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Trembling palms held firm to the canvas bundle in her arms. She had vowed to return his spear to him no matter the cost, an oath that could never be broken if such a notion ever crossed her mind. Even as her heart sank lower and lower behind her ribs, as tears yearned to form in desert-dry eyes, while her entire world shattered around her when she finally found him. She had no choice but to face the hellish reality that this stranger, this man, bestowed upon her love a happiness she never could.
Fists clenched so hard her knuckles popped, but with every ounce of strength and dignity she yet possessed, breath whistling sharply through her nose, she took her first determined step towards them. Hyunckel needed his weapon more than he needed her: then, now, and evermore. For this moment alone she had traversed these scalding depths on largely her own merits, guided to the weapon's master. She would see this through. She had to meet her destiny.
The stranger sensed her approach long before Hyunckel did, sharp and curious eyes trained on her every move. With a quiet grunt she nodded, willed him to be the gentleman Hyunckel seemed to believe in. Although he did not return the gesture, when his black-clad palm reached to her love's shoulder – as Hyunckel's affection tripled when he clasped his flank in turn, her heart fire and ice both – to urge him to look her way, Hyunckel's eyes widened.
Somehow, through the pain, through his befuddlement, she smiled warmly up at him. “Hyunckel...”
“Amy. What brings you to a place like this?”
“There was-” With a sharp inhale she steeled herself for that which she must accomplish. “Something that must be done, by my hand and no other.”
At long last, the weight of his spear – the weight of her resolve, her devotion, her burdensome heart – shifted in her grasp, arms reluctant to admit defeat offering his heavy weapon. Anxious eyes watched the shift of his own, the confusion with which he regarded her lowered to his most precious treasure. The tremor that ran through his open palms reaching between hers must surely be a trick of the light. After all, her Hyunckel did not falter.
“Amy...”
“You can't fight without it, right?” With all the love in her heart she beamed across at his clouded expression. “You once told me that it was a dear, important friend. It belongs nowhere but with you.”
Behind him, the man with pointed ears spared him a sidelong glance, unreadable expression unseen for her love's quiet intensity.
With stilted movements Hyunckel eventually relieved her of her burden, cradled to his own chest in a manner resembling her. She found comfort in that similarity, at least. If tentative, its fabric barrier fell away to his insistent tugs. She'd never seen such relief on her stoic hero before. If she could only carry this moment for eternity, she would never feel pain again.
Her mission was over. For him alone – barring the guilt she tried to relieve – she had come all this way to return that which was most precious to him which she had so selfishly cast aside. He had already rejected her once. He could do so a thousand times more and still she would stay at his side. ...So long as his companion did not object. It all made sense now, why he never looked her way no matter what she tried. Why the unfathomable depths of his sorrow only intensified whenever he gazed upon his spear. In his heart, he was still searching for this man.
“Won't you introduce me to your companion?” a voice warmer than the lava pools dotted about them and richer than any pudding on a feasting table melted the silence between them.
Her head snapped up to gaze into a gentle smile, the hand not resting upon Hyunckel's shoulder kindly extended towards her. She smiled back, tense and bittersweet, and all at once she was blinking back tears that until this point never fell. She had lost completely. Even without a true warrior's heart, she was far too brutish for Hyunckel's tastes. Still had so much maturing to do...
“Oh.” Snapped from his reverie, Hyunckel turned first to his heartmate then back to her, beaming bright as the sun. “Larhart, this is Amy. She's been invaluable on our quest.”
She swallowed down a bitter lump in her throat as she forced her expression happier. For him to say such modest words, knowing well that she'd done next to nothing compared to the rest of them, he must have truly believed them. She was unworthy...
“A pleasure, Miss Amy,” this Larhart character greeted.
Reminded of what she ought to do, she grasped his gentle hand. Hyunckel's own must surely feel similar, rough callouses offset by a tenderness she could never match.
“Likewise,” she finally choked out.
“And Amy,” Hyunckel continued, oblivious to her plight as he wrapped his arm more fully about Larhart's back, “this is Larhart. My...”
“Your treasure,” she nodded solemnly. No other endearment was enough. “It was he who gave you this spear, was it not?”
Uncertainty joined the shock that filled his snowy face, but eventually, he nodded.
Larhart was the first to remove himself from their miniature standstill, the hand newly freed raised effortlessly to open air.
