Chapter Text
The morning sunlight showered down on Finn's face. He frowned, eyes still closed, not wanting to wake up. It was pure peace. The war was over. The bedding was too fluffy — actually, the fluffiest it had been in five years — for him to even think about moving. He didn’t know where he was, but the warmth and the cinnamon scent behind him were too sweet to make him open his eyes and sort out the details. He wanted to stay wrapped in this peace a little longer.
But the man spooning him nuzzled his neck, and the touch instantly sparked recognition in his mind. Dane. He was with Dane. Still keeping his eyes closed, he smiled from ear to ear. He had slept with the man he loved most.
Dane whispered against Finn’s neck. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Finn replied, still wrapped in his arms.
“Hey.” Dane gently turned him so they were facing each other, both lying on their sides. Finn slowly opened his eyes.
They looked at one another without speaking. It was still a miracle that their view of the other wasn’t filtered through the cold glass of a visor. Even though they had had heated sex in this bed last night and had declared in front of their families and their loyal lords that they wanted each other, the severe and cruel five-year war was still lingering in their bones. The concept of peace didn’t settle into their minds so easily, especially right after waking up, when their brains were still dull with sleep.
Finn reached up and brushed aside the other man’s bangs that had fallen over his forehead. Dane smiled subtly, enjoying the trace of his finger. He leaned into the touch just slightly, his eyes soft and unguarded in a way Finn had only ever seen in private. The quiet stretched between them, warm and steady, holding everything they had survived and everything they had chosen the night before. Finn’s chest tightened with the weight of it. He realized he still hadn’t said the L word. He needed to say it.
The timing felt perfect. Safe in the chamber, alone. There was no need to pretend they were prioritizing something else. They loved each other, and it mattered.
“I love you.”
Finn felt water gathering along the rims of his eyes.
“I love you, too.”
The response was soft. The tears slipped down his cheeks, and when his vision cleared, he saw that Dane’s eyes were shining as well.
“Fuck.” Dane buried his face in the crook of Finn’s neck. “Took us so long.”
Finn swallowed the lump in his throat. He tangled his fingers in Dane’s curls, kissed the top of his head, and breathed him in. He whispered, “Don’t ever leave me.”
Contentment spread through his chest in a way he had never felt before. As a disciplined man, he was used to satisfaction, when his army moved exactly according to his commands, when he defeated a Solari platoon, when he achieved whatever objective he had set for himself. He had known many kinds of victory.
But this? This was different. The connection between them felt unlike any triumph he had ever claimed. They had shared it five years ago, too. Yet he hadn’t understood the power of giving it a voice, of saying it out loud and having the feeling returned.
It was the first time Dane had said I love you to Finn. Of course, he had implied it before, with “Do you think you could love me again?” and “Next time, you say yes when I ask you if you love me.” But hearing the words directly filled him with warmth and strength and something he couldn’t even begin to name.
It filled an emptiness in him he had never been able to define. He had carried that hollow space even as he vowed to his people that he would die for them. As a Lunare prince, he had been taught to call that devotion happiness. He had been raised to become a perfect king. He had truly believed he needed a wife, someone who could serve as a strong ally. He had believed those things were the definition of happiness. Yet none of those doctrines had ever brought him joy.
This mutual, unconditional love was irreplaceable. He didn’t want to step out of this cocoon yet. Dane began murmuring soft I-love-yous, pressing kisses over his chest.
“Please fuck me.” Finn cupped Dane’s face and said, “Fuck me, Solari prince.”
—
They stayed in bed until one of Dane’s servants knocked on the door. Finn raised his eyebrows, wondering why the servant had come to the guest chamber.
Dane laughed and whispered in his ear, “Do you really think they don’t know where I am? We technically kissed in front of them, and you think they don’t imagine how we fuck? They’re probably in agony this morning, thinking about their precious princes.”
“Oh my god,” Finn groaned as Dane winked.
Finn ducked under the duvet to hide his naked body. Dane slipped out of bed, pulling a sheet with him and wrapping it low around his hips.
“Coming,” he called out. “Don’t open the door.”
Finn muttered, “You sound so obvious.”
“Trust me,” Dane said with a grin, “they know exactly why it took us this long to answer.”
Finn thought Dane would go straight to the door. But the footsteps stopped after only four steps. Then he heard the scratch of a pen against paper instead.
“Dane, answer the door!”
