escordvi | closed ⚡🪶 and forevermore, i'll be chasing the storm we had.

[She breathes out with a partial laugh.]

I'm not so sure what my company would offer at times like this.

[She still thinks this is about comforting words and reassurances, which she cannot do.]

A distraction?

There is that. [A wry grin.]

But there's always more to it. Just like today.

[Her hands slide along his arms, up and down, bringing the water with it so that it trickles over his skin, the sound of it filling the silence that she lets follow.]

Today? You mean the skating and the pool?

[There's surprise edging her voice—]

This is something you would have done any other day. You would have dragged me out to do it.

[—before it quiets again.]

I was shocked when I'd heard of them and hadn't received a hundred messages from you before you knocked on my door.

True... But there's a difference between me planning something... And something that comes about due to your actions.

Might not have been what you had in mind, but it was thanks to you all the same.

[He keeps saying all these things that make her heart flutter with a sense of longing... that need to be needed. It's both frustrating and overwhelming, to say the least, and it only makes her hide further again.]

Well then... I suppose I could grant it... should you ever want it.

[They do have many, many years to make up for, don't they?]

But you have to ask next time.

I will.

[And he's going to give her a small, chaste kiss on the top of her head, lips lingering before he shifts slightly so that he can rest his head against hers, eyes closing slightly as he continues to take in her warmth.]

...I mean it, though. Usually I prefer to be by myself, not bother or worry anyone else about my own problems.

[Not show this side of him, especially when he had so many people looking up to him, to him for their own strength and guidance. Something he knows she knows well. He's carried that "leadership" role for so long, it's just like another skin, a part of him that will never go away. Which means the habits formed from them are hard to go away as well, if they ever could. Which, in many ways, can create a sense of loneliness that he doesn't even fully realize.

Or didn't quite realize until she screamed at him a few months ago about how he shoulders everything by himself.]

But you're the only one...I feel like I can.

[She shifts on his lap, her head turning just so beneath where he rests it against hers. She can't quite see him from this angle, so as she closes her eyes against the warmth of his neck, she thinks she can imagine what his expression might be.

As for her own, she can't help but smile a little at knowing this, but it's gone as quickly as it had come.]

You take on too much on your own.

[She's just going to give him that little reminder, just in case he needs it, because it's still frustrating, and part of why she nearly kicked down his door earlier this morning.]

You cannot shoulder it all by yourself. ... Not even this, Cidolfus.

[A small, heavy sigh.]

I know... I know.

[There's quiet resignation in his voice before his eyes close fully.]

...Really missed you, you know.

[Missed this.

And while he knows he has no right to say it, the words just...flowed out.]

[He might as well have taken a knife in his hands and shoved it through her heart right then and there and then let her bleed out into the water. The words strike her like lightning: quick, sudden, and sharp, and she feels as if she's lost the breath she'd been in the middle of taking, like it's been burned out of her to make room for that.

He really should have no right to say it, and hells, she swears she can hear Garuda somewhere in her head screaming, her claws raking across her insides to remind her of what he had done to her by leaving her behind. That he walked away from his vows, from his promises, from her. That he never came back to her. He should not be allowed to say it, or to feel it after that...

She could pretend she didn't care all she wanted and that she was better off without him, and maybe in some ways she was, but in other ways...

Benedikta still craved his attention. Still yearned for love... and in all her pursuits to find it again after she lost his, she found herself wishing more and more that she could have it back. No matter how tightly her liege held her, in the end, she still felt... empty.

That must be what it feels like to miss someone so deeply. That no one could fill that hole that they left after they are gone, no matter how hard one tries to find something that could.

But to hear it from him after spending six years wondering—no, believing that he'd fully left her behind and forgotten her, it aches so terribly.

She should be happy to hear it, and a part of her is, but the rest of her just feels... sad. Lonely.

"You shouldn't have left me then. You should have come back for me," is what she should say, and she would have before, not even a few months ago, but now, even as she opens her mouth to protest, she cannot bring herself to.]

... You've done a poor job of showing it these past few days if that is the case.

