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It was almost kind of fucked up, how even in their present situation, a war brewing in the air and the responsibility of everything heavy on their shoulders, Ashton had to bite the inside of his cheek in order to stop smiling. He’d woken up with his face burrowed into seafoam curls, limbs so entangled with Fearne’s that he had no idea where they began and she ended. The sun was already high in the sky, and some of their party were already getting ready for the day, a buzz of chatting in the background. They allowed themselves exactly one minute to slowly brush their titan hand through her hair, to observe the beautiful smile that bloomed on her face as she woke up and faced him, eyes sleepy and so fucking adorable it almost hurt.
They did not have time to talk about it, about anything really - but for a second their cocoon made of blankets and warmth remained, and he got to stare at her in disbelief. It all got interrupted by Imogen mage-handing the blanket away, ushering them to hurry up before they were even more late than they already were. Fearne greeted everyone so enthusiastically, so full of glee, he chose to believe it was because of him and nothing else, no matter how misguided that might have been. They weren’t planning on kissing her last night, not exactly. As nervous as it made him, he’d decided they'd try and talk to her about what he felt, what he’d been feeling for ages now and just suppressing and burying under rage, under insecurity, under the threat of the gods and mages looming over them.
He meant to say it in Aeor, but the universe kept fucking with him at every chance. And then Teven appeared, intimidating and claiming he and Fearne were bound, and then they found Braius, who’s eyes sparkled the second they laid on her. Ashton found himself feeling jealous, stewing in a sort of insecure rage unlike the one he was used to, and as much as he was also drawn to Braius, seeing him flirt with her at every chance, seeing her little smirk directed at him - Ashton wanted to smash his hammer into a wall. With every day Ashton felt like that door had closed, if it ever had been open. That he’d been too blind, too self centred, too preoccupied with his own bullshit. So when they’d played spin the bottle, giving in to Fearne’s wide eyed request, and he got to watch Chetney get to kiss her, Braius jumping at every chance to do the same (and thankfully failing), Ashton felt like they needed to say something to her, anything, before he’d explode. They knew it could all end up disastrously, but he was willing to take any reaction from her, as long as she’d listen.So he asked her to talk in the corner of their shared room.
And then.Well.
She stared at him with that look - the mischief mixed with nervousness, her little ‘Hi’ back, the pink curve of her mouth, the expectant glimmer in her eyes. His hands moved on their own accord, moving the bottle between them to point at her, and then tangling in her hair to close the distance between them. Right before their lips met, he could hear her let out a little surprised gasp, going right to his heart.
A second of stillness, two, their stomach lurching, and then they could feel her move, kissing him back with the same amount of fervor - there was not enough pain in their body to distract them anymore, just Fearne, her flowery scent, the smile he could feel against his lips, her hands snaking around his waist to bring them even closer. And then, not being able to help himself, his hands found their way to her pouch, fishing out the first thing he could find. For a second, they broke apart. His eyes were searching her face, silently asking if this was ok, if she wanted it too. He was met with the most wonderful expression of pure awe - they almost wanted to laugh at how surprised she looked, like she could not see how in love they were with her, and had been for a while now.
“Here, I got you this, I thought you’d like it.”
Ashton smirked, handing her the little silver spoon. She gushed at it, rambling happily about how much this reminded of something of her’s, while Ashton simply smiled at her, struggling not to grin like an idiot. He kissed her again, no warning, the need too strong now that he properly knew what it felt like, afraid he would never get over it. They could feel the blanket shielding them fall over, Braius’ frustrated huff and Imogen’s amused remark, but they couldn’t care less. They were finally kissing her, after all the nights they’d fallen asleep with this exact image in their head.
The next day almost passed entirely before they even had a second to breathe, to catch her hand and look her in the eye. She’d been resplendent in all their war meetings and councils, and he now found it hard to pretend he wasn’t downright staring at her most chances he got. Sometimes their eyes would meet across a room, and she’d smile shyly at him, so unlike her confident self, and his heart would stop entirely, delirious at the thought that maybe this was something just for them - a shyness they brought about. When the plotting was finally done, they decided they would spend one more night in the city before heading out. The Hells slowly trudged back to the Birch Heart, a nervous energy in the atmosphere, all of them preparing for their confrontation with Ludinus - like a finality had settled over them, an acceptance of what was to come. So they gently grabbed their wrist before they finished entering the tree, a nervous tinge to his voice.
‘Fearne. Can we talk?’
