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millimeraki · 2 months ago

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Leaders, Dreamers & Rebels

[Cidolfus Telamon / Fem!Reader]

Summary: You, the daughter of one of the most prominent bishop houses of Sanbreque, attend the Remembrance Ceremony in Whitewyrm Castle. Driven by your sense of adventure, you soon find yourself swept away into the moonlit castle gardens by a completely new and unexpected acquaintance – one that leads you far from the expectations of society and deep into the thrill of the unknown.

Word Count: ~ 7k Tags: Teen And Up Audiences, Pre-Game Events, Royalty, Royal Ball, Reader Is A Sunshine Character, Adventurous Upperclass Reader, Freedom Themed, 💃A Little Party Never Killed Nobody💃, Meet Cute Credits: Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Header by me (I tried lol) Author's note: This one has been sitting in the back of my mind for a long time. It basically began as a fanfiction of my own fanfiction which is weird enough, but I like the idea enough so I decided to write is as a stand alone. Also: Why is it that in the FFXVI universe my mind always goes to the royal/upperclass shiz of it instead of the Bearers? (Answer is probably that I watched one too many Royal drama shows). Should I...continue this?? Read on AO3 Inspo Songs: Tide Lines - Heroes ; Midnight Sun Delta Rae - Run Celtic Woman - Ballroom Of Romance

“If I were a bird,

I would fly – away from this place,

out of this cage.

I would journey to where the sun meets the sky,

beyond the reach of time,

and rise anew – kissed by the light.

For if I were a bird,

I would spread my wings and fly,

if only to know that freedom isn’t a lie.”

The man in front of you, young, yet somehow already carrying the air of someone far older – likely due to his distinct mustache – applauded you for an unnecessarily long time after you recited your little poem. You felt compelled to smile in return, just as unnecessarily long, with a wide and polite smile, as was your habit, while subtly scanning your surroundings for an escape route before he could ask…

“May I reserve a place on your dance card? So that we might have a little more time later? I find the flight paths of birds to be an utterly fascinating subject.”

“Oh, well, you see, I mean, yes, I know there’s a truly lovely ball being held today for this joyous occasion, but shouldn’t our focus lie rather on our noble leaders and the singular accord they’re signing for the good of the realm?” you tried to get out of it, gesturing with your closed fan toward the far end of the ballroom.

There, seated at a long, elegant table, illuminated by more crystals than you’d ever seen used as decoration before, set with sumptuous-looking food and an abundance of expensive wine, sat the leaders of all three kingdoms of Storm.

When you had entered the hall alongside your family not that long ago, and your father had introduced you to the table with haste, you had been almost too impressed to recall the proper etiquette.

Elwin Rosfield, his wife, and their two sons, the lord marquesses of Rosaria, one of them the Dominant of the Phoenix; members of the Dhalmekian parliament, accompanied – or perhaps led? – by the Dominant of Titan, Hugo Kupka; and then, of course, your own leader, the Emperor of Sanbreque, flanked by his cardinals, including High Cardinal Sylvestre Lesage and his son Dion, Dominant of Bahamut. All of them had gathered at one table to sign the Triunity that would unite all three kingdoms so that a war of independence like that of Kanver two years ago would be prevented from happening again.

You knew you ought to feel honored to be in the presence of so many high-ranking individuals, and you did, but your experience of attending this noble ceremony was somewhat dulled by the social entanglements it came with, as you had to admit in this particular moment.

The man in front of you – you had already forgotten his name – remained polite in the face of your evasive response. “Indeed,” he agreed. “A truly joyous event, one I would most gladly celebrate on the dance floor with a fair maiden. May I?” He pointed at your dance card, and you had to suppress the reflex to quirk your mouth. He probably wouldn't let it go, so you had just lifted your wrist, where the little card dangled, when your name was called out – your salvation.

Your two best friends from the other bishop houses had spotted you in your distress. They came rushing over in their ornate, beautifully flared ball gowns. You used your own voluminous, white tulle dress to force the man at a distance with a sweeping movement, your arm raised joyfully and waving.

“Thank you kindly for the offer, Milord, but I’m currently otherwise occupied,” you said brightly. “But I’m sure we shall see each other again later this evening.” After offering a curtsy, you hurried past the flustered man.

