Carving
by the Legendary Armor
A/N: This is for my friend RedGems, who I am sure tires of my slow writing and tendency to be distracted. This is based on the theme of Valentine's Day, which was, of course, two months ago. I'm just awesome that way, haha. Hope you enjoy!
The lone wyvern lord strolled idly away from the bustling supply wagons, a fresh whetstone in his hand. He was, perhaps, the only person in the camp making such a trip for something such as a weapon…
Indeed, he was rather alienated from everyone even more so than usual… Surrounded by eager soldiers carrying flowers, food and gems, he surely had been the only one feeling a sense of resentment in himself at the advent of this holiday of love.
He rationalized this feeling to himself by thinking about it almost constantly, of course, and making up reasons—all easily countered—why they shouldn't be taking the time to celebrate. They were soldiers. There was a war in action! And yet, with an abrupt lull in the fighting and missions for a change, the entire army had rejoiced and begun readying for the day of hearts.
Despite the lack of a threat, despite the lack of any danger of surprise attacks, Cormag was still put off by the entire thing.
In the back of his mind, he realized—and didn't entirely want to acknowledge—that it wasn't the celebration or levity that was bothering him so… it was the fact that every single soldier in the army—even Prince Innes, for Latona's sake!—seemed to have a special someone but him. It was childish, perhaps, but it was lonely like this… and frustrating.
Solemnly he went back to the tent he'd been sharing with the Silver Knight of Renais, who had befriended him almost as soon as he'd joined up with the army. Once inside, he found the redhead dutifully sleeping, and decided he felt like an afternoon nap himself… he had nothing better to do, after all. Quietly, he removed his armor and put it into a neat pile, climbing into his bedroll and dozing off…
As the minutes passed and the wyvern lord's breathing slowed and eased into the steady rhythm of deep sleep, Seth opened his eyes and crept out of his bedding with the hints of a smile on his pale face. He grabbed a rag, a jug of water and a container of armor polish from the top of a bag with his own miscellaneous items (such as his own whetstone), and sneaked over to the pile of Cormag's armor, which rested just beside the blond.
He sat cross-legged, dipped the rag into the water, and began to carefully clean every single piece. Once that task was completed, he carefully and lovingly began to polish each piece of the strong, blue metal until it all shone like new, but for the dents and scratches of wear. Pulling out a small dagger from his boot, he etched something onto the right gauntlet—it took a while, for he made the marks deep—then promptly replaced everything as it was before he strolled from the tent to assist in cooking the evening meal.
Cormag woke to the glorified yells that it was nearly supper time, along with the announcement that any who didn't show up at the campfire would have food brought right to their tents as a courtesy.
Rubbing his eyes, he grumbled to himself before looking over to see that Seth wasn't there. Trying his best to ignore the vague feeling of disappointment that arose in him, he reached over to grab a sweater—it was slightly chilly, and he wasn't used to not having his armor on at all times of day.
And that was when a gleam caught his eye.
His armor was not in the exact same setup that he'd had it in, and it shone with renewed beauty even in the dim light of the tent. Slightly dazed, he looked over every piece—each had been cleaned and polished. This would have taken a patient, loving job… He was almost sure of the source of this restoration, yet his slight case of nerves and emotional distance kept him from fully embracing the idea.
Yet, looking over the pieces, he caught a glimpse of words on his right gauntlet—the one that protected his weapon arm. Impossible…
He picked it up and peered at it, and sure enough, on the plate that covered the hand was etched deep into the metal—
Silver Knight – Forever Yours
He felt his breath catch in his throat, and he nearly dropped the gauntlet in surprise as Seth suddenly opened the tent flap, carrying a giant plate of food (was that roast deer and vegetable soup?!) with two steaming mugs which presumably contained tea balanced on the sides.
The flame-haired paladin was all smiles. His voice, as always, sent fire running through Cormag's veins… "I apologize if I startled you. Everyone is eating in their tents, mostly, with their closer comrades… so I thought I'd bring us a tray of food."
He placed the plate beside Cormag's renewed armor and sat close beside the wyvern lord on his bedroll as smiled as he sipped from one of the mugs. "It's like a feast tonight, Cormag… roast deer, vegetable soup, tea… ah, this holiday. It's wonderful… nothing eases a soldier's soul like good food and being with the people you cherish. No need for anything else, I believe."
Cormag nodded, still slightly dazed. He looked down at the gauntlet in his hands, and then looked back to his companion, who was sipping his tea with his eyes closed, his face a mask of contemplation.
"Seth… my armor…"
"Oh, that?" The thinner man chuckled. "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't cross the line on that one." He sipped his tea again, and looked more thoughtful. "I didn't think you'd want flowers or candy, or something of the like. It doesn't seem your style. And that polish… it may not last forever, but that carving is eternal."
Cormag's response was another nod, and he met Seth's kind crimson gaze with his own. "But what do these words mean?"
"Whatever you want them to," the Silver Knight replied with a small smile and another sip of his tea. He put the mug down as Cormag turned to face him more directly.
"Whatever I want?"
Seth turned as well, so they now faced each other. He met Cormag's intense stare with another smile—was this one a tad sly? Hopeful? Nervous?
"Absolutely," he replied, without hesitation.
Cormag inched forward, and leaned close—their legs and knees were touching, now, and their faces were not too terribly far apart. At that moment, he realized Seth's intentions—and he wasn't going to hide his own anymore. Life, as he'd been told once, was too short to not be true to yourself.
"Then they mean you love me," he replied without hesitation. A slight, uncharacteristic blush threatened to creep onto his cheeks at the boldness of which he spoke such words…
"Well, I must say, you're quite on the dot," Seth smiled, surprisingly calm. "That was my exact thought when I took a dagger to that armor."
Cormag's thinking process at that moment was a comparison something along the lines of this:
Seth loves me.
Seth gave me a wonderful present.
I love Seth as well.
I have no present for Seth.
The last of those four points was unacceptable, so of course, Cormag had to improvise.
His hands both shot out and gripped Seth's shoulders tightly. He took one look into those crimson eyes and then brought his face forward, locking them in a rough, sudden kiss which Seth gladly returned. Cormag had never really kissed anyone before, and he wasn't really the romantic type, so he had no idea what the hell he was doing—and yet, to the Silver Knight, that was part of the wyvern lord's charm.
After a moment, they broke the kiss, and Seth looked into his eyes with another one of his brilliant smiles. "I suppose one would consider us even now… though I would truly still like to pay you back for that."
The wyvern lord grinned back. This holiday wasn't so bad after all.
(end)
