Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

*

Your heart tells you to do it , you do it. No doubts, no hesitation.

That’s how you ended up in the New World.

That’s how you met the Field Team Leader.

*

You’re fearless, generally reckless. Ready to dive headlong into action and adventure regardless of warnings. 

Impending danger holds no meaning to you. 

Except -- now.

Now , your heart is dealing with something dangerous indeed. 

Your heart is telling you to do it, to fly, and it’s louder than the gathering hub full of hunters.

*

On a normal day, you’d have joined them on their assignments. Contributing to Seliana’s growth is an important use of your time, and you love doing it.

On a normal day, however, you’re not distracted by your thoughts -- a perilous mental state for a hunt, and you’d rather not get knocked around just because your mind isn’t fully focused on a rampaging Rajang.

Instead, you remain floating on your back in the hot springs, studying cloud formations in the sky while contemplating your life choices.

*

Following your hot spring mediation, you gorge yourself on a juicy meat platter oozing with flavor, freshly baked bread, and a cheesy casserole new on the menu. The casserole is your favorite part of the meal, and it reminds you of the Mainland somehow. 

A hearty, savory meal makes you feel better, but it does not solve your problems.

*

How unfortunate.

*

You remember vividly the moment you first saw him, Greatsword drawn against an Anjanath, shortly after you arrived in the Ancient Forest. 

After an introduction like that, it’s no small wonder you were inexorably drawn to him. You racked up one too many stolen glances when you followed him to Astera, just as the rest of your new life began…

Melding with recent memories, the simmering first impression inspires warmth deep within you.

It’s not from the sauna, either.

*

You have no official Seliana business with him, and the major hunts have been taken care of. No assignments other than helping others, and that’s completely optional.

There’s no reason to talk to him right now, you tell your heart.

Deep down, you don’t believe what you’re telling yourself.

*

Everything is squared away. Everyone is safe. No real threats, the trade routes are clear, and supplies are plentiful. Astera is just fine, too. All the camps are established, and you can’t really think of any additional work that needs to be done.

Now: the only business you have with him is extremely personal in nature, and it’s something you haven’t discussed since it happened…

And it’s not like he doesn’t want to talk about it, right?

Other people around, other things going on… except for lately , actually. You realize just how quiet everything is now. Safe …

A private moment wouldn’t be so hard to procure now that the threats aren’t threats anymore.

Hmm.

Your thoughts drift along with the steam, painting a detailed Field Team Leader -- Chief -- in your mind the night you celebrated the Appreciation Festival.

*

It was the last night of the festivities, and the banquet was well underway. All of Seliana was celebrating, eating and drinking and having a splendid time. You indulged all the same, drinking a foaming tankard of ale in your favorite spot at the worn-out table overlooking the cliffside.

You enjoyed a rare quiet moment to yourself. For once the bustle of the daily life of a hunter left you alone. Your Handler was chattering with the A-listers instead of hovering around you for once, and the table was free of other hunters trying to get your attention about whatever happened during their recent hunts. 

No expectations for you to take part in conversations, nobody seemed interested in why you were withdrawn from the party all around them.

A perfectly assembled moment to enjoy one of your favorite parts of the Appreciation Festival, and you had it all to yourself.

The sky lanterns drifted into the softened violet remains of the sunset, and your spirits soared as you wished them well on their journey. 

And then Chief settled down next to you, pulling your attention from your sky lantern display.

He tried to be quiet, tried to set down his armored weight lightly without you noticing, but there’s no way he could sneak past your instincts. ...Not that he was really trying to, it seemed.

You kept your expression neutral, tried to focus on the lanterns and your emptying tankard. Tried not to pay too much attention to how close Chief seemed to be, or was it just the festival lighting in the gathering hub, or -- ?

“Good evening,” he finally said, gently breaking the silence gathered between you. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

An alarming amount of emotion tumbling inside you, you managed to peek at him from the corner of your eye. You forced yourself to give him a bit more eye contact after a few long seconds passed.

“Just checking if you need a refill?” He cocked his head at your hand, a light smile playing about his strong features.

Your gaze landed on your tankard. You gave it a tentative swirl, testing the liquid levels. It was approaching the last dregs of foam.

He snatched the tankard out of your grip before you could say anything, and he was off.

You blame his smile’s tendency of melting everything around you, leaving you warmer than a hot drink in Hoarfrost Reach. You were completely weak, unguarded. You wondered if he knew what he was doing to you. Well, it wasn’t a bad thing, but…

Trying to get a grip on your nerves, you turned your gaze back to the lantern display, away from the sight of him chatting up the bartender.

*

You sensed him walking over before he ever sat back down, his own tankard overflowing when he handed over yours.

You weren’t watching the lanterns.

You were watching him, just as he was watching you.

He held his drink aloft, grinning. “A toast to you, Sapphire Star.”

Sapphire Star. Other people have called you that since you came to the New World, but hearing him say it played games with your heart.

Ignoring your quickening pulse and trying to not overthink things, you clinked your tankard against his, and slugged back the whole thing at the same time he killed his.

“Another,” he said, and he was gone again.

He had other people to drink and celebrate the festival with, but he was doing it with you.

Only you.

The thrill was a drug all its own, and you savored the reality of your moment.

He came back with foaming refills and sat down again. His seat was closer to yours than you imagined possible, and you tried to think on it too much.

