escordvi | closed 🪶⚡ i'll be the light to lead you home

[As they start walking, a hardened expression flickers in his eyes, one she won't be able to see or notice due to how subtle it is. It is one filled with a strange mix of malevolence and torment, and it does bring about a strong chill in the air that can be felt before it disappears just as quickly as he smiles whenever she looks at him, as if nothing had happened at all.

Yet he is strangely quiet, any statement or comment he makes always with a smile that seems both familiar yet out of place each time, and whenever she stumbles he is quick to catch her and ask if she's all right, and hand running over her shoulders or her back in a tender gesture...one that sometimes lingers longer than usual.

When they reach that boundary between the Uncharted and the Breathing Depths, Cid takes a breath of the fresher air before glancing back behind them. His gaze will linger, the shadows and his back turned to her again hiding a darker, sharper look in his eyes before he turns back and it all gone again.]

And you were worried about me. [A light teasing grin.] How about over here, beneath this overhang?

[It's only a few steps more and would give them some shelter and shade along with what looks like soft moss to create a nice cozy place to relax. So before she can even answer, he takes her hand to lead her to it.]

[While she misses the hardened look in his eyes, there are other things that she notices. His silence, for one, is particularly felt in times when she is expecting a silly little quip in an attempt to make her smile when she gets frustrated with herself for tripping. The way that his touch lingers for longer, though that isn't so much strange as it is a little surprising.

When she sees him staring back at the shadows of the Uncharted, she watches him, wondering what might be going through his head in that moment. He's seemed rather distant all the way up in spite of his insistent closeness, like his mind was always anywhere but with her.

She doesn't even get the chance to respond to him before he's pulling her by the hand into the shade, and she can only stare at the back of his head with narrowed eyes.]

And I still am worried about you.

And yet I seem to be holding up better than you are, my dear.

[With a teasing grin he sits down, but instead of letting her sit beside him he just sets her right on his lap.]

[There it is again, yet why does it ring so strange in her ears when he says it? A question she—once again—barely has time to ask herself before she's being pulled right down into his lap.]

Cidolfus—?

[She sputters, nearly stumbling before she catches herself with her hands on his shoulders.]

What has gotten into you?

What?

[He just looks at her with some genuine surprise.]

After all we've been through, is it so strange to want to find comfort in your warmth?

It is not that...

[Her hand moves up to caress his face, but there's the slightest twitch of her brow when she feels how cold his cheeks are. More so than usual...]

But everything else.

Hmmm?

[He leans into her hand with that boyish cant of his as he looks into her eyes with a deep, warm smile.]

How so?

[He meets her gaze, but it feels like he doesn't quite make it all the way there. Still, her own eyes bore into his, the weight of them crushing.]

You seem...

[Her hand moves from his cheek to his forehead, pressing her fingers to it as if checking his temperature. A pause, as she tries to consider her choice of words.]

Distant.

[Another small look of surprise before he smiles ruefully.]

Perhaps I'm more tired than I thought. Thinking about that abomination and those souls...pitiful, truly.

... And yet you insisted that you were not the entire trek up here.

[A cant of her head, and she tries to keep the strain of worry from her voice, that little bit of fear and dread starting to trickle into her features.]

Tell me what is really going on.

Perhaps it's more mental?

[A wry grin as he leans in closer to her.]

Physically I feel fine, but... It's true I have been distracted.

[That grin...

That grin feels so... strange. Strange enough that she leans back.]

Distracted with what?

[Just a small shake of his head as his gaze drifts past her shoulder back out to the Uncharted lands. It's not so desolate where they are, but in the far distance some of that darkness can still be seen.]

Just what I said before—seeing all those souls taken for gods knows what. How even in death we may not find the peace we worked so hard for.

[A somber smile.]

Makes one appreciate their life more, eh?

... It does.

[Her words come slow, her voice quiet, as she watches his gaze move away to stare past her again. Still, she watches him carefully, her eyes transfixed on his.

So transfixed that there is no missing that change in colour. It's a flicker at first, and she thinks she might have imagined it, but when she blinks to try and correct her vision...]

Cidolfus?

[Her stomach drops, because no longer are they the emerald green hue that she adores so very much, but have started to turn more blue. A dark blue with gray flecks within the irises... A shade that feels far too familiar...]

Your eyes, they...

[She tries to push herself away from him.]

[There's something that flickers in his eyes at that, an unknown emotion as he stares at her before his arms around her tighten with that odd smile.]

What?

[And then he laughs.]

Benna, love, you keep questioning about me, but I'm starting to think you're the one that's acting a bit off.

[She feels his arms tighten around her, holding her in place, and that laugh sends a rush of panic shooting up her spine. Those alarm bells start to ring again, louder than before, as she tries to wriggle in his grip to loosen it. Most times, she would not mind being held so tight, but the way that he smiles at her feels so...

...

