#[ he still follows his duty ultimately because he understands the weight behind it he's a true marine but at what cost

[trashbinbackyard]

1-19 for moe n hoe & lucien + viessa?

Ok these four is what I call the "bisexuals eating my brain" Also black hair + red hair duos!

Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’ ?

I think both. Both of them can get very stubborn, but ultimately it comes from place of love. iirc you said Joe would storm off with a "because I love you" to cool off. Mae would defend her point with "I think this because I love you". After cooling off they make up like adults,

Again both, both are stubborn (especially in the beginning), and Lucien has a bit of a petty streak to him. The situation usually follows a "Lucien don't you do the dumb shit, I will yell at you about this bc I love and care about you", or a "Viessa, I'm doing the dumb shit bc I love and care about you"

What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?

Mae isn't as haunted by nightmares, and after having kids she's a fairly light sleeper, so if Joe was to jolt awake, she would follow soon behind, hearing him breathe heavily she would stroke his hair and lay her head on his chest and ask if he wants to talk about it, or offer to get him something

Both are very much haunted by Visions (mostly of Deanoh, he's pretty pissed this "escaping death" thing happened AGAIN). They both have such deep understanding of the other they don't even need to speak when it happens, just hold each other, the weight grounds them

Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)

Joe simply cannot fit into Mae's clothes and will not wear accessories. Mae is a hoodie FIEND, and often sleeps in Joe's tshirts too

Lucien is bigger in stature, but Viessa’s silk robes still fit him, they’re perfect for hot summer mornings. He also has ear piercings he sometimes puts Viessa’s jewelry in. Viessa sometimes wears Luciens coats, they’re thick, warm and comforting, and wears a necklace with Luciens old signet ring on it

Which one is more protective? Who needs to be ‘protected’?

Both. But Joe more for simply being bigger and "honey please you are 5 foot nothing do NOT". Mae acts like she hates it when he does that but actually really appreciates Joe having her back every day all day

Both of them are highly capable of holding their own, be it in battle or social or social situations. But both are driven to keep the other safe. Viessa's magic is mostly wards, so she can keep Lucien safe like that. Lucien figures if he can stab an enemy dead before they get the chance to even look at Viessa, that's what he'll do

Describe their cozy night in.

The kids are asleep, dog walked and fed, cuddles up on the couch, have a bottle of wine. Movie or something playing in the background but all their attention is on each other

Viessa can conjure a wholeass manor if she so wishes, but she intentionally makes it smaller and cozier. Cozy night in for them is sitting by the fireplace, both reading their own books across from each other. If they want to be closer, Viessa hoists her legs on Luciens lap

Who would beg the other not to leave?

Mae would and did. Was a bad time for both of them every time Joe had to leave to a new job

They both would feel bad if they had to seperate, but neither would beg the other to stay, they are aware of their situations and the decisions they need to make to keep themselves safe

Who has to leave to protect the other?

It isn't like that?

Both. When they stick together for too long, suspicions start to arise, because way down the line, they will be ghosts, they aren't supposed to exist at all.

Would they build a pillow fort together just because?

Maybe in the way of "ok the kids love to do this, whats all this about"

Nah

What happens if one of them gets sick?

Mae goes into mom-mode, Joe will NOT leave the couch for the whole day or so help her god, he's may have the manly man sniffles but gets the same treatment as their kids. Mae's a bit whiny and wants to be taken care of as well, so it Joe's duty to keep her supplied with tea and painkillers

Just force the other to take it slow and stay in bed. Lucien would like to keep going and complain the whole time but he can't do it if he gets to actually rest. Viessa would haul her book collection to bed with her and Lucien has to one book at a time take them away from her and make her have a nap instead

What are their thoughts on having children?

Joe has been a hell yeah for as he know what having children and the responsibility means. Mae was a bit more hesitant, not about being a parent as much as being pregnant, but Joe was supportive enough for her to do it twice

They're both physically middle-aged, so if either of them had ever wanted kids (even before they died) they would've had them already

Describe their first date.

They agreed to meet when Joe was forcibly removing gently escorting Mae out of Mirad's joint. The went for dinner and drinks, had a lovely time and really clicked. Got even a goodnight kiss out of it and the itch to go on another date

It was the "let me show you something" kind. Lucien took Viessa out into far-north, to the cliffsides of Thani, overgrown with gardens, overlooking the northern sea and the second largest city of Thani at night. They'd sit there and stare at the night sky the whole night.

Do either try to hide their emotions if upset? Can the other still tell?

Joe does his darnest to hide his emotions, and it worked for some time, until Mae learned to pick up on the little things that indicate he's upset. She'll gently coax him to open up, and even if he doesn't she'll make it known she' there for him

They both would rather bottle shit up and never let anyone know anything that's bothering them. And it took a long while for them to be honest about their feelings, and be upfront, because an eternity together would really suck if you keep shit bottled up. Lucien is very good at reading people, so in the beginning he would know something is bothering Viessa even if she didn't indicate it. Meanwhile Viessa isn't as adept with people, so she would have no clue (plus Lucien is extremely good at lying and hiding things)

Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over?

The worst of them had been back when Joe was mercenary, they needed to talk it out thoroughly. They've taken heed of that and resolve their issues with first calming down on their own and then coming together like "ok how do we deal with this"

Before they had feelings for each other they basically disagreed over everything, but nothing worse than: V: "you're wrong" L: " l + ratio + im in your pocket dimension". The worst was also in the beginning when Viessa was in serious distress and just an existencial crisis and Lucien told her to stop being such a baby, he later did apologize and admitted thats how he used to feel like. Viessa would also apologize for being hardheaded and riling him up when that has happened

Who’s the bigger tease?

Joe takes the cake with the smallest margin. I think Making Mae flustered is a personal highlight for him, and getting joking punched on the arm as a result

Lucien is just overall more prone to teasing, he's a little shit sometimes as well as more promiscious, but it adds a new type of headache (affectionate) Viessa gets to deal with. (Lucien being able to speak directly into people's heads only makes this worse)

How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?

Both are outgoing and loud, confident and assertative, know what they want and what they're worth. Mae's very open with her feelings while Joe is very reluctant to she his. They work togehter so smoothly because their temperaments are basically the same. But having two very assertative and confident people can lead to butting heads, which has happened

Lucien... while not very outgoing himself, likes to be around people a lot, while Viessa would like to lock herself in her room and do magic things all day. He's managed to coax her out a bit more and appreciate people, and she has made it so he actually likes to relax and take time for himself. They're both very intellegigent and work as duo very smoothly

Do they always say 'i love you' before leaving?

Every time, without fail

They do, but not out loud everytime, sometimes a squeeze on the hand or kiss on the neck will do

Can they stay up all night just talking?

They could but they have work in the morning and the kids need their breakfast and luch packed

Yes and they sometimes do. Just discuss the universe and go super deep and meta

Who's more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately?

Both. Though I dont think Joe would appreciate being on the receiving end in public, in private Mae can (pretend to) manhandle him a bit. This will make Mae swoon

Both at the same time, Lucien's hands go for the waist and Viessa's to his neck. Neither of them really appreciate the "suprise passionate kiss" thing, time and place

How likely are they to have fur babies? How many and what kind?

They have a beast called Buddy, he is their fourth child. When time leaves buddy behind I think they would take in another dog, they already have the stuff to take care of it and the kids know how to live with a pet

Viessa used to be accompanied with a variety of cats (they were spirits of magic and thus not actual cats). So she would have one or two (or five) roaming around her pocket dimension. Lucien's never really had pets so it took him a while to get used to waking up a furry lump on him

How do they feel about PDA?

They're touchy, they're lovey dovey, but remain appropriate. A quick kiss, holding hands/waist, Mae's hand in Joe's backpocket

They're quite reserved. But there are times Viessa would lean her head on Luciens shoulder when sitting down, or Lucies would hold his hand on her waist when making their way through a city

[aetheternity]

Ok, but if you had to pick ~Aot x Y/N

"How exactly are we gonna get into Levi's office?" Sasha asks

"Maybe we should go through the window?” Mikasa replies

"Or.. we don't play ninja and just use the door. This is around the time he heads to the kitchen to get his nightly tea anyway." Ymir remarks heading through the hallway ahead of everyone.

"How exactly do you know that?" You ask, mouth slightly agape.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Ymir replies to which Sasha snickers, elbowing you in the stomach as you all walk down the hall. "Why're you laughing? I'm not kidding."

The hallway is dimly lit aside from the candles placed on either sides in their individual holders. Whispers of conversation float to your ears as you follow Mikasa with Sasha practically clinging to your back and Historia and Ymir just behind her. Mikasa stops in her steps gesturing to you as you all finally stop in front of Levi’s door. 

“Well, go in.” She points 

“By myself?!” You squeak 

“Ugh, move.” Ymir pushes past you opening Levi’s door with zero hesitation. 

“Ymir!” Historia grunts following 

Sasha is the last one to enter behind you. Her fingers still hooked into your sleep shirt. Ymir gestures to the empty office with widespread arms and a look of ‘I told you so’ plastered onto her face. 

“Great! Grab your rose and let’s go.” Sasha pushes 

“Where is it?” You gesture to the brown couch in the corner of his office. “I remember leaving it here.” 

“Shouldn’t someone be keeping look out?” Historia asks 

“Mm, is this it?” Ymir points to a long stemmed rose slightly hunched over in a clear small vase in the window sill. 

“I’d assume, unless someone was giving Levi roses.” Before you’d even realized you were doing it your eyebrows scrunched. 

“Ooooo is someone jealous?” Sasha cooed with a giggle 

“I thought you weren’t into Levi.” Historia replied 

“Hey, what’re you all doing in here?” 

You grumbled out some words before plucking the rose on the window sill from Levi’s vase. “I needed this back.” You held the rose up for him to see. “Please don’t punish the others it was my idea. I just need to figure out who gave me this so I can return it to them.” 

“Captain’s here.” Mikasa announced 

"Congratulations you're the worst look out ever." Ymir huffed

Levi let out a deep sigh, stride short as he walked his way to the middle of the room. “The rose is where it belongs then.” Without another word Levi made his way over to his desk plopping into his chair and placing his tea cup next to his paperwork. “And if you all want to escape extra cleaning duties for breaking into my office you’ll leave now.” 

Without another word Mikasa snatched Sasha from where she’d been holding onto your waist followed by Ymir and Historia who didn’t hesitate to march right out the door. 

“Goodnight Captain.” You weren’t too surprised that he didn’t reply back as you shut his large wooden door behind you quickly met with six pairs of wide eyes and Ymir who looked thoroughly done with tonight. 

“It was him!” Historia bounces with delight, lips parted into the letter O.

“Captain understands romance??” 

“Can we please go?” You huff pushing past all the girls already ready to plop into your bed and go to sleep. 

“One down four to go.” Ymir snorted 

“When’s Armin gonna confess?” Sasha chimed in 

“Maybe you should just tell him you know, it might help get the ball rolling.” Mikasa said 

“Yeah but won’t he be embarrassed?” Historia asked 

“Does he seriously think he’s been subtle enough this whole time that everyone in the entire survey corps hasn’t figured it out yet?” Ymir questioned 

You turned in your stride, “Ok that’s it. For the rest of the night please no more boy talk.” 

Everyone looked to each other before nodding in silent agreement. “It’s about time this topic has never interested me anyway.” Ymir said quickly walking ahead of everyone.

~~~~

"They were that worried?? It's been two days."

Mikasa shrugged, "Yesterday he passed out because I mentioned your name in conversation, honestly I don't think he's ready to confess yet."

"I'll be honest I'm not ready to hear it yet." You groaned. Mikasa's eyes narrowed and you shook your head. "I'm not gonna hurt him! It's just.. letting the other guys down would be way easier.."

"So you've already told Eren, Jean and Connie no?"

"By tell them no-" Mikasa let out a long sigh. "Yeah, yeah I know."

Mikasa crossed her arms against her chest, "Are you sure this isn't just you liking the attention?"

Your lips popped open before shutting again only to repeat the same action a couple more times. Mikasa's smile making your face warm. When you pout she let's loose a little giggle.

"Just let me go see Armin."

"I'm right here if you need me."

"Mm." You pushed the door in making your way to the stool sat directly next to Armin's bed.

The open window let in a cooling breeze that made the soft white curtains flutter. The trees outside swaying in unison to the comforting air as you looked over at Armin. Unsurprisingly his cheeks already had a delicate pink coloring to them from the moment you sat down.

"Hey, how're you doing?" You scooted your seat closer contemplating reaching out for his arm but ultimately decided not to.

He didn't make eye contact but his voice was timid as it exited his mouth. "I'm doing better."

"Are you mad at me?"

The bed creaked under Armin's weight as he slid his body up till his back was flat against the headboard. When his blue irises fell on your eyes you felt a tinge of warmth spread in your stomach. The corners of his lips lightly raised.

"I don't think I could ever be mad at you." He admitted, playing with the tips of his fingers.

"That's good." You exhaled with relief

"I'm guessing you know.." This time when you look up at him you're met with his side profile. Gorgeous blond lashes flush over his cheeks. "It's ok. I don't know who told you but I hope this doesn't put unnecessary pressure on you, I know Eren likes you too."

A partial cough/chuckle/scoff leaves your lips and his head darts over to you.

"And Jean and Connie.... Captain Levi.."

"The Captain too!'

"Shhhhh!" You reach out for his shoulders. "Wait, nevermind no one's gonna hear you." You huff, slumping back in your chair. "I don't know what I'm gonna do." You stood walking to the other end of the room to place your hand on the wall.

"Well.. who do you want?" Armin's fingers came up to twist in his short sleeved white tee.

"See that's the real problem." You walk all the way back, stride short judging by the way Armin slinks back against his pillow. "I already hurt the Captain and I didn't even have time to properly think over his confession."

"Do you think of him that way?"

"I don't know how I think of him."

"And Eren?"

"Gave me this." You point to the piece of jewelry you're still sporting from Eren the green perfectly cascading with the light from the open window. Almost missing the small twitch of Armin's nostrils.

"Jean? Connie?"

"The sweetest guys i've ever met.."

Armin's chuckle is faint almost inaudible as he shifts his body turning to properly face you. "So, when are you going to tell them you like me?"

The motion you'd done in the hall with your lips makes a reappearance now. "I-i'm sorry wha-" Your voice comes out dry and choked.

"You really don't remember the night we kissed do you?"

"What?"

Armin sighs crossing his hands against his knees. "The night we all got drunk. You woke up the next morning and you told me you didn't remember a thing so I didn't say a word. But that night before everyone passed out you jumped into my arms and kissed me."

Before you could say a word the door to the infirmary slammed open. Sasha, Historia and Mikasa all stood deadly still with wide eyes.

"What!" Was the first thing to leave Sasha's mouth.

"You kissed Armin!" Historia squealed "Holy sh-"

"That's not royalty language." Mikasa silenced her.

You grunted turning back to Armin. "How- Why- When?.."

"That night you'd gone on and on about your parents. I'd only drunk a couple beers and everyone else including you was drunk off their ass. At some point you left me to go throw up or something and then you came back, ran into my arms and kissed me."

"Holy sh-" Sasha started immediately cut off by Mikasa's hand slapping over her mouth.

"I just don't think you should curse." Mikasa explained

"There has to be more to this story." Historia replied "Did anyone else see this happening?"

"It was just us in the room." Armin said

"I- I'm sorry Armin.." Your heels clicked over the tiled floor as you walked your way out of the infirmary closing the door.

[hysterialevi]

Hjarta | Chapter 7

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

FIVE DAYS LATER

BJORNHEIMR, THE TEMPLE

Eivor cradled the basket in his hand, meticulously examining its contents to ensure that everything was in order.

At the moment, he was preparing to make an offering to Thor as thanks for their good fortune on the day of the ambush, and had arranged a humble collection of different gifts for the mighty god.

Inside the basket, he had placed a variety of meat, beer, mead, sweets, and a dagger from his own personal armory. Normally, Eivor wasn’t the type to depend entirely on the gods for safety, but considering recent events, he wanted to secure a strong relationship with them in case a tempest were to strike the village. He had no idea if Kjotve was planning any other attacks in addition to the ambush, and he could think of no one better to appeal to other than the Defender of Midgard. 

He just worried that his offering might not have been sufficient. It was a well-known fact that the thunder god enjoyed things in great quantity, and Eivor didn’t have that much to give at the moment. Ingrida always said that no offering was too small, but even then, the man prayed that his gift wouldn’t be considered measly. Things were precarious enough in Bjornheimr as it was; Eivor did not wish to vex the gods as well.

Working his way up the hill, the Wolf-Kissed spread a layer of cloth over the basket’s opening and held it tightly underneath his arm, careful not to disturb its contents.

He could hear the drinks sloshing inside their bottles to the rhythm of his footsteps, and a handful of scattered clinks reached his ears as they softly bumped into each other. Meanwhile, tiny snowflakes began to gather on the fabric lying above, and sunk into the cloth’s neatly-knit threads. They dotted the surface with jeweled specks of ice and clung onto Eivor’s skin, giving him a slight chill. 

The weather wasn’t exactly ideal for spending any time outside -- the snow seemed to be piling up higher than usual today -- but the young man carried on with his plan nonetheless. 

Reaching the top of the hill, Eivor strolled past the charms decorating the sides of the path, only to stop in his tracks when a nearby pair of voices caught his attention.

Up ahead, Eivor saw Ingrida and Sigurd talking with each other underneath the roof of the temple, just barely avoiding the snow that came blowing their way. The prince wore a wary expression on his face and spoke to the seeress about a matter of deep concern, causing a sense of anxiety to swell in Eivor’s chest.

It was fairly clear to the Wolf-Kissed that his friend spent a lot of energy concealing the many troubles in his life, but the fact that he felt the need to reach out to their völva worried him to a significant degree.

He hadn’t seen Sigurd ever since their conversation in the tavern after all, and he was oblivious to any new issues that may have risen during their time apart. It was unusual to see the prince in such a state, and Eivor had to admit that his curiosity was beginning to get the best of him.

He only hoped that Ulfar wasn’t the source of his perturbed nature. The man made his feelings about Sigurd quite plain back in the tavern, and Eivor had never known him as a person to shy away from confrontation. It was a blessing of a trait in most situations, but a hinderance in this one.

“...You’re certain there’s no other explanation?” Sigurd asked, clearly unhappy with the response he got.

Ingrida crossed her arms, reiterating her point. “I will tell you the same thing I told Eivor. I cannot speak in absolutes, for I do not know the gods’ intentions. I can attempt to decipher the messages they convey, but ultimately, it is impossible to offer anything unambiguous.”

The prince let out a troubled sigh. “I... I see.”

“I realize this must be disturbing news, but look at it this way. At least you are prepared now. You have an inkling of what to expect, and sometimes, a mere suspicion can be enough to save one’s life. Obviously, I do not mean to stoke any paranoia within you, but a little caution would be wise.”

Sigurd nodded, taking the woman’s words to heart. “Of course, but you understand if I say this is difficult for me to accept. I don’t doubt your prediction, seeress, but... I just can’t fathom why anyone would--”

The man came to an abrupt pause, stopping mid-sentence when his eyes fell upon Eivor in the distance.

“--Oh,” he said, his voice still laden with unease, “Eivor. I didn’t see you there.”

Ingrida followed Sigurd’s line of sight, smiling in the Wolf-Kissed’s direction. “Ah, hello, little cub.” She eyed the basket in his hands. “Come to make an offering?”

Eivor hugged the object close to his chest, admittedly growing somewhat weary of bearing its weight.

“Yes, seeress. I hoped to thank Thor for our survival in the forest.”

The woman appeared pleased. “An excellent idea. Go on and present your gift to the gods. I will ensure that nothing disturbs it.” Ingrida brought her eyes back to the prince. “As for you, Sigurd, try not to let this revelation suppress you. You are a man of many responsibilities. Your clan needs you to stay focused.”

“...Of course. You’re right.”

“I’m glad you understand.” Ingrida began making her way back inside the temple, strolling through the arch. “This war is nearly over, but the battle has not ceased. Do not surrender just yet. Either of you.”

Shutting the door behind her, the seeress disappeared behind the temple’s walls and returned to her duties, leaving Eivor and Sigurd alone. Meanwhile, the younger man approached his friend and glanced at him in an inquisitive manner, hoping to calm his nerves somewhat.

“Sigurd?” He asked. “Are you alright? A cloud of unrest hangs over you.”

The prince took a moment to gather his thoughts, not wanting to alarm his companion too much. “I’m... I’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me.” He glanced at the basket in his grasp. “What’ve you got there?”

Eivor lifted the cloth. “Just some food and drink for Thor, and a blade as well. I figured I should bring something of great quantity considering our luck that day. What about you? What brings you to the temple? You looked... frightened when I arrived.”

Sigurd sauntered towards the other man, speaking as he walked. “Nothing of immediate urgency. I’ve just been having these strange dreams lately. Visions.”

“Visions? Really? Of what?”

“A wolf.” He answered. “At first, I merely dismissed the dream as a simple nightmare, but it’s been occurring over and over again. In the same way, and in the same order. So, I came to Ingrida for answers.”

Eivor’s interest was hooked. “Tell me about this wolf. What did it do? What did it look like?”

“The wolf was as white as snow,” Sigurd described. “Its eyes split the darkness with a predatory glare, and its stature challenged that of a fully grown man. Its snout and teeth were stained red with the pigment of fresh blood, and hiding behind its features, I... I could almost... recognize someone.”

“Recognize?” Eivor repeated. “What do you mean? This was a wolf, was it not? How could it resemble a human?”

The prince shrugged. “I have no idea, but... I felt it. There was something familiar about the wolf’s face. It was a sensation that I have no proper words to describe.”

The young man tilted his head towards the temple. “And? What did Ingrida have to say about these visions?”

Sigurd was quiet for a second, hesitant to tell the truth.

“...She believes this vision foretells a betrayal.”

Eivor’s eyes widened in surprise. “A betrayal? At whose hands?”

“She doesn’t know, and neither do I. I have no reason to suspect anyone just yet, but somehow, that almost makes it even worse.”

“How did the seeress come to this conclusion?” Eivor questioned. “What makes her believe betrayal is the only answer?”

“Because she had a similar vision,” Sigurd explained. “Ingrida tells me the gods sent her a dream the night before I arrived. Apparently, she saw a man who looked just like me. He bore the same mark upon his neck, and his eyes glowed with a raging fire. The ground beneath him was soaked in blood dripping from the stump of his own arm, and standing behind him was another white wolf, prowling in the shadows.”

A thought crossed Eivor’s mind. “...I suppose that explains why she called you ‘the one who walks with Tyr.’ It also explains why she was skeptical of you when you first met.”

“I suppose it does,” the prince agreed. “But what connection could I possibly have with Tyr? And why me? What makes me so special?”

Eivor shrugged. “I don’t know. You mentioned you used to have dreams about a kingdom constructed of iron when you were a child. Do you think that could be related?”

“...Perhaps? But I don’t see how it would fit into all this. The kingdom I saw looked nothing like any of the places I’ve ever heard about. Not Helheim, and certainly not Valhalla. It likely originates from a place beyond this realm, but the purpose of its existence continues to elude me.”

Sigurd sighed deeply, resting his hands on his hips. “...Forgive me. I don’t mean to dump all of this onto you. You probably have enough on your shoulders.” He switched to a lighter subject, deciding to put his fears to rest for the time-being. 

“How have you been, Eivor? Is your wound feeling any better? I planned to check on you multiple times, but I fear that my duties always got in the way.”

“No worries. It’s just started to heal. Ingrida says it’s going to leave quite a prominent scar in its absence, but well, it’s better than dying.”

A smirk twinkled on Sigurd’s face. “...I like it.”

“Really?”

“Why not? It gives you character. It makes you look like a warrior.”

Eivor chuckled. “That, or a fool who wasn’t able to handle himself in a fight.”

Sigurd’s smile only brightened. “Nonsense. Each scar you bear is a battle that you survived. Wear it with pride.” He patted his friend on the arm. “But enough about that. I was actually planning to visit you after speaking with the seeress.”

The Wolf-Kissed quirked a brow. “What for?”

“I wanted to take you up on your offer. For fishing. I was down at the docks earlier today, and saw some decent-looking fish roaming in the water. Still in the mood for it?”

Eivor nodded, grinning joyously at the man. “Without a doubt. We can find a boat and take it into the fjord. There are plenty of spots I can show you. Just let me finish my offering for Thor first.”

“Of course. I’ll meet you there when you’re ready. In the meantime, I’ll gather some supplies. See you soon.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

THE DOCKS

Pacing eagerly towards the pier, Eivor strolled excitedly through the village with an unusual spring in his step, smiling to himself as he briskly made his way past all the other buildings.

It had been a while since he last got the chance to spend any time with Sigurd, and he imagined that the two of them would have plenty of catching up to do. Even though they hadn’t bumped into each other for the past few days, Eivor always spotted the prince zipping back and forth around Bjornheimr, tending to his never-ending list of duties.

The man always looked so busy. Eivor was well-aware that a prince’s life wasn’t nearly as laid-back as other people expected, but even Sigurd’s schedule seemed to be overflowing with a ludicrous amount of responsibilities. He hardly had any time to even sit down, and the sockets around his eyes had darkened slightly due to a lack of sleep.

Eivor just hoped Sigurd was okay.

Finally arriving at the docks, the Wolf-Kissed came to a halt and gazed at this surroundings, trying to single out the prince’s head of red hair from the crowd. He eventually located the tall man standing at the edge of the pier with a basket and a pair of fishing rods, but to Eivor’s surprise, he wasn’t alone.

Dag seemed to have also joined the party, in spite of the sour expression plastered on his face. He was conversing with Sigurd in an agitated tone, and his brow had crinkled in a manner that displayed obvious annoyance. Strangely enough though, the prince didn’t appear to mirror his temperament. 

Just what was going on?

“Sigurd!” Eivor called out, causing both of them to turn their heads.

“Ah,” Sigurd replied radiantly, “Eivor. There you are. I was just asking Dag if he wanted to join us. I hope that’s not a problem?”

The younger man would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t somewhat disappointed, but he didn’t have the heard to tell him “no.” He knew Dag was a close friend of Sigurd’s after all, and he didn’t want to interfere. But still... part of him had been looking forward to spending the day with the prince alone.

“No,” Eivor lied, “not at all. He can come if he likes.”

“Great.” Sigurd brought his gaze to Dag. “So, what do you say? Care to go fishing with us?”

To Eivor’s relief, the man refused.

“I appreciate the offer,” Dag said flatly, “but I can’t accept. I have other things to do. You two go on without me.”

“Are you sure?” Sigurd asked, somewhat put off by his friend’s dour mood. “The weather has calmed down since this morning. Now’s the perfect opportunity to take a break. We’ll only be gone for a short while.”

Dag nodded in a dismissive fashion. “Yes, I’m sure. I have many things to take care of, and I’m afraid they cannot wait. Like I said, you two can go without me.”

Sigurd’s eyes dimmed at his friend’s response. “...Well, alright. If you’re certain.”

“I am. Now, if you’ll excuse me...” 

Storming off like a pouty toddler, Dag practically stomped away from the scene and swiftly made himself scarce, leaving Sigurd and Eivor with an uncomfortable silence. The two of them watched in confusion as the man disappeared in the distance, and not too longer after he vanished, they exchanged glances with each other, bewildered by what just happened.

“What was that about?” Eivor asked. “Is something wrong with Dag?”

Sigurd sighed in frustration, reaching down to grab the basket. “You know what? I’ve been asking myself the same thing. Dag’s been acting this way ever since the feast, and I don’t know why. This kind of behavior is unusual for him.”

“Have you talked to him?”

The older man lifted the basket onto his shoulder, walking towards the end of the pier as Eivor followed him from behind.

“Not yet, no. And even if I did, I’m not sure he would give me a straight answer. Dag’s never been the type to open up so easily. I’m just wondering if it’s because of something I did.”

His friend was quiet for a moment. “Does Dag always behave like this?”

Sigurd shook his head. “No, actually. He’s still the same man I know most of the time, but... recently, he’s been going through these random bouts of anger. And they’re always directed at me.”

The prince placed the basket down on a boat waiting beside the pier, carefully stepping onto it as it gently bobbed up and down with the water’s movement.

“I just wish he would talk to me. Dag is a dear friend of mine, and I don’t want anything to be wedged between us. Especially not after hearing Ingrida’s prediction.”

Eivor gave him a sympathetic look. “Try not to let it worry you. I’m sure Dag’s just stressed out from the constant battling with Kjotve. I know we all are. He’ll open up to you when he’s ready.”

Sigurd let out a breath. “...I hope so. I have enough on my plate at the moment. I don’t have time to be running around in circles with Dag. The sooner he opens up, the better.” 

He suddenly glanced up at his companion, deciding to leave the subject alone. “But push that aside. You came here to fish, not to listen to my life problems. Are you ready to go?”

The younger man stepped off the dock and took a seat across from Sigurd, excited for the ride ahead.

“Ready when you are.”

“Wonderful. Thank you for coming with me, by the way, Eivor. I apologize if I seem more stern than usual. I fear that this past week taken a toll on me.”

Eivor took no offense. “There’s no need to apologize. We’re all going through a lot. It’s only normal. Just try to forget about it for now.”

“I’m glad you understand. You seem to be the only one these days. But... you’re right. Today is a day meant for relaxing. Let us not spoil it. Come on, why don’t you show me those fishing spots you mentioned? I’m eager to see them.”

The Wolf-Kissed grabbed the oar and smirked at Sigurd, pushing their boat away from the pier. “As you command, my prince.”

