#this gets a little melancholic so be forewarned

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

5 Songs Tag!

I was tagged by the lovelies @b-lizi and @illumiera (thank you so much both!💖) to share five songs fitting for The Priest and the Dragoness, my WIP. So, here we go:

Fire Meet Gasoline by Sia. It's a song I caught randomly as I was listening to the radio, and I immediately related it to my Jia and her Miraak. There's this particular line that has only five words in it, but oh boy, my scheming mind goes feral when I listen to it: "flame you came from me"...👀

My Songs Know What you Did in the Dark (Light Em Up) by Fall Out Boy. I imagine this song being sung both by Miraak and Jia to their respective enemies, warning them that they know what they did in the dark, and urging themselves to light those enemies up.

Blossoms by The Amazing Devil. I mean look at these lyrics...: "and I stare at the soldiers before me, all my blossoms that have waited to fall" and "my dress is on fire and I hurl myself, I heal myself I drag myself like a rug in the rain / and my saint, she is dancing, and every step I choose to take begins to set the world aflame" and "and the soldiers march behind me I can hear them beat their spears / and for the first time in all my life I know I'm more than what I fear"

The Wolven Storm - Priscilla's song in the Witcher 3. Every single line. Nothing more. Especially this one here: "the wish I whispered when it all began, did it forge a love you might never have found?"(A little side note: as my Miraak was originally named 'Fenrir', which was a giant destructive wolf in Norse mythology, and he's also given the nickname qostrun by Jia, which means 'Thunderstorm' in dovahzul, I believe the title of this song couldn't be more accurate!)

Here's Your Destiny by Sonya Belousova & Giona Ostinelli. This is not a song per se, it's a theme with choir, that is heard in the first season of the Witcher series. But every time I listen to it I imagine it playing behind the scene where Miraak brings baby Jia back to life. It starts softly and melancholically, all of a sudden it gets intense and forewarning, until it finally reaches its crescendo with the combination of violins and drums. Give it a check, it absolutely chills down the spine!

I will tag @miraakulous-cloud-district, @kiir-do-faal-rahhe, @prettytamagnii, and @blossom-adventures if they want to answer, of course! 💖

[eponymiad]

“Spar with me.”

Helen tilted her head to one side. Without breaking eye contact, she took a sip of her tea. The prevalence of sweet, brewed mint leaves were the one good thing to come out of the Mede empire. “I am Annux.” She blinked at him, then looked back down at her writing. * On a rare vacation with the other monarchs of the Little Peninsula, Eugenides learns that Eddis once let him win at sparring matches when they were children.

[word count: 3750]

(for @thecrenellations​, who is as emotional about two (2) loving disaster cousins as me)

*

At the Eddisian hunting lodge on the coastal side of the pass, the air remained cool in the summer. Making the most of it, the kings and queens of the Little Peninsula took their breakfast outside each day during their short retreat. The stone terrace looked across the meadow, purple and yellow wildflowers in full bloom. On the meadow’s far side, the forest sloped up into the mountaintops beyond.

One morning, the king of Sounis arrived late to breakfast, freshly bathed. He dropped onto the bench beside his wife with a grunt. Every inch of him radiated exhaustion. The summer break did not mean a break in training, even for the sovereigns.

“Are we sure ,” he said. “Procivitus is not actually a fiend from Hell, sent here by the gods with the express intention of torturing me?” He cringed at his own words. Sophos tried not to accidentally question the gods these days.

Attolis and Eddis laughed.

“You may be right about the fiend part, but certainly we all suffer,” Eugenides said, shaking the left sleeve of his overcoat down to expose the deep purple bruise near his elbow.

With a heavy sigh, Sounis added nuts to the bowl of oatmeal an attendant placed in front of him. Then he set the dish down, stared at the table, and considered laying his head down instead.

“Sometimes I think the nicest thing about living in Sounis is not having to train with him,” Eddis said, rolling up the sleeve of her husband’s tunic to check the bright red marks while he tucked into his oatmeal with the other arm.

Attolia looked between the couple. “Do you train together when you are not in Eddis?”

Sounis snorted. “Gods no. Helen won’t practice with me. It’s just as well — I’d be nursing bruises for weeks.” He paused for a moment to rub his hand gingerly down his side. “Not that I won’t be now.”

“Oh, stop. You would be fine,” Eddis said.

Sophos looked at his wife, amused. “Are you trying to make me feel better? Because I am not embarrassed. You are all terrifying.” It was no secret that the Eddisians, who trained with swords from a young age, were the fiercest soldiers on the Peninsula — and perhaps the Continent. Their monarchs were no exception. Eddis, as ruling queen, had continued her sword training beyond the age when most Eddisian women stopped.

Eddis looked at him reproachfully, but he did not relent. “Helen, I’ve seen you train. It’s more intimidating than watching Aulus, and I’m still unsure whether he is entirely human either.”

At that, Eddis rolled her eyes, but Eugenides laughed.

“He is not wrong,” Gen said, leaning back in his chair, eyes closed. “There are few people she couldn't gut.”

Helen looked at him out of the corner of her eye and smirked. “Including you,” she said lightly.

Eugenides’s head snapped up. “Absolutely not.”

“Perhaps not.”

“There is no ‘perhaps.’ I can take you.”

“I believe you, cousin.” She put up her hands in deference, but the effect was ruined by her chuckling.

“You’re placating me.” He crossed his arms irritably.

“Eugenides, I believe you.”

He glared at her. “I’ve beat you before.”  

“When?”

“We sparred, when we were children. You were much older than—“

“—I still am.”

“You were much older,” he repeated, more firmly. “And I still won sometimes.”

Eddis considered him for a moment. And then, in the practiced voice of someone coddling a younger relative, she said, “Eugenides, you were ten . Of course I let you beat me sometimes.”

