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Osvald's body was covered in scars, but Agnea already knew that.
The rain outside fell heavily, but this small abandoned temple seemed sturdy enough, at least. There were many such temples scattered about this area of the Crestlands, Merry Hills having been built around the largest of them. Osvald sat cross-legged on the hard ground while Agnea knelt behind him, his hairbrush in her hand. His hair had dried, but the rainwater had left it a frizzy mess, and she gathered it into her hand and set the brush against it. He said nothing, only giving her a brief glance out of the corner of his eye.
She already knew he had many scars, but the sight of them still made her heart ache.
Quickly she glanced at his shirt and scholar's coat draped over a pew. He had thrown his coat over her as they escaped the rain, sparing her from the worst of it, but he had been left soaked. She bit the inside of her cheek; ill-timed as such a thought was, but the sight of his long hair spilling over his bare back was also enticing.
When she had fallen in love with him, she couldn't say. Young as she was, even she knew these feelings could be nothing else. For so long she had locked away those feelings, but how he had smiled as she danced at the Grand Gala had set those feelings ablaze once more.
She pressed the brush to his hair. She had noticed him watching her more often lately, but maybe it was only her imagination. Twenty years separated them, after all.
"Hey, Osvald," she said carefully, "are you all right with this? I'm not being too forward, am I?"
"You've never hesitated before, so why are you asking now?" Osvald glanced at Agnea over his shoulder. "In any case, if it's with you, it's fine."
Agnea swallowed dryly. Osvald likely meant nothing special about those words, and if anything, her own question just made things more awkward. She inhaled a deep breath, and only the sound of rain falling outside filled the air. If he was bothered by her physical affection, he was the type to have said something long ago. She willed her hands to remain steady as she brushed his hair, and it was soft, no longer as tangled as it had been when she and the others had first rescued him from the snow. It'd been nearly unsalvageable, but even then he had refused to allow anyone to cut it. Her fingers brushed against the back of Osvald's neck, and she felt him stiffen; how hard had he fought to stop any of the prison guards from cutting his hair? She could scarcely imagine.
Five years imprisoned and believing his daughter dead. But Elena was safe now with Lady Clarissa, and her memories would return as Castti's had. Thus Agnea hoped.
"What's wrong?" Osvald asked suddenly.
"Oh, nothing!" she replied quickly, realizing her hands had stopped. "I just hope the others didn't get caught in this rain!"
"Likely they have found shelter as well. When the rain stops, we will convene."
Agnea cast a quick glance toward one of the broken windows. The rain didn't look like it would stop anytime soon, and it was growing dark outside.
Silence again fell over the two of them, and Agnea hoped Osvald couldn't hear how her heart raced. As she continued to brush his hair, she caught glimpses of long, whip-like scars over his back. He still spoke little of his time in Frigit Isle, but he had confided in her he'd been forced to wear a muzzle. During their travels, when the eight of them shared meals, he always ate more slowly than the others. She curled a strand of pale hair around her finger; never again would she allow someone to hurt him so.
Despite all that he had endured, he still had a kind heart. That magic he manifested to protect Elena from Harvey was proof of that.
"Agnea." Osvald spoke again, more softly this time. "At the Grand Gala, you were… stunning."
Her hands stilled a moment, heat spreading across her face. Osvald had said repeatedly he didn't care much for small talk, but now here he was, saying something like that so suddenly! "Um, why, thank you!" she stammered. "It really was wonderful to see everyone smiling! Even Dolcinaea was smiling…!"
"Stars put smiles on people's faces, you say." Osvald paused a moment, touching the heavy shackle around his throat. "Elena would love to watch you dance too."
Despite her racing heart, Agnea smiled. Rita had also loved to dance, Osvald once told her. "Anytime! That's a promise!"
Osvald fell silent, and though Agnea could not see his expression, she caught the faint tremble of his jaw. As she ran the brush through his hair, she let her fingers linger along the strands, perhaps longer than needed. Yet warmth still kindled in her chest when he had called her stunning, startling as it was. She giggled silently to herself; truth be told, his smile had been most exciting to see.
If she could make him smile like that again…
"There, finished!" she exclaimed. "Your hair is as lovely as always!"
"'Lovely'?" Osvald repeated flatly.
Agnea blushed; had she really said that out loud? "W-Well, it's true!" she replied without thinking, and winced.
"…if you say so. Thank you."
