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

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.]

[Her eyes narrow just a touch, her head tilting.]

The Greatwood?

[She doesn't remember running into him there. Their little stint in that area had been brief, but she would have recalled it.

Except she shakes her head, because none of that matters. Not here, not anymore. The moment they did see each other again after gods know how long, they had already been stained black. It was for a brief moment where she held out hope that she might get through to him in that chapel, but her hopes had been dashed then, too.]

... But by the time we did, we'd both given up. Thought the other was long gone.

[And that was why she rejected him, too. Why she fell back on her loyalties and his betrayal when, in the end, it was always about how he left her behind.

Even when she still carried that pendant in her pocket.]

Edited 2024-01-29 05:27 (UTC)

[A sigh.]

We did. And I still regret it.

[...

Regrets.

It's like he's taken a knife and twisted it into her chest without realizing that he has.

Like he's thrown her right back into that maelstrom. Into that clearing where she felt so helpless and weak and terrified of returning home. Where she wished... wondered...

Her hand slides down his face again, running a more pensive line over his stubble as she thinks, and blinks back the burn again in her eyes.]

Cidolfus...

[It's a gentle prod, like she's not quite sure yet and needs his guidance.]

...If you had...

[He leans a little into her hand, his eyes still watching hers. Watching that storm of emotions that seem to mirror his own yet also seems to sink deeper into it.

His hand reaches up to her then, gently pressing his palm against the back of it as if to keep her hand there. Keep her there, with him.]

Had...?

[She presses against him, wishing he would hold her just a little tighter, even when his hand presses to her back. She wishes that he would crush her until she couldn't breathe, and maybe not even give life into this what-if.]

If you had taken me... Brought me with you...

[Except it's already out there. Alive between them now.]

What... would you have done?

[His eyes widen a bit as he stares at her before his gaze lowers a bit.

What would he have done...]

Would depend a little on how willing you were... But regardless, whether I had to convince you or you wanted to, I would have taken you with me and work together to secure a place for us to hide. Even more so because Hugo would have been after my head the moment he heard about it.

[His expression darkens a bit before he mentally shakes it off.]

After that...

[...Ah.

It's here that he remembers that long forgotten dream, that little hope he had once. One that was so fleeting, but it sparked the moment he watched her hold up Mid one day, and then lingered like a ghost, coming and going when he least wanted.

But he doesn't speak it. He dares not speak it because it is far too much, even for himself.]

...My mission wouldn't have changed, if that's what you were wondering. We could run all we want, but they would never give up, and the world was dying at a rate that there wouldn't be much left for us to live in. [A beat.] And that's not the world I wanted for you, either.

[She watches, eyes tuned into every little shift in his expression, her body acutely aware of each thread of tension that forms. She can see the thoughts churning, those gears turning, and she wonders what might be going on behind those darkened eyes.

The mention of Hugo makes her stiffen, however. She knows how far that man would have gone for her. He liked to remind her of it often, and as much as she would love the idea of a man destroying the world in her honour when she held nothing but contempt for it, she didn't want him to be the one to do it.

She wanted it to be Cid. Always did.

Which is why all these mere hypotheticals ache more than they should. Yet, her curiosity and her regrets have her pursuing it further.]

And us?

[He speaks of his missions, of hiding away, and of the world... but that hadn't really been what she meant.]

... Would there have been an "us" still?

[His mind had been drifting, but his gaze sharpens at her question, and there is no hesitation or doubt in his answer.]

There would.

[He pulls her down closer to him, the hand on her back riding up her spine to the nape of her neck to the back of her head.

How he could have told her how much she played a part in everything he did. For why he started changing the world. Yes, it was for everyone, too, but she was the spark. The initial motivator. Isn't that how it always is? Anyone could go out to change the world for the greater good, but it's always born from a singular, selfish reason. And she was his. To create a world for everyone to live, breathe, and die of their own will—and for her to fly freely.]

I wouldn't have wanted anyone else.

[But again, he can't tell her because it would be too overwhelming for her. Perhaps one day, but not now. Not tonight. Not when they are already so worn out and torn from everything else they are learning.]

[The hand skimming her back helps steady her, the closeness grounding her back in the present rather than being stuck in the could-have-been past. They have each other now, so why are these regrets flooding in like they had in those last moments before Garuda's shrieks drowned them out?

She leans in close, her forehead pressing to his before she slides further, resting on his shoulder, buried in that crook of his neck that she adores so much.]

Had I known...

[Had she been aware of everything, had she not been so blind, so foolish to believe in the lies that had been whispered into her ear, then maybe... things would have been different. It's a thought that has clung to her heart since.

Had she known that he still loved her...

Her face lifts just so, and her voice is quiet in his ear.]

... Tell me about it. This place.

[Since she won't ever have the chance to see it for herself.]

[He lets her bury herself against his shoulder and neck, his arm still in its place as he holder her to him, eyes briefly closing as he thinks about the Hideaway...and how he would sometimes envision her flying through the open skylights, usually after he would see her. For no matter how bitter or angry they were at each other, she still lingered in his thoughts. Haunted him.

But... Now she is here in his arms. Now they are here, the rifts between them closing more and more by the day. And how much more have they managed to close now? How much distance do they have left? There are still some gaps, both needing time to heal and process these new revelations, but... What seemed so far way seems not so now.]

