She had spent an entire fort-night near crazed, between the long hours of training with Bajie, and dancing around Yoonjie's hatred for her, she needed an evening with someone who demanded very little of her. Ailwin demanded very little from her in the ways that mattered to her. He was a comfortable balm compared to having to be stoic next to Bajie's hot-headed son, and grown, when she stood next to Bajie. They both demanded that she be engaged in the world around her, to the point that colors were too bright and the temperatures either chilled or heated her too much. Sounds were too loud.
She yearned for the simpleness that would come from an evening with someone who seemed to understand that she was a woman of very little wants. Good company, perhaps a little conversation, a good meal, and a good bed to sleep in. Now whether she would stay the night here with him, she didn't know yet, only that she had bought the "big" room for the night. It had a private bathing area, and a large four poster bed, and the young elf who called the owner dad had assured her that she had boiled the sheets clean with water and soap just that morning.
Flea ... felt the place was homey. A good place to be still for an evening, and there was even places to go walking along, if needs be. And she didn't feel like she constantly had to be on alert the entire time. Even if she jumped, when the knock came at the door, and the grey headed woman came in, carrying a tray of food, and beer, soaps and towels, and another blanket, since, as Flea had told her "You said you get cold easily, so I brought you another."
She picked at the food, hungry, but not wanting to enjoy the meal alone, as she waited for her visitor to arrive. This full moon hadn't come fast enough, and she was incredible impatient to see Ailwin in the flesh once again.
Ailwin stood outside the door for a moment, steadying his breath. The anticipation of seeing Flea again filled him with a mix of excitement and calm. He knocked softly, and when the door opened, he was greeted by the sight of Flea, her eyes lighting up despite the weariness that clung to her.
Flea, he said, a soft smile forming on his lips. It's good to see you.
He stepped inside, his eyes quickly scanning the room. The sight of the untouched food didn't escape him, nor did the extra blanket neatly folded on the bed. He sensed her exhaustion, her need for peace, and it resonated deeply within him.
Sitting beside her, he felt a sense of ease settle over him. The room was warm, inviting, a stark contrast to the often harsh world outside. You look like you could use a quiet evening, he remarked, his voice gentle and understanding.
He reached into his bag, pulling out a small bundle. I brought you something, he said, handing it to her. Inside was a handmade herbal sachet, filled with calming lavender and chamomile. Just a little something to help you relax. I know how overwhelming everything can get.
I've missed your presence, Ailwin, it's been too many weeks since we last saw one another. She spoke softly as she moved aside to let him in the room with her, watching him closely as he took everything in. I checked the walls, there's no where someone could peep in on us, and the balcony is open to the outside. She explained in that same hushed voice. She was exhausted, and he noted it, but she shook her head, smiling a little. Bajie's son, the one I told you about from the past. He's awake now too. She smile faded some, but she let it go. Training has been difficult. My master makes sure I am still in good shape and form even after all these years. The basics can make or break you.
When he settled in beside her, she tried not to let herself be too excited. She didn't like to let many close, but with Ailwin, she felt she could trust him with that, to be inside her personal space. And he came by it naturally, their letters, their time back in the city -- when he came into her space, it was as a friend, gently and easily. When the satchet landed in her hand, she didn't noticed her fingers on his, just for a moment, just barely, it was hardly even a touch, but when she realized it, she withdrew them, curling them instead about the trinket that smelled so delicious. Closing her eyes, she raised it to her nose, breathing in the calming scents deeply. For tea, or for a bath? She had known some to drink the mixture, and some to bathe in the mixture.
A bath would be -- well the room had a private one for a reason, but she shook her head and then smiled. Thank you, Ailwin, flowers between us still.. are you hungry? I had the .. lady? Bring us a meal, but I didn't find myself hungry until you were here. And now she was ravenous, ravenous for food, ravenous for his company, ravenous for the way he looked at her as if he understood, truly understood, that she was a quiet woman by nature, and just sitting here with him was enough.
