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Dewey Lake, on the Pacific Crest Trail
The absent sunset
My day 4 contribution to the @10daysto1k Fandom: Young Royals | Prompt: Sunset | Rating: G | Words: 400 | AO3
“Don’t you think that it’s kinda whimsical?” Wille giggled, both that and the pink on his cheeks evidently had more to do with what he had been drinking than anything else.
Simon only shook his head lightly, while trying to steady Wille’s flailing body, moving over the rocks and gravel towards their tent. “Whimsical how you have avoided being recognised so far?”
The happy smile reached higher than those heavy lidded eyes. Catching the soft pastel light in his irises. “Noo…. Silly! But that’s been kinda great.” There was a content sigh. “I love being on the mountain. No one expects an ex-royal non-heir, nah! Not even the queen’s son is to be recognized here.”
Brazing his legs at the extra weight to his side, Simon had to join in on the laughing. "Yes, you are oh so very much incognito here Wille. But you need to use both your feet and not pretend to be a windmill if you wanna keep that up." Wille gulped down some air and started coughing, “Shit, sorry. Sorry babe. You do know you are my babe right? My darling, my sweetheart! The treasure of my longing heart and lonesome loins?” Simon’s colour did not only origin from the beverages, nor from the whole day they had spent traipsing the mountain to reach the base camp with its huts for amenities like the one Wille just had used. “That was not a whisper. Sweetheart. Lonesome my ass… Now tell me, what is it that is so whimsical that you’re still giggling?” “I do like your ass-” Simon’s glare changed the topic. “The sun Simon! It’s so stubborn and like —I wanna stay up all night and then it is just this regular orb up there. Yeah…” Wille sat down on the low plank bench around their fire. Giving off a breathy sound, pulling Simon close to him and leaned on to his side before continuing. “You know. I’ve never seen a whole day pass by without a sunset… It sounds kinda bleak. Don’t you think?” Simon’s mind wandered, wondering how profound Wille was being, was the silliness created by their excursion, the hour or the small flask they had with them. How much was his inherent darkness, the revelation of being here, being unknown for just this once. With fingers brushing through Wille’s hair, Simon opted out from answering, humming their song instead.
After a 13.2 km hike under the blazing sun, with a total ascent and descent of 590 meters, we completed a circular route that led us to the summit of Pen y Fan, standing tall at 886 meters. It's the highest peak in southern Britain, second only to Cadair Idris.
While the distance was manageable, the tough terrain, steep climbs, and the relentless sun made it a real challenge.
But at the end, with an ice-cold pint waiting and stunning views burned into memory (and camera), it was more than worth it.
Tatra Mountains.
Morskie Oko.
Animals.
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