#i wonder if he ever looks at her and thinks about zojja

[kehideni]

Song i listened to while making this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nUz5pDWtjfA

(sush i know it doesn’t exactly fit as it’s about a ghost visiting his son, but the vibe is similar enough)

Ho boi... here comes the letter, it’s long:

 Taimi,

Honestly i don’t even know what i want to say, there are too many things i could talk about. From your condition to who i really am... this is why i write this letter in the first place though.

 Because everything i have to say is just too much, also whenever i try to talk about them i choke up. It’s funny isn’t it? “The Commander” chokes up on words. I guess this is a good place to start, did you know that “Commander” is just one of my titles? Just one of my identities? I know you know my name but do you know who that is? I used to know.

The fact is i had to sacrifice a lot of things for Tyria. Hence the Globe i gave you.

“Beasteye Denalien” is my full name, but i prefer to be called The Commander, have you ever wondered why? It’s because “Denalien” is buried far too deep in my past. Denalien was an Ash Legion charr cub, he had a few things in common with you, such as being a sort-of-orphan (long story). You’d think it’s easy to have an identity as a charr, since they beat it into us since birth. Turns out that identity is what the High Legion wants us to be: soldiers.That’s not an identity... I learned rather early that we were supposed to be easily disposable. Have you ever heard Rytlock talk about “acceptable losses”? We were raised to accept death, is what he meant. My “identity” was shaken already as a cub since for some reason no matter how much they tried to beat it out of me, i never could easily forsake anyone i grew to care about.

My sire- no. - My father once said i inherited my mother’s heart. How i wish i would have had enough time to get to know her... she named me, you know. She wanted to give me an identity too, with the name Denalien. Apparently a clever and strong beast, and if i wear his name too i will be clever and strong too. (As a cub i wondered if i was also supposed to be a beast by that logic...) to prove myself i tried to slay said beast, i was unsuccessful.

For charr, their warband is supposed to be their “family” and more. This was the one thing i could wholeheartedly get behind in my young years, and i still agree with it to an extent, as i think of Dragon’s Watch as a warband.

Another of my titles was “Legionare”, i came by that title because my warband - all but me and Euryale - died in the mission where i first met Rytlock. I didn’t keep that identity for long either, because i soon got promoted to Centurion, which was also rather short lived.

I joined the Order of Whispers, i’m pretty sure you read up on me from that point forward. I know you know who Tybalt Leftpaw was, you know how much i kept going and fighting.

Have you ever wondered why? I have... and looking back i honestly don’t know how i did it. People just kept on dying for my sake, how is that acceptable?? I told myself that i need to take one step after the other so their sacrifice would not be in vain. I got used to fighting a hopeless war.

You’d think the first breath of air i took was after Zhaitan’s defeat, right? Truth is, it was too close a call already. So many times “what if”s bombarded me in my nightmares: what if i wasn’t enough, what if there wasn’t a way, what if Logan and Rytlock didn’t listen to me, what if i couldn’t help Eir, what if i couldn’t calm Zojja down, what if i couldn’t keep Caithe from the Nightmare Court?

The airship we boarded got destroyed, what if Tyria’s hope didn’t catch us in time? What if the cannons didn’t have the promised effect on Zhaitan?

Truth is, the first time i realized i could breathe was when you came into my life. You cannot possibly fathom how close i was to shatter under all the weight the world was putting on me. Your help was invaluable, and often times i looked to you to help me. “Just tell me what to do, and i will do it, Taimi.” was often a thought i had.

Before you, i tried really hard to keep some sort of distance between myself and the people i met. I avoided the Pact and Trahearne, i avoided Destiny’s Edge, and i kept a healthy distance from Kas, Jory, Braham and even Rox. Even you, at the beginning.

Mordremoth’s arrival changed a lot of us, not just the sylvari. I can’t place when exactly, but around his awakening i realized i have let you and the others in.

I think of you as my own blood Taimi, you grew up right by me and i could always rely on you. I couldn’t ask for a better cub, if i could design them by hand. I love you, don’t ever forget that.

You taught me again who i am. Who i was. Denalien, the cub who fiercely protects those he views as family. A quiet cub, who would give his life for yours.

So please.

Don’t leave me.

[kerra-and-company]

Blorbo bingo for Minei and Logan!

(@uselessidiotsquad)

Coming right up!! :D

Minei:

Damn, almost got a bingo there! But...ye, small reaper kid, my beloved <3 She makes me sad and happy in equal amounts, and out of my characters who would be qualified as OP, she and Kerra are probably the top two.

Logan:

He's a mess (again, less so nowadays maybe, but still) and he's great. (And the sibling figure thing is about Minei! Tfw you accidentally adopt a little sister :D)

[heyitsmejona]

Jona’s Story

background reference 

Story under the break!