Ailwin took in the room, his senses picking up the subtle scents of lavender and chamomile mingling with the aroma of freshly prepared food. He felt the warmth of the fire and the coziness of the room wrap around him, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. Flea's weariness was evident, but so was her relief at seeing him.
Flea, you’ve been through so much, he said softly, his eyes meeting hers with genuine concern, he knew she could take care of herself and it wasn’t a sympathetic look as much as just genuine empathy and understanding. I'm glad we have this evening, even if just for a night. He reached out, but stopped a few centimeters from her arm. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to touch her, but touch didn’t come easily to him. I can see it’s been difficult, with Bajie's son and all the training. Some unwinding is in order.
He settled into a chair, his presence a steady anchor in the room's calm. As for the sachet, he continued with a gentle smile, it’s meant for whatever brings you the most peace. Tea, a bath, whichever you prefer. You deserve some tranquility.
He glanced at the food, then back at her, noting the hunger in her eyes. I'm famished," he admitted with a chuckle. Let's eat together. A meal is always more fulfilling when shared.
As they began to eat, Ailwin kept his movements slow and unhurried, matching the serene pace of the evening. Tell me more about your training, he prompted, his voice inviting her to share. And how is Bajie's son adjusting? I want to know everything, but only what you’re comfortable sharing.
He listened intently, their conversation a soothing backdrop to the simple act of sharing food and company. The room felt like a sanctuary, a temporary escape from the demands and pressures of their lives. Here, in this moment, they could be just Ailwin and Flea, friends reconnecting and finding solace in each other's presence.
After they had transitioned to the table, and she had shoveled a few bites in her face, the edge of hunger had melted away some, and Flea was finally able to listen to him talk again, to not feel the immediate need to ask him to repeat himself, even as she tried hard not too lose any of them, Still sweet words from you, Ailwin. She teased gently, because not so long ago, they were writing letters, and now she had him there, she could tease. She could see his face, his response to her words, and it was so much more than what she had remembered from the day or two she had been around him before she had gone back out into the world to find Bajie.
Training is ... training. She frowned, she didn't know how to describe it, but she could tell how it felt. I feel like my body is getting stronger again, not like when I was in the pits, like if I took a blow wrong my arm or leg would break. I feel like I could block a blow now and not topple. It was a steady diet and rest, and clean water. Things that she had only dreamed about in the past. In fact, she had filled out some, herself. Gone were the gaunt looking cheeks, replaced by a healthy hue. You look like you're eating better too.. She wasn't about to say he looked like he had gotten more rest. No, Ailwin still had dark bags under his eyes.
Will you be able to.. feel comfortable enough, to sleep here? She had worried about that, when she had asked for the room. There were multiple ways to escape, she had seen to them herself, but she knew how hard it was to sleep somewhere that didn't feel safe. And she very much wanted to make sure he got at least one good night worth of sleep while they were together. She wanted to help alleviate him of some of that tiredness she saw in him every time she looked up to his face.
She pushed a small plate of raw vegetables closer to him -- she was eating better now, and she would make sure he ate his fill. She knew she didn't need to watch out for him, but over the months that they had written to one another, she knew he needed someone to offer him some succor, some solace, in what seemed like a never ending battle he was waging on the other side of the continent. Not now of course, I.. I think I'd like a walk before sleep, but.. later. Her tongue felt leaden in her mouth. When she had time to think on her words, while writing, she could be more attentive, more poetic, here with him in front of her, she found herself distracted by the lines of his fingers, the way the corner of his mouth twitched, a raised eyebrow. All of them took her attention, and left her mouth and head empty of words, save for the most simple.
I promise I can converse. She finally managed, a self-depreciating smile on her face as she sighed gently. Having you here, I find myself having words on the tip of my tongue and they're teased away the next moment.
Ailwin leaned back slightly, his sharp eyes scanning the room as he absorbed Flea's words. The coziness of the space, the warm firelight casting gentle shadows, made it easy to pretend that the world outside didn’t exist. He watched her as she ate, noting the way her tension slowly eased with each bite. She had been through a lot—that much was clear—but she was still here, still pushing forward. It was something he could respect.