[And while that is the cold hard truth, she helps to soften the blow by lifting herself up so that she can kiss him gently, briefly.]

[He knows he shouldn't and he almost regrets it.

Almost.

But at the same time, he wanted her to hear it, selfish as it may be. And foolish it may be.

She refused him, rejected him, didn't listen to him no matter how many times he tried to tell her the truth. She didn't follow him and until the very end she didn't take his hand. And so, like her, for all those years he believed she really did stopped loving him. Made him question and doubt if she ever loved or cared for him at all. And he would have continued to believe it until his own death were it not for that one singular proof that is currently hanging around her neck even now.

But in those years, he did doubt, question, tried to forget—but he really couldn't. They lessened, surely, but they would spark up again like a curse, especially whenever he caught wind of her movements or they happened to meet—and each encounter ending worse than the last. And each time it would just leave that large, vacant hole that could never be filled no matter how hard he tried to the point that he stopped trying. The only people he could love from then on was Mid, who understandably took up most of it, and the friends and companions he gathered.

And really... This may be the first time he's even consciously thinking or voicing it as well. Realizing how much he did miss her now that he has her back like this—even if she still threatens to fly away at any given chance.

So he wasn't sure how she'd react. He felt her stiffen and he half expected her to even pull away in resentment. Thus the kiss and her words surprise him a bit—and sting a little since it's true, he's done a poor job.]

...Hope I've at least made up some of it.

[The kiss surprised her, too.

But it still doesn't take away from that sting that they both feel; that ache that settles deep within her heart that reminds her of all the time that they have missed out on because they were both too stuck within their own dreams to see what they would truly miss...

And that was each other. It always was.

Even when she had her claws to his throat, even when she tried to send him to his death in that chapel, it was all because of her anger and resentment born out of missing him. Wanting what she could no longer have. Still loving and longing for him even after he left her behind. It hurt then, and sometimes it still hurts now. That pain has dulled some, but she's sure that for both of them, it will never completely go away.

But they continue to push through it anyway, somehow.]

Some.

[She cants her head at him, and while she's steeled her gaze, it does soften a touch, those unsaid words reflecting back at him when she can't bring herself to say them out loud.

That she missed him, too.]

You've still a long way to go before you've fully repaid that debt.

[That is to say... she wants to spend more time with him. Wants him to want to spend time with her.]

[He might not fully catch or know her thoughts or meaning, but he can at least get an idea. Enough that he knows she's not pushing him away or flying off.

Truly... Just her staying even after all that speaks volumes. More than words could ever say, even if she were brave enough to voice them.]

Then I'll work hard to do so.

[His voice is quiet only because his lips now brush against hers for another kiss.]

No matter how long it takes.

[...Even if takes the rest of his life. This second life.

He won't make the same mistakes again. He refuses it.]

[She takes the kiss, even if she stiffens in his arms when those new feelings rush over her. Good feelings and bad feelings alike, but feelings that make her hold him that much tighter, kiss him again that much deeper, as if she means to never let him go.

And maybe she does. Maybe she plans to hold him fast to her, crush him to her in that same way that he does so often to her...

Especially when the possibility of him leaving is there, those thoughts from earlier rearing its ugly head all over again.

It's only then that she pulls away from him, breaking that second kiss and pressing her lips together as if to secure them away from him. Her jaw ticks as she wrestles with this sudden onslaught that really isn't so sudden. They have been there, lingering, since she watched him fall asleep and this has all but roused them again.]

... Until you plan to return, no?

[—and the words slip out of her before she can even think to stop them.]

[He initially tries to chase her, but he stops when he sees how her lips are pursed and that pensive look. It surprises him a little, wondering what she could be thinking—]

Sorry?

[There's just blank, dumbfounded look as he stares at her.]

Return...where?

[She doesn't even dare meet his eyes, knowing full well what they will tell her, and out of fear of what they may if he answers.

...

....]

Back to Valisthea.

[She says it quietly, not wanting to bring too much life into the thought.]

To be with Midadol.

[...A.....h.....

It's a good thing she doesn't look, or she would have seen a very pained, complicated expression there. See how she knocked the wind out of him.