Her eyes first fell to their hands, and then landed back on his, giving him a small nod. The moonlight fell on her in a way that made her look almost celestial, and so beautiful Ashton was afraid he’d fail to be coherent. The rest of the group ignored them, but Braius stalled a few steps, his voice low in the wintery air.
‘Is everything ok? Fearne?’
For a brief second, Ashton wondered if they could take the bard in a fight. Without breaking their eye contact, Fearne waved her hand, dismissing him.
‘Yeah, we’ll be right back.’
And damn if that didn’t feel amazing, in a fucked up kind of way.
‘What did you want to talk about?’
Fearne was studying them now, expectantly. Like his world hadn’t been turned around, yet again, just in the last few hours. They cleared their throat, trying to sound sure, willing his voice not to break.
‘Last night, I - I don’t know what it meant to you, if anything, but for me - it wasn’t me wanting to participate in a game, or relieve some tension, or anything like that.’
Her worried expression turned soft, almost relieved - the way she had been biting her lower lip nervously was terribly distracting, but Ashton willed himself to not give up what he’d started.
‘No?’
Fearne’s voice was shy, and small. His hand found hers again, slowly interlocking their fingers - like every time they did this, that fiery spark inside her recognized his own, and a sense of calm, and right enveloped them.
‘I know you are - how did you put it, ‘bound to many’. I wouldn’t dream of getting you to myself, or claiming anything from you, but I needed you to know it meant something to me. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, but I was too afraid, of all things.’
Fearne moved closer, slowly, until their bodies were almost completely touching. His hand came to gently cup her cheek, mirroring hers, and her thumb gently rested on his lower lip, hypnotizing him along with that fiery spark visible in the now almost pitch black of the night. He felt like he’d break apart if he didn’t kiss her again, and then again, if he didn’t keep this one good thing in his painful existence. His throat went dry at the anticipation of it, at the sound of her whispered voice, her whole attention trained on them.
‘Afraid of what, Ash?’
‘Afraid of how much I wanted you for myself. Of how none of it felt casual, or easy to me. Sleeping with you in my arms. Stealing things from each other. Finding your eyes from across a tavern. Knowing I had no right, especially with how bad I hurt you before, but secretly wishing you’d be mine.’
Softly, her lips found his, just a brief touch that still managed to make him dizzy. He could barely make out her expression in the dark, but he recognized the little mischievous smile that he’d grown so fond of. He had no idea what it meant, but he was willing to stay there all night if that meant she’d kiss them again, just the two of them, enveloped by the sound of the cicadas and the wind rustling in the branches above.
‘ You want me to be yours?’
Fearne’s voice was now low, a velvety whisper in the wind, her lips moving close enough to their ear that he felt a shiver shock his entire body, a surge of desire making his grip on her waist tighter. To Ashton, it felt like the most honest, most evident thing in the world.
‘Yea- yes. Yes.’
‘Then say please.’
He could barely get the words out - he felt like he would have gotten on his knees right there if she’d asked, would do anything really, when her lips were barely touching the side of his neck, her thumb still trailing their lower lip. It felt like torture, not kissing her, but not like the pain he’d known all his life. This was all Fearne, sharp edges and soft smiles, mischief and awe. They cleared their throat, the words barely a whisper, whimpering and almost pathetically filled with want.
‘Please, Fearne. Please.’
She drew back to look at him, his eyes trained on her lips, pupils blown out and voice shaking. And then she smiled - a smile worth ruining everything for, worth begging and stealing for. A fire ignited in his chest - they wanted her more than anything, more than answers and messages from gods, more than peace.
‘Okay. But you have to be mine, too. I get to keep you.’
They nodded, dumbfounded, drunk on her voice, drunk on the possibility that opened like a miracle in front of them, the one true miracle he’d experienced since finding his new family. Frantic, he kissed her cheek, the side of her neck, her temple, allowing himself to smile, obnoxiously pleased with himself when she shivered under his lips, her sharp nails digging into his skin, marking him.
‘You already have me, Fearne.’
When they finally kissed again, her cheeks felt wet with tears. She tasted sweet, familiar and new, like something he did not deserve, but like she was his, like in all those dreams they had. It felt like hours passed before they broke apart from each other, before he forgot what the world around felt like without kissing her. Her lips were bitten red, curls messy and disheveled, and he loved that it was his doing, that everyone else could see it, too. Like children, they giggled at each other when they came up for air - finally, Ashton interlocked their hands and lead her inside, too drunk on her to care what the others would think.