Archive of Our Own

5 Years Ago

Paladin’s Oath to His Cleric

⋆༺𓆩⸸𓆪༻⋆

“WILL!”

Mike didn’t think. He saw the blade coming down behind Will and moved before he could think any further. One second Will was turning toward the sound of his name, and the next Mike was between him and the sword. The blade struck beneath his armor just as Mike drove his own sword into the enemy. For a heartbeat, he felt nothing. Then the blade was ripped from his body, and his knees gave out beneath him.

“Mike!”

Will staggered over and caught him before the rest of him hit the ground. Mike barely registered being lowered onto the bloodied earth. His sword slipped from his fingers and fell somewhere beside him.

“Look at me. Mike, look at me!! Open your eyes!”

Mike tried, he really did.

Will's face went in and out of focus above him, blood running from his temple, his robes torn and stained from his own wounds, a hand clutching the side of his ribs.

Then Will's hands were pressing down against Mike's chest. Light spilled out beneath his fingers, faint. Much too faint. Mike had watched Will heal others throughout the battle, his magic shining bright beneath his hands. Now, as night crept over the battlefield, it barely illuminated his palms. It didn't stop Will from trying, drawing on whatever little magic remained, no matter how much it completely drained him.

“Will…”

“Don’t talk.”

Will tried again, another pulse of light flickering. Will took a hesitant breath, tears welling in his eyes. “Come on…” The magic brightened for a moment but then faded out again. Will didn’t stop. Nothing shined. “Please…” his breath hitched as he choked back sobs.

Mike brought up his hand as he caught one of Will's wrists. Will immediately tried to wiggle free, as he continued to summon his magic to heal Mike. “Just let me...”

“You’re bleeding, Will.”

“I don’t care.”

“I-I do,” Mike staggered out.

“Mike, you’re dying.” Will was doing his best to hold back his tears.

“You can't…” Mike struggled for another breath, “Can't get rid of me that easily.” Will stared at him with wet eyes. Mike tightened his grip slightly around Will's wrist. “You’ve done enough, it’s okay,” he breathed out.

“No I-I haven’t.”

“You have.”

“I healed some, but I c-can’t heal all o-of them.” Will's voice cracked on the confession as his hands splayed across his chest, pushing every ounce of magic into Mike that would leave his fingertips.

Mike looked down at the blood spilling beneath his armor, now staining Will’s hands. Will had already given everything he had left, and somehow was still trying to give more. Mike swallowed dryly. “You’re hurt.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

Will stared at Mike. “You pushed me out of the way!”

“I had to. It would’ve hit you.”

“So you let it hit you instead?!” Will screamed.

Mike couldn’t answer. His breathing had slowed too much, every inhale shallower than the last. He gulped down as much air as he could, fighting to keep his eyes open.

Will's features softened as his tears welled up. The anger disappeared almost as quickly as it had come, leaving only fear behind. “You are dying.”

“And it could have been you.”

“Mike…”

“I would do it again.” There wasn't a single piece of him that needed to think about it. If that blade came again, Mike knew exactly where he would stand, and that was between the blade and Will, every single time. He started to sit up, using all of the energy he had left. 

Will frowned. “What are you doing?”

Mike strained as he sat up and reached for his sword, using it to force himself upward.

“Mike, stop.”

Mike drove the point of his sword into the earth and shakily dropped to one knee, one hand still wrapped around the hilt. The other he held out, open, toward Will.

“Mike…”

Will stared at Mike's outstretched hand, realization slowly crossing his face. He knew what Mike was asking, what he was about to do. There was no temple, or altar, or priest to witness this. There was only the ruined battlefield around them, the dying light overhead, blood beneath their knees, and the two of them, and that made it matter more. Blood still streaked the back of that hand. Will’s healing magic had closed the worst of the wounds, but the evidence remained, dark blood still leaking beneath his armor and staining the earth.

“Give me your hand.”

For several seconds, Will didn’t move. Then Will placed his hand in Mike's. Mike curled his bloodstained fingers around it. His sword remained planted in the broken earth, one hand gripping the hilt for balance, the other holding Will’s. 

Mike bowed his head. 

“My dear Cleric,

This is my oath to you.

I will guard your life until my dying breath.

I will stand between you and every blade, every curse, every shadow that reaches for you.

I will keep every promise I make to you, no matter the cost to myself.

I will speak no lie to you, even when the truth is difficult to say. 

I will not let harm take you while I still have the strength to stand.

I will not let the darkness overtake you. Should your light ever fade, I will remain beside you until it finds you again.

I will carry what you cannot, and I will share the burdens too heavy for you to bear alone.

I will find you when you are lost, and I will lift you when you fall.

Mike raised his head then. Will was already staring back at him. Tears had finally broken free, slipping silently down his cheeks. Mike tightened his fingers around Will's. His voice was quieter when he spoke again but no less certain.

I will return to your side, always, for as long as I am able to find my way back to you.

This I swear as Your Paladin.”

Will's fingers tightened around Mike’s. Then he nodded once, more tears falling down his face. “Then you better live long enough to keep it.”

Despite the pain, the blood, and how little strength he had left, the corner of Mike’s mouth lifted as he barely managed a wink. “I will.”

Another promise.

5 Years Ago

Paladin’s Oath to His Cleric

⋆༺𓆩⸸𓆪༻⋆

And for the next five years, Mike lived by every word.

Unfortunately, living by every word meant attending the Lantern Festival for the fifth year in a row.

“We’re going.”

“Ugh, Will…”

“It’s just one night.”

Mike groans from across the room. He was sitting on the edge of the bed as Will got ready. “We’ve gone every year since they started doing this.”

“That's because it happens every year.”

“Exactly, so we’ve already done it before.”

“That’s your argument?”

“It’s a pretty solid one.” Mike shrugs.

Will ignores him. He stands in front of the floor-length mirror on the other side of the room, fastening the silver clasp at the top of his cloak. Mike watches him get ready, his eyes linger probably a little longer than they need to.

Will had changed out of his usual purple robes, the ones trimmed with little gold stars, into something nicer. The robes he wore now were dark blue, almost black unless the light caught them just right. Silver stitching ran along the hems and cuffs, with tiny silver stars scattered across the fabric.

Mike recognized them immediately. They'd bought them only a few weeks ago, not long after Mike returned from his latest mission. He'd been gone nearly a month, and somewhere between Will insisting Mike needed a new cloak and Mike insisting Will couldn't criticize his wardrobe while wearing the same three sets of robes every week, they'd somehow ended up shopping for each other.

Will had nearly put the robes back after seeing the price. Mike had told him to stop being ridiculous. And now, after all that, this was the first time Mike had actually seen him wear them. Apparently, if there was ever a special enough occasion to finally pull them out, the Lantern Festival was it.

Will's hair was combed, styled, and for once, behaving. He'd even put on the pendant he usually only wore during ceremonies. The polished silver star rested against the dark blue fabric, glinting whenever he moved.

Mike frowns and looks down at himself. He was wearing his usual armor, but he swapped his red cloak for the darker blue-black one because Will had suggested it, and of course, Mike had listened.

They'd bought the cloak and Will's robes together during that same shopping trip. Mike hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now, with Will standing in front of him, he realized the colors matched almost perfectly. Dark blue, black, and silver. Even some of the stitching looked similar, even though they were bought at different shops. They almost looked like they'd dressed to match. Mike decided not to examine that thought too closely.

Instead, he looks back up just as Will adjusts his collar. “Why do you always dress so nice for these things?”

Will’s hands stop moving as he looks up at Mike through the mirror. “What?”

“For the Lantern Festival. You did it last year too.”

“Yeah, okay, I gathered that, but what are you saying?”

Mike sits up a little straighter on the edge of the bed and gestures toward him, “You always do all of…” he waves his hands in a circular motion at Will’s outfit, “that.”

Will turns around, brow raised, and puts a hand on his hip. “That’s incredibly descriptive, Michael, thank you.”

Mike sighs and rubs his face with his hands and returns his gaze to Will. “I’m just implying that you dress nice.” 

Will drops his hand at his hip as he stiffens slightly, his cheeks slowly getting color. Mike notices immediately as soon as Will goes silent. He didn’t understand it, nor did he understand all the other times it had happened before. “You know, it’s just throwing a lantern into the air.”

Will’s face drops instantly, he quickly turns back around to finish tying the clasp. “Well, you almost managed to give me a compliment.”

“Wha…I did give you a compliment.”

“Yeah… and then you ruined it.”

“How?”

“Oh, my God. Forget it, Mike.”

Mike just stares at the back of his head for another second. The robes do look nice. Maybe he just said it weird, and Will heard it wrong. “The blue looks good on you.”

Will freezes but doesn’t turn around this time. Mike watches as Will lifts his eyes to where he is already looking back at him. The color in his cheeks returns so much faster this time, Mike wonders if maybe he’s under the weather. He scrunches his brows together, “Are you okay? You’re doing that again.”

“Doing what?”

“Turning red.”

“No, I’m not,” Will objects, as his face continues to redden.

“You are.” Mike tries to make eye contact with Will through the mirror, but he just looks away.

“Whatever, it’s warm in here.”

Mike glances toward the open window that was letting in a very cool, refreshing breeze and smells from the ongoing festival. 

“Sure.”

“Shut up.” Will was really trying to hide how flushed his face had gotten, but Mike was still convinced it was from him not feeling well. Will eventually made eye contact with Mike.

Mike smiles, not taking his eyes off of Will. Will rips his eyes from his gaze and mumbles to himself as he fiddles with his clasp again. It’s already fastened and centered, but Mike doesn’t say anything. He just keeps watching Will straighten his robes and smooth out a stray hair. He did look really good, annoyingly good, it was probably the blue and how it brought out the green in his eyes. Yeah, definitely the blue. 

Mike shifts from where he is sitting to a standing position. “I still think we should do something else this year.”

Will drops his hands from the clasp and turns around completely to look at Mike. “Yeah, like what?”

Mike shrugs as he begins to pace the bedroom. “I don’t know. We could get dinner.”

“There’s food at the festival.” 

“Yeah, food where everyone is sitting next to you or bumping shoulders, being loud, being messy, and who knows what else.” Mike leans back against one wall. “I meant, like, maybe somewhere quiet.”

Will’s eyes widened. “Somewhere quiet…”

“Yeah, you know,” Mike thinks for a moment, “that place by the river you like on the other side of town. We could take the horses and bring the food down there.”

“Just us?”

Mike frowns. “Uh yeah,” he laughs, “Who else would come?”

Will says nothing as his hand drifts towards the clasp again, hand tightening around it.

“Exactly. Or we can take the horses out past the village, near the last row of houses at night.”

“To do what?”

“Well, you’ve been saying you wanted to see those moon-flowers when they bloom, right?” Mike looks towards Will like he could convince him right then and there. “We can go do that.”

Will's cheeks fully fill with color, as his knuckles turn white, clutching at the clasp. “Moon-flowers. You remember that?”

Mike frowns again, “Why wouldn’t I? You’ve mentioned it a bunch of times.”

“I mentioned it once, to be exact.”

“No.”

“Yes, it was just one time,” Will reiterates.

Mike raises his hands in defeat. “Either way, I remembered.”

Will just stares as Mike paces the room again. Mike stops his pacing when he catches Will's gaze. “What?”

“Nothing, just uh, keep going.”

“With what?” Mike asks.

“All the um, the supposed ideas that are better than going to the Lantern Festival.”

“Oh.” Mike looks out the open window, past the trees and into the meadows towards the festival. “What about going up to the old watchtower?”

