[SE] hearthlight

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

Danta doesn't expect to feel quite as relieved as he does, when he realises that Asta really is acting like his old self, even if a lot sleepier than usual. The Maverick smiles against his neck, fingers trickling up his chest to curl through his dark hair, his thumb brushing across his cheek. "You know, I didn't think you would," he purrs, before promptly falling silent and nuzzling in closer. It will be to the surprise of absolutely no one that Danta is out like a light in seconds, and he has no doubt that Asta won't be far behind.

There's no point asking how long they're out for this time; all Danta knows is that, at some point, he's shifted to lay down with the other man and has manoeuvred himself to curl around the butcher as if he's some kind of body pillow, head lolling against his chest. The fire has burned low, but the candlelights seem brighter around them (most likely because it's getting dark out), and the warmth is palpable in the air as he comes around.

Blinking himself awake with a soft smirk, he stretches in the nest of blankets before promptly curling himself back around his lover. "Fuck," he rumbles through a quiet laugh. "I think that was a lot more than a nap."

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //

— frozen grounds and leafless trees

“You know me so very well, darling.” The butcher’s purr is as sleepy as it is a sad attempt at being playful. It doesn’t take long at all with Danta’s hand on his face, stroking along his cheek and along his skin, that the butcher promptly falls asleep again. It’s a dreamless sleep, but one that his body seems to crave.

He too succumbs to the nest on the floor and it’s a miracle they haven’t spilled any of the tea or moved enough to set their blankets on fire. Though even if they had, it’s very unlikely that the butcher would even know. He’s toasty warm, content, and absolutely dead to the world as Danta wakes up and night seems to have settled in.

He only wakes with the way he curls back into him, his arms tightening subconsciously around him as he slowly tries to wake himself up again. “Is it already tomorrow?” He asks groggily, a hint of frustration if they had because of the sheer fact he still doesn’t feel like he’s slept enough. Though the frustration could be attributed to the rumble of his stomach to prove he very well could be just hangry.

Astaroth

the woods will haunt you like a frigid breeze —

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

"I don't... think so?" Danta's brow furrows as he considers Asta's question, hiding his smile at the rough grumpiness in the other man's tone. His own stomach rumbles in response, something he scoffs at, and with a pulse of power he draws the fire back to life to lend them a little more light. "How about you get some more tea brewing - or wine, if you can face getting up - and I'll go and find out what's happened with the day."

He squeezes Asta close first, of course, playfully nibbling at his collarbone as if that will sate him for now, before forcing himself to untangle from their fireside den. With his horns still glamoured, Danta has acquired quite the bedhead, his tail flicking at his heels as he crosses the room and plucks up the letter from earlier, before opening the door.

To his delight, a covered tray awaits them - undoubtedly the Dusklight staff have been up more than a few times to see if the Theocrat and his bodyguard are awake, and have opted to leave food that will keep should they emerge hungry. Carrying it back inside and clicking the door shut, he turns to Asta with a grin. "Well, I don't know what day it is, but I've got supper."

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //

— frozen grounds and leafless trees

Still particularly grumpy about the turn of events when it comes to them both not knowing – he does blink himself awake enough to glare at the window to see the darkness stretching out, the frost against the windows alongside the condensation from the ehat of the fire that’s slowly started to wink out. “I will try but I cannot make any promises.” Comes the quiet admission, the way he nuzzles in as Danta squeezes him and nips at his collarbones playfully.

It wipes away some of the grumpiness from awakening to let Danta part from him with a soft huff of a laugh before he’s pulling himself up back into a seating position, long legs crossing beneath him as the blankets pool around his waist. He leans forward, sparking more fire to bloom once Danta’s powerful boon has sparked enough light for them to see. He sluggishly readies the kettle and the tea again, adding honey to his and none for Danta’s cup before he seems to just slump where he’s sitting to watch the kettle come up to temp.

At least until the door clicks and it registers to him that Danta hasn’t completely left. He looks over his shoulder as he tugs the blanket slowly back up over his bare shoulders. “That is certainly a start.” He says with a soft laugh, brightening up to see the tray of food. Which he begins to adjust the blankets to make for a comfortable space for a makeshift picnic in front of the fireplace. "What did they bring us?"

Astaroth

the woods will haunt you like a frigid breeze —

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

Very proud to see that Asta has at least managed to get himself upright and is in the process of making them tea, Danta pads back over to him and settles the tray between them, plopping to sit back down beside the butcher. "I'm not sure, let's see..."

Reaching out to take off the tray cover, they'll be treated to a selection of crackers, cheeses and cured meats, as well as a wrapped loaf of bread and a pot of jam. Scattered amongst the rest are grapes, nuts and dried fruit, and Danta immediately reaches out to grab a cracker and a bit of cheese, as well as a couple of grapes.

