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vacantgodling · 11 months ago

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they’re in love your honor 😭😭😭😭

oc kiss week day 3: sunrise

WIP: the chronicles of lathsbury (tcol)

SHIP: clear brightendale (he/him, medic) x forte symphonia (he/him, ranger aka an archer)

SUMMARY: on a quiet morning, forte finally replies to the feelings clear shared with him 4 months ago.

worldbuilding notes: technically this is a spoiler scene, as it happens after the main plot events of tcol's book 1. aside from the kissing, no spoilers are really prevalent though.

It happened on a quiet sort of morning.

It rained the night before, there was fresh dew on the ground in patches of wet earth and grass, and the land smelled of a certain kind of freshness that could only be found in nature. Forte breathed the smell in deep, sitting silently on the small patch of dry roofing that his childhood home had to offer.

It was good to be back, better even than he imagined. Forte was never suited for city life. People were constantly bustling, hustling; there was always an unyielding sense of urgency that was lost on him— an urgency that he couldn’t understand. With so little time with the grass beneath their feet and the wind in their hair; it was as though people were eager to do as much as possible to leave some kind of legacy behind. Piper was like that: brash, fierce, bold, unwavering. Last he heard from her she was almost at the top of her class at the knight academy. The mark she wanted to leave on this world was bright, and it radiated the same intensity. But quite her opposite, Forte preferred these quiet moments, and he was craving them by the time he finally was able to cash in some vacation time with Cameron to come see how everyone was doing back home.

Bass Landing was a quiet sort of place. People knew each other well, and there was never any need for formalities. The community had been supporting itself on the backbone of the arts for centuries, and the familial ties that everyone felt there were too rich, and rooted in history to be broken. Forte grew up amongst his neighbor’s gardens; tall leafy plants teaching him his first lessons in utilizing visage. The river that ran behind the furthest outskirts of the settlement was a tumultuous teacher of the treachery life could bring: almost every year, the River Cadenza brought forth her waves and flooded the landscape. Every year as Forte watched, he began to learn how to predict her near unpredictable nature. It was when he told his findings to his mother that he received his first bow; for he had proven the intuition of a Ranger. It was a test he was never informed he would be taking, but one he was glad he did all the same. It felt too easy to reminisce when he was on the roof like this.

“Up so early already?”

Clear’s voice wasn’t an unwelcome one. He’d shown the medic the way up here when they arrived together two evenings ago, and each morning he would sleepily crawl up the rickety ladder to join him in watching the sunrise. It hadn’t been a whim that Forte asked him home either. After they finally talked 4 months ago, and Clear divulged the true meaning behind his avoidance, they’d been becoming closer than ever.

It was also not unwelcome.

As per usual, Clear drowsily rubbed his eyes and yawned, hoisting himself up the rest of the way of the ladder with relative ease. It was easy to forget the strength hidden underneath his covered arms— a strength that was misleading. Almost embarrassed to admit to it, his mind recalled the moment he realized just how strong the medic was when Clear hoisted him clean over his shoulder like a deadweight that meant nothing to him. He’d called Clear in for a demonstration in one of his classes for the best methods to carry injured teammates away from the Labyrinth or battle, and the class was positively delighted to see it happen. It was also the first time they’d touched each other casually since that night Clear told him and Forte pretended not to notice Clear’s hand flexing in the aftermath, as he was too busy trying to calm his heart’s own shivers.

“It feels like you keep waking up earlier and earlier to test my devotion.”

Forte quirked a small smirk. “Maybe I am.”

The medic laughed, quietly but brightly, and the sound was personified sunlight. The first few rays of the sun were beginning to peak out over the horizon, and Forte looked over to Clear as he got settled in, scooting over slightly so they could somewhat share the small patch of dry roof. They were close enough their shoulders touched.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily, Fort.” Clear sighed, a happy sound, then he dropped his head unceremoniously onto his shoulder, leaning into him instinctively. And just as instinctually, Forte found his arm sliding out and snaking around Clear’s trim waist to support him.

