A/N: Hello everyone! This is a little oneshot inspired by the official artwork where Ophilia is cutting bunny apples for Therion :) I never would've thought to ship these two (I more prefer Ophilia/Cyrus and Therion/Tressa), but I just couldn't help but write this after seeing that art! I actually completed this story a while ago, but it's been sitting in my docs because I've been too lazy to upload it :x I finally got to uploading it today, so yay! I hope you enjoy! ^^
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An explosion of white light came from his left, forcing up a cloud of dust that settled like soft snow.
Therion's throat tightened as he watched Ophilia collapse onto her knees. A nearby direhound whipped its head towards her and licked his chops upon spying his new target. Therion let out a loud grunt as he slashed away the hound he grappled with, effectively shattering it in a blast of translucent blue light.
A quick survey of the battlefield confirmed his fear; Olberic - the only one of them who could easily burden a full-blown hit from a ravage direhound - was not close enough to jump to her aide. The swordsman was busy shielding Cyrus, who cast spells at the herd of direhounds farther ahead with a booming voice.
Therion was the only one in a position to reach her side, but he knew making it in time would be a slim chance.
Blood roared in the thief's ears as another hound lunged for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Ophilia weakly grip her staff and pull herself up. A lump formed in his throat at her pained expression and the dark blood that stained her white dress.
Therion took his rage out on the hound, knocking the dog back and putting it in a daze. He huffed at his long bangs and gripped his sword tighter as the hound going after their cleric - his cleric - stalked closer upon her exhausted form.
The thief tried to focus his breathing in an effort to channel the little bit of remaining energy into his limbs. He never needed raw power more desperately than right now.
Therion dug his boots into the dirt and sprinted towards the fallen woman.
One.
She pointed her silver staff towards the hound, but Therion could see her physically panting with exertion.
Two.
Fiery blue energy coursed through his body, giving power to his muscles as he gained ground towards her. Ophilia raised her head and locked her sights on Therion. Her brows shot up, and she called something out to him, but Therion couldn't hear her over the deafening thunder coming from Olberic and Cyrus' fight off to his left.
Three.
Flames erupted from the hand that gripped his sword as the direhound snarled and lunged towards Ophilia. Her golden hair flipped as her head snapped back to her enemy. The tired cleric staggered back and raised her staff as she faced the hound with a determined expression. An incantation began to slip from her lips, but Therion knew she wouldn't be able to reflect the attack in time.
Four.
"Ophilia!" Therion roared loudly as he collided with the direhound, taking both of their bodies tumbling across the dusty earth and away from the startled cleric.
The heat of razor sharp claws and fire magic licked at his arm and belly as Therion blindly wrestled with the screeching hound. He landed a few stabs to its soft underbelly, and the direhound whined before contorting its head back and letting out a final death cry. Blue light scattered around them, leaving Therion gasping for breath on his back.
Not even a second had passed before another hound lunged on top of him. He grit his teeth as he took the blow of the hound's claws, but thankfully the dog disappeared in a flash of white light.
"T-Therion!"
Therion's chest rapidly heaved up and down as he tried to regain his bearings. His energy was spent, and the thief lay dazed as he tried to catch his breath.
"Therion! What were you thinking?!"
Emerald eyes drifted up to spot the blonde cleric jog over to his side. A worried frown tugged at her lips, but Therion gave her a relieved smile.
He did it. She was safe.
He tried to stand for her, but a fierce sting in his stomach knocked the air out of him, forcing him to slouch backwards.
Ophilia hurried to his side. Her tired body buckled under her weight as she clumsily plopped down beside him. Her staff clattered to the ground and she reached for his hands to get them away from his stomach.
"No, don't touch!"
Therion huffed and allowed her to push his hands away. Much to his embarrassment, one of his pushed aside hands grazed the side of her lap, though the cleric didn't seem to notice. He didn't move his hand for fear of her shifting him away.
"Oh no, he really did a number on you…" she murmured to herself as she assessed the deep claw marks on Therion's stomach.
"Yeah, but I got him better."
Ophilia's hands froze and she looked up to meet Therion's even gaze. The intensity of his unusually gentle stare caused a light blush to dust her cheeks. She let out an exasperated sigh as she returned her attention to his wounds. "Yes, but at what cost? You could've died!"
