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The tassels on his hat jingle as the Wanderer steps onto the newly christened The Durin. Little wings flapping, the boat’s namesake follows him aboard– and on autopilot, Lumine almost does the same.
Whoops, she thinks, feet jerking slightly. You’re staying here, silly.
She isn’t going with them.
With him.
…Right.
“Hm? What’s that look for?” The Wanderer asks, easily catching the way she’d glanced at him, feeling… she doesn’t know what. Weird.
Shaking her head, Lumine tries to rid herself of it, the strange sense of… off-ness. Reluctance? “It’s nothing,” she says, feeling a little awkward for having been caught… caught doing what? Looking at him? “You two go on ahead.”
The Wanderer gives nothing more than a hum in his usual unimpressed tone in response.
“Traveler?” Paimon asks, looking between the two of them Her small white brows furrow in confusion, then in irritation as her gaze falls on the Wanderer.
Lumine flashes her a reassuring smile. “It’s nothing, really! I was just zoning out for a second.”
“Oh, yeah, okay! You must be tired after all that walking around and catching up with everybody who just arrived here! Paimon knows her feet sure feel like they’re about to fall off.”
Lumine arches a brow at her, not having to even say it– that Paimon doesn’t walk– and giggles as Paimon plants her hands on her hips and nods her head seriously, pretending she didn’t see Lumine’s expression. “Yep, I think we’re due for a break! C’mon, Traveler, let's go sit down.”
“Okay, okay!” Lumine laughs, letting herself be shuttled away from the others by two small palms against her back– but she can’t resist sneaking one last look in the Wanderer’s direction.
Their eyes unexpectedly, briefly meet– he was still looking in her direction. Watching her, the whole time. Catching her looking, again.
Cheeks flaring with embarrassed heat, Lumine quickly turns her attention down at the origami grass and rocks beneath her feet.
~~
Not even a whole day has passed before the Wanderer is cornering her in the alley behind the Knights of Favonius headquarters, standing in the gap between the side of the building and the wall formed by the large stone steps leading up to the church. They’re alone– Paimon called it an early night after dinner an hour before.
For a moment, the only sound is the wind and the distant rumble of the windmills, steadily spinning round and round.
Then, rightly guessing that Lumine wasn’t going to be the one to speak first, the Wanderer crosses his arms and sighs heavily. “Out with it, already. This is a waste of time.”
Lumine… isn’t sure what he wants to hear. “Out with what?”
“You know what.” He says impatiently, but elaborates anyway– an indulgence, for her. One of many. “That look you gave me earlier, when I was leaving with Durin.”
“Oh. That.”
The Wanderer inclines his head, as if to say “Obviously,” as he tightens his crossed arms. A clear invitation for her to speak.
She’s not being difficult on purpose– but before she can answer him, Lumine needs to think. What was she even feeling right then, anyway?
…Happiness, she thinks. For Durin, yes, but mostly for Eiden. He’s grown so much– and made another new friend. One who really seems to get him, who he is able to be surprisingly close to that rare, raw version of himself around.
The version of himself that, up until now, only she had really seen in its entirety.
…Oh.
So that was it.
Huh. Well, this is… ironic. Lumine can’t help an amused huff at the irony, at the way their positions had reversed.
“What’s funny?” The Wanderer asks, sounding irritated. But she knows it’s all bark and no bite. Always was, with him. …Something Durin would soon learn, if he hadn’t already.
Surprised at herself, Lumine swallows back the sudden bitterness, trying to push it down; this isn’t like her, to be so negative about a good thing. To get so attached, though that ship had long sailed when it came to Eiden, her now long-time best kept secret from Paimon and everybody else that came to visit her teapot– the owner of the indent in the bed next to where she slept.
She forces herself to look back up, but her courage quails the moment his shrewd indigo gaze meets hers. So, rather than his second question, she answers his first, hoping he won’t catch on.
“I was just thinking that it was weird to not be leaving with you.”
Phrased so delicately. But the Wanderer’s sharp wit needs no assistance in drawing out the true meaning of her words, the once near-ascended wisdom godling’s pretty purple-blue eyes flashing as a slow smile spreads across his lips.
“Ah. So that’s what this is all about,” he chuckles, a low, rich sound, shaking his head in amusement. “How cute of you, Traveler.”
Huffing, Lumine’s hands fall on her hips, lips pressed together in a pout. Of course he’d find this amusing. Jerk. “It’s not that funny,” she grumbles.
“Isn’t it? All that following me around, incessantly haranguing me with pretty words, refusing to give up until I ceded to your whims and childish philosophies– and now here you are, falling to pieces because you’re jealous.”
