[PP - F22] Anchor

[Lessa 1]

Everything was a bit hazy on the edges, as if she'd woken up from a long nap without knowing quite where she was. Where the first kiss had held warmth, this held fire. It also held promise of more, as did the third kiss, and the fourth. When he drew back just enough to speak, her slow sigh mingled with his words, and filled the space between them. "I'd like that," was all she could manage, before she let her forehead press against his. Lessa held there, just letting herself sink into him. And when a single hand rose to cup his cheek, it trembled.

Then there was a sudden, familiar weight pressing against her shins. Riker rubbed his massive body along her leg, then plopped down on her feet, heaving a comically massive sigh. The autumn leaves murmured on the cool breeze, and her own soundtrack of jumping fish and buzzing insects played undisturbed. How many evenings had been spent on the porch, just like this? With her familiar, and her solitude, and all she'd thought she'd wanted. All she'd needed. Yet now, she couldn't imagine that chair without him in it. "I didn't expect this," she confessed, her voice a mere whisper. "I didn't expect you." Her thumb stroked his cheek absently, and she let her eyes close before speaking again. "I didn't think I needed anyone else. I was okay on my own. I was-"

She cut herself off mid-sentence by pressing her own lips to his, a move she was making before she fully comprehended it. It was a quick kiss, and it lacked the depth and passion of Bahr's. Her's was more urgent, a bit more forceful, and she shook when she finally drew back from him. Her hand dropped from his cheek. 

"Bahr." She opened her eyes to find his. All dreaminess was gone now, and something sharper lurked just beneath the surface. "I wasn't okay. Not on my own, not at all. I haven't been for a really long time. Not since Alkor died."

Simply speaking his name dragged the weight from her chest. It also opened the floodgate, weak from so many years of holding back the barrage. "He was my only friend. I cared for him so, so much, and he... didn't." Lessa swallowed quickly around a lump in her throat, then forged ahead. The hand that still clasped his tightened and held, a drowning woman clinging to her lifeline. "And then he died, and I didn't know how to..." Though the emotion raged unchecked, the words refused to come. "He had a girlfriend. She was shattered, and she mourned, and she moved on. I didn't. I wasn't... anything to him. I lost something I never had."

Why was she telling him all of that? In truth, Lessa had no idea. Because she felt vulnerable? Because she felt love? Because she was finally letting herself care for someone with the same desperate need she'd reserved for Alkor? It had driven him away. 

It could happen again.

[Bahr 0]

Bahr had been so caught off guard by the kiss she plunged into him. It had felt different than the ones before. Urgent, pleading. He'd been so surprised, in fact, that he almost didn't catch what came after.

"Bahr." His eyes snapped to hers when he heard the seriousness in her tone. "I wasn't okay. Not on my own, not at all. I haven't been for a really long time. Not since Alkor died."

His eyes widened ever slightly in response, adopting an inquisitive shape. Their first night sharing the warmth of White Rabbit together, Bahr had postulated that she had lost someone she loved. She became quite prickly in response when he did, and shirked the topic almost as soon as it had been brought up. He'd even tried to console her about it, but when his hand had graced her back, she became tense. It was a strange memory to delve into, considering how close they were now. Could this have been the guy she was talking about back then?

"He was my only friend. I cared for him so, so much, and he... didn't. And then he died, and I didn't know how to... He had a girlfriend. She was shattered, and she mourned, and she moved on. I didn't. I wasn't... anything to him. I lost something I never had."

She had really loved him. It was painfully evident in each word she choked out, struggling to articulate the thoughts and emotions floating around inside her. Bahr could have been upset by this. In fact, a part of him even wanted to be, considering how quickly he would allow his emotions to flare around others. But he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he just felt bits and pieces of the pain she felt. In her hand gripping his, in the tone of her voice, in the breath that shakily escaped her lips. There was so much of it, and she had been carrying it around for years. All alone. Had anyone even allowed her to grieve to them? Had anyone held her and told her that she was going to be okay? Had anyone showed her that she had the support that she needed?

If they had, where were they now?

It was almost an awkward motion. Actually, it was definitely an awkward motion. Bahr had no idea the chair would be so heavy. But in an effort to close the distance between them a bit more, he relinquished his hand from her grasp and grabbed the arm of her chair, pulling on it to inch it closer to his until the arms overlapped. He then wrapped an arm around the back and pulled her into the nook between his shoulder and his jaw, hand running through her hair in the most comforting way he could manage.

"Of course you weren't okay. You couldn't be. It's really hard to mourn something like that without anyone around." Was he rocking? He was rocking. It was pretty cheesy, but felt like the right thing to do. "But you're not alone now. And I'm not going anywhere. I promise." 