Therion turned his head away as she looked over him.
"Here, lay down," she commanded as she unhooked her cloak and bundled it up as a makeshift pillow for him. Therion obeyed, releasing a long hiss in pain as he stretched back onto the ground. Her nimble fingers busied themselves with ripping apart the damaged fabric of his tunic so that she could get better access to his injuries.
"These are deep wounds...my healing can only help so much. These most likely will scar," her voice was soft as she tested the tender skin of his wounded stomach. The longer she stared at his wounded torso, the more faded markings she noticed littering his patchy skin.
Therion made an uncomfortable noise and shifted beneath her ghostly touch. Ophilia apologized and withdrew her hands. He refused to meet her gaze, and she studied his tense profile.
"At least these ones are scars I can be proud of."
Ophilia's hands fisted in her lap at his sad admission. Everyone in their group had issues, but Therion was especially closed off when it came to his past. He rarely talked, and always seemed to be the hardest to understand regarding his motives. Ophilia really didn't know much about the quiet thief, except that he was indentured to a wealthy duchess of some sort.
Her gaze shifted to the bulky chain binding his wrist. She understood feeling indebted and carrying out tasks to help a loved one, but she couldn't imagine what it would feel like to be forced into such an arrangement with a perfect stranger.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what to say…" she admitted.
"Don't worry about it. There's nothing to say."
Therion turned back to her crestfallen expression and shifted to a sitting position. Ophilia placed her hand on his shoulder to help steady him. "You really shouldn't be sitting up."
"I know."
Their eyes wearily met and Therion dared to reach towards her face. He relished the sensation of her warm breath tickling his fingertips as he cupped her chin between his fingers. Confusion flickered in her eyes, though she did not move away from his touch.
Therion gently guided her head so he could inspect her face for injuries. She was a bit scuffed up, but she'd be fine after a bath and some rest. A glance down at her body showed a blood-stained dress, but up close he realized her dress was not damaged. It was blood from the enemy, not her own.
Pleased with her lack of serious wounds, he dropped his hand, allowing his fingers to lightly brush the side of her jaw and down her throat before settling them back into his lap.
Therion offered her a teasing smirk. He hoped it hid the pleased smile that threatened to expose itself after taking note of her wondrous expression. "I'm glad you're alright."
Ophilia, still taken aback by the intimate contact, mutely nodded.
"Anyways, you gonna heal me or what?" he raised a brow, breaking the moment between them.
Ophilia let out a breathy chuckle as she reached for her staff. "Of course! Healing is what I'm known for."
Therion slowly reclined back down on the ground as Ophilia held the staff over his stomach.
"Bring about the miracle of healing…" she recited the incantation under her breath as the staff began to glow with a warm, white light. The wounds on Therion's stomach began to thread back together. He tried to refrain from twitching uncomfortably at the sensation.
The sound of running signaled them to their approaching comrades as the the healing spell fizzled out. Ophilia smiled in relief as she looked up to the two men headed towards them.
"Are you alright?" Cyrus called as he jogged with a waving hand towards them. Olberic was right on his heels with a concerned look etched into his mature face.
"Yes, we're fine! Just a little banged up," Ophilia relayed.
The fight was over, but Therion felt a bit jaded that his one-on-one time with Ophilia was coming to a close. With the help of the cleric, he sat back up, and she kindly dusted the dirt off his back and shoulders.
"I hate that you put yourself in danger for my sake, but thank you, Therion." Her voice was small beside his shoulder.
Therion solemnly observed her flushed face.
The cleric couldn't meet his gaze, but his heart soared at her acknowledgement.
"Anytime."
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Therion crossed his arms and frowned at the back of the scholar's stupid, pretty head.
Why did that guy get to be the one to carry her?
He knew it was because Ophilia was smaller than he was, so it made sense for Cyrus to carry the lighter person. Even so, that still didn't stop the thief from feeling bothered by the arrangement.
A hushed giggle came from the cleric, but nothing of their conversation could be heard as the pair walked too far ahead. Therion felt his frown etch deeper into his face.
"What's the problem?"
The thief looked up at Olberic's flat expression.
"Nothing."
He already hated that both Ophilia and himself were deemed "too weak" to walk the long road back to camp, but being princess carried by the large swordsman was the icing on the cake that was Therion's foul mood.
