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morefictionlesslife · 2 years

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SINF Trope Week Day 6: Proposal/First Kiss

Aoife/Niten

Aoife was tired. She had been fighting for a long time. At least that’s how it felt like. It could have been hours, days, or even weeks. But it was all fine as long as she could keep this filthy abomination, that happened to be the creator of her species, away from her twin, Scathach. She was a warrior, who has been through much more, she was sure of it.

As two snake headed Mother of All Gods stung her once more in her left arm, she thought she saw something flash on their right. However, she didn’t have the time to confirm her suspicions for she was fighting for her life. Aoife crouched down to dodge another attack form Coatlicue’s right head, that was trying to bite her.

The Shadowrealm they were currently in, was one of the most boring looking ones Aoife had ever had the unfortunate pleasure of visiting. On this flat stone surface without any nature or buildings time seemed to have stopped. There were only two fighters on the horizon. In an uncontrolled moment Aoife’s mind slipped to a beautiful realm she and Niten had visited a few years prior to the events in San Francisco. This place had reminded her of her homeland, but without the wet part. Extraordinary mountains had surrounded a low valley, which was covered in the sea of multicoloured flowers, and a stream made it seem almost magical. Or at least that was how Niten had described it. Aoife herself kept quiet, but right now she would give her best throwing knife to be back in this Shadowrealm. She could use a good drink from the river. Fortunately, she didn’t have to drink as frequently as humans did, but having to fight Coatlicue had made her thirsty. And not only for her blood. She remembered how Niten had commented about her distaste for wetness and the irony of having born in today’s Scotland’s area. She had only snapped at him and demanded what was so great about constant rain. He had laughed his quiet laugh. It had made Aoife less angry and then she was angry at herself for not being angry at him. She indeed had grown a soft spot for the Japanese immortal.

Niten.

A name that would come to mean so much to her, not that she would ever admit it to anyone, much less to herself. When she fought him and won, she adds helpfully every time they bring it up, they became equals, partners in crime. They became friends.

Only one Aoife had had since she was a little girl was Scathach. And then they went separate ways because of a stupid fight. Aoife had yelled at herself for letting one boy get in between them. But it had happened and somewhere along the way she felt unworthy of her sister’s forgiveness. She suffered in silence believing she deserved to be hated for all eternity. That didn’t stop her from loving Scathach and looking out for her in the shadows.

And then she found herself sharing the same adventures as the Japanese immortal. Enjoying them. Looking forward to harder challenges for she had a friend by her side. Until…she felt more.

They were on the run in a junglelike Shadowrealm called Rika. Chasing them were hundreds of shadowmonsters with their red bleeding eyes and ridiculous long capes, that made it very easy for the immortals to use them as grabbing points in a fight. They ran because the tactician Niten had suggested it to be the better decision. Aoife wanted to face them, but seeing man’s face had made her swallow her pride and agree to his plan.

They were a few steps away from the leygate, that would transport them back to Earth Shadowrealm, when Niten, the idiot, trying to shield the woman from oncoming hail of arrows got hit by the poisonous arrow. It teared his right shoulder to pieces as they stepped through the open gate. It closed quickly behind them.

Aoife heart, if she had one, stopped and for one horrifying moment, she thought she was going to destroy this realm for killing Niten. She was wrong about one thing. Niten didn’t die. He did spent weeks on a bed rest and took this time to catch up on his reading. Aoife nurtured him back to health. She told herself she did it because he had sacrificed himself for her and the man in question got the most terrifying talk of his life for that little stunt, but the truth of this situation was building up inside the warrior.

She liked Niten. And would prefer if nothing happened to him in the foreseeable future. They both were no fools and had dedicated their entire lives, many lives, to fighting. They knew that one day, they would die. But she was selfish and preferred to die first. After that revelation Niten had basically forced her to agree to do a favour for him. He wanted to be buried in Japan, his homeland. The man hoped that if she had an obligation to him, then maybe she would not be so careless with her own life.

The second thing did happen, thought. She raised that place to the ground. She got satisfying pleasure of introducing her reputation in that Shadowrealm. Even if it was relevant only as long as she needed to finish the job and wipe this realm off the face of the earth. And it was not quick. She took her sweet time.

