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

[As he had been deep in his thoughts and pensive about how she would answer, the kiss surprises him, eyes shaking and body trembling for a moment both from the action and the intensity from it. From the desperation he can feel her trying to tell him otherwise.

And again all he feels is a heartrending ache instead of relief. Because to know that she really felt everything but that. To know she really probably felt...

In the end, all he can do is rush back to her, his lips crushing hers with the same force as his arms do to hug her to him. Wound be damned, he needed to. Needed to convey that same feeling, that same desperation.]

[She can't help the small sound that tumbles out of her when he rushes her, or when his arms wrap around her, these deeper emotions ebbing away for a moment to make room for the passion that flares up. Those feelings that he made her feel—makes her feel, even now.

It's these feelings that make her realize just how hollow her heart had felt after she had left, and why she filled herself with so much hatred and rage instead. Just so she could feel something for him, even if it was anger and hurt and everything in between.

She allows herself this, deepening the kiss for as long as her heart will allow her before she peaches him completely. When she pulls back, her lips rub gently against his, noses brushing, the tattered heat of their breaths mingling, and her lashes tickle his cheeks when she opens her eyes.]

Those days before you left, Cidolfus...

[Her voice is strained, thick with that anguish.]

I was scared.

[It's with great reluctance and restraint that he keeps himself still, to barely try to even his breaths as his eyes search hers.]

Of what?

[His voice comes out rougher than expected, but he doesn't care. Only a myriad of possibilities flash through his mind, each one worse than the last.]

What were you afraid of that you couldn't tell me?

[And then in a voice more strained than he intends—]

That I couldn't take you from?

[—while knowing what that answer could be.]

[...

Does he really not know? Did he really not see the way that she watched him on those nights out on his terrace? Or as he hunched over his desk? Or when they would lie in bed together, just like this, but with a rift so wide between them that she was too afraid to leap across to find him? To go to him? To pull him back to her...?

Had fate really, truly pulled them so far apart then that he could not see that longing in her gaze?]

It was nothing that you could take me from.

[If that is what he thinks... then maybe he didn't.]

...I was afraid that you no longer... [There's a pause and, though brief, it weighs heavy.] ...Felt anything for me anymore.

[That he no longer loved her.]

[His eyes widened as if she just sprouted another head.]

How—

[Compared to the storm of emotions he felt before, this is a completely different one. Confusion, disbelief, consternation, all of it is clear in his eyes.]

No longer felt anything? All those times I tried to meet with you, wanting to see you—

[No, no, don't get caught in that trap. That trap where they just spiral down of the what's and not the why's or how's. So he takes a steadying breath, so while his voice is a little calmer, his head is still swimming.]

I thought you didn't want anything to do with me.

[She lets him voice his thoughts, knowing full well that saying what she said would take them here.

Here...? How foolish had she been to think that this would remain about the woman on the boat and how trapped she was? How Benedikta wished she could take her away? Sure, that had been the catalyst, but was it ever about that?

Or was it about him?

...

But it's her turn to stare at him equal amounts of confusion and disbelief—so much that she pulls back further that they can easily see the way they mirror one another now.]

I did. I thought...

[She furrows her brow, the image of his younger face then overlapping with what he is now, a certain sadness draping over him.]

... You always felt so far away.

Only because you were.

[But he's not saying that in an accusatory way. No, while they did become emotionally distant, they were also physically distant. She in Dhalmekia dealing with Hugo, him always sent on different expeditions to the point where he spent more time abroad than in Waloed.]

And you—

[Here he frowns, old words...voices that he had long axed away from his memories trickling in. His brows furrow and he studies her for a moment before he slowly speaks, watching her every movement and expression.]

...More than once. More than once, whether it was after your return from Dhalmekia or my own expeditions, I sent you a message to try and meet, but I can only count on one hand the number of times we actually did. Either you never responded or a messenger found me to say you cancelled it, saying you had other matters to attend to.

[With those "matters" usually involving Barnabas. The first few times he brushed it off because they were reasonable. Things happen, and she had her own duties. But then as they kept happening and he heard the whispers over time, he became more agitated and frustrated to the point that at some point he stopped sending those messages. Gave up any expectations...but still desperate and foolish enough to take whatever crumb he could still receive until that, too, he no longer could. But now...

...

The way he speaks, the way he looks at her is again not accusatory. It's careful questioning. Searching. Doubting his own words.]

...Did you really?

