northern lights, neon skies, just you and I

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Flora braces her hip against the wheel, the wood humming beneath her palms as the Sugartide cuts a clean line through the last molten streaks of sunset. Halo’s horizon is all gold and glacier-blue, the sky stretched thin and luminous as if the sun is reluctantly being pulled under by invisible fingers. The air is sharp enough to kiss, cold enough to sting, and she tucks her chin deeper into the oversized collar of her ridiculous-and-perfect winter coat—pale ivory wool trimmed with fluffy faux frost fox fur—cinched at the waist with a braided gold cord that makes her look like someone preparing for a holiday romance montage rather than an arctic flight.

Her curls are bundled in a loose, messy knot beneath a soft knitted hat she impulse-bought the moment she saw it ("Kai, it has tiny pom-poms, I need it!"), and every time the ship shifts she feels the pom-poms bob like excited punctuation above her head. A matching scarf is looped twice around her neck and tucked into her coat, trapping warmth and the faint scent of the peppermint bark she may or may not have been snacking on while setting their course.

The Sugartide herself feels different tonight, heavier in the best possible way. Every storage compartment is crammed full of what she and Kai scavenged in the markets: jars of Halo marshmallows the size of fists, boxes of candied nuts rolled in cinnamon-snow, glossy chocolate sticks meant for stirring into milk, and enough pastries to theoretically feed an entire sled team. Blankets are folded in neat stacks. Candles are tucked into a basket by the mast. Someone (her) insisted on lanterns with glittering blue glass because they “felt aurora-adjacent,” and someone else (him) pretended not to smile about it.

The wind snaps at her coat as she shifts the wheel, steadying their course. Her breath steams silver into the air. Her aqua eyes catch the frost glow rising off the snowfields below. Everything feels on the brink of magic, like the world is inhaling before revealing something impossible.

She leans sideways toward the stairwell that leads below deck, raising her voice just enough to carry through the cold. "Kaiiiiii? Do you need any help with the hot chocolate?" The question curls into the gathering twilight, warm and teasing and threaded with the kind of domestic affection that still hits her right in the ribs every time. She cups a hand around her mouth, grinning into the wind. "Because if you’re drowning in marshmallows again, I’m legally obligated to give you mouth-to-mouth. We agreed on that in Haulani."

The sun sinks lower, a thin spill of gold across the ice. Flora breathes it in, feeling the warmth of the ship under her feet, the cold of the wind on her cheeks, and the bright, fizzy ache of anticipation blooming behind her ribs.

Tonight is theirs, and it's a long time coming.

and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

Need a hundred lifetimes kinda love

"Nooo00000000000o!" he hollers back, the sound thundering up the narrow steps and hallway that lead from her deck to the kitchenette where he's doctoring up the latest batch of cocoa. Spice is supervising from the shelf above him, deeply judgmental about the amount of whipped cream and marshmallows he's using, which is just fine by him because what was he thinking before her corrections? Absolutely he needs to add more to meet the levels of her satisfaction. He does also send a dollop of the cream up her way, launching it from the placement on the back of his hand after slapping his wrist and knocking it up that direction for her to nab at—a mess he’d worry about later (aka completely forget about).

”Although, you can always give me mouth to mouth!” he trumpets cheerfully as he rises up the steps with their drinks each in hand. It’s a cautionary affair that requires every ounce of his concentration and skill, balancing the possibly overfull and giant mugs in each hand and swaying with every abrupt tug and tilt of the wind in the sails. Piping hot liquid threatens to scald him with any mistake, not to mention lose precious cargo in the process, and mountains of cream tip in exaggerated fashion that doesn’t quite seem possible before he straightens them each out.

He can only catch a glimpse of her over the rim of the mugs, each one half the size of his head at least and filled with perfectly brewed hot chocolate that’s mixed with chocolate Baileys. Piled high on top is a sheet of marshmallows that are doing their best impression of melting icebergs, not that they’re noticeable beneath the spire of whipped cream that’s so solid steam has a difficult time carving an escape hole from below. Fudge has been drizzled overtop the cream, and a small application of colorful sugar-sprinkles ads a magical shimmer as the sunset light catches on it just so. A candy cane hangs of the edge as a stir-stick beginning to erode into the faintest hint of peppermint with each sip.

The breeze up here instantly grabs at the ends of his violet scarf, which is looped only once around his neck and trails in a pair of uneven lines off to one side, long enough to reach his knees. His tan coat is too heavy to do much more than let it’s fuzzy lining ruffle at the collar, the rest of it open over a knit sweater that depicts a repeating pattern of variously colored dragons in flight. On his head is a snug, green cap that has forgone pom-poms for the sake of two fabric frog-eyes jutting out from either side of the top in an exaggerated and rounded fashion.

Glancing up at her in all her fuzzy glory, the hat which she absolutely did need to buy merrily bouncing along with her, his focus breaks into a broad smile. ”They’re ready, but suuuuuper hot still, so be careful,” he warns her as he finishes the epic journey across the deck to her side. He places hers down near her while she continues to man the wheel like a woman completely at home in the front seat of adventure. He also puts his down for now, grabbing a fingerful of cream and reaching out to swipe her nose with it, if only to serve as a distraction to sneak in for a raspberry at her neck when she goes for the feint.

