friends, Ivar had Hvitserk in the center of the greatest amount of fighting. You could not understand how your husband could risk his brother’s life in such a fashion but not that of Halfdan and Harald. You knew telling Hvitserk to make Ivar change the battle plans would be fruitless. He did not care to ask for his little brother’s mercy and had already thrown his life into the hands of his Gods.

You, on the other hand, had the ability to get Ivar to do things for you. That was, if you actually took your time to be ‘nice’ to him. You cared for Hvitserk and if seducing Ivar meant saving his life, you would do so in a heartbeat. After all, you could do nothing to save Herry but Hvtiserk would not be put in an early grave due to Ivar’s whims. Not if you could help it!

“Ivar.” You said as you finally found him still seated in the empty Great Hall.

He looked at you with annoyance but other than that, he beckoned you forward. When you sat upon his lap, he was surprised and shifted in his seat. As you placed your arms around his neck, your husband looked at your with a grain of mistrust.

“What is it Y/N?” He said as he coldly eyed you. “You have never liked sitting on my lap before. Even when I try to pull you to me, you resist, but now you do so willingly?” He furrowed his brow as he finished speaking.

“I…I suppose you are correct. It is just that…..well…” You tried to find the best words as not to raise his suspicion. “I feel……the need to be touched now that my womanly issue is getting better.”

Ivar smirked at your revelation. But just as quickly, his face went serious.

“You toy with me.” He said as his nostrils flared and eyes became large. “I am in no mood for your games.”

Seeing you were losing control of him, you kept your voice serene and calm as you stroked the back of his neck with your fingers.

“I did not come to taunt you Ivar.” You said. “It has been a long while since I have felt….well….pleasure. Though I have given you permission to find comfort with Elizabeth, I myself grow anxious for comfort.”

Ivar’s eyes perked up as he brought his face closer to yours. He looked up at you in the same manner he did when he spotted you at Bjorn’s Great Hall.

You had to admit, when he wasn’t raging, Ivar could look at you with great devotion and love. Perhaps Bjorn was correct when he had told you that Ivar loved you more than anything in the entire world.

You pressed your lips to your husband’s own very gently as you cupped his face. As you pulled away, you looked into his blue eyes that were nearly wet with tears. Just like that, Ivar had melted in your hands.

“You know that I love you.” He whispered as he searched your Y/C eyes. “If you really mean it, I wish to come back to lay with you not just for tonight. He paused. “I have not found release elsewhere and you insisting that your sister comfort me is unfair.”

Ivar pulled you closer as he continued to look at you as if he was on the verge of crying.

“I understand and am sorry to have made you feel so.” You replied. “I thought that since other men–.”

“Stop that. How many time must I tell you that I am not like other men!” Ivar snapped. “I want to lay with you, my wife.” He paused. “I want you always with me, do you understand Y/N?”

“Yes.” You soothed him as you gently caressed the prickly hairs of his sideburns.

Ivar leaned forward and gave you a soft peck on your lips.

“Remember, I chose you.” He said. “When you constantly push me away, it wounds me.”

You leaned down and parted Ivar’s lips with yours. It didn’t take him long to become enthralled as he passionately kissed you back. His hands traveled from your waist to your breasts as he gently groped them a little roughly. He then slowly took his lips from yours and slid his tongue down your jawline to your neck. When he found your sensitive spot, on the crook of your neck, he began to give the flesh open mouth kisses and bites. Stopping abruptly, he stood you up from his lap.

“Come, let us go to our chamber.” Ivar said as he tapped you hip.

_____________

In your bed chamber, Ivar was undressed by thralls while you went to your jewelry box. You grabbed one of the small vials your mother had been sending to you with the tincture. Uncorking the tiny silver bottle, you swallowed the contents down quickly. By you the time got to the side of the bed, Ivar had already tossed all the thralls out of the room. You stood in front of him utterly naked with the exception of tiny silver waist chain that you often wore for vanity purposes.

After looking at you a while, Ivar took your hand and kissed it before pulling you down gently onto the bed. He laid you on your back slowly before rolling on top of you. When he was over you, your husband hovered a moment as he brushed your cheek with the back of his hand.

“I am so happy right now.” He said.

Ivar then leaned down and parted your lips sensually as he took you into a kiss. It was a needy and erotic one as he possessed your lips and tongue with his own. Moving from you lips, he went to your neck as he bit and sucked at the sensitive flesh leaving love bites from your neck to your shoulder. You fought the urge to moan as he positioned his nude body between your legs. As you laid there and allowed him to give you more open mouthed kisses on your neck, he cupped your right breast roughly. Immediately you sensed his excitement was increasing. The manner in which he groped your breast and the way his grinding increased in pace, you knew he would not be doing foreplay much longer.

You could feel Ivar’s erection pressed tightly against your mound as he began to breathe erratically. As you caressed his back, you could practically feel his excitement as heart thumped against you bare breasts. Crashing his lips to yours again, he slipped his hand in-between your bodies and grabbed his member. As his lips devoured yours, he slowly dragged his cock against your opening that was very ready for him. Despite how you felt about Ivar, the things he did always made your body betray you. It was as if your body had a mind of it’s own when it came to responding to your husband’s touch.

“Y/N.” Ivar whispered as his face was hovering over yours. “Open your eyes for me.

As you slowly opened your eyes despite not wanting to, Ivar continued to rub himself against your entrance - you tried your best to think of Hvitserk.

“That is better.” He said as he bit his lip to contain a moan. “Do not take your eyes off me. Alright?”

He gave you another quick kiss on your forehead as he pushed the tip of his member into your hot and slick entrance.

“Gods! I have missed you being in my arms.” He moaned as he gave you another long kiss.

As he was kissing you, Ivar took advantage of that moment to push himself inside you fully. In the midst of kissing him, you moaned into his mouth as the pain and pleasure overtook you. He broke the kiss and looked into your eyes before pressing his forehead to yours.

“That is it Y/N. Keep looking at me.” He said in a hushed tone. “I am going to give you a baby tonight.” He added before planting a kiss to your neck.

Ivar picked up the pace of his thrusting as he rested against your body fully. As he erotically thrust his cock deeply into you, he kissed you passionately. You both became covered in sweat within seconds. Though you tried your best to turn you head from him, your husband was relentless. His deep pounding of your womanhood and his breathless kisses quickly brought the familiar tingling to your pelvis. Intense heat rushed to your walls and clit and your orgasm began to build with sweet aching.

“Hvitserk.” You said in your mind - picturing the golden haired Ragnarsson on top of you.

“Y/N, I’m going to cum for you.” Ivar grunted against you ear.

As his hips began to move faster, he gripped your waist and placed is face against your cheek. He whimpered things in his native tongue as his orgasm took over his movements. You felt his cock twitch and then felt his hips stutter their pace as he groaned in your ear again. Ivar began pumping his hips frantically as his cock finally erupted within you - sending months of pent up seed deep within you.

The pace and the friction of his thrusts made your orgasm meet his. As you felt yourself go and your weak legs began to shake, you screamed out in ecstasy. It was one of your most intense orgasms ever as you envisioned Hvitserk on top of you instead of Ivar. Your husband’s orgasm lasted longer than yours as he kept thrusting long after your high had washed over you. He finally stopped moving and collapsed on top of you - hair and body wet as if someone had doused him with water.

“I love you Y/N.” He whispered breathlessly before drifting off to sleep.

__________

You were able to convince Ivar to move Hvitserk to his side prior to them leaving for the battle against King Kol Oddsson. Not only did your husband do as you asked willingly, he never questioned your reasoning or your inquisitiveness. He also informed you that after the battle, they were to head immediately into their raiding of the new lands, so you knew you would not see them again for a long while.

During their absence, you fell very ill. At first you ignored it and did your duties as always, hoping it would clear on it’s own. However, a few months later, it was still there and worse than before. You soon became too sick and weak to leave the estate so a healer had to be summoned by a servant to examine you in your chamber.

“You are not ill my dear woman, you are with child.” The excited old healer said as she finished examining you in your chamber. “At least three months along from the looks of it.”

“Tell no one of this!” You angrily demanded.

“Yes, Mistress.” The healer replied with a hint of fear

‘With Child’! The two words echoed in your mind as you began to feel a state of panic you had not felt in a long time. Hvitserk would leave you when he found out that you were carrying Ivar’s child.

How could it be? You had taken your tinctures everyday without fail. The concoction had never failed any woman in your homeland before. In fact, it was so strong that at higher concentrations, it even rendered women permanently infertile. The fact that Ivar had managed to seed you despite this time tested method made your heart sink. You felt as if your God had finally abandoned you for good. To allow you to be seeded by a man such as Ivar was a punishment only God could deliver. Perhaps, you deserved it for getting Herry killed.

Then another thought came to your mind. Your escape! If Ivar was a overly attentive to you now, the addition of a child would make things even worse. How would you be able to sneak out of Kattegat then? You sighed as your laid in your bed with your thoughts racing. How ironic. Despite all your actions, in the end, your husband had gotten his hearts desire. The fact that the men would be returning also crossed your mind. You wondered if you should risk killing the baby in the womb despite the danger to your person.

There were herbs that could accomplish the task but they were hard to find in Kattegat. The one person you knew that could get them, was your mother. However, she only gave them to Heathen women. She did not assist Christian women in destroying their babies in the womb due to God’s command. Since she was your only option and would never give them willingly, you had to be stealthy when you went to her home next.

“I will just steal them.” You affirmed to yourself as you yawned.

As your hand traced your stomach, you had an overwhelming desire to runaway with Hvitserk. How much more could you take of being around Ivar, the man who forced you to kill your first love? A man who also seemed intent on reducing your freedom of movement with each passing month. Your husband was controlling and possessive and it had not improved with time. Perhaps the plans that Hvisterk was making could be rushed somehow…you thought

“I will not be a mother to Ivar’s seed. He is wicked to the core and his children will be no different.” You said to yourself.

________________

“What do you mean?” You shouted at your mother in her living room.

You didn’t know what to do at her revelation. What was a person to do when they had been so betrayed? How could your own mother have put you in such a bad position? As you paced the floor, she watched you with a serene expression. When you had arrived at her home, she knew immediately that you were with child. She stated that it was noticeable due to your face and breasts rounding out. Then she also confessed that she had not been giving you the tincture as you thought.

“Think of it Y/N, you have not been fair to any of us. Every one of your actions results in other people getting hurt. These games you play with your insane husband had to come to an end eventually. I do not like him anymore than you do but we are stuck. The sooner you learn to adjust and accept it, the better it will be for everyone.”

“You lied to me mother!” You screamed. “You told me you were giving me what I asked for and now look at me. Nearly four months along with a evil man’s child!”

“I’m sorry I tricked dear you but it was the only way. Your decision making is getting people hurt. Look at what happened to poor Herry.”

“Don’t you dare bring up his name you……you witch!” You seethed as tears fell. “He was my heart and I would have done anything to prevent what happened if I could have. How dare you? You are a cruel woman and I do not ever wish to see you again. Do you hear me? Never!”

With that you stormed out of your mother’s home determined to cut her out of your life. She had only pretended to understand your need for the contraceptive tinctures. Every last one of the vials she had been sending her thrall to deliver merely contained a wellness concoction. It was her fault you were now with child for a man you wanted to kill half the time. No matter, you would figure things out on your own.

_______________

Over the next few weeks you tried everything to get the child out of your body. Since you could not gain help from your mother nor go to any healers, you tried your own remedies. You first tried to throw yourself down some stairs - which only resulted in a very bruised body and a sprained wrist. The next thing you attempted was to find Pennyroyal leaves on Ivar’s massive property. Though you lucked out and found some, it was a highly dangerous and toxic plant. The wrong dosage and you would die right along with the baby in your womb.

Still, you risked it. Unfortunately, all you earned for your careful dosing was two weeks in bed with a fever, cramps, fatigue and light bleeding from your private area. When the bleeding had occurred, you were initially very happy because you thought for certain that the baby would pass out of your body. However, the bleeding lasted only three days and stopped without anything else occurring.

While you were you were still recovering in bed, Ivar and the other men all returned to Kattegat. When he did not see you come to greet him at the docks, he was beyond livid. Despite his servants and thralls trying to speak to him, he shut them all down. Your husband returned to the estate in a violent mood as he set off looking for you. Finally, the eldest of his servants was able to calm him and finally get him to listen to what was occurring. All anyone knew was that you were sick and being cared for by healers, so that is what she told Ivar.

You had made sure that the healers kept their mouths shut and the two thralls who attended you in the chamber were threatened to keep quiet as well. A very concerned Ivar burst through the doors of your chambers without first taking his bath or eating.

“What is the matter with my wife?” He demanded

The healer that had been asleep by your side, rubbed his eyes and asked your husband to calm himself.

“Prince Ivar welcome. I have been caring for your wife due to her having severe symptoms. She is with child you see and it seems–”

Ivar’s blue eyes widened. He grabbed hold of the man’s tunic tightly as he tried to absorb the words.

“Say that again.” Ivar demanded.

“Your wife, she is with child. She has been suffering great maladies and other symptoms but other than that, she is well.”

Ivar rushed to your side as you slept and gazed at you with overwhelming happiness washing over him. He gently lifted the furs that were on you to get a better look at your form. As his eyes beheld your belly, that was quite rounded since you were nearing five months, Ivar’s eyes welled with tears. He then glanced at your face, which appeared peaceful in your slumbering state, before he got on the bed beside you. Your husband cuddled close to you and remained there a while, caressing you while you slept.

_____________

Three weeks later, you found yourself trying to not lose yet another good man. Hvitserk was enraged as you expected and not willing to be around you any longer.

“I will not come around you again and I want you to avoid me as well.” An angry Hvitserk said as the two of you stood in the courtyard

He had packed all his things from Ivar’s estate and was planning to spend his time in Ubbe and Torvi’s home. Since his home was being renovated, he would be at his elder brother’s place a good while.

“Please believe me when I say it is not wanted nor was it intentional.” You said with desperation.

Hvitserk glanced at you with fury in his eyes for a short moment before throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

No matter how much you asked him to calm down and look at you, he would not. He shook his head and refused to stand still. Even when you begged, he would not look you in the eyes again as he clenched his teeth and paced.

“I do not wish to listen to your stories any further. Why I am even here right now…I do not even know.”

“Hvitty, please.” You said on the verge of tears. “I did not mean for any of this to happen. My mother she–”

“I do not care for your excuses Y/N.” He interrupted. “You have hurt me more than I even care to say. Just stay with your husband! It is where you belong now. I must move on with my life and find a woman who can make me happy. You are surely not that person from what I can see.”

The words cut like a knife as you stood in front of the man you cared for whilst with child for his brother that you hated. It was a pathetic situation and you wished you had powers to change it all.

“Goodbye Y/N.” Hvisterk said without looking at you. “I will try to avoid you at all cost. Please do not make a scene by attempting to speak to me anytime we meet at events. When we gather as a family, I will keep my words short and curteous.”

With that, Hvitserk left you alone in the courtyard without a formal goodbye or even a second glance.

_____________

Ivar’s child would not be contained any longer. As you laid on your back trying to find comfort in your prayer, you could feel the tension in your hips and pelvic region as your contractions got closer together. Your heart raced as if you had just finished sprinting from one side of Kattegat to the other. Truly the pain was making it quite difficult to catch your breath as the midwives kept ordering you to breathe better.

“Breathe better? How the hell am I supposed to do that when I am in so much pain?”You thought as you cursed the women in your mind.

As sweat drenched your body, you realized that it was going to be a very difficult delivery, despite never birthing a child before. Ivar burst into the room upon his crutch and stood by one of the midwives for a moment. He felt guilt as he looked at you and realized how much discomfort you were in - your white gown practically see through from all your sweating.

Without hesitating further, he sat beside you on the bed and placed down his crutch. As you sat up with your legs wide open, you grunted as a wave of pain took over you for what seemed like an eternity. You turned and glanced at Ivar. If you had been yourself, you would have told him to sit in the chair but you were in too much pain to fuss with anyone. You could not believe that some women went through such pain ten or more times. This was your first and you wanted to rip the skin off your own thighs just to take your attention of the pain coming form between your legs. Even your back hurt as if someone had kicked you ferociously.

Ivar positioned you in front of him with no resistance from coming from you. You just wanted the baby to come out so you could have some relief. Finally, one of the midwives took a look under the linen sheet they had placed over your lower body for modesty.

“It looks like you will be ready to push soon.” She said as she smiled at you.

With that, she spread your legs apart, as wide as she could get them and placed a hand at the bottom of your opening. Feeling around, she looked up at you and smiled.

“The head has crowned. With three to five good pushed, you ought to work it out in no time.”

Ivar smiled at the news and kissed your sweat soaked cheek. However, you were too engrossed in your pain to even notice. You felt the worst amount of pain and burning coming from your private area as the baby’s head stretched your entrance to it’s limits. It was as if someone was holding both sides of your vagina and attempting to pull it in opposite directions.

“It hurts too much!” You shouted.

But you were in too much pain. No one heard a thing except a string of jumbled words that made no sense. Ivar held you close as you leaned against his chest, tossing your head from one side to the next as the pain became worse. The midwives would not allow you to push until they were ready and it was taking all your willpower to listen to them. Your mother suddenly entered with Elizabeth in tow. Grabbing a clean cloth, your mother took a seat beside you on the bed and began wiping your face. As she did so, you made sure to shoot her a glare, pain or not.

After all, it was her fault you were in the position you were in in first place. Her tricking you was wicked enough but to refuse to help you terminate the baby was even worse. She had forced your hand and you did not appreciate it at all.

“Why are you here?” You angrily snapped in-between the bouts of pain. “Get out!”

“She is your mother Y/N.” Ivar said as he tried to calm you.

“Mother, I want you to get out before I–.”

A massive sharp pain hit you and your words caught in your throat. Just then, someone you never expected to see again entered. Hvitserk walked in despite two female thralls attempting to stop him. His eyes went wide when he saw you and the state you were in. Without a word to anyone, he knelt at your bedside and took your hand in his. You could not believe that he was there in the flesh. After what he had said when you last saw him in the courtyard, you were certain that he hated you.

“What is the matter with her?” A worried Hvitserk asked Ivar. “She appears too weak.”

Your husband, who was scared despite giving the appearance of being calm, looked at his brother with helplessness.

“They will not let her push yet.” He replied.

“May I sit there?” Hvitserk motioned to your mother.

Your mother reluctantly gave up her position beside you in the bed to the worried Ragnarsson. Hvitserk sat beside you straightaway - not caring what Ivar would say or think. Luckily, the stress of the moment actually made your husband more open to having his elder brother around. He feared that you were dying based on your groans and weakening physical state.

“When will you let her push it out?” Ivar asked with concern. “She grows weaker by the minute.” He added nervously.

Hvitserk’s mind raced. If you were to die childbirth, he would never be able to forgive his brother. He knew that you never wanted to have children with Ivar and this was most likely the worst moment of your life. Soothing your head against his shoulder, Hvitserk whispered to you.

“Forgive me.” He said. “Please survive this so we can leave.”

“Okay Mistress, let us try to push this eager baby out.” One of the midwives finally announced loudly as she took her place in-between your legs.

Lifting the sheet, she spread your weak legs wider as you grabbed onto Hvitserk’s hand tightly. Ivar glanced at you and took your other hand. He knew you two were still not close despite you being with child, but he believed that once you saw the baby, things would change.

“Would you look at that. The head is nearly out on it’s own. It should take only a few pushes to get this little one free.” Another midwife said as she looked over the other’s shoulder.

“Why is there so much blood?” A worried Hvitserk asked as he saw some thralls taking away red stained cloths. “Hey! I am asking you question!” He seethed at the women.

“Calm yourself young Master.” The midwife between your legs said. “It is normal for some women to bleed excessively. She will be fine.”

Hvtiserk did not like her response but relented. He focused on comforting you instead. As he brushed your sweaty forehead with his hand, the elder Ragnarsson gazed at your pained expression. Ivar, who was also sat at your other side pressed his face to yours.

“Come on Y/N.” He said with his lips against your cheek. “You are stronger than even some of the men I know. You cannot not die on me. Please.”

At that moment, Ivar cared more about you leaving him alone in the world than he cared about becoming a father. The thought of you dying was more than he could handle. It frightened him so much that he was relieved that Hvitserk had arrived to share the burden. If not, he would have lost it in front of everyone long ago.

