#( aaaaah writing while being half asleep is sooo bad askjf )

[azurblau]

                                           @soulofshiva | Ysayle. BELOVED.

Mayhap it was due to his very own FOOLISHNESS of not keeping his very own promises that it had come so far; seeing her return to their provisional camp consisting of naught more but a steady fire and their goods and chattels piled up against some tree with a SCRATCH on her cheek. Truthfully, some moons ago he would have been less  w o r r i e d  than he was right now, in this very moment –having seen so many different shades of this world, more bad than good fragments of what these lands had to offer, that he was aware that one could not avoid the inevitable. None of them had ever run away from their RESPONSIBILITIES; and even now, without a clear cause, they were far from being peaceful. War still found them – haunted them. Those who had once stained their hands with blood, whether it was for the sake of the many others they saved with their actions or merely for their selfish selves, could not erase those marks. The guilt did not easily fade away to oblivion like the memories of those who had  f o u g h t  and  d i e d  – and the regret of the many wrongs would stay with one for all eternity. Estinien did not have to ask her to know that she felt very similar; which was the very reason why she had joined him at the end of the war. The shackles were gone, but what remained were TOOLS of war which no longer had any purpose. Vessels only bearing sin – even if they had achieved what they had hoped for. Nay, he had always been prepared to trade his very own REDEMPTION for the sake of Ishgard and anyone else; staring at the reaper’s eye. But he was not as empty as he had always pretended to be; and albeit he had vowed to be honest towards those he considered his dear friends, the man had been so very silent lately. And because of his silence, of his ignorance, she had returned  w o u n d e d.

Suffice to say he indeed had a reason for such silence – mayhap since he feared if he stayed too close to her she might notice his EMOTIONS; emotions he had been hiding deep within for so long that he could barely contain them any longer. Not only for once in his entire lifetime had he ever felt this way – a warm emotion which slowly grew even stronger over time, becoming more powerful than one wyrm’s  d e a d l y  breath – being absolutely certain that such emotion had to be called LOVE. He realized this long ago, whilst he was still recovering from his fatigue and almost lethal wounds just by noticing how strong the heartbeat of a man at the brink of death could become just by looking upon the face of the person one  l o v e d. Her face. And knowing her by his side, waiting for him to awake from his slumber, had certainly helped him more than the loud sniveling of Alphinaud. As grateful as he was for the boy’s SYMPATHY, there had been no reason for him to welcome the living with tears. By now he enjoyed every moment to be with her; even if they did not talk and even if she scarcely ever saw into his direction. The man had been content with this, grateful of even seeing those little smiles she sometimes wore on her lips even after all that had happened – always watching her from a fair distance albeit being so very  c l o s e. But by now it had become so much more difficult to ignore his feelings; to ignore the instinct dwelling deep within.

C a l l o u s e d  FINGERTIPS reached for the thin red line on her cheek, naught more but a painless scratch mayhap, yet proof of what she had faced all by herself. Her skin was so very soft beneath his fingers, albeit he had already lost almost all sensation in them after the many years of war. Never for once had he doubted in her abilities, not after witnessing her fine usage of MAGIC  far more  s u p e r i o r  to what he was used to see for so long albeit he was by far no expert to presume as much – but the WORRY inside the reflection of grey blue eyes did not fade as easily. The sheer thought of sharpened steel brushing her skin was almost unbearable as of now; as he was fully aware of it that she had become his greatest weakness by now – the meaning of loss itself. For years he had ignored any dull emotion caused by fading voices and faces, brave men and women he once knew and called his comrades. Such TRAGEDY had been inevitable for too long – long enough for him to become used to a certain numbness, forgetting the fear of losing another dear person like the burned corpses of his parents or the crushed body of his brother. Nevertheless the FEAR had started to crawl back into his heart, replacing the many scattered wounds inside his very soul caused by the sharp claws of the wyrm. The nightmares had not ended; not even moons after the end of the dragonsong war – and instead of listening to the malicious deep tone of Nidhogg he only listened to hers, s c r e a m i n g  in AGONY. Often enough his very slumbers had become an symphony of despair, the many voices of those he loved all yelling for help, reaching out to him whilst his body was drenched in pitchblack, falling deeper into the abyss. For the past two decades he had not wasted one single breath for praying to a GODDESS who never listened to him, not when he sought to see her mercy the  m o s t – but mayhap he would start it again to speak these senseless words once used in their past. What kind of fool he had become.

                ‘Pray  t e l l  me that you had never been in true danger, YSAYLE.                  Need I remind you that I shall sting anyone with my lance who                  is foolish enough to stand against  u s? You are the strongest                  woman I know but we all have our moments of weakness.                 ‘Twas  f o o l i s h  to leave on your own. There are still many spies,                  waiting for their mindless PREY. I shall doubt that you want to be                  among them.’

His words were in contradiction to what he felt deep inside; but the TONE of his lecture was so very soft to how it would have sounded only some time ago. His thoughts were long distracted – noticing that his fingertips still moved upon her cheeks, r e f u s i n g  to move elsewhere. Away from her. Estinien’s gaze softened beneath his long lashes, pairs of greyblue still staring into her ice ones whilst his lips parted to say something else. Words he did not know how to say them; words he was still  u n c e r t a i n  about. But the emotion he felt inside, the warmth he had once known as boy, remained. How long could he withstand such pure gaze of the woman he loved without having to withdraw? Mayhap it was a FIGHT he could not win as his invincible mask had long crumbled to dust. Ere she even had the opportunity to avoid his faint touches upon her skin, his second arm pulled her body closer to his own in the moment when he pressed his LIPS on hers. Her lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined them to be – fitting so very well with his own softly brushing against hers with slow movements as he enjoyed it to taste her on his tongue. To notice her already lovely SCENT intensifying upon his touches – whether she would push him away or not. N a y, he did not want to think about it. All he wanted right now was her – to make her realize why he had been  a v o i d i n g  her for the past days. Because he  l o v e d  her.