#and for those who doubt the quality upbringing of this piece i assure you it was made in only the finest most optimal conditions

[gu6chan]

Heartwarming: Homeless man given coat to stave off the winter weather 💕

[selfships-in-spanish]

The Queen of Demons 3/?

Pairing: Erwin Smith x OC, Levi Ackerman x OC

Rating: Mature (the rating will go up as the story advances! But it will totally be explicit ;D But right now just in case)

Warnings: None for now, but sexist and misogynist upbringing (Eva's father is a huge asshole).

Word Count: 7103

ALSO POSTED ON AO3

A/N: Third chapter LET'S GOOOOOO– We are getting more into the plot of the story, Erwin being Erwin and Flora being the absolute best girl in the whole universe.

Gotta love Flora.

CHAPTER 3: DANCING WITH THE DEVIL

Both the Crown Prince and the Chief ordered their remaining men to step outside too, asking for absolute privacy. Everyone but Moblit left.

Friederich let out a loud sigh, taking a long gulp from his goblet to drown the image of their beloved little sister pleading them to not leave her alone. They sadly had to, it was safer for her this way. The Chief refilled it, the Prince thanking him with a nod.

“Now you understand what we meant, right?” Hans laced his fingers together, resting his arms on his knees.

“Father has had his claws on her for far too long.” Friederich stared at the wine in his goblet, frowning displeased. “Too long.”

He forgot when it was the last time his little sister genuinely smiled.

“I do, your Highnesses. And I swear to you both, and to the Goddesses, that she will be safe here.”

“This wouldn’t have been possible without your help, Erwin. You really don’t know how grateful we are to you, and for accepting our only request.” Hans looked directly at the Chief’s eyes.

“This is the safest place for her to be while the other stages of the plan happen.” Erwin took a sip of his goblet, eyeing both brothers as he awaited for Moblit to finish translating. “Your father won’t dare urge us Eldians to fulfill our end of the deal until the marriage happens. For now he waits, and that is when we must act. Sadly time is of the essence, and we cannot waste any of it.”

“Truly a race against time, huh?” Friederich crossed his arms, not wanting to let any negative thoughts cloud his mind and sully his purpose.

“Yes, a race we must win.” Both brothers understood now why the Eldian Chief was both feared by his enemies and deeply respected by his allies. His determination was contagious, and even if they had all the odds against them, they felt that they could truly win. This is how his warriors must feel on the battlefield, ready to give their lives following his orders as they fought side by side.

“Our sister–” Friederich insisted, his fingers twitching.

“My warriors will protect her. The chances of having an entire army mobilised here are very slim, especially considering their General is here, and that the troops are loyal to their General, before their King.” Erwin motioned with his hand towards Friederich. “And I suppose if it was inevitable, I would have a word of warning to prepare a scheme to avoid our armies confronting each other, wouldn’t I?”

“Still, it’s a big gamble. Even for you.” Hans replied, taking a sip from his goblet. “We should consider all chances.”

“He knows his chances.” Friederich leaned back on his chair. “Don’t you?”

“I’ve always been a man of big gambles.” The Chief’s chuckle made Friederich snort. “But rest assured–”

“This is our sister we are speaking of, not only Gottesreich.” From the two brothers, Friederich had always been the hot-headed one, and wouldn’t hesitate to say a piece of his mind when his little Birdie was concerned. “Harmony has been broken, Father has gone too far in his madness, and this is our only chance to do something, yes.” Friederich leveled the Chief with a hard stare. “But for me, my sister comes first. She’s an innocent in this, screw the Kingdom if any harm comes to her, screw Fa–”

“Friederich.” Hans fixed his eyes on his brother. A warning.

“I understand your feelings and concerns, Friederich. I do, and I share the same sentiment as you.”

“She is not a pawn to be sacrificed in any stage of the plan. This is why she is here.”

“I know. Trust my warriors.” Erwin’s determined glint in his eyes settled any doubts the younger Prince may have had.

Some said he was a master strategist, others a mad genius leading an army of demons. Friederich believed he was both, because you had to be brilliantly crazy to pull stunts as they had pulled before and be victorious each time. His warriors would follow him to the ends of the known world and Friederich deeply respected that.

“We will right the wrongdoings done to this world by the hand of our father. We only wished we realised sooner what his plans were.”

“You realised it in time, enough to do something.”

“We hope so, Erwin.” Hans had a somber expression on his face, really wanting to believe what the Chief said. “We hope so.”

That seemed to conclude their private meeting, seeing both brothers to their respective rooms in the guest houses. The Chief retired to his own too, soon to be shared with his fiancé, before finishing some matters concerning the evening banquet.

As he stepped into the wooden tub filled with warm water, releasing a pleased groan as he lowered himself further into it and felt the tight knots in his back loosen, he couldn’t help but to still think about their little talk with the Princes and the Princess herself.

There was so much work to be done. They were only in the early stages of their plan and so many things could go wrong. Erwin was not stupid, he knew every plan had its risks, but they made the hard work worth it. It was worth it. The three siblings were the key to change the course of the three nations.

Hans was going to be a good King. Down to earth, just, always willing to protect his people and their happiness. He had a great responsibility on his shoulders as the Crown Prince, but Erwin felt more at ease knowing one day he will be the one sitting on the throne of Gottesreich. The Crown Prince despised greed.

Erwin deeply respected Friederich, both as a General who had the trust of his men and as a fierce soldier with a big heart. Those were qualities appreciated in Eldia, since you had to understand life in order to take one in battle. Friederich always honoured his enemies, and Erwin knew that if they ever had to cross swords in a battlefield, it would be a good, honourable fight.

But that wasn’t the plan, no. If it all came together in the end, they would be side by side.

As he let his head rest on the edge of the tub, Erwin’s mind wandered towards the third of the Gottesreichan siblings.

Erwin would be an absolute blind fool if he didn’t agree with what the whispers and rumours said; the Princess was a beauty. Elegance, gracefulness, perfect manners, a lovely face… everything needed to survive in a court and its poisoned, claustrophobic walls. But he would never forget the way she looked absolutely terrified at the prospect of being alone, and Erwin couldn’t blame her at all. It would shake anyone to their cores to be ripped off their homes to be then thrown into an unknown territory. But there was also something else hidden deep under those layers of fear, another reason than a change of culture.

With her doe eyes and delicate features, the Princess reminded him of a scared little fawn.

Erwin only hoped she would lose her fear and be happy here, to be her true self without her father’s strings manipulating her every movement and word. It will be tedious and Erwin will have to use his entire patience, but he was positive he would succeed.

The door of the private bathroom opened without a warning, Levi stepping in with a confident stride and uncaring of Erwin’s nakedness. He closed it with his foot, not even turning back to properly do so, and took a stool to sit down on it. Erwin knew it would be futile to stop Levi from saying what he had on his mind, years of friendship proved him that, and that displeased frown sometimes said more than words.

“This is a terrible idea.” Levi crossed his arms, glaring at the man in front of him. “Are you sure about this, Erwin?”

The Chief chuckled. Levi’s frown deepened.

“Ah, straight to the point as always.” Erwin closed his eyes, feeling Levi’s agitated ones on him. “I am sure.”