When the midwives finally told you to push, you thought you would not be able to do so, however, your body seemed to work on instinct. The moment you bared down, your muscles and nerves kept the rhythmic contractions going. After the third push, the baby’s head finally hung from your opening.

“Hey! There we are.” The midwife exclaimed. “What a great deal of hair this one has. And as black as a raven’s wing to boot.” The woman added with a laugh.

She then made sure the cord was not around the baby’s neck while you rested. The pain in your body eased a little now that the head had come out. Still you were eager to get it over with. You hated your mother for putting you in the situation and glared at her while she watched nervously over the midwife’s shoulders. As for Elizabeth, she appeared happy, however, she kept stealing glances at Ivar. Despite him rejecting her, your sister still harbored feelings towards him which made the moment that more difficult for her to witness.

After allowing you to rest a while longer, the women instructed you to push again. With five good pushes and Hvitserk practically taking over in encouraging and comforting you the entire time,….everyone finally heard it. Ivar’s child came into the world with a powerful cry that filled the room. He pulled your body to him and held you close as his eyes welled with tears. He could not believe it. The baby that boasted powerful lungs and seemed to please the midwives, was his. All his life the Gods had denied him so much but in that moment, he felt as if he could fight a thousand wars for them on his own.

“Be careful of how you take hold of Y/N. She is in a weakened state and still has more to do.” Hvisterk said as he took you from Ivar and rested your head against his chest.

“Of course.” Ivar replied with his eyes still beholding you with admiration.

“It’s a Princess for your two.” One of the midwives announced.

Ivar was elated as he looked at his brother with his excitement building. Hvitserk smiled and then looked down at you. He wasn’t sure if you had heard the woman but in that moment, he resolved to stick by your side. True, he had been furious with you, but now, none of it mattered. Hvisterk just wanted Ivar out of the picture so that the two of you could be happy. Surprisingly, when the flaxen haired Ragnarsson kissed your forehead, Ivar didn’t get upset. He actually smiled at his elder brother assuming that he was happy for the both of you.

The newborn was set upon a table so the midwives could look it over for any defects.

Ivar suddenly became afraid. His expression changed as he nervously held your hand and glanced to the floor. ‘I’m a cripple. Why did I not think about that fact all this while? He thought to himself. The thing he feared most was punishing a child to go through what he had. Ivar did not want his daughter to be like him and prayed that the Gods did not curse her with his affliction. As for your mother, despite your anger towards her, she put her hand to her mouth as she shed tears of joy at seeing her new grandchild. Utterly soaked in sweat, you were nearly asleep as you rested against Hvitserk, who rocked you gently. Ivar leaned over and kissed your cheek - excitement literately emanating from his very being. The midwife was headed towards him and he could barely contain himself. Ivar was apprehensive at first, but the woman reassured him before she carefully placed the newborn into his trembling hands.

“Meet your newborn daughter.” The old midwife said. “She is a beauty, if I have ever seen one. Strong like an ox too.”

“So she….she is healthy?” He asked with great concern upon his face.

“Not only is she healthy…..she is practically perfect.” The midwife assured him with a wink.

Ivar was relieved and awestruck as he stared at the tiny baby in his arms.

“I cannot believe how small she is.” He exclaimed as he admired her.

Ivar truly felt as if he was dreaming as he glanced over at your weakened frame for a moment. Taking the cord that still connected you and the crying little bundle in his arms, he bit through, severing it. Your husband then spit the blood onto the floor, as was Viking practice. He held his daughter close to his chest and ensured that the swaddling sheets were keeping her warm.

“Look at our daughter Y/N.” He beamed as he leaned closer to you. “She is so beautiful and amazing…like you.” Ivar said before planting a kiss upon your cheek.

You looked at the baby with eyes that were heavy with sleep. You could not believe that the child in Ivar’s arms was yours. It made the moment bittersweet as you tried your best to feel something for the innocent life. But as you glanced at Ivar, you knew the child could never grow into anything good. As you drifted off to sleep, Hvitserk glared at Ivar as he caressed your sweaty forehead. No matter what, he was determined more than ever to take you far away from Kattegat so you two could finally be free of his brother.

______________

People stopped and stared when they spotted Ivar the Boneless riding his horse drawn chariot swiftly through Kattegat. Utterly beside himself with joy, he had left you and his newborn daughter sleeping peacefully back home. Much too happy with his life to sit still, he guided his white horse at top speed while he screamed at the top of his lungs in celebration. He finally had what he had longed for - a happy family of his own.

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

Text

881.

5k Survey VIII

351. Have you ever lost something and never found it? >> Sure. There’s whole parts of myself that I lost and never got back. But also, like, one time I left my favourite flannel in the airport and never got that back. Can’t even get a new one, I think the company stopped selling it. 352. Do you listen to any talk radio shows? >> No. 353. Who do you trust more, your friends or your parents? >> I don’t trust anyone. 354. Would you ever date someone outside of your race or religion? >> I’ve done so. 355. Which of the 7 deadly sins in the worst (gluttony, greed, pride, lust, envy, wrath, sloth)? >> My theory is that Sloth is the most egregious -- all of the other sins are encouraged and tend to proliferate because of slothful individuals (that is, individuals who don’t care to lift a finger to stop wrongdoing when they witness it). Sloth is the sucking mire of complacency, the willingness to turn a blind eye to the suffering of others as long as one’s own comfort is not infringed upon. It’s also the most easy to commit, in my opinion, which makes it a slippery slope.

356. Which one are you most guilty of? >> Sloth, obviously. Why do you think I understand it so well? ~ (Pride has been a big one for me in the past, too.) 357. Are you afraid to be alone with yourself? Do you try to avoid thinking? >> On bad days, I have the contradictory problem of desperately wanting to isolate so no one else has to deal with me (or treat me like shit for being socially unacceptable) but also knowing that being left to my own devices can lead to a toxic cycle of rumination and self-castigation. So, yeah, I don’t like being alone with myself sometimes, but at the same time, what else am I supposed to do? 358. Would you venture to tell someone you loved him or her if they didn’t say it first? >> I have no idea how I would react to this kind of situation. 359. What are you the most sensitive about? >> Gonna skip this one for my own sanity right now. 360. What can you talk about for hours? >> I’m not sure. I’ve never been in the position to talk for hours about something. 361. Do you talk about yourself, other people, or ideas the most? >> Myself, I suppose. Or ideas. Maybe a combination of both. 362. Do you believe that spell casting can work? >> I’m inclined to think so. 363. Are you a fan of The Legend of Zelda games? >> I wouldn’t say that -- I’ve never played any of them and the only reason I know anything about them is because of 1) Sparrow and 2) what I researched after King Crimson arrived on my astral doorstep. My interest is more casual (and more focused on one character in particular) than fan-hood would suggest. 364. What old movie would you go see if it were re-released in the movie theaters? >> I don’t know. I’m fine just watching them at home. 365. Is there a celebrity that you would be too starstruck to talk to if you met them? >> No. I prefer to just talk to them like any other stranger -- a little formally since we’re not on familiar terms, but affably and without making them feel spotlighted. They’re still just people, after all, and all that fawning attention has to be irritating and off-putting. It would be for me, I know that much. 366. Have you ever left a mean unsigned note? >> No. 367. Do you think it’s cheesy to paste things you didn’t write into your diary? >> Of course not. It’s a diary, you do whatever you want with it. The traditions of the commonplace book and the scrapbook are long and storied. (I think of my personal tumblr in those terms, in fact.) 368. What are three things that you try not to think about? >> I can’t think of anything that fits this description. 369. Is casual sex acceptable for you? >> No. 370. What form of sexual protection do you use? >> Not having sex. 371. What is expected of you that you feel is unnatural or not right? >> Just about everything that’s expected of me doesn’t actually apply to me, so. 372. Do you sometimes place your own expectations on other people? >> Sometimes. Like, I expect other people to be more forthright about things, and not expect me to figure it out through arcane social cues that I never learned or cared to follow. Or, I expect people to treat me with more respect and compassion than I sometimes receive. 373. Do you sometimes act overeager to make friends when you are around strangers? >> No, mostly the opposite. 374. Do you take everything that is said literally? >> Not everything, but sometimes I do take things more literally than I’m supposed to. It really just depends on whether I’ve encountered that situation before. 375. Do you take most things others say seriously? >> If I can determine than I’m meant to, yeah. Sometimes I can’t (especially in text). 376. Do you have a quick wit? >> I think I do sometimes. But equally, I have a lot of moments where I think of the funny thing to say long after the moment has passed. 377. Do you believe in the need for political correctness? >> I don’t care about this. 378. Do you have strong opinions and beliefs? >> Not really. I mean, maybe a couple, but generally I feel like I’m more apathetic about things than most. I just don’t have the energy, really. 379. If yes, can you still hang out with and be friends with people who disagree with you? >> Sure, as long as I don’t feel condescended to or otherwise disrespected. And there are some issues that directly affect me that I can’t just overlook -- for example, I can’t be friends with a white supremacist, because fucking duh. 380. Are you uptight? >> That’s not a word I would use for myself. “Neurotic” might apply in some situations, though. 381. Do you sometimes do risky things? >> I mean, maybe. Like not washing my greens before eating them. I just don’t have the executive function, man. 382. Could just about anyone hold your interest in a conversation for at least ten minutes? >> Not “just about anyone”, no. Some people and some subjects just aren’t interesting to me, and that’s the way it goes. 383. Are you self-conscious? >> Yes. I think there was a long time where I wasn’t, where my theory of mind was kind of wonky, and sometimes I miss that carefree-ness. At least let me find a comfortable middle ground, because this hypervigilance is killing me. 384. What would be your ideal destination for a Saturday afternoon? >> I don’t know. 385. Does anyone have a video tape of you doing something embarrassing? >> That’s highly improbable. 386. What is Kevin Smith’s(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kevin_Smith) best movie? >> I liked Dogma a lot. 387. Where do you like to go on Friday or Saturday nights? >> --- 388. Do you like your friends to act the same way all the time or do you accept their moods and changes? >> I accept all people’s moods and changes because I understand that there’s nothing static about being human. Whether I’m willing to personally put up with certain moods and changes depends on the person and their connection to me. 389. Do you often feel like other people are judging you? >> Yes. 390. What do you think other people judge you to be like? >> I don’t want to get into that, it’s just going to be a laundry list of brutally negative adjectives. 391. Are you quick to judge others? >> Nah. 392. When you have a fight with someone do you want to talk about it right away or calm down first and then talk? >> I feel like a rubber band -- torn between my need to get rid of those bad feelings as quickly as possible by unloading them right then and there, and my need to flee and lick my wounds in a dark corner somewhere. In practice, either I end up behaving badly and giving myself more wounds to lick, or I shut down and nothing ever gets resolved (you guessed it: giving myself more wounds to lick). I don’t even know what a good resolution to a conflict looks like anymore. 393. Some say love is a river (according to the old song). What do you say love is? >> Fuck off. 394. What is the worst fault a person can have? >> I don’t know. 395. Do you have it? >> Probably. 396. Which do you think has more impact on a person’s character, genetics or environment? >> They both have a significant impact on a person’s character, what are you even asking me. 397. Who was your first best friend? >> --- 398. If you are not best friends anymore, what came between you? >> --- 399. Who have you read a biography about? >> I had a phase where I was really into musician bios, so I read a bunch of those in my early 20s. I’ve also read at least a few of Maya Angelou’s bios, and Tina Turner’s, because my father had them in the house when I was a child and I tended to just read everything within reach. 400. What would your own autobiography be called? >> No.

#surveys #survey #5000 question survey

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eulaliasims · 7 years

Text

Late-ass replies today~. Defaults, name references, ~*~and more~*~!

@soloriya replied to your photoset “Irene: Excuse me, these kids are in the way of me ignoring my mother....”

fishhhh!!! xDDD wcif it, pretty please?? :)

For some reason I thought it was a default from Pescado, but I can’t actually find it anywhere and the file doesn’t have a creator’s name on it. D: Does anyone else know where the fish as the pillow fight pillow default replacement is from?

If no one has a link to it, just poke me and I’ll upload it for you!

@simsllama replied to your post “@dirk-dreamer replied to your photoset “Three rolled a want to go on...”

Your family photo is so cool! How did you make them stare at Emilio?

Fourth Wall Options! ‘Look At Me’, then just angle the camera so they’re looking where I want them to look. :)

@simblu replied to your photoset

How did you come up with the name Chiana?

She's named after a character from Farscape (which, if you have never watched it, I think you'd probably enjoy! Some episodes are a helluva trip).

All of Clara's kids are named after characters from different sci-fi universes--Mara Jade from the Star Wars EU, Gaila from Star Trek, Chiana, and Gaius Baltar from Battlestar Galactica. All names borrowed at random, really (Gaius Baltar is a bit of a shit, so that was possibly not my best choice).

@phinae-simblr replied to your photoset

I will miss this pinguin in my tropical hood. It's so cute.

It is really cute! Sometimes weird, but really cute. Come on, Maxis, if the penguin can talk how come it can’t come by the tropical hoods? There’s a real penguin that lives in the Galapagos--precedent!

@nerianasims replied to your post “@didilysims replied to your photoset Did tumblr...”

Save as draft. Then "edit" without changing anything and save as draft again before publishing. That's what I always do and I don't think my captions have ever been eaten.

Thanks! I’ll keep that in mind next time I use the captions. :D

@didilysims replied to your post “@didilysims replied to your photoset Did tumblr...”

I don't know if there's a rhyme or reason. It's only eaten mine once that I know of, but I rarely caption things. Sometimes (especially when my internet or tumblr is acting up) I write a post in a document to copy over to the post, to have a copy in case anything goes wrong. You could do that with captions too, but that's kind of a hassle.

Yeah, I usually make a temporary copy of longer posts just because I’m paranoid (and I’ve had posts eaten when my internet is being wonky). I might start doing it with captions too, but like you say, it’s kind of a hassle. Ahhh, Tumblr...

didilysims replied to your photoset

They're even all mostly looking in the right direction!

I know, I was so proud of them! Except for Jules and Castor, who couldn’t figure out how to sit the heck down. :P

didilysims replied to your photoset “Can’t leave out Emilio!”

Claire's face is perfect. :D

She’s not having it any of these antics! I love her and Emilio’s friendship--they’re friends, but at the same time it seems like they can barely stand each other. :P

#replies #wcif #more replies below the jump

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most-likely-fandom · 7 years

Text

And I Miss Space

Pairing: Keith/Lance

Words: 28,098

COMPLETE

Ao3

Team Voltron has returned to Earth. The universe is safe and now they can get back to their normal lives. After being gone for so long though, how easy is it to go back to "normal"?

Keith can't sleep on Earth. Neither can Lance. When they run into each other at a diner they end up spending a lot more of their nights together than they ever thought they would.

A/N: As I said, here it is now up for easier viewing on Tumblr. I think the formatting may be a bit wonky, but I hope you enjoy!

Sleep was but a dream to Keith. Too bad one needed to actually be asleep to have one of those.

No, no. There were daydreams too, weren't there? Too bad it wasn't daytime.

How about a hope? A goal? Those were dreams. When he was younger he'd dreamed of being a pilot or shooting for the stars. When he had been really young, he'd wanted to touch the stars. Actually hold one of the celestial bodies in the palm of his hand and watch it twinkle and glimmer.

But he'd already been a pilot and already seen the stars. Seen so many stars he couldn't even count. Seen stars beyond any someone could find from Earth. Sure, it was nothing close to holding one in his hand - that was impossible no matter the universe he was in - but he'd been there and seen them and achieved all of his goals and hopes for his future.

Well, most of them anyway.

When he was younger, he'd also dreamed of having a family. Keith had thought that perhaps with time he could have that too. Him and his team were pretty close, or had been when they'd still been a team. When the universe still needed saving.

Sometimes in his room in the Castle of Lions, Keith would lie awake, much as he was accustomed in doing now, and wonder if his team truly was a family to him. It had been the closest thing he'd ever had, at least.

But Keith could never trust someone so wholly. Yeah, he'd given his team his trust, more than he'd ever given anyone, but it still wasn't enough. He'd always been too far apart from them to really make any sort of connection off the battlefield because he just couldn't do it. He couldn't break down everything he had built, all the walls inside, to try to let them in in some way.

Lance had resented him for it. Hunk had felt sorry for him. Pidge had been smart enough to stay well away. Allura did only enough to ensure the formation of Voltron and the safety of the universe. Coran was always busy enough with Lance or Pidge or Hunk.

Shiro- Well, Shiro was always Shiro. He had tried. But, in the end, he'd given up like everyone else. He still checked up on Keith down there on Earth, but Keith knew it was more obligation than anything. They'd been close once and Shiro knew Keith had nowhere else to turn.

So yeah, all of Keith’s dreams couldn't come true. Maybe if they had saved the universe a little slower or maybe if they'd decided to continue helping every planet with every little struggle, making their adventures last to the end of their days… maybe they really could have been a family.

But who was Keith kidding? If he had planned to actually let them in he would have done it long ago. At least now his teammates we're with their families. At least now they weren't held up on a ship, miserable and missing Earth.

Keith had never really missed earth. Not like the others. Maybe the familiarity of it, but Keith was used to adapting to strange places.

Keith used to think of Earth as a sort of limbo. Staying down there, in the soil, in the homes and the Garrison and the desert, it was all in the way of achieving what he hoped for in his life. He couldn't dream of living there among the rocks when the stars beckoned him each night. Earth was in the way of his dreams.

Now Keith knew he was right. Earth was limbo. But now, a different limbo. He had achieved his dreams, yet he still ended up back here. It wasn't yearning to be elsewhere anymore; it was knowing there was elsewhere but unable to go. It was not having an elsewhere to go and no dreams to follow.

Keith was active. He had to be doing something or he would fry out by simply staying in place. He had to run away from his foster homes or get good grades to stay in them. He had to do his best at the Garrison so he could become a pilot and maybe even one day touch the stars. He had to get away from the Garrison so he could find his friend. He had to figure out what that strange presence was that he could feel in that cave. He had to track down Red. It all became a blur then. He just had to save the universe. It was doing something. It was the act of being productive.

He had to run. Train. Learn. Do something. Anything.

He'd tried on many occasions to hardwire his brain to include 'sleep’ as one of those productive things, but it never listened. That wasn't enough. There had to be something else.

It had been easier to sleep in space, always in the mind that there would be more to do, another planet to save, more Galra to take down, the next he woke up. Here on Earth it was difficult. Here he had no promise of purpose.

Keith had taken a run on this particular night, determined to exhaust himself so he would have no choice but to sleep. Somehow he'd ended up in a 24 hour diner, one that he always eventually found himself in because it was the only thing open. It looked like any other diner, really. Windows surrounding it and bright lights to welcome night dwellers. It was nearly two in the morning. Not bad, really. He'd still rather be asleep though.

He took care of his body. When he wanted food, he ate. When he needed to blow off steam, he hit the training area or, in Earth’s case, the gym. When he needed rest, he at least laid down for a while.

There were times Keith got really focused on something and he simply forgot. He was a forgetful person when he slipped into his zone of productivity. But, all in all, Keith knew he could take care of himself. He'd been doing it for well over the time he'd been a part of Voltron. Or in the desert. Or even in the Garrison.

It wasn't that Keith didn't want to or didn't care. He really couldn't sleep. And if that wasn't the most annoying thing in the world, he didn't know what was.

Tossing and turning in bed. Almost dropping off then suddenly jerking awake for who knows what reason. Waking up after only two hours of sleep not because of an alarm or anything but because your body just didn't like the idea of being idle any longer.

Those were real annoyances. And then there were the traits that came with sleep deprivation. Tripping over things. Forgetting your train of thought or certain words. Just being slower on the uptake of things. Keith’s lack of sleep rarely altered him in any drastic way, but if it got really bad these annoyances would crop up and make his life a living hell.

But there he was again, listing all the reasons why he really should get to sleep. Keith nibbled on a piece of toast he had ordered, sitting at the bar stool that sat at the front counter of the diner. He grimaced down at it. At least it wasn't coffee. That's just what he needed to get to sleep. Caffeine.

No matter how many times he would tell himself these things, the annoyances and grievances that his lack of sleep would bring, it never seemed to slow down his body. He was constantly in motion. Always geared for a run or a midnight movie or to jump out of bed at the Castle’s alarms.

He never thought he would miss those stupid obnoxious alarms.

