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Glenn had been back in camp for a few months now, the war soon coming to a close.
It had been sudden when they found him: he had gone by Garrett and worked with a group of mercenaries, but as soon as Glenn saw them, his years-long facade dropped in seconds. Glenn had explained why he was still alive, but the whole thing just made Sylvain's head spin.
So much had happened since Glenn was gone.
Everyone had changed so much, and Glenn got to come back unscathed. Well, that wasn't entirely true: he had been in hiding because he was convinced Dimitri had died at the Tragedy of Duscur, not the other way around. It turned out they were both still very much alive, and a lot of choice words were shared between the five of them.
Glenn was awake, keeping watch while the others slept in their tents. He wore a long, plain tunic and his hair in a braid that fell to the small of his back. In a way, it almost looked like Ingrid's old hairstyle. Maybe she had taught him how to do it, all those years ago. Sylvain was sitting next to him in front of a blazing fire, shadows playing on their faces. The nights got cold as they waited in Gaspard to devise a plan before laying siege to the Empire. Not quite as cold as Gautier or Fraldarius, but cold enough to make Sylvain want to huddle up for warmth.
Glenn felt Sylvain's eyes on him and turned to face him, exhaustion plain on his face. "What."
"Nothin'. You just look mighty warm over there." Glenn huffed a small laugh, leaning back onto his hands.
"Your eyes deceive you. I've never been the kind of person who stays warm." His gaze focused on Sylvain, almost a little cheeky. "You, however, are a furnace."
Sylvain blushed, scratching at his head. "The furnace must be broken then, cause I'm freezing." As if to prove it, he quickly pressed both of his hands to Glenn's face. The other man let out a sharp gasp and yanked back, Sylvain laughing at his reaction.
"Goddess!"
Sylvain went back to hiding his hands in between his thighs, rubbing them together to produce some warmth. "I told ya. And you felt downright blazing over there." Sylvain scooched himself a little closer, nudging at Glenn's shoulder with his cheek. "Room for one more?"
"Saints, Sylvain. Do you ever stop flirting?" Glenn had flushed at the contact, but hadn't pushed him away.
"Nah, don't think so." He let his head drift, ending up nestled in Glenn's lap. Glenn brought a hand back to rustle Sylvain's hair, tangling a few fingers in between little locks of red. Sylvain let the warmth of the fire lick at his face and let out a long, contented sigh.
"How long do you expect me to stay like this? With your thick skull, my legs will go numb before the hour ends."
Sylvain wriggled in his lap, pressing his nose up against Glenn's stomach. "As long as I say so. You're trapped." He chuckled against the fabric of Glenn's clothes, the hand in his hair still petting him fondly.
The hand stopped, however, and Sylvain turned up to see Glenn's mouth hanging open in awe at the sky.
"Sylvain. Look."
Sylvain's eyes glanced up to see a huge ribbon of light twisting through the evening sky, brilliant and multicolored. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. He rested the back of his head on Glenn's lap, looking directly upwards to drink in the scenery.
"Wow. What a great view." Sylvain's hands folded on his chest and he glanced away, finding that staring too long made spots appear in the corners of his vision. He looked back to see Glenn's face with two new tear streaks on his cheeks. Sylvain reached a hand up and rubbed at the damp cheek with the back of his knuckles, Glenn leaning into the touch.
"Sorry. It's just so nice to be back with you all. To experience things like - like this - with you all again."
Sylvain nodded, making a choice not to comment on the hitch in his voice. "You're here now. None of us are letting you go again." Sylvain spoke with confidence, and Glenn looked down so fondly at him.
"You really have grown up, Sylvain."
"Let's save that judgment call for another time." Sylvain laughed at himself, Glenn joining in as he covered his smile with the back of his hand. Times like this, when Glenn would allow his guard to drop and check his ego made everything so much easier to handle with him. Most days, the two argued and squabbled over all sorts of things. But tonight, sitting out under the stars as they kept watch? Sylvain wished this night would stretch on for years.
After a few precious moments of silence, Glenn spoke up. "When this war is over, where will you go?" The question caught Sylvain off guard, focusing his eyes up at the other man.
"Uh, well I gotta. Go be the Margrave, deal with all of the responsibilities that come with being a noble." Glenn shook his head, hand back massaging Sylvain's scalp.
"If Dimitri makes good on his promise to pardon me, who's to say he can't just let you forfeit your status? You never wanted to be Margrave anyway."
The question left Sylvain feeling winded. Leave it to that patented Fraldarius bluntness. Sylvain sighed and stared out into the darkness. "I guess." Glenn kept rubbing at his head, waiting for more.
"Why?" Sylvain started, leaning up into Glenn's touch. "You gonna sweep me off my feet?"
"You wish." Glenn smirked at him, the hand in his hair now giving a playful tug. Sylvain grunted and scrunched his nose at the sensation.