“And do what exactly?” Will blinks, eyelashes fluttering as he tries to keep a calm face.

“We could bring some wine.”

Will's eyebrows shift. “Wine.”

“Do you have to repeat everything I say?” Mike questions.

“I’m trying to understand what exactly you're suggesting.”

Mike looks at him like he was the confusing one. “Uh, I’m suggesting dinner, maybe some wine, and we could even watch the stars.” 

Will really stares at him now, and it makes him feel like he is going crazy. Mike waits for him to say something, but it never comes. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You keep saying that.” Mike rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he leans back against the wall.

“I have nothing to say.” Will brushes off a piece of lint from the fabric of his cloak.

Mike shrugs, “Okay then, so should we go to the river or the watchtower then?”

“No.”

“Okay then, the moon-flowers?”

“Mike…”

“What?” Mike is so confused, why isn’t Will agreeing to any of his options? He usually does. 

“Just stop.” 

“What am I doing wrong? I’m just suggesting things for us to do together.”

“Well, stop suggesting things.” Will looks down at the floor, fiddling with his feet.

"I'm giving you great alternatives to do instead of going to the festival.”

“No, you’re giving me...” Will stops himself from continuing. Mike just waits for him to finish.

“Giving you what?” Mike asks. 

Will's cheeks turn red as a tomato.

Mike did not understand what was going on. He swore Will was fine this morning, and now he seems ill. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Yeah, why?” Will questions.

“Because you’re really red.”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you have a fever?”

“No.” Will seems quieter than usual, but nothing extremely out of the ordinary.

Mike lifts himself from the wall and takes a step forward. “Will…”

Will takes a step back. “What are you doing?”

If before didn’t confuse him, then this certainly did. “Uh, to check if you have a fever.”

“I don’t have a fever.”

“Well, you don’t know that.” Mike reaches out a hand, but Will catches his wrist before Mike lays his palm on his forehead. Neither of them move. Mike looks up towards his hand, gripped in Will's, and then looks down into his eyes. Will was staring at him. Being this close, he could really see how dark his cheeks had gotten, probably redder than before. “You’re acting weird, Will.”

“You’re acting weird.”

“I’m just trying to help.” Mike shifts on his feet.

“I'm not sick.”

“Then why are you so red?” It comes out a bit more accusatory than he intends.

“Because you won’t stop,” Will mutters, barely audible, but given the proximity, Mike hears it clearly.

“Stop what?” Mike raises a brow, more confused than he has ever been in his life. Will opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Mike waits for a few heartbeats.

Will doesn’t move as he slowly lets go of Mike’s wrist. “Nothing.”

Mike groans, “Will, come on.”

Will pushes Mike out of his way, turns around, and gives himself a quick look in the mirror before looking over his shoulder. “We’re going to the festival.”

“Will…” Mike whines.

“Please stop talking.”

“Fine.” Mike reaches for his sword. Will watches him buckle it around his waist, tie his pouch to his belt, and take a quick glance in the mirror to fix his hair.

“I thought you didn't want to go.”

“I don't.”

“Well, you can stay here. I can go by myself.” 

Mike jerks his head up so quickly, like that was the dumbest idea he has ever heard. “By yourself? Yeah right, like I am going to let you go by yourself at night into the village.”

“The village we live in?”

“The village where we were almost slaughtered.”

“That was five years ago,” Will laughs, releasing a breath.

“It still happened.”

“And we've lived here peacefully ever since.”

“Danger doesn't take holidays.” Mike is trying his best to make a point. Will closes his eyes. Mike fiddles with the belt around his waist, ensuring the sword is safe and secure. “Besides, I’m your Paladin.”

Will opens his eyes. “That doesn't mean you have to follow me everywhere.”

Mike pauses, for just a moment, words he'd spoken five years ago surface effortlessly. ‘I will return to your side, always, for as long as I am able to find my way back to you.’ He holds the hilt of his sword. “Pretty sure that's exactly what it means.” 

Something shifts in Will's expression, cheeks returning to their usual color as he shakes his head in disbelief like he also thought of those words from years ago. Will opens the door and gestures for Mike to walk through first, even though that was Mike’s job for Will. Well, not a job…just something he usually always did. Mike held the door open instead and nodded for Will to go.

Cool evening air swept into the room, carrying distant music, laughter, smoke, spices, and the faint sweetness of something baking in the streets below. Will ducks under Mike’s arm and heads outside. Mike follows. Of course he does, he has followed Will to the first Lantern Festival, and through everything else since then. Tonight would be the fifth anniversary, and Mike would never stray from where Will would lead them.

Five years ago, he made a promise to Will that he would follow wherever their paths led, and Mike always kept his promises. Every single one.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

The village looks nothing like the place Mike remembers bleeding into. Something about this year seems different, the memories, the people, them, everything. Five years ago, fire had swallowed half the square, tore down buildings, and destroyed land, but tonight lanterns swallowed the town and filled its city with lights. 

They stretched between rooftops in rows of golden-white glow, their enchanted flames swaying gently above the crowded streets as people walked by. Flowers had been woven by the young children and hung around old stone walls, curling over places that had once been blackened by smoke.

Most of the damage was gone now, but the remnants were reminders of the past. If Mike looked closely enough, he could still find it. A scorch mark beneath the vines or a small crack running through an old stone archway. There was a slight difference in color where one building had been rebuilt using different stone. The village would always remember the events of the past even as everyone tried to celebrate and move on in the present. 

Mike supposed that was the whole reason why they created the festival. To honor those who were lost but to also cherish the time they had left amongst those who had survived. Long banners hung from windows and balconies in beautiful colors. Names had been embroidered across them in silver thread. It was the names of The Lost, of those who will never be forgotten. Mike's pace slows. He hadn’t paid the banners any mind in the years before, but today he scans the list. Two names quickly catch the corner of his eye. He knew those names, he had fought with those names.

Lucas Sinclair 

Dustin Henderson

Mike hadn't thought about them in months, a few years if he was being honest. He hadn’t forgotten, he just hadn’t brought himself to think of the time when he stood by their side, his friends, his best friends who gave their everything to save the village that they loved. Now it was just him and Will.

But seeing their names brought everything back with irritating clarity. Lucas laughing because Mike had broken the buckle on his armor the morning before the battle. Dustin promising to repair it when they returned. Dustin giving his usual inspirational speech before the battle. Lucas and Dustin fighting somewhere off to Mike's left as they tried to push back the fire from a dragon who was trying to force them off a cliff.

Then nothing. Mike remembers asking where they were after he fully recovered from almost losing his life. Nobody had answered. He knew then what happened, and it took months for him to recover from the loss of not only his friends but also his family. Will and Mike attended a ceremony in their honor and lit candles at the temple.

He stares at the embroidered letters, smile fading as Will stops beside him. He didn't say anything, he didn’t have to. Mike knew what Will was saying without words—that they would be okay, that they fought hard and were brave, and they did it together, and that they were never alone. Will’s shoulder brushes Mike's lightly, and this reignites a spark in himself. He could feel his smile slowly return. Mike glances towards Will, whose eyes were still pointed towards the banner. For a moment, Mike heard his own voice from five years ago.

‘Should your light ever fade, I will remain beside you until it finds you again.'

Ha. Very funny. Mike had sworn his oath to Will, but it seemed lately that it didn’t seem to only go one way. Mike bumps his shoulder back gently against Will's. 

Will finally looks over. “You alright?”

Mike nods and smiles shyly. “Yeah. I will be now.” Not that seeing those names didn't hurt. It did, but with Will by his side, it was just different now. Will searches his face for another moment. Then nods.

They continue toward the square. The quiet walk lasts approximately three minutes. Then Will sees the food stalls, and Mike notices, and that never ended well. “No, uh-uh.”

Will was already moving from one stall to the next, smelling the food, reading the menus, and tasting samples when offered.  “You don't even know what I'm looking at.”

“You’re looking at every food stall to see what you want to buy from each stand, just to not eat it all and throw half of it out. You have a face for that.”

“What does it look like then?”

“It looks like you’re ready to buy something you don’t need, and your face reads expensive. ”

Will shoves him, and he begins walking faster. Mike follows, laughing and watching as Will's face lights up with delight at seeing the stalls that were there the year before and the new ones with tons of children standing in front of them. 

Will walks under the glow of a hanging lantern that casts a beautiful light and pattern on Will's face as he turns to see if Mike was still following. Mike was mesmerized. “The blue still looks good on you.”

Will nearly walks directly into another person. Mike catches him by the arm and pulls him into his side before he collides with a woman carrying a tray of beers. “Careful, Will.”

Will pauses and looks up at him. Mike frowns. “Seriously. What's wrong with you tonight? Are you sure you’re okay? We can head back.”

Will pulls his arm free and steps out of Mike’s bubble. “Nothing.”

Mike sighs because apparently it was going to be a very long night, and who knows what else would happen.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

The square was worse than Mike remembers it to be. It seemed more crowded, maybe other villages had traveled to participate in their lantern festival as a way to celebrate and send off their own wishes.

It wasn’t necessarily bad, it was just that apparently every person within ten feet had decided they needed to occupy the same patch of the cobblestone they were in. Mike stayed close to Will, not holding him to his side but standing closer than usual. At least, he thought it was closer than usual. He generally stayed pretty close to Will, it was easier that way. People moved aside when they saw his armor and sword, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

Someone bumps Will from behind, and Mike's hand immediately finds the small of his back.

“Hey, watch it!” Mike shouts. The man apologizes and disappears into the crowd. Will looks over his shoulder, and then towards Mike’s hand. “What?”

Will’s eyes were still looking down as Mike followed his gaze to where his hand was still on his lower back and his arm wrapped tightly around him. 

“Oh. Sorry.” He removes his hand. 

Will walks back in front of Mike, and Mike could see that his ears had gone red again. Mike stares for a few moments before speaking, “Seriously, are you sure you're not sick?”

Will makes a strangled noise. “Stop asking, I’m fine!”

Mike decides not to ask any further, it was probably safer than risking the wrath of Will when he was angry, and that wasn’t often. It was bad if you pissed him off because he would just explode. He would ignore you for days without telling you what he was doing or where he was going. That happened to him once, just once, and it was the worst days of his entire life because he begged Will not to leave him in the dark. 

They continued walking through the stalls when Mike almost runs into Will when he makes an abrupt halt a few feet down, they were near the market stalls. Will then stops in front of a baker, then a farmer selling spices, then a candle maker, and of course, the art stalls.

Forty minutes later, Mike is carrying two wrapped pastries, Will's cloak, a small pouch of dried herbs, a small lavender-scented candle, and a tiny jar of something that Will had insisted was incredibly rare despite the merchant having an entire shelf of them. He carried them all in the pouch at his belt, knowing exactly what happens at these kinds of events.

Mike looks down at himself. “This is ridiculous. You already got more things than last year.” 

Will grabs one of the pastries and begins eating it. “You offered.”

“You were struggling.”

“I had two bags.”

“Exactly, and I have my pouch that can fit three times that amount.”

“No it can’t. Plus, I have two hands, so give me my things.” Will motions for his things.

“No.” Mike moves the bag out of his reach.

“Mike.”

“You almost dropped the candle and your pastries.”

“Because you walked into me.” Will had his hands on his hips. He really thought he could pull a fast one on him as he tried reaching for the pouch but missed.

“You stopped walking,” Mike smirked as he continued to wave the pouch out of his reach, high enough where jumping still wasn’t enough for Will to reach.

“Because I saw something I wanted.”

“You always see something.”

Will reaches for the pouch when he lowers it toward his waist, but once again Mike moves it out of reach. “Stop. I'm carrying them.”