Keith tapped his foot on the little bar around the base of the stool. He was totally wired. His skin was buzzing but his limbs were exhausted. Dear God, he just wanted sleep.

He should get home. He would be exhausted soon enough to be able to crash, right? Quiznak, he sure hoped.

Keith pushed his plate away from him and pulled out his wallet. Just when he was about to pull out bills for the meal, or whatever what he'd ordered may be considered, a voice caught his attention. And, if the voice hadn't, his name surely would have.

“Keith?”

Keith jumped, all nerves and electricity in his veins. He looked to his left, where the voice had come from and, sure enough, it was who he thought it would be.

He almost laughed at the irony. Standing there was another dream Keith could have never possibly obtained. It seemed that those were the only two columns for them these days: already achieved and never to be.

“Hey, Lance.”

-/-

Keith had forgotten how long it had been since they'd all come back to earth until he saw Lance. He was so much older. His hair clipped in a more professional manner than the boyish bangs from before and jawline more defined, if that were even possible.

He was still as beautiful as he'd been in space and was so familiar to Keith that, for a moment, he felt at peace. His nerves stopped buzzing. He was okay. Keith could see he was older, but he was still Lance.

But he was different, and not just from the signs of maturity. He had bags under his eyes and sunken cheeks. His smile was weak, tired. And Keith had thought that he wasn't getting enough sleep. It was obvious enough that Lance wasn't getting any either.

When Lance motioned to the spot next to Keith it took a second too long for his brain to catch up. He would blame his fatigue on that one.

“Yeah. Sit.” Keith nodded and turned back into his own seat. He could stay just a bit longer. He looked back at Lance from the corner of his eye.

“Thanks.” Came the answer and Keith wasn't sure he'd heard right. That wasn't the usual Lance McClain attitude. Where were the rivalry comments and mullet jokes? Where was the twenty word sentences that absolutely no one asked for but he gave them anyway because “if you're gonna talk, you might as well do it well!”

Keith was anxious by nature, but he'd never had such a feeling around Lance unless it was about his own insecurities. Lance was a calming presence to him, even though they argued so much. Well, used to argue…

Talking with Lance was normal. He knew what to expect, even when Lance got his blood boiling. It was expected that he would get riled up at Lance’s comments, so, actually, it was a lot less nerve wracking than a lot of other experiences.

This wasn't their normal discussion though. This was running into each other at a diner at two in the morning when they both were obviously lacking on essential sleep.

So they both sat in silence for quite some time. Keith shifted uncomfortably. He was used to silence, but around Lance it was just too weird.

So, surprising to both of them, Keith spoke up. “You visiting Shiro?”

Out of the corner of his eye where Keith still watched Lance, he saw the other’s eyebrows shoot up. “Um, ah, no.”

Keith turned to look at him, a bit surprised. “Really? What are you doing around here then?”

That was when Lance scratched at his neck. Keith remembered the gesture well. It meant Lance was unsure, insecure, hesitant. It was the oddest feeling in the world, but Keith felt like a teenager again. Sucked back in time and shot back out into space. Like any moment the two would be broken from their conversation to jump in their lions and go.

“I moved here a few months ago, actually.” Lance replied and Keith processed the information slower than usual. This time he knew he couldn't just blame the lack of sleep as he tore his sight from that familiar gesture of Lance’s.

“Moved here?” Keith finally said, skeptical as if he hadn't heard right.

Lance nodded, not looking his way. “Yeah, I go to school up here. It's a bit far from the family, but I've been farther, right?” Lance let out a humorless laugh.

Keith could only nod. Now new thoughts were swimming through his head. Lance had been here. For months. He knew Keith lived here, so why hadn't he told him? He must have told Shiro, so why hadn't at least Shiro told him?

“Um,” Lance continued, a bit more chatty now that Keith had gotten conversation started, “So how have you been? I guess it kinda sucks running into you like this before we got together for a coffee or something. It's been a while.”

Keith responded with a noncommittal shrug. “Alright.” He didn't want to elaborate. There wasn't much he wanted to elaborate on from that past year of being back on Earth.

But Lance didn't seem to mind. “Your place is close to here, isn't it? Mine’s way across town. I got an apartment off fifth. It's nice.”

Keith threw him a suspicious glance. “You drove here all the way from there at two in the morning?”

Was it Keith or did Lance turn slightly pink at this? “Um, well, not exactly…”

Keith raised an eyebrow. “Not exactly?”

Lance drummed his fingers across the counter and, before responding, asked a waitress for coffee. Keith waited and when he refused to back down, Lance sighed and slumped.

“Okay,” he finally responded, “I've been maybe walking around a bit? Not much, you know. Just to clear the head and-”

“Wait.” Keith interrupted, giving Lance an unbelieving stare. “You walked all the way here?”

Lance shrugged like he was seriously trying not to make it a big deal. Keith wasn't buying it. “I was walking anyway.”

“Why?” Keith asked incredulously. “Why the hell would you be walking around town at two in the morning?”

“I could ask you the same question.” Lance responded, sticking his nose in the air. “I didn't see your bike outside, so, either you got a new car or you walked too.”

“I don't live halfway across town!” Keith argued.

“You're still walking around at two in the morning. Who says I can't do it too?”

“Logic. Logic says you shouldn't be walking to a diner across town at two in the morning!”

“Pssh. Logic is overrated anyway.”

“Ugh!” Keith buried his face in his hands. He wanted to scream. Why had he wanted to trade nice silent Lance for this one again anyway? “I don't even know how you got out of space alive!”

Then Lance grew quiet again and Keith remembered why. He did not like a silent Lance. He didn't like it at all.

That's when the waitress came over again and laid a mug in front of Lance. The coffee was black and Keith waited for Lance to go for the sugar dispenser. Lance hated black coffee.

But it was like Lance hadn't even noticed the coffee there at all. As Keith watched he noted that Lance’s eye bags were as prominent as ever. Whatever happened to beauty sleep and skin care? Space had changed them all, but Keith had never realized it had changed Lance this much.

Finally Lance reached for the sugar and Keith wanted to smack it away from him. What the hell was he doing drinking coffee when he obviously needed sleep?

“You look exhausted.” He found himself saying and Lance looked up. He shrugged.

“I don't think you can talk.”

Keith wanted to believe that was some sort of dig on his looks, he'd been known for never showing his sleep deprivation on his face after all, but there was a sincerity to Lance's voice that he couldn't miss. Could Lance really see how tired Keith truly was or was he only making assumptions based off the fact that they were both out at two in the morning?

They sat in more silence as Lance sipped on his coffee. Keith’s anxious feelings festered and he began to drum his fingers to the counter again and tap his foot incessantly. Lance was the picture of calm, slumped over his coffee and taking tentative sips. It was quite a swap from their usual demeanours. When Lance was finished they both paid and stood to leave. Outside the night air was brisk and the stars were dull from the ever illuminated planet Earth.

“I guess I'll see you…” Lance said in an attempt of farewell. Keith’s gaze snapped down from the ache the stars wore into his heart to the absurd words he'd just heard Lance utter.

“You can't walk all the way back. Are you crazy?”

“Saying I can't do it?” Lance teased, but his normal jesting tone was sobered by a yawn. Keith frowned and he hoped Lance could see it too.

“I'm saying it's stupid to try. It's late and you're exhausted. My house isn't far; you can crash there.”

Lance’s eyes almost bugged out of his skull at this. “What? I can't stay at your house!”

Keith planted his hands on his hips. “And why not?”

Lance immediately looked away and Keith narrowed his eyes. He crossed his arms in front of him and waited for a decent reply, in which he never got.

Lance crossed his arms too and shook his head. “Nope. Nah uh. I'm just gonna walk home and pretend I never saw you or your mullet tonight.”

“You're such a child.” Keith rolled his eyes. “Fine. If you seriously want to go back to your place, be my guest. But I'll take you on my bike.”

“No, really, Keith-" Lance tried to protest, but Keith wasn't having any of it.

“I'm not letting you wander town at this hour alone. I don't think you understand that Earth has hostiles just like space did. And we don't have gigantic mechatronic lions or our bayards here to protect us.”

Lance went silent again, except this time it wasn't so much that horrible, dead weight, heart stopped, silence of Lance’s, but one that merely showed that he was out of argument. Keith felt victory in his veins and turned on his heel, beckoning Lance to follow.

It wasn't a short walk, but it was a lot more pleasant than the walk to the diner had been with another person at his side.

-/-

Lance had been to Keith’s place before. Except, he'd never been to Keith’s place when it seemed as though Keith had not been expecting company.

What was to be said of the place? Sparse furniture and minimal personal belongings to start with. Dishes in the sink, trash on the counters, unfolded blankets on the couch, were all things Lance had not been expecting from King Moody and Broody and perfect in everything he did.

“When’s the last time you cleaned this place?” Lance asked, eyeing the counters. He saw Keith eye them too before he entered the living room.

“Let me just find my keys.” He said, ignoring Lance's question and shuffling through his living room. It was odd to watch. Not only the horrible domesticity of seeing Keith of all people in a normal everyday looking apartment, but the so out of place behavior that Keith had been displaying all night. No, all morning? Yeah, Lance hated being up at two in the morning. Crap, it was three now, wasn't it?

Why was Keith up at all? He was obviously tired. He may not have the full baggage set that Lance did under his eyes, but it was easy to tell in other ways. The sluggish way he moved. The silent, tiny yawns he bit into his knuckled fists. It all made Lance even more tired watching it. Which was not good. At all.

But why did Keith seem so jittery if he was this exhausted? At the diner his leg would not stop bouncing and his fingers would not stop drumming. When they’d been walking back to Keith’s apartment, Keith had fidgeted relentlessly with his fingers and the hair at the nape of his neck and the edges of his shirt.

Maybe Lance wasn't the only one having nightmares. Or maybe Keith had just had too much coffee before bed.

Lance had never seen him act this way in the castle. Yeah, Keith had been a bit of a training junkie and sometimes Lance would catch him beating up on the gladiators in the middle of their designated “night time” on the ship, but, really, it had never been like this.

Now Lance understood why Keith didn't want him wandering alone like this. Lance really didn't want Keith driving when he was this tired either. He didn't like the idea that Keith had been out at all when he could see now that he was practically moments away from crashing.

So Lance knew what he needed to do.

“Ugghhh.” He groaned and flopped down onto the sofa he'd been standing next to. He landed on the blanket that'd been sprawled over it before him and noted it smelled like Keith. He briefly wondered why humans had such distinct individual smells instead of an identifiable mixture of known odors. Why couldn't he smell someone and go 'Ah, yes. Apple pie with a hint of lavender.’ No. If a human being were to ever smell like something like that there would always be that underlying smell of just them.

“Uh, Lance?” Keith asked and Lance came back to his senses. He looked up, taking his face away from the blanket.

“Too tired.” He declared drowsily and he really didn't need to pretend. “Not moving.”

Keith gave him a funny look then rolled his eyes. “Fine. Crash here. Be right back.”

And with that Keith shuffled away. Lance wandered what he was doing but started nodding off instead. He was thankful when Keith came back, dumping a mound of pillows and blankets on him.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Keith said, looking ready to drop. “Night.” And without another word, Keith disappeared into the next room, supposedly going to bed.

Lance sat up, blinking rapidly. Damn it, he had almost gone to sleep! He had to be more careful about that. Especially if he was going to be spending the night there. If he fell into unconsciousness, who knew what would wake him up.

So, sitting up quickly, Lance pitched the pillows and blankets to the opposite side of the couch, avoiding any reason to make himself comfortable for the night. Then he found the remote to the TV and flipped it on, changing channels until he found an interesting station. He hadn't watched Nick At Nite in a while, but The Fresh Prince was calling his name.

Not five minutes later, Lance heard the creaking of a door and turned to find Keith walking in, fully awake as if the drowsiness from before had never happened. Lance furrowed his brows, mostly in confusion, but there was concern there too.

Keith silently came to sit on the side of the couch with all the blankets and pillows, in no time burrowing himself beneath the mound like a fort made for one. Without breaking his gaze from the screen of the TV he asked, “So what are we watching?”

“Um…” Lance responded intelligently before turning back to the screen as well. “Fresh Prince of Bel Air.”

In his perifory he saw Keith nod. It shook the entire structure around him. And once again they lapsed into silence. Even after all of their time in space together, Lance still thought this was possibly the most they had gone without arguing. Or without speaking at all. It wasn't a part of their dynamic, but, to be honest, Lance kind of wished it was. Sure their silences could get uncomfortable and sometimes just plain sad, but if it was always something like this, how it was now, Lance thought he could get used to it.

Three turned to four which eventually carried into five. It was five in the morning and neither of them had slept. They both felt its pull though. Lance wished he had another coffee.

Between their silences they had talked quietly to one another, as if afraid to break the thin reality of the early morning hours. They'd scooted closer on the couch to hear each other. Not close enough to be uncomfortable or anything, but at a distance where whispers were shared in a sort of conspiratorial murmur. They had been silently watching Friends which had come after The Fresh Prince, but anything the characters said went into one ear and out the other as Lance watched. By this time it almost felt like a dream to be there. In Keith's apartment. Watching old reruns at five in the morning.

A dream Lance could never possibly obtain.

And when Keith’s head fell against his shoulder, sound asleep, it only confirmed it.

“Yeah.” Lance breathed, careful not to stir the sleeping figure. “Definitely a dream.”

-/-

When morning came, Lance couldn't believe the thing he had been so sure to be a dream was, in fact, real.

Sure, it wasn't really morning. It was now two in the afternoon according to the wall clock on the opposite side of the room. Weird, not many people kept those around anymore. He never expected Keith to use one.

But that only brought on the memories from the previous night. Finding Keith in that random diner. Walking back to Keith’s apartment. Watching TV with him until Keith had fallen asleep on his shoulder. None of it was a dream.

But most of all, Lance had gotten sleep as well. Dreamless sleep. Nightmareless sleep. Decent, pleasant, peaceful sleep.

And a lot of it too.

It had to be a dream. He was going to wake up shivering and scared in his own bed soon enough. The world couldn't be this nice to him.

Then someone stirred beside him and Lance’s heart leaped.

Please let the world be this nice to me.

And then arose Keith, bed headed, blurry eyed, soft morning Keith. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head before turning his way, lifting a hand to stifle the yawn. When he saw Lance he froze midway.

Lance smiled, unsure of himself, and lifted a hand. “Hey.”

Keith blinked, his mind probably catching up from just being asleep, before he croaked out a “Hey,” too. Then, looking mortified of his own unused voice, startled his frozen hand to slap over his mouth where it had been headed before. His cheeks colored just the slightest bit.

Lance chuckled, but it came out nothing like his usual teasing bit. Lance’s eyes widened and his face colored a bit too. He looked away and mumbled a quick “Morning.”

There was shifting again next to him and Keith emerged from his blanket cave and off of the couch, on a mission to the kitchen it looked. Lance squacked in offense and immediately went after.

“Excuse!” He demanded, coming around the corner to find Keith at the coffee machine. “I greet you good morning and you repay by walking away? What poor etiquette! Didn't your momma teach you any manners?”

Keith gave him a look. “Really, Lance?”

It only took Lance a second to recognize his mistake and simultaneously flinch at it. “Oh. Shit, ouch. Sorry, man.”

“Whatever. Besides, you never said it was a good morning. You just said 'morning'.” Keith pointed out, much to Lance’s displeasure.

“It's implied, Keith. Geez, we really gotta work on your people skills.”

At this Keith shrugged and went back to preparing coffee. At the sight of the coffee Lance was reminded of his night, or, more specifically, the morning he had slept away.

He supposed he couldn't have nightmares every night, but it was still strange how convenient it was that they'd decided not to bother him that particular one. Maybe it was the unfamiliar territory he was in or the mediocre couch he'd slept on. Maybe it was having another living breathing person in the room.

Lance shook away that idea. No, he refused to believe it was Keith of all people that had helped with his nightmares. Even after everything they'd been together for out in space and everything Lance had learned about him, about Lance’s feelings toward him, it couldn't be Keith.

Lance was roused from his inner turmoil by the sound of ceramic sliding against the countertop. When he looked down there was a mug of black coffee before him, and a pot of sugar and a jug of milk were being slid his way too.

“I don't know how you like it.” Keith said, going to pick up his own drink. “This is one beverage I wish we could have had in space.”

“Dude, if there had been coffee in space I bet we could have done all the saving in half the time.” Lance said, pouring a bit of milk in his coffee. “If not from the caffeine then from the moral support.”

Keith laughed at that and Lance’s chest inflated. His eyes snapped up, wanting to catch sight of Keith in that moment before either of them remembered themselves.

“If we'd been back in half the time, what do you think we'd be like now?” Lance found himself wondering aloud and thinking to himself as he stared off into space. When he snapped back he caught sight of Keith, a lot paler than before.

Keith shrugged, trying for nonchalance and failing miserably. “I don't really know. I gotta get ready for work though.” He poured the rest of his coffee down the drain and placed the mug in the sink. Then he slid past Lance and out of the kitchen.

Lance frowned. “But it's two in the afternoon.” Then, as if by long last two wires in Lance's brain connected, he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Shit, I'm late for work!”

-/-

Keith didn't have work that day. It was his day off. He couldn't stay in that kitchen any longer though, couldn't face the question of if they had come back to Earth sooner. It hadn't happened and no one could reverse time to make it so, but just thinking about it made Keith feel guilty.

What Lance would have given to come home earlier. What any of them probably would have. Even Allura and Coran just wanted peace throughout the galaxy, even when they had no home of their own to go back to. Keith couldn't share those sentiments and he wouldn't change his mind about that. He couldn't go throwing that in his friends’ faces though. They were back on Earth and they were all grateful for it. Why could Keith just be grateful too?

Lance had left shortly after Keith had excused himself, shouting something about work and being “so in trouble!” Oddly enough though, Lance’s absence did nothing on Keith’s fried nerves. Weird, they had been perfectly smoothed out when he'd woken up this morning. All the way until Lance had asked that question actually. Not even when he'd mentioned Keith’s mom and brought up that whole Galra thing did Keith feel the normal creeping anxiety up his back.

It had been pleasant, peaceful. Keith hadn't slept that well in a while. And the morning - afternoon, whatever - had been just as nice.

But of course Lance had to go and ruin it.

But that wasn't true either. Lance had been joking. And he'd been asking impossible 'what if’ questions for the fun of it. It had been Keith who'd made a deal of it. It had been Keith who'd shut down the conversation, threw up his walls, and stomped out.

Lance was right, which was a statement Keith did not give lightly. He really needed to work on his people skills.

Keith sighed. Fuck. Lance had been there, right there in front of him. In the flesh after, what, months of not seeing any of them? And Keith still couldn't let down his guard for two seconds. He'd never given any of them a chance, even if they'd wanted to be a family.

Of course, with Lance it was slightly different, but Keith knew he would never get there. If he couldn't even trust Shiro completely how was he to let Lance in like that?

Keith had trusted them before. Put all his faith in them. But that had been on the battlefield when it was either that or be killed. They'd had to bond to form Voltron and trust to be able to work as a team. Outside of battle when they'd all lounge about the castle though, it was different. They were friends, sometimes friends who knew way too much about one another due to their close quarters. And maybe the others had been able to form a stronger bond in that area. Lance and Hunk we're practically best friends already, but they'd accepted Pidge just as easily.

Maybe they could have accepted Keith too if he hadn't been so wary. He could have laughed and joked with them. He could have had a good time. But, all the while, every moment, there was that reminder in the back of his head. People never stayed.

It was Keith’s fault they never stayed. He knew this. Because he wouldn't let them in. But even if he did end up letting them in, they would go anyway. They'd see how he truly was. It was better to save himself the heartache.

Keith growled moodily, pulling open one of his dresser drawers to find a shirt. “Save the pity party for two in the morning, Kogane.” He griped to himself. Once he had gotten dressed, Keith went out to the living room to tidy up a bit. Lance had been right. It had been awhile since he'd cleaned. He'd thought about doing it plenty on the nights he couldn't sleep. Nothing more productive than cleaning, right? Instead he went on runs. It was more active. Less time to think.

He'd made it to the couch where the mound of pillows and blankets were when he remembered. His face fell into his hand and he breathed once in and once out. “What an idiot.”

Keith immediately went for the door, picking up his helmet and keys on the way and slammed it shut behind him.

“That idiot still lives across the damn town.” He huffed as he stalked toward the stairs of his apartment building. Then, he stopped and looked down.

