Fishblight Mire Flicker

The sun was beginning to set, casting the valley in a brilliant fiery glow. Elphie stopped to observe it for a moment before she returned to her husband. She came to him muddied and tired, but bright-eyed; carrying a fish for each of them.

I think we've come far enough, don't you? She began conversationally as she laid them down and settled in to groom herself. Her eyes found @Equinox after a moment, soft and bright with hope. We could start looking for a place to settle down. Build a life together.

They'd never really spoken about what that would look like; it was never the right time, never the right state of mind. First they'd survived together, then they'd fled together, and now — well, now it was the time. Here, covered in mud, tired from a long day of traveling and fishing. There was nowhere she would rather be.

It was a relief when she came back to him. It always was.

In truth, he didn't expect them to be chased this far — just far enough not to cause any complications further down the line. The tight line of his mouth melted into something more genuine as Elphie continued, and the longer his gaze rested upon her, the more he unfurled.

Nox was already prone to losing himself in thought, and maybe to his detriment he had plenty of time to think these days. But often, he found that he was thinking of them, dreaming up what their lives together might look like when they weren't being pressed under his father's thumb.

They were so lucky to have found each other so young. To have all the time they had to shape their futures was a luxury he knew not everyone was afforded.

That sounds nice, he says, moving in next to her and gently pushing her face aside with his nose in a bid to allow him to groom her instead. She had put so much work into their meal, it was the least he could do. What do you see when you picture it? Where would you like to — settle down?

Tell me, so I can dream of it. Tell me so it can give me hope.

She closed her eyes and surrendered to his gentle insistence, her pulse taking up a familiar stutter she could feel in her ears, in her throat. She hoped it would always feel this way when he touched her. Elphie smiled faintly as he spoke, delighted by the way the sound of his voice called to mind the silvered image of his eyes.

Hmmm, She lingered on the thought. Somewhere quiet; not too many people. Her eyes opened and she studied Nox thoughtfully, imagining a place that might feel like he belonged to it. He was her home, after all; his peace was her peace. I think the people matter the most. They should be... kind. Peaceful. I want a soft life.

Elphie reached out to press her nose briefly to his crown. You deserve a soft life, too.

He tended to her as she spoke. He had never told her, but these moments were the ones he loved the most. He wanted to open her mind and gaze upon her inner workings; to know her the way he knew himself. He savored any opportunity to ask her questions, and adored the way that she found her thoughts by talking through them.

Mmm, he rumbled in consideration. Given where they came from, he understood why she wanted what she did. That sounds nice, he said again, before realizing he was just repeating himself. It will be different, he added on, but I think it will be good for us.

She had been by his side for nearly all of his life. Though some aspects of his earthly residence had been less than kind, how could he have not had a soft life with her influence to guide him? But he understood what she meant and relented to it. Then we will have one, he confirmed. There was power in being able to speak to one's desires.

Maybe for the first time, he was convinced that it would all work out.

Different. That was what she wanted, but Elphie was afraid of it, too. And though she could never bring herself to speak her fears aloud, Nox seemed to know; he always did. She wondered sometimes what he saw when he looked at her. He always seemed to see things so clearly, as crystalline as the color of his eyes. As if the skin and bones of the world fell away beneath his gaze, and left only the truth of it.

I never thought of myself as domestic, Elphie confessed with a soft laugh. But I can see it with you. We'll pick out a den, and we'll decorate it. Some place where we can see the stars. Her expression turned distant, caught in a daydream now.

When we're settled, we can start taking trips. See the whole valley. Maybe - All at once she came back to the present, focused and rapidly becoming shy with her next words. Oh, I don't think I've ever even asked - Nox, do you want kids? She blushed, but held his gaze.

Compared to what we know it isn't so domestic, he says.

He knows she's picturing it. His expression softens as he watches her lose herself in her daydream, wishing nothing more than to insert himself into whatever was going on behind her eyes.