If Gen had been scandalized before, it was nothing compared to now. He looked at her in outrage. “You what ?”

“Surely you suspected?”

“I did not. I can’t believe you—” But whatever Eugenides believed died in his throat as he sputtered, at a loss for words. Finally, he choked out, “And so you think you could still win? Just because you could beat me when I was small?”

“Gen. I have eleven years of training on you.”

It was true.

Face dark with mistrust, Attolis turned away from Eddis. “We shall see about that,” he muttered under his breath, spearing a piece of apricot on his fork with excessive force.

Eddis rolled her eyes and sighed.

*

“Was Gen actually angry?” Sophos asked his wife when they were safely out of earshot. It was at times difficult, separating Eugenides’s intentionally melodramatic temper tantrums from the real ones.

“Oh, who knows. But if he is, I am sure he will get over it.” Her voice was gentle but firm, as though speaking it into the universe could make it so.

And perhaps it could, thought Sophos, not for the first time. The Eddisian cousins had an uncanny way of making the world bend to their will by the mere act of existing in it.

*

“Helen, do you have plans for the morning?” Eugenides asked.

The couples were gathered around the hearth. An evening storm had chased them inside after dinner. Conversation faded as they grew sleepier, lulled by the sounds of the crackling fire and rain pattering against the wooden lodge. Attolia hummed quietly in her chair, notes just clear enough to carry across the low rumble of the elements. Her husband, cross-legged on the floor, leaned back against her legs. She scratched his hair idly.

Across the dark red shag rug, Helen was tucked into her own husband’s side, his arm tight across her shoulders. She eyed Eugenides suspiciously from her couch. “Why do you ask?”

“Sophos and I were going to spar with our guards before breakfast. I thought you might like to join us.” Irene’s hand stilled in her husband’s hair. The sudden absence of music was louder than the humming had been. Helen felt Sophos’s shoulder tense behind her head.

“No, thank you. I do not think it would be appropriate. They are not used to women sparring with them.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure you aren't paired with any of the guard.”

“No, I’d rather not. Thank you, Gen.”

Bodies relaxed and humming resumed as Eugenides accepted defeat for the evening.

*

The next day, Eugenides practiced with Procivitus on the far side of the courtyard, in full view of his family.

“Is he trying to intimidate you?” Sounis asked Eddis when they had all finished eating. Attolis was still training.

With a shrug, Eddis said, “Sometimes you just have to let him tire himself out.”

“It sounds like you’re talking about a small child,” Sounis said.

Turning toward him in unison, the two queens raised three eyebrows at Sophos.

He nodded. “I see your point.”

*

“I could make you, you know.”

“Hmmm?” Eddis looked up from the letter she was writing to find her cousin surveying her from across the table, chin in his hand.

“Spar with me.”

Helen tilted her head to one side. Without breaking eye contact, she took a sip of her tea. The prevalence of sweet, brewed mint leaves were the one good thing to come out of the Mede empire.

“I am Annux.”

She blinked at him, then looked back down at her writing.

“This is,” he said, with a little more conviction. “An inter-state matter.”

“While I am sure the petulant whims of Attolis still fall under the treaty, I hardly think the king of Attolia wants to admit to his court that he has never beat the neighboring queen in a sword fight.” Eddis never raised her eyes to look at him, pen still scratching away across the parchment.

“Last I checked — and I did have final say — the treaty says nothing about conflicts being handled publicly. They would never find out — Not that you will beat me,” he added.

Eyes still trained on her letter, Helen took another careful sip of her tea. The rounded tops of her cheeks gave away her smile. “Oh, they would find out,” she said sweetly.

*

One evening, as Sounis read his book by the late summer sun, and the queens discussed a particularly sticky problem with one of Attolia’s courtiers, Eugenides slipped out of the house. He had a practice sword in his hand, with another tucked beneath his arm.

“Helen!” he called sweetly.

His cousin looked up at him. “Excuse me,” she said to Attolia, and stood to face Eugenides. She crossed her arms. She said nothing.

Irene sighed. “His ability to wear someone down is astounding,” she said, so quietly that only Sounis could hear.

“Oh, he will not. Not this time.” Sophos was confident.

They sat and watched their spouses locked in a staring contest. Sure enough, it was Eugenides who broke, dropping the swords to the ground with a rattle and a petulant huff.

Irene looked at Sophos. “How—?”

“You can almost always tell who will win,” Sounis said with a small smile. It was a rare moment he knew something Attolia didn’t. “The more reasonable Gen’s suggestion, the more likely my queen will win the standoff.” He glanced at Eugenides, who had splayed himself across the breakfast table, head hanging upside down as he stared across the meadow. “And the more outrageous the idea…well, my navy is still half the size it once was, and he is Attolis.”

Beside him, Attolia regarded her husband. She nodded slowly. “Indeed.”

*

The third morning Eugenides turned up to breakfast with practice swords, he said nothing.

It was the dread of imminent irritation that finally made Eddis crack. She rubbed at her temples. “Eugenides, if I do this, will you leave me alone?”

“Of course.”

“Forever?”

He smiled, victorious. “Anything for you, cousin.” His use of the familial term made it clear exactly what kind of fight it was to be.

Head hung in resignation, Helen relented. “Fine,” she said, abandoning her half-finished breakfast. Grabbing a sword roughly from under his arm, she stalked across the terrace, looking every bit the soldier she had once worked hard to pretend she was not. Like a self-satisfied cat, Gen strode leisurely behind her.

Irene turned toward Sophos in unspoken question.

“I did say almost always. I am not so sure of myself that I believe I can fathom Attolis’s every machination.”

Irene snorted delicately.

*

Eddis and Attolis readied themselves to spar.

