Work Text:
Dawn is barely breaking. A flash and a light thud echoes through the tower. A chest has appeared on the doorstep, one full of ice and exotic fish for the little cat. Normally, this would not be enough to disturb the wizard. However, he has been awake and pacing his bedroom for almost an hour now, and the delivery at least provides him some distraction. He wanders down, still clad in his night robe. The little cat twines around his legs, meowing pitifully.
“Oh, alright,” he murmurs, breaking off a piece of salmon. She gobbles it up thankfully, before scampering off to chase mice. Bringing the ice chest inside, he settles it in its usual spot and begins to set up for breakfast. As he makes his tea, the familiar smells of vanilla and cinnamon fill the space.
Breakfast gives him a little too much time to ponder. It is market day, which is usually a day he looks forward to. However, the wizard is almost nauseous with nervousness today. It is finally the day that he confesses to the ex-paladin and asks him to move into the tower, and he is terrified.
He has known his best friend for two years now, this day being the anniversary of their meeting. It was far from a fairytale meeting: the ex-paladin had arrived to defeat the wizard for his evil-doing. Not that the wizard was involved in any evil-doing, of course, nor would he ever be. Unless you count subtly causing Mrs Bertrand to trip over her own feet the other week. But she had been awful to Missy and her young kittens, and very much deserved the scuffed hem of her new dress.
They cleared up that misunderstanding quickly enough, at least, and soon grew close. The wizard adores how the ex-paladin makes him laugh, how he is always looking out for others, how he will always step in when someone needs a hand. No matter the hand that the world has dealt him, the ex-paladin has managed to remain kind. The wizard can’t say that he has always been the same. And each day, the wizard finds himself falling deeper in love. But making the move from best friends to lovers terrifies the wizard. What if he rejects him and doesn’t want anything to do with him? The wizard doesn’t think he could take that.
But he cannot keep living like this. He needs to say something, and if it doesn’t happen today, he doesn’t think he ever will.
It is only 6am, still too early to start getting the cart ready. So the wizard potters around the library, picking up this or that ancient tome. Various magical relics litter every surface, some for magical purposes and others that he just thinks look cool. It is a lovely space, one which he usually finds relaxing, but this morning the wizard cannot fall into that same state of peace.
Finally, it is time. The wizard carefully loads the crates of potions and charms onto the farmer's cart to take into town for market day. He packs them in straw, though his spell has never failed him yet. “Well,” he says to himself, “There’s no time like the present.” And with a slight flick of the hand, the cart starts to glow and they are off.
Just as always, the ex-paladin is waiting for him at their normal spot. An automatic smile spreads across his face, reflected in the other’s. “Good morning,” says the ex-paladin. “I hope you slept well?” His silver breastplate, clearly recently polished, gleams in the sunlight. He doesn’t wear it much nowadays; there isn’t really much use after he gave up his calling. But the wizard knows that wearing the armour gives him some sense of comfort, so he doesn’t comment.
The wizard grimaces a little. “Not as much as I would have liked. My knee was playing up a little last night. But I should be well enough for today. I would never miss market day if I can help it.”
With practiced hands, the two of them fall into a familiar dance as they start to set up the stall. They have done this many times now, and they barely have to say a word. Soon enough, the purple and gold tent is erected and the various potions and charms are on display. Valentine's Day is almost upon them and the wizard is expecting a busier day than usual.
“Would you like to check out Ms Williams’ stall before the market gets busy?” asks the ex-paladin. “I can definitely keep an eye on things here.”
The wizard replies with a grateful nod before wandering over to the other end of the market. The tent is draped in fabrics of all colours and textures. The wizard trails his fingers across a rich purple velvet, perfect for a robe for the approaching winter. Even in early autumn, the mornings were holding a bit too much of a bite for his liking. He is sure he could make something lovely out of it. And the deep red brocade would suit the ex-paladin well, he is sure of it. An early birthday surprise perhaps? He is once again grateful to his master for teaching him everything, even the more womanly crafts like sewing. It is of little effort with magic to set the needle and thread going, if you could hold a picture in your mind of what you wanted.