They rode silence for a few moments. Bahr wasn't sure what else he could say to her. He'd never been the best at things like this. But there was one thing that stood out at the forefront of his mind.

"Just like you're there with me, I'm there with you. With whatever darkness you're going through."

[Lessa 1]

Frankly, Lessa wasn't entirely sure what she'd been expecting. Anger, maybe, because she'd brought up another man on the heels of their first kisses? Jealousy? Disappointment? Sympathy? But at first, there were none of those things. There were no words. Drawn as tight as a bowstring after her declaration, she blinked owlishly as Bahr tugged her chair closer. When his arm snaked around her, and drew her quivering body against him, she couldn't stop the strangled sound from escaping her lips.

Part of her wanted to cry. It was the same piece that always teetered on the brink of breakdown, triggered by thoughts of home, of her harsh new reality, of Alkor. But as Bahr murmured to her, and gently rocked them both, no tears came. She thought the gesture of kindness would bring her to breaking, but instead, it pulled her from the edge. Where she thought she'd find release, she found only comfort. It was remarkable.

Lessa turned into him, accepting the tremendous gift he offered her. Her cheeks, cooled by the night air, warmed against his neck. And though it was cliched, she found immeasurable pleasure at the sound of his heartbeat beneath the thin fabric.

"There's a lot of darkness in a place like this," she finally said. "It scares me when I think about how much I stand to lose. But being with you makes it easier. And knowing you're not leaving..." She pulled back just enough to look up at him. Those eyes, so vibrant, and so unique; she had never seen someone with dual-tones before. It would be just another thing she would never forget about him. "Well, it gives me hope. And that's pretty valuable."

[Bahr 0]

Hope. 

He'd forgotten the feel of it. Gentle and powerful wrapped up into a single neat package. A driving force for many. Bahr had foolishly believed that his motivation up until now had been hope. But now that he was actually feeling it, he knew that he had been woefully wrong.

Hope that he would never have to see Lessa walk away. Hope that whatever this was could bloom into something even more beautiful. Even silly hopes, like they would meet at some point on the other side and start this wild ride all over again. But was that really so silly? 

Probably. This was all still in its infancy. He needed to reel himself in, despite his every desire to the contrary. But when he looked down into the cerulean saucers that were her eyes, he could see it. Hope. Maybe she could see it in his, too. 

Another chilly breeze rolled through, and Bahr sensed a shiver from Lessa. He himself didn't mind the chill, but she was quite a bit smaller than he was. No doubt she would be feeling miserable before long. He didn't have a blanket, but he had the next best thing. With a swipe of his finger and a couple of taps, his bright red jacket materialize in his hands and he draped it over her shoulders. It was comically large on her, but that was sort of the point. She'd be able to stay warm in it, even against the persistent breeze that seemed to seep right through one's skin and straight to the bone. 

"Could you tell me about him?" Bahr asked, against his better judgement. He had no idea the can of worms he was opening, or what sort of damage it could do to him. But Lessa needed this. Alyssa needed this. Whether or not he was hurt in the process was of little consequence. "Alkor, I mean. What was he like? How did you guys meet? What sorts of things did you do together?" Even asking pained him. Would something like this make her miss him more? Or would it finally help her move past it all? 

[Lessa 1]

By the time the coat settled over her shoulders, Lessa's face was the same color as the material. There was embarrassment, as the gesture was so old-fashioned. It was so like him, the perfect gentleman - a far cry from the man she'd met at the Monument. He'd been dismissive, and somewhat short with her. But had she not been the same with him? They'd come a long way. They had so much more ahead of them.

Mostly, she was impossibly pleased by the whole thing. It was probably the Aincrad equivalent of being given a boy's varsity jacket. Were they going steady now? Foolishly delighted, she pulled the coat tighter and beamed over at him. The truth was, she had no idea what they were to each other. Maybe that was okay for the time being. Relationships didn't quite work the same way here as they did in the real world, a fact she'd learned on day one. But whatever this nameless place was, she was content there. Happy, even. Okay, pretty thrilled, if she were being honest with herself. And after removing Alkor's crushing weight, Lessa felt lighter than she had in years.

"Could you tell me about him? Alkor, I mean. What was he like? How did you guys meet? What sorts of things did you do together?"

Bahr and Lessa had drawn apart so that she could don his coat. She moved to cozy up again, but his words stopped her from doing so. In an instant, the foot of space between them seemed impossibly vast, a gaping canyon that grew wider like in old cartoon. Lessa leaned away even further, until her back bumped the chair's other arm. "Uh, why?" she asked, the words slow and deliberate. "Are you sure?" When it became evident he was, the woman chewed on her lower lip. She took bit of time to organize her thoughts - the last thing they needed was another emotional word-vomit. When she spoke again, she did so in a low, measured tone. There was no excitable story-telling here. This was a report an officer might give to her superior. 