You’re too kind, Ailwin replied, his tone dry but with an undercurrent of warmth. Sweet words have their uses, but you and I both know actions matter more. His gaze softened slightly as he added, And you’ve done more than your share of heavy lifting lately. Training, dealing with Bajie’s son, keeping your head above water. No small feat.
He reached for a piece of bread, tearing it with deliberate slowness, as if the simple act of eating was something to be savored. Good to hear your strength’s returning, he commented, eyes flicking to her arms, noting the subtle changes in her form. You were always tougher than you looked. Glad to see you’re filling out properly now.
Her mention of his own appearance brought a faint smirk to his lips. Eating better, sure. Sleeping? Let’s just say I’m still working on that. He caught her concern, the way her eyes lingered on the dark circles under his own. Ailwin wasn’t one to let people fuss over him, but with Flea, it was different. She didn’t press, didn’t demand explanations. She simply noticed, and somehow that was enough.
I’ll manage, he added, his voice softer now. But I appreciate the thought. The room’s secure, I’ll sleep fine. And if I don’t… He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, though they both knew it did. At least I’ve got good company.
He reached for the vegetables she pushed his way, making a show of indulging her care. It was a small thing, but in the quiet of the room, it felt significant. He took a bite, savoring the taste before turning his attention fully back to her.
A walk sounds good, Ailwin agreed, his voice as steady as ever. We can talk more, or just enjoy the quiet. Whatever you need. He paused, eyes meeting hers with a calm intensity. And don’t worry about the words. I’m not here for grand speeches. Just this. He gestured vaguely to the space between them, the shared warmth, the unspoken understanding.
He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for the first time in what felt like weeks. There was no rush, no pressure. Just the two of them, a meal, and the comfort of knowing that, for tonight at least, they didn’t have to face the world alone.
Vatriel, as she was called in another life, Flea -- her name was Flea -- she saw the neglect he was causing himself, but she knew better than to press any further once he said that he would be able to manage, fighting to keep the corner of her mouth from quirking up into a smile as he took the food she shared. With the training she was currently helping with, she had more than enough food, but she knew she had to be careful with how she presented her care -- too much one way or another and it would disrupt the careful balance they had between them. Flea liked that balance a little too much to let it completely teeter into smothering or neglect. Ailwin had too much neglect in his lifetime, and she was sure smothering the man with acts of service would create the same distance again.
Neither thing she desired, she realized, when it came to the male in front of her, with his all-seeing eyes and sharp wit that sometimes made her reel in realization that he treated her as equal. His reassurance that her being shite with words, and that the company alone was enough, had her shoulders dropping down from where they had been near her ears, her jaw laxed from where it had been clenched slightly, and the strain lines around her eyes relaxed out some more. She had been so focused on trying so hard to be the right person, that she had forgotten she already was. Thank you, for not making me feel like a fool.
The tone of her words warmed slightly as she turned her eyes up to his again, finding the strength and resolve there, the calming aura that he gave for her. With a timidness that one never would have guessed would be in the woman, given her past as a gladiator, as an assassin, she reached her hand up on the table, fingers open, palm up, to the middle of the table -- a symbolic gesture, meeting halfway. She wasn't sure if he would take her hand or not -- she knew from their first few days that he didn't like to really be touched -- she couldn't blame him, she herself didn't like to be touched that often, but...
Ailwin was safe.
This was safe.
They were safe.
And she was ready to grow with someone who understood that she was the sum of all her parts, not just.. a piece here and a piece there.
Come for that walk with me? The unspoken now, tomorrow, anytime was left in the air between them. She might not realize it till much later on, but she knew she never wanted that walk to end, if he took the first steps with her.
