enchanted | Druig x Makkari

gilgamesh

           

6000 YEARS AGO

Gilgamesh was more than the stories said he was. He was not a brute, not a man possessed, and certainly not brainless. Though he was quiet, he was observant. A wallflower, granted a rather large wallflower, but a wallflower nonetheless. The others were so used to him being in the background that they often forgot he was there.

Only Thena, his beautiful Thena, always seemed aware of him.

It was that reason that he was the next to notice Druig and Makkari's ever evolving romance.

The sun had been setting, casting the sky as a lovely pale orange, when he announced to the others that supper was being served. His love for cooking had grown over his thousand years on Earth. He often wandered markets and shops to see what new spices or recipes had been invented or discovered, cataloguing them all in his mind to try.

The others asked him to cook in times of peace, when he was not needed in a fight. It felt nice to do something non-violent, to provide for his family this way. He did it gladly, secretly pleased at the way their faces would light up at the smell of his stew or the way they would sigh dreamily at his smoked meats.

He had been making beef and potatoes that night, he recalled, trying new spices he had bought from the nearby market. Though he had not tried it yet, he knew that if the food tasted half as good as it smelled, it would be the best thing he had ever cooked. He was eager to see how it was, so he had leaned around the fire and called out, "Supper's up."

The others had wandered over, pulled from their discussions and readings, to fill their bowls. Only a few of them were present at the time—Druig, Sprite, and Sersi had been out exploring earlier in the day and had not yet returned—so Gilgamesh had set their bowls aside.

When will the others be back? Makkari had signed to Ajak once they were all seated again, glancing at the small stack of bowls near the fire.

"I'm not sure," Ajak had responded, spearing a bite of potato and popping it into her mouth. "Perhaps later?"

Makkari had frowned but nodded, turning back to her meal. She ate with less vigor and enthusiasm than she usually did—if there was anyone who appreciated Gil's cooking, it was her—but she finished her bowl and cleaned it in the river anyway. She sat with the others until they finished and left, disappearing back into the hut nearby.

Makkari touched Gil lightly on the shoulder as she passed him, signing when she got his attention. Thank you for supper. It was delicious.

Thank you and you're welcome. Gilgamesh had signed back.

Makkari had nodded and disappeared, the breeze ruffling the leaves on the ground. Gil had stood, preparing to clean up, when she reappeared maybe a minute or two later, bringing Druig with her. Druig blinked at the campsite, shifting around to face Makkari. Why did you bring me back?

Gilgamesh made supper. You must try it. Makkari insisted, nudging him forward. Druig had shrugged, getting himself a bowl of beef and potatoes before sitting down in the grass near the fire. Makkari settled in next to him, leaning into his side as he ate.

"Wow," Druig had said around a mouthful, blue eyes wide. "This is..."

See? Makkari grinned smugly at him.

"Alright, alright, don't go gettin' an ego on me." Druig grumbled, stuffing half a potato in his mouth as he did. Makkari had only smiled at him, eyes going soft as she watched him eat.

Gil stood nearby, unnoticed by the two of them. It struck him then, that this was something special. Druig, known for his scowl and perpetual bad attitude, seemed to crumble under the weight of Makkari's smile. He had winked at her, offering her a bite from his bowl and she had taken it from him, lips brushing his fingers as she had done so.

There had been a heat in Druig's eyes, more intense than a supernova, as he watched Makkari straighten back up, their shoulders brushing as she did. Gilgamesh had only seen that same type of heat in the eyes of yearning men, men who got on their knees and prayed to the Gods for the things that they wanted.

It wouldn't have surprised Gil if Druig had gotten on his knees right then and there and prayed to Makkari. And, judging by the same simmering heat in Makkari's eyes, it wouldn't have been a shock if she had gotten on her knees and worshipped him right back. But instead of doing what they both so desperately wanted to do, Druig only leaned forward and bumped Makkari's forehead with his own.

Somehow, the gesture was even more intimate than a kiss.