“What made you think marrying that Princess will help Eldia?” Levi wasn’t happy about this decision he took, but he knew that deep down Erwin must have a good, important reason to do it. Or maybe not. This was Erwin, you never knew what he had in mind. “Or maybe you want kids now? Don’t tell me it’s that, you bastard. You could have chosen any Eldian woman, they’d be more than happy to do so.”

Erwin couldn’t contain the burst of laughter that escaped from deep in his throat.

“Rest assured, Levi, it’s not kids I want.”

“Then what? It’s Gottesreich we are talking about. Gottesreich and the mad, greedy King. Do you really want to be associated with that?”

“She will help our cause.” Erwin heard Levi sigh. “Thankfully the brothers think so too, the people of her Kingdom have a special spot for her, and that plays to our advantage. Let’s better leave the Mad King thinking he got a stupidly, unbelievable good deal and that he won us, uncultured barbarians, over. You know what they say,” Ah, there it was. That dangerous, cunning glint in his eyes. “keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.”

The Chief and his insane gambles. Levi scoffed.

“You already have planned multiple ways to use her and her ties to the Mad King, haven’t you?”

“You make me sound like an uncaring monster, Levi. But I wouldn’t endanger her at all, that’s not part of the plan.”

“Sometimes you are, dipshit. When you have a plan and are adamant to carry it on, nothing will stop you.” Erwin placed his hand on his chest, chuckling and lowering his head as if he was hurt.

“You wound me.”

“Asshole.” Levi kicked the tub.

“But she isn’t here to be used as a pawn.” That caught Levi’s attention. “She is here for her safety. If she stayed any longer in her Kingdom, she would have her pretty head chopped off or worse. Here she has a second chance.”

“So that’s the deal with her brothers, then? Their sister?”

“That was their only selfish request, that only one life was to be secured at any costs, even over their citizens.”

“Huh. I see. So we are babysitters now.”

“You could put it like that, or also you could think of it as an opportunity to see a beautiful flower bloom, besides the enrichment and merging of our cultures. Don’t you want to expand your knowledge?”

Levi’s brow twitched.

“You are twisted.”

“And you are twisting my words. I meant this,” Erwin tapped his temple. “Our little Princess there is not just a pretty face. I want to see what she is capable of.”

“Huh.”

“I know that behind those scared eyes lies intelligence and knowledge. One time Prince Hans told me she would go with them on diplomatic visits, and how she would take over one day when he was King. She has the skills. She’s observant, or haven’t you noticed?”

“I guess, although today she looked mostly like a frightened mouse, or haven’t you noticed?”

“Ah, indeed I noticed. Do you blame her, though?”

Levi looked at his feet, sighing.

“Not at all.”

Both men remained in silence, going through today’s events. Their lives would drastically change from now on, and Levi wanted to believe it was for the good. Erwin’s voice grabbed his attention again.

“Let’s try our best to make her feel welcome. Everyone would be scared to be in a foreign land with no known faces, no knowledge of the language, only knowing your fate is sealed and you cannot do a thing about it.”

“I think your eyebrows are what scares her the most.” Levi snorted, rising up from the stool. “Although I know other things will scare her more when she sees them.”

“Oi, there’s nothing wrong with my eyebrows.” He splashed a bit of water towards Levi’s direction, knowing how his childish behaviour often set his right hand’s man nerves on edge. He also didn’t want parts of his anatomy discussed while he was, well, naked. Levi deserved a bit of water.

“I hope your kids don't have them.” It was Erwin’s turn to snort.

“Rude.”

“Get out before you look like a raisin. I bet the Princess won’t kiss you then.” Levi grabbed a towel and threw it at the Chief’s face. “Go take a shit and make yourself presentable. You should take her around the town.”

“We better let her rest, it has been a long journey for them.” Erwin left the towel on a nearby stool. “I will take her and her brothers tomorrow to see the town.”

Levi shrugged his shoulders, walking to the door.

“Be on your best behaviour.” Levi rolled his eyes, not sparing a glance towards the Chief. Levi knew he would have that infuriating smirk on his lips.

“I’m always on my best behaviour.”

“Absolutely.”

Erwin watched Levi shake his head and sigh, exiting the bathroom and leaving the Chief snickering and alone with his thoughts.

There were so many things to prepare for his change in his daily life in the upcoming months. For once, he would have to share his house and make room for whatever needs and space the Princess may have.

And tidy.

Erwin scratched his chin, knowing he really should pick up his clothes and take them to get cleaned before Levi lost his patience and set fire to them. Also pick up the maps and books invading every flat surface available. Change the candles, store the seal wax in its rightful place…

Yes, many things indeed.

Erwin let himself submerge slightly into the water, sighing.

///

“This is a nightmare.”

“Oh c’mon, you big dramatic oaf. Look at the bright side of it, he is handsome! And strong! I want one of them myself!”

“Flora!”

“What? I got eyes and I’m not made of stone! Did you see the size of him? I bet he can lift a cow without breaking a sweat.” Flora brushed her Princess’ hair, perfectly detangling and separating the strands to prepare it for the hair style she had in mind, and greatly enjoying her friend’s flustered cheeks. “And he will say to you: “Oh, my Princess! Look at these arms!”, and then will rip his tunic off–” Flora dropped her voice trying to imitate the same pitch as the Chief’s one, and also flexing her own arms as if she was displaying her own inexistent muscles. “And say: “Princess, tonight I will—“

Eva’s scandalised gasp made it worth it.

“Where did you learn all this?!”

“My dear, sweet, virtuous, pure, innocent, Princess.” Flora’s grin made Eva’s mouth twitch.

“No, save it. I don’t want to know.”

“You know the captain’s son, handsome young man—“

“Flora!”

“Those unused rooms where—“

Another gasp.

“No!” Eva covered her mouth. Those rooms?!

“That table— sturdy, let me tell you. But ah! He has good fingers!”

“FLORA.”

The handmaiden snorted, followed by a good-hearted laugh. She resumed brushing the Princess’ hair, already thinking what pins to use this time for the braid and bun.

“I know you had to be the beacon of virtue and holiness for the Kingdom, an example to be followed, but us women are curious and have our needs also. What’s wrong in having a little bit of fun? Haven’t you been curious yourself?” Flora’s smile reassured Eva. Sometimes Eva felt like her handmaiden was a caring big sister, and felt comfortable enough to discuss thoughts she had that never would dare to say aloud.

“I… well.”

“...I know about those forbidden books under your mattress.”

“Then you know the answer.”

Flora’s loud laugh echoed around the room, needing to leave the brush on the vanity and having to clutch her belly. Eva’s cheeks increased their red glow, pointedly ignoring Flora’s outburst. Certainly those who came from the countryside weren’t as lawful to the Holy Scriptures as the ones nearer the Capital or the Palace itself.

Once Flora managed to calm down enough and wiped away tears, she resumed her work, expertly braiding the Princess’s long hair. It always soothed Eva, the way her handmaiden gently manoeuvred her hands and fingers without a harsh and painful pull. Flora said having two whiny younger sisters made you learn fast.

“Hmmm,��� Flora tied the braid with a ribbon for now, tapping her finger on her chin while deep in thought. “I was thinking that for tonight’s banquet you should look… exquisite. But distinguished. But making sure our darling Chief cannot take your eyes away from you.”

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you.” Eva rose a delicate brow, looking straight at Flora’s honey eyes through the mirror. Flora snickered, turning around to the multiple open trunks and luggage.

