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The early morning of the Somniel café terrace brings a peace that tends to be missed by many of its inhabitants, so it is understandable that Nel finds herself stepping out of the living quarters at a time where only Seadall is wiping the bar counter for the next person on duty, the Firenese muscle-heads are out stretching before their morning marathons, and Diamant is taking a break with a spicy tea before heading back to his room to avoid more sleep. Today, however, Diamant isn’t alone at his table.
“Good morning, Divine Dragon.” Nel greets. You would have to dig unbelievably deep to find the hint of fond surprise in her tone.
“Good morning, Nel. You know, you can call me Alear. We’re there, wouldn’t you say?”
“We are.” She does not correct herself nor elaborate further. “Little prince,” she nods to Diamant in a much more pointed greeting, then steps out into the plaza out of sight.
By some defensive instinct, Diamant slides his forearm where a finger scratches at the tablecloth by Alear’s plated teacup. Alear’s smile is curious when he meets him halfway, curling a finger around Diamant’s.
“Did she seem… tense, to you?” Diamant tries.
A small line creases between Diamant’s brows as they angle upwards, not matching the energy of his unsure smile.
“I don’t think so,” Alear laughs. Diamant’s nerves are quite the rarity. “Are you…?” he lowers his voice to a whisper. “Does she scare you?”
“Of course not.” Diamant says, a little loud, but tilts his head thoughtfully. “I suppose, truthfully, maybe I am a little intimidated. After our last conversation, she claimed she would start observing me.”
“What?” Alear laughs. “Why?”
“She is trying to piece together for herself whether I will be a good king. But… I cannot help but feel the weight of her intentions, like there is more to it than that.”
Alear hums. “Sounds like she isn’t the only one observing.”
Diamant chuckles. “Call it a wariness, or an equal exchange. Though, really, I should be used to eyes examining my every move for any faults by now.”
That’s not true, Alear wants to tell him. He opts for giving his hand a squeeze. Diamant seems to be still figuring out how much vulnerability he’s willing to show, and decides to call this enough.
“Would you care for a walk, Divine One?”
“Oh? Shirking your duties for a nice walk?”
“Making sure my Divine Dragon is well is a big part of my duty nowadays.”
Alear is sure the goddesses from multiple other worlds could see the color in his cheeks.
“I will only accept if it means I get to tire you out to get some rest.”
Diamant considers the large pile of missives on his desk. How unappealing they look next to Alear’s lovely smile.
“Deal.”
•••
Be it after a day of simple to gruelling errands, training or battle prep, or upon return from an excursion against enemy lines, Nel finds many of her nights taken by the same routine. A small stone tablet by the fountain in the garden that Alear had graciously presented Nel with as a token to her own world: a memorial of sorts, for her own late Alear, and her twin Nil. She had insisted on her strength, that there was no need for such a thing, especially with how uncomfortable it must feel for Alear to have a grave to a part of himself right in his backyard. But Nel never was quite able to say no to Alear, be it her own or another world’s. Besides, she could not deny the small therapy it has given her, a peaceful break in her day to reflect with the ghosts that give her the strength to live and fight.
On the dot, she is crouched before the small symbolic thing, with the moon already having begun to fall in the sky.
“It has been dawning on me, the overwhelming feeling of our existence perhaps not being so central as we had once thought. Or, as I had thought, rather. Perhaps you knew. Would you have told me, if you did?” Nel gives pauses to silence for responses that seem to only return to her in her mind. “I suppose it was kinder not to.”
“I admit a partial… anger. For a world, this world, where everything went right, I had to die. Though, forgive my selfishness,” she huffs. “A part of me feels I was right to die in a world where I could only love you as a sibling.” A laugh. “I could blame you for that, you know — spoiling me the way you did in our world. Still, sometimes, I feel I was undeserving of your touch and smile.”
Nel sighs.
“Yet even in my own world, I fully intended to kill myself for my loved ones. Perhaps this is just something of a universal truth to my very being — to die. Are these our only two instances? Or is there another Nel out there? Another utopia where she and her true Divine Dragon live and thrive?” A pause and a sad smile. “Don’t worry, I can already hear your argument. I am… thriving, too. Even with you…” her smile falls ever so faintly. Even with you gone.
