Oh look! Funtimes and emotions and stuff
This was not the way it was supposed to end.
Irving was supposed to write back. He was supposed to have received a letter when the battle was over.
He'd heard nothing for a month.
Only that the Warden they'd recruited from his mages had slain the Archdemon and had died defending them from the blight.
He was inconsolable. He locked himself in their room every night, twisted in grief on the bed, only facing the day because his duty demanded he do so.
When the bright lights of morning had seared his eyes yet again, he completed his duties by rote. He didn't care what was going on around him... until he heard the heralding horns ring out from across the lake. The mages were returning. They hadn't died. Whispers of students reached his ears that Irving was on the first boat over the lake.
The crushing despair that had weighed on his shoulders for weeks finally lifted. He could breathe again. No more nights clutching at the pillows. No more days spent an emotional wreck, barely able to function. His lover was home. Not alone. Never again.
He dressed as quickly as he could, leaving his ceremonial armor behind. He felt naked without it, but it was over. Time to leave being the Knight Commander behind, if just for a little while. Irving was returning to him. He could finally let himself show true. He stepped out of the front doors just as the boat knocked into the dock, and he locked eyes with his lover.
Irving was still bruised and battered and a little singed, but he was whole. And he was here. Greagoir let out a deep sigh of relief and opened his arms, moving forward to crush the First Enchanter in an embrace.
"Your initiates are watching," Irving murmured into his ear, returning the hug.
"Let them. I'm done with this, Irving. I will not lose you. Not now, not ever." Greagoir hugged his lover tighter. "I'm not hiding anymore." His smile widened and he tilted his head slightly upwards, locking their lips in a kiss. He was oblivious to the stares and whispers from templars and mages alike as he renewed his bond with Irving.
When the kiss finally ended and he noticed Irving's smirk, he let out a grumpy, "What?"
"My dear, Greagoir," he chuckled, "It's adorable how oblivious you are."
Greagoir was interrupted before he could properly formulate a reply by a young male voice, "See?! I told you! You owe me two Sovereigns."
The Knight-Commander turned an irritated glare at the mage and the templar currently exchanging coins. The two of them let out twin squeaks and sprinted out of his line of sight. He gave a frustrated growl and turned back to Irving, expression softening, "Let's get you inside, Irving. I want to make sure you're alright."
Irving smiled at him and followed, "You think I can't heal myself, Greagoir? I'm not entirely useless these days."
Greagoir kept quiet until they'd arrived in their rooms. "I'm not saying you're useless, Irving. But look at you. You're still..."
"Singed?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry, Greagoir, for not writing to you. I never got the chance between the ceremonies and healing the mages who fell when we were summoned to the top of Fort Drakon." Irving started pulling his robes off, glad to finally be home again.
"On top of... That little brat had you help him fight the Archdemon?!" Greagoir was beyond upset. He thought the magelet had more sense than that.
"It wasn't a senseless act. We were the best choice for what he planned to do. And we.. most of us survived." Irving sat heavily on the bed with a small sigh, "He thought the sacrifice well worth it. If only there had been a better way."
"What do you mean?"
"I saw him kill the Archdemon, and then there was that explosion of light, and when we looked back, he was dead."
"I see." They were silent for a few moments before Greagoir spoke up again. "Come here and sit down, Irving. I've got a few poultices set aside, let's see if we can't clear those burns up, hm?"
When Irving had been healed to the best of their abilities he leaned back on the bed, beckoned Greagoir and patted the spot beside him. "Greagoir," he began, "I never thought I would see you again. We're getting too old for this sort of thing."
Greagoir sat next to him and pulled Irving into another hug, "Then we'll retire. Spend our days in Rivain."
"I very much like the sound of that." Irving turned his head, brushing his lips along Greagoir's cheek, above the other man's fringe of beard. "What shall we do until then, my love?"
Greagoir smiled and turned his head slightly to capture his lover's lips with his own. "I'm sure we'll think of something."