You thanked him for the refill, mentally occupying yourself by trying to come up with a toast as he watched the lanterns for a minute.

You found some inspiration while silently admiring his jawline, the details of his facial features, yet thinking more on his kindness, his authority, his curiosity, his -- 

You don’t remember exactly what you said once you pulled yourself from your thoughts. 

You were so befuddled by your nerves, the memory escaped you -- something along the lines about loving him as your Chief, how he was meant to be in that position, and how you loved getting your work orders from him instead of the Commander. Affectionately, of course.

He laughed at your toast, and after he promised he wouldn’t tell his grandfather about the last part, you chugged your drinks again.

The ale was a different kind this time around, but it was rather enjoyable. You smacked your lips with satisfaction. Chief seemed relaxed and satisfied in his own way.

You gave him a mischievous smile. 

He quirked an eyebrow.

This time, you beat him to the refill game, playfully snatching his tankard from his relaxed grip and scampering away.

*

You were at the bar, ordering another round of the same thing.

The bartender moved with exuberant joy from the festival vibes, but you knew he was a usually pretty jolly fellow on a regular day regardless of a holiday excuse.

As he refilled your tankards, you took in the sights of the hub alive with Seliana’s people. Somehow, nobody joined Chief at your table -- they were frolicking in the hot springs, dealing cards and playing their drinking games, relaxing in the footbaths, and dancing around. 

All and all, the others were celebrating in their own way, leaving the two of you completely alone, somehow . Uncharacteristic of your Seliana hunter family, so you thanked the gods for the odd blessing.

Chief was still sitting at the table with his back to you, as if he didn’t have anywhere else to be, as if he was where he wanted to be all along.

You lost track of which tankard was yours, decided it didn’t matter when you handed him his refill, and took your seat.

*

He was sitting closer to you, it seemed. You were certain it wasn’t just the lighting anymore. 

You were also leaning in, your knee bumping him more than once.

It was an accident. At first.

Then it was very much intentional as the toasts and the laughter went on. You felt you could get away with it, easily blame it on him sitting close, banking on him absolutely not noticing nor caring.

His knee nudged yours more than once in return, and you swear he did it on purpose.

*

Chief came up with another toast -- something on his appreciation for how prepared you were for any fight, and how it put the other hunters to shame.

A shared smile, another clink, chug.

No need for another refill. One of the bar maidens sauntered by with a pitcher, and you were on to the next round.

You toasted to some nonsense, something about his taste in gear and how you were too similar. Three Cheers to Greatswords -- something equally stupid like that, but he didn't seem to mind.

Another shared smile and a laugh. Another clink, another chug.

The ale settled heavier in your gut than you realized.

*

The next toast was different from the others, and once again he caught you off-guard. (He was really good at that.)

It was about how his life changed when you arrived with the Fifth Fleet. How he would truly never be the same.

You nearly choked on your ale.

Chief was suddenly more serious, so much so you found it difficult to look at him head on. 

You were blushing, but it was hard to tell with the alcohol flowing in your bloodstream.

*

When you thought about it, the toasts were an excuse to compliment each other.

The ale made it easier to find the words.

*

The night went on.

More laughter and warm smiles and nudging knees, as lanterns floated to the stars.

*

You weren’t exactly sure how it happened. Adrenaline faded some of the details in retrospect.

You couldn’t blame it on being completely drunk, but you also couldn’t blame it on being completely sober either. 

A few drinks ago, you stopped. Then you stopped watching the lanterns.

With his eyes firmly on yours, a serious shock of bravery threaded through you.

Blame it on the ale fading through your system. Blame it on the compliments and easy laughter and shared gazes softening your defenses. You’re not sure what it was about that night.

You were brave enough to hold his hand without a hint of hesitation.

There was no fear of rejection -- it wasn’t a notion that ever crossed your mind, for whatever reason you couldn’t quite place.

Chief didn’t flinch, didn’t let go. Instead, he tenderly held your hand tighter than you held his, never breaking his gaze on you.

His smile was deep, understanding.

He stood with you.

You took the lead and started heading towards your room.

He never let go of your hand, following you without question.

*

You didn’t plan for things to go the way they went, but it was absolutely more than you imagined. You just wanted to be with him, no distractions, no possibility of someone else ruining your moment together.

Chief seemingly had his own plans, and you enthusiastically let him take the lead instead.

His lips found yours as soon as the door closed.

His warm hands held your face tenderly, and all doubts left your mind as you sunk deeper into his kiss.

With a long-awaited embrace, the armor and fur coats fell away, and he was before you, all of his glory and none of his shame. The image burned itself forever in your heart and mind.

You shed your layers, surrendered completely to him. He was all yours. He gave himself up to you just the same. You tumbled together, wrapped around each other, hands exploring curves and mapping scars as you lost yourselves in each other.

Then he was one with you, finally, entangled in hot flesh.

“...my Sapphire Star .” His words resonated in your heart, echoed in your mind --

Oh, no. 

The sauna isn’t helping.

You stand up too fast and stagger out, focusing on your breathing patterns so you don’t pass out.

You feel a bit ill, a bit woozy, like the whole world is spinning faster than you can exist without losing your cheese casserole on the floor.

You slump into a seat, and press your forehead on the cool wooden table gouged with knife markings.