After that ordeal, things went back to as normal as they could be, but a tiny voice inside Aoife’s head and heart was saying the most idiotic things, which the woman learned to ignore. She would not want to ruin easy companionship she had with him for another stupid fight that could cost him like it had her sister. What if Niten would never speak to her again? Would never trust her again? Would never see her as a friend again? They were immortal warriors and one of them was an unfeeling vampire, they had no time for romance.

That didn’t stop her from buying him gifts and looking after him. One time Aoife had not heard from the Japanese immortal for almost a decade and decided to look for him. She found him painting a boat in the New World. It was green. It was always green. Embarrassing thought came to her mind, when she contemplated whether it had anything to do with her eye colour. After hearing Niten’s thorough explanation about the nature and all its glory he was trying to capture, she hit herself with her nunchaku for hoping and promised to bury every single inappropriate feeling she had for the man deep inside her heart. Because bleeding that way was less painful than hearing spiteful words of disgust from Niten’s lips that she was sure would eventually come, if he was to discover her secret.

One comforting thought she had when dodging another vicious attack from Coatlicue was that this creature was stuck with her and not with Scathach or Niten. Her body was worn out a long time ago, but she kept slashing at the creature with knives and occasionally she would twist her two ugly heads making the goddess scream.

Their fight had lasted too long. In some breathing pauses (not that she used it for breathing) Aoife got, she examined the surroundings for a way out. There was nothing. Just a flat plane for miles on end on every side. At least there was no way for Coatlicue to escape either.

Aoife lived up to reputation when she finally pierced through the creatures left head. Howl threatened to make her deaf, but she just took the opportunity to slice through the second head within moments after the first one, killing the Mother of All Gods.

Aoife smiled viciously.

Part of her was disappointed. She had hoped for more of a challenge. It had been so long she had participated in a proper fight. It had been decent, but nothing special. Nothing she couldn’t handle. Another part, the part she didn’t acknowledge, was glad to have a chance to lay down and gather her strength.

Only when she had made sure that there were no bad surprises (she hated those) in this godforsaken Shadowrealm, she allowed herself to sit. Her black clothes were nothing more than rags and her red hair as messy as it could go. Aoife turned her head getting a better look than she had in the fight.

She decided that this Shadowrealm was truly as distasteful and ugly as it seemed before. She pursed her lips when she hopped up and began exploring. As she did just that, her mind went to back to Dee’s office and words she had said to the little human girl, Sophie. Had she found Scathach yet and told her about Aoife’s last words or not? She doubted that. Vampire hoped that at least Sophie was reunited with Josh. She knew the pain caused by being separated from your twin better than anyone.

Something flickered again and this time she was ready to get to the bottom of this. Taking on her fighting stance she turned to her left and followed the light on the horizon. It reminded her of the Lia Fáil in Tir Tairngaire. It, too, had called for her with a mysterious light.

It didn’t seem to get any bigger despite her having walked for quite some time. But the Shadowrealm didn’t keep her in the dark for long. Literally.

She felt the flat surface beginning to shake. Earthquake? She wasn’t sure, but before she had time to rethink her position and approach to this new situation, the earth below her feet opened. Aoife had managed, because of her good reflexes, to jump back. But it was a close call.

A big white rock rose from the ground. It revealed itself to be some sort of gate made from a rock that resembled marble. It had a gold inscription written on it. The warrior in front of the gate could not read it. It could have belonged to the Ancients, but she wasn’t certain.

Aoife.

A voice came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It was in her head and surrounding her at the same time. A confusing thing. And Aoife hated confusing things. So, she demanded: “Who are you?” She squeezed her two remining knives and held her body ready for battle. Though she had never fought with a voice before, she was willing to try. Aoife of the Shadows circled around the gate, but detected nothing moving.

It is not important, who or what I am, but what I can give you.

Aoife grinned: “And I know that there are no free gifts. If you think me stupid enough to agree to your generous offer, whatever it may be, then you can…” Before she could use her new swearing skills, she learned from a sailor, when she crossed from England to the New Land in 20th century, the Voice interrupted her. She didn’t appreciate it.

You are not stupid Aoife of the Shadows. But you are a survivor. So, you should recognise your only way of getting out of here. I can get you out of here. This gate…I created it just for you.

“I have not yet had a chance to explore this wonderous,” her voice dripped with sarcasm, “Shadowrealm. In the next few moments, I could discover a way out of here and spare myself of having to repay you. So, I think I am going to pass up on your…offer,” spoke Aoife a little more confidence she had. She was not so sure she could leave this place on her own, but her pride and past experiences had made her wary of accepting help from strangers.