“Of course I am!” Flora rummaged through one of the Princess’ trunks, pulling out a dress. “What about this one?”

“Which one?” Eva turned around to see which piece was Flora holding in her hands. “The red one? Maybe it’s too much… The cleavage and open shoulders—“

“It makes a statement. Our Chief won’t be able to concentrate on anything else but you.”

“I really don’t want to draw too much attention to myself, Flora. You know how much I despise it.”

“You will draw it regardless of what you are wearing, my darling Princess. Sadly you are new, and everyone wants to see the novelty.”

“I know…”

“So let's make them look and drop their jaws when they do.” Flora’s eyes brightened at her own words, a fire burning in them.

“I wish I had your confidence.” Eva sighed looking down at her hands.

“Oh no no no—” Flora left the dress on top of the bed, walking next to her Princess and holding her face in her hands and squeezing her cheeks. “Do not give me that speech!”

“Whut Fwlora—“

“Not buts! Show them what the proud, brilliant and beautiful Princess of Gottesreich is capable of!”

///

“This was Flora’s doing, right?”

“You know there’s nothing one can do to stop her once she’s set on something.” Eva sighed, hearing Hans chuckle.

“Fierce woman.” Friederich replied, smirking.

“Indeed.”

“You will thank me later, your Highness.” Flora’s smug smirk made Friederich snicker.

Hans knew her sister’s handmaiden was a hurricane. Stubborn as a mule, also. But had the biggest heart and best intentions. He still remembers when Flora came to the palace to start as a maid, a twig of a girl but with a big smile and endless energy. Chatty, too.

She was perfect for quiet, reserved and shy Eva. He also remembers how Eva would hide behind curtains or a tree because she was not prepared for her new extroverted maid. Now, as they grew, they both turned to be exceptional women with an unbreakable bond. But Flora still pushed Eva to get out of her comfort zone quite often, much to the Princess’ dismay.

The dress did cause a statement.

Once she removed her cloak upon entering the Great Hall, rearranged now to be filled with long tables and so much food it made the royal siblings’ eyes widen, Eva’s shoulders were openly displayed, as well as her long neck and collarbones, the dress neck line following a V ending in the perfect spot to either not be a vulgar display of cleavage and being cheeky enough to intuit what was underneath. It fit perfectly to her body, Flora made sure of that when the royal tailor came to take her measurements. It really was a beautiful and warm dress, velvety to the touch and thick enough to compensate for the open area. It also had embroidered motifs of leaves and flowers decorating the neckline and long sleeves, and a beautifully crafted belt made by the best Gottesreichan artisans that accentuated her waistline. Flora named it the “Jaw Dropper”. Eva scoffed at the name, thinking of how silly it was, until she wore it one day at court and had to admit the nickname suited it just fine.

Like now.

Needless to say the Chief was shocked to see skin revealed, considering how covered and bound the Princess was earlier. A quick look to the Princess’ handmaiden, who stood behind her and not even making an effort to contain her pleased smirk, made the Chief know who was behind the sudden wardrobe change.

The Gottesreichan entourage were led to the main table, as etiquette dictated for being their guests of honour. Flora was being led to another table as they approached their seats, and the thought of having Flora alone and away filled Eva with dread. She wanted Flora with them, secure with her own people, and also to have someone to help make this moment more bearable; Flora always made everything better, especially boring banquets, and the handmaiden thoroughly enjoyed them, and well, sometimes making fun of some lords. That was refreshing, even more when she had to fake smiles and politeness when all Eva wanted to do is lie down on her bed with a book.

Disregarding everything she had been taught, surprising herself even for her own selfish actions, Eva sought Moblit. Father wasn’t there to punish her now, and hoped Hans and Friederich understood her.

“I’m terribly sorry to be a burden, Moblit, but I have a request to make if it is not much trouble.” the warrior in question raised his brows. Seeing how the Princess was fidgeting with her fingers and was trying to hide it, Moblit encouraged her with a smile.

“What can we do for you, Your Highness?”

“I’d like to have my handmaiden, Flora, seated with me. I know protocol dictates otherwise, but–” Eva really hoped it would be possible. She felt her brother’s stares on her and was making her even more nervous. “I’d really appreciate it, if possible.”

Moblit looked surprised, but nodded, still maintaining his smile.

“Do not worry, Your Highness, it’s not trouble at all.”

The way the Princess’ face illuminated itself with a smile shocked the man, and hurriedly went to fetch the handmaiden in question. Flora looked at Eva and then at her supposed spot on a table near the main one, but followed Moblit nonetheless. Eva was glad she decided to ask for her, because they seated Eva next to the Chief and wasn’t sure she would have survived if Flora had not been by her side.

The handmaiden was giddy, usually having to sit on the other tables and entertain herself with the other guests while the Princess dealt with Princes and Lords; Flora recalled those times the Princess would roll her eyes whenever they crossed their gazes and both women had to hide their smirks behind their drinks. Flora knew she wouldn't have had any trouble in making friends as usual, despite the lack of language between her and the Eldians. Eva often called her a social hurricane, besides a menace when Flora had ideas.

“This looks delicious, doesn’t it?” Flora looked at the table once they were seated and people started chatting, stopping herself just in time from whistling in amazement. “So much food! They certainly didn’t fall short on it.”

“It does.” Eva sat more rigidly than usual, the closeness with the Chief getting on her nerves. She tried not to raise her voice too much, but had to agree with Flora. “The vegetables look very fresh.”

Eldian servants poured wine to the goblets and left the decanter on the table, busy with the work they had ahead.

“Careful with it, it’s… strong.” Eva looked at her own goblet with dread. She did not want to repeat her performance from before.

“That’s because you cannot hold alcohol, Princess.”

“That’s not true.” Eva knew she sounded like a petulant child.

Flora was about to retort, but was stopped by the Chief getting everyone’s attention by standing up and grabbing his own goblet. The room became silent, everyone focusing their eyes on him. Moblit silently moved to stand behind the Gottesreichan guests, ready for when their Chief spoke up.

The Chief’s strong voice boomed, speaking so everyone in the room could clearly hear him. Eva was still impressed at how his voice reminded her of rumbling thunder on a summer’s storm, and how easily he filled any room with his presence. Eva knew many nobles and princes who wished they had such a commanding presence.

Moblit’s voice made her tear her eyes away from the man.

“People of Eldia, rejoice! For tonight we celebrate and welcome a new member of our tribe. Tonight marks the start of a new stage in our lives and history, the union of two cultures. Please, welcome Princess Eva into your hearts, as she is to become my wife in the upcoming months.”

The Eldians intently listened to their Chief, some nodding, some gasping with excited smiles, some crossing their arms in a display of concentration, some with skeptical frowns. The Princess dreaded the last ones, especially when the attention of the Eldians was shifted to her, their gazes and murmurs not helping the wreck of nerves inside her guts. She will have to be careful with those who weren’t compliant with such news. Eva was not stupid, she knew not everybody was going to be happy and excited to see her here, even less marrying their leader, to become his wife. Surely they all expected someone else, but certainly not her. It was not a secret that Gottesreich had enemies across the continent, and Eldia wasn’t exactly on good, perfect friendly terms with the Holy Kingdom. Eva only hoped her presence here would smooth sore bumps and begin more friendly exchanges between nations.

