#this may be the only thing I write for tdptober but it was fun to do at least one thing

[venice-1987]

TDPtober 2-love

Summary: Corvus reflects on what he loves

Pairings: Soren x Corvus (Of course its Sorvus, its me writing this :P)

There was much traced into the lines of his memory. The way the chill of autumn was drawn into the lungs, refreshing the body from the heat of summer. The way the leaves became dry and brittle underfoot, nourishing the earth for the coming spring. A home in the alleys of trees, off beaten paths and into the thickets, where the greenery sheltered him like a warm blanket. 

He had dedicated himself to remember his parents, the home cooked meals from his father, carefully spooning the dish onto his empty plate. A mother, and her barely contained love in a crushing embrace, laughing as he tried to breathe and flailed, pretending to attempt an escape. He remembered their pride when he was recruited to be among Amaya’s scouts, and the same shine in their eyes when Soren had accepted him as a crownguard. 

And Soren. It felt like if anything had made itself at home in his thoughts, it was him. Some things good. The way he leapt into hugging Corvus in the mushroom forest. Some things bad. The tired lines under his eyes after the return to a burned home. Some things terrible. The wailing sobs, inhuman screams tearing at his throat at the loss of a sister, not literally, but through change. She had become unrecognizable, and he grieved in privacy until Corvus had found him. 

But nothing came close to everything Soren had done in love. It felt as if he tried to forget, that a core part of his mind would be lost, and he wouldn’t be the same, lobotomized and left changed. The laugher Soren always seemed to bring, the smile tugging at his lips when he looked eagerly to see if he had succeeded in bringing a little bit more joy into Corvus’s day. They way he had taken Corvus’s hand, correcting the positioning on the sword, helping him improve a little more. The way he took note of when Corvus was overwhelmed, and the gentle way he guided Corvus to safety. The way he was kind. The way he pushed Corvus to become better just by virtue of being good himself. 

There was one day Corvus would never forget, that encapsulated everything he knew Soren to be. It was a bad day for the both of them. Corvus had taken the destruction of Katolis poorly, the home he had come to love had gone, which made him think of the homes and the people he had left behind. He realized that he had sunken into his solitude too readily, not writing like he should have. The resounding guilt multiplied the tension in his body with the sensory overload that the refugee camp had become that day. But there was ceaseless work to be done, and he ran himself ragged that despite it. 

When he saw Soren around camp, he knew his captain was doing no good either. He wondered if this time, it was because of Viren’s haunting memory, or the lingering reminder of a once familiar Claudia in every broken stone, in every hidden pathway that was not collapsed and used in recovery missions. He had once led Corvus and Opeli and Barius and later the young king Ezran out of those passages. He wondered if, then, Soren had recognized that his family would never be the same as it once did. 

Corvus had returned to their shared tent expecting Soren to be curled on his sleeping mat, wanting to be left in peace. He did not expect Soren to be there with a plate of peanut caramel pies, one of his favorite treats, and some strange looking curved stick with two wads of cotton on either end. He sat crossed legged, his shoulders hunched over in clear fatigue and his smile tired. But it reached his eyes. When he spoke, it carried the weight of the day in its softness. 

“You looked stressed today,” he said. “I asked Barius to make these, and I made this. I call it a noise-stopper. You put it over your ears.” Soren held up his invention, waiting for permission. When Corvus nodded, he leaned forward, setting the cotton pads gently over Corvus’s ears. It did not stop the noise completely, but it provided a hefty shield against what made noise overwhelming in the first place. The texture felt nice on his skin, too, much like the sheep’s soft wool that made the clothes he wore. 

Corvus did not know what to say, so he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Soren’s in a grateful kiss. At that point, their tentative relationship had not gone anywhere past hand holding, and looks that said ‘I’m starting to see you as something different. I’m sorry it took this tragedy to finally notice.’ He did not think the kiss would be rejected, and he was glad to see it returned with the same energy he put into it. Neither was surprised in the development, but it was nice to have confirmation. Their sleeping mats had been gradually drifting closer to each other every night for the past two weeks, and they finally closed the distance completely that day. Corvus’s head tucked into the crook of Soren’s neck as they fell asleep, both knowing they loved, and were loved.