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The days that followed settled into something soft.

Not courtship.

Not quite friendship anymore either.

Something quieter.

Something growing carefully between them in the spaces neither man quite knew how to name.

Each morning, Toryn arrived at the forge before sunrise, shoulders broad beneath soot-dark work clothes, scales catching faint copper in the dawn light as he helped Master Hallik haul coal and prepare the furnaces.

The forge became brutally hot by midday.

Hammer strikes rang through Grovehollow from morning until dusk, sparks spraying gold through the air while iron screamed beneath the anvil.

The work was hard.

Honest.

Tiring in the best possible way.

And sometime around noon now—without fail—the forge door would creak open just enough for a familiar pale face to peek cautiously inside.

Cass never entered fully. Not once,

Toryn noticed that immediately.

The healer lingered near the doorway instead, one hand curled around a basket or wrapped parcel while heat and noise rolled toward him from inside the workshop. The clang of metal still made him tense sometimes. Raised voices from the workers could make his shoulders tighten before he caught himself.

But he came anyway.

Every day.

That mattered more than Toryn knew how to explain.

“There he is,” boomed Master Hallik one afternoon before Toryn even looked up from the horseshoe he was shaping. “Your little songbird’s here again.”

Heat crawled up beneath Toryn’s scales instantly.

“He is not my anything,” Toryn muttered.

Hallik barked a laugh loud enough to shake the rafters.

“Aye. And I’m a court dancer.”

The other workers snorted.

Toryn glared across the forge while trying—and failing—not to glance immediately toward the doorway.

Cass stood there clutching a wrapped cloth bundle to his chest, visibly uncertain beneath the attention now turning his way.

The healer offered an awkward little wave.

Gods.

Toryn abandoned the anvil immediately.

“You could ignore him,” called another smith from nearby.

Bram.

Broad-shouldered and curly-haired, with burn scars up one arm and a grin permanently threatening trouble. Bram had taken to pestering Toryn almost as enthusiastically as Hallik did.

“Could,” Toryn growled.

“But won’t,” Bram finished smugly.

Hallik crossed his thick arms over his chest. “Strange. Never seen you move that fast for lunch before.”

Toryn considered violence briefly.

Cass looked horrified by the teasing. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt—”

“You didn’t,” Toryn said immediately, reaching him at the doorway.

His tone softened automatically near Cass in ways that no one at the forge was failing to notice anymore.

Behind him, Bram made exaggerated gagging sounds.

Hallik smacked the back of his head.

Cass’s mouth twitched despite himself.

“You brought food again,” Toryn said quietly.

Cass nodded, holding out the bundle. “Well yes. I’m assuming you forgot breakfast this morning.”

Toryn blinked.

Gods.

The cloth bundle was still warm when Toryn took it carefully from his hands.

The scent hit immediately.

Honey.

Cinnamon.

Toryn stared down at it.

“Honey cakes?” he asked.

Cass looked suddenly shy. “I made extra.”

“Extra!?,” Hallik repeated loudly from across the forge. “Curious how the extra always ends up with Toryn. He’d better share if he knows what good for him.”

Cass turned pink instantly.

Bram leaned against a nearby worktable with wicked delight. “Oh, leave them be. It’s sweet.”

Toryn shot them both a murderous look powerful enough to flatten lesser men.

Neither smith looked remotely intimidated.

If anything, Hallik seemed delighted.

Cass hid a smile behind one hand.

Toryn nearly forgot how to breathe.

“You should eat before it cools,” Cass said softly.

Toryn unwrapped the cloth carefully.

The honey cakes were golden brown and slightly uneven around the edges, clearly homemade. Still warm enough for steam to curl faintly into the air.

He took one cautious bite.

And immediately understood Hallik’s obsession.

The outside had the slightest crispness while the inside stayed soft and rich with honey sweetness.

Toryn stared at it in stunned silence.

“Well?” Cass asked, trying not to look too hopeful.

Toryn swallowed slowly.

“…I understand why Hallik threatens murder over these.”

Cass laughed softly, bright and surprised.

The sound hit Toryn directly in the chest.

“There it is,” Bram muttered dramatically to the others. “That look again.”

“What look?” asked a younger apprentice named Fen.

“The one like he’d fight a dragon for him.”

“I have fought dragons,” Toryn muttered absently before realizing what he’d admitted.

The entire forge burst into laughter.

Even Cass.

Gods help him, especially Cass.