“That was close!” you whispered with a chuckle once you and your friends had regrouped and put your heads together. “I nearly had to dance with Lord Moustache.”

“Sorry we're so late, our fathers absolutely had to speak to Cardinal Lesage and wouldn't let us go,” explained Cecilia, your friend since childhood. Your families were close, your father likewise good friends. “That's what happens when yours always wants to be the first everywhere.”

“He's a particularly important bishop, after all,” you nodded exuberantly, a grin on your face.

“Lord Moustache aside, there are a few handsome gentlemen here tonight,” remarked Marina standing next to Cecilia. You two had befriended her at her debut into society.

Cecilia snorted. “None as important as the Dominants. You should’ve seen how our fathers,” she gestured back and forth between you and her, “tried to cozy up to Cardinal Lesage, just to get into conversation with anyone at that table. They’d marry us off to any of the Dominants if they could.” She leaned in, voice lowering even more. “Though everyone knows we don’t stand a chance with the Dominant of the Phoenix. The Rosfields only marry within their own blood relations, so the Phoenix keeps being born into the ducal house.”

“Really?!” Marina asked under her breath, trying to keep her surprise in check.

The three of you immersed into a soft, giggling conversation, mouths hidden behind your fans, whispering about the Dominants, nobles, and everyone in between, standing at the edge of the opulent, richly furnished, golden ballroom of Whitewyrm Castle. In the center, the formal dances had already begun. For this event, which they called the Remembrance Ceremony, the Emperor had truly spared no expense or efforts.

Everyone who was anyone was present tonight to witness the signing of the most significant accord since the beginning of the Continental Calendar. It seemed that all the guests had already arrived – from influential merchant families to the noblest authorities of the Greagorian Church.

You wouldn't describe yourself as particularly noble, though your father certainly would – your family was one of the bishop houses, those who governed the dioceses under the five cardinals. And so, your father had dressed you and your two older brothers in the finest garments your house had to offer and sent you off, the scions of an influential family, on a mission to find equally influential partners, your brothers to secure a dowry, and you, to offer yours. All so that one day, your father might ascend to the rank of cardinal himself.

“By the way, have you noticed that man back there?” Cecilia asked, her piercing blue eyes gesturing toward the entrance that led out into the gardens. There, near the buffet, stood someone who seemed completely out of place.

The first thing you noticed were the two swords at his side – why did he think it necessary to carry two? Did he use them both at the same time in battle? And more importantly: why was he even allowed to carry blades at all at an event so clearly dedicated to continental peace? His outfit looked more casual than formal, leather, plain, not exactly what one would call ballroom-appropriate.

“Well, he looks dangerous,” you remarked, stealing a slightly longer glance at the man, who stood upright yet somehow relaxed. Your interest faded just as quickly, and you looked for something else to do – maybe he was a soldier, a security officer in disguise. He certainly didn't belong to the Dragoons. Then it was a man you could ignore for now, he wouldn't approach you and you wouldn't have to fight him off.

“Kind of mysterious, though, isn't he?” Marina replied. “He doesn't look like he belongs to any of the noble houses.”

“That's what I thought too! Shall we speak to him?” Cecilia, ever the adventurer – as all of you often were – was already leaning into the idea.

“Later?” you asked with a grin. “Let’s dance first. My brothers are right over there.”

“Where?!” Cecilia asked eagerly. She’d known your brothers as long as she’d known you, and, honestly, you wouldn’t have minded if she married one of them. Then you’d be sisters for real.

The two brothers, born just a year apart, stood only a few steps away, engaged in conversation with two young ladies you had seen around Whitewyrm Castle once or twice. Very elegant, very polite – noble enough to make a good match. Unfortunately, they would have to find each other again later.

“Aaron!” you called sweetly, prompting your eldest brother to turn toward you. He was dressed stately, almost entirely in white, his clothes adorned with tasteful embellishments, tailored pants that suited him far too well, a loosely fitting shirt, and the only splash of color: a light blue vest. He greeted you with his ususal warm, inviting smile.

“Here comes the cavalry,” grinned the middle child of your family, the son who had it easiest out of all of you. His outfit was casual, not as polished as Aaron’s or yours, but not giving the impression he didn’t care about his looks, either. Duncan didn’t have to worry about inheriting your father’s position or marrying well. He let life pass him by, took from it what he could, and had a good time doing it. Sometimes, you envied him. But then again, you also did plenty of things out of selfish joy yourself.

