"more...at peace, maybe."
asher is quiet, stunned silent by memories he hasn't dwelled on in quite some time. who can blame him for forgetting the things that he had hoped for when finn first asked him to follow to etlia for the first time since both had left? he's been pretty preoccupied with staying alive for the last several months, after all. but it hits him, suddenly, that that had been his goal originally. when they visited the wall, when they constructed a crude monument to the dead there. wasn't this exactly what asher had hoped for? he knew, somehow, that it was impossible for finn to truly forget about all the ghosts that haunted him. all he had dared to hope for was his companion to find peace, to accept what happened and move forward regardless of it.
somehow, that wish came true.
there's a mistiness in asher's eyes that comes from guilt; he's forgotten about finn in a lot of ways, wrapped up in himself. even now, with his hand resting gently in the other man's, he never thought about what finn was thinking, what finn was feeling. asher got caught up in his own emotions, and again his own hopes and dreams, only much more selfish ones this time. he doesn't dare say a word of it, though he gently takes his hand back under the excuse of rubbing half-formed tears out of his eyes before he really looks like he's going to cry.
he smiles at finn, somehow still selfish enough to think that he's glad that his life was something to dance about. "i'll be a better dancer next year," he promises, though he's pretty sure the said the same thing last year too. "and we'll have something even better to dance about." he doesn't know what that will be, he just hopes for the best for both of them.
"fresh fish??" all other thoughts are banished from his head as he frantically tries to wrap his head around the idea of fresh seafood in a land-locked area. "finn, i just got better. are you trying to poison me again?" asher can't help but laugh despite himself. he and finn are both children of the sea, he knows. the waves sang them lullabies at night and were their playmates during the day. asher knows the taste of fish so fresh it had been breathing up until the moment it went into the fire. what could this festival have to offer that could possibly compare? "never mind, i don't want to split something with you now. your taste is terrible."
finn holds asher's hand loosely enough that he can easily take it back for himself, and finn has no qualms with that. his hands settle comfortably into his own lap, and he looks back at the dance floor. he doesn't even look at asher to see why he's pulled his hand away; he doesn't have the slightest idea of the emotion in asher's eyes or heart. he truthfully doesn't think his peace of mind matters that much. it's just an afterthought; something he hasn't even considered much himself until this moment.
he wonders what changed, though; what settled his restless soul. maybe it really was just returning. closure, they might call it, and yet it feels like so much has opened up, too: a war, and opportunities among it for his country to rise from the ashes gleerium reduced it to. at the same time, maybe closure is right; quieting the ghosts of his past, hoping they rest easy alongside the countless men that died for etlia. it's over now. some peace came with that realization, certainly; the dead no longer suffer. he no longer has the weight of a nation on his shoulders. there is, strangely, some freedom in that.
and yet it isn't over, is it? maybe the grief is. perhaps he can close the door on the chapter of his life where it permeated everything, but etlia is not dead. there is still more to fight for here. part of him is so tired. he just wants to rest. he wants to let this newfound peace truly settle, replacing all the despair that sank into his bones in the past two years. he can't, though. he knows, there is still more to fight for. what is there for an etlian to do but fight for their life? maybe he wouldn't know what to do with anything else.
this night will end, and he'll ask asher tomorrow if he wants to stay in noyillai or return home to face all of the hope and danger found in ganggyn's new war. he knows, inevitably, etlia will call them back. thinking about it makes him feel restless. if they stay here too long, will they miss an opening to place the etlian people in better standing with ganggyn? if he is gone too long, will the etlian resistance slowly building before he left dissipate?
he doesn't need to think about it now. asher's assurance that he'll be a better dancer next year brings finn back to the present. one more carefree day. and we'll have something even better to dance about, asher says, and finn's lips quirk up into another soft smile. "i hope so," he replies, and unlike the finn of the past, he believes it could be possible. even amidst war, he has hope that they could find some true happiness in the next year.
or they might not survive until next year. there's no way to know for certain. somehow, the prospect of his own death doesn't scare him. he knows asher would be sad, though; likely even sadder than finn would've been if asher truly hadn't survived his curse. if anything, for that reason, he'll try not to throw his life away.
asher laughs, and finn's smile grows. "what? i said i'm curious, not that it would be good." the more he thinks about it, the more it would likely be a waste of gold, though. curiosity isn't a good enough excuse. "okay, fine. do you want to see what else there is? maybe something like..." finn's voice trails off as he considers what sounds most appetizing to him. "chicken?"



