Well... It was in a cave.

[A small laugh as if he's trying to lighten up the somber mood they've found themselves in again. He also turns them so he can sit against the wall right next to the window.]

In the middle of the Deadlands, I found some Fallen Ruins that made it possible for a large community to live in. The location made it easy to travel to Sanbreque, Rosaria, the Dominion, and Dhalmekia, and it was so deep in there we didn't have to worry about anyone finding us. After all, who would be crazy enough to live in blighted lands?

[A small laugh since he was exactly that person.]

But it was possible. Without any monsters around, we didn't have to worry about protecting ourselves from those. The ruins themselves kept the air clean, and there were underground aquifers that flowed out, with the rain that sometimes fell collecting in the pools to give us fresh water. The soil was... We were working to try and grow things, and had some success, but not enough to self-sufficient. So the only major downside was needing to transport food ingredients and other goods to the Hideaway, but we had made support and allies in various places that made it easier. And without any aether, we just had our own skills to live by. Everyone used their real talents and did what they could, whether it be working the forge, cooking, sewing, treating the injured, or just living their day to day. Something that many had difficulty adjusting to.

[He closes his eyes as he thinks about everyone who sacrificed so much for their freedoms. With some...losing their lives for it.]

Still, we were a group of outlaws and outcasts. We weren't scrounging for scraps, but we weren't exactly living the life of luxury. And while it required a lot of hard work it was...simple. Freeing. A glimpse of what the world could be.

[Where everyone could use their talents—their real talents to contribute and provide for the community. Where they were not pigeon holed into some role and wither away, forced to do one thing and one thing only, their lives literally drained from them.]

[She listens, her eyes never once leaving his face as he speaks, watching those changes in his expression, letting herself get lost deep on those sad, verdant eyes that she could drown in. Watching how those hardened lines that she had seen so often as the Lord Commander fade away as he tells her about this place, this life that he had. She can see the differences as clear as day. She can feel them in the ease of his shoulders, the way his laugh tickles her cheek. She can hear it in his voice... Something that she hadn't known until she met him again here.

He once felt so far away from her, like an unreachable star, and as she listens to the way he talks about this new life of us... it makes him feel even further. Even as she sits in his lap, their arms around each other, his heart feels just as far away as it did in their years apart.

There is a new feeling that rises in her chest. It isn't anger or contempt, nor is it hatred, but it does leave a bitter taste on her tongue. Jealousy? An ugly feeling, to be sure, but how else is she supposed to feel when those regrets keep festering and gnawing away at her?

She cannot hold it against him though, because as much as she would have loved to blame him for it, she can't. He didn't know. She didn't know. How in the world is she supposed to trust anyone now? Her jaw clenches again at the thought, but she swallows down her fury yet again.

She grounds herself with him, and when his eyes close, she caresses his face.

Simple, he says. Freeing. A place where people could be who they were, not what they were...]

That sounds miserable.

[It's said lightly, however, as she slides back to his shoulder, holding him tight. An attempt to lighten the somber mood a little further as she huffs a laugh into his neck. Mostly in response to his little "cave" comment.

But it's partly true. How Benedikta would have fared in a life like that is anyone's guess.]

[A quiet laugh.]

It's always overwhelming to those who first step into it. But I think you would have gotten used to it.

[A small pause.]

And complain about the bed.

You and your small beds... Had I gone with you, there would have been nothing to complain about.

[She wouldn't have let him get a bed to dislike in the first place, but she can't help but smile at the sound of his laugh, and he might feel it press to his skin.]

Freeing...how? It just sounds like a lot of work.

[Far more than what they had in Waloed... but she doesn't mean it in a demeaning way. Just... curiosity.]

Hm...

[A low hum from deep within his throat as he contemplates how to answer.]

Because everything was of their own making.

[He glances down at her.]

The people I gathered in the Hideaway were once slaves, Bearers, or those who wanted to reach their full potential but were cast aside for one reason or another. Now of course we had our own rules, but we allowed everyone to learn new skills, focus on things they were interested in.

A slave could learn to read, write, and start making poetry. A Beaerer once forced to only light stoves could now wield a sword, forge armor, or learn medicine. They could create products we could sell and they receive a profit, cook meals for people to enjoy.

[A light grin.]

It was hard work to be sure, and not all days were pleasant. But it was easier to tolerate because it was of their own choosing. And whenever they felt pride in their accomplishments for the day, then it made all the effort worthwhile.

[With each reason he gives, it pulls her more and more back into the past. To the days when he had only been a mere spark in her eye, a man that she admired not because she knew she loved him but because he had found and saved a small, lost girl.

Taught her how to read and write. How to wield a sword. How to wield her magick and tame the harpy that now lived inside her. Taught her all of her skills in battle and in strategy. Taught her how to reach her own potential.

And whenever she felt pride in her accomplishments, who was the first person she flew to with all the excitement in the world bubbling in her chest?

It's jealousy that edges those thoughts again, it makes her heart hurt more than he could probably ever know, but it only makes her cling to him tighter.]

... Just like you had taught me.

[And he is, for better or worse, unaware of her feelings. So his expression can only soften a little, a touch of sadness hidden as he looks at her. Taught her so she could break away from her fate and become someone more of her own. And yet...]

...I can still teach you.

[He pulls her up to him a little.]

Anything you wanted to know.

[To be free.]

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