“I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own things.”

“I know.”

Will smiles and takes another bite of his pastry. “Fine.”

Five years ago, Mike had promised to carry what Will could not. He knew he meant wounds, or fear and grief at the time, but he was going to apply it to everything for the rest of his life if he could help it.

“Here, try this.”

Mike looks over, Will was holding the pastry toward him, two bites already taken out of it.

“No.”

“You haven't even tried it.”

“It's covered in sugar, plus you’re going to get it everywhere. Don’t get it on your nice robes.” Mike gestures towards his new robes.

“I don't get it everywhere.”

Will takes another bite, and now there was powdered sugar on Will's cheek. Mike stares at it and Will notices. “What?”

“Nothing.” Will narrows his eyes. Mike almost smiles because he understands why Will says that. It was irritating, but it was also fun. 

“You've got…” Mike gestures toward his own cheek. Will wipes the wrong side.

“No, the other side.” Will tries again and misses completely. Mike sighs, he adjusts the pouch on his waistband. “Hold still.”

“What are you—”

Mike brushes his thumb over Will's cheek. The sugar disappears beneath his glove. Will stops breathing, Mike could feel it as his hand stops too, resting on his cheek. Neither of them moves. 

For some reason, Mike swore he could feel Will’s cheek warm and tingle as they turn a slight shade of pink. He looks from Will's cheek to his eyes. Will's eyes were very green, Mike knew that, but in the lantern light it did something strange to them, maybe it was just the robes again. Yeah, it definitely was the robes that brought a different glow to his eyes. Mike drops his hand and clears his throat, “There.”

Will blinks and looks down at the floor shyly. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, anytime.”

There was an odd silence before Will speaks, “Just try it. Please.”

Mike looks at the pastry. “Fine.”

Will holds it out. Mike leans forward and takes a bite. Mike’s face immediately twists, and Will laughs.

“Too sweet.” Mike's face scrunches up, but he leans forward and takes another bite.

“You're still eating it.”

Mike realizes he has taken another bite right as his lips brush Will's fingers where he was holding the pastry. Will brings the tart back towards himself. “Hey, don't eat it all.”

“Whatever, shut up.”

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

They continue to walk through the crowds and stalls. They pass by musicians near the town’s fountain sometime later. Mike barely notices them, but Will does. He slows, and  Mike keeps walking until a tug on his cloak makes him stop. He turns around, and Will is looking toward the dancers, ready to open his mouth to say something, but Mike beats him to it. “No.”

Will looks at him. “I didn't even say anything.”

“You were about to.”

“How do you know that?” Will looks up at him through hooded eyes.

“You made a face.”

Will's eyebrows lift. “I have a dancing face now?”

“You have a face for everything.” Mike knows he does. It could be a face for being excited, or sleepy, or sad, or angry, and especially one for being hungry.

“Well, that’s convenient.”

Mike starts walking again, but Will catches his arm. “Come on, one dance.”

“No.”

“Mike, please.”

“I don't dance.”

“You know how.” Will tilts his head because he’s seen him dance, and it may not be great, but it’s always fun in the moment.

“Knowing how and willingly humiliating myself in front of the entire village are different things.”

“You danced at the harvest feast a few months ago.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

Mike opens his mouth, but he had no excuse, he couldn't remember why he danced then. Will smiles

“One dance.”

“No.”

“You’ve never danced with me at the lantern festival before. Please?”

“Absolutely not.”

Will looks at him. Mike hates when Will looks at him like that. Not because there was anything particularly threatening about it. It was simply the way he looked at him, the way he would get quiet, and the way those green eyes lured him into whatever they could force him to do.

Mike sighs. “You're unbearable.”

Will smiles. “Is that a yes?”

“No.”

Mike was dancing. He wasn't entirely sure how it had happened. One moment he'd been refusing. The next, Will's hand was in his, and Mike's other hand had somehow ended up at Will's waist. This was clearly a manipulation of some sort, clerical manipulation. “You definitely used your magic on me.”

“It doesn’t work like that, Mike.” Will laughs.

There had to be something in Will's religious texts forbidding this. Mike's lips curl into a smile as he stares at Will laughing.

“You're glaring,” Will murmurs.

“No, I’m concentrating.”

“On what?”

“On—uh—not stepping on you.” He quickly looks down at his feet.

“You've fought dragons before.”

“Dragons don't move like this,” Mike mutters, shuffling his feet, avoiding stepping on the ends of Will’s robes. 

Will laughs again and Mike looks at him. That seemed to be his first mistake, because the lantern light caught along the silver embroidery at Will's collar, and his hair had already started falling out of whatever arrangement he'd forced it into earlier, a few strands dropping across his forehead. His cheeks were pink from the cold or maybe from dancing. Will's hand rested against Mike’s shoulder, and Mike’s hands were around Will’s waist now. Mike could feel the texture of the blue robes under his fingertips, he tightened his grip on his waist and became abruptly aware of where his hands were and how they fit perfectly on Will’s figure.

The blue looks good on you.

Will caught him staring. “What?”

Mike looks away. “Nothing.”

Will smiles. “Now who's saying nothing?”

“Shut up.”

Will was still smiling, not the teasing smile from earlier, but something smaller. Suddenly, Mike's steps falter, and Will stumbles slightly. Mike catches him immediately, arm tightening around his waist. “Sorry.”

Will's hands land against Mike's chest. They freeze as the rest of the dancers continue moving around them. Mike looks down, while Will looks up. Will could feel Mike's heart beating strangely underneath his armor, probably because he'd nearly dropped him.

“You alright?” Mike asks.

Will nods. “Yeah.”

Mike doesn’t let go, and Will doesn’t move away, until someone bumps Mike from behind, breaking the moment. Will takes a step back and straightens out his robes with his free hand.

Mike clears his throat. “See?”

Will blinks. “See what?”

“It was a terrible idea.”

“You were doing fine.” Will’s face softens as he sees that Mike is a little upset that he couldn’t dance as well as he wanted to for him. “It was perfect for me. You did really well.”

“I almost killed you.”

“I don’t care, I just enjoyed the fact that you danced with me.”

The song ends, and Mike steps away, releasing Will's hand. “Happy now?” he asks.

Will smiles. “Very, thank you.”

Something warm settles in Mike's chest. He looks away quickly, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, good.”

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

The next stall was a game. Mike immediately regrets letting Will see it, they managed to bypass them last year. Rows of small wooden targets float above enchanted pedestals, moving unpredictably from side to side. Contestants were given three blunt throwing knives. The goal was to hit all three targets, and you would win a prize.

Will looks at Mike with pleading in his eyes.

“No.”

“I was just looking.”

"Well, keep looking.” Mike folds his arms across his chest.

Will's eyes move toward the prizes, and Mike slowly follows his gaze. The prizes were all dumb little trinkets, wooden animals, cheap jewelry, painted dolls, etc. Then Mike sees the exact moment when Will’s eyes light up as he looks at a small stuffed owlbear with uneven wings and a star wand, his favorite creature. Mike’s face drops. “Will, no.”

“Please, Mike, come on.”

“You want the owlbear, huh?”

Will looks at him. “How did you know?”

“I told you I know your faces.” Mike hands over some coins a few moments later. Will says nothing as Mike prepares to play the game.

“Three knives,” the merchant says. 

Mike picks them up and looks towards Will. He folds his arms and stands behind Mike. “You know, you don't actually have to win it.”

Mike looks offended. “Yes, I do.”

“Why?”

“Because you looked at the owlbear and now you've questioned whether I can actually win or not, and that’s the whole point of the game.”

“I didn't say that.”

“You implied it.”

Will scoffs, “I really didn't.” 

“Too late.” 

The first knife hits dead center. In quick succession, a second flies from his hand and strikes the exact same spot.

Will rolls his eyes. “Okay, show-off.”

Mike glances back at Will. “You know distracting the competitor is cheating.”

“You’re the one looking at me, Mike.”

Mike throws the third without turning around. It slams into the final target, splitting it clean down the middle. Will's mouth falls open, his cheeks reddening once again as Mike's glare pierces his soul. Mike grins, turns around, and points toward the prize. The merchant hands him the owlbear.

Mike immediately shoves it into Will's arms. “There.”

Will stares down at it, then up at Mike. “You actually won it for me?”

“You wanted it.” 

Will's expression softens, and Mike recognizes the same look from earlier. He still doesn’t quite understand what it means, but it warms his heart in some form. Will hugs the ridiculous-looking owlbear against his chest. “Thank you, Mike, I love it.”

“I know.”

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

The glass maker's stall comes next. By this point, Mike is carrying Will's cloak, herbs, pastries, the candle, the tiny jar, and somehow the stuffed owlbear because Will had handed it back to him ten minutes after insisting he wanted it.

“You are never allowed to complain about me carrying your things again.”

“I never complain.”

“You absolutely do.”

Mike nearly walks into Will as he stops in the middle of the street. “Oof, Will. Warn me if you’re going to stop next time.”

Will wasn't listening. There were tiny glass moons, suns, stars, and animals hung overhead from silver threads, turning slowly beneath the lantern light. Will reaches toward a small blue star edged in silver, lying on the display. He lifts it carefully, while light passes through the glass, scattering blue across his fingertips, it was a beautiful sight.

“Pretty,” Will murmurs.

“You own approximately four hundred things with stars on them.”

Will looks at him. “I do not.”

“You absolutely do.”

“I have maybe five.”

“Twelve, maybe more”

“Name them.”

Mike doesn’t hesitate as he starts listing them off, “Okay. The silver pendant you're wearing. The green glass one above your bed. The charm tied to your prayer book.”

Will just stares at Mike.

“Your new blue robes, your purple robes. The stitching on your winter cloak. There’s a wooden one on your staff. The one painted inside your travel chest. That little silver one you keep in your pouch. The one carved into the side of your—”

Mike stops. “What?”

“You remember all of those?” Will looks starstruck.

Mike frowns. “Obviously. I wasn’t done, let me finish.”

Will doesn’t care about the list anymore. “Why?”

Mike stares at him. Why wouldn't he remember? “Uh, because they're yours...”

Will goes quiet. That strange softness returns to his face. Mike shifts. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

“You've said nothing approximately a thousand times tonight.”

Will smiles. He turns the little star once over and checks the price. Mike sees his expression change slightly. Will then returns it to the table and smiles at the merchant as he walks away. “Come on.”

Mike looks down at the star and then towards where Will is walking away.

“Wait, you don't want it?”

Will was walking slowly away from the stall. “I have enough stars, apparently.”

Mike follows. They make it past two other stalls, then Mike stops. “Wait.”

Will turns. “What?”

“Stay here.”

“Why?”

“I forgot something.”

“What did you forget?”

“Just stay. Don't wander off.”

“I moved ten feet last time!”

Mike disappears into the crowd. He returns a few minutes later. A small pouch had appeared on his belt. Will's eyes immediately find it. “What’s that?”

“Nothing.” Mike stops. Damn it. He closes his eyes as his own voice echoes through his head from five years ago.

I will speak no lie to you, even when the truth is difficult to say.

Mike sighs. “Fine, It’s a star.”

Will looks back toward the stall they just left. “The one I was looking at?”

“No.”

Will waits, and Mike lasts approximately two seconds before he speaks the truth, “Yes.”

A smile spreads across Will's face. “You bought it for me?”

“You wanted it.”

“I could've bought it.” Will’s voice is soft.

“But you didn't.”

“Why?”

Mike frowns for the thousandth time that night, unsure why Will has been questioning his judgment lately like he’s been doing something wrong. “Because you wanted it.”