“We hate to interrupt, but we’d like to invite these gentlemen to dance,” Cecilia teased with a similarly playful grin, already taking Duncan’s hand. He allowed himself to be pulled to the dance floor without protest.

Aaron at least had the decency to say goodbye to the girls in front of him. “Forgive me, ladies, family duty calls, embodied in my far-too-pushy sister.” He placed a hand to his lapel in a respectful gesture and lowered his upper body towards the somewhat disappointed-looking women.

You took pity as you pushed Aaron in front of you, leaned over to the two of them and muttered with a conspiratorial wink, “Sorry, I'll make sure to send the two of them back to you later.”

That didn't seem to conciliate them, and you even understood. They showed rather sour expressions before turning away and disappearing from your view.

The self-inflicted hostility didn’t faze you, Cecilia, or Marina. Even though stealing Aaron and Duncan hadn’t been the most graceful move of your lives, you always managed to distract them from whatever they were engrossed in and get them to spend time with you. That’s what came of knowing each other nearly your whole lives.

You lined up with the dancers in the middle of the ballroom, Cecilia opposite Duncan, you opposite Aaron, and Marina, spontaneous as ever, quickly found herself a dance partner too. As business-like as such grand soirées could be, you always found joy in the dances at the countless parties you’d attended since your debut into Oriflamme’s society – was it four, five years ago now?

The large orchestra struck up a cheerful melody, to which you could give yourself over completely. Performing your practiced steps, you moved across the floor in the midst of the dancing procession of guests without having to think. A wide grin crept onto your lips, you couldn’t help it. Cheerfully, you danced around Aaron, switching partners as the steps dictated, smiling at this stranger too, before returning to Aaron, who in turn was beaming from ear to ear.

He glanced left and right, his grin turning a touch more mischievous – then, as the two of you reached the edge of the formation, he held you close. “Come on, let’s give them a real show.” You let out a squeal, more delighted than anything, as he pushed you out of the group with a hand on your back. He earned a few nasty looks as he did so, one couple even stumbled over their own feet. You broke out of the planned sequence of steps, and just like that, Aaron was flinging you across the wide dance floor, apparently without any planned pattern at all, both of you laughing loudly in no time.

Aside from those whose rhythm you had disrupted, no one, not the orchestra, nor the world leaders at the great table, seemed to mind Aaron’s little rebellion. On the contrary, the first to join in were Cecilia and Duncan, who you had to actively dodge.

You and Cecilia exchanged a deeply affectionate, joyful glance before you lost sight of her, then only able to locate her by the sound of her melodic laughter. If she wasn’t already a real eye-catcher, everyone’s heads would have turned the moment she raised her voice and enchanted the people around her with whatever words she spoke.

Then you noticed that Marina had also persuaded her dance partner to embrace the spirit of the moment. Though, he didn’t seem to appreciate it quite as much as the rest of you. He participated, but his lead lacked enthusiasm, his circles on the dance floor far too small, while other couples swirled past him.

Cecilia and you had the same idea at the same time. You left your brothers behind, rescued Marina away from the man too boring for her, took each other by the hands, and the three of you, sisters at heart, began skipping in your own little circle.

And that’s what you did until the song ended and the orchestra took a break. Naturally, you turned to face the musicians to applaud them, just like everyone else. They bowed in your direction, some looking at you skeptically, others amused, probably the ones who had seen you at parties before and were used to your shenanigans.

“Best not to make eye contact with the head table now,” Cecilia whispered. You all agreed and hurried off the dance floor so that the attention could drift away from you. You heard the crowd murmuring and, as always, opinions were mixed. The younger guests who had joined your improvisation smiled encouragingly, while the older, more traditional ones gave you stern looks and a few scolding words. You just giggled.

Aaron and Duncan caught up with you, both slightly out of breath. It hat do be hot in those outfits. You were warm too, but nothing a little break and a fresh drink couldn’t fix.

“Oh, children,” came from beside you. Your mother peeled herself out of the cluster of people you were about to disappear into, a tired expression on her face. “Aaron,” she turned to your older brother, “as the future head of the family, you really shouldn't always be so…,” she searched for the right word, “out of line.”