"I met him as soon as I joined the game. We just bumped into each other. I think I was talking to myself, or something along those lines, and he responded. We started spending more time together: doing quests, grinding, killing field bosses. I made a guild, and he joined it. I considered him my absolute best friend, but he never indicated I was anything more than a party member. A means to an end. His entire existence revolved around beating the game and being the strongest. I was competitive too, and I thought I could keep up."

Storm clouds worried the dark pools of her blue eyes, and she let her gaze drop to her lap. "It reached a breaking point when we fought a duel together. He mopped the floor with me. No mercy. Stabbed me with the sword I'd just crafted for him." She drew a long, slow breath. An ugly, humorless smile contorted her expression. "That was sort of par for the course. I gave him a gift, and he literally killed me with it."

"Anyway, I guess at that point I got a little desperate. I don't know why, but all I wanted to do was break down the walls he'd put up." Weakly, she motioned to Bahr with a flick of her wrist. "Fix him, like you said. My feelings for him were so strong, and I just wanted to know if he felt the same. I wanted him to know it would be okay, that I could make it okay for him." Lessa shook her head slowly, and added, "Looking back on it, he was a real dick. But I was eager, and just labeled him 'troubled.' When I pushed, things got worse. He actually removed me from his friends list and ran off with another girl."

Such a monumental event in her life, summed up in a single sentence. A dozen words to describe the absolute anguish of thinking he'd been killed, and the debilitating betrayal that came with learning the truth.

"He died in the Hydra boss battle. I watched him die. I watched Mari go to pieces. I just felt... numb. And I've been numb for a long time. I bet all my money on a horse that didn't even want to race. And four years later, I don't fully understand it myself."

[Bahr 0]

Bahr listened intently to Lessa's explanation, taking care to keep his expression as neutral as possible. He didn't want to give away how much it stung to hear her gushing about another man. But again, this was what she needed. And though it seemed to pain her just talking about it, Bahr could sense that there was something therapeutic happening here. He had wished countless times that he could divulge his experience about Zayne to someone who wouldn't immediately cast him as a ruthless murderer. So he gave her what he had wanted for years. A chance to vent, and articulate the thoughts and feelings she had been holding onto for years with no judgement. That being said, there was something that stood at the forefront of his mind with each piece of new information she layered on.

This guy sounds like a complete asshole.

"He died in the Hydra boss battle. I watched him die. I watched Mari go to pieces. I just felt... numb. And I've been numb for a long time. I bet all my money on a horse that didn't even want to race. And four years later, I don't fully understand it myself."

Bahr had actually read about that in an info drop after the ninth floor raid. Two player fatalities. One was a man dressed in all black, caught in the maw of the beast as its fiery breath scourged his flesh into oblivion. It had stood out to Bahr at the time, because it seemed like a horrible way to go. It had actually been one of the reasons he had felt compelled to stay within the walls of the first town for so long. 

Bahr took a long, measured exhale. This was going to hurt.

"There's nothing to understand about it, really. You were in love." And probably still was. "And probably still are." Damnit.

While his original postulation at White Rabbit had been more of an inference, this time Bahr spoke from experience. "I went through the exact same thing, believe it or not." He settled back into his seat and adjusted his optics to the sky once more. There was a certain cheapness to averting his gaze. It wasn't like she had done that with him. Well, at least, not at first. "Spent practically my whole life doting on a girl. Watched her go from guy to guy. I gave her everything I had, but it still wasn't enough." That breeze really was starting to get cold. Bahr had only ever been to the twenty-second floor when the sun was high in the sky. In the dead of night, the same breeze that would feel warm and soothing during the day carried the essence of the lake with it. The smell of cool water, and the sensation of its frosty embrace permeating his clothing and soaking his skin. He couldn't see his breath, but it almost felt like he should have been able to.

"Even when it finally was enough, it wasn't what I was expecting. Fleeting. A night of passion, and then back to the same routine the very next day. It was horribly confusing." Why was he even sharing this with her? She had just opened up to him in an enormous way, and here he was making it all about him. It was time to circle back.

"Anyways, what I'm trying to say is that there doesn't need to be an explanation. You were just doing what your heart compelled you to do. And from what I can tell, your heart is a pretty powerful thing. The only thing that wouldn't have made sense was trying to defy it."

[Lessa 1]

The knee-jerk reaction had the words spilling from her mouth before they could be stopped. “But we weren’t dating, so-“ Realization dawned, and with a huff of expelled air, Lessa let her head drop into her hands. She stayed that way for a moment, then muttered, “What the hell?” She’d had the same reaction that day at the White Rabbit, and every time someone had asked about Alkor. Of course she didn’t love him, she couldn’t have. They weren’t dating. Mari loved him, because she was allowed to. But not Lessa.

