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It was a balmy Idlesday afternoon and the party was going on day four of bumming around Grand Trad while Will saw to his various errands about town.

With Hulkenberg and Heismay out on some knightly errand or other and Junah off visiting her sister, Strohl had been left to his own devices. Again. He’d never been one to sit idle while there was work to be done, but Will took off directly after breakfast, politely refusing Strohl’s offer to accompany him shopping. Something about needing to finish chatting with the local Mustari.

“I’ll be out late helping Brigitta with an errand, don’t wait up!” he’d said on his way out the Honeybee front door.

Strohl offered a brief wave and managed to get out half of a “have a nice day, hope to see you tonight” before Will was out the door and on the move once more. That was an improvement over yesterday, he noted. The day before, Will had parted before Strohl could even say goodbye. 

Pushing the remnants of his breakfast around with his spoon, Strohl sighed and contemplated what to do with the rest of his free day. He had already visited with the local contingent of Halians a few days prior, and had finished all of his personal errands with plenty of time to spare. Fundamentally, he understood the importance of Will’s dedication to his followers – a good candidate needed to be a man of the people, of course – but Strohl’s already limited patience was wearing thin after too many days inactive. 

“Strohl, are you going to finish your breakfast or just play with it?” Fabienne asked from behind the bar, shaking him from his thoughts.

“Apologies, Miss Fabienne,” Strohl said, clearing his throat. Usually Fabienne’s spectacular cooking made him quick to clean his plate, but his appetite had dwindled a bit the last couple days. 

“If you’ve finished eating, be a dear and help me with the washing up, will you?” 

“Of course,” he responded, returning to the kitchen with haste. Fabienne smiled sweetly at him as he rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

“Lonely, are we?” Fabienne asked, smirking. 

“Oh no, nothing like that,” Strohl replied, turning to busy himself with the dishes to hide the growing flush on his cheeks. “Just considering what to do with this unexpected free time.”

“Of course,” Fabienne replied, choosing to take mercy on him, he supposed. “Well, if you’ve a wealth of free time, I’d be endlessly grateful if you’d take Maria out on the town for a bit this afternoon. I promised her I’d take her to the shops for the Idlesday sales today, but the breakfast rush shows no signs of stopping and I can’t bear to let her down again.”

“Are you quite certain? I’d be more than happy to watch over the Honeybee while you spend time with Maria. I wouldn’t want to disappoint her if she was expecting an afternoon with you.”

“Oh nonsense, the girl adores you. I’m sure she’d be thrilled at the prospect of having a shopping day with her dear Uncle Leon.”

“Uncle…Leon?” Strohl stammered, the flush from earlier returning to his cheeks with a mighty vengeance.

“Is it alright for her to call you Uncle? She came up with it the other day and I thought it was the most precious thing I’d ever heard.”

“Not a problem,” Strohl replied, vigorously towelling off a plate. “I’m honoured, in all honesty.”

“Good, because once she gets on a nickname there’s no stopping her,” Fabienne smiled. Strohl chuckled, recalling the dozen or so times Will had insisted Maria call him by his first name, but she always defaulted to “Mister” in the end. 

“You’ve dried more than enough plates, dear,” Fabienne added, when Strohl belatedly realised he had been rubbing circles into the same dish for an altogether too long time. Clearing his throat, Strohl replied with a quick nod as he returned the clean dish to its home on the shelf.

“Maria’s up in her room, I already let her know to expect you after breakfast.”

“But I thought you were–” Strohl stuttered, “I mean, how did you know that I would–”

“Lucky guess,” Fabienne smirked. 

Thoroughly embarrassed by his transparency, Strohl managed a last quick nod before taking the stairs two steps at a time up to Maria’s room.

“I’m so happy you’re here, Uncle Leon!” Maria grinned, gripping Strohl’s arm like a vise as she flitted through the Idlesday shopping crowds on Sunlumeo Street. Strohl wondered if she inherited her strength from Grius.

“Ooh, this one!” Maria said, tugging Strohl into place at her side. She pointed to a storefront window showcasing various accessories and ribbons. “Miss Fabienne gave me an a–llow-wance for helping in the kitchen this week and she said I could get whatever I wanted!”

Maria beamed up at the mannequin head donning a metallic hair ribbon, inset with two little crystals near the temples. To Strohl, it looked remarkably like–

“If I get this one I’ll match Mister!” Maria giggled. “Do you think that will make him smile?”

“Definitely,” Strohl smiled back at her.