Another sigh.
“You are my other half. I am devout to every iteration of you, my love. Your conduit, he— he feels familiar in ways both you and my siblings were. It’s strange, living in a world I have been eradicated from. There's a hole that is vaguely shaped like me, but like every wrong puzzle-piece, it’s just slightly off. Sometimes this world’s Alear makes me feel like he is forcing that piece into the slot anyway, and just… going with it.”
Nel chuckles to herself.
“How would you have taken to him, I wonder…?” she shakes her head. “Who am I fooling… you would have loved him as though he were your very own, like you did everyone.”
Nel catches herself sighing for the umpteenth time this night. Even with the war against Sombron and the corrupted, there is a slowness to this world, a subdued urgency and tension compared to what her own world was riddled with, that allows for excessive reflection on things she had always been happy to have kept buried deep.
“It has been difficult, Alear, my love. Seeing your reflection in him at every moment. It may always be difficult — unfortunately that is the price of love and grief. But… truthfully, as selfish as a part of me may feel, it has still been quite refreshing getting to dote on a version of you in a way I had lost so many times. I am given the chance to love you in multiple ways — what greater blessing is there?”
Nel rises from her long crouch, an ache in her knees that she ignores, and gives the small engraved tablet a long look, almost like she was waiting for something. Nothing happens.
“Rest well, it is a lovely night. I will speak to you again soon.”
There is no need to leave a flower. Her Alear is surrounded by the perfect jungle of them right by the fountain and gazebo of Somniel’s soothing garden, so much that, if anything, Nel considers trimming the brush and petals that are starting to hug the tablet. Not during the dead of early morning night, though. She turns to follow the pathway back to the plaza when almost immediately she is unexpectedly disrupted.
“Little prince,” she huffs. “You catch me unawares. I sure hope you have not been eavesdropping.”
“Not at all, Lady Nel. If anything, you are equally catching me unawares.” Diamant is loitering by the fishing pond, but clearly with no intention of actually fishing. “I did not think anyone else was up at this hour.”
“It would be wise to grow accustomed to the new dragons in your life. Many of us tend to not sleep, at least not in the same amounts as the little ones need.”
“That is news to me,” Diamant laughs lightly. “The one Dragon we happen to all be acquainted with did not seem to get the memo.” He is entirely enraptured by fondness, and it bleeds into Nel’s heart and her slow smile.
“That is true. Your Holy is quite the dozer.”
Nel watches Diamant lose himself in thoughts for a moment. She crosses her arms.
“On the other hand, here’s you, with more of a Dragon’s sleep schedule than anyone else on this island.”
“Is… this the part where you tell me I am not entirely being caught unawares by you at these hours?”
“Hm. Tonight you are. My visit ran longer than usual.” Her gaze is questioning, searching — a gentle interrogation. “What keeps you out here?”
Nel is not naive. She can see the same watchful interrogation in Diamant’s eyes as he turns her question around in his mind. Chalk it up to a military upbringing on war and the culture of nobles — but there it is: that kind gentleness that permeates his features regardless.
“I suppose the same thing that keeps you out here almost every night.”
His response is painfully simple, and to Nel, elaboration wasn’t necessary, but at the same time there was still a small joy in hearing it.
“I come to mourn, and to… think ,” he says with a small smile. To love, is what he may have wanted to say. “I mourn a father who left me with quite a mess to clean. And with the small breaks I am learning to give myself, I give to him — the Divine One. He is the reason I even get what little breaks I have, after all. These small early-owl bubbles, where I get to think — not about work, or responsibilities, or wars and death — I cherish more than I could put into words.”
When Nel remains quiet, his boldness quickly shifts to an expression of someone who is about to ask: Was that the right answer?
There is a window directly to her world currently present, perhaps due to her very presence there right now, where she can see the Diamant she had once grown used to. The ironically imperfect prince of nerves who never fully quite learnt what a strong boon vulnerability could be to him.
Nel laughs gently. It’s sweet.
It’s familiar.
“You love him.”