The memory of that night -- his kiss, his touch, his words - haunts you and your spinning head, and you feel sicker than you did before.

*

You’re a kinetic learner, hands-on and physical with how you deal with most things in your life. You’ve got a work bench on the second floor of your private quarters dedicated to crafting items and maintaining your weapon collection. Dexterous things like making pendants, decorative crafts, and sewing bring you a kind of peace.

It’s… not helping right now.

You’ve polished two swords and sharpened your daggers. You’ve rearranged your mushroom collection, and you restocked your flash pods, smoke bombs, and whetstones.

You move from your room out into Seliana’s canteen, hoping for a more solid distraction.

*

You’ve got combines on the table in the canteen, and you build potion after potion before your Partner’s eyes. You’re overstocking more than usual and she notices it.

She warily watches you work through your nerves. “Oh, is this…?”

You eye her with a sullen umbrage.

“I know what this is about,” she says with a gentle smile full of understanding.

She knows? Was that possible? Oh. Well. 

That’s...

She says, “I saw you and Chief going to your room. I hope he wasn’t too hard on you.” She looks forlornly at the remaining scraps of meat on her plate. “He shouldn’t chew you out like that.”

You’re debating on correcting her with modest -- selective --  details, when she peps up.

“He has a lot of expectations for you, but he needs to lay off. Why don’t I talk to him?” Did she just wink at you? “You need a rest, just look at you.”

You blink at her, absolutely incredulous.

She saw you together, and she still has the wrong idea?

Did anyone else…?

Wouldn’t Chief want to avoid accusations of favored treatment, especially if it might have been true...? Wasn’t it better if everyone had the wrong idea and none of the details?

You rub your hand into your face, pressing your eyelids as you try conjuring words to correct the situation -- or at least make it closer to the truth, somehow.

No, wait. Actually, it’s not -- maybe it wouldn’t be the best to tell her the whole truth, but at least some might --

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it,” your Handler says.

She pops up from her seat.

You reach out to stop her. She slips through your fingers.

A fine mixture of exhaustion and dread drips through you when you think about your Handler telling the Chief you need a break, when that’s…

That’s definitely not what you need.

*

She’s already talking to him at the war table when you finally arrive.

He’s nodding at something she said, and she’s looking fierce and full of conviction, as if proud of whatever argument she spouted off.

You’re minding your body language as you stride in, exercising concentrated effort not to resemble a mopey Poogie too eager for its hunter to come back.

Chief notices you almost immediately, his eyes drifting over you as you slowly approach. You panic inwardly, swallowing the last of your nerve as you somehow continue your stride.

A cocky smile warms the corners of his mouth, and a molten poke of red-hot desire thrums through you.

A playful hint in his voice, he says, “Ah, there you are. Your partner told me you’re tired and need a long break. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.”

You open your mouth to argue against the misunderstanding, but your Handler cuts you off. “Don’t worry about it, partner. I’ll take care of it. Just go to your room and rest.”

Chief’s gaze is steady on you, illuminated by the fireplace crackling nearby. 

You meet his eyes.

You want to tell him that’s not true -- you’re tired but not from hunting -- but with your Partner right there, there’s no way you’d have the real conversation on your mind.

You wonder what’s going through his head, if he’s thinking the same thing. Maybe he doesn’t remember that night. Or maybe he does, and he wishes it never happened? Or maybe it’s…

Meanwhile, your heart is telling you something. You choose to ignore it.

You promise you’ll listen to it later, at a better time than this.

Chief finally breaks his long gaze, and you’re not sure what to make of it. Something feels kind of… odd.

Then he smirks at you. He gives a tiny shrug. “If you need rest, you need rest. There’s no shame in that,” he says.

You don’t know how to respond, and then he adds, “Why don’t you go get comfortable? I’ll find you later.”

You want to know if he means he’ll come find you in your room or the next time you emerge, but it’s better to just rest at this point. 

Your head is starting to hurt anyway.

*

One headache powder and the coldest glass of water you could slide down your throat later, you’re relaxing on your bed. 

You recline on your elbow watching your Elegant Coralbird, Cerise, flutter around and nibble at the seed you tossed on the floor. Watching her soothes you, and you’re grateful you rescued her from a broken wing. 

After she recovered, you tried returning her to the Coral Highlands more than once, but she would never leave you no matter how many times you took her back.

She’s a part of your life now, and you’re thankful she chose to stick with you.

At the top of the stairs, there’s a knock.

You carefully slide off the bed, give a big, soul-satisfying full-body stretch, and make your way up.

Was it the Housekeeper checking on you? Your Handler, with all her well-intentioned meddling?

You reach towards the doorknob, hesitating for a moment as a dizzying thought swims through your mind.

Oh no. It couldn’t…?

You finally open it.

It’s Chief, greeting you with a smile as you open the door.

“Good, you’re awake. I thought I might catch you sleeping,” he says. He lifts the ropes of a sizable, wrapped serving container into view. “I brought soup.”

You smile at him, silenced by your nerves and giddy feelings, and step aside to graciously let him in.

Glancing past his shoulder, you see snowy dust blowing through Seliana. The central area is devoid of people -- none of the vendors are out, the animals are put away, the Melder’s gone inside, and the Argosy’s stall is closed up. The sky is grey-black and getting darker as the approaching snowstorm grows in power.

