The cottage was quieter than usual. Not in an eerie way, but in that kind of calm-before-the-change way—the kind where you sit back and realize that, after tonight, things won't be the same anymore.
I stood near the window, arms crossed, gazing at the small home that had been ours for the past few years. The dim lantern light flickered softly against the wooden walls, casting long shadows across the packed-up belongings.
Tomorrow, we were moving.
A hand suddenly poked my side, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"You're brooding again," Alma teased, stepping beside me. She was dressed in one of my shirts, which—objectively—looked better on her than on me.
I smirked, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Brooding? Me? Never. I was just... reminiscing."
She let out a soft hum, leaning into my side. "It's weird, isn't it? This little place has been home for so long."
I nodded. "Yeah. It's where we had our first argument—"
"Because you refused to do laundry properly."
"First of all, folding socks is unnecessary."
Alma pinched my side. "Says the man who owns an infinite inventory."
I chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "Fine, I admit it. But it's also where we had our first meal together, our late-night talks, our stupid little bets."
She smiled, eyes soft. "And where you first asked me to stay."
My chest tightened a little at that. That night felt like a lifetime ago. Alma had been stubborn back then—still was—but she'd softened in ways neither of us had expected.
I turned her to face me, resting my forehead against hers. "And look at us now. Moving into a floating fortress. Totally normal couple things."
She laughed, smacking my chest lightly. "I swear, Aiden, you can never just say something sentimental without ruining it."
"It's a talent."
She rolled her eyes but didn't pull away. "I really will miss this place, though."
I exhaled, looking around. "Me too."
It was true. As much as I had planned for the future, as excited as I was for what was coming next—this cottage had been our home. Our safe space. The place where it had all started.
Alma looked up at me, her fingers trailing over my shirt. "Are you sure about this? Moving out?"
I cupped her cheek, brushing my thumb over her skin. "Of course. This place has been great, but it's time we had something of our own. Somewhere bigger. Somewhere safe. And, let's be real, somewhere with better plumbing."
She snorted. "Okay, fair point."
We stood there in comfortable silence for a while. The kind of silence that didn't need filling.
Then, her hands slid up to my shoulders, fingers playing with my collar. "You know… this is our last night here."
I arched a brow. "Oh?"
She smirked, voice dropping into something more teasing. "Wouldn't it be a shame if we didn't properly... say goodbye to the place?"
My brain short-circuited for a solid three seconds before my hands immediately went to her waist. "Alma, I like the way you think."
She laughed, pulling me toward the bedroom.
And for one last night, we made sure this place was filled with the memories it deserved.
—
I woke up to the soft golden light filtering through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. But the real view wasn't the morning sun—it was Alma.
She was curled up beside me, her head resting against my chest, her breathing slow and even. Strands of her dark hair spilled across the pillow, catching the light just enough to give it a soft shimmer. She looked effortlessly beautiful, the kind of beauty that didn't need grand gestures or perfect settings—it was just there. Natural. Undeniable.
I traced lazy circles along her back, watching as she stirred slightly, a small hum escaping her lips. Even half-asleep, she looked stunning. The way her lips parted slightly, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing—everything about her had me mesmerized.
Then, without opening her eyes, she murmured, "Mm… you're staring again."
I smirked. "Can you blame me? Waking up next to the most beautiful woman in the world? Hard not to admire my luck."
She cracked one eye open, giving me a sleepy but amused look. "Flirting already? We haven't even gotten out of bed yet."
I shrugged. "What can I say? I'm an overachiever."
She chuckled, stretching slightly, the movement making the blanket slip just enough off her shoulder to reveal smooth, bare skin. My brain short-circuited for a moment, and I had to resist the urge to pull her back down and stay in bed for a few more hours.
Instead, she sat up, rubbing her eyes before glancing around the room. "Well, overachiever, today's the day. We're finally moving out."
Hearing it said out loud made something tighten in my chest—not in a bad way, just… realization sinking in. This was really it. Our last morning here.
Alma must've seen the look on my face because her teasing softened into something more thoughtful. "You okay?"
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah, just… it feels weird, you know? We've been here for years. This place saw everything—us getting together, you putting up with my nonsense, me realizing I couldn't imagine my life without you—"
She rolled her eyes but smiled. "I like how you make it sound like I was suffering."