Really? And I thought you to be the sensible one of the twins. Should have known that you cannot be so different after all.

“What do you know about my sister?” sliced the woman’s voice trough the darkness. If anything had happened to her twin…

Currently, she is fighting on Danu Talis in the battle that would determine the course of history. It is your other half, who I would worry about.

Niten. Something had happened to Niten. No. It could be a trick. She couldn’t fall for that. And Scathach couldn’t possible have gone back in time…wait. But Sophie had mentioned it in Niten’s houseboat. But by their calculations it should have been a million or at least…eleven thousand years in the past. And Danu Talis fell about ten thousand years ago. Could it be true?

“Can you prove it?” questioned warrior still looking in the black sky and spun the knives in her hands. She did not believe this Voice one bit, but could not lie to herself that her unfeeling heart was suddenly feeling.

The gate made a noise that made Aoife turn her attention back to the beautifully carved rock in front of her. The smoke began to swirl around, and it revealed a picture. A horrifying image.

It was her beloved Niten lying dead on a bridge of some sort. His swords had fallen besides his unmoving frame. Still in his black suit, that Aoife had left him with, bleeding out in the dark night. Somebody was standing and fighting besides him. Her uncle – Prometheus. She recognised him by his red aura and armour.

Are you still doubting me?

The Voice was mocking her. “Yes. It could be fake.” She choked out these words, even when her eyes were attached to Niten. “I don’t know what awaits me behind this gate of yours.”

Then why don’t you find out? Even if it is something horrific, it is still better than staying here, where time, nature…living things do not exist. Here is nothing. Other side of it may be worse, but even you, Aoife of the Shadows, can’t escape from a place where there is nothing. You can only find a way out, not create it.

Damn it, what the Voice said, made sense. This was currently her best bet. Still, should she make this decision rashly? Probably not.

As I see you need a little push, then I, momentarily, create time.

Everything around her continued to shake and break. Huge rocks began to fall from the sky and giant fissures tore the ground in half.

Niten’s image began losing its colour. Firstly, his surroundings, the car parts, the asphalt, his swords. Then his red blood looked grey and faded. Lastly, his skin and beautiful dark blue aura darkened until Aoife saw only black colours.

Then the mirror inside the gate began to crack. A huge crack ran across Niten’s dying frame. Shards of glass broke.

I would move if I were you. I will not come return and you will not find a way out of this Shadowrealm for there is none. And, I suspect, I should mention that there will not be a Shadowrealm for you to explore by the time this gate closes.

Choose wisely.

In the end, Aoife had only one choice.

She jumped.

She landed on the Golden Gate Bridge surrounded by ruined cars. It was a fresh morning, but the peace was interrupted by constant battle sounds. Armour against a spear. A spear against a sword and a shield. A spear against flesh.

Aoife of the Shadows was like a wind when she killed the first Spartoi. He died with a surprised look on his ugly face.

“Aoife?” question Prometheus in amazement as he watched her dancing through the ranks of Spartoi with ease. The girl took care of a creature, who was currently beating her uncle, and with a regretful glance at Niten, she took off to kill the last remaining Spartoi swiftly and without mercy. She wanted to check on the man as soon as she got back to Earth, but to ensure that doing so was safe, she firstly needed to deal with the constant threat.

Four enemies still breathed. Four enemies, who had the gall to hurt Niten and her uncle. She could not let it slide. Aoife bared her vampire teeth and growled. Any other time she would have taken her time destroying these foul creatures, but right now, the time was of the essence.

One Spartoi tried his luck by running away from the warrior, but it, unsurprisingly, didn’t work. Aoife sprinted after the foul looking creature. She was running after the lost looking Spartoi when she smelled it – jasmine. Her old teacher.

Tsagaglalal stormed onto the bridge like a spring storm. Her fury equalled even to Aoife’s. She nodded to the younger in bewilderment, but didn’t stop for a second. Three Spartoi fell under her kopesh like cutting through butter.

Prometheus collided with the ground as soon as he allowed himself a rest. His aura was gone, and armour faded into nothingness. Now, he was just an old man without a Shadowrealm, who had against all odds seen his beloved relative miraculously return from an impenetrable Shadowrealm and wanted to give her a piece of advice. Or a good beating for not noticing her man’s affections. For being an absolute moron.