Aaron, who had looked like he was about to apologize, showed a surprised expression, followed by an amused smile. “Pun intended?” He slung an arm around your mother’s shoulders and gave her a warm squeeze.

Your mother clicked her tongue, her expression softening. “It’s not like I don’t know how much fun it can be. But of all things, at this ceremony.” She pinched Aaron’s cheek. “Of all occasions, I would have liked my children to behave at least slightly better than usual. You’re lucky your father is very focused on supporting Cardinal Lesage.”

She nodded toward the grand table, near which the cardinals stood, including Cardinal Lesage, with your father next to them. The two of them were engaged in lively conversation. Cardinal Lesage laughed after something your father said, then both their gazes drifted over to you. You froze, your eyes widened, unblinking, afraid that you had drawn the Cardinal's wrath upon you. But things turned out quite differently. Cardinal Lesage gave you a very gentle smile and raised his cup toward you. Your father next to him smiled benevolently. You exhaled in relief, offered your most charming smile in return, followed by a curtsy and a respectful bow of the head.

“Seems to me we made just the right impression,” Duncan remarked, clearly not missing the silent exchange. “Your father also seems to be charming Cardinal Lesage, Cecilia.”

Cecilia rolled her eyes. “Where her father is, mine has never been far behind.” Her gaze also drifted over to the cardinals and bishops. “I wonder where Cardinal Lesage’s little Dominant is.”

Now that she mentioned it – Dion Lesage was no longer at his father's side, where he was usually often to be found.

“Look, there he is. He found a little friend.” Marina pointed toward a quieter corner, where the two young Dominants of the Phoenix and Bahamut stood together, chatting, both with polite, gentle smiles on their faces.

“Adorable, those two.” You heart swelled at the sight of the two sweet boys, the futures of their kingdoms, standing side by side. It made you wonder whether it was time for you to start thinking about your own family. But what would become of you then? Was that the fate you truly wished for?

You told your family and friends you’d fetch some drinks and took the opportunity to take a moment for yourself. With slowly sauntering steps, you made your way to the lavish buffet, treating yourself to a snack or two, a grape here, a piece of cheese there, until you reached the drink section: juices, lemonades, anything the heart could desire. Even alcohol was freely available on the tables, but you left it at a lemonade to quench your thirst for now. Then you looked around for a tray to carry more glasses.

“That was quite the lively display of defiance, if I may say so,” came a voice from beside you. So much for a quiet moment to yourself. As you turned your head toward the voice, you were already thinking about what kind of witty reply you could use to brush off the suitor, but the words caught in your throat when you saw Hugo Kupka standing in front of you. The man was positively huge, practically the embodiment of his Eikon, even though you’d only ever seen images of Titan. He exuded the kind of arrogance only a thoroughly self-important man could possess, Dominant or not, this image only reinforced by the rich jewelry on his person: a fancy ring on every finger. At least he made an effort to conceal that attitude with a smile, albeit unsuccessful. As far as you knew, he was about Duncan’s age.

You adjusted your expression as quickly as you could, hoping he hadn't noticed your momentary surprise. With a curtsy, you replied, “My brother always knew how to surprise people, milord.”

“That was your brother you danced with?” Kupka asked curiously, rubbing his chin and glancing toward your family, who were still engaged in their own conversation.

“Indeed.” You knew better than to turn a Dominant down. “Do you have siblings, milord?”

His intense gaze came back to you. “No, my family didn't have enough money for that.”

“Oh. Oh well. I can assure you, milord, that it’s not always sunshine and rainbows when you have two older brothers like I do. You learn early on to be prepared for all sorts of things others wouldn’t even think about.” You had to grin.

Kupka raised an eyebrow and showed an amused expression. “And what sort of things would those be?”

You were just about to start telling the story of how Aaron and Duncan had once left you stranded on a small island when a new voice interrupted the conversation – not entirely to your displeasure, though slightly so, because it was another man.

“Hugo, so far from your noble colleagues?” The voice was deep and gravelly, slicing through the air like sharp stones, though it carried a hint of mischief.

Kupka’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the newcomer, who now stepped into your field of vision from behind. You swallowed. It was the stranger whom Cecilia, Marina, and you had eyed earlier, the one with the two swords at his side and the leather outfit. Your eyes had never traveled up to his face. Now, looking at him thoroughly, you were annoyed at the way surprise washed over you once again and your cheeks warmed up.