“Are you sure you want Sounis here? I would not want to embarrass you in front of him.”

Eddis looked over at her husband and snorted loudly. “I think I will survive.” She pulled the wooden sword from under her arm by the edgeless blade, tossing it into the air in front of her to catch it by the hilt.

“Ah, so you’ve already accepted defeat?”

Eddis moved into starting position. “No, I am just not worried about losing.” She relaxed while she waited for him to pick up his own practice sword. “Nor am I worried about embarrassing you in front of Attolia. You manage that often enough on your own.”

*

“She is good,” Attolia said, sounding mildly surprised. The cousins had been sparring relentlessly for ten minutes. It was clear it was an even match, but Eddis moved with a practiced grace most lifelong soldiers did not possess.

“There is a reason I will not practice with her,” Sounis mumbled under his breath.

At that exact moment, the king of Attolia let out a loud swear as a wooden sword made contact with his ribcage.

Eugenides was panting quietly. He grunted in disgust. “I think I’m losing my mountain lungs.”

Helen rolled her eyes at him. “Can I please go back to my breakfast now?”

He shook his head, curls already sticking to his scalp. “One more, Helen. You owe me.”

“ Eugenides .” She sounded, more than ever, like a woman exasperated with a very small, very difficult child.

Helen glared. Gen smiled.

Helen lifted her sword into position.

*

Just a minute later, Attolis landed a blow on her shoulder. To everyone watching, it looked like a clear hit. But rather than celebrate, Eugenides was furious.

“You let me win again!”

“Gen,” Helen said weakly.

“No. Too embarrassing. Go again.”

Eddis was close to anger now, cheeks flushing. “ Fine .”

*

“That was quite a show,” Sophos said quietly when Helen dropped down onto the bench beside him. Her face was red, and sweat-damp curls stuck to her forehead. Enraged, she had fought Gen into a corner, knocked the sword from his hand, and whacked him hard enough that everyone who saw was certain Attolis would be nursing a bruise for days.

Leaning back with both of her elbows on the table, Helen turned toward her husband. His cheeks were red but his smile was sly.

“Sophos,” she said, her voice tinged with amusement. “Surely not.”

He shrugged, unabashed. She shook her head slowly. “You are very strange.”

“Yes,” he nodded seriously, still speaking quietly. His voice was low and throaty. “And I would very much like to take my wife upstairs and—“

“Sophos!” Gen called from where he sat on a tabletop across the courtyard. Irene had gone to check on him after the last blow — it would not have been the first time Eugenides stubbornly ignored broken ribs. He struggled between not wanting to be seen licking his wounds, and basking in his wife’s concern. As always, Irene’s attention won out. She stood over him, rubbing a thumb across his check, satisfied that he was not badly injured while he yelled to Sounis. “Do you want a go? I could use the morale boost.”

“No, thank you!” Sophos called in response. He turned back toward his wife expectantly. She bit back a grin.  

One hand on Sophos’s knee for support, Helen rose and headed toward the house.

“Where are you going?” Eugenides asked.

“I need a bath,” Helen said without turning back.

“Sophos, where are you going?” he called back after Sounis now, who was trailing behind Eddis. “You didn’t spar.”

Sophos paused and turned to look at Eugenides. He raised his eyebrows briefly.

Gen recoiled. Beside Eugenides, Irene tried and failed to conceal her laughter.

Waving a hand dismissively at his friend, Sophos turned back toward the house and followed his wife inside.

*

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?” Helen asked, sitting down beside Eugenides. It was late in the evening. Eugenides sat at the edge of the paved courtyard, ankles resting against the grassy downslope into the meadow. It was the first chance she’d had to talk to him alone all day.

He turned to look at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Gen,” she said gently. “The last time you were this hung up over something petty, you brought an entire farm to its knees.”

“It was not petty . Ornon deserved it. And look at him now. He makes a far better foreign ambassador than physical presence on the Peninsula. Without him, the Medes might already have attacked.”

“Yes, Eugenides. As always, you were right.”

He gave his cousin a rueful smile, then looked back out across the grass. He was silent for a long time.

“Do you miss it?” he asked. His eyes were now fixed on the forest in the distance.

“Being pestered by you until I’m nearing the point of attempted regicide? No, I can’t say I do.”

Eugenides turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised. She smiled.

“Yes,” she said truthfully. “Very badly.”

“Does Sophos know?”

“I think so. He asks, and — well, I don’t lie. Sounis is lovely. I like being near the sea. But it’s hard to deny, when we’re here...” She raised an arm and gestured at the mountains beyond  the trees.

It was her turn to look at him. He was staring into the distance again.

“Irene knows?”

“Oh, yes. She’s caught me sulking. And she’s had my guard admit to catching me sulking.” He shook his head. “Did you know that even from the highest point of the palace in Attolia, you can’t see the mountains?” He paused for a moment. This trip ended his longest ever streak in the lowlands. “When I was young, and used to sneak off to Attolia, it felt like an adventure. If I could not see Eddis, then none of you could find me either. But now…” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “Gods know I would not trade my life for anything, but sometimes...sometimes I feel as trapped as Hespira beneath the mountain.”

“Hespira wasn’t trapped,” Helen pointed out. “She chose to stay.”

They looked at each other yet again. Gen smiled softly. “So,” he agreed.

Helen laid her head on his shoulder. He rested his head on hers.

“Do you remember the last time we came here with everyone?” Gen asked. He had been ten-years-old, and Helen fifteen. It was a late fall hunting trip with all their parents and siblings. All three of her brothers had died a few months later, and her father not far behind the next year. She had been queen before the following fall. Eugenides’s mother had died the next winter. “You all went on some overnight hunt, but I refused to get on the pony, so my mother stayed behind. She took me up to the roof, and we spent the night dancing up there.” He lifted his head and dipped it back briefly to look at the tall, wooden lodge. The only people brave enough to square dance on the slanted roof were Thieves.