It was likely the stupidest line of thinking she had ever heard of, and the woman was embarrassed to even admit it to herself. She’d believed it. “Yeah,” she admitted finally, lifting her head and letting her hands fall to her lap. “Yeah, I loved him. Maybe I still do. I dunno. I can say that it was stupid, or is stupid...” She looked out over the water, watching the moon dance in the small ripples. “But it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Bahr’s story, though meant to draw parallels, took Lessa’s mind off of Alkor. A variety of thoughts came to her at once, namely who could possibly want anything more than Bahr? Then she felt sympathy for him, knowing full well how difficult a situation it was. Finally, for a fleeting moment, she reflected on his “night of passion.” She could assume what it meant, and she certainly wasn’t going to ask him. Still, it was a bit odd, knowing that Bahr... had.... while she hadn’t. But she wouldn’t think of that.

Instead, she turned to look back at Bahr. “This night really isn’t going at all how I planned it.”

[Bahr 0]

"Yeah, I loved him. Maybe I still do. I dunno."

The words sank into him like a cinder block into a calm pond, disturbing the motionless sheet of the water's surface with a turbulent splash and sending ripples across the entire expanse. But just as the block would settle within the murky depths and the water would return to its stillness, so too would Bahr. In the end, it wasn't like the his situation was that much different. He knew it was unfair to feel this way, all things considered. So he allowed the hunk of concrete to remain undisturbed, buried underneath everything else.

"This night really isn't going how I planned it."

"Yeah, I get what you mean," Bahr admitted on an exhale, settling back into his seat. Despite everything, his hand still searched for hers, seemingly of its own volition. And when it finally found it, he felt relief. Was this going to be him from now on? Seeking comfort in someone else when he was feeling down instead of resolving things on his own? It was a little pathetic, when he really thought about it.

It didn't mean he didn't like it, though.

"But you know, we're getting to spend it together. That's still a win in my book," he said as a cheesy grin spread across his face, only half forced. "Can't think of anywhere I'd rather be. Coming from a self proclaimed combat addict, that's a pretty big deal, I'll have you know. And that's even after the garlic bread catastrophe." Okay, so the smile wasn't being forced at all anymore. A light chuckle worked its way out as his mind traced back to that moment. He'd been too awestruck at the time to realize it, but it was pretty hilarious. "Oh, I get it now. You were planning on giving me food poisoning so that I'd have to stay, right? Helpless and vulnerable. I bet you thought your jabbering of periods and poop would scare me away, so you held onto that as your backup plan. It's pretty clever, but I'm onto you."

[Lessa 1]

Had her words hurt him? Lessa frowned against the darkness, but turned her head to keep the expression from Bahr. Instead, she gazed along the lake's nearest bank, where the trees gave way to a thin strip of sand. Of course it hadn't been her intention to upset him. Besides, had he not been the one who asked for it? He would have known the risk he was taking, requesting that she open up about Alkor. The chance that both of them would walk away wounded. But he'd asked, and she'd answered. She'd been completely honest with him, and with herself, which was a first where Alkor was concerned. That truth may have hurt Bahr, and she was incredibly sorry for that.

His hand found hers, drawing her mind back to the present, and her gaze back to his face. She searched his face, his eyes, for some clue as to his thoughts. He'd never been especially challenging to read, but it was dark, and part of Lessa worried what it was she might find there. Therefore, she was startled when he broke into a grin. So he's not angry after all, she thought, hope blossoming once more. His words settled her, as they always did. How was it possible that he had some a calming influence on her?

In fact, by the time he began to tease her, she could laugh without reservation. "I certainly didn't think periods and poop would make you want to kiss me," she confessed, and meant it. "It wasn't even on my radar. I was just giving you a little nugget of important historical information." She smiled now, and though the expression wasn't as brilliant as Bahr's, it was still genuine. "And I'll have you remember that it was you who insisted I make dinner. You should have known better. I'm certain I've told you that I managed to have negative skill points there." She quirked an eyebrow, and added, "Its pretty bold of you to assume I'd intentionally poison you, or want you to stay over."

Lessa's brain caught up with her mouth a second later, and she smacked the flat of her hand against her forehead.

[Bahr 0]

Bahr couldn't hold back his chortle, half snorting as the sudden expulsion of air caught in his nose. He steadied himself with a deep breath, but a surge of laughter threatened to burst forth again. Somehow, he managed to hold it back.