“Nah, I need to write a note. Or do you want him to come in and wait while I finish?”
“Fuck you,” Finn snapped.
Finn knew Dane enjoyed teasing him. It was irritating, but at the same time, it was endearing. His voice was music to Finn, even when it made him feel annoyed.
He decided not to think about what the servant and Dane were talking about, staying hidden under the duvet. He heard the door close, then felt the bed dip as Dane climbed back onto it. Finn peeked out and met Dane’s smirk.
“Why is this bothering you? You told your army you fucked me back then. I’m sure they imagined the rest.”
“First, I didn’t announce it to my entire army, just a few generals. Second, we Lunare are more serious. We don’t gossip.”
“Oh, right. We have an entire gossip network. Welcome to Solari.”
Finn sat up, shook his head, and asked, “What did you write in the note?”
Dane propped himself up on one arm. “I told my father not to schedule anything for me today. I’m busy with you.”
Dane chased the words away with a quick kiss to Finn’s lips. Finn smiled, but it faded quickly when Dane teased him again.
“But seriously, you’re bold and sometimes boss me around when we fuck. Do you really get embarrassed when people imagine how you ride my cock?”
“Fuck off.”
He nudged Dane’s shoulder and slid off the bed. He gathered the clothes they had abandoned on the floor the night before and tossed them back onto the bed. Instead of putting them on, he walked to the bathing room. Dane followed.
A large stone tub sat near the window. No servants had prepared it yet. The water inside was still cold from the night.
Finn dipped his hand in first. Cold.
He poured water over his shoulders anyway. The chill made him straighten. Dane stepped closer and did the same. They stood near the tub, rinsing themselves in silence, water running down their skin and onto the stone floor.
Their shoulders brushed. Fingers touched when reaching for the cloth.
Their bodies remembered the night. The morning.
Dane’s hand rested at Finn’s waist for a moment. Finn felt it. It would have been easy to turn. Easy to pull him close again. The cold water would not have stopped them.
But neither of them moved further.
This felt different. Standing side by side. Quiet. No urgency. No fire. Just the two of them, washing away the traces of heat.
It felt almost ordinary.
Afterward, Finn crossed to the wardrobe and pulled out a fresh set.
“I’m hungry,” he said as he dressed in clean garments.
“Let’s go to my dining room. Breakfast time’s over, but the staff have probably prepared something.”
“Oh. I was thinking about your cinnamon butter toast.”
Dane gave him the most arrogant smile. “You really like it?”
“You think you’re annoying me, but do you know you’re the cutest when you act like that?”
Finn smiled back, knowing he had won this round. Dane tried to hold on to his grin, but a flush crept up to his ears. He was cocky and loved to rile Finn up for fun — and Finn generously played along because he knew Dane thought he was cute when he was angry — but when Finn said something that truly moved him, Dane’s composure always slipped. His shyness tried to hide behind that cool act of his.
It was the cutest sight.
“Put your clothes on already,” Finn said. “We’re going to your kitchen.”
Dane didn’t push his cockiness any further. He pulled on the garment he’d worn the day before and came to stand beside Finn.
“For your information,” Finn said, “I really like your cinnamon butter toast. I’m starving. Let’s go.”
He walked toward the door as he spoke, but just as he reached for the knob, Dane wrapped an arm around his waist.
“Mm. We can’t have it now.”
“Why?”
“Basically, the kitchen staff prepare three meals a day unless I tell them in advance that I have other plans. So I’m sure our breakfast has been ready for about an hour.”
“Oh.” Finn couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice.
“I’ll tell them they don’t have to prepare breakfast tomorrow.”
Just one morning wasn’t enough for Finn. “Can you make it every day?”
“I’m a Solari prince with the privilege of not doing housework, and now I’m your kitchen staff?” Dane put his hands on his hips.
“But you love me.”
Finn paused. It was the second time he had said it, and this time it slipped out so casually. Their love simply existed between them, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. In a way, it was. But he had denied it for so long that he had almost forgotten how to feel it. Now he could feel it clearly, steady and present. He could accept it as it was. He could even joke about it.
“Yes, I love you,” Dane said, and pulled Finn into his arms.
—
They finished their late breakfast. The arrangement was cleared away, and one of the kitchen staff brought them tea. Finn took a sip.
“Can I move into your chamber tonight?”
Dane glanced at him.
“I know we’re not married yet, so it may not be appropriate, but…”
“That’s the plan,” Dane cut in. “We don’t believe in virginity before marriage anyway.”
