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

[She knew, but it still does not make her heart break any less. She knows better now, though, than to let it get to her too much...]

I know.

[It's soft and defeated, but her arms tighten around him anyway.]

She thought that what I wanted was for Barnabas in your body... She called me weak. Pathetic... That I could not save you.

[The first part he winces again because...that part he might have believed at one point. But then at that second part, his expression completely changes.]

Now that I did not believe.

[Unlike before, his words come out with no hesitation and is adamant, almost angry at the idea that that was what she heard...and coming from his mouth, hells.]

I knew you would have trouble, but I never once believed you wouldn't be able to find the strength and save me. Those were her words, not mine.

[Even if there is no hesitation, she feels a twinge in her heart, a small seed of doubt being planted there. Or perhaps it already had been, and this had only made it fester.]

I just did not want to hurt you... Not again.

[The words spill out of her so fast that she can't stop herself, as if she needs to explain why she had so much trouble doing what needed to be done.]

It was as if she knew what I was most afraid of...

[An aggravated sigh as he hugs her closer.]

Only because I knew what you were afraid of. Dammit, if only I had gotten rid of that damned ghost sooner—

Cidolfus...

[When he pulls her closer, she kisses him firmly, like she means to take all of those words right out of his mouth, out of his thoughts, and banish them away.]

It is not your fault. You know that, yes?

[Again the kiss does both to comfort and make him feel more guilty, wanting to accept but finding himself rejecting it, as if finding himself not worthy of accepting her comforts now.]

Just as you know it wasn't yours?

[He can't help but stare hard at her in return, because they both know they will think otherwise—that they both weren't able to do enough, that they wouldn't blame the other and only themselves.]

[She pulls back when she feels that hesitation to accept it, her eyes filled with a hurt as she searches his face.]

... You did not answer me.

[Her forehead presses to his, and she breathes out a sigh against his lips, so very close yet feeling so far right now.]

It is hard to accept that... but are you not always the one reminding me that we cannot dwell on these things?

[He closes his eyes, knowing he's hurting her but it's so very hard when he feels so undeserving, so...weak.

Hah.]

I still should have been able to do this. At least be able to have taken back my own body sooner. And for this to be the second time...!

[Her hand takes his, threading their fingers together securely and tightly.]

Were it not for you pulling through it, I might not have been able to do it myself, Cidolfus.

[It does hurt. To think he believes himself undeserving when she most wants to give it to him, when she thinks he is most deserving of it stings, and it makes her hold him that much tighter, like he might run away if she lets him go.]

And gods only know where we might be now instead if you did not.

[She frowns.]

She had gotten into my head. [And it certainly does not help that they had recently just faced Ultima, who said all the same things.] ... That all I ever do is hurt or destroy things.

[He takes a breath and he looks at her. He's still wallowing in his own failings, but just like she's trying to push him, he also wants to push her out of that black pit.]

Do you still believe that now?

[It's a place that they can climb out of together. Another burden to share, even if it is not one that either of them wish to carry.

She winces at his question, the answer immediately coming to her even if there is a small pause in between.]

... Perhaps I do, a little.

[But could he blame her for thinking so, and for being afraid? She could not figure out a way to save him from that soul without hurting him, and all of the other times, she has done the same. She has destroyed, just like the wind slowly destroys the things that it touches, weathers it away until it's turned to dust.]

How many times have you been hurt because of me? Indirectly or by my hand?

And how many times have you saved me with both?

[His hand moves to cradle her face as he musters the strength to push through his own failings because he knows he can at least do this.]

All the times your wind has caught me, soothed me, healed me... When Ultima tried to get in my head, I felt your winds and was reminded of what we had. And even when you were trying to attack the ghost inside me, your winds reminded me of what I needed to fight for and empowered me.

And ultimately, your winds is what destroyed that ghost, wasn't it? To save me.

[Surely he does not think he can hide away from his feelings in hers? Not forever. She gives him a look that says as much as his hand cradles her face. She is just as worried about him still, and he can't very well help her out of this hole she's fallen into if he remains at the bottom of it.]

But you were still hurt.

[She shifts beside him, moving closer, tangling their legs together until there is not an inch of space left between them. There, her lips press together and her brow pinches into a deep frown.]

And that seems to be all I am good for these days, isn't it... Claw at things until they are destroyed. [She scoffs at herself.] Why, of all the times, does this bother me now?

[Maybe—]

Because you want to change, and that's not a bad thing.

... Change is difficult.

[Even now, when she has someone to take her by the hand and guide her through it. She remains ever stubborn in some ways, but she had been so set in her ways for so long that even when she wants to change something, it does not prove to be so easy.]

