#nazaeir

the lazy crackle of the fire proves soothing, enough so that her eyelids grow heavy, and celine curls up further atop the chaisse before it. focused deeply, she blinks as a cup of tea is unexpectedly handed towards her, steam billowing around it. 

“here,” the low rumble of dettlaff’s familiar voice follows, “i thought you might like some.” 

their time spent together in toussaint had not been without joy, but the past weeks of a life spent truly together has allowed them each to learn each other’s habits, how best to care for each other in a way that their sporadic evenings together never had. (a careful sip further assures that he’s not only learned her favorite brew before bed, but also watched her for the best way to steep it.) 

“whatever have i done to deserve you,” celine hums softly, shifting to allow him space before a hand tugs at his sleeve, “come sit with me a while, my love. i just need a few minutes more to finish my thoughts.” 

tea is balanced carefully in one hand as her gaze returns to the pages spread before her, the vampire’s form comfortably beside her. 

“celine-,” he pauses, “i must ask you something.” 

“ask and i shall answer,” the sorceress lowers her head to blow against the drying ink before scribbling another note. 

“are you happy?”

huffing an amused breath, celine’s brow furrows as she flips a page. “of course i am, dettlaff. why, is my happiness in doubt?”

calloused fingers gently but firmly move beneath her chin, sweeping over the arch of her jaw. dettlaff guides her eyes to meet his and, once their gazes meet, celine regrets the casual reply offered. there is worry in his pale eyes, accentuated by a slight furrow of his brow. 

carefully closing her book and setting her tea aside, celine reaches to take his hands in her own. “of course i’m happy,” she replies softly, more slowly than before, “why do you worry over such?”

he remains quiet for a long moment, words chosen carefully. “it...,” a quiet sigh, “everything you gave up to be here, to be with me...it does not go unnoticed, celine. i had thought little of it that night, when i came to you.” 

a faint but sincere guilt clouds his words, hovers in his voice. “oh, my love,” a hand lifts to brush along his cheekbone, “do you worry over that?”

when dettlaff says nothing, her hand guides his head to rest in her lap. he follows her motions without pause, pale gaze flicking upwards to meet her eyes once more as her fingers trail through his ebony hair. 

“the choice i made, dettlaff, was freely and eagerly given. i have, not for one moment, regretted it.” a little smile settles on her lips, a thumb tracing over the grey hairs lining his brow. “there is nothing i left behind that i have not gained thrice over and more.”

she senses relief in the way his posture eases, in how the tension in his broad shoulders melts away. “i abandoned luxury i found shallow, dettlaff, and power i found exhausting. what renown i held was in the eyes of those whose opinions i cared nothing for. i was surrounded by much and many, yes, but it meant nothing to me.” 

her gaze lifts to trace over the home they’ve begun to build over the weeks, once empty space slowly filled with more than the few items they’d brought with them in the dead of night from beauclair. a bench for him to craft his toys and carvings, a bookshelf filled with tomes and parchment for her work, a vase of flowers she keeps perpetually blossoming beside their bed; all of it humble, certainly, but impossibly adored and tenderly maintained. 

“all those nights we spent apart in beauclair? i used to dream of just sitting with you in the palace gardens,” a fingertip strokes lightly along his cheekbone, words warm at the memory, “and no one would interrupt us. we could be together and not have to hide, as long as wished. now? we have a garden, dettlaff, and i might sit with you just as i dreamed.” 

    stepping inside hurriedly, she’s relieved to find a familiar form waiting for her in the foyer. tired features immediately break into a smile and celine eagerly wraps her arms around broad, muscled shoulders. “i’m so sorry, my love,” her lips press against the hard arch of dettlaff’s jaw, a hum of contentment following, “court kept me and i couldn’t escape until now.” 

    it’s only when the vampire’s arms encircle her with an unusual tightness that celine senses a frenetic energy to him. it also occurs to her that he hadn’t been waiting for her in the study or kitchen as has steadily become the norm, but rather all but in the doorway. still, she leans into his embrace, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

     “i hoped that you would come,” dettlaff finally speaks and the low rumble of his voice has an edge of relief to it.

     celine huffs a breath amusedly, leaning back to arch a brow. “what? did you think i wouldn’t come?”

     immediately, she regrets her words. inadvertent though they were, they veer close to mocking given his history. it would not be the first time someone beloved simply did not return, decided to disappear without explanation or warning. it’s enough to for a sharp pang of regret to pierce her and celine lifts a hand to rest against dettlaff’s cheek. “i’m sorry, my words were clumsy,” she sighs quietly, teeth raking over her lower lip, “i did not mean it to sound as such.” 

    while dettlaff van der eretein might hardly be called delicate, there nonetheless remain glimmers of scars not yet fully healed. with time, he has allowed her to learn of them and, in a gesture that makes her heart swell within her chest, has trusted her enough to begin to mend them. for that, while the love between them may be young, there is an easiness to it that makes it feel familiar and certain, a northern star towards which she can orient herself. (and she loves him enough that it aches, each smile and laugh she earns from him all but dizzying.)

    for that, she is quiet for a long moment, reaching her fingertips up to rest against the incline of his cheekbones in order to affix his vision to her own. “when you call, dettlaff, i shall always come.” celine leans to rest her forehead to his own and her lips skim lightly against his. “i will not leave. i promise you this.”