The Chief turned to her, gesturing to his left with his hand. His eyes didn’t leave hers as she took her cue to gracefully stand up and bow to those who were to become her new people, raising up more murmurs. Flora always told her how her stoic and impassive face amazed her, even though she knew the Princess was a mess inside every time she had to face public speeches and banquets, but remained calm on the outside, not giving away one single thought of hers.

Tonight she really hoped it was the case.

“I propose a toast.” The Chief raised his goblet as he kept talking, while Moblit kept translating. Everyone went to do the same, grabbing and raising their goblets up high. The Chief turned his palm up, offering it for the Princess to delicately pose her own on it, her heart beating wildly inside her chest as the Chief closed it in his grip. His hand was massive. “For this union, for my future wife, for the good of Eldia! May the Goddesses Maria, Rose and Sina bless our guests! Praise the Goddesses!”

“Praise the Goddesses!” The roar of the Eldians was deafening, and everyone cheered in unison as they heartily drank as was customary.

Eva swallowed down her grimace as the wine touched her tongue and went down her throat, scorching as it did earlier. The Chief squeezed her hand, and Eva realised it was slightly trembling. Her husband-to-be was looking at her, unreadable as before, as he let go of her hand and Eva tried to not yank it back to her side in a panic; for him to witness such weakness was embarrassing. Eva left the goblet on the table and sat down as the Chief did, careful of the dress skirt. This was going to be a long night. Moblit went back to his seat on the Eldian side of the table, but not without pausing to whisper “you did well, Princess” to Eva. That was comforting.

“See? Cannot hold it at all.” Eva’s earrings slapped her jaw from the force of her head turning to fix a stare at Flora. Eva ignored the sting.

“Oh, stop it! I told you it’s strong!”

“Do you want me to remind you of that time, at Prince Zeke’s birthday party, where you–”

“No! Shush! Don’t remind me!” Eva turned her head towards the front, raising it with as much dignity as she could and a slight blush dusting on her cheeks. Not that night, Eva swore she let out even her first meal as a mere babe. It had been horrible. Flora had to hold her hair while telling another maid to get her water and a calming tea to settle her stomach. She did not dare step out of her rooms for the entire morning.

“Hmm?”

“...Okay, you are right. I cannot hold it. Satisfied?”

“For now.”

“Don’t make me regret this.” Eva sighed as she took her napkin. It was a nice fabric, Eva was surprised.

“As if! You already have to thank me, the Chief hasn’t taken his eyes from you.”

Eva froze, venturing a quick look to her right to see how indeed the Chief was glancing her way while sipping on his drink. He seemed amused but also as if he had his mind thinking on something. Eva hastily returned her gaze to her plate.

“Told you it would work!” Flora’s smug shake of her head made Eva sigh.

She was right. It did work.

“Don’t worry Birdie, I’ve seen princesses and nobles shoving their bosoms to everyone’s faces with their dresses.” Friederich leaned in, catching his sister’s attention with a cheeky smile. “You are safe.”

“See? Even Friederich here agrees with me! You have to show off that beautiful neck of yours!”

“Take some mercy on my poor sister, Flo.”

“Hm,” Flora drank from her goblet, leaning back on her seat. “Only because you asked nicely.”

“You both,” Hans’ voice rose. The three of them looked over at the Crown Prince calmly cutting some meat from his plate. “Behave. And Eva,” Hans looked at Eva with gentle eyes. “You did good today, I’m proud of you.”

Hans' smile and praise warmed Eva, happy of today’s efforts being noticed. She achieved to keep making her brothers proud, and hoped her father would be too. A timid smile rose to her lips.

The banquet passed without much more trouble, but Flora kept talking and made the Princess be out of her silent shell. Eva didn’t know if to feel relieved or saddened for not being able to communicate with the Chief, as one would do in any banquet with your dinning partner, but Eva pointedly tried to avoid looking at him, although she once or twice looked to his side for guidance when some Eldian dishes were presented and she had no idea how one was supposed to eat that. The Chief was patient enough to show her when she looked lost, and Eva kind of wanted to groan in embarrassment and thump her head on the table at the thought of what must the Chief think of her, even unable to eat without guidance as if she was a child.

The desserts were delicious, though.

As the night continued, some Eldians began dancing in the center of the Great Hall to the lively tunes the band played on a corner. They cheered and laughed loudly, inviting others to join and spin around the improvised dance floor. Those who weren’t dancing yet, followed the rhythm of the music with the clapping of their hands and thumping of feet on the floor, singing along.

The air was cheery and happy, contagious even. Some warriors went to the center of the floor, like Mike with that female warrior from before. Even Moblit was dragged to it by an excited warrior with a wide smile and sparkling brown eyes. The Chief remained on his seat, enjoying the jolly atmosphere of his people having a good time. Levi kept refusing people coming to ask him for a dance.

Eva watched fascinated at the Eldian dances, so different from those back home. They were not afraid of bodies touching bodies, hands clasping and hugging, spinning, jumping… it was as if a joyful spell had been casted on them. Even Flora joined, and Eva was really not surprised at that, when an Eldian approached her. Flora was torn for a split second, not wanting to leave the Princess alone, but Eva nudged her, begging her handmaiden to have a good time on her behalf. So there she was, dancing and spinning and laughing as the Eldian man tried to follow her pace. Eva couldn’t help her smile, enjoying her friend having a good time.

As the night progressed, more people joined and changed partners as others took a break. Knowing how Friederich loved to dance when he was at foreign banquets, Eva did not try to feign surprise or shock when he took Flora to join him in a dance as she had come back to take a break too, this time shoving her to her brother’s arms, whispering “go go go!” for only her to hear. Eva considered this payback for the dress, raising a brow with an almost imperceptible smirk as Flora sent her a dirty, flustered look her way when Friederich twirled her around. Her smugness fell when the Chief’s voice rumbled beside her, Moblit translating for him as the poor warrior managed to take a seat again after his dance partner let him.

“You don’t dance, Your Highness?”

Oh dear. Oh no. He was asking for a dance?

"My deepest apologies, I wouldn't want to expose my lack of gracefulness in front of my Lord. I am not acquaintanced with the dance moves or songs, and I’m afraid also I only know Gottesreichan court dances.”

Hans watched intently at their interaction, curious as to what her sister was going to do to get out of that one. Normally he would come to her rescue, or Friederich or Flora, but from now on she had to be on her own. The Chief answered and Moblit translated.

“I can teach you.”

Hans saw Eva swallow. There was no way she was getting out of that one, poor thing.

“I–I really don’t want to cause any embarrassment on you–”

“I was told you were a good dancer, though. I’m sure you are a fast learner too, Your Highness.”

The Chief stood up, his form towering over her as he offered his hand. Eva quickly looked at Hans, as if he would try to save her at the last minute, but he pointedly looked another way. Traitor! Eva didn’t have any other option but to accept the invitation and spend the most distressing moment of her life, for now. She heard Levi scoff and shake his head, saying something loud enough for the Chief and Moblit to hear, making the big man huff amusedly and Moblit to sigh.

People were staring, and Eva saw Flora encourage her with excited nods and smiles, mouthing “Go!”, and then “Like the summer solstice dances!”, at her. Friederich fixed a stare at the Chief as he saw his hand settle on the Princess’ waist after guiding Eva’s hand on his shoulder, holding her free hand in his own. The Chief smiled at her, trying to reassure the Princess as he squeezed her hand, and Eva had two swallow down a noise as she noticed how his hand engulfed her own. Even her waist felt small in his grasp.