“Fuck.” He cursed and turned back to grab his shoes. “Lance better not have gone far.”

-/-

It turned out Keith had forgotten a lot more than just his shoes that he had to lose time accounting for in that apartment. His jacket. Gloves. An extra helmet. A proper pair of pants instead of the pajamas he was currently wearing. He had no problem wearing whatever he wanted in public, but the pants wouldn't have been very practical for his bike, so he changed.

When he finally left he had to speed his way to his bike and then out to the road. He had no idea where Lance’s place was, but Keith would bet anything Lance would be going the same route they'd taken the night before.

And, sure enough, there he was, almost to the diner, actually, when Keith pulled up next to him. Lance looked up, slightly alarmed.

“W-what are you doing?” He sputtered.

“Giving you a ride.” Keith explained, throwing him the other helmet that had been strapped in. “Unless you'd rather walk for however long it is to your place?”

Lance looked sceptical but nodded all the same. “If you're offering, Mullet.” He said with a shrug. Keith patted the seat behind him and noted Lance’s face was a bit red as he stared at the spot. The walk must have taken it out of him.

Lance shook himself and swung his leg around, seating himself behind Keith. In less than a second, Keith was aware how close they were and sucked in a breath. When Lance tentatively wound his arms around his midsection, Keith felt like he'd forgotten how the world worked, much less how to breath or operate the vehicle he was supposed to be driving.

Then it was Keith’s turn to shake himself. Mentally, though. He gave no outward indication of his inner turmoil.

They sped off down the road, both silent for most of the ride apart from Lance’s directions to his place. Keith enjoyed the wind of the ride and the openness of the late afternoon roads. He could go fast and he could feel free. He could escape his worries like this, just as he did on his runs. It wasn't as exerting, but it definitely took enough focus for him to shed himself of the world.

When they arrived at Lance’s apartment, Keith stayed on his bike, one foot down to remain steady. Lance got off and gave back the helmet which Keith strapped back in.

“Thanks, man.” Lance said.

“Don't mention it. You're still gonna be late though.” Keith pointed out. Lance waved it away.

“Nah. When I was walking I had already resigned myself to calling in. I'll tell them I'm sick.”

Keith nodded and thumbed at the bike handle. He didn't want to leave, yet at the same time he did. He knew he was just keeping Lance up. And he knew that he'd already missed his chances a long time ago for this particular dream.

“Alright. I'm going up.” Lance announced. “Thanks again for the ride.”

“Yeah.” Was Keith’s only response as they both waved and he watched Lance disappear into his building. Not long after Keith sped off back to his own place.

Days went by and Keith still wasn't doing too well in the sleep department. He had been surprised, really, when his body hadn't woken him up the other night when Lance had been there. Well, it had, and that had been when he'd gone out to watch television in the living room, but after that. He'd gotten, what, nine hours of sleep? That's practically a miracle. Unheard of in Keith’s recent sleeping habits.

It must have been a fluke. Could it have been a fluke? Yeah, it had to have been, because if it wasn't, that would mean something had caused it.

Like sleeping next to Lance.

Midnight runs and diner visits had been in Keith’s bones for months now. Every night it seemed he would end up at the brightly lit counter with toast or eggs in front of him. Never coffee. Keith stayed away from caffeine these days.

Not once in those nightly visits had Keith seen Lance but that one time days prior. So what exactly brought Lance back that early Thursday morning?

“Man, don't tell me this is a daily thing for you.” Was the first thing Lance said upon entering the diner and Keith wanted to smack him.

“Don't tell me you're going to make it a daily thing yourself.” He retorted, deliberately skirting the question. Lance just shrugged and sat next to him, the same stool as last time. He ordered a coffee and Keith wrinkled his nose.

“It's one in the morning. How can you drink coffee now?” Keith asked, using his fork to poke at the scrambled eggs in front of him. He was never really hungry when he frequented the place, but he had to get something to stay.

“You insult my tastes, yet you sit there with ketchup on your eggs.” Lance scoffed.

“Hey, they're good.” Keith protested, pointing his fork in Lance’s direction now.

“I am disgusted.” Lance said, lifting his head away. Keith rolled his eyes when Lance turned back with a smile on his face. “Alright,” he said, “But, seriously dude, do you come here like all the time or is our timing just that good?”

Keith ducked his head and cleared his throat. “Well, it's not that weird.” He mumbled, knowing full well that wandering away from his house this late so frequently was, in fact, weird.

Lance paused. Then, “Wait, seriously?”

Keith said nothing, determined to not give Lance any more ammunition than he already had.

“That is insane.” Lance decided. “Do you ever sleep?”

Keith huffed. “What about you? You're here too.” That shut Lance up. Keith almost felt bad about it, if he hadn't been so relieved the conversation had ended.

Finally, Keith decided to just leave. He stood and paid for his meal, earning a look from Lance.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.” Keith responded.

“Alone?” Lance asked, sounding almost alarmed. Keith turned to him, lifting one eyebrow.

“Yeah?”

Lance stood, forgetting his coffee to hold Keith by the shoulders. He wasn't gripping hard, not like the times after battle and Lance was telling him to hold it together or needed someone to hold him together. Lance was just keeping him in place, ensuring eye contact and understanding.

“No offense,” Lance started and Keith was ready to take offense, “But I've seen where you live. I don't judge your choices or anything - well, at least in living arrangement - but I don't think it's wise to be walking alone around there, yah know?”

“I do it all the time, Lance. I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah yeah, that's obvious enough.”

Keith moved, sure he had proven his point. He'd punched Sendak. Sparred with Zarkon. Fought countless Galra. Yeah, it was obvious he could take care of himself.

“Keith, you idiot.” Lance stopped him just as he was pulling out of his grip. His hand was wrapped around Keith’s wrist and Keith almost malfunctioned. His gaze went from the wrist to Lance's face to the wrist again. “You know this is like the exact argument you had with me the other day.”

Keith stopped, recalling the conversation. It did have similarities he supposed…

“I don't live that far. I won't fall asleep on my way back.” Was the only thing Keith could come up with, but Lance was already fishing out his wallet. Once he'd paid he made for the door.

“Come on. Let's go.”

And, even in all Keith’s reluctance, he followed.

-/-

Lance wasn't quite sure how it happened, but the diner became a habit for him. Everytime he went in, there was Keith, sitting in his normal stool, poking at some food he had absolutely no interest in eating.

And, because the diner had become habit, so had sleeping on Keith’s couch.

And, because sleeping on Keith’s couch had, watching TV late with him had too. And because of that, sleeping next to him was now a normal thing.

And so were nightmareless nights.

It was… kind of nice. In the weirdest way.

And there was definitely no arguing that it helped. Some how. Lance liked to think that it was some sort of magic spell over the couch he was sleeping on that gave it the effects of a dreamcatcher. Or maybe the blanket Keith always gave him, the one that smelled like its owner.

Actually. No, nevermind. He retracted that statement. It was definitely the couch. Not the blanket and certainly not the person sleeping next to him. Nope. Never.

It was nice getting sleep for a change. Oddly enough, he couldn't remember having such restful sleep since… well, since the castle ship. He supposed it must have been because of their everyday happenings aboard that ship. It was battle or training or planning twenty four/seven when they'd been in space - or whatever time frame they'd used (Altean time wasn't twenty four/seven). Even after the years he'd spent on that ship he still didn't get it.

But now that they were back on Earth, living the lives of civilians, things were different. He dreamed of planets and alien species. He dreamed of Blue’s comforting presence, one he would never feel again. Those were the good dreams, if not a little bittersweet.

The nightmares were a lot more confusing.

Fighting for his life. Fighting for his friends’ lives and the lives of alien species, whole planets, the universe. All that responsibility crashing onto their shoulders, resting on one battle. Then another battle. Each battle the fight of everyone’s lives.

He dreamed of things that hadn't come true too. His friends’ deaths. Blue roaring in pain. Dying without ever getting to see his family again.

Whenever Lance had felt out of it out there, he'd always gone to Blue. Blue understood. Blue was the most comforting presence in possibly all of Lance’s life. She rivaled even his own mother for the position, though it was still a toss up for the most part.

When he would have bad dreams in the castle, he would go to Blue, just like he used to crawl into his parents’ bed as a little kid. It was still different though. His mother worried so much over him, especially now that he was back after years of being missing. Lance hated making her worry. She already had so much on her plate.

Blue was different. They were linked in a way that was just unlike anything else. Blue could be concerned, but she didn't worry. She knew Lance and she trusted him completely, just as he did her. She didn't expect things like explanation, only that he stayed true to himself as the Blue Paladin.

But now Lance didn't have that comfort. Blue was probably millions of galaxies away, sitting in the Castle of Lions and awaiting a day when Voltron was needed by the universe again. Waiting for the day she would pick a new paladin.

Now, here he was. Earthbound and cozying up next to his sworn rival on said rival’s couch at three in the morning. And already he was feeling sleepy. Lance had work in the morning so he would have to get up a lot earlier than the first time he'd slept on Keith’s couch, but if he was already dropping off at three then he thought he had a good chance of getting at least a few hours of sleep.

That is, if he didn't have any nightmares. But he hadn't had a single one in the time he'd slept there, so Lance was pretty confident he could make it.

Then Keith stood up. “I'm going to bed.” He announced without looking at Lance. Lance froze. He wanted to protest, but stopped himself just in time. What the hell would he even protest for?

So when Keith slipped out, Lance was staring at the empty space he had left behind.

This is fine. I can sleep like this. It's the couch, remember? The couch helps me sleep. Not Keith.

But Lance could not deny the uneasiness that crawled over his skin at being alone. The apartment seemed so strange to him now. The corners, darker. The TV’s lights, sharper. The space, emptier.

For once Lance really thought through everything. What was he doing there?

I’m crashing at an old teammate’s apartment so I won’t have bad dreams. He thought, realizing how insane that sounded. That’s like if I had decided to drop in on an old schoolmate or something! I haven’t see Keith in over a year; why the hell would I think it’d be alright to come crash at his place?

Lance was frozen in horror, wanting to pull the blanket around him closer, yet afraid to do so. It wasn’t his blanket and this wasn’t his couch. He had no right to be there.

I’m using Keith. He thought, breathing harder as his mind spiraled in confusing loops and dips. I'm using him so I won't have so many nightmares. Whatever it might be, even if it's just this couch or this blanket or whatever. I'm using him. I'm intruding on his apartment just for my own gain.

And suddenly Lance felt very overwhelmed.

I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be bothering him like this. Yeah we were teammates. Maybe even buddies at one point or another. We went through space and defended the universe together. But that was it. It ended once we got back to Earth. Keith probably didn't want to see me ever again. And here I am-

Lance couldn't stop his mind from spinning. He was close to hyperventilation at one point but only just kept it at bay.

I went back to that diner to see Keith. It had been so long and, oddly enough, I had missed that mullet. I didn't want to lay around and wait for the inevitable sleep and nightmares. I wanted to see Keith again because-

Lance swallowed a huge lob that had built in his throat. He couldn't be here. Those were old feelings. Suppressed feelings from the Garrison. Realized feelings from the castle ship. Not feelings for Earth. For home. For the fucked up existence he was now living.

Keith would never feel the same. Lance was just the burden in his living room. Lance would always just be one of those guys Keith flew around in space with. How could he have forgotten?

Lance couldn't stay there. So, without a word or even a thought to it, he stood and left the apartment.

It was a lot longer walk than to the diner, but Lance didn't care about that extra distance now. He wouldn't be getting any sleep anyway.

-/-

Lance hadn't gone to the diner in a few days. He'd also been having more nightmares. But correlation is not causation, kids.

The correlation still sucked though and Lance was feeling its full effects. He'd been caught yawning too many times in the restaurant he worked at, a part time job while he still attended college. He wanted to do something with his life, even if it wasn't saving people in outer space. On Earth, though, you needed a degree for most of the jobs Lance was considering.

Which was one of Lance’s favorite excuses. If someone asked why he looked so tired, he could just tell them he'd been studying. It wasn't always a lie. Good grades called for sleep deprivation from even the best of students. Especially the best of students.

But it was starting to affect his work, which would only leak into his grades and study too. Lance was a bit worried, but still not worried enough to go to the diner. In fact, the thought of seeing Keith again made him more worried than work or grades. Yeah, Lance never said his priorities were the most sound.

When Hunk showed up that weekend, Lance didn't know if it was blessing or curse that led to it. In the end, there was no arguing that Hunk was a saint himself when Lance found out he'd brought cookies.

“Hunk, you are my lord and savior.” Lance declared upon snatching away the proffered pastries. He opened the container and took one to bite into, melting into the sweet goodness. Mouth still full, Lance thanked his friend.

Hunk pat his shoulder, letting himself into the apartment Lance had blocked the way from after seeing the gift Hunk had brought him. “Yeah, you love me.” Hunk said, smile pulling at his lips as he tried to walk away like he owned the place. He practically did. Even though Hunk lived a bit far and hadn't frequented Lance’s new place many times, any space that was Lance’s was always Hunk’s and vice versa.

Lance went over and plopped his butt on the couch, letting Hunk put his stuff on the kitchen table before making his way back into the room. When Hunk looked down on him, sprawled across the sofa, Lance sighed.

“Huuuunk, I don't want to get up!” he whined and Hunk rolled his eyes.

“I've been here for two minutes, Lance. You can't play gracious host for even that long?”

“Pssh!” Lance waved his arm at the absurd comment. “I don't need to play host with you.”

“Yeah,” Hunk agreed, moving forward to lift Lance partially off the couch; Lance squawked indignantly, “But you could at least sit up and give me room.” Then Hunk sat down, dropping Lance again so that he was lounging half in his lap. Lance was cool with that and crossed his arms behind his head to show how comfortable he was.

“Why would I do that when you just do it for me anyway?” Lance asked, teasing. Hunk shook his head and dug around for the remote, knowing Lance enough to look in the couch cushions before the coffee table. When he'd procured it from the crevices which it'd hid, he started to channel surf.

“What do you want to watch?” He asked and Lance thought for a second before shrugging. It was easy hanging out with Hunk. They were best friends. He'd known Hunk for as long as he could remember and they had a bond that surpassed even his and Blue’s in some ways.

So lounging around, watching TV or chatting was completely normal to them. No catching up required. If it was important enough to say it, they just would.

Which was why the difficulty in which Lance’s brimming question was so confusing to him. He told Hunk pretty much anything and everything. He’d always been the one Lance had gone to when he’d needed human comfort aboard the castle ship and they’d shared their homesickness together. Their relationship went from the most serious to the most trivial; sometimes even in the blink of an eye if the situation called for it.

And, one of the best parts, they just knew each other. They could each tell when something was up with the other. They could sit in peaceable silence. And they could spend a whole hour passing Lance’s phone back and forth as Lance showed his friend the memes he was scrolling through online, as all the while they laughed at Wipe Out on the television.

But, like was just said, they knew each other enough that Hunk immediately caught on when something was bothering his friend.

“You're quiet.” Hunk noted and it only made Lance more worried over what he wanted to ask.

“I'm allowed to be quiet.” He said, finally sitting up from where he'd been laying on Hunk’s lap over these past hours. He turned to look at his friend and could practically see Hunk reading him like a book. “We're quiet sometimes.” Lance tried again.

Hunk shrugged. “I know. It just seemed like something was bugging you.” He said it so cooly, like everything would be fine even if Lance just wanted to blow it all away and never speak of it again. Lance liked that about his friend. He didn't pry. At least, not unless to situation really called for it.

Lance shifted. “Well…” he started, even unsure himself what he was trying to say. Lance chewed on his lip as Hunk gave him his full attention. “Do you ever… miss it? Space? Voltron?”

Hunk apparently, had not been expecting this, as his face contorted in surprise. “Oh.” He said and scratched his head. “Yeah, sometimes.”

Lance let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. “Really?”

“Sure.” Hunk replied. “I miss Allura and Coran. I miss Yellow.”

Lance nodded and sighed. “I miss Blue.”

Hunk smiled. “Yeah, it's not that weird to miss it. And miss her. Voltron was a big part of our lives. I mean, dude, we were flying giant mechanical cats.”

This earned a laugh from Lance. “You're not wrong.” Lance smiled at the thought. Hunk missed it too. The others probably as well. Maybe he'd ask Keith-

Lance frowned. “Do you ever miss anything else about it?”

“Like what?”

Lance shrugged. “I don't know. Like, it was simpler up there. As weird as that sounds.” Lance laughed. “We saved the universe. We formed Voltron. We ate food goo. Now sometimes I don't know what to do.”

Hunk was silent for a second. “I think that's how we all feel. Just, getting used to being back here, on Earth. Trying to fit back in with our families and lives. I missed my sister's wedding and my nephew being born. Pidge's mom was convinced her whole family was dead or missing. I think it'll just take some time for this all to seem real again.”

“We've been back for over a year.” Lance pointed out.

“And we were gone for a lot longer.” Hunk countered. Lance stayed silent.

And silence lapsed between them for a while. Not an awkward one, it was never awkward between them. It wasn't necessarily a normal, calm one either. Thoughts buzzed between them, unspoken.

Eventually, Hunk spoke up. “Sometimes I miss Shay too.”

And Lance’s heart broke for his friend then. And it broke for everyone they would probably never see again. Shay. Allura. Coran. The Lions and every friend they'd made throughout their trek of the universe. They were unreachable to them. Just as if they were dead.

And even for each other. His heart kind of broke a little for his friends still on Earth. He hadn't seen Pidge or Shiro in so long. As if Voltron had never happened. They were so far out of his reach. Even Keith, who'd he'd just seen the other day.

He missed things how they used to be. Lance missed his friends.

But he didn't have to miss his friends, did he? Hunk, Pidge, Shiro, Keith. They were still on Earth. He could see them.

And he knew the first step he would have to take to make that happen.

-/-

Keith wasn't sure what he did wrong.

No, scratch that. He didn't know if he even had done something wrong. But hell if his brain’s going to let him believe that. For some reason, his brain was shouting You fucked up! You fucked up! You fucked up!

And, if anything, it only made his internal clock all the more fucked. Screw sleep, am I right?

Keith rubbed his face, trying to wipe away traces of the permanent fatigue that seemed to have him in its hold. Everything just sucked at the moment. Keith wasn't going to lie. He was exhausted. His feet dragged against the ground. Furniture seemed to find it funny to jump out and trip him up. He was hating life.

He knew he just needed sleep, but knowing something and making it happen were on two completely separate spectrums.

There was only one upside to a day like this.

Keith, finally home from an extra long day at work, practically slammed open his apartment door. He didn't even make it to his own room with his own comfortable bed. Collapsing on the couch, Keith only had time to hug a pillow close to his chest before he dozed off.

It was one of the pillows Lance used when he'd crashed there.

When he woke up, it turned out he'd nearly slept the night away. It was five in the morning now. He could live with that.

Keith let out a sigh. He was content. Comfortable. His living room was dark without the TV to illuminate it and Keith pulled the pillow at his chest closer, serene enough to just stare into the never ending darkness. There were small lights on the cable box and Keith watched a green one blink. On and off. A steady rhythm.

His breathing matched it's rhythm.

Keith stayed there for an hour according to the wall clock, in which he could barely make out the numbers of. It was the longest he'd stayed still in quite some time. It was peaceful.

When he felt like moving after the clock had struck six, Keith didn't fight it. He rose and shuffled to the coffee machine. He deserved a cup; it had been too long.

When he thought about it, it really hadn’t been that long though. Many mornings that he'd successfully had a good night’s sleep when Lance had been there, Keith had rewarded himself by drinking a cup with Lance. He'd actually gotten a new flavor the day before the last time Lance had been there to try out. It was a caramel type thing and, while Keith wasn't too much a fan, he knew Lance loved his sugar.

Too bad Lance had left before he'd gotten to try it. Now it stood as a sort of statement in Keith’s cupboard: Don't get attached. People always leave.

Keith didn't want to brew the thing and he probably never would. It had been something silly he'd gotten spur of the moment at the grocery store and had meant it really more for Lance than himself anyway.

That morning, Keith prepared his coffee black. It was bitter, but he was still too lazy to get the milk and sugar out, even if it was for a treat.

It was his day off. He had too many of those for a busy body like him in his opinion. Off days just gave him more time to pace a hole into the floor. Usually he decided to go to the gym instead, which, currently, was what he’d decided to occupy his entire day with.

But when he got home, he knew there was only one fate in store for him.

