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

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.]

[Anything she wanted to know...

Teach her to stand on her own. Teach her what it means to live... for herself. For them. Teach her how to spread her wings as wide as they will go and how to fly untethered to another...

What it means to be free. From fate. From the chains of another. From the bars that she had put around herself for so long.

Except she can't find it within her to ask that of him... Or find the words to. So, when he pulls her to him, she has no choice but to press her lips to his, that kiss beseeching him to listen, to understand, begging him to help her learn what that means.

Whether he feels it or not, it's there, and she knows that he already knows all of these things.]

... These people. They all lived for themselves.

[These Bearers that she once thought beneath her... they were not so different from her in the end. The difference is that he had saved them. Took them in...

And she still saw herself in them regardless. Perhaps that was why...]

[He accepts her kiss in full, catching that hidden meaning. He's grown used to understanding this method of communication, her way of answering where words fail her. Of course it still would be better if she did voice her thoughts since all he can really glean is a confirmation or understanding of what is being said. But he will work with it for now.]

For themselves and each other.

[His lips lightly brush against hers as his eyes flick upwards to her.]

And it wasn't easy for them, changing from one type of life to another.

[A subtle nudge, knowing she's having difficulty.]

[She catches his meaning in turn, and her eyes close at the brush of his lips.]

It is not easy, you know.

[Of course he knows, but he was always so good at everything he does that it's no surprise to her that he found a way to adapt quickly. Not everyone is so fortunate to be blessed with the ability to mold with change. Some are cursed to be as unmalleable as ever, and she only has her ever-haunting past to thank for that.]

They would have needed guidance. Someone to show them how...

[Her eyes blink open to stare into his.

She isn't just talking about the people in his hideaway.]

[He knows, and there's a measured silence before he answers.]

But they also need to reach out and ask for it...as well as accept the hand that offers it.

[Definitely not about the Hideaway.]

And they also need to learn to let go once they are able to take those first steps to be on their own.

[She feels so very seen and open right now, like he's cracked her heart open to look inside. It has her retreating, head tipping forward until he can no longer see her face or the way her expression tightens.

Though, surely he can feel it in the way she squeezes him, and how her hand searches for his.]

... And if they don't want to let go?

They need to.

[His hand squeezes hers in return, his head lowering so she can hear his voice more clearly.]

Else they will never be able to fully stand on their own. But letting go doesn't mean forever. They can always return, and they will still have that support behind them.

[His voice softens a bit.]

They won't be left alone.

[Except this one had been left alone, and it will take much more than words of comfort and reassurances for her to let go... and then feel safe enough to return.

It's a long way still, but she is getting there. Tonight, however, feels like one large step backwards.]

... How did you do it?

[It was always going to be a process... For her, especially. So much damage to undo...]

Figure out how to live on my own?

[She gives the smallest of nods.]

Yes. Though I imagine it was easy for you.

[She doesn't mean that in a hostile way, or sarcastic, but more... fond.]

[He can't help but laugh at that, glancing away as he lightly chews on his lower lip before answering.]

You're only looking at the end result, and I can't say I'm really all that grand.

[His eyes look somewhere off into the distance, but it's gone beyond the walls of this room and the building. Beyond this very world.]

I was sixteen when I left my homeland to Valisthea as a sellsword.

Thirteen when I first killed a man.

Twelve when I buried my parents, but I stopped seeing them at home since I was ten.

Eight when I could first pick up the sword.

Seven when I stole a book to learn how to read and write.

Five when I could help my father in our lord's stables.

[Well. He is certainly grander than her, but she keeps that to herself.

But there is that look again. That far-off, distant one that she saw so often. She wishes she can say that she has grown accustomed to it but it scares her more than it soothes her to see it when she shifts to look at him. It's so unreadable and unreachable, and she hates that she doesn't know what he is thinking...

But as he finishes, Benedikta shakes her head, reaching for his face as if she means to pull him back to her.]

You are.

[If he had any doubts. But this could just be that small girl who looked up to him so much speaking for her.

She didn't know these things about him, though, and hearing them now... that rift between them feels like it grows both bigger and smaller all at the same time, if such a thing were possible. Smaller because he is sharing with her, bigger because he should have sooner.

She will come back to all this.

However—]

But that is not what I meant. I meant... living for yourself. Freely.

[With loyalties to no one but himself.]

[His eyes remain a little distant, but they clear a bit when she pulls him to her.]

That's the thing. There was no "one time." If anything, it was those specific moments when I realized I had to make a change or I would be trapped in the same circle and share the same fate.

But even then, I didn't know what it really meant to live "for myself" or how to live "freely" because at the time all I could do was focus on surviving.

