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It had only been a day, but Runaan had already committed the details of his next mission to memory. In two weeks, he would be off to the Midnight Desert to track down a rogue elf who’d been killing travellers. It would take a week, tops.
It wasn’t the hardest job, but it would be a healthy challenge, especially considering he’d been off the scene for several weeks already. He was looking forward to it, actually.
He was perched on the rock beside the pond, sharpening blades when Ethari arrived, and sat next to him wordlessly, face devoid of its usual light. The green gem of his engagement cuff glittered in the sun, and the late afternoon breeze ruffled his hair, if it was even possible to ruffle it more than its natural state.
Runaan continued sharpening his blades. It was an almost ritualistic act for him. He’d spend hours passing his whetstone over the metal in the lead up to any mission, the rhythm calming his mind and gradually taking him to the right headspace.
It was only when Ethari leaned into him, wrapping his arms around his waist that Runaan stopped. Because Ethari has holding him in a way that was more than simply a hug, at least for Ethari’s standards. And that, coupled with the scrunch of brows and ever so slightly trembling jaw were enough to alert Runaan to the fact that something was very, very wrong.
“Moonshine, are you alright?” Runaan placed the blade and whetstone to the side, focusing on his fiance.
Ethari said nothing, only pulled himself closer, burrowing into Runaan’s shoulder almost as if he wished he could disappear forever.
“Ethari?” Runaan was worried, and confused. He could feel the concern in the way his brows knitted together.
It wasn’t like the other to be like this. Ethari was… he was Ethari . He was always the optimist of the pair, always trying to see the light. It wasn’t like him to be this… upset. If it was even that.
“My love, I am here for you, you know that.” Runaan shifted, wrapping Ethari in his arms and holding him close, pressing his lips to the space between his horns.
“But what if one day you’re not?” The voice was so quiet, Runaan almost missed it.
“Ethari?”
“What if one day, you’re not going to be here for me any more.” Ethari turned his head out from the folds of Runaan’s tunic, enough that he could his almost overflowing eyes and downturned mouth. “You have a dangerous job, you can’t… you can’t last forever, Runaan. One day, I’m going to lose you, and I don’t want that to happen.” Silent tears were falling now, but if Ethari’s shaking body was any indication, it was taking some effort to keep them silent. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Runaan’s face fell, he didn’t know what to say. In all honesty, he’d never put much thought into how his loved ones might fare when he was ...away. He’d never thought about how Ethari might worry, about how there was no way to know when he’d be back, in what state. If ever. Until now.
“Ethari. If I can promise one thing, it’s that I will always, always return to you.” Runaan squeezed Ethari even tighter, murmuring into his hair.
“But you can’t promise that!” The tinker tore away, all but completely sobbing, tear tracks staining his face. “You can’t promise that you’ll come back, you can’t promise you’ll be alright! One day I’m going to have to watch you leave and I won’t see you return. There’s nothing you can do about it, Runaan, so don’t make empty promises. Don’t hurt me even more.”
The last line hit Runaan with what felt like a physical punch to the chest, knocking the wind out of him. And then the final blow was dealt when Ethari turned away and Runaan watched his body sag.
What had he done? When? He hadn’t realised, had he truly been hurting Ethari without knowing? It made his heart ache, even just thinking about it.
“My love, how have I hurt you? Whatever I have done, please, I am eternally sorry.” He reached a hand out, aware that Ethari might not want his comfort. But the tinker let the hand brush his tears away and cup his cheek.
“It’s not so much something you have done as just… you,” Ethari replied, voice low, reaching up to cover Runaan’s hand with his own, tracing idle patterns with his thumb. “You exist, I fell in love with you. You’re an assassin, you’re stubborn and ruthless and driven by a crazy strong sense of justice. We both know you’d put your life on the line for Xadia. We both know you have .” Runaan averted his gaze at that, but not enough that he couldn’t see the ghost of a smile on Ethari’s lips. “Just… loving you. It comes with hurt. It comes with worry. I knew that when I agreed to marry you, I knew that when I agreed to date you, but… I suppose now that we’re more than just boyfriends, it’s just… sunk in a little more.” The hand fell away, landing in Ethari’s lap.
Once again, Runaan had no words. At least he knew it wasn’t anything he’d done, per se. Just merely existing, really.
He wished there was something he could do about it all, some way to let Ethari know he was at the very least alive while on a mission. But alas, he could think of nothing that wouldn’t further endanger his life. Perhaps time would yield and answer.
“I wish there was something I could do to alleviate you of this.” Runaan sighed, and pulled Ethari in once again. “I hate to be causing you any pain, whether I can help it or not. I hate that I have made you feel this way, that I will foreseeably continue to put you through such trials. But Ethari, know this. I will always love you. And I shall do whatever is within my power to return to you. I shan’t promise this, though I wish I could.”
“I just don’t want to lose you.” Ethari whispered, using the end of his scarf to dab at his eyes.
Runaan gently pushed the hand holding the scarf down, replacing it with the pad of his thumb, wiping the tears from Ethari’s face softly. “And I shall make it my life’s mission that you will never have to, my love. For I cannot bear the thought of being without you, either.”
“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that nearly as much as I worry about you. After all, I spend my days holed up in my workshop, you, you’re off gallivanting with death and duty.” Ethari leant his head on Runaan’s shoulder, looking out across the lilly-speckled water of the pond.
“Just because I don’t have to, doesn’t mean I won’t. I love you, Ethari, of course I’m going to worry.” Runaan took a bronze skinned hand in his own, clasping it and holding tight, fingers intertwined.
“You, worry? Why, Runaan, I could have sworn you were a cold-hearted assassin without an ounce of empathy in your body.” His voice may have been somewhat watery, but Runaan could hear the smile without having to look for confirmation.
That was the Ethari he knew and loved, cracking jokes and teasing whenever he had the opportunity, bringing a brightness to life that Runaan missed whenever they were apart.
“Of course, of course. I don’t know what you’re thinking about. I am Runaan of the Silvergrove, unable to feel, unable to show emotion, you’re completely correct,” he retorted, a smile to match his fiance’s.
“Well then, I suppose this will mean nothing at all to you, then.” Ethari reached up, drawing Runaan closer until their lips met in a soft but loving kiss.
“No, nothing at all,” Runaan said, voice barely a whisper as they pulled apart, foreheads resting against each other.
Ethari smiled, and Runaan went in for another kiss.
They sat, continuing in a similar fashion for a while longer, then simply sitting in each other’s embrace, watching the sunset reflected in the waters of the pond.
Oh, how Runaan wished it could last forever.