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Zenwil watched the Scions quietly, keeping his gaze on Brelton. The hyur had been tense since they had arrived in the snowy north of Garlemald and his fidgeting had been getting worse. At first Zenwil attributed Brelton's fidgeting towards the cold, but something seemed different. Brelton had expressed being cold in Sharlayen as well but after donning warmer clothes on had seemed much better. The others, save Shen’a and A’pollo, hadn’t noticed the man’s growing distress, or if they did they hadn't done anything about it. He strode over to Brelton and gently touched his shoulder.
Brelton looked to his friend who was smiling at him softly. “Zen?”
“Are you okay Brelton?”
The man suddenly looked ready to start sobbing. "I-I'm fine. Really." He rubbed at the jagged scar on the right side of his neck. “It's just a lot of logistical work.”
"You do not sound fine." Zenwil looked over the papers that Brelton had been pouring over. "I don't think any of these can be revised any further. Come let's get some fresh air." Not willing to take no for an answer, Zenwil entwined his fingers through Brelton's, practically dragging the hyur outside. He pulled Brelton to a campfire that had been set up for warmth that was away from any prying ears and eyes. “You’re not fine, Brelton. You’ve been on edge since we got here and it's only getting worse.”
Brelton pulled his hand free from Zenwil’s and wrapped his arms around himself. “It's nothing I can’t handle.” The ambush had been a bit much for him, even though they had seen it coming. It had brought back memories of that day in Coerthas, the incident that few of the Scions knew of. “It’s just memories, nothing that can harm me.”
“Brelton... You know just as well as I do that memories can harm just as harshly as weapons when pushed to the edge.” Zenwil stepped towards him. “You are not pushing me out. Not when you need someone.” He looked at his friend pleadingly. “Please Brel."
Brelton held himself tighter. “Fine. It was before we went to Ishgard after the bloody banquet.”
The viera nodded, he’d heard the stories of the banquet in Ul’dah where the Scions had been branded criminals.
“Ava and I were much closer back then... We were out in Coerthas, looking into some rumors of bandit attacks.” The tears started to burn at the corners of Brelton’s eyes, starting to pace a bit to ease his nerves “We were ambushed... Physically I recovered.” Brelton let out a shaky sigh. “But that ambush earlier...I knew it was coming, we all did...”
Zenwil recalled how Brelton had frozen for a moment before Alisae had spoken to him. The look of terror on the hyur’s face as he was shoved back into the snow by a tempered soldier.
“It reminded me too much of that day. How helpless I felt...”
“Brelton.” Taking a deep breath Zenwil stepped closer to the man who’d slightly moved away during his pacing. "My old oath may not mean much these days, but if it helps..." He fished his old jobstone from his pocket holding it out to Brelton.
He blinked at the old, scuffed Paladin jobstone in the Viera's hand. "You've taken a Paladin's oath? When?"
“It was a long time ago. I keep it as a reminder.” Zenwil cleared his throat. He held the stone to his heart, kneeling before Brelton. “I swear on this stone and on my oath, that I, Zenwil Whitebead, will keep you, Brelton Miller, safe from harm for as long as we remain here in Garlemald.” A small shiver ran down his spine as the stone grew warm for a moment.
Brelton felt choked up again. He sniffled a bit as Zenwil stood, brushing the snow from his pants. “Thank you Zenwil. I-I...” He couldn't help it anymore as his emotions overwhelmed him and threw his arms around the viera's neck.
Zenwil quickly returned the embrace, gently rubbing circles on his back. He gently set his head atop Brelton's as he realized that the man had started silently sobbing, pulling him tightly to his chest. It hurt seeing Brelton like this. It felt like nothing he could say would bring comfort, but Zenwil was a firm believer that actions would speak louder than words. Nerves bubbled up as he tilted Brelton’s head back a bit so he could look at his face. He swiped his thumbs across the hyur’s tear streaked cheeks, gently holding his face.
Brelton swallowed as he stared at Zenwil, whose face was a little hard to read. He was embarrassed about his sudden onslaught of emotions, he feared being a burden on the viera as well. All of his racing thoughts ceased as he felt Zenwil’s lips press firmly to his own and suddenly he didn’t know what to do with his hands or anything. He hadn’t felt butterflies like this in years, a small whimper of pleasure slipping from him as his lips parted slightly.
Zenwil bit back a groan at the sound of Brelton’s whimper. The man’s lips were warm and inviting, the smell of the coffee he’d had earlier in the morning was still tangled in his hair. He slowly broke the kiss, gently running his thumb across Brelton’s cheek. “Amazing.”
Brelton blushed and returned to hiding his face against Zenwil’s chest, the viera chuckling as Brelton nuzzled into the fabric of his sweater. “Not a word to anyone.”
“Of course.” After a few moments, Zenwil noticed, as he returned to resting his chin on Brelton’s head, Shen’a watching from the corner of a nearby building.
The miqo’te smirked with a sly, knowing wink, placing a finger to his lips. Brelton didn’t need to know that the two of them had been caught, at least not yet.