You shudder at the thought of another Velkana making trouble, and close the door at last.

Now, the reality of the situation hits you pleasantly: Chief personally brought you soup, in this weather? He won’t be able to leave if it gets worse, and it’s already getting worse.

Your heart pounds your chest as you think about Chief warming your bed during a blizzard.

Chief makes his way down the stairs, admiring the decorations you recently hung up. “Those lanterns, I didn’t notice them the last time I was here.”

Well, the last time he was here, things got heated, so his observation is a bit… silly, smacking of small talk.

But you don’t say anything, feeling more than just a bit tongue-tied.

Your guts flutter nervously. 

You’re struck with the desperate need to be a good host. You swallow the remains of your pride and walk ahead of him, brushing eagerly past him just ever so slightly as you descend.

You snatch a cream-colored tablecloth off the hook by the end of the stairs, tossing it on the dark wood table as neatly as you can in one smooth, hurried motion. You grab some decorated bowls and matching spoons from the antique cupboard along the wall, just as he finishes descending. He takes a seat.

Chief sets the carved bone container on the table, sliding off the ropes securing the lid. He unwraps red fabric, emblazoned with the Commission’s symbol. “I asked Chef if she could make something special for you. She said she packed it with extra nutrients and flavor to get you back on your feet.”

You manage to mutter a quiet thank you, which is all you can say as you finish setting up.

You scrounge up a bottle of mead from your cupboard, pour two tankards, and set one down on his right side.

Chief’s hand imperceptibly touches yours when he reaches to adjust his tankard, moving it to a slightly different spot with a smirk on his face.

He… he did that on purpose!

You try to hide how flustered you are by tossing a glance behind your shoulder, looking for where Cerise flew off to.

You don’t normally worry that she flew outside when you opened the door, but the thought does raise your heart rate a skip until you see her.

She’s perched safely in her cage by the aquarium wall, waiting patiently for you to cover her up for the night.

You set your tankard down at your seat next to Chief, spilling a little in your haste, and go to her. Your hands stroke a silky red Anjanath pelt before you drape it over Cerise’s cage to keep out the draft.

She chirps softly at you as her world falls into warm darkness, and you mutter a good night to her. Maybe one of these days you’ll make a trip to find her a mate so she isn’t so lonely…

Clearing your thoughts, you look back at Chief and try to keep your longing in check just as he removes the lid of the soup, filling the room with a scrumptious aroma.

You’re entranced, watching him carefully portion soup with a polished bone ladle, when you notice your backdoor and windows are still open from the housekeeper earlier. The blizzard is blowing in, thick globs of snowflakes melting into shimmering puddles by the threshold.

The snowstorm intensifying, the chill is slightly unbearable without all your usual layers of armor and furs. 

Well, for you it is. Chief told you before the cold doesn’t bother him anymore, but you’re not as immune as he is.

You carefully step over to the backdoor and shut it, watching your step so you don’t slip barefoot on the uncovered stone tile.

Chief has your bowl ready for you when you sit down next to him. 

“I almost forgot,” he says. He pulls out a tiny fabric pouch, grabs a pinch, and sprinkles a sparkling green leaf garnish on top of your bowl. “She said it was very important for the full healing effect.”

You thank him for bringing you medicinal soup and mention something about not having much of your usual appetite. You did eat recently enough, but by now you’re usually hungering for more, and you’re not all that hungry.

“Your partner said you weren’t feeling well, and I agreed with her,” he says between spoonfuls of broth and meat. “I wanted to take care of you.”

Why did he have to say it like that…? Your giddy feelings have silenced you again, and you're doing your best not to choke on your chunk of spring onion.

You focus on your meal. You’re not eating with your usual amount of energy, but neither is he.

Chief is casually eating soup and drinking his mead, taking his time, but you’re slower than he is.

He’s already finished, and he’s watching you with his discerning gaze. “Feeling any better?”

You nod through your spoonfuls, enjoying the sumptuous mix of vegetables and meat as they melt in your mouth.

He nods with you, and he looks like he's at peace with the world. “I’m feeling pretty energized myself after a soup like that,” he says. “Perfect weather for it too.”

You’re not accustomed to Chief making small talk, but it’s nice, and you’re enjoying it more than the delicious rejuvenation soup he brought. You’re almost done with your serving, allowing a sip of mead before eating more.

He watches you intently before getting up from his seat.

“Your fire’s gone out,” he says. “Let me help with that.”

You swallow your food, relaxing more.

Good. He’s not leaving yet.

You finish up, gather his bowl and spoon with your dishes, and set them outside the other door for the housekeeper to collect whenever they return, after the storm blows through.

You pluck a Banboro pelt off your bed on your way back and wrap it around your shoulders. You’re watching him expertly build your fire back to life in your fireplace when you find yourself taking a timid seat on your fancy sofa. 

Your heart is back again, telling you to make your move some time soon -- he’s here, and with the storm blowing in …

He’s done building the fire. He stands up straight and shoots you a winning smile, proud of his work. “Cozy?”

You’re tongue-tied, absolutely mystified by him, so you simply nod and pat the cushion next to you.

Chief’s smile takes up his whole face. He smoothly clears the distance and sits down next to you. You turn your back to him and surprise him by leaning fully against him, inviting him to put his arms around you. 

He takes your invitation and closes the space, pulling you close.

