𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚆𝚊𝚛 (𝙻𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚡 𝙻𝚞𝚟𝚒𝚊)

[Luvia]

Baking bread? Him, a baker?

This new information made her smile. She almost couldn't imagine that. Dimitri looked nothing like the part, more like a rogue or pretty thief, one she'd fall for and lose all her gold to.

He would stand out amidst a modest bakery, surrounded by flour and butter and mouth-watering pastries. Why did she imagine him as clumsy and delightfully ungraceful? His height seemed like it could easily work against him. Put him in a cramped place and it would make for an easy spell to bring about chaos and absolute disaster. Fiamma chuckled at the thought, though she didn't share it.

Then again—she'd seen him wield that spear of his. The man knew how to move, alright.

As silly as it was, she had never actually considered the fact that he had a family, not until now.

Just like her, he'd been taken from his loved ones, though contrary to her, Dimitri must have been enlisted to the war much later. It meant that he very much remembered his family, knew them well by name and face and shape and heart.

Guilt gnawed at her once more as a result, though it was his hand that suddenly warmed hers that distracted her from herself.

Oh.

A knowing look passed her eyes as she regarded the gesture.

Was he able to sense her inner turmoil? Was it her magic spurring him on? Or had he reached out because… he wanted to be closer to her?

Why did that feel so comforting and good?

Why was his mere presence affecting her so much?

She responded by giving his hand a light and reciprocating squeeze in return. She felt clumsy, expressing affection like this.

Their journey together was teaching her a lot of wonderful new things, one of those being that she was starting to express herself more freely. No one was here to judge her as the Golden Destroyer. She didn't have to be strong and fearless. She didn't even have her magic. All Fiamma could do was listen to that silent voice in her heart and act on it, if she so wished.

A moment of clarity hit her, shaking her deeply to her very core and soul.

Did she think that… this was much better than going back? She wasn't donning Incanda's colors anymore. Did she prefer it this way?

Dimitri's question made her ponder about this in more detail.

Who was she?

Who was she if not a magical war weapon? Who was she to Hela, who'd long stopped treating her with affection like this? Who was she to all those people who had joined her sister's cause? A hero, a symbol of hope?

No, what about Fiamma as a woman?

It embarrassed her that she had no immediate answer to give him.

"I… I don't know," instead of putting on airs, she shared her thought process with him.

"I was taken from my home when I was but a young child. I don't remember what my parents did or what that young version of me liked or disliked. All I know is stupid old men who ravaged and took and plundered and defiled."

Her tone became grim, her eyes refusing to meet his for some reason.

"If I try to remember what brought me joy, there are very few things that come to mind. But…"

She hadn't even noticed that her body was tense until she let loose of a long exhale. Her shoulders slumped and she relaxed again.

"Flowers. I think I really like flowers. I've seen glimpses of some whenever Kasaran paraded me around banquets to either impress or intimidate his men. I once snuck one with me, back to where he kept me. It was a beautiful purple color. It died and withered with nothing to sustain it, however. If I could learn how to grow and tend for flowers like that? I think I might be doing that."

It was almost laughable, really. She was a girl who was known for being destructive and wild. She of all people wanted to take care of something as fragile and delicate as flowers?

Her cheeks burned at that realization. She waited for him to laugh at her. Everyone else would have.

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

Dimitri wished he had something so simple as her magic to blame for the way his hand found her own. No, it was simply his own sad and desperate need to cling to this small thing that they were finding between them. He would not be so stupid as to think it was love. They had known each other for three days. But, he was finding companionship and, gods damn him, he liked Fiamma. That was the worst of it.

Incanda was the invading army, the enemy. How was he meant to walk his way onto a battlefield and fight again when they might be like her? She was a commander of their army, the sister to their leader, and he liked her. A soldier on the fields would be even less likely to be someone he wanted to cut down. When she squeezed his hand in return, he nearly broke apart and scattered to the winds. The war just felt so... stupid. Both sides felt like they were just caught up in a game they had no chance of winning.

