Even though he was wracked with hunger, Otto still found himself turning to face
Liviana when he heard the familiar tune of her voice again. Her words caught him by surprise enough to elicit a slight flushing of his cheeks, especially at the gratitude.
"It wasn't as though I did it alone," he said, his eyes matching hers for a brief moment. He smiled warmly, then turned back to pool, watching as the fae approached the pool. His heart ached with a wondering of her, questions he wanted desperately to ask, but knew he couldn't, not now. It wasn't fair to ask who she'd been before, not when it might bring up some kind of painful memory, and not when he didn't deserve to know. Even so, she was strikingly beautiful in the sunset to his eyes, orange on silver that made her look like the coming autumn, which reddened his face slightly more. For however good he might have been at sweet-talking the women of the upper class, Liviana must have been doubly good at doing so to the men, he thought, or anyone she wanted for that matter.
The thought of Marjorie dashed those thoughts though, and instead made him sick to his stomach. Beauty was what had gotten him here in the first place.
"I suppose so!" Otto laughed, willing his weary body to go and collect tinder and a few spare logs. "Where'd you learn how to fish, anyway? The Regisfords' private lake?"
He stopped when she settled down, however, where he was kneeling by the fire and striking two stones together to attempt a spark. For all his prowess as a dashing thief, he wasn't much of an outdoorsman, although this only seemed to amuse his companion, even though his stomach was far less appreciative. But when the former spy spoke, he found himself looking around just as she did, feeling that same sense of wonder as the sun dipped further down. Fireflies blinked around them now in the growing dusk, flashing over the grass and pond.
Yet for all that beauty, it was her he'd turn to look at as she announced her wishes, and he thought perhaps for a moment that he would give all of it away to live his life in a cage if he could simply possess her for a time, however fleeting. "Yes, someday," he agreed, his hands forgetting the stones. "For all the pomp and decorum of those hallowed halls we both walked, adorned with the most luxurious and expensive of decorations, we both learned that there was an ugliness in that place that haunted the walkways and rooms. It came in vicious whispers and the public abuses, and now, we know that there was something far worse going on beneath that deadly beauty..."
He sighed, wiping away a tear from the corner of his eye, which now shimmered as he gazed out across the pond.
"Yes, peace," he nodded, looking back to her. "A peace for you and me. For Otto and Liviana, the survivors." He found his head was gravitating towards hers of its own accord, as the volume of his voice hushed some. "For the dashing rogue and the alluring spy, a home to rest their feet at last, and run no more..."
He had grown perilously close now, close enough to see the orange reflection in her eyes, and close enough to make out the contours of her face, the landscape of her face with valleys in eyes and the ridge of her nose, a map he wanted to explore for himself very suddenly. Yet before he could indulge the sensation, he heard the sudden splashing of a fish in the pond nearby, and he realized just how close he'd gotten to her, pulling away after visibly flinching. As his cheeks turned a deep red, he immediately began striking the stones together again, until at last sparks flew and lit the tinder, the flame taking immediately and beginning to spread.
Otto looked with superstition at the stones. "Was starting to wonder if I could light it," he said.