Vastarael and Elyonari's Moment 3

He stirred awake slowly, like a snowfall drifting down instead of crashing.

For a moment, he didn't move. His body was sore but in a strangely satisfying way. Muscles ached in the best places, the sensation of effort lingering under his skin.

The entire room was still sealed.

His sapphire had blanketed the balcony windows and the bedroom doors. The runes were still gently drifting. There was no way to tell if it was morning or night. No light filtered through. Time had stopped here.

But he didn't care. He didn't want to care.

Because the moment he turned his head, his elf was already there beside him.

She was curled up under the sheets that had been tossed over them during the night—or maybe one of the many nights?

Gods, how many times had they…?

He blinked and then smiled softly, remembering. His body did too, a shiver of satisfaction running down his spine. He didn't think he had it in him. Not like that.

He'd made her sing last night.

No, cry out.

Again. And again. And again.

She had clutched him so tightly, fingernails raking down his back, his name falling from her lips like divine prayers, like nothing else in the world mattered but him.

Her voice had cracked at one point. It had just broken into this breathless little gasp that shattered something inside him. And in that moment, he'd sworn to himself he would never let another soul make her sound that helplessly happy but him.

He'd made her melt, made her tremble, made her gasp his name like it was the only word that ever existed.

He was so good it even surprised him.

Vastarael sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, letting it flop back into his face. His grin curled smugly at the edges as he glanced sideways at her sleeping form again.

"By the Primordials, I'm a beast," he murmured to himself. "She's never walking again."

He really was narcissistic after all...

Under the blankets, Elyonari didn't flinch but her long ears twitched. Vastarael chuckled softly and leaned over, brushing a few loose strands of silver hair from her face. She was stunning and completely undone with nothing on, just her bare skin under blankets and peaceful sleep.

She looked so at peace. He hadn't seen her like this before. It made something warm pulse in his chest. He reached out and gently patted the top of her head, smoothing her hair down like she was some small animal he had to pamper.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he whispered in the gentlest tone. "You snore when you're too happy. It's kind of cute. Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

He paused, lips twitching with amusement.

"No. I'll tell Phaenora. She'd be proud of me. She did say I should loosen up. Not that she meant this, but…"

He trailed off, grinning helplessly. Then his expression softened. His thumb traced her cheek again and this time, his voice dropped to something far more tender.

"You really gave yourself to me… huh."

A weightless breath left him.

"I don't think I've ever had someone just… trust me like that. Without needing me to prove anything without conditions."

His hand stayed there, resting gently over her temple as if guarding her dreams.

And then, of course, his mind wandered to her. To Adelasta.

The winter queen of his soul. Cold, fierce, blunt and yet, the one who had been the first to see Elyonari's desire and push him toward her. He still remembered her exact words:

"If you won't choose her, then you've failed both of us."

She made him promise not just to love Elyonari but to make her feel it. And last night? He didn't just keep that vow.

He burned it into eternity.

Phaenora floated into his thoughts next. The ever-smirking, knowing tease who'd raised her brow every time Elyonari had brushed shoulders with him. She knew this would happen and probably placed bets with herself.

And now?

Now, his heart didn't just belong to one. It had expanded like the ocean breaking the limits of a frozen shore.

Adelasta. Phaenora. Elyonari.

Each one of them different, holding a piece of him. And somehow, he had more to give.

His voice softened again, now a monologue spoken out loud to no one, or maybe to the ceiling, or the gods, or himself.

"I should take her to the gardens in the palace when we get back… she's never been. Phae always said it'd be a romantic spot. Or… I could recreate the blooms. She loves bioluminescence. Maybe…"

He paused, his smile lopsided.

"Or something simpler. A night with no armor. Just her… in one of those oversized shirts she steals from me."

Under the blanket, Elyonari's lips tugged into a smile.

Vastarael leaned closer, brushing a light kiss to her temple.

"You're awake, aren't you?"

No reply.

"Guess I'll just have to do everything I said. Poor you. Spoiled by the most loyal man in all of Spheraphase. What a tragic fate. I'll cook. I'll brush your hair. I'll build you a room that only glows in moonlight."

He paused.

"I'll love you so thoroughly, you'll never remember a time I didn't."

And for the first time since the war began, since the Seventh Enlightenment gathered, since the chaos of power, fate, and responsibility, Vastarael finally smiled like a man at peace.

A sharp, sudden jolt of sensation made Elyonari squeal like a startled fawn as she curled tighter into the sheets.

"Va–Veneri—!"

Her voice cracked into a breathy whine as she felt the distinct nip of teeth catching the delicate edge of her pointed ear. Her entire body jerked as if struck by lightning, skin breaking out into goosebumps so violently she could hear the fabric shift under her.

Vastarael drew back slowly, his mouth still curled into a smug, lopsided grin, golden eyes watching her twitch beneath the covers like he'd just pulled a cruel prank on a kitten.