It'd have been less embarrassing to be piggybacking on the wall of a man, but Therion's stomach wounds were still tender. Ophilia insisted that he would be better off carried in a more gentle way.
Most of his frustration, however, could be attributed to the fact that Cyrus was the one carrying Ophilia.
They truly looked the picture of a princess being whisked away by her gallant prince.
"I'm not a dense man. I can sense the jealousy radiating off you in waves."
Therion scoffed, "Really? And what do I have to be jealous about?"
"The scholar, it seems." Olberic inclined his chin towards their comrade up ahead.
Therion mentally cursed the attentive man. "So what, I'm frowning. That doesn't mean anything."
"It does, as Ophilia is now in his arms, giggling at whatever sweet things he is saying."
The thief crossed his arms tighter across his torso and rolled his eyes.
"You risked your life to rush to her aide when she clearly could've protected herself," the swordsman pointed out.
Therion shot him a sour look and opened his mouth to retort, but Olberic halted his effort. "You know she's more than capable of defending herself against a hound, even if she was weakened. If you hadn't rushed after her like a madman, she wouldn't have been distracted."
The thief in his arms huffed in indignation, but Olberic knew he had hit the nail on the head.
"I saw you touch Ophilia before she healed you. I'm a lone wolf now, but trust me kid, I know a tender gesture when I see one."
Blood rushed to Therion's face, and he settled down farther into his scarf in a sorry attempt to escape Olberic's curious gaze. He hadn't expected his actions to be so obvious, or to be so ruthlessly called out by the older man.
The memory of Ophilia's soft skin made his fingers tingle, and Therion clenched his fists to desperately get rid of the sensation.
Olberic ignored the teammate's bashful mannerisms. "And now you have to watch her be carried in the arms of another man. I get it."
How mortifying, to be so easily read.
"That obvious, huh?"
"Only when you two are together. Our parties switch up often enough that I doubt anyone else has payed you enough notice to catch on."
"Gee, thanks," Therion muttered as he rolled his eyes, but inwardly he felt comforted by this observation. The swordsman was probably the least harmful person to confide in, as he rarely spoke, much less gossipped like a bored homemaker. At least the thief could rest easy knowing the other man wouldn't blab his secret to everyone in the group.
Unlike Tressa, he sarcastically thought.
Olberic adjusted his grip on Therion and chuckled, "You do have at least one advantage over him."
As much as it pained him to confide to someone in their group that he had settled his affections on their cleric - and in turn, felt inferior to their scholar - Therion couldn't help but prod, "Oh yeah? What's that?"
A smirk pulled on the swordsman's lips as he focused his gaze on the billowing black and white cloaks of the pair ahead.
"Cyrus is a good guy, and book smart of course...but he can be more oblivious than a pile of bricks."
Therion snorted and shook his head, feeling the tenseness in his shoulders lessen. "Gods, I need a drink."
Olberic let out a hearty chuckle this time, attracting the attention of the pair ahead of them. "You and me both, kid."
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Ophilia sighed as she stretched her arms across the makeshift wooden table at their base camp. It was the day after the direhound ambush, and she was just glad no one was in immediate danger from their injuries. Therion, who had the worst of it all, appeared to be healing nicely.
To her dismay, he had returned to his aloof demeanor and sulked around away from the group. It was so unlike the unbridled energy she had witnessed in him the day before, and she couldn't figure out why he acted out of character in such a way.
It must've just been the adrenaline from battle, she mused. She propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands.
"Hey, Cyrus." Brown eyes flickered over to Cyrus, who casually sat back against the table on the bench opposite her.
His finger rested on a section of the page within the worn tome nestled between his legs. The scholar's long, raven hair was pulled back into his signature ponytail, and a curious look painted his handsome face as he addressed her over his shoulder. "Yes?"
"Why do you think Therion did that?"
"What? Came to your aide?"
"Yes."
Cyrus regarded her with an even stare, but Ophilia could tell he wanted her to explain further. That man was always thirsty for knowledge of any kind, even going so far as to scrutinize his own party members over the smallest of things. It was a wonder how a man so smart could be so blind to the matters of emotions and the heart. Ophilia inwardly sighed for the poor, swooning women back at Cyrus's school who had to deal with unrequited feelings for the man.