Kaisel

I could say forever, but forever ain't long enough

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Flora winces at the thundering nooo0000000o! echoing up the stairwell, the kind of sound that makes her shoulders rise toward her ears because nothing about it is reassuring in the slightest. Spice is already dispatched and enforcing quality control with the severity of a sentient measuring cup, so there is genuinely nothing else she can do except trust that Kaisel will not set the kitchenette on fire, drown himself in cream, or topple overboard in a marshmallow avalanche on his way up. All three remain very real possibilities, however.

The wheel hums under her palms as she keeps the Sugartide steady, and when his footsteps finally appear on the stairs she glances over, then immediately decides not to be a menace. Just one flick of the wheel would be enough to lurch the whole deck and send him swaying like a drunk deckhand, but the mugs in his hands look like art. Architectural marvels. Engineering feats. Entire dissertations in cocoa, so she behaves. For now.

Her grin brightens as he reaches her, and when he lifts that whipped-cream-laden finger with mischief in his eyes she lunges gently upward, catching his wrist in both mittened hands before it can reach her nose, turning his hand toward her mouth instead. The cream melts sweet and perfect on her tongue as she steals it right off his fingertip, her gaze wicked with triumph. His lips land at her neck in the next breath, warm and absurdly playful, and she dissolves into giggles that tumble like coins across the deck, teeth catching her lower lip as she tries to assert even a little dignity while his raspberry vibrates delight straight down her spine.

"Spice—close the purse!" she calls between giggles. The little dragon perks up, wings fluttering as she hops to the seashell-shaped bag hanging from its hook near the mast. One dainty nudge of the clasp and the enchanted wind inside cuts off; the Sugartide gives a soft, suspended shiver and settles obediently into stillness, floating in the icy air as if someone hit pause on the world.

Freed from the necessity of steering, Flora lets go of Kaisel’s wrist at last and reaches for her hot chocolate, tugging off one mitten with her teeth. It is even more obscene up close with mountains of whipped cream, fudge drizzles, a small blizzard of sprinkles. She dips her candy cane into the molten richness and gives it a languid stir, then lifts it to find it already half dissolved. A delighted sound escapes her as she pops it fully into her drink and then licks the peppermint sweetness from her fingers, one swipe at a time. "Mmmm," she hums indulgently, eyes pressing briefly closed to savour the tangy sweet flavour.

Glancing back to Kaisel, her aqua eyes brighten the way stars catch fire when the night finally drops, excitement pushing colour into her cheeks that has nothing to do with the cold as the Sugartide floats silent around them, the world held in that perfect breath between sunset and deep night. Flora leans in a little, unable to hide the fizzing joy sparking under her ribs. "I know we’re up here to see the auroras," she says, voice low and bubbling with anticipation, "and we will. But..." Her grin stretches, wild and secret and unbearably pleased with herself. "...I also have a surprise."

and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

Need a hundred lifetimes kinda love

He absolutely is not surprised by her quick wits, nor does he mind the altered route of his finger. The immediate encapsulation of her warm mouth around it is a welcome relief against the exterior chills, though it sends the slightest shiver through each nerve as her tongue is always apt to do. It's especially fine because it doesn't change the end result in the slightest, his raspberry landing in full force around the delightful sound of her laughter.

"I fucking love your laugh," he growls out with a sudden flare of cute aggression as he pulls back just enough to deliver a glare of adoration so fierce he could potentially harm her with it. He settles for merely sinking into the warm space beside her, wrist still held aloft, while his attention drifts over towards the dragon co-captain and their private NOS. Spice handles it all like a natural, not that he'd expect anything less, and he finds himself freed of his anti-booping restraints.

The sudden lack of motion combined with the stark desolation of an arctic sea is something that catches his breath immediately. Which is a lot easier to do, he thinks, when his breath can be seen like it is, so really it seems like the cold is just a cheater. There is a terrible and undeniable beauty to the crisp seascape around them, the bordering tundra appearing vacant from this distance, though he knows better. Life has carved itself dutifully into the harsh climate, and it's partly that wild inclination to thrive where nothing should that makes everything here so wonderfully spectacular. The visit feels like a glimpse at a world that shouldn't manage but does anyway, stubborn and splendid in the same stroke.

He is not normally captivated by a view, much preferring the hum of a place full of people, which to him is the best signifer of living. Struggling day in and day out, barely capturing a glimpse of something because so little can endure it, that doesn't seem like any kind of life to him, even if he can appreciate the way it soldiers on. Still, he takes a moment to appreciate where they've come, and he is more than happen to see what all the world has to offer when he's truthfully not been given much opportunity to until recently. There's no denying that Flora's strong spirit of adventure is part of her allure—seemingly undaunted by everything and always willing to find the best in anything. It's easier to admire the world the way she sees it, and it's always worthwhile to watch it light up her eyes.