“That was just a few years after you broke your arms falling off that horse in Kathodicia, wasn’t it?” He still hated riding, but those first few years after the accident had been particularly difficult for him.

“Yes, but that wasn’t why I wouldn’t get on. Pylaster and Lias spent the week stuffing my boots with mud and sticks, and Janus hid snails in my oatmeal. The horse was just an excuse to get away from them.”

Helen smiled fondly. “My brothers, always on a mission to upset someone.”

“I got them back though. Did you know that if you rub coleus leaves on bedding for long enough, the next person to sleep on them will break out in a horrendous rash?”

Helen pulled her head back slowly, shocked. “Gen — you didn’t.” She remembered vividly the three days of the trip that her older brothers had been miserably itchy and cranky. It had not been a fun time for anyone on the trip.

“That trip was just a few months after Irene was queen. I thought she was very clever.” His smile was wicked. The news that 15-year-old Attolia had poisoned her bridegroom at her wedding dinner with powdered coleus root had spread through the Peninsula like wildfire.

Helen shook her head in disbelief. It was rare Eugenides could surprise her anymore. “We thought they had been foolish and touched a poisonous weed while we were out on the hunt. My father lectured them for weeks .”

Gen was unapologetic. “They deserved it.”

“Yes, I suppose they probably did.” Helen’s brothers, like so many of their cousins, had been notorious for picking on the younger boys. Usually, that had meant Eugenides. “You know, they made Sophos cry once, when he was very small.”  

Gen laughed. “It probably wasn’t that difficult. He is very kind and they were ruthless brats.”

“Yes,” Helen agreed. “It runs in the family.”

Gen nudged her in acknowledgement of the point scored. “I’m sorry I’ve been rotten company,” he said.

Helen snorted. “As have I. Did you truly believe I did not want to spar? When have I ever let a chance to beat you pass me by? I did not want our trip to dissolve into bickering. A lot of good it did us.” Helen left unspoken what they both knew — time together in Eddis was precious now.

They said nothing for a few minutes, watching the sky gradually change to orange.

“I hate leaving,” Gen admitted, breaking the silence.

They were due to part ways and return to the lowlands after breakfast the next morning. Neither knew the next time they might be back.

“Have I ever told you about the temple I found when I was small?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Temple?”

Helen told him the story of the temple hidden in the narrow valley beyond the hunting preserves, and about Moira, Perihys and Eugenides — “She called him Gen, you know” — and about how she learned she would be Eddis — the last Eddis. Gen stayed quiet, listening. “I forgot, until the morning my father who was Eddis died. I woke up and found this on my table.” She slipped her hand from the pocket of her tunic and held up a piece of wax the size of a button. Gen eyed it warily. Eddis slipped it back into her tunic.

“I remembered very little, even then. But the more I dream of the mountain, the more I remember of the temple. They fed me pigeon and told me I was a terrible shot.”

“You still are.”

She nudged him hard with her shoulder. “Perhaps. But I can still beat you in a spar.”

Gen laughed loudly, the sound echoing across the meadow before them.

“You still have the dreams?” he asked.

“Less,” she said. “Less since Sophos came back from Hanaktos. Less since we were married. Less since I began to spend more time in Sounis.”

“How generous of them."

She matched his earlier rueful smile. “Neither am I trapped below the mountain.”

Heads piled on one another once again, they watched blues turn to pinks and purples as the sunset slowly painted itself across the sky. They neither spoke nor moved, each thinking their own remarkably similar thoughts.

Footsteps rustling the grass behind them brought them from their trance.

“Supper is ready,” Attolia said quietly from above. Eugenides looked up at her, a smile lighting up his face. First lifting himself up on his knees, he stood, and then offered Helen his hand. When she was up, Eugenides released her hand and took his wife’s, walking toward the table where the attendants had already laid out the food.

Sophos, coming out of the house at that very moment, made his way toward her. Just the sight of him chased away some of the melancholy hanging over her.

Sophos bent to kiss her cheek. “Is everything all right?”

This, Eddis thought, made everything worth it, Sacred Mountain or not.  

Taking his hand, she nodded. “Yes, just very hungry. I worked up quite an appetite today.”

Sounis blushed. Arm in arm, they made their way to the table to join their friends.

Cross posted on AO3 here! 

[faelune-home]

FFXIV Write #19: Freebie day 3

(a/n: Another freebie day piece, which I’m glad to have gotten out since I didn’t have any ideas come to me for days 17 or 18. I technically got the start of this idea for another prompt beforehand, but I didn’t feel as fitting, so I put it to the side and sat on it until this freebie day came along.

Much like freebie day 2, this one isn’t inspired by a prompt, but instead about me thinking of game events to write about. And the recent Rising came to mind. Just a sweet moment with the Scions having their own remembrance of times past.

No spoilers mentioned in the fic, its mostly just Calamity stuff, altho a character from recent ShB patches is featured here as its own warning. I’d place this post-5.55, around the same time as the Rising event.

word count: 1209)

She brought the scent of Nymeia Lilies back to the Rising Stones with her, imbued into her clothes and spreading further with every twitch of her tail and her ears. And much as in Ul’dah, with the floral perfume no doubt still wafting in the streets as it had done when she had left, the mood turned melancholic, as memories filled the conversation that night.

Memories of loved ones lost, and horrors recalled, all from that dreaded time five years past.

“We were still at the Studium at the time,” Alisaie said, sharing a glance with her brother as similar looks of dark recollection crossed their expressions, “I remember the old observatory was absolutely brimming with people as everyone tried to follow what was happening that day. We were there watching when it happened.”