“Even if I were a girl?”
“Not really.”
That surprised him. Finn had accepted Dane’s invitation at the pond five years ago because he was male. Lunare princesses had to live differently. They held strict discipline about marriage, including virginity. And he was an offering to Solari in this narrative. He had assumed he would be required to follow something similar.
Moving into Dane’s chamber officially was different from Dane sneaking into his bed last night. It would have looked as if they were openly breaking that discipline. Now that he understood the Solari view, he realized he didn’t have to worry anymore.
Finn nodded and finished his cup. The reality that he would finally see Dane’s chamber struck him. His mind swelled with anticipation. He took a deep breath.
“Wow… that’s wow.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just… this is big.” Finn gave him a wide, almost boyish smile. “Five years ago, I kept wondering what it would feel like to be in your bed. We always spent the night in my chamber. Not once in the chamber that was yours while you stayed in Lunare. I used to imagine what it would be like to wake up there, surrounded by your scent. How you lived in your Solari castle, your real home. How you decorated your room. How the way you arranged things might say something about you. I imagined everything. Every possible version.”
“You kept that from me.”
“We both thought we couldn’t be together. They were meaningless imaginations.”
“No,” Dane said softly. “I wish you’d told me back then.”
Dane reached for Finn’s hand and placed his own over it. “I’ve always wanted you in my chamber. Can we go now?”
They stood, their fingers threading together. Dane led him toward the stairs, and they almost ran up them. After all, they were the finest soldiers of two kingdoms. When impatience struck, their stamina carried them easily.
Still, they kept their hands intertwined.
This wasn’t a race. It was joy. The simple, reckless joy of being free from the restraint they had lived under for so long.
Dane pushed him gently against the wall beside the door as soon as they entered the chamber. Finn swallowed hard as Dane’s mouth found his neck. His eyelids slid shut and stayed there, too heavy to lift. He didn’t even try to open them. He wanted to stay inside the sensation. Dane’s soft lips against his skin were intoxicating, sweet and dangerously distracting.
His head tilted back against the wall, offering more without thinking.
“We have plenty of time for that,” Dane murmured near his ear, his breath warm.
Finn’s strong yearning for him could have easily carried them straight to the bed. For a second, Finn nearly lost that quiet battle inside himself. Dane kept kissing along his neck, leaving warmth that would surely bloom into marks later, his hands sliding beneath Finn’s jacket in ways that were not helping at all.
Finn’s eyes remained shut. The room could have disappeared for all he knew. There was only heat, breath, and the steady pull in his chest.
But the different kind of longing he had carried for five years — the longing to be here, to see this room, to stand in Dane’s world in daylight — pushed through the haze. Slowly, reluctantly, he lifted a hand and pressed against Dane’s shoulder.
“Wait,” he breathed. “I want to see your room first.”
His eyes were still closed when he said it.
“I want to embrace this moment fully.”
Dane groaned but lifted his hands in surrender. Finn took a moment to steady his breathing before finally opening his eyes. He looked into Dane’s and said, “This is special to me. I want it to be perfect. So… can we wait until tonight? Make love in your bed?”
That clearly pleased Dane. The tension shifted into something warmer, almost proud. He stepped back fully, giving Finn space.
“Welcome,” he said. “This is my chamber.”
Finn looked past Dane’s shoulder first, then walked in slowly.
The walls were painted a soft forest green. A large oil painting hung prominently — Dane smiling, confident but unguarded. The moldings were trimmed in muted gold, refined rather than ostentatious. His swords and other equipment were displayed neatly along one wall. The room carried his presence unmistakably. Strength. Discipline. Masculinity.
The bedding was beige. A deep brown sofa sat opposite the bed, pale blue pillows resting against it. The colors reminded Finn of the pond where they had first kissed. He could see Dane’s softness in those choices. But he wanted to see more.
Dane was the one who saw living for someone as his purpose in life. At his core, he was genuinely kind and generous. He wore cockiness like armor, and he wore it well. Finn himself had once been fooled by it. But when Dane let that guard down — something it seemed only Finn could draw out of him — he was nothing but devoted.
Finn found the bookshelves. Dane’s cockiness had tried to disguise the fact that he was a bookworm, but Finn had sensed it five years ago, when they’d fallen into long, unguarded conversations in his bed. Dane was intelligent. He knew everything from battle strategy to fae history, even the details of animal physiology. He respected the world as something worth studying.