Cheeks hot, Lumine averts her eyes. She knows better than to try and deny it– but she can’t bring herself to admit it either.
Not one to stop when he’s on a roll, the Wanderer presses on, electric eyes lit as he advances forward one step at a time. Any other time, Lumine would’ve let him approach, but right now, she’s too embarrassed in this reversal of their typical roles, of her own mature and kind character failing her when she should be happy, supportive. But the Wanderer won’t let her hide from it. With her every step backwards, he advances– until she runs out of space, back hitting the cold stone wall, trapped between it and the Wanderer’s body. But even then, she still can’t face it. She’d been determined to keep her head down and to the side, but when the Wanderer’s gentle thumb and forefinger tip up her chin, he needs no application of force to make her reluctantly meet his gaze.
“Poor, foolish traveler,” He sighs, but though his tone is patronizing, there isn’t a hint of malice. Rather, it’s teasing, fond, and only a little bit cruel in how he is clearly relishing the way she squirms at being called out. “Should’ve listened to me when I warned you you were better off not nurturing this bond of ours. But no– you just couldn’t help yourself; you had to extend your hand even to the likes of me. Following me around, inserting yourself into every opening you could find until you wormed your way in, making yourself my companion. Now look at you. Jealous of that innocent child because of your desire to monopolize me.”
“I’m reconsidering that desire,” Lumine grumbles weakly. If her feelings for him were truly that swayable, she wouldn’t be in this position in the first place, and they both know it. In the past, Eiden was the one most often at a loss when it came to the strength of their bond and the ways it made him act– so it’s no wonder he’s enjoying this, for once not the one to be embarrassed or frustrated for the way their hearts made them act.
Even though she’s annoyed at him for being amused at her expense, Lumine can’t resist the way she leans into it when his finger on her chin becomes a palm cradling her cheek. She doesn’t even have the strength to keep her eyes from fluttering shut as his thumb grazes her cheekbone, his voice barely above a whisper as he teases her still.
“What an unsightly state my lonely little ray of sunshine is in– like a cold, wet puddle. Worried I’ll actually give somebody else the place in my heart you expended s~o much effort to create.” He chuckles again, and the puff of sweet air is cool on her face. “Well, you already know that unlike some in this world, I’m not that cruel. But, if you need some reassurance to believe it…”
She opens her eyes at his pause, and the Wanderer smiles like he was waiting for it, face looming a scant few inches away.
“Shall I show you some affection of the kind I share only with you?”
Lumine’s cheeks heat deeper– she doesn’t need any clarification on what he means by that. She swallows a dry gulp, excited despite herself; he did such a good job at keeping up his mask of indifference sometimes that even though it wasn’t usually as thick around her, when he set it down entirely and directly expressed his feelings, it was always an intense ordeal.
One that never failed to make her heart race wildly.
Even now, just the anticipation of it has her pulse quickening as Eiden, knowing full well by now the power he had over her in these moments, leans in inch by torturous inch, eyes gleaming. But he stops just shy of her mouth, waiting for her answer.
Reluctantly, Lumine nods, feeling a little bit like she’s playing right into the palm of his hand– but right now, she can’t bring herself to care.
Eiden chuckles again. Murmurs, “Truly adorable.”
And then his lips cover hers.
As always, there’s no hesitance, no polite courtesy– but though firm and wholly encompassing, his kiss is remarkably gentle. Unlike many past kisses which he clearly enjoyed dominating, thrilling at how she responded to him and making as much of a mess of her as possible, this time, he doesn’t crowd or overwhelm. Just kisses and kisses and kisses again, soft and sweet but relentless, impressing. A steady, unbroken stream of contact, more romantic than charged, each one practically dripping with soft, tender affection. Reassuring her, without words, of their deep, inimitable bond.
Of her uncontestable place in his heart.
“Silly girl,” he husks against her lips when she groans in weak relief, sinking into his affection like soothing a burn in cool water. “Unlike others, I don’t intend to abandon you when I no longer need your help. No matter how many times you fall, I’ll catch you.”
“But earlier, you said–”
“Hush,” he cuts her off with another kiss, getting a little less tender with it when he hears her muffled giggle against his lips.
“Looks like you’re feeling better,” he observes archly. “Good. Then I don’t need to keep holding back.”
Lumine squeals as the kiss morphs into the dominating, overwhelming kind she’s familiar with. The sound soon turns into a weak moan as Eiden captures her tongue, growling as he gives it a long, rough suck before invading her mouth with his own.
By the time he’s satisfied, she’s panting for breath, legs weak beneath her as she follows him out of the alley. But despite her scandalized, half-hearted fussing, she’s smiling– regardless of the method, what he’d done had worked all too well.
And his hand is around hers.