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The nightingale sings as the wind carries over the smell of the sea. It’s salty, familiar and always nearby at the graveyard lighthouse. Within this tower, the solitary lightkeeper Flins resides tonight. He watches over the creatures of the night, as well as non nocturnals who still wander around in the darkness.
The lighthouse flickers as he turns on the additional nightlights. Tonight was particularly foggy, making him already being able hear tomorrow’s complaints about ‘lost patrol guards’ or ‘captains not being able to find the harbor’.
As if that was his task. It wasn’t. He did it regardless to save himself an eternal debate with the local self proclaimed law enforcers. Nod Krai doesn’t have an official law enforcement, though some white knight complexers take on that role for both the locals and the tourists anyways.
Flins sat down on his weary chair, the one he got as a hand-me-down from an old friend. He moved his long icy blue hair over the back, hating the texture behind him. The book that was supposed to keep him entertained tonight turned out to be written in a language hard to comprehend… turns out randomly selecting one from the graveyards collection wasn’t the greatest idea.
“et lux dux erat equiti albo vestito” he murmured. Sometimes he read these difficult texts aloud, making the comprehension that little easier. His deep thoughts were interrupted when a loud bang emerged from the door.
Flins couldn’t help but groan, that could only mean two things; One, he was being summoned on a secret mission by one of his familiars, or two, a local fisherman found the lights too bright to sleep.
The sound of the scraping chair soon followed, as he walked towards the sound. He hated being interrupted which was certainly visible on his face. Whoever decided to interrupt his nighttime solitary would not be meeting the half-social Flins, but the barely-responding Flins.
“I can assure you that the light’s brightness is necessary for the local commerce boats to fin-..” He started his spiel, only to be met with someone larger than him. Much taller than him. This wasn’t a common occurrence, making him slowly lift his head towards his visitor.
“Ah it’s you. Headmaster of the knights of favonius, did not expect to see one like you here at this time” Flins spoke quietly and respectfully, even if most of it was forced etiquette. He was still annoyed about his solitary being interrupted, but also supposed that this man had actual reason of being here.
“I’ve only just got here and you already look like I’ve just personally dimmed your social battery.” The tall knight responded with that awful smirk on his face. Was this a joke to him? Just a funny visit after his own patrolling?
“Whatever that may mean, I hold no interest for. If you could tell me what it is that decided you to bother me at this time of night, I would appreciate you being short and direct about your intentions” The lightkeeper responded aloof and monotone. If he could hardly tolerate his jokes at day, then he’d certainly ignore them at night.
“Well that shiny light of yours brought me here. One of my man’s horses wandered off a little too far for comfort, likely smelling some food nearby or sum’” The knight responded with as much jest in his mouth as always. It must have been the truth though, as in his hand was the lead connected to a mighty stallion. Was everything big about this guy..?
“Coming here was the most logical option cuz the mist made it a nag to navigate my way back, and why would I miss the opportunity to bother my favorite introvert?” Geez. Couldn’t this guy ever stop jesting? It was past 2 am for archons sake.
“That does indeed sound like a logical solution. I would think that the only right way to handle this unexpected meeting would be to offer you a place to spend the night, as my duty dictates.” The purple haired man explained, already opening the door.
“But.. that horse may not enter. I detest the cleanup of hairy animals in my home.” He spoke out of experience. Whenever Lauma would come over, the place was always filled with a collection of hairs from all the creatures in the forest.
“So essentially you’re saying that I can crash the night, right? Such fancy words for midnight confrontations man, doesn’t it get tiring for you?” The blonde spoke after tying the horse to a fence outside, walking in like he was right at home.
“No.” Was the short and cold response he got. The lightkeeper was appalled by the others ability to be so comfortable in what was considered his very much earned and needed personal space. He reeked of wine, likely from one of those contest the town organizes. Him being drunk wasn’t a valable idea though, Flins would’ve been able to tell that by now.
“Nice place you got, small yet filled to the brim with all kinds of stuff.” Varka was seemingly having an internal competition with himself to see how many delicate ornaments he could touch before the owner would halt him.
“Could you not? It is not because you are loaded with money of your favonius affiliation, that you could think that any of this is repayable.” The purple haired man spoke firmly. It wasn’t that he particularly liked any of that stuff, it was only the sentiment that counted.