"I mean, you kind of were. Let's be real."
She let out a small laugh, shaking her head before glancing around the room. "It is a little sad, though. Leaving all these memories behind."
I sat up, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "We're not leaving them behind. We're just making room for new ones. And trust me, Alma, what I've got planned? This next chapter is gonna be something else."
She gave me a suspicious look. "Should I be worried?"
I grinned. "Absolutely."
She groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Why do I put up with you?"
"Because you love me."
"Debatable."
"Alma."
She sighed dramatically before turning to me with a smirk. "Yeah, yeah. I love you."
I kissed her temple. "Love you too."
For a moment, we just sat there, taking in the last morning in this house. The place where everything started. It had given us so much, but I knew what came next would be even better.
With the morning nostalgia out of the way, it was time to finish packing up the last of our things. Well, technically, there wasn't much to pack, thanks to our spatial rings. One swipe and—bam—entire furniture sets, clothes, and even random knick-knacks vanished into storage.
Simple, right?
It should've been. But, of course, things never went that smoothly when Alma and I were involved.
I had just stored away the last of the kitchen items when I heard Alma groan from the other room.
"Aiden. Aiden."
I poked my head into the bedroom, instantly suspicious. "That's my name."
She stood there, hands on her hips, staring down at the floor. More specifically, at the one closet we had left untouched until now.
"What's the problem?" I asked.
She shot me an unimpressed look and pointed. "That."
I followed her gaze and immediately understood why she was annoyed. The closet door was slightly open, revealing an avalanche waiting to happen.
I scratched the back of my head. "Ah."
"Ah?" she echoed, voice dripping with accusation. "You knew about this?"
"I might've… forgotten about it?"
She crossed her arms. "Aiden, this is your mess."
"Okay, first of all, 'mess' is a harsh word. I prefer 'strategic storage.'"
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Just open it and deal with whatever disaster is in there."
I sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine." I reached for the door handle, mentally bracing myself. With a deep breath, I pulled it open—
And was instantly buried under a mountain of random junk.
Boom.
Alma let out a loud laugh as I groaned from underneath the pile.
"I told you," she said between giggles.
I spat out a feather—why was there a feather?!—and pushed aside what looked like an old training dummy. "Okay, in my defense, I don't even remember half of this stuff."
She crouched down, picking up a wooden duck figure. "Seriously? You kept this?"
I sat up, blinking at it. "Wait… isn't that from that one mission in Hargeon?"
"The one where you got chased by an entire flock of angry geese?"
"…I feel like we don't need to relive that particular moment."
She smirked. "Oh, but we do."
I groaned. "Let's just get this cleaned up before you start making a list of my embarrassing moments."
"Too late."
It took way longer than it should have, mostly because every time I tried to be productive, Alma found something new to mock me for.
By the time we were finally done, the sun was starting to set, and the cottage was officially empty.
I looked around one last time before glancing at Alma. "Ready?"
She exhaled, giving the house a final look before smiling at me. "Yeah. Let's go home."
—
The grand double doors of Leonhart swung open, revealing the massive entrance hall bathed in warm, golden light. Marble floors gleamed under the glow of intricately designed chandeliers, and an expansive staircase led to the upper levels, branching off into corridors that stretched into the unknown. Despite already touring the place, Alma still paused at the entrance, hands on her hips, taking in the sheer scale of it all.
She let out a low whistle. "Still feels like we're trespassing in someone else's castle."
I chuckled, but my gaze drifted up to the grand crest hanging above the entrance—a lion's head, intricately carved from enchanted silver, surrounded by a radiant halo of gold. The symbol of Leonhart.
Funny enough, I hadn't even picked the name.
That was all Alma.
When I first suggested naming the place, I had thrown out a bunch of random, over-the-top names—stuff like Skyhold, Avalon, Hyperion Fortress... you get the idea.
She had shot down every single one.
Then, without hesitation, she said, "Leonhart."
When I asked why, she had simply shrugged and said, "Because it's your name. And, well… it might be my name too, someday."
…Yeah. That had shut me up real quick.
Not that I was complaining.