It was when I got tired of that and watching everyone else going through the same thing that I decided to change myself. That's part of the reason why I traveled to Valisthea. Try and "start over," and I suppose you could say those years and the people I worked with are what really taught me how to live independently.

[A small, rough laugh.]

Especially after finding that Valisthea wasn't the "magical paradise blessed by the Mothercrystals" we all thought.

Edited 2024-01-29 23:04 (UTC)

[Now that she has him, Benedikta holds him there, trying to keep his focus from wandering off elsewhere. Her eyes never once leave his for as long as he will look into hers, and she still searches like she is trying to find the answers to her own questions there.]

Not all of us were so fortunate.

[Not everyone had been blessed with the opportunity to start over when they realized that simply surviving was not going to cut it. Yes, she could live, but when she lost Garuda and understood that what she had been chasing all along would leave her empty, the gods saw fit to punish her for it rather than offer her a second chance.

Sure, she is here, but... it is not her home.]

You were given the choice.

[Funny how, once upon a time, she would have spat that in his face and then laughed about it. Now, all she feels is quiet envy. A need to pin herself to him tighter, closer.]

[It wasn't intended, but her answer makes his gaze sharpen.]

Fortunate? A choice?

[How could any of what he just said be fortunate—he just had to give the quick answer. She's not thinking he could just buy a ticket and waltz through did she—

Let's not even get to the choice he offered her—]

Edited 2024-01-30 01:01 (UTC)

[She sees the way that his eyes sharpen at her, and she doesn't even throw up her defenses. Rather, offers him that signature "Cidolfus, please" look, though it lacks any fight, any sarcasm, any exasperation. It's more... imploring than anything else. She thinks she sees where his misunderstanding may have stemmed from, but that doesn't ease any of the pain that she knows they are both feeling.]

You left for Valisthea to start over. Forge yourself a new life... [she begins slowly, her brow furrowing as she tries to figure out how to properly convey what she means.] And then again, after you left.

I... had realized what I wanted too late.

[Garuda was already there, rattling at the cage of her ribs, wanting to be let out. To feed on that contempt and hurt and betrayal and bitterness and all the things that she'd been feeling with the hopes of drowning out that regret. The guilt that she felt in those final moments.

That was where she no longer had a choice.]

Edited 2024-01-30 01:08 (UTC)

[He sees that look and is only shooting it right back because she really needs to explain what is going on in her head!! No matter how she thinks it, there could have been better word choices!!

But he won't belabor about it since she does. Not that he still agrees with her word choice, but he can at least understand what she means. Nor does he have to ask when that "too late" was, his expression losing that edge.

So that's what she meant.

And even if she has that chance now, that still doesn't rid her of whatever guilt and regret she had. Still...]

But you know it now.

I...do...

[Those words come out strained. It's a hard thing to admit, even if she's not stopped thinking about it since she woke up in that room on that ship. And then again when he shows her even the smallest kindness.]

But that changes nothing. I can't go back and see... [Her fingers move to his chest, absently and unconsciously tracing a circle where his heart is.] ...see what you have done.

[His breath catches in his throat at that, that ache and pain flickering in his eyes as his hand goes up to cup and press against her cheek.

And little does she know... That he would never see the end result, either.]

Then I'll just have to come up with something better to show you here.

You had better.

[But it won't be the same, she wants to remind him. It will never be the same. Not what he spent the last six years working on... and as much bitterness as she feels still towards the circumstances of his departure, even more now after learning what she did, she still wishes she could see it. Still loves him enough that it would matter to her now.

She just shakes her head with a hum, pressing her cheek into the warmth of his hand.]

... Would I have liked it there?

[There's that sadness in his eyes, that longing at her question.]

...Aye.

[Would it hurt her more to know his thoughts? Or does she want to hear them, anyway? He hesitates a moment before he finally decides to tell her.]

Might not have liked all that dust and ash. [A small laugh.] But even though I call it a "cave," we were really living within the remnants of the ruins, likely what was left of a grand hall. The ceilings were higher than a castle arches with openings that would let the sun, wind, and the rare rain in freely.

[He looks at her meaningfully, not saying what else that would have come in freely.

Her and her wings, flying in and out like a bird, with enough space for her to not feel cramped.]

[It already hurts plenty, her chest aching for a time she can never have, her fingers clenching and unclenching slowly like she's trying to grab it and hold what doesn't exist. A time that they can never share together because of the choice that she made. A place she can never go to and belong to at his side because of the choice she didn't make.

Her eyes spark with light, however, as he goes on to explain its grand design. She thinks she catches his meaning with the high, open ceilings...

If the wind could travel in freely, then so could she.

There's that heavy pang of regret that weighs in her suddenly. It has always been there, but it's all-consuming now, and when she feels it coming—]

Oh, fuck off.

[She swipes a hand to her eyes and leans forward to bury her face in his neck.]

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