Which, are currently bright and decidedly aimed at him right now. He's immediately cautious, because that look, oh he knows that look. She's fucking up to something. It might be less mischief than usual and more glee, but that almost feels like a new tactic, or a sign that she's upped her game somehow. "Uh huh..." he responds with visible doubt over her leading statements, leaning back like she herself might be what's about to detonate. With a grin that seems liable to swallow him, he reaches back for the sturdy brace of a rail, checking for an exit route, retracing his options in his mind rather than giving them away with a shift of his eyes.

Oh, she has a surprise, is it? "I'll bet," he says with the wariness of someone who has been unfairly tickled a time too many.

Kaisel

I could say forever, but forever ain't long enough

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Flora tries to keep her balance, but the look Kaisel gives her—that ridiculous, devastating glare of adoration—lands like a hand around her lungs, stealing all the breath she thought she had left. It isn’t even just the words, though gods, no one has ever loved the small, silly parts of her out loud the way Kaisel does. No one has ever said they loved her laugh like it was something worth treasuring, something worth grabbing both hands around and holding close to the chest.

Her cheeks bloom warm despite the cold, a bright flush that has nothing to do with the fading sun. "Well, it’s a good thing you make me laugh all the time then," she answers, grin tugging at the corners of her mouth with a soft sincerity threaded through the sass. And she means it, deeply, loudly, unquestionably. She has never laughed so much, so freely, so fully as she has in the few seasons she’s spent with him. The kind of laughter that loosens the knots in her ribs and makes the world feel easier to live in.

But then his wariness sharpens, and the sparkle of mischief in her expression expands like a sunrise breaking over snow. She tilts her chin up in a way that’s half challenge, half barely-contained delight, her brows lifting in exaggerated innocence that fools exactly no one. She nods vigorously when he leans back, as if confirming every suspicion he has ever had about her. Without breaking eye contact, she slips one hand into the pocket of her coat and draws out a tightly rolled scroll; parchment tied with simple twine and softly worn edges. Her smirk curves sweet and smug as she holds it out toward him with both hands, presenting it like a prize.

"Tadaaa!" She wiggles the scroll once for dramatic flair, waiting for him to take it. And when he does and unfurls the map, he'll see Halo’s skyline traced in pale ink, their rough location marked with a neat X. But the real treasure, the reason her eyes are glittering like she’s swallowing entire constellations, is the sweeping series of arcs and dotted lines that stretch across the page. Migratory paths of Starwhales.

"I bought it off this guy in Hualani," she says softly, unable to stop her smile from widening, "who said he'd tracked them all his life, and that tonight’s one of the peak migration windows." Whether or not it was just bullshit to extract an exorbitant sum of money for the queen was yet to be seen.

and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

Need a hundred lifetimes kinda love

The immediate lack of any reassurance from her is a definite tell. It doesn't tell him much, admittedly, not when she's just as liable to manufacture some ideas as she is to further enforce one's already there. Like a shark scenting blood in the water, Flora will always bite at the opportunity for dramatics, real or otherwise. In this case, he's unknowingly chummed the water, rousing her fin to the surface.

She reaches back into her pocket, and with all the tension of a police officer who sees the shape of a gun in ordinary objects, he watches her withdraw an extremely threatening...map. Oh.

His worry breaks instantly. He leans further forward off the rail, feeding into the risk of a trap to see this prize worthy of a tadaa. "What's this?" he wonders, plucking it from her hand with curiosity that's blown over all the potential risks without a care. It doesn't take long to puzzle it out, unrolling the scroll into the expanse of a map and marked paths, her explanation just behind the scan of his eyes over the paper.

Holding it unrolled between his two hands like an official proclamation about to be read off—hear ye, hear ye, Flora is the best—his gaze lifts over the top of the scroll to meet her. "What! Flo-ro, that's killer!!!" Excitement threads a hint of a laugh into the words, the sort born from joy too restless to wait to emerge after speaking. She never ceases to impress, always mindful of the smallest details that make the biggest difference in something.

His attention drops back to the page. He pivots faintly while holding it up more, spinning until he orients his view just right with the map's reading. Tracing a finger along the ink, he rests it along a line with a tap. "Okaaaaay, so we're about, here," he declares with another lift of his eyes over the page to her. "So according to this...you're amazing and we're gonna see some starwhales baby!" Releasing the bottom of the map so it rolls up like a tongue back into itself, he surges forward to squish her into a hug, mindful not to jostle the cocoa. The extra warmth from pressing against her is near instant, and with an exhale near her ear he murmurs, "I cannot believe you wanted to do this in Deepfrost."

Kaisel

I could say forever, but forever ain't long enough

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Flora holds her breath without meaning to, shoulders creeping upward in a subtle, nervous brace as Kaisel unrolls the map. Her eyes keep darting between his hands and his face, trying to read every twitch of expression, every crease at the corner of his mouth. A ridiculous part of her had worried that he might think it was silly, or too much. But then his excitement breaks across his features like sunlight spilling over storm clouds, and all the tension in her body drains out in one long, invisible sigh. Relief softens her shoulders, brightens her smile, warms her from the inside despite the air that’s cold enough to chill her lungs with every inhale. As he pivots and spins the map, trying to orient himself, she watches him with a crooked grin tugging at her lips.