The healer lingered only a little while longer near the doorway while Toryn ate. He spoke quietly with Hallik about salves for burns, accepted thanks from Fen for fixing a cut on his hand earlier that week, and carefully avoided standing too close to the roaring furnaces themselves.

Toryn noticed all of it.

The subtle caution.

The measured distance.

The way loud hammer strikes still made Cass flinch faintly when he wasn’t expecting them.

But the healer stayed longer each day now.

Little by little.

Trust built slowly.

Like repairing cracked stone.

That evening, as with most lately, Toryn found himself walking the familiar path to Cass’s cottage after work.

The healer greeted him from the garden this time, sleeves rolled and dirt smudged lightly across one pale cheek.

Toryn stared perhaps a second too long.

Cass noticed immediately and flushed.

“What?”

“There’s dirt on your face.”

“Oh.” Cass rubbed at the wrong cheek instantly.

Toryn stepped closer before thinking.

“Other side.”

Cass froze.

So did Toryn.

The moment hung strangely between them.

Then, very carefully, Toryn reached out and brushed the dirt away with the rough pad of his thumb.

Cass went utterly still beneath the touch.

Toryn could feel the warmth of his skin for one impossible heartbeat before he pulled away again.

“…There,” he said roughly.

Cass blinked at him.

Blue eyes wide.

“Oh.”

Toryn immediately turned toward the broken section of porch railing he’d promised to repair because suddenly looking directly at Cass felt dangerous.

Behind him, he heard the healer trying—and failing—not to smile.

The sound followed Toryn all evening while he worked.

And later, after supper, when Cass played quietly beneath lantern light while Toryn repaired a loose cabinet hinge inside the cottage, the Dragonborn found himself realizing something terrifying.

He had begun measuring his days by the moments he would see Cass again.

-

By the time Toryn left the forge one of those evenings, the sky had already begun to soften toward dusk.

The village market was closing for the night.

Vendors packed crates and folded cloth awnings while lanterns slowly flickered to life along the crooked streets of Grovehollow.

Toryn rarely lingered there.

Crowds still made him restless.

But tonight he stopped.

Because Toryn remembered Cass talking about flowers he’d wanted and the thought hadn't left his mind since.

Delicate things with blue petals and silver veins that only fully opened at night.

So now he stood awkwardly in front of the flower vendor with soot still dusting his arms and enough muscle and scars to frighten half the marketplace.

The elderly half elf woman behind the stall eyed him cautiously.

“…Can I help you?”

Toryn stared at the flowers like they might attack him.

“The blue ones.”

“The moonbells?”

He nodded once.

“How many?”

Toryn frowned.

How many flowers was one supposed to give someone?

Gods.

“Enough.”

The woman blinked.

“…Enough for what?”

Toryn considered simply leaving forever.

Eventually he muttered, “A bouquet.”

The woman’s expression shifted slowly.

Then softened all at once with unmistakable understanding.

“Oh.”

Which somehow felt worse.

Ten agonizing minutes later, Toryn left clutching a carefully wrapped bundle of moonbells while the vendor wore the most knowing smile he had ever seen in his life.

By the time he reached Cass’s cottage, twilight had settled fully over the forest edge.

Warm lantern light glowed faintly through the windows.

But the front door sat slightly ajar.

Toryn stopped immediately.

Every instinct sharpened.

“Cass?”

No answer.

The Dragonborn pushed the door open carefully.

Inside, the cottage was empty.

A kettle still rested warm over fading coals.

One book lay open on the table beside Cass’s abandoned reading glasses.

His satchel remained hanging near the door.

Toryn’s pulse quickened.

“Cassius!”

Still nothing.

The flowers bent slightly beneath the tightening grip of his claws.

He stepped back outside, scanning the darkening treeline.

No signs of struggle.

No blood.

No overturned earth.

But unease crawled beneath his scales anyway.

Cass would not simply leave his door open this close to nightfall.

Toryn inhaled slowly.

And caught the scent immediately.

Lavender soap.

River water.

Cassius.

Faint but unmistakable on the evening breeze.

Relief hit first.

Then irritation.

Toryn followed the trail through the trees with quick, silent steps.

The deeper forest dimmed rapidly beneath the thick canopy overhead. Crickets hummed. Leaves whispered softly in the wind.

The scent grew stronger near the river.

Then he heard it.

Water moving gently over stone.

Toryn slowed.

And stepped through the final curtain of branches.

The sight before him stole the breath straight from his lungs.