Will's smile softens once again, and Mike feels a strange twist in his gut. He looks away from him and out towards the town. “Can you stop?”

“What?”

Mike returns his gaze towards Will and points at him. “Looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” Mike gestures vaguely at him, “That.”

Will laughs, “Whatever, but thank you for getting that for me. That was very kind.” 

“Of course, anything for you.”

Will turns a little red at that before shaking his head as if to get rid of a thought. “Can I have it?”

“No.”

Will's smile vanishes. “What? Why not?”

“You can get it when we get home.”

“Ugh, rude but fine.”

They start walking again. Mike's hand brushes against the little pouch at his belt. He smiles without realizing it because little did Will know there was a matching yellow one he had bought as well, which complemented the blue one, they were a set. He knew he didn’t have to mention it, because it wasn’t really a lie and Will didn’t know. It was supposed to be a surprise anyway.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

They reached the lantern stall with a little over an hour until midnight. Mike sees it first, then Will does and his face glows with excitement. The elderly woman behind the table recognizes them immediately, her face brightens. “Oh, my favorite cleric.”

Will smiles.

“And his stubborn paladin.”

Mike groans and rolls his eyes.

“You're late this year,” The elderly woman states.

Mike points at Will. “His fault.”

Will looks offended. “My fault?”

“You stopped at every stall this year.”

“You bought half the things!”

“Yeah, for you!”

Will goes silent as Mike snaps his mouth shut. The woman behind the stall smiles in a way Mike does not appreciate. “What?”

“Nothing,” she says, smiling like she knew something he didn’t. Mike glares at her because apparently everyone had caught Will's disease tonight, including him, and it was getting to be too much. She hands Will a folded lantern and waves another toward Mike.

Mike crosses his arms. “Nope.”

“Come on, you still haven’t released one,” she said.

“Exactly. You know how this goes.”

“Perhaps this will finally be your year.”

“It won't.”

Will takes the second lantern from her, and Mike scoffs, “Traitor.”

“Take it.”

“I don't want it.”

“Take it, Mike.”

“Will.”

Will shoves it against Mike's chest and he grabs hold immediately. “I’m just carrying it, that’s it.”

“Sure. Maybe this year you'll write something too.”

“I don't have anything to wish for.” Mike shrugs.

Will looks at him, and his face saddens just a bit. “You just wish for the thing you want most.” 

Mike glances down at the folded lantern. “I know how wishes work, Will.”

“Well, you've never made one. Just try.”

Mike looks down at the lantern. It’s blank and just waiting for him to write something down. Will told him to wish for what he wants most, so he thinks about it as they stand in front of the lantern merchant and Will talks to the elderly woman.

Maybe a new sword? No, he liked his sword. How about more money or a nicer house? Nope, not that either. They had enough money, and the little cottage they shared was perfect. They had just moved in together last year because it was a lot easier to travel without making extra stops. Their little cottage had this cute—okay, that’s irrelevant right now. Go away thoughts. Wish… oh right, um, peace? No, everyone wanted peace. Okay, how about safety? Well, he kept them safe.

Mike glances over at Will standing right beside him, still speaking with the woman, his hands moving as he talks, especially when he was excited about something. The silver stars on his sleeves catch the light as the night nears midnight. Mike looks back down at the blank lantern and stops because nothing comes to mind of what he could possibly wish for. His life was good, and he had worked hard for everything they have. He puts his hand on Will’s shoulder. “I’m still thinking, but we’ll see if I can come up with something. I’ll try.” Will turns around and smiles brightly at Mike.

He doesn’t quite understand why Will is so happy just hearing him say he’ll try, but then again, there were apparently a lot of things happening tonight that Mike didn't understand.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

They find a quiet stretch of the canal as the noise of the festival is in the distance behind them. Will finds a low stone wall and sits down with his lantern resting across his knees. Mike drops down beside him, sitting close as their shoulders touch. Mike rests his lantern on his knees as well, he still hasn’t thought of anything to write, while Will has already dipped his quill, ready to write something on his own lantern. Mike tries to take a peek over his shoulder but instead just looks up at Will as the moon hits him just right. Will thinks Mike’s trying to look at his wish and immediately covers the paper with his hand. “Don't even think about it.”

“I wasn't looking.”

“You were.”

“I was actually looking at you.”

“Mhm, sure, still suspiciously close to my lantern.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Fine.” He turns his head dramatically toward the other side of the canal. “I won't look.”

“Thank you.” Will finishes dipping his quill and turns toward his lantern. He’s quiet for a few heartbeats as he stares at the ink at the tip of his quill, then begins tapping it on the side of his paper. Every year, at the festival, he had written something that he had wished the stars would grant someday. It made his heart ache because he knew they would never come true the way he truly wanted, but it never stopped him from trying.

The first year, he'd written–Keep him safe.

The second year–Let him always find his way home.

The third year–Let me remain beside him.

Then last year–Let him someday see me as I see him.

Now the fifth lantern sat across his knees. He knew what he wanted but didn’t know how to put it into words. Will looks towards Mike, he was staring out over the canal, still nothing written on his own lantern. This was his paladin who stood by his side always. This was his paladin who was stubborn, like the lantern merchant had said. But it was Mike who had remembered the moon flowers he wanted to see or suggested dinner beside the river with wine beneath the stars without apparently understanding what any of that sounded like. It was Mike who had wiped sugar from Will's face and still danced with him when he hadn’t wanted to. It was Mike who won him an owlbear and bought him a glass star because he'd looked at it for too long. It was Mike who remembered every star Will owned because ‘they're yours.’

Will closed his eyes, he was tired of disguising it, the truth. He needed to be brave like Mike and never lie even if the truth was difficult to say. So, for the fifth year he wrote down his wish on the lantern, five words that were more honest than he’s ever allowed himself to be.

To be loved by him.

Will stares down at his words, his heart beating painfully against his ribs. It was far to honest, maybe he should cross it out. He’s about to when all of a sudden Mike sighs so loudly it breaks Will out of his thoughts, and he clutches his lantern to his chest.

“I've got nothing.”

Will jumps. “What?”

Mike gestures toward his blank lantern. “Nothing.”

“Oh, you haven't written anything?”

“No. I told you. I don't need anything.” Will stares at him and Mike frowns again. “What did I do?”

“Nothing.”

“Gods.”

Will looks down before Mike could see his full expression. Will folds his lantern, making sure to hide the words inside. Mike nudges him, “So, you finally picked something?”

Will swallows as he pulls the lantern towards his chest. “Yes.”

“Can I see?”

“It's private.”

“I'm your paladin.” Mike pretends to pout like that would do anything.

“That does not entitle you to my wishes.”

“Seems like an oversight in the oath.”

Will laughs and Mike smiles as he asks him a question, “Your wish.” Mike nods towards the lantern clutched at Will’s chest. “Is it an important one?”

Will looks down at the lantern between his hands. “Yeah.”

Mike watches him for a moment. “Well, I hope you get it.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

Mike doesn’t hear him as the first bell begins to ring, signaling that midnight was nigh, and the Lantern send-off was getting close. The first bell echoes over the village and then a second rings out. All up and down the canal, conversations begin to quiet, music fades, merchants step away from their stalls, and everyone gathers along the bridges, stone walls, or the center of town as thousands of folded lanterns prepare to be sent into the night sky.

Mike looks toward the square. “Finally.”

The third bell rings, and they start heading to the main square, but still remaining near the canal away from the bigger crowds.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

By the time everyone else reached the main square, the village had fallen completely dark, the lanterns that were strung up were extinguished one by one. The midnight air seemed to hold its breath, preparing for the sky to ignite with a kaleidoscope of colors. Every lantern carried not only a specific hue tied to the wish written in ink on the fragile, aged paper, but also an ancient magic flame that allowed the lanterns to lift into the air. Mike had never understood exactly how it worked, even after Will tried to explain it once. All he knew was first, write a wish, then light it with ancient magic, pray your wish comes true, next send it into the sky, and most importantly, don’t read anyone else’s wish. 

The crowd turns toward the memorial square. Mike tries not to think about what happened all those years ago in that very square, but five years hadn't changed his memory. Mike could still see it, the moment Will turned as a blade rose behind him as he screamed ‘WILL!’ Mike's hand tightens around his lantern as Will turns toward him, staring softly. “You're doing your thinking face,” Will says quietly.

“Doing what?”

“Going somewhere else.”

Mike looks away. “I’m right here.” Mike exhales. “Just remembering.”

Will's expression softens. “Yeah, me too.”

Mike glances at him, and he doesn’t see the blue robes anymore, he sees torn fabric, blood and Will’s pleading—’come on…open your eyes’—Mike blinks and the memory disappears and everything fades back into view.

The fourth bell rings. The crowd falls completely silent as an elderly priestess steps onto the stone platform to deliver the ceremonial lantern speech, she lifts one hand. “Five years ago, darkness fell among this land. And now, we remember those who stood and gave their lives for us, and to those who will tell their stories of bravery for years to come. And tonight, as we have every year since, we honor what was lost not by surrendering ourselves to grief, but by carrying hope forward.” 

The priestess raises her lantern. “May what you wish into the heavens tonight carry what your hearts cannot. May the wishes spoken only to the stars find their way toward the light.”

The priestess lowers her lantern and begins to light it. The entire village moves as thousands of flames ignite all at once. Mike has seen it four times, and it catches him off guard every time. He may not like coming to these things, but that doesn’t mean it’s not breathtakingly beautiful to see the lanterns light up and the glow be spread across everyone’s faces. 

Will touches two fingers to the base of his lantern, a small spark of silver and gold magic jumps from his fingertips. The flame catches inside, and Mike watches as the light spreads across Will's face, the blue of his robes, the silver little stars, and the green in his eyes pop. Mike looks away quickly, feeling a strange twist in his stomach. His own lantern was still dark.

Will notices. “You're not lighting it?”

“It's blank.”

“You could still send it.”

“Why?”

“Maybe the Gods will know what you want.” Will shrugs and looks to the heavens. “Come on.”

Mike sighs. He touches his lantern to Will's flame, and it catches immediately. The warm light glows throughout his blank lantern. Mike stares at the empty space.

“You really wrote nothing?” Will speaks softy.

“I told you, I couldn’t think of anything.” Mike sighs, unsure what else to say.

“Not even something stupid?” Will suggests.

“What would qualify as stupid?”

“A new sword.”

“I like my sword.”

“A better horse.”

Mike looks offended. “Don't let Matilda hear you say that.”

The fifth bell rings out around them, and the village people begin to release their lanterns. They let go as they push them into the sky, floating up out of the square, above rooftops and towers as they slowly float into the night. People cheer as their wishes get sent off, hoping they come true.

Will steps closer to Mike as the people around them begin to crowd the space, his shoulder touches Mike's as he nudges him to get ready to release their lanterns. Will stares at his lantern like he’s nervous to let it go.

Mike's brows pull together. “You know, if you wish for my untimely death, you're supposed to wait until after I release mine.”

Will laughs despite himself. “I didn't and I wouldn’t.”

“Good.”

“Your death would make my life considerably more difficult.”

Mike smiles and winks softly. “How romantic.”

Will nearly drops his lantern as Mike catches the bottom, their hands touch, the joking disappears, and Will just breathes shallowly. “You know, it's just a lantern,” Mike says, and he moves his hand back to his own lantern. 

Will looks down at his lantern one last time. There were five words hidden inside, and Mike didn’t know what they were. He would never know. He didn’t know last year or the years before, just like it was supposed to be, but he just wished Mike knew how he felt at least, but he was too scared to say anything directly. 

