Chapter Text
This, this was pleasant. That was the idea that bloomed in his chest and settled around him like comforting blanket. It had been a long time since he could afford a moment of this feeling of being safe, secure and- he glanced down to the sleeping form next to him- loved.
There had been a time when such a simple pleasure that he now experienced was nothing but whim. Something of everyday life or most likely not there at all. Deemed unworthy. Not enough luxury. He had been such a blind fool, but he would never admit it.
Their last log in the fire place cracked. Flames stretching upwards, consuming the wood. Soft looking embers resting underneath the charred wood, pulsing with warmth. The flames made the lights and shadows dance. Flickering and breathing upon the leather canvas, bags, cutlery, clothes fashioned up to dry. Really, his life had become so different.
All his life he had chased after this exact feeling. In castles, counsouls, libraries, politics, parties, religion, but most of all in the past.
The wind rattled their pitched up walls, it's song cold and lonely. Before it brushed past them and sought comfort within the treetops. This was nice. The flames made the wood crackle and sing and the lights dimmed a bit. It was not long before they would bow out and they would be left but only the embers left to watch over them.
Livius settled himself down upon their bedding of fabrics and pelts, letting his eyes rest upon the tattoed face of the man who had defeated him. Captured, judged, sentenced, consoled, eloped and saved him. It was the oddest thing. It was no real answer why this fate had happened. In every logical scenario for the crimes he had been charged for he would have been executed... Or worse. But it had not happened.
In any logical scenario there would be no option for a forest vegabond to stand up and defeat an army of demons, devoted followers and an archdemon led by an old God. But he had. There should not have been a future where he, of all people, would be allowed to lay down with that very same landscape wanderer and gently tuck away the soft strands of wayward locks of hair. But it was happening. Right now.
As it were there had been the possibility of a much more likely future. A future where, after the old god's defeat, he would have been made an example of. To be forced to lose one self to tranquility. But that had not happened. A future were the holy hero became a Saint buried under forms and etiquette to baost about the victory. But that had also not happened, instead the two of them had eloped.
Livius sighed and stretched. The flames kneeled while the embers hummed. A soft kiss landed upon Valior's forehead, the man making a slight sound while he was gathered up and held close. Just like the light, the shadows embraces them and all that was noticeable still: the soft embers whispering the tune of tomorrow.