He’s holding you from behind with both arms as he gets comfortable, pressing his back against the curled arm rest. “I’ll have to take this off armor, but this is fine for now.”

You’re leaning your full weight against him, wrapped in his arms, watching the fire he built for you burn perfectly.

You thank him for taking care of you, building the fire, bringing the soup.

“I want to take care of you. You don’t need to thank me.” He places a soft kiss on the back of your head, and then another on the back of your neck. “Now’s the perfect time to talk about us, I think.”

You cuddle into his embrace more, ready to listen to the talk you’re finally about to have. You’re feeling brave, warm, well-fed, and well-taken care of, and you’re no longer truly afraid of your incoming discussion.

He plays with your hair, then places another gentle kiss where the blanket slides off to reveal the slope of your shoulder.

“That night,” he says. “What did it mean to you?”

You freeze against him, stiff in his embrace and stricken with silence. All the things you’ve been feeling, all the things you’ve been wanting to say, suddenly it’s very hard for you to find the words.

Oh no .

Oh no oh no nononono.

Chief chuckles, and you feel him rumble against your back. “That bad, huh? Want me to go first?” He sounds like he’s playing, but you can’t see the smirk you hear in his voice.

You yank yourself out of his embrace, turn around, and face him.

He is smiling, but it’s soft, tender.

Chief shifts his position, grimacing in discomfort. “Mind if I take some of this off first?”

You wave him on, still suffering from your silence blight as you cradle your face in your hands.

Chief undoes the straps, pops off his chest armor and vambraces, and sets them on the floor next to the sofa.

He’s… completely shirtless, not even an undershirt in the cold like a madman, and now you’re even worse off at the sight of his pectorals and biceps. He doesn’t seem to notice your suffering, thankfully, and you snap yourself together.

Chief rubs his at his wrists, smoothing down the red impressions on his skin. He sighs, leaning back into the sofa. “That’s better. Now, why don’t you share some of that blanket while we have this discussion?”

You wordlessly lift your blanket for him to grab and you help with covering him up. Underneath the blanket with you, he pulls you to him, wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you to his side. You cuddle into him, looping your arm around him in return, and you’re snug against his flank.

Your heart hammers in your throat. You feel his body heat and his naked skin on you, and you’re suddenly feeling uncomfortably warm under the blanket. But you’re not leaving. You’re not breaking this embrace, this moment of happiness with the one you love -- there’s no denying it now.

He puts his head on top of yours. “So, about us. About that night…” His hand caresses tender circles into your bare shoulder under the shared blanket, and you love his soothing touch. “I’ll go first.” 

He takes a steady breath. You feel it how deep it is with the rise of the slow inhale, and the fall of the even-slower exhale. 

“That night means everything to me,” he says. “When I called you my Sapphire Star, I meant it.”

You pull yourself off his side and bring yourself up to meet his heated gaze, beaming with how happy you are to hear him say these things.

“You’re my Sapphire Star. You guide my path and help me see the rest of the world,” he says, his voice steady as if he practiced his speech. “You arriving in Astera changed my whole life. And I treasure it, every second of every minute I’ve had with you.”

You reach out to caress his face. He meets your palm with his scarred cheekbone. “I want more time with you,” he says. “For as long as we both shall live, gods willing.”

You stroke his face with love as you nod profusely, and the tears prickle your eyes. You suck at your lip, trying to keep yourself from crying at the gush of everything pounding you all at once.

The tears come anyway. 

You move swiftly, bringing the rest of the blanket with you as you sling both arms around his neck and climb gently into his lap.

Overwhelmed, unable to speak with the tears in your eyes, you kiss him deeply on the lips, slowly, with a growing passion you’re doing your best to regulate. 

Yes. Yes. Yes. 

The heat between you rages higher than your fireplace. 

Chief kisses you back just as hard, just as deep, with all his love that he’s held for you all this time, and you feel it intertwining with the same feelings you’ve harbored within you just as long. 

His hands find their way onto the curve of your back, slipping under your nightshirt to caress your skin and bring you closer to him as he kisses you with the same warmth, the same growing passion you’ve been trying to keep under control.

You break away from his lips and lavish his muscled neck with slow kisses, drawing out a soft moan you’ve been craving to hear again since that Festival night. His moan stirs you up, makes you want him even more. 

A few more kisses, and you breathily whisper in his ear what you’ve wanted to tell him all this time:

“I love you, my Sapphire Star .”

And he is all yours.

*

The blizzard roars through the night, and the fireplace has long burned out. The bioluminescent glow of the massive aquarium casts a soft blue, ambient contrast on the comfortable darkness of your room.

You’re comfy and content, warm in your private quarters. 

In bed, with the man you love.

And he isn’t going anywhere.

You take in the moment, yet another blessing in a long string of gifts from the gods.

He’s under the covers with you, his arm slung around you as he dozes off. You curl into his side and bask in the warmth of his presence, marveling at how he’s finally all yours, no misunderstandings, no more wondering and hiding. 

You nuzzle further into his embrace, listening to his steady breathing.

He sleepily murmurs a muddled “...g’ night. Love you” and kisses the top of your head before dozing off completely.

You murmur back to him, easily falling into your own deep slumber.

*

It doesn’t play out like the morning after the Festival.