"Gods," he mumbles, humming his appreciation for the morsel of food and slumping a bit against Asta as he drags a blanket across his lap. "I might not know what day it is, but I'm starving." Sitting back up to finish his bite, he finally produces the letter he'd retrieved. "Would you like to do the honours?" He flaps it at him.

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //

— frozen grounds and leafless trees

Feeling the weight shift as Danta comes back to sit beside him, the butcher sinks back into the pile of blankets to peer over at the tray. Once the cover is removed, he leans in toward the cured meats and the loaf of bread and jam that are a lovely addition. Blackberry jam, from the look of it, so while Danta snags a cracker and cheese, the butcher snags one of the slices of the loaves of bread – using the small knife in the tray to put some jam onto the slice.

Taking the first bite, Asta sighs quietly in relief, munching on it momentarily while the Maverick sinks against him and he winds an arm around him to keep him close and share his body heat – made easier with the blanket pulled across his lap. “I am too.” He admits in a tired tone, nose wrinkling a touch before he devours the slice when the letter is shown.

“Mm, I would love to.” He hums, sitting forward slightly to take the letter. Popping it open, he pulls the letter out and clears his throat. “”Danta, everything down here is going about as planned. Nothing of note from any of the other leaders so far, though I’m hearing rumbling about Stormbreak having a new leader. I’ll let you know if I find out more. Hope you aren’t too tired after your busy season. – Kiada. P.S. I’m so sick of the frogs. Please have Asta teach you something else so I can have some kind of variety. I might even forgive you if it's my favorite animal.”” He finishes the letter with a hum of a laugh, a glance shot over toward his lover before he’s pausing in their meal to fold the letter into an origami mouse, with ears that perk up not unlike the bats he’d shown Danta before as he hands it back to him and plucks a piece of meat from the tray to dive into. "So," he starts off thoughtfully. "What is her favorite animal?"

Astaroth

the woods will haunt you like a frigid breeze —

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

Happily slumped against Asta before the warmth of the fire, Danta is busy following suit with a slice of bread and jam as the other man begins to read out what turns out to be Kiada's weekly report. He smirks at the mention of his busy season and can't help but chuckle to hear that yes, apparently his Registrar is done with the frogs now. "Mm, I couldn't say," he says with a shrug of his shoulder, brushing the crumbs from his hands and reaching out to accept the origami mouse.

His eyes instantly widen in a mixture of delight and outrage that he's only just been shown this new creation, Danta setting it gently in the blankets and providing it with a crumb of cheese while he grabs up his next snack of the evening. "I reckon," he says, chewing thoughtfully on some more cheese wrapped in a bit of meat, "it's a fox. Couldn't possibly say why." He smirks. "I'll make her a bunch of foxes though, see if that sweetens her mood."

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //

— frozen grounds and leafless trees

“Hmmm.” Asta drawls, devouring the slice of meat after handing the mouse to the Maverick, watching the delight and outrage flicker across his face. It sparks the twitch of his smile to widen, watching as he sets it down in the nest of blankets and offers it cheese. He laughs warmly, taking the moment to sip from his tea as Danta thinks.

And perhaps it’s his exhausted mind that hadn’t drawn to foxes but instead to a bird of some kind, that sparks the realization and connection in his mind to grin back at him. “I will happily help you create them if it helps her mood.” He drawls, snagging another piece of meat before he devours it and settles in, eyes falling to the origami mouse as he mulls over what she’s said. “How are you..? After your busy season, that is.” He probes softly, feeling a bit better with the tea and food to settle in his stomach – though it stretches the fingers of exhaustion even deeper through him. His gaze flits up from the mouse to study his lover's face, as if he might be able to latch onto anything that he isn't going to say verbally (despite Danta very rarely doing such a thing).

Astaroth

the woods will haunt you like a frigid breeze —

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

"Even if it doesn't, I will never say no to some help in covering my desk in them for her to find," Danta says, smirking around a bite of cracker and another grape. "Some will be paperwork, but others will just be foxes. I like to keep Kiada on her toes and let her rifle through them to figure out which is which." Yes, in Danta's mind, keeping her on her toes and driving her to madness are very similar indeed.

Finally starting to feel sated after the initial bout of starvation upon waking up, the Maverick leans more comfortably against Asta and raises his eyebrows at the other man's question, as if surprised by the sincerity of it. As such, he gives it the time it deserves before answering, eventually shifting to rest his chin on the butcher's shoulder.

"I am much better for napping," he says, a smirk curling across his lips. "And while it has been strange to not have you pinning me into the pillows every few hours, I am enjoying this dozy side of you." Leaning in to kiss Asta's cheek, he relaxes back once more. "I can also walk past your office door now without freaking out, so long as I do it quickly."

