A Pause in War

A Pause in War
Cassian
The war room empties slowly as demons disperse quietly. The weight of strategy settles into muscle memory, into the kind of calm that only comes after a plan is set and accepted. Allison stands when I do, her hand brushing mine briefly as she turns toward Rhaziel.
“I’m going to take a quick shower,” she says, already sounding tired beneath the steadiness. “I’ll meet you all after.”
Rhaziel nods immediately. “Of course.”
She smiles at him, then at the rest of us, and slips from the room with that soft, familiar gravity that pulls attention even when she isn’t trying. The doors close behind her, and suddenly, it’s just us. I let the silence breathe, let the moment settle so it doesn’t feel like a demand. Kael leans back against the table, arms crossed, Evander watches me with that quiet, perceptive stillness of his, and Rhaziel’s attention sharpens just slightly. Cage stays near the edge, posture relaxed but alert, like he’s already halfway gone.
“I’d like some time with Allison today,” I say finally. “Alone,” I add. “If that’s all right.”
I keep my voice steady, even, because I refuse to show any of my insecurities here.
“I don’t know how long this pause will last,” I continue. “Before Varyn moves or the world starts pressing in again. I don’t want to look back and realise we let the quiet pass us by because we thought there would be more of it later.”
Evander nods. “That makes sense.”
Kael tilts his head, studying me for a second, then grins. “About time you asked, Commander.”
Rhaziel doesn’t smile, but something warm passes through his gaze as he inclines his head. “You’ll have it.” Then, after a beat, he adds, “There’s a hill behind the eastern terraces. It's well shaded and overlooks the River of Souls. It’s quiet there, with few patrols. You won't get any interruptions.”
I blink, genuinely caught off guard. “Thank you.”
“She deserves quiet moments,” he replies calmly.
Evander steps closer, already shifting gears. “I’ll help you put something together.”
“I’d appreciate that,” I say.
Kael pushes off the table, rolling his shoulders. “Well, that works, because I have plans today.”
Cage glances at him, one brow lifting slightly. “You do?”
Kael shrugs, hands sliding into his pockets. “Yeah. Thought I might steal you for a bit.”
There’s a pause throughout the room.
Cage studies him for a second longer. “Why?”
Kael’s grin softens into something harder to read. “Not like that,” he says easily. “Just… I’ve got something in mind.”
Rhaziel watches the exchange but doesn’t interfere, and Evander gives Cage a brief, encouraging nod.
Cage exhales through his nose, then straightens. “All right.”
Kael beams. “See? Trust already.”
No one comments on how unexpected that pairing is. We simply move as a unit toward the doors. Rhaziel turns left. Evander and I follow him toward the kitchens, already discussing what we can make quickly that still feels like we made an effort. Kael hooks a finger in the back of Cage’s shirt and steers him the other way, laughing when Cage swats his hand away.

Once in the kitchen, Evander moves to roll his sleeves up, already slicing thick pieces of bread. There’s no rush in his movements, no tension, just quiet purpose. Rhaziel appears at my side without announcement and sets a basket on the counter. It's a dark, woven material reinforced with leather straps and a clasp that looks old enough to have survived several wars. I raise an eyebrow.
“You just have picnic baskets?” I ask.
He looks at me flatly. “Of course I do.”
Evander snorts, and we continue to work. I layer meats and cheeses on the bread; Evander handles the fruit, washing and cutting it with deliberate care, and setting everything neatly into smaller containers. Rhaziel keeps adjusting the placement in the basket to balance the weight properly. The basket fills quickly and efficiently, as if we’ve done this together before. It feels strange, but good; it's a very grounding task. I’m tying the last wrap of twine around a bundle of sandwiches when footsteps echo softly at the doorway. Allison pauses just inside the kitchen, hair damp and loose around her shoulders, fresh clothes soft against skin that finally looks like it’s had heat and water instead of smoke and blood. Her gaze flicks from the basket to the counter to us standing there like a very domestic conspiracy.
“…What’s going on?” she asks.
Evander straightens, wiping his hands on a towel. He glances at me, then at Rhaziel, then grins and gives her a very obvious thumbs-up. Rhaziel turns to face her fully and inclines his head once. My pulse kicks harder than it did in the war room. I step toward her before I can overthink it, stopping close enough to feel the quiet hum of her magic brushing mine.
“I was wondering,” I say, keeping my voice steady even as my heart thunders, “if you’d like to have lunch with me today, sweetheart.”
She blinks, then she looks between the others again, clearly registering the coordinated support, the lack of objection, the space they’re all deliberately giving us. Her mouth curves slowly upward, warmth blooming across her expression like sunlight breaking through clouds.
“A picnic,” she says. “In the middle of a war.”
I laugh softly, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah. I thought it’d be the most romantic time to have one.”
Her laugh answers mine, lighter than I’ve heard it in days. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Occasionally,” I agree.
She steps closer and slips her hand into mine without hesitation. “I’d love to.”
Evander reaches past us and snaps the basket closed. “Food’s packed,” he says cheerfully. “Don’t let him forget the fruit.”
“I won’t,” she promises.
Rhaziel lifts the basket before I can, then pauses and hands it to me. His gaze meets mine briefly, something unspoken passing between us.
“Take your time,” he says.
I nod, and Allison squeezes my hand once, then tugs me gently toward the door. We move together, the kitchen fading behind us, the weight of strategy and war receding just enough to make room for something softer. Today I'd just like to be with my soulmate.