“We should bring her to dinner.”
“What?!” two startled voices rang out. She and Hyunckel exchanged a look of surprise.
“She has come all this way,” Larhart continued as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “What incorrigible hosts we would be to give her no chance to rest.”
Hyunckel was the first to recover, and with something of a wavering smile, he gingerly took her wrist. “Now that you mention it...”
Her cheeks burned hotter than bubbling lavafalls as she allowed herself be led away, her own fingers curled firmly about Hyunckel's unclad wrist. Smooth muscle felt so pleasant beneath her touch, but she couldn't think about that now. Not in the presence of the rival who had beaten her to Hyunckel's heart.
For all that they apparently lived in a cave, she'd visited worse dwellings. Their home was lined with the bare essentials for any abode. A hefty granite table barren but for a single bauble occupied the centre of the room, the typical four stools arranged neatly about it. Pans hung from metal hooks protruding from the bedrock of what must be the kitchen wall, stationed above an array of simple pots. In a modest alcove just off of the circular stood... a single bed...
She shook her head in a vain attempt to dissipate the heat that left her dizzy. It was indecent to pry into such personal matters. More than that, Hyunckel would feel uncomfortable with her assumptions. After everything, he deserved better.
When again she cast her gaze about the space, desperate for something to reclaim her attention, she paused. Set in their racks against the far wall, their weapons leaned against one another for support. So even those were...
“It's a lovely home.”
“Thank you,” Larhart smiled sweetly at her. “There is not much that survives down here, but we manage.”
“What is it that makes you stay? Surely there would be more comfortable dwellings elsewhere?”
A clang rang from the kitchen. She glanced over to see Hyunckel hurriedly pick a pan from the floor, although Larhart hardly seemed bothered. Was this a common occurrence? Or did his ears not sting as keenly as one might expect?
“We have our reasons,” the Darkling continued. “It serves to keep unwanted guests at bay – those who might seek our heads. But if I had to determine the primary cause…” He angled his face just far enough to spare a shrouded smirk at his partner fumbling about. “It reminds Hyunckel of home.”
“I... see.”
She really didn't. Even for one as unusual as Hyunckel, what had he gone through in his life to find home in the sweltering heat dripping through their clothes? Truly, she knew next to nothing about him.
“And I am not averse to it,” long arms folded easily over his chest as he again turned to face her. “I do not feel the heat as humans do, nor does it leave me quite so breathless.”
“Is that so?”
She still felt rather faint. Larhart must have noticed this, for in an instant he had pulled out a chair which wobbly legs eagerly dropped her into. Not a moment later he sat across from her, a canteen nudged over the table towards her. Condensation slightly stung and steamed about her fingers as she grasped it, but it mattered not as she gratefully imbibed.
In an instant she was coughing, eyes watering, empty fist curled before her mouth. Whatever the putrid concoction was, it wasn't water. Through the tears she glared at him. ...Until the blur fled from her vision and she realised he winced.
“Forgive me, I should have mentioned that water does not survive the heat this far down. We make use of this substance in its place.”
Now that he mentioned it, the last drops in her waterskin had dried up hours ago. She couldn't be certain she sweat properly, either.
The firepit sizzled. Why did they even need one when it was just as hot outside?
“Monsters are sometimes drawn to the scent,” Larhart explained unprompted. Honestly, could he read her mind or something?
“It's easier to defend a single entrance,” Hyunckel added, swirling whatever was in the pan.
Amy flushed. She wasn't aware he had been listening.
“Clever,” she finally muttered, her throat raspy and tight.
She was being a terrible guest. These two had invited her into their home after she came all this way to greet her love, had offered her nourishment and ensured she did not lose consciousness, seemed to care so genuinely for her overall comfort, and this was how she repaid them? By offering nought but dull dinner conversation and doubting the one who healed Hyunckel's pains? Leather groaned beneath her grip.
“You needn't trouble yourself over such matters.” Larhart reached across the table towards her as though to offer comfort but caught himself a moment later, brows lifted with surprise. Awkward hands returned to their place on the tabletop as he stiffly cleared his throat. Tight lips pulled into the vision of irony as he nodded to his lover behind him. “He, too, is hardly one for conversation.”
Despite herself, she smiled. She could believe that.
“Unlike you, it seems.”
