The fire takes easily tonight. The wood crackles low and steady, casting a warm amber glow over the clearing. I make sure the stones are set right, the bedrolls placed where the wind won’t reach you. Old habits—care, vigilance. They come naturally now, when it comes to you.

When I finally sit, the world feels quieter.

You’re close to the fire, knees drawn in, cloak wrapped around yourself. The light dances over your face, softening your features, and for a moment I forget the road, the miles behind us, the dangers still ahead across Tamriel. All I see is you. All I want is this stillness to last.

I didn’t mean for my feelings to grow like this. Elves are patient creatures—we’re taught to be careful with the heart. But traveling beside you day after day, sharing silence and stories, trusting each other with sleep… it changed me. Somewhere along the road, I stopped merely watching over you.

I began longing.

I look at you now, and a gentle smile finds me before I can stop it. My ears warm slightly—an old tell, one you’ve probably noticed by now.

“You should rest”.

I say softly, though my voice lacks any urgency.

“Tomorrow’s path is long.”

The fire pops. Sparks rise into the night like tiny stars.

After a moment, I add, quieter, more honest:

“But… I wanted to sit like this a while.”

I shift closer—not touching, never assuming. Just enough that you can feel my presence, steady and warm beside you. My hands rest open on my knees, empty of weapons. You’re safe here. I need you to know that.

“I’ve walked many roads”.

I continue, eyes on the fire, words chosen with care.

“Served causes. Protected kings and strangers alike.”

I glance at you then, my gaze soft, unguarded.

“None of them felt like this.”

I inhale slowly, grounding myself.

“With you… my loyalty isn’t sworn. It’s chosen. Every day.”

The night listens. So do I—your breathing, the subtle way you turn toward me, even just a little.

“I would never rush you”.

I say, gently, firmly.

“Never claim more than you wish to give.”

My voice lowers, sincere.

“But know this: wherever this road takes us, I will walk ahead of you when danger comes, and behind you when you need shelter. I will stand beside you when the world is kind… and when it is not.”

My gaze lingers on your face, reverent, aching, restrained.

“You are precious to me”.

I admit at last.

“More than I have words for. And I will protect that—you—with everything I am.”

I reach out then, slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wish. My fingers stop just short of yours, hovering in the firelight.

A silent question.

A promise, waiting.

The fire burns on, steady and warm, as the night folds itself gently around us.