The rain came slowly, at first.
Just a drizzle that whispered against the leaves as they set camp beneath a half-collapsed stone arch — remnants of an old watchtower lost to time and vine.
Elliot was silent again. Not like before — not distant.
Just… tired.
Tired of gods. Of fate. Of fire.
Kaelith sat beside him, legs tucked to her chest, hair damp and curling. She watched him for a long time, then finally said what she'd been holding in.
> "You know what scares me most?"
He didn't look at her.
"I've seen you bleed, Elliot. I've seen you burn. I've seen you walk into death like it's nothing. But lately…"
She turned to him.
> "You're not fighting anymore. You're floating. Letting the gods push you."
> "I don't know how to pull anymore," he said quietly. "Everything I touch either dies… or turns me into something I don't want to be."
Kaelith moved closer, close enough that their shoulders touched.
Then softer:
> "I miss your smile."
Elliot gave a sad laugh. "Did I ever really smile?"
She looked up at him. Rain tapping softly around them.
> "You did. Once. When you made fun of my sword grip the first time we trained."
> "You nearly stabbed me."
> "Exactly. You smiled because you knew I'd get better."
That made him finally turn to her — and for the first time in days, the storm in his eyes softened.
---
The silence wasn't awkward.
It was weightless. Safe.
He reached for her hand — not out of need, but out of want.
And she laced her fingers through his without hesitation.
---
Later, as the rain deepened and the firelight flickered low, Kaelith sat in his lap, cloak wrapped around them both.
No words. No command. No tension.
Just her forehead against his, breath steady, skin warm.
> "You're not a god to me," she whispered.
> "What am I?"
> "The boy who fought alone for too long."
She kissed him. Soft. Lingering. Not desperate.
Not because they were running out of time — but because for once, they weren't.
---
Their clothes came off slowly.
Each touch was patient. Gentle. Earned.
Not like the heat of their first night — but a deeper connection now. One where they breathed through each other. Where every sigh was a story. Every moan, a release.
Kaelith trembled when he touched her, but not from fear — from trust.
Elliot was shaking too.
> "Tell me to stop," he whispered.
> "Don't you dare."
And when they came together, it wasn't fireworks.
It was peace.
It was choosing each other in a world that had taken everything else.
---
Afterward, Kaelith lay against his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over his ribs, where the Mark now slept dimly.
> "Promise me something."
> "Another one?" he chuckled.
> "Mhm."
> "Alright. What?"
She kissed his jaw.
> "If the gods come for you… and I'm not there…"
> "Don't let them take you."
Elliot pressed his lips to her forehead.
> "Not even if it kills me."
---