"I guess I could. If I had it my way, I'd just live out in the middle of nowhere, where no one knew who I was, and spend my time away from everyone." He sounded pensive, yet the words sounded hollow even to his own ears. "But I can't. Too much is holding me here." The meaning behind his words remained unspoken, but Sylvain knew Glenn heard it clear as day.
I wish I could run away like you did. If I could, I would.
Glenn nodded, curling his back to move in closer to the man on his lap. His braid swung close, Sylvain lifting a hand to twirl at the very edges. "It sounds a lot better than it is." Glenn spoke softly, words shared only between the two. "Every day was like drinking diluted poison. Cursed to keep drinking, even though clear waters were a short distance away. I knew I would die if I did not find you all soon." Sylvain rolled in his lap, heaving himself up to pull Glenn into a crushing hug.
Glenn accepted, his lithe frame dwarfed against Sylvain's wide shoulders and torso. Sylvain felt Glenn's chin perch on his shoulder, eyes staring into the raging fire.
"Do you want to know what I would like to do? Once the war is over?" Glenn's tone was soft, inviting. Sylvain couldn't leave him waiting.
"Tell me."
Glenn parted, eyes now trained on Sylvain. The similarities between Glenn and Felix were obvious, but the differences were quite plain on their faces. Glenn looked in his eyes when he spoke, with those deep blue eyes that he could get lost in. He had various scars like the rest of them, but had a burn that stretched from his neck up onto his cheek, a permanent reminder of his desertion.
He also was not quite as prickly with Sylvain, perhaps as penance for being gone for so long. Sylvain couldn't really tell; Glenn had always been a rough and tumble teen like the rest of them, but the two of them didn't fight. They had been thick as thieves, the masterminds behind every clever trick the younger kids would set up. When Glenn was gone, suddenly Sylvain had to take care of everyone all by himself. And he was terrible at that, as if it wasn't painfully obvious.
"I want to dedicate my life to Faerghus, but not as a knight. Never again." He laughed, but it sounded forced. "I do not care how. Dimitri and I have spoken, and he said he would like me to work with him and Dedue on the reconstruction of Duscur. I would happily do that, but I do not know if I can do that without you all for so long." Another laugh, half choked with a sob. "I don't want to waste another moment away from you all. To pay for the mistake I made."
Sylvain broke the hug, his hands on Glenn's shoulders. His cheeks were a little damp again, and Sylvain rested his forehead against Glenn's and let their breaths mingle. "I'll go with."
"What?" Glenn's eyes widened, the flames lighting his face in irregular patterns of grey and white.
"If his Highness wants you in Duscur, I'll go with. Plus, Dedue is an incredible cook, going along with you is just an excuse to get -"
Glenn pulled him back into the hug, Sylvain remembering that the strength of a Fraldarius was nothing to scoff at. He scrambled for purchase, eventually settling for wrapping his arms around Glenn in return.
"Of all the people who would say that, I never expected it to be you."
Sylvain snorted. "Harsh."
Glenn released him, Sylvain letting his hands linger on the other's hips. "I guess Ingrid will be busy being a knight. And my brother, advisor to the King … quite the title."
"Yeah, our babies are all grown up, huh." Sylvain mused as Glenn nodded in agreement.
"Emissary to Duscur. A worthy endeavor, I am thankful Dimitri trusts me with such an important job."
"Oh please. You're practically perfect, Dimitri would be crazy not to pick you. Plus, I'd say you three are the best men in Fodlan to rebuild Duscur."
Glenn saw no reason to argue with that, muffling a yawn as Sylvain spoke. Sylvain grinned at him, trailing a hand up his arm. "Getting sleepy? Want to switch off watch with Ashe and Dedue?"
Glenn tried to respond but yawned instead, looking back up to see the sky lights had mostly dispersed into the night. Sylvain had already gotten up, rousing the next two men for their shift. Ashe stretched as he exited his tent, Dedue following close behind. Glenn offered the two a nod, Ashe giving an excited wave and Dedue simply giving a nod in response. Glenn made his way to his tent, Sylvain getting up to walk beside him.
"Still cold, Sylvain? I think your tent is on the other side of the encampment."
"Aw, I thought you missed me. Now you're kicking me out?"
Glenn pushed at Sylvain shoulder, opening the tent flap. "You can stay. If you still flail in your sleep like you did as a kid, I'll kick you out."
Sylvain stuck his tongue out and went to pull Glenn's hair free of its tie. "I've slept with enough people that haven't complained." Glenn shook out his hair, now practically drenched in navy locks, little strands of silver glowing in the darkness of the tent.
"No funny business tonight. We have an early morning tomorrow." Glenn finished stripping down into proper bedclothes, Sylvain following suit. Glenn fell into his bedroll, Sylvain snuggling up behind him and nestling into Glenn's silken locks.
Maybe he'd ask Dimitri about that "renouncing his title" thing tomorrow. He could casually bring up the Reconstruction effort, and if all went well, Dimitri would understand. He was always so knowledgeable, so understanding.
And maybe he made the decision that as soon as Glenn had returned to them, Sylvain didn't want to lose another moment with him either.