Mr. & Mrs Meropide

Chapter Twelve: Laughter Behind Closed Doors

As they continued walking through the dimly lit corridors of the fortress, both Clorinde and Wriothesley fell into their own thoughts. The echoes of their footsteps were the only sounds between them, yet the silence was anything but uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence shared between people who didn't need words to understand one another.

Suddenly, Clorinde let out a small laugh, breaking the quiet. Wriothesley glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. "What's so funny?"

Clorinde shook her head slightly, still smiling. "It's just... look at us. We're absolutely filthy." She gestured to their sweat-streaked faces and the dirt and grime that clung to their clothes.

Wriothesley looked down at himself, then at her, and a grin spread across his face. "You're right. We look like we've just crawled out of the underbelly of the fortress."

Clorinde chuckled. "I guess that's what happens when you put everything into a fight."

They continued walking, a lightness between them now that hadn't been there before. It was clear to both of them that there was no need for formalities by now, and that they saw each other as very good friends.

After a moment, Wriothesley spoke up, his tone casual. "You know, we should hang out sometime. Outside of all this."

Clorinde raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Are you suggesting a break from fortress life? That sounds almost... rebellious coming from you."

Wriothesley laughed softly. "Maybe a little. But seriously, have you ever thought about leaving the fortress for a bit? Just to see something different, to clear your head?"

Clorinde considered this for a moment. "You spend so much time here, Wriothesley. Don't you ever miss the surface? It might be nice to get away for a while."

He nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "I suppose I don't think about it much. The fortress is my responsibility, and it's where I'm needed. But... you're right. It wouldn't hurt to get out for a while. Maybe we could plan something together?"

Clorinde smiled, feeling a sense of anticipation. "I think that would be good for you—and for me. We both could use a change of scenery now and then."

Wriothesley grinned. "Then it's a plan. We'll make it happen."

The conversation left both of them with a sense of excitement, the idea of spending time outside the fortress together opening up new possibilities. As they continued down the corridor, the future seemed a little brighter, filled with opportunities they hadn't yet explored.

As they continued down the corridor, the conversation naturally shifted back to the topic of combat. They discussed the intricacies of different fighting styles, the importance of strategy, and the thrill of facing a skilled opponent. Both had faced countless battles, and there was a shared understanding of the unique challenges and rewards that came with their line of work.

Wriothesley, intrigued by Clorinde's dedication to the Pankration ring, began to wonder aloud. "You know, there's something about the rawness of a good fight that's... satisfying," he said, his tone thoughtful. "It's not just about winning, but about testing yourself, finding your limits, and sometimes, pushing past them."

Clorinde nodded, agreeing with his sentiment. "Exactly. Every fight is a chance to learn, to adapt. It's not just about strength or skill—it's about the mind, too. Staying sharp, anticipating the next move... it's all part of the challenge."

"So, Clorinde," Wriothesley continued, his tone becoming more serious, "these regular visits to the ring—what drives you to keep coming back? I know you've always had a fierce dedication to your training, but this seems different."