Forty Years of This [Monster Hunter World]

Chapter 49

The Commander stood just outside of his quarters where he had the most glorious view of the ocean before dawn. The Quartermaster sat behind him in one of their chairs with his clipboard and journal going through the day's work to come. It was a morning like any other.

"Both the Second and Third fleets arrived in the midst of an elder crossing," the Commander mused. "But the Fourth fleet arrived without issue. What do you think will happen to the Fifth? Think they'll make it before the Elder Dragon does?"

"We came in the middle of a crossing too," the Quartermaster replied. "I don't see a storm on the horizon, so maybe they'll be lucky like the Fourth, and their Elder Crossing will be a mild one." He sighed and set his work aside. "I could do without another massive hurricane. Even the yearly weak ones give me the shivers."

"I like the hurricanes," the Commander turned with a smile. "Because they always drive you to me."

"You don't need a hurricane to get me in your arms, Love." The Quartermaster returned his smile. They'd been together for thirty-five years, known each other for forty, and raised a daughter and three grandchildren together. A hurricane was far from necessary for a little physical intimacy.

"No," the Commander said. "But it makes me feel nice that you come to me when you're scared. You're like a... a dragon in your own right. They isolate when they're hurt or frightened."

"Oh? And what kind of dragon am I?"

"A legiana," the Commander replied without missing a beat. The Quartermaster's brows shot right up.

"That was fast. You've been thinking about that."

"Heh, since the day you spent the night in the infirmary with me." The morning sun was beginning to peak over the ocean and frame the Commander in golds. "In the moonlight, you looked a bit like one. At the time, I'd only seen one when I'd gone north with the Admiral, but it stuck with me. It was... beautiful."

"You thought I was beautiful?"

"I still do."

By noon, the first glimpses of the Fifth Fleet's sails could be seen on the horizon. The Commander held out the spyglass for the Field Team Leader, then waited for the lad to pass it off to the Forgemaster.

"There's three ships," the Commander announced. "They should be here early tomorrow morning or well after dark tonight. And when they arrive, we can finally start making headway. First order of business will be to establish a better supply line with the Research Base, and from there we can work on repairing it and getting it up in the air again. With the highly recommended, experienced hunters of the Fifth, we'll be able to explore more and improve our maps. Our current stretch goal is to discover where the elder dragons go when they arrive and what happens to them. At least three with a suspected fourth elder dragon have come through here, and we've been unable to locate them. That changes with the Fifth."

When the uproar that followed finally calmed, the Commander pulled the Quartermaster aside then hesitated. He looked regretful.

"Talk to me, Love." The Quartermaster said, brushing the Commander's vest with his knuckles.

"I..." He ground his teeth as he tried to put his emotions into words. "I don't have a replacement." He met the Quartermaster's gaze with his soulful eyes. "I was planning on training the Fifth's commander to eventually take over, and I've read over the Guild's recommendations. He's a skilled hunter with a head for people and logistics, but being faced with my potential replacement--"

"Stop calling your potential successor your 'replacement,' Love."

"Fine, being faced with a potential successor I know little about is unnerving. I can't leave Astera in the hands of someone I don't know. This is our life's work..."

"It seems simple to me." The Quartermaster shrugged. "This person isn't your successor."

"But I don't have anyone else--"

"Yes. Yes you do. And he might come to resent being..." The Quartermaster stopped having suddenly forgotten the word. "Being raised for the position since his cradle, but the Field Team Leader, our grandson, is a prime candidate. Give him five more years, and he'll be as old as you were when you were made Commander."

"But he'll be headed home then." The Commander looked dejectedly out over the ocean.

"A lot can happen in the next few years, Love," the Quartermaster countered.

"Don't get my hopes up."

"Come here." The Quartermaster pulled the Commander close to him and wrapped his arms around the man's waist. "Whatever happens, whoever succeeds you as Commander, Astera will always be our home, and I will always be by your side. There is no dragon I could compare you to because none of them could hold a candle to you. No Kulve Taroth is more golden, no Teostra more regal, no Kirin more beautiful, no anything more capable. Even the sapphire star, in all of its legends, pales in comparison to the sun."

The Commander leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the Quartermaster's waist. "You're a sappy romantic, you know that?"

"I have every reason to be with you around."

As the day drew on and as dusk began to settle around Astera, the manic bustle that came with the preparation for every new fleet began to die down. There was little left to do but wait and greet the Fifth. The Commander, fighting off fatigue and the strong desire to go to bed, sat beside the Quartermaster with a cup of something hot and nasty in his hand. It wasn't coffee, and it wasn't tea (or anything that should be called tea), but it was strong enough in flavor alone to keep him well awake. They looked out into the darkness of the horizon from the side of the command ship, but in the moonless sky they could see little. It would be several hours yet until the tragedy of the Fifth came to pass, and for now all was calm and quiet in Astera.

The Commander sighed. It was a contented sigh, the kind of sigh that came after a large meal or from being in love, and for the moment, it was both. He placed his hand on the Quartermaster's thigh and looked up to meet his pale eyes. If the Commander was the sun, then the Quartermaster was his moon.

"Forty years, Thurston. It's been forty years."

"And I'd do forty more years with you, Rory my love."

There was still time to wait and breathe, to have a quiet moment, before Zorah Magdaros would breach the surface of the ocean beneath the Fifth Fleet and destroy the command ship. There was still time before the arrival became a rescue, before Rory had to act as Commander and Thurston as his quartermaster, but until then, they spent their quiet evening as they always spent their quiet moments.