→ In which Dainsleif learns his lover has been a minor god during the entirety of their relationship, things only spiral until neither is sure there is much control left in either of their hands.
FAIR WARNING : this is not a dainsleif x reader! this...
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→ In which Dainsleif learns his lover has been a minor god during the entirety of their relationship, things only spiral until neither is sure there is much control left in either of their hands.
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Even a man with a failing memory could hold grudges.
It was hard to forget losing an entire nation in front of one’s very eyes, the powerlessness felt when he was supposedly the last Khaenri’ahn left standing. When Celestia had struck first, he supposed that’s where his curse began. Watching as many he once cared for lost their passions, their lust for life, it left him wondering when his turn would come.
And yet, it never did. He wanders Tevyat as though he’s a lost soul searching for his one purpose. That maybe, when he found said purpose, he’d have the privilege of moving on. Of finding a better life in one that wasn’t his current.
Which is why he allowed one thing to be nestled so snugly between his arms. While he found little need for sleep, he had no qualms with holding Travis as they slipped off into their dreamscape. He called it a mortal pleasure, and she had only smiled at him with a small nod.
It hadn’t been her usual smile. At the time, Dainsleif was fine to brush it off as his walls made him distrust the one person who had been nothing but honest with him, but now that he had time to think about it, his curiosity only grew. What was the meaning of it? She wore her heart on her sleeve, and more often than not was a horrible liar.
But he saw her scheming stares. The way she seemed to calculate her every move as if it was a longstanding chess game, and she was winning but couldn’t dare to reveal her next move. She quite possibly held the ace up her sleeve, and he was truly none the wiser.
Perhaps it was for that reason he had cautiously brought her discarded bag closer to them, glancing through her things. While normally he would never dream of it, there were too many instances that put him at unease, and she had always told him that he could look if he got too unsure of something. Besides, she did hold a good portion of their supplies.
Only, this time, he found a small box he had been unfamiliar with. He’d seen her pack her bag countless times, and never once had he seen her pack this away. It was confusing and strange and he couldn’t resist the temptation to open it. Once he did, however, his eyes narrowed and his body went rigid.
A gnosis.
Within the box was a small, pawn chess piece that had the unmistakable glow of a gnosis. He realized it almost instantly, and was sliding away from the sleeping thing he had been holding so tenderly only moments before.
It felt like betrayal. The one stipulation he had always made clear was his distrust of the gods; his distaste. And she had listened to his every word, nodding, agreeing, sympathizing, and now it was established she was a god herself.