"Does it not seem out of character for him? To rush to someone's aide, that is?" Ophilia let her gaze trail around the camp to locate the other two members of their party.
Olberic busied himself with polishing his sword beneath the shade of a nearby tree, but the thief was nowhere to be found.
She frowned, wondering why she felt disappointed.
"Maybe he's decided to finally become a team player?" Cyrus offered, but when Ophilia scrunched her nose up in disagreement, he shrugged, "Maybe he just wanted to be your white knight."
The cleric could barely hold in a scoff of disbelief as she stared at her companion.
A white knight, huh?
When Cyrus did nothing by stare at her expectantly, Ophilia averted her gaze and prayed the warmth rising to her cheeks was not too noticeable.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Cyrus."
Her scholar friend chuckled and turned back to his book, allowing her some privacy from his prying gaze. "Surely you understand what a white knight is, Ophilia." He nonchalantly flipped through a few more pages.
As if a light bulb just went off above his head, Cyrus cupped his chin and simpered to himself, "Or in this case, the knight dons a rustic purple poncho."
Ophilia bit the inside of her cheek and picked a random tree to stare at. She crossed her arms. "He's not my white knight, Cy...but he did go out of his way to save me yesterday."
"Sounds like a white knight to me. Or at least, you know, a purple one." T
he cleric couldn't fight the amused smile that tugged on her lips. "Fine, I suppose you make a compelling argument."
She playfully rolled her eyes at Cyrus's smug expression. He resumed reading, and Ophilia listened to the soft fluttering as he turned a couple of pages.
"Rationally, I can only assume it was because you're his teammate. He assessed you were in trouble, and he was the one nearby to aide."
"Maybe…"
"You don't sound convinced."
"It just doesn't fit what we know of his combat style. When have you ever seen him act so recklessly on another's behalf like that? Olberic, sure. But Therion?"
The scholar gave a thoughtful hum in agreement.
"What compelled him to do such a thing?" Ophilia muttered to herself and propped her chin in her palm.
And why did he touch my face in such a tender way?
"You can sit here and speculate all day, but a true scholar sets off in pursuit of knowledge straight from the source."
Ophilia blinked a few times at Cyrus's simple answer, a bit taken aback that she hadn't thought of the obvious herself.
"You may be onto something yet, Cy," she said in a faraway tone.
It was her companion's turn to roll his eyes. "Most problems can be solved simply by obtaining more information. Last I saw, he disappeared over by that boulder." The scholar pointed at a large rock that was planted at the edge of the camp, nestled right up against the forest-line.
Ophilia hummed in acknowledgement and absentmindedly scratched at the wooden table. "I'll have to seek him out later."
Cyrus nodded as he continued to read, leaving his companion to her thoughts.
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Therion leaned against the obtusely large boulder at the edge of their camp. It was nestled along the treeline, just far enough for him to have privacy and a space away from the group, but close enough that he could jump to help if anything were to happen.
The thief sighed and pulled out a dented flask from his pocket. The metal was cool to the touch, and he greedily chugged a long gulp of the lukewarm alcohol. Flask whiskey wasn't as refreshing as an ice cold beer from the tavern, but it'd do for now.
"Therion?"
He tensed at the a familiar voice calling out for him. Therion pocketed his flask just as Ophilia rounded the boulder and caught sight of him.
"So you were hiding out here."
A grunt was her only reply, and Therion cautiously assessed her.
"Feeling better?" he asked.
"Yes, much better. You?"
His hand moved to rest on his tender stomach. "The pain has mostly subsided, though I still feel a bit sore."
Ophilia nodded, as if expecting that answer. Despite her friendly smile, there was a stiffness to her posture. It seemed she had something she wanted to say, but was having a hard time figuring out how to voice whatever was on her mind.
"Need something?" his voice came out harsher than intended.
The smile on her face faltered slightly.
Great, now he went and made her uncomfortable.
She gave an awkward chuckle and nervously tucked her hair back behind an ear, "No, I guess not. I just came to talk. And thank you again for yesterday."
"Ah."
Despite keeping a cool demeanor on the outside, Therion's heart leapt at her presence.
"Here, I brought you these as a thank you present." She offered him a small bundle wrapped in a purple cloth.