“A man with a physique like mine’s gotta eat. Not like you scrawny old man would understand,” Kupka replied pointedly. He clearly didn’t like the man in front of him.

“Ouch, now I’m scrawny and old. Remind me what happened the last time you ran into this scrawny old man?” A grin spread across the man's well-proportioned face, his scruffy stubble shifting with the movement of his facial muscles.

“Careful, Cid. I don’t even know why they let you in here, but I’m not above kicking you out.” Kupka was visibly getting more irritated by the second.

You observed their threatening conversation, wondering why they were so hostile towards each other. Perhaps they had once faced off in a skirmish and this Cid had bested Kupka. You had to admit, it was hard to imagine. The Dominant of Titan, a muscular man through and through, versus the one standing across from him. He wasn’t really scrawny, nor did he look particularly old, but he was shorter and had less muscle mass – not that that was difficult when compared to Kupka.

Not keen on standing by should the two go at each other's throats, and also not inclined to interfere to defuse the escalation that might be imminent, you cautiously began to move away from the men.

“Oh look, you made the lady uncomfortable,” you were unfortunately stopped immediately, two sparkling forest-green eyes locking onto you.

“O-Oh.” You couldn’t help but stare at Cid in fascination. His presence impressed you, though you couldn’t quite say why. Maybe it was the confident demeanor that, unlike Kupka’s, felt inviting; or the crooked grin on his face that somehow intuitively told you he wasn’t a threat; or the notion that life with him would never be boring.

“I just wouldn’t want to interrupt what seems to be an important reunion, gentlemen,” you pulled yourself together and regained your confidence. “I was actually on my way to bring my family some refreshments.” You gestured toward the drinks beside you.

“This is certainly no important reunion,” Kupka grumbled. “No matter, Telamon’s presence has soured the whole scene anyway. You can have the lady if you’re that desperate.”

Kupka gestured grandiosely patronizingly toward you with his wine glass, then walked off without another word.

You wanted to protest that it really wasn’t necessary to argue over you, you were just here to get some drinks, after all. But Kupka leaving now suited you just fine. He was more intimidating than charming anyway.

The man beside you snickered as Kupka walked away. Then he turned to you. “You’re welcome.”

“Did I seem like I was in some kind of peril?” you asked challengingly, though you couldn’t stop your lips from curving into a smile. Something about the other man’s aura made you feel more at ease than with most others. It was the same kind of ease you felt around your brothers, only with the added complication of a very attractive face.

“When you’re near Titan’s Dominant, you’re automatically in some kind of peril,” he said with a smirk. “Not that you wouldn’t maybe have had a good time with him, Lady…” He looked at you inquisitively.

You introduced yourself.

“Ah, one of the Bishop daughters who gave that extraordinary performance earlier. Seems to me like your names are always on some tongues. Very infamous. I am almost envious.”

“Only almost?” you asked with a grin.

He returned your gesture. “Aye, only almost. That is, because I have the luxury of not having to dance and look pretty in the first place.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, the thought flashing through your mind that he hardly had anything to hide, he was more than pretty enough himself.

“And then,” he continued, rummaging in the pocket of his jacket, “I can’t lose things like this.”

He produced a soft-white ribbon you immediately recognized, as it bore some embroidery you had done yourself. Surprised, your hand shot to your hair, only to discover that you had lost it and no one had noticed, or no one had told you.

“Thank you, for picking it up,” you thanked him with a big smile, this was one of your favorites, took it, pressed your fan into the man's hands and began to fix your hair.

“Don’t mention it.” The man examined your fan curiously, then pulled a pack of cigarillos from another pocket and lit one using a crystal he also wore on him. You had never liked the smell of smoke, but you had gotten used to it, it was all around you anyway.

He took a drag from the smoldering stem and lazily exhaled the smoke. “Always happy to help a beautiful woman to be able to tie a bow in her hair.”

The words made you flustered, so you just smiled, opting to focus on getting the knot right.

“I suppose, from what I’ve gathered, I have to to thank a man named Cid Telamon for that?” you asked afterward, resting your now slightly aching arms down and reclaiming your fan, which you held in both hands.