Once again he's reminded...

...

She doesn't know.

She doesn't know he's dead. Doesn't know that he cannot go back even if he wanted to.

...If he wanted to.]

...I'm not going back.

[His voice is quiet, but firm, the tension that had unwittingly building within him releasing out.]

I told you before, didn't I? That I would stay here with you.

[He should tell her.

He needs to tell her.

Everything in his gut, mind, and heart is yelling at him. Fuck's sake, even Ramuh is probably yelling, a sense of thunder rumbling through him. Yet he just throws all the noise into a hole and shuts it. Shuts it and locks it up because he still cannot bring himself to tell her the truth. Would it make it easier for him? Maybe. But it also could make things worse and that—

That is what makes him run and hide and think, "Another time."

Even if he knows that's only going to make that "another time" so much worse and bite him so hard in the ass.

But even if he were still alive, he would stand by his decision, and his reasons...]

Edited 2024-01-22 05:40 (UTC)

[She doesn't know if she feels relieved to hear it. That certainly isn't relief tugging at the already-frayed threads of her heart, nor is it relief that makes her chest constrict. No, the feelings that settle there and make her stomach drop is not gratitude or solace in his answer.

Rather, it's guilt.

Something of a foreign emotion to her. One that she often shoved aside more and more as she climbed further out of the pits of her past. And she'd forgotten how daunting it can be.

Her gaze flicks to him for a heartbeat, if that, before she's forced to look away again, that conflict in his expression too much of a burden for her to bear alongside this revelation. He's told her these things before... promised her that he would make it up to her, that he would never leave her, but—]

I thought that changed... after Midadol...

[That gaining his daughter and then losing her again might be the trigger he needed to go back.

And he'll see that stifled fear in the wrinkle of her brow, the quiver of her lip, and the way she downcasts her gaze.]

[He sees it, feels it, hears it. And it hurts because he knows why she would feel that way...and why she would feel even more afraid of it.

Now it's his turn to press his lips against her brow before he answers.]

It didn't.

[A small exhale against her skin as he hugs her close.]

Yes, I will miss her... But I know she is well taken care of. And who knows, maybe we can figure out something with the rifts that could allow us to meet or communicate more freely instead of this random nonsense.

[He pulls back to tip her chin up to him.]

Mid will always be there... But you will not. So that just means I need to find a way to have all of us together. Whether it's somehow bringing you back there with me, or bringing her back here should she wish it.

[Obviously that's Mid's choice. But he hopes he's getting his meaning across.]

Regardless, this is my choice. You are my choice.

[Her breath catches suddenly when he takes her chin and forces her to look at him. Either way, whatever answer he gave her, she knew it would be too much. Whether it was a promise to stay or an admission that he really did want to leave and go back to a place where she could not follow, it would ache one way or another.

How much, she didn't know, but it's devastating and absolutely soul-crushing when she finds out because those are words that she wished she heard six years ago. Five, four, three years ago... That he would choose her over his disloyalty, over his mission, over his charges and everything else in his life. She knows that the what-ifs are useless and that their past is forever stained by his leaving, of their betrayal to each other, but she can't help but feel that sharp twinge of "I wish, I wish, I wish" in her chest.

An ache so powerful that she nearly asks him why he hadn't chosen her the same way then... when she was still alive. Still breathing in the world that they did share. In a world she could follow him back to if she made that choice.

No matter how much they both claim to have "moved on" or try to, it was never going to be an easy thing for them to reconcile.

And as their gazes remain locked, he no doubt can see that turmoil swirling about in her eyes. She opens her mouth, sighs, closes it, not sure what to say, and she blinks hard to fight back the burning that she feels coming on.]

... You truly haven't forgotten your promise?

[It's a good thing she doesn't ask because it would only launch them into that endless cycle of why she didn't choose him back then...

...And a part of him wonders if she would choose him now. If she would follow him if given the choice...especially if Barnabas was still around. If the positions were reversed, if he were dead and she were alive, would she choose to stay with him in this life or go back to her king?

