Homecoming

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The wind swirled around the lone figure approaching the entrance of the village. His feet crunched over the brown leaves, creating a crackling sound that followed his footfalls.

He'd asked her once, long ago, about why the leaves turned brown before the cold set in, why they fell from the trees in bewildering arrays of yellow and red and brown.

"They're resting, Ein." She had replied softly as she went about her work for the day. "During winter, the trees and plants… they sleep, and wait."

"Wait?" He had asked curiously. "Wait for what?"

A tiny smile had flitted across her face. "To be reborn."

He hadn't understood back then when she'd said it. But he'd simply chalked it up to ignorance due to his creation and childhood in Asgard. No such thing as seasons there, after all, and Hector had never seen fit to teach him about the Sprites.

He blew out a long breath, watching the warm air condense in the cold. The bite of winter was fast setting in, and despite his thick cloak, he felt a chill deep within him.

Once under the sprawling branches of the trees, he stopped to admire the dance of the falling leaves as they fluttered all around him. He fancied he saw a fairy or two darting through the leaves, laughing among themselves.

Another gust of wind caused him pull his cloak tighter around himself. But the cold refused to go away. Subconsciously, he knew it had nothing to do with the wind.

He sighed, closed his eyes, and continued to walk. Maybe he would feel better once he was in a house, in front of a cheery fire.

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She poked the centre of the woodpile and smiled with satisfaction as the blaze grew, filling the cozy room with a gentle warmth.

She glanced around the room. The blue jug of milk rested on the kitchen table, next to the loaf of freshly baked bread. The couches were neatly arranged, and of course, the fire was just the right size.

Everything was ready for his arrival – for his return.

Nodding with satisfaction, she walked over to one of chairs, settled herself down onto it, and began to wait.

Perhaps she had always been waiting. For a knight in shining armour, straight out of the fairytales she had always devoured.

The doorway creaked open and he stepped into the house quickly, glad to be shielded from the biting cold of the outside world.

A smile blossomed on her face and she stood to embrace him.

"Welcome home, Ein."

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He smiled and reached out as well, enveloping her in a tight hug. "Hello, Fia." He replied softly.

"How was your trip?"

He closed his eyes and nodded. "It went well. Good enough, anyway."

"Well, now you can tell me about it." She said, leading him over to a chair by the table. Grabbing a cup and filling it with milk, she handed it to him, and he nodded his thanks.

Ein spoke softly, detailing his latest journey, while Fia listened attentively, making the occasional comment. There were a couple of giggles shared by both parties, and on the whole, it seemed a rather healthy conversation. Finally, on Ein's suggestion, they retired to the couch in front of the fireplace, sitting side by side and hand-in-hand as the watched the orange glow of the dancing flames. Eventually, Fia's head lowered until it rested on his shoulder, and he shifted slightly to accommodate her.

Rose, watching all this from the windowsill, rolled over lazily and yawned.

She knew they would be fine.

Her master now felt warm for the first time in ages. And now his wife would not have to wait any longer.

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