At the counter, the shopkeep retrieved Maria’s chosen ribbon for her inspection. She took it in hand with great care, then looked shyly up to Strohl.

“Um,” she started, playing with the ribbon between her fingers, “would you mind helping me tie it? Usually Miss Fabienne does it so I don’t know how.”

“Of course, Maria,” Strohl responded without hesitation, “though I must admit I’ve never tied a hair ribbon before. I can’t promise it will look as nice as the way Miss Fabienne does it.”

“That’s okay!” she said, all traces of past shyness gone. Fumbling with the ribbon, Strohl made a valiant attempt at tying a bow beneath Maria’s hair.

“Will that suffice?” he asked, hesitant. Maria stood on her tiptoes to check her reflection in the mirror on the counter.

“It’s perfect!” Maria grinned, bouncing on her toes. “It looks just like Mister’s, right?”

“Right,” Strohl smiled back at her. Maria beamed and reached for her purse.

“Save your allowance, Maria, I’m happy to get this for you.”

“But I want to get it with my a-llow-wance from Miss Fabienne! That’ll make it even specialer!”

“More special,” Strohl corrected.

“Right! Even more specialer!” 

Ignoring Strohl, Maria placed her pocket change on the counter.

The shopkeep chuckled, sharing a knowing glance with Strohl. As she collected Maria’s money, she reached below the counter, retrieving a second identical ribbon. 

“Buy one get one free. Idlesday special,” she smiled at Strohl. “Can’t hurt to have a backup for your daughter, or perhaps you can give this one to your wife.”

“Oh she’s not my–” Strohl started, stopping slack jawed when the wife portion of that sentence sunk in.

“He’s not my Papa, he’s my uncle!” Maria added, helpfully. “Right, Uncle Leon?”

“Right,” Strohl stammered, nodding thankfully to the shopkeep as he pocketed the second ribbon.

“Thank you, Miss!” Maria beamed at the shopkeep as she dragged a stunned-silent Strohl back to the streets.

Humming an upbeat tune, Maria skipped down the cobblestone street sporting her shiny new ribbon, beloved uncle in tow.

“Do you have a wife, Uncle Leon?” she asked. And just when Strohl had thought he had escaped the awkwardness from the shop…

“I do not,” he replied, trying his damndest not to show how much this subject in particular flustered him.

“Why not?” asked Maria, innocent as could be.

“Well, I’m still quite young, all things considered,” Strohl responded, “and I’ve got other more important priorities at the moment–”

“Is there someone you want to marry, Uncle Leon?”

“Uh, I suppose I hadn’t really given it much thought,” Strohl replied, scratching the hairs at the back of his neck in a vain attempt to find something to do with his hands.

“What about Mister?” Maria asked.

“Oh, Will isn’t married either–”

“No, I meant would you want to marry Mister?”

Strohl blanched, promptly choking on air. Despite his ever-strategic mind, he couldn’t begin to guess where this course of thought was going to lead him. Well. Perhaps he had an inkling, somewhere in the back of his mind, but responsible Strohl at the vanguard struck that theory down before it had further chance to grow roots.

“What…would make you think that?” he coughed.

“Sometimes you and Mister remind me of Papa and Mama,” Maria smiled.

In his near catatonic state, Strohl managed, somehow, to utter a strangled, “how so?” 

“I don’t remember a lot about Mama but Papa always said she was kind, gentle, and beautiful. That’s just like Mister, don’t you think?”

“I…suppose he is,” Strohl mused. He’d never stopped to catalogue all the traits that could describe Will, and though “kind, gentle, and beautiful” felt like a vast oversimplification, he couldn’t find an argument to disagree with any of the three. Even the last one, much to his chagrin.

Ignorant to Strohl’s compounding inner turmoil, Maria continued unfazed.

“I thought that if I had to get married I would want it to be to someone like Mister. Wouldn’t you?” 

At one point in his young life, the subject of his potential future marriage was a near constant conversation in Strohl’s household. Which noble’s daughter would be marriageable material? What match could best keep the noble House Haliaetus in good standing with the crown? Whispers of potential engagements stalked him wherever he went, and though it was never of particular interest to Strohl, he had grown accustomed to it.

In the last seven years, however, Strohl had not once entertained the idea of marriage, much less a relationship of any sort. On that fateful night on the outskirts of the smoldering pile of rubble that had only that morning been called Halia, Leon Strohl vowed to seek justice. He would pursue this goal single-mindedly, or die trying. Anything less would be an insult to his parents’ memory. Anything as frivolous as a taking a noble bride was stricken from his mind.