[Because if what she had said before is true—if she had really wanted to see him, if she had been hurting the same way as he... Then why would she avoid him to such extent? Why would she try not to meet with him?

Sure, some of them may have been true, but... All of them?

And now that that idea has planted in his mind, when he remembers how they were both manipulated in the end, more doubts grow.

As does his anger.]

Edited 2024-01-28 08:07 (UTC)

[She can sense the storm roiling underneath that always steady demeanour of his, but she doesn't shy away from it. She never did, even then—she would instead take his hand and squeeze it without a word, just like she is now. Except his words have her stiffening, more of that confusion setting between her brow. He doesn't mean to sound accusatory, but she can't help feel just a bit defensive about it because—]

I never received any of those messages.

[The number of nights she spent wondering why he was so distant, why he was always quiet around her even when she did finally come for him felt endless at the time. So much that her mind had ended up spinning them into the poison that she kept on her tongue for all those years to follow.

She slides her arm out from around him and slowly sits up, but she remains at his side, looming over him.]

I always came...

[She would have flown down the halls if they could fit the span of her wings. So then why would he say such things?]

[There's just a slight shake of his head, which is still spinning. She's come to him, yes, but not always. And to hear her say she never received them...

In the past he would have doubted her, but now? No. He believes her.

Just to be sure, he lists a few occasions, to see how different her memory may be.

Meet by the stables after her return in X month.

Try to share a dinner after he returned from Y mission.

Just a simple meeting before he left for Z expedition.

He could provide more, but these were ones he remembered and brought up because—]

On each of these occasions, I waited, but you never came. Instead, someone else appeared to tell me you weren't coming. What's more... My subordinate told me he had to leave the note with one of your aides because you weren't there.

[But the ones she did come—he knew she had received it directly.

And it's only now that he realizes this.]

[And with each occasion, Benedikta shakes her head. She remembers each and every moment they spent together in those last months before he left, and none of those memories come to her. If she had received them, he would not be listing them today. She had so desperately wanted to be with him, so desperately wished he would still look her way, but by then, his eyes had fixed on some distant point elsewhere, somewhere far on the horizon...

The pieces should not be falling into place so easily, but they do.]

Cidolfus...

[She says his name softly, but firmly, as she leans over him.]

If I had known... I would have come... I always wished that you would, but—

[Barnabas. She stops herself, the unsaid name a chill that descends over her.]

I kept getting called away.

[Away from him. Away and away until that wedge had grown so thick that she stopped reaching out to him, too. Accepted that it was just the way things were now. Relished in the power that it gave her when she felt unwanted. Unneeded elsewhere.]

Edited 2024-01-28 20:02 (UTC)

[That was all that he needed to hear.

I kept getting called away.

All he needed to confirm the suspicion that had suddenly bloomed—]

....Son of a bitch—!

[—and sends his fist punching the wall, aether crackling around it as all those dots, all those connections he should have caught but had been too worn down and blinded to see.]

Should have killed him when I had the chance—

[She hardly flinches when his fist flies at the wall, mostly because she is too caught up in her own confusion to have much of a reaction to it besides her eyes moving to where the aether filters into the air.

If he had truly sent those messages and she never had the chance to see them, hell, to even receive them... all the while being constantly beckoned to their liege's chambers or to the throne room or to the table to share a private meal... It doesn't take a fool to put two and two together, but that she had not...

Was she really so blind? So caught up in seeking her king's approval and finally getting it that she had not been able to see what was going on? Near the end, she had grown spiteful, left even without being called because if Cidolfus did not want to see her, then she would find someone who did. On the outside, she was bitter, angry, hurt, but on the inside...

How deeply she yearned for him to just look at her that same way he used to. Just once.

Which made it hurt that much more when he'd left, and then it hurt even more when they saw each other again.

Her stomach twists into fearful, uncomfortable knots as her hand reaches up for his, fingers curling around his wrist to drag it down from the wall as she says his name one more time with a voice so quiet it's as if she fears Barnabas might be listening, even now.]

You know how that would have ended.

Edited 2024-01-28 22:51 (UTC)

[His gaze turns sharply towards her, hand trembling beneath hers. Logically she's right. He's not a fool to not know the difference between them.

...But.]

I still should have tried.

[Pushed back instead of rolling over, running like a dog with his tail between his legs. Fucking hell, everyone always calls him strong and a hero when in truth he was a coward when it mattered most to him. To her.

And now, even if he knows the truth, he can't do anything. Nowhere for all this anger and resentment to go out. To not only have been used but to manipulated that much, to drive them apart for his own ends—]

And then what?