He arrived at the diner around one that night. Before going in, he leaned against the building, back to one of the brick walls at the corners where the windows didn't reach, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. It wasn't a habit he was proud of, but it had become a much needed distraction as of late.

After lighting one and taking a long drag, Keith slid down the wall to sit on the cement, arms propped on his knees where he watched the glowing cherry of the stick. His foot stopped tapping and his breath became a little steadier. He was still pumped with adrenaline from the run over there, but he was slowly winding down.

Keith sucked in another puff and let his head lie back against the wall, creating a smoke cloud above his head. He stayed there until he lost track of time, much like he had this morning. Maybe he was getting better. Maybe there was a chance he could get a handle on this sleeping dilemma.

Keith was bringing the cigarette back up to his face when it was abruptly snatched from his fingers, accompanied by an indignant, “What the hell?”

Keith leapt back into his body, all nerves and adrenaline, buzzing all over again. His eyes snapped open and he was ready to jump to his feet if he hadn't seen the figure standing before him.

“Lance?” This wasn't the first time Lance had surprised him with his presence at that diner.

“What is this?” Lance asked, waving around the white paper wrapped tobacco. Keith gave him an incredulous stare.

“You mean the smoke?”

“Yeah, I mean the smoke!” Lance tried to fold his arms, forgetting the cigarette in his grip until it almost burned him. “What are you smoking for?”

Keith was dumbfounded. Was Lance seriously making a big deal about this? “What's your problem?” He demanded. Lance looked utterly scandalized.

“My problem? You are the one putting this- this- this cancer in your body!”

Keith snorted. “Seriously? The cancer thing?”

“What do you mean 'the cancer thing’? Of course the cancer thing! I don't know if you got the memo, but these things will fuck up your lungs.” Lance threw the smoke to the ground and, before Keith could get to it, squashed it with his shoe.

Keith scowled up at him. “You know.” He said, getting up now. “The sun gives you cancer too, but you don't see people avoiding it.”

Lance sputtered, scoffing and opening and closing his mouth like he wanted to say something but couldn't think of what. He looked angry. Not Lance who will tease you to no end, but seriously angry.

Finally, he got out, “God, no wonder you never sleep.”

This stopped Keith. He hadn't been expecting this. “What?”

Lance sighed, rubbing his face. “Cigarettes are a stimulant. Like caffeine.”

“Yeah?” Keith said, like he still didn't get it. But Lance had a point. Keith knew they were stimulants which had been one of the main reasons he'd originally avoided them in his life, the other, of course, to take care of his body.

But he'd needed a distraction. Something to do. It wasn't much and it definitely didn't help, but what could be more distracting than sabotaging his own health?

God, Keith was a wreck.

But he really didn't need Lance of all people reminding him.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Keith asked, looking away.

Lance paused, catching up to the direction Keith had suddenly taken them. “What, am I not allowed? I was under the impression this diner was open to the public.”

“You're insufferable.” Keith said, turning and stomping away. Behind him he heard Lance jogging to catch up.

“Hey, wait! Where are you going?” Lance asked, now walking next to him. Damn his long legs.

“Home.” He replied, remembering a time he had said that exact thing not long ago to Lance in a lot less hostile way.

“You already done at the diner? Man, that's why you weren't there yesterday. You must have come in way earlier than usual.”

Suddenly, Keith stopped. “Yesterday?”

Lance turned sheepish, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. I came yesterday, but you weren't here.”

“Oh.” Keith's voice sounded a lot smaller all of a sudden.

“Yeah.”

They stood there, each waiting for the other to speak but neither coming forward to do it themselves. Eventually, it was Keith who spoke up.

“Um, so you want to watch TV?” Keith almost flinched at the suggestion. Sure, that had been what they'd been doing most nights, but Lance had been avoiding him, hadn't he? He may not have wanted to go to Keith’s apartment this time. Maybe he'd come to properly say to Keith “Yeah, sorry, but I'm not gonna be coming back anymore. Thanks for letting me crash at your place for a while though!”

But that didn't happen at all. Instead, Lance brightened. “Yeah!”

Then he shrunk a little. “I mean, if that’d be okay…”

Keith dared to let a smile through. “Yeah. That would be great.”

-/-

They'd been sitting on the couch, watching a rerun of Full House when it started to pour outside. Keith caught Lance looking and his heart softened. The next thing he knew, he was standing and making his way over to the window.

“It looks like you got back to it.” He said, not much thinking at all in the serene ambience that was the apartment.

“Huh?” Lance asked, still at his spot on the couch. Keith looked back, for once unafraid of his possibly intruding comments.

“The rain.” He motioned to the window and turned back to it. “What was it like the first time you saw it after coming back?”

Lance was getting up now, making his way to get a better view of the weather. The night blotted out most of it.

“It was spectacular.” Lance reminisced. “I don't remember being so excited in my life. Well, maybe apart from seeing my family again, but that also came with nervousness.” He laughed and Keith smiled as the fond memory seemed to play out in Lance’s head.

“Want to open the window?” Keith suggested and Lance didn't need any other prompt to step forward and unlatch it, pushing it up. A gust of fresh air went through and Keith breathed it in. The smell of rain had always been pleasant to him.

Lance was reaching his arms out of the window, letting spatters of raindrops decorate his skin. Keith leaned against the window, content on watching. This was Lance on Earth. This was Lance with the rain he loved so much. Away from the burden of the universe on their shoulders. Away from the homesickness. Was this a happy Lance?

He looked happy. And that made Keith happy. He really wished it didn't, but it did. He liked it when Lance was happy. He liked it when any of his friends were happy. When Pidge was fixated on new alien technology or Hunk had found a delicious new spice or herb from another planet. When Coran was telling his horrible stories and Allura had successfully negotiated peace or alliance with some alien race. Those moments when Shiro didn't look like he had the weight of the world or the burden of his past on his shoulders.

Keith didn't want to get attached. He wasn't attached. Well, maybe a little, but not enough he would be broken. He missed them, but he could survive.

Was he surviving?

“I missed this so much.” Lance said, startling Keith. “I spent so much time wondering if I'd ever feel drops of water on my arms again. How silly is that?”

Keith frowned. “That's not silly.”

Lance shrugged his shoulders, arms still outside. He was turning them, as if hoping to get rain over every inch of skin. “I suppose it's not, but what sucks is that I spent so much time thinking on what I missed about Earth that I never really considered what I'd miss about space.” Lance pulled his arms in finally, more or less completely soaked. He paid them no mind. “Hunk and I were talking about that. What about you? You ever miss it?”

Keith paused. He knew that the tension now buzzing in the air was one hundred percent his own fault. That was the question, wasn't it? Did he miss space? Hell yeah. Did he want the others to know that? Probably not. They probably missed important things like Allura and Coran and their lions.

They couldn't have missed the castle or the weight of everyday training on their shoulders like Keith did. Maybe they missed different planets, but did they miss the harsh realities they'd experienced out there? It comforted Keith to see that every species, no matter how peaceful, had their problems. Did the rest of the crew see it that way?

They all had families and lives back there on Earth. Who was Keith to bring them down from that?

“No.” He answered quietly, his voice a ringing lie. “Not really.”

Lance looked at him, face scrunched in disbelief. “Not anything?”

Keith just shook his head, refusing to look at Lance in return. He kept his gaze on the stormy weather and dark skies outside. He could feel Lance's eyes on him but refused to meet his gaze. Eventually, Lance shifted away.

“Okay.”

When Lance moved to sit back at the couch, Keith didn't follow. Lance's question was still swimming in his head, reminding him how distant he really was from those he'd been closest to only a year back. It reminded him of Lance's absence and the unopened package of coffee in his cupboard.

People always leave.

Lance was flipping through channels on the TV when Keith finally moved. And it wasn't in the direction of the sofa.

“Where are you going?” Lance asked and Keith heard something in his voice he'd never heard there before. He couldn't figure out what it was.

“I'm tired.” Keith lied, not stopping in his pace. He remembered doing the same about a week ago, leaving Lance alone on the couch. Keith hadn't been able to sleep and, naturally, came back out, hoping Lance would be awake too.

But he had been gone.

Keith had originally gone to bed that night thinking exactly as he did now. Don't get attached. It had become a rule of his since the first few times he'd switched between families as a boy. As he'd laid, tossing and turning in bed, he'd rationalized to himself that maybe he could change. It could be nice to let one person in and it was about time he did it with one of his teammates. They deserved his trust.

He'd learned soon enough what a horrible idea that had been. And good thing too. He wasn't sure how he'd react if it had gone further. It hurt to break from someone you’d become so close to.

Keith was determined this time not to leave his room, not matter how difficult it was to get to sleep.

He didn't look at Lance the entire way to his room. When his door clicked shut, Keith collapsed on his bed and stared at his ceiling. He'd grown to know that ceiling way more than he ever hoped he would.

Keith tried - he really did - but sleep was an obstacle he couldn't hurdle. He couldn’t even doze off tonight. He just wasn’t tired, but he knew not getting sleep would mean a hellish time at work the next day. So he kept trying and kept failing. Counted sheep and the ridges above him in the ceiling. Hummed a lullaby, though he was quite certain he’d never been sung one in his life. There were breathing exercises and muscle relaxation techniques. He’d researched into it over the months, found a million different tips, but none seemed to work.

It was a pain in the ass. Why did his brain have to do this to him?

He had begun to trace the lines in the ceiling with a fingertip, arm stretched far above his head and swinging with the force of gravity, when he realized that he’d given up. “No sleep tonight, I guess.” He groaned as he sat up. He sighed as he swung his legs off the bed, and was to the door before he realized what he was doing.

Keith stared at his hand on the doorknob while he silently berated himself. He wasn’t going out there. He didn’t need Lance to get to sleep. He didn’t need the warmth of a body next to his or the glow of the TV over their faces or the sound of another person breathing. He never had, so why should he now?

But it wouldn’t hurt to slip in an out of the living room, would it? Just to the kitchen and back for a cup of water. He was parched, after all. And it would put his mind to rest on the topic if Lance had left. With the knowledge of if Lance was in the next room or not, Keith would be able to sleep, right?

Something nagged at Keith that it would not at all, but he decided that it was better than staying awake from not knowing.

So he pulled open the door and walked out. To find...

Lance. Laying on the couch, fast asleep.

So he was still there. Keith released a breath he had been holding, somehow, without knowing. There he was, the former Blue Paladin, curled up on his couch under a blanket Keith had left on the couch before Lance had even been there the first time and had left there ever since. He had pillows and other blankets too because Keith liked to keep many in his apartment for the winter, but that particular blanket Lance held close to him.

Keith stepped closer only to stop. Lance was there.That had been all he’d been wondering. Now he will go to the kitchen, get a glass of water, and make his way immediately back to the cave in which he dwelled.

But before Keith could turn away, Lance made a noise, scaring Keith and petrifying him into thinking he had been caught staring down at the sleeping guy. Frozen to the spot and once he’d calmed down, Keith realized Lance’s eyes weren’t open. In fact, they were squeezed shut, eyebrows furrowed, in a way that was definitely not a peaceful sleep.

Was he having a nightmare? Keith shuffled forward, not sure what he would do, but needing to help in some way. Lance whimpered again and Keith’s heart leaped into his throat. He scrambled around his head for something he could do. He’d never had to deal with someone else’s nightmares before. When Keith was a kid he’d wake up from one and have to stay where he was, darting his eyes around in paranoia for the rest of the night. Never a parent’s bed to climb into or a sibling to check the closet for monsters.

So when Keith’s hand came up to lie gently on Lance’s shoulder, he was impressed by the sheer automatic reaction of it. He was too busy staring at his hand in surprise that he didn’t even notice Lance calm down, his brow smoothing back into place and breathing even out. When he did, he was even more shocked. Had he done that?

Keith retracted his hand. This was freaky. Keith didn’t have a calming affect on people - not like Shiro did. Even to an unconscious person he severely doubted his abilities to help. Yet the evidence was there.

Keith stepped away. Lance helped him sleep; there was no denying this. But could it be that he helped Lance as well? Why else would Lance keep coming back? He knew Lance must have trouble with it if he kept coming to the diner at one in the morning, but Keith? Of all people? Help with something that isn’t knocking heads? No.

Keith went into the kitchen to get that water. He wasn’t thirsty, but he still felt like he needed a reason for coming out of his room. Other than to check to see if Lance was still there, that is. He spent more time getting his water than was probably necessary, though. Anything to keep him from going back to the tossing and turning he was accustomed to. Perhaps he would give up on sleep altogether and scroll through some sort of social media he cared nothing about. That always seemed to sap away unneeded time.

He emptied his glass and refilled it, taking it from the kitchen. He wouldn’t leave his room again that night and that was final. If Lance was gone by morning then he would know then. No more checking. No more letting his curiosity get to him. No more-

He heard another whimper when he passed by the couch again. When he approached it he noticed Lance’s brows were down in a deep arrow again, face contorted into a painful expression. His head was tossing back and forth and Keith panicked a bit. He tried what he had done last time, putting his hand on Lance’s shoulder, but nothing happened.

Quickly, he put his glass down on the side table and went to the other side of the sofa so he could shake Lance awake. It was the only thing he could think of to do. He wasn’t good at the whole comforting thing, and, if he had been the one locked in a nightmare, he’d want someone to get him out.

He sat himself on the edge of the couch, leaning over to grip Lance’s shoulders. Almost as if on impact, Lance jolted awake, breath catching and eyes darting. Keith immediately let go and gave him space. He still sat on the couch, wanting to be close in case he needed it, but leaned back so Lance wouldn’t feel crowded. Should he get up? Was this enough space? Or maybe Lance wanted to know someone was there? He was a touchy feely kind of guy, right? But he never had been that way with Keith, so maybe that would just be weird to be in his personal bubble like that. Keith had no idea what to do.

“Lance, it’s okay.” He said, settling on switching his position into a flighty stance. If Lance needed room, he’d be up and across the room in only a second. “It was just a dream.”

His words sounded lame to his ears, but it was all he could do. It was all that would come to his short circuiting mind.

Lance was breathing hard and almost choked when he spoke. “K-Keith?”

“Yeah.” Keith responded, uneasy and a little bit desperate. Lance sat up, pushing his hands through his hair.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry. I’m really- I just-” Lance scrambled with his words, “I’m sorry.”

Keith looked at him incredulously. “Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

Lance motioned around. “You know! This mess. I shouldn’t have- I- I should probably go.” He said as he sprang up. Keith did so as well, already prepared and blocking Lance from exiting.

“Wait. You’re sorry for having a nightmare?” He asked and, with no response, continued. “You can’t control that. That’s stupid, Lance.”

“Yeah, I know. Which is why I shouldn’t be here.”

Keith tried not to let that statement strike his heart. It didn’t make sense. He had to get it to make sense. “W-Why shouldn’t you be here?” He asked, trying not to show how afraid of the answer he was. Was Lance trying to tell him why he left before? Why he’s going to end up leaving and never coming back? But they hadn’t even been talking about that before. Maybe- Maybe Keith had crossed some line by waking him up. Maybe Lance didn’t want Keith’s comfort.

“Because I’ve been using you, Keith!” Lance suddenly exclaimed.

Keith still didn’t understand, but that didn’t stop the arrow that had been shot through his heart from digging in deeper. “W-What?” Keith stepped back once. Lance covered his face.

“That came out wrong.” He said, sliding his hands down his cheeks and stretching the skin away from his eyes. It would have looked funny in the right circumstances. “But, yeah. Kind of. I’ve been using you.”

Keith stepped back again. He didn’t like the sound of this. He didn’t like the feeling of his heart aching this much. You weren’t supposed to get attached, his mind was yelling. He’s leaving, his heart said.

“When I’m here I sleep better. Next to you or on this couch or with this blanket. I don’t get nightmares and- and, well, I feel at peace for once.” Lance said and Keith stood in place, confused. Was Lance talking about himself or Keith? Next to him Keith felt at peace too. Did Lance really- “It doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, but, yeah, I’ve basically been using you so I can get sleep.”

Keith stared at Lance in silence for a full minute after that. Lance stood there awkwardly, taking the strange silence and looking guiltier by the second. Eventually, he decided to speak up again because obviously Keith wasn’t going to.

“So I’ll just leave.” Lance stepped away, much like Keith had been doing only a few minutes prior. “I’m sorry for doing this. I hope things won’t be too weird and-” Lance was still leaving and finally something snapped in Keith, allowing him to move.

“Wait!” he nearly shouted and Lance stopped. Keith chased after him until he was right in front of Lance. When he stood there, all words went out the window and he was silent again. Damn it. “You’re an idiot.” Damn it again. He really had not meant for that to come out.

Lance rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t all humor like usual. “Yeah.”

“You don’t have to leave.” Keith tried for different words and this time they seemed to have the desired effect. Lance paused.

“What?”

Keith wrung his hands. Did he have the guts to say what Lance had? Could he admit to such a thing? Lance thought he was using Keith, but Keith was doing just the same to him. He should tell him. He should open his mouth and tell him right now. But instead what came out was, “I don’t care. You said you enjoy hanging out here, right?”

Lance nodded, wide eyed, at that. His shoulders were still slumped and Keith wanted to grip them tight. Then, he realized, Keith wanted to hold him in his arms. Keith blushed severely and looked away. This wasn’t the time for dreams that would not come true.

“Then I don’t see a problem with you sleeping here. If it helps you, it helps you.” Keith shrugged and Lance almost gaped at him in his shock.

“Seriously?” Lance asked and Keith nodded. “You aren’t weirded out now?” A shake of the head from Keith and Lance simply responded with an “Oh.”

Keith rolled his eyes and turned away, thinking about heading back to his room before he said anything else stupid. Before Lance changed his mind and went straight out the door, crippling Keith’s heart. Then, he changed his mind and turned back.

“I’m not that tired.” He admitted. Then asked, as he always did, “Want to watch some TV?”

In the end, they both ended up sitting side by side on the couch. Neither were tired in the least, but both somehow ended up asleep, almost cuddled in a way to each other. In less than ten minutes.

-/-

Lance had been thinking a lot about his talk with Hunk. And then his talk with Keith. He thought about a lot of things he and Keith said, like jokes and stories, and even how Keith just let him snooze on his couch whenever he wanted. He had been sure the hotheaded paladin - well, former paladin - would have been offended that Lance was basically using him, but he'd surprised Lance. He always did somehow.

But that wasn't where Lance's mind was currently dwelling. What he couldn't get out of his head was Keith’s determined rejection of missing space and Voltron. Yeah, Lance will be the first to say that he's glad to be home, but nothing? For Keith to not miss a single thing? That didn't sound right.

Maybe Keith hadn't thought it through very well. Lance knew he must have missed Allura and Coran like the rest of them. And his lion. He and Red had been really close. Closer than Keith was with anyone in Team Voltron and not in the way everyone else was with their lions. Lance had a special relationship with Blue, but that didn't mean he didn't have relationships with the rest of his team too.

Keith… well, Keith was reclusive. He was fun and got along when he was in a good mood (or Lance stopped teasing him long enough just for the chance to see him smile) but it was so different between Keith and the rest of them. Like they tried to look in and see Keith, his personality and interests and all that, but every time Keith just curled up tighter, blocking them and everything else out until he was left in a lightless and lonesome shelter he'd built for himself.

He must have missed Red. She had been close to him like none of them could. Maybe even like no one ever had been able. From what Lance knew, Keith hadn't had many people in his life before. His mother was Galra, so that had her out of the picture. He'd had Shiro at some point enough that they'd already practically been brothers when Lance had officially met them. As for anyone else, well, Keith had been alone in a desert shack ever since he'd been kicked out of the Garrison, so Lance didn't consider many people had really noticed his absence in normal civilization.

And when Lance thought too much about that, he went cold. How long had Keith been alone? Had he ever thought no one would ever find him? What if Lance and Hunk and Pidge had never found him? It might have been just him and Shiro if Keith had managed to get him out, but they never would have gone up to find Allura. Not unless Blue had picked one of them to pilot her.

That was possible. Lance had always wondered why she'd picked him of all of the people who been there. Would she have picked Keith or Shiro in this alternate universe Lance was making up? Keith had said he'd visited the cave before, but perhaps Blue would have changed her mind. If not him, Lance thought Keith would have been good for Blue. They would have taken care of each other.

Lance's mind was always spinning by the time he'd snap out of his thoughts. His mind made up of circles those days, constantly on the same channel. He thought of Keith not missing space. Then Keith missing space. What he might miss about it if he were to ever tell Lance. Then what Lance missed and what he'd say or do or feel if he were ever given the chance to go up there again.

