Had it Been Anyone Else
What happens when the love of your life is in love with your brother, and he is in love with her?
If Ilyana had fallen in love with anyone besides his brother, he would have fought for her affections. Yet it was Ernol she looked at, her green and brown flecked eyes so filled with love.
Had she looked at someone else that way, Haron wouldn’t have hid his feelings for Ilyana, assured he’d be able to win her over in time. As things stood, he knew Ernol would never let her go. Why would he? Ilyana had managed to get past his brother’s emotional battlements, something not many people had achieved. Ernol was possessive and quite jealous, once he became attached. Haron had seen how fervently Ernol worked for the things he wanted, and the substantial effort he’d put into rising up the ranks of the Forces. How much more would he do for Ilyana?
As a testament to how much Haron would do for both her and Ernol, he buried his feelings. Pretended he no longer loved Ilyana, even though he loved her with his whole heart. He also loved his brother, enough so that he wouldn’t come between Ernol and the one he held most dear.
His brother changed because of her, as much as it pained him to admit. Ernol wasn’t quite so pessimistic now, he smiled and laughed more. He’d told Grandmother she was wrong about Ilyana, and even questioned Grandfather’s orders. Ilyana was the catalyst that pushed Ernol into becoming who he could be. A man who learned to examine his loyalties while staying true to his convictions. Through her, he had found what was truly important to him. She had shaken up his brother’s life, but he’d come out better for it. For that, Haron secretly thanked her.
You can read the rest here on Ao3!
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wip wednesday - part 1
@thefloweranon requested i post more snippets of my ebon light stuff so!! here's a lil snip of ernol and my oc i made for him, noa!
It’s hard to tell much about where she is or how long it’s been, when she finally wakes.
The first thing that comes to her is the pain—this, at least, is familiar. What isn’t as familiar are the satiny sheets she lays on, the smell of lavender and something like sandalwood filling her nose with the first deep breath she takes. When her eyes flutter open, she finds darkness, half a canopy over the bed she lays in that suggests where she might be. Moonlight floods in from the windows, but no lights are lit in her room. She is grateful for the darkness, as it keeps the throbbing in her head to a minimum.
“You’re awake.”
It’s almost comical, the relief that washes over her at the familiar voice by her bed. She turns her head slightly and finds him there, sitting with his back ramrod straight, eyes sunken and skin even paler than she’s used to. Ernol leans forward hesitantly, resting his arms on the mattress and—after a moment of hesitation, he slides his hand under and into one of hers, squeezing tight like he’s trying to assure himself that she’s really there.
He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, and then deflates a moment later, slouching and running his thumb over the back of her hand.
“...you’re awake.”
She squeezes his hand back with a wry grin.
“I don’t know. I feel like I must be dreaming if you’re in my bedroom, Ernol.”
Despite the way he scoffs, his lips tug into a rueful grin, eyes darting across her features as he shakes his head. “Must you joke even now, Noa?”
She smirks at him. “It’s a coping mechanism.”
He grins even wider for a brief moment, and she swears the room gets a bit brighter, before his fear breaks through his mask once more, and he sighs, shaky and low. He cradles the hand he holds with both hands now, skin gentle and soft despite his combat training.
“I have never been so frightened, Noa… I… And—and then the way you were talking before you passed out. I thought…”
Noa laughs softly. “Oh dear. I must have said something ridiculous.”
“You don’t remember?”
He sounds… upset by the thought. Trying to clear the haze of pain from her mind, she turns to look at him a little more fully, blinking to bring her eyes into focus. She tilts her head as she says, “I remember some of the things I said. Why?”
“You called me…”
“Mysao’ora?”
“Love.”
Ah.
She had done so, hadn’t she?
She smiles ruefully, squeezing his hands and shrugging as best she can. “Is it such a surprise? We’ve been friends for ages. You’re my best friend. Of course, I love you.”
“That…” he starts, brow furrowed, but he shakes his head before he can finish that sentence. “I… have been blind, I think. I have been a blind fool who needed what he had to nearly be stripped from him before he realized what was there.”
Her stomach flips, and she watches him carefully as she asks, “What do you mean?”
