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In retrospect, it had been a horrid idea. Entirely un-princely, foolish, a decision that could have resulted in nothing good.
Indeed it hadn't, as Alain was currently face-down in a snowdrift, steadily being covered by the powdery white flakes of the storm, grinning despite himself at the situation he was in because he could hear the sound of Gilbert's light and airy laughter behind him as he was slowly buried alive.
Every part of Bastorias was covered in thick snow as far as the eye could see, a new experience for both of the princes, and so after a long day of marching, Alain had pulled on the coat Yunifi had insisted he wear, convinced Gilbert to don his as well, and then pulled him out into the frosty afternoon. He had simply expected an uneventful but peaceful walk with his lover. They both needed it after the hardships of the past months, after all.
But Alain had thought of something he had heard Dinah and Ramona discussing the day before. The former had complained that her subordinates were acting like children, and when the owl bestral had inquired further, Dinah had sighed and regaled to her friend the tale of two soldiers who would stuff snow down each other's armor, like idiots. I can't believe them .
Now, Alain was a prince. Not just a prince, but the commander of an army. Therefore, he did not consider himself to be childish, nor prone to bouts of impulsivity, but the idea settled into his mind as a plant's roots did to the earth, and he bit back a smile as he surreptitiously reached down for a handful of snow.
As quick as he could, he pulled back Gilbert's coat and dropped the handful of snow down.
Gilbert's eyes went as wide as saucers and he shrieked, identical to an owl, save for the fact that it had been twice as loud. Alain was abruptly reminded of two things: his lover was adorable , and the king of Drakenhold, a desert country, despised the cold more than anything.
He didn't have much time to regret his decision before the smaller man shoved him away on reflex, sending Alain stumbling over his own feet before he plummeted down into the snowdrift he had taken the snow from in the first place.
Back in the present, Gilbert was laughing at his expense, and the only thing Alain could think was, I deserve this.
“What in Fevrith could you possibly have been thinking, Alain?” Gilbert managed between bouts of laughter. “You surely knew I would have reacted the way I did!”
Alain groaned and rolled over, trying to pull himself upright but only succeeding in sinking further into the drift. But now, he could fully appreciate the sight before him.
Snowflakes peppered both the top of Gilbert's golden hair and his long eyelashes, glittering like jewels. His eyes were alight, vibrant and vivid as the sky, the usual furrow in his brow gone without a trace. His grin nearly stretched to both his ears. Alain smiled. He always looked so beautiful when he was laughing, a sight rarer than Alain would have preferred.
“I must admit that I wasn't thinking much at all. My sincerest apologies for startling you.” He would have bowed, but he was still waist-deep in snow, the chill beginning to creep into him. “Ah…may I ask for your assistance, Gilbert? It appears I am trapped here.”
Shaking his head fondly, Gilbert offered his hand, which Alain quickly took, grateful for the slight warmth it provided through two layers of gloves as he was hauled out.
Alain forked his fingers through his hair to remove the snow, shaking his sleeves off as well, lamenting at how much had melted onto him already. Regardless, he smiled at Gilbert, lacing their fingers together.
“Thank you, my dear.”
His frost-nipped ears turned ever so slightly darker from the endearment, and he looked away, gaze trained on the way they had come from.
“You're welcome.” He mumbled. “Do not feel the need to apologize, either. I cannot say that was a pleasant experience but…you provided me with quite the laugh, Alain. I must thank you for that.”
Suddenly, Gilbert stiffened, eyes going wide with surprise, and Alain reached for the sword on his hip, but Gilbert swatted his hand away, then turned to him with an amused twitch of his lips. “I don't mean to alarm you, Alain, but it seems we've alarmed your cousin.”
Sure enough, when Alain looked in the direction of the camp, he saw Virginia and Aramis rushing towards them, his cousin's sword already drawn. He sighed, dreading the lecture she was about to give them both, and based on Gilbert's grimace, he felt the same.