TABLE OF EVENTS:

Backstory

Zhaitan

Mordremoth [HoT]

Break [LW3]

Balthazar/Joko [PoF]

Kralkatorrik [LW4]

Jormag [IS] 

Warning: Some big spoilers for every single story part in GW2 ahead! 

1. Backstory

She was born and raised in Divinity’s Reach and had a more or less protected childhood. It was always her dream to become a member of the Seraphs. But her parents died really early into her teenage years because of a bandit attack on their bakery. Then it was only her older sister and her, who had to make due by themselves. Her dream was slowly moving away from her, they had to sell the bakery and she started to work as a barmaid in one of the taverns. As she reached adulthood her sister met her future spouse and moved to Queensdale a few years later. Jona remained in Divinity’s Reach, until she spit up a bar fight between a group of Seraphs and citizens. That is when she first met Logan, her life made a full turn afterwards and she soon carried the armor of the seraphs proudly. Her name grew after she saved the Village of Shaemoor, helped her Quaggan friends and became a member of the Vigil. Still unaware of future events, her life began to enter a downward spiral as her sister got captured by the Harathi. She managed to save her just in time but after she brought her to safety she had to depart, to save Lion’s Arch from an unknown threat.

2. Zhaitan

After joining the vigil, she fell in love for the first time. It was truly magnificent for her. She wasn't on to make friends easily, so this pretty much surprised her. After she saved Lion’s Arch from the first Undead attack. The massacre of Claw Island was a blink away. Her love died on that island, she would never return to. Her anger and rage was short, but her grieving began. She went to Orr, fought the Undead and their master Zhaitan. But her heart grew empty. So many good people died there, her groll was mostly aimed at Trahearne. She could not even look him into the eyes anymore. She always wondered how he could lead so many people into their wet graves with the look of excitement on his face. But she also gave herself a load of guild too, she didn’t stop it. She knew you weren’t able to save everyone but she could have at least tried a bit harder. That was when she entered another turning point in her life. She left her friends behind and disappeared. She wanted to help people but this was not the way.

3. Mordremoth

The expedition into the Heart of Maguuma and its failure happened. She couldn't just close her eyes about the whole event, so she went to help. But not as the commander, just as a mere soldier with a new face and name. Maguuma was hard and unforgiving, she did  not stay until the very end. She could not, the thought that her friends were captured and might die just because she didn't offer her help, broke her. During all this she only met Aurene only briefly one time. She made a beeline for the Shiverpeak Mountains. 

4. Break

One of her sister’s friends, an old norn woman owned an abandoned homestead not far from their own. She offered it to Jona in exchange for a little help with the Dolyaks and the Sons of Svanir. Almost no one from her former life knew where she was, or if she was still alive. Until she began to exchange letters with Zojja. Who wrote her about all the things that happened in Maguuma and Trahearne’s and Eir’s death, that Logan and her were still recovering and what all her other friends were up to. They build a strong friendship over the many letters exchanged. It helped them both, to tend to old wounds and give each other a helping hand as they built themselves anew again out of their broken parts. After a while Jona made the decision to travel again, see where she could help folks out. And maybe she slowly got her mind ready to finally stop running.

5. Balthazar/Joko

With the “discovery” of The Crystal Desert and Elona her travels were bound to end up there eventually. She met her friends in a fight against the Forged and helped them out. Both sides were not really ready for the sudden meeting, but when is one ever ready for something. The climate was tense and the remaining trust only a thin strand. But Jona stayed and the old nature of their friendship started to shine through. But she was a different person now, not entirely, her essence was still the same but some parts changed. She was wiser now and more collected and ready to die for everyone. Which eventually happened by the hand of Balthazar. She didn't really mind, it was peaceful? She had to return of course, there were still things to do but it brought to her a certain comfort. She didn't have to fear death anymore. Joko, the master of the Awakened was only a mere wood lump in her way, which she stepped over easily. He was a bit funny, I think they could have been friends in another world. But her next problem wasn’t far ahead.

6. Kralkatorrik

The third elder dragon she met ate Balthazar? And she was off to fight a new threat to the world. She didn’t go by commander anymore though. She was just Lady Jona to her colleagues and subordinates. Many still called her commander of course, and just blatantly ignored her request. The title was a form of respect to them. She wondered if her suffering would ever find an end. During all of this she got finally introduced to Aurene. Aurene knew that Jona was her champion, it was supposed to be this way. But Aurene also saw that Jona would not easily be swayed into this position. It took a lot of trust and many personal talks to accept that this was her destiny. She liked Aurene, and saw her more like her little sister over time. She planned to introduce her to her older sister, once this was over. Because let’s be real, Aurene’s original family totally sucks. They deliver Kralkatorrik from his pain together. But another war was as always about to start soon.

