RONIN
the white knight
"The triangle," Ronin breathes, theatrically enamoured with the idea. "Of course. I could switch it up during your harmonica solo and give everyone the best of both worlds." Neither might be worlds where their audience wishes to stay voluntarily, but that, of course, is none of the Knight's concern. Surrendering the shrimp to Remi's teeth and grabbing one for himself, he hums his fervent agreement.
"Hear hear to that," he agrees. "Maybe we can go and catch shrimp in the Northaven after Longnight, make a little business out of it." A business that will of course fail, because the Taliesins are liable to eat all of their stock if it tastes anything like what's in the basket on the table between them.
He's licking his fingers when the Bastion suddenly snags his other hand, and Ronin feels it before the other man says anything at all; a warm and golden cascade of gratitude, like a gentle wave cresting the sand and tickling over his feet. Finding himself smiling long before Remi's true thanks hits the air, he squeezes his fingers, basking in the rich light from the sun's last rays and marvelling at how green it makes Remi's eyes look.
"Thank you," he replies, voice soft and low. "If someone had told me this is what my life would look like back in Northaven, I'd never have believed I could be so lucky." He grabs his cocktail and raises it in another toast, this one entirely sincere. "Here's to being happier than we ever thought possible."
"Hear hear to that," he agrees. "Maybe we can go and catch shrimp in the Northaven after Longnight, make a little business out of it." A business that will of course fail, because the Taliesins are liable to eat all of their stock if it tastes anything like what's in the basket on the table between them.
He's licking his fingers when the Bastion suddenly snags his other hand, and Ronin feels it before the other man says anything at all; a warm and golden cascade of gratitude, like a gentle wave cresting the sand and tickling over his feet. Finding himself smiling long before Remi's true thanks hits the air, he squeezes his fingers, basking in the rich light from the sun's last rays and marvelling at how green it makes Remi's eyes look.
"Thank you," he replies, voice soft and low. "If someone had told me this is what my life would look like back in Northaven, I'd never have believed I could be so lucky." He grabs his cocktail and raises it in another toast, this one entirely sincere. "Here's to being happier than we ever thought possible."
