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Linhardt knows to expect the dragons when he follows Khalid to Almyra. If the Salamance and Noivern didn't tip him off, the fact that there was a dragon-type with every one of the Almyran soldiers they fought beside in the war certainly would've.
There's also the explicit conversation he and Khalid had when Linhardt interrupted the awkward not-really-a-breakup-but-even-though-there’s-something-between-us-I-have-to-go-home and suggested that he could go to Almyra as well.
Khalid didn't say no. It was…unexpected. In a good way.
“There's a lot of dragon trainers back home. Are you going to be okay with that?”
Linhardt hadn't really known what to do with the sincerity of the question. Of all the things he'd experienced since reuniting with his chosen classmates, genuine vulnerability from their leader hadn't really been part of it.
“Why would I care?” Linhardt had tried to think of a known issue for any of his own Pokemon. Indeedee pointedly had no issue with almost any other species, and Solosis would hardly care. “Do they eat Delcatty or something?”
The laughter was a relief. So much more familiar. “No, nothing like that. I just know the Church doesn't condone training dragons, since they're considered sacred.”
Oh, that. As if Linhardt's ever cared about what the Church considers forbidden or taboo. “That just makes it more interesting.”
And that had been that.
So Linhardt expects the dragons. He isn't startled when Khalid's Salamance thumps down on their balcony or when he hears the echo of Noivern’s nightly hunts. He's already used to how silently Crobat flies, and none of Khalid's Pokemon seem to care about Linhardt's.
Well. That's not entirely true. Sometimes Salamance and Delcatty sunbathe together, and Noivern took a particular shine to Indeedee after it offered a few snacks.
The point is that Linhardt's fine with the dragons. Equally importantly, the dragons are fine with him. It makes Khalid happy, Linhardt thinks, to see Linhardt walk unflinchingly among the Garchomp and Gabite that guard the palace. Once, he woke from taking a nap slumped against a Drampa to see Khalid’s grinning face and soft eyes hovering over him.
Linhardt had wanted to kiss him quite badly in that moment. He didn't do it. Cowardly of him, yes, but…he’s so content here, surrounded by fascinating novelty and sharing space with a person who effortlessly matches the speed of his mind.
He knows that it means something for them to share common spaces. Linhardt has his own room and office, but they connect to Khalid’s rooms. Their Pokemon drift as they please, and the central lounge is very much for both of them.
Linhardt is not frightened of the dragons. He is a little frightened of Khalid.
Or maybe he's frightened of his own heart.
It's distracting. He keeps losing track of his thoughts, interrupted by wondering what it would be like to touch Khalid, to lace their fingers together, to lean against that warm, solid body and doze surrounded by comfort and affection.
He nearly misses the thump of Salamance’s landing, but he looks up in time to see Khalid sliding off its back.
“Welcome back.” Linhardt's voice is steady, less because he's good at hiding, and more because he isn't very good at showing. Is that too cowardly for someone in Khalid's position? Does he need to be braver?
“Thanks. How was your afternoon?” Khalid's smile is easy, playful, handsome. It quirks a bit when he looks at Linhardt, tilting his head in curiosity. “Actually, are you alright? You look a bit…troubled.”
The way Khalid tilts his head reminds Linhardt so viscerally of the Noctowl that's nesting near one of the windows in his office. He remembers reading somewhere that when Noctowl turn their heads, it indicates that they are deep in complex thought.
It's a sensible comparison. Khalid’s mind is full of layered and clever ideas, and Linhardt—
Linhardt is tired of being afraid.
“I think I'm in love with you.” He says it without any flowery words or romantic elegance. He's not sure if Dorothea would be disappointed in him, but it's the best he can do.
Khalid looks honestly surprised for a moment. It's strange. He's usually so careful with his expression, and there is something alongside the surprise that Linhardt can't quite puzzle out, but it becomes a grin so warm that he can't bring himself to mind. “Do you want to meet Lugia?”
“Yes.” Linhardt doesn't bother taking a moment to think, because it's a very obvious answer. If this is a distraction, it's one he's willing to accept. Khalid doesn't have to return his feelings. Linhardt isn't sure he expects it, anyway.
Khalid holds out a hand to help Linhardt up onto Salamance. It's easy to take it, easy to trust Khalid's ability to guide his dragon, painfully easy to wrap his arms around Khalid's waist while they fly to a cave far enough from the capital that Linhardt doubts he could remember the route on his own. That's probably the point.
After Khalid helps him down, he doesn't let go of Linhardt's hand. It's hard to guess what that might mean, and so Linhardt lets the fact of it wash over his mind without examination. He will take these moments of contentment. He will hold them dearly and closely, and if he is someday left alone and cold, they will still warm him.
They reach a wide ledge hanging over the water, and Khalid pulls out a silver bell Linhardt remembers seeing during the war, right after the battle at Fort Merceus. Its chime echoes against the stone walls for one…two…three seconds.
A massive white body breaches the water below, sending waves crashing against all sides of the cave. Despite how high up they are, Linhardt feels some of the spray against his face.
Lugia.
He's seen this creature once before. Khalid summoned its strength, then used its impossible appearance to deflect from anyone focusing on how he'd also summoned Almyran troops.
Linhardt had noticed. He hadn't pushed. It's unlike him.
It's funny to see it in hindsight and understand why.
“The only other person I've brought here is my mother.” Khalid says casually as tucks away the tide bell. He pulls Linhardt forward, near the far edge of the ridge, and holds out their joined hands.
Lugia raises up and nudges part of its massive head against them. Linhardt's breath catches in his throat.
Seeing the Immaculate One rise in battle wasn't half this awe-inspiring. It's a blasphemous thought, but Linhardt has never cared about that.
He cares about this. He understands that Khalid is trying to give him an answer without saying the words. He's showing Linhardt pieces of himself that he's shared with only one other person. It's an honor. It means that, if nothing else, Linhardt has not overstepped.
He won't push. It's fine. It's more than fine. He's content.
“I love you too.” Khalid is smiling gently when Linhardt turns to look at him, heart in his throat. “I know you're clever enough to read between the lines, but I figured if you were brave enough to say it plainly, I should do the same.”
Linhardt doesn't know if he'll ever have the courage to correct Khalid's assumption, but that's fine. He doesn't really need to. Not if he can take this instead.
He leans in closer, entwined hands still resting on a sacred beast, and brushes a gentle kiss against Khalid's lips. It's a question he's still frightened to ask.
Khalid answers with a firm certainty that Linhardt never could've imagined. They kiss in front of Lugia, in a cave where a child made friends with a legend, and Linhardt thinks he finally understands how dragons feel when they fly.