#IM FALLIN BEHIND READING FRIENDFICS AND TAGGING [WHEEZING]

[windupnamazu]

will you catch me if i should fall?

ffxivwrite2020 #04: clinch || fills || ao3 mirror

⮞ wol/g’raha. 1248 words. ⮞ «balefire»'s circus au! ⮞ hold me closer, tiny dancer

“to hold fast or firmly”

"You know," G'raha mulled over the fluttering of silk with every practiced turn of his muse above him as she flipped upside down, one leg pointed up at the ceiling while she arched her back to look at him curiously. "Most people would ask someone if they're afraid of heights before sweeping them up to the ceiling when they first meet."

The music was swelling behind them as Lunya broke from her routine, twisting out of her ankle hold to wrap her ribbons around her thighs instead. She tilted forward, spiralling in the air and falling down, down, down, a move that always left their audiences gasping each stop on tour, before she caught herself flat in her silks at his eye level, a beckoning hand outstretched to him.

"I'm not most people, Raha," she reminded him with a dazzling grin, her expression brighter than the lights strung from the sweeping canvas overhead. Gold glitter sparkled in her ponytail and in a smudge on her nose, the aftermath of an accident with Urianger and his carbuncle that morning, and it sparkled like little motes of sunlight on a sea of white clouds. "And you love me for that."

"Of course," he agreed with no hesitation as he stepped toward her, reveling in how she still flushed dark with embarrassment even though she was the one to set up the admission. "Though I dare say 'tis good for both of us that I hold no fear of high places. Imagine our acts without my handsome visage lighting up the stage."

Lunya nodded quite cheerfully as she shifted in her suspension, twilight eyes crinkling with mirth when he reached out and took her hand, pulling her across the gap between them and hooking his elbow behind the back of her knee. "Oh yes, there'd simply be no point in seeing a show by the famed Cirque d'eorzea without the Crystal Exarch."

His laughter in turn was low enough to be a purr rumbling in his chest as he leaned up to press his face to her neck. "Well, I've heard his Lady Luck's beauty is unsurpassed across Aldenard and even beyond the sea." She giggled, fondly tapping the bottom of his chin.

Mor Dhona's aetherial humidity in summer didn't quite compare to the heat in the moment as he held her, tilting his head up to hers, the softness of her stomach warm against his chin, her lips searing affection to the crown of his head. He adjusted then, wanting to kiss the light in his hands—

"OI, LOVEBIRDS!" Seven hollered from behind the spotlights, swinging one to shine directly at them. On the opposite side of the tent, Majj and Nyneve, eager to take their turns playing resident clown, wolf-whistled in unison. "HAVE SOME RESPECT FOR YOUR ELDERS! NO KISSIN' IN MY RING! WHAT IF ELWIN SEES?"

The couple both made grumbled noises of malcontent over the chortling of the small handful of friends watching the display, but before Lunya could look over her shoulder and yell back "eat shit, old man!" the tent flap swung open.

"Your ring?" was Alisaie's indignant snap when she entered, followed by a very insistent, very pointed "he's right! No public displays of affection in our circus! Especially from you two! Stop being gross!" at Lunya and G'raha. The technician's section of the tent flew into an uproar as the loudest of their three little ringmasters swept in with a threat to give every single member of the cirque a noogie as collective punishment for 'lèse-majesté' (where was she getting these ideas anyway?!), which just had Seven howling even more about there being no respect for the elderly beneath this bigtop, to which an unbothered Mimi reminded him he was only in his forties and therefore not eligible for the seniors’ discount at Haurchefant's concession stand.

Following in the wake of the red flurry that was Alisaie, Ryne and Alphinaud were the next to show up by the entrance, each holding half of the stack of freshly printed fliers Alisaie was supposed to bring in herself. Ryne gave Lunya an apologetic smile and shy wave when the girl spotted them in the center of the stage, and Alphinaud looked simply exhausted as he went to stop his twin from using someone's wayward practice poi to bludgeon one or more of their crew members.

Lunya and G'raha, against the blinding light in their faces, sighed in unison. Leave it to their adopted family to burn all their energy during practice. Someone—Cid was the only option, really—finally took pity on them and swung the spotlight back in place, and Lunya undid her silks, flipping around until she could gracefully plant her feet on the crash mat.

Some of the others were starting to peek into the main tent, drawn by the shrieks of laughter. Y'shtola looked in long enough to decide that Seven wasn't going to need first aid after Alisaie was done tickling him to death and kept walking, but the more curious members of the troupe were taking seats in the benches. One of them was Sati, who all but tumbled into the ring when she came in, stubby tail twitching as she bounced up to them.

"Oh, no," she whined, looking miserably between Lunya and G'raha. "Did I miss your duet practice? I've been waiting to watch it all day!"

"Hanami was telling her how hard you've been practicing, though vaguely," Thancred announced as he followed up behind her, twirling a knife in hand. A sly grin took over his face as he took up a spot on the edge of the ring, nodding to G'raha in greeting. "Well. How hard Lunya's been practicing. You know your job was supposed to be spotting, not seducing, G'raha?"

"You know all about that kind of thing, huh?" Lunya teased back, rolling her eyes at Thancred's embarrassed scratch at the back of his neck, his wrist brushing against the moon earring he wore—Zaya's handiwork. "I just finished my solo silks, Sati, you didn't miss anything. Are you up for a flight, Raha?"

"As always." G'raha grinned, kicking off his shoes and climbing onto the mat with her. He pulled one of the silks to him, wrapping it over his wrist and around his back, crossing it over his heart as Sati scuttled away to sit down by Thancred, eyes wide and a broad smile already on her face while the technicians stopped their happy chaos long enough to queue up the next orchestrion roll. "And never fear, I've done my stretches already. I'll only bruise a bit should I fall."

"I wouldn't let you go for anything, dearest Exarch," Lunya assured him with a laugh, bold and clear. "Just hold on tight." G'raha's grip on her hand was warm and soft, like the sands of Costa del Sol, like the summer winds of La Noscea and the sunsets over Vylbrand. Looking into his face was like coming home, and not for the first time she was beyond grateful the cirque brought them together beneath this striped ceiling and into the loving arms of her second family.

As the first notes began to resonate through the tent, through the canvas walls and dusty light bulbs, over the wooden rows of seats, around the ring and the faces of those who brought them this far, G'raha bowed deeply to her, crimson eyes bright and full of love. "Of course, my lady. My life has always been yours."