Larhart lowered a brow.
Again her cheeks flared. “I only meant that you appear to have much to say. Do you find yourself lonely at times?”
For once this gave him pause. A finger curled across his chin as thoughtful eyes frowned down at the vessel. Just as the silence dragged on too long he twisted to gaze back at Hyunckel with a softness she had seen in mirrors. “Not lonely, no. I think he appreciates the breaks in monotony, even on his quiet days. I know he listens, and that is more than enough for me. I needn't hear his answers aloud to know how he truly feels.”
Yet again, without that even being his intention, he proved that he was the greater partner. That he could understand Hyunckel so intrinsically when she struggled to make sense of their world... it was enviable. Admirable, too, if she could truly put her grievances behind her. Hyunckel... he deserved someone capable of understanding him so completely.
Warring emotions swiftly gave way to a heat-resistant plate scraping softly on the table before her. Heat prickled her cheeks as her gaze followed that long arm to meet Hyunckel's kindly expression, not quite cheerful but amicable all the same.
“Oh, thank you.”
He merely nodded before the makeshift counter called to him, a plate balanced in each hand upon his return. Natural movements settled effortlessly beside his treasure. Shoulder to shoulder, elbows brushing without knocking one another, a perfect harmony in each other's space. Oh how she envied them their contentment.
Hyunckel hardly blew on his meal before shoving a forkful into his mouth. Just what was he made of? It had to be even hotter than the steaming room about them.
After several powerful huffs she, too, took a bite. Delectable spices melted over her tongue even as her teeth fought the leathery texture. She dared not consider what they needed to eat to get by down here.
Who knew that Hyunckel could cook? ...Who knew she would ever get to try his home cooking?
That thought, far more than the food, melted her to her core. She could settle for this, at least.
Even Larhart was remarkably quiet as the trio ate, only the clink of cutlery and scrape of stone interrupting the the hush that befell them. It was... pleasant, in its own way. When had she last dined with family? Before she had confessed to Hyunckel, no doubt.
Larhart gathered the dishes with such ease when they were finished that she felt she had only blinked and they'd vanished completely. Not long after Hyunckel stood she followed suit, watched rippling muscle stretch out above him with every languid movement. He paused with strong arms tucked behind his head as though it only just occurred to him he had an audience.
“You're welcome to the bed,” he garbled out, face turned away. “We've only got the one, but it's yours tonight.”
She tugged her cape tighter about her shoulders, suddenly all too warm in the steaming room. Careful breaths reined in her errant thoughts. “Oh, uh, thank you, but... what about the both of you?”
“It has been far too long since I last hunted with my friend.” Pearly teeth stretched into an eager grin as he turned again to face her. “I'm looking forward to it”
Heart pounding, she gulped. “And... Larhart?”
“He'll stay to look after you,” Hyunckel shrugged flippantly.
“And that's alright with you?”
Heavy brows never rose although his excitement waned. Still he regarded her with those eyes that loved her not, utterly baffled. “Why wouldn't it be?”
Tightening fists curled together atop her chest as though they could halt her bitter smile. Of course she didn't mean anything to him. She wasn't a threat. She wasn't a hero. There was nothing she possessed that he didn't find in himself or the arms of another. And although they had only met today, Larhart seemed similarly unbothered by her presence.
“No, it's nothing... Forget I said anything.” Memories of her siblings preparing for hunts flooded her mind, and with them her confidence returned. “May your hunt be fruitful.”
Oh how she wished she could join him. Sculpted muscles rippled as he checked his equipment, brilliant spear gleaming with renewed vigour. A hero emerged from that powerful stance whether he acknowledged that part of himself or not.
“He'll look after you,” Hyunckel repeated reverently, as though that notion should bring her joy, before he finally disappeared from the doorway.
Now that he mentioned it, she was exhausted. Between the long journey, the overbearing heat, and the shock of her life in finding a rival for Hyunckel's affections, this day had dragged on forever. She ought to embrace his hospitality.
Stepping into their bedroom was downright pleasant compared to the inferno just beyond, as if it lay perpetually in the throes of a whoosh spell. Two people could comfortably embrace in the lowered temperature.
With a weary sigh she allowed herself to fall back against the coarse sheets, her own flimsy scabbard tucked to her chest. How was she supposed to sleep with a stranger about? Especially the one who took everything from her, long before she and Hyunckel had ever met...