You don’t wake up to your bed empty, your heart aching, and the sound of your door closing.

This time, he’s there beside you, arm draped around your waist and pulling you to him as you roll around waking up together.

You roll over to face him, enjoy his ruffled sleep-addled look with a dash of morning kisses, and make an attempt to get up.

He yanks you back down onto the bed with a kiss, and the rest of the morning goes with it.

Briefly, you remember there was a meeting scheduled for today, but it doesn’t matter since you’re both already late.

*

You emerge from your room into the light of day, Chief walking slightly ahead of you as you close things up.

He smiles at you, and then surveys the condition of Seliana after the blizzard with his hands on his hips. The snow has already been cleared off, the central road neatly shoveled into mounds off to the side and sea salt sprinkled to make the path safer for wagons on their way to the trade routes.  

Seliana has been busy while you were spending your morning with Chief, and you feel the heat of a blush coming on when you think about them possibly hearing you while they were working nearby. 

But the streets are as empty as they were when the blizzard blew through. Nobody else is around --

Except your Partner, who is standing in the middle of the street, waving at you at the end of the path to your private quarters. She’s giggly, brimming with a joy you don’t understand, bouncing around on the toes of her boots.

Chief waits for you to catch up to him, and then he continues walking the path until he stops in front of her. 

She beams at him without so much as a glance at you. “Did it work?”

“Better than we planned,” he says.

“Oh, that’s fantastic, but I’m not surprised.” She giggles, folding her hands together in front of her chest. “So, it’s official?”

Wait -- wait -- you puzzle at her, squint at Chief, glancing between the two of them as you try to make sense of what they’re talking about.

Chief gazes at you, a slow smile spreading on his face. The outdoor lighting brings a gorgeous sparkle to his eyes, dazzling you. 

He takes your hand suddenly, and you’re breathless.

“It’s official,” he says, his words full of quiet affection and authority.

You’re stunned. You’re even more stunned when your Handler turns around with a jump.

She puts both hands over her mouth. “It’s official!”

All of Seliana appears from the corners of buildings, the crevices between stands, out from underneath awnings and no longer lurking in doorways. 

Your Palico and his Felyne friends come prancing out, tossing flower petals and confetti into the air. Cheering and celebrating, the people fill the street, surrounding you and Chief in happy faces and congratulations. 

Even the Commander is here, grinning broadly, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are misty. He smirks at his grandson and claps a hand on his shoulder. “Another successful operation. Well done.”

You’re still lost.

Chief affectionately pats the Commander’s shoulder in return. “I couldn’t have done it alone. I had a lot of support from the usual team.”

The Admiral’s deep laughter rumbles as he walks up next to the Commander, the Huntsman quietly following. “A fine team it is, helping with a hopeless mission like that,” he says, smirking.

“Victory was assured,” adds the Huntsman. “But still, congratulations.”

Chief bows his head slightly. “Thank you, Master.”

The others crowd you, thumping your back and ruffling your hair. 

Chief slips an arm around your armored waist and pulls you to him, dragging you away from everyone else to hold you to his side.

You look around at all the different people smiling at you, your Astera and Seliana family all together in one place congratulating you, and it hits you: they were in on it.

It was a set-up.

“You all knew?” You finally find your words somewhere in the back of your throat, no longer choked up by the love from your found family overwhelming you.

More family members draw in closer, fully encircling you.

Your Handler is downright giddy. “Of course! I always knew he was your Guiding Light. Everyone saw it too. And, I already know what really happened that night,” she says with a wink. “You just needed some help sealing the deal, so we purposefully left you alone.”

“You’re both horrendous at courting displays,” the Lead Botanist says, pushing up his glasses with a slender finger. “It was pitiful to watch, as neither one of you could fully express your feelings for one another. You were in desperate need of aid.”

The Argosy Captain playfully thwacks Chief on the elbow.

“We’ve been rootin’ for you two since Astera,” Captain says with a tender gruffness. “We were gettin’ real tired of two lovebirds makin’ Pukei-Pukei eyes at each other and never doing anythin' about it.”

“Must’ve been something in that soup,” the Excitable A-Lister hollers over the din, and his handler bops him on the head for his lame joke ruining the moment.

The Commander chuckles at the antics going on, looking at you with warm regard. “You’ve done it again, Hunter. A job well done that nobody else could pull off. You landed yourself the heart of my grandson, and I couldn’t be happier with his choice of life mate.”

You’re nodding your head, trying hard to stammer out a sufficient reply, when Chief draws your attention with a finger caressing your cheek.

“They wanted us together,” he says, eyes only on you. “They all saw it before I ever did, and they convinced me to make my move. I thought I was the only one who felt this way, but everyone informed me on how wrong I was.”

The Commander re-crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head, smiling.

“I know my partner,” your Handler says. “And it was love at first sight, since Astera. I’ve got a count written down somewhere of secret looks when the other wasn’t looking since day one.” She ruffles a bundle of papers in her book as she starts looking for the count sheet. “It’s here somewhere…”

Your ears are burning red as your flushed cheeks. 

“Found it!” Your Handler waves the paper around and your Palico climbs up her shoulder to read it with her. 

“The count goes both ways,” Chief says, noticing your blushing discomfort. “I hated watching you leave, every time. I worried about you, even if you didn’t need me to.”

