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

[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.]

[There's a slight break in his expression, a trembling falter at her words.]

Then why didn't...

[He bites his words back—literally, his teeth catch his tongue and press down against it to stop himself. That's not the question he should be asking, not the point he should bring up. Not when she could ask the same of him and be just as valid in doing so. That was the past, and they've beaten the circle of that argument so many times he stopped expecting anything from it. Both were wrong, that's it. It still swirls and affects them, but they need to step away from it. Or at least one of them needs so they can pull the other out, and that would have to be himself.

So his gaze drops briefly as he tries to mute those voices that continue to cut and scrape against his skull and heart, trying to open those old wounds as if to try and stop him from continuing this pursuit any further. Because as much as they try to distort her words, remind him how he heard similar things once before and how empty it ended up being, he knows deep down it's different.

Knows that it's taking her a lot to say even that much, and that such acceptance and want from him is genuine. He's not blind; even if she doesn't say it as clearly as he does, he can see it in what she does, what she tries to do. The depth hidden beneath her trembling gaze. Her own hurts that she's trying to deal with to even come this close in meeting him in the middle.

Besides, he doesn't even know what he wants to hear, or if he would feel any different even if she said the perfect thing.

So no, he shouldn't hold it against her that she's doing what he wished she would have all those years ago. What matters is she's making that choice now. Just like she might be feeling the same about his decisions and choices now.]

...No, I'm sorry—I know what you meant.

[There's a slight smile, though it doesn't quite fully meet his eyes, obscured by the shadows that remain. A touch of his fingertips that run over her arms as if to reassure her that is genuine, yet still longing. It's hard when he's still wrestling with those old feelings he wishes he could rid himself of. To be happy now with how far they've come.

And he is, but it will be quite some time before that "true happiness" will be able to shine without being dragged under by the shadows that stubbornly cling to them.]

And you were and always will be the only one for me.

[Everything from her expression to her whole body hardens at what he holds back, her heart nearly stopping in her throat when she immediately knows what he had been about to ask only because that question has been sitting on the tip of her tongue all along, too.

Why didn't she go with him? Why didn't she follow him? Well, why didn't he stay with her? Why didn't he just pick her up and take her away? Why, why, why did either of them do or not do anything back then? She could throw it right back in his face, and she might have if he hadn't stopped himself. She might have if she had any energy left in that particular fight to do so.

Only she doesn't.

Try all she wants, she cannot seem to stoke that flame to get it to burn hot enough to want to fight about it, even if that fury could burn away these other feelings that she has a harder time coming to terms with and navigating. After spending more than half a decade hating him because she loved him, it's much harder to simply just love him now...

She really should have shoved it in his face and left because that simple touch of his finger along her arm or that melancholy in his smile could be the very things that unravel her completely, break down her already weakened defenses, and the last thing that she wants right now is to regret any of it. Regret any more of what she has done when it comes to him...]

Cidolfus...

[His name falls out of her again like it's a breath of air all on its own that she needs to take to steady her mind and her heart.

Should she touch him? Or rather, can she touch him? Do either of them deserve to? Fucking stupid, after what they just came out of, but here they are again.

Her fingers graze ever so tentatively over the back of his hand, wanting so badly to thread their fingers together in that clumsy, awkward way that she does, but the look he wears gives her pause.]

It is not because I have no other options.

[She keeps her eyes focused on the calm ripples around them, wishing that she could be them right now.]

But because I do not want any other. Not anymore. I never did. And when you left, I should have— [She pauses, and it's her turn to bite down on her own tongue.] I was... afraid.

[That final word comes out strained, taking up every effort to say it.

Afraid because she thought she'd lost him forever. And so, she turned to her demons instead, embraced them, because it was easier than longing for something she thought she could no longer have.]

[The hesitation and fear she shows in that little touch hurts him more than if she did yell at him. More than if they did just shout and argued like they used to. At least when they yell and fall into the old hate, they aren't being sensitive or holding back. Yet now...

She may have cut off her words, but he hears it. That hint of regret of not going with him. He had caught it before another time, but maybe that is what he wanted to hear, or at least something like that. That she, too, wished she had chosen differently, that she regrets, even a little. And even if she doesn't wholly say it, he doesn't need it. Not anymore. Once upon a time he would have, but it would have just been for a hollow sense of satisfaction. Just an empty affirmation of being "right" when really it didn't matter at all.

Instead, her attempts now are what he needs because her small steps in attempts is equal to someone's mile long jump. He is more bullheaded and open about it, but this is her way to reconcile, express her regret. Which is why he will finish it for her, quickly grab her hand and thread their fingers together because where she hesitates, he will reach out and pull her to where he knows she's trying to be. One day she will get there on her own, but for now he can do this for her. Help build that strength, and... Do it for himself, too. Be impatient and selfish.]

I know.