"Really, it's nothing to worry about," he tutted, but graciously took the present and untied the knot. The fabric fell down to reveal a small pile of apple slices, carefully cut into the likeness of snowbunnies.
Ophilia giggled softly at his awed reaction, "Aren't they cute?"
Therion looked between the treats and the cleric's bright smile. He gulped, the remnants of hot whisky in his throat not helping the tightness he was feeling. "Yes, very."
"Good! I was hoping you'd like them. I see you always favor apples whenever we go to town, so I wanted to make them a bit more special."
Therion looked back down at the treats. Even though his occupation was as a thief, he felt disconcerted to know a woman of the church bore witness to him stealing from those trying to make an honest living. Especially when said woman was the object of his affections, and someone he didn't want privy to his unsavory lifestyle.
Ophilia seemed unphased, though an air of uncertainty hung around her. "Sorry, I don't mean to tease. I genuinely am grateful for your help yesterday. You didn't need to go out of your way for my sake."
Therion's side closest to her grew warm as she leaned against the rock wall beside him.
"I know, but I wanted to help."
With a cautious hand, he picked the bunny apple on top of the pile and inspected its little features. The careful strokes creating the likeness of a rabbit didn't look easy to do. It must've taken her at least ten minutes to craft each slice.
"You didn't have to go out of your way to create these." He turned the apple in hand so that the bunny eyes were staring down at his shorter companion. "They're just apples. It'd be less effort to cut them normally since they're going to be eaten anyways," he lectured.
Ophilia looked at the innocent bunny's face, then to Therion's perplexed expression.
"But doesn't it make you happy?" She asked as she reached over to pluck up an apple and admire her handiwork.
"Yes, I think so." Therion regarded the apple again, twisting it so that the bunny held in his fingers was facing him once more. The cute apple slice stared back at him, failing to give him the answer to understand what Ophilia was getting at.
"Then that's all that matters."
"Is it?" His head tilted slightly as he searched her brown eyes.
"Whether it was warranted or not, you risked your life for me." She smiled down at the apple bunny held carefully between her fingers. "So while you can easily eat and be rid of them in a matter of minutes, the time and effort put into making them is not wasted, so long as it makes you happy. I wanted to pay you back somehow, even if it is just with a little snack."
Damn this woman, she really was too kind for her own good.
The thief carefully nestled the kerchief of apples inside his bag at his feet, then straightened up so that he was directly facing her.
A small "hmm?" came from Ophilia, who curiously peered up at him through dark lashes. He reached his hands out to gently cup her face, his fingertips ghosting against her cheeks and throat. Ophilia froze, dropping her apple slice in surprise, but did not push him away.
With his name hanging on her lips, she studied his face, completely entranced just as she had been when he reached for her when attending to his wounds.
Without regard for the consequences of his actions, he gave into his instincts and did what thieves did best.
Therion leaned down to meet her lips and steal a chaste kiss.
It was light and innocent, but a fire ignited within his chest as their lips brushed for the first time. The warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips sent sparks up his arms, and it took everything in him to not cage her against the rock wall and kiss her harder.
A muffled intake of breath came from her, causing Therion to pull away. A wave of shame replaced the split second stream of pleasure that coursed through his veins.
Ophilia's flushed face stared back at him, her brows knit tightly together as she tried to process what he had just done. She hid her lips behind her hand.
"Was that why you rushed to protect me?" she hesitantly asked between her fingers, though the dawning gleam in her eyes told Therion she already knew the answer to her question.
There was no use hiding his feelings anymore, especially after displaying them so boldly.
"Yes," he breathed softly.
An unreadable expression painted her porcelain face, and Therion began to inwardly fret. He had grossly overstepped boundaries without her permission, and now he faced certain rejection. Someone like him was not suited for a woman of the church, especially when she already had a more appropriate and respectable suitor.
"I had no idea." She averted her gaze to the ground, but brought her hands up to rest atop his hands that were still outreached to cradle her face.
Thinking she meant to push him away, Therion withdrew as if he had been burned, but to his surprise, she clasped onto one of his hands to stop him from fully backing away.
"I wish you would've let me know. I'm sorry you've had to keep these feelings to yourself."
The sympathy in her eyes was too much.