"Wow. You really have a way with words. First it was discussing bodily functions in reference to a mistletoe, now you're talking about a dirty slumber party. If nothing else, your range is astounding." There were hints of laughter in his tone, but he did his best to subdue them. "And you'd told me about your cooking, but I wasn't expecting that. Masterful work back there. Though, I guess I had you preoccupied." 

"As far as what made me want to kiss you, it wasn't that. It was, uh, something else." He wasn't sure how much he wanted to reveal. Was Lessa the sort of person who wanted Bahr to sit there and- "Your smile." Oh, this is happening. "Your eyes." Oh god. "The way you're always thinking so deeply about everything." You need to stop. "Seeing you under that mistletoe was.. striking." This is so unbelievably cheesy. "It seemed like an opportunity I couldn't let slip away." Stop. Talking. Now.

Finally.

"So, uhh..." Yes. Change the topic. Quickly. "What were you expecting, then? Out of tonight."

[Lessa 1]

The giggle that bubbled up from Lessa was entirely unexpected, and totally embarrassing. Mortified by the high-pitched, girly sound, Lessa clamped down on it mid-laugh. Then, as if to somehow counteract the sound, she gave a manly clearing of her throat. "Well," she began, letting her gaze skip away from his. "I, uh, yeah. Thanks."

Thanks.

Why don't you let this man shower you with praise, compliment your good looks, and even describe how attractive you are when you're thinking. All of that after you just gushed over another man, who is dead. Do that, then just follow it up with a big, whopping 'thanks.' Should you not also thank him for being such a good friend?

Lessa swallowed around the lump in her throat, attempting to silence the roar of her inner monologue. Sure, she was not all that used to kind words, but that did not give her a free pass to be ungrateful. So she drew a breath, then looked back at him. "Thanks," she tried again. "Really. I'm just not really used to all this. I'm not used to someone wanting to... kiss me."

Now it was her turn to stroke his hand, her thumb absently moving across his skin. "I'm glad you did," she confessed, feeling a small smile settle. "I probably wouldn't have, but I wanted to." Shyly, and in a voice just above a whisper, she added, "Just to know what it was like."

Her free hand moved to his coat, which she pulled tighter across her shoulders. "I wasn't expecting any of that though," she answered. "I was honestly expecting to just... hang out. Like we usually do. Talk about politics, or history, or whether or not NPCs have a consciousness." Warmth returned to her blue eyes as she studied his face. "All that stuff I already love."

[Bahr 0]

Bahr's eyes smiled with amusement as he watched her squirm uncomfortably in her seat. It seemed he wasn't the only one not used to getting compliments. But her smile couldn't lie.

"Thanks. Really. I'm just not really used to all this. I'm not used to someone wanting to... kiss me."

Now that was a surprise. Had she not practically a harem of her own? Bahr had simply assumed there were countless men with lust in their eyes coming after her. But when he really stopped to think about it, that had been such a silly train of thought. Not because because of her looks or personality, because those were enrapturing. But because it was so obvious that Bahr was just getting into his own head, as always. He shouldn't have been putting her on a pedestal like that, but a part of him just couldn't help it.

"I'm glad you did. I probably wouldn't have, but I wanted to." Another surprise. "Just to know what it was like."

"I wasn't expecting any of that though. I was honestly expecting to just... hang out. Like we usually do. Talk about politics, or history, or whether or not NPCs have a consciousness. All that stuff I already love."

Once again, Bahr couldn't stop his lips from curling into a smile. His cheeks were actually starting to get tired. It felt like trying to max out your bench press after having neglected your gym membership for a year and a half. His facial muscles - virtual or not - were woefully out of shape for this sort of thing. It was like a smiling marathon. Except everyone was a winner.

Once again, he shifted to the side of his seat and drew her closer, back toward his collarbone where she had rested moments before. A content sigh leaked from his lips as he felt her warmth creeping into him, relaxing his tired muscles as he slumped and leaned his head against hers. 

"I'm almost positive I would be dead if not for you," he admitted quietly, though there was no somberness in his tone. His hand gave hers a light squeeze, and he took a deep breath before continuing. "That day at the Monument, I was in too much of a frenzy to know what to do. But none of them were good." He had already been teetering on the edge at that time. Hopelessly wrapped up in a bloodlust that he still didn't understand. She'd caught a glimpse of it during their fight against the Lich. "I'm not really sure what made the way I was when you found me. Not in that particular moment, mind you. Just who I was at the time. Probably a lot of things. I felt so unbelievably hollow. I faked everything. My enthusiasm, my confidence, my smile. It was like I was a caricature of myself."

"Everything in life is really two ways. The way we all pretend it is, and the way it really is. I was pretending before, and I didn't even realize it. I'm not anymore." What was even coming out of his mouth? Could he not shut up when he was around her? He'd been spilling his guts to her all evening without a shred of restraint, and it showed no signs of slowing now. 