Something flashes ever-so-quickly in Diamant’s eyes; not in realization of something, per se, but more a deep-rooted insecurity. A fear. It is equally agonizing and unbelievably comforting for Nel to watch and witness.
“You love him,” Nel repeats, much quieter, more to herself this time, as she looks to the wooden boards of the pier they’ve been standing on. She takes it upon herself to confirm it for him, as Diamant appears to be locked up.
“Sometimes, I wonder,” Diamant starts, and it is the quietest and meekest she has ever heard him, even with the version of him from her world. “If that is something I am even allowed to do.”
“Who said otherwise?” Nel retorts immediately, much louder than she had intended.
Diamant doesn’t reply. Nel understands. No one did. No one but the hypotheticals of a shaky, uncertain future did.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learnt, little prince, it is that when you love someone, even when the absolute worst possible outcome you can imagine happens… it never changes anything.”
Diamant had only heard pieces of Nel’s story; had only followed Alear into their alternate world with their allies for a pressing rescue mission for their Divine, followed by a grueling encounter in an empty, fallen Somniel, falling further into a deader world’s deader waters.
But his Alear had told him of the other world’s Alear — told him about seeing his own grave — or, not his, but a version of him. A version of him that had reached out in his slumber. A long-lost twin, Alear had thought he was seeing, up til he understood she was a direct reflection.
And it seemed such a ludicrous thought until you remember what sort of life one has by sticking close to and involving oneself with dragons and emblems and god-like beings.
Nel and her Alear's partnership came as no surprise. A devoted protector tempered by a gentleness that seeped through her very skin and mind. Diamant cannot imagine a universe where Alear isn’t loved in every possible way, and likewise, neither can Nel.
With that, the two share a solidarity they realize they cannot entirely share with many others. The Divine loves fiercely and with no end in sight, it permeates their every action and motivation, and likewise the Divine is loved, adored, worshipped. But it is not the masses the Divine will curl a finger with. It is not the masses the Divine seeks out for more than a conversation.
In the memories of the masses, Alear’s touch would not be as stark of a memory. A handshake, sure, a supportive hand on a shoulder, yes, a clap on the back, a hug, a battlefield grip, of course.
But a quiet lay, a kiss to the temple, a brush of a thumb, a private smile, a laugh upon lips, a devouring that could be questionably holy — Nel and Diamant are sure Alear’s worlds are infinite, but even still, as far as they’re concerned: they’re the only ones.
Diamant found it quite the hilarious joke how so many in Nel’s world found faults in his Alear when comparing him to their own. That he wasn’t as kind? As gentle? As loving? That he was too violent? They were unfathomable observations. He appreciates Nel’s change of conflicting heart and opinion.
He appreciates much about Nel, the more he considers her and her place in Alear’s life.
“Thank you,” he says after a while.
“I should thank you,” she says.
He doesn’t ask her to elaborate.
The pair agree to walk together towards the plaza and towards the back of the café to their respective quarters, but Nel watches him from the corner of her eyes until she looks point-blank, a hint of a glare, as though she is psychically giving him a command. Diamant quirks a brow.
“I would appreciate you not needlessly adding to the Divine One’s worries.” She states, and before Diamant could retort; “The point still stands, that regardless of what gossip may mean to you, you are still a beloved prince, and even moreso, king. Even your people would allow you a rest for your priorities.”
Diamant humbly knows she’s right, but is more curious about her insistence. Even after nodding his understanding, Nel still does not move, as if forcefully blocking him from entering the living quarters. Where else is he supposed to rest if not his — ah.
“I expected this from my retainers but not so much from you,” he huffs, a shy smile forming as he watches his feet.
“While you are my ally, my duty is to the Divine Dragon and his happiness, which just so happens to coincide in great part with your presence. Do not make the same mistake I did and waste any more time.” This time, Nel turns on her heel to walk through to the hallway connecting everyone’s quarters. Diamant does not follow.