You bury your face in your hands, utterly overwhelmed by all the wonderful love and support, and the reality of your life in the New World.

Chief envelopes you in his embrace and holds you tightly to his chest until you finally show your face again. You smile at him once you’re over your bashfulness, and he dramatically sweeps you up into the very first, official, victory kiss.

You fold into him, completely in his embrace, and kiss him back with everything you’ve got.

Everyone cheers, and it’s on to the rest of the celebration as they all rush to eat and drink and be merry.

As Chief leads you by the small of your back towards the Gathering Hub, the Forge Master pipes in. “It’s about damn time,” he says. “I’ll start drawing up plans for the wedding rings.”

*

Chapter Text

*

When it's all said and done, one question still remains. Through all the cheering and congratulations as Seliana celebrates your engagement, one unanswered thing dances between you and Chief. Public displays of affection between bites of food and ale in the Gathering Hub are not enough to keep it completely away from your thoughts.

The celebration goes on, eventually petering out around the edges of approaching sunset. They’ve been going since morning and everyone took the day off from work. And yet, something is bothering you deeply.

The Morning After The Appreciation Festival: Chief was gone before you woke up, the sound of the door latching shut, your bed cold as you opened your eyes to the waking world.

You understand how it happened -- mutual feelings getting the best of you in a perfectly-constructed moment put together by your meddlesome, supportive found family. But what you don’t understand is why Chief left in the first place if it was a set-up ,  and everyone supposedly knew your feelings were the same as his. 

He didn’t know it was a set-up when he started getting the ale refills… or did he know all along, before he ever interrupted the sky lantern display to drink with you that night? Was that part of the plan, or did it just happen that way?

You feel like he didn’t explain himself enough.

And you, you didn’t explain yourself much either. Why did you do it? You admitted to yourself you were in love with him for so long, but you settled for one night. You didn’t think there would ever be a possibility of more beyond that.

But what about him? Was it not the same? He had his doubts, you had yours, and that was that. The set-up worked as planned, hearts aligned and dreams came true, but the results were delayed, yes?

Chief is next to you talking to the A-listers, wrapping up the party when he notices the faraway look on your face. “What’s on your mind?”

You frown slightly, shake your head with a tiny dismissal,  and return to nibbling on your last wyvern thigh.

“I know that look,” Chief says, turning away from the A-listers to focus more on you. “Something’s on your mind and you’re not having fun anymore.”

You assure him it’s nothing, nothing. Don’t worry about it.

He smiles at you, placing his hand on your wrist resting on the edge of the table. “Why don’t we talk somewhere else?”

*

Chief insists you’ll finish saying good night to your party guests after he gets you to talk, so you go for a walk in the central area. Nobody follows you, giving you space as they frolic and prance the dusk away like it’s another festival. Nobody’s returned for an evening of work yet, and you don't think they will.

It’s going to be a clear night. No threat of a blizzard or any of the nasty weather from the last few days. A little past sunset, the stars are peeking out and not a sliver of cloud blocks their light.

You’re briefly distracted by the thought of how much work Chief will have to deal with tomorrow. He'll have to settle issue after issue since everyone slacked off today. You’re filled with a slight pang of sorrow at the thought of not seeing him much. 

But then again, maybe he planned for this? 

Did he plan to make up a lot of work, if it all went the way they hoped? He is the type to think that far ahead. You love that about him, along with everything else, and you smile.

Chief stops you at the end of the boardwalk before the stairs towards the Melding Pot. He reaches out to cup your cheek and a familiar, warm hand presses into your skin. “What’s on your mind, Sapphire Star?”

You look at him with all the love in your heart, and suddenly all the questions bothering you don’t matter anymore. Regardless of everything, you decide it’s only important to live in the moment with the man you love. 

You can’t find the words to answer his question, resolving to just shake it off and resume happiness once again.

But Chief insisted on the talk, and he isn’t about to ignore why you’re here. “I’m no mind reader, but I have an idea.” His thumb strokes your cheek tenderly as he says, “You’re upset I left the morning after, right?”

You deliberate, leaning into his palm, before throwing yourself at his chest. He meets you with a full, enveloping embrace and strokes your hair after wrapping around you.

He’s warm against you, the warmth you love and crave and it’s yours now. You’re feeling better, yet foolish for overthinking the turn of events. 

But Chief continues, and you love him more for it. “I knew it was a set-up, but I didn’t think you’d go along with it. I still had my doubts. A one-night stand isn’t something we take lightly around here. For some people, at least. I’m one of them,” Chief says after a long moment of him just holding you in the clear starlight and the Seliana cold. “I was conflicted. I didn’t know how you really felt. I thought maybe it was just the ale that made it happen, and that you might regret it in the morning since you weren’t in on it.”

You shake your head against his embrace. “You never gave me a chance to tell you how I felt.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t.” Chief plays with your hair, carding it through his fingers thoughtfully. “If you regretted it, I didn’t want to see it in your eyes when you woke up next to me,” he says with a pained softness. “I wouldn’t have been able to bear it. I didn’t regret it, but if you did? I would have never recovered.”

You pull up from his chest to admire him.

Chief looks at you for a long, introspective moment. His gaze reflects a sadness that hitches your breath yet melts away your concerns. “It was better to just leave and never know for sure. I hoped we would work things out, if you did feel the same way.” You plant a reassuring kiss on his lips, slow and seeking to comfort with its smolder before he adds, “Will you forgive me?”