...No, that was far too selfish of her. Larhart had been nothing but kind. It was no wonder that her love had fallen for one such as he. If Hyunckel did not occupy her entire heart, or if she had met that compassionate Darkling before her gallant warrior, perhaps she might have fallen for him instead.
Hyunckel's scent embraced her as her grimace graced the pillow. While it lacked the warmth of when she had clung to him, face pressed into his unyielding back, it reassured her all the same.
Knuckles rapped lightly against the doorframe. She stiffened, but did not answer.
Despite her concerns, he did not enter the room.
“Miss Amy?” came that quiet call, as soft as she ever knew him. “Are you still awake?”
What else did she have to lose? Already she lay atop the bed they shared, yearning for the embrace of one she could never attain. She could hardly disgrace herself further. Even as she kept her back to him.
“I am. Was there something you needed?”
He shuffled, perhaps shifted from foot to foot, but still did not come in. “I had hoped that making a gracious host of myself would mollify any hostility you felt, but if you'll forgive my saying so, you yet seem rather displeased with my presence.”
Leather groaned beneath her tightening fist. A smile devoid of mirth stretched onto thin lips. “How can I not be...?” she muttered bitterly. “He has only ever had eyes for you. What I'm going through now... knowing I can never be with him no matter how desperately my heart aches for it... Have you any idea the depth of my suffering?”
Twisted lips trembled. Dampness seeped into the coarse cloth now clinging to her cheek.
And in the hush, two simple words pierced her heart.
“I do.”
Disbelief flooded through her as she scowled into the darkness ahead. How could he possibly know this longing?
More shuffling, and a soft thud as he slid against the wall; his back to her, most likely. Why would he let himself be so vulnerable?
“We met upon the battlefield. In war, there is no place for bonds beyond your comrades. Before we had even traded blows I knew I had found my equal. But I was angry, bitter and rash. I allowed myself to be swept in the tides of emotion from our circumstances. I let down my guard, mentioned things about myself I had told no other. And... Hyunckel wept for me.”
“Hyunckel did...?” she whispered blankly.
Larhart nodded, she thought, the scrape of hair against stone.
“When I lay there bested by his hand, I thought my time had come.” A quiet sigh dissipated in temperate air, and for several long moments, she thought that might have been the end of it. Larhart shifted again, subtly, although she could not decipher the sound. “ I entrusted my spear to his care in the hopes he would accomplish that which I could not. It was the least I could do after he opened his heart to my pain.”
“All this time...” Drawn to his plight she finally rolled over. In the kitchen's gentle glow she beheld his silhouette, forearm lain loosely across a risen knee. He looked so... sad. “That spear he cared more about than his own life...”
“Indeed. A memento of me.”
“How did you survive?”
“In truth, I know not the specifics myself. But here I am in the flesh. Knowing well that there had to be a reason for my newfound life, I travelled in search of rumours. People always talk when the world is shaken by recent events.”
Gradually she allowed her knees to unfurl, the arm not wrapped about them extended towards him in the empty space. “You saved him, didn't you?”
Subtly his head tilted towards her, half hidden by the frame as it was, and with his single visible eye, his smile was bright. “But of course. With my master's spirit swept from this world without a trace, my companions as dead as the day I lost them, I could hardly let this vicious world take from me my final solace.”
Such a moving tale seized her aching throat in a vice while her heart was torn asunder. “You truly love him.”
“As do you.”
She swallowed thickly, then finally, knees tucked half beneath her, she allowed herself to sit up to gaze across at him more completely in the backlit gloom. “Yes... I know it likely makes no difference, and it can never atone for all the pain I have caused him. But... I'm glad you make him happy. Even if I am not its cause... he deserves to find peace. More than anything else, that is my wish for him.”
Filled with that endless compassion, Larhart's warmth radiated through his tone. “You have my thanks. I know it will gladden his heart to know your approval. He is... most merciful towards those committed to change, you will find.”
That was putting it mildly. Popp would swear in broken ballads of backhanded praise to the strength of Hyunckel's character, citing that he could never forgive an enemy so easily as her stalwart paramour. Yet beneath his staunch refusal lay a kind heart as well, she was told.