7. Jormag

After Kralkatorrik’s defeat, the relationship between the Charr legions began to boil slowly but surely, and soon the blood legion attacked and Bengar's betrayal would let the galaxy fall into disarray. (I’m sorry) Jormag whispers weren’t far away and grew louder and louder. They wanted Jona to become their champion. Jona was prone to listen, these times would expose themself to be another straining experience on her mental wellbeing. She almost gave in a few times, would not have others been there to help her find a way through the snowstorm. Almorra’s body was discovered, another friend and lost love gone.But she was stronger this time and Aurene and Taimi got her back. Braham and her still didn't talk about Eir much but Rox grew to be a new friend and ally in dangerous situations. Gorrik turned out to be funny and she almost adopted him, she loved that little guy and would always listen when he told her about Blish. She isn't really one to hold grudges, so when she found out that Rytlock released Balthazar and Ryland was his son or that Gorrik was a former member of the Inquest she almost toppled over from laughing so hard. She even forgave Braham for blaming her for Eir’s death, even though he didn’t talk to her about it. He wasn’t so wrong after all but not justified either. But damn, did she hate Ryland.

To be continued?

[dasozelotvonnebenan]

Visiting an old friend

A few informations in front about my very own version of the popular Trahearne lives because we all love him way too much to have him die AU.

Trahearne had enough of just about everything after HoT and while the commander was busy playing mindgames with Mordy, Trahearne convinced Kasmeer to help him fake his death so he can finally go back to Orr and live in peace. The only people that know are Kas and Jory (because Jory is a detective and Kas not good enough at lying) and Caithe, who Trahearne asked to join him, but she refused.

Thats the important bits. The following is set closely after the event of HoT.

Somewhere deep in Orr, far away from just about everything, Caithe followed a small path along a creek. Twisting and turning between giant corals and shells the size of buildings she followed the stream towards its spring, the oily sand below her feet making the hike much more demanding.

By the time she reached the lake from which the creek originated Caithe was panting. Before her she saw a house, rich in golden ornaments and brightly coloured paint on its wall. A fresh reed roof spilled shadow on a terrace with a single rocking chair.

The valley was filled with verdant vegetation, as if the spring infused the land with life, and between patches of colourful flowers she saw him.

Trahearne, kneeling in front of a gardening plot turned around to look at Caithe. “So what did you tell them when you left?”

The woman chuckled, “Bold of you to assume I told them in the first place”, then, almost predicting Trahearne’s judging gaze, “I told them I was going to visit an old friend and that it was none of their business.”

“So I’m an old friend now?” Trahearne raised an eyebrow “Thank you for the compliment”

“You are still the oldest of us. Don’t think I’d ever let you forget that.”

Smiling Trahearne stood up, beckoning his Caithe to follow him inside his little hut. “Very well then, little sister. I’ll make some tea for us.”

“How did you know I’d come” she asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Trahearne went into a small storage room, rummaging through boxes of dried plants. “Honestly? I was expecting to see you much sooner. You took your time.”

“I was delayed. There were a few events to attend. Eir’s burial for example”

“Ah, of course. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.” Trahearne said, almost as if he’d really meant it.

“And yours too. It was a bit different, lacking a body and all. There is a statue of you in the grove.” Caithe smiled, knowing how he’d take the news.

Trahearne turned around shocked. “A statue? Please tell me you are joking!”

“Why would I, I know you wouldn’t like it. The pact paid for it. Statue-you even wields caladbolg. Very heroic.”

“There are so many things I didn’t want but got anyway,” Trahearne remarked “I was really hoping a statue wouldn’t make it on that list.”

“They wanted to rename Fort Trinity as well, but after all the Trahearnity jokes they scrapped that idea.” Caithe giggled “And I saw dolls, and paintings and toy Caladbolgs. At this point I’m just wondering when they’ll write your biography.” Seeing Trahearne get increasingly enraged while making tea pushed Caithe over the edge and she broke out into a healthy burst of laughter.

Trahearne playfully moved the hot kettle to spill the tea on the floor. “No tea for you now, I do not tolerate such evil behaviour in my house.” 

“Oh no, please, I’m really thirsty from travelling all the way to the end of the world. I swear the last three were a lie! Please don’t let me crumple into a scrawny twig!”

“Fine.” Trahearne sighed theatrically ” Although I don’t think you could get much scrawnier than you already are Caithe, but that’s nothing new.”

Caithe threw a fist full of air at her brother. “So only I’m not allowed to be rude, huh?”

“It’s called respect for the elder, Caithe, I am, you might remember, your older brother” He smiled, handing his sister a cup of tea. “Tell me, how’s the world?”

