TRYST // Philza X Reader

11

You spent a few more hours cleaning off the vegetables you had pulled from the ground in the river, and then you were headed back up to the house so Phil could prepare them for dinner. Not wanting you to strain yourself climbing back up the ladder, he'd just handed you all the vegetables and picked you up by the shoulders, flying you the short distance up into the trees.

From there, you had helped Phil slice and arrange the vegetables until they were small enough to be poured into a pan. Chicken was thrown in as well, and everything was sprinkled with seasoning before he set it to cook over the fire. It wasn't long before a delicious smell was filling the house, and you could see the sun getting low on the horizon.

"You'll probably be sore tomorrow." Phil said conversationally, watching dinner cook. "I don't know how used to heavy farm work you are..."

"I think I'll be alright." You said. "I was on my feet delivering messages every day back home, so it's not like I'm too out of shape."

Phil hummed, and you began to drum your fingers on the table, gaze focused on the window slightly to your left. The sky was painted orange and pink - a color that only a day ago had been filling you with fear. Now, safe in Phil's house for the time being, it was peaceful.

Your eyes slipped from the window, finding that scroll that still sat on the table with ease. Your fingers drummed a little faster as you looked at the silver dusting on the edges of the seal - now almost completely gone.

"I'm not going to open that, I've already said."

You looked up to find Phil looking at you, slight amusement on his face as he had caught you staring at the scroll again. You just rolled your eyes, continuing to drum your fingers on the table, turning your gaze back to the sunset outside.

"I almost died for that letter." You said offhandedly.

You weren't really expecting Phil to say anything about it - you weren't even really sure what you meant by saying it. But out of the corner of your eye, you could see Phil glance down at the scroll now, his lips pursed.

"Maybe I should open it." He amended.

You turned your gaze back to Phil to see him looking at the scroll now, obviously a little sheepish. "You don't have to." You said. "I didn't mean anything by it-"

"No, you're right." Phil said, reaching over and grabbing the scroll. He rolled the paper between his fingers for a moment, just looking down at the seal. "You did almost die for this, and I haven't even bothered to open it yet."

Without much ceremony, Phil broke open the wax seal, letting the broken halves fall to the table. With a flick of the wrist, he rolled open the scroll, looking down at the curling script that was printed across the paper. It was hard to read upside down, but from what you could discern it said this:

To my old friend,

I am sorry that I hadn't reached out sooner, but I've tried to respect the fact that you wanted to retire. Oft times when I think back to the beginning of all this, I think about your affection for life and the way that you took it upon yourself to quell the killing and burning of villages and their people. Unfortunately, much the same is happening as of recent.

I reach out to you for support, and possibly for personal help. I haven't forgotten how you seemed unscathed by the years passing by, and in dire times such as these I can't help but wonder how you've done it. My fear for my own life grows-

Whatever was the next line, you didn't get to see. Phil crumpled the paper in a hand and turned around to toss it into the fire. The paper caught fire immediately and went up in a burst of flame. It was only a moment before the letter was gone, and only ash was left behind.

"I wasn't done reading that." You said.

"I was." Phil said, rising in his seat to turn around and poke at the cooking vegetables and meat.

"Can you at least tell me what the rest of it said?" You asked. "What's he talking about with the time thing?"

"Doesn't matter." Phil said. "I'm not going to help him anyway. What kind of an ass move... the first time he reaches out in over 100 years and it's to rope me into some war that he brought on himself..."

"I almost died for that." You said again, voice flat and deadpan.

"At least I've opened it now." Phil said. He poked at the food a little more, and then deciding it was done, took the pan off the fire, setting it down in the center of the table. Steam rose from the pan and Phil stepped away to grab two plates and some silverware. When he returned, he handed a plate to you, and you served yourself from the pan.

For a moment you ate in silence. You'd expected yourself to be more invested in what the letter had said - you'd almost given your life for it after all - but you were strangely unaffected. There hadn't been anything you hadn't already sort of known in there - though the time thing was interesting. Was the king that concerned about dying?

Whatever it was, it seemed to have gotten to Phil. From the way he had tossed the letter in the fire to now, as he stared out the window and ate in silence, he was deep in thought. You weren't quite sure what sort of thing he was thinking, but he was sure thinking a lot of it. Reading something like that was bound so send you into a spiral though.

You popped a slice of potato into your mouth. "S'good." You said as you chewed.

Phil blinked, broken out of his trance, and smiled. "Thanks."