Fic prompts you say?????????
I know you are skeptical, but this is my chance to convince you!
I’m doing this because I love you, and I can’t deny that these two would be disgustingly adorable and supportive of each other.
Pairing: Gwyneth Berdara/Ithan Holstrom
Prompt: “H-how long have you been standing there?” - “Long enough.” (I adjusted it a tiny tiny bit based on what I’d written.)
She ran a thumb over the cerulean stone, her reflection distorted over the smooth surface. While her evenings had become more restful over the years, the training ring was still her solace. It was a place where she’d grown strong, in body and mind and soul, empowered by the people who had become her family.
The Valkyries had outgrown the training ring at the House, though they still used it for any priestesses who still dared not venture out into the world. Which was why Gwyn could sit with her legs dangling over the railing, enjoying the peace and quiet of the winter afternoon.
Perhaps she wasn’t enjoying it, exactly. Perhaps she was more… hiding.
The invoking stone was a lead weight in her palm, and she dropped her hands into her lap under its burden. Gwyn had never worn it as a priestess, though she couldn’t bear the thought of letting it go. Cat would have been an incredible priestess; devoted and compassionate and gentle. The redhead knew, now, that it had never been her destiny to remain hidden in the pale blue robes of the Mother. It had never been her call to remain huddled and hushed in the library.
Gwyn’s purpose was to be strong. To empower others who had been wounded to do the same. It had taken a long time, but she was finally proud of who she was, the warrior she had become.
But that didn’t make days like these any easier.
“Happy birthday, Cat,” she whispered into the winter chill, eyelashes fluttering to cool the burning in her eyes. Would it still hurt this much a decade from now? A century? Gods, she hoped not.
“I think you’d be proud of me,” she continued. Sometimes it was nice to talk to her like she was right there. “I try to help people who don’t know how to fight back. I’d like to think that—“ she sniffled, losing the battle against her pooling tears “—that I’m making sure that what happened to us doesn’t happen to anyone else. I just wish… I just wish it wasn’t too late to save you.”
The breeze was frigid against the dampness on her cheeks, and seeped through her leggings as if they were made of nothing more than lace. But she barely noticed, falling into the chasm that still remained in the wake of her twin’s death. Her head dropped, suddenly to heavy, and her drooping shoulders shook with the force of her grief.
“I’m so sorry, Cat,” she whimpered between ragged breaths. “I love you. I miss you so much. Nothing is the same without you.”
Suddenly she was wrapped in an embrace, two warm, strong arms banding around her and pulling her into the warmth of a broad chest. Then there was a kiss to her cheek, capturing one of her many falling tears.
“You do help people. Every day. It’s incredible to witness.” The gentleness of the voice made her slump in the comforting arms of the man who had become so dear to her. Ithan Holstrom was always so forthcoming with his feelings, unafraid to be vulnerable and honest if it meant earning Gwyn’s trust. She couldn’t thank the Mother enough for connecting their worlds, though the resulting conflict had been horrifying and bloody.
“H-how long have you been listening?”
Ithan sighed at her back, his exhale pulling her further into him. She didn’t want him to let go, and it seemed like the feeling was blessedly mutual.
“Long enough,” he whispered, his breath tickling the shell of her ear. “Your sister would be immensely proud of you. Just like I am. In fact, from what you’ve told me, the only thing that would upset her is the fact that you still hurt so much, and you exile yourself to a secluded roof to try to handle it alone.”
Gwyn squeezed her eyes shut, a desperate attempt to halt the fresh wave of tears from his heartfelt words.
Ithan released her from his grasp, but only long enough to step to her side and tilt her chin up toward him. His kiss was so warm and tender, protecting her from the winter chill.
“You’ll catch your death out here, Freckles,” he murmured. “Come inside. We’ll cuddle in front of the fire and I’ll tell you more about Connor.”
Connor. The brother he’d lost. His own nightmarish night, a world away.
Just another reason Ithan understood her better than anyone else.