Caithe sat down at the table, shoving away a few books to make room for her elbow. “Fine, mostly. Less threatened. Mother is better, but she is far from being well. Destiny’s Edge is disbanded, Rytlock proposed to found a new group called Dragons Watch and everyone has different opinions about that. Logan is gravely wounded, Zojja is comatose, Braham might be completely crazy, the commander is a sobbing mess half of the time and filled by a scary determination to kill all the dragons the other half. I don’t know why I said something was fine in the beginning.”

Trahearne looked at her, concern in his eyes. “That sounds dire. I’d say something comforting, but truth be told I very happy that I’m not a part of that mess anymore. How’s the pact?”

“Shaken, recovering, marshallless as of now.” Caithe answered, looking deep into her cup.

“No one going to step into my footsteps?”

“Rumors are Almorra is going to ask the commander to fill your position, but we both know that won’t happen, and I think she knows as well. There really isn’t anyone to do it.”

“I feared that might happen. I hope the pact doesn’t break apart, it was the one thing that I was really proud of.” Trahearne said, mirroring his sisters sad tone. “Apart from the cleansing that is.”

“I don’t think that would happen. They learned that they are far stronger together, the pact will last. I’m more afraid what will happen now now that there isn’t one big imminent threat to everyone around. People might turn on each other again.”

“Squabbling like children while they’re sitting in a burning house. You could leave it all behind too. Come live here with me, far away from everything. Disappear again.” Trahearne suggested, a hopeful undertone in his voice. “I enjoy being alone, but not being lonely”

“You know I can’t. I have just started to regain everyone's trust. And there is this egg, I feel responsible for it, even though the commander won’t let me near it.”

Trahearne looked disappointed, although he must’ve expected that answer. “We know each other too well Caithe. But stay for the night at least.”

“How could I miss out on this luxurious lodging? Of course I’ll stay.” Caithe smiled again.

“Great, I’ll make us some food and you tell me everything about this magical egg of yours.”

[commanders-sole-braincell]

Five Stages of Grief

He blinks, and he’s standing in front of Balthazar, one paw wrapped around Sohotin, except- Except this isn’t a burning desert of his daydreams, and he isn’t surrounded by his comrades, all of them burning with the desire to avenge. This is a familiar chill, familiar chains, familiar eyes peering at him from under disheveled hair.

(He’d been the one to find the body, and too late to stop Canach and Kasmeer from seeing; the sharp smell of burning flesh and boiling blood, his stomach rolling, and he did this: he stares at the two pieces strewn in front of his feet and thinks of a young soldier with an earnest smile now cleaved to half with Balthazar’s blade. It’s his fault. He might as well have taken the sword and stabbed them himself.)

“Friend?” Balthazar asks in confusion, and he wants to kill them. He wants to break those chains just for a chance to burn the god with his very own flames, Sohotin gouging out those damnably smug eyes. He wants to win like he’s promised, like the Commander didn’t get to witness, like Eir didn’t get to witness, like Snaff.

(Canach disappears, and no one knows where he’s gone as his footsteps are swallowed whole by a sandstorm. He can hear Kasmeer’s murmured prayers from the next tent over The Commander’s body, words shaking like pebbles underfoot as she weeps over the cruel knowledge that none of her gods will answer. Taimi’s choked sobs echo over the communicator, and he hasn’t the heart nor will to tell her she’s left it on.)

In another world, he breaks the chains to pay a debt. In this world, he leaves the chains be for such a reason.

(Take care of them Rytlock, he swears he hears The Commander whisper that night: he looks at the flames smouldering in the distance and says Yeah, says Of course, says least I can do, his own shoulders trembling.)

There are more important things than his anger, now.

“I hope you rot.” He snarls as he turns to leave. No portal opens for him this time, but it’s alright. He will find a way out and return, to a world with all the ghosts he thought he had laid to rest still living, and this time…

This time, he swears to himself, he won’t fail. He’ll make things right, even if he has to wander The Mists for an eternity with Balthazar’s curses echoing in his ears.

—-

She blinks, and the buzzing machinery in her lab melts away to raised voices and hushed whispers, pounding footsteps on earth. She’s sitting in Scruffy, she’d know his controls in a heartbeat, and yet- wasn’t she standing? Hadn’t she been alone? And now that the fog in her mind lifts, she remembers that the original Scruffy is gone.

(She hadn’t even been there when The Commander dies: Stuck in a lab, watching tourists. She only hears about it when Rytlock opens communications, and she doesn’t need to be a genius to know something is wrong when his words scrape together like shards of glass on concrete. She hears The Commander is Dead and that’s all she needs to know- she throws the communicator hard enough to crack it, feels paralysed in a way she hasn’t been for years.)

Scruffy is a comfortable presence. She clenches her fists and stares, shelves her confusion and elation and focuses on what’s around her. She’s at Rata Sum. Everyone is abuzz, trading worried and confused words with gradually rising voices, and this should be impossible. It’s against every law she’s been taught. If Zojja were here to hear her even consider time travel, she would be aghast.