They said nothing for a long while; the silence was comfortable, both more than willing to bask in the sunrise and the other’s presence than fill the silence with unnecessary chatter. It was one of the many things Forte came to appreciate about Clear. Though when he got worked up his mouth ran a mile a minute, he was truly a man who appreciated silence. Often, he’d seen him in various places around the Guild, meditating, humming softly to himself as he did. It was a few weeks ago that Forte had been invited to join him, and what he thought was humming before seemed to be some sort of invocation or a prayer:

♪ Blessed be those who follow Her Blessed be those whom She guides My soul worn and weary from life Has followed Her to great divide ♪

“And when my time has come, O She,” He heard Clear whispering to himself, as if on cue with his memory. “Comforter of those benign Will take me home to Cerullis And my heart Hers to hide.”

“Where did you learn that song?” Clear hummed again, this time noncommittal. He didn’t answer right away and Forte didn’t push him— with Clear, facing his demons and uncovering his past was something that took time, energy, and patience. Forte had time.

“We used to—” Clear cut himself off, thought, then started again. “It’s a song sung before hunts to remind those participating to be unafraid. Death is not here to hurt, but to guide away to the promised land.” Clear finally looked at Forte, his eyes surprisingly calm. “I still sing it because it reminds me to be unafraid.”

“Is there something you’re afraid of right now?” Forte asked, and Clear chuckled, softly. “No. Not at all. It just brings me comfort.” Clear nestled back into his chest without another word, and Forte let his hold tighten around the medic.

When the sun’s rays were fully visible, the sky turned a brilliant shade of blue, and Forte looked over at Clear again. He was nodding off again, and the sun’s light was perfectly positioned just right so that he could admire him. His lashes were long and dark, fluttering like butterfly wings over his half visible purple eyes. His hair dropped in front of his face like, casting delicate shadows over his cheeks and nose. His lips were plush, slightly parted, enough to see the beginnings of his teeth. Forte was overcome with the overwhelming desire to kiss him. It was becoming harder not to these days.

But in this quiet moment, in this sleepy town, with a gentle breeze blowing across the expanse of the trees, up his roof and through the hair of his companion, Forte felt his heart swell— in a way he hadn’t felt in ages.

“Clear.” The medic sleepily opened his eyes, rubbing them on the back of his knuckle. “Oh! Sorry, did I fall asleep on you?” He began to sit up but Forte’s grip on his waist tightened, giving the other man pause. He looked at him questioningly. Somewhere in those bright, searching violet eyes, Forte saw poorly disguised hope.

“I love you.”

The wind blew Forte’s dark hair back from his face, and he watched the myriad of emotions morph on his companion’s face. He stayed perfectly still, letting him process it. His heart was a painful drumbeat against his ribs.

“You��. Mean that?” Clear finally settled on. He looked nervous—hopeful, but nervous. Afraid it was too soon. Never that it was a joke. He knew Forte would never joke with him like this. Not after what he said before.

Forte’s smile was soft, his eyes crinkling at their corners and genuine and something like a tidal wave crashed into Clear’s body that made it very hard to breathe. He didn’t say anything else, afraid of breaking whatever spell the two of them were under, with Forte looking at him like some immeasurably precious thing, and Clear too stunned to believe it was him he was looking at. But Forte broke the moment; he leaned in, and pressed soft, if chapped, lips against Clear’s own.

Kissing Forte was overwhelming, in the best way. Clear slowly let himself reply, pressing back gently, letting his eyes slowly fall closed and his arms slid up his firm chest to pull Forte closer. He went. His other arm came around to rest on Clear’s waist, and he tilted his head, letting the kiss fall deeper.

Clear smelled of lavender and fresh linen, and Forte felt intoxicated by the way lithe hands slowly climbed into his hair, tugging gently, but purposefully. Forte licked gently at the lip pressed against his, and Clear easily opened his mouth, and their tongues slid languidly against one another— enough to hint at an underlying desire that they would perhaps explore later. Much later. For now, it was enough to prod, to acknowledge, to taste, to slowly savor.

Forte slowly pulled back but didn’t stray far, and watched reverently as Clear’s eyes fluttered open. Their foreheads touched together gently, and the sun climbed higher in the sky, illuminating them.

“I love you too.” Clear said softly back and Forte smiled again, rubbing a thumb against his cheek and letting the warmth of the new morning envelope them in its embrace.

It felt like a new beginning

#I LOVE THEM SO MUCH IM SO UGLY CRYING ABOUT THEM #i think they’re the most tender ship i have aside from anything with dag #like OUGHHHHHHH

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