And when he barrels toward her, Flora instinctively thrusts her mug out to one side like an offering to the gods of not-burning-her-fingers, but honestly? She’d happily sacrifice the entire masterpiece to be swept up by him like this. The warmth of his body hits her first, fast and familiar, and her breath stutters out in something dangerously close to a laugh-strangled sigh. Delight crackles through her like a sparkler lit at dusk, bright and fizzy and impossible to hide. The murmur at her ear steals a full shiver straight down her spine, blooming goosebumps under her sweater and jacket. She twists into him with that unconscious trust that only ever shows up around him now, chin brushing his shoulder lightly as her breath puffs white between them.

"Well," she says, shrugging like she hasn’t just melted into a warm puddle at the sound of his voice, "I just wanted to make sure we actually went." The softness threads in before she can stop it; it's not a wound, but an old ache that twinges when stirred. So many plans in her life had lived and died as promises whispered to the wind, intentions that dissolved long before they could ever become real. And this one...this one mattered. Enough that risking the freezing cold of Deepfrost had felt like a smaller fear than the thought of missing it with him entirely.

But the memory of that ache only lasts a breath. Because they are here. Above Halo. Chasing auroras and sky-whales and all the wild, impossible things she once thought she’d never get.

Flora blinks the melancholy away, letting a wicked grin unfurl across her face, bright and mischievous as starlight on snow. "Though to be fair," she adds, voice lowering with theatrical innocence, "I’m pretty sure we would’ve found ways to stay warm in Deepfrost." Her brows lift, daring him to argue that point. "But this is probably better." Then, tipping her head back to look up at him properly, her curiosity sparks again, a small flame fanned by the wind and the thrill of the coming night. "Have you ever seen starwhales before?"

and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

Need a hundred lifetimes kinda love

The teasing snaps into something more real as her quiet reasoning is offered into their pocket of warmth. He hears the small tremble of worry that builds the shadow of that statement, the reason she’d have risked frostbite just for reassurance. He’s been disappointed plenty of times himself, although maybe not the same extent she has, but it’s part of why he takes something like a promise as seriously as if you’re signing a contract with the universe. Word should be more binding than just something carelessly tossed out, and it’s part of what he loves about her. She means things when she says them, however outlandish her plans, he’s never doubted that she’d fulfill them. He never once worried that they wouldn’t be standing exactly here.

She doesn’t let the shade of the concern linger though, so he doesn’t chase after it, just tucks it away like something he might need to eradicate later. Instead, laughter rises up in a visible plume, curling like joy has always been as easy as a cup of cocoa steaming in the cold. ”I meeeeaaaaan, it is still chilly, so might need to explore more ways to stay warm yet.” Although it’s said with all the casual attention weather usually deserves, there’s no denying the sly undercurrent that absolutely answers her dare with a yes.

Glancing down at the sudden ignition of something fiercer in her, his ‘brow lifts in quiet expectation. The question hits him with a smile that could almost be considered guilty. He shakes his head faintly, stepping back with a long sigh to leave her embrace in order to claim his own mug of hot chocolate. ”In case you haven’t noticed yet, I’m a very sheltered city boy. So most of the time when you ask, ‘have you…’, my answer will be no.” There’s a touch of disappointment to the look he grants the mountain of whipped cream before he takes a cautious sip.

Soldiering had been one of the few jobs he could take up under his parents that would get him out of the city, but with his family also woven into the same career, and much higher ranking, they’d had the pull to keep him stationed in Stormbreak almost always. Only the threat of the Family, and finally being old enough, had loosened some of those restraints enough to make further patrols more reasonable for them. It’d still been worth it over becoming a cook or something that would have had no good reason to leave the city. ”I want to see everything though,” he reassures, nose tipped with cream and wrinkling against the feel as he swallows the piping hot sugar with only the faintest hint of burning his tongue. ”Especially with you.” Cheesy, he knows, and his smile says as such as he tries to reach with his tongue to get the cream. Cheese doesn’t make it less true though. ”I feel like I could take on the whole world with you.”

Kaisel

I could say forever, but forever ain't long enough

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Flora’s teeth catch gently at her lower lip, partly to tame the grin threatening to spill across her whole face, partly because Kaisel’s warmth—his voice, his certainty, his casual tease of improvised heat—all of it coils through her with a bright, fluttery rush she still hasn’t learned how to manage gracefully. She lifts one shoulder in a slow, teasing shrug, aqua eyes glimmering up at him with barely contained delight. "Well," she says, tone lilting into flirtation with almost musical ease, "if you start getting chilly, you should definitely let me know. I’m sure I can...do something about it."

Near her elbow, Spice gives a theatrical huff, exhaling a tiny plume of frost that curls in the air like the world’s shadiest judgmental cloud. Flora shoots the little dragon a scandalized look over the rim of her cocoa. "We're not all cold blooded like you," she mutters, though her laughter warms her voice.