But- and there’s always a but, sometimes: Eliminate the impossible, and whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. There’s no other explanation.

(Hot tears spill out of her eyes like waterfalls and she curls into herself, cries. She’s alone, without even Scruffy to keep her company, and she feels like she could vomit. Her head spins and she bites her bottom lip hard enough to bleed. All the things she could have said plays out in her head, rings in the silence like unanswered prayers. She could have said goodbye. She could have built herself another golem, and came after them, could have changed things.)

If it really is time travel, then- then she’s not too late. She’s not too late, because nothing has happened. And nothing will happen, this time. She won’t let it. She’d fight Balthazar herself if she has to.

Scruffy beeps questioningly. She gives him a smile. Here’s one more she failed to save, and she won’t let him die, this time.

(I’m sorry, she says, through the tears and snot and the heart wrenching grief. I should have been there.)

“Out of my way!” She yells, almost running over a poor pact soldier, but she doesn’t care. There’s a lump in her throat and a knot in her stomach. It feels like happiness. It feels like freedom. It feels like a second chance.

—-

She blinks, and she’s standing in Amber Sandfall, the wind pulling at her scalp and dust caked under her fingernails.

“Kas?” She hears, and she knows that voice- that familiar lilt, the warm hand on her shoulder. She knows if she turns, she’d see Marjory: And the thought almost brings her to tears. The last time they had met had been before she left for Amnoon, and Jory had been too injured to bring along. The last time they had met they had had a terrible row, and she’d left trying not to feel like she was running away.

(She can’t bring herself to look away from The Commander’s body, the burn marks littering their body like morbid tattoos. Behind her, Canach has stumbled back. Before her, Rytlock stands frozen. She drops to her knees. Did the Commander know this would happen? She wonders. How much of what happened in the volcano was a warning of what would come? She’d shut her eyes to it, and now what The Commander had told her has come to pass: Her eyes had been opened as brutally as theirs were. She’s surprised, and yet, should she be? Balthazar had once almost painted his hands with Jory’s blood.)

This is impossible, she thinks, but she can feel the warmth of Jory’s hand, seeping through her clothes and into her skin as she’s turned around. Jory’s expression is worried, her other hand rising to cup her cheek. She isn’t injured. She isn’t angry. She’s wonderfully, joyously, alright.

(She kneels, her hands clasped in prayer. Why did you let them die? She asks. Did I not pray enough? Did they not save enough people? The Commander was good, and so kind- The Commander didn’t deserve to die. Please, bring them back. If you would listen to me just once-)

“Kas?” Jory repeats, as she sways, leans into her touch. “What’s wrong? Did you see something?” 

“No, I- I’m fine.” She answers. She looks around. She’s in Amber Sandfall, and Jory is too. They’re back on the day the Pact Fleet had been torn out of the sky by hundreds upon hundreds of thick vines. This means…

She almost stops breathing, when it registers.

The Commander is alive. They’re alive-

(Please: I’ll do anything, if you would bring them back.)

“Jory, we have to leave!” She says, and she grabs her lover by her hand. All she can see is The Commander’s soft smile as they told her how much they hoped she and Jory would patch things up, The Commander going around the temple helping others, The Commander keeping watch night after night until the bags under their eyes were permanent. 

(Her cheeks are wet- it takes her a while to realise she’s crying.)

This time, she’ll make things right. She murmurs a quick prayer to The Six, and her words of gratitude are soon swallowed up by the wind.

—-

She blinks, and Kas is pulling her by the arm, running across the silverwastes. Her body moves in a way she hadn’t been able to make them since a volcano and a fake god, and Kasmeer is here.

(She hears it from Taimi, and the news makes something burn inside her: She forces her injured limbs to move, punches a nearby mirror hard enough to make it shatter. The ugly feeling is there inside her, a thousand little whispers telling her all the ways it could have happened. Did they suffer? Were they in pain? Did Balthazar make it last longer? Did he try to make them beg for mercy?)

She stops, so suddenly that Kasmeer stumbles back in a cloud of dust. “What are you doing?” She asks. Her voice sounds strange even to her own ears, but she’s feeling unnaturally calm. She watches Kas look at her, confusion and impatience swirling in those eyes.

(After the mirror, it’s the pillow; after the pillow, the table, and after that, the mattress. She’s lost before. After Belinda, she’s thought nothing could hurt that much ever again. But this isn’t the same feeling. When she mourned her sister, she’d been a mess: she would have fallen apart, if Kas hadn’t been there. She would have shattered into a million little pieces and nothing could have brought her together again. This is a different kind of hurt, liquid fire coursing through her veins, and she feels like she’s putting herself together, filling the cracks in her heart with heat. She doesn’t feel stronger as much as she feels justified rage.)

