#oro narratively forcing me to stop joking abt kinshi knight luci and just do it

[exclted]

˚ · . @teneguine asked:

"--Just a little further! I promise, you can open your eyes soon enough!"

Owain walks with awkward steps behind his cousin. He had been keeping a tight lid on her birthday gift all day now, dragging her here and there with his hands over her wrists--forcing her to avert her gaze. First it was to the stables, then back to his quarters (he forgot the key), then he wanted to stop for a quick snack and now: stables again. They've arrived, as is evidenced by the smell of horses permeating the air. Owain doesn't let it get to him though.

He walks Lucina around a corner, and finally stops to step to her side. "Alas!" hands return to him, allowing the Exalt free reign with hers, "The promised moment hath arriveth! You may set free your heroic gaze upon the world, but don't say I didn't warn you! The mystic powers that lie ahead are only to be seen by a warrior pure of heart!"

He's bullshitting, as usual. What he really means is that he hopes she'll like it.

"Fates cross and destiny clashes! From the reaches of the nether realms emerges your first and only sidekick," dismissing any notion that he fulfills that role, naturally, "say hello to Pitch-Black Scythe the Incredible!"

And with a flashy display of his hands, Owain reveals none other than a sacred kinshi. Its head stands level with the two of them, though as any bird of its breed would, it stretches its wings at easily double their height. White plumage is decorated with yellow accents: on the tips of its wings, in the spines of its tailfeathers, as a gradient on its crest. It greets the Ylisseans with an unamused coo, evidently miles more docile than Owain. How they even met is a mystery in and of itself, but how they get along is beyond even the depths of human knowledge.

"Using his fortuitous form and swift-striking grace, he becomes be a beacon unto all. Fighters of hope will draw near, scions of purgatory ready to take up arms. On his wings of glory shall ye charge into the fray, ready to banish evil in the name of Dark!"

The bird only brushes his feathers in response, though the sarcastic nature of this actions suggests less that he doesn't understand Owain and more that he does, seeing as how he already pays him no mind.

Moreover, Scythe seems interested in Lucina. He waddles a few steps forward, pressing and inquisitive beak to her chin.

"See how the mighty Scythe already binds himself to your soul! You two will be kindred spirits in no time!"

She knew better than to expect anything normal of Owain. There is never point A to point B with him, but rather point A to M (sometimes even Q) and a moment to touch on every letter in between.

So Lucina doesn't complain for a second as she is pulled along for the ride. His company is a gift enough -- every moment spent with him is priceless now after years of fearing that they may never have a chance to even age together, and a good handful more spent separated. She simply allows herself to enjoy his antics, to be apart of whatever world it is he has built today.

A normal person might grow suspicious about the contents of their gift, being lead to the stables as Lucina so clearly is now, but this is just another little Owain-ism. The location indicates little -- her cousin's creativity knowing not a single bound. To try and predict him is pointless.

Hands release her and they stop before a stall door. Lucina blinks between it and he that had brought her there, brow raised. This is where she would remind him that none of this was necessary, if not for the fact that, well, he never listened.

"I do so hope to be deemed worthy," she replies, a smile twitching at the corner of her lips.

In a display of extravagance that only her cousin could create in such an environment as this, the stall door is flung open. Lucina's gaze hesitates, lingering on him before glimpsing the surprise for herself.

Only when he says Scythe does she crack, mismatched eyes flitting past him and into the little room. They're greeted almost instantly by another pair, this one obsidian and unmistakably bird-like.

Familiarity plucks on strings of the Exalt's heart as the creature approaches. "Oh."

The bird pokes its beak at her, investigating its new owner as Lucina simply gawks. A hesitant hand comes to smooth the feathers at the crest of its head, eyes returning to Owain.

It's so moving that she can bite her tongue on pointing out that Pitch-Black isn't exactly a name befitting a bird the color of snow.

"I hadn't realized these creatures were... real..." The first and last one she had seen was in a reality that wasn't theirs, and yet. "Thank you, Owain. We will do our best to make you proud."