“The aftermath was harder to take, with limited communications after Dalamud’s fall. With no direct word from those on the frontlines, people were wont to make disparaging comments as they pleased about what had likely happened,” Alphinaud added, which only deepened his sister’s dark scowl.

“I’m not entirely surprised given Sharlayan’s standing when it comes to matters of conflict, and it was known at the time that Eorzea and the Empire were at war when Dalamud fell, perhaps even that one of the Legions had been the cause of the moon’s descent,” G’raha said, “Twas chaos besides on Val as many tried to gather what information we could on the events from our rather limited position. I myself ended up embroiled in some few debates as to how Bahamut came to be within the moon, given that the last known records of the dragon were from the Allagans, and the moon itself only shortly before their demise. Perhaps if we had known or connected the two, some forewarning could’ve been provided.”

“Given that no-one had known the truth of Bahamut’s prison even after all this time, it would’ve taken a miracle for one of your number to have learned it and shared it in time,” Alphianud stated, “We already had our fair share of miracles that day that the Dreadwyrm was able to be stopped in time before more harm could come to the land.”

“By some mysterious yet benevolent circumstance, aye, that he was,” G’raha hummed curiously. The chatter continued, moving past Sharlayan’s stubborn un-involvement, although not without a knowing look passing between the twins, unseen by the others.

“I recall returning to Ul’dah after the worst of it had passed, and while it wasn’t exactly a zen paradise, the people were more pacified than I was expecting in the wake of it all,” Thancred said, “I have all the respect for Her Grace for managing to quell the worst of it, and with only a scant few helpers at her side.”

Turning to Fhara, he then asked her, “And what of your home at the time? I take it they can’t have been that affected by the events, but they surely must’ve seen or heard of it.”

“We did, and didn’t. It was mostly a large shift in the atmosphere; heavy clouds that didn’t quite change for several weeks, and the local fauna was very tense, easily aggravated. Made hunting a bit too dangerous at times,” Fhara frowned, an uneasy knit to her brow as she remembered the anxiety that filled her home at the time, “No-one knew what to make of it all, and some were worried it was pointing to a storm on the way. We turned to prepping for that possibility for a time and making arrangements to stock up on food from traders to wait it out. Of course, that wasn’t quite what ended up happening…”

One of those traders eventually told us what happened; that a great dragon had appeared over Aldenard, raining fire and meteor showers down upon the land, only to then disappear without a trace.” Fhara shook her head, a tiny smile upon her lips but with no humour in her eyes to join it.

“At the time, it was hard to believe. No one really knew if it was real or not, it sounded almost impossible. I was the one taking care of the younger kids in the village in my free time, and they kept asking a lot of questions about ‘the big dragon in the sky’ that all the visiting merchants were talking about. Eventually, the elders told me to treat it like another story, just to calm them down. Even when we learned how true it was and how much happened that day...”

“It must be difficult to reconcile with such things, especially living so far away from where it all happened and having little contact with anyone there,” Y’shtola said with a sympathetic nod toward the other miqo’te, “Tis understandable then that your own could only deal with it through what information they had.” Fhara could only nod back, a wary twitch in her tail as the conversation moved on, the mood lifting yet never losing the sombre tinge it had started with.

The friendly talk continued into the late hours, other Scions joining the conversation in passing as they filtered through the Stones, until the numbers whittled down with many turning in to sleep for the night. Eventually, the only ones left in the room, darkened by night and lit only with a single candle at the table, was Fhara and the twins.

“We should get to bed now,” Fhara stated, stretching as she stood and wincing at a loud crack in her shoulder.

“Aye, Urianger will no doubt come to check on us ere long if we don’t.” Alphinaud turned to his sister, who had made no move even at his mention.

“Sister?” She stirred from her thoughts, eyes turning away from the flickering shadows on the walls to look between her brother and her friend.

“I would like to visit the Burning Wall tomorrow, if that’s alright. Together.” The other two blinked at her suggestion. Although Fhara’s ear flicked in recognition.

“We can do that,” she said with a smile. Alphinaud couldn’t help the confused frown.

“I understand where your sentiment has come from sister, although as for the location, I’m less sure of the significance.”

“It’s nothing to worry about, brother, I assure you. I’d just like to visit and have our own...moment of sorts. The sort of remembrance we can’t do in front of the others. Although I would also ask Urianger if he would like to come along,” Alisaie said. Despite not receiving a proper answer, her brother nodded, an agreement settled between them.

And as he left them for his own quarters, the two ladies held for a moment in the room.

“Just one more request please,” Alisaie asked, in an unusually quiet voice.

“If you happen to meet that bard again before we leave, mayhaps you could get more of that Nymeia Lily perfume for us? I just thought it’d be appreciated for the occasion.” Her request was welcomed with a smile and a gentle pat on her head.

“I’d be happy to.”

The candle was finally blown out and the pair set off for bed, marking the end to a long trip down memory lane, at least for that day.

[thedefinitionofbts]

Of Stardust and Spacetime (5)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 (Final)

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader | Kim Seokjin x Reader

Genre: Scifi, Angst, Fluff/Romance, Comedy

Words: 3.9K

Description:

On clear nights he looks up at the sky, and he can still see you. He can see the image of you transcending alternate universes tied together by iridescent ribbons, passing through the iron cores of distant stars, and sliding across Orion’s belt to meet him in that magical place between the stratums of space and time. And he can remember that you existed, and that you stood next to him, just like this.

 If we never dream, how will we ever see beyond what has already been seen?

“50 million year difference aside, I think I might know why he can see you.” Namjoon’s voice drags you out of your shock-induced state, making you realize you could not fully digest his unforeseen deduction. While you were prepared to accept the fact that your dreams and visions were real events, it had never even remotely occurred to you that the person you were seeing in them was actually someone far, far in your future, no scratch that, the future because by the time he comes into existence you would’ve been long gone from this universe.