The Chief gently guided her through the first steps of the dance, swaying and hopping to get used to it, and Eva felt clumsy like a newborn colt trying to follow him. Her nerves were not helping at all, too focused on the feel of his hand on her waist and back, its warmth scorching even through the thick layers of the dress, or the way his chest pressed against her back when the Chief tested the waters when he made her twirl through a step of the dance. Eva maintained her eyes locked on the Chief’s, as one should do when dancing with a partner, and Eva was sure the Chief could clearly see her anguish in them at the thought of either stepping on his foot, or being a poor dance partner, but he only saw genuine amusement in them. Maybe she was not doing that bad.

The music picked up a faster rhythm again, the banquet attendants getting back to their conversations and dancing partners, although curiously keeping an eye on the spectacle of having the Chief dance with the Princess. Eva could feel her uneasiness slip away, her confidence swelling at the thought that her trembling hands hadn't given her anxiety away, and allowed herself to move more freely. It was as Flora said, a dance like the summer solstice dances from Gottesreich where you let joy and music guide you and your partner. Still, the Eldian way of dancing was more wild, less bound and constrained, and more light on the feet, loose.

Feeling how the Princess was less strained and rigid, the Chief increased the speed of his movements too, following the band’s rhythm. He was enticed by the way the skirt of the dress flowed, reminding him of a flower in full bloom moved by a slight breeze, and the way her cheeks were reddened by both the efforts and her own nervousness.

The Chief felt bold, wanting to see how much he could push and test the Princess’ limits for tonight, and encouraged by the clapping of the people and the increased tempo of the song pushing the dancers into a more frenzied section, nearing the end of the song, the Chief made the Princess spin before picking her up in the air. He could see how both his hands practically swallowed her waist, fingers almost brushing against each other, and heard both the excited cheers and whistles from his people and the Princess’ startled gasp, frantically searching a place to find purchase for her hands, finally settling on his shoulders and tightening her grip for dear life, feeling his thick muscles underneath. She was light as a feather, and the thought greatly amused him. The Chief spun them around once, setting her back on her feet and continued to dance, Eva needing to ground herself to the fact that The Chief picked her up as if she weighed nothing, besides the boldness of the act itself. This was unthinkable back at court!

The Chief did it again and Eva wanted the earth to swallow her whole at the tiny, undignified squeak she let out as if she was a scared little mouse. Eva swore she saw him chuckle and the Princess pulled her lips in a tight line, fighting for her cheeks to not redden further.

The song was reaching its climax, the musicians wildly playing their instruments in an intense performance, and in a final spin and hop of the dance the Chief pulled the Princess close, ending the dance with their bodies pressed against each other and not taking their gazes away, staring intently into the other.

The Great Hall erupted with applauses and cheers, everyone taking a moment to step away from their partners, conversations and food to congratulate everyone in the room. Eva was panting, acutely aware of how her chest was squished and pressed against his own as he too tried to regain his breath, hands still clasped together and his other one on her small of the back. Her fabric felt flimsy and thin to her now, as if she was too exposed to his gaze, and Eva wanted to curse Flora for it; she did not need to look down to see how they were pressed upwards, Eva felt it.

Thankfully he stepped back, probably by the murderous glower of Friederich thrown his way, and released her as he respectfully bowed. Eva did the same, lifting her skirts and returning his courtesy. He then gestured to their seats, and Eva was never more grateful or in agreement with the Chief as she was now. She urgently needed to take a seat and process everything. Flora and Friederich did the same, the handmaiden excitedly sitting down and intently looking at the Princess, ready to open her mouth. The Chief speaking stopped her.

“I knew you were a fast learner, Your Highness. It was a beautifully performed dance.” Moblit translated, and both women saw the Chief nod at them both with a pleased smile before drinking from his goblet.

“Thank you for the dance, my Lord, I’m honoured.”

“Although, I never thought a mouse could make such adorable noises.”

Eva wanted to scream.

///

Eva still had the memory of the Chief’s hand on her body, like a scorching imprint deep in her mind. Eva swore her skin still tingled from the contact, even if she was in her nightgown and staring at the unfamiliar ceiling. Her fingers were nervously braiding and unbraiding her hair, going over today’s events and banquet.

Flora was already out like a light, her deep breaths signaling how deep into her slumber she was, and Eva could not blame her. Flora truly tired herself dancing, and Eva did not have the heart to tell her to behave, that was Eva’s job. A perfect pretty puppet. Flora did not represent the virtuousness and regalness of the Holy Kingdom, and Eva preferred it that way; Flora was a free spirit, and Eva would rather have her fly like a free bird than have her caged as herself in her duties.

This was to become Eva’s new life here, living amongst demons. Different place, same cage.

The Princess was not looking forward to the walk around the village that the Chief proposed for tomorrow morning, much preferring to stay in her rooms and scream into her pillow until her vocal chords were sore. She also wasn’t eager to go on the customary hunt the Eldians performed for their brides and grooms in the forest. Whenever Eva had to tag along the hunting trips back at any court, rolling her eyes internally at the nobles and princes showing themselves like peacocks, she was bored out of her mind. The Princess usually sat down at the picnic blanket spread out on the grass and under a tree’s shadow, drinking her cup of coffee with the other ladies and Flora. Eva always zoned out, answering with monosyllables and enough words for the other conversing partner to not feel ignored, as she gazed at the flowers or birds.

Sighing deeply, Eva let go of her hair and shifted to her side, facing the window.

At least the moon was the same.

[neriede]

He Looks Just Like You - One Shot - Destiny Trio Centric

Working title is from way back when this just started as a ficlet about Sora growing up with Ven’s face, but now it’s grown into this whole “how we got here” SoRiKai shebang. Told myself I wouldn’t post anything until it was completely finished, but we all tell lies from time to time. So, uh. Here’s the first couple chapters squished together.

-

It was supposed to be a momentous occasion. He was the typical figure of a soon-to-be father, pacing back and forth outside the infirmary, slumped over and still clearly unsure about fatherhood. The nurses assured him this was normal—some parents didn’t really step into the role of fatherhood until they actually had the baby in their arms.

“Once you hold him, that’s when it’ll feel real,” they told him.

He was nervous—what if that didn’t happen for him? He wanted very much to be a good husband, and with that came wanting to be a good father for their child, but a small voice in the back of his mind kept whispering awful things to him—

You’re not father material.

You have no idea what you’re doing.

He’ll hate you.

The nurses all told him that this was normal too, but that did nothing to quell his fears. He just wanted the day to be over already. A sense of apprehension—whether it was from dread or excitement, he didn’t know—washed over him as one of the nurses opened the door and said two words; just two words, but they were the two most affecting words he’d ever heard in his life.

“He’s here.”

The last time two simple words had gripped him so hard was the day his wife had said, “I do.”

But then he saw the image of his wife, bathed in the light of the setting sun and radiating a glow that her newly attained motherhood afforded her, cradling their son against her breast. He stood at her side, reverent.

“Can I hold him?” he whispered.

