Reunion

By: Heather the Writer

Challenge: wAstxd1sYmPhOny's "Protector" challenge

Rating: T

Summary: A reunion between two lovers. Based on wAstxd1sYmPhOny's challenge. K/D - fluffy!

He was several years older than she was, and as she rode along the well-used path, he slowly came into focus for the first time in years. He always looked younger than he really was; she remembered thinking that even when she first met him. His good looks came from his boyish charm; often he had been so much like a child in a man’s body she hadn’t known whether to laugh or groan. He had the callused hands and heavily muscled body of someone who worked hard in combat, and bore the scars to prove it. Now that she saw him again, she noticed the first faint lines of wisdom were beginning to appear around the mischievous blue eyes that seemed to see through her every move.

But what she really appreciated him for, what she loved him for, was his character. He had believed in her from the moment they had met; voiced his approval without hesitation. He was always strong and confident, not hesitating to either lead or let someone else take charge. The relationship they shared had been much the same. Sometimes it would be filled with passionate kisses, but other times it was as simple as a game of chess, working together in New Hope, or a book read aloud.

She remembered the times he would read aloud with a smile. He had one book that he prized above all others, a book of love poetry. “I used them to get ladies,” he would explain with a shrug. But later, much later, when they were alone together at last, he would hold her close and explain to her that he never understood their true meaning until he met her.

There was no uneasiness between them as they finally met. He was a flirt, a ladies’ man, but that never stopped him from loving her. It probably never would either. He was as stubborn as his cousin, but not as flamboyant with his affections.

She had never completely admitted to herself the depth of their love. “I’m a protector,” she would tell him during their arguments. But somewhere, deep inside, she knew that they had created something unforgettable. It was not the love that minstrels sung about; it was not the love that people prayed for. But it shone with an inner brilliance that made them feel pity for those who would never experience what they did.

They exchange normal greetings, as is proper in front of so many people. Later, they sat next to each other by the campfire, enjoying the crisp evening air. Thankfully, not many people were around, and she could sit against him without making others feel too uncomfortable. Everyone knew what they are thinking.

A log snapped, sending sparks into the air, and both of them noticed the dying embers, almost burned through. Neither of them made a move to grab a new log. He used the dampening fire as an excuse to bring her closer, and she smiled, thinking of their first time together. Although he refused to admit it, he was a hopeless romantic.

Everything felt right. The fire, the weather, their lone tent- it was as if the years that had kept them apart were being blown away. It was a chance for new beginnings; a chance for certain memories to be forgotten and others to be remembered.

The fire emitted its last dying breath, and they slowly retreat to their haven. There they give in to everything that has held them back for two years. The fights, the war- everything is forgotten, everything is forgiven. Neither of them did things they were proud of in battles, but it was necessary at the time. It was necessary to survive, necessary to protect.

Kel lifted her head up and looked at him with dreamer’s eyes, and Dom kissed her softly on the lips. They spent the evening together, making up for the years apart. Occasionally he would wake up and look at her, marveling at how he had managed to catch something so precious.
She slept the night without waking up once. When she did it was no longer to her faithful servant and cold bed. She grinned into his shoulder, and –trying her best not to wake him up- slowly got out of bed and grabbed her glaive.

Some traditions never change.

She liked the way her glaive loosened up her muscles, worked her body, and cleared her mind. There was something special about waking up with sunrise. Although he didn’t share her views –he liked to wait until the sun was above his head before he thought about moving- he understood and appreciated what she was doing. He left her alone without her even having to ask.

She joined him in bed again later, curling up into the spot that was still waiting for her. He pulled her in tighter, and they lapse into a peaceful silence. Neither wants to move, neither wants to face the world.

It felt so right to be there.