Lance would spend hours talking to Coran. He would braid Allura’s hair like she always used to let him. He would fly Blue around and look at the stars and planets and not feel so lonely anymore with her by his side. He would feel normal again, feel a purpose to himself he hadn't for a year and a half, as he and his teammates flew in formation and did what they did best.

He missed them all being together more than anything. He missed sitting around on that couch on the ship or eating food goo all at the same table. He missed his teammates like he had missed his family in space.

You don't know what you have until it's gone.

In space he'd missed earth. On Earth he missed space. It was like everything passed him by. Always looking back and never around. Always the past and never the present.

What did Lance have now?

Immediately he thought: nightmares, no sense of purpose or direction for my life, a guilty conscience for everything from snapping some kid’s crayon in the first grade to the unshakable feeling that he was using Keith. I feel so alone here on Earth. But it was that way in space too.

Lance stopped. That wasn't fair, now was it? He wasn't giving his life credit enough. He wasn't giving Earth, the planet he loved and called home, credit enough.

But sometimes it was hard looking at the brighter side of life. Lance had always been kind of a pessimist when it came to personal affairs. He hoped the best for everyone else and expected the worst for himself.

Lance took a deep breath and sighed. “Okay.” He said to his bedroom ceiling, in his own apartment and not Keith’s for once. He'd just gotten back from a six o'clock class and had been craving smoothies all day. He sat up, making his way toward the kitchen. “Positive. Think positive.”

Lance got out the blender and shuffled around the sparse contents of his fridge. Good. He had stuff for smoothies. His day was saved.

“I can see my family again.” He started, placing something new on the counter every time he listed another positivity. “I can feel the rain.” Strawberries. “I can go to the beach.” Yogurt. “I can continue school.” Milk. “I don't have to worry about dying everyday.” He chuckled at that one, closing the fridge and lifting himself to his feet to go into the freezer. “No more weight of the literal universe on our shoulders.”

Lance paused, contemplating that one. Sometimes he forgot that he didn't have that weight anymore. Sometimes he felt something crushing him down with the familiar yet strange feeling gravity of Earth and wouldn't know what it was. Would just assume it to be the constant weight he'd always carried.

Lance took another deep breath and repeated this one, letting it sink into his bones. “No more weight on my shoulders.” He knew it was a lie. He had plenty of responsibilities and worries, but he let the serene feeling wash briefly over him.

Then he scooped the cup he kept in the freezer and filled it to the brim with ice. Setting it on the counter, the ice reminded him of Blue before he turned away to the blender again.

He went about making his smoothie and, when it was sufficiently blended, he tasted it. “One more thing…” he leaned over and grabbed a banana from across the counter. Lance was about to peel it when he stopped. “One more positive thing.”

“My friends are here too.” He finally said, feeling a whole new weight applied to his being. It wasn't something to heft or balance like what he kept on his shoulders. It was simply an importance. Something light but precious that only had the weight of a value he himself gave to it.

Hunk, Pidge, Shiro, Keith. They were all there too. All on Earth and all trying to get by like him. Trying to adapt to civilian life. Earthen life. Life outside what they'd known for years and away from the constant fear for their or someone else’s or everyone else’s lives.

And, for a moment, Lance didn't feel so alone.

-/-

“We should get everyone together again.” Lance said one night at Keith’s place. Today had been the first day they hadn't met at the diner since Lance had first found Keith there. Well, apart from those days Lance hadn't come at all.

Lance still remembered that first night he had come back to the diner after his unofficial leave of absence. How nervous he'd been. And, as much as Lance probably should have said it was for his health and a better sleep, he knew if it had only been for that he would have been much too stubborn to come back at all. No, Lance had come back because he'd wanted to see Keith.

It wasn't just the fact that Keith somehow took his nightmares from him that attracted Lance to him. Lance knew well enough from his days at the castle and even the Garrison that Keith had some sort of magnetic pull for Lance specifically. At the Garrison, Lance had always wanted to pull ahead, one up Keith, get Keith to notice him. On the ship, Lance had liked running into him in different places throughout the ship, teasing him, even sparring with him at times.

Now, on Earth, he'd found Keith again. And he loved late night TV with him and sipping coffee in the mornings and talking as they walked from the diner back to Keith’s place.

Then, that Monday, after Hunk had spent the weekend with him, Lance had decided to go back and Keith hadn't been waiting there for him. And he hadn't come in the whole night Lance had waited. His nervousness had turned into a nasty pain. He'd only done it to himself. Of course Keith wouldn't be waiting when Lance had ditched him for so long.

But Lance had decided to try again and boy was he thankful for that.

But now wasn't like that. Sure, they hadn't met at the diner, but that was because Keith had texted him beforehand saying that he was super tired and would probably pass out immediately when he got home.

Lance's heart had sunken until another text had popped up.

Keith: You can come over without an escort from the diner, can't you? Door’s open if you do

So now he was sitting on Keith’s couch next to said owner of the couch. Keith had actually passed out for a while, but somehow he now looked wide awake and was watching TV next to Lance. Man, did this guy really only need two or three hours of sleep a night? Lance couldn't help but be a little jealous of that.

But also, noting the bags under the other's eyes, it was a bit worrying. Lance would never say so aloud. He was the one camping out with an old teammate he hadn't seen in a year so his nightmares wouldn't keep him awake. But what if Keith was having nightmares too? Pidge used to have nightmares about losing their family while up in space and Hunk said that even he couldn't get certain things out of his head from the many battles they'd faced.

Shiro- well, Shiro was obviously handling how he could. He had a lot in his past to cope with.

But that was all testament to what they'd been through out there. Not all of it had been peaceful aliens and beautiful planets. They had seen horrific bloodbaths. Wastelands. Executions and torture and slaughter.

Keith had never seemed fazed by it all before, but maybe he was just a good actor like Lance. But instead of hiding the pain behind a smile, his was behind his passive or scowling features. No one was indestructible, Lance realized.

“Everyone?” Keith asked, jerking Lance back to reality.

“Um, uh, yeah.” Lance said, shaking his head to clear it. “Shiro, Pidge, Hunk, you, and me. We haven't all been together in forever.”

“But don't Hunk and Pidge live an hour away? At that tech school?”

Lance waved, like the question was easy. “Hunk comes over all the time. Pidge can just grab a ride with him. Then they can crash at my place or something.”

Keith seemed cornered for a second, like he really hadn’t expected a question like this, but then his face smoothed and he leaned back into the couch. “Yeah. Do whatever.”

Lance frowned. It was moments like these that Lance used to find great opportunity to pick a fight with Keith because, really, who reacts like that to getting together with friends? He knew Keith was more of the lonewolf, introvert, kind of guy, but this was their teammates they were talking about. He almost did pick a fight with him about it; the only thing stopping him was the fact that he had really listened.

Keith’s voice, it didn’t sound like he was unhappy about seeing their friends, not disgruntled or pouting or anything of the like. In fact, Keith almost sounded shy, like he was trying to hide himself behind his indifference and the cushions on the sofa. It made Lance do a double take. Keith Kogane was a lot of things, but shy? Unsure of himself in any way? Their mutual bullheadedness was what made them butt heads so frequently and now Lance was supposed to believe Keith was backing down?

Lance wanted to call him out then and there, demand what in the hell was up with him. He had been acting funny since Lance had told him about his nightmares the other night. Was that what it was? Was he really upset that Lance was using him but trying to hide it?

Noble bastard. Lance was the chivalrous one of this team. Now Mr Keith Kogane was trying to show him up? Damn it; he always did, didn’t he?

So Lance just crossed his arms and sat back on the couch, staring holes into the television screen. If Keith wanted to be broody and mysterious and all that cliche stuff, then Lance would let him. He didn’t care. Keith didn’t have to tell him anything.

But, if Keith really was upset about Lance’s confession, then Lance wasn’t sure what he would do.

-/-

Sure enough, Lance had invited everyone by the week’s end to hang out that weekend. Hunk couldn’t take Pidge at first because of some robotics tournament he had that he would have to drive straight there from, but it turned out Matt was looking for something to do and could drive Pidge there for the Team Voltron big day of fun. Either that, or, as Keith suspected, Pidge had actually blackmailed their brother. Whatever it may have been, they were getting a ride.

They all met at Lance’s apartment and, as it turned out, Shiro had never been there either. Apparently Lance hadn’t been as close to the others as Keith had originally thought since their homecoming. Fucked up sleep. Strange solitude. Perhaps he and Lance had more in common back there on Earth than Keith had thought.

Lance’s place was kind of small, just like Keith’s in a weird way. Keith knew Lance had a smaller apartment because he was still a college student. Keith, on the other hand, had a shitty apartment just so he could stay in the city. He had spent too much time in the desert to ever want to go back. Plus, being able to walk wherever he needed in those years aboard the Castle of Lions had ingrained a new lifestyle in Keith that he was loathe to let go.

Matt and Shiro sat on the couch, catching up with one another while Keith, Pidge, and Lance hung around the kitchen. Lance leaned on a counter, Pidge sat with their legs crossed right there on the floor, and Keith had propped himself up on one of the counters, leaning back against his hands. The kitchen was tiny, so they all ended up cramped together, but Keith didn’t mind so much.

“Update on Hunk?” Keith asked Pidge and they took their phone out to check.

“Says he’ll be here in about five.” They responded and pocketed the device. Keith waited for Lance’s customary ‘He better not be texting and driving’ in which Pidge would respond ‘It’s voice text. It’s safe enough’, but the response never came. Keith looked over to check to see if he was alright.

He was met immediately with Lance’s sea blue eyes and startled. Apparently, he’d startled Lance too since the other quickly looked away. Keith vaguely heard Pidge chuckling before he dragged his eyes away from Lance’s flush. Well, the kitchen was pretty crowded. A warm natured guy like Lance must be roasting. Keith looked back at Pidge and their devious smirk and frowned at them. He knew exactly what they were laughing at and he did not appreciate it.

When Pidge caught Keith’s unhappy gaze they merely rolled their eyes before talking to Lance again. “So Lance, you and Keith live pretty close now. You guys hang out and stuff?”

Keith had to fight back sighing deeply to prepare himself for the shitstorm of not-so-subtle taunts from Pidge throughout the day. Though Keith had never told them explicitly, Pidge had figured out Keith’s true feelings toward Lance back in their Voltron days and now seemed unable to cease this torment of giving him knowing looks and side-eyeing him while they asked Lance questions like this. It was like the little gremlin enjoyed his pain.

“Uh, yeah! Totally.” Lance responded, definitely trying to hide his discomfort at the question. Keith didn’t blame him when Pidge was giving him the same wicked smile they’d been sending Keith. Did they not know when to turn that thing off?

“So what do you guys do? Get coffee? Go to the movies?” Pidge asked innocently. Too innocently. Keith found himself blushing, imagining doing any of those things with Lance. Like a date. Ugh, Keith really didn’t need this right now.

Lance laughed sheepishly, answering, “Well, not really.”

Keith chewed on his lip. Telling their friends that they meet up at a diner at one in the morning and spent the night on Keith’s couch seemed like something that would be way too embarrassing to admit. It wasn’t only fuel for Pidge’s tyranny, but also just weird in general. If it didn’t come across as sketchy then it certainly would seem a bit insane.

Pidge leaned forward then, sensing some juicy secret. “Oh? What do you guys do then?”

Neither Lance nor Keith spoke up, a tense silence building in the room until a knock came from the door and Lance shot up. “I’ll get it!” he shouted and took off. Keith was left with a still inquiring Pidge and smiled uneasily.

He pointed to the door of the kitchen and awkwardly excused himself. “I should, uh, maybe, go see Shiro?” Pidge furrowed their eyebrows and was about to protest when Keith bolted too. When he made it out he stopped. Great, now Pidge would never stop trying to figure it out. Not that they hadn’t given them a reason to be suspicious. This was just what Keith needed on this day of Team Voltron fun.

He would never make it out of the day alive.

-/-

When Lance came back from the door with Hunk, they all conferred in the living room, ready to hear out what Lance had in store for this day he had brought them all together for. Keith was expecting them all to lounge around the living room and watch a movie or play a board game, but instead Lance announced that they would be going out. Their destination was to be a surprise though.

“Lance, can’t you just tell us where we’re going? We’re going to figure it out before we get there anyway.” Keith said from the backseat, rolling his eyes at Lance’s antics. Lance took this as a challenge it seemed. Damn it. How did everything always turn into a competition between them?

“I bet you won’t.” Lance said from his spot behind the wheel. Keith had been stuck with the backseat since Pidge had called shotgun. At least he had Hunk with him. Hunk was nice to him. Unlike some people.

Two of said people received his glare; Lance for be an idiot and Pidge for the continuous looks they were giving him.

“We’ll see about that.” Keith mumbled, taking the bait as always and inevitably roped into another of Lance’s proclaimed rival competitions. He watched the road signs and billboards as they passed in order to find a suitable guess He would show Lance how stupid he was being.

Because there wasn’t enough seats in Lance’s car, Shiro and Matt were following them in Matt’s. Which also meant they knew where they were going, in case they got separated and couldn’t follow after. Keith was tempted to text Shiro and ask so he could wipe that smirk off of Lance’s face, but Keith knew Shiro would never tell him. Even if Shiro saw no wrong with it, Matt was in on Lance’s plans to make it a surprise and would convince Shiro not to text back. Matt seemed like a nice enough guy, but he was a Holt for a reason, Keith had to remind himself.

Keith leaned against the window while he watched everything go by, trying his best to keep his mind on the task. There had to have been something advertising where they were going. A mall or movie theater or something! Keith may have lived around here, but he sure as hell knew nothing about places of social gathering. It was obvious enough that Keith did not partake in these sorts of things often. While trying to watch each passing sign, though, the world was slowly becoming a blur and his head kept dropping, only to jolt him back awake in its fall.

This happened over and over again, dropping off only to blink awake once more at the last moment. Why was he so tired? He’d gotten, what? Four hours of sleep last night? That was actually pretty good for him, so why was he nodding off like this? Soon, Keith just gave in. Someone would wake him up when they got there and he had to take sleep when he could get it.

So Keith passed out against the window. The voices of his friends didn’t reach him, nor did the shaking of his head knocking on the glass surface. It was only when a surge went through him that he woke up, blinking awake in a rather disgruntled fashion. He sat up, letting his shoulders sag momentarily at the loss of a chance for sleep. It just wasn’t something his brain or body or whatever it might be liked very much. To be inactive. To rest. He had to be doing something. Be productive and awake.

Keith turned back to his friends who didn’t seem to have noticed he’d fallen asleep, or rather cared. Pidge was turned in their seat so they could talk to Hunk. They made brief eye contact with Keith, then turned back to Hunk, elaborating on whatever their conversation had been by spinning one hand in the air. Hunk was nodding, seemingly a lot more understanding of the jargon than Keith felt. Even if he had been there since the beginning of the conversation, he doubted he would have been able to keep up.

“And we are here!” Lance announced then and they all turned to see. They’d pulled into a wide parking lot for a building that was practically pulsing with neon lights. The sign on its roof was big enough to be seen from space and Keith wandered if Lance’s intention was to use it as a beacon to hail Allura and Coran.

“Bowling?” Pidge asked, reading the sign in case any of them were really that blind.

Lance nodded enthusiastically, looking proud of himself. “Yep!” He parked, rather far away from the building despite the many available parking spaces, and leaped out. The rest of them followed at a slower pace. Keith saw Matt pull into a space two over from theirs, impatient enough to not wait until they had gotten out of the way of the ones beside it.

When they’d all gotten inside and booked a lane, they went one by one to get their shoes and change into them back at the lane. Keith stood in the background out of habit, getting his own rental shoes last. When he was turning away from the counter to head back to the lane where everyone else was, he nearly ran into Lance who had been standing behind him.

“What the hell, Lance?” Keith cursed and backed up.

“Sorry, sorry! Didn’t mean to run into you.” Lance apologized, hands up in a placating sort of way. Keith felt bad for snapping like that and ducked his head, trying to sidestep him and get to the lane.

“Yeah, okay.” He mumbled, trying to get away, but Lance stepped in front of him again. Keith looked up incredulously, ready to tell Lance off. They had been getting along so well lately too. Was being around the others really all it took for them to revert back to how they’d been before?

“Hold up, Kogane.”

“Lance-” Keith tried to argue. He really wasn’t in the mood for this.

“Just give me a sec, man. I gotta ask you something.” Lance said and Keith paused, giving the other a sceptical glance. “You, uh, “Lance continued, scratching his head in that self conscious sort of way he always did, “Look kind of tired. You alright?”

Keith immediately frowned. Lance was asking if he was tired? Lance was at his apartment practically every night. He knew how much sleep Keith got. He’d been there last night too. “I’m fine.” Was his automatic response and started to push through again. Lance grabbed his wrist.

“You were falling asleep in the car.” Lance said, doubt etching his face. Damn. So Lance had seen that. Well, it was good to know that it wasn’t showing on his face like he’d thought then.

Keith shrugged. “Just dozing. I’ll be fine.”

Lance didn’t say anything at first, just continued to give him that doubtful look. Keith stood in place, trying to prove he had nothing to hide. Prove he could very well take care of himself and wouldn’t pass out or whatever Lance seemed to think would happen because of his slight sleep deprivation. He met Lance’s gaze full on, in that challenging sort of way that was so common between the two. It had never been about something so personal though. For once, Keith would rather them fight about something completely trivial.

“Are you two gonna get over here already or are you gonna keep standing there and holding hands all day?” Pidge practically shouted across the alley. Lance’s brow furrowed and Keith immediately looked down, noticing his wrist still encircled by Lance’s hand. He quickly detached himself and turned away, blushing.

Without another word, Keith stalked over to their friends, not caring if Lance was following - or at least telling himself as much - and trying to hide his furiously reddening face. At the table he sat down, focusing his attentions on throwing his shoes off and pulling the rentals on. He heard Lance come over, talking like he hadn't even been affected by what had happened only a minute prior.

Probably because it really wasn't something for Lance to be affected by.

“Alright! Because I came up with this brilliant idea I am going first. So step back and watch the master bowl.” Lance said, but Keith still didn't look up. Like hell he was going to give Pidge any more ammo for the day. Even if it was something as stupid as looking Lance’s way, it wasn't happening.

“You named yourself 'Number One Sharpshooter’?” Keith then heard Shiro say in his usual amused tone he had with the younger teammates’ antics.

“Well, of course! I mean, I thought about ‘The Tailor’ which is my usual default, but I haven't used that since my Garrison days, y’know? Then I thought maybe ‘Number One Leg’ but that just wouldn't be fair to my main man, Hunk, because he's way cooler than that would give him credit for.”

Keith looked up. Not at Lance but at the screen. Sure enough, there was the name of the first player at the top: ‘#1 Sharpshooter’. All the names below it we're abbreviated until the person’s turn came up, but one thing Keith noticed. There was no K placeholder.

“Whatcha name me?” Matt asked, lounging in one of the plastic chairs and feet kicked up on the back of another. Lance gave him a wicked grin in response. Damn it. I looked.

“You'll just have to find out.”

Lance bowled a strike. Keith knew this was going to be a long game already.

Next up was Shiro, dubbed, simply, 'Dad’. At first he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, not quite getting the joke, then shrugged and went to bowl. They had called him 'Dad’ and even 'Space Dad’ millions of times when on the castle ship, but he'd never quite gotten it.

Then came Hunk. 'BF Goals'.

“Does that make me bestfriend or boyfriend goals?” Hunk had asked.

Lance had given him the most serious look in his life. “Yes.”

“Aw, Lance.” Had been Hunk’s reaction, placing a hand over his heart.

“Love you too, buddy.” Lance mirrored Hunk, but placed both his hands over his own instead of one.

After Hunk had bowled (a perfect strike no less. Did those two play bowling in all their spare time?) Pidge was up, given nickname of ‘Gremlin’.

“Ha ha, Lance.” Pidge said humorlessly as they approached the weird contraption that spit out the bowling balls. By this time, there were only two slots left, both of them starting with the initial M. Keith had a good idea what his would be.

'Meme Overlord’ was next and Matt broke out into the widest grin. “Couldn't have asked for better.” He said as he slung his legs down from the chair they'd been propped over. Lance was sitting across the table from Keith, so Keith took this opportunity to frown at him.

