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It's a nice night out. Clear skies, low winds, no real chill in the air but not too balmy. On a night like this, stopping at an inn feels like a waste. Khalid doesn’t relish sleeping on the ground by any stretch of the imagination, but in his opinion, they should save their gold for nastier nights. He'd rather sleep outside on a night like this than be too broke to rent a room when poor weather hits. He's been outvoted, though. The promise of actual beds is just too tempting, and once Hilda has gotten her mind set on something she wants, it's near-impossible to get her to let it go.
Still, it would be a shame to waste such fair weather. So, while the rest of his party is indoors, finishing their evening meal in the inn, Khalid slips outside to take a walk.
Well, most of the party is indoors.
Leaving the inn, it's a short walk to the nearby river. The inn's main source of fresh water, Khalid assumes. The water doesn't run so much as it glides down the riverbed, a few rainless nights leaving it diminutive and calm. Its movement is so subtle that the moon and stars reflect off the surface of moving water as clearly as they would off a placid lake—an enchanting sight, to be sure, but not nearly so much as the vision standing beside it.
Alone on the riverbank, a tall figure clad in a wizard's robes is moving his hands in odd motions. The only other member of their party that isn’t enjoying their limited time at the inn, Lorenz would never be so rude as to practice his magic indoors unless the indoor space is explicitly intended for such things. The inn is not one of those spaces. It's just as well, Khalid thinks. Lorenz is made to stand below the clear night sky. He must be, for the way it washes him out in ethereal luminescence, shining violet into silver, staining him with starlight. How can he look so naturally unnatural, so impossibly beautiful, unless he has been made specifically for this?
Admittedly, Khalid finds Lorenz impossibly beautiful in most locations and at various times of the day. So. He may be biased.
He lets his steps audibly crunch against the riverbed pebbles as he approaches. Sneaking up on a wizard is an excellent way to get your eyebrows burnt off, if not your entire face. Best to let Lorenz know he's there. Khalid sees long, pointed ears twitch at the sound, enough to reassure him that the high elf has heard him. He steps closer and goes thankfully unscorched as he stands beside his companion.
"We've been non-stop all day," Khalid points out. "And tomorrow is shaping up to be much the same. I know you're a hard worker, but even you should take a break while you have the chance."
"I am taking a break, thank you very much." Lorenz sniffs in haughty indignation, turning his head slightly to face Khalid more than the river.
"It looked like you were casting a spell. I thought you'd burnt through your reserves already today." Khalid keeps his tone casual, coating any concern with the nonchalance most people take at face value. Lorenz will see through it. He always does these days.
Khalid doesn’t mind that as much as he used to.
"Oh, are you an expert in magic now? I must have missed it, as I do not recall seeing you commit to extensive magical studies during our travels." Lorenz challenges, and Khalid rolls his eyes before the high elf has finished speaking.
"It doesn’t take a wizard or warlock to know it's dangerous to overdo it."
"I know my limits, Khalid," Lorenz tells him, and Khalid wishes he knew the reasoning behind Lorenz's use of that name. Most of their party still calls him Claude, the name he'd introduced himself as and the name they've known for quite some time. His original name has come to light relatively recently, and upon his reassurance that either name is fine, the rest of the party has kept mainly to 'Claude.' Not Lorenz, though.
Khalid longs to know why.
He knows better than to ask.
"So you say," Khalid sighs, shaking his head.
"Yet you do not believe me."
"It's not that I don't believe you so much as I know you, and I know that knowing your limits never stops you from trying to push yourself past them." There is a contemplative silence, at that, as Lorenz considers his words. They aren’t wrong, so he can't refute them.
"You worry far too much about others and not nearly enough about yourself." He finally says. Khalid can’t help but breathe out a laugh.
Hypocrite, he nearly says. He decides against that. He doesn't want to get Lorenz's guard up.
"I worry about myself plenty," he assures. "But there aren't many people I trust at my back and even fewer people I'm close to in any meaningful way." As Khalid speaks, staring at the river, he sees sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. Lorenz's head has whipped around to look at him head-on. When Khalid turns to meet his eyes, he sees shock painted across angular features.
Opening up still makes him uneasy, but it's worth catching Lorenz off-guard like this. Khalid tries for a grin but only manages a soft smile that likely gives away far more of his fondness than he intends.
Khalid can't find it in himself to correct that slip. There’s no need to, in present company.