Virginia skidded to a stop, eyes darting around to pinpoint the threat, slowly dropping her fighting stance as she realized that neither Alain nor Gilbert was in danger. Scowling, she put her hands on her hips and glared at each of them in turn.
“Care to explain to me what exactly happened here?” She demanded.
Aramis stepped up beside her, letting out one of his usual sighs. He raised an eyebrow at Gilbert, who in turn glanced at Alain expectantly.
“‘Tis quite simple.” He nodded at the snowbank he'd fallen into. “Indulging a flight of fancy brought about by a comment I'd overheard from the bestrals, I decided to drop a snowball into Gilbert's coat. I hadn't anticipated that he would screech with the force of a thousand perturbed Cornian weasels.” The man in question flushed in mortification, covering his face with his hands. Aramis huffed out a laugh, and Virginia snorted. “In retribution,” Alain continued, “He ensured I suffered the same snowy fate as him. I apologize that I caused you to run to our aid, especially in weather such as this.” Freed from his freezing bonds, this time he did bow.
“Oh, stop that, Alain.” Virginia flicked the top of his head, and he straightened again, rubbing the spot with a small frown. “It's truly not an issue. Though, I shouldn't have been surprised that you two would get up to something like this.”
Gilbert crossed his arms, meeting eyes for a moment with his brother, who was now smiling in full, before facing Virginia again. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?” He asked, slightly indignant.
She just laughed, waving her hand in dismissal. “It's none of your concern. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have plans that were interrupted by your tomfoolery.” Likely off to her sparring sessions with Leah or Miriam, she turned on her heel and strode back to the camp. “Don’t stay out too late, either. I can’t trust either of you.” She called back over her shoulder, visibly grinning,
Aramis chuckled, and put a hand on his hip. “I did say he would be the death of you, didn't I, Gilbert?”
Alain blushed, having been no part of any such correspondence, and Gilbert huffed. “Say what you will, brother. But I'm afraid that Alain is here with me to stay.” Both of their flushes deepened at that declaration, and Alain squeezed Gilbert's hand ever so slightly tighter in agreement.
“I swear to all the gods.” Aramis pinched the bridge of his nose with exasperation Alain could tell was false. “There's nothing I can do, is there?” Alain shook his head with a smile, and Aramis rolled his eyes. “Well then. I shouldn't leave Virginia unaccompanied.”
He strode away as well, and after a few moments, Alain was alone with Gilbert again.
“Here to stay, hm?” Alain cocked his head at the shorter prince, who met his teasing gaze with a determined one of his own.
“Of course.” Gilbert took a step closer, and with it, all the cold Alain had been feeling flooded away, replaced with a flush and the rapid pounding of his heart. “As long as you are willing,” he murmured, placing a hand on Alain's shoulder and cupping the other around the back of his head, pulling him down until they were at eye level. His hands were so warm, and Alain shivered for reasons entirely separated from the weather.
“I'll be willing as long as you want me.” He whispered, then, with trembling hands, cupped his beloved Gilbert's face and pulled him into a gentle kiss.
It lasted long enough for both of them to be breathless and flushed red when Gilbert let go, stepping back and brushing a few stray hairs out of his face. “Thank you.” He gave Alain a half smile and reached out to guide him back, where they'd sit together by the fire until the chill left them again.
Alain took his hand, and as they walked back through the softly falling snow, he turned to the man who made his heart swell with more fondness than he knew what to do with, and said plainly, “I love you, Gilbert.”
The prince stopped, took a deep breath, and meeting Alain's eyes, he replied with a slightly uneven voice, “I love you as well, Alain.”
He resumed walking, but now, he pressed himself to Alain's side until their shoulders touched.
If any blessing could have come from Galerius's vile conquest of Fevrith, it was this, the man who walked by Alain's side, promising to stay there forever, and Alain's promise to do the same.