Ashan 79, Arc 719
Stepping through the arched doorway of the moderately sized villa room, Alistair removed his crown circlet and bowed quaintly before the bed of the man who lied before him. Kleine Volgotha... a man who had gone through much, infinitely a lot and all for the sake of a selfish and vindictive soul that sought to use him without reciprocation. If there was one individual the mage had truly always wronged, someone he had always exploited and treated poorly and communicated to inexorably wrong, it was Kleine. And yet at first, when walking the halls of the villa after speaking to Kaelrik on these matters, Alistair believed he was coming to this room in order to say a farewell; one that would last for a long, long time.But the more he walked, and the more he thought of saying such a long goodbye to the people who had always loved him... who had always been there for him, merely to delegate them to Helice's rulership... Alistair realized that he could not.
Instead, he came to speak with Kleine for a different purpose. Not to say farewell, but to welcome him to a new beginning.
Alistair stepped to the Lotharro's bedside, placing a palm over his arm and smoothing over the surface. Kleine was asleep, leaving Alistair only to observe him. He had gotten more rugged of late, deigning not to shave quite so much. And, though he'd mostly been in the villa, he'd gone out a fair bit to see the sun and explore the corridors of Agaperos, coming out with Daniel and Damien to witness the oceans and the cliffs, and the young ruins of recent pasts. His skin had become a matte bronze color across his form, tan in a similar shade to Alistair and largely due to the same exposure from the Helian sun.
The Helian sun that Alistair - apparently - owned, as Arsinos... God of Light. He laughed at the thought, all of the locals claiming a thing for him that he wasn't, and him validating it merely for the purpose of political power.
But also, to give them hope.
Alistair - maybe due to being a Paragon, or... something else - had changed his way of thinking, of late. He wanted to do good. To right all of his prior wrongs; to, himself, become 'pure' of sin and filled with love.
And so, as he loomed over the sleeping body of his surely fatigued, beloved friend... the mage leaned in to lay a soft kiss upon the Lotharro's cheeks.
And from that, the younger man was awoken.
He stretched, and he yawned, and he laughed lightly as Alistair moved to playfully tickle and tease his sides. And then... he stared, in confused wonder, at why the man was there at all - why he had presented himself to him and why he had such a wicked smile upon his lips.
And then their lips touched. Alistair kissed him, over and again. Their lips locked and their tongues danced, and the young Lotharro was bewildered and yet... overjoyed.
Though he imagined this had to be a dream. The man he had loved - who he had always loved - would never have acted like this. He had always been so distant, and though they had so many moments where Kleine felt dear to him and loved, it was never truly in that way. Never, except for the times they laid together amidst the waves of the Orm'del Sea, both for passion and the conception of... their child, Asher.
Who had been plucked from them, but, not anymore. Zarik was gone, and Kleine had returned to the child's life as a mother would. In truth, he'd been happier of late. And so he supposed that was why he was having, or so he thought, happy dreams.