“You are far stronger than you may wish to believe,” Larhart stated simply. “Very few in your position could come all this way alone, much less stay in the midst of those who bring you misery.”
“I wasn't really alone.” Wry lips drew into half a sneer as she allowed her legs to drift from the mattress, the coolish stone pleasant beneath bare feet. “There were many who threw themselves recklessly into the fray so I could conserve my strength. I'm sure they battle still, knowing their ilk.” She would never truly understand those who thirsted for blood and battle, but those muscle-headed fools were her greatest supporters, all the more so when they bore witness to her conviction. Even now they somehow lifted her spirits.
“Yet you finished this leg of your journey all on your lonesome. Even guided here by my spear, that is no easy feat.” Larhart's grin seemed to glow in the flickering light beyond him. “Take pride in that.”
“Why is it so important to you that I do not lose heart? Despite my garb, I am hardly heroic.”
“Because,” Larhart rose lithely to his feet, arms folded neatly over his chest where he leaned against the frame, “it would break Hyunckel's heart to see you this way.”
Her own ached at this simple truth.
“He bears great appreciation for those who better themselves,” he continued. “If you wish for him to truly see you as you are, it will take great effort.”
Nothing could argue that reasoning. Amy had no words.
“You must have much to think about. Allow me to take my leave of you.” His gentle compassion flooded the room from where he stood, head tilted slightly, softened eyes kind. “I bid you good night, Miss Amy.”
“...Good night, Larhart. Thank you, for your enlightening talks.”
“It was my pleasure.”
If he were any more gracious, he may just have bowed. Instead strong feet carried him away with all the grace of an alleycat. Her own returned to the bed upon which she lay, the solitude, fatigue and almost hopeful mood slowing thoughts and breaths alike. Tomorrow, she would know what he meant. For now, she followed heavy eyelids and loosened limbs into a dreamless sleep.
When she awoke, Hyunckel sat slumped against the same wall Larhart had the night before, long, armoured legs stretched across the entrance. She would have believed him asleep had easy movements not guided him to his feet when she tugged on her boots. He didn't even stagger.
“Did you sleep okay?” His gruff tone broke through the quiet haze. Surely he had dozed off once or twice?
“Far better than I could have hoped, thank you.”
His thankful smile greeted her oozing heart. The feeling lingered far longer than was reasonable. Soft sizzling broke through the silence, and as she remembered to breathe she was enveloped in a delightful scent.
“Larhart's cooking is in a league of its own. You shouldn't leave here without trying some.”
Even if she weren't imposing, her growling stomach insisted far more than he did.
By the time she gathered her scabbard at her hip and took stock of her magic power he already sat at the table, bare hands locked on its surface before him, tender gaze glued to his lover's easy movements where seasoned the food. Even at rest, he looked so gallant in his gleaming armour.
Emboldened by her night in his bed, she took her place beside him. Surprisingly cool metal soothed her prickling skin where she leaned against it. How cruel she must have been to take such a wonderful part of him away.
Larhart beamed brightly at her as he set their plates before them, and with all that she was she returned his warmth.
Hyunckel was deeply loved. Even if his heart lay not with her, that was all that mattered. She could appreciate, now, all the joy that Larhart brought him, especially when it was so blatant in the grin he cast him across the table, striking grey eyes soft in a way she had never seen.
She almost forgot to eat, enraptured as she was.
Despite Hyunckel's claims, she could not choose a favourite between their meals. Both cooked well and used the same ingredients, pleasing spice dancing across her tongue. But she could hardly fault him for being enamoured with his chosen mate.
Comfortable silence enshrouded them again with a sensation akin to home. Hyunckel's shoulder brushed hers as he made to take her empty plate, and in her contentment her heart hardly fluttered. Truly, she was glad she had made this journey despite her concerns, for their domesticity was a treasure like none other. With a heart as full as her stomach, she could leave in high spirits today.
“You are welcome to visit at any time if you so desire it,” Larhart seemed almost to glow. Again his head tilted, kind lips stretched contentedly. “We may even greet you sooner if you send word ahead.”
The sleep had done her a world of good. Enough so that their offer was almost tempting. It would be quite some time before she could accept if she ever did at all, but knowing she was not so unwanted that she would not be welcomed in the future warmed her heart. Thanks to their generosity, she could return to her people with her head held high if not a spring in her step. Thanks to them, she beamed.