Summary:
As Hyperion flaps his wings and zooms through the air, Priscilla feels like she's never felt anything sweeter or warmer than the emotions that bubble up inside her when Heath whispers sweet nothings to her. Written for FE Rarepair Week: Summer Edition 2017.
Author's Ideas: *angry screaming*
HEATH/PRISCILLA IS LITERALLY MY LIFE
So here, have something for fe-rarepairweek2k17's Summer Rarepair Week. The prompts were food/sweet/family, and I used all of them. Yes, all of them.
To Wish Upon The Sweetest Man
Priscilla pulls the final garment over her shoulders, a veil-like robe with golden frocks along the edges. She tucks a strand of her long red hair behind the winged accessory against her ear, turning to look herself over in the mirror.
"Are you ready?"
Priscilla turns her head to the man next to her, a gentle look on her face. "Do you think I need make-up?"
He snorts. "It's just my parents."
"They deserve to see me at my best," Priscilla murmurs, reaching for the box of cosmetics beside the mirror. A gloved hand stops her.
"They'll love you for who you are, like I do," the green-haired man smiles, and Priscilla giggles.
"Heath…" she starts, and Heath squeezes her hand.
"I promise."
She gives him a gentle squeeze back. "Alright. I'm ready then."
Hyperion screeches from outside of the small house, and Priscilla smiles. Heath sighs and glances back at Priscilla. "Shall we go?"
"Of course."
~ / . / . / ~
"Are you sure you should be here?" Heath asks gently while they're flying through the sky, the wind tearing at their bodies. Priscilla's fingers tighten around his waist as she lets out a gentle laugh.
"You're asking me this now?"
"I asked you before, and you said it was fine, but… is it really?"
"Don't worry," Priscilla lifts a hand from Hyperion's reins and presses a gentle kiss onto the back of his gloved fingers. "Lady Cecilia and Lord Perceval promised to… well, cover for my disappearance."
"Did they now?" Heath murmurs, turning over his shoulder to look Priscilla in the eyes. The wind grows harsher, and Priscilla lets go of his hand as he reaches for Hyperion's reins again. The Etrurian noblewoman reaches up, brushing loose clumps of white and green hair out of his eyes.
"Yes. Cecilia and Perceval are sharing my duties until I can return to the courts of Etruria. And… well, I can only hope they can sustain themselves. I owe them much thanks when the time comes for me to return."
"And what paper thin lie are you operating under now?" Heath teases, and Priscilla tugs at his hair. "Ow! I'm sorry, my dear Countess."
"Simply a visit to an old friend. It is certainly not a lie."
"And no one questioned it?"
"Lord Pent and Sir Erk made sure of it," Priscilla smiles. "Now, hurry on. I wish to meet your parents as quickly as possible."
"Anything for you," he says, and the tone in his voice tells Priscilla that he's grinning the widest, shit-eating grin she's ever seen.
As Hyperion flaps his wings and zooms through the air, Priscilla feels like she's never felt anything sweeter or warmer than the emotions that bubble up inside her when Heath whispers sweet nothings to her.
~ / . / . / ~
Heath runs his fingers through her hair, untangling red hair that falls onto her shoulders, draping over her chest. It's a bright contrast to the emerald green that illuminates the rest of her outfit, and he can't help but smile.
"What is it?" Priscilla asks. There's a small stutter in her words, a gentle hesitation. She fiddles with the pendant hanging around her neck that's shaped like a waterdrop. Her breaths are quicker and higher in pitch.
He leans his head in and holds her shoulders, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "It'll be alright, Priscilla. I promise you."
She gives him a quivering smile in response, letting her fingers slip from the accessory around her neck. Her hands rest gently on his forearms, and she draws herself closer to him. "It's not that I doubt you, Heath… I just…"
"I know," Heath murmurs softly. "I know…"
There's a moment of silence, dashed by Priscilla's trembling breaths and the slight rustle of clothes as Heath presses himself against her, letting her rest her cheek against his chest and listen to the gentle heartbeat of his soul.
Hyperion's tail swishes impatiently, hitting against the back of Heath's legs. He rolls his eyes, looking over his shoulder.
"Hyperion…"
The wyvern leans down, nudging his rough head against Priscilla's cheek. She giggles, reaching up and stroking Hyperion gently.
"You big baby…"
The wyvern lets out a growl in response, and Priscilla gives him another pat before looking at Heath. "I suppose it's time to go."
Heath doesn't offer her any words this time, only his fingers entwined with hers and a reassuring squeeze. Priscilla nods, and follows Heath towards the small village town at the top of the hill. Slowly, she draws the veil of her robe over her face and lowers her gaze. Heath tightens his grip around her, lets her fall in step closer to him.
"Heath! You're back! When's your next job? Come on, let's go get a drink!" A brown-haired man yells from a nearby tavern, leaning out of the window. "Hey, who's the pretty girl next to you?"
"Not now! I've got to head out tomorrow morning! Maybe next time!" Heath calls back, and Priscilla smiles behind her veil, letting her gaze drift up to Heath's face. He looks at her and smiles back before picking up the pace.
"Damn it, Heath!"
His grin grows wider and he leads her left, and then to the right and through a winding maze of streets until they're standing in front of a stone house in the corner of the village. With a final, gentle kiss pressed on her lips, he knocks on the wooden door.
There are two pairs of footsteps quickly approaching the door, and then it swings up. The woman squeals while the man crosses his arms, a grin on his face.
"Heath! Oh, you finally brought her! Come on, now, introduce us!"
"Mother, Father…" Heath smiles shakily, and Priscilla reaches up to remove her veil. "I'd like you to meet… Countess Caerleon of Etruria. Or, as I know her, Priscilla."
"It's nice to finally meet you," Priscilla pushes the veil back, trying to hide her twitching fingers. She gives them a gentle smile and a curtsy. When she looks up at them, they stare back at her, dumbfounded.
Silence meets her words, and Priscilla can't help but glance at Heath worriedly. His face has gone dark, and his hands are curled into fists. He takes a protective step in front of her.
"Mother, Father-"
"When you'd said you'd found a girl," his father states, eyes wide and mouth gaping, "I didn't expect you to bring a noblewoman back with you."
"If you're saying-" The wyvern rider begins to growl.
Heath is cut off again when his mother throws her arms around Priscilla and Heath, a weary smile stretched across her face and a humorous twinkle in her eyes. Priscilla blinks in surprise, and Heath lets out a squeak of protest.
"Welcome home, both of you," Heath's parents chorus, and Priscilla lets a smile paint itself across her lips as tears fall slowly down her cheeks.
~ / . / . / ~
"Thank you for dinner," Priscilla bows her head. "It was wonderful."
"No need for thanks, darling," Heath's mother smiles, setting down a bowl and a pair of spoons in front of the two of them. "Have some dessert before you go, won't you?"
"We're going to be staying the night," Heath points out, but takes a spoon and scoops a spoonful of pudding.
"This used to be Heath's favorite dish as a boy," his father pipes up, and the green-haired man shoots his father a dirty look across the table. "Oh, don't give me that look, Heath."
Heath rolls his eyes, and Priscilla takes a tentative bite from her own spoon.
"Well? How is it, darling? Sweet enough for you?"
"Yes, but…" she smiles at them. "I think the sweetest thing you've given me is Heath."
Heath shoves a spoonful of pudding into his mouth, his face flushed scarlet red as he looks away. His parents just laugh, and Priscilla feels that warm and loving emotion blossoming in her heart, and she finds herself laughing along, a sweetly tinkling laugh that Heath knows so very well.