Finn had once looked up at him in quiet awe because of it. But what impressed him most was Dane’s love of poetry. Yes, as a fifth prince, he was obligated to learn such things. Still, Finn had known Dane’s enthusiasm went far beyond duty.
He stepped closer to one of the shelves and asked Dane to choose a book. Dane selected an anthology of poems.
They settled onto the sofa together, bodies close, and opened it between them. The author was a woman Finn didn’t recognize, and the poems were all quiet praises of love. As Dane read aloud, his voice low and gentle, his fingers drifted into Finn’s hair, gently massaging his scalp. The silence between verses felt soft rather than empty. The chamber carried the faint scent of cinnamon that always seemed to cling to Dane, warm and grounding. It was impossibly romantic.
The anthology wasn’t long. It took only fifteen minutes for Dane to recite the final poem.
Finn leaned in and gave him a chaste kiss. “It was so beautiful.”
“Yeah,” Dane said, brushing his thumb along the book’s spine. “I like these the most.”
Finn shook his head lightly. “Both the poems and your voice. It was like music to me. I could listen to you recite forever. Maybe you could read to me like a bedtime story?”
Dane’s lips curved. “Are you saying every night? Like cooking you breakfast every morning?”
Finn hadn’t thought that far ahead. But now that they were there, glowing between them, he couldn’t pull back.
“I would like that,” he admitted.
A slow smile spread across Dane’s face. “My Lunare is greedy.”
Finn felt warmth rise in his chest at the sound of it. My Lunare. He liked how it sounded in Dane’s voice. Claimed, but cherished.
“Yes,” he said softly. “I am.”
Finn enjoyed being honest. They had been honest in a way five years ago, but this kind of honesty lifted him to a different level of comfort. Back then, they had circled around the truth. They had talked about it without ever saying it out loud.
“Hey,” Finn said, sitting up and turning to face Dane. “Why were you so sure that I loved you?”
The question wasn’t random. The night before last, Dane had asked, "Do you think you could love me again?" That meant he had known. At some point, he had been certain.
Dane’s expression shifted. “This sounds serious.”
His torso grew slightly tense, but he answered.
“You let me go that night,” Dane said quietly. “You knew your father wanted me. I was the key piece in that war. You could have won if I had been in your father’s hands. But you still let me go.” His voice softened. “If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”
Finn slowly took Dane’s hand and wrapped it in both of his.
“I’ve never hated you. I told myself I did. I thought I had to hate you. I believed that was the only way to survive it. But I have never, not once, forgotten you. I’ve always loved you.”
He swallowed.
“When your father started the war and we became enemies — and you were the best soldier in Solari, you truly were — I told myself I had to defend my heart. The night before last, I was trying not to fall for you all over again.”
His fingers tightened slightly around Dane’s hand.
“And I’m sorry for bringing up your father like that.”
Dane gave him a small, almost shy smile. “That’s okay.”
“No. It’s not.” Finn shook his head. “When you made me cinnamon butter toast… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I freaked out. I never thought of us as something merely physical. You were my top priority.”
He looked down briefly before forcing himself to continue.
“I think I was devastated. We lost the war. I was supposed to marry your cousin. Or I would have to watch you marry someone else. I couldn’t be with you. I’m one of the spoils of war. And I can’t do anything about it.”
“Don’t call yourself a spoil,” Dane said firmly. “You were. But not now. Not when you’re mine. Not when you’re my husband. We’re equal.”
“I know.”
Finn nodded. He knew Dane truly meant that. Dane had always wanted them to stand side by side.
Finn gave a small giggle. “So we’re husbands now?”
“Not officially. Not until there’s a ceremony, I guess. We should say we’re engaged… but I don’t like that word. We need to change it.”
Dane suddenly stood up, something clearly clicking in his mind. “Maybe we can petition the High Priest and have our vows sealed immediately. You should be my husband now. I’m not saying our kingdoms are going to fight again soon, but right now, I don’t really trust anything.”
“Can we just wait for the ceremony?”
Finn hesitated. Yes, he wanted to marry Dane today more than anything. But this marriage was still tied to diplomacy. He was meant to marry a member of Solari’s royal family. Even though the meaning had shifted from surrender to love, the disciplined part of him resisted bending protocol.
“It’s going to be enormous,” Dane said softly. “Solari doesn’t know the word simple. And enormous means at least three months of preparation.”
