Several months of timeskip
You finish the book you were reading and glare into nothing for a few minutes in shock before you can stand up.
You look around and scowl when you see the carpet empty where Alber lay before you got lost in the old story.
He needs to hear this.
The stars are shining brightly above the sky, the hour of midnight is close.
You began the book late afternoon and didn't notice how much time passed.
You stand up and fly outside through the open arch of the home.
When you can't see him anywhere, you go higher and call his name.
He doesn't answer, so you close your eyes to listen to his song until you find the right direction.
Your mind is filled with happiness when you see him under the waterfall, which became one of his favorite places.
The Lunarian wields his sword with slow and precise movements, each of them cutting the waterdrops in half, creating a cloudy mist around his figure.
He lets his black wings move without his control, and they follow the gestures of his strong arms on their own.
Whenever he opens his eyes through the dance-like course, they gleam through the darkness like a pair of polished rubies.
His white hair is soaked in water, the wet locks sticking to his bare chest and back because he left his shirt at the shore.
The defined muscles are tense under his dark skin, looking just as rigid as the metal blade in his hand.
As he handles the weapon designed to protect and kill, his act still radiates peace and balance, like an unearthly creature that brings down the brightest of the shooting stars, which threat with burning down the world of men.
He looks like a vision.
Alber is most likely aware of your presence, yet he doesn't show any sign of it.
Lunarians fought many battles through the centuries. Just as he told you long ago, history is written by blood.
But even amid the cruelty and coldness these swords carry, there lies beauty and tranquility like nothing else under the Sun.
Ever since his childhood, he saw both sides of these blades.
The weapon does not carry hatred, only its wielder if he chooses the darker path.
And despite his sorrow of failing his Captain, Alber is grateful for his last defeat against Roronoa of the Strawhat Pirates because it reminded him of the value hidden in challenges and wars, which he almost forgot through the years.
Fighting isn't only about strength, real fights are not.
But after finding peace in this home, he doesn't long for them anymore. With that in mind, he wields his sword to maintain his power each day.
When you were interested, he often taught you too.
You will never get close to his level, but you are getting stronger and begin to understand why it is so important to him.
And Alber is so proud of your progress.
Accepting the past won't change it, and he can never forget the day he lost Lumen.
He vowed that whatever happens in the future, he will never let anyone hurt those he loves.
You wait until he finishes and steps forward into the shallow lake.
He lowers the long katana, and his whole body relaxes as his eyes find you. An instinctual smile spreads on his full lips.
"Rain."
"I want to talk to you about something," you say quickly.
The Lunarian looks up at the sky, then stabs the blade into the ground and sits in the water.
"Then do," he answers, carefully moving a lily away before his wing could break it as he lets them rest too.
"Would you come out?" you tilt your head.
"Nope."
You scoff silently, and he smiles wider.
"Why do you play this game all the time?" you ask annoyedly, and the man shrugs, throwing his head back to see the sky better. "At least I can swim."
"Low blow," he answers, laughing silently. "I just enjoy the faces you make."
You sigh deeply and take off the embroidered shirt he made for you a few weeks ago, and throw it at him.
The man lifts his wing and blocks it so the fabric falls into the lake.
"You value my gifts as I see," comments Alber with false indignation.
"Would you give it back?" you snap, blushing slightly as he tilts his head, his neck still bent from his previous move.
His hair is blown by the mild waft, slowly drying a little to regain its silkiness. You blush at the view and hope that the night hides it. "It's my favorite."
"As you wish, Halfblood," he shrugs.
And the next thing you feel is the soaked shirt landing on your face with a headshot.
You lose balance and shriek briefly as you fall into the lake.
You feel his arms around you as he pulls you out, laughing sweetly at your clumsiness.
He stays by your side and peels off the cloth from your head, throwing it out to the land.
You grimace as he chuckles and gets rid of the weeds that have got stuck in your hair.
"The princess of the bog, ladies and gentlemen," he whispers playfully, touching your cheek with care and stroking the lines of your skin as if it was his first time feeling you.
And you spit water into his face.
The Lunarian freezes, and his smile disappears. You grin at his reaction.
"You make enjoyable faces as well," you say. The man pouts, his cheeks puffy for a moment.
As you keep laughing, he rolls his crimson eyes and leans forward, kissing you deeply.
You don't push him away, but he stops when you try to embrace his neck with your arms.
Alber smiles by your lips, and his right hand catches both of yours.
Your wings flutter as his other grabs your waist so he can lay your back against the shore, with most of your legs still in the water.
He pins your hands against the sand, and you look up to see as his gaze runs over your body.
His face is dark in the shadows as he holds himself above you.
"Alber-"
"Stay still, woman," he rustles, and you gasp when he kisses the skin under your collarbone, then between your breasts.
His wing reaches back, and he elbows by your side to keep himself balanced.
You close your eyes as he ties your shirt around your hands, then takes his sword from his wing and stabs the fabric into the ground to keep you there.
You move a little, trying to get used to your bounded wrists.
Alber leans down to kiss you again, and his breath fastens as he presses his body against yours, one hand behind your neck while the other explores the curve of your waist and hip.
"You ruined your own gift," you whisper to him after he lets you gasp for air, moving down a little.
As he hears your voice, he looks up again and smiles amusedly when he sees your red cheeks.
He caresses you with slow yet confident strokes, and his fire goes out to let you feel more of the softness of his skin as you tense up from his touch.
