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Bormic scratched the back of his neck cautiously, a bead of sweat hitting his fingers and a few others dripping into his beard. The sun was out and almost boiling him, but that was only half the matter. The other was that he was going to present Ralof with a gift of poetry for Heart’s Day. Maybe he had some good sense in him and ran off, He thought, but then I’d still have to present it to him eventually. Or, I could always just throw the poetry away and say something like ‘I love you’. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and looked down at the sheet of paper.
You are mine. And I am yours.
Together, we will rule our world.
No matter the odds we face,
No matter what lies ahead,
We will always be together.
You are mine. And I am yours.
It probably wasn’t as bad as Bormic’s mind was making it seem, but his brain overwhelmed him with what would happen when Raof read it, if he didn’t like it and the consequences of what would happen after. He gulped and drew in a deep breath from the chilly air of Windhelm. It helped a little.
He walked until he stood in front of his house, Hjerim. He looked at it with both pride and fear. The house stood indifferent to its owner’s feelings. He stared at the door for the longest time, going over what he would say to his beloved countless times in his head until he felt he had finally perfected it. Or, maybe he didn’t have it perfected. He cursed and shook his head fiercely, letting his heart decide rather than his brain. It pulsed like the beat of the war drums he had heard during the forced march to Whiterun. His hands sweat and he looked down and saw the edges of the paper already damp. He cursed again.
With a hesitant hand he opened the door to his house and peered in. The room was set up with lavish food that was still steaming, with a wonderful amount of different aromas melding beautifully together. One thing stuck out entirely, though; the alluring smell of fresh-baked garlic bread. His mouth watered and his thoughts from before melted away. He walked inside and strode over to the table of wonderful foods. Since they had gotten married, Ralof made it his goal to make sure his food was good, and so far he has been doing an exceedingly well job at it. How Bormic could live off dried and salted pork, stale bread and hard cheese in the past was something he could never fully understand.
He looked into the kitchen and saw Ralof working on what looked to be stew. It also seemed quite new as Ralof had just started putting potatoes and carrots into the mix. Cabbage and venison went next, followed by leek and various herbs. Bormic inched his way closer to the kitchen. The only sounds Ralof made was the slight creaking as he moved across the floorboards, the chops he made for the food and his footfalls. Bormic watched his lover for a little bit, noticing how Ralof just did the motions that were so practiced, it was like he was a warrior of the kitchen. Bormic settled on the fact that Ralof actually was a warrior of the kitchen.
Bormic drew in a breath quietly, so that his lover didn’t hear him and spoke in a tone quieter than what he was expecting. “Got any more garlic bread?”
If Ralof was startled, he showed it in only the smallest of jerking motions before he continued on with his day. It was a blessing both the warriors had, where if they were startled in any way, it only took them an extremely short amount of time to determine if it was a threat or not. Ralof nodded a second after. “They’re over near the oven.”
Bormic went over and peered at tray with the three halves of garlic bread on it. It smelled positively divine, like something Talos would eat for an appetizer. He noticed that only three of them were on the tray, instead of the four there was every other time. “Where’s the fourth?”
Ralof turned and looked at Bormic and frowned sadly. “We had a casualty this time.”
Bormic nodded sadly. Sometimes, you just couldn’t save them all… “I understand. May it never reach Talos’ dinner table.”
Ralof couldn’t help but smile and chuckle a little, which got Bormic to do the same. It seemed that Bormic’s mood couldn’t be extinguished unless the entire Sea of Ghosts was dumped onto it. Or sense of humour, for that matter.
Bormic clenched the parchment in his hand a little tighter, gulping, and walked back to Ralof, wrapping him in a warm hug and kissing him passionately. Ralof returned the kiss and wrapped his hands around Bormic’s waist while his lover mimicked his actions. When they separated, Bormic handed the parchment over and took in a deep breath. “Wrote some poetry for you for Heart’s Day. Have a read and tell me what you think, while I go and enjoy your own gift.”
Ralof nodded once with pursed lips and began reading the poetry Bormic had provided. Bormic meanwhile, settled on stuffing his face with as much of the food from Aetherius itself as he could. Food that tasted that good just had to be made of magic.
Bormic turned once he had devoured only half of one piece of garlic bread and saw Ralof standing there with watery eyes, and he knew it wasn’t from the onions. His lover’s face was red and he clutched the parchment like it was the only thing that kept his emotions with him. “It’s… It’s beautiful, Bormic.”
“Truly?” Bormic was a little taken aback by the compliment. He personally thought he could do better if given a month to think about it. “You don’t want something more?”
Ralof grinned despite the other emotions gripping him. “Well, I never said that …” he paused for a moment, thinking. “There’s always tonight if you’re willing to do something a little more.”
The suggestion was enough to keep Bormic away from the garlic bread, for now at least. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot, actually.”
He moved back to his lover and hugged him tightly before kissing him several times, each one more loving than the last. “You are mine, and I am yours. I love you, Ralof.”
“And I love you, Bormic. From now until the world stands still.” Ralof said in a muted tone.
“So, for eternity?” Bormic asked in the same volume.
“Yes;” Ralof whispered, “for eternity.”