He doesn't want to think about it so he won't, for he fears the same thing she does. Which is why it's another reason why he's so foolish right now, choosing a woman over everything else, even if he really doesn't have much of a choice to make. But if he did...he feels his answer would still be the same.]

I haven't.

[...But that bit of fear does creep in, and his fingertips rub against her shoulder before they find the thin, slender chain around her neck and drift down to the pendant that hangs just above the water.]

...But what of yours?

[He's been offering a lot to her. Way more than he should, and he's made it clear. But what of her? Sure he can sense it, feel it, but... Well given everything, it's only fair that he has some of those same doubts and questions lingering still, and it's only fair for him to ask of her the same.]

Edited 2024-01-22 08:31 (UTC)

[She stiffens, first when he fingers the pendant against her chest, and then again at his question. It's a question she should have seen coming given everything that she's asked of him and everything that he's answered back, but she still wasn't prepared for it. A fool she is to not have foreseen it, because while she does, in her heart, know the answer to that question, it's allowing it to find its way out of her that's the hard part.

How does she voice something when she is scared that doing that much will be the first domino of many that will lead to her inevitably being left behind again? Even if he makes that choice to stay with her, even if he chooses her in this lifetime, there is still that ever-looming risk that he will be pulled back to their world without having a say in it.

What happened the last time she considered telling him everything? Spilling her heart to him?

And though this isn't that, it certainly feels that way simply by virtue of this whole thing hitting so close to home again.

It was one thing to have Barnabas disappear, and she is still reconciling that, but to have him disappear from her grasp too? What would she even have left? Even if she did have a choice to leave, what is it that she has left in that world?

Would Garuda still be gone? Would Barnabas still toss her to the streets? She failed him, so why wouldn't he, just like all the rest who do? He had said that he would count on her here, but she only bowed her head out of fear for the malice that swims in his eyes. That cold, invisible blade that he keeps pressed to her throat.

But here, with Cidolfus...

She has their promises, at the very least, and that's more that she can say for what she has in Valisthea, dead or alive at this rate.]

I have not forgotten, no...

[Is that all he's asking of her though? She feels like there is more weight to his question, but she doesn't know what else to say, or rather, how to say it without that ever-steady guiding hand of his. A steady, guiding hand that she seek out with her eyes, the rare vulnerability sinking into her gaze as she looks him over, silently asking him in that way she always has for his help.

What is it that he wants?]

Edited 2024-01-22 15:34 (UTC)

[It's....an answer that mirrors his own, so it should have been enough. Yet it's not, and those feelings and thoughts he tried to keep behind that door all these yeara rattle louder and louder the longer he looks at her. Her own hesitation and questioning gaze just stokes that fire that now burns that door, melts the chains and locks as he's once again reminded of that fateful night, of that time when he made his decision and made one last effort while still already plagued with those doubts. That night where he wanted to yell out his own true feelings, but the hurt had been too much, sealing them in instead.

Don't trust her, the voices whisper through that slowly disintegrating door. She used you once before she will use you again.

She didn't listen to your warnings.

She didn't follow you.

She didn't choose you.

She didn't love—]

Would you do the same?

[The words spill out in a low, trembling voice that surprises even him. So much so that his eyes briefly widen before they harden as he can no longer take them back. He swears at himself, though, because he feels this is something that may still be too soon and too much for her. A question that needs to be said, but perhaps at a better time...

...

Then again, isn't this a perfect time? He's here having to reassure her when he's also afraid of losing her again, especially right on the heels of Mid's return. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Shouldn't he also express his own wishes and desires, to be selfish in a time where he feels lowest?

Too often has he set aside his own feelings to take care of others, to move forward instead. To think of the bigger picture, sacrificing himself so others wouldn't. And he would still do it, gladly even, and yet the one time he should have drawn a line and acted selfishly, he didn't. And look where it ended up.

So he doesn't take that question back and instead presses forward.]

If... You had the choice to be with me or go somewhere else...

[His eyes are piercing, that storm of emotions unable to hide the hurt of betrayal from that night six years ago, and while he's not trying to, his words undoubtedly will cast them back to that time.]

Would you choose me now?

