A/N: A friendly reminder that, as stated on my profile, while these versions of Dragon's Crown's six classes share the same names as those that appear in Dawn's Memoria, they are not the same group, as Dawn's Memoria takes place in a different universe than my planned Dragon's Crown verse.
Other than that, please enjoy!
At this point, she had forgotten exactly how she had met Roche the Wizard. There was something about him being a friend of Kenston the Fighter and that there was a random orc attack on a trade caravan where they first encountered each other. Other than that, it was all basically white noise. Not that she really cared, anyway.
Topaz the Amazon found herself filled with childlike curiosity. While everyone else in their party would be chatting and sharing drinks together in Dragon's Haven Inn after an adventure, Roche would be sitting in the corner with his nose in a spellbook, turning the pages with brown eyes scanning the text rapidly. Unless the others approached him and talked to him directly, he'd remain quiet and to himself. And, most of the time, they were too drunk to bother with this. Thus he was always by himself, always reading, always unspeaking.
It never took Topaz more than five minutes to get bored of the dull chatter from Nathalie, Rannie, and Eamonn. When that happened, she'd stand up and strut over to him, her figure coming to lean on his table with a silly grin plastered on her face. Roche would look up and raise an inquisitive eyebrow. In reply, she'd give him her usual quip.
"So," she said. "What mysterious mischief are you up to?"
Funnily enough, despite being so quiet when left alone, he would have a lot to say if prodded with a stick. This was more apparent in combat when everyone was shouting and yelling at each other, Topaz included.
Back to back and surrounded by orcs, the Amazon would hum pleasantly as she spoke. "So, what spell are you using this time?"
"Lightning," he'd say simply. Topaz would roll her eyes.
"BOR-ING! Use some fire, would ya?" She'd leap at an orc with a stench too foul and offending to ignore and slam her ax into him, sending him flying into his friend behind him.
Roche sighed loudly.
"Wrong staff, Patty," he'd say, using the pleasant nickname everyone had given her. His eyes would flash red and he'd teleport, appearing behind the orcs and humorously shocking their rear ends with electricity. Topaz would then slash into their stomachs with her blade, ending them quickly and painfully.
Twirling her polearm and shouldering it, Topaz would step over the smoldering bodies with a smirk and poke his nose. "Oh, but you have a book don't ya? Silly Roche."
Strangely enough, he'd give her a smile for that.
"True, but I prefer reading when it's a bit quieter."
When did the sparks start to fly between them? It kind of just happened, really. Topaz had no way of explaining it, especially when Roche kind of just…acted like Roche.
Maybe it was best to describe themselves like a set of puzzle pieces. They were two completely different people, but there was a certain niche that allowed them to fit just right with each other. After all, even the others noticed the way they seemed at their calmest when with each other, sticking together and doing everything naturally despite Topaz's outlandishness and Roche's reclusiveness.
Yeah, Lucain would probably explain it as that.
During adventures when the party was required to camp for the night, the two would lean upon each other if it was their turn for watch. Roche would have his spellbook open and Topaz's green eyes would be scanning the horizon, always alert, always keeping an eye out for danger. It became commonplace for them to hook their arms together, as if worried they'd be lost in the darkness of night. They didn't actually worry, of course. That was what a campfire was for.
When they could sleep, though, that was when the warmer feelings happened.
They preferred to be leaning against something. Rocks would work, but trees were more comfortable. Roche would sit down first, with Topaz quickly plopping down next to him with no beckoning required. She'd make herself comfortable against him, head against his shoulder and an arm around his middle. Thank goodness this man wears so much padding, she'd sometimes think and giggle.
He'd put his own arm around her and rest his cheek on the top of her head. Their free hands would fall upon their laps, slowly entwining until they were clutching each other perfectly. That's when they'd fall asleep, their breaths acting as their secret lullaby.
Sometimes, Topaz wondered if Roche used his magic to give her pleasant dreams. It seemed likely, seeing as she hadn't had a nightmare in months.
To put it bluntly, they never considered themselves official. Even though the romance was definitely there, Topaz was pretty sure that they could go so far as to have a kid together and still call just themselves "combat partners." Still, she loved the heat between them and she could safely say that she loved him, inside and out.
She remembered that one time during a fight against some knights from an invading kingdom. Utterly surrounded, things looked pretty grim, but Roche admitted that the spell he had with him would annihilate their forces and grant them a quick escape.
A dozen swords surrounding them, the soldiers must've been dumbfounded at the sight. The two's limbs were entangled with each other, with Roche's hand supporting her by the small of her back while his other hand held a tome over their heads. Topaz's free hand held him by the back of his head, fingers quickly tangling in his long silver locks as she gave him an incredibly deep and burning kiss.
"We'll take this to a room in Dragon's Haven tonight, right?" She snickered pulling away a little.
"Maybe," he said with a tone that teased. "We just need to see if we live first."
The book slammed shut and a burst of fire lit up the knights. Topaz's laughter cut off by another kiss.