[She has begged him before not to do it, and this time is no different. Whether he is here or not, that day could always come again. In this world, or when he returns to theirs. She doesn't mean for her voice to sound so sharp, edging on a threat, but they have already talked about this once before. If it bears repeating, then so be it, but that doesn't mean she has to be pleased about it.

Her hand squeezes his, her other arm sliding around his shoulder so that she can lean in close, and through that warning in her eyes, there's a softness to the way she rubs her lips over his—a small effort to try and soothe him when she knows no other way to.]

I'd be chasing after a dead man.

[There's a sharp catch in his breath, eyes trembling as he stares at her. It's hard to not be infuriated by it all. For all of it to become so clear yet so devastating at once.

And then another realization strikes him and he closes his eyes, all that strength in his fist loosening as it falls along with his head as his body sags a bit.]

...I'm sorry... I'm the one who is supposed to be comforting you, not this.

[She came here, to him, because she wanted to talk to him about own feelings of what happened tonight. And while this is all tied together... The focus shifted.]

[She shoves herself into him a little more.]

Shut up.

[She doesn't want his apologies. That isn't why she is here... not anymore. And even if things were still the same between them, she wouldn't have wanted them then, either.

Besides... she doesn't want to talk about Barnabas right now, of all people. There is still that loyalty that lingers even in his absence, and that part of her stings just thinking about it. Stings when she remembers how afraid she had felt when she saw him here, when she realized what he would do to her if he found that she had lost Garuda, stings when she remembers that he is gone.

He can think it all he likes, but it was never him that she truly wanted.]

Cidolfus...

[Amber eyes meet his again, and they are wide and searching.]

... Is it true, then?

What?

[His own eyes search hers.]

That I still had feelings for you?

[There's a slight pained look.]

Benna...

[His hand rises to cup her cheek.]

I was angry, aye. Angry, confused, and wondered if you felt anything for me. But I felt that way because I loved you.

[He's already told her once and more, but this time it's harder. This time he's recalling what he had thought to do. Thought of telling her, try to use it to convince her, but he ended up too brokenhearted and spiteful to do it in the end. A big mistake, he knows, but he was a normal young man whose spirit and mind had been frayed so much he couldn't handle it anymore.

He had just wanted her to listen to him and when she didn't...]

[Loved...

It's her turn to need that steadying breath, her heart racing a million beats a minute at the word as it tries to keep her afloat in this tide of emotions that comes ripping through her. It's nothing new, this, and yet, it feels like it is. Like he's just said those words to her for the very first time and she doesn't know what to do with herself.]

... Then why did you not tell me?

[Why did he leave her thinking that he hated her? That he wanted nothing to do with her?

Run all they want, fight it all they want, this past was always going to catch up, and would haunt them until it did.]

[A wane, sad smile.]

I didn't know until it was too late...and I didn't know if you would feel the same.

I had thought about telling you that night to convince you, but...

[His lips draw into a thin line as his gaze drifts down, those memories flickering through like a film, carrying that hurt all over again.]

The moment you refused, that was it. I took that as your rejection of me. I know now that wasn't true, but at the time I didn't know who to trust or believe in anymore, so that was the last straw and I just couldn't deal with it. It all felt like a lie.

[A heavy voice.]

All of it.

[He hadn't wanted to believe them at first, but the words he overheard, the things he happened to see, and the lies he had been meticulously fed were the poison that clouded his judgment. For over twenty years he served a king he had trusted his life and honor to, only to realize he was instead aiding in bringing unneeded death and chaos through all those wars, on a greater mission that was so ludicrous and counter to his own beliefs and ruining more lives than waving. And then to discover the one woman he gave his heart had, as he saw it, cast it aside and then reject him in the end...

How beautifully they played in that bastard's hands.]

[Her jaw ticks, clenching against the burn in her eyes, the anger that boils under her skin. She had believed for so long that she had lost him, that he didn't care for her, and that everything that they had built together was a lie—all the trust that she put in him, the love, the time. She believed with all her heart that it meant nothing to him. Just like Cid, she was so sure that he had cast her aside.

But instead, they were made to believe in lies that would drive them apart... feed into those insecurities and doubts and then plant even more.

She's at war with herself on the inside... one part of her wanting to deny every claim, tell him that he was wrong, that it was him all along. The part that still hurts and the part that is still afraid, stuck in the past, that last night and all the years that came after like a web she's caught in.

