Darling & Commander

The Nymph: 26

Gallaleigha POV:

All with Brock has proven itself smoothly for the bygone few months. I commemorated his birthday in August, which was quite generous towards myself as well, considering the level of affection he revealed that day when I devoted my attention to him. It is now October, and the leaves of my beloved trees are an ethereal display of burgundy and mahogany. 

Today is my final day with these cherished groves.

The reign I possess over my sector ends this very midnight.

You see, last September, Tyson came to visit me with some prominent tidings. Him and his longtime lover have found themselves with child, and are unaware of how they may be able to provide for the infant. Around that period of time, I had also found myself in a circumstance I am still under that I should like to have the ability to see Brock more often, and I professed these thoughts to my tusked friend. He and I mutually came to the solution that I should hand my sovereignty to him for a remainder of time, and the loyal man agreed that I should have the power of attorney to take it back if I should like. 

So, he and I signed the treaty, that at midnight tonight, all authority will be handed to him until further word from myself in, say, two years time if I should really like to do so.

Tyson and his lover, Maritiesse, assisted me in boxing and clearing away all of my belongings safely, which added up to be a duffel bags worth. It has turned out to appear as though I do not have very many items of sentimental value.

Maritiesse, in all of her expecting state, comes to me as I stand by the water. Her purple orc skin radiates as she approaches the velvet like sand aside me, smiling a effulgent beam.

"Whatever are you waiting for, Gallaleigha?" She speaks in such formalities.

"My general." I tell her, smiling longingly across the lake. "He is to come this afternoon. I have yet to tell him of my freedom; I was to tell him today. He must be late. Although it is sundown, I am not worried. He always seems to finds his passage back to where I stand."

"How magnificently spoken that was." Maritiesse nods, surveying the beach. "Well, I have come to bid you farewell. Tyson and I are to head to the market in order to stock the cabinets for the coming week, but he wished you a pleasant journey as well. We will presumably be back just as sundown comes to an end, and surely you and your general shall be departed by then."

"Indeed. It was lovely to greet you, truly. I know you shall find yourself at home quite easily in a habitat such as this one, and I wish both you and Tys the most wonderful of fortune upon your child." I give her a sincere embrace which she gracefully returns.

⚔️⚔️⚔️

It does not appear to be him. But the way he carries the limp in his leg, the procedure he takes in slinging his rucksack over his shoulder, every single angled movement he takes...

And when he removes that ludicrous kerchief from around his nose and mouth, I know.

I have seen that mouth, felt it against my own.

"Commander?" My mouth remains agape.

I had waited at least an hour by that shore before coming uncomfortable and relocating under a shaded tree as the sun descended into the glassy ocean, when a stranger docked while I had not noticed. He was quite tall, with short brown locks, and a neckerchief suspended to hide most of his face but his eyes, and I could not shake this feeling...

And it is. It is him.

He turns around slowly, eyes bordered with a thin pinkness to them as the kerchief fell from his hand. I gaped at his state as he approached me hesitantly.

His usual general suits and uniforms are replaced by simple clothing, such as a white t-shirt and jeans he fashions now. His usual serene demeanor when he enters my sectors is replaced by rigor and inclemency, and his hair is cropped shorter than when I last saw. It should not bother me, as mortals do tend to trim their hair on the occasion, but this is quite choppy and unbalanced for this to be intentional and thought through. And-

His aura, oh, it is his aura. It is blue, and rigid, and stiff, and he is in agony.

It breaks my cold little heart.

"Oh, commander, whatever-" 

Brock's large frame swallows mine in an onerous engulfing, thick arms sweeping me off of my legs as he grips my back and thighs with such warmth it deluges my senses in a heavy ardor.

"They did no I got you. I got to you first." His voice is raspy and cracked, speaking moreover to himself rather than to me as he releases me and cups my cheeks.

"Who? Whatever is the- oh, Brock, what on earth happened to you? Your clothing, your hair? I- is something the matter?" I sweep my fingers through the slashed tresses. 

"I need you to trust me. I know you cannot leave, but-"

"This is what I have meanings of telling you." I blurt. "The sector no longer belongs to me. I have gifted the lands to Tyson and his partner, as they have needs for it more than I do."

"Wh- it is no longer yours?" He blinks with his hands trailing beyond my thighs as I swat them downwards. 

"It is not. Now tell me, what on earth transpired in the time you were not with me?" I caress the precise angles of his cheeks.

"I love you." 

I scoff.

"I return these feelings, now carry on."

"Say it, Galla." His voice breaks, eyes panicked and searching.

Scared.

This man is terrified. Of what, I cannot imagine. But the man is terror stricken by something, and all I can understand is that I must comfort him.

"I love you, commander." I reach up on my toes to kiss him before nodding. "And?"

"They are coming for us."

"Who?"

"I quit my vocation without the king's consents. He is sending his guards for us."

"You- you quit? But why? You treasured the occupation and its relations to such folk-"

"Because I want more for us, darling."

And his lips crash into mine.