This was it, the moment of truth. His wife nodded, smiling softly, and leaned over to provide her husband easy access. She guided his hands to the right places, told him gently to relax when she noticed how nervousness stiffened his movements. He was small, tiny enough to cradle against just one of his arms, and with a rush of relief, it hit him—this was his son. A living, breathing being, made up of himself and the person he loved, a mix of their blood and sinew and love.

In that moment, there was nothing he felt more than the feeling of being a father. Balancing him against his chest with one arm, he touched a finger to one of the tiny hands, something indescribable flowing through him as it was barely enclosed by unbelievably small digits. For the first time, he saw his son’s eyes flutter slowly open.

Instantly, a cold sensation swept through his entire body.

“…his eyes are blue.”

The voice of his wife floated from her nest of pillows, exhausted, but clearly enthusiastic, “I know. They’re beautiful.”

A spark of panic flashed through him. Surely…this was a mistake?

“But we both have brown eyes.”

The nurse, patting a wet towel to his wife’s forehead, offered an explanation, “That happens sometimes. It’s a recessive trait—you two must have blue eyes somewhere in your family tree.”

“Oh,” he said simply, feeling a bit ashamed that he’d ever let suspicion into his heart.

‘Of course there’s an explanation’, he thought, ‘after all, she’s your wife.’

He wasn’t the smartest man, he admitted. He’d never really paid that much attention in school, and lord only knew how his wife still loved someone as poor and ordinary as himself. Right now though, that didn’t matter—all he cared about was his son.

After this moment of reflection, he added, “Well, you learn something new every day.”

He took all his feelings of hesitancy, every lingering notion of doubt in his mind, and squashed them. He tried to recapture the bliss of holding his newborn son, gave his best efforts to remember how he had felt just moments prior.

And, for the moment, it worked.

-

They named him Sora, for his eyes.

“Blue as the skies,” his wife had noted fondly.

The first few weeks had undoubtedly been interesting. Being a parent was nothing at all like he imagined—it was sleepless and exhausting, both physically and mentally. Income was tight, since there was just so much expense to taking care of a baby, and he was having to come home an hour early every night to help with things around the house. They certainly couldn’t afford a sitter.

After his momentary lapse at the hospital, he tried very hard to connect with his son. He was always worried he was doing something wrong, like holding the bottle at the wrong angle, or patting him too hard on the back.

“…I don’t think he likes me.”

“You don’t know that, dear.”

“He’s always spitting up on me, and he cries when I hold him.”

“He’s a baby. They all do that.”

“All babies cry when their fathers hold them?”

“Give him some time to get used to you. He’ll recognize you after a week, I promise.”

He had nothing to say to this. To be honest, he was jealous. He had sort of expected his wife to be good at this—she always did have that sort of motherly quality about her—but it seemed as if nothing ever fazed her. Their son would be crying and she’d somehow just know what he needed, would set him against her bosom and that would be enough, like fitting a two piece puzzle together, mother and son, so perfect and easy, and just where did that leave him?

And of course, as with everything, she was right about Sora. It wasn’t even a week before his son was gurgling at the mere sight of him. In fact, it was increasingly becoming clear that Sora was a very affectionate child.

When he was strong enough to hold his own head up, Sora’s father took to sitting him on his knee and gently bouncing him. By this time he had largely shied away from most of the caretaking duties, finding himself awkward at them, and instead left them to his wife. But sometimes she would need both her hands, and when he found himself alone with his son while she went off for a minute or so, he would—for lack of knowing what else to do—bounce him.

Sora would never fail to give him the most mirthful smile, look at him with the bluest and most honest of eyes, and when he did he felt as if his son, this child, could see right through him and his insecurities, and he would ask himself, why does this have to be so hard?

He looked harder and tried to find even the slightest sliver of himself in the brightness that was his son.

And kept looking.

-

Riku’s mom was the sort of person who believed every child needed a best friend—a best friend whose mom was also coincidentally your best friend. It was just so much easier to arrange playdates, and you definitely knew what sort of upbringing they came from. Who knew what those other children were up to, after all.

“Oh, he’s got lots of friends. He’s very popular, very charming my boy is,” she’d say to all the other parents on the island, her wrists nested in to her sleeves all prim and proper, the clear apple of her own eye, “But he and Sora are just inseparable! Just like his mother and I at that age.”

Wasn’t that just so nice?

Riku thought Sora was okay.

Riku was only three—most things were okay.

Sora was all smiles and he shared his snacks with him. For a two-year old, Riku liked him enough. He was beginning to think he liked him more than Sora’s dad did, anyway.

“A year’s a big difference at that age, but Sora’ll catch up in no time, I’m sure,” his mom nodded sagely, chin bobbing like a ship on a gentle wave, “Especially with my Riku. My boy’s very observant—he’ll look after him, for sure.”

She said this, ironically, as if she expected her words to just sail over Riku’s head, unnoticed. Riku blinked and said nothing, just stared at the raisins Sora had just gifted on to his lap with a giggle, grin all toothy. Why did adults do that, talk about you as if you weren’t there?

“Sora’s coming along just fine,” Sora’s mom sipped her tea quietly, and Riku thought she looked like a flower, all folded in on itself, the way she tucked her ankles and elbows and everything in.

“He’s very lively. Don’t know where he gets all that energy from, really,” she continued, chuckling good-naturedly.

“He takes after you, clearly,” Riku’s mother’s laugh was more generous, large enough to fill the whole room.

It made Sora’s father shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“He’s got, ah,” and here there was a pause that, unbeknownst to him, did not go unabsorbed by either of the children in the room, “your hair.”

If Riku had the words to express what he thought about this, he might’ve said that that sentence did not actually end where it had stopped—that the words that had been left unsaid spoke volumes more than those that had.

But Riku was only three, and so he settled for thinking that Sora’s dad was kind of Weird.

He felt a little tug on his sleeve.

Sora gave him that same wide smile and pointed enthusiastically at the raisins Riku had yet to formally accept. Silently, he picked one up and popped it in his mouth, which made Sora happy enough to start clapping mirthfully. Then he did what he always did after sharing his snacks, which was to grab Riku’s hand in his and start stuffing his face with the food he’d kept for himself.

Riku’s mom had been right about one thing—he did certainly have a lot of friends, if you counted people at preschool who you happened to share a room with for a significant part of the day as friends. Or the people on the junior swim team. Or the ones from piano lessons.

In fact, most of his life thus far had been an exercise in letting himself be shuffled around to the next location, to the next set of people, to the next bunch of things that adults wanted him to do. Surely there had to be more out of being three than being stuck in one place? Maybe four would hold better promises—he vaguely remembered his father saying something about taking him to the play island when he was bigger.

He would often see that island in the distance as they passed by it. All the older kids got to go and play on it, but he had yet to set foot on it, because Riku’s mom was scared of him going too deep in to the foliage and hurting himself. He was fascinated by it. He imagined all sorts of hidden things to explore, thought about running down the endless beaches without anyone to hold him back. He pictured himself climbing to the highest cliff and proclaiming to the world at large that it was his for the taking.

Something bubbled up inside him, an itch that welled up and filled what very little being he possessed, and he came to the conclusion that he wanted all these things and more—he wanted everything. The world beyond these four walls, the ability to go and say and do whatever, wherever he wanted, the sun and the salt of the sea in his grasp, all of it.

And, he reflected after a moment or two, maybe someone to share it with. If he was going to have everything, it made sense that good company be one of those things.