Aoife flew to Niten’s side as soon as she was finished slashing through the last Spartoi and gathered the head of the Japanese between her hands. She checked for pulse, but… No. That was not possible. This was Miyamoto Musashi. This was Niten. World could change a thousand times over and he would still be the same old Niten, waiting for her in some quiet corner of the world and give her the best fruits when she was feeling particularly bad, or it was raining. He would listen to her complaints about something idiotic, that they would forget about the next day. He accepted her Charlotte Brontë’s “The Professor” a month too late and didn’t say a word. It had taken her a year to realise her mistake.

Aoife had even bought a gift for this year. It was a small paintbrush with a box of 15 different shades of green to choose from. She had planned to tell him, that if he didn’t find the perfect green from the nature or from a store, then why not mix many shades together. To create the perfect one just for him. Aoife was unsure if this method even worked, but she had already purchased the set.

So, he could not die right now. It was not the right moment. It was never the right moment.

“Niten?” asked Aoife in a small, trembling voice. She put pressure on the wounds and began making bandages from her own rags. Prometheus pulled himself besides the pair and was met with the red eyes of his relative. Blood tears ran over her face, making their way down to the cold bridge floor. Aoife hadn’t even noticed them. Tears were so alien to her that she didn’t even know to wait for them. Didn’t know what shedding tears felt like.

“Come on. You didn’t finish talking about your car interest and this collection of yours. I will kill you if I don’t get to know where it is now and how you got some of them swindled by some amateurs. You have not yet given me their names. And I don’t care that they are old or already dead,” threatened the woman in her mother tongue, while wrapping him up in makeshift bandages. Her hands trembled, but she paid them no heed.

He could not be gone. No. He had to come back to her. “Please.” She didn’t realise that the pleading had come from her mouth. She didn’t plead. But for Niten…

Her uncle grabbed her right hand tightly and murmured: “I don’t think that bandages are going to help him.” His own heart went out for the pair because, if it ended here, they never got to express their feelings until it was too late.

“You are right, father. He is already dead,” said a sweet voice behind them in the lost language of Danu Talis. Tsagaglalal wore a white ceramic tread. Very nice design indeed, would the redhead have thought, if her green eyes would have left the man’s still frame, which was laying in her lap.

Aoife snarled: “No! There is always something we can do.” As her own expertise was rather focused on sending everyone to death and she knew very little about spells, she asked the other for help. “Isn’t there a spell or some kind of aura thingy we can use?” She pushed his bloodsoaked hair away from his shallow face.

“There is, and I was about to explain it, but you interrupted,” said the older carefully as if not to spook the vampire even more. She crouched down in front of Niten, analysed the situation and sat down crossed-legged.

“Let him go,” ordered Tsagaglalal.

The vampire asked: “Can you save him?”

“Yes. If I had to resurrect the both of you, I fear I would not have had power to do that. Thankfully, you arrived at the right moment,” she said to Aoife.

Tsagaglalal closed her eyes and stretched out her right arm. Within seconds a pool of Prometheus’s red aura was gathered in her hand. Anise aroma was all around them, in the air, in their mouth and in their hair. Aoife almost coughed, but when her teacher opened her eyes, all she could focus on was how she poured the liquid down Niten’s throat.

Aoife, impatient as she was, wasn’t satisfied with just waiting and wanted something to happen right away, so she began calling out to him: “Niten?”

Nothing.

“Niten?” she asked more forcefully and gently took hold of his shoulders as he was still injured. And would be even more when Aoife was done with him. The other two watched, how the immortal warrior showed genuine fear for what seemed like the first time ever. The woman herself knew that not to be true. There was this one time she was also scared; it was going to rain during a battle she really didn’t want to miss.

“Aoife?” murmured weak voice from a broken body, that had slowly started to heal.

“You idiot. Who gave you the right to die?” yelled Aoife angrily, but relief washed over her as soon as he opened his dark weary eyes and took her in.

Niten smiled, although his teeth were covered in blood: “You are here.” Aoife had not seen an image so beautiful before. She helped him to sit, but Niten was content to stay laying down on a ruined bridge looking at his beloved Aoife. But having her arms around him wasn’t a bad alternative as he gravitated towards her smaller frame. Niten was not yet strong enough to hold himself up without a little help from the girl. Aoife indulged him.

“I am,” whispered vampire into his ear and, if it was possible, blushed. Not that anyone saw, because in a moment of weakness, she crushed the man against her and held him there. Niten put his head onto the redhead’s shoulder and stroked her back with his good hand. The Japanese immortal carefully avoided those spots where her bare flesh was exposed, which reminded him something.