“What?” Lance asked, a smug grin on his face. “Offended you're last?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I know what my name is going to be.”

“Oh, do you?” Lance gave him another sly smirk and Keith wanted to strangle him. Of course he knew what it was going to fucking say!

“Could you try to be more creative?”

“I don't think you know what it's going to be.”

“I think you're an idiot.”

“An idiot who's tied for the lead.” Lance pointed out.

“We'll see about that.” Keith said and he was so focused on his talk with Lance that he hadn't even noticed Matt sit back down next to him.

“Your turn.” Matt said, not really looking their way. Everyone, including Pidge’s brother, was pretty much used to his and Lance’s constant bickering by then.

Except, they really didn't fight when it was just the two of them, did they? Maybe disagree, but it rarely turned into the level of bickering it did around their friends.

Keith huffed and stood up, facing the scoreboard. His eyes landed on his nickname.

'McMullet’

He paused. Shit. So it wasn't what he'd thought it was going to be.

“What is it, Keith?” Lance asked innocently from his chair. “Is something wrong with your name?”

“It's still basically what I thought it was going to be.” He said before he stormed off to get his bowling ball. Lance was an idiot. Putting 'Mc’ in front of something didn't change it all that much. It certainly didn't change the meaning.

Lining up his shot, Keith thought to himself I’ll wipe that smug look off his face before pacing down the lane like all the others had and swinging his arm.

The bowling ball was heavier than he'd thought. The swing was awkward. It went approximately five feet before landing right in the gutter.

Keith was right about one thing. This was going to be one long game.

-/-

Lance wasn't sure if Keith had never played bowling before or if he was really just this bad. He was okay with deciding that Mr Perfect At Everything was finally not such a hot shot as he'd thought, but then, on the other hand, his head kept reminding him that it was just as likely that Keith never had been bowling. His head should really stay out of his business...

“Hey, Keith.” Lance spoke up when Keith sat down after yet another gutterball. He wasn't looking too thrilled with the outing.

Keith folded his arms and sunk into his chair like a petulant child when he asked, “What?”

“You ever been bowling before?” Lance asked, not sure anyway around the direct question to get his answer. Keith sunk even lower. “I mean, it's not bad. I was just wondering and all…”

Keith mumbled and Lance didn't quite hear him. Seeing his puzzled expression, Keith sighed and spoke up. “No. I've never been bowling.”

Lance frowned, but tried not to let it show how much that bothered him. It was just bowling, after all. It wasn't a big deal.

But he couldn't stop thinking about why that might have been. Because Keith had never had a family to take him? Because he'd never had friends to go with?

He couldn't get the visual of Keith out of his head, alone all his life. Alone in a foreign house that he’d switched to every few months. Alone in a new school. Alone at the Garrison, even as Lance was right there trying to one up him on the daily. Then alone in that desert shack.

What about in the space castle? Had he been alone there too?

Sparring against the gladiators. Lying awake in his room. Roaming the castle.

But his teammates had been with him too. Everyone had been alone at one time or another on the space castle. Lance himself had all the time. But they'd all been together too, to pick each other up and laugh and have one another's backs.

Just like now. Their teammates were here with them. Pidge was over there explaining to Shiro how they thought they could hack into the scoreboard and change it so they would win. Matt was agreeing with the gibberish while Shiro looked completely lost.Hunk was holding a pink bowling ball at the end of the lane, but instead of lining his shot decided to make some joke to Keith. And Keith was smiling a little, coming up from the chair he'd been pouting in because Hunk was just that good at lifting people's spirits.

They were all there. They weren't teammates anymore, but they certainly were still friends.

Lance mulled over that thought for a second.

They weren't teammates anymore. They didn't see each other every day or save the universe or eat food goo together or reminisce their time on Earth and how they couldn't wait to get back.

Again, Lance thought: You don't know what you have until it's gone.

He missed space. It was ironic really with how much he had missed Earth. But he could appreciate the here and now. He could love these little moments with his friends because he didn't know when he would miss something like this. It may not be around the couch they always lounged on in the castle or around the table handcuffed to each other having a food goo fight with Allura and Coran. It wasn't space spore fights or flying lions or exploring somewhere he'd dreamed of going all his life, yet could never even imagine.

But it was together and it was happy.

So Lance was going to try to live in the present.

-/-

“What are you talking about? Bowling alley pizza is, like, the BEST PIZZA!”

“No. No, please, someone tell me he's joking.”

“Aw, come on! Keith will agree with me, won't you, Keith?”

“Sorry, buddy. No offense, but Keith thought Coran's cooking was okay.”

“Coran's cooking was okay.”

“Uh huh” Hunk motioned to the former red paladin, giving Lance eyes that blatantly said, See?

“Okay,” Lance admitted, “Maybe that wasn't the best example.”

“Hey!” Keith protested but Lance ignored him as he moved on.

“Pidge! Thoughts on bowling alley pizza.”

“Get some. I'm starving!” They said as they strode to the edge of the lane, releasing the ball and completing their spare. Pidge barely reacted as they turned back around to take their seat.

“Shiro?” Hunk asked desperately. Lance knew he'd win this one, but with Shiro it was up in the air. Who the hell knew what Shiro liked?

But Shiro shrugged. Lance pumped his arm. Success! “I don't mind either way. Can we get chips?”

Hunk looked so disappointed in his friends then, but Lance threw an arm around him, pressing the call button on the dial thingy with his other hand. “It's alright, buddy. The chef can't be right about everything.”

“It tastes like underbaked dough and processed cheese.” Hunk said, disbelieving. Lance shrugged. If he wanted to admit it, Hunk was probably right. But most of the people there either were too hungry to complain or didn't have taste at all. Namely, Keith.

When the waiter came over Lance took over ordering for everyone. “One cheese pizza. Two pitchers of soda. Uh, one coke and the other-”

“Water.” Shiro said.

“Mountain Dew!” The Gremlin piped up.

Lance got both.

By the time the waiter came back their table was littered in greasy foods and sugary drinks (and water for Shiro). There was pizza, chips, fries (because who goes anywhere and doesn't order fries?), a big pretzel for Hunk, hot dog for Matt, and nacho cheese and ranch for those who just wanted to fuck up their systems. Matt went straight to putting both dips on his hot dog.

Ew.

Lance, predictably, went for a fry. Fries were heaven wherever you got them. Wait, no. Fresh fries were. Don't eat cold McDonald's french fries, kids. It's a safety hazard.

But these ones were definitely fresh and so Lance was super ready to eat at least half of what had been brought to the table.

What he wasn't ready for was meeting someone else's hand across the table. They both froze and Lance could only stare down at the two connecting fingertips. Barely touching, yet it heated Lance’s entire body from head to toe to slightly grazed fingertip. It was the second time he'd felt like this today, the first having been when he'd realized he was holding onto Keith’s wrist after stopping him by the shoe rentals.

It felt like they were there forever until Keith snatched his hand back half a second later. Lance was still frozen for a moment though, which prompted a reaction from his worst little nightmare.

Pidge chuckled like all their devious Christmas wishes had come true before teasing, “I think you broke Lance, Keith.”

Their voice was the catalyst to finally make Lance move. He snatched a fry and leaned away, stuffing it in his mouth and looking in any direction that was not at Keith.

He was going to kill Pidge. They had been doing this all day. Making jokes, teasing Lance about the crush they knew he'd had for who knows how long! All the while it seemed every single one went right over Keith's oblivious head, leaving Lance alone in his embarrassment to suffer.

He could never decide if he was relieved by Keith's obliviousness or was completely and utterly frustrated by it. Like now, all of Pidge’s taunting did nothing to alert Keith of his feelings, but if Keith had been a little less dense would Pidge even make the jokes in the first place?

Or would any of Lance’s flirting or pickups have worked?

Or would Keith have just given him any sort of sign???

It was hard to tell. Because, as stated, Keith really is that dense.

And Lance was spending practically every night at his apartment these days. He saw him every day, often times slept next to him.

Oh no.

This was bad.

Lance knew it was. First step was admitting it, right? First step to what? Who even knew, but he was past the first step. What's the next? Abort mission. He didn't know what to do.

After bowling they all went back to Lance’s apartment. Shiro left and Matt caught a ride with him to spend the night at his place. Lance’s apartment now made up of Hunk, Pidge, Keith, and himself who decided to watch a movie crowded together in Lance's living room. Pidge was first to the couch and sprawled out, but Hunk kicked their legs off so he could sit too. Instead of trying to fight Pidge, a battle they would most assuredly lose, Keith and Lance just sat on the floor.

In the middle of the movie they decided to pause and stretch their legs. Hunk made.popcorn and, since the floor wasn't the most comfortable place in the world, even with the soft carpeting, Lance raided his apartment for blankets and pillows and made the comfiest floor nest he could. It was too bad he didn't have many lying around or he really could have made a really awesome fort.

When he got back Keith was in the kitchen helping Hunk and Pidge was passed out on the couch.

“Huh.” Lance commented to the silent living room. “I didn't think you slept.”

“Only when people taking for-abso-fucking- luetly-ever to get back to a movie.” The bundle of green and bitter replied.

Lance snorted and continued laying out the pillows, throwing one at Pidge’s back so they could get comfier too. Pidge grabbed it and buried their head under it without moving anything but their arms.

“Popcorn arrives!” Hunk announced as he and Keith walked into the room carrying four bowls of the stuff. They had learned long ago that trying to share bowls would only lead to destruction.

“My heroes!” Lance exclaimed, falling back into the cushions he had situated for this purpose. The landing was still a little hard, but, hey, he'd looked cool while doing it.

“That was stupid.” Keith pointed out.

“You're stupid!” Lance replied.

Once they all got settled in again, turned out the lights and unpaused the movie, the room went silent. By the time the movie ended both Hunk and Pidge were asleep, for real this time.

Keith looked exhausted and Lance was reminded that he'd off and on looked about like that all day. He sat up anyway.

“I should probably get home.”

Lance didn't get up, only made sure to complain as loudly as he could without waking the others.

“Duuude. Just crash here. It's like one in the morning.”

He could see Keith roll his eyes from the light of the TV screen. “You know I'm out this late on most nights anyway.”

“You're exhausted. Don't try to deny it. Come on; just let me pay you back for all those times I crashed at your place.” When he saw Keith about to argue again he interrupted, sticking out his bottom lip and giving the biggest puppy eyes he could. “Pwease?”

At that Keith burst out laughing but didn't argue anymore, just laid back down and stared at the ceiling. Lance could hearing the even breathing of their two sleeping friends on the couch.

For a while they stayed that way, next to one another and staring at the ceiling. It wasn't anything like Keith's couch, television light sweeping over them. Lance had already turned off the TV when the movie had ended and now it was total darkness. Total silence.

Lance was suddenly aware again of what he had realized in the bowling alley that day. He slept next to his age-old crush. Almost every night. And neither of them thought it weird at all.

Did they? Did Keith think it was weird?

Now that Lance thought about it, it must have been weird.

They didn't act like it was weird.

“Lance?” Keith whispered, as if sharing a secret with the night around them instead of simply asking if Lance was awake.

“Yeah?”

“You said you, uh, get nightmares, right?” Keith asked, a little hesitant.

Lance nodded, then realized that probably wasn't the best response in a pitch black room. “Yeah.” He wondered vaguely if 'yeah’ was all he could say to the dark.

“What…” Keith started then trailed off. Lance didn't say anything, only waited. “What are they about?”

Lance was silent for a long time after that, contemplating what exactly he should tell Keith. If he even wanted to tell Keith anything. After a while, Keith spoke up again, voice still calm and hushed.

“You don't have to tell me.”

Lance stayed silent. He thought he was ready. He could tell Keith about his nightmares.

But that night he never did.

-/-

It had been a week since Lance had come clean about his nightmares. He still hadn't told Keith what the nightmares were of, but that wasn't really the point. Keith worried what they could be, yes. If it could be any of the things they'd seen in space that could be replaying in Lance's head every night or of fears unknown to Keith. It could be anything.

But what really had Keith anxious was the fact that he hadn't told Lance about his own sleeping… difficulties.

Lance must have known, right? He spent so much time at Keith's apartment that it would be impossible to think Keith slept like a normal human being. But he never mentioned it. Not a word. Maybe he was afraid asking would prompt Keith to ask about his nightmares again.

That made Keith feel severely guilty about the whole thing. Not only did Lance tell him about his nightmares only for Keith to tell him nothing in return, but he now probably thought he owed Keith more explanation. Keith didn't want to know what the nightmares were about if Lance didn't want to tell him. That's not why he'd asked.

He had just been worried about Lance and about what he'd been dreaming. He'd been worried since finding out Lance had nightmares so constantly. He didn't like it that Lance had to put up with that. Lance didn't deserve any of it.

So Keith was really worried. About Lance, his nightmares, the pressure he must have put on Lance when he’d asked what the nightmares were about. And then the part where Keith himself wasn't even being honest with him.

Every detail, every secret, it all stacked up, leaving Keith strained from the weight of trying to keep it from toppling over.

But that didn’t change anything between the two. At least, externally. Lance still came over practically every night and Keith tried to stay away from the living room in the meantime. It didn’t work a lot of the occasions. Keith always somehow made it to his spot on the couch, sleeping next to Lance.

There was no denying that he’d become attached.

That coffee still sat up in his cupboard and he refused to touch it. It hurt to look at it. He knew he was only setting himself up for disaster. And, that night, while watching more late night TV with his unofficial roommate, Keith couldn’t stop thinking of that damn bag of coffee and the mistakes he was making.

“Keith?” Lance’s voice knocked him out of his reverie and Keith looked over. Lance’s eyebrows were knitted together in concern. “What’s up, man?”

Keith frowned in thought. Then, oddly enough, he began to tell Lance. He wasn’t sure what exactly had prompted it, but the words came unbidden.

“I lied to you. I do miss it.” Keith breathed, curling up and sitting back into the cushions. He wanted to hide himself from Lance’s imploring eyes. “I miss space.”

“Yeah, man.” Lance said, “Me too.”

They sat with that knowledge hanging in the air for some time before Lance spoke up again.

“Why deny it in the first place? We all miss it. It’s alright to miss it.”

“I didn’t think you guys missed it. At least, not as much as you were relieved to be home.” Keith explained. “I miss it too much. I want to go back to it, but that’s not fair to you guys.” Keith sunk more, voice lowering soft enough where he hoped Lance couldn’t quite hear. Maybe he would ask him to say this part again and he could say something else. Anything to deny what he really felt.

“You all have people you came back to.”

It was silent again and Keith prayed Lance would ask. He had to. Keith had said it too low. Lance would say “I didn’t quite catch that. Could you say it again?”

Instead Lance said, “You know, when we were bowling I thought something was off with you. You were acting different and, I mean, I knew it wasn’t a bad different, but I was still really confused about it.” In the middle of Keith’s sinking heart’s descent, it stopped. He looked at Lance now, an imploring expression in his eyes. Then Lance took his hand. It was a comforting gesture and Keith wanted to squeeze back with all his might, but he kept still. He kept the embrace loose so he could get out if he needed to.

“You had gotten a bunch of gutter balls and had to put up with all the teasing from Pidge and Shiro and me about it, but you were really happy about it all. You tried to pretend you didn’t give a shit, but anytime you interacted with us you just... lit up.” Lance sort of tilted his head. “Yeah, lit up. I guess that's a way to describe it.”

Lance was looking down at their linked hands now, thumb tracing over the top of Keith’s hand. “I forgot with this all - getting home, seeing our families and friends, getting back to normal life - I forgot that we were your family.”

Keith tensed and, on instinct, went to retract his hand. Lance didn’t let go.

“I bet Shiro didn’t forget, did he? He’s good at that stuff. Besides, he’s basically your brother.”

Lance sounded so put out by that that Keith wanted to shift his position so he could actually be facing the other and give him a hug. Yeah, Shiro was always in that big brother mode. It was unavoidable. But Shiro got busy too. They all kind of forgot Voltron to live their Earthen lives for a time. It was okay to forget about Keith. Everyone did.

Instead, Keith was out of words. Lance’s words instead were singing in his ear.

We were your family. We were your family. We were your family.

They were. Keith hadn’t even noticed until then. He did had a family.

“It’s fine, Lance.” Keith eventually said. He didn’t want Lance to feel guilty about this. Not this. Keith had plenty of experience getting over being left behind. With not having a family. He could deal with this fine. Lance had nothing to feel guilty about.

Lance sat up straighter, looking for Keith’s eyes. “Your definition of fine kind of sucks.”

This time Keith succeeded in tearing his grasp from Lance’s. He hugged his hands both close to his chest. An uncontrollable feeling was writhing in his heart and he just wanted to get away. Get out. “Before bowling I hadn’t talked to Shiro in months!” Keith snapped, shrinking away. When the words he’d said dawned on him he tried to cover up his hurt. His bitterness. “But that’s fine. Before I met Shiro it was always like this anyway. I can handle things the way they are.”

He didn’t want Lance to see him like this. He was vulnerable and weak. People left when you were weak.

So Keith sprang off the couch. He tried to take off to his room until a hand held him back. Lance was standing too and he was looking down at Keith desperately. “Don’t leave!” He pleaded, “Please, don’t leave.”

Keith froze. He remembered those words. Those words and him were old friends.

“What, Lance?” He asked, barely keeping his voice from crumbling. He didn’t turn around.

“I- I just- I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

Keith whipped around. Surely he hadn’t heard that right. “What?” His voice was becoming shakier the longer he stayed, but he had to hear Lance now. This didn’t sound right.

“I’m sorry, man. We left you alone like that. We didn’t even think where you’d end up after Voltron. I mean- I thought about it, but I guess I never thought of it like this.”

Time stood still.

Then, before Keith turned again. Before he retreated inevitably back to the safety and solitude of his own room. Keith could only think of one thing to say.

“It’s fine, Lance.”

Keith didn’t feel fine, but he knew, with time, none of it would matter anyway. Because everyone left him and Lance would too.

-/-

Keith tried to pretend like that night never happened. Lance didn’t look too happy about Keith’s blatant disregard of the topic, but he seemed to respect it. Maybe he was finally beginning to see that it was a sensitive subject for Keith. Or maybe he was starting to not care anymore. That had always been the first step when people left him.

Keith should have known that argument was what would end up doing it.

One night, Lance fell asleep before Keith. It wasn’t unusual. The two were pretty tied for who fell asleep faster. On this particular night, Keith couldn’t help watching Lance from the corner of his eye. He tried to convince himself he was watching the television and occasionally checking to see if Lance was having any nightmares, but soon he couldn’t even keep up that pretense.

Lance was beautiful when he was asleep. He was always beautiful, but seeing how serene, how at peace he was, made Keith’s heart stutter. He wanted to reach over and push his hair away from his face. He wanted to snuggle closer or put his head on Lance’s shoulder. He wanted to whisper all his thoughts to him and have Lance share his ridiculous late night rambling in return.

When Lance’s face scrunched up, Keith didn’t hesitate to stroke his cheek in an attempt to soothe him. It worked and Keith sighed in relief.

He laid back, content enough to perhaps get a few hours of sleep before he had work in the morning. It was funny how sleeping on that couch next to Lance made it so much easier. His body felt like it could slow down for once. His mind didn’t spin and his nerves weren’t wired. Somehow he reacted differently to the prospect of sleep when he was around Lance.

It was natural when Keith started to nod off. Not laying in bed until he was utterly exhausted or going out for a run to tire himself out quicker. It wasn’t because of some tea that’s supposed to help you sleep or medicine that Keith was always reluctant to take because of the risk of dependency, knowing full well it wouldn't only be a single night he'd have to take it. It was pure, natural nodding off, which led to pure, natural sleep.

Keith wasn’t sure how much sleep he’d gotten when he woke up from the shifting on the couch. He cracked his eyes open to see Lance standing.

“Sorry dude.” Lance whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

But Keith blinked blearily. It was still dark. Did Lance have an early class?

Lance left the room and came back with a glass of water. “Hey, you’re still up.” He commented and put the glass on the side table. “Did you want some?”

Keith shook his head, still too groggy to form actual words. He probably hadn’t been asleep for that long, but it felt like it had been days. “Why are you up?” He managed, probably slurring the words a bit.

Lance shrugged. “Nightmare. You know.”

This woke Keith up. “Oh.” Wow, great one, Keith.

“Yep.” Lance fell back onto the couch, no longer trying to sneak about because Keith was definitely Awake.

