Rhine

The wind from the fields carried the scent of fresh hay and freedom. She sat on an old stone by the well, watching him unsaddle his horse. He, Rain, had changed. A scar on his cheekbone, his shoulders broader, and a calm in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

“You’re taking longer than my father,” she chuckled, hiding her smile in her mug of water.

"A horse, unlike some, doesn't interrupt an old friend," he replied, coming closer. He sat down next to her on the grass, resting his head on her lap. It was something they only did in childhood.

She ran her fingers through his hair, feeling him exhale all the weariness of years.

"The war is over," he whispered, looking at the sky. "I'm back."

“I know,” she answered quietly. “I’ve been waiting.”

In the distance, the bell rang for the evening meal. And still they sat—the daughter of an impoverished nobleman and the former knight-errant. They no longer needed to rush anywhere. The world had finally become their common home.