The first time Avitas felt happiness was when he was two. There was a loud thunderstorm raging outside his small bedroom window, frightening him. He had pushed aside his blanket in a rush, and ran as fast as his little feet could carry him to his parents' bedroom. He launched himself at them, tears streaming down his face. His father had chuckled and held him close, and his mother wiped the tears from his chubby face. Avitas fell asleep nestled in between them, warm and content, sincerely believing that no matter how many thunderstorms came, his parents would always be there to soothe him.
The first time Avitas felt despair was when he was four. He was playing in his room with his toys, a championship of the best toys battling it out with each other for the title of Supreme Champion, when he heard his mother let out a heart-wrenching wail. He immediately dropped his toys and ran to the kitchen, where his mother was sobbing with her head in her hands. "No, no, no" she had moaned, rocking back and forth. "He can't be dead, he can't be." His father would never hold him again in his strong arms, tuck Avitas's little head underneath his chin and tell him funny tales that made him laugh so hard his tummy hurt. Avitas felt himself crumble.
The first time Avitas had a crush was when he was seven. He doesn't remember her name anymore, but she had brown hair and gray eyes that shone so bright they put the stars to shame. He would bring his toys over to her house, for her family was poor and couldn't afford to buy her any, and they'd play together for hours. His mother would often tease him about her, but he didn't mind. He was gathering his toys into his bag one day, getting ready to go over and play with her again, when his mother had walked into his room with tears in her eyes. "She moved away," she said, offering no further details. It was only years later that he learned she had been sold for money.
The first time Avitas felt hopeless was when he was ten. He was sparring with a classmate when Commandant Laurentius had called him to his office, sat him down, and gently told him that his mother had passed away. For the second time in his short life, Avitas felt like someone had drove a blade viciously into his heart. He refused the Commandant's offer for a break from classes for a few days, and went back to his room, lying down on his bed. He didn't cry. He didn't think he had the energy to. But he felt like his heart was slowly being squeezed by an invisible hand. He soon found it hard to breathe.
The first time Avitas felt intrigued by another person was when he was twenty-three. The Commandant had informed him that he would be torturing information out of the Blood Shrike. Privately, he thought the Commandant was insane, but he carried out his duty nonetheless. The girl was beautiful, but he shut down his emotions, letting his cold calmness lead the interrogation. The Shrike took beating after beating, yet she never broke. Not even once. He had a feeling that she knew more than she let on, but she revealed nothing. Avitas marveled at the strength in this person. She carried mountains on her shoulders, yet stood tall.
The first time Avitas fell in love was shortly thereafter. He denied it at first, not letting himself think about the Blood Shrike more than strictly necessary. But when he witnessed her tenderness towards her family, her bravery when facing adversity, her prowess with her mysterious healing ability, he knew he could no longer convince himself that his concern for her safety was simply because he was her second. He went to sleep with Helene's eyes flashing in his mind, eyes so ocean blue that he drowned in them when Helene turned her attention to him. He woke to thoughts of her, of her icy blonde hair glistening in the sunlight, of her slender body, of her hands that had both mercilessly crushed her enemies and lovingly stroked her sister's hair. Avitas felt that, for the first time since he was ten, his heart was slowly mending back together. And he hated himself for letting it happen, because he didn't think he deserved happiness.
The first time Avitas felt regret was when he had walked into Helene's room after the battle at Antium. Relief flooded through him when he saw that she was awake. He had walked over to her, his heart pounding wildly, but his face betraying nothing. Nothing, until he gathered her hands in his, and pulled her close, pressing his lips against hers. When she pulled back, Avitas knew what she was thinking, knew she was about to close herself off yet again, knew he had to say something before she pushed him away– too late. As he walked away from her, he was angry at her for denying her feelings, yes, but he was mostly regretful for shattering their camaraderie.