“Aye, that would be my name. Charmed, I’m sure.” He tilted his upper body in your direction, causing a chuckle to escape you. It was obvious he didn’t belong here.

“What?” he asked, still with amusement in his voice.

“That looked...interesting,” you simply said, ”do you rarely do that, my lord?”

“Rarely enough, apparently,” he smirked and took another puff on his cigarillo. “Not attending these kind of events very often.”

“I gathered. Those garbs don’t exactly scream Sanbrequois nobility, or any other for that matter. Where do you hail from, Cid Telamon?”

He took his time answering your seemingly innocent question, though you were curious to know what country he belonged to. He clearly had some quarrel with Dhalmekia. This was supposed to be a peace ceremony between Rosaria, Sanbreque, and Dhalmekia. Did that mean he was from another kingdom? A leftover soldier from the Northern Territories?

“Just someone with a keen interest in this fine ceremony,” he answered cryptically.

You pursed your lips in a pout and crossed your arms. “My friends were right when they said you were a mysterious character. Maybe,” you lowered your voice conspiratorially, “you’re a spy.”

“Sounds more like you and your friends were spying on me, standing innocently in the corner,” he countered, his voice equally playful and leaning just close enough to make your temperature rise from warm to hot.

“Surveying the premises,” you shot back with all the coquetry you had in you. “It was actually my best friend who saw you first. Maybe you should talk to her about all the spying she did.”

You pointed in the direction of your two friends, engrossed in a conversation with two distinguished gentlemen, from what you saw from one of the high houses of Rosaria - apparently they didn't miss you.

Cid followed your gesture, but his steadying gaze quickly returned to you. “But I’m talking to you right now.”

You nervously toyed with your hair, opened your mouth to ask a more innocuous question and keep the refreshing conversation going, only to be interrupted by a loud proclamation from the center of the hall: “Hear, hear! It is time for the signing of the Accord – bear witness to this monumental milestone in Valisthean history.” The bannerman struck the marble floor with his staff. All the guests turned toward the front table, murmuring excitedly, slowly forming a cluster in front of it that blocked the view of the Rosfields, the Emperor, and Hugo Kupka.

In the midst of the hustle and bustle, you suddenly felt a warm breath on your ear. A shiver ran through you as Cid whispered to you in a gravel voice, yet so enticing: “Wanna get out of here?”

You turned to him, catching the adventurous sparkle in his eyes and his hand extended toward you. In a split second, you decided to take it. He pulled you along, and while everyone else was distracted, the two of you slipped past the buffet toward a side entrance you knew all too well. It led to the more secluded part of the imperial gardens. If you were already breaking the rules again, you figured, you might as well grab a delicious-looking chocolate cake from the buffet, a move to which Cid responded with a snicker.

You left the immediate surroundings of the castle behind and wandered deep into the vast gardens. Gradually, silence settled around you, the murmur of voices replaced by chirping creatures in the bushes nearby. The air was heavy this summer night, the sky clear, though you could make out thick clouds on the horizon.

For a moment, you felt a queasy feeling creeping up on you at the hasty decision to leave your familiar surroundings and the proximity of society alongside a man who was essentially a stranger as he let go of your hand in the middle of the gardens next to a crystal-powered fountain, surrounded by tall, opaque, meticulously trimmed hedges and fields full of wyvern tails. You placed the cake you'd brought along on a bench in front of the fountain, wondering if this had been one of your particularly stupid ideas, and looked at Cid.

Your doubts vanished instantly when you saw his face in the glow of the crystals, not looking at you, but gazing up at the sky. The soft light contoured his features just right, tracing his jawline, casting a very special gleam on his smile, and you felt so drawn to it all that you couldn’t help but stay.

His eyes wandered from the night sky to you, then to the cake you had stolen. “Sweet tooth?” he asked.

You giggled. “Yeah, I hope you do, too. Brought two forks.” With as elegant a swing as possible, you dropped onto the bench, from where you looked at him expectantly.

“Usually more of a whiskey and salty kind of guy, but for you, I’ll make an exception,” he replied, and the remark didn’t surprise you at all as he sank down beside you and accepted a fork. You placed the dark cake on the skirt of your white-and-blue dress – risky but intentional – and plunged your fork straight in.

