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Ever since Orym gave the first flower to Dorian weeks ago, giving flowers to Dorian had quickly become a normal thing for Orym to do on a whim. Whether they were both exhausted and bitter from a long and hard fight, or Orym wanted to give Dorian flowers “just because”, there was seldom a moment where Dorian did not have a flower with him. They were always blue as well. Never the same shade of blue, but blue nonetheless, and Dorian appreciated how well they went with his outfits. It always seemed to add a boost of confidence, genuine confidence, that everyone seemed to feel and benefit from. It was always the same way that Orym would give the flower to Dorian as well, telling him there was something in his hair and tucking the flower behind his ear once he bent down. Though it may have lost the charming surprise that it had the first time Orym did it, it remained a sweet gesture and to give away a flower through any other gesture felt wrong to the both of them.
At first the rest of the party gave interested, almost suspicious, looks to Dorian and Orym whenever they would catch a new type of flower pinned to Dorian's shirt or witnessed Orym craft a new flower out of what seemed to be thin air. Half of the party was already convinced that Dorian and Orym were already in a relationship and they just didn’t want to tell anyone yet. Those who did not think that Orym and Dorian were just poorly hiding their relationship from the rest of the party were of the belief that an actual romantic relationship would form any day, the two just needed to communicate with each other. No one said this to either of them. No amount of vague hinting or blunt conversations would be enough to get them to be honest with each other, it was best to just wait this out and let the pair sort it out themselves. Eventually, however, these occurrences became as routine as the sun rising each morning and the curious looks turned to amused glances.
It was early in the morning, the sun had only just begun to rise over the city and the rest of the party had yet to wake up. The only reason that Orym was awake was simply because he wanted to catch the sunrise. It wasn’t a pleasure which he allowed himself frequently, but after having more than a few hard fights the last few days Orym decided that this would be okay for now. He snuck out of the bed that he shared with Dorian and Fearne, careful to not wake either of them. Fearne was a heavy sleeper, Orym wasn’t concerned about waking her, but he would have felt awful if he had waken Dorian. Dorian was just as exhausted as Orym was last night, if not more so, so Orym was determined to let his friend get a little more rest.
The stairs creaked as Orym walked down, but it drew the attention of no one save for a few patrons who had fallen asleep at their table after more than a few drinks. He wasn’t concerned about drawing their attention, they were mostly hungover and fairly harmless. No one would’ve said anything about him sneaking out this early. Before he stepped out into the morning, two thunks came from behind Orym as the patrons who had noticed the halfling coming down the stairs moments ago fell right back asleep.
The morning was crisp, the cool air felt sharp against Orym’s skin. The sun hadn’t made its way up all the way just yet, it was only beginning to peak over buildings, but it would be pleasant to feel the morning go from such a harsh cool temperature to something more welcoming and warm. He found a place against the front wall of the tavern and drew his knees up to his chest as he sat. His body slowly started to become accustomed to the cool temperature of the morning the longer he sat outside, and his exhaustion melted away as he allowed himself to not focus too hard on any one thing and to just relax for a moment.
The tavern door creaked open, and Orym jumped to see who was either entering or leaving the building. From the other side of the door Orym saw a blue-orange cape and winged boots appear. Looking up just a little more he was met with striking yet tired blue eyes. The exhaustion faded from the expression once Orym was recognized, and was replaced with a fond delight.
“Orym! I figured you would be out here, mind if I join you?” Dorian’s voice was still slightly scratchy and rough, Orym had figured Dorian must have woken up not long after he had left. Now that he was thinking about it, he had heard some movement in the room just before shutting the door. If anyone were to follow him outside, there was no one else he would rather have with him now.
“Please, be my guest.” Orym patted a bit of ground to his right, and Dorian sat just ever so slightly closer to Orym than where Orym had initially gestured. This wasn’t a problem in the slightest, it was very welcomed if anything, Orym was just confused as to why he would sit so close. “Did you sleep well?” He asked after Dorian had sat down and gotten himself comfortable.
“It was alright, all things considered. I do wish Fearne would stop kicking us in her sleep though!”
“Ha! That’s a dream, pun intended,” Orym said, fighting back a stupidly large grin. Dorian was silent for a minute as he tried to process where Orym’s pun was.
“Oh. Oh Orym, that was terrible! It’s far too early for this,” Dorian laughed, shaking his head and leaning forward ever so slightly as he tried to quiet his laughter as it echoed in the early morning streets. The attempt was futile as Orym also began laughing at his own terrible joke, which only led to Dorian laughing harder.
