#eta 900🌹 something to protect

[rcsetorn]

@burmecias-protector​​ liked for something 🌹

   “Do you recall that day...  When you stayed to fight alongside me?”  The day when the fantasy began to crumble.  Before, the general believed she would never turn her blade against the hand that guided her path.  Though in that blind thinking, it took a thief to make her realize how wayward she had become.  And in turn, she even crossed paths with some of her own soldiers as they ran into the fray to prevent the “enemy’s” escape.  Her own turn causing conflict within them as well.

   Freya may in no sense stayed as support for her- merely as to aid Garnet.  Even so, the Burmecian stayed.  Stayed and fought till neither she, Beatrix, nor Steiner could go on.  That memory, while painful, also shed a light upon the dragon knight.  Beatrix had found support in standing in arms with the former enemy.

   “Thank you.”  There would forever be an apology ever etched into those gratuitous words.  However, lingering forever in remorse would never heal them.  “Should you ever find need of someone to stand by you again, never hesitate to call upon me, Lady Freya.”

[rcsetorn]

“Here.” She lays a mug in front of her, neither giving her a smile, but the glance does show a new softness toward the general. “It’s a honeyed mead known of my country. It is known as Doga’s Bliss. A pagan god known in my country.”

   The rose general uttered a word of thanks to the Burmecian.  Slowly their severed thread that bound them together was mending- or so she thought.  Hostility had diminished, though going so far as to call themselves friends was still a strained thought.  It couldn’t be blamed, for words could not easily forgive actions.

   Mead met pink lips, flavor washing across her palette in good taste.  Honeyed indeed, for the sweetness was pleasant.  “Bliss is accurate indeed,”  spoken of a softness shown only to close allies.  Another sip before setting the drink back to the table.

   “Burmecians are rich with culture.  This,” Beatrix gestured to the mead, “ is but one taste of that history.”

   Though it came a whisper, the words found themselves ending with another drink.  “May your heritage be eternal.”

[rcsetorn]

nettled from here by @xkuja

[🌹]   There were occasional thoughts where she’d muse whether the dungeons would be more tolerable than her rested spot upon fine upholstery.  Times likes this when Kuja presented not-so-innocent curiosity.

   She felt sorry Lady Hiilda was subjugated to such company.

   “If you recall, there was a time of peace before you first sauntered into the castle, arms flaunted widely.  And I shall admit,” she glanced to her beloved Save the Queen which rested far closer to the sorcerer than desired, “I was far too eager to join the fray.”

   “War has ended, though as General, I must always be prepared.”

[rcsetorn]

@burmecias-protector

[🌹]   This was irritating, and the general caught herself pacing the balcony overlooking the castle great hall.  She shouldn’t be anxious about this, but there was no other way to be rid of this demon-- and even so, she would always be haunted.  Beatrix calmed her breathing, maintaining the anxious feeling of what would come.

   Beatrix could hear to taps of footsteps.  Burmecian clawed toes causing the echo to only further draw attention from her inner anxiety.  She bit her jaw, one move to regain complete composure before casting her gaze down to the dragon knight below.

   “Lady Freya,” the general greeted with pleasantry.  “Welcome back to Alexandria.”

   Releasing her grip from the railing, the Rose of May departed from her place to properly welcome the castle guest.  Even if strained.  And though her voiced revealed little sign of distress, the general found herself speaking as she descended the stairway.  “Forgive me, for Her Majesty knows not of your arrival.  Your presence was requested by myself.”

[rcsetorn]

@xkuja

[🌹]   Blood was staining the general’s white uniform.  Places torn and singed, leaving a ruined state.  With the shrapnel protruding from Beatrix’s battered body, and the already large amount of blood loss, it was impossible for her own white magic to tend to such injuries.  Not to mention the sanguine tainted breathes remained labored.

   Unattended, and the Rose of May will finally wilt.  She needed to get back to the Mist Continent somehow, but was it even possible for such stalwart flora to survive in the desert?  When lingering on the through of death?

   If so, Beatrix would find out soon.

   She stared down into what could be a sand-filled grave.  Truthfully, each pit yielded danger.  Either suffocation beneath the yellow grains.  Caught between an antion’s boulder-crushing jaws.  Or the real serpent of this desert.

   Another sharp pain tore through her body.

                                                              There’s no other choice.

   Knees began to buckle.  Consciousness ebbing into darkness.  Kiera Desert sun the last vision’s light, and Alexandria’s rose collapsed into her unknown descent for what awaited beneath the shifting sands.

[rcsetorn]

@ofgil from here

[🌹]  She wasn’t at the bar on business.  In fact, she had no plans to interfere or mingle.  This was just a night to relax and feel the tinge of consolidation within her glass.  What should have just been a simple question, with an equally simple response took another route.  And at her neighbor’s stammering, Beatrix sat the drink down.

   Words were carefully considered.  Obviously that scar’s story held some form of pain.  Discomfort.  “Forgive me if I intruded upon a memory best forgotten.”  Painted nails tapped at the worn down counter.  “Each scar has a story, and as such a reminder of a wound, there was always something-- or someone to inflict that pain.”

   Without a word, Beatrix removed some gil from a hidden pocket, and set it on the counter to buy him another ale.

   “Doesn’t.  Not didn’t,” she addressed.  However, the general wouldn’t pry.  “If you did wish to divulge into the matter, I am not exclusive to castle affairs.”