Of course, it was just childish inner turmoil. The same thing everyone who fought had to think about. It was nothing compared to what came out of Fiamma's mouth next. Maybe it was hearing it in his own voice, but the hopeless way she said that she did not know cut deep, cut so differently from his own thoughts. Probably because he knew nothing about her past and he was making sweeping assumptions about how they were not so different. He found out a moment later that they were.

When she began to explain her past, how her life had been from the earliest she could remember, Dimitri could only tighten his hand in her own even more. The way she worded it left him wondering, left him worrying about what she might have endured when she was a prisoner. He worried about his own actions, about how he had treated her. Had he taken too many liberties, hurt her with his rash actions that morning? When he glanced over, she was avoiding his own gaze and it made his mouth to dry. The small pauses felt like an eternity as he listened to her finally make her way to the answer.

Dimitri might have gone and found the charred remains of Kasaran then and there if he had any inkling of how to locate them. Drag his shoes through the ashes and scatter them to the winds. Hela was a monster, but clearly a monster had created her. Despite everything, Fiamma's sister must have cared deeply for her to have kept the woman beside him from becoming just like them. At the very least, he could be grateful for that. In the end, there was only one thing he could think. Flowers he could do.

"I don't know about Incanda, but florist is a common enough profession in Vensel. We had one in our village, though they were half apothecary as well. Growing anything that needed growing."

He nudged her with his shoulder, a demand for her attention since she was having trouble meeting his gaze.

"I've never been to the capital, but I know they have a whole garden that is open to the public if there are no royals using it. I'm sure someone else could tell you more, but they have black and red roses grown in the shape of the Vensel crest. Maybe we can go see it one day."

When he said that, he seemed to be a little hopeful, but it lasted only a moment. Then, he was looking at the ground again, stuck on the other thing that had been bothering him. What she had gone through. What had it been? Dimitri was too much of a coward to ask her directly, and equally afraid of what his temper would do if she told him. He was not foolish enough to be angry with her like some men might. He was afraid that he might go find someone else just to take out the anger. Some wandering Incanda soldier who would have nothing to do with it. Instead, he offered her a weak comfort.

"If you don't want me to touch you again... Like this morning, I mean. I wasn't planning to..."

A lie.

"But, if you would rather not be touched that way, when we fix this, I won't. I promise. I'm not the type to force myself on someone. Hells, I've never even..."

Dimitri walked himself into an uncomfortable little corner as always. His mouth seemed to wander on its own when it came to the mage. So, he sighed to hide his growing mix of annoyance and embarrassment, both emotions pointing in very different directions, and rose to his feet. Even as the blanket fell off and he stood at arm's length, their hands stayed linked.

"I'll be going to bed, then."

 

[Luvia]

Maybe we can go see it one day.

Her heart did that thing again. It picked up in speed and her insides felt all ticklish and alight.

Whether he was aware of it or not, Dimitri had just included her in his vision for the future. It meant that he wanted her to be a part of it. It triggered a myriad of different emotions within her.

Fiamma felt flattered, smitten. At the same time, she also felt conflicted and unsure. After all was said and done, was there a future for them? Together? It almost made her wish that this silly predicament of theirs would never come to an end. That way, she would have a reason to stay close to him, to prolong these small moments of peace between them, even if just for a little while longer. She couldn't deny it then—she wanted to see it, that garden of his.

"No!"

She stood up in a rush shortly after he did. Her mind raced. What had compelled him to say something like that? Was it the way she'd ran out of the bedroom this morning? Had she sent him mixed signals?

"I mean—what I mean is—," the timbre of her voice was soaked with panic, insistent and urgent. She tugged him back towards her, until their bodies almost touched, and she was able to peer down at him from up close. Her free hand settled down on his shoulder.

"What I meant was..."

Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump.

Unable to get her heart to quiet down, that hand on his shoulder went to the back of his head instead and Fiamma pushed him against her chest, holding him there. She felt too nervous to let him see her face in that moment, again, though this time around for an entirely different reason.

"I liked it. I liked what we did. You didn't force yourself on me."

Then it finally dawned on her—the reason why he'd expressed himself in such a way. It made her let go of his hand and wrap that arm around him in a gentle embrace.

Gods, this man was kind. So, so kind.