He regretfully pulled back from her unnaturally long embrace and took her head between his hands. The wonderful man brushed away the blood tears with a frown, but as his own hands were covered in blood, he didn’t make it much better. But for her…it was everything. His left one was badly injured, but considering he had been dead a few minutes earlier, he was doing considerably better.

“How did you get out of there? I watched you get sucked into oblivion.” He recalled the instant he had seen her last on top of Coatlicue sacrificing herself to save the others. He remembered his heart shatter, but had no time for mourning. Watching Aoife now, oh how it healed his aching heart. She was back. Everything else was meaningless to Niten.

Aoife, who was frozen, because of his actions, stuttered something: “Well, there was a voice.” Niten lowered his hands as he caught his love’s cheeks turning red. The woman jumped up and pulled the man up, although his feet didn’t work and had to be supported by Aoife. Prometheus and Tsagaglalal smiled at Niten, who, after a few moments, got his footing back and lowered his head in respect.

Gazing at Aoife, who stood close in case he would stumble, he thought about her words. “ A voice?” questioned confused Niten, but the vampire only shook her head. The man recognised this deed. Aoife did it, when she was not in the mood for talking about certain things or couldn’t talk about them right this instant. They were going to discuss it later.

The Japanese immortal turned to the Elder and said with regret: “I am glad that you are safe. However, I fell before you. I am ashamed.” This time he lowered his head in shame. Aoife would have said some words to Niten, but her uncle spoke quicker.

Prometheus had none of that nonsense and put his right hand onto younger’s shoulder: “There is no shame in failing, my friend. And you fought until the honourable end.” He chuckled. “If anyone failed today, it was I. I am supposed to be the immortal Elder here, but right now, I am little more than useless old man.”

“Please do not say such things, father,” scolded Tsagaglalal the big man with a stern look.

“By the way, I specifically remember being pierce by Spartoi’s spears. How…” asked Niten softly and put his hand over his healing injury on his stomach. Aoife scowled at the memory of him being dead.

The redhead nodded to Tsagaglalal with her messy hair blowing in the morning wind. “She saved your life with my uncle’s aura.”

“I am forever in your debt, Tsagaglalal,” promised Niten respectfully bowing in front of her.

The woman smiled: “Well, it would have been complicated if both of you had been dead, I had little aura left. Like I mentioned before, it is fortunate that Aoife got here before Prometheus died as well.”

The Japanese watched the redhead with a gentle look. He looked her as if she was the sun. But for her, he was the sun, and she couldn’t bear to look straight into it, at him, so Aoife turned her head to the side to marvel at the morning view of the ocean. The bay was coloured with red and yellow colours, blending into each other. Peering at the horizon, she remembered something and thought to share such news with others. And it was certainly not because she wanted to change the subject. “Ah, by the way, I killed Coatlicue, so she will not be bothering anyone anymore. I will list it into my long list of accomplishments.”

The swordman chuckled to himself: “I knew I should have pitied her for she had to share a room with you.”

“What? You have shared a room with me!” yelled Aoife at him. But Niten had the gall to smile at the woman.

“That’s why I know.” Maybe Aoife should have left him for dead. She gritted her teeth. Prometheus laughed wholeheartedly and even Tsagaglalal grinned behind her hand she had brought to her mouth.

Aoife began to leave the bridge and trampled with her legs, so they would understand that she was still angry. Behind her retreating form, older man put an arm around Niten’s shoulders. The immortal already had an idea of what the talk would include.

“Niten, do you remember what we talked about before the fight?” The Japanese nodded and kept his eyes fixed on the redhead. “You have been given a second chance. I would settle all the old regrets, so if this happened again you would have new regrets.”

“I know.”

“And?”

“I will ask her at the opportune moment.”

“And after how many centuries would that be?” teased the Elder. “I am not the youngest anymore and want to see my beloved niece be happy with…”

“What are you talking about, old man?” shouted Aoife from far away, when the others didn’t keep pace with her. She leaned on the railing of the Golden Gate Bridge and waited for the slower ones.

“Niten will tell you soon,” winked her uncle to the blushing Japanese.

“Do you know anything about Scathach?” inquired Aoife when she had calmed down and the others had finally caught up with her.

During the walk through the city, the others gave the woman a summary of what they knew.

