“You said this evening could be all about my heart’s desires.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Charentais rogueish smile might have been enough to bring any Courser back to foalhood, knock-kneed and uncertain, “Lucky for us both that I’m everything your heart desires.”

“Careful,” Lonicera warned, bumping against his shoulder as she passed with affection that bordered on indignation, “While that might work on Triomph, I won’t let you off so easily.”

The smile that came from him then was softer, “Of course not.”

She stepped lightly, following an unfamiliar path towards the great twisting tree that had no business stretching its great roots across the dungeon, and here it remained all the same. It had become a place almost sacred to Lonicera.

No matter how the dungeon tried to hide it from her, the heartwood always called her back.

This was the first night she would introduce Charen.

“Wow,” he whispered. Whether it was genuine awe or a play to appease Loni, her eyes flashed approval all the same.

“Come here,” she told him, coming to a halt beneath the vast canopy that rustled with a breeze that should not be.

Though the foliage did not sing for him in the same way, it was clear to him what this meant to Lonicera without the need for her to say a word.

“It’s home,” he said as she pressed her forehead to his, and agreed, “Yes.”

They entangled themselves beneath the impossible tree, stretches of comfortable silence broken with conversation both idle and not as they enjoyed both the atmosphere and the company.

“Are you happy?” Lonicera asked, nearly abruptly as Charen had only half-begun the tale of Macedon’s latest misadventure attempting to leap across a sudden chasm.

He considered her, knowing to answer too quick would lose him whatever had spurred the question outright, “As happy as anyone,” Charen said, head tilting in curiosity for her explanation.

“Mmm,” she hummed, withholding it for longer, pulling her head back to better see him, “I think I am happier.”

Charen grinned, “It’s a competition?”

“Yes, and I have won.”

He laughed as she settled her weight back into him, “Only for now,” he acquiesced rubbing his nose fondly across her neck, “You know how poor a loser I am.”  

Lonicera hummed along with the rustle of the leaves, leaning into his touch.

“I do.”