But then he met Will, awoke to his archetype, and was born anew, reforged in the shape of his beloved captain’s steadfast protector.

“Well?” Maria questioned, stars in her eyes as she waited ever so patiently for a response.

Strohl hesitated for a moment more, though he understood now the veracity of his answer, down to his very core.

“I suppose…” he began, “if I were to marry, I would settle for no less.”

Maria grinned and clapped. Strohl was happy to see his response must’ve been what she was searching for.

“A question for you, Maria,” Strohl asked.

“Yes Uncle Leon?”

“If Will reminds you of your mother, how exactly is it that I remind you of Grius?”

Maria stopped to consider for a moment, then smiled brightly.

“You and Papa are both tall! And you have the same hair color.”

So much for that comparison. And here he thought Maria might wax poetic about their shared bravery and unwavering sense of duty. Ah, well.

“I like to think my hair has more of a silver glow…much more youthful than your father’s white, wouldn’t you agree?”

Maria shrugged. Strohl supposed such nuance was lost on a child her age.

After making a couple more stops in town to pick up a few odds and ends for Fabienne, Strohl and Maria returned to the Honeybee for a grocery delivery. As they crossed the threshold, they were surprised to see an unexpected presence helping out at the bar.

“Mister! You’re home early!” Maria cheered, abandoning Strohl by the door to rush Will at full speed.

Will’s gentle laughter rang through the air, punctuated by a soft grunt as Maria collided with him in a bear hug.

“Good to see you too, Maria,” he smiled. “And you as well,” he added, looking up to Strohl, who smiled warmly as he placed the groceries on the counter.

Fabienne nodded in appreciation as she began unpacking the bags. 

“Did you have a nice afternoon, Maria?” she asked as she continued to busy herself about the kitchen.

“Yes! Uncle Leon took me shopping!” Maria beamed.

“Uncle Leon?” Will smirked, as Strohl ran his fingers through his hair in embarrassment.

“If he’s Uncle Leon how come I can’t be Uncle Will?”

“Because you’re already Mister, Mister!” Maria proclaimed.

“Ah of course, that makes perfect sense,” Will agreed, unable to argue with her ironclad logic.

“Ooh Mister I almost forgot! Look!” she said, jumping up and down, gesturing to her new headband. 

“Wow! It looks just like mine,” Will exclaimed in delight.

“Surprise!” shouted Maria, grinning ear to ear. “Do you like it, Mister?”

“It’s perfect, Maria,” Will smiled.

“I’m so happy!” Maria smiled back. Before she could continue on about her day, however, her eyes lit up in recognition.

“Wait Uncle Leon, where’s yours?” she asked, confusion twisting her face.

“My what?” Strohl replied, genuinely at a loss.

“Your ribbon! The extra one from the shop!”

“Oh, right,” Strohl remembered. “Here you are, Maria,” he said, motioning to place the ribbon in Maria’s hands.

“No not for me, Uncle Leon! You need to match too!” she exclaimed.

“Oh! I, ah, hardly think that’s necessary,” Strohl stammered, “and besides you should keep hold of this one in case something happens to yours.”

“Please, Uncle Leon?” Maria pleaded, staring up at Strohl with the biggest puppy dog eyes he had ever seen. He felt any remaining protest die at the back of his throat.

“Ah, well, I would but I’m not sure I’d be able to tie it myself–”

“Let me help,” Will interrupted, stepping one pace too close into Strohl’s personal space for his level of comfort.

“Right. Well, if you insist,” Strohl said, gingerly placing the ribbon in Will’s open hand.

Will took another step forward, the distance between them reduced to a memory of the moment before. Cautiously, he reached up towards Strohl’s head, arms outstretched.

Strohl suppressed a shudder as warm fingers wove through his hair, pausing near his temples to adjust the ribbon’s placement. Will gently brushed a lock of Strohl’s hair off his forehead and looked up at him with a small smile. 

The intensity of Will’s full attention was something Strohl still wasn’t quite sure what to do with. In equal parts, he yearned for it and was desperate to be as far away from it as possible. At this distance, he couldn’t decide whether to focus on Will’s blue eye or the gold one. Gazing into either, or both, for too long was something Strohl had forbidden himself from doing ages ago.

“Um, Strohl, would you mind leaning down a little bit?”

Strohl broke from his reverie to realise Will was straining to reach around to tie the ribbon while Strohl was at his full height.

