She turned the piece of wood over again in her hands.  It was clear that it was a carving of a campfire, one that had been banked low.  He’d somehow selectively burnt some parts, had stained other to represent the glowing embers.  She felt the heat on her face, it fought with a smile, cheeks burning as she knew this was something special she wasn’t quite getting.  Being honest with herself, this whole situation had caught her off guard.

There was a campfire before them, it was after all was Autumn headed into Winter.  Per their usual tradition, he’d brought the bowls of food from the camp below, she’d brought the wine.  He had built the campfire, banked low as was his custom.  Though, decidedly not the fire she had in her hands.  On the hillside they had enjoyed their meal, taken their break from the soldiers, from the planning, from the expectations.  Just the two of them, taking a moment to step away from all they had created, and were in the process of creating.  A space of normalcy that had gone perfectly according to its script until he had pulled the carving out of his pack, flipped it over in his hands, and then extended it to her and announced he had made it for her.

“I…” she finally started but stopped when she looked up and saw the knowing smile on his face, the crick of the scar on his left cheek from when a smile reached his eyes fully evident.

“It’s our first campfire,” he answered, head inclined, “as near as I’m able to recreate it.”

She looked at the carving again.  In the years since she had often thought about that first campfire.  Originally wondering at how she had been crazy enough to approach it, at times wondering how crazy she was to stay, and increasingly thankful that she had.  She also knew she’d have no way to know if this was indeed a recreation of it.

“You do know I can’t…”

“I do, but I wanted to recreate it.  I figured you having a way to see it would help to keep it in your mind.”

She laughed then, it was short and light and some evening bird whistled in response to it.  “The evening that led to me spending the these last few years with you is not something which I would ever forget.”  She ran a finger over the wood, pausing to tuck a hair that had fallen free back behind her ear, “but I do like having a physical reminder.”  She gave him a smile in fall before looking back to admire the work that had gone into the carving.

“Wait,” she continued after a moment, “how long have you known how to carve?”

“A few months, I saw Gale doing it and asked him to each me.”  She suppressed a laugh thinking of the panic Gale must’ve felt when the Last Landian approached and then asked for whittling lessons.  “I figure I’m gonna need hobbies before too long.”  The conversation dropped, Quartes clearing his throat and staring into the fire.

“Well,” Keto answered into the silence as she shifted to sit closer and leaned her head on the Landian’s shoulder, “I love it.  Don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone carving a fire, it’s kinda like making a painting of the stars on a given night.  Something unique to that moment.”

Quartes’ eyes widened for a moment, relaxing only as Keto eased against him.  Finally he let his head rest upon hers, scar tugging on his face as he smile once more, and looked into the campfire.

Author’s Note: I benefit from the anniversary of the site, and my posting of Around the Campfire, and Valentine’s Day being very close to each other. Seemed like a great chance to have the Fey and Bard have a cute moment. Thank you for reading and I hope you all are enjoying your own moment around a campfire.