Nox didn't consider himself worldly; he'd never had the taste for travel, and he didn't see that changing any time soon. But maybe it was just the idea of travel he didn't like. It seemed so lonely. If he really thought about it, though, was what she suggested any different than what they were doing now? As long as they took their time and came home when they needed to...

But he didn't have the chance to affirm her desires before she lovingly, delicately placed a bomb in his hands. He hadn't thought of it, really. When he imagined their life together, of course he imagined their children and grandchildren. But was that what she wanted? Did he see things this way because that's how he had been raised to? I — I think so, Elphie, he said as his ears fell to the sides.

Do you? He doesn't give her the opportunity to reply. Because it's okay, y-you know, if you don't. He doesn't want her to think he expects this of her; he wants her to know that if the rest of their lives were spent alone together, that it would be enough for him.

I don't know, She admitted, but there was a breathless sort of hope in her tone. It's a nice thought, isn't it? Starting a family together - but what do I know about raising children? Elphie laughed, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Neither of them knew much about children, and that was really the deciding factor, wasn't it?

I know it's a lot of responsibility. I know there are things I want to do first, Elphaba went on, grateful that she could share this with him, that she didn't need to fear his judgment. There weren't many things she was sure of, but his love for her, his contentment at her side — that, she never doubted. Still working on defining 'things' - but I figure that'll be the fun part.

He had heard enough of his mother's concave "I don't knows," that if Elphie were anyone else, he may have considered this some kind of soft denial. But her voice was a martini glass limned in sugar and hope, and Nox could not help but get drunk off of those dreams. Effortlessly, a smile swept the worry from his tight-pulled features.

That's okay, he replied, kissing her forehead. You don't have to know.

She was right, of course, about the responsibility of it all. There were things they needed to set in order before they could even consider it. They had to find a home, and make sure it could support them. And truthfully, although he secretly resented it — was afraid of it, how they might change — they needed to understand who they were outside of the container that had been so carefully built for them.

Once again, he is reminded of how lucky they are to have their youth and all the time ahead of them to figure things out. We can take our time. We can wait until it feels like it's the right decision for our family. He looks into her eyes with firm reassurance.

I think wherever we end up, there should be plenty of opportunities to learn. It was the season that children came. And if their cohabitants were as peaceful as the pair desired, they might get an opportunity to see how good parents treated their children, and to understand what kind of environment that kind of parenting was capable of shaping — something they had no model for yet.

Well, whatever you want to do... he wondered then what kind of images flashed in her mind, I'll be there to support you. Whatever that looks like, for us.

She couldn't help but smile at him, caught in helpless adoration for his gentle stability. Equinox was more than an anchor to her, more like the safety of an old timeworn blanket, that familiar warmth and the good smells of home. She shifted closer, tucking herself into his arms now and nuzzling into his neck fur.

I know you will, Elphie murmured, her heart racing to be so close to him, as it always did. That's why I made you my husband. Half-joking, but there was some truth to it, too. Elphaba never could stand to be left, not after that first and most cutting abandonment by the one who had given her life. But Equinox knew that. He knew, and he would never do that to her. He knew that if he ever did, she might do something stupid, maybe. Someone might get hurt. But that would never happen. 

So she held him close to her.

He knows how she can be. He had been a container for the best and worst parts of her, and even in those moments she had not turned the dagger against him. Yet still, he remained ignorant — perhaps willfully so — of what life might look like without her. He's never even considered what her reaction might be because he's never considered the possibility to begin with, and he can't imagine a world in which he might need to.

There was nothing that had ever been big enough that they couldn't bear together.

He was so prone to losing himself that she was his tether to the present moment, so while he dryly said, The only reason, I'm sure, there was still warmth in his embrace.

I guess you're nice to look at, too, Elphie supplied laughingly, but it was dark now and the stars had emerged, and that always meant that it was time to be quiet. So she went quiet. She watched the stars, and she watched Equinox watch the stars. She thought about the future. She thought about how much she loved him.

And everything was perfect.