"Is it so unusual that I worry for you?" They're alone on the riverbank, but all the same, Khalid's words are quiet, making their home in the quiet space of the night between the two of them. Violet eyes gleam as Lorenz regards him.
There is a yearning in Lorenz's eyes, usually dampened by the sun's glare but so vivid in the moon's gentle glow.
"Perhaps it is not so unusual," Lorenz concedes after a silence long enough Khalid had thought he wouldn't answer at all. "But it is unnecessary."
"As a general rule, maybe so." He shrugs, but any pretence of indifference crumbles to pieces as the look in Lorenz's eyes pins him down and tears him open to see right through. "But to me? It is entirely necessary."
"Must you always make your own rules?" Lorenz sighs, undoubtedly meaning to sound exasperated but only coming off as painfully fond.
"Oh, absolutely, you know I must." Khalid finally manages a grin. It doesn't last long before it melts under the warmth with which Lorenz regards him. "But in my defence, I don't have much say in the matter."
"Do you not?" They're practically whispering now, inching closer to hear each other. Or maybe that's an excuse. Maybe they're inching closer for the sake of being closer.
"Not at all," Khalid breathes the words. They're close enough now that he can smell roses and parchment, and the familiar, beloved scent makes his heart ache. He needs Lorenz closer, though there's little room left between them. "Not when it comes to you."
"How terribly inconvenient that must be for you."
"A bit, but you know me. I'm adaptable."
"That you are," Lorenz murmurs. Khalid watches the slight movement of his lips, hypnotized by the sight, caught by the realization that if he stood on the tips of his toes, he could— "I want to show you something."
The words come quickly, suddenly, blurted as if Lorenz has to rush to say them for some reason.
"Yeah? Show me, then." Khalid watches as Lorenz swallows, the shadows cast by the moon emphasizing every little movement of his throat. Khalid wonders how they'd feel beneath his lips.
"I was… indulging," Lorenz explains, his words stilted despite his usual eloquence. Perhaps this is as much uncharted ground for him as it is for Khalid. "In the Weave."
"The Weave?" Khalid raises an eyebrow. He isn’t sure what he expected, but he knows it wasn't that. "How does one indulge in the realm of magic?"
"That's what I want to show you." Gingerly, Lorenz reaches out. Just the barest brush of fingertips against Khalid's palms, but the touch is emboldened when Khalid doesn't pull away. Lorenz takes Khalid's hands in his own. That's all he does for a moment, just stands there and stares down at their hands. He only looks up to meet Khalid's eyes as he asks: "Would you like to experience the Weave with me?"
"Alright," he agrees and immediately regrets it when Lorenz drops his hands and steps away. However, Khalid bites his tongue on his complaints, curious as to where this is going.
"Copy my movements," Lorenz tells him, and Khalid dreads that it will be one of the many complex and confounding gestures he's seen Lorenz perform when casting. Thankfully, it is nothing like that at all. Very simple, straightforward movements that are absolutely within Khalid's ability. When he successfully copies, Lorenz smiles, thus stealing Khalid's breath away. Which is inconvenient because the next thing Lorenz tells him to do is: "That just leaves a brief incantation. Listen carefully, then repeat: Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao"
He has to hurriedly regain his stolen breath to manage it but, again, it's not as complicated—
Oh.
It's hard to tell, at first, considering Lorenz always smells vaguely of roses, but there is a distinct scent of rosewater emanating from all around them. The scent is subtle but all-consuming, and with it comes a distinct feeling of reassurance.
It will be alright, something tells him. He's safe. He's home.
It's a feeling he'd known once but had feared he'd forgotten.
It captures him so thoroughly that he almost misses Lorenz's next instructions.
"Now, you must picture the concept of harmony."
Harmony? What is harmony to Khalid? His parents had been in harmony with him and with each other. He has plenty of memories of them he could call upon, despite how far away and vague they feel. For him, thinking of the concept of harmony brings to mind family. Not necessarily blood relation, but family in the truest sense of the word. He thinks of belonging. He thinks of people who, despite how different they are from each other, care dearly for each other all the same because of those differences and not in spite of them.
