Work Text:
Takes place after the Neverseen are defeated. Mentions Lodestar events and things related to Lodestar.
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"Keefe?" Her voice called out into the darkness. "You are here right? 'Cuz I would sound pretty stupid talking to myself in the dark." He almost smiled at her attempt at humor.
"Yeah," he managed to say, although it wasn't much louder than a whisper. "Yeah, I'm here." Physically, he was there. But mentally? That was a whole other story, which he couldn't quite figure out how to star or end. The pain was gnawing him out and he couldn't stand it.
So he'd escaped to a place where he had thought that no one would be able to find him. Wrong. She'd found him. She always did.
"Are you okay? Is something wrong? Are you hurt? I can call Elwin," she rushed to say. He shook his head. They both knew that the pain was internal; all in their minds.
"No, I'm fine, really Foster. You can stop worrying about me." She sat down next to him.
"I will never stop worrying about you Keefe. You know that," She said softly, taking his hand in hers. Flashbacks to his screams when Brant branded it flooded her eyes and she blinked hard to clear it. He squeezed reassuringly.
"You okay?" He asked, not letting go. She couldn't bring herself to speak so she just nodded. Keefe leaned against her, so close even a paper would be too fat to slide between them. Heat rushed to her face, but she didn't move away.
"So... What do we do now?" He asked, his voice softening as he turned to face her. So many people had been lost in the war. Mr. Forkle. Cyrah. Jolie. Kenric. Brant. Brielle. And in a way, the Vackers had lost Alvar too.
"We pick up the pieces and bend them back together," Sophie said, with a sigh. "We fix what we broke, and heal what hurts." This pulled a teasing smile onto his face and she blushed, unsure why.
"What?" She asked, her face bright red. He grinned, shaking his head teasingly, making her blush even more.
"Who knew that under all of that Foster-ness, you were so philosophical and wise and all knowing?" He asked with a smirk. She pulled her hair in front of her face, embarrassed.
"I'm turning into Forkle!" She wailed, dramatically. Keefe's smirk grew wider and she didn't dare ask why. Plus, he told her anyway.
"I am sooo rubbing off on you, Foster. And it's definitely a compliment. Forget the old Forklenator, and become to Keefester!" He exclaimed. She couldn't help but laugh. Soon enough, they were both falling over themselves, laughing and giggling. They hadn't laughed like this in a long time. Nobody laughed in war. And now that the War was over...
It was something... new. And it felt nice.
They were slowly working their way back to normal, one cautious step at a time.
"I never realized how cute you look while laughing," Keefe said, poking her cheek, when they managed to pull themselves together again. She flushed. He leaned closer, grinning as her blush deepened.
"Although you look even cuter when you blush," he said. Sophie stumbled backwards, her clumsiness failing her once more. He caught her, managing to break her falling as they tumbled down. Somewhere in their fall, she noticed how much warmth his ice cold blue eyes radiated. How fierce they were whenever someone threatened her. How strong they were around everyone else, how guarded, and yet around her they were vulnerable and soft and caring.
"You're staring," he said, his voice unsure and wondering. She marveled at how his smirk gave him an ever-teasing look, and now he looked so free, so young, so... innocent.
"You're beautiful," she stated, pulling him closer for a tight hug. She felt him smile into her shoulder and smiled softly. He held her tightly, as if she was his world; and she was; she hugged back just as fiercely; he was hers too.