The two laughed together, having long given up on trying to be quiet. It felt nice that for once they didn’t feel stress weighing them down, they didn’t have to spend hours on end planning their next move or preparing for their next fight. For once, they were just laughing and having fun and existing together in a low stakes situation. Something that both Dorian and Orym had needed for a long time now. The morning was still cool, anyone else would be shivering out in this temperature, but the cold seemed to have no effect on either of them. Dorian was never affected by temperatures like this, being an air genasi had more perks than one would initially think, but Orym was surprised that he no longer felt the cold. After laughing so hard for so long, he felt nothing but a comfortable warmth wash over him.
“It’s nice, peaceful,” Dorian mused some time after they stopped laughing, and on his face was a smile that Orym would never want to forget. It was subtle, but it was also the brightest thing out there in the morning sunlight.
Dorian was charming, Orym knew this good and well, but he was always putting on a show. His smiles were always grand and self assured, never afraid to be bold even if it resulted in him falling on his face because in the end he would always pick himself back up. However, it was almost always a performance. This was different. This smile, this expression as a whole, didn’t draw attention to itself. Dorian was savouring the rare moment of peace, taking in every detail lest it ended too soon, but also there was not a single worry etched on his face. It was an expression that managed to be both vulnerable and comfortable. He was just happy to be here, to be present in the moment. Everything that worried him were things outside of this moment, and he didn’t need to worry about them now.
“Yeah. Yeah, it is nice,” Orym agreed, finally able to tear his gaze away from Dorian. The sky was a dusty orange now, the streets silent still. “Can I braid flowers into your hair?” Orym didn’t have time to process the question before it left his mouth, and he felt as surprised at the question as Dorian looked. Less than a second had passed though before Dorian’s look of surprise shifted into something else, something brighter. Dorian is always so bright, Orym thought to himself while waiting for a genuine response.
“Would you really do that for me? I’ve always wanted my hair braided with flowers but with my family… well. You know how it goes. But I digress, I would love that!”
“I mean, I did offer, didn’t I? Of course I’ll braid your hair,” Orym teased lightly as he crafted some flowers for the braids. “Do you have any preference for the style I do?”
“Not necessarily, I trust your judgement!” Orym chuckled, flattered that Dorian would trust him with his hair, and got to work. Without so much as a word, he began separating parts of hair, twisting and tying to his heart's content. There was only one moment in which Orym had to restart the braid, simply because he lost track of his pattern after laughing at a joke Dorian had made. Once the braid was moving at a consistent pace, Dorian melted into Orym’s hands as he worked. Orym could feel the trust and comfort Dorian had practically radiating off of him. Afterward, the pair fell into a comfortable silence. 'It’s nice', Orym thought as he added flowers to the braid, ‘to have a friendship that doesn’t require the both of us having constant conversation.'
“Orym? Can I ask you a question?” The sudden question from Dorian caught Orym off guard, and he nearly dropped the braid but held on just tight enough that it wouldn’t fall apart.
“Always, what’s on your mind?” There was a pause. “Dorian?”
“Well, I was just thinking. It’s been a hard few days, you know? And those last few fights… were hard. And I say this because I care about you and I worry about you, but you were having as hard a time as any of us and yet you kept throwing yourself in front of us as soon as we seemed even slightly in danger. I just want to know why you do that?”
Orym stayed silent, sliding a small bunch of forget-me-nots into its rightful place in the braid. Then he sighed, managing to not to drop the braid.
“I don’t know, I guess I’ve never really noticed it? I didn’t mean to worry you if that’s what this is about.” Dorian shifted in place and Orym could tell he wasn’t satisfied with that answer. 'It’s fair of him to not be satisfied with that answer, it was a lie after all', Orym bit his tongue while thinking this, being careful to not say any of it aloud while he waited for Dorian’s next response.
“It both is and it isn’t what this is about. I am worried about you, we all are, but we’re worried about you because you’re being reckless and diving into trouble headfirst without so much as a second thought as to how this might affect you. A lot of us are experienced adventurers, and those of us who aren’t at least know how to get ourselves out of trouble. You don’t need to worry about helping us when it’s at the cost of your own life. Doing it a few times is fine, we’re a party after all, it’s what we do, we help each other when we need it, but all of the time? Orym, please. There has to be more to this.”