As he considers this, images of their party fill his mind. All of them: Hilda, Marianne, Leonie, Lysithea, Raphael, Ignatz, and of course Lorenz and Khalid himself. A family that has found each other, that supports each other, that has been through hell together and yet refuses to abandon each other for an easier path. He remembers sitting around a campfire as Hilda tells a story, with dramatic hand gestures and exaggerated descriptions. He remembers how she does voices for different characters simply because it delights her friends. He remembers the first time he saw Marianne truly smile, the first time she burst into delicate laughter with them. He remembers Leonie teaching them to make a cheap, pastry-adjacent biscuit and Lysithea's reluctant enjoyment of said biscuits. He remembers going hunting and watching Raphael outright punch a boar that had been about to charge at Ignatz.
He remembers Lorenz. He remembers meeting eyes from across the campfire with initial suspicion, which gradually gave way to affection.
He remembers the warm, chaotic mess that is his found family. Maybe to anyone else, they would be the exact antithesis of harmony. Khalid isn’t anyone else, though, and it does the trick.
It's like the river has ascended from its bed. Though the water remains in its place, waves and streams of various shades of blue materialize around them. The moon does not light them because they produce a light all their own. They are accompanied by the feeling of a new presence, so potent that Khalid looks around to see if they're being watched before he realizes:
It's Mystra. He's feeling the presence of Mystra because he's one with the Weave.
Her presence isn't a threat. Quite the opposite, a sense of peace comes upon him, so potent and so precious that it's no wonder Lorenz would 'indulge' in this at any given opportunity. He looks to Lorenz and sees violet eyes sparkling, a smile wider than any he's seen on Lorenz before.
"Look at you," Lorenz sounds oddly choked up. "I knew you could do it."
"I'm lucky to have a steady hand to guide me through it." Khalid steps forward to close the distance Lorenz had created between them for the sake of this ritual. Even if they're physically standing apart, the Weave wraps their souls together so tightly it's as if they're one and the same. Khalid can feel Lorenz there without reaching out to touch. Lorenz feels downright giddy but nervous, emboldened yet cautious, contradicting himself at every turn. Khalid focuses on his own fondness and certainty, hoping it will reassure his friend.
Lorenz exhales a shaky breath, and Khalid is overwhelmed by the desire to taste the way it shudders, to catch it with his lips and hold it on his tongue. The desire comes upon him unbidden and too quickly to try to block it out before Lorenz sees it. Khalid knows the exact moment the image transfers. Lorenz's usually-narrow eyes widen marginally. He stops breathing altogether.
Then, between one rapid-fire heartbeat and the next, Khalid is yanked forward and kissed hard.
He immediately throws his arms around Lorenz's neck and kisses back just as fervently as Lorenz's hands grip Khalid's hips unyieldingly. The kisses are frantic, rushed and unrefined. Their tongues meet and tangle together with no rhyme or reason, with no rhythm to speak of. Khalid is usually more thoughtful than this, but he's finding it quite challenging to have any thoughts that aren't 'is this actually happening' or 'don't stop.'
They've put this off for too long; their desperation cannot help how it shines through. They press against each other as much as they can, thirsty for every inch of contact they can get, starving for as much of each other as they can stomach. A whine leaves Lorenz's throat and catches on a gasp falling from Khalid's lips, and he sincerely cannot tell which of them sounds needier.
He hopes Mystra isn't too upset about the unintentional voyeurism she's been dragged into.
They should return to the inn before anyone else gets added to that list of unintended voyeurs. Besides, as hot as being pinned and taken against a tree sounds (Lorenz outright moans as that mental image is shared between them), in practice, it's likely not as sexy as it sounds. Besides, they've been working up to this for so long. Now it's finally happening, and there's an inn a stone's throw away with beds they've already paid for, where they can take each other apart far more thoroughly—
"Yes," Lorenz hisses, pulling away from the kiss and releasing Khalid's hips to grab him by the hand and pull him along. "Yes, absolutely, a fantastic idea." He speaks quickly, already hurrying towards the inn. Khalid laughs freely as the lights of the Weave dissipate around them, as the additional presence around them disperses, as his feelings and thoughts return to being only his own.
"I think this might be the first time you've gone along with one of my plans without arguing even a little," he points out as they reach the porch. Lorenz pauses and raises an eyebrow.
"Would you rather I delay us to rectify that?" He teases, tone serious but eyes belaying his mirth.
"Don't you dare," Khalid responds immediately, startling a chuckle from the high elf as they head inside and make a beeline to one of their rooms.
Down by the river, a laugh like windchimes carries on the breeze, as the last vestige wisps of the Weave are swallowed by the night.