[After all these years, he could somewhat understand why she didn't. He figured it out after some time, but it didn't make the hurt less since at the end of the day she rejected his offer, rejected his ideals, rejected his ability to save and protect her—rejected him. But he could at least understand it, and over time he stopped blaming her, letting all that bitterness and resentment die and be sealed behind that now broken door.

But what about now?

Would she still hesitate?

Would she still not believe in him enough?

...Love him enough?

He knows it would be far too much to expect a declaration like his own and he doesn't even know what to expect now. Would he even be able to trust her answer, whatever it is? Yet he desperately seeks it all the same, wanting to know that everything he's doing has not been for naught.]

[That had been what she was afraid of... that he would ask her what she would do were the roles reversed, because it is far too much for her. A commitment she isn't sure that she is ready to make fully yet, or so she tells herself. She falls back onto her fear of what lies ahead, of the unknown, instead of being willing to take that leap and know that he will catch her should her wings be unable to keep her afloat. It isn't that she is afraid of him—not anymore—but rather, that she is afraid that she will slip and take that tumble alone.

That she will end up right back where she was before all of this. Before all the changes that happened. That she will end up alone again. Sad. Angry. Poisoned by resentment and stilled by fear.

So, besides the hand that comes up to touch his and the pendant that he holds, he'll feel her freeze in his arms, her gaze cast aside when she can no longer hold his and can finally free herself from it.

Would she choose him, if given the choice? It's not something she's thought about much considering that she doesn't have a choice, but if she did... what would she do? If she were alive in Valisthea... if she had the chance to go back to her old life, would she?

Even now, after she has gotten a taste of this one? Of one that she had wished for, longed for all these years?

Her eyes sweep up to meet his again, and she's silent as she searches intensely, as if she'll find the answers she is looking for within his. She knows that she won't, but she can't help but do it anyway. A hard habit to break, even after spending so much time apart.

It isn't as if she doesn't know, or that it is him that she fears. No, she always knew how much her heart ached for him... but it is everything else that holds her back and keeps her rooted where she stands, toes at the edge and too afraid to jump. That has always been the way with her, and it still is, she knows this. It's why she continues to hide behind that resentment and wrath when it becomes too much for her to handle.]

Where else would I go, Cidolfus?

[The words spill out of her faster than she can think them. It might not be the answer he is looking for, but there is a deeper meaning behind it. One that she is trying to voice but can't quite find the right words to.

Where else would she go but to him? Where else could she go when every other place, every other person is either gone or would turn their back on her? Where else but to the only person who is willing to open his arms to her even after everything? To look past her faults and all the terrible things she knows she's done and still care for her in spite of that?]

... Who else could I choose?

[Who else would she choose?]

[Where else...

He's not sure how to take that answer. On the one hand, he understands on many levels that she is afraid, a product of circumstances and she seeks his safety and comfort, but—]

So because you have no other options?

[He doesn't mean to sound bitter, but it can't be helped. Not when she had that choice back then and made very clear who she would choose and why. So while that may not be what she meant, her choice of words... Not the best.]

[Her own eyes narrow, almost impatiently, at him but her voice remains even. Quiet.]

That is not what I said, Cidolfus.

[Nor what she asked... but despite the way her voice shakes, she can't even be mad at him for misinterpreting her meaning, or not picking up on what she is trying to tell him. As much as she'd prefer to bite back at him with equal bitterness, she can't, and maybe that fury is rising slowly in her chest as she's once again reminded of their past and the sad, bitter memories that fill it, but she can't bring herself to yell at him like she used to.

Hell, she can barely bring herself to be upset with him like she used to, and fuck, that was so much easier to do than this is now.

Which is why it takes her longer still to try and come up with a proper meaning behind these thoughts that assault her and threaten to make her buckle under their weight. Only seconds pass, but it feels like an eternity in her head with how her heart is racing.]

You are the only one...

[Her voice breaks before she can even finish the thought, and the rest spills out of her unbidden and so quickly on a single breath before it can do it again or before she can scare herself away from it. From him.]

The only one who would still accept me. The only one I ever wanted it from.

[Love. She means love.

She should get up. She should just leave.]

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