"Good morning— or is it night again? I have no idea anymore."

Elyonari groaned and tossed one of the pillows at his face, but it only bounced off his hair, which he had yet to brush back. Strands still framed his face, giving him a messier look than usual but, it suited him in this light.

Especially when he was grinning like that.

"It's still nightfall," she grumbled, half into the pillow she'd pulled back. "Trust me. I'm connected to nature, remember? I feel when the sun hasn't risen yet."

Vastarael raised an eyebrow and leaned back on one elbow, looking around the still-sapphire-encased bedroom.

"Seriously? It's been… what, two days?"

Her silence was telling.

"Seriously? Two entire days? We've been…?"

"Mmhm."

He blew out a long, exaggerated breath and ran a hand down his face, still smiling.

"We were supposed to leave the Western City yesterday…"

"Uh huh."

"…but maybe that city's still too chaotic."

"Guess we had an excuse," she said, stretching under the covers, her voice curling with sly satisfaction.

He looked over at her again, all softness now.

"I'm happy though."

She glanced over, surprised at the sincerity bleeding into his tone.

"Yeah?"

He nodded, his voice as gentle as his fingers that reached over and pushed back her hair.

"What now, though?"

He smiled faintly and asked back, "You tell me. What do you want me to do?"

Her brows furrowed. "What…?"

"I'm serious," he said, shifting fully so he was lying on his side, his hand still gently tucked behind her ear.

"I… I don't know much about what women really want in a relationship. Honestly. All I know is… I want to treasure you, love you, take care of you, how you that you mean something every single time I look at you."

He shrugged slightly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That's all I know. That's all I have."

Elyonari didn't answer because she couldn't. Her chest tightened so suddenly she felt like she'd been punched with affection.

The way he said it so innocently, so honestly, like he had no clue how sweet he was being. He had that kind of pure-hearted devotion didn't have the power to break her.

And gods, did it break her.

She pushed forward, eyes wide and shimmering, and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face into the crook of his shoulder. The sheets slipped down slightly, revealing the soft lines of her back and the glowing shimmer in her emerald eyes. Her heart was racing, thudding like war drums against her ribs as if trying to break through and fuse itself to him.

He was cold with no heartbeat. He had a stillness under his skin that would unsettle most. But not her. Not when he held her like that. Not when he spoke like that. Not when love felt this tangible.

She clung to him tighter, nails slightly digging into his shoulder, face flushed and pressed against his neck, trying so hard not to cry or laugh or squeal all over again. He didn't even know what he was doing to her, with those words, that tone and especially that face.

He shifted slightly, noticing how quiet she got, and chuckled softly.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No," she mumbled into his neck.

"Then why are you clinging to me like you're trying to steal my soul?"

She gripped tighter.

"Oh no," he said dramatically. "She's absorbing me. This is it. This is how I die. Death by cuddles."

Elyonari let out a muffled laugh that vibrated against his skin.

"You deserve it."

"I'm okay with this fate, honestly. Who wouldn't want to be hugged to death by a hot seductive elf divine princess?"

They stayed tangled together for a while, the silence wrapping around them like a warm cocoon, their breaths mingling, her heartbeat filling the empty silence he couldn't create himself.

Then, Vastarael sighed, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"…I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to handle you and Adelasta… and maybe even Phaenora. But I'll try my best. Father did tell me it was possible. He did have three wives after all."

Elyonari blinked and looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"Seriously?"

"He gave me advice, too. Told me the key is to never let any of you feel neglected. And never take sides when you argue."

Elyonari snorted. "He's smart."

"But," Vastarael added thoughtfully, "he also warned me I might be taken advantage of if I wasn't careful."

"Yeah," Elyonari giggled, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "He definitely knew what he was talking about."

She pulled back, a playful sparkle in her eyes.

"I solemnly swear not to sleep with you unless I ask for your permission."

He blinked. "Huh?"

"It's a promise," she said, raising her pinky.

"…That's not how this works."

"It is now."

Vastarael looked at her, then down at her raised pinky.

He laughed, pressing his forehead against hers.

"Alright. Fine. But you're gonna have to remind me when I ask you to jump me."

She gave him the cheekiest grin. "Deal."

Their hands locked together, fingers entwined, pinkies hooked and sealed by an invisible vow that was as ridiculous as it was intimate.

She looked at him, and he looked back and in that moment, everything outside the sapphire walls, the chaos of the city, the fate of the realms, the weight of duty and battle and blood, none of it mattered.

"Want to go for another round?"

"You're a pervert, Ely."

"Oh don't act so innocent Prince of Beauty. You want it as much as I do. And also, you can use Body Reconstruction on me, right?"

He sighed as he brought her closer to him.

"Well then, hope you don't regret your words."

"I'll never do that with you around."