“Ah, of course,” Strohl mumbled, leaning down, the infinitesimal gap between them somehow shrinking even more. This close, Strohl could feel the puff of Will’s every exhale on his skin, the warmth of his slight frame radiating through his chest. 

In his mind, Strohl recited a silent prayer to any god that may be listening, Sanctist, pagan or otherwise, that he might survive this moment with his dignity intact, that his racing heartbeat go unnoticed.

“There,” Will said, resting his hands on Strohl’s broad shoulders, ribbon secured in place.

“Thank you,” Strohl whispered, unsure of what to do pinned beneath the weight of Will’s steady grasp. Out of the corner of his eye, he recognised a knowing smile from Fabienne behind the bar.

“How’s that, Maria?” Will smiled once more, taking a brief moment to smooth Strohl’s ribbon in place before removing his hands for the final time.

Strohl wondered how Will maintained composure through it all, from fights to politics, and even this, too. Perhaps he flattered himself, thinking he would have even a fraction of the same effect on his captain that his captain had on him. Yet another way he paled in comparison to his dearest friend. Moving forward, Strohl would have to work harder to keep his cool. He couldn’t let personal feelings get in the way, he would have to buckle down and—

“Mister, when are you and Uncle Leon getting married?” Maria asked.

At once, three things happened: Fabienne let out the sharpest cackle Strohl had ever heard, Will’s famously unshakeable composure vanished in an instant, and the color drained from his face just as burning heat shot straight up to Strohl’s cheeks.

Maria, however, noticed none of this. Fabienne poured a drink. Will tugged on the collar of his turtleneck. Strohl stared blankly forward into nothingness, head empty as his entire world caved in and rebuilt itself anew.

“Did I do something wrong?” Maria asked, picking up on the silence, if not the tension.

“Of course not, Maria,” Will said, at a volume perhaps a hair louder than usual. “Your question just caught us off guard, is all.”

“Huh?” Maria questioned, confusion plain on her face. “But Uncle Leon and I were talking about it earlier and—“

“Maria,” Strohl interjected, with the force and swiftness of a thousand armoured cavaliers, “didn’t you want to go to the cathedral today? The sun’s getting low, so we should probably set out soon so we can make it back before dinner.”

“Oh right, let’s go!” declared Maria, sprinting out the door, previous line of questioning forgotten at the mentions of cathedral and dinner. Forever grateful for the attention span of a child, Strohl made for the exit, hoping to extricate himself from this situation as soon as feasibly possible. Just as he reached the door, freedom nigh at hand, Will stopped him in his tracks once again.

“I’ll come along, too,” Will said, catching up much quicker than Strohl had thought possible given the distance he bolted a moment before. A delicate hand cut off his path and gripped the door handle.

“Didn’t you have plans with Brigitta this evening?” Strohl asked, hoping against hope that the answer was still yes.

“Something came up last minute so we rescheduled,” he smiled, still blocking Strohl from the exit.

“Right. Well, the more the merrier,” Strohl said, praying it didn’t sound as forced as it felt. Fortunately, Will either didn’t notice (unlikely) or decided to take mercy on him (much more likely). Will stepped forth once more, opening the door with an altogether too formal flourish and bow, which thankfully had the effect of dissolving the remaining tension.

“You always have been such a strange one,” Strohl chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped out into the mid afternoon sun, Will at his side.

As was custom for their cathedral visits, Maria went ahead alone to speak to her father in private. Both Strohl and Will were familiar enough with this routine by now to know that it would be some time before she’d be ready to depart. Eager to give her some space, the pair made themselves comfortable on a pew a few rows back – close enough to keep a watchful eye, but far enough to be out of earshot. 

The trek over had been spent in companionable silence for the two of them, broken only when responding to one of Maria’s many questions and observations. Now, however, without her to act as buffer, the unease from earlier began to seep back in.

“Have you accomplished everything you set out to do in Grand Trad the past few days?” Strohl asked, eager to break the mounting tension and hopeful that small talk would be enough to carry them through the rest of the afternoon.

“Almost,” said Will. When it was clear that he had nothing more to say on the matter, Strohl simply nodded, eyes scanning the room for any distraction or escape.

“You’re still wearing the headband,” Will said, glancing up, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. Strohl reached up to feel his head, ribbon completely forgotten in the hubbub from earlier. 

“Ah! Right you are,” said Strohl, cheeks beginning to heat with embarrassment, “I should probably—“

“You should keep it,” Will interjected, stopping Strohl before he could begin to untie it. “It looks cute on you.”