Cass stood waist-deep in the river beneath the fading violet sky.

Naked.

Silver-blue moonlight spilled across pale skin and wet golden hair while the current curled softly around him. His head tilted back slightly as he rinsed water from his face, utterly unaware he was being watched.

Toryn forgot how to breathe.

Good Gods.

Cass looked—

Beautiful was too small a word for it.

The river shimmered around him like liquid glass. Droplets traced slowly down the line of his throat and shoulders. His hair clung damply to pale skin while the last light of evening painted him in silver and blue.

Toryn’s entire body locked up.

His gaze jerked away instantly.

Then back despite himself.

Then away again.

Heat flooded violently beneath his scales.

He should leave.

Immediately.

Instead he barked out, far rougher than intended:

“Have you completely lost your mind?”

Cass yelped so hard he nearly slipped beneath the water.

“Toryn?!”

The human whirled toward shore with eyes wide in horror.

“Toryn, what are you doing here?!”

“I came to your cottage,” Toryn snapped, already striding toward the riverbank. “Your door was open. You were gone. It’s nearly dark.”

Cass immediately sank deeper into the water until only his shoulders remained visible.

His face was scarlet.

“I was bathing!”

“In the middle of the forest!?”

“It’s a river!”

“It’s dangerous.”

Cass blinked at him. “Dangerous?”

“Yes, dangerous!”

Toryn was fully angry now, though most of the anger came from the cold terror he’d felt finding the cottage empty.

“You came out here alone,” he growled. “At dusk. Without telling anyone.”

Cass stared at him incredulously from the water.

“It’s ten minutes from the village.”

“That means nothing.”

“Toryn—”

“There are wolves deeper north. Wild boars near the eastern ridge. Gods know what else after dark.”

Cass crossed his arms over the waterline defensively. “I have been bathing here for years.”

“And that is reckless.”

Cass’s eyes narrowed slightly now, embarrassment beginning to give way to irritation.

“I did not realize I required supervision to wash myself.”

Toryn exhaled sharply through his nose.

“That isn’t what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

Toryn opened his mouth.

Closed it again.

Because the truth sounded dangerously close to panic.

I thought something happened to you.

I was afraid.

Instead he gestured harshly toward the trees.

“You leave your door open, disappear into the woods alone, and expect no one to worry?”

Cass froze slightly.

The anger in Toryn’s voice cracked just enough for the fear beneath it to show through.

The river fell quiet between them.

Toryn looked away first, jaw tight.

Only then did he remember the flowers still crushed awkwardly in one massive hand.

Cass noticed too.

Blue eyes widened.

“…Are those moonbells?”

Gods damn it.

Toryn followed Cass’s gaze downward.

To the crushed bouquet still trapped awkwardly in his hand.

The moonbells looked significantly less romantic now that he was standing at the edge of a river barking at a naked healer like an angry guard dog.

For one horrifying moment, Toryn considered throwing himself directly into the river and allowing the current to take him.

Instead he held the flowers out stiffly.

“They’re for you.”

Cass blinked.

The irritation lingering in his expression vanished instantly, replaced by startled softness.

“For… me?”

“You said you liked them.”

Toryn could physically feel how inadequate that sounded.

Cass stared at the bouquet in complete silence.

The pale blue petals had opened further now in the deepening dusk, releasing a faint sweet scent into the cool evening air.

“You brought me flowers,” Cass said quietly.

Toryn cleared his throat roughly.

“Yes.”

A pause.

Then, because apparently his pride had not suffered enough tonight:

“You still should not be out here alone.”

Cass made a strangled sound halfway between a laugh and disbelief.

“Toryn.”

“It’s reckless.”

“You give me flowers and then resume scolding me.”

“You can be pleased about the flowers and safer in the future.”

Cass actually laughed then.

Soft and helpless and beautiful.

Gods.

Toryn was beginning to suspect he would survive neither the laughter nor the flowers nor the river and especially no the gorgeous naked man infront of him.

Cass shook his head slowly, wet hair clinging to his shoulders as amusement warmed his features.

“You sound like an overprotective parent.”

“I sound reasonable.”

“You sound impossible!”

“And you sound reckless.”

Cass smiled despite himself, blue eyes bright in the fading light.

The sight of that smile loosened something tight inside Toryn’s chest.

Then Cass hesitated.

His gaze flicked once toward the water surrounding him before returning carefully to Toryn.

A faint flush crept slowly across his cheeks again.

“…Would you like to join me?”