After a brief exchange with Ms Williams, he bundles the two bolts of fabric into his arms, tucking them in the depths of the cart before returning to the stall. The sun is climbing higher in the sky and he can see his stall is a riot of activity.
Time passes quickly and both the wizard and the ex-paladin are just about run off their feet. The wizard barely has a chance to pick up his weekly groceries. His stocks are delightfully diminished by the time they call an end to the day.
The wizard and the ex-paladin stand over the cart, piled high with mostly empty crates. They stand in silence for a long moment. “So,” says the ex-paladin. I guess I will see you again tomorrow at noon for lunch?” He is already starting to walk away.
“Wait!” cries the wizard holding out one hand. “We didn’t get time for lunch today. Would you like to join me at the tower for a late feast? I managed to pick up some of that potato and tofu curry you like just before Mr Tilson closed up for the day.”
The paladin’s stomach chooses that moment to grumble loudly, and he laughs. “I would never say no to curry.”
It isn’t long before they are sitting on a bench in the tower garden, food in hand and looking out over the garden. The flowers are starting to die back now and everything is beginning to settle in for the approaching winter. Reaching over, the ex-paladin brushes some crumbs off the wizard’s cheek, who smiles in thanks.
“Would you like to take a turn around the garden?” the wizard offers. But as soon as the words exit his mouth, a grimace crosses his face, the running around suddenly making itself known. His knee is burning, worse than normal. He curses under his breath.
The ex-paladin is immediately there, offering his arm. “Bad day for your knee, I assume? Why don’t we get you inside and you can put your feet up.”
They make their way to the library and the ex-paladin quickly has a fire going in the hearth. The growing warmth eases the pain in his old injury just a little and the wizard feels himself relaxing. The ex-paladin disappears for a time, only to return with a well-used balm, a faint scent of honeysuckle and sandalwood hanging in the air.
The wizard takes the outstretched tub, easing into familiar motions as he begins to rub it into his aching knee. “Thank you, my dear friend. I’m sorry to cut our garden time short like that. I should have expected my knee would flare up after a day like today. Rain check for tomorrow, maybe?”
“Of course. You don’t ever have to apologise. I don’t like seeing you in pain like that. We can take a turn around the garden any time; I’m just as happy sitting here inside with you.”
The room is silent except for the crackling of the fire. It isn’t an awkward silence; rather, the weight of it settles comfortably between them and neither feels the need to fill the gaps. But a tension starts to build, of words unsaid and truths needing to be told.
The wizard finally seizes his chance. He knows this is the time. “I have been meaning to ask. I was wondering … if you would like to move in with me?” Once he has started, the words quickly start to get away from him. “I mean, you are here most days so it would only be efficient. And that room you rent, I know you complain about the young child next door learning the fiddle and playing at all hours of the night. Plus I miss you when you are gone, I really, really miss you. It is lonely here with just me and the little cat. You just fill the space when you are around; you make this place feel more like a home. I … I love you, and I don’t want to be without you more than I need to be. You are my world.”
The wizard fumbles to a stop, blushing. He knows he has a habit of rambling when he is nervous, and he is certainly feeling that right now.
He tentatively looks up towards the other man. A smile breaks across the ex-paladin’s face. The wizard doesn’t think he has ever seen anything so beautiful. “Of course. I would love to move in with you. I love you, I’ve loved you for a long time. I just … didn’t want to risk ruining what we already have. I couldn’t bare to lose you.”
The wizard lets out an uncharacteristic giggle. “That’s exactly what I was thinking! Oh, we are idiots, aren’t we? We have wasted so much time together.”
“Yes, but you’re my idiot. Besides, no time with you is ever wasted.” The ex-paladin leans over, placing a soft kiss on the wizard’s forehead. His chapped lips leave a lingering warmth that the wizard didn’t know he was missing. “Now, I’ll need to return tonight to get everything squared up, but I’ll start packing things up in the morning. You are very welcome to join me if you are feeling up to it; I’d love the company. We can figure everything else out after that.”
“Always.”