“Jory..?” Kas asks. She looks away, counts her breaths. Calm, she has to be calm.

“Yeah.” She says, and she can’t meet Kas’s eyes.

(She knew it, she knew Balthazar hadn’t been the god she was taught to worship; she knew. Kasmeer’s tearful apology plays itself again and again in her head: I’m sorry, I froze. It was Balthazar. The god… She had been angry then, and she is angry now; she wraps her arms around herself and shakes, surrounded by the debris that used to be her room.)

“Oh.” Kas steps back. They must have realised it by now. They’re both here, the two of them, somehow in the past. She keeps her gaze on a pebble as Kas stands in front of her. They were never this stiff around each other before, but the smouldering anger in her chest isn’t going away.

The Commander is alive, and Belinda isn’t, and she can’t help it; she’s bitter, and angry, and so so tired.

(She shakes and shakes, and she can’t stop shaking, caught up in an internal earthquake of her own making. The Commander is dead, and who’ll be next? Rytlock? Canach? …Kas? The thought brings with it a wave of nausea and she hunches over, gagging. It’s too much. It feels like everything’s too much, too big for her body, and she wishes she hadn’t punched that mirror now, wishes she’d waited, just so she could drive her first into the glass once more.)

“I’m sorry.” Kas tells her, and her voice shakes. “I’m sorry that- I’m sorry about the way we left things.”

She stays quiet, for a few moments. The anger is there still.

(Kas, she whispers, but there’s no one there.)

“I know, I know.” She admits, and she finally meets her lover’s eyes. It’s a surrender and she knows it, but the truth is- she’d missed this, and missed her, and worried. “Me too.”

—-

He blinks, and he hears a familiar call settle in his limbs, a frequency only he’s attuned to. His first thought is what, and his second thought is no. No, he cannot possibly be going through this again. Mordremoth is dead, he’s supposed to be dead, and yet-

That blasted call, and the haltingly familiar view of the Silverwastes. He digs his fingers into his arm, applying more and more pressure. The sharp pain makes it clear. He isn’t dreaming. This is something much worse than his darkest nightmares. It’s real.

(He waits until everyone is asleep before he returns, wishing for his solitude. He waits until Kasmeer’s weeping peters out into exhausted mumbles and Rytlock’s lumbering figure retires into his tent. He waits until everyone is asleep to enter the place they’ve been keeping The Commander’s body. He trips his way through the flaps, heart in his throat.)

His third thought is they’re alive, and that drives him to a stumble, still dazed by this turn of events. He grits his teeth- now is not the time to be a sapling- and forces his unresponsive arms and legs to move, running out of Rata Sum. In the distance, he sees “Scruffy” traversing the wastes and it’s more of a relief than he can imagine: Taimi left without him this time. That must mean she had come back as well. 

She must have. He cannot imagine repeating this all again, resisting the haunting siren call of the Elder Dragon a second time. The last time, he had had The Commander. Last time, he had had company in his misery. He doesn’t have that now, doesn’t think he can lay his heart bare once again looking into the eyes of someone once dead, someone he had failed to be there for the way they had for him.

(Commander, he says, and he stares at the body. It’s still, and it just makes the words tumble out unbidden, drawn out by an invisible force. Stop this… act. I bet 500 gold that you would take down Balthazar- you can’t possibly make me lose that wager. You can’t possibly be dead. You beat two dragons! This should have been nothing!)

Freedom was a sweet drink, and he misses it already- he thinks he might be suffering from withdrawal. He thinks he might just have to be more sympathetic towards drunks now, with the way it feels. It feels horrible, to hear Mordremoth’s voice, to see twisting vines out of the corner of his eyes, feel phantom crawling all over his skin.

(You were there, you saw what I did. You’re the only one who knows what it was like- in the dragon’s mind. You and Caithe, and you know how I feel about her. You can’t leave me behind with only a firstborn for company: You couldn’t possibly. You called me brother then- you can’t just say that and go.)

This is a terrible place to return to, but he won’t let it be for naught. He runs, and he doesn’t know how long it’s been until he’s there: Where they had all met up last, brought together by the news of the destruction. He looks around, ears ringing. Where are they..?

(Commander, he says, voice breaking. And, quieter, sibling.)

He doesn’t find the Commander.

Instead, he finds the Marshall, and something is screaming in the back of his head; something pushes him forward, facing the firstborn who had died in front of them all, in a way even he had not wished to see them die. His mind is blank. This cannot be. The Commander should be the one here. Why is it him?

He knows the answer. He knows that if he had returned, if Taimi had returned, if everyone had returned- if The Commander had returned, he knows exactly what they would have done with their chance. The Commander, who he had never seen cry before Caladbolgh and a death.