“I’m…” He pauses, shifting in his seat to lean in closer, wetting his lips as he tries to find the words. His thumbs still stroke at her hand as if to ground himself instead of her. “I’m in love with you. I love—I love you, Noa. I love you.”
Noa can feel her smile pull painfully at the wound on her cheek, and two tears drip into her hairline as she laughs weakly into the dark. She had never thought to hear those words from his lips. Had never thought—but it feels good all the same.
When she doesn’t answer right away, his voice comes again, soft and pleading.
“Say something.”
Noa looks over at her best friend—at the man who she has spent nearly all her life with, those dark, fathomless eyes fixed desperately on her face. He looks so different to how he usually looks. Vulnerable, open. Gentle. It makes her ache with the need to reach out and smooth away the worry between his brows, to cup his cheeks in her hands and tell him it’ll all be alright. To be the safe harbor he has always needed.
But she can’t really move with the injuries she has now.
“I love you, too.”
“How?”
She snorts. “How? What do you mean, how, Ernol?”
“How do you mean?” he asks again, leaning forward. “As a friend, or…?”
“Beloved,” she starts, and she smiles as his ears flush with color, “I have been in love with you for a while now.”
He smiles, shifting in his seat as though itching to close the distance between them. “How long?”
“So long that I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t.”
Ernol makes a sound that is somewhere between a laugh and a sob, leaning forward to press his forehead against her hand. “Noa, why didn’t you ever say something?” he groans into the comforter, though his eyes are glittering with happiness when he peeks at her. “You should have told me sooner.”
She shakes her head. “You deserve someone worthy of your pedigree, Ernol. I’m… I’m nothing.”
“Nothing?” he repeats, sounding positively scandalized. “You graduated top of our class from the Academy. You have consistently had the highest scores in every subject we—”
“But I am a halfling, Ernol,” she interrupts gently. “You are already contending with your own diluted blood. Your reputation didn’t need a half-human lover in the mix.”
He scoffs. “You say that as if you are some random barmaid I picked up at port and not one of the best strategic minds to come out of our generation of Gha’alian soldiers.”
She squeezes his hand. “The distinction doesn’t matter as much to people as you think it should, my love.”
Though he flusters at the pet name, he presses forward, adamant now. “Then we will make them see, Noa. I will make them see. It’s not—you are not—not less than anyone else. In fact, you are worth more than most of them combined.” Ernol moves, then, shifting to sit on the side of the bed and reaching out to brush her hair from her face. “I would not care if you were part human or part frog, you know that? I’m… I know it seems all of a sudden, even to me, but I think this isn’t a new feeling at all. I love you. I want you by my side. I want—I want…”
He trails off as he seems to realize the position he is in, hovering over her in a dark bedroom. She smiles, watching as his eyes are drawn to her lips as a moth to a flame.
“Can I… Can I kiss you?”
Noa laughs. “I shall be very offended if you don’t, I think.”
That pulls a startled laugh out of him, but he doesn’t waste another moment, bending to sink his lips into hers with a quiet groan.
It is, immediately, everything she ever thought it would be—and so much more.
All those years training beside him, learning with him, have prepared her well for this moment. His body language, his movements, his very breath—it is all as clear to her as a picture book. Every move he makes is graceful and elegant, much as he is when he moves on the battlefield. It’s a familiar dance, somehow, despite never having kissed him before, to follow his lead, to mirror his movements until his tongue has slipped between her lips and her brows have furrowed, one hand lifting to tangle into his hair, to hold him right where she wants him. He does nothing but groan into her lips, and the mattress dips as he shifts, breaking the kiss for only a moment to settle on his hands and knees above her before his mouth is back on hers, teeth sinking into her lower lip in his haste.
He presses against her gently as her arms wrap around him to pull him closer, sighing into his lips as the warmth of his body sinks into her bones. The pain of her injuries is something she only barely notices, too overwhelmed with the sensation of his body against her, too lost in the feeling of his lips against hers, of his tongue in her mouth, of his breath on her skin.
“I love you,” she mumbles into his mouth, nails digging into his back as they pant into each other’s lips. “I love you so much, Ernol. I’ve wanted you for so long, I can’t—”
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