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"Captain," the man across from Dainsleif spoke softly. His silver hair glistened beautifully in the afternoon sun, and his eyes were as clear as the ocean's blue. If Dain wasn't careful, he'd drown in them and never emerge again. Though frankly, the prospect of it didn't deter him at all; in fact, he desired nothing more than to be closer to the other man, but… he was his superior. A friend, too, but…
"Captain?" So whenever the man referred to him like that, it hurt. His chest would ache so terribly. Of course, Dain could try to suppress those feelings, though what an insult it'd be. Halfdan deserved to be loved, Dain deserved to love him, and even if they could never be, loving him silently was still the more preferable option.
"…Captain?"
"Halfdan," Dainsleif finally answered his companion's call. He must've looked as if he'd zoned out.
However, the man of Blue and Silver didn't mind. The curves of his eyes tilted upward as he let out a light laugh. "Still thinking about work?"
No, thinking about you.
"Yes," Dain replied with a small smile and took another sip of his wine. He cursed his bad luck of drowning in longing while the two of them were together, in private, for what was supposed to be a festive occasion.
But Halfdan understood, perhaps a little too well, the turmoil in his captain's– no, his friend's heart. After all, he felt the same way. Would he make a move? Well, he'd been trying to give the Captain signs over and over again. So why then did the latter, the best among them all at seizing opportunities, fail to catch his heart?
"I'm sorry, Halfdan. It seems that I still haven't learned how to loosen up."
"Ha, don't worry, Captain, that's what the wine is for," Halfdan laughed again, leaning back on his elbows. His mesmerizing eyes lingered on Dain for a little too long; too long to be induced by alcohol, too long to be strictly platonic. Trust, longing, devotion… as well as all that which couldn't be put in words. It was so beautiful that it hurt.
Why, if they both felt the same, weren't they honest with each other? Dain would ask himself that question five hundred years later—too late, long after the dust had settled.
But before there was dust, there was grass, light, rain, life. As soldiers of the Kingdom, they were proud to call the prosperous nation of Khaenri'ah their homeland. As humans, they were proud to call the godless nation of Khaenri'ah their home. If Halfdan was blue and silver, reminiscent of a sea of Inteyvats… Dainsleif was blue and gold, the sun in the sky above.
Finally, the golden man brushed his wistful musings aside. Setting down his glass of wine, he inched closer to Halfdan, a gentle smile on his lips. "You remind me of the symbol of our people. Perhaps you should've been promoted as the new Captain of the Royal Guard in my stead?" Dain teased affectionately.
"Funny you say that, because I was just thinking of putting an Inteyvat in your hair," Halfdan mumbled with rosy cheeks. His fingers wandered through the grass, easily finding what he was looking for, and thus, he plucked one among countless flowers between them.
"Beautiful." With a satisfied expression, Halfdan inspected the work of art that was Dain. He, who was normally so sharp and aloof, suddenly looked soft and tangible. So, Halfdan did touch him; cautiously, adoringly, confessing.
For once, Dain allowed himself to receive, and leaned into the man's touch. For once, he didn't retreat when Halfdan—Halfdan—pulled him closer. Until they were lying in the grass side by side, surrounded by the vivid flowers of the nation they called home.
"You see, if we were to ever part, at least those would remain." A tender finger brushed the petals in Dain's hair.
"Don't jinx it," Dain rebuked, though with no trace of malice in his voice.
A chuckle left Halfdan's lips before he whispered, "Are you that afraid of losing me?"
Yes, I am.
"As soldiers of the Kingdom, our lives could end at any moment. It's only sensible to prepare for the worst," Dain said instead, also in a whisper for he had already abandoned all faith in his own voice.
"…Two glasses of wine and you're still serious, Captain," the silver-haired man teased with a shake of his head.
"Well, perhaps if you didn't call me Captain all the time." The words escaped Dain's mouth before he could stop them.
With a racing heart, Dain watched as Halfdan registered the meaning of those words albeit a bit late, his deep blue eyes widening in understanding. "You're right. Right now, you're not the Captain. …You're Dainsleif, aren't you?"
"Correct."
Indeed, it had never been the Twilight Sword that Halfdan had fallen in love with; it had always been the person underneath, the heart beneath the suit of armor. And right there, for what was probably the first time, there was Dainsleif.
Back then, Halfdan didn't know it would also be the last time. Perhaps if he had known, he would have acted upon his heart's desires and kissed him. Or perhaps, Dain would've done it. All Dainsleif knew five centuries later was that he wanted to do it, too.
But alas, none of them knew, and so those infinite what-ifs were buried below the dust.
What were the chances that this pair of star-crossed lovers met again in the same life? Not even one in a million. Yet there they were, reunited after so long, only to be parted so brutally and tragically once more.
During the cataclysm five hundred years ago, they didn't have time for a proper goodbye. But now, as the half of the pair that was still there, Dainsleif finally seized the opportunity to let Halfdan go in peace.
Once he and the Traveler parted ways, he stayed behind in the godforsaken hall where one of his men, his friend, his love had taken his final breath. However, that place, open and accessible to all who dared to enter, shouldn't be for the dead. So with a gloomy yet resolute expression, Dain decided to carry Halfdan's husk away.
Halfdan—or what was left of him—deserved a proper grave. Dain cursed the fact that there was nothing with which to adorn his resting place.
Then suddenly, he remembered.
"Welcome home."
Words spoken so softly they didn't even reach his own ears. A flower that had once graced his golden hair now given back to the earth. After five hundred years, reuniting Halfdan with the last remnants of their homeland, their shared home.
In his heart, Dain bid farewell to his old friend and lost love. Maybe if the stars allowed it, their love could blossom in another life before the dust settled.