The Future Absence
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His wife was still sleeping by the time he'd gotten back and the fact did not surprise him.

All wars were exhausting in their own way but the last one had just - had just hurt. Seeing their home covered in that black snow, their town besieged by Caitiff's monsters, their own dead forcibly turned into soldiers for that thing's army, his wife slowly breaking down as the stresses she'd been enduring finally started to catch up to her, his friend, his wife's partner-dragon, tainted by dark magic and being forced into spreading darkness over the continent -

It had just been horrible. Just. Absolutely horrible.

But the war was over now and, finally, things were starting to get back some semblance of normalcy. The barricades had been taken down, the repairs had finally gotten started, most of the civilians had returned to their homes, the adventurers had finally gotten some actual sleep, the snow had finally begun to thaw... things were looking up. After what happened in that war, he supposes things sort of had to.

If ending a war consisting of millions upon millions of undead a full day before the sadistic deadline that monster assigned didn't signal that the year was going to a better one, he didn't know what did.

About time, too. They all needed a better year. All of them.

He walks over to sit by where his wife was sleeping, making sure to stay as quiet as he could. Even after a good few days of almost nothing but sleep, his wife still looked exhausted. She'd been running herself ragged ever since Andre had been - ever since Caitiff had... well, she'd been running herself ragged for a damned long time now. She'd practically collapsed from exhaustion the minute the two of them got home, marking the first time he'd ever been the one to carry her to bed. Not that, he notes ruefully, he hadn't followed after. Working in the healing tents during a war wasn't exactly a job for the fainthearted and he had his own share of exhaustion to sleep through when the war was done.

Still, she'd been worse. While he'd mostly recovered after a full night's sleep, she'd slept on for almost two days before finally waking up and even then, she'd only managed to stay awake for about an hour before falling asleep into her stew.

Not that he held it against her, of course. She needed it and by the looks of things, she'd needed it rather badly. It had done her good, sleep. The dark shadows around her eyes had yet to fully fade but they'd at least already started to. She still had that sallow, pinched look from all those days with too-little sleep and too-little to eat, and her mouth was still chapped and dry from all those times she'd foregone drink but now that the war was done, he could fix that. A new plethora of scars marred her skin, more souvenirs from Caitiff's actions, but with time, his magic, and a few restoratives in her system, even those, he knew, would fade. He'd make sure of it.

That was just how they did things. She took care of the world as best she could. He took care of her in the same way.

He chuckles softly under his breath. The Hero's Hero indeed.

She stirs at the noise, one bloodshot eye opening to meet his. "Hey," she rasps, dry lips curling up into a semblance of a smile.

"Hey yourself," he says softly, smiling back even as he reached for the waterskin he'd placed at the ready by their bedside. "Are you alright?" He asks as he passes her the waterskin, noting her pale lips and making a note to cook something meaty for dinner. "You should go back to sleep."

She forces herself upward regardless, propping herself up on one elbow as she squinted out an open window before the sunlight forced her to stop. "T'sbright out," she mumbles, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Time?"

"It's afternoon, hon," he answers. "Would you like some lunch?"

She grunts. "Love some." Then, after squeezing out a bit of water from the skin onto her palm, she ground the heel of her palm against her eyes, yawning into her forearms as she did so. "Wh - where's Andy?" she asks, the words half-spoken, half-yawned. "He okay?"

"He's with Elysia," he says, smiling slightly. "She's making sure he's completely purified, though - " he adds upon seeing her suddenly look concerned. "I think he's clean. Dragons aren't my specialty but I looked him over and he seems clean to me."

She sighed, slumping slightly against the pillows, relief clear in both voice and posture. "Good... that's good. How about Alec? Where is she?"

"With your parents down at Ravenloss," he replies, a frown momentarily shadowing his features. "Some of the undead've stuck around and until we're sure that the last of them've been cleared out, we've decided to have her stay with them for the time being."

"They're - " she hesitates, looking down. He remembers, then, that she hadn't seen any of them since they'd evacuated down into the Ravenloss house. "They're all okay, right?"

"Of course," he says, looking at her with some amusement. "The war's over and, anyway, it's not like your sisters'd let anything happen to them."