Heat rose to his face, both from his vulnerable position and from confusion as to why she was not throwing a fit or running away. However, he couldn't refrain from scoffing at her words. "I don't want your pity, and it's nothing for you to be sorry for. I'm the one who should be apologizing for defiling you in such a way."
"A kiss itself is not a defining action, especially if it is born from such pure emotions," she said, as if this notion was a fact that she full-heartedly believed in.
Therion's hand within her grip tightened into a fist as he tried to regulate his breathing. Her large brown eyes glittered up at him, and Therion knew his affection for her had not been misplaced.
"Admittedly, I am a bit shocked. I didn't think you even liked me as a traveling companion, much less…" she trailed off and bashfully turned her head away.
To Therion's relief, however, there was a pleased smile on her rosebud lips.
He pulled his hand away from her, though he hated to withdraw from her warmth. The thief let out a sigh and fell back against the stone wall, allowing his body to slide down until he was sitting with his arms stretched out to rest on his bent knees. Ophilia smoothed out her dress and followed him to the grassy floor to sit comfortably beside him. The sound of the quiet forest around them filled the air as they processed his confession.
Ophilia was the first to speak up again. "May I ask...what exactly lead you to form these kinds of feelings for me?"
It was a valid question, but the uncertainty of voicing this inquiry out loud rang clearly in her soft voice.
He had feelings for her, and now she knew about them. It was all out in the open now.
Therion shifted awkwardly, but knew he at least owed her an explanation. He grabbed for the bunny apple she had dropped before he kissed her. The apple stared back at him, and Therion kept his attention trained on it, too self conscious to meet Ophilia's gaze. "I'm not really sure when exactly it happened, but one day you just stood out to me."
He wiped at the dirt on the apple. It became a welcome distraction as he cautiously opened up to the woman beside him. "Whether you realize it or not, you're a positive light for everyone in our group. One day, I came to realize that you've somehow become my own personal light as well."
Ophilia remained silent at his vague admission. She began to tug on the soft grass beneath them in an effort to busy her hands.
"I'm really not that special," she insisted, "I'm just on a quest like everyone else."
The setting sunlight filtering down on them was warm, but her somber tone sent a shiver down Therion's spine. If only she could see the strong person that he saw every time he looked at her.
Funny that you think this, yet dropped everything to jump to her aide, as if she was a helpless damsel in distress, he bitterly reflected.
"Yeah, you're right. On second thought, you're not that special after all," he quipped.
Ophilia snapped her chin up, but once she saw the sly smirk on Therion's lips, she let out a breathy laugh.
"But really, your mission is…" he trailed off and twirled the apple between his fingers, carefully trying to select an appropriate word, "Selfless. And I find that admirable."
"Selfless?"
"We're all out here seeking revenge, riches, or traveling just for the hell of it. All to fulfill our own selfish desires. You're the only one who willingly set out for the sake of someone else," he explained.
Her brows furrowed in pity, understanding that he himself was not traveling on his own volition.
What she didn't know was that while he was indentured and carrying out another's missions, he too, had been offered a great bounty for his troubles upon completion.
He was perhaps the most selfish of them all.
"Hm, maybe. When Archbishop Josef fell ill, it seemed cruel to make Lianna leave his side. I set off to complete the Kindling in her stead." Ophilia tried to pass this off as nonchalant, but the longing that pooled within her eyes betrayed her deep emotions towards her predicament. "Anyone in my situation would've done the same."
Therion wasn't convinced.
"And forcing yourself to leave his side was less cruel?" He clamped down on his tongue, mortified that he let that thought slip past his lips.
The cleric averted her gaze, but didn't hesitate to answer, "Yes. He treated me as if I was his daughter, but Lianna...well, she is his real daughter. I will always be grateful for what they have done for me, which was why I chose to leave. I wish I could be at their side now, but someone has to carry the flame. Like everyone else, I'm only trying to fulfill my duty."
Her eyes flickered back to him, and a powerful determination shone within them.
Therion felt his breath hitch in his throat, but he tried to cover up his awe with a scoff. "You're truly something else, Ophilia."
Her steeled resolve fizzled to become replaced with a bashful blush. "A good sort of something else, I hope?"
"Of course. I thought I had already made that painfully clear."
The thief chuckled softly and bit into the now clean apple slice. As he chewed, Therion realized he felt completely at ease sitting here in her presence.