You have rubbed off on me far too much.

[It is said fondly, with a soft brush of her nose against his.]

I just do not want what Ultima said to be the truth of it. I do not want him to be right about me. About us...

[Because what does a god know?]

But more than that, I... I am tired of seeing you be hurt on my account. [Anger rises in her like bile in the back of her throat, and for half a second, she lets it get the best of her.] Founders, I could not even heal you today, Cidolfus...

But you tried.

[His voice is soft as his hand sweeps through her hair, his lips brushing against hers.]

And you used everything you had.

[And yes he knows his own words could be applied to himself.]

And regardless what you think, I still trust and believe in you. [A regretful smile.] Just like you do in me.

I really would not be here without you, Benna.

[She exhales, her breath slow and shaky over his lips.]

You are too much... but I am sure you already know that.

[His trust and unwavering faith in her after all that they have been through... She knows that it took some time for them both to get here, but the fact that it weighs so much upon her now makes her buckle beneath it, not quite sure what to do with herself when it does.]

... And what of you, hm? You place so much faith in me, but you still cannot do the same for yourself.

[A small self-deprecative huff as he glances away briefly.]

I know I am being hypocritical. But I also feel responsible for putting you in these positions so many times now. Had I been able to act sooner, you wouldn't have been driven into such a corner.

[She echoes that sound he makes with a tired one of her own, though not so much directed at him, even if he can be frustrating at times like this. She can't blame him for it, of course.]

You say that as if we ever have a say in these matters... In harbouring these burdens. Or that you are to blame.

[There's just a furrow of his brows at that because he knows what she's trying to say. And he knows he would tell anyone else the same things she's saying.]

...Like you, it's just hard to accept.

[There's defeat and resignation in his voice, still unable to quite look at her.]

And if there is one thing that woman said that was right, it was my age...and what it could mean.

[She presses a thumb between his brows, trying to smooth out the wrinkles there, but she does lift her head slightly, her own expression hardening.]

What could it mean? What did she say that made you think that?

[He can only remain silent before he finally glances at her.]

It's not so much what she said and more of being reminded of how things were before my death.

... Explain, Cidolfus.

[It's a gentle, coaxing plea, softened by the way her hand brushes over the curve of his jaw to then rest on his cheek, but there is a hardness in her voice beneath it. An edge that she would gladly sharpen against that woman's throat if she had the chance to again.

There is so much about those days leading up to his death that she does not quite understand. She knows what happens, and he has explained the events to her, but not much is understood on her part of how he felt...]

I want to understand.

[He hesitates, still. Looks at her with eyes that are filled with an unfamiliar unease and uncertainty of what she might do should she hear all of it. Of the things he dared not voice or share with anyone, of thoughts even he tried to ignore, had to accept as what must be because to dwell too long would hinder his path forward. Of the pains he kept hidden locked away from even himself. Everything he had endured on his own because he had to.

Everything that now has been clawed up and forced to face after all those years of brushing it off.

And even now, as discomforting and unpleasant as it is, it's not as if he feels a crushing weight or fear or some kind of crisis. It's more frustration, a more acute awareness of this weakness of his.

But how to explain all of this in a way that won't have her fearing more for his well-being? Without upsetting her as he dredges up those hardships? He doesn't want her to pity him, not out of pride, but solely because he doesn't want to see her hurting for him. Hurting for a time where she could not be with him and thus potentially make her feel unneeded guilt.

Yet she is practically pleading for him to share with her, she always has. And eventually he can't resist her heartfelt attempts to make up for that lost time.

So there will be a long sigh of defeat before he slowly starts to speak.]

You already know how advanced my curse was by then... How even just semi-priming would leave me breathless and coughing blood.

The truth is, even if only my arm had started to turn, the worst of the damage was internal. I was still physically fit, but it was starting to take its toll.

[She knows that she might be pushing him too hard, but is that not what he always tries to do with her? Always tries to get her to voice her concerns, her wants, her wishes, and her failures with the hope that he can help her carry that weight? It has been this way between them for what feels like so long now, but in truth, everything that they are and can be is still very much in its infancy. There are still uncertainties and fears between the two of them that need to be dispelled. Thorns that need to be carefully plucked out one by one. What he is still afraid of with her she doesn't know for certain, but perhaps it is the same that she fears from him.

But the number of times he has done it for her she cannot count, but just as he wants to take care of her, she wants to do the same. So when he finally starts to explain, defeated sigh or no, she lets out her own small one with relief.]

And did that make you feel inadequate here?

[There is no way that she cannot feel guilty for it, just like he would never not when it comes to her. That wish to do more will always be there and, given how things had ended between them in their world, she cannot say it's surprising.]

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