And then more quiet; silence so deep it almost drowned out the roar of crickets and the murmurs of trees as bowed to the wind with groans and creaks. He felt like he should keep going, but he didn't. Nothing more needed to be articulated. He was content to sit there and simply enjoy her company, the closeness of her. The affection he'd gone without for years. A part of him never wanted to let it go.

[Lessa 1]

“I was at the Monument for Alkor,” she heard herself saying. “Well, not for him, exactly. It was for me. A kind of punishment.” Lessa closed her eyes long enough to heave a sigh, then opened them again. “I don’t know why I did that. I don’t know why I constantly had to remind myself he was dead. As if somehow it kept me in my rut. It reminded me I was alive and he wasn’t. That we’d both messed up so badly, and I’d never have the opportunity to make it right.”

Lessa slowly drew away from Bahr. She hated to leave his warmth, and the comfort his hold offered her, but this had to be said face to face. “I saw you, sitting there on the floor. You were the outward expression of the grief I’ve carried inside every single day. When I took your hand, and I hauled you to your feet, it was actually the first step in my healing.” Her smile was a bit crooked, and more than a little wistful as she release his hand to cup his cheek. “I may have saved you from a literal end, but you saved me from a place just as bad as death.”

She leaned into Bahr then, noting the way the night smelled on him. It was one more thing that she hoped to fix in her memory. “I’m being sappy,” she muttered into his neck after pressing her face there. A small laugh escaped her before she could stop it. The evening had rubbed her emotions raw, and Lessa hadn’t quite realized the toll it took on her. Creeping exhaustion stripped away many of her insecurities, and left her a bit slap-happy.

”Isn’t it funny,” she wondered aloud, “how I went there looking for a ghost and found you instead.”

[Bahr 0]

Another content sigh as she leaned in and her warmth returned. If not for the way the darkness of the night stained his eyes, he'd think there was none there at all. 

"Isn’t it funny how I went there looking for a ghost and found you instead."

Bahr had come to realize and appreciate how Lessa's sudden intrusion into his darkness had left a mark on his life. A light that led him back. But he'd failed to consider the ways that he had changed her life. It was something he'd had at the forefront of his mind in the beginning. A drive to correct her depression and pull her out from the mud. Somewhere along the line, this vision was obscured. Selfishness had wormed its way in, for better or worse. Had he succeeded? Parts of him felt that, yes, he had. To a certain degree. There was a still a sadness there. Bitterness, grief, unsettled. Things that could go forever unresolved. But how could he help? He hadn't the faintest idea.

But if her smile was any indication, he was on the right track. 

He wanted to give a direct response, but decided it was something that didn't require it. Tonight they had laid their emotions bare, and it was a cathartic endeavor. As enlightening and enjoyable as it had been, it was also exhausting. Bahr felt like he could sleep for a year. "It's getting late," he declared quietly, in protest against a powerful urge to stay. "But we're not done yet."

He stood and collected his forgotten plate of half-eaten spaghetti, then extended a hand to help Lessa out of her seat. He gingerly pulled her to her feet, a soft grin playing at his lips. "I think we got sidetracked. We were supposed to be decorating, right?" He still held her hand, and laced is fingers between hers. "We should probably get on that if we're ever planning to get it done. We've hung up, what, two decorations? That just won't do."

He led the pair inside and strode into the kitchen, scraping the remainder of his food into the bin and depositing the dish into the sink. There were less manual ways of completing this, of course, but there had been something pleasant about the detachment from the virtual. Especially on a night like this. He returned to the box of ornaments and placed his palms against his hips, huffing a bit at their lack of progress. He glanced at Lessa.

"Do you have a system for this sort of thing? I usually like to hang larger ornaments toward the bottom, and smaller ornaments toward the top. But in the end, this is your show."

[Lessa 1]

Though she wanted desperately to argue with him, her body betrayed her. Lessa was overtaken by a massive yawn, and blinked rapidly to bring him back into focus. "You're probably right," she conceded.

"But we're not done yet."

What was he talking about? Done with what? Dinner? No, she'd left quite a bit of her pasta on her plate. Sort of a shame, considering how kind Bahr was to cook it. Did he mean they weren't done cooking? Lord, she hoped not.

The realization was clear on her face when he finally mentioned the decorations; her sleepy expression hid absolutely nothing. "Oh, uh huh," she answered, nodding. Lessa allowed herself to be led into the house, Riker padding along at her side. Closing the door on the cool, fresh air, she was grateful that her house no longer reeked of garlic hockey pucks.