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //

— frozen grounds and leafless trees

“How devious of you.” The butcher hums with another soft laugh, imagining the rage that Kiada might go through downstairs in the Theocrat’s office – opening up multitudes of frogs and the like only to find them empty when the few important bits and pieces were hidden amongst the rest. It isn’t his problem, though, and he’d gladly stay away from the thoughts and responsibilities of government because he’s far happier to be here instead of dealing with all of that.

His question, though, is soft as he asks the one on his mind. And he focuses hard on hearing the answer as he snags a piece of cheese this time – brie, from the looks of it, that he dips into a bit of the jam before devouring it too, giving his lover time to answer the loaded question he’s asked.

When it comes, though, it’s better than he expects. So he nods, pressing into the kiss pressed to his cheek, arms sweeping around his middle to keep him close where he’s curled into his shoulder and chest. “Good.” He murnurs gently, to hear that Danta’s enjoying this version. His brows lift, though, as he tilts his head in against his lover’s cheek. “That is lovely to hear. I am sure the monsters are slowly moving their way out of my office by this point, anyway.” He hums, pressing a soft and tired kiss to his cheek.

Astaroth

the woods will haunt you like a frigid breeze —

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

"Why, were you worried I'd suddenly not want you any more?" Danta wonders, his question loaded with the same quiet honesty as Asta's had been. Letting the other man enjoy a further bite from their snack board, only when he's finished does the Maverick shift to twist further against him, disturbing the origami mouse and its cheese in the way he all but clambers astride the other man, blanket draped around him and his arms winding around Asta's shoulders.

"And how are you, after our busy season?" he fires back belatedly, since they're unexpectedly on the subject. "Other than understandably exhausted." It's with a soft smirk that Danta lets his hands tease carefully through the butcher's messy hair, tiny licks of fire igniting at his fingertips to inject warmth wherever his touch passes over.

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //

— frozen grounds and leafless trees

Danta’s question receives a similar treatment – a quiet pause, a weight that’s heavy like the snow clinging to the architecture outside growing between them before he’s finally formulated his response. “No.” That’s the most basic point of it at least. “I had figured you might prefer a bit of time to relax, too.” His smile is softer, his arms sweeping around Danta’s middle once he’s clamored into his lap. “And you alleviated those fears of disinterest last season when I asked you about it.” He murmurs, nosing in to press a kiss to his nose.

Withdrawing to hear the return question – and having to figure out just what he feels that isn’t influenced or inflated by the exhaustion weighing against him, it’s with a slow and tired rumble of his voice as warmth flares against his head and through his dark hair that he answers. “I feel strange. All of the aggression from last season just.. vanished. There is no half and half like there had been before? I feel incredibly passive and apathetic.” Which is something the butcher has very rarely ever had to endure.

He leans in to rest his forehead against Danta’s briefly, drawing up his glamour to lose the horns and give Danta more space to drag his fire tipped fingers through.

Astaroth

the woods will haunt you like a frigid breeze —

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

Smiling a touch - at the easy affection as well as the explanation Asta gives - Danta nods and draws quiet to listen, his eyes closing as he touches his forehead to the butcher's. "Good," he mutters. "I've been many things over our long, strange relationship, but disinterested in you has never been one of them." He chuckles. From the fires of the Climb and the raw hatred and and aggression of that time to the disdain and mischief that had eventually melted into something strange and quiet and mighty between them, Asta has always been something to Danta.

Humming thoughtfully as the other man continues, the Maverick smiles and scritches his fingers harder through his hair when his horns disappear, carefully guiding Asta's head down against his shoulder. "I wonder if that's just a temporary thing," he says. "I imagine it might take a couple of days for you to get used to not feeling aggressively horny and fighty all the time." He laughs. "I wouldn't be surprised if anything less intense feels weird."

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //

— frozen grounds and leafless trees

He huffs a sound like a soft laugh to hear Danta’s chuckle, relaxing further to hear it confirmed again. While it hadn’t been a realistic fear, the butcher has found that he is someone quite in need of reinforcement over time. Having never had a relationship to this extent and given their long, eventful history together, the butcher realizes that he doesn’t have to worry about it as much as he had at the start.

He's separated this version of Danta versus the one at the Climb – and while at times the two overlap, it isn’t that often.

And for now? Right now, he’s his Danta, guiding his head to rest against his shoulder while his firelit fingers thread through his hair, scratching at the spaces on his scalp where his horns had been once before. Perfectly, beautifully, him. Asta shivers in delight, arms squeezing around him tightly before he presses a warm kiss to his lover’s bare shoulder. “That could very well be.” He agrees on the heels of a sigh. “I suppose at least we will know how to prepare for next year?” His lips quirk up in the hint of a tired smile.

Astaroth

the woods will haunt you like a frigid breeze —