You raise your head at a snail’s pace, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat. It was already difficult enough as it is to ponder over the fact that none of this made any sense, let alone come to some plausible conclusion as to how it was actually possible. “Why?” Was all you could manage to voice, but you had a hoard of questions swarming in your head, too many to even begin processing them one by one. Why would you be able to interact with him as if it were in the present? Is it actually real? And if it is, are you somehow travelling into the future? But the most important question that rushed out from somewhere hidden within you placed all the others in second, colliding against you like a cathartic wave of pent up confusion. “Why him?” You add, looking at Namjoon more intensely now. Of all the people that had existed and have yet to exist, why do you see him? And why does he see you?

“Because he’s listening for you.” Namjoon responds, smiling a little too mysteriously for your liking, but your thoughts are too chaotic to contemplate what he is insinuating. “He’s consciously searching for you, and thus able perceive that piece of your consciousness that was sent in the form of Star Mail. Of course…that still doesn’t explain the time difference…” Namjoon scratches his chin.

That also doesn’t explain why he would be searching for me in the first place, when I don’t even exist in his world…. You decide against voicing your thought out loud, thinking it’s probably best to just let the astronomer think in peace.    

Which he ends up doing for the next hour before finally coming to the decision that it would be beneficial for the study of metaphysics to conduct further “tests” in order to understand the mysterious phenomenon you are experiencing. That said, he doesn’t coerce you to do it or even try to sound persuasive. It would be completely against his philosophy to engage in experimentation without the subject’s unbiased consent, so he makes sure you’re fully aware that it is completely up to you and only aids in laying your options on the table.

“I cannot guarantee we will get any clear answers, and there are risks that come with exploring your own consciousness.” Namjoon inspects you to make sure your listening. You return a slight nod. “But the tests would simply involve you sitting in one of those Star Mail pods, and if my assumptions are correct, you should be able to retain more information if you are actively connecting with that fragment you sent two years ago.”

“What kind of risks?” You question cautiously.

“I’m not entirely sure, but I would predict that your symptoms of disorientation would grow stronger.” He frowns. “There is also the possibility that you lose your sense of self…of course, you should never let it get that far.”

You inhale sharply at his forewarning, feeling your hand begin to tremble. “Will I have to do anything besides sit in the pod?”

Namjoon smiles as his facial features soften. “All you have to do is concentrate on seeing him.”

You know exactly whom he is referring to, and the thought of actively going to see him makes your heart tingle and your mind forget about the previous word of caution the astronomer had mentioned. Truthfully, you had been hesitant about seeking answers, believing that some things were best left untouched, but your curiosity had always gotten the better of you. It was a vice and a virtue, but the idea of seeing him with full wakeful clarity and being able to remember details about the boy from your dreams is tempting enough to even put your unhindered curiosity into the shadows.

“Take some time to think about it.” Namjoon says. “If finding an answer for this is important to you, I’ll be glad to help, but make sure you’re doing it for the right reason.”

You aren’t entirely sure of what he means by “the right reason”, but you find yourself glancing at the clock and realizing it was time for you to go.

“Ok, umm I have to go, but I’ll definitely think about it!” You as you rush towards the door.

He chuckles at your sudden change in demeanor. “Take your time” He waves as he watches you exit the lab.

Namjoon’s advice echoes loudly in your mind as you stand alone in the elevator. Was he implying that you seem like type to not care enough about science to sacrifice yourself as a lab rat? But that wouldn’t make sense because it sounded more like a warning. God, you should’ve just asked, but you were in a hurry to meet up with Seokjin.

Whatever the case, you weren’t going to make the decision without having a discussion with him first anyways. It was something you did with all of the important choices in your life, and this was no exception. 

“So how was it?” Seokjin inquires as you approach him, slinging an arm around you causally as his other hand remains resting in his pocket. “Helpful?”

You don’t even know where to begin. There was so much you wanted to tell him, but you knew you couldn’t spew it out all in one go. You had to start somewhere simple.

“Yeah, but I might have to come back.” The words that leave your mouth on their own accord, surprise you. You had not been aware you were so eager to lean towards Namjoon’s offer of performing tests. Moments ago you had been keen on reminding yourself to take your time to consider this thoroughly, and now you’re all of a sudden this convinced you’re coming back for more answers?

“Oh, how come?” Seokjin’s puzzled reaction makes you realize you had yet to explain anything to him.

“My dreams, they are real events.” You begin. “And it has everything to do with the Star Mail packet I sent two years ago…” 

You spend the entire car ride back explaining what you currently know and what Namjoon had proposed. You even tell him all the details about your dreams that you can still articulate, describing to the person you see in them for the first time. Including the thing about time passing differently for the both of you, the fact that he can sense your presence because he’s looking for you (for reasons you don’t know), and ending with his actual existence being the 50 million years in the future. Seokjin had kept his eyes on the road the whole time, but you could tell by his occasional flabbergasted interjections that this was blowing his mind just as much as it had blown yours.

“Remember when I used to go hiking with you?” You query after your long speech.

Though you were utterly exhausted and still quite tangled in terms of how you felt about everything you had learned today, the mountainous landscape brings you back to a past you shared with the older male sitting next to you now.

“Back when I was an avid hiker?” Seokjin muses, not knowing where you are going with this topic.  

You still remember the way he would come knocking on your door in the early hours of dawn to put in an attempt to drag you out of bed. Saying that it was good to get some exercise in the morning and would make your whole day more productive. Despite the pleading tone of his voice, claiming that no one else would go with him, you never complied when you were younger, too lazy to get up or feel motivated to do something that required so much effort both mental and physical.

