Welcome to Gaia! ::

I'm home. Come and meet me at the park.

Lorne had texted her; Mont Blonc had written her. He didn't know who would get the message first, Nadia or Methone. Either way, it was the knight that would await her, standing beneath the lights that illuminated the walkway and still trying to adjust to the subtle violet glow that danced at the edges of his vision every way he turned - just as he had to adjust to the added weight of a staff in his hands, not a pen in his pocket.

His hands were quivering, but in a rare turn, it was adrenaline, anticipation that spurred it on rather than nerves. It had been a matter of days, but so much had happened - so much had become clear, changed, grown. He certainly wasn't the same man he'd been this time last year, but more than that, he didn't even feel like the same man he'd been when he'd left.

He thought it was a good thing; he just hoped she did, too.

Either way, he needed her. He'd never so desperately needed to see her as he did then.

He sensed her before her saw her, and for a moment the knight shut his eyes, drinking in the sensation of Methone - before he faced her, and long before she made it to his arms, he'd already dropped his new staff, arms extended, feeling as though he hadn't seen her in a lifetime.

Something like that - seeing with new eyes. Perspective was everything, and with that, so was she.

This time, when she tackled him, he didn't fall. He wrapped her up tight, arms around her waist, and he laughed hard as she kissed him everywhere, laughed in elated relief. "I am - I am!" And that meant no more close calls. No more stolen starseeds. No more near-corruptions. He wouldn't be a burden to his girlfriend anymore, or to anyone.

Then the laughter died, and he tilted his head to kiss her, deeply and passionately with none of the hesitation or sheepishness he would've before. It didn't matter where they were - all that mattered was he was here and so was she, Methone, his Methone.

When he broke away, he whispered lowly against her lips, "We need to go back. I have something I need to show you."

"Good to know, " he remarked to himself, and then, finally, he blushed because his mind immediately went to the dirtiest possible thing. Ahem.

Immediately, he mourned the loss of her, although he was as quick to claim her hand as his staff, his fingers winding warmly around her smaller ones. Now that he had her, knowing, he honestly didn't want to let go of her. "I think the tip still is a pen, yes, " he remarked, tilting his head to the side and laughing again. "Although I don't know how... useful that would actually be. Much less practical for notes."

His heart was pounding painfully loud, not from nerves, but raw anticipation. - okay, maybe a little bit nerves - but mostly the other thing. There was just so much to do and see and say and - "Hold onto me, " and it wasn't as though she really needed a warning, but he gave it regardless, and in moments, there they were again, standing beneath the snow-like ash of his mountain, staring down the entrance.

Nothing about it scared him anymore, though, and it showed in everything from the way he held his shoulders down to his ever-expressive yellow eyes. - there was something heavy there, yes, but it wasn't fear. If anything, he smiled as he moved to walk, coaxing Methone to move with him. "I completely misunderstood this place - everything about it."

God she was too cute. He couldn't stop laughing, and it came a lot easier - clearer, somehow. Like he'd been somehow embarrassed by the volume of his own voice before. "And I love that you go along with it, " he countered, grinning impossibly wide.

"I thought this was a place of death, " the knight explained as he led his lover through the massive dog themed doors down into the underbelly of his wonder, all those varied, candle lit halls branching off into untold numbers of rooms. Most of them would contain books, endless tomes of names. Mont Blonc no longer crept with trepidation, but walked with purpose. "A place of ghosts and horror and fear. But I was blind."