As Bahr disposed of their dinner, Lessa scrubbed wildly at her face with both hands. Their discussion, and his warm arms had dragged her nearly to the brink of sleep. But she had to get it together if she hoped to end the evening on a positive note. Falling asleep on him wouldn't really send the right message. "There's no system to it," she answered as he studied the ornaments. She wandered over to him, and pressed a hand gently on the small of his back before stooping over the box. Why did she touch him at all? Because she could, and there was something wonderful in that simple notion. 

"It's kind of like you said earlier," she continued, rummaging gently through the various bulbs. "Every year it looks different, because we just decorate it however we feel." Finding what she was looking for, she slowly lifted a particular piece to eye level. A perfectly painted carousel horse hung balanced within a delicate glass bell. "I had four of these made," she informed him. "They're all white, but each has different colors for their manes, tails, saddles, and hooves." Carefully, she held it up for Bahr, offering it for inspection. The vibrant green accents were a stark contrast against the white horse. "This one is Lincoln's. Red is Benjamin's, and Henry's is blue. Mine is purple. They're just like the ones that we hung on the tree back home."

Slowly, and with painstaking care, Lessa hung Link's horse on the tree. She watched it catch and throw the light, the shimmer reflected in her blue eyes. "I like to think they've got mine hanging on their tree. It just... makes me feel closer to them. I need that, especially this time of year."

[Bahr 0]

"There's no system to it," she replied as her thin fingers traced briefly along the small of his back. So casual, as though they'd been doing it for years. Bahr cherished the thought.

"It's kind of like you said earlier. Every year it looks different, because we just decorate it however we feel," she mused as she picked through the box, eventually producing a glass orb that had something hidden inside. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a horse, ivory in coloration with verdant accents. "I had four of these made," she explained, "They're all white, but each has different colors for their manes, tails, saddles, and hooves. This one is Lincoln's. Red is Benjamin's, and Henry's is blue. Mine is purple. They're just like the ones that we hung on the tree back home."

With a delicate and deliberate motion, she hung the glimmering sphere on the tree. It cast refracted light in any which direction, the tiny beams adding a luminous quality to the fake branches. 

"I like to think they've got mine hanging on their tree. It just... makes me feel closer to them. I need that, especially this time of year." Surprisingly vulnerable. It was the sort of intimate detail that Bahr wasn't used to hearing about someone else in Aincrad. The fact that she was willing to share it with him spoke louder than the actual words themselves. But he'd been listening.

His eyes shifted back to the box, and he immediately caught a hint of what he was looking for. The rays of light it cast were easy to pick out. The orb he had plucked from the box appeared to be Benjamin's - which of course only seemed fitting. Bahr had naturally gravitated toward the red. He approached Lessa from behind, a warm hand finding its way to her shoulder with a comforting squeeze. "They do," he reassured her before placing the sphere in her palm and folding her fingers over it. With another brief squeeze, he withdrew his hand and returned to the unfolding mess behind them.

Lights. They really needed to throw lights up on this tree. Bahr couldn't wait to see what sort of glow these instruments produced in unison with direct light around them. His hands found the crows nest of lights that Lessa had been fiddling with earlier, and his fingers got to work. It wasn't an easy endeavor, by any means. Nor was it a quick one. But one way or another, the string unraveled. By the time he was finished, the tree looked a bit more full than it had before.

"Okay, new rule for your for cleanup this year after the holidays are over," he chided playfully, meandering over to the tree with the untangled lights clutched between his fingers. "We're spooling this around some cardboard or something. I haven't untangled cord lights like this in years, and I'd forgotten how unreasonably frustrating it can be." He let out a chuckle to assure her that he was joking before holding out an end of the rope for her to hold. "Here, take this. We'll throw them up however you like."

[Lessa 1]

Lessa looked down at the ornament in her hand, and her fingers tightened just a bit more around it's fragile form. Though she had no intention of breaking the decoration, she found it oddly comforting, and clutching it somehow settled her. Red had always been Ben's color: his bike, his cereal bowl, even his toothbrush. In a home with four rambunctious kids, that tiny shred of organization helped keep the family on track. If in doubt, everything had a place, and everyone had a color. Red was for Ben, but... Lessa glanced down at the long red coat that still hung over her wide shoulders. Then, she turned to Bahr. He was fiddling the the same ball of tangled lights that had outsmarted her,  his Christmas eyes sharp and focused, his brow furrowed in concentration. Maybe it could be his color, too.

Riker trudged over to the couch with his head drooped and his tail dangling limply. He gave a half-hearted shake, leaped onto the couch, and plopped down atop a mound of pastel pillows. He heaved a massive yawn, barring sharp white teeth that glimmered in the light. That reminded her - where was Bahr's familiar? Instinctively, her hand flew to the coat's deep pocket, where the pig enjoyed hunkering down. She was somewhat relieved to find it empty, considering how she'd sat on that particular part of the jacket for much of the evening. If she'd squashed the shrimpy swine, she'd never forgive herself.