A drawn out pause as Orym finished up the braid, tying it together with a vine and tucking in some leaves and a blue violet, all of which he had crafted. Then standing, he moved to Dorian’s side before sitting back down with minimal space between them. This was not a conversation that Orym had planned on having today, and it was one that would quite possibly cause Dorian to see Orym in a different light. Whether that was a good or bad thing was yet to be determined.
“Your hair looks nice when it’s braided,” the halfling noted, making a point of not looking anywhere other than at the pebbles in front of his feet.
“Thank you, it feels nice to have it out of the way.”
This new silence was not comfortable, to say the least. It was heavy and unfamiliar. It was tense and cold and made the pair all too aware of how cold it truly was that morning.
“The last thing I want is for someone to need me, and for me to not be there for them when the time comes. I made that mistake once and I never forgave myself. So I try to make myself feel better through being there for everyone all of the time, especially in combat, and putting myself second. It… doesn’t really work, but I keep trying. I know it’s self destructive and I know there’s other ways of dealing with this grief and fear, but this is the only way that feels right. The only way I know how to feel like I’m doing the right thing, and the only way I won’t worry about the safety of my loved ones at any given moment, is if I’m constantly ready to defend them when they need it.”
“And now here we are.”
“And now here we are,” Orym repeated solemnly. With furrowed eyebrows and a downcast gaze, the air genasi beside him remained silent.
Dorian thought carefully about everything that had been said, and the moment was drawn out for longer than Orym would have liked. He worried that he had dumped too much into Dorian, that he would now look at him differently after hearing from this different, more upsetting side of Orym.
“Would it be alright with you if I gave my thoughts on this?”
“Might as well while we’re here, right? Go for it.” Dorian inhaled a slow, deep breath before he spoke.
“I think you’re one of the bravest people I know. I think that you’re headstrong and courageous, even to a fault. That being said, I’m more than willing to help you work through the idea that you need to be there for everyone all of the time just so you can make up for some long gone mistake. My sincerest apologies, by the way. I don’t know who you were referring to when you said that you made this mistake once, but I’m sorry that you were unable to be there for them and lost them. Really, my condolences. Either way though, I’m sure it was something entirely unexpected and you could not have planned to have been there for them.”
“It was my husband. Riegel.” If he was going to say it, he might as well be blunt about it, Orym decided. He thought that it would make it less painful to say. He was wrong.
“Your- oh. Oh, Orym, I’m so sorry. I really… I’m so sorry to hear that.” Dorian’s voice was gentle, it was calm and consistent but Orym could still practically hear Dorian’s heart break at the newly learnt information. Before he could suppress his emotions anymore, tears began to well at the corners of Orym’s eyes. There was no attempt made to stop the tears.
“It was years ago now, almost twelve years ago actually. He was older, sure, but he wasn’t supposed to die. Not yet. I just feel as though if I keep fighting for the people who I love most, it’ll keep a part of him alive.”
“A part of him will always be alive, Orym. So long as you continue to remember him and live your life by doing what you love and what’s important to you, a part of him will always be alive.”
A blue hand rested itself on Orym’s knee, and he looked over to see Dorian looking at him with an expression that was nothing short of concerned and heartbroken. The small gesture of physical affection and the reassurance that Dorian was there for him tugged on Orym’s heartstrings, and tears began to fall to the ground. There was an attempt to wipe them away, but it was pointless. Dorian had already seen him cry, after all.
“Thanks Dorian. That really means a lot, I’m sorry for crying in front of you.”
“Oh stop with that nonsense, there’s nothing wrong with crying, especially in front of those who you trust. I’m honoured that you trust me with this. Now, may I say one last thing?”
Orym chuckled, though nothing in the moment was actually all that funny. “By all means, go ahead.”
“You said that the only way you know how to show love is through defending those who you love. I would argue that that’s simply not true. Would you say that there’s no love in helping Imogen recover when she gets overwhelmed after using her magic? In helping Ashton fix up F.C.G when they need it?”
“Dorian-“ Orym knew where this was going, and he knew that no protests from him would stop Dorian from saying what he wanted to say, but he tried regardless before being cut off.
“Would you tell me that there was no love put into my braid that you put time and care into? Something so small and simple, yet something that made me feel loved and cared for and valued?”
“Of course there is.” His voice was soft, and he felt more fragile than he had ever felt before. If anyone else had said this to him, Orym would have shut down and put up his defences, but this wasn’t anyone else. This was Dorian, sitting out here with him in the early morning and sharing this moment. Orym allowed himself to be even a little bit vulnerable in this moment.
“Exactly! Orym, there’s love in everything you do. You don’t have to be self-sacrificial to prove your love.”