“Where are they.” He asks, no, demands, as he stands in front of Trahearne. “Where are they? Why are you here? You shouldn’t be the one here.”

No no no no.

Trahearne’s eyes are wide. He doesn’t care. “Where’s the commander?” He asks, almost desperately. He sees Kasmeer in the corner of his eyes, hands over her mouth; Marjory, pale; Taimi, gone still- and panic swells in his breast. Panic that miraculously stays out of his voice, his words strangely level. “Answer me.”

(They don’t answer, and he knows now they’re gone- The Commander would never have ignored him if he called them that. He staggers, clutching at the table with limp fingers; It’s too late. They’re gone. The odds had been against them from the start.)

The firstborn closes his eyes, and he looks tired. He looks guilty, and that implies there’s something to be guilty of. He knows what they’re going to say.

Don’t say it, he thinks, as the entire Dragon’s Watch holds their breath.

“They… They took my place at the fleet.”

The world drops away from their feet.

------------------

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

ANON OMG

This sis so beautifully written from the characterization to the narrative and AHHHHHH

Everyone mourning the Caommnder and returning with their memories!!! Them all figuring out that something’s wrong! Canach being the first to figure out what they’d do to save them all! Brother/Sibling! The way they all responded to finding the Commander’s body and the little extra details aaaaHHHHH!!! IM LOSING MY MIND AND LIVING MY BEST LIFE

[kehideni]

Little fanfic because i can now.

Things to know: the commander here is Beasteye Denalien, an Ash Legion ranger. Working with canon backgrounds, with a sparckle of artistic freedom.

You can have shippy glasses on and also not, you decide. I personally have them on and if you ask i can explain why, eventhough i personally would prefer the commander to be asexual. (Which he still can be, but let's not go into that.)

Onto the fic:

"It was tough to find you Commander, Aurene is worried about you, you know."

The Commander was sitting on a rock that would pass as a chair for him. He was larger than the average charr, but still smaller than a well-grown adult norn. His back was to Caithe, one of the first born sylvari that promised herself to Aurene's cause, however the bonds they shared was clearly deeper than just aligning interests.

"Did you come in her name then? To check on me?" The Commander had decided to hide in Sun's Refuge, not answering the communicator if it was not an emergency. Once Kralkatorrik was gone and Aurene branded over her grandfather's very own, the underground safe-place was no longer needed. Those who could return to their lives did, those that lost everything have started over or they too joined Aurene, as part of the Crystal Bloom.

"Yes and no. Through our link with Aurene i sensed your trouble as well. I also wanted to make sure you are ok." As she told him her reasons she walked to the charr to sit next to him on the rock. That's when she noticed that her dear friend was holding an arrow. It was different looking that the rest he kept on his back in his quiver.

From the corner of his eyes he saw the questioning look on Caithe.

"It's the last arrow Eir crafted." He slowly and carefully spun it in his clawed fingers. "When we defeated Zhaitan and had that celebration in Fort Trinity she pulled me away."

-------------

"What is it?" Back then even his voice seemed less deep. The challenges of Tyria not yet taking their toll on the Ash Legion centurion. Hehh, he scoffed on the memory; back then that title still meant something to him.

Eir smiled, her wolf Garm wagged his tail excitedly next to her, as if he knew what his master was going to do.

"We just killed the Elder Dragon Zhaitan and you already think there must be something wrong if someone wants to talk to you?" She jabbed.

That caught the dark charr off guard, if the charr weren't covered in fur one would be able to see if they were blushing. Well, now a charr was blushing.

"No, nothing is wrong. I just noticed that your arrows are unique. I was wondering if you made them?" The smile never left her face, she looked like she just have been liberated from prison. Denalien didn't care to think why, but was happy for his friend all the same.

"OOOOHhhhh! Yeah, i make them. Specifically to pierce the enemy and to also hit hard."

"That's impressive! Look, let me show you MY arrows. I craft them myself too." She proudly reached back to her own quiver to pull out one.

"I prefer if my arrows are fast. So i make them flat." She presented the arrow, Denalien's eyes were sparking, the awe showing obviously on his feline face.

He reached carefully, intending to hold it in his hands, but at the last second Eir gasped and pulled her arms back a little.

"Are you interested in a trade? From one ranger to another, to one friend to another. I was thinking we trade one of our arrows to the other, and only use it for a special purpose." She playfully spun the arrow between her fingers.

The Commander didn't even take a second to think about the offer. "I'm interested!" He wagged his tail almost akin to Garm.

-------------------

The beat of silence after the short story was deafening to the sylvari. She was just about to ask something when Denalien's pet- Raphael, a red drake that never left his side - shook his whole body. It broke the silence, but the atmosphere didn't change much.

