PepsiLotus Shrine (Alfred/Alear)

Placido Silentio Stare Possumus

"Hey, Divine One?"

The words spoken to him nearly fizzled into the wind of the evening skies. Alear had no need to, but checked who his visitor was out of habit.

"Alfred," His Grace welcomed his company over to his side with a dip of his chin, "Is something wrong?"

The king of Firene seemed to gauge his words in the few footfalls required to stand shoulder to shoulder with his deity. His hands joined the stone railing beside Alear's with a contemplative slowness. A decided breath sharpened Alear's attention, spurring him to meet the other's gaze.

"Do you ever think about...the other you? From Lord Rafal's world, I mean."

For a moment, Alear paused. It's hard not to reflect on such miraculous segments of one's life, especially one such time he spoke to his own visage from another timeline. Seeing yourself- your own grave- it's a sight that never fully fades from view, no matter how hard you squeeze your eyes closed. "I do. I'll admit, it's sometimes hard for me to not think about them." In his rumination, his sight had wandered down to the sea far below the Somniel. A quick correction back to the man next to him had his shoulders jolt a bit, tugging him from the recess of his mind.

"What brought this up, Alfred?"

The brushing of cloth voiced the other's shrug. Alfred stared out at the horizon, or perhaps beyond it still, and continued churning his thoughts. Whatever had him this somber must be of some personal weight, so Alear smoothed his hand over his partner's other shoulder, tugging him a hair closer for comfort. The gesture did not go thankless, as Alfred relaxed a bit under the warmth.

"I just haven't been able to get... the other me out of my head. At first it didn't bug me too much. He didn't seem too happy with the life he chose, and I'm pretty lucky to have what I have. But I mean, he had to have had his reasons, right? Different circumstances?" Alfred peered his partner out of his periphery, tilting his head like he always does when he can't exactly word something like he wants to. Normally it's an endearing tic of his, but on this occasion, it expresses the conflicting emotions the king had over the late counterpart.

"I mean, would I be no different if something happened to you? I'd like to think not, but you never know. Well- I mean, that's not to say, I wouldn't-" A few failed gestures- or maybe even dud brain sorcery, who knows- and Alfred sighs.

"I get what you mean, dear." Alear would have been amused, had the topic not been so heavy. Truthfully, he also thinks about the fate of his mirror. If something happened to him- if he never became an emblem, and thus was unable to continue fighting... Would he have made the same choices? Would he have used everything he had to find someone- anyone- to take his place and fulfill the mission? Did he even have the strength to do so? These thoughts are pointless, the answers if they even exist hold no sway on today, or even tomorrow. "I do think about them. When I saw them, I'd say they either had far more of Lumera's power in them," Alear steadied his breath, "or they were simply born to Lumera in the first place. Their hair and eyes were a stunning blue...just like hers were."

Alfred seems to shake off a bit of his troubles with this. He perks up, intrigued by such a description. And, of course, a moment or so thinking on it had his shoulders lowering again.

"And...that Divine Dragon died. Even with all that Divine power..."

"Yes. Sometimes I wonder, if being Sombron's child, requiring so much of my life to be lost to my current person, having nearly all of my family stripped of me so soon- all of it- if it's what needed to happen...for me to succeed. To be alive today."

The silence that followed was not an uncomfortable one. Both men had things to mull over, to consider or reject in their heads. They may not be sharing these thoughts in real time, but the look Alfred gives his partner is as clear as the stars themselves, bearing witness to these words and feelings stretching out over an unknowable sea of time.

"I think more than anything, it's your hard work and the allies and friends you've made that have kept your body from being parallel to the ground. Not to say the other Divine Dragon didn't give it their all, but I think it's more than just which one of you had heterochromia."

Alear did laugh at that, shaking his head at the comically simplified description of differences. Still, it is so very Alfred to sum it up as such. Gazing into the little windows of meadows perched upon his partner's cheeks filled his heart with a surge of contentment.

"And that's why you are so very different from the Alfred of that world. Your view is so..." This Divine One twirled his hand a bit to churn his thoughts for a proper descriptor.

"...much less of a stick in the mud, yeah?"

The two giggled. Is this technically speaking ill of the dead? No, no. It's just a contrast of personalities, of course of course.

"I wouldn't have you any other way, Alfred." Alear's fond smile was audible in his tone, and it was certainly felt in the kiss they shared in a moment so laden with quiet fondness.

Their relationship was a relaxed one, even in spite of the junior's unending energy and vigor. Moments of reflection like this were rare, but never shied from. They both appreciated the time to dissect their own feelings with someone open to their thoughts- and Alear for certain valued such companionship fiercely.

He hoped that in every tender touch, and in every affirmation, that this was expressed plainly to his dear golden lotus. Of course, he need hope very little when that self same attention made his spouse's smile glow in the way it always does when aimed in his direction. The warmth in Alfred's arms as they encircle his shoulders, the way he so brightly exclaims his love on a daily basis, it's all a response so pointed to his own affections.

It's true, his fate is not as fortunate in other worlds. Perhaps he never had a chance in some, or maybe he is utterly pampered in others. Whatever case that may be, the him that's here, in the here and now, and the man that counts as a second celestial body in radiance of his own accord, is his own lot in life. It's his, and his alone. The friends strewn across the Somniel and beyond, all fondly holding pieces of his heart upon their palms; the blue skies above his mother fought so hard to protect; the emblems that gave all they could in a duty unfathomable to any being but their own; the family he found with his own two hands. Each a piece of his body, a thought in his mind, a cup of his soul.

Thoughts of his mirror may still haunt the corners of his mind, but the peace he has forged in both body and mind shall always placate the concerns that may rise.

The embroidery upon his nightstand holds testament to the bonds stronger than fate that his dear mentors had laid out in simple writing. The pact ring, ever close to his husband, always a reminder of the same to his own other half.

The future may be bright, with the sky sewn shut and Sombron full and well defeated, but uncertainty still rears its head. He had learned of Alfred's condition shortly before their wedding, and had been brainstorming ways he could help soothe the inflamed symptoms ever since. (To even consider if this knowledge would harm their relationship was nonsensical to the Divine One. This of course needed to be restated many times, but never without a calming patience driving it.) Their time together, in quantity, is uncertain. Alear has some ideas, especially after speaking with both of his sort-of-cousins(?) from his mirror's world. But with the time not close yet, he wished to focus on the present as much as he could. In a way that, in time, had become not confined to just Alfred.

Each day was a new blessing, each meal shared a delight, each evening like this such a treasure to either man.

And even as they retire to bed, the hours of the day chaining them to the mattress so snugly, the quiet breaths slowing in occurrence from his beloved lotus held a special place in his heart. Alear pressed a kiss to the back of Alfred's slumbering head, a common ritual for him since they've begun sharing a room like this. It's grounding to listen to such melody. In, out. In out.

The stars do not bless their dreams this night, nor any other night.

They don't need it.