"You didn't do anything uncalled for. It didn't trigger anything unpleasant for me either. They'd never... violated me in that way." No. What Fiamma had gone through instead was brute force. She'd been beaten and whipped, and if it wasn't her, she'd been made to watch as they did the same to her sister. The men she'd dealt with were sordid and greedy, unforgiving and cruel, even long after Kasaran, after he and his men disappeared. She had another realization then. She had avoided men. She had shied away from interacting with any unless her responsibilities demanded it.

Until now. Until this knight who loathed to hurt her and wanted to show her flowers.

"Let me rephrase that. I like you, Dimitri."

It was absurd, almost. Had they met under normal circumstances, such words would have never made it past her lips, but they hadn't. And funnily enough, being in his body had made it possible for her to connect with him in a way that transcended ordinary understanding.

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

Dimitri could not help himself. When Fiamma stood and pulled his hand, nearly shouting the words, he flinched. Not because he was afraid. But, because he was truly worried he had done something wrong. It was some sick joke that he had wanted to kill her three days ago and now he was worried about upsetting her. The shock and worry was written all over the features of Fiamma's face as Dimitri tried to keep himself from becoming even more vulnerable. While she stumbled for words, he looked like he was ready to crumble on the spot and drift away as dust. And when he became too much for him, his face was pressed into her chest.

It should have been strange given that it was his own body that held him, but the gesture got through. His breathing settled and he just rested his forehead against her. The words found him and he could only think to grab fistfuls of her shirt as relief shuddered through him. Good. He had not hurt her. As the tension drained out of him, he realized the magic had crept up without him realizing, had been on the verge of exploding out. And as she went on to give him details he was not entitled to hear, the dark truth of her youth laid bare again, the fingers that held her shirt tightened. Fuck, he could kill every last one of them. Forget his body, he would use the magic in this one to burn them all...

What had she just said? He was hearing this wrong. Had to be. Dimitri could not believe the words would be said so openly. It was like she had peeked inside of him and wanted to be the first one to say it. They were not in love, not so early. Neither of them had the ability to do that so quickly. Just admitting that she liked him was enough. It was more than enough for him to open up and tell her the same. So, he pulled his face away from her chest and looked up. Gods, it was still strange looking into his own face at moments like this. However, this was too important to let it stop him.

"I feel the same, Fiamma. It feels silly to make such a big deal of it, but I like you. And I think we shouldn't rush forward with any big decisions, even after we solve this problem."

There was a subtle hint to the words, a small desperation. Don't go back to Incanda. I won't go back to Vensel. Not right away. That was what he wanted to say. Instead, he pushed himself up on the tips of these infernally short toes and pressed his lips to her own. Bodies be damned, he needed to get this point across. And, with his eyes closing, he held it for a few long moments. That was all he could stand. When his eyes opened and he saw that face, Dimitri nearly stumbled backward, looking away.

"That was... significant more awkward than I expected. So, I'll have to ask you to wait for tomorrow morning. Because I very much enjoyed it."

There was something new in the look Dimitri gave her then. Half-lidded eyes and a little bit of that hunger from when they had kissed. On his face, it had been all-consuming and intense. From hers, it was sensual, those golden eyes holding promise of something wonderful. He was lucky he could not see it for himself. That look on Fiamma's face would be the end of him.

Finally, Dimitri pulled away from the embrace and their connected hands. The idea of looking at his own face any more after that kiss honestly made him want to die. So, this time, he smiled and spoke with more confidence.

"I am actually quite tired. I've been keeping myself busy so your magic doesn't drive me crazy. So, I'll be going to bed. If you'd like to join me, we can..."

This time, he could not manage to say it. To say that he wanted to go to bed holding each other again. Instead, there was another soft smile as he turned and walked back toward the door to the small house. There was a lot to look forward to tomorrow.

 

[Luvia]

That night, she'd followed him to lay down beside him again. There was no need for any pretense between them, not anymore. Dimitri had admitted that he liked her too—it was all she needed to hear. Their dynamic had progressed from hostile to amicable within an incredibly short amount of time and it made her hopeful; both for the future and for their people.