"I've decided i will keep it as a memento, if i can help it, it will be the last arrow i ever let lose."

Hearing that from someone Caithe considered so strong made her stomach churn. She didn't miss the fatalistic tone in his voice.

"Why are you here?" She honestly couldn't think of anything else to say. The time when Eir died was a low point in the friendship between her and the commander. She was eternally grateful that she managed to make up with him.

"..." The Commander has always been quiet like her 'So that's what it feels like...' Caithe tried to jest herself in her mind.

"Long before i met you, even Rytlock, i had a warband." That's strange, the Commander never spoke of his own past, atleast not to Caithe. Maybe she should talk with him more, she took note of this.

"The leader of my warband was called Howl the Brazen. He was almost the exact opposite of me. He was as charr as a charr can be, loved fighting, but even more loved us. He made us give each other mementos of ourselves saying it's a way for us to always be there for the others, even if we get separated." He turned to his loyal drake, pet it's head.

"Since most of them died i was named leader, and decided to took up this little habbit of collecting mementos."

Caithe just now noticed all the items that was piled in front of him. There were several minis-most of them charr, presumably of his warband, a bag in the shape of a white, spotted charr- she distantly remembers a charr akin to the bag hanging out with her leader. A sticker in the shape of a bomb, and most noticably the repaired greatsword of her people- Caladbolg.

She understood how heavily these losses weighed on him, but she still felt like there's something else. She didn't have to wonder a lot.

"I have nothing from Braham..." ohh... in hindsight she should have known, she heard what happened from Rytlock.

"He also has nothing from me." In all honesty Caithe hoped she could help him, as large was the charr next to her, he now looked so small. To her regret she didn't know what would help him, not even how to cheer him up, so in silence they sat. Raphael taking notice of Caithe, tried his hardest to snuggle up to her lap, almost reminded her of one of the cats that one day mysteriously appeared in her home in the Groove. Of course she never had the heart to push those cute and cuddly animals away, same as now, she let the red drake up her lap.

"I don't even know if Eir had a chance to use my arrow i gave her. I hope it helped her so that atleast i could save her in that one moment."

The crystallized sylvari seemed to be deep in thought. Suddenly her eyes grew bright, shining like diamonds. She reached for her chest, covered her big crystal flower with her palm, but the Commander didn't seem to address her motion.

"I want to trade with you!" She exclaimed. For now that successfully shocked Denalien out of his sorrowful mood. She revealed her right hand, she held a crystal-petal from her chestflower. The Commander wide-eyed didn't even know what to say.

"In exchange i waaaaaantt...." she didn't know what to ask for yet, but as she remarked his pile of mementos she finally had an idea. ".... a carving of yourself!" Raphael almost asleep suddenly yelped at her. "..And obviously of Raphael as well!" She smiled as the drake laid his head down on her lap once again, proof to her that she guessed correctly what he wanted.

The Commander suddenly stood up "But... that's... didn't it hurt to take off?!"

Ever a worry, she thought with a gentle smile. "No. Now take it, once you have the carving ready i expect you to find me!" To this her friend finally smiled what seemed to be the first in a long long time.

"How do you expect me to find you? You are always the one to find me! Need i remind you i never noticed you were following me for who knows how long before you revealed yourself to me, righ here?"

Oh, Caithe remembers, she remembers finding him in Jahai Bluffs, she remembers how she saw him with a woman she later learned was called Zafira, she followed him all the way here when she learned he'd enter the Mists with a little asuran golem. She remembers how worried she was for him and how relieved, when she saw him alive, and immediatelly after his face when they learned what happened to Blish- the companion who was there for him in his need. The reason she didn't reveal herself till that moment was that she was ashamed, ashamed for not being there for her friend.

"Don't worry, i will allow you to find me." She chuckled, trying to keep the lighter mood up as long as she could.

"Give it to me." Denalien asked her gently. "I accept this trade."

Caithe felt awkward a bit, like she just have stayed her welcome. Gently she pushed Raphael off her lap, who whined a bit.

"I probably should go... don't keep us waiting for long. We all need you, come back to us when you're ready."

The charr finally stood tall, that's what he is supposed to look like to her. Tall and strong, unshakable.

"...Could you stay? I no longer wish to be alone, but i can't face everyone yet."

That was a pleasant surprise for Caithe.

"Of course!"

-----------

The airship was going down, big vines tore the fleet apart right in front of her, as if it was made out of paper. She was running out of arrows, and several sylvari just turned on them, as if they are not in enough danger as it is.

They were about to flank both Logan and Zojja, they lined up perfectly but she had only one arrow left!

It was exactly what she needed to save her friends in the chaos.

"Thank you, Commander!" She panted and let loose her last arrow, successfully saving both Logan and Zojja from an untimely death.