“Cute?” Strohl barked out, loud enough for another cathedral patron a few rows away to utter an irritated shush. Strohl cleared his throat. 

“…cute?” he repeated, under his breath this time.

“Yes, Strohl,” Will laughed, “it’s very cute.”

“Oh, come, Will, it’s cruel to tease,” Strohl grumbled, sinking into the pew, burying his face in his hands. Perhaps if he closed his eyes and wished hard enough he’d wake up in his cramped little bunk in the gauntlet runner and this would all be written off as a terrible dream, relegated to the forgotten corners of his mind.

Before he could melt into the floorboards, Strohl felt the warm weight of a hand on his shoulder. Usually Will’s touch was welcome, reassuring – an anchor, even in the most trying times – but now it made every muscle in his body tense. Strohl had no idea how he’d ever live down this day.

“I’m sorry, Strohl,” Will said gently, as if to a spooked horse. “I didn’t mean to tease.”

“Bloody hell you didn’t,” Strohl whined into his hands, still not ready to resurface and face the music.

“Really,” Will said, coaxing Strohl back up to meet his eyes. “I thought it was very sweet that you’d indulge Maria. Having the three of us match clearly made her day.”

Strohl sighed, peering up at Will from under his lashes. He could deal with a lot more than embarrassment if it were for Maria’s sake.

“Yes, well, I suppose in that case it was an afternoon well spent,” Strohl coughed, averting his eyes from the intensity of Will’s gaze.

“I have to ask, though,” Will started, and Strohl’s stomach sank to his feet. He knew where this line of questioning was going, had sensed it coming since their departure from the Honeybee.

“Why did Maria think we’re getting married?”

There it was. The thorn that had been lodged in his side all afternoon, come to cut him open once more. The wheels in Strohl’s brain spun into overdrive, but in seeking a convincing excuse, he still fell short.

Will stared, hands folded delicately in his lap, patiently awaiting a reply.

“Ah, well, you see–” Strohl began, trying to buy himself more time to think but failing to make the best of it. He groaned. Best to take the path of least resistance and rip the bandage off now.

“She said you and I remind her of her mother and Grius,” Strohl winced. Saying it aloud, he supposed it sounded less incriminating than he expected. Perhaps this wasn’t to be a total disaster after all.

“Ah,” Will smiled, though it seemed a bit distant, somehow. Strohl thought he sensed a flash of disappointment in his eyes, but he couldn’t imagine why.

“Did she say why?” Will inquired. He seemed to be genuinely curious. 

“According to Maria my similarities to Grius start and end with our height and hair color,” Strohl smirked. That pulled a genuine laugh from Will, much to Strohl’s delight.

“And what of me?” Will asked.

“She said Grius always described her mother as kind, gentle, and beautiful.”

“I see,” Will said, his face a mystery. “And what do you think, Strohl?”

“Well, as I told Maria, I’m of the opinion that my hair has a more of a silvery sheen to it than her father’s–”

“Not about you,” Will interrupted with a playful slap to Strohl’s arm, rolling his eyes. “About me.”

Strohl swallowed. He was in hot water, now. Perhaps Maria had been right after all, because this was starting to feel like a taste of what an actual marriage might feel like.

“Though I never had the pleasure of meeting Maria’s mother, I can’t say I’m inclined to disagree,” Strohl said, matter-of-factly.

“So you think I’m beautiful, Strohl?” Will asked, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. 

He really fell face first into that one, didn’t he? Strohl knew he was trapped. He wasn’t sure what game Will was playing this evening, but he certainly didn’t like it.

“Not again with the teasing, Will, I beg of you,” Strohl groaned once more, dropping his head back into his hands. 

“Not teasing,” Will said, gently placing a hand on Strohl’s knee. “Just asking.”

Strohl felt his cheeks heating and prayed that the cover of his hands was enough to hide his shame. Surely, Will knew. He must know. Even if Strohl himself had barely known since earlier in the day, it wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest, seeing as Will always was two steps ahead of the game.

“Captain, you are my dearest friend and closest ally, but it is unfair to toy with a man’s heart,” Strohl whispered, staring down at his boots.

Gentle fingers suddenly pried Strohl’s hands away from his face. Valiantly, he looked up to meet Will’s eyes. Smiling softly, Will rested their conjoined hands in Strohl’s lap. He had moved closer, too. Close enough for their thighs to touch, for Strohl to burn at every point of contact. 