This time around, Fiamma found herself pulling him into her arms instead, with his back against her chest. Their kiss in front of the house had been odd, given the circumstances, and yet, it had also been the most sweet and memorable thing she'd ever experienced. He'd gotten his point across and it warmed her insides, even now. Holding him like this was her way to confirm that none of it was a dream, that this was very much real, that he was real.

As they tried to drift off into sleep, it didn't escape her mind just how perfectly well her body fit against his. It also didn't escape her how soft it felt. Instead of falling asleep right away, she ended up studying the back of her own head, eyes trailing down past the curve of her slender neck and down her back. Seeing herself in such a state was incredibly eye-opening. If this spell proved itself to be consistent, their roles would be reversed by the morning. Then this—would be his view, if they managed to stay in the same position. It got her feeling all sorts of self-conscious.

He was very attracted to her, that much was obvious. But how would he react to seeing her for what she was? Branded and scarred. Her back was a canvas of the abuse she'd had to endure. Kasaran had forbidden them to heal each other. In that way, she wasn't clean, or rather, that's how Fiamma felt about herself in that regard.

She ended up hugging him even tighter, as if his mere body warmth was able to chase away her demons.

Nothing mattered then except for that—the shared silence between two lost souls who found comfort in each other, unexpectedly and unreservedly.

- - -

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

She awoke to the insistent sound of rain against the windowpanes.

The light inside the bedroom was relatively gloomy and dark, no thanks to the heavy clouds that had taken residency up in the sky.

Fiamma's body felt heavy, but well-rested; she hadn't slept so well in a very long time. She felt strangely at peace, and safe.

Her first instinct was to stretch, to raise her arms above her head and to feel the sleep shake out of her limbs, though she quickly realized that she couldn't.

She was back in her own body again.

Dimitri's strong arms were still loosely around her, spooning her from behind.

She could feel his soft breath against the back of her neck, causing for a ripple of goosebumps to spread all over her skin. After their little confessions from last night, just simply being like this with him was nearly too much for her heart to handle and her senses honed in on his presence.

Yup, she was wide awake now.

Her magic responded excitedly and damn near bubbled out of her as well, wishing to be released, begging her to use it. It distracted her from the fact that his hand had somehow managed to slip under the hem of her shirt, resting dangerously close to her bare breasts underneath it. She used her magic to check whether he was awake, projecting it out of her body and caressing it over his; he was asleep. It must have happened sometime overnight then.

Involuntarily, Fiamma began to squirm a little. If that hand started to wander, she was sure that her soul would leap out of her body all on its own.

Ever one to mask her embarrassment with forwardness, she swatted at it.

"Where do you think you're touching? You brazen knight," she murmured with the hint of a pout, nudging him awake. "Look at you, finally revealing your true colors."

Her body heat went up a notch, creeping to the tips of her ears and turning them a lovely shade of red.

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

Dimitri had to admit that he did not mind being the smaller one in this instance. Her height, or lack of, had been a frustrating experience for the last few days, but the way he fit so neatly against her was comfortable. So damned comfortable that he barely even had time to think about what the morning would hold before his eyes drifted closed. That did not, however, stop him from dreaming.

That night, he was consumed with thoughts about their kiss. Not the clumsy and awkward show of affection outside, but the hungry and needy ones they had shared in this bed. Thankfully, his mind was not keen to repeat the act of kissing his own body. No, he saw Fiamma beneath him. Flushed and panting, she looked beautiful in a way that was starkly different from the sweet and serene face she made when sleeping. He wanted to taste those lips again. Still held in his own body's arms, Dimitri pressed closer until they were curled together tightly.

---

When his eyes finally fluttered open, it was to the feeling of Fiamma swatting at his hand. Well, that wad a part of the feeling. The other was silky skin, almost too soft against his touch. Sleep was still holding on to the edges of him while she tried to tease and he groaned, bundling her closer and pulling her tight against his chest. His senses were overwhelmed by her voice, her scent, the feel of her skin. Everything was Fiamma and he could barely separate it from the dreams he had the night before. If the groggy groan and the way he held her tighter was no indication, the fact that he was already growing hard against the curve of her rear was.

"My true colors? I thought you were waiting for this just as much as me."