Will took one last look at his words and opened his hand, releasing the lantern as it rose slowly into the sky, the magical current catching and lifting it into the air.

Mike looks toward his own lantern and releases it. The blank lantern immediately lifts, then tilts sideways.

Will laughs. “Oh, that's promising.”

“It's figuring itself out.”

“Yours is about to hit a roof.” Will points out.

It does, and Mike flinches as he sees his lantern bounce off a chimney, twirl around, straighten itself out, and continue floating up into the night sky. “Shut up.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“You were going to.”

“Well, what I was going to say was, it suits you.”

Mike looks at him as Will laughs softly. “You're lucky you're pretty, you would never make it in the comedic world.”

Will's smile vanishes, and they stare at each other. Mike isn't entirely sure why he said that without thinking twice, and just as he’s about to say something, he notices Will's face turn bright red. He smiles, despite not understanding why.

Just then, the wind changes suddenly, and a gust of air strong enough to send banners flapping everywhere makes several people shout as lanterns dip and spin sideways. The enchantments on the flames immediately straighten them out, except for one. A blue-and-yellow lantern drops from the sky, heading towards them and the canal. 

Mike sees it coming toward them before anyone else notices. “Watch out!”

He pulls Will in by the waist just as the lantern flies past his shoulder and drops towards the water’s edge. 

Will turns towards where the lantern drifts and his face changes. He shouts, “Wait!”

Mike doesn’t really hear him as he is already in motion, trying to save the lantern. And yeah, just because he doesn’t like these festivals doesn’t mean he wouldn’t do anything to help save and protect the event for others to enjoy, he wasn’t a monster. 

While in motion, he lets go of Will, lunges toward the stone railing overlooking the canal, and leans over just as the lantern skims the surface. He snatches the lantern, leaning a bit too far as Will yells, “Mike!”

His fingers catch on the railing, snagging the end of the lantern, and Will grabs the back of Mike’s armor, pulling him backward. “Gods, are you insane?”

Mike laughs. “I got it.”

“You almost ended up in the canal.”

“Still got it. Someone's wish fell so I had to go save it.” Mike shrugs as he shakes the water droplets off the lantern. 

Will's hand remains clutched around his armor, and Mike lifts the lantern up. “See, I saved—” He stops talking, and Will stops moving, because Mike looks down at the lantern and recognizes the handwriting immediately, his stomach drops. It’s Will’s lantern. Of course it is, out of everyone’s that fell, it was Will’s. The paper was partially crinkled, but he could still see the words that were written on the bottom, highlighted by the glow of the lantern’s magic. 

Mike immediately turns away. “I didn't—” His eyes catch the words in black ink, not intentionally, but he saw them. 

To be loved by him.

Mike looks up and sees Will staring at the lantern, then back up at Mike. Horror was written across his face as he speaks, “You didn't.”

Mike's mouth goes dry. “I—” He goes completely still, the festival noises disappear instantly as he thinks of those words briefly. To be loved by him.

It wasn't a question, not really, and Mike couldn't answer anyway, and that was enough to make Will's face drain of color. “Mike.”

“I didn't mean to, Will. I’m so sorry.”

“Give it to me.”

“Will—”

“Give it to me, Mike.”

Mike immediately holds it out, and Will takes it. Their fingers don’t brush, and Will takes a few steps back. Mike notices and frowns slightly. He hadn’t meant to look, it all happened so quickly. 

“Will, I swear I just caught it, and then I looked down. I wasn't trying to read it.”

“I know.”

“I looked away, I promise.” He was pleading now.

“I know.” Will nods. “It's fine.”

It very clearly was not fine. Mike wants to fix it somehow, but is unsure how, so he said what he thought was best. “I won't ask. Whoever it is. I won't ask.” 

Something passes across Will's face, and Mike’s not sure what it means. “Your wish is still private.”

Will laughs softly, but with no real humor in it. “Not entirely.”

Mike winces as his feet kick the dirt and rocks in the ground beneath his feet.

Will looks toward the sky and releases his lantern once more. It floats faster now, rising into the night, as if it was trying to run away from the moment that just occurred. Mike watches it rise, Will does not. He turns away, speaking over his shoulder, “I'm going to get a drink.”

Mike’s shoulders drop. “Okay.”

Will starts walking, and of course Mike begins to follow.

Will stops. “No, I’m going alone.”

Mike stares, stunned at what just left Will’s lips. “I’m coming with you.”

“I need a minute, alone.”

Something in Will's voice stops him. Mike goes quiet. “Oh.”

Mike looks toward the crowd and the center of town before returning his gaze towards Will. His every instinct told him to follow, the oath practically screaming at him to go. I will return to your side, always. I guess that didn’t always mean to follow wherever he went, even though that’s what he always did. So he nods and lets Will leave. 

Will's shoulders loosen as he begins the walk towards the tavern across the way. 

“I'll be by the fountain,” Mike shouts out.

“You don't have to tell me where you'll be,” Will shouts back.

“I know,” Mike says softly.

Will turns around. “Still glad you did.” Will looks at him for a beat, giving him a look that reads he’s hurt, and Mike knows that look well enough to leave him alone. Will turns back and walks into the building, head hung low.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Mike lasts four minutes, not that he follows Will into the tavern, but four minutes before he bursts because the words from the lantern begin to eat him alive. To be loved by him. Mike sat on the edge of the fountain, staring down at the cobblestone path. He began to think of who this ‘Him’ was. It was somebody Will loved, someone who he made a wish on and sent into the sky. That is what irritated him because he knew everything about Will, knew what he wanted, what he liked. So how did he not know about this, about some person that was important enough to Will that he made his wish about them, someone Will didn’t feel comfortable enough telling him about. 

Mike frowns, because who could he possibly be? The moment he asked himself that question, he hated it, because he didn’t want to know the answer, not really. Maybe it was someone from their past, from when they traveled together, maybe it was someone in town. Will knew everyone. Maybe it was someone from his temple, people always talked to him after ceremonies or after missions they took, especially that one cleric.

Thomas?

Tobias?

Tyler?

It was definitely something annoying, a name he knew he never liked for some reason, but he couldn’t put a reason as to why that was. Maybe tonight was the reason why, well not actually, because he didn’t like them before tonight since they either stood too close to Will or put their hands on his arm when they laughed. Just thinking about them made his jaw tighten, because Tobias was a strong possibility of who this Him was, or was it Thomas, ugh. Was it Tyler that they met during their third lantern festival together, he was the blacksmith's son right? Or was that Carlton, he couldn’t remember anymore, there were too many eyes on Will, and that was already one too many than Mike would have liked. 

Mike hated that he felt this way because what if one of those guys was this Him that Will was talking about in his wish? He shook his head and put his head into his hands as he leaned forward.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Mike jerks up. It was the lantern seller, she stood just a few feet away in front of him.

He frowns. “No, actually.”

She smiles. “Yeah, I could have guessed that.” She sits beside him.

Mike looks towards her. “Do you know everyone in this village?”

“I believe I do. Why?”

“Do you know a cleric named Tobias?”

She blinks.

“Tobias?”

“Dark hair. Tall. Annoying.”

“I know several men matching that description.” Her eyes flick up and down at Mike.

Mike’s face drops. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason.”

Mike sighs. “Never mind then, forget I asked.”

The lantern woman studies him for a moment, a knowing smile forms at her lips before she speaks, “Did you make a wish tonight, Paladin?”

Mike glances toward the sky, because somewhere among the thousands of glowing lanterns that were still floating slowly towards the heavens was his own, completely blank.

“No.”

“No?”

“I sent the lantern up.”

“That's not what I asked.”

Mike drops his head, lips frowning. “I didn't really have anything to wish for.” Something shifts in her expression that makes Mike’s face twist. “What?”

She only smiles back. “Just remember, Paladin, the thing about wishes is they fall exactly where they're meant to.”

Mike stares at her. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll figure it out.” She gives him a wink and walks away.

“For the love of the gods.”

Mike stares after her, and then he looks toward the crowd. Will isn’t back yet, and he had given him the time he had asked for, but if he was being honest, it seemed a bit too long already. Then, he spots Will outside of the tavern, near a different stall. He sits back down to observe and sees Will talking with a tall, dark-haired, man. “Oh, you've got to be kidding me.”

Could that be Tobias or maybe it was Thomas, or Tyler? Whatever. Mike watched as the man smiled at Will, and he smiled back. His stomach twists again, god he was so irritated. The man leans closer to say something over the music. They were closer than was necessary, and Mike hated that, which was ridiculous to be honest. Will laughs with the man and others who have gathered around.

Then the man touches Will's arm. Mike stands, and then he sits right back down because what the hell was he doing. His own behavior began to concern him. Maybe he was the one who had a fever. After several minutes had passed, Mike hears Will laugh from across the square. He looks up as the man he was with gestures toward the dancers and the music.

Mike's entire body goes rigid. There was absolutely no way that was happening. The man that was standing in front of Will offers his hand to him. Mike stares because earlier in the night they had danced and Mike had Will’s hand in his. It was small and warm, and they curled around his own. Mike looks away, but he looks back up, not wanting to miss a single moment of this interaction. Across from him in the square, Will looks down at the offered hand and shakes his head. Mike freezes.

The man says something else, and Will smiles apologetically. The man shrugs and walks away, and that gives Mike a rush of relief. He quickly looks away and busies himself with whatever he can find.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

It’s not until Will finds him about ten minutes later, that Mike had begun to pace back and forth by the fountain, waiting. Mike was staring at absolutely nothing while his brain replayed the same collection of images and the words from tonight— To be loved by him. Mike hated whoever Him was, they didn’t deserve Will. That seemed unfair because maybe Mike didn’t know Him, he could be nice, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Mike?”

He looks up.

Will was standing in front of him holding two cups. Mike's brain stops working, but not for the reason Will thinks. “Uh, hi.”

Will blinks. “Hi?”

Mike closes his eyes. Why had he said hi? They saw each other maybe thirty minutes ago.

Will holds out one of the cups. “I brought you cider.”

Mike takes it. “Thanks.”

Will gestures for Mike to sit, and Will sits beside him. Mike lasts maybe ten seconds before he gives in. “Who was that?”

Will looks up at him. “What?”

“The one talking to you.”

Will's eyebrows lift. “Elias?”

Elias. That’s his name, of course his name was Elias. “Oh. I don't know him.”

“You've met him.”

“When?”

“He's the one who brought us bread when you were injured last winter.” Will laughs quietly and then takes a sip of his cider.

“That was him?”

“Yes.”

Mike looks into his cider. “So. Elias. What did he want?”

Will's eyes narrow. “You're being strange, and you’re glaring.”

“No, I’m not.”

Mike relaxes his face as he sighs. “He asked you to dance?”

Understanding crosses Will's face. “Oh. Yeah, he did.”

Mike's fingers tighten around his cup.

“I said no.”

“Why?”

Will stares at him and Mike stares back. The answer mattered far more than it had any right to, so when Will responds, it loosens a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I already danced tonight.”

Mike's heart does something stupid as he tries not to smile when he looks away. “Oh.”

Will notices, of course he does. He laughs. “What?”

“Nothing.” Will's eyebrows raise, and Mike smiles now. “Now I get why you do it.”

“Do what?”

“Say nothing.”

They laugh, and for approximately five seconds, everything feels normal again. That is until Mike remembers the lantern, To be loved by him, and his smile fades. Elias wasn't him. That’s good. Wait, why was that good? Mike glares into his cup.

“You're glaring again.”

“What?”