And that part would have won out not even that long ago, if it weren't for the fact that he has stirred a new side of her heart... or perhaps reawakened it. That one that wants to move on from the past... the piece of her that is tired from fighting, tired from trying to run from these feelings she cannot control or escape.

So, she's silent for a long time after, letting his words sink in and trying to tether herself to him lest she burst open that window and fly away.]

Even us? [She tries to mask the strain of the hurt in her voice... to no avail.] We felt like a lie, too.

[He knows she's spiraling and hurting as much as he is, and that the truth of what he felt would only hurt them more, but...

They've been hiding in these shadows for so long. They've assumed the feelings of the other for so long. If admitting everything would help paint the truth, no matter how painful it is, then so be it.

So there is a heavy pause before he speaks again.]

That's what I started to believe...and for a brief time after I left, I did think it might have been.

[That the words and lies were true. But if she could think the same of him, then it only makes sense that he would, too. For those doubts to take hold and sink in.]

But then... I would think if it were a lie, then it had been the most beautiful lie that I wished were true. Because it had to be true.

[He had his doubts. And there was a time when he looked back and wondered if she really had used him like the lies told him. If she hadn't had genuine feelings for him, that it was all to use him as a stepping stone to power. To their king.

But whenever he did look back, all he could see were her bright eyes, he smile, her laugh, her warmth, her voice—and he could not find any lie in it. It only changed the longer she stayed in Dhalmekia, but before those changes, before things got twisted—no, it wasn't a lie. It couldn't have been.

Or so he so desperately believed.

But now—]

Wasn't it?

[—it'll be his turn to question her.]

It was real.

[That comes with no silence in between. No hesitation. Nothing. Just her honest, true answer.

For fuck's sake, for the longest time, all she wanted was to rub that fact in his face. That what they had was real and that he had let go of it was something she would have gladly chewed up and spat back out at him. Make him feel that paralyzing regret that she felt. Overcome him with guilt. What has he done to her?

But as she looks at him, he is just as tired as she is. Just as broken down by these lies that she now wishes she could stomp out of her heart. Rip it from herself and break it until it's all gone. Instead, her fingers tremble, that anger coming to the surface as the wind rattles at his window, but she reaches for that pendant around her neck.]

I...

[Loved you, is what she wishes she could say, but the words die just as fast as they formed on the edge of her tongue.]

I let you go because I was afraid, Cidolfus. Not just... of what might happen, but because I thought I'd already lost you. I was... angry.

[Her immediate answer does help alleviate a lot of that pain, though it would take time still for it to completely disappear. And then it won't be the hurt of what she caused, but of what they lost because of these damn lies and manipulation. That may be something that will never disappear completely.

But right now, there's that ache and a heaviness at her words.]

And from your perspective... You had every right to be.

[Because why wouldn't she be angry and hurt? They were feeling the exact same things. He thought he lost her. She thought she lost him. Both angry at the other...]

[She searches his face, eyes flitting about as if desperately searching for more answers. It's terrifying when one's crutch ends up crumbling along with her, too. When she needs his strength, and he needs hers, but neither have anything to offer... that abyss that threatens to swallow her up is frightening.

She doesn't know what else to do but move closer, because if they cannot reach each other emotionally, if he feels too far away, then she can at least reach him physically. She is careful as she climbs onto his lap, legs straddling and pinning him as she settles in.

The pendant falls back to her chest with that soft, metallic jingle that is like music to her ears, that bracelet visible as she presses her hand to his cheek both reminders that there was always something there, still something even through the anger that clouded both of their eyes.]

And I suppose you did, too.

[How wrong she was. How wrong they both were...]

...But I wanted you to come for me. I wished for you to come back...

[Even long after, on that fateful night, she stood on top of the Caer and wished. How stupid she had been then, she thought, to send a wish to the Gods who would never listen. How foolish she was to have hope that they had.

Or maybe they did, but it was them who saw each other's worlds through crooked lenses.]

[He doesn't stop her, if anything he welcomes it. Their physical closeness had once been just a basic bridge for them to be together, but now it's more than that, and his arms circle around her as he looks up at her.]

And I wanted to take you back... Even when I saw you back in the Greatwood...

[If he could capture her... Even back then. He still wanted her.

But those feelings were also dying embers. Hot, but barely strong enough to do more than wish. Even when he tried to persuade her, he knew how it would end even though he had some hope otherwise. And once again...she had made that choice. And so again, he believed she didn't want him.]

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