“So, the twins are in a battle right now, in Danu Talis? The Voice said the same about Scathach. So, it is true? They are fighting at the top of the Pyramid and decide the fate of humanity? They truly are the Twins of the Legend,” summed the woman up.

“Yes.”

Who would have thought that so much responsibility would fall on Sophie and Josh? They were not even fully trained and already fighting in the most important battle of their lives. Maybe the twins had a chance to meet Scathach. If her twin was with them, they would be safe. And the twins would look after the redhead, too. She was sometimes too reckless.

“You are hurt,” remarked Niten after Aoife massaged her sore neck, where Coatlicue had got one lucky hit. Her skin wasn’t pierced, but it did cause her considerable amount of pain.

Apparently, it was not the right thing for the man to say, because the vampire snapped back at him: “Well, I didn’t die. It is like the Rika all over again.” Niten’s eyes saddened as he pulled away, out of reach of Aoife. Great, now she felt bad. Her mood worsened with each passing step.

She truly felt like an idiot for yelling at him. He just did his duty as Aoife herself would have done.

“We are immortal warriors,” began Niten quietly. Aoife watched him, surprised and desperately trying to guess, where this strange conversation was heading.

So, she agreed cautiously: “I am well aware.” Aoife bit her nails.

The man continued gloomily and avoided her searching eyes: “But you make me nervous. Nobody would dare call me a coward, but you have a reason.” He stopped in front of a bookstore on the shores of the Pacific Ocean.

She, too, stopped and lowered her hand: “Did you hit your head?” Him and a coward? Who dares to call him that? Aoife had some personal business with those people.

“If I did it must have happened in our first battle,” the man laughed and looked up to find green eyes already fixed on him. “The book you gave me is my most precious item.” What was he talking about? Aoife was beginning to worry. Behind Niten Prometheus looked elated, gave them a…thumbs up and Tsagaglalal smiled gently. Aoife sent her uncle a thoroughly confused look.

“I did choose a good book then. Even if it was a little late,” admitted the woman. Perhaps it was time to admit her mistake. Better late, then never, right? She was still uncomfortable.

“You figured it out?” asked Niten, who gazed at her lovingly. He really shouldn’t look at her like that, lest she do something stupid like admit her feelings. Preposterous.

“Don’t worry. This year I will be on time,” tried Aoife hard to lead this weird chat somewhere safe, before she let herself hope and ended up losing him.

“It was never about the book, though I do find it an entertaining read,” said the swordman. He took two steps closer to her. “It has always been about you.”

Was it possible? That he felt the same? But he had never said anything. Never indicated she was more than a friend to him. There were so many times, she had made his life difficult and feared he would walk out of hers for that.

“The regret I had was…” he said resolutely, but then got stuck. As a tactician, he took a step back in his mind, thought about his approach and began again. This time he was going all the way.

Niten kneeled in front of her. His hands rested on his knees; dark eyes stared up to the surprised green eyes. Neither of them could look away from the other. They were under a spell. A love spell, casted by the two of them a long time ago, but not being recognised apart from the dangerous moments. And to each other…never. “There are many words, in many languages, I wanted to describe you and say to you, but right now there are none in my mind. The only thing I would like you to know is that I would be honoured if you would become my wife. Nothing has to change, I would never restrict you or expect anything, it’s just…I love you and would like to care for you until the end of time and beyond.” He took a deep breath. “That was my only regret. I thought I would die before getting to say these words to you for I have been a fool and a coward. I thought that it would sever our friendship and I could not bear it. Today I realised that anything you could say would be less painful than not saying it. You not knowing my feelings.” Swordman shifted while he waited for the most important answer of his long life.

Aoife felt a lot. Too much. She wanted to run away. She wanted to hug and kiss him. She wanted him. And that was all that mattered. Few moments ago, she had pleaded for him to return to her. And he did. What was there to wait for?

“Well, is this kneeling the best solution for healing your wounds?” said the woman. The look Niten gave her almost made her lose her footing, because the poor man probably took it as a rejection. Miyamoto Musashi was about to weep, so Aoife of the Shadows added another order as his fiancée. “So, get up because your fiancée is not going to carry you around the city if you dare pass out on a street.” The man needed to treat himself better if this was going to work. She knew very well that he has been saying this to her for centuries.

“Is it a yes?” asked the Japanese immortal hopefully, not believing it after so many years off loving her and cursing himself for not being brave enough to ask for her hand.