Despite herself, she chuckles. "Yeah. How's everybody else? Caitiff - Caitiff's gone, right? And everyone - everyone is - "

He looks up. "I've heard Nythera said that she can't sense Caitiff anymore though no one knows for sure," he says carefully. "Artix says Caitiff's spirit should've been completely obliterated after your last fight, though." Then, he smiles. "Someone may or may not have tap-danced on the axe's remains after."

She stifles a laugh. "Who?"

He shrugs. "There was a line," he says lightly. "I may have taken a turn at it."

"Without me?" she mock-pouts.

"You had your chance, love," he says. "Don't be greedy."

"Spoilsport," she shoots back, smiling, stretching a bit as she got out of bed, accepting his hand as she steadied herself, leaning against a wall for additional support. "Everyone else?"

"Nothing exploded while you were out," he states dutifully. "The repairs've been going well, there haven't been too many monster attacks, and you really should stay home for a while." He looks at her at the last one, both eyebrows raised.

"I wasn't planning on going out, worrywart," she says, looking at him with a small, fond smile. "I think I'm overdue a break, honestly." As she said those words, she cracked out her neck and back; the sounds they made were unusually loud. She winced but he only smiled. "With Andy and Alec out, I suppose that means we're alone, for once." Now fully awake, she looks at him, her smile brightening when she finally takes in his appearance. He hasn't seen her smile like that since Caitiff had - well, he hasn't seen her smile like that in far too long. "I like your apron."

He grins right back. "I knew you would." He'd made it for her, after all. Years back, far, far too long ago, he'd had a pair of aprons made for the two of them in preparation for the next Hero's Heart Day, hers The Hero and his, well, The Hero's Hero. They never got to wear them together, on account of the - of - of what happened with Wargoth but now, given that they had some time on their hands, maybe he could persuade her. It would certainly be in the spirit of the season. Then, after some hesitation, he says it. "Happy Hero's Heart Day, hon."

She blinks up at him. "Forgot that was coming up," she mused. "Happy - Happy Hero's Heart Day to you, too, Hero's Hero."

"Technically, that's not for a few days."

"You said it first."

"Happy its-almost-Hero's-Heart Day, then."

"Right back at you," she says, grinning. "So, has Big Daddy sent for me yet?"

"He has," he says amiably. "He was actually here just a while back. He's left, though. He's going to hire some other adventurer, from the looks of it."

"That cheater." Despite her words, there was a clear relief in her posture as she undid the latches on the door. He hadn't really noticed it, having been more preoccupied by their conversation, but they'd made their way up to the door as they talked. "So he got the notes?"

"I made sure of it myself," he says. "He got both of them. I think it's safe to say we're free to spend Heart's day together, for once."

They exchange smiles, hers almost disbelieving even as she smothered a laugh at his own, likely stupidly happy face. She reaches out to take his hand with her left just as she opened the door with her right. Her hands were more calloused, more worn, and more battered than they'd ever been and yet, somehow, the feel of it in his own is as familiar and comforting as it's ever been.

"You know, this'll be the first time we've ever gotten to have Hero's Heart Day to ourselves," she remarks. Their other hands interlocked, she pushes the door open much more forcefully than she really should've. "Our lives suck."

He has to smile. "They usually do," he acquiesces. If he were to be honest, lunch wasn't going to be much either. He hadn't counted on her waking up and so, had really only banked on eating the leftovers from breakfast. But that was fine, too. The apron wasn't just for show; he was a fair cook in his own right, and besides, they could cook always themselves some lunch. Together. "Shall we begin our momentous, first almost-Hero's-Heart's Day feast, my Lady Hero?" he asks, putting on his most affected, stuffy-noble voice.

She gives his hand a squeeze, eyes sparkling. "Whatever you say, oh-gallant-Hero of Heroes."

End

AN: A bonus thingbob. I wanted to write something fluffy for Valentine's/HHD and this ended up being it. I don't really write romantic stuff all that often so I'm not too sure about this but I did like this enough, OC and all. Haelan's a character I wrote for m'Hero's backstory a buncha years back. I think he's alright. I hope someone else does, too.

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