#((this is prob micaiah in sorens dream i realized. spicy. will they or wont they wake up? c:))

[frauleindermorgen]

conscious only of my own happiness

It takes two nights before you finally settle into the village enough to relax and enjoy a full nights’ rest. Dreams come to you readily, but you find yourself lucid in them, able to control your own body and interact with the world. And it’s a paradise. Everything you could possibly want is at your fingertips, even loved ones who have long-since departed from the world are here and whole.  [...] with a twist! for @atypicalsenerio

It isn’t a typical job for the Greil Mercenaries, though Micaiah supposes she can’t really know that having been with them for a little less than a year; though they certainly are not a typical band of their profession in her opinion at least, else they never would have thought to take in she and Sothe when they were mere stowaways.

(Micaiah had felt uneasy that entre boat ride, and for some reason Sothe being near her – telling her he’d protect her – had only made it worse. She’s thankful for the distraction being discovered had provided, and even more thankful they had been kept onboard at all).

She isn’t even sure why they should be making for the capitol of Daein if this medallion they are transporting is linked to a temple in Begnion of all places, but she can put the clues together that it has something to do with Commander Ike’s father. Neither he or Mist have been the same since Greil’s passing, and when Ike had told the party that he was in fact also born in that cold country the pieces had seemed to fit.

She just isn’t sure she wants to be in Nevassa, palace or no. It’s odd – moving through the streets, looking at how things have changed since the plague – Micaiah feels like there should be warmth or nostalgia welling up within her but when she looks all she sees are unknown faces. Sothe takes her hand and Mist and Ilyana ask if she’s been eating enough – Micaiah forgets about it for a time, here with her family is all the warmth she needs.

Titania and Ike are the ones who do most of the talking in the Daein royal palace as both seem to have an in with the General Tauroneo who stands proudly at the prince Soren’s side, the dowager queen a quiet but regal presence on his other. She is introduced as the group’s tactician though and does her best to nod and look the part.

(Briefly, her eyes meet with the crown prince’s then despite herself and she feels like she’s on that boat again. Feels motion sick. She hopes she does not let it show.)

Even after they are welcomed as guests the feeling does not fade entirely, and Micaiah finds it truly perplexes her. There is nothing wrong with Prince Soren, she reasons, why just as the rest of her countrymen revere him so too should she be thankful! It was Ashnard before him who had brought about the plague Micaiah and Sothe had narrowly escaped by murdering his father in cold blood; they knew that from official magic documents and the dowager queen’s attestations, and only with the birth of a rightful, innocent heir was the goddess’s wrath appeased. Micaiah doubts none of this.

She just feels lost. Lost in a palace she’s never been to but knows all too well.

“My apologies,” Micaiah murmurs, keeping her eyes downcast when she and Prince Soren meet again by chance outside the doors of the royal library, “I hadn’t meant to leave my chambers, your Highness. I merely…”

Thought they were in another wing entirely? Because for some reason Micaiah remembers sleeping in a bed of resplendent silk near the royal wing – ridiculous, she wants to laugh at even herself.

“I think I’m lost,” she says finally, and looks up slightly. Her hands are clasped together – a nervous habit she never quite got rid of, and for some reason her right hand stings. Funny. She’d never minded the cold before, but perhaps she should acquire some gloves if they are to stay here any longer. Micaiah had simply never thought to cover her hands before.