They were silent after that. It was odd how quiet they were together. It used to be all shouting and taunting, but now they simply sat with one another.

Keith should tell him. It was obvious by now that Keith also had trouble sleeping, but it had been obvious when Lance was having nightmares and he’d still told Keith anyway. He’d thought Keith would be upset. Would Lance be upset that Keith had waited so long? Would he be angry that Keith was using him too; not simply letting Lance stay here out of the goodness of his heart, but because it helped him sleep as well?

Keith knew he would let Lance stay no matter what, but Lance didn’t know that. As far as Lance would understand, Keith had been using him and hadn’t even come clean about it when Lance had done the same.

“Mostly…” Lance spoke up and paused. He seemed to contemplate what he was going to say. “Mostly I dream about stuff that happened in space. You know, the fights, combat in the lions or out face-to-face with Galra or whatever other aliens. Almost getting sucked out of the castle. Fighting Hunk at that weird mermaid place.”

“But sometimes I dream about losing you guys. What if one of you had died when I was passed out that time they were taking over the castle? What if the Blade of Marmora killed you because you had one of their blades? What about Blue? I’ll never see her again. None of us will see our lions. I know we said goodbye, but I always worry she doesn’t know how much I miss her. What if she thinks we abandoned them?”

“Then sometimes it’s my mother’s face. The shock she’d had when I came home. What if I had never come back? What if I never got to see her again or she never saw me and they all just thought we all were dead? I know it still haunts her that I was gone for so long. I can see it everytime I come home, like she had forgotten that I was just a drive away or going to the grocery store or something.”

Lance took a deep breath. He glanced back at Keith and he looked so small then. Like he was stuck in a bad dream at that very moment. Keith wanted to hug him. Wrap him up in his arms and blankets and whatever else that could shield him from those nightmares and things he was scared of.

“So…” he continued, Keith still having not moved to comfort him because that wasn't something he could do. Keith couldn't comfort. “That’s what I dream about. I’m sure it’s a lot of the same you or the other guys think about or maybe have nightmares of. But you asked, so I thought, hey, why not? There it is.”

Lance finished by folding his legs up onto the couch under him, then tucking them up near his chin so he could hold them. It was Keith’s turn to take a chance.

“I don’t really think about that stuff a lot.” He found himself saying. And it was true. “Maybe I’m just not like that. Maybe I’m not as sensitive. I probably should be. What kind of person isn’t phased by battle?” Keith chewed on his lip. “But thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to divulge that. It's your business. But I'm glad you did.”

Lance just shook his head. “I was going to tell you the other night, but for some reason I couldn’t really get it out. I thought I was ready, but I guess not. I was ready this time.”

“You know,” Keith said, finally, “I have trouble sleeping too.”

Lance snorted. “Yeah, I noticed.” He said, though there was still humor in his voice.

Keith elbowed him. “Okay, ass. I got that.”

Keith waited a beat. He had gotten this much out…

“Is it nightmares?” Lance asked and Keith shook his head. This was better. He couldn’t do all the talking on his own.

“I never get nightmares. Like I said, it’s like space didn’t even affect me. I think I’m just too used to change. Maybe I don’t feel things like a normal person anymore.”

Lance frowned but didn’t say anything. He was waiting for Keith this time.

Keith sighed. “I just can’t sleep for whatever reason. I have to exhaust myself in order for my body to shut down. I’m really wired all the time. That’s why I went to the diner a lot. I rested there after my jogs which were supposed to get rid of a lot of this energy. More often than not though, when I end up getting to sleep, my body will kick start it and I’m wide awake again.”

He shifted, uncomfortable with all of Lance’s attention on him. He always loved when he had Lance’s attention like this, but with how things were now, with what he was saying, he just wished Lance would look anywhere else.

“So I guess I’m using you too. I sleep better with you here.” When the words he’d used processed through his head, Keith’s blushed up to the tips of his ears. “I- I mean! Not you. Probably just another person. Just a human, you know? I mean, not that aliens are bad. We know a lot of aliens and they’re cool…”

By this time Lance was laughing. “Dude. Dude, I get it! I’m pretty sure you’re forgetting you’re half alien again.”

“Wait.” Keith put his hand up to stop Lance’s flow of words, though they had already ceased. “You aren’t mad?”

“Mad?” Lance asked, more than a little confused. “About what…?”

“I didn’t tell you… and I’m sort of using you too…”

“What? Dude, like we’ve already established, I’m doing the same thing. Besides, it’s your place and I’m crashing here. I don’t think there’s much I can be mad about.”

Keith’s brows went down. “But I didn’t tell you. You told me and I just brushed it off.” He threw his hands up, frustrated that Lance still wasn't getting the point.

“Keith,” Lance said seriously this time, “For one, I already knew you had trouble sleeping. It’s hard not to notice when you sleep next to a guy every night.” Lance paused. “Okay, that sounded weird, but whatever.” He waved his hand. “Two, you weren’t keeping anything from me. If you don’t want this to be my business then it’s not. I like that I can help and I’d like to help more if I can. Even if it’s just listening like this. But, man, you’ve really got nothing to worry about. I’m cool.”

“...oh.” Keith said finally.

“Yeah.” Lance replied, as if Keith had just grasped the importance of some obvious phenomena of the world. Like gravity. Or the cuteness of small animals.

They lapsed into silence again. Damn, Keith was really starting to hate these silences.

Then, “I’m tired.”

“Me too.” Lance said.

But neither of them moved to lay down. Instead, Lance leaned over to grab his glass of water, lifting it to his lips to take another sip. Keith blushed and looked away when he noticed he was watching. He already felt embarrassed enough with how he had treated the situation. Of course Lance hadn’t been mad at him. Lance was better than that. He was one of the most understanding people Keith knew, though he could get caught up on occasion when it came to arguing with Keith.

But the seemingly obviousness of this information still couldn’t deter Keith’s head, nor his heart. He’d lived for too long thinking things were his fault. Thinking he’d been the reason he’d never gotten to stay, that everyone leaved, had been simple fact to him for most of his life.

He wondered if Lance would leave.

He knew he would…

But he hoped - he really, really hoped - that maybe this time could be different.

When the two lay back again, Keith tucked in his legs, wrapping his blanket more securely around him. Lance put his head down on the couch, close enough that Keith could run his hand through his hair if he wanted.

Instead, Keith lay down too. The couch was certainly cramped and they had to tuck their legs in to fit, but neither of them seemed to mind. Keith’s legs were on one side, Lance’s the other. Their heads lay side by side at the middle of the couch.

And Keith felt that hope in his chest reach out to the one that lay beside him. And he was scared of it. Scared of it perhaps more than anything in his life. He couldn’t beat this back like any normal enemy. Emotion was complicated, especially with Keith.

But, if Keith snuggled a little closer to Lance as they fell asleep, well, there were only the two of them to tell.

-/-

It seemed that somehow along the way Lance and Keith had come to understand each other more.

It hadn’t been long since their first time running into one another at the dinner, about two months now, and, though they continued to sleep on the couch neither of them complained about back or neck problems. Lance knew he had no room to complain himself, even if he wanted. Not his apartment. Not his couch. No more nightmares. And sleeping next to the man of his dreams. There was definitely no room to complain.

Lance understood that not every night would he be able to help Keith sleep and neither vice versa. Lance still got nightmares. Keith still needed to go out for a run to expend some energy sometimes. They looked up some tips online together at times on getting more restful sleep, if only to find something to do. They rarely worked.

Sometimes they still went to the diner. Sometimes they stayed at Keith’s place to watched late night TV. Sometimes Lance got mad when Keith lit a cigarette and sometimes Keith did the same when Lance ordered coffee late at night. Lance still thought he had the high ground in that argument.

Lance bought groceries for Keith’s apartment and kept a lot of his belongings there. It was like they were true roommates. Lance barely ever went to his own apartment anymore.

Of course, he would never bring it up to Keith that it might just be a better solution for him to move in. That was risky, even for Lance. Even for someone as oblivious as Keith. Even for people who were not, in fact, in any sort of relationship other than really close friends at this point.

Lance sometimes imagined how that conversation would go and never stopped to consider it all the way through. It was too painful to imagine it all the way through.

This was Keith’s place. Why in the world would he let Lance live there just because Lance, the guy who slept in his living room and occasionally helped him sleep - though Keith helped Lance sleep way more than Lance could have possibly helped Keith - asked him? It would be insane to ask something like that.

And forget about moving to somewhere more comfortable. The couch was as intimate as they were prepared to take it. Even if Keith asked if the bed would be more comfortable (and knowing Keith, he probably would ask something like that thinking nothing at all was wrong) Lance would still say no. Screw his sleep at that point, his heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

But, other than that, they were practically a domestic couple. Whoever got home first would make dinner. Lance would make some of his mom’s recipes or even a couple he’d picked up from Hunk. Keith would end up making plain rice or grilled cheese until Lance complained about it too much and Keith decided to show him up with some Korean recipes he’d learned from the internet.

Lance knew when the dishwasher hadn’t been emptied or the laundry not flipped just like he would have at his own house. He even kept his assortment of skin care products on the counter of Keith’s bathroom, something Keith complained about but Lance knew he didn’t really care.

In fact, they were so domestic that Lance didn’t even realize how much until he was sitting at the round kitchen table, talking to Keith over his can of soda as Keith stirred some vegetables in a pan over the stove one night. When it did hit him, he practically choked on the amount of domestic that was shoved in his face.

Keith looked over. “You alright?”

Lance was chugging his drink now, trying to clear a passage of air while simultaneously hiding his quickly reddening face.

“Um, yeah. Yeah! I just gotta- um, go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” He said in a rush and, before Keith could say another word, Lance was out of there. When he was safely in the locked bathroom, he faced the mirror and let out a relieved, “Whew.”

He began noticing all those little things then. His bottles on the sink, for instance. And, while he had felt very overwhelmed before, and knew like he really should now, Lance felt completely different.

“Keith and I are practically living together.” He said to himself, staring down those bottles. They were next to Keith’s shaving cream. And the toothbrush holder had both of their brushes side by side. One blue. One red. “This is living together.” He decided and an almost giddy feeling rose up in him.

Then Keith called him for dinner and Lance swallowed hard. Could his heart take this?

After dinner, Keith went and took a shower. Lance sprawled on the couch and flipped through channels. He wondered if they watched too much television. Then scoffed because late night TV was his and Keith’s thing. They had a thing.

When Keith came back in his hair was dripping and he was in long sweatpants that went down to his toes. His t-shirt engulfed him and Lance wondered where he’d gotten it. Then he realized.

“Is that-” Lance squeaked, then tried again, after clearing his throat, “Is that my shirt?”

Keith’s eyebrows furrowed in obvious puzzlement before he looked down. Then his face turned red, scarlet enough to rival his lion. “Oh. Sorry, I’ll just go-” He quickly turned around, probably to go change, before Lance stopped him.

“It’s alright!” He shouted, probably a bit too desperately. “I mean, it’s okay.” Lance tried for nonchalance. He leaned back. “I don’t mind.”

Keith shifted. “Alright.” he said before shuffling to the couch. Lance pretended to look back at the TV but was actually dying inside. Keith was now sitting next to him. In his shirt.

They lived together. They slept next to each other. And now Keith wore his clothes.

What sort of being decided to bless yet curse him like this?

They watched TV for a while until Lance was feeling a little sleepy. He didn’t want to fall asleep though. It used to be because he didn’t want the nightmares, but now it was because he didn’t want to leave the one beside him alone. He could tell Keith was wired that night.

“Go to sleep. I’ll be fine.” Keith said, as if reading his mind. He patted Lance’s leg and Lance could only think how weird that was. Friends didn’t do that. Not even Hunk, the most touchy feely person Lance knew and his closest friend, did that. His mom did sometimes, but that was because she was his mom.

“Will you sleep?” Lance asked and Keith seemed to think on it.

“Maybe.”

Lance huffed. He could tell that wasn’t true, even if Keith was being optimistic about it. Funny, Lance had never taken Keith as an optimist.

There was only one thing to do at a time like this. He breathed in deep and swung his legs off the couch, hoisting himself up. He made for the kitchen.

“Lance? What are you doing?” Keith asked and when Lance didn’t answer he heard Keith follow.

Lance went for the cabinets, searching through each one. He had found something the other day that he was kind of excited about and now was the perfect time to use it. “Ah. There.” He said once he’d spotted it. He reached up easily, somewhere he knew Keith had to go on his tiptoes for, and grabbed the bag. Once he’d closed the cupboard and held the bag triumphantly, he turned to face the door where Keith stood.

Keith eyed the bag with unease. “You shouldn’t be drinking coffee.” He said, but something was off in his voice. Lance looked from the bag to Keith, trying to figure out what it was.

Eventually, he just decided to answer Keith’s comment. “I don’t have work tomorrow.”

“You’ll fuck up your sleep schedule.”

Lance shrugged. “One night’ll be fine.” Then he started to prepare the coffee. It was caramel, one of Lance’s favorites. He wondered what Keith was doing with a thing like this. He didn’t really enjoy sugary drinks.

“Lance-” Keith tried to argue again, but Lance cut him off.

“Keith, I’m going to stay up with you whether you like it or not. Now you don’t get any coffee, but do you want some tea or something? I think we have cookies in the cabinet…”

“No.” Keith said stiffly and Lance turned at the sound. “I’m fine.”

Something about that stung inside Lance suddenly. The last time Keith had said those words had been when they had been talking about Keith being alone. When Lance had apologized for leaving him like that.

And now it seemed something was bugging Keith again. Lance tapped his fingers on the counter. He hated this. He didn’t know what to do.

So he went back to making coffee. And, on top of that, went to boil water for tea as well. He would go out there with coffee, tea, and a good attitude. He was meant to stay up with Keith, so if they talked a little about whatever was up with the guy during that, then that was fine too.

When Lance came back out Keith was curled up on the couch. For a second, Lance almost thought he was asleep, but then he shifted and they met eyes. Keith’s dark irises were wide awake and alert. Lance wondered if he wanted to take a run. He wondered if he could keep up with a run that night.

Lance walked over and handed him his mug with the tea in it. Keith took it and held it closer and Lance knew he was cradling the warmth for comfort. The scent of tea briefly wafted over to him when Keith took the bag and steeped it. Then, when Lance sat down, his own coffee and caramel filled his nose.

He relaxed.

Keith sipped his tea.

The TV was already off so the only sounds around them were of Lance blowing on his coffee and Keith shifting every few seconds.

“I got that coffee for you.” Keith said and Lance was so pleasantly surprised he didn’t know what to say at first.

“Really?” He asked, a smile pulling at his lips. Keith shifted but didn’t respond.

“Still pretty wired?” Lance asked. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the silence. This silence wasn’t like the ones where they just didn’t know what to say or felt awkward after a heartfelt conversation. It was comfortable to them, but Lance also wanted to know how Keith was feeling.

But all Keith did was shrug. Now Lance was beginning to get a bit restless.

Lance put his coffee down and scooted closer. He looked at Keith head on. “Hey, what’s up?”

Momentarily, Keith looked as though he’d been caught in the headlights, then he went back to staring down at his mug. Something was obviously up and Keith wasn’t even trying to hide it. He rubbed his thumb along the ceramic and paint. The mug Lance had picked out for him was one of the only decorative ones Keith had: a dark blue with tiny cartoon painted yellow stars spattered over it.

Suddenly, Keith’s eyes were on him and it was all Lance could see. He forgot the mug in favor of the dark purple he was now lost in. Then, he was lost in Keith’s words.

“I wasn’t supposed to get attached.”

They were spoken so softly, yet so resolutely. Lance knew exactly what he had heard, but he couldn’t help being just a tiny bit confused.

“You’re right.” Keith looked down, once again into his tea. “You guys are my family. I used to think I had a lot of families and it hurt every time they left or I was sent away from them. I really didn’t know them all that well, but I thought that was the best I was going to get. I didn’t really know much better than that.”

“I got attached to the first few and decided not to do that anymore. It was a lot easier. Then I met Shiro and got attached to him and you saw where that got me. Then there was you guys and I thought that would never happen. But Shiro left. You guys left. And now you’re here again.”

Then Keith’s eyes came up to meet his once more, freezing him in place. “And I really shouldn’t have gotten attached.”

“But I won’t leave, Keith.” Lance said, only to be met with a shake of the head.

“Everyone does.”

“I won’t.” Lance said resolutely, but Keith still wouldn’t look at him.

Lance, determined to knock this notion from Keith’s head and not caring that it was probably a lot harder than he thought, grabbed Keith’s hand. To ground him. To keep him there. So he wouldn’t fly away.

“What if I’m attached to you too?” He asked.

Keith’s head shot up. Shock was plain in his eyes, as if he’d never even thought of that possibility before. Like the notion was unbelieveable.

Lance wanted him to believe in it.

They were so close. Lance could smell the tea’s strong scent. It had mint in it and something earth like. And Keith’s hair was no longer wet, but it was wild only in that way it was after scrubbing it with a towel and not combing it through did. And Keith’s eyes were on him. Only on him.

Lance wasn’t sure how, but he ended up pushing forward and their lips met. It was light and chaste and tasted like tea, obviously. When Lance leaned back they both seemed to have been struck speechless. Lance reached up to touch his lips, trying to come up with any words to describe the sensation that had been there just a second before.

Then their lips were together once more and Lance didn’t care if he ever had words for this moment or any like it. They were something too special for words. Only good enough for memory and the moment of.

This time their lips were strong against one another’s. It lasted a bit longer and was not as soft as the first, but it certainly was nothing more than what Keith could do while still holding a mug of tea in his lap.

When they separated this time, Lance didn’t have to contemplate in dazed silence. Instead, he gave a soft smile and reached up to brush along Keith’s cheek.

“I like being attached to you very very much.”

Then he took a deep breath. His eyes were on Keith, and Keith’s on him. “I don’t want you to leave either,” He admitted. “But that’s the risk we sometimes need to take in life to find happiness. I’d rather have great times with you now and risk getting my heart broken than never having it happen at all.” Lance took in a deep breath and held Keith’s eyes with his own. Keith was listening and Lance could tell he was scared of his words. Lance squeezed his hand tighter. “Because we need to live in the present.”

“We can’t be scared of the future or too anxious about our past. And we can’t miss it too much either because the past stays there and it’s never going to be the present again.”

“How can you risk that,” Keith asked, “If you know someone’s just going to leave in the end?”

“It’s a gamble. I think all of life is.” Lance said. “You don’t know they’re going to leave. You have to weigh it with yourself. You can play it safe, something I never thought I’d witness Keith ‘Impulsive Much?’ Kogane do. Or you can be happy and risk a little heartbreak. ”

“I’ll tell you now though,” Lance said, “If I ever break your heart, break my nose.” He smiled and winked, fracturing some of the tension and resulting in a light punch in the arm.

Keith put down his tea and turned back to Lance. His hand curled back into Lance’s and Lance held on. They simply looked at each other for a moment until Keith finally said, a small, uncertain smile on his face, “Okay.”

Lance could still tell Keith was tentative. Scared. This was a whole new side of him Lance had never seen, but it all still seemed like Keith to him.

He just hoped that one day Keith wouldn’t be quite so scared of this. Would see letting people in as an opportunity instead a bad decision. And Lance knew it was up to him to help him.

And it was up to their teammates too. And, most importantly, it was up to Keith.

Lance and Keith curled up on the couch. Their drinks had long gone cold, abandoned on the tables on either side of the sofa. The coffee and emotion had woken Lance right up and he doubted he’d be going to sleep anytime soon himself, but he noticed that Keith wasn’t tapping his feet or drumming his fingers. When his breath evened out and Keith was asleep Lance sighed, relieved.

-/-

The next day Keith woke up in the living room alight from the mid-afternoon sun and a sound asleep Lance right beside him.

Lance’s caramel coffee was cold and Keith looked at it from his spot on the couch. It wasn’t as menacing as he’d thought. Just another tiny thing he’d blown out of proportion.

It was funny how things were perceived like that. Something could be insignificant to one person yet mean the world to another. One day caramel coffee could be a constant grave omen and the next a harmless, bland beverage.

Keith wasn’t sure if he could ever trust that Lance wouldn’t leave him. No one had ever stayed for Keith.

But was it something he could risk? Was it something he would take that chance for?

It was scary and disorienting and crazy. But Keith knew he couldn’t let the chance go so easily.

It was one dream he wouldn’t let slip away.

#vld #voltron #klance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #fanfic #voltron fanfic

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