Sun rose from the ocean and made San Francisco glow and Niten’s smile grew until it reached his ears. Aoife hadn’t seen him smile like that. “Of course, it’s yes. It isn’t very sensible for me to disagree to marry the man I love and plan on living together with, under the same roof. Not marrying you would cause tensions and other problems. It is purely for tactical reasons, Niten. I thought you would like that.”

There. Done. It was out. She couldn’t take it back. But Niten also couldn’t take his proposal back. Right?

“I love it. I love you,” swore the man and rose to his feet. Aoife caught the sight of one tear. A happy one.

“You die again, and I will you myself,” promised the woman before she threw herself around him. She hugged him tightly with her arms around him like vices because she was never letting him walk away. Never. She loved him and he loved her, and all was right in the world in that single moment on the shores of the Pacific Ocean on a sunny morning in San Francisco.

Niten laughed: “Yes, my love.” He held her and promised to take care and love of her till the end of time. He would kill anyone, who dared to prevent that.

Aoife pulled back and without a moment of hesitation, she kissed Niten. This was her man now. She could do it freely. His lips were softer than she had anticipated when he answered in kind. Aoife’s hands found a way to his short black silky hair never mind the blood. Niten’s hands hold onto her tiny, but muscular waist as she devoured his mouth.

Chough. Aoife sent a death glare to her uncle when he interrupted the pair. Niten blushed even harder than before, but he, too, didn’t let go. He didn’t think anyone, or anything could make him let go of his love.

“Finally. I brought you a wedding gift a century ago,” commented Prometheus, who had thoroughly enjoyed one good thing that had come out of this situation. Although, seeing his niece kissing was not part of his plan. “Probably should get a new one.” Tsagaglalal watched the two lovers and remembered Abraham. They, too, had some unforgettable moments together and she sincerely hoped these two would love and cherish each other through health and sickness. If she was correct, then…they already had. Only the marriage part was missing.

“So, you knew, too,” pulled the vampire away from her love to stare at her uncle. “I am one of the participants in this relationship. Why do I get to know things last? I don’t know anything. Nobody tells me anything.” She recalled the story of Scathach and Joan and the fact that somebody, Niten, had told her that these two had been sisters by blood after…what…six centuries? Thanks for letting Scathach’s twin sister know she had shared her blood with a humani. Aoife was still salty about that. The whole world apparently knew about her and Niten, besides her.

Niten rubbed her back to calm her down: “Maybe you should ask, my love. It is an integral part of any relationship, not just in romantic ones, to ask about the other person and show interest in them.”

“I have always preferred actions over speaking,” snapped the woman, but could not be mad at him. Aoife looked into his happy smiling eyes and vowed to make him smile like that at least once every week. Every day would be better, but she was not certain about her power of making someone that happy that frequently. If it would have been about yelling in fear, that would have been entirely other thing. That, she could have done. “And if we are going to do this heart-to-heart talk here, then let me tell you, uncle, you need to buy a better car. Preferably something that drives faster than I walk. The last one you lent us was absolute trash.”

Prometheus said the same thing Niten had pointed out in the vehicle: “You were lucky that I even had a car. I considered throwing it out, but having one humani method of transportation did have its usages.”

“You do realise it’s historical value?” asked Niten from his fiancée, it sounded good, when he called her that in his mind, while brushing her spiky red hair.

Aoife turned to her fiancée, it sounded so good, when she called him that: “Hah. Historical value? I am ten thousand years old. Should I, too, must be put in a museum then, my dear fiancée?” And she was going to call him that, so the whole wide world of Earth Shadowrealm and every single one of the realms would know that they were a pair now.

Niten smiled at her.

Aoife of the Shadows, the fearless vampire warrior, smiled back.

Now she had only one other thing to do – apologise to Scathach and ask her to be her bridesmaid. Or maybe she should do things in a different order. Confuse her with her marriage and then, when she has lowered her defence, beg for forgiveness. It was, after all, tactical.

Aoife could already imagine her sister standing there in a sweet pink dress, that she hated, and promising to kill Aoife for forcing her to wear it. And, of course, her husband holding her hand. Two people she cared about the most in this world surrounding her. And her uncle drinking alcohol in the corner.

#sinf #sinftropeweek2022 #aoife #niten #secrets of the immortal nicholas flamel #proposal/first kiss #aoife/niten #prometheus #tsagaglalal

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