The first time Avitas felt jubilant was when he was twenty-four. The Empire had been restored, and Zacharias was officially recognized as Emperor, with Livia as Empress regent. There was a festival taking place out in the streets of Antium, as the city had been won back, and Scholars (who had been freed by Livia) and Martials and Plebians alike were dancing with one another. Avitas felt the hands of many women brush his body as he made his way down the street to his room, and he politely declined their offers to dance. He had reached the doors of the barracks when he heard Helene call out to him. Turning around slowly, he paused a foot away from her. At her offer to dance, he was wary; he didn't want to ruin their newfound camaraderie once again. But she was insistent, and when she placed her hands on his arms and gently tugged him towards the music, he pretended not to see the blush on her face. Despite the fading light as the sun set, she was incandescent. They danced together, his arms locked around her waist. And when it got late, they walked back to the barracks together, arms brushing. He paused outside her room, bidding her goodnight and turned to leave, but Helene reached out, grabbed his hand, and pulled him inside her room.
The first time Avitas cried tears of joy was when he was thirty. Helene cried out in pain as another contraction passed through her, and she gripped his hands tightly. The midwife was murmuring soothing words of comfort, but Helene sought comfort from only one person. Avitas stayed close to her, caressing her face and pressing kisses to her temple as she whimpered in pain. He did his best to alleviate her discomfort, from massaging her sore back to wiping the sweat off her forehead, but all she really wanted was for him to hold her close. So he did. And he held tight to her hand when she pushed, and pushed, and pushed until their daughter entered the world, letting out a piercing cry. He wiped away his tears as the midwife placed his daughter on Helene's chest, and the three of them held onto each other.
The first time Avitas felt pride was when he was thirty-one. He watched his daughter take her first tentative steps towards him, her black hair softly fanning around her face, her blue eyes looking up at him in delight. Helene was right behind her, her strong arms hovering near their daughter's tiny body, ready to catch her if she fell. With Avitas's and Helene's encouragements, their daughter clumsily stumbled her way towards him, and as he gathered his daughter and his wife to his chest, hugging them both tightly, he felt that familiar warmth strumming in his chest. He pressed a kiss to his daughter's temple.
The second time Avitas felt happiness was when he was thirty-five. Like any other day, he woke up early, but this time he found the other side of the bed empty. He walked down the stairs of their home to find Helene in the kitchen, cooking his favorite chocolate pancakes. He slid behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her neck. "Happy birthday," she said brightly, turning around in his arms to press herself to him. He had honestly forgotten, never considering the day he'd been born to be of any particular importance. The pancakes were soon forgotten as they capitalized on some alone time together before the kids woke up. But when they did wake up, they rushed to him with their clumsily-wrapped presents in hand. As Avitas ate breakfast with his beautiful family, he felt his eyes prickle with tears. He didn't think he'd ever been happier.
The second time Avitas felt despair was when he was eighty, and Helene had passed away. They both knew it was coming, but it didn't lessen the pain. He held her aged body close to his, and Helene's head was tucked securely under his chin. He pressed kisses to her white hair. They were surrounded by their children, all who were solemn faced. "Promise me you won't remain in despair for too long," Helene said, searching his eyes with her own. Old age hadn't taken away their luster. You might as well ask me to breathe underwater, Avitas thought. Helene squeezed his arm gently one final time before she took her last breath, his name a final whisper of love on her lips.
The second time Avitas felt jubilant was when he himself was about to pass away. He felt fearful of the unknown, not knowing what to expect. But whenever his fear would reach its zenith, he would always feel the familiar brush of Helene's hand on his face, comforting him. And though he couldn't see her, he knew she was waiting for him. Together, they would cross into the afterlife. Avitas looked fondly at his children and grandchildren who had gathered around him. When it was time to go, his heart was at ease, for he knew who was waiting for him. When he saw her at last, radiant as always, he took her extended hand in his, and together, they walked on.
*I took some liberties with the story. If anyone has any corrections, please let me know! Obviously, take this with a grain of salt (I'm sure Avitas was happy on more than just two occasions in his life). There's so little Helvitas fanfics, so I decided to tackle this problem head-on.