People were trying to stop Rethais as they marched through halls and crowds, so they could talk to Rethais and congratulate them on their win, but Rethais didn’t want to talk to them. They had their mind set on one thing only, and that was to get to the executive box where Rethais’s allies had watched their fight. Rethais’s four body guard were doing their best to be diplomatic when it came to keeping people away, but it was getting difficult. Doubly so as Rethais was certain they had heard someone call them “Retvik” due to the armour they were wearing.
Finally, with a hint of rudeness, they made it to the executive suite. Rethais charged in, moved everyone to one side then dragged Lysar, the General of Hidden External Affairs, to the window.
“Uh, Rethais, what… what is going on?”
Rethais fumbled with their helmet, desperately trying to take it off, only to roughly throw it to one side once they managed it. They then pulled out the two daggers they had used during their battle and got down on one knee in front of Lysar.
“Rethais…”
The High General took a deep breath, calming themselves down. They placed one dagger by their side, then held up the second dagger up to Lysar. The dagger still had a coating of blood on it. And a blue hilt. The other dagger was one of Rethais’s standard High General blades, but the one Rethais was holding seemed custom-made.
“In order to prove my honour and love to you, I bring you a darkened blade, stained with the blood of my enemies, of those who threaten to usurp us. With this blade, I hope that you will accept my words, my dedication and my love. Lysar, you have lightened up my life and allowed me to show you weakness, love and kindness. I now pray that you allow me to show you my desire to protect, love and treasure you, that you allow me to be by your side, until the darkness parts us both. Lysar, may I be your forever-partner?”
Lysar stared rather blankly at both Rethais and the dagger. They were clearly stunned and unsure how to react. After an awkward few seconds, they seemed to settle down and speak. As they did so, they took the dagger from Rethais’s hands, then glanced around the room, before turning back to Rethais.
“Did you really go through all of this stupidity just to propose to me?”
“Somewhat. As a High General, in order to prove my love to you, tradition insists that I obtain the blood of an enemy. This was… a convenient opportunity for me to do so.”
“You, uh, do realise that the Promise of Blood and Love was… made no longer a legal requirement a long time ago, yes?”
Rethais grunted. “I know, yes. But you have mentioned that you wanted me to be more romantic and spontaneous, and, well, this was my way of doing that.”
Lysar blinked, then let out a little snicker, before lifting Rethais to their feet.
“Well, you are clearly insane. But I love you because of that. Yes, Rethais, I want you to be my forever-partner. And I want to be your forever-partner. You lunatic.”
Before Rethais could add everything, a round of applause exploded across the room. In their desperate desire to propose (and probably a side effect of some half-stance defensive bubbles), Rethais had forgotten that they and Lysar weren’t alone.
“Congratulations!” someone, probably General Hasvik, shouted.
“Uh, thank you…” Rethais was suddenly rather overwhelmed. “Either way, I wish to head back to my private villa, with Lysar of course, and I really need to take this armour off. As it is Macromera, unless you have something important to do, you are all dismissed and free to do whatever you want.”
“Whatever we want?”
Rethais eyed the one 47th Legion soldier who had spoken up. They smiled weakly but didn’t say anything else.
“Do not worry, my dear!” Lysar smiled as they picked up Rethais’s helmet, handed it back to them then put an arm around Rethais. “They will behave themselves. We however have some celebrating to do!”
With more smiles, Lysar led Rethais out of the room. Rethais’s body guards followed but trailed at a distance, wanting to give the new couple some space.
“So, uh, why did you pick Retvik’s armour rather than wearing your own?” Lysar asked as they walked, making their way to some back hallways, away from the public.
“I heard that Panos was wearing one of Telumeus’s old mech suits and I wanted to do something similar, wearing the armour of the best Rethan to ever step foot into these arenas.”
“But… but Retvik was… wearing his Lightbearer armour when… when they disappeared…”
Rethais sighed. “They had multiple sets. This is actually about five years old, an older, inferior version, but the only one that properly fit me. And… admittedly, it is still a little too big for me.”
“What do you mean?”
Rethais nudged one of their pauldrons. “The shoulder plating is too wide. Retvik and I may have been almost identical when we were young, but Retvik was… well, very buff…”
“I assume we need to return the armour?”
“Actually, I asked if I could keep it, and they said yes, and even said they would send me a few other bits and pieces. After all, I have… literally nothing else to remind me of my older sibling…” Rethais sighed some more, then trailed off, before changing the subject. “Either way, I am very sorry for so suddenly proposing to you and putting you on the spot.”
Lysar blinked, then lighed and hugged Rethais tightly. “Rethais, you silly little plum, that was the exact sort of spontaneousness I always wanted from you! Was it awkward, you proposing with a blade covered in Torr blood? Definitely. But you went above and beyond to prove your love, and I am so happy for you and for us. Just… please do not give me a blood-covered dagger at our wedding.”
Rethais smiled. “Of course, Lysar. And we will have a quiet, private wedding too, as you requested.”
“Good. I love you, Rethais.”
“I love you too, Lysar.”