~~~~~~~~~~

BJORNHEIMR, THE FJORD

Venturing deep into the fjord’s divine embrace, Sigurd and Eivor traversed across the water’s glassy surface, steadily gliding along with its rippled waves. They made sure not to put too much distance between them and the village as they did with the waterfall, but even then, the sheer size of the fjord was enough to make them feel as if they had stepped into another world.

All around them, mountains extended into the sky for what seemed like miles, and appeared to kiss the base of the clouds. Their peaks were frosted with fresh snow that floated down from the heavens, and their base remained concealed beneath the ocean, forming a basin fit for the gods themselves.

Meanwhile, a thin curtain of fog draped itself over the mountains’ rugged forms and obscured the landscape waiting ahead, encompassing the world in a layer of mist that stood as a barrier between the two men and the secular village they left behind.

It was the perfect place to clear one’s thoughts, and Eivor could see that Sigurd was already beginning to unwind. The disquieted expression that once hung on his face had vanished, and at the moment, he was currently sitting peacefully on the boat, watching contently as fish poked their fins out from the water’s surface. 

They were completely alone out here, and Eivor wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“So,” the younger man said, “what’ve you been doing these past few days? I haven’t had the chance to talk with you in a while.”

“Oh, nothing too exciting,” Sigurd answered, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve joined your father and Ulfar at the war table quite a few times now, and I’ve also been getting to know Randvi more. It’s difficult to juggle between the two, but things have been going according to plan so far.”

Eivor threw a puzzled look at him. “What about your father? Does he not take part in your conversations in the war room?”

The other man hesitated for a second. “Oh, h-he does, but... well, he’s been occupied lately. Sometimes I take his place.”

Eivor couldn’t deny that he found the response a bit odd, but he decided not to pry any further. “I see. And what about Ulfar? I hope he hasn’t given you any trouble.”

It was Sigurd’s turn to be confused now. “Ulfar? No, none at all. Why would he?”

The Wolf-Kissed sighed sheepishly, unsure of how to explain. He assumed Ulfar would have already expressed his concerns to the prince about his ability to be a leader, but evidently, he was wrong. 

“I, well... I suppose there’s no harm in letting you know. The day you and I went to the tavern, Ulfar stayed for a drink after you left. Initially, he was in a rather foul mood, and it was directed at you. He said you almost got me killed in the forest.”

A look of guilt spread across Sigurd’s face. “...Ah, I see.”

“I spoke with him, though,” Eivor reassured. “I convinced Ulfar it wasn’t your fault, and he told me he’d withhold any further judgement for now. That’s why I asked if he had given you any trouble. I was curious to know if he still harbored these doubts. But don’t let it bother you. Whatever Ulfar does, it’s only to keep me and my siblings safe.”

Sigurd shook his head in disagreement. “No, he’s right. I should’ve been more careful that day. I made a foolish decision, and you nearly paid the price. It’s a good thing you’re a skilled warrior. Otherwise, I’d probably be responsible for your death by now.”

Eivor’s expression sank with pity. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault what happened in the woods that day. You could’ve run off at the first sign of danger, but instead, you risked your life to save me. And everyone knows it. Even Ingrida.”

“Well, I may not be at fault,” the man conceded, “but I was ill-prepared for such an ordeal. If I’m going to be king someday, I need to be able to protect people. That includes you.” Sigurd shifted his position slightly, sitting more upright. “I promise, Eivor, I won’t endanger you like that again.”

The young man grinned. “I appreciate it, but we’re in the midst of a war. I’m afraid we don’t have much choice. Anything can happen at any time.”

“True, but I’ll still do everything I can to keep you and your people safe.” Sigurd displayed a small smile. “Death may be inevitable, but that’s no reason to let it take us so willingly. That’s why we have shields.”

Eivor chuckled. “I suppose you’re right.”

The two of them trailed off into silence briefly, only for the prince to bring up another topic.

“Hey, speaking of Ulfar, did you hear his report?”

“No.” Eivor said.

“Well, apparently, he and his men found two camps in the woods not too far from where we were attacked. They both belonged to Kjotve.”

“Really? How many men were there?”

Sigurd conjured a rough estimation. “About ten each.”

“Ten?” The Wolf-Kissed repeated in alarm. “That’s nearly two dozen in total. That’s enough men to carry out a small raid.”

“Indeed. We’re lucky Ulfar was able to drive them out before their numbers grew anymore. Thankfully though, he didn’t uncover any plans to attack Bjornheimr. He believes these particular men were just scouts sent here to keep an eye on the village and send information back to Kjotve. Our encounter with them wasn’t coordinated. A few of his people simply decided to take matters into their own hands.”

Eivor found some comfort in that. “Well, that’s a relief, at least. Still, I wonder how Kjotve will respond to this.”

Sigurd raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“If these men were sending regular reports to Kjotve, he’s going to realize something’s wrong when they come to a sudden stop. He might even send reinforcements.”

The older man couldn’t help but admit he had a point. “Hmm. That does sound likely. I’ll have to warn your father and Ulfar about the possibility of retaliation. We may be preparing for a wedding, but Freya knows that won’t stop Kjotve from spilling blood.”

A shiver traveled down Eivor’s spine. “What if... what if he comes to Bjornheimr? What do you think we’ll do?”

The answer seemed fairly clear to Sigurd. “We’ll fight, of course. What else?”

“No, no,” his friend corrected, “I didn’t quite mean it like that. I just...” Eivor gazed down at his father’s axe, tracing a hand down its grip, “...I’ve spent so many years thinking about how I would take my revenge on Kjotve; for what he did to my parents. I’ve convinced myself that I’d slit his throat without a second thought, but... if he actually shows up, I don’t know if it’ll be that easy. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

A sense of empathy softened Sigurd’s eyes. “It won’t be easy. But whatever happens, make sure you fight for what matters. Ideally, Kjotve will never set foot on your shores, but if he does, fight not for revenge. Fight for the honor your father lost. Only then can you know true peace.”

Eivor stared aimlessly at the water surrounding them, trying to block out the memories of that horrible night. “...I’ll try. Even if it kills me.”

The younger man watched the soothing rhythm of the waves dancing around them and fell into a deep train of thought, only to be pulled out again when Sigurd’s voice reached his ears.

“Hey,” he said gently, leaning closer to his companion, “are you alright, Eivor?”

The Wolf-Kissed blinked a few times, still somewhat lost in his own past. “Yes. I’m fine. It’s just... difficult to think about, you know. My parents were killed over a decade ago, and yet, their words from that night remain fresh in my head. It’s hard to ignore them sometimes.”

“Of course,” Sigurd replied. “I understand.”

“Anyway,” Eivor said, not wishing to dwell on the grim subject any longer, “you mentioned you’ve been seeing Randvi more earlier. How are things going between the two of you?”

“We still don’t know each other that well,” Sigurd confessed, “but she strikes me as a kind woman; an honorable one. I think we can make this marriage work. Although, I must admit... it’s bizarre to think about how she’ll be my wife in only a week from now. The future felt so far away when I first got here, and yet, these past seven days have fleeted by within a heartbeat. It just makes me wonder how fast the wedding will arrive.”

Eivor caught onto his tone. “Are you nervous?”

“Yes, and so is Randvi. But I think we’re both slowly coming to terms with it.” A glint of curiosity formed in the prince’s gaze. “What about you, Eivor? Have you ever considered marriage?”

The man laughed. “Me? No, not really. I’ve had partners in the past, but... nothing serious. It’s difficult to imagine someone marrying me, if I’m being honest.”

Sigurd scoffed. “Psh. Nonsense. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their spouse.”

“You think?”

The older man shrugged. “Why not? You’re compassionate, humorous, handsome, and--” Sigurd suddenly froze in shock, utterly embarrassed by his own words.

Meanwhile, Eivor simply gave him an appreciative smirk, undeniably amused by his slip-up.

“You consider me handsome, do you?” He teased.

Sigurd stammered bashfully and brought a hand to the back of his neck, barely able to hold eye contact with the Wolf-Kissed anymore. “Gods above... erm, f-forgive me, Eivor. I... I didn’t mean to--”

“--It’s alright.” He interrupted. “The truth is, I think you’re handsome too.”

The prince paused at Eivor’s remark, calming down somewhat. “You... do?”

Eivor chuckled, leaning forward in his seat. “Yes, you fool. Who wouldn’t? You’re strong, kind, caring, and you...” the young man caught himself before he could say anything else and stopped mid-sentence, abruptly retreating from his comments as Sigurd watched him quietly.

“...No,” Eivor said, his tone much more sullen now. “I can’t do this.”

Sigurd found himself growing concerned. “What’s wrong?”

The other man sighed in despondency, looking shamefully away from his friend. Eivor assured Ingrida that he wouldn’t allow his emotions to interfere with the upcoming wedding, and yet, he had barely been able to stop himself just now.

His thoughts slipped free from his lips as if they carried a mind of their own, and if it weren’t for the fact that everyone’s safety was depending on this alliance, Eivor had no idea how far he truly would’ve gotten. 

His ability to restrain his desires was already being crippled just after a week of knowing Sigurd, and the looming reality of his feelings was enough to send Eivor into a state of panic and loneliness. 

These next few days were going to be nothing but absolute turmoil for him, and sooner or later, he’d have to accept it. He just didn’t know how.

“Sigurd...” Eivor whispered sorrowfully, “...can I be honest with you?”

The older man nodded. “Of course. What’s going on?”

The Wolf-Kissed looked him directly in the eye, taking a deep breath. “...The truth is, ever since we met at that feast, I’ve been infatuated with you.”

Sigurd’s brow furrowed in shock. “...You have?”

“Yes. Whenever we’re apart, I’m always thinking about when I’ll see you next, or how you’re doing. I care about you, and I worry about your well-being despite being no more than an acquaintance.”

The prince knotted his hands together in thought. “And what about when you’re with me?”

Eivor showed a faint smile to him, but its facade was quickly betrayed by the pain in his gaze. “I feel at peace. I feel like nothing in the world can touch us. I feel a certain way that I’ve never felt before with anyone else, and it... it frightens me sometimes.”

The young man continued. “But I can’t allow these feelings to develop any further. No matter how persistent they may be. We’re both bound by our duties, and yours is to secure an alliance with my clan. The only thing I can provide for you is a distraction that you can’t afford.” Eivor slunk back to his end of the boat, hiding inside the shell that he constantly wore. “...I’m sorry, Sigurd. But our relationship can’t go beyond this.”

Sigurd offered nothing other than silence in return and simply delved into his own thoughts, gazing downwards in a desolate manner. It was clear that he mirrored the same affections that Eivor expressed, but he felt even more reluctant to share them now that he knew about the other man’s views.

It was the burden of being a prince, he supposed. Everyone always told Sigurd that his choices were his own, and yet, he was being forced to repress something that others would’ve been more than happy to admit. His life had been nothing more than one big preparation to rule the kingdom someday, but he felt as if he hardly had any control over his own life.

Still, Sigurd knew Eivor was right, and he knew he couldn’t afford to deviate from the path set out in front of him. The war with Kjotve was much bigger than either of them, and everyone’s safety was depending on this alliance.

“I... understand, Eivor.” He said quietly.

The younger man hung his head low, unable to ignore the guilt settling into his mind. “I’m sorry it has to be like this, Sigurd.”

“Don’t be. What you’re doing is noble. Not everyone would have your restraint.”

Eivor’s mood barely lightened at that. “It doesn’t feel noble. But I know it’s necessary.”

Sigurd nodded solemnly, unsure of what to say anymore. “...Indeed.”

Having had enough of this place, the older man took hold of the oar and stuck it into the water, eager to return to solid land.

“We should starting heading back.” He said abruptly, earning a tilt of the head from Eivor.

“Already? Are you sure? We haven’t even been out for that long.”

“I know, but I fear that my free time is rather limited today. An abundance of tasks awaits me in Bjornheimr, and I’m almost certain that my father will require my presence as well.”

Eivor peered at Sigurd with concern, clearly able to see that he had been affected by their conversation.

“Okay.” He agreed tentatively. “If you’re sure.”

“I am. Come on, I’ll row you back to the village. Just sit back and relax.”

Guiding their boat away from the fjord, Sigurd steadily drove them back to the shoreline without uttering another word as Eivor sat quietly on his side, admittedly feeling somewhat remorseful for having dimmed the mood.

Initially, he had been excited to spend more time with the forlorn prince, but now, he wondered if he had made a mistake. It was no question that a special type of bond connected the two of them, and Eivor mentally scolded himself for allowing it to strengthen even further.

At this point, part of him was considering the idea of severing their relationship. It was difficult enough battling the constant temptation that he felt whenever he was with Sigurd, so Eivor thought that, perhaps, it might’ve been best if he simply eliminated the chance for it to show up again.

There would be no need to practice restraint if the prince avoided him altogether. They would be complete strangers just like before, and Eivor wouldn’t have to worry about clashing with his desires on a daily basis.

But... he knew he wouldn’t be able to do such a thing. He cared about Sigurd too much, despite only having known him for a week. That man housed something special within his heart, and the last thing Eivor wanted was to cast it aside.

Still, he didn’t know how he would proceed from here. Sigurd was aware of his admiration now, and any interactions between them would’ve bred nothing but awkwardness.

They both needed some time to get their thoughts in order, and frankly, Eivor was starting to feel grateful that the other man decided to make such a swift exit. He needed to be alone for a while, and it was evident that Sigurd also had plenty to think about himself.

It was one of those moments where Eivor felt the urge to seek out guidance, and he knew exactly who to get it from. 