The name fit. Not just because it was my surname, but because this place was ours—something we built together, something that would stand the test of time. And if the name Leonhart was going to carry into the future, then hell, I'd be more than happy to see it happen.
I glanced at Alma, who was now admiring the fine details of the entrance hall, completely unaware of the absolute chaos she had thrown me into when she first said those words.
I smirked, stepping beside her. "Well, technically, it's ours. So unless we start haunting the place, I think we're safe."
She shot me a look, her lips twitching. "No, you're more of the eccentric noble type. The kind who builds a floating fortress for no reason other than it 'sounded cool.'"
"Hey, don't forget 'practical.' Floating means fewer unwanted guests."
"Mmhmm. And what about the self-cleaning feature? The golem butlers? The hidden passageways?" Alma listed them off, raising a brow. "How exactly is any of that 'practical'?"
I slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "Simple. I want my queen to live in luxury."
She rolled her eyes but didn't push me away. "Flattery isn't getting you out of this. You definitely just wanted to live out some childhood fantasy."
I leaned in, lips brushing her ear. "And you love it."
She sighed, exasperated but amused. "Yeah, yeah. Doesn't mean I won't give you crap for it."
I chuckled, steering her further into the hall. "Come on. Let's make it feel like home."
Alma had insisted we unpack some essentials before anything else. I was fine with just dumping everything into the inventory and pulling it out when needed, but she wasn't having any of it. Apparently, "organization" and "not living like a complete disaster" were important.
"Put those over there," she said, pointing to a stack of boxes as I carried them into the master bedroom. "And don't just leave them. We're unpacking."
I groaned. "Alma, we have a literal army of enchanted golems that can do this for us."
"Yes, but they're not going to organize my closet the way I want."
"You have a closet the size of an apartment, and you're worried about organization?"
She gave me a look. The kind that told me this was not a debate.
I sighed. "Fine. But only because I love you."
"That's the spirit," she said, pecking me on the cheek before opening the first box.
I watched her for a moment, the way her fingers moved methodically as she sorted through clothes, placing them neatly in the built-in drawers. It hit me, this was real. We weren't just staying somewhere for a night or a mission. This was our home now.
The thought made something warm settle in my chest.
"…You're staring," Alma said without looking up.
I smirked, stepping behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist. "Can you blame me? I just moved into a castle with the most beautiful woman in Earthland."
She leaned back against me, tilting her head slightly. "Mm. You're smooth, Leonhart."
I nuzzled into her neck. "I try."
Alma turned in my arms, looping her arms around my neck. "This still feels surreal," she admitted. "We've been talking about finding a bigger place for so long, but now that we're here…"
"You second-guessing?" I asked, searching her expression.
She shook her head. "No. Not even a little. I just… I don't think I ever imagined living in something like this."
I pressed my forehead to hers. "Me neither. But I figured if we were going to build something, it had to be big enough for the future."
She smiled softly. "Thinking ahead, huh?"
"Always."
There was a moment of quiet before Alma pulled back slightly, her hands resting on my shoulders. "Then let's make this place really feel like ours."
I raised a brow. "You have something in mind?"
A mischievous glint flickered in her eyes. "A bet."
I smirked. "Oh? Do tell."
She tapped her chin, pretending to think. "First one to finish setting up their space wins."
I narrowed my eyes. "Define 'space.'"
"Your workshop. My study."
I considered it. "And the stakes?"
She leaned in, her breath warm against my lips. "Winner gets to pick what we do tonight."
Oh.
I grinned. "You're on."
—-
The sunlight streamed through the massive windows of Leonhart, bathing the grand master bedroom in a soft golden glow. Everything about the place screamed luxury—the king-sized bed draped in the finest sheets, the intricately carved furniture, the high ceilings, and the floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the floating fortress' surroundings.
But honestly? None of that mattered.
Because the real highlight of my morning was the woman nestled beside me, her head resting against my chest, her breath warm against my skin. My Alma was still asleep, her long hair cascading over the pillows in a messy, gorgeous tangle.
I smirked to myself. I should let her sleep.
…But where's the fun in that?
"Morning, beautiful," I murmured, my fingers brushing against her cheek.