It was an especially rich, flavorful cake, and with the first bite, you let out a satisfied sound. “This is really good. Think we’ll eat the whole thing?”

Cid smirked. “If you can manage that much.” He also took a bite. “Gotta admit, though – it's delicious.”

You ate the cake side by side in silence. The truth that you couldn't eat that much cake in one go came quickly. “So,” you said, subtly lowering your fork, “why did you suggest we most indecently sneak away from society?”

He didn’t miss the fact that you’d stopped eating, so he lowered his own fork as well and instead lit another cigarillo, taking his time with the answer, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the night air. “Cause I thought you looked like you could use some fun,” he said with a mischievous look, “and space to breathe.”

“Oh, well,” you smiled at the accuracy of the observation, “it is not easy being a child of a most holy house. Then again, I have it easier than most, I guess.” He just watched you, the cigarillo between his lips, and you felt like you should keep talking. “But,” you turned your gaze away from him to the star-speckled sky above, “have you ever wondered what it would be like? Not to carry all that burden, I mean. No expectations, no...no pretense. Just going wherever you want? Doing whatever you want, without people talking about it? I guess what I mean is…being free.”

You fell silent right after the words had left your lips. You felt lighter having said them, but to whom? You laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, that was so inappropriate, we don’t even know each other.”

Nervously, you looked in his direction, only to find him smiling sympathetically. His eyes drifted from yours down your face and stopped at something. You raised your hand in confusion, about to ask what he saw, but he beat you to it, lifting his gloved hand to the corner of your mouth. Your eyes widened as the cold leather touched your heated skin, his thumb brushing across the corner of your mouth, then along your lower lip, and you tasted a hint of chocolate. After he withdrew his hand, you wiped your mouth once more with delicate fingers, making sure there was no more chocolate on you.

“I think my hunch on what kind of person you are is pretty solid,” he said. “I can relate.”

“You can?” you asked, still feeling the whisper of his glove on your lips. “So what kind of person are you?”

“Me? I’m just a soldier like any other,” he replied, though his gaze lingered thoughtfully on his hand. “But if there isn’t something comforting about what you would do if you were truly free, right?” He looked at you then, his eyes giving nothing away of what his words stirred inside him.

“Yes…” Your features softened, your hand twitched forward, you barely stopped yourself from touching him, though you already wanted to. You thought for a moment, then a curious question came to mind. “Cid.”

“Hm?”

“What would you do?”

“What would I do?”

“If you were truly free, what would you do?” You smiled invitingly, more intrigued by your own question than you'd expected.

The sparkle returned to his eyes. “What would you do?” He leaned casually against the back of the bench and stretched his arm out to rest behind you.

“Hey, I asked first,” you giggled.

“Fair.” He thought for a while, took a drag from his cigarillo. “If I were completely free to do as I pleased,” he exhaled the smoke slowly into the air, filling it with aroma and anticipation, “then I’d move to a nice little town and open a shop.”

You blinked in surprise. “A shop?” You leaned toward him with curiosity. “What kind of shop?”

He stubbed out the cigarillo. “You first. What would you do if you were truly free?”

“Unfair!” you exclaimed, amused, bouncing a little on your seat from excitement. He smirked. “But alright.” You placed the cake still resting in your lap on the ground in front of you and stood up. “I’ll start small. If I were truly free, I would do this.” You bent down and freed yourself from the constricting, painful heels. Your feet touched the cool grass beneath them, eliciting a happy sound from you.

“Here you go.” You handed your shoes to Cid. He took them with the same grin and intrigued expression.

You gathered your skirts and strutted past the bench. His eyes and body followed you as you climbed onto the edge of the fountain behind you and jumped straight into the water. You squealed softly as your feet touched the cold water, but it was a welcome relief from the increasingly muggy air. Your face was sprinkled with a bit of water from the spout. Your dress got soaked too, but at this point, that hardly mattered.

Cid stood up from the bench laughing, still holding your shoes. “What a daring thing to do.” He watched as you let go of your skirts and, with arms stretched toward the sky, danced through the small fountain, beaming.

You gave a small laugh. “I feel very free and very daring.” Out of the fountain, you looked up at him, invitingly. “So? What kind of shop would you open?”

His grin widened. “It would be a 360-degree engineering shop.”

“Engineering shop? You mean like a forge?”