You feel his fingers arrive at the edge of your skirt.
When you move around under him, the Lunarian tastes the thin, sensitive skin over your ribs, just above your stomach.
You pant silently, and he gives you only a moment of break to answer you, his incredibly vast, beautiful wings opening to hide your bare figure from the night.
"I'll make you a new one," he promises with a smile, and you tense against him as his grip turns tighter with the red eyes gleaming brightly in the darkness before he frees you from the rest of your clothes.
.
.
.
Later
You nestle closer to his warm side, still trying to catch your breath.
Alber strokes your arm absent-mindedly, and you feel a drop of sweat flowing down your forehead.
He lays the side of his head against yours, inhaling your scent silently.
The man turns to his side and hugs you gently, his wing covering both of you like a dark blanket to preserve the heat of your bodies as they cool down little by little.
His flames didn't light up again because he knows you like his touch better this way.
"You are unusually quiet," he messes with you, reeling your hair around his fingers. "I like that."
You turn red and hide your face against his muscles, murmuring him to shut up.
The man laughs silently and leaves a smooch over the top of your head as you try to disappear in his arms.
You feel the slight trembling of his chest as he talks, the deep voice sending its ringing through your blood too.
"I thought you wanted to tell me something, Rain," he whispers. Your eyes open as you remember, and you move back a little to see his face. When he notices the strange seriousness of your face, he scowls and kisses you tenderly. "What is it?"
You smile at his gentleness and touch his face, which makes his expression milder.
"Nothing bad," you answer. "I just read the book I found in the library a few days ago, and all the little things..."
He waits patiently as you try to find your words, his hand lowering to your back, attempting to bring you comfort as your heart pounds faster.
"I think you might be from the royal bloodline, Alber," you say, and the man lours, backing up to create more distance. "That would explain why you have greater magic than all the spells mentioned before. Lunarian leaders always had more special abilities, as their blood was the purest. That can explain how you could give these flames to me, even though it is said to be impossible."
He bethinks for a moment, thousands of emotions running through his face.
And suddenly, he smiles at you again.
"Even if I am, what does it matter for us now?" he asks, and your eyes widen.
The simple question goes against many things you thought you knew about his values.
He changed so much.
Alber kisses your forehead with love before he continues.
"My heritage is important to me," he whispers, watching your face with such care that it makes your mind clear of all thoughts. "But more than being a Lunarian, a title like that wouldn't change a thing about who I am or what I have now."
He pulls you back to his embrace, his wings singing as he hides his cheek by your hair.
"It's just us now," says the man silently. "And that's all enough for me. Our nation depended on the Elders anyway. They were the ones to lead. The royal family only led the army and cared about safety."
He waits a few seconds.
"And I have had enough of wars," he sighs. "I never knew what happened to this place or who my parents were. But sometimes it's better not to chase the past, especially if it leads to happiness in the end. Mine led me to you, and I don't need anything more."
The Lunarian touches the bracelet around his hand.
"Just as you never knew who set you free at Mariejois," he continues. "I thought about it a lot, but there are too many possibilities. Revolutionaries, pirates, a Celestial Dragon who still had a heart, or even someone more powerful. Destiny loves to keep its secrets, and as mere puppets at its hand, there are times when it's best to bow for its will and be grateful for what we have."
You look up, and his eyes soften like every time he sees you. He touches your face and runs his finger over your lips.
"And I am, Rain."
You feel how you tear up and reach up for a kiss.
The Lunarian is careful and slow, as both of you protect the quietness of this night.
You feel love rushing through your veins, turning the world into a more special place.
Alber takes a deep breath when you lean back, and his wing moves down so you can see the sky.
The Moon shines brightly upon the two of you, and you feel the cool water of the lake still stroking your feet.
You think about how infinite space is, how thousands of Suns glimmer in the darkness.
As you let your mind wander to that thought of eternity, you feel like it's the same as the one that lives inside you when he's by your side.
You don't notice how he doesn't look at the stars but keeps his deep eyes on your face since he finds it much more beautiful.
Neither of you knows how much time passes in this state, and the moment stretches into years, decades, to centuries.
Its memory settles down in the deepest core of your mind so it can be remembered throughout your life and beyond.
And in the peace of this silence, you gather your bravery to ask him a question you never dared before.
"Alber."
"Mhm," he hums, smiling with care for hearing his name from your mouth.
You take a deep breath before you speak.
You close your eyes for a second, then look at him, your wing subconsciously touching his.
"Do you want a family with me?"
His eyes widen as he hears it, and his lips open a little.
He recoils and sits up, and your heart clenches when a shadow falls over his face, darkening his features.
He frees himself and leaves you on the ground as he sits up.
You suddenly feel frail and lonely again, your wings hiding your figure to help your vulnerability.
You were prepared for any other reaction, whether the man said no or yes.
But he looks so hurt.
When he talks with an empty and distant voice, your world shatters into pieces not from his answer but the reason he gives for it.
"No. You are a Halfblood."
And when you fly away to hide your face, the Lunarian doesn't follow you.
He sits at the shore of the little paradise where you lived together for so long.
You don't see as he huddles himself up and buries his face into his hands, trying to be as small as possible.
When his tears fall into the smooth mirror of the lake, his reflection distorts, and the tiny waves run over the fractured image as if they try to calm him before the leaves of the water lilies make their line fade away.
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.
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