Dimitri leaned forward to press his nose against the back of her neck. He was practically nuzzling against her while reality began to piece together. But, when it finally struck him what kind of position they were in, and more important that it was not a dream, he did not pull away suddenly. His own face became hot and for a moment he truly did consider stopping this all. Only the words from last night kept him close. They both liked one another. While it might not be love, it was enough for him to know what he wanted. So, instead of caving to her little tease, he spread his fingers wide on her skin, brushing against the underside of her breast.

The noise that escaped him was surprise, shame, and excitement all mixed together. No, he would not be stopping this today. He did manage to pull away a fraction, just to give himself time to breath, and his eyes drifted down the curve of her neck and back. He took in a sharp breath when he noticed exactly what she had been worried about. A web of scars that looked like they must have been the product of years of abuse. With a small growl, he wrapped his other arm around her and leaned close.

"I truly hope you burned everyone who did this into ash."

And for a moment, that was all he thought he could offer her. Looking down at the lattice of pale lines, he felt like he could do nothing for her. Until an urge crept up from deep in his chest. Dimitri leaned forward and brushed his nose against the base of her neck, pushing her hair aside. His lips found the scars and pressed against them with such gentle affection that he did not know he was capable of it. Each kiss was slow and methodical, finding different little ridges of scars for each one until he was as far down as her loose shirt would allow. He growled the next words against her back.

"The first time we switched and I saw your face, I had no idea what to do. All I could think of was how unfair it was for my enemy to be so beautiful. If you wanted to know my true colors, there they are. A knight completely disarmed by your face."

Whether it was his own embarrassment or just the overwhelming tension he was creating within himself, Dimitri knew something broke when he admitted to that moment. She might not know about the spear he had held, but she knew he was completely helpless against her. It was all over. The game was done. They were venturing into something very real. So, he slid his hand higher and sank his fingers into the softness of her breast. And he groaned against her skin while his eyes fell shut. Gods, it felt so much better to do this with his own hand. His wide palm fit her perfectly against it, grasping and squeezing with a persistent need. The light pressure against her rear became stronger as he grew to full length immediately.

 

[Luvia]

Ngh.

When his fingers on her skin spread instead of leaving it, she tried her best to suppress a pleased moan.

Being back inside her body felt both foreign and familiar. The result of that was that Fiamma's senses were incredibly heightened and that she reacted overtly sensitive to every little touch.

I truly hope you burned everyone who did this into ash.

She turned her face and buried it into her pillow in shame. Her cheeks flushed and her breathing quickened. He'd found them. He'd found the markings that she despised.

Yet, unlike anything she could have imagined, Dimitri proved himself to be every bit the honorable soul that he was once again; it didn't seem like he was disgusted or appalled by her. No, quite the opposite.

A shiver went through her body when he brushed his nose against her nape and she burrowed a fist into the pillow next to her face. He was being so gentle with her, so intimate. In that moment, it felt as though his very essence was sweeping into every corner of her body and lit it up from the inside out, warming it, sparking it alive in a way she'd never experienced before. Being held like this, being seen and acknowledged—it was the greatest gift someone could have ever given her.

His kisses were accompanied by muffled groans and with her squirming some more in his embrace.

Then, when she took note of the switch in his voice, she turned her head in a way again that allowed her to silently gasp for air.

Weak. His words made her feel weak. In a good, tingly way.

When she squirmed again, she moved in a manner that encouraged his hand to wander more upwards and when it did, she clasped a hand over her mouth and her eyebrows furrowed with how good it felt. Her plush rear moved back against him in response and her vision blurred for a second as she processed something hard and hot touching her. Mapping it out like this was impossible, but one thing was clear—she had been right in her assumption that he was big. In this state? Bigger than she had thought, even. The idea of him being this aroused by her fanned her own flames and she became increasingly more heated and needy.

She timidly whispered his name before an urge of her own damn near possessed her. Feeling him finally touch her was good, but it could be better.

"Wait." Fiamma turned in his arms.

If it hadn't been for the expression on her face that very clearly showed that she was enjoying this, he might have been discouraged from continuing.

"I want to see your face when you do this to me."