“Thinking so loudly I can practically hear it.”

Mike snorts. “I don't think loudly.”

“You absolutely do.”

Mike looks at him, Will smiles, and there it was again, that stupid twist in his stomach. Mike's gaze drops to Will's mouth for half a second before he looks away so quickly his neck almost cracks. What the hell is happening? He stands abruptly.

Will startles. “Where are you going?”

“Walk.”

“Okay?”

Mike takes three steps and turns around. “You coming?”

Will blinks and laughs. “You just stood up as if the fountain just offended you, but sure, yeah. I’ll come.”

They start through the crowd, walking side by side, close again, that was good, better if he was being honest. Mike immediately hated that his brain replaced that word, because better made him sound insane.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

The festival was beginning to thin out as families with young children headed home, while musicians continued to play for those brave enough to stay until the sun rose. The lanterns were drifting farther into the night, some of them barely just spots in the sky that now look like stars.

Will walked beside him quietly, yet Mike’s mind echoed loudly with thoughts. He thought of his oath, Will’s wish, their dance, Elias, the glass star, the river, the moon-flowers, and the dinner with wine. ‘Just us?’ ‘Who else would come?’ Mike slows. Wait, dinner by the river, wine, the moon-flowers. Shit. Mike’s eyes widen, that sounds like a… No, that can’t be right. He keeps walking.

Will glances over.“You alright?”

“Uh, yeah, fine.”

“You look alarmed.”

“I’m not.” Mike was definitely  alarmed. Had he suggested a date? No, he was just suggesting things they could do besides the festival, things they did as friends, not like he did those things with anyone else. He and Will did a lot of things Mike wouldn’t with other people, like travel, share rooms, move in together, spend every second practically with each other.

Mike knew how Will took his tea or that he couldn’t sleep if the window was open. He knew that Will rubbed his wrist if he was nervous, and didn’t like thunderstorms, but wouldn’t admit that. He also knew that Will loved to share things and would give away his blanket and then complain about being cold, but he wouldn’t really admit that either. Mike knew Will loved sweets and the crusts of sandwiches. He knew Will had more than twelve things with stars on them because they were his favorite. He knew Will.

Mike's stomach drops. To be loved by him. A thought arrives quietly, what if it was me? He stops walking. Why would it be him? Because Will was…well, Will and Mike was… just Mike. Will would've told him, if it was him, right? Except apparently Will had been hiding this person for gods knew how long. Mike glances up at Will, who was still walking. What if he was the Him?

Something happens in Mike's chest, it’s not panic it’s something almost brighter. Hope. He gasps loudly.

Will hears and realizes Mike’s not beside him and turns, “Mike?”

Mike stares at him. Hope. He definitely was feeling hope, and that was terrifying. 

Will approaches. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You don't look okay.” Will frowns. “You're pale.”

“I'm always pale.”

“Not like this.” Will lifts his hand toward Mike's forehead, and Mike almost laughs because he had done the same thing earlier, except Mike lets Will's fingers touch his skin. Mike forgets how to breathe for a moment while Will looks confused. “You don't feel warm.”

Mike stares at him. “No.”

Will's hand remains there, and Mike's heart slams against his ribs. Will notices something in his expression, and he drops his hand slowly. “What’s wrong?”

Mike swallows. “Nothing.” He really picked up that word today. He turns. “Come on.”

“Wait, where are we going?” Will questions.

Mike didn't know yet. “Away from here.”

“Very specific, Mike. Thank you.”

Mike starts walking, and Will follows. The oath-taking turns, especially tonight, was not in the manual of oath do’s and don'ts, and that scared him for some reason. 

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

They eventually wander beyond the busiest part of the village, where the old road curved along the hillside and overlooked the rooftops below. From there, the festival looked almost unreal. Lanterns still filled the sky, with different shades of gold, purple, blue, whatever color you could think of scattered across the black sky, the village glowing. Mike leans against a low stone wall beside Will, and it’s quiet for a moment. Mike needed the silence because his brain wouldn’t stop doing whatever it had decided to do tonight.

Five years ago, Mike had knelt before Will and made an oath. Back then, everything had felt simple. Will was his cleric, and he was his paladin. Will healed people, and Mike protected them. Except somewhere along the way, Mike had started carrying Will's bags even when he wasn't tired or remembered everything Will pointed out in the village stalls. He would check whether he'd eaten or bought him stars to add to his collection. He started dancing with him and hating men named Elias for absolutely no reason. The oath explained why he'd take a blade for Will or why he would always return to his side, but it didn't explain why he'd been disappointed when Will's hand left his after their dance or that he memorized the way he breathed, and it definitely didn't explain why the possibility of Will's wish being about him had filled his chest with hope.

Mike looks over. Will was watching the sky. “Will.”

“Hm?”

Mike almost asked, Was it me? The words reached his throat, and then stopped, because suddenly Mike didn’t want to know. That realization terrified him more than anything else had. “Nevermind.”

“Tonight’s been weird.” 

Mike swallows. “Yeah.”

“Good, weird?”

Mike thinks about it. “No idea.”

Will shivers, only slightly, but Mike notices every little thing that Will does. “Cold?”

“No.”

“You just shivered.”

“I’m fine.”

Mike immediately unfastens his cloak. Will sighs, “Mike. You're going to be cold.”

“I have armor.”

“Since when is metal known for being warm?”

Mike ignores him and drapes the cloak around Will's shoulders, and Will grabs the edges and pulls it tight around himself. “You don't have to do that.”

“I know.”

“I have my own cloak, you’re just holding it.”

“I know.” The words left Mike before he really thought about them, like they always did. 

Will looks down at the cloak, which almost drowns him, but it does make him warmer. “You know the oath doesn't require you to do everything for me.”

Mike's heart skips a beat. “I know.”

“Or make you carry everything I buy.”

“I know.”

“Or follow me every time I leave a room.”

“I know.”

“You don't have to buy me things.”

“I know.”

“You don't have to—”

“I know, Will.” Will stops. Mike's voice softens as he repeats the words, “I know.”

Will looks at him, and it makes Mike's pulse quicken because there it was right in front of him. The truth. He swore five years ago never to hide from the truth even when it was difficult to say, however he wasn't ready in that moment, so Mike looks out past the village. “Come on.”

Will doesn’t move. “Where?”

Mike glances toward a dark road leading beyond the village, and then it hits him, and he smiles. “You wanted to see the moon-flowers, right?

Will stares in awe. “What?”

“You said they're only open for a few nights, you said it months ago.”

“Once.”

“Several times.”

“Once.”

Mike holds out his hand, and Will looks down, not sure what to do. “What about the festival?”

Mike glances toward the lanterns. “We've seen it.” Mike keeps his hand extended. “Come on.” Slowly, Will places his hand in his. Mike's fingers close around his, warm and familiar, but now it was different. They start walking down the road, hand in hand. Mike tells himself it’s because it's dark, the ground is rocky, it’s safer this way, and it’s his oath, his duty. All the same excuses he'd apparently been giving himself for years.

Except this time, when Will's thumb brushes absentmindedly across the back of his hand, Mike stops believing any of them, and somewhere above them, among thousands of wishes drifting into the night, five little words wait for Mike to finally understand what they mean.

The moon-flowers grew beyond the last row of houses. Will had pointed them out once a few months ago when they walked home one evening, saying that they only opened beneath a clear night sky, and that seemed to be tonight.  Mike remembers that fact as they leave the village behind. Eventually, the only glow came from the moon overhead and the scattered lanterns drifting high above the rooftops behind them.

Mike was still holding Will's hand. He became increasingly aware of that with every step, but neither of them said anything. Will's fingers fit easily between his. They had held hands before, when he pulled him onto horses, or dragged him away from collapsing ruins, and held his wrist while Will healed him. Five years ago, he'd taken that same hand while kneeling in the dirt and sworn his life to him.

So this shouldn't have felt different, but it did, tremendously. 

“You're quiet.” Will was watching him.

Mike looks down at the rocks in the road. “Just thinking.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Very funny.” Mike glances sideways at Will and then quickly looks away again.

“What about?”

Mike's grip tightens slightly around Will's hand before he realized it, so he loosens it. “Nothing.”

Will laughs softly. “You've really picked that up tonight.”

“I know.” Mike looks at him and wants to ask again. Was it me? The question had followed him out of the village and hid behind every thought. Every time Will looked at him, or when their hands moved together, he would remember those five words. To be loved by him. Mike swallows because he could ask and Will would probably answer, he never was good at lying. But Mike wanted one specific answer, and that might have been the problem. 

They walked a little farther, the path curving around the hillside. Will stops short, pulling Mike back a little. Mike almost asks why, but then he sees why—the moon-flowers. There were hundreds of them covering the slopes in clusters, their petals fully opened beneath the night sky, silver-white with faint blue veins running through them like tiny rivers of light. Somewhere inside each flower, magic shimmered, enough that it looked like pieces of the moon were attached to them. 

Will's fingers tighten around Mike's. “Oh, my Gods.”

Mike looks at Will and smiles because he was already smiling. That smile—the same smile he had apparently spent half his life with Will doing stupid things just to see it form on his face. “Worth missing the festival?”

Will glances over. “We didn't miss it, but yes.”

Mike's chest warms. “Good.”

Will laughs and kneels, reaching toward one of the flowers. The petals brighten beneath his fingertips, silver light climbs over his skin, and Mike stops breathing for a second. Healing magic had always looked like that, but Will's magic was brighter, warmer, and the flowers were reflecting it somehow.

Five years ago flashed in his mind again. Of bloodied hands and fading magic. Mike looks away and Will catches it.

“Hey.” Will stands, and Mike helps lift him up since they never let go of each other’s hands just yet. “You went somewhere again.” Will's smile fades. “The battle?”

Mike nods, and for a moment they say nothing. Mike looks down at his own hand as the moonlight casts a faint shadow of light across it. What he remembers is his hands covered in his own blood, and Will’s and everyone else’s that he tried to protect that night. The healer always had the bloodiest hands, he thought, but tonight as he looks at Will’s, there was nothing but silver light glowing from his palms, and Mike liked that version better.

“A little hard not to tonight,” Will says. He touches one of the flowers again. “You know what I remember?”

Mike looks at him now. “What?”

“You, yelling my name.” Mike’s stomach drops. “I didn't even know what was happening. I heard you, turned around, and then…” he trails off. “You were on the ground.”

“Sorry.” Mike didn’t know what to say, and that’s all he could really think of anyway.

Will looks at him. “That's all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?” Mike shrugs as he turns fully toward Will.

“That you'd never do it again.”

Mike opens his mouth, and Will immediately points at him, dropping their joined hands. “And don't lie.”

“I'd do it again,” Mike admits. Will's expression falls. “But…” Will waits as Mike steps closer. “I'd try really hard to find another option first.”

Will looks down at the flowers and doesn’t say anything for a while. He takes a step away from him. “You scared me.”

Mike's smile fades because he remembers that even though he was barely hanging on, he could still feel Will’s breath as he knelt over him, pushing all his magic out and into him as tears streamed down his eyes. He knew how Will felt, but hearing it still hurt. 

“You've scared me plenty of times since then, don’t get me wrong.” Will was struggling with his words, but he continued to let it out. “But you keep getting hurt and acting like it's nothing because you survived.”

Mike looks down. “Surviving is generally the goal.”

“That's not what I mean.” Will turns around toward him. “You treat your life like it's worth less than everyone else's.”

Mike's brows pull together. “I don't.”

“You do, Mike.”

“I protect people,” Mike explains.

“And it almost killed you.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Will's voice softens. “I don't think you understand what that does to me.”