Empty.

It feels as though she has seen that smile before.]

Why are they blue?

Blue? I have no idea what you mean.

[He just peers closer into her eyes, seeing his reflection.]

They look green still to me.

Cidolfus...

[She whispers his name, her hands on his chest, and he'll feel the slightest bit of pressure when she pushes.]

Something is wrong...

[Her instincts are telling her to get up, to move away when he stares deeper into her eyes. They have been all this time but she ignored them, thinking that he was simply exhausted from all that magic use, but perhaps she should have listened to that dreadful feeling in her gut. Perhaps she should have looked a little deeper the moment that she felt something was off.

Which is why she is now trying to get up from where she sits.]

[Again his hold tightens, and there is a flicker of irritation as his lips harden into a thin line, a spark of something in his eyes that waver between that strange blue and green before that blueish tint wins out and a smile breaks the tension—or rather strengthens it.]

Still feeling uneasy?

[And then she's suddenly and roughly shoved to the ground with him pinning her from above, his face just above hers as his voice lowers.]

Should I offer you a different sort of comfort...?

[She sees it again—that shift in the hue of his eyes as it goes from his to someone else's. She has spent far too much time looking into them not to notice, and far too much time with him to know that he is not acting himself. Even exhausted, he would not, and she curses at herself for not figuring it out before.

She's lost in the wild array of her thoughts when she's suddenly and roughly shoved to the ground, the grass itching and prickling at her skin. She falters, caught up in the press of him only for a moment. Any other time, she would savour it, but in his right mind, he would know better.]

Get...off... What is wrong with you!?

[That is all the warning he gets before she's shoving him off her with all the strength that she has, locking his ankles between her own so that he can't escape the roll. She pushes him onto his side and immediately scrambles away from him. She has to take a breath to steady herself, but it's as shaky as her fingers are as she shoves herself to her feet, everything trembling as she watches that blue push away the green in his eyes.

And as the last flecks of green flicker out of existence, something dawns on her, a realization rushing forth along with an old memory of him.]

Give him back.

[There's moment of surprise when she pushes him back, and be lays there for a moment as if stunned. But there is also something there, a twisted expression that is hidden in the shadows as he slowly pushes himself up. An expression that once again disappears as he stands and looks at her with a smile and then a laugh and shake of his head.]

Guess I need to try harder.

[A hand goes to his chin, the voice the same but now the mannerism completely different.]

Or maybe...someone else?

[She falters a step away when she sees that smile.]

Stay back—!

[It's not him, it's not him, it's not him. A reminder that she keeps telling herself as she watches. It's his face, his body, but everything else is—

Her stomach drops at that change, and for a moment, she is standing back in the castle walls of Stonhyrr. A lump grows in her throat, and it feels like her heart has slowed to a near stop. She must just be imagining it, but it cannot possibly be... can it?

The magic that had started to trickle from her fingertips fades, though she remains guarded and uncertain as she watches carefully.]

[A sinister smirk forms as he watches her, like a predator enjoying his prey but in a more twisted sense. A desire that remains, but not with that familiar sincere warmth. It's a cold, brutal gaze, as if he really does intend to consume her whole. To completely overwhelm the woman in front of him.

It's with that pressure that he steps forward, slowly.]

Ah, ah, Benedikta.

[The smirk shifts into a sneer at her name, eyes darkening.]

Is this the way to treat your beloved? A man you yearned and adored all your life?

[With each step he draws closer, pushing her towards the wall behind her.]

Or perhaps it is a different lord you still seek.

[She remains frozen, except for the steps that she takes to back away from him. She isn't sure whether it is out of fear or loyalty, or perhaps a bit of both. They always did go hand in hand when it came to him, didn't it? She would be fooling herself if she said that they did not, just like she had for all those years. Yet, even now, those mannerisms—he commands every last morsel of her attention, striking fear into her bones until it warps into something more like deference. She could claim all she wants that she is no longer bound to him, but...]

B...Barnabas?

[... As he wears the face of the man she loves, her mind and her heart war with each other to do all sorts of twisted things. Twisted enough that, for a moment, her king's face flickers over that of Cid's the same moment she feels her back hit the wall. And now that she is stuck with nowhere else to go, she stares at him in disbelief, those images fading in and out so clearly that she is not sure if it's a trick of her imagination or if it is truly happening.]

[A hand slowly presses against the wall next to her head the distance between them closes.]

Is that who you really want?

[The smirk deepens as his other hand rises to her face, fingertips slowly running over the curves of her cheek to her chin to hold it in place as his thumb brushes over her lips.]

What a greedy little bird you are, Benedikta.

[His thumb pressed against her lower lip, as if to force it open.]

But here you can both. The body of your lover and the "spirit" of your king...

[His face draws nearer, and she can feel the chill on his breath as his voice lowers to a quiet whisper.]

Just give yourself to me.

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