When Kaisel steps away to fetch his own mug, the brief loss of his heat makes the cold nip sharper at the edges, but she pulls her drink close, wrapping her hands around it—one mittened, one bare—until the warmth seeps through her fingers. She catches the faint drop in his tone, the small tug of something quieter beneath his words, and it sparks something protective and tender in her chest. "Oh, but that’s great," she says, smile blooming wider and richer, as if she can flood light over anything that darkened him even slightly. "It means there are so many firsts we get to experience together."

For a moment she just...looks at him. Really looks. Letting her gaze trace the urve of his cheek, the way sunset light catches in the brown of his eyes, the way steam drifting from their mugs curls into his hair. There’s a fullness in her chest that almost aches with how much she feels for him in a way that's messy, dazzling, and fiercely soft. Words could never catch all of it, but it spills quietly into her expression anyway, bright and sure.

The whipped cream on his nose does not help her composure.

Her smile tilts crookedly just as Spice decides to intervene. With a delighted chirp, the white dragon swoops up to Kaisel’s shoulder, her long neck curving elegantly as she leans forward and gives one decisive swipe of her little pink tongue right across the cream dotting the tip of his nose. Flora dissolves into laughter, the sound bubbling up warm and quick and utterly helpless. "Honestly," she manages between giggles, "if she hadn’t done it, I was about to."

Her mittened hand presses lightly to her chest as she tucks herself back against the wheel, still grinning at the sight of him; frog-eyed hat, dragon helper, cocoa moustache and all. "Me too," she says softly, answering the sentiment beneath his words with all the sincerity he deserves.

Then her gaze lifts to the deepening dusk, where the sky is darkening into that expectant blue right before the first colours of the aurora bloom. "Though hopefully," she adds with a little laugh, "we get to just enjoy the world together, you know? Rather than take it on."

and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

Need a hundred lifetimes kinda love

He will definitely be telling her when he gets cold. In fact, he might have to forgo his hot cocoa, just to ensure he doesn't get too cozy. Although he does want to see the whales. Maybe a sudden chill will stir from their flukes as they pass overhead. Sounds like a good story, believable even, not that he thinks that really matters, but it couldn't hurt. Could really ramp it up and bribe Spice for a few frosty breaths at the right time.

Reclaiming his cocoa, he can't help but be a touch skeptical about her eager reassurance. You don't normally get the response of oh that's great to being a virgin, in all the sense of the word that he still is, least of all for guys. Not that he thinks she's lying about it, but he does think she's turned it on specifically to assuage the doubts he didn't mean to just throw out there, not when she's working hard to make everything else perfect. "Yeah, but it's no fun if it's just my firsts," he pushes back, one 'brow cocking with challenge that she'd actually enjoy running around just watching him discover things she already knew. "Like, haven't you already seen starwhales?" He's still here, happy to do this with her, but he's unsure how often she's really going to want to run down a checklist she's already crossed off. She seemed excited about this one, and that made it easy not to let this worry crowd the moment, or it had, until now. He'll keep showing up for the moments as long as it's what she wants to do, he just doesn't want her to pretend for his sake.

Although, the look she's giving him right now is one that creeps slow and sure, moving into something so full and soft it reaches in past the lingering doubts and gives him a slap. Kind, but firm. A reminder that she doesn't just make him glow, but the same could also be said in reverse.

The distraction of the whipped cream is enough to keep him from pressing about the look with a bashful what? Still attempting to get it himself, Spice's trill of assistance is the only lead he gets before she's joined him like the most stunning necklace imaginable. With expert precision that isn't the least bit surprising, she removes the offending whipped cream dollop like his personal savior. His nose wriggles back and forth for a moment after, grin growing against the scrunch of it, racing even faster the moment the sound of Flora's laughter rouses. "Glad to know if I ever have a dessert emergency again I have two heroes I can depend on," and it's spoken with all the assurance that he is definitely someone who's had more than one dessert emergency in his life. He's even of the mind to dip his nose in again, just to give Flora the chance now.

Settling in beside her with his own cup clutched like a heatpack between his hands, Kaisel offers a large finger swipe of whipped cream to Spice while he peers out in readiness at the darkening horizon. "That's a nice revision," he admits with a smile that grows softer on the edges, especially as his gaze is tossed from the sky towards her. He doesn't let his attention stray longer, eager to see the world flick on this special nightlight. "Although if I know the world, it's going to be a bit of both." They might have to make enjoyment out of the wrestling moves they'll unleash on life. He'd gladly hold some peas up to her black eyes though if she'd do the same.

Sipping loudly, trying to pull in enough air to ensure the chocolate doesn't bite back on the way down, he regards the opening scene of twilight (no Bella in this one). "So why does the sky do the auroras, do you know?" He feels like he'd learned it once and promptly forgot it, along with all the fancy names for the different types of clouds. "And why do starwhales like it where it's cold as balls?"

Kaisel

I could say forever, but forever ain't long enough

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Flora’s breath gathers in her chest in a soft swell, ready with a familiar rebuttal, the playful volley they toss back and forth so easily—it isn’t just your firsts, it’s ours—poised on her tongue. But the instant Kaisel asks if she’s already seen starwhales, the air inside her tilts, shifts and cools. Her smile falters at the edges, the light dimming like petals curling inward when the sun slips behind a cloud. She has seen them, but just once. With Jack.