Still blushing, Agnea put away the hairbrush and sat beside Osvald, leaving a little bit of space between them. She stared intently at her feet, again too acutely aware that Osvald was still shirtless. He was a handsome man, broad in chest and shoulders, and more than once she fantasized about being held in those strong arms of his. His shirt was probably dry by now, but if she drew attention to that, would she only be making things awkward again? Thus she remained silent, and neither of them moved.
The rain outside still fell heavily, and Agnea watched Osvald out of the corner of her eye. He was rather taller than her, and few could match his stature. Scars and blemishes covered his skin, muscles hardened by five years imprisoned. She laid her hand over his, and much to her surprise, his calloused fingers curled around hers. Most of all, his warmth made her feel safe.
Without warning, Osvald rested his head against Agnea's shoulder, and it was all she could do not to jolt away in surprise. A strand of hair slid over his bare shoulder, and his fingers tensed around hers. "Is this all right…?" he asked, his voice a whisper.
Agnea could not help but smile, despite how her heart raced. "Of course," she said, her voice just as quiet.
Osvald let out a deep breath and shut his eyes for a moment. The prison shackle sat heavily around his neck, and his shoulders slumped in exhaustion. None of the eight of them had gotten much rest these past few weeks, Agnea knew, Osvald especially. From Montwise to Gravell in pursuit of Harvey had felt like a horrific nightmare, and never would she forget the sight of Harvey consumed by his own dark magic.
Carefully Agnea tucked a strand of Osvald's hair behind his ear, and she saw how his body relaxed at her touch. Elena was safe now. That was what mattered.
"I can say it is difficult to describe why, but when I'm with you, I feel… calm," Osvald said, still his voice almost drowned out by the sound of rain. "I've not felt this way since the day I lost Rita…"
Agnea let out a soft laugh. "I feel safe with you too. I'm glad we met, really."
Yet Osvald sighed heavily. "You're so young, and I…" He trailed off, chewing his lip. "If you and the others had not saved me from the snow that day, I fear to imagine what might've happened. Even now, after everything you've seen on our travels, you can still smile. I am… relieved to see that."
When Agnea had first set out on this journey, she hadn't imagined such ugliness and cruelty existed in this world. But perhaps she'd been naïve - she'd known that Hikari's quest for his kingdom would likely end in his brother's death, Throné had made no secrets of her goal to kill her "parents" for freedom, and Temenos' murder investigation had not been without loss. Agnea lowered her head to Osvald's and let her free arm come around his scarred back. "I want to help you smile as well," she said at last.
He lifted his head, rare surprise in his icy gaze. Under ordinary circumstances, the two of them might never have met. But their paths had crossed, and Agnea could no longer deny the fire in her own breast. Before she could stop herself, she pressed her lips to Osvald's. It was only a quick kiss, but as she pulled away, he touched her shoulders and kissed her too.
In this temple forgotten by even the gods, perhaps hope was born anew.
Osvald drew Agnea into his arms, holding her desperately, as if he had forgotten warmth. She felt the prison chain between them, but that discomfort was insignificant compared to the warmth of his arms around her or the sound of his heartbeat against hers. "You would have a man like me?" he asked, his lips brushing against her hair.
She nodded. "I know I'm not Rita, but I'll share my heart with you too!"
"No, you aren't Rita." Osvald's breath hitched a moment. "It isn't the same, but your warmth is much like hers."
Agnea raised her head and cupped Osvald's face between her hands, feeling his beard against her palms. There was little light in this forgotten temple, and raindrops fell through the cracks in the ceiling. Hardly the most romantic place, she knew, but a relationship such as theirs would always be unusual. "It won't be easy, not with how much younger I am. I know that, I really do." She brushed her thumb over Osvald's lips, and smiled again. "But still, I want you to be happy, Osvald!"
"Happy," he repeated, as if the word was unfamiliar on his tongue. "'Happiness' may be as much an enigma as love is, and there is no denying the differences in ages between us. But regardless, I still wish to help you smile as well."
Tears stung at the corners of Agnea's eyes, and she smiled. A joy much like the Grand Gala but not quite the same filled her, and when she could not think of what else to say, she simply kissed Osvald again, and he welcomed her kiss.
As a dancer, she wished to help others smile, just as her mother had. Joy was an important part of life, as much as breathing. As such, there was no true "end" to her dream. Osvald smiled at her, faintly and quietly, and she might've missed it had she not traveled with him for so long. She laid her hand on his bared chest, over his heart, and he took that hand into his.
Perhaps the rain wouldn't let up until dawn. A gentle quiet fell over the two of them, and Agnea rested her head against Osvald's shoulder. Eventually they would reunite with their companions, and their travels would continue. But for now, they could enjoy these quiet moments, just the two of them.