Finn frowned slightly.
“But you’re… no offense. You’re not the firstborn. And we don’t owe the kingdom any hereditary heirs. It doesn’t have to be extravagant. Immediate family at the temple would be enough.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Dane said with a smile. “I’m something of a hero here. The bravest and strongest soldier in Solari, apparently.” He tilted his head. “And you’re a hero too. You just saved the King of Solari’s life.” His smile turned teasing. “Mine too.”
“That’s… nice?” Finn said, a little awkwardly.
His smile faded slightly. Saved didn’t feel like the right word. He had stopped the coup with everything he had — but he could have prevented it before it even began.
Dane saw the shadow pass over his expression and shook his head gently. “Uh-uh. Don’t go there.”
Finn exhaled quietly. Then he looked at Dane with steady warmth.
“I want the ceremony to be huge,” Dane said. “I want our people to acknowledge you. To see you as an important prince of Solari.”
FInn’s expression softened. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“So, are you ready for a sovereign petition and vows?”
Dane’s voice was excited, his steps practically bouncing as he crossed to the closet. They had never danced together, but Finn could tell Dane would be a good dancer just by the way he moved.
“Okay,” Finn answered, joy bubbling in his chest.
“Okay.” Dane nodded, satisfied, and slipped out of his clothes.
He changed into something less traditional, just ordinary clothing. Finn glanced down at himself.
“Isn’t this too casual?”
“Don’t worry. It’ll do.”
They decided to skip lunch because of their late breakfast. They looked at each other, anticipation thrumming between them.
They were going to be together. Legally. Finally.
They held hands as they walked to the Solar Temple.
As they entered the hall, the priests seemed to be gathering for something. But when they saw the two princes, they quietly left, one by one, until only the High Priest remained.
Sunlight poured across the altar. It was simply the hour of the day, and yet the priest seemed to sense something more.
“Your Highnesses, how may I assist you?” the priest greeted them.
Dane answered simply, “We seek a sovereign petition and binding vows.”
“But the ceremony will…” The priest frowned, unable to finish his sentence before Dane enthusiastically cut him off.
“I know. But I want them.”
Dane’s grip tightened, as if telling Finn they were in this together. Finn squeezed back. He would stand by him, no matter what the High Priest said.
At first, the priest declined them politely. The ceremony was meant to come first. Royal approval was usually required. There were protocols to consider.
But when Dane laid out his reasons, the priest began to waver.
Dane and Finn were both heroes. The kings had already accepted their marriage after the coup, and the people had witnessed it. They were in love, openly and undeniably. They should be celebrated, not delayed.
One by one, Dane’s arguments unraveled the priest’s objections.
The priest glanced toward the altar. Finn saw no visible sign of mythic power, but if the sunlight offered the priest one more reason — a spiritual one that carried more weight than all the rational arguments — Finn would accept it.
Despite his careful composure, the priest moved to the foot of the altar and bowed his head in prayer.
When he returned to them, his decision had been made. He would proceed with the petition.
It began with, “The rite may be performed privately. The public ceremony may follow.”
The petition was quiet and solemn, and yet the atmosphere carried an unmistakable tenderness.
The two followed the simple instructions one by one and spoke their vows before the altar. Austerity embraced them. They focused on every step. Though Finn could not quite name it, a quiet feeling settled over them.
After the final vow, the priest brought the ceremony to its close.
They intertwined their fingers and walked out of the temple. Once they stepped into the bright sunlight, excitement bubbled up and drove away the serenity that had settled over them.
They jumped and laughed and pulled each other into a tight embrace. Still holding hands, they moved together. It wasn’t quite a dance, but they stayed like that for a while anyway.
When they finally ran out of breath, they stopped and looked into each other’s eyes as they tried to steady it.
“You’re my husband,” Finn whispered.
“You’re my husband!” Dane shouted.
Dane looked up at the sky. “Hey, I know what we should do next.” Without warning, he shot into the air.
“What? Wait!”
Finn leapt after him, wings snapping open as he beat them hard. Dane was already far ahead, grinning as he glanced back over his shoulder.
“Holy fuck, again?” Finn shouted, remembering how they had raced the day before.
His voice carried upward. Dane laughed and rolled beneath the clouds.
“I’m catching you!” Finn shouted.
He didn’t know what Dane had in mind, but whatever it was, it would be exciting.
Everything with Dane was.