He just worried that they would tell him precisely what he didn’t want to hear.

~~~~~~~~~~

BJORNHEIMR, THE DOCKS

“Here we are.” Sigurd announced, letting the boat drift towards the pier as he gazed into the distance. “...And it looks like Dag is waiting for me. Just like I expected.”

Eivor stood up from his seat. “What does he want from you?”

His friend put down the oar and climbed back onto the docks, taking their supplies with him. “Nothing. It’s my father who probably wants something. Dag is merely the messenger. I just hope it’s not what I think it is.”

Walking briskly ahead of the other man, Sigurd strode down the wooden pier and made a beeline straight for Dag as Eivor hurried to his side, abandoning the boat. 

A newfound irritation had worked its way into the prince’s usually serene demeanor, and the Wolf-Kissed wondered if he’d finally learn the reason behind Styrbjorn’s aforementioned absence at the war table.

“Dag,” the redhead called out in a firm tone. “What are you doing here?”

The bulky warrior removed himself from the tree he had been leaning on and approached Sigurd, appearing no more pleased than before.

“The king requests your presence at the longhouse.” He informed. “There’s a problem he needs your help with.”

Sigurd sighed in defeat, plopping the basket down in frustration. “Of course he does. Is it the same ‘problem’ as yesterday?”

Dag nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

The prince shook his head angrily. “That drink-addled fool...! He promised me this wouldn’t be an issue. What is he doing now?”

“He’s waiting for you in his chambers. Same as always. I suggest you hurry. He’s in a worse state than usual.”

Sigurd’s face stiffened with ire. “And it’s no one else’s fault but his. What is that man thinking?” He paused for a second, recomposing himself. “...Thank you for letting me know, Dag. Hopefully, we’ll never have to have this conversation again.”

The raider began strolling away from them, pessimistic about the idea. “Hopefully, but not likely.”

Removing himself from the scene, Dag disappeared once again while Eivor took his place, confused as to what just happened. It was quite obvious to him that Styrbjorn seemed to be at the core of this issue, but he hadn’t the faintest idea what the issue was exactly.

“What’s going on?” Eivor asked. “Is your father safe? Do you need any help?”

Sigurd quickly rejected the offer. “No, no. He’ll be fine. He’s just being an idiot. It’s best if I deal with this alone. Believe me.”

The younger man’s curiosity remained fervent, but he decided not to press anymore. The prince was evidently in a state of heightened exasperation at the moment, and Eivor suspected that any further questions would’ve only earned him more animosity.

“...Alright. If you say so. But don’t hesitate to ask for my aid if you need it.”

“Thank you, Eivor. I appreciate it.”

Forcing himself to relax, Sigurd rubbed his temple out of stress and turned to face Eivor, softening the jagged edge of his voice.

“Forgive me. I don’t mean to be so irate, but things are chaotic enough as it is, and my father is only making things worse. He’s ignoring all of his responsibilities, and piling them on my shoulders instead. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t affecting me.”

Something clicked in Eivor’s head. “So that’s why you’ve been so busy.”

“Yes. That, and a few other things. But those matters are irrelevant right now. The only important thing I have to say is... thank you. For taking the time to come with me today.”

“Of course, Sigurd. You need only ask.”

The older man beamed warmly. “...You truly are a blessing. You know that, Eivor? I genuinely believe you’re the only person I can fully rely on. You’re a man worthy of trust.” He placed his hands on his hips, returning to his usual temperament. “But I’ve idled for long enough. My father’s probably wondering where I am. Feel free to take all the fish we caught. You deserve it for putting up with me today.”

Eivor took the basket in hand, waving goodbye to Sigurd. “Farewell for now, my friend. Take care of yourself. And remember, I’m here if you need me.”

The prince started heading in the direction of the longhouse, returning the wave with one of his own. 

“The same goes to you. I may be busy, but my door’s always open, Wolf-Kissed. I only pray that our next meeting will be under better circumstances. Until then, stay safe. We all need you.”

[megashadowdragon]

What Noctis Learned: a tl;dr essay

So I've been thinking about this for a while and seeing so many posts/articles/character analysis on this game has finally prompted me to put it down in words. This is going to be a giant spoiler for the whole game so if you haven't finished it or Episode Ardyn yet then do that before reading this.

Everybody good? Okay.

I've heard lots of people look at FFXV as a coming of age story, with the main character changing and growing from a somewhat lackluster teenager to a responsible adult and in some respects that's absolutely right. It is a story about Noctis' growth from a reluctant and poor leader into a Kingly King like his dad (get it? Regis? Kingly King?). But then people usually follow that up with stating that Noctis started out as a selfish guy who didn't appreciate his friends thought he was too good for them and....wha? Were we playing the same game? Were we watching the same story?

Noctis has always appreciated his friends. Noctis has never thought he was better than them. That was never his issue. In fact, the issue is somewhat the opposite problem. Here me out:

The lesson Noctis needed to learn was about sacrifice. Not just self-sacrifice, although that's certainly part of it. But the heavy burden of sacrifice that only Rulers experience. He needed to learn how to sacrifice others or let them sacrifice themselves for the greater good. The theme was laced throughout the game from the beginning.

Everyone sees Regis as a great King. What makes him so great, though? Well, he knows how and when to sacrifice, not only himself but others for the sake of the future. He takes on the burden of knowing that people are dying for him, and for his kingdom. The Crystal is just a big old reminder of that burden, and so is the Wall, a physical representation of what it means to sacrifice.

Everything outside the Wall has been sacrificed to the enemy so that everything within the Wall may have peace. And then when it's revealed that Regis must sacrifice his only son in order to save the world, he accepts that burden too. He also accepts than in order to let his son realize his destiny, all of Insomnia must be sacrificed.

When Noctis rages at Cor in the tomb, it's because he doesn't agree with his father's sacrifice, both of himself and Insomnia, in order to save Noctis. He doesn't accept that noble burden. He rejects it and is plainly not ready to take his rightful place as ruler. He sees that a bunch of people just died for him, including his family members, and he doesn't think he was worth that sacrifice at all.

When Gladio demands to know before the fight with Titan if Noctis is "of Royal blood or not" it's because he feels the weight of his own father's sacrifice and needs Noctis to understand that he is ready and willing to do the same. If you'll note in the scene, this happens after Noctis has recklessly tried to dart ahead of Gladio and prevent him from doing his job (i.e. shielding and sacrificing his own body for the King) and he wants it reaffirmed in Noct's mind to accept that duty. To accept that yes, he might actually need Gladio to die for him and since Gladio's going to that extent he needs to know that Noctis will actually be worthy of that sacrifice and continue on to fulfill his destiny.

Luna's sacrifice in Altissia, followed by Ignis' blinding and then his moment of doubt where he actually asks Noctis to halt their journey basically represents the lowest point for Noctis, where all his fears seem justified. Noctis fears that he's actually not special or "chosen" at all, he can't save everyone, he couldn't even save the one person he thought he was meant to save, and now Ignis who already sacrificed his eyesight for him is voicing out loud his fear that all this sacrifice might be too high a cost.

So Noctis falters. He doesn't put on the ring. He doesn't head for the Crystal right away. And Gladio becomes upset, not because he thinks Noctis doesn't care about Ignis, but because him not pushing on despite the sacrifice kind of renders it pointless. And Gladio doesn't know that Ignis himself kind of tipped the scales on Noctis' reluctance to sacrifice others for the good of the kingdom here.

Then Prompto gets yeeted off the train, Gralea happens and the sacrifice of Noctis' last real link to his dad, the Regalia. And Noctis has to go it on his own, using the ring's power to survive, and here's where people like to say that being without his friends makes Noctis appreciate them. But I think being without his friends actually makes Noctis realize that he HAS to continue on without them, that his destiny still needs to happen with or without his friends and family surviving to see it. He's starting to accept the true burden of being a leader.

The scenario before he enters the Crystal has him needing to choose between fighting with his friends or possibly leaving them to die in order to fulfill his Calling. Ardyn taunts him with this choice, calling him selfish for abandoning his friends.

Ardyn himself never learned the lesson of sacrifice, which started the entire problem in the first place. As a healer, he refused to accept the deaths of others, and thus kept taking more and more Scourge into himself rather then letting a single person be sacrificed, even to the point where it would damage the future envisioned by the Gods. While we're obviously supposed to regard Somnus as the other end of the extreme; sacrificing people pointlessly for his own gain, I don't think we are supposed to view Ardyn's refusal to sacrifice anyone as a good alternative either. A good leader is supposed to know when and how much to sacrifice for the good of the nation, so when the Crystal rejects Ardyn it's because he hasn't learned how to sacrifice.

So we get to the timeskip, Noctis baked in the Crystal and now he's all done and ready to accept the true burden of being King. No turning back, no preventing his bros from sacrificing their own lives for the effort, no changing his mind about whether it's "worth it" or not. Noctis finally learned the burden of sacrificing for the future, one that he won't get to be a part of.

Originally, the Lucis Caelum line was meant to be a sect that worships Etro, Goddess of Death. Some remnants of the story still show this, what with the Ring of the Lucii requiring blood sacrifice or at least a sacrifice of lifeforce in order to gain its power, the theme of skulls and the significance of the colour black for the royal family.

All this long rambling is meant to say is that FFXV is a story about the main character learning how to accept the burden of noble sacrifice and not really about a lazy slacker learning how to stop whining and appreciate his friends.

source: www . reddit . com/r/FFXV/comments/ol3te6/spoilers_for_the_entire_game_what_noctis_learned/

comments :

Noctis's lesson is also exemplified when he has to encourage his own dad to deal the final blow that sends him to the void. It mirrors Noct's own reluctance, and the choice to push onward anyway, when the sacrifice feels too great to bear. It solidifies the fact that he deserves his seat on the throne.

I agree overall, though I'm also inclined to think that sacrifice itself is intended to throw value judgments into the starkest possible relief by demanding the loss of a lesser good for the sake of a greater good.

Regis makes the astoundingly vast sacrifices that he does because the salvation offered by the Chosen King is the greatest available good. And it takes Noct a long time to understand that because his value judgments are off -- he can't bear being responsible for the loss of an individual even if the alternative is the loss of every individual.

And yes, I think that Noct's choice to let his friends hold off the daemons while he went ahead to reach the Crystal is the point where he truly understands what's required of him... and that it is a very effective reflection of the difference between the point he had finally reached and Ardyn's continuing rejection of that dynamic.

One interesting thing about Ardyn is that he is willing to sacrifice others for his plans, but his value judgments are still really wonky. He went from valuing individual persons to such an extent that he risked being completely ineffective to valuing nothing but himself and his own desire for revenge. Somnus' value judgments are wonky, too, of course, because he over-values his own ambition.

As for the ultimate conclusion of Noct's growth, he develops a quiet confidence in his value judgments that allows him to take risks and accept sacrifice without second thoughts. ("A king pushes onward always, accepting the consequences and never looking back.") Just before he ascends the throne, his friends have to stay behind to cover for him again... and he doesn't think twice about allowing them to fulfill their duty by doing so. Then he willingly endures an agonizing self-sacrifice knowing that doing so will bring about the much greater good of the world's salvation.

[huxandthehound]

Why Levi is Still Going to Kill Zeke and Why it Matters

Levi is going to kill Zeke.

You can’t change my mind.

I’ve seen and heard a lot of stuff going around recently. None of it has been rude or angry, just lots of people writing off Levi’s role in the story going forward. And I can understand that to some degree. The series is quickly coming to a close and we’re in the endgame now. (Sorry, I had to.) Levi has been sidelined for over a year. Zeke is absolutely no longer the Big Bad. But none of this means we can throw away a character’s entire motivation because we hear the orchestra warming up to play everyone off the stage.

We haven’t seen Zeke in eight chapters. We haven’t seen Levi do much of anything since getting blown up in chapter 114. Their relevance to the story is seemingly diminishing month by month. Zeke has been, presumably, lying in a pile of rubble or (insert your favorite theory here), and Levi has been getting hauled around Paradis like a small child on a family road trip. Neither of them has done anything remotely relevant, at least in regards to the current state of things with Eren, in a very long time. However, there is one thing Levi has done since then. And he’s done it multiple times: reiterate how much he wants to kill Zeke.

THE PROMISE

The entire reason we’re talking about this is because of something that happened way back in chapter 80. In a grand gesture amongst the chaos and devastation Zeke himself was raining down on them, Levi knelt before Erwin and lifted the weight of his dream from his shoulders. And simultaneously vowed to kill the Beast Titan.

Now, Levi never explicitly swears to Erwin. He never really uses the words “promise” or “vow.” But Levi knew the intent behind his actions, even if his words didn’t convey it, and that kneeling implied his solemnity and dedication to his goal and the commander. And within just a few hours, perhaps less, he reiterates the intent behind his words: “I swore to him that I’d kill you no matter what.”

Interesting choice of words.

I think the “no matter what” is an important addition. This is clearly something he’s added on his own. Unless we’re missing parts of his speech to Erwin, he doesn’t say this, but he clearly thinks it’s implied and is going to hold himself to it.

This is the point where Levi fees the brunt of his words to Erwin. This is the turning point for him, the point of no return, where he begins to feel the effects of his promise that will reverberate well into the future.

Levi does not seem like the type of person to make a promise lightly. He never minces his words or says anything he doesn’t mean. That’s just not who he is. We know this. And not only did he make a promise, he’s recalled it multiple times over the years, reminded himself over and over again of his last words to Erwin. They meant something. They weren’t some hollow promise, some death bed appeasement. Levi fully intends to carry through with it. No matter what.

THE FLASHBACK

After chaperoning a presumably very annoying Zeke at their secure location in the forest for about a month, Levi gets an update regarding the goings on at headquarters. He is not pleased with what he hears, and decides on his own to change the plans and, in the process, kill Zeke.

It doesn’t take long for Levi to make this decision, perhaps because the thought of not only killing Zeke but simultaneously maintaining the power of the Beast Titan is too hard to pass up. Perhaps it’s because the plan would ultimately result in Zeke’s death that helps him come to the conclusion so quickly. I also presume the thought has crossed his mind innumerable times during his stay with Zeke, and he just needed a little encouragement.

Then, he recalls in depressingly accurate detail the vow he made to Erwin, four years later. It’s so knee jerk. It happens so quickly and seamlessly, like Levi has been haunted by this for years, that he’s always had this nagging thought in the back of his mind subconsciously affecting his decision making.

“Erwin, It looks like I’ll finally be able to fulfill the vow I made to you that day.”

The fact that Levi sees the scene from an outside perspective, and not the images of Erwin’s face from below as Levi has recalled before, I believe is important to his memory. It’s not just his words that meant something that day. His words, actually, weren’t the binding part. The fact that he bent the knee to Erwin is what signifies his commitment, and he is reminding himself of his actions that day.

He also says “finally.” These are the words of a man who has thought about this moment for a very long time. I can sense the relief Levi must be feeling when he says this. This thing that he’s wanted so badly to do but has been putting off because of a sense of duty. This is Levi’s “fuck it” moment, when he decides he’s just going to bend the rules a bit, still play along, and get what he wants.

I have a feeling Levi is also recalling the last time he was closest to killing Zeke: in Liberio. It would have been so easy to slice a little too deep or misplace his explosives. The look on Levi’s face in chapter 103 certainly leads me to believe he perhaps tried a little harder than was necessary. Zeke even calls him out on it in the air ship. Levi wasn’t acting. Their battle as a whole might have been a farce, but Levi was taking his frustrations out on Zeke and going through the motions, only to stop just short of his goal.

“Finally,” Levi thinks. This time he’s got a plan that he can see through to the end. No more faking it. No more holding back.

His vow has also seemed to become a little clearer, at least to himself, over the years. Back in Shiganshina, Levi was livid. He’s had time to more fully grasp what his vow truly means, what it stands for. He promised Erwin he would kill the Beast Titan, and while I’m sure most of his hatred is because Zeke killed Erwin specifically, Levi also recalls his other fallen comrades. The ones that died to get them to this point, the soldiers whose deaths Zeke is directly responsible for. And then, as if he didn’t have reason enough to go after Zeke, within just minutes of this flashback, Levi is forced to end the lives of thirty of his comrades.

Another nail in Zeke’s—hopefully literal—coffin.

IN HIS OWN WORDS

Levi knows what he needs to do for his people and the greater good of humanity, and as such, he can’t allow himself to follow through with his promise just yet. He’s waiting—not patiently, but he is waiting—for the perfect moment, one that aligns with his desires and Paradis’ needs. And he’s not hiding it from Zeke.

It’s almost become a running, unfunny joke at this point, for both Zeke and the audience. (I feel like Levi is not as appreciative of these instances as we might be.)

It all starts in chapter 81 when Levi is essentially speaking directly to Zeke after he gets scooped up by the Cart Titan. “I swore to him that I’d kill you no matter what.” He’s telling Zeke. Whether Zeke can hear him as he gets carried away is one thing, but this is ground zero for Levi telling Zeke exactly what he’s going to do to him.

Chronologically, our next on screen instance—though I’m sure there are more we are never shown—is in chapter 105. Zeke is the one to bring it up this time. It’s unclear where he’s gotten this information from, but he knows Levi is still hell-bent on killing him, especially based on what Zeke considers to have been a convincing display in Liberio. Levi ends that conversation with one of my favorite taunts, which I’m going to delve into shortly.

Then, at the tail end of chapter 106 and to help close out the volume, we have a little snippet from what I’m sure was a terribly uncomfortable carriage ride with Levi and Zeke. Levi deflects the conversation away from the supposed victory in Liberio to tell Zeke that he’s going to “kill [him], send [his] corpse to Marley, and reveal everything about [his] plot.” Subtlety has never been Levi’s strong suit. He ends it by telling Zeke, “I wouldn’t mind waiting a little longer before slicing you to pieces.” Levi is more than aware that there is a certain order this all needs to happen in, but no matter how long he has to wait, it will not make him lose sight of his end goal.

THE EVIDENCE

Levi has shown us time after time that he has never given up on his promise. That he will stop at nothing to fulfill it. That he will go so far as to defy direct orders to achieve his goals. Everything is telling us that it’s actually going to happen.

Levi’s first move in twelve chapters, after he wakes up from getting knocked out by the thunder spear, is to promptly call Zeke a “piece of shit” and ask where he is. Keep in mind this is after hearing Eren’s apocalyptic broadcast, and Levi’s focus is still on Zeke. True, Hange and Levi are a bit out of the loop at this point in regards to Zeke’s involvement in Eren’s plan. But the point still stands. Levi is hyper focused on his enemy from the moment he wakes up.

Then, as if it weren’t clear enough, Levi says it again, more plainly, to Magath and Pieck the following day: “My goal is to kill Zeke.” Levi’s motives and goals are not up for interpretation, and he’s not just saying this to appease them either. Magath has his sights on Levi, quite literally, and Levi couldn’t care less. He’s blunt and to the point, as always. He also takes personal ownership of the goal. I think at this point he is slowly starting to come to the realization that he is going to follow through with this no matter what anyone else says. He doesn’t have orders to kill Zeke on sight. He definitely doesn’t have orders to transfer the Beast Titan. But his goal, his mission at this exact moment, is to kill Zeke. And if he has to team up with people to get shit done, he’ll do it. But he’s not hiding his intentions, and I doubt he would even if their goals didn’t align.

Since all of these events, it’s only been a few days, and nothing is going to change Levi’s mind in that short period of time. He’s held onto this promise—this vow to a dead man—for years. I’m not under the impression that Levi is going to suddenly change his mind because of a few new developments and one very cryptic line from a tall blonde woman that I’m pretty sure he hates.  

One thing that Levi says that has always stuck out to me is his eagerness to clarify to Zeke when he plans on killing him: “Not yet.” I know this could be Levi just further emphasizing his ultimate goal (kind of a “don’t mistake my kindness for weakness” sort of thing), but I can’t help but feel like it’s also a nod to the audience. Levi doesn't need to tell Zeke he won’t kill him yet; he knows that. Zeke knows Levi can’t kill him yet, not in the middle of the forest for no good reason without having a titan nearby. The “not yet” seems a little too heavy handed to me, and for that reason I like to cling onto it for dear life.

Additionally there are a few context clues, if you will, that lead me to believe we’re getting set up for the ultimate showdown between Zeke and Levi.

One of my favorite lines from Levi is when he tells Zeke, “I like to save the best parts of my meal for last.” (Levi used taunt; it was super effective.) That line is peak Levi and just everything I want and expect out of any of his interactions with Zeke. I think it might be a little deeper than that though. My interpretation, from a literary perspective, is that this is foreshadowing disguised as snark. I would not be surprised if this is insinuating that perhaps the very last thing Levi will do in this story is kill Zeke. That he’ll kill Zeke or die trying.

I also think that this being one of the last things Levi does would allow him to appreciate his accomplishment. To “savor the taste,” so to speak. I’m not sure what Levi really has to live for if they all come out of this on the other side. We don’t get a lot of insight into his life over these last four years, but I’m willing to bet he feels a little aimless. Killing Zeke would be one of the last things that Levi really feels needs to be done, one last regret to eliminate before he dies. I believe once he’s done that, he’ll be able to move on, and he might be able to rest. I unfortunately don’t see any future for Levi post-war that includes him having closure or relaxing or anything of the sort. This may be his only way out.

If you want to look a little deeper, past Levi’s bluntness, the “no matter what” Levi throws in back in chapter 81 is another thing that piques my interest. Lots of people have pointed out that Levi has also said he’d be the one to kill Eren if he gets out of line (chapter 18). Clearly those parameters have been met. But what happens when Levi’s duty, in a sense, is overshadowed by this promise? The moment Levi said that he’d kill Zeke no matter what, he voided every other task he ever signed up for. I think this is no exception. Is Eren about to kill a bunch of people? Probably. Should Levi be more concerned with Eren at this point than Zeke? Definitely.

I don’t disagree that Levi does seem pretty single minded at this point in the story. But I’m finding it hard to blame him or say it’s a “bad” thing to have happen to him. While fulfilling this promise has become somewhat of an obsession for him, he’s always maintained his professionalism and focus on saving humanity first. He was able to control himself in Shiganshina, in Liberio, in the forest when lord knows Zeke was getting on Levi’s every last nerve. However, the odds are stacked against him now. And if Levi’s going to do it, he’s got to do it now.

Lastly, something that most recently caught my attention was something Zeke says in chapter 113. He’s having a one-sided dialogue with Levi while Levi attempts to escape the 30 titans Zeke has just sicced on him, though I’m sure Levi can hear none of it. “You thought you had strength…” Zeke begins. “Time. Choices. It was those foolish beliefs… Levi… they were your downfall.” Now we know Levi comes out of this battle victorious, if only for a moment. But if we look at this “downfall” of Levi’s to mean only that he was taken advantage of and not that he was doomed, as Zeke obviously thinks, if we accept that Levi ultimately lost this battle in the sense that he also lost his comrades and the fragile plan they had, we’re left to wonder what would then aid in Levi’s eventual salvation...

Look where we are currently. Levi has, presumably, lost his strength. He is injured and weak. Levi has run out of time. Eren is rumbling the world and Levi’s days aren’t getting any longer. He’s also run out of choices. The path laid out before them is bleak: stop Eren or let the world end.  Maybe knowing he has none of these things will be to Levi’s advantage. Maybe that will be what causes him to ultimately make the decision to kill Zeke. He doesn’t have the capability to take down a crazed, Eren dinosaur, but he might have it in him for one last fight with a bearded bastard. He doesn’t have the time to save the world, but he’s got just enough time to fight one guy. And Eren has pretty much made the decision for everyone about how to move forward, and Levi can take that as the last sign he needs to say “fuck loyalty” and collect the Beast’s head.

THE SHOWDOWN

Everything before this was just reasons why Levi is going to be the one to finish Zeke. I feel like we don’t have as many clues as to how he’s going to accomplish this.

I know what comes up a lot in the discussions about Levi’s relevance at this point is the story is his current state, his health and his injuries. I think that’s what makes it interesting, though.

Yes, Levi is injured. But so is Zeke.

We’ll go with the idea that Zeke isn’t stuck in the endless sandbox that is paths. (It’s just easier not to think about all of that...) But the last time we see Zeke in the real world, he’s got a chunk missing out his back. I’m also pretty sure he’s unfortunately placed at the bottom of the walls, which don’t exist anymore. Side effects of this may include death by trampling or being buried under a pile of rubble.

And then we have Levi. Poor, tired, depressed, so done with everyone’s shit Levi Ackerman who honestly would just like to kill Zeke and move on with his life.

Levi is injured. Levi has no gear. Levi is missing two fingers and, very likely, half his eyesight.

However, Levi is Levi. He is nothing if not tenacious and driven. He will make this work. With his bare hands, if that’s what it necessitates.

And I think that’s what it’ll come to.

Zeke has known this day was coming for years and has been under no illusion that he has ever been truly safe from Levi. He knew that he was only spared by Paradis’ need to keep him alive. Their banter is evidence enough of this; Zeke knows his days are numbered. Now, with the world literally crumbling around them, there isn’t much holding Levi back. And Zeke, for his part, has had his dreams ripped out from beneath him while watching his dear little brother betray him and choose to rumble the world. He’s not got much left to live for.

Now, I won’t get into speculating where or when this fight will take place. Over the last month or so, since chapter 129, I’ve been (only half-jokingly) arguing for the theory that Levi may have slipped off of his booster seat on Uber Pieck and remained on the island. Which would obviously make it easier for him to find Zeke or Zeke to find him. If Levi is indeed on the ship (proof where??), then that means the alliance will need to cross paths with Zeke on their way to Eren. Which I suppose is plausible too. We haven’t seen Zeke in quite some time, so who’s to say what he’s been able to get himself into—or out of—in the time being.

So, while it might take a little footwork to get Levi and Zeke in range of each other once more, I wouldn’t exactly count it out.

Regardless of how it happens, the next time these two meet will be far from uneventful. Levi is angry. Levi is resentful. He won’t let Zeke get away again.

I can see another epic Levi panel, similar to the iconic “Kenny!” we get in chapter 57, as he happens upon Zeke one last time. Imagine. Levi rolling up to an oblivious Zeke, calling him “Beardy” or “piece of shit” as the bandages fall away from his face from the force of yelling. We’ll be treated to what I imagine will be Levi’s final form, a presumably partially blind and sliced up version of himself, with rage in his eyes that’s only exacerbated by this damaged façade.

There’s the alternative to this, too, in which Levi heals quickly, perhaps some Ackerman magic as Hange pointed out. He is no longer bloodied, but scarred. Levi may even know this and might just be biding his time under the bandages and only pretending to be unable to fight. I feel like this scenario would horrify Zeke even more, though he needs no help in that department. We already know he’s terrified of the Ackermans.

In either scenario, Zeke will perhaps let his inherent hubris get the best of him, and, seeing Levi weaponless, let his guard down, as he is wont to do. Zeke knows they’re both injured, down for the count. Even if Levi has healed a bit, I have no doubt there will be lasting effects to his injuries. He’s not a kid; he’s older and battered and incredibly tired.

I’m predicting Zeke will remain in his human form. He may be too injured to shift. Or perhaps timing is everything and he might be relieved of his titan curse at a very inopportune moment. My favorite theory would be that in Zeke’s infinite wisdom and pride, he’ll perhaps decide that he’s oh-for-two in Beast vs. Levi fights and maybe he should take Levi on mano a mano.

Ah, Zeke. But Levi is no man.

Imagine, a titan and an Ackerman, both reduced to their most basic selves.