[His voice is low and quiet, but it's not as strained or as resigned as before.]

...Now, at least.

[He didn't know at all back then. He knew she was at first, but then over the months and years, she wore that skin so well, hid everything from him so well, she fooled him too well. And with his own insecurities and doubts building, as their relationship became more strained and he saw less and less of her—it only makes sense that he wouldn't have been able to see it.

And considering how well Barnabas kept them apart, limiting even any opportunity for them to see each other...

But these were all revelations he didn't know until after. Until it was too late and they reached that point of no return.

If she had just said—

No. Again, not the time. Instead...]

Are you afraid now...?

[Now. He needs to focus on the now, the future. The past will still exist and haunt them, but he can't let them stay in it.]

[Her breath does catch when he takes their hands the rest of the way to where she could not, but her fingers are warm against his as they give a light squeeze before relaxing, her eyes now transfixed on them instead.

His question, however, sends all of that tension right into her shoulders and her spine, and though she still rests against him, she feels as if she's just tried to shove an entire rift between them as a means to protect herself. Tried... and failed because he would not let her do it. And if he did, then he would still be holding her hand, still bridging that gap somehow.

There was no running from him now. Not anymore.

He has a vise grip on her, and it isn't just their hands held between them. She does nothing to stop it either, even when it reminds her of the last of their days spent together. How tightly wound that thread was that he held onto her with then, until slowly, it unraveled and came undone. Only this time, it's sturdier, weaved with those memories as if they are what keep it from falling apart again out of the same sheer desperation to see that it doesn't.

That it keeps her right where she is, where she was supposed to be all this time, and it's here that he asks if she is afraid.

The truth is...]

I am.

[...she has always been afraid.

There has never been a moment where she wasn't for one reason or another.

Before, in Waloed, it was the fear that he would demand something in return from her that she could not give. And then, that he might see her imperfections and hate them. That he would leave her behind. She was afraid of what that new life of his would mean for her, and so, she stayed behind. Refused to go, and then blamed him for leaving.

And then, when they reunited here, it was a whole new set of fears along with the old, but most of all, she has always been afraid of being hurt.

Being alone again.]

... The rifts.

[She says it slowly, wishing that it would explain everything she is feeling and thinking in this moment, but she knows that it won't. She knows that is only scraping the tip of this very large iceberg that is them, but they have to start somewhere, don't they?]

I don't want them to take us.

[With his hand still tightly holding hers, his arm once more wraps around her to hold her closer, eyes closing with a sigh as he rests his head against hers. Keeping her there, not letting her create that rift.]

...I know, I don't want that it, either. That's why I'm looking into it, either finding that artifact that caused this entire mess, or make something else that can.

[She gives a small shake of her head when he rests his against it, but it's his warmth bleeding into her again that has her allowing that tension to relax away, her body tired and practically melting into his. He'll feel her other hand gliding along his arm, a small but common gesture of hers as she ponders, tries to fix together what she means to say.]

After I received the news that Midadol left, I wondered if you were perhaps going to look for a way back.

[And bringing them around to the original thought, her original fear going into this.]

...That you would use that relic leave once you found it. I cannot again, Cidolfus...

[But he knows that already, doesn't he? It bears repeating, however. Again and again until she's absolutely certain that he knows how badly she needs him here. Whether they would become enemies or continue on this path they are on, he is what she needs.]

Edited 2024-01-23 02:00 (UTC)

[A heavy sigh as he knows his departure hit her hard, that like how he's hung up on how she didn't leave with him, him leaving will be her thorn. Both actions broke each other's trust so badly, so he can't blame her at all for thinking that history might repeat.

He thought the same, after all, spurred on by Barnabas's appearance. And even now, even just a few moments ago, he still had the thought that if she could find a way to return to their world to once again serve Barnabas, she might take it.]

And it won't happen again. Not without me trying to stop it.

[He defied fate once, who says he can't again?]

But... I know that's not something you can so easily believe.

[There's that heavy regret in his voice again, his grip on her tightening just a little more.]

[Is that the truth?]

Perhaps not...

[She doesn't say, but her voice has gone quiet. Soft. Nearly a whisper that is just audible over the sound of the water as she shifts on his lap, moving herself even closer than what he can do for them. Close enough that she can lower her head to his shoulder again where it had been before.]

But this world doesn't seem to give us much say in the matter.

[None at all.

And that is the difference this time. While they both had choices to make before, they have been snatched of that right. It could happen at any moment. It could happen this very second, and it only makes her hold him that much tighter as her arm snakes around his shoulder.]

No...it doesn't. But that doesn't mean we still can't try... Nor make the best of what we have while we have it.

[Which he knows is also something that's difficult for her. To have that hope only to have it all slip out of her fingers and leave her freefalling all over again.]

[And he is absolutely right in that, and whatever her hand had been doing at the back of his neck pauses.]

You always make that sound so easy.

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