The memory rises like a shard of glass under skin; something beautiful that hurts when touched. The sky full of drifting constellations, their massive forms gliding through the darkness like living galaxies, and she’d stood on a deck not so different from this one, feeling wonder bloom in her bones. But she’d also felt a strange loneliness that came with being treated like an accessory, a date chosen because the moment benefited the Captain. It was one of the only times he’d taken her out with intention, one of the few pieces of their history that hadn’t immediately tarnished in retrospect, and tonight the shine dulls just enough to leave her hollow in a way the brisk wind cannot explain.

It keeps her cold in a way that doesn't have her seeking out Kaisel's warmth—not his arms or his cocoa-sweetened breath at her ear—but instead has her wanting to fold in on herself, to retreat to somewhere dark and silent because if you're going to be haunted by ghosts, there was no where more fitting. There’s a whisper of shame, thin and sharp that rises in the back of her mind: if boys don’t want to be virgins, girls don’t want to be used up, and while she knows Kaisel didn’t mean it that way—he had only asked a question—her mind twists it cruelly all the same. What if he finds out she’s done too much, lived too much, ruined the shine of discovery before he ever gets there? What if the world with her isn’t new, just borrowed?

The instinct to lie flickers in her chest like a candle caught in a sudden draft, offering her an easy escape from the heaviness blooming under her ribs, but the idea collapses almost immediately under the weight of who he is to her. She forces the brightness of her smile back into place, soft and steady even as it strains at the corners, and with a small shrug that tries to turn the truth light and inconsequential. "Only once," she says, brushing the words out like loose snow from her sleeves. She wants him to see only this moment and not the old one that she is desperately trying to keep from bleeding through the edges of her expression, so she lifts her hot chocolate closer to her chest and lets the warmth of it seep into the bare hand curled around the mug while she turns her face toward the deepening sky.

Flora wants to experience everything again with Kaisel, because with him the world feels new. It feels wide open, bright, possible. It feels like the world she should have had all along, but now doubts gnaw in the shadows between heartbeats: What if this was a mistake? What if he thinks shared joy is somehow lesser? What if her past, instead of making fresh moments richer, only makes them secondhand? Spice, perceptive in the strange, uncanny way dragons seem to be, gives a soft chirp of warning on Kaisel’s shoulder. Not at him, not against him, but for him; the way a dog might alert when someone was about to feint. A tap of her tiny head against his jaw before she hops off and glides toward the bow to give them space.

As Kaisel’s voice drifts toward her, asking about auroras, Flora clings to the question like a rope thrown across fast water. Her gaze lifts toward the sky, where dusk is deepening, colours beginning to gather like breath before a sigh. "I always thought..." she begins, her voice quieter but steady, "...that they were like the snow version of rainbows." She hums under her breath, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as she watches the first faint shimmer of green unfurl far in the corners of the horizon. "Like when light hits rain just right and makes colours, maybe this is just what happens when it goes through snow?" And beneath her attempt at explanation, beneath the playful softness, a quiet hope threads through her chest that the night sky might take over the conversation long enough for the ache inside her to settle, or maybe for him to notice the way her brightness flickered.

and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

Need a hundred lifetimes kinda love

The full impact of his words isn’t something he fully realizes at first. Not with his gaze decidedly off Flora most of the time, wandering around the mountainous curves of whipped cream or off into darkening horizons, doing his best to struggle through his own feelings without plopping them all down into a moment that deserves so much better than his silly fears of inadequacy. It’s something he’s always had a bit of a battle with, but he can usually lacquer over it with the distracting antics of a jester or a proud strut that hides the uncertainty beneath peacock feathers. It’s easy to slip out of usual barriers with her though, so it rears up in unwelcome moments.

Especially with her, for her, he wants to be better—the best. She deserves nothing less, and he hates the thought of giving her something inferior. He doesn’t want to force her down to his level, repeating accomplishments just because he lacks them. He wants to rise up to where she sits, accomplished and capable.

Her affections have proven to be more of a double-edged sword than he ever could have guessed. While simultaneously she’s reassured him, either in voice, action, or purely over time—sometimes on purpose, sometimes just by being—it’s also made the desire to never lose that something that tightens around his fears until they’re sharp with worry. Usually, he can file them down with some sense, a spar, or a plan to dote on her until she’s shining bright enough to clear out any lingering shadows that had tried to take the shape of monsters. Occasionally, the points poke through and make their way out, posing a needle for either of them to get pricked by.

It’s the abrupt and unusual chirp from Spice that draws his attention back to the direct surroundings, distant gaze angling down at the white dragon. Her meaningful bump comes on the heels of her cry, and he watches her departure with no hidden measure of curiosity. Sorting out the meaning still as he makes idle comments, he gradually becomes aware that Flora isn’t responding to them as she normally would, which is to say at all.