Ailwin’s gaze dropped to Flea’s open hand, the faintest flicker of surprise crossing his face before it melted away. It wasn’t just a hand extended—it was a bridge, a raw, vulnerable invitation offered without expectation or pressure. Flea’s hands had seen as much of life’s brutality as his, marked by hard-won survival and as guarded as his own. And here they were, willing to offer what little they could in a world that often demanded everything. He had spent years living without a place to call home, yet somehow in this small, candle-lit room with Flea, he felt a fleeting sense of it.
He took a slow breath, steeling himself against the instinct to retreat from the offer. This was her, real and unarmored, trusting him enough to let him into her world. He respected that too much to turn away. Gently, with a tenderness he rarely permitted himself, he reached out and let his fingers brush against hers, resting there with the unhurried grace of someone who knew that trust was more fragile than any glass.
You’re not a fool, he said softly, letting the warmth of her hand ground him. Far from it, Flea. You’re tougher than most, and if there’s anyone who deserves to find some peace in this world, it’s you.
He let the silence stretch, comfortable and steady, letting the simplicity of the gesture speak the things he found difficult to say aloud. He knew, better than most, how words could be slippery things, full of promises they couldn’t always keep. And with Flea, he found he didn’t need them to make himself understood. Actions had always come easier to him, and here, it was enough to let his hand rest in hers.
After a moment, he gave her fingers a slight, reassuring squeeze. He was saying yes—to the walk, to this fragile companionship, to the tentative journey they’d started, unsure of where it might lead but willing to see it through.
Let’s take that walk, he murmured, his voice low, his expression unwavering. And though he didn’t say it, he knew that wherever that walk led them, he would be by her side, each step a silent promise.
For tonight, and maybe longer, they had each other.
Her heart fluttered rapidly in her chest as she waited to see if he would take her hand, before she felt his fingers glide across her own, and finally wrap around her hand. It was enough, so much more than she had ever hoped, or dreamed for in a way. She had been raised in the ring, Bajie had taught her as well as he could to fight to live, and now? Now she was being presented with a way to be more than just a tool, more than just a weapon. More than just fighting to live.
It was easy to slip from the chair, to stand, and to gently pull him along with her, out to the balcony attached to the room, and then a secret staircase that one wouldn't know was there, unless one knew. The woman who served tables there, she had shown her, earlier in the day, so that she and Ailwin wouldn't have to be seen leaving or entering the room. It was why the door on the balcony had a lock on it. It was easy to lead them down the path she herself had walked earlier in the day, mindful of places where his cane might catch.
It was easy to fall into comfortable silence, with her hand in his, as they walked, the full moon not nearly as bright as the double full moon that would come in a few more months, but enough to keep them from tripping over anything, or running afoul of some animal running loose. And when they were there, in the dark, with only the moon to keep them company, besides one another, when they were truly alone with one another...
You deserve peace too, Ailwin, as much as I do. I think we could find that, together. Her fingers slotted with his then, as she squeezed his hand, her eyes turned up to the sky, admiring the stars, the smell of the ocean on the night breeze, still several miles in the distance, but the scent carrying on to the lands where they stood. It's silly, knowing our time together right now is so brief... I want to share you with none, not even the moons in the sky. She found it easier to talk, there in the dark, with only his ears to hear her words. The field they were in, she could see all lines of approach, she would know if someone came upon them.
She didn't take the matters of her heart lightly, and as such, when she spoke with it, she made sure that her words were for his ears only. If I could secret us away, here in the dark, for as long as we wished, I would. I'm not happy that the morning will part us again, until we can find a moment like this, once again.
Ailwin walked silently beside Flea, each step of the path deliberate as the night air settled cool against his skin. The secret passage she’d led them down had a kind of intimacy to it, a route known only to them, hidden from the rest of the world. The weight of her hand in his felt… right. Unusual, maybe, but right.
She had led him to the quiet field, moonlight gently illuminating their way, and her words pierced the stillness with unexpected weight. Flea’s voice was softer than usual—full of a vulnerability he rarely heard from her. And yet, he knew she wasn’t someone who said such things lightly.