He squeezed his hand as he smiled at her. "This is a place of death, yes. People died here. - but they found peace here. They were freed from the ties that bound them to a life of suffering. Their restless souls found a home here when they had none, and they were remembered here when they weren't anywhere else. And I - "

Mont Blonc paused, looking for the right words. "Alphonse, the man I was before. I still honestly don't know whether to say 'me' or 'him', I got a little jumbled, " he admitted, laughing a bit sheepishly. "He took it one step further. I think he was inspired by you, a little. The you before, I mean. - Mont Blonc was supposed to maintain a distance, to be an observer, a record keeper, but Alphonse, I - he, " he kind of huffed lightly as he spoke. "He chose to be there. He stayed by them in their final moments, as many of these people as he could. I remember, and - god, what a beautiful thing to do, I - "

He laughed again, sheepish and giddy at once. He was talking a lot; for once, he didn't care. It didn't feel like too much at all. "I've never been a warrior. But this is - I think this is something I can do - I'd be proud to, I think, I - "

God, he was losing sight of the real goal here. "Here, we're almost here."

“Pix, “ he breathed out after she said it, feeling a heavy pang in his chest. A shadow of an ache of a love never realized, except it had been. It had been, and would be, and would be honored in the truest way soon. “Yes, Pix. She made a really... really strong impact on Alphonse.” Maybe more than she knew. Maybe not.

The way she phrased it made him smile, and he leaned down to kiss her temple, squeezing her hand again. “You’re right, love - it is.” He straightened again, drawing a long, slow breath. “Alphonse fought that battle hard, and it took its toll. I - he became sick, somewhere alone the way.” He bit his bottom lip, and they drew closer to another set of doors adorned by the fierce protector of his mountain. His new clock hung heavy and comforting at his side where it belonged. The hound had come home. “The kind of sick you don’t come back from. So he pulled away from everything. Friends. Family. Everything but his duty, right up until the negaverse came. Well “ He paused. “Except for one thing.”

He pushed the doors open, and there it was: Alphonse’s studio, all his scribbles in charcoal spread out in every direction, all beautiful but harsh with bold, heavy lines.

Except for a splash of vibrant color. The only one. All in striking watercolors, the form of a woman caught unaware in the midst of her dance. His great final masterpiece, finished just before the end.

As she moved forward, Mont Blonc deliberately hung back. Not very far, but far enough. He watched from behind as she took in the reflection of herself from another life, and quietly, carefully, he dropped down onto one knee. He could not be there to take her hand: he hoped just this once he would forgive her, his heart thudding ever louder in his chest as he implored himself to say the words he needed to.

“Because it should have been yours a long time ago, “ he said. “It was meant for you - like I should have been.” His eyes burned, and he blinked furiously to keep them at bay. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Put myself into positions where I could have lost you. Almost did. I’m so sorry. I thought at the time I was being selfish - but I was just repeating the same mistakes of the past. I didn’t know.” But there was no denying the two years apart were as different as similar to Alphonse locking himself away in his wonder, for the ‘good’ of everyone. “I was so lonely. For most of my life, I was so lonely, and I never understood why. - but with you - “

He didn’t have a ring here besides the one embedded with the symbol of Saturn, his signet ring. But he offered it regardless, because it seemed a more than adequate placeholder. “I don’t care if it’s selfish anymore. We - we’ve earned it. I never want to be away from you again. - I want a life with you. I want a family with you. I want to fight with you. I - “ His eyes were bright and wet but he was valiantly pushing through, no matter how red his face got.

“Will you marry me, Nadia?”

She wanted all of it with him. All of it. Mont Blonc had never smiled the way he did in that moment, the first tears spilling over his cheeks - happy tears, like he was just so impossibly happy, it had to come out somewhere.

I will marry you if you marry me, and in the moment, that was the most impossibly beautiful thing he thought a person had ever said to him in any life time. Any that had been, any that would be, his face warm with tears and redness and her lips, pouring down into his heart where it pooled, seeping through his down to the tips of his fingers.

"I love you too, " he got out, and with his mouth open, delighted, airy laughter spilled out - another place for it to go. 'I love you' wasn't enough, but it was a start, and he leaned forward to catch her, sliding fingers into her hair, more laughter spilling out between their lips as he kissed her again and again.

Mont Blonc had not won many battles in this endless war, but this? - he would ensure a thousand more loses in blood for this one of the heart.