He takes her hand one morning, he thinks maybe a month after Yhwach faded into the ether, and takes her away from her work, away from duty and civilization. They end up in a meadow, in the forests near the 13th divisions training grounds.
It's a peaceful spot. There's a breeze. It ripples across the grasses and through the leaves.
He sits down at a tree near the edge of the clearing, his back to it, leaning on the trunk. He pulls her down with him, between his spread legs, her back to his chest. He wraps his arms around her stomach, holds tight. She folds her hands across them. His chin is over her shoulder, buried at the juncture to her neck, just that spot he had dreamed about, a lifetime ago it seems. He closes his eyes and pulls her closer.
Her breath hitches. She does nothing to disturb their position. Her thumb rubs gently over his forearm.
She stares blankly out at the meadow, her mind empty, her head resting on his.
They sit there silently.
Eventually, he relaxes against the tree with a huff and she's leaning back on him, his arms still wrapped around her.
They've laced their fingers together now.