But who to share it with? He thought about all the other kids in preschool—sure they were all willing to play with him, but that didn’t count for much when you were all stuck together in the same place every day. They only shared their toys with him because the adults told them to. Then, with a lapful of raisins, he thought about the one person who had ever shared anything with him without any reservation or prompting.

Finally, he thought about all the decisions his parents had ever made for him.

He squeezed Sora’s hand and thought, No. This one is mine.

-

Kairi loved books. If asked to name her most favorite thing in the world, she would’ve whole-heartedly and without another thought said it was her grandma, but, well, books came as a pretty close second. Which was why it was always the best day ever whenever grandma took her to the castle’s public library.

“Tell me that story again,” she said, for what may literally have been the thousandth time.

And for the thousandth time, Kairi’s grandmother tirelessly obliged her, “Long ago, people lived in peace, bathed in the warmth of light. Everyone loved the light. Then, people began to fight over it. They wanted to keep it for themselves. And darkness was born in their hearts.”

“Because they loved the light too much…,” Kairi gripped the edges of her seat, anchoring herself as she swung her legs back and forth.

Her grandma nodded wisely, pausing to let the gears that were so obviously working in her little granddaughter’s head turn to their conclusion.

“…Is it bad to want things?” Kairi said quietly, legs slowing to a slight sway.

“Only if you want them to the point of selfishness.”

This was why Kairi loved her grandma so much—she let her ask all the Hard Questions.

“I love you a lot, and I’d be really sad if someone took you away. Maybe even enough to get really angry,” and then after a thought, she added, “Is that selfish?”

“You must never apologize for how you feel Kairi. All emotions exist for a reason. Love and obsession, anger and rage, sadness and despair—they are all sides of the same coin of darkness and light.”

“I don’t get it. Which ones are bad?”

The old woman shook her head, “Child, there will indeed come a time when I can no longer walk beside you. If you love me, you will let me go in peace. Let your sadness for me remind you of the good times we had—that’s how you’ll know they were real—but do not let it drive you to despair. And if you are angry, let that anger sharpen your sense of justice, but do not let it consume you like a fire. If you can do that, then you need never fear the darkness ever taking over your heart. Understand?”

It was a lot for a four-year-old to take in, but Kairi thought she understood it well enough. Most of it, anyway. Grandma had a way of saying things so that she understood them.

“I’m going to put this back and get a new one,” she said suddenly with much ceremony, pulling the book on the table towards her.

She ran out towards the shelves, hugging the book—which was about the size of her torso—close to her with the whole of both arms. She made her way over to the children’s section, and almost yelped as she turned the corner in to an alleyway of towering bookcases. She’d barely avoided running in to whoever it was that had been standing just far enough from the mouth of the alley to remain unseen, until she’d just about smashed in to him. She had stopped just in time, but not before startling the poor boy in to dropping all his books on the floor.

“I’m sorry!” she huffed out, hefting her tome higher up, “I didn’t see you there!”

He didn’t answer, but he did watch her very carefully as he slowly bent down to pick up his books, never once taking his eyes off her—or at least, the one eye it seemed. Most of his face was obscured behind a curtain of messy, gray-blue hair.

“My name’s Kairi! What’s yours?”

She felt like she had seen him before, just around in general as merely another part of the castle, like how the books were a part of the shelves. He certainly gave a similar sort of impression as that of the books, quiet, unassuming, a mystery on the verge of swallowing you up. When he denied her an answer yet again, she glanced at the title of the nearest cover in his arms.

“…Hafet? What’s that mean?”

She wasn’t sure she was pronouncing it correctly. If she wasn’t, the boy didn’t correct her, just looked down at the bundle in his arms, as if considering something. She was beginning to wonder if he was mute. Then, ever so slightly, he leaned forward and extended his arms out a bit, adjusting the angle of his hold. Kairi blinked and shifted The Little Princess against one arm. Did he mean for her to take it? She reached out and tentatively slid the volume out from the rest of its companions.

Realizing she couldn’t open it with just one free hand, she asked, “What’s it about?”

He gave the slightest roll of the head, gesturing at the bookshelf beside them. There was a decent sized gap two shelves above their heads, just about the right size for Hafet. Oh! Did he perhaps want her to help put his books away? She liked being helpful. Standing on the very tip-top of her toes, she reached up and balanced the bottom of the book against the edge of the shelf. She gave it a little shove and—before it could tip back down and fall out—jumped up and pushed it all the way in.

Instantly there was a slight whirring sound, and Kairi gasped as the bookcase swung backwards to reveal a dark corridor. A rush of foreboding came over her. The passageway tunneled off and bled into darkness, giving off the sense that it led somewhere small children had no business being. The boy ran straight in to it.

“Wait!”

She took off after him. She held her breathe as the sieve of darkness passed over her, slowed down when it faded back behind her and she was on the other side. It was still dark, but at least she could discern the general shape of things, of which there didn’t seem to be very many. She stopped to gain her bearings.

The library was a musty place, but in that quiet way that was comforting. The books softened the silence and steeped it in ancient history, bleeding out from some of the more yellowed tomes. From the outside the castle looked just as saturated in history, but grand and in no way quiet. It was the sort of building that seemed to literally be supported by an aura of legacy, long stairs and high spires that kept your neck craned ever upwards in awe.

This was something else entirely.

There was barely any floor. In fact, the majority of the room consisted of a hole with a very long drop that made Kairi extremely glad she had slowed down before stopping. A gondola lift with an unsettling lack of any teeter hung just at the edge of the ledge in front of her. There was history here too, she felt, something old and unnerving and not meant to be remembered.

Her spine backed up against a sudden chill, prickling all throughout her shoulders as if they’d touched something solid. She spun around and came face to waist of a man in a white long coat.

“I don’t believe you’re supposed to be back here.”

“I’m…,” she took a step back, clutching her book tighter, “Kairi.”

The man simply smiled, “My name is Xehanort.”

And that was when she heard the far-off click of the bookcase shutting somewhere behind him.

-

It was scary being alone with your thoughts when there were no memories to keep you company. Still, Kairi sat and let the white surge of vacant hollowness wash over her, again and again, trying to sift through and find any semblance of familiarity.

She came up empty every time.

Kairi felt the onset of tears welling in the corners of her eyes, and with the tiniest of suppressed sniffles she swiped the back of her hand across them. It only served to push around the sand stuck to her skin. The salt and water mixed into a brown smear that reminded her how awful everything was. She was damp and covered in dirt, the sand in her hair made her itch, she couldn’t seem to remember who any of these people were, and perhaps the most frightening thing of all, none of them seemed to remember who she was either.

“Are we sure she doesn’t belong to anybody on the island?”

“I checked the records, and there doesn’t appear to be anyone missing a child. Nobody can figure out who she belongs to.”

There were three of them, a spindly woman, a short man doing himself no favors with his constant hunching over, and a quiet man who hadn’t said much since she’d woken up in this room. He was dressed somewhat formally—all three of them were—but his clothes seemed to sit more comfortably upon him than the other two. His sleeves were rolled loosely up to his forearms, and his lack of a proper jacket or blazer left visible a smart, black vest that wrapped against his bulky frame. He was made up of gentle curves, all of them arching outward. He exuded the notion of solid but approachable firmness. Of the three of adults, Kairi was least wary of this one.