She groaned, burying her face deeper into my chest. "Five more minutes."
I chuckled. "You said that ten minutes ago."
Her arm lazily draped over my torso as she muttered, "Your point?"
"My point is that we have an entire fortress to break in. First morning here, and I figured we could—"
She lifted her head just enough to squint at me. "If you say 'get to work,' I'm hitting you with a pillow."
I blinked. "I was going to say 'have breakfast.'"
She studied me suspiciously. "…Really?"
I grinned. "Nope. I was totally going to say 'get to work.'"
She groaned and rolled over, grabbing the nearest pillow and smacking me in the face.
I laughed, catching it before she could get another swing in. "Alright, alright! Breakfast first. Then work."
She huffed but smiled. "Good answer."
Turns out, even with an army of golem butlers and maids, Alma still insisted on making breakfast herself.
"Are you sure you don't want them to handle it?" I asked as she rolled up her sleeves, standing in the massive state-of-the-art kitchen.
She shot me a look. "I'm perfectly capable of cooking, Aiden."
I leaned against the counter, smirking. "Oh, I'm well aware. I just think it's funny that we have an entire automated cooking system, and you're over here making eggs manually."
She grabbed an egg from the basket and pointed it at me like a weapon. "Do you want food or not?"
I held up my hands in surrender. "Proceed."
She cracked the egg into a sizzling pan, and I took a moment to admire how effortlessly she moved. There was something about the way she handled things—efficient, precise, yet still completely natural. Even in a kitchen that looked like it belonged in a high-class restaurant, she owned the space like it was her personal domain.
I slid behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist as she worked. "You know, watching you cook is kinda hot."
She snorted. "That's because I'm literally standing in front of fire."
I nuzzled into her neck. "Nah. It's definitely you."
She elbowed me lightly but didn't pull away. "At least set the table instead of standing there looking pretty."
"Are you saying I look pretty?" I teased.
She rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant."
"Still taking it as a compliment."
She sighed but smiled, and I took that as my victory.
After breakfast, we finally got around to actually exploring the fortress without any distractions.
Which, let's be honest, meant I was getting roasted the entire time.
"You do realize you built a literal villain's lair, right?" Alma asked as we strolled through one of the many corridors, her fingers trailing along the polished stone walls.
I scoffed. "Excuse you. This is an elegant, highly sophisticated stronghold of justice."
She pointed to the massive throne-like chair sitting in the grand hall. "That is a villain chair."
"It's a seat of authority."
"It spins ominously."
"…That was an accident."
She gave me a flat look. "You built an entire fortress floating in the sky, filled with high-tech defenses, hidden corridors, an artifact that conceals its true form, and an army of golem butlers. Aiden, if you had a dark cape, this would be a full-blown evil lair."
I dramatically gasped. "Alma. How dare you? I am but a humble warrior seeking solace in his home."
NIMO's holographic form popped up beside us. "Correction. You are a highly overpowered individual who built a secret floating fortress with enough defensive mechanisms to hold off armies."
I glared at him. "Who asked you?"
"Just stating facts."
Alma smirked. "See? Even your AI assistant agrees."
I groaned. "Okay, fine. Maybe it has some villain-lair aesthetics. But it's for safety!"
She patted my shoulder. "Sure, my not-a-villain boyfriend."
I sighed. "This is going to be a thing now, isn't it?"
"Oh, absolutely."
After an entire afternoon of lighthearted bullying, we finally started making the place feel like home.
We added little touches to different rooms—framed photos, books in the study, personal items placed here and there. Alma had even brought over some of the plants from our old cottage, setting them up in the indoor greenhouse area.
"I can't believe we actually lived in a tiny cottage before this," she mused as she arranged some books on a shelf.
I flopped onto the massive couch in the lounge. "Good times, though."
She turned, looking at me with a warm smile. "Yeah. But this… this is something else."
I held out a hand. She walked over, letting me pull her down beside me.
"This is ours," I murmured.
She rested her head on my shoulder. "Yeah. It really is."
We sat there for a moment, just taking it all in. The silence wasn't empty—it was comforting, filled with the quiet understanding that this was just the beginning.
Leonhart wasn't just some fortress in the sky.
It was our home.
—----------
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