A sigh escaped from Orym. Dorian was right, and he had never had someone put that sentiment into such careful but firm words for him. “You make a pretty good point. It’s going to take some time for that to get through to me, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Of course, no one is saying you have to get used to that idea right now, but I’ll be here while you try.”
They fell into another moment of silence, a lull in the conversation. The silence was not like the last one, nor was it like the first one. It was refreshing, like the first rain after a string of hot days. It was a cathartic cry when you’ve bottled too much up, it was dipping your feet into cold river water after a gruelling hike. To say the least, they both felt a weight remove itself from their chests. Orym felt as though he was breathing easier now, and Dorian looked to be feeling the same.
“Dorian?”
“Hm?”
“Thank you.” Orym sat for a second, thinking carefully about his next words. “I love you, Dorian.”
“I love you too. Truly. But could you indulge me with one last question?” Orym gave a small half laugh and smiled fondly at the genasi next to him.
“I think you said ‘one last question’ four questions ago. Anything.”
“Where did you learn to braid so well?”
“A lot of the Ashari that I knew had long hair, and when word got around that I was half decent at braiding hair then absolutely no one gave me a break! The small hands also probably help with the braiding, but that just feels like a given. Now I have a question for you though, do you happen to know the meanings of the flowers in your hair?”
Dorian laughed, looking down at the ground before looking over at Orym.
“As a matter of fact I do. The forget-me-nots are for true love, loyalty, and respect. The violets are also for love, as well as affection, faith, and intuition. The blue roses mean royalty.” As Dorian listed off the types of flowers in his hair and their meaning, he delicately held each respective flower between his fingers. “I have to admit, I appreciate the dedication to making all of the flowers blue and purple!”
Orym flushed, the tips of his ears now feeling hot. He hadn’t expected Dorian to actually know what the flowers all meant, and was a little embarrassed that he had asked. At this point Orym’s feelings for Dorian were painfully obvious and he didn’t know what to do with this fact. Maybe it would have been better if it was just unspoken knowledge between the two of them? 'Gods, I’m way in over my head', Orym worried silently, picking at the rough skin on his hands just so that he would have something to do with his hands. Dorian did say that he loved him, but maybe there was some miscommunication. Maybe Orym had misread this entire interaction?
Before Orym could spiral further down into his thoughts, Dorian spoke again and brought him back into the moment.
“We should probably go back inside soon, the others are sure to be waking any time now,” he said, tossing his braid back behind his shoulder but not moving to stand quite yet.
Orym, still in a daze from his near spiral, nodded slowly before he could speak again. When he found it in himself to speak, he simply agreed with Dorian and said that the day would have to begin eventually, despite wanting this moment to last for as long as possible.
“Well let’s get the day started now, shall we? I’m going to go see if anyone else is awake and then I’m going to see if there’s any breakfast here, I’ll see you inside. Oh, and thank you for the braid” After placing a kiss, slightly awkward yet tender, on the top of Orym’s head, Dorian stood up and disappeared inside. The halfling sat still for a few moments, his mind racing in an attempt to process what had just happened in the last little while. Dorian had just kissed him after that honestly stressful conversation. He also told Orym that he loved him. It was, to say the least, a lot for him to process. He felt dizzy, like he was floating, but that could also have been attributed to the fact that he hadn’t eaten yet today.
Forcing himself to stand and move into the tavern, Orym still felt as though he was floating as he passed by Imogen who seemed to be on her way outside. “Mornin’ Imogen,” he greeted as they crossed paths, and though she only nodded in response, Orym felt a slight tingle in the back of his mind. Despite having known Imogen for a few weeks at this point, Orym had yet to get used to the feeling of her speaking to him mentally.
“I was always rooting for you and Dorian, you two have something special. I’m glad to see it worked out.” Imogen’s voice rang like bells in Orym’s head and he huffed out a small laugh, smiling even long after Imogen had left.
Things did work out, didn’t they? It took them a while to get here, and it happened when it was least expected, but Orym was just glad they got here eventually. He didn’t worry about what the future had in store for them today, tomorrow, or for a while. Despite the fact that they had gone up against some hard times and it didn’t seem as though these tough times had an end in sight, Orym had his party with him. He had Dorian with him. He had people who cared about him as much as he cared about them, people who would love him even if he didn’t show his love through reckless and dangerous acts. Eventually he would have to complete his job for the Ashari, eventually he would have to leave the party, but that wasn’t anything worth worrying about yet. He’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.