I think we’re going to have ourselves a good old-fashioned fist fight.

Levi knows he’s in a bad state. He’s under no illusions about his health. But we know his heart will be in it. And where Zeke may think this is a level playing field, he will be sorely mistaken.

I just think we’ve seen all we need to see as far as Levi fighting titans is concerned. He goes a little feral, slices them up easily. But Levi fighting Zeke as Zeke, not as the Beast Titan, will inject a little reality into the fight. It’ll allow Levi to really see his enemy, and while it might not make him hold back, we might see Levi get a little more introspective about the whole thing. Maybe the fight is slow. Maybe it’s a bit lousy. I’m not sure how much gas either of them has left in the tank. I can see these two throwing around more words than punches at this point, but blood will be drawn. We’ll have a little more breathing room to take in what’s happening, and, hey, who knows? This might be a good time for one last Erwin flashback.

Levi might have one last knife up his sleeve, a timeless Choice with No Regrets weapon brandishing, one last fancy flourish of his blade before lodging it in Zeke’s gut. Preferably his lower left quadrant. For reasons.

But I think that’s what we need. A messy, emotional fight. No titans. No gear or gas or swords. One last chance for Levi to give Zeke his comeuppance. One last chance to showcase this Ackerman strength that Zeke has been so terrified of and which he has never actually seen the full force of. Levi has been holding back to some extent during each of their fights. He had to. But no more.

Ultimately, Levi will kill Zeke and, in the process, himself.

He’ll fulfill his vow, and he’ll get to rest. Finally.

BUT WHAT’S THE POINT?

Why does it matter? Why does Levi have to kill Zeke?

Ultimately, it’s all about Levi.

Firstly, I love Levi. I think it’s safe to say a lot of people do. And I don’t think it’s a stretch for me to say that we’d like to see him squeeze one last ounce of goodness out of his life.

I believe it would be in very bad taste for Isayama to kill Levi as he stands (or sits) now, broken and sidelined and helpless. That’s not who Levi is as a character. And that’s how you waste a perfectly good scar. So his options are to stop Eren or kill Zeke. And I personally believe there are far better people than Levi suited for the job of stopping Eren, both physically and narratively (cough Reiner cough). Though I don’t deny it would be nice to see Levi have a role in taking Eren down, however bittersweet that may be for him, and us.

But let’s look at where we currently stand. I’m not sure about how everyone else feels at this point in the story, but chapter 130 gave me some interesting vibes. This feels like the second act of an action/horror movie, where the ensemble gathers around a campfire or a lamp in a darkened home, and admits defeat. They look around wearily and kind of decide they’re just going to do whatever the hell they want to do because the world is going to end tomorrow or the zombies are going to break down the door by morning. Obviously, most of our remaining characters want to help, but I can’t help but feel some intrusive feelings of… despair? Obviously most of these feelings are coming from Annie, and Hange is admittedly trying to keep her around. But the zombies are breaking down the door. The Colossals are trampling the mainland. I’m not sure the alliance would have it in them to force Annie to stay, even though they could absolutely use her titan powers to help fight this war.

But when posed with the question “Should Levi be allowed to abandon ship (literally) and go make good on his own promise?” the answer always seems to be “absolutely not.” Levi is denied his dreams. Because people expect better of him. Which is valiant, I suppose, for us to think he’s above that pettiness. But I think most people aren’t really examining his character as a whole.

Points can be made that his drive to kill Zeke is a devolution in his character, that his tunnel vision has changed him and he isn’t the same person with the same goals and motivations as he used to be. On one hand I say: Good. This isn’t a fairytale. This is Attack on Titan. Flawed characters are good. Character development, in any direction, is good for the story. (I mean, have you met Eren?) On the other hand I say: This is who Levi has always been. He’s never been the “good” guy. This is the same man who was called a madman and didn’t deny it. I don’t believe we’re necessarily seeing a different side to him but more of what makes Levi himself is coming to the forefront.

Levi is in his mid- to late-twenties when he joins the Survey Corps. His time underground up until that point had been less than desirable. We all know the story, and it’s not a pretty one. Watching his mother die. Being raised, then abandoned, by Kenny. Followed by who knows how many years of struggling to survive on his own before he found his family with Furlan and Isabel. And even then, it wasn’t easy. Levi is a flawed, fully developed character when we meet him. He is violent and imperfect and deadly. The man tortured someone without blinking. I think wanting him to forego this instinct that he’s known his whole life, in favor of some more angelic or heroic outcome, is a bit too optimistic. It’s almost disingenuous.

Levi isn’t going to be the big hero of this story.

I know... I’d like him to be too, in a sense. But that’s going to fall on our other protagonists. It’s going to be the kids’ tasks to slay the bad guys and tie up the loose ends.

The only reason Levi even began caring about humanity is because of Erwin, and now Erwin is gone. Levi may have found a greater purpose with Erwin and the Survey Corps, but that didn’t change who he was, who he has always been. Letting Levi follow through with his vengeful dreams won’t make him any less of a character. If anything, it’ll cement who he truly is, which is someone that I think most people have forgotten about.

But who knows. Maybe Levi is to be denied, one last time, forever frustrated and regretful. Maybe that’s what Isayama is getting at. Maybe he’s trolling us. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe we’ll have all this build up only to get the rug pulled out from under us. Sike, Levi isn’t going to kill Zeke. No dreams will be fulfilled here. Wrong manga.

However, I choose to remain cautiously optimistic. This will very likely be the denouement to Levi’s arc. Let him go down in a blaze of fiery revenge if he so chooses. He’s earned it.

[sharkbaitsekki]

Emm, dimiclaude idea here, thought I'd throw one out there (don't feel pressured to do it!!) But what if Claude is trying to get Dimitri to chill and says "you're not perfect, just let go and do what you want" and the boi Dima is like "Ok. Ok! I can do this!" and quickly smooches the Claude and mentally Claude's like tHAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT but he's not complaining

“You look way too focused, Dimitri.”

“And perhaps you are not focused enough, Claude.” 

There was nothing new about their exchange, the two of them having had the same discussion in various ways over their study session. When Dimitri looked up from his books this time, Claude was balancing his pencil on his upper lip like a mustache. That, at the very least, was a new trick. 

“What... are you doing?” he deadpanned, watching as Claude wobbled, trying to keep his balance but ultimately failing. The pencil fell from its spot and Claude snatched it through the air, twirling it between his fingers. 

“I’m tired of studying,” he whined in response, leaning his chin in his hand. He tucked his pencil behind his ear like hanging up his weapon on a rack. “We’ve been at this forever.”

“We have been at this for an hour and a half,” Dimitri corrected, unimpressed, “For one hour of which you have been doodling cats on your course notes.”

“I also doodled the Professor and a fish sandwich,” Claude corrected, pointing out the doodles in question, “which, incidentally, I hope we’re not having for lunch today.”

“Claude,” Dimitri chided firmly. “Focus. I did not agree to study with you in order to allow myself a distraction from said studying.”

“And I asked to study with you because you always look too serious and I wanted to loosen you up,” Claude retorted shamelessly, kicking his legs up on top of the table. Dimitri swept them off without missing a beat. “Come on. You’ve really been working hard recently, so you should take a rest.”

“I don’t require rest at the moment,” Dimitri assured him, turning his eyes back down to his papers. “At the moment, I wish to understand the application of this formula in calculating catapult trajectories.”

“I’ll teach it to you,” Claude hummed, jumping off his seat and sauntering over to Dimitri to glance down over the young prince’s back. His lazy eyes sparkled with confidence, which simultaneously comforted and infuriated Dimitri. He made it all seem effortless. “On one condition.”

“What?”

“In return, I just want us to do one thing that you actually wanna do. We could go horseback riding, or go read some novels in the courtyard... doesn’t matter to me. But it has to be something you want to do,” Claude said, leaning on Dimitri’s chair. His knuckles brushed the back of his uniform and even though Dimitri couldn’t feel their warmth through his cape, he felt oddly soothed at the pressure on his back. 

“Studying is something that I want to do,” Dimitri replied, and immediately felt how off the sentence sounded. Claude felt it, too, giving him a lopsided grin that said ‘told you so’ in the most obvious way. 

“I don’t think that’s quite true,” Claude chuckled knowingly. “My guess is that studying is just something you have to do, considering how seriously you take your princely duties. Aren’t I right?”

“I don’t see how that could be a bad thing,” Dimitri insisted, crossing his arms. “I am simply being responsible. My birthright is not one to be taken lightly, after all.”

“Oh boy...” Sighing dramatically, Claude circled Dimitri again and grabbed his chair, dragging it noisily to Dimitri’s desk and plopping down next to him. At this distance, their shoulders brushed when he leaned into Dimitri’s notes. “Okay, let me show you. Maybe you’ll be a little more willing when this is out of the way.”

“I’m not-”

“Pay attention, Your Princeliness!” Claude chided playfully, and then tapped the paper with his pencil. “You have to start by determining the weight of your projectiles. Look.” He immediately began to scribble in the margin of Dimitri’s notes, and the blonde had no choice but to pay attention to him. 

Begrudgingly, he admitted that Claude was an excellent teacher, concise and patient with his explanations and guiding Dimitri into completing the exercise himself. By the time Dimitri figured out the final answer, he felt like he had actually learned how to do things on his own. 

“I’ve finished,” he announced with quiet pride in his voice, scribbling the last parts of the answer down hastily. 

“Hmm.” Claude’s voice was a little too close, and Dimitri realized that he had leaned in until both of their faces were nearly touching over the assignment. Somehow afraid to ruin it, he tried to quiet his breathing. “Well, you got it. Nicely done.”

“Thank you,” Dimitri murmured, not daring talk too loud in this proximity. His face felt hot for some reason, his eyes darting instinctively to follow the peek of Claude’s tongue through his lips when they became too dry. Claude was also looking at him, eyes glinting with something that Dimitri could not discern, and he looked away in embarrassment. “I... I suppose I should continue this series of exercises now.”

“You already got it right. No need to keep going,” Claude assured him, still not pulling away. 

“I must be able to do this on my own,” Dimitri insisted, feeling more and more tense. His heart beat fast, but not like it did in battle. Despite how wired he felt, Dimitri didn’t feel stressed.

“Come on, you’re not perfect.” Claude’s teasing hum vibrated through the air and Dimitri suddenly found himself thinking that he wanted to touch his chest and feel it in his hand. “Dimitri. Just do something you want to do, for once.”

And Dimitri finally felt it, the powerful urge to do just that, to discard expectation and follow his heart into the dark instead. His hands itched and his throat felt tight and he found himself wondering if this sort of anxiety was normal, or simply because of Claude.Claude, whose eyes still hadn’t left Dimitri’s face, still close and contemplative, warm and beckoning and taunting Dimitri to act, to discard his title and his burdens for just one second, just long enough to be himself.

Dimitri kissed him. 

He wasn’t sure what ultimately drove him to do it, but without questioning the urge, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Claude’s, soft, unsure, and brief. He couldn’t see Claude’s expression until he drew back and opened his eyes, stunned to note how wide they’d gotten. 

“Well then,” the other boy stuttered slightly, licking his lips. The action made Dimitri feel strangely hot. “I... wasn’t expecting that.”

“Is that really not what you were waiting for?” Dimitri asked, a whole new brand of anxiety sitting in his stomach. His once serene heart now felt like a storm in the making. “I-I apologize, I am notoriously bad at reading people and it is something I must improve if I hope to-”

“Dimitri.”

He stopped talking, hanging onto Claude’s every word, watching in anticipation as his stunned expression relaxed into something amused, almost fond. 

“Is that really what you wanted to do?” he asked, an easy smile stretching across his face. There was no malice to it, no trickery. Perhaps it was that genuine display that gave Dimitri confidence to continue. 

“Yes,” he answered, not expecting his voice to come out so firm. “It was.”

“Well done, then,” Claude chuckled, amused. “So... can I do something I want, now?”

“Yes,” Dimitri murmured, and even before Claude reached him, he had leaned over to meet him halfway. Their lips met again, easier this time, more instinctively. 

When he tangled his hands in Claude’s hair to draw him closer, deepening the kiss like a man starved for centuries, the pencil perched behind Claude’s ear clattered to the floor noisily. Dimitri didn’t hear it, instead breathlessly drowning in Claude, listening only for the sounds of his pleasure and realizing that this was something he had both wanted and needed for the longest time. 

[cascadena]

Rekindled - Prologue & Ch 1

SUMMARY: Post-BotW. Zelink. Hyrule now turns to an exhausted Princess Zelda to pick up the fragments of the fallen kingdom. Link, who is still piecing together his own past and traumas from his own journey, realizes that he has to be the one to help Zelda back on her feet. Together, they travel the land to begin the rebuilding process, and uncover a new, mysterious threat along the way...

GENRE: Adventure, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

WORDS: 44K

STATUS: Complete

RATING: T for Teen | Contains Action/Violence, Blood, and (Of-Age) Alcoholic Beverage Consumption, Kissing Scenes.

[Read on FF.Net] - The ENTIRE story is already posted there for your reading pleasure!!

[AO3 Posting coming soon!]

-

PROLOGUE

Link

The clouds of malice curling above me dissipated upon the Princess’s eradication of Ganon, leaving behind an untainted sky that shone with a more vivid blue than I had seen since awakening from my slumber. Rising from where I’d landed with my paraglider after sending the final ancient arrow right into Ganon’s core, I rubbed a particularly sore spot on my right shoulder where Calamity Ganon managed to land a more severe blow with an ancient blade in our duel at Hyrule Castle. The bleeding had slowed from my adrenaline rush but it would only hold off the pain for so long. I gripped my arm as I cautiously approached the girl whose voice I had only heard in my mind since my revival. Though we’d just destroyed the malicious Calamity Ganon, my heart still beat quickly in anticipation of the reunion with the beautiful girl from my memories.

The Princess lowered her arm, facing away from me as she took a slow, deep breath. I flinched when she began speaking. Her soft voice was just audible over the whips of wind as the last of the malice storm cleared around us.

“I’ve been keeping watch over you all this time… I’ve witnessed your struggles to return to us as well as your trials in battle. I always thought—no, I always believed—that you would find a way to defeat Ganon.” She paused for a moment as she seemed to consider her next words. “I… never lost faith in you over these many years,” she said. 

Finally, she turned. A strangely familiar warmth pulsed in my chest as she faced me for the first time since I died in her arms a hundred years ago. Her small smile was familiar to my memories. I wondered how in the world I’d ever been able to keep my focus on the demands of my duty to protect her in the past. 

“Thank you, Link...the hero of Hyrule.” Her expression softened. I nodded and swallowed a smile, unable to speak as hot tears welled in my eyes. Zelda seemed to notice, and a weight visibly lifted from her shoulders as she clasped her hands in front of her. “May I ask… Do you really remember me?”

“Yes, Your Highness, I do,” I managed to reply, but my voice cracked as a tear escaped down my cheek. Zelda smiled as she clasped her hands over her face as she suppressed a cry.

“We’ve finally done it,” she breathed, and then her balance shook. 

Within a second of seeing her waver, I leapt forward, just in time to catch her in my arms as her legs gave out beneath her. I cushioned her as the weight pulled us both to our knees. I wondered if holding Hyrule’s Princess so close was proper for her Appointed Knight. However, when I felt her arms tighten a little in gratitude around my shoulders, I knew it was acceptable in this circumstance. “Even now, you protect me from any harm when it threatens me,” she said into my shoulder. 

A smile dared to cross my face, until I realized my wound had begun to bleed onto the back of her dress. I inhaled sharply as the pain began to throb. The adrenaline was wearing off for both of us.

“Link!”

My head flipped to the right towards the source of the voice. A covered wagon charged towards us from the East. I instinctively reached to the hilt of the Master Sword at my shoulder but relaxed when I saw a familiar girl hop out and run ahead of the caravan to meet us.

It was Paya. The Sheikah had come to help us.

-

-

CHAPTER 1

Link

Everything that happened next was a blur. The Sheikah caravan halted and Dorian and Cado jumped out to assist Zelda into the wagon. A million pains began pulsing through my body.

“M-Master Link… We left as soon as we heard the rumble of Vah Ruta’s laser,” said Paya. She took one look at my arm before she fetched a makeshift bandage from the wagon and handed me a water skin. “Please, let us assist you…”

We began the journey back to Kakariko Village, where the Sheikah could help us. I insisted on riding Epona, my horse, to give Zelda more space in the wagon, as the exhausted Princess had passed out shortly after being helped inside. Epona was a tough girl, and though she was exhausted from the battle with Ganon, I knew she could make it to Kakariko after Paya fed her a hearty mix of swift and endura carrots.

Epona followed the wagon on a lead as we made our way towards the Dueling Peaks. Hyrule seemed so peaceful as usual, and I briefly wondered if any of the civilians were even aware yet that the calamity had finally been destroyed. Surely, the Sheikah weren’t the only ones to witness the Divine Beast lasers fire. 

I glanced into the open flap on the backside of the wagon and could see Princess Zelda sleeping in a shaft of sunlight. Her mouth hung open as she curled up on the cushion inside. After a hundred years of fighting off Ganon, her nap was well deserved. Looking upon the exhausted Princess in her dirtied, bloodied prayer gown, I felt a wave of guilt pass through my gut and my jaw clenched. If I hadn’t fallen a hundred years ago and just slayed Ganon back then, she would not have had to suffer and fight for so many years. 

Her pain was a result of my own failure.

I knew I would have to apologize to her at some point. But how could one possibly apologize for a hundred years of suffering and a fallen kingdom? My thoughts began to drift as my consciousness faded away with the rhythmic thud of Epona’s trotting. The shadows of moblins, guardians, and lynels flashed through my mind in a hazy dream as my brain processed all I’d just endured. I had fallen asleep on horseback a few times previously, but never for very long stretches of time. It was a miracle that I didn’t fall off Epona and drown in the river right there. 

The golden light of the sunset fell over the mountaintops surrounding Kakariko Village, casting the village in shadow so that only the warm illuminance of the resident’s windows brought light into the streets. When our caravan arrived in front of Impa’s house. I jolted awake as Dorian’s small children called my name. A few other curious villagers crowded around before Dorian shooed them away. 

Zelda awakened, and I was grateful that the evening light would prevent us from drawing much more attention from the villagers as we ascended the steps to the elder’s home under the cover of darkness. Only as I climbed the steps did I begin to realize how exhausted my body felt: navigating through the rubble of Hyrule Castle, defeating Calamity Ganon, and then riding all the way back to Kakariko all in the same day had done a number on me. However, I couldn’t complain, because the girl stepping up next to me had just fought off the ultimate demon for a hundred years straight.

We had not even reached the top of the stairs when the doors to the house flew open. Zelda gasped from beside me, faltering before she whispered. “...Impa?”

Impa grinned down on us. “It has been a long time, Your Highness.”

-

Before she began preparing food, Paya fetched a red potion from Impa’s cabinet for me. I felt  the pain in my arm and head dull considerably with the first sip. I then went to sit down with Princess Zelda where she kneeled beside Impa’s cushion. We briefly made eye contact and she smiled, though I could see fatigue clouding in her emerald green irises. I offered a crooked grin of my own in return. A flash of surprise crossed  her face, though she said nothing of it.

“You look like you haven’t aged a day,” said Impa as she placed a hand on Zelda’s own. “Some of us aren’t so lucky, unfortunately… At least Link has all those scars to prove he battled in the calamity, even if his memory is still imperfect.”

I almost choked on my potion with Impa’s joke. Robbie must have talked with Impa about how he confirmed my identity. 

Zelda glanced over at me with a raised eyebrow before she shook her head. “I was locked in a state of stasis. Even now, I don’t fully understand how everything has changed since I last walked through Hyrule.”

Impa chuckled softly then nodded. “I am sure it will take quite a while for you to process everything that has come to pass.”

Zelda clasped her hands on her knees in front of her. Her white dress, though stained from the events a hundred years ago, still fell around her in graceful, unwrinkled folds. “We… we must immediately plan the next course of action,” said Zelda.

“Indeed,” said Impa, shifting to lean forward in her seat. She put her hands on her knees and leaned forwards. “Hyrule looks to you, Your Highness.”

“Well, yes…” Zelda’s eyes flickered wide for a moment as if it had only now occurred to her that the leadership of the kingdom now fell solely on her shoulders alone. I frowned as the memory—though still a bit broken in my head—came back to me. A hundred years ago, we’d fled the castle in a hurry when the Guardians corrupted around us. Zelda had not seen her father die in the castle that day, but I knew of his fate from speaking with his spirit. 

She may have not had any time to even consider his death at all, until now.

“Impa… tell me, as my Royal Advisor, what do you think we should do?” Zelda asked in a low voice. Her hands fidgeted with the folds of her skirt.

Impa tightened her lips. “I believe we should start with the restoring of the castle. It is the heart of Hyrule Kingdom.”

Zelda swallowed and looked down at her hands. “Right, the castle…”

“There are monsters everywhere inside,” I said. Zelda glanced at me when I spoke. “We will need to get them out first. I also think there are some things inside that could possibly be salvaged.”

A hint of hope glimmered in Zelda’s eyes but it was lost a moment later. “Who will help us do this? The entire army is gone. The last of our soldiers fell in the battle at Akkala Citadel.” She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. “We could do nothing to save a single soul.”

“The Sheikah have always served the Royal Family,” said Impa. “I will see to it that we do everything we can to assist. Perhaps you can ask the other races of the kingdom for help too.”

I could tell Zelda’s mind raced as her fists clenched the fabric of her dress. “Perhaps. Thank you, Impa.”

“I am sure they will be willing to help,” said Impa. Zelda nodded but fell quiet. 

A few minutes later, Paya placed a tray of steamed vegetable skewers in front of us. My mouth watered at the sight of the colorful vegetables. I hadn’t eaten since I swiped some  raw mushrooms from a moblin’s hoard in the castle’s ruined dining hall. Zelda reached out to take one of the skewers, and I suddenly remembered something.

“Eat slowly,” I said before she even touched the hearty radish on the skewer. She sent me a questioning gaze. I blushed when I realized I’d given an order to Her Highness. I needed to clarify. “Uhm… when I woke up after a hundred years, my stomach rejected food for a few days.”

Zelda nodded, now understanding, and narrowed her attention as she delicately pulled off the radish on the end of the spear. I dug into my own skewer without much regard for table manners, savoring the sustenance while Paya and Impa watched me, a hint of amusement evident on their faces. Apparently, I used to be a slightly more... refined eater when I served in the castle.  After only a few bites, Zelda put a hand on her abdomen and offered the rest of her skewer to me. My hunch was right—her body was still fragile from her long stay in stasis.

Paya served the rest of the meal to us: meat, rice, and fortified pumpkin pie for dessert. I ravenously enjoyed the meal, much to Paya and Impa’s entertainment—but Zelda only took a small taste of each dish to be polite before she said she felt too nauseated to continue. After the meal, I cleaned my hands and asked Paya if I could assist her in washing anything, which naturally sent her into a flustered frenzy as she declined any help whatsoever from me or the Princess. 

-

I found Zelda outside on the back porch later that evening, leaning against the wooden guardrail, her head inclined up to the starry sky. Her dress, though stained with the blemishes of battle, still reflected the silver light of the moon.  The trickle of the nearby waterfall and stream broke the silence of the night. She glanced over her shoulder when she heard me approach. “May I join you, Your Highness?” I asked. 

She nodded. I stepped up beside her and leaned against the railing. “Are you feeling alright?” I asked.

She bobbed her shoulders and I knew that probably meant ‘no’ but she would not admit it. “I am…” She paused, considering her words, before continuing. “I am worried… the races of Hyrule will be angry at me as I am responsible alone for the state of the Kingdom. I owe them all an immense apology for failing them, and I do not think I can ever repay them for it.”

My heart sank with hers. I leaned an elbow on the railing. “I believe the ones who helped me cleanse the Divine Beasts would each take up the role of becoming Champions—leaders to assist in leading a rebuilding effort—if you wish to designate them.”

Zelda tightened her lips. “It is because of me that our old Champion friends, their greatest warriors, perished in battle.”

“That was because Ganon corrupted the Divine Beasts before we even knew what happened,” I reminded her. “Besides, they will all warmly welcome you with the news of Calamity Ganon’s defeat. That is good news for all.”

Zelda nodded and looked down at her folded hands. A frog jumped into the water below us with a splash. A quiet beat passed before Zelda spoke again. “Thank you for the prompt warning about eating earlier,” said Zelda. “I suspect I would have become quite ill had I forced too much food on myself so soon after coming out of many years of stasis. I’m sorry you had to experience that.”

“You’re welcome, Your Highness,” I said. “I wouldn’t want you to feel sick either. Fighting Ganon was more than enough pain for one day, let alone a hundred years.”

Zelda cracked a small smile. “You know, we never spoke nearly this frequently a hundred years ago. You used to be so quiet. I always wished I had more opportunities to talk with you like this.”

I straightened up a bit and stared at Zelda as I processed this information. Had my personality really shifted that much since my memory reconstruction?

If so… What would she think of me now? How would she feel about me?

Zelda drummed her fingers on the guardrail as she continued. “I do wonder how we will both fit into this world now. We have not aged like those around us who are left that we knew before the calamity.” She shook her head. “I’m still processing the drastic difference of Impa’s age, to be honest. When I first saw Paya, I thought she was Impa because she has such a striking resemblance. But no, she is her granddaughter.”

I nodded. “It’s been strange meeting people who knew me from before, though I didn’t remember most of them at first.”

Our conversation was interrupted by the shriek of one of the villagers in the plaza behind us, followed by the cry of a bokoblin. 

Instinctively, I grabbed Zelda’s hand led her into the safety of Impa’s house. I pushed through the front doors to view the commotion in the village below. I halted when I saw that Dorian and Cado, Impa’s guards, had already taken care of the stray bokoblin and its body disappeared into thin air.

Several villagers gathered in the area below, nervously discussing the monster. Zelda appeared beside me and I heard her exhale heavily in stress. One of the villagers noticed her and called up at us. “It’s the Princess!”

All of the Sheikah turned their heads to look up at us. A few cheered in delight as the crowd migrated towards the base of the stairs. Several people began yelling things at us at once.

“Princess!”

“Did you finally defeat the Calamity?”

“Are you really Princess Zelda?”

“Why are there still monsters attacking us?”

“What was that giant laser?”

“Will you defeat all the monsters around the village too?”

Zelda held a hand to her chin and took a step back as the villagers yelled all of their questions at her. Dorian and Cado waved their arms in an attempt to quiet down the excited villagers.

“Enough.”

Impa’s voice boomed over the village and the crowd fell silent. I glanced over to find Impa at the top of the stairs. She crossed her arms and frowned down at her villagers. 

Zelda cleared her throat and I could see her hand shaking as she lowered them. “I assure you I will see to the concerns you have,” she called down to the crowd. “Please know that Calamity Ganon is defeated, and Hyrule will rise from the ashes.”

Several of the Sheikah cheered upon the news of Calamity Ganon’s defeat. However, one of the young child villagers ran forward in the crowd. “Then why are there still monsters attacking the village?”

Zelda pursed her lips. “We will investigate,” she said.

More villagers began to ask all kinds of questions. I glanced at Impa and she nodded at me, as if to understand my thoughts. I reached over to Zelda and grabbed her hand before I gently pulled her back towards the door to Impa’s home.

“I will take all of your concerns for the Princess in due time,” Impa called as I pulled the door open. “For now, good night, and stay on your guard for stray monsters.”

-

Zelda let go of my hand when we reached the sanctuary of Impa’s house. She paced around in a circle and sighed. “Why did a monster come into the village? Monsters should never come into a village on their own, right? What are we going to do about this?”

“Your Highness, it was just a stray bokoblin—“ I started.

“The monsters should all be tame now. We defeated the calamity. They have no reason to feel irrational anger and come to attack people now. We should be able to live in peace with them.” Zelda held her arms to her head and leaned over as she panicked. “I did seal it away, right?”

“Your Highness…” I tried again.

“I must research this. The Calamity may not have been properly sealed away—“ Zelda stopped when I placed a firm hand on her shoulder. She flicked her head around and faced me. Though she was slightly taller than I, her green, anxious gaze pierced directly into my eyes. I prayed I was not acting out of line by touching her without permission.

