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“What are you doing?”
Surprised, Lachesis dropped the flower she was holding and it ungracefully fell down to meet all the other petals and flower stalks gathered around her lap.
“Oh, it’s just… an old habit, nothing more.” An old habit she couldn’t help but revert to when she was anxious, despite having left long behind the days when she truly believed flowers to possess the ability to foretell the future.
Ayra raised one of her brows but opted not to say anything and instead sat down next to her.
Lachesis couldn’t help but think that the way her ebony hair reflected the moonlight made it look as if it was the starry sky brought down to earth and that her dark eyes reminded her of the elegant black roses she often admired in the garden when she was young.
For a while, the two of them just sat together like this — there was so much to talk about, so much to say, and yet neither dared to speak in fear of accidentally touching on something better left unsaid. In the end, though, it was Ayra who broke the silence.
“It’s really strange, how big the army we’re part of has become. Before I used to be able to see you no matter what; now I had trouble finding you despite searching for you all day. I… really needed to see you. Before tomorrow. Before I might…”
She doesn’t dare to finish that sentence, knowing full well that it would shatter all semblance of normalcy both of them had tried so hard to keep up the past days.
Lachesis tries to laugh away how something in her chest tightens upon hearing those words, but it comes out shakier than intended. At the very least she can deny the way her hand tightly grips one of the flower stalks.
“What are you talking about? We’ll stay together, whatever might happen from now on. We overcame so much that surely fate will lead us to the happy future we fought so hard for! Besides, King Azmur is such a benevolent ruler; there’s no need to worry! Certainly he will hear us out and understand the truth behind what happened.”
As Lachesis said these words, even she couldn’t help but feel like she was trying to convince herself, too. Perhaps Ayra felt the same foreboding she did when she noticed monkshood and foxglove blooming everywhere in the area they had set up their camp for the night?
Thankfully, her train of thought is interrupted by Ayra chuckling lightly after she had been looking somber for what felt like an endless time.
“Well, if our resident fortune-teller is so assured, then I’m certain that the rising sun will bring nothing but good news to us all.”
Lachesis pouts at that, but with how the grin seems to light up Ayra’s whole face, she finds that for once she didn’t mind the teasing. The somber look returns after a second, though.
“As a warrior and princess of Isaac, I have to be prepared to lay down my life for my cause at any given moment. Still, I… can’t help but want to be selfish just this once because I, too, hope for nothing more than to be able to spend the rest of my days by your side.”
Deep in thought, she was fiddling with something at her side. Lachesis couldn’t actually make out the object, but... could this be….?
“...I, too, wish to explore the countries of Jugdral with you, one day. Collect and press flowers from all the places we visit, so that when we grow old and gray, we can recount the tales of our youth to our grandchildren as we sit in front of the fireplace and drink honey milk.”
Ayra stops and blushes, perhaps only now remembering to be embarrassed at what she was saying. She’s never been good at being romantic when actually thinking about it, and she curses her sudden nervousness for making her clumsily drop the ornamented dagger into Lachesis’ lap.
Remembering the talk they had many nights ago, it feels much heavier than it should. Heat rises into Lachesis’ cheeks as well not only due to the gesture but because the way she nodded so quickly, making her dizzy, reminded her of an all too eager little child.
However, the tender look in Ayra’s eyes as she carefully put a dahlia behind her ear made Lachesis forget about everything but the feeling of being about to burst with happiness and that the way their hands fit together so perfectly surely gives her enough strength to take on the whole world if she has to.
And just next to their linked hands, a patch of cyclamen sprouts innocently.