Something in Mike's chest pulls tight. The words from Will’s lantern flash across his mind, To be loved by him. Mike looks at Will, really looks because clearly there was something Will wasn’t saying and Mike could feel that, always had been able to. He simply hadn't known what that feeling was, and he was trying to find out. “Then tell me. What does it do to you?”

Will shakes his head as he takes a step away off to the side. Mike watches Will think. “I thought you were going to die.” Will stops, and his throat moves. “And I couldn't…” Mike takes a step closer to him, but Will takes a step back.

“You couldn't what?” Mike was trying to get Will to look at him now.

Will laughs under his breath. “Gods, Mike. You really know how to make everything difficult.” Will looks at him as his eyes begin to fill with tears. “I couldn't imagine what came after.”

Mike's breath catches. “What do you mean?”

“If you died,” Will says it quietly. “If you didn't get back up. If my magic wasn't enough.” Mike doesn’t speak. “I know you're my paladin.”

Mike frowns. “That doesn't—”

“And I know what you swore.”

“Will.”

“But sometimes I wish you hadn't.”

Mike's expression falters. He hadn’t expected that to hit him that hard. He hangs his head low and speaks softly, “You wish I hadn't made the oath.”

“Not like that.”

“Then how?”

Will slowly moves closer and Mike lifts his head. “I wish you didn't think it meant you had to die for me.”

“The oath says—”

“I know what the oath says,” Will's voice cracks. “I was there.”

Mike remembers Will's hand in his, tears on his face, and then, ‘You better live long enough to keep it.’ 

Will's voice softens, “I meant that, you know. When I told you to live long enough to keep it.” Will looks away as he wipes away a tear. “I wasn't lying. I just—I just didn't want your dying breath.” Mike's heart stumbles as Will looks back at him. “I wanted all the ones after it.”

Mike forgets how to breathe as the words sit in the air between them. Will seems to realize exactly what he says, and his eyes widen. That sudden, vulnerable look on Will's face instantly triggers something deeper inside Mike. It sends a completely different set of words rushing back into his mind, hitting him heavy in the chest: To be loved by him.

Mike's pulse quickens. “Will…”

Will takes a step away. “We should head back.”

“What?”

“It's getting late.” Will turns toward the path and quickly starts walking away. “Come on.”

Mike doesn't move, he just calls out, “Will.”

Will stops walking at the sound of his voice, and Mike's heart hammers. Just say it, ask the question, or you’ll never get your answer, and you’re going to regret it. “Were you talking about me?”

Will's back goes rigid, but he doesn’t turn around. Mike swallows. “The lantern, when you wrote…” He couldn't bring himself to repeat those five words, suddenly private. He lowers his voice, “Was it about me?”

Will stands completely still. Finally, Will turns, and his face gives nothing away. Great. “Why?”

Mike frowns. “What?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I…” Mike had expected a yes-or-no, not that. Why? Because he'd spent the entire night thinking about it, because he hated Elias, because Will said no when being asked to dance, because he wanted Him to be him so badly that he'd been afraid to ask. Mike looks at Will again. “I don't know.”

Will's expression is still unreadable. “Then don't ask.” He turns away.

Mike's stomach drops. “Wait. Will.” He starts walking after him.

“You said you don't know.”

“That doesn't mean I don't want to know.”

Will stops abruptly. He turns around, and Mike can see there's a flash of anger and something worse, hurt, thrown across his face. “Why does it matter? You read something you weren't supposed to read.”

“I know. I just don't like not knowing.”

“That's not my problem,” Will utters.

“I know.”

“Then leave it alone.”

“I can't.” Mike feels helpless now. He wants to know, but he doesn’t. He also doesn’t want to hurt Will, and it looks like asking is hurting him.

“Why?”

There it was again. Why? Mike's answer flew out of his mouth before the words reached his brain. “Because I hated watching Elias ask you to dance.” Will blinked, not expecting that answer. Mike keeps going before his brain does catch up to what he’s saying. “I hated thinking it might be him or that healer.”

“Elias is a healer.”

“No, the other one or that knight.”

“We’ve met lots of knights.”

Mike drags a hand through his hair. “That's not the point. The point is I hated all of them.”

Will goes very quiet and stands as stiff as a board.

Mike's breathing speeds up as he was just spewing out words. “I kept trying to figure out who you meant, and every person I thought of made me angry. And then Elias asked you to dance, and I wanted to throw him into the fountain.”

“You wanted to throw a healer into a fountain because he asked me to dance?” A tiny smirk tugs at Will's lips as his stiff posture gives way slightly.

“Yes.”

“Mike…”

“I know! I know. But when you said no…” his voice softens. “I was glad, really glad.”

“Why?”

Mike looks at him helplessly. “I’m getting there. Let me figure it out.”

Will's eyes widen at that statement, and Mike looks shy now. “Don't look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Will chuckles softly.

“Like you're waiting for me to solve a riddle.”

“I've been waiting five years.”

They both freeze. Mike's pulse roars in his ears. “Five years?”

Will looks away. “Forget I said that.”

“No, you can't say something like that and then—”

“I can do whatever I want.”

“Five years?”

“Stop.”

“Will.” Mike's heart was trying to escape his chest. “The other wishes.” Will's face changed, and then it clicked for Mike. “The other lanterns.”

“Mike.”

“The first year, were they…” Mike can barely breathe. “Were they about the same person?”

Will closed his eyes, and that’s when Mike knew for certain. He knew before Will answered, but he had to hear it for himself.

“Yes.” 

One word and everything shifted. Mike stared at Will like the heavens just opened up. He takes a deep breath and swallows. “All of them?”

Will looks at him. “Yes.” For the last five years, he made five wishes, all about the same person.

Mike's voice comes out quieter, “What did you wish for?”

Will shakes his head. “I'm not telling you. They are private.” Will folds his arms; something has changed between them, and Mike is actually starting to see it.

He takes one step closer to Will. “Was it me?”

Will doesn’t move, so Mike waits.

Will's eyes search his face for something. “For all of them?”

Mike's breath catches because that wasn’t a no. He nods. Will looks down, and Mike could hear both of them just breathing for a few moments. The air seemed to have been sucked out of the space they were occupying.

“The first year…” Will's voice is quiet. “I wished you'd stay safe.” Mike's chest tightens again. “The second year, I wished you'd always find your way home.” Mike stares deeply into Will’s eyes even though Will was not looking back. “The third year…” Will smiles faintly at the ground. “I wished I could stay beside you.” Mike's fingers twitch at his side. 

“And last year?” Mike couldn’t help himself as the question left his lips.

Will finally looks up, hesitantly. “That you'd see me the way I see you.” Will forces a small smile, though his eyes remain sad. “So yes.”

Mike goes still, there it was, the answer he was hoping for, no room left to misunderstand. 

Will's eyelashes flutter as he speaks quietly, the words almost drifting away in the gentle breeze. “It was you, it’s always been you.”

Mike can’t breathe. The night disappears around him because for five years Will had been wishing for him, about him. Mike looks at Will, and he looks terrified. Why did he look terrified? Mike had to say something—anything, but his mouth utters no sound. 

Will laughs quietly. “Great.”

“Will—” 

He starts walking, but Mike catches his wrist, and he stops. Mike loosens his grip. “Please, don’t go.”

Will looks down at Mike's hand and back up to his eyes. “Why?”

Mike wasn’t sure how to explain that the thought of Will walking away suddenly felt unbearable. “I need a minute.”

Will gives a small, breathless laugh that sounds entirely broken and brittle. “You've had five years.”

“Well, apparently I’m slow.” Mike lets go of Will’s wrist, he doesn’t leave. Good. He does, however, make space between them, no longer standing so close. Mike takes a deep breath, then he tries to understand the impossible thing before him. He waits for panic to arise or fear, but nothing comes. Instead, underneath the shock, that same warmth returns from earlier that night, hope. Only now, there wasn’t hope that it was him, it was a fact. It was true. The wish was about him. Will wanted to be loved by him. And all the years before, the same wish; apparently Will had loved him for years, and it was right under his nose.

Mike looks down at the grass. “Oh.”

Will's eyebrows pull tightly together. “Oh?”

Mike laughs softly to himself. “I’m really stupid.” Mike’s laugh fades. “I think I know why I never made a wish.”

Will goes still as Mike looks toward the village, lanterns floating overhead, his blank one somewhere among them. For five years, Will had sent pieces of his heart into the sky while Mike stood beside him insisting there was nothing he wanted. “I kept trying to think of something tonight,” Mike speaks slowly. “A better sword, more money, a bigger house, peace or whatever.” Will watches him intently. “And yet none of it felt…necessary.”

Will swallows as Mike looks back at him. “Because I already liked my life,” his voice drops slightly. “I liked coming home. I liked knowing you'd be there.” Mike takes a step closer. “I liked that it was always you, and when I imagined your wish being about someone else…” He shakes his head. “I hated it.”

“Mike. You don't have to—”

“I know.”

Will stops, and Mike looks down and smiles softly, because that’s been happening all night, the familiar ‘You don't have to’, ‘I know.’ Mike returns his gaze back to Will. “I know I don't have to. I think that's the problem.”

“What?”

“I spent the last five years thinking I did.” The words came easier to him now, he didn’t have to think as the words flowed effortlessly past his lips. “The oath. I thought that was why, why I followed you or why I came back, or watched over you as you slept and why I carried half of your things.” 

“More than half.”

“Not helping.” Mike chuckles but continues, “Why I remember everything about you.” His eyes flick toward the pouch at his belt holding the stars. Will looks down at his belt too. “But the oath never said I had to remember what flowers you wanted to see.” Will's eyes lift. “It never said I had to buy you things.” Mike takes a step closer. “Or dance with you.” Another step forward. “Or get jealous when someone else asks you.”

Will's breath catches. “It never said I had to want you beside me when there wasn't anything left to protect you from.” The moon-flowers glowed around them. “If I wasn't your paladin tomorrow…” Mike forces himself to continue as Will’s eyes begin to fill with tears. “I'd still come back, and if you weren't a cleric…” Mike's voice softens. “I'd still follow you.”

“Mike…”

“If there weren't any more battles…” He smiles nervously. “I'd still carry your ridiculous amount of herbs.” A wet laugh escapes Will. “And your pastries.”

Mike takes another step closer toward Will, now realizing how close they stood in front of each other. Close enough that Mike could see the tiny silver threads in Will's collar and the tears threatening to break loose. 

“You don't know what you're saying.”

“I think I'm finally starting to.”

“Mike.”

“I’m not going to lie to you.” I will speak no lie to you... Mike's heart pounds. “I made you a promise.”

“Mike…”

“I've kept it, every single time.”

“Don't use your oath to—”

“I’m not,” Mike's voice softens. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.” Will goes quiet. “The oath isn't why…” Mike lets out a shaky breath, gathering his courage before he speaks, “The oath isn't why I want this.”

Will stares at him. “Want what?”

Mike reaches slowly for Will's hands, and he stops before touching him, giving him a choice. Five years ago, Mike had held out his hand and asked, ‘Give me your hand,’ but tonight, he didn't need to. Will looks down and then places his hands in Mike's. He closes around them instantly, holding them tightly. Everything inside him settles as the truth hits him hard, not because he doubted it, but because saying it would mean everything and change their lives forever. Even when the truth is difficult to say…Mike looks down at their joined hands as the thought crosses his mind.

“I want you, Will.” Will stops breathing completely.” Mike continues, “Because I love you.”