“It was just a bokoblin. They aren’t very smart. It probably just wandered in behind us when it saw the caravan. Dorian and Cado took care of it,” I said while looking into her eyes. “Everything is fine. You don’t need to worry.”

She looked straight into my eyes with such great intensity that I wondered if I should step away before she broke the eye contact and looked down at the ground. She sniffed and nodded as tears began to form around her eyes. “I’m sorry, I think I’ve… overreacted…”

Impa cleared her throat. “I think the Princess needs to get some more rest. How about we clean you up and then send you to bed? We can continue talk of Hyrule Castle and monsters when you wake up in the morning.”

Zelda nodded slowly and Paya escorted her upstairs to her personal quarters. I wanted to follow and give her a tight hug, although I knew that would probably be way out of line to my duty as her appointed knight. Impa told me I was welcome to stay as well but I decided I would stay at the inn that night to offer them all a little more privacy. 

I attempted to fall sleep early that evening but my mind kept drifting to the events earlier with Calamity Ganon. I decided to instead use the time to address my arm wound once more. I probably should have been seen by a doctor but I was not in the mood to answer a million questions about the battle yet. I retrieved a fresh bandage from Epona’s saddlebag and walked to the peninsula at the pond where Kakariko’s Goddess Statue resided, and sat myself down under the light of the torches. 

The red potion had luckily healed much of the delicate internal damage I’d acquired but the wound from Calamity Ganon on my shoulder would take some time to heal completely. I removed my tunic and undershirt before I applied potion-infused ointment to several minor wounds all over my torso that I accrued from monsters and malice burns in the castle. I smirked when I looked down at my abdomen. A Gerudo woman had once scoffed at me for not even having visible abs early on in my journey but there was… some muscle defined there now from months of climbing Hyrule’s mountains and cliffsides. It was clearly enough muscle needed to defeat Calamity Ganon, anyways.

My ears twitched when footsteps treaded on the grass behind me. I instinctively thought to grab my sword, but then came a quiet, “Link?”

I looked over my shoulder, and relaxed immediately when I saw the figure behind me. “Your Highness, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

Zelda folded her hands in front of her. Her golden hair was tied up behind her head in a bun and she wore a blue sleeping gown underneath a Sheikah robe that Paya must have lent to her. “I...wanted to thank you for calming me down earlier before I settled in for the night. I was just a little overwhelmed at how suddenly everything has changed.”

I turned around and wiped the remaining healing ointment from my hand onto my arm. “Nobody else seems to understand exactly what we’re going through right now.” I muttered. 

She nodded and pulled the collar of her robe up around her chin as a chilly breeze floated between us. If we weren’t having such a serious conversation, I would have considered more how it was quite a cute thing to do. She held her palm to her face as she sighed. “I...I do not think I am ready to go anywhere near the castle yet. Though it’s been a hundred years for everyone else, the memory of the destruction and loss is still too fresh, too painful in my mind...”

I stepped closer to her and she looked into my eyes once again. The light from the torches behind me flickered shadows onto her fair face. Fear and exhaustion plagued her face. 

My heart ached for her. 

She had just fought an unimaginable horror in the castle for a hundred years and now was expected to immediately begin facilitating the reconstruction of Hyrule. The villagers didn’t understand how they had set off this expectation in her mind, of course. Impa was correct that the castle needed reclaimed as soon as possible—but did Zelda really have to be there immediately?

I realized she had said something to me again but my mind had been lost in my thoughts. “Sorry, can you repeat that, Your Highness?” I asked, shaking my head.

“I said, I can see all of your scars... You have collected so many, if you don’t mind me saying. You’ve endured so much pain for us,” she said with a frown.

I looked down. The scars, a mix of the severe mortal ones I’d endured a hundred years ago and newer ones from my journey, littered in violent slashes across my body. I tightened my lips. People so easily understood I had been through pain when they saw my scars. However, nobody else seemed to notice Zelda’s struggle right now. 

I was probably the only one who could even somewhat understand what she went through with the events of the calamity. And now, she faced the immense pressure to rule Hyrule by herself. Such pressure on a single person was incredibly difficult to bear. In the past—as Zelda had reminded me earlier—the intense pressure of being the chosen wielder of the Master Sword had driven me to silence. I could not let Zelda fall to a similar fate of anxiety. 

  “Your Highness, would you like to go somewhere? To get away from everything for a bit?” I blurted before I could consider my own words.

She blinked in mild confusion. “Leave here? What about the castle? Hyrule?”

“With all due respect, Your Highness, you won’t be assembling the castle by yourself. You just defeated Calamity Ganon. Let some other people begin work on the castle.” I put my hands on my hips. “Your Highness, you need a rest, even if a brief one. To be perfectly honest, I need one as well.”

“What about my sworn duties?”

I laughed. “The land has lasted a hundred years without an active ruler. The people can wait just a little longer for you to recover. A lot of people don’t even know that you’re still alive.”

Zelda folded her arms and tightened her lips. “Where would we go?”

I thought for a moment. “Hateno Village? I have a house there. It’s very safe there, and nobody would bother you. We could visit Purah’s Lab.” I tapped my jaw as I considered the other perks of Hateno. “There’s also a beach nearby, so you could see the ocean.”

Zelda furrowed her brow as she considered my proposal. “It does sound like a lovely place... I’ve never visited there before, actually. I would love to see Purah again too.“ A smile graced Zelda’s lips as she nodded. “It’s decided then. I will direct Impa to lead the Sheikah to begin the reclamation of Hyrule Castle, and inform her that I will be taking a short rest before I begin the rebuilding process.”

I smiled back at her and nodded. “We’ll leave at first light in the morning.”

“Wonderful,” She bowed her head lightly. “Good night, Sir Link, I’ll see you in the morning,” she said cheerfully before turning away and retreating back to Impa’s house.

My cheeks heated against the cool air when she used the formal title. It only then occurred to me that she’d never used any kind of title with me before that I could remember.

...Exactly how close had we been before the calamity? 

[littlemisssquiggles]

So I have SEVERAL feelings over the gif and am super worried over Ruby's expression, her being separated from her team in the snow, the fact that Oscar's taking her place at the head of RWBY, and the fact that Ruby is aligned with Yang who is mentioned to be "suspicious" AND I AM NOT READY

Hiya Miki-chan. Weirdly enough, despite what the intro GIF teased, this squiggle meister took a more light-hearted reaction to it, to be honest.

I know some folks are assuming that Oscar taking Ruby’s place alongside WBY as a stance on him replacing Ruby as leading the group and…I for one, didn’t really see it that way.

For me, I looked at it as a sign that perhaps Oscar may take a more supportive stance besides Ruby; not necessarily taking her place as leader but more as being a right hand to her---y’know like an advisor to aid her in these troubling times when tensions are high and the overall trust within the team is suffering because of it. For me, I took this as us potentially seeing Oscar help Ruby to mend the broken bonds within their team, thus restoring what they once had.

It made me think back to the Little Prince and the lesson he learnt from the fox---a lesson about love and responsibility. About one being responsible for what you tame. The Fox told the Prince that he was responsible for his rose as he was the one who cared for her, and that what’s made her the most unique to him in a world full of roses.

It is because of this why I always latched onto the concept of Oscar being a support for Ruby and strangely enough, we’ve seen Oscar take a helpful role towards Ruby in the past.

We saw him take this position back during the dojo moment in V5 when Ruby wasn’t being honest regarding her repressed emotions over the events of the Fall of Beacon. We saw Oscar take this stance again in V6 in Argus when Ren questioned the room of a proper plan of action to stop Salem and we see Oscar look to Ruby, who appeared distraught as she had no answer to give. From there, we then saw Oscar try to speak up in a move that gave the impression that he was trying to emulate Ruby in that moment---trying to be a voice of reason and optimism while simultaneously diverting all the negative attention that Ruby was receiving onto himself in a sense.

Consecutively, this is later followed up by Oscar attempting to reassure Ruby of their plan back in Argus when she appeared troubled over Qrow’s behaviour.

Basically what I’m getting at is that, I’ve always liked the thought of Oscar being a “fuel to Ruby’s spark”. Since the forces of evil have threatened to break Ruby’s indomitable spirit and snuff out that light of hers, I liked the idea of Oscar becoming someone who makes it his duty to keep Ruby’s spark alive.

I based it off of this analogy I shared back in my musings from V5. Ruby is often described as possessing an unquantifiable spark. A spark is type of a flame. A flame that burns brightly to ignite the way and guide those lost to the darkness like a beacon in the night. However even the brightest of flames cannot burn forever. Eventually that flames grows weary---starts to dim until eventually its burnt out.

But do you know what is often used to keep a fire going? Wood.

Oscar’s last name is Pine and pine is a type of wood. Therefore, should Ruby’s spark start to dim. Should her spirit slowly start to break from all the pressures placed on her, I love the concept of Oscar being the one to reignite it---providing Ruby with that same burst of inspiration that she’s always provided him. Therefore Oscar becomes someone of great importance to Ruby as he becomes a source of motivation for her. Someone to keep her going and be a beacon of hope to her when she starts to go astray and feel her spark dwindling. A fuel to a spark powered by an unyielding heart of loyalty love and bathed in a golden light as bright as the sun.

That what’s I’m picturing Oscar to become for Ruby in terms of his significance to her. Even if romance isn’t in the cards for the rosebuds, I’d still love for Oscar’s relationship with Ruby to be meaningful and unique to them; just like the bond between the prince and his true rose.

And let’s not forget that…Oscar has already acknowledged Ruby’s vulnerability and understands it. What I mean by this is that that despite Ruby being christened as the voice of hope and encouragement within her group---the one everyone turns to for leadership, Oscar has already realized that this also means that Ruby has a lot of pressure placed on her because of the badge of leadership that’s been put on her by those around. Hence the comment he made to Ozpin back in V5CH5.

“…She really is remarkable, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. She must’ve been one of these best huntresses at Beacon, huh?”

“In some ways yes but in many others, no. She has her quirks. Her faults, just like everyone else. But she also possesses something unquantifiable. A spark that can inspire others even in the darkest of times.”

“…This must be really hard on her too.”

“It’s most assuredly is.”

In the beginning, Oscar reacts the Ruby the same way others who grow to admire her usual do. He is enamoured by her remarkability, as Oz put it. However the instant Oz goes even further into giving his own impression of Ruby and mentions that she is a person of inspiration to others, Oscar’s impression of her changes a little as he took Ruby’s role as leader as her also having a lot of expectations placed on her (like him) and he gets it immediately.

And that’s another reason why I loved the V5 dojo scene. It says so much about Oscar without saying a lot and it’s great.

Ironically enough, it’s AFTER this brief conversation with Oz where I noticed Oscar taking up a more dedicated approach towards Ruby---immediately being one of the first few people to run to her side after she’s hurt by Emerald during the Battle of Haven. Defying  even Ozpin---his other half essentially--- and fighting against him to possible protect Ruby from Oz when the ole soul’s desperation to prevent Ruby from using the lamp to uncover the truth got the better of him. And the list can go on.

Oscar understands the weight that Ruby feels and probably will feel even more now as she is basically placed in the same position that Oz was back during the events of V6. When the group turned on Oz, Oscar was pretty much the one to feel the brunt of the ole soul’s emotions after he chose to isolate himself. That being said, I can see Oscar not wishing to see the same thing happen to Ruby so like I said, I’m hoping his position in the opening will hint at him becoming an advisor or crutch to Ruby, standing by her side and working with her to mend everything.

That being said, I’m not saying I’m expecting Oscar to be a blind follower of Ruby, choosing to “follow her lead”. One thing I love about Oscar’s character is that while he may appear apprehensive at times, he’s never afraid to speak his mind and let others know exactly what he’s thinking and he’s not one to sugar coat either.

Oscar is rather blunt but still articulate in the way he expresses himself. It’s never vague with Oscar. He’s quite upfront about his thoughts and fears. While it may take him some time to open up, whenever he does get the courage to speak up, he always does so in a manner that commands the room or practically demands that his voice is heard by those around him.

And another trait I admire about Oscar is that he isn’t afraid to share his opinions even when he outright disagrees with someone’s stance on a particular subject. If he feels as if someone’s actions are wrong or may lead to issues, Oscar doesn’t withhold those feelings. He lets them know as highlighted when he was the first character to oppose Ruby’s decision to deceive the General. He was also quite upfront about his disagreement with the General’s actions towards the People of Mantle and progression of Amity Tower. Oscar even tried to warn the General of the path he was taking and while things still ended poorly, you still have to admire Oscar’s character in these moments.

To me, this is one of the moments that highlighted why I would consider Oscar to be our SECOND smaller, more honest soul next to Ruby. This is why I want to see him step up and be a voice of comfort and wisdom to Ruby in these times. Whether or not Ruby choses to heed his words isn’t really the factor here. I just want to see this dynamic done since this could provide an amazing opportunity to see the friendship that’s been slowly building between the rosebuds for the past few seasons truly start to flourish.

V8 could spark the moment when the Rosegarden bond fully blooms into a beautiful relationship---be it a really great friendship built on trust and understanding or perhaps something more.

Oscar is loyal to Ruby, yes. And he believes in her, yes. He also trusts her wholeheartedly, yes. However if he fears that her actions are leading her down a dark path, he will tell her so. And unlike other characters, Oscar will tell Ruby this to her face---not in a manner that condescends or belittles her---but in his own way. Firm yet understanding (like how we saw back in V5CH5).

Basically what I’m saying here is that I can trust Oscar to always being upfront with Ruby about his concerns and opinions on her actions and decisions which…is something I would like to say for the rest of her team but…I can’t. Not really.

Weiss and Blake may have their feelings and concerns but in the end, they are more or less written off as sheep perfectly content with following the herd led by Ruby as their shepherd (even if that headship ultimately winds them in a den of wolves). And while Yang had been highlighted to not be entirely complacent with her sister’s leadership (as we saw during the events of V7), it still bugs me how Yang went behind Ruby’s back the way she did last season.

It almost felt…uncharacteristic for her to do this considering that Yang has been described as someone who has always looked out for Ruby as both the older sibling and surrogate parent to her. So why have Yang go behind, not just Ruby’s back, but the whole hero team to be an informant to Robyn Hill and then…NOT disclose this info to the rest of the her teammates. Only Blake knew and like I said, Blake is a sheep, fine with following Yang’s lead despite not doing anything herself to inform the others of what the Bees did together.

In reviewing the episode where this essentially took place---V7CH7: Worse Case Scenario---Yang is the one who basically gave Blake the go ahead to inform Robyn of the truth behind Amity when the two cornered her in the alleyway. Yang was even the first to talk and tell Robyn of Ironwood’s plans to send the Ace Ops to detain her.

“…If Ironwood wants me, he’ll have to send more than a couple of kids.”

“He is. Stopping the trucks alerted the Ace Ops. We don’t have long before they arrive so please listen to us.”

Yang spoke first. There is an even a shot in that very episode where Blake goes to spill the beans to Robyn but looks to Yang first for validation and it’s only when Yang nods in agreement when Blake finally shares. Although Blake is the one who told Robyn about the plans for Amity, it was Yang who practically gave her the go-ahead.

So while Blake is an accomplice, I’m going to place full responsibility for this tactic on Yang since she made the first call and also encouraged Blake to reveal the truth. Ruby’s choice to deceive was bad, yes but we cannot ignore Yang’s own choices to deceive in this mix which is also very problematic and could prove more dangerous than one might realize.

And given how there seems to be this talk in the FNDM about Yang being the one to apprehend Ruby for her actions inV7….I'm going to be blunt with you, Miki-chan. If the show does what you think they're gonna do by having Yang be the one who either calls Ruby out for the mistakes she made from her decisions or have Yang be the voice of doubt against Ruby, basically placing her in the same role as she did with Oz back in V6, I'm honestly going to hate it.

Let me explain why I REALLY don’t like this angle. I said this before back in V6 and I'll say it again here, Yang Xiao Long has no right calling anyone out for their deceit or secrets when she is NO innocent party.

May I remind everyone that the only reason that the group ended up needing to transport the Lamp of Knowledge to Atlas in the first place was because Yang boldly told Raven Branwen---the Spring Maiden to leave her with the Relic allowing Salem to come after her and the others as opposed to advising her to seal the lamp back into its respective vault.

“…Yeah I’m scared but I’m still standing here. I’m not like you. I won’t run which is why you’re going to give me the relic.”

“And why would I ---“ “Because you’re afraid of Salem! And if you thought having maiden powers will put a target on your back, imagine what she would do if she finds out that you have a relic. She will come after you with everything she has. Or she can come after me and I’ll be standing there, waiting for her.”

“You don’t want to do this.” “Nope but I’m gonna do it anyway.”

As noble as this was of Yang to do in the moment, it was still HER decision to have Salem target the hero group for the Relic instead of her mother. It was a choice she made of her own accord and it’s a choice she hasn’t disclosed to anyone since the impression after V5 is that beyond Raven disappearing again, Yang hasn’t told anyone else of what was said and revealed down in the Vault of the Spring Maiden. Even when Qrow asked her about it during the V5 finale, she basically told him…well…a half-truth.

“…What happened?” “I don’t know exactly. When I got down there, Cinder was gone and Vernal was dead.” “And Raven?” “Gone.”

The half-truth is that Raven did leave but not before Yang figured out that she was the Spring Maiden and not before Yang told her to leave the lamp in her possession instead of sealing the lamp back in its vault. May I remind everyone that Yang also didn't tell anyone that Raven---her mother---is the Spring Maiden?

And may I also remind everyone that Yang (along with Blake) was the one who went behind the group's back and told Robyn Hill about Amity. A detail that neither she nor Blake disclosed to the rest of the team.

“…This isn’t over yet. We’re with you.” “Are you with me?” “Sir?” “…How did Robyn know about the Global Communications Project?” “We told her. The night of the ambush.”

At least with Ruby, everyone was aware that Ruby made the call to lie to Ironwood about Salem including Oscar who basically sorted that out for Ruby (even though it SHOULD have been Ruby herself taking responsibility for her own actions in my opinion). However no one knew what Yang had done with Blake with Robyn which was why they all seemed pleasantly surprised when Ironwood brought it up. Blake and Yang were the only two members of RWBY who knew about this detail and note that Ironwood didn’t bring up the group deceiving him about Salem.

Again, that part was ironed out thanks to Oscar. But the part about Robyn, that part James didn’t know about. And unfortunately for our heroes, neither did they.

Yet…Yang phrased it as if RWBY had told Robyn when in fact, it was just Yang and Blake who made that call while Ruby and Weiss were clearly in the dark as evidenced by their troubled expressions at the Aces’ and Ironwood’s reactions to the news.

You're seeing my issue with Yang being the one to call Ruby out? If Yang ends up being the one doubtful of Ruby or "suspicious" of her actions/decisions, it'll pretty much be a rehash of V7.

Most of us thought it was mighty hypocritical for Ruby to be deemed in the right for choosing to lie to Ironwood following the group's chastising of Oz for withholding important information (the same info mind you) from them.

So wouldn't it be ultra mega hypocritical of Yang to be the one to doubt Ruby's actions and leadership based on her decisions and mistakes when...technically it was Yang's actions---an action she didn't tell her team---that provided the other end of the final straw that ultimately broke Ironwood and caused him to turn against the hero team.

While what Ruby did started it, what Yang did ended it in a sense because as I’ll point out again, AT LEAST Ironwood knew about what Ruby did, thanks to Oscar. But no one knew what Yang did. Except for Blake.

But her own sister. Their  own aforementioned leader didn't know and I'm sorry, THAT needs to be addressed.

While I'm fine with Ruby being called out, Yang needs to be called out too. I will be so mad if Yang is treated as being in the right again while her own actions go unscathed.

It upset me when Yang had the gall to call out Oz for his lies and secrets while sitting on her own and it would bother me to know ends if it is done again for Ruby.

Yang cannot be the "good cop" or sheriff to bring Ruby to justice for her actions. She's got her own skeletons to be unearthed and thrown on the floor, exposed and raw for all to judge and I honestly hope this happens for V8 finally. 

Let it be a western style dual. Let both parties draw fire to take out each other. Let it be a case where both Ruby and Yang start to mirror Oz and Ironwood’s dynamic from way back in V2. Both parties don't agree with each other's decisions despite being close allies. Both parties have their own methods of helping the people and believe them to be in the right when in actuality they both end up being the catalysts to further cause more problems within their team; dividing them even further.

Instead of Yang being planted on some high horse and made to be the judge that hangs Ruby for her mistakes while continuing to hide her own, I want BOTH SISTERS be held accountable for driving a deeper wedge between their group only for Oscar Pine to end up having to be the middleman to come in and help repair it all.

And I say Oscar of all characters, not just because I’m a Pinehead and want to see more development for my favourite little prince but mainly because like it or not, Oscar HAS to be the one to be in the middle of this shitstorm since...in essence, this all started with Ozma and was prolonged by Ozpin.

And as Ozma's current heir succeeding Oz, Oscar will probably see it as his own duty to fix everything sparked by his predecessors.

Oscar already has faith in Ruby and if him spending time with Yang down in Mantle could lend to him learning to have faith in her too then this could ultimately lend to him desiring to quell the tension between both sisters that’s slowly affecting their faction, henceforth working to reconcile everything with everyone.

I’ve expressed how much I would like to see Oscar mend the broken bonds within his team and I still want that above anything else to be part of his arc for this coming season. 

The hero team dynamic needs a reboot; with everyone being cleared of their past false actions so that they can start anew with everyone on a clean page with one another and a better willingness to trust each other now that they've all experienced what deceit and secrecy amongst allies can do.

I want this so much and I want Oscar to play a big part in making it happen. 

I don’t wanna hear “Ruby is our protagonist and she has to fix everything” or “Yang will be our stan queen for V8 to call Ruby out”.  NO! 

Both girls have fucked up! Everyone has fucked up!

Including my boy. The difference is that at least Oscar knows he’s fucked up. He is AT LEAST aware of his fuckery unlike Yang and Ruby and the rest of the hero team which is why I need Oscar to be the one to pull everyone up for their shit.

Since who better to do it than the person whose shares a body with the man whose made more mistakes than any man, women and child on Remnant, am I right? 

 Even now as we head into V8, I don’t think Ruby and Yang are aware of the consequences of their own mistakes. None of them seem to be. All the more reason why I think they require the wisdom and guidance of another smaller, more honest soul---one whose seen it from BOTH sides of the coin and can now make a call to better help everyone as a whole.

That's what I'd like to see. Not sure if this changes how you feel Miki-chan but that's how I see it.

P.S. On another note, if it’s any further consolation, I’m not ready for V8 either 8V 

Like it still hasn’t quite hit me as yet even when the episode is literally tomorrow. All I will say is that I NEED to see that opening. Based on how things are staged from the teaser, that opening and the visuals that tells what we’ll see for that season will be what gets me into V8.

But we’ll see XD 

~LittleMissSquiggles (2020)

[writingfromkitchenator]

Dwalin ~ Lust

1,000 Followers Challenge!

Requested by @emrfangirl

Sequel to Ornate

Words: 1,298

Warnings: Grim situation, angst, minor smut (more suggested than anything, nothing graphic, but 18+ only for safety)

“Did you want to ask me something?”  

Your voice brought Dwalin out of his thoughts and he took a moment to look at you through the cell doors before sighing heavily and looking away again.  “It’s nothing that we haven’t already discussed before.”

You give him a sad smile.  “Have they given me a date yet?”

Dwalin shakes his head, his heart aching, a part of him still not believing that all of this was happening.  “I wish they would.  I wish they would make a decision.”

Remaining silent, you let your hand slip through the bars, brushing your fingers gently over the back of Dwalin’s hand, who entwines your fingers.

“Is there anything I can do?” Dwalin asked quietly.  “Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you,” You said and then gave his hand a small squeeze, bringing his gaze to yours.  “Everything will be okay my love, and if things go for the worst, then please, move on from me.  You deserve to be happy.”

Dwalin blinked frustrated and grieving tears from his eyes. “I was happy with you.”

You give him a smile.  “And I with you, but I told you when we first met that I was complicated, that I couldn’t tell you who I really was, and you deserve someone that won’t lie to you like that.”

“You didn’t lie,” Dwalin kissed the back of your hand. “You wanted to leave your past, your peoples past, behind you, and I could never fault you for that.  I-”

He was stopped by a clang down the hall and Balin walking, looking rather grim, towards him, making Dwalin tense and you to sigh softly, pulling your hand away.

It seemed that it was finally time.

The air in the room was palpable as you were brought out, having been much the discussion of Erebor over the last few weeks, and now everyone wanted to know what the decision was.  Dwalin had been the loudest voice for your release, that you had corrected what had happened at great personal cost to yourself, but there were many others that thought you should pay the price for the accused, they thought that you should pay the ultimate price for the crimes.

Dwalin was grim and ashened face as he sat still in the courtroom, his body still, hands clenched tightly together in front of him, knuckles white.  He refused to meet anyone’s eye, especially Thorin, who he’d spent many hours arguing with. Thorin was bound by his duty as king, no matter what his friend thought of the situation, and it was breaking his heart to see Dwalin like this, it was the most distant the two of them had been ever.

Thorin knew, that should this decision turn against you, then he would most likely lose Dwalin as a friend forever, whether it be through your death or your exile, because he had little doubt that Dwalin would follow.

Your head was held high, always held high in the multiple times you’d been brought forward, and Dwalin’s heart swelled in admiration.  He loved you, more than anything else in the world, and seeing you face the world like this, without so much as a waver in your step, it was one of the bravest thing he’d ever witnessed.

His gaze didn’t leave you as the council began and he ignored the fact that this could very well be the last time he ever saw you. He let his mind wander away from the room, let his mind wander to happier things, to times when none of this happened, when you hadn’t had to destroy your people, when you hadn’t been labelled as a leader of a criminal gang, when it had just been the two of you, living a simple life.

Tears came unwillingly as he thought of the times that you’d made love, when the two of you had lied there for hours and he’d memorised that pattern on your skin, one that he’d been so fascinated by but never knew it’s true story, it’s true weight on your shoulders.  It had all felt so long ago, in a time that both existed but didn’t, and Dwalin wanted to go back there, to go back to those moments when it all meant nothing except for the love that you had for each other.

There was a murmur around the courtroom and Dwalin finally looked up and around the room.  He could make out the expressions of those disagreeing with the decision, but even more, he could make out the look of relief on your face as the guards undid your bindings.

Dwalin looked over at Thorin, who nods at him, his expression understanding, and before he even knew what was happening, Dwalin was on his feet and running to you, scooping you into his arms and holding you tight, making a silent promise to never let you go.

They couldn’t do anything against someone that hadn’t done something themselves, who had righted the wrong that was done and returned all the stolen goods.  Leader or not, the evidence was clear that you had put that life behind you.

None of the doubts and questions mattered anymore.  Dwalin didn’t care that people were saying that Thorin only let you off due to Dwalin being his friend, he didn’t care that there were distrustful looks being thrown your way as Dwalin pulled you through the halls, he didn’t what was to come, what the consequence of your freedom would be.