“Eh, I’m sure whatever this small trinket of yours costs, I’d be able to pay it back double. Or.. oh. Oh~. Could this perhaps be from a lover, hm~?”
The disdain on his face could not be hidden it seemed, as the blonde only laughed harder after seeing his reaction.
“That is not relevant. This is my place so I would kindly advice you to keep your hands to yourself.”
“Relax buddy, I won’t touch any of your precious lil’ trinkets, or you for that matter. Unless you’re into that of course.” He added with a smirk and a teasing expression.
“You speak as if you swallowed a corny pick-up line book. Please stop for my own sanity.” Flins responded, though he couldn’t deny that that did something with him.
He always got this feeling whenever the tall man said such ludicrous things. At first he assumed this to be annoyance, or simply embarrassment from the suggestive comments. The more he thought about it, the warmer it seemed to get here.
“Pff alright man, whatever rocks your boat.” The knight actually listened, settling down somewhere on an old couch, out of sight, out of mind.
For several hours the lightkeeper could focus on his book. He wrote down his findings in a nearby notebook, deeply immersed. So deeply immersed it seemed, that he didn’t notice the grand presence behind him until his shadow interrupted his light.
“What are you even reading? You keep murmuring strange speech. I was half starting to think that you were casting some strange spell on me.” Had this man seriously thought that he had been talking to him this entire time?
“It is my duty as protector of the graveyard to keep its books tidy and relevant. This includes translating texts which were becoming too outdated for the average scholar to translate.” The shorter one explained, still a bit taken off guard by how he managed to sneak up on him.
“How dutiful as always. Well I am bored out of my mind, your forms of entertainment were really sub-par.” As if he had the right to complain. He should be grateful he even got a place to spend the night.
“I see.” He forced out. “Well then that’s just unfortunate for you then, is it not? As it’s not my responsibility to keep grown men entertained during the night.”
“Relax man, I totally wasn’t judging your interests or anything. I’m simply bored. Could I lend you any help or something? Atleast then I’d actually be useful.”
“So you admit you’re actually being useless right now?”
“Haha. Very funny. No, I’m simply lending a hand.”
“What a knight in shining armor. Fine, hold my lamp for me if you would. Writing and holding it gets tiring after a while.” The lightkeeper handed over his lamp to his midnight companion. Who surprisingly held it so wrong, that even a toddler could hold it better.
“What in archons name are you doing to my lantern.” He spoke with disdain.
“Holding it? Like you asked?” The blonde was actually a little confused, what was he doing wrong?
“You look like you’re trying to finger my lamp.” By which the purple haired man meant, that he was putting two fingers through the hold, though they were obviously too big.
“Pfff holy hell dude, how can you say that with such a cold expression on your face? Alright alright, then how would I hold this lamp correctly without molesting it?”
The lightkeeper sighed, getting up to adjust his hand. They were… big. His skin was rough and marred with a multitude of scars and small wounds. Those fingers though.. He took hold of his hand and rotated his hand, making the lantern hang from 1 finger instead of held up by the usual 3.
“Geez, you’re good with this. Got experience, hm?” Varka was really trying to get kicked out, was he not?
“I choose to ignore that. Just so you don’t need to repeat it.” The shorter man responded. All this jokingly flirting was getting him.. worked up. He wasn’t the most social person and therefore didn’t have many suiting responses for such jests.
Varka noticed the others cheeks slightly reddening, starkly noticeable against his pale skin. Now he had a choice to make: tease the shit out of the poor man.. or maybe try his shot?
Against all logic he chose the latter.
“You know.. thank you, Flins. I really appreciate that I’m getting to stay the night.” He didn’t usually speak so gratefully towards people. Most of the time he repaid them in cash, or perhaps a drink.
The blushing from the other man stayed. He wasn’t particularly aroused or anything, he was simply that unsure of what to respond.
“You.. are welcome, Varka. This lighthouse will always welcome the lost in the dark.”
The blonde smiled. Perhaps the lightkeeper was more than just that cold facade he so liked to hide behind. Well the night was still young, so perhaps he’d find that out later…