Though she’s uncurled more from just breaths earlier, the dimming to her is apparent, and the clever dragon’s meaning finally settles with a quiet exhale of understanding and regret. Shifting in closer to her, he slides one hand around her back, bare hand curling into one of her coat pockets for safekeeping. Pressing his chest against her back, his chin settles on her shoulder, cocoa hand fitting in near hers. It’s a quiet, careful winding around her space and heat, the sort of unspoken trade of reassurance, offering it as much as asking for it. Whenever words or feelings have gotten too big, it’s always been easy to come back to certainty in her embrace, even if it’s nothing but the faintest point of contact.

[sayt]”Mmm,” he considers with a low hum, gaze flicking past her curls to the neon green snake emerging in the dusky fields of sky. ”A snow rainbow seems very fitting,” he admits, the smallest hint of a smile in his words as his lips curl up with the branding he’s certain hadn’t existed before now. ”Wouldn’t that make it a snowbow?” There’s also no sun to scatter the lights they’re seeing, but maybe the snow charged up all day and is bouncing it back? Maybe it’s better not to entirely understand it, the way a magician’s tricks become a disappointment once you catch onto the slight of hand or the shuffle behind the curtain. Kaisel is firmly of the belief of some ignorance being worth the magic it provides, because the world can always use a bit more sparkle and fairydust to it.

”And what of the starwhales, then?” he coaxes her answer for his other question. ”Maybe they just like the snowbows too,” he suggests, realizing with a slight widening of his eyes as the aurora continues to unfurl into full splendor that there is some value to the frost if it can deliver carefully created moments like this.

Kaisel

I could say forever, but forever ain't long enough

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

i stg this was meant to be short

The moment Kaisel eases in behind her, warmth gathering around her in a quiet, deliberate encirclement, Flora feels something inside her lift with soft, shimmering buoyancy, as if he has poured a little effervescent light straight beneath her ribs and chased out everything that had threatened to hollow her moments ago. His chin settles on her shoulder with the kind of tenderness that never demands attention but always gives it, his hand sliding into her pocket like it belongs there, his chest solid and steady against her back, and the world seems to tilt back into place with a certainty she can feel rather than articulate. She tilts her head just enough for her cheek to brush his, the fabric of her scarf whispering between them, and even if he cannot see the shape of her smile, he likely feel the way it curves and softens against him as she slips her hand over his within her pocket, fingers curling instinctively around his warmth.

Gods, she loves him. Not in the loud, starburst way she sometimes jokes about but in a deep, tidal pull that sweeps through her bones and settles into every piece of her, something as steady as breath and as bright as any aurora unfurling across the Halo sky. She can almost laugh at herself for fearing anything only a moment ago because the truth of him pressed against her is more powerful than whatever ghosts tried to climb out of the past.

When he murmurs that snowbow with a crooked curl of humour, she lets out a soft hum that vibrates through both of them, shrugging back into him with an innocent roll of her shoulders that is absolutely not innocent at all but simply an excuse to feel more of him. "Maybe snowbow is the real name," she replies, voice warm and playful and threaded through with the renewed brightness he coaxes out of her with such effortless grace, even as she acknowledges privately that her theory is probably nonsense. Please tell me you do know that snowbows are real.

Kai's question about the starwhales unfurls another smile across her lips. "Maaaaybe," she says in the sort of drifting tease that feels like the sparkle of frost catching on lamplight, "or maybe they don’t even feel the cold. The deep ocean gets freezing too and whales down there are totally fine."

Flora twists carefully within the circle of his arms, not enough to break the press of him behind her but enough to catch him out of the corner of her eye, the softness of dusk painting his features in colours that make her heart tighten almost painfully. The frog-eyed hat perched on his head and the faint smear of whipped cream Spice didn’t quite get, the way wonder lifts his expression as he watches the sky, all of it hits her like a wave, sudden and enormous and full of affection so fierce it momentarily steals her breath. There is no part of him she could look at tonight and not feel overwhelmed by the sheer immensity of loving him. "Hey," she murmurs, voice threaded with that bright spark that had dimmed and now burns beautifully again, "guess what?"

Before he can answer, she inhales slowly past the catch in her throat and lets the truth pour out with all its impossible fullness. "I have never, ever been flying on my own skyship, the one I had to get for myself and live on because some alien monster threatened to kill me if I went back home, with someone I love more than anything in the world, on an adventure to chase down starwhales while auroras, and snowbows, light up the sky around us."

Flora holds the truth of this close, letting it expand inside her until it presses against the old ache that had flared moments earlier, and as it stretches, it reveals itself with a clarity so undeniable that it almost startles her. Even though she has seen starwhales before, that memory belongs to a life she no longer inhabits, one where she had stood on someone else's ship, following someone else's plan, participating in a wonder that had never truly been offered to her but rather used as something polished and transactional, a gesture Jack could pull from his pocket when it suited him. He had not loved her then and she had not loved him either.