“Aren’t you still?” You eye him teasingly. 

“Of course! But you never wanted to come with me until like a year ago.”

You bite your bottom lip, chuckling as you recall how your attitude towards the activity changed so drastically because of one thing. “Yeah, the truth is, I actually only went with you for the purpose of finding out what part of Pandora I was dreaming about.” You admit. “I just couldn’t believe my imagination was active enough to construct an entirely new world or a person I’ve never met.”

There’s a short period of comfortable silence, one in which Seokjin only smiles faintly at your confession.

“You really want to get to the bottom of this, don’t you?” He voices consolingly, and you almost miss the melancholic tint that washes over his eyes.

“Yeah” You murmur barely audibly. “But maybe I shouldn’t…”

“If it’s important to you, I’m not going to stop you.” He sighs quietly. “I only ask that you be careful, and let me know if things start feeling off.” His supportive tone is something you had expected as well as his wariness of the unspecified dangers that experimenting on your own consciousness would pose, but there was something about the look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite put a finger on. Perhaps you were just overanalyzing.

You ultimately agree on going through with it until you feel uncomfortable proceeding or if any of the experiments begin taking a toll on your mental state.

Seokjin is persistent on reminding you to not push yourself beyond your limits, and you assure him that you won’t.

 …

  Everything is dark, until you spot a source of light that beckons you move forward. Your senses do not slowly return until the light grows brighter and the dark canvas is dissolving into pixilated specs. When you fully open your eyes you are facing a landscape that takes your breath away. A spectacular scene that does not end until the bleary horizon cuts off at that line where the celestial blue sky comes into contact with the land.

“Y/N?” The sound of his voice induces you to whip your head around, and that’s when you see him, doe-like eyes shimmering lustrously under the light of the sun. The sight of him standing before you has never been this clear, and although you had always known he was a beautiful boy, this immaculate view of him was beyond anything you could see while asleep.

His blatant astonishment makes you giggle. It makes you feel special, like you were a gift he wasn’t expecting to receive. “You said your name was Jungkook, right?” You voice, regarding him intently as he concentrates to hear your question.

“Y-Yeah, Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” Jungkook stutters, marginally thrown off by you showing up without him actually thinking about you for the first time. Well, he’s never not thinking about you, but this time he didn’t have to try so hard. He’s a bit startled and maybe a tad confused, but so fucking happy- so delighted that you have no idea how full his heart feels in that moment.

“No, I just wanted to make sure.” So it really wasn’t just a dream…his name is Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. You smile again, making a mental note and hoping you can retain all of this confirmed information. Namjoon will undoubtedly be waiting with an array of questions once you return.

“How did you…” Jungkook trails off, only now coming to his senses and realizing how bizarre this actually was since he’s been trying to figure how to find you for the past ten years without any luck other than the random times he was successful in summoning you.

“I’m trying to decipher what this is.” You explain, hinting at how you’re here when it’s obvious you don’t belong. An expression of understanding does not wash across his face, so you state it more explicitly. “How we’re able to be together like this, I mean.” 

Jungkook finally registers what you’re implying. “Ohh right, yeah, this…this is a bit w-weird. I mean, it’s always been weird, but like the good kind of weird-” He shuts himself up before his pre-pubescent social skills ruin everything. At fifteen, he was far from being good at articulating his thoughts. He had come out for a hike not expecting to interact with anyone, let alone you, but he has to admit, this was much better than that surprise box of donuts his brother had brought him this morning. And don’t get him wrong, he loved donuts, but he would easily trade a million donuts just to see you for how ever long your current visit was going to last.

The amplified rosiness of his cheeks only make you laugh. Was he always this endearing?

“What planet is this?” You ask, scanning the forest coated area. It was reminiscent of the Pandorian wilderness, but the tree species were definitely unlike anything you’ve seen or read about in textbooks.

“Earth?” It’s not that Jungkook didn’t know. It’s that he’s confused as to why you would ask such an unusual question. He had never actually considered the fact that you may be from a different planet. Holy shit. His heart is beginning to race as the prospect strikes him.

“Earth…” You repeat, vaguely recognizing the name he had referred to this place a couple of years prior. “So you’re Earthian?”

“Ummm, maybe?” He needs to stop ending all of his sentences as questions. “I’m human. Uhh, homo sapien…” He swallows uncomfortably; unsure if he should ask the next question, afraid the answer will literally make him pee his pants. “A-Are you an alien?” 

You laugh airily. “Is that what you call someone from a different planet? If so, I guess I am. I’m Pandorian, from a planet called Pandora, but I’m not really here so you don’t have to be concerned about an invasion or whatever.”

Jungkook’s not sure if he should let out a sigh of relief or if he should inhale because he’s stopped breathing some time ago. “Wait, so if you’re not here, how exactly are we… communicating?”

“That’s what I don’t know yet.” You admit, biting your bottom lip. 

“You seem a lot more knowledgeable now.” He comments all of a sudden. “You didn’t know all of this before.”

“Hmmm, you’re right. That is sort of strange…” You think it might have something to do with the fact that you’re not asleep and that you’re actually sitting in one of the Star Mail pods in Namjoon’s lab, concentrating on being here- on seeing him.

“It’s cool.” He’s looking at the ground, but you can tell from the upward curvature of his lips that he’s just being timid- too shy to directly display how he really feels about you coming to see him. You have a gut feeling that his sensing of your presence stronger today, much like your view of him is unobstructed. He knows where you are, body facing you unlike the previous times he would just be talking to the air more or less.  