•••
Diamant crosses his arms, squeezing against himself as he stares at the doorknob to Alear’s room. He cannot fathom why his confidence has betrayed him in the last possible place it could have ever felt the need to. Even so, he knocks, then burns his palm on the doorknob at the lack of response. A defensive part of him is egging him on about having lost some sort of imaginary battle with Nel, but it is an unnecessary part of him that he fights harder to silence. He thinks of Alcryst and is awash with understanding, how he would have done the absolute same to make sure of his brother’s comfort and joy.
Divine as ever, there he rests upon the altar — a glorified bed, really. The glow of early-morning-night, a rim light around Alear’s silhouette. How gentle and delicate this fierce dragon is capable of being; it is addicting to Diamant. The soothing wash of calm he feels just upon seeing him: addicting. The way he pulls vulnerability out of Diamant like a secret master angler he pretends at not being: addicting.
“Sound asleep,” he whispers, half-kneeling and neatly folding his blazer by the foot of the bed.
He takes a moment to watch Alear’s expression. There is gentle movement behind his eyelids accompanied by the rise and fall of his chest. He’s dreaming. Alive.
“Forgive me, Divine One,” Diamant knocks at Alear’s fingers with his own, “I do not wish to wake you all the way.”
Alear’s dream must have been on the edge of lucidity, as by some miracle his groggy eyes open in an instant before returning to lidded comfort.
“Diamant,” he mutters, shutting his eyes again. “S’it already time?”
“No, no,” Diamant laughs quietly. “You may rest plenty more.”
Alear hums. “T’s been a while since you were on wakeup duty…”
“Well, I am not exactly here for wakeup duty, if that means anything.”
Alear opens his eyes again a little to try and find the normally towering Diamant, only to find him knelt with his arms cushioned by the edge of the bed, fingers brushing with his own.
“Nightmare?”
Diamant shakes his head.
The one other time Diamant had allowed himself the indulgence of Alear’s intimate space was due to one. An unexpected scenario, one he thought himself to be strong enough to power through by himself, and he would have if not for Alear running a late-night errand in the vicinity where he could not help but check in on his partner. Alear insisted on shouldering his fears that night alongside him — it’s what partners do, he said. But what did that really mean? Did Alear see their partnership as something more than what it was? Did Diamant?
Their exchange of rings was kept vague enough, but just how subtle was it? It was unspoken, it seemed, what their partnership entailed. What seemed like a strong bond and oath of protection between friends and allies would teeter on the edge of indulgent comforts and intimacy one would question the intention of. But neither of them felt they needed to question it — they just did. Did what they felt one another needed or wanted, pulled by each other’s shy whims.
And Diamant supposes he can’t blame his retainers’ or friends’ or Nel’s reactions to how the pair of them have behaved. Diamant owes his Divine Dragon some confident clarity.
“Alear, I—,”
“Would you like to rest with me?” Alear and him began at the same time.
Diamant exhales, dropping his head onto Alear’s resting forearm. “Very much so.”
A little more than half-awake, with as big of a sleepy smile as his state would allow him, Alear all but pulls Diamant close, the latter of which who can’t help but laugh softly at the still-tired limbs thinking they were accomplishing anything.
“What’s so funny?” Alear mumbles, latching onto his body more easily now that it presented itself to him, like a very different kind of dragon with its hoard of gold and treasure and gems.
The belts of Diamant’s vest are digging into his side a little, but he’s already at the mercy of Alear’s surprising death grip. Oh well, he smiles into Alear’s crook. He’s sacrificed worse comforts.
“Nothing. This is nice.”
They revel in the silence, the stillness, the closeness, and Diamant is sure Alear has already dozed off again, until;
“I would ask you for wake up duty more often—”
“You should.”
Diamant hopes Alear’s sleepiness camouflages his abrupt neediness. Alear hums.
“T’s’not really wake up duty with you, though…” he trails off.
“No,” Diamant quietly agrees. “It’s not.”
He felt a sweet-tempered press to the top of his head with a hint of a lingering smile, before soon enough his Dragon was seized by his tranquil snores. Perhaps he was overthinking it — Nel, too — and what was unspoken was already deeply understood between them. There would always be time for uttering love, and even if not, it’s like Nel said: it would never change anything. Love was currently being felt in earth-shattering secret quantities. A deeply, deeply addicting amount of it.