Here, wrapped in Kaisel’s warmth as the auroras climb over the curvature of the world and the Sugartide floats on currents she controls, everything expands into something entirely new. This is her ship, reclaimed from fear and threat and carved into freedom with her own hands; this is her sky, wide and wild and luminous; this is her adventure, chosen deliberately rather than stumbled into; and this is the man she loves more than she has ever allowed herself to love anything, standing behind her with a kind of devotion so genuine it makes the air around them feel electric. The starwhales, when they appear, will not be a repetition but a rebirth, shaped by the truth of who she is now and who she is with him. Because of him. For all of her earlier melancholy, the realization settles through her with a steady, warming glow: this night is new in every way that matters, untouched by any shadow of the past, made extraordinary simply because it is shared with him.

and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

Need a hundred lifetimes kinda love

It's the subtle softening of her around him that eases some of the worry tightening in his chest. The slight manner in which she leans back, the way her fingers melt into the spaces between his, the faint kiss of her cheek over her scarf as a smile pushes past the fabric—it's all unspoken, but it's loud with promise. No matter the dark and the cold that threatens, they'll always reach out for one another, fitting themselves as best they can into those abysmal corners like nightlights braving the shadows. It's the acceptance, the return, the attempt of it all, that delivers enough shiny warmth to quell even the worst of the world. He's never been able to hold his hand out and know with certainty it'd be claimed, not until her.

Trying to leave every doubt into the seams of her pocket, like lint she could gather and fold away, his own smile breaks in easier around the silly ideas of snowy rainbows stretching out as neon bands in the night sky. Like Kaisel I dunno shit about snow places and their funny weather. "Aurora is their real name, Snowbow is their father's name nickname," he declares with a warm puff of breath rolling over the curve of her shoulder. The usual lilt to her voice returns, all of its earlier carefulness replaced with that easy shimmer he so adores, the sound of her happy and content like gold flecks scattered through every moment she touches, warming them into something dazzling without even trying.

His attention drifts up, as if expecting the mere mention of the living constellations would summon them into place. "Hmm, you have a point," he murmurs with the sort of dreamy absence of thought, already losing himself to this moment, wrapped in her warmth and captured by the lights weaving through the sky like a cosmic stitch. "I wonder what's colder, deep sea or space?" The whales would probably know.

He lifts himself from the gradual slumping of his posture against her as she begins to turn. He doesn't withdraw, just straightens, arms popping out to give her the room and the freedom to twist. Once she resettles, so does he, reclaiming any new space between them with a refusal to let it remain. His gaze has since dropped, catching on the peek of her face he can see from here. Her features are deep set with the shadowy haze of twilight, though the bold reflections of their adventure highlight some regions in quiet rebellion. Streaks of vibrantly colored light dance like something living across her, painting her with the full force of this moment's impossible beauty, as much in image as feeling. It pulls his breath in, careful not to disturb this for as long as he can, preserving her exactly as she is right now. He tucks it away in his chest with all the other ones she’s given him, wondering how it keeps making room for more.

Chicken butt, he's poised to say in response, the edge of a wind-wild grin already creeping in, but she doesn't give him the room, and thank the gods for that. Every word strikes him with the same gentle cleansing of raindrops, washing away the silliness that stretches in his smile. It doesn't strip his happiness, but seeps under the top layer of it, allowing something full and honest to emerge. What she says soaks down into the worries he’d folded up and set aside. They don't break, but soften until they're so thin there’s nothing left to hold onto beneath the warm drizzle of her certainty. For a heartbeat, he just stays there behind her, breath stalled somewhere between his ribs, the world oddly quiet despite the sharp breeze of the Tundra skies and the snap of sails. Then it lets go all at once.

A laugh breaks free, the sound not joyful so much as a release of exhausted relief, the hitch of his emotion bubbling up into something that can't take any other form when it's been completely smothered by her love. The gentle smile that sunk carefully and steadily into place behind her words now splits wide and unguarded, staying there like his face might never manage to fit anything less. He doesn't have the words to explain what she just did, so he doesn't bother trying. Instead he steps in, curling around from behind her to press a kiss so fierce with adoration his whole body flushes with the warmth of it. It’s clumsy in the small ways—an awkward angle, his whipped cream residue absolutely leaving a sticky trail on her skin, his lungs burning with the unprepared breath of it all—but none of that matters. All that exists is holding her and telling her in the only way that could possibly come close right now, just how much she means to him. Now, and always.

“Flora—gods,” he says with a soft chuckle of wonder as he tilts his head against her, pulling away just barely. He exhales quiet and awed, visible breath mingling in the small space between them. “You're my favorite person." The laughter of being so knocked off balance by her perspective still lingers in the edges of his voice. “I love every chance I get to be with you, and I can't wait to experience everything we can together. Even if it's a hundred first times seeing starwhales, on a dozen different skyships, in thousands of different skys.” He says it simple and certain, like the truth has finally found the easiest way out of him. The happiness that follows isn’t big, despite the fact it fills all of him. It just settles, bright and unmistakable, filling the space her words cleared until there’s nothing left but the two of them and the promise of everything still waiting to be seen, because it will all be theirs.

He does take a moment to tip his head back though, immeasurably smug as he calls out across the deck to Spice. "She said she loves me more than you!"

Kaisel

I could say forever, but forever ain't long enough