“Sort of. I’d need a forge, but also a carpenter, a tailor, basically any craft that gets their hands a little dirty.” He looked dreamily into the distance. “I’d design contraptions that help us in our lives, that serve the greater good. Advanced designs for infrastructure, agriculture, our cooking stations.”

“So your calling is to be an engineer?” you asked, surprised that a soldier had such a dream.

“I’ve been told I’m good at it. Even designed a really big, really fast ship.”

“Oh, impressive. Is it faster than the Einherjar? I heard she’s the fastest vessel in the whole world.”

“We’ll have to find that out. Your turn.” He adjusted his posture, but with your shoes in his hands, he looked a bit stiff.

“You can put those down, I don’t need them right now.” You gestured toward the shoes.

“That’s alright. I rather like them. Look as sweet as their owner. I like the little flower pattern on them.”

You smiled shyly at the compliment and the unusual topic of fashion, something you normally only discussed with other women.

“Right, my turn. If I were truly free,” you thought for a while, trying to fill the air with anticipation just like he had, “I would travel the world, see everything, experience everything, eat the most exotic foods, just...be, live.” At least, as long as the Blight hadn't taken up too much of the world yet.

He made a sound of recognition. “You don’t think it would be lonely?”

You laughed softly. “I’m never lonely, only alone. Besides, as you can see, I can have enlightening conversations with chocolate cake and an attractive stranger anywhere, completely unexpectedly.”

He snickered. “So you think I’m attractive?”

“As if you don’t know you are,” you countered playfully.

“Quite the adventurous lady.”

“As if you didn’t know I was,” you shot back again.

“True. Wanna get out of that fountain anytime soon?” He finally placed your shoes on the edge of the fountain and offered you his hand. You placed your hand in his for support, when you suddenly felt a raindrop on your arm. A glance upward revealed the clouds you'd seen earlier on the horizon. Now they loomed dark overhead. A rumble echoed through the air, and in the next moment, the sky opened up. You squeaked as the rain instantly drenched you, the drops thick, heavy, and cool against your heated skin.

You allowed yourself a moment to stretch your face toward the sky and feel the summer downpour. You had always loved nights like this, and somehow, tonight had unexpectedly become something truly special. Smiling brightly, you looked at Cid, whose cheerful face was streaked with small lines of rain. A flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed by a clap of thunder so immediate you screamed in surprise, looking for support on his shoulders, then burst out laughing. He laughed too, his deep voice vibrating through his shoulders. His hands rested at your waist, steadying you, but also pulling you closer to him at the edge of the fountain.

His gaze softened, the grin on your face faded into a gentle smile as he raised a hand to brush a wet strand of hair away.

You snorted quietly, amused. “Who are you?”

His face came closer. “Just someone named Cid, for this evening.”

For a moment you hesitated, but then cupped his face in both hands and placed your lips on his. Rain-slicked, they glided effortlessly and smoothly over each other. Your skin tingled, and despite the cold pour above you, you felt warmer. Unexpected, but not unwelcome, he stretched out your connection. His kiss was deep, and you plunged right in to let it consume you. It overwhelmed your senses, blurred out the world around you, until only the feel of his lips remained – along with the lingering taste of chocolate and cigarillo.

He gave you only a brief moment to catch your breath before his hand settled on the back of your neck, pulling you to him once more. Your lips collided with increasing passion, and it took everything you had to keep standing as your knees weakened. A shiver raced down your spine, your stomach fluttered with excitement. A soft sigh escaped you, followed by a barely-there gasp against his lips as he drew you even closer, only the narrow ledge of the fountain keeping your bodies from being fully pressed together. You barely heard the repeated thunder, it was as if he had pulled you into another reality, one where you were as free as a bird.

The kiss left you gasping for air, yet still yearning for more as he severed your connection once more. You kept your eyes closed, your mouth slightly open, savoring the proximity of his lips as they brushed against yours all too gently. Your fingers glided over the stubble on his jaw, the slight tingle at your fingertips a welcome contrast to the softness of his lips. Your heavy breaths mingled, but you could feel this endearing grin returning against your own. The anticipation of another kiss already hung in the air. You smiled softly, looking ahead, only his moss-green eyes visible before you.

“Take me somewhere nice then, Cid.”

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