All that matter right now was you and him.

Dwalin’s lips didn’t leave yours as you locked yourselves in your room, but it was you that lead him over to the bed, that sat you both down, that kissed away his tears as he held you.  Relief and need filled the room quickly, clothes tugged hard and pulled off, scattering to the floor as fingers dug into bare skin.

There were no words needed for this moment, only touch and feeling as the two of you moved together, assuring both of yourselves that everything was okay, that you were both still here, that neither of you were going anywhere.

You were above Dwalin, taking your time, comforting him, knowing how much he needed this, how much he needed to know that you weren’t going to go anywhere again, and in doing so, your own tears started, tears of relief that you’d be able to love equally and without measure for the rest of your days together, that there was going to be nothing that would get in the way of that.

Dwalin sat up and held you close as the first sob broke through you, overwhelmed by love for you, by how strong you’d been through all this, and now that you were free, now that you were safely back with him, everything else was coming free, but only for him, you would only ever open yourself up for him.

Need consumed both of you, feeding off your other emotions, and in what felt like too short a time, you were both up into each other under the blankets, soft kisses passing between you as you catch your breaths, holding each other close.

Dwalin’s fingers traced over skin, his eyes not leaving you as you met his eyes and smiled, one he returned softly, eyes filled with adoration and love.

“I’ll tell you everything,” You said softly, fingers brushing over his lips.  “If you want me to.”

He takes your hand and kisses it gently.  “Later, my love, for now, we are not done here.”

His kiss takes you a little by surprise, but soon, you were giggling into him as he pulled you impossibly close, a smile on his lips, and right now, that was all that mattered.

[incarnateirony]

Without maybe putting too fine a point on it, based on your observation of the way the show is headed, do you think we're moving to an ending that separates all of TFW from each other? I know the diverging of Sam and Dean's paths is a big part of their journeys, but do you think that applies to Cas (and even Jack), too? I think of all of them, I'm least clear on what the rest of Cas's journey looks like from here (beyond the Empty-that's pretty clear).

If you watch nothing else of my videos, I suggest taking the time to watch Galactic Grudge and Destiny’s Reflection. It takes about 20 minutes total, requires headphones and 1080P and yes, I understand people with audio processing hurdles or language barriers might struggle a bit but long term it maps out a path that would take several hundred pages or more to map out in text.

That disclaimer out of the way as to why I’ve arrived at this destination:

Yes.

Not entirely, nor permanently. Death is nothing to fear. Once they stop fearing death, and especially once they break the system so people aren’t auto-sorted into cages of passivity without their People and Families -- once All of the Heavens function on grand scale like, say, Ash’s bar did -- once humanity has reclaimed the throne/garden. What IS there to fear? That’s the real question.

With the video TLDR spec minded, my hot take:

Whether before or after Cas gets yeeted to the Empty (probably after), he’s due to mirror Rowena’s unbirthing of hell for a long, long list of reasons. Which sure, is her final death. But it wasn’t her end, was it?

But it’s Castiel most definitely arranging a home in which the Winchesters can have peace.

While I see Sam being the one to throw open all the doors of heaven as Chuck did hell and lead a giant MOL resistance through it to TAKE back the throne (another reason I think Cas won’t be until after the Empty, because taking heaven back is  one thing but actually stabilizing it in all the omens of what happens if God disappears or w/e is another -- we’re talking 15.20 here) (also a note, berens wrote 12.22 as a two parter alongside Dabb for 23, and Dabb also wrote Inside Man where the Bobbies revolt), Cas is probably the one going to end up with that throne. Very loosely.

Because they can’t just throw it to their kid and put the weight of the world on his shoulders, it doesn’t break anything. And Rowena has gone from Cas foil to Cas mirror over the years, and even as far as, say, The Things We Left Behind -- much less later Funeralia when she actually MEANT IT, or anything else to follow -- it’s about regret over a child that our stupid battles pretty much condemned. Sam and Dean also have a foot in this story pond but it most centrally belongs to Cas.

So while Cas chases the path of the goddess (Mary, Rowena, Amara), and Sam subverts the allfather he was tied to this season (John, Chuck and yes, even histories of Dean himself), where is Dean? Well one, Dean’s always been tied to someone fans aren’t asking enough questions about right now: Death. Who is very, very prominent this year, and I think everyone has to go rewatch Two Minutes To Midnight right now, too. Focus on more than the pizza or even “one day I’ll reap god, too”. Just focus on it all. Hell, focus on the inversion of Death finding them inconsequential to them being important. Focus on it all.

Dean has emotionally lensed parts of Chuck’s pillar this season, but that’s not really HIS, that’s what Sam was directly tied to. Dealing with daddy issues has always been a Dean thing, and part of his residual anger and hurt are what drove him and Cas apart this year, so the Chuckmara mirroring he kinda filled that emotional slot, sure. But his mytharc positioning, I’m gonna need everybody to think about that.

Dabb has spent like, 2 years teaching people that it’s fine to let go in a mature way and process your grief. Both Sam and Jack got passed a philosopher’s stone in order from Dean to Cas to (cursed aeonchild), once in 15.09 and once in 15.13. The magenta light of death is on both Dean and Cas, but largely avoids Sam, and Jack after his rebirth, while they stand over the christchild in place of Joseph and Mary.

Be it Swan Song “I can’t keep treating you like a kid anymore; you’re a grown--well, overgrown--man”, to modern “But now... you are a grown man, and I am incredibly proud of you”; it’s recognition of the child as a man. Be it Dean’s 12.22 “I saw you. Back there. You’re ready for this.” -- be it John’s “What next?” while moving on. Be it “go, mom, be happy.” be it even when she died, and they thought of bringing her back, “I saw your mother’s heaven. And she is. Happy. She’s... with John. And there’s no hurt, there’s no pain, guilt. Just joy.”

Sam’s place is on earth. His chance to have a home. A family. Dean... Dean has a family. And sure, Sam does as part of that family. But to even be a head of a home. To HAVE a wife. And a son. To finish leaving behind his legacy. Dean... has his I’m sorry.

So let’s play a game, presuming relinquishing the angel’s hold on heaven is done. Saving Cas from the empty is done. But Cas is sitting on that heaven throne while they all look different ways on what to do. Sure, Jack could revive Sam and Dean and bring them back to earth even if Cas is stuck glued to heaven like Rowena is hell. But if Dean’s done his duty AND is proud of his brother beyond duty, if the monsters are all but taken care of short of some stragglers Sam’s legacy system with Eileen can clean up. And ultimately... someone still needs to raise Jack, yes-- what does that give us?

I saw you. You’re ready for this. Now, you’re a grown-- overgrown-- man. I can’t treat you like a kid anymore.

It’s okay, dadmom. You fought for me, raised me, loved me. That’s enough. Go. Be happy. I’ve got him.

So back to “Dabb’s Dark Side of the Moon, Ash bar, megascale”, well. I’m gonna say. They’re gonna need a good hand on deck for that dream to let people find their people, to find their heaven, hell, to decide if they haven’t found their people yet and go back and try again.

It’s not goodbye, it’s I’ll See You Later. Because there’s still parts of earth they can make better. Every day they can make it better. And once Sam has his life, full, he can and would rejoin them all, in heaven. Be that wayfarer bars or toes in the sand, a world where people, families--they’re just as real there as they are on earth, able to make their perfect worlds. Dean and yes, Cas, can go and make that world even ahead of Sam-- with John, and Mary, and whatever old friends they choose to see again. And Sam, and Jack -- and Eileen -- can live on earth. Because for years Dean has wanted Sam to have a life. And die old of something normal and have a kids and grandkids. Trial and Error (Dabb), anyone.

The issue is letting go without it either being suicidal ideation of destructive sacrifice. And I think that’s the framework we’re going to be delivered.

Could I be wrong, sure I guess, I’m human. But as of right now, that’s what I see.

Cas has always wanted to bring his People home. But who have his People become? While yes, being seated in that chair gives chance to make things right with a few remaining angels he would no doubt give a chance, humans reclaiming the garden and planet from the divine they surrendered it to (Hammer of the Gods, Dabb, if you read between the lines on the Billions of pagan gods), or reversing various sealings (Clip Show, Dabb, if you pay attention to how and why EACH WORLD WAS MADE TO BEGIN WITH and how many Falls there have been and WHY THE TABLETS EXIST TO BEGIN WITH), whatever. It wouldn’t really be about establishing authority--and in the end, I’m fairly certain the Castiel seated in that throne would be irrevocably human. Because it’s the human soul that’s immortal. Be it using his grace to establish a spell and reversing elements like in Sacrifice, or tied into the angel blood and human heart theme that’s screaming at us this year-- that’s pretty much where I see Cas ending up. 

So Dean and Cas separate off to heaven in one way, Sam and Jack another, but still fated to come back together. Sam will have Eileen waiting for him. And Jack to raise.

Because the point is that they were here at all and you got to know them. And when they’re gone, it WILL hurt. But that hurt will be a reminder of how much you love them. But learning to let go -- it’s a part of growing up.

I’ve seen you. You’re ready for this. I can’t keep treating you like a kid anymore. You’re a grown, overgrown, man, and I am incredibly proud of you.

Go, be happy.

“See you on the other side.”

If people can’t watch my vids and pull anything out of it, my second note is to go do a Dabberens rewatch. Pull up Dabb and Berens eps on superwiki, make yourself a chain. I WILL note most of 6 and 7 has been seemingly obsoleted by Dabb, which should surprise none of us with all the ball punches at season 7 he does, so if you wanna save yourself a few hours, feel free to bypass. Season 10 also seems to have been addressed in season 14, and everything after that is the onset of Dabb era, so once you get to season 11 (where Carver and Dabb were sharing) and/or 12 (where Dabb took over entirely), just do a straight run. I also won’t blame you for bypassing Bloodlines. 

But if you do truncate 6/7, and a few eps, I suggest replacing them with the finale of each season (4-14, 6 and 7 pretty much already addressed last year), because Dabb still heavily employs those whether they were his own or not. Before Carver came back Dabb was sitting in the upcoming showrunner slot even during Gamble era. Dude has been primed and paying attention for a long fucking time. Absolutely 0% of people should have been surprised at Dabb inheriting the show when he did. And he’s been telegraphing his ideas for this show for years. Notice how many eps I cited above have Dabb’s pen all over it.

It’s where my headspace already was but damn if it doesn’t put Dabb and Dabberens’ direction in scale.

So for all my talk of philosopher’s stone and Death and all of that, if you can’t bring yourself to wade through all 20 minutes of Grudge-Reflection, I ask you to at least think on symbolism here

undefined

[despair-tummy]

some chub Mika.n and Gund.am for a trade

[[MORE]]

Mikan was more than relieved when her shift at the hospital ended, she was terrified of running into someone she knew back from Hope’s Peak whenever she worked. It especially didn’t help that she tended to work when the hospital was at its busiest. It was her worst nightmare she would stumble into Hiyoko again after all these years, the dancer would surely subject her to an all too familiar round of bullying.

It wasn’t like Mikan intended for it to happen! She blamed all the budget cuts towards the hospital, which meant fewer staff, leading to herself and the others have to take on extra duties. Mikan originally wouldn’t have minded, she loved her job! She liked taking blood samples, x-rays, doing ultrasounds, CTs, and many other duties that came along with her job. Seeing as she was an ultimate she was a bit of a jack of all trades in her medical field, so it only seemed right she takes on the bulk of the duties (that and she was a pushover) to help through these hard times.

However, spending so much time on her feet and working long hours left little time for meal prep. She was simply too sore and tired to cook, so she often ate out or relied on frozen dinners... not to mention Mikan developed a habit of snacking on candy while at home. It was just easier to than preparing an actual meal! Not to mention the her coworkers and grateful patients would often bring in pizza and baked goods for the hospital staff. And with not knowing if you have enough time to microwave some leftovers because you could have to treat the victims of a car accident, you learned to eat when you can and fast.

But of course, the long term effects of a poor diet eventually started to show. Mikan had no idea how the other hospital staff managed to stay so skinny! Meanwhile, she had ballooned out like crazy. Oh, the world must hate her so for giving her such an awful metabolism! She was on her feet all day constantly running samples to the lab, shouldn’t that had burned off all the cupcakes and pizza she had at work?

Judging by her plump figure with a pair of thunder thighs that rubbed together uncontrollably with each step she took (hence why she started wearing leggings to avoid the infamous chub rub), a taut little tummy that especially liked to make its presence known after a big meal or junk food binge in the break room, and had resulted in a few ‘when are you due?’ from her coworkers and patients. The sleeves of her uniform felt so tight from how chunky her arms were, Mikan absolutely hated the idea of having to get a bigger uniform but they felt so uncomfortable. Then there was her face, that second chin was developing steadily and her cheeks had rounded out, making her resemble a hamster with cheeks stuffed to the brim with sunflower seeds.

“Oh, come on.” Mikan groaned, attempting and failing miserably at hailing down a taxi to return home. Of all the days she had to forget her bus pass it was when the weather forecast called for rain! “O-oh, excuse me! Over-“ she was cut off when the taxi she was trying to get zoomed passed her and straight through a puddle, drenching her in dirty rainwater. “here...” she finished all too late.

Her heart raced anxiously as she shivered, how was she going to get home? It was her day off tomorrow and she originally wanted to curl up in bed and take it easy. Mikan sniffled, blinking back tears. What she wouldn’t give for a hot bath right now, or better yet, be magically transported to a warmer place with a comfortable bed with plenty of fluffy blankets. But unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen, she was stuck in the cold rain trying to desperately get a taxi to notice her.

“Ah, wait!” Mikan cried out, deciding to run towards the car despite seeing one of the passenger doors shut, signalling it was occupied. “C-could we please share? I’m sorry I smell like a wet dog, bu-but I just want to go home! I-I’ll pay for both our fares and-“ She stopped, eyes wide as the passenger window rolled down. Oh no...

It wasn’t the infamous Hiyoko like Mikan feared she would run into one day, but that was only a step below the worst-case scenario, the passenger was still someone she went to school with. She could recognize that scarf and scar tattoo anywhere, it was the ultimate breeder, Gundam Tanaka.

“My, my, Mikan Tsumiki... the ultimate cleric of healing,” he spoke, his gaze locked onto her. “You wish to partake in a journey with me through these unforgiving realms?”

“I-if it’s not too much trouble.” Mikan twirled a choppy lock of hair around her finger anxiously. Sure Mikan always feared running into someone she knew since her weight gain, but staying out in the rain wasn’t an ideal either. And Gundam was never one of her bullies, so surely he wouldn’t point out what a blob she had become.

“Heh, but of course not! It is always an honour to travel with someone of your capabilities.” he grinned. “Now, enter this gateway through this cursed realm!”

Mikan nodded and immediately yanked the taxi door open so hard she nearly fell backwards. She wasted not a single second getting into the cab and out of the cold rain. It wasn’t until she shut the car door and buckled up did she finally get a good look at Gundam after all these years.

At first, his scarf concealed it, but the breeder was sporting a full-on double chin. But that wasn’t all, he took up a big chunk of the cab, leaving barely enough room for the portly nurse. Mikan was practically a twig compared to him. The cab driver up front had his seat as close to the wheel as possible to make room for just how large Gundam was. His gut sat comfortably on top of his pillar-like thighs, nearly obscuring them completely from her view. He was as wide as he was tall, wider even! An absolute blob of a man! Could he even walk?

“It’s been quite a few years, oh great healer,” Gundam said.

“Y-yeah, indeed it has.” Mikan tried not to stare.

“What quests have you been undertaking since our departure from the realm of knowledge?”

“I...been working at the hospital.”

“Working at such an advance castle! You must be quite proud of the healing abilities you possess, I must admit I am rather envious.”

A smile touched her face, even after all these years, she could still understand Gundam and his eccentric manner of speech enough to know he was praising her! Her insides became all warm and fuzzy at his words, it’s been so long since someone actually complimented her abilities as a nurse! Being in the medical field she felt often overworked and under-appreciated.

“Thank- ACHOO!” Mikan sneezed directly into her elbow.

“Hmph, it would appear the storm gods decided to curse you.” Gundam’s thin lips straighten as he unravelled his scarf and offered it to Mikan.

“I couldn’t possibly-“

“There is no need to fear, this garment will not hurt powerful beings such as you and I.” he reassured.

Mikan hesitated for a moment but in the end, accepted the scarf and wrapped it around her. Wow! She didn’t expect it to be so warm and soft!

“We must remove this curse immediately,” Gundam spoke, crossing his fat arms. “Gatekeeper of the realms, take us to the sanctuary immediately!” he ordered at the taxi driver, who remained completely unfazed by his orders. Mikan guessed Gundam took taxis a lot so he must be a known regular.

The drive wasn’t a long one, she guessed ten minutes at the most. The taxi parked in front of what looked like a restaurant establishment.

“Oh... I don’t have enough money on me to eat out and pay for a ride,” she confessed, originally she intended to do up some instant ramen when she got home. “ I’m so SO sorry!”

“I assure you, I have more than enough wealth,” he said, opening the door.

They both unbuckled and exited the car... well one of them did.

“Gundam, are you...” she trailed off, averting her eyes awkwardly.

“This but a mere part of my journey, nothing to dwell over.”

Mikan would beg to differ, but she kept her mouth shut as she tried not to watch Gundam struggle to get out of the taxi, his blubbery body kept him stuck tightly within the car door frame.

“Do...do you need any help?” she asked, feeling her cheeks turn red at the sight.

“Your concern is thoughtful but unneeded, I have faced this trial many times!” Gundam reassured with such confidence for someone who was trying to squirm their way out of a car.

Mikan just stood there and twiddled her thumbs awkwardly as Gundam struggled, she tried not to stare but she always found her eyes would end up lingering on him with every jiggle and bounce of his fatty frame. It was almost comical when he managed to finally get out, Mikan could have sworn she heard an almost cartoony pop, but she didn’t know if that was in real life or in her mind.

“Now, onward!” Gundam commanded and waddled on ahead with Mikan following from behind, trying her hardest not to stare at his massive rump that sagged behind him.

The inside of the building revealed it was an all-day breakfast buffet. Mikan’s mouth watered instantly at the sight of waffles, bacon, sausages, breakfast pastries, eggs and countless fruit varieties.

“Well, I accept all forms of power sources, this one I find I tend to desire the most,” Gundam said as they got a table to set their stuff down. “And it burns deeply with enough dragon fire to help you fully recover from your curse.”

“It is rather to-toasty in here.” Mikan took off Gundam’s scarf, carefully folding it and set it aside.

“Now, let us engage in supply our forms with the healing prophecies from this sanctuary of recovery!” Gundam announced, squeezing himself out of the booth and shuffling to the array of food.

The combination of sweet and savoury smells was hypnotic to Mikan, she lost interest in watching Gundam and wasted no time grabbing a plate and getting her food. Two fluffy blueberry pancakes, six rashers of crispy bacon, four juicy pork sausages and a bowl of fruit.

The irony was not lost on her, Mikan was a nurse. And when most people thought of doctors and nurses they were normally under the impression that they ate extremely healthy. But that was the furthermost from the truth, incredibly their diet consisted of takeout and instant meals. But Mikan supposed the only difference between her and them was an awful metabolism.

After getting a tall glass of orange juice, she returned to the booth. Hopefully, Gundam wouldn’t think she was gross for eating so much, but she had such a long day and-

Her eyes went wide as Gundam set not one, not two, but three plates on the table. One piled high with fried ham, sausages and bacon, another with a stack of buttermilk pancakes that towered high, and the last one dangerously close to overflowing with fried eggs. He drenched everything in a thick layer of butter and drowned it all in enough maple syrup to fill the ocean.

“Now,” he began as he unfolded the napkin to tie around his thick neck. “let the healing ritual begin!”

They both tucked into their meals, the food tasted just as good as it smelled, better even! It immediately warmed Mikan up both inside and out and have it not been for the sound of the downpour outside, she would have completely forgotten about the rain.

“So, um... what have you been up too after graduating?” Mikan asked as she chewed on a chunk of juicy honeydew. Figuring she should try and start a conversation with him.

“I have been expanding my empire of course!” he answered, licking the runny yolk off his lips. “With so many wild and dangerous beasts in the world, my job is far from over and will probably be eternal for as long as I am in this vessel.”

“Ah, glad to know you’re still t-taking good care of animals.” Mikan smiled. “I’ve known how much you care for them.” she nibbled on a piece of bacon. “M-maybe I should get a pet... it gets kinda lonely in my apartment.”

“Be warned, beast ownership is no small task!” he warned sternly.

“O-of course!” she stuttered. “I know it’s not a decision to take lightly! I uh, promise to really think about it and-“

“Please, crease your worrying.” Gundam interrupted. “I must apologize, tis a bit of a curse I have yet to control. I have seen many attempts the quest of taming these creatures but failed and I had to carry on their failed attempt. It is no easy task and required so much of my time and energy. I need to remember you are no mere mortal considering your ability.”

“A...apology accepted.” she gave a small smile.

“Speaking of your abilities, how is your life in this realm?” he asked through a mouthful of sticky syrup covered pancakes.

“I work at the hospital not too far from here,” she said. “we’re rather understaffed at the moment, so I’ve been busy. I don’t mind... kinda.” Mikan sipped her drink. “Umm... it’s just it doesn’t leave much time for anything else if I’m completely honest. I just go straight home after a shift.”

“Ha, I too understand your endless suffering,” he spoke. “We’re in Nemean lion season, I have been summoned to offer my power and influence to try and get through this challenge.”

Nemean lion? Weren’t those some kind of mythical creature? It took a moment to figure out what he was going on about, then it clicked. Gundam was taking about kitten season. The time when most kittens were born to unsprayed cats whether they were outdoor cats (which was a big no according to Gundam) or feral cats. Naturally, this meant a lot more resources being needed from shelters and whatnot.

“You must be busy too, I haven’t been able to cook in awhile unless it’s instant,” she spoke, idly dragging the chunk of blueberry pancakes she speared with her fork through a puddle of syrup. “Probably why I’ve gained weight.”

She said it without even thinking, at first she felt guilty. Gundam has gained so much more than her, would it make him self conscious? But when he chuckled she internally let out a sigh of relief.

“I too understand the circumstances your form is going through,” Gundam said. “I have found myself in a similar position as you.”

“Oh... I hardly notice.” Mikan lied.

“Mikan, you are many things,” he began. “a skilled healer, a dear companion who I regretfully lost contact with, but you were never a good liar.”

“Sorry!” she instinctively blurted out.

“Do not dwell on it, there is nothing worthy of begging for my forgiveness currently,” Gundam reassured. “I am content with my current form, you don’t need to fret so much.”

“Ah... thank you!” Mikan spoke. “Umm, if it means anything. I think you carry it well.”

Eep! Was it weird to say that?! Did it sound too forced? It was true though! Gundam just reminded her of one of those giant stuffed teddy bears at toy stores. He looked so soft just like one, and not to mention he probably felt like one too.

“You as well,” Gundam replied.

Her cheeks flushed a soft pink as she immediately shifted her gaze from Gundam to her plate. Did Gundam see her as one of those giant teddy bears too? She only hoped her blush would eventually fade. All these years and she still wasn’t used to compliments.

As soon as they are their fill and made a few trips back to the buffet, they were comfortably full. And not only that, the rain had stopped.

“It would appear the gods had let their grip on this realm go at long last,” Gundam spoke as they exited the restaurant.

“Yeah, it’s ni-nice and warm,” Mikan said, taking a moment to soak up the warm sunshine.

“Shall we find a gatekeeper and travel back to our kingdoms together?”

“Actually... my place isn’t too far from here.” Mikan began. “It’s not you! I promise! I-I just want to enjoy the sun after all this ra-“

“You don’t need to justify enjoying this enchanted moment if I had a sufficient amount of mana I would have too.” he smiled. “However, I lost contact with you once and I rather not have this be the last time fate has us cross paths. May I offer you a way to summon me?”

“You’re phone number? Sure... I... I would love to see you again.” she smiled as Gundam scribbled his phone number on a scrap of paper.

“I think you are worthy enough to see the newest descendants from the four dark devas of destruction’s family line,” he said.

“I would love to see them.”

“Indeed, perhaps you are worthy enough to take on the quest of owning one?”

Mikan’s eyes lit up. “You...you want to give me one of them?”

“Only if I and the latest generations of the four dark devas think so!” Gundam stated. “It would involve a long series of riddles and gazing into the deepest depths of your mind to see if you are truly ready for such a task.”

“I’m free tomorrow if that works?”

“And the stars perfectly aline.” he grinned, handing her a scrap of paper with his number written down.

“May-maybe we could grab a coffee and work out the details?”

“Very well then, I accept your offer!” Gundam grinned before finally managing to get a taxi. “I look forward to it and any other future endeavours!” he called as the car drove off.

Mikan couldn’t help but smile as she looked down at the paper in her pudgy fingers. She got a number, she actually got a number and something to do on her day off! Her grin grew as she began the walk to her apartment, basking in the warm sunlight.

[bbrandy2002]

The Fall of Cordonia

Chapter Four

Trigger Warnings: Profanity, Gun Violence, Death, Sexual Content.

A/N: This came to my attention a few days ago. This series is not a spoiler for what happens in the real TRH book. I would demand every diamond I ever spent back if that happened 😬

I will also be in hiding from a certain fic writer who shall remain nameless, after this. I can explain 🤷

"Leeeooooo!!", Riley screamed as a struggle between life and death ensued over her shattered and torn body. Like a thief in the night, death entered that room with a sickening crack of the neck, taking its prisoner with him back to the fiery pits of hell.

Bradshaw slumped his lifeless body across the queen, momentum dropping him to the floor below, his miserable soul quickly extinquished. At the same time, Leo's bright blue eyes lost their color as he instinctly glanced over to look at his younger brother one last time. There were no words, just the unspoken, I love you's,  between them. This was the one final bonding moment between Leo and Liam, before he fell back onto the bed.

Riley watched with horror as he stared blankly at her, jerking momentarily as his breath was literally sucked from his lungs.

Bastien was holding Liam up, literally and emotionally as he watched his older brother slip from his life.

He lowered a stunned Liam into his plush, leather desk chair; still reeling from the events that just occured in front of him.

Liam stood in disbelief from the watch tower, overlooking the empty square below, a heavy feeling pooled in his stomach. He didn't dare look at his brother for fear he would do or say something he'd regret.

"Come on little brother, say something"

"What do you want me to say Leo? Thank you for running away from your duties? Thank you for leaving me to pick up after the mess you are inevitably creating? No, wait...how about this...thank you for being so fucking selfish to ask me to give up my future so you can escape from your responsibilties and place the burden on me.....yes, Leo...how can I truly ever thank you? Is that what you want me to say?

"It's not like that and you know it....Liam, man...I'm not cut out for this shit, never have been".

"You"ve never even tried....the only two things you've ever cared about besides yourself is booze and pussy".

"Thats bullshit"

"You're right.....this whole thing is nothing but a big pile of bullshit and you're too coward to admit you have fucked me over."

"Liam...whatever you think of me, it doesn't change the fact that I"m not cut out for this life....but you.....you are.....you"ve always been"

Liam shakes his head furiously, his mood becoming more somber, "Then why do I feel like you just sucker punched me in the gut?"

Leo places a hand on Liam's shoulder, contemplating his words and actions carefully, "Because its a huge burden I've unloaded on you and I know that.....but shit, I've never doubted for a second, you're the man this country needs. Just say you'll do this".

With the weight of the world on his broad shoulders and trepidation in his voice, "I don't have a choice do I? If not me, then who?"

Leo hesitantly pulled his brother to him, wrapping his arms around him, clapping his back, "I hope one day... I can make you as proud of me, as you have always made me".

"I doubt that Leo".

Liam sank deep into his chair, loudly exhaling what little air he had been holding inside. He allowed the trickle of tears to flow as he thought about his brothers' sacrifice.....Riley is Liam's everything, Leo ultimately died to protect him.

He wiped away the moisture from his face and cleared the lump in his throat. There was no time to mourn; his wife was still trapped in that room of Bradshaw's palace and it was anyone's guess how she would get out.