After a moment of watching the other two bicker from behind his desk, he said thoughtfully, “Do any of the teachers recognize her?”

“We haven’t asked around the schools. She didn’t seem quite old enough for schooling,” said the woman, in that almost, but not quite, condescending tone that people used when they wanted to mask their oversights as them actually being smart enough to think ahead.

The man, whom Kairi was beginning to think was In Charge in some way, shook his head softly, “Surely someone can identify her?”

The other gentleman replied, patience clearly thin, “Even the child doesn’t know who she is. She hasn’t been at all cooperative and won’t even say where she came from.”

“Kairi.”

All heads swiveled in her direction.

“My name is Kairi. And stop—” she was crying, she realized suddenly, voice growing louder with every hiccup, “Stop talking like I don’t belong anywhere!!”

There was an embarrassed cough, and all the adults were immediately busy with looking very guilty and sorry. Somehow she felt that only one of them really meant it.

The man behind the desk rose up and strode over to her, and without saying another word lifted her straight up off her chair. His arm for a seat, she clung to his shoulders with a sense of terror, not unlike the fear one might have felt upon discovering that a lion had scooped its head under your legs and was now letting you ride it. She wasn’t sure if she felt safe yet, but she did feel very, very protected.

“I know where you belong,” he said, and Kairi had only the courage to blink through her tears at him.

He didn’t even mention how she was getting dirt and sand and water all over his clothes.

“We’re going home.”

-

It was love at first sight.

That sort of thing was easier when you were children, when youth afforded you the courage and foolishness that made you capable of loving someone before you really knew them. It required a certain combination of recklessness, naivety, and just the right amount of luck. It was very hard for the universe to line up just the right people, at just the right time, in just the right place for such a small miracle.

Sora somehow managed to do it all the time. He fell in love with every person he met.

He instantly loved Kairi: the redness of her hair (soooo red!), the way she giggled after saying hello, her cute hands gripped around the hem of her skirt.

Riku, as with everything, was more reserved. It wasn’t, per say, love at first sight—but right away he knew that he would love her, if he wasn’t careful. Everybody was talking about her—the girl who came from the sea. She was living, breathing proof that there was more out there than just their tiny, little island; she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. There was something stirring against his rib cage, the beginnings of affection he knew would slowly grow until suddenly, before he could say anything about it, it filled him up completely.

He squeezed Sora’s hand as they introduced themselves. It had happened once before, after all.

Kairi liked both boys immediately. They were the first people she’d met that were around her age.

She liked Sora. Most everyone liked Sora on general principle, but there was something specific about him that she felt drawn to—the first time he held her hand something warm flooded her chest, a feeling like finally coming home.

“She feels like magic, Riku!” Sora chirped.

Apparently he could sense it too.

It was Riku who suggested taking her to the play islands. Standing ankle-deep in salt water, backdropped by the sun-stained horizon, their eyes locked and she saw a suppressed hunger there—this was someone who knew what it felt like to be trapped. A whole town he could’ve shown her, and instead he’d given her a glimpse of the world outside. There was a reason he had chosen—yes, chosen, deliberately—to share this with her. Sora may have felt like home, but Riku felt like something familiar, wanderlust in both their veins.  

Sora splashed happily not too far from them, every little stomp, stomp, stomp its own circle of tidal waves, “Did you really come from the sea like everyone says?”

Kairi looked out toward the waves as longing filled her lungs, “I wish I knew.”

-

Destiny Islands was not a particularly…suspicious community. It was, however, a tight, homogenous little group, and when children appeared from seemingly nowhere, people tended to talk. They called her the fire-headed girl, and after a month or so when the freckles started dusting her shoulders they called her sun-spot as well. She didn’t look like any of the other children, and the sun did things to her pale skin that only served to cement the fact that she definitely was not from around here.

“She can’t have actually come from the sea, not really,” because how much sense did that make, people coming from the sea?

And yet, no one was rushing forward to provide any possible alternatives, because the only alternative to here was the encircling water out there. She gave a couple of the warier parents more than a few moments’ pause, but if there was one thing that everyone in their close-knit society agreed upon it was that the mayor commanded only the utmost respect—skepticisms and wagers surrounding the nature of her arrival were fair game, but any doubts cast upon her actual person were quickly met with the stern steel of the mayor’s gaze. He was the sort of person who led by example, who people naturally felt compelled to follow by example, and that extended to the gentleness and affection he showered upon his new-found fostered daughter.

Most people had been very kind, not the least of all two boys in particular.

“Hey Riku,” she started one afternoon as she was braiding threaded cowry shells in to Sora’s hair, “What did your mom mean when she said you guys better watch out when I get older, or I’ll break your hearts?”

“It means she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Kairi frowned, “She doesn’t hate me, does she?”

Sora twisted suddenly, errant string and shells slipping from Kairi’s fingers to bob back and forth as he shook his head furiously, “Noooo! Everyone loves you, Kairi!!”

She giggled, “I know,” and it was true—she really did know, actually believed she was loved.

Sora and her father (and Riku too, in his own subdued way) said as much to her every day, and as far as she was concerned that was as close to “everyone” that really mattered.

He shrugged, “Grownups say weird things sometimes.”

“Everyone on the island’s been so nice to me,” digging her fingers in to the eternal mess of Sora’s hair and pulling gently, prompting him to come back, “I like it here.”

Riku circled the two of them, picking up stray shells that had flown off in Sora’s enthusiasm, “But you still wish you could go back.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Hmmm…” her voice was a sweet hum, genuinely contemplative, “I do want to know where I came from.”

It wasn’t a yes or no.

A breeze pushed the warmth of the beach around them, cotton-soft and reassuring. It almost made her feel like the island was alive, and this was its version of a hug. She could feel it breeding complacency in her bones, which in turn roused a stubborn restlessness in her that made her skin itch for the ocean. She funneled it instead in to re-plaiting Sora’s hair, a gift it seemed determined to refuse. Riku sat down next to her, pressed the shells in to the small of her hand before attending to the other side of Sora’s head, opposite of her.

They sat like that for a moment, untangling the damage that Sora had caused, before Riku said, “When you go, I’m going with you.”

Kairi silently nodded, and that was that—the simple pact of children, no fuss, no muss, and all trust.

It was another moment of quiet shell-braiding before they realized something was wrong. Like the first crack of breaking glass, the smallest of sniffles escaped from the boy between them. Riku and Kairi immediately curved their bodies around to face him, like two mirror images of each other, perfectly in sync.

“Sora…?” their voices blended together in near-identical pitch.

He pressed the heel of his palm to the corner of his eye and swiped, trying to squeeze his eyes shut against the onslaught of tears and failing spectacularly.

“I-I-” he hiccupped through held breaths, as if that might help stop the crying, “I’ll m-miss you guys.”

It was here that the harmony broke, Riku letting out an exasperated groan.

“Stupid,” he shook his head.

“Silly,” Kairi laughed, wrapping her arms around his middle, “You’re coming with us, of course.”

More sniffles. Smaller and smaller ones. Sora smeared his nose across the bridge of his arm, trying to keep his face from getting too messy or gross.

“O-oh,” came the realization, and Sora’s world softened again, “Good.”

He sat up straighter, patted the braids Riku and Kairi had given him, gingerly, but with much affection, and tried not to think about what it might be like to be separated from them.

He wouldn’t think about it again for another ten years.