“Leon Strohl,” Will said, and oh what a delightfully terrible thrill it was to hear his name said in such a way, “what do you truly think of me?”

They had wandered into uncharted territory, now. Every instinct in his body told him to flee, but the weight of Will’s gaze and the warmth of his touch inspired Strohl to let the truth flow free, at last.

“Without question,” Strohl admitted, gaze flitting from blue eye to gold, “you are the most fascinating person I have ever met. Time and again you have proven your limits know no bounds, and I am at once awestruck by and envious of it.” Swallowing, Strohl took a deep breath and forged ahead before he could second guess himself.

“In this lifetime, I don’t expect I shall ever meet your equal, and, in all honesty, I can’t imagine a future without you by my side, in whatever way you’d have me. Friend, follower, or otherwise.”

“Otherwise?” Will asked, gaze unbreakable, face betraying nothing.

Strohl sighed. “You must know,” he said, eyes falling to their still-entwined hands resting in his lap. “My future belongs only to this kingdom, and to you.”

For a moment, there was silence between them. Strohl worried he had finally overstepped, but before the fear took hold, Will was on him in an instant, burying his hands in Strohl’s hair and crushing their lips together. In one brief, glorious moment, Strohl felt his entire body and soul come alive before Will pulled back with a start, seemingly realizing that now was perhaps neither the time nor the place. Sheepishly, they both glanced over their shoulders, making sure their momentary indiscretion in a place of worship went unnoticed. Strohl hoped to god that Maria was still occupied, otherwise he knew they’d never hear the end of it. Thankfully, she appeared none the wiser, head still bowed at a safe distance away.

“Strohl, I–” Will started, but Strohl simply shook his head, once again capturing Will’s hands in his. He could sense when he felt an apology coming on, and he knew that’s exactly where Will would go if left to his own devices. 

“A conversation for another time, perhaps,” Strohl smiled. Will understood immediately, and squeezed his hands in thanks. At this point in their young lives, and with the current state of the kingdom being what it was, he knew certain things must take precedence. But with every fibre of his being, Strohl knew that come what may, Will would be there by his side though it all. They didn’t need to figure everything out today. The feelings they shared would still be there after they defeated Louis, and wouldn’t that make it all the sweeter?

Unwilling to leave it at just that, though, Strohl leaned forward, placing a brief kiss on Will’s forehead. As their eyes met, the awestruck look on Will's face was enough to drive a lance straight through his heart. Strohl had speculated for months, but he knew now for certain that he was ruined for any other. For any amount of time, he would wait. And from that look in Will’s eyes, he both suspected and hoped the feeling was mutual.

A squeal erupted from across the cathedral at a volume entirely inappropriate for church and Maria came barreling towards them, an enormous grin plastered on her face.

So. They’d been found out, after all. It could be worse, Strohl supposed. At least the forehead kiss was relatively innocent. 

“I knew you were going to get married!” Maria cried, jumping up and down. Will chuckled, averting his gaze, cheeks flushing a rather appealing shade of pink. 

“Do it again!” she commanded, and, because he could never say no to Maria (and not for any self-serving motivation at all), Strohl complied, leaning down to place his lips on Will’s forehead once more. Will’s flush deepened further, but the smile on his lips was unmistakable. Oh, he could get used to this. 

Maria once again squealed in delight, and Strohl was very grateful that they were the only people still occupying the cathedral at this time of day, lest they get forcibly ejected by a grumpy Sanctist priest.

“Me next! Me next!” she begged, bouncing up on her toes. Will, also hopeless to Maria’s charms, smiled and placed a quick kiss on the top of her head. Beaming, Maria clapped her hands together and pulled them both into a great big hug. Strohl ruffled her hair, and made the motion to stand up.

“We should get going,” he insisted, before Maria had the opportunity to ask for another repeat performance. “Wouldn’t want to miss dinner, would we?”

“Okay Uncle Leon!” Maria grinned, making her way towards the door without a care in the world. Strohl turned to follow, but before he could, Will slipped a hand into his.

“Let’s go, Uncle Leon,” Will teased, squeezing his hand. 

“Not you, too,” Strohl groaned in protest, though he squeezed Will’s hand right back. Will simply smirked, and led them both after Maria.

“I hope Fabienne made something hearty for dinner,” Will said, “because we’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Strohl asked. “Finished up in Grand Trad, then?”

“Yes,” Will smiled, knowingly, “I think I’ve finally accomplished everything I set out to do.”