A comforting warmth settled into his belly as he ate the treat she had prepared specially for him. "These are good. Thank you."
The woman beamed at him. "I'm glad. And Therion, about that kiss..."
He froze mid-bite.
"I'm flattered, really, but I'm unsure if I can return the sentiment yet."
Therion swallowed not only the food, but the lump of apprehension that had lodged in his throat. This response was not a surprise, but he couldn't help but feel hurt by the rejection.
"I do like you as a companion though. I'd like to know more about you and become closer. Who knows, maybe someday..." her voice was small, as if she wasn't sure if he would like what he heard.
Maybe someday…
He was surprised she would even entertain the idea of ever returning his feelings, but the longer he stared at her flushed face as her sweet brown eyes wavered on him, the more optimistic his heart felt.
"So you're not completely turned off by me?"
Ophilia held back a laugh, causing Therion's face to grow red. "No, definitely not." She tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear and shyly glanced up at him through her dark lashes, "For what it's worth, I've always thought you were very handsome."
Well, that was one way to bolster his ego.
"Were? Am I not anymore?"
Ophilia sputtered out a soft laugh, "No, you still are! That wasn't the best choice of words on my part."
Therion smiled to himself and shook his head.
"But it wouldn't be fair to you to say I return your feelings unless I was absolutely certain that I was in love with you first," her voice grew quiet as she said the last part of the sentence, but even just hearing her say the word 'love' gave Therion goosebumps.
"That's fair," he assured.
"So...friends? For now?" The cleric held her hand out to him, and Therion fondly nodded his head.
As if he could ever reject her.
"Friends."
He grasped her hand, impressed by how nicely it fit in his, as if they were made for one another.
Okay, slow down now, he chided himself.
Pleased by their newly forged bond, Ophilia visibly relaxed and scooted to lean back against the rock beside him.
"So, as a friend, can I ask you something kind of personal?" She looked at him curiously.
Therion reached for another apple slice and munched on it, giving her another simple nod in reply.
"Was this your first kiss?"
The apple scratched against his throat as Therion choked at her question. He quickly regained his composure and turned to meet her amused grin. When he didn't answer, she tilted her head expectantly. Somehow, her eyes seemed bigger and more innocent, even though the question she asked was anything but.
Therion sighed. He'd never be able to withhold anything from her. "No. It wasn't."
Ophilia's brows twitched the slightest in interest, and she let out a long, thoughtful hum.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing. Since we're being honest, I might as well tell you that this actually was my first kiss that you stole."
His mouth fell slightly ajar in shock. "Really?"
She crossed her arms and put her chin up. Therion feared he may have actually offended her.
Was she self conscious about never having kissed someone before?
"You do know that I grew up an orphan within the church right?"
"Well, yeah, but…"
"I was the daughter of the Archbishop, and kept the company of nuns my whole life. When would I have ever had time to meet a man, much less kiss one?"
He was at a loss for words, and shame started to creep up his spine.
"Greta would have a cow if she heard my first kiss was literally stolen by a thief," she laughed.
A playful smile tugged the corner of her lips at Therion's gaping expression. She uncrossed her arms, grabbed his bicep, and shook him gently. "I'm just teasing! You should see your face, you're as white as a ghost."
He shielded his face with his bulky scarf as Ophilia giggled beside him.
"I'm sorry for being the one to ruin your special first kiss," he muttered.
"You didn't ruin it."
He peeked at her above the hem of the scarf, thankful that his lower face was obscured.
"It was a special kiss, even if I wasn't expecting it. Because now I'm here getting to know you, which I never thought possible. I'm really happy."
The words that slipped past her lips almost destroyed his fragile heart in the best way possible.
"Really? You can't possibly mean that."
"I do!" she insisted, "I hope we can grow closer."
Therion tried not to read too far into her innocent words, but the flutter in his chest refused dissipate no matter how hard he mentally willed it to. "Yeah, I'd like that."
The pair sat against the rock as the sun began to set, sharing apples and exchanging questions about each other's lives.
As Therion listened to Ophilia excitedly relay a story from her childhood to him, he couldn't help but think that even though one day he would be free from his chains, he'd never want to be free from her.
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A/N: I hope you enjoyed :) Feel free to let me know what you for reading!