"Sweetheart, I'm sending help. We have a rescue team in place with our allies and Bastien just informed me they will be there soon. Can you make sure the door is locked?"

The sound of his calming voice was the first time in 24 hours she felt something other than fear. With her attempt to sit up, she groaned loudly at the stabbing pain in her chest, she was positive her ribs were broken. "I can't", was all she could utter.

Riley nodded at Liam as he continued to reassure her everything was going to be okay, vowing to get her home to him. Everything that had happened played like a whirlwind in her mind. As silence took over the room, she heard the distinct sound of her baby crying and it caught her ear.

"Nikolas?"

Riley sat rocking a sleepy Nikolas in the nursery at Valtoria, fighting his sleep with excessive determination. Even through his very vocal, little tantrum, she couldn't help but chuckle as she noticed he looked exactly like  Liam when he's angry. That furrowed brow with the crease between his eyes, the way his face reddened and his nose scrunched up.

"My little prince, I love you sweet boy, but, that kind of cry only works on your father".

As Nikolas' lips started to quiver and with his voice turning hoarse, she, too, gave into him.

Riley lifted her 3 month old son to her shoulder, rubbing circles over his tiny back, basking in his sweet baby smell. She hummed a lullaby her late mother sang,  amazed it still clung to her memories since she was so young when she passed.

Nikolas lifted his tired head briefly and she soothed him back to her. His cries softened and he became heavier in her arms.

She could never thank Liam enough for this life he made just for her. The titles, the estate, the fancy balls, the lavish lifestyle was nothing, but, this little boy and Liam's love was all she needed or wanted.

The blast of distant gunshots ripped her back to reality. She didn't flinch;  feelings, fear, emotions, shock, there was nothing, as numbness took over.

The noise became louder and closer, yet, Riley remained in her position. She waited patiently, expecting the door to burst open any moment.

"Riley? What's going on?", Liam questioned frantically.

Riley didn't hear him, she sunk deep into a world of her own; one without pain, tears or bloodshed. A smile swept across her face as Liam begged her to speak back to him.

"Baby, look at me.....what's happening....please Riley, say something!".

She remained still, closing her eyes, humming Nikolas' lullaby to herself. She could see Liam in her mind, waiting on his table when she turned around and laid eyes on him for the first time. When she told him he was going to be a father and he cried in her arms. The first time he held his son and nothing else mattered in the world.

"Riley, my love.....I need you to speak to me".

The door knob began to twist erratically as sounds of chaos and struggle carried on outside;  shouts and blasts ringing in unisom.

"Riley?", Liam cocked his head watching his wife struggle with her mind; she was so calm and placid. He watched as the lights flickered and then shut off into complete darkness. The video feed lost its connection.

Riley didn't hear the door break down, she didn't see the flashlights shine on her face, nor, hear the heavy boots approach her, she was gone.

Strong hands gently shook her, then cautiously lifted her up from the bed, stepping over Bradshaw to carry her out of the room.

She steadily passed through the halls and corridors of the palace, surrounded by dozens of uniformed men and women.

"Maxwell? Is this heaven?"

"Rise and shine little blossom, you have a big day ahead".

"Max, I just want to lay here a little longer"

"I know that, but, when have I ever left you alone?"

Riley snickers, "true.....so you came to get me?"

"Not exactly....let's just say I'm here to watch over you. The good thing about where I am now is you can never get rid of me".

"Maxwell, will I ever see you again?

"Of course, but, not for a very long time....Riley, you have so many people counting on you right now. You have to go back and kick some ass. What's coming is so much bigger than Liam".

"There's more coming? ...Maxwell I can't do this".

"Sure you can".

"I love you Maxwell"

"I love you too Blossom"

Four days later....

Liam gathered the last of his documents and strolled from his office with fire in his eyes. Taking long strides, his black leather oxfords the only sound made as he walked alone down the long corridor.

He hung his head as he paused momentarily at the door of his quarters, his queen still recovering inside. Liam touched the door, in some way hoping to gather the strength the woman behind it may pass on to him.  Her screams of terror still waking her every so often. I promise love, I'm going to make this better for you, for Nikolas...for Cordonia.

Bastien met him at the top of the staircase; the head guard taking in Liam's appearance. He was dressed in the finest suit he owned, wearing the emerald cufflinks with the Cordonian seal, Riley gave him in Shanghai and his hair perfectly smoothed back.

He was nervous, as much as his father prepared him for the threat of enemies, Constantine had never faced anything like this. There was no one to turn to, he shouldered this responsibilty himself, not only as a King, but, as a father. He would be damned if he gave up now, remembering Leo's words to him, you're the man this country needs.

He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "I'm ready", he said confidently.

The palace was quiet, the destruction was apparent all around, the lights burning dimly and the eery presence of lives lost all around him.

He stepped into the throne room, attendees and press immediatly standing to their feet, no one uttering a word. He looked every bit the leader Cordonia needed right now, while inside feeling every bit a failure as a father and husband.

He took his place at the podium, there was no usual applause, no chatter, only sniffles and eager ears longing for reassurance from their monarch. Liam stood silent for the longest time, his people understanding of it, as he looked around the room, taking in each face.

What was left of the council gathered in the front row, his eyes following in a line of each member and those who left nothing but chairs behind. Bertrand who couldn't contain his tears as a rose sat in the seat next to him where Maxwell typically sat. Drake, his arm in a cast, head bandaged, with the most defeated look Liam had ever seen him wear. The empty seat of Olivia next to him, with a scarlett ribbon, a shell shocked Kiara, Emmaline sitting in place of Landon, a distraught Adelaide, a subdued Neville, Hakim, and the rest of the row void of its normal holders.

He brought a fist to his mouth, attempting to catch himself from allowing the emotions to overtake him.

He lowered his fist and rested it on the podium, clearing his throat, in preparation to address the council and nation.

"My fellow Cordonians and esteemed members of the council....Four days ago, tragedy struck our country and has affected each of us in ways no one could ever have envisioned. My heart and mind is with each one of you, even as I, too have suffered great personal loss. While I don't have all of the answers, I do know this....your monarch will not sit idly by and give in to the demands of those behind these attacks. King Bradshaw was just one element of this, it was discovered the recently deceased Princess of Monaco was also involved in harboring the Prince....my son, who has yet to be discovered. In the grand scheme of thing, those two were just pawns for another leader.

That is why, today, I am declaring war against Monterisso. Queen Amalas.....I know you are watching right now, so hear me when I say this.....I'm coming for you. There will be no place safe for you to hide.... and I daresay, I will win. This goes for anyone else involved in assisting her.

Our allies have remained in contact and have worked tirelessly to help save our kingdom. We are down right now, but, we have faced enemies before and have come through victorius...I have no reason to believe this time will be any different.

Now if you will join me in a moment of silence for those who we have lost".

Liam thanked the crowd, declining questions and eased his way into the front row, standing before Bertrand. He embraced him, knowing his attempts at comfort were in vain and there was really nothing he could say. He knelt down before Maxwell's empty chair, biting his lip, all the training in the world unable to hold back his emotions. Drake sidled beside him, kneeling down with his uninjured arm around Liam's back. The Three Musketeers, down to two.

He stood, and held Drake for what seemed like an eternity. Liam moved forward, picking up the scarlett ribbon from the next chair, clasping it in his hands, his jaw tensing as he dropped the ribbon back to it's place.

When he was finished, he left the room and headed back to his quarters alone. He loosed his tie as he made his way up the steps and to his bedroom. He stopped at the door as Riley turned to him, dismissing her nurse before shutting the door behind him.

"Is it done?", Riley questioned, holding Nikolas' stuffed bear in her arms.

Liam nodded, "It is".

He threw his tie on the bed and poured a finger of scotch, downing it all at once. He faced his wife once more, "We'll either win this my love.....or lose everything trying".

Monterisso

Amalas allowed the thin, dainty fingers of her companion to slip under her skirt, groaning with pleasure as two fingers swept between her wet folds.

The two women were enticed by the words coming out of Cordonia, laughing with one another over the supposed threat. Liam has never been alone, Amalas has known his every move and gesture for well over a year. Even now, she is still one step ahead of him.

She lays back on the sofa with her legs wrapped around the neck of the woman who has caught her affections. She swallows hard then moans loudly as the skilled tongue laps up her juices and slides into her dripping entrance . Pleasure begins to ripple through her body and she arches her back as a thumb rubs circles over her clit. She cries out, feeling her lower abdomen tighten, her core pulsing until she is met with her release.

Both woman fall back onto the sofa, breathing heavily, clutching one another.

"I do believe this day continues to get better", Amalas said while clutching the red hair of her companion.

"Shall we celebrate our victory further?"

"Olivia, I think I have something else in mind", Amalas replies as she reaches under the sofa, eager to unleash her next plan. "You should know, I do enjoy doing things on my own".

[yukiwrites]

Byleth and Sothis, In This Together

Thanks for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse! This is more and more fun to write as it progresses ;v;) I hope you like it!

Summary: Now that they know who put the Crest Stone into Byleth’s heart and when, Sothis and the three professors are stumped on finding the reason for such action -- what could’ve driven Rhea to do such a thing? Byleth is then summoned to speak with the Archbishop...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10  - Part 11  - Part 12  - Part 13 - Part 14  - Part 15

Byleth and Manuela hadn't been long in Hanneman's office -- the three of them were still relaying all the information they had up until that moment: Rhea was unmistakingly the one who put Sothis' Crest Stone into Byleth's heart right after he was born, but for what reason?

Sothis didn't seem to believe that it was out of the goodness of her heart as Byleth apparently did, despite all of Her efforts to hide such thoughts from him. Well, neither did Manuela and Hanneman for that matter, but they were more vocal about it than Byleth's mindmate.

It wasn't as though Byleth was purposely ignoring his father's warnings about Rhea, -- be careful around her, never let your guard down, don't trust her and so on -- it was simply because, to the young professor, Rhea was a rather... complicated existence.

She had treated him with warmth from the beginning, while still keeping an invisible wall around herself. Not to mention that obviously hid the fact that she was a Child of the Goddess, an immortal being of legend -- so it was little wonder that she made herself to be unapproachable, hiding behind a mountain of secrets. Yet, she was the one who, due to unknown reasons, allowed Byleth to live by putting his heart in contact with Sothis'. She gave him the one irreplaceable friend Byleth would always carry with him.

He wanted to know why, he wanted to know so badly he could barely keep up with the conversation, but... Perhaps due to Sothis' motherly request from before the mission, he couldn't find it within himself to think of her as his coworkers did.

She was powerful and dangerous, that was the undeniable truth -- everything else could only be made certain by speaking with her.

Byleth tried saying much, but was immediately vetoed by all three of them moments before an uncertain knock was heard by the door.

"Professor Hanneman? Forgive me for dropping by so suddenly..." Dimitri's voice sounded from the corridor, making all three professors exchange curious glances, ultimately resting their gazes on Byleth, as the Blue Lions' instructor.

"Oh, what is it, my lad?" Hanneman asked from his desk, slowly rising towards the door, wondering if he should open it or shoo the boy away from where he stood. Manuela slouched on her chair, throwing one hand to the side so Hanneman would dismiss him. Byleth made a motion to get up, curious as to what his House's leader wanted.

"Ah, you needn't see me in if you do not want to, sir." Dimitri waved his hands as though the older man could see the gesture. "I was simply looking for Professor Byleth... Lady Rhea has called on him, but I have not been able to find him despite searching everywhere he could have gone, so I confess I am... overcome with worry."

At the mention of Rhea's name, all three professors froze in their tracks, their eyes wide. Sothis placed one hand over her chin in thought, nudging the back of Byleth's mind. "There's no way she knows what we found out, so you will need to hold your tongue. I shall put you on a leash if the need arises!"

The three of them once again exchanged glances, nodding to one another. Hanneman finally took the last step towards the door, unlocking it. "Worry no longer, Son. Byleth is right here," he said as he made way for the younger professor to pass.

Dimitri's shoulders visibly sagged, his worried expression softening slightly. "Professor...! It's so good to see that you are well! I thought- I didn't want to think that-"

Byleth flashed a sad smile to his student, patting him on the shoulder and silently leaving the room. The Prince followed quietly for a few steps before gasping and turning to bow in thanks to Hanneman, immediately going back to following Byleth.

He opened and closed his mouth, not knowing the proper time to speak, but afraid to put it off any longer. "Professor, ah, if you'd like, you could join me at the dining hall after your audience with Lady Rhea? You haven't eaten properly since... since it happened. Have you?" He looked like a lost puppy, his steps uncertain and his voice cracking.

Sothis commented as much inside Byleth's mind, drumming her fingers over her throne. The Professor simply took one hand to the pocket that contained his father's diary, lowering his gaze a few inches more as his shoulders followed suit.

"Forgive me..." Dimitri's voice was but above a whisper from behind Byleth's back. "I suppose it is much too soon to coax you back into the normal swing of things." He clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves squeaking in protest. "I-I am so very sorry about Sir Jeralt, Professor. I'm so sorry I couldn't do anything to help, even though I was right there."

The Professor shook his head with a low sigh. "Thank you, Dimitri. You've done more than enough by guiding the Blue Lions back safely when I couldn't. I couldn't ask more of you."

"Professor Byleth..." Dimitri looked as though he was on the verge of tears, though the only one who could see it was Sothis, from Byleth's back. "No one would blame you if you took more time to yourself. I believe that there's strength in taking the time to grieve for those we've lost -- though it's also important to remember that no matter how sad you are, eventually the tears will dry up. That's when you have to figure out what you're living for."

"What I'm living for..." Byleth repeated the words more to himself than to the prince, his mind too cluttered with all sorts of information and feelings to feel straight enough to look for a proper reason to live rather than an immediate goal.

"He's right, you know." Sothis apparead beside her friend, moving as though she could walk like he did. "Young, raw and pitiful, but right."

Dimitri spoke of the tragedy of Duscur that scarred him for the rest of his life and how he was still finding the broken pieces of himself along the way. About the guilt and duty of a survivor. About upholding a loved one's wishes after their death.

"There are tragedies occurring all around us," Sothis slid one cold hand into Byleth's," the most we can do is find our own ways to cope with them. To some, that means revenge; to others, it means forgiveness."

No amount of overwhelming information could steer Byleth out of this path etched in his mind, however. He frowned, clenching the hand Sothis held as though he could squeeze hers.

"Indeed." She said simply, jumping into the air to float. "The wicked must be punished."

Dimitri escorted Byleth all the way to the audience chamber, reluctantly excusing himself once the Archbishop made her appearance. Sothis followed suit, wanting to focus her energy into guiding Byleth through the conversation instead of making herself visible to him during the meeting.

"Don't ask about the weapons, or the past, or the Stone, or the enemy -- you can and will browse my memories of them instead." Sothis flicked his brain, metaphorically holding it with short leashes.

Rhea expressed her condolences to Byleth, bowing slightly in her grief. "Jeralt had been a friend of many years... It devastates me so to hear of his passing."

"Friend? Hardly!" Sothis sneered.

"Friends of many years?" Byleth asked almost at the same time, making Sothis shriek and grind his head with both fists in panic.

"Don't ask about this-"

"It was a long time ago -- during the days your father was still a soldier from the Kingdom." She replied readily, her tone warm despite the grief in her expression. "I saved him just as he was about to perish, which resulted in him coming back with me to the monastery and devote himself into becoming a Knight of Seiros."

"... Huh. So you're from the Kingdom! How fitting it is that you are teaching its very Prince!" Sothis commented over Rhea's voice, making Byleth squint to be able to focus on the Archbishop's words. He pursed his lips.

"If he was so devoted... why did he leave the knights?" Byleth asked tentatively, making Sothis drag her hands through her cheeks in horror.

"You're cutting it really close, you foolish child!" She paced back and forth in front of her throne, too nervous to simply sit and become a sentient voice in Byleth's mindscape.

Rhea flashed a lonely smile, clutching her hands slightly. "He... fell in love with one of the nuns of the monastery. Eventually, that love bloomed into a child -- you, dear Professor." She lowered her head. "However, there were too many... complications during your birth. Your mother begged me to save you, knowing full well that it would cost her life."

Sothis frowned. "Cost her life? Jeralt said something similar in his diary, though he only received the news of her death and your birth..."

Rhea glanced to the floor before sustaining Byleth's gaze. "He... never truly accepted the decision and ultimately stole you away from the monastery."

"Yeesh, the way she's speaking, it is as though he took something that belonged to her instead of his own child." Sothis crossed her arms in frustration, then bobbed her head to the sides. "Well, I suppose she did had reasons to be upset, considering my Crest Stone was within you, though that makes it even harder to understand the reasons behind it all. She ended up losing it for over twenty years!"

Byleth's own thoughts echoed inside his mind alongside Sothis' voice, making his eyes spin. "Who..." He shifted the weight of his body to one leg. "Who was my mother?"

Rhea pressed her lips into a thin line. "She was my... protegée."

"Protegée?" Byleth tilted his head to the side.

"You... resemble her in many ways." The Archbishop flashed a small smile. "She, too, wasn't one to express her feelings on her face, at least until she met Jeralt. Much like how you've changed since you've arrived here, so did she once she got to know your father. Their love was... hard to ignore." She said in a diplomatic tone, making both Byleth and Sothis narrow their eyes in doubt.

"What is this child doing, monitoring other people's love affairs like that?" Sothis chewed the inside of her mouth. "Did she have any connection with your mother before you were born? After all, she did give my Crest Stone to this woman's baby -- I cannot help but wonder what their relationship was. Surely it was much deeper than a simple guardian and her protegée."

"Did-" Byleth hesitated. "Did you save me because it was a plea from her or-" He watched how Rhea's eyes slowly widened as he spoke, though the end of his sentence was cut off by Alois' loud arrival.

"Pardon my intrusion! I have a report on the Knights' patrols... O-oh, Byleth, I-"

"Now! Get away from there before she gets suspicious!" Sothis urged, making Byleth shoot his head up.

"It's okay, Alois." He said in a hurried voice. "We can talk more later."

"Indeed we can." Rhea nodded solemnly, waiting for the Professor to be completely out of sight to ask for details of the patrol.

His frown deep, Byleth meant to return to Hanneman's office right away to put his (and Sothis') thoughts in order, but Dimitri, Claude and Edelgard were waiting for him at the end of the staircase.

"Professor Manuela recommended that you should have a proper meal," Edelgard said unprompted as the professor reached the last step. "So we agreed to come with you if only to keep you unbothered during your dinner."

"Well, Hanneman didn't need to tell me to come, just so you know." Claude sneered at the princess before placing himself beside Byleth. "C'mon, Teach, a warm meal's gonna make you feel less miserable."

"Claude...!" Dimitri gasped, trotting beside his friend.

"What? It's the truth! He's not gonna feel better now, but at least eating will make him feel alive!" 

[wellhellotragic]

A Poor Man’s Mantra (1/2)

Summary: Killian's life just isn't going to plan. A bad breakup and a demotion might actually be the least of his problems when he realizes that he's falling in love with his brother's new girlfriend.

A/N: Here’s part one of my submission to @csseptembersunshine. It started out based on a prompt about the brother’s Jones having lovely roommates and just took on a life of it’s own, so much so that I don’t think it even fits the prompt anymore....

Also on Ao3 if that’s more your jam

‘Another day another dollar.’ Just a poor man’s mantra. At least it had been thirteen years ago when Killian Jones joined Her Majesty's Royal Navy on his sixteenth birthday. Back when he was just a stupid child. Before he even knew the difference between a mantra and an idiom. Before he’s brother had been honorably discharged. Before he knew the love of a woman, and how her loss could absolutely break him. He’d loved his mother of course, but losing her was nothing like Milah. The ache in his heart left gaping when she told him it was over.

“Oi, you chatted up your brotha yet? I’m ready for me beauty sleep.”

Killian could only grunt as he stared at the blank document on his laptop. The blinking cursor mocking him.

Thirteen years of grit, determination, and blind loyalty gone in an instant. Thirteen years of working towards his ultimate goal gone in a flash. One ill placed fist in an admiral’s face had earned him an immediate three rank demotion from ship’s Captain to Lieutenant. He should have been thrilled to even still have a rank at all, he could have just as easily have ended up behind bars or kicked out with a dishonorable discharge to follow him until his dying days. But in that moment, it felt like a death sentence.

He couldn’t even bring himself to tell Laim, the man he shared everything with. How could he possible ever admit that he’d been having an illicit affair with a superior, much less a married one? One that Liam himself had served with and never truly approved of. How could he possibly tell his perfect brother, the man that practically raised him, that taught him what it was to be a true gentleman, that he’d nearly thrown his career away in a drunken stupor. The humiliation of having to work on the same ship he once commanded was bad enough, but telling his brother would have killed him.

Instead, he closed the laptop and climbed into bed, listening as Will did the same. ‘Another day another dollar.’ He just kept having to remind himself of the phrase he used to repeat nightly when things were at their worst. We he was cleaning out toilets and scrubbing trash cans.

Cheer up little brother. It won’t be like this forever. One day you’ll have a ship of your own and you’ll look back and remember this moment. You’ll understand what a great responsibility is it. And until then, if nothing else, just remember what our old American neighbor used to say to us with we’d finish caring for his garden: Another Day, Another Dollar.

In their case, it had been a full day of backbreaking work with only one single pound coin for them to share, but it was the beginning of Liam’s work ethic. Something he’d tried to pass on to Killian and apparently failed at. He was his brother’s only failure.

Yet another reason he couldn’t bring himself to call his brother during his precious few days at port, and why he couldn’t bring himself to type those stupid words into an email. Not when a picture of his brother’s smiling face looked back at him on his home screen. Not when his brother’s last email to him had been to tell him that he was engaged. Not when his brother’s life was perfect and his was in shambles.

As the light above Will’s bunk flickered off, Killian laid there, listening to the sounds of the ship they were on. He’d forgotten how different everything was in a room below water level. He could hear other crewmen walking around outside, could hear a toilet flushing down the hall. The knocking of the water pipes being used. Every little noise a stern reminder of how far he’d fallen.

Even the start and stopping of his bunk mate’s breathing.

“Something on your mind over there, Scarlett?”

“I- Look, I just wanted to say that it isn’t as bad as you think it is.”

He scoffed, loudly.

“Sure it’s not. I’m sharing a room with a midshipman I told off quite publicly three weeks ago for sneaking scotch aboard my ship.”

“Misunderstandings aside, I just thought you oughta know that the men on this ship still respect you more than you know. Gold’s always been a prick and it’s a wonda that no one ever keeled him off before you.”

A prick was putting it mildly. There had been rumors for years that Gold was dirty, making deals with powerful men, promises that good men had died for, but up until he’d finally met the man in person, that’s all it had ever been. Rumors. And then the man appeared in his quarters, dressed in all of his official uniforms and medals, sneering at Killian. Goading him over Milah, and how she’d always choose herself over people that cared about her. That all it took was waving a new tropical assignment under her nose to get her to leave her newest rentboy.

He tried to ignore him, but somewhere along the way that night, the rum and Gold’s insinuation got the best of him. And when he got out of the taxi, he marched right up to Gold’s door, rang the bell, and punched the man square in the face before walking back to his cab. He couldn’t even remember making it back to his room that night. He obviously had though if the men hauling him away the next morning had been any indication.

Gold had demanded his head. Wanted a full court martial but one of Killian’s old supervisors had been able to pull some strings. To keep it out of the headlines. His navy record simply reflected a breach of judgement warranting the demotion.

“Aye, but it didn’t make what I did right.”

He could almost hear Will shrug from under his sheets, but Will didn’t say anything more and eventually drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Killian rose before his alarm had sounded, much as always and readied himself for the day, putting on his uniform, feeling the weight of the new insignia on his shoulder. He made his bed just as he always did, and with a few moments to spare before head to his duty station, he gave his email a quick glance. The bulk of it was junkmail but two lines from the top he read his brother’s name.

From: Liam Jones

Subject: We need to talk

A sickening feeling came over him as he closed his computer once again and stowed it in his locker. He had waited too long and somehow his brother had found out from someone else. It shouldn’t have surprised him really. Liam was beloved and many of the men he served with still kept in touch with him. Killian was such a git.

The rest of his day was spent in a haze, taking orders from the man they transferred aboard to replace him. He still commanded a small handful of men, but most of his day was spent in the engineering room. The sweltering heat making the day drag on far longer than his twelve hour shift should have felt.

When he arrived back at his new room, he chose to skip dinner and instead to sink into his bed to finally face Liam’s email head on. He’d been dreading the thought of it all day, making himself too sick to even eat dinner. The email had moved down a few lines, buried under male enlargement junk mail gmail had failed to filter out, but the words still screamed out to him.

Taking a deep breathe, he finally clicked, prepared for the worst. And the worst he got, or at least close to it. It wasn’t what he was expecting at all, but somehow he’d almost rather Liam heard about his indiscretions instead. Belle had left. They had irreconcilable differences, a term he didn’t even know could be used outside of a divorce court. Upon further reading, it became clear that the topic of children had been their undoing. Belle wanted them right away and Liam had always been skittish on that front. No one could blame him really. Not when their mother died and their father abandoned them as children shortly after because they were just too much work. Not when they bounced around from foster home to foster home until they were each old enough to join the Navy.

To add insult to injury, he and Belle had recently purchased a large apartment together in Boston and now Liam had to solicit a flatmate to help share the expenses. Apparently his new tenant was a Boston PD cop, a transfer from somewhere in Maine.

Killian was floored by the whole thing and had no idea what he could possibly say in an email to make any of it better.

Oh, don’t worry, Liam. I’ve messed my life up far more than you have.

That would have gone over quite well. Instead he typed up a simple response, a lie really, telling him that his ship was getting ready to depart so he didn’t have much time, but somehow everything would work itself out.

Coward.

They really did leave port, a full day later and Killian spent the next six months much as he had those first three weeks. In the engineering room commanding his men. Commanding Captain Hood’s men really. He learned over that span of time that his new Captain was quite an honorable man. He took a no-nonsense approach with his position, much as Killian himself had, but the new Captain was much more relaxed, spending his down time getting to know and befriend the men aboard. They had a weekly poker game in the mess hall and all were invited. There was a monthly movie night in the makeshift chapel. Anything to boost morale. All of the things he should have done as a Captain.

He learned a lot from the man in those six months. The only thing he hadn’t figured out was how to quash his own pride. The embarrassment of his demotion still lingering like trash that hadn’t been taken out. When they docked again, he found dozens of emails from Liam waiting for him. None of them mentioning the thing he most dreaded though.

Liam and his flatmate were getting on splendidly, although things seemed a bit rocky at first. His oldest emails were full of complaints about ES leaving dishes and clothes all over the apartment. ES happened to be a girl he learned in the third email, and she liked to eat all of the food in the fridge and never replaced it.

