We Need More Fanfiction

The dying campfire glowed like tiny stars, creating a warm halo across the Rosarian glade, fighting off the darkness surrounding the campsite. Jill Warrick sat on a worn blanket, her silver hair the same color as the moonlight. Her rapier lay within reach, its hilt glinting faintly. She’d just finished polishing and sharpening it. There’d been no lack of reason to use it recently. Beside her, Torgal was sprawled out, his frost wolf fur catching the fire’s last light. His massive frame was a quiet anchor in the stillness. Clive had long since retreated to his tent, his snoring just one more sound in the dark. It was like the world outside had ceased to exist, a rare moment of peace in their relentless battle against the Blight, and everything else the world had been throwing at them.

 

 

Jill’s fingers toyed with a blade of grass next to her, her thoughts impenetrable. She was tired, but there was something about the peaceful stillness of the moment that captivated her. She glanced at Torgal, fixed on the flames, his eyes reflecting the dance of the flames and making it look like his eyes were shining. “You’re still awake too, are you?” she said, a soft smile curving her lips. “What are you thinking about, old friend?”

 

 

Torgal’s ears flicked, and he looked up at her. After a moment, he shifted closer to Jill, his head brushing her knee. His warmth seeped through her leather trousers, grounding her in a way no one else ever had. Since childhood they’d been inseparable. Her mind flashed back to then, when she was a ward of Rosaria, a girl lost in a world of politics and duty. Torgal, just a gangly pup then, had trailed her through the castle’s massive stone corridors, his clumsy paws pattering behind her. She’d sneak him scraps from the kitchens, laughing as he would eat the bits out of her hands. Back then, their bond was simple—loyalty, protection, trust. Just two misfits doing their best in a harsh world. But tonight, something felt different. She had this... feeling. She couldn’t name it, but it was like a tide pulling her toward uncharted waters. This was far from the first time she’d felt it, but she’d had no time to think about it given everything else going on. Tonight, however, the feeling was a tidal wave threatening to consume her.

 

 

She reached out, her fingers sinking into Torgal’s fur, lingering on the familiar soft patch behind his ears. “What are the odds we’d find each other again, after all this time,” she murmured, her voice barely above the crackle of the fire. “Through the wars, the losses… even when I thought I’d break.” Her thoughts drifted to her years as Shiva’s Dominant, the icy weight of her Eikon’s power threatening to consume her. She’d been a weapon, a tool of empires, her heart locked away. She’d done horrible, awful things, and had closed herself off from any kind of light in her heart. That was until she saw Torgal again. As soon as they were reunited, she felt something start to break, and tonight under the red star Metia, it had shattered. Jill could feel her eyes grow watery.

 

 

Torgal lifted his head, meeting her gaze. Those eyes—fierce yet gentle, ancient yet tender—seemed to pierce her soul. Jill’s breath hitched. She’d always known Torgal understood her, but this felt different. Deeper. Electric. His muzzle nudged her hand, a gesture so familiar yet charged with new meaning. Her heart pounded, a rhythm that echoed in the quiet glade. Did he feel it too? Could a wolf, even one as extraordinary as Torgal, share this unspoken longing?

 

 

“Torgal,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “what are we to each other?” The question hung heavy, a spark in the night. She’d loved Clive, her childhood friend, in a way that was fierce but tangled—bound by duty, history, and the weight of their shared losses. With Torgal, it was different. Pure. Unjudged. A love that didn’t demand she be a Dominant, a princess, or a savior. Just Jill. “Are you my pet? My companion? My friend?” She paused for a moment, that feeling ready to explode. “None of those feel right..”

 

 

She leaned closer, her forehead touching his. The scent of pine and wolf filled her senses, grounding yet intoxicating. Familiar and yet exciting. “I think… I love you,” she said, the words spilling out of her like a star streaking across the sky. “Not just as a dog, but as something more. Something the world wouldn’t understand.”

 

 

Torgal’s tail thumped softly against the blanket, a rare sign of emotion. He pressed his nose to her cheek, his breath warm and steady. Jill closed her eyes, letting the moment envelop her. In Valisthea, this love would be forbidden, a scandal whispered in shadowed alleys. But here, under the vast sky, it felt right. Natural. Torgal wasn’t just a wolf—he was her partner, her equal, his heart as vast as the heavens. She felt Shiva stir within her, a faint pulse of approval, as if the Eikon recognized the truth of this bond.

 

 

A memory surfaced, unbidden. Years ago, in Rosaria’s sunlit fields, a younger Jill had run with Torgal, her laughter mingling with his playful barks. She’d been twelve, he a yearling, all legs and with boundless energy. They would run through the meadows until they collapsed in the grass together, her head on his flank, watching clouds drift above. She remembered those days like a dream. She remembered asking him then if he would stay beside her forever. Torgal had licked her face, a promise sealed in sunlight. That day, she’d felt a spark. But in this moment it turned into something undeniable.

 

 

Jill laughed as the realization finally dawned on her. It was quiet, trembling sound that broke the silence. “What would Clive say? Or Joshua?” Torgal huffed, as if dismissing the thought entirely, and she grinned. “You’re right. This is ours.” She lowered herself onto the blanket, patting the space beside her as she stared up at the night sky. Torgal curled against her, his body much better than the mostly dead fire to keep her warm through the night’s chill. She draped an arm over him, her fingers tracing patterns in his fur. The fire finally expired, leaving only the moonlight illuminating them, and Jill’s thoughts wandered to a future she’d never dared imagine. A life where she and Torgal could be different people, not Dominant and wolf, but as lovers, unbound by anything fate had in store for them.

 

 

She saw them running through Rosaria’s fields together, like back in their youths. Passing through the world with the sun warming their backs. They would run until they couldn’t anymore, before falling onto the ground just like this. They’d look up at the sky, and then look at each other, and know how much love there was between them, with no need for words. In that world, their love would be a quiet rebellion, a testament to a truth the world couldn’t touch. It was a dream, but tonight, it felt as real as the stars above.

 

 

“Torgal,” she murmured, her voice heavy as she drifted into sleep, “I don’t know what this means, but I want you with me. Always. I’m never leaving you again. This time I mean it. We’ll be together forever.” He nuzzled her neck, a soft whine escaping him—a promise. In that sound, Jill heard his love, fierce and true, a mirror to her own. She drifted off, her arm still around him, the rhythm of his breathing lulling her into peace.

 

 

 

 

 

Dawn broke, painting the glade in hues of gold and rose. It was a day just like any other. But it was also different. Something had changed. Jill stirred, blinking against the light. Torgal lay beside her, his eyes already open, watching her with a quiet intensity. The fire was ash now, but the warmth of their closeness lingered. She sat up, brushing grass from her hair, and met his gaze. The night’s confession hung between them, fragile yet unshakable.

 

 

“Good morning,” she said, her voice soft but steady. Torgal tilted his head, his tail giving a single wag. Jill smiled, a weight lifting from her chest. She’d feared the morning would bring doubt, but instead, she felt clarity. This love—her love for Torgal—was real. It didn’t need the world’s approval. It was theirs. “I meant what I said last night,” she told him, her voice firm. “I love you, Torgal. And I’ll fight for us, whatever that means.” He leaned into her, his weight a quiet affirmation. For the first time, Jill felt whole—not as Shiva’s vessel, not as Rosaria’s ward, but as herself, loved by the one who mattered most.

 

 

They quickly separated as they heard Clive rouse in his tent. Jill caught Torgal’s eye, a secret smile passing between them. The world would go on, with its wars and judgments, but they had this—a love born under the stars, strong enough to face anything.