Fortunately, she spotted the tiny thing pacing in front of the couch, unable to make the same leap it's friend had made. "Aww," Lessa breathed, bending to brush Swine Bajesus into her cupped hands. Slowly, gently, she nestled the tiny pig alongside the massive wolf. Her heart nearly melted as Riker's tail settled around Bajesus' miniature body. What a surprising pair, she thought, swelling with admiration, as she shifted to look at Bahr. 

After a dozen more ornaments adorned the tree, Bahr offered her the other end of the lights. "There's no reason why I can't just call on you to help me untangle them next year," she teased back, reaching through the prickly boughs. Lessa glanced over her shoulder at Bahr, still elbow-deep in pine needles, and asked, "Is this what Christmas was like with your family?"

[Bahr 0]

"Is this what Christmas was like with your family?"

"Ehhh, not exactly. They were never really the sort to decorate for the holidays," he answered as he stood patiently, serving as the rope light dispenser for their shared endeavor. "Our tree was always filled with knick knacks, though. Truly bizarre stuff. My mom had a thing for dinosaurs, so there's just a ton of translucent glass dinosaurs dangling throughout the tree. All sorts of colors, too. Red, purple, blue, orange. Like a rainbow of reptiles."

It seemed that she'd finished assembling the lights, so Bahr stepped over to plug them in and, all at once, the tree came to life. The soft golden glow that the lights offered the tree was absolutely magnificent, but the way the tree looked didn't hold a candle to the way the light played in her azure eyes. 

"She also kept all of the ornaments I made her over the years," he continued as he reached back into the box and retrieved as many ornaments as he could wrap his fingers around. He almost looked as though he could begin juggling at any minute. "God, I remember this one. Goofy as hell. It was a popsicle stick with balls of cotton glued to it. Crude black paper cut into little wedges and stuck to the cotton to represent its 'gloves,' 'buttons,' 'eyes,' 'smile,' 'hat.' I made it for her when I was five, and I'm positive she still has it hanging up." 

What a bittersweet notion, to imagine they were still doing things like that on the other side. He hoped it was true.

"Anyways, that was as far as we ever took it. We never did any lights on the outside of the house, or anything like that. Well, my dad did one year, but never again. It was a serious hassle."

[Lessa 1]

The laughter poured from her lips with the same ease and sweetness at the lemonade from her pitcher. The sound was enough to prod Riker into opening one eye, just to check on his friend, before it closed once more. "I can't get enough of that visual," she managed, absolutely beaming. "Little preschool Apollo, sitting at one of those tiny toddler tables, doing arts and crafts." If it were possible, her smile grew even wider as she added, "Probably covered in glue and glitter."

Lessa moved from him to the tree, and after hanging a silver bulb on a low branch, she studied their progress. The fir held mostly simple, colored spheres, as that was what was readily available in Aincrad. Her four custom-made ornaments hung near the top, catching and throwing the soft light of the tiny criss-crossing bulbs. Still, even with the uniformity in the ornaments, the tree was perfectly imperfect. The colors weren't spread out, nor were the decorations distributed evenly. The lights were a bit heavier near the bottom, as they'd begun to run out near the top. And the whole thing tilted slightly to the right. It was better than she could have imagined.

Her hands went to her hips as she conducted a final survey. "Could use a few more dinosaurs," she mused, turning to Bahr. "And maybe a cotton ball snowman. But I think it's far better than anything I could have managed on my own."

Finally, she gave in to her need to be near him, and walked over to his side. One arm slipped around his waist, and she leaned against him as she looked at the product of their combined efforts. "Pretty sure there's still a couple of weeks until the big day, but this has already been the best Christmas in a really long time."

[Bahr 0]

His arm slid around her instinctively as she pressed into him, hand hanging off of her hip as he allowed his head to come to a rest on hers. He would never get tired of that, the closeness. He pulled her into a soft squeeze, letting out a sigh now that their work was complete. Unlike most things in Aincrad, the tree was imperfect in a completely unique way. Their way. But now that it was done, it meant that it was time to say goodbye.

Just a little longer.

"Pretty sure there's still a couple of weeks until the big day, but this has already been the best Christmas in a really long time."

He huffed through his nose, a tired half laugh. "Yeah, same here. Wouldn't want it any other way."

They lingered there for awhile, just holding one another and enjoying their shared presence, marveling at their creation. He could have- probably should have left earlier. But a big part of him never wanted to let her go. Tender moments like these were so rare in a place like this, and to pass them by or rush them was a mistake. So they stood together and enjoyed it for a bit longer.

The people really were his favorite thing about Aincrad. One in particular.