Mike stops breathing too. The words hung between them, three simple words that were terrifying to admit, but truer than he’s ever been. Mike releases his breath and sighs, smiling brightly. “I love you.” It was easier that time.

Will's eyes fill completely, and Mike's thumb moves over his knuckles. “I think I have for longer than I knew what it was.”

“Mike…”

“And before you ask, even though I said it before.” Mike's smile reaches his eyes. “No. I'm not lying.”

Will laughs as a tear falls down his cheek, Mike brushes it away quickly. “I wasn't going to ask.”

Mike has never heard anything better than Will’s laugh than in that moment. Will's expression shifts. “Say it again.”

Mike's chest tightens. “What?”

Will's cheeks reddened as he looked up shyly into Mike’s gaze. “You know...”

Mike does know, so he steps closer. “I love you, Will. So, so much.”

Will closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, Mike can see everything. All the years Will spent wishing, waiting, and loving him. The sheer weight of it leaves Mike breathless. It’s a quiet, devastating confession written in the rawness of his gaze. For the first time, Will isn't hiding behind forced smiles or carefully chosen words, he is completely and agonizingly laid bare.

Mike lifts their joined hands slightly. “I’m sorry it took me this long.”

Will shakes his head, tears spilling down his cheeks. “Well, you’re here now.”

I will return to your side, always, for as long as I am able to find my way back to you. 

Mike laughs softly. Will's smile trembles as he chokes back sobs. Mike's gaze drops to his mouth. “Can I kiss you?”

Will's expression changes so quickly Mike almost misses it. “What? Seriously?”

“What?” Mike’s confused now. 

“You've just spent the entire night accidentally asking me on dates, and you’re asking me that?”

“I did not.” Mike looks down shyly, shuffling his feet. “Okay… I didn’t know until now, but it doesn't matter now.” He looks back up slowly. “Can I please kiss you?” 

Will steps closer, their chests now flushed as he steps up onto his tiptoes. “Yes, please.”

Mike smirks as he leans down and kisses him. It’s soft at first, then slow and careful because it almost feels unreal. Mike slowly lifts a free hand to Will’s face, thumb brushing and cupping his cheek. Will leans into the touch as Mike deepens the kiss. He continues to kiss him, not because of any oath or duty, but because Mike wanted to and apparently had spent the last five years running in circles around something he could have had this entire time.

When they finally pull apart, Will stays close and lands back on flat feet, his forehead still resting against Mike's, he could feel him smiling.

“You know I love you too, right?” Will asks, letting out a breathless laugh.

Mike nods as he leans in and kisses him—because he can now. There is no oath holding him back, no hesitation, just the soft, warm reality of Will against his lips. Mike pulls him closer, the ridiculous owlbear crinkling slightly between their hips as they sink into each other.

When they finally separate, Will is smiling so widely his eyes crinkle at the corners. He looks radiant, his cheeks still flushed a pretty pink, completely relaxed in Mike's space. Looking down at him, Mike decides right then and there that this is the absolute best moment of his life. He can kiss Will like this, hold him like this, and live in this exact warmth for the rest of his days. He would choose this over anything else.

Will squeezes the plush toy once before grabbing Mike’s hand, his gaze locking with Mike's as he falls back onto his heels. “You know, if you never read my lantern, I don’t think we’d be here. Supposedly, my wish isn’t supposed to come true now.”

Mike stares at him, then down at their hands. He’s reminded of what the elderly lantern woman had said to him by the fountain. “The thing about wishes, my dear cleric, is they fall exactly where they’re meant to.”

Will looks shocked, completely thrown off by the sudden poetic wisdom. His brows furrow in suspicion. “Where did that come from?”

Mike grins, rubbing the back of his neck as a faint blush creeps up his own cheeks. “Just something I heard. Don't worry about it.”

Will looks at him, completely unconvinced, but the suspicious lines on his face quickly soften under the gentle, silver light of the moon-flowers around them. The festival grounds are dark and quiet now, leaving just the two of them alone in the cool night air.

Will laces his fingers through Mike’s, pulling him just a fraction closer. “Right,” Will says, his voice a soft, amused whisper. “Whatever you say, my dear paladin.”

Mike lets out a breathless laugh, squeezing Will’s hand tight. “It seems like the stars aren't very good at following rules.” Mike instantly remembers the stars he bought earlier that night and reaches for his belt. “Actually…” He pulls out the small pouch as he unties it from his waistband. He opens the bag and a little blue glass star slips into his palm, along with a matching yellow one. Moonlight catches the stars, and they shimmer as Mike holds out his hand. “Here.”

Will stares at him, heart warming instantly at the sight of the stars in his free palm. “Oh…you got me another one?”

“It was a matching set. I had to.”

Will takes them carefully as his fingers brush against Mike's, eyes tearing up once again. “You finally trust me not to lose it?”

“Yes, well maybe no.”

Will looks offended.

Mike groans. “This honesty thing is exhausting.”

“You wrote the oath.”

“I was bleeding heavily.”

Mike looks at the blue-and-yellow stars in Will's palm. “You know, I would've still bought those even if you'd never made a wish about me.”

Will's expression softens. “I know.”

“I would've kept coming to the festival every year.” Will's eyebrows rose. “Okay. That one might take convincing, but I would've come.” Mike squeezes his hand. “Apparently where you go…”

Will's smile grows. “You follow.” Then Will leans in and kisses him, because he can also do that now. When they pull apart, Will’s eyes sparkle. His heart was full of so much love, he finally got his wish. “Mike?”

“Yeah, Will?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

They stay amongst the moon-flowers for a few hours. They eventually sit in the grass, talking about random nonsense. Will rests against Mike's shoulder, turning the little glass stars between his fingers. Mike holds one of Will's hands in his lap, neither particularly interested in letting the other go.

“So, five years...”

Mike groans. “Absolutely not.”

“Five years, Mike.”

“You hid it.”

“I looked at you like I was in love with you.”

“How was I supposed to know?” Mike laughs, and Will does too.

Then Will quiets. “The first festival…I really did only wish you'd stay safe.”

Mike's smile softens. “I know. And the second?”

Will sighs. “You really want to know?”

“All of them.”

Will looks embarrassed. “Okay, the second year, you were gone for three weeks. You were supposed to be gone for ten days.”

“Oh.”

“You didn't send word, so I wished you'd always find your way home.”

Mike's chest tightens. “And then I came back.”

“Fourteen days late.”

Will gives him a look. Mike lifts their hands and kisses Will's knuckles without thinking. Mike winks. “Continue.”

Will sighs. “The third year, you got offered that position with the royal guard.”

Mike remembers that too, but he turned it down immediately. Will hadn't known that at the time. “You thought I was leaving.”

“I thought you should, even though you said, ‘They wear stupid helmets.’”

“They did.” Mike smiles. “So you wished…”

“That I could stay beside you.”

Mike goes quiet. “And last year?”

Will's smile fades into something softer, and he looks down at his lap. “That you'd see me the way I see you.”

Mike's throat tightens. “Sorry.”

Will shakes his head. “Don't be. I can’t force you to love me.”

“You waited years.

“You were worth waiting for.”

“I don't know how to respond.” Mike looks towards Will.

“That's new.” Will smirks, trying his hardest to hide it.

Mike leans closer. “Well, I can think of one way.”

Will smiles and lets Mike kiss him, but this time Will pulls him closer to deepen it, falling on top of him in the grass. They had all the time in the world, and now they got to do it, together.

By the time they started back toward the village, the horizon had begun to pale. Will still wore Mike's cloak, because he hadn't asked for it back. They slowly walked back home since they weren’t really tired, not wanting the night to end. Their hands swung between them, everything was still new and strange, but also completely normal.

The first buildings appear ahead, the lanterns long gone as dawn approaches.

Mike sighs. “I had fun.”

Will looks unbearably pleased. “So we're coming next year?”

Mike looks at Will. “Don't push it.”

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

The village was definitely still asleep by the time they reached home. Mike opens the door, and Will walks in first, a force of habit. Mike places the stuffed owl-bear on the table, along with the herbs, leftover pastry, and everything else they seemed to have collected from the festival.

Will unclasps Mike's cloak from around his shoulders, and Mike takes it, their fingers brush. Will looks around the room, it's the exact same as they left it just hours ago, nothing has changed, but also everything had at the same time. Mike takes off his armor and changes into his tunic. He glances at the full-length mirror, the same mirror that Will was getting ready in front of earlier. Mike crosses the room, and Will watches him approach. “The blue really does look good on you.”

Will's face warms and he turns bright red.

“Oh my God, that, there.”

“What?”

“I finally know why you keep turning red.”

Will stares at him. “You figured that out now? After everything else?”

“Apparently.” Mike's smile softens. “I like it.”

“What?”

“Making you blush.”

“You've discovered flirting.”

Mike scrunches his eyebrows before a small smile forms on his lips. “I was flirting?”

Will stares. “Okay. That explains a lot of things.”

Mike leans forward and kisses him once. Will grabs the front of his tunic. Mike laughs against his mouth and begins to kiss all over his face.

When they separate, Will rests his forehead against his. “Next year?”

Mike groans. “Don't ruin this.”

Will lets out a soft laugh, stealing a quick kiss on Mike’s forehead as he stands on his tiptoes.

After Will changes out of his robes into something more comfortable, they lie down together in Will’s bed. “Will?”

“Hm?”

“What would've happened if I hadn't caught it?”

Will goes quiet. “I don't know.”

Mike looks toward the ceiling. “Would you have told me?”

Another pause. “Probably not.”

Mike quiets, “Well, I’m glad I saw it then.”

Will's expression changes. “You can’t say things like that.”

Mike looks at him. “I'm still glad I did. Not because I wanted to know something you didn't want me to, but because I don't know how much longer we would've kept playing footsies.”

Will threads their fingers together and laughs. “Doing what?”

Mike rolls toward him. “I will make you regret this.”

Will smiles. “Is that a threat, Paladin?”

Mike leans over. “No.” He kisses him on the cheek, and then again after he blushes from the first one. “A promise.”

Will closes his eyes, leaning heavily into Mike's touch because he knows it is another promise Mike won't have much trouble keeping.

They turn into each other, effortlessly tangling their limbs as they pull close. Often, they find themselves simply staring into each other's eyes, their gazes heavy and unbroken in the dim light. They slowly run their hands up and down each other's arms and shoulders, finally able to touch in a deeply intimate way that feels entirely different than before. They snuggle deep into each other's warmth, trading the cool night air for the soft heat of the blankets. Neither of them is sleeping yet, as they drift in the quiet of the room, completely content to simply exist in each other's presence.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Five years ago, Mike had knelt on a ruined battlefield and placed his sword into the earth. He had taken Will's bloody hand in his and sworn him everything he understood how to give and then lived by every word. 

For five years, Will had sent wishes into the sky. Keep him safe. Let him always find his way home. Let me remain beside him. Let him someday see me as I see him. And finally: To be loved by him. Different words, yet all of them led to Mike.

The oath had not made Mike love Will, Mike understood that now. It had simply given him a reason to stay and a reason to choose Will. I will return to your side, always, for as long as I am able to find my way back to you. He'd meant it five years ago, and he still meant it now. He wasn't returning because Will was his cleric, he stayed because home had quietly become less of a place and more of a person.

Outside, the final wishes of the fifth Lantern Festival are likely dissolving into the morning sky. But here under the blankets, neither of them cares about the passing hours, entirely unwilling to end a night that has only just begun. Mike brings a hand to Will’s cheek, gently cupping his face in the quiet dawn light, and Will leans deeply into the warmth of his palm.

“I love you, my dear cleric.”

“I love you, my dear paladin.”