You kiss him again, and you’re able to speak up after a slight deliberation of word choice. “I forgive you. I just wish they let me in on the secret so we could have avoided all that.”

He kisses you back, smirking a bit. “All in all, wasn’t it more fun this way?”

Well, yes. It was. Unfair to your heart and health -- and his -- at times, but worth it.

You kiss him hard, and he kisses you harder, returning all the force of your heart with all of his. Then, you break your kiss, take his hand, and join his side, as you return to celebrating your engagement, and the promising future yet to come.

*

Chapter Text

*

His Greatsword wasn't much different from yours when you really looked at it up close. You stole it from his bed side while he slept next to you and slipped out to the forge master at the crack of dawn, when the first fires light and the forge wakes up from its slumbers.

Today was a special day, and you're fairly certain your husband forgot about it. Your anniversary, but not your first date, or your first kiss, or even the day you vowed yourselves to each other.

Today marks the occasion of the first time Chief joined you on the hunt.

He was still your Field Team Leader then, still very much the man deserving of your love, but he was not yet the man asleep in your bed this morning.

*

Rathalos wasn't a dragon to be trifled with, as expected of most wyverns his size. You were glad you weren't on this mission alone, especially with how urgently it sprung up when all the other hunters were off on other serious assignments.

Your Field Team Leader was available to depart with you, by some machination of fate.

The Commander ordered him to accompany you, and that never happened until that day, the day the Rathalos brought down a rain of fire.

It was the first hunt of many, but because it was the first hunt, your heart wasn't nearly as ready as you thought. Fighting your emotions was harder than dodging the spread of flames and the roar of titans.

*

"Ya better hope your husband loves ya more than this sword," says the Forge Master. "I made this thing years ago. It's the only thing left of his Pop. I won't be upgrading until he says so."

You didn't know it was his father's sword.

He never told you. For whatever reasons, and you assumed they were painful simply because they were, he never shared anything about his parents. The only thing you knew was that he was born in Astera, one of the first babies born in the New World.

The Forge Master massages his beard and he says, "Tell him to come get it. I don't want any of my apprentices at the other bases working on it either."

The Forge Master hands off the sword for one of his assistants to take back behind the counter, and your shame has you stuck in your tracks.

*

Apparently, being married to the Chief didn't mean anything to the Forge Master anymore when it came to his duty. Even though he forged your wedding rings and repaired broken weapons at a reduced cost per the Commander's request, he was still one of your husband's oldest guardians from his Astera life.

He was protecting a treasure they both loved.

You couldn't blame him for it, and now you were terribly, terribly embarrassed.

*

Your entire plan is ruined. Your cutesy wife-y goal of surprising him with a touch-up on his favorite sword you couldn't do yourself backfired.

You didn't know it was the only thing left of your father-in-law.

You didn't know the Forge Master originally made it years ago.

And you don't know how Chief is going to react.

*

He's still looking all over around your living quarters when you unlock the door and stride in.

"Ah, you're back," he says, and without missing a beat as he's lifting piles of pelts and furs he asks, "Have you seen my sword?"

It wasn't like he was going on a mission today, you knew, but he likes having it just in case. You'd figured you'd get it done before he started his day, before he woke up maybe if the anvil was hot enough, early enough.

It just didn't happen that way.

Chief hasn't stopped looking long enough to kiss you yet.

*

Chief laughs. "Leave it to my wife to sneak my sword out from under my nose."

"Ay, that's why ya married her. An' her heart was in the right place for ya, with this." The Forge Master rubs the back of his lumpy neck. "I woulda done it if I didn't know the sword plain in front of me face. The nads on this lass for having it on her!"

The assistant pulls the Greatsword out from one of their prized chests and gives it to the Forge Master, who hands the blade back to Chief after a quick glance.

Chief pushes it back to him, shaking his head. His smile is serene.

"You have my permission to do whatever my wife wants you to do," he declares. "I'm sure Dad would have loved her for commissioning you in the first place."

"He woulda had a laugh, but you ain't upset?" the Forge Master asks. His laughter bursts and he shoots up from his chair to shake hands. "You're a different man. If someone done this years ago, you'da hunt 'em all over Astera for even touching it."

You couldn't blame him for it.

You couldn't blame him at all.

*

Chief slips his arm around your waist while you're riding the lift back down to the shipyard, pulling you to him. His head's tucked on your shoulder, his cheekbones pressed against the side of your face.

"I'm sorry he ruined the surprise," he says. You're watching the sunset on your way down. "Unfortunately, he had a good reason. Good to know he still cares after all this time."

You apologize for messing with his sword, for tinkering with something he held dear and you had no idea. And you apologize further when you realize that if he didn't trust you, this could have been seen as a foiled sabotage attempt.

You overstepped the line.

"You didn't know, but I do have to say, you're pretty brave for stealing another Hunter's weapon while they're sleeping." He kisses you behind the ear. "Even if you're married to them."

You're on your way to the canteen, when Chief's hand grabs you gently by the wrist.

"It's our anniversary," he says. "Let’s head back to our room. I have the palicos waiting for us with a private dinner."

He didn't forget after all, and now you're giddy -- just as giddy as you were the night of the Appreciation Festival, the night Chief made you his bride.

*