She was drowning in an ocean of stormy grey when their gazes clashed. The air between them was heady and heavy with a searing pull of attraction and unconditional want. At first, she brushed a hand over the sharp lines of his jaw, over his cheek. Then, she diminished the distance between them and placed a sensual kiss on his lips. Gone was her shame from earlier, the embarrassment, her self-consciousness. Now, all she wanted to do was to find ways to bring them even closer.

Fiamma's eyes were half-lidded by the time she pulled back, as if hypnotized by him.

"Take off my shirt, Dimitri."

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

If she had been completely silent and simply allowed him to continue, Dimitri might have lost steam. Despite the inferno of want inside of him, this was all new to him. She was right that any hint of rejection might end it all. He had only gotten so far coasting on the momentum of their delicate kiss the day before, the intimacy of the conversations, and a bit of sleep fogging his thoughts. The groan she let out at the brush of skin on skin, though... the way she pushed her face into the pillow to keep herself from making too much sound. He could not kiss that and it was like she was taking control of him, a type of magic that had nothing to do with her abilities.

When she pushed back against him, pressed her absolutely devastatingly attractive ass against his needy length, it was his turn to make a sound. A groan that rumbled through his chest and against her back. If she had waited a moment longer to speak, he might have started to press against her just for more of it, like a desperate teen trying to get anything he could. Instead, she said wait and everything about him froze. No, Dimitri was going to have trouble being anything but a good boy.

That thought lasted all of a heartbeat before she turned in his arms and he saw her face. Gods, her face... the little dip of her bottom lip, those golden flames in her eyes, and her freckles that cursed him to obey anything she said while he could see them. No, Dimitri would not last long if he tried to cling to his knightly honor when confronted with Fiamma in her own body. It was when she told him what she wanted that he became acutely aware of how close they were again, how her shirt had tangled and pulled higher from his arm being under it as she turned. And, damn him, he gasped as her fingers brushed his jaw and ran over his cheek.

Another soft groan as her reward for the kiss, his eyes closing as he followed her, trying to steal another when she withdrew. If she had just wanted to kiss more, to continue from the last morning, he would have done it. And he was eternally grateful that she did not wish to stop there. Her hooded eyes were let with a slow lick of his lips, like he was savoring her taste. His own eyes were no different, darker with the way that desire was boiling over inside him. Storm clouds were now dark smoke, verging on black as they could not help but slide down to the offending garment. He had words on him lips, but they felt inadequate, so he simply moved closer to press his mouth to her own while he started to tug her top up. When he pulled away, it was to throw the garment over her head and off the bed, his eyes greedy as they moved down.

"Fuck..."

It was almost insane that he had been in that body for days, had been bold enough to touch it in the forest yesterday, but he had never looked. Even bathing had required him to keep his eyes averted as Fiamma cleaned him. They were so perfect. A hand moved up to sink fingers into the impossible softness, cupping and lifting so that her nipple was between his fingers, carefully avoided. Pale skin that draw all of the attention to the perky little pink peaks, begging for him to touch them. And, of course, there were freckles dusted along her shoulders and her chest, covering the tops of her breasts. It was only all the discipline of almost a decade of training that kept him from diving between them. Instead, he moved down to her neck, kissing one, twice.

"No wonder you told me not to look. Gods, Fia, this is unfair."

The kissing grew more wild, his mouth opening to suck against her skin as he moved lower with each one, finding the curve of her neck. When he reached her collarbone, he felt possessed. His mouth opened and teeth dragged along her pale flesh, making a set of red lines before he bit down hard enough to leave little indents on his teeth. His breathing was growing more ragged, his hand playing with her breast in just the way he had learned from experience the day before. And when he was finally face to face with them, he released her, slid that hand to her back as his mouth closed around her nipple.

All at once, he groaned against her skin, his hand sliding down her back to find the swell of her rear. That was when he truly lost it. Knight or not, he had been obsessed with the view of her from behind, of that moment when he had seen her dress bunched high. And the way his fingers felt, practically pulled in by how full it was, it made him buck his hips, eyes fluttering closed with he tested the feel of her nipple against the tip of his tongue.