You take a step closer to him, wishing more of you were here and not just part of your consciousness. “You don’t mind if I ask more questions do you?” You didn’t want him to think that you were solely here for experimental purposes, because that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Sure you felt the need to unravel this mystery for “the benefit of metaphysics” but in all honesty you simply wanted to learn more about him. You want to continue seeing him because no other place had ever felt so…perfect, and maybe, just maybe you could figure out why the universe is behaving so strangely for the two of you…

“No, of course not, but my life isn’t that interesting…. well, apart from this.” He gestures in your general direction, and you understand what he means.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” You watch as he walks over to sit on a large rock next to one of the thicker trees.

“It’s a bit fuzzy, but yeah. I was five, and I tried to run away from home.” He chortles at the thought. “It was for the dumbest reason too.”

You make your way over as well and situate yourself next to him. “Were you thinking of anything?”

“I…” He trails off, trying to recollect the exact feeling he had moments before you arrived. “I was scared, and I was so alone.” He drops his gaze to fiddle with a fallen leaf. “I think I wished for someone to be with me, but I wanted it to be someone I didn’t know. It sounds kind of stupid, but I think I was waiting for someone who would comfort me and understand me without prior knowledge of me.”

“And that turned out to be me?”

You watch his eyelids slowly lift as he gradually turns to face you. His expression is calm, but you can tell there’s so much running through his mind. He cautiously reaches out to touch you and unsurprisingly finds that there is nothing there. You can see his arm extend right through you, and your heart clenches tightly. You desperately wish you were here physically because in that moment you can tell he needed you to show him that he’s not alone, that you are real, and that you are right there with him.

There’s a stillness in the space between the two of you, a fuzzy cloud that you can’t make out. It grows in size as he continues to regard the you who is nothing but empty space to him, and it blurs the image of him until you can’t even make out his form or the area around you anymore.

“S-sorry…” He lowers his arm, gradually turning away once again as he senses your departure.

 …

 You find yourself back in the pod, senses totally numb. The disquietude that makes itself known at the forefront of your thoughts is not unfamiliar to you, as it is almost an exact replica of the feeling you wake up to, only now you have the ability to discern why it’s there.

“Did you see him?” Namjoon’s voice is the first stimulus that pulls your senses back in like a strong gust of wind.

You blink to adjust to your surroundings, nodding sluggishly then more vehemently. “Yes, his name is Jeon Jungkook, and he’s a boy from a planet called earth.” You stand up on your wobbly legs, using the pod as support.

“Earth…” He trails off, typing the name into his computing device to pull up any recorded information. “As expected, it’s the exact one we detected in the past, a planet in the Milky Way galaxy, part of another solar system with seven other planets…so it does contain intelligent life, or more accurately, will.”

Will… as in 50 million years into the future. You feel a bit dizzy as the room begins to spin and you hear a high-pitched ringing in your ears.

Then everything goes black.

“Y/N, Y/N!” Namjoon shakes you by the shoulders, as he knelt by your collapsed body on the ground. 

“What happened?” You murmur sluggishly, trying to figure out why you were on the floor.

“You fainted,” He says, helping you sit up. “You were out cold for two minutes, are ok?”

It takes an extra minute for you to understand what he was saying, mind still unable to focus on anything that was going on. There’s a dull throbbing near your temple, and your vision remains clouded until you blink a couple of times.  

“Y-Yeah, I-I’m fine.” You half lie, trying your best to show him it was nothing to be concerned over as you stood up swiftly, glad that your legs are betraying you. In reality, you felt a bit alarmed, fearing this was exactly the risky downside of messing with your own consciousness. But it was only two minutes. Surely it hasn’t become dangerous yet, right?  

Namjoon doesn’t look totally convinced, but you’re quick to reassure him one more time as you leave to meet up with Seokjin again.

You find said older male waiting for you by the front doors the moment you’re back downstairs. He’s not exactly oblivious of the fact that you look extra pale today, and the fact something’s off about your speech.

“Y/N, are feeling ok?” He questions as you both walk to his car.

“Y-yes.” It’s not the entire truth. “Why do you ask?”

He wrinkles his eyebrows. “You don’t look so good.”

You make an un-amused face. “Are you trying to rub in how much better looking you are than I am?” It’s supposed to be a joke, but the execution is dry and unlike your normal upbeat retorts. 

Seokjin smiles anyways, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Tired?” He murmurs, slinging an arm around you like always and rubbing your shoulder soothingly.

You feel guilty about lying to him like this, but you couldn’t just give up on everything now, not when you’ve just started. You’ve just been offered a glimpse of how far you can go with this. There’s no way you were stopping this early in the game.

Over the next few sessions, you resort to convincing yourself that you were fine, and blacking out for a couple of minutes is nothing to be worried about. You even went as far as to tell Namjoon you had a habit of fainting when exhausted or when you haven’t eaten. He of course doesn’t pry into your personal life or health status, but he always gives you that skeptical look. You’re just lucky he doesn’t say anything about it.

There’s a definitive amount of mindfulness that accompanies the pursuit of something you know you probably shouldn’t. You know this because you still felt bad about lying. If you lost the guilt of going against your morals, that’s when you know you’ve reached the point of no return. This thought only dawns on you when Seokjin starts to get apprehensive about bringing you to Namjoon’s lab, and you find yourself nearly immune to his caring words. The fact that he doesn’t even know about your fainting episodes, because you had been afraid to tell him, and still able to sense something is not right, should be a red flag.

“I’ll be fine” You reassure him, unbuckling your seat belt at he watches you from the driver’s seat.

“I know you’re doing this because you want answers, but health and safety come first.” He sighs, gripping the steering wheel tight enough to make his knuckles turn white. “Y/N, please don’t forget. I…I really care about you, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” You repeat your statement giving him a reassuring smile.

You didn’t intend for it to cast a layer of sadness over his irises, but it does, and it makes your chest constrict.

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