At some point between the third and fifth emails though they two of them had worked out a system and things seemed to pick up from there. By email twenty two, Liam had started dating again, something ES insisted on, and by letter twenty four Liam had a girlfriend. His brother was a bit dodgy on the details, only that she grew up as a foster kid too and understood why things hadn’t worked out with Belle.

By email thirty three, Liam was completely smitten and using the word love. Killian was shocked. He and Milah had broken up right around the same time and he’d barely even given any thought to dating someone new, not when his heart still felt so raw. Of course, that also might have been due to the fact that he was surrounded by a large crew full of men, so there weren’t constant reminders of what he was missing walking around on the ship.

They had four days at port before they shipped out again, and Will, who’d now become a trusted confidant or sorts, insisted that Killian at least chatted with his brother. Building all of his courage, Killian dressed in the few civilian clothes he had aboard the ship and left on a day pass, wandering around the city until he found a coffee shop with public wifi.

He gave his watch a quick glance. It was just after noon, meaning that his brother would likely be getting ready for the day, and he couldn’t put off the call any longer. His finger lingered, hesitating only briefly before clicking the call button. The screen lit up as his brother’s face came into view, his surprise evident. But it wasn’t Liam’s face that caught his attention. No. It was the half dressed goddess in the background, the way the hem of her shirt peeking up enough to reveal her underwear as she reached above her head for a cereal bowl. Her long blonde hair cascading down her back in loose curls. Her porcelain legs on full display. She was an enchantress.

“Little brother? Are you there? I think the screen is frozen.”

Killian shook is head and felt his cheeks warm from the embarrassment of getting caught ogling the woman in Liam’s apartment.

“It’s younger brother,” he gritted out. “And I think the connection in this coffee shop is just a bit spotty.”

“Coffee shop? Why aren’t you calling me from your quarters?”

“We just arrived in port last night so I granted myself some leave to stretch my legs.”

Liam gave him a quizzical look, as if he were trying to solve a puzzle. Liam knew him better than anyone. Killian didn’t take leave, not usually, not when there were supplies to restock and maintenance issues to tend to.

“I think the bigger question is why is there a half dressed woman in your kitchen?”

Liam glanced behind him to the kitchen area and muddled a curse under his breath.

“Emma, love, would you like to meet my brother?”

“What? Oh shit!” The speed with which she grabbed the cereal box off of the counter to cover herself would have been comedic if Killian hadn’t been so mesmerized by her. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t realize we had company. I’ll just, uh, go put some pants on.”

And with that she was out of the view of the camera, and Killian was left with his jaw nearly on the floor.

“Sorry about that. Emma is my flatmate, and we’ve become rather close since she moved in.”

And then it all made sense. Liam had a girlfriend, one he’d described in his emails as having English rose skin and hair as light as the sun itself. He should have expected it really. His brother was a catch. Why wouldn’t a beautiful woman want to be with him? Still, it did little to ease the pang he felt. His brother led an enchanted life, and it was just another reminder of how high the bar had been set, and how Killian would never be able to measure up.

They spoke for a while longer, Emma coming out again fully dressed that time and talking to him for a few minutes as Liam finished getting ready. Killian learned that she was quick witted and had a lot of fire in her. The perfect match for his brother really. He watched as they discussed dinner plans and something in him longed for that type of intimacy. Even when he’d been with Milah, their time together was spent hidden away, just stolen moments. Nothing like what his brother had, not once, but twice now.

Killian left Liam with the promise that he’d try to write more often, and that he’d call him again in a few months when they docked again. Liam never brought up mention of his demotion, but he had asked a number of questions about the ship, leaving Killian to wonder if he really didn’t know, or if he was just giving him time to bring it up in his own way.

The rest of his day was spent in a bar, downing rum until he could barely see straight, trying to drown out the voices in his head. The ones that told him he was a loser. That he was worthless. The ones mocking him for all of his bad choices. Even the ones telling him he should feel ashamed for liking his brother’s girlfriend. The one reminding him he’d never be good enough.

At some point Will arrived and helped haul him back onto the ship. He woke early the next morning with the hangover from hell, and the guilt from the night before. Unable to go back to sleep, he got up and started on the day, hoping the nausea and headache would go away if he just ignored them both long enough. He spent the next few days much the same way, using work as a way to distract himself from all of his dark thoughts.

On his last night at port, he returned to the same coffee shop, still not ready for Liam to catch sight of his new accommodations, and dialed up his brother one last time. When his brother answered, it was in a full business suit, not surprising considering Liam often wore them to work, but what did seem strange was catching sight of Emma in a tight red leather dress.

“Sorry brother, I hate to do this given your last night in port, but I’m actually running quite late for my date right now.”

Killian gave him a small sad smile, realizing why they were both so dressed up and excused himself, but not before Emma came to the screen to say hello and wish him well.

He went to bed that night thinking of her, or the limited conversation they’d had a few nights before. Of how easy it was to talk to her and how she just felt like a kindred spirit. He went to bed hating himself for falling for a woman he barely even knew. One that was off limits.

For the next five months, he poured all of his time and energy into to work, doing anything he possibly could to not think of Emma Swan. To not think of how she’d feel wrapped around him, next to him in bed, of how she’d taste. Of the way he hated his brother for having what he wanted.

At some point Emma had gotten his email address from Liam and starting writing to him regularly. He was shocked the first time he saw the emails, just during a brief jaunt at a small port off of India. They were just random letters telling him little anecdotes from her day, of how much Liam missed him. Little things to tease his brother about later, like how he cried when she forced him to watch Notting Hill, or that he’d recently bought a hair dryer and diffuser to help his curls stay intact. She was amazing, and she’d never be his. He’d do very well to remember that.

So instead, he continued to think of the ship and the crew. Anything to keep her off his mind. It didn’t help that four months in Captain Hood came to him, to him to tell his recommendation for Killian’s promotion had been turned down. That given Gold’s new promotion to Admiral of the Fleet, he’d likely never get promoted. That he’d never command a ship again.

That had sealed it. His military career as he knew it was over. He wouldn’t reenlist when his time was up. There was no point. At thirty years old, his life had completely fallen apart. And for the next two months, every night as he went to bed, he whispered to himself ‘ another day, another dollar’ over and over again to help get him through.

There was little fanfare as he left the ship on that last day. He waited until Captain Hood officially released him, gathered his things and left with a quick goodbye to Will. The taxi ride from the dock to the train station was quick enough. The train ride from Portsmouth to London Heathrow wasn’t too bad either, aside from a rather stinky fellow sat two rows up. The subsequent wait for his plane to board and for his flight itself was damn near eternal though as thoughts rushed through his head. He hadn’t even told Liam that he was getting out, or that he was moving to Boston. He was too afraid.

Instead, he pulled out his computer when he arrived in Boston, jotted down the address his brother had given him when he and Belle had first bought the apartment, and handed it to the uber driver. The drive to Liam’s was lovely though. He could understand why Liam had picked such a place to live. It was old, not as old of England of course, but much of the city reminded him of where they’d grown up. It was the closest way to get a fresh start in a familiar place.

When he pulled up to Liam’s door though, he just couldn’t bring himself to knock. Too many demons screaming at him, so he wandered around the city, pulling his small carry on suitcase and shoulder bag with him. Everything he owned in life small enough to carry on his person. He wandered around until he feet began to blister. Then he wandered into a pub for some liquid courage. All he got was drunk though, and four hours later he returned to that same red door, knocking with the gentleness of a rhinoceros.

“Killian?”

And there she was. He managed to somehow forget about her. That she lived there with his brother. That she was even more gorgeous in person in her tank top and yoga pants with her hair tossed up in a ponytail. That she was taken…

With no more thought than his rum stupered mind could give him he whispered to her that she was beautiful before planting a sloppy kiss on her lips, just before passing out, stone cold drunk in her entryway.

[ardenttheories]

With the current update, a few pretty little thoughts have been rumbling around in my head. I definitely think that my previous theory that Dirk isn’t actually the Ultimate Self holds a little more weight with these past updates, particularly when you consider that his biggest hangup as explained by Brain Ghost Dirk is an incredible Destruction of Heart - evidence that he’s still Destroying his own sense of Self and Identity by declaring that none of them can ever have happy endings and that, ultimately, they have no capacity to be normal. 

How can you be the Ultimate Self when you’re so throroughly destroying your Self?

But that isn’t what today is about. Not entirely, anyway. No, what we’re focusing on today is a beautiful nugget of thought I had some three-ish days ago, following along the lines of what a Prince of Heart is.

Destroyers of Heart. Killers of the Self. At their worst, they eradicate all Individuality, all Identity - they create Splinters quite simply by fracturing their own Soul and splitting it up into itty bitty pieces. They take the core of a person and they snap it, crush it up, make something else and leave it behind. 

They take the very concept of a person, and they erase it from existence (as seen with Lil Cal, because we can easily say that in making Cal’s soul the individual components - Caliborn, Gamzee, Equius, AR - lose their Individuality, the things that make their existences unique, and are therefore erased entirely in place of this being that is Cal) or displace it and remove the identity (as seen with Aranea; if Brain Ghost Dirk had completed his removal of her soul, where would she have gone? Wherever she ended up wouldn’t have been her, and her whole sense and understanding of herself would have changed - or, perhaps, she simply would have been eradicated from existence).

Of course, what we have to consider as well is that a Prince of Heart’s Splinter, by warrant of being a piece of the Prince’s original soul, is also a Prince of Heart. At least in theory. 

We also have to consider that the original Prince is also the Splinter’s Self; they’re connected by Soul, fractured as it may be, and while their piece if uniquely their own and can develop as they exist, that tie never actually fades. This is why Dirk can, as his “Ultimate” Self, superimpose himself on the will of ever Splinter and take away their narrative importance. He’s the original, the strongest, and they are all simply parts of him that he can freely use. 

Except, of course, that we have one Splinter that isn’t wholly Dirk. One who has found his way into the unreality of the Candy timeline, and secured a small piece of the narrative for himself. 

Brain Ghost Dirk, for all intents and purposes, is as much a product of Jake as he is a Splinter of Dirk. Dirk is the basis, the foundation; but only so far as Jake perceives Dirk to be. Funny, how this Dirk isn’t nearly as maniacal as Ultimate Dirk. There’s more a sense of grounded acceptance than anything else, less of a hatred towards Jake as a symbiotic relation to him. There’s moments where he maybe reveals more than he wants to:

DIRK: People like us don’t get happy endings. 

JAKE: Is...is that really how dirk felt the whole gosh darned time?

DIRK: It doesn’t matter.

And, yes, this could be him brushing Jake off, a facile remark to quickly sway along the conversation towards something more relevant, but the next panel seems to hold a distinct awkwardness. Something that holds more of a confession than a callous slide along. 

This Dirk is Dirk as Jake remembers him to be. He even admits this to some degree - that he doesn’t always know which parts of him are Dirk thoughts and which are Jake thoughts. Nor does he seem to be entirely proud of the fact that it is a Dirk though. It’s not a consensus of “this is right and you should listen”, it’s “yeah, sometimes I struggle with figuring out which parts of me are you and which parts are the big man upstairs”. 

He’s definitely still undeniably Dirk. He says nothing matters because they’re gods, because the world comes first at the expense of all else, even personal happiness, and being a hero means making those sacrifices. 

But he also absolutely flirts with Jake the literal first moment he can - “Not to say the sloppy drunk look isn’t working for me, because it absolutely is” - and doesn’t that just go entirely against what Dirk does to Jake in Meat? What happened to “I’ll never let you hurt me like that again”?

He’s absolutely still Jake enough, too, to see everything in Candy as still oddly relevant. He doesn’t appear and immediately try to disappear, to make himself dissipate because he exists in an irrelevant timeline. Nor does he even suggest that this is a split timeline - that something here isn’t right and that they need to find a way to the true ending. 

What does he say instead?

DIRK: We’ve had this conversation before, dingus. I’m you. And I’m me. But I only exist because of your powers. The fact that I’m manifesting here, in the new universe, outside of a dream, is evidence in itself for just how absolutely boned you are.

DIRK: What are you doing? There’s a war happening. All of your friends are out there fighting, and you’re just here, what...dusting?

DIRK: Taking care of a house that nobody actually uses?

DIRK: You’ve been a useless sack of shit for two decades. I’m here to kick your ass back into active duty.

All things that suggest that this Dirk sees the Candy timeline as something Real and Relevant, is acting on Jake’s own personal desire to do something. This isn’t a Dirk that sees things as some wider game, or believes that there’s a point to plot and relevancy. 

He’s disconnected from Ultimate Dirk enough to host none of Ultimate’s memories and plenty of his own, and he’s enough of Jake to be mired in the unimportance of a long-dead timeline. It’s completely likely that he’s locked out of everything to do with the Meat timeline and that his existence is just another show of how immediately irrelevant things appear in Candy (he is, after all, a very irrelevant Dirk) - and that means he’s got no idea what Ultimate Dirk is trying to do. Connected enough to think like him, yes, but it’s also implied that Dirk has always sort of thought like this, that it’s not unique to Ulimate. 

He’s Dirk enough to know that sacrifices have to be made and that being a hero means not being happy, but Jake enough, it seems, to try edging towards that sort of better ending anyway. 

So, lets recap. We have a Dirk that isn’t wholly Dirk, who thinks enough like him but is still contained within the irrelevancy of Candy and not actively flipping shit about it. A Dirk who, by all intents and purposes, is still very much a Prince of Heart with suitable Princely powers, as seen from his time within the Game. A Dirk with the ability to Destroy Souls and the Self as much as any other Dirk, who is tied to the wellbeing of Jake English. 

Allow me to posit the idea, then, that Brain Ghost Dirk ends up being our hero. 

What else could possibly Destroy the “Ultimate” Self? Only another Prince of Heart could possibly be able to completely erase all imprints of Ultimate from the timeline. (Of course that isn’t true, but it’s the most poetic and, I find, the most satisfying conclusion to come across). It’s literally what they’re made to do; to Destroy the Self and all it contains even down to the infinitesimal components. 

Another Dirk, one gifted with narrative relevancy, allowed to flourish in this irrelevant timeline, already pushing towards plot without going too damn far. One with all the powers of Dirk but - so far - without the overbearing Epilogue Dirk mentality. One that’s more aligned with what we knew of Dirk before all of his corrupted development, and who will likely continue to be this way since most of him is founded on what Jake perceives Dirk to be. One who can’t suddenly go too far because he can only know what Jake knows. 

This would bring that old prophecy full circle as well. That one where Jake was meant to be the hero all along, the one to take down the big bad. Lets suggest, then, that Brain Ghost Dirk - as a facet of Jake - does the deed. It’d be poetic both in that sense, and in the sense that Dirk Destroying himself is the ultimate show of a True Prince of Heart. 

He’d have reason to do it, too. Jake’s goals are essentially his goals, and he pushes Jake to do what he’s always wanted to do but could never achieve alone. If the two timelines somehow came together, and Jake was made aware of what’d happened in Meat and who Ultimate Dirk was... There’s a chance that, combined, they’d think Ultimate Dirk is bullshit enough to need taking down. 

Or, even better. Since Brain Ghost Dirk seems not to care about the irrelevancy of this world, lets imagine he does find a relatively happy ending. One where he eventually becomes aware of “Ultimate” Dirk, or where Ultimate poses some sort of threat. As the one Dirk who’d found a happy ending, however relevant or irrelevant it might be, he might not be so willing to give it up. 

Because, hopefully, he’s enough of Jake to eventually see everything that Ultimate Dirk is doing and think it’s an unjust cause rather than a necessary one. 

It would, of course, also allow the potential for redemption. A Prince of Heart doesn’t have to actively destroy the Soul or kill it, either. That’s just one incredibly powerful, incredibly terrifying prospect of the Classpect. Brain Ghost Dirk could easily just Destroy the “Ultimate” Self. Strip Dirk back to bare basics and force him to live through the consequences of everything he’s done, confiscate the narrative and ensure that Ultimate is no longer an issue. 

He doesn’t have to Destroy everything about the main Dirk. Just the parts that are making him a villain - the same way Dirk did to himself in order to justify becoming Ultimate in the first place. 

So, while this latter part was a little more fanciful, I still think the core idea remains. Brain Ghost Dirk is still a Prince of Heart, and Princes of Heart are wired to Destroy the Self. The Ultimate Self isn’t spared from this - if anything, it’s even more at risk. It’s the conglomeration of all Selves, the perfect (supposedly) unity of Identity. A Prince of Heart can have a field day with what that means.

(The way Ultimate Dirk already has, if you consider that he’s just overwritten every other Self with his own Identity rather than become all of them in one unique bit. But again that’s me being highly skeptical that a Prince of Heart can even achieve true Ultimate Self status. Something like it, maybe, or what they think it means to be Ultimate, almost definitely. But to actually be the perfected, unique, wonderous amalgamation of Selves living in harmony? Hell no.).

He could very much be our final hero at the end of it, or at least work towards amping Jake up to that goal. I would assume that’s why he’s suddenly relevant again, why he’s managed to slip through the net. And how perfectly ironic would it be, at the end, if Dirk’s taken down by one of the Splinters he always said felt suffocating? One of the Splinters he’s told us, directly, that he’s no longer afraid of?

[joiedecombat]

Maia/pyrrhic? :D

SO THIS ONE KIND OF EXPLODED, THANKS

It is suitably angsty.

pyrrhic - won at too great a cost

“Commander?”

Blinking her way out of the downward spiral of her thoughts felt like stepping out of a dark tunnel. Odessen’s daylight fell softly over the wooded mountainside and the familiar outlines of the Alliance base, with none of the uneasy quality of the artificial light of Iokath, but just now to Maia even this much seemed too bright.

Pushing back the impulse to rub her eyes, she turned to find Lana standing expectantly at her elbow. Behind her, the landing had gone quiet; a handful of people moved outside the base, techs going about their work, a pair of troopers speaking to one another in voices muted by distance, but the noise and bustle of personnel offloading supplies and equipment from the Gravestone had at some point ceased.

With sudden chagrin, Maia realized just how long she’d been standing there lost in thought.

If Lana was at all perturbed by her inattention, she had the grace not to let on. Lana, Maia thought ruefully, could give more than a few Jedi lessons on patience - present company included. 

The Sith-gold eyes regarding her held only polite concern. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Maia offered the other woman an apologetic look. “Sorry. I was just a little preoccupied.” 

“I’d imagine so. The events on Iokath have given all of us a lot to process.” 

Maia smiled wanly at the understatement.

“I’ve made inquiries,” Lana went on, “and so far it seems like nothing out of the ordinary occurred while we were away. I took the liberty of beginning an in-depth sweep of the base for surveillance devices - we were nearly due for a routine check in any case, but given our information leak, a more in-depth search is clearly needed.”

She paused for a moment, seeming to wait for Maia to reply, but when no reply came she added, “All of your command staff will also be thoroughly investigated, as we discussed.”

“…Right.” The word left Maia in a sigh. “So much for giving trust to receive trust, I guess.”

Lana’s voice softened. “It’s unfortunate,” she said. “But we can’t afford to sit idle.”

“No, you’re right. I hate to think of anyone in the Alliance turning traitor, but…”

(“BLINDED BY DUTY. DISTRACTED BY TRUST. YOU DID NOT SEE THE BLADE TO YOUR NECK. THE RAGE IN YOUR SHADOW.”)

The metallic voice reverberated unbidden in her memory. Maia flexed her fingers, opening and closing her hand at her side as she remembered the painful jolt of energy coursing through muscle and nerve, the moments before consciousness had fled.

The evidence of Iokath spoke for itself.

(“YOU ARE BETRAYED.”)

Meeting Lana’s eyes squarely, she said, “I need to know how this happened.”

“We’ll find the one responsible,” Lana promised. “The moment I know anything, you’ll know.”

“Thanks, Lana.” Subsiding into quiet for a moment, Maia looked away across the canyon, watching the haze of mist curl amidst the distant trees. “Has there been any news out of the Republic?”

She felt rather than saw Lana start beside her at the abrupt change of topic, could picture without having to see the faint surprise flash over her face before shifting into a look of understanding. “Not yet. I expect the chain of command in disarray at the moment.”

That happens when you kill the Supreme Commander of the entire armed forces. She exhaled, a fruitless effort to expel the bleak thought from her mind.

“Theron would have more direct sources of information on the current state of affairs,” Lana said, ”but…”

Maia shook her head, forestalling the rest of what Lana was going to say. “No, it’s all right. The boot’s bound to drop soon enough anyway.” 

And for all that Theron was doing his best to bury himself in work, asking him to investigate the response to his father’s death seemed like nothing but adding insult to injury. She’d done enough damage as it was. There was no sense in piling needless cruelty on top of it.

“We have our own house to get in order before that happens. Commander–”

She closed her aching eyes against the Odessen sunlight, brought up both hands to press her fingertips against her eyelids.

“Maia.” At the gentle press of a touch settling on her shoulder, she let her hands drop from her face and looked up to find Lana regarding her with concern. “If you need to talk…”

“What’s your evaluation of how things went on Iokath?”

This time she saw Lana’s eyes widen, her expression faltering into uncertainty.

“Your honest evaluation,” Maia pressed. “Please, Lana.”

Lana let out a slow breath, seeming to gather her thoughts. “We were at a disadvantage before we landed,” she began at last. “If we - if I had been more vigilant, we might have recognized the trap sooner, perhaps even avoided it altogether.”

“…you know I’m not blaming you.” It came out in a murmur, almost carried away by the breeze.

“I know.” No hesitation. The burnished gold of Lana’s eyes held her gaze, direct and unwavering. “Regardless, once the Empire and the Republic had both established a military presence, escalation was unavoidable. You succeeded in neutralizing the Tyth superweapon before either side could claim it, almost certainly preventing incalculable loss of life. In that sense, I believe we can consider Iokath a win. Not an unqualified victory,” she allowed, “but a win nonetheless.”

Maia stood very still, digesting what Lana had said. There was no denying any of the facts as they’d been stated, and yet…

She looked away over the canyon again, trying to ignore the searing echo of lightsaber against lightsaber that buzzed in her ears. “I think the cost might have been too high.”

“Jace Malcom’s death was his own doing. Not yours.”

The air hitched out of her, almost a laugh. “It’s not that simple.”

“You can’t hold yourself responsible for his choices.”

“Choices he made because of the decision I made, when I chose the Empire over the Republic.” Maia shook her head in a short, vehement jerk. “I might not have pulled the trigger myself, but how can I possibly pretend I’m not responsible for his death? To say nothing of the lives I did take - Republic soldiers, Jedi–!”

“You were in an impossible position,” Lana interrupted her, quiet but firm. “Whatever you chose meant breaking faith with someone. If the ultimate fault lies anywhere, it’s with the one who created the situation in the first place by luring all of us into confrontation.”

Maia could find no response to that, caught between the sense that Lana’s reasoning wasn’t entirely wrong, and the conviction that she was, at the same time, very much not right.

“It may not be any consolation, but…” That ‘but’ hung in the air, gently prompting, until Maia lifted her head to meet Lana’s eyes again. “I, for one, appreciate that you don’t allow old grudges to guide your decisions. I always have.”

She swallowed, managed a halfhearted smile. “I try, anyway.”

“You do more than most.”

There should’ve been some comfort in it, however cold. The more Maia tried to reassure herself, though, the more the cynical voice in the back of her thoughts began to sound like Theron’s: So, how’s the view from the high ground?

Lana must have read something of it on her face, because she grasped Maia’s upper arms as though to hold her steady. “I know all of this has been difficult,” she said. “I wish I could tell you that you made the right call, but I’m afraid only time can truly judge any of our actions. The full scope of the consequences may never be clear in our lifetimes.”

“…Remind me in the future not to ask for your honest evaluation unless I’m sure I’m ready to hear it.”

“However,” Lana continued sternly. “What I do know for certain is this: your decision on Iokath wasn’t reached lightly. Like every other decision you’ve made as commander of the Alliance, you chose thinking of what would do the most good. It’s why I’ve followed you all this time. And it’s why there’s no one I’d have trusted more to make that call.”

She meant it only as reassurance, Maia knew, but even so the pressure of Lana’s faith in her came down on her shoulders like a physical weight. It took all her effort not to shudder.

“Thanks, Lana,” she managed to say.

The grip on her upper arms squeezed gently before Lana released her and took a step back. “For now,” she said, “you should try to get some rest.”

Before the next crisis hits. She didn’t say it; she didn’t have to. “Probably,” Maia agreed, and drew in a slow breath. “If there are any new developments in the next few hours…”

“I’ll let you know at once.”

Maia nodded. There didn’t seem to be much else to say. With Lana’s somber gaze upon her, she cast one more look off across the canyon, searching the distant wilderness for answers she knew it couldn’t possibly hold.

Then she turned and made her way inside.

She’d meant to make for her quarters, but as the lift descended slowly farther into the base, the idea of closing herself in alone with her thoughts filled Maia with growing dread. Halfway across the War Room she changed her course, turning for the corridor that would lead her to the Force-users’ enclave instead. Maybe in that sanctuary, she’d be able to find some clarity in meditation - and if she couldn’t, at least she could find distraction.

With this thought occupying her mind, she rounded the corner and nearly plowed headlong into someone coming the other way.

He bit off a curse, fumbling the datapad he’d been reading. Entirely on reflex, Maia caught it just as it slipped from his hands entirely. 

“I’m so sorry–”

Halfway through blurting out the apology, she finally looked up. The rest of the words died unspoken in her throat, conscious thought abandoning her completely as she found herself eye to eye with the one person she wanted most and least to see.

Theron made a quiet noise, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “…hey.”

He looked awful. It was the first thought that surfaced in her mind as she stood there struggling to recover some kind of equilibrium - even in the diffuse light of the underground hallway, she could see far too clearly the fatigue that lined his face. His fascinating eyes, normally so keen, had gone dim and full of shadows, and he couldn’t seem to meet her gaze. 

(“Your dreams are almost as bad as mine.”)

Belatedly, Maia realized she was still holding his datapad. “Ah,” she said lamely, offering it back to him. “This–”

“–Yeah.” Just as awkwardly, he gripped the datapad between both hands. “Thanks.”

Then silence. The air between them felt thick enough to suffocate on.

How had things ended up like this?, she wondered helplessly. She’d never found talking to Theron difficult before. If anything, in those early days on Rishi and Yavin 4 it had been almost too easy, so much that she’d found it a little unsettling at times how natural it felt to work with him, to just talk to him about anything or about nothing at all.

Yet now the silence stretched like a gulf between them. Iokath, the Republic, the Empire, Jace Malcom’s death… all of it combined into a gaping wound Maia had no idea how to mend. She had to make it right somehow, but try as she might the words wouldn’t come.

Anything she could think to say just seemed hollow. A bandage for her own feelings, not his.

Even so, she had to do something before the distance grew too wide to bridge. “Theron,” she began, only for the shrilling of a holocom to split the air and send both of them grabbing reflexively for their personal comm units.

“Sorry.” Theron mumbled it, his eyes turned downward to the blinking holocom in his hand. “I’ve been waiting for this contact.”

Maia let out a breath, accepted that the moment was lost. “Of course,” she said. “Don’t let me keep you.”

He nodded and turned away. For the space between one breath and the next, he seemed to hesitate - but then the comm shrilled again and Theron lengthened his stride, hurrying off down the hall until he was lost to sight.

I have to fix this, Maia thought as she stared after him, alone in the empty corridor.

The problem was, she wasn’t at all sure that she could.