His hand tightened slightly around hers, a subtle acknowledgment of her words. He understood what she meant—about the peace, the shared moments stolen away from the rest of the world. He knew all too well the brevity of such quiet times. The world outside demanded too much, too often, and people like them didn’t get to hide from it forever.
Still, here they were.
Peace isn’t something I’ve ever been good at finding, he said, his voice low but not hard. There was an honesty there, a rawness that mirrored hers. But if there’s a way to it, maybe you’re right. Maybe we can find it together.
His eyes flicked to the stars, a habit he’d picked up over the years, looking up when words felt heavy. The vastness of the night sky always reminded him how small everything was in comparison. But here, in this moment, with her by his side, it didn’t feel small. It felt real.
You don’t have to share me with the moons or anyone else tonight, Ailwin added, a rare softness creeping into his voice. This is our time, however brief. We make of it what we want.
He turned his head to look at her, the moonlight casting shadows across her face. Her hand felt steady in his, her words echoing in the quiet of the night.
We’ll find more moments like this, he promised quietly, almost more to himself than to her. But until then… let’s make this one last as long as we can.
Peace often times has to be fought for, over and over again, but it can also come from the simplicity of a night spent with the right company. It was strange, feeling grounded to someone, someone other than Bajie, someone other than the other gladiators, and in a way that was.. unique.
She knew from stories that the feelings that blossomed in her chest, the tightness that happened when she thought about having to give him back to the rest of the world in the day light, knew from the silly serials that she sometimes would borrow from others in the camps in Arlthan, that it was something deeper than just appreciation of a fellow soul. I say that, like I didn't spend over five thousand years asleep, tended to, shirking off the real world because it was too much. Time is much, much different for our kind, Ailwin, but I know had I not slept for as long as I did, I would have missed the chance to have met you.
There in the dark it was easier to speak freely, like they were able to in their letters, she didn't feel like she'd stumble over the words quite as much as she did when they were in the light. Words like theirs, were meant for the night, meant to be in hushed reverence, One of these days, I won't let the sun take you back to what you do, even if I know how important it is for you to be the one doing it. I don't think anyone else has the conviction to follow through on it. That was fact, it took a certain sort of person to realize what was bad in the world and strive to change it. Ailwin was that sort of person, and exactly why, even though she felt selfish, she knew that come dawn, she had to share him with the world once again.
Ailwin’s lips twitched into a faint, wry smile, one that held both amusement and a shadow of something deeper—recognition, perhaps, or resignation. Her words echoed truths he rarely let himself confront, not because they weren’t real, but because admitting them meant acknowledging the weight they carried.
He turned slightly, facing her more fully under the silver light of the moon. Her features, softened by the quiet of the night, seemed almost unguarded—a rare thing for someone who had lived through what she had. He felt the pull of her words, their quiet gravity.
Time is a funny thing, isn’t it? he mused, his voice low and edged with that sharpness he couldn’t help but bring to every conversation, though it softened here with her. We have so much of it, and yet it never feels like enough. Even now, I can’t help but wonder how much of it I’m wasting just... standing here.
The corner of his mouth quirked slightly, and he gave her hand another light squeeze, a gesture that was more for him than for her—proof that he was here, that this was real, and not another fleeting moment slipping through his fingers.
But I wouldn’t trade this night, Flea. Not for anything. You’re right. It’s not often we find peace, let alone someone who can share it with us, however brief.
Her mention of his convictions, of the things that pulled him back to the shadows of the world when the sun rose, made something tighten in his chest. She saw him—truly saw him—not as a ruthless tactician or a weapon honed for a single purpose, but as someone who bore the weight of his choices because no one else would.
Conviction is a heavy thing, Flea, he admitted, his gaze dropping briefly to the grass beneath their feet before lifting back to hers. It’s not something you choose lightly, and it’s certainly not something you walk away from. But knowing there’s someone who understands it—someone